Graduation Day for Baby O

Holy boring work day! I have read and reread all the blogs and now am sinking low enough to blog myself. I am getting paid right now to do something entirely different than what I am doing. I really try to avoid doing this. It feels so wrong, but see. I am already less bored than I was a minute ago.

Baby O is baby no more. My girl is 1 year old! She turned a year on April 20th. Remember?? I went into labor on Passover last year.

O is amazing. Despite the daily abuse (hitting, hair pulling, knocking over and even pinching) at the hands of her only brother, the girl appears to be thriving. She even acts like her brother is the coolest thing since sliced bread. She is a pistol. Every time I worry about some horrible mother/daughter angsty thing because she already seems so strong willed, I have to remember that I love her strength and her confidence. I never want her to feel bad for those aspects of her personality.

Nothing else is new. Which is great. I am so proud of us (reaching hand over shoulder to pat back) for getting through the first year. It was touch a go for the first few months. Seriously? What was wrong with us? I mean, I have friends who had babies in similar age difference who didn't go insane for 4 months. I used to think that everyone was just lying if they said that thing of "actually, it's been ok!" But I have had enough people look at me like I am a little certifiable when I say "Isn't it SO hard?? You are in hell. It will get better, don’t worry!" that I have learned to keep my mouth shut. For me it was just the sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. As one friend said, "I thought my marriage was based on similar values and love and friendship and partnership. But it turns out it's all based on sleep. Good marriage if we all sleep. Bad marriage if we don't." I wouldn't go that far, but I would say that all of us sleeping through the night is a very good thing.

I'm sure I'll have some selfish anxiety freakout to post soon, but I am glad that I have nothing more to say today than: Will this work day ever end?!!

NY State of Mind

That last post never got finished, because, in spite of the disturbing nature of the few sentences I wrote, I did actually have to stop what I was writing to go parent.

We are in NY for Passover and Easter. We leave tomorrow. I love being here and seeing family. I love the city--it is so vibrant and fun to be in again. I love Connecticut, where we had Easter today with its big houses and windy roads. I love seeing cousins and siblings and nieces and nephews. I always start out our East coast trips totally energized and nostalgic, wondering why we live so far away. But inevitably I move towards being glad we don't live here all the time. The city is hard and Connecticut is snobby.

The husband and I had a lot of help with the kids this trip. We stole away for a walk to the scene of our wedding 5 years ago in Central Park. It was so beautiful out, and a couple was actually getting married in the same spot in the same garden we were married in! We totally told them afterwards. They seemed like they didn’t mind. One night we went out to dinner with friends, and the energy of a NY restaurant--small, crowded, intimate and exciting—I actually felt like I was in my 20’s again.

But I have turned into a California girl. This time the main thing that bugged me was all of our inside time. It seems like people have trouble getting themselves outside here. It’s as if all the barriers to get outside--the apartment door, the hallway, the elevator, the building hallway and finally! Outside. It is too many or something. Sometimes I even felt myself thinking I'd like to get outside and dismissed the idea in the same thought because it seemed like a hassle.

So. Once again, I find myself looking forward to getting the kids home to our little house and our big dog where I can open the door to my back deck and breathe the not too cold air.

Happy Easter and Passover! I feel so fat.

One funny totally unrelated story:

The husband returned home from work the other day wearing a suit, which he rarely does. As he took off his work duds and flung them around the room, Q played and chatted with us. A while later, Q said he wanted “Barack Obama’s scarf.” I was curious, since I had no idea what he was talking about. He then ran to the dresser where the husband had left his blue and white tie and threw it around his neck chanting “Barack Obama’s scarf!!”

Is Brack Obama the only one he's seen in a suit??

The Post that Never was Finished....

What am I doing right now? The husband is working late. Two kids are by themselves in the other room. I am here, by myself, drinking a beer....