It is finally here, the time for weaning. This is something that really scares me. For my child's entire existence we have had a relationship where he depends upon me physically. At first it was in utero and then he came out and it became breastfeeding. However, now will be the first time in our lives together where he will not need anything physical from me. I can't give him anything he can't get from anyone else.
It's so weird that our relationship is leaving the current phase. It is all I have ever known and I love it and have become comfortable with it. We will never have this again. I am worried about how he will respond to me now that this is changing. I worry that he will become distant from me or less respondent because we will no longer have our intimate snuggle sessions.
It is also distressing to me that I am about to leave the country for a month. Not only are we about to severe this physical bond between us, but I am about to severe all physical bonds between us for 31 days.
I do not want to be a stranger to my child. I am eager to have my independence back, to have my entire body be my own again. I can't wait to eat peanut products and drink when I please and have my whole body feel sexy in underwire bras. But I also feel like I am giving up a lot. Having the final nursing session right when he wakes up in the morning or right before he goes to bed will be heartbreaking. I can't imagine how I will deal with it, but I will because that seems to be what mothers do, until we die.
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Yoga
Is it weird that I mostly like taking yoga for the Corpse Pose at the end of class? It just never feels as good without all the class crap beforehand.
Husbands and fathers
I have been noticing a trend on the inter-webs lately where women will post pictures of there husbands doing something nice for their children. On the surface this seems nice and sweet, but below that it screams of a joy at the man finally doing "something" for their child. I can't help my first impression to these photos and anecdotes being confusion.
I know I am in an unusual situation with my husband being a stay-at-home father, but still. Nothing he does for our child is a surprise or something that should be praised because he is just being a father. I don't expect high praise for changing Little Man's diaper or giving him a bath. And the best part is that Mr. Neruda doesn't either. We just trade off on jobs with little to no discussion because we both fully assume that we will be pulling our weight.
The cool part about Mr. Neruda is that he takes care of Little Man by day and by night he becomes either a TA, philosophical doctorate student, or security guard. Those are the things that he should be applauded for.
Here's some logic* for you. For all things x, if x is a father then there exists a y such that y is care of a child and y is equal to x.
* The real reason to praise my darling husband is because I decided to better myself by learning something that doesn't come easily to me, logic, and his response was to get excited about the opportunity to teach me instead of saying he doesn't want to because he does it all day as work. He's cute.
Lemonade
I have found that when life gives you breastmilk, you should make lemonade.
Case in point, I have to take my stupid pumping crap everywhere I go so I can pump the milk rather than explode. This always makes me feel like a bag-lady. It is hard to get dressy and feel sexy when you are hauling around three bags. However, I recently learned at the movies that there is a benefit to all that.
I am sticking to caffine free soda until I am done breastfeeding and movie theaters have a crap selection of drinks for my delicate palate. I have taken to sneaking my own can of caffine free diet coke in whenever I go. However, on these hot, hot days my cans either sweat all over my purse or are hot when the movie starts and there is a loud enough scene for me to open it.
Solution: I simply take out one of my bottles from the little ice chest bag I carry around to keep my milk cold and replace it with my can. If asked what is in the bag (which I am dying for some poor 17 year-old to do) I will simply whip out my breast milk and explain exactly why I have the bag and what it's contents are. Then saunter down the theater aisle to my seat where I then drink my illegal bounty.
Mwahahahahhahahaha.
Case in point, I have to take my stupid pumping crap everywhere I go so I can pump the milk rather than explode. This always makes me feel like a bag-lady. It is hard to get dressy and feel sexy when you are hauling around three bags. However, I recently learned at the movies that there is a benefit to all that.
I am sticking to caffine free soda until I am done breastfeeding and movie theaters have a crap selection of drinks for my delicate palate. I have taken to sneaking my own can of caffine free diet coke in whenever I go. However, on these hot, hot days my cans either sweat all over my purse or are hot when the movie starts and there is a loud enough scene for me to open it.
Solution: I simply take out one of my bottles from the little ice chest bag I carry around to keep my milk cold and replace it with my can. If asked what is in the bag (which I am dying for some poor 17 year-old to do) I will simply whip out my breast milk and explain exactly why I have the bag and what it's contents are. Then saunter down the theater aisle to my seat where I then drink my illegal bounty.
Mwahahahahhahahaha.
Confession
I am sad to admit that I don't know much about the Suffragettes. I know they got women the vote and were pretty cool ladies, but that is about all.
I watched the documentary Gloria last night which is about Gloria Steinem. It was a very good flick, but it shamed me with all the knowledge I don't have about those times. I know there is a quote by Susan B Anthony, "our job is not to make women grateful but to make them ungrateful." So go me there, I am apparently quite ungrateful about the whole thing since I completely take it for granted.
