Sunday, December 26, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Ok, I have been held in the this "30 Days of Truth" Project because of this post in particular. I can't think of anything or anyone to write about. It's not that people don't anger or annoy me, because believe me THEY DO. And I used to hold on to all that, but then one day...I just didn't.
It made my life so much easier. And happier.
So, do I forget? Not as easily. Not in the slightest. I just can't hold on to that anger anymore, even if people don't apologize.
I have been sitting here, racking my brain for something to write about here. It turns out this is it. This is my truth. I don't hold onto that.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
"Faaaaaaaayyyyyyy zzzzzz! Mama! Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!"
We listen to it on repeat. I know all the lyrics and sometimes can appease him by singing it to him if my phone or ipod is not readily available. Sometimes he will start singing it on his own.
"My my my my Faaaaaayyyyyy zzzzzz!"
And he's got some crazy dance moves. His signature move that he made up all on his own: The Sneeze. :)
Friday, December 3, 2010
I automatically assumed there was something wrong with my credit card and I had somehow stolen gas. Or that the receipt printer was broken. I stuck it back in the pump, and it worked just fine. I finished filling up my tank. A recipt printed out just fine. I waddled (remember, I was preggers) into the service station and asked the sales clerk what had happened, apologizing prefusely for any problem I had caused, and no, I wasn't trying to steal gas, etc.
He LAUGHED at me. And he explained to me that the person who had used that pump before me had prepaid $30 in gas for the next person.
I was SPEECHLESS. Seriously. And I ALWAYS have something to say. I mean, gas was so expensive. The economy was HORRIBLE. Why would anyone do that?!
The clerk told me to have a nice day. And I did. It wasn't until a few days later that I learned about "Pay It Forward." I hadn't seen the movie. EVER. But it just happened to be on that weekend. I got it. Somehow had done that for me. So a few days later, while in the drive thru at McDs for breakfast (again, PREGGERS, don't judge), I asked to pay for the person behind me. Every now and then I will do little things like that. I will leave my change in the vending machine. I will pay for someone's Starbucks. Which is exactly what I did on Wednesday, The 2nd Annual Pay It Forward Day. I haven't been on the receiving end of a Pay It Forward action since that morning at the gas station, but that's ok.
Even if that person that benefits from you, doesn't pay it forward, you have put out a small bit of happiness, of good karma, into the universe. If you made someone smile. You did something so small, but considerate and just might have given them a bit of a better day. And maybe they made someone else's day a bit brighter because of their better mood.
The day, or the notion itself isn't about money. It's about positive energy and kindness being put into the universe, pushing out some of the bad.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
I remember being very nervous about cooking a turkey and having to buy a roasting pan and baster. I remember having to clear out our entire tiny freezer in to accomodate the turkey. I remember I didn't know how to make green bean casserole, a dish I can now make in my sleep, so I had to scour the internet for a recipe. I remember doing the same for deviled eggs...my husband has to have his deviled eggs for Thanksgiving. I remember sending him across the street to the 24hr Market that was only really open 20 hours a day for foil because I ran out and was terrified of scorching the turkey. I remember my friend from grad school bringing wine and a corkscrew, because I didn't own one at the time. I remember crowding around our teeny table (which we will use) in our teenier apartment and eating. I remember taking a walk after dinner, up the hill behind our block and taking in one of the most breath taking views of the lit up downtown SF, which we would continue to do as along as we lived there. I remember making a plate of food up and putting it out for the homeless man who was camped in the doorway of the abandoned building next to ours. I remember feeling a sense of accomplishment, that we had made it through this first major holiday on our own.
And now I will have memories of the last Thanksgiving, at least for a long while, that I will spend in California. I will elaborate more in a few days, once a few more details are hammered away, but for now that is all I will say. As I prepared for this dinner, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief that next year, I will only have to make ONE SIDEDISH and not a whole entire meal. At the same time I felt a tingle of sadness as I reflected over the 7 Thanksgiving Days I have prepared for and executed all by myself. Oddly, this past one was the only one my husband and I spent together, ourselves, with Isaac and no other guests. It was strangely quiet, but wonderfully peaceful and I will take these memories with me.
I will remember how my husband took me to see Harry Potter 7 on the eve before Thanksgiving, even though he was exhausted. I will remember how Isaac helped us baste the turkey...he stood by the oven and said "hot! hot! don't touch!" I will remember how we ate together at the table, Isaac chowing on turkey and crackers, which is all he would eat. I will remember attempting the Toys R Us Black Friday sale with my neighbor, seeing the line wrapped around the building, and hightailing it back to the warm car to shop online. I will remember Isaac gobbling and dancing around to "Poker Face." I will remember having him watch Rudolph and Mickey's Twice Upon a Christmas. I will remember falling asleep with him on my bed, taking a nice long nap. I will remember Ben and I talking about what to get our budding toddler for Christmas. I will remember Isaac Skyping with our family back in Ohio and calling them out by name. I will remember being a family, just us three.
