HEELS

Here I am, in the last week here at my job, with nothing to do. It's funny, I still have these feelings of wanting to do my job really well and show up on time and not leave early and such even though what's the worst they could do if I fucked up? Fire me?!

Today is not the best. We have so much to do and, though we did get a lot done over the weekend, catching up on sleep did not get checked off the list. I think extreme fatigue is on the schedule for every day for the rest of my life which means that I will continue to abuse caffeine.

Decisions were made yesterday about how we will actually move. We were going to rent a trailer but my Father and Aunt both say that a trailer would blow up my engine and I like my little car, so that plan is trash-canned. Instead, my parents are sacrificing their own personal time and flying out here to drive a rented truck back for us so that John, Cole, Yokie and I can all ride together in our car. My parents were great before, but it's amazing how giving them a grandson has really increased their willingness to help us out.

Except now? They want to try to do the trip in three days. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to California in THREE DAYS. With a BABY.

Someone needs to be checked into the loony bin- either them for thinking it can be done or me for going along with it.

I don't even know if it's possible to do it in three days. Especially because of the following: I was talking to Mom and said that I could be awake from 6:30 to about 10:00 and be clear enough to drive. She said "oh, I don't think we should go that late". Uh, Mom? I love ya, but how else do you think we can do a, roughly, 40 hour drive in three days? We need to be DRIVING for at least 13 hours a day! Are we never allowed to stop? 'Cause, if so, you need to find super-mega-plus diapers for all of us. And I think we'll end up with some nasty cases of diaper rash.

But it's amazing to have their support. Cole is a very lucky little guy to have grandparents like them. Even if they are nutters.

Maybe if I laugh about it I won't cry about it.

We have big news! Drumroll, please.... We're moving back to California!

In fact, we're moving back to our home town. I have a job as a Technical Editor waiting for me and there's a good chance that John has a job in IT. We are very excited. The chance to be back in California where my son can grow up knowing his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins was too much to pass up. Plus, many of our good friends are still back there and we look forward to being able to see them more often.

What it boils down to is that life is too short to spend it in a place that you hate or doing something that you hate.

We always feel so much happier and healthier in California. We go outside more often- hiking, gardening, swimming, farmer's market- things that are good for us and we don't really do here. We eat better. We lost so much weight the last time we lived in Sonora that we nearly looked like different people. I could use all the help I can get right now with this damn baby weight.

There are some things we're not looking forward to and some things we'll miss. Sonora is pretty conservative and there are a lot of old people, not as many cool young families. There is ONE sushi restaurant, but I don't think you'll catch me going there. Some of our favorite restaurants have closed or changed ownership, and there weren't many good ones to begin with. There are no museums within miles worth going to. There is very limited shopping and no cute kid's clothing stores. There are NO GOOD SHOE STORES (Waaahhhh!).

But the good outweighs the bad. And, anyway, San Francisco is not that far away and we have a reason to visit with my sister being there. And we have reasons to visit Sacramento and there must be something there (right?).

The thing I'm looking forward to the least is the drive back- a week in the car with one man who won't drive, one 3 month old baby and one nutty dog. Sounds like the makings of a bad movie. Or lots of posts.

Oh, and we only have 19 more days to get rid of all of our furniture and pack.

Sanity is overrated anyway.

Sorry for the whole not posting thing. Things are going a little crazy here and it was just kinda low on my list of priorities. I also haven't been getting a whole lot of sleep- it doesn't help my attempts to be clever.

Speaking of no sleep, I was trying to catch up a bit on Sunday morning (John got Saturday) so I asked John to take Cole. I was just getting back to sleep about 15 minutes later when I heard John start down the stairs followed by a loud crashing/thumping noise and Cole screaming. I leapt out of bed like it was on fire yelling "What happened?! What Happened?!". I saw John and Cole on the stairs, John on his ass. I don't think I touched a single stair on my flight down. Naked, might I add.

John said that he had been going down the stairs when he slipped on part of the carpet that is coming up (was never tacked down properly) and started to fall forward. Seeing that Cole was going to fall out of his arms, he grabbed him and squeezed him close and leaned back, ending up sliding down instead. Cole never fell, never touched the ground.

I grabbed Cole from him and sat on the steps crying and shaking as if it had happened to me. When I felt safe to walk again, I took him upstairs and undressed him to check on everything.

Everybody is JUST FINE. No lasting harm done, except to my heart. I don't think Cole will even have the tiniest of bruises anywhere. John hurt his arm a little, but he's really fine too.

But what a way to start the morning!

If I had had any question about how much I love my son, I no longer would. I was willing to give my life for his if he was even hurt. He is more precious to me than anything. Like I have heard other people say, he really is my heart living outside my body.

And I've only known him 3 months.

I've decided to keep a journal/notebook about Cole- the making of, birth, development, etc.- for him to have when he's much older. I have a lot so far, but I want to give him as complete a picure as possible.

What would you all love to be able to know about your childhood?

