quietly is my favorite word

#febphotoaday 1-4

2012-02-05T18:53:00.000-08:00

Days one through four....

one) my view: teatime at my friend lisa's house, sipping on earl grey, nomming on birthday cupcakes, walking around the pool and watching arlo systematically destroy her house. it was the loveliest of afternoons.

two) words: my shopping list; partial.

three) hands: mine; working.

four) a stranger: surreptitiously caught at the venice beach playground. chicken.

it was an interesting week. we're not sleeping so well over here (well, i am, when i can, thank you melatonin). arlo on the other hand... my thought process is that his mind is so busy trying to figure out how to master the 5 new words he's coming up with every day, that there's just no room in his brain to fit in any rest. at least i hope that's what it is.

anyway, the aforementioned lisa j. saved me from a hideous wednesday (with less than four hours of sleep on tuesday night), by hosting our motley crew. thursday was some shopping. friday working. saturday we headed down to the beach to play with friends, in hopes of dishing on downton abbey. more like chasing toddlers around, peeling oranges, and trying to find strangers within phone photo shooting range.

i love this project.

if amy and i lived in the same city

2012-02-03T19:50:00.001-08:00

we would watch downton abbey every sunday, and it would look like this:

#FEBPHOTOADAY

2012-01-31T20:26:00.000-08:00

so, i have been counting down the days, at least for the last week, until tomorrow. so looking forward to dedicating myself to a new tiny piece of art each day. i'm looking for little pearls of happiness amongst the baby tea sets, richard scarry books, diapers, computers, grants and websites that are crowding my days lately.

i miss you. i haven't had a chance to talk with you in forever. remember those days we used to sit down, over coffee, over wine, over bad tv? i miss those days. sadly, still no time. so...as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. let me share my month with you.

want to take part? head over here to get the deets. fatmumslim is fanfreakingtastic.

and stay tuned here, as i'll be posting the photos (I WILL, I SWEAR) at least weekly.

xoxo.

happy 21 months, and other things.

2012-01-30T18:30:00.000-08:00

wait, do i have that right? 21 (counting in head: may, june, july, august, september, october, november, december, january, holy cow, what happened to the last six months? i feel like i'm still looking for a dress to wear to nicole's wedding -- maybe that's because i'm now looking for a dress to wear to amy's wedding? -- but really, my god, time, you're fooling with me!) yes! TWENTY ONE MONTHS.

oh little arlo, in just a few short weeks, i will be able to toss aside this cumbersome month counting. by summer, i will be able to, all footloose and fancy free, dash off, "he's two." or, "he's two and a half" or, eventually (dun dun dun), "he'll be three soon!" but...i suppose i'm getting ahead of myself. for now, you are twenty one months old. much more than halfway to two, but not so close that i feel comfortable saying that you're almost two. and thus, with the month counting. sometimes, i toss caution to the wind and say, "he'll be two in april. at the end. of april. then, he'll be two." but really, i think saying, "he's 21 months," makes me sound less stupid. and of all the goals i've ever made, this year, last, any year: trying to sound less stupid is a really good one, and one that i should work a little harder to adhere to.

so, you. 21 months. have i told you lately, how much you look like a big boy?
because, god...

also, words! so many words! what i can think of right now:
"hum" (home).
"dir dawg" (dirty dog. don't ask, we have no idea.)
"cri cheez" (cream cheese).
"melmo" (elmo).
"shuz" and "sock"
"ahside" (outside).
"apple" or "ah-RAH!" (arlo).
"AAAHHHnnn" (on).
"ufff" (off).
"duhsees" (daisy, the chihuahua).
"buut" (book).
"BUTT" (butt).
"AHmal" (oatmeal)

you still say "more" with your hands. and instead of saying please, you do a little japanese bow. you also have taken to answer yes or no questions with "mmhm," except you rarely say the first syllable, preferring to just say "hmmmm?" which ends up sounding more like you're hard of hearing, rather than that you are in agreement. you also, and lord knows where you picked this up, seem to talk in a bit of a french accent. i am "maMA." andy is "daDA." Three singing pigs say "la LA LA"

we had a few steps back in the sleeping department last week, but that seems to have remedied itself (very afraid, now that i just typed that out loud). i think your last molars are coming in. holy cow, will i go marching through the streets when this whole teething thing is over (at least until they start to fall out....).

you are getting to be super super independent. and you like to be naked a lot. you also like to get into bed -- anyone's bed; yours, ours, ava's, nolan's...if there's a bed, with covers and a pillow, you're thrilled. you also like shoes.

after a very hectic end to 2011, 2012 has been a lot of fun. we're going to a new toddler play group with all of our sanctuary mama and baby friends, we went to the art show and looked at all kinds of brightly colored things and/or naked people, we've had a ton of playdates and found some new parks, and we almost made it through half of your great-great aunt phyllis' surprise 80th birthday. i'm having a ball keeping up with you.

you, mon frere, are the coolest.

xo.

cheers.

2012-01-10T18:51:00.000-08:00


dining room floor tea party.

oh, poor neglected blog, i wish you happy new year.

i have all kinds of resolutions, and you are one of them. among the others: carve out a little more time (a littttllllleee moorrrre tiiiimmmme) for me. i have been working a little bit more, here and there, a large-ish handful of hours each week, and its doing me good. the getting out of the house, the drinking of too much coffee, the clicky click click of the keyboard under my fingers.

so there's that. i also want to read more. which i'm doing, and knit more which i'm also doing. i also told myself that i would go for a walk while andy took arlo for their morning sojourn. i have not been so good on that front. that hour in the morning is the only time in my sometimes 18 hour day where i get to loll. i like lolling. turns out, i like lolling more than i like walking. and that's ok.

writing, reading, knitting. but not so much with the walking. still. we're only ten days into the year, i'm giving myself credit where credit is due.

p.s. see that tea party? happens every morning. i love it.

Get a Melissa & Doug 25% Off Coupon When You Take the North "Poll"!!

2011-11-11T18:46:00.001-08:00

hey, look, a deal!
Melissa and Doug want you to tell them which of their educational toys you think is the best! Just click on the image below to place your vote in the North "Poll!" You'll Get a Melissa & Doug 25% Off Coupon** to use at MelissaAndDoug.com just for voting!

we love Melissa and Doug at our house. i actually don't know a house with kids (or educators) that doesn't. they are amazing at crafting toys that are engaging, durable, beautiful, affordable, and most important, safe. and we know of what we speak: here is a partial list of M&D toys that have been (or will soon be, come christmas) road tested at Casa de Arlo:

chomp and clack alligator push toy; which, truth be told, we got as a hand-me-down. it got a HUGE amount of use from arlo and is now on to its third home!
soft rainbow stacker; we actually have two of these.
shape sorting cube; which we got this along with these:
alphabet nesting and stacking blocks last christmas, and both are still in beautiful condition. after daily use. really.
wooden 123/ABC blocks. i love that these look like the ones i had, and probably like the ones my mom had.
cinco starfish collapsible bucket.
happy giddy tunnel. which played a HUGE roll in arlo's first birthday party, as well as being a pretty amazing crawl-inducer, back in those days...
and, the food groups; of which the chicken leg and the anchovy (?) seem to be his favorite. don't ask me, he's a nutty kid that way.

but here, don't just look at the toys we have, go check out their website.

click on the image up there to start. happy voting, happy shopping, happy holidays (already?!)!

love, arlo and his bffs, Melissa and Doug.

a moment captured.

2011-11-03T17:16:00.000-07:00

November 3, 3:45 p.m. about 68 degrees.
i was on the sidewalk pictured above, walking home. the small breeze left over from yesterday's santa ana is cool. power 106 is blasting from the convertible waiting for the light. over a hip-hop beat, the dj says to "call right now to get tickets to the sold-out cali christmas party!"

it bears repeating.

2011-10-16T14:23:00.000-07:00

in october, 2008, i wrote this letter to barack obama (incidentally, its the only post on this blog, in almost 6 years of posts, that has generated hate mail).

anyway, it bears repeating. here's the link, text follows:
Dear Barack,

It's funny, just this morning as I was listening to NPR, I voiced a question to my boyfriend, who suggested that I write you. Serindipitous. But before my question, let me say:

I did watch the debates last night, and again was saddened by John McCain's failing to speak to me and people like me.

I am 33. I live in Los Angeles, where I was born and raised by a single mother, who came to this country when she was 5 years old. My entire education has been in the public school system, a system my mother believed in, not only for its price tag, but also that it promoted diversity in a city that can be very isolated along race and economic lines.

I put myself through college at Portland State University, having to wait until I was 24 to qualify for financial aid without reporting my parents' income. I worked while I went to school, so it took me a little longer than some, and I graduated in August of 2005. I was 30.

Since moving back to Los Angeles, I've worked in the development offices of 2 non-profits, both working with foster youth, families at risk, and youth empowerment. This coming November, my benefits package will take effect, and I will have health insurance for the first time since I was dropped off my mother's coverage when I was 23.

That was TEN years ago. You bet you have my vote. I wish I could contribute money. I can't. What I have been doing, what I did on the bus ride into work this morning, was talk to my fellow citizens, ask questions, build community and, because today was special, gave away some Obama For President buttons that I purchased in August from moveon.org.

One of the major reasons I cannot contribute any more money than I already have is my student loan debt. It's over $350 a month. I make less than $35,000 a year, before taxes. I work for a non-profit. Every MINUTE of my work day is spent trying to solve problems the government can't, or won't, address. I take the bus to work. I use CFLs at home. I turn off lights when I leave the room and, Jimmy-Carter-style, put on a sweater before I turn on the heater.

Like I said, you have my vote, and I am working the streets to gather up some more for you. I know, and a lot of people around here seem to know, that you HEAR us. And feel like its been a long time since anyone has. So thank you.

Now my question: Last night, when Oliver stood up to ask his question about the "bail-out", John McCain corrected him and said "rescue plan". You went on to use the term "rescue plan" later, several times. Barack, I was an English major, and I have a problem here: "rescue plan" seems to imply that there was some sort of accident, an act of God, something unpredictable and of no one's fault, a banana peel under Wall Street's foot, and oops - broken. You and I, and millions of Americans know: not so. Please call it what it is: a bail out. And if some plan comes up to pull people out from under mortgages that they signed up for but knew they could not afford, please call it what it is: a bail out.

Otherwise, if we are going to launch rescue plans, please lets include everybody. I know a great big handful of people who work hard every day, in the community, in our schools and libraries, for our cities, for our citizens, who cannot afford their own apartment, let alone the fact that they will likely never own their own house, struggling as they are under loans that they took out (some from Fannie, mind you) to go to college. And though life would be much easier if I took me and my english degree and went to go work in advertising (at likely double my paycheck), that's not how I was raised.

I know you are doing, and have plans to do, everything you can for us. I can't wait to see you do it. But please, in the meantime, call things what they are, if for no other reason than for the people who are out here every day knowing full well no rescue plan is in OUR future.

I will continue to talk you up every single time I get the chance. I'm going to a meeting of the Westchester Democratic Committee tonight, at an IHOP on the corner of Manchester and Sepulveda. Sometime around 7:30 pm PST, listen for us, we're cheering you on.

Best,
Lisa Sorrentino

to n + d; the toast i should have made.

2011-08-23T20:51:00.000-07:00

I met Nicole eleven years ago, I think. It was the summer that she and Sue moved to Portland from New Orleans, but it really took until that Christmas, when everyone else flew home to their families and left us orphaned, for our friendship to gel. I probably met Dylan a few months after that; he worked with Sue, I think she was dating his roommate. Things stayed that way for most of the time I was in Portland: Nicole and I were neighbors, roommates, p'adners, often connected at the hip... but Dylan and I seemed to exist only in each other's periphery. I always knew him through someone else: either Sue or Jim, Jake and Mike and all the rest of the Reno boys, or Christian and the Vanguard crew. I was always glad to see him, when I saw him, but there were times when I didn't see him much.

I moved away from Portland a little over six years ago. Nicole threw me a send-off party. Dylan was there. I cried most of the night.

Two and a half years ago (last week), I came up to visit. Nicole and her then-roommate Megan hosted a dinner in my honor. They invited my some of my old work friends and some of my old school friends, in addition to the Portland loyal. Dylan was there, too. I think he came with Christian.

But while Christian peeled off early, Dylan stayed. He was there when the party moved to the Beulahland. And he stayed when that crowd began to thin. I think he was even there when we gathered our things to brave the February cold back to the girls' house. It didn't surprise me that he came. But it did surprise me that he stayed.

The next day I brought it up with Nicole. "I think he's into you," I said, an unbecoming teenage gossip. She blew me off, chalking it up to Christian and Dylan recently becoming roommates. But that didn't make any sense, especially since Christian left so early. Plus, it didn't seem to explain the new way that Dylan was looking at her. I had noticed it more than once. When he looked at her, he seemed to see her, to listen to her, and to patiently take her in, all at once. It was a marvel to watch.

She ignored me.

A few weeks later, we were talking on the phone when his name came up again. Their paths had been crossing more often.
"So," I said. "Dylan."
"What?" she asked.
"Well?"
"What?" she asked. Finally, "It's nothing." And that was the end of that.

I should interject here. Those of you who know Nicole well will recognize the shut down. Nicole's shut down is an admirable force. There is no way possible you will EVER get her to talk about something she doesn't want to talk about, especially if there IS something to talk about. She can, and will, look you dead in the eye, and with a blank face, simply say, "What?" and then turn her back to you. And that is always the end of that.

Maybe a month later, it was already spring I remember, she called me. We chatted about this and that, probably 45 minutes of filling time (this is also something that Nicole is very good at). Finally, right as I told her I had to go, she said, "So..."
"What?," I asked.
"Dylan Tanner," she said.
"Whoa," I said, and thought about the way he looked at her that night. "Nicole. That's gonna be for real."
"I know," she said. "It is."
"Really? I could not be more happy for you," I said.

That fall, in an email, she wrote, "I am so in love, its not even funny."
"I could not be more happy for you," I wrote back. "Beautiful."

Later, I cheered with her when they found a house. She was down to visit me for my baby shower while Dylan moved them in and painted. I sat holding her hand and told her, "No-no, really, I could not be happier for you." I think we cried a little.

