'Til Death, Dammit.

I don't know why they're so tired.  I sleep fine, as long as someone nurses me constantly after dark and puts my binky back in my mouth after each of the 8,000 times I spit it out at night.

Making up from a sleep-deprivation-induced marital skirmish last week, this exchange took place as we read our respective books (his on statistics, mine on hiking - neither of which we practice) and attempted to make up (MULTITASKING!) before going to sleep.

SLB:  (grudgingly) I love you, you know.
Me:  (pain in the assishily)  Say it all romantic.  Say it like Shakespeare.
SLB:  (ghoulishly) WOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOOO!   I looooooove YOOOOOUUUUUUU...

At which point we both laughed, because Shakespeare is dead and the only way he can say anything, even romantic stuff, is like a ghost.  Ha!  Silly dead ghost bard making us stop hating each other!

And that, my friends, is why I can't stay mad at this face for long.

"I'm sorry for all the times I was always wrong and you never, ever were wrong.  Never.  Not once.  Have some flowers"

Operation Awesomepants: Look Who's Balking!

Before we begin, why don't you look at my sweet Halloween punkins?

They are luminous, no?

And now on to the less luminous of our October doings.  Dudes, I have been crazy off the resolution wagon this month.  CRAZY off the resolution wagon, I tell you, and in a remarkably predictable way.  I start all big projects just like this:

Step 1:  Huge declaration of intent.

Step 2:  Phenomenal dedication to goal.

Step 3:  Minor initial success! 

Step 4:  Arbitrary rebellion against stated intents, sought-after goals, and achieved successes (Also known as the "SCREW YOU, I DON'T HAVE TO!" stage).

Step 5:  Self-loathing hidden beneath self-deprecation, shame spiral, quitting, insane consumption of impossible amounts of sugary deliciousness.

And friends, OA reached Step 4 on October 9th, when I first began to avoid filling out my resolution chart in the evenings.  I also stopped keeping my one-sentence journal in real time and resorted to retroactively batching entries, which led to a date screw up, a mystery day I don't remember at all, and an irreparable rift in the space-time continuum.  Sorry about that, science!  

So, shithowdyduckfuckinggoddamn, it's time to saddle back up before I slide into Step 5 and start to smell constantly and strongly of fun-sized Snickers, Nutella, and humiliation.  So here's now that's going to work.

*Edit those resolutions down.

There are too many of them for me to keep them forefront in my mind without constantly checking a list, and so some of them have got to be enfolded into others or let go of entirely.

The new list of resolutions for months 1 (Energy) and 2 (Health) now consists of

1.  Use energy honestly.

2.  Exercise better.

3.  Plug leaks.

4.  Make the right effort.

5.  Plan meals and snacks.

6.  Weigh in.

*Take some time to make these habits regular.

It was ridiculously optimistic to think that jumping into a huge project like this and following new resolutions and goals every day would come easily and enthusiastically.  Then, when it inevitably became work, I stomped my bratty little foot, screamed "Don't wanna!" and sulked in a pile of Halloween candy in the corner.  Now that I know how hard these life changes are, I know that I need more time to settle into them before adding new resolutions to old.  So, this month, I'm paring things down a bit and reinforcing previous goals by making November's overarching theme and single resolution be Pay Attention.  

SLB works in a field where he's required to keep track of his time at work so that he knows to which clients he should bill his working hours and minutes.  He complains sometimes of the burden of remaining conscious of his time when he'd rather lose himself in his work, but I think it sounds like a fantastic tool for keeping worthless distractions at bay.  Continually asking "O.K., what am I doing right now, and is it what I should be prioritizing at this time?" would be irritating if you were sure to be efficiently focused on relevant tasks at all times, like my husband ALWAYS is (Have I mentioned that he's part German and part Mormon?  Now imagine the discipline and ambition of both of these cultures funneled toward good instead of National Socialism and/or Manifest Destiny, and you've got SLB.  The man GETS. SHIT. DONE.).  But, friends, I am a flibbertigibbet, and flibbertigibbets really benefit from asking "O.K., what am I doing right now?" because so often the answer is "Stalking people I don't care about on Facebook while watching bitches hoard cheap barbecue sauce on Extreme Couponing," which, I think we can all agree, is just no way to live.

