Navigating the Mothership

Project 52:4 Simply Amazing

2012-01-29T21:02:00.002-06:00

Do you know what was also simply amazing from my dear Belly this week? When she was creatively making a person out of q-tips and crayons and random things on the table today and made sure to include a rectum. Haha.

We can thank Husband for teaching her all the body parts needed in digestion!

I can't wait until she busts out that term on some unsuspecting old lady. It will be kind of like the time I brought us all to the pediatrician last month for a thrush follow up and the check-in lady asked Bella what they were seeing the doctor about that day. Bella announced, clearly and loudly, "Well, Oliver has white spots in his mouth. He has shrush." Once she saw that she had everyone's attention, she went on, "And mommy's nipples are hurting and she needs some medicine for them." Cue laughter from all the staff, because WHAT? It's always so interesting to realize that she really is listening pretty much all the time.

P.S. - Turn for the worse in Battle Thrushtastica. Oliver developed a yeast diaper rash that keeps spreading, in spite of us doing preventative measures to avoid just that this whole time. I'm hoping it's just a dry skin thing, but it doesn't look good. Totally at my wit's end here because it seems we are battling the most resistant yeast possible. I am ready to give up and start formula and shove a g-damn piece of pizza in my mouth, but the diaper rash would still remain. So. I continue trudging along. I am weary of fighting this battle.

P.P.S. - Take probiotics. All of you. Now. SAVE YOURSELVES!

Feeling Better

2012-01-27T10:21:00.002-06:00

Guess who's now below her pre-pregnancy weight?

Hello, hip bones and cheekbones! It's been a while since I last saw you.

Turns out eating only low-carb vegetables, eggs, raw almonds, some meat, plain yogurt, the very occasional green apple and 1-2 small servings of gluten-free whole grains each day makes you lose weight. Like a lot of it. I am as astounded as you are.

****We interrupt this blog post with a very important message from Dietitian Laura: DO NOT GO ON THIS DIET FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES! IT IS NOT SUSTAINABLE! YOU WILL FEEL SAD AND DEPRIVED! CRASH DIETS = BAD NEWS, YO!***

In the midst of the frustrations of keeping up with all the thrush treatment steps and hard anti-candida diet, some good things have come out of this experience. Things like:

I'm recognizing that while I am generally functioning just fine, I have also been functioning at max capacity for a while. Like a loooong while. The tipping point from feeling good to feeling completely overwhelmed is always so close. And so I think some counseling sessions will help reduce stress overall. I'm beginning to suspect that I have some honest-to-God PTSD from my pregnancy. I think everyday about those puking months and how completely excruciating they were. I had some weird stomach thing in the middle of the night last week (I blame the raw almonds I was forcing myself to eat) and those hours of vomiting and feeling nauseous were so terrible that I am astonished that I felt like that for months. So while I think I will have some feelings of "Do I really need to see a therapist? Because I'm fine! Mostly." I know it will do me some good. And do the whole family some good. I'm predicting it will be short term, but very helpful.

Each night after Bella is asleep, Husband and I have been tackling the sterilization of the house (vinegaring toys, jumperoo, high chair, floors) + dishes + laundry pile up. We spend 20-30 minutes working hard and get it done. Somewhere around Day 5 of doing this (now on day 10, will likely go another 14 days), Husband turned to me and said, "You know, we should keep up with cleaning every night even after we are done with thrush treatment." And I agree. Much easier to tackle the house like this on a daily basis. And it's been kind of nice to have a truly CLEAN house. Like floors mopped daily kind of clean. (F**K no will we keep up steam mopping nightly, in case you were wondering.)

The diet changes have been hard and miserable, but interesting in their own way. I haven't had caffeine in over a week and only drink water and peppermint tea. And I've survived. It's still really hard to get up in the morning and know that I don't get anything to help me along, but I am surviving. I think a one coffee a day habit from now on will be my limit. And the no-sugar-even-fruit thing? Super weird, but I do notice that my hunger levels (i.e. blood sugar) don't jump around during the day and my teeth feel oddly fresh-from-the-dentist clean all the time. Since I'll be on this strict diet for another couple weeks and then s-l-o-w-l-y reintroduce more whole grains and fruit, I suspect my relationship with a big old decadent dessert each night might be a thing of the past. I always did want to come to a better balance with that; to be able to have a small portion of something delicious a few times a week and enjoy it without feeling deprived. Oh, but I do really miss having a little wine or fruit or dessert (and a thousand other things...like condiments.)

Other good things right now are that my milk supply has not suffered in the face of the reduced calories, Oliver got 3 new teeth last week and is an easier baby once more (only waking 1-3 times a night...not too bad!), and the postpartum doula that I hired has been very helpful. In fact, the postpartum doula is here right now with Bella while I'm typing this. I've had a few hours with either her or a babysitter each day and it's been great to get some rest and time to run around and do house stuff without my dear Bella's "help."

So things are looking up for the most part. I am trying to keep realistic with the thrush situation and know that even with doing every single thing imaginable, it might come back. And then I would wean and make the switch to formula. I suspect many of you are baffled by me not weaning and I understand. Even a lactation consultant asked me about weaning yesterday, as in she asked me to consider it as an option. But if I were to wean right now, I would still have to keep up with the preventative measures. And more than that - I'm just not ready to give up. I'm stubborn and I've put this much work into it so far and I want to see it through. Maybe it's a deluded Mama Bear hormone thing, too. And perhaps I might relook at this situation in 5 months or 5 years and wonder what the hell I was thinking and doing with all this thrush treatment insanity. I don't know. But for now, it's onward ho in the battle of the thrush.

And right now I feel like I'm winning.

Project 52:3 Full Spectrum Living

2012-01-22T09:15:00.000-06:00

Check out styleberry BLOG for links to more Project 52s.

This week has been a hard one. Really one of my toughest weeks so far. The thrush returning pushed me to breaking point and to be perfectly honest, I'm not in a very good place right now. Nothing terrible, but I think all of my situational problems ever since becoming pregnant has worn down my ability to cope and I'm now dealing with depression or maybe anxiety. I can't say for sure it's related to the postpartum hormone changes, but maybe. For the most part I would say that I'm just burned out.

I'll talk more about my feeeeeeelings in the future, I'm sure, but for now I'm doing what I can to keep chugging along. I'm hiring a postpartum doula to help out next week during the day since the intense thrush treatment ends up being an extra 100 or so steps a day, often adding up to an hour or two of work. Plus I can't rely on convenience foods or take out right now on my restricted diet (think Atkins, but more cruel). I feel utterly silly hiring a doula with a 6.5 month old, but I need help and I don't have family available to help nearby. But maybe it's not so silly: one of you suggested a postpartum doula and so did a therapist I called.

Yes, a therapist. I need to start some counseling. I need a place to dump all these hardships without worrying about sounding ungrateful for my life so that I can feel lighter and more free afterwards.

So if I'm not posting as often or commenting on your blogs or answering emails - you will know why. I'm sure I'll still be on twitter and Facebook here and there, though.

Thanks again to all those who commented on my last post. Like I told the midwife, I have an entire community online who give me so much support and helpful feedback. Thanks a million, peeps.

Thrush Round 4. Or is it 5? Or 10,343?

2012-01-16T21:05:00.001-06:00

Yeah.

That. Again. All over Oliver's mouth.

I cried a lot today. Especially because just this morning I had been thinking that we had finally, finally kicked it. I looked forward to just sitting on the floor and playing with the kids, rather than trying to keep Oliver's mouth off everything.

Is it possible to develop clinical-level depression or anxiety from yeast?

Gonna say it's quite possible.

So time to upgrade from what felt like a major effort into something other worldly in this here Battle Thrush. Everything a thrush-fighter could possibly do, I will be doing - diflucan for Oliver and I, grapefruit seed extract both externally and internally, vinegar rinses for nipples/laundry/entire house, probiotics for all, garlic and echinacea supplements, and on and on. And on. But the worst? The very worst of the worst? I have to restrict my diet in a big, bad ugly way. For a minumum of two weeks, but probs more like a month.

No sugar, no dairy, no wheat, no alcohol, no refined grains (bread, pasta, white rice), very little fruit (!!!!), no fermented food (vinegar, soy sauce), NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.

Anyway. Bummer day over here.

Expect a post about being back at pre-baby weight REAL soon, though.

PS - Just realized this does not go along with positive in 2012. So, uh...pretend you didn't see this.

Project 52:2 Celebrating Milestones

2012-01-15T11:17:00.000-06:00

Check out styleberry BLOG for links to more Project 52s.

I'm sure many of you have already stumbled across this link this week from the blog Momastery, but I'll share it here anyway: Don't Carpe Diem. The subject is similar to a post I wrote a couple months ago: Enjoy Every Minute...It All Goes So Fast. As a summary - both posts talk about the frustration of having little old ladies stop you to tell you to enjoy every single minute of parenting young children. We both describe the feelings of inadequacy that arise when you simply cannot do that. And then we both talk about those little moments that shine through in spite of the chaos and challenges. The Momastery author, Glennon, writes beautifully about the golden times, referring to them as Kairos moments. I really enjoyed her post, enough to skim through the 1,500 comments already posted when I read it a few days ago. I was particularly struck and interested in what the older parents and generations had to say.

Guess what? Many unabashedly stuck with the phrase: Enjoy Every Minute, It All Goes So Fast.

Now, I maintain that they can't remember how dang hard it is to be cripplingly sleep-deprived (still doing 2-3 wake ups a night over here!) or how physically demanding it can be with young children. Young Biggie, at 21 lbs, is simply going to hurt my back. There is no ergonomic expert to call into my office to help me out like there was for me back in 2006. But I do think there is a lot of wisdom in what the older generations have to say, even if it's not what I want to hear.

And so I kept myself open to those comments. I read what older parents said about big kids, big problems. I read what older women said about how they miss feeling pure love from their little ones and how their adult children are so distant from them now. I read about parents who had lost their children and the painful wisdom they acquired with their losses. And I read - and absolutely understood - what my fellow in-the-trenches moms are saying about exhaustion and how they are looking forward to reclaiming a little of one's self when the kids get a bit older.

I have thought on all those perspectives all week long, often with a feeling of discomfort, sometimes fear. Does my life have to go downhill once the kids are no longer young? Is it so terrible and heartbreaking to parent a teenager? Will my relationships with Bella and Oliver be distant and cold in 20, 30 or 50 years? Do I have to enjoy every moment now in order to cling to the happiness? Is this it? Is this the pinnacle of my life?

I think the answer to those questions (though I readily admit it is coming from a parent who is just starting her journey) is no. Or at least not necessarily. No, my life does not have to be downhill from here. No, it doesn't have to be purely terrible to parent a teenager. No, I don't have to accept a bad relationship with Bella and Oliver as we both age. And no, I still don't have to enjoy every single moment right now. It. Is. Impossible.

But is this time going to be one of the happiest of my life? Will I think back on these crazy days with nothing but fondness as I age? Will I want to stop other young moms with their kids in the grocery store in 2050? Will I actually tell them "Enjoy every minute...it will all go by so fast."

Yes, yes, yes, and NO.

Right now is really good and really hard. And I'm beginning to suspect that that will not really change for the rest of my life. Hard will change from being physical to emotional. But good moments will always be coming down the line, too. This does not have to be the pinnacle of my life, but it will be a bright spot.

I will listen to my elders and really try to enjoy these glory days. But I will also not beat myself up for not having the time of my life every day just because there are some "dark days" in my parenting future.

Because there really isn't any way to prepare for parenting a teenager or a grown adult any more than there is a way to prepare yourself for parenting in the first place. I couldn't stock up on sleep before I got pregnant to redeem now when I most need it. Similarly, I can't stock up on hugs and kisses and snuggles from Bella and Oliver to soothe me when they are having difficult days as teens. It doesn't work that way. I have to take each stage one day at a time, bask in the beautiful moments, and just try to get through it in the best way I can - finding some balance between raising my kids in a thoughtful way and maintaining my own happiness.

And so this week I celebrated Oliver and his two big milestones. I was extra cognizant of the fact that time is slipping through my fingers and this is most likely the last time I'll celebrate a first tooth or first crawl from a child of mine. I was in the moment again and again with him. It was important to document these milestones as this week's Project 52.

Pictures. Words. Now those I can stock up. In that way, I can be proactive.

When I am 80, I can look at back on my life and enjoy every last word and image, marveling at the fact that it all went by so fast.

Why Women Need Fat: BlogHer Book Club Review

2012-01-12T11:32:00.002-06:00

Two years ago I wrote the following about my postpartum body:

I've gone and lost my butt. It's like it just went and whoops! slid off the back of me and is perhaps lying on the floor in a grocery store somewhere. The butt loss, coupled with thinner legs means that I am wearing a smaller jeans size than I was pre-pregnancy...

Kind of weird, right? Except, it turns out it's not weird at all and in fact EXPECTED to happen to women after giving birth, at least according to Why Women Need Fat by William D. Lassek and Steven J. C. Gaulin, the latest book I read as part of the BlogHer Book Club. Unfortunately, bigger bellies and a few extra pounds are also expected after that first baby. Wamp, wamp.

Why Women Need Fat is a compilation of many years of research, both by the authors themselves and by others in the nutrition field. In the first part of the book, Lassek and Gaulin present the research and argue why a non-processed diet that includes plenty of omega-3 fatty acids is ideal. Unlike most research-heavy books, the authors then spell out how to apply this information to your diet and daily life. At the end they include an interesting, though complicated, way to figure out what your ideal weight is really supposed to be.

This book has an important message and provides compelling reasons about why we need to shift our diets away from processed food. In fact, it has inspired me to cut way back on tortilla chips and potato chips, something I was previously consuming a couple times a week. As a dietitian, I can fully step on board with the message they are sending - and I can assure you that is not always the case with diet books!

However, as someone with a research background, I found this book to be a bit sloppy. They would critize certain researchers for a myopic viewpoint and then turn around and do the same. I also think some editing to the book as a whole could have made for a more cohesive and smooth read.

I recommend this read for anyone interested in diet and nutrition and those searching for answers as to why they've gone and lost their bum after having a baby. Head over to Blogher's Book Club to see what other bloggers are saying and to read an excerpt.

This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are my own.

Our Love Story: Afterward

2012-01-10T21:57:00.003-06:00

We have finally reached the end of When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story. I can't believe I started this series in September. I was thinking it only took a couple months to finish and yet my archives show it's been over four months. Baby time is so crazy.

Links to all eleven chapters:

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

Chapter 11

So we are going to do this wrap-up-post interview style. In the first part I was interviewed by someone named Laura who bears an uncanny resemblance to yours truly. In the second part I interview Husband, a.k.a. Raj. He shall be referred to as Raj for the remainder of the post.

Random-Interview-Person-Coincidentally-Named-Laura Interviews Laura

Congratulations on finding your True Love 4Ever! You go girl. What made you want to write your love story up in the first place?
I wanted to write our love story out for a while, probably ever since I read Pioneer Woman's Black Heels to Tractor Wheels a couple years ago. Plus I loved the idea of having that time in our lives documented. But then every time I started writing it, I didn't get far. What stopped me was the fact that I couldn't accurately tell the story without including some stuff about my previous relationship and who wants to write a story about meeting the love of their life when it's all muddied up with stuff about your ex? But then I reminded myself that life and love is messy. So I wrote it anyway.

Any follow up on the ex situation?
The first time I ran into my ex was about 4 months after Raj and I began dating. I looked fabulous. The fact that I looked fabulous was pretty much awesome. Ha! At the time I just blew him off and ran away when he tried to talk to me. This was followed by me ignoring him at a few get-togethers that included my/our group of college friends. But after a year or so of this, I found I just wasn't THAT angry anymore - I was too happy in my relationship with Raj. Besides, was it really feasible to keep up the ignoring stuff for years? Or was I going to avoid any event that included my college friends? Also, I'm not the type to hold a grudge. He eventually apologized in person (probably one of the most uncomfortable moments of his life) and I know he feels horrible about what he did. At this point we are friends-of-a-sort and I honestly wish him well. 24-year-old Laura could not have said the same.

He is painted as a 100% "bad" guy in the story because from where I was standing at that time, he didn't have many redeeming qualities. But that was a snapshot in time and there are many shades of gray and I have my own share of responsibility in everything that went down in the six years I dated him. The fact that we are friends-of-a-sort now means that he might read thisstory or hear that I wrote it. That is okay with me, though I doubt he would want to get near this story with a ten foot pole.

So one must assume that everything was smooth sailing for you and Raj once you kissed for the first time. All the angst over your ex and that break up must have disappeared in a poof of love and joy!
HAHAHA. Yeah, uh...no. Perhaps I was over the guy rather quickly (or the version of the guy I had created in my head over the years), but the situation did not magically go away in a poof of smoke. Raj and I were very happy and having a blissful time dating, but there were moments where I was still in that crazy post-break up state. Raj was really patient with me as I worked through stuff, but also able to speak his mind.

The fact that I was literally a bit crazy at the time we began dating kind of worked for us. I was willing to throw caution to the wind and go against my normal reserved way of sloooowly getting to know someone. I was simply weird old me right from the start. And since Raj came to the table with his own ex baggage, we were able to talk through stuff together. I think my relationship with Raj was very healing in it's own way because we were both able to say, "Ah! So this is what a good relationship is supposed to be like!" And that helped put a lot of past experiences and relationships into perspective.

I like to think we are proof enough that everyone should have rebound relationships! (Snort.)

What role do you think that book 'He's Just Not That Into You' played into your relationship with Raj?
Can you believe that I might not have gone on another date with Raj if he'd cancelled that first date? I was feeling unsure of myself to the point where I was willing to take advice from a flippant little book very seriously. Wow. But as dumb as that book was, it did have a point and it did give me something to think about when I was reeling about life and relationships. And it did help me clearly see that Raj was putting forth a degree of effort that spelled out how much he was indeed into me.

How did you remember all the details of this story? It's creepy.
I have every single email that we wrote to each other so those really set up the structure. What really struck me about those emails, as I re-read them, was that they are not unlike emails we send to each other today - random, funny, weird. In addition to the emails, I used my planner from that year, a food diary that I kept at the time (often I can read what I ate at a meal and recall when/where/what I was feeling at the time), and picked Husband's and my sister's brains. And a lot of it I simply remember so vividly because that time was such a time of transition in my life. Things seemed to imprint more deeply during transition times (starting high school, starting college, when each kid was born). And maybe I have a better than average ability to recall minor details of life? Who knows. I'm creepy.

What was Raj's reaction to you writing this?
He enjoyed it a lot, because it brought so many forgotten details back. Spending all that time talking about our early relationship and how it unfolded brought us closer. In more ways than one, bah dum bum ching! Honestly though, it was so nice to have this project in my/our life at a time when we might have otherwise been really irritable with each other. There were times I would sit down to work on the story and feel annoyed about one minor thing or another (shocker - young children and new babies make marriages challenging!) but the act of working on the story made me forget the annoyance.

Were there parts of the story you wanted to change? Or did you change anything?
Did I want to change the story around? YES! I'm so embarrassing sometimes. That first email about Paris Hilton! My hang-ups about my ex! My general youngness and naivete! But I didn't change anything plot-wise.

How long did it take you to write up all 11 chapters?
I'd say each chapter took around 4-8 hours with me figuring out the timeline and writing it and editing it and then fact checking with Husband. I devoted an absurd amount of time to this story during a period of my life when time comes at such a premium and don't regret it a bit. It was SUCH a nice break from the day-to-day chaos to go back and re-live my single days. In thinking more about it, I may have been using it as a coping device.

Laura Interviews Raj

Describe the first time you noticed me.
I had seen you down the long halls but the first time I saw you face to face was when I was talking to [a co-worker] in the hallway. I was just messing around and did a jump-kick and you walked out of the women's restroom and I almost kicked you. [Interviewer's note: Yes. He said jump-kick.] I thought, "Oh! That must be the new girl that Matt's been talking about." I remember I thought your hair was really cute.

Did you ever purposefully try to run into me in the halls at work like I did?
Yeah. I would find excuses to go to your wing, hoping to see you. There was a room by your lab that I would use rarely to process samples. Somehow I found myself using that room a lot more. I would always look for you in the halls but never knew what I would talk about.

How did you feel right before our first date? Were you as nervous as me?
I was nervous. I wanted it to go well because we really seemed to connect on a lot of different levels. And you were weird-you know that's my biggest compliment-and that intrigued me. Plus, you were beautiful.

Why didn't you kiss me sooner on that first date? Like at the car wash?
I was just genuinely enjoying our time together. I think we've always had a fun and humorous dynamic in our conversations. I was happy even if we weren't kissing. Besides, I didn't want to make a bad move. You know? Like I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I wanted to be respectful. I wanted to treat you properly. I was trying hard to be a good guy.

When did you know you loved me?
I knew I was falling in love with you during the emailing. And on our first date I really felt like this was something that I didn't want to screw up. I knew I really liked you at that point.

Did you ever think I was too young?
No. I think everyone is kind of the same age once they pass 25.

I was 24. I had just turned 24, actually.
Oh yeah. But you were like a 25 year old. [Raj pauses in thought.] No wonder my sister thought you were so young!

Let's talk about that silly cold that almost had you cancelling our first date.
Knowing know what state you were in at that time, it really freaks me out to think you would have not gone out with me again. My entire life would be different. But I probably would have charmed you into going out with me again. [Interviewer agrees, noting that Raj seems to have an abundance of confidence in himself.]

Would you generally say you are ridiculous when it comes to colds?
[Laughs] Yeah. I don't like feeling uncomfortable. [Raj looks slightly ashamed, as well he should. Interviewer restrains herself from reminding him that she has had to avoid all cold medicines for the past 3.5 years, not to mention she has delivered two babies without pain medication, not to mention all the puking and the other pregnancy drama and ZOMG YOU DON'T LIKE FEELING UNCOMFORTABLE. Interviewer tells herself she will passively-aggressively include previous sentence in blog post and moves on to the final question.]

Anything else, old friend?
I just feel really lucky and fortunate that I found my best friend and she married me. [High fives exchanged.]

Project 52

2012-01-06T20:14:00.000-06:00

Maybe it's time for a chalkboard wall, eh?

So this is my new project. I was inspired by styleberry BLOG's Project 52 last year and decided to do it myself in 2012. Each week I will use one photograph and a corresponding word or phrase that fits the theme of parenting. At the end of the year I'll have 52 pages for a book. I love that the work gets spread out over a year - unlike the way Week in the Life ends up being a huge project once it's over. I also like that this project will make me pause in the midst of life's chaos and think about parenting. A forced moment of reflection each week will be a good thing and the resulting book of memories will be treasured.

(Today I appear to be dripping with sap, as though I stood under a maple tree. "Treasured"? FORGIVE! AM SICK!)

Now the backstory for this week's picture. It was definitely not the best picture, but it was the most representative. (And in case you were wondering what she is wearing that would be her "baby Oliver in a carrier" A.K.A. a stuffed dog in a maternity support belt - ha!) Bella has been very, how should I put this...TWO lately. She tests limits and doesn't listen and then does something naughty or hurts herself and ay yi yi! And then she does it again. So we say no or count to three or ask her to listen or remind her to stop whining or give time outs. Or maybe all of them at the same time. Again and again and again. It's tough on her and tough on us.

But with us staying disciplined with consistently disciplining her, I think we'll be better off in the long run. That the theory anyway! Oh, but it's soooooo hard. We had a long pediatrician appointment for Oliver this week and Bella was very good, but started getting very antsy at the end. This was understandable. So as an incentive I told her she could watch a Dora episode when we got home if she cooperated with me and listened and did what I asked as we were leaving. She listened carefully and agreed to do as I asked, but then she chose to run away from me - twice. Thus no Dora and tantrumming. I would have given anything for the 24 minutes of peace Dora would have brought, but instead I held firm and guess what? Now when I say "You need to listen and do what I ask you" she is following through more often than not.

And while we are on the topic of discipline, Husband and I have continued to be quite disciplined with our own goals. We stuck to non-processed foods this week and being productive as time and energy allowed. Thinking it will pay off for us in the long run, too. (Ah, but I WAAAANT a piece of crappy grocery store cake.)

Anyone else want to tackle this project this year?

Letters to Oliver: 6 Months

2012-01-06T19:29:00.000-06:00

Dear Oliver,

You are now six months old.

You are such a pretty little Biggie. Really, just gorgeous. MAYBE I'm a little biased (maybe), but as I sit here putting together this letter and going through all the pictures from the past month I find myself gazing at them - at you- in wonder. So chubby! So rosy-cheeked! So smiley! There's something soulful about your eyes. They have remained a mix of blue, green, hazel, gray, and brown. Your Grandma said they look like the Earth, and you know what? They kind of do. Earth eyes. Why not?

How about some stats? You are 21 pounds and 28 inches - I can't remember exactly where those fell percentile wise, but I believe above 90th for both. Your head remains enormous and off the charts and therefore you still have a noticeable soft spot. Your gigantic cranium comes from your father, as does your size and looks in general. I wanted a baby boy that resembled his daddy and here you are.

Your new skills include sitting up on your own...

Don't mind your sister in this picture.

and allllllllmost crawling. You spend half your day on all fours, getting ready to take off. You rock back and forth a few times, then collapse and repeat. In the meantime, you use a mix of rolling, wiggling, and army crawling to get where you want to go and you are remarkably quick. Just yesterday I set you down on a blanket and walked to the other side of the room to grab something and by the time I returned 20 seconds later, you had up and rolled yourself in the blanket and wiggled under a chair. The fact that I've begun to use safety gates for you seems crazy, but you really are so fast.

This week I was looking over the blog posts I wrote while I was pregnant with you because I wanted to see what I had said about your movement in utero. (I purposefully spared you any "in my womb" reference there as I picture you reading this at 25 and thinking, "MA! Gross!") I noted time and again how much movement I felt and it got to be quite painful in the last months. So it's not surprising that you are still so active. Even when someone holds you in their arms you are lunging and jumping and attempting to stand most of the time. Moving, moving, moving. At 21 pounds this can be quite the work out for whoever is holding you.

I speak from experience. Because even though you might act like you want to jump out of our arms, you still really love being held, even more so recently. And so I have been holding you, or putting you in the carrier, much of the day. You also notice when I leave and your face gets a little pouty, which is adorable. You love me, Biggie! You really love me!

Speaking of love, this month held a couple incidents where I realized just how deeply I've grown to love you. How very much you are an integral part of my world. The first was when we were at the pediatrician for a thrush follow up and they recommended Gentian Violet again. It's a purple dye and they wanted to administer it in the office. I agreed, even though we had some at home as I figured they would do a better job than I would when it came to applying it in your mouth. But I figured wrong. The nurse seemed to be using too much and it was getting everywhere and you were turning your head back and forth and sputtering and I was about to grab you and make a run for it. Someone was hurting my baby and HELL NO. But by the time I was going to stop the nurse, it was over and then I brought you home looking like this.

You were just fine, albeit ridiculous looking, but I was left feeling a little shaken. It had been hard to see you so upset and I felt badly that I had put you in that position in the first place. So we spent an extra cuddly afternoon and you threw up purple milk on me and in the end it all turned out okay.

Then yesterday there was another incident. We were back at the pediatrician's office for your 6 month check up and several factors collided in a way that gave me a feeling of cold fear. I had already been feeling a little anxious about a blue bruise on your bottom ("MA!") that had been there for two months. I had been monitoring it and had called about it previously, but the feedback was always just to watch it and call if it became worse. It never got worse, but it never got better. Then at the start of the appointment, the nurse initially weighed you at two pounds less than you had been at 4 months. The "weight loss", your bruise and the lingering thrush sent my imagination into overdrive. I mentioned my fears and the nurse practitioner we were seeing offered to run a blood test, just to be sure, and I agreed to have that done.

But thankfully, oh that word "thankful" seems so weak here, you were just fine. The re-weigh showed you had gained normally since 4 months and the NP called later with good news: not only did your blood work come back normal, but that bruise on your bum? A Mongolian Spot! A benign blue-tinted birthmark that is very common for much of the world, including those of East Indian descent. Another thing you get from your daddy's genes.

After getting that phone call, I broke down in tears. You were upstairs napping, but Bella, sweet, little 2.5-year-old Bella hugged me and patted my back and then went and got a kleenex and dried my tears. The relief I felt was tremendous and the tears were a reflection of that. You, your happiness, and your health are paramount to me and I just want the best for you.

So, I love you, Biggie. Truly, madly, and deeply.

Love,
Mama

Naptime Paralysis

2012-01-04T14:19:00.002-06:00

I actually wrote up a whole post with this same topic a year ago and then never posted because it seemed a little ridiculous. But now that I have two kids and only sporadic snippets of "me time", it's feeling more legit. [Read: I'm less scared that truly busy people and/or parents of many kids will throw things at me.] So here we go. Again.

I suffer from naptime paralysis. While I'm putting the kids down for their naps, I'm also half dreaming of all the awesome things I'm going to do during naptime. Actually, I half dream about this all day. There are a million and one things I want to do: exercise, read, blog, watch stupid TV, organize, and on and on. There are another thousand that I should do, things that make me feel great when they are completed: chores, scheduling appointments, cooking dinner, wash my hair...

You get it. You know it. Whether you have kids or not: FREE TIME! WHEEE!

But the moment that I know that a double nap is officially happening, I get all deer-in-the-headlightsy about it and freeze up. I can't remember what it was that I specifically wanted to do. So I go to my computer and dick around on the internet, and then when I realize that I spent 30 minutes doing that, I decide I shouldn't start anything because one of the kids might get up ANY minute and then I would be frustrated and...

I end up frustrated either way. Yesterday I tweeted about my naptime paralysis and Becca from Bejogram jokingly gave me list of things to do.

And honest to God I would LOVE to have someone dictate my free time like this. Like someone would demand that I go sew. Having someone else be the bossypants would take the pressure off me deciding which of 70 potential tasks I should work on. I might actually feel relaxed instead of spending naptime reading through my blog reader and twitter feed in a panicked way.

So in the interest of trying to lessen the paralysis, I'm thinking about picking ONE activity for each nap. I can no longer rely on a guaranteed naptime, let alone an extended period of time (today is a delightful and unexpected gift as both kids fell asleep within minutes of each other), but it happens often enough that I think having a plan in place might help me. And I think I'll keep it fun stuff so I can really savor that time.

How will I pick? I'll look at this not-at-all-lame list I'm making and pick something that I haven't done in recent days.

