Attitude of gratitude

Those buttery pretzel bites at the mall are addictive.

After indoor noshing and playing at the mall, Genny, Cole and I headed for a friend’s place where we went swimming. I was proud of myself for getting right into the cold water. Cole was loving being in the pool. He has no fear of cold.

I learned how to make homemade baby food. So easy. At first I thought baby jarred food is so cheap—less than one dollar a serving! Then I realized Cole’s going through three servings a day. That’ll add up. I may actually start being a happy little homemaker! (No, not really, just a little.)

Actually, seeing our friend holding Cole and loving it made me appreciate what we have. And perhaps also seeing the child in a wheelchair at the mall. I consciously said to myself, I am grateful.

Cole fell asleep in his car seat on our way home this evening and I thought he’d be out for awhile, but he just woke up. I nursed him and he went right back out.

It is Friday evening. Here I am. My family healthy and safe.

Remembering

I’ve just learned that a good friend of my mother’s died in Long Island Sound.

I feel so sad for his wife and family.

I told Genny and she said that he is now in heaven with Grandma Mary and Grandma Alice.

Rest in peace, Ray.

Looking for work

I don’t know what happened to my baby today. He was awake from seven am until three pm then he had just a little bit over an hour nap. That’s it. And he’s been cranking and drooling and squealing nonstop. And I have a feeling he’s not going to want to sleep now either.

As much as I can, I’ve been job hunting today. Nick’s work has been intermittent and I want to help financially if I can. Teaching is kind of out for now since it’s summer and takes too many hours.

I’m looking for editing or writing or yoga teaching jobs. I don’t know how exactly I’ll manage any of these things, but I’ll try.

Looking for work got me to thinking about why I used to only look for nude work when I was young. How strange that I only thought to look for naked jobs. I guess that’s all I thought I had to offer. How nice to have other options now.

Oh boy. Cole is crying. I must go.

Quiet

Another miracle day.

Genny’s grandparents took her to see the movie “Up” this afternoon. They are out for dinner as I type.

Cole is napping upstairs.

I just ate a salmon burger at my desk while surfing the Internet.

And now it is just me in the room. Sitting and typing and enjoying the cool, rainy weather.

I almost don’t know what to do with myself all by myself. Should I work? Should I write? Should I watch television for the first time in months? The possibilities are endless.

It’s actually quite nice just imagining all my choices.

But if I am correct, I do hear some baby stirrings. It was lovely while it lasted.

A Third?!

I told Nick not to trip on the three wise men outside our house this morning. Yes, it’s true. We had a little Christmas in July here last night. A miracle. Cole only woke up one time.

How he goes from up five times a night to one time is beyond me, but I don’t mind about that, as Genny would say. I await without my breath held to see what will happen tonight.

I finally got my first period after having given birth. It really got me thinking about whether Nick and I will have another baby now that my body is saying it’s physically ready again. Of course, my brain isn’t saying anything like that yet.

Since I’m no longer that young, if we’re going to have another baby, it will have to be sooner than later. But how soon?

It’s a hot topic for me because as much as I’d like to have a big family, the pregnancy and early years part is so tough for me. I know Nick would do all that tough stuff if he could, but alas, he will not be the world’s second pregnant man.

I can see how it is probably true though, that after two, adding a third is no big deal.

We’ll see about that.

Strippers in Training

Genny, Cole, and I kept busy this afternoon by going to the Connecticut Post Mall in Milford. After visiting the bookstore (and purchasing Rainbow Fairy sticker and stencil books—score!), we made our way down the long deserted hallway toward Playtown, stopping briefly at Pretzel Time for some pretzel bites (Oh my goodness—hot pretzel delights drizzled with butter and salt and probably sugar!).

After Genny’s requisite climbing fun, we went to the pet store located right next to it (at the Trumbull Mall they have a candy store right next to their Playtown—ah…the genius!) and pet a $1600 Chihuahua named Bumbles, or something.

Walking back down the hallway toward our minivan after testing out all the mattresses in Sears, we went into a fancy dress store to see the “princess” dresses. As we worked our way back into the tulle madness we encountered what can only be described as stripper gowns.

