HEELS

I leave at 4 am tomorrow for a conference in San Diego. I will be without John and Cole until Saturday night. It makes me tired and sad to think of it. I will not likely have a computer and connection to be able to visit you all, so I'll return on Monday. Have a great week.

Cole has been utterly obsessed with the Disney movie Tarzan lately. He would watch it over and over all day if we let him (we, of course, do nothing of the sort). He walks like Tarzan, yodels like Tarzan, and now asks to listen to my heart like Tarzan does to his Gorilla mom. And it's a cute movie, and could be SO much worse. I mean, at least he no longer asks to watch Freakazoid, which has been forbidden in my house until he's much older.

But I hate it. I hate when he wants to watch it, and I frequently have to leave the room when it's on. And it's all because of one damn song.

For one so small, you seem so strong
My arms will hold you keep you safe and warm
This bond between us can't be broken
I will be here don't you cry

And you'll be in my heart
Yes, you'll be in my heart
From this day on
Now and forever more
You'll be in my heart
No matter what they say
You'll be here in my heart
Always

It gets me right from the start, and doesn't let the heart-crushing stop until long after the actual song is over. I am VERY rarely ever affected by songs or movies, but this one gets me every freaking time. And I sob- OH, do I sob. Ugly, snotty, weeping, shaking sobs. Even thinking about it makes me choke up and my eyes start to tear. I don't want to let this stupid song get to me so, but I am powerless.

I cry for the mothers I know who have lost a child. I cry for my mother, and how she must be feeling about me not being so happy with her right now. I cry for babies who have lost their mothers, and babies who have found new mothers*. And I cry for myself, because part of being a good mother, to me, is knowing when to step back, when to let go, when to not protect with everything I have, and that is so fucking hard and hurts so much EVERY DAY. Because if I thought I could, that it would make Cole's life better, I would keep him with me and protect him in every way possible until I die.

But, of course, I can't. And I won't. Because Cole is not just my baby, he's also his own person, and it is a wonderful thing, indeed.



*(That's a happy thing, but I cry all the same)

My review of Torchwood.

You will like Torchwood if you liked Dr. Who but thought "You know what this needs? No sense of humo(u)r and lots more fucking. Oh and the actors should occasionally have a nosh on the scenery when they're feeling a bit peckish."

Captain Jack Harkness

The end.

(I did ask, however, if we could possibly skip to the episode where Captain Jack and James Marsters (Spike) get it on. Because, dude... HOT.)

I know I'm not the only one who does this, but each month, right around the end of the second week, I obsess about pregnancy "symptoms." I sift through the same dumb sites over and over, each time hoping (and knowing it will never happen) to find The One SIGN that will let me know two weeks in advance that I'm pregnant. Dumb sites where the forum questions are something like "if i had sex with my boyfreind standing up culd i be pregnat?" Because of course- I WILL FIND WISDOM HERE.

*snerk*

But the symptoms are always the same: sore boobs, aching lower abdomen, fatigue, frequent urination, blahblahblah- all, quite handily, also symptoms of PMS. In other words: NOT HELPFUL.

So I try to talk myself into forgetting about it until at least a day after I should have gotten my period, a feat far easier said than done. I distract myself with work and blog reading and home life. But, in those quiet moments that always come, my boobs still hurt and I still wonder if this time they are forecasting something good.

I try not to be superstitious, but I sort of have a "thing" for patterns. So please bear with me a moment while I lay something out here. Sorry- it's a little (or maybe a lot) dumb.

Cole's due date was October 24th. That also happened to be the 10th anniversary of the first date John and I went on. He ended up being born the next day.

Now, if I get pregnant this month, the estimated due date would be in late June. Late June happens to be 1)John's (30th!) birthday and 2) Our (8th) wedding anniversary.

The first kid on our first date, the second on the day we married.

How fucking cool would that be?

I just added buttload of bellydance and yoga exercise dvds to our Netflix queue. It's not that I feel like I'm particularly fat right now (actually, I generally feel pretty good), but I feel like I need to be more active for my general health, including mental.

Ever since the bellydance classes here in town went kablooie, I haven't really found a replacement. I go home, make dinner (when I don't feel completely drained and unmotivated), and read or play quiet games with Cole until his bedtime. Then I read some more or watch a movie before bed. On weekends we get out a bit more, but it's just around the house work- nothing that gets my heart pumping significantly.

And I'm not unhappy about all of this. I'm still looking fine- I haven't been eating a lot, though still plenty enough to be healthy. I love reading, and I love playing games with Cole, but I still feel like I should be doing something more active.