And then do it. Anyone who has learned about mindfulness gets the concept. When you are sewing, sew. When you are blogging, blog. When you are cleaning, clean. I need to stop that frantic EEEEEE buzzing nonsense that happens in my head during naptimes.

I'm taking my own advice starting now. I was going to use the rest of this naptime to make a to-do list and to clean up my organization binder (clearly letting my Type-A ways show here), but no. For this naptime? I'm blogging and blogging only.

Please tell me you know about naptime/free time paralysis, too, and tell me (1) what you WANT to use your freetime for and (2) what you actually do.

PS - Biggie just woke up after only 30 minutes and I'm finishing this up with him nursing. So really and truly, I will only be blogging during this naptime. THANK YOU for that, Biggie dear.

Health Kicky

2012-01-02T15:00:00.001-06:00

OOH WEE! Husband and I are feeling good in the hood as we've gone all health and lifestyle improvement kicky since the start of 2012. That means we've been doing it for a full 44 hours! How impressive is that?

(Shut it.)

But I really am feeling energized in a way I haven't felt since I was nesting up a storm last January. I've missed this feeling. It feels like life is much more doable and happy this way, even though I'm doing MORE rather than less.

(Again, 44 hours, I know, I know.)

Here's what we are up to:

Making to-do lists and then actually COMPLETING THEM. And not just the everyday tasks, but above and beyond things such as cleaning out cars and backing up months of photos.

Organizing, cleaning, sorting. This is pure heaven for me and Husband is also unusually motivated (or at least willing to go along with it), so I've been able to tackle some basement storage stuff. And when I say tackle, I mean deal with exactly 6 items, but forward motion, people. It's all about the forward motion.

Eating in a way that is highly irritating to hear about because it's all whole foods/organic/whatnots. But I know it will make us feel so much better. We'll keep up eating super pure for a couple weeks or so and then let Mr. Chipotle back into our lives on a weekly basis and Sir Papa John on a monthly basis. Something like that.

Exercising almost* daily, even if it's just walking. *Life happens, yo.

No alcohol. Again, just a few weeks of being teetotalers and then the plan will be to keep alcohol as a mostly* weekend thing. *Wine happens, yo.

I'm still consuming caffeine and have no intention of giving that up. Let's not get ridiculous. Girlfriend needs a vice.

Anyway, I'm feeling fantastic and positive and this is in spite of a real ding-dong horror show of a night last night since poor Biggie caught my father's cold over Christmas.

(Not that I'm blaming my dad.)

(Totally blaming my dad.)

After writing up 2011 in review a few days ago, I realized that if I keep waiting for life to calm down before tackling some things, I might be waiting a loooooooong time. This doesn't mean I've given up hope that life will settle a bit, but no more eating gross and drinking a glass of wine every night while spending all free time zoning out to TV. That is making me feel even worse. So I'm taking my life off hold. My new plan is to do things to make myself feel better and more energetic NOW. And Husband is of the exact same mindset at the exact same time so we are rolling with it.

Anyone else drinking the lifestyle change koolaid right now? It's SO 2012.

2011 In Review

2011-12-31T11:45:00.002-06:00

2008, 2009, and 2010

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?
Parented not one, but TWO children.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
My resolutions from last year were to be more organized and better at time management. I also wanted to complete my Day in the Life project from 2010 and work on my photography skills. I was doing beautifully on the organization/time management goal until my third trimester got really ugly starting in April and then, of course, Oliver was born in July. Since then life has been about managing the moment-to-moment kid stuff and I can only dream of getting organized and having time to manage. Maybe I can tackle some things once life settles down. Yes, I'm still clinging to the hope that life will not continue to feel this chaotic and out of my control. I did finish the Day in the Life project for 2010 just before Oliver was born, but there was no working on photography skills beyond checking out a book on exposure from the library and reading it. I think I did decently with my resolutions given the circumstances.

2012 resolutions:

Give up diet soda. OH, I WEEP! But it's time. It's way out of line with my other eating beliefs and I know it makes my body feel kind of gross. I will allow myself 13 diet cokes during the year (one a month and one to grow on) to whoop it up on occasion.
Be more positive. Husband and I both want to work on this. I have always struggled with negativity (my fatal flaw, perhaps), but it's especially challenging when you are operating on little sleep. So we now have code words to say to each other when we are getting bogged down with what's wrong. There are many things right. I need to see those and not the poopy stuff.
There are a million other projects that I'd like to work on, but I'm trying to be more realistic about my non-time. Maybe that's a resoution in itself? Be realistic about this stage in life and embrace my limited personal time in a meaningful way (read: not only turning to Netflix between the hours of 8-10 pm).

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Me! My sister. My friend, Holly.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No.

5. What places did you visit?
*Changed this to places since there won't be all that much country traveling for several years*
We went to San Diego in February that turned into a longer stay when a major blizzard hit the midwest. Then we went ot Florida in November to visit Husband's parents.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?
The feeling that my head is above water on a regular basis. A house better suited to a family with two small children. A thrush-free existence.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
July 1 - Biggie is born!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
If I were to point to a single event, then I would say delivering Oliver without pain medication. And to that point, and perhaps more so than the actual birthing experience, I am proud of how hard I worked to prepare myself for another med-free birth - all those hours of Hypnobabies and affirmations. But on a more macro level, I'm really proud of my parenting. It's not perfect and I make mistakes everyday, but I think I do a fab job of parenting mindfully.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I keep going back and forth between saying "keeping up with stuff" and "being okay with not keeping up with stuff." That sort of confusion is the story of my life right now.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I would say that this past year has been the most challenging one of my life on a physical level. There was the nasty third trimester and then the hemmorrhage/anemia/thrush recovery. Now I would say I'm quite healthy, I just don't necessarily feel that way since I'm incredibly sleep deprived and out of shape/overweight.

11. What was the best thing you bought? I really adore my iPhone and use it in many ways.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Both kids, of course. Bella in many ways - her incredible grasp on language, her self-motivation to get potty trained and most notably her ability to adapt to her little brother joining the family. She amazes me daily, perhaps even hourly. And sweet little Ollie surprises us with his physical strength every day and his mellow, happy personality shines through. Husband gets kudos for going after a new job that was better suited to his talents and abilities. Same with my sister and her new job!

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
This question makes me depressed.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Same old, same old: Household stuff (bills, mortgage, groceries, whatnot), rental-property stuff, and savings. And I suppose some new baby things, too.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Having Oliver is the obvious answer, but the truth is that I felt really yucky leading up to his birth and then I felt even worse afterwards. So I only had about 5 minutes of excitement there. So what made me really, really excited was when I emerged from the fog that was postpartum anemia to find that I was (1) not pregnant and (2) the mother of two beautiful children. Does that make sense? Also: running again was great.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011?
Someone Like You by Adele. I feel like I don't even have a say in it, it was simply so EVERYWHERE. Also: Moves Like Jagger.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier is some ways - not puking! New baby! Sadder in others, but maybe I'm just way sleepy.
b) thinner or fatter? Fatter. Wamp, wamp.
c) richer or poorer? Richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Practically speaking, there really wasn't the time/physical ability/energy to do MORE things, but I do wish I had done a better job keeping in touch with friends and also blogging the last couple months.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Ruminating and feeling negative over things that were out of my control.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With my side of the family here at our place.

21. Did you fall in love in 2011?
Oh yes, with my little man.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
Friday Night Lights. We also enjoyed Greek (random) and I like that New Girl show.

23. What was the best book you read?
Would you believe that I have read about 60 books this year in spite of the crazy? Thank you iPhone and nursing! My favorite would have to be Girl in Translation by Jean Kwok.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Bella on the xylophone is something to behold. I have been fond of the Ingrid Michealson and Regina Spektor stations on Pandora, too.

26. What did you want and get?
To have a successful med-free delivery and a healthy baby.

27. What did you want and not get?
To not hemorrhage after birth and to have an easy recovery. To move to a new house.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
I liked Crazy, Stupid Love.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
My birthday was kind of a downer this year, but it ended better than it started. I had two last minute doctor appointments (pediatrian & midwives) for thrush reasons - this was when the ped said "thrush is not a problem" - and then my siblings were in town and they came over for dinner. I turned 31.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More sleep, an easier pregnancy, and an easier recovery. But stepping back and looking at the big picture - it was all worth it and the tough stuff from this year will be but a memory someday.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
Disasterous. Can I just go naked? I swear I would feel more confident that way versus trying to fit my random shaped bod into clothes.

32. What kept you sane?
Husband. Bella making me laugh. Oliver laughing. Help from family when I needed it most. Cats. Sleep. Coffee. For sure coffee.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Ryan Gosling for a second year in a row. Oh, and I had a brief moment of lust for Tim Riggins.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Giant FAIL on following political issues.

35. Who did you miss?
Husband and I have both agreed that we miss each other, although that is better now that we have reclaimed our kid-free hours at night.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
Oliver!

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.
2011 was so overwhelming in so many ways and I feel like I'm still in the middle of learning several life lessons. This past year was such a blur. But I guess it's something along the line of "Doing the best you can is okay."

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
This seemed very involved and I just googled "Beautiful Life" and Ace of Base popped up. Perfecto!

Take a walk in the park when you feel down
There's so many things there
that's gonna lift you up
See the nature in bloom a laughing child
Such a dream, oooh

It's a beautiful life, oh oh ooo
It's a beautiful life, oh oh ooo
It's a beautiful life, oh oh ooo
I just wanna be here beside you
I just wanna be here beside you

Oh, the Horror!

2011-12-30T07:34:00.001-06:00

A Husband and Wife.

A Living Social deal for a night at an inn along the river.

Grandparents to stay with the kids.

The inn? CREEEEEEEEPY in the best possible way.

30 minutes until check-out and an iPhone as a video camera.

Here is what happened.

[You may need to click over to the blog to see video.]

REDRUM!

The Beast That is Yeast

2011-12-21T16:16:00.000-06:00

Can I ugly vent for a minute? Whine my head off even though my problems are actually quite lovely problems to have in the grand scheme of things? Yes? Yes.

Wait, first let me show you the kids' picture with Santa that I totally didn't put any forethought into, hence the everyday clothes.

PERFECTION! Rare double-looking-AND-smiling perfection!

And now back to the task at hand.

So: thrush. Oliver and I had it bad at two weeks postpartum and it was really horrible for me to deal with, especially since I was having a rough postpartum recovery (side note: I regret not getting the blood transfusion and feeling better much sooner, but it's a moot point now as I'm fine either way. Hindsight is 20/20, yadda yadda.) The thrush caused breastfeeding to be insanely painful and gave me a host of other problems such as nipple neuritis and blanching. Thankfully, Oliver never seemed that affected other than having a mouth that looked like it was covered with yucky white stuff.

As I sought treatment, I quickly realized that most pediatricians and even midwives know very little about effective treatment for thrush. Only the lactation consultants knew what the deal was and, unfortunately, they aren't the ones with the Rx pads. So I cobbled together a treatment plan using all of my handy dandy new-found knowledge via the internet and - did a million and one things both for treatment and for prevention of thrush. Oof, that sucked, mostly for time-consuming reasons. But the thrush was improving - huzzah!

At some point, however, the treatment for thrush was making me go crazy and so I stepped back and was relieved when nothing terrible happened. I really wanted to write a post called "I Got 99 Problems but the Thrush Ain't One", which was obviously going to be awesome and full of fist pumps and HOLLA!, but I was never quite convinced that the thrush was gone. My nipples still seemed kind of irritated at times and Oliver sometimes had suspicious looking white spots in his mouth, but I chalked it up to just being overly paranoid about thrush. Kind of like how I will never really enjoy hotel stays after The Great Bed Bug Incident of 2006 because I always think I MAYBE see something that could indicate bed begs. I can never quite quell that internal voice that says, "But maybe...?"

Regardless, my problems shifted from thrush to Oliver's sleeping drama so I mostly put it out of my mind. That is until we arrived in Florida last month and after one day in the humid warm weather we saw that Oliver's mouth was covered in that white stuff. We tried to deny it was thrush and pretended it was spit-up, but it persisted and my nipples started hurting and bleeding and the jig was up. Thrush had come on vacation. So I made the calls to the pediatrician and then had to jump through a few hoops to secure a prescription for Nystatin down in Florida, but we got it figured out. It sucked to do all that extra laundry and nipple ointmenting and Oliver medicine-ing on vacation, but it was much more doable than the first time around when I was so weak and anemic. Besides, I tried to tell myself that it was weather related and we would get home to dry, cold Minnesota and POOF! the thrush would disappear. For good measure, however, I did do a 3-day course of gentian violet when we arrived home and crossed my fingers that it was enough.

To make this already too long story short: it was not enough. My less aggressive treatment this time meant that the thrush persisted. I wasn't obsessively hand-washing or applying ointment following every feeding or laundering each and everything Oliver's mouth touched. This was a mistake.

And so now I need to go back to being aggressive, which really just means obsessive, about treating the thrush. The first step involves seeing a nurse practitioner who is also a lactation consultant. For anyone who has been in my thrush-y shoes, you KNOW what a coup this is because normally you have to make multiple calls to get thrush treated - to the pediatrician, to the lactation consultants, and to the midwives. For once I will get one stop shopping! After step one comes steps 2-100: all the many, many things I need to do to kill/prevent thrush. This seems like Mission Impossible now that I have a very-mobile-almost-crawling baby who shoves everything he can get his cute little paws on into his mouth. Basically he is a non-stop contaminating machine. But you gotta do what you gotta do. So I will throw away all those toys that he's been chewing on that I can't boil for 20 minutes or launder (goodbye over $100 in toys...) I will launder everything his mouth/breastmilk touches, even though that probably means washing my sheets EVERYDAY in addition to a thousand other things. I will put my super-expensive sports bras through the dryer, which is exactly what you are not supposed to do with super-expensive sports bras. I will do all these things, plus many more that you can read about here. And once I don't see/feel any signs of thrush then I must continue to do these things for at least a week.

And that is my major whine. Dudes, I don't have the time let alone anything resembling the energy for all of this. It puts such a damper on my quality of life. All I see are things I should be washing or sterilizing or possibly throwing away- the bathmat, the jumperoo, a book - because Oliver's mouth touched it. It doesn't end and it doesn't stop and all of this work might still not be enough. That is the point where I want to weep: when I think that I might be doing all of this and it might not be enough.

But life goes on and we'll figure it out. Currently, neither Ollie nor I are particularly bothered by the thrush and there are plenty of good, happy things going on to outweigh the bad. This too, shall pass. But MAN could I use an easy stretch of time that doesn't involve drama of the vomiting, anemia, thrush, or sleep-deprivation variety. I know that none of these problems are that bad, but they still suuuuuuuuuck.

Yeastily Yours in Thrushville,
The Mothership

/End rant and muchos gracias for letting me blog vent.

In Which I Think The Earth Revolves Around the Moon

2011-12-13T16:26:00.001-06:00

There have been several times over the past couple months where I have asked myself, "Am I depressed? I think I must be depressed." The exhaustion, the inability to focus, the feeling that easy tasks are Herculean efforts...

And then I remember that I am horribly sleep deprived and no amount of Prozac will help with that. And so I go back to whatever challenging task that lays before me (putting frozen pizza in the oven, finding matching socks for Bella, boiling every toy that the baby's mouth touches - shout out to my friend, thrush!) and just keep plodding forward. Plod, plod, plod. There has been much plodding.

The extra ridiculous thing is that I go through this exact same scenario again and again...Am I depressed? I must be depressed! I feel so dreary and listless and "FOOL! YOU ARE SLEEP DEPRIVED! AND YOU JUST KEEP FORGETTING IT!"

It's like 50 First Dates. With myself.

True story - I was trying to explain to Bella in general terms about why it gets darker earlier and I was seriously at a loss about how that worked. I couldn't remember if the earth moved around the sun or maybe the moon? And that happened every day? Or every year? And HOLY SHIT I AM SO STUPID RIGHT NOW.

But getting a few nights with a 4-hour stretch of sleep in the past week has reminded me that life, in fact, is actually not that hard with a modicum of sleep under my belt. I am able to do more than just the barest of bare minimum and can entertain thoughts of getting actual things outside of mothering done again. Things like blogging, cooking, organizing, and exercising. Things that make me feel calm and centered and like me.

So life is getting better and I owe it all to one of the best things in the world: sleep. Biggie continues to wake a few times a night despite gentle sleep training but that's OK for now*. I will take getting up three times a night over 10. The best thing is that those 4-hour stretches will become 5, 6, dare-I-say 7 or 8 hours someday and I'll be freaking manic with the amount of rest I will be getting. Actually, that's not the best thing. The best thing is that I will be able to enjoy this great life that I am living without a big hazy cloud of sleepy stupids hanging over me. Days will feel less like intense uphill climbs and more like pleasurable hikes that include a few challenging parts, a few boring parts, and a lot of exhilarating live-in-the-moment parts.

*This is not my opinion at 1 AM or 4 AM. OH HO HO NO. If you are a person with easy pregnancies and babies who sleep 12-hours-a-night starting at 2-weeks-old, you best stay far away from me at those times. Haha, just kidding!

(Not kidding. HISS!)

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 11)

2011-12-06T19:54:00.002-06:00

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Raj started the car and we drove away from his Garage-Mahal and headed to the car wash. There was a lull in the conversation as we passed though the quiet neighborhoods of Northeast Minneapolis but, strangely, it didn't feel uncomfortable. As I sat there, with my toasty bum and frozen feet, I wondered - was he thinking about kissing me?

A couple of minutes later we arrived at the gas station, which was shockingly bright compared to the rest of the closed businesses around it. Raj drove around the back and punched in the code for the car wash. Soon we were in a white world of suds; the only noise was the dull roar of the brushes overhead and on the sides of the car.

We turned to each other in our seats. Was he going to do it right away? But as Raj began to talk, that question was answered. We laughed about our co-workers regular antics in the breakroom and wondered if any of them had noticed something was up with us. I felt my insides squealing as Raj acknowledged the "us"-ness of our situation. But while we talked, my mind kept shouting at me: When is he going to kiss me? Was he just going to lean in and...? Or will he ask me first?

I continued to wait for the kiss as we talked and laughed. Waiting, waiting, waiting...

Teen magazine circa '89 would have me gently laying a hand on his forearm to show my interest, but I wasn't sure I could pull off that kind of thing without looking like a complete tool. Maybe I should just lean over and initiate a kiss myself? Because I was not going to be able to tolerate this much longer. The anticipation might actually kill me.

But then the garage door in front of us opened up. Car wash complete. Please pull forward.

Well. Maybe Raj hadn't taken me to the car wash in some master plan to kiss me. Sometimes a car wash is just a car wash. The flecks of water outside my window danced towards the roof as we drove away. But...why hadn't he kissed me? Did he not want to kiss me?

My chance to dwell and obsess was thankfully interrupted when we once again found ourselves asking what we should do next. The option of ending the date was noticeably not in the mix even though the neon numbers on Raj's dashboard told me it was getting late - 10:30 pm on a school night. We debated the options - a bar? Another restaurant for dessert? A coffee shop?

"You could come to my place," I finally offered, trying to sound nonchalant and not like I was trying to lure him to my den. Because it wasn't like I wanted to bring him there just to make out with him. Well, it was like that. But I had enough self-control not to do that. Maybe.

"Sounds good to me," Raj said.

"Alright. It's a plan, man," I said. We smiled at each other, co-conspirators in whatever this thing was. As we drove along the dark highway, I thought that it was at times like this that being a grown up was seriously as awesome as you imagined it would be when you were younger.

Twenty minutes later we were walking up the steps to the front door of my apartment building. I unlocked the front door and the act of bringing him into my personal space caused the scary early-date feeling come over me once again. I felt shy, nervous, exposed. We headed up the interior stairs to my apartment and I felt unbearably conscious of each step I took since Raj was directly behind me. I hoped he wasn't looking at my butt, but what else would he be seeing? I turned my head to talk to him over my shoulder, solving that little problem.

Team Gray greeted us at the door. Toonses sneered at the sight of Raj and he stalked back to the bedroom to sleep, but Stevie, per usual, wanted to be right in the middle of things. I quickly scanned my apartment, making sure I hadn't missed anything and that Stevie hadn't dragged my dirty laundry out into the living room. It looked fine, but suddenly certain things were sticking out - my Freddy Prinze VHS movies had spotlights on them and that stupid "He's Just Not That Into You" book stood out like a sore thumb on my bookshelf. I crossed my fingers that he wouldn't peruse my books. I found myself wishing I had a more adult apartment, one with tasteful books and decorations. I could offer him a glass of sherry. Or something.

"Want something to drink?" I asked, taking his coat and laying it on the back of a kitchen chair. I took off my own jean jacket and pashmina and then suddenly felt ridiculous in my low-cut tank.

"Sure, what do you have?" Raj asked. I looked in my fridge.

"Um...milk. Diet coke. A bottle of gin. We could have gin and tonics, if you don't mind diet tonic water?" I told him.

"Gin & tonic? Sure." I inexpertly fixed us two gin and tonics, although I certainly wasn't needing to be drinking any more tonight. I carried the glasses into the living room where Raj was sitting on the loveseat next to Stevie. I handed Raj his drink and then pushed Stevie off the loveseat with my free hand. I sat down next to Raj, feeling overly formal in my own apartment.

"Cheers!" he toasted me. We clinked glasses and I took a sip. Whoa. Strong. I set it on the coffee table. Stevie hopped up onto the couch again and settled in between us. Raj pet him so I decided to let Stevie stay.

For the next thirty minutes Raj and I sat together on the loveseat and continued talking. But there was a very different feeling between us than there had been in the restaurant or even the car. We weren't in chairs, separated by a table. We were on a small, soft loveseat. Separated by a fat gray cat.

I moved Stevie to the floor.

Our positions shifted a bit and our legs were touching. I felt that prickly, tingly feeling and I was incredibly conscious of the point where our legs were touching. Raj knew we were touching right? Was it on purpose?

At some point the talking died away. I looked at Raj. He looked back at me. The atmosphere was practically buzzing.

Another beat passed. Thump, thump, thump. Were our faces closer together?

And then they definitely were as we fell into a kiss. And all that thinking that my mind had been doing all night finally stopped.

I didn't know it yet but this was my last first kiss...

THE END
(finally)

* * * * *

The first date led to a second date exactly one week later, on the day Raj returned from his trip to South Carolina. We went to dinner at Big Bowl (I had chicken pad thai) and went to see the very romantic "Team America." (Fuck yeah!) That second date led to a third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh date...all in the same week.

Raj and I embarked on what we called "The Accelerated Plan" because everything just happened very quickly for us. We were committed to each other from the start. We took our first trip out of town a mere month and a half after our first date and it was around that time that our dating status was revealed at the workplace. Four months in, we exchanged "I love you"s after Raj accidentally blurted it out one day in a totally random way. He had been consciously trying not to say it for weeks and I had been in the same position, always having to put forth great effort not to throw it in after every sentence: "Want to watch TV? I LOVE YOU!"

We moved in together at the beginning of 2006 and shortly after got life insurance at Raj's insistence, because he didn't want me to be left paying a mortgage I couldn't afford on my own should something happen. That, more than a diamond ring perhaps, gave me no doubt about the road on which we were headed. On February 2, 2007 "Raj" proposed on the top flight of stairs in our townhome. We were married that same year, on December 8, on a beach in Mexico. And then you know the rest.

I think I'll do one last "Afterward" post for this love story series that will include Husband's perspective on our story and a few other things that I want to say. Let me know if you have any questions for him/me and I'll include those in that post.

Picture Time!

My Apartment Building in 2004 - I lived in the upper left unit.

My Living Room with the yellow loveseat (site of our first kiss!) and Stevie the cat.

"Raj" building the Garage-Mahal. Note the jeans.

The (almost) finished Garage-Mahal

Raj's disaster of an apartment during our early dating days. It stayed like this until after Raj and I had moved into our current townhome. He could never understand why I couldn't get excited about living there...

The tank I wore on our first date (this picture was from the following Spring.)

Our first picture together, a few weeks into dating. The funny thing is that I always thought a different picture, one taken of us during the early Spring of 2005 was our first picture together and I was disappointed that we didn't have anything from earlier on. But then as I was putting together this story and looking through the old pictures on Husband's computer, I realized that this was actually our first picture. It makes me so happy to actually have a picture of those very, very early days.

This video is the one I made to surprise "Raj" with the news that we were expecting Bella, but it includes a lot of photos from our earlier days so I thought I'd include it here.

Our Life from Laura on Vimeo.

[Insert clever title here.]

2011-12-05T07:40:00.001-06:00

Hey-oh!

November was...erm...uh...

November is over! HOORAY!

Yeah, it was not my favorite. Nothing capital B sort of bad, but it was two scoops of frustrating with a cherry on top. Some bloggable reasons, most not. And really most of my wah-wah-life-is-soooo-hard probs are likely due to the fact that I've traveled deep into the land of no sleep. Biggie did get his sleeping under control for about 3 days in early November, but that feels very long ago and far away. And then he completely gave up sleeping in any sort of a multi-hour stretch during our recent (VERY VERY LONG) trip to Florida so now we are doing some sleep training. I'm hopeful.

[Insert your own personal thoughts on sleep training HERE.]

There are some that think starting solids would help the sleep drama (cough-Husband-cough), but I'm stubbornly waiting until Biggie is 6 months, even though Biggie is OBSESSED with trying to eat our food/drink our drinks and he seems hungry all the time. Maybe it would help him sleep better. Or maybe not.

[Insert your own personal thoughts on when a baby should start solids HERE.]

Isn't this why parenting is fun? Because you can be all over the map with your parenting choices? WHEEE!

[Insert other thoughts here, maybe thoughts about unicorns and Ryan Gosling. I will let you decide. It will further your creative thinking.]

And while I'm updating you on my life, I would like to share the happy news that my BFF Thrush is back. He came on vacation! Dude just loves warm weather and my nipples. Which is reasonable, really.

[Insert long, boring paragraph about why I hate thrush so much, ZOMG more wah-wah-mah-life-is-soooo-hard sort of nonsense. And add a cup of vinegar to it, because that helps kill the thrush.]

One of my long-time favorite bloggers, Linda from All & Sundry, recently wrote this about a family trip.

I’m glad to be out of the reality of the visit and looking back on the handful of photos I took that show some of the brightest moments. That is often the magic of photography, don’t you think? Whether it’s a blurry badly-framed Instagram image or a gorgeous high-end SLR photo, sometimes you can choose to focus on the spirit of what you captured, and let the rest of it go.

Yes. Yes, yes, a thousands times yes to that. So how about some pictures from the beach?

PS - Gah, sorry about the irritating amount of time it's taken me to finish the last chapter of the love story. Lack of time, writing mojo, etc. Soon...

The More Things Change...

2011-11-30T09:52:00.000-06:00

the more they stay the same.

Sanibel 2009

Sanibel 2011

And would you believe that I didn't wear the same outfit on purpose? Thine wardrobe, tis lame.

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 10)

2011-11-19T13:48:00.000-06:00

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

Chapter 8
Chapter 9

Chapter 10

I was standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom, checking out my make-up, when the phone rang. I glanced down at the display: it was Raj.

I stared at the face in the mirror as the phone cheerfully played it's song. This was it. What would it be?

I pressed the green button to answer his call.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hey! How are you doing?" Raj asked.

I wasn't sure how to act. Could I allow myself to me warm and happy? It felt like everything hung in the balance of what Raj was about to say to me.

"Good, fine. How are you doing?" I answered cautiously while I chanted Please don't mess this up, please don't mess this up in my head. I hated the thought that I would have to be done with him if he canceled on me today over something as minor as a head cold. But I needed to be smarter when it came to dating. Self-preservation was essential. If he canceled, I would do the right thing and walk away from what would surely be a doomed romance.

Ah shit, though. Would that really be the right thing to do?

"You know, I feel so much better after sleeping for a bit," Raj said. "I think I am just exhausted after all the manual labor I did building my garage this weekend. I'm really sorry that I left you hanging. Are you still up for going out tonight?"

The relief I felt was enormous. There would be no need for me to decide whether or not to reschedule with Raj. He was into me.

"Yes, I'm still up for tonight," I said with a smile. "I am very much up for tonight."

We hashed out the details of what we would do. We would grab something to eat and then possibly catch the late showing of I Heart Huckabees. We decided that he would pick me up around 7:30 pm. Now that the date was definitely on, my already nervous stomach took it up a notch. I felt ill. Oh, why did I have to feel so painfully nervous about tonight?

I moved about my apartment, stacking magazines neatly and loading the dishwasher, as the last bit of light in the overcast sky disappeared. Soon it was pitch black outside. My black boots clicked on the wood floor as I scurried around and I questioned if this tidying was really necessary. Was he going to come up when he picked me up? Or, more importantly, would he come up after the date? Wow. This was all very...real. The cats circled around me, getting in my way; they seemed to have picked up on my mood.

Once the apartment looked clean, I went back to my bedroom to re-check my appearance. I carefully inspected myself from head to toe, questioning my outfit for the millionth time. I had decided to go with my light gray Express pants paired with a sexy black tank that had a plunging cross-over neckline. My jean jacket and a pink wool pashmina would be my only nod to the frigid weather. Obviously, looking good was far, FAR more important than feeling warm on a night like tonight. After critically critiquing my appearance, I adjusted my boobs to be more cleavagey. Then I adjusted them back to be less cleavagey. What was my cleavage game plan here?

I was incredibly, horribly nervous. My stomach clenched, angry that I'd barely been able to eat that day. I went to the kitchen and forced down a granola bar, my jaw chewing mechanically. Then I brushed my teeth again. I looked at the clock: I still had an hour to go. So I began to make phone calls - to my friends, my mom, my sister - anything to pass the time and also to get second, third and fourth opinions on my outfit. Well, I left my mom out of outfit critiquing. I didn't think she would be able to get on board with showcased cleavage and weather-inappropriate outerwear. So I called her simply for nerve calming.

Finally, an entire decade later, the buzzer sounded and I stopped breathing. He was downstairs. Oh God. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. I forced myself to breathe and reminded myself that this was something I wanted. A good thing! This first date was simply an initial hurdle to jump over. I put my jean jacket on and wrapped my pink pashmina loosely around my neck. I grabbed my small black bag on the coffee table, called out "Wish me luck!" to the cats and left my apartment, locking the door behind me.

I threw the keys in my bag and made my way down the first set of interior stairs. As I reached the landing to go down the final several steps, I realized that I was walking right into a prom date scenario. Raj would be able to see me coming down step by step through the window in the door. I felt exposed and on display. Please don't let me wipe out on these stupid narrow stairs like I've done so many other times. I reached the final step without making a fool of myself and could finally see Raj's face. We immediately smiled at each other through the window.

