Resolutions

New Year's Eve is a lot like going to Paris.  You are led to believe (primarily by romantic comedies) that you should be having way more fun than you inevitably do.  And then you just feel like a big fat loser when you spend New Year's Eve stripping wall paper or discover in Paris that you and your husband really aren't that compatible of traveling partners unless you are going to a beach location.  Seriously, if you want to see if your husband has a short fuse, get on the metro with a gypsy playing "la vie en rose" on an accordion for like 45 minutes.

I don't mind the whole resolution thing however, I think we should all strive to be better - though we should probably revisit the task more than once a year.  So to satisfy every damn morning show's assumption that I'm a typical American, I'll go ahead and write down some resolutions for the year.  

1. This year I will not tell god to "suck it."  He should probably ease up and not give me a reason to think of a substitute action though.
2. I will not judge people solely on the basis of what is in their shopping carts.  Everybody is entitled to Ho Ho's and Fresca as a coping mechanism sometimes.
3. I will reduce the amount of processed food my family eats.  Even if it means that we lose the longevity side effects of preservatives.
4. I will not call Elisabeth Hasselbeck an empty headed turd this year.  Oh sorry, I just re-thought that one and I'm not going to make it to the weekend on this one so may as well strike it from the list.
5. More Frontline, less Bridezillas.

Wrapping up another year

My last house guests left this morning.  I love my mother and she can stay forever but my step dad has about a 36 hour freshness date.  After that, I've had enough.  I'm used to his complete ego centric ways manifested in just one way by walking into a room and picking up the remote and changing the channel to whatever HE wants to watch regardless of whether someone is actually watching tv.  But I figured, ok, he can do it at HIS house (though it's still rude) but jesus christ who does that in someone else's house??  Oh and the complaints about how "liberal" the media are when I dared to watch The Today Show in my own house were so nice, I guess he's never heard of Fox News.  So yeah, the one downside to holiday gatherings.

Our house now resembles more of a daycare center with toys taking up every free inch of space. So much for the not creating an "entitled" child plan.  The child is quite into helping me cook these days, letting her help is the only way I can get something made.  I give her a bowl, mixing spoon, and put a little sugar in the bowl and everybody's happy.  Until that inevitable sugar crash.  Which reminds me,  my mother set off a nice little tantrum by asking the child if she wanted candy for dinner and then the child found out I wasn't going to be delivering on that request.  Seriously grandma, make that promise when she's at your house and I'm not around.  

We don't call him Mr. Malaprop for nothing

My step dad was excited to tell us about the "erotic animal park" they passed on their drive to our house.  Being in our nature to egg him on, we told him that none of us were animal fetishists but thanks for the info nonetheless.  

Best Christmas Ever, The Update

My brother did not in fact end up dripping in gold on Christmas but he did get the watch he wanted.  A watch issued to the Rhodesian army god knows how many years ago.  Which is great except if it's moved sort of upside down, it suspends time.  

Here is my favorite conversation this Christmas:

Mom: What happens when Thumbelina (world's tiniest horse) dies?  Then there's no more world's tiniest horse?

Me: I think the world's second tiniest horse moves up the list.  I'm sure they've got some sort of succession plan.

Brother #1: Yeah, like when the world's fattest man dies, there's still a world's fattest man, it's just a different guy. 

Mom: Oh.

The best Christmas ever

I'm waiting for wave one of my holiday guests to arrive, my solo brother and my other brother and his girlfriend.  And I am reminded of the Christmas a few years ago when my brother Mike (the one who gave me the above card for Christmas) decided that we should make it "the best Christmas ever" and also declared nearly everything to be a Christmas miracle, except when the dog got so excited when she saw a stocking full of dog toys that she puked.  Mike is the one who declared that he wanted to be covered in gold like Mr. T when Christmas was over this year so that'll give you an indication of how heartfelt and serious his "best Christmas ever" pledge was.  Sometime during dinner things went astray, I can't even remember what did it but I do clearly remember my husband saying "well let's just shoot for the best New Year's ever."  

I'm not sure if this year will be the best Christmas ever as my other brother has declared that there will be some sort of death match over who gets the guest bedroom and has vowed to take down my mother to get it.  She's 63 and just had rotator cuff surgery.   My mother has requested that my brother's good arm be immobilized for the fisticuffs.  I'm taking it under advisement.  

