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April 2012

Before the pinecones get us all

We have a pretty large deck along the back of our house, plus a long-ish balcony off the living room and another off the master bedroom (the upper level is the main floor of the house) and all day long I kept hearing THUNK! and KA-THUNK! and terror-jolting up from my various napping positions with visions of dead birds. Dead birds are one of my very least favorite things. Except I forget, even after a year, that my house and it's deck and balconies are in a to the death battle with the surrounding evergreen trees, and the trees are winning. First they will incapacitate us by stoning via pinecone, then our senseless unconscious bodies will be buried under the pine needles. 

Jack and I counted twenty-two pinecones on the deck. That's twenty-two terror-jolts, people.

I was napping because - and again, I feel like both A Cliche and A Bore writing about this, but OH WELL - the crazy pills are messing with me. I thought I was in the clear, but for some reason I've been feeling super nauseous in the mornings and even more anxious than I was before. That's not really the PLAN. So. On the advice of my personal pharmacist I increased the dose and now I'll wait it out a bit longer. And NO, I'm not pregnant (which is the first thing my personal pharmacist asked me) (and I know you people) (NOOOO). 

Anyway, napping is a bit of a respite. Usually I can't sleep at all when I'm anxious, but this anxiety has absolutely nothing to do with Anything Going On, hence the MEDS (SRSLY, BODY, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU) so I don't have to, you know, fight my brain to empty it and zone out. Jack was at school until 2:30 practicing for the Spring Concert and my in-laws were here this afternoon so there was plenty of time for zoning out. Also for reading more of my Hitler book. (And you are SO my people. I LOVE YOU.)

I'm really lucky, I know it. 

Jack at school until 2:30 - it was maybe a taste of kindergarten? It was weird knowing I could just do lunch for Molly and not worry about going to get Jack. Although I had no idea what to do about Emma's nap. First I texted the FPC to see if she could come sit here while EJ napped, then I found out my in-laws could come a bit early. Day = saved. But what to do come kindergarten? Will Jack take the bus in the afternoons? Is that how it's going to work? Maybe I should worry about that later. 

Oh dear God can you imagine if I WAS pregnant? EJ is about Jack's age when I got pregnant with Molly. I was ecstatic then. I'd been ready for a new baby for months! (Phillip: not so much.) And even with Molly when I was more ambivalent, I would still have been so excited. And was excited. But right now the thought of a new baby fills me with Abject Terror. Dread, even. I feel awful saying that, but there are days right now when I feel like I am Barely Hanging On. (Phillip: THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING!) 

Let's not think about that either. 

Who knows where this blog post is going. 

It's not warm, but it's sunny right now and I just swept the whole deck and the kids are blowing bubbles and spring makes me hopeful. Well, until it starts to rain again, but right now I feel hopeful. Excited for the parties we'll have on that deck. The almost five-year-old in my house. His sister with her new haircut. The smiley baby. I really am so lucky. 

 


Another reason you wouldn't want to be Real Life friends with me

This is not typical mommyblogger fare, but I've been entrenched in a history book and I cannot get out of it. And I don't want to. I'm fixated. 

If you grow up with a dad like mine, you learn a few things about wars - ancient, modern, worldwide and obscure - whether you're interested or not. For the most part I was (am) not. I tuned out conversations about Gettysburg, ignored reading recommendations on WWI, begged to be excused from visiting battlefields, did not pay the slightest attention when we drove by pillboxes or memorials or various war leftovers and ruins of fortifications (which there are quite a lot of in Northern Italy and Austria and Bavaria, where we did a lot of traveling.) 

As I've gotten older I've developed an interest in the time periods of WWI and WWII. I love books set during wartime (especially English detective series, be still my heart); I love the TV shows and movies (Foyle's War, Downton Abbey). But I haven't been all that interested in the mechanics of the wars themselves. Hopefully not because I'm shallow and uncurious, but it's like when I read that Churchill biography - all that political and military strategy makes my eyes glaze over. 

