Uppercase Woman

Crunch Time

I have a heavy post in my head, but this just doesn't seem like the week to write it. Sadly my brain is empty of all else. Except all the shit I have to do in the next three days. But my list is not as bad as some folks lists, I imagine. I only have a few more gifts to get, but I do have to buy the stuff for Christmas dinner. We have about ten people coming this year, two of which have never enjoyed the awesomeness of my Christmas dinner (seriously, I make good Christmas dinner). Other than that I just have to clean, wrap presents, and one more bout of shopping that we are doing this afternoon while my mom watches Tori.

So why do I feel so stressed?

I interrupt this post to tell the following: My darling daughter just came over and offered me a cup of water. After some consideration, I realized it was a cup of DOG water (out of the dog's bowl). Blessedly, I did NOT drink it. Sigh. Did I mention we have no daycare until January 5th? And I am supposed to start working on my book proposal after Christmas? And Charlie is sick? Yeah.

Anyway. Here's my top ten list of things I am avoiding at the moment because I just want to huddle on the couch under a quilt watching Law & Order reruns.

1. Writing out my grocery list for dinner on Thursday. Which I need to do, or else I'll have a frozen turkey to deal with, and that can't be good. Most often forgotten item? Currants. What, you don't use currants? I put them in the sweet potatoes and the stuffing (with onions. In the stuffing, I mean. I don't put onions in the sweet potatoes. Ew.).

2. Buying Charlie what he asked for as a Christmas present. Which is a Baltimore & Ohio Railroad baseball cap. Because I don't like the yellow logo (sorry, love). I am a very, very bad wife. However, I will get him something nice. Swear. (OK, Charlie just told me he actually asked for a Reading hat. So maybe I don't hate that logo. However, I am still a bad wife.)

3. Wrapping presents early. I used to wonder why my mom and other family members waited so long to wrap the presents, usually doing it on Christmas eve. Now I know. It's because Tori will open them if I do it earlier. Dang it all.

4. Did you see that little mention up there of a book proposal? Yeah. I'm going to put one together and start hopefully begging looking for an agent early next year. I am terrified out of my fucking mind about it. I was so jazzed up about it after BlogHer; I should have done it right away. I know I have a lot of strikes against me when it comes to publishing a book, but I still want to try. Gah.

5. My laundry. I have more laundry to do than I have baskets to carry it in. I have no idea what I will wear when I get out of my pajamas this morning. None.

6. Doing dishes. Seriously, this must happen between now and Christmas. Or else I'll have nothing to cook in. Remind me next year not to have a party ten days before Christmas, m'kay?

7. The breakfast nook of the kitchen. Which currently looks like a massive coat pile. You can't even tell there's a table under there.

8. Finishing this list. I just got totally distracted watching this on Youtube.

9. Putting up the last couple of Christmas cards in their holiday spot. (Ok, this one is minor.)

10. Writing my Savvy Source posts. I am sooooooo behind from being sick last week. But at least I got caught up on blog reading!

So, what are you avoiding this holiday week?

Holiday Spirit a brewin'

So I am so sorry I didn't blog yesterday. I was still sick AND had a million and one things to do and between that and trying to rest a bit here and there no blogging got done. I suck. I know.

Today I am getting better, at last, but Charlie is now sick and Tori we thought might have a touch of pink eye but now we think it's a scratch (no oozing, no gunk or crust, just a red eye that "hurts"). We have a big stack of Operation Santa presents to wrap and deliver or ship, our own shopping to do, and more holiday related shit to do than I can list. So today I just have a couple links for you, and then some lovely photos and a video of our holiday events thus far. (I was hoping to include video of Tori performing at her "pageant" at day care today, but sadly she a) burst into tears the minute she saw me and my mom and couldn't sing and b) the teachers blocked every shot with their butts. Oh well.)

First link: I have been given permission to "out" Charlie's ex-wife. Many of you know her, if you read infertility blogs, as Jessica of Getting Pregnant the High Tech Way. Yeah, I know, a shocker, right? She's got two adorable sons and we are fast on our way to becoming friends, which is pretty fucking cool.

Second link: my friend Geoffrey, who also happens to be the music director at my church, has a brother that needs a little help. He's gotten a great tenure track job in Australia, and is excited to move there, but found out it costs a shit load of money to also bring his cat. He's seeking donations to help get his cat to his new home. I know, I know, in today's economy when there are lots of "real" problems to deal with this might seem minor, but it's happening to people and felines I know, so I care about it and thought you might too. Even if you only contribute $1, considering how many of you are out there, it could make all the difference. So check out his blog about the kitty and consider it, will ya? And please, in the spirit of Christmas, please skip any scolding comments about how this is frivolous, would ya? Thanks.

On to the photos!

First up, the live music we featured at our open house party last week (a bit is included in the video too).

Here you'll find me, Tori, and Sarah's holy-crap-she's-a-teenager daughter shopping for trees, followed by Tori and I showing our slightly diabolical happy faces.

Then we decorated the tree.

This photo proves how sickeningly idyllic our house can be.

Last but not least enjoy this short (under a 1:30) video of the live music at our party, Tori singing along to Jingle Bells while jumping up and down, and Tori helping with the tree while I pester her. Enjoy!

Happy Anniversary (still sick)

While I am fortified with antibiotics and sugar-free Popsicles (a real find in December), I am still too sick to be able to think. My head weighs roughly 300 pounds and my throat hurts so much I have trouble swallowing soup. Ug.

But I hardly have any real problems, as evidenced by the comments still going strong over in my post suggesting everyone share their holiday stress. So while I'm feeling sorry for myself because I might have strep throat the same week I'm due to sing the Christmas Cantata at church, I feel humbled by the actual troubles of people like Suzy Smith and others. I'm sure I'll feel well enough by tomorrow to enjoy my plans (taking Sarah's now teen-aged daughter to get her nails done for her birthday, then picking up a tree and having folks over to decorate it), and by Sunday to sing. God willing.

But for today's good news, I just want to say Happy Anniversary to Charlie. 16 years ago the universe finally aligned so that we could be together. There were people hurt in the process, for which I am still sorry (I was seeing someone else and Charlie was married, after all--you'll find the whole story here) but I have to say, the world came full circle this last weekend when Charlie's ex-wife and husband and kids came by our Open House party. It was lovely to see her (she shares some infertility woes, and we've gotten to be online friends) and meet her kids (good God, they are adorable). It felt good to have grown up enough that we could all be together joyfully.

Now I'm going to crawl back under the quilt and try to garner enough energy to write some reviews for Gruntlings. Maybe tomorrow I'll be up to a real post. God willing.

Calling In Sick

Ug. I'm sorry I'm whispering, but my throat hurts so much I can hardly talk. Apparently, when we closed on the sale of the Pocono place yesterday, both Charlie and I woke up with a horrible illness. He's got a stomach bug, and I've got the sore throat from hell. We took Tori to morning care today hoping they won't care that we swapped Monday for Tuesday, just so we could get a bit more rest.

I feel so awful that I cannot really think well enough to post. I'll just say that the closing went great, Charlie's mom now has a few more months of care, and we'll unpack the car at some point in the future.

Here are a few interesting links to consider today:

From Sparkly Jules, this great link about the six new gene mutations linked to obesity. No wonder Oprah and I can't keep the weight off! I've decided now to not say I'm fat; instead, I'm MUTATED.

From Elebelly, have you heard about the shit they are trying to do to do homemade toy artisans? This is FUCKED UP, y'all, and I'll even go out on a limb and say that there is some serious sexism behind this because most crafters are women. I guess with the easy availability of things like Etsy online, Big Toy Companies are setting their sites on small makers. Bastards. (Course I could be totally off about who is to blame here, but I'm so dizzy I can't make sense of anything.)

That's it from me, folks. Post any other interesting links you've come across here today. I'm going back to sleep.

