Author Archives: Crystal

Serenity (Felicity) Now

Now that my internet is working and I have a brand new computer which actually, you know, DOES STUFF, I feel like I am SUPERWOMAN, you guys. I can read blogs and catch up on the news and do really inane things like play games on Facebook. Which hasn’t happened in, like, forever. Also, and I am sort of ashamed of this, but I am watching reruns of “Felicity” on Netflix. Because reruns of “Felicity” make me calm. Because I don’t really care what happens because I’ve seen them all. And while sometimes I feel like Felicity should have been punched more, she generally is just so boring it makes all the diapers and teething seem a little bit less like work. And I used to have a huge crush on Scott Foley. Not Speedman. Because he was the obvious one to have a crush on.

Why are we talking about “Felicity”? Because, internet, I need to be calm. I need five minutes to think about nothing and revel in how boring she is.  Because in real life, I have to get my HERRRR DID for the wedding. And meet with a pastor about Baby L’s baptism. And get a pedicure. And find some shoes for the wedding. And find something borrowed. And decide whether we are having a dinner after the baptism or a small dinner reception. Or both. And where these things will take place. And OH. MY. GOD. I just need someone to do all of this for me. Because even though I finally have the internet back. And my car is fixed and sitting in the driveway. I feel like there is so much to do. And all “Felicity” has to do is obsess about boys and deal with that bitch Elana.

Like a Boss

Who's the Boss?

Who’s the Boss? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Being a stay-at-home mom is really never anything I wanted to be. Mainly because the idea of having kids sort of scared/repulsed/annoyed the bejesus out of me in and of itself. And then, you know, there’s the whole cleaning up after everyone, feeding someone all the time, changing diapers…you know…that stuff… But you know, being a SAHM is sort of like having a job . And I love it. Like, more than any job I’ve ever had (it is up there with the Activities Director position I had at that nursing home where I got to play BINGO with Alzheimer’s patients for most of the day, but really, that wasn’t much different than having kids. And it was a BLAST.) But sometimes, internet, I just wish I had a JOB. It isn’t like I don’t currently have a boss. I have one. It’s just that she’s two feet tall. And she drools. You know, more than most bosses.

There are really a lot of things I miss about working. And some days, having no contact with anyone who can have a conversation can be a little overwhelming. And frustrating. But I mean, when you think about it, work has it’s share of ridiculousness that I don’t miss too.

At work, my boss could feed herself. I have to admit, this actually does shock me, considering what a fucking idiot she was. But she didn’t need me for that. Luckily.

At work, I didn’t have to change my boss’s diaper. I can’t really comment on whether or not she wore diapers. But if she did, I am sure they were all designer and stuff. Because she was fancy. (Read: really effing pretentious and horrible.)

At work, my boss didn’t cry when something didn’t go her way and didn’t need me to console her. However, she did not know how to use a fax machine.  And she did tend to call me from across the building to fax things for her on a regular basis. And the fax machine was literally FIVE STEPS from her office. So…there’s that.

At work, my sleep didn’t get interrupted because someone had gas. There are a few reasons for this. The obvious one is that I didn’t ever get to sleep at work. Because, obviously, they wouldn’t let me do that. And the other was because at work, other people’s gas was not my problem. Now, other peoples’s gas is most certainly my problem. And it causes crying.

Sometimes I think that in a few months, maybe I will get a part time job to just…get out of the house for a bit and talk to adults. But then I reconsider. Because adults are…well…not always all they are cracked up to be. And who wouldn’t want the opportunity to stay home with their spawn? Even if it IS a harder job than anything else I’ve done…

 

 

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The Haps…

Oh, internet, how I have missed you. Turns out, I needed a new modem. Which, of course, takes, like a bizzillion years to get. And then, you know, because I have all this money, I had to buy a new computer because mine was DONE with it all. And then my car wouldn’t start. So then I bought myself a new fuel pump too! Because I’m getting married and going on vacation in less than two weeks and don’t have ENOUGH to stress about.

So, there it is. That’s how I’ve been doing. How are YOU, internet?

It is looking like MB and I will not be having a reception when we return from Las Vegas. Not because we don’t want to celebrate with everyone, or anything, but because without the internet or a car during the day for a really long time, it is pretty difficult to scope out venues and find catering. And, even though my dad AND uncle are chefs and will be here for the festivities, I just don’t feel that making them cater would be very cool of me. You know, because they might want to celebrate too. And by celebrate, I mean drink a lot of beer. Since my dad is coming from out of the country, I really only have one weekend that I can have a party that he can attend. Which happens to be the weekend that Baby L will be baptized. I have to pile it all in there in two days and I just can’t figure out how to do it. So…it looks like we might just have to have a casual party later on down the road. One that won’t involve me pulling all of my hair out. And one, without my dad. Which sort of sucks.

