She Likes Purple

My day job

I haven't talked much about what I do to bring home the big bucks (or, you know, the modest ones) and that's because we all have it ingrained in our blogging heads that Do Not Blog About Work is the first rule of blogging. But, I think that's changed some, especially if what you do is a very online-heavy job, and mine is (especially since the first of this year) and also if you don't have too many negative things to say about your job other than there isn't a margarita machine in place of the water cooler. 

So, I work at a publishing company. More specifically, I work at Smart Pop Books, the imprint of BenBella Books (the publisher of the fairly well-known plant-based diet book, The China Study). Smart Pop is pretty fantastic, and although my mortgage is funded by the company, I wouldn't drive two hours a day unless I really, really meant that.

At Smart Pop, we look at the literature, television, and film people love and basically ask: Why? We put together a group of wickedly funny and ridiculously smart people to contribute essays on a variety of different subjects on those properties, and they all answer the question: What is it about this book or show or movie that makes it a phenomenon, that makes it so cult-y?

Some of my favorites have been on: Gilmore Girls, Veronica Mars and on Ellen Hopkins' Crank and Glass books.

We also have some really cool upcoming ones, including one on True Blood this June (with some pretty cool contributors, including Jonna). For this title, we're doing something a little different and inviting potential readers (you!) to weigh in on two possible covers. Go vote, please, here.

Additionally, if you leave a comment on this post, I'll choose a winner (randomly and such) and let you select the book of your choice from our full Smart Pop Line. (Leaving this post up through next week, and winner will be selected by next Friday.)

You have supported me through so much, and it has always meant the world. So, I'm sharing a little more about myself and my life with you. Thanks, always, for reading here and wherever else I pop up on the Internet.

A few things I considered writing full posts on today but made into bullets instead

- Our Rumble With Atmos Energy. Our meter apparently got all wonky last month, so the Atmos Powers That Be had to estimate our last two bills. December: $35; January: $520. In short, Atmos Energy should never enter one of those Guess How Many Gumballs Are in The Jar contests.

- The Mystery of the Disappearing Tequila. We had a practically full bottle of tequila in our garage (what, that's not where YOU keep your tequila? strange) and now we don't, and apparently there is an alcohol-loving thief on the loose in small-town Texas. LOCK UP YOUR BOOZE.

- I tried Level 2 of the 30-Day Shred last night. And then I died.

- It's supposed to snow on Friday. I couldn't see my screen through my tears to finish that post.

- Style Lush is still kicking ass, taking names, but there's one little thing I didn't take into account when I launched the site: that I would never be able to afford 95% of the fantastic things featured, and that's really a shame.

- How Kyle strangely threw up on himself the other night, twice, without ever waking up. He just sat up (eyes closed), puked, let me wash him off and change him and then went back to bed (then repeated all that an hour later). He seemed fine the next day (and today). Why is parenting so effing strange (and gross, my god)?

- ELIZABETH IS HAVING A GIRL!

- Life Unexpected, One Tree Hill, Friday Night Lights (or maybe I considered devoting an entire post to each)

- Mike is making Kyle's cake for his birthday party. I came home last night to an episode of Hoarders: Post-Baking Kitchens Edition. 

- I'm putting together a video for Kyle's first birthday, and it's 1) HEARTBREAKING and 2) difficult as shit to sift through THOUSANDS, I AM NOT KIDDING, of photos. It's also hard to pick out songs to dub over the video that other bloggers haven't already used. Annoying.

- Are you going to BlogHer '10? I am! Show yourselves, so I can start memorizing faces now!

The Blathering Part Dos

I may have mentioned The Blathering once or twice before. The Blathering being the awesome blogging meet-up event I went to this past fall in Sacramento. It was one of my 2009 highlights, and thankfully the ladies in charge are way more organized and talented than I am, since they already have a weekend and location carved out for The Blathering 2010 Edition. You should really hire these ladies if you're looking to get shit done. They get shit done and then they make a website and then they cook dinner. They're the kind of people I'd like to be when I grow up.

If you'd like to follow the happenings of this weekend, sign-up to attend yourself or just bookmark the site in case you're considering making the trip to CHICAGO! this fall, this is the website for you.

The Blathering's Official Website Because Maggie Kicks So Much Ass

There are like nine gazillion blog conferences around the country each year and they all appeal to the side of me that likes drink tickets and organized itineraries, but if you're looking for something a little different, a little more inclusive and laid back where you don't have to worry about drinking too much or what you're wearing, this is absolutely the trip for you. 

There may also be line dancing in a gay bar. You just never know.

Top five

Kyle and I spend our weekends together, behaving completely out of control. Sometimes we go to the grocery store AND Target, and can you even read that without getting a little tipsy off our wild lifestyle? I know, it's insane! We even have the occasional play date and every so often, we go to the craft store.

