What brings you here?

Sometimes I am entertained by the smallest, silliest things. Here are a few of the latest searches that brought people to my site: “i dont like adjectives”, “ass boy”, “See you in Canada”, “how to have a good time grocery shopping”, and “grouper throats”. I thought maybe I’d address a few, as if that person typing from their undisclosed location were actually asking me about these topics.

I don’t know why or how you could dislike adjectives. I could see adverbs, because they’re all pretty similar and annoying to boot, but adjectives open up a whole new realm of descriptive language! The key to having a good time while grocery shopping is to go to the mini fridge section by the registers and get yourself a bottle of your favorite soda. Then stop by the candy section and, if your store is like my Publix, drop a dime in the little good faith box and get yourself a piece of candy. Now, get all the boring foodstuffs in your cart first and save the fun things for last, like picking the perfect bunch of bananas and finding a really meaty steak. Take your time, enjoy being out of the house. Grouper throats are particularly tender and have a sweeter taste than the rest of the fish. If you can get past the fact that you have to hold the fin and it still looks like a fish, than you’re golden.

Ok, that was pretty fun. I did a lot of laundry today, made lunch, and a dessert, and all the while watched football. Somehow I don’t feel like I accomplished a lot, even though I know that’s hogwash. Maybe it’s this whole days getting shorter thing that’s making me semi-depressed. I think I need a new hobby.

A grab bag of emotions

Any of the postpartum emotional craziness has passed now. Really. I don’t feel the urge to break into inconsolable sobs every time the sun goes down or when Elly cries for more than 5 seconds. I don’t change a diaper and feel overwhelmed. I don’t have feelings of hurting my baby.

What I do have is the same issue that I’ve had for a while now: there so many people that I have gotten to know in all different capacities but I call no one a best friend, or even a close friend. I don’t have someone I can call up and invite to lunch or coffee. I try, and sometimes it works. I went to the dog park right before school started with a girl I know who recently came back to FSU. I’ve stopped by my summer job to see the people I had become so close to in only 3 months time. I used to have coffee with the former front desk girl but even she has sort of disappeared into oblivion.

My problem, I think, is that with most people, I fear the next step. I fear actually asking them to do something. Perhaps it is fear of rejection. I had some roommates early in college whom I thought were my good, close friends. I mean, we shared a lot of moments. But when it came right down to it, they were selfish and backstabbing, and malicious. We ended up drifting apart on account of my then-boyfriend, now-husband. And I think that’s really sad because despite all their flaws, I still would have stayed friends with them. Because – and not to toot my own horn – I’m a very loyal person. Heck, my loyalty is why I always end up staying in low-paying jobs where I love the people.

With these breastfeeding support groups, I am out there, actively seeking out friendships. I am talking to new people and trying to be as open to possibility. It seems like I’m getting better but there are still reservations and I don’t know why. How does one solve this problem? I guess it takes time and effort… time and effort…

Latest guilty pleasures – list style

  • Sneaking sips of Mountain Dew. We bought it for our friend who comes to watch football with us but I steal a bit here and there
  • Butterscotch morsels. I bought them for a cookie recipe I was going to make but my ridiculous postpartum sweet tooth makes me down them by the handful
  • Watching ER and crying at the end. I also make sure to turn off the TV immediately after as to not ruin the moment of zen
  • Watching Rock of Love on VH1. I hope Jes wins only because Heather is kind of trashy and I kind of don’t trust her
  • Looking forward to I Love New York pt. 2. Why must they do this to me? I get so reeled into these shows!
  • Buying and reading all the Fall/Halloween issues of magazines such as Woman’s Day, Redbook, and (gasp!) Martha Stewart’s Living. This is what I have come to. I blame the whole stay at home thing
  • Taking long (ok, 1-2 hour) luxurious naps in the nursery recliner in the afternoon sun.

Don’t you wish you too could stay home with an infant? Nah, probably not.

Against my husband’s wishes, I’ve been doing some work-related things this morning. There’s no one else to do it (or who’s going to do it, rather) so you know, I’d rather it get done by me without pay than not get done at all. So I am taking a minute to babble about the things I wish we had in Tallahassee. This stems mostly from a.) my lack of spendable money and b.) due to the fact that I haven’t got the money to spend, I keep having images of the mall flash before my subconscious.