Today is really my first day back into our normal everyday life after a wonderful, relaxing break. I hope everyone had as wonderful a Thanksgiving holiday as our family did.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
The other day, I needed to run in the store to get milk. Milk is about $2.99 a gallon. I had just picked up Isaac and thought to myself it wouldn't be worth trying to wrangle him into the cart just for milk. He could walk with me. Big mistake. BIG BIG mistake.
He did really well walking up to the dairy case. He even stood there while I opened it to get the milk out. Then he noticed the promotional red mylar balloons surrounded a table promoting a new coupon program. He is OBSESSED with balloons (among other things). I spent a good 5 minutes chasing him around the table and finally coralled him toward the express checkout lane.
This is where it got ugly.
Not only did I have to pick him up (try making a 22 month old boy stand in line patiently), but have you ever seen grocery checkout lines? Usually there are many balloons of a vast variety. Plus there were more promotion balloons. By the time I was paying for my milk, Isaac was incredibly unhappy, thrashing, and screaming. Not just screaming to be put down, but screaming for a balloon.
Sigh. So I gave in. I asked the checkout girl what the cheapest balloon was. It turns out the least expensive was the promotional red mylar, ringing in at $4.99. As soon as it was in his hands, Isaac was all smiles.
Do I condone what I did? Nope. But a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.
I learned my lesson. That galloon of milk ended up costing me over $8.00 by the time tax was figured into the cost. And I don't want Isaac to think that behaving that way is ok.
Oh, and the balloon is still floating and providing him amusement. As well as my cats.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
There is a lot in the works for the Lahman family (NO, I AM NOT PREGNANT), and I will write more soon. As soon as I can breathe again...Ok, maybe before then. Because I never catch my breath.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
I put the phone down.
I had it in my hand about 20 times that day. I stared at the keypad so many times. I dialed part of the number, the whole number sometimes, but I hung it up before it rang or before someone answered. I put it down because I knew he was mad, I knew he was upset and I didn't know what to say. I knew I couldn't say what he wanted to hear. I put it down because I was scared of the conversation and of hurting him more than I already had. And I put it down because frankly, I was tired of dealing with the situation. Period.
I put the phone down.
And the next day he was gone forever.
Would a phone call have saved him, stopped him? I don't know. But there hasn't been a day that I haven't thought about the what-ifs. There hasn't been a time that I have thought about it, really thought about it that hasn't felt like a sucker punch, that same feeling I had that time. There hasn't been a time that day didn't haunt me.
I don't know what I would have said. But I know that I would give anything to go back to that day and say something.
I put the phone down, and I am mad at myself for not making that call. No matter what the outcome. I should have made the call.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Well, let's see.
I would have to say that I love my positivity and my ability to smile.
Am I always a smiley, upbeat person? No, no way no how. But I spent too much time being unpositive and gloomy. And let's face it, that is no way to go through life. It makes life harder, and tougher. I try to focus on the good in every situation. I try to make the best of life, no matter what. Sure, I get upset and I cry. I think things play out unfairly and I would like to smack the smirks off peoples' faces. Putting energy into being upset and carrying grudges and assuming the worst just sucks the life out of me, as I imagine it does to alot of people. I don't want people to see me that way. I don't want to be the Debbie Downer. I put my energy into focusing on the good in life.
It makes life easier, being positive. It truly does. It gets you through the day just a bit easier.
Monday, October 25, 2010
I haven't been blogging. I haven't known how to say what I really wanted to say, I guess. I dont' even know what I really want to say half the time. There are many frustrations in my life right now, and I am trying to work through them. I just feel..blah... We are all fine, work is fine, just blah. In that rut, so to speak. Now onto my real post
When I went back to work and Isaac began daycare, I knew that inevitably I would miss out on the first time he did things. I was fully prepared to go back to work. I had my pumping schedule down, eating schedule, and was mentally prepared as much as I could be. I always knew that I would have to go back to work after a few months. I was always fine with that. Sure, I would miss my baby boy. But I struck a deal with Ben and Miss K.
If Isaac did anything that seemed like it was the first time he had done said action, say sit up, walk, talk, etc, they were strictly forbidden to tell me that he had performed said action. That way, when he did it for me, I would think it was the first time he had done it, and not feel the stab of guilt and longing for missing said first time action. It has worked remarkably well, and no one has ruined it.
He is too old for that deal now. He is doing things for me that he has clearly been practicing with his dad and Miss C and Miss S, that I think are incredible and am so proud and excited. And then I realize there is no way he hasn't done this before. I am missing it.
Like, he can identify numbers from 0-9. Ben holds up one of his blocks and asks him what number is written on it and he answers, correctly. I was so excited. But apparently he has been doing this awhile. Same with his letters. He gets A-F. And I am so proud, and then I realize that these are those that have been practiced and worked out. So my pride is still very valid, I am watching my boy learn and grow. That makes me deliriously happy, that he is making progress and becoming such a big boy. But the disappointment is there. The disappointment that I missed some things. That I will miss more things.
Apparently the person I should have made the deal with, was Isaac.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
And it isn't because of the trick-or-treating or costumes or candy. Those things make it semi-fun and bearable.
It's because of the amped up number of scary movies and paranormal shows.
