i’m hopeful

I returned to the scene of the crime today. DH and I went back to the gym this afternoon and I took Bunny to the daycare room. When I dropped her off, there were no other babies there so I was able to talk tp the daycare worker. She remembered us from the other night and we talked a little about Bunny’s lack of experience with other kids. She assured me she’d look out for my girl…I felt better.

I only came by to check on her once and she was doing just fine. After a quickie 30 minute workout, we went to sign her out and the coolest thing happened—when we walked in she was sitting with the daycare worker and a little baby boy. They were sitting face to face, talking baby talk and patting each other on the head and face.  I realized at that moment that it was the first time she’d met another baby her own age.  She was smiling and happy—so of course I cried because I am a freakshow.

The point of my rambling is that in my head this was how I envisioned it.  I’d be getting some me-time, she’d be meeting new baby-friends and we’d all be happy. Today made me hopeful that it might all work out.

teardrops at the ymca

It sounds like a bad disco tune. Unfortunately, it was the case for me tonight as I left my Bunny with strangers for the first time in her seven months of life. It’s hard enough when I have to leave her with her daddy, but tonight was actually painful.

Ok, I started at the middle of the story—I do that too much. Here is the way things went: I asked for one thing for Valentine’s Day—a family membership to the YMCA. I have never seen such a nice Y! They have everything I need to take Operation Monster-Can to the next level. I didn’t even have to sell DH on it—he was all for it. We decided to go this afternoon. Everything was fine…we took the tour and I was stoked about getting started. The girl took us to the ChildWatch center and it was great, big kids separated from little kids and lots of staff who all seemed very nice.

(Enter anxiety here.)

We head out front to handle paperwork which takes all of five minutes—then, we take her to the daycare. As I am walking down the hall, I feel my heart pounding and my palms begin to sweat. I must have been squeezing Bunny because she let out a little grunt and gave me a look like, “Take it easy on the goods, Momma!” We walk in and you have to sign them in and there are stickers involved for security—not sure that is foolproof, but I am trying manage my trepidation.

I hand her over to the young girl (very young—is she CPR certified? What are her references?) and I take a step back. This is a first for us. I can feel my eyes welling up with tears and my face felt like I was in a tanning bed set on scorch. Bunny seems unfazed by the whole thing, sucking on her binky a la Maggie Simpson. I stay for a minute to see how she’ll respond to the other kids. They take her over to this little circle of kids and toys.

What is the first thing that happens? This turd of a little boy hits her in the head with a toy. There is a long pause…then, “MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” She cries. I cry. She quickly shakes it off—more quickly than me. My internal dialogue is so loud I swear everyone can hear it…**YELLING VOICE** WTF!? Why do they have the walkers in with the little babies? **calm voice* *I know she’ll be okay. I know it’s good for her to be around other kids since we stay home all day, every day. Remember to breathe, Melissa.

I had to keep checking on her. I am sure that the girls that work there think I am a complete spaz, but whatever. Millions of years of evolution can’t be undone because of what some high school girl might think of me. When I came by the first time—Bunny was by herself away from everyone playing with a toy and watching the other kids. It made me so sad to see her all alone there. I hope in her little baby brain she wasn’t feeling abandoned.  When I came back again, she was just starting to cry…workout over. That was fine with me. I wanted to snatch her up and run out of the place— I was feeling very Mama Bear.

She stayed with strangers for a total of 38 minutes. I check on her a total of three times. I think we did pretty well, all things considered.

say it with me now– productive

Oh my. I have been a busy bee the past couple of days.  Housework, Avon shit– you name it, it’s getting done. We’ve had a bit of a warm spell here and I think it has helped me to shake off my winter funk.  My bunny has been with me the whole way– she’s my business partner.  She’s the brains of the operation.

“I’ve got the brains, you’ve got the brawn. Let’s make lots of money.”  Yeah, that’s right.  I just got all Pet Shop Boys on your ass.  Believe that.

