What inspires you? It's probably not some one thing. At least for me, it's quite fluid. Sometimes, I am inspired by things around me. Other times, by the need for release of emotions. And lastly, by unhappiness. I truly believe, or at least I always preach, that if you aren't happy with your life, you have to change it. But I can't help but feel, for the better part of my life, that I am my own worst enemy to happiness. I can't help but feeling, as I look around, that I am better than my life. I don't mean my relationships, or my family. I mean my personal success. I mean that I am not living upto my potential. I've wanted to write for as long as I can remember. I've always written, except in times of....we'll say recreational interferement. (i.e. my early 20s)
I think about my job, as a bartender. I love what I do; but I feel sometimes that when people are there that they definitely see just that part of me. I feel looked down upon. I have a great time at work. I make over $30 an hour to get people drunk, feed them, talk to them and generally have a good time. But, something always nags at me.
"Something is not right with me...." (Cold War Kids)
There is more underneath, and I feel like if I don't pursue what I truly feel; that I will be miserable. I will make everyone around me miserable with my own self-dissatisfaction. So what stops me?
Why don't I write? Why don't I try to be published?
I think it comes down to a very basic fear of failure and inferiority complex.
But, damnit. I'm almost thirty. Get over it already! Perhaps, if I keep telling myself that, it will sink in. I am always torn between embracing my inner and true weirdness and on the flip side worrying about what other people think. Usually, the latter wins. That, so far, has left me truly unhappy.
I don't live a bad life, in fact, there's really not much that most people would be unhappy about.
But. I. Am. Unhappy. So, that must mean that I am not most people.
And it's never too late to be me. In fact, I'd better try before I find myself counting wrinkles and pills and wondering when it became too late.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
20July2010 ~ Pt2
Feeling odd today. So this morning I was totally not looking forward to my first day back at work. When I arrived, it took me a few minutes to get my bearings. I couldn't remember what to do first. I finally got back into a rhythmn and was able to open and chat with Alicia about how the rest of her Vegas trip was while I was setting up. Before we opened, the manager asked me to ring in three to-go orders. He didn't usually do that, but I did. One was to be picked up at 1045, before we opened and before the togo person arrived. So I took care of that one. It was for a food delivery company. They just sign for it and there's never a tip. For the second order, the gentleman was early and left me a $20 tip. I was very pleasantly surprised. After that, I decided to keep the order that was arriving at 1115 instead of transfering it to the incoming togo person. That gentleman also tipped me $20. So, basically before we opened, I made $40. Then I collected my tips from my last shift that I'd left early from and it was $30. (It was super slow and I left three hours early.) So I was off to a good start on my first day back.
I kept all of this in the back of my mind as I watched the restaurant fill up, and the bar stay empty. I ran food for the other servers, sat tables for the hostesses...tried to keep busy. I hate just standing there and Caitlin had done such an awesome job prepping for me the day before, so there was very little to do. It was nearly 1pm before I got my first guest, but then I did get a pretty good round of guests at the bar.
Even when I wasn't busy, and there was no one at the bar, I felt calm. I felt like being away from work had "wussah-ed" me. My chi was in order, or whatever. My inner spirit was at peace. LOL
I usually get highly irritated when it's slow for me and I'm just standing there while everyone else is busy. I usually forget that I will eventually get guests, and that I will likely make more than the other servers who leave after being there for two hours. I always forget the big picture. I definitely need to work on my patience. But, today was different.
Today, I was the yoda of patience and calm. Today, I didn't care about the gossip. Today, I didn't care about all the nonsense that you always get swept up in at work.
And it was great. I had one of those days that reminded me why I like bartending. I had lots of separate individual guests and a few that brought companions; but it seemed as though they all came together by the end of their meals. Several of the single guests were chatting with each other, and I joined the conversation with them here and there when I could. It was generally fun, and pleasant and friendly today. Some days, it seems as though everyone is grumbly. Not today. And it was almost as though some of them, when sitting down, were actively looking for conversation. Sometimes you can almost feel them leaning towards you, beckoning with their eyes for you to converse with them and join them for lunch.
It never ceases to amaze me how people are able to send so much information out to each other without ever saying a word. From the moment someone sits at my bar, I can tell what type of experience they want. There are a few exceptions, like the person having a rotten day who is able to be disarmed and maybe even cheered up a little. Or the super-grumpy-when-hungry person who warms up considerably once they've eaten.
After work, I left and had an amazing first timer experience at Trader Joe's grocery store. Firstly, the drive there, on the back roads and not through highway traffic was gorgeous. Secondly, the store is amazing. Organic this, all natural that, fresh delicious bulk foods and produce. They were even cooking and serving pulled pork carnitas or something in the back that I sampled. The pork was delicious...though nowhere near as wonderful as the pulled pork and collard greens that I had on the 4th of July at Sabrina's neighbor's house. (they were so good that I snuck a plate for later back to the Delmos house to eat the next day).
I went to Joe's because I was looking for creme fraiche and cotija cheese for a bobby flay recipe that I wanted to try. Shockingly, (and by shockingly I mean completely not shockingly) the commissary had neither of these ingredients. Neither did Safeway. Joe's was great. They had a ton of things I'd love to try, and a meat department that would make a grill guy's wet grill dreams come true. I will definitely return, if for no other reason than to see what they are cooking in the back!
Upon returning home, my stress kicked in and I became uber bitch. I had no patience, and Adam needed to check something in the garage, I needed to make dinner (and it's always tough when you have to read the recipe as you go), Taylor was in full on crankston hughes mode, and it was a little overwhelming. Not to mention, Sabrina was coming. Oh, and the dog had been dining on her favorite delicacy, cat shit, outside the bathroom and I stepped on a forgotten morsel in bare feet.
I give it to Adam for dealing with my wrath with mostly grace, and vacuuming and mopping where the cat treat indulgence had taken place. He kept his cool, for the most part, as I lost my top. Finally, closer to dinner, I calmed a bit.
During dinner, I was trying to fill Sabrina in on our trip to Las Vegas, and Miss Punky Pants Taylor was definitely making it a challenge. Between the shrill pay-attention-to-me noise, the using of fingers to dip in ketchup and throwing of a fit because she wanted that big dirl cup, I must have repeated every sentence three times.
My patience almost non-existent, we cleaned up from dinner and Sabrina and I and the three monsters (I mean dogs) were off for our walk. Daddy braved the overtired toddler bath and bedtime chores in order to allow us to walk.
The dogs were also in rare form, pulling on the leash with no abandon or apology, crossing the leashes, tangling each other, lunging towards every bird, every dog, every person, every leaf. They were awful. And usually, by about mile two, they've calmed. Nope. Not this time. It was as though it was their first walk and they needed to see and do every single thing with urgency. They also, which was really weird, each pooped like three times. We had no bags and at one point, Sadie let loose in a very well manicured lawn. I took a sales flyer from a nearby house, and scooped it up and carried it half a mile to a trash receptacle. It was truly nauseating.
I guess today would classify as a sort of mixed bag day. I really think it's all in how you choose to feel. At work, because of the surprising great start, I felt at ease and more inclined to enjoy my day. At home, because of the unsurprising stressful dinner time hour, I felt like, well, sort of a tyrannical mess.
I'm glad that part is over, and sad that it wasn't enjoyable for Adam or Taylor. I am pretty sure that I wasn't the best company. I apologized though, and as I'd promised to do, returned home from my walk in a much better mood....to a husband sound asleep on the couch. =)
I kept all of this in the back of my mind as I watched the restaurant fill up, and the bar stay empty. I ran food for the other servers, sat tables for the hostesses...tried to keep busy. I hate just standing there and Caitlin had done such an awesome job prepping for me the day before, so there was very little to do. It was nearly 1pm before I got my first guest, but then I did get a pretty good round of guests at the bar.
Even when I wasn't busy, and there was no one at the bar, I felt calm. I felt like being away from work had "wussah-ed" me. My chi was in order, or whatever. My inner spirit was at peace. LOL
I usually get highly irritated when it's slow for me and I'm just standing there while everyone else is busy. I usually forget that I will eventually get guests, and that I will likely make more than the other servers who leave after being there for two hours. I always forget the big picture. I definitely need to work on my patience. But, today was different.
Today, I was the yoda of patience and calm. Today, I didn't care about the gossip. Today, I didn't care about all the nonsense that you always get swept up in at work.
And it was great. I had one of those days that reminded me why I like bartending. I had lots of separate individual guests and a few that brought companions; but it seemed as though they all came together by the end of their meals. Several of the single guests were chatting with each other, and I joined the conversation with them here and there when I could. It was generally fun, and pleasant and friendly today. Some days, it seems as though everyone is grumbly. Not today. And it was almost as though some of them, when sitting down, were actively looking for conversation. Sometimes you can almost feel them leaning towards you, beckoning with their eyes for you to converse with them and join them for lunch.
It never ceases to amaze me how people are able to send so much information out to each other without ever saying a word. From the moment someone sits at my bar, I can tell what type of experience they want. There are a few exceptions, like the person having a rotten day who is able to be disarmed and maybe even cheered up a little. Or the super-grumpy-when-hungry person who warms up considerably once they've eaten.
After work, I left and had an amazing first timer experience at Trader Joe's grocery store. Firstly, the drive there, on the back roads and not through highway traffic was gorgeous. Secondly, the store is amazing. Organic this, all natural that, fresh delicious bulk foods and produce. They were even cooking and serving pulled pork carnitas or something in the back that I sampled. The pork was delicious...though nowhere near as wonderful as the pulled pork and collard greens that I had on the 4th of July at Sabrina's neighbor's house. (they were so good that I snuck a plate for later back to the Delmos house to eat the next day).
I went to Joe's because I was looking for creme fraiche and cotija cheese for a bobby flay recipe that I wanted to try. Shockingly, (and by shockingly I mean completely not shockingly) the commissary had neither of these ingredients. Neither did Safeway. Joe's was great. They had a ton of things I'd love to try, and a meat department that would make a grill guy's wet grill dreams come true. I will definitely return, if for no other reason than to see what they are cooking in the back!
Upon returning home, my stress kicked in and I became uber bitch. I had no patience, and Adam needed to check something in the garage, I needed to make dinner (and it's always tough when you have to read the recipe as you go), Taylor was in full on crankston hughes mode, and it was a little overwhelming. Not to mention, Sabrina was coming. Oh, and the dog had been dining on her favorite delicacy, cat shit, outside the bathroom and I stepped on a forgotten morsel in bare feet.
I give it to Adam for dealing with my wrath with mostly grace, and vacuuming and mopping where the cat treat indulgence had taken place. He kept his cool, for the most part, as I lost my top. Finally, closer to dinner, I calmed a bit.
During dinner, I was trying to fill Sabrina in on our trip to Las Vegas, and Miss Punky Pants Taylor was definitely making it a challenge. Between the shrill pay-attention-to-me noise, the using of fingers to dip in ketchup and throwing of a fit because she wanted that big dirl cup, I must have repeated every sentence three times.
My patience almost non-existent, we cleaned up from dinner and Sabrina and I and the three monsters (I mean dogs) were off for our walk. Daddy braved the overtired toddler bath and bedtime chores in order to allow us to walk.
The dogs were also in rare form, pulling on the leash with no abandon or apology, crossing the leashes, tangling each other, lunging towards every bird, every dog, every person, every leaf. They were awful. And usually, by about mile two, they've calmed. Nope. Not this time. It was as though it was their first walk and they needed to see and do every single thing with urgency. They also, which was really weird, each pooped like three times. We had no bags and at one point, Sadie let loose in a very well manicured lawn. I took a sales flyer from a nearby house, and scooped it up and carried it half a mile to a trash receptacle. It was truly nauseating.
I guess today would classify as a sort of mixed bag day. I really think it's all in how you choose to feel. At work, because of the surprising great start, I felt at ease and more inclined to enjoy my day. At home, because of the unsurprising stressful dinner time hour, I felt like, well, sort of a tyrannical mess.