What I have been interested in, since I was a little kid, is the Holocaust. Judging from the heaps of middle grade fiction books about the Holocaust I don't think that's so unusual. (And I read all of them.) But I've always felt a little... well, like that piece of history is especially nervewracking to me. I can't remember the context of this conversation at all, but I remember my dad telling me that our family would have been sent to a concentration camp. "But I'm not Jewish!" I think I said, and my dad, who is Jewish, and who remembers relatives with numbers tattooed on their arms, and who had a much better understanding than my elementary-school-aged self, said, "But that wouldn't have mattered to Hitler!"

So began my overly empathetic relationship to all number of tragedies - the plight of German Jews was just my specialty. First I was obsessed with what would have happened to me, if not for the year and location of my birth. And what sort of person would I have been? Brave? Probably not. The more I read the more ammo for my imagination, the more existential crises. Just in the last year or so I read that book about the couple who hides Jews in the zoo in Poland (true story) and oh God could I have done that? 

I have no idea why I started reading The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich. Well, actually, I do. Sometimes I like to read history and it was only $2.99 on the Kindle. Plus I like to at least APPEAR well-informed in front of my father. Sometimes. So I downloaded the sample and only a few pages in I knew I would be buying the book. It's a horror story. Literally. I can't tear my eyes away. 

And the thing is, I've been reading this book for a week now and the war hasn't even started yet! I think this is what's most horrifying to me. I thought I knew the story, but I didn't, not really. The war hasn't even started yet and I am gobsmacked by the "rise", which was so easy, so swift, so unproblematic, so helped along by all the people who should have stopped it. THIS political and military strategy is unbelievable. It really is. I keep having to remind myself that THIS HAPPENED. I keep asking myself HOW DID THEY LET THAT HAPPEN? 

I sort of wish I were reading, say, a really excellent YA novel that all the rest of you were interested in and totally wanted to read instead of this ginormous book (seriously, the Kindle says I'm only 30% done) with loads of footnotes. I'm sorry. I DO have other things on my mind, but this is the thing that I want to write down. I feel depressed and fatalistic and Phillip is annoyed with me because he wants to talk about his business trip but I have Hitler on the brain. I had to make chocolate chip cookies to feel better. HITLER IS MAKING ME GAIN WEIGHT. 

I just... I want people to be better than that. Are they? Am I? 

 


In which I post oh so flattering pictures of myself

Hello Internet. I am still sick of my own website. Everything I write is crap. Etc. Etc. 

Last night I sat down to write something Profound about Marriage, except Typepad wouldn't open for me and I decided to take that as a Sign. 

Perhaps a sign that I should go to bed, which I did, which was good, because:

  • 9pm: night terror
  • 10pm: kid wets the bed
  • 11pm: other kid wets the bed
  • 12am: baby wakes up
  • 1am: baby still awake
  • 2am: baby still awake
  • 2:45am: baby asleep? hopefully? maybe?
  • 3am: I finally go to sleep
  • 6am: big kids barge into my room demanding breakfast, baby wakes up

I've decided that even though my stylist is on maternity leave until July and even though I've had several friends and family ask me if I've had it cut recently (my interpretation: "they are noticing I actually DID my hair today") and tell me that it looks cute (my interpretation: "it's finally grown out enough that I no longer look like a fat little boy"), I can't stand it and I NEED A HAIRCUT.

Me:

Photo (90)

Oh yeah, this is how hot I look today. Not pictured: spit up, yogurt smear on shirt

Photo (91)

It's all just too long. I'm bored. I want it all taken up an inch or two. I want it a bit choppy. I do not want to look like Dorothy Hamill. 

These business trip weeks are not getting any easier you guys. Not that you want to hear about that. I'm just stating. For the record. 

HAIRCUT! I will schedule it. Chop off some hair = feel better. 


At least there is chocolate

I'm going to create my own workout DVD called Rock It Off. The promotional material will say something like, "Ever find yourself incredibly frustrated when your obviously exhausted baby won't just GO TO SLEEP? Rock her through this workout, guaranteed to put your baby to sleep and give YOU rockin' arms in just one week!" 

Not that it's working for me, of course. Too much cake around for that. 

Back around Christmas a good friend of mine had this Brilliant Idea where we would buy our husbands Coldplay concert tickets for Christmas gifts. So a bunch of us did this and the husbands were all appropriately geeked out and excited and then mine went and planned a business trip for the week of the concert. 

