Saturday, December 25, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Bag Lady
I love handbags. Not as much as I love shoes, and definitely not NEARLY as much as I love hats, but I do love them. Pre-baby, I'd amassed a decent collection of fabulous bags. My favorite was a sleek red leather number (possibly faux, although I may have actually shelled out for the Real Thing on this one - this was during my pre-veggie days...although who am I kidding? I still buy leather, although it's definitely frowned upon by the veghead community - sorry, friends). It was small but not too small, chic enough for day or night, and just, well, fabulous. I came across it last weekend while cleaning out the hall closet during the Roo's nap - there it was, lying around in a pile of equally fabulous bags, all neglected and unloved.
Since I became a mother, I have become a new kind of bag lady - and not the fabulous kind. Every day I schlep around one of two Gap bags - black or tan - which have become increasingly filled with random crap as the months pass. A brief perusal of my bag today found three boxes of eye drops, three bottles of contact solution, deodorant, a full-size hairbrush, two tubs of sunblock, 87 zillion receipts and a bottle of acidophilus pills, in addition to the usual suspects - make-up bag, mints, comb, keys, phone, yaddayadda.
The reality that this is my purse is vaguely terrifying, because it makes it official - I am becoming my mother. For as long as I can remember, my mother's purse has contained a vast, seemingly endless amount of useless crap, and I would tease her mercilessly about it. "What is so hard about cleaning out your purse??" I would taunt.
Flash-forward a decade or so and now THAT IS MY BAG.
Perhaps one of these days I will take a few moments to shovel all the junk out and replace it with an amazing new bag like Erica found on Etsy. But until then, I will just suck it up and say sorry for the harrassment, mom.
Since I became a mother, I have become a new kind of bag lady - and not the fabulous kind. Every day I schlep around one of two Gap bags - black or tan - which have become increasingly filled with random crap as the months pass. A brief perusal of my bag today found three boxes of eye drops, three bottles of contact solution, deodorant, a full-size hairbrush, two tubs of sunblock, 87 zillion receipts and a bottle of acidophilus pills, in addition to the usual suspects - make-up bag, mints, comb, keys, phone, yaddayadda.
The reality that this is my purse is vaguely terrifying, because it makes it official - I am becoming my mother. For as long as I can remember, my mother's purse has contained a vast, seemingly endless amount of useless crap, and I would tease her mercilessly about it. "What is so hard about cleaning out your purse??" I would taunt.
Flash-forward a decade or so and now THAT IS MY BAG.
Perhaps one of these days I will take a few moments to shovel all the junk out and replace it with an amazing new bag like Erica found on Etsy. But until then, I will just suck it up and say sorry for the harrassment, mom.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Typhoid Mary, at your service
I always thought I was a decent sick person - the non-complaining, suck-it-up, take-it-like-a-woman no-really-I'm-fine type of sick person. But I've recently come to the conclusion that throughout our relationship, my husband's sweet-natured attentiveness during any of my little coughs and colds has spoiled me. These days, after I come home from work and tuck the Roo into bed, I curl onto the couch while he brings me soup and tea to assist in my battle against The Cold That Will Not Die (TCTWND, if you're into abbreviations). And I must say, it's lovely to be babyied when you're feeing crappy. So I sit there, sniffing and snarfing and asking for more, or just one more glass of water, or perhaps a footrub please, until I eventually pry myself off to perhaps scrub some bottles (thought lately he's been handling most of that too) and stumble to bed.
Evil cold aside, I feel like I've been drifting in a fog lately, as double eye infections have left me unable to wear my contact lens for the past five days (I stopped being contagious as soon as I started treating it last week, so fortunately I didn't pass it to the Roo). So I've been half-blind, and it feels disconcertingly like I'm existing in a dream state from which I cannot wake. Perhaps some glasses are in order, you say? I thought so too, but at my last optometrist visit they told me that I couldn't wear glasses - something about the perfect LASIK-induced vision in one eye and the totally shite vision in the other eye being incompatible for glasses, yadda yadda. So here I am - and I never realized how much I take my vision for granted until I couldn't see every minute detail on Carter's little face. Thankfully, tomorrow morning I have the green light to pop my lens back in and rejoin the human race.
