tales of a reluctant boat owner

pink pink pink

2009-03-12T14:01:00.002-05:00

I can't believe we're having a girl. What's more, I can't believe how excited I am.

Wow.

excuse du jour

2009-02-27T17:06:00.001-06:00

I was just thinking that if I could figure out how to get more sleep, I would write more. I really do still have stories.

three things

2009-02-19T13:25:00.003-06:00

I've decided to focus on things that make me happy. My strategy over the next few weeks is doing whatever it takes to make myself more open to finding joy and discovering bliss and experiencing happiness in my life.

But, I'm not exactly sure what really makes me happy.

I know what makes me sad.

I can articulate quite easily what makes me angry.

I can even make a fairly on target stab at what makes me laugh.

But happy?

I've just never really put much thought in happy. I just am. Right?

But, if I were going to narrow it down to three things for me to focus on in order to take advantage of bliss they would be (off the top of my head):

1. Spending more time with the boys. Snuggling and playing and just watching them be kids.
2. Cooking. Trying new things. Being more daring with recipes. Thinking more about what we eat.
3. Going on adventures. Even in my backyard. Taking full advantage of all adventures that present themselves without over thinking.

Is it just me, or does it seem a bit strange that organizing and cleaning and general shaping my world up didn't make the list. I think my priorities have been a little bit wonked.

smiles

2009-02-15T13:13:00.003-06:00

Have you ever had one of those weeks that just make you smile when you look back on it. Everything from Z's chocolate festival dance to kid's valentines parties.

It seems like I only write about dilemmas and confusion and struggle, which just happens to be only a very tiny part of my life.

Things are good.

And I am happy.

decisions

2009-02-09T19:55:00.009-06:00

I never intended this blog to turn into a chronicle of how my advanced maternal age affects my pregnancy. For that matter, I never really intended this blog to turn into any sort of periodic update on how this sweet little human is growing inside of me.

But this is all I've got right now.

We decided not to have amniocentesis. And it feels like there is so much more in that decision than is implied in those six words. They are heavy and they are strong and they don't come easily. I am under no illusions that our decision would be the right one for anyone else. Ever.

After thinking and talking and soul searching, we realized that we wouldn't terminate this pregnancy if we discovered that this baby has down's syndrome. I feel so shallow for even wrestling with the decision, but I did. I put such a premium on cognitive interaction. I love to debate and to think and to explore. What if I'm not strong enough? What if I fail this child just because of some chromosomal subtraction? How superficial is that?

In the end it just came down to the fact that we love this baby and every single second is a gift.

No matter what.

And when we decided that, the risks, however slight, were just too much.

moments

2009-01-26T15:20:00.002-06:00

There are fleeting moments that I forget that I'm pregnant. The constant nauseousness is, for the most part, gone. The overwhelming smells are fading into background noise. And, when I'm perfectly still and just breathing, there is still plenty of room for all of me.

But then, I have to move and feel the tightness in my clothes and all the new aches and stretching and it all makes me smile.

I'm falling in love with this baby, and I can't wait to be this baby's mommy.

I love my boy

2009-01-21T22:20:00.003-06:00

Moon: Z, how many cats do you have?

Z: Hmmmm. Two.

Moon: Are they nice cats?

Z: Hmmmm. They are on the nice list.

Moon: What are their names?

Z: Hmmmm. (See a trend, here?) Neo Fight Cat and Liberty Bad Evil Cat

help me

2009-01-20T10:43:00.003-06:00

Excuse me while I throw a massive fit.

I am completely overwhelmed.

I am so behind on laundry that I don't know how to get caught up.

This kitchen is too trashed to cook in.

There is dust everywhere.

The bathrooms are an embarrassment.

The kids need to have all their clothes put up in their closets.

I don't have any idea what to cook for a family that has such a different idea of nutrition than I do.

When my children misbehave, it is apparently because I spoil them.

I have so much paperwork to do that I don't even know where to start.

My clothes don't fit.

My car has an oil leak.

I am not prepared for my Thursday board meeting.

I am not prepared for all of my other obligations.

I am tired of paying for my past.

I'm not sleeping.

I'm not exercising.

I'm not thinking.