I said it again when she told me they were engaged. I found myself saying it again and again and again, besting myself, proving myself a liar every few months, because damn it, I could be happier for her, for them, and each time I was. I don't know how, though. I guess they got good at making my heart grow.

And so.

Last Saturday, I stood under a tree with Jake and Sue and Nate at Nicole and Dylan's wedding reception. We watched Jim give a toast. We watched Holden and Nathan, and Christian, too. I knew I could not. Because, really, I'm a chicken that way. And all I could think of was my 26th birthday party, that Dylan came to with Sue, and how I kept chucking candy hearts into his beer all night, and how angry that made him because he was a vegan and candy hearts have some sort of animal byproduct in them. Every single time, he got up to get a new beer, no matter how full the one in front of him, with the floating candy heart in it, was. But that's not a wedding toast. That's a story about what an ass I can be.

It took me a long time to go to sleep that night, because all I could think about was Nicole and Dylan, and how he looked at her that night, and all of those times that I couldn't be happier for them, and all of those times that I just kept finding room for more happiness.

And I cried, and I cried and I cried.

Dear Nicole and Dylan, I really don't think I could be any happier than I am right now for you. But I am fully prepared to be wrong on that point. And I hope that the next many, many, many years give me one hundred chances to best myself. One hundred opportunities for my heart to grow bigger as your lives together grow more fantastic. And it can, and they will, and I love you. Here's to happy.

xo.

away, away

2011-06-07T13:34:00.000-07:00

i have not posted in a long long time. which, yes, went very much against my promise, a few months ago, to post ALL THE TIME. something happened. many things happened, none of them bad, don't worry, just all of them at once, and many of them unprepared for and BOOM. no time for blog.

the little started to crawl and then cruise and then walk and now, you guessed it, compromise the baby gates. we had done some baby proofing, at least we thought we had. what we had actually done is baby guessing. figuring, you know, if I can't get the cabinet locks open/baby gate undone/ sippy cups correctly taken apart, etc., there's no way he can.

wrong.

and so.

i spend the majority of the day chasing after him (he walks now. even kind of runs, which is really just a very fast walk, with his torso still moving slightly ahead of his feet, which inevitably ends up in a topple), watching the floor, watching the counters, watching everything, trying to anticipate what will end up underfoot, in hand or in mouth (and occasionally all three).

by the way, he has a new trick. if i ask him, "arlo, what's in your mouth?" he will open his mouth wide at me and roll his tongue around, as if to say, "look nothing!". that is, if there really is nothing in his mouth. if there is something in his mouth, he will give me a close mouthed smile and run.

sleep has also been a major issue since our vacation in march. and once that seemed to even out down to one or two wake-ups a night (down from FIVE OR SIX. cue angry mama), i got sick, and then he got sick. now we all seem to be better, but he has started to stay up later, sometimes til close to ten, which, let me tell you, sucks. it sucks. did i tell you? IT SUCKS. especially since now molars are coming in and we're back to waking too many times during the night. seriously, i'm so tired i lose my balance sometimes.

and with that, nap time is over and he's stirring. i am really going to try to carve out more time. i promise promise.

why its good i didn't have a girl child:

2011-04-02T19:10:00.001-07:00

because this would be she. god bless her, she broke my heart.

its already february 8th?!

2011-02-08T21:09:00.000-08:00

ohmygod, in five days i'll be 36 years old.
thirrrtyyy siiixxxx.

help.

9 months

2011-01-31T20:14:00.000-08:00

dear arlo,
today you are 9 months and 4 days old, 21 pounds, and 29 inches tall. your head is 45 centimeters. your hair is getting long, your eyes are staying blue/gray, and you steal the hearts of all manner of passerby.

though you were never short on personality, you are becoming a little more you these days, or at least we are all figuring out who that you is.

you smile at everyone.
unless you're eating, and we're not feeding you fast enough. then you get angry. angry arlo is funny. you actually growl.
you now want to stand up all the time, and have a very funny proud face when you've managed to pull yourself up without your feet slipping away behind you.
you still hate socks, and when you manage to pull them off, you hold your feet up in the air and wiggle your toes.
you will crawl across the room to play piano, play with your drum, or take all of your books off the bookshelf. thank you for playing fair with your parents, and going out of your way to show that you take after both of us.

what i will tell you, though i feel like i shouldn't: every night, after your dad gives you your bath, i take you into the rocking chair and nurse you to sleep. we listen to iron and wine and you put your hand on my chest and i can feel you completely relax. once you're good and asleep, i lift you to my shoulder and rock you for a few minutes more. i savor this time with you. i can almost feel you growing too big for it, as we sit there and rock. sometimes, when i press my cheek against the back of your head, your hair still damp from your bath, and i whisper "shhh," i can feel my heart slow down, and my head spin a little bit, and its all i can do to not cry. i get woozy with love for you.

xoxo
mama

guh.

2011-01-30T20:17:00.000-08:00

oh, january. you have not been my friend.

my son is crawling, and by crawling, i mean finding every electrical cord, tumbleweed of dog hair, shoe, art book, recycling box, etc that he can get his hands on, only to try to put them in his mouth. i, as you can imagine, am not a huge fan of this behavior, especially when it happens at 5:30 in the morning in my what-i-thought-was-baby-proofed living room.

my uncle bob died. my dad's uncle, really, and i hadn't seen him or my aunt phyllis in far, far too long, and that's, i guess, why it feels so horrible. arlo, my mom and i went to his funeral last wednesday, and sat with family on a very very windy day. my cousins (my uncle's 3 granddaughters) were there...all grown up and pretty and in their twenties. the last time i saw them, i think they were wee little girls, chasing one another at my grandfather's funeral. it made me sad that my family has become so fractured, but truth be told, much of the blame belongs to me for moving away for so long.

worst yet, my grandma has breast cancer. a couple of weeks ago we found out that what we thought was a calcification in her breast was actually a cancer, and last wednesday she had a mastectomy. they removed two growths (one stage 1 and one stage 2) and the lymph nodes under her arm. four days later, she seems to be doing well, obviously a little uncomfortable, but she's yelling back at the tv news and throwing slightly insulting comments around, so that means she at least feels like herself. we find out sometime this week if the cancer has moved to her lymphatic system. i am doing a not so very good job of trying not to think about that.

i wish this dilemma also somehow featured family that i don't see enough of, but instead its complicated by family that i see far too much of. i keep trying to think of words, trying to think of a way to write about this, trying to explain 20 years of resentment, of anger, of, really, disgust at the people who leech off of my grandmother, but i'm having a really hard time. i spent my mid-teens to my late twenties worried that i would grow up to be like my cousin, that people would think of me the way they think of her, that i would somehow manage to fail just as incredibly...it was a strained conversation with my dad several years ago that finally cured me of it, when he told me that there was just no way that would ever happen. that my cousin is the way she is because she has always been that way. that it was obvious when she was a child. and that i am who i am, and the two could not be more different. i could go magnificently crazy, and still not be her. i could fail incredibly, and still not be her. no matter what happens, i will still not be her.

but still. its like facing a mortal fear every time i go to visit my grandma, which is so stupid and selfish and likely far too personal to post on a blog, for god's sake, but there it is.

come on february, hurry up.

no longer sweethearts

2011-01-23T13:04:00.000-08:00

dear arlo,
remember what i said last time, about us being sweethearts and you hugging me back and burying your face in my neck? those days are WAY over. now, you hug, lean back, and fasten your mouth around my arm. YOU BITE.

8 months, 2 weeks late.

2011-01-07T21:34:00.000-08:00

dear me, arlo j.,

at eight months (and ten days), you are, very much so, my sweetheart. when i pick you up, you squeeze me and bury your face in my neck unless, of course, you bite me on my shoulder. you do the same with your dad, and squeal and squirm when he walks in the room. you also laugh and clap when you see your grandma evelyn (vovi). you have to know, kiddo, how that sends her over the moon.

napping on vovi's bed.

you have the sweetest soul, and it just melts my heart. you were, i think, sent here to bring joy. and you are so so good at it.

what you are also: so strong. in the course of one day before christmas, you learned how to crawl, and sit up from both your belly and your back. we think its because you spent one day at your girlfriend lyra's house, and you took particular notice as she crawled past you after some blocks (even reaching out and grabbing her tights as she did, leaving lyra pants-less and you quite pleased with yourself). two nights later - when you should have been sleeping - across the floor you went (straight for your dad's shoes), wounded army soldier style.

and now you're all over. all over. not content with your toys, even all the new ones you got for christmas (more on that later), you drag yourself to the aforementioned shoes, or cds, or the dog's water bowl. you spent 15 minutes the other day desperately attempting to pull yourself to standing on the ottoman, just so you could have a good luck inside my almost empty cup of coffee.

lastly, your first christmas. please be forewarned: your great aunt debbie told me recently that your grandpa larry has your next few christmas and birthday gifts all planned out. and if they're anything like this christmas's gift, buckle your seatbelts, kiddo. literally.

yup. your own little airplane. with your name on it. it will be another two years (three?) before your feet touch the pedals, but your sure knew how to grab the steering wheel.

oh wow, its been too long.

2011-01-07T21:12:00.000-08:00

dear blog,
you are my new year's resolution. i have ignored you terribly, in favor or work, in favor of sleep, in favor of tossing around that little scrubby boy of mine. and i miss you when i'm gone, i do. i miss writing for pleasure. i miss thinking about words. i miss you, period.

so a promise: i will try harder this year. we've been through far too much together. 2011 will be the year of me and you, mr. quietly. and to keep me committed, i've given birth to a new endeavor:

arlolittlejaybird

while i know arlo jay will still be featured here, and prominently, i've created a little cheater blog, a little place to drop a quick note, a quick milestone, a little snap photo about the boy. quietly continue to be my place of choice for thought, for rumination, for silliness. arlojaybird will be all arlo all the time. a deposit of information for family, also.

so things to keep an eye on in 2011: BIG changes, folks. for sure. more on that to come later.

christmas time in hollis, queens.

2010-12-08T11:28:00.000-08:00

or inglewood, california, as the case may be. but, really, "inglewood, california" has way too many syllables.

i am in denial of how excited i am, but suffice it to say, i put up our christmas tree on the day after thanksgiving. and arlo's stocking is already stuffed, with 17 days left to go. i have been instructed by various grandparents, great-grandparents and other family to please not buy presents for the boy, and i have almost followed directions...

but i just couldn't resist...

7 months, last saturday

2010-12-03T20:23:00.000-08:00

wow, i really suck at this.

arlo j. let me tell you a little bit about you:

you are a nut.
you are a flirt.
you are great at not being very sleepy when we want you to be very sleepy.
you LOVE the bath. you scream when i take you out, even when the water has long gone luke warm.
you will eat anything mixed into plain yogurt.
you were roughly, at six months, the size i was when i was nine months old.
you smile all the time. that steals my heart.
you also grab my face with both hands and cram your open mouth against my cheek. its like your version of a raspberry. it sends me.

this has been a rough month for me, and it has nothing to do with you. i have done my best to try and take a deep breath and clear my head before i pick you up, before i play with you, before i heed your call. i haven't always been great at that, and i'm sorry. your dad and i are trying our best to work our way around some of the difficulties that our parents had parenting us. i'm doing everything i can to be the best mama for you. i love you to the ends of the earth, even if i'm regularly 5 days late on your birthday posts.

xoxo.

ps. don't worry; change is afoot. good change, i promise.

um, seriously?

2010-11-16T21:46:00.000-08:00

i recently read, in one of those dreaded baby books, that six-month-olds are supposed to be sleeping 16 hours a day. this has set me down a whole new spiral of panic. this particular spiral being that much more terrifying due to the fact that i am massively sleep deprived and my sense of reason has gone on vacation to more restful locales.

seriously? sixteen hours? hey arlo, you know how many naps you took yesterday? NONE. you know how many naps you took today? one. FOR TWENTY MINUTES. you know what time you woke up this morning? AT 4:17. and then you were awake, WIDE AWAKE, until 6:45 when you ever so graciously went back to sleep for A WHOLE HALF HOUR.

a quick sleep deprived count on my fingers says you slept 10 hours in the last 24, and that was broken up into 5 sessions.

you are obviously not my son.

teethy teethy

2010-11-09T22:53:00.000-08:00

dear arlo,
well its finally happening. you've got some teefers coming in, and when i say, "some" i mean some. as in, more than one. when you open your mouth and let me move your tongue out of the way (which you rarely do), it seems like four might be popping up. yes, at once. apparently, once you've committed to an idea, you go whole hog.

and holy cow are you miserable. we're on a 20 minute cycle around here, wherin we can distract you for, oh, 15 to 18 minutes, and then, abruptly, it all goes to hell and nothing can soothe you. frozen teethers? thrown to the floor. cold yogurt and peaches? spit out, crying. you are also running a steady low grade fever, which is making you both sweat and pee a lot. you peed on your vovi TWICE today, the second round necessitating a bath (and a good chuckle from me). she's so nice that, even though you peed on her (twice) she ran out to the store to buy you some teething gel. which didn't work out so well, but there it is, she tried.

and so, we are keeping you on a steady diet of half doses of baby ibuprofen. i'm afraid to give you the teething pellets that work so well, as they've been recalled (i could climb on my soapbox and tell the FDA to stay away from my homeopathic remedies, but good lord, i'm too tired). so its just us trying to soothe you: holding you, rocking you, letting you tear at my fingers with those sharp little things exploding from your gums...

i hope it all finishes soon. it makes me feel so helpless, seeing you like this. and i know teeth pain (one day, i'll sit down and tell you about my 9 years of orthodontia, but only provided that you don't require any), and i wish i knew magic, so you could feel better.

xo,
mama

p.s. i think you might be saying my name. you might also just be making "ma ma ma" sounds, but you do seem to look at me when you say it sometimes...high five kiddo.

so tired (another beatles reference)

2010-11-05T22:42:00.000-07:00

ohmygod, i can't even put it into words.

nothing special, or not special, going on, just tired. just worn out. and in desperate desperate need of a pedicure. so desperate, i've been in need of a pedicure since JUNE. wrap your head around THAT.

anyway, yes, a pedicure, a massage, a really good dinner made by someone else, some rainy weather, bad tv and maybe a 3 days in hotel room with some french doors out to a bougainvillea covered patio. i think that would make me all better.

oh arlo (sung to the tune of "oh yoko", by j.l.)