Evil cold aside, I feel like I've been drifting in a fog lately, as double eye infections have left me unable to wear my contact lens for the past five days (I stopped being contagious as soon as I started treating it last week, so fortunately I didn't pass it to the Roo). So I've been half-blind, and it feels disconcertingly like I'm existing in a dream state from which I cannot wake. Perhaps some glasses are in order, you say? I thought so too, but at my last optometrist visit they told me that I couldn't wear glasses - something about the perfect LASIK-induced vision in one eye and the totally shite vision in the other eye being incompatible for glasses, yadda yadda. So here I am - and I never realized how much I take my vision for granted until I couldn't see every minute detail on Carter's little face. Thankfully, tomorrow morning I have the green light to pop my lens back in and rejoin the human race.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Whiny McWhinerstein
Gaaah! Aaack! Waaah!
...ahem...
I just thought I would preface what I knew would be a whiny, cranky post with appropriate sound effects. Consider yourself duly forewarned.
For the past nine days, the Roo has been sick with a cold. It's finally dissapating, leaving only a slight snot-trail in its wake, but in the span of the past week my husband and I have also managed to glean our own various afflictions. First he had a stuffy nose, sore throat, etc. but it vanished fairly rapidly, as he's of good solid Russian stock and his people have no time for such nonsense out on the tundra and whatnot.
Then I said heck, why should he have all the fun? and one-upped him with my very own snarf, clogged nose, fever, upset stomach, yadda yadda. THEN I awoke this morning - after passing out cold on the couch at 8:45 last night - with a STYE in my EYE. "Hot damn!" you're saying. "I sure would love to come play a round of checkers at Chez Draitser!" Well you can't, friends. This delicious brew of crap is mine, all mine!
I'm a little loopy today, if you couldn't tell. But I seem to finally be feeling a little better, save for the wonky eye (which, incidentally, means that I really shouldn't be wearing my contact in it, but you see, I can't DRIVE without my contact - or at least, cannot drive well enough to ensure that I do not hurt myself or others - and I do not own glasses, because I had LASIK in my left eye ten years ago and they couldn't do the right one, so I wear ONE contact lens. Thus, no contact = strange one-eye badness = no drivey for me). Fortunately it sounds grosser than it looks - mercifully, you can't actually see it - and Dr. Wikipedia says these little bastards go away on their own in a few days, so here's hoping.
In the meantime, GAAAH! Grumble. Blargh.
...ahem...
I just thought I would preface what I knew would be a whiny, cranky post with appropriate sound effects. Consider yourself duly forewarned.
For the past nine days, the Roo has been sick with a cold. It's finally dissapating, leaving only a slight snot-trail in its wake, but in the span of the past week my husband and I have also managed to glean our own various afflictions. First he had a stuffy nose, sore throat, etc. but it vanished fairly rapidly, as he's of good solid Russian stock and his people have no time for such nonsense out on the tundra and whatnot.
Then I said heck, why should he have all the fun? and one-upped him with my very own snarf, clogged nose, fever, upset stomach, yadda yadda. THEN I awoke this morning - after passing out cold on the couch at 8:45 last night - with a STYE in my EYE. "Hot damn!" you're saying. "I sure would love to come play a round of checkers at Chez Draitser!" Well you can't, friends. This delicious brew of crap is mine, all mine!
I'm a little loopy today, if you couldn't tell. But I seem to finally be feeling a little better, save for the wonky eye (which, incidentally, means that I really shouldn't be wearing my contact in it, but you see, I can't DRIVE without my contact - or at least, cannot drive well enough to ensure that I do not hurt myself or others - and I do not own glasses, because I had LASIK in my left eye ten years ago and they couldn't do the right one, so I wear ONE contact lens. Thus, no contact = strange one-eye badness = no drivey for me). Fortunately it sounds grosser than it looks - mercifully, you can't actually see it - and Dr. Wikipedia says these little bastards go away on their own in a few days, so here's hoping.
In the meantime, GAAAH! Grumble. Blargh.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Three Years Ago Today...
He just came wandering into my life and simply seemed to take his place. And just like that, he changed everything.