I think that kind of fun is still illegal in Arkansas.

Just this past Sunday, Kyle and I were upstairs watching a little old school 90210 (his choice), and snuggling on our overstuffed chair (and by snuggling, you should know I mean I was trying to nap with my eyes open and Kyle was sticking his fingers in my mouth). (Basically, we were THIS CLOSE to being a Metallica video.) At one point, he tried to grab my tongue, because when you're nearly a year old, there are a few concepts you absolutely do not get, not even a little bit, and personal space is one of them. I was letting him do this, I mean why not, it was keeping him occupied and that's just how parenting is: dignity gone with all those bikinis I used to own. I was trying to be funny at one point, and I turned my head really quickly, taking my tongue with it, and making some funny noise like, "NOW YOU DID IT, KIDDO! MY TONGUE IS GONE! OH NO!" And he laughed. No, that doesn't do it justice.

HE LAAAAAAAUGHED.

And laughed and laughed and laughed.

And I kept doing it. And he kept laughing. And then he started losing his breath, from all the laughing, and we sat like that for a good ten minutes, me pulling my tongue and head away from him in disgust and him falling over himself with the laughing and of course I started laughing because LOOK AT HOW FUNNY MY SON THINKS I AM and then MY laughing got HIM laughing even harder and I know all of you out there without kids just excused yourselves to throw up your breakfasts, and now you're wondering if you'll ever be so damn lame to hang out in front of Soap Net on a Sunday morning with your baby on your lap, the both of you laughing your heads off over something so....ridiculous. And it's certainly not something I ever thought I'd be doing, and even though I've always sort of wanted a child, especially after meeting Mike, this isn't what I thought parenthood would be like. There were way more nannies in my fantasies. But even with all that said, you should also know it was one of the top five best days of my life.

And that includes all those times I slept until noon and those few months in high school when a size zero was too big.

Because she reads this site every day and deserves a shout-out every now and again

With so much happening in the next few weeks, I was afraid taking the time and finding the space to say something really important would escape me, so I'm doing it now when I should be doing laundry (story of my life: I do almost everything when I should be doing laundry).

This past year has been incredible and stunning in its hugeness (baby! house! car! trips! new website! huge new role at work!), but when I look back on it, I know it would have been impossible without a few things and none of those consist of my patience, that's for damn sure. But there's one thing in particular and that would be my mother.

I don't know how often I really talk about her, but it's not (nor will it ever be) enough. She has taken Kyle every, single time I've asked, so I could nap or go out with my friends or go out with my husband or go to Vegas (no, really) or go to the movies alone. She's done it gladly and enthusiastically and when I talked to her at one point from our hotel room in Sin City, she said, "I just want to thank you for giving me this time with him. I feel so lucky." I was already two tequila shots into the night, so the tears were damn near impossible to stop, but her sentiment wasn't shocking or out of character. That's just my mom.

My mom brings me champagne when I ask and buys me the good gifts off my wish lists and tells me how much she admires me, which makes me a wee bit worried about her, I won't lie. My mom doesn't care if I say fuck and doesn't tell me to be anyone but who I am. She tells me I'm a good mom, which is the very best compliment you can give me, probably the very best compliment you could give any mom, you should know.

I say all this mostly because the road our relationship has taken has been rocky at times and rocky is a really, really nice way of putting it. We've both hurt each other and said hateful things and betrayed the other. Yet, if I called her now, at nearly midnight, she'd hop in her car and be here as quickly as possible. No matter what it is I needed from her.

More than anything though, when she walks in our front door and sees Kyle, her love for him is written all over her. I don't even light up the way my mom does when she sees him, and that's something I am able to give him that my own parents were never able to give me. My two grandmothers weren't loving or even present in my life, and if you ever wonder why I don't just shut the hell up about how much I dislike Texas and just, you know, MOVE, I'll remind you of two women: my mother and Mike's. It's why weren't not going anywhere, at least not for a little while. I won't take away from him what I was never fortunate enough to have.

I've said it to my mom before, and because I know she doesn't always believe me when I say nice things, I want to say it again on the Internet because I'm pretty sure that makes it Official Truth: we'd be so damn lost without her.

Kyle would be so lost without you, mom, and we're all just ridiculously lucky to have you.

Also, bring champagne tonight. Thanks!

My Enemies List

I got this great idea from a new favorite blog of mine, Operation Pink Herring. (She's funny, go read her.)

Drivers who are selfish mergers. You know, the ones who speed up to get to the front of the merging line and then don't let anyone else in. Fuckers.

