Call Me A Homicidal Maniac Crazy

Yes, my baby is only three months old.

No, he does not sleep through the night (on a bad night, he wakes up every hour past his initial four hour sleep stretch).

I'm quite aware that the horrors of potty training, teething, and terrible twos are in my not-so-distant future.

There are days where I want to take my frustration and sleep deprivation out on the world via a massive wrecking ball.

I vaguely remember that the day after my c-section, I wimpered that I was NEVER DOING THAT (pregnancy/labor/being cut in half) AGAIN.

But I keep thinking that it wouldn't be such a bad thing if I got pregnant again- now. I even kind of WANT to. I know it sounds crazy, but a part of me is already yearning for baby #2. No matter how much work, blood, sweat and tears it requires, I love this baby stuff. I love babies. I especially love MY babies. I think I want ten.

Can't you see why?

Rocket Man

Wasn't someone going to create "The Most Ridiculous Looking Baby" contest?

Rolling

Jacob rolled over yesterday! I put him on the floor for some quality tummy time yesterday- he's been holding his head up 90 degrees for two weeks now. The second I put him down he started tipping to one side. Then he brought his left foot up and under himself. One kick and BOOM! Jacob was on his back staring at the ceiling in shock.

I put him back on his tummy and he rolled over twice more- one time for our video camera!

Bi-Polar Holiday

I spent Thanksgiving feeling a mix between thankful and disappointed.

Lately, I've been spending a lot of time realizing how lucky I am. I have a little family that brings me so much happiness and love. While we certainly do not have much money right now, we have enough to pay the mortgage on a nice and (mostly) warm home. We have enough to eat well, to pay our bills and buy the things need. Lately, I have been carrying around this gut sickness over how materialistic I can be and how much we live in a country of consumers. I keep feeling haunted by guilt over the fact that we can purchase so much unecessary stuff when other people are trying hard to feed their families and provide a christmas gift or warm jacket for their chidren.

I'm so blessed with love AND material needs. I definately need to look into ways I can help others this holiday season.

While I was thankful for food, family and friends, my Thanksgiving this year did not live up to Thanksgivings of the past. I built it up so much in my mind the past week and I wanted our first Thanksgiving with Jacob to me AMAZING. I always get holiday let down, even on the best holidays.

We divided our Thanksgiving Day between my family and my husband's family. I don't think I recommend that, nor will we be doing that again in the future. Dinner with my family was an hour late so we had to leave before we could gather around the table with everyone. When we got to husband's family, they had already eaten. So while there were plenty of leftovers for us, we didn't get to sit around the table with everyone and enjoy their company.

After dinner, Jacob was really fussy. I spend the rest of the evening walking him up and down the hallway trying to get him to settle down or take a nap. It's frustrating right now that I'm the only one who can (or is it that I'm the only one who is willing to) calm him down. when he's really fussy, he will cry in my arms forever fighting off sleep. Husband will make an attempt but hands Jacob over to me after 5 or 10 minutes of his crying.

I came home feeling a little gloomy. Then my husband got crabby at me. Sometimes if I make a mess or leave a sock in the bathroom, he freaks out and I feel like he's treating me like a child. Because, you know, when you have a fussy baby in one hand and you are trying to cook, do household chores, or do simple "me" things like put PJs on or brush teeth, it should be impossible to leave a trail of messes behind you. Next time he complains, I'm handing the baby over to him for the rest of the evening.

(note: This post is mostly me letting off steam. USUALLY husband is pretty good about taking the baby and playing with him for a while so I can get stuff done. But, you know, everyone has their bad days)

Oh They Places You'll Go...To Have Green Beans

This is my Thanksgiving Green Beans post. If you don't understand the powerful second meaning behind Green Beans (trust me you want to know), then you have not been reading Tranny Head's amazing (read: hawt) blog. To learn more about Green Beans click here and here.

So here goes nothing.

When I met the man who is now my husband, I had just graduated from college and moved back home with my parents for a year of work before starting law school. I met future husband at my work. It turns out, he was also a twenty something graduate living at home. So when he finally collected the courage to ask me out to lunch (a full two months after the moment he decided he liked me) and after we started dating, we had to get creative when it came to finding places to um, display our affection and consume our green beans.