Because when I'm active, I feel more motivated in all aspects of my life. I think more clearly and do better at work. It feels really good.

And I don't own a bike, don't own a kayak or live near enough to a lake/bay, and have always felt dumb driving somewhere to walk (our neighborhood is small and bordered by a road that has no sidewalk or shoulder). We don't quite have the funds to have a gym membership, and there's no gym on this side of town anyway. The yoga classes are pretty much all designed for people who don't work 8-5 every weekday.

When we got our new tv, we moved our old tv into our bedroom, which is fine because we don't get any channels and so won't be tempted to stay up late watching it or anything. We do all of our tv (movie) viewing in the living room. But I got a little $20 dvd player to hook up to it anyway, just in case.

So as soon as I have those dvds, every other night or so you'll be able to find me, locked in my room, trying to jiggle back my motivation. Wish me luck.

I made this:

moar funny pictures

I thought it was funny, even if no one else did.

I'm not an intensely political person. I vote, and I like to be educated on the issues, but I don't actively campaign for candidates or contribute financially.

Until this year.

Now, until he entered this race, and particularly up until he nominated Palin as his VP, I didn't really have a huge problem with McCain. In fact, if it were McCain of a few years ago and he were sans Palin, I wouldn't be all that upset if he won. Sure, I'd never vote for him (unless I REALLY hated the Dem nominee), but I wouldn't have cried if he won, either. But now? With the McCain of today combined with Palin? I may not just cry, I may move out of the country. I have more fear of that poisonous combination than I have ever felt in connection with a presidential election. I think that a McCain/Palin administration would be like Bush II: Electric Boogaloo- four more years of Bush bullshit with an extra special, conservative, constitution and personal freedoms-smashing twist.

At the same time, I have more hope than I've ever felt for a presidential candidate in Obama. I never expect a perfect president, but I believe that Obama may be exactly what we need right now. We don't need someone who thinks it's a positive point that he's been in war- we need someone who is a COMMUNITY leader. We need to re-establish ourselves as respectable in the global community. We also need someone who can think outside of the tactics that have been used in the last 7 years (because, really- has it been working THAT WELL? Seriously?). I believe that Obama is that person this time. So much so that I actually got off of my relatively apathetic ass and drove to the Democratic headquarters to buy an Obama/Biden bumper sticker. That's a major first for me. I'm also sporting an Obama pin and have recently been given two Obama shirts, one of which I will be cutting down to fit Cole. Because, dammit- as long as he's all young and oblivious, I'm going to dress him as my adorable billboard as much as I please. He can have his own opinions when I'm no longer wiping his ass.

Obama 08.

(And that may be the last you hear about politics here for a while.)

And now for something that makes me happy every single day. Well, someBODY, I guess- not someTHING.

Cole knows what you do and judges you harshly. I guess he gets it from me, huh?

But he's also willing to forgive you for enough ice cream.

Did I ever post this? I can't remember. This fantastic tiger hat was given to Cole by our dear friends green apron monkey and the girl. They brought it back from their trip to China. Currently, it resides on the head of Kermit the Frog, and I don't think he's ever looked more rakish and handsome.

I should have made that more clear- that letter was not about my husband. In fact, he has been wonderful and supportive. No, that letter was sent to my mother.

My mother and I have never quite seen eye-to-eye. We are, as she has always so helpfully pointed out, very different people. I still love her. I can't see not loving her. But she has done and said some things both through my life and in very recent history that have made me not really like being around her much. I don't have a lot of respect for her right now. I have finally told her a lot of the things that I have wanted to say for years, and she hasn't really liked hearing them, not that I expected her to. I didn't especially like saying them.

She calls me judgmental, and I agree. However, I have a different opinion of what that means. To me, every human that has ever lived and will ever live is judgmental. To live is to judge, to make choices, to have opinions. Yes, I have opinions. Yes, I have standards. In fact, I have standards that I am not willing to bend for anybody. Being an atheist, I have very personal morals and ethics, and reasons for having them that are very important to me. They did not get handed to me from a book or a church, they were developed by me and for me, and if you understand the depth of my willfulness, you'll get an idea of the strength of my convictions.

I'm not asking my mother to comply with my ethical guidelines in order to be around me, but neither am I going to pretend that her choices don't bother me. If she were just hurting herself, I would be upset but not so disappointed. But I see the others she is hurting, and her willingness to do so goes against what I believe is right.

