Bearca

the head and the heart

2012-01-19T17:00:00.000-08:00

The voice in my head says I can’t take the kids to the park right now. The house is a disaster!
The voice in my heart says it’s gorgeous outside. Let’s go laugh ourselves silly while we roll down a hill.

The voice in my head says if I give that homeless woman money, she’ll probably just use it for drugs.
The voice in my heart says how do you know? It’s not your job to decide that. Show grace to others as it’s been freely shown to you.

The voice in my head says I’m too busy to make dinner for that family at school whose toddler is in the final stages of cancer.
The voice in my heart says drop everything. How would I want friends, family and even strangers to treat me if my child was sick?

The voice in my head says wow, it’s really annoying how everyone in this family leaves dirty socks everywhere.
The voice in my heart says (yep, ditto, still annoying.)

The voice in my head says my life is too stressful. I have to go to work, pick up the kids, make lunches, help with homework, cook dinner, go grocery shopping, give the kids their baths, clean up the messes everywhere.
The voice in my heart says open your eyes, woman! Look at everything you have and be thankful.

****

Although I only float into this space a couple of times a year, I still envision this as a place to put things I don’t want to forget. This post has been brewing in my head for quite a while now, and I wanted to finally write it down here to keep me accountable to listen to my heart, because it’s telling me important things every day.

the shape of you

2011-09-01T15:30:00.000-07:00

I hear three-year old feet padding softly toward my bedside. I try to ignore them, it’s too early for her to be up, and I think ahead to how much coffee I’ll need to get through the morning. I sigh, but she climbs over my somnolent form anyway and settles herself as close to me as she can. Her little body is turned toward me; my eyes are closed, but I hear the soft rhythmic popping sound that means she is sucking her thumb. She takes one warm hand out from beneath the covers, and rests it gently on my arm. After a minute or two, she starts rubbing my arm softly and then I hear her quietly whisper “Mommy. I like the shape of you.”

I smile, and snuggle her closer, and blue eyes meet across mere inches of pillow. I look at her with her soft blond hair splayed out, and think to myself no, I don’t want to be awake now, but yes, if I have to wake up then this is the way to go.

I like the shape of you too, little girl. Indeed I do.

Where I'm From

2011-06-24T17:00:00.000-07:00

I saw this on Ali's site, and loved it so much that I actually decided to do it myself. Did you even remember that I have a blog? Yeah, me neither.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I am from pink bikes with flowered banana seats, rotating sprinklers, Swensen’s ice cream and bookstores.

I am from hand-me down clothes and beach camping and shave ice and the feel of black vinyl seats on your legs in the summertime.

From climbing the carrotwood tree, watching the bees buzz through bottlebrush and the smell of star jasmine at night.

I am from eating olives off your fingers at Thanksgiving and laughing with you, never at you; from Moyers and Carys and Thoms and Juanitas and Nellies; from long car rides in various station wagons to Julian and Borrego Springs and Yosemite.

I am from repeated jokes and silly puns and friends who are like family.

From don’t forget to write thank-you notes, wear lipstick and sunscreen, you can have more than one friend at a time, and always honor your commitments even when you get a better offer.

I am from God’s love and mercy, forgiveness without judgment and the belief that people are always redeemable.

I'm from San Diego and Missouri and Illinois, from BLTs with homegrown tomatoes and homemade apple butter and pie crust and coffee cake.

From getting stitches caused by awkward tap dancing, chocolate doughnuts and chocolate milk, from watching the racehorses and going to the fair and laughing ourselves to sleep and sisters always telling what we got each other for Christmas. I am from Dad driving an hour and a half to get the hardware needed to hang up a lamp in my very first dorm room.

I am from family photos with bad hair, huge boxes of Grandma’s costume jewelry, notes on napkins that say "I love you," and learning that it’s okay if you fail but that showing up is often the most important thing.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In her post, Ali points to this great template, in case you want to do one of your very own. And you should!

I can't believe I'm posting this

2009-07-22T16:30:00.000-07:00

How do you remove peanut butter from a knife? Up to this point, my methods have included the following:

1) Use a paper towel to wipe off the knife. Then, place knife in dishwasher.
Pros: Effective
Cons: wasteful, not earth-friendly, multi-step process

2) Rinse knife and gum up dish brush with leftover peanut butter.
Pros: Knife ultimately gets clean.
Cons: Dish brush is gummed up with leftover peanut butter. Duh.

3) Leave knife in sink for two days and hope that the peanut butter somehow sloughs off on its own.
Pros: little to no effort
Cons: Many. Chiefly the fact that the knife never gets clean.

I lamented on Twitter this morning that there is no good way to do this. Right away I got back multiple responses identifying the simplest, most effective method.

USE YOUR TONGUE.

Hello. Why did I never think of that? Believe it or not, I have a college degree and everything.

Now I need to know... am I the only moron who hadn't thought of that? Please, make me feel better.

In other news, you guys, I saw Harry Potter last night! I LOVED IT. I was surprised by how funny it was. Not to mention sad. I may or may not have shed a few tears. Now, I'm considering reading book 6 again just to remember all the detail that the movie left out. Book nerd alert!

weekendery

2009-07-20T16:30:00.000-07:00

This weekend was one of those where we packed a week's worth of activity into two days. It was also a weekend where we barely turned on the TV, we used up a whole bottle of sunscreen and truly wore ourselves out.

Because focusing on activities that Exhaust the Children pretty much sums up my parenting philosophy.

On Saturday, we did this by going to a birthday party, the pool and then renting a boat on the bay. This is highly recommended! There were chips, guacamole, pizza... and most importantly, wine. Also, there were small children wearing tiny life jackets.

Cutest ever! But why must they make these ridiculous faces when asked to smile?

And here is our fearless skipper, who is only lacking a hat to make the ensemble complete.

Pardon the horrific picture quality. Despite multiple reminders, we were somehow unable to remember to bring our actual camera, so the iPhone had to suffice. At least we remembered the vino.

Priorities, people.

late adopter

2009-07-15T16:33:00.000-07:00

Wow. Y'all sure did have my back on the chopstick usage! I had always thought that Awkward Chopsticks™ was a rare and lonely affliction. Evidently it is more common than I ever imagined. It knows neither age nor geographic restrictions! Be strong, my friends. You are in good company.

Anyway, have you seen the new Harry Potter movie yet? I can't wait to see it. However, that may not happen soon. It's hilarious how late to everything I constantly am. For example, I read the Harry Potter series a couple of months ago, I'm currently reading Lord of the Rings and I just signed up for a Flickr account two weeks ago. Also? The car I drive now is the only one I've ever had with power steering. True story! I like to make sure things are proven before I jump in with both feet.

Or something.

I'm sure I won't be seeing the movie until I can get it from Netflix, since my children (as charming as they are) are a real bottleneck when it comes to seeing movies in theaters.

But regardless, I don’t remember ever being as engaged in a series as I was with Harry Potter. I loved how the plot grew as the characters matured, I found the storylines compelling and Severus Snape was one of my favorite characters in recent fiction. So complex and intriguing.

So if you’ve seen Half-Blood Prince, give me your two cents! That might just be enough to motivate me to see it with the rest of America… rather than two years later like I usually do.

is this thing on?

2009-07-13T13:35:00.000-07:00

Hey, remember me? It’s great to see you. Your hair looks good.

Speaking of hair, did you hear that I was on Rachael Ray late last week with the lovely Whoorl as part of the show’s feature on Hair Thursday? Yeah, it’s true! The filming happened well over a year ago and just aired on Friday. The experience was so much fun, except for one teeny-tiny part.

Let me give you a quick overview of how it all went down. First, Rachael interviewed Sarah on stage. Did you see how articulate and glamorous Sarah was? She’s a stunner, that one. Then, Rachael talked to me from the audience to ask why I participated in Hair Thursday. After that part, I was whisked away into the hair and makeup room to get my hair cut and colored by the awesome Rodney Cutler and his team. Seriously, there could not be a nicer and more talented guy than Rodney. He was amazing.

After my hair was all done and styled, they brought me back out on stage toward the end of the show for the big reveal. Which is where I somewhat mortifyingly flipped my hair and Rachael made me do a little twirl. I’m not usually much of a center-of-attention type, I’ve gotta tell ya. But the studio audience was fun because they clap a lot. Applause! It’s encouraging! Who knew.

All was going well until Rachael had me sit down at the table in front of a big plate of sweet and sour pork that she had made on the show that day. It looked and smelled delicious, but when I saw that the only available utensils were chopsticks, I panicked.

Hello, my name is Rebecca and I SUCK AT EATING WITH CHOPSTICKS.

I always have, and I probably always will, since I’m 35 years old and old dog, new tricks, yadda yadda yadda.

Somehow I successfully manage to transport a couple of bites to my mouth without incident. And it was DELICIOUS, I tell you. So thanks Rachael. THANKS FOR NOTHING.

Because I spent the next year-plus stressing over the fact that my Awkward Chopsticks™ were going to be exposed to America on national television.

The bottom line is that no, they weren’t. My Awkward Chopsticks were masterfully edited out, but now I’m telling you, because... I don’t know why. I’m all about laughing at myself, I guess. And if ever there was an opportunity, this was it.

If you didn’t catch it, visit Rachael’s site for a clip of the reveal. You can see my embarrassing hair flip, but mercifully my chopstick-handling skills are minimized for your viewing pleasure.

happy birthday, baby D!

2009-02-09T10:02:00.000-08:00

I can't believe she is already a year old. These last twelve months have flown by. Seemingly overnight, she went from a tiny helpless baby to a big girl with three teeth, who stands up all by herself and laughs at anything and everything.

I love this precious girl.

25 things

2009-02-05T10:51:00.000-08:00

Originally posted on Facebook, because I was tagged by 8,467 people to do this. I confess: I actually found it kinda fun.

1. I have always lived in the suburbs of Southern California, but I fancy myself somewhat of a city girl.

2. When I was little I was obsessed with horses. Really obsessed, like to the point that when I would come home from riding lessons, I would refuse to take a shower because I wanted to smell like horses. (Grown-up me says “Um, gross.)

3. I am a klutz. Bella Swan’s got nothing on me.

4. I am a former competitive swimmer. In fact, swimming represents the entirety of my athletic talent. See #3 above.

5. My diehard addictions include coffee, Diet Coke, shoes and J. Crew.

6. I also really like wine.

7. And salty snacks. Especially chips. That are dipped in guacamole. And also dark chocolate.

8. Evidently, I am hungry right now.

9. I watch too much TV.

10. All three of my most embarrassing moments involve glass being broken in humiliating circumstances. Did I mention my klutzitude?

11. I won a spelling bee when I was in third grade. No, seriously. I am an excellent speller.

12. My musical taste is, how shall we say, eclectic. Some of my more random likes include the Rent soundtrack and Anne Murray. I’M NOT ASHAMED.

13. I have never really been a kid person, but thank God I have two of my own. They are fantastic.

14. I hate being cold.

15. Reading is my life’s passion and I am never happier than when I have a stack of unread books on my nightstand.

16. My favorite books are The Brothers K by David James Duncan and A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving.

17. I love going to the movies by myself. Actually, I love going to the movies at all and never get to, because of my aforementioned kids.

18. I love for things to be uncluttered on the surface, but don’t open a drawer or closet at my house because you will be showered in junk a la Monica Gellar. Out of sight, out of mind!

19. I have a terrible memory, but I usually remember people’s middle names. I find them intriguing.

20. I am not good at using chopsticks. I’M JUST NOT. This one, I actually am kind of ashamed of. In fact, my awkward chopstick skills were once very nearly exposed on national television! True story.

21. I also cannot shuffle a deck of cards properly. So being invited to a party with card-playing and sushi would strike anxiety into my heart. Although I really do love sushi.

22. Ketchup is an overrated condiment.

23. I will go to extreme lengths to avoid vomiting.

24. I feel guilty about the fact that I rarely work out.

25. I am an introvert at heart and hate being the center of attention, although I am not particularly shy.

What would you do...

2009-02-02T14:26:00.000-08:00

… if you thought it was a good idea to take both your kids to Old Navy, or “Old Maybe” as your child may have called it, and your child threw a big old fit and wouldn’t listen to anything you said, and then when you got down on his level to talk to him about it, he then proceeded to HIT YOU?

… and then, if you took away your child’s toy car because of the hitting, he started throwing a screaming fit while still in the store?

… and then he hit you again?

… and you then dumped your armful of clothes on the nearest display, did the extra-firm upper-arm grab to remove him from the scene and alert him that YOU MEAN BUSINESS, all while pushing the stroller with the other child in it, and he reaches out and hits you AGAIN?

Now, mind you, these are all HYPOTHETICAL examples, because my children are perfect ANGELS, especially the one who happens to be THREE and fiercely INDEPENDENT.

I am just wondering, in the off chance that one of you unlucky saps has been through this. Because I have this friend...

update

2009-01-27T09:50:00.001-08:00

So! It was a double ear infection – can you believe it? All this time I was convinced that my poor little baby was suffering from bronchitis or pneumonia, or had somehow turned into a 30-year smoker with emphysema overnight. But no. Instead, both her ears are infected, and her head is so full of mucus that it is draining and making her cough.

SAD.

These kids, I tell ya. They are a mystery. Anyway, she is now loaded up on Amoxicillin and I’m sure will be back to 100% healthy in no time.

Onward! I’m back in the office today, thankfully, because usually when I’m here I can control my desire to eat everything in sight. Don’t get me wrong, everyone who knows me from Twitter is well aware that I crave Fritos regularly, but when the Fritos craving hits me at home, I will rummage through my pantry and eat half a box of mint Joe-Joe’s or See’s molasses chips instead.

(Yes. That really happened.)