I really liked this guy but I had just ended two relationships in a row that seemed to go sour because of green beans. Our green beans weren't sour or anything- they just got in the way of maintaining a healthy, balanced diet (if you know what I mean- wink). So I had made up my mind that I wouldn't have green beans with future husband for as long as I could stand it. All in all, I made him wait it out a month. I know. I'm a horrible person. I wanted to wait longer but the temptation for green beans was just TOO GREAT.

So where did we consume green beans for the first time? Somewhere romantic? No. On the nasty bachelor-pad couch of future husband's best friend. Did the green beans taste good despite the nasty serving dish? Not exactly. I was scared and nervous so, um, I kinda just laid there. Hot right? Future husband thought it was like sharing green beans with a parapalegic.

After that the green beans were MUCH MUCH better. For both of us.

Because of our dire living situations, we ended up being very creative (read: desperate). We consumed green beans in the following places those first two years of dating:

-My Ford Aerostar Van, named the "Jesus Mobile" because of its numerous interior and exterior Jesus paraphrenalia left over from the previous owner- my mom.
-Work parking lot (in the Jesus Mobile) (x4)
-Red Apple Parking lot (Jesus Mobile)
-Neighbor's wooded driveway (Jesus Mobile)
-A dive bar's Women's Bathroom
-Home that I've house sat (3 different homes)
-In a hotel room next to our boss's hotel room
-At an undeveloped property owned by work (Jesus Mobile)
-Parent's Basement
-Double-wide trailer on the beach
-Future Husband's best friend's couch (x3)

That's what I can recall off the top of my head.

We also almost shared green beans on our Congressman's desk (he has multiple local offices and is rarely in his office that shares the same suite as ours). We walked in his office outside of office hours. I gave husband the *frisky look*. The thought crossed both of our minds. But we thought twice after worrying that the office might be under surveillance- makes sense right?

Speaking of elected officials and green beans, I once went on a date with one (a local elected official- not a green bean) before his term started. I was so excited to be out to dinner with Someone Important, that I didn't fully realize how creepy he was until too late.

He dropped me off at my place after dinner. When I didn't invite him in, he begged if he could stay the night since he lived so far away. This is when the mental alarms SHOULD have gone off (crazy first date "get into your green beans" stunt). I was reluctant but finally agreed. We talked for a bit. Then kissed. Before you know it he was trying to slobber all over my body. I told him rather forcefully that I wasn't going to have green beans that night. Do you know what he said?

"How about oral green beans?"

Ew. No. And NOT just because you're desperate (desperation ina guy can be such a turn off).

I should have asked if his green beans history was as public as his voting record.

Why I Keep Old Magazines

I knew there was a reason to save all the magazines that ever came into my possession...

Jacob loves his new walker. He just can't touch the ground- even when it's on the lowest setting.

Any Airborne Pig Sightings In Your Neighborhood?

Pigs must be flying somewhere.

Husband: "Maybe we can go to bed early so we can cuddle a bit."
Me: "Really? You actually WANT to cuddle? You're not even begging for sex? That's the sweetest thing ever."
Husband (trying to regain his manhood): "I mean. I want to 'man cuddle'."

I don't care what he has to call it in order to justify it to himself. Cuddling is cuddling. And I love it.

"If I Were A Secret Shopper" And Other Sauerkraut Woes

Today I decided to whip out my crock pot. The one that has been sitting in its box in the basement corner. The same basement corner where the cats sometimes poo when their litter box is full. It's been collecting dust (and other stuff- ew) for a year. It's one of three crock pots we received for our wedding and the only reason we still have it is because it didn't come with a gift receipt (damn!).

After I unboxed it and gave it a thorough scrubbing- it was ready to be used. I found the crock pot recipe that took the least amount of time and ingredients and headed to the grocery store. I was on a mission for sauerkraut. Do I like sauerkraut? I can't remember. I guess I'll find out.