I'm glad that part is over, and sad that it wasn't enjoyable for Adam or Taylor. I am pretty sure that I wasn't the best company. I apologized though, and as I'd promised to do, returned home from my walk in a much better mood....to a husband sound asleep on the couch. =)
20July2010
And....I'm back!
After quite a long hiatus, I have returned! I have recently been feeling like something has been missing; like I've been more stressed than usual. I realized that my outlet for relief was the blog for quite awhile, and it wasn't being utilized. So, here I am.
Whether anyone reads or not, I've always enjoyed journaling and writing. So, I should keep doing it.
I feel like it's been so long since I've blogged, and so much has happened. Let's see. I only have about a half hour before I have to leave for my first day back to work after Las Vegas. (ugh. work. yay! money!)
Big events: After my last blog, we decided to plan a trip to Las Vegas. Big Drama, of which I will definitely get into at a later time. Sabrina and I went to Portland (not sure if that was blogged) after Adam left from leave. I decided I was enormous when I saw a picture of myself, so I made a personal decision to change it. (I've since lost 14 pounds; but I'm pretty sure I've gained a couple back from Las Vegas). April brought a lot of social events...the beer dinner, which was fun as always. It was IPAs, though, of which I'm not a big fan. Ah, and the now infamous Mariners game. Definitely much more to come about that. Dad and Susan came to visit, and we went to Vancouver and Victoria. Taylor was sick the whole time, and so it was pretty awful. Details to come for sure, because the ferry ride from Victoria to Port Angeles was quite....memorable. A week and a half after they left, Dana, Lori and Jeremy came to visit. Definitely a blast! Taylor just loved her Aunt Rori! I have pictures to go with all the stories of their visit! Taylor attended her first (that she was older than 4 months at) birthday party for a boy from her daycare and also her first baby shower. Adam came home June 9th. Of course, all the adjustment period from that is blogworthy. He had lots of time off for he and T to fall in love all over again. Most recently, we went to Las Vegas for four days while Mom and Memeir watched Taylor. Vegas definitely deserves attention here, and so does the instantaneous and uber strong bond that Taylor and her Gamma have. We had her birthday party, and I made way too much food; but we definitely had a great time.
What's next? Well, perhaps soon to come....details about Adam's orders for recruiter school, our trip with the Delmos and Ortizes to a cabin near Leavenworth, Taylor's month in a different daycare home while Darina is on leave (which reminds me that I need to update on her month at the daycare center and the atrocious home she was going to go to), my attempt to get us to Silverwood Theme Park before the end of summer, and Daddy and Aunt Sabrina's birthdays. What a busy summer we'll have!
Well, I'll start from March tonight when I have more time to spare.
Tata, for now.
After quite a long hiatus, I have returned! I have recently been feeling like something has been missing; like I've been more stressed than usual. I realized that my outlet for relief was the blog for quite awhile, and it wasn't being utilized. So, here I am.
Whether anyone reads or not, I've always enjoyed journaling and writing. So, I should keep doing it.
I feel like it's been so long since I've blogged, and so much has happened. Let's see. I only have about a half hour before I have to leave for my first day back to work after Las Vegas. (ugh. work. yay! money!)
Big events: After my last blog, we decided to plan a trip to Las Vegas. Big Drama, of which I will definitely get into at a later time. Sabrina and I went to Portland (not sure if that was blogged) after Adam left from leave. I decided I was enormous when I saw a picture of myself, so I made a personal decision to change it. (I've since lost 14 pounds; but I'm pretty sure I've gained a couple back from Las Vegas). April brought a lot of social events...the beer dinner, which was fun as always. It was IPAs, though, of which I'm not a big fan. Ah, and the now infamous Mariners game. Definitely much more to come about that. Dad and Susan came to visit, and we went to Vancouver and Victoria. Taylor was sick the whole time, and so it was pretty awful. Details to come for sure, because the ferry ride from Victoria to Port Angeles was quite....memorable. A week and a half after they left, Dana, Lori and Jeremy came to visit. Definitely a blast! Taylor just loved her Aunt Rori! I have pictures to go with all the stories of their visit! Taylor attended her first (that she was older than 4 months at) birthday party for a boy from her daycare and also her first baby shower. Adam came home June 9th. Of course, all the adjustment period from that is blogworthy. He had lots of time off for he and T to fall in love all over again. Most recently, we went to Las Vegas for four days while Mom and Memeir watched Taylor. Vegas definitely deserves attention here, and so does the instantaneous and uber strong bond that Taylor and her Gamma have. We had her birthday party, and I made way too much food; but we definitely had a great time.
What's next? Well, perhaps soon to come....details about Adam's orders for recruiter school, our trip with the Delmos and Ortizes to a cabin near Leavenworth, Taylor's month in a different daycare home while Darina is on leave (which reminds me that I need to update on her month at the daycare center and the atrocious home she was going to go to), my attempt to get us to Silverwood Theme Park before the end of summer, and Daddy and Aunt Sabrina's birthdays. What a busy summer we'll have!
Well, I'll start from March tonight when I have more time to spare.
Tata, for now.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
30Mar2010
Today I had a lesson in...humility? Not sure what to call how I feel. I arrived to work at my usual time, expecting to be busy because they were busy yesterday. I also expected to have a lot of work to do because I'd been off for three days; and to be frank -- I am anal about my bar. Plus, with some new meat behind the bar, and a busy weekend...some things don't get done.
What I found, was infuriating. Not only were my expectations met; but it was worse than I thought. I was livid, and running out of time to get everything done before the rush hit. After that, it was over. I left a few notes in the book and complained loudly to the usual people that milled about in the morning, including a manager. There was a lot to be done that should have been done, and some things that might affect what we were able to do for the guests.
Later, as I sat and had dinner I realized that I had forgotten to put away all the wine that had just been delivered. Swallowing my own foot, I texted the night bartenders (the same that had worked the night before and were the object of most of my scathing criticisms) and asked them to finish before the managers (one of which is the one I was complaining to this morning) arrived to do inventory and discover my forgotten and incomplete task.
Needless to say, I see the err of my ways. It's god telling me to shut the hell up and be more tolerant, patient, understanding, and less critical of others. I, myself, am not perfect. I guess sometimes I just need to be reminded of that fact.
What I found, was infuriating. Not only were my expectations met; but it was worse than I thought. I was livid, and running out of time to get everything done before the rush hit. After that, it was over. I left a few notes in the book and complained loudly to the usual people that milled about in the morning, including a manager. There was a lot to be done that should have been done, and some things that might affect what we were able to do for the guests.
Later, as I sat and had dinner I realized that I had forgotten to put away all the wine that had just been delivered. Swallowing my own foot, I texted the night bartenders (the same that had worked the night before and were the object of most of my scathing criticisms) and asked them to finish before the managers (one of which is the one I was complaining to this morning) arrived to do inventory and discover my forgotten and incomplete task.
Needless to say, I see the err of my ways. It's god telling me to shut the hell up and be more tolerant, patient, understanding, and less critical of others. I, myself, am not perfect. I guess sometimes I just need to be reminded of that fact.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
28March2010 2
I guess I was blogging after midnight last night, because I dated it today's date. Weird, because for the last week; I've been really confused about the date and can't seem to keep track of it. I'm pretty sure it's because it isn't important to me. I've determined that, for the most part, we remember what we want to remember, what we're interested in. I know that I've been preoccupied with losing weight, getting healthy; I've been obsessing about food. I really don't like the nutri system food. It's pretty gross. I have found myself starving all weekend. Plus, it has way too much fiber if you know what I mean.
I'm not going to renew the "subscription". I'll finish the two weeks, but I'm definitely supplementing with REAL food. The bars, desserts, and breakfast items are actually pretty good. Anything with chicken was gross, and obviously not fresh. Any kind of meat or dairy product (usually refrigerated) that can somehow sit on a shelf in a grocery store, unrefrigerated- freaks me out. It's just not normal. And I honestly feel wrong eating it. I feel like something is wrong, like I am going against what I really feel.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about the organic debate and whether or not it is healthier, whether or not it makes a difference. I really want to learn more and want to take Dana, Jeremy, and Lori to an organic farm when they come. I'd like for us all to learn more. I even found myself in the comissary today looking at the produce and trying to figure out where it was grown, and how. I noticed, for the first time, that the commissary lists the country where each produce item is grown. I did have trouble finding out where the organic stuff was grown though. I mean, not only is eating organic important to me, but I'd like to eat local as much as possible.
I've also learned that eating organic is next to impossible when you eat out. Very few, and even fewer kid friendly, organic restaurants (even here in overly eco-conscious Washington state) exist. Almost no one advertises grass fed beef. While a lot of chef-owned, higher end, kid unfriendly places do use local this and that or cage free eggs; there is really not a lot available for budget minded, environmentally and socially conscientious families.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not throwing out my leather shoes, or holding up a picket sign against or for anything. I just want more choices. The grocery stores are all on board with healthier eating, better and fresher choices. Why aren't the restaurants? I'm sure that the answer to that is really complicated. I'm sure that (please, try to bear with the conspiracy theorist inside of me) Applebee's is somehow in bed with ConAgra and/or the logistics of a national restaurant chain keeping its food consistent while using local ingredients are probably the barriers to creating the concept that I speak of; but someone out there should do it. Is it financially feasible? There are a million reasons why it probably hasn't been done; not least of all the fact that the economy is horrible and opening something right now wouldn't be the wisest idea.
Well, at least I can buy and cook what I want, for the most part. I can make a choice to buy natural foods. And, if I don't want to, I don't have to. But, I definitely won't be buying anymore Nutrisystem fettucini alfredo dry-pasta-and-seasonings-in-a-cup-just-add-water-and-it-tasted-more-like-noodle-soup-than-alfredo. That's for sure.
I'm not going to renew the "subscription". I'll finish the two weeks, but I'm definitely supplementing with REAL food. The bars, desserts, and breakfast items are actually pretty good. Anything with chicken was gross, and obviously not fresh. Any kind of meat or dairy product (usually refrigerated) that can somehow sit on a shelf in a grocery store, unrefrigerated- freaks me out. It's just not normal. And I honestly feel wrong eating it. I feel like something is wrong, like I am going against what I really feel.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about the organic debate and whether or not it is healthier, whether or not it makes a difference. I really want to learn more and want to take Dana, Jeremy, and Lori to an organic farm when they come. I'd like for us all to learn more. I even found myself in the comissary today looking at the produce and trying to figure out where it was grown, and how. I noticed, for the first time, that the commissary lists the country where each produce item is grown. I did have trouble finding out where the organic stuff was grown though. I mean, not only is eating organic important to me, but I'd like to eat local as much as possible.
I've also learned that eating organic is next to impossible when you eat out. Very few, and even fewer kid friendly, organic restaurants (even here in overly eco-conscious Washington state) exist. Almost no one advertises grass fed beef. While a lot of chef-owned, higher end, kid unfriendly places do use local this and that or cage free eggs; there is really not a lot available for budget minded, environmentally and socially conscientious families.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not throwing out my leather shoes, or holding up a picket sign against or for anything. I just want more choices. The grocery stores are all on board with healthier eating, better and fresher choices. Why aren't the restaurants? I'm sure that the answer to that is really complicated. I'm sure that (please, try to bear with the conspiracy theorist inside of me) Applebee's is somehow in bed with ConAgra and/or the logistics of a national restaurant chain keeping its food consistent while using local ingredients are probably the barriers to creating the concept that I speak of; but someone out there should do it. Is it financially feasible? There are a million reasons why it probably hasn't been done; not least of all the fact that the economy is horrible and opening something right now wouldn't be the wisest idea.
Well, at least I can buy and cook what I want, for the most part. I can make a choice to buy natural foods. And, if I don't want to, I don't have to. But, I definitely won't be buying anymore Nutrisystem fettucini alfredo dry-pasta-and-seasonings-in-a-cup-just-add-water-and-it-tasted-more-like-noodle-soup-than-alfredo. That's for sure.
