Wednesday, August 26, 2009

au revoir les enfants in tutus

I took this picture of Lena yesterday during her toddler dance class, and I simply cannot stop looking at it. It makes me wonder how we got so lucky to have the cutest baby girl, with the funniest little personality? Because I know she looks like a lost puppy here, but in reality she was just goofing around and making faces at me. And I try to remember this when she's refusing to nap, go to sleep before 10pm, or relinquish the broccoli florette that she is just as vehemently refusing to eat.

Unfortunately, as stupid-cute as she is in her little sparkly leotard and pigtails, I am impatiently counting down the dance lessons we have left. After seven weeks of suffering through the indignity of mommy & me toddler sessions, most of the time of which I spend chasing Lena from door to door to door in the studio because she thinks it is oh so hi-larious to try to beat me to the exits instead of learning to tendu! or passé! or any of the other ridiculous things they're pretending to teach children who aren't even aware that they have knees, yet, let me tell you how ready I am for it all to be over.

To be fair - the studio and everyone who works there have been so lovely, but I realize now that toddler dance classes are specifically meant for sucker moms and grandmas who want to see their babies in tutus, because man-oh-man is it adorable to see a classful of baby tutus. But in actuality most of the toddlers spend the class wandering around, looking lost and slightly terrified at the frantic mothers who are desperately trying to coach them to fly like a butterfly! gallop like a horse! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST DO SOMETHING VAGUELY PARTICIPATORY SO MOMMY CAN STOP TRYING TO REMEMBER HOW TO SKIP WHILE FACING A 30-FOOT-LONG FLOOR-TO-CEILING MIRROR IN FLUORESCENT LIGHTING.

Just three more weeks and we're going back to music class, where I can sit in peace on the floor against the wall while Lena learns to bang a real drum kit or abuse an actual accordion. And maybe, if I'm feeling ambitious, I'll track down one of those tumbling classes where I can sit outside with the other mommies and drink coffee while she learns to somersault and burn off all that adorable toddler energy. Oh, that adorable, bottomless reservoir of toddler energy...

Dance class, perhaps we'll meet again. Like, say, in two or three years when Lena is capable of taking turns, jumping, and managing the complexities of navigating a bathroom trip while wearing a leotard. Until then.

Friday, August 14, 2009

2004


This week has not been as productive as I'd initially hoped, but I keep telling myself to give it time. I remind myself that the prospect of fifteen hours of free time a week is just too overwhelming, and I remember that every time we take Lena to some place completely amazing by toddler standards, her reaction is to suddenly become silent, tuck her chin down, and stay close while she scopes the place out. In the past I'd blamed this trait on her father, who is incapable of accepting a gift without initially giving the (highly annoying) air of, "Oh, yeah, that's, uh...nice..." before warming up to the idea. But maybe I bear a tiny bit of responsibility, too. Maybe. A tiny bit.

Not once did I put pencil to paper this week, and I only made it out for a run one morning, yesterday, when I was nearly shoved out the door by my loving husband, and really it was more of a half-mile walk, after which I returned home sweating and winded and today I am sooo soore, but dammit I WENT, and that should totally make up for the six cookies yesterday afternoon that I only ate because I had company and company cookies are completely allowable anyway. (dammit.)

Anyway.

What I have succeeded at doing this week is tackling the issue of photo albums. Ta da! After the last album I put together in 2003 (which, by the way, isn't finished, but I'm ignoring that fact right now) I decided I'd had it with photo prints. The ordering, the sorting, the fingerprints, the falling-out-of-the-albums. Don't even get me started on scrapbooking. Then, when we took our trip to Vancouver while I was pregnant with Lena, and I saw our friend Judi's stunning album that was printed straight from Apple via iPhoto (whizz-bang!), I knew right then and there that I'd seen the light, and I would never, ever, EVER even DREAM of buying another traditional photo album.

Until I had to fill out a baby book. But let's skip that.

Anyway.

So, I started on our first iPhoto album this week, and 2004 was first in line. And I found that it's just slightly off-putting, as an adult, to relive five-years-ago. Five years isn't all that long, right? Especially, now that I live in Southern California and every season is almost identical to the last, with slight variations of about ten or twenty degrees, so that if you catch me off-guard I'd very likely NOT be able to tell you what month it is. (See, even right now, I had to think about it. My first reaction was April, then I thought, no, it's almost fall. It must be October. Wait. Think. ummm....August! I'm not even kidding.) As you can see, asking me to identify time in increments of years is just an act of futility.

