why i'm a crazy hip blog mama

crazy. no problem. certifiable. a long torrid history of therapy, medication, and even a couple weeks in the hut (nut hut, that is. i can say that. i’ve been there.). i’ve been off medication going on ten years, and i think my last counselor is dead. (she’d be 82. i hope at least she finally retired!) pregnancy and motherhood are terrific excuses for off behavior, don’t you think?

hip. this one’s a stretch. i was born without the shopping gene. my favorite store is Target. i rarely buy anything for myself that is not on sale or without a coupon. the last time i bought something full price was in 2001 (a suit for a project interview). my husband, el Jefe’, buys the majority of my clothes (he has good taste if that means anything). i admit to being thrifty and frugal (ok, cheap), but if anything i strive for my style to be classic. and my maternity clothes are the trendiest items in my wardrobe!

blog. here it is. although it was born only Labor Day this year, it has become a part of my life. and i pride myself in posting more frequently than the so-called professionals who blog for income. a new custom blog design from the wonderful and talented ladies at Ciao My Bella would be my equivalent to a day at the spa. (ok, i’ve never been. ever. but i think the appropriate analogy is that maybe no one else will notice, but it sure would make me feel good!)

mama. Punkin turns two next month, and Peanut is at 18 weeks gestation. i’m 41, and i never thought i’d be a mom until two positive pee tests, a fetal heartbeat, an ultrasound, and hearing positive amnio results over two years ago. Punkin wasn’t planned, but honestly we didn’t think he was possible. i don’t need to tell you he changed my life.

and they were kind enough to include me on their blogroll.

gee thanks, gen y

the last two hours of my paying job work day were busy. why is that? i ended up working through my lunch hour, convincing myself that i would leave early so i would have time to go to Target before i go swim, before i go home. a good portion of my day was filled with stupid questions, and i made it my responsibility to provide answers to those stupid questions. i used to say “there’s no such thing as a stupid question” until i’ve come across a generation of individuals who ask stupid questions because they are too lazy to research the question before they ask. it’s a sure-fire way to push my hot button and apparently it’s easier to be spoon-fed the information.

Punkin isn’t even two years old, and he would rather do it himself.

just like his mom.

my post. where's yours?

i’m really disappointed in the blogging community. most of the sites i regularly (and it’s not many) have been very lax in posting during the holidays. i’m disappointed because some of these folks are professionals, and they maintain a blog as a full-time job (or for income). here i am feeling guilty for missing posts, and my site has not generated one thin dime. sure, i’m jealous. especially when my mother-in-law, a voracious reader, says i should consider a career in writing. this is in addition to my father-in-law’s constant accolades regarding my letters. not only does he run a local newspaper, but his views are unbiased by my mother-in-law as they have been divorced for well over 25 years.

here’s the story of Punkin and Santa Claus i promised. and apparently, it’s free:

nearly every day last week, Punkin asked about Nonna, Paw Paw, and Gabbie (my parents and their dog). i told him he would get to see them this weekend, and Santa Claus, too. to which he replied, “No Santa Claus, No.” since he kept wanting to see his grandparents and their dog, i kept throwing in Santa, too, in hopes the association would be positive. we also read “The Night Before Christmas” every night. by the end of the week, Santa didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

we pushed to get out of the house Saturday morning at a reasonable hour. i suggested we check out the line for pictures with Santa Claus at the mall first; el Jefe’ still had shopping to do, and at least one of us could wait in line and tag team. we arrived before 9:30 am and entered a relatively long queue. i excused myself to go find a bathroom, walked the entire length of the mall, and even snuck in to check out a selection of Christmas CD’s. when i returned, Punkin and el Jefe’ had moved very little, and el Jefe’ informed me the approximate wait would be an hour and a half. we had Holiday Hell stuff to do, so we bailed.