2010-10-31T10:46:00.001-07:00

first: i did not forget your six month birthday. i did not. its just...SO...BIG...and i found that i needed a few days to wrap my head around it. six months? really? do you know that all you have to do is six m
onths 35 more times, and then, presto chango, you'll be EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD?! and do you know that, even though that thought is totally totally crazy-town, i have completely succumbed to it and now, every time i sit with you, i can feel the minutes slipping away, speeding towards 2028?

what the five month to six month spread has been like:

you are a new boy every day. seriously, the learning curve has shot to the moon. you clap, you sit, you can cross a room in seconds and wedge yourself underneath the ottoman by rolling rolling rolling.

you EAT! real FOOD! we started with butternut squash, which you hated. moved on to sweet potato, which you hated. moved on to carrots, which you hated, and we came to the conclusion that orange foods were from the devil. until we started experimenting with spices: ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg and/or pumpkin pie spice, make orange veggies delectable.

on the green veggie side, there was nothing we could do to convince you of the avocado, but peas? holy christmas, you love them. you also love yogurt. today, we're gonna try some pears.

on the downside, your days of sleeping like a, well, baby (who thought THAT up?) seem to have gone with your preference for pacifiers and being swaddled. over the last week, you've taken to waking up at 3 am, and staying that way til the sun comes up. not my favorite, i assure you, but we're dealing. we're all cranky and overtired, but we're dealing.

lastly, today is halloween. you were supposed to wear a skeleton costume, but i had some trouble getting you into it on friday (it was a bit like trying to stuff a sausage, truth be told). so, alas, no costume today. should you get all upset about it one day in the far off future that there are no photos of your first halloween, i'm sorry, but its not my fault you outgrew your halloween costume before halloween came around. you did wear it last weekend, to a picnic (where the danger of your outgrowing it became apparent), maybe i'll just lie to you.

ok, maybe i won't.

letter to me

2010-10-08T18:04:00.000-07:00

to you, me, on a friday in mid-july, 2009:
right this minute you are in the car with andy on the way to santa cruz for a wedding. for the last hour or two, you have been thinking about your life, about your work (what a year it has been at work, which is probably what brought about this introspection). you are thinking that you are getting old(er) fast(er). that maybe having children isn't in the cards for you. life is going so fast. but. you are in love. and you have a wonderful family and friends and great dogs. maybe babies as well is asking too much of the universe.

to you in that car on that day, i say, "sshhh"

to you, me, mid-august 2009:
no. no one else can smell that fried chicken from six blocks away. somethings up, girl.

things you should know:
please keep a good record of being pregnant. because once you're not anymore, you'll hardly remember it.

also: you will spend so much time trying to imagine what all of this will be like. stop. you simply can't. that little jelly bean with the ski jump nose and tight little fists that you see in the sonograms...there's no way you can begin to imagine how funny he is. how soft the skin on the small of his back is. how, when he opens his eyes as he's waking up from a nap and looks at you and smiles you will know, to your core, that this is exactly what was in the cards for you.

trust your gut on your doula. trust me, you will tell yourself over and over and over again in the next year how much aimee is a godsend. stars aligned when you found her.

also: listen to her when she talks to you about your birth plan and how you shouldn't get too attached to it. yes, its important. but no, don't bet the farm on it. seriously, its the most unpredictable thing ever, and no, its not going to go according to plan, i'll tell you that right now. on april 26, you are going to sit on the floor of a hallway at kaiser and cry. and you will stay up all night that night, exactly where you didn't want to be, all pitocin-ed and epiduraled, and you will cry again. and worry. know: breathe. you have an amazing group of people around you: andy, aimee, your mom, crazy nurses, two doctors and a midwife. and they all want the same thing you do: a happy healthy arlo and a happy healthy you. you can do this. the pushing part will come soon enough and you will be so good at it, and it will make you feel like you can do anything. you can.

and yes, he is really real. and he is really here.

and he will change your life. and you'll wonder if you'll ever get a good night's sleep again. and you will wonder what in the hell you're doing. and you will wonder, at some of your lowest moments, if this wasn't some kind of terrible mistake.

but honey, no. you have no idea how good at this you are. and how you, andy, arlo, you will all be fine. you are amazing at this, and so is andy. watching him with arlo, particularly in the ergo carrier, like a big green daddy kangaroo, you will laugh out loud and cry at the same time, overfull with love.

so, some quick advice:

shanna gave you a great pointer when she told you not to create a situation that only you can fix. you will fail miserably at following this advice, but it will make you realize that you have spent your life creating situations that only you can fix, and that realization is well worth the unfollowed advice.

your dad has a bad habit of popping over unannounced at 7am on sunday mornings. make sure you have a bra on.

any help offered, take. and then ask for more. and eat as much as you can. you're too skinny (which is a comment that no one has ever made about you before, and glorious to hear, but hey, you're feeding two now, so have more milkshakes. they're good.).

lastly, you have never known love like this. the love you give, the love you get...arlo's entrance into this world has created a vortex of love that will color your every day for the rest of your life. you will love everyone and most everything more because of him. and yes, even when you're stuck in traffic.

i love you, i mean it.

xo, you.

oh my god!

2010-10-02T22:44:00.000-07:00

dear arlo,
you are rolling over! all the time now (but mostly only to your left). back to tummy, tummy to back, you don't care, if you need to flip over to reach it, you will. you still look pretty surprised once the world stops spinning, though.

also: you are sitting up! no assistance needed, for a good, oh, 20 seconds before flopping.

also (and i am SO afraid of typing this out loud...): you are napping. YES. you are. twice a day, for an hour, and get this: IN YOUR CRIB.

its like i don't even know you anymore...

xo,
mama

five months old.

2010-09-28T21:34:00.000-07:00

dear arlo,
all day today i thought it was your five month birthday, but it turns out it was yesterday. a perfect example of the "mommy brain" i've been suffering from (other examples include: leaving car doors wide open for hours on end, leaving purchases at the grocery counter, and never seeming to know what day it is). so, it was yesterday, which means my little song and dance for you this morning was a day late. which is fine, cause there was no way i was gonna do any singing or dancing for you yesterday, given that it was the hottest day ever recorded in los angeles. did you hear that? EVER.

i'm sure it will be your first memory, that scorching monday in this little old 70 year house with poor insulation and no air conditioning, and how we migrated from room to room to outside back to inside, a sum total of 3 baths, 2 shared popsicles and 1 totally miserable family, dogs included.

here's what you are like at five months and one day:
you can almost, just almost, sit up by yourself.
you have, twice, rolled over.
you are the greatest company: you laugh, you sing, you can cock an eyebrow like a pro.
you love to swing, and also listen to the beatles.
you have lots of baby friends, and i love them all, but i gotta say, you're the best.
also, you are huge. and getting huger.

also (and again, you can accuse me of being subjective, but i'm not, its totally true), you are beautiful. amazingly, achingly beautiful. your blue eyes are turning to gray, and gaining gold flecks. your hair came back, and shines gold in the sun. and you just radiate joy. i have seen it in action, you can turn someone's bad mood right upside down (you're like mary tyler moore that way).

i love you to pieces. i promise not to forget your six month birthday.
love, mama

too soon for nostalgia...

2010-09-20T08:44:00.000-07:00

wow, when it hits it hits hard, and rather unexpectedly.

mostly due to our lack of space here at casa lisaandyandarlo, i have been meticulous about putting away arlo's things as he outgrows them. a simple system has evolved, wherein once outgrown, if its ugly or i didn't like it, it goes to goodwill. however, if it was something we liked, or something very special, or something that could be worn by a girl, perhaps, maybe one day (??), it goes into a giant rubbermaid container that has been living in the dining room since early summer.

i've been a bit lazy in the last few weeks, and instead of actually putting the outgrown items in the container (wherein there is another system of gallon ziploc bags, labeled by content and size), i've just been throwing them on top. the pile was getting higher and higher.

so this morning, while andy took arlo on their daily morning adventure (starbucks and a walk), i tackled the rubbermaid container. and, upon opening it, burst into tears.

the little navy and white striped onesie that made him look so french that every time our eyes met, i couldn't help saying "hoah hoah hoah [you know, that french noise] mon frere!": in the box.

the little blue onesie with the lion and "roar" printed on it (that made everyone who looked at him laugh and say "roar" back): in the box.

countless pajamas that i spent the wee hours of the morning staring at while i tried to shush him back to sleep: in the box.

all those polka dotted pants, and ohmygod, the little tshirts from kaiser: in the box.

i don't know why i'm keeping all of it. i'm sure arlo won't spend hours pouring over his baby clothes when he's, like, fourteen and wears all black and plays whatever the 2024 version of dungeons and dragons is (what a scary thought). and i don't know if we'll ever have another baby. when amy came here two weeks ago, she took one look around the kitchen and said, "you guys need another 100 square feet," and she was only in the KITCHEN when she said so, and she was STILL being extremely conservative. so, there's a room issue. i'm also pretty old, so there's a that issue. plus now with both andy and i being self-employed, there's a THAT issue.

but still. i wash and fold the tiny little pants, the tinier little socks, and god, those tshirts with the fold-up cuffs, and i put them into ziplocks, labeled "pajamas, 3 mos." "newborn 1", "newborn 2", "favorites (first year)", "special! (first year)", and stack them nicely in the rubbermaid, wiping tears.

arlo a go go.

2010-09-14T21:23:00.000-07:00

car seat, unknown location.

at the getty villa


yes, he's awake here, but was asleep 10 minutes later.

at the bobbi brown counter at macy's. seriously.

arlo never naps at home. seriously. NEVER. if i am having a remarkably lucky day, one of the following may happen: 1) i can get him to fall asleep, gently put him in his crib, where he will nestle down, to sleep for a whopping 20 minutes, OR, 2) i can get him to fall asleep nursing, rest his head on my shoulder, and unfold myself into a reclining position on the sofa, where he will sleep on me for maybe an hour. but by sleeping on me, he's basically literally enforcing the "sleep when the baby sleeps" rule, which is a rule that i hate because: my baby never sleeps during the day (see above), and when he does, he's sleeping on me (see above) and i usually have something i really need to be doing rather than posing as arlo's chaise lounge.

HOWEVER, put him in a car seat, stroller, baby carrier and off he goes. arlo has slept through entire farmer's market trips, target adventures, restaurant trips (by the way, thank you so much, arles!), museums, and a couple of road trips. we are beginning to joke that most times he falls asleep, he wakes up somewhere completely different. he has mastered this quiet little look around, where he kind of takes in what he can sense before he really commits to waking up, like...

"bright lights, babies crying, cart noises? i think we're at target again. go back to sleep."

"humming, vibrations, and things passing outside? the car. go back to sleep."

"bumpy walking, talking and smells like food? farmer's market. go back to sleep, but not for too long. there are swings here."

amy wuz here.

2010-09-03T18:58:00.000-07:00

of which there will be photographic proof, as soon as i connect my camera to my computer. granted, i could be doing that right now, as arlo has been conked out in his car seat since a VERY exciting afternoon trip to the park, but frankly, i'm too pooped to even begin to consider searching for a) my camera, b) the connection cord and, c) i can't think of a c.

things we did: take arlo j on his first museum trip (hello getty villa. should you ever retire as a museum, i promise, i will come live at you in a heartbeat. especially if i can have the restaurant and amphitheater, too.). he kind of cried through most of it. the rest of it, he charmed strangers. this is his new trick. charm strangers, and then cry with me. lovely.

we also took a mini trip to ventura and literally stumbled upon earl stanley gardner's offices. who is earl stanley gardner, you say? only my 2nd personal hero (falls in line behind v. woolf), and creator of perry mason, the best television show ever. i mean, really, we were walking, i noticed "historical marker #86" on a marble wall, and there you go, the offices of esg. fantastic.

we also went to sephora, and its as tragic as it is official: arlo hates sephora.

my life is getting a little more serious in the coming days, as i will commence working from home on monday. it is causing me anxiety attacks, which is silly, i know, but there it is. instead, i want to hang out with lisa johnson and push arlo in swings at the park, like i did most of this afternoon. and if its raining, watch perry mason. why won't someone pay me for that?

why i love my mommy and me class or, god bless santa monica.

2010-08-20T17:50:00.000-07:00

some of the other babies' names:
emerson
lyra
saskia
vivianna
berlin
naia
zillia
runner
zander

no one batted an eye at our little arlo.

time goes too fast, part two.

2010-08-17T20:44:00.000-07:00

it really does. we are approaching arlito's 4 month birthday (too fast too fast!). more than anything, more than laughing, than sleeping through the night (though we're still not there, and seemingly moving farther away than closer), more than anything, four months old seems like a milestone. a quarter of the year. plus, he was born in spring, and now summer is ending. plus, when he was just a week old, and sleep was a foreign land, it seemed like he would never be ONE month old, and now i've lost track of the weeks. i think he is 16 weeks today, but i could be wrong. does that make me a bad mother?

karl davis rocks the casbah:

2010-08-14T21:16:00.000-07:00

see?

2010-08-11T19:46:00.000-07:00

churchill. a lot, right?

churchill.

2010-07-15T21:46:00.000-07:00

dear arlo,
in case i ever forget to tell you, little boy, you are a hit with the old ladies. they eat you up, kiddo, and this is coming from someone who knows, as i once was renowned for making old men's heads spin (something about my face - or maybe my figure - must have evoked a bygone era). but you? good god. old ladies admiration for you spans races, nationalities, and locales. whether its the toothless chinese lady that you and your dad see on your morning strolls, or the african-american lady who came up to me at target when you were napping in your sling to tell me how smart babies were these days and how you were so different from babies when she had them, to your g.g. (great grandma) who brags to her friends that you've already - at 2 and a half months - composed your first song, to the lady in the macy's bathroom this afternoon who asked if she could just sit and look at you for a little while (and it was NOT one of the nicer macy's bathrooms).

you charm them. they tell me that you look like alfred hitchcock, or winston churchill. you must have that evocative face, as well...

time goes too fast.