Sorting through 2004 feels a little like jet-lag, and that accompanying vague sense of displacement.

After the first shock of seeing myself with bangs and a waist, I got around to enjoying piecing together that year of our lives. It was the year before Jimmy and I were married, so we were still in that goofy madly-in-love fight-at-the-drop-of-a-hat what's-coming-next?? place in life. There we are, in pictures, having the best time at the LA Brewery art festival, swearing we'll come back every year, and not making it back since. There are just a handful of photos from our visits to Toronto and New York, because we had so much fun I forgot to take any until we were leaving. But I'd also about forgotten about the time we surprised my mom on a bridge in downtown St. Louis for her birthday, and how much fun it was to rent a limo and tour wine country with Jimmy's mom and her friends for her birthday. Oh, geez, and has it been that long since tasting that incredible port and chocolate? (I say it was incredible. Jimmy says I'd been drinking all day on winery tours and probably would have thought Zima was amazing by that point. I certainly hope you're duly offended on my part.)

I guess I just didn't expect to become nostalgic about 2004. Certainly not yet. Maybe not ever. But I'm having a good time piecing it all together. And I cannot WAIT to see the finished product. No tape, no glue, no prints falling out of the album. Just me, my cute boyfriend, and my bangs.



All good things.

Friday, August 7, 2009

for me, for my family

This photo of Jimmy and Lena might be my favorite from our summer this year. It was taken on the Cayucos pier on the Fourth of July, right after the annual small-town parade and just before a damn-near perfect afternoon on the beach. And in addition to reminding me of one of the best weekends we've ever had together, both as a couple and as a family, it's also a great depiction of the joy that the two of them are both capable of exuding at any given moment, multiplied exponentially when they're together. Here's Jimmy giving Lena the "one, two, three!" pretend toss over the side of the pier, and I can still hear her giggling and squealing in one long, uncontrollable, ridiculously adorable peal.

This is why I wanted to have children with Jimmy. Just look at the two of them. How is that not bliss?


Today is the third morning of preschool for Lena, and the end of the first full week back at work for Jimmy. After such a luxurious summer with the two of them at home, I'm still adjusting to the quiet house, and the time alone. Although I know I'm crazy lucky to have this time to myself right now, it's taking a little getting used to. It's been so easy for me, the past two years, to spend my free time caught up in making sure the house is in order and that we have enough paper towels and milk to get through the week, and I'm not entirely sure I remember how to do the things I like to do. In the time since I left work to be a mom, I've lost track of my girlfriends, my social skills, and my hobbies. Oh, and my waist. Where the hell did that thing go? But maybe you can imagine, without these things, how a sudden shift to fifteen hours a week of uninterrupted, unscheduled TIME might be overwhelming.

Or not. I've been called crazy before.


So. I'm counting this week as my transition period, and next week I plan to begin some projects of my own, just for me, in an effort to try to locate some pieces of me that appear to have gone missing.

My to-do list:
  • write
  • listen to music
  • read
  • draw
  • check in with old friends
  • run
Maybe you'll think I'm making too big a deal of this, but it's important to me in more ways than one. I want my daughter to have a mother who's comfortable in her own skin, who is accomplished and interesting and most of all, happy. I don't want her to look back when she's older and say, "We always had milk in the house, and never ran out of toilet paper." And Jimmy certainly deserves the same in a wife.

Wish me luck.

Monday, August 3, 2009

first day

Maybe this won't be any sort of earth-shattering news to you, but for me it's a different story: I am typing this post from home. Alone.

Lena started preschool today. We signed her up for the least amount of time possible - just three mornings a week. And honest-to-goodness the reason we did it was because she seemed to really need it. I know, I know, she's not even two, yet. But last week she learned to count to TWELVE, and is currently practicing that pesky ol' "13." She's also very into letters, telling us the other day that the letters on the stop sign were "P, S, O, T!"

My head, I catch it exploding every twenty minutes or so around this kid. (We'll worry about dyslexia later.)