Baby dreams

My daughter has been running a fever the past few days so her sleep has been a bit restless.  Last night she was talking in her sleep which is hilarious because at 18 months, it's not like she has a huge vocabulary.  I don't know what she was dreaming about but she said "apple," then a little while later "Hi!"  Maybe she was having one of those dreams where you are friends with celebrities and she and Apple Martin were best buds.  That or she was dreaming of her latest obsession, applesauce.  

I'd like a refund

Monday I had the super fun saline infused sonogram in preparation of my FET.  And it revealed that I am now the proud owner of a uterus with adhesions, also called Asherman's Syndrome.  A result of the d & c though I swear to god I never heard my doctor mention that as a possible complication.  Tomorrow I trot off to the RE to have a consult about surgery to remove.  Dr. Google has some scary pregnancy complications for me to worry about if the FET works.  So uh, god, when you are done sucking it as I have extensively requested, I'd like a refund on the bum reproductive parts you gave me.  

Christmas 2008

We got an email from my MIL about a month ago preparing us for the fact that they were trimming down on presents (because of the economy and they've lost 1/2 their retirement in the down market blah, blah, blah) and plan to spend only $25-$50 per family this year.  Which is totally fine with me however I wanted to point out they've never spent more than $50 on us ever.  Even though last year his mom decided that the kids should buy his dad a new recliner.  Last year when his mom asked what we wanted I told her that we were very fortunate and just happy to have a healthy child so what we'd really like is if they made a donation to a charity of our choice.  And she didn't do it.  She sent us a target gift card.  This year one of my husband's sisters decided that since their dad is so hard to buy for and never wants anything, she would make a donation in his name.  So the MIL included that in the email and that it was a "great idea."  And the rest of us could do that too.  OR we could buy them a gift card to a casino or to the stores she likes.  So yeah, guess what she really wants.  Let me tell you a little story about her and then figure out what I decided to do for her present.  

A few years ago her brother was struck and killed while crossing the street.  The driver was found to be somewhat at fault - she wasn't drunk but I think she was speeding though not excessively so.  So she and her siblings sued the driver (or really, the driver's insurance company) and got a settlement.  Now the brother who was killed was a priest so he left behind no family of his own that needed to be provided for.  I think the fact that they sued is ridiculous but since they did perhaps they should use that settlement money to do something to honor her brother - give it to his church maybe.  Oh no.  My MIL buys herself a new washer and dryer and fridge.  

This year I'm imposing forced charity on her, I don't care if she wants a casino gift card that's a complete waste of money and I'm not going to be a part of it.  She can go wrestle those nickels for the slots out of the hands of the children at St. Jude's Research Hospital if that's what she'd rather have.  

I'm totally staying in this book club

I've written before about how my book club is the most fertile place on earth (and caused me to be the subject of many google searches) and my hypothesis just keeps getting more evidence.  One of my book club friends called today to tell me that she's pregnant.  With twins.  And I am very happy for her, probably because she's non-infertile person who "gets it."  She was one of the few people I told about my miscarriage and she called to tell me she was sorry and asked if there was anything she could do.  She called me today to tell me about her pregnancy because she had planned on telling the group this week at book club but wanted to be considerate of my feelings and let me know ahead of the group announcement.  She said she felt empathetic because she knows it's hard for me and other friends of hers to get pregnant and she does feel guilty that it's been easy for her.  I can't say that I don't envy her but I am genuinely happy for her.  I'm totally thinking that this book club is my ticket to more than one kid though.  I think it's like when you're in college and everyone in the dorm has their period at the same time, this group must be emitting some fertility pheromones.  

Hey wait just a minute there Santa

Is it just me or does it look like Santa is trying to kill my child?

Potty training

I had decided that when the child turned 18 months I'd buy a potty chair and just sort of test the waters to see what her receptiveness is.  The pediatrician mentioned potty training in her 18 month checkup, saying that this is when he first starts to address it.   And I've read some stuff that John Rosemond has written about it and he asserts that a child is easier to potty train at 18 months than when they are older than 2.   So I get the potty chair and the child is very interested in it.  Interested in disassembling it, sitting on it fully clothed, and using it as a step stool.  I'm wondering how exactly am I supposed to get the concept across to her that she should use that potty chair instead of a diaper?  Because she does not appear to know what I am talking about, or she does and just doesn't care.  When I ask if she has a dirty diaper she doesn't respond.  I figured things are not clicking in the potty area of her brain so we'll just keep doing "dry" runs and see what happens.  