I search the condiment aisle. And search. And search. No sauerkraut. I don't see any grocery store employees wandering around so I wait in line to ask the checkout man where the sauerkraut is. Seven minutes later, he tells me it's in the produce department. Fine. I go to the produce department. I search. And search. And search (this is starting to sound like a kid's book). No sauerkraut. Suddenly a produce department clerk asks me if I need held. Where is the sauerkraut? Oh, it's in the condiment aisle. RRRG. Fine.

He takes me down the aisle and HE scours it from left to right. NO SAUERKRAUT! He goes off to ask another clerk, comes back, and tells me it is in aisle 2 on the other end of the store. I wheel my cart-pushing-ass down to aisle 2. Not in the dairy section. Not by the deli meat. Not by the eggs. WTF?! Another clerk comes over and asks me if I need help. Suddenly grocery clerks seem to be in abundance and trying to melt my face off with their failure-ness.

"I'm looking for sauerkraut?" I say tentatively, hoping I'm close this time.
"Oh," he says and I start to get the tingling sense that I'm on a hopeless treasure hunt when he furthers with, "it's in the condiment aisle." AHHHH! See, hopeless.
"No, it's not! I was just down that aisle with another employee. THERE IS NO SAUERKRAUT!!"
"Well, let me just take another look."

I want to slap him! No, wait. First I want to sneeze large balls of snot, wipe my nose with my hand and THEN slap him.

He walks me back to the other end of the store. I feel like a kid who's being reluctantly escorted to the school bus by her parents. He walks confidently down the condiment aisle. Stops halfway. Reaches his hand out and hovers it in mid-air as if he is waiting for some signal from the Condiment God. Then his hand finally lands on shiny jar. OMG. There IS sauerkraut. But it wasn't there before. I SWEAR! Hey, look everyone. This man just conjured sauerkraut from thin air!

Finally, I make it home with my jar of sauerkraut. I plop all the necessary ingredients into the crockpot and my husband and I stave off hunger for the three hours that our meal takes to cook. When the meal was ready, I laughed and told my husband the "Sauerkraut Story" as I dished us up.

I took a bite...and...Ew! OMG. It's disgusting. I HATE SAUERKRAUT. Apparently, so does my husband.

"DURRRRR"

As I was merging onto the highway, I saw flashing police lights on the side of the road behind a firetruck and an ambulance. My first thought was, "woah, the cop pulled over a firetruck AND an ambulance?!"

Then it hit me. Accident. Duh!

The Nights Are Still Hard

Last night was pretty tough. Jacob wouldn't nap during the day so you would think he'd conk out early and easily. NOPE. He usually goes to bed between 7 and 8. Last night I started his night routine at 7:30 (I've read that establishing a routine before bedtime makes it easier to put babies to bed- they get used to the routine and pick up on the cues that signal their sleep time).

Our routine goes like this: pajamas, stories, going around the room saying goodnight to everything we see, then I swaddle him and rock him to sleep. Side note: I just started reading Jacob stories- at first I thought it would be silly since he is so young, but he loves looking at pictures and listening to my voice. His legs and arms wave around happily as we turn the pages. Anyway, we started his routine at 7:30. I put him in his bassinet when he fell asleep at 7:50. The second I walked out the door and sat on the couch, I heard him start to cry. I went back in to rock him. He woke up three more times and three more times I rocked him to sleep. He finally stayed asleep at 9:10!! It took 1.5 hours! I was exhausted.

Then my husband and I do OUR normal routine. Husband puts in a DVD and he watches while I try to stay awake. I'm usually asleep 45 minutes into it, however. I know, lame. Last night he put in Tropic Thunder. I know a lot of people said it was funny, but I thought it was really, really stupid.

After my nap the movie, we joined Jacob and went to bed. I think he must be having a growth spurt or something because he slept his normal 5 hours in a row but thwn he woke up every 2 hours after that. He usually is good for three to four more hours. I remember feeding him at 1. Feeding him at 3. And feeding him at 5. Each time he woke up I tried to get him to sleep without feeding him but he wouldn't stop wailing. I hope this is just a growth spurt and not a new sleep habit.

An Actual Law School Related Post!!!!