we planned Christmas Eve morning around this whole picture with Santa Claus thing. We put Punkin to bed promptly at 8:00 pm the night before so he would get enough sleep in time to rise at 6:30 am. we decided to forego pancakes over cereal so we could get out of the house sooner. the mall opened at 7:00 am, and Santa was to arrive at 8:00 am. we arrived within minutes of 8:00 am and got in line. for nearly an hour. as we approached the front of the line, Punkin wanted el Jefe’ to pick him up. he wanted his woobie. and he held on with a death grip. odd, because he normally is too friendly with strangers. once he was placed on Santa’s lap, he bawled. loudly. the photographer gave it a couple seconds and opted for the “Peek-a-Boo” photo. this is where Santa hides behind his chair, while the photographer distracts the hysterical child. then the former hysterical child sits on Mommy’s or Daddy’s lap and Santa peeks out from behind the chair. El Jefe’ sat with the Punkin, in his clashing plaid shirt and holey jeans (neither of us were prepared to be photographed by any means, but at least he wasn’t wearing brown stripes!) and the result is the most wonderful picture of Santa behind the two guys i love the most.

he’s still talking (positively) about Santa Claus. Punkin, that is.

my version of winning the lottery

Punkin survived his picture with Santa Claus Christmas Eve. (worthy of a post and photo, when i have more time).

my dad spilled the beans to my mom about the Peanut. the third degree was relatively harmless. yes, they would like a granddaughter, but they also are happy the Punkin won’t be an only child.

i had an awesome Christmas. Punkin tolerated roughly two hours of opening gifts and seemed to enjoy each and every one (even the clothes)! El Jefe’ was surprised and impressed with my electronics selection.

i cooked all day yesterday, except during gift opening and an hour off my feet. Whereas we had Christmas Eve dinner at my parents’ home, they came over to ours for Christmas Day (rather, Night) dinner. i will never be able to have a turkey ready before 5:00 pm … i started cooking at 5:00 am, and we didn’t sit down to eat before 6:00 pm, and my feet are definitely telling there was no rest for the weary! while i won't get an A for presentation, everything was tasty.

i got a very good phone call this afternoon. all the results of the amnio are good.

i’m not used to things going my way, or at least seeming to.

Happy Holidays

i complain a lot about Holiday Hell. i've all ready admitted my issues are self-induced and self-inflicted (who in their right mind would go to Wal-Mart the Friday afternoon before Christmas for the sole purpose of getting diapers [necessity] and stocking stuffers [junk]?!?)

i continue to go out and shop, not for the diapers, but for the trinkets ... i keep coming up with that must-have, illusive, one-more-thing that subjects me to crowds, and lines, and melting kids, and stressed-out adults. today it is a pair of footie pajamas for the Punkin and thank-you note cards. maybe i'm addicted. maybe i've got my priorities straight. but this photo, to me, is what the Holidays are all about. i'm thankful i have el Jefe' and Punkin after all these years to show me that Holiday Hell is worth it.

it could be worse

el Jefe’ has one of those sweet government jobs when the end of the year means “use it or lose it”. actually, his job is not sweet nor cushy, and he works most of the extra holidays that government employees get (like Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, and Veteran’s Day). and he works overtime (members of his crew work both shifts). and he routinely works on the weekend. if you understand the system, he has holiday time, overtime, comp time, and vacation time … and with his Midwestern work ethic, he cannot take off that much time away from work.

last night, el Jefe’ told me he had one more day to burn this year. whereas he’s been taking some Mondays in the past two months, he chose today so he could do some Holiday Hell shopping. did you read between the lines? MY HUSBAND STARTED CHRISTMAS SHOPPING TODAY. December 22nd. oh, and he needed to do a couple things at work, so he went into work until noon today. he didn’t start until the AFTERNOON of December 22nd.

i’m done. mentally, physically, financially … i’ve had it. it’s just good enough. i keep coming up with last minute trinket ideas, but i’ve all ready approached the wrapping phase. it took me twenty minutes to wrap two shirt boxes this morning and that depressed me. and i have to go to Wal-Mart to get the Punkin overnight diapers … and maybe something for the stockings, and something for the incontinent dog … and I have to exchange something for el Jefe’ because i bought the wrong size … and it all is mildly frustrating and depressing and overwhelming.

