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

Everyone needs to go and wish Howard a happy birthday today! 

 

We're going to the Yankee game tonight, weather permitting.  Go sun!!  Is anyone else sick of all this rain?  The Yankees are playing the Mets so I'm going to have to cheer extra loud.  The tickets are a birthday gift from my boss, who is so cool.

 

The other night I went out with the girls and we ended up in the bar playing the "I Love the 80's" board game.  Did anyone actually love the 80's?  I think not.  Although, these days there's certainly something to be said for wearing a T-shirt so big it would hang down to my knees.  But the hair?  Goodness, no thanks. I'd have to get a second job in order to pay for all the hair spray that would require.

 

Anyway, the game is SO fun.  You have teams of two people, and there are categories like "Sing It", "Draw It", "Act It", or "Quote It".  So for example, in "Act It", you'll get "Flashdance" and you'll have to dance around like a "Maniac" until your partner guesses what the heck you're doing, or thirty seconds, whichever comes first.  And if you're anything like us, your partner will enjoy seeing you dance around the bar SO much, that 30 seconds always comes first, whether they know the answer or not.  It's definitely more fun in a public setting, because there's nothing more fun than making someone belt out "Mr. Roboto" at the top of her lungs for everyone's entertainment.  Oh, and when you sing, you're not allowed to sing the title of the song, so you have to remember other lyrics, or it would be too easy.  Good times.

 

I had to decline the invitation to the marathon, since I'll be very pregnant in November.  But yesterday I ran/walked 3 miles on the treadmill and everything is so much rosier when I exercise.  Endorphins, right?  The last thing a depressed person wants to do is exercise, but honestly, I recommend it to anyone who's feeling blue.  Just put on your sneakers and move for 30 minutes, and you'll be amazed.

 

There, free advice.

 

Four day weekend - Yahooooooooooooo!!!!  We started off inviting a couple of people over for dinner on the 4th and it kind of ballooned into an all out party.  We haven't had a 4th of July party since 2001, but it's time.  It'll be good, I think.  I'm going to shop for decorations and everything.  I even learned this fun trick for the kids - you get those foam sponges on a stick for washing your glasses - you know the ones that look all spikey?  You dip them in paint and smack 'em on paper and they look just like fireworks.  How cool is that?  Very.  We're going to have steak and chicken and red white and blue trifle and fruit salad in a hollowed out watermelon and lots and lots of fun.  Wanna come?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 11:34 | link | comments (5) |

I've been on a quest for THE perfect strawberry pie since my pregnancy test came up positive.  I tried a bunch of recipes, but there was something wrong with all of them - too gel-like, too watery, too much sugar (even for me).  But lo and behold, the search is over:

It's a thing of beauty, isn't it?  Top it with Cool Whip and it's Heaven on Earth.  Mmmmm, strawberry pie.  Pie for breakfast, pie with toast, pie is the thing that I love most.  And after all that searching, THE perfect recipe was right here all along, in my Better Homes and Gardens cookbook which is supposed to teach me how to cook.  Yay!

 

Tonight is Girl's Night Out.  Watch for us in a jail cell near you.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 10:13 | link | comments (9) |

On Friday Hope crawled four steps, or creeps, or whatever you call units of movement in crawling, and then her head got ahead of her...self, and she fell on her nose.  But she recovered and now she's crawling and scooting all over the place.  This makes changing diapers and clothing difficult, but other than that it's all very exciting.

 

Except that it made me realize that I've been slacking.  I used to get down on my hands and knees pretty regularly and scrub my baseboards.  Especially in the kitchen and the family room where the floors are wood and every morsel of dust shows up.  By my own standards, I've let myself go.  So I armed myself with a soapy bucket and my Mr. Clean Magic Eraser and scrubbed everything that's on Hope's level.  At one point, I was on my way to rinse my Eraser, I think, and I saw something, some patch, that was so dirty and fingerprint laden that I told myself that I must have never scrubbed it in all the years I've lived here, and I would come right back and take care of it.  Somehow I got distracted, and then I couldn't remember where or what it was.  It's driving me a little bit crazy, knowing this grime is somewhere in my house.  When Ryan asked why I was looking around the room with a disturbed expression on my face I told him, and he came over and patted my arm and said "Good for you.  The first step is admitting that you have a problem."  He's no help.