As you can imagine, we're so excited to see her so eager to learn, and sopping up every bit of information she can get her hands on, but we're already having a hard time keeping up. Because man, oh man, she is excited about these things ALL DAY LONG. And it's clear to us that she's ready for a level of socialization that we just can't provide at home. I mean, Elmo, Abby, Dora, & Boots have all be excellent best friends, but every once in a while mommy would like to catch up with her friends, Ellen, Jon, and Don Draper.

Ha. That was a joke. Mostly.

So, after a week of anxiety dreams on my part, the first day of preschool finally arrived this morning. I left as Lena stuck her little hands into a giant lump of playdough for the first time, happy as can be, and came home to a very quiet, very empty house.

Oh, hello, time to myself.


We believe, all around, that this will be a good transition. And I believe that I will be the only one who has some uneasiness with the change. But here I am, sitting at a desk that has been cleared off and made ready for any number of possibilities, a little music playing for some inspiration, or maybe rather for courage...

I'm excited for all of us.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Jimmy is on hiatus - has been for three weeks, now - and we are still adjusting to new rhythms around here. Every new day feels like a lazy Saturday morning; get the baby set up with a new diaper, a bottle, some Sesame Street, and crawl back into bed for another hour or two of warm bodies and sleepy cats in the pale yellow morning light. Nothing wrong with that.

He makes the coffee in the mornings, now, and I feel completely spoiled. We've dotted all the days on our calendar with small appointments - lessons, dentists, doctors, community events, lunches with friends, places to be. He finally has the time, and I finally have a second pair of hands.

The swimming lessons are the best so far. Twice a week at the YMCA, Lena gets to jump into the pool with daddy while I watch alongside with my coffee and camera. You would be hard pressed to make me a happier girl. Next week we will ride our bikes there along the river not-wholly-unenjoyable drainage ditch. (It's LA, people.) I can't wait.


Oh, and I have a gorgeous new bike. Photo to come.


I wanted to write, too, about how tricky it is to be on hiatus. No schedule, no routine, and no paycheck can be a tough gear to switch into. But right this moment it only feels perfectly lovely.



Happy Friday.

Monday, March 30, 2009

We had such a nice weekend. At least, I did. That is, I had such a nice weekend after my small Saturday afternoon anxiety attack over toddler bathing suits in the middle of Old Navy and Jimmy had to cart us all home just so he could kick me out of the house for the rest of the day. Alone. With no toddler attached. And no ginormous diaper bag. Or any need for a stroller.

And then oh my gosh did the weekend improve.

In my defense, we hit Old Navy after a morning 2-year-old's birthday party at a big playground. And it was unseasonably hot, during Lena's naptime, and did I mention full of toddlers? Lena refused to eat, or drink, or sit for one second unless that second included throwing everything on her plate and her neighbor's plate into the grass, or jamming her fork into a pb&j triangle and waving it around in hopes of flinging it directly into a grown-up's face. And for some reason I think I'm going to be using this brand of excuse for the next three years.

Getting out was nice.

Getting out was very nice, even though I had no idea what to do.

(The mall seemed like a safe bet.)

But standing in the middle of all that marble and chrome and glass, trying to navigate globs of preteens without a stroller in front of me, no arsenal of sippies, bottles, crackers, diapers, and wipes at hand, being able to look at a rack of clothes without worrying that someone was simultaneously trying to yank the tshirts off the shelving behind me or throw a bottle at the nearest stranger or wriggle out the bottom of her stroller (only to get her head stuck under the snack tray, because YES it has happened before and IN THE APPLE STORE)... It just didn't feel right.

So there I was, feeling like I was shopping COMPLETELY NAKED and that everyone was staring at me and wondering why I was there without my third (very cute but very active) arm and I had to check my purse to make sure everything I needed was in it, like, eight times because it felt so freaking LIGHT, and what did I accomplish? I bought the baby a dress, I bought the baby a pair of tennies, and I bought the baby a book.

This is what my "me time" is like, now. And I came home sooner than I needed to, too, because my arms felt so completely, utterly empty.

Can you blame me?

Friday, March 27, 2009

Good golly, two days in a row. You'd think I was back on my meds. Oh, wait...