28March2010
Yesterday, Rylee and I took Taylor and Jax to Oly for dinner. We went to Cascadia Grill, which is right downtown, for burgers. I know what you're saying already. What happened to Nutri System? Well, let's just say that yesteday, I needed a burger. And I was starving from sitting around thinking about how hungry I was all day. LOL. As we drive downtown, it strikes me. First, downtown has no skyscrapers or anything of that nature. It really just looks like a small town downtown. I like that. Then I notice them. Everyone is still lost in the land of grunge. All the clothing is neutral, and flowy, or jeans too tight, hair in dreadlocks. It was apparent that Oly is very hippy and in some cases, obviously mentally ill and homeless. I kind of like artsy, weirdness. Portland, Seattle - both artsy and weird. But at least there, it looked like everyone showered on a regular basis. I don't know that I could say that for Oly. So we circled around and found parking. There were a lot of people milling about, as it was a beautiful day. We crossed over to the burger place, and as we entered we were struck by the decor. There were old school black and white photos or people in a 3d cardboard cityscape kind of design up on top of a high plant ledge. The bar, to the left, reminded me a bit of a saloon. We waited to be sat, and the waitress probably walked by us at least twice before we had to ask where we sit or if we wait. She said she'd be back to seat us in a few minutes, not once cracking an iota of a smile. She didn't look like she smiled much in general. Great, I thought, she's one of those unfriendly professional waitress types. How can these people get by thinking they are entitled to a tip? Isn't tipping based on service? I tip because of tipping karma; but you can tell the difference between a bad day and a sour, undynamic personality. These are people better off not dealing with the public. These are people that make you feel like they are doing you a favor to bring you what you order. I hate that. Anyway, after we were seated, Taylor decided to check out the acoustics of the room by stretching her vocal cords a bit. This was much to my embarassment, and so we attempted to explain to her to use her quiet voice while Jax was sleeping, and that other people were eating and so on and so forth. Really, she just needed to be engaged and distracted. I started to point out things outside, and name colors of things. This worked when there were people walking by to watch.
I ordered a glass of Bodega Malbec (which was $6, and upon inspecting online, is only like $7 a bottle) and it was actually pretty good. Nice and bold, with some buttery creamy notes. I like wine that makes me want to chew it. Weird, I know; but I do. We had hummus and veggies and pita as an appetizer and it was delicious. I also ordered a sofrito burger, medium rare.
When it came, it was well done; which I hate - but I would rather just eat it than wait for another one. There was way too much bread, and it was too hard on the outside to get a proper bite. Because the burger was so big, all of the lovely roasted peppers and onions would slide off of the other side of the burger as I tried to bite it. The smoked cheese on top was the only saving grace. Needless to say, I would not return.
Instead of opting for dessert, as the natives (Taylor) were restless, we opted to walk around the water and downtown area and trek back to suburban civilization to get Coldstone after our walk.
(P.S. Taylor is super hungry this morning. She's eaten a veggie sausage patty, two eggs, and half of a tomato!)
Our trek proved to be equal parts interesting and terrifying from a people watching perspective. We came to an area of fountains that rose in various patterns in the concrete, which was an immediate invitation to Taylor to run around them. We did, and I tried to keep us dry. I kept her drier than I did myself, and we moved on. As we left, a man approached and proceeded to take off his hand-me-down, dirty camoflauge jacket and run into dancing streams of water. Honestly, it was nice out; but it was cold. We left quickly, hoping not to catch his attention...or odor.
As we crossed into a small park square with gazebos, I noticed two girls in one of them. They looked young, teenagers, and looked like they were reading from papers and acting out a script. An older man approached us, wearing age innappropriate clothing, asking us to buy two beanie babies he had in his hands. He gestured them towards Taylor, as if she'd make the decision for me. "They're brand new." He said. Not a chance, dude.
We decided, as dusk approached, and more and more homeless and transient looking people started to come out of the woodwork that it was time to leave.
Coldstone was a funy experience. As we entered, I noticed that Taylor had peed through her pants on both sides! Shocked, we trekked back to the car with the intention to scrap the venture in favor of pints from the grocery store and a short trip back home to clean clothes. Instead, I found that I was strangely prepared and had a spare pair of pants in the car. They even matched what she was wearing. I changed her, and Rylee changed Jax, and off we went into Coldstone. There was a line, of course; but it seemed to move quickly. Never quick enough for Miss T, she was all over the place. She found a boy a year or two older than her and proceeded to flirt with him shamelessly and talk about the ice cream in the case. Finally, we ordered. I got her strawberry with sprinkles, and a kid sized cake batter for myself. Rylee got the berry berry good that Adam usually gets. We sat outside at one of the table, and that's when my favorite moment from the whole day happened.
As Taylor would scoop her mini spoon into her ice cream, she would giggle. Every single time, she laughed. She'd get near the ice cream and this laugh would come from her. It was like she couldn't control it. It was as though she had such joy, and such a feeling of satisfaction from this ice cream. It was a deliberate, conquering laugh. As if she was telling the ice cream that she'd won and was going to eat every last bite. When she thought she was done (because she couldn't see the ice cream hiding in fear on the inside of the cup), she turned her spoon's attention to my ice cream - without asking, apologizing or any sort of inclination that it wasn't her ice cream. I rearranged her cup and she was back to her victorious giggling and scooping.
The whole thing was hilarious. And definitely worth the trip. I can't wait until Adam is home and can see her wreckless abandon with ice cream. It takes me two sittings to eat a kid's sized ice cream from Coldstone; and she'd finished hers in record time - just like her daddy.
He'd be so proud of his little ice cream warrior.
I ordered a glass of Bodega Malbec (which was $6, and upon inspecting online, is only like $7 a bottle) and it was actually pretty good. Nice and bold, with some buttery creamy notes. I like wine that makes me want to chew it. Weird, I know; but I do. We had hummus and veggies and pita as an appetizer and it was delicious. I also ordered a sofrito burger, medium rare.
When it came, it was well done; which I hate - but I would rather just eat it than wait for another one. There was way too much bread, and it was too hard on the outside to get a proper bite. Because the burger was so big, all of the lovely roasted peppers and onions would slide off of the other side of the burger as I tried to bite it. The smoked cheese on top was the only saving grace. Needless to say, I would not return.
Instead of opting for dessert, as the natives (Taylor) were restless, we opted to walk around the water and downtown area and trek back to suburban civilization to get Coldstone after our walk.
(P.S. Taylor is super hungry this morning. She's eaten a veggie sausage patty, two eggs, and half of a tomato!)
Our trek proved to be equal parts interesting and terrifying from a people watching perspective. We came to an area of fountains that rose in various patterns in the concrete, which was an immediate invitation to Taylor to run around them. We did, and I tried to keep us dry. I kept her drier than I did myself, and we moved on. As we left, a man approached and proceeded to take off his hand-me-down, dirty camoflauge jacket and run into dancing streams of water. Honestly, it was nice out; but it was cold. We left quickly, hoping not to catch his attention...or odor.
As we crossed into a small park square with gazebos, I noticed two girls in one of them. They looked young, teenagers, and looked like they were reading from papers and acting out a script. An older man approached us, wearing age innappropriate clothing, asking us to buy two beanie babies he had in his hands. He gestured them towards Taylor, as if she'd make the decision for me. "They're brand new." He said. Not a chance, dude.
We decided, as dusk approached, and more and more homeless and transient looking people started to come out of the woodwork that it was time to leave.
Coldstone was a funy experience. As we entered, I noticed that Taylor had peed through her pants on both sides! Shocked, we trekked back to the car with the intention to scrap the venture in favor of pints from the grocery store and a short trip back home to clean clothes. Instead, I found that I was strangely prepared and had a spare pair of pants in the car. They even matched what she was wearing. I changed her, and Rylee changed Jax, and off we went into Coldstone. There was a line, of course; but it seemed to move quickly. Never quick enough for Miss T, she was all over the place. She found a boy a year or two older than her and proceeded to flirt with him shamelessly and talk about the ice cream in the case. Finally, we ordered. I got her strawberry with sprinkles, and a kid sized cake batter for myself. Rylee got the berry berry good that Adam usually gets. We sat outside at one of the table, and that's when my favorite moment from the whole day happened.
As Taylor would scoop her mini spoon into her ice cream, she would giggle. Every single time, she laughed. She'd get near the ice cream and this laugh would come from her. It was like she couldn't control it. It was as though she had such joy, and such a feeling of satisfaction from this ice cream. It was a deliberate, conquering laugh. As if she was telling the ice cream that she'd won and was going to eat every last bite. When she thought she was done (because she couldn't see the ice cream hiding in fear on the inside of the cup), she turned her spoon's attention to my ice cream - without asking, apologizing or any sort of inclination that it wasn't her ice cream. I rearranged her cup and she was back to her victorious giggling and scooping.
The whole thing was hilarious. And definitely worth the trip. I can't wait until Adam is home and can see her wreckless abandon with ice cream. It takes me two sittings to eat a kid's sized ice cream from Coldstone; and she'd finished hers in record time - just like her daddy.
He'd be so proud of his little ice cream warrior.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
27Mar2010
It's been awhile since I've been on; and I am super excited to be able to update the blog from the very comfortable sofa in my living room. My netbook has arrived, and I love it to pieces! P.S. It's pink. So now, I am free to update my blog while laying in bed, sipping coffee at (anywhere but Starbucks, yuck), or even while simultaneously enjoying a recently DVRed episode of Criminal Minds.
I've started going to the gym since the last blog. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I go with Amelia from work. I have actually started to really enjoy the elliptical machine. It's definitely a personal challenge each time I get on it- go five minutes longer, faster to burn more calories than last time, sweat a little more...I ordered Nutri System, and started it yesterday. It's, so far, not that bad. I can't say that it's the most delicious food that I've ever had; but it isn't horrendous. It's edible and that was all I was really looking for. It allows you to track your weight, food, and exercise for each day online, too. I like that. It prompted me to measure out the creamer that I usually use each morning in my coffee. Typically, I just pour it into freshly brewed coffee in my oversized 25 ounce cup. Yesterday, I measured it. 14 tablespoons later, I was shocked and disgusted and truly beginning to understand exactly why I am overweight. To be clear, that's 280 calories of coffee creamer. I immediately thought, I'd much rather eat those 280 calories. Or, not injest them at all. That is about how much I'd burned the day before on the elliptical. So I am basically exercising in order to drink my coffee every day. I love my coffee, but I also love the idea of loving my body. So, I resolved to cut my coffee intake in half and continue to measure the creamer.
I also realized that I am or was, totally unaware of what I was eating. It really got me thinking. A few crackers here, fnishing Taylor's macaroni and cheese there, a french fry or three while working, a slice of a pizza that was made incorrectly...it all adds up, and quickly. I like the nutri system because it forces me to know what I am eating and drinking. For instance, I am a professed lover of vodka and knowing now that vodka has seventy calories PER OUNCE really has enticed me not to drink any.
And that's saying something....
I've started going to the gym since the last blog. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I go with Amelia from work. I have actually started to really enjoy the elliptical machine. It's definitely a personal challenge each time I get on it- go five minutes longer, faster to burn more calories than last time, sweat a little more...I ordered Nutri System, and started it yesterday. It's, so far, not that bad. I can't say that it's the most delicious food that I've ever had; but it isn't horrendous. It's edible and that was all I was really looking for. It allows you to track your weight, food, and exercise for each day online, too. I like that. It prompted me to measure out the creamer that I usually use each morning in my coffee. Typically, I just pour it into freshly brewed coffee in my oversized 25 ounce cup. Yesterday, I measured it. 14 tablespoons later, I was shocked and disgusted and truly beginning to understand exactly why I am overweight. To be clear, that's 280 calories of coffee creamer. I immediately thought, I'd much rather eat those 280 calories. Or, not injest them at all. That is about how much I'd burned the day before on the elliptical. So I am basically exercising in order to drink my coffee every day. I love my coffee, but I also love the idea of loving my body. So, I resolved to cut my coffee intake in half and continue to measure the creamer.