However, the doc gave me chills and brought tears to my eyes when it went through all the things women did to gain equality. All the words, images, and ridicule that were thrown in their faces and how they continued to power through it all. Amazing. I almost weep for being born after that maelstrom since I will never get to be a part of such an amazing, empowering, and painful movement.
I have vowed to educate myself on both movements so that I may honor their hard work and hopefully better appreciate the freedom I have and see the flaws that still exist. I want to make those ladies proud.
I watched the documentary Gloria last night which is about Gloria Steinem. It was a very good flick, but it shamed me with all the knowledge I don't have about those times. I know there is a quote by Susan B Anthony, "our job is not to make women grateful but to make them ungrateful." So go me there, I am apparently quite ungrateful about the whole thing since I completely take it for granted.
However, the doc gave me chills and brought tears to my eyes when it went through all the things women did to gain equality. All the words, images, and ridicule that were thrown in their faces and how they continued to power through it all. Amazing. I almost weep for being born after that maelstrom since I will never get to be a part of such an amazing, empowering, and painful movement.
I have vowed to educate myself on both movements so that I may honor their hard work and hopefully better appreciate the freedom I have and see the flaws that still exist. I want to make those ladies proud.
Fear a day
I just started a book, My Year with Eleanor, a memoir about a woman who loses her job and decides to follow Eleanor Roosevelt's advice about doing one thing you fear a day. The book follows her trying to live that for a whole year. This is right up my alley. I love beating my own fears and pushing myself as far as I can go.
As I began reading something odd occurred to me. I will never be able to not live that way again. Parenthood has changed everything. When I discovered my pregnancy I decided to view the whole process that way. The labor and birth will of course be scary, as will my reaction to my child, but then I will be a parent and that is done.
Not so. Parenthood is one steady stream of fear. Obviously his first few weeks into the world were scary, that is to be expected. But the fear never abates. Every time I leave him with someone else it is a little scary. Potty training scares me. The entire age range of 2-4 really does scare me. His school years scare me with all the possible bullying, pain that can be caused by other children, his own personal failures and school shootings. Him traveling anywhere without me. Sleepovers. Snow skiing, river rafting, doing anything physical where he could possibly die. When he begins riding his bike away from me by himself. Driving. College. Getting to the point when I can't reasonably expect to have him check in once a day so I know he is alive, like around 30 or so.
The fact that he exists fills my life with fear. Therefore doing something each day that scares me is really not too tall of an order. In the book the woman resorts to swimming with sharks and skydiving. I simply need to put my child in his crib at night and then leave him for eight hours straight with SIDS creepy over his shoulder.
Thank you Eleanor for making this process seem healthy and fulfilling. At least I am going to start thinking of it that way instead of the highly neurotic way I currently have.
As I began reading something odd occurred to me. I will never be able to not live that way again. Parenthood has changed everything. When I discovered my pregnancy I decided to view the whole process that way. The labor and birth will of course be scary, as will my reaction to my child, but then I will be a parent and that is done.
Not so. Parenthood is one steady stream of fear. Obviously his first few weeks into the world were scary, that is to be expected. But the fear never abates. Every time I leave him with someone else it is a little scary. Potty training scares me. The entire age range of 2-4 really does scare me. His school years scare me with all the possible bullying, pain that can be caused by other children, his own personal failures and school shootings. Him traveling anywhere without me. Sleepovers. Snow skiing, river rafting, doing anything physical where he could possibly die. When he begins riding his bike away from me by himself. Driving. College. Getting to the point when I can't reasonably expect to have him check in once a day so I know he is alive, like around 30 or so.
The fact that he exists fills my life with fear. Therefore doing something each day that scares me is really not too tall of an order. In the book the woman resorts to swimming with sharks and skydiving. I simply need to put my child in his crib at night and then leave him for eight hours straight with SIDS creepy over his shoulder.
Thank you Eleanor for making this process seem healthy and fulfilling. At least I am going to start thinking of it that way instead of the highly neurotic way I currently have.
My best friend
I have decided to make Emma Stone my new best friend. The details on how to do that are a little sketchy at the moment, I only know I must.
She is quoted in Entertainment Weekly as saying about a stunt gone wrong on set:
I spider-monkeyed onto Ryan's head and wrapped my body around him and kicked him in the throat and started to cry.
Anyone who not only freaks out like that, but then describes it like should be my friend. Also, anyone who is like Olive in Easy A or who acts like Olive should be my friend.
Now on to the how question!