 

It's all so very glamorous, isn't it?

 

I think I want to say, without making it sound like I'm unhappy or lacking something, because I'm not either of those things, that I miss dating.  Not other men, just Ryan.  Maybe this is a normal marriage/pregnant thing, and maybe it's not, but I miss that getting-to-know-you-full-of-surprises time, when you talked about fun things all the time, and not retirement and bank fees and what needs to be gotten at the grocery store and what Hope likes better, carrots or peas.  I miss thinking about what I should wear before he comes over.  I miss the time when he used to plead with his friends to not be obnoxious when I was around.  I do very much enjoy our quiet nights at home, but at the same time I miss always thinking up new and interesting things to do, and then doing them.  I'm nostalgic for the time when sex was a delicious sweet goal, and not a given. 

 

We haven't completely stopped trying to impress eachother, it's just different.  In a settled and nice kind of way, but still.  I wonder if it's normal to feel this way.  Or if maybe I can write it off as yet another pregnancy mood thing.  I wonder if it ever comes back.  Like, what if I said that I'm going out with the girls, and when I get home, I might not have sex with you, so there?  Does that work?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 12:10 | link | comments (6) |

I am going to die.

 

Seriously.

 

Can you die from sheer panic?  Yes.  You can.  Of course you can.

 

I just got home from the pool with my sister in law and her kids for various swimming lessons.  There were absolutely no cute boy lifeguard teachers.  What's up with that?  Last summer they were all adorable!

 

No, of COURSE that's not why I'm going to die.

 

So there was this woman there with a huge pregnant belly, and a big chubby baby girl.  They were taking mommy and me lessons (which I would be taking too, if I had my life together enough to sign poor Hope up before the spots were all filled, but that's beside the point.)  (Or maybe it IS the point.)  (I can't be sure.)  So this woman sat on the steps with her baby and her huge round belly, and I made an assumption that it was physically impossible for this baby to be her baby, and therefore she must be the baby's aunt.  Or something. 

 

Then something strange happened.  The baby, this infant, got out of the pool and started walking.  My eyes went huge, not because she was escaping, but because my mind said {Baby + Walking = Not a baby, but a toddler > 1 year old}  Then I did a quick calculation for how old Hope is going to be when I'm that pregnant, and holy crap!  I was looking at myself!

 

What's almost comical is in between those two thoughts, for about .0000856 seconds, my mind said "What the heck was she thinking!?"

 

So I turned to my sister in law and asked "What the heck was I thinking?", and she looked and shrugged with the confidence of a woman who gave birth to many children in a very short amount of time.  She said look at her, she's fine!  She's up, she's out of the house, her hair is brushed, and she's wearing a bikini!  Her baby is clean and dressed and well fed, and fine.  They're fine.

 

I wasn't convinced. 

 

As she spoke these words, her youngest son tugged on her sleeve and the two oldest argued over who was going to get to use the swim giggles with the Hologram of a shark.  With one hand waved in the general direction of those two she sang "Work it out!" and then a miracle occured, and they did.  Then she asked the little one what was so important and he pointed and asked, loud enough for the whole pool to hear, "Why is that girl brown?"  Hoo boy.  So she said, loud enough for the girl and her mom to hear, that God made us all in different colors and shapes and sizes and isn't that great?  And she smiled a perfectly apologetic smile at the mom and that mom smiled a perfectly understanding "high-5, good answer!" kind of smile back, and it was good.

 

When I grow up, I want to be a mom like her.  But I fall short in soooooo many ways.  I mean, yesterday was her little boy's last day of pre-school, and she made these cupcakes with rainbows made out of Skittles, like it was nothing, but each one was a work of art.  And this was all before 7:00 AM while getting all of her kids ready for school which, believe me, is no small task all on it's own.  She gets up an hour earlier than any of them would potentially stir so she can shower and take care of herself, when she COULD be sleeping.  (And believe me, that's what I'd be doing!  Dirt and grime be darned!)  She makes sandwiches in the shape of little faces because that way she knows they'll be eaten.  She's been known to make an entire skeleton of raw vegetables for the same reason.  Her house is clean, her kids are perfect, she always, without fail looks perfectly put together, and she's never, ever frazzled.  Well ok, once in a while we'll play a game of "Pick a kid, any kid" and I'll take one or two or three off her hands for a while, but the key is that she knows her limitations and picks up the phone to ask for help before she loses her mind, and that is to be commended.

