26 January 2007

Another year

I turned 29 last weekend. Wasn't all that exciting, although I did get taken out for coffee and Jim got me the converse I wanted and we spent all our birthday money at Ikea that morning (which is all still in its boxes a week later...big brown flatpack boxes taking up a major chunk of the dining room floor). I don't really like birthdays. It's not a getting older thing, I actually look forward to my 30's. I've heard they're better than your 20's. It's the catch 22 of not liking to be the center of attention and then feeling bad when no one remembers it's my birthday. The people who matter know, and I don't go around like a 6 year old, telling everyone it's my birthday on Saturday and I'm so excited!!!!! So it shouldn't surprise me that when Jim waited till the last minute to invite people to come out for coffee with us, most couldn't make it. Most didn't know that it was my birthday, hence didn't know to ask Jim if anything was up before they made their Saturday plans. I did get a few cards, but there are some people (family on his side, mostly) that I would expect to at least call on my birthday, but I didn't get even that. These are people that Jim insists we go out of our way to make sure we get a card in the mail or even a gift to when it's their turn. I feel silly feeling this way, but it just irks me. I do my best to remember my friends and family's birthday. And while I may not remember the exact day of Karen's birthday, I know it's near St. Patrick's Day, so I always send my sweet friend a card on the early side. And she always sends me something too. And she's just a friend from college. We're not even related. Asking to be remembered on one's birthday doesn't seem like that huge a request. I don't know. It's not like I'm ever going to bring it up because I don't want to seem like I'm whining, not to mention I'd feel bad making these people feel bad for forgetting my birthday in the first place! Bah.

19 January 2007

Who am I?

I just bought new underwear. From Target. With a coupon.

17 January 2007

Things I learned today

First, Godiva makes sugar free chocolate. Rock on Godiva!!

Second, said sugar free chocolate is actually quite tasty.

Third, when combining said sugar free chocolate with a nice large decaf coffee, the results would make the roto-rooter man upchuck. Sorry. They aren't joking when they put that little warning on the back of sugar free stuff that says "Eating large quantities my induce a laxitive like effect."

Fourth, Godiva needs to package their sugar free chocolate in smaller chunks. I swear, I didn't think I ate enough to cause that much of a pain in my ass.

16 January 2007


Our email server is down at work, which explains why I can't open my web-mail or whatever it's called. Woohoo! Guess I can't work while Natalie naps...instead I guess I'll just have to curl up on the couch with some tea and a movie. Hm. Rough life, eh?

Actually, it hasn't been a all easy-peasy lately. Natalie had her first cold, and I know she's feeling MUCH better because she refused to nap all day yesterday as well as this morning. Fine. So instead of trying to force her down this morning, I just let her play, watch some Sesame Street, fed her lunch, and got her to sleep in about 4.3 seconds about an hour early for her afternoon nap. Fingers crossed she stays out for more than a half hour. We're going out tonight for Jim's birthday and she needs to be happy, alert, and pleasant, not the crankpot she was last night.

15 January 2007

Such a dork

We went downtown today because we had to get a gift card for Jim's birthday, which is tomorrow. Since it was a 70 degree day in January, Natalie and I walked around a bit. I went into Ulta, the Sephora for real people. Never been in there before, which is no surprise as I don't really wear makeup. Jim acutally got my mascara for Christmas as it had been so long since I wore mine, I had discovered it was all dried out when I went to put some on for his boss's Christmas party. I though Ulta wouldn't scare me quite like Sephora did. Boy, was I wrong.

I just wanted to get some foundation since I'm a little ruddy and pink in spots, and a little concealer since I have a blemish or two and gigantic dark circles under my eyes thanks to Natalie. I've never really figured foundation out, it tends to dry/crack on me, or not be quite the right color. But I'm too chicken to ask for help. Today was no different. I paced up and down aisles, hoping some kind soul of an employee would stop and sense my plight and offer help without a touch of judgement at this haggard looking me. Nope. So I left in a cold sweat. Couldn't admit my ignorance and ask for help.