My husband loves the ghost hunter stuff and I am forced to watch them with him. It's my penance for subjecting him to Desperate Housewives I guess. But seriously, I think he thinks Eva Longoria Parker is hot, so how is that bad for him? Anyway, I get pretty creeped out sometimes. I think of all the shows he watches, Ghost Hunters is the least abrasive. There is some freaky stuff on there. Like the face that leans over the railing in the lighthouse in Florida. FREAKY. I can only take about a weekly dose of it.
You know since it is October, that means there are MARATHONS of paranormal stuff on. And we have to watch it. There are NOT Desperate Housewives Marathons. And Teen Mom is over. So what I am supposed to do to get back at him? Yes, I know I could not watch it with him. I get it. It's my fault. But I have to spend time with him. And we have limited amounts together when Isaac is sleeping and not climbing all over us like a rabid monkey.
What I can not control is the amount of scary movies released this time of year. Like Paranormal Activity 2. Now, it is to my understanding that these movies are similar to the Blair Witch Project. Like, they are made to seem real documentaries but they are actually not. They are fiction.
I will be honest. I like scary movies sometimes. I like a good thrill every now and then. What I do not like are scary movies that are so real they could happen. And most scary movies nowadays are like that. I will admit that I am fascinated by ghosts and hauntings sometimes. I just can't take large doses. Especially when I am by myself in the house alot. And when I turn on my TV and THAT IS ALL THERE IS PLAYING....I have a problem with that.
What I do not like is the trailer for Paranormal Activity 2. Why? Because not only does it play on my fear of possession and ghosts, etc....it takes it to a whole other level.
In the trailer, there is a small boy, maybe around Isaac's age, sleeping in his crib. And then you see him drug across the crib by his feet, and pulled straight up. The next scene is the little boy standing, looking over the crib, with his pet dogs barking madly at the open door. Then you see the little boy thrown from the crib and drug out of the room by his feet. The next part is an angry looking dead woman, I mean, I assume she is, hunched in the doorway looking all possessed and whatever.
It made me want to cry and bless Isaac's room with Holy water, just in case.
And it made me angry.
I get thrills and chills this time of year. I get making spooky movies meant to scare the bejeebus out of people for entertainment purposes. But this played on a different type of fear. A FEAR THAT SOMETHING MIGHT HAPPEN TO HURT MY BABY.
And that, quite frankly, just pisses me off. IMMENSELY. As a mother, I do not find it remotely entertaining that people are trying to capitalize this fear, the fear that is instilled in them as soon as they become a mother. That fear, that divine instinct to protect your child...not for entertainment purposes.
I can tell you that if something like that EVER happened to me and my family, I would be terrified. And I would be PISSED. If anyone hurt my baby, dead or alive...WATCH OUT. Watch out ghosts who are pissed we are living in your house. I am pretty sure my anger in that case would overcome my fear of paranormal.
Same thing with aliens. But that is a whole other story.
Anyway, I can't stand that trailer. And it's on ALL THE TIME. I have to turn the channel. Or close my eyes and sing "Poker Face."
Only 17 days left in October. When does this movie come out? Hopefully after this month, they will move on to Christmas Movies. Or Harry Potter. OOOHHHH, Harry Potter. I think I just found my new happy place to go to for the damn trailers.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
So Day 1 is something you hate about yourself.
Hate is a strong word, you know? I can't say there is anything that I really HATE about myself, but there are things that I dislike, quite strongly in fact.
I think the thing about myself that I dislike the most is that I always have to be in control.
To me, being in control of my life and everything that is in it (Read: EVERYONE) means that I will always know what is going to happen. I will know the outcome. Yes, I know that is not true. I know that things will inevitably happen outside of my control. That's what makes life what it is: Life. It makes it unique. But I hate that. I feel like when I don't have control over things, it means I don't know how things will play out. And that they could play out badly. That I, or someone that I love, could get hurt. That I could lose something. I have to be in control. I just do.
I feel like this holds me back. It holds my family back. It prevents spontaneity. And it makes me insane when things happen outside my control.
It's something I am working on, something that I want to change about myself. I want to be able to relish the moment and not worry about what may happen. I don't want to spend my life in a state of worry about how to prevent myself from not being in control. I don't want to live like that. I want to be able to put trust in other people to carry out tasks that I could do without the responsibility. Little things, big things. It doesn't matter. I have to be in control. I have to be in the know, and I have to have some control. Or I become all chaotic and twirly. My husband is very patient with me, since he gets most of my control issues. He is more patient than I would be. Ooohh, patience. I lack that. That would have been a good one to write about too.
Deep down, I know that I can't control everything. I know that's impossible. But too much has happened that I haven't been able to control. And to me, if I have some control, some power over my life, maybe when those things happen, they won't destroy me again.
Monday, October 11, 2010
And then I realized that I HAVE become that person to an effect. I lost sight of what I want, who I want to be, where I want to be. I feel like my husband and I have been waiting for something to happen to us, to give our lives direction. That's not likely, right? I mean, we aren't moaning and bitching. We know we have it pretty good. We like California. We have jobs that give us benefits. We have a healthy baby (ok toddler, whatever). And it's not that we are unhappy.