I also realized that I am or was, totally unaware of what I was eating. It really got me thinking. A few crackers here, fnishing Taylor's macaroni and cheese there, a french fry or three while working, a slice of a pizza that was made incorrectly...it all adds up, and quickly. I like the nutri system because it forces me to know what I am eating and drinking. For instance, I am a professed lover of vodka and knowing now that vodka has seventy calories PER OUNCE really has enticed me not to drink any.
And that's saying something....
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
16March2010
Dear Skinny Kristy,
I am writing this letter to you, skinny kristy of the future (thirty pounds in three months??!?) in order to express to you congratulations for sticking with it! The final straw was a picture taken in Portland this past weekend. I was sitting (ugh) and leaning (ugh, more squishiness) and honestly, embarrassingly I couldn't see where boobs ended and belly began. Not to mention the fat girl arms. I was thoroughly disgusted. I can not take it anymore. I must be more conscientious about what is going into my mouth (please insert innappropriate sexual references here....) and get off of my lazy butt and exercise. I am totally out of excuses. I don't want to get out of bed in the morning, and I like food. These are the reasons I am fat. I will also keep account, as public record even!, my food intake for the day. I feel like putting it up here, on my blog, for all to see....will make me accountable. It will make it real. I can't hide from the internet!
So here goes:
For breakfast:
Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly Uncrustables. (which I thought wasn't too bad, and it isn't but it isn't really great, either. Not a lot of protein (which I hear keeps you full and energized!)
For lunch (which I couldn't eat until after work, because I was busy):
Healthy Choice Fresh Mixers, Ziti and Meat Sauce (I know, I know. A lot of processed food. I do need to work on that; but quick counts and is necessary. Hmm, fruit is quick. Perhaps, I could squeeze in a banana at work while I'm working just to curb the beasties.)
In the car, on the way to pick up Taylor, I was accosted by a bag of Goldfish (with whole grain!lol as if.) and ate ten of them. Yes, I did count.
For dinner: (and this is where it gets really good, because I promised myself a healthy veggie dinner, and I am so proud because I stuck to it!!!!)
Green Giant carrots, white beans and spinach in a garlic butter sauce. (Again, yes, I am aware of all the processed food today; but frozen veggies have a lot of nutrients, too. And I read the nutritional information on this one. It's pretty good for me.)
For dessert, I did have a mini chocolate cupcake and cream cheese frosting. I also took a vitamin and drank my giant coffee with sugar free (not, unfortunately, calorie free) creamer. I am currently attempting to hydrate; and drink at least thirty ounces of water today.
Well, to be honest. That was really hard. In actually putting it all on paper; I am sort of ashamed. Today was me trying really hard, and I feel like I ate a lot of already made foods. I also feel, right now, like I really want to snack; because that is always what I do. Instead, I will attempt to meet my water quota. I am not really hungry; I don't think; but I don't think I ate enough calories today. I don't want to ruin my hard work with a hot pocket or ice cream or something; but I think tomorrow I should focus on eating more earlier and eating home cooked foods in the future. I will most likely continue with my healthy choice meals until I find a better take-it-to-work and eat-it-really-quick solution.
Tomorrow, I am going to attempt to get my freshly motivated butt out of bed and go work out. My plan is to be up at 6:30 and leaving by 7 (Taylor in tow), to work out by 7:30 and done by 8:30, home again by 8:45 and leaving the house by 9:45 to get to work by 10.
We'll see how that goes. It will be hectic and is all dependent on not hitting snooze.
Wish me luck, future beautiful-in-a-bathingsuit-self!
Love,
Heavier-but-newly-motivated-to-change-Kristy
I am writing this letter to you, skinny kristy of the future (thirty pounds in three months??!?) in order to express to you congratulations for sticking with it! The final straw was a picture taken in Portland this past weekend. I was sitting (ugh) and leaning (ugh, more squishiness) and honestly, embarrassingly I couldn't see where boobs ended and belly began. Not to mention the fat girl arms. I was thoroughly disgusted. I can not take it anymore. I must be more conscientious about what is going into my mouth (please insert innappropriate sexual references here....) and get off of my lazy butt and exercise. I am totally out of excuses. I don't want to get out of bed in the morning, and I like food. These are the reasons I am fat. I will also keep account, as public record even!, my food intake for the day. I feel like putting it up here, on my blog, for all to see....will make me accountable. It will make it real. I can't hide from the internet!
So here goes:
For breakfast:
Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly Uncrustables. (which I thought wasn't too bad, and it isn't but it isn't really great, either. Not a lot of protein (which I hear keeps you full and energized!)
For lunch (which I couldn't eat until after work, because I was busy):
Healthy Choice Fresh Mixers, Ziti and Meat Sauce (I know, I know. A lot of processed food. I do need to work on that; but quick counts and is necessary. Hmm, fruit is quick. Perhaps, I could squeeze in a banana at work while I'm working just to curb the beasties.)
In the car, on the way to pick up Taylor, I was accosted by a bag of Goldfish (with whole grain!lol as if.) and ate ten of them. Yes, I did count.
For dinner: (and this is where it gets really good, because I promised myself a healthy veggie dinner, and I am so proud because I stuck to it!!!!)
Green Giant carrots, white beans and spinach in a garlic butter sauce. (Again, yes, I am aware of all the processed food today; but frozen veggies have a lot of nutrients, too. And I read the nutritional information on this one. It's pretty good for me.)
For dessert, I did have a mini chocolate cupcake and cream cheese frosting. I also took a vitamin and drank my giant coffee with sugar free (not, unfortunately, calorie free) creamer. I am currently attempting to hydrate; and drink at least thirty ounces of water today.
Well, to be honest. That was really hard. In actually putting it all on paper; I am sort of ashamed. Today was me trying really hard, and I feel like I ate a lot of already made foods. I also feel, right now, like I really want to snack; because that is always what I do. Instead, I will attempt to meet my water quota. I am not really hungry; I don't think; but I don't think I ate enough calories today. I don't want to ruin my hard work with a hot pocket or ice cream or something; but I think tomorrow I should focus on eating more earlier and eating home cooked foods in the future. I will most likely continue with my healthy choice meals until I find a better take-it-to-work and eat-it-really-quick solution.
Tomorrow, I am going to attempt to get my freshly motivated butt out of bed and go work out. My plan is to be up at 6:30 and leaving by 7 (Taylor in tow), to work out by 7:30 and done by 8:30, home again by 8:45 and leaving the house by 9:45 to get to work by 10.
We'll see how that goes. It will be hectic and is all dependent on not hitting snooze.
Wish me luck, future beautiful-in-a-bathingsuit-self!
Love,
Heavier-but-newly-motivated-to-change-Kristy
Monday, March 8, 2010
8mar2010
So I just got off of the skype with Adam. It was a really hard call. He's just started to work out again, so he's super motivated and wants me to be too. Well, I'm not. In fact, I feel exactly the opposite. In the first week after he left, I drank every day. By myself after Taylor went to bed, while watching Criminal Minds or other assorted crap on tv, I drank. Sometimes one, mostly two or three strong drinks. I made myself stop; not because I didn't want to drink anymore; but because I knew I should or it could go somewhere really bad. I felt it getting past the point of acceptability. I wanted to drink during the day. It was really all I wanted to do. I knew that wasn't ok. Anyway, I knew I was drinking because I was depressed about him leaving; but that's just an excuse, isn't it? I can deal with it another way. Like, by actually dealing with it.
So this past weekend, Taylor was sick. Needless to say, we didn't do much. We barely left the house. And I barely left the couch. I mustered up enough motivation to vacuum upstairs, do laundy and make an attempt at keeping the dishes at bay. Otherwise, I didn't clean the rest of the house like I'd wanted to. On Friday, during her three and a half hour nap, I layed on the couch and watched three and a half hours of tv. I literally had no motivation or desire or energy, what felt like, ability to raise myself from the couch and accomplish something.
Now, to a normal person, capable of moving on from small setbacks like this; no big deal. But, to obsessive me - big deal. I feel like for as long as I can remember, I've been really hard on myself. I've never been satisfied with what I've done, how much I've accomplished, or ever been able to forgive myself for even the smallest trespass against my goals. For example, if I am supposed to wash my face, floss, and brush my teeth at night and I don't do it; I feel such a sense of self-defeat that I don't do it for days afterwards. It makes no sense; but I feel like such a failure, why should I bother? This happens often, and in so many small ways and situations. I think that this is why I've settled for mediocrity in so many areas of my life. I am afraid to fail. I am so afraid to fail that I have failed already. I have failed myself. I have convinced myself that I will fail, and so why even bother? And if I stumble, and something even remotely close to a failure is visible from even the farthest distance, I fail. So I quit. If I can't do it perfectly, every time, I fail. So I don't do it. Then, by not doing it, I fail. This is the vicious cycle that I live in daily. Every single day, the greatest challenges for me are maintaining routine and performing mundane tasks. The hardest part of my life is (feel free to laugh contemptuously) brushing my teeth. But, for me, doing all of these things is next to impossible.
All of this is nothing I haven't known. But it is something I've never admitted to anyone. Ever. Adam was trying to help me. He was "coaching" like men do "Oh, you can do it! Just set goals, and so on and so forth." (with regards to exercise). I told him I knew myself and that I couldn't. just. do. it. Eventually, all of this came flooding out. Who am I that I should lie anymore? Why shouldn't I face the truth of it. But, facing the truth and actually being able (as in, having the psychological tools and then being motivated enough to use them) to do something about the ugly truth are two different things. And now that he knows, I will be forced to fix it. Perhaps, a good thing. But, even as I write this, I fear that these are things I really can't fix on my own. I am not really sure what to do. I've been defeating myself my entire life. How do I stop now, and learn to think completely differently after thirty years? I'm not really sure what to do, but I know I have to stop. I want things. I want to be things. I want to do things. And not beat myself up so much if I don't do them, so that I can do other things.
Even as I reread this blog, I am feeling skiddish. I don't want to face how deep I really feel about some things about myself. But, even my crazy brain knows that if I don't, it won't ever get better.
So this past weekend, Taylor was sick. Needless to say, we didn't do much. We barely left the house. And I barely left the couch. I mustered up enough motivation to vacuum upstairs, do laundy and make an attempt at keeping the dishes at bay. Otherwise, I didn't clean the rest of the house like I'd wanted to. On Friday, during her three and a half hour nap, I layed on the couch and watched three and a half hours of tv. I literally had no motivation or desire or energy, what felt like, ability to raise myself from the couch and accomplish something.
Now, to a normal person, capable of moving on from small setbacks like this; no big deal. But, to obsessive me - big deal. I feel like for as long as I can remember, I've been really hard on myself. I've never been satisfied with what I've done, how much I've accomplished, or ever been able to forgive myself for even the smallest trespass against my goals. For example, if I am supposed to wash my face, floss, and brush my teeth at night and I don't do it; I feel such a sense of self-defeat that I don't do it for days afterwards. It makes no sense; but I feel like such a failure, why should I bother? This happens often, and in so many small ways and situations. I think that this is why I've settled for mediocrity in so many areas of my life. I am afraid to fail. I am so afraid to fail that I have failed already. I have failed myself. I have convinced myself that I will fail, and so why even bother? And if I stumble, and something even remotely close to a failure is visible from even the farthest distance, I fail. So I quit. If I can't do it perfectly, every time, I fail. So I don't do it. Then, by not doing it, I fail. This is the vicious cycle that I live in daily. Every single day, the greatest challenges for me are maintaining routine and performing mundane tasks. The hardest part of my life is (feel free to laugh contemptuously) brushing my teeth. But, for me, doing all of these things is next to impossible.
All of this is nothing I haven't known. But it is something I've never admitted to anyone. Ever. Adam was trying to help me. He was "coaching" like men do "Oh, you can do it! Just set goals, and so on and so forth." (with regards to exercise). I told him I knew myself and that I couldn't. just. do. it. Eventually, all of this came flooding out. Who am I that I should lie anymore? Why shouldn't I face the truth of it. But, facing the truth and actually being able (as in, having the psychological tools and then being motivated enough to use them) to do something about the ugly truth are two different things. And now that he knows, I will be forced to fix it. Perhaps, a good thing. But, even as I write this, I fear that these are things I really can't fix on my own. I am not really sure what to do. I've been defeating myself my entire life. How do I stop now, and learn to think completely differently after thirty years? I'm not really sure what to do, but I know I have to stop. I want things. I want to be things. I want to do things. And not beat myself up so much if I don't do them, so that I can do other things.