Yesterday I made a comment about how I've been reading dooce, and I thought I should clarify by letting you know that I've been more specifically reading Heather Armstrong's new book, It Sucked and then I Cried. I bought it on pre-order through Amazon, it arrived at my door on Tuesday, and while it is an utter embarrassment to me to admit that I have not finished a book NOT written by Sandra Boynton since I had the baby (who is now very much a TODDLER), today is Friday and the only reason I haven't finished this one is because I very pointedly saved the last three chapters as a Friday treat.

(And Wednesday was a wash, being that it was Jimmy's birthday and we were busy delivering cupcakes all day. Yes, ALL DAY. Oh, delicious cupcakes!)

I suppose it goes without saying, then, that I really am enjoying this book. She hits so many notes that I can relate to, not the least of which are the isolation of being a new mommy and dealing with depression, but also isn't afraid to talk about life with baby in an honest, irreverent, and funny manner without neglecting to point out the sweeter moments that make your heart want to bust wide open.

I know, I know. It's dooce, so I'm not telling you anything you don't know, here. But the book has been particularly encouraging to me this week, enough so that I've redoubled my efforts to stay medicated, which for me has been extremely difficult given that I've chosen an herbal route that leaves me taking no less than thirty and sometimes upwards of fifty pills a day. And I am TERRIBLE with keeping up with it. But it is what it is, for now, and I'm feeling better these days, and plan on feeling good for some time.


Alright. It's so warm and gorgeous outside, and Lena keeps trying to throw sidewalk chalk onto my MacBook, so... happy weekend, everybody!

Thursday, March 26, 2009


Every day something new occurs to me that I think I could maybe write about here, but if it doesn't happen right away, it sort of rolls around in my head and eventually piles up in a corner with all the other little silly unimportant thoughts, until there's such a mess of them that I couldn't possibly write about any of them. Disjointed thoughts look so pointless and un-amusing to me when traveling in packs. Sort of like clowns.

(That's a bad description, because I so rarely find even lone clowns amusing. French clowns are a different story, though. Perhaps if my thoughts were in French...)

Not too long ago I mentioned wiping out all the archives of this site and starting fresh, the main reason for that being that I was tired of keeping my blog a secret from people I know, because doing so was so not worth the effort especially for such Morrissey-esque moping that seemed to sum up most of the writing, but not feeling like going back and making sure every post was kosher for my friends and family, not to mention protecting my own warped sense of privacy, it was just easier to take it all down and start clean.

And it's all been good, especially given my postpartum proclivity towards staying home with the baby for days at a time, but recent events forcing me to socialize IN PERSON with living, breathing human beings who know me and my family and who OH MY GOD MIGHT READ MY BLOG has been a sort of weird experience.

The weirdness being all on my part, as far as I can tell. Although that's not saying much, as apparently in addition to becoming easily wigged out by socializing with people IN PERSON, I've also lost all ability to interact normally and within accepted etiquette parameters, despite my Southern heritage, and have developed a very keen ability to shove my foot entirely inside my mouth with an athletic finesse that would make Mary Lou Retton jealous. And I chose Mary Lou Retton BECAUSE I AM OLD.

(My apologies for all the caps - I've been reading dooce. It's like when I spend a lunch chatting with my aunt and uncle in Atlanta and walk away talking about how the kayatays over yonder kipt us frum kitchin enny deer. And that is not an insult, because they are proud of the way they talk. Yes, really.)

Anyway. The fact is that I need to write, and I'm too lazy to write in secret anymore, and socializing is difficult these days so the blog is a convenient (if not sometimes appalling) way to keep up with me, if you are so inclined. And so, I am trying to force myself to continue, because it's therapeutic for me, and Lord knows I need the therapy. I know this is where I should say, "Who doesn't?", but really. Who am I kidding?

And you see? I feel better already.

Thursday, February 26, 2009


When Jimmy and I got married the whole event was sort of rushed and thrown together for several rather complicated reasons, (no, I wasn't pregnant), and while the end result was beautiful and perfect for us, it was also all very, very minimal.

We did, however, thanks to my mom, have the most exquisite flowers: luscious cream roses and white freesia, and Jimmy wore freesia.

Now, growing up I learned to hate freesia as it appeared to be (along with vanilla) the scent of choice for all the girls who made my life hell. But I'd never seen the flower in person. Or smelled it in person. But after the perfection that was my wedding, I think it might possibly be my favorite flower.