She is quoted in Entertainment Weekly as saying about a stunt gone wrong on set:
I spider-monkeyed onto Ryan's head and wrapped my body around him and kicked him in the throat and started to cry.
Anyone who not only freaks out like that, but then describes it like should be my friend. Also, anyone who is like Olive in Easy A or who acts like Olive should be my friend.
Now on to the how question!
Renaissance
I am having my own personal Renaissance and it feels wonderful.
I think it stems from a new found freedom from constant mommy duties or it could be something completely different but whatever it is I am loving it.
I have started painting again, three completed pictures and one more in mind for sure. I have started reading actual books again. I have also started writing and thinking and dreaming up new projects again. I find I have a new energy about things. I am constantly humming with new ideas for creation. I think I am driving Mr. Neruda a little crazy actually. He is happy about my personal projects but my inspiration does not stop there, it extends to joint projects and he isn’t exactly in the same place as me at the same time as me so . . .
Anyhoo, I am feeling more fulfilled with my time and self value. Gone are the days of working all day, caring for the baby and then vegging in-front of the TV until I exhaustedly fall into bed. Even if my time is spent in a hot bath it is not wasted time. I read a real book in there. I plan my new projects. I listen to new music that I missed .
My emaciated soul is soaking in this Renaissance with glee. Too long have I let myself go without everything that is interesting about life. I haven’t challenged myself in months. However, now I am challenging myself physically, intellectually and emotionally and I feel whole again.
I think it stems from a new found freedom from constant mommy duties or it could be something completely different but whatever it is I am loving it.
I have started painting again, three completed pictures and one more in mind for sure. I have started reading actual books again. I have also started writing and thinking and dreaming up new projects again. I find I have a new energy about things. I am constantly humming with new ideas for creation. I think I am driving Mr. Neruda a little crazy actually. He is happy about my personal projects but my inspiration does not stop there, it extends to joint projects and he isn’t exactly in the same place as me at the same time as me so . . .
Anyhoo, I am feeling more fulfilled with my time and self value. Gone are the days of working all day, caring for the baby and then vegging in-front of the TV until I exhaustedly fall into bed. Even if my time is spent in a hot bath it is not wasted time. I read a real book in there. I plan my new projects. I listen to new music that I missed .
My emaciated soul is soaking in this Renaissance with glee. Too long have I let myself go without everything that is interesting about life. I haven’t challenged myself in months. However, now I am challenging myself physically, intellectually and emotionally and I feel whole again.
Balance
I think I have finally found a balance in my life. After Little Man was born my life in a vacuum began. It is difficult to get a babysitter, sure, but there is more to it. It is hard to want one or to not feel bad about getting one. Being a working mom it is hard to give up time with Little Man when I see him a whopping two hours a day on weekdays. To give up those two hours for something, anything, is really hard. During the weekends it is a little easier to part with him but scheduling anything during the week is horrible whether it be girls’ night out, exercise, major home projects, movie, shopping, etc. It was especially hard right after I went back to work and he began to forget about me by the time Friday rolled around. I just wasn’t in his life much. He was never rude or cried when I picked him up, he just didn’t seem to care or recognize me more than anyone else. And to compare his response to me with his response to Mr. Neruda, giant grins, squeals, etc, it was heartbreaking (though wonderful that he loves his father).
However, he has started a new schedule and I feel like we have now gotten to know one another well enough for him to understand who I am. He likes me as much as his dad now, sometimes more. But what has made a huge impact on my life is his sleeping schedule. He routinely goes down at 7:30-8:30 and sleeps through the night until 6-7:30. It is wonderful! When I come home I have concentrated Hux time until his bedtime. This includes nursing twice, bath time, play time, singing, dancing, reading books, piano and guitar playing, etc. Then I rock him to sleep (hopefully) once and that is the end of that. We bond, we play, we enjoy one another. And then mommy gets woman time. I am still on call, as I will be for the rest of my life, if he is sick or something is amiss. But mostly I am guaranteed uninterrupted non-baby time. Sure sometimes that time includes laundry and dishes and other crap but it also includes hot baths, painting, reading, husband time, exercise, the list is extensive. And I love it.
I love that I can balance the different aspects of my life now. If I want to meet someone for dinner or run an errand I can guilt-free do at 730 or 8. I can go to the Y and swim with no problem once he is down. I can indulge in hobbies other than pumping and baby care (my two main hobbies currently). I can live.
This has rejuvenated my life in so many ways. And I sigh a calming yoga sigh of relief (I can do that now because I can finally take the class and have learned how!).
