American Girl

She waits another week to fall apart...

If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace. ~ Thomas Paine

Today is Hope's half birthday.  Wohooo! 

 

Damn, where did that six months go?  Can you believe it?  We shall have cake, yes we shall.

 

After my rather rather negative Friday, I went out with a group of girls who are the wives of the guys that Ryan works with.  There HAS to be a shorter explaination for them.  Let's call them "The Girls".  Holy crap did we have fun!  We went to the most horrible, fun, expensive place in the world called Duvet.  It looks like a rainbow iceberg, with jellyfish.  Really, it's beautiful.  But the food was horrid.  SO bad.  And SO expensive.  You wouldn't believe what our bill was when we finally got out of there.  Anyway, it's a place where you sit in a giant bed for dinner.  I think I dropped two weeks salary on alcohol which I couldn't even drink!  (It was required) We decided that they provide beds so you can nap in between courses, because the service is painfully slow and so rude that it just makes you giggle or cry, depending on your mood.  One unfortunate girl asked a question about the tuna and the waitress just rolled her eyes so bad that the rest of us cracked up.  It was like going to a Broadway show, because they couldn't have been serious, could they?  If you must go, and I really don't recommend it, bring your sense of humor.  And some rich person's American Express card.

 

When we finally got out of there we walked around a while looking for, um...something, and then ended up in a sex shop where we - you know, this story doesn't go over very well when everyone knows you're the one who consumed no alcohol, so I'll just stop.

 

While all that was going on, Ryan found my diamond!  He's my hero.   It actually turned up in our bed.  I guess it fell out when I was making it.  (The Bed)

 

Ahem.  Here's a collection of things that were overheard at our Memorial Day party:

 

Ryan:  Come on, you can DO this.  Work with me!  Push.  PUSH!  Come on Baby, this isn't going to work if you don't do your part.

(Spoken while trying to put socks and shoes on Hope)

*    *    *

J - My mom never had the sex talk with me.  She just told me that I had to start shaving my legs and my underarms.

Her fiance' - Uh, do you think we could maybe get her to go over that lesson again? 

 

*     *     *

Mom - You should hem your dungarees.  They're so long they're fraying on the bottom.

Me - Mom, Dungarees?

Ryan - Is that what the kids are calling them these days?

*     *     *

I hope you all had a nice weekend.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 11:59 | link | comments (6) |

My last post of the week, I swear.

 

I'm having a BAD day because:

 

Hope is teething and cranky

My doctor called to say that the lab messed up my blood work somehow so I have to go give them more.  Like I have all this extra blood to be giving out?

Morning sickness is kicking in

One of my favorite sandals broke

AND

I just realized that the diamond fell out of my engagement ring

 

Woe is me.

 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 14:30 | link | comments (7) |

I'm extra posty this week.  Work is pretty quiet, I even got my filing done.  In other words, you're stuck with me!

 

This is what I got for Mother's Day:

Isn't he the cutest?  Ryan and Hope built him at Build a Bear.  Those are pink Skechers, just like mine!  And the best part?  When you squeeze his paw it plays a recording of Hope laughing.  I'm going to love it forever and ever and ever.  And ever.  His name, on his birth certificate, is D.J. Bear.

 

And just for fun, here's evidence of child abuse, in the form of an evening stroll to the local duck pond:

Do you get the sense that she was less than thrilled?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 20:23 | link | comments (7) |

It's time I resigned to the fact that everyone I know likes Ryan better than me.  Oh, that sounds rather dramatic and crybabyish, doesn't it?  It's not as bad as all that, I suppose.  It's just an interesting trend that I've noticed.   My brothers used to come by to visit me in the morning, but now they linger, shooting the &%# with Ryan way past the normal "grab a bagel and some coffee and browse the headlines and then get on with your day" visit that used to happen.  This is a good thing, I say with a sigh, because God knows they hated every other guy that I ever expressed any interest in at all. 