2010-07-08T18:01:00.000-07:00

on saturday night andy played me a video he made of arlo the week we brought him home. he was so small and pink, and had all this dark hair and peeling hands and all he did was squirm and mew like a kitten. now he weighs almost 14 pounds and smiles and flirts with the "arlo in the mirror" and french kisses his duck rattle.

i can't write much right this minute, but will soon. i will talk about our first mommy and me class, the 4th of july block party on hillsdale street (woop woop!), the incredible shrinking lisa, immunizations, and therapy. in the meantime, here are some more photos from andy: me and him and him and him, from that first week home...

it does get better, though...

2010-06-06T13:24:00.000-07:00

harder than it looks.

2010-06-03T22:00:00.000-07:00

i think this photo is from the first few days we were home from the hospital, when i was still living on adrenaline and endorphins and nowhere near enough showers. that precarious balance lasted for a couple weeks (maybe three?); wherein i couldn't believe that this baby would ever be two weeks old, three weeks old, four weeks old...

and here we are, nearly at his six week birthday. i have somehow managed to keep this little thing alive for five weeks. he is learning how to sleep for over two hours at a stretch, he is learning how to wait more than two hours between feedings, and he was seemingly born knowing how to pee on me when i change him.

it has not, however, been easy.

those of you who know me know that i've struggled with depression and anxiety in the past. although i've got a good handle on it now -- i can usually recognize reality in the face of the horrid hyperbole i can turn an experience into -- i was so afraid of post-partum depression. so, i was so proud in those early days home with le bebe, not realizing what a good friend adrenaline was.

the wheels fell off the cart sometime around week three-ish. the melancholy set in, and the anxiety started seeping in the edges, and i began to feel completely overwhelmed. even with my past experience, i couldn't make sense of it, i couldn't talk my way through it, i couldn't accept it. i felt guilty and angry because i wasn't handling things perfectly. every time he cried, i panicked. i was afraid to take him outside, i was too tired to go outside myself, i lived hour to hour, and it was killing me.

i went to see good ole doctor hersh for my follow up appointment last week, and literally burst into tears when he walked through the door. i couldn't even articulate what was wrong, i had to sit there in a paper sheet and socks and cry for fifteen minutes, wiping away mascara with a crunchy paper towel. i got a little bit of a lecture on letting go, on how i should go out, on how andy and i should go out, and on how, though i was hoping not to, i need to go back on the zoloft i was taking before i got pregnant (there are only the minutest traces of zoloft found in breast milk). its not something that i'm doing without a lot of thought. the only thing i want to be right now is the best mother i can be to this little tiny blue eyed boy. and i will do everything i can to be as good as that job as i can be.

things are improving, slowly. we packed the little one into the sling to go to trader joe's today, and though my eyebrows were knit through the experience, we did it, and came away with a couple weeks of groceries, with only a little fuss. we also took the baby AND ALL THREE DOGS on a walk day before yesterday, which i think i found more fun than andy did, given that i had the stroller and he had the leashes, but really, i could have done that all day long.

i am trying my best not to speak in platitudes about how amazing motherhood is (fail), but it is such a surreal experience. earlier today, we were all sitting on the bed, andy, me, arlo, lincoln tragg and daisy, and andy looked up and said "look at what a small space our family can fit into," and it was everything i could do not to weep (in a good way).

its not all happening the way i thought, and i'm almost ok with that. in the meantime, its happening the way that its happening, and i'm thisclose close to surrendering to the adventure.

updates.

2010-05-23T16:48:00.000-07:00

our baby is losing his (baby) hair. but not all over, the way i heard its supposed to happen. instead, its disappearing from the front backwards, making him look an awful lot like tim conway. i'd post a picture, but you'd laugh too hard.

also, i wore my pre-pregnancy jeans this morning to breakfast. nothing makes me happier than fitting into jeans that were too small 9 months ago AND having someone else cook my breakfast.

guh. baby crying. more soon.

induction, lessons on.

2010-05-17T18:49:00.000-07:00

so. this has taken me long enough to get down. i will try to get this out without crying and without hyperbole.

it might be difficult, but birth story, here we go:

so. we had an appointment with good ole dr. hersh for 10 am, monday morning the 26th of april. it would be our second attempt at the stripping of the membranes, and he wanted to talk induction. andy and i very much didn't want to talk induction, and we spent much of sunday getting our stories straight, strategizing and making plans of how we would convince dr. hersh to wait until friday, april (god, i don't even know what that friday was? the 30th?) to induce. rushing things seemed...unsavory. plus, i had spent the weekend reading horror stories.

i could not sleep sunday night. on the way to the appointment, we got caught in a bout of horrific la traffic, enough to make me call the doctors office and tell them we'd be late. once we got to the doctors office, we ended up waiting almost 45 minutes to get in. for those who know me well, you can already tell that the morning was gearing up toward catastrophe in my head.

but we got there, and he was glad to see us, though very dubious regarding our friday plans. he stripped the membranes. it hurt only slightly less than the first time. he did an ultrasound, and immediately looked a whole lot more dubious. prognosis: i was running a bit low on amniotic fluid. he was going to send me to another more involved test to measure, but if i came in under 8 (not sure what unit), induction would commence, pronto.

the other test took not long enough at all, and we were told that our amniotic fluid number was 5ish. nowhere near the needed 8. she pointed us in the direction of labor and delivery.

and, see, here? this is where the whole thing gets pretty cloudy for me. i know i stood in the kaiser corridor for a long time looking out the window. i know i called my mom and cried. i might have called my dad. i know that both andy and i talked to our doula aimee. she kept telling me not to be frightened. i kept trying to hide the fact that i was crying.

its a long walk from my obgyn's office to labor and delivery. and i remember none of it. really. none at all. i remember the corridor of tears, and i remember getting off the elevator on the fourth floor of the new hospital wing, and not knowing where to go. that's all.

it was the most crowded that kaiser's labor and delivery department had ever been. leave it to us to have a baby when the barometric pressure was off the hook, one day away from the full moon, and on a tuesday, to boot. all the rooms were full, so they had to put us in an "isolation room." really. plus, they rarely have to use that room, so no one knew, at least until we had been there for a few hours, that:
1. the clock didn't work (this was the last thing, though it should have been the first, that we realized).
2. the bed was broken. really.
3. the sink didn't make hot water.

(they did bring us a new bed, and a very scared young man named jeremy came that evening to fix the sink, but the clock confounded us well into the next day).

now this? this is where things get REALLY cloudy. i was having mild contractions when i got there, which was probably around noonish (hard to tell, what with the broken clock). at 1pm, they started the pitocin drip. at first, it felt like rough cramps. stay home from work cramps, but nothing that would make you cry. sometime around 2, my mom came and together with andy, we started to play cards.

an aside: i need to learn some card games. collectively, we only knew 21 and crazy eights, and we had to explain crazy eights to andy.

it was during the card games that things began to increase steadily. at 3 we called our doula and suggested she hurry.

by 4, i was in hell. the contractions were huge, with no time at all between them. aimee pushed on my hips, my mom watched the contraction chart, and i cried and eventually made a hard decision: i threw my "natural" birth plan out the window, right onto la cienega boulevard, four stories below, and told the nurse to get the epidural guy.

i had so wanted to go without the epidural, we had such faith in our "natural" birth plan, but the pitocin had only been going for a few hours, the doctor had mentioned the potential of the boy not even making an appearance until the next day, and the pain was just magnificent. magnificent. nothing i could take even a couple more hours of. and so, i caved.

sergio the epidural man made everyone leave the room, which made me incredibly nervous, until it made me stronger. i took the shot like a champ, and felt fine (not great. but fine.) for the next several hours, as my l&d room got kind of crowded between aimee the doula, andy, my mom, my dad and andy's mom. that doesn't sound crowded, but when you're fastened to your bed with monitors, ivs, blood pressure gauges and catheters, and five other people are there, hanging out, telling funny stories, bringing gifts and calling other people, life can get very overwhelming. still, i'm glad they were there. i was still pretty terrified of what could happen next, and having my family with me assuaged a lot of anxiety.

hilarious aside: once they left, i tried to watch gossip girl. really. half numb, in labor and delivery. surprisingly, it seemed like the most vapid show ever. huh.

around ten pm, the midwife came to break my water, and i think they lowered my pitocin. it was also around this time that i realized for sure that my epidural had only numbed one half of my body. yes, only one half of my body. amazing. for the first of many times that night, we called sergio back.

aimee and andy remained through the night, trading off between the sofa and the very uncomfortable looking chairs in the room. they might have slept more than i did, which was good as i needed a little alone time to buck up a bit, but we all got a little bit of sleep that night.

sometime around 4 or 5 things started to get intense again, as i was approaching 9.5 cm dilation and 100% effacement. again, the pressure was intense, and the urge to do something about it difficult to manage. i kept begging, and then demanding to push, and all the nurse kept saying is not yet not yet. which is NOT what i wanted to hear. it was around this time that she became my mortal enemy.

aimee and andy did what they could with hand massagers on my lower back, and i did what i could to not strangle our nurse (which was not much considering i could only move one half of my body and was literally tethered to the bed with wires and tubing).

the minutes between 5 and 7 am ticked by so slowly, with very little progress between 9.5 and 10 centimeters. do you know how big half a centimeter is? most of the time? tiny. when it counts? HUGE. for two hours, i hated half-centimeters. and centimeters. and, considering the clock, all units of measurement.

but sometime around 7, after yelling at aimee that i HAD to push (i was no longer talking to the nurse, so i resorted to yelling at aimee), she looked me in the eye, and said, "go for it."

(also a bonus? you know when hospital shifts change? at seven a.m. so literally, right in the middle of this, something like 8 brand new people in the room. magically. i literally opened my eyes and there they were. and i had this thing about knowing everybody's name, so right in the midst of all of this, i'm introducing myself and making sure i'm pronouncing everybody's name right...)

i don't know how many pushes. aimee and andy said it all took less than 40 minutes. i know at one point, the doctor looked at me and said, "just one more!" but i was making three pushes with each contraction, so i had to stop the process and clarify if she meant one more push, or one more contraction (which would mean three more pushes). i caught her rolling her eyes at me.

she was right, though. the very next push had me thinking i couldn't do another. the one after that i could barely breathe through. halfway through the third, though, i caught a second wind, and thought that maybe i would make it through this after all, wow, its not really THAT bad, and then i heard all the nurses yelling and cheering, and the doctor call out "there's some light curly hair here", and squilish, there he was (see the previous post for more on this part).

arlo jacob sorrentino snavley was born on tuesday the 27th of april (my nana's birthday) at 7:52 am. he weighed 7 pounds, 10.2 ounces and was 19.75 inches long.

tomorrow is his three week birthday. at his pediatrician's appointment last wednesday, he was 8 pounds, 5 ounces, and 21 inches long, growing speedily and well.

there are days when he is an absolute peach. then there are nights like last night, when he shoots poop across the room while andy is trying to change him. i have never, in my life, been this tired, which is a lot to say given my twenties in portland. but, just when i think i can't do it anymore, that its just too damn hard, i'm too tired, my body is killing me, etc, (and a lot that i don't feel like alerting the world to is falling under that "etc"), i look down at him and he's looking up at me, and...i...i don't even know. i am owned. i have never loved anything more.

dear arlo; or, the best laid plans...

2010-04-30T10:02:00.000-07:00

hello...

a secret: when you were born, my eyes were closed. the doctor promised one more push, and i closed my eyes and pushed and heard this "squiliiiishhh" noise, and everyone in the room cheered, and i opened my eyes and there you were, in all your lavender glory. i was in another place, seemingly yards away from your dad and our doula and the doctors and the nurses, even though they were right there at my hips and legs. they handed you to me, and i opened my mouth and said, "oh my god, you're really real...you exist." it really hadn't occurred to me, after 41 weeks of preparation and waiting, that you would actually ever be here, that you would one day exist.

and now you do, and you're in your crib across the room from me, sleeping and fidgeting. i am having my first good post-baby having cry (as quietly as i can). i still can't believe you're here. and maybe its because i haven't slept for more than four hours at a stretch in the last four days, but i feel like that's ok, i don't have to sleep. i can just watch you do it.

your birthday, and the day that proceeded it, seem so long ago, but i feel like i have to get the story down, as i remember it, even though i don't really remember it. i feel like i still remember the birth we planned, not the birth we had...

but i don't think i can do it now. we have been home from the hospital since yesterday at four, and my house still feels like someone else's. my whole body still feels like someone else's...

soon.

because i am completely inappropriate...

2010-04-23T19:44:00.000-07:00

i made both my mom and andy come look at my mucus plug when it came out today.

progress is progress, and sharing is caring...

p.s. for those of you unfamiliar with some of the more disgusting facts of pregnancy, please feel free to google image mucus plugs. just not while hungry...

where things begin to get hairy.

2010-04-21T17:19:00.000-07:00

really, please, if you will...send me baby dust.

we went to see good ole doctor hersh on tuesday afternoon. at the appointment we weren't supposed to have, you know, cause arlo was supposed to be early.

he empathized with my cranky face, looked me dead in the eye, and said, "if i were you...if i were sitting where you were sitting right now, i'd have my membranes stripped." which is exactly what i had been talking with our doula about earlier that morning. so, we went for it. his first exploratory movements told us good news: my cervix was moving to the anterior from the middle, and it was soft. but then it turned bleakish: there i was, on arlo's due date, not one centimeter dilated. closed. shut. practically padlocked.

typically, the membrane stripping works best when you're already at least a little dilated. shut up like i was, it hurt badly, and was not as "satisfying" (his word) as he would have liked. "you're about one centimeter now. if it works, something should start to happen within 48 hours."

and if it doesn't? we go back early monday morning for round two.

if we still have no luck, arlo will be induced (such a strange word) on wednesday. though i know a handful of mamas that have gone through induction with very little complaint, i'm terrified. because if the induction doesn't take, then we move on to c-section.

i should say: nothing is wrong with the baby boy. we watched him in there for a bit on tuesday, squirming around, a kick here, a fist up by his face. he is pleasantly surrounded by amniotic fluid. he responds to my voice, to andy's voice, to the dogs, to jay-z. frankly, i wouldn't want to come out, either. especially today...its cold.

but he's got to. so, if you could, send him a telepathic message or two about how great things are out here, and how i'm such a good knitter, and i'll make sure he's always warm and cozy.

and away we go.