Three years ago, on this very day at this very time, I married the love of my life. And I would do it again a million times over.
Happy Anniversary, LOML.
Lately it seems that all my favorite mommy bloggers, like her and her, have the same age-old question on their minds - how do you balance it all? How can you give 100% to work, kids, husbands, and (concept!) YOURSELF without having a complete and utter nervous breakdown?
This question consumes my thoughts regularly, and since I wrote my stressed-out mommy plea about a month ago, I have managed to streamline our daily routine. First of all, we stopped using cloth diapers, so the poop-scraping nights are behind us. This was a tough decision for me, as I fancy myself a pseudo-eco-mommy and had been obsessed with cloth diapering since long before I even got pregnant (y'know, back when I had time on my hands to sit around researching BumGenius vs. Happy Heinies). But I had set a goal of a year of cloth diapers, and I made it. I'm proud of that, and prouder of the fact that I am no longer fist-deep in my son's crap on a nightly basis. I discovered Amazon Mom's amazing diaper discounts (7th Generation for .15 each, yo!) so I'm also pretty proud of the crazy deal I'm getting. Now if only I could banish the pesky bit of diaper rash that has plagued us since we started on disposables, we'd be golden.
I also started giving the Roo school food, and stopped obsessing about potential pesticides lurking in the daycare cuisine. I bring him some yogurt from home, and a little container of fruit every day - if the day's menu has some Dirty Dozen produce on it, I ask that they give him my fruit instead. And he's EATING. My kid is EATING! MY kid! ...at school, that is. Eating at home is a whole other cranky blog post in the works. SIGH.
I stopped pumping at night before I go to bed, so I'm down to three pumps a day - in the morning before I leave for work, and twice while I'm there. Dropping the nightly pump made an INCREDIBLE difference to both the quality of my evenings and my energy level. On Monday, November 1st (Arbitrary date? Yes! Crazy OCD mommy? Yes!!), I am dropping another pump, so I'll be down to TWO per day. I couldn't be more excited if it were Christmas morning and Santa had just pulled a pony out of his sack.
These small changes have made a world of difference in my quality of life, yet I still feel that I am running around like a headless chicken most days. People like to tell you how much having a child will change your life, and I thought I understood them. But the truth is, I had no idea how much motherhood would rock my world. I miss puttering in my apartment, rearranging closets, cleaning the kitchen, baking, seeing girlfriends, long, careless, non-exhaustion-filled dates with my husband (I have been known to yawn and slump over in the middle of date nights these days...). I miss primping in the mirror, curling my hair, applying make-up, doing face masks, taking baths, and all the other things that now I am simply too tired to do at night after the Roo has gone to sleep. I miss sleeping past 5:30 am (oh sweet little early bird, WHY must you rise before the sun??). I miss lazy Sunday mornings, lingering for hours over coffee and the newspaper. I miss having more than one glass of wine. I miss being selfish.
At work, I can no longer stay late, like I once did regularly. Hell, it's all I can do to make it in to the office by 9 - and usually I don't roll in til 9:30 (thankfully no one else does, either - god bless the entertainment industry!). Some days I go visit Carter at lunch instead of staying at my desk and working through like I once did. Then I leave early at 5:45 to make it to daycare before closing. While I'm in the office, I try to give 110% to make up for all the time away, but it's just not possible - there are bills to pay, appointments to schedule, blogs to read (ahem), celebrity gossip to catch up on (AHEM)...but I can cram it all in, right? Being a stellar employee AND dealing with the minutia that slips through the cracks each night at home? Frankly, work is the only moment I get a bit of a break - at home, it's a nonstop litany of tasks until I fall into bed at night and pass out cold.
My sweet husband is always encouraging me to take time for ME - go get your nails done, honey. Buy yourself a new dress, honey. Go to lunch with a friend, honey. And I should - I know I should. But it's just so difficult for me to justify any time spent away from the Roo on the weekend - I see so little of him during the week that I just want to completely smother him with affection and attention each weekend. But that's not good, and I know that. Too much work and not enough time for herself makes mommy a dull (and crazy) girl. So I hereby challenge myself to take time each week to recalibrate, for my own sanity and the sanity of my little family.
