Archive for the ‘Holidailies’ Category

I am not a fan of resolutions.  Too much pinky swearing I’ll follow through and three days later I’m smoking crack topless in an el Camino.  I’m kidding of course.  It’s way too cold to smoke crack topless. This hatred of resolutions in no way keeps me from making mini-promises to myself as the year draws to an end, even as I admit that they are more like ‘let this be the year that I…’ than ‘this year I’m going to…’

Without further ado, here is my list of things to work on this year:

  1. Eating less meat.  I love meat, I really do, but I got really lazy over the last year with the non-meat eating and I want to get back to once or twice a week.
  2. Getting into some semblance of shape.  And not like I usually do (last Thursday) with the working on every part of my body and waking up in agony.  Proper-like this time.
  3. Learning the bass.  I like playing around on it, and I want to keep doing it.  I need to not get frustrated when I can’t bust out like John Paul Jones, because really, I’m a 33 year old picking up an instrument for the first time since piano in junior high.
  4. Getting published.  I was doing well with the sending out there for a minute, and now I have a piece sitting around collecting dust.  Not good, Jen.  Send it out again and again and again, and if it doesn’t fit anywhere, write something new.
  5. Finishing the short story I started.  ‘Nuff said.
  6. Find a career path and pursue it.  Whether I stick with the doula idea or go back to the copyediting one, I need to do something.

And then there are the hard and fast, resolution-like deals which I hesitate to mention because I have this jinx-like mentality that makes me feel like I’m screwed as soon as I say them out loud.  The big one is quitting smoking.  I hate that I smoke so much that I haven’t mentioned it very much online.  C and I are quitting for the New Year, and this simply has to be done.  The last time I tried (outside of pregnancy), I had a major breakdown, and I’m really really scared.  The other one is easier, but not really any less important since a fair chunk of last year was pretty hard in my marriage.  I need to remember that C and I are on the same team, no matter how much little things get to me and frustrate me.  I really do love him and I am lucky to have him, even when we’re driving each other crazy.  This last will be especially important as the two of us are cranking up a storm with the quitting smoking, and if I start bitching excessively, I’ll need a bitchslap.

That, my friends, is that.  I wish all of y’all a wonderful end of ’06 and look forward to seeing you in ’07!

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Spent almost all day yesterday in bed with killer headache.  Like makes you puke headache.  Terrible stuff, that.  Am tentatively feeling my way around this morning and so far so good.  I don’t know what the hell that sick crap was, but I’d like to not repeat it again.  Lucy was an angel and ‘read’ me books while I rested and made me pretend soup and cocoa and gave me a stuffed animal to cuddle.  She’s quite a fine little caregiver.   Look, only 2 days til 2007!

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Still recovering from the Xmess hysteria, but making some real progress, finally.  After a mini-panic attack on Tuesday about the state of the apartment (which was actually because of a death in the family but it took me an hour to figure that out because I’m quick like that) I buckled down yesterday and at least got Lucy’s room under control.

Does anyone else have anxiety about the sheer amount of *stuff* they own?  I was boxing up Lucy’s old toys and trying to find a place to store them, and my closet made me want to cry, her closet made me want to cry, our storage closet made me want to cry…I don’t feel like we consume a ton of stuff, but our space tells me different.  Maybe it’s just the season.  I think today I’m going to take apart Lucy’s closet and get the old car seat and strollers out of the way and bag up some old coats and stuff from the hall closet.  We never even go in there so there must be stuff I can donate someplace.  I don’t know if it’s the approaching New Year or if I’ve just reached my peak tolerance for crap, but this stuff has to go.  I’m trying not to let it really get to me, but I’m tired of looking around the apartment and feeling totally overwhelmed.

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It’s been a couple of busy days, so let’s see where to start. Christmas Eve was the jaunt to the MIL’s with the Italian in-laws. Lots of food. Tons of food in fact, most of which is in our fridge since they were leaving on Christmas for Austria. Lucy got a Leapster and an American Girl doll with, among others, an ice skating outfit and teeny skates. As a former skater, this was a definite warm fuzzy. But, of course, not as warm and fuzzy as the alpaca scarf for me from C’s uncle who lives in Chile. Which was sweet, but not as sweet as the box of Godiva truffles from C’s other uncle and aunt. Lucy pulled in an I love Elmo outfit (which is actually cute despite my cringing at the red monster from hell) and an alpaca tam and worry doll pin, and nesting dolls.