2010-04-20T01:37:00.000-07:00

(dear shanna and nicole, apologies for the last post. this one is for you.)

its almost two in the morning, on april 20. like i've said, all along, arlo will not be born today, but i'm awake anyway, with the insomnia that has come and gone over the last few weeks. today does mark the first day taurus-dom, 2010. so there's that.

given that i may have hurt feelings with my last post (though knowing my taurus friends as i do, i feel strongly they were only protesting out of protestation, not hurt feelings), i should probably make a few things clear:

my favorite people come in four types:

junes,
late augusts,
early novembers,
and tauri.

and, to be honest, if i add up the junes, augusts and novembers that i can remember, i come up with a measly ten people.

just for kicks, here's a partial listing of the tauri i've adored, off the top of my head:
nanna, benett, nomi, mike, robby, kahlil, pete, alex, libby, nicole, ally, jessica, kirsti, shanna, sam, and the countless other people we had a party for back in 2002 at the oregon street house. obviously, i'm outnumbered, not to mention that i know i'm forgetting some.

i have no beef with you, taurus. it is more like i am in awe of you. you outdo me. i can't compete. and yet, i gravitate to you, like moth to flame. i meet someone, i instantly love them, and indeed, they are one of you.

and now (some day hopefully soon), i'll have one of you for my very own...i am simply so unprepared.

apparently lingering longer.

2010-04-18T14:43:00.000-07:00

though, in all honesty, he's still not officially "due." that would be sometime between tomorrow and tuesday.

its likely my own fault for getting my knickers in a knot about arlo being early. so, i take full blame for that.

but here we are, sunday at almost 3pm...in the last seven days i have had two panic attacks, two thai dinners, one taco bell lunch, one large serving of black beans, one "labor salad" from caioti, enough prunes to accomplish one thing or another, one long walk through the farmers market and the earth day festival at third street promenade, and a new pair of shoes. none of these things have thus proved exciting enough to move the boy.

our favorite farmer's market farmer, mr. avila, took one look at me and said that it would be another nine days. it was only the fact that he is portuguese and my dead portuguese grandfather would hate me for it that saved me from punching mr. avila in the face. that, and the fact that his wife was not too far away, and i'm a little afraid of her...he predicted NEXT sunday. sooooo far away.

plus, that would make arlo a taurus, and we're trying to avoid that (ducking).

officially, four.

2010-04-15T18:52:00.000-07:00

but dr. hersh doesn't think we'll make it through the weekend. we'll see. in the meantime, what i've been up to while waiting for arlo (other than contemplating re-writing beckett's play):

the blik stick-on banner above his crib.

his nursing/reading/playing area in the kitchen nook we never used. i made the green knitted blanket on the chair, and i wish i could say that the baby piano was the same one i had when i was little, but alas, andy bought it a couple of years ago at a resale shop. the shelves hold books and toys (details next photo) and the rocking chair pillow and rug are from ikea. the bone in the foreground belongs to lincoln.

from right: the little bear was andy's, the knit kitty was mine from my nana. the gray bins are from target and hold assorted toys, and on the shelves and in the basket are the aforementioned 64 books...

his corner of our room. among the things on the shelf: cutest baby converse EVER from kirsti, little blue knitted booties from l.e., a little keepsake box from roxanne, and a tiny painting of "happy" the dwarf by my tia olginha from brazil (that she probably painted in 1950).

his changing area in our bathroom. in the foreground, obviously his changing pad and a cute blue bird nightlight. on the shelf: towels, washcloths, and burt's bees toiletries. diapers and wipes in the green basket. once he comes home, we'll be using 7th generation newborn disposables and wipes, but once his umbilical cord heals, we're switching to gdiapers (more on those in a later post).

missing from this photo: the WHALE OF A TUB that lauren and adam got us. i'm waiting til arlo's here to take the "baby in a bath" photo and post it...

uh-huh. this is what they mean when they say "nesting instinct". sometime around week 37, i became obsessed with washing and folding baby clothes. and purchasing color coordinated baskets and shelf paper. clockwise from the top left: basket full of socks, green basket with birth to 3 months pjs, green basket with birth to 3 month day time clothes, stacks of blankets, blue baskets of 6 months + clothes.

should he linger longer, expect photos of my hospital bag soon. i feel for you folks.

eight!

2010-04-11T18:07:00.000-07:00

only eight. and that is, of course, if i make it. if you were with me yesterday, when andy and i struggled through a day of breakfast out (we are relishing these meals out while we can), target, a quick short visit with my mom, and then dinner out (see what i mean?) and then trader joe's (more on tjs later), and cvs, you would have thought this little boy would have made his appearance by noon today.

ever since my dr.'s appointment last thursday, when he alerted me to the fact that i was having a contraction without really knowing it, i have been feeling them ALL THE TIME (i am powerfully open to suggestion. this has now been officially confirmed). after a fairly stressful last day of work on friday, and then an even more stressful (for no good reason) saturday, i was literally under siege, at one point trapped in a public restroom, in a half standing/half sitting position, as that exact position was the only one i could be in without vocalizing in pain. one inch either way, and it was all over.

i ended up hobbling out to find andy in the restaurant, and told him "can't do it, have to go home." only for us to get in the car, drive 4 blocks, have me tell him to hold on and park in the neighborhood for a minute or two, that maybe it would pass. then sit in the car and writhe a bit til it did, and then GO BACK to get dinner and finish up at trader joe's. only to end up at home, 2 hours later, in hot panicky tears, putting away $200 of trader joe's groceries (can you imagine how much food that is?) that we bought, with "stocking up" in mind.

obviously late pregnancy is making me into a crazy person.

today has been much more relaxed, and i haven't felt anything pain-wise, other than a dull ache in my head, and a looming worry of what i will do with myself with this time off work before arlo shows up. such a stupid thing to worry about, i know, but i actually made myself a list earlier: with something to do each day, just so i can stay busy.

since WHEN am i somebody who needs to stay busy? last i checked, i found nothing wrong with sitting in my pajamas all day long, eating countless cups of yogurt and watching an entire 6 episode dvd of perry mason...

also,

2010-04-10T17:08:00.000-07:00

we are down to single digits, as of today.

like i said, yesterday was my last day of work (until sometime in august), admittedly, it was not one of my best. i woke up with a case of anxiety i haven't seen the likes of since i was a teenager, and it grew all day until resolving itself over a red velvet cupcake from big man bakes downtown (a new discovery, though i have to admit i liked it better when i thought it was called "big man cakes").

i will miss work (am i really saying this?) like fever. i figured it out a bit last night, after worrying over it like a splinter for a good couple hours, while trying to explain it all to andy:

several years ago, i really wanted to finish college. so i kind of let other aspects of my life slip: i had a crappy job, when i had one; i had a crappy boyfriend, when i had one, etc. i just focused on school, and finishing, and lo and behold, i graduated, and my grandma got to see it.

next, i met andy. and he seemed worth really trying to get better at relationships. and so i made this relationship my priority. i had some really crappy jobs in there, again, when i had one, and we had some rough patches, but we seem to be able to navigate together, even when seas are less than gentle. and i like him, and he says he likes me, so we've got that going for us.

a little over two years ago, i decided i needed to make a change at work (and boy, did i need to make a change at work). and i did, and i got lucky enough to stumble into a career that i really like, and not too long after that, stumble on to an agency that i really like, and about 12 colleagues that i love, and a boss that i admire and adore. and i've been plugging away since then, through good days and bad and missed goals and met, and etc. and, i'm happy there. mostly satisfied with the work i do. eager to learn more. nowhere near done.

and yet.

i am understanding now (finally?) that the focus is changing. somehow, over the last several months, i've missed that point. but, with my last day, and my tidied (but not cleaned -- i'm coming back) office, and everyone coming in to ask about when we're going to get cupcakes and then staying to chat about about how much my life is going to change, it hit me, major.

and its not that i'm frightened (i don't think i am), or feel unprepared (definitely not, and photos to prove it are forthcoming). i'm not reticent, or unsure, and lord knows i haven't changed my mind (no, no, nope)...its just, i can't put my finger on it. maybe its that i am so ready? i honestly don't know.

likely, its that change is afoot. and the only thing i've ever been sure of when change has been afoot before is just how much i'd like a set of training wheels,a nice big bottle of knob creek, and a three-day cry...

today is my last day of work...

2010-04-09T12:56:00.000-07:00

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Something drops out of your schedule and leaves a wonderful void. Fill it with your dreams for yourself.

and that is my horoscope from today's la times.

huh.

two weeks.

2010-04-05T08:15:00.001-07:00

i don't even know what to think!

bookworms

2010-03-22T20:15:00.000-07:00

dear arlo,
i am holding out hopes that you will turn out just like your mama (your dad is so against this). but as of today, with you not even born yet, you already own 62 books.

also: your "official" countdown is only 28 days...i can't wait to meet you!

xo
me.

i am, apparently, the czar of ruining this country. as it should be.

2010-03-14T11:09:00.000-07:00

#3

2010-03-13T13:30:00.000-08:00

hi arlo,

just want to send you a quick note to let you know that you're freaking us out a little bit. you're due here in, um, somewhere just over 30 days (just), except...you seem to be settling down a little. and by down, i mean, literally, down. as in, down, with your head right there in my pelvis, ready to go. dr. hersh (who has yet to find out about your southern movement) says to expect you sometime around april 19, though first babies are often late. that's 5 weeks from this coming monday. aimee the doula, and all the the books i've read tell me that once you've dropped (or "lightened", how pretty is THAT?!), we can expect you out in 2-4 weeks.

um, arlo? you come from a LONG line (on your mother's side, anyway) of people who are late. i don't know if they were born late, but once on this earth, both the italians and the brazilian/portugueses have taken being late to a high art form. for better or for worse, members of my family have been DAYS late to things. now, i know that a few weeks ago, i was saying, "only nine weeks left, look around, say your goodbyes...", but arlo! please please pretty please, be a bit of a buddhist and find the middle way between my people and your dad's folk (who are always very on time), and try to stay a little longer in there than two more weeks.

we're excited to meet you, i promise, and your crib is set up, and your stroller is put together, but don't you want a nice place to change your diapers? and a pretty little sunlit kitchen play/read/nurse area? of course you do. so hold tight.

plus, i'm sure you want me to finish up all my work at work, right? i will probably spend the rest of my life trying to explain this to you, but hey kid: i have to finish these grants! there are so many people out there who have so much less than we have, and we need to be diligent about making the world more fair (another thing you will get about me once you're out and get to know me a bit better, my devotion to making the world better. its kind of why i'm so excited, ON ONE HAND, for you to get here, as your mere presence - i just know - will do a lot toward that cause).

so, my little, how 'bout a compromise? do you know what april 5, 2010 would have been? your great grandpa john's (my mom's dad) one hundred and eighth birthday. no fooling. he was an amazing man, born in 1902 in portugal, and he came to hawaii on a big ship, sailing all around south america when he was only 5 or 6 years old. and he grew up and worked for franklin roosevelt, and traveled all around, and wrote lots of letters to newspapers, and was a member of the harry s. truman appreciation society. and he loved einstein. and flowers. and grapefruit and chocolate milk. and he was, is, in fact, hands down, the smartest man i have ever known, plus he had a dirty sense of humor, which is almost always a good thing. you just wait, you'll hear tons of stories about him...

anyway, you could do a whole lot worse than be born on his birthday, so lets try for that, ok? that's about 3 weeks and four days after your "lightening" adventures of last thursday. you don't have to decide now, just promise me you'll think about it.

also, have i told you your middle name? nicole helped decide (or maybe just announce) it: jacob. perhaps a little obvious, but when andy vetoed hemingway, all i could think of for a couple of weeks is brett and jake, and "you've got a hell of a biblical name." there aren't many people i'll willingly take advice from, but i usually sit still and listen to hemingway.

ok. so see you on the 5th, right?
xo
mama.

a tribute; to colleagues and tiffany's...

2010-02-26T11:32:00.000-08:00

i should preface by saying: i watched way too many audrey hepburn movies when i was in junior high school. way too many, and way too many times each. i did love breakfast at tiffany's best, mostly because of how different the capote book was, and that dichotomy there. plus, audrey and learning portuguese and and cat masks and ukeleles on the fire escape. that movie was everything that los angeles in the late 80s was not.

also: holly's "two selves" speak to me, still, the tomboy and the glamour girl. i was always, and am always still, much more this:

with my hair in a hanky, distracted, humming and off in my own world.

as i grew up, i remained the same. not so much the glamour with me. never a girl for jewelry (i lose it, it breaks, etc). if my hair is brushed, and i have lipstick on, i consider the day a success.

still, though, there's something about that little blue box:

given the way my life has gone so far, i kind of figured it to be a life absent of little blue boxes. and i didn't mind, terribly. i was fine out here, hair in a hanky, on the fire escape. but this year has been strange that way. this little boy is getting ready to greet the world, and with him all kinds of change has come.

my coworkers (my wonderful wonderful coworkers) threw me a baby shower yesterday, complete with confetti, games, little plastic pacifiers and a gigantic red velvet cake with blue frosting and nonpareils. and there were some gifts, and one came in a purple gift bag. inside the bag was one of those little blue boxes.

for a moment, i thought it was a little bit of a joke, a fast one. one of my favorite people here recently received a little blue box from her dad for her birthday, and i jokingly asked her if i could have the box when she was done with it, just so i could pretend.

i may have even asked if this was the same box, as i pulled it out of the purple bag. but when i took off the ribbon, and opened it up, there was a little blue bag inside that matched the little blue box, and it said, "tiffany's" and i may have started to tremble a little. i know i started to cry.

inside:

a charm bracelet, with a little silver heart padlock, engraved with, "it's a boy"

dear db, ttf, rr, rr, sf, ll, rg, gg, sc, mb, dl, mg, kw-m, dc, gc, cm, and anyone else who had anything to do with this:

THANK YOU.