So! That same friend came over tonight to pick up Phillip's ticket - thankfully the guys asked around and found someone who wanted to go with them and buy our ticket. She also brought me a bag of my drug of choice: Ghirardelli bittersweet chips. Because I've been trying to put Emma to bed since 8 and it is now 9:10 and she is still whining at me. BLARGH. 

I don't feel that bad about the concert. I think this is because 1) I don't really LIKE Coldplay and am therefore not terribly disappointed that I won't get to vicariously see it and 2) HE IS THE ONE WHO SCHEDULED THE TRIP. And asked me AFTER SCHEDULING IT if we had anything going on that week. SO. 

The days have been fairly decent for solo parenting days. In the Huge Giant Plus Column is the fact that EJ has slept through the night five nights in a row. I KNOW. Her sleep is all super weird during the day - random times, random lengths, re-napping four or five or six times. But whatever because DUDE! Sleeping through the night! Except tonight, I think, she didn't go down (and stay down) during her Optimal Go To Bed Time and now she is all overtired and out of it and I AM BEING PUNISHED. 

So yeah, that's probably what I should be doing right now instead of writing this blog post. Fun times!


Embarrassments

All the kids are in bed and I should be sitting here watching The Good Wife and drinking my congratulatory You Got Through Monday! cocktail, but instead I'm sitting here trying to ignore a stomachache. And guess how I GOT this stomachache, Internet. I ate too much quinoa and lentils and spinach. WHO AM I?

A few weeks ago I happened to be at a friend's house for lunch and while our kids were feasting on cheese and carbs, she made this quinoa and lentil... salad? I guess? I had every intention of simply choking it down, but then I fell in deep legumey love. With hippie food. So basically it's quinoa and green lentils topped with feta, fresh spinach leaves, and some sort of tahini dressing. This blog just entered a whole new category of Seattleite.

She told me the tahini was from Whole Foods so I went to Whole Foods today when my in-laws were at home with the kids. I NEVER go to Whole Foods. It's inconvenient, but also expensive and I feel like an impostor. People there seem like the people who really CARE and I am the person who is totally happy to eat macaroni and cheese out of the pot and also maybe not buy the copy of Real Change from the dude hanging out in front of the main entrance. GO AHEAD AND JUDGE. 

Anyway. I couldn't find this tahini. I even asked one of the bespectacled hipster boys restocking the shelves. I ended up with a bottle of Whole Foods brand sesame and garlic salad dressing from the refrigerated produce section. CLOSE ENOUGH. Then I cooked up some quinoa and lentils for dinner, all pleased with myself for Cooking Something Different Because Phillip Is Out Of Town. 

And ate waaaaaaay too much of it. My stomach is seriously bulging out and not JUST because it NATURALLY BULGES.

Other thing about which I am feeling mildly embarrassed: I've been going to bed early so I can read The Rise And Fall Of The Third Reich. That's what I'm going to do RIGHT NOW. Well, right after I re-sleep the brand new seven-month-old, BLARGH. One day down, four to go!


Redeye

Phillip just left to catch a redeye to Where It Is That He Is Always Flying. I hate this house at night. By myself, I mean. When Phillip is here and I have made a giant vat of popcorn and he insists on watching Game of Thrones and I am hiding behind my fingers, then nighttime is not so bad. 

He's never done the redeye thing before. Usually when he has to be there first thing on Monday he leaves late Sunday morning, but THIS Sunday was the FPC's baby shower, which wasn't a proper girly baby shower so much as a Giant Everyone Is Invited Party and I might have ALMOST burst into tears when Phillip said he had to leave on THIS Sunday. So he scheduled the redeye instead and stuck around to mow the lawn and buy ice and wash all the dishes when everyone left. 

By the way, the FPC made OUT, you guys. I think she is all set for onesies and baby headbands and hooded towels. Her due date is May 18. Can you believe that? ME EITHER.

If you are going to throw a giant boys-are-included baby shower, I highly recommend having your mother make all the food, which is what I did. All I had to do was clean and decorate and decide how to arrange all the food on the table (which might be my favorite part). 

I also cut some branches off the camellia tree. 

Photo (89)

Our first apartment had a giant camellia tree that bloomed right next to our front door on the second level. I've always hoped to have another one. This house has TWO. 