So, I am going to make November my time to pay attention and remain conscious of my goals while I go through my days.  To do this right, I'm going to literally make myself uncomfortable (I almost said "take myself out of my comfort zone," but then remembered that I'd have to smack myself bloody for using such stupid and vapid cliche'd language on this esteemed platform if I did) by doing something I usually don't do: wear jewelry.  I've read in various motivation and time- and task-management books and blogs about wearing a bracelet or other piece of conspicuous jewelry to remind one of one's goals.  So, I've got a nice silver bracelet that sits closely enough to my wrist not to be a physical burden while still feeling foreign enough to keep me from getting too distracted from the day's stated goals.  

Yes, November is going to be like a do-over for September and October.  But a do-over is better than a never-done, and so I'm starting over by re-starting differently.  Besides, I've had some successes (5 lbs lost, no headaches AT ALL in October, spending better time with Livy, working out harder on higher resistance levels at the gym, reading record numbers of books, etc.), and I don't want to disrespect the effort it's taken to earn them by backsliding into old, bad habits any more than I already have.

Achtung, babies.  Let's get this done.

Operation Awesomepants: Month 1 Results & Reflections

Hi, y'all!

Today is September 30th, which makes tomorrow October 1st, which means that the first month of Operation Awesomepants, whose theme was energy, is coming to a close.  So, did I keep my resolutions?  Did keeping them dramatically improve my life and make me a happier non-camper?  It was a mixed bag with a positive result, like when your Starburst packet contains a disproportionate number of orange ones, but then you decide that you actually really like orange ones.  Yeah.  Just like that.

Wait?  What the what is this?  Do you think it rumbles with Sunny D?  Does orange juice look down on it with disdain?  Fascinating.  Let's table this discussion and get back to business, shall we?

1.  Go to sleep earlier.  

I opted to ignore this resolution so many times that the first row in my OA log looks like it's been hit with some 90's-era crop circles.  I managed to go to sleep earlier exactly 6 nights out of the last 29, and will likely stay up tonight, too.  That's a whopping 20% completion rate, friends, not something I'm proud of.  The siren song of just a few more minutes of reading in bed, or watching TV with SLB, or surfing the stupid web in an obsessive quest for Halloween decorations was just too strong to resist.  Still, I'll persist (Did I mention that I'm an amateur rapper?) into next month and the rest of the year.  The strange thing is that, even though I didn't get more sleep than previous months, especially with big transitions in Livy's life that kept her up some nights, I seemed to have more energy during the days.  My self-exhortation to "make the effort" rang through my days loudly and really did give me the verve that I expected more sleep to impart.  But more on that later.  And, hopefully, more early nights next month.

2.  Use energy honestly.

All right, this one is a 27/29, clearly a success, but, again, unexpectedly so.  I had anticipated that this resolution would prompt more rest in my days - more naps when I'd been up the previous night with Livy, more quiet reading time - but the exact opposite was true.  I know that I have a tendency to try to quell the ants that seem to permanently reside in my pants, sometimes to the extent that I'll force myself into quiet activities simply because I think I should save energy or maintain a calm home during Livy's rest times, a habit left over from our previous house that was half the size of the new house.  So, when I examined my energy level during the past month, I found more often that I really wanted to be doing more activity, not less.  That meant less reading, napping, and screen time, and more cleaning, weeding, exercising, puttering and cooking, all of which are good things.  This is also reflected in a surprise weight loss of 3 pounds for the month, too, which is also a great unexpected blessing.  Who knew I had it in me?

3.  Exercise Better.

This one was a toughie to maintain because I'm generally leery of new physical activity, but I managed an 18/30, or 60% of my workouts consisting of more than just pounding away at an elliptical trainer.  I've also been brave about attending an evening yoga class at the gym with great results.  I'm already improving in my flexibility and strength and can do poses now that I couldn't do when I was at my peak fitness before Livy.  Liv and I have also been attending a mommy-toddler dance class, and I'm counting that as flexibility training because of all the stretches we do.  One thing I still need to confront is my reluctance to lift weights at the gym.  It smells like raw ass in the weight room, like post-Katrina flooding and old sweat mingled together, and I hate to take up valuable cardio time when at the gym is my only opportunity to really work up a sweat (Livy hates it when I run with the stroller).  But, I recognize that this is a next step in exercising better and will find a solution.

4.  Plug Leaks

22/30, or 73%.  Leak-plugging has been easy this month, mainly because we have so many to plug.  We may have moved in in March, but we've also been so busy and complacent that we never really settled in and began nesting in the new house.  There was a lot of low-hanging fruit to pick, and we picked a bushel in the last month.  And I say "we," uncharacteristically, not in the royal sense.  Once we sat down and took a room-by-room inventory of changes we want to make and things we want to do in the house, SLB got on board with feverish activity.  Livy has even begun cleaning up her toys at the end of the day - a couple of times without my having to ask.  The leak-plugging has also spread to car maintenance, self-care, parenting (Oh, hi big girl bed and potty training!) and all manner of nagging "undones" on my to-do list.  This forward motion feels great, and the sense that we're tackling these projects as a team is even better.