Spencer & Heidi, who I feel have secured their place on many an Enemies List, especially after Heidi's recent "I'm obsessed with plastic surgery" crap

Cockroaches

Jackson, from Gilmore Girls, aka The Most Annoying Television Character There Ever Was

Reliant Energy

A particular Fox Rental Car employee at the SFO airport who told me at 1 a.m. that I couldn't rent a car even though I had a reservation, and then said, "Next!" as I started to cry (with Kyle in tow)

Those who mispronounce 'supposedly'

People who say, "I'm not even going to ATTEMPT your last name. It's ridiculous!" How about you not attempt talking in general. I like that idea better.

Jillian Michaels (although it's a love-hate kind of thing)

The cashier at Central Market who told me she felt badly for my son (WHO SHE DID NOT KNOW) because I was no longer breastfeeding

(Myself, for not telling that cashier to fuck off.)

Whoever is not nominating Friday Night Lights for awards

The Beastie Boys

Chad Michael Murray

Sandra Lee and her ugly kitchen

Our old landlords

People who use LOL often and with no restraint

Those who think "email" translates to "enough anonymity to be a raging dickhead with no consequence"

Charlie Sheen

The woman who said to me, at six-weeks pregnant when I wasn't showing, "I wasn't going to ask if you were pregnant because sometimes fat's just fat"

Dawson (not James Van Der Beek, just Dawson)

*****

What about you, who/what is on YOUR Enemies List?

Perfect

One anti-silver lining of voracious blog reading is that you begin to measure your own life (or marriage or kid or insert any ol' noun here) against the lives (or marriages or kids or insert any ol' noun here) of others, and although this is normal, it's also dangerous because if you measure often enough, you're bound to come up short against someone.

At a pediatrician's appointment once, I mentioned Kyle wasn't sitting up yet, and I was a little worried about it. My doctor looked at me, confusedly, and said, "Worried? Who said he should be sitting up now?" I shrugged my shoulders, possibly mentioned Google, but what I really meant was Google READER because although I had no idea when the average baby sits up, I knew that so-and-so-blogger's baby sat up at four months old. And let me tell you, dear friends, this type of thinking is the first step toward Crazyville. Who does this? Other than INSANE people?

I've been walking around the house lately, fretting over Kyle not clapping, not saying "ball" clearly enough, not calling me "Mama" yet, not walking yet. Who knows when he'll hit these milestones. I do know, though, that measuring him against any other baby is the worst possible thing I can do for him, for us.

Someone super wise and someone I find myself turning to a lot these days as my parenting mentor recently said, "What would it really matter? It won't change how much you love him."

And then I cried.

Because it's true, and it's always been true. What I had to admit (to her, to myself) is that it's not MY feelings or even KYLE'S feelings I worry over (it's a happy, albeit messy, home most of the time). It's yours, theirs, everyone else's.

It's the quality I hate most about myself. The quality that sometimes takes my focus out of my own, love-filled home and puts it out there, onto what others think.

I don't know when Kyle will walk, talk, clap his hands. But, man, he's so much more than milestones. He's perfect. And if you don't agree, I'm going to quit giving a damn about you.

This and that

Loose ends no longer loose and all that jazz.

I wrote this and this and then nothing else. That was annoying of me, so let me update you. I've been training for my first 5K for a couple weeks now. I've been running (and walking) using the Couch to 5K program. I've also been enjoying my new Wii Fit and have pretty much forgiven the bitch for calling me obese. I've also been letting Jillian Michaels have her way with me during the 30-Day Shred. This seems like a lot, and over at MamaPop where the writers are partaking in a Biggest Loser-esque challenge, it was mentioned I might be doing too much, which is slightly laughable if you're in my gym or living room with me. I'm finally working out regularly, but I'm easing into things, just as I should.

I've picked out my first two 5Ks, though, and I thought I'd share in case any of you are in the area and want to join me. My first is the Zooma 20K Relay in Austin at the end of March. Then, another, on Mother's Day closer to home.

The jury's still out on the Big Sur Half-Marathon in November. The Blathering will be that month, in addition to an out-of-town wedding. Also, since Mike and I want to take a just-us getaway to Santa Fe this spring, I may need to plan one closer to home. There's one in San Antonio mid-November and also one in Austin in December. We'll see. (Anyone down for those instead?)

******

Book Lushes are knocking out 12 of my 20 to-read books this year, thank you Jonna, but I haven't started the The Help yet because I HAVE NOT RECEIVED IT OMG. I ordered it the day it was announced, along with The Grapes of Wrath on a whim, and apparently they're sending Steinbeck's classic from1939 because the two aren't scheduled to arrive until NEXT TUESDAY. Amazon, what's up?