And then yesterday we got home from a playdate (best playdate ever with a bouncy castle and just little kids so nobody got squashed) and she was exhausted so I was getting her ready for her bath.  In her wired state she bit me, which is not unusual - she's a happy biter (only of me).  She did it a few times so I decided to just put her in the crib for a momentary time out while I gathered her pajamas.  Literally 45 seconds later I go to get her and see that she's peed in the crib.  So I take her out and say (rhetorically I'm thinking) "do you need to go sit on the potty chair?" and begin changing the linens on her crib.  And while I'm changing the linens she goes into her closet, climbs up a step stool in there and pees on that.   I'm thinking now that Mr. Rosemond's potty training at 18 months was for dogs or monkeys and not human babies.  

Christmas

My family decided to go easy on the Christmas gifts this year, so my mom sent out this email last week to everyone:

I know we have been talking about limiting Christmas gifts, so do we really mean it?  Should we just say one gift?  Help me here, so we can be consistent.  I need to shop right away.

That pretty much opened the flood gates.  I asked for a litter of ferrets and whether that counts as one gift or does each individual ferret count as a gift.  Then my brother sent this email:

That sounds fine.  Annie and I have done a lot of shopping together, so some folks will be getting more than one thing.  I expect to be showered with expensive jewelry.  I told Annie that I want to come home looking like Mr. T.  That's my goal.  However you guys want to divide up those responsibilities is completely up to you.  I just don't want to be let down this year.  See picture for further details.

I've learned everything important from tv (and the bible).

I watched 17 and counting the other night.  You know, the show about the Duggars of Arkansas who have 17 kids and a bun in the oven.  And I have to say I enjoy them a lot more than Jon and Kate plus 8 because Kate Gosselin is pretty much the most annoying person EVER.  I think those Duggars are a little crazy but hey, they provide for their children and their children appear to be well adjusted, well behaved, nice children. 

This weeks episode had the Duggars loading up their touring bus and heading to a family reunion. One of the highlights of this trip was to a place called the Creation Museum.  I guess my grand opening flyer got lost in the mail because I had no idea this place existed.  It's basically an animatronic museum displaying a representation of the bible's creation story and thus disproving evolution which Jim Bob says "is not based on science."  HUH??  Dinosaurs and humans frolic together, just like they really did 6 thousand years ago.  The Duggars could not contain their excitement that this museum PROVED the creation story.  The bible says it, and therefore it's true.  The best part was the interview with the camera crew where they were asked if they believed that the earth was created in 6 days.  When asked why they did not, one guy said "uh, fossils, carbon dating, science."  

Even better than this museum is the response to it, that you can see here.

Parenting advice

My best friend has 7 year old twins and a 3 year old.  When her twins were younger (and even now in fact) she will call and tell me about their behavior and say "what should I do?"  To which I always reply "why are you asking me?"  Hey, I'll give you my thoughts but now that I have a child of my own, I can confirm, I'm flying by the seat of my pants here and often have no clue what to do.  But I can tell you this.  Do not ever, ever, ever, put your child in the toy tub with wheels and push her around.  Not unless you'd like to spend 6 hours a day doing that for the next several months of your life.  I'm not done with my thesis on this yet but I believe there is an inverse correlation with the pain in the ass factor to parent vs. enjoyment to be had by child.  Also known as the "Why sitting quietly and reading books is only enjoyable for 8 seconds but kicking an airplane seat is pleasurable for hours" theorem.  

Not an upbeat tv weekend

I watched Christiane Amanpour's special on CNN this weekend, Scream Bloody Murder.   It's good, watch it.  It is uncomfortable and unpleasant to watch because it is about genocide.   But the fact that 60 years after the term genocide was coined it is still going on, makes it imperative that we do watch.  It also doesn't make the Clinton administration look so good with consistent failure to act.  