1.) Ikea – I could spend hours in one of these stores and not even spend that much. But by god, they have some awesome stuff there


2.) Trader Joe’s – We have a decent co-op place and a Fresh Market but no Whole Foods and certainly no Trader Joe’s. I think it’s Florida; we scare away these kinds of places.5_traderjoesexterior.jpg

3.) Babies R Us – I talked about this around June or July when we had to trek to Jacksonville to buy our nursery furniture. We have a lame-ass Toys R Us here but if their sister store came and built a combined building, well, I’d have significantly less money and a lot more baby crap.


4.) Lush – my sister works at the one in the Orlando airport and I only get to use their products when she sends me some.


5.) A shopping center much like Winter Park Village:


The best part is that we’re actually getting one in about 2 years or so. It is supposed to be ginormous with a new stadium seating movie theater and many designer and specialty shops. This might mean we’d get some of the things I want. And, you know, when I get a higher paying job, I can go splurge on this stuff. For now, I’m going to send money to the AT&T, the gas company, and Geico. And then I’m going to eat a frozen dinner.

New mom confessions

  • At two in the morning, I can only think about how much I want him to eat quickly so I can go back to sleep. And I feel badly for feeling like I don’t want to have patience with him.
  • I consider myself reasonably intelligent but when it’s three PM and he’s wide awake, what do I do with him? I feel like I should keep him awake so he might sleep longer at night but he’s not exactly responsive in the way an older child is. What do you do with a one month old baby to entertain them?
  • I had a latte. It doesn’t see to affect his feeding any but so many breastfeeding advocates would have my head over that.
  • I haven’t actually bathed my child yet. He’s had little wash cloth cleanings but we don’t do the two to three times a week as books suggest. We’re bad parents.

Ok, that’s all I can think of for now because I just had to get those out there. My brain has turned slightly mushy now, much like that pear you so desperately wanted to eat but it went ripe then bad in a manner of 5 seconds while sitting on the counter. Yeah, if you got THAT reference, there’s a box of cookies in the mail directly on their way to your door.

I managed to get out today for lunch, because an old friend was in town. It’s nice to get outside these days and see, oh I don’t know, the sun, trees, breathe fresh air.  Ok, so it’s not that bad. Whenever I get the chance, I do go to the grocery store. It’s my refuge I tell you. It serves two purposes: relinquishing me from baby/dog duty and making me feel useful in that I’m purchasing foodstuffs for us – something NOT for little one. I know that sounds awfully selfish but when your entire day consists of doing for and thinking about him, well, you tend to glom onto whatever there is that can be considered for YOURSELF.  Naps do this as well but I feel guilty when I sleep. I am sure there’s something else that I could be doing. That’s when I play Scrabble online or read magazines.

Alas, baby is shrieking like some little monkey and I take that as a signal for ” I’m bored and sick of looking at sea creatures in my crib. Please send help, and breast milk.”

Saturdays, grocery stores

I don’t know why I ever thought that the store would be less crowded if I went early Saturday morning. I must have temporarily forgotten that’s when all the old people go, especially women in their Jazzy wheelchairs who block aisles and take no one into consideration when racing around your cart, knocking you back against the oven-ready lasagna noodles. Which I did purchase, by the way, because that’s what I am making for dinner. We are entertaining tonight and I feel like lasagna is a good dish for that. Most people like it and it serves a ton. Plus, mine is a lot better than the recipe on the back of the box because I make my own sauce instead of slathering it with Ragu. *Hork*.

Before I got up and headed to said store, I realized that time as I knew it will never be the same. I was up with Elliot around 5:30, he fed well, then fell back to sleep until something like 7:30 when he wasn’t really hungry, but wanted to be held. So Ash did that for a while and I got a few more minutes of sleep. Before pregnancy, before the kid, I’d get up around 7 and start puttering around the house. I’d clean, check email, watch a few minutes of Sports Center or the Weather Channel, eat cereal, clean something else, write some, watch some more TV, then take a shower. Usually by that time, Ash would be up and we’d go out to lunch somewhere. Alas, this is so not our routine anymore.

However, we did go to Outback last night. I think we got there around 8:20 and Elliot slept peacefully in his car seat the whole time and Ash and I got to actually enjoy our food and each other. In fact, we spoke of baby names, you know, for that next kid who is still just a sparkle in our eyes. I really want to name him (if it’s a him) Emmet. Or Emmett. Or Emmit. Either way, I think it’s a great name but Ash has a problem with it being juxtaposed with Smith. Because he absolutely hates that football player. Ugh! So if it weren’t for our last name, I could do it. Sigh. I would also like to name a potential him after my grandfather but then you have Robert Smith. Not only is it the lead singer of The Cure but it’s also pretty boring. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the future brings.