******

We're getting excited about Kyle's birthday party around these parts, and, yes, I'm one of those obnoxious mothers who is planning quite the get together for a party the guest of honor won't remember. But here's the thing, I'm celebrating Mike and me just as much as Kyle, call me selfish, but we all made it! Our family, together, made it a year! That's party worthy, in my book.

******

This weekend, I knocked out a couple more 2010 list items. You can see the neat lines drawn through a few things to the left. What I love about my list is that so many of the items are things I can knock out in a weekend, I've just never put forth the effort to do so before. I read my list once a day to remind myself of the things I've always wanted to do but have just been too lazy or complacent to go after.

On Saturday my mom came over to watch Kyle for a bit, and although it wasn't part of the plan, I asked her to watch him a little while longer so I could go to the movies by myself. She said she didn't mind because my mother is incredible and genuinely enjoys spending time with Kyle, thank everything for her. Now, in the past, I would have called a dozen or so friends to invite them along to the movies, but on Saturday I just spent the afternoon with myself and it was lovely.

Comfort zones are funny things. It's not that I've ever been against going to the movies alone (or all the other things I haven't done on the list), I've just never done them. Going to the movies solo isn't something I've ever thought about in the moment, only in hindsight, and this silly little list has allowed me to make my moments what I want them to look like in hindsight. It's such a cool thing, let me tell you.

Here's my almost-one year old wearing his Bacon! shirt from Kristin. He's smiling about something, probably the thigh-high slit in Jennifer Aniston's Golden Globe's dress.

You there?

I ask you to comment a lot, I know. What can I say, I'm a sucker for reassurance. But Twitter and my feed reader tell me it's an official day to delurk, so why I am indeed annoying, no question, so is the rest of the blogging world today.

I can't remember how I officially met some of my favorite blogging friends, but I can be pretty certain all those friendships started with a comment. One of us reaching out and telling the other person they were rad or smart or cool or downright funny. Probably funny. Now, a few years later, I've met plenty of those people face-to-face, traveled to hang out with them, sent and received baby gifts and g-chated with them for hours.

Who cares if one person has more Twitter followers or a catchier blog name. How many real, honest-to-god FRIENDS care about your blog stats. Not many, I'd guess.

I like to make it easy for you, you're welcome, so in the spirit of one of my 2010 list items, what's your favorite classic book and classic movie?

(Sure, some of you have answered on Twitter or Book Lushes, but go ahead and tell me again.)

I'll tell you mine, that's only fair. Book: 100 Years of Solitude. Movie: This Property is Condemned, if that counts.

There are enough pipe references in this post to make a dozen dirty jokes

If I were to list out Mike's very best qualities in order of importance, above sense of humor and the ability to make Kyle's eyes light up like a Christmas tree, I would put this: knows how to fix a busted pipe.

I didn't realize just how invaluable this quality was until yesterday, the day we officially had a busted pipe, but it presented itself to me rather quickly when I learned that Mike fixing the busted pipe would cost us a lot of time and a little money and someone else fixing the busted pipe would cost us a lot of time and ALL THE MONEY TO OUR NAMES. Single ladies, amend those "what I want in a man" lists and make sure "handy with a wrench" tops them. You won't be disappointed, especially if you're in Texas where the weather is a motherfucker. I'm sorry, but it is.

I imagine the crappy weather isn't completely behind us since it's barely January, but I'm pretending it's gone for good, hallelujah, good riddance. That's the same attitude I took with Kyle's teeth. After the top two broke through I celebrated and exhaled and thought, "Oh, so glad that's over! Onward!" AREN'T I CUTE? Since he has a good two dozen teeth left to cut, that positive(ly insane) thinking is just so adorable. Denial, it's as if parents start bathing in it the moment their kids are born.

Mike is fixing some other things tomorrow and then he's promised we'll have running water and leak-free pipes by the time I get home. He's either as good as I give him credit for or my Crazy Eyes scared him enough to lie through his teeth so I'd stop with the yelling. I promised this year to become better in a crisis. Let me amend that: I promise to become better in a crisis when it doesn't involve broken pipes.

*****

In unrelated, loose-end-tying-up news, Mike and I somewhat decided to go to Santa Fe and Taos for our mini-getaway this year. If you have any tips, let me know.

Book Lushes

I plan to read 20 books this year, which isn't much to some, but it's a lot to me. I find it hard to carve out the time to just read, no other distractions, and I hate that. Thankfully, I've joined an online book club that will take care of at least 12 of those books for me. Want to join us? I hope so. It'll be more fun if you did.

The Book Lushes Book Club is here, with lots of fun things going on already, including the announcement of the very first book. 

Hope to see you there.

Controlling what I can

As charmed as I've been with 2010 and all I'm rearing to accomplish this year, it's gotten off to a rocky start, a start I've been hesitant to even talk about because it'll come across like 2010 and I aren't friends. It'll come across, a little bit, like 2010 is a bitch.