Willing the nausea away, I pulled the heavy front door open.

"Hey!" Raj said, his voice warm. "You look great."

Butterflies. Many of them. Fluttering, flying, and beating the hell out of my already delicate stomach.

"You look mighty fine, too," I said with a grin and immediately kicked myself for my tendency to try to be extra funny when I was nervous. Mighty fine? But he really did look mighty fine. He was wearing black dress pants, a dark red button-down shirt, black shoes and a black wool coat. I was a bit surprised and flattered that he had dressed up, especially after seeing him in against-dress-code-jeans so often at work.

We made small talk as we walked to his car, commenting on how cold it had become in the past week. Raj opened the passenger car door for me - fancy! - and in the seconds it took him to walk around to his side of the car I forced myself to take a couple deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Then he opened his car door and got inside.

Any calm I had gained from those deep breaths left me as his coat sleeve brushed against my arm. Were all consoles this tiny? Or was it a Subaru thing? We seemed so close to each other. I could feel my heart racing from us nearly touching, which was ridiculous. I tried to take the rational approach with myself: what was the big deal? We were two people, in a car together, going to a restaurant.

It didn't work. Because every cell in my body was telling me that this was all a very big deal.

"So where to?" Raj asked me as he started the car.

"Oh, let's see. An Uptown place makes the most sense, right?" Raj nodded in agreement - the movie was playing in Uptown. I rattled off a few restaurant suggestions casually, as though they were all just occurring to me, when really I'd come up with ideas in advance.

We decided on La Bodega, a tapas restaurant not far from my apartment. The thought of eating in front of Raj was terrifying - I was such a clumsy, awkward eater, and it was only worse when I was nervous - but there was no way I would be the girl who ate very little on a date. Besides, I really did love food. I just didn't love having to eat food on first dates.

We drove the few blocks to the restaurant and found a parking spot on the street. We walked quickly into the restaurant, our heads down against the harsh wind. The warmth of the restaurant felt wonderful after that bone chilling moment outside. I could picture my mom shaking her head at my light coat on this below-freezing night.

Raj and I stood next to each other as we waited at the unmanned hostess station. I took a quick glance at him from the corner of my eye; I was so attracted to him. The butterflies threatened a revolt once more. I forced myself to focus on the small talk that Raj and I were making as we waited to be seated. But while we talked, my mind continued it's background chatter. I wondered if others would think we were a couple. Or if our first-dateness was obvious. Just then, the hostess returned to her station and was able to seat us immediately at a cozy table in the corner. She gave us our food menus and a drink menu and left us to look them over.

"Want to order a bottle of wine?" Raj asked me. It was a Monday night. I had to be at work early the next day. I'd barely eaten that day. There was only one answer.

"Sure!" I said enthusiastically. I looked over the wine list, having no clue. I usually picked whatever glass of red wine was the cheapest.

"What do you think? Should we do a red wine?" Raj asked.

"Yes. I like red wine. Um..." I looked down at the wine list feeling really young and unsure which wine would be the best choice. The least expensive one? A mid-priced one? One with a hint of summer's dew and overtones of tobacco? Yeah, I was clueless. "You know what? I don't know a ton about wine. You pick."

"OK," Raj said agreeably. He scanned through the choices. "How about the Marques de Caceres? Have you had a Rioja before?" He pointed to a wine midway down on the list. "I've had it before. It's good."

"Great!" I pronounced after briefly glancing at the description. I smiled at him, glad to have that decided without much input from me. I took a moment to look around. The atmosphere of the restaurant was perfect for a date: small tables, dim lights and seductive Latin music playing at just the right volume. I looked back at Raj. I hoped I was covering up how damn freaked out I was. Just then, the server arrived to take our drink order, saving me from trying to come up with a conversation topic for the next minute at least.

As the server walked away to get our bottle of wine, Raj turned his gaze back to me. When we looked at each other, it felt intense to the point where I could barely maintain eye contact. Just two people, sitting at a table, getting dinner at a restaurant, I reminded myself.

"Should we decide what to order?" I asked. I looked down at the menu in front of me, trying to pick out foods that would be the least awkward to eat. I mentally crossed off foods that might get stuck in my teeth or be overly chewy. We debated on what tapas we wanted to order and Raj was all for trying an assortment. I was glad to find that Raj was a fun and adventurous eater, daily peanut butter & jelly sandwiches aside. I added that to the mental file of Raj facts. The server brought over the wine, which she had Raj sample before pouring us each a full glass. I picked up my glass, thankful both for having something to do with my hands and for the chance to calm my nerves through wine.

But even without the wine, I would have begun to relax. Raj was easy to talk to and our conversation flowed easily, going in all directions. He told me about building his huge garage - the Garage-Mahal he called it - and how he was completely renovating his duplex himself. I told him about how I loved to read and dreamed of someday being a writer. We talked of our childhoods and how we were raised. I told him about growing up in Fargo and he told me about growing up in Virginia. We talked about our siblings and our families. He told me about going to the College of William and Mary in the early 90s. I told him that when he had been boozing it up at college parties, I had been bopping around at Junior High dances.

And we talked about previous partners. I confessed to Raj that I had recently been in a relationship that had ended badly. As I was telling him about it, I questioned if that was a huge mistake, but somehow I couldn't not tell him. It seemed important that he know where I was coming from.

And Raj himself had a story to tell. He had been engaged a couple years ago and had broken the engagement when he realized it was a mistake. Uncharacteristically, I wasn't bothered to learn this about Raj. I was curious, but not threatened or jealous. Maybe it was something with the sincere and open way Raj told me or maybe it was because I was a bit relieved to find he had his own baggage.

Then the conversation moved away from our exes and we talked about places we had traveled to and compared our personal versions of a dream vacation.

An hour passed and then two and it dawned on me that I was having a really good time. The butterflies remained, but felt less violent and more of a pleasant-I-have-a-major-crush variety. Although it no longer seemed like crush was the right word. I just really liked Raj. A lot. He was not only meeting my expectations, but exceeding them. He had passed my not-at-all-subtle deal breaker questions with flying colors and he was interesting, confident, and had the right combination of similar and different interests from me. Tonight, at least what had gone down so far, was officially the best first date I had ever been on.

We continued to linger at the restaurant, finishing the bottle of wine as the server cleared away mostly empty plates. Eventually we found ourselves sitting at an empty table. Our conversation had slowed down from the quick pace we had kept up the past two and a half hours.

"Should we get out of here?" Raj asked.

"Yes." I replied, pulling my cell phone out of my bag to check the time. "Uh oh. The movie started 15 minutes ago."

"Oh shit!" Raj said with a smile, clearly not really caring. "Well, what should we do?"

I smiled at the realization that Raj didn't want this date to end either. We debated what to do next. Go to a bar? A coffee shop? Then Raj said, "Hey, wanna see my garage?"

His garage? I laughed, and said "Sure. Let's go see the Garage-Mahal."

I put my jacket and scarf on and while the walk back to the car was painfully cold, I was less aware of it than I had been a few hours earlier. The wine, the excitement, the fact that this was all going so very well, it made the late October wind feel far less brutal. We got into his car and drove down the highway to his place.

Our conversation picked back up. It seemed like there was so much to say, entire lifetimes to catch up on. Raj made me laugh during a story, as he had many time that night, and as I turned to look at him, I once again felt my heart thump at his close proximity to me.

And then I noticed something a little off. I was experiencing a sensation that once I identified it, had me feeling extremely alarmed. I couldn't have...could I? My mind raced as I searched for an answer to why I was suddenly feeling like I had peed my pants.

"Do you want me to turn down the seat warmers?" Raj asked suddenly and glanced over at me.

"The what?" Seat warmers? What did that mean?

"You know, seat warmers," he pointed to the buttons between the two bucket seats. "I can turn them to a lower setting. I put them on high since it's so cold out."

Dude. DUDE. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from bursting out laughing. Seat warmers! And not, in fact, pants peeing!

"You know, I could maybe use them on a lower heat," I said, wanting to tell him what had just happened, but having just enough sense to know that I should wait to share that little tidbit of information. A few minutes later we arrived at Raj's duplex in Northeast Minneapolis, bladder function fully intact.

He turned down the alley and pulled up next to his Garage-Mahal. I ooh and aahed over it, since Raj was clearly so proud of it, having done much of the construction himself, although to me it was pretty much just a huge two-story garage. As he told me various facts about garage construction, I found myself tuning him out a bit and turning into my own thoughts. What exactly what was going to happen next? Were we going to go to his house? He had a roommate - would that roommate be there? That would be weird...

My internal questions were interrupted by Raj. "OK, we saw my garage. I would invite you inside, but my place is a mess with all the construction. There isn't really anywhere to sit and my roommate is home, so it's probably best if we go somewhere else."

"That's fine," I answered. We began to debate once more what we should do. Suddenly Raj grabbed a receipt that was sitting on his dash and said, "You want to get a car wash with me? I have one that I need to use before it expires tomorrow."

"A car wash?" I asked laughingly. "Why not?"

"Awesome," Raj gave me a sly grin. "Hey, I just need to hop out and move that tarp back over the lumber. The wind must have moved it. This will just take me a second."

I sat in the running car, enjoying my butt heat courtesy of the seat warmers, and watched Raj yank on a gigantic dirty tarp in his dress clothes. A car wash was such a crazy thing to do on a first date, but Raj was kind of crazy. In such a good way. And really, a car wash seemed kind of romantic. We would be in our own little world, unable to see anything but suds around us and we would be talking and he could lean in and...

Was he going to kiss me in the car wash? Was that his master plan? A first kiss in a car wash. That would be...spectacular.

And then that excited-sick feeling came over me in a powerful wave. He was going to kiss me. Soon. Very soon.

To be continued...

Bella-isms

2011-11-14T21:06:00.003-06:00

Bella, when not making me shake my fist at the sky in frustration over her not napping (see Exhibit A),

EXHIBIT A

cracks me up all the time. Her chatterbox ways combined with her two-year-old way of thinking makes for delightful moments.

Brace yourself, I'm about to go Reader's Digest on you. But what can you do? Kids! They say the darndest things.

Bella was wearing a new pair of pajama pants she got from G.G. - her great-grandma. She walked over to where I was folding clothes and said, "See these?" and gestured to her pants. She continued, "These are not good pants. They go into my bottom," and turned around to show me her bum. Aw...baby's first wedgie.

She asked to check my ears and upon inspecting them, announced they were full of "racks and junk."

I got Oliver up from his nap and changed his clothes and brought him to where Bella and I were playing. She studied him with a serious look on her face before turning to me and announcing, "I don't like those pants." I asked her why she didn't like them and she responded, "They have a problem." Then I asked her what the problem was and she pointed to the rolled cuff and said, "You rolled them. That's a problem."

On Halloween Husband's work hosted a little pizza party for his team and their spouses & children. As we pulled up to his large building, Bella gasped and said, "Look! A castle!" The thrills didn't end there - she got to wear her lion costume and roar at people and then we ate pizza and cookies and she loved it. The next day she asked where daddy was and I, knowing she knew he was at work, asked her a question back: "Where do you think Daddy is?" Her answer: "Daddy is at his castle. He's eating pizza with his friends."

And now that I've typed this all up I'm thinking she's the cutest thing in the world and I want to scoop her up out of bed and cuddle with her and THAT'S HOW THEY GET YOU, THOSE TODDLERS. They go super cute on you just when you are at your wit's end.

Goodbye Today. You Were Stinky.

2011-11-13T21:23:00.001-06:00

Oh friends. I wish I had it in me to post something substantial, but I don't. Today was remarkably exhausting between the 20 lb baby that insisted on being held yet kept trying to launch himself out of my arms (baby dude is STRONG) and the nap-refusing toddler who made it her mission to test every single boundary she could. It was one thing after another all day long.

Then, just for fun, Bella locked herself in her bedroom during I'm-gonna-strip-naked-and-yell-about-being-tired-instead-of-napping time and picking the lock from the outside took a good 30 minutes. I was surprisingly calm and was preparing myself to call the fire department or some other help-y type folks but I didn't have to - whew! The handle finally unlocked and we continued on our battle-filled day.

Did I mention I'm sans Husband right now? A fluke of scheduling has him doing back-to-back week-long trips (he was home 36 hours in between San Fran & Switzerland). We are not fans. At all. And Bella really seems to go nuts every time he leaves - lots of acting out and limit testing and sleep disruptions. It makes sense - she's only two and it interrupts her usual routine. But ZING ZOW does it make my solo parenting days not just a little harder, but A LOT harder.

The good news is that my MIL is coming this evening and my mom helped out for a few days last week, so I am not dealing with this on my own for two full weeks. And even better news - no more travel until March. At least no more business travel. There will be family travel to Florida very soon and I'm quite excited to see all the glorious Christmas lawn decorations that Florida has to offer. Plus: kid help, beaches, oceans, and some beautiful free time. This year will be extra, extra, SUPER good because I won't be vomiting. Really, I find most things are better when you are not vomiting.

How about some happiness? Here is young Oliver laughing his gigantic head off at some peekaboo antics. Isn't my jumbo baby cute?

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

2011-11-08T10:16:00.000-06:00

BIGGIE IS FINALLY SLEEPING!

I have a whole slew of blog posts that I want to write, but as I crawl out from the month of intense (and I mean INTENSE) sleep deprivation, I will have to make do with bullet points.

We made a few changes that I'm not feeling like detailing right now, but one of the big ones was that Oliver is now sleeping in a crib (still in our room). Which means every time I check on him, I find him in some variation of this:

Biggie is not interested in the back to sleep campaign.

I still be so tired, even though I've had a few nights with only 2 wake-ups instead of 10. I know I'll catch up, but in the meantime zzzzzzzzzzzzz. I'm still simple, stupid, lazy-like and prone to saying things like, "I still be so tired."

Now that I'm sleeping in stretches longer than a couple hours, I am having more dreams/remembering more dreams. Including one I tweeted about where Tim Riggins from Friday Night Lights (WATCH IT, STAT) was my cousin and yet he was definitely pursuing me, uh, romantically, we'll say. Now, friends, what would you do in this situation? Two of my twitter/bloggy buddies say yes. I'm afraid I would say yes, too. Tim Riggins: he defies the laws of morality.

Now here is something annoying. Pretty much anytime I have a hot guy dream, my brain is always pestering me with the nagging thought that I'm forgetting someone. In that Tim Riggins dream, someone asked me if I was dating anyone and I said, "I feel like I should say yes, but I can't think of why I should say yes." I remain married ALL THE TIME, even if it's on a vague level. This degree of faithfulness in marriage is over the top, right? Like, can't I enjoy making out with my cousin Tim Riggins without feeling like I'm cheating?

This post has taken a turn for the creepy.

What else? Oh, clothes. I'm still trying to buy clothes, but PAIN IN THE BUTT, yo! And speaking of my butt, I devoted 15 precious minutes of my free time to stand in the underwear section at Target trying to figure out what underwear to buy. It seemed my choices were to dig through bins of sexy-lady panties only to find size XL or XS or to buy a multi-pack of sherbet-colored bloomers. I want neither. I want cheap-ish, cotton, not old-lady-looking black unders. Why is this so hard? I ended up going the multi-pack of sherbet boy shorts route (after starting at the many, many choices) and they are no good. They are too big (vanity sizing rampant in underwear now, too?) and they expose the top of my ass crack. Do I have a particularly tall ass crack? If so, it took me 31 years to arrive at that fact.

In addition to my tall ass crack, I have found other weirdly shaped features on my body to further complicate my shopping troubles. Like I have smaller shoulders so the larger shirts I buy to accommodate my chest get all baggy in the armpit. I have baggy armpit issues and that makes me feel alone in the world. And after trying on several pairs of jeans at Target & Old Navy, I finally bought an ON pair to last me until I get back to my normal weight/figure, but those only fit for 10 minutes before falling off my butt from being too big. I WEEP.

This is clearly the best I could do when showing you my outfit.

Even though my clothes are generally not fitting me the way I want them to, I am looking a little better and more put together. And that inspires me to put on a little make-up most days, too. Eyelash curling is the best, yes?

But looking a little better isn't quite enough for me. I have grown very tired of my postpartum body with it's floppy, squishy belly. This past month has been a bust when it comes to exercise and eating right. I tried to cut myself a break because I was near death with not sleeping, but it can't continue. So I'm going to set some goals and parameters and whatnot and blog about it. But the oomph to get going is lacking right now.

Let's end this with a Bella-ism. We were looking at the mail and she saw this lady in a Kohl's ad.

Bella looked at her and asked me, "Why that lady so sad, mama?" And I said that I didn't know why she was sad and asked Bella what she thought. And Bella said, "I think she's sad because her clothes are too tight." And then I pooped my pants laughing.

Now you commenters on my last post will be happy to know I'm off to work on my love story. I wonder if I'm going to be done with Raj forever after his little cold thing. Seems likely.

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 9)

2011-11-07T08:02:00.000-06:00

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

I walked away from Raj's empty lab with a sick feeling in my stomach. I felt horrible. What was he going to think? Why did that meeting have to run later than it ever had before? I hated being 5 minutes late for an appointment; this was in another realm entirely.

I returned to my lab and sent off a quick email of apology and explanation to Raj. Then I left, disappointed that the day had ended the way it had. I checked my email again at home. Not surprisingly, he hadn't written. And he hadn't written when I checked after tap class. Or after I ate dinner. Or after I watched TV for a while. And still not after I got ready for bed.

The rock in my stomach remained. Ugh. What was he thinking?

It was 10 pm. Normally I would be going to bed by now, but I felt far too anxious to sleep. I reviewed what had happened in my head again. Raj would be OK with it once he read my email, right? And if he wasn't...then I guess he wasn't the kind of guy I wanted to date. Oh, but I really hoped he would be OK with it so that he could continue to be the kind of guy I wanted to date.

I decided I would stay up a little bit longer and keep checking my email. Surely he would get home soon from his flag football game or whatever he ended up doing after the game. I mindlessly flipped through an US Weekly before tossing it aside. I went online to check out that new Friendster website my friend Lindsey had told me about. It seemed like a lot of work - how did you get a picture on it? And you had to make a profile thing? Too complex. Although the stalker factor was certainly intriguing.

Email check: nothing. I decided to go to bed and try to get some sleep even though my anxious state seemed like it would make it a challenge. However, I was a 9-hours-of-beauty-sleep kind of girl and the 7 AM alarm was always quite painful. Better to try to sleep, at least. Before closing my computer, I refreshed my hotmail one last time.

One new message! My heart skipped a beat at the title of his email, but then I instantly knew it was all going to be okay.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: Stood up in the breakroom.
Date: Wed 10/13/04 10:34 PM

Just kidding.

Hey, I'll stop by your lab tomorrow or come find me when you can. I'll only
be in in the morning then I have to get back for the garage construction,
etc.

Until tomorrow...

raj

I let out the breath I hadn't realized that I had been holding. I bit my lower lip and smiled to myself. His closing said it all.

* * * * *

On Friday I stood in my lab working on labeling test tubes. I wore a new outfit I had recently bought at my beloved Express: light gray pants along with a fitted black sweater. As nervous as I was about seeing Raj, I felt pretty darn good about how I was looking. I hadn't had much in the way of extra money to go shopping, but it had been pleasantly necessary after dropping a dress size recently. Suddenly my "London Pride" - the beer belly I'd acquired during my semester abroad - wasn't there. Or at least not quite as there. I smiled wryly, realizing that all my ragercize and excitement over Raj had been what helped me finally drop the excess college weight that had refused to budge the last few years.

I felt jumpy at the thought that Raj might walk in at any minute. And even more jumpy at the possibility that my boss would walk in when I was talking to Raj. I had no idea what she would do if that happened. I didn't want to test just how high that one eyebrow could go.

I decided it would be best to head Raj off at the pass and to try to run into him in the main hallway. So for the second morning in a row, I found endless reasons to leave the lab for a few minutes: water, coffee, bathroom breaks, copier, checking mailboxes...I worried that my clicky high heeled black boots would have my boss peeking out of her office as I passed by all those times. I tried to walk on the balls of my feet, essentially tip-toeing through the hall.

By 10:15 I was in the breakroom with my morning Diet Coke. I browsed the copy of the Minnesota Daily, the University newspaper, that someone had left on the table and half-participated in a conversation with two older women in the lab who were complaining about their husbands. I really didn't have much to add to what they were talking about: not only did I not have a husband, but I certainly didn't have kids to take care of while that husband hunted every weekend. And then something - someone - in the hallway caught my eye.

Raj.

There he was, resplendent in...what the hell was he wearing?!

He stood there in a turquoise lightweight coat over a grey t-shirt and jeans that were certainly too pale and too relaxed-fit to have any business existing in 2004.

We made eye contact and the rest of the world disappeared for a second. We smiled at each other. He made a subtle gesture that I should meet him out in the hall. As casually as possible, I recycled my diet coke and murmured a "see you later" to the women and walked out to Raj.

I could feel the blood coursing through me as my heart pounded. I stood in front of Raj and suddenly the sense of a normal distance to stand from a person had left me. Move closer? Was I too close? His eyes - his intense and freaking gorgeous brown eyes - made my heart beat even harder and I forgot what I was even thinking about.

We smiled almost shyly at each other and I wondered if innocent bystanders could get hurt by the electric minefield going off around us.

Yeah. There was no more doubt about whether there was "something" between us.

"Hey," he said, smiling at me.

"Hi," I smiled back.

A non-socially acceptable ten seconds passed while we smiled stupidly at each other.

"I didn't want to talk to you in there," he gestured to the breakroom, "You know how everyone likes to listen to what everyone else is saying and they would jump all over us for making plans with each other."

"Oh yeah. Very true." I was glad we were on the same page with not letting the work world know about our impending date. "Did you just get here?" I pointed to the keys in his hand.

"I actually just stopped in quick to change the media on my cells. I was building my garage this morning and still need to spend the rest of the day on it."

"Ah, yes." That explained the outfit. His jeans reminded me of jeans boys wore in the early-to-mid 90s, specifically the jeans that the college guys at the campus church my family attended had worn. I clearly remembered being a 13-year-old girl who always fascinated by the college kids and what they were wearing. I could never figure out why they would choose icky Levis over Gerbaud jeans. Not only were Gerbauds the superior choice in denim fashion but college kids didn't have parents to prevent them from buying cool jeans.

Suddenly I realized that Raj would have been in college back in the early-to-mid 90s when I'd been a wee and judgy 13 year-old. He had been in college when I had been in junior high. Whoa.

"So are you almost done building your garage?" I asked him, distracting myself away from my somewhat pervy realizations.

"It's getting there. I'll be working on it all weekend, too. I need to get it sided before winter starts."

We did some more stupid grinning at each other. Any worries about not finding him attractive in person vanished, especially since I was finding him pretty damn attractive in his extra special construction outfit.

"So I was thinking maybe we could see a movie on Monday since I leave for South Carolina on Tuesday."

"I get back on Monday afternoon so that should definitely work." More stupid grinning.

"Raj!" Matt's voice boomed down the hallway just as the two women emerged from the breakroom behind us. Raj and I shared one last second of eye contact and I casually called out that I would see him later before I turned to walk back to my lab.

I had a date. A top secret, super exciting date with Raj. On Monday we would be together, alone, on a date.

I suppressed the urge to fist pump the air as I clicked my way back to my lab.

* * * * *

I arrived in North Carolina on Thursday night. My sister and her boyfriend picked me up at the airport and we drove to their apartment in Carrboro, which was minutes away from Chapel Hill. We spent the weekend drinking wine, eating fancy cheeses and sushi, and visiting all their favorite spots in their new little city. As much as I wanted to be on a date with Raj this weekend, it was a sweet suffering to wait, letting the excitement build while I enjoyed my time with my sister.

Of course, Raj was never far from my mind. My sister and I went to the mall and shopped for an outfit for my big date. I shared everything I knew about Raj, boring her by rehashing the same details again and again. When she asked me what he looked like I struggled to figure out how to best describe him. After saying he looked like a cross between Vin Diesel and the photographer from the tv show "Just Shoot Me!", her confused look told me that I wasn't doing him justice. Too bad there weren't any pictures of him online. Maybe that Friendster website was onto something.

We spent a lazy couple hours on Saturday afternoon watching one of our favorite movies from childhood: Baby Boom. After the movie I sat down at the computer in the guest bedroom to check my email. I had written Raj a quick email on Thursday night after arriving, but hadn't heard back.

Until now. I read through his email with a smile that became a laugh.

It's currently 36 in the TC. I had to put my house slippers on for the first time and I'm already starting to wear my thermals. NOOOOOOOO!!!

House slippers? Thermals? Was he 70? How hideously delightful!

And then I realized something. The fact that I thought that my potential date shuffling around his house in "thermals and house slippers" was funny and charming and even acceptable was so telling. I had it pretty bad for Raj. Like really bad. House slippers and thermals and bad Levis from the 90s bad.

* * * * *

As the plane descended over Minneapolis, I noted the dusting of snow on the fields that surrounded the Twin Cities. Yuck. Not to mention, it complicated my planned-on outfit of a sexy black tank paired with my gray pants and a jean jacket. I strained in my seat to get a glimpse of the hospital where Raj and I worked. He was there right now.

After arriving home to my chilly apartment - and turning up the heat - I picked up my cell and dialed the number to Raj's lab. He had said I should call him when I got back to finalize plans for tonight. I was unbearably nervous hitting the final number on my phone's keypad. I hated the phone as a baseline, but calling Raj? Downright painful. My heart thump, thump, thumped almost sickeningly. It would be better once he picked up and the conversation got going, but these moments before were excruciating.

"Hello, Ed Jansen's lab. This is Raj."

"Hey! It's Laura!" I practically squeaked. Ugh. I hoped I didn't sound 14. I certainly felt 14.

"Well, hello," I could hear Raj smile into the phone. We talked briefly about our weekends and my flight and then I asked him what time he was thinking would work for him that night.

"Yeah, you know, I really hate to say this, but I think I'm coming down with a cold. I'm getting a sore throat."

"Oh, that sucks!" I was disappointed that his sore throat might make him feel less than 100% at our date that night.

"I know. I can't believe I might be getting sick this early in the season. But I guess it's not too surprising - I was outside all weekend working on my garage and it was so cold out. Actually, I was about to head home to rest so that I won't be sick for my trip. So I'm thinking maybe we should postpone."

My blood went cold. He wanted to postpone? After all the build-up? After all the flirting and emails? After all the complications in finding this one day in between our two trips to schedule this date? For a little cold? I paused, not sure what to say or even what to think. In that moment, my eyes landed on the book that I had purchased recently: He's Just Not That Into You.

I closed my eyes against the realization of what was happening. I couldn't do this. I couldn't bear to do this again. He wasn't into me enough to ignore a mild cold. He didn't really care that much about our date. Or about me. He wanted to postpone? Fine. Whatever.

"Oh," I replied, my voice now colder, "Yeah. I guess we could try to figure out a time after you get back." There wasn't much enthusiasm behind my suggestion.

"Ah, but I would hate to delay our date. It feels like it took so long to find a time that worked."

Exactly, I thought.

"How about this," Raj continued, "I'll go home and sleep for a bit and I'll call you in a few hours and hopefully I'll feel better."

"Okay." I replied. I didn't know what else to do. What was I supposed to do in this situation? I frantically thought to that book. Was I supposed to say no? Be done with him at this point? Or just not reschedule if he didn't feel up to a date in a few hours? "Yes. Call me later. Get some rest."

"Alright, sounds good. I call you later."

We said goodbye and hung up. I sat stiffly on my couch, looking at the phone in my hands, feeling nearly ready to cry. If I was going to date Raj, I needed him to treat me right. From day one. I had ignored things from the start with my ex, pretending it would get better when it never did. I couldn't do this again.

If Raj called in a few hours and still wanted to cancel due to a mild cold setting in, then that would be it. He would be done.

I spent the next few hours going between full-out getting ready and flopping on the couch thinking it was pointless because he might just cancel. I was so torn about giving him the benefit of the doubt, because doing that in my previous relationship had been wrong. Could I trust my instincts here? What were my instincts?

A little after five pm I was standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom, checking out my make-up, when the phone rang. I glanced down at the display: it was Raj.

I stared at the face in the mirror as the phone cheerfully played it's song. This was it. What would it be?

I pressed the green button to answer his call.

To be continued...

Letters to Oliver - 4 Months

2011-11-04T10:13:00.001-05:00

My Darling Baby Boy,

You are now four months old.

First your stats: 19 lbs, 14 oz (over 97th percentile), 25.8 inches (80th percentile), and enormous noggin (97th percentile). Your chin is also in the 97th percentile.

You continue on your trajectory towards being a humongous little guy. My arms can't keep up with your weight gain - you really have become a work out for me to carry everywhere. I saw a personal trainer last week for the first time in forever and she was impressed at my baseline level of strength. Thanks for that, Biggie.

This month packed in a lot of changes for you. You began to roll over soon after you turned 3 months old and haven't stopped since. I think I will always have such a clear memory of that first time you rolled over, since it was very unexpected. I had set you on your back on the bath mat in the bathroom while I gave Bella a bath. I was occupied with her for a few seconds and when I glanced at you, you were now on your tummy. My first thought was, "Hey! Tummy time. Good idea." This was followed by a classic double take and me rolling you back to your back to see if you would do it again. Which you did. So then Bella and I cheered for you and we texted Daddy with the good news.

As good as you are at rolling from back-to-belly, you don't quite have the reverse down yet. Consequently, you get stuck ALL. THE. TIME and need help rolling you back again. Luckily, plenty of help around the house for that!

In addition to the rolling over, you have also begun to sit tripod-style when I prop you up. Everyday you can stay there a little longer and are up to 20 seconds or something? But you favor practicing standing over sitting and won't even let me fold your chubby little body in half to sit down most times.

Your hand-eye coordination has also really improved, enabling you to grab toys (and our hair - ow!) and shove them in your mouth for a good chomping session. You seem very interested in books and pictures, especially the big Richard Scarry book we have. You start bouncing around and making all sorts of noises when we look at it.

This month has felt so full of time together. Which is a wonderful thing, because you are a delight. However, a lot of that time together has been between the hours of 7 pm and 7 am and NOOOOOOOOO Biggie. GO TO SLEEP. No, that's the problem. Biggie, you must STAY ASLEEP. Thank you and goodnight. (I SAID GOODNIGHT!)