Obviously, being at the office has its drawbacks too. Like people in the restroom stall next to you, who are tapping away on their BlackBerry WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY SITTING ON THE TOILET. Now, that doesn’t seem as bad to me as the person at my old office who would floss her teeth in the stall every day after lunch, earning herself the nickname of The Pot Flosser, but GROSS.

(Yes. That also really happened.)

With that lovely sentiment, I will leave you to your Tuesday. Enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. But mostly, stay classy.

good, bad, ugly

2009-01-26T10:19:00.000-08:00

The bad news:
I'm home with the poor sick little Delaney today. She is coughing so much, it's just sad. In fact, she coughed so hard over the weekend that she made herself hurl. Twice. It was truly disgusting. Anyway, I got her a doctor's appointment this afternoon, so until then, we are chilling together and spending a mellow day at home.

The good news:
Even though my baby is sick, I got dressed instead of schlumping around in yoga pants and Uggs. (Side note: I now have that song "Humpin' Around" in my head. Thanks, self. Who sings that?) Anyway, the good thing about that is that I am getting so much more done and feel better wearing jeans, a sweater and flats rather than a spit-up stained sweatshirt. I guess those people (e.g. MY MOTHER) who always lecture you about how you feel as good as you look might actually be onto something. Go figure.

Case in point... check out my new flats that I am wearing today. Do you love them? I do!

The Ugly:
So far, I have eaten a cereal bar, a bagel with cream cheese, three See's molasses chips and three cups of coffee. Somebody, help me stop consuming the contents of my snack drawer QUICK.

Conversations with 3-year olds: Inauguration Edition

2009-01-21T09:13:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was an amazing and historic day. Even at my son’s preschool, they watched the inauguration on TV. When I picked him up, we had a conversation that went a little something like this:

Me: “What did you think of the inauguration?”

Evan: “I saw Barack Obama!”

Me: “What was he doing?”

Evan: “He was talking!”

Me: “What did he do when he finished talking?”

Evan: “He got in the car and drove across town. Mommy, did you know that Barack Obama lives in a white house?”

Me: “Yes.”

Evan: “We live in a white house too!”

Me: “Yes, we do. But Barack Obama’s house is special because that is where the President of the United States lives.”

Evan: “Our white house is special too.”

Me: “Um… yes it is.” (I can’t really argue with that one.)

I hope he remembers this day… I know I will.

call me crazy

2009-01-19T09:07:00.000-08:00

Last week there was some chatter on Twitter about the proper way to eat a grilled cheese sandwich.

(Extra grilled, preferably with tomatoes inside, dipped in hot sauce. OBVS.)

But this made me think. Despite my many food vices – love of Diet Coke, chocolate, Fritos and all things salty – there are a couple of things that I could easily live without: ketchup and ice cream.
Don’t get me wrong, I like ketchup and ice cream. But I could happily live my entire life without eating either one. Ketchup is not necessary for French fries. In fact, I am a French fry purist. Just the delicious potatoey goodness with a light sprinkling of salt, please.

And ice cream? Sure, it’s good, and we usually have it at home because my husband loves it. It’s just not my dessert of choice. (Let’s not talk about cupcakes and brownies, because CANNOT. RESIST.)

What about you – what could you live without?

mama's girl

2009-01-16T10:51:00.000-08:00

I apologize in advance for the mushy goo I am about to spill right now. But I want to remember this.

Today I was walking my daughter into her daycare. I was holding her warm, solid little 11-month old self and listening to her babble. She looked at me with her gummy, two-toothed smile, rested her head on my shoulder and patted me on the arm as we walked. The sun was warm and I was filled with gratitude.

The second child sometimes gets the short end. There are fewer photos, and there are fewer firsts, but there is much more. More appreciation: of the fact that she is entirely her own person, of the fact that time is fleeting. I don’t know what the future holds for her, but I wish and hope and pray for only good.

Right now, I know that she holds onto my wrist while she is drinking her bottle. She rests her head on my chest and sucks her thumb. I tickle her chubby thighs, I feel the brush of her dandelion hair on my cheek and I want to freeze time if only for a moment, to fully appreciate what I have.

She is a mama’s girl, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

things I am currently thankful for

2009-01-12T11:01:00.000-08:00

This is kind of loosely based on that whole Grace in Small Things that Whoorl has been doing, but who are we kidding, we both know that I lack the follow-through on that sort of thing. Mine would more accurately be titled “Things that I am thankful for that I might feel the need to notify the internet about twice a year or so.” But anyway: onward!

The return of 24. Jack Bauer is about to single-handedly save the world from terrorism again and I have a front-row seat. Or just DVR. Whatever. YAY JACK!!

Sister night. My sister lives 45 minutes away but we get together as often as possible. Last Thursday we met to go shopping (we had Anthropologie gift cards from Christmas burning holes in our respective purses!) and closed out a successful shopping trip with beer, dumplings and crispy green beans from PF Changs. Seriously, if you have not tried the crispy green beans, you need to. RUN, DON’T WALK. But anyway, my sister is one of the most amazing people I know. She is beautiful, she is talented, she is fantastic in every way and if I didn’t love her, I would surely hate her.

Braised short ribs. We had friends over on Saturday night and made this. It was as if I had died and gone to heaven. Meat and potatoes, yum!

Ticklish babies. Is there a better sound in the entire world than that of a baby really and truly belly laughing? I submit to you that there is not.

Trader Joe's Candy Cane Joe-Joe's. These are like peppermint bark in a cookie format. Probably my favorite cookie of all time, bar none. I have discovered a shared love of this magical cookie with Andrea and we have been twittering each other about it nonstop. Actually, I probably shouldn't tell you about it because that way, there will be more for me.

Allrighty! Have a lovely Monday, internet.

a new leaf

2009-01-06T09:09:00.000-08:00

I’m not sure what happened there. Somehow, time got away from me and I have been so wrapped up in work, and the kids, and Twitter (OKAY I ADMIT IT) that I have been neglecting this site something fierce. But it IS a new year, and although I don’t have anything really specific that I resolve to do or stop doing this year, I have been starting to feel pretty guilty about never writing anymore.

I’ve also been thinking about contentment. I honestly feel that I am a truly happy and blessed person. I have a home, an awesome husband, two beautiful and hilarious kids and a great job. 2008 was a year of really good things for us. My daughter was born (11 months ago today HOW ON EARTH DID THE TIME FLY BY SO FAST?), my husband had some good things happen to him at work and I was able to reduce my hours in the office to spend afternoons with the kids. But despite all these blessings in my life, somehow my mind is always buzzing for the next thing. The next plan, the next activity, the next to-do list… I am never happy unless I am feeling productive. I have to be multi-tasking: doing the dishes, making tomorrow’s coffee, writing a list of the things I need to do, or pack, or buy. I have a real problem with just sitting down. Sitting still. Taking a few minutes to look around me and be thankful and content with all I have.

Because I have absolutely everything – everything that matters.

And that is what I want to do in 2009: appreciate everything that I have, because I am truly a lucky and blessed individual.

turtles!

2008-10-16T12:03:00.000-07:00

We are back from Hawaii. Hawaii can be summed up in one word.

Awesome.

We had a fantastic time, and somehow it was one of the most fun, yet least relaxing vacations I've ever been on. The fun was compliments of our family and the awesomeness of Hawaii, and the not-relaxing was compliments of my two lovely children. All in all, they were great, but there were some times I would have rather been drinking a mai tai in the sun than trying to get someone out of a tantrum at a restaurant. I'm just saying.

But oh well! What can you do. I have never seen such beautiful beaches and we saw sea turtles at every single one. Check out some of the evidence, compliments of my sister-in-law Ryann.

vacay!

2008-09-30T10:57:00.000-07:00

If I’ve been a little quiet lately it is because I am getting ready for vacation. Next week, we are going to… wait for it…

Hawaii!

I am excited because I’ve never been there. I have been to Jamaica, and the Bahamas, and Mexico, and Puerto Rico, but never Hawaii. We are going to the big island because my brother-in-law has qualified for the Ironman triathlon, also known in Bearca’s world as the Maybe Just a Little Bit Insane Man. I know, let’s swim 2.4 miles! Then let’s ride 112 miles on a bike! And when we are done with that, let’s run a marathon! I am a good swimmer and I know I could do the swim, and I could probably run a marathon if I trained hard enough, but I am a horrific bike rider. I should clarify that I did run a half-marathon once, and after it was over I instructed my family to stop me from ever attempting it again. Thus ending my potential Ironman bid.

But I digress. We are going to cheer Dave’s brother on and I couldn’t be more excited. Go Uncle Steve!

But the packing… I am already stressed about the packing. I have a spreadsheet, and a list of items that need to be purchased before we leave, and a list of errands that need to be run. Traveling with two small children requires a level of preparedness and boredom-avoiding tactics that I’m not sure I’m yet prepared for.

Plus, there was an incident a couple of weeks ago where Evan’s Leapster was fatally wounded. If you must know, he had an accident and peed on it. I changed the batteries, but the Leapster didn’t survive the liquid assault. Do I buy a new one, or just rely on DVD entertainment? Help!

So, wish me luck. I will be burying my head in lists and spreadsheets ensuring that we have everything we might need for a six-hour flight. Any advice?

OK, so...

2008-09-22T13:25:00.000-07:00

If you have been here, like, ever, you already know that I suck at updating this blog.

But do you know what my little daughter doesn't suck at? Mesmerizing you with her ridiculously blue eyes.

Yes, she's also turned into a thumb-sucker. CUTE.

That is all. Happy Monday.

cocktails, anyone?

2008-09-11T11:28:00.000-07:00

I would like to present to you the official Chronology of Awesomeness that has befallen me in the last few days.

First, last week, I got a speeding ticket. I was rushing home to meet a window cleaning company and knew I was already going to be five minutes late. I was allegedly going 61 in a 45 zone. ALLEGEDLY. And of course, after everything was said and done, I was 25 minutes late instead. Hi! Nice to meet you! I am the poster child for why you should not speed in order to get somewhere on time!

And when you get a speeding ticket in the presence of a 3-year old, it turns into 20 questions. Here are just a few:

"Why is the policeman talking to you?"
"Why are we stopping?"
"Why is the policeman driving a motorcycle?"
"Did you do something wrong?"
...

What I said was more or less "Yes. Mommy is in trouble because I was going too fast. Now I am getting a ticket, which is kind of like a time-out for grownups."

What I wanted to say was "Uh-huh. The cop was hiding in the bushes on his motorcycle, lying in wait in what appeared to be, at best, a dubiously legal speed trap. So Mommy is going to fight The Man on this one."

But I figured that might go over his head a bit.

Then, two days ago, my car started making a groaning noise when I turn. I took it in this morning and just got a call from the service advisor. Here’s a brief transcript of the call.

Service Advisor: Hi. We know what’s wrong with your car.

Me: ???

Service Advisor: The rack and pinion steering has a leak. It will be $882 to fix that and realign the car.

Me: (stunned silence)

Service Advisor: Also, your battery failed the test. So that will be another $135.

Me: (more stunned silence)

Service Advisor: And your tires are starting to go. I highly recommend new tires.

Me: (…)

Service Advisor: So, with your oil change and everything we’re up to $1,065. Do you have Triple A?

Me: Yes! (feeling hopeful that this will net me some sort of magical 50% off discount)

Service Advisor: Oh, great, that’ll get you $50 off.

Me: Oh.

So, yeeeahh, I’m gonna need you to cheer me up right about now. Help a sister out. Tell me something good that I should be excited about! Please. I am desperate.

reasons why I may in fact be a 68-year old woman

2008-09-08T13:51:00.000-07:00

1) I cannot watch the VMAs. Seriously. I tried watching them last night and I barely knew who anyone was, nor did I understand 75% of the crazy-haired host’s references. I don’t even know who that guy was and why he was wearing skintight leggings with boots.

2) I get irritated when I see people walking around with inappropriate undergarments. I really do. Black bra underneath a white tank top? If you’re Madonna, OK. But if you’re a teenager hanging out in suburban Orange County, NO. Get thee to Macy’s and get a nice nude-colored one. Oh, and while you’re there? Pick up a slip because your skirt is see-through.

3) I actually use the phrase “kids these days.”

4) I really enjoy eating dinner at 5:00 p.m.

I’m sure there are more, and I’ll update you when I think of them. But right now, I need to go take my Geritol so it will digest before my early bird dinner.

saturday intersection

2008-09-03T14:05:00.001-07:00

Summer, 1982

I’m sitting in the backseat of my parents’ car – a 1973 Chevy Malibu. It’s the hottest day of summer and the backs of my legs stick to the black vinyl seats while I try to avoid touching the sharp scratchy place where the upholstery is torn. No one had air conditioning back then, so we hang our heads out the window like dogs to catch the breeze. I smell coconut. It’s the suntan lotion on my skin, the syrup coating my shave ice. We beg to go faster up the hill, the hill with the giant bumps that make you feel like you’re flying. We giggle furiously, the wind blowing our hair.

Summer, present day

It’s the same place, the same hot weather, the same scene – but I’m the one driving the car. This time we drive past the ocean, watching the surfers, seeing the waves on the other side of the rocks. I smell coffee, and I hear giggling, but this time it’s not my sister, but my little boy. He sits in the back, saying “Faster, Mommy, faster!” as I turn up the hill and hit the gas with every bump. I wonder, what of this will he remember?

overreaction

2008-08-26T09:09:00.000-07:00

I am having the most unbelievably crappadocious morning. Let me preface this post by telling you that the story I am about to relay is COMPLETELY MY FAULT. I know this, and I own up to this, but I still must vent. People, man. PEOPLE.

So I was dropping off the kids at their various daycares and preschools this morning. Delaney’s daycare is in a condo complex, which means the parking situation is less than ideal. There is one designated spot where the parents are supposed to park while they are doing the drop-off. If that spot is taken, then I guess you are supposed to park on the street. This morning, of course, that spot was taken. So I had a decision to make: make a big, time-consuming loop and park on the street, or park in one of the other empty spots assuming the people who own those spots are already off to work.