I feel like I've been away for a while and actually I don't feel ready to come back. I'm feeling extra introverted tonight. Probably because we've had house guests since Friday morning - my SIL and nephew were here until after the baby shower. (My brother is ALSO out of town. BOO.) It was great, really - the kids do (mostly) well together and my SIL is a good time AND when we were out for a bit on Saturday she swept and vacuumed my entire house. Totally earned her keep. 

But houseguests plus three parties in four days and I am worn out. (Also fatter, though I wouldn't know for sure since I stuffed my scale underneath my bed so as not to start every morning in a Fit of Despair. The FPC's good friend, also a PC, made the MOST AMAZING CAKE OMG. Dense chocolatey moussey creaminess on brownie layer with ganache on top HEAVEN IN CAKE FORM.)

Oh, the other thing I did for the shower, even though it was not a nighttime event, was hang cafe lights on the deck. 

Photo (87)

This is a terrible picture, but perhaps you have a taste of the Mood. I love them. I have them on right now, even though it's too chilly to be outside and also I AM BY MYSELF, WEIRDO. 

In other news, tomorrow I will have a seven-month-old. 

Photo (88)

When did that happen? 

I am also, for the first time ever, coveting The Newest Fanciest Phone. That's usually Phillip's department, but it's become abundantly clear that I ONLY take pictures of my children with my phone and I am thinking I would like to have one with a better camera. Get on that, Apple. 

One really smart thing I learned from @anneoftroy is that when your husband is out of town on business, you should have a Thing that you Do. I think Annie said that she cooks stuff her husband doesn't like. (Um, when Phillip is out of town we eat cereal. Because all of us like cereal for dinner.) I am trying to think of what this week's project is going to be. I really need to paint the cabinet doors. I need to print out my sister's wedding invitations. I need to catch up on all the receipts and bills I haven't dealt with (see: three parties in four days.) I haven't decided. Maybe everything. 

This week, even though it's a longer trip, will hopefully be better than the last week he was gone. For one thing, I am successfully medicated. (HEH.) For another, I think I have friends visiting every night. I know! Our mornings aren't totally booked, but we have a few things planned, plus preschool, and I think we'll be fine. It's the middle-of-the-night that really gets me - what if I can't get Emma back to sleep? What if all three have an emergency at the same time? What if I can't sleep? What if I hear noises? What if something HAPPENS? (What would that BE?)

Then again, Emma (whose daytime schedule is OBLITERATED by the emergence of TEETH) has slept through the night two nights in a row, and MAYBE she will keep up the streak. Let us all light a candle. I'm going to go snuggle up to the Kindle. Night night. 


Sort of like a day off

We skipped preschool this morning and headed to Grandma's house. I used to do this at least once a week - pile everyone in the car in their pajamas with a snack bag full of cereal, plow through morning rush hour, and show up at my parents' house before nine. It's harder now, with preschool and a new baby. But my sister The Third Grade Teacher was putting on an afternoon showing of the school play (she's the director! of the school musical! aaahhhh!) and my mom really wanted to bring the kids. 

Emma and I drove back to Seattle fairly early - I have to time everything by the nap schedule, obvs - and I spent the rest of my day marveling over Life With Just One Kid. And a baby, not a walking talking demander of snacks. 

Actually, I was trying hard to remember what life was like with just Jack, but honestly, I DON'T REALLY REMEMBER. I remember his first six months pretty clearly, but I got pregnant with Molly at month seven and after that things are a blur. I am embarrassed to say it, but it's true. My biggest memory is watching hours and hours of election coverage (this was summer 2008) while Jack sat in the high chair or played on the floor. I WAS TIRED, ALL RIGHT?

I know I've said this so much already, but Jack and Molly are really Jackenmolly. I KNOW Jack is older and they definitely have different personalities and different opinions and preferences, but (THIS IS HORRIBLE) I tend to treat them as equally abled kids who do the same things and have the same schedules and I don't know - maybe this is how I got through Molly's first year? This year I've tried a lot harder to differentiate Molly and recognize that she's not as independent as her brother, and I think I've improved on the whole Jackenmolly front. 