5.  Make the Effort.

This one is tricky.  I've got a perfect 100% here, no zeroes in any square in that row.  I should celebrate, but I feel like I sometimes make the wrong effort.  I may work and hustle all day long doing things, but often at the end of the day I feel like I've accomplished nothing of importance.  Sure, I may have cleaned the kitchen, but did I do any writing that day?  Yes, I may have run around hauling Livy from errand to errand, but did we have any meaningful floor time together?  I know this is normal for a lot of people, particularly stay-at-home parents, but I'd like to focus on not just making any old effort, but on making the RIGHT effort.  So please consider this resolution duly changed to Make the Right Effort.  The days during which I did make the right effort, particularly when doing art projects with Livy or taking her to a play at the Seattle Children's Theater (she talks about painting on her feet to make footprint art and "Hawold and da Puhple Cwayon" ALL. THE. TIME.) I consider my most successful of the month.  That kind of effort is where good memories come from, and that's the kind of work I want to do under this resolution.  So, a result, a reflection, and a revision.  That's parallelism at its best as I launch tomorrow into Month 2.

Community Property Is A Cruel Mistress

Because SLB can't divorce me without losing a lot of money, I'll be buying this dress for Olivia immediately.

I will, of course, be getting a matching shirt for myself.  And SLB?  Well, there's a bottle of bourbon with his name on it, provided that he's changed his name to "Mark."

Movin' On Up

Once upon a time there was an expectant mother who looked like this:

Rock out with your bellybutton out.

And an expectant father who, seeing his wife's increasingly gargantuan belly, decided that the time was ripe to assemble a crib for his growing baby girl.  That process looked a lot like this:

He's just pretending to hammer.  Our crew of crib-building elves is just out of frame.

And this crib worked for a long, long time.  Like when that baby looked like this:

Yes, I know I was supposed to take the bib off before her nap.  I can't go back in time, so don't nag.

or like this:

Cat always was, cat always is, and cat always will be Livy's snuggly little nighttime pal.

But now that that baby has started looking more like this, it was time to think about transitioning the crib into a toddler bed.

She never climbed out, but she could have.  It just never occurred to her to do it when yelling for us to get her out was so much more efficient.

And so now she sleeps in a Big Girl Bed that looks exactly like this:

Why is it that pretending to go to bed is always more fun than actually going to bed?  Why would you play at something you apparently don't like much anyway?

The transition to a Big Girl Bed wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but I can't say it was easy given how much sleep we've lost in the last week or so now that the crib is gone.  Livy stays in it well enough, but she has a hard time getting herself back to sleep when she wakes up in the night in her new bed.  This means, of course, that we have to help her settle down and then settle down ourselves, often to just have to get up again and calm her down again.  She loves playing in it, though, and just hanging out in her bed with her toys and books keeps her occupied for whole dozens of minutes.  That alone makes the switch worth it.

We celebrated her first day with her Big Girl Bed with another first: Mama's first attempt at making a Mickey Mouse pancake.  While I would never post a photo of what it wound up looking like, it started off looking like this:

A little misshapen, but delicious nonetheless.

And, in the spirit of "out with the old and in with the new," SLB finally replaced his old collegiate printer with one from this millennium.  The old one, an Okidata (???), looked like this:

It printed at maximum 3 pages before it would jam, and sometimes it had to be hand-fed paper.  My blood pressure is spiking just thinking about it.

We also finally man-,woman-,and childed-up and said goodbye to Livy's cardboard clubhouse, which we've had in our "formal" (HA!) living room since we bought our new range back in April.  She misses it, but it was starting to stink and collapse.  So getting rid of it was good practice for when she shoves us off onto an ice floe when we start to stink and collapse too much, too.  You know, like in the next year.  That fetid, structurally unsound hideaway looked like this:

Yes, we remembered to take the toys and daughter out before hauling it to the dump.

So, as we're upgrading and improving around these parts (this leak-plugging has become a real family affair), I'm just grateful that there's one old thing we aren't tossing out yet.  And that looks like this:

Because, DANG, I don't want to find a real job.