I don't have time to fix this.

bullets again

2009-01-16T10:58:00.002-06:00

I need new clothes. I have this silly aversion to shopping, which means that all of my black sweaters are flirting with gray and too short to cover my growing belly.
I'm not crazy about abstinence t-shirts on 13-year-old girls. I think it objectifies them.
Does this make me an old prude?
I think that girls don't get to be kids long enough anymore.
What if I have a girl?
But I was a very late bloomer. Maybe she would be, too.
I want to build an airstrip/marina at the lake.
Maybe it will get me closer to being able to fly.
I keep reading cocktail recipes.
Just to be prepared.
Last night, I would have killed for a smoothie.
Tonight, I will have all the ingredients I need on hand.
Turns out, blender is key.
Who knew?
I don't like churches in strip centers or metal buildings.
I feel the same way about banks.
Some institutions need to have the illusion of permanence.
Z had a tough morning.
I hope he has a good day.
The Griff declared that he's naming the next baby.
He also declared that it should be a boy because he want triple nerf guns.
Most of my friends think it's a girl.
Except for Franky.
He just laughs and reminds me of the curse.
Which he said he would lift after this boy.

relief

2009-01-14T14:44:00.002-06:00

I still remember the empty sadness that I felt when I had my first miscarriage. I was sixteen weeks pregnant, which was far enough along that miscarriage was the farthest thing from my mind. I remember relaxing after the first trimester. I remember reading all the pregnancy books and dreaming about names and falling in love with the potential of that baby. I remember when my due date came and went and it was just another day. I remember the dreams that I had about impossible to save babies. And I remember when it didn't hurt so bad anymore.

I remember how shocked I was when I found out I was having a second miscarriage. I was using a supposedly fool proof method of birth control, and I didn't even know I was pregnant until I started losing that baby. I didn't have the same kind of sadness or emptiness or despair. I didn't mourn the potential of that child.

And I remember thinking how strange it all was when I lost my third pregnancy. It was so early that everything just felt clinical.

I needed something tangible to show me that this baby is fine. That it is growing and developing and tumbling through life. I needed to see the flutter of its heart and watch its body move inside of me. Now I believe that everything will be alright.

on my mind

2009-01-13T10:08:00.002-06:00

I have this one Lucinda Williams song stuck on repeat in my head. And since I can't seem to put together a coherent post even though I have so many random stories right on the edge of being able to tackle, I'm leaving you with the lyrics. It really is a pretty song.

Are You Alright

Are you alright?
All the sudden you went away.
Are you alright?
I hope you come back around someday.
Are you alright?
I haven't seen you in a real long time.
Are you alright?
Could you give me some kind of sign.
Are you alright?
I looked around me and you were gone.
Are you alright?
I feel like there must be something wrong.
Are you alright?
'Cause it seems like you disappeared.
Are you alright?
'Cause I been feeling a little scared.
Are you alright?

Chorus:
Are you sleeping through the night?
Do you have someone to hold you tight?
Do you have someone to hang out with?
Do you have someone to hug and kiss you,
Hug and kiss you,Hug and kiss you?
Are you alright?

Are you alright?
Is there something been bothering you?
Are you alright?
I wish you'd give me a little clue.
Are you alright?
Is there something you wanna say?
Are you alright?
Just tell me that you're okay.
Are you alright?
'Cause you took off without a word.
Are you alright?
You flew away like a little bird.
Are you alright?
Is there anything I can do?
Are you alright?
'Cause I need to hear from you.
Are you alright?

Chorus

Are you alright?
Are you alright?
Hey...

naughty list

2009-01-09T11:10:00.002-06:00

This year was the first year that Z really got Christmas. He loved the lights and tree and the presents and, really, everything about the holidays.

He even embraced the idea of a nice list and a naughty list.

The whole Santa thing isn't something that gets stressed in my house. There is no omnipotent, jolly old man who gets to be the harbinger of discipline. There is no blatant threat of withholding presents if the boys don't behave. Even if there might have been ONE night that I mentioned that I would take back all of the presents if the boys didn't stop with their bickering. But only one.

One night, Z asked me if he was on the nice list. I told him he was, and he said, "Thank you, thank you, Mommy."

Right then and there, I should have known something was up. (It always is with Z.)

Fast forward to last night.

The boys were supposed to be cleaning their rooms. Instead, they were arguing about who really dumped out all of the action figures - - not dolls, mind you. I heard Z screech. A few seconds later, he stomped into the living room and exclaimed that Griff was on the naughty list. He even gave me a thumbs down sign just to take away any question that I might have.

Griff rolled his eyes and launched into a diatribe about why that was not actually the case.

When he was done, Griff looked over at Z. Z didn't say a word. He just slowly made a thumbs up sign with his fist and turned it down punctuating the movement with silent tears.

fanatic

2009-01-09T07:29:00.004-06:00

For some reason, I had a really hard time explaining myself yesterday to my best friend. Usually, I'm not at a loss for words, but I was tired and stressed and, really, not that hacked off. All that combined for me coming off like a complete crank.