Mike threw his back out last weekend, right before my birthday, so although he gifted me with a much-wanted (-needed, too) Wii Fit and let me sleep in the days leading up to the back-thrown-out incident, we weren't able to really celebrate my day in the way I would have liked (which would have been: him taking Kyle for a few hours, so I could nap, watch Food Network and online shop). We have an upcoming party planned, so that'll be fun, and we're going on a date just tonight to re-do my birthday dinner (also fun), and on the day both friends and family celebrated with me, so I'm not shaking my fist at the sky or anything, but it sort of sucked. For both me and Mike, really.

Then, the coldest weather North Texas has seen in more than a decade blew threw late Wednesday night and we reached a low of eleven at one point (that would be two degrees away from single-digit weather, OMG). I know listening to people bitch and moan about the WEATHER, one of the most unpredictable and uncontrollable things there is, can be rather annoying. I kind of hate myself for how much energy and time I've given to weather.com over the last few days, but that cold weather hasn't just ruined my out-of-the-house plans, it's seeped into my house and made all-around living kind of a beating. Our pipes froze so water to the downstairs is.....noticeably absent, shall we say. We can: shower, brush our teeth, use the bathroom and wash our hands (very nice silver linings). We cannot: do dishes, do laundry, cook without taking a pot/measuring cup to the bathroom sink upstairs. (No pasta dish is worth that, I'm sorry.) Our house also reached an inside low of 48 degrees yesterday, and although Mike is working his recently-recovered tail off to fix the flaws in our home and make it a place we love again, it's still been....noticeably difficult, shall we say.

He just called and asked how things were and I said, "I'm trying to find my zen place."

This morning I woke up in a particularly bad mood. Cold house, crying baby, no water. Who's idea of a nice Saturday is THAT? Instead of my calorie-friendly granola bar for breakfast, I thought, "Well, everything else is sliding downhill to Crapville, why not just go get something carby and delicious."

And then I stopped myself.

2010 isn't going to be a great year because of all the great things that are going to find me, and I never thought that's how it would work. It's going to be a great year because I'm making changings, I'm trying to be a calm, better, coolerl-in-a-crisis version of myself. I can't control the weather or the old house's poor insulation or the stupid, stupid pipes or Mike's back. I can control how loudly I yell about one or any of those things. I can control whether I work out in the midst of the bad day. I can control what I eat for breakfast. I can sit and wallow or ride this out.

2010 my have started off a little bitchy, but I'm doing my damnedest not to join it.

Six crazy years

I kissed him first. Fueled by his compliments and vodka, I kissed him first. If you asked him about it, he'd smile, scrunch his eyes a little and crack a joke, but you should know he kissed me back.

And then I didn't hear from him for a month.

"Took you long enough to call me."

"I was nervous. I didn't know what the hell to do."

"Uh-huh. Whatever."

"I walked around the block for a half hour trying to get up the nerve to call you."

I would have fallen over flat if you had told me we'd end up married, parents, homeowners, chronic pains-in-the-asses, but I'm not kidding when I say I knew it then. I knew I'd love him, even then.

**

We spent our first anniversary, way back in 2005, on the slopes of Winter Park. Bitterly cold, frustrated, in love.

**

It's 16 degrees in Texas right now, which I'm sure you know because I won't shut up about it. Our house bottomed out at 51 degrees last night. We had to buy a space heater and I did the 30-Day Shred in a sweatshirt and pj pants. Our pipes froze, too. 

"Don't put your foot on me! You're freezing! Quit putting your feet on me!"

"But you're so warm."

"I'm going to hurt you if you do it one more time."

"One more time, please?"

"You're impossible."

Six years later, we're bitterly cold, frustrated, in love.

**

It's no romantic comedy, although there's comedy, for sure. There's no soundtrack, laugh track, stick-thin leading lady. There's no quirky punchlines or sappy one-liners. It's a boring, ordinary existence most days and half the things that work for us are head-scratchers to anyone who know us.

And even unshowered, freezing, overweight, in debt and stretch-marked to hell and back from the nearly one-year-old kiddo we're trying to keep warm these days, I'd be a fool if I didn't say today and every day that I'm still so lucky, so in love.

**

Six crazy years.

(And thanks, babe, for continuing to let me celebrate today, even though you married me in May "so we could get rid of the anniversary so close to all the other things I have to buy you presents for." You're so much sweeter than you'd want anyone other than your mom to know.)

Then, 2004

Now(ish), 2009

An idea of mine

Will I ever shut up about my 2010 goals? Maybe. Come 2011. It helps keep me on track and since I'm a Capricorn, crossing things off a to-do list gives me a ridiculous amount of joy. Anyway, #3 on my list is this: "Take a few steps in the right direction of starting an organization that provides resources, encouragement and support to new moms."