But all that goes to show that having just this one little baby at home is kind of a novel experience for me, right now. I thought a lot about what life might have been like if Jack had been three when Molly showed up, like Molly was three when Emma was born. Not that I would have PREFERRED that (I actually have really really loved having those two so close together, especially now that they're little kids and buddies). But it might have been easier? The big kids are actually real helps with the baby, fetching things and entertaining her. 

So today was, shockingly, NOT the breeze I expected it to be. Emma herself seemed to be in a state of consternation. All, "WHERE IS MY ENTERTAINMENT?" I spent a lot of time just playing around with her, standing up, plopping back down, begging her to roll over, feeding her all sorts of mushy things in jars. But I also had to unload the dishwasher and fold the clothes and let Jillian Michaels yell at me, and while she was content to let me do these things for a few minutes, she wasn't big on letting me FINISH anything. 

And I also thought I could just take her around and run all my errands, but no, she got tired at a weird time and I had to obey the almighty nap schedule. As you do. But it's not like I could get around easier (or even all that faster, due to that godawful bucket seat) with just one kid. 

I mean, if they were ALL still babies that would be incredibly difficult. But these two BIG kids, who can buckle themselves into their car seats (almost) and get themselves dressed and get their own drinks of water and make up their own games AND DO ALL THESE THINGS WHILE ENTERTAINING THE BABY has made three kids Not Much Of A Big Deal. The things that ARE a big deal - sleeping, teething, not wanting to be put down - would be happening no matter what age the other kids were, right? 

Eventually I did take her out and I bought four (FOUR!) casual dresses at Ross (I KNOW!) and stopped at Target for formula and no less than four Older Ladies made eyes at my adorable baby and WHO WOULDN'T, am I right? 

She's taking a third nap right now, Phillip is getting some steaks ready to broil, and I am realizing that there IS one very important difference with the big kids gone, and that is I Can Actually Hear Myself Think OMG Is This What Normal Life Sounds Like?! 

(I will still be happy to get them back tomorrow.)


In which getting dressed is a depressive episode

I spent the greater part of my morning in an Oh God I Am Never Going To Lose The Baby Weight Depressive Episode. I made the rookie mistake of hopping on the scale before weigh in day and saw that I was up one pound and that's when the fits of despair kicked in. OH THE DESPAIR.

The fact that Emma woke up seventy-four times last night and the fact that I was unable to go back to sleep between each wake up surely had something to do with my mood, don't you think? I am hoping, because I can't keep emotionally throwing myself off bridges over this weight loss thing. 

I whined over IM to Elizabeth, who, you may already know, is having some sort of Wardrobe Renaissance and after five minutes unloading on Elizabeth my choice was clear: get thee to the mall, purchase the most affordable, cutest thing that FITS. It doesn't matter if it's not the "right" size. Buy something you feel good in. Stop feeling bad about yourself. Find something that makes you look nice. Because LIFE IS TOO SHORT. ETC. And the internet is tired of hearing about it FTLOG!

I've been inspired (and intimidated) by Elizabeth's uniform plan. I like the IDEA, but I don't know if I could make it WORK. I haven't really bought any clothes since Emma was born, besides a few necessary size XXL t-shirts at Target. I haven't wanted to buy new clothes AT ALL, since I've been hoping to lose the baby weight and fit into my pre-Emma summer wardrobe, all of which I still really like. (I tried most of it on the other day and IT ALMOST FITS. Skirts are so much more forgiving than jeans. LE SIGH.)

But anyway, I am unhappy NOW and needing a pick me up NOW and also not wanting to look like a yoga pantsed slob NOW. 

Pants make me depressed. I own five million cardigans and nothing to go under them. Putting two separate elements of an outfit together is clearly too hard for me. Also I've been wearing the same two or three jersey dresses ALL YEAR with leggings underneath. Now, I do not want to know if leggings are no longer okay, or if they weren't ever okay. I don't want to know because a dress with leggings underneath is basically the most comfortable thing I've ever worn and if it's wrong I don't want to be right. I am honestly afraid to ask. If I promise not to wear them as pants (EASIEST PROMISE EVER) can I keep them??? 