I'll end this with a long-beloved and newly poignant quote from our dear Dr. Seuss -
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
And remember that life’s a great balancing act.
Preach on, Theodor Geisel!
This question consumes my thoughts regularly, and since I wrote my stressed-out mommy plea about a month ago, I have managed to streamline our daily routine. First of all, we stopped using cloth diapers, so the poop-scraping nights are behind us. This was a tough decision for me, as I fancy myself a pseudo-eco-mommy and had been obsessed with cloth diapering since long before I even got pregnant (y'know, back when I had time on my hands to sit around researching BumGenius vs. Happy Heinies). But I had set a goal of a year of cloth diapers, and I made it. I'm proud of that, and prouder of the fact that I am no longer fist-deep in my son's crap on a nightly basis. I discovered Amazon Mom's amazing diaper discounts (7th Generation for .15 each, yo!) so I'm also pretty proud of the crazy deal I'm getting. Now if only I could banish the pesky bit of diaper rash that has plagued us since we started on disposables, we'd be golden.
I also started giving the Roo school food, and stopped obsessing about potential pesticides lurking in the daycare cuisine. I bring him some yogurt from home, and a little container of fruit every day - if the day's menu has some Dirty Dozen produce on it, I ask that they give him my fruit instead. And he's EATING. My kid is EATING! MY kid! ...at school, that is. Eating at home is a whole other cranky blog post in the works. SIGH.
I stopped pumping at night before I go to bed, so I'm down to three pumps a day - in the morning before I leave for work, and twice while I'm there. Dropping the nightly pump made an INCREDIBLE difference to both the quality of my evenings and my energy level. On Monday, November 1st (Arbitrary date? Yes! Crazy OCD mommy? Yes!!), I am dropping another pump, so I'll be down to TWO per day. I couldn't be more excited if it were Christmas morning and Santa had just pulled a pony out of his sack.
These small changes have made a world of difference in my quality of life, yet I still feel that I am running around like a headless chicken most days. People like to tell you how much having a child will change your life, and I thought I understood them. But the truth is, I had no idea how much motherhood would rock my world. I miss puttering in my apartment, rearranging closets, cleaning the kitchen, baking, seeing girlfriends, long, careless, non-exhaustion-filled dates with my husband (I have been known to yawn and slump over in the middle of date nights these days...). I miss primping in the mirror, curling my hair, applying make-up, doing face masks, taking baths, and all the other things that now I am simply too tired to do at night after the Roo has gone to sleep. I miss sleeping past 5:30 am (oh sweet little early bird, WHY must you rise before the sun??). I miss lazy Sunday mornings, lingering for hours over coffee and the newspaper. I miss having more than one glass of wine. I miss being selfish.
At work, I can no longer stay late, like I once did regularly. Hell, it's all I can do to make it in to the office by 9 - and usually I don't roll in til 9:30 (thankfully no one else does, either - god bless the entertainment industry!). Some days I go visit Carter at lunch instead of staying at my desk and working through like I once did. Then I leave early at 5:45 to make it to daycare before closing. While I'm in the office, I try to give 110% to make up for all the time away, but it's just not possible - there are bills to pay, appointments to schedule, blogs to read (ahem), celebrity gossip to catch up on (AHEM)...but I can cram it all in, right? Being a stellar employee AND dealing with the minutia that slips through the cracks each night at home? Frankly, work is the only moment I get a bit of a break - at home, it's a nonstop litany of tasks until I fall into bed at night and pass out cold.
My sweet husband is always encouraging me to take time for ME - go get your nails done, honey. Buy yourself a new dress, honey. Go to lunch with a friend, honey. And I should - I know I should. But it's just so difficult for me to justify any time spent away from the Roo on the weekend - I see so little of him during the week that I just want to completely smother him with affection and attention each weekend. But that's not good, and I know that. Too much work and not enough time for herself makes mommy a dull (and crazy) girl. So I hereby challenge myself to take time each week to recalibrate, for my own sanity and the sanity of my little family.
I'll end this with a long-beloved and newly poignant quote from our dear Dr. Seuss -
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
And remember that life’s a great balancing act.
Preach on, Theodor Geisel!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)