Even as I reread this blog, I am feeling skiddish. I don't want to face how deep I really feel about some things about myself. But, even my crazy brain knows that if I don't, it won't ever get better.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
23Feb2010
So Adam has come and gone again. I didn't blog, because I was frankly too busy and too happy to blog. lol.
As he was to arrive, I went through the gamut of emotions. I felt anxious, nervous, excited, really excited, then really really excited.
Taylor and I went to the airport and we were a touch early, so we waited by the bag claim. I was really anxious, because before he'd left, we'd been sort of out of sorts. I have to be totally honest, here; now that I feel differently; I don't feel guilty for being honest and open about how I felt. It took me awhile to really miss Adam. We'd been fighting a lot, and I was relieved to have a bit of space between us at first. I was angry. It was nice at first, to have alone time, to not be fighting or have our home be it's own war zone. Who knows now what it was all about; but we weren't on the same page. I'm sure a bit of it had to do with him leaving, on his part..the stress, the sadness of leaving his baby. I don't want to reopen old wounds by trying to psychoanalyze our relationship anymore than I already have. (and we know how I obsess, so I have done plently of overanalysis). But, I was angry. I did eventually cool off to a point where I started to appreciate what he went through on a daily basis when he was home. I was getting tired, overwhelmed, overworked, overstressed, confused about how to raise our daughter by myself. I stressed about what he would think of the job I'd been doing while he was gone - with the car, the house, the baby. It's all too easy to judge when you've never walked in the other person's shoes. I thought about how he'd worked from 5 am to 5pm and how I'd been unrelenting on needing help the moment we got home. I thought about how I felt when I came home, how I had to push through to get dinner done and dishes and manage to have patience with Taylor when she made enormous messes. I thought of all this, and I forgave him. I forgave him for his impatience, for his irritability. I finally understood. And I also appreciated him more. He was always a great dad, and has over the years become a pretty good husband. (Yes, I am aware that I am no stepford wife myself.)
So when he came home and we saw him for the first time; the awkwardness was malleable - we knew it was there (or at least I did) and I hoped it would change. Taylor didn't know him, and he'd come with a teddy bear; which warmed her but not quite enough to allow him to hug or carry her. The hurt was visible on his face, and my heart wrenched for him. I felt awful, because I knew she'd react this way; but I knew that he'd hoped she wouldn't. A few days, I told him, and they'd be inseperable.
He seemed tired, exhausted from travel and now his face wore her rejection so painfully. His face was twisted for the next two days as he fought to win her love, and every time, it looked as though he might cry.
If Adam is known for anything though, it's his persistence. He didn't give up, patiently receiving any attention or affection she'd choose to lavish upon him. One of the first intimacies she bestowed upon him was kissing him awake when he'd "fallen asleep". He must've played that game with her for hours in those first few days - just for those few precious kisses.
It was hard to watch all this unfold, and be helpless to change the situation. But I knew what was keeping her from leaping forward. It was apparent that there was some conversation that we neeeded to have, some fighting it out we needed to do. We tend to do that. We fight each other to love each other. Sometimes, we need a healthy dose of drinks, conversation, and tears. Sometimes, that's what it takes for us to come back to each other.
For me, it was the unspoken and untalked about maybechoice that I'd made while he was gone. Having more children; like the actual pregnancy and childbirth process was horrific for me - physically and emotionally. I am truly terrified of ever doing it again and would be perfectly content not to. (on the other hand, it would be great to have bunches of whittle t's...I'm just afraid of not making it through another one) I didn't tell him any of that while he was gone, because it just isn't a conversation you have over skype. I was terrified that it would be a deal breaker for him. Through our drunken tears and (yes, both of us lol) we came to a compromise. We'd do all the research on what it would mean if we did it again; but he'd love me even if I never could bring myself to go through it again. Of course, he wants a son or even another daughter; but he understood my fear. It was as though someone had made me weightless in that moment. My shoulders felt normal again, not weighted down with fear of wife failure. Who knows what else we talked about, but the next day...we were us again.
I think it may have been that day that Taylor fell in love with her daddy. It was the first time that she wanted him and not mommy. I didn't feel rejected; in fact, I felt quite the opposite. We were a family and a whole one again. We had a few days before the parents-in-law joined us (and an extra one due to 1435650 inches of snow in Maryland) and they were glorious. I fell in love with Taylor's daddy again, and we were complete. I wasn't worried about our marriage anymore, and was quickly remembering everything I love about this man of mine.
When the parents arrived, I was asleep because it was so late; but the guest room was ready and they came in with no problems. I must say that I am (and I'm not saying this because I know they read it, lol) really lucky because I have great in laws. Yes, they have different political views, and I know they hate that I don't call more; but they are great. We had a blast with them, and mostly for the first few days - we stayed home. Poor Mom2 got sick and had a bad cold the first few days, so she wasn't really in the mood to be out and about which was fine because we all hung around and got to know each other again. We played card games, which I miserably lost; Adam and his dad installed his new car stereo and hydraulic hood lifter things for his car, they moved the chandelier to hang over the dining room table in it's new location and installed a fan where it used to be.
I even went to Lowe's with Adam and his dad one day while Mom2 stayed home with the punkus maximus. I must say, I did know better when they had a list of things to get for the fan and chandelier move, and they said "We'll meet you in the fan section. We'll just be five minutes." I knew. I knew.
I found a fan, had it picked out and on a cart; and also had a new towelbar for the one that broke in the powder room within fifteen minutes.
We were there for two hours.
I tease, but I am grateful for the amazing job that they did. They also installed the new towel bar, a motion sensing light for the garage, new dimmer switch for the chandelier, and figured out that the light switch that I thought for the last 3.5 years that went to nothing- goes to the outlet that I thought for the last 3.5 years was broken.
Try to contain your laughter.
Adam had a great visit with his dad, and I enjoyed having another woman around; especially one with experience that could reassure me when I wasn't clear on Miss Taylor's behavior. Mom2 had some great ideas, of which I have employed some of them already. For instance, when Taylor refuses socks; I hold up two pairs and let her choose. Then if she still refuses, I remind her that she already chose one. Believe it or not, it mostly works. Even when she still refuses, it's much less assertive and almost like she knows I got her. lol. (her daddy's daughter...logical)
I enjoyed that Adam did have one day of pure Taylor without anyone around while I worked. It helped him to also see what I have been going through while he was gone. I think he thought it was a lot easier. He tended to give me less of a hard time about why certain things weren't done once he had a taste of trying to vacuum while Taylor sitting. He did say that day that they were having too much fun for a nap. Good, I thought, because I knew that was an awesome day for both of them.
He taught her how to jump around like a frog going "ribbit ribbit"; only she says "riddit riddit". He taught her to oohooh ahh ahh like a monkey, and to tittle tittle (tickle tickle). She saw him naked when he was getting into the shower one day, and it was hilarious for me and totally awkward for them. She looked, then looked away, then looked back and stared. Right. At. His. Penis. I bursted into laughter at the perplexed look on her face, and he turned away quickly, thoroughly embarrassed. I explained the usual, daddy's a boy; etc. It had no effect and she kept trying to peek in on his shower. I'm sure she was wondering where his "gyna" was.
I dealt with awkward texts from family members (ehem, dad) in all caps asking about my hemmorhoids and such. LOL
Serves me right for blogging it. Adam and the parents, also wise to the wax situation, all laughed at me about it.
We had a Taylor free day, and she went to Darina's and stayed late while we went to Bodies - The Exhibition and the Melting Pot for dinner. It was tremendous. The next day we all, including the Delmos (who also joined us for the melting pot dinner fresh from buying Delmo a new Chevy truck (and it's super nice)), went to the Woodland Park Zoo; which is a phenominal zoo. Taylor loved it; and still my favorite exhibit is the gorillas.
The parents left, and Adam stayed two more days; we tried to remain cheerful and excited; but his impending departure loomed like Seattle rain clouds in January. This was a truly wonderful visit. I loved every second of him, and am reminded again why we do what we do every day. I know why we suffer through all the mediocre, stressful, lonely days. Because the ones we have together, they make it totally worth the sacrafice. I love my husband and I can't wait until he comes home again.
As he was to arrive, I went through the gamut of emotions. I felt anxious, nervous, excited, really excited, then really really excited.
Taylor and I went to the airport and we were a touch early, so we waited by the bag claim. I was really anxious, because before he'd left, we'd been sort of out of sorts. I have to be totally honest, here; now that I feel differently; I don't feel guilty for being honest and open about how I felt. It took me awhile to really miss Adam. We'd been fighting a lot, and I was relieved to have a bit of space between us at first. I was angry. It was nice at first, to have alone time, to not be fighting or have our home be it's own war zone. Who knows now what it was all about; but we weren't on the same page. I'm sure a bit of it had to do with him leaving, on his part..the stress, the sadness of leaving his baby. I don't want to reopen old wounds by trying to psychoanalyze our relationship anymore than I already have. (and we know how I obsess, so I have done plently of overanalysis). But, I was angry. I did eventually cool off to a point where I started to appreciate what he went through on a daily basis when he was home. I was getting tired, overwhelmed, overworked, overstressed, confused about how to raise our daughter by myself. I stressed about what he would think of the job I'd been doing while he was gone - with the car, the house, the baby. It's all too easy to judge when you've never walked in the other person's shoes. I thought about how he'd worked from 5 am to 5pm and how I'd been unrelenting on needing help the moment we got home. I thought about how I felt when I came home, how I had to push through to get dinner done and dishes and manage to have patience with Taylor when she made enormous messes. I thought of all this, and I forgave him. I forgave him for his impatience, for his irritability. I finally understood. And I also appreciated him more. He was always a great dad, and has over the years become a pretty good husband. (Yes, I am aware that I am no stepford wife myself.)
So when he came home and we saw him for the first time; the awkwardness was malleable - we knew it was there (or at least I did) and I hoped it would change. Taylor didn't know him, and he'd come with a teddy bear; which warmed her but not quite enough to allow him to hug or carry her. The hurt was visible on his face, and my heart wrenched for him. I felt awful, because I knew she'd react this way; but I knew that he'd hoped she wouldn't. A few days, I told him, and they'd be inseperable.
He seemed tired, exhausted from travel and now his face wore her rejection so painfully. His face was twisted for the next two days as he fought to win her love, and every time, it looked as though he might cry.
If Adam is known for anything though, it's his persistence. He didn't give up, patiently receiving any attention or affection she'd choose to lavish upon him. One of the first intimacies she bestowed upon him was kissing him awake when he'd "fallen asleep". He must've played that game with her for hours in those first few days - just for those few precious kisses.
It was hard to watch all this unfold, and be helpless to change the situation. But I knew what was keeping her from leaping forward. It was apparent that there was some conversation that we neeeded to have, some fighting it out we needed to do. We tend to do that. We fight each other to love each other. Sometimes, we need a healthy dose of drinks, conversation, and tears. Sometimes, that's what it takes for us to come back to each other.
For me, it was the unspoken and untalked about maybechoice that I'd made while he was gone. Having more children; like the actual pregnancy and childbirth process was horrific for me - physically and emotionally. I am truly terrified of ever doing it again and would be perfectly content not to. (on the other hand, it would be great to have bunches of whittle t's...I'm just afraid of not making it through another one) I didn't tell him any of that while he was gone, because it just isn't a conversation you have over skype. I was terrified that it would be a deal breaker for him. Through our drunken tears and (yes, both of us lol) we came to a compromise. We'd do all the research on what it would mean if we did it again; but he'd love me even if I never could bring myself to go through it again. Of course, he wants a son or even another daughter; but he understood my fear. It was as though someone had made me weightless in that moment. My shoulders felt normal again, not weighted down with fear of wife failure. Who knows what else we talked about, but the next day...we were us again.
