When I was 13 years old, I remember my mother standing with her hands on her hips looking at me with a combination of fear and anger. We’d been having another argument over something (I honestly can’t remember what) and as she got more and more angry, I watched her face turn red, then magenta, and finally flames started to boil out of her ears. “I’ll see you on the other side!” she yelled and walked off.
I was baffled.
I made it to the other side some time in college. I grew out of the teenage angst and in to the “much more mature” early 20’s angst. I progressed through my twenties, got married, had a baby, and realized exactly what my mother was talking about. And just yesterday, as I slammed on my breaks to avoid a... Read more
Do you suck at memes? I know you don’t because I see you doing them. I SUCK at memes. So instead, let me tell you about this time I went to a party and told a roomful of people I just met six weird things about me.
Friday night I went to a mom’s night out gig with a group of women from the Yahoo group I joined. It was fun and I got to meet a group of women without a child attached to the hip. I think it’s amazing that a group of women can get together with nothing else in common but the fact that they spawned children and talk for hours in the kitchen about everything from boobs to episiotomy stitches to baby food. And somehow, I was able to come up with six freakish things to share in the... Read more
This is usually the sentence we get immediately after answering the question, “So what brought you to Seattle?” People gasp and make frowny faces as they eye us up and down at how-in-the-world-stupid-do-you-have-to -be-to-live-three-and-a-half-hours-from-your-closest-relative. We smile, sometimes explaining further and sometimes not, and wait for the conversation to turn toward the incredibly high housing market and cost of living followed by the extreme liberal politics with people assuming things wrongly. We’re used to it now. It’s happened a lot.
It’s hard to explain to people that we moved to Seattle for a daydream. We moved to Seattle because we idealized the location and realized we will forever hate ourselves if we don’t at least... Read more
I appreciate everyone’s responses to my previous post. I found myself thinking about this for several weeks and just Monday, when we were able to see the little man who is making his June debut, it became a solidified fear. The day we found out we were having a boy, I was not only thrilled beyond belief but terrified to a catatonic state. He became real. He became mine. He became both a symbol of struggle and happiness.
Recently, a really good friend of mine asked about the “joy” of motherhood. She asked when, exactly, it hits because nursing every two hours and not sleeping for four months is not exactly “joyful.” And it’s not. I think people who tell you those first few months were a joyful time in their lives are either lying, don’t remember, or they’re God.
I sure as hell am not God.
Her question stuck with me for a long while. It found its way in to the pit of my stomach and sat, festered, and grew in to fear. I was honest when I answered her. I was honest to say that to this day I do not exactly embody a “joyful” mom. We have joyful times. We enjoy life more now as she’s older and can interact with us. We mesh a little... Read more
Our kids are images of our inner selves. I noted that in the past, when I saw so much of my own personality in her. But now that she’s older, I see how much of our mannerisms, our quirky characteristics and our obsessive/compulsive behaviors rub off on these impressionable little people.
Here I have documented the color coding our two year old has recently taken to. One day, blue became Daddy’s, red became LB’s and everything green became Mommy’s. We try to ask her what color the baby gets but her head spins in circles, her eyes glaze... Read more
The thing about the Internet, is that sometimes it can be a sour place with hate and darkness. At other times, like today, when all of you are clamoring to hear the news of our next baby, to share in the gender war, to be here with us when we hear great news, I think I fall in love with The Internet like it’s the first day we met and you are wearing the same suit you wore that one night we walked down by the pier and talked all night.
Good times. Good times.
I know you want to hear that CB is healthy. CB’s spinal chord looks great and baby’s heartbeat was strong and wonderful. CB was moving around so much that at one point the technician says, “Active little bugger. Just like the older one there, hu?” as she glances up at my toddler who... Read more
I knew when I became a mom my life would never be the same. It was an intangible thought, though, one I would not fully grasp until well after LB’s first birthday. Perhaps even then, I struggle at times with how complex and deep these changes go.
Life changes beyond the obvious sleep deprivation, spit-up, baby crap that now resides in your living room/car/den/kitchen/coat pockets. It’s something that lives and breathes in your mind as you worry about fires, car accidents, illnesses. You cringe when they hurt and you cry when they cry. And you wake up running when they call for you at 2AM.
But most certainly the most glaring change of all, as I sit here trying to work while LB is at school and I listen to my iTunes library, is that somewhere after Nora Jones... Read more
I recently let my blog back on google after a three year lock down from all things search-able.
Holy effing hell, y’all.
It’s been two days and already I see why the Internet is a scary scary place. I see why I won’t let my daughter cross the street without looking both ways and why I will NEVER EVER give her permission to do a google search for something as innocent as “how to insert my tampon” should she ever feel the need. Do what any self-respecting seventh grader would do in the days before google, go to a friends house and ask HER. Like we did back in the 80’s.
I’m struggling a little bit with my decision to open up the site because I thought perhaps the world of wide webs would prefer not to hear about butt... Read more
Internet, you’re always here for me to tell you secrets like the time I tied my bra around hotel curtains, our sex life and vaginal sonograms. We sit, much like a Folgers commercial, in our PJ’s at breakfast laughing about social fopas and