Stripper gowns are what must be worn in higher end strip clubs in New York. They usually look like a prom dress on crack. Just like these today.

There was one so awful and so stripperly that I had to remark to the saleslady, “Wow—you must have a lot of strippers shop here, huh?”

She looked at ME like I was on crack.

“What? NO! These are prom dresses!”

“You mean this one here with the slit up to the crotch in pink and zebra print? That’s a prom dress? You’re joking, right?”

“No, actually, that one is quite tame. You should see what they wear to their proms nowadays.”

I looked from her to the stripper gown in horror. I’m sorry, I mean, the “prom” dress.

Horror.

Summer is here

Today was all about being hot, sweaty, and uncomfortable. Ugh. Carting around two kids in a minivan in 86 degree heat made me wistful for the old summer days I remember before I was mommed.

I’d stop at a deli, buy a hard salami sandwich with a pickle, drive down to the beach with my windows unrolled and the music cranked. I’d let the breeze whip my hair into my mouth. I’d sing.

I’d lie down on the hot sand in a teeny-tiny bikini and know I looked great. The heat would soak me raw and hot. I’d walk down to the water to cool off.

I could spend my whole day doing nothing and being responsible for absolutely nothing. Maybe I’d take a nap later on and just chill out.

I just noticed the stubby end of a pretzel stick that Genny left for me on my desk.

She made cherry juice earlier.

She actually helped water the garden and only complained once.

Cole is sleeping. Genny is sleeping.

And I just finished a cool glass of ice tea.

Into It

Genny’s latest cute saying, “I’m into apple juice now. Yeah, I’m really into it right now.”

I’m into the need for sleep right now.

Boomba

I think Cole set an all new record for least amount of naptime in one day. He slept for only 30 minutes two times today. That is not much for a 7-month old.

I’ve been getting crankier as the day wears on. I barely got any work done.

Yo—chill out, Mom.

Man, I really do need to lighten up on myself, but then I remind myself that I’ll never succeed in life if I don’t keep pushing past my limitations.

Cole’s word of the day was boomba.

Progress

Genny is full of beans today.

She’s taken to calling me Sheila a lot.

I didn’t mind when she did it every once in awhile, but now it seems she’s doing it to get me going.

And when she doesn’t get her way she makes the most awful pout ever.

I was getting Cole undressed for his bath and he was crying, so I said, “Don’t you like baths, Cole?”

Genny from across the room said, “He doesn’t like you.”

I looked at her and she bit her hair.

Of course, five minutes later she rushed into the bathroom to help bathe Cole. I try to let as many of her little annoyances go by as I can, but sometimes she’s just pushing me too hard.

Cole was only up twice last night. True, he didn’t go to bed until 10:30, but this is progress.

Five Boxes A Weekend!

Nick and I have started a new blog called Five Boxes.

We have pledged ourselves to clearing out five boxes a weekend from our basement. Nick estimates there's about 200 boxes of stuff down there. We are going to share our journey through too much stuff with you.

You'll share all the sorting excitement as we struggle through almost 100 years of stuff. We're sure to come up against all our issues as we sort and sift and decide what to keep, what to sell, and what to throw away!

Stuff

For some reason Cole can’t seem to sleep longer than two hours at a time. Last night was awful. I took him into bed with me and he used my nipple as a nuk, not actually nursing and emptying out the milk, but just suckling. The second I would try to reclaim my breast for myself, he’d wake up and cry. So I had an overfilled right breast all day.

And then he barely napped today. Ugh. I should be sleeping now, but this is my time to get a few things done.

We harvested broccoli from our garden! And we have corn stalks almost as tall as me. Pretty cool. Nick is quite the farmer.

The Other Slide

I've got another nagging depression biting at my ankles.

I'm having agent problems--as in, my agent won't return my phone calls or emails. I'm still feeling sick. Cole is only happy when in a lap. And I'm tired. Plus all the other annoyances that include my grandmother making me nutso.

On a lighter note, Genny told a great joke unknowingly today.

"Mommy, why did the chicken cross the road?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"To get to the other slide!"

"The other slide?"

"Yeah! That's funny, right? I guess he was at one playground and there was another one across the street!"