We Took The Long Way

Last Tuesday was SLB's and my 8th wedding anniversary.  He surprised me with tickets to tonight's Rhett Miller show at the Triple Door, where we were certain to hear our wedding song, "Question."  You know, just like you're certain to hear it now.



Happy belated anniversary, SLB.  I'd say O.K. all over again every day, all the time, forever.

End of Summer

Hi there, people!  Tomorrow is September - no joke! - which means, meteorological calendars aside, I am declaring an end to summer and the beginning of autumn.  I love the fall.  As a longtime student and sometime teacher, fall has always meant new beginnings and fresh starts to me.  SLB and I got married in early September for this very reason.  September is a breath of fresh air and a chance to start anew.  It makes me think of newly sharpened pencils and possibilities.  In this calendrical and inspirational vein, I'll be starting some new writing projects on and off of this blog soon.  Summer's over, and it's time to hunker down and do something good, dammit.  But, until midnight when I become all virtuous and productive, let's linger over fine summer memories, shall we?

Like that time I took Livy to the Ballard water park, where she proved that a fleece Viking hat is, in fact, all-weather gear.

Pillaging knows no season.

Or that time I rode a mechanical bull in Las Vegas.

In hindsight, the blouson peasant top wasn't my most flattering bull-riding option.  Learn from my example, people.

Or that time I made forty-freaking-eight cupcakes, along with forty-freaking-eight cupcake toppers for Livy's 2nd birthday party.

I'm crafty.  I'm just your type.

Because I have an embarrassing tendency to do dumb things like this in the presence of a camera...

... let's let this sweet picture of Liv and her good friend Margaret stand in for the touching one of Liv and me that never manifested.

Or that time we went to the Oregon coast to play and to Sauvie Island to meet some new friends.

Livy LOVED the beach...

...

...

... until she didn't.

Handsome Baby Jake may be Sauvie Island's newest resident...

... but Livy preferred the goats.

Or the time we saw my boyfriend Steve play at the Snoqualmie Casino.

Flawlessly silver.  Flawlessly foxy.

Or that time I read 9 horny vampire novels in 6 weeks?

So far #9 was the best.

Or that time that Toddlers & Tiaras started making sense.

Bathing, basking belly.

As you can see, it's been a fantastic summer for frolicking and fun.  But my pencils are sharp, the tags are freshly off of my school clothes, and I've got a Trapper Keeper full of fresh college-ruled paper.  Summer's been great, but fall is here, and that's time to shine.

Buy Me That: Bug on a Bike!

I'm not even joking.  If one of you freeloading blog-enjoyers doesn't buy me this to hang in our new downstairs powder room, WE'RE THROUGH.

GET ON YOUR TRIKE AND RIDE!

SLB is out of town, but I can already imagine the conversation we're going to have if one of you doesn't pony up and mail this to me immediately.  It goes a little something like this:

Me:  Hey, look at this bug on a trike!  I love him!  What do you think about me getting it for the powder room downstairs?

SLB:  It's weird.  I don't want a bug on my wall.

Me:  Tough titties, Meal Ticket!  I'm buying me that bug!

SLB:  I'll be having bourbon with my oatmeal this morning.

End scene.

Get your - er, I mean MY - new bug friend here!

Christmas Eve Eve Makes Me Feel Fine

Livy is at Oma and Opa's having the time of her life (Did you know that she sings Opa's name when we practice singing together?  That little girl has a serious case of Opa-love.), I've taken a 2 hour nap and wrapped the final pile of presents, SLB is on his way home from work to take me out to a new gastropub in the neighborhood, and Amelie is going to be on TV in about 5 minutes.  Life is good, people.

So, until the holidays are over and we have some time to breathe, let this suffice as a Merry Christmas to you, dear readers.  You are the reason for the season!  Well, you and these people:

All tuckered out from an exciting holiday show (Yes, those ARE puffed sleeves.  You only get one chance to be a little girl in a Christmas dress.  Go big or go home.)

Singing to SLB's fine accompaniment

My peeps.

And to all a good night!

Yardwork in November

I can't think of much clever to say, so why don't you listen to this fine song by an old friend of Uncle Damon's and look at my adorable family frolicking in the autumn leaves before they were covered in snow.

Leaves are fun!

No, Daddy!  Leaf me alone, you rake!

How about you get me instead...

then we practice our stunts...

 

finish up with a celebatory snuggle...

 

and go inside for a hearty serving of Mom's miraculous mac-n-cheese?

I like Actual Tigers.  I like autumn.  I like my family.  I love my mac-n-cheese.  The end!