 

So I asked her how she does it, and she said "You just do."  When there's no other option, you do it.  What a novel concept!  Then she looked at my belly, and laughed and reminded me that I was already committed, and I would do it too.

 

Damn right I should be committed.  I can't even commit to a shade of lipstick.  I can't even commit to finishing this post, as I need to go sit in the corner and hyperventilate for a while.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 15:53 | link | comments (7) |

Hope has been getting more and more interested in food lately.  Now, you may or may not have heard a nasty rumor about my less than stellar table manners.  Naturally, I've shed those bad habits as I've matured.  (Shut. UP!)  But Hope?  Well, there's no hope for Hope.

The girl is a messy eater, for sure.  (Check out those new chompers!)

 

Recently we tried these things called Wagon Wheels.  They're finger food for babies.  Kind of like puffed rice, with some vegetable flavor stuff on them.  The idea is that they dissolve very quickly, so they're good for those who are learning to chew and bite and swallow.  Great, right?  The problem is, we can't do anything to keep her from shoving the whole entire thing in her mouth at once. 

For a mom who's so paranoid about choking that she cut Cheerios into quarters before allowing her baby to try them, this is very disconcerting.  The wagon wheels are shaped like, guess what, a wagon wheel, and they're about the size of a half inch thick silver dollar.  (You can see one right there on her tray, and another shoved into her mouth)  I could cut them into pieces, but she won't touch them that way.  She's an animal, I tell you!  Where on earth does she get it from?

Yeah, I'm going to blame her father.  To expand on my claim, here's an example of why you shouldn't leave your precious little girl alone with dad for too long:

Can you see her itty bitty baby mohawk?  Can you believe her took her to my mom's house like that?  MEN!

posted by: AmericanGirl at 13:45 | link | comments (7) |

For DJGroovySlug, and Leigh

 

Kind of blurry, but it's harder than you might think to take a picture of one's ear!

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:21 | link | comments (5) |

Let's see...just how boring can a post about how tired I am be?

 

I'm so tired that the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is a promise to myself that I'll take a nap when Hope naps.

 

I'm so tired that I stopped at a red light, looked for traffic, and kept going, because I thought it was a stop sign.  Unfortunately, I think I've done this often.

 

The thought of catching up on my emails just wipes me out.  As do thoughts of spreadsheets, phone calls, making dinner, and putting on my shoes.

 

I cried when Hope woke up and I didn't take a nap when she napped.  Really.  And I was on the phone with a client at the time.

 

That's pretty tired, huh?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 15:33 | link | comments (2) |

I don't want to brag or nothin', but I had the best birthday of my LIFE on Friday.  How could a day that starts off with hand-dipped chocolate covered strawberries be anything but spectacular?  It was a great day that included diamonds, hearing from friends who had disappeared briefly, ice cream cake and a deep fried sandwich, and I was more than content when we settled down on the couch after it all to watch the season finale of the Sopranos, which I've tried to watch three times already, but I keep falling asleep. 

 

Then the phone rang and it was my brother, telling me that he was at the Brick, which is the bar down the street, and he wanted me to meet this girl he'd been seeing.  What???  Of COURSE I was on my way.  Nevermind that he'd just left my pseudo birthday party at mom's house, claiming he was tired, and now he was at the bar, with a girl.  I could forgive that if I liked the girl, because one of my deepest desires is to replace the A-word that used to take up so much of his time with someone about a kabillion times more deserving.  Since Hope was already having a sleepover at my sister in law's house, we acted like the fun and spontaneous couple we used to be and walked down the street to the bar.  Only there was no girl, because it just a plan to get me there, because it was a surprise party.  For me!  And I had absolutely NO idea it was coming.  How cool is that?

 

I could go on and on about the details, but gravity seems to be pulling on my extra hard today, and I'm tired.  I will say that I'd forgotten about how great my friends are, and that it's been entirely too long since I've been social, not counting the super fun girl's night out, which we're planning another one for next week, because all those girls were there.  And my coworkers can be really fun when the stress of deadlines and other such nonsense is removed, and my family is so cool, and I've somehow managed to marry the greatest guy on the planet and I was happier than I've been in a really, really long time, and it was fun.  Oh, and the last song to play that night went "Closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end..." and how true is that?