I've been pretty open about how tough the first two months of motherhood were for me. That's because it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a tough adjustment, and although some women take to it easily and with much grace, without needing to cry every day for two weeks (ahem), others fumble and need a little extra help (not to mention, are slammed with more hormones than a 13-year-old boy). If you had a lovely go of it, that's phenomenal, but that should motivate you to help any moms you know who are struggling. So many new moms don't ask for the help they need (case in point: me) because they feel they're failing and no one likes admitting failure, especially when that admission could make some question their love for their child. What's worse, some naysayers go there and connect those dots and make those accusations, and scar those moms for life. (Stop that, if you've done it.) There's this sad, almost cruel competition constantly brewing among mothers, and it goes a little something like this: if you're sad or frustrated or overwhelmed or anxious you're doing it wrong and you're not as good as I am.

And that's bullshit.

My own mother said something to me once, and it's stuck: "Moms should be most kind to other moms because we all know how hard it can be."

Word.

When I was home on maternity leave, an old friend brought me dinner one night. I kept trying to avoid her visit because the thought of entertaining or taking a shower or even smiling exhausted me even more than I already was. I was already pretty fucking exhausted. But she came by and quickly dropped off dinner, told me I looked great, oohed and ahhed over Kyle and then headed home. It was one of the kindest gestures anyone made during that time. Someone I don't get to see often made it a point to do something nice for me because she cared and didn't ask for anything in return, not even an in-depth conversation. It was so selfless. 

I'll never forget it.

One thing my experience in general and that gesture specifically inspired in me was the need for more resources and support (cooking meals, cleaning kitchens, allowing naps, a sounding board, grocery shopping, etc) for new moms. It's something I've thought about off and on for nearly a year, and something I hope to continue thinking about, at the very least within my own circle of friends and family. I want to ask new moms more often, "What can I do for you? How can I help you? Do you need to take a nap? Do you need bread or milk or dinner tonight? Do you need your floors cleaned? What do you need and let me make it happen for you?"

I'd encourage you to ask the same questions. It's so fun giving baby gifts, the little dresses and jeans and hats. It's one of my favorite things to do, admittedly, but I've found that when the baby comes home, moms need connection and comfort and people who understand it can be difficult to adjust to life with a baby more than they need cute clothes and blankets. Somehow, we spend nine months getting pastel-wrapped gifts and the next few months looking at a tower of dishes and empty hours with no one to help fill them. 

I was so lucky that at two months, Kyle's colic faded, we found a good routine and life became beautiful. I wish a beautiful life for every mother I know but more than that, I think it's partly our responsibility to add color in the lives of other mothers whenever and however we can.

I don't know where this little idea of mine will take me, although I know not to rule anything out. Passion's an unstoppable and funny thing. I have these visions of countless new moms feeling taken care of and confident because they were helped, not judged, but a community of women.

I made #3 on my list something attainable, taking just a few steps in the right direction of seeing this crazy idea of mine through, even though right now I'm not even sure what the idea actually is. Hey, just writing out these thoughts is step one, I'd guess.

Just like that, I'm one step closer.

I shall warm myself up with vodka

Now, before you say anything, I know you have it worse. I know your pipes routinely burst and your heat went out once when it was negative kajillion (actual thermometer reading), and you have to walk to work in blizzards and a polar bear once complained about the weather in your town. I get all that, I do, but that doesn't change the fact that TEXAS IS NOT SUPPOSED TO REACH THE TEENS. AT ALL.

Ever.

It's also not supposed to snow three times in the month of December, but Texas is apparently having a major identity crisis.

I complain for a number of reasons, but the major one is that we live in a very old, drafty, pier-and-beam home and when it's windy and below freezing, it's hard to get the temperature above 55 in our house. (Case in point: Mike's Christmas morning attire.) Except in Kyle's room. He's sweating while the rest of the house cries in cold, cold pain.

We plan to insulate the place better just as soon as we win the lottery.

It's usually not a problem because it's usually not below freezing because we are practically in Mexico and when you think of Mexico, do you think of snowstorms and temperature in the teens? No one vacations in Mexico because of their awesome ski weather, am I right?

Also, Kyle's cute little habit of pulling his socks off and throwing them is less cute when his feet freeze off.

I like to call Texas the land of the T-shirt Christmas, because you can -- more often than not -- wear exactly that during the holidays. We have our random ice storm or snow day, but it's never unbearable. It's never in the teens. Because that shit is crazy and meant for Minnesota.

I return you back to your feed readers now where real writers are finding other things to talk and/or complain about beside the weather. Until Monday, I have no motivation to rise above the urge to bitch. 