Why do Registrar's Offices suck? At least the one at my law school sucks. In a perfect world with a perfect Registrar's Office (or at least a decent one) I would be signed up for the only two classes that actually mattered to me this upcoming semester. Instead, I'm stuck with Practice Management and Underwater Basketweaving Law (ok, not really).

I e-mailed the Dean as I was instructed to do and informed her that I was returning to the land of the living. The land where a daily routine does not involve guessing the mustard color of baby poo (grey poupon, dijon, honey or regular?) or evading air borne chunky milk spit up. Where people have actual conversations about world events and not "Oooo. Can you say 'oooooo.' How about 'gaaaaah.' Gaaaaah, ooooo, gaaaaah." Where people actually get DRESSED in REAL denim (goodbye fleece kitty pajamas- wait, do I even own jeans? I totally forgot). In other words, my leave of absence is over!

But while they assigned me a registration time and date. The geniuses at the Registrar's Office forgot to remove the block from my account. Of course the two classes I really wanted only had 3 or 4 available spots by the time it was my turn to register. So as soon as possible, I signed on, checked those classes and hit submit. It took me 10 mintues to realize my block was still on. It took another 15 to get ahold of the Registrar's Office and get them to clear my account. By the time everything was figured out- all the spots were GONE!

The worst part is that my law school nemesis got into one of those classes. And she didn't even want to take it in the first place. She only decided to take it because I told h er how much I was looking forward to it. Then she did some research and figured out the Prof is super easy. She just wants an easy "A" but I actually WANTED TO LEARN. Go figure.

Oh well, I'm just happy to be signed up for classes again. I know this sounds messed up, but I LOVE law school. Even the parts of law school that make me want to shrivel up and die (like outlines and exams and Socratic Torture), well, I LOVE to hate them. NERD ALERT: I'm so excited to be joining the ranks as a 3L! These are the classes that (in addition to Jacob) will be running my next couple months:

UCC Sales and Secured Transactions (Yum! I HEART contract law)
Payment Law (ick! otherwise known as designated web browsing time)
Constitutional Law of Terrorism (YAY- with former U.S. Attorney!)
Corporate Governance (not sure???)
Applied Law and Practice Management (might be ok???)
Administrative Law (ick)

The Best Idea Ever.

A drive in grocery store! Imagine it.

You have a little one sleeping in the backseat. You are in danger of missing the latest episode of The Office. But you have nothing to eat in your house- you desperately need groceries (and a bag of Reese's Pieces).

What do you do? Call the grocery store and place an order. By the time you get to the store, your order is waiting for you at the drive in check out window. Then two hot burly men with abs of steel load your groceries into your car. Hey, is Hot Burly Man #2 for sale as well? How about for rent? My subaru has a huge trunk/hatchback...

Anyway, problem solved! I didn't have to get out my car, wake up my baby, or miss The Office.

Why am I the first person to think of this? Nowadays, stores will deliver for an extra $10. But if I'm already running errands, why not bypass that fee?

Sometimes I wonder how so much genious could exist in one person.

A Positive Outlook And My Son The Pig

A quick, positive Mom update: she's staying at a specialized hospital for the entire week so that doctors can keep on eye on her and diagnose her properly. They are all confident that her condition is fixable. She continues to act a little loopy but for the first time I feel good. I feel like there is hope and an end in sight. The hardest part now is just leaving her alone in her small room an entire city away.

Now for the Jacob news. I've been keeping a bottle and formula in my diaper bag for emergency situations (in case other people watch him and they run out of frozen breast milk). Today at the hospital I decided to give it a try. I have been really nervous lately about him not taking to formula. Next semester I go back to school and I think it would be A LOT easier if I didn't have to pump and store/carry milk around with me at school (although I originally thought I would do this). And I hate to say this but I'm getting a little tired of being Jacob's only source of food (unless I actually think ahead and store some milk in the freezer). It can be a lot of stress and worry being the only one who can feed him as I have to plan my day around his feedings. Basically, I'm on demand every three hours. While there are some parts of nursing I enjoy, I'm looking forward to putting it behind me as a blissful memory.