I AM, getting super excited about the wedding. Well, not specifically the wedding, but the fun that we are about to have in Vegas. It has been SO long since I have been there…or had any kind of vacation, that I almost feel like something is going to happen and I won’t be able to go. Or someone is going to ruin it. (Which, if it were to happen, would be MB’s idiot brother who is coming to Vegas and, unfortunately staying in our timeshare with my family…Fuuuuuuuck.) But, I have already alerted everyone who will be there, that if he gets all stupid on me, I will a) kick him out of the condo and/or b) chop certain parts of his anatomy off and shove them into his face holes. The end.

I’m about to be a mom AND a wife. Holy shit, you guys, HOLY SHIT.

 

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A Few Things

So…my Internet is out again, which makes me want to cut someone. I don’t have the patience to speak with the fucktards at AT&T anymore but I really need to get on party planning for our reception after the Vegas vacation/wedding. Oh, the stress!

Since I’ve been gone:
1. Baby L started teething. Like, legit. Teething sucks so much ass. There is screaming and fussing and not sleeping. Copious amounts of drool. And she likes to gnaw on my shoulder. A lot.

2. I found a dress for the wedding. It contains the mammoth boobs quite nicely. I’m so relieved. It’s not a wedding dress but I really like it and I will feel super comfy and ready to party!

3. I can’t stand my fiance’s brother. The end.

4. “Rent” has been on almost every day. And while I much prefer the play and I own the DVD, I can’t stop watching it.

5. This happened:

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Open Letter to Baby L at Four Months

Dear Lilah,

Today you are four months old. Can you believe it? (Well, considering that you currently have no idea, I’m sure, that FOUR WHOLE MONTHS is a big deal…you probably don’t really care…) I certainly can’t.

Your third month of life was SUPER stressful for me because you had a cold and then it went away. And then you got a worse cold after your cousin started school. I spent about 95% of my time panicking and listening to your breathing to make sure that you weren’t going to suffocate. Then I spent the other 5% of my time panicking that I might be panicking too much and wondering if I should be medicated or if this was normal for a new, first-time mom. Either way, it was pretty rough. There was a lot of snot involved. And only about half of it was yours, because I got super sick too. No fun. But nothing the two of us couldn’t handle. We’re like the dream team, you and I.

You have become super giggly, despite all the gunk in your face. You like to look at your reflection in mirrors and you are generally happy to sit in a bean bag and have brightly colored toys held in front of you so that you can grab at them and try and put them into your mouth. You do the same with my hair. But you also like to stick your entire hand into MY mouth, so I suppose we are even.Your dad and I were watching a little show called “Hell’s Kitchen” and having a discussion the other day about how people get to be so lucky as to eat in the HK restaurant and he looked at you, sitting there in the bean bag, recovering from tummy time, and asked you, “Do you have to have tickets!?” in a super high-pitched voice. And you cracked up with him for a half hour while he repeated the question over and over again. I think you both had a wonderful time with that. I should take a video of the way that he talks to you so you can see, when you’re older, what a dork your father is. But, remember, he’s OUR dork. And we love him dearly.

Tomorrow, you will have your four month vaccinations. And of course, I am a nervous wreck because I always end up crying more than you do while also sort of wanting to punch the nurse in the face for hurting you. Luckily, your Aunt Amanda will be coming with me to your appointment so that a) I might cry less if I am not holding you while they jab you with needles and b) I don’t punch anyone for hurting you. It should all be fine.

Your hair is finally starting to get a bit longer and it feels glorious on my chin when we’re cuddling. I’m so glad that you’ll still cuddle with me (not as much as when you were brand new but still enough that I get my baby fix every day) and you are actually getting better than ever at it. Now it is less because you have no choice and can’t hold your head up, but because you want your mommy. And that makes something inside me feel all warm and fuzzy and like I just might exlode.

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You make a ton of faces now. When you are displeased, you make a pouty face that, however heartbreaking, is also freaking hilarious. One day recently, you were dressed up and ready to go and visit Grandma J and you started to cry. The pouty lips were in full effect. But there I was, trying to comfort you, but you were so darn cute, I found myself laughing hysterically. (Sorry for that. I would say it won’t happen again, but I cannot promise this.)

As always, everyone loves you and wants to make you smile. But, for now at least, you save most of the smiles and giggles just for me. And you make your mommy all melty inside. You are truly one of a kind, my Lilah. One of a kind indeed.

All of my love,

Mom

Update: on this day in history, your father put you into the bathtub. In your socks.