However, he has started a new schedule and I feel like we have now gotten to know one another well enough for him to understand who I am. He likes me as much as his dad now, sometimes more. But what has made a huge impact on my life is his sleeping schedule. He routinely goes down at 7:30-8:30 and sleeps through the night until 6-7:30. It is wonderful! When I come home I have concentrated Hux time until his bedtime. This includes nursing twice, bath time, play time, singing, dancing, reading books, piano and guitar playing, etc. Then I rock him to sleep (hopefully) once and that is the end of that. We bond, we play, we enjoy one another. And then mommy gets woman time. I am still on call, as I will be for the rest of my life, if he is sick or something is amiss. But mostly I am guaranteed uninterrupted non-baby time. Sure sometimes that time includes laundry and dishes and other crap but it also includes hot baths, painting, reading, husband time, exercise, the list is extensive. And I love it.
I love that I can balance the different aspects of my life now. If I want to meet someone for dinner or run an errand I can guilt-free do at 730 or 8. I can go to the Y and swim with no problem once he is down. I can indulge in hobbies other than pumping and baby care (my two main hobbies currently). I can live.
This has rejuvenated my life in so many ways. And I sigh a calming yoga sigh of relief (I can do that now because I can finally take the class and have learned how!).
I am woman
My birthday is looming, moving me closer and closer to thirty. This really isn't something that bothers me. I don't really fear age, I only fear not owning my age well. I hope to age gracefully gaining wisdom, experiences, and a lack of wrinkles. I think I feel settled adding a year to my life because I feel 28, in a good way. I have a baby, a husband, a career, a second-glorious home, etc. These are things I think I should have at this age and am proud of them. I sometimes don't feel my age and am shocked that I have all these things, however, when I say the number 28 out loud it makes perfect since that this things have accumalated.
And with this age has come a certain amount of wisdom. When I was a kid I hated the fact that I was a girl. The only way I felt I could be happy and successful was to act as boyish as it was possible and look as not girlish as I could. I felt that since my insides were so fun and active, my outsides couldn't be girly or it would ruin everything.
Then, as I got older I felt that I was selling out to adulthood if I dressed girly-ish and that people wouldn't know the real me inside because the outside me would look so different. However, this year I have had a realization. I have slowly started dressing nicely, wearing real make-up, matching my purse to my outfits, etc. And it has made me feel pretty and poised. Poise and presence are things I aspire to in adulthood.
I have realized that I want to look nice. I want to wear pretty, frilly dresses, business suits, make-up, heels, product in my hair, etc. I want to so I will be respected in my career, because I feel better about myself and more mature and because I weirdly want to be feminine for my son so he will be proud of me. But the real eureka moment came when I realized that this new desire in me in no way takes away from my inner self.
Just because I wear a frilly dress one day does not mean that I quit being a first degree black belt in tae kwon do. Walking around in high heels doesn't mean that I never packed parachutes or went sky diving. In fact, I think I am more kick-ass because I can do both. I am still an awesome world traveler since I know that I should choose tennis shoes while catching a train in France, even though I now choose heels for work or a night out.
With my maturity has come an understanding that to be an awesome, happy woman is to except all of my womanhood. That means that I can strive to be pretty, read literature and make "that's what she said jokes" all at the same time. I can cry at movies now without any regret because I understand that crying while female does not mean I am weak but that I now have so much more to love and lose in my life which allows me to empathize with storylines in a way I never could before.
At the age of almost-28 I can now embrace all the caveates of my womanhood and I wouldn't trade one wrinkle or stretchmark for that knowledge.
And with this age has come a certain amount of wisdom. When I was a kid I hated the fact that I was a girl. The only way I felt I could be happy and successful was to act as boyish as it was possible and look as not girlish as I could. I felt that since my insides were so fun and active, my outsides couldn't be girly or it would ruin everything.
Then, as I got older I felt that I was selling out to adulthood if I dressed girly-ish and that people wouldn't know the real me inside because the outside me would look so different. However, this year I have had a realization. I have slowly started dressing nicely, wearing real make-up, matching my purse to my outfits, etc. And it has made me feel pretty and poised. Poise and presence are things I aspire to in adulthood.
I have realized that I want to look nice. I want to wear pretty, frilly dresses, business suits, make-up, heels, product in my hair, etc. I want to so I will be respected in my career, because I feel better about myself and more mature and because I weirdly want to be feminine for my son so he will be proud of me. But the real eureka moment came when I realized that this new desire in me in no way takes away from my inner self.
