Posts from — March 2009

I am sitting on the unmade bed, Noah is watching a video, Rosie is in the bouncy seat.  I probably have 2.5 minutes if I’m lucky.  One time I wrote a post like this on purpose as an interesting exercise using a timer set to 2 minutes to see what came out.  This go around my timer is Rosie’s vocal chords set to SHRILL PIERCING SCREECH.  Because this is her new trick!  And we are so excited about it!  Kind of like how we’re excited about our taxes!

After rest time today Noah wanted me to get the camera so he could take some pictures of Rosie and then he discovered he’d rather video.  Here is his cinematic masterpiece:

I’m kind of feeling like my kids are glued to me like cheap birthday tattoos at the moment – one wakes up just as the other falls asleep, one needs to eat just as the other is throwing away the crusts of his PB and banana sandwich, one is being dressed as the other is getting into the tub and then the first one barfs all over her clean pajamas, etc., etc. and so on and so forth.  I said to someone once that going places in the car is one of my favorite things to do these days because sometimes that is the most personal space I get in 24 hours.

I guess it’s probably been more like five minutes since I started, but the eardrum shattering has begun in earnest, and I don’t think our landlords would like having to replace all the windows in our house because I had to type JUST ONE MORE PARAGRAPH.

Over and out.

I couldn’t leave on that note for the weekend, because although I have moments of doubt, overwhelmingly I know that I chose right.  My life is full of joy, tedium, tears, laughter, poopy diapers, slobber, hugs, and more.  It’s full of love.

And for every instant that makes me look back and feel failure there are a thousand more to remind me that I am not. Like this one.

Just a boy and a girl and a ball and an ordinary afternoon that I will always be glad I was there to see.

Worth it.

I try to focus my bleary eyes on the clock in the dim sprung-forward light. 7:24.

Uhhhnnnnn.  One hour until we have to be at school. I need to get in the shower.

Noah comes in, up for half an hour already.  Where is that puzzle he got yesterday?  The new one?  With the pictures on both sides?

Buh. Um. Rosie’s diaper bag? The car? I can’t remember.

He leaves for a minute, then tears back in.  Epiphany!  Mom! It’s in the snack basket!

Oh, ok, great.  Wait.  The…snack basket?  SHIT.  We’re supposed to bring snack for the class today.  SHIT.

I go into frantic fast forward mode. L enters the room to say his goodbyes for the day.

Nooooo.  Stay for a few more minutes.  Ten. Thirty. Eight hours. Don’t leave.

Bye.

Rosie please don’t fuss.  I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.  Ten.  Ok, I’ll skip the shower. Five.  Shhh.  Shhhhhhhhhhhh.

Noah get dressed.  Noah.  Get dressed.  NOAH. GET. DRESSED.

We are not going to make it. 

Finally, in the car, on the road.  We tear into the grocery store parking space.

If I left the kids in the car it would be so much faster. I can’t believe I even thought that.  I am a terrible person.

We unload.

Hmm, awkwardly carry 450 pound carseat/baby combo, or awkwardly carry heavy baby while one arming the shopping and transacting?  Decisions.

I opt for the one arm carry – Rosie is too adorable to keep cooped up in that seat anyway.  Fastest grocery trip ever.  Go.

God, THIS is one of those times that having money would make life easier.  Individual cookie packs for everyone!  Juice boxes all around!  Whatever is closest to the checkout aisles will do!  But no.  What are those things?  Do I care that I can’t read half the ingredients if they are $1.39 for a huge box? 

Noah carries half the load.  Rosie has drooled the Nile onto my shirt.  We stumble to the checkout.

Shit.

Hey, Dr. B.  Long time no see.  How are you?

Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask don’t -

Um, no, I’m not a doctor.  I, um, actually left medical school. But you know, now I have a new baby!  And I work at a half day preschool, so I get to be with my kids a lot, and it’s really great and everything and, well, we’re just on a frantic class snack run right now, ha ha!  Isn’t life crazy!  But yeah, I’m not there any more.  I sure had good preparation for it though!  I could kill me a chemistry MCAT section right now thanks to you!  So that’s good, right?

OMG shut UP.  Just shut your mouth and stop talking.

Yeah, it’s good to run into you, too.  Thanks, I think they’re pretty great.  Ok.  See you!

Die.  I am dying.  I am dead.

Bag the groceries.  Gotta get to school.  Hold hands in the parking lot.  Start the car.

Hey Dr. B.  Long time no see.

School is up ahead.  I put on the blinker.

Actually, I left medical school.

My class is gonna love this snack, Mom.

No, I’m not a doctor.

Mom, we made it on time!  Look at the clock Mom!  We are on time!  Mom!

I’m not a doctor.

I look at the clock.  8:28.

Why Is That Camera Following Me Around and Who Are Stacy and Clinton:

I am in desperate need of new clothes.  I have two pairs of jeans that are in heavy rotation: one pair that slide down my backside and reveal my skivvies every time I bend over, and one pair that spend the entire day devoted to slicing heavy indentions into my muffin tops.  Other than that I have sweatpants.  My wardrobe is grim.  However, our bank account does not support jean shopping at the moment, unless I want to spend an afternoon at the Last Chance Thrift pawing through moth ball smelling acid washed Guess? jeans with tapered legs and an upside down triangle on the back pocket.  Maybe I should just go for it and start a new retro trend with big white scrunchies and Hypercolor shirts while I’m at it.

Project 5K: The Dumbest Idea Of All Time:

The situation has become dire.  I made it to 2.5 miles (once) about a week and a half ago and then five days went by with no chance for running and the next run was awful.  The tunes were not grooving and I could barely make 2 miles.   I am mildly panicked about this, seeing as the race is in nine days, with a forecast of “Someone Better Start Building a Big Boat” for the next five.  I have no treadmill.  YOU GUYS.  Am I going to make it?  Are people going to throw rocks at me for being a 5K poseur? WILL THEY REVOKE MY T-SHIRT RIGHTS?

I am in need of motivation. And encouragement. And Valium.

I Love Rosie and Her Hamhock Legs:

Tonight when I was rocking Rosie to sleep she executed her newest trick of reaching up to her pacifier and pulling it out with a THWOCK, but then she took the maneuver to a whole new level by lodging it right in my open mouth.

Lessons learned: #1 Mouths should be kept closed around babies with access to them (a lesson which should already have been filed away after the Great Spit Up/Kiss Incident) and #2 It takes considerably longer for your baby to fall asleep if you are shaking them around with your jiggly belly laugh.

Fin.