Things to Miss…

Being a mom is pretty awesome. And it is rewarding in ways that I can’t even explain to people who don’t have kids. Because there is nothing like it. Every day there is something that amazes me about Baby L. Like how she found her feet and has yet to get bored of them. And how she giggles when her dad asks her in a silly voice where to get tickets. (Because we were watching the finale of Hell’s Kitchen and he was talking about how he wanted to go to the restaurant, and he asked her if he needed to have tickets. And for some reason, THIS is hilarious to her…) And if I could go back in time and make a different decision about having a baby, I wouldn’t change a damn thing. But there are some things that I miss…and if I could go back, I would take full advantage of.

1. Sleeping. OH. MY. GOD. I want to sleep until noon, you guys. I want it more than I have ever wanted it before. And it isn’t even like I don’t have a chance to sleep these days. Baby L sleeps all night (usually) and wakes up in a great mood and is all smiles. But it doesn’t seem to matter to my body. Because after being up with her all day, I sort of feel like I could sleep for a week straight. What’s UP with that? And if there are preggos out there (and you know who you are) and you want a word of advice?  SLEEP AS MUCH AS YOU CAN. Because you may never sleep or feel rested AGAIN.

2. Leaving the house without guilt. It doesn’t matter how often we go out or how long we’re gone. Or who is watching Baby L. I feel guilty. I want to be with her all day, every day. But then…I desperately want to DO things. Like, with other adults. And booze.

3. My old body. I always sort of thought I was a fatty. And I don’t dispute that I have always been a little overweight. But I had normal people boobs and a flat(ish) stomach. And no stretch marks. If I could go back in time and slide on that bikini, I totally would. And I would live in it for a month. But…now I am sporting a mommy suit, y’all. A mommy suit.

4. Quality time with MB. This is probably going to be another post entirely someday soon. Everyone told me that our relationship would change. And holy crap, has it changed. I wouldn’t say that this is bad. But finding time to spend alone together has proven to be quite the difficult task. But, we’re working on it.

5. Not being so freaking anal retentive. I’ve always been sort of…particular? That might be a good way to describe it without painting me into “that crazy lady”…But I am totally getting there. I am terrified of germs. Restaurants. Little kids. Mosquitoes. Bacteria. Infections. Vaccinations. Tomatoes. (This is not new, they gross me out…) Shopping carts. Seat belts. I could go on, but I think you are getting the point. I would be totally content if I could live inside a bubble with the little one. You know, because things in the world are dirty, you guys.

6. Not being covered in someone else’s bodily fluids for 23 hours of every day. This is pretty self explanatory. I mean…unless you like that sort of thing.

Oh, preggos. I really hope you know what you’re getting yourselves into!

Boobs…and Other Stuff

I’m happy to announce that our Vegas Elvis wedding has been booked for October 16th! I still can’t believe how much has happened to me over the last twelve months. Last September, I found out I was pregnant, then in November, I was fired for being pregnant, then I got engaged in January, had a baby in May, moved in with family in July and now I’m getting hitched. Sheesh. What a long, strange trip its been…

I still haven’t found a dress for the wedding. And yes, I am aware that I am cutting it super close here, but I am having trouble finding anything I like due to this post-baby body. I am basically the same size as I was (everywhere except the boobage) but things are distributed differently. And it is weird. And it makes dress shopping nearly impossible. Also, and I think I have mentioned this before, my knockers are enormous. And I’m finding that, because of this, I’m having to find even BIGGER dresses than before and then I just look…well…frumpy. So…there it is. My boobs have taken over my life.

I have to say, I’m really not even concerned with being all fancy and perfect on our day, because, let’s face it, we’re getting married in Las Vegas and we are totally not trying to impress anyone. I just want to look put together and happy. And if my boobs cooperate, looking happy won’t be a problem for me.

I have to say, I am super excited about this vacation. The wedding will be awesome, but the vacation is going to be stellar. One of my cousins (who I am not super close with) is getting married on the same day in Las Vegas. And it is super awesome, because it means that some of my family will be there. They won’t be coming to OUR wedding, but they will be hopping all around the city for the whole week. So, I’m looking forward to all of that debauchery.

It has definitely been hard to adjust to living with a five-year-old and two more adults. MB’s family really is great, but living with them can be a little hard for me. Mainly because  a) I don’t like noise, b) I hate dirty dishes, and c) sometimes I’m not wearing pants. Living with a little kid who isn’t yours and is sort of…well…disobedient and hyper as hell…I think would be hard for anyone. But then there’s me. And I’m a little OCD and have some pretty strong opinions on parenting. Or at least, how one should NOT parent. So, it is everything I can do just to keep my mouth shut sometimes. Kids are noisy. Disobedient kids are noisy and irritating.