Ill-fatedly, I chose the latter. I knew it was a risk, but I was going to be parked there for all of five minutes and didn’t anticipate a problem.

HOW WRONG I WAS.

When I came out of the daycare, I saw that the car who normally parks in the spot I had taken was parked behind me with the hazards on.

Crap.

I had Evan with me and we had no option but to get in the car and wait. I didn’t know which condo the car belonged to and even if I did, my sense of guilt and shame would have prevented me from knocking on the door and asking them to move the car when it was clearly my fault for parking there in the first place.

So we waited.

And waited.

And while we were waiting, an older couple came out of their condo and I saw them shaking their heads and cluck-clucking at me. I could hear every word they said (come on, it’s a car with glass windows, not a soundproof booth). The woman said sadly, “Oh no. Someone parked in her spot,” and continued shaking her head to show her disapproval.

Meanwhile, among all the obvious judgment, I had figured out which condo the car behind me belonged to. It was straight ahead of me and there was a lady in there who kept looking out her kitchen window. She appeared to be doing her dishes or something but she was moving SLOWER THAN MOLASSES and kept peeking outside her window, leading me to believe that she was the one.

Finally she emerged – after 15 minutes. I rolled down my window, smiled at her and said “I’m REALLY sorry! This was totally my fault!” She just looked at me and stared at me with a death glare. Then, Angry Condo Parking Lot Lady walked back to her car and proceeded to take an extended look to make sure that I hadn’t tried to hit her car or anything. At this point I became somewhat enraged. I knew what I had done wrong and I had apologized to ACPLL and received absolutely no response. She had clearly parked behind me to teach me a lesson and was not going to let up until she was good and done. And meanwhile, was going to continue looking at me every 30 seconds or so to give me the death glare. You know, in case I did not know she was good and angry.

Meanwhile, I am trying to talk to Evan. He kept asking “Why are we not moving?” and I said “Mommy parked in this lady’s spot and now I can’t move because her car is blocking mine.” He said “That lady does not look happy.”

Welcome to the understatement of the year.

After her complete inspection of her car, ACPLL got in her car, took an exceedingly long time turning on the engine and getting settled, and drove away.

Have I mentioned that I totally understand this was my fault??? Because I do. But I also know that it’s not like I ran over her dog. If I was her, I probably would have been irritated too, and she had every right to be. But if I had been in her place and someone had given me a sincere apology, I probably would have gone on my way and not harbored such an obvious and unnecessary grudge.

Help me understand here: am I crazy? Who overreacted here, her or me?

change of plans

2008-08-21T09:04:00.000-07:00

I have recently come to terms with the fact that I am simply not a spontaneous person. I like to have A Plan, and I like to stick to That Plan. Typically my plans involve lots of mental preparation, some list-making (dear Lord, do I love making lists) and often, a reluctance to change. I think part of it is that I have two small children, and leaving the house at any time requires a military level of precision and preparedness, but only recently have I embraced the fact that it’s also just my personality. I am obsessed with being prepared and knowing what’s next at all times so I have time to wrap my mind around it.

(sidebar: wow. That makes me sound really fun. YOU SHOULD ALL WANT TO PARTY WITH ME.)

So imagine my surprise when Dave called me at 4:45 pm yesterday and said “Guess what! We just got two free tickets to the Dave Matthews concert tonight at Staples Center – and they’re in a private suite!” Now I can appreciate free concert tickets as much as the next gal, but due to my confessed lack of spontaneity I was like “But who will watch the children?” and “But the housekeeper is coming tomorrow, when are we going to pick up all our clutter?” and “But I really wanted to dismantle the baby swing tonight!” (see above re: how much you should want to party with me.)

Now, Dave is a really fun guy, and lacks my resistance to spontaneity. He launched a campaign: “But it’ll be fun! We never get to go out! When will we ever have this opportunity again?” All arguments that I could not disagree with. So, thanks to Dave’s sister who agreed to stay with the kids (yay Aunt Ryann!), off we went like the carefree, spontaneous couple we totally aren't.

And guess what? We had a fabulous time. The concert was OK – we have seen DMB before and loved it, and this time was not quite as good, but who cares? We were sitting in free seats, with free food and free drinks, on a Wednesday night, while SOMEONE ELSE was at home supervising the kids.

And no, I didn’t get to pick up the clutter or dismantle the baby swing. Thank goodness.

(**Shameless plea: if you know me in person, could you please vouch for the fact that I CAN BE fun and not a total stick in the mud? Thanks.)

tweet tweet

2008-08-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

OK OK… so I joined Twitter. I am a sheep! A late-adopting sheep! But it is fun. And I am mostly managing not to become obsessed with it. Probably because I am only following a handful of people, so I can keep my time well contained.

Part of the reason I ended up doing it is because these funny things kept happening to me that were not really blog post-worthy, but the world needed to know! I mean, a few months ago, when I kept seeing an advertisement on a bus around town with a critical typo? And it was for H&R Block, and instead of “Want to make money doing taxes?” it said “Want to make money DONG taxes?” And I saw this bus over and over again and yet EVERY TIME was unable to snap a cell phone picture? Twitter was the obvious answer to this hilarious situation. DUH.

Now mind you, there have been others. But that one alone planted the seed. So, I bring you, Bearca’s compelling twitter updates: http://twitter.com/bearca

this morning:

2008-08-16T10:16:00.000-07:00

A pancake breakfast and a walk on the beach.

Life is good.

conversations with three-year olds

2008-08-13T09:34:00.000-07:00

One of the best things about having a three-year old is that you can have a real conversation with them. Fifty percent of the time that conversation starts off with a tantrum or various threats such as “if you do ____ again, then I am going to take away _____ for ____ minutes.” But the actual conversations that do take place are sometimes absolutely hilarious.

For example, Evan has recently mastered the assumptive close. We’ll be getting him ready for preschool in the morning and he’ll say “When you pick me up from school, we will go to Disneyland.” I will reply, “No, when I pick you up from school we’ll come home and have a snack.” And he will inevitably counter with “We’ll come home and have a snack, AND THEN we’ll go to Disneyland.” Evidently he is well on his way to being a master negotiator (shaking fist at attorney husband).

He’s also got some commonly used terms that never fail to crack me up. If he sees a hummingbird outside the kitchen window, he will point at it and excitedly declare “Mommy, look! A hummus bird!” – a mispronunciation that I think is so cute that I refuse to correct. At least for now.

He is also fond of “translating” Delaney’s coos and gurgles. She’ll say “Gaaahhhh!!!” and he says “Mommy, she said Gaaaaahhhh!!!” And in my head I say yes, Evan, my ears work so I was already aware of that.

For him, the words “last night” and “yesterday” are synonymous with “anytime in the past.” For example, on the way to preschool we drive past the mall parking lot where the pumpkin patch was set up almost a year ago. He often says “Remember yesterday when we went to the pumpkin patch?”

Everyone tells you that time passes so quickly when you have kids. On that count, I think Evan might be right. I remember “yesterday” when he was born, and I cannot believe that this walking, talking, thinking and remembering person is my baby.

perhaps "cheese" should be a new olympic sport

2008-08-11T13:50:00.000-07:00

I’m loving the Olympics right now. Who isn’t? As a former competitive swimmer, I almost cried tears of joy watching the men’s 4x100 freestyle relay. I mean, COME ON, if that didn’t get you going then either you simply do not have a pulse or quite possibly, you are dead inside.

But when I read this today, I nearly clapped my hands with glee. Finally, a way to officially calculate the cheeseball-ness of the Olympic announcers and their hilarious rotation of stock words and phrases!

Check it out: The Olympics Sap-o-Meter from www.slate.com

i'm bearca, i'm 34 years old and apparently i am wearing mom jeans.

2008-08-08T13:57:00.000-07:00

I have been a devotee of boot-cut pants for many years. I don’t know why, but I was in J Crew recently and decided to try on a pair of what they call “matchstick” cords. They are more or less the dreaded skinny pants. They have a slim straight leg. I was mysteriously and strangely drawn to them and they looked darn good with the flats I was wearing that day. If I do say so myself.

However, I ended up putting them back, because I am just not a skinny pants person. Or am I? Honestly, it was as if the pants threw me into an existential crisis. I had never considered buying a pair of non-boot cut pants. But there is no LAW against it. Is there? Then I wondered, is this how people become stuck in a fashion time-warp… by never considering something new or different?

It’s not even like skinny pants are new or trendy or something. They have been around for a couple of years, I guess. I just assumed they do not apply to me. They are for The Kids. You know, Kids These Days! With their “iPods” and their “Facebook” and their “skinny jeans.” Wait a minute:

OMG, are boot-cut pants the new Mom Jeans?

I am obviously overthinking this.

I’m buying the pants.

faith in humanity: restored

2008-08-04T11:43:00.000-07:00

Well, hello there! I think I just saw a pig streaking across the sky with golden wings, because I appear to be posting something to my blog more than once in a single week. Miracles do happen.

We went to the Del Mar horse races on Saturday and had a grand old time. I have a scientifically proven betting method. It consists of selecting a horse that is a) pretty, b) has an interesting name, or c) both of the above. This method is more fun than using actual statistics, and since I know jack squat about horse racing it’s probably about as effective.

On Saturday, my method did not let me down. In the first race, I bet $2 on Itschelseagirl to win. Now, normally I would object to the lack of spacing in that name for grammar’s sake. However, she was a pretty horse and Chelsea is the name of a family friend who Evan loves, so I went with it. And guess what?

She won the race! Should have wagered more than $2. Or not. Because I promptly lost my winning ticket. I believe it had something to do with the amount of gear and strollers I was lugging at the time. I was about to write it off as a loss based on the obvious futility of ever finding it again, but my husband and sister-in-law both encouraged me to go look for it. I mean, it was $24! That’s dinner at Baja Fish Taco, a nice bottle of wine, a can of non-chocolatified baby formula or maybe a dress at Old Navy.

So I headed off to look. And within two minutes, I FOUND IT! It was on the ground right where I suspected it might be. I picked it up, dusted it off, and proceeded to bet on losing horses for the rest of the day.

Oh well. At least those losing bets were covered.

world chocolate domination

2008-07-29T08:42:00.000-07:00

Last night we were talking about baby formula. Dave said “I’m not sure I can get behind that Nestle Good Start formula.” I asked him why and he said “Because it’s from Nestle, so it must have chocolate in there somewhere.”

I laughed and said “Do you really think so?” and he continued. “Yes. I think they hide chocolate isotopes in there so the kids who drink it as infants end up craving chocolate when they grow up.”

I started giggling uncontrollably. I think it was the phrase “chocolate isotopes.” I took chemistry and all, way back when, but I have no idea what an isotope is. (And for the record, neither does he.)

But anyway, who knew I was married to such a conspiracy theorist?

post-bath contemplation

2008-07-15T08:54:00.001-07:00

Those eyes... they kill me.

comeuppance

2008-06-09T18:49:00.001-07:00

So apparently I've been getting a tad bit too cocky about my ability to manage two small children. "This is a breeze!" I actually thought to myself yesterday. Well, today the universe has conspired to set me straight. Why am I surprised by that?

Today's Parental Dilemma #1

Question: when confronted with a three-year-old with visibly peanut-buttery hands, and a four-month-old infant who has just had a poop blowout of epic proportions covering both her clothing and the play mat she was lying on, WHICH DO YOU DEAL WITH FIRST?

Answer: This one is easy. Peanut butter hands trump a poop blowout, only because infant's limited mobility means her mess, although more disgusting, will be fairly well contained. However, freshly painted walls mean the peanut butter must be removed STAT.

Today's Parental Dilemma #2

Question: When attempting to breastfeed starving infant during older child's swimming lesson, and older child climbs out of the pool screaming and proceeds to throw a tantrum, do you try to stay calm and continue nursing, or do you remove tantruming child from the scene, which necessitates you stop feeding hungry baby, which will in turn result in additional screaming?

Answer: Tough call. However, public judgment of other swimming lesson parents is too humiliating. Must remove unreasonable three-year-old immediately, despite protest crying from starving infant. Shoving pacifier into her cry-hole while shepherding tantrum boy to a less public location is the clear choice, all the while muttering silent obscenities and yet trying to appear in control.

What do you think?

do i have a blog?

2008-06-03T11:05:00.001-07:00

Yes, well, it looks as if I do. I appear to have forgotten about it. Is anyone out there still reading this? (echo, echo, echo)

What to report after such a long hiatus? Here are the highlights:

I am going back to work at the end of this week. Feelings are mixed on this one. I'll be happy to be back among adults on a daily basis, but I will really miss my time with the baby.
Speaking of the baby, she officially hates the bottle. Feelings are most definitely NOT mixed on this one. The overwhelming one? STRESS PANIC FEAR.
Evan is almost potty-trained. HAPPINESS JOY ELATION.

Overall, it has been a nice four months off. I still need to tell you all about my trip to New York with Whoorl, and the fact that I had the opportunity to show my patented Awkward Chopstick-Eating Skills to the entire United States on national television. I might have a new Most Embarrassing Moment. Stay tuned for details!

whoorlwind

2008-04-24T11:40:00.000-07:00

Well, hello there! Have you seen this? Yes, that's right: I'm a participant in today's edition of Whoorl's Hair Thursday! And it's not just any Hair Thursday... the results will be shown on national television. Yeah, you heard me... NATIONAL TELEVISION. I am in a slight panic. But an excited one. So get out there and rock the vote. Will it be a sleek shorter bob or a medium-length layered cut with bangs? You decide.

miscellany

2008-04-23T14:34:00.000-07:00

Hi there y'all. Well, forget what I said about getting seven-hour stretches of sleep. That, apparently, has gone by the wayside for now. However, the reason I am even blogging at all right now is that both of my children have been asleep, simultaneously, aka AT THE SAME TIME, for nigh on to two full hours now. What have I done with my free time? you may ask. Well, I have caught up on blog reading and eaten my weight in 100-calorie Oreo packs. Those 100-calorie packs are great and yet ridiculous. They are nicely measured so you don't go overboard, but the whole "not going overboard" system doesn't really work when you eat multiple packs. Ugh.