Cecily's Holiday Stress Blow Out

So, Sarah and I got into a fight over instant message today (OK, it wasn't a fight, just a discussion). Do you know how annoying it is to argue over instant message? It wasn't anything major--we've just both been really busy and haven't been able to spend as much time together as we'd like to, and I was feeling a bit neglected. Then she told me she made plans to see her *gasp* other friends on New Year's Eve and I got upset. We worked it out, and all is well--the good thing about good friends of course is that you can work out most things if you just talk to each other.

The main instigator of our little disagreement was really mostly about the fact that it's the fucking Holidays and we're fucking stressed. Sarah is, I am, our husbands are. It's just a challenging time of year. We are all so stressed about money--none of us have enough coming in, and we keep waiting for checks to arrive from clients that NEVER EVER COME--it's easy to fly off the handle about the smallest things, and the big ones! Well, the big ones kill us.

So instead of doing the good news feature (like I haven't forgotten it nearly all week, but this is a good one) I am instead offering up my comment section, which has been happily reverted to the old format (the new one wasn't working for me, was it working for you?) until they get the kinks out, to you today for venting purposes.

Please feel free to rant and rave about any little or big thing that is just pissing you the fuck off this holiday season. If you want to be anonymous, make up a cute name, but do put your real email if you want a response from me (I am the only one who sees it, and I promise to be a big cheerleader for you).

My rant? It's just this: WHY THE FUCK AREN'T THE CHECKS WE NEED TO DO OUR CHRISTMAS SHOPPING IN THE MAIL ALREADY!!! Seriously, it's like everyone writing the checks just WANTS to fuck with us. Bastards. Assholes. Dickwads.

After this, only happy holiday posting. But maybe we'll all feel a bit better. Oh--and just for fun? I'll be doing a sex toy contest and review shortly. And no, you will NOT be winning the sex toy I, um, tested. I'm going to review some stuff for Eden Fantasys; that should cheer everyone up. Especially me. Heh.

10 Thoughts for a rainy day with a migraine

1. Even though they are slowly decreasing in both frequency and intensity, I fucking HATE my motherfucking migraines.

2. Yo, Canada--what is UP with your Prime Minister and his whole shutting-down-of-Parliament thing? That seems just a tad hard core, no?

3. Yo, Australia--I just saw the movie Australia yesterday. While I liked it--it's a sentimental mess, and please for the love of GOD can we just rid of Ms. Plastic Face Nicole Kidman already (the movie would have been rather amazing with, say, Kate Winslet in that role), but thank God for DAMN HOT Hugh Jackman--I'm wondering what actual Aussies think of the bloated, Hollywood-ized mess of a movie about their nation.

4. I have started doing reviews for Gruntlings (here is my first published review for them). I'm currently helping review items for their gift guide, and I think Tori's head might actually explode if any more truly awesome things for her to play with arrive. She is LOVING being a product guinea pig. I am loving writing the reviews. It's win/win.

5. It appears that they may have found poor Calley. Perhaps now Nancy Grace can GET A LIFE.

6. I want to write a whole post about this, but I'm afraid I'll offend people. But the truth is, I think those blow-up Christmas lawn decorations are kind of a cop-out when they are used in place of traditional Christmas lights. Because a) when they aren't inflated, they look like laundry spread out on the lawn and b) when it's raining, they fall over in a very sad way.

7. We're closing on the house in the Poconos on Monday. I feel stress + sad + slightly foolish about the whole thing (you know, buying the house in the first place, selling it, etc). Feeling grateful, however, that we sold it so fast to someone who really wants it, and that we actually managed to make $2000 on the deal.

8. Hammer, the best dog ever™ (aka Bubba), is showing definite signs of aging. He's showing a fair amount of pain in his rear legs; he often won't come up to bed anymore, choosing instead to stay downstairs. He lost so much muscle mass when he was emaciated (um, before I found him, obviously) that some of it never came back fully; as a result, he's showing more old dog type stiffness and discomfort than you'd expect at 9 or 10 years old (even in a big dog). Either he was much older than we thought when we found him in 2000, or he's just arthritic. I feel badly that there isn't more we can do for him, and I miss our happy go lucky pup.

9. Why doesn't Tori listen, like, ever? Or, more accurately, why does she only listen when we yell? If you know the answer to this, you might also know the secret to "life, the universe, everything."

10. My head hurts. I'm going to stop now.

About Those Gays

Today of course is Day Without A Gay, a day where you might want to look around your office and see who might have called in "gay." Since I do not have a job I can call in gay to, I figured the least I could do is acknowledge the gays today. So, my dear gay friends, I honor you and cannot imagine my world without you. In fact, my daughter's life is owed to my dear gay friend Jim who happened to call us the morning my placenta abrupted and woke us up in time to save Tori and keep me from bleeding to death. So, you know, gay is good in my eyes.

Gay marriage is still a much discussed topic these days, and folks in California have not given up the fight to keep in legal in their state. I've said this before and I'll say it again: I do not understand the objections to gay marriage. Never have, and probably never will. While I may not agree quite with my girlfriend Dolly Parton who said, "Why shouldn't they have to suffer like the rest of us?" I do not understand why anyone is opposed to the existence of more strong, committed relationships.

Last night I watched Jon Stewart eviscerate Mike Huckabee on The Daily Show (be sure to watch both parts) on the subject of gay marriage. It was interesting watching Huckabee defending his stance, particularly in light of this absolutely beautiful and fascinating article in Newsweek about religion and gay marriage (I finished reading it moments before Huckabee started spouting off was interviewed).

One of the arguments Huckabee, and many conservatives make, is that if we "allow" the gays to marry, then we'll have to allow things like polygamy. Ironically, of course, there is a FAR stronger biblical case for polygamy than there is a case against gay marriage (in fact, it's really just gay sex that's the problem; maybe if gays promised to keep their hands off each other?). As the article in Newsweek points out,

"Shall we look to Abraham, the great patriarch, who slept with his servant when he discovered his beloved wife Sarah was infertile? Or to Jacob, who fathered children with four different women (two sisters and their servants)? Abraham, Jacob, David, Solomon and the kings of Judah and Israel—all these fathers and heroes were polygamists."

What's most interesting to me is that Huckabee said, basically, in the 5,000 years of recorded human history, marriage has been between a man and a woman. In fact, to again quote the article, according to the Barnard University Bible scholar Alan Segal, the arrangement has actually been between "one man and as many women as he could pay for." Not exactly the now famous "one man, one woman" ideal. Jon Stewart mentioned that marriage wasn't even made a religious sacrament until the 12th century, and it wasn't until the 24th Session of the Council of Trent that is was stipulated that marriage needed to be done by priests and in front of witnesses.

In other words, this so called "traditional" idea of marriage is actually pretty fucking new to humanity, and has evolved considerably from the arranged family marriage that consolidated issues of property to a romantic ideal (just within the last 800 years).

Remember too that it wasn't all that long ago that preachers railed from the pulpit that the bible forbid marriage between the races--which, in fact, it does. But no one reasonable--certainly, no one who has run for president--is suggesting that we use biblical arguments to break up the marriage of someone like, oh, Clarence Thomas.

The article in Newsweek also mentions the fact that the section of the bible that discusses homosexuality, Leviticus, actually spends FAR longer discussing the proper price to pay for a slave--and again, no one reasonable is suggesting that slavery is OK because THE BIBLE SAYS SO. Many of us on the left are accused of "picking and choosing" what we like in the Bible, but can any Christian honestly say that they don't do the same thing? I mean, do you know of any fundamentalist churches that routinely practice the extensive animal sacrifices that are directed by Leviticus? Does your church suggest we put adulterers to death? How about banning folks that have had testicular cancer (anyone with crushed testicles or penis must be banned)? You'll find a list of other ignored absurdities here.

So, I have to say: why on earth, if reasonable folks have decided that despite what the Bible says, we are a more Christian race without things like slavery, do some people willingly seize one or two references to homosexuality as an excuse to ban gay marriage?