And the dirty dishes. Holy crap, the dirty dishes. I can’t even talk about them. It hurts my little anal retentive heart.

The worst part though, is probably the privacy issue. It isn’t like anyone just barges into our room at all hours or anything. And the kid has, for the most part, gotten the message that our room is basically OFF LIMITS. But MB’s sister definitely did get a nice view of my ass the other day and MB’s mom definitely went through my closet yesterday to borrow shoes from me. This is absolutely NOT COOL if you are me, by the way. And I did have to say something this morning to her, even though I really didn’t want to step on any toes (but I guess since she was wearing MY shoes, it was all good), but I needed her to understand that I’m not a fan of people (ANYONE) rifling through my things when I’m not home. Or if I am home. Or…you know…just ever. I had all night last night to calm down to prevent flying off the handle about it, so I think that, by the time I finally got to talk to her, I was over it enough that I didn’t sound like a crazy person.  But man…that’s exactly the stuff that makes me hate living with people.

But I’m still grateful to be here. And I love every one of them to pieces. I just hope they’re prepared, if they don’t stop invading my privacy, to see a whole lot more than they bargained for.

Because, for real. Sometimes, I’m not wearing pants.

Trying to Maintain

I used to be a little annoyed when my friends started to drop off of the face of the planet because they had babies. In fact, the minute they announced pregnancy, I couldn’t help but feel a little let down. Like, “Another One Bites the Dust” was playing in the background of that conversation, every time I had it with someone. Because, you know, when someone has a baby, they are never quite the same. And, as you get older, one by one, your Happy Hour partners get picked off and start spending time researching carseats and holistic remedies and then there is no one to drink martinis with. And this lady doesn’t like to drink martinis alone.

When I got pregnant, I knew that things would change. And during the pregnancy I became a hermit. Partially because I felt so hideous that the thought of leaving the house made me cringe and partially because I had become “that pregnant friend” who can’t do any of the fun stuff. No Happy Hours. No martinis. No fun at all.

Once I had Baby L, I thought that, at least for the most part, I would go back to being the same person I was before I got pregnant. And I did. Mostly. Only now, I am less concerned with Happy Hour and more concerned with carseats and holistic cold remedies. And there is nothing wrong with that. But I do have an understanding now that I didn’t before. My friends have fallen off the face of the planet because raising kids requires, not only your undivided attention, but also a whole lot of persistence. And patience. And sacrifice. And I’m totally cool with that. At least…I am now.

And I see now, how difficult it can be to maintain friendships when the only time you get to make phone calls is in the middle of the night because that’s when the baby is sleeping. And you aren’t doing laundry. Or sucking snot out of someone’s nose. And I see some of my friends becoming a little resentful. Or distant. And, it isn’t that I don’t care. Its just that I have a lot more important things to think about now. I can’t attend every gathering. Or meet everyone for lunch with a sick, cranky baby. Or drink wine in the middle of the day. And I won’t apologize for that. And I say to those friends, “I ain’t mad atcha” for being a little distant. Because when you had your kids, I probably stayed away. You know, to avoid snot. And crying. And all that shit that mommies deal with. Because, you know, I wasn’t a mommy. And I didn’t want to deal with it.

What does surprise me, however, is that the friends of mine who HAVE kids are the ones who are seemingly the most impatient with me. Like, they are the ones who seem irritated when I can’t attend things because I can’t get a sitter. And that’s confusing. Because, excuse me friends with kids, but remember when sometimes you don’t have someone to watch your kid(s)? Or they are puking? Or your house is covered in slime because everyone has a cold? Remember? Yeah. That’s where I’m at. (Obviously, this isn’t directed at every one of my friends with kids, because some of you rock my face off, regardless of puking or colds or what have you…)

Friendships are hard. And now I understand that I might have been one of the people who made them harder for some of you guys with little ones…because I just really didn’t get it. But I got you now. Loud and clear, universe. LOUD. AND. CLEAR.

Viva Las Vegas

So, as I mentioned before, (very vaguely, and in passing) MB and I are heading out to Las Vegas and gettin’ hitched, y’all!

I am not one for traditional weddings. Not that they aren’t beautiful and touching and all that stuff…they are. And I respect people who want it to be all touching and stuff. But (and maybe you can tell this from this blog), I’m not really always all that serious. And sure, a marriage is serious business…but I don’t really think (and never have thought) that the wedding itself had to be so. So, I’ve always joked about having Elvis marry me (and whoever the lucky guy was to be) in Vegas. Despite the fact that I loathe Elvis. Because, well, I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t appreciate that story. Or being present to witness it. And if you’re anything like me, you might appreciate THAT more than getting dressed up to sit in a church. Or, a garden. Or whatever. (And, again, I’m not saying there’s anything WRONG with a church or a garden, but I’m not so much a church or garden kinda gal.) I thought it would be a neat story to tell the grandkids.

