Thursday, August 30, 2007
Can I get a holla?!?!
Plans are in full swing. The invitations are still sitting on my desk, but we won’t talk about that.
We are having a tiny beach wedding. I am expecting about 25 people as a high estimate. Everyone will be barefoot, and they will be sitting on beach chairs or towels. We are having a barbecue for the reception, and my dad will be performing the ceremony. I plan to ask both my parents to walk me down the aisle.
With the exception of my two best friends(who I understand can’t make it, and it is ok, I promise, it really is, you two better just give me one kickin’ bachelorette party), everyone I love will be there.
I promise to post lots and lots of pictures. For now, here are a couple of my angel baby to tide you over.
I can’t wait!
"You got out the camera, Ma, you must deal with the hammy consequences!!!"
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
It has been a while since a deep midnight discussion did not result in me crying or Jason getting frustrated, because PPD will do that to a person. Last night, though, was sweet. We were both serious; the joke-cracking was minimal, which is a large feat in our house.
Jason is a recovering Meth addict. He has been sober for a long time now, more than five years; however, anyone who has ever had contact with addictions can tell you that the fight never ends - you are never “healed”. Meth has a 6-7% rehab success rate, which means that 93% of people who become addicted will never be clean.
Jason didn’t just wake up one day and decide he was going to stop. There was a long climb back to Sober, and it took years. He went through horrors that I will never be able to fathom, and he came out on the other side.
By the time I met him, he had been clean for a couple of years. He has worked his way up to middle class, earning everything he has. He is the most devoted father I have ever met; his life circulates around his partner and his child. If you passed him on the street or met him in line at the supermarket, you would never be able to see the shadows in his past.
He is my hero. He is my rock. He knows strengths I hope to god I will never have to find. Occasionally, in the dark of night, he will tell me I am more than he deserves.
I really think it is the other way around.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
This. Is. Hard.
Not because I have something I am too embarrassed about, or because I want everyone to think I am the perfect mom.
The truth is, we have been pretty liberal in our parenting style. She learned to play on her own early on, she is HIGHLY independent (and thusly stubborn), and she is super active. We parent by instinct; we have tossed out information gleaned from all kinds of parenting manuals, everything from The Happiest Toddler on the Block to Baby Sign Language. (Note: I have NO PROBLEM with any of these manuals. They just didn’t work for me, Violet, and Jason. Every Family and Child is different, and I applaud those who find manuals that work for them. Thank you. *cue music and public service announcement logo*) Anyways, that usually means a lot of stuff we consider normal falls short of the ModernMommyMark.
So, un-mommy-like things I may have done this week would include…
- Trimming Jason’s Mohawk
- Making Violet dance to Journey
- Trying to teach her that “L” on the forehead means “Daddy”
- Walking my daughter through the Halloween aisle at Michael’s so she can see all the scary decorations, which she loved
- Feeding Violet curry
- Letting her stack dvd cases into different piles, since I still haven’t bought her any blocks
- Watching Scrubs while we ate dinner (Scrubs has been Violet’s favorite non-handy-man-or-blue-dog show since birth. Yes, we let her watch TV.)
- Um, we let Violet watch TV
So, there you have it. A partial list of my failings as a mother.
Good thing I am fabulous.
yep. yep, that is chips and salsa I am letting my 1-year-old eat, all by herself. maybe I should add that to the list...
Monday, August 27, 2007
Luckily, I adore the fall. I adore the orange palette, the crisp air, the pumpkins and the gourds, the crisp rustle of dried leaves across the sidewalk.
Whenever I imagine my dream home, I picture it in October. The street is canopied with the same orange and yellow leaves that blanket the front yards. There is a hint of smoke in the air from some neighbor burning his share. There are jack-o-lanterns on the stoops, decorated by the children running wild around the block, savoring the sweet freedom of that space after school ends and before dinner is called.
In my current home, we refer to it as the beginning of “decorative towel season”, those months when the towels hanging from the oven door and the rack in the guest bath are only to be touched in case of dire emergency. (read: in the span of time it takes to get from the closet and back, blood loss will result in death.)
This fall, there are a lot of things to look forward to. I will officially be a married woman by mid-October. My daughter is gorgeous and smart and huge; this will be her first real interactive Halloween. This is also the first year we have not been living paycheck to paycheck, hoping fervently that we will have enough money to get groceries. I am not entirely used to it yet, but I am having fun in the meantime.
So, here is to the new season. I hope yours is as good as I intend mine to be.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Rebecca: Did you know that you are the cutest girl in the whole world?
Getting Violet ready for "school" in the morning is my favorite time of day. My princess is a morning baby, always has been. She gets up with a sleepy happy huge grin on her face, and starts babbling, reaching for her clothes, leaning out my arms to shut off her light on the way to my room.