Last week after all the rain we had here in Los Angeles, our bulbs came up. Only one bloomed (so far), and it was the loveliest freesia dripping with perfect purple blossoms. We enjoyed it's little promise of spring all morning until I suddenly looked up to see my daughter before me with the crushed and battered flowers in her proud hands.

I'm having a tough time with this transition into toddlerhood...

It really did almost bring me to (unreasonable) tears, but I brought the drooping buds into the house and floated them in the little crystal bowl my parents bought for me in Ireland.



They smelled delicious. My baby girl's hands smelled delicious.



And this morning that same little freesia had a new bloom waking in the morning sun, perfect and crisp and beckoning of spring...



...only to be mauled by the baby two hours later.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Getting up in the mornings has been an unusually difficult chore for me these past few weeks. I'd like to chalk it up to staying up late with Jimmy, as he's been putting in a lot of long hours lately, and I like to spend as much time as possible with him in the evening. But I'm sure a lack of exercise has something to add.

This is generally what I see when I do manage to stumble out of bed, navigate blindly around the living room coffee table, and hurdle the baby gate into the kitchen where my beloved coffeemaker awaits. The early sun casting shadows on the shut curtains is a sight so lovely that I appreciate it every time, even through the half-blind pillow-creased stupor that is my morning.


Thursday, January 22, 2009

dammit. i think i'm getting sick again.

Yesterday was my birthday. Usually I really enjoy the prospect of a day with cake, flowers, presents, and maybe a dinner out. (Did I mention cake?) But this year I had a hard time gearing up for it, probably because I've spent most of the last year indoors, alone with the baby. While that is a blessing, a gift, and just generally a highly rewarding way to spend one's time, it can also be....oh yeah. Incredibly isolating. Daily. Weekly. And, well, who really spends their childhood looking forward to turning 31? Anyone? That's what I thought.

It was a good year, in spite of flying by in a blur. Looking back, I accomplished more than just changing way too many diapers:




- entered my thirties, and survived
- drove halfway across the country with an infant, and survived
- began blogging (again)
- became the mother of a toddler!
- flew halfway across the country, ALONE, with my TODDLER in my lap, and survived!
- began drawing (again)
- was diagnosed with depression
- (survived)
- made a birthday crown & banner, decorated Lena's first Christmas stocking
- celebrated my baby girl's first birthday
- cleared off all our credit debt (!!)
- fell in love with my (magical) new MacBook
- voted for hope and change
- saw history made in our government, and our nation
- began planning a new business (and a new life)

All in all, I'm certainly in a better place now than I was last year. What more can I ask for?

Yes, cake. You're absolutely right.


and my birthday was lovely, thank you.
i woke up at a gray 5:45 this morning thinking about a new header. like it? so much better, i think... worth the missing sleep? perhaps.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

We've been sick, and I'm desperately overdue for posting around here, but I did want to make sure to say that today was one of the most exciting, memorable, and moving days of my life. Sure, it was just me and the baby inside all day, in our pajamas, me buzzed out on Dayquil, following midget around with handfuls of tissues and lotion... but, well, WOW. We are so proud, America.


Thursday, January 8, 2009

ooooh....mommy needs a day out! look at this.


edited to show the beautiful pics here!

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

So, Jimmy said something to me the other day which I KNOW he wholeheartedly intended as a compliment, but has had my mind stuck in a hamster wheel of introspection ever since. It was something along the lines of, "You're doing a great job with the blog, honey. And once you have something important to talk about, you'll be all practiced up for it!"

(cue his annoyed eye-rolling as he reads this....now.)

My response was something like, "What, my sheer panic at the thought of existing without a television isn't important enough for you??" Because I take even trace amounts of criticism very very well.

The truth is, I have so many hopes and goals and aspirations for this new year, but it has gotten off to such a sleepy start. And I don't think I'm the only one. An article in the LA Times yesterday mentioned how all of Los Angeles woke to 2009 under two or three days of thick blankety fog. Today is the first day that I feel even remotely coherent. I hope it's the new year's way of giving us a gentle introduction to a good, satisfying, but perhaps difficult year.

(In our Christmas letter this year, I mentioned how we hope to find ourselves in a better, stronger place in 2010. Several people teased me about the typo, but it was no mistake. I never expected to wake up on New Year's Day to a better tomorrow. I do expect to try to build one in the months ahead, though.)