(heart),
hg.

further adventures at target

2010-02-17T18:04:00.000-08:00

dear panhandling lady who approached me by my car,
you might have fared better if you kept your "twins?" comment to yourself.
best of luck in the future,
me.

dear baby #2

2010-02-11T12:04:00.000-08:00

that does sound a little misleading, doesn't it? ironically, one of my bosses best friends, who i will call Pablo for anonymity, is hoping there's a baby number two hiding behind you. but only so he can have it. he is also hoping baby number two is asian. you will meet pablo one day. maybe then you will understand.

so. there are not two babies (pablo's hopes aside - I HOPE!), but this is my second letter to you. tomorrow, you will have nine weeks left in there. i hope you took my warning a couple weeks ago to heed and that you're getting ready to greet the great outdoors. i know that your kicks (and worse! your from the inside of my belly finger scratches - those are WEIRD!) are getting a bit stronger, i imagine you're running out of room in there. start accepting the idea that move-out date is coming soon. you should also start accepting the fact that the longer you stay in there, the more anxious your dad and i are to meet you, or at least to get you to respond to us (you'll realize we're kind of like that), so all those annoying things we've (really, HE has) been doing, like shining a flashlight on my belly, and using the baby monitor backwards with the headphones on you while your dad talks into the microphone...those will only get more frequent.

we are also stepping up our hypnobabies classes, and all of a sudden i'm getting worried about how you're going to get out of there. where my first forays into self-hypnosis were great (i even fell asleep!) last night's practice had me opening my eyes, getting itchy, and most offensive, getting bored with the whole process. i am trying not to get nervous. its not going well.

your aunt no no will be here this weekend, and you will hear a whole lot of other folk, who have all decided to descend on your great-grandma's house for your baby shower. truly, i am stunned at the number of folks coming! we will have to take some time aside this summer (once you're out) to introduce you to all of them, so you can thank them in person for all the fun stuff they're buying for you. meanwhile, we will take photos on saturday, and i will ask them to write little messages to you, just in case you grow up to be a sentimental kind of boy...

one really nice thing i have to thank you for: arlo, you are good at calming me. even last night during the itchy annoying hypnosis practice, i put my hand on my belly and felt you nudging me and thought, yep, here we are little boy. you and me. and we'll get through this, somehow, this birth, this life, this whole big future, hopefully without hating eachother. i will take care of you, and you, by your very existence, are taking care of me. and andy, too. we'll all be ok.

that is, unless sarah palin runs for and wins the presidency in 2012. in that case, we're moving. really, really, really far.

2010-02-05T07:43:00.001-08:00

TEN! ah, ah, ah....

dear baby,

2010-01-30T10:07:00.000-08:00

you have 11 more weeks in there, max, before dr. hersh sends eviction/induction paperwork in. i think that sounds unpleasant, so you'd better start thinking about bidding that uterus you've been squatting in farewell...and if you could do it before my belly button pops out (its getting pretty shallow), i'd love it.

i'm sure you've heard, your name is arlo. i was slow to come around to it (amy helped), but i'm loving it these days. i'll let you know now, as i'm sure you'll probably spend much of your life answering this question, you were not named after arlo guthrie. if we were to name you after a guthrie, your name would surely be woody. but we both vetoed that pretty fast. we just like arlo. its an old man and a little boy's name. and its uncommon, but not too. and i like writing it in cursive. you'll get that about me later.

as of today, you don't have a middle name and considering it took us over 20 weeks to come up with arlo, please be patient. one thing you should also get used to: one of your parents is an excellent decision maker; precise, opinionated and sharp. the other one is, well not. i'm not telling you who is who. wink.

p.s. your aunt nicole will probably call you jz. you will not likely break her from this habit, so just smile and own it. i think you secretly love it (i know i do), if only for how much you bump around when hova comes on my pandora at work.

xoxo
mama

goodbyes.

2010-01-29T13:05:00.000-08:00

life was so much better on wednesday, when you two were still around.

howard zinn.
j.d. salinger.
rest in peace.

little boy, if andy was down, as of today your name would be jerome zinn. instead of the dreaded jerry, we could call you jz for short.

around the world in 80 days...

2010-01-26T19:26:00.000-08:00

slowly, slowly it is dawning on my how different everything will be.

this is my last tax filing wherein i do not have a dependent. that threw me for a loop earlier this evening.

baby stuff is cropping up around the house; things that i've made, things that we've received, the dwell bouncy chair from target (with the cute little elephants) is sitting on top of the piano so the dogs don't crawl in it.

in 80 days i will be a parent and, aside from a fun filled weekend just north of santa cruz last july, i'm not sure how i got here...

throwing my hands up in the air

2010-01-23T15:37:00.001-08:00

we went over my cousin's for dinner last night. on the way, i said to andy, "just for the sake of not getting into it, if anyone asks, we haven't decided on a name yet, ok?"

to which he answered, "well, we haven't. have we?!"

i

officially

give

up.

2010-01-17T10:48:00.000-08:00

traggy, sharing secrets.

(i think)

2010-01-15T16:55:00.001-08:00

ninety-five

2010-01-11T16:07:00.000-08:00

days to go.

i have been crying a lot. i've heard its to be expected, but there it is: i cry every day.

i feel this little one moving in me, most often in the late mornings or later evenings. he doesn't like frozen yogurt (i don't really like it either). sometimes, i actually see him stretch out -- my belly moves in two different directions at once -- but most times its a nudge here, a nudge there, maybe ten or fifteen in a row and then he's comfortable again.

i had a breakdown on thursday night about names. trying to explain to andy how much i need this figured out has been difficult. we have known that he's a boy since november (ironically, the day after we figured out what his name would have been if he were a girl). there are names on the chalkboard in the dining room, there are names in cursive scrawled throughout my work notebook, thanksgiving, christmas, and other assorted family gatherings have been spent tossing names out into the ether. from todd to enzo to bubba, i've heard it all at this point.

thursday was the breaking point. i came home, sat across the dining room table from andy and said, "i've got to know. i am not one of those women, one of those mothers, who can wait until this little is on my chest, red and puffy and exhausted, to look out the window and say, yes, you my little man, you look like a _____. its just not in my constitution. i need to know. i need to have it figured out. i need to talk to him."

it didn't really work as planned (thank you hormones, thank you tears).

then on saturday, we had dinner with some friends, and a friend of one of theirs, a mother of a six year old girl named sofie, leaned across the table to andy and said, "she's right. she's got to know. she and this kid need to start making plans, and she's got to respectfully address him by name to do so." he seemed to respect that point of view.

strangely enough, the two names i'm liking most right now (now that enzo and joseph are out of the running. what have i learned from this experience? compromise.), are two names that he's suggested. little four letter ones, they both end in o.

nicole and i talked briefly about taking back the night and naming him oliver or jake. but...i.just.can't.do.it. first: hemingway reference aside, jake has now usurped michael as the #1 most popular name for boys. plus, i can just imagine arcularius high stepping through town thinking i've named my son after him. i mean, its like the best imagining, ever, but still. and oliver? guh, oliver. among other things he left drowned in his wake was, unfortunately, the possibility that i'd ever name my offspring oliver.

so, the two names. here are my hints: one is the same real name of the boy who dated rory on the gilmore girls. strangely, i had a crush on him, too, cause he reminded me of oliver. he's more famous now, but i don't watch the show that he's on.

the other: a musician. andy doesn't like miles, cause he thinks that people will think we named him after miles davis. oddly, he doesn't think that if we name our child this four letter name ending in o, people will think we named him after _ _ _ o _ _ _ _ _ _ _, even though he is the only person named _ _ _ o i can think of.

i haven't told andy yet, mostly because it just occurred to me about 45 seconds ago, but what do you think of the middle name hemingway?

xo.

all day monday, i knew i was forgetting something

2010-01-07T17:22:00.001-08:00

happy belated, jms.

an amendment

2010-01-05T15:56:00.000-08:00

7 pets.

nicole and i had a carnival fish named queequeg that comitted kitchen sink suicide one very rainy night in portland.

i don't know where jeff t. smith is these days, but i have to offer him up love and thanks for rushing to our house after i left a surely unintelligible phone message for him, half crying, half laughing, mostly screaming. he didn't even look too disgusted when threw open the door, expecting a huge emergency, and instead found two girls devastated over the half dead goldfish in their sink. he just scooped it up, put it in the freezer, and walked out the door.

rewinding...

2009-12-31T17:17:00.000-08:00

listening to all things considered reporting on the decade in review, and contemplating. it seems, really a good moment for contemplation.

can i remember how i rang in 2000?
(oh jesus, wait, yes.)

i think i came back here, to la, and went to a party in brentwood. i don't know whose party it was. i think i went with alexandra. we didn't eat dinner, instead opting for sushi purchased from the ralph's where we also purchased vodka and orange juice. i'm sure you can see where this is going...i woke up on the living room floor of that brentwood apartment, my pretty banana republic cardigan ruined, and drove us home. i flew back to portland later that night, leaving my house keys in my dad's truck on the way to lax. definitely not one of my prouder moments.

oh wait NO. i think that was ringing in 1999. i don't remember 2000 at all, except for being pretty sure that my dad got married on new year's day 2000.

nye 2000 may have been the night that nicole and i lost libby. i was almost 26. pink house on weidler. free taxis all night. sounds right to me.

my decade in review: 7 pets, including the pit bull that came to live with us for a week in 2002. moved 6 times, including that last one in the uhaul with nicole and amy. i may have already known nicole (can't remember) but i met amy and nika and karl and so many wonderful portlanders. NINE jobs. wow. 3 cars. i finished school. i fell in love wrongly, wrongly, wrongly, then rightly. 3 presidential elections, all of which made me cry (and got to learn that crying through laughter is the best thing ever). got into lots of trouble, jumped through hoops of fire, laughed, sang, cried, wrote pointless letters and extensive journals, and slept...a lot.

this time in ten years will see me as the mom of a 9 year old boy. fourth grade? soccer, baseball? sketches of dragons and dinosaurs? remote control cars? the concept is bewildering. and intoxicating. i'll probably know his name by then.

i think i'm ready.

nbr; having read the book...

2009-12-26T21:14:00.000-08:00

ps: nicole. i find our posts today interesting...

there are some people i know not so well, who seemingly know me very well, i.e. our development assistant at work, my boyfriend's mother's boyfriend, and daisy, one of my work friends (who i actually know so-so, but like a lot...). they all got me gift cards to an unnamed bookstore (i will not get flamed by you, portland. i am at sea here in southern california when it comes to independent bookstores, having searched for somewhere reliable and interesting for the better part of 5 years...).

anyway, i just got back. my haul:
Charlotte Bronte, Villette

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Collected Stories

Markus Zusak (i'm kind of in love with his name), The Book Thief

Colum McCann (his name, too), Let the Great World Spin

E.M. Forster, A Room With A View (can't remember if i've read this or not)

Charles Dickens, Hard Times (my first foray into Dickens territory. i was afraid of the more obvious choices, so i went for this one, as i was liked the cover)

T.C. Boyle, The Women (a little fascinated with Frank Lloyd Wright these days)

Stieg Larsson, The Girl Who Played With Fire (i just finished the book that came before this one, and was pissed at how it ended. hopefully, this one makes up for it, as i spent hardback money).

The boy has bet that i'll be done with all of them by mid-february, which for me seems fine, as that will see me right through to my birthday, and hopefully more book cards.

and also! i checked out the childrens section of this particular unnamed bookstore. not too big, nowhere near too small. not too licensed. found this:

WANT.

i mean,

2009-12-20T19:25:00.000-08:00

#10. did i tell you about pregnancy brain?

and andy reminded me:

2009-12-20T19:23:00.000-08:00

11. somehow, what with my distastes for incense, squalor and tourists (yes, among many other things), venice beach may not be the best place for breakfast on a particularly cranky sunday morning.

ok, so time slipped away

2009-12-20T19:00:00.000-08:00

a list of things that are happening/have happened:

1. we had our big ultrasound on December 2. the one where you have to drink your weight in water and not pee for 2 hours. our technician was this absolutely lovely woman, who clearly loved her job, and explained everything to us while she counted the sections of the umbilical cord, the chambers of the heart, the sections of the brain, the kidneys, bladder, etc. she and andy chatted the whole time, while i lay there, trying to stay interested, fearing i would pee my pants. when it was over, i ran down the hall to the bathroom barefoot, clutching the back of the gown.

2. three days later, we heard that everything is a-ok with the little nameless boy in my stomach.

3. about a week after that, i was in the bathtub. the water no longer covers my tummy, which i think is funny. while i was looking at it - thump! it moved! not the baby, the tummy! it jumped! (so yes, it was the baby, but still). the first thing it reminded me of is boiling water. or, you know, aliens.

4. the new catchphrase at work is, "wow, you really look pregnant today." i guess i can be thankful for the placement of the "really".

5. did i mention still no name? still no name.

6. three more days, and then i'm on vacation for a week and a half.

7. that grant i wrote about weeks back? we got it!

8. things have been very stressful. i'm trying not to concentrate on the stressful, but i'm a worrier by nature, and its hard, because then i start worrying that i'm worrying too much.

9. holiday shopping = done. note to amy and nicole: that said shopping, not shipping. my hope is to get to the usps manana.

ok, nine is good. more later.

this post brought to you by....

2009-11-16T22:37:00.000-08:00

the color blue. ahem.

first of all,

2009-11-15T18:41:00.001-08:00

don't even cross me these days. i am vicious. my crank will hurt you.

second of all: i went shopping on saturday, for a nice dress (but not too fancy) to wear to my work's annual meeting. i had seen this dress:
online at the gap, but i wanted to wait til i got paid to buy it.

turns out, it took 5 days for this dress to sell out. which i thought was odd, but oh well.

my mom and i got to the mall at 1 pm on saturday, starting at nordstroms, because she thought they might have a really nice maternity department. the whole time i was kind of thinking that i've NEVER seen a maternity department in nordstroms, but i was trying to not be argumentative (see above).

i was right.

so we ventured into the mall, heading for gap kids. the gap's website told me that the gap kids at that specific mall had a maternity section.

they were wrong.

we passed by motherhood, and peeked in, and i did find some comfy pjs (lincoln at a whole through the vera wang ones last week), but all the dresses looked like ick. so then we went to target. no dresses.

enter mall 2 (yes, that kind of day). the gap again, macy's, old navy, jc penney's, and then sears. which is where i kind of lost it. we picked out an outfit, and i tried it on, and i started to cry (see above), and said, "this would be the perfect work event outfit, if i worked at tgifridays, and my job was walking around at 18 weeks pregnant, asking if people wanted to try the fried calamari appetizers!" to which my mother put her head in her hands and said "oh no," in a tone i hadn't heard since we were in the gunne sax section of bullocks wilshire when i was 12 years old, searching for dresses for my friend's bat mitzvah.

on the way out of mall 2, we went to another motherhood store, and i ended up finding something. granted, its nowhere near as cute as that gap dress - just looking at the photo makes me mourn that i can't wear that gap dress - but its allright cute and kind of eggplant purple, and will look nice with my brown boots, and a pretty leather/feather headband i bought for far too much money while we were at the nordstrom. i'll try to post a photo.

we find out the BIG news on wednesday. coincidentally, while my boss is out of town. the two items combined might mean i get NO WORK done on wednesday, but i'll try my best (he might read this). i will, of course, keep you posted.

xo.

in good news...