But thankfully we're gearing up on weather where I might not have to WEAR leggings (though this is Seattle - wishful thinking) so today I decided to expand my dress repertoire. Because if I'm going to commit to a uniform, I want it to be a dress. Preferably the sort of dress that is really a long t-shirt in disguise. I also want to go through my entire closet and throw stuff out/pack stuff up etc., a'la the brilliant Elizabeth, but lately I'm feeling like I barely have time to wash a load of desperately needed kid underpants and socks so the Closet Clean Out is going to have to wait. 

In the meantime, I went to the mall and tried on nine thousand dresses and they were all terrible. Terrible! The only good part in all of that was the terribleness was not my fault. These dresses were either cheap or cut funny or weird material or looked awesome except for the puffy sleeves or were super basic cotton dresses that made me look six months pregnant and cost $50 (ANN TAYLOR LOFT I AM LOOKING AT YOU.) 

I did come home with a pair of $10 jeans from Eddie Bauer. They are not TOTALLY perfect, but what pair of jeans IS totally perfect and also the TEN DOLLARS sort of makes up for it. 

But then I went straight to Athleta.com and bought two dresses. 

This one

Dorandress

I am suspicious of the seam around the bust, but people gave it rave reviews.

Also this one:

Morainedress
The link for this dress doesn't work which makes me think I bought the very last one. ???

Anyway. I am not sure where Athleta ranks in terms of Awesome, but I got their catalog for some reason the other day and I loved aaaaallll the dresses. I don't know. The sporty vibe speaks to me. The $98 price tags do not, but some of the sale stuff wasn't too bad. Maybe I just like the IDEA of being one of the sporty girl models in the catalog. That is totally a possibility. 

So now I will sit here in my yoga pants and Phillip t-shirt and too-small hoodie and wait for my dresses. HO HUM.


Friday bullets

At 6.5 months Emma has two teeth poking out, she's an excellent sit-up-by-herself-er, she's too long for her 9 month clothes and her feet are totally busting out of the footie pajamas, and I still haven't seen her roll over. I'm going to have to buy new 12 month clothes because all of Molly's 12 month clothes are little summer rompers and sleeveless dresses and we've got months and months to go before we hit Actual Summer. She eats like a champ, she requires just a bit of rocking/holding before she drifts off to sleep, she's still swaddled... what else, baby book-wise? Still thinks her brother hangs the moon, still snuggles with her sister, still the happiest cheeriest chillest baby EVER. She's the girl version of Baby Jack, even looks like a girl baby Jack, but somehow manages to be even more chill. We are totally keeping her. 

*********

I finished The Big Short a few days ago and I am still sort of obsessing over it. I HAD NO IDEA. I thought all Wall Street did was trade stocks. I AM AN IDIOT. Those people are buying and selling billions of dollars of MADE UP STUFF! OMG! I mean, I didn't understand half of it, at least, but I understood enough to be gobsmacked. Someone asked me today if it made me angry - not really. I mean, yes, I was horrified etc. But the story is almost unbelievable, you know? Like you sort of can't fathom the idea that people were actually doing what they were doing. And at the end, even the people who shorted the market, meaning they made money when all the banks failed - THEY WEREN'T HAPPY. Nobody came out on top. UGH!

Also, Phillip and I bought a house in 2005, which is when all those subprime mortgages took off, and thinking back now I am HORRIFIED at what we could have done. It's sort of a complicated story of how we bought our first house, but I just remember all the people who made it sound like buying a house was the smartest best move we could make, and ANYONE can buy a house now, and you don't even have to put any money down, and OMG I AM SO THANKFUL WE DID IT THE OLD FASHIONED WAY. And not because I wanted to - that was my FIL butting in and telling us how to do it (and pretty much making it happen!) THANK GOD. (I HAVE THE BEST IN-LAWS EVER.)

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I am ten pounds away from my goal weight. I am 99% certain I won't be able to fit into my pants at my goal weight. BUT STILL. Ten pounds. I am proud of me. 

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I need fun baby shower favor ideas. Baby girl, owl theme, ideally favors that double as decor. My mom says we don't need favors. I suppose we DON'T, but I think it would be NICE. Also I need some decorations! I wanted to do little pots of primroses, but the primroses aren't looking so great right now. IDEAS? Pinterest is a little on the flowery/girly/lavender sachet side. (LAVENDER CAN DIE IN A FIRE.)

