Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Dusty is presenting at GDC this week, and Diana and I have been painting the town red! Well, maybe more like mauve. We've shoveled four inches of snow from the driveway together, baked muffins, had dinner with the Weekeses and lunch with Uncle Keith and Tina, and even did a little shopping. I think tonight we'll turn in early, cuddle up in our pajamas together and read the new books we bought this afternoon. PAR-TAY!
The last few days of solo parenting have made me even more mindful about how quickly time is passing. I go back to work on June 1, so about two weeks ago I paid the registration fee to reserve Diana's daycare spot. I was going to leave her in the carseat, since we were just going to fill out and drop off the registration, but she indicated that she wanted out. I put her on the floor and she took off in the direction of the little kids. She looked back at me briefly, but kept crawling toward her new playmates. It will be good for her to finally be able to socialize with kids her own age. It will be fine. She will be fine. I will be fine.
Oh, who am I kidding? I AM A WRECK. I just know I'm going to WEEP the first time I have to drop her off by herself. I'll feel like a bad mom if she weeps the first time I drop her off by herself. I know that the daycare folks will take good care of her; Dusty and I took the time to visit each daycare we were considering and this was our first choice by a mile. But there are 12 babies in the program. Will they have enough time to just love her?
What really gets me is that motherhood just got to be FUN for me. When I first got this gig, I was overjoyed but overwhelmed. There were many frustrating days in those first few months, when I barely held my shit together, when I started to wonder why I thought I could handle motherhood. To preserve my sanity, I resolved to take it one diaper, one feeding, one nap, one step at a time. I just tried to survive day to day.
Then somewhere along the line, everything clicked into place. Diana and I got into a groove with each other. I observed her patterns and figured out a daily routine that works for both of us. But perhaps more pertinently, the wee beastie has become a little person. She is funny and sweet and opinionated. She understands and interacts. We are play buddies and girlfriends. This afternoon, she and I picked out her very first tiara: a purple foam number that we will decorate with glitter and stickers. Yay!
I know that I am a competent, loving, and proud mama who's raising a healthy, happy, and smart little girl. I know that no matter who takes care of her during the weekdays, nobody will take my place in her heart. I know that she and I will still be play buddies and girlfriends. I'm just really going to miss my sunshine. I think I'll go wake her up from her nap with a big ol' cuddle.
"You Are My Sunshine" by Johnny Cash, et al
Friday, March 20, 2009
So, remember last year when I asked you to come up with a compelling reason to convince me to join Facebook? Ladies and gentlemen, my baby sister throws her hat into the ring:
Maricel: New Kids were AWESOME last night! I was so close I could see their wrinkles. I took SO MANY photos of Jonathan and Jordan, awwws!
Cookie: Nice! Send them to me.
M: I already posted them on my Facebook. Oh, wait. You're not on Facebook, are you?
M: Just get a Facebook, girl. Join the cult! It won't hurt a bit. Hee-hee!
M: Well, okay. I guess you can just ASK YOUR HUSBAND TO USE HIS ACCOUNT SO YOU CAN LOOK AT PHOTOS OF NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK.
C: Damn it.
NKOTB and Secret Shame, for the win.
Happy Two-Days-Before-Your-Birthday, Maricel! You little shit.
"Believe It Or Not" from The Greatest American Hero TV show. If I'm going to nerd out anyway, I may as well go big.
Monday, March 9, 2009
[This is my version of Zan McQuade's list, "Things I Sometimes Imagine Against My Will", which Mighty Girl also did a few days ago. Be brave, little one.]
I look up from washing my face in the sink and I see in the mirror that there is someone behind me. And it's not my husband trying to cop a feel.
I open the curtains in my bedroom to let the moonlight shine through and there is a face at the window.
Just as I'm about to drop trou, Pennywise comes up from the toilet to devour me. [After we watched that movie, my sister and I went to the bathroom together for a week.]
I'm typing at my computer and get the distinct feeling someone is behind me. I turn around to discover I am right. And once again, it's not my husband trying to cop a feel.
I fall down the basement stairs and break my neck. When Dusty gets home, he finds my crumpled body at the bottom of the stairs and the baby standing at the safety gate, wailing.
The zombie apocalypse comes while I am out running errands by myself. I rush home and find the house -- with Dusty and Diana trapped inside -- surrounded by the undead.
I get into my car, exhausted after long hours of crunch, and do not notice that a knife-wielding psychopath is in the back seat.
A hand shoots out from under my car/bed and grabs my ankle. [I guess this is a common one.]
The baby monitor starts making the cluck-cluck-cluck alien sounds like in the movie Signs.
"Somebody's Watching Me" by Rockwell/Michael Jackson
Thursday, March 5, 2009
"Say it in broken English"
[Click on the image below for the full awesomeness of the comic]
So who's going to tell Aretha Franklin that her song should really be "Who's Zoomin' WHOM?"?
"Broken English" by Marianne Faithfull
Thanks for the comic, Cori!
"The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top / The snow is softly fallin' / The air is still within the silence of my room / I hear your voice softly callin'"
On Tuesday, I came out of London Drugs after just 20 minutes and had to scrape ice from my windshield; I kept the car running so the battery wouldn't freeze up again. Yesterday, I went to Superstore with the baby and had to wade through the snow runoff in the parking lot just to get a cart. Today, there was a winter storm watch warning for Central Alberta. It's drafty in my house and my child is wearing two sets of pajamas.
Freeze, thaw, repeat. For most of the rest of the world, the onset of March means that springtime is coming. For Edmontonians, it means that springtime is coming . . . OH GODDESSES PLEASE LET SPRINGTIME COME AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT UNTIL THE MIDDLE OF MAY?!
But you know what? I don't care. This year, we are going to skip the coming of springtime and jump right into summer, at least for a week. That's right, kids! We're going to Maui! I've booked our flight, car rental, and condo. I bought the baby two pairs of shorts on clearance and I'm dusting off all my best flip-flops. A co-worker lent us some guidebooks and one of them is already bursting with post-its. Can you tell I'm excited? Because I am. REALLY REALLY REALLY EXCITED. It's like Christmas is coming, only better because when we get to Christmas, I will be nearly naked on the beach! Just like home . . .
So here are a few things we have been told about Maui:
1) Haleakala is gorgeous and we should try to hike a little in the crater. If we go see the sunrise at the summit, bundle up.
2) The best beaches for kids are on the west side of the island.
3) Every beach is open to the public, even the ones in front of fancy hotels.
4) It takes about three hours to drive the 30-mile Road to Hana. We might consider taking sick bags.
5) Parking in Lahaina is terrible, but it is a lovely walk-around town.
6) Swim in at least one waterfall pool.
Do you have something new to tell us about Maui? Be quick about it because we only have
48 days six weeks one and a half months [Is that the smallest possible time measure?!] until we leave.
"Song for A Winter's Night" by Gordon Lightfoot, re-made famous by Sarah McLachlan