It makes no sense, it seems utterly and completely wrong to me, and I HATE IT.

I know I probably haven't changed any minds, but I am so passionate about this issue--my friend Dana and her wife and children deserve EXACTLY the same rights that Charlie, Tori, and I enjoy. I worry about my friend Dana; after all, she lives in the same state where a woman suffered a stroke aboard a cruise ship and was pronounced brain dead and forced to languish alone for hours before her wife and children were allowed to see her and say goodbye--even though the wife had medical power of attorney and presented those papers to the hospital staff (it's often suggested by conservatives that homosexuals can "file papers" to protect their rights; as you can see, that is often NOT GOOD ENOUGH). They were informed that they were in an "anti-gay state and hospital," and that the hospital was within its legal rights to refuse visitation.

I cannot see, in any universe, that this is the Christian thing to do. Forbid children from saying goodbye to their dying mother? Seriously? Anyone who does think so is, in my mind, not practicing any kind of spirituality that I want any part of. And until friends like Dana and Jim are protected, I will keep writing angry posts about gay marriage at this hear blog. So enjoy your Day Without A Gay, and think about it. Gay marriage hurts no one, and helps everyone. The End.

Operation Santa Claus

So, in my little Christmas family, made up of our actual family + Sarah's family has decided to do something different this year when it comes to giving gifts. Normally we all spend probably around $100 or more on each other (we're not rich, but we aren't quite poor). But this year we've decided to institute a $20 spending cap (not necessarily on presents for the kids) and just give small gifts to each other, and we've decided to answer letters to Operation Santa Claus instead.

Have you heard of Operation Santa Claus? Well, apparently, a few years back all those letters to Santa were languishing at post offices around the country and a few postal workers decided to open them. Many letters were just your standard "Dear Santa" letter, but some were just terribly sad, from kids that clearly had little or no shot of getting their Christmas wishes fulfilled. So the postal employees started taking home those letters and sending presents to the kids and families that sent in the letters.

This has morphed into a full-scale operation, with many large post offices having an employee assigned to sorting the letters and handing them out to not only postal employees but organizations and individuals as well. Philadelphia has an Operation Santa at its Main Post Office not-quite-at-30th Street-anymore (the old postal building was SOLD, apparently), and Charlie and I went down to select six letters (five for us to fill as our gifts for his mom, my mom, his aunt, his cousin, and Sarah's family, and one letter for Sarah to fill as her gift to us).

The letters were sorted by number of people requesting gifts; due to our own relative poverty, we stuck with the 1-2 letters. And the letters... oh my god, they just about broke your heart. In minutes we had a dozen to picked out and had to sort through and pick the ones we actually could fill; for instance, while one person asked for slippers and a robe for her neighbor (not all letters are from kids), which we could do easily, we can't also get her the bedroom set she needs as well. So we left that letter in hopes that someone else WILL be able to do it all.

Here's some sections from the letters we picked:

Dear Santa: My niece was murdered this past February 15th on the streets of Philadelphia. She left behind six children, I'm raising her baby boy, whom we've had since he was three days old. We are in a tight [bind] this year, facing possible eviction from our home, if you can please provide him with Christmas gifts, it would be greatly appreciated.

Dear Santa: I am ten years old. This year I don't want anything for me. I want to make my mother happy this year. You see my mother is a cancer patient and is go for her second operation [sic] and I want the best for her. This year I wish you could send her a quilt queen size and a red terry bathrobe large. I know she will love that.

Dear Santa Claus: I am a single parent with a 9 year old daughter. My daughter has a mental disability due to complications in my pregnancy. She loves reading books and playing with Barbies & Bratz Dolls. Things are really rough this year and I'd appreciate any help you can give us.

Dear Santa: I am 17 years old and I'm going to be a mother very soon. I am having a little girl. I am doing very well in school, I am going to a technical school. I do child development. I've been doing it for two years and I like it very much. I want to be a kindergarten teacher so I plan to go to college so I can get into teaching. I would like some pink booties, also some baby bibs, lots of diapers...

Dear Santa: I am writing this letter as a concerned friend. [My friend] is facing a financial hardship. She has been under a lot of stress because she can't provide for her daughter this holiday season. She is a caring and selfless person, and now she is the one in need. I hope you will be able to bring joy to her and her daughter this Christmas. Her daughter is ten years old and only asked for roller skates, Hannah Montana dolls and a doll baby.

Dear Santa: I don't tell my daughter how worried I am because I don't want her to worry. She's on the basketball team at school and she needs a basketball to practice. She loves clothes, and she also loves sunkist fruit snacks, hot pockets (pizza), oranges and yogurt.

The post office allows you to respond however you like--you can call the people (when they give a phone number), take them shopping, drop the stuff off, or you can ship the stuff anonymously, whatever works for you. We've decided to ship the gifts, primarily because several of the folks we chose actually live quite close by and I would NEVER want them to feel weird or embarrassed if they, say, ran into me at the grocery store. This is because I remember quite vividly being a kid on food stamps and how people felt quite free to look in our carts and tell us when they thought we were buying the wrong things with "their" money. I just want to help in a non-obnoxious and grandiose way (there is something weird, I think, with showing up at someone's house and being all like "Look, I bought you that stuff you couldn't afford!").

I can't tell you how good Charlie and I felt when we left the post office. We both felt like we should have been doing this for years, rather than buying all the crap we've gotten in the past. We plan to make this an annual thing, and we can't wait until Tori is hold enough to help pick out the letters.

While Operation Santa isn't yet available in every town, if you are interested you can help start it in your town or city, or perhaps just go to the post office and ask if it's possible to select some letters. The nice thing, of course, about a running Operation Santa program is that the letters are sorted for you already. But it doesn't seem like it takes that much to start one up.

I have to also take a moment to compliment the amazing young woman running the program here in Philly. I cannot tell you how kind she was, how patient she was with everyone that comes to the program, and how sweet and warm she is while you sit there crying and reading the letters. She makes the process of sorting through other people's lives and pain (and trying to pick those that are "worthy") much less daunting. She also assured us that all the letters are usually taken (often by organizations that take bundles of them), so we didn't need to feel too horrible about the ones that we had to leave behind. She's been doing it for six years, and frankly, is amazing.

I'm telling you all about this not because I want you to be amazed at how generous I am; on the contrary. I love buying presents for my friends, and I will miss it. But as Tori gets older, I realize that I want to instill in her a sense of community and of helping out her community, which means I have to get off my lazy, selfish ass and start helping others so that she has an example to follow.

Another amazing gift of parenting: Tori is making me be a better person. What parent could ask for more from their kid?

* I realize that I haven't been diligent about providing you all with a "Good News" segment every day. I'm sorry. This entry is a kind of "make up" entry about that, and I will be back on track tomorrow. Promise.

30 Months

My darling Tori Anne,

It's official. You are now actually two-and-a-half years old. I remember when I was a kid that "half" was very important, so I want to credit you with all the development you can claim. You are growing up so darned fast, though, I can hardly stand it. Each day passes with you getting taller and more lanky and less chubby--it's sad. I miss your baby fat already; you used to have cheeks so big your face was practically square, and now you have the face of a little kid. Adorable, of course, but still: you are growing faster than I can think.

I'm afraid most of your pictures this month feature this new weird grin you do that we call your "happy face." You clamp down your jaw, smile, and lift your eyebrows all at once so it looks like you are beaming at someone you hate. Cracks me up. At least it's better than your "smile" face. See?

You're probably going to grow up with plenty of reasons to claim we were lousy parents so I really shouldn't fan the flame of that fire, but... apparently, the day you came home in the t-shirt you made for Thanksgiving at your lovely day care was a day your parents were supposed to attend some sort of event or performance or something. Unfortunately you have been given parents that are both a) horrible slobs and b) hyper-organizers so your school schedule, given to us at the start of the year, has either been lost or filed, and we have no idea what is going on. I'm so sorry. Luckily a neighbor was there and took some photos that she said she'd give us so we'll have a clue. Plus Daddy now knows why all the teachers were glaring at him when he picked you up that day. Oops.