But in a way, we are. We know that bottom line, we don't want to stay here forever. We want our kids to have a yard. We want a house. We want alot of things that aren't impossible to get in this area, but will be harder to obtain. So we have kinda been putting our feelers out there to see what could happen. And nothing has. Because we are waiting for it to happen, and we aren't MAKING it happen. We are waiting for something to point us in the direction.
How do you make something happen when you don't know what you want? We have become complacent and I can admit that. We are happily unhappy. We are living day to day and not thinking about the future in the way we should be thinking. We are waiting for a push and somehow that led us to complacency. We have started to become people who wait for life to happen. And we don't want that.
What are the next steps? How to fix this? What is broken that requires the fixing? WHAT DO WE WANT?
I don't like that I have become this way, truly. I know alot in our lives has changed. We are definately different people than we used to be, as we should be. Experiences have changed us, made us wiser. We know that there are certain ways NOT to do things and obtain what we want. And we know that some of the things we thought we wanted, in fact, are just not right for us. Maybe some of the thing we had previously disregarded are now right for us, for our future.
Bottom line is that we need to figure out what we want. As individuals, and as a family. And then figure out how to make it a reality.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
This week is going to be a stretch. I made a list of potential meals, and some of them are creative. We shall see how it goes. :)
Friday, October 1, 2010
I am always reluctant to stay home from work. Not because of work itself, but because I don't ever get a day off. I mean, unless I take the kiddo to daycare. And that just makes me feel guilty, like I am at home, not making money, and paying for someone else to watch him. Anyhoo, I knew that I had to stay home Monday. I needed to sleep, and Ben would be home for Daddy Daycare. So when he got home on Sunday, I was laying pitifully on the couch, mind you in a CLEAN HOUSE.
"If I stay home from work tomorrow to rest and get better, you will still watch the baby, right?"
"Are you sure? Like, it won't be like when I was in the emergency room last year and supped up on painkillers and I had to stay home and rest on Dr's orders and somehow you thought that meant you needed to take a nap and I needed to make dinner while watching the kid?"
And in all fairness, it was not a repeat performance. However, I still felt the need to do chores and such, because again, Mommies can't really get sick. And how do I explain to my 20 month old son that he can't come play with Mommy when she is home?
Which explains another reason Mommies can't get sick.
When Mommy gets sick, Isaac gets sick. Which he did.
It breaks my heart when he is sick, because he just lays there on the couch, on Bunny Buddy, all droopy eyed and quiet. The past two days have been better, no fevers. And today he is back at daycare, and apparently fine.
Sigh. It's been a long week. Because Mommies can't sick. They fall behind, one way or another.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Anyway, I know this about myself. I don't have it in me to be a teacher, let alone a GREAT one like some of the ones that I have had throughout my education. Seriously, I have had some amazing teachers. And when you are in grade school (My third grade teacher was PHENOMENAL, my favorite to this day), you don't think about the sacrifices those teachers are making for you. I grew up in a small town. My graduating class was like 129. We had drive your tractor to school day (SERIOUSLY) and got out for junior fair day. But still, I had teachers that cared enough to make a difference and impacted my life in such a way that I went on to follow my dreams and to think that I can and will achieve them. My HS biology teacher gave me this profound love of science that still burns within and my math teacher made it FUN AND UNDERSTANDABLE. I still use my high school calculus notes. In college, my favorite professor CHANGED MY WAY OF THINKING. He made me into a scientist.
Anyway, I had the honor to be exposed to these wonderful teachers. And throughout my life, I have had the honor to get to know other teachers, who just happen to be my friends.
And let me tell you, I love my friends. And I hate hearing that they are treated poorly, or struggling. Especially when they are doing something for other people, like TEACHING. Of all my friends, I would have to say that my teacher friends, no matter what grade level, make the least amount of money, work the hardest, and get the least gratitude in their positions.
I get that some professions deserve to be high paid. Like doctors. I see no reason why a brain surgeon who saves lives day in and day out shouldn't make a high amount of money. But an actress? Or professional athlete? Give me a break. Don't get me wrong, I like movies as much as the next person. And TV. And I have been known to watch some professional sports. Bit let me be frank in saying in no way, now how do those people deserve to make more money than the people who educate and shape our children. No. Way. In my opinion, they are saving lives in their own way, just like the aforementioned brain surgeon, in their own way.
Ihear the struggles my friends have. And while on my recent trip back east, I saw the struggles of one friend who teaches science to high school students in a not so nice neighborhood. How she does it, I do not know. I can't fathom. The hours she puts in, the time. The time away from her family and friends, away from her home. The money that comes from her own pocket. The energy, oh THE ENERGY she has to muster. I couldn't do it. Flat out, I could not do it. I saw first hand what she deals with on a day-to-day basis. I just couldn't.
So even though I am not a teacher, I hold them near and dear. And I hope there are some drastic changes to the educational system before my children are immersed in it. A MILLION THANKS GO OUT TO EVERY TEACHER THAT I KNOW, THAT HAVE SHAPED MY LIFE.