When we get there, I put her in the bed with Jason, where she crawls up and lays on his pillow-the only way I have found that wakes him up in a good mood. (well, the only pg-rated way.) She lays there with him and they chat while I change her diapers and get her dressed. I comb her hair and put it up, then she is off to explore my closet, my make-up, her toy basket until daddy puts her shoes on.
Jason takes her to daycare. As I head out ahead of them, I ask for mama kisses, and she obliges with a loud "MMWWA!" She waves bye bye and blows me kisses until she can't see me anymore.
How did I ever live without her?
Monday, August 20, 2007
As with all things, we must take it in moderation.
Trapeze necklines are huge, enormous, voluminous this season. Though you will be walking through the store, say Old Navy, and be tempted by something like this, resist!
Old Navy does do some things right, though, such as this little number that I just ADORE. Great saturated color, great shape, kimono sleeves and single large button: this is the epitome of this season. Feel free to drool along. I got this sweater in grey and oh my god, this is the most comfortable shirt in my current wardrobe. Buy it. Wear it. Love it.
Live in a warmer climate, but still yearning for the yellow and brown color palette of the fall? Try this adorable shirt from SWAKdesigns.com…
Friday, August 17, 2007
Hi, my name is: Rebecca
but u can call me: Fab-U-lous!! Just kidding. How about Becca?
Never in my life have I: gotten paid for something i loved. It is always just jobs that can support my non-paying hobbies.
The one person who can drive me nuts is: Jason
Second place goes to: my brother
My high school was: Canadian
When I’m nervous: I chew on my hair. i know, gross. and possibly damaging to my lovely head of gorgeous hair.
The last song I listened to was: I Have a Theory from the Buffy Musical Soundtrack.
If I were to get married right now, my maid of honor would be: Both of my sisters. Who actually are my maids of honour for my upcoming nuptials.
My hair is: bobbed and dark brown with gold streaks. will be changing again soon.
When I was 4: I was reading at a 2nd grade level.
Last Christmas: I was sad. I wasn't diagnosed with PPD until late January.
I should be: working.
When I look down I see: My toenails. Which are painted Sinful Apple.
The happiest recent event was: Violet saying "kica" (kitty cat) then "eeow" (meow)
If I were a character on ‘Friends’ I’d be: slightly neurotic but ultimately cool,living in a rent controlled apartment and surrounded by other neurotic but ultimately cool city dwellers.
By this time next year: I'd like to have my real estate license.
My current gripe is: my wisdom teeth are trying to break free on the bottom...
I have a hard time understanding: computer games.
If I won an award, the first person I would tell would be: Jason
I want to buy: a house. and a ford focus 5 door. and a closet organizer. and so many clothes it could choke a donkey.
If you visited the place I was born: you would hear banjo music and squealing pigs.
Where do you plan to visit: my mom's.
If you spent the night at my house: you would stay up all night watching some of our vast dvd collection and drinking wine, then get up noonish for a lovely homemade breakfast feast. but you would have to sleep on an air mattress in the baby's room.
The world could do without: haters
Most recent thing I’ve bought myself: hair bleach. And smokey gray eyeliner.
Most recent thing someone else bought me: Jason bought me cheesy tots. does that count?
Out of my friends, my favorite blonde is: TIE! Not my fault both best friends have blonde hair. so it is Jen and Alison. Jalison.
My favorite brunette is: my sister Bethany.
My favorite black hair is: My sister Mandie.
My favorite red head is: My Ma
My middle name is: Lynn. Same as my mother and my daughter.
In the morning I: am going to watch cartoons with my daughter.
Last night I was:not sleeping cause i was mentally planning my wedding.
The most important thing to me: My family.
If I was an animal I’d be a:(n) elephant. Laid back and takin' it easy.
A better name for me would be: Diva
Tomorrow I am: going shopping with Jen and her Hayden and my Violet...we luuuuv to shop...
Tonight I am: Cleaning with Jason, maybe watching a movie, mooning over my beautiful child...
My birthday is: February 1st. And i am SUCH an aquarius.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
I think airlines are behind America's driving need to be thin.
No, seriously, hear me out.
OK, on order to fit comfortably in an airline seat anymore, you must be under a certain size that i myself have not seen since i was about 5 months pregnant. The seats are this small so that the airline can fit more people on the plane. Thereby making it more money.
A couple of years ago, I got upgraded to first class. I got a hot breakfast, complete with fruit, eggs, roasted potatoes and beverage of my choice. Now, you are lucky to get a packet with crackers and spread cheese. And that is only on long flights. Thereby saving the airlines money.
In order to get onto the plane, you must either a) walk down a 2 mile walkway into the hobbit hole they call an airplane door, or b) walk up a NAAAROOOW rickety little rolling ladder to same said hobbit hole. The point being that you have to be at least a little athletic to get into the damn plane in the first place. Thereby making you a smaller person once you are on the plane, one they do not need to provide snacks nor large seating for.