That's my new fave joke.

Sleep Deprivation

This is a nursing blog. Cole sucks away, which makes typing difficult.

What do I need to strip away tonight?

I need to reexamine Stripper Mom and figure out what I want to focus on.

What do I want to write about?

I do not know tonight.

I want to sleep.

Full of grouchiness

There's nothing like being peed and pooped on to make a day great.

Enough about that subject...

Cole poked me full force in the eyeball with a sharp fingernail.

Besides the eyeball pain, I also have a headache and a shoulderache.

Cole was screaming for apparently no reason for most of the day. And he only had itsy-bitsy naps.

Fortunately, Genny was in better spirits, until she rolled off the couch and walloped her head on the wood floor.

Did anything good happen today?

Why yes, I somehow managed to get two pages done on my graphic novel project. I have no idea how.

Roles

I’m wondering what truth is anymore. I’m wondering whom I speak to when I write my words. I’m wondering who I was and who I am.

Who will my children know me as? When I am old and need to be driven to the grocery store, what will they tell their spouses when they talk about me afterward?

I know I am not the only one who is right.

But I am wondering how and why I became the caretaker. I don’t feel like I ever chose the role, rather it snuck up and clobbered me on the head, said, “You’re mine. Now get to work.”

Perhaps I just need to accept this role. And all the other roles I play.

And the roles I played, that are now quite played out.

Get ‘er Done

I’m still just getting better—not all better yet.

I’ve been doing a good job of keeping up with my writing. It truly amazes me that I’m getting so much more writing done since I became a mother.

I wasted so much time as a non-parent. I would think nothing of watching three hours of television an evening. I don’t even know what shows are on TV anymore.

Have other parents experienced this upsurge in creativity since becoming a parent?

And for you non-parents, how do you keep yourself working and not being distracted by all our digital era offers?

Storytime

Here is a funny stripper mom commercial. This would never fly in the United States.

I’m wiped out. I took Genny and Cole to the pajama storytime at the library.

Cole threw up pear sauce and breast milk all over him and me.

Genny actually sat in the circle with the other girls. She still looks to the others for how to act though. She laughs when they laugh. She copies. She follows.

I’m hoping that this year being the oldest at her Montessori School will force her into being a leader.

I want her to lead. I don’t want her to conform.

My Life In a G-String: A Round Up of Stripper Memoirs

Here’s an interesting article that my friend Tanya told me about. It’s round-up of stripper memoirs.

I agree with the writer, Katie Roiphe, on a few points she makes, but also feel annoyed at the unfair treatment the stripper writers receive.

Are all naked women pretty much the same? Reading stripper memoirs would lead one to think so. It is a surprisingly rigid genre, with a set of rules and conventions as strict as those of sonnets or villanelles.

Of course, there are “conventions” as Roiphe points out, but what books about a certain group of people don’t have conventions? Alas, there are a lot of similarities to some strippers’ experiences.

You would think the subject would have a certain voyeuristic frisson, but something about stripping lends itself to cliché and obviousness, to the literary equivalent of fake breasts and caked mascara and silver thongs. Still a vast number of them have appeared on shelves, including Lily Burana’s good-natured Strip City, Elisabeth Eaves’ journalistic Bare, and Lacey Lane’s ditsy Confessions Of A Stripper.

True, I’ve read these books and there is a bit of cliché laid on, but that just reflects the job. And for there being “a vast number” of stripper memoirs out there, I’d have to disagree. How are a small handful of books “a vast number”? I’d say there aren’t enough (and not just because my memoir hasn’t found a publisher yet).

How many clichéd white male diatribes about the same old business thing are there out there?

We need more tales of strippers and prostitutes and mothers and clerks and waitresses. We need more stories told by women. Perhaps then we will begin to see the true extent of the similarities and differences inherent in women.

....StripXpertease.... The Strip and the Tease.

....StripXpertease.... The Strip and the Tease.

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I just stumbled upon this blog that reposted my Salon article from 2000 with the writer's comments.

She teaches a striptease class.

I've had my own thoughts along these lines...of course, with my own strange twists!

Life is short.

I love it when people take what they've done and find new ways to monetize it and empower themselves and others.