***This post was written after reading the letter posted by several friends, also teachers, who deserve mass props.***
Friday, September 24, 2010
Isaac likes swings again! We discovered a new park, where ducks swim semi-free in an enclosed pond that also contains mutant koi. Whew, the "IHATESWINGSGETMEOUTOFTHISTHINGRIGHTNOWORIWILLSCREAMANDSCREAMANDMAYBEEVENBITEYOU" phase is over, seemingly. And he is so over the little play structures that are age appropriate. He wants to be on the big kid ones. And we, uh...kinda let him. He's an adventurous, fearless little boy. The way this kid climbs, you would like he was part monkey. We follow him and make sure he isn't leaping off things. He pretty much just wants to climb and go down the big slides. He knows to sit down at the top and not lean over the side. He makes it sound as though the climbing is alot of effort because with every single step, we usually get an exertionous grunt (is that a word, hmmmm I hope so). We don't let him go on said structures if there are big kids who actually belong on the big equipment there, and I wouldn't get pissed (assumably) if he injured (knock on wood) himself on them because I let him on there. I TAKE FULL RESPONSIBILITY HERE!
Speaking of the little man (still my baby boy), he has developed an affinity for Lady Gaga and Glee. TRUE STORY. He is partial to "Bad Romance" but he will also sing along to "Telephone." I think it's adorable that he will sing "el-o, el-o bay-be" and I am pretty sure he likes the singing on Glee.
And he counts to 10! He can get to 6 unassisted, and needs a bit of coaxing past 7 and 8, but definately gets the 9, 10. :)
So, the 3 week great stash reduction of 2010...I am happy to say that I have only spent $7.48 of my $10 budget. And to be honest $2.50 was on accident. I am so accustomed to impulse buying, that last weekend at Target, I threw 100-calorie cupcakes into the cart without even thinking about it. I didn't even realize I had bought a grocery until I got home. Anyway, Other than that, I have only bought milk for me and Isaac. I have used several canned goods, two boxes of pasta, and several things from the freezer. We have had fried chicken, spaghetti and meatballs, turkey chili, potato crunch fish, pizza, and mac and cheese. And to be honest, I am not seeing any dent made in the stash. Maybe because it is the first week? Or maybe because I just have THAT MUCH STUFF.
There are several professional opportunities looming on the horizon for me and hubs. Hopefully (fingers crossed, please please PUH-LEASE), something will pan out successfully for one of us, providing us with the opportunity for change. We are feeling a bit stuck right now. Like, that inbetween phase, where you know you have to move forward, but you need that little kick start in that direction.
No more decision has been made on whether or not the IUD is actually coming out in November either. :( Much trepidation though. I think it depends on how the aforementioned pans out.
Tomorrow we are going to the SF Zoo, with a friend and her two kids that I haven't seen in AGES. I haven't seen her son since he was an itty bitty baby, and I have never met her daughter, nor has she met Isaac. I am deliriously excited.
Ok, that is seriously all I have now. I am suffering serious writer's block. Hopefully it will vanish soon. I apologize. :(
Friday, September 17, 2010
My current grocery budget is about $75-$100 a week, putting us between $300 and $400 per month. For a family of 3, that includes a toddler. Granted, my husband eats alot. And so does my toddler. And sometimes we are feeding my BIL and various other people, and we take leftovers for lunch so we don't waste a whole lot of food.
Or do we?
Here is my challenge. For the next 3 weeks, I am only alloted a grocery budget of $10 per week. This should buy fresh milk and produce and possibly bread for lunches if needed. For all other food, I have to use up what I have in the house. It's time to deplete the stash.
This should not be too hard, in all honesty. But I am really nervous about it. BECAUSE I AM A PACK RAT! I HAVE A DISEASE, PEOPLE!
This was sparked yesterday evening when I went to the store for crescent rolls and grapes and came out $50 later. Upon putting things away, I realized I already had most of the items I had just purchased or something very similar. The challenge starts today, and I don't get my $10 budget until Monday since I already went shopping. I should need milk by then, so that's my $ date. I have to get through until at least October 8th.
So here we go! On tonight's menu: Oven fried chicken, southwestern hashbrowns and leftover veggies.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
Last week, while on vacation, I drove to Virginia to see one of my college roomies, Kelly. I drove all day on Tuesday and then all day Thursday to come home. The trip was fantastic, albeit too short, but the activities themselves are not the point of this post and what I refer to. It was the trip there.
I used our GPS Garmin thingie. Lord, what on earth did we ever do without these navigation systems (oh, right...the trip tix)? How did we find our way anywhere? I hardly remember what life was like without these marvelous little GPS satelites recalculated my route. Merely plug in your destination address, and viola! I have a perfectly mapped route, getting me there in a timely fashion. It even tells me if there is traffic backing up the roads. I needed a starbucks fix in the middle of my trip and it found me one! If I got lost or made a wrong turn or missed my exit because I was singing Lady Gaga at the top of my lungs (totally hypothetical), it easily got me back on course. With the aid of little Garmin, once again a long voyage was made easy from point A to point B with few to no snafus.
And while in the car, I had a lot of time to think. You know what would be nice? A little life Garmin. Like say for instance, I want Job A and to live in City B while having Child C and volunteering at Organization D with Accomplishments and Certifications E,F, and G. I type it in and it tells me the easiest way to get there and how long it will take. It maps the journey for me. And if I get thrown off course, it will tell me how to get back on track. If I want to take a little detour, I can plug that in as well, and it will recalculate for me.