Buy Him That: Havarti Shirt

Because we're bootstrappers, SLB and I both attended excellent state schools before launching ourselves toward majestic debt by going to fancy graduate schools.  Although he was accepted into a number of very fancypants law schools, he chose not to attend an Ivy League school.  I, on the other hand, did besmirch an Ivy Leage institution with my attendance, and whenever it looks like he's about to win an argument, be smarter than I am, or even just take a breath, I like to remind him of this.  And that's why someone (hmmmmm Santa?) needs to get him this shirt for Christmas.

Yes, it's a little cheesy (BOOM!), but it's awesome.  Get one here.

No, it won't stop the torrent of arbitrary academic abuse, but it might make me giggle enough to throw me off my game a bit.  That brief reprieve alone makes this shirt truly a gift that promises to keep giving.

Rock Stars

Happy Father's Day!

It's SLB's first official Father's Day, even though we celebrated last year since Livy was viable by then.  Messed up?  Maybe, but I'll confront all dire possibilities in the name of gift-giving.  This year SLB received a bottle of Dry Fly gin, a bottle of Dry Fly vodka (Hey, Washingtonians!  Now we can buy local liquor!), and a copy of The Savoy Cocktail Book with the original illustrations.

He seemed pleased.

He brought himself a Father's Day bouquet!  He knows how to treat himself right.

Up later today: the Mariners game with good friends (More on them later.) and Olivia, and a night out while Livy is expertly cared for by a dear former student (Possibly more on her later.  She'd make a great Special Guest Star, but she has so much potential that I don't want to ruin with an association with this sad rag).

So, happy Father's Day, SLB!  You are a great daddy, and Olivia is so lucky to have you to guide, wrestle, teach, snuggle, and love her.

Celebration!

This is both my 100th post and Easter, so to celebrate I give you this dialogue from only moments ago.

The setting:  sitting in the dining room.  SLB is feeding Olivia her second of three servings of fruit for breakfast (yes, there will be a diaper consequence, but it's Easter and she can't have candy yet so we spoil her with fruit) and I am researching recipes for a festive Easter dessert later today.

Me:  What's the difference between normal baking baking powder and double acting baking powder.
SLB:  It rises twice.  He is risen!  He is risen!

Thank you very much, we'll be here all week!

Happy Easter.  May your lord and your cakes rise with grace and ease.

Every Saturday Should Be Like This

I woke up late, having finally been able to push through insomnia toward a nearly full night's sleep.  Then I had breakfast and caught up with SLB, read a stack of neglected magazines, played with Olivia until she was rubbing her eyes in surrender, and steamed myself wrinkly in a leisurely shower during her nap.

Then we headed off to a delicious lunch, beer, and belly laughs with friends before coming home to put Livy down for a nap. 

Partners in crime, if being adorable were illegal.

Then, as the rain started pouring outside, I took a bath with Molly Wizenberg, a chunk of fine chocolate, and a cup of green tea.  Livy joined me in all her naked glory toward the end of my bath.  That tub was full to bursting with rosy, jovial chub.  The brief space not occupied by our voluminous bellies was crammed with our luscious thighs.  It was wonderful, snuggly, and very, very splashy.

I don't know what the rest of the evening holds, but it doesn't really  matter.  After a day this relaxing and joyful nothing could really bring it down.  It's 5:45, and I'm lounging in my jammies while we listen to music and SLB dances our giggling daughter around the living room.

Have a restful weekend, friends.  I hope you are pleasantly beseiged by the bounteous yield of a generous egg-laying bunny.  Personally, we're not celebrating Easter in a big way tomorrow.  Because, really, how could any basket hold anything better than a golden day with friends and family?

A Weekend of Sensory Delights: A Dialogic Photo/Video Essay

"Hey, Livy!  How do you like sitting on the grass for the first time?"

"Mama, I said INdoorsy!  I'm INdoorsy!"

"It's TOUCHING me!  Make it stop TOUCHING me!"

"The depth of my ennui knows no limit."

"Sorry about that.  How about we dry your tears and try some seltzer?"

"Hooray!  The day is redeemed!  Now what about waffle fries at Mama and Daddy's favorite kid-friendly pub?"

"Hell yeah, people.  Now we're talking."

"Oh, Livy.  What a generous offer!"

"I did well at the slots this week.  It's on me!"

"We love you, baby girl."

"I love you, Mama, even though you wrestled me still for this shot."

"I love you, Daddy, especially when you let me gouge your eyes out Roy Batty-style."