Posts from — April 2009

While I was at my parents’ house last week, I picked up my mom’s copy of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, something I had been kind of avoiding prior to that point.  Avoiding, because I had heard about it from so many people who kept telling me how it made a huge difference in the way they ate, cooked, shopped for food, etc., and reading a book that was going to make me feel like making a big change in my life is about as high as “Color Code My Panty Drawer” on my list of priorities.  I am in much more of a fingers-in-the ears LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU kind of place these days.  Plus, I am not in the market for guilt.  I received a brand spankin’ new load of that on October 29 and Goodwill will not accept the gently used guilt I already have laying all over the place, not even when I tell them I don’t need a receipt for it.  And so in regards to this book, I have repeatedly said, in the nicest possible way:  kindly take your locally grown, organic, grass fed book and shove it.

But then one evening as I was disrobing for my nightly bath (quick moment of silence for being back in the Land of the Tubless.  ……………… ) I realized I was without reading material, and as I planned on soaking until I reached raisin fingered nirvana, I knew I would be needing something to occupy my mind for the duration. Enter The Book.

Here’s the thing.  That damn Barbara Kingsolver can write.  She’s like a witch with her voodoo words and spell casting chapters.  I can count on no hands the number of times I have made any kind of baked good from scratch.  My thumb is black as night.  It is a very real and sure fact that I will never in my life own a live chicken. But after half an hour with her book I’m flipping through her recipes, wondering if I’ve missed tomato planting season and calculating how much chicken wire I’ll need for my backyard coop.  INTERNET, THIS IS RIDICULOUS.

However, I am glad that I read this book.  Not only because of the urge I now feel to buy local food and perhaps try a tomato plant or two and just be less of a greedy food consumer asshole in general, but also because of the reason I feel that urge: stellar writing.  I closed the back cover of that book a changed person, all because of words on a page.  Words carefully and artfully chosen by someone who had a vision for crafting them into something that would make even the most ignorant among us (read: ME) give a whoop.  That’s powerful stuff right there, wouldn’t you say?

So the (now not so) dreaded book inspired me to more conscientiously consume my food.  But also?  It inspired me to write.

I’ll take my fingers out of my ears for that.

Mile 10: The Trip Begins

“Mom, are we in Georgia yet?”

(30 seconds later)

“How about now?”

(5 seconds)

“Now?”

(1 second)

“Now? Now? Now? Now? Now? Nownownownownow?”

Mile 30: Rosie Goes Down for the Count

Mile 100: Hilarity Ensues

“Mom, I see a tornado! APRIL FOOL’S!  Mom, I see a robot! APRIL FOOL’S!  Mom, I see a dinosaur! APRIL FOOL’S!  Mom, I see a family of giants! APRIL FOOL’S!!……”

Mile 101:  I Stop For Caffeine

Mile 190: Life’s Mysteries Explained

“Mom, I think I know how they made oceans.  Want me to tell you?  First they had to use machines to dig the holes really really REALLY big and then they used some very big things to make the holes bigger and then lots of guys brought the water and they had to use humongous trucks and then they poured the water in on the side and filled it up and then it went all the way to all the places and it was a LOT of water and that is how it is an ocean.  That is how they did it.”

(pause)

“I’m just jokin’ Mom, God made the oceans.”

Mile 220: Rosie Begins To Fuss And Noah Offers Her A Rock As Consolation:

(Note to people who will surely freak out about this: I was a totally safe driver while filming – camera was positioned while we were stopped and I had only to push a button in the same place as AC or radio controls are.)

Have a rock from racher on Vimeo.

Mile 299: I Give Noah the Camera So That He May Entertain Himself

Who needs portable DVD players from racher on Vimeo.

Tonight I was sitting at my parents’ kitchen table, shoveling spinach dip into my face by the Triscuit-full and having my first real moment of non-baby holding silence all day, when all of a sudden my loaded cracker snapped in half and tumbled back into the Tupperware dish and I thought DAMMIT ALL TO HELL I CAN’T EVEN EAT A FUCKING SNACK WITHOUT DISASTER and I flung the rest of the bite down in total disgust and stormed away.

Maybe I’m a little stressed out.

Operation Take A Break has been severely compromised so far this week.  I have not had the mental rest I’d hoped for, and my bath last night was about 2 degrees below Optimum Lobster Skin Conversion Temperature.  But before I get to all of that, let’s start with some positives of the week, shall we?  Look at me and my Bright Side of Life demeanor. I am like a freaking bundle of joy.

1. Rosie has stopped yelling. I cannot even stress to you how much BLISS this brings to my very countenance.  The constant cacophony to my eardrums was making my brain vibrate and drop IQ points by the day.  Also, the yelling has been replaced by an unbearably adorable (and quiet) “Ooooh.  Oooh!” that is delivered with the awe of someone who has just seen something totally amazing for the first time, like the aurora borealis.  Or a whale.  Or Jesus.  You get the point.  Anyway, this is a Very Good Thing.

2.  My mom bought me some clothes that fit me (THANKS MOM) and most of them are my pre-pregnancy size, HALLELUJAH.  Maybe this is not something I should advertise, as I know many people struggle mightily with post-baby weight loss and have issue with people whose natural metabolism does a whole lot of the work for them, but I AM HANGING BY A THREAD HERE PEOPLE, so please throw me a bone.  Stress: it does wonders for the muffin tops!