I would even settle for Life Trip Tix from AAA.
My vacation gave me alot to think about. Now, I just have to figure out how to get there. And I have to do it on my own, no GPS.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Occasionally, Isaac sings. He will fill in the EIEIO of me singing "Isaac Lahman Has a Farm" and anythign that has one-word type lines, like "Hey Soul Sister" 's Ay Ay, AY yay ay yay yay, and "Buffalo Solider" 's Oye yoy yoy. However, on the trip to GG Park to see the aunties, he recently busted out "we're rough!" in NKOTB's "Hangin' Tough" (dont' judge. You know that still sing it too) as we were rocking out in the car. It was ADORABLE as it came out "we ruuuuuuuuttttt!" with a huge smile and gigles. We are working on the Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh arm waving.
The other night, Isaac continued to demonstrate his passion for vocals and a career as a mega idol. We were sitting on the couch, enjoying pre-bedtime milk and looking at books. I was finishing up the last 15 minutes of "Glee" which I had ashamedly fallen asleep during. During "Total Eclipse of the Heart," Isaac starts to full on belt out nonsensical words and swaying back and forth on the couch.
He sang for the 3 minute duration of the song. I have no idea what he was singing, but it was hilarious.
My heart swelled as my baby, ok, my TODDLER, broke into a new milestones, demostrating his love of music. Now I try to get him to sing all the time, which of course he bashfully laughs and runs away. I will catch it on video and send it immediately to Sony or at least Ryan Seacrest because this type of talent should not be ignored. :)
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Yep, Isaac will be attending his first county fair, complete with fainting goats, elephant ears, sno cones, and that game where you pick up a duck and win a prize. I am sure he will love that game, and we will return to California with about $20 worth of cheapie sunglasses, necklaces, and bouncy balls. He gets to spend hours upon hours being spoiled rotten by his grandparents and uncles, and meeting new friends. He gets to play with Cissy and Norton. He gets to play with his great-grandparents.
I get to see high school friends that I haven't seen in YEARS, see my college roommate's new house, new puppy, and Lady Gaga (that's right, I said it), and eat delicious ice cream from Jeni's with my roommate from Spain. I get to (hopefully) meet my bloggy idol who also hails from the magical midwestern motherland and went to a high school one town over (um...so sorry about those paitned chickens in your hall during senior year homecoming....). And do the above mentioned with Isaac. I am leaving him with my parents and probably boatloads of sugar, and driving to Virginia to see K. This is a total Mommy-vacation. I can't help my babysitters live in Ohio.
And let me tell you, I need the break. I need the mental relief. I paid all the bills due next week. I stocked the fridge with bachelor food and beer for my husband. I busted my butt at work so in theory, I won't hear a word from them the entire week. I NEED THE BREAK. I need to not have a schedule, or look at a clock or calendar and wonder where the hell the day went. In fact, my vacation does not have a calendar. Or a watch. As long as I make it to the airport on time on the following Saturday to catch my return flight, we are golden.
Deep breath....do the question is posed: Do I remember how to relax?
Friday, September 3, 2010
When my husband and I talk about money it usually goes like this:
Me: "How did you blow through $200 in cash in just 4 days? Are you on drugs?"
Him: "Um....NO. Why would you think that?"
Me: "Well, I pack you lunch everyday. I buy you beer and gatorade and sodas. I buy you snacks. I just don't really see what you are spending that money on unless during your lunch you are sloughing over to GG Park to hit up your dealer."
Him:"Are you serious?"
Me, putting on my saddest face I can muster: "I just hope the crack is worth it. I mean, I am going to have to wrap our son's butt in paper towels since we won't be able to afford diapers soon. Just promise me you won't sell him."
Him: "I don't even know what to say to you right now..."
Ok, so that is a nice version of what I usually say to him. In all seriousness, we have a problem communicating about money. Mostly because I am the one who pays the bills every month and does the shopping, etc. This role was just kind of assumed. He was taking care of financials for businesses, and really, who wants to come home and do the same thing? Plus I am a control freak. So here we have me paying the bills and seeing where every cent we make goes, and him pulling in the $$$ and not knowing anything. Now, this may be a big flashing warning to most of you, but I didn't see how big of a problem this was.
My husband hears me bitch about money all the time. He hears me talk at him about not spending and how he blows too much. And he sees the numbers on his paychecks, and how much time he spends at work. He feels justified in spending money.
And you know, he's right. We do make great money. And we should be able to enjoy it. If we want to spend $146 on a case of car cleaner, we should be able to (guess who made this purchase?). If we want to take a trip, we should be able to. And I shouldn't have to check the bank accounts every monring in fear wondering how much he blew the day before on corn nuts and 5 hour energy drinks.
The other day, the light bulb went on in my head. He needed to see exactly what we paid each month to our credit cards, car payment, insurance, groceries, diapers, cell phone, loans, etc. He needed to see what we owed and to whom. So I pulled it all together. I added things up. I prioritized what I thought should be paid off first, how much we should save. I decided it was time to get on the same page. I couldn't expect him to just automatically go with what I say. I mean, he respects me, but come on. One of the reasons I love him is that he has his own opinions and dreams. And he goes after them. And he expresses them.