Just because I wear a frilly dress one day does not mean that I quit being a first degree black belt in tae kwon do. Walking around in high heels doesn't mean that I never packed parachutes or went sky diving. In fact, I think I am more kick-ass because I can do both. I am still an awesome world traveler since I know that I should choose tennis shoes while catching a train in France, even though I now choose heels for work or a night out.
With my maturity has come an understanding that to be an awesome, happy woman is to except all of my womanhood. That means that I can strive to be pretty, read literature and make "that's what she said jokes" all at the same time. I can cry at movies now without any regret because I understand that crying while female does not mean I am weak but that I now have so much more to love and lose in my life which allows me to empathize with storylines in a way I never could before.
At the age of almost-28 I can now embrace all the caveates of my womanhood and I wouldn't trade one wrinkle or stretchmark for that knowledge.
Decadent evening for one
Mr. Neruda and I decided to sell our house and buy a new one while having an infant. The new house came with quite a few quirks, so many so that we are still working on the place over a month after moving in. I will say that Little Man sure doesn't speed things up much.
One of the reasons we chose this house is because of the magnificent bathtub in the master bathroom. I have a thing for baths. I like them very much. However, the faucet needed fixing on the tub and it has been off limits to me . . . until tonight.
Tonight was the night of decadence. And I did it up right. I did every single thing I could think of to pamper myself. I nursed my baby and put him down for the night. That bought me three hours, which I could push to four before needing to pump, so I actually had a small glass of wine. If you are in the camp of thinking nursing moms shouldn't drink at all, so am I. However, I think we should all be happy that I didn't partake of my drink of choice, scotch, and that I stuck to wine. I had the largest brownie I could cut from the pan without actually taking the whole pan with me. I ran the water hot, added lavendar sea salt, and lit a candle.
I read for an entire 45 minutes straight. That is something that has been unheard-of lately. I rubbed my kioske expensive dead sea salt stuff all over me (I love kioske stuff. You can usually fine great deals and they have cool stuff like neat sheets, and hot irons, and ointments.). I then lathered myself with my fancy lotion and chilled out to some Fleet Foxes.
It was a dream. I haven't felt so care free and fancy in a long time. Eventhough I can never stop being a mom and am always on-call, I took a much needed hiatus from my duties and lived a selfish, decadent moment. Amen.
One of the reasons we chose this house is because of the magnificent bathtub in the master bathroom. I have a thing for baths. I like them very much. However, the faucet needed fixing on the tub and it has been off limits to me . . . until tonight.
Tonight was the night of decadence. And I did it up right. I did every single thing I could think of to pamper myself. I nursed my baby and put him down for the night. That bought me three hours, which I could push to four before needing to pump, so I actually had a small glass of wine. If you are in the camp of thinking nursing moms shouldn't drink at all, so am I. However, I think we should all be happy that I didn't partake of my drink of choice, scotch, and that I stuck to wine. I had the largest brownie I could cut from the pan without actually taking the whole pan with me. I ran the water hot, added lavendar sea salt, and lit a candle.
I read for an entire 45 minutes straight. That is something that has been unheard-of lately. I rubbed my kioske expensive dead sea salt stuff all over me (I love kioske stuff. You can usually fine great deals and they have cool stuff like neat sheets, and hot irons, and ointments.). I then lathered myself with my fancy lotion and chilled out to some Fleet Foxes.
It was a dream. I haven't felt so care free and fancy in a long time. Eventhough I can never stop being a mom and am always on-call, I took a much needed hiatus from my duties and lived a selfish, decadent moment. Amen.
Sexy characters
I recently began a discussion with my fellow nerd-friends about which fictional characters they would most like to boink. Hilarity ensued along with a nice list for myself. My list is:
Jamie Fraser - Outlander by Diana Gabaldon
Mr. Darcy - Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Eric Northman - Sookie Stackhouse Series by Charlaine Harris
Josef Kavalier - The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
Edmond Dantes - The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas
Faramir and Aragorn - Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
Sirius Black - Harry Potter by JK Rowling
Jon Snow - Game of Thrones by George RR Martin
Death - The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
Jamie Fraser - Outlander by Diana Gabaldon
Mr. Darcy - Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Eric Northman - Sookie Stackhouse Series by Charlaine Harris
Josef Kavalier - The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
Edmond Dantes - The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas
Faramir and Aragorn - Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
Sirius Black - Harry Potter by JK Rowling
Jon Snow - Game of Thrones by George RR Martin
Death - The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
Apocalypse soon . . . a plan
For some reason I constantly feel the need to think about and plan for the (must be) coming apocalypse. I have no idea in what form it will take, nuclear, zombie, religious, global warming, something else even worse. Anyways, it will be bad and it will take a plan.