We got home, threw Lucy into bed, and dollhouse contruction commenced while Python played in the background. Or foreground as the case may be. After a couple of beers, C and I decided to open our goodies from each other and his sister. I think he liked the Arsenal jacket I got him, and I definitely loved the Maleficent pajamas from my SIL, but the biggest hit by far was me brand…new…cherry…red…Left handed bass guitar! Oh it rocks. Hard. I’ve always wanted to learn bass, and playing around with C’s one night led us both to realize that I play left-handed, bringing the official list of things I do lefty to batting, golfing, jumping/spinning in skating, and playing bass. Go figure.

Yesterday. Lucy woke up at around 8, and urged me out into the living room because she was hungry. She parked at the coffee table and gave her breakfast order. C sat down next to the dollhouse and stocking while I got her food ready, and we both stared at her for a few minutes before I finally asked her if she wanted to see if Santa had come. Chaos ensued.

It was probably for the best that there was little time to play with everything because, while we thought we had kept things pretty light, the pile of kid stuff was incredible. We got dressed, assured Lucy that there would be plenty of time to play with everything, and then headed out to the FIL’s for a lasagne feast. Which was delicious, and yielded another ton of leftovers. Came home, cleaned up a bit, and then had the conference call gift opening with my family. Who are really hard to follow on speaker because everyone is constantly making smart-aleck comments and making everyone else laugh. It was good to hear everyone’s voices, though, and sort of sad to get off the phone after it was over. I go into mute mode on conference calls and so every ten minutes or so someone had to ask if I was still there 🙂

I was in bed by 10 and happy to be so. Today, I’m going to eat. And then eat some more. And then watch Arsenal, and eat some more. Anyone want to come over for leftovers? We have roast beast, ham, lasagne, truffles, green beans, broccoli, and countless other goodies!

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I posted Lucy’s birth story over on the About page so that folks don’t have to read it what don’t want to. It really got me thinking about birth and how important it was to me to have a midwife who was supportive and intuitive, able to be tough when needed and gentle when I needed hand-holding. The thing I appreciate most about our midwife, though, is that when I went in for my pap and she was delivering a baby, she specifically asked if I could wait for her to finish so that she could see me. It seems like a stupid little thing, or possibly an inconvenience, but it meant the world to me that, with all of the patients she sees and babies she delivers, she wanted to see how I was doing and how Lucy was doing. Before my exam, she pulled me into her office and asked about C and Lucy and how everything was going. Our talk lasted longer than the exam proper, and I left feeling more like I had visited with an old friend than gone to the doctor. That is how birth should go in my personal hippie-topia.

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I can’t leave comments on blogger, had a shitload of trouble logging in here, and don’t think I did anything to fuck it up (this time.)

But on to more important things.  I have finished my Xmas shopping.  Next up is wrapping and then unloading it on unsuspecting relatives.  Or something like that.  I’m still waiting for my holiday spirit to show up.

C accidentally leaned on my bicep with his pointy old elbow and my right hand has been vaguely numb all day.  And I think I might have run a marathon in my sleep last night so my legs are all jelly.

Worst of all, Bean seems to have developed a keen interest in Barney, the Bush dog.  He jumped off the couch when Barney came on the Daily Show and followed his every move.  We’ve always worried about Lucy ending up a Republican but never thought to worry about The Bean 😉

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I am now officially tired of giftmas.  After tromping around in the piss-rain for several hours, I have finished shopping for all but 2 of the people on our list, and they have Amazon lists.  I should have an amazing sense of accomplishment, but instead I just want the whole deal to be over.  I’m usually really into getting presents for people, but this year seems to lack the satisfaction.  I’ve gotten things that people should really like, have supported small stores and charities (for the most part,) and am not running out on Xmas Eve to finish up.  This should be a good thing.  Eh.  I’ll be better tomorrow, I’m sure.  Too much sweating in 900 degree stores will drain anyone, right?

I got some really cute stocking stuffers at the Museum of Natural History today, and presents for Lucy’s cousins.  More swag for the in-laws from the Child Health site, and then an all out corporate crap frenzy at Banana Republic and Sephora for my cousin so that he can return anything he doesn’t like since what I know about 25 year olds is nothing.  It was sort of disturbing to realize last night when my grandmother described him as a ‘metrosexual’ that I would need one of the Queer Eye guys to explain the phenomenon to me.  Why can’t he like sports jerseys or books or something easy?

In other news, I went to McCrap’s for dinner and am ready to shoot the Happy Meal toy.  Lucy loves it, though, and is dancing around to its stupid little song.   I’m going to take my foulness to the grocery store and hopefully I’ll be my normal cheerful self by the time I get back, and we all know my normal self is not particularly cheerful.  Whine, bitch, moan and all that rot.

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