When he came home from work, the best thing happened. Well, other than winning the lottery. We sat down and talked like adults. Like married adults with responsibilities. We COMMUNICATED. We both laid it all out and we got on the same page. He talked about how he felt and what he wanted. I talked about how I felt and what I wanted. And we listened. We made decisions and suggestions.
That's how it's supposed to go, right? This is how married people are supposed to communicate? It only took me 5 years to figure out.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Isaac wants the bunny to go EVERYWHERE. He shows me "bun-neee" every morning when I get him up. He cuddles him immediately when he lays down. The pillow in his crib is pointless. He only wants to lay on the blue bunny. And more often than not, bunny has to follow us to breakfast and sits ontop of another chair to watch mickey mouse with him while I get ready. He drags bunny around by his long ears or holds him tight around the middle and toddles around haphazardly because the bunny is still about as long as he is.Sweetly, sometimes "bun-nee" comes out as "bud-deee." This led us to refer to blue bunny as Bunny Buddy.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
"How much did they first pay you to give up on your dream?"
This line resonated with me as much as the character that George Clooney said it to. And just like that character, I immediately knew the answer.
They paid me $37,000 a year. Plus benefits. And a sweet discount.
And I didn't think I was giving anything up at the time. I thought I was getting a sweet deal. I had just gotten back from my wedding and honeymoon, and the summer was turning to fall. The thought of beginning a job search to find a job in my field seemed daunting and somewhat pointless. We didn't know where my husband's job was going to lead, and it seemed like the right thing at the time.
Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. In retrospect, I gave 5 years of my life to a company that didn't give a tiny rat's ass about me as person, as an individual. I made beautiful, wonderful friends there. I got great experience there. But it was clear, from the beginning that I was not following my dream. I was not happy, not truly happy. I gave up a job in a lower paying position in my field that might have been just what I needed. I passed up the opportunity because someone was offering me a flashy price tag.
A few years, I fortunate enough to get an out. The company I worked for started showing their true colors in my mind, and I realized that my dream was not to move forward with this position. I wasn't going to be a store manager, I didn't want to be a corporate person. I didn't want to spend my life or frankly, one more minute that I didn't have to. So began the search for something that would let me follow what I really wanted to do, what I knew in my heart would make me happy.
And you know what? It was HARD. That 5 years made it HARD to get back on the track I wanted to be on. And it was because of that price tag. It was because we were used to that paycheck, and frankly needed that paycheck. Any less would make life harder. And I am not saying that I don't need to pay my dues, because I do. People who think that just because they went to college, they deserve their dream job right away, make me stabby. People that don't think they need to work to acheive what they want. I believe in lucky breaks, sure. But I also believe in hardwork. I am starting a few years later than I should have.
Again, I was fortunate to fins a new job that paid me better and would allow me to get back on track. 3 years later, and I feel like I am finally get a sense of what I truly want, and where I want to be, what I want to do with my life. And it's a struggle. It's not coming easy, especially in today's economy. The competition is fierce and my decisions are not only limited by finances (still) but also by how it will affect my son. I am not willing to compromise his stability or his schedule at this time. That is a personal decision that we made as a family. And it isn't one I am going to retract on.
At this point in my life, I know I live with the choices I made. Of course there are things I would have done differently, money I would have saved, decisions I would have made differently. But ultimately, I know I made the best choice, seemingly at the time. I finally feel like I can getting back to the point that I dreamed of being at, the job I envisioned, the life I wanted.
But that was how much I got paid to give up following my dream. Was it worth that? Nope. You can't put a price on that.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
He woke up in such a good mood. I can always hear him wake up. He plays in his bed for a while, mostly ripping stuffing out of the big blue bunny that I keep forgetting to sew up. When he is ready to get up he starts to call us. "Mom! Maaaaaaa-ma! Helllooooo! Mom! Daddddddddeeeeeee! Hellooooo! Kit-teee!"
He was all smiles and excited when he sat down for his breakfast of scrambled eggs and cheese, mini pancakes, and blueberries. We don't usually eat breakfast at home on daycare days, but this new daycare doesn't serve breakfast and doesn't open until 8. We have extra time now. He even got to play a little. We brushed our teeth together. I am positive he was thinking this was going to be a mommy day.
I told him it was time to go bye-bye. He said no and ran away from me. I turned off Ma-mo and he turned it back on. I turned it off again and held out his coat. He threw himself on the floor and cried. I scooped him up and got his coat on. We cuddled for a minute. He walked himself to the car, maybe now thinking that we were just going to the store like we do some mornings.
We drove the minute (seriously, it was one minute, if that) to the new daycare center. I parked the car and watched a little red haired girl get out of the car with her mommy. She was younger than Isaac, maybe only 9 months old. I turned in the car to look at him, he was also watching the little girl, being carried in by her mommy. He looked at me with sad eyes, seeming to realize what was going on.
