March 31, 2009
My mom always said, careful what you wish for, it might come true. Hell, she always wanted to fly on a private plane, so we booked her an air ambulance for her last flight.
I had said that I wanted free goodies and in exchange, I’d write about them here. Someone from Gutzees took me up on my offer; I’m embarrassed to admit that this was a few months back. Since it was the only one and because I never felt the need for a purse keeper, oh and because my world has been completely rocked, I dillied and dallied before even looking at the product. My husband was complaining about the PR package that sat as a reminder in our living room.
The PurseKeeper is exactly what it sounds like, something designed to preserve your purse. There’s an adjustable cushion insert for your purse to keep it’s shape and a clear vinyl storage bag with faux leather snap closure. If you are organized or disciplined about caring for your bags, this is an ideal alternative to the cloth bags that come with purses. You can actually see your purses in the closet. However, if you are like me, tight on space and your handbags are shoved lovingly into a shoe rack, then anything that fluffs your bag up is not practical.
Because the vinyl bag has structure and is clear, it does serve a much better function of housing my lingerie, something my husband would like me to take out of the adjacent shoe rack.
The bag, which comes in three sizes, retails from around $15-$20 and can be found at Bed Bath and Beyond.
Because I am a mom, a very fortunate mom, I feel compelled to mention that company’s founders met at a benefit for people with hearing disabilities, something that affects their children. They named the company Gutzees to honor how hard their kids fight.
March 26, 2009
I’m evolving into one of those totally doting moms. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment. I know holding my newborn son how quickly he will grow and how much heavier he will be in the bjorn, so I am seizing the opportunity.
I imagine the Zoloft helps, but I am happiest when my kids are happy, ideally without Sesame Street. I still want to pass off a crying baby or a poopy diaper to my husband, but walking down the street with my 18 month old when she holds the dog leash and seeing people smile, (cliche alert) brings me such joy.
I still miss my mom greatly but now that the gut wrenching pain is gone, a new pain emerges, one that almost feels guilty for not hurting more. I know my mom would want me to immerse myself into life and not mourning. I’m trying, mom. And while I’m sure I’ve barely scratched the surface, I’m beginning to understand the joys of parenthood.
March 18, 2009
I recently went to Los Angeles for a good friend’s wedding of which I was a bridesmaid. Because we could not find someone to watch both kids, my husband stayed home to gain sympathy for what i do most days. It worked out super well in that I could fully engage myself in bridesmaid responsibilities without feeling like I was abandoning my husband and get a good nights rest and he saw his folks without me and bonded with the munchkins.
Of course during the slow songs of the wedding I wanted someone to dance with and a few times I was terribly indecisive I could have used a little guidance.
For some reason I try to look good whenever I go to LA, as if I might be discovered by some hot actor who insists I must be in his next blockbuster movie. And then because I make an effort to look good, I would like someone to notice. Of course by LA standards I am not hot, ie not rail thin, blonde or have fake breasts. I also like to use the excuse when a pair of pants at a store did not fit properly, that I just had a baby. If the sales people do not ooh and aah over my physique, then I’m less inclined to buy something. But apart from the guests commenting on the bridesmaid dresses telling us we look great, no one really noticed. Which is just as well, the day was not about me.
March 11, 2009
I know I cannot continue to live in this daze, a human floating through the motions of life, sleeping at every opportunity and trying to make it through to the next day.
Life does not wait for anyone and I fear that I am missing out on opportunities with my children. Yesterday was good. My daughter was super affectionate and funny and barely cried for Sesame Street. The Little Man took a while to fall asleep at night – my fault for letting him (and me) and doze during the day. Nobody is perfect.
My girlfriend is getting married this weekend and I’m taking a solo trip across the country to visit her. As I listen to her stress about wedding details, I realize I really do not care. As a friend, I listen, offer advice that she’ll likely ignore and be supportive. In reality, it is all so insignificant but she does not see that now. Not that I saw it when I was getting married either. I look back at my wedding and do not have warm and fuzzy feelings about my mom, surprisingly my dad and his wife were amazing.
The kids are calling…a good excuse for not a great summary.
March 7, 2009
One of those get to know me better questionnaires is circulating on Facebook and I have been reluctant to answer. But here are a few things my readers may be interested in knowing about me.
1) sometimes I am so lazy and yet so thirsty for a glass of wine I go to my selection of inexpensive wine and pick one with a screw top. Why should I bother with the rabbit when with a simple twist of the wrist I can open the bottle.
2) Sometimes, I get nervous around cute dads. We could be at the park or Gymboree and I get a little anxious when we start talking. I feel like I am back at middle school (or college, hey it was a women’s school) wondering if he is flirting with me even if I am covered in spit up or maybe I am just channelling some of the drama in Mike Perrota’s Little Children.
3) Sesame Street is one heck of a babysitter. Because I don’t have the patience or time to calm my daughter down from a tantrum, I let her hand me the remote and I watch her faced transfixed. And if you have not watched Sesame Street in some time, it is highly entertaining. Funnier than SNL.
4) When people compliment on having my figure back (at a mere 6 weeks after delivering I am four pounds heavier than my first doctor’s appointment! whoo hoo!) I joke that I adopted. Then I tell people that the stress /depression diet is effective and miserable.
5) My hygiene is not where it should be. I usually wait for my hair to channel that greasy 90s grunge look before I wash it and some nights I let gargling with Listerine substitute for brushing my teeth.
6) I started Zoloft today. a very low dose. Felt speedy than passed out in the afternoon when the kids were napping.
There’s more, but if you are still reading, I don’t want to bore you anymore.
March 2, 2009
So my little son is not perfect. Some may debate whether or not he is a good baby. Can babies really not be good? He’s a mere five weeks old so I’d have to argue that he is as close to perfect as a human being can be. Of course if he was not spewing up as much liquid as Old Faithful I might argue that he could be a little more perfect.
Today, in my quest for productivity, I’ve strapped the fussy little fellow into the baby bjorn and sat down to do some work. It works! He’s calm! But he still pukes! The latest functional accessory, at least for me on this snowy day, is a quiet baby in the bjorn and puke down each of our shirts. I just hope he is not resting too much so he does not sleep tonight. Because bags under the eye are rarely in style.
March 1, 2009
In lots of cultures new mothers are encouraged to rest for up to 40 days after giving birth, staying in bed, avoiding stairs and resting. Unfortunately, I am finding this information as my son approaches 40 days of life.
Given everything…mourning the loss of my mom, managing her estate and business, caring for two children, running my small business, etc, I have yet to begin my dieta (as they say in Spanish)
Fortunately I do not look like I just had a baby. While I do not recommend the stress/mourning/depression diet it is highly effective. Nonetheless, the empathy one receives post partum eludes me. My husband is counting down the days until my six week abstinence is over and once again our sexual appetites are out of sync.
As my mom would say, careful what you wish for, it might come true.