I think it may have been that day that Taylor fell in love with her daddy. It was the first time that she wanted him and not mommy. I didn't feel rejected; in fact, I felt quite the opposite. We were a family and a whole one again. We had a few days before the parents-in-law joined us (and an extra one due to 1435650 inches of snow in Maryland) and they were glorious. I fell in love with Taylor's daddy again, and we were complete. I wasn't worried about our marriage anymore, and was quickly remembering everything I love about this man of mine.
When the parents arrived, I was asleep because it was so late; but the guest room was ready and they came in with no problems. I must say that I am (and I'm not saying this because I know they read it, lol) really lucky because I have great in laws. Yes, they have different political views, and I know they hate that I don't call more; but they are great. We had a blast with them, and mostly for the first few days - we stayed home. Poor Mom2 got sick and had a bad cold the first few days, so she wasn't really in the mood to be out and about which was fine because we all hung around and got to know each other again. We played card games, which I miserably lost; Adam and his dad installed his new car stereo and hydraulic hood lifter things for his car, they moved the chandelier to hang over the dining room table in it's new location and installed a fan where it used to be.
I even went to Lowe's with Adam and his dad one day while Mom2 stayed home with the punkus maximus. I must say, I did know better when they had a list of things to get for the fan and chandelier move, and they said "We'll meet you in the fan section. We'll just be five minutes." I knew. I knew.
I found a fan, had it picked out and on a cart; and also had a new towelbar for the one that broke in the powder room within fifteen minutes.
We were there for two hours.
I tease, but I am grateful for the amazing job that they did. They also installed the new towel bar, a motion sensing light for the garage, new dimmer switch for the chandelier, and figured out that the light switch that I thought for the last 3.5 years that went to nothing- goes to the outlet that I thought for the last 3.5 years was broken.
Try to contain your laughter.
Adam had a great visit with his dad, and I enjoyed having another woman around; especially one with experience that could reassure me when I wasn't clear on Miss Taylor's behavior. Mom2 had some great ideas, of which I have employed some of them already. For instance, when Taylor refuses socks; I hold up two pairs and let her choose. Then if she still refuses, I remind her that she already chose one. Believe it or not, it mostly works. Even when she still refuses, it's much less assertive and almost like she knows I got her. lol. (her daddy's daughter...logical)
I enjoyed that Adam did have one day of pure Taylor without anyone around while I worked. It helped him to also see what I have been going through while he was gone. I think he thought it was a lot easier. He tended to give me less of a hard time about why certain things weren't done once he had a taste of trying to vacuum while Taylor sitting. He did say that day that they were having too much fun for a nap. Good, I thought, because I knew that was an awesome day for both of them.
He taught her how to jump around like a frog going "ribbit ribbit"; only she says "riddit riddit". He taught her to oohooh ahh ahh like a monkey, and to tittle tittle (tickle tickle). She saw him naked when he was getting into the shower one day, and it was hilarious for me and totally awkward for them. She looked, then looked away, then looked back and stared. Right. At. His. Penis. I bursted into laughter at the perplexed look on her face, and he turned away quickly, thoroughly embarrassed. I explained the usual, daddy's a boy; etc. It had no effect and she kept trying to peek in on his shower. I'm sure she was wondering where his "gyna" was.
I dealt with awkward texts from family members (ehem, dad) in all caps asking about my hemmorhoids and such. LOL
Serves me right for blogging it. Adam and the parents, also wise to the wax situation, all laughed at me about it.
We had a Taylor free day, and she went to Darina's and stayed late while we went to Bodies - The Exhibition and the Melting Pot for dinner. It was tremendous. The next day we all, including the Delmos (who also joined us for the melting pot dinner fresh from buying Delmo a new Chevy truck (and it's super nice)), went to the Woodland Park Zoo; which is a phenominal zoo. Taylor loved it; and still my favorite exhibit is the gorillas.
The parents left, and Adam stayed two more days; we tried to remain cheerful and excited; but his impending departure loomed like Seattle rain clouds in January. This was a truly wonderful visit. I loved every second of him, and am reminded again why we do what we do every day. I know why we suffer through all the mediocre, stressful, lonely days. Because the ones we have together, they make it totally worth the sacrafice. I love my husband and I can't wait until he comes home again.
Friday, February 5, 2010
5Feb2010
So the eve of the day of return is upon me. Adam has been sans communique since Mondayish when he was leaving Iraq the next day. Finally today, I get a text from his email. He's in Germany and expected to land in Dallas tonight. He'll be in Seattle tomorrow.
As the day has drawn closer, but still remained unclear it's been a weird anticipation. I didn't know when he was coming until today. And now, the butterflies have arrived. I got the text just as Taylor and I were walking into Costco. As we entered, I read the text and wanted to shout it out loud for the whole (extremely packed pre-superbowl) crowd. There was one woman standing near as I overzealously told Taylor that Daddy was coming home tomorrow and that Mommy wanted to cry. (Side note: Does it say something about socialization that I automatically capitalized Daddy, and had to backspace to capitalize Mommy?) Needless to say, the trip to Costco was pretty great. In fact, the whole day since then has been pretty good. It's 9pm now, and in less than 24 hours he will be here.
I'm super nervous. And super excited. Taylor has grown and changed so much; I can't wait for her to fall in love with her daddy and spend the next two weeks wrapping him tightly around her little finger. My head is swimming, and I know there are things I wanted to do, but didn't. But, right now I can't think of them. Right now, I plan on having a cocktail and enjoying CSI. Right now, I need to calm down because I am sure my resting heart rate is at least 349.
As the day has drawn closer, but still remained unclear it's been a weird anticipation. I didn't know when he was coming until today. And now, the butterflies have arrived. I got the text just as Taylor and I were walking into Costco. As we entered, I read the text and wanted to shout it out loud for the whole (extremely packed pre-superbowl) crowd. There was one woman standing near as I overzealously told Taylor that Daddy was coming home tomorrow and that Mommy wanted to cry. (Side note: Does it say something about socialization that I automatically capitalized Daddy, and had to backspace to capitalize Mommy?) Needless to say, the trip to Costco was pretty great. In fact, the whole day since then has been pretty good. It's 9pm now, and in less than 24 hours he will be here.
I'm super nervous. And super excited. Taylor has grown and changed so much; I can't wait for her to fall in love with her daddy and spend the next two weeks wrapping him tightly around her little finger. My head is swimming, and I know there are things I wanted to do, but didn't. But, right now I can't think of them. Right now, I plan on having a cocktail and enjoying CSI. Right now, I need to calm down because I am sure my resting heart rate is at least 349.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
3Feb2010
After a few days, mostly full of what can most accurately be described as painful. So Monday, I got my first bikini wax. But, of course, I couldn't get jus a regular bikini wax. I had to go and get a brazillian bikini wax. So I talked about it with a lot of my girlfriends beforehand, just to sort of work up the nerve. Well, Monday came and the moment was upon me. I sat in the parking lot, a half hour early (oops) talking to Memeir on the phone. I told her what I was about to do and she said "Well, I don't want to ask how it was, but if you want to tell me..." LOL. I know she is morbidly curious like everyone else. Honestly, I was morbidly curious. I could have just took a little off of the sides like most normal people would do for their first wax. But, alas, I opted for going....all....the....way!!!!!!
I went in and waited for the woman who was to sadistically rip all the hair out of the most tender region of my body for the next hour, and was so nervous I was in a cold sweat (which was probably not good, considering what I was about to have done) and couldn't stop my one leg from dancing up and down despite it's stationary position under the other leg. Finally, she arrived and ushered me to the room. It was a really nice salon, with a full service spa; so I wasn't surprised by the dimish lighting and enya-esque music playing as we entered the room that was almost identical to their massage rooms (save for the extraordinarily messy crock pots of molten wax on the counter).
On top of the "massage" table (how ironic) was a hand towel and one of those portable clean-your-gyna wipes in a packet. She instructed me to get nakie and drape the (tiny) towel over my nether regions. After she left, I did as she said and not sure if I should cleanse before or after, I held onto the packet and awaited her return.
She never said anything about the cleansing packet that I had clenched in my hand, but she moved the towel aside and told me to bring my right leg up so my foot rested on the inside of my left knee. Like I had a lil captain in me. lol
I did, awkwardly and nervously. And to be totally frank, the part that made me the most nervous was that I am usually pretty...anyway, too much detail. But women probably know what I mean. I am sure she's not new at this. So she gets started and we are chatting about nothings. The first strip was in the crook of my leg and bikini area. It hurt, but not too bad. The next one was where it really counted, where, if she stopped; I'd be missing a patch. That one hurt. She said most people thought that the top area hurt more than the lower, more delicate area. I was shocked, thinking it was the other way around. Well, it did hurt; for about 20 seconds it was agony. The most painful part was the anticipation. She'd paint on the wax, not so bad. Warm, and sometimes it pulled the hairs a bit. But then she'd take the fabric and press it onto the wax, ever so gently....oh the anticipation killed me. Then it was Rrrrrrrrrrrrripppppppp!!!!
Off came my hair, probably some skin....it was awful. Then it was slightly numb and slightly throbbing all at once. When she got out this stick covered in black wax, I got nervous.
She said it was a special wax that had to dry. wtf??? She pulled on, you know, and applied it to the outside of them. It dried, with the fabric on it, and then she flicked it. I thought I would die. She said you had to flick it to get it loose enough to pull off. Then she yanked. I freaked! It was horrible. It felt like she was ripping my gyna lips right off. I flinched so badly I was almost sitting up. I endured two more of these before telling her to forget the last one and that I could do a bit of self-maintenance.
And so it went on, her ripping out my hair; me attempting not to cry every thirty seconds. We made more awkward small talk, mostly because when my mind was somewhere else I wouldn't anticipate the pulling off part as much, which made it hurt a little less.
Nonetheless, it was agony. Then came the weird part. Then came...the back part. Without going into too much detail, picture that scene in Sex and the City where Carrie gets a wax from that crazy german lady and she takes it all. Carrie, in the scene, is laying there with her leg straight up in the air, holding onto it. That was me. And honestly, that part hurt the least. It was the weirdest and most socially awkward; but not so painful. This was a welcome change considering the black wax that I was sure had taken my vagina with it.
Afterwards, she left so I could dress and as I attempted to sit up; my butt stuck to the paper on the table. Great, leftovers. I cleaned what I could clean off with the wipe, and carefully got dressed. I was numb, but it was already very tender, almost like a sunburn, which made getting dressed difficult.
As I left, I wondered if this was a good idea. She said it would be tender and irritated that day and maybe the next; but that it would be alright after that.
The next day I woke up to a fire on my vagina. The whole area hurt, and I could barely bend a leg. Even if the comforter grazed the area, I was wincing in pain. I, walking much like a cowboy just getting off of his horse after riding for three days straight, approached the bathroom mirror with caution - dreading what I might find.
Turns out, my dread was not unfounded. My whole area looked like ground beef, spread out thinly. It was bright red, with little red bumps, and some obviously inflamed hair follicles turning white. It was awful and so so so painful. I wanted to cry. This was not what I had imagined Adam coming home to. I managed to get through a shower, flinching and, on occasion, taking up a fetal position whenever the water hit the area.
All day, I was reminded of my vanity whenever I squatted down to get something, or leaned against a table (which happen to be just the right height). The actual gyna area, where the dreaded black wax had been, was fine. Weird. But, still you couldn't pay me enough to have let her use that the whole time.
I figured that it was just the next day, and that things would calm down by Wednesday. Not so. Because of the excess wax that I'd had to remove myself in the back area, I ended up with hemorrhoids. This was totally my waxing nightmare. Perhaps, I'm just destined to be au natural.
So I called the salon and explained everything, and the manager was extremely apologetic and insisted that she'd have the more experienced esthetician call me later in the day. Well, she called and they offered me an aveda cream to help with the skin. They also credited my account so that I could use the money I spent on the wax on my next visit for hair or whatever. That made me feel better, that I didn't actually spend money to look like regurgitated spaghetti.