I got him out of the car, and gathered his bag, blankie, and papers. We went inside the sunny house and said hi to everyone there. We sat down and took off his shoes. He climbed all over me like a monkey. Everytime I put him down, he climbed back up. We played with the office setup for a few minutes. We looked at the fishies. And then...then, I had to hand him over and leave for work. And then, the screaming began. The thrashing. The tears.
I choked back my own tears as I walked from the house to my car, watching him screaming in the window, Miss S waveing goodbye. I cried all the way to Starbucks and then for about 20 minutes in the parking lot before I finally was able to wipe my eyes and go in for my Dark Cherry Mocha.
I cried because I left half of my heart behind, sad and scared.
I know Isaac will be happy at the new daycare. I know he will love it and learn and make new friends. He will have fun. I know it is the best decision for him, for me, for all of us. I didn't cry because of those things. I didn't cry because I was leaving him somewhere where I didn't think he belonged.
I called a few hours later. He was fine, Miss S said. He fed the fish and played with the Guinea pig. He unpacked his things into his cubby. He stood by the door, watching for mommy before starting to play.
I have to go pick up the other half of my heart now.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Anyway, I am feeling all kinds of anxiety about taking him there. Not really bad, but...anxious. I don't know how to accurately describe it. I filled out the thick packet of paperwork, signing forms, filling out phone numbers, copying vaccination papers. And as I was signing the form that waived liabilty of the center to pay any medical expenses that Isaac may incur while in their care...I got all...anxious. Not that I think that Isaac will incur mass medical expenses and I need to have my proof of medical insurance, etc. But that here I am for the third time in his little life, entrusting my precious baby boy in someone else's care and leaving him there.
This is the third stranger he has to meet. The third new house he has to learn and adapt to. The third new group of kids he has to learn to play with, share with, get along with.
It just seems really unfair, that I am putting him through this again, just when he is getting so happy at Miss C's. I know he is young, and he adapts so easily (so far). He is social and friendly. And I am sure he will be absolutely fine.
I feel like I am being selfish. Like I should have planned better before and while I was pregnant. I should have saved more and payed more bills, so we would be in a better position for me to stay home with Isaac. I should have done something, ANYTHING differently, because I just feel so...anxious about it. Like, maybe I should have agreed to leave him at Miss C's until November and make another clean break for him. Maybe I should have agreed to take him to a different place that was available for full time right now, instead of waiting for this center.
Maybe I should not feel like I need my job in my life, like I need that part of my old life in my new life as mom. The truth is, 9 days out of 10, I relish the 8 hours I am at work and doing what I am good at. I like having this bit of my life that doesn't really revolve around me being a mommy. That makes me feel guilty. I don't like feeling that way.
Despite how I feel today or tomorrow, inevitably, on Friday morning, I will pack up his diapers, wipes, extra clothes, extra medicines, blankie and cup, and drop my son off at his third daycare. His third daycare in 19 months.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Isaac very rarely wakes during the night. I will hear him stir, and sometimes whimper a bit. But he seldom wakes up in the middle of the night unless he is RAVENOUS or has a diaper blowout or one of the @$%hat cats has managed to get into his room and jump in the crib (Another Note: I long since took down the crib tent prevent said @$%hat cats from leaping into the crib. Isaac is big enough now to sense when one of them is in his bed. And half the time he thinks it is hilarious).
Or he has a nightmare. Like last night.
At about 3am, I hear him SCREAMING. No precursor whimpers. No small cries. FULL BLOWN SCREAMS.
Thinking some crazed kidnapper or axe murder has busted through the wonky Dr. Suess windows in his room, I rocketed out of bed so fast, the cat sleeping on my head flew across the room. Flinging open his bedroom door and adjusting the dimmer on the overhead light, I see my baby laying face down, clutching his big blue bunny pillow. SCREAMING.
No axe murders, child molesters, or crazed maniacs were in sight. Nor was the other cat.
He didn't lift his head when I came in. He didn't look up when I spoke to him. He laid there and screamed.
Immediately I am thinking he has watched too much Air Jaws and I have passed onto the MomFail side.
I rubbed his back, and finally he looked up at me, or squinted at me and lifted his arms up. He laid his head on my shoulder and SCREAMED. I sat on the floor with him, only to have him start writhing and screaming louder. We stood up and rocked back and forth. We went to the recliner and rocked, still SCREAMING. My husband woke up and came out to see what was happening. Isaac reached for him and I went to get his milk, thinking it might help. He grabbed the cup and clutched it to his chest, still screaming. My husband took him to our bed and turned the TV on for a little light. SCREAMING. We laid next to him, thrashing and SCREAMING. At about 330, he was calming down, so I put him back in his crib. A few minutes later, he was back to snoring softly, screaming subsided and I was looking down at my peacefully slumbering angel.
When I returned to bed, Ben commented that it didn't seem like Isaac was ever really awake, but stuck in his nightmare or whatever he was screaming about.
I have known parents who have kids that have night terrors.
Is this what is happening to Isaac? This episode was not the first...I would say it happens about once a month, maybe less. And if so, should I just be leaving him in his crib to cry it out? I didn't really try to wake him up. Just to soothe him.
It kills me to hear him scream that way. Especially that I can't get him to stop. What should I be doing?