at least i didn’t start my Holiday Hell shopping today.

winter whinings

i’m a little depressed, but i shouldn’t be.
i’m accomplishing things at work (a completely relative term this time of year).
i’m crossing things off my Holiday Hell to do list (slowly, and perhaps belatedly, but they are getting done).
i picked out a receiver for el Jefe’ (just need visual verification before purchase).
the Peanut is the right size per schedule and very active.
my blood pressure is good at 107 over 70.

but i gained six pounds in the last month (154, woo hoo). and i’m showing. and i’m wearing a new pair of maternity pants that are too big and too long, even though i also bought a pair of boots (with heels!). i’m just feeling unattractive (and sorry for myself).

continuing holiday hell

i’ve mentioned i was born without the shopping gene. and i’ve admitted to being technologically challenged. so why would i even attempt to buy el Jefe’ electronics for Christmas? because i am insane and obviously a glutton for punishment.

most things in our household are hand-me-downs or divorce-wear. we’d like our home to look like a pottery barn catalogue, and lately el Jefe’ has been pining for a flat screen tv just because he sees them wherever he goes. we have a very nice tv that i purchased for his 40th birthday. i made him accompany me so i would buy what he wanted. we ended up with a 36” Sony, and that was five years ago. i have replaced a VCR and purchased a DVD player (with a little coaching). i even replaced a pair of speakers all by my lonesome. i replaced the speakers in an attempt to improve the sound quality and it turns out the speakers weren’t the problem.

so now i need to replace the amp and pre-amp that el Jefe’ purchased in Okinawa in the 80’s. i’m talking to my coach, but i know i’m so in over my head.

the hell continues … and yes, i know it is self-induced.

blissfully writing checks

my dad asked if i was pregnant on Sunday. i could not lie. i told him i did not want anyone to know. apparently, he is astute and happy about the situation. i also told the Middle when we were in the garage depositing hand-me-downs. again, a positive response.

i had an amnio yesterday. Peanut kept grabbing at the needle (or so it appeared on the ultrasound). El Jefe’ and i like my prenatal doctor (a woman! a first for me!)

the worst of it all … the Center collected my deductible for 2006. i have another appointment in two weeks, which means they will collect my deductible for 2007. it’s just money, and it’s worth it, but why do they all want the money up front?

self-induced

it has been a rough week.

the majority of the time expended, and stress endure, has been work related.

Holiday Hell continues. the Middle may visit this weekend with my twin nephews. of course we are not ready.

and we may have the discussion of a celebration for my parents' upcoming 50th wedding anniversary in September 2007. yes, it is many months off, but so is my due date of June 2007 (and i haven't told a soul about the conception of the Peanut, not family, not friends, nor even coworkers). i'm waiting for results of the amnio; the test happens to be this Monday. (just add a pinch more of stress and stir ...)

a real beer (and then some) would be the perfect cap of this week. maybe i'll settle for a smoothie instead.

the most wonderful time of the year?

i have too much to do at work (my paying job outside the home).
i am behind on my weekly, regularly scheduled chores at home (vacation, and a weekend out of town have left me perpetually behind schedule).
i still have Holiday Hell shopping to accomplish, even the “time-sensitive” got to mail those gifts out of town variety.
i have yet to draft the second annual Holiday letter.
i am cranky.

where's Elmo?

a couple weeks ago, el Jefe’ and i discussed what we were getting the Punkin for Christmas. we agree that all ready, in the less than two years Punkin has graced this planet, he has too many toys. it’s not that we run out and buy the latest and greatest advertised toy, or Punkin begs and pleads and says he has to have it. by far, the majority of his toys were gifts from others, or hand-me-downs from my twin nephews.

we don’t allow Punkin to watch tv, and may not for another year.

i was born without the shopping gene.

my internet skills are limited.

so, using your deductive powers of reasoning, you can see this is a challenge for me.