Today I offered Jacob 4 oz of just formua and he GULPED it down! Phew, looks like I have nothing to worry about next semester. He is seriously one indiscriminate kid about what goes in his mouth. In fact, don't get too close or you will find two vacuum-like baby lips wrapped around your hair, finger, shirt, or even your neck. I even catch him sucking on his own shirt when it gets bunched up in front of his face. He is a man with a plan. And that plan is to gorge himself on anything within chubby baby arm's reach.

When All You Can Do Is Cry

I've been doing a lot of that lately. In the past two weeks, my Mom has made 5-6 trips to the ER. It's hard to keep track anymore.

Everyday it seems like there is something new and different going on with her. Her doctors cannot figure out what is it. She was initially diagnosed with depression, anxiety and disassociation. But she has not been responding to any medication. And her behavior keeps changing. The doctors are now afraid she might hurt herself.

Last week she went for a walk and then laid down on the side of the road. She said she was just tired but the people who found her said she was not very conscious/not responding. This week she froze up and it looked like she stopped breathing. My dad had to perform CPR on her via instructions from a 911 respondant over the phone. My ten year old brother (yes, we are 14 years apart) stood outside her bedroom traumatized.

Today she was in the ER again pacing her small room and repeating the words "no, no, no. yes, yes, yes. no, yes, no." She kept trying to leave her room (every 30 seconds she would get out of bed and try to walk out the door) and asking for her keys. She was talking nonsense about "infinity." She was troubled that something important was happening at 3 or 4 o'clock but she couldn't remember what it was. She kept saying, "What's that word? I forgot that word. Something to do with infinity. I need to remember. I have to remember or else I will go to hell."

In order to keep her mind occupied and to get her to stop trying to leave the room I convinced her to sing some songs with me. She continued long after I had stopped. The sight of her made me tear up. She was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, swinging her legs back and forth like a child repeating the song over and over with intense concentration as if she were trying to shut out the thought or sound of something terrifying.

I tried to control my tears as I witnessed my mother, who was once the most cheerful, strongest and religiously faithful woman I knew sit there like a child. She seemed far away, lost, and tormented. But everytime I had my silent crying under control, I would remember how she used to read books to me as a kid before bedtime. Or how she would help us make gingerbread houses at Christmas time. How she devoted an entire year to homeschool me when I refused to attend the local middleschool. How happy she was on the day of our wedding. How her eyes lit up when I told her she would be a grandma.

And now, I don't even recognize her. All I can do is sit by her side, wrap my arms around her, and tell her it will be ok when, deep down, I don't even know as much.

Hello Remember Me? I Used To Be The Quiet Whale Sitting In The Corner Office

Jacob and I went on an outing to downtown Seattle. While we were there we stopped by the firm I interned for this summer. I felt weird going there at first. I had only worked there for three months. Was it too presumptious to assume that they would WANT me to stop by?

But the second I walked in I felt at ease. The receptionist stopped us at the door (with my big honking jogging stroller blocking all front entrances- it's like the huge, lifted, pick up truck of strollers). Before I knew it, a crowd of old co-workers had huddled around us. I tried to make my rounds down the hallway but in thirty whole minutes I probably travelled a total of five feet.

Walking into the building, getting on the elevator and stepping into the office was a major deja-vu. I almost felt like I had arrived for another day of work. Walking down the hallway with Jacob, I had to stop myself from automatically waltzing into my old office- it was occupied with someone else's suff.

I loved being back! I talked with the associates and caught myself up on all the cases I had worked on. I even got a copy of the 36 page motion to dismiss (about 20 pages of which I had written) for one of the big cases. The associate had actually used a majority of my work word for word!

The only two partners in the office that day were people I had barely taked to. Since I left one of them had a baby of him own. This time we chatted away about all things baby. Look at me, a partner is asking me baby advice!

It was so much fun seeing all their friendly and familiar faces again. I have always been a shy person and when I worked at the office this sumer I was no different. For some reason, I have always had a hard time treating "real adults" as my peers. I always feel like the teenager in a room full of a grown ups and that makes me more reserved and respectful (as opposed to chatty and easily befriending). But for some reason, since having Jacob, I feel like I have been initiated into the "real adult" world. I feel that I have more clout and that I am "one of them" now. I felt more comfortable chatting with the associates as if I was almost a peer rather than an underling (although I still have one more year of school before I'm a lawyer).