So, here is attempt number two.

I live in Oklahoma, so football is apparently life. It's everywhere. All.The.Time. There are days that I feel like I went to a university attached to a football team instead of the other way around. I don't like that football becomes so all consuming. I don't like that football trumps the academic successes of the students. And I don't like negative fandom. For that matter, I'm not crazy about anything being defined by what they are not. For the record, I am perfectly fine with rivalry. And with bedlam. And with trash talk when those teams are playing each other.

But when they're not...SHUT UP.

What is accomplished by the whole my friend is my enemy's enemy? What superficial tripe.

When I see fans from the University of Oklahoma degrading Texas any other time than during the OU/Texas game, I think it makes them look stupid. I saw this super cute girl in a shirt walking through the park on an amazing Spring day that said something like, "Beat the Rush, hate Texas early." It wasn't even football season. I just rolled my eyes AGAIN.

It just seems to me that much more is accomplished by rooting for your conference to do well which gives that much more credibility to the football teams in that conference. Even after typing all of this, it sounds so superficial. I honestly don't care about the football part of this discussion. I think that there is too much negativity in sports in general, and I think die hard fanatics perpetuate that negativity exponentially.

I know that somewhere in here is my real issue. I also know that it has nothing to do with football.

ten weeks

2009-01-07T14:51:00.004-06:00

I'm sitting here in a daze. The only thing I want is to hear my baby's heartbeat. I want something tangible to prove to myself that this baby is alive. That I'm not imagining things. That my body hasn't betrayed me again and I am just harboring a twisted mass of cellular trash instead of a baby. I have to wait one more week for an ultrasound.

Seven days.

One hundred sixty-two hours.

I am trying to be positive. I am trying to believe. But I am really, really scared.

When I first considered that I might be pregnant, I silently wished that it wouldn't be true. I wished for my life to stay just like it was. I didn't want to introduce anything new. I wasn't sure that I was cut out to be someone else's mom. I didn't think that I had enough in me to give to anyone else. I didn't want to do anything else to rock the boat.

Then I took a pregnancy test.

And another.

And another.

And everything changed. All that uncertainty went away.

I want this baby. I want this baby to grow and develop and be.

I am trying to stay positive. I am trying to believe. But, I am still really, really scared.

dressing for the ocassion

2009-01-04T18:33:00.004-06:00

I think I need to find more reasons to wear dresses in '09. Maybe even dresses with crinoline.

2009 booklist

2008-12-24T09:44:00.005-06:00

I have so much work and relative nonsense to get done before this Christmas thing happens. I still haven't finished Christmas present shopping or house cleaning or even thought about cooking. And don't even get me started on how much work I need to get done by the end of the year.

I'm thinking our San Antonio holiday adventure is going to consist of me spending a whole lot of time in the hotel room working.

Ho ho ho!

So, since I've been procrastinating (something I do not wear like a badge, for the record), here is my 2009 reading list. I ended up reading much more off the list than I planned last year, so there are lots of repeats.

Here is to a year of reading.

A Chicago Tavern: A Goat, a Curse, and the American Dream by Rick Kogan
A Crime So Monsterous: Face to Face with Modern Day Slavery by E. Benjamin Skinner
A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini
Blood River by Tim Butcher
Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal
Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
In the Country of Men by Hisham Matar
Mister Pip by Lloyd Jones
Ray by Barry Hannah
Song of My Fathers: A New Orleans Story in Black and White by Tom Sancton
The Adventures of Augi March by Saul Bellow
The Birth House: A Novel by Ami McKay
The Gathering by Annie Enright
The Grass Dancer by Susan Power
The Hummingbird's Daughter by Luis Alberto Urrea
The Loss of Leon Meed: A Novel by Josh Emmons
The Making of a Southerner by Katharine Du Pre Lumpkin
The Secret River by Kate Grenville
The Visible World by Mark Slouka
The Year of Pleasures: A Novel by Elizabeth Berg
They Call Me Red by Orhan Pamuk
Three Day Road by Joseph Boyden
Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

sterilized wrath

2008-12-15T13:27:00.002-06:00

I was talking to my mother a couple of days ago, and just mentioned that one of my friends is getting married very soon. She also mentioned that his mother told her that she expected that they would try to have a baby right away.

And that seriously pissed me off. Just in theory, though.

Because in practice, I am absolutely thrilled for them and the possibilities.

But back to why I am hacked. I am quite aware of the slippery slope I'm peering down.