early this fall, i had Punkin in the stroller with me at JC Penney. i had a coupon(!), there was a sale(!), and he needed some clothes in the next size. OK. that’s a lie. i bought him both 24-month and 2T clothes because i honestly couldn’t figure out the difference (except the 2T’s were a smidge bigger and a dollar more expensive). as we passed the pajamas, i heard Punkin exclaim, “Eh-mo!”. (Elmo). i couldn’t figure out what he was talking about until i looked from his perspective (basically on my knees in the store). there were the licensed character pajamas, and there was Elmo. i thought it was a fluke, until we went past the licensed character sweatshirts, and there he was again, and Punkin exclaimed “Eh-mo!” my kid knows who Elmo is without ever watching Sesame Street, or tv whatsoever, and certainly no commercials.

a couple months later, we went to a family-friendly restaurant for dinner, and they featured a woman who created balloon animals. Punkin ended up with an Elmo balloon animal, which he caressed literally for weeks. (i think the eyes and nose still exist.)

so he’s getting an Elmo for Christmas. el Jefe’ and i agreed upon a plush, boring, non-electronic Elmo. no TMX Elmo. no Sing n’ Hum Elmo. no Elmo Loves You plush doll. just an Elmo without batteries. come to find out, this Elmo is special. this Elmo does not exist at Target. this Elmo does not exist at Toys R’ Us. this Elmo was available at Macy’s on-line, so i went to Macy’s over lunch even though i didn’t think they had a toy department. and they really don’t. so i called another local Macy’s and verified that no, they don’t have a toy department, either. so i tried Macy’s on-line. good news: plush Elmo was on sale! Bad news: plush Elmo was guaranteed to ship by January 18th, 2007. ha! not only after Christmas, but also after Punkin’s 2nd birthday!

Amazon.com came through. i found an unused plush Elmo, on sale, with $2.95 shipping, that basically was guaranteed to arrive before Christmas. worse came to worse, before Punkin’s January birthday. i ordered it last week, it shipped the next day, and it arrived this weekend.

and 12” plush Elmo arrived in a 6” box. i was frustrated. and i was pissed. until i opened the box and discovered Elmo was bound and folded at the waist (bondage Elmo?). el Jefe’ is certain he’ll love it. i just hope i get better at this.

one small step

Punkin pooped in his potty last night!

we're gonna go through this together

El Jefe’ and i had a rare, civilized, adult conversation last night. it’s not that we argue and are constantly down eachother’s throats. it seems as though we are very busy trying to maintain our careers, our Midwestern work ethics, a functioning household (nothing even remotely related to a well-oiled machine), prepare for the season of Holiday Hell with our extended families, and raise an ever-growing, ever-changing, ever-developing toddler. our needs as husband and wife, and our marriage, most often take a back seat. way back seat. back of the trailer, just millimeters in front of the license plate back seat.

Punkin has had a baby sitter something like three times in his life (last year’s company Holiday party, our anniversary, and a wedding in May. i think that’s it.). each time, his Godmother came over for the evening. we don’t know any teenagers in the neighborhood, and frankly i don’t trust my parents, and besides, he spends five days a week around nine hours a day in daycare. so there’s some guilt, some laziness, and some lack of trust. don’t get me wrong … we both enjoyed a meal where we didn’t have to cut everything up, make sure the temperature bordered on cold, didn’t inhale our food to have a free hand to catch tossed utensils and launched green beans, and have an adult conversation. we’d like to go to the movies one evening so we can actually watch a movie from end to end. but somehow it is not a priority, and it is ok with both of us.

we talked about his potential for promotion. we talked about moving. we talked about my job. we talked about what we would miss about where we have spent the past ten years. i told him i wanted to deliver the Peanut here, and he was adamant that i should not have to change doctors again.

it is no wonder i love this man. we’re on the same page.

