Friday, August 12, 2005


The time has finally arrived. Vacation is here. I will officially be unblogging until my return on Sunday, August 21st. I hope to return somewhat relaxed and less stressed, ready to begin the school year with much gusto.

A fond adieu until I return.

Thursday, August 11, 2005


I think Genny must have had leftover doctor bad vibes today because she was a little crank-meister. She may in fact have been feeling a bit yucho from the shots and she appears to be getting her two eyeteeth in. She was fine for my friend who babysat while I went to work, but once I got home, she wouldn’t nap and was screaming and crying nonstop for many moons, or so it felt.

I seem to have pulled a muscle or twisted something in my upper back/right shoulder type of area. I can barely turn my head to the right. It happened last month, too, but then healed quickly. I don’t even recall tweaking it at all.

That’s it. I don’t know. I just feel kind of flat emotionally tonight. Neither here nor there. I need to stretch out again and see if I can work out some of this pain. It’s amazing how pain can stop our entire ability to function at times and then at other times, we can snow plow through physical, emotional and spiritual pain. Maybe mine is a whole combo situation right now—stress from different areas nudging the others over the edge.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

21 Pounds, Give or Take

Off the high of yesterday’s good mood—today I splatted like a bug against the windshield of a semi-truck. I watched in horror as it happened, the truck’s window nearing my face and I powerless to stop it.

It all began when Genny wouldn’t take a morning nap and for some reason I found myself in the middle of a coma like need for sleep. Genny pooped all over her own foot thanks to a misaligned diaper. Then her afternoon nap, which should have been miraculously long turned out to last only forty minutes.

Then Genny and I needed to travel into the city for her doctor’s appointment (yes, her year-old one, and yes, she’s well into her fourteenth month). We were lucky enough to encounter not one, but two un-air-conditioned trains. We waited at the bank for twenty minutes to take care of some business and finally gave up and left when Genny’s cries were drowning out the muzak. Not to mention that while we waited, a gussied-up blonde sat next to us looking all lovely, wearing heels and a mini and I felt like one of those, dare I say it, moms, slumping in her old shorts, tee and unwashed hair. Yes, I cursed her quietly. I felt like screaming to the world, “I look that good, too! Just give me a couple of hours in a salon and spa, buy me a new wardrobe and hire me a nanny and I’ll outshine you anytime!”

Then a doctor’s visit for Genny where three needles were popped into her tasty little thighs. She’s wonderfully healthy, 21 pounds and either 2 or 12 ounces, unsure of which (bad mom syndrome again).

So, that’s the day. And now day is done.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005


Nick made a good suggestion on how to handle my days with Genevieve, which seemed to work pretty well today. I imagined taking care of Gen as my “job” and she as my boss whom I was responsible to. My main focus when I was with her was taking care of her, playing and learning. I looked at any few moments I could spare toward my own endeavors as a bonus. And she wasn’t such a tough boss today.

I discovered my tolerance level for caffeine. My new theory was that I would begin to allow myself a little bit each day to help fight off the fatigue I’ve been feeling. Well, a Dunkin’ Donuts Turtle Nut Latte, a homemade coffee concoction and a Starbucks decaf mint mocha chip Frappucino is too much. Lesson learned—I developed an ocular migraine with a throbbing in my left eye socket like someone was drilling.

I somehow managed to wash my system out with lots of water and was able to make it to my now weekly new yoga client. I still have more work to do tonight, so I better make this closing quick and snappy, like—may all the babies all over the world sleep well tonight.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Taking Out the Trash

I think Genny must have been sensing how stressed I’ve been because she actually took two good naps today. I took a half an hour nap in the morning and then got the laundry and some writing done in the afternoon.

I was still pretty edgy with Gen when she threw all her food on the floor, but I just ended the meals as soon as the food started flying. By dinnertime she must have been pretty hungry because she ate a full jar of chicken dices, and four big crackers dunked in pear yogurt.

The rest of the day was pretty much a taking out the trash type of day. We went to the Jackson Heights Parent’s Group in the morning where Genny crawled all over the dirty church floor with four other toddlers. We did the grocery shopping and went to the playground.

I didn’t find any good trash though. I’ve been getting lucky of late: I found a Chinese screen, an almost brand new baby walker, and a two-wheel bike for Genny. I am the queen of garbage picking, of course, I don’t know if I should really be bragging on about that.

My mood seems to be equalizing a bit. Hopefully, next week’s vacation will ease my soul. That’s it for tonight.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

The Me in Mommy

What is it with babies and mornings? What is it with babies and wanting to cling to mommies all the time? What is it with sharp little finger and toenails that can slice like those magic knives they used to advertise as cutting through tin cans?

It is a day for questions. Answers are not so readily available. I feel as though I am floating through reality and time—neither here and now nor there and later. I am like a guppy being tossed through a turbulent river that twists and winds and has no foreseeable end, at least not for eighteen years.

I am a mommy. That is who I am. There seems to be no way to deny it or step around it. There is no dance that will alleviate the fact. I am a mommy. And as my therapist pointed out, there’s no “me” in “mommy” (although there is a “me” sound, so maybe that should count for something). Maybe somehow someone (whoever decides on how all these mommy things work) should work in some non-mommy time for mommy.

Baby could wave “bye-bye” as she evaporates into thin air to be babysat by whomever that someone is who could do such a thing as to create a creature that never wants to give mom a break. That mom would laugh and wave bye, too. She would not worry, knowing her little darling rested easily and gently under the most watchful eyes.

And what would mom do? After the shock of having one free moment for her own brain and soul wore off, she would rip off all her clothes and luxuriate in a warm bubble bath. She would skip off to Starbucks with her pen and paper in hand and find the big comfy chair by the window reserved for her. Free-flowing Frappucinos would be pumped into her veins. A most contented buzz would well up in the pit of her throat as she felt her face relax for the first time since baby had been born.

Later that day, baby would be returned with a clean diaper and jammies on. She would be resting peacefully in her crib. She would sleep until seven in the morning the next day. And the “me” would be back in mommy.