By the way, I call you Biggie Smalls, Buddy Bear and Beauty Bear. Beauty Bear? I know, I know. Beauty Bear is just ridiculous. But you don't let me sleep and thus my brain gets messed up and thinks calling you Beauty Bear is a reasonable thing.

You really are a beauty, though. Your eyes are so interesting and we are always wondering which color they will be in the end. They are currently brown and blue, but in such an unusual pattern. Look!

While we are on the topic of appearance, your daddy begged and begged to cut your hair because you were at that funky bald-spot-in-the-back stage. Oh, Buddy Bear, I am NOT a fan, but your daddy loves it. [Insert joke about you both being bald now right here.] What do you think?

For the record, this will not be happening again since I am the boss of the world. Oh - this picture reminded me of something else. You have a gigantic soft spot (fontenelle if you are feeling fancy), but the pediatrician said it's still normal and should be all closed up by six months. We can see your heart beat in it now that your head is shaved. Let's pretend like that's cute and not kind of creepy.

You and your sister remain enamored of each other. One of Bella's favorite games is pretending she's a baby named Oliver. She also likes to do whatever you are doing. This is sometimes a little bit of a problem, but mostly it's sweet to see my two kids learning to play together.

Overall, you are such a wonderful baby. You are mellow and easy (aside from one thing, AHEM!) and seem so happy - always smiling and cooing at us and everyone else you happen to meet.

Love you forever,
Mama

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 8)

2011-11-01T20:57:00.001-05:00

[Looks like there will be a few more chapters. I apologize that it has gotten so very L-O-N-G! Once I started writing it out I realized that I wanted to truly capture my/our life at that time so that I can make this into a little book to print and keep, possibly to pass on to the future generations. Although I'm not sure how interested our grandchildren will be in reading about how hawt g-pa was back in the day... :)]

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

Chapter 8

I woke up on Monday morning in a mood to get things accomplished. I had to pack up, drive back to Minneapolis, and then cram as much as possible before my dietetic exam on Tuesday morning. The negative thoughts of the previous evening were lingering a bit, but I shoved them right back into the corner of my brain where I preferred they stay. And then I covered them with a blanket for good measure. Even if my life path seemed questionable, it was still a path. Onward ho.

I spent a good hour gathering my things, which had managed to get flung into every corner of my parents' house. Why did that always happen? When everything but the cats were packed up, I gave my email a quick check. I didn't have much hope since Raj hasn't sent me anything since Friday, but how could I resist checking? There was always the possibility...

Boom! One new message. He had sent it late the night before. Giddy happiness flooded over me. So perhaps he hadn't actually fallen in love with a phantom girl over the weekend. Peace out, phantom girl! I clicked on his email.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: P.S. - I'm using it as the Re: (too crazy!!)
Date: Sunday 10/10/04 10:28 PM

Oh, that's what those things are called.

I like the boobs best. How about this:

I'm just messing around here for the first time so cut me some slack.

( . ) ( . )

^ ^

U

That's my face when I see boobs.

Show me other parts, like the R rated ones. This is kind of fun. I like the bigger emoticons that take up space and lines, etc. Those others are a little too compact for me.

There's free thursdays at the walker and MIA has free tuesdays I think. I do see a lot of lagoon films. There's one that looks hilarious, it's called I (heart) the hucklebees. Haven't seen moto diaries don't know much about it. I don't have a t.v. (by choice not because I'm poor) so I don't know much about pop culture, etc. Talk later.

Raj

Inappropriateness abounded with that boob face. Awesome. And I had to laugh at his quick-to-clarify comment about not being poor. But no TV at all? Weeeeeeird. So if he didn't know pop culture did that mean he had had no freaking clue when I referred to the Paris Hilton thing in that early email? Oops.

I reread his email carefully, trying to look for clues to fully understand where we were at on the first date situation. Was he asking me on another date or simply telling me about things that I could do around town? As in, giving me ideas of things I could do on my own for the pursuit of higher culture. ARG! Why was there no specific "Let's see X on day Y" type of date-asking question?

But there wasn't much time to dwell - I had to get home. I replied to his email as quickly as possible, which meant a non-quick 30 minutes. It couldn't be helped - we were in a precarious pre-date state. One had to proceed carefully and with deliberation.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: That Was an Inappropriate Boob Face, Sir
Date: Monday 10/11/04 9:32 AM

Here's my face when I see boobs:

@ @
,
___

I guess I'm not as excited as you are.

Let's see...dirty body parts. I never did these myself, but some of my guy friends thought they were the greatest freshman year.

What's this:

OO
| |
| |
| |
U

Hm....that doesn't look right at all. Guessing he might have fertility issues or be really cold. Oh well, I tried.

How do you not have a TV? What about if you want to watch a movie? Have you just never had a TV? I find it all very interesting.

I Heart Huckabees looks really good. My sister and I are always talking about "hearting" things to gross each other out. Like I would say "I heart the way the sun is setting" and she would look at me and say "you are gross."

Ok, more flashcards then leave for home. I'm starting to stress about this dumb test.

BYE BYE,
G-funk

After I sent my email, which hopefully shouted, "ASK ME TO I HEART HUCKABEES, YOU TV-LESS FOOL!" in a sweet and endearing way, I went to shut down my computer. As usual, my free-with-my-car laptop was taking it's sweet time. Apparently free laptops aren't exactly top of the line. While I waited, I grabbed my planner to check what was on the agenda for the upcoming week at work. As I looked at the full calendar page of October, I was blown away to realize that it had less than a week since I had attended Raj's second presentation. We had only been emailing for a week? Insane because we were now to the important relationship stage of emailing awkward R-rated symbol pictures to each other. Life was funny. And just plain weird.

When my computer was finally shut down, a glance at the kitchen clock told me that I really needed to get going. I shoved the cats in their carriers, gave a quick goodbye hug to my mom, thanking her for letting me be a kid for a few days and got going.

As I drove along I-94 I thought about seeing Raj in person the next day. It was going to be so weird. I felt comfortable being my wacko self to him by email, but to see him in person would be a different ball game. A scary ball game. I thought about his emails and what I knew about him, my brain trying, as always, to neatly categorize everything. But I didn't know how to categorize Raj; he was mind-boggling to me. He was old -30! - but didn't act old. Apparently he liked boobs. He was interested in dance, yet drank beer and played flag football. He didn't have a TV. But not because he was poor - ha! He was attractive. He was smart. He made me laugh. And hot diggity damn did I have a major crush on him.

As the city skyline came into view, I reminded myself that I had to put Raj stuff on hold until the exam was over. Which meant no email. If I were to not pass the exam then I would be the first intern in many years from my internship program to fail. That would be beyond humiliating. I lectured myself: the big, huge important test was priority number one. Everything else could wait one day. Certainly I could hold off checking my email for one day.

The second I walked in the back door to my apartment, all resolve left me. I quickly released the cats from their carriers and rushed to check my email again.

And there was not one, but TWO emails in my inbox. Squeee! The first was asking me what the hell was that thing I had drawn in my last email. Ha. He also clarified that he watched movies on his computer. I felt relieved by that - it seemed less weird. Then he asked me when I was getting back into town and when I would be taking my test. And that was it. No date question. There was a decided lack of date-asking in this email. I clicked to the next email.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: P.P.S.
Date: Monday 10/11/04 11:00 AM

Have you ever seen an omni 3-D movie at the Science Museum? They're showing Mars in 3D and I've got to go see it. Wanna? If you're not into science-nerdy things like that it's cool.

Raj

YESSSSSS! This was what I was looking for. An actual date to an actual place. Truly, I could care less what we did. We could sit in a waiting room at an auto repair shop for all I cared. But an Omni movie sounded great. Mars could totally be romantic, right?

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: An Itemized Email
Date: Monday 10/11/04 3:09 PM

Dear Scientist,

In response to your questions:

1. Yes, I would like to see a science-nerdy movie. I was raised to be science-nerdy so there is no escaping that. I think they also have a movie involving tidal waves at the Omni right now, too. Tidal waves are my #2 fear, just after vomit, but before worms. When is it/when are you free?

2. Somehow when I sent my mysterious body part picture the text shifted all around and now it looks really funny. Perhaps I can hand draw a picture of what it is, or maybe even point it out on a mannequin.

3. I am in town now. I got back just a little bit ago and am avoiding my flashcards.

4. Test is tomorrow in Eden Prairie (Why???? Why Eden Prairie? Nothing else is in Eden Prairie!) at 8 am. I will have to leave irritatingly early because I tend to get lost easily.

Should you need to contact me about movie times my digits are 612-234-5678.

LG

PS- Don't really have anything to put here, but it seemed like the thing to do.

I sat on my couch smiling after sending the email. It was officially going to happen! We could go on a date this week! Well, hopefully we could go on a date this week if he was free on Tuesday or Wednesday night. The rest of the week wouldn't work since my flight out to North Carolina to visit my sister was Thursday night. So if this week didn't work then we would have to wait through another entire weekend, which was 10 billion years away. He would be free. He would HAVE to be free.

But whether or not we went on a a date this week, I was going to see him tomorrow. I stared without seeing at the wall, thinking about what to wear, what I would say, where I might see him - break room? by the elevators? hallway? Suddenly I remembered what I was supposed to be doing. DAMMIT! I had been getting lost in my Raj-reverie again instead of losing myself in the intricate calculation of total parenteral nutrition for a burn victim. MUST FOCUS NOW! I closed my computer and buried it under a stack of magazines to hide it from myself and finally got to work.

After an intense few hours, I let myself check my email one last time before bed. And there it was - his fourth email of the day. Five if I included the one he had written the night before that I read that morning. Had I ever received that many emails from a guy in one day? Amazing. He liked me. He SO liked me.

I read it quickly: he was especially busy this week and wouldn't be at work tomorrow. My heart sank when I read that - so I wouldn't get to see him tomorrow? I read on: Wednesday night he had a flag football game. NOOOOO. That meant we weren't going to get to go on a date this week. Sigh. Maybe it was better not to have a last minute date - wasn't there some dumb rule about that or something? Like it was better not to be too available? Ah, but I really, really wanted to be available to see Raj. Like NOW.

I felt really disappointed. Not only was there no date this week, but work was going to suck tomorrow without the chance of getting to see Raj. Bah.

* * * * *

Bright and early on Tuesday, I took my computerized exam and passed with flying colors. Adrenaline coursed through me as I realized that I was now done with studying and could embark on my career as a dietitian. Or...not.

After the initial adrenaline rush of passing the exam and getting to call my mom and the internship director to report the good news, the remainder of the day was boring. A work day without Raj was purely a day at work. Going to the break room was simply to take a break. Heading to the elevator didn't offer any side benefits of running into Raj. There were no thrills and excitement.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I checked my email when I got home from work, but still no word from Raj. Not too surprising since he hadn't gone to work that day - what was he up to? I spent the early evening with my friend at her house a few blocks from mine. We ate dinner and watched Real World, a weekly guilty pleasure. Of course I found myself gushing about Raj during every commercial break. I couldn't help myself.

When I arrived home, I did my now compulsive move of checking my email first thing.

Huzzah! He had just emailed me moments earlier and I immediately emailed him back, kicking off a flurry of emailing for the next hour. It was pure fun. He was fun. Our emails were full of ridiculous things and flirting while at the same time sharing some basic getting to know you type of information. I was able to add several more facts to my mental list of Raj information: He had been busy building a garage at his house all day! And he was originally from Virginia! And was going to meet up with his old Virginia friends for a bachelor party in Myrtle Beach the following weekend!

That last fact was quite the downer. So not only would this weekend not work for a date since I was out of town, the following weekend wouldn't work either since he was out of town. The chance for a weekend date was now pushed practically to November. Damn! Our last email for the evening had us making plans to chat with each other the next day at work to try to find a time to go to a movie.

As I got ready for bed, I felt the nervous anticipation of seeing him again. Would we have the same chemistry in person that we seemed to have developed in our emails? Would it feel really awkward? I couldn't quite picture how things would go. Could we jump right into casual banter or would there be an initial warming up period? Well, one thing was certain - I needed to look G-O-O-D tomorrow. I went to my closet to find the perfect combination of sexy-meets-appropriate-for-the-lab clothes. Which meant...? Hm. I had my work cut out for me.

* * * * *

All Wednesday morning I created reasons to go out into the main hallway in hopes of seeing Raj. First I needed coffee. Then water. Then a bathroom break (which was reasonable, really). Then I had to use the copier. Oh - and the lab needed more pens, so a trip to the supply closet was simply necessary. Then it was time for a break, so off to the break room. And in all those silly excursions, there was no Raj. Where was he?

I finally sent him an email right before noon, telling him that I was about to head to the break room for lunch. I also shared that I had a work meeting at 3 pm that afternoon. Surely we could figure out a time to talk since bumping into each other in the halls wasn't happening.

Just as I hoped, Raj emailed me back within minutes. He said that we should meet in the breakrom after my work meeting, but that he had to leave at 5 for flag football. Perfect. A break room date. I smiled as I emailed him back quickly saying that I could meet him in the break room at 4:15 pm. We were finally FOR SURE going to see each other in person. This would be the first time in...I quickly calculated in my head...a week that we would see each other in person. A whole week!

I was in a great mood for the the next few hours and wondered if my giddy state was obvious. I tried to tone it down, but the urge to bounce up and down was hard to suppress. Then any urge to bounce in my seat left me as my work meeting went on for more than an hour. The doctor in charge of the studies I worked on - my boss's boss - was delivering a soliloquy on how modern methods for analyzing proteins were simply wrong, he stood by the methods he had learned in the 1950s. He was still going full steam as the clock hit 4:15 pm. I sat there, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, knowing that Raj was probably in the break room waiting for me. I watched the minutes tick by. 5 minutes late to our break room "date." 10 minutes. 15 minutes. 20 minutes. 30 entire minutes late to meet Raj. Ugh. I felt terrible. And I really had to pee.

Finally, finally, we were dismissed for the day. I first ran to the bathroom and peed for what seemed like several minutes. Then I quickly checked my appearance. Make-up okay? Check. Teeth food-free? Check. Hair not wacky? Check. Looking good? Check minus. It had been a long meeting.

Then I rushed to the break room and stepped inside.

It was empty.

I mustered up the courage to walk down the hall to the lab Raj worked in. I figured I could peek in the window and - as long as he wasn't talking to anyone - I could stop in and explain what had happened and we could finally get that date set. With my heart pounding I approached the door, incredibly nervous to finally see him and to have a direct face-to-face conversation. I got to the door and looked inside.

There was no one in there, either.

He must have left. I had completely missed him. I had stood him up for our break room date.

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.

To be continued...

Happy Hallo-wizzle Schnizzle!

2011-10-31T20:50:00.000-05:00

I thought I could make myself stand out amongst the others in your Google Reader with that title.

The important stuff:

Biggie slept the whole time we trick-or-treated.

THE END

PS - That was a ballet costume from high school. 1000 points for me for fitting into it OVER my jeans & shirt, even though I weigh 30 more pounds right now than I did back then (extra 10 lbs per boob, remainder spread like delicious frosting layer over midsection). God Bless Spandex. And America. And Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

THE END FOR REALS

Enjoy Every Minute...It All Goes So Fast

2011-10-27T10:26:00.006-05:00

When I was days away from delivering Oliver, a 60-something woman in the gym locker room smiled at my enormous shape dressed in one of the few maternity dresses that still fit me. She was heading to her swim aerobics class and I was just finishing up getting ready for the day after swimming in the pool - a type of exercise I don't really like, but it was all I was physically able to do at that point. She told me about how her neighbor, a woman in her thirties, was not enjoying her pregnancy. This kindly older woman just couldn't understand it. She had loved being pregnant! It was the best time! Didn't I think it was the most special time of my life?

I couldn't stop myself. I smiled back at her and said sweetly, "I threw up this morning."

Because I had. Of course I then played it off with a laugh, sharing that my morning sickness had come back and I was just feeling a bit tired because I also had a toddler, but I was trying to enjoy it, blah blah. I can't actually be an asshole to random strangers, though I might want to at times.

This type of interaction happens on a regular basis to me and I imagine to most people with young kids. I always smile and chat with the stranger, but the truth is that I get so frustrated every time one of them gives me the "Enjoy every minute! It all goes so fast." spiel.

Because right now? I am not enjoying every minute. I am so horribly sleep deprived and I feel like I'm functioning at such a low level. I continue to force myself to do regular things - cook dinner some nights, bring the kids to the library, keep up with the chores, but it's ridiculously difficult to slog through the day. So when it comes to the passage of time? I do want it to go fast. It can speed right through the next few weeks of truly terrible sleep and bring me to a time when both kids are sleeping relatively well.

This makes me feel like a bad person: a whiner, a complainer, negative. I really want to be loving this time. But I am having the hardest time soaking it all in and basking in the pleasure of it all when I feel physically compromised much of the time - first with a rough pregnancy, then with a challenging postpartum period, and most recently with the sleep deprivation. It makes me mad that this supposedly delightful time is marred with what amounts to normal life stuff. Because all my "hardships"? NORMAL. COMMON. And there we go back to the first sentence of this paragraph.

This is not to say I don't savor sweet moments. I do every single day. Every day I laugh out loud and feel joy and absolute delight at this life I'm living. Husband and I will look at each other over the kids heads and smile so contentedly to each other that it would be incredibly disgusting to anyone else who saw it. I keep track of the happiness in my writing and take pictures often. I make myself slow down during those happy times and just be.

But enjoy every minute? FUCK NO.

Because I did not enjoy vomiting during pregnancy while a toddler climbed on my back. That was a time that could not go fast enough. I also struggled to enjoy gazing on my jaundiced newborn glowing in his bili-bed while I felt like warmed-over death after my postpartum hemorrhage. That was another time that life could move along at a rapid clip without complaint from me. And now, after a night of 10 wake-ups, I dealt with a full hour of crisis management - crisis of the baby/toddler sort, obvs - running from the crying baby who just woke up to the screaming toddler who just fell while climbing furniture back to the crying baby because he rolled over and got stuck and then back to the toddler who needed help pooping right back to the crying baby who needed holding and then back to the toddler who stuck a big piece of super-sticky moleskin to her hair to fix her boo-boo thus creating a new boo-boo. I can assure you that these were minutes I did not enjoy! Eventually I found myself nursing a fussy baby while the toddler danced around me naked, begging me to make a tent with her. Oliver began to smile and coo and I forced myself to really SEE him and smile and coo back, but every nerve ending was fried after last night's non-sleep and I just wanted to hide under my bed and cry. I swear if you had touched me you would have felt electric prickles.

I can see my luckiness all around me every day and I am grateful for it, often listing what I am grateful for in my head. Healthy Husband and children. Healthy self. Happy marriage. Nice home in a great neighborhood. Vacation coming up. Parents coming to visit and help out when Husband has two long business trips next month. Husband has a good job. I am doing exactly what I want to be doing by staying at home. We have enough disposable income to pay a baby-sitter to come over two mornings a week. The list goes on forever. I have A LOT. Too much. I don't deserve it.

But I'm not enjoying every minute of my children's early days. And frankly, right now it's quite OK with me that it all goes so fast.

Hodge-Podge (Photo Bomb Style)

2011-10-25T22:14:00.002-05:00

Thank you so much to everyone who commented on my drama llama post about sleeping. You all gave me lots of suggestions, some of which I hadn't even heard of so thank you, thank you, thank you. And I totally forgot AGAIN about the 4-month sleep regression thing. Because brain = broken. The reminder that there are many others in my boat is reassuring. Plus things aren't so bad. Bella is back to being a happy camper since her 2-year molars came in and naps daily AND the kids naps & bedtimes have synced up - yippee!

Now onto today's important matters.

Item 1.0: I trust you Endust?
I had a few minutes to myself today and I picked up my November Martha Stewart Magazine, the very same one that I have studiously ignored since seeing that it had an article about the charms of taxidermy (!?!). I absentmindedly flipped through it until I came to this ad:

Re-he-he-heally? Marketing team, tell me who praytell, is your target market? WHO? Because I suspect it's me. And OMG, no. Just no.

OMG, LOL, right? Not ROFL, but LOL. Or maybe not quite LOL. Maybe more SQIMH*.

*snicker quietly into my hand

Item 1.54: Like Father, Like Son
My friend Susan gave Oliver the most awesome baby gift one could give the son of a William & Mary alum. BOOM!

How cute is Biggie in his W&M sweatshirt? I tried to replace Husband's well-worn version last year, but he rejected all the ones I showed him online because they did not meet specific "reverse-weave by Champion" criteria. Oh, I wish I was kidding. What is with the highly picky sweatshirt preferences? Or maybe the reverse-weave business is just a cover. *COUGH*securityblanket*COUGH*

Have I ever told you about how random Minnesota people think his name is William? By extension I get to be Mary. Makes me feel really founding father-ish slash lame in the sense that people think I would marry someone who wears a sweatshirt with our names on it.

Item 2 and 5/8ths: Cat Piles

In 1986 I thought that cat piles were awesome and would try to forcibly create them with our cats. Now it's 25 years later and cat piles scare me a little. Too much cat. Meow.

Item 3.14159265: Love in a Time of Sleeplessness
I sent Husband this pretty picture when I was up rocking Biggie after his first waking last night. I thought expressing my emotions through an iPhone self portrait would soothe my savage breast.

I know what you are thinking. And you would be right. I do have really pretty irises.

Husband sent me this back.

As I look at it again now I'm reminded that I wanted to see if his nostrils really are that different or if it was a magical trick of the iPhone camera. I have been with this man for 7 years and I've never given his nostrils a good look. That will all change tonight. Things really are just as exciting as when we first met...

10 Short Naps in a Row Does Not a Night of Restful Sleep Make

2011-10-24T08:42:00.001-05:00

Oliver's sleep has gone from fine (up 2-3 times a night) to eh (3-5 times a night) to bad (5-7 times a night) to HOLY HELL I AM GOING TO DIE (9-10 times a night) over the past month. I got so little sleep last night that I feel crazy stupid and every little thing sends me through the roof with irritation. I could hear Husband clipping his nails upstairs this morning. HOW DARE HE!? I am physically weak (?) and mentally taxed and just overwhelmed. And then all that leads to me sort of hating myself for not being able to function. Yeah. I have a lot of happy moments everyday, but there are a lot of not-so-happy moments, too. Like yesterday, when I was dragging myself through grocery shopping and I dropped the stupid can of organic beans on my foot because I can't function enough to hold a can and I pretty much just wanted to cry. A big bean cry.

This happened with Bella, too, at pretty much this same time. Is it me? Am I doing something so incredibly wrong that I create my own misery? Or could it be the fact that Biggie grows super fast - almost a pound a week (now almost 20 lbs)? Or that he is busting through milestones - most notably the rolling? Or is it that he is getting his first two teeth?

The teeth thing seems the most suspect. He's wanting to gnaw on everything and I can see the two little spots where they will come in, but I'm not a rookie and I know that those first teeth can take months to come in. Months of this kind of sleep? I really will die.

For the record, I'm not feeding him with every waking and we have tried several positions & places for him to sleep - co-sleeper, in bed with me, laying on our chests, and in the swing. Last night he wanted none of it except constant nursing, which hasn't really been his M.O. up to this point. He was previously only nursing when hungry and then done.

What's the latest in teething treatments? All I remember from Bella's tinier days was that Hylands teething tablets turned out to be all sorts of bad for some reason and that Infant Tylenol was recalled a frightening number of times. Which leaves...? I'm not even convinced that I want to give Oliver anything, but Husband is all, "MUST DO SOMETHING!"

And now I must be done. Oliver is up from his nap and Super Why is ending. Commence slogging through another day fueled by 4 cups of coffee. Arg. At least my non-rookie status has me remembering that this does end and it does get better and I will sleep again. Just probably not tonight. Or tomorrow. Or several more tomorrows after that. Weepcakes.

Here we have Biggie Smalls this morning, wearing, yes, pink polar bear pjs. Because I'm way behind on laundry. Bin of size 9-month baby girl clothes to the rescue!

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 7)

2011-10-23T14:55:00.005-05:00

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6

Chapter 7

When my alarm started beeping at me on Friday morning, my first thought was email. I sprinted from my bed and ran to the living room and checked it.

Nope. No new email from Raj. I sat for a moment, feeling disappointed. With the wind taken out of my sails, I became acutely aware of the earliness of the hour. As much as my bed was luring me back for another couple hours of sleep, I knew I needed to get out the door ASAP to beat morning traffic on my way back to Fargo.

Fighting inertia, I forced myself off the couch and just got ready enough for a car ride by putting in my contacts and giving my teeth a quick brush. Then I loaded Team Gray into their cat carriers. When it came to Toonses I simply had to hold it out and he jumped in there (he loved the car and took his namesake very seriously) but big, fat Stevie took some clever maneuvering. With a final shove on Stevie's backside, they were in and secure. Once everything was brought down to my car, I got in myself and cracked open my first Diet Mountain Dew of the day. The early morning soda was a vice I had picked up in college, and frankly, I loved it and had no intention of giving it up in spite of my mom's look of horror and shock each time she saw me do it. I made my way through the still and quiet streets of Uptown and got onto I-94, heading west. Stevie was bleating like a goat but soon he would go to sleep and the only sound would be my Garden State CD.

After I got outside the first tier of suburbs, traffic was practically non-existent and I settled in for the easy drive. Once I passed St. Cloud, the scenery offered it's usual array of small towns and farmland and my nose was accosted at regular intervals by the smell of manure. As boring and mundane as this impossibly flat stretch of highway could be, I liked the forced thinking space. Today I was especially appreciative for it. I could sit alone with my thoughts and indulgently come up with every permutation of what might happen next between Raj and me.

A few hours later I turned onto the small stretch of gravel road that joined the 24 houses of my tiny town called North River. It was just a few miles north of Fargo and located, not surprisingly, along the Red River. As much as I had no desire to return to Fargo as an adult, I liked my childhood town. It was safe and comfortable and, quite simply, home. I was glad I had come. I needed this respite from being an independent adult, from being the grown-up that I was supposed to be now.

My mom came out to greet me with a hug and we chatted as she helped me lug things in from the car. After raiding the well stocked fridge, I decided to make a sandwich to have with the mandatory chips & Cass-Clay french onion dip that I couldn't find in Minneapolis. We sat together and ate a quick lunch and then my mom went to her home office to get some things done while I set up my study area at the dining room table. I booted up my computer and had every intention to get to work right away.

But first, I would check my email. Really quick. Just to see. Then I would hold off for four, no three, no two hours. Yes. That was a reasonable goal.

I had one new message.

I shouted to my mom, who was three rooms away, in that obnoxious way that only a child would do to her parent. "Mom! He wrote me!" I had kept her in the loop, conveniently leaving out any bit about inappropriate Paris Hilton references.

I happily clicked on the email and began to read.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: Weirdo
Date: Fri, 08 Oct 2004 9:55

You're weird. That's a big compliment in my book.

Actually, I have two tickets to see a performance that reviews Fosse's work as well as to Chicago. The Fosse show is on Sunday the 17th of October at the Ordway and Chicago isn't until December 19th. Do you want to come to one of those shows? I don't normally find people who are into dance. I love the stuff.

We can talk about me doing a dance for you then. I have a centrifugal dance that I could show you. It's hilarious. I'll check out the Little Prince.

Have a good weekend.

Raj

I sat there staring at the words, his words, feeling dazed. There was just so much in that email that was exactly right. The amazing thing was that Raj was saying things that I would say. You're weird. That's a big compliment in my book. I had always prided myself on my weirdness, yet all of my exes had seemed annoyed by it at times. Or at least, they preferred I not be so obviously kooky.

I sat back in my chair, feeling overwhelmed by him asking me out and by the utter perfection of him calling me weird as a compliment. Was it possible that we were the same brand of weird? I hadn't expected that.

"Mom! He asked me out!" I shouted again. She came out of her office to see what I was shouting about since she couldn't hear me from so far away. I looked up at her, "He asked me out! To a show. Next Sunday! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" My mom smiled. She had been nothing but supportive about this Raj crush. In fact, she was far more enthusiastic about me getting involved with someone than she had ever been in the past. I was pretty sure this had little to do with Raj and a lot to do with it not being my ex but it still felt so nice to be able to be open with her.

"Wait," she said, "Aren't you going to North Carolina next weekend?"

Oh no. I had been so caught up in him actually asking me on a date that I had totally forgotten about my trip. I had bought a ticket to go to Raleigh to visit my sister and her boyfriend as a reward for completing the dietetic exam. I was so excited for that trip but now I cursed the bad timing. There would be no date next weekend and no creepy Fosse show with Raj. Bummer.

"Well, you'll find another time. There's a lot to do in the Twin Cities," my mom reminded me before excusing herself again to get some work done.

I wanted to give myself all the time in the world to respond to Raj's email and to daydream and be giddy, but I really did have to buckle down and study. Grudgingly, I dug out my flashcards and began to review. Soon I was drowning in a sea of metabolic alkalosis, the grading of beef, and the practice of FIFO when storing foods in a refrigerator. I wondered if I would have chosen this same career route had I known this was where it would take me: studying a cow's ass in order to memorize which steak comes from where.

Hours later, I finally gave myself the chance to reply to Raj.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: You're weird, too.
Date: Fri, Oct 08, 2004 4:00 PM

I am definitely a big weirdo. It's part of my charm.

That is awesome that you have tickets to those shows - are you a season ticket holder? I was sad though, when I saw you are going to Fosse on Oct 17th - I'll be in Raleigh, NC visiting my sister. I swear I'm not normally such a jet setter. Not that being in Fargo this weekend should in any way be considered jet-setting. But you for sure have to keep me in mind for Chicago. I have been wanting to go to a musical/play/cultural event for a while, but I just haven't gotten around to it.

Have you done dance in the past? Or musical theater? Or perhaps you are a metrosexual and thus highly cultured? I'm just curious, because as I'm sure you are aware - guys aren't normally into dance. But its very cool that you are.

Hope the work lunch thing was fun today. Team Gray (my two gay gray cats - Toonses & Stevie) and I arrived in Fargo this AM and plan on getting lots of studying done. Woo-hoo! Anyway, hopefully there will be a chance for me to hang out with you and the other work people soon...unless I have to suddenly travel to Europe or Asia or Africa or something like that. Because I'm extremely busy and important. ;)

See you later,
Laura

PS - While I don't personally believe in emoticons, I am wont to use them and for that I apologize.

PPS - Don't have high expectations for The Little Prince. From what I remember watching it in 12th grade french class, it's creepy and bizarre...and I think it's meant for children. But maybe then it will be right up you alley- you know, with your PB&J addiction and stuff.

