My mom is so nice, every time she sees me she goes on about how much weight I’ve lost. She’s lying, but it’s still very much appreciated. On Saturday she kept insisting, “No really! You don’t look pregnant at all, it’s amazing.”
Really? Then why did the lady at the donut shop think I was pregnant? The poor woman smiled that sugary smile and reached across the counter, patted my stomach and said “Ohh, are you–?”
Fat? Yes.
Edited to add: Yes, I still bought and ate the donuts.
The dishwasher is running. We’re ready to go over to Kevin’s parents’ RV park for a Thanksgiving meal that couldn’t be beat, but we have to wait for the bottles that are in the dishwasher. I’m in the bed room, and I can hear Nicolaus walking around the living room. He’s pretending to be some sea creature, I don’t know, I can’t keep up. The scenario changes hourly. Kevin’s on the couch, holding Graham sideways across his lap. He’s singing, “Will the Circle be Unbroken.”
He doesn’t know I can hear him singing. He has a beautiful voice, but he won’t sing in front of anyone… seems like a waste. Except what better use for a great voice than to rock a baby to sleep by holding him and singing Will the circle be unbroken, by and by Lord by and by…?
We aren’t religious, but that song is amazing.
My life is perfect.
Mouse is in the kitchen eating crumbs off the floor. It’s funny because he is being all careful and secretive in this really overdramatic way he has of being sneaky, making it clear that he thinks A) I don’t know he’s in there eating crumbs off the floor and B) if I did know, I would care. Did you think *I* wanted to clean those crumbs up? Which, I kind of am cleaning them up by not saying “MOUSE.” in that stern voice. Where did I get that stern voice? Not from my parents… any time they had to tell us not to do something, they always used this kind of apologetic tone. Sorry to kill your fun, we know it’s lame, but could you pleeeease stop playing baseball in the house? When you get a chance?
So yeah. It’s late, I’m tired, I’m using the dog to clean my house. Subcontracting. I wonder if there’s a way to save money by getting a dog in India to come eat crumbs off my kitchen floor?
This morning Kevin showed Nicolaus how to play hide and seek with the dog. You get a treat, show him that you have it, then tell him to STAY. God, he hates to stay. He quivers and shakes and looks like he might fly apart at any second while you go hide. Then you call him, and he takes off running so fast that he almost hurts himself. He dashes from room to room, wagging that skinny whip of a tail. Kevin calls him again to give him a hint. This can go on for ten or fifteen minutes until ventually I hear Kevin laugh and say, “Gooood BOY!!”
It took Nicolaus awhile to get the hang of it, but wow he loved that Mouse was playing a game with him. He’d come and get a treat from me, and then order Mouse to stay. We had to reinforce the Stay; Mouse doesn’t mind Nicolaus all that well. It’s easier to just steal the treat out of the toddler’s hand. But pretty soon they were totally playing hide and seek, in a show of cuteness that was almost beyond the visible spectrum.
I don’t know what was sadder: Nicolaus hiding in the exact same place every time thinking the dog wouldn’t be able to guess where he was… or the dog running around all over the house looking for him like it was a big mystery every dang time.
1. Nerdy ABCs
**Sorry, major plug here** Okay you guys. I’ve been printing these one at a time myself, and it’s killing me. So I found a printer willing to help me get these done in time to sell as Christmas gifts. The price he’s giving me will let me sell 5×7 sets for $45 and 8×10 sets for $60. Pretty please pass the link along to everyone you can think of who might be interested. My long-shot goal is to sell 50 sets by the end of the year – that would give me enough $ to fund a bigger bulk print order in January so I can start approaching educational stores and boutiques with them. The money I make with these and other artistic ventures will hopefully help us send Nicolaus to a fancypants Montessori preschool that ROCKS. Soooo if you’ve ever wanted to own a set of Nerdy Baby ABCs, now would be a beautiful time to order. If nothing else, please think good luck thoughts for me on my little home business here. Thank you so much!
Here they are – http://www.tiffanyard.com/nerd.htm
An hour and a half ago I took my first Zoloft. I spent all last week fretting about whether or not to try it. Fretting and fretting. Would I suffer horrible side effects? Was I succumbing to the latest medical fad, one that people would look back on a hundred years from now and shake their heads and sigh and say “Wow, if only people had known that antidepressents caused that long-term side effect, the end of Western Civilization probably could have been avoided.” Right? Like that medication that they gave women for morning sickness in the olden days that caused female babies to be born slightly more aggressive and more prone to demand the right to vote. Or something. I think I read somewhere that that really happened, but now I’m not sure.
I was fretting. Which makes me a total hypocrite – I’m the first one to advise people TAKE THE DRUGS. Why suffer? I say. And more importantly why make everyone else suffer while you inflict your depression/mania/OCD/social anxiety disorder/Tom Waitts obsession on them? But when it was my turn, and I had an OB telling me please take these drugs and my children’s pediatrican telling me in her 8-year-old voice to please please take these drugs, and my husband telling me please for the love of GOD think about taking the drugs, I suddenly thought of a hundred reasons why taking drugs of any kind is really a terrible idea. My body’s a temple! I thought, while shoving peanut butter cookies and pepperoni pizza into my temple. But really, what if I take the drugs and they don’t work? What if I take them and they do work and I suddenly realize that I’ve been imposing horrible musical taste on everyone I know? Or what if they make me happy but take away all my creative energy? Is it better to be a happy different person than a yucky same person with creative energy? And, OH MY GOD COULD I MAYBE go like fifteen seconds without getting spam?
So I was fretting and fretting and losing sleep thinking about whether or not to try the drugs and I was feeling so lost and upset and worried about everyone not liking me because of the drugs and suddenly I realized Wait! This is exactly the kind of crazy fretting everyone is worried about! Take the damned Zoloft Tiffany and shut up and go to sleep!
This morning I did it, I took the Zoloft. I’m not feeling better. In fact, I’m feeling light headed and very annoyed at everything, especially poor Mouse who keeps following me in front of me. Get out of my way! Is that a side effect? Not Mouse I mean, he does that all the time, but being so irritable and tense? If so, this drug is ridiculous bullshit. Either that or depression made me a nicer person, and now instead of being depressed because I think I’m a crappy mom I’ll be happy but I’ll actually BE a crappy mom.
I’m being silly of course. These things take weeks to work, and it’s only been an hour and a half. Well, no, closer to two hours because I had to stop writing to check my spam and to open a box of crayons and to change a grody pullup and to explain to Graham that sometimes mommies put babies in swings, no really, many babies love swings, they’re all the rage in Paris so how about we give this one a shot? For like ten minutes? Although just because something is all the rage in Paris doesn’t mean you should try it. If I ever see you setting a car on fire, you are in big trouble mister. But the swing… the French are really onto something with those baby swings.