Oh and Jacob charmed the pants off everyone, of course!

Revisiting Body Image

The last five pounds still won't go away. I'm starting to think they are my five permanent new friends. I run (sometimes). I eat less (less broccoli anyway). I carry around a 13 pound baby for hours at a time. These five pounds are chronic! (I understand that some people never lose the last few pounds until they stop nursing...so I guess I may have to wait it out a couple more months).

I can't decide if I don't mind the change in my body shape- to hell with it, right?- or if I want to strive to regain my old body.

I go through high points and low points regarding my body image. For the last couple months of summer I was huge. I had forgotten what a waistline was. Then I dropped 30 pounds in 30 weeks. After that, it was hard to be judgmental about a lousy five pounds. Even though I was above my pre-pregnancy weight and way above my "ideal" weight- I thought I looked great! Amazing even. Now, sometimes I just get ecstatic to see a waistline. But the other times I look in the mirror and feel so disgusted. My feelings regarding my body image are constantling yo-yoing between ultra high pre-pregnancy and very relaxed pregnancy standards.

In other news, Jacob and I have settled into a familiar daily routine. He usually goes to bed around 8 oclock- give or take half an hour and he'll sleep for about six hours in his bassinet straight before waking up to eat. When he wakes up I bring him into bed with me, feed him and let him fall asleep in my arms. He usually wakes up twice more before being ready to face the world- between 6:30 and 7:30 am.

During the day Jacob will usually only nap twice- each time usually not longer than 45 minutes. Oh and he will ONLY sleep in your arms. The second you put him down, you're lucky if he stays asleep for five more minutes. It's like he has magic sleeping sensors or something. Believe me, I've tried EVERYTHING!! It baffles me that this is only the case during the day.

Japanese Rash Peanut Butter

You can seriously find ANYTHING on google. Or you can at least try. Sometimes you get exactly what you are searching for. Other times, you get my blog.

Here is what some of my readers WANTED TO FIND:

"Melted Barbie head" - (reminds me of what I used to do to Barbies)
"Japanese rash peanut butter" - (I don't want to know)
"Baby with two bodies" - (can you simple change his body when your baby gets poopy?)
"Hummingbird sex" - (how DO they have sex when they fly around so fast!)
"Obama is a hottie" - (Yes, he is!)
"Guys smell like shit" - (Unless you are my husband, then you smell like half a bottle of cologne that resembles floor cleaner...wait...IS IT floor cleaner?)
"Eggbeater sex toy" - (why hadn't I thought of that?)
"Driving naked sucks" - (if you get pulled over it does- TRUST ME)
"Law school eats your brains" - (and your wallet)

These search terms are so exciting, I feel bad that all they got was me. I should make t-shirts that say, "I googled 'Eggbeater sex toy' and all I got was Cee's blog."

The Demons Of Her Mind

I feel like I have lost my mom.

Recently (after many trips to the hospital where we were left with more questions than answers) my mom has been diagnosed with depression and disassociation disorder. Physically, she's still here. But mentally and emotionally, she is a stranger.

It started out as occassional episodes where she would just stare and smile and be otherwise completely unresponsive. You could talk to her and ask her questions but you would get the same blank smile for 30-90 minutes. Then she would suddenly snap out of it and be her old self again.

As the summer went on these episodes came with greater frequency. Then she would repeat herself during conversations. Finally two weeks ago, she went for a walk in her bathrobe and slippers. The next morning she went for a walk, got tired halfway through it and just laid down on the side of the road. She stopped being her chatty, smiley self. She stopped sleeping at night. She kept forgetting to make my little brother's lunches. She kept forgetting to eat. Then, she started having panic attacks, telling me she was living a torture and acting like she was about to die. Once she even told me to take care of my dad and my siblings as if she were on her death bed.