After sending the email, I found myself wishing I had sent it earlier in the day - that way Raj would have still been at work when he got it and therefore more likely to reply. I was beginning to rely on these emails in a way that was a little scary. But now it was Friday night and he probably had plans. An unpleasant thought struck me: what if he met another girl this weekend? And then it would be all awkward come December because who would he take to the Chicago show? I felt frustrated that I couldn't say yes to the date on October 17. I needed to find another substitute date that we could go on. I decided to look at City Pages online to see what was going on around Minneapolis.

After coming up with a few ideas - there was a ballet at Northrup and some indie films playing at the Lagoon theater -it occurred to me that I could google Raj. I had never been in the position to google a future date before. How modern and "Sex in the City" of me. I typed in Raj Rijwani and hit return. There was a famous Raj Rijwani Bollywood actor. I squinted at the picture, just in case Raj was secretly famous, but it didn't appear to be my Raj. (My Raj!) I narrowed the search by adding Minnesota. And Raj turned out to be very, very Google-able.

His real age was revealed from several hits of previous 5Ks he had run: Raj was 30. So definitely old. And a runner. That was kind of hot. I scrolled down the page. His named was listed as an author on a few scientific articles, not too surprising. And a short film? What was that? It showed a picture that was clearly Raj, although he looked a bit different. So he was in videos on the internet, after all! I tried to click on the short film, but it was a dead link. It was all highly intriguing.

Then I realized I was going to have to pretend not to know certain things when we finally had our date. That could prove tricky. Raj might not find a pre-date google as socially acceptable as I did. Or was it possible that he would google me? I checked my name, but nothing interesting came up. And then, I quickly typed in my ex's name, just to see, but nothing surprising came up there, either. I was annoyed at myself for even doing that. Let it go, I reminded myself for the umpteenth time.

I decided I had done enough for one day and I also willed myself not to check my email for a few hours. I dumped my study materials on the floor by the table and went into the kitchen to help my mom make tacos for dinner. We ate when my dad got home from work, just as we had done thousands of times in the past, but it felt odd not to have my siblings in chairs on either side of me. I helped to clear the table and even washed a few dishes, something I wouldn't have willingly done in my youth. Maybe I was growing up after all. And then I finally gave in and let myself check my email.

I was rewarded - he had written. Maybe I had a leg up on that phantom girl he was going to meet tonight after all. My boring weekend in Fargo - disconnected from Raj - was turning out to be not so boring or disconnected after all.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: Thanks
Date: Fri, Oct 08, 2004 6:52 PM

Weird is charming.

I'm not a season ticket holder but I do have some sort of preferred status; some marketing thing for buying tickets for multiple shows.

Let's just plan on you going to Chicago then and if something comes up for you in the meantime then you can let me know, otherwise the ticket is as good as yours.

If you're into "musical/play/cultural" events then I'll let you know when I'm going to one because I go out for a lot of them. I make films and am into all kinds of "artsy" type stuff so I'm always into experiencing new things. I have done dance like ballroom, got into swing, latin, etc. but never anything really formal. You can just say that whatever feels good to me I do no matter what the "general" opinion of that activity is. As for guys not normally being into dance I think that guys are extremely careful about what they say they like because they don't want anyone to think they're gay but I don't care if someone thinks that because I'm a pretty secure guy. I don't even know what emoticons are so use them as often as you like. Have a good weekend.

Raj

P.S. You seem to like P.S.'s

So I had an official date! In...December. Two months away. I had to laugh. At least Raj seemed on the same page as I was with giving each other an out - who knows where we would be in two months? Mind boggling to think that far ahead. So he was into random film and art things? Interesting. He wasn't turning out to be what I had expected at all.

* * * * *

I let myself sleep in the next morning and that sense of giddiness over Raj's emails and his invitation for a date - the two-months-away date - remained strong. I grabbed a cup of coffee- how nice to have someone else make it! - and typed a response to Raj.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: A Education in Emoticons
Date: Sat, Oct 09, 2004 10:17 AM

Here are emoticons (icons of emotion...or something gross like that):
:) ;) :( :-/ etc.

You can also get creative and do body parts:
(.)(.)=boobs

I could do other parts, but that would be R-rated. This keeps it PG-ish.

I apologized for using them cause men usually find them in the category of irritating things women do that includes wearing capri pants, wanting to watch bad romantic comedies with Freddy Prinze Jr, and talking about cats. And of course I do these things for I am woman. Roar.

I am super excited for Chicago. Have you done any museum-ing lately? That's another thing I have been meaning to do. I should just make a nice list of the things I want to do. I like lists. Do you go to some of the more artsy/documentary movies in Uptown? I saw Garden State a few weeks ago and really liked it (of course... I do have a crush on Zach Braff so that might have had something to do with it). Motorcycle Diaries is also playing right now-have you seen it?

Nutrition flashcards are so very, very lame.

Ok, talk later.

LG

PS- Damn straight I like PSs.

Surely after emailing him e-boobs, he would jump on one of those other suggestions I offered him for a date? I felt a little twitchy about being so obvious, but why not be a little obvious? I wanted to go on date with him and I was going to make it happen.

Oh my God. I was going to go on a date with him. It was going to happen. This was all going so fast. And so slow.

I studied the rest of Saturday, but felt disappointed when each email check left me without a new message from Raj. I went to bed on Saturday night questioning the last email I had sent, wondering what Raj was doing and wondering why he didn't email me back. Had the e-boobs been too much?

Sunday morning once again left me email-less, unless I wanted to count the email from h0tC0cK for XXXViagraXXX. Raj had probably met someone and my two-months-in-the-future date wasn't going to happen. He was setting up two-months-in-the-future dates with her.

Or not. Deep breaths.

By Sunday afternoon I was feeling good about having studied enough and I decided that a movie night sounded good. I volunteered to run out to Blockbuster and also Hornbachers, the beloved grocery store chain in Fargo. We had run out of french onion dip and I was experiencing withdrawal.

As I drove the short distance into town, I was struck with the horrifying thought that I could run into my ex. While we didn't meet until the fall of freshman year, we were both originally from Fargo and his parents had moved up to the north side of town a few years ago. Logically, I knew the chances of randomly running into him in Fargo were extremely slim - especially when you considered we lived less than a mile apart in Minneapolis - but I did not want any surprises. I desperately wanted to be in the position of seeing him first and getting the option to flee when that inevitable moment came where we were in the same place at the same time. Besides, even if my ex was in Minneapolis, his parents were still very much in Fargo and I also wanted to avoid any awkward conversations with them. Why must life be so endlessly complex?

Thankfully, the trip was non-eventful beyond seeing a couple of high school classmates and I procured my dip and also rented the new movie "Saved!" with Mandy Moore. Driving home I was struck by a sense of deja vu, having driven this stretch of highway in the dark so often in high school. I arrived home, parked in the driveway and on the short walk to the front door I was suddenly aware of how quiet and still it was. The only sound that broke the stillness was the mild whooshing of the wind blowing through the pine trees that bordered our large front yard. I automatically looked up at the sky, and there it was: a wide open expanse of starlit sky. As much as I might make fun of North Dakota, it had a stunning night sky. How many times had I looked up on both humid summer nights and frigid winter ones at that sky? I realized how much I missed seeing it on a regular basis. The night sky was never so brilliant in Minneapolis.

After watching "Saved!" with my mom, I decided to head to bed early. I would be heading back to Minneapolis the next day and still needed to do a bit more cramming. I checked my email one last time for the day: nothing. I told myself that feeling so sad over not getting an email from a man with whom you have a two-months-from-now date was ridiculous, but there it was: major disappointment. Maybe he really had found another girl that weekend. I felt sick at that thought.

As I lay in bed reading that night I found myself reading the same paragraph in my book over and over. I felt frustrated and set the book aside. For the first time that weekend I really looked around at the weird transitional room I was in. It had been my younger brother's room growing up but I had switched with him once I left for school since I had had the much larger bedroom. This odd little space had only been "my" bedroom the summer after freshman year. Thus the laminated theater posters from junior high and high school were never hung on the walls, but other youthful paraphernalia had made its way over. Pink satin point shoes hung from the ceiling and framed prom pictures featuring my high school guy, a chlorine-scented swimmer boy with overly-gelled hair, were on the dresser and on the shelf behind my bed. As far as first boyfriends could go, he had been one of the best. I remained in touch with him and he often crashed at my place when he stopped by the Cities, usually giving me about three hours notice. It drove me nuts, but he was one of my oldest friends and since I had no romantic interest in him, I didn't really care.

I picked up one of the framed prom pictures of us that was displayed on the shelf behind my bed and studied the younger version of me. I had thought myself so pudgy back them, but my bony shoulders clearly indicated otherwise. I looked at my updo with the two carefully curled tendrils framing either side of my face and remembered how my boyfriend had thrown a fit when he realized he had forgotten his Lactaid at home and he had wanted fettuccine alfredo at the fancy country club restaurant. I smiled, thinking about how annoyed I had been at him that night. I still teased him about how he had been such a dud for my Senior prom. Then I remembered something else. I had framed that prom picture two years AFTER we had gone to prom. It had been done in yet another ridiculous attempt to make my college ex jealous.

The first time I saw my college boyfriend's childhood bedroom had been spring break of Freshman year. I had been unpleasantly startled to see it was an ode to girlfriends past. Various memorabilia from his Junior year girlfriend was tacked on one wall and then prom pictures and even a picture of him kissing his Senior year girlfriend hung above the head of the bed. The fact that he had never tacked up a picture of the two of us in his dorm room pushed my insecurity to the brink, especially because I was convinced he still had feelings for both of those other girls. On that chilly spring night I had returned to my own childhood home and had framed up a few prom pictures at 1 AM. Here I was, nearly 6 years later, and I couldn't even recall if my college ex had ever seen the prom pictures that I had so carefully displayed. I didn't think he had.

I snorted in laughter at how ridiculous I had been. How futile it had all been. But the laughter died away when an unexpected rush of tears flooded my vision. I pressed my hands to my eyes, trying to ward off the sobs that threatened to overtake me. It really had all been so ridiculous and futile.

As much as I tried to shelve things that had to do with my ex, it wasn't going away. Coming to Fargo had only triggered more unpleasant memories, especially tonight as I ran errands. Just below the conscious level, there was a horrible realization that I had gotten so very lost from myself in the past several years. So pathetic. Constantly trying to one-up and plant seeds of jealousy in him to assuage the jealousy that constantly roared up in me, whether we were together or apart. Even those times I had dated other guys when we had been on a break, it had been yet another attempt to get his attention. I felt guilty, acknowledging that those other guys had really only been pawns in the elaborate game of my relationship with my ex.

Was that what I was doing with Raj? Finding another guy to fill in the gap? Was I truly unable to be on my own and had become a person who bounced from relationship to relationship in order to avoid ever having to face the ugliness that existed below the surface?

I felt sad to think that Raj might just end up being another fling and nothing more than that. But hadn't those other mini-relationship started out fun and exciting, only to lose their luster a few weeks in? Was that what was going to happen with Raj? Would his seemingly parallel weirdness become a grating annoyance in a matter of days?

I didn't think so. But I didn't know. There was just so much that I didn't know or understand.

Life seemed to be changing so uncomfortably fast. I felt like I couldn't keep up with it, but it wasn't like I had a choice. It was so clear to me now how deeply I had relied on my ex as a life raft. Our relationship had been terrible and we always brought out the worst in each other but it had been my terrible relationship. As much as I had acted shocked each time we split up - and those break-ups had usually been my doing over his bad behavior - it had all been really quite predictable. I had known what to expect. It wasn't like this big scary open-ended life that I was now living.

I set the prom picture back down on the shelf, laying it flat on the shelf this time instead of displaying it and turned out the light. I lay there, trying to sleep, but the questions wouldn't go away.

What was I doing? In every aspect of my life, what was I doing?

To be continued...

More Indoor Activities for Toddlers

2011-10-21T10:56:00.002-05:00

It's getting to be that time of year - six months of winter is coming! Yay! (Nooooooooo. Make it stop.)

In my original post featuring indoor activities for young toddlers, many of you readers chimed in with AWESOME ideas and links in the comments. So awesome that someday I'll write it all up and make it a separate page to click on in situations of winter despair. I could pretend like I'll do that soon, but that would be totally pants on fire.

Here are a few things we've done lately on chillier days (or on baby-napping-and-it's-too-complex-to-leave-the-house days).

Magazine Collages
Oh, my do I heart collaging with a fervor unmatched for any other art project. Always have, always will. I even brought magazine collages to a place where magazine collages were never meant to go: an Honors Shakespeare class in college. For reals. PROOF!

(Somehow got an A+ in that class? What?)

So let's be real clear when I share these next few collage projects with you - it was all about me wanting to collage and I was maybe a little sad that Bella didn't show the project the reverence it deserved. She was half-interested and needed a lot of guidance. I'll have to keep trying. My children WILL love to collage. It must be so.

Supplies - Old magazines & catalogs, glue sticks or tape, markers, large sheets of paper, and we also include those foam stickers that meet a child's band-aid fix with all the peeling off of sticker backings.

Seasonal Collage
Bella is now aware of the changing seasons and loves talking about leaves falling and winter coming, etc. I randomly signed up for a two year subscription to Midwest Monthly (It was cheap? Or something? You can make fun of me, I deserve it.) and I never do anything with the magazine, but I do admire the pictures. And that was enough to inspire all this collaging. We started with a fall collage and I plan to do another with winter pictures and then spring. I would think you could find good seasonal stuff in many magazines, including freebie catalogs like Pottery Barn.

Tree Collage - I cut out leaves using fall-colored pictures and had Bella glue them to a tree. Then she stuck sea-themed foam stickers to it, which was awesome.

House Collage - Fill the rooms of the house with the appropriate stuff. Totally lets me peruse the Crate & Barrel catalog.

Rice & Beans Play Bin
I originally intended for this to be a construction site-type activity for Bella. I filled a large plastic storage bin with dried rice & beans. I thought Bella would have fun with her dump truck scooping & digging (she's very interested in construction), but then she decided it was more fun to pretend to cook. I added the plastic bowls & measuring utensils that we don't use anymore and she goes to town and makes us cakes. I spread an old tablecloth underneath each time and then carefully fold it up and shake the stray bits back into the large bin when we are done.

Homemade Music Shakers
We did this at music class, but it can be easily replicated at home. Fill disposable coffee cups (available at Target) with dried rice or beans or a mix, tape on the lid securely and decorate. Turn on the Pandora toddler station (love) and shake your booties.

Colored Ice Cubes
Got this idea on Pinterest. I froze colored cubes and then Bella played with them in the tub. Just make sure to dole them out slowly to extend playing time. The first time I dumped all 12 in at once and the fun was over in a few minutes. Oops.

Anyone else want to chime in with something fun they did lately? I plan to use Pinterest to find lots more ideas this winter.

But winter isn't really right around the corner, right? LALALALALALALALA!

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 6)

2011-10-18T14:09:00.000-05:00

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

Chapter 6

I was left with a feeling of anticipation after my chance to talk to Raj over lunch was cut short. What was going to happen next? I spent the remainder of the day on Wednesday and all day Thursday hoping - expecting, really - to run into him again. But to my supreme disappointment, our paths never crossed. I tried to think of a reason I could email him, but nothing sprung to mind. What could I possibly say?

Dear Raj,

Feel free to ask me on another group lunch date! Or a real date, while you are at it. Internet porn is funny!

Yours most cordially, Laura

Yeah, that wasn't going to work. Every potential topic that I thought of seemed like too much of a stretch and smacked of desperation. Bah. I was going to have to wait until the following Tuesday, at the very earliest, to see him again since I was spending the long weekend in Fargo. I almost wished that we didn't get Columbus Day off on Monday, because four days seemed like an interminable length of time to go without the excitement that surrounded all things Raj. It been so much easier to have crushes in high school. You were guaranteed a sighting at least five days a week.

The pile of flashcards on my coffee table that Thursday evening brought me back to reality - four long days could be a good thing when you had a lot of studying to do. The exam that would make me a full-fledged dietitian was scheduled for Tuesday morning.

I gathered the flashcards up along with my other dietetic study materials and packed them into a messenger bag to take home - I would give myself the night off from studying. I finished packing up the rest of my weekend bag and then flopped on the couch. I was feeling so restless. Between the stress of the upcoming exam and disappointment over things coming to a standstill with Raj, I felt out of sorts and unable to relax. Maybe I should spend the evening studying after all.

I turned on the TV and idly flipped through the channels, but after attempting to watch that new Joey show for a few minutes, I shut the TV off. I had always been more of a Chandler girl, anyway. Maybe I would watch ER later. Maybe not.

I went into my bedroom with the slightly obnoxious lavender walls - I wondered if my landlord would ever let another tenant choose their paint colors again? - and sprawled on the bed with Team Gray. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes and debated just going to bed, even though it was only 8 pm. I turned to my side and caught sight of the copy of "He's Just Not That Into You" that was on the floor. I had thrown it off the bed in disgust a few weeks before. Purchased at Barnes and Noble in something of a desperate move, I'd hoped that it would give me some insight into my previous relationship and possibly answer that persistent question of "Why?"

I had tried to keep an open mind as I skimmed through it that day, but when I had got to the chapter "He's Just Not That Into You...If He Cheats on You," I had had enough. The pithy, overly smug book had triggered more feelings of inadequacy on my part and not the empowerment they were intending. The message that if he's into you, he'll stick around was hardly a comforting thought when you are trying understand just why someone was not into you enough to stick around. Ergo the book went flying through the air and landed on the floor, never to be touched again...at least for three weeks.

I got out of bed, picked up the book and brought it to the living room where I stuck it on the bookshelf. I didn't want to keep seeing it on my bedroom floor and I didn't want to think about what it represented. Shelve the book and shelve the issue.

If only it were that simple.

The restlessness remained, perhaps more so now than before since I was actively trying not to think about my ex. I slowly looked around, trying to figure out what to do - stay in? go out? - when my eyes landed on my computer. My email. I would check my email. It was always exquisite torture to see if maybe, just maybe, Raj had written me an email. I knew the chances were around zero, but why not check? I didn't have anything else to do. I turned my laptop on, helped myself to my neighbor's internet connection per usual and...

I couldn't believe it. Raj had emailed me.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: Good luck!
Date: Thu, 07 Oct 2004 7:58 PM

Hey, I wanted to say good luck on your test. I know you're studying for it this weekend but I can't remember when you're taking it. Tuesday?

Anyway, I also wanted to ask if you are familiar with Bob Fosse? He directed a film with Liza Minelli called Cabaret and choreographed a lot of Broadway hits like Chicago, etc.? Have you seen any of his work?

Raj

My heart was thumping in my chest. He had emailed me, which meant he had been thinking about me. Raj was thinking about me. Thinking about me enough to email me at - I checked the time stamp - 8 pm. He had emailed me from home. I felt giddy. What if he was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him? Was it possible? That he could be daydreaming about me at odd times of the day and hoping to catch sight of me in the halls? The thought left me reeling.

I read the email quickly again. The Bob Fosse thing was totally out of left field. Was Raj a dancer or something? Hm. That was...random. But interesting. And kind of funny. I knew he played kickball after hearing him mention it in the break room, so I had thought of him as more the athletic type. But maybe he was actually more of a dancer guy? Or a theater guy? Or just a fan? Assuming he wasn't simply harboring a fetish for Fosse, this was seemed to be a pre-date line of questioning. Maybe. Possibly. Was there a Fosse show going on in the Twin Cities? That might explain things.

I pulled up Google in a new window to see. YES! There was a three-show Fosse review going on at the Ordway Theater. He was going to ask me out! Possibly. Hopefully. Maybe?

Or maybe this was just a friendly overture? But...it had to be more than that, right? This seemed a little too random for it to be a casual question between friends. Which meant...

Holy shit. I could end up going on an actual date with the guy I had a crush on. Like an alone-and-just-the-two-of-us kind of date that would make me want to vomit with nerves.

But that was assuming that he was going to ask me out. Maybe he was. It seemed like it. Or...?

My heart thumped even more.

Instead of playing a game and waiting to email him back tomorrow or the next day, I decided to write him right then. I bit my lip and stared without really seeing into the distance, thinking about what to say. He had left it so open and vague - what would be the best response? Then my focus cleared and landed on the book I had just been reading. Screw it. I didn't need to write the perfect thing. I was going to be myself and if he was into me ,then he would be into me. The book was ridiculous, but it did have a point: Be yourself and if he's into you, he'll make sure you know it. For me, being myself meant being a weirdo. He could take it or leave it. And besides, if he did have a Fosse fetish after all, then I had free reign to be as weird as I wanted to be.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: Thanks
Date: Thu, 07 Oct 2004 21:05 PM

Are you asking about Bob Fosse because you'd like to do a dance for me?

Ha ha, just kidding. Yes, I am pretty familiar with him. I did ballet in Junior High and High School and took tap and jazz classes in college. I'm actually taking a community ed tap class right now - the mix of people in it is hilarious. Picture me and an old women, a young boy, and a few others tapping to some country song. I kept wanting to laugh at the situation. It's only a six week course so it should be fun - and a good source of stories.

Have you seen the Little Prince movie where he does a creepy snake dance? That is the dance I would like you to do for me, please.

I don't want to study for my test. Maybe I should become a marine biologist instead of a dietitian. Or maybe I should be a back-up dancer for Prince. Really, the options are endless.

Alright, ER is on. I'll talk to you later!

Laura

I read it over quickly and decided to go for it. I took a breath and clicked to send it. I hoped it would prompt him to reply immediately and ask me specifically-and-without-a-doubt on a date. And hopefully that would happen in the next, oh, five minutes. I couldn't imagine waiting longer than that.

I turned on ER and tried to watch, but the obsessive checking of my email kept me from following the plot. I stayed up until 11 pm, through the news and the start of Dave Letterman, but there was no new email. I needed to get to bed since I was going to be up early the next day to make the four hour trek home.

I grudgingly got myself ready for bed, checking one last time before giving up for the night. As impatient as I was for his next email, I had to admit there was something fun about the delayed gratification.

I climbed into bed and got comfortable and Team Gray formed their usual lumps on the bed beside me. I knew I needed to get some rest, but all I could think was about Raj - had he seen my email yet? - and the possibilities for what might happen next.

A date! Maybe... Probably... Possibly...

To be continued...

Life Lately

2011-10-16T09:19:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I took Bella with me to the co-op while Husband stayed back with a napping Oliver. We got our stuff and I loaded her back into the car and then drove off with our bag of groceries (including all the organic/local meat for the month) on the ground in the parking lot. Took me about a mile to realize it. Luckily, a peaceable and non-thefty co-op patron brought it back into the store and I was able to get it.

Sadly, these kinds of shenanigans not all that uncommon lately. Oliver has been waking anywhere from 4-10 times a night, and it's usually something like 6-7. I haven't slept more than two hours in a row since the day-in-the-life that I blogged about a couple weeks ago. And I only get a nap in once a week or so. WOW. Sleep deprived for reals.

I think Oliver's terrible night sleep is related to the fact that he has started rolling over (Go baby, go!) That took me by surprise since B didn't do that until she was 7 months old (the chub interfered, I think). He is rolling over so often that we had to drop the swaddle. I repeat: we had to DROP THE SWADDLE. Woe. Biggie Smalls still has a pretty big startle reflex so...yeah. Lots of wake-ups.

Daytime has also been rough because my zany, sweet Bella turned into Bizarro Bella overnight. Bizarro Bella (likely a by-product of some aggressive two year molars) is NO FUN AT ALL. Holy balls, friends. Round the clock whining, crying, yelling, tantrums, general naughtiness and begging to take a nap and then not napping. The not napping thing really took things to the next level of difficulty. She needed that sleep so badly and I needed that break from her antics, but it just wasn't happening. I have never felt the level of frustration with her that I have in the past couple weeks and of course, parenting on very little sleep doesn't help. I hated that she was hurting and I couldn't help much beyond a little Tylenol here and there plus popsicles & frozen bananas but I also wanted to flee to Mexico. The last 3 days have seemed normal again but I live in fear of Bizarro returning. Bizarro is a little scary and very, very exhausting.

This weekend I was a bridesmaid for one of my BFFs, Lindsey.
I have known Lindsey since we were four and I can remember thinking she was so pretty and cool even way back then. My first memory of her is her eating lunch with some other little girls at nursery school. I wanted to be her friend cause she was super neat-o and had dark hair and a pretty dress on. We went to different elementary schools but befriended each other in 7th grade when her friend had a locker next to mine. From there we did summer camps and theater and lots of other things together. We were together so much that we would respond to each other's name without much thought in high school. And we also went to the same college. We have lived within a few miles of each other for over 20 years!!! Anyway, she was such a beautiful bride and I got all choked up seeing her come down the aisle. It was such a weird feeling to simultaneously remember her as a little girl and see her in this pivotal moment as an adult. Pretty sure I will be a heap of emotion when Bella gets married. And I can't even fathom what Husband will be like beyond completely inconsolable.

Fun fact! Husband officiated their wedding. It will be his last and he came out of retirement just for Lindsey & Seth. He has now married 10 couples.

I drank 3 small glasses of wine/champagne at the very fun wedding reception (it was over the course of many hours and with lots of food and other NA beverages) and yet I was horribly hungover the next day. Le sigh. I was always prone to nasty hangovers, but it appears that one drink is truly my limit now. Does this mean my partying lifestyle must come to an end? But I'm such a staple at the downtown clubs!

Let's talk about pumping in bathrooms, since I did that during the wedding. WOW, my respect for moms that have to pump at work is at an all-time high, especially those with inadequate spaces for pumping. If Bella had been there with me she would have announced in a loud voice, "I smell something!" Indeed.

I think there were other things I was going to bullet point? Maybe? Like how I'm the youngest parent by 10 years or something at Bella's music class and it makes me feel like a teen mom. Or how our fridge & freezer broke the morning of the wedding just to keep life spicy (SAVE THE BREASTMILK!) Or the joy I feel at being out of vegetable jail now that our CSA is over. There. I was going to tell you those things.

And one more. I'm hoping to get Chapter 6 of the lurve story knocked out in the next day or so. Can't wait to introduce the love triangle that happened between Raj, myself, and this doctor at the hospital where we worked named Derek. He was so dreamy and looked just like the guy who rode a riding lawnmower in that 80s movie. But then this other doctor named Meredith kept messing things up between me and Derek. I mean, wait... (Chapter 6, the version that really happened, coming soon!)

These are the Days of our Lives

2011-10-11T17:00:00.002-05:00

Just like sands through the hourglass, people. Thanks to all for playing along - it was a record number of participants. I do believe we have the North, South, East and West of the US represented, including Alaska and those lovely middle states that no one outside of the Midwest can remember. So let's all crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea! I mean, enjoy frittering away your time on the internet. WHEE!

A Graceful Disaster

Hilde Home

The Blessed Mom

The Antics of the Three 22nds..and their sister!

Live Inside My Bubble

bejogram

Irish Twins Momma's Babybook

Adventures in Tullyland

Dr. Frankenbaby's Monsters

The Fun Has Just Begun

Blessed Life

My Brain, the Baby & Life

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 5)

2011-10-10T10:00:00.005-05:00

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Chapter 5

I kept re-reading that ridiculous email I had just sent Raj. Had I really referenced Paris Hilton to a grown man? He was going to think I was a total teenybopper, obsessed with celebrity gossip. OK, so maybe I did have a subscription to US Weekly, but still. No need to reveal that piece of information so soon in the game. I re-read the email again and cringed once more. No matter how you sliced it, I had referenced internet porn. Internet porn. I groaned again.

I decided to try to shake off my embarrassment by getting away from the scene of the crime. I grabbed my bag from the bottom desk drawer and took off my lab coat, hanging it on the hook on my way out. I glanced around the halls for Raj as I left and felt very relieved not to see him. Oh God, he was probably reading my email right then. Must flee now.

As I drove home I sternly told myself not to check my email right away. Because if he hadn't written, I would feel even more embarrassed and if he had...hm. OK, maybe I would check my email.

I arrived home after an annoying commute (the stop-and-go traffic on the main highways always drove me nuts) and hurried inside. Team Gray twirled around my legs, begging for their dinner. They would have to wait a minute. I sat on the squishy yellow love seat - trying, as always, not to think of all the random people who had slept on it after a boozy night during its prime as the sole couch in a tiny apartment full of girls. I opened my temperamental lap top and using my neighbor's wireless connection, I got online and logged into my Hotmail.

And there it was. One new message from Raj Rijwani. He had written back. I couldn't believe he actually had replied so soon. I took a deep breath and clicked...

I let out a sigh of relief as I read his email, which included his own tasteless joke in response to mine. He got it. Thank God he didn't think I was a creep. Or maybe we were both creepy. Either way, phew!

And then there was another paragraph.

Have a good one. See you tomorrow. Hey, I think a bunch of us will be going out to lunch sometime this week. Want to go?

Raj

I felt giddy with excitement. Lunch! That's was practically a pre-date, right? Or wait. Maybe it was nothing more than a friendly invitation to a group thing - emphasis on the friend part? I stopped the involuntary squealing that I hadn't realized I was doing. Stevie headbutted me, reminding me of his hunger and I absentmindedly reached out to pet him and wondered what exactly Raj was thinking and what he meant by the invitation. Wouldn't it be kind of weird to invite a potential friend to lunch like this unless you were interested in them as more than friends? So it must mean something. On the other hand, he was old, like 30, and maybe that's how older working people did these things?

Of course I would go to the lunch, there was no question about that. My boss would not be enthusiastic about it but the chance to do something non-work related with Raj was worth the potential raised eyebrow look. I decided I would wait until the next day to email him back. I didn't want to look too eager, especially after the last email I sent.

Stevie gave me a particularly aggressive headbutt and Toonses began to howl in desperation, so I got off the couch to feed them. After filling their bowls and storing the cat food on the highest shelf in the pantry - Toonses went to great lengths for food - I stood in my kitchen. The sun was beginning it's slow descent in the sky and the room had a glow.

It seemed like there was so much going on in my life right now. And yet, maybe there was nothing much going on at all. Maybe I was just a girl who was getting over a boy by making a big deal of a crush on someone new. Did it matter, really? Couldn't I be moony over this silly crush until I was feeling stronger on the dating and relationship front? I gazed out the window and saw a couple leaves lazily make their way to the sidewalk below. I decided to get outside for a quick walk around the lake, knowing my days for being able to do so were numbered. I figured I only had an hour or so before it was completely dark out.