Either way, it's something I would never do again. No matter how much Adam may like it. The way things are, I think he may prefer pre-wax wife to PTSDpubicarea wife.
I went in and waited for the woman who was to sadistically rip all the hair out of the most tender region of my body for the next hour, and was so nervous I was in a cold sweat (which was probably not good, considering what I was about to have done) and couldn't stop my one leg from dancing up and down despite it's stationary position under the other leg. Finally, she arrived and ushered me to the room. It was a really nice salon, with a full service spa; so I wasn't surprised by the dimish lighting and enya-esque music playing as we entered the room that was almost identical to their massage rooms (save for the extraordinarily messy crock pots of molten wax on the counter).
On top of the "massage" table (how ironic) was a hand towel and one of those portable clean-your-gyna wipes in a packet. She instructed me to get nakie and drape the (tiny) towel over my nether regions. After she left, I did as she said and not sure if I should cleanse before or after, I held onto the packet and awaited her return.
She never said anything about the cleansing packet that I had clenched in my hand, but she moved the towel aside and told me to bring my right leg up so my foot rested on the inside of my left knee. Like I had a lil captain in me. lol
I did, awkwardly and nervously. And to be totally frank, the part that made me the most nervous was that I am usually pretty...anyway, too much detail. But women probably know what I mean. I am sure she's not new at this. So she gets started and we are chatting about nothings. The first strip was in the crook of my leg and bikini area. It hurt, but not too bad. The next one was where it really counted, where, if she stopped; I'd be missing a patch. That one hurt. She said most people thought that the top area hurt more than the lower, more delicate area. I was shocked, thinking it was the other way around. Well, it did hurt; for about 20 seconds it was agony. The most painful part was the anticipation. She'd paint on the wax, not so bad. Warm, and sometimes it pulled the hairs a bit. But then she'd take the fabric and press it onto the wax, ever so gently....oh the anticipation killed me. Then it was Rrrrrrrrrrrrripppppppp!!!!
Off came my hair, probably some skin....it was awful. Then it was slightly numb and slightly throbbing all at once. When she got out this stick covered in black wax, I got nervous.
She said it was a special wax that had to dry. wtf??? She pulled on, you know, and applied it to the outside of them. It dried, with the fabric on it, and then she flicked it. I thought I would die. She said you had to flick it to get it loose enough to pull off. Then she yanked. I freaked! It was horrible. It felt like she was ripping my gyna lips right off. I flinched so badly I was almost sitting up. I endured two more of these before telling her to forget the last one and that I could do a bit of self-maintenance.
And so it went on, her ripping out my hair; me attempting not to cry every thirty seconds. We made more awkward small talk, mostly because when my mind was somewhere else I wouldn't anticipate the pulling off part as much, which made it hurt a little less.
Nonetheless, it was agony. Then came the weird part. Then came...the back part. Without going into too much detail, picture that scene in Sex and the City where Carrie gets a wax from that crazy german lady and she takes it all. Carrie, in the scene, is laying there with her leg straight up in the air, holding onto it. That was me. And honestly, that part hurt the least. It was the weirdest and most socially awkward; but not so painful. This was a welcome change considering the black wax that I was sure had taken my vagina with it.
Afterwards, she left so I could dress and as I attempted to sit up; my butt stuck to the paper on the table. Great, leftovers. I cleaned what I could clean off with the wipe, and carefully got dressed. I was numb, but it was already very tender, almost like a sunburn, which made getting dressed difficult.
As I left, I wondered if this was a good idea. She said it would be tender and irritated that day and maybe the next; but that it would be alright after that.
The next day I woke up to a fire on my vagina. The whole area hurt, and I could barely bend a leg. Even if the comforter grazed the area, I was wincing in pain. I, walking much like a cowboy just getting off of his horse after riding for three days straight, approached the bathroom mirror with caution - dreading what I might find.
Turns out, my dread was not unfounded. My whole area looked like ground beef, spread out thinly. It was bright red, with little red bumps, and some obviously inflamed hair follicles turning white. It was awful and so so so painful. I wanted to cry. This was not what I had imagined Adam coming home to. I managed to get through a shower, flinching and, on occasion, taking up a fetal position whenever the water hit the area.
All day, I was reminded of my vanity whenever I squatted down to get something, or leaned against a table (which happen to be just the right height). The actual gyna area, where the dreaded black wax had been, was fine. Weird. But, still you couldn't pay me enough to have let her use that the whole time.
I figured that it was just the next day, and that things would calm down by Wednesday. Not so. Because of the excess wax that I'd had to remove myself in the back area, I ended up with hemorrhoids. This was totally my waxing nightmare. Perhaps, I'm just destined to be au natural.
So I called the salon and explained everything, and the manager was extremely apologetic and insisted that she'd have the more experienced esthetician call me later in the day. Well, she called and they offered me an aveda cream to help with the skin. They also credited my account so that I could use the money I spent on the wax on my next visit for hair or whatever. That made me feel better, that I didn't actually spend money to look like regurgitated spaghetti.
Either way, it's something I would never do again. No matter how much Adam may like it. The way things are, I think he may prefer pre-wax wife to PTSDpubicarea wife.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
31Jan2010
So I avoided posting yesterday, because I knew it would be super negative and frustrated. This weekend has...been a challenge...This weekend has given me several opportunities to hone my patience...This weekend, I failed to do so in more cases than not. Poor Taylor. She hasn't really done anything other than be a curious, active, inquisitive toddler; but let me tell you!
Today, for example; as I am trying to make parmesan crusted chicken for dinner, she reaches up onto the counter and pulls the bowl of beaten egg down and spills the entire thing on the floor. I lost it. Needless to say, she sat for a few minutes in time out with a drop of egg on her face (lol for more reasons than one) while I cleaned it up. I yelled louder than I ever have, and scared her half to death the poor thing. It must have been comical and sad all at once -me yelling and screaming, trying to tell her why I am yelling and screaming - and her crying and running away because I am scary. I really was like, yelling the explanation of her time out; which I ususally say in an even toned voice, so I'm sure it had no effect. And here I am going, "do you understand? do you understand what I'm telling you?" Of course she doesn't.
I wasn't proud. I was ashamed and regretful. But, what if it was something really hot? She would have burned herself badly. Hopefully, I've scared the curiosity about the kitchen counter out of her. But, unfortunately, I don't want to scare her. I want to teach her. I think I am just on edge about Adam coming home. I want the house to be right, and everything to be ready. I want to be prepared and think of everything he might need or want. I am totally obsessing and stressing out. Tomorrow, after I visit Brazil for a painful, agonizing hour or so....I will stop stressing. I will be excited, and ready and happy and having a wonderful day with my beautiful, curious, willful, wonderful toddler.
Today, for example; as I am trying to make parmesan crusted chicken for dinner, she reaches up onto the counter and pulls the bowl of beaten egg down and spills the entire thing on the floor. I lost it. Needless to say, she sat for a few minutes in time out with a drop of egg on her face (lol for more reasons than one) while I cleaned it up. I yelled louder than I ever have, and scared her half to death the poor thing. It must have been comical and sad all at once -me yelling and screaming, trying to tell her why I am yelling and screaming - and her crying and running away because I am scary. I really was like, yelling the explanation of her time out; which I ususally say in an even toned voice, so I'm sure it had no effect. And here I am going, "do you understand? do you understand what I'm telling you?" Of course she doesn't.
I wasn't proud. I was ashamed and regretful. But, what if it was something really hot? She would have burned herself badly. Hopefully, I've scared the curiosity about the kitchen counter out of her. But, unfortunately, I don't want to scare her. I want to teach her. I think I am just on edge about Adam coming home. I want the house to be right, and everything to be ready. I want to be prepared and think of everything he might need or want. I am totally obsessing and stressing out. Tomorrow, after I visit Brazil for a painful, agonizing hour or so....I will stop stressing. I will be excited, and ready and happy and having a wonderful day with my beautiful, curious, willful, wonderful toddler.
Friday, January 29, 2010
29Jan2010
2010. Sounds like some sort of sci-fi movie. Weird. What else is weird? That I am almost thirty and truly feel like I am getting close to being totally comfy in my own skin, but am not quite there. I've been thinking a lot about what makes me me. Who am I? What am I like to others? How do I treat other people? How do they perceive me? How do I want to be perceived? The answers to these questions have definitely evolved over the last ten years. Ten years ago, I didn't (pardon the crudeness, but it's probably the actual words that left my mouth then) give a fuck. I think I wanted to be a little bit on the outside. I wanted to be just a little different from everyone else. I was better, somehow. I had it made. I knew all the answers.
Everyone is now laughing and shaking their heads. Why? Because we all know now. I didn't (and none of us did) know a damn thing about a damn thing. I feel as though "me" is a constantly evolving and changing thing. I feel like "me" is something that will never cease to be a work in progress. "me" will always want to right my wrongs. "me" is currently working to learn what those really are. As in my recent blog, I've suddenly realized how obsessive I can be about things. It doesn't end with short lived hobbies, either. If something goes wrong, I obsess about it until I have figured out whatever truth I want to figure out. If the answer is not the answer I want, I work and think and manipulate until I can get it to be what I want, until I have righted whatever perceived wrong or injustice I see.
Writing this now, I almost feel like I shouldn't post it. Am I giving away secrets? Am I being too up front and honest? Will I be...shudder...vulnerable now? Who knows. I know it sounds worse than it is. I don't want to manipulate to hurt others. But, perhaps, the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions. Perhaps, admitting my own vulnerability - being honest with me and everyone - about who I am will help me to grow into who I want to be.
Everyone is now laughing and shaking their heads. Why? Because we all know now. I didn't (and none of us did) know a damn thing about a damn thing. I feel as though "me" is a constantly evolving and changing thing. I feel like "me" is something that will never cease to be a work in progress. "me" will always want to right my wrongs. "me" is currently working to learn what those really are. As in my recent blog, I've suddenly realized how obsessive I can be about things. It doesn't end with short lived hobbies, either. If something goes wrong, I obsess about it until I have figured out whatever truth I want to figure out. If the answer is not the answer I want, I work and think and manipulate until I can get it to be what I want, until I have righted whatever perceived wrong or injustice I see.
Writing this now, I almost feel like I shouldn't post it. Am I giving away secrets? Am I being too up front and honest? Will I be...shudder...vulnerable now? Who knows. I know it sounds worse than it is. I don't want to manipulate to hurt others. But, perhaps, the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions. Perhaps, admitting my own vulnerability - being honest with me and everyone - about who I am will help me to grow into who I want to be.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
28Jan2010
Ah, rainy grey paradise washington. Actually, when you least expect it Washington catches you and holds you captive by its beauty. I was taking taylor out of the car, and as we whipped around to search (in vain) for the moon, I saw this beautiful grey mist shrouding these giant strong looking evergreens. It was gorgeous. In an appreciation-for-grey-misty-weather kind of way. But, goreous nonetheless.
So I've been reading up on facebook statuses of people I "used" to know. It occurs to me, some of them are pretty cool now. Some of their statuses catch me off guard on a regular basis and I find myself wishing I had gotten to know people better back in the day. I've always been a horrible keeper-in-toucher; not sure why, but I am. I'd like to be better at it, and thank goodness technology allows me this without any actual contact. lol. I can email, text, facebook message, blog. When the time difference takes its toll on communication, I am thankful for the technology allowing me to keep in touch...sort of. It seems totally impersonal, but also exciting because of the newness of it. Weird.
I've also decided that I am obsessive. I need something to obsess about constantly. Right now, it's finding the right purse. I think I've narrowed it down to a few, but I am literally looking daily. Online, in stores, at everyone else's bag. You'd think I was buying a house. I'm not even planning on spending more than $100. LOL. OBSESSIVE. Various previous obsessions come to mind. Scrapbooking, baking (still enjoy that, but my waistline does now), the Sopranos, my hair, matching Taylor's socks and bib to her outfits, SimCity....I'm sure I could go on. But, if I think really hard...it goes way back! I had an obsession with the color blue during senior week in Ocean City that involved nails, bracelets, my polo sport messenger bag (lol). Ok, now I may be taking it a little too far; but that previous revelation just prompted me to search for "ralph lauren bag" on google. I found the blue one I used to have on ebay. Plus, I found a really great weekender bag for cheap, which brings to mind another ongoing obsession...Ralph Lauren. Argh. Well, I guess I could be worse. I could be buying things. I could be obsessed with cleaning and freak out when someone messes up the lines I've vacuumed into the carpet.
