Grateful Mondays--On time edition

I've been feeling better since I wrote this post. It's very refreshing to trust these days that I may experience some depression/anxiety once in awhile, but it's not TRAGEDY of TRAGEDIES and oh-woe-is-me-i'll-drink-my-sorrows-away, as it once was.  It's like, ok, I'm feeling funky today, let me call some friends and connect, wallow for two minutes, then get off my butt and do something. ANYTHING. The key word being "do", as in take action--go for a walk, finish the laundry, sit in a coffee shop and people-watch. And remember that for every moment of misery you may be feeling in the present, there's joy you felt at some point in your past, and you will feel it again in your future.  

The best remedy for me lately is being connected to the people in my life. Depression begets isolation begets more depression, and it's hard to break the cycle once you're in that downward spiral. The phone is an amazing tool once you've stopped convincing yourself that you hate talking to people on the phone (like I did). Even if it's a slightly awkward conversation, it still means something that you even tried. I had to practice for a long time, calling up random people I had just met, and saying, "Hi, it's Ariel. I'm just practicing. Ok, bye." click. Weird, I know, but those people understood. 

Here we go:

1. Zach is back from his business trip. Yay! So done with being a single mom--lasted one week. TONS of respect to single moms, dads, grandparents out there raising kids by themselves. Saints, ye be. 

2. Spoke at a meeting tonight. Felt like a 5th grade science student teaching particle physics to the Large Hadron Collider team, but whatever. Happy to see so many smiling faces and get 52930 hugs. 

3. Delicious donut from Satura Cakes. Made with ORGANIC sugar, whatever that counts for.

4. We're almost finished with the move. Good thing the leases overlapped a month because I am a Procrastinatrix-5000 and have yet to unpack half the boxes currently clogging our guest bedroom.

5. Addie is sleeping 11 hours at night. 11 hours! I'm doing a happy-robot dance right now, because I actually get eight hours of sleep again. Sleep, elusive sleep, I've missed you like a long-lost lover for 7 months. Reunited and it feels so good. 

6. Got my camera out again. No more capturing my daughter growing up with an iPhone camera! 

8 Months

Dear Adeline,

You became an 8-month old a few days ago. You're still pretty new in this world, I have boxes of cereal in the cupboard older than you. You, however, are so much tastier to nibble on.

Lately, you have this habit of returning the nibbles, attacking my upper arms, shoulders, and cheeks with your little sucker-fish mouth and leaving quarter-size hickeys on my skin. Then you laugh that hiccup-y laugh, arch your back, and launch yourself away from me like an Olympic diver, except there isn't a pool behind you, just hardwood floor, and it gives me a minor heart-attack every time you do this. I'm expecting the gray hairs any day. 

You have two bottom teeth, and a monster of an upper tooth peeking out a little more every day. Like your Grandpa Pereyo says, you can be my little staple remover now. You are a cheerio-holic, but you'll also devour avocado, steamed veg, pasta, and fruit...actually, you'll devour anything I give you, regardless of the fact that you only have three teeth. Zoe's hind leg is another of your favorite delicacies, even though it leaves the tongue rather hairy.

You're (finally) sleeping through the night, from about 8:30pm-7:00am. When I hear you cry out in the morning, I bring you into our bed, between your dad and I, and nurse you while I play with your wispy, light brown hair. Zoe usually makes her way up to the party by then, and I love to watch the miniature wrestling match that ensues. 

Your favorite book (to eat) is Go, Dog, Go. 

The other day, a man waved at you and you waved back. Since then you have been waving at everything, animate and inanimate. Hi, Zoe. Bye, dresser. We were listening to Sublime and you started to maniacally wave at what seemed like nothing, but perhaps you saw the ghost of Bradley Nowell, may he rest in peace. 

You are so very close to crawling, which is both thrilling and terrifying to your mother. I relied on your stationary pose to get housework done, and now every time I check up on you, you've made it onto your tummy and scooted back as far as the wall, stuck in the splits position and a sad face. If you see something you want three feet ahead of you, you end up crawling backwards and getting supremely agitated that you're retreating instead of reaching that remote/cell phone/whatever dangerous object you're not supposed to play with but we use to tempt you forward. 