There was something so seductive about fall. The best weather, but shorter and shorter days. It had always been my favorite season. Maybe this had been ingrained from the time I was a child and loved school. Or was it just school supplies that I loved? Well, whatever it was, I was going to enjoy the season and make the most of these last few nice days. And I would let myself enjoy this crush, silly distraction or not.

* * * * *

The next morning I sent my carefully crafted email to Raj, telling him that lunch sounded fun and asking him which day it would be. I made sure to sandwich it between two casually funny short paragraphs, I didn't want to appear too eager. Thinking it best, I also I left out any mention of internet porn. I was really hoping he would tell me it was going to be on Thursday because I wouldn't be at work on Friday - that was the day I would head to Fargo to spend the long weekend studying.

An hour and a half later, Raj replied. I marveled at the fact that he was such a quick replier. This email was short and direct: lunch was going to be on Friday and he would get me the details as soon as he found out more.

Shit. Friday. A small part of me was relieved - I wouldn't have to deal with my boss giving me the stink-eye for going off campus and I could also avoid the stress of a social event that involved Raj. I wanted to get to know him better, but it made me so nervous. But a bigger part was bummed. Maybe I shouldn't go to Fargo? It wasn't like I had to go there to study - I obviously could do it in Minneapolis. And that way I could go to the lunch and maybe Raj would ask me out for the weekend and...

No. I shook my head as I found myself making the same old mistake. NO. Hadn't I just spent the better part of the past six years making myself available to someone left and right, just in case? And that had worked out so well. So no. I needed to learn to respect myself and treat myself better. Starting now. If he was "into me", like that dumb book said, he would find a way to ask me to do something again. But what could I tell Raj that would easily open the door to that possibility? Surely there had to be some way to word that email to help make it clear that I wanted to spend time with him, without making it too obvious that I wanted to spend time with him. Hm. How does one say and not say the exact same thing at the same time?

I continued to debate what I would write in my next email to Raj as I went about my morning. I glanced at the clock: 11:40 AM. Just enough time to run lab supplies upstairs to the patient study area. I loaded up the metal cart, every inch of it labeled with our lab's room number - carts were such a coveted thing, and pushed it down the hall to the main elevator bank. As I waited for the predictably slow elevator, I continued to mentally edit that email. More joking? Just the facts about going out of town? Then I reminded myself that this lunch might really just be straight up LUNCH to him. So maybe I was being a total freak by obsessing over what to say in my reply email.

"Hey!" I was startled out of my daydreaming and even more startled to see Raj.

He was wearing jeans (against dress code!) and a t-shirt (double dress code violation!) and had his glasses on again. He gave me a big grin. "What are you up to?" he asked, nodding at the hundreds of blood collection tubes in racks on my cart.

"Oh, just heading upstairs to drop this off. What are you doing?" What was I wearing? Did I have coffee breath? I tried to calm down the nerves that had flared up, reminding myself that (1) I was wearing a cute outfit and (2) I had shoved three Altoids in my mouth five minutes ago when I was pretending they would help my lunchtime hunger.

"I was going to go downstairs and get some lunch." He leaned past me as he hit the down button. His forearms. Oh my. I had always had a weakness for nice forearms.

"Ooh, are you going to get a grilled cheese and tomato soup? That's my favorite." I was struck by that now very familiar feeling of embarrassment. Why must I be such a tool? Grilled cheese and tomato soup? What was I - an 8 year-old?

But then something occurred to me, "Wait? No PBJ today?"

"Ha. No. KJ and Sarah shoved a GI Joe into my peanut butter to be funny." I tried not to snort with laughter. "Yeah, I know. Hilarious." He grinned at me. "Everyone is always trying to mess with my peanut butter. Anyway, I was going to get a sandwich from the sandwich counter."

"Ah. The sandwich counter. I'm not familiar. I tend to be drawn to the Mexican food counter." Seriously? Were these words coming from my mouth?

"Oh, you need to go to the sandwich counter. Maria will hook you up."

I felt distracted by his eyes. They were this intense brown color. I never knew I liked brown eyes so much.

"What? Maria?" I asked. Who was this Maria? Was she hot? I vaguely remembered a tiny woman in her fifties with big hair who worked there.

"Oh, you should talk to her! I got to be friends with her so now she makes me huge sandwiches." He was friends with the random sandwich lady? Huge sandwiches? Why did this guy make me want to giggle all the time?

"Hey, did you see the email I sent you this morning? The lunch for Matt's birthday will be on Friday," Raj asked as more people gathered around us in the elevator bank.

"Yeah, I did see that just now." So much for getting time to say the perfect thing, strike the perfect tone. "I can't go on Friday, actually. I'm going to Fargo to see my parents and study for my dietetic exam - the one that I told you about. I'm taking the test on Tuesday morning." Ask me out for another time. Ask me out for another time.

Oh God. What if he asked me out for another time?

"Well, next time then." Was I just imagining that he looked disappointed? The elevator going down pinged and he stepped on. "See you in the lunch room?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed and chided myself to tone it down. "Yes. I'll be there in just a bit. Say hi to your buddy Maria for me!" I called out to him as the doors closed. Then the elevator going up pinged. It was nearly full, especially since there was a patient in a wheelchair in there, but I really didn't want to wait another five minutes, maybe more since it was the noon hour. I squeezed in and stood between my cart and the elderly man in the wheel chair. I smiled to myself, nervous about talking to Raj at lunch, excited to see him again, thinking about how cute he wa...

"You know, missy, there would be plenty more space in here if you sat down in my lap!"

I looked down at the elderly man in the wheelchair. He had a full head of gray hair and tattoos of pin-up girls all over his arms. I had been given this proposition by at least four veterans in the past year at the hospital working as a dietetic intern and now as a lab employee. Surprisingly, I had yet to take anyone up on their offer.

I smiled down at the old pervert, "Ah, but there's no need!" The elevator doors opened to the fourth floor.

"We're here! Have a good day." And then I pushed my metal cart at a speed slightly faster than an elderly man in a wheelchair could travel.

* * * * *

By the time I finished setting up the study supplies and dealing with several minor issues, a full 45 minutes had passed. As I arrived in the break room, Raj was taking the last bite of his sandwich. Damn. I grabbed my lunch from the fridge - turkey and dijon sandwich, yogurt, carrot sticks - and quickly debated where to sit. There was an open chair next to Raj, but also one next to Ruth. Would it be too obvious if I...?

I casually sat down next to Raj and said hi to the group. Not just to Raj. But pretty much just to Raj.

Matt stuck his head in the door of the break room, "Raj! Something is messed up with my real-time samples. I need to get this data to Kumar by the end of the day."

Raj groaned. "Matt, I can't help you every time. I'm eating. You have the protocol."

"Dude! Help me!" Matt looked frantic.

Raj rolled his eyes. "Fine. It's going to cost you. In beer." He got up and threw away the paper from his sandwich and glanced back at me. "See you later?" I nodded and smiled and felt that now common mixed feeling of relief and disappointment as he left. I turned back to the table.

Ruth had been watching us a little too carefully, with a smirk on her face. Ruh roh. Was it that obvious that I liked him? Or maybe - I almost didn't dare let myself think this thought - was it that obvious we liked each other?

I attempted to give her a casual smile and took a bite of my sandwich. She raised her eyebrow at me, still smirking, and thankfully resumed her conversation with Dan, something about having to rake leaves and her corner lot. And this left me alone to my own thoughts, where I could go over everything that had happened that day.

And as I put it all together, I was pretty sure that something was happening between me and Raj.

Suddenly the bite of sandwich I had just taken felt stuck in my throat.

Shit. Was I ready for a something?

To be continued...

Placenta Eater: A True Story

2011-10-07T19:50:00.000-05:00

Let's start with a spoiler: I think the placenta pills worked.

And now, the rest of the story... (Paul Harvey voice, obvs)

At the very end of June I shared with you that I planned to have my placenta encapsulated.

(Um, it appears that I wrote that two days before Oliver was born. WHAT WHAT? I swear I wrote it weeks before he was born. How is that possible? Isn't it weird how the arrival of a baby splits time so distinctly into before and after and it can feel like a year stretches out between the before and the after? ANYWAY.)

As a quick recap, placenta encapsulation basically means having your placenta dried all Ronco-Food Dehydrator-style and then the placenta jerky is ground up and put into capsules. Consuming your placenta in pills (or placenta smoothies or chowing on raw placenta or whatever floats your placenta boat) is supposed to help with the following:

a quicker recovery
reduced postpartum bleeding
improved lactation (increased milk production)
restored energy
replenished iron stores
reduced risk of postpartum depression

And to reiterate - I find/found this whole process weird and creepy. Super weird and creepy. And yet! The pros far outweighed the con of ickiness, so if I did it, so can you. Repeating what I said in the other placenta post: WHY NOT?

Here is how it specifically went down for me. I had pre-packed a large glass bowl with a tight-fitting lid in my hospital bag, in addition to a soft-sided cooler that was large enough to hold the glass bowl. (It only now occurs to me that we must have re-incorporated that glass bowl right back into our lives for freezing lasagna and whatnot. AWESOME!) Shortly after pooping out Oliver, I mean birthing, BIRTHING Oliver, I delivered the placenta. (That felt like a smaller poop.) The midwife was already aware that we wanted to encapsulate the placenta so she was careful to keep it nice and ... something. I don't know. She just took good care of it. The midwife put it in the glass bowl and then it was put on ice into the cooler. The fresher the placenta, the better the benefits, or so they say.

And here is where I am going to be very helpful-slash-gross and give you a link to the pictures of my placenta, which many of you creepies wanted to see. I created a new Flickr account just for it. God help the people who stumble upon it by accident. I will say, however, the lighting is fantastic. Good job, Husband!

Placenta Pictures

You should know that I did not like having to do anything with those two pictures. NO SIR, I DID NOT.

Once all the post-birth hubbub was over, I gave Placenta Lady Kelly a phone call (highly recommend her if you are in the market for a Placenta Lady). She congratulated me and let me know that she would stop by the hospital later to pick up my placenta. In the meantime, the placenta stayed in its cooler on ice in the corner of the room, where I both eyed it suspiciously and was simultaneously very concerned about it's state of being - JUST LIKE MY NEW BABY! When Husband's family came to the hospital with Bella, he was so excited to show off the placenta. This was the same Husband who had claimed he didn't want his family to know that we were going to be encapsulating it (which I thought was odd of him to begin with since his immediate family consists of a former surgeon who believes in homeopathic and traditional medicine, a nurse, and a hippie-type with a public medicine degree so this was well within their realm of OK-ness). They all wanted to look at it, which didn't surprise me at all.

Anyway, Placenta Lady Kelly stopped by while they were visiting so they would have found out anyway. Something to consider if you do want to keep it a private thing, but I'm sure Placenta People are used to working with those types of concerns. So off went my placenta with Kelly (better her than me!) and she said she would deliver the pills to our house once we were back home. Turns out we would be back home in less than 24 hours and Kelly was able to bring it about one hour after getting home. The pills look like this:

****WARNING - PUTTING THIS PICTURE DIRECTLY ON BLOG*****

They just look like brownish supplement pills, but I want to warn the squeamish. Scroll down real fast to the text under the picture if you are scared.

Placenta Lady Kelly actually came into my bedroom where I was laying in bed due to being so feeblecakes from the hemorrhage. She chatted with me for a bit - explaining more about how to take the pills and their benefits. I love this about hippie birthing things. You can comfortably have a stranger come into your bedroom and talk placentas. I do think I would heart home birthing if I weren't a bleeder.

Speaking of being a bleeder, when she heard about the hemorrhage she told me that the next time (and she was SURE there would be a next time), I should have the midwife - brace yourselves, friends - cut off a piece of the placenta which I would then immediately place under my tongue. It helps to get your uterus to contract much more quickly and prevents hemorrhaging.

Did you just die? It's OK. I did, too.

I think it would take me another 100 years of drinking the hippie Koolaid before I could do such a thing, but probably that means only another two years because being a latent hippie is a powerful thing. So look forward to me telling you about that in 2013. (Please no. I just...can't. I simply cannot.) (Bet I totally will.)

OK. So the plan was to take 2-4 pills a day with juice or wine (!? whee!) and to cut back if I started feeling sort of woozy or experiencing first tri-like symptoms. The pills were kept in the fridge. I took 4 a day (2 in the morning, 2 in the evening) since I was in pretty rough shape with the anemia. It was cool to see that many of the potential problems with anemia are addressed by the placenta pills (i.e. replenished iron stores and increased milk supply). In terms of the pills having a flavor or odor, I did notice a bit of an iron smell and taste. It grossed me out, so I tried to take them fast and not think about it too much. The smell/taste got a little stronger over the several weeks I took them.

But icky taste and the weirdness of dealing with one's placenta would not be enough to stop me from doing this all again. Because I really do think the placenta pills were beneficial. Of course there is no definitive proof of this since there cannot be a matched study. I can't compare my two births to each other since the circumstances were different and I can't compare myself to another woman's experience. So this is all just case study type stuff. But I love case studies, and I do think they have their place.

Without further ado, here is why I believe they did help me:

I never developed postpartum depression even though my postpartum situation was just ripe for it to develop - especially when you consider that I had a history of depression and was dealing with several complications for both Oliver and I - plus I have a needy-pants toddler. I did experience "baby blues", but it only really happened once the thrush set in and it disappeared when the thrush symptoms let up. So I don't know if it's even fair to call it baby blues when it might have just been straight up feelings of being very overwhelmed when having to deal with one more thing. The whole 'straw that broke the camel's back' if you will. Husband agrees that I seemed more even keel this time, despite the multiple added stressors of my postpartum period. There were a couple times I burst into tears, but they were all at normal times, rather than it being so random like it was after Bella. Finally, and this is going to be TMI, my sex drive was back by two weeks postpartum. To which I was like, "What? What is this?" It was not like that during my first postpartum experience. It has remained fairly strong ever since. I don't know about you but having a solid sex drive is a pretty good sign of not being depressed. ANYWAY. Sorry for the overshare. (Not really. BOW CHICKA WOW WOW!)

My iron levels were back to normal by 5 weeks postpartum. This is within the realm of normal, although maybe it's a little on the faster side. It can take a long time for others before their iron is back to normal. Hard to say how much placenta pills played a role in this since I was also good about taking my iron supplement and trying to eat iron-rich foods. However, consuming my own iron via placenta pills to get my iron levels back up HAD to be helpful. It's like a custom-made iron pill!

A common problem with anemia is that your milk is very slow to come in and your supply can be low. My milk came in very quickly and I had over-supply problems. In fairness, I should mention that my milk came in quickly with Bella, too, so maybe it's just my body?

By 6 weeks postpartum I jumped right back into my exercise plan (by then the thrush and anemia were resolved), which was kind of amazing to me since I had been physically restricted during my third trimester and then was practically on bed-rest for weeks after delivery. Did placenta pills aid in this recovery? I think so.

When I didn't take my pills for a few days, I found myself having a harder time. Nothing huge, but more feelings of being overwhelmed and exhausted. Once I resumed taking my pills everyday, I felt better.

So that is my experience with consuming my own placenta, just like our friends in the animal kingdom. I wish I had solid, without-a-doubt proof that placenta pills helped me, but I don't. I wonder what my experience would have been like without the hemorrhage and thrush - I suspect I would have glided through the postpartum period with very few "baby blues" type feelings. Regardless of proof or not, I found placenta pills to be helpful - even if it was just a placebo thing.

Questions? Comments? Anyone else chow down their placenta recently along with me?

Day in the Life - Fall 2011

2011-10-05T20:15:00.002-05:00

There is still plenty of time to participate in the "These are the Days of Our Lives" round-up post for fall! Just get your day in the life done and posted by this Sunday and then email me at navigatingthemothership@gmail.com. More details here.

Sunday, October 2

12:05 AM - Oliver fusses quietly and begins to wake up in his co-sleeper next to the bed. I slide him out (heavy!) and nurse him in bed and then let him sleep next to me.

5:something AM - Oliver wakes again and I put on my glasses and am delighted to see that he slept that long stretch and therefore I got the longest stretch of solid sleep since...March? Or something? Maybe last week? Who knows! HUZZAH, anyway. I feed him and then let him sleep on my chest for this last stretch.

6:00 AM - Oliver seems up and at 'em so we go downstairs. I kind of cherish this "alone" time in the mornings, even though I would love more sleep.

6:05 AM - I change his diaper. Pink because I don't buy into gender stereotypes.

Heh. Actually, it's because Husband is being a total party pooper about buying new cloth diapers to replace the 6 pink ones. Get it? Party POOPER. Soooooo funny.

6:10 AM - Speaking of poop, doesn't matter about the pink diaper because he had his first poop of the day. Switch him to a blue diaper.

6:15 AM - Mmmmmrow? Mrow? MROW? Cats. Not exactly like Folgers in your cup. Needy little creatures. So many, many needy little creatures in my life.

But I still heart you, my cat friends. Let's play Hidden Pictures a la Highlights. How many cats can you see in this photo?

6:20 AM - Blogosphere, meet my 31st b-day present.

6:30 AM - I have some quality one-on-one time with my baby boy and guzzle coffee and also check the extended weather forecast which is completely awesome - highs in the 70s and lows in the 50s.

6:50 AM - Oliver seems to be getting sleepy so I put him in his swing to see if he'll fall asleep. I get a few dishes done and when I check on him a few minutes later he's sleeping peacefully. Easy baby, yo.

7:00 AM - I hear Bella get up. I let Husband get her and bring her to the potty. Then he brings her down to me and is all grumpy, "How come I have to bring her down on my mornings to sleep in?" Aw, poor guy. I agree that it sucks to have to get up when you are sleeping, since, you know, I do it EVERY NIGHT. BOO-YA! She shoots and scores! Husband nods once and says, "Oh yeah" and goes back upstairs. He's a cranky young man in the mornings and not nearly as delighted by my wit as he should be.

7:15 AM - Bella is a bundle of energy, as always. She runs around and grabs her art work off her easel to show me - she is very proud. Then we do some random playing. I believe this is some sort of Dora thing here - she is Swiper and I'm saying, "SWIPER, NO SWIPING!"

Then we play that I'm the cats and I chase after a string that she dangles in front of me. We do about 20 revolutions around the couch. I may have taken pictures, but my pride prevents me from showing you. Just know that my old school Victoria's Secret red velour pants are looking goooooood.

7:30 AM - Fix breakfast for B and I. The oatmeal overflows despite many precautions taken to prevent that. I shake my fist in rage at the injustice.

We add frozen blueberries and brown sugar. Bella requests, "Just a pinch of brown sugar" but then gets mad when I add it to her oatmeal. I realize she means she just wants brown sugar and no oatmeal. Nice try, small fry. She eats a bunch of frozen blueberries and gets many things blue. I note this and do nothing. She also starts in with "I'm ready for a nap." This is trickery as she would never take a random nap at this time and it is basically code for "I'm super cranky-pants: have fun!"

8:00 AM - Oliver blissfully keeps sleeping away. I get Bella set up with her one Dora for the morning (we do one in the AM and one in the PM) and I sit down to do some writing on Chapter 4 of our Love Story.

8:45 AM - Wow! I'm getting so much done. I must be so productive today! I hear the ending song of Dora and go and sit next to B on the couch. Why does the timer on the bottom say 45 minutes? WHAT? Oops. It must have been a special end of the third season episode that was double the length. I tell myself that I will still let her watch a second episode, because it must be that way. It simply must.

8:46 AM - Let's do an art project! YAY. Lasts a whole 8 minutes. She doesn't want to keep painting unless I do it with her. "No, Mommy. You paint with Bella!" Independent play continues to elude us for the most part.

8:54 AM - B feels warm and keeps acting super crabby so I check her temp. Normal, but then I inspect her molars. Ah ha. Two more are busting through.

9:00 AM - Bella and I wake up Husband (he had asked we get him up at 9) and we head back downstairs. I start up my Jillian Michael's Ripped in 30 Days DVD and Husband gets breakfast for himself, which he'll share with Bella. They also make coffee together and she requests some "baby tea" (milk with cinnamon that she gets to shake in herself). Husband puts it in her special mug that he brought her from Paris.

9:15 AM - B runs back and forth between Husband and I and Oliver sleeps on in his swing. He's doing so great with sleep today. It's magic!

9:20 AM - Oliver finally wakes up and I feed Ollie mid-workout (yuck, don't like nursing while sweaty).

9:30 AM - I finish my workout while Husband cuddles the kids on the couch. He announces that it's times like this that makes him want more kids. Then crabbiness/fussiness happens 5 minutes later and he threatens vasectomy come Monday. He's mixed-up like that.

10:40 AM - Potty time. Bella enjoys reading about "Pwoodence" and her pooping escapades. I don't so much enjoying reading about "Pwoodence" and her pooping escapades. Especially since Bella insists I say "Prudence" while she gets to say "Pwoodence." Also, Bella makes me read the special multi-paragraph letter to parents, despite my pleas that it is very boring. "Is not boring, mama!"

Daddy and Oliver hang out in the hallway outside the bathroom and coo at each other.

11:00 AM - Bella keeps acting crabby and Oliver begins fussing so we decide to go outside. The effort it takes to get outside is really frustrating to me and I feel so annoyed - like way too annoyed for the situation, but there it is. I leave Husband with Bella and go downstairs with Oliver to put him in the carrier. And then I realize I'm STARVING. All I've had is coffee and a little bit of oatmeal. Hence uber crabs. So I scarf down some peanut noodles while Oliver fusses in the Ergo. Husband finds me chowing down in the kitchen.

11:15 AM - We get outside, but don't get far as Husband begins to chat with some random guy who lives in the neighborhood and his dogs. But of course. Husband loooooves strangers. And talking to them. Oliver is fussing and we need to get moving. I'm still crabby and low blood sugar. We finally get going and walk half a block when...

11:31 AM - I step in dog poop. As I'm after scraping it off as best I can, I announce that I need to go back home. I'm too crabby for this family walk. Oliver and I head back and Husband takes Bella on a mini-adventure.

11:35 PM - Ugh.

I want to cry, too. But I just eat more noodles to try to get my low blood sugar crabbiness to go away and jiggle Ollie to soothe him.

11:46 - Multi-tasking.

Meanwhile, Bella has a good time with her daddy.

12:37 - Husband and Bella return and he gets her lunch. I'm nursing Oliver in an attempt to get him back to sleep.

1:00 PM - We exchange kids and I get Bella ready for her nap while Husband gets Oliver down for a nap. Bella hasn't wet her diaper at naps or night for a couple weeks and it seems wasteful to use a diaper at those times so I put a cloth diaper insert and a cover on her. She feels really fancy in this get-up and does some hip wiggling in the mirror in her room.

1:25 PM - Two books and three songs and one nap. And seven stuffed animals and three blankets and one pillow. Bella also insists that the books go into the bed with her. I oblige because if I don't, she will get up and load her bed with EVERYTHING in the room.

1:45 PM - I take a nap, too. Ahhhhh.

2:15 PM - Husband very quietly brings a laundry basket into the bedroom where I'm sleeping. And that's all it takes to wake me up. My mama instinct has me sleeping so lightly. Grrrr. (Mad at my light sleeping, not Husband.) I get up and do some chores and take a shower.

3:20 PM - Bella is really crabby after her nap - it's her teeth again. We give her a snack and let her watch her second Dora of the day in an attempt to distract her.

3:45 PM - Playtime on the landing. Bella does one particular puzzle over and over lately. She weirdly struggles a bit with puzzles, but sometimes I think she's just imitating me because I often pretend not to know where a piece will go. (Or maybe I'm not pretending. Maybe I have puzzle struggles!) Then we Skype with Nana and Papa.

4:15 PM - I make the Pioneer Woman Chili recipe (Frito Chili Pie) that caught my eye earlier in the week. Normally I'm not a Frito fan, but they look intriguing in this recipe. B is the sous-chef.

4:30 PM - We decide to go to the park and it takes 20 years to get organized and out the door.

4:55 PM - We made it outside! I love this candid I took.

On the walk home from the park, I told Bella we were going to eat chili with cheese for dinner. Her reaction? "Chili with cheese? Oh boy!" Who taught her "oh boy"? Dora?

5:45 PM - Chili with cheese? OH BOY! I have also been wanting Oktoberfest beer, which is weird for me. What's with wanting weird foods that I don't normally like? Could I be...? (NOOO. I'm maybe more scared now than ever before about accidentally getting pregnant.)

6:00 PM - Bella and the toddler next door shout cute things at each other.

6:25 PM - I get Oliver set up in his Bumbo (with special sticker book head propper) and give Bella a bath, while Husband cleans up the kitchen a bit.

6:50 PM - I start Bella's bedtime routine while Husband gives Oliver a bath.

7:05 PM - We switch kids again. Biggie Smalls after his bath. Cute little chunk.

7:10 PM - Do a mini bedtime routine including nursing and rocking Oliver in an attempt to get him to sleep.

7:30 PM - He doesn't seem tired quite yet (BAH) so we bring him back downstairs with us.

7:35 PM - We stick Oliver in the swing and he's out in a couple minutes. (B was meh about the swing, so this makes the investment feel oh-so-worth-it.) Husband and I indulge in our latest Netflix addiction - Greek - and eat preacher cookies. We have to watch Greek on my MacBook that has terrible speakers so we hold it (in all it's 500 degree glory) on our laps while huddled together because the white noise of the swing hisses behind us. If it all sounds very romantic to cuddle on the couch all hot-like, I can assure you it's not.

9:00 PM - Husband begs me to watch one more episode and says he will do some favor the next day if I do (can't remember what it was - sleep in? dishes? something) so I try my hardest but I fall asleep on the couch in 5 minutes.

9:45 PM - I take out my dried-on contacts, brush my teeth, and crash into bed. I'm having my nightly hot flash. ¡Ay, caramba!

11:00 PM - Time to nurse Biggie Smalls again. I be so tired.

THE END

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 4)

2011-10-04T20:20:00.002-05:00

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I left my apartment to go to work on that first Monday in October, suffering from a mild case of the Mondays. It was officially fall now and I shivered in my jean jacket. Of course, by the drive home I would be sweating in my button down. I carefully climbed down the rickety stairs behind my apartment building and headed to my car. I absent-mindedly ran a finger through the condensation on my windshield...condensation that would soon be frost and then snow...and slid into my car. I sipped my travel mug of coffee, trying to warm up while I waited for the heat to kick in. I backed out and headed down the alley and experimented with yet another way of getting to work. Today's route took me through an idyllic neighborhood by Minnehaha creek, fall colors bursting from every tree but there were way too many stop signs. I would try another route tomorrow.

I was feeling a bit cheated out of a proper weekend as I had spent most of it studying for my upcoming dietetic exam. Or really, making half-hearted attempts to study for the exam. Between the lure of a CSI marathon on TNT, the continued lovely weather that begged me to take a walk around Lake Calhoun, and my mind's tendency to wander lately, I didn't get nearly as much done as I had intended. I decided to head home to Fargo the following weekend with Team Gray, my two gay gray cats. I would have my mom take care of me and be away from the distractions of my apartment and the city.

But being in Fargo wouldn't stop my brain from thinking. Thinking about things like my ex and his new girlfriend. I wasn't nearly as occupied by it - or at least not as hurt - as I had been a few weeks ago but it was still very much there. I had thought he would have made some effort to apologize by now - I deserved at least that, right? But more than an apology, I wanted to know why.Why dump me by a vague email after our long history? Why lie? Why her? And, following that train of thought, why not me? It really bothered me that my ex seemed to be treating this girl so differently than he had treated me. At least it sounded like he treated her better when I got information from our mutual college friends.

I both wanted and didn't want to know more. I knew that I should let it go - new information about him, about her, about them pretty much felt like a punch to the stomach. It had me re-thinking back to those last weeks when he was dating both of us. Putting those pieces together was not a fun puzzle. Revelation #30: so that's why he would never, ever let me hang out with his work friends, yet he went out with them almost every night! 10 points for Encyclopedia Brown, minus 100 for my self-esteem.

I turned onto the frontage road that would take me to the hospital parking lot and immediately my mind went to Raj. Now that was a far more pleasant diversion for my brain than reviewing reasons why I was dump-worthy. I wondered what Raj had been up to that weekend. Was he dating someone? That thought occurred to me for the first time. A crush on a taken guy really wouldn't work for me, especially with my anti-cheater stance now set in stone. I wondered how I could find out without revealing my motives? Because surely I would die from embarrassment if Raj heard through the grapevine that I was asking if he was seeing anyone. It was another case for Encyclopedia Brown.

As I arrived at our 3rd floor wing I noticed a bright yellow sign on the bulletin board. The words "email Raj Rijwani to RSVP" at the bottom of the sign had caught my eye. I quickly scanned it. Ooooh - he was doing another training session. This one was taking place the next day. It was a perfect chance to see Raj again and this time it would be a guarantee that he would be there, unlike the break room stalking.

I stopped by my boss's office and immediately felt awkward and uncomfortable as I stepped into the tiny space overflowing with piles of manuscripts and scientific journals from the past 30 years. She looked up at me with a smile that didn't quite come across as authentic - her eyes held a look of annoyance. I persevered with asking my question. "I saw that they were offering another session about real-time PCR. Would you like me to attend? It's tomorrow afternoon."

Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.

She said yes and even look pleased that I was seeking out the opportunity. I felt a tiny twinge of guilt but told myself it was all very justifiable. I hurried to my lab, pulled up my email and wrote to Raj. The act of writing an email to him - typing his name! - felt thrilling.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe*
Subject: RSVP-ing
Sent: Mon 10/4/04 8:03 AM

Hi Raj,

Are there any openings left for the Real Time PCR training session tomorrow?

Thanks,
Laura

I clicked to send and then stared at the computer screen. Surely he would take half a second to reply, right? I rolled my eyes at myself and turned my rolling office chair to my second, non-internet-connected computer and began to work on a spreadsheet. I was getting super fast at entering number data and got cheap thrills from pushing myself to go faster and faster. Maybe I should have been an accountant? Or a statistician? Or a grocery store clerk? Meh. That reminded me about the upcoming RD exam and the need to study. I was tired of the student role but the working adult role wasn't so hot either.

In addition to the data entry, I also refreshed my email on the other computer every 2 minutes. I was showing restraint.

Refresh. No new mail. Refresh. No new mail. Refresh. No new mail. Refresh. You have one new message.

J. Crew was having an online sale through October 5th. Damn.

But then his name popped up in my inbox, triggering quite the physiological response in me and I audibly gasped.

This was ridiculous. Surely he did not have the same reaction upon seeing my email. Actually, he probably didn't even know my name. Laura Guiseppe could be anyone to him. And who was to say our "big eye-contact moment" was nothing more than, well...nothing?