torn like an old sweater

i’ve spent the day spinning my wheels, or so it seems. i’ve accomplished several tasks, but it’s one of those days where i have very little to show for it. scheduling, meetings, conference calls, and reviews filled my work day, yet there is no tangible product. kind of like parenting, i guess … you change diapers, feed your kid, dress your kid, entertain your kid, educate your kid, lather, rinse, repeat … and often there is very little to show for it. there is no clean (or dirty) quotient, most of us don’t weigh our kids on a daily basis, i’m not aware of points for style, and you can’t measure the leap in IQ daily. (maybe you can, but jeez, talk about obsessive!) but one smile makes it all worthwhile (parenting, that is).

sorry, but one job beats the other hands down in terms of reward.

i just can't imagine my life as a stay-at-home mom.

welcome back

i haven’t posted in eleven days, yet i feel as though i have so little to say. our vacation was very good, and worthy of several posts, but i just don’t have it in me right now, or can’t get it out of me right now. we returned early Friday morning and were shocked by a 40 degree dip in temperatures. we spent the weekend doing laundry, running errands, commencing the Holiday Shopping Hell, and preparing and sharing a belated Thanksgiving dinner with my parents.

really, all is well, yet the enthusiasm just isn’t there. historically, i always have trouble with the Holidays in the emotional department. i used to attribute it to Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) until i moved to an area that experiences something like 360 days of sunshine and i still fall into a funk. i’m losing sleep over the second annual Holiday letter. Punkin fell in love with Christmas lights on vacation (“coo-coo-lights”!) yet it looks like it’ll be another week or two before we get ours put up due to family commitments. Punkin turns two in January, and el Jefe’ constantly attributes his minor tantrums and tears to his age. Punkin lost it after an hour and a half in Target (who wouldn’t?!?) and after an inordinate amount of time in front of non-entertaining bookshelves at Borders. i agree that one can always find a meaningful gift at either establishment IF one has a remote clue as to what category the gift falls into. something just a bit more specific than “something from Target” or “a book” … animal, vegetable, or mineral? housewares? educational toy?

so am i complaining about el Jefe’? or family obligations? or is it just that time of year?

mellowed by good news

sometimes those windows of opportunity are so small. i was faced with one today that was so narrow i couldn’t squeeze my ever-expanding 148 lb frame through it.

i saw my ob-gyn today for my 12-week appointment. i was happy that i only gained one pound in nearly three weeks, so my rate of expansion is not too outrageous. and my blood pressure was good at 115/71. and the fact that i’ve made it to 12 weeks was a relief in itself.

we discussed genetic testing. having been through it before, and experiencing amniocentesis during my pregnancy with the Punkin, i thought i knew what to expect. (and i’ve read most of the series …) my doctor suggested a first trimester test with nearly identical accuracy, without the invasiveness and risks of an amniocentesis. any sign me up! unfortunately, we leave for vacation tonight and don’t return for eight days. they tried to schedule me for aforementioned first trimester test, but i was told i’ll be “too far along” by the time we return. oh well.

the amnio is scheduled. my 16-week appointment is scheduled. i paid my initial installment of my ob care and delivery payment plan. and el Jefe’ and i got to see the Peanut kick and wave. and i'm almost on vacation.

Happy Thanksgiving. see you in December!

could this be spam?

i received this in an e-mail today:

Your flight #17 on November 23, departing Las Vegas at 2:45 am and arriving in Honolulu at 6:45 am has been changed.You are now confirmed on flight #17 on November 23, now departing Las Vegas at 1:00 am and arriving in Honolulu at 5:00 am.

the departure time (and coincidentally the arrival time) of the flight we are taking Thanksgiving morning has changed by 1:45. nearly two hours. earlier. damn good thing i was around to get my e-mail. el Jefe’ and i arrived at the airport once prior to the arrival (not departure) time of a flight … ooops, we both misread the itinerary. we didn’t care. we were on vacation, whether we were on an airplane, or sitting in the airport bar, or relaxing in a condo didn’t matter. we ended up getting a later flight, and then the rental car counter was closed, so we took a shuttle to the nearest hotel, rented a hot tub suite, and started our vacation as planned, just a day late. somehow, traveling with the Punkin, i just can’t fathom the same reaction.