Then last night I happened upon a documentary called Dear Zachary.  I literally could not sleep last night because the story had burrowed so deeply into my brain (and heart).  I warn you, the story is tragic, like heartrending utter tragedy.  The documentary was made by a friend of Dr. Andrew Bagby who was murdered by his ex-girlfriend Dr. Shirley Turner, who was essentially stalking him.   He was the only child of devoted parents who decided that after they went to collect his body they would commit suicide because they had nothing left to live for.  Then the ex-girlfriend flees to her native Canada while out on bail and announces she is pregnant.  The Bagbys leave their lives in California to go to Newfoundland and be near their only grandchild and last link to their son.   They comply with the requests of Turner (who is crazy) so they can see their grandson Zachary and feel that they are just biding their time and that the legal system will eventually work and get Shirley extradited to the US to face murder charges and also protect their grandson.  Neither happens because when Zachary is 13 months old, Turner kills Zachary along with herself.  The Bagbys go on, heartbroken and just plain broken but crusade to change the laws that allowed accused murderer Turner to flee to Canada, stay in Canada, and have custody of a child.  I honestly don't know how they go on.  I totally understand their initial thoughts of suicide after losing their only child.   The one bright spot in the movie is the multitude of friends of Andrew's who speak of their love and admiration for Andrew's parents.   I hope that the Bagbys find some peace and happiness, they have suffered terribly.  

Well of course

I told my friend that I would do a 1/2 marathon with her because she wanted to get motivated to get into better shape and I thought it would be a good goal for me too.  I hadn't really done much distance running since the baby was born and I like it.  And then about 2 days after we found a race to do I found out I was pregnant.  My doctor said it was ok to keep running so I did, but not really anything too long or strenuous.  I figured if things didn't work out at least I could do the 1/2 marathon.  And then when things didn't work out with the pregnancy I still kept training for the race.  I did my long run the day before the d & c so I wouldn't miss out on my weekly long run.  Then my friend got a knee injury about a month ago so I've been on my own.  

So today was the big race.  And as I'm standing in line to use the bathroom 20 minutes before the race I think I feel something.  And the trip to the bathroom confirms I've gotten my period.  In a big way.  And I have no supplies with me (of course) and oh yeah, my shorts are now bloody.  I suppose I could have wandered around asking random strangers for a tampon but I just gave it up and called it a day.  The only other race I ran when I got my period - the Maui marathon where I got my period during the race (but was prepared) and also ON MY HONEYMOON - was miserable.  I was crampy and just felt like shit.   My whole life it's been like that, starting with the very first time.  When I was wearing white shorts and seeing Raiders of the Lost Arc - with my dad.  Awesome.  Oh well, the arrival of this period is the start of the countdown for our frozen cycle.  And hopefully one step closer to menopause.  

A game that didn't quite sweep the nation

Today while talking to my mother for some reason we started talking about the game she and her next door neighbor used to play when they were little.  Their parents were good friends and would come over for cocktails or whatever (this was the 50's) and my mom and her friend Jackie (a boy) would take turns standing in the toilet and having the other person flush it.  Had she known, my very prim grandmother would surely have been mortified.  The best part is the very clever name they chose for this game.  Feet toilet.  

That reminds me of the Heloise column where someone wrote in and asked if they could defrost their turkey in the toilet.  Because you know, it was big enough and had cool water.  I guess the whole people poop in there factor didn't enter into her problem solving equation.

Aren't you a little old for that?

Today my husband is wearing a "And you will know us by the trail of the dead" t-shirt.  This is just one of his ridiculously stupid band t-shirts.  I must emphasize HE DID NOT wear these before we got married so I did not know what I was getting into here.  Let me point out that he is 42.  And not in any one of these bands.  So I see no conceivable reason why he should be wearing these shirts.  One day he was totally psyched because our next door neighbor commented on his Nine Inch Nail t-shirt.  Sweet, the guy next door thinks your t-shirt is cool.  Guess who probably won't think it's cool?  Your daughter.  Who has to look at the pictures of the day she was born and see that stupid ass shirt.  And now, I must locate Tim Gunn to come and have a come to jesus talk with him.