********

I've been looking at every clothing site on the internet in search of a bridesmaid dress for my sister's wedding. No luck so far, but I HAVE decided I will buy everything on the Boden website when I win the lottery. Or when I fit into my pants again. (More likely that I will win the lottery.) I have this plan to wear Dresses All The Time, not because I want to look Fancy but because Pants Will Not Fit. Also, dresses are cute, right? And comfy? Anyway, I want allllll of these. I accept donations. 

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It turns out that the best ice cream in the universe - Graeter's Black Raspberry Chip - is now easily purchased at the regular old grocery store down our street. !!!!!!!!!!!!! My BIL and SIL live in Cincinnati, HOME of Graeter's Black Raspberry Chip ice cream, and there have been moments when Phillip and I have seriously considered having some SHIPPED to us. But now! We can buy it down the street! WE ARE ALL AMAZEMENT! We are also going to eat some and watch some very bad television. I hope you are having an equally exciting Thursday evening. 


Sadness abounds! Alternate title: it's past my bedtime

Sucked it up and went to a church meeting tonight. You like how I have to phrase it that way? So sad, since I VOLUNTEERED and everything. I think once my commitment to this particular group is over I'm going to opt out of the whole councilmember thing and do something totally different. I think I might really like to be an RCIA sponsor again. Maybe. That is a HUGE chunk of time. Hmm. 

I'm always a big brat about going to the meetings, but then I GO and I am almost always the better for it. I've lucked out in having really smart and interesting people on these committees with me and they totally let me be my little introverted self while they hash things out, meaning they do all the talking and I do all the learning. Sure, sometimes we're discussing gnarly budget details, but other times someone is talking about WHY they went and changed all the words again and I am EDIFIED! 

Anyway. Tonight I was a half hour late getting home on account of our pastor bringing everyone up to speed on the whole Petitions In Support Of The Anti-Gay Marriage Referendum in my state. Here's an editorial about it. This is the letter from the bishops put out in January. But basically the archbishop okayed having petitions available, should you want to sign one, IN THE CHURCHES (at the individual pastor's discretion) and if you are at all wondering what the general response is, it appears to be AW HELLS NO. 

I didn't know about this, which was super embarrassing to me. I mean, I used to live on a steady diet of cable news. There was no subject on which I hadn't read at least 10 editorials. But LIFE IS DIFFERENT NOW (I think I've mentioned this a time or two recently) and here I am taking the MINUTES at the meeting and I have to ask what petition they are even talking about. Ugh, I hate looking bad. 

But anyway. The whole thing just gives me a stomachache. Not in my meeting - everyone there was very much in agreement re: what to do (three guesses!), but I just get sad and frustrated and confused and BLARGH. 

Sometimes I get confused because I belong to this ginormous and international church where the rules are the same for everyone and we're all supposed to be reaching for the same ideals, blah blah blah. But the strong opinions, the priorities, the passions of the congregation at my church are, I am guessing, characteristic of Catholics who live in Seattle. I suspect Catholics who live elsewhere, say, Small Midwest Town, are a bit different. I don't KNOW, having never been to a Catholic church in the Midwest (oh wait! I went to one with Arwen in Michigan! and one in Cincinnati! I LIE!) I am just GUESSING. I mean, again, I go to church in Seattle. Draw your conclusions!

Whatever. I don't know what to do with that. The whole thing is actually way more nuanced than what I've written here. Mostly I want to say: it makes me feel sad and thinky and more sad. 

Anyway, I got MY stuff done. Yay gift of administration! Basically my rule was: I'll organize anything you want, just don't make me get up in front of everyone and make an announcement. Because then I will die. 

If you are curious, Spring Break is going as well as can be hoped. We are finding various things to do - or not, as in this morning when Emma slept from 8:30 to ELEVEN THIRTY WHAT THE HECK. But I am making great use of makinglearningfun.com and I am being very generous about play dough and I have allowed the boy to buy an iPad game or two and we are getting along just fine. Two more days! We can do it! 

And then I think about next year, when he'll be going to full time kindergarten, and will we ever cut and paste homeschooling projects at 10:30 in the morning ever again? OH NO I AM FEELING MORE SAD WAAAHHH.