2009-11-05T18:01:00.001-08:00

i wrote about the promotion over the summer. i'm writing grants now. which is hard, and fun, and harder, and then done. someone once said that the best thing about writing was having written. i don't know who he is, but i name him my king. or queen, if the case.

anyway. i worked through most of august writing a grant for a program very close to my heart, a program for teenage girls, designed to build their self-esteem through literature (see?). i read everything i could find about the program. i googled stats on young latina women (did you know that one in three seriously considers suicide?). i talked to both program coordinators, many many times. i spent two afternoons with the girls in the center, asking prying questions, making tissue paper flowers, and talking about cheerleading, target and kanye west.

it was a fairly straightforward grant application, fill in the blank, short essay questions, and i struggled for weeks to get the right amount of feeling through. to show how exceptional this program was, to show how WELL it worked. revisions, revisions, revisions and exclamations of "wait! 500 characters?! I thought it was 500words! who does that?!" abounded.

and then, poof. 1st of september and off it went, through the ether of the internet and through the usps, registered, certified.

early last week, we found out that they wanted to do a site visit. i couldn't go, but my boss and our ceo went this afternoon. my boss called me about an hour ago, and told me how amazing it was, how he met all the girls i had told him about, how the girls told their stories, sad, funny, rambling, etc. "you could see it in her eyes," he said about the woman from the foundation, "she had never been to a site visit like this."

and, i cried.

i don't want this cause its the first grant i wrote for this agency. i don't want this cause i wrote it. i want it for those girls, and their joy and their heartbreak, and their irrepressible teenage-ness; breaking out into cheerleading moves, listing the virtues of lil wayne, making me try to say things in spanish, eating a box of cookies in 10 minutes, casting their eyes downward, casting their chins upward, being as amazing as anything can.

nothing is as impressive, or as fragile, as a teenage girl.

we find out for sure on december 12. keep your fingers crossed.

amnio tomorrow.

2009-11-04T01:48:00.000-08:00

because you really needed that imagery, right?

i thought i wasn't nervous. i thought i was just tired, so i went to sleep at 9pm. now i'm up fairly terrified.

not that anythings wrong...this is not a mom-to-be kind of worry, this is a good old fashioned, omg, i hate needles kind of worry. granted, the needle fear has let up as of late; what with all the poking they do when they find out you're pregnant, but a big needle in my tummy? that i need an anaesthetic for? that's scary.

plus, we know that nothing is likely wrong. our first trimester screenings came back last week, and they were great: the baby has a 1 in 100,000 chance of having down syndrome (the average for a woman my age is 1 in 465), and a 1 in 5,5000 chance of having trisonomy (average 1 in 338). basically, our genetic counselor told us we were exempt from having any more tests, but we already had the amnio scheduled and wanted to know FOR SURE FOR SURE...

still, i'm a little petrified. like, up at 2 am petrified.

i will try to go back to sleep and not think of big needles and amniotic fluid oozing out of a hole in my tummy. because you needed that imagery, too.

gnite.

15 weeks; or, somebody save me i just spent $30 at michael's on scrapbooking supplies.

2009-10-21T17:52:00.000-07:00

oh, how i wish i were joking.

i have been in braided hair and my pajamas on and off for 7 days now. turns out (and you might find this hard to believe), i lack stamina.

the nonprofit i work for hosted its 5th annual golf tournament last monday (and by that, i mean, i hosted a golf tournament last monday). its certainly something i've done before, last january even, not to mention june's healthy living expo and casino night. and granted, all of those events tuckered me out.

after the january's golf tournament, i spent the next morning in these same swanky vera wang pjs, watching the inauguration (in fact, purchased the pjs -on sale- for precisely that occasion. couldn't show up to the party underdressed). i didn't have much time to rest after the healthy living expo, but i had a total meltdown in one of the laac's less swanky rooms the morning after casino night. it took me about three days to recover from that night. i even missed etta james at the hollywood bowl that weekend (luckily, so did she. though i do rue missing adele).

but this time around...no way dude.

for reasons i won't go into here that have quite nothing to do with me or my department, this year's golf tournament was a doozy. perhaps 3x the work as last year? maybe 4? we were all nutso by friday night, and then i went to work on the sunday before for a good 8 hours. monday came, monday went, no big problem, but a lion's share of little things gone wrong. i did get home in time to watch gossip girl.

and then i died. which i told you a little bit about in the last entry, but look! i'm still here! in my pajamas at 6pm! dead to the world! official dr. statement: you're tired; rest.

really?

so i am here, three dogs and vera wang pajamas to keep me company. i am knitting (photos to come - hope this baby likes green, cause i sure do!). i am watching season 4 of (yes!) perry mason on dvd. i am poking at the little lump in my lower abdomen, making it promise she's a girl (i am convinced, and i do hate being proven wrong).

having read the entire salinger catalog in the last 3 days, i am still trying to woo andy over to the side of phoebe. as my beautifully british friend lisa johnson said the other night, its a beautiful and worldly name, and you can always call her bee for short. i love lisa johnson. she's asked me to handwrite her wedding invitations.

i am reading a lot of npr.com. forgive me if i link you to death.

biblical names: a 4,700 year old pine named for him

2009-10-15T19:24:00.000-07:00

(watching jeopardy while blogging. my guess is moses. abraham? answer: methusala, who i knew was very old, but i thought was female. oh well.)

am feeling interesting. i have officially become intrigued with the change, and a little more convinced that i am, indeed, going to be somebody's mom in a little bit over 6 months. six months ago, it was april. i was overwhelmed at work, and having jr high school friends over for bbqs where we all drank too much tequila.

and now its october, and i'm in my 14th week of pregnancy.

i am past the nausea, for which i'm amazingly grateful. i am also all the way out of my regular lisa clothes, except for the potato sack dresses of which i am so enamoured.

i am in a bit of trouble with the doctors, as i've somehow managed to lose 4 pounds in 7 days (which is so unfair, as its certainly nothing i could have done not pregnant!), and my blood pressure is sinking back down to lows that no one is comfortable with, which has me, once again, on the couch with my feet higher than my head, but...

i had my 1st trimester screening on wednesday. given that my dr didn't give us any photos at our last appointment, the sonogram technician was able to print out a few while she chased the baby around my uterus trying to get a good sightline of the structure behind its spine. would you believe that andy and i have produced a bit of an uncooperative baby? i know, who would have guessed?! at one point the technician looked up and laughed and said "its tilting its head at the exact angle that makes seeing what i need to see impossible." so she took the sonogram device and just poked away at my belly, trying to get it to move. it was all i could do not to laugh, but given they needed me to have a full bladder, it was really in my best interest not to.

anyway, i finally got to look, and listen to the heartbeat, which was so loud i thought somebody was moving something in the next room over. the baby, when i got to look, was lying on its back, feet up in the air, making little hiccup movements. i couldn't make out its arms so well, but there were five little polka dots hovering in the center of the sonogram: fingers!

it is now 3 inches long, no longer a plum, but a rather good sized apple. i will know the results of the screening sometime late next week, and we have elected to have the amnio sometime the week of november 4. although i am convinced that i am having a girl, others are not, so i've given up on thinking of names since andy vetoed phoebe.

andy is also claiming that scanning the ultrasound photos is "a huge pain", so until i get him to cooperate, you all will be photoless. bomb his email. i dare you.

hormonal, tired and, wait am i getting a cold?

2009-10-03T00:07:00.000-07:00

i promise that soon one of these pregnancy posts will be joyful. but i'm just not there yet. right now finds me on the couch, trying to type around the 40 pound dog that just slumped on my lap and is making his best effort to lick my typing fingers.

ok, he's gone.

so, i'm tired. and super busy at work, missing deadlines, forgetting phone calls, trying to remember to eat lunch. and all the missing and forgetting has me fretting that i'm going to lose my job, and making bad decisions, like walking into my boss's office this morning and asking him point blank if i was going to lose my job (i mean, i figured, what's the worst he can say? yes? which is not so bad considering i was pretty sure he was going to say yes. ps: he didn't say yes. he looked at me and cracked up laughing.), eating too many tortilla chips, staying up too late.

also: staying up too late means staying up til 10pm. given its a quarter after midnight now, and believe me you, it feels like four o'clock in the morning.

i guess i have to get into the swing of things a bit more. i am starting to, bit by bit. i think that next weeks dr. appointment will do me well. and i will take the sonogram photo to my dad, who is making the baby a rocking horse from scratch. and i will find out when i can get a flu shot, which is making me completely nervous, considering that since i was 11 years old i've been certain that in a past life i died of the spanish flu. h1n1 has severely creeped me out since may.

right now i just feel too congested and tired and cranky to be anyone's friend for more than 5 minutes. and sensitive? oh boy. don't even look at me funny, i'll be sitting on your lap begging you to tell me that you didn't mean it for half an hour....

wait wait wait: good news! no more nausea...

guh; or, not for the faint of heart.

2009-09-16T12:36:00.000-07:00

low blood pressure sucks.

nausea sucks.

the runs suck.

wooziness sucks.

i hate it when the room spins.

i'm tired of the couch.

its my fault, really, for saying, "i think i'm round the bend, feeling much better" one too many times over the weekend.

why i love the boy...

2009-09-12T18:09:00.000-07:00

because when he found out the cash i dropped for incubator-wear, he handed me a hundred bucks and said, "i mean, it is kinda my fault, right?" (and it was, seriously, the sweetest thing ever. seriously).

things i can no longer tolerate

2009-09-12T14:34:00.000-07:00

(and am completely heartbroken over):

fried food. don't go hating. i don't mean chicken, or bacon or whatever. i mean fried tofu with broccoli and peanut sauce. not happening. or, the best food in the world: mcdonalds french fries and chicken nuggets. soooo not happening. croutons? nope. reluctant to try a sunny side up egg.

the smell of fish. even tuna fish, which i made last night. and while it tasted amazing, i had to eat it quickly, trying not to breathe in through my nose. my co worker had ceviche for lunch yesterday and i had to stare at the ceiling to keep the room from spinning.

the most heartbreaking (and if you know me well, please sit down)? coffee. i have not had coffee for over a week. i cannot remember the last time i haven't had coffee for over a week. i have probably never not had coffee for over a week.

any and all butter or butter substitutes.

any and all cleaning products, even and especially mrs. myers or whatever its called.

conversely, all i want to eat are peaches. and peach smoothies. i put a peach in my water yesterday. yes, i did. it looked gross, but it tasted gooooood.

oh my god, and do you know what the best thing in the world is, and i can't believe i've forgotten about it, lo these 25 years? chocolate milk. chocolate milk rocks the casbah.

also, after multiple pieces of advice, i have decided against the extra big delia's pants and instead just dropped $200 on maternity wear via old navy and the gap. 3 pairs of pants, a dress, a skirt, and a few shirts should take care of matters. feeling much better than i did yesterday morning when, in a rush to get ready for work, i realized that my favorite jeans wouldn't button.

maybe telling too soon?

2009-09-07T10:21:00.000-07:00

but i'm rotten at secrets...

taken last wednesday, at 7 weeks and one day. due date, april 20, 2010.

we are still in a little bit of disbelief over here. we went to breakfast with the boy's mom yesterday and she looked at him from across the table and said, "dad". it nearly floored me. i can only barely acknowledge that this is happening inside of my body, let alone that in a few months, it will be happening to the world.

i am feeling tired and sick to my stomach, but not much throwing up. the medicine the dr. gave me for the nausea gave me such a monstrous headache (which i can now only take tylenol for. does tylenol help headaches? not mine...), that i will never ever ever take it again. instead, i am drinking ginger tea and eating water crackers and over-indulging in fruit. peaches, plums, pluots, prunes and, breaking the p cycle, grapes, raspberries and blueberries.

creepily enough, i think i'm attracted to these specific fruits, as all the literature i'm reading is comparing the baby at this point to those fruits. so far its been a blueberry and a raspberry. we're moving into grape territory this week, week 9.

for the most part, the grandparents are beside themselves, and smile all the time, and mark my dr.'s appointments on their calendars. i think its cute.

other new things:
i can smell things six blocks away.

i am thinking about a doula.

also, natural childbirth, no epidural, etc, if possible.

i am wondering if, instead of buying maternity pants, i can just order a few pairs of stretch corduroys in a couple sizes too big from delia's.

and yes, i'm telling too soon, at nine weeks instead of twelve, but i needed the outlet. everyone at work already knows, as last week was a rough one, and i thought i should come clean. on the horizon early next month are screening tests and an amnio, as i will be 35 in april. scary (both the tests and the fact that i will be 35 next year), but i am confident that everything is fine. please be confident for me, too.

yay!

p.s. to jackie: that was the reference to "counting days" last month. i couldn't tell you then! i was only counting days after a missed period!

oh, teddy.