In other news, this week has been crazy so far. CRAZY. I think I'm going to be able to go back to work at a reduced work schedule (YAY!) and something else kooky and exciting is also in the works for next week. More on that tomorrow, I think.

Also, I am stressing out because we are having a birthday party for Evan this weekend and there will be 25 kids plus all the associated adults! Whoa Nelly. I really need to get my act together and start some hot favor-buyin', pizza-orderin' action. Off to make an official to-do list.

life is good

2008-04-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

Maternity leave rocks. Let's just get that out of the way right now. And guess what? Today is Evan's third birthday! And Delaney is 10 weeks old today. To celebrate both these occasions, she has been sleeping good seven-hour stretches for the last few nights. Which contributes to my general level of happiness and joy.

Do you know what else contributes to my general level of happiness and joy? Starbucks iced coffee with vanilla.

Again: loving maternity leave. Where else can you eat birthday cupcakes in the morning, have vanilla iced coffee every afternoon, have frequent brunch and shopping dates with your friends and gaze goofily at your happily smiling baby... all while wearing comfy slobby clothes? This is the life, I'm telling you! Why can't I get paid for this?

double trouble

2008-03-25T12:26:00.000-07:00

What is more awesome than being up every three hours with a newborn? Why, it's being up every three hours with a newborn, AND being up several other times the same night with a vomiting toddler! Especially when it's the night before Easter, and your holiday plans must be scrapped in order to avoid exposing your entire extended family to the puking insanity.

Yes. So, that happened.

And now everyone is feeling better, thankyouGodamen.

Speaking of feeling better, yesterday was my second full day alone with the two kids, and it was a smashing success. Perhaps it was the universe's way of making up for the misery of Saturday night, but the baby napped blissfully for much of the day while Evan and I played and did puzzles. Then, he took a great nap himself and all three of us went to the pool. It was a gorgeous day.

We capped it all off with a family dinner at one of our favorite places. Mmmmm, guacamole. Plus, I drank half of my husband's Bohemia. Yum. Do I know how to party or what?

(Uh, don't answer that.)

pros and cons

2008-03-13T14:51:00.000-07:00

Things I Have Gotten Really Good At Since Having Two Children:

Bribing older child with fruit snacks to get him to cooperate while I attend to younger child's need for food and diaper changes.
Bribing older child with excessive television to get him to cooperate while I attend to younger child's need for food and diaper changes.
Playing soccer with older child while carrying young infant in a Baby Bjorn.
Emptying the dishwasher while carrying young infant in a Baby Bjorn.
Cooking dinner while carrying young infant in a Baby Bjorn.

Do you see any themes emerging? When #2 comes along, "bribery" and "hands-free" are the operative words for child-wrangling success.

Things I Still Really Suck At Despite Now Having Two Children:

Cutting newborn's fingernails without bleeding (hers) and emotional trauma (both).
Dealing with night after night of interrupted sleep.
Giving young infant enough time after hearing initial explosion to finish pooping BEFORE changing diaper (may possibly be burning out my washer and dryer with overuse).
Not eating too much junk food during the day. What? I'm tired and I DESERVE IT.

five hours baby

2008-03-06T08:57:00.000-08:00

Hello, and greetings from the land of previously no sleep. But guess what? Last night, I got five hours of sleep IN A ROW.

AT THE SAME TIME.

CONSECUTIVELY.

Followed by another three-ish hours of sleep.

Send champagne and balloons! And maybe also some ice cream, or possibly chocolate, so I can stuff my face in true celebratory style, before I am no longer able to use sleep deprivation to justify my poor eating habits.

Don't get me wrong, in no way do I assume this will happen again tonight or even a week from now. The thing with newborns is that they are hell-bent on confusing and stunning you with their illogical and sporadic sleeping habits. Terrorists, I tell you... they are terrorists.

But anyway. I feel good today, and that's enough for me.

two

2008-02-19T08:53:00.000-08:00

So far, having two has been... interesting. Evan is sweet as pie to Delaney; it's actually a joy to behold. He talks to her in a soft whispery voice, always wants to rub her head and look at her, and is generally very interested in what she's doing. It's how he's relating to us that's been a little difficult. For the past few months, he's been mercurial like most kids his age, but now he goes from happy to shrieking with little provocation. His tantrums are longer and louder - and much more frequent. I know it's just a phase, but I am simultaneously REALLY annoyed and yet sympathetic. I feel badly for him. All of a sudden his world has been turned upside down and I think he's just trying to be sure where he fits in.

But look at the two of them... tantrums or no, I feel like the luckiest person in the world.

arrival

2008-02-14T10:05:00.000-08:00

OK, so I'm a little behind here... but we have a new baby girl!! Delaney Lea was born on February 6 at 3:19 a.m. after a lightning-fast labor (only 3 hours total between first contraction and delivery - score!). She was 7 lbs., 10 oz. and 20 inches long.

We are absolutely in love. She is totally adorable, nurses like a champ, and smiles in her sleep so much that we almost forget how little we are sleeping. (almost.)

note from the trenches

2008-01-30T11:37:00.000-08:00

Uh, yeah. It’s a week after my last post and there are STILL painters in my house.

The baby’s room is still not ready. Why is that, you may ask? Well, let me tell you! We chose a paint color that turned out to be the equivalent of being inside a gigantic bottle of Pepto-Bismol! So, we just lengthened the project and asked them to repaint it. God bless my husband… he is the main liaison for these painters and has had to be the conduit for our frequent changes and complaints. I’ve given him full approval to blame me for everything.

But guess what? I’m still pregnant. Having Braxton-Hicks contractions every five seconds, but pregnant nonetheless.

And did I mention I’m still at work? What was I thinking? Oh well. I think I can hang on through tomorrow, which is supposed to be my last day. Am model conscientious employee.

Also: am model of calm, peacefulness and Zen. (Dave: zip it)

stop the insanity!

2008-01-23T10:49:00.000-08:00

Hi, all! How YOU doin'? I just wanted to share a few tips on how to make yourself totally crazy when you are 38 weeks pregnant. These tactics are tried and true and I promise, you can make them work for you!

Hire contractors to install built-in cabinets in key areas of your house.
Battle resulting sawdust and be annoyed by the many contractor shoeprints on your stairs.
Have entire inside of house painted, rendering it mostly uninhabitable because all furniture and other objects are piled in center of each room, covered in plastic.
Debate merits of various paint colors with your spouse. Decide on one, then change it, then change it back, then repeat the process.
Get involved in planning two large events for work, even though due to your advanced state of pregnancy you will OBVIOUSLY not be around to execute either one.
Continue ignoring the fact that you need to finish the baby’s room, pack a hospital bag and OMG give birth to a crying sleepless newborn ANY MINUTE NOW.

Et voila!

there’s a public service announcement somewhere among this drivel

2008-01-08T11:06:00.000-08:00

I don’t know what my deal is, but despite several major happenings lately I don’t seem able to update my blog. I was going to write a series of posts to get everyone up to speed, but in the immortal words of one of my favorite movies, “No. There is too much. Let me sum up.” Presenting…

A Bulleted List of the Things that have Happened Around Here Lately:

(The week before Christmas) A two-and-a-half hour trip to Labor and Delivery to be monitored. This directly followed an exciting episode of me chasing my runaway child out INTO A PARKING LOT, then tripping and falling in said parking lot, causing some impressive bruising on both knees, one elbow and a painful case of road rash on one hand. Once they hooked me up to the monitors, they found that I was contracting every four to eight minutes. Luckily the contractions stopped on their own and yay, I’m still pregnant.
Christmas Eve) Another trip to the hospital… but not for me this time. Two hours after we put Evan’s new big-boy dresser together and brought it upstairs, and before we had gotten around to strapping it to the wall, he opened all the drawers at the same time and it FELL OVER ON TOP OF HIM. He was trapped, and screaming, and I can say without a doubt in my mind that it was the single most terrifying moment in my life as a parent thus far. Miraculously, he escaped completely unharmed save for a bruise on his back. We took him to the ER to be safe and luckily he was OK. Please, please, please, for the love of all small children everywhere, PLEASE secure all furniture to the wall so that you do not have to go through this or worse. Because I literally cannot breathe when I think of what could have happened.
(Christmas time) Mellow and uninteresting, and blissfully free of medical drama. Much peppermint bark was consumed.
(Two days post-Christmas) Trip to Sea World. Enjoyed by all. Especially small child who was rather enamored of Shamu or “that black and white whale who makes all those bubbles” as he’s known around here now.
(This past Sunday) Despite us having largely ignored the upcoming need for potty training, I was awoken by a small voice yelling “Mommy! I have to go to the bathroom!” I took him in to the potty and sure enough, there he went! Now, I’m not so naïve to think that he just up and decided to train himself one day, but since then we have had multiple successful potty visits. Score!

The only other thing I can tell you is that I am about a month out from D-Day. Um, yeah. I am so ready, and yet so NOT ready. Two children? At one time? I’m not so sure this was a good idea. But I can’t wait to meet her…

yet more proof that being pregnant turns you into a complete and total idiot

2007-12-17T16:12:00.000-08:00

I know, I know… I ignore you for weeks on end and then I post twice in one day. What is up with that? You’ve just got to ride the wave when it comes, people.

Anyway, remember how pregnancy rendered me mentally unfit to operate the fax machine at my office a couple of months ago? Well, today my dizzying intellect appears to have progressed to a new and disturbing low. I went to Subway at lunch to pick up a sandwich. In the three minutes I was in there, I did the following:

Searched my purse frantically for my keys, panicking that I had lost them or something, all the while not realizing I was actually CLUTCHING THEM IN MY LEFT HAND the whole time.
Forgot where I had parked. I scanned the parking lot for a full 30 seconds before I found my car. Right where I had left it.

Did I mention that these two things happened within three minutes of my arrival? Hi.

Note to self: retract Mensa application.

looks like a pump, feels like a sneaker

2007-12-17T10:05:00.000-08:00

So the other day I was in Macy’s doing some Christmas shopping. Like a moth to the flame, I was compelled to wander by the sale shoe racks. I was drawn to a particular pair of shoes. They were black, with a bit of a platform and a chunky high heel. I tried them on: were they cute? Check. Were they comfortable? Check. I looked at the inside of the shoe and couldn’t tell what brand they were – all I could see was a small lower case “e” printed on the footbed. I flipped the shoe over and saw the verdict:

They were Easy Spirits.

I recoiled in horror, but then wondered: is 34 the age when you are supposed to start wearing shoes like this? Was this final proof of my mom status? What’s next… NATURALIZER????

In the end, I got over it. I decided they would be cute with jeans and a black sweater so I went for it. I had made peace with my decision and then was thrown into a shame spiral once again when my husband saw the shoebox on our bed and said with a confused look on his face, “Did you buy a pair of Easy Spirits? Nice!”

So now I need you to decide. As demonstrated in the two photos above, I am wearing them to work today. Are these actually cute or am a) kidding myself, or b) possibly channeling 1996?

And whatever the answer, I think I’m OK with it. It’s like I’m wearing slippers! Honestly! Go out and buy a pair today!

you can’t stop him, you can only hope to contain him

2007-11-27T13:02:00.001-08:00

This is what’s known in the industry as a “Christmas card photo shoot gone wrong.” On Thanksgiving we took about 8 million pictures like this one and in EVERY SINGLE ONE, either Evan is running away or someone is not looking at the camera or has a weird look on their face (and let’s face it, that person is usually me).

Once there are four of us, I’m sure we will be even less capable of taking group photographs.

pants emergency

2007-11-26T10:53:00.000-08:00

Being pregnant is no picnic, let me tell you what. There are random aches and pains, it’s difficult to find a comfortable sleeping position, you’re constantly getting kicked in the innards, you have to choke down horse-sized vitamins and you are unable to enjoy a cocktail or glass of wine on Thanksgiving. But my chief complaint can be summed up as follows:

Ill-fitting pants.

Yes, that’s right. Ill-fitting pants, or IFPs, are by far the MOST annoying thing about being pregnant. Trust me, I’ve tried all the options. The demi panel, the low-rise, below-the-belly pants, the non-maternity pants in bigger sizes, the full panel with the giant pouch to accommodate the bowling ball that I’ve apparently swallowed. At this point, everything sags. It’s simple gravity. I hike up my IFPs all. the. time. When I get up from my chair. When I walk two steps. After I’ve grunted attractively trying to pick something up off the floor. The pants-hiking is driving me completely crazy. I’ve come to embrace the concept that the full panel style, however repugnant to me fashion-wise, is probably the most comfortable option right now because it resists the pull of gravity by anchoring above the belly instead of below. But it’s ugly! And it kind of bisects my abdomen in an annoying way!

Yesterday I got so fed up with all my uncomfortable pants that I declared a state of emergency. As soon as Evan went down for his nap, I headed out to the mall to see if I could find an alternative to wearing sweats to work.

Ladies and gentlemen, I located a life-changing pair of pants. They have what’s called a roll panel – so you can roll it down or wear it over the belly. But otherwise, they appear to the naked eye to be normal, reasonably stylish tan pants with a nice long boot-cut leg. And they are seriously comfortable. What up, The Gap? I love you, man. I mean, I hate you in normal times and had sworn off your pants for life, but maybe we can make a fresh start. I'm willing to give this one more shot if you are. Please take me back? Maybe we can just be friends right now until I've earned back your trust.