 
I know I say this every month, but you are SUCH an active kid. You almost never sit still (unless you're sick), and you literally run run run right up until bed time every night. I wish we could capture all your wasted energy and use it to heat the house; we'd be able to keep the temperature sent at a balmy 75 degrees all winter. You are great fun, but you do wear us out sometimes. A little. In a way.

It's Christmas season again, and this year you are already really into it. You exclaim with glee whenever you see holiday decorations ("Chriffmaff lights! Iff beaffefel!" translation: "it's beautiful!"), you love the trees we see at the various public places we go, and I just know you will love opening presents and having friends over on Christmas day. I can't wait. However, there is one thing about Christmas you hate with an unyielding passion: Santa. When he's on TV, or in a book, you are happy to see him. In person? Not so much.

No picture of you on Santa's lap this Christmas. Ah well.

You spent about a week being sick recently, and it was very, very hard on your Daddy. He loves you so much, and he hates watching you suffer and being unable to do anything about it. I feel the same way, but I have a less itchy "trigger finger" than he does, and I had to stop him from taking you to the ER about a dozen times last week. Your only symptom was a fever, and it went away with medication, but it still sucked. You also complained of stomach pain and gagged a bit (and you did toss up some water once, happily in your crib in the middle of the night), but I can't tell if that's related. You are very into gagging right now, gleefully picking buggers out of your nose, running over to show them to us, and then gagging dramatically when we don't wipe them off your hands fast enough. No, really, that happened.

We've been enjoying showing you some of Philadelphia's Holiday sites, and the photo above is from you watching the light show at now-Macy's-used-to-be-Lord-and-Taylor-used-to-be-Wanamaker's downtown. I love that even though you are a television kid (meaning we let you watch more than most folks think is a good idea), you can still be utterly charmed by a simple light and music show. Now if we could just get you to be more of a fan of Santa...but at least you love your Daddy. How could you not? Look how handsome he is.

Tori, my beautiful girl, you continue to amaze and delight us, even as you exasperate and frustrate. You are exactly the way you are supposed to be--energetic, curious, demanding, charming, adorable, and hilarious. I cannot believe I get to be your mom, even when I collapse in a pile after you go to bed at night. I love more than anything, my sweet sweet girl. Merry, merry Christmas, honey. I love you so much.

Love,

Mommy

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Folks, I'm tagging this post with a quick question: if any of you readers are fibroid sufferers who have had the Uterine Embolization, can you please share with me your recovery time? Just email me (cecilyk@gmail.com) if you want to stay anonymous and not post a comment. My friend Michelle is having the surgery Thursday and is eager for feedback from those that have experienced it. Thanks.

Secondly, I'm testing out a new comment system from Typepad. Please let me know if you love it or hate it, would ya? Thanks.

Blogging Mojo

OK, so I widened the center column of the blog and for some reason that made my banner at the top disappear. Sigh. Thank you for the suggestions about the new layout, and I totally agree with everyone. If there are more comments, please feel free to add. The banner will be back as soon as The Aitch stops selfishly enjoying her birthday and emails it to me. Heh.

Perhaps this will sound whiny, but this blog lately is...   ug. Flat. Dull. Boring. I have totally and completely lost my blogging mojo. I don't know if it's the PMS or the fact that post-election I'm uninspired, or what. But I feel like every post has fallen short of my usual standards, and by the low comment response I can tell y'all are just being too polite to say so. Thanks for that. Not sure my ego can take a bunch of "dude, you suck lately" comments.

So, when all else fails, it's time to post photos and video of Tori. Even though her 30 month post is just days away. In fact, that will be the next post. Sigh. Below are a handful of photos and a collection of clips of Tori being adorable. Added bonus: you'll see how messy my house is! Video is less than three minutes long, and safe for work. :)

Here Tori attempts to make me model the Thanksgiving Hat she made at preschool:

Here Tori models the shirt she made, with the hat. Funny face is a bonus.

And this would be the squirrel that so rudely interrupted my blogging the other day. We didn't catch him until last night.

 

And here, as promised, is the video! Oh, and the one subtitle that is probably too small to read says "you can either have body shame or enjoy being climb-able." Enjoy.

Christmas Traditions

I guess because I just wrote a bit about this for the Savvy Source Philadelphia blog, I've been thinking about my holiday traditions, and the ones I want to share with my daughter. This makes me think about the traditions I grew up with and what my favorite memories of Christmas are.

My most intense memories are of my maternal grandparent's house. They lived far, far away from us in St. Joseph, Illinois (we were in Albuquerque when I was little). So the first memory comes from the long, long drive to Illinois--first across beautiful New Mexico, then the panhandles of both Texas and Oklahoma (please forgive me for not calling them beautiful; all I remember is dry flatness that went of FOREVER with the only distractions being the rare Quaker Oil billboards). When we hit Kansas we always stopped off in Wichita to visit a family friend and her family (her daughter blogs now). I loved Kansas because it was the first place that got green, and when we stopped there in the summer they had fireflies (but that's a different set of memories). Then we'd finish the drive across the rest of Kansas and Missouri, where I absolutely loved seeing the arch in St. Louis (not that we ever stopped, I just liked driving by it). Then, finally, we'd arrive in St. Joe's.

My grandparent's house was, in my memory, huge. It must not have been; it was only a three bedroom upstairs, but the first floor also had a front study area (my grandfather's office, and I am sitting in his desk chair as I write this), a large living room including a Grand Piano (both my grandparents were musicians), a huge dining room with a fold out couch I often slept on, and an additional small room that was a guest room; this room is where the limited toys were kept--a simple set of tiny plastic horses and army figures. Which I fucking LOVED.

But most wonderful things were the wrap-around porch (oh, I love that porch. When I get rich--ha--I'm getting a house with a wrap-around porch) and the "little house" that was full of cool stored objects next to the house (no, it wasn't a garage--those were further down the driveway--it was literally a tiny, one room house). In summer when we visited there were lilac bushes and home-grown corn too. But again, I digress.

I have two distinct Christmas memories of that house. One involves us kids (me and my two cousins, who I don't see very often now, sadly) trying to get a peek at the presents as they were being wrapped. We would peer through the vents (the vents were peculiar--just open holes with a pretty iron grate over it--does anyone know what that's called?), desperately trying to see the presents. But thanks to the vent placement, we usually could only see the pile of wrapping paper and the scissors. But it was absolutely delicious peeking.

The second memory is about my Christmas stocking. My grandmother made stockings for all three of us kids, beautiful knit stockings. I am so, so, so sad and angry at the fucking asshole roommates I had that threw away all my stuff, including that stocking (and my father's teddy bear, and my middle school and high school yearbooks--fuckers). But I did have it as a kid, and I loved it because we kids were NOT allowed to either wake up the adults OR open any presents at 4:30am when we got up, but we could take down our stocking. It was always full of tiny gifts, chocolate, and an orange. Again, it was utterly delicious taking down the stocking and getting completely fucking hyped up on chocolate before our parents even came downstairs (everyone in jammies and robes). I was the oldest, so I was always the first up, and I loved the quiet of the house with the tree lights on, just for me. I get shivery just thinking about it.

Everything else about Christmas at my grandparents was lovely, too. Playing games. Singing carols--every single member of the family had a lovely singing voice. Eating dinner. Going to church. Handing out presents. I loved it all, and those times were the only ones when I felt part of a large, happy family. As an only child with a single mom, most of the time I felt pretty alone. Christmas in St. Joe's was different. It made me so happy.

These are not memories Tori will have. My mother owns a condo, not a place Tori is going to find miraculous and amazing (although the condo is quite lovely). Our home has no open vents to sneak peeks through. We will most likely never travel far for Christmas. Tori's cousins are much older than she is and scattered about the country, and my real life friends that make up my family have kids too old to engage in mischief with.