 

But then there's more.  My sister in law calls to ask what Ryan is bringing to the pot luck  type BBQ she throws every year.  You know, she used to ask what I was bringing, and even make requests.  Ok, I'll give him the fact that he's an excellent cook and I...well, I am not.  But still, I'm not completely lacking skills.  I tell her that I don't know, but I'll come up with something to bring and let her know, and she says with almost annoying sympathy "Oh, Ryan's working?"  No!  No, he's NOT, but what am I, chopped liver?  Keep it up, and chopped liver is just what they'll be eating on Sunday.

 

Then later, my mom calls and says don't worry about it.  If Ryan's working they'll be plenty of food.  I don't have to bring anything.  Siiiiigh.

 

Petty, I know.  There's more.  Last night my best friend in the world called.  We've been friends for years and years.  She lives in California now but we still talk often and see each other when we can.  So when she called I prepared to catch up, and she says "Um, is Ryan there?"  Now granted, it turns out there was a brush fire burning in her neighborhood and she was asking fire-related advice, so I hand him the phone and go back to my MUCH more interesting conversation with Rustymadgal.  I figured that when she got the advice she needed he would hand the phone back to me and we would catch up.  Only they just kept talking and talking and talking and she never did ask for me to get back on the phone.

 

There's more.  There's so much more.  But the point of this emotional dumping is not to list all the times I've been snubbed in favor of Ryan.  It's not that I'm bitter, exactly, but I'm really not amused either.  Somewhere between those two lies...what?  Left out?  Hormonal? (Ding! Ding! Ding!)  Just trust that it's been building for some time.

 

Tomorrow night I'm going out with a bunch of women, for a girl's night out.  No boys allowed.  They are the wives of the guys that Ryan works with, and so there is an instant comradery.  A bunch of women who are not enamored or even all that interested in firefighting or the fire department or any of it.  I think I'm going to really like them. 

 

And that's something, you know, because we women are way too hard on ourselves.  And each other.  We make it too difficult to form friendships, and when we DO manage to tear down the walls and form friendships, we somehow manage to make to too difficult to mantain them.  Which is unfortunate, for the rest of the world, because I happen to be an excellent friend who happens to be married to an exceptional man that everyone adores.  No complaints here.  If you don't think I'm a good friend, it's 100%, absolutely, completely your loss.  How could someone any less than exceptional sink her hooks into such a man anyway, right? 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 14:05 | link | comments (9) |

What do you do when you get a...thing in the mail from your boss' daughter (whom you have met twice) that says "The Senior Class of XYZ High school announces the Commencement Exercises on so and so day at so and so time at so and so place" and then in tiny little letters says "Admission by ticket only".

 

Forgive my silly little ignorant mind, but this is just an announcement that you're supposed to send a gift, right?  They don't actually expect me to buy a ticket and sit through her high school graduation ceremony, do they?

 

Is this what people do?  I didn't do that when I graduated high school, but it's quite possible that I'm out of the loop.  (We DID go out to dinner, I think)  I could see if it was college, but it's high school!  Is high school graduation all that special?  Did I mention that the envelope is foil lined, as is the envelope inside of the envelope?  And that is was sealed with wax and an initial?  And it's embossed and has a foil emblem?

 

Shall I send back an equally beautiful announcement regarding Hope's upcoming half birthday?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:13 | link | comments (3) |

There's much debate going on around here regarding pregnant people and exercise.  My research reveals that early pregnancy is not the time to begin a new workout routine, but if you already have a routine, it's fine to continue it.  Trouble is, I'm surrounded by men who feel that I should be treating my body more gently.  This is something that will certainly come in handy later on, so I walk a fine line here. 

 

Technically, I was training for a marathon.  Since that marathon is in early November and I'll be just over six months pregnant, it's obviously not going to happen.  I've been loving the early morning jogs though, so stopping would be sad.  And I am determined to not feel any sadness during this pregnancy.  It's hard to be sad when you're deliriously happy anyway.  I'm so excited for Hope to have a sibling!  I wish she could be aware so she could be excited too.  Back to the point, I think it's actually healthy to exercise while pregnant, assuming one isn't working out to the point of exhaustion, or trying to lose weight or anything like that, right?  Right.