2009-08-26T07:09:00.000-07:00

you were a giant. thank you. tell bobby and jack we say hello.

counting days

2009-08-12T10:47:00.001-07:00

i'm at 5.

on inglewood

2009-07-29T19:23:00.000-07:00

oh, this place.

so, let me tell you what happened. i was so tired on friday night. SO tired. i just got an assistant at work, and his first day was last thursday, and i had spent 2 days showing him around, spending two hours out in the sun in east la, etc. i was t i r e d.

so imagine how surprised i was when, while making the turn onto my street, i see a police officer standing in the middle of the road, yelling at me to turn around. then, i notice the helicopter. only then do i notice the 6 or 7 other police cars. huh.

so i turn around and park on our cross street, gather up all the work i brought home and prepare to trudge up my block.

but no. can't do that either. no driving on the street, no walking on the street. APPARENTLY, there was a stolen car high speed chase that came down our cross street, and careened down centinela, crashing into a car or four, before the driver got out of the car, ran across the alley, jumped a fence, and hid UNDERNEATH a house across the street from me. and had been there, by the time i was standing on the corner with all kinds of literature on teenage girls and their self esteem to read over the weekend, for an hour and a half.

not soon after, my neighbor ella tried to make the turn, and i ran up to meet her and explain. she and i and her dog shep went around the back way, and tried to approach from the other end of the street.

that officer, being a tad less antisocial, gave us the scoop, and told us to run into our houses, as there was a K9 unit loose, attempting to drag the man from underneath the house. and so we ran, and went into our houses, and pulled the blinds back to watch.

within a few minutes, you could see the police stuff someone into the car, and shortly thereafter, ALL of the neighbors were out, introductions were traded. Vague plans for a block party are now under way.

all was peaceful all weekend long.

until sunday night. when i remembered that my car was parked a block away, in a monday no parking zone. i looked for my keys to go move it.

and looked for my keys.
and looked for my keys.
and looked, and looked, and looked for my keys.

nowhere.

the boy found them, when he took it upon himself to go down the street and look in my car. there they were, right where i left them: in the ignition. all the doors? unlocked.

three theories, you pick your favorite:
#1. inglewood = not quite as dangerous as the haters may say.
#2. i was being protected with good energy.
#3. boy, oh boy, is my car a piece of crap.

disorganized

2009-07-14T21:23:00.000-07:00

back from a 5 day vacay to the central coast.
camera = full of photos.
cord to link camera to computer? who knows.
help.

ps: don't you love the sound of sonia's voice?

34 versus

2009-07-01T20:15:00.000-07:00

i just turned down a 30 pill bottle of vicodin, with 3 refills.

the 27 year old me wants her money back.

juuuuunne.

2009-06-29T17:16:00.000-07:00

the quiet ending to june 09 finds me in a blanket on the sofa at 5 pm, having spent my monday not at work but sleeping til noon, reading til 3, and doping around on the computer intermittingly. plus laundry.

somehow junes are always busy, and i am always broke. not sure how that happens. it used to be that augusts were depressing and novembers were strep throat. we have moved on, seemingly, to june vs. the bank account, or june; no time for sleep.

still, i am holding on to an optimism that good change is on its way. i feel on the precipice of many things. i feel at home in more than one place. there are moments at work, having finished something i thought i couldn't, that i almost don't recognize myself, until i do, and then feel rather proud to have made my acquaintance.

i did host a block party, or rather a park party, and realized that it wasn't at all what i had wanted to do. the block party i want to host involves saw horses at the end of a street, and picnic tables where cars would usually go, and kids and hopscotch and the like. maybe a jumper.

the park party i did host was 20 miles away from my own street, involved no saw horses, but 50 booths and east la businesses and non profits, and food, and 1200 people i had never met before.

however! when ever i do get to host my sawhorse/hopscotch blockparty, i did pick up some ideas to steal:
1. totally the jumper.
2. rock wall is pretty cool, too.
3. um, mariachi. do not sleep on the mariachi.

upcoming:
casino night fundraiser photos, grant writing?, raises?, summer!, and the story of the dog who ate a whole in the mattress.

for now: to finish the laundry.

i got a magic 8 ball, somewhere inside the house here, it gives me advice i think about too much...

2009-05-31T22:39:00.000-07:00

i sang a song to myself all day today, while laundering, while working, while walking, while eating tacos and then gelato. but i could only sing one line, and i couldn't remember what song it was, and so i went through my day, alternately singing, but sometimes hearing it in my head:
"sometimes you have to wait, so patiently"...

it was a reedy voice i heard, and it conjured up early portland for me; in the blue house on 39th street, when i had the blue room in front (not the pink room in back). we moved in september, i think, and i was in that room that fall. it rained a lot that fall, and i spent most of my time in one square mile, with that house in the center: work and home and the grocery and the bar and the breakfast place were all that close. so portland, and i wasn't used to it yet, so it wasn't something i took for granted. it snowed that winter, while i lived in that house, in that room, and i stayed up the whole night, sitting at the window, watching the cars whoosh down 39th, making tracks in the snow.

of course, it snowed other times in portland, but i think that was the first time for me and it was...other worldly, up at 4 am watching the street glow brighter than the moon. it was a winter of extremes: of a heady, not so secret, ill fated romance that sat on my skin all day long; of mix tapes, passed back and forth surreptitiously; of too many girls in a house painted too many colors; and of music, constantly, out at night, home in the morning, other people's voices in my ear.

all day today, i knew the song i heard was from then, and i couldn't place it. it was a song that was exclusively THEN. i knew i didn't have it now. which meant it wasn't elvis, it wasn't michael. but who? it was far too meandering for blake. not poppy enough for the minders. nowhere near the promise ring. but it was on that tape, that one passed back and forth: that boy would put one song on, and then give it to me to put another, too shy to say the words out loud, we left it to others, who sang of things 20 blocks away, who sang of kissing on the bus, who sang of waiting patiently, and things looking familiar, vaguely familiar. the tape that soundtracked my heart that fall, and winter, and spring. the tape my heart broke to later that summer.

and still i couldn't place it. twice i came near to crying today, hearing it in my head on repeat, taking me back to that cold blue room, and how that boy used to balance the mix tape on my front doorknob, knowing i'd be the one to find it.

an hour ago, showered and ready for bed, i googled it. and after a couple of tries, i found him:

how could i have forgotten him? he was the reason, really, i moved to portland. do you ever see him anymore?

rollercoasting

2009-05-29T23:42:00.001-07:00

things have been very busy, but also very productive, but also very hard. sometimes sad. often frustrating.

the other day, i heard or read or overheard someone describing adulthood as a trench. as in, "do it now before you get mired in the trenches of adulthood". last friday night, alone in my office, perhaps alone in my office building, at 10:30 p.m....i got it.

things i am currently crushing on: the sky in this rollercoaster photo, the classic series at barnes and noble (all under $8!), kissmyface ultra moisturizer in peach, and wayne coyne (perenially, but especially after making andy and valerie sit through the documentary last week).

things that frustrate me: my absolute inability to document.

things currently intriguing: the new edition of moveable feast, with new stuff, edited by ernest's grandson.

a thing that makes me proud: i am thisclose to finishing knitting my first lisa-sized sweater. will post photos, soon, but need to buy more yarn (running out of yarn and sleeping are the two things most responsible for still being only thisclose to finishing.)

am tired. next up: a pb&j, and a barnes and noble classic mystery (wilkie collins, woman in white)

low.

2009-04-01T21:12:00.000-07:00

a tad bit. perhaps its the oncoming spring?

wednesday night finds me recently migraining, currently watching bad bad television, knitting flowers. when all else fails, i can knit lots of flowers.

currently the computer is making the bad bad tv lose its reception. i don't understand how that works, the boy could explain it, but he's not here. anyway, guess what wins?

weeks pass, weeks pass.

2009-03-22T08:39:00.000-07:00

march, already, which seems to have come in like a lamb, and is now going out raining. and so, sunday morning, in my pjs and a sweater, listening to the sounds of the new dog squeaking his monkey toy, and the other dogs, grunting and playing, still half asleep.

on the horizon:
i am putting on a block party. so you can cross that off my to-do list. granted, its not MY block, but it is a block party, so there.

work is strange. don't know what more i can say about that now.

am going out to eat pastrami sandwiches today, with someone who has never had one, and thus wants one. now that i think about it, i don't think i've ever had a pastrami sandwich. and really, i'm fine with that.

in portland

2009-02-15T12:01:00.001-08:00

nicole is sick. i am sitting on her bed, she is texting on her phone, wrapped in blue. we are listening to destroyer.

welcome back, 2003, i missed you.

except i don't think no had a cell phone back then.

mrs. dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.

2009-02-12T14:46:00.000-08:00

tomorrow morning will begin a 8-day, three city birthday tour.

tomorrow: a lunch and a cocktail party. i shopped for the cocktail party this morning before work, and then stopped by the city hall farmer's market for $20 of ranunculus. walking through the downtown streets, damp from last night's rain, with the sun shining on my head, i felt quite woolfian, which yes, is a good way to feel.
and then...

saturday in portland.
tuesday in eugene and at the coast.
friday, back to portland.
and then saturday, back to california, solidly 34 years old.

7 to go.

2009-01-13T16:50:00.000-08:00

i never thought i'd live to see a bush-free white house. 8 years ago, i put a black cord around my wrist. i wish i could say that i'm looking forward to cutting the damn thing off, but i'm not that committed and lost it years ago.

but really. 7 more days and this whole 8 years is over and history. and bad history. 7 more days. 7 more days. i heard john kerry at hillary's confirmation this morning, and it was one of the first times in 4 years that i was able to hear his voice without wanting to cry. 7 more days until this country feels like home again.

hope is my favorite four letter word.

already january.

2009-01-04T19:58:00.000-08:00

hey, this is my third year here! whoppeee!.

i have a handful of resolutions this year (this resolution thing is new - i never used to do it, but the last two years i have been surprisingly successful, so who am i to turn down improvement?): to learn how to knit with a circular needle (really!), to learn how to play the piano, to leave the state (tickets booked!), to cook, photograph, and write more.

this is my effort. i am going to renew my flickr membership, and will attempt to post more here, as well as in the first real life journal that i've kept since 2004 (while it is not a blue lab book from the psu bookstore, it is blue...).

i am also attempting to master some technologies, i.e. my new phone and its bluetooth (which, actually, the boy is attempting to master for me right now). i have been tempting fate far too long talking on the phone surreptitiously in the car, and if i get one more moving violation, i may be in deep you know what. los angeles traffic police not being the most genial folk.

in the meantime, i have had a cold for 8 days, it is passing, but leaving a headache in its wake. more will come later, illustrated.

oh, PORTLAND PEEPS! i'm haunting your hood, including powells and clogsnmore, starting february 14th. come be my valentine!

can't seem to

2008-12-13T19:55:00.000-08:00

listen to a song through without crying. and i'm not sad. i don't know what it is. i blame nicole.

all fall down.

2008-11-15T19:55:00.000-08:00

there are ashes everywhere, and the sky is mauvey browny orangepink. it doesn't smell like fire, but i know its there, its made it so i can't see the sun. or the moon. no points of reference. just the ashes. things that were once on the ground have been melted into the air, and now they're falling back to the ground again.

sometimes metaphors aren't very sly at all.

2008-11-04T22:21:00.000-08:00

and tonight, i believe in america.

because yes, we can.

wait a minute,

2008-10-15T09:42:00.000-07:00

is that jake ryan?!

i wrote a letter to barack obama.

2008-10-11T21:20:00.000-07:00

actually, in reply to a letter he wrote me asking for money. here's what it said:

Dear Barack,

It's funny, just this morning as I was listening to NPR, I voiced a question to my boyfriend, who suggested that I write you. Serindipitous. But before my question, let me say:

I did watch the debates last night, and again was saddened by John McCain's failing to speak to me and people like me.

I am 33. I live in Los Angeles, where I was born and raised by a single mother, who came to this country when she was 5 years old. My entire education has been in the public school system, a system my mother believed in, not only for its price tag, but also that it promoted diversity in a city that can be very isolated along race and economic lines.

I put myself through college at Portland State University, having to wait until I was 24 to qualify for financial aid without reporting my parents' income (my father, who never contributed much of anything, money or otherwise, made a very large income that was prohibitive in my receiving loans and grants). I worked while I went to school, so it took me a little longer than some, and I graduated in August of 2005. I was 30.

Since moving back to Los Angeles, I've worked in the development offices of 2 non-profits, both working with foster youth, families at risk, and youth empowerment. This coming November, my benefits package will take effect, and I will have health insurance for the first time since I was dropped off my mother's coverage when I was 23.

That was TEN years ago. You bet you have my vote. I wish I could contribute money. I can't. What I have been doing, what I did on the bus ride into work this morning, was talk to my fellow citizens, ask questions, build community and, because today was special, gave away some Obama For President buttons that I purchased in August from moveon.org.

One of the major reasons I cannot contribute any more money than I already have is my student loan debt. It's over $350 a month. I make less than $35,000 a year, before taxes. I work for a non-profit. Every MINUTE of my work day is spent trying to solve problems the government can't, or won't, address. I take the bus to work. I use CFLs at home. I turn off lights when I leave the room and, Jimmy-Carter-style, put on a sweater before I turn on the heater.

Like I said, you have my vote, and I am working the streets to gather up some more for you. I know, and a lot of people around here seem to know, that you HEAR us. And feel like its been a long time since anyone has. So thank you.

Now my question: Last night, when Oliver stood up to ask his question about the "bail-out", John McCain corrected him and said "rescue plan". You went on to use the term "rescue plan" later, several times. Barack, I was an English major, and I have a problem here: "rescue plan" seems to imply that there was some sort of accident, an act of God, something unpredictable and of no one's fault, a banana peel under Wall Street's foot, and oops - broken. You and I, and millions of Americans know: not so. Please call it what it is: a bail out. And if some plan comes up to pull people out from under mortgages that they signed up for but knew they could not afford, please call it what it is: a bail out.

Otherwise, if we are going to launch rescue plans, please lets include everybody. I know a great big handful of people who work hard every day, in the community, in our schools and libraries, for our cities, for our citizens, who cannot afford their own apartment, let alone the fact that they will likely never own their own house, struggling as they are under loans that they took out (some from Fannie, mind you) to go to college. And though life would be much easier if I took me and my english degree and went to go work in advertising (at likely double my paycheck), that's not how I was raised.

I know you are doing, and have plans to do, everything you can for us. I can't wait to see you do it. But please, in the meantime, call things what they are, if for no other reason than for the people who are out here every day knowing full well no rescue plan is in OUR future.

I will continue to talk you up every single time I get the chance. I'm going to a meeting of the Westchester Democratic Committee tonight, at an IHOP on the corner of Manchester and Sepulveda. Sometime around 7:30 pm PST, listen for us, we're cheering you on.

Best,
Lisa Sorrentino