But there will be plenty of new memories. Going to see Santa at King of Prussia mall (here are the photos from our most recent trip). Enjoying the light show at Macy's downtown. Our annual massive Christmas dinner with friends and family. Decorating our Christmas tree, including my collection of ugly Christmas ornaments.

And I will impose the same stocking rule for Tori. I will fill it with chocolate, presents, and a single large, lovely smelling orange (I just have to find a kit to make her a stocking; I do not knit, I do not want to knit, so I shall have to find another way). Plus, here in Philadelphia, she'll always remember the insanity and magic of the annual Mummer's Parade on New Year's Day.

I feel so blessed to have Tori to share Christmas with. She is the best Christmas present ever. For those of you still waiting for your Christmas miracle, I am praying it happens for you soon.

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You may have noticed a few changes in the blog layout, including the second columns of ads (sorry, again. But it's necessary) and the navigation bar at the top. What do you think?

Business Stuff

First of all, I have to give a big shout-out to Typepad for upgrading me to the new format. Things will be changing around these parts; I'll soon have nifty horizontal navigation and I'm sure some other cool things that will improve the functionality and, naturally, the coolness of this here Uppercase Woman blog. Sadly for you my readers, these changes will free up my side columns for more ads--but you can rest assured that I am using the money for important things like my mortgage and feeding Tori. Heh.

Typepad upgraded me because I pitched a fit. In fact, the email header they sent out about my fit-pitching (which took place on Twitter) said "Eep--angry Typepad Mommy Blogger!" which is actually quite funny; I'm guessing they were afraid of a Motrin-type debacle or something (hey, speaking of the Motrin thing--I thought what Queen of Spain wrote about it is dead on, and really gave me something to think about)(and by the way, that link is now going to open in a new window! Yeah Typepad!). I am still fairly unused to demanding what I want and feeling like I deserve, ya know? But I did demand, and they did fix it.

One issue remains unresolved, however. Typepad a few months back instituted a policy where the comments section gets broken into pages. You have probably already noticed this if you are one of the 10,000 people that emailed me to ask if I deleted your comment. I DID NOT DELETE YOUR COMMENT. I almost never delete comments. I think in four years of blogging I've deleted maybe five (not counting spam). I increased the number of comments per page to 50, so hopefully it will be less of an issue now. But they tell me they are working on it.

In other news, I just got some very good news today about... and I can't say anything about it yet. Just trust me when I say it's about writing and it will bring me some money and, maybe if I'm lucky, prestige. Heh. I'm very excited. As soon as I can share with you the details, I will.

HOLY SHIT HAVE TO INTERRUPT THIS POST TO DEAL WITH SQUIRREL IN FIREPLACE.

OK. It's gone. What the fuck? I LIVE IN THE CITY. Wildlife stays OUTSIDE, thank you very much.

I have completely forgotten what else I was going to say. Sigh.

Oh! Spread the word: Mom-E-Centric is hosting a 12 Days of Christmas contest/give away thing. Go check out it out!

And... in today's Good News!

This might seem like a stretch for some folks, but I believe the Swiss decision to keep giving away free heroin to addicts is great news. I know, I know. It seems crazy.

But here's the thing: heroin, medically, only has one medical side effect: chronic constipation. Any other issues that happen with heroin are related to the crime that is committed to get the money for it, the "lifestyle" that causes you to do things like not brush your teeth or bathe and to sleep with other junkies. Even babies exposed to heroin inutero are far better off than those exposed to other drugs; it doesn't cause defects but of course, horrible sad things happen to babies that have to withdraw from the drug--I'm not saying they don't. But if moms can get weaned before the baby is born, there is little harm done (growth inhibition from mom's poor diet does cause health issues, however). I AM NOT AN EXPERT. I know this little bit of information from my own experience and research. Feel free to disagree.

I know what some folks are thinking; what about methadone? Let me say this as a former heroin addict myself: methadone is a terrible, terrible drug. It has enormous toxicity and requires an intense 30-day withdrawal period (I withdrew from heroin in three days). Long term side effects are bad as well.

Basically what the swiss are doing is a simple way to keep addicts healthy and crime-free. The addicts are offered support and counseling, and many are able to quit thanks to that support. And they do all this without using the tricky drug methadone. AWESOME. Congrats, Switzerland, for actually understanding the nature of addiction.

Prickly

That's me. Irritable. Cranky. Impatient.

I suspect a hormonal culprit (PMS, you fucking bitch).

As a result, I'm finding that Tori is impossible. Charlie is annoying. My life is... blah, blah, blah fucking blah.

This morning I talked to two women, one with three kids and one with four. These women were incredibly generous and kind while I whined about how difficult Tori has been lately (lately I've been referring to her as a bipolar midget--no disrespect to mental illness or little people, I promise). When I grudgingly admitted that I don't know how on earth they manage with more than one child, they both shrugged and said, "You just do."

So that is how I intend to be today. I'm going to slap a smile on my face, take deep breaths, and offer nothing but kindness and love to those around me, no matter how I'm actually feeling inside. Not because I want to put on a "good face"; it's not about dishonesty. It's about realizing that once a month or so I become mildly insane and it's best to just act as if I'm not. Heh.

But first, I'm going to go see a stupid movie. Alone. (It will NOT be Four Christmases which Charlie and I were unfortunate enough to see on Saturday night. God it SUCKED.) Then we're off to King of Prussia mall for our annual photo of Tori with Santa (here's two years ago, and here is last year).

So, I will leave you with today's Good News!

This is a small touching story. I think the person writing the article nailed it--that patriotism is all well and good when it's yelled from the roof tops (or screamed on Fox News), but small acts of celebration such as iron workers mounting flags on the buildings once they are done working on it is the sort of unusual thing that is done quietly, without fanfare, and is honorable as all hell. Makes me proud.

Holiday Linky Love

NOT to be confused with kinky love. Although I am also a fan of that. Ahem.

To start off this holiday season, I am going to inundate you with some links. Forgive me, but I'm made a bunch of promises, and today is the day to honor them.

But first, I just want to take the blog equivalent of a moment of silence for the folks in Mumbai. Like many Americans, I spent the weekend compartmentalizing the horror going on there because it was a holiday weekend and as a selfish American I wanted to enjoy it. But I followed the story as it happened, and I am so saddened at not only the loss of life but the sense of fear and horror that must be the overwhelming reality now for the living. So, please, let's take a moment and remember those in Mumbai.

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Thanks.

First link up: my dear friend Nancy Falkow, who I have mentioned here before a gazillion times, finally has her new collection of lullabies out on CD (previously it was only available as a download). Nancy is, honestly, my favorite singer--she has a gorgeous voice and an amazing capacity to craft perfect tunes--and she sang at my wedding. The group is called Sunflow, and she shares writing and singing duty on this album with Fran King, whose voice could easily pass for Paul McCartney's (he might not like that comparison, but it makes me like him all the more). Nancy and Fran trade vocals from song to song, and I've been listening to this album now for months--no Tori anywhere--on a near daily basis. Seriously, I love it. Please give it a listen, and buy it, because they need the money (I know, everyone needs money). This album would be a PERFECT gift for, say, a preschool teacher? Oh yes. You can download the album here and purchase a CD there as well. You can watch a cute video for one of the songs by Sunflow here. Enjoy.

Second link, and this also a good gift buying one as well. My friend Tracy Helgeson, who knows all my dark, dark secrets from the late 80s (she was there, at the bars, with me back then, although she stopped and went off and had a family and a life and stuff many, many years before I did) is also immensely gifted, but as a painter. Tracy and I got back in touch a couple years ago and I now have a shrine to her artwork on my first floor (OK, it's only four paintings out of the seven, but still). She does breathtaking landscapes with unusual colors. Her paintings fill me with joy the same way Nancy's voice does. So she and many other artists are hurting thanks to the economic collapse, and have all banded together to create a place to buy art without paying out the commissions to galleries. So if you like to give art for Christmas (I love to, when I can afford it--seriously, it's a gift that lasts, ya know?), check out the two places that you can find great art for good deals; The Fine Art Department, and also the Small Art Showcase. You can see and purchase Tracy's work here.