No co-sleeping here

Our daughter has never slept in our bed.  Primarily because I was convinced that she's going to be my only child and I'm trying not to do things that would oh my god surely kill her (by the way I know that co-sleeping would not surely kill her but I am very very neurotic).  So save that one time when she was brand new and I fell asleep sitting up in bed and nursing and awoke 3 hours later in the same position, she's always had her own accommodations.  Lately though she's been sick and teething - seriously when does the teeth thing freaking end?  When I can't get her to go back to sleep and I'm just exhausted I've tried bringing her into our bed to sort of wind down.   I keep doing this despite all evidence to the contrary that any winding down will happen.  It's usually like a sensory overload for her - oh my god you guys have a DOG in your bed? Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.  What's that over there - the baby monitor, let me crawl over you and rip that out of the outlet.  I'm gonna stand up now and just fall backwards, you know, like that Lee Majors Fall Guy show, hahahaha.  And then after about a half hour of that I just trudge back up to her room and put her in bed.  Where she fucks around for another hour and then eventually falls asleep.  I would rather co-sleep with a ferret than my own child on any sort of regular basis.  And I keep having a recurring nightmare that a ferret clamps down on my finger and won't let go.

The fabulousness that is Bridezillas

The WE channel's been having a Bridezillas marathon the past few days.  Probably to get us all warm and happy feeling for the holidays.  I really would like to see some sort of follow up on these people, actually if there was some channel for men similar to Oxygen and there was a companion show to Snapped then I'm pretty sure I'd be seeing all of the follow ups.  Let me give you a few highlights and then try to tell me it's not the best show ever.  Oh, I have early onset Alzheimer's so I don't remember most of these brides names so I'll just make up names here and there.

Lisa Coppola (her real name) - getting married to her ex-husband.  Of 10 months.  Says she's an "actress and model."  The only thing I think she's modeling is barbie hair because she appeared to have had a barbie hair transplant.  After Lisa goes crazy because her husband has no interest in helping her plot out the seating charts and making sure the relative who sells insurance is not seated next to his parents who do not want any more insurance, her mother says to her ex/future husband "are you sure you want to marry her again?"   

Desiree  (not her real name).  I never heard Desiree's fiance say a word.  Desiree is a little chunky and her mom is afraid she won't fit in her wedding dress so she starts insisting she go on some diet that Beyonce is supposedly peddling.  Desiree says no so mom and one of the bridesmaids mix up this Beyonce diet drink and attempt to make Desiree drink it.  That went over really well.  Then somehow it dawns on the group - hey that bridesmaid is chunky too, let's make her drink the Beyonce drink.  This devolves into a rolling around wrestling match with Desiree and the bridesmaid.  Sadly no heterosexual men watch the WE channel so they miss the opportunity to see a catfight/women's wrestling match.  Sidenote: I noticed that one of the pay per view shows the other day was "Women's Erotic Wrestling."  Huh?  Desiree's mom eventually takes her shopping at a girdle shop (where are these stores exactly) and buys her a $100 girdle.  Desiree thinks she looks so hot she says "Tyra look out."  Yes Tyra, look out, because you might have some Beyonce diet drink shoved down your throat by a giant bride soon.

Facebook

Uh, I'm totally into facebook these days.  Mostly for the word twist, secondarily for the gossipy scandalous lives I've been able to piece together for people I've known over the years.  There's a guy I went to law school with, we were friendly but never hung out.  I believe my friend and I kicked his ass in trial practice but that's neither here nor there.  I see him at reunions but that's pretty much it (I graduated 14 years ago).  Not that long ago I get a facebook friend invite from him and I accepted.  And I was looking at his picture - those profile pictures are too damn tiny - trying to figure out if the woman in it was his wife, who happened to be someone I went to high school with.  Well today I got my answer.  He uploaded a whole new batch o'pictures.  Including his wedding (to wife #2?) where his new wife is (a) belly dancing (b) sporting ginormous fake boobs (c) dancing with what appears to be a candleabra on her head.  

Another recent facebook friend is another guy from law school who is obviously on wife #2 and child #4.  Which I thought was interesting because one of the things I remember from law school was that he had a vasectomy.  I can never get any of the really old supreme court justice questions on jeopardy but I sure do remember who had a vasectomy.  Yes, that was $80,000 well spent.