i’ll be anal and call and confirm the time change with a real live person. wish me luck.

erin go bleccchh

What food(s) do you love that other people think you are crazy for eating?



this is such a difficult topic. first off, i’m twelve-weeks pregnant. in between periodic gagging and perpetual nausea, my cravings change every couple of days. nothing exotic; nothing like the proverbial pickles and ice cream. the latest craving was cottage cheese, which el Jefe’ thinks i’m crazy for eating, but i don’t think that counts. it’s so mainstream …

then, although i’m new to the whole blogging thing, several pros (who actually make money off their blogs?!?) have plugged Maggie’s book “No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog”. i broke the rule in this post, but maybe it didn’t count because i described dinner from the hotel gift shop, not lunch. anyway, i am struggling to ignore the voices in my head: “it’s an assignment – stretch your wings!” and “you're doing it wrong!”

my early gastronomic experiences were of course shaped by my parents. my mom grew up on a farm in southern Indiana. her cooking tends toward the bland side, a side effect from an Irish background. i can say that thanks to my mom, i can stuff a mean turkey and can stomach the giblets. i like the gizzard and the heart, but it is tolerance and preference (gizzard beats liver) and nothing close to LOVE. my dad is a “meat and potatoes” kind of guy and my mom catered to his wishes. i think he ate a Quarter-pounder with cheese, fries, and an orange drink five days a week, nearly fifty weeks a year, for over a decade. could this be a clue where my OCD tendencies come from?

when you combine the aforementioned genetic traits with a third fact, it equates to my least favorite meal. i was born on St. Patrick’s Day. while most kids dream of picking their birthday meal, (pizza! hamburgers! spaghetti!) allowing that cookies and ice cream are not acceptable main courses, my wishes were ignored for sake of heritage and tradition. until my first year of college, i was subjected to corned beef and cabbage at nearly every birthday dinner. stringy, fatty beef; stinky, slimy cabbage; and fortunately, salty boiled potatoes. year after year after year. in the decades since, i have to admit i’ve probably eaten the dreaded corned beef and cabbage on an occasion or two, but it is forbidden in my own kitchen and i have never, ever selected it off a menu. it was probably at my in-laws, or my parents’ home, i was possessed by guilt, and it was most definitely not on my birthday.

on March 17th, my favorites could be oysters or spinach or snails, as long as it’s not corned beef and cabbage. and my folks still shake their heads, wondering if i’m crazy, wondering where they went wrong.

have you a Zans for cans?

“at our house we open cans. we have to open many cans. and that is why we have a Zans.”

my office held a non-perishable food drive as our traditional Thanksgiving charitable event. i often remind folks to go beyond cans. they weigh so much, and i wonder how folks at the food bank deal with a lack of can openers. sure, now several manufacturers have gone to the pull-tab style, but that is mainly for name brands that can be over-priced. i always donate canned fruits and vegetables, but i augment the selection with crackers, pasta, rice, and powdered milk. this year i included several jars of baby food. although i made Punkin’s baby food, we always had a couple jars on hand for traveling.

we’re getting ready to travel next week, i’m wondering what to bring on the plane. Punkin is way beyond baby food, but he still eats primarily unprocessed food at home. he eats what we eat at dinnertime, but i’m still stuck in the rut of a fruit and vegetable from the frozen stash or freshly prepared. i know Gerber makes jarred finger foods (like green beans), and i know we can probably throw a few of our Gladware containers in the diaper bag. i know it’s an overnight flight and he’ll most likely be sleeping, but we’re going to Hawaii. i have this fear that when we get there everything will be closed for the Thanksgiving Holiday. maybe i should pack a can opener in the diaper bag, too.

i’m sure this is my OCD kicking in. i’m sure el Jefe’ has not given this a thought, or more importantly, a worry. but these are the things that rattle around in my head. my mom had surgery, and she’s doing okay, so i obviously have to find something else to worry about.

thanks, Dr. Seuss.

“have you a Zans for cans? you should.”