Lastly, if you need insurance and live in Philly, go see my pal Vince Muscato. Seriously--at a time when money is super tight in my house, he just looked for and found an auto insurance policy that was 50% less than the one we had last year. Plus he is now looking into insurance that might help keep Charlie's mom in assisted living instead of a nursing home. He is my hero. 

I think that is actually all the links. That wasn't too bad, was it? Heh.

And, lastly, I have the winners of the contest on my review blog! You'll of course have to go over there to find out if you won. Oh, and with luck, there is going to be a fabulous new contest there soon. Stay tuned.

You'll be happy to know that the folks that interviewed me for a job a couple weeks ago have asked me back. You'll be less happy to know that the salary they are offering, sadly, isn't going to make the job worthwhile. Gah. I am sad because they really seem awesome. So, I'm still trying to get new clients and possibly find a job. All I want for Christmas is enough work to pay my bills. Sigh.

Oh! And I have two questions for you.

First; Tori's car seat. It's an awesome seat (thank you, Tanya), and is supposed to last until Tori is 65 lbs and 49 inches tall. To which I say BULLSHIT. Already Tori--who is exactly in the 50th percentile for height and weight--is fitting tight around the crotch area. If she thrashes around in the seat at all, she yells about how much it hurts, and gets all red and sore. Now, the shoulder straps adjust perfectly, but the bottom thingy that the straps click into does NOT move. Ever. As a result, she's only allowed to grow UP. If she gets any wider at the bottom, she'll be in pain from the seat. So. What do I do? Do I go for a bigger seat? Or a booster? What do you do?

Secondly, what the fuck should we do about our Christmas tree this year? Do I have to put it in a cage again this year (cause that is fucking UGLY and takes up half the living room)? What is your experience with 2.5 year olds and trees?

Thank you very much in advance for sharing your experience. :)

And, now, to round out this meandering linky post, today's Good News!

In the "gee, are they hiring?" category comes the news that the ball-bearing company Peer Bearing decided to do something a little different when they sold the company. Instead of leaving their loyal employees high and dry, they handed out $6.6 MILLION in bonuses. They based the bonuses on the years of service, and some folks went home with as much as $35,000. As a BONUS. People opened their bonus checks and wept. Now, that is some damned fine management. And I am totally jealous. A bonus like that would keep Charlie's mom in her assisted living place until July, at which time our Pennsylvania's Medicaid will begin paying for assisted living facilities. Sigh.

Have a great Monday, folks!

Today's News Filtered Through Food Coma

So I crawled out of bed at 9:30am this morning to find a living room in chaos with Charlie seriously considering calling the National Guard to help wrangle a child wired from not enough sleep. I've been trying to play with her since, but am still feeling moderately brain dead, so I am having trouble coming up with a topic today. This means I turned to Google Trends to discover what the internets are talking about this morning.

Apparently, according to Google, people are shopping or thinking about shopping. Look at this list of things and you will be reassured that consumerism is in fine shape this Christmas season.

And no, I have no fucking idea why Pam Dawber is the number one thing on Google trends today. As far as I can tell, she hasn't died. Odd. I mean, it's not odd that she hasn't died, it's just that I can't think of any other reason that the star of Mork & Mindy is suddenly the hottest ticket on Google today, you know, unless she'd died. OK. Um, moving on.

I did find this rather hilarious story of a judge in Colorado sentencing repeat noise ordinance violators to an hour of either Barry Manilow or the theme song to Barney. I really hope none of those offenders are mothers, because we have steel eardrum and can withstand anything, am I right?

But all Google Trends aside, I am still topic-less for the day. My brain is officially mush, so... what to do.

I did have one tiny idea; I have decided to institute a new policy for the rest of the Holiday season. From now until New Year's Day, I am going to scan the news to find a positive story to bring you every day. I cannot give you a gift, my lovely internet friends, so I am going to attempt to bring some good cheer. M'kay?

First up, this awesome story that was featured on NBC News about Malawi, a nation in Africa. In both 2002 and 2005, severe droughts left the country with over a third of it's population malnourished. This is a familiar story, of course--we Americans are constantly battered with images of starving Africans, and it seems to be a situation that doesn't get any better.

But Malawi--against the advice of Western advisers and Aid groups, who swore Malawi would destroy its entire economy--decided to hand out $60 million worth of fertilizer and drought-resistant seed to its farmers. Not only did this simple act eliminate hunger completely--really--it has also galvanized the economy, with many farmers now exporting their excess crops for a tidy profit.

Imagine that. Compared to the bailouts currently being handed out here in the USA (currently exceeding a TRILLION dollars), this tiny bailout of $60 million is barely a drop in the bucket, and it WORKED. Can you imagine?

Such a wonderful, happy story. Good for Malawi.

Now, off to continue in my child wrangling duties. Happy Black Friday, people (here in the USA, I imagine to the rest of the world today is just another Friday. Ahem).

Gratitude

I swear on the little baby Jesus that I meant to blog yesterday. I had a topic picked out and everything. But I have been on extensive Tori duty and have had very little computer time, and what I had was dedicated to work. Sorry, folks. Bad blogger.

Now, as we head off into the Thanksgiving Holiday, I find myself forced to write about the one thing that always comes up this time of year: Gratitude. In recovery meetings, this ends up being the topic practically weekly (although that's because we alcoholics are a whiny, self-centered bunch that need to be constantly reminded that we could be worse off without too much effort. And I say that with love, really) so it's something I think about frequently.

As a result, I can get a bit sick of gratitude as a topic sometimes. I wanted to put a different spin on it, and I want to hear from you folks as well. So... instead of discussing the standard things we are grateful for--our families, our health, our homes--I'd like to think about the things in you that have changed in the last year that have made you a happier person. It can be something as small as remembering to floss, or something bigger like quitting smoking (go Sarah!). Or it can be something emotional or spiritual that has softened or changed within you.

In other words, what about you is different from last year that you are grateful has changed?

I have two things I'm grateful for. One is about my relationship with food; in the last year it's changed significantly as I've learned to embrace intuitive eating. It took months and months--probably nine months--to get to the point I'm at now (which is hardly "perfect"); it's not at all an easy change to make. I've bombarded my body with the yo-yo of dieting and overeating for years, so much so that learning to listen to my body and determine what it actually wants on a daily basis has taken tremendous effort and reprogramming. But more and more often I can tell when I need vegetables, when I need fruit, and when I need protein. I have found that I don't need carbohydrates nearly as often as I thought, but I've found it easier to make smarter choices when I crave them (Triscuits instead of chips, for instance). In the last couple of months many things I adored (such as hot Cheeto's) have become actually kind of gross to me. I would never, ever have imagined that to be possible.

I'm still not at a place where weight loss has occurred (although my black jeans that were too tight last winter are now loose), and I still need to work harder to incorporate exercise, but I feel connected to my body again for the first time in years. A wonderful thing.

Secondly, and frankly more important, is the amazing sense of self I've developed over the last year. I feel a confidence in who I am, what I believe, and what I'm worth that I have never experienced before. Part of it is just growing up, I think; but part of it is the sense that for the first time in my life I am living the way I'm supposed to, that I am doing my true work, and that I am fully my own person. Crazy, right? Had to wait until I was 40 for that to happen.

So that's some of what I'm grateful for. Funny, though: even now, I still feel a bit conflicted about that last paragraph, that it's arrogant for me to say that stuff. Even now I really have to fight that inner voice ALL THE TIME.

Now, it's your turn. Tell me what you are grateful for inside yourself today. And then have a great Thanksgiving (if you are American). :)

All Thing Vampire

So, it's the week of Thanksgiving, so you can expect dull, fluffy posts. M'kay?