I recently watched Skyline and came to a conclusion for how to survive. I must find the most attractive brunette female with a moral compass, preferably with a love interest and then do whatever she wants and follow her wherever she goes. Most men, especially black, Hispanic, Asian, and Native American should be avoided at all cost, unless they would like to come along and be killed before me by either saving me or by just being in the right place at the right time. I also need to avoid all bitchy, slutty blonde girls. They will last for a while, but won’t make it until the end.
Pretty much, if anything extreme begins to happen I will immediately default to believing I am in a movie and will begin to behave accordingly to be able to make it to the end and survive. I really see no other logical way to approach such a situation.
I recently watched Skyline and came to a conclusion for how to survive. I must find the most attractive brunette female with a moral compass, preferably with a love interest and then do whatever she wants and follow her wherever she goes. Most men, especially black, Hispanic, Asian, and Native American should be avoided at all cost, unless they would like to come along and be killed before me by either saving me or by just being in the right place at the right time. I also need to avoid all bitchy, slutty blonde girls. They will last for a while, but won’t make it until the end.
Pretty much, if anything extreme begins to happen I will immediately default to believing I am in a movie and will begin to behave accordingly to be able to make it to the end and survive. I really see no other logical way to approach such a situation.
Huxhill
Since everyone keeps telling me that my child looks like Winston Churchill I have decide to start a series of Huxhill photos. The first enstallment is below:
Customer Service
So, here’s the thing about my job, I see a lot of people with issues. All kinds of issues: hygienic, rude, intelligence, taste, child-rearing, mental, maturity, etc. My first impulse was to be turned off from these people and get mad at them for behaving the way that they do. However, I then began to notice a trend. Those certain people would come in with their parents, children, siblings, grandparents or spouses and I would notice certain things. Some of the groups had three generations of rude, un-hygienic people. Some children who were hateful and disrespectful would come in a third time with their parents and the parents would treat me worse. I began to see that this had a lot to do with the way people were raised. In my mind, I can’t understand why being poor means you can’t bathe or brush your teeth. I completely understand that wearing nice clothes or clothes that were spotless is out of reach for them, but a toothbrush and toothpaste can be found at the dollar store and lasts for a long time. On the flip side, I don’t understand why being rich means you can’t have manners and treats others respectfully. You would think they would have enough money to feel happy and well-cared for and then turn that on others. However, some things that I value are simply not taught in other homes. Period. When I see three generations of people behaving in the same, unseemly way I begin to wonder if I can really blame the youngest for sure, but really any of them?
It makes me suddenly realize how important my actions and what I teach are. I was raised to never question certain things. We always have hygiene, we say please and thank you, we wear clean clothes, we walk with our shoulders back and smile at others. That isn’t to say that if I am sick on Saturday I may not wake up and brush my teeth or take a shower, I will probably just lay around moaning and demanding service from my husband. But day to day I do these things without question and I assume the majority of others will also.
My goal is to engrain even more things into my child’s head. We never recycled at my house growing up, that is something I learned in college and it is something that I have to constantly think about and get myself to do instead of being lazy. I hope that he sees it constantly and never thinks about it. The same goes for volunteering to help others, gardening, eating healthy and fresh, etc. Mr. Neruda and I have talked about making a list of things we want to make ourselves do religiously so that it will come more naturally for him.
I still find it difficult to deal with those people who ooze with issues. Sometimes the smell of them, or the abusive way they treat me makes it impossible to give them good service and not think ill of them. But I think I need to consider the issue a little more closely and just be thankful I was raised the way I was and consider some of their negative traits as things they don’t try to do, but have just been taught to do.
It makes me suddenly realize how important my actions and what I teach are. I was raised to never question certain things. We always have hygiene, we say please and thank you, we wear clean clothes, we walk with our shoulders back and smile at others. That isn’t to say that if I am sick on Saturday I may not wake up and brush my teeth or take a shower, I will probably just lay around moaning and demanding service from my husband. But day to day I do these things without question and I assume the majority of others will also.
My goal is to engrain even more things into my child’s head. We never recycled at my house growing up, that is something I learned in college and it is something that I have to constantly think about and get myself to do instead of being lazy. I hope that he sees it constantly and never thinks about it. The same goes for volunteering to help others, gardening, eating healthy and fresh, etc. Mr. Neruda and I have talked about making a list of things we want to make ourselves do religiously so that it will come more naturally for him.
I still find it difficult to deal with those people who ooze with issues. Sometimes the smell of them, or the abusive way they treat me makes it impossible to give them good service and not think ill of them. But I think I need to consider the issue a little more closely and just be thankful I was raised the way I was and consider some of their negative traits as things they don’t try to do, but have just been taught to do.