 

Then I was going to post some really weird pictures that I took when we were catching fireflies, because they have these weird lights (which I don't think are fireflies) and some weird mist looking stuff that's kind of cool, but as I was uploading them my computer screen was blackish, since they were obviously taken at night, and I caught my reflection and noticed how tired and not like myself I look, and it zapped me of what remained of my energy, so I guess you'll have to wait for those. 

 

Yesterday was sad, sad, sad and maybe I can blame that for my yucky reflection, or pregnancy, or any other excuse I might come up with on the fly, but I just sat here pondering why life can be so great and so bad at the very same time and my radio, I swear, just said "Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life." 

 

And that's also very true, isn't it?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 15:41 | link | comments (3) |

Happy Birthday American Girl!

posted by: rustymadgal at 07:24 | link | comments (15) |

I want to split myself into quarters, so that 1/4 of me can spend Father's Day in the city at the new firefighter memorial at 10 house with the kids, 1/4 of me can go to the ceremony Ryan's family has planned for his dad on their first Father's Day without him, 1/4 of me can go to the cemetery to visit my dad,  and 1/4 of me can stay in bed the entire day and hide from it all.

 

Oh wait, one more piece to celebrate Ryan and the wonderful father that he is.

 

Too much to ask?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 12:08 | link | comments |

And another thing.  A thing that I should just shut my trap about for so many reasons, but I won't.

 

I spent a week in Hell last week.  I know it was Hell because all the bad people were there, and it was about a billion degrees.  No one told me it was going to be a free-for-all orgy type manager's meeting.  Since I'm not quite a manager, I guess I didn't get the memo.  I've never attended a so-called "Manager's Meeting" before, thus my ignorance on the subject of Management 101:  How, when, and where to cheat on your spouse.

 

Here's the paragraph in which I offend half the population.  (But not really, because most of them don't read my little blog.)  It seems to me that a person gets to a certain level of, shall we say, success, and it becomes impossible for him or her to keep his or her thing in his or her pants.  A certain higher up in my company is having a full blown affair with a certain less higher up who manages an office in another state, and they didn't even try AT ALL to hide it.  Even though he is married and has young children.  Why aren't they embarrassed?  Why aren't they worried that someone might be disgusted by such a thing?  Disgusted enough to mention it to certain higher ups wife, who calls his office regularly?  Why does everyone think that this is ok?  And then, and THEN, one night we were all gathered, socializing, when two different people slipped away.  The one with female parts returned a short time later with that mellow glassy eyed look that says that she could only have being doing one of two things.  I don't know her extremely well, but I know her pretty well, and since she is not quite a manager either, I thought we could bond in our shared "I got stuck coming here too" situation.  She sat down next to me in a giggley sort of way and she didn't smell like suspicious smoke, so that only left one thing.  I'm a little blunt, and some might see this as a flaw, but they would be wrong.  So in the bluntest way possible, I asked her if she just f-worded so-and-so, and she smiled and sighed and told me that she could neither confirm or deny.  Well, that's a big fat hairy "yes" in my book.  Yours too, right?

 

Damn.  Her I could do without.  As I mentioned before, I don't deal with her too much.  But him, him I liked.  Past tense, because I can't get over the fact that he got married a year ago and his wife is newly pregnant.  And he just f-worded this girl, from an office across the country from him, who he probably won't actually see again, just because he could.  Not because he fell in love with someone other than his wife by accident, but just because.  And it really bothers me, for reasons I can't quite explain.  So today I talked to him on the phone about work and he made small talk, like we usually do, and I don't even want to be friendly with him because I can't even imagine that someone who would walk away from a company function for a half hour to cheat on his pregnant wife is not anyone that I could possibly have anything in common with.  I don't know why I care.  I don't know why I'm downright hostile about it, but I am.

 

I guess it's because by not saying anything, I am silently supporting this type of behavior.  I guess I just don't get how a person could love another person enough to marry them, which is no small thing, and then just go and stick your stuff where it doesn't belong.  By all means, stay single and stick your stuff wherever you want forever, but don't bring kids into the world who will look up to you and depend on you and think that you are commited to the family.

