Tuesday, June 28, 2011

I didn't even eat anything weird before bed

I just remembered the craziest dream! And it's related to my post from yesterday.

I dreamed I had to go to court. I was going to represent some dude in a custody hearing. Somehow I knew him and he was in some sort of position of authority/was an old friend of my dad's or something.

This was a case where two couples were friends and one of the husbands slept with the wrong wife. Oops! But even worse, the cheater husband (my client) and his wife had kids, whereas the other couple did not. I was expected to present a case that would prove the mother was not suited for custody and basically help these mean nasty cheaters complete the coup of this woman's family. There was some other detail, too, that escapes me now, that made the whole situation even more despicable.

In my dream I went to the courthouse in jeans and a tank top. I was going to ruin this woman's life and I knew it. I knew that I had to do it and that I didn't want to. I knew that I had to put on a suit. But I lent all my suits to my girlfriends with jobs! (That part is true.) Luckily I found the one suit I kept (also true) in the closet in the back of the courtroom. I spent a lot of time looking for the right shoes. Everybody watched me put them on. I stood in this courtroom and cried. I felt nothing but wrong, hate, and yuck. Everything about this is wrong. I hate this. This is wrong for me.

I did what I was (presumably) being paid to do and it was over. The egomaniac cheater husband was thrilled. My parents were thrilled. I was miserable. I took off my suit and got naked in the parking lot. Everybody freaked out. Why are you naked in the parking lot!?!?!

The End.

Weird, right? A sign from God -slash- my deep subconscious self? Hard to say. All I know is I feel better about the whole go to work/stay at home rift than I have in a week.

Monday, June 27, 2011

It's like wishing summer vacation would end

One of my besties is going back to work after four years staying at home with the kids. "Going back to work" is kind of a euphemism in this case, for "getting the eff out of Dodge." She is so ready to re-enter the rat race that she was touring the daycare centers before she even got the interviews.

All of this fills me with a sort of weird self-loathing- envy- anxiety- insecurity- stew that has led to much wringing of the hands and drinking of the alcoholic beverages. It's another example of how I don't measure up. She has passed the judgment that staying at home sucks and the right thing to do is work outside the home, so therefore I am wrong and stupid.

For a couple of days I thought about how I could make it happen. I thought about where I could go and what I could do. I thought about how good it would feel to sit at a desk and answer emails about BUSINESS, and go to meetings and wear pencil skirts and heels.

Then I remembered all that shit sucks.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

All growsed up

I sometimes forget that Marlo is destined to be a grown-up, and as such can be expected to progress forward in physical and/or mental capabilities. Or to put it another way, I sometimes forget she's not a dog.

So you will have to forgive me for how overly excited I am that she just learned I just figured out that she can walk herself from the car to the front door, or vice versa! What a mind blowing, liberating development this is.  This means no more running to the door with bags of groceries while she screams in her car seat! I'm telling you, it's the little things like this that make life so wonderful. Today she even made it all the way up the stairs by herself.

I guess it just hadn't occurred to me in any meaningful way that she was actually going to grow up - and now all of a sudden she walks places and understands English and helps me sort coupons. When I say "do you want a snack pouch?" she runs to the cupboard where we keep the snack pouches and picks one out for me to open. It blows my mind. I can only imagine what it will be like when she learns to do math problems.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

In which I perv on pregnant ladies

If you read my blog back in the days it was the baby pork chop blog, you know that my favorite part about being pregnant was the free-for-all on food. It was the first time in my adult life where it was okay to eat whatever, whenever and not worry a lick about the consequences. And so I put on 41 pounds with glee. I was actually proud of each and every weigh-in.

But yesterday at one of our save mommy's sanity  mommy and me activities, I noticed one of the other moms was pregnant. And like, way pregnant. Like, how have I not noticed this before pregnant. I hadn't noticed because she is a very stereotypical size 00 Japanese woman, but with a watermelon stuck under her shirt. Everywhere else - same old tiny! She still has a waist and everything. It is totally unreal and she probably wonders what sort of pervy psycho I am because I kept checking her out.

Honestly, I had the thought "I want to weigh three pounds and be pregnant." What if the next time I am all super healthy lady and eat whole grains and dark leafy vegetables and work out the whole time? What if instead of free for all I try to eat responsibly, like the pregnant law librarian I used to pity when I saw her eating fruit and drinking tiny cartons of milk?

Since body image during pregnancy was the theme yesterday,  I came home and (during Marlo's naptime of course) watched the Very Special episode of 16 and Pregnant with Kayla the anorexic girl. I can't even mock her for her poor decisions, seeing as the poor thing is sick and getting absolutely no support, but I really wanted to shake her. Which goes to show why I don't do social work.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

I bet you didn't realize you were in the presence of such sheer genius

Did you know they changed the scoring on the SAT? That's why that teenager laughed at you when you humblebragged your score. Now there is a writing section and the score is out of 2400 instead of 1600. I took the SAT II writing test back when it was optional and aced it, thank you very much. Got a 770. That's not a humblebrag, that's just a real brag.* It's not quite "I was head cheerleader back in the day," but it's all I got.

My poor blog is so neglected, and probably completely unsatisfactory to all (six and counting) readers. Not enough baby for some, not enough world view for others. Still again not enough tales of mommy shenanigans to make insecure moms feel better/drunkard moms feel enabled.

I have to find a new shtick, something that will force me to blog every day. Now that it has become quite obvious to me that I cannot eat as though I am still pregnant fifty-five weeks after giving birth, maybe I could blog about the carrot sticks and plain tuna I am eating for lunch. Boy, won't that be fun for everybody?

Speaking of diets, do you know that in the course of an hour yesterday I found SCIENTIFIC EVIDENCE all over the internet that each and every kind of food will eventually cause you to die horribly of cancer and/or old age? Yes, it turns out no matter what you eat you will eventually die, and there is nothing you can do to control this. Scares the shit out of people, apparently.

*I feel like I may have stolen this line from a certain someone.  Or perhaps I'm crazy. I  am sorry if I am a plagarist instead of a genius.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

On eating habits, hers and mine

Maybe there's something to that whole "put it out there in the Universe and it will happen" thing. Since I posted about wanting to get Marlo weaned, she's gone from four to five feedings a day to two. Currently, she is nursing only upon waking and at bedtime, without too much complaint. We only dropped the last midday feeding last week, and it's still a little rough getting her past that three pm snack craving. But she has turned the corner on cow's milk, giving it her resounding seal of approval, so I've been offering her some milk in a sippy cup when she gives me the urgent milk hands during the day. Banana flavored Baby Mum-Mums (aka Chinese Melamine Biscuits) are also key.

So Marlo is one now and walking and talking(ish). She had a fabulous birthday party complete with cupcakes and a taco bar. In a related story, I have eaten tacos nearly exclusively over the past five days. You would think that I would be sick of tacos by now, but you would be totally wrong. It makes me even more confident in my hypothesis that I could eat that entire 12 pack of tacos that Taco Bell keeps pushing on me, if only I hadn't given up Taco Bell two years ago.