HP Awesomeness
Here is a link to the new Harry Potter movie, and if I do say so myself, it looks AWESOME!
Also, we just bought a house and it is the one we wanted A LOT! So this is a nice day so far =).
Also, we just bought a house and it is the one we wanted A LOT! So this is a nice day so far =).
Breaking news
This just in: The Neruda's first house just sold. One Neruda is quoted as saying about the sale, "We are just ecstatic. It felt like a long time coming, but now that it is finally here . . . well, surreal is how I would describe it. It is just fabulous. Oh, I think I'm going to cry .. . . (blows nose)."
The closing date is May 25th, the other house is in talks for purchase now, and any friends and family who would like to help them move will be welcomed by the happy family.
The closing date is May 25th, the other house is in talks for purchase now, and any friends and family who would like to help them move will be welcomed by the happy family.
All grown-up
It has finally happened. I am a full-grown, all-the-time adult. For one, I haven't felt young for a while now but I also haven't felt adult-like, just somewhere in the middle at a transitional spot.
But I now feel like I have transitioned. Yesterday I went to my first school visit of the Summer Reading Program season. It was an all day event where I spoke to a group of kids every class period. Therefore, I was faced with a lot of chitchat time with the school media specialists and teachers. That part of the job normally makes me very nervous and is pretty miserable for me. I hate needing to carry conversations with people I don't know. But yesterday I had zero problems.
Topics we spoke about:
* Selling a house
* Buying a house
* Realators in general and whether they are needed
* Home repair
* Shuttling children around to their events
* Breastfeeding
* Babies
* Saving money to travel for family vacations
* Airplane crashes
* Insurance
* Immaturity of Freshman
* Fellow librarians that we all know in our business network
* Job hunting
* Good neighborhoods and schools for children
* Problem with finding a Branch Manager
* Problem with awful co-workers
I know there were more things and I know none of them had anything to do with my love of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or my favorite new band. The weirdest part about this is that I had a lot to contribute to these conversations and actually became quite involved in them. I even gave advise to one of the ladies about pumping at work and which bottles and nipples were best for breastfeeding babies because her daughter had just had a baby and was about to return to work while breastfeeding.
I don't know what has become of me. I don't really mind it though. I really am interested in all these new topics and they all take up a large part of my mind right now.
However, I am still me. I just painted my toenails purple and am finally watching the TV show Battlestar Galatica. Under my professional clothes, spit-up stains, real jewelry, finacial woes, major life choices, etc is still the nugget of me that has been there since birth.
I wonder what Little Man's nugget is like?
But I now feel like I have transitioned. Yesterday I went to my first school visit of the Summer Reading Program season. It was an all day event where I spoke to a group of kids every class period. Therefore, I was faced with a lot of chitchat time with the school media specialists and teachers. That part of the job normally makes me very nervous and is pretty miserable for me. I hate needing to carry conversations with people I don't know. But yesterday I had zero problems.
Topics we spoke about:
* Selling a house
* Buying a house
* Realators in general and whether they are needed
* Home repair
* Shuttling children around to their events
* Breastfeeding
* Babies
* Saving money to travel for family vacations
* Airplane crashes
* Insurance
* Immaturity of Freshman
* Fellow librarians that we all know in our business network
* Job hunting
* Good neighborhoods and schools for children
* Problem with finding a Branch Manager
* Problem with awful co-workers
I know there were more things and I know none of them had anything to do with my love of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or my favorite new band. The weirdest part about this is that I had a lot to contribute to these conversations and actually became quite involved in them. I even gave advise to one of the ladies about pumping at work and which bottles and nipples were best for breastfeeding babies because her daughter had just had a baby and was about to return to work while breastfeeding.
I don't know what has become of me. I don't really mind it though. I really am interested in all these new topics and they all take up a large part of my mind right now.
However, I am still me. I just painted my toenails purple and am finally watching the TV show Battlestar Galatica. Under my professional clothes, spit-up stains, real jewelry, finacial woes, major life choices, etc is still the nugget of me that has been there since birth.
I wonder what Little Man's nugget is like?
1st Race, for real this time
Today marked a very special occasion. One that I am thrilled about and hope is the beginning of something beautiful.
Little Man's first race!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Technically, I ran the Koman Run when I was 6 months pregnant and did count that as his first race, but this time he was breathing oxygen and wearing a bib number and everything so this is probably his first one. I actually made his bib myself because I didn't think it fair for him to not have one in his first race. And because I thought it was hilarious and adorable.