First... well. I just got back from seeing Twilight. I had horribly low expectations; I thought, maybe, at best, it would be about as good as the first Harry Potter movie (which was actually pretty awful). I thought from looking at pictures of the actors that the casting was horrid, particularly for the part of Edward. I thought that the idea that some folks say the book was actually a big metaphor for abstinence was going to annoy me throughout*.

I was wrong.

It was pretty darned good.

Stop reading now if you want to see the movie and haven't read the books. I can't spoil the movie for you if you've read the books; it's one of the most faithful book-to-movie translations I've ever seen, without being awkward. And before I say any more, I will confess the following:

• I have low standards for movies; I can enjoy almost any movies (although I do prefer smart comedies), even stupid action flicks. I am a movie whore.

• I am a vampire freak. I don't have any explanation as to why, but just since Friday I've read most of three vampire novels (I re-read the first Charlaine Harris book in the Sookie Stackhouse series--the series that the TV show Trueblood is based on, and then read the newest novel in that same series, and now I'm almost finished with Laurell K. Hamilton's new Anita Blake book which actually doesn't suck, thank god). So I am predisposed to liking the movie. In fact, I have liked every vampire movie I've seen, with the exception of the one James Woods did a while back. So keep that in mind.

• I loved the books. I really enjoyed them, and thought they were a really interesting addition to the vampire fiction genre (yeah, it's a whole genre).

So. Those disclaimers aside, I LOVED THE MOVIE.

Sure, it's silly in a lot of ways. Teen love, no matter how artfully presented on the screen, has to be silly because of its very nature--obsessive, overwhelming, and all consuming. Everyone thinks their first love is going to with them FOREVER, it's the nature of being young. So as an adult watching from the outside, I can't help but roll my eyes a bit at a depiction of teen love because it's just so fucking overwrought and dramatic. So the book (and the movie) is about teen love--making it inherently silly--but then tosses in actual life-threatening situations to heighten the passion considerably. But if you are willing to set it aside and just go with it, it works.

My biggest fear going in was that the casting of both Bella and Edward was wrong. I was very unhappy when I heard Robert Pattison (who I knew as Cedric Digory from the last Harry Potter movie) was cast as Edward. He's not nearly beautiful enough--or so I thought. Boy, was I wrong. He is a wonderful Edward. First off, he's very tall--I don't know why it matters, but it does--secondly, he really just sunk into the part. By the third or fourth scene with him, I was completely buying him as Edward.

I wasn't sure about the casting of Kristen Stewart as Bella either, but she was great too. She really embodies the part perfectly as well. In fact, everyone in the cast turns out to be pretty awesome, with one glaring exception: Taylor Lautner as Jacob is, frankly, fucking horrible. Part of that is the fact that his hair is just so clearly fucking fake (ug), and I don't think he's actually Native American (I can't tell from his IMDB write up). Also, I must confess, Jacob is actually my favorite character from the novels so I was really looking forward to seeing a stronger, more intense looking guy cast in the part. Taylor Lautner is tiny-- his IMDB pages says he's 5'9" which means he's probably more like 5' 6" and he just doesn't remotely look like a guy that's gonna grow up into a **SPOILER IF YOU'VE ONLY READ THE FIRST BOOK**, well, if you read the books you know what he turns into (hey, just saying he turns into anything IS a spoiler).

Overall, I felt like the movie captured the dreamy intensity of the book. The action scenes unfolded exactly as I expected them to, and looked just like I'd pictured in my head. I will say, however, that the skin sparkling scene left a bit to be desired. I expected, well, MORE. But other than that and Jacob, I really enjoyed it.

And I have to say; for a film supposedly about abstinence? Well, that was seriously one the hottest fucking first kisses I've ever seen on film. Scorching. I don't think that is going to keep ANYONE from having sex, sorry. In fact, I kind of want to have sex now. Watch out Charlie!

Now, I must wrap this up and finish the Anita Blake novel so I can return it to the library for the next obsessive vamp girl to get it. Perhaps the next book I read will involve actual living people. Heh.

I'll try to write something a bit more meaningful tomorrow. Maybe.

*Thank you, my dear actual Mormon readers, for clearing up the idea that the Twilight series represents "Mormon-style" abstinence. I had a feeling that there is nothing in the LDS church that advocated obsessive-stalking-style young love that includes the boy floating outside the girl's bedroom while she sleeps at night. Heh.

Friday Rambling and CONTEST!!!

So, if there is an inch of snow on the ground, I should probably take out the air conditioners, right?

Sorry for my blog absence yesterday; I was flattened by a killer migraine again. I know I mention my migraines here frequently, but they are actually decreasing slowly and I am rarely getting completely wiped out by them like I did yesterday. Plus my new insurance plan actually covers my $25 each migraine pills for a mere $40 copay (although they only allow me to have a few pills a month, it's still better than what I had before!).

So, next random subject. The movie Twilight is out, and even though I am expecting to be incredibly disappointed by it, I am seized with the urge to go see it RIGHT NOW. I will not go today, sadly, as Charlie is working this afternoon at a temp job and I will be home alone with Tori. Plus I got in several twitter discussions about it and am sad to learn that, apparently, the whole damned series is a front for a discussion about Mormon-style abstinence. I quite enjoyed the books, thank you, without knowing that fact. What the fuck ever. I hate finding out that something I enjoy is a secret agenda-pushing subversive plot. Very distressing.

And, moving on again. So! I have a new review up at my review blog with a contest! My very first contest, people! How exciting is that? Heh. So, I reviewed Tori's very favorite food ever, "bug juice," also known to grown ups as Lifeway Food's Pro-Bug Kefir Drink. So please go check out my review, and then leave a comment to win some "bug juice" of your own! Hurry! Go now! :)

Sigh. I am still discussing Twilight on Twitter. Must. Stop. Now.

So, the last rambling thoughts I have... should I throw a party? I'm thinking an open house party, running from late afternoon into early evening, potluck style. Yes? Yes. I shall.

Good LORD I am boring today. What's up with you? How is your day? Do you have weekend plans? Please, make this post interesting. Sigh.

Remembering Who I Am, and Getting Some Perspective

So today Charlie and I went for the second time to a new recovery meeting that I've just fallen in love with. There are people at this particular meeting that have been sober longer than I've been alive. When I think of that, it just boggles the mind completely, and in a really good way.

I go to more than one type of recovery program, and in the last year I've let the part that treats my alcoholism and drug addiction slide entirely too much (and by "treat" I mean it just like it sounds; meetings are basically the chemotherapy that keeps my disease of addiction in remission). My attendance at meetings has been spotty and inconsistent at best, and it makes it entirely too easy to forget.

Today I was forced to remember what my life was like before. We were talking about preparing for Thanksgiving--meaning preparing to be around possible triggers (like drunk family members), and trying to remain in a place of gratitude and joy instead of spending the day stressed out. This made me think back to the 27 Thanksgivings I spent BEFORE I got sober, and you know what? I can remember, like, two of them. All I have is a vague memory of annoyance that the bars I liked to go to were closed Thanksgiving night.

However, I do remember my Thanksgiving Day exactly thirteen years ago. Be warned--this next part is going to be ugly. I'm going to describe my life as it was back then, and it's graphic and gross.   

It was not a good day, thirteen years ago Thanksgiving. Sarah had gone off to rehab about six weeks before and while I'd stopped shooting heroin and was afraid to start it up again (I really didn't want to repeat that withdrawal--plus my dealer had, well, died), I was happily shooting cocaine into my abused arms. Unlike shooting heroin--where I could easily do it just a couple times a day--cocaine was a tough taskmaster. I would shoot up every fifteen minutes or so until the cocaine was gone and, oh, the sadness and horror of when it was gone. This constant use of drugs caused me to have bleeding, from EVERYWHERE. I was puking and shitting blood. My nose bled. My teeth bled. The spots on my arms where I shot up wouldn't stop bleeding.