The long and short of it is that I may very well be sleeping in these bad boys tonight. And even if I don’t, my co-workers will be mighty sick of these in two months.

And that is what I am belatedly thankful for this holiday season.

at 32 months

2007-11-20T15:25:00.000-08:00

His smile is infectious and his enthusiasm unbridled. He is independent and wants to do everything all by himself: climb in the car, peel bananas, turn on lights, close doors. His words take my breath away on a daily basis:

“You’re my best friend, Mommy,” he said the other day, completely unprompted.

He answers “Of course!” when I ask him for a small favor.

And the other day at the pool, we got into the hot tub for a few minutes and he announced “It’s an octagon!” I counted up the sides and sure enough, it was.

It blew my mind. I know every mother must say this, but I am constantly amazed by his intelligence.

He speaks in full sentences, knows every letter of the alphabet, has memorized page after page of the books we read him at night. His dad takes him to Starbucks early Saturday mornings, and when he hears them call “Grande Americano,” he says, “Daddy, your coffee’s ready!”

Everything he observes is a cause for celebration. Seeing a crab at the beach, or a bird flying overhead, or an airplane taking off – he can't contain his excitement. He literally insists on stopping to smell the flowers on our way out to the preschool parking lot. “Should we smell the flowers, Mommy?” he asks. I know the right answer.

I’ve said it before, but I really never used to be much of a kid person. I’m converted. I’m a “my kid” person. But now, I’d probably really like your kids too, now that my eyes have been opened.

I wanted to write this because I felt like my last few posts were whiny and filled with complaints about tantrums and typical toddler disagreeable behavior. I felt like I really needed to set the record straight and talk about the positives.

When I think about all the changes that the last 32 months have brought, I almost panic. I think oh no, it’s been close to three years. A few more of those chunks of time and he’ll be learning to drive and graduating from high school, not just eating with an adult-sized fork. That’s when I know he’s got it right.

Stopping to smell the sweet white flowers outside preschool is always the right thing to do.

real-life conversations with a two-year old

2007-11-05T10:17:00.000-08:00

Below is an almost verbatim transcript of a few of the exchanges Evan and I enjoyed on the way to preschool today.

*******************
Him: “What time is it, Mommy?”

Me: “It’s 7:51.”

Him: “It’s NOT 7:51!”

*******************
Me: “Look, it’s really foggy outside today.”

Him: “No, it’s NOT really foggy outside.”

*******************
Him: “Can I hold my lunchbox?”

Me: “Sure. Just don’t unzip it please.”

(I instantly hear unzipping noises)

Me: “Please don’t open your lunch right now.”

Him: “I’m NOT opening my lunch!”

*******************

If I didn’t laugh about this? I WOULD CRY.

greetings from the land of smoke and fire

2007-10-25T15:12:00.000-07:00

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know all of Southern California is aflame. Everyone in my family has been affected somehow – from preparing to evacuate their homes to needing to evacuate their homes to having school/work/everything cancelled all week long. Everyone is fine at this point, but it’s crazy. And the air! The thick, orange-gray smoky air… breathing it is a chore. Every morning I walk outside to my car and it’s covered with a layer of white ash.

A couple of days ago, I came to the realization that the costume we had picked out for Evan over a month ago – a firefighter – now seemed in poor taste. So yesterday I went over to Party City and bought a substitute. I didn’t want people thinking we were somehow making light of the situation. Now he’s going to be James, Thomas’ the Tank Engine’s vain red friend. What could be more harmless? It’s kind of a silly costume, but he seems into it.

In other news, my placenta and I don’t seem to be getting along very well. Now how’s THAT for a segue? Come to think of it, my placenta and I have never been BFFs. Last time, I had a retained placenta that took an act of God, a lot of tugging and a sharp instrument to remove. This time, I have a marginal placenta previa that we are hoping will resolve itself within the next four weeks (according to my doctor, it should). But in the meantime, my evil placenta is um, causing some symptoms that I, um, find unpleasant, resulting in me consulting multiple nurses and doctors both on the phone and in person several times since last Friday. I’m sure everything will be fine, but maybe just send some positive placental vibrations my way, would you?

My placenta and I will update you soon. Stay safe, and don’t breathe that smoky air.

I think I can, I think I can

2007-10-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

What is the deal with this week? It is quite possibly the longest work week EVER. Maybe because I have been dragging myself through it in a feverish haze of coughing and hacking, spreading love, joy peace and bacteria to everyone in my office. (They love me, really they do.)

Being sick is no fun, but being sick when you are pregnant is even less fun because all the good drugs are off-limits. The books say things like “get plenty of rest” and “gargle with hot salt water,” and let me tell you: not going to happen. What I really need is a double dose of Nyquil and the ability to sleep past 6:30 a.m. without hearing a little piping voice that says “Mommy, please come get me!” in escalating whiny volume until I have no choice but to stumble out of my bed and comply.

There I go complaining again. It’s a wonder you people put up with me. Well, here’s something: I’m happy that today is Friday, that despite my ongoing plague that I seem to be having a good hair day, and that I think I just saw a Krispy Kreme box walk by my office. Oh, and I am also grateful for your understanding responses to my last post. It's good to hear that perhaps I am not a raving lunatic mother after all. Well, not most of the time anyway.

Gotta go find those doughnuts! Have a great weekend.

patience

2007-10-12T13:22:00.000-07:00

I’m sorry to keep harping on the tantrum thing. Of late it’s become somewhat of a pattern: he wants to keep doing what he’s doing; he insists on doing everything “all by myself”; I tell him it’s time to do X and he decides he’d rather do Y.

Before these tantrums started in earnest (say, three or four months ago), I had nearly broken my arm patting myself on the back for having the patience of a saint with my toddler. Me, a notoriously impatient person! I could handle this mothering-a-two-year-old thing with aplomb, without losing my cool. As all the books and experts tell you to do, I would give him a choice of two things, he would choose one and we moved on. To my surprise, this technique worked for a long time.

But the game has changed. On Tuesday, he will officially be two and a half years old. He’s smart. He’s fiercely independent. And he knows how to push my buttons mercilessly. He’s got my number, all right, and the patience I thought I had seems to have evaporated overnight. The other day I lost my temper with him and yelled and swatted at him in the car. Shaking and near tears, I apologized, hoping that the tantrum I'd just thrown in response to his hadn’t scared him or lost his trust.

A good friend of mine says it’s good sometimes for them to see that we have limits too. I don’t know. I’m not sure what it is about having a child, but everything you thought you wouldn’t tolerate, everything you thought your child would never do, comes back to you in spades. It’s a lesson in control for both of us. Sometimes I can’t control the situation, or his behavior, and it scares me. Sometimes he can’t control the situation and he lashes out, angry and frustrated, wanting to do something by himself or on his timetable, and I can’t let him.

There’s where I can see common ground. It’s just being human. We like to know what’s happening to us, to be aware and in control and if that is taken away from us it’s frightening. When I step back, I recognize and understand how he feels. And it always passes.

This morning we were again at an impasse. It was time to leave for preschool and he wanted to play in the house with his trains. I could see him start to get upset and knew what was coming. Sure enough, two minutes passed and we were in full tantrum mode. This time I did keep my cool, but still had to force him into his car seat. Once we were on the road this time, I only had to endure a couple of minutes of yelling until he stopped and asked me quietly “Mommy, did you lose your temper?”

I said “No, honey, but you lost yours.” He sniffled and said haltingly “I’m sorry Mommy.” Then he asked “do you love me?”

That was the sound of my heart shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. The fact that my baby could formulate a question like that blew my mind. He is full of questions these days: what is that? Why did you say that? Please can I have this? Many times, he already knows the answer before he asks. I told him, over and over again, that I loved him, praying that this was one of those times.

a few reasons why this week is not shaping up to be as awesome as I’d hoped:

2007-10-11T11:44:00.000-07:00

Pink eye (Evan’s)
Sore throat (mine)
Sneezing (both)
More tantrums on the way to school (both)
Middle-of-the-night wake-ups (Evan’s, and therefore also mine)
Saggy maternity jeans (um, guess who?)

And this morning? I drank a cup of non-decaffeinated coffee and I don’t feel guilty about it at all. In your face, What to Expect When You’re Expecting! I just wish I had some cookies to go with it, like Swistle. That would have made the whole thing even better. Now where can I get some cookies?

redemption

2007-10-05T14:48:00.000-07:00

Well, after the Raging Tantrum from Hell’s Depths on Wednesday morning, things picked up. It’s always darkest before the dawn, if I could borrow a hideously clichéd expression. Hi, I am literarily uncreative today. But anyway, on Wednesday evening I went to pick Evan up from preschool. He ran toward me and gave me a big hug, chattered my ear off all the way home, and then, best of all… when my husband was holding him later that evening, he pointed at me and said “That’s my friend Mommy.” Then, pointing back at his dad, “That’s my friend Daddy.” And then once more, smiling at both of us, “There’s my friends Mommy and Daddy!”

Which just goes to prove my ongoing theory: just as you’re about ready to sell him to the gypsies, your child will do something so charming, so irresistible that you realize you were not, in fact, crazy when you decided to have him in the first place.

I guess I can stop drafting that notice for Craigslist now.

defeated

2007-10-03T09:51:00.000-07:00

This morning I had what was possibly the worst single 15-minute span in my mothering career. All was well at the house until I needed to get Evan in the car to take him to preschool. I cleaned him up from breakfast, put on his shoes and brushed his hair. He wanted to play with his trains, so I let him for a few minutes while I finished getting ready. Then, I told him we needed to go get in the car. He said no. I gave him some options; did he want to walk out to the car by himself or did he want me to carry him? Again, no, he wanted to play with his trains. When it became clear that there was no way he was going willingly, I picked him up and brought him out to the car.

He stiffened his entire body and wailed in protest while I had to physically muscle him into his car seat. He kicked and cried but there was nothing I could do but just buckle him in. Of course, this is when several neighbors happened to be walking by my driveway on their way home from taking their kids to school. I gave them the sheepish “kids will be kids!” smile and they looked sympathetic.

After I finally got him in, the real problems began. He cried and screamed and raged. He kicked the back of my seat repeatedly. I knew there was nothing I could say to make it stop – it was a tantrum, pure and simple, and he needed a little alone time to let it run its course. I was as much his captive as he was mine. As I drove to the school, the traffic was awful and I had to stop at what seemed like every red light. Meanwhile, my seat is vibrating from the kicking and my ears are ringing from the screaming. I turned up the radio, and it drowned out nothing.

He was yelling that he wanted to go back home, that he wanted to play with trains, that he didn’t want me to get him in the car.

Hot tears were rising in my eyes and a lump in my throat. The screaming was getting to me. I was getting angry with him for making me miserable, at myself for not knowing how better to handle it, at the cars around me for driving too slowly.

Ten minutes into the drive, he started calming down. “Mommy, hold me,” he said. I told him as soon as we got there I’d hold him.

When we finally arrived, he actually had a smile on his face and showed no evidence of the tantrum. I, on the other hand, was red-eyed and tense from clenching my jaw and neck while I drove.

We got out of the car and I held him for a minute. I told him he needed to apologize for having a tantrum and behaving that way in the car. “I’m sorry, Mommy,“ he said, and then told me he wanted to carry his lunchbox. I handed it to him and he happily walked into school…until it was time to put the lunchbox away in his cubby. I told him we needed to put it down so he could go out to the playground. He refused and I could see the relapse coming. I finally had to take it out of his hand and walk him outside. He cried and cried and cried some more. At that point, I was late for work and had no choice but to hand over my screaming child to the teachers and walk away.

I walked out of there with tears in my eyes again, feeling like a horrible mother. I’m bigger than he is, but many times, not more powerful.

I can name that baby in two notes!

2007-10-02T10:43:00.000-07:00

Now that we know it’s a girl, we are struggling with names. We had all but agreed on a boy’s name that we loved (Seth) but are having a much harder time settling on a favorite girl name. We seem to be leaning toward girl names that are actually boy names (Dylan, Rowan, Elliott) but pairing them with an uber-feminine middle name (like Grace). I don’t know, I’m sure we’ll waffle many more times before settling on something we both agree on… like Gertrude! Or Mildred! Or Hettie!*

But seriously… it’s really hard to come up with names that are unique, yet not bizarrely weird. Speaking of bizarre, I was flipping through a baby name book last night and was alarmed to find the following names listed for girls:

Beige-Dawn
Dusky-Dream

Really? Beige-Dawn? Dusky-Dream? I promise you that I am not making this up. In the name of all that is holy, I could not imagine ANYONE seeing either of those two names in the book and saying “Aha! This is it! She will heretofore be known as Beige-Dawn.” In my dreams, dusky or otherwise, my daughter does not have a hyphenated first name that meshes together a time of the day with a color.

But anyway: what girl names do you like? Do tell…

*no offense to the many Gertrudes, Mildreds and Hetties who I am sure frequent this blog.

drumroll please...

2007-09-24T13:20:00.000-07:00

On Friday, we found out that it's a GIRL!!!

Let the name negotiations begin! :)

lyrical

2007-09-17T12:27:00.000-07:00

The problem with having a toddler who is obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine (other than the fact that the Thomas trains and accessories are criminally expensive) is that the songs from the videos are so damn catchy. I find myself constantly humming and singing them at inappropriate moments. At work! In meetings! Driving in the car! Conversing with my husband!