My mother needs help, in my opinion. She has fallen into a pattern that, I think, is not healthy for her. And, like I said, I love her and want to see her get better. But getting "better" is up to her, and she can't and won't take steps until she realizes that there's something wrong, which may never happen. She doesn't see anything wrong with her behavior at this time.

I hope that my mom and I can continue to have a good relationship, but that's hard to predict at this time. Time heals a lot, in my experience, but may not be enough here. I am partly to blame for not speaking up sooner. These things should never be allowed to fester.

It's out in the open now, and HOO-boy does it hurt.

A glimpse at the bullshit I've been dealing with for too long. I'm so tired of this. (I wrote this letter, it was not to me.)


I have tried to be honest and answer questions you asked. Are you asking me to forget everything that you do that I disagree with every time? Part of love, to me, is knowing what is anomalous to someone's behavior and forgiving and forgetting those actions, and knowing when that behavior has taken over and being the "asshole" that points it out. I have heard what you've said, and I really thought we were moving toward understanding each other better. I will say hurtful things to you, but ONLY when I really feel they are true. I have no reason to exaggerate or lie. I'm not asking you to defend yourself- I don't need that from you. It seems like defending yourself is all you've done. Have YOU heard what I'VE said, instead of just being hurt by it? All of us being quiet and polite about our feelings is part of what led to this crap in the first place, so I won't continue it- not when I feel there are still things to be worked out.

I know that your intentions weren't bad. I know that you are human and make mistakes. I know the same about myself. I still get the feeling, though, that you aren't willing to take responsibility for the parts you've played and the decisions you've made in your life. You aren't just acted upon.

I know you love me, and I don't know why you'd indicate that you think I don't. I love you too.

Maybe I'm an asshole. Maybe I'm wrong. But this is how I feel right now. Apparently you're not ready to hear what I have to say. Maybe it hurts and maybe you don't want to respond because it's too true. I don't know.

I don't really know what to say from here.

What's a better scent combination, lavender and sage or lavender and rosemary? In case it makes a difference, the ingredients are all whole (not essential oils or anything), the lavender is very strong and "herbal" smelling, and the sage (clary) and rosemary are from my garden.

Thoughts? I need to know soon!

Cole's favorite superhero is... any of them. The one he talks about most in conjunction with his birthday is Super Why from the pbs show Super Why! (the exclamation point is theirs), but he is equally enraptured with Batman, Superman, Spiderman, Freakazoid, Super Spy Pablo (Backyardigans), and any other fast-moving, strong, monster-beating freak in a cape, mask, or spandex. He is also very intrigued by the case for the Terminator 2 DVD, though he really knows nothing about it. I think it's like my obsession with Skeletor as a young child- I fell in love with his rippling... um... skull? from a puffy sticker, never having seen the actual show.

(For the record, Cole has also never seen Batman, Spiderman, or Superman movies, but his love for them is strong nonetheless.)

(And yes, Kamice- you are welcome and encouraged to attend.)

Work is very busy, and I believe will continue to be, maybe forever. I still read some blogs each day, but, increasingly, the choice comes to whether I'd rather read or write, because I don't seem to have time for both.

We may soon have the option of having dsl at home. We haven't had internet at home since we moved back to California (about 2.5 years ago). I have some hesitation about bringing it back, but I think we'll probably get it if it's offered. We live in a remote enough location that it's never been an option before- couldn't get anything but dial-up, which we chose not to tease ourselves with. So writing from home may be possible once more, and that's probably a good thing.

I don't have much time left at all before I make my San Diego trip. I'm a little bit frightened, to tell the truth. I'll be going with two coworkers whose company I enjoy very much, so that's a good thing, but I'll also be farther away from Cole than I've ever been. If something happens, it'll be a lot more difficult to jump in the car and come home. It's also going to be a LONG-ass drive, and I'm not looking forward to that part much at all. But, if anybody is in the San Diego area and would like to get together for a drink or something (need not be alcohol-related- I've heard there are good cupcake shops...) between the 1st and the 3rd of October, you know how to contact me! (That would be by leaving a comment, by the way.)

We will also be planning Cole's birthday pretty shortly here. If you have any ideas for fun things to do for a 3 year old's superhero-themed birthday party, speak up. Or if you'd like to be on the guest list. He has, so far, specified that 1) It will have superheroes, 2) There will be superhero chocolate cupcakes (THAT'S my boy!), and 3) We will all sing him the Happy Birthday song. I enjoy these low and utterly obtainable expectations.