 

By all means, let's keep banning same sex marriage.  We wouldn't want those types ruining the sacredness of it all, right?

 

That last part was sarcasm, for you slower types.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:59 | link | comments (8) |

I had a quick doctor appointment this morning, just to check and make sure there's still two babies.  (I guess my doctor can't believe it either!)  Yep, still two.  Two teeny tiny adorable baby blobs and two teenier tinier flickers of two teeny tiny baby hearts beating.  Hearts beating is huge for me.  Much less shock and denial, much more "Holy Crap, TWINS!".

 

When I was pregnant with Hope, being pregnant was the first thing I thought about when I woke up each morning, and the last thing I thought of before I fell asleep at night.  This pregnancy is the same, except in between those two thoughts are a dozen or so realizations of what is to come.  Things like "Ack!  We're going to need a bigger car.  Like....a minivan!"  How else can we accomodate three carseats?  I'll stay home for six years rather than purchase an SUV.  Ok, so we add "Minivan" to our to-do list.  About an hour later, there's panic over needing a bigger house.  Two more cribs.  Three high chairs.  More time.  More room.  More hands.  More money.  More babies, love, siblings, family - just MORE!  An hour after that, I'll worry that they'll be identical, and I won't be able to tell them apart.  I know everyone says that a mother always knows, but what if that's just BS?  You know, like that story about pregnancy being so blissful and how life is never more wonderful than when you bring a newborn home from the hospital.  I picture myself writing their names on their foreheads with Sharpies, just to be sure.  Or leaving their hospital bracelets on for life.  I picture strangers asking me their names and me, not knowing which one is which, just waving in their general direction and stating "Oh, that's Baby A and Baby B" and holding out hope that they don't inquire further.  It's not panic in the sense of fear, but more of a giddy anticipation of the crazy twisty turny path we're about to travel down, all confirmed by two little flickers on a small square black and white screen.  Our baby twins have hearts already!

 

And then sometimes when it's quiet and I'm actually believing it, I think of Hope and I just want to scoop her up and give her a hug.  I'm thrilled for her because she's going to have two siblings.  I'm sad for her because they're going to be twins.  They'll have a bond that she won't be a part of.  So I think, maybe there's time to have just one more.  One more singleton after this.  The thought of Hope feeling one iota less special than she already is just breaks my heart.  And when we go to Disneyland, the twins will ride the rides together and poor Hope will be stuck with mom or dad.  I know it all sounds ridiculous, but these are the things you think about when you're practically doubling your family all at once.  That, and how completely blown away with glee that you've suddenly become.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 10:38 | link | comments (5) |

Remember last week when I was all annoyed because my blood test came back weird and I had to re-do it?  Well it came back weird again, but it turns out that it's nothing to be alarmed about. 

 

Ok, that's not exactly true, as I'm quite alarmed.  But it's nothing bad.  My beta numbers are just right for a person carrrying twins.

 

Aren't they the cutest?  Now pardon me while I go pass out.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 09:37 | link | comments (20) |

Statistically, the probability of any of us being here is so small that you'd think the mere fact of existing would keep us all in contented dazzlement of surprise. ~ Lewis Thomas

 

I've been in denial.  Till just now, when I printed out my itinerary I've been busy avoiding the fact that I'm leaving for a whole week.  Leaving my poor baby.  When you're a half year old, a week probably feels like about twenty years.  While I'm gone she's going to grow and change and have her six month check up, with shots and tears and no mommy to comfort her.  She'll probably start crawling and sitting up by herself.  She'll probably wonder why her daddy isn't bringing her into our bed first thing on the morning for early morning cuddle time.  The thought of him bringing her in there and her turning her little eyes to my side of the bed, only to find it empty, just squeezes my mommy heart and leaves it all dried up and sad and dusty.  I've told her a million times that I'll be back, Mommy always comes back, but she just smiles and I'm pretty sure she doesn't get it.  I'm afraid that this is going to be the event that pushes her over the edge of loving my sister in law, with her relaxed, soothing, perfect mommy skills, more than me.  Like I'll come back and she'll say "Hey look, Mommy #2, there's that other chick who lives in my house and feeds me.  I wonder where she's been?  Eh, whatever."

posted by: AmericanGirl at 11:45 | link | comments (4) |

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