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Re: RSVP-ing
Sent: Mon 10/04/04 8:37 AM

Laura,

Hey. Yes, there are still spaces available. I'll put you on the list. See you tomorrow.

Raj

Meaningful eye-contact or not, I was in. Game on.

* * * * *

After using my security badge to get into the other research wing, I made my way to the room where the presentation would take place. As I remembered what this presentation was actually about - learning a complex technique versus scoping out a guy - I once again made a silent wish to never have to actually do it. My heart simply didn't lie in learning and mastering primer dimering or extracting mRNA to replicate DNA or whatever it was that it did. Although if I was having trouble, then I could seek out help from the expert...? I quickly nixed that idea when I realized how stupid I would look. It would be clear I hadn't been paying attention.

I saw Raj bent over a large machine fiddling with something. Be still, my heart! Another man was setting up a video camera pointed at Raj and the intimidating machine. There were about 10 other people in the room. I was glad to see the others - I had purposely come right on time to avoid any scary one-on-one encounters with Raj. Even though that was exactly what I wanted.

The presentation began and the vibe was much more relaxed compared to the first presentation, probably due to the much smaller audience. Raj was...just plain weird in a delightful way. Kind of goofy and quirky. But not typical nerd quirky. In fact he seemed a bit out of place among the academics. He seemed too social or something. He also seemed a little unprepared, and yet it didn't reflect badly on him. He was smart and clearly knew what he was talking about, but he didn't seem the type to get fazed by a casual presentation. I liked how confident he was, even though his handouts could have used some editing.

As Raj stood next to the machine, the man with the video camera zoomed in on the place where you put the sample of DNA. A woman I didn't recognize shouted something about how this was going to be a 50 minute video of Raj's package given his position right next to the machine.

Raj looked up and grinned and I was kind of shocked because I was just prissy enough to be shocked and also...well, it was a reference to Raj's crotch! And the use of the word package was ridiculous. I felt like I was witnessing a scene in a Sexual Harassment at Work awareness video.

The man with the video camera laughed and panned back and the presentation continued. When it finished, most everyone stood around chatting. It was nearly the end of the workday and everyone's attitude seemed pretty light given the crotch shot thing. I smiled to myself when I thought about what my boss's reaction would have been to this presentation.

Raj finished talking with an eager-looking graduate student and came over and leaned against the counter next to me where I was talking to Dan and Matt. I had been hoping that he would do just that but now that he did I felt an urge to bolt.

"So do you think your lab will start doing this anytime soon?" he asked me directly.

"Oh, um, maybe! Not in the near near future though." I could feel my face betray me as always by turning red. Raj asked what our lab did and I explained we did diet studies on men with diabetes. This in turn had me telling him about how I was actually trained in nutrition and would be taking my dietetic exam the next week. The other two men were participating in the conversation, but it was hard for me not to just ignore them and give 100% of my focus to Raj.

And, once more, I got the impression that there was something there. That he was also finding the others to be a distraction. That we were having a two-person conversation that just happened to include four people. Our eye contact was a beat too long, we were standing an inch too close and this was all just way too exciting for a room filled with an ice machine and thousands of dollars worth of molecular biology equipment.

The room became to clear and, not wanting to appear obvious, I said goodbye to the group and made my way back to my lab.

Even though it was almost 4:30 and I would have been free to leave in a couple minutes, I sat down at the computer and logged into my email. I impulsively typed up an email to Raj.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: Video on Internet
Sent: Tues 10/5/04 4:28 PM

Just think...soon the video of your crotch will be all over the internet.

You will be just like Paris Hilton.

Laura :)

Immediately after I sent it I was filled with horror and regret and cursed this world we lived in where you couldn't edit-undo a sent email. Oh my God, what had I done? Now I was the one guilty of doing something that would fit in perfectly with a 'Sexual Harassment at Work' video. I was pretty sure Raj would think it was funny but what if it made it obvious that I liked him? Instead of this email, maybe I should have slipped a note under the door to his lab, carefully folded up into a geometric shape, that had boxes to check - yes, no, maybe so - about whether he liked me or not.

I groaned out loud. I was such a disaster.

To be continued...

*More fake names. I only wish my maiden name had been Guiseppe.

Letters to Oliver - 3 Months

2011-10-03T14:02:00.001-05:00

Dear Oliver,

You are three months old.

For the record, you are not The Chosen One. It's just the sun and I was too lazy to re-do the picture. I'm afraid you are a regular Muggle like the rest of us.

But you are a jumbo-sized Muggle, so that's kind of fun, right? As of this morning you weigh just over 18 lbs (!?!) and are beginning to wear size 9-months clothing (!?!) I kept needing to loosen the straps on your car seat every time I put you in there and I thought it was weird that they kept getting so tight in between car rides. And then I realized it was YOU who was growing so much between car rides. Your growth rate is astonishing. My back, child, my back!

Look at your cheeks. Just look at them!

You are such an awesome baby. You are not only easy to care for, but you are just so sweet. You coo and squeal and are quick to share smiles and now laughter.

Oh, little man, your laughter makes me so happy. I do this crazy dragon breathing thing and you crack up and life is pure lovely.

You are getting stronger everyday and like to practice assisted standing (i.e. you do that stiff leg thing where you won't sit on our laps). You don't even mind tummy time! Bella insists on practicing tummy time with you so her neck strength is also in top condition these days.

You adore your big sister. You love watching her do her toddler thing. And she adores you, too, buddy. The other day I propped you next to her and she put her hand oh-so-gently on your chubby knee and then you put your hand on top of hers and oh. What can I say, but I love you both so much?

It has been a challenging time as I adjust to having two kids to call my own. It's hard due to the sleep deprivation and lack of personal time and it takes so much energy to meet the many needs of two little ones all day long. And that's not even touching on the stuff that makes it really hard to be a parent. The vulnerability, the endless abyss of scary possibilities...it can be so daunting. But then there are moments when we are all together, just doing our thing, just being a family, and it feels so right, so perfect, that I can't imagine life could get much better.

This is what life is like right now. Tired-but-happy mama and daddy, big sister doing something crazy, and baby brother watching his sister with fascination.

Isn't it great?

Love,
Mama

Day in the Life Reminder

2011-10-01T11:45:00.000-05:00

A reminder that this is the week to document a day-in-the-life if you wanted to participate. I had been planning to do today, but totally forgot until now because my brain has turned rathere sieve-like. It's awesome. Especially when you are the electrician dude who came by the house at 4 pm yesterday when I was nowhere to be seen. (Sorry, electrician dude.)

Re-posting the deets below and check out this post if you want more info.

Pick a day between Saturday, October 1 - Friday October, 7 and take pictures all the live-long day. You might want to keep notes of what goes down so you don't forget later on when typing up the post. I often will take pictures that I know I won't use, but will serve as a reminder of what was happening.

Make sure to include pictures of YOU during the day, even if that means mirror self-portraits (turn the flash off!) or using that good old timer. And don't forget to include pictures of the mundane - your make-up on the bathroom counter, the messy office desk, your lunch, what you bought at Target, a note your spouse scribbled for you. That's part of what makes it so interesting.

It's up to you how detail-oriented you want to be. I go detailed, but there is no need for you to do the same.

You need not have a baby on your hip to play along. I actually prefer it to be a mix of people in all different sorts of lives.

You will need to have your Day in the Life post published on your blog by Sunday, October 9 and you need to email me when you are finished: navigatingthemothership@gmail.com I will publish the round-up post on Tuesday, October 10.

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Part 3)

2011-09-30T11:29:00.001-05:00

Part 1, Part 2

After seeing Raj present about that, uh...technique thing for DNA (or was it RNA?) on Monday, I found my thoughts turning to him again and again. I couldn't stop myself from mentioning 'that guy at work' to my mom, my sister, and my friends. He was so different from any crush I had ever had. I told them he was "cute" - the same terminology I had used for Dustin B. back in the fourth grade - but he wasn't a cute boy. He was an attractive man. I think that was sort of wigging me out a little bit. Raj was an actual man with an adult job and not a college guy or just-out-of-college guy. I had never had a crush on a man dude before. But whatever. It's not like it would actually turn into some big something if we were to date. He could be my rebound guy! A fun distraction while I got through this dumb time.

I began to take more time to get ready in the morning. Instead of throwing on whatever clothes that would qualify as work clothes (the lab coat covered a multitude of fashion sins), I was carefully selecting items that would highlight my best features. Makeup was applied and I played up my big blue eyes (the better to see you with, man dude). My short blond hair was actually attended to. At work I found myself changing up my routine in hopes of running into him - a thought which was both exciting and completely nerve-wracking. I began to take breaks in the actual break room instead of running down to grab coffee in the cafeteria or going outside for 15 minutes. I ate lunch closer to 1:00 PM, instead of 11:30 AM. This left me nearly ready to gnaw off my arm, but a small sacrifice for the greater good.

While I didn't run into Raj (Didn't he ever take breaks? Where was he?), all that time in the break room did offer a side benefit - I started getting to know the other employees. When it was just one or two people, I felt far less intimidated and they also seemed much more open and friendly. So I met Matt, Dan, KJ, Ruth, and the others. I hadn't realized just how lonely I had been at work until I made these new friends and was able to goof around and laugh with them in the break room.

But where was Raj? All this primping was for naught and I was not one to primp without a darn good reason.

On Thursday I heard Matt mention his name at lunch time. He was laughing about something Raj did the previous day. My ears were pricked and I tried not to look like I was paying too much attention, when actually I was hanging on every word. So he was around here somewhere.

The next day I entered the break room just before 1:00 pm. I had taken extra time on myself again that day, just in case. I popped my Lean Cuisine into the microwave and took a seat. And then he walked in.

AHHHHHHH!

He was dressed up - tucked-in button down shirt and suit pants and belt - and wearing glasses. He was really, really, really ridiculously good looking. I could feel my cheeks once again threatening to reveal all. I felt incredibly overheated and had to take off my lab coat. Well, the better to see my curves with, right? Act casual, ACT CASUAL, I instructed myself. He went to a cupboard and got out that enormous jar of peanut butter and then went to the fridge and took out the enormous thing of jelly and an entire loaf of bread. Everyone had quieted a bit while they watched this production. I couldn't help it. I started to laugh.

"What?" he said, looking at me with a smile.

"I'm sorry, it's just - well, it's a lunch that would make any fourth grader happy. Or possibly an entire class of fourth graders happy!" I said in a joking voice. I couldn't believe I had said that. I mean, I had certainly thought it, but I couldn't believe I had said what I was thinking to Raj. Several of the people in the room laughed.

"He eats it every single day." Ruth said, rolling her eyes.

"Every day?" I looked at him and the eye contact felt so intense that I almost found it hard to breathe. You are easy, breezy, I told myself. Think Cover Girl! Think non-spaz! Cheeks - stop blushing. Armpits - you will cease and desist this sweating immediately.

Raj took the remaining seat in the room, which was fortunately/unfortunately across the room from me. The room returned to the usual banter, but unlike just a few days before, I was a part of the banter. I was able to participate in the conversation and even - thankfully - come across as funny. I could feel Raj smiling at me as I made some quick witty remark to something Matt said. I was having fun. At work! And I was in the same room as my crush. I felt...it took me a second to identify it...happy.

One glance at the clock told me that Boss Lady would not be happy if I stayed in there another minute. I gathered my things and said a generic, "See you later!" to everyone when really I silently screamed, "RAJ! DO YOU SEE ME? I'M LEAVING! LOOK AT ME!!!" (OMG, don't look at me.)

I returned back to the lab and Angela, the physician and PHD candidate who worked peripherally with our lab, was entering data on the computer. I loved when she was in the lab with me because she was kind and sweet and also because having company made the time pass faster. Unfortunately, she was only around once every couple weeks.

"Hey!" I said in greeting, "How are you feeling?" Angela was in her second trimester with her second child. She had told me a horrifying story the last time we had talked. Apparently she had thrown up on the drive into work because her morning sickness was so bad. And she had talked about it so nonchalantly! Like how she had just pulled over and puked into the grass at the side of the road. I could not begin to imagine such a thing. How could you ever get all la-di-da about something that was clearly the worst thing in the world? I shuddered. Surely I would never be in the same boat. It just...couldn't happen. I wouldn't let it.

"I'm feeling much better, thanks! And how are you doing?" she looked at me with concerned eyes. I had also not been in the best place the last time we talked. Angela had noticed that I seemed sad and she asked if everything was OK and I had (of course) begun to tear up. I had told her about the Great Dumpage of '04 and she had been so sympathetic and angry on my behalf. Hearing advice from a 30-year-old who had been there had been really helpful. It had been completely embarrassing to cry in front of someone I didn't know very well, but the side benefit had been that it sped up the get-to-know-you period in our friendship.

"You know what? I'm doing really good. Things are going so much better." I smiled and set my stuff on my desk. I went to the freezer to get the blood samples that I would need to thaw for that afternoon's experiment.

We chatted back and forth as we did our work and I wished again that we could work together more often. During the lulls in conversation, I thought more about Raj. He really was cute. Man cute. I wondered how old he was. Hm.

"Hey, Angela?" I tried to sound casual. Play it cool, reeeeal cool. "Do you know who Rajit Rijwani is?"

"Um...I don't know. I don't think so. What does he look like?" she glanced over at me.

"Oh, he's probably around six feet, has a shaved head - or maybe he's bald?" I tried to remember which it was, "His skin is light brown - I think maybe he's Spanish?" I wanted to add something about how hot he was, but I figured that might be revealing all my cards a little too soon should it turn out she was friends with him.

"His name is Rajit Rijwani? Preeeeetty sure that's an Indian name," Angela answered laughingly. "But no, I don't know him. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I just, was..." my face was getting red and she was starting to smirk at me. "He cute. That's all. Just wondering if you knew him."

She smiled at me knowingly, "Cute, huh?"

"Yeah. Sort of. I guess. Hey, do you know where the radioactive iodine is?" I fooled exactly no one with my abrupt subject change. She grinned once more and told me where I could find the chemical. We each returned to our work.

So Rajit Rijwani was an Indian name. And apparently I should have known that from the beginning. Per usual, I felt kind of dumb and young at work. But now I knew something about Raj that I could file away. However, one tidbit wasn't enough. I wanted to know more. This crush was taking on a life of its own.

The work day ended and I was actually feeling pretty good about the upcoming weekend instead of seeing it as a void of time I needed to fill in order to distract myself from all that thinking about the break-up. I walked through the gigantic hospital parking lot (scanning for Raj, of course, but not seeing him) and got into my car.

I lowered the window as I drove to my Uptown apartment and loved the feeling of the breeze on my face. I thought ahead to my plans for dinner and a movie with my friend that night, but my brain kept pulling my thoughts back to Raj. I mentally played back when we had made eye contact earlier that day. I might have been imagining it, but I could swear there was an actual something there.

To be continued...

Closet Situation: Dire

2011-09-29T12:07:00.001-05:00

In addition to still craving licorice, the desire to nest lingers. I went through my closet and armoire last week and sorted through all the clothes I own. It didn't take very long. My big goal was to get all the maternity clothes out of there (begone you with your belly-paneled ways!), but while I was at it I removed anything that was stained, ill-fitting or a relic of the past that needed to be moved to the costume bin (see leather mini-skirt from '99). Here is what I'm left with in my closet. "Closet" a relative term, naturally.

The left side are a few dresses that won't work with nursing boobs plus bridesmaid dresses. The right side are dry-clean-only business clothes, sweaters that don't work with nursing boobs and button-down shirts that won't button down. See that tiny amount of clothes in the middle? That is what I can wear now and in the upcoming months as my chest remains in a state of boobiliciousness. It's a few dressier tops, a couple dry-clean-only black sweaters and two hoodies that I really should have purged. Except for those old, stained hoodies, these are not exactly things that work for a stay-at-home mom.

Now let's look at what's left in the armoire.

T-shirts. Camis that are mostly too short on my longest-torso in the world (which will henceforth be called a lorso thanks to reader, GirlinNW!) and ride up due to my curvy figure. Practically-antique sweatshirts and sweaters (except for one that my sister hand-knitted and is gorgeous but hand-wash-only and therefore not baby or toddler safe). It might look like I have four pairs of jeans, but two are super muffin-toppy and the other two don't zip right now. All but one pair are from 2006 or earlier. Even my exercise clothes are dire. Most of them have lost their elasticity after 10 years of hard use and two pregnancies. As I run I have to hitch them up every few steps. Same with my underwear. It's awesome. The drawers contain bras, underwear, lingerie, swimsuits, socks, and a few pairs of running shorts, so they don't offer me much unless I want to bring back the trend of lingerie as day wear. Perhaps I could pair a negligee with black tights and call it good?

Two weekends ago I had a moment where I realized that the sweater I was wearing wasn't fit for donation to Goodwill because it was in that bad of shape.

What. the. hell.

Stacy and Clinton would have a field day on me right now. Do I not respect myself? Am I so mired in mommyness? Have I given up?

The answer is a mix of my body being in a fairly constant state of change since August 2008, our budget not having much room for clothes shopping given our own personal baby boom, and the fact that I hate to shop because I find it difficult to pick out flattering things for myself. But even those excuses don't excuse how bad it has gotten.

Husband recently got some new clothes for work. I see him looking all snazzy and sexy-business-manly and I get a little rrrrrrow! about it. And then he puts on his William & Mary sweatshirt for the 1,000th day in a row and it's back to business as usual. But those rrrrrrow moments from just appreciating how good he looks are fun.

I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that he doesn't have similar damn, girl! feelings when he sees me in my pilled, decade-old sweater with the huge hole in the armpit that I pair with a once-white-now-pinkish maternity camisole and stained muffin-top jeans.

I am a vision.

I shouldn't make it sound quite so bad. I can get it together when I need to. I wore this to music class with Bella last weekend and while it's hardly great, it's OK. Black yoga pants, red flats, white maternity cami (more lorso-friendly), purple cardigan, red bag, black scarf. Mostly cheap Target stuff.

Weird position because I wanted to show the shoes...not trying to be coy sexycakes.

Somehow in realizing just how out-of-control my clothing situation has gotten, I feel more energized to fix it. Like I said in an earlier post, we have budgeted for clothing since we are both needing new threads. (Actually all four of us need more clothes. Thankfully, the cats are doing OK on the clothing front.) But I get overwhelmed easily with shopping thanks to the combo of my lorso and hour-glass figure. It takes about 2 seconds for me to cross the line from subtly sexy to straight-up hoochie thanks to my Joanie curves. Fun at times, yes, but mostly frustrating for me. And the lorso means that shirts and tanks are too short and my love handles ooze out and then when I pull them down my cleavage oozes out and AAAAAARGH. And now add 15 extra postpartum pounds that will take another few months to get off. Plus I need clothes that are nursing-friendly. So it's a challenge to dress me right now. But I will persevere! Because, clearly, I need to.

At this point, I truly need everything. Shoes, underwear, new nursing bras, accessories, shirts, pants, sweaters, exercise clothes... Everything.

Help. I don't really know where to start. Anyone have any brilliant ideas or other websites I need to check out? I have made a few small steps. I bought new red flats at Target that you can see in the picture above (my one pair of cheap black flats have a hole in them - shock!). I ordered a few long-sleeved t-shirts that are nursing-friendly plus two washable cardigans from J. Crew. But that's just a start. A lot more needs to be done and buying one item a month is not going to be enough.

SOS! Otherwise I will start wearing the negliee with black tights and I fear that will affect my ability to fit in with my peers at the playground.

One Year Later

2011-09-28T14:51:00.001-05:00

Just about one year ago to this day I wrote This Time I Cried. I talked about how after four months of trying to get pregnant, this was the cycle that finally pushed me to the point of shedding a few tears, even though I knew that four months was nothing really, and completely in the realm of normal.

But I was longing and very ready for that second baby. I had prepared for it mentally and physically and yet that "womb available" sign was still lit up.

Sixteen days later I was pregnant.

* * * * *

Yesterday I stood at the stove with a fantastically big almost-3-month-old baby on my right hip and stirred the Chana Masala that we were going to eat for dinner that night. Big Sister was upstairs taking her nap, so it was just me and the little guy. I cooed and baby-talked to him about the spices we were adding and asked if he could smell them. His eyes were getting droopy so I gave him a big old smacking kiss on the forehead and walked into the living room to buckle him into his swing for his nap.

But before setting him down, I stopped for a second. I could smell the Chana and the Pandora station set to Ingrid Michaelson was playing from my computer and I appreciated how cozy our home felt on this rainy fall day.

Then I had one of those transcendent moments were, for once, your brain stops all of it's chatter-chatter-chatter. I was as in the moment as I've ever been. I bent my head forward and breathed in my baby's scent, his fine hair tickling my nose.

I am so lucky.

Day in the Life Next Week!

2011-09-27T16:07:00.000-05:00

Oooh, the fussypants in me is not happy that there is no official Day in the Life for this summer. I guess the whole baby-born-on-July-1 situation (followed by being feeblecakes, yeasty drama, etc.) messed that up. I suppose that is a reasonable...reason. Reasonable reason? My sleep-deprived brain is marveling at those two words together.

Moving on!

I will be doing my quarterly Day in the Life post next week - or the first week of October to be specific. If anyone else wants to play along, all you need to do is pick one day to document between October 1-7. You will take photos throughout the day and then type up a post about your day and let me know the link. Basically the point is to have a record of what life is like right now. A snapshot in time, if you will. (And you will!) I will put together a round-up post with links to all of the Day in the Life posts so we can stalk each other.

We'll have so much fun and we all get to be life-long friends!

[Did I ever tell you that I was a Pink Lady in my high school's production of Grease? Except I was mostly there for filler and the dance scenes and didn't get to talk? My friend Lindsey was also in the mute-dancer-Pink-Lady position and we just kind of bopped around and nodded a lot with big smiles during the cafeteria scenes and ate approx 4 Little Debbie snacks each performance because we were supposed to be eating lunch and - hey - there was nothing else we needed to be doing since we didn't have lines. Totally worth how tight our costumes got by the end of the run. Because Little Debbie is Big Delicious.]

Moving on!

Specific Rules/Guidelines/Suggestions/Whatevs (See how I cleverly worded that appeal to a range of personalities from fellow Type-As to laid-back surfer types?)

Pick a day between Saturday, October 1 - Friday October, 7 and take pictures all the live-long day. You might want to keep notes of what goes down so you don't forget later on when typing up the post. I often will take pictures that I know I won't use, but will serve as a reminder of what was happening.
Make sure to include pictures of YOU during the day, even if that means mirror self-portraits (turn the flash off!) or using that good old timer. And don't forget to include pictures of the mundane - your make-up on the bathroom counter, the messy office desk, your lunch, what you bought at Target, a note your spouse scribbled for you. That's part of what makes it so interesting.
It's up to you how detail-oriented you want to be. I go detailed, but there is no need for you to do the same. (High-five to the laid-back surfer types!)
You need not have a baby on your hip to play along. I actually prefer it to be a mix of people in all different sorts of lives.
You will need to have your Day in the Life post published on your blog by Sunday, October 9 and you need to email me when you are finished: navigatingthemothership@gmail.com I will publish the round-up post on Tuesday, October 10.

Here are some of my previous Day in the Life posts if you are totally confused by my ramblings:

Spring 2011

Winter 2011

Fall 2010

And one of the round-up posts (Spring 2011 was mysteriously destroyed by Big Blogger):

These are the Days of Our Lives Winter 2011

Who's in?

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Part 2)

2011-09-26T13:20:00.003-05:00

Part 1 here if you missed it last week.

It was nearly time to flip the calendar over to October. While I was still reeling from the truth behind my recent break-up, life was sorting itself out. I was less emotionally fragile and had been working hard to keep myself busy. In addition to my daily ragercise, I had signed up for a community-ed tap class that met on Wednesday nights. Any remaining gaps in my time were filled in by friends and family.

My friends had been really great to me - joining me on walks, taking me on girly dates, and listening to me lament about my situation for hours on end, even though they had been listening to me talk about this guy for YEARS. My sister had even flown in from the East Coast just to comfort me. My humpty dumpty pieces, once scattered all over the ground, were getting picked up and sorted out and put back together. I was going to be OK. (But still...FUCKER FUCKER FUCKERHEAD FUCKER. OMG, he has a new girlfriend living with him? When he wouldn't have begun to consider that with me? FUCKER FUCKER.)

On that last Monday in September, I was sitting on a tall stool pulled up to the lab bench. It was early in the morning and I was counting out four sets of 126 test tubes, which I would then label with a Sharpie and place neatly into racks. I mutually loved and hated this mundane lab work. Boring as hell, but also very satisfying in it's black-and-whiteness.

My boss, in her clicky high heels and knee-length skirt (pantsuits were saved for weekends only), came into the lab. She did this each morning around 8:05 AM. I suspected it was only to check that I was there on time. She also "happened" to stop into the lab before and after lunch (please keep it to 30 minutes or less, thanks) and again at 4:28 pm. I was as onto her monitoring my every move as she was onto me spending just a hair too much time analyzing data on the computer.

She handed me a flier with something of a flourish. "I want you to attend this." I looked at the information printed on bright yellow paper. Something about a training session for doing quantitative real-time polymerase chain reaction. Which was...? I had very little clue. It looked painfully boring. "We might want to do this in the future and it would be good if you knew the technique. Plus you could meet some of the employees in the other labs since you have been working here for a couple months now."

I was puzzled and a little amused at the notion that she now wanted me to meet the other employees. She had made it fairly clear that she preferred that I did not socialize with other employees and that I kept my nose to the grindstone in our lonely corner lab. While I am a introvert by nature, this working environment was ridiculous. There had been a couple incidents where I had been talking with an employee from another lab in the hallway and she had passed by with her eyebrows raised. Same with anytime I was making a phone call in the main hallway during a break - and I was only making phone calls in the hall because I worried that making them in the lab gave the wrong impression when she happened to walk in. So I was curious about why she would want me to actually meet these other people. God forbid we begin to talk to each other regularly and take away precious minutes from my work.

Why was I here in this job? As a student who had dreaded the labs for my science classes in college it made no sense. As the daughter of a scientist who wanted positive attention from her father, it made more sense. Plus, there was the whole I just finished my dietetic internship and I don't even know if I want to be a dietitian anymore and besides, there are no entry-level jobs factor. Regardless, I took the job on a whim and now found myself being required to attend a training session about quantitative real-time polymerase chain reaction. Neat.

I smiled and took the flier and promised I would attend it the next day. She did her curt nod thing and spun on her heel, her long white lab coat swirling behind her. She left the room and the door shut and I was back alone in the big lab with only my radio tuned to the classical music station for company. I was taking a time out from pop radio as it made me tear up unexpectedly, which was horrifying. I was healing from my break-up, but I was still way too vulnerable for my liking. I wanted to fast forward my life and just be OVER it and him and the situation.

I returned my attention to the task at hand. See boss? I am a hard worker! With all the test tubes labeled and set-up complete, I got out the necessary items to run an experiment on Study Patient #3's urine. I put on my own long white lab coat (such a status symbol after the short white coat I wore the year before as an intern) and went upstairs to get the pee sample that #3 had left that morning. Study Patient #3 was a 60-year-old veteran who drank too much coffee. He had never told me that he drank coffee. I just knew it. Because I could smell it. In his pee.

Oh, this job.

* * * * *

The next day I scarfed down my Lean Cuisine (Vegetarian Lasagna) and Yoplait (key-lime, fat free) in the break room at lunch, feeling awkward as always in there. People seemed very cliquish, but nerdy cliquish. I felt...not nerdy enough for them, which seemed kind of ridiculous. I wanted to yell, "I am a nerd! I swear! I do logic puzzles for fun!" But I felt just shy enough not to want to push myself on them and besides, they didn't seem to be looking to expand their cozy group. I decided the easiest thing to do would be to avoid the situation; I mostly ate outside since it was still nice out. There wasn't time for that today, however. I needed to get going to the training session.

I walked down the hall to the training room, as ready as I would ever be when it came to acquiring knowledge about quantitating polymerase chain reaction. And now I could do it in real-time! Versus...the past? The future? Fake-time? I was going to feel like an idiot. Maybe I wasn't nerdy enough to sit at the cool nerds table at lunch after all.

As I entered the room I got a small thrill to see that guy - the hot guy I'd seen the week before in the hallway outside the gym - standing in the front of the room. Oh! He must be the presenter. He was making several peanut butter & jelly sandwiches.

Wait, what?

I looked closer, sure I was mistaken. He had one of the cafeteria trays in front of him, with five slices of bread spread out on it. And next to the tray were two jumbo-sized containers: one was strawberry jelly and one was peanut butter. Was this part of the demonstration? Was he making some sort of appetizer for this talk? An appetizer of PBJ? I was fascinated and confused. And determined not to eat a PBJ made from an economy-sized bin of peanut butter.

I took a seat at the large table and set my notebook and pen down on it. I wrapped my lab coat - a security blanket, for sure - around me against the overly air-conditioned room. People began to pour into the small space and soon it was standing room only. Mr. PBJ's eyes got kind of big and he put his tray of sandwiches on a small table behind him. So they weren't an appetizer? Maybe they were his lunch? But he was going to eat lunch while presenting to a group? Who was this guy?

"Wow!", he said. "I didn't think this many people would come. Guess I'll have to eat my lunch later!"

It was his lunch! And he had been planning to eat and present at the same time! Who eats peanut butter and jelly while trying to give a talk? And why did he have jumbo-sized peanut butter and jelly with him? I wanted to start giggling, but it felt about as appropriate as giggling in church given the quiet room. That only made me want to giggle more. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Everyone will think you are crazy. Mr. PBJ looked around, his eyes briefly alighting on me.

I forgot about laughing. My heart skipped a beat and I couldn't help but smile a little. And blush like a fool. Stupid give-away cheeks! He'll know I think he's cute. DOOM! I quickly picked up my notebook and began writing in it in an attempt to hide my cheeks. Not having anything in particular to write, I found myself writing my name on the top of the page. Like a 5th grader. Oh God.

And then Mr. PBJ began to speak. He introduced himself - his name was Rajiv Rijwani*, but he went by Raj. Hmm. That didn't sound Italian. Was it maybe Egyptian or something?

I sat up a bit in my seat and began to take it in the presentation. Amplifying DNA...mRNA...reverse transcriptase...primer dimers...blah, blah. I sincerely hoped we would never do this in our lab, because whoa Nelly. Although I could get behind saying primer dimers on a regular basis, the rest of it was just not my thing. Deadly boring.