Last week’s offering was:

“Whatever we do, we do it well
Because we all deciiiiiiiiiiiiiiide
To do each job we’re told to do
With care, with love, with priiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide…”

(repeat ad nauseam)

This week, I’m blessed with the following little ditty stuck on an endless loop in my head:

“There’s no one quite like Emily
Friendly emerald Emily…”

That’s it! I know there are more lyrics but that’s all I can remember. It is currently cycling over, and over, and over, and over again in my head. Now, if the only food available to me was black licorice jelly beans and I was surrounded by people doing crossword puzzles in pencil, I would know I was in hell.

in which I expose my mental deficiency to the internet

2007-09-06T16:53:00.000-07:00

So far, during each of my two pregnancies, I have had one defining moment of ridiculously embarrassing “baby brain” – where gestating a fetus makes you not only fat and hungry, it also appears to drain mental resources to an alarmingly low level.

When I was pregnant with Evan, I came into work one morning and needed to edit a document. I completely forgot where to find the Track Changes feature in Microsoft Word. I looked high and low and became irrationally irritated that I could not find Track Changes under the Edit menu. Hello, I would like to edit this document. I would also like to track my edits. Why, for the love of all things holy would it not be under the Edit menu?

After ten minutes of searching, I found it.

Under the Tools menu.

Where it had clearly lived all along, and somehow my brain – despite having edited Microsoft Word documents pretty much on a daily basis since, I don’t know, 1995 – could not retain this information.

Well, my friends, today it got worse. I have been very annoyed lately with the company who manages my flexible spending account. I had faxed them a claim form almost a month ago and still hadn’t received payment. Last week, I called to inquire as to why that was. The woman on the phone couldn’t find it in the system, so she asked me to fax it to her again directly and said she’d call me when she received it to confirm that she was putting it in for processing. Today, I realized that I had never heard from her so I called back ready to do battle. I was prepared, filled with righteous indignation and ready to get all up in her business about their poor customer service.

When I got her on the phone, she again told me that she had not received my fax. My irritation level was reaching an all-time high. Then she asked me what area code I had sent it from. I told her and she shuffled some papers around. She said “hmmm, that’s interesting because I did receive a fax from that exact same area code with five blank pages.” She asked me to fax it again. I reluctantly agreed.

Puzzled, I walked outside my office and asked my assistant, “Hey, you know that new fax machine? You’re supposed to put the papers in upside down, right?” She looked at me funny and shook her head no.

Yes, that’s right. I had faxed her five blank pages, TWICE. Because I could not remember how to operate the fax machine.

For now, my baby brain appears confined to forgetting how to operate basic office equipment. Stay tuned for next week, when I may gaze wonderingly at my stapler and wonder what it’s for.

are you dizzy with anticipation, or is it just me?

2007-09-05T13:17:00.000-07:00

What is up with my prolonged absences? Are there still people out there reading this? If so, wow. God bless you underappreciated gluttons for punishment for continuing to check my blog. I love you, truly I do.

Remember how I told you I was traveling for business a couple of weeks ago? Well, it was the trip from hell. FROM HELL. Let me tell you the many reasons why. First, my trip to Ohio, by way of the always-convenient O’Hare airport, was extended because our flight from Chicago to Columbus was cancelled. Since I couldn’t get on another flight that night on any airline from O’Hare, my only option was to take a $65 cab to Midway airport and take a Southwest flight from there. We ended up arriving, oh, about five hours later than planned.

Then, on my second day in Ohio, I woke up terribly dizzy and had the lovely experience of running out of an important business meeting to hurl. After that I felt better. I was still dizzy, but maintaining. I figured the dizziness must be pregnancy-related and figured I’d just ask my doctor about it at my next appointment, which was scheduled for the day after I got back.

The next day I was happy to be on my way home. Still dizzy, but happy that I would soon be back in great California weather instead of in the humid thunderous Midwest. Things had to be looking up. BUT NO.

This time, I was routed through Dallas. Upon arriving at DFW, my connecting flight was, guess what, CANCELLED. Again. I got on another flight scheduled to take off three hours later, which meant that I could now complete my tour of America’s airports, read every magazine published in the month of August and eat another meal at McDonalds.

I finally got home Thursday afternoon. In case you’re counting: still dizzy.

When I woke up Friday morning, I could not even focus my eyes, so fast was the world spinning around me. I was so dizzy I couldn’t keep food down. I threw up six times in an hour and a half. I had my OB appointment that morning and somehow got dressed and drove myself there. Possibly at great risk to myself and every other driver on the road.

My doctor took one look at me and said I needed to go to the ER for IV fluids. I’m not sure if it was the sunken eyes, the broken blood vessels all over my face from the violent vomiting, or what, but she knew I was not well and needed to be rehydrated.

I spent all day at the ER hooked up to the fluids. The only way I felt even remotely ok was if I was lying completely still and not moving my head. Finally after all the tests had been run, they told me I had vertigo probably caused by an inner ear infection (and also a bladder infection, but that was just an extra bonus). They gave me antibiotics, anti-nausea medicine and a prescription for Antivert, a drug that is supposed to make you less dizzy but that I subsequently learned is the most ineffective medication ever manufactured. They said the dizziness would eventually go away but that I would probably be pretty non-functional for a few days.

That turned out to be the understatement of the year. “Non-functional” hardly comes close to describing my condition over the next few days. I lay still on my bed or on the couch, being waited on hand and foot by my husband and the parade of family members who came over to help with Evan and heat up soup for me. I had a hard time reading or watching TV even, because I couldn’t focus my eyes and the room spun around like crazy.

Finally after three days, I could sit up for longer periods of time and walk around the house some. I looked like a drunk person, but I was moving. I still was afraid to drive or take a shower (so you could imagine I was looking GOOD). I had to stay home from work all of last week as I recovered. I did not leave my house for a solid week.

Finally my doctor referred me to an ear, nose and throat specialist and I got in to see him last Friday afternoon. By then I was still dizzy, but much more functional. I believe at that point I actually attempted to apply concealer to my face before leaving the house. Trust me, it was a big step.

The ENT did all sorts of tests and told me that I have labyrinthitis in my right ear. In layman’s terms, this is an inflammation of your inner ear that is often caused by a virus. He asked me if I had recently had a cold. Check! Yep, I had a cold after Evan got croup. Then, I flew, which didn’t help. The frustrating thing about this condition is that it just takes time to resolve itself. Your brain eventually figures out how to compensate so that the vertigo goes away – but it usually takes weeks.

Today is exactly two weeks from the day I woke up dizzy in Ohio. I’m much better now, but still often walk like a drunk person and have to lean against the wall in the shower so I don’t fall down. But let me tell you, I will never again take for granted the gift of balance. The day I wake up with no dizziness will be a cause for celebration! I will get there.

In the meantime, you’ve got to hand it to me, that’s a pretty good excuse for a lack of posting. :)

growing out

2007-08-17T11:09:00.000-07:00

What up, peeps? Long time no see! Yeeeeeeah, well, I’ve been a tad bit busy this week with presentations, work meetings that last until 7 pm, then dinner out with girlfriends the next night until 9 pm… and then when I am actually home, falling asleep on the couch reliably every night promptly at 8:45 pm. I am awesome to be around lately.

So how is the pregnancy going? … you may ask. Well, except for the fact that MY PANTS DO NOT FIT at 15 weeks along (depressing depressing depressing), and the falling asleep on the couch every night, I have forgotten on more than one occasion that I am even pregnant at all. I know that sounds weird, but I just don’t have time to think about it this time around. So, I guess that means I’m feeling OK. Really, I can’t complain. Except in the case of my business trip next week, where I will be complaining constantly about being hungry/thirsty/tired. So who wants to travel with me? Remember, I am awesome fun.

Speaking of traveling… who has a book recommendation? I desperately need something good to read on the plane to take my mind off the discomfort I will surely be subjecting myself to in ill-fitting pants and a cramped airplane seat. Help a gal out.

If you’re lucky, I’ll post again sometime in the next few days to fill you in on the ongoing rat situation in our backyard. Just a little treat for y'all.

les miserables

2007-08-06T16:20:00.000-07:00

Here are five reasons why I’m starting out the second of two pretty crappy weeks:

Evan had croup last week and stayed home for three days feeling terrible and sounding like a pack-a-day smoker.
Now both Dave and I both have colds that we got from him (shaking fist violently at new preschool).
You-know-who has stepped up the climbing out of bed routine, rendering us unable to sleep off our colds.
In my current state, I can’t take any cold medicine that will do anything (shaking fist violently at the U.S. Food & Drug Administration).
I just found out that I have to travel for work in two weeks. Pregnancy + unhealthy airport food + airplane travel = unhappy Bearca.

On the plus side, I seem to have rediscovered my love of Rice Krispies. Odd, I know. But delicious.

evan’s seventh heaven

2007-07-30T15:15:00.000-07:00

I have to say, this climbing out of the crib thing has been much less of an issue than I originally thought. What’s that banging noise? Why, it’s the sound of me wildly knocking on every wooden surface within reach, of course! But other than that first night, it’s been fairly smooth. Evan’s been going down easy and sleeping at least most of the night without getting up. The last three nights, we haven’t had any wake-ups at all. Whew.

Part of our recent success is due to the fact that we told him if he stayed in his bed all night, we would take him to the golf course. Loosely translated, that means we would take him to a putting green and he could walk around holding various golf balls and using his tiny putter to knock them into the holes from one inch away (he likes to stack the odds in his favor). Have I mentioned his obsession with golf? It is strong. He is always holding a golf ball, sleeping with a golf ball in his hand or talking about playing golf. “I hit golf with Daddy!” is one of his favorite phrases.

So, Saturday morning he woke up after having slept in his bed all night without climbing out. We made a big deal out of it and told him we were going to the golf course right away. By 7:00 a.m., we were at the putting green and Evan was in action, “putting” using his own unique toddler style that more closely resembles shuffleboard than golf. He loved it. It was so much fun that we did it again on Sunday afternoon after yet another night of sleeping in his bed all night. Success!

In other news, I WAS RIGHT. Our current pest infestation is rats… not mice. There are two rat carcasses out there in my yard and the pest control company is coming tomorrow to dispose of them and replace the traps. I could not be more horrified. Ew. Ew. Ew. I know that those of you who know me in person will never again want to come over to my house but I assure you that if you are brave enough to chance it, you can have a golf lesson taught by my own in-house golf prodigy. Plus, I only serve the good wine.

sometimes, life is rough, and you've just gotta have a fudgsicle.

2007-07-24T11:44:00.001-07:00

if there was ever a day where I needed caffeine, today was it.

2007-07-23T16:08:00.000-07:00

My weekend can best be expressed chronologically in three short sentences:

Evan can climb out of a pack & play.
We have rats.
Evan can climb out of his crib.

As I’m sure is obvious, it was a phenomenal weekend. We went down to my parents’ house for a visit on Saturday night and when we put Evan down to bed in his pack & play, he nonchalantly walked out of the room .06 seconds later clutching his blanket. He was quite pleased with himself. Needless to say, we were not. After several gettings-up and puttings-back-down, we decided that the issue was that the pack & play was too close to the bed, which he was using to vault himself easily out. We fixed that, then he fell asleep and we didn’t see him again until Sunday morning. We thought our problems were solved.

Until “nap time” on Sunday. I use quotes because there was no nap to be had. I put him down, he got back up. I put him down, he got back up. I put him down, he got back up. Ad nauseam. Finally, I gave up in extreme frustration… after all, we were at Grandma’s house and sometimes we let things slide. My husband, ever the optimist, thought that he wouldn’t try to do it at home. I was hopeful.

So, after a napless afternoon, followed by a massively shocking tantrum brought on by said naplessness, he fell asleep for an hour. At 4 pm. Not helpful! Once he woke up, we drove home.

Once we arrived home, I spent the first few minutes cleaning up some things we had left out, straightening up and taking out the trash. Now, we have seen some mysterious animal droppings outside by our trash cans recently, but so far have never spied the animal(s) who left it. When I opened the trash can to drop the bag in, I saw some furtive scurrying. I didn’t get a good look, but the shape and size of the scurrier said one thing to me: RAT. Horrified, I quickly threw the trash into the can and ran back into the house. My heart was pounding.

I was trying to calm myself down but the heebie-jeebies were getting the best of me. After a few minutes I told my husband what I had seen. He worked up the courage to go out there and check it out but didn’t see anything. We decided that the only option is to call the pest control company and get them to come out ASAP.

With nothing more we could do on the rodent situation, we turned our attention to getting Evan fed and bathed. Fortunately, he was really tired and didn’t take long to fall asleep. We thought for sure we were in the clear. We turned in around 10 pm and fell asleep. Then, at 12:49 a.m., I woke up to the sound of small footsteps and saw Evan standing there saying “want to get in Daddy’s bed.” After some stops and starts, we decided the best course of action was to not talk to him or engage with him, but to take him right back to his bed every time he got up. We did that about 10-15 more times and then he cried for a couple of minutes and fell asleep. Victory. (Sort of.) But I’m sure the two hours he spent awake in the middle of the night are not helping his attitude and behavior today.

And did I mention that today is his first day at his new preschool? When it rains, it pours.

i'm blowing up like a balloon over here

2007-07-19T11:08:00.000-07:00

I’m having a hard time getting back into the swing of things after coming home from the trip on Monday night. I’m all discombobulated… laundry isn’t done, house is in disarray… but I can’t bring myself to care or really do much about it.

What I do care about is how shocking it is that at only 11 weeks pregnant, I look like I did at 18 weeks last time. My belly is totally out of control and it’s becoming a problem. I was counting on being able to stay in regular pants for a few weeks to come but alarmingly, it looks like that won’t be possible. Today, I’m wearing a pair of “transitional jeans” that I bought a few weeks after Evan was born. I’m worried that they are a short-term stopgap. Where, oh where can I find cute maternity jeans that will not cost me $200? Help meeeeeeeee!