And so, even under a fog, I'm slowly working on those goals. I've already ransacked half of the house in an effort to pare down and simplify. Today it's all about bills and scheduling appointments and thank-you notes. The rest of the week is slated for some intense work on our current project. Along with these things I'm already making a successful effort to focus on preparing food, which is usually such a failing of mine. They all feel like improvement by inches, but improvement all the same.

Oh, and I decided today that I want a terrarium. The perfect way to include some green in a house infested with two Arkham-cats and one very active toddler. Yes?


I think that's all I can manage by way of "importance" today, honey.

(cue my adorable-but-devious grin....now.)

Monday, January 5, 2009

We were miraculously granted a (nearly) full night's sleep last night, meaning a night almost completely devoid of insomniac babies and neurotic cat yowling. But as it turns out, Jimmy just couldn't sleep at all, regardless, and even though I did sleep, I still feel like the walking dead today.

Holiday recovery appears to be a much more arduous task when children are involved. Add this to the list of things NOT included in the baby manual. This, exploding poop, and the fact that your child WILL learn to remove her own diaper when you least expect it.

At any rate, we're still a very sleepy household today. Right now Lena is mercifully taking her morning nap, I just woke up from a nap myself, the cats are curled in naps on our bed, Jimmy's off to work, and the house is dark and quiet. With no television, the house feels empty and still. All I can hear is the regular breathing traffic outside and the local classical station broadcasting through every baby monitor in the house.

This is what our world looks like right now:























Sunday, January 4, 2009

It's Sunday, and today in our house Sunday means "five nights back at home and Lena STILL isn't back on a schedule", and we are exhausted. Jimmy goes back to work tomorrow for a particularly busy month or two as he'll be cutting the next episode himself, and I'm wondering if the three of us will all have dark circles under tired eyes for ever.

At least the sun has made an appearance today. As it's afternoon, now, and baby is finally napping quietly, it must be time to open up the house, turn on some music, wash my face, straighten up, and make the best of these last few hours of hiatus.


notes:
- we watched Persepolis last night, via Jimmy's Mac. beautiful, funny, smart, and heartbreaking; so good.
- as coming up with quippy titles is perhaps my least favorite part of blogging, i've decided to ditch them. if you really miss them, i invite you to title each post yourself in the comments section. it'll be sort of Gawker-ish, but less cool and more self-indulgent.
- i've committed to a week-long diet cleanse, beginning tomorrow. how very LA, i know. that said, if by around Thursday you begin reading posts about pretty pretty flowers and ceiling monkeys, do not be alarmed. all should be well by next Monday, when i'm sure i'll be celebrating my success with a medium-rare New York Strip, onion rings, and a double shot of Bulleit.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

unplugged

So, the tv thing... it's all been a little too difficult to deal with, considering it's, you know, a freaking tv.

We would like to have access to one. I had planned on getting a Wii Fit very soon for some cheap yoga action, Jimmy really is right in the middle of the Pacific theatre on some ultra-violent game I bought him for Christmas (apparently I had a lapse and expected a "violent war game" to be sort of like, GI Joe, not the opening of Saving Private Ryan), and I've finally got Persepolis arriving from Netflix today.

Oh, and Sesame Street. Sesame Street and Jack's Big Music Show: like instant Valium for the baby. How am I supposed to function without that??

But, oh, the money. And the New Year's Resolution. And all those silly posts I keep reading from ZenHabits. And the fact that I'm very nearly shaking from the DT's over even the idea of getting through a week alone with the baby. See how I said that? "Alone?" As though the television is real company.

We did some window shopping yesterday just to see what we were in for, and whether or not anyone still sells an old tube tv, and could we get one for like, $50? Geez, at this point shouldn't they be PAYING US to take one off their hands? Apparently not. And we did find the perfect flat screen for a whopping $200 off the regular price! All the geek specs, the right size for our omnipresent amoire ("the hulk", I like to call it), and fancy enough blacks for my tv-editor husband. I don't know about you, but I was ready to walk out the door with the thing. What? It's still $800? The bank account?? Shut up.