But while the topic may have been boring, the speaker wasn't. At least, looking at the speaker wasn't boring. I gave that my full attention. I would totally be up for some primer dimering with that guy.

Whoa, Nelly!

Did I just think that? Wasn't I supposed to be all broken hearted and done with guys forever? Except this guy seemed really cute. And smart. And I did want to get to the bottom of that peanut butter and jelly situation. Maybe a harmless little work crush would help the days go a little faster.

To be continued...

*Fake name! But his real name has the same vibe.

Weekly Plans

2011-09-26T11:34:00.001-05:00

If you didn't catch Kelle Hampton's excellent post about Fitting it All In last week, I encourage you to take a look. It was so timely for me as it came one day after I wrote about how challenging it is to get things - even basic things like showering - done right now. Kelle talks about how all the priorities in our lives are like horses in a race and sometimes one horse pulls ahead (cooking dinner!) while others fall behind (cleaning, exercise, time to stare at a wall, etc.). But then the next week it can all shift and you can rock at keeping the house clean, but the time spent actually showering or brushing your hair is around 5 minutes for the whole week.

Something about the horse race analogy brought me some calm about how chaotic life is right now. Instead trying to juggle balls - and having most of them fall to the ground - I can think of it like things are in constant motion. It's just that some priorities are a little behind this week. Next week they might be ahead.

So what fell behind this week? Cooking dinner. I didn't have the time or energy between fighting a little cold and having Oliver suddenly doing the every-two-hour-waking thing several nights in a row. I did OK with exercise, but only completed four workouts versus the six I was hoping for. But on the other hand, I did get a bunch of errands run and I spent more time writing. So I did good enough.

Good enough. Good enough. Good enough.

Good enough needs to be good enough right now.

Last Week's Meal Plan (Actual in Green)
Monday - Veg Lasagna (freezer) & Salad
Tuesday - Pot Roast, Green Beans
Wednesday - ~~Tofu Stir Fry w/Broccoli & Green Beans~~ Papa John's Pizza & Salad
Thursday - Leftovers Whole Wheat French Toast, Scrambled Eggs, Applesauce
Friday -Take Out Old Spaghetti Factory Take Out
Saturday - ~~Chicken Tikka Masala~~ Chipotle Burrito Bowl
Sunday ~~- Dal over Basmati, Steamed Spinach~~ Quiche (Freezer), Green Beans

Last Week's Exercise Plan (Actual in Green)
Monday - Run, Stroller Walk
Tuesday - Jillian's Ripped-in-30, Stroller Walk
Wednesday - Off
Thursday - ~~Ripped~~ Stroller Walk
Friday - ~~Run~~ Stroller Walk
Saturday - ~~Off/Ripped~~ Run, Stroller Walk
Sunday - ~~Run~~ Ripped

This Week's Meal Plan

Monday- White Chicken Chili (freezer) and green beans
Tuesday - Crock-Pot Vegetarian Lasagna and salad
Wednesday - Indian Chana Masala, Roasted Broc & Cauli
Thursday - Leftovers/Take Out
Friday - Leftovers/Take Out
Saturday - Stuffed Cabbage Rolls and vegetable
Sunday - Chicken Tikka Masala and salad

This Week's Exercise Plan
Monday - OFF
Tuesday - Run
Wednesday - Jillian Michael's Ripped in 30 DVD
Thursday - OFF
Friday - Run
Saturday - Ripped
Sunday - Wildcard

Goal Setting Tip

2011-09-23T13:40:00.001-05:00

Hi. LAMEST TITLE EVER, right?

Anyway, I randomly thought of this idea this week on a run and I personally think I'm an A-#1-Top Genius for thinking of it, but maybe it's full of the duh. I don't know. You decide.

So my post-preggy weight loss slooooowed to a dead halt for several weeks. Now I know this is partly due to the way postpartum weight loss works and partly due to the fact that I'm putting on muscle like a mofo (what up, Jillian?), but it was mainly due to the fact that I was eating too much. I'm still really excited about having the ability and desire to eat with no repercussions of the vomiting or reflux variety. (I continue to feel glee about my pregnant symptoms being gone on a daily basis. I can walk! I can run! I can drink all the fluids I want whenever I want! I can lay on my stomach AND my back! I can get off the floor! I can bend! Turns out a more symptomatic pregnancy means a more appreciative postpartum period.)

Anyway, I've been eating too much and therefore the weight isn't coming off and therefore my clothes aren't fitting and therefore I had a big crying fit last Sunday when I needed to get dressed in something other than old yoga pants or muffin-top jeans. Having a vague goal of eating better wasn't cutting it because it (and everything else) gets lost in the shuffle these days. So I needed a clear goal and I needed to figure out a way to keep it in the forefront of my mind.

When goal setting it's best to write it down and then put it somewhere that you will see it and actually read it. More than once a day is ideal. I used to put stuff like this in my planner, but I barely look at the thing anymore. So I got the brillz idea to write the goal as a calendar event in my iPhone and then get reminders twice a day - once at 7 am and once at 5 pm.

It has worked brilliantly. Twice a day I got a reminder to be mindful of my eating. And guess what? I was and I've dropped a couple pounds like they are hot this week.

There you be with your tip. Helpful? Or totally lame?

PS - I'm going to do this with all sorts of things in the future. Reminders to "just breathe" when I'm feeling stressed. Or to "be positive/grateful" when I'm being Negative Nancy. The possibilities are endless...

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story

2011-09-22T06:18:00.001-05:00

It was September of 2004 and the soundtrack from Garden State was in constant rotation in my Discman. The weather had been gorgeous so far that month: nice day after nice day after nice day. I was extra aware of the weather because I had spent an unusual amount of time outside that month. But my time outside didn't have much to do with appreciating this particularly lovely fall. Nope. I was outside because I was doing some serious ragercise.

I was in a state of fury like I'd never been in before. And my need to ragercise had me walking endlessly. Walking, walking, walking, followed by a kickboxing class to mix things up, and then back to more walking. If I wasn't ragercising, then I was crying, so ragercise seemed the way to go. I needed to move my body in order to not ruminate over what had happened, what was happening. And even when my brain wouldn't shut up, at least my thinking felt a little more clear and a little less depressing while in motion.

What was my problem? My on-again-off-again boyfriend of six years - the college guy - had just flipped the switch to a permanent off position in the most spectacular fashion. By dumping me in a two sentence email. Because he had a new girlfriend. Who was only 19. And he was her boss. And she was living with him. And they had been dating for several weeks. Several weeks when he had also, ahem, been dating me. (Of course I found out about the new girlfriend stuff AFTER the email.)

And this is why I needed to ragercise. Because Lordy, was I feeling rage. Blinding, burning, seething WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE YOU FUCKER-FUCKER HEAD sort of rage. With a healthy side of just plain hurt. Getting dumped hurts. Getting dumped because he was cheating? Hurts even more. Whatever; it all just hurt a lot. I felt physical pain from the hurt.

After avoiding the truth for the past 5 years and 10 months, I was forced to finally face facts. This boy? He was just not that into me.

Ah, yes. The *brand new* book, He's Just Not That Into You, was taking the nation by storm. Even Oprah was in on the game and had featured the author, Greg Behrendt, on the show that month. Oddly enough, my mom was the one to bring the book to my attention. We had been talking daily since I found out about the cheating the week before.

"You know," my mom's voice sounded muffled as I held my boxy blue cell phone to my ear, "I was half-watching Oprah yesterday and she was talking about how sometimes a guy might be 'just not that into you' and you have to learn to walk away. It reminded me of how it was for [He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named-College-Guy-Slash-Voldemort] and you." I was wandering around outside the hospital during my 30-minute lunch break from my laboratory assistant job. The rage and need to ragercise never stopped, certainly not after hearing YET ANOTHER song about cheating on the radio. Goddamn Usher and his confessions.

"But...doesn't that concept kind of suck?" My mom and I were in a closer and suddenly more adult place in our relationship after I finally came clean about what happened with He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named. I had quit telling her anything about me dating him after break-up #5 (or was it break-up #7? Or 10?) Since this was break-up #13, it had been a while since I had told her the truth. She had known the whole time, of course. Mothers know these things. But since we were now closer and nearly friend-like, I figured I could start saying words like "suck" in front of her.

"What do you mean?" she asked somewhat distractedly as she typed on her home office computer at their (formerly my) house in Fargo.

"I mean, doesn't it suck that you just aren't good enough for a guy to want to be with you?" I had started to cry. Again.

"Oh, Honey." The sound of typing had stopped. "That's not it at all."

I didn't get it. Couldn't get it. Partly because I was still in that early RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE part of being dumped by a cheater-cheater-pants but mostly because I had somehow stunted my maturity with that ill-paired college relationship. It would be a long time before I could grasp the concept of "He's Just Not That Into You" and more importantly - "You Are Fabulous Just As You Are And It's Not Worth Your Time or Energy To Keep Being Into Him When He is Clearly Just Not That Into You." In other words, it would take some time to learn the basic lessons of self-esteem.

And so I talked the ears off my mom, sister, and friends during those days. And ragercized. And began to slowly figure out who I was when not defined by a guy. Up until then I had used the following measure for self-esteem: Boyfriend gave me a lot of attention that day? I'm fabulous! Boyfriend was distracted and kind of rude? I must suck. Trying to find a new system for determining my self-worth felt mostly overwhelming but also - when I dared to admit it - exhilarating.

However, for the most part, life in those days felt horribly uncomfortable and much too raw. I hated being in my own head, in my own skin. I didn't know how it would be possible to ever trust a guy again. Statistics about cheating kept smacking me in the face and SERIOUSLY? Half of all people cheat? What was the point?

I decided that it would be me and my two gray cats from here on out. I would read my more-appropriate-for-postmenopausal-women books and watch terrible rom-coms on the DVD player that He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named had oddly given to me for my birthday just weeks before (unwrapped and days late...he just wasn't that into me, you see. Also: guilty) and eat my Lean Cuisines for dinner and drink my red beverages (Bull or Wine, depending on the hour). Life would go on in a new way; I was meant to be alone. At the ripe old age of 24.

Time marched on and the weather got a bit cooler and I continued to move forward with my life. Sometimes it was a plodding one-foot-in-front-of-the-other step but at other (albeit brief) times I found myself feeling light and joyful. The light bit may have been from all the ragercise, though. I had started to workout after work in the little physical therapy gym that was available to hospital employees, in addition to all the other exercise I was already doing.

One afternoon, with the sun at an alarmingly lower place in the sky than it had been just a month before, I finished my workout using the rickety machines in the hospital gym. I pulled my damp 'Tulip Power' T-shirt away from my skin and grabbed my stuff. As I walked down the wide, sterile-smelling hallway, I passed a guy in the hall. It had been so long since I had felt attraction to a random guy that it took me by surprise.

He was extremely fit and quite attractive, sexy even, and maybe Italian? or something? Darker skin, anyway, and deep brown eyes. He had on blue shorts and a t-shirt. He smiled at me and said something inane about how great it was that we can work out at work. I smiled back and agreed, "Yes! It is!"

I was suddenly conscious of the way my purple workout shorts liked to migrate up to my crotch and how sloppy I looked with my sweaty ponytail and stained t-shirt from high school that had Dutch children kissing on it. We each continued on our way.

Well. My heart was beating double-time and I was far more flushed than my workout should have left me. I kept doing that weird smile thing that happens when you are trying not to grin but the edges of your mouth keep popping up against your will and you look all sorts of crazy.

Wow. Who was that guy?

To be continued...

Reader Question: Children & Nutrition

2011-09-21T13:21:00.002-05:00

Erin asked "What are your thoughts on the impact of parents on children's eating habits? How can you set your kids up to have healthy eating habits from the start?

Ooooh girlfren, you are looking to start the drama on this one, aren't you?

I'm kidding, but this is one of those topics I generally try to tread lightly on as it's easy to come off as preachy or even rude, especially when you are on the pro-local-and-organic-eating side of the equation. So I apologize in advance if I do come off as being either of those things. It is not my intention. Eating and food choices are very personal and made up of a hundred different factors from taste preferences, to budgets, to how we were raised, to our mood and beyond. It's complex. There is no "right" way of eating, but I think we can all agree that there are better ways to eat - even if the specifics (organic or not? all vegetarian or some animal protein? butter or low-fat tub margarine?) are incredibly murky. I can tell you that the specifics of what I consider to be the ideal way of eating has evolved greatly over the years and it continues to change.

So today, instead of giving a bland PC answer to Erin's question, I would like to share my (potentially irksome) thoughts because I do have some strong feelings about food and nutrition. I love eating and cooking and am full of ze passion (to be read with an Italian accent, plz) when it comes to the nutrition of my family. And if you are a new reader, I should mention that I'm a dietitian so I'm not just an everyday food asshole, but an educated-in-nutrition food asshole. (Does that make it better or worse? That is the question.)

With Bella we got really lucky. She is an excellent eater.

I am amazed by it and love that meal times are generally a happy time (aside from all the spilling/food falling on the floor/messes/toddler tantrums). I know that her great eating might disappear in the next couple years because kids do that. But then again, she might just be an awesome eater for life and WOO HOO! Jackpot for me on that one. I am also in the fortunate position of having the time and money and personal desire to provide quality meals and food for my family; I recognize that many people simply cannot afford the organic produce or spend 30-60 minutes in the kitchen each day.

But we are not perfect eaters (because it doesn't exist!) and I don't do everything up to my self-imposed high standard all the time. Sometimes I let Bella munch on crackers even after a snack or before a meal, knowing it will probably mess up her appetite. I often let her eat a snack in front of a tv show. She has been getting more processed food (like Annie's Mac & Cheese or those addictive Fage yogurts with fruit) than I originally intended for her to have. I've had to accept that I don't have the time or energy to feed her ideally all the time. But I try my best. And if I didn't do so hot today, then I can do better tomorrow. Same with myself. Same with you. The moral of this story is to aim high, do your best, don't worry too much when you miss the mark, and keep on keeping on. Want to sing Kumbaya now?

Onto the questions...

What are you thoughts on the impact of parents on children's eating habits?

I think a parent has a huge impact on their children's eating habits, but I also think that the child has the ultimate say in how they eat. To explain further - I think a parent can do everything "perfectly" and if their child is a crappy eater then their child is a crappy eater. Once that child is no longer so little, however, I bet all that hard work will pay off and that kid/adult will eat well. But if a parent offers mainly highly processed food and fast food and eating times and places are erratic AND their child is a crappy eater - then you are setting up that child for a life of bad nutrition. Bad nutrition in childhood can be overcome, obviously, but it's a lot more of an uphill battle.

Having Oliver has been further proof to me that parents can only have so much say in their children's behavior. Take the Babywise/Baby Whisperer philosophy of eat-play-sleep as a routine for babies (i.e. eat and then play and then sleep and repeat times infinity). I tried pretty hard to get Bella to follow that while still feeding her on demand, but she wouldn't take to the schedule. She was all over the place with naps and eating and playing. It just wasn't happening. Oliver? A perfect little eat-play-sleep baby, even with me feeding him on demand. Without me doing a thing. They are different kids and they have different behaviors, even with the same parents. This is why I think that as parents we can do our best, but the kid has the final say.

How can you set your kids up to have healthy eating habits from the start?

I subscribe to the philosophy presented by Ellyn Satter, a nutritionist who specializes in children. I recommend her books if you are having eating struggles in your family or even if you just want to know what the heck you are supposed to be doing when it comes to feeding your family. Her philosophy is that the parent is responsible for the what/when/where and the child is responsible for how much and even whether they eat. She further clarifies the parent's role as:

Choose and prepare the food
Provide regular meals and snacks
Make eating times pleasant
Show children what they have to learn about food and mealtime behavior
Not let children graze for food or beverages between meal and snack times
Let children grow up to get bodies that are right for them

From Ellyn Satter's Division of Responsibility in Feeding

In addition to Satter's points, here are a few more things to consider:

Role-Modeling: Your kid's healthy diet starts with you aiming to have a healthy diet yourself. Not perfect (remember: it doesn't exist!), but striving to be balanced and versatile. What does that mean? Make sure there are veggies at dinner each night and ideally lunch, too. Include protein, carbs, and fat at meals. Look for color on your plate - the more color, the more nutrients (most of the time - artificial colors need not apply). Eat with your kids - maybe not everyday, but try to at least a few times a week. Even if your toddler refuses to eat that night (whee! fun family time!), they are taking in the fact that her parents are happily eating a balanced meal that includes vegetables. And that is enough some nights. Let them participate in grocery shopping and cooking, even though this will increase the time you spend doing these things by approximately 500%.

I will admit that role-modeling is why I eat my desserts after Bella goes to bed most nights. Plus I don't like to share. Haha. Sadly, though, she is beginning to catch on to our little post-bedtime shenanigans and I am forced to really confront whether it's a message I want to send. (Answer: probably not and we are cutting back on dessert frequency and portions - WEEP McSOBBERTONS!) Overall, however, I eat SO much better now that Bella is here than I did before I had kids. I never would have thought it would work that way, but it does make sense. You want to be a better person for the wee ones.

Finally, consider that you need to role-model appropriate language around food. Avoid "Ugh, I really shouldn't be eating this!" or "This is so bad for you!" with treat foods. The goal is to not label foods as good or bad and potentially create issues down the road, especially in this time of abundant eating disorders and odd eating patterns ("last supper" mentality before a diet, bingeing at holidays because it's socially acceptable, etc.). And on the flip side, don't make such a big deal about how GOOD and HEALTHY vegetables are. Keep all foods even steven and avoid singling out any particular food. I completely recognize that this is easier said than done, but it's something I aim for.

Healthy Eating is Not Simply Nutritious Eating: Remember that food is not simply about nutrition. It's about family time and having fun and new experiences. I read The Surprising Power of Family Meals: How Eating Together Makes Us Stronger, Smarter, Happier, and Healthier over 5 years ago when I was working with children regularly, but I still think about the information presented in that book. I can't wait to do theme nights and even freaking tablescapes to make meals fun. We will have pizza and pop nights in front of a movie and I declare that to be HEALTHY. So bake cookies with your kids and embrace the mess. Have a picnic on the living room floor on a random weeknight. Use cookie cutters to make a sandwich or french toast more exciting. Add green food coloring to food on St. Patrick's Day. Decide to spontaneously go out for ice cream on that last warm fall night. This is where the concept that food is fun can be solidified and it also takes the pressure off combining family & eating in an idealized -and often impossible - way.

Facing Food Reality: I think one of the biggest challenges we face in feeding ourselves and our kids today is that there is a major disconnect between the ideal diet and the reality of our world. Good tasting food that is high in fat, calories, sugar, and salt is cheap and ubiquitous and just so much easier sometimes. McDonald's is always, always an option. That is the reality. So I would rather try to teach Bella how to handle the crappy-yet-tasty foods by using moderation rather than saying "NO, NEGATIVE, NEVER, ABSOLUTELY NOT" when it comes to fast food or highly processed foods. Because there will be sleepovers, school trips, and vacations with Nana & Papa (and eventually college) and I would rather she not binge on it at those times because it will be a complete novelty. I'm trying to find a balance between an ideal diet and keeping life normal and fun. So unless we move to some remote island that has no fast food restaurants or grocery stores with chip aisles, they will be included in our lives on a treat basis. It's far too much work and not necessarily healthy to ignore the reality of the world we live in. This goes back to avoiding an all-or-nothing mentality that can be a set up for failure. So I have let Bella have McD's fries on occasion (but will admit to wincing when Husband gave her a bite of a McDonald's chicken sandwich) and won't be opposed to her having a happy meal here and there as she gets older. I don't love the thought of her eating those things, but I remember my own Happy Meal treats as a kid. And I turned out just fine, now didn't I? (Don't answer that.)

The Specifics of Healthy Eating at Casa Mothership

Bella gets what we eat for the most part. I strive for lots of local foods and organic food, specifically when it comes to animal products and produce. We eat vegetarian at least 50% of the time, if not more (and that usually means beans or lentils as the protein source, not just cheese). I scale back the hot spices a little bit (like cayenne) in my cooking, but don't decrease the garlic, curry powder, or onions. Bella mainly drinks water and plain milk (soy & regular). This is how we eat most of the time. MOST. Not all of the time.

Breakfast

Bella usually eats some of Husband's Kashi cereal with soy milk (he's lactose intolerant) and an orange (I weaned those kids off their morning OJ) or I make us oatmeal with frozen blueberries and a little brown sugar. Weekend might be fancier - whole wheat french toast and eggs or maybe even the occasional donut (occasional = every month or two). She will often have a second serving of fruit like a banana and a cup of milk, too.

Lunch might be the same leftovers I'm eating or a or pb&j (whole wheat bread, natural pb, organic jelly) and a side of vegetables. She loves mac & cheese (I make Annie's organic shells & cheese with greek yogurt and always stirs in frozen peas) and things like "tex-mex" (rice, beans, cheese, salsa and avocados). When I make a batch of the mac & cheese or tex-mex, I freeze the reaminder in her old baby food ice-cube trays. If I'm tired or in a rush, I'll give her the organic version of spaghettio's (Annie's brand). Bella also has fruit and milk at every lunch.

Dinner is what we are having plus milk. If she is eating before us, then it is food similar to what we would give her at lunch.

Snacks include cut fruit, string cheese, applesauce, yogurt, organic cheddar bunnies, craisins or other dried fruit, granola bars, and sometimes cut veggies.

Dessert is a favorite fruit (peach, cut grapes, frozen blueberries) or a little portion of cookies or cake or whatevs a few times a week.

For more ideas on fun things to feed kids check out the website Weelicious.

So there's my answer-slash-book to the question about children and nutrition. A leeeetle bit over the top in terms of details, but that is my way. Maybe I'm missing my career a tiny bit? Anyway, promise I'm not all irritating about this stuff in person and will happily go eat some DQ with you. I like my blizzards with double toppings...but I will probably only eat half of it. Excess with moderation, yo.

Weekly Plans

2011-09-19T15:07:00.000-05:00

I continue to feel surprised at how little time I have. Why am I surprised that a toddler + a baby = no time? NO IDEARS. I think it's actually more of a matter of me not wanting to accept how little free time I have. And it's also me not wanting to accept that "free time" equals time to do chores, cook, exercise, shower, etc.

But would you believe that it's freakishly lovely to do those basic-needs type of things lately? Like I'm singing a la Snow White while wiping down counters in the kitchen and getting runner's highs like you wouldn't believe each time I'm pounding the pavement because it actually is incredibly nice to do these things uninterrupted. Cleaning counters = nice time? WHO AM I?

You know what's even nicer than cleaning counters? Besides almost everything, I mean? Naps! Reading ~~US Weekly~~ Martha Stewart Living! (WHO AM I?) Watching four hours of Greek (Husband and I are bizarrely obsessed) because I can and no one will stop me! WHAT WOULD THAT BE LIKE? I CAN'T EVEN FATHOM IT!

Um. Hi. I'm tired. Enjoying how cute and bubbly and smiley my little boy is in his bouncer next to me, but T-to-the-I-to-the-R-to the...what comes next? Can't remember. Too tired. I was so going to nap today, too, but the kids did their usual baton-hand-off when it comes to napping. I really can't imagine what would happen if we were to have 3 kids. Like HOW does that even work? And how does one, how to put this...not die when they have three or more kids? Inquiring minds want to know...

Anyway, I'll quit my ramblings and post my stuff. I did pretty well last week with following through on plans and I can't too mad at myself for missing two workout days because I opted to do really fun things with that free time instead. Things like showering and cooking a meal.

Wait, inquiring minds have another inquiry. When does this get easier with the two kids thing? It does, right? SAY YES SAY YES SAY YES and not just to the dress.*

And a disclaimer because I don't want this to come off like I'm unhappy or not feeling fortunate with all that I have. I am happy and I do feel very, very - even wildly - fortunate. But it's just kind of crazy feeling right now, you know?

*Am allowed jokes like this during this time of impaired brain functioning.

Last Week's Meal Plan
Monday- ~~Chicken Enchiladas with Crudites~~ Chipotle Vegetarian Burrito Bowl
Tuesday- ~~Cabbage Rolls (freezer meal) with Salad~~ White Chicken Chili & Salad
Wednesday-~~Arugula & Leek Quiche with Fruity Spinach Salad~~ Cabbage Rolls & g beans
Thursday-V~~eggie Lasagna (freezer meal) with Salad~~ Quiche
Friday-~~Take Out~~ Chicken Enchiladas & Cucumbers
Saturday-Leftovers/Take Out/Freezer Meal - Frozen Pizza
Sunday-~~White Chicken Chili~~ Pesto Pasta

Last Week's Exercise Plan
Monday - Couch-to-5K 6.3, Stroller Walk
Tuesday - Ripped in 30 Days Level 1 (RL1), Stroller Walk
Wednesday - ~~C25K 7.1~~ Off

Thursday - Off
Friday - RL1, Stroller Walk
Saturday - Ran 28 min + 10 min walk, Stroller Walk
Sunday - ~~RL1~~ Off
Notes - Lots of muscle soreness this week, but not so surprising since I'm back to running over 25 minutes at a time (yay!) and using new muscles with the Ripped DVD.

This Week's Meal Plan
Monday - Veg Lasagna (freezer) & Salad
Tuesday - Pot Roast
Wednesday - Tofu Stir Fry w/Broccoli & Green Beans
Thursday - Leftovers
Friday -Take Out
Saturday - Chicken Tikka Masala
Sunday - Dal over Basmati, Steamed Spinach

This Week's Exercise Plan
Monday - Run
Tuesday - Jillian's Ripped-in-30
Wednesday - Off
Thursday - Ripped
Friday - Run
Saturday - Off/Ripped
Sunday - Run
Notes: This is a stretch, but hopefully it will happen and I won't be too sore.

Reader Questions Part 2

2011-09-18T18:38:00.001-05:00

Irishtwinsmamababybook asked..."What's your discipline with Bella? Do you think it will be the same with Oliver?

We do time outs with Bella. They are very short - only a couple minutes - and we try to reserve them for big offenses like hitting or throwing something with the intention to hit a person. Basically for times when someone could get hurt. This works fairly well for her since she is so social and depriving her of our attention is upsetting. Afterward we briefly ask her if she understands why she had a time out and we might ask her to say she apologize depending on the situation. She often will apologize on her own without us asking, sometimes a couple hours after the fact. So far it seems to be working pretty well, but if she is teething or in an otherwise funky mood then I don't know if the time outs have any impact. And to complicate things, sometimes she gives herself a time out! I think she wants a break, but doesn't know how to articulate it, so we are trying to change our phrasing and ask her on occasion if she needs "a break" so that she can calm down before behavior escalates. I am allllll about her learning to take breaks/play by herself!

I would anticipate similar discipline practices with Oliver, unless he is the kind of kid who is perfectly happy sitting on his own for a few minutes in time out. Then we might have to find something else!

Erin asked..."I know you said you probably didn't want to risk another pregnancy, but were hoping for a larger family. Will you make a permanent decision about that at some point? When's the cutoff for you? If you do decide not to get pregnant again, would you consider adoption?"

If Husband could choose he would decide right now that we are done and would call to get fixed (haha) today. As crazy and exhausting as life is right now, I'm just not ready to make that permanent decision. Each time he brings it up I ask him to drop the issue for now. I guess I just always imagined 3 kids since I am from a family of 3. But 2 kids seems a zillion million times easier. I have a blog post half-written in my head on this, but for now I'm mostly mixed up. Obviously if Husband really prefers no more kids, then that is that, but I know that deep down he would open up to having one more if it was really important to me. If we were to have a third, I would prefer no more than 2-3 years between Oliver and this potential last baby. Mostly because I don't want to have the baby/toddler years go on and on. I did ask the midwife at my 6-week postpartum visit about the risks for me medically in terms of another pregnancy, and she said it could all be managed fairly easily so I'm less concerned about blood-type/antibody mixing and hemorrhaging now. And I don't think we would do adoption. I've seen how heartbreaking (not to mention expensive) the adoption process can be so I would think we would either stop at 2 kids or do the baby thing the old-fashioned way once more. But the thought of having a cute little Indian girl (since Husband is half Indian and was born in India) has crossed our mind a few times. However, it's just not that simple and we know it!

Erin also asked "What are you thoughts on the impact of parents on children's eating habits? How can you set your kids up to have healthy eating habits from the start?

I accidentally wrote a novella in response to this one, so I'll publish it separately as a post. Turns out I have a lot to say about nutrition. SHOCKING!

Zerodoll asked, "How have things been working out with Husband after new baby arrived?

Things are going well, but the newborn phase is really hard and challenging for both of us. We are big sleepers by nature and the jagged sleep just suuuuuucks. I think we are both doing a good job of checking in with each other and trying to make the other happy in whatever ways we can. Plus, we have the experience with Bella to know what works and what doesn't for us. One thing that doesn't work is having Husband help out during the night. He started a new job shortly after both Bella AND Oliver was born, which meant that he really needed to be on top of things right from the start. But the bigger thing is that he is just a super slow waker-upper. Like he will be very confused and "Hmmm? Wha? Did you say something?" and the effort it takes to rouse him and then physically get him going is wildly irritating in the middle of the night. He doesn't do this on purpose, but it's impossible for me to let him take over when I still have to do the work of being the one to hear the baby and then wake him up x3, you know? So anyway, by never expecting or having him do night feedings it's gone much smoother for me in that regard. And on the flip side, he knew I would be a little unbalanced and easily upset during these first few months, so he just lets me be a little crazy/bossypants/critical and knows this too shall pass. In other words, he doesn't provoke the bear. And to balance out me getting up at night, he usually deals with Bella first thing in the morning most days, giving me a chance to get a little extra rest. He is doing extra chores around the house/asking me what I would like done to keep me happy, even though he could give a rat's ass if the house looks tidy. He has also been the one to encourage more babysitting help with Bella as needed so that I can get a break. We seem to naturally try to find things to do to make the other's life more pleasant and there has been a lot of thanking each other for efforts. We've had a couple fights during this postpartum period, but I think that's pretty good when you consider the level of sleep deprivation/stress/amount of change/demands on both of us. And both fights were short-lived and worked out immediately after.

So I think what's working for us is acknowledging that this is a very stressful time and being real with each other about what we need and also playing up each other's strengths and accepting the other's weaknesses.

Mama Tully asked..."When is your next "Day in the Life" planned for?

I was just thinking about this! I think I'm going to shoot for early October. Even though it will be a challenge for me, I would still like to have this time in our lives documented. Look for a post announcing this in the next couple weeks!