I still love you 2010. I know you had no part in this. Let's blame Jon Gosselin or Canada or something.

Favorite prints

One of my 2010 goals (again: see sidebar as the list keeps growing) is to find art for our walls. We have a small house, but prints are one thing I never think to pick up and display. Until I discovered Etsy, of course.

Here are a few of the things I hope to buy this year and find a place for in our home. 

 

This would be for Kyle's room, but in chocolate not pink. {Found at the Perideau Design's Etsy shop for $55}

 

I like this for our kitchen, where I can see it while I cook or do the dishes. {Found at the Valentina Design Etsy shop, $15}

I love displaying this just as it is, in our bedroom (the one place I'm determined to turn into a more peaceful place). {From Hijirik's Etsy shop, $25}

 

We have an upstairs bath that this might look great in. {From Rawar Letter Press' Etsy shop, $22}

 

I love this, it's a print/collage, but I'm not sure there's anywhere I could hang it without making Mike cry on a daily basis. We'll see. {Shelby Healey's Etsy shop, $85}

 

I'm not sure why I like this one so much, as it's a little reminiscient of the movie The Birds, but something about the title (To the Moon) or the colors and fading. {Eyeful's Etsy shop, $30}

 

I love everything in this Etsy shop. The colors and shapes, just fun. {Jellybean's shop, $15}

{Ciao Chelsea's shop, $30}

 

I like this for above our hampers, a reminder that although the BANE OF MY EXISTENCE, laundry can be pretty too. {Suspect Shoppe, $28}

 

Apparently I have a thing for bikes, which I can't explain even if I tried. {One Step Beyond 70's shop, $25}

*****

Also, once a week or so, Kerri puts up a Print of the Week at Style Lush. She's got an incredible eye and is way better suited to give art advice (obviously), so check there if you're now inspired.

Question: Fancy food edition

I like asking questions, as I've said before, so periodically throughout 2010, I'm going to put a question out there for you to answer. It gives me something to read in traffic. Kidding! (Or am I.....)

I was thinking about this question the other day when Jodi mentioned going to the Virginia wine country to enjoy a pricey meal at the Inn at Little Washington. That's a whole lot of money for something you can't physically see or hold an hour after you've paid for it, but good food is important to a good life, that's something Top Chef has taught me (also, bald men can be sexy; call me, Tom Colicchio). I'm trying to eat more things that excite me instead of mindlessly downing an entire bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. 

So, in that spirit, what's the most expensive meal you've ever eaten? (And, was it worth it?)

We aren't big dinner splurgers. We don't often go out and drop three digits on a date night, but every now and then for whatever reason, we end up eating a very, very good meal that costs a whole lot of money. 

Case in point: Vegas this past October. We went to Nine Fine Irishmen at New York, New York and although the menu wasn't overpriced, we ended up racking up the bill and it cost about $200. (Which we were not expecting or had budgeted for, so that was a fun, here's-your-bill moment.) But the food was INCREDIBLE and DELICIOUS and WORTH EVERY PENNY in hindsight.

Your turn.

Eleven months

Dear Kyle,

ELEVEN. MONTHS. That would be one month before twelve months and that's....well, that's nearly a year old, is what it is. I know I'm going to be a mess next month, so let me say this now: I remember so clearly, so vividly, where I was and how I felt when I wrote this letter to you two days before I said hello to you face-to-face. I remember the fear, more than anything else, because it dawned on me that day that I had no clue what I was doing. Before that I always had time in front of me to properly freak out and on that day, I didn't have much time. SO I FREAKED OUT. Depending on what day you ask your father, he may say I haven't really stopped freaking out since. I still have no clue what I'm doing.

I imagine I'm still guessing by the time you read this, too.

Yet, somehow, we're here. Eleven months later with you in one piece and me in one piece.

We're making it.

We had Christmas this month! And you were over the gifts about five minutes in, which is why we got you a total of three things, four if we're counting stocking stuffers, and I hope, hope, hope we continue to keep our Christmases light on GIFTS! and WRAPPING PAPER! and TOYS! and heavy on the three of us baking and looking at lights and playing and snuggling and being super lazy on the couch together. We tried to start a lot of traditions this year, because it was your first year and that's a big deal to me, but the most important tradition is the one where we have a nice day together, no drama, no guilt, no stress. Just us.

We also went to California this month, to visit some family and see the place I grew up, and about an hour into the trip, as we were stuck on the runway and you were screaming and the eyes of those around us glared down on me, I decided giving you these fun adventures was totally and completely overrated. NEVER TRAVELING AGAIN! I said to Mike, and I HATE TODAY! I said to anyone who would listen, but then we took you to a museum during our visit and to the zoo and to meet my favorite people, who you may not have met otherwise, and although I am very good at freaking the hell out and wringing my hands, I'm also very good at not letting those reactions stop me from doing things anyway. The flight back, I should say, was a freaking dream. The Universe is funny.