Support your breasts

The past two days, I have gone to a couple breastfeeding support groups. I was reluctant at first simply because we’re not really having any problems (if you don’t count last night where he screamed and cried after an hour long feeding, ate some more and then spit it all up, all over my shorts). But in the Grand Scheme, I don’t have sore nipples or a kid who won’t eat or can’t latch on, etc. But I wanted to get out and meet people, so that’s what I did.

The first group was… not necessarily organized the way I thought it would be. What it really is, is a large brightly colored room with mostly uncomfortable desk chairs, two squishy armchairs, and one big couch, where moms sit around feeding their babies and chatting. It’s pretty much every man’s dream as there are more boobs than any man’s eyes could handle. I chose not to feed on day one since Elliot wasn’t hungry and it’s only an hour, he can make it. But I did strike up a conversation with the girl next to me and that was pretty good. What I did get out of that group was some info on their upcoming breast cancer 5k I now plan on participating in.

The second group, which meets Tuesday and Thursday, is run by the woman who taught my childbirth class. She has a guest come in each day and they talk about different things. Yesterday the woman tried to sell us on baby wearing which I am not really against… I just don’t believe that if you don’t have your child next to you 24/7 that they will grow up to have problems. Think of all the children of your generation whose parents let them cry it out sometimes; some of them turned out ok, right?

But anyway, I’ll probably keep going to the meetings just to have something to do, some place to go where it’s ok if your baby cries. Plus, I might actually meet some new friends. Wouldn’t that be nice?

The way we love

new!, originally uploaded by Allstarme.

From an article on attachment parenting by Dr. Sears:

“A new mother usually strokes her baby’s entire body with a gentle caress of her fingertips; the father, however, often places an entire hand on his baby’s head, as if symbolizing his commitment to protect the life he has fathered.”

Just thought I would share.

Idiot box

There are very few television shows that, as an adult, I can say I truly like. (I disclaimed with “adult” since as a kid, tv is like a god and you watch it without thinking). The stations are saturated these days with skeezy reality shows where the ultimate goal involves either obscene amounts of money or cheating on your significant other. And we certainly don’t need another crime drama; you feel me, OMG they’re everywhere! (And what is with that Numb3rs show? Numb three R’s we call it).

But I can say that two shows really stand out in my mind as works of brilliance.  In the drama department, ER is truly a great accomplishment. Recent episodes are starting to wain, however, since all original writers have jumped ship but in its day, that show was amazing. I can honestly say that almost every episode I watch leaves me crying or at least emotionally drained by the time the credits roll. It was far more dynamic than any soap opera and I think it was usually well cast. I worried when George left because really, he was one of their defining factors for popularity but the show managed to keep its quality even still.

In the sitcom department Friends remains one of the funniest, most realistic and smartest shows I’ve ever seen. When it was new, I didn’t want to watch it because everyone was all about it and at that time in my life, my major goal was to against the grain. In college, we started watching old episodes and once the DVDs started coming out, we went through a season in two nights, back to back episodes and a lot of soda and frozen pizza into the wee morning hours. I really think this show remains one of the funniest ever. You know you love a show when you incorporate the lives of television characters into your everyday banter with friends. I could probably recite half the episodes to you. Sick, you know?

Since I have been homebound with the little one, TV has become old reliable during his naptimes. Before, my total weekly viewing hours totaled maybe three or four. Now I’m hitting probably 15 to 20. I don’t want to watch this much television. It’s mindless and makes time pass quickly and before you know it, you’ve done absolutely nothing productive. What do you think about TV, people? Good, bad, neutral?

Of backhoes and sewers

The City has decided that we need new updated sewer lines. This means about seven trucks of various sizes and engine decibel levels have invaded the half block from my house to the end of the street. Well, at least that’s where they are for now – it’s a 3-4 week project according to the flier they put ON THE MAILBOX IN A RAINSTORM. We pieced it together and found this all out. They started last Friday. They begin at 8 AM, jackhammering about a six by six square in the road where they connect to the main. Then they destroy a corner of everyone’s lot – be it grass or driveway – and put in the new line. Then they pack the destruction full of red clay and tamp it down. I sure as hell hope they plan on coming back through and returning each little area back to its original form. I’m going to be a pretty unhappy camper if they don’t.

According to the notice, they have asked us to please refrain from using the sewer services while they work on our home. I assume this means not to take a dump for an entire day or two while they’ve got things ripped up. Um, are they going to provide me a port-o-potty in the meantime? I don’t think so. And I’ll continue to use my commode, thanks.