A dear friend gave me an Amazon gift certificate for christmas. I got him...nothing. I haven't even written a card of thanks. Or an email. Or called. He had to call and ask if I'd gotten it. Omigawd, do I suck.

And it's a nice gift. For normal people it would be a perfect gift- Amazon has just about everything. For me? It's overwhelming. I will admit it here first: I am internet-shopping challenged (in non-PC terms: major web 'tard).

There are too many choices. Do I get a book? A DVD? Shoes? Camera? Okay, let's narrow it down to the things he suggested: a book or a movie.

I never know what books to get. I have to wander in bookstores until I see a cover that appeals to me and then I take a chance. That's why I like a good series- I don't have to wonder what I should read next. I can't buy books online because I wouldn't even know where to start.

So, a DVD. When I'm not looking for movies, I can always think of ones I'd like to see. As soon as I start looking for one, either to buy or to rent, my mind goes completely blank. I mean total wipe out.

It's a serious disability, I know. (Do you think it's bad enough to get me a handicapped parking permit?)

So I'm utterly stuck. I don't even want to look anymore because I'm too frustrated. I want to get something and tell him how much I'm enjoying it, but I honestly don't know what to get. My husband thinks I'm crazy, but then his Amazon wish list is, like, a billion pages long.

What should I get? This is a problem right up there with solving world hunger and how to get out of Iraq, so please give it your serious consideration.

(And what should I get for him? I wanted to get something all along, but for me baby=no time for anything else.)

If only Amazon sold massages...

(And to the dear, gift-giving friend: Thanks, Darlin'. I don't deserve it.)

We just got a new sign here at work- you know, the kind that is a black background with red lights spelling stuff out. I've sorta been put in charge of inputting the messages.

I was just in back figuring out how to add an american flag animation when a co-worker came up and suggested I add "pray for our troops" to it. I said that we might want to get permission from the president of our company to use a religious reference and that perhaps we could safely say "support our troops". She said "yeah, I guess you're right. I mean, we don't want to insult all of those people who are going to die horribly and go to hell. Hahahahahaha".

I was so close to saying "oh, you mean like me?". That woulda shut her up. But then it probably would have gotten even more uncomfortable around here. There was already that moment of silence when I was asked when I was going to baptize my son...

Taiwan breeds fluorescent green pig

As I was driving home for lunch, I looked over at the car next to me and saw an old woman in the driver's seat who was bobbing her head with some sort of palsy. Instead of thinking "oh, poor dear" I thought "Oh look- she's her own bobblehead doll."

I'm going to my own special hell, aren't I?

Frank admission time: Before, during and after my pregnancy I was very judgmental about women who gave birth any way but completely naturally. Yeah, I would say oh it's no big deal that you had a c-section or an epidural, but inside I was saying "wimp!". I was very smug and superior in my plans to give birth naturally, and being able to do so only strengthened my belief that women who didn't were just lazy, scared, ignorant fools who gave away their power...or something like that.

What a bitch, right?

I don't know where it came from- honestly! It was like I was born with those ideas already burned into my brain. I don't remember learning those prejudices and I don't know from whom I would have learned them.

But since having all of this trouble with breastfeeding, I've found myself really softening. It's like having to feed Cole formula has forced me to learn that there is no one Right Way to do this whole parenting thing, or this whole Life thing in general. Formula is not at ALL the way I wanted to go for him, but it's what we have to do. I don't get a choice this time if I want my son to be healthy.

The thing is, it so doesn't matter that he's on formula. We still love him and cuddle him and nurture him the same as if he were solely breastfed. And he'll still be perfectly healthy as he gets older. I mean, my father had to have whole cow's milk when my grandmother had low supply because formula hadn't been invented yet and he's one of the greatest men I know.

Giving birth naturally was what I wanted and it worked for me, but the most important thing is that Cole is here. It doesn't matter how babies arrive as long as they are loved and cared for when they get here. I wouldn't change a thing about what I did, but it's not for everyone. We all have to make our own way and do what works best for us.

If such a thing is possible, I apologize for my judgmental thoughts and my scorn.

This is the kind of experience that turns women into middle-aged hippies, isn't it? Shit.

As you no doubt have realized, I have returned to work. I had a temp while on pregnancy leave (can't call it maternity leave or they'd have to offer it to the men, too) and I had gotten to know her while training her before I left. We got along fine, though she's a major catholic and I'm an...well, y'know. (See? Our differences aren't that great. We both still love our kids, eat, poop (though I don't admit it), drive, laugh, cry, etc...) I left feeling good about the stability of my position when I returned.

Since I've been back, however, I'm not so confident. See, they kept her on. In a different capacity, but there all the same. Which means that there is someone else there who knows how to do everything I do. Plus, she took some of my responsibilities with her. I grant you, they were some of the most hated responsibilities and I'm normally grateful for things that allow me to be more lazy, but now I fear for my job. I have about two hours worth of work to do each day. How long will it take for them to realize and cut back on my hours, or worse, cut me out entirely? And I don't think my boss is too pleased with me at the moment (he asked me to buy football tickets on ebay for him, but after looking for an hour I realized I know NOTHING about football and I was afraid I would spend $1500 on seats out in the parking lot or something and so asked him to choose.)