One last thing, which you may want to skip if "too much information" really skeeves you out: I just got my period. Why do I mention it at all? Well, because 1) It's the first time in 8 months that I've gotten it and not cried, 2) It's the first time in 8 months that I've not cratered into depression after getting it and 3) It's the second time in a row that it's been a little early. The funny thing about that last point is that, I realized last night, now my monthly "cycles" seem to line up with the lunar cycle, and there's a part of me that thinks that's really kind of cool.

I'm sick (cold), having major problems with my mother, and have to finalize the Marketing Plan for my entire company by the end of this week. Plus, yesterday I had a salad from a restaurant with blue cheese dressing, only I think it was made (the dressing, that is) from Miracle Whip and milk. No cheese. That's enough to put anyone's week off.

There are some exciting and scary things on the horizon that I want to talk about, but for now I have to work. And google "neti pot techniques." Not that I have a neti pot, but perhaps the pictures and descriptions alone will scare my sinuses straight.

Oh yes- and the day after he told me that he liked ladies? He said that he didn't like ladies OR kids; he likes men, specifically mailmen and firemen.

I'm with you on the firemen, kiddo. I just don't know about the mailmen... But it does seem that you've inherited your mother's love of a good uniform.

It's been a crazy week, both with work and home life. I busted my ass the last two days to get a proposal out on time, and I don't think it was worth a minute of it. I also just finished writing a very difficult letter to my mother, a letter that was becoming unavoidable. I am in the process of writing and "taking ownership" of the 2009 marketing plan for my entire company, something for which I do not feel fully prepared. I am feeling my avoidant behavior floating to the surface at a time when I really can't afford it.

I've found out that I will be leaving my family for almost a week two times in the next 4 months, both for conferences in Southern California. One conference I am excited to go to, though I hate the idea of leaving Cole and John behind. The other conference I would do almost anything to get out of. Free hotel rooms and being out of the office for a couple of days is the best I can say for it.

Strawberry? It was nice. It was difficult being around my mother, but it was worth it for the chance to be around my sister. I miss her so much. It has seemed that we haven't had much real time to sit and talk in the last few years, but we certainly made a good start last weekend. Sure, most of it was bitching (about others, not each other), but it felt really good. I have my sister back.

Cole was a nasty punk for the first day and a half, and then suddenly decided that maybe food was a good idea and that naps were acceptable and immediately transformed back into the child that I knew must be in there all along. He was FILTHY the entire time, which I think counts as a success for any small child. I just let him go- no sense in fighting that one. It was just dirt, and not even from the floor of the outhouse! The pool was his (along with every other kid there) bathtub. Whatever.

He did put only one bad thing in his mouth (he's not a gummy baby anymore, ticknart!). My mother had been at a camp cocktail party and received a red plastic cup full of rum over ice with a small orange slice squeezed over the top. She put it down on our camp table and forgot about it. Next thing I knew, my nephew comes screaming around the corner of the "kitchen" into our "sitting room" yelling "Cole is drinking out of the red cup!" I jumped up, pulled the cup out of Cole's hands, and said "Ewww! That's YUCKY! Don't touch it!" He looked right at me and said "No MOM. It's YUMMY!"

Wonderful. Would you like an espresso, too? Oh... you would*. Huh. Well, shit. Why don't you just round it out and start smoking while you're at it! You can be like those chimp tv stars who were alcoholic nicotene fiends. We can start selling tickets to see the littlest drunk. We'll make millions!

Ugh.

Anyway, I'm too beat to say much more. Back next week.

*The second morning of the festival, my sister broke the french press while trying to clean it out which meant that we had to buy coffee that morning and every one after. After I got my coffee that day, Cole asked me for a coffee every time we went to the food court for anything. The last night, just as a sepecial treat, I got him a steamer with a tiny bit of vanilla. He took a sip, after I told him it was too hot, let every drop come right back out onto his jacket, grimaced because of his burnt tongue, and then said "Mmmm. Yummy!" After it was cooler, he drank every bit. And you know that steamers are the gateway drink. Before we know it, he'll be saving up his pennies for shots at the local coffee house.

At the grocery store last night:

Cole (not yet 3 years old) is in the seat of the grocery cart. A young girl (younger than Cole) walks by with her father. Cole cranes his neck to watch her go, a little smile on his face.

Mommy (Me): You like kids, don't you Cole?
Cole: Yes... No. I don't like kids. I like LADIES.

End scene.