So, here I sit with my reward: a tall glass of sangria.  Let me tell you, it’s going down like buttah.  I have no complaints today.  It’s a good day.

a whole bunch of nothing

This weekend has been lazy and lovely. Friday, we went out for some amazing sushi with friends. We had Bunny with us—she was a gem as usual. I was really beginning to feel like an outcast until we hooked up with this couple (Dumbhead works with him). They are newly married and she is due to have a baby girl sometime in March. It just feels good to be with people who are in a similar place as you. It also feels good to eat a meal you didn’t cook…oh yeah, and Sake-bombs feel good too. Me likey.
We spent the rest of the weekend watching movies and napping; it was heaven. DH works so much and even when he is home, he is usually doing something for work on the computer. Sometimes I feel bad for him. Sometimes I feel guilty that I get to spend every waking minute with my girl and he only gets minutes a day.
There was no office work to be done this weekend and it was obvious that he wanted to take the reins with Bunny. I was happy to sit back and let him take care of her…as long as I could be in the room. It’s not that I don’t trust him, I just like to watch the way he does things. I have to admit that he gets the job done—it’s just different from the way I do it. I can say one thing for sure, the guy has enthusiasm and that goes a long way!
I am feeling peaceful tonight…it’s kinda nice.

ban the bling

The jewelry stores are on the attack and they are waging a campaign tantamount to the last month of an election year. Every five minute we are bombarded with these ridiculously sappy TV and radio commercials…

“Celebrate the journey of your love…for the low price of $1999.95”

If my husband bought me a Journey diamond necklace for Christmas I think I would punch him in the nuts. Really? Seriously? You think I want the same dorky piece of jewelry that every other wife is getting (because the marketing gods say we need it)?

I am far from anti-jewelry, believe you me! It’s just that I could think of a million other things that are cheap or FREE that I would want so much more. How about a coupon book of a foot-rub a month for a year?? Or a night out with the girls, or a spa day or a romantic massage…there’s a million things you could do.

Maybe I never noticed before, but Christmas is so damn commercial. WTF is up with the gift card situation?? You might as well just give the person cash and be done with it. We give gifts to show our love or appreciation….Well, this year I loved you fifty dollars worth.

It is an insult to the spirit of giving! I don’t need a gift card or an iPod to feel loved.

This is bullshit and I protest. No expensive gifts in our house. No going into hock to compete with others. To my friends and family, this year you get my love, a snapshot of my kid and the comfort of knowing we are finally being responsible with our money. And that is all we want from you in return

Dang it all to hell

I have been trying to work on this monster-can of mine for as long as I can remember. I still have 10-15lbs of baby weight to lose, then, I still need to go another 50lbs to be at my ideal BMI. Yeah right, and monkeys might fly out my butt. I’ll be happy if I can lose 50 altogether.

So, I’ve been watching the Biggest Loser and it gets me all fired up. I know that it has shameless product placement, but I don’t care. I wish it was on everyday so I could be reminded that I am not a human garbage disposal—I am a woman on a mission. I was doing so well with my diet today…and then I wasn’t  I hate it when I make it so far only to shit the bed in the last few hours of the day. I must do better tomorrow

tick tock

Is it possible that my girl is five months old today? Everyone tells you that the days go by so fast, but I never thought it could be like this. I feel so blessed that I can stay home with her—I don’t want to miss a thing. I know I will go back to work someday…that will be a sad day.

Lately, I have come to realize that nothing is gross when it is your own kid. I guess it is still gross, but it doesn’t ‘gross me out’—KWIM? I hunt for boogers, scrape poop-paste off of diapers (we do cloth)…nothing phases me. If we’re being honest here, I like the way my kid smells—even when she smells like bunny cheese. It’s all part of her so I can’t help but love it.

great success

I had an amazing visit with my mother. She was so heplful on the trip to and from Florida. I could not have done it without her.  I apologized for my behavior during her last visit; she laughed it off, as she does most things. I love that woman.

Yay for good timing!  Mom was able to got to Bunny’s 4 month check-up and was here for her first Halloween!  We had way more fun than the kids– now all of my neighbors think we are nuts.

 

whoa mama

My mom is coming tomorrow. I am 50% excited and 50% anxious (+/- 10% margin of error). She last saw my girl at only seven days old– she is a totally different kid now. She has a bag full of tricks that bring my joy everyday. I cannot wait to show her off.

Back to my mother…our last visit was three weeks long and went seriously downhill after the first week. I am hoping to avoid the tension this time. Sure, like that could actually happen. Ok– I am hoping to minimize the tension this time. I love her dearly, but she is retired and lives alone and as is common with her ilk, she has a plethora of idiosyncratic behaviors–all of which are nails on a chalkboard to me. There are the spontaneous bursts of singing and whistling–anytime/any where, the need to make up crazy words and act like she has always said them, her ability to say something inappropriate in any situation………there are so many others it makes my head spin.

I will miss these same things when she is gone and she will be gone before I know it. She will never fit into the mold I would make for her. In 30 years, my girl will bitch about me in her blog. I guess it is time to get over myself and appreciate my mom for who she is, not who I wish she would be.

In a nutshell…

Moving sucks rhinoceros testicles.

That is all.