OK, maybe that was stretching it a bit.
What can I say? It's just a theory.
Monday, August 13, 2007
I am a lucky, lucky girl.
I have the most wonderful, beautiful, funny, smart man. I worship him.
Jason is a smart ass. If there is a sarcastic comment to be made, he will make it. It is funny, even if it is directed at me. (Though I have to pretend to be totally pissed off. You know, to save face.)
He has hazel eyes. They are sunken, bedroom eyes. In the morning, they are wide and terribly innocent. By night, they are hooded and intimate. They are framed by straight eyebrows that go up in the middle when he puts on his sad-puppy face. I always have to give in at that point.
He is tall, 7 inches taller than me, but you cannot tell because he slouches. His shoulders hunch forward to accommodate for a curved spine; though this should make him look like Quasimodo, he looks instead like James Dean.
He is ropey. Skinny, but with sinewy muscles right under his skin. His body is covered with scars from the lifetime he lived before me. I barely notice them anymore, but when I do - I love them. They tell the story of Jason.
He is sensitive. He cried at The Notebook, at the Bridge to Terebithia, and when Violet was born. He snuggles better than anyone and always holds my hand in public.
He is smart. He is smarter than I am. He gets all my geeky jokes. That may be on the reasons I love him most.
I love everything about him, though. I love the way he eats cereal when he is sick. I love the way he gave me a nickname no one else had ever come up with. I love how he does dishes and cooks and changes diapers without ever insinuating that it is woman's work. I love how he watches HGTV incessantly. I love how he loves animals more than he loves the average human. I love how spoils me and lets me have a clothing allowance even though there is no Jason allowance in the budget.
I love how he loves me. I love how he brings the fan to me every night because I always forget. I love how he goes to the store to pickup flour for me, even though he doesn't want to. I love how he is helping me plan a wedding he doesn't think is necessary because in his head we are already partners for life, but he is still printing invitations and sticking labels and looking at 42,000 dresses.
I love how he is totally committed to me and how there is no part of him that wants any other woman.
I love him because without him, I am just Rebecca. With him, I am Reka the girlfriend, mother, friend, confidante, lover, partner in crime, and so many other things I am still discovering.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Thursday, August 9, 2007
For a girl from the poor part of Kentucky (read: rilly rilly po'), Old Navy was glamour for me. Jeans long enough to fit my legs (i am like, 30 % torso and 70 % leg), with lots of different washes, and $30.00 a pair?!? Kinda pricey, but worth it. :)
But this weekend...I found a new love.
His name is Z. Cavaricci.
His jeans are like butter. Seriously. So comfortable, it is like wearing sweatpants. So cute, I have no qualms about wearing my "I brought sexy back" t-shirt. Trendy, but still classic enough to last through a few seasons. I want to talk about them ALL THE TIME. Jason says I need to stop.
They were $52 a pair.
More than half my monthly clothing allowance.
I don't care.
If you go by use, they will more than pay for themselves. Within a month, I bet.
Anyhow, enough of that. Onto the next!
While I was in the mall buying the jeans to end all jeans, Jason was watching Violet. Watching her run out of the store and down the center of the mall, then taking off after her. She found her way onto the runway of the Baby Gap fashion show that was going on, over to the kids coloring station, then back to the store. With Jason tailing after her the whole time.
We decided...it is time for a leash.
Yesterday, while researching them online, Jason came across this little gem.
The thing is, lady, that my kid has freedom and independence coming out the wazoo. She is smart. She explores. She solves problems when she comes across them. All with a highly-involved mother and father cheering her on the whole way. We encourage her to go on adventures. We wouldn't do anything to squelch her inquisitive, hyperactive spirit. Which is why we don't have a playpen.
Did she go there?!?!)
Yep. I sure did.
I know not to fight bile with bile. I am just trying to explain my point of view. When we are home, the monkey we call Violet has run of the house. She can explore all she wants. We keep the dangerous things out of her reach, we shut the toliet lids, and keep anything we don't want her to break in the cupboards she can't get into. But I never see any reason to keep her in a 3x2 box, no matter what we are doing. She "helps" us clean. She plays. Yes, it is annoying when she turns off the TV in the middle of Top Chef, but that is nothing to make her serve time for. And it has been that way since she was born. We didn't fence her in, and now...she is comfortable enough to explore her surroundings.
This might not work for your kiddo. Some babies want the walls around them. Some need that security to be comfortable. That is fine.
Mine does not. She wants to be free. She worked really hard to learn to run, and now she wants to do it A LOT. The leash is not to keep her from doing that. The leash is to help us keep up with her. We don't want her to heel. We want to be able to follow the monkey tail and know which rack she just crawled under. Or up. And I refuse to feel bad for that.
Plus, as the incomparable Miss A says, it is a lot harder for the pedophile to snatch your daughter when she is attached to you.