I told a bunch of people at work the big news yesterday. It feels good to have the secret out. And now I can resume my constant snacking on a slightly less furtive basis.

i know she is resting in peace

2007-07-17T14:01:00.000-07:00

I got some bad news last Wednesday when I found out that my grandma died. She was my mom’s mom and the only grandparent I’ve ever known. We left on Saturday to go to Missouri for the funeral, and just got back last night. I’m exhausted today.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it’s still sad. I am sorry that she never got the chance to meet Evan, and that we didn’t visit very often because of the distance, and that I hadn’t seen her more recently when she passed away.

I realized how much it means to people when you recognize their loss. Sometimes you think it won’t make a difference, because they must have been getting so many comments and hugs and notes from other people… but they notice. My office sent flowers to the funeral home, which I found unexpectedly touching. Then, one of the pallbearers came up to me after the graveside service and asked me if I was her granddaughter. When I said yes, he shook my hand warmly and said with tears in his eyes, “She was a really great lady.”

I was so comforted knowing that she had been surrounded by people who knew and loved her. To me, she was always a somewhat distant figure because of the geography. I knew she loved us. I knew that based on the times we did see her, how she would struggle to hold back tears when we left. And because of how even when she was in her nursing home and not feeling well, that she would look at pictures of Evan and they always made her smile.

On the plus side (if there can be a plus side), there was plenty of family time and good home cooking. Honestly, when was the last time I ate fried chicken, creamed corn and mashed potato and bacon casserole - all in the same meal? My Ozark relatives sure know what’s up when it comes to comfort food. However, I saw about 300% more men wearing overalls than I have ever seen here.

When we drove from Southern Missouri back to St. Louis to catch our flight yesterday, I looked out and tried to soak up the rolling green Ozark hills, the tractors, the small towns and even the men wearing overalls, knowing that I might never be back there again.

sweet relief

2007-07-10T15:52:00.000-07:00

I can’t tell you how much better I feel knowing that you all know what I know. The secret-keeping, it was killing me. Whoorl was the only one who knew my secret because when she and I met, we had been planning to go out for martinis for weeks. Having just found out the news two days before we met up, there was no way I could show up at the bar and just pretend that I suddenly didn’t feel like drinking a martini. “Oh, no, vodka-soaked olives sound absolutely DREADFUL right now, I’ll just have a club soda.” Uh, yeah. Not very in character. So, I greeted her and immediately spilled the beans.

I’ve been feeling pretty good. I had a couple of queasy weeks, just like I did the last time, but it seems to be dissipating nicely now that I’m almost 10 weeks along. Even two weeks of minor queasiness makes you feel miserable. I can’t imagine how people with severe nausea cope with it. I would die. As it is, I’m just fine as long as I eat all the time. My key to pregnancy happiness involves multiple breakfasts, at least one of which MUST involve bacon. What can I say, I’ve gotta have the bacon.

In other news, I found a preschool for Evan, and he starts there in a couple of weeks. THAT was stressful. Next on my stress list? Potty training, and moving him into a big bed so the crib will be available for the baby. If I had my way, I’d have him sleep in a crib forever. There’s something to be said for the containment. It comforts me.

2007-07-09T16:34:00.000-07:00

OK, so I disappeared off the face of the earth for a while. There's a good reason for it. And I really wanted to title this post "pregnant pause," but for some highly annoying reason, Blogger won't let me add a title. Grrr.

But anyway, yes! That's right: I'm pregnant!

I was all stressed out about saying anything too early, and then I couldn't really imagine continuing to blog about a bunch of other things when I had this very exciting news, and so finally I decided that going public was the right thing to do.

So yay. It's happening. Due date is in early February and we couldn't be happier!

toxic

2007-06-20T09:20:00.000-07:00

This week = currently kicking my ass. For one, we found out that our daycare provider is moving. She’s moving juuuuust far away enough to make it entirely impractical for us to continue taking Evan there. Thus, I’ve been thrown into a tailspin of stress and preschool tour chaos. Good times.

Then, this morning, we went in to get Evan after he had been awake for about 15 minutes. Lately, he’s taken to telling us when he needs his diaper changed (yep, that means he’s getting close to potty training!). He’ll say “need to change diapers” and hold his arms up waiting for you to pick him up and do what needs to be done. For some reason, despite the fact that we knew this, we heard him wake up and just let him hang out for a few while we ate breakfast. Big mistake. By the time we got up there to get him, you could smell the carnage OUTSIDE HIS BEDROOM DOOR. I knew this was a bad sign.

And I was not wrong. He had taken off his pants and sitting in his crib saying pitifully “need to change diapers.” Um, yeah, you think? Fortunately he hadn’t removed his diaper, but let’s just say that nothing was unscathed. There was a containment issue. We had to immediately remove everything from the crib – blankets, pajamas, sheet, mattress pad – and dump it all into the wash.

Not a very good start to the day, but fitting for the week I'm having.

i've got nothin'

2007-06-15T14:46:00.001-07:00

I am SO glad it’s Friday. This has been the longest week in history. We are starting swimming lessons with Evan tomorrow and I can’t wait! He enjoyed them last summer, so hopefully he’ll remember how fun it was and not freak out at the sight of a gigantic swimming pool. You never really know though. Then, we’re going to a kid’s birthday party tomorrow afternoon, and on Sunday, we are having my family over for a Father’s Day barbecue bash. Good times.

Such is the excitement of my life right now. Oh, and yesterday, our housekeeper came, which is license enough to order takeout for at least a couple of nights. You know, don’t want to mess up that clean kitchen!

Yeah well. Like I said, I’ve got nothin’. Have a great weekend…

you win some, you lose some

2007-06-12T15:04:00.000-07:00

This morning we were back to some flagrant two year-old behavior. We took Evan to Toys-R-Us over the weekend and bought him some new things to play with. He fell in love with a three-pack of mini monster trucks and immediately adopted one of them as his current favorite toy. It’s a neon green monster truck with giant wheels, a skull and the name “Grave Digger” emblazoned on the side (what, doesn’t everyone want their toddler playing with the Grave Digger?). He’s named this vehicle “Aunt Ryann’s Truck.” For the record, there is an Aunt Ryann, but she drives a blue Jeep. And no, it does not have a skull. So we’re not exactly sure where this specific nomenclature came from. Anyway, he gets really upset if Aunt Ryann’s Truck is not within sight. At all times.

So this morning we were happily driving to daycare until he spied Aunt Ryann’s Truck sitting on the seat just out of reach. Since we were only about two minutes from our destination, AND we aren’t allowed to bring toys from home to daycare, I knew that giving him the truck would be a total disaster. Until I parked the car, I heard nothing but “want Aunt Ryann’s Truuuuuuuck!” Then it went from bad to worse. I went to unbuckle his car seat and he grabbed the sides of his car seat and wouldn’t let go. Tears poured out of his eyes. I finally pried his hands free and muscled him out of the car. Man, if physically yanking your kid out of the car doesn’t make you feel like mother of the year, I don’t know what does.

He cried all the way into the house, pleading for the truck. I couldn’t find anything to distract him from his wailing. Finally, I had to give him a big hug and just leave him there so I could go to work.

Two year-olds. Charming? Most of the time. Rational? Not so much.

example

2007-06-11T10:25:00.000-07:00

I often think to myself that it’s lucky that toddlers are as charming as they are because the frequent funny or endearing moments put the challenging times in perspective. Something happened this weekend that illustrated that better than I could ever explain.

Yesterday, Evan was in his high chair eating lunch. Dave was sitting at our kitchen island hunched over his laptop and I walked over and put my arms around him from behind. A few seconds later, Evan piped up.

“Want a hug too,” he said in the clearest, sweetest voice.

Dave and I looked at each other, then at Evan. Tears immediately welled up in my eyes when I saw his little face looking over at us. I went over and hugged as much of him as I could grab hold of and kissed his cheek. I stepped back and then heard the voice again.

“Daddy kiss too,” Evan said.

Dave promptly got up and went over to kiss him also. This went on for a few more minutes as he traded off requests: “Mommy kiss too…” “Daddy kiss too…,” clearly happy that we were doing what he asked.

It just made me realize - again - that this little person watches everything we do and hears everything we say. I am far from a perfect mother, but please, God, let me be an example to be proud of.

nice hat

2007-06-07T11:38:00.000-07:00

Last night we went to our next-door neighbors’ house to watch the last game of the Stanley Cup finals. They have two little boys and a putting green in their backyard, so Evan is in heaven every time we go over there.

Everything was going great until I walked by the door to the backyard and saw Evan knock over the dog’s water bowl all over his shoes. After I had cleaned that up, I went back in for a few minutes, until I glanced outside again and saw him prancing around the backyard with THE DOG’S WATER BOWL ON HIS HEAD. Yes, he thought the water bowl made a fine hat.

This made me re-think my earlier decision NOT to give him a bath when we got home.

blind date with whoorl

2007-06-06T09:24:00.000-07:00

I started this blog a couple of years ago because my sister thought it would be a good way to stay caught up in each other’s lives. Well, she never blogs anymore, and as you know, I’m hit or miss when it comes to posting. I do read other people’s blogs often, and the weird thing is that you feel like you intimately know the people whose words you read on a daily basis.

Last night, Whoorl and I met for drinks at a restaurant in her neighborhood. Although we’d never met in person before, we had exchanged emails and comments so it felt like we already knew each other. We fell into conversation easily and covered the gamut of topics: kids, husbands, childbirth, work, blogging, the ridiculous price of real estate in California and more (and believe it or not, lip gloss DID NOT EVEN COME UP until the very end). I felt as if I had known her a while. Would I have discussed my retained placenta in gory detail with someone I’m meeting for the first time? Probably not. But with her, it seemed normal. And in my defense, I have to say she started it with some graphic detail of her own! I may have even let her in on a secret or two.

I don’t put a lot of effort into maintaining this blog and sometimes feel guilty about that. I also don’t really write on this blog as therapy, maybe because my tone is usually a little more tongue-in-cheek and tends toward sarcasm rather than true emotional openness. But if blogging is a way to not only stay caught up with people you already know, but to meet new friends and find things in common, that is really pretty cool.

So thanks Whoorl, I had a great time and would love to do it again!

p.s. Am quite jealous of your beautiful dark shiny hair.

you know it's a good toddler weekend when...

2007-06-04T13:33:00.000-07:00

…you have to leave a store before buying anything because a tantrum has reached epic proportions.

…your child wakes up at 5:15 a.m. two days in a row.

…Sunday afternoon’s nap, which should be two hours, turns out to be only one hour.

…when you take him to the park after much pleading, he becomes extremely upset when the swings are occupied and says loudly and whiningly “MY SWINGS! MY SWINGS!”

...and, to cap it all off, your child pees in the closet.*

Two is awesome.

*I have to confess that I found the peeing in the closet incident to be rather funny. My husband, not so much, because he was on cleanup detail.

pants rant

2007-05-23T14:39:00.000-07:00

This morning as I was getting dressed, I stood in my closet pondering what to wear. I took a pair of black pants from the Gap off the hanger and thought “Hmmm, I haven’t worn these in a while. Score! It’s gonna feel like I’m wearing new pants!” So, I put them on and was feeling good about recycling them…

… for about 10 minutes. After that, I realized why the pants were relegated to the side of the closet. They appear to fit, they’re the right length, they look good with lots of different tops and you would think all is well. But no, after this brief honeymoon period they start gapping at the waist in a ridiculous fashion. In a constantly-hiking-up-your-pants, out-of-control-annoying-why-dear-God-am-I-wearing-these-pants kind of way. I mean, I bought them at the Gap, but I didn’t want them to HAVE a gap.

I stand here before you teetering on the brink of pants rage.

Dear Gap Corporation, I have lovingly spent my hard-earned dollars on your clothing nigh these many years, and this is how you repay me. No more! I hereby boycott all your pants.

Love,
Bearca

danger

2007-05-21T16:04:00.000-07:00

It’s a gray, drizzly day and I’m working from home this afternoon. I’ve got a cup of mint tea in my hand, I’m wearing fleecy slippers, and there’s a window cleaning guy upstairs cleaning all the windows in my house as I write this. It’s a good day.

But every time I have a service person, furniture delivery man or some other “house call” guy come here when I’m here by myself, I always stress out a little bit. Like, is this guy legit or does he have a weapon in that nondescript white van parked outside? Is he going to incapacitate me somehow and attack me, or even worse, throw me into the back of said nondescript white van? Is it just me? Do any of you have these thoughts when the Sears guy is fixing your dishwasher? I’m probably paranoid because I've been watching too much Criminal Minds. Dang, I love that show. But it’s rather terrifying.

Anyway, I’m pleased to report that this guy seems very nice and totally normal. But if you don’t hear from me for a few days, put out an APB on that van.

look out, PGA tour!

2007-05-17T09:54:00.000-07:00

I apologize to my four faithful readers for my extended absence. You know who you are! I have been busy getting botched highlights (seriously, my hair looks hideous), working and raising a toddler who may just be on his way to the PGA. Check it out! I'm all, what up Evan, let's get our golf scholarship on. Anyway, I'll be back soon for reals, I promise. Love ya!

5 questions

2007-04-17T16:21:00.000-07:00

Hey! Have you heard about this fun game? My lovely internet friend and fellow lip gloss aficianado, Whoorl, interviewed me by asking the five questions listed below. Want to play? Just leave a comment and I will return the favor. Then, you tell two friends, and they tell two friends, and so on. OK, I made up that last part. But anyway! Here goes.

1) What is the last thing you do before getting into bed at night?
That would have to be slather on lip balm, then pick up a book. Every night, I have to read before I fall asleep. Have to. I am a huge book hound and am happiest when I have a stack of unread books on my nightstand. (So, any recommendations?)