I think the thing to point out here, is that if we had bought it, I probably wouldn't be writing this post right now. I'd be sucking down my coffee to the tune of an eight-year-old Gilmore Girls rerun while trolling Facebook. Yes, I know, this is a catch-22 for you, but hey, what's one more blog post out there in the webisphere?


Here's to another day unplugged. Well....mostly. And I PROMISE the next post will be boob-tube free.

Friday, January 2, 2009

umm...is it too late to resolve to win the lottery?

Granted, it had thrown out a warning sign or two over the last few months, but I'm still finding it....a little strange....that after I (clearly drunkenly) resolved to watch less tv this year, our television up and gave up the ghost on New Year's Day. (Conveniently after the Rose Parade and one much-needed episode of Sesame Street.)

Now Jimmy and I are looking at each other with sort of bemused, conflicted expressions. After all, "less tv" is different from "NO tv, not even when you're sick, want to watch the inauguration, have brand new games for the Wii and NEED to conquer the Pacific theatre, or require an extra-self-indulgent girlie all-about-you evening involving Amelie and baking a big pan of yummy warm fudgy brownies. What? I resolved to eat better, too? That's just so not a nice thing to say.

Anyway. We would have preferred the cable had crapped out, instead, but the cable is tied into our rent, so I suppose that would have been fixed for us... Nope, the tv is gone. We do own two televisions, but mine is currently gathering dust four hours north of here in Jimmy's grandparents' spare room. Four hours, yes.

What to do? Have you looked at television prices these days??


I realize it's a silly problem to have. Something Dooce would call a first world problem, no doubt. And Jimmy and I both agree that some of our most productive years were when we each were completely broke and had no television at all. Now we're just sort of broke, with a goal to pay off my magical new MacBook Christmas present this month, so I think we're going to tough it out. At least, you know, for a couple of days...

I mean, have you SEEN television prices???

Thursday, January 1, 2009

hope for 2009

Of course, I had intended to sit down and write this post early in the morning, while that dreamy silvery fog was still clinging to the thickly quiet (clearly hungover) outside world, but instead it's nearly noon and we're all still in our jammies and rubbing our eyes and hoping this doesn't bode some sort of dull winking malaise for the new year. Because here in our little house we have big hopes for the new year.

What happened? Obviously, what always happens when you mix the following:

- New Year's Eve
- Beaujolais Nouveau
- Thai Take-Out from Tuk Tuk (featuring the Best Chicken Satay Ever, the elusive Spicy Beef Waterfall, and the Only Pad Thai I've Ever Eaten That Doesn't Smell Vaguely Of Feet)
- In Bruges
- A Husband with The Flu
- A Toddler still recovering from Two Weeks at Grandma & Grandpa's, Christmas, Jet Lag, The Tummy Flu, Sudden Lactose Intolerance, and The Firm Belief that Joe's O's are the only Edible Items on the Planet
- Two Cats So Completely Neurotic that They Just Returned from Eleven Days at an Elysian Cat Hotel where they spent the Entire Time Huddled in a Corner and Yowling. Loudly.
- Cheesecake
- A Leftover Reheated Cup of the Morning's Coffee
- Mamma Mia. oy.
- Champagne, Of Course
- Ryan Seacrest and Dick Clark. NO WAIT Carson Daly. NO WAIT the In Bruges Gag Reel. *gasp* That was close.


At any rate, it's nearly noon now, but not too late for 2009. (I hope.) I've always been a sucker for new year's resolutions, and I do tend to want to accomplish quite a lot in the year to come... but is it just me, or does 2009 feel particularly different to you, too? It feels more pivotal, more important, as though it's going to be a difficult year full of transition and change, but by the end of it we should all, hopefully, be much better off.

It's a feeling I can't shake. I'm excited and terrified all at the same time. And here it is - we're already on our way!


So here you go - my own hopes and plans for 2009:

- Get out of bed early in the mornings; go for a walk, maybe a run.
- Leave the television OFF during the day
- Pay attention to food; cook.
- Write voraciously
- Pare down; buy LESS; buy better.
- Read daily
- Work HARD on two projects - one of my own, and one that belongs to me and Jimmy.
- Reinstall music as a centerpoint in our lives
- Create with abandon
- Remember what's most important, really
- Help my baby girl Lena discover the best things available in life
- Make sure Jimmy knows exactly how much I love him


Happy New Year to You and Yours.
xo