Last week my dad got her to see a psychiatrist and now she takes a handful of pills a day. But she still isn't my mom. She acts like a three year old. Or a really slow adult. When she came over to visit the other day, she put on a bunch of my clothes (they don't even fit her). When I asked why she did that she simply replied, "they were on the floor."

She is living in a daze. She is unconnected from us and from the world around her. The doctor said this was likely brought on by stress and depression that has gone untreated for too long. But will she ever come back to us? And how can a couple of pills really drive out the demons eating away at her mind?

She used to be so affectionate and motherly- almost to the point of suffocation. Now, I have to make sure she eats, sleeps, comes home from walks. When we talk, she looks off into the distance and answers with just a word or two. When will I laugh with my mom again? When will I see her eyes light up with joy when she holds the grandson that she has waited so long for? When will she come back to us? It hurts so much to see her like this. But it also hurts in a selfish way. I've lost someone that is irreplaceable in my life. I feel abandoned.

What Happens When You Give Two Overworked People A Night Off

Back in May we celebrated our Elopmentversary. And last night we celebrated our Wedding Anniversary (the Catholic Version of our vow recital). I dropped Jacob off at my parent's house, our first night apart, so we could enjoy a dinner out on the town and a night at a nearby hotel.

So it was a two star hotel, but HELLO, any hotel room without a baby means one full night of pure uninterrupted sleeping BLISS!! By the way this was the same two star hotel that my dad booked us for the night of our wedding (yeah, he's a REAL splurger that one). But I have to admit this year we CHOSE to return to this particular hotel, not for the romanticism of reliving our first night, but solely for the make-your-own waffle breakfast bar. This could become our own little white trash tradition.

We ate out at this place that had great atmosphere- there is library room with a fireplace and you can eat on COUCHES! My husband never lets me eat on the couch at home!- but the food was not so great. My burger was burnt on the outside and raw on the inside. Plus the lemon drop, which I only ordered for the sugar rimmed glass and did not COME with a sugar rimmed glass, tasted the way rubbing alcohol smells.

Then we went to a bar near our hotel so we could stumble back by foot. I recognized our bartender right away- she was someone I went to middle school with. I was too embarassed to say anything because I was a major nerd in middle school and I didn't want her to remember me. Then my lovely husband yelled from across the room, "Hey, she went to middle school with you!"

When the bartender looked at us like we were crazy, I asked, "Is your name Ashley?"
"Yes!"
I responded with, "Do you remember Cee" as if the past me were another person. As she was thinking, I almost qualified my question with "you know, the girl with the short hair who read star wars books in the hallway walking to class, who always sat in the very front and volunteered to answer grammar questions? yah, her. well, she's me." Turns out she did remember me and was nice enough to forgo any comments about my past nerdiness.

After a couple rounds of drinks my drunk self asked for a Mongolian Margarita which it turns out is actually called a Moonglow Margarita. Later in a mment of brilliance, my husband and I decided that Taco Bell's next competitor should be called Taco Chime.

We returned to the two-star hotel for the Grand Finale of drinks, a bottle of oregon raspberry wine we'd been saving for a year, only to realize that we didn't bring a corkscrew. Yeah, I'm not a details person. Then (forgive the forwardness) we enjoyed fifteen minutes of amazing, long overdue drunken sex (the best kind). Somehow, during our little session, the headboard came off the wall (don't look at ME!).

The best part of the night (after the drunken sex) was that the next morning, my husband forgot I had taken a picture of him drinking a cosmo in the nude while lounging on the bed. So it is now uploaded to my computer. SCORE!

Oh and I only cheked my phone for messages like five times (an hour).

Two Months!

Jacob had his two month check up on Monday. He weighed 12 lbs 13 oz and measured 23.5 inches in length (75 percentile in both categories) and his head measured 42 cm (90th percentile!!). I think his arms and legs are unusually long for a baby his age. His size 3 month outfits fit him perfectly in the tum tum but both his arms and legs stick out! I have to put long socks on his fit to keep his legs warm.

Jacob also got three shots in his legs- which was definately NO FUN. The nurse asked me to hold his arms while the nurse thrusted (it seemed like a thrust at the time) the needle into his chubby soft legs. I saw his eyes grow wide then disappear into little slits, his face turned bright read and then he emitted a long, earpiercing scream. I nearly cried tears all over his sad wrinkled face.