See, he has two beautiful babies with his first wife. Granted, both babies were a bit of a surprise. And, granted, lovely ex-wife might have said something like she wished she'd never had children with him. Wench. After surprise baby number two, they, together, decided that they did not want to have any more children. They, together, decided that their family was complete, And, they, together, decided that SHE would have a tubal ligation to prevent further surprise babies.

HE wasn't the one who took his baby making options off the shelf even though he was part of the decision about being done. And she was very young.

So now. New bride. New life. Voila babies.

There is just something in this that seems inequitable. I know that sterilization procedures aren't permanent, and I don't know if she ever regrets having the tubal ligation, but it just feels wrong that he has no consequences from backing out on his decision not to have more children.

There is just something about this that absolutely infuriates me when this happens with the second/third/fourth trophy wife. Just because men can get their partner pregnant when they are in their seventies, it does not make them a father.

I know that I haven't fully articulated why I reacted so strongly. But I did. And I still do. I wish I understood why.

and what with all the crying

2008-12-13T09:52:00.000-06:00

Last night, I was snuggled in my bed watching a sappy movie with both of my boys asleep in my arms. We were so warm and comfortable and it was all just about perfect. Then I got to thinking about this baby. I don't have three arms. I don't know if I have a big enough heart to love another kid like I do the boys.

I'm a little bit scared.

t and a

2008-12-10T08:59:00.000-06:00

My clothes are TIGHT. This is ridiculous.

I'm turning into one of those girls that people look at and say, "She'd be cute if she ate some salad."

Dang.

hardy prairie stock

2008-12-09T07:23:00.002-06:00

I am terrible at being pregnant. Terrible. So bad, that one of my cousins was freaked out afraid when she finally decided to have a baby because she figured her body would react like mine. It didn't. Lucky wench.

The first time I was pregnant, I had debilitating morning sickness. I couldn't eat. I couldn't think. I just cried and cried and cried. And then I had a miscarriage at 16 weeks. I thought that wasn't supposed to happen after you made it through the first trimester. But it did. Looking back on it, I was much too young to have a baby and I was definitely married to the wrong guy. We separated less than a month after I lost that baby. Whew.

The second time I was pregnant. I found out when I miscarried. I was even on birth control. That is when I decided that I would take absolute responsibility for my body. I just believed that I knew myself much better than any pill or shot or patch ever could.

When I got pregnant with the Griff, I knew almost immediately. Then I convinced myself that it was all in my head. It is supposed to be difficult to get pregnant, and I couldn't have possibly gotten pregnant the first time we tried. But then I went to the Mont and ordered a swirl. I. Love. Swirls. They are this frozen sangria/margarita combination that is to die for. The one I ordered tasted like ass. I couldn't drink it. That night, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive.

The first trimester was nasty. I was miserable and was on bed rest twice by the time I was twelve weeks pregnant. Goodness. It sucked. Big hammered donkey balls. Things sailed along nicely for most of the rest of my pregnancy until my blood pressure skyrocketed about three weeks before he was due. So, more bed rest.

I went into labor at midnight on his due date. And he was perfect. My goodness I love that kid.

Fast forward six years later and one more miscarriage and voila Z.

I thought that we were done.

observations abbreviated

2008-12-08T10:59:00.005-06:00

I just got back into town from a week spent between Washington DC and New York City. I'm still a little shell shocked from the traveling. While I recover my wits, here is a first impression bullet post.

DC Metro is by far cleaner and much more user friendly than the NYC subway system.
I realized that I didn't really see people when I was walking in NYC. I do when I walk down the sidewalks here. Weird.
Speaking of not seeing people, at the MoMA, there was this exhibition that you took off your shoes and lounged in this big carpeted room with a giant round "couch" in the center. There were hundreds of people basically alone together watching massive morphtastic montages of flowers and wild boars and strawberries and people.
I was surprised at how small the skating rink at Rockefeller Center was. I think that I expected bigger than life. Not that I was at all disappointed. Not even a little bit.
I loved the Top of the Rock. Especially since we could see the Empire State Building. And the lines were much, much shorter.
I loved Bryant Park.
I wasn't so enamored by Times Square, but I am glad we walked through. It felt like the Disney Land of New York City. Bubba Gump? Applebees? That really wasn't what I came to see.
I did love Murray Hill and walking through Soho and Little Italy.
And I am so glad that we got to go to the theatre. August: Osage County. It was amazing. And we had absolutely perfect seats.
The Oyster Bar was an experience
Junior's cheesecake was amazing
And we even got to watch the pizza's being made at Grimaldi's. I'm still a little shocked that the guy pulling the pizzas out of the brick oven never tossed one of those pies completely off the counter.
I expected it to be much colder walking back to Manhattan over the Brooklyn Bridge.
The crowds at Macy's were overwhelming, but I had to have gloves. It was dang cold.
And I loved the snow.

changes afoot

2008-12-01T11:26:00.001-06:00

Just when I think I'm getting things into some sort of calm, sustainable rhythm, the universe giggles loudly and shakes my world up.