My grandparents have a timeshare condo in Las Vegas that they aren’t planning to use this year. And when my mom called and said, “Hey! Do you guys wanna get married in October? The timeshare is gonna be free!” I couldn’t say no. I mean, come ON, you guys. So, plans will be finalized this weekend. And I am super excited for so many reasons. 1. MB has never been to Vegas and he’s going to be awestruck 2. we haven’t taken a vacation since my 4th month of pregnancy and it was…lackluster… and 3. I get to marry my best friend. And Elvis will be there! And the pictures will be hilarious.

So, originally, a friend and her fiance were planning on coming and getting hitched at the same time (which was a super awesome plan too because, the more the merrier) and we were planning to wear 80’s prom attire. (I never went to prom. And I definitely never went to prom in the 80’s!) But that whole plan has fallen through. So now I’m trying to decide what I should wear. I don’t really like all that frilly white stuff (because I don’t want to look like a decorated cake) but I DO like vintage dresses (50’s and 60’s) and am a curvy, busty lady (moreso now than ever) so my question to you, dear readers, is: Do you know of any place I can find an affordable vintage style dress that does not make me look like a cake or cost an arm and a leg? (I’m still a stay-at-home-mom, remember.) It really doesn’t even have to be a wedding dress. Or white, for that matter. But I am looking for something ADORABLE. Any suggestions for the bride-to-be?

And…Now for More SNOT!

So, I don’t really get sick a lot. Sometimes, I go so long in between illnesses that I forget what it feels like to be sick and then when people around me have colds, I find myself cussing them in my head and calling them pansies. (Men, especially. But they tend to be exceptionally whiney when it comes to colds.)

Then, my baby got a cold. And then I convinced that she had everything from swine flu to whooping cough.  And then she got better. And eventually, even though she was still a little stuffy, she was back to her normal, cheerful self. She went back to sleeping all night and cooing at me all morning while we played with her toys.

And then I got a cold.

It started with a sore throat, which escalated to the point that it felt as though I had attempted to eat a few sheets of sandpaper and a headache that felt sort of like the top of my head was going to just pop right off. And a little clown was going to pop out. (I just pictured my head as a Jack-in-the-Box, in case you didn’t catch that…) And I was okay with having a cold, because 1. I had wine and 2. I am not a pansy.

Eventually, though, I realized that wine does not cure a cold. And, though I still was not a pansy, I realized that, “hey. I feel kind of shitty. That’s no good.” and then I went to sleep. And MB’s mom watched Baby L for a few hours in the morning so I could bury myself in my down comforter and pretend that I was living back in those days when I still had time to bury myself in my comforter for several hours and sleep. When I woke up, I felt better. But still not quite human. There was no more sandpaper. And the little clown had kept himself contained.  I finished out yesterday feeling tired, but generally, you know, not like  a pansy.  And then about 1 o’clock this morning, Baby L woke up and sounded like she had taken all the snot from everyone else in the whole house and jammed it into her tiny face. And so I changed her, fed her, slathered her with baby chest rub and turned on that humidifier thing (that everyone tells me to use, but that seems to make absolutely no difference in the amount of snot that my baby keeps in her face). All seemed to be well (except for the fact that now, I couldn’t sleep because I could only breathe out of my left nostril and only if I was laying on the left side of my body, which I can’t do because that’s just not how I roll.  Oh yeah, and because I was obsessing over the possibility that Baby L would suffocate on all the snot.

Because Baby L sleeps through the night, I rarely panic anymore about something tragic happening while I rest, (this is not to say that I don’t sometimes check 47 times at night to make sure she’s breathing…but now it is only sometimes and not, you know, every night…) but let me tell you…after I got done with that bulb thing, I couldn’t imagine there being anything left in there…but there was, internet, there really, really was…So…I broke down at  4:30 when she woke up, practically snorting, and gave her Benadryl (before you get all crazy-pants on me, internet, this is what the doctor TOLD me to do…) and it helped. And she did super good until around 10:30 when she had her second bottle. And then the snorty screaming started. There were saline drops, there was nose-suckage, there were tears. (Many of which were mine.) And about an hour ago, there was another dose of Benadryl.

And now, either my baby is just high, or she is feeling better. Maybe a little bit of both. But how much snot does one person have to endure!?