One other fun milestone was the welcoming of a new year and a new decade. 2010! What a fun ring that has? We decided to wake you up right before midnight, and I know a few mothers need to pick their mouths up off the floor, but your dad and I are weird, and we thought it'd be fun to have you with us as the clock struck midnight. You were in such a good mood and were all, "Hey, guys! What's up? Where's the party at?" And we kissed you and yelled "HAPPY NEW YEAR BUDS!" and you beamed and laughed and then went back to sleep ten minutes later. When I think of how lucky I am to have you, to know you, to be YOUR mom, I'll think of that night.

You get angrier and more woeful these days when things aren't handed right to you or when things are taken away from you and there's nothing cuter or funnier than a nearly one year old throwing a tantrum, so forgive us for all the times we've laughed directly at you when you are flailing about. You're just so cute when you're all red-faced and angry! That'll grow old, I KNOW, probably next week even, but you're a funny kid, no matter what mood you're in. I have Mom Eyes, no way around it. But, yeah, I'll be reminding you constantly of how losing that last Goldfish isn't exactly worth all those tears.

You also wave "BYE!" and lay your head down on any nearby surface when you're sleepy and throw your Cheerios or goldfish onto the floor, so you can see Molly race to retrieve them. You love the bath so much and literally try to climb into it if we don't put you in fast enough. You play better by yourself and love your soccer ball the most. Your hair is getting longer and crazier and you are still the dirtiest child I have ever met. I can't keep up with the dirt and caked-on food and snot and pieces of grass left in your hair. Oh, I love it about you though. My boy! My son!

Eleven months ago I was terrified about so many things, and I'm still terrified about a lot, that's just how life goes, always something to worry about. But being your mom doesn't scare me a bit anymore, and it hasn't since the moment I met you. I was always meant to know you. I was always meant to do this. I may not be an expert, I may not be traditional, I may not be perfect, but I love being your mother.

And I love you.

Your Mama

New year, new....lots of other things, too

New Age

I turned 28 yesterday, but to hear my new Wii Fit tell it, I turned 39. Nothing says Happy Birthday! like being told you're obese and 11 years older than you thought you were by a PLASTIC BOX, am I right? It's a little hard to rationalize a slice of birthday cake after that. Hell, it's a little hard to rationalize a slice of tomato after that, but, no fear, I still managed to have a rather nice day, especially since I got to do three of my favorite things: go to brunch, see a movie and control the TV remote.

New Celebrity Sighting

We didn't have a babysitter New Year's Eve night, so when my mom offered up her (free!) babysitting services for New Year's Day, we were all "SEE YOU AT SEVEN!" and we went on a double date with some good friends. We went to a local Mexican place in suburbia, and apparently Local Mexican Place in Suburbia is the new Spago or.....wherever else the famous kids are eating these days because the local Mexican place in suburbia is where I saw David Archuleta.

I used to rant and rave about how much I couldn't stand David Archuleta and even though he never actually did anything wrong, he was the one celebrity I most wanted to kick. I think running into him on our date night was the Universe's way of proving to anyone who knows me what a total shit TALKER I am instead of shit STARTER. When presented with the chance to actually kick him, I tweeted instead. Yeah, I'm so bad ass. DAVID, FEAR ME AND MY SOCIAL MEDIA SKILLS.

In other news, he was wearing skinny jeans and, well, no. Just no, David.

New Hair

In case you missed it. (Go here to advise me on new makeup for the new hair!)

New Item Scratched Off the 2010 Goal List

I'm kicking ass at 2010, I don't mind saying. Last night, I spent a good portion of my birthday (willingly) entering every address I have into a file box I was given for Christmas 2008. It took hours -- ooooh, the hand cramps! -- but it's done! (I've also added a couple more things to my sidebar list and took charge of some HTML code to cross out what I've finished so far.)

New Budget

I worked up a budget for January, and if we stick to it, January won't be a nail-biting, penny-pinching, WHERE DID OUR MONEY GO? fun fest like every month of 2009. The silver lining to acting like an adult, I suppose.

New Kyle Trick

He waves, for the most part, although not when he has a room full of people waiting for him to wave because that wouldn't be humiliating at all for his mother. He is also learning to wave with just his hand and now his entire body, SPAZ ALERT, and you should know that the fact he'll be a year old in a month is so staggering until I think of all the milestones he's hit this year, and I'm all, Only a year? My oh my, feels you've been impressing the hell out of me all my life.

What's new with you?

Happy 2010!

Happy new year! I've got a new hair color but the same old sidekick. Things are looking good.