So, when I woke up Thanksgiving morning I was out of drugs and bleeding. Charlie left me at home to go have dinner with his family (he just knew I was sick, I kept the rest hidden through careful toilet cleaning), and I just remember lying on the couch watching TV jonesing terribly for more drugs with no money and no way to get more. I cannot describe the hell of that day. It felt a lot like being torn apart, bit by bit, the sickness combined with the craving. It was a fucking nightmare.

The day after Thanksgiving, I got on a plane (I know!) and went to my 10th high school reunion. This probably saved my life. I had no way of getting drugs while I was there, so I was forced to spend three days drug free. I drank quite a lot, and I remember showing off my track marks to my horrified friends from high school (hi Leah! hi Katie!), and the overwhelming sensation that the entire world was moving in slow motion.

When I came home, I went right back to using drugs. Until that final day a few weeks later. The day I watched a huge clump of cocaine fall into my spoon and thought, "Oh well!" and shot it up anyway. The day I had a twenty minute seizure, then lay face down barely breathing for ten minutes while Charlie paced the sidewalk outside our house waiting for the ambulance. The night I lay on a bed in the hospital, lying to the doctors and telling them I wasn't doing drugs, even as they took my blood for a toxicology screen. When they came back and gave the list of things I tested positive for, I remember realizing that the jig was up. When Charlie finally came back to my room after finding my drugs and works in my purse (yes, I brought them to the hospital, why?), I was ready when he said, "No more. This stops today."

And it did.

We went home, we threw everything away (including spending two hours finding and breaking all my hidden syringes) and then we slept. When we woke up, we went to our first meeting together. We've been sober ever since.

It's funny how remembering all that can so clearly shift my focus and, well, basically give me a kick in the head. It's called PERSPECTIVE. I mean, no matter how stressful today is, my life is GOOD.

Let me say it again. My life is WONDERFUL. Sure, money is a bit tight right now. But things are going to work out. They really are. Maybe I've been a bit impatient with Tori lately, but that's nothing compared to the parenting she would receive if I were drinking again, right?

I had a wonderful job interview yesterday. We got an offer on the house in the Poconos already (I know, crazy, right?). I have another potential freelance gig that looks really exciting. Charlie loves me, fat ass and all. Tori is funny and adorable, mostly. I have good friends. My mom is babysitting Friday night.

Life is good.

I don't share this with you today because I am bragging about my sobriety, or trying to shock you by how much of a mess I was back then. Nor do I feel like I am particularly strong, or brave, or unique in either my drinking and drugging OR my sobriety. I just wanted to share about how easy it is for me to get off track, to get wrapped around the axle about shit that, in perspective, seems pretty fucking petty. Writing this reminds me, and I am blessed to remember. I have a great life. Thank God.

And, as we say, thanks for letting me share. :)

Dear Tori: Your Mommy Is An Asshole Right Now. Sorry.

My darling Tori Anne,

I have not been the mom to you that I want to be lately. I have no patience. I know I have been brusque with you; I know I should have just gone ahead and sung that lullaby to your stuffed Elmo last night instead of walking away and making you cry. I know I've been incredibly irritable, especially when you throw your binkys out of the crib over and over instead of going to sleep. I'm so sorry. It's not your fault. After all, you are only two and a half years old--not even--and you are just being the kid you are supposed to be. I'm the one that is falling apart at the seams.

Part of it, my darling girl, is that both your Daddy and I are so stressed about money. I remember what it was like when I was a little girl watching my mom stress about money; I always felt guilty for needing and wanting things, and I still struggle with that today (for instance, I need a new winter coat, and I feel horribly guilty about it and just keep wearing lots of layers instead of trying to find money to shop). I really, really, REALLY don't want to instill those sorts of feelings in you. It is perfectly OK to want things. I promise. Even if you want things like candy corn after it's out of season; thank God your Daddy spotted some at the drug store yesterday. Now I can brush your hair again (yes, I bribe you with candy. I told you I was a bad mom).

If it's any comfort, sweetheart, it's not just you I am being this way with. The other night? That noise you heard about 10:30pm on Sunday when you were supposed to be sleeping? That was your Mommy losing her shit and yelling at Daddy for twenty minutes straight for no reasonable, well, reason. Sorry about that too. I know you don't like it when we yell at each other. And then yesterday I wrote what I thought was a silly and lighthearted post and it totally backfired and I both insulted people and got compared to the GOP. I am failing to communicate at all levels these days.

This afternoon your Mommy has a job interview for a really fun job that I think I'll be good at. But I feel badly because it means I will be away from you a couple days a week. Please know that I am not doing this because I want to get away from you (although I will confess that I think I might be a better mom if I get a bit more of a break now and then), but because I want a regular paycheck. And the chance to talk to adults a couple times a week. It's not because you are driving me crazy. I swear. Really.

Please forgive me and be patient with your Mommy. I am sure that once things level out, and your Grandmother is taken care of, and the house in the Poconos sells, and our paychecks start coming again, Mommy will be back to her patient, loving, and tolerant self. I hope.

Just remember, no matter what, I love you more than anything. You are still my favorite person in the universe. This stress will pass; but going through it? Kinda sucks. For everyone.

Love,

Mommy

Damn, We Are POWERFUL

I'm a bit late to this party, but perhaps you live under a rock--or, more reasonably, do not suffer from an intense addiction to all things Twitter like I do (even on weekends I spend a couple of hours on the site, or more accurately, using my desktop program Tweetdeck to follow everyones twits while I attempt to catch up on blog reading)--so maybe you haven't heard about the painkiller-that-shall-not-be-named pissing off moms with their new ad campaign. You'll find a great synopsis at The Mother Tongue, whose blog tag line I totally wish I thought of first. She has the text of the ad available, and Her Bad Mother (who also has an excellent write up of the kerfuffle) has the actual ad (I'd give it a listen because part of the problem with the ad is the tone-of-voice of the narration).

Basically, it went like this: a new on line ad launched on Saturday dissing babywearing, said ad was discovered, outraged moms twittered about it, other moms blogged about it and by Sunday night the entire site for the painkiller was down as they removed the ad.

I get what they were going for--they hoped to capture the tone of mommy blogs (let's all pause for a moment to hate the dismissive and patronizing term of "mommy blog" and move on, m'kay?) with this ad by being a bit snarky. Unfortunately, the ads sounds to me like it was written by a late 20-something woman who is pissed off that her best friend went and had a kid and now they can't bar hop together on the weekends anymore.

In other words, the ad failed MISERABLY. The company that makes said painkiller is horribly chagrined--Amy of Crunchy Domestic Goddess has their emailed reply--but it's probably too little, too late. And while they pulled the on line ad, the print ad is already out there in magazines; see Moxie's take on that today as well, as well as her astute observation that if your sling hurts you, you are either a) wearing it wrong or b) wearing the wrong kind of sling.

Now, I found the ad irritating in the extreme and wanted to toss my children's version of said painkiller out the window (by the way, their ad for the child's version of the product was similarly offensive) but I'm not stupid and I have a toddler with her back molars coming in (plus we're broke), so I'm keeping what I have. But I'll be making a concerted effort to avoid said name-brand product now and stick to generics.

But what really struck me is how incredibly powerful mothers have become now that we are all connected (yeah internet!) and have a collective voice (not completely collective--some folks weren't all that bothered by the ad). I'm thinking maybe we should put this power to REALLY good use--not just take down stupid ad campaigns, but maybe actually do something like take over the world effect national policy. Wouldn't that be interesting?

______________________________________

Thanks for the kind words (and even the not-so-kind words) about yesterday's post. I did go for a nice walk, and hung out a bit with Sarah who it seemed like I hadn't seen in FOREVER, and it helped my mood. I'm now excited about tomorrow's job interview*, and the prospect of working again. Like, OH MY GOD I'd get to talk