You have been a interesting addition to our lives, little one. An addition that has changed us forever. Slapped us into selflessness, made your father and I work harder to keep our commitments of love and support. But you have already taught me more about life and love than I will probably ever teach you. We are blessed, so ineffably blessed, to have you in our lives. 

(Eskimo kisses)

Love, Mom

One more piece to the puzzle

This morning: 

Sister: (suddenly) Holy shit, have you ever watched Dog 101? 

Me: No...um..yeah! I have. Why?

Sister: They featured the Boston Terrier. 

Me: Cool. What did they say?

Sister: They're apparently renowned in the dog world for their farting. Because of their short snouts, they take in a lot of air when they eat and then they fart a lot. 

Me: Ah...that explains it then. Zoe can't help it! (pause) But why didn't Hanna's ever smell as bad?

Sister: Well, they explained the quantity of the farts, not the quality. There's something else going on that's making Zoe's farts so rank. 

Me: (silence) (running another list in my head of contributing forces to the deadly stench we gag to every day, shrugging, and continuing to drink my latte) 

Applying for Name Change

I googled "babe and the beast" to see if we were famous on the interwebs yet (ha!)--I have no idea how the google search results works other than it probably being based on popularity and page hits. So I wasn't really surprised that this site didn't come up. What DID come up was 1.) porn, 2.) baseball, and 3.) beer brewing. Huh. 

So I'm trying to think of a new name, and also considering changing the blog host (is that the proper term?) to Wordpress because it looks like I would have more versatility. Anyone else use Wordpress or another host? Please email or let me know. Thank you. 

Until then, I'll keep writing here.

Snapshot: Kewpie

We were shopping in Home Depot the other day and picked us up one of these kewpie dolls...

The Unbearable Heaviness of Being

Yes, a tad melodramatic on the title, but that's how I'm rollin' tonight. 

I am completely overwhelmed about being a parent. About being a grown-up (or pretending to be). I was so envious of the people having dinner and drinks on the sidewalk while I pushed the stroller past them for our evening stroll.  Zach and I have been arguing having discussions about our responsibilities as parents and partners. This is all a normal part of life. So WHY DO I FEEL LIKE SUCH A FUCK-UP?  Why can't I ever push my life beyond "ordinary" and into "extraordinary"? Because I procrastinate too much? Because I'm filled with fear of failure? Because my brain has disintegrated into dust? 

If you look around and all you see is shit, get your head out of your ass. 

I heard that on Friday night, and I laughed because it rang so true. 99.9999% of all the problems in my life derive from one source...me. I can't point the finger at any outside person, place, or thing for the way I'm feeling because I'm CHOOSING to feel this way. I'm in that place where you know you feel like shit, you know you want/need to change things in a big way, but you don't know what the first step is. Get back into school? Chop off my hair? Become a vegetarian? 

When I say those things, it reminds me of what I've done in the past. When I was unhappy, I would try to change the outside scenery. I'd move, or dye my hair. I changed my friends, home, occupation, persona. I would run, run, run. And I today I know that none of this works. It doesn't fix the unease gnawing inside of you. The dissatisfaction and restlessness. The self-loathing. As god-awful corny as it sounds, if you don't change from within, it doesn't matter if you have a big house, a beautiful family, a nice car, or an impressive career. You can't appreciate any of it because of how ugly you feel. Trust me, I know from experience. 

So here is my first little step--getting my thoughts back out there and holding myself accountable for change. Tomorrow, I'm going to help others. Be of service by watching a friend's daughter, picking my sister up from the train station, and going to a meeting with my girlfriend. 

Get out of self. 

"Grant that I may seek rather to comfort, than to be comforted--to understand, than to be understood--to love, than to be loved.  For it is by self-forgetting that ones finds..."