For the rest of the day I didn't mind his fussiness and I didn't get frustrated during his crabby time. I just held him close to me to show him that I love him. And man, do I love him. It's something I could never put into words.

Look at that little chubby tummy!

Jacob has such a STRONG neck.

What Obama's Win Means to Non-Minorities

As ecstatic as I am about Obama's win, I wish I could experience it as a minority. It must be just overwhelming.

I've never known what it feels like to be marginalized. During my entire childhood, my parents repeatedly told me I could be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up (with hard work of course) and I believed them. The only barrier that ever stood in my way was myself- could I do well on my LSAT, could I get good grades, could I work hard enough for something I wanted. I never once thought that I couldn't do something just because of how I looked. Until I moved to Chicago for college, I didn't know that people of other races were still experiencing prejudice on a daily basis. I've been privileged my entire life.

My baby is a quarter Filipino but he doesn't look it. He has a boring, familiar last name. He will likely never experience marginalization either. While we are very lucky, I hope we can someday understand the experiences of others in our country who fight for equal treatment everyday.

Hearing my friends of other races talk about Obama's win. I felt a little left out at first. As if I could never fully grasp the importance of his win among minorities because I was not a minority. That I couldn't be as excited because of my white privileged background. That my excitement for Obama might appear shallow to those who have experienced prejudice. While some of this might be true, I realized that it was silly to dwell on. I realized I was drawing an "us" and "them" distinction in my mind and going against all that Obama stands for. He hated that people focused so much on his race and ethnicity.

I understand now that Obama is a win for all of us. We should be excited that another barrier has been broken. For those who never thought they could, Obama's win says "yes you can." For those who grew up experiencing no prejudicial barriers, Obama's win is a challenge to eradicate the prejudice that still remains and help us break free from what is left of the backward social thinking that causes us to fear those that are different from us. His win shows us a glimpse of what the nation could look like if we make the American dream a reality.

Love Affair With Obama

No world or national event has ever made me as happy as election night 2008!

I remember having a discussion with my old political savvy boss in late 2006. She told me she hoped her candidate of choice would make it to the November 2008 ballot. I told her that if he ran, it would be Obama for sure. She respectfully disagreed with me and went on a rant about how he didn't have enough experience and that it just wasn't his time. I would love to make her eat her words today!

I was first introduced to our new President-elect when I was a student in Chicago. I watched his Senate race on TV while huddled in a room with my two roomates. I had no idea who this man with the funny name was but I was impressed with his electricity. He had captured the attention of the democratic youth at the national convention (can you believe I turned down a chance to go watch it in order to finish a paper!). I saw signs with his name posted all over the greater Chicago area- dorms, driveways, streets, sidewalks. Not too much later, I caught Obama fever myself. And after reading his book Audacity of Hope, I became convinced that no other man or woman was so right for American Presidency in our time.

When Obama beat Clinton for the democratic seat, I was ecstatic and that is when I knew he would make it all the way to the top. I was so happy to be proven right last Tuesday. I cried listening to his acceptance speech (I also cried during McCain's speech but it was tears of pain from having to listen to another one of his repetative, stale and very lame diatribes- "this isn't your failure, it's mine" what the hell?!). I would seriously have given one of my toes to be in Grant Park that evening with my old college buddies.

Aside from being totally hot (we're talking multiple hot peppers), he is almost unbelievably charismatic, intelligent and eloquent. Although I've been trying all week, I feel like I can't say anything original about Obama's greatness. So I will just say that I think we have a real chance to fix some of America's greatest social problems.

I'm so looking forward to the next four years. I know Obama has a lot of work to do and a lot of promises to fulfill but I also know that exciting magical things are on the horizon!

Anyone know a bitter Republican with a subscription to the New York Times? I tried to find a copy of the Wednesday paper for my scrap book- every vendor sold out of copies!! Today I tried to buy a copy on the Time's website. They are charging $15!! That's robbery! So, should I just go ahead and pay it?!?! (If I had a job- I would have bought two copies already).