3.  I am not at my house, and so my kid free time does not involve cleaning or bill paying or organizing anything.  This is the part of the week that truly is a break, and I am grateful for that.

4.  Rosie rolled unassisted from her back to her stomach today and has done it several times since. She looked around at us with her wide mouthed grin afterwards as we clapped and cheered, pleased as punch.  That girl is a rock (and ROLL) star.

All of that would make for a pretty pleasant Spring Break, were it not for every single other thing that happened this week.  Like waiting so long for the car to come back from the mechanic’s on Monday that the trip had to be pushed back a day.  Or the $1300 bill that then came from said mechanic. Or the snow showers that were predicted for the entire route to Virginia. Or Noah’s 102 fever that popped up Monday night.  Or the snow showers that came true on the way over the mountains. Or Rosie’s uncanny ability to reach Over It mode when snowfall was hardest.  Or the shuddering the newly fixed car kept doing every time I braked.  Or the knocking noise coming from under the floorboards that even my mom in the passenger’s seat could feel.  Or the multiple evening wakings that Rosie executed last night.  Or the fact that my left boob hurts like it did when I had You Know What those two times.  Or the 102 fever that Noah still has tonight. Or the fact that on our last full day here we will be visiting the mechanic and the doctor.  Or the fact that none of my new clothes are going to fit after all the stress induced spinach dip eating I’m doing.

I think it wouldn’t feel so dire if I hadn’t already been so ready for a break when I packed my bags for this trip.  I have a terrible habit of getting my expectations way up for things that any rational person would know could easily go wrong in a million different ways.  I’m just wired that way, much to the chagrin of L, who often picks up the pieces when my hopes are dashed.

However, now I have blogged.  Look at that.  And the kids are still asleep. And I’m about to go boil the water for my bath.  So for now, things are looking up.

But I’m keeping a leash on my hopes, because the night is young, and there are many hours to go before the dawn.

Currently I am trying to pack bags for Rosie, Noah and myself so that we can get in the car and head up to my parents’ house in Virginia before the snow hits.  I would make some witty comment about how we’re going to a colder climate for spring break and how backwards that is, but let’s face it: a week “off” with a four year old and a five month old was never going to be a day on the beach anyway, so pretending like I would be lounging around soaking up rays if only I’d driven in the opposite direction is pretty far fetched.  I’m not sure I even remembered until just now that lounge could be a verb.

One of my goals for this trip (besides taking off my top layer of skin with as many baths as I can fit in) is to spend some time on this blog – updating pictures and other features – but also just writing.  Because as I have discovered in the past few weeks, blogging is most certainly not like riding a bike.  Muscle memory does not work for sentence crafting.  And as my free time has grown short, so have ideas for my posts.  What that says to me is that I don’t have any extra energy for noticing what’s remarkable about my every day existence.  Instead, it all runs together into a  primordial soup of mundane drudgery and I think, well, no one wants to hear about that.

So with the aid of hot water soaks, a few glasses of wine, and some grandparent time for the kids, hopefully some of the small things will come into focus again and I’ll be back to my paragraph-generating, prone to impertinence, CAPS LOCK-loving self.  I can’t wait.

Jillian Who?

You know what is a great stay-awake aid?  Stuffing your face.  Some afternoons last week I was so hungover from my baby binge the night before that I would just mindlessly wander into the kitchen and extract the nearest sugar fattilicious treat and cramcramcram.  Ten minutes later I would think, “Hmm, I’m hungry.  When’s the last time I ate?” and the cycle would repeat.  If for some reason Jillian Michaels is sitting around googling her name and reading all the blogs in which it appears, I am going to start carrying mace for the times when I am in a dark alley way by a gym or workout facility.

Next week I’ll be at my parents’ house for a few days with the two small people who follow me everywhere and I hope to take advantage of the modicum of free time I might get there and gingerly step back on the wobbly fitness wagon. Because I know how to have a Spring Break that is off the CHAIN.

I have not yet made it to Level 3 on the Shred due to the time out the 5K required, but I think I can pick back up at Level 2 maybe.  I’m probably good doing that even after a week (or two) of Klondike bars and sweet potato fries, right?  Guys?  Right?  Hello?

*CRICKETS*

______________________________________

This Is Not An Exaggeration, Not Even A Little Bit

(In the car)

Noah: Mom, you know what I -

Rosie: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Noah: Know what I -

Rosie: OOOHWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

Noah: Know what I want when -

Rosie: YYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

Noah: KnowwhatIwantwhenwegethome?

Rosie: OHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

Me: What, bud-

Rosie: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me: What buddy?

Rosie: GUUUHHHHHHHHHHYEEEEEEEEEEAAAHHHH

Noah: QUIET TIME

______________________________________

Things I Am Jonesing After

1. A bathtub and dishwasher forever and ever amen.

2. A decent pair of jeans (who am I kidding, I’d take any new clothing that fits my body)

3. A decent hair cut

4. A full night of sleep

5. Warm weather/non soggy weather

6. Earplugs (see above)

7. Time to myself

8. Time to myself

9. Also, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned TIME TO MYSELF

10. A Klondike bar.  Oh wait I have those.  BRB.

11. Washboard abs. (May not work out with #10)