2) What is the most endearing thing Evan is doing right now?
Are you kidding me right now? Pretty much everything he does right now is endearing... well, except the occasional tantrum. Those are definitely the opposite of endearing. However, if I had to pick a current favorite Evan thing, I'd have to go with the bastardized version of the ABC's that he's fond of singing. We call it the 18-letter alphabet and it goes a little something like this:

"ABCs
EFG
HIP
QRS (pronounced "koo are ess")
TV
WXYZ (pronounced "dubba eks why zee")
No more ABCs
Next time won't you sing me."

OK, so I think a little something is lost in the translation here. I will keep trying to get it on video so I can show you because IT IS HILARIOUS. Trust me. The problem is that every time we turn the video camera on nowadays, he freezes up. But let's just say I am particularly proud that he is only two years old and he can sing (most of) the alphabet. Can you say genius?

3) If you had to move to Europe, what country would you live in and why?
Hmmm. I've only been to Germany and England. Of those, I definitely wouldn't pick Germany (don't love the food) and I *might* pick England because I DO love their accents. However, I may just need to make the executive decision to choose Italy sight unseen. Good wine, good food and doesn't George Clooney have a house there? Done.

4) Doughnuts or pancakes?
Both please! Oh, delicious breakfast bready treats, how do I love thee. Although I do have a passionate lust for doughnuts, I think I'll rule in favor of pancakes because they've become a big-time family tradition at our house. My husband makes amazing pancakes from scratch and we have them almost every weekend. They are delicious. But let it be noted that I can't remember ever refusing a doughnut.

5) Who is your favorite artist and/or musician? Why?
That is truly a stumper. I don't know if I could think up a favorite musician but right now I am currently loving the mellow acoustic stylings of Iron and Wine, the Weepies and the like. I also am a big sucker for music that reminds me of fun times past... so I've never been able to get past my love of Toad the Wet Sprocket that originated in college. Oh, and the Indigo Girls. And Guster. Because those are two awesome picks for road trip music. And who doesn't love road trip music? Oh who are we kidding. Like I said, can't pick a favorite.

Allrighty! That concludes today's interviewpalooza. If you would like to join the fun, follow these directions:

1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions of my choosing.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

disjointed

2007-04-12T11:01:00.000-07:00

So have I spent the last few days improving my blog? Clearly, the answer is no. I may embrace my vanilla flavor for now, at least until a fancy new banner falls out of the sky and lands here at Chez Bearca. Hey, it could happen.

Have I mentioned that my son is turning 2 on Monday? And the fact that we are having a blowout birthday party for him this coming Saturday? And that I’m totally stressed about it because what if I don’t order enough pizza and get enough juice boxes or what if one of the kids falls and gets hurt and I am somehow liable? And did I buy enough paper plates and are the goody bags I am putting together completely lame? These are the thoughts currently running through my head right now. I’m sure once all is said and done, it will be great and fun and whatnot, but right now even obsessive spreadsheet-creating and list-making in true Bearca fashion is not reducing my stress.

Also: I’ve become a Starbucks junkie and my caffeine intake is say, a tad higher than it has been in the past, and it’s just now occurring to me that the caffeine is probably not HELPING my stress level.

And another also: I just made a haircut appointment with a new guy, which I’m very excited about, but it’s not for three and a half weeks and I’m not sure I can stand it. Hello ponytail, nice to see you again. Get comfy, because you’re going to be with me daily for a while.

blogging for dummies

2007-04-09T11:01:00.000-07:00

I really want to “re-invent” my blog somehow. Maybe I just need some sort of fancy banner at the top that looks cool. But how do I do that? I have always relied completely on the Blogger templates and they are fine, if a bit vanilla. Not that there is anything wrong with vanilla, but a little dollop of hot fudge always improves things, don’t you think? Also, I think I should add some sort of features like other people have on their blogs. Like an About Me, so people can get to know the real Bearca. Just off the top of my head, here’s how I would characterize myself:

“I am a 33 year old gal living the good life in Southern California. I have a husband, a two-year old son, and a job that sucks up a lot of my time and energy. I love reading, guacamole, Fox TV dramas, cheese and lip gloss, and have recently developed a disturbing fondness for Blue’s Clues and pretzel-flavored Goldfish. I don’t like eating scallops, writing with pencils or dressing up on Halloween.”

Yep, that’s pretty much me in a nutshell. So that’s done. Ha.

But anyway, help me! How do I make my blog less boring?

sick day, the sequel

2007-04-06T07:46:00.000-07:00

Home again today! The little guy can't seem to shake this fever, so we're going to have another relaxing day at home together. However, instead of watching the same Baby Einstein video over and over (Baby Noah: oh how I love you and loathe you all at the same time!), I have DVR'd two episodes of Blue's Clues and one episode of Teletubbies. What? Was that me expressing a feeling that watching Teletubbies is an upgrade over Baby Einstein? Desperate times, people. Desperate times.

sick day

2007-04-05T08:21:00.000-07:00

I’m home with Evan today. He has a fever and couldn’t go to daycare. He seems okay, definitely a little warm, but he’s in a pretty good mood and still has his traditional ravenous appetite. So I’m not too worried.

It’s just after 8:00 am. We’re in our pajamas watching Blue’s Clues together on the couch, it’s gray and overcast outside, and I’m sipping a hot cup of coffee. And you know? I can’t complain. We could do without the fever, but it’s a pretty good day.

I can’t help but look at him and think that his days wearing these fleecy footed sleepers are limited. I’m going to hold onto them as long as I can.

it's monday, all right.

2007-03-26T08:31:00.000-07:00

It’s 8:20 am. So far, today, I’ve done the following:

Left a razor within easy reach of my toddler, who quickly found it.

Yelled at my husband for telling me that I was taking a long time to get ready.

Completely lost my temper with Evan because he would not stop pulling on my hoop earrings when I was holding him. His little face crumpled up and the sad lip popped out immediately. I felt so, so, so bad.

Forgot to brush my teeth before leaving the house.

Like I said, it’s not even 8:30 yet and I’ve already racked up an impressive list of accomplishments.

parents of the year

2007-03-12T20:31:00.000-07:00

The scene:
Monday night. 6:55 pm. Dinner table.

The players:
Dave, Evan and me. Dave suddenly remembers that his usual Monday night guitar lesson has been moved to 7:00 instead of 7:30 and yells out "CRAP!"

Evan, sponge that he is, immediately realizes he's onto something and starts saying "Crap! Crap! Crap!" over and over again.

Um, yeah. Awesome.

part-time blogger

2007-03-09T09:16:00.000-08:00

So, I realized I hadn’t updated this blog since I came back from Europe. It was a good trip, but I mostly saw the inside of airports, airplanes and conference rooms. And I was right, conference room in Germany = conference room in America. Except the chairs were slightly more hip. And I had forgotten how much I love Heathrow airport. When you’ve got a three-hour layover, it might as well be in an airport that has SHOE STORES. In that scenario, I can’t avoid shopping. Sorry, honey – do you like my new shoes?

Going away always reminds me how good it is to get home. I love home. I love sleeping in my own bed and being able to hear Evan breathing on the monitor. I love having my family around me. I love being surrounded by all my favorite toiletries, because why FOR THE LOVE OF GOD can I never remember to pack hand cream?? I also love having multiple boxes of delicious breakfast cereal at my disposal on any given day. Beans and black pudding are a frightening breakfast for anyone. And California, sweet California, I adore you – you of the excellent weather and smoke-free laws (I’m looking at you, Germany. Look for my dry-cleaning bill, beeyotch!)

So, yes. Traveling is fun, but home is always better.

imac and international travel: unrelated but happening at the same time

2007-02-24T09:26:00.000-08:00

Hi, it's me, Bearca... coming to you live blogging from my sweet new iMac! Which, like other major purchases in our household, my husband had to start campaigning for months earlier (or even longer). But, also like other major purchases in our household, once we have it home and all set up, I love it more than life itself.

OK, not more than life itself... but you get my drift.

In other news, I am hopping a flight to Europe today for work. This is good and bad. Good, because hello London and Cologne! Bad, because it means a week away from home, and also since I'll be there for work it's unlikely that I'll get to do any major sightseeing. And let's face it, a conference room in Germany looks about like a conference room anywhere else.

So that's happening. Pardon my absence.

it ain't just a river

2007-02-20T16:23:00.000-08:00

Because I am in denial that today is a workday following a lovely three-day weekend, and that I am no longer on vacation in the central coast of California tasting various wines, I will share with you another photo from our trip.

Here we are, after visiting our fourth winery of the day (see how happy we look?). Those are the faces of two responsible adults who have just pawned their toddler off on grandma and grandpa. Oh yeah.

catching up

2007-02-15T14:45:00.000-08:00

Oh dear blog, I’ve missed you so. Between the throwing up, the crazy busy work schedule and the recent toddler tantrums that have entered my life, I’ve sadly neglected you.

Yes, you heard me right: throwing up! Remember when I oh-so-optimistically titled my last post “puke-free and proud”? Well, it’s like Whoorl says. When you say something in your blog, the exact opposite thing happens in real life. That very same night, my husband got the stomach virus that Evan had brought home from daycare. I was taking care of him, purchasing Gatorade at the store and la la la, feeling fine myself, until all of a sudden it hit me too. The puking. The fever. The shivering. The complete inability to move.

So yeah, we were nice and sick. Good times!

And I believe I mentioned the tantrums. Yes! They are here. They are teetering on a fine balance between hilarious and ridiculous. I mean, what would happen if my boss told me to do something I didn’t want to do and I immediately started bawling, threw myself on the floor and kicked my feet for a solid 10 minutes? I’d probably lose my job, that’s what would happen. I guess that’s why we here in the good old U.S. of A. don’t insist that toddlers be gainfully employed.

But, on a positive note, guess what I did last weekend? We left Tantrum Boy with his grandparents and went to Santa Barbara for three whole days with my sister and her husband. Yes, three days of decadent food, wine and shopping. It was unbelievable. This photo pretty much represents it all. That’s me and my brother-in-law carrying the gigantic boxes of wine that we bought out to the car.

Because now that I have an almost-two-year old, I need that wine more than ever.

puke-free and proud

2007-02-01T16:39:00.000-08:00

Well, I think the barf illness has run its course. He and I stayed home together yesterday and watched movies and TV pretty much all day. Sesame Street? Check. Blue's Clues? Check. Teletubbies? Against my better judgment, check. He had sips of water all morning and then graduated to saltines around lunchtime. Yum.

It was a bummer of a day, with the sickness and the fact that the 5, 6, and delete keys just stopped working on my laptop. And let me tell you, you've got to have those. Who knew how many times a day I used the number 5? And delete, duh, that goes without saying. You've gotta have delete.

Well, now I'm just rambling. I guess I don't have a lot of interesting conversational tidbits due to the fact that my life of late has been filled with cleaning up vomit, watching children's television and my inability to use the delete key.

Maybe I should delete this post.

helpful hint

2007-01-31T10:34:00.000-08:00

A solution of 1/3 cup white vinegar and 2/3 cup water is surprisingly effective at removing barf stain and smell from your carpet.

Just FYI.

this week is awesome

2007-01-30T21:42:00.000-08:00

It's 9:38 p.m. In the last hour and a half, Evan has thrown up four times.

Now carpet in three different rooms smells like vomit. Apparently 21 month old toddlers aren't very good at aiming into a receptacle for this purpose. (Not for lack of trying on my part.)

The only upside to this is that I taught him how to say "barf" and it's absolutely hilarious.

Might be a bit of a long night.

confessional

2007-01-29T11:21:00.000-08:00

Two things happened this weekend that troubled me.

First, I wore Ugg boots out in public when we went to Target yesterday afternoon.

Second, during this very same trip to Target, I was caught without tissues and used the sleeve of my VERY OWN sweater to wipe copious amounts of snot from Evan’s nose. Multiple times.

What’s next, a minivan?

bubblephobia

2007-01-19T13:58:00.000-08:00

As it turns out, Evan is absolutely terrified of bubble baths. Go figure! He’s got this little cold right now, and last night I thought putting a little bit of vapor bath in the water might help clear up his nose. After I had put the vapor bath in, he walked in the bathroom and eyed the tub suspiciously. When it became apparent to him that I actually intended to put him in there, he blew a gasket. Tears poured down his little face as he screamed piteously. I finally got him in the water but he cried the whole time, stopping only long enough to throw his hands up and hopefully say “done!” several times.

It was traumatic for everyone, but the good news? I now have an important piece of information with which I can torture him when he’s older. “Hi, college girlfriend. I’m Evan’s mom. Did you know that he used to be afraid of bubble baths?”

Now that’s just mean.

i'm such an underrated blogger!

2007-01-12T19:32:00.000-08:00

Check it out...

Your Blogging Type Is Thoughtful and Considerate

You're a well liked, though underrated, blogger.
You have a heart of gold, and are likely to blog for a cause.
You're a peaceful blogger - no drama for you!
A good listener and friend, you tend to leave thoughtful comments for others.

What's Your Blogging Personality?

fair, to quite fair

2007-01-10T11:59:00.000-08:00

This morning I stopped at Starbucks on my way to work. The cashier gave me my change and then said “Have the BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE!!!!” all peppy-like. I smiled, because that seemed like the polite thing to do, but inside I was rather annoyed. I subsequently became further annoyed because while waiting for my grande nonfat latte with one Splenda, I heard him impart the exact same greeting to no fewer than five people.

It’s not like today is the worst day of my life, but it is definitely not the best. Let’s see the pros and cons, and then we can decide.

Pros
1) I did get to start the day off with a grande nonfat latte with one Splenda.
2) I booked hotel rooms for an upcoming getaway to Santa Barbara (yay).

Cons
1) I am having a pretty bad hair day.
2) I have a zit right on my nose that seems in no hurry to disappear.

Um, yeah. Kind of a wash. Sorry, Starbucks barista/cashier, it seems that your overzealous greeting will not be changing my life for the better today.