The next year is going to be a wild ride, folks.

And I'm going to try to chronicle all the messy details.

thankfully: a list

2008-11-26T09:22:00.003-06:00

I can't believe that it's already Thanksgiving. This year has certainly been a whirlwind, and I have lots and lots of things to be thankful for.

1. Anniversary. Ten years. Wow. Not that there haven't been days that I would've place even money odds on us not making here, I am so thankful that we made it. I'm looking forward to running away to New York City next week to celebrate.

2. The Griff. That boy teaches me more about life and love and compassion than I could possibly ever imagine. I still remember the first day I brought him home and watched him sleeping on my legs. He taught me how to be still. I am thankful every single day for him.

3. Z. What is there to say? His eyes sparkle with mischief and life. He approaches the world with complete gusto. Everything he does is larger than life. And his sense of humor is amazing. He loves completely. I am so very blessed to get to be his mother.

4. Job. I don't talk about my job much here except to occasionally make allusions to some of the random chaos. What I don't say is how thankful I am to work in a place that makes a difference in peoples lives. My job challenges me and forces me to stand up and be out there. And I get to work with some pretty amazing people. How cool is that?

5. Oklahoma. I am blessed to live in such a young state. I get to be part of creating who we are and how the world sees us. Our past is still so intertwined with our present that we have to deal with it every single day. We have stories that need to be told. We can't ignore the violence and depravity that brought so many of our people here, but we aren't a dumping ground. We are creative and industrious and intelligent and worthy of being defined on our own terms instead of looking at the rest of the county to figure out who we really are.

6. Flying. I love to fly. I love airplanes and airports and airport people. I am thankful that I got to go to ground school this year. Next year, I'm flying.

7. Friends. I have the most amazing friends ever. I can't even begin to explain how rich my friends make my life. They are my sounding board, and they make me laugh every single day. I am so very lucky.

Really, this list doesn't scratch the surface. I live a charmed life, and when I get frustrated or overwhelmed or just down, I need to remember how very lucky I am.

ungrateful wench

2008-11-25T09:38:00.005-06:00

As a disclaimer: I already know that this post makes me sound like an unappreciative hag. I. Know.

I'll be packing tonight for a whirlwind trip to Kansas to hang out with my in-laws whom I adore. Really. And, for the record, I am completely done with my husband hinting, insinuating, flat out remarking that I don't want to be there. I do. Now, stop it!

But I am already all holidayed out.

What I'm not completely thrilled about is Christmas gifts just for the sake of buying a damn gift. I am done with the over commercialization of the holidays. I don't want another candle/frame/bath product. I don't want it something else to stick in the back of the closet or a shelf or worse. But I am thankful that I have a family that wants to give me presents. It just feels like they still don't really know me at all.

Here is some of what I would love to have for Christmas:

1. Cookbooks. About anything. Pies. Vintage Junior League. Local dishes. Sushi. Anything. I love to cook, and I love to read. Perfect.
2. Prohibition cocktail books. Do you sense a theme?
3. Bond. James Bond. I really want the entire James Bond DVD set.
4. Inappropriate shoes from JCrew.
5. Chunky cocktail rings. Some days I need that extra boost of bling.
5. Weekend in Marfa, Texas.
6. Sushi lessons so I can make my own.
7. Swimming lessons. I want to get back to competitive form.
8. Fancy bottle opener.
9. Flower pots and potting soil and seeds and flowers and shrubs.
10. Donation to a worthy cause.

chaos theroy

2008-11-24T11:16:00.004-06:00

What is it about the holidays that kicks chaos into overdrive? Shouldn't this be the time for relaxation and being with the fam?

No?

Oy!

Between right this very second and packing us into the car for the drive north on Wednesday evening, I have sixteen jillion things that have to be done. And they are all very important. And none of them can slide.

And......

Since we decided not to come back until Sunday, I only have one day at the house before I'm off on the DC/NYC adventure.

Then, a breather before Christmas and the family trip to San Antonio that I really need to get in a better place about. I love love love San Antonio, but I'm not looking forward to a week in a hotel room with a three-year-old.

Sleep is for wusses.