Moving Block

I haven't been wanting to write lately because of my foul mood this week. When I'm in my pit o'despair, I tend to isolate and avoid the things that make me happy (go figure). We're in the eye of the moving storm and I'm surrounded by boxes and Ikea crap and a massive pile of paraphernalia to drop off at Goodwill. It's so sad, whenever I bring out the tape-dispenser now to close up the boxes, Addie looks at me and her eyes start twitching, she cringes, and then she covers her ears in expectation of the loud ripping sound. Breaks your heart, it does. Thank god this will be over soon and we'll be in the house by next week, because we are so very sick of this apartment. Sick of waking up every hour to dogs barking outside, sick of sleeping on an air mattress in the living room, sick of our neighbors slamming their door as hard as possible, sick of not being able to flush the toilet at night because it will wake up Addie (gross, but necessary). 

So my apologies for the ranting and the lack of entries--I am trying to commit myself to at least three a week once we're in our new place and the internet is up. The birds will sing once more, Addie will sleep through the night, Zoe will frolic in the yard, Zach will delight in installing his patch panel to provide high-speed internet in every room, and I will feel creative again. 

xoxo, A.

Grateful (gritting teeth) Mondays

I knew that living in a house would be more work than an apartment, but moving in and making a few upgrades, all while hoisting a babe on my hip, is getting to me.  Also not helping that my car thermometer read 94 DEGREES outside when it was 4:30 in the afternoon as we were heading over THE HOUSE WITH NO AC to unpack some more. To make things even more super-duper-fun-time, I realized that I had forgotten the house keys just as we were arriving, and Addie was already getting fussy in the back, totally unsatisfied with her water bottle, giraffe, personal car keys, rattles, and book (too many choices, mayhaps?).  WIET H)PQQU# *U#@* WOEIH. That's what my head feels like right now. 

Zach is still over there (it's 10pm), wiring Cat-6 cable within the walls and being all manly with his dremmels and drills and full-on bodysuit/goggles/headlamp he wears to go underneath the house. God, I wish I could post this photo I just took of him right now, but I took it with my iphone* and am way too lazy to transfer it now. Later, though... 

Back to business. Let's see how the list goes...my mind is currently blank. 

1. There is a tub of Scharffenberger chocolate pudding from Whole Foods sitting in the fridge, but it won't be there for very long. 

2. Zoe and Addie love the new house. We sat in the backyard tonight as the sun was disappearing, listening to crickets and watching birds fly overhead. Playing with the grass and laughing. Zoe zooming across the driveway, spinning like a black fire-cracker, and then taking off again. 

3. My mother is visiting our family in Japan--she gave my grandfather and grandmother each a photo album of Adeline. I miss my family a lot, but I'm grateful that they are hanging in there (health-wise) and we will be visiting them at the end of the year. 

4. My order from Urban Outfitters came in the mail today and I'm in love with the canvas prints I bought for Addie's new room (she has a room! With butterflies and pink robots and a little sheepskin rug!).  Here's one of them. 

5. I got a shower in today. 

*I've realized that owning an iphone makes you waaaay too dependent on a single technological device--yes, it saves me from having to carry around an mp3 player, phone, planner, camera, Zagat guide, constellation map, and my ocarina, but it's also making me forget to take quality photos with my REAL camera...hence, the skimpiness of the cute pics lately. Here, I'll distract you with this July photo of Addie meditating/doing yoga: 

Namaste.

One Heckuva Baby-The Swearing Dilemma

Our daughter is going to be eight months old in three weeks. According to the books, she may start to crawl, pull herself up on the furniture, sit up, play peek-a-boo, and eat finger foods. Those are fun and all, but the most stirring change I have been witness to lately is her ability to observe and copy what we are doing.  She watches me clap my hands, and she clumsily claps hers. She watches me pet Zoe, and she tries ripping her ears off (almost the same). My favorite Simon Says so far is opening and closing my mouth like a fish, making a pop, pop, pop sound, which she ever so graciously indulges me in.  But this revelation of mimicry is also a bit troubling, because it makes the whole "being a role model"-thing REAL---that every action she sees us perform, her little brain synapses are strengthening and telling her to try the same. And that especially goes for language. 