So I've been reading up on facebook statuses of people I "used" to know. It occurs to me, some of them are pretty cool now. Some of their statuses catch me off guard on a regular basis and I find myself wishing I had gotten to know people better back in the day. I've always been a horrible keeper-in-toucher; not sure why, but I am. I'd like to be better at it, and thank goodness technology allows me this without any actual contact. lol. I can email, text, facebook message, blog. When the time difference takes its toll on communication, I am thankful for the technology allowing me to keep in touch...sort of. It seems totally impersonal, but also exciting because of the newness of it. Weird.
I've also decided that I am obsessive. I need something to obsess about constantly. Right now, it's finding the right purse. I think I've narrowed it down to a few, but I am literally looking daily. Online, in stores, at everyone else's bag. You'd think I was buying a house. I'm not even planning on spending more than $100. LOL. OBSESSIVE. Various previous obsessions come to mind. Scrapbooking, baking (still enjoy that, but my waistline does now), the Sopranos, my hair, matching Taylor's socks and bib to her outfits, SimCity....I'm sure I could go on. But, if I think really hard...it goes way back! I had an obsession with the color blue during senior week in Ocean City that involved nails, bracelets, my polo sport messenger bag (lol). Ok, now I may be taking it a little too far; but that previous revelation just prompted me to search for "ralph lauren bag" on google. I found the blue one I used to have on ebay. Plus, I found a really great weekender bag for cheap, which brings to mind another ongoing obsession...Ralph Lauren. Argh. Well, I guess I could be worse. I could be buying things. I could be obsessed with cleaning and freak out when someone messes up the lines I've vacuumed into the carpet.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
27Jan2010
Ok, ok so I've lost track of the number of days. But, something inside me is shouting "SO WHAT! HE COMES HOME IN....DAYS!" Something inside me is excited. Something inside me told myself to schedule a brazillian bikini wax. WTF was something inside me thinking??? I've never had one, and I am terrified. But, I am also hoping that the results are worth the excruciating agony of hairs being ripped from my most sensitive regions. And by results, well... I may not be talking about the smoothness of my skin.
I apologize for the TMI to begin with, but honestly; I feel like it's something that is really at the forefront of my mind and therefore, my blog. Also at the forefront of my mind is how ridiculously bipolar I was feeling at work today. I find myself reacting quickly, angrily, unneccesarily. Probably a biproduct of self-induced forced endless patience every other second of the day. I mean, when your toddler is insistent on being held while you cook dinner, then eats your spaghetti and not theirs while simultaneously eating yogurt (which, of course, both inevitably become spag-gurt or yo-ghetti); you tend to just have to sigh and let it go. Sometimes, though, all those sighs get bottled up and get let go somewhere else, somewhere they don't belong. I didn't lose it on anyone in particular; but I found my patience tested and I acheived... an epic fail. Patience has, lately, not been a virtue that I have had while at work. And, I am fully aware, this is not something that can continue.
Alas, tomorrow is a new day, a new opportunity to be patient. Tomorrow is an opportunity to be a better me. And I think I will take tomorrow up on that offer.
I apologize for the TMI to begin with, but honestly; I feel like it's something that is really at the forefront of my mind and therefore, my blog. Also at the forefront of my mind is how ridiculously bipolar I was feeling at work today. I find myself reacting quickly, angrily, unneccesarily. Probably a biproduct of self-induced forced endless patience every other second of the day. I mean, when your toddler is insistent on being held while you cook dinner, then eats your spaghetti and not theirs while simultaneously eating yogurt (which, of course, both inevitably become spag-gurt or yo-ghetti); you tend to just have to sigh and let it go. Sometimes, though, all those sighs get bottled up and get let go somewhere else, somewhere they don't belong. I didn't lose it on anyone in particular; but I found my patience tested and I acheived... an epic fail. Patience has, lately, not been a virtue that I have had while at work. And, I am fully aware, this is not something that can continue.
Alas, tomorrow is a new day, a new opportunity to be patient. Tomorrow is an opportunity to be a better me. And I think I will take tomorrow up on that offer.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
26Jan2010
So Adam has gotten his leave dates, and they are.....so soon! I'm really excited and also really nervous. I feel like I have really put a lot of effort into building myself up and being self-sufficient and independent and it's been tough. So I'm scared that I will go off the deep end of neediness or worse, need nothing. I'm sure it won't be so bad, but I know having him leave again will be. Especially when he meets Taylor all over again. She's totally different than when he left. She can communicate just about everything that she needs or wants, verbally or by also pointing and attempting to verbalize.
She cracks me up because she likes to sing...like her mommy I might add. She sings the clean-up song, but only gets "everybody" out; which totally sounds like apeebobee. It's hilarious and so cute. She sings itsy bitsy spider, but only "out come sun". She is obsessed with the moon and looks for it constantly. Today, she had miso soup for the first time and loved it. She was even attempting, somewhat successfully (if like 1cc of soup per spoonful is successful) to feed herself the broth. She wasn't a fan of the tofu bits in the soup, but who is really?
Something that did shock me...she had no clue that I dyed my hair. She had a total non-reaction. Nothing. I expected tears, screaming and running away scared. Nope. She had no clue. I still get surprised by the mirror, but she carried on as though nothing had changed. I guess that's better, but still I was almost like "hey!" like she should have noticed. lol
She's also recently found her j-eye-na (as we call it) and insists on grabbing it and pulling on it every time I change her diaper. But she's so rough, as though it's itchy. It makes me nervous like she's going to hurt it! She points to it and says "hot". The humor just reaches so many different levels on that, that I don't even know which joke to use.
She cracks me up because she likes to sing...like her mommy I might add. She sings the clean-up song, but only gets "everybody" out; which totally sounds like apeebobee. It's hilarious and so cute. She sings itsy bitsy spider, but only "out come sun". She is obsessed with the moon and looks for it constantly. Today, she had miso soup for the first time and loved it. She was even attempting, somewhat successfully (if like 1cc of soup per spoonful is successful) to feed herself the broth. She wasn't a fan of the tofu bits in the soup, but who is really?
Something that did shock me...she had no clue that I dyed my hair. She had a total non-reaction. Nothing. I expected tears, screaming and running away scared. Nope. She had no clue. I still get surprised by the mirror, but she carried on as though nothing had changed. I guess that's better, but still I was almost like "hey!" like she should have noticed. lol
She's also recently found her j-eye-na (as we call it) and insists on grabbing it and pulling on it every time I change her diaper. But she's so rough, as though it's itchy. It makes me nervous like she's going to hurt it! She points to it and says "hot". The humor just reaches so many different levels on that, that I don't even know which joke to use.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
14Jan2010
So, after Susan told me that she was reading and catching up on my blog, I thought I'd better keep it up. I stopped because of the holiday craziness and also because I didn't really think anyone was reading it.
After putting Taylor to bed tonight, I went looking through my pictures in order to find a specific one of me that I liked my hair in (to show the stylist). Wow, what a long strange trip it truly has been. I found a "scrapbook" of pictures that included sections entitled "gratuitous alcohol shots" "hfstival 1999" "rob's keg party august 14, 1999" wow. It was amazing to look back on where I've been, who I've been with, and how skinny Sabrina really was. Damn, woman. She looks better now, though.
Anyway, for the first time tonight, too, the nostalgia didn't fill me with feelings of wishing I could be young again. I thought, wow, what idiots we all were. Running in and around, through each other's lives with wreckless abandon and little thought about each other at all. I found pictures of myself with people I don't remember the names of, people I don't want to remember the names of, and people that I truly wonder what they are upto now.
Well, if I'm to make any more new memories to be embarrassed of, I'd better get on with things. Goodnight, all.
After putting Taylor to bed tonight, I went looking through my pictures in order to find a specific one of me that I liked my hair in (to show the stylist). Wow, what a long strange trip it truly has been. I found a "scrapbook" of pictures that included sections entitled "gratuitous alcohol shots" "hfstival 1999" "rob's keg party august 14, 1999" wow. It was amazing to look back on where I've been, who I've been with, and how skinny Sabrina really was. Damn, woman. She looks better now, though.
Anyway, for the first time tonight, too, the nostalgia didn't fill me with feelings of wishing I could be young again. I thought, wow, what idiots we all were. Running in and around, through each other's lives with wreckless abandon and little thought about each other at all. I found pictures of myself with people I don't remember the names of, people I don't want to remember the names of, and people that I truly wonder what they are upto now.
Well, if I'm to make any more new memories to be embarrassed of, I'd better get on with things. Goodnight, all.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
3Jan2010 - Day 149
The first post of the new year...ahhh. Finally, the holidays are over. I loved the idea of them as they approached, loathed them as I baked and wrapped and shopped until all hours of the night (depriving myself of some much needed sleep), and look back on them with...wait, no. No nostalgia yet. But I will say, I put all the boxes in the recycling bin tonight and I have to thank everyone who took the time to send packages to us. There were a ton of boxes. It was as though we'd just moved in. It means a lot to have a family that really puts so much thought and effort into helping us to have a great christmas.
Today, I feel like I am getting better. I relaxed with Taylor throughout the morning, and showered while she was napping (like a good little efficient mommy) and then off we went to Costco (which sounds uncannily like asshole when she says it), then the commissary, then back to Safeway to get the ingredients we were missing. Somehow, I still am without fresh mint and garbanzo flour (whatever the hell that is) for my recipes for this week's dinners. I am back on track with household organization, for the most part and have mapped out (and of course, already deviated from) the meals for the next two weeks. I'm devising systems that work, and just have to learn to make myself stick to them. I like knowing what I need to do for dinner. I stress out and end up making crap for dinner all the time, or bringing something home from work (so bad for me!) if I don't have a plan. I somehow managed to get almost all of the laundry done, all the recycling and trash out to the curb, and am currently enjoying a cocktail while watching Iron Chef America. This week all of my programs come back on, and I'm really looking forward to actually having something to watch. We totally took it easy this weekend, and it was great.
My next goal is to find out where all the great local meat and produce is (without having to go downtown to Seattle to the market) and then buy there. I know that Tacoma and Olympia have farmers' markets. The produce at the commissary is really quite lacking. For Adam's trip home, I'd like to do some really special meals.
I'm feeling great about settling back into our routine, although, I am sure that I will be worn out and ready for vacation by the end of the week. I'll keep you posted.
Today, I feel like I am getting better. I relaxed with Taylor throughout the morning, and showered while she was napping (like a good little efficient mommy) and then off we went to Costco (which sounds uncannily like asshole when she says it), then the commissary, then back to Safeway to get the ingredients we were missing. Somehow, I still am without fresh mint and garbanzo flour (whatever the hell that is) for my recipes for this week's dinners. I am back on track with household organization, for the most part and have mapped out (and of course, already deviated from) the meals for the next two weeks. I'm devising systems that work, and just have to learn to make myself stick to them. I like knowing what I need to do for dinner. I stress out and end up making crap for dinner all the time, or bringing something home from work (so bad for me!) if I don't have a plan. I somehow managed to get almost all of the laundry done, all the recycling and trash out to the curb, and am currently enjoying a cocktail while watching Iron Chef America. This week all of my programs come back on, and I'm really looking forward to actually having something to watch. We totally took it easy this weekend, and it was great.
My next goal is to find out where all the great local meat and produce is (without having to go downtown to Seattle to the market) and then buy there. I know that Tacoma and Olympia have farmers' markets. The produce at the commissary is really quite lacking. For Adam's trip home, I'd like to do some really special meals.
I'm feeling great about settling back into our routine, although, I am sure that I will be worn out and ready for vacation by the end of the week. I'll keep you posted.
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