 

Last night I was craving a calzone, which has nothing to do with being pregnant, because they're just yummy melty cheesy goodness and anyone could need one at any time.  But it was just me and Hope, and she doesn't like calzones. (Yet!)  So I fed her carrots and rice cereal and Cheerios and I had some soup, because I could eat it with one hand while I fed her, but the craving didn't go away.  Then later, when Hope was asleep for the night, the craving was so great that I picked up the menu from the pizza delivery place, but there was a $10 minimum for delivery which meant I would have had to order more than just one little calzone, which means I would have eaten more than a calzone, which probably has an entire day's worth of fat and calories by itself anyway.  I could have just ordered a pizza and put it in the fridge for Ryan because he'll eat anything, but I personally find cold and/or reheated pizza to be the single most offensive thing on this earth, so that would have compromised my morals too much.

 

So (Insert sad music here) I didn't get my calzone.  And I dreamed about it all night and woke up NEEDING the cheesy goodness.  And now, here it is, an hour before lunch, and I'm almost giddy with the thought of finally getting my wish.

 

And so ends the most boring blog entry ever!  I hope YOU have a nice lunch too!

posted by: AmericanGirl at 11:15 | link | comments (7) |

I can't help but wonder if he's single?

 

Is it wrong to have a crush on him?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 20:08 | link | comments (2) |

This was in yesterday's NY Post:

 

The hits will never ever stop coming.  I wish I could explain all the things that I know went on down there.  There wasn't any kind of control at all, even though the city would have you believe that everyone was handed safety equipment before the towers even fell.  This is just a slap in the face, and no one should be surprised when another attack comes and the response is a fraction of what it was on 9/11 because people will decide to stay home with their families rather than risk their lives knowing that the city will abandon them in the end. 

 

Remember when  Christie Whitman, the head of the EPA, told everyone that the air in lower Manhattan was safe to breathe, right after 9/11?  I do!  So why would they even need a mask?  Oh that's right, because three years later they came back and said "Oh wait, no, it wasn't safe after all."  They just said that.  You know, so we could feel comfortable to "Get about the business of America!".

 

If you're going to work for the city, make sure you work for the mayor. Then you'll be ok.

 

AmericanGirl has seven words for the city of New York:

 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 10:57 | link | comments (3) |

The rumors are true - Hope is a big sister.  I'm pregnant!   We're completely thrilled and excited... here we go again!

 

I wish I had more time to write, this has become the most boring and non-updated blog ever.  The spirit is willing but the time contraints are far too great.  It should settle down next week though.  I'll be back!

posted by: AmericanGirl at 10:07 | link | comments (18) |

Strange things are happening around here.  It was all quiet here this morning; Ryan went to work, Hope was snoozing her morning nap away, and there was coughing at my front door.  Loud yucky coughing.  So I thought, huh, my brother's here for something.  He coughs a lot.  I didn't bother looking up and just shouted out a greeting because I was in the middle of something, and it was Ryan!  Poor, poor Ryan is sick for what really could be the first time in his entire life.  (I know, he's a weirdo freak of nature)  Odder still, he was fine all day yesterday, totally fine this morning when he left for work, where absolutely nothing happened before he dragged himself home and upstairs to where death's door is apparently residing at the end of the hallway.

 

This is very disconcerting.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 14:07 | link | comments (14) |

Yesterday I remembered that I like to listen to music while I work.  I always used to, but when Hope came along I stopped, because it seemed like she was always sleeping and it would be rude.  Now that she's down to two solid naps a day, and sleeping in her crib, and not adverse to listening to music when she's awake, it certainly is doable, but I just didn't remember until yesterday.  I think this is the answer to why I've been feeling crappy for months.  No music!  Hope especially likes The Killers and Green Day, but it seems she's not really my daughter because she doesn't like U2.  What's up with that?