It was beautiful. The weather was great, we were all in good spirits, and I ran into my boss as she was doing the 5K. Little Man could not have been a better sport. We got there, picked up our packets and all, breastfed (on a windy day outside which was a challenge) and then lined up for the race. By the time we were lined up he had fallen asleep. However, it turns out that he is one heck of a trainer. I had to stop twice to walk and every time I did he began to stir and stretch and I wasn't sure how well he would do awake so off I would go running again. Then we end with another awkward feeding session and a blow out diaper. However, through every single thing he was all smiles and contentment. He just let us manipulate him anyway we wanted and just went with the flow. As long as milk was in his tummy he was good to go. I just love him and his laid back nature. He is fabulous!
In my defense to walking, this was my first real running exertion since labor, or actually a few months before that. I have only been allowed to exercise for 3 weeks now and had a c-section, so I feel I did pretty well. I did finish third, which was annoying since I was in the Stroller Derby but the two in front both had 1 and 2 year olds which means they have been running a lot longer than myself.
One highlight of the afternoon was at the end of the run when I was racing uphill and feeling pretty weak. A man ran past me and shouted out, "Way to run, Mom. Good job!" I am not sure why but that made me feel amazing. It was a kind of validation for where I am in my life right now and for how uphill my running regimen really is. This is not the easiest thing to come back from, though it is possible. It is just nice to have other runners acknowledging that I am not this puny because I am weak and pathetic, but because my abs were cut through and I carried a whole nother person inside me for 9 months.
Little Man's first race!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Technically, I ran the Koman Run when I was 6 months pregnant and did count that as his first race, but this time he was breathing oxygen and wearing a bib number and everything so this is probably his first one. I actually made his bib myself because I didn't think it fair for him to not have one in his first race. And because I thought it was hilarious and adorable.
It was beautiful. The weather was great, we were all in good spirits, and I ran into my boss as she was doing the 5K. Little Man could not have been a better sport. We got there, picked up our packets and all, breastfed (on a windy day outside which was a challenge) and then lined up for the race. By the time we were lined up he had fallen asleep. However, it turns out that he is one heck of a trainer. I had to stop twice to walk and every time I did he began to stir and stretch and I wasn't sure how well he would do awake so off I would go running again. Then we end with another awkward feeding session and a blow out diaper. However, through every single thing he was all smiles and contentment. He just let us manipulate him anyway we wanted and just went with the flow. As long as milk was in his tummy he was good to go. I just love him and his laid back nature. He is fabulous!
In my defense to walking, this was my first real running exertion since labor, or actually a few months before that. I have only been allowed to exercise for 3 weeks now and had a c-section, so I feel I did pretty well. I did finish third, which was annoying since I was in the Stroller Derby but the two in front both had 1 and 2 year olds which means they have been running a lot longer than myself.
One highlight of the afternoon was at the end of the run when I was racing uphill and feeling pretty weak. A man ran past me and shouted out, "Way to run, Mom. Good job!" I am not sure why but that made me feel amazing. It was a kind of validation for where I am in my life right now and for how uphill my running regimen really is. This is not the easiest thing to come back from, though it is possible. It is just nice to have other runners acknowledging that I am not this puny because I am weak and pathetic, but because my abs were cut through and I carried a whole nother person inside me for 9 months.
Emotional mommy
I have started reading Kelly Oxford's blog. She has quite a few hilarious things to read. However, I was struck by one of the things she said about crying.
When I was a kid I’d see my Mom crying during a movie and I’d think,
“How embarrassing. She has issues!”
In retrospect, I was simply lacking life experience, so the movie couldn’t draw any emotion out of me.
Example: Salinger and I watched “My Sister’s Keeper”
I went to the bathroom four times to keep her from seeing me crying, but she didn’t cry at all… because she doesn’t understand pain or loss or girls’ movies… yet.
That was absolutely me when I was younger, and is really still me now. However, since I have begun getting so weepy I have started getting terrified of becoming That woman. Ugh. But after reading that blog post I started thinking about it differently. I apparently have A LOT to draw from now.
When I was a kid I’d see my Mom crying during a movie and I’d think,
“How embarrassing. She has issues!”
In retrospect, I was simply lacking life experience, so the movie couldn’t draw any emotion out of me.
Example: Salinger and I watched “My Sister’s Keeper”
I went to the bathroom four times to keep her from seeing me crying, but she didn’t cry at all… because she doesn’t understand pain or loss or girls’ movies… yet.
That was absolutely me when I was younger, and is really still me now. However, since I have begun getting so weepy I have started getting terrified of becoming That woman. Ugh. But after reading that blog post I started thinking about it differently. I apparently have A LOT to draw from now.
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