Now, Zach and I are relatively intelligent folk. We throw in some SAT-level words in our day-to-day conversation, and Zach loves to babble differential equations to Addie when they sit on the couch. But we also swear...a LOT.  Not like every other word is fuck, but you have the usual shit, hell, asswipe peppered into daily conversation.  And we've come to the point where we know she is keenly listening to our speech patterns, and we have to act on curtailing, or banishing, the "bad" words altogether. Preferably before her first word is cocksucker. 

I know it can be done. We have perfectly polite conversations with nary a douchebag when we're talking to friends, colleagues, and the check-out person at Trader Joe's. But you know how your slang, your tone, your level of vocabulary, changes depending on the context of the situation and the people you're with? When Zach and I get together, there's just a natural inclination to swear--it adds color, depth...GRAVITAS, to the stories we tell each other at the end of the day.  

"That bad, troubled, drunk man swerved into my lane and almost killed me today." 

"Helen told me she and her husband are making love like jackrabbits to get pregnant again." 

Just doesn't have the same pizzazz, si? 

Of course, my fear is that we will have a child like the ones you see on Nanny 911 (or whatever the show is called with the British lady who looks like she gets kinky in the bedroom). The ones who bite people and kill cats and tell their parents to go fuck themselves. I've seen a five year old gleefully saying "shit, fuck, shit, fuck" in a sing-songy voice on that show. But I also have a feeling these children are the product of more then just swearing. 

At $.05/word, you owe me about..a Nintendo Wii. 

I know Adeline will eventually hear all the words we try to shield her from. And I'm torn, because I believe that words only have as much power as we give them.  So should we stop swearing altogether? Wouldn't it make the words more powerful and appealing for kids who often want to do exactly what they're told not to? Do we try our best to curb our language around her, and if she asks about it, tell her they are "adult words" and shouldn't be used with her peers? Or am I making WAY too much of this and just continue with our colorful conversations? I remember my Dad swearing intermittently; my mother, never. But I never ended up repeating his most popular phrase ("Get your head out of your ass.") to my 10-year old friends, and still don't to this day.

I guess there's only so much you can do as a parent to teach your child how to express herself without swearing, and then at some point, they're going to decide whether to incorporate that language into their speech.  I'm genuinely curious what other parents' experiences have been like regarding this subject---Do you have a curse jar you put money into when you're caught? Did you explain to your child that it's a "bad" word, or, that it's perfectly acceptable in certain situations, which they may discern when they're older? Did you curse when they were a baby, and now you're paying for it? 

Any funny stories with little ones and words? :) 

Grateful (Punctual) Mondays

I'm on time! Although it hasn't felt like a Monday since Zach stayed home from the office to finish a crazy deadline. I could go off about his job at the moment but it would take ten angry posts, and I'm supposed to be writing this to make happy, peaceful, Ariel, not rage-filled, protective-of-her-family, Ariel. So another time...

1.) I'm sitting next to a dirty diaper, which I could care less about, with Zach and a slumbering Zoe on the other side. I look over at them every night and smile and feel happy. 

2.) I was offered by five different friends to baby-sit Addie so I could actually get some housework and packing done without stopping every five minutes to entertain her. And I trust all of them to watch her. 

3.) We got the keys to the house we are renting this past weekend. Unbelievably lucky...like, holy-shit-how-did-we-get-so-lucky, to be able to afford renting this adorable house in a great location that is in close proximity to at least six or seven friends. And farmer's market. And the community center. And Trader Joe's and Recycle Books and Tiny Tots and the jogging trail! 

4.) Addie is sleeping. 'Nuff said. 

5.) Went to a meeting today and was able to catch up with good folk, and listen to fellow people in recovery talk about how drastically their lives have changed for the better. Amazing. 

Breathe in...breathe out. Nothing is so terrible in the world that I cannot enjoy this moment right now.  

Good night, A. 

At a recent wedding we went to.