 

There should be some way to indicate that the next paragraph is not just a new thought, but a completely different subject 100% unrelated to what you were just talking about.

 

Ryan and I drank no less than five bottles of wine last night, and stayed up till 3:30.  It was so much fun that my raging headache and extreme dehydration are both so worth it.

 

And yet another completely random and unrelated thought/paragraph follows.

 

Last week I was talking to a coworker when he suddenly stopped and I said "What?" and he said that I had just called him Brian.  I swear I didn't, but I must have, because why would he lie?  This is very odd because I had no idea why I did it, and I'm left wondering if I do that sort of thing all the time?  So yesterday my brother called me, because I had left him a message, and yep, my message went "Hey Brian blah blah blah..." and I had no idea.  WTF is wrong with me?  Is it a motherhood thing?  My mother has never gotten any of our names right.  We all grew up thinking our names were some variation of Kejabritri.  Can I blame this on Hope?  I add this to the growing list of strange things that the large unused section of my brain controls.  Isn't it 80% or something?

 

And again...

 

I grew sunflowers, from seeds, in my kitchen window, and planted them outside when they got big enough.  Looks like four out of six are going to make it.  (I broke one, and the other appears to be a runt)  How cool is Hope going to be, wandering through the sunflower garden?  This is only exciting because I don't have a green thumb but I want one.  Badly.  I figure being a mother has made me more nurturing.  Or something.  If I can take care of a baby, I can certainly water a plant, right?  Have I mentioned that I have managed to keep my shamrocks alive, since St. Patrick's Day?  !!!  They're even growing flowers.  Motherhood agrees with me, yes?

 

And to tie it all together, here is Hope rocking out to The Killers.   She's growing hair!

 

 

I know it's Ryan's job to post the pictures, but he'll forgive me.

 

Irish Wisdom:  Sometimes you're the bartender, and sometimes you're just the straw that stirs the drink.  Today I'm the bartender.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 11:35 | link | comments (18) |

This is a lion:

that my nephew made in pre-school.

 

Discuss.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 19:10 | link | comments (11) |

This is a new post.

 

Ryan just called - Yay!

 

 

 

 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 17:35 | link | comments (11) |

Do you ever just get a really bad feeling, turn on the news, and find out your husband is here?:

I do.

 

This sucks.  Everyone told me it gets easier.  Guess what?  I doesn't.

SOB!  I need a hug or some Valium.

Got any?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 11:11 | link | comments (6) |

I see all you people on your cell phones, and I just don't get it.  I have one too, but everyone who knows me understands that they shouldn't dial my cell phone number if they're just looking to chat.  If you need me to do something for you, and you can't reach me at either my home or work number, then sure, call my cell.  I'll probably answer and do whatever you need.  If you want to talk, you're welcome to come over for dinner or call me at home during non-business hours.  I'm not unfriendly.

 

Then there's everyone else.  Those people in the grocery store who block the whole aisle with their cart to stand there and call someone and ask questions like "Do you like the Ragu with meat, or without?"  and "What flavor ice cream do you want me to get?"  In my book, if they didn't come along with you to the store, they lose the right to chose such things.  Make an executive decision already!  Seriously, if you're buying Ragu, you're no gourmet cook anyway, and the people eating your food can't be all that picky.

 

I know that I'm the total minority here for not worshiping the mighty cell phone, so I just wish someone could explain it to me.  Are we coming to the point where people can't have a thought without immediately sharing it?  You really can't take a chance and go somewhere without calling your friends first and seeing who's there and what they're wearing and whether or not there's a long line to get in?  Because I'm looking at all of you people with eyes that look inward instead of outward, chattering into that little talking contraption as you meander through the empty facade that was your life as an independent person and I have to say, you just don't look that interesting.  Not so interesting that I feel the need to check in with you before making a decision on a jar a spaghetti sauce.  No offense, you're great!  I just don't need you that badly.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 13:01 | link | comments (13) |

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