I've never had my makeup done. I've always just kind of faked it. I'm really good at doing smokey eyes, which fortunately I can work, as my philosophy on eye liner and eye shadow is just to make both sides match. Hence frequently coming out a little heavy handed. No matter, I usually only wear makeup to big events, and never for everyday. This is an advantage of growing up in the North: I have no problem going to the groccery in my pyjama pants, and definately without my hair and makeup perfectly done. The problem is that I also have no issue with going to church, or work, or out with friends without makeup on.

There were times in both high school and college where I had to put some on in the morning. I wonder what made me like that and why I stopped. Oh well. Now, I can see how a little makeup would help me feel better about myself, just knowing that I'm going out not looking like a total train wreck, but at least like just a fender bender instead. And not for EVERY day, just for the days where there is something going on, even if it's just taking Natalie to playgroup or the doctor. But I know I need help, and I'm too self conscious to ask. I need someone to set me up at Utla for a private consultation, and then as soon as I'm done, be allowed to go home and wash my face immediately so no one makes a big deal about me being all made up. Yup, I am that much of a dork. Self esteem issues anyone? It's so bad, I'm typing this all hear because I'm too embarassed to even bring it up with my therapist. Fun times.

12 January 2007

What a difference a year makes...

It hit me today: One year ago, I was 72 months pregnant and in that uber-nesting phase but knowing that my showers weren't till the end of the month was driving me nuts, because I felt like I had no stuff for the baby, and it killed me to not go buy things because I knew I'd be getting a lot of gifts, which I did, including a crib, stroller, car seat, etc. Jim had just started a brand new job at a small pharmacutical firm, they were working him like a dog but he was enjoying the work and his co-workers and not missing the micro-management that was sucking out his soul at the job he left. Little did we know this great new job would fire him at the 90 day mark just for the hell of it, little did we know that the baby would come 16 days early, that i'd end up going back to work, that Jim would be a stay at home dad all summer, and that a year later he'd be in an even BETTER job, with better people and way more job security, that I'd be getting more freelance work than I almost know what to do with, and Natalie would be the love of our lives in so many ways.

On top of this, it also hit me that it's been two weeks since my zoloft dosage was upped. Hm, could that explain my sunny demeanor? The feeling of control in my life? The sense that I can handle things, that I am in charge of my diet, that the foods I'm not supposed to eat don't call my name from the pantry shelf anymore? If so, I need to go find those zoloft people and give them a big wet kiss.

09 January 2007

11 months

So so so very much going on these days. Partially your fault, Natalie, as you no longer sit still and are constantly on the move and some days decide that at the ripe old age of 11 months you are waaaay too much of a big girl to still nap. Partially, it's because your cousin's are here from Texas, meeting you in person for the first time, and loving you to pieces. You are enraptured with them, all their energy and excitement, smothering you with love and attention and so much joy that when they leave I'm dreading being stuck with your cranky self, who wonders why she's no longer up on a pedestal twenty four hours a day. Well, let me just drop the laundry and my work and forget about showering and fan you with palm fronds. But it's been great seeing them, I look at all of you and thing about what you'll be like together down the road, like being in each other's weddings, sharing in each other's lives when it's your turn to have your own kids, those sorts of things.

You are so close to walking it's scary. And I've caught you turning over the laundry basket and using it to try and climb up on the couch. This scares the shit out of me. You can stand by yourself, but you don't know it yet. If we catch you, we can get you to clap, where you let go with both hands, clap, and then realize "hey, aren't I supposed to be holding on?" and go back to clutching the coffee table for dear life. Walking is just around the corner, we know it. You are up to 6 teeth and I think you are working on numbers 7 and 8 based on the increased level of cranky in our house. And all your pants got too short over night, so I think to say you are growing could be an understatement. Your favorite food is mashed bananas, plain yougert, oatmeal and cinnamon mixed together. Other food, eh. You could take it or leave it. But this combo leaves you sitting in your high chair with your mouth open like a little bird, wanting more. I love it. If it didn't clog up your plumbing, I'd feed it to you every day. Sadly, I think tomorrow you are going to have to have some prunes.

I love you my sweet little one.