Yes, I know I would love to be at home with my son, but seeing as how I'm the ONLY bread-winner in the family right now, it's not an option. I can't lose this job! I really want more work to do. My day goes by faster and I feel better about myself and being there when I have work to do. I'm begging you: GIVE ME SOMETHING!

AND they gave her an office with a door (I'm in the middle of a busy room). AND they bought her a new computer, after I had been asking for one since I got there a year ago. AND she gets to go out to lunch with my friend (actually, I love going home to see my boys).

Uh oh. Here comes that jealousy monster again...

To those of you questioning my sanity at saying that donuts are evil: You are obviously not new mommies trying to lose pregnancy weight and having to shield yourselves from the seductive come-hither looks of the free donuts in the coffee room that nobody would even notice if you took several of and scarfed them down in a minute flat. So there.

Damn slutty donuts.

Mostly, though, I was testing out the title option and couldn't quite get it to work at first.

So nobody really commented on my post about the secret. I totally wanted to spill but couldn't because it would have ruined a surprise. Now I can because it happened this past weekend.

I flew to Phoenix, AZ with Cole and surprised my Grandmother (who hadn't seen him before) and my Sister and Nephew. I left on Friday and got back last night. John stayed home and got some work done. It was a wonderful weekend, but I have come to realize something about myself: I am insane and a glutton for punishment. I must be for trying to travel by myself with an infant. You should have seen me jogging through the airport: hiking backpack and huge carseat strapped on top of a suitcase with wheels, just so that I could have the wheel portion, dragging behind me; one over-stuffed diaper bag; one over-stuffed mommy bag; one winter coat; one sweater; one baby in a sling; one panicked grimace for being late. Perhaps I burned off some of those donuts.

Everyone was completely surprised and excited. I was so happy to be able to have my Grandmother hold my son beofre he gets too old. The next possible chance to see her would have been this spring and he will be so different by then. She was really needing a tiny baby fix.

Cole was, yet again, the best baby a mommy could hope for. For such a tiny guy he sure has enough stuff. Half the suitcase was for him and we used it all. He did pee on me on the plane ride there- I was changing him and he decided to play fountain- but I won't hold it against him. Though it was difficult traveling, it was wonderful to have four days with him. He's more fun everyday. He grew and changed just in those four days- even John said so. And it was a thrill to discover that he now recognizes me. Even if to no one else, I am special to him, and that'll get me through all the hard days.

It was hard coming back to Pittsburgh. Leaving 70 degree weather for 30 degree weather? I'm not that much of a glutton for punishment.

I'm late to the game, as always, but it's de-lurking week in the blogosphere. I'd love to hear from you if you visit but rarely say hi. I'd love to hear from you even if you comment often. Just comment! Of course, I'll reciprocate.

Yea!! I'm no longer buried in the bowels of my husband's site. Thanks to Elex and my husband for setting it up for me.

Test

How do y'all feel about the general look of the site? It's been, more or less, the same for quite a few years now. Time for a change?

While my New Year's eve was spent in the relative quiet of a house with a newborn, my New Year's day was much more exciting.

John, Cole and I were invited to a dinner at the house of one of John's former office mates from school. She and her husband are both Grad students at CMU and both originally from China. Of course, having not had a chance recently to be with other adults, we accepted.

When we got there we found out that another couple originally from China would be joining us. Both couples are expecting babies this year (6 months and 7 months along, respectively) so thay wanted to check out our spawn and ask questions. I was happy to be a know it all after getting it from others my whole friggin pregnancy. They asked for it, though.

We had a lovely evening discussing the Taiwan prob...ahem...situation, religion (they are all christian), Chinese history, food, cultural practices and, of course, babies. Cole was perfectly charming and smiled and cooed to his new friends all night. They cuddled and oohed and awwed at him and were totally smitten.

I was looking forward to dinner in hopes that I might get to experience some REAL chinese cooking, and I wasn't disappointed. A quick overview based on main ingredients: pork ribs with potatoes and eggs (spicy); seaweed and sprout salad with black sesame seeds; mushrooms and baby bok choy (OH YUM!); pork, sweet potato and rice slow cooked in a lotus leaf; fermented rice and "sticky rice ball" soup; pig's ears.

Yeah, that's right. Pig's ears.

I ate three strips.

The flavor was good, but I couldn't handle the texture. The thought of eating pig's ears was a bit disturbing, too (though I'm willing to eat the rest- why not the ears?). I ate enough to decide that I don't really care for pig's ears.

The rest of the food was beyond reproach. I could handle visiting China if the food was going to be as good as that. The flavors were so wonderful and so different even though most of the ingredients are ones I've used plenty of times. I want to learn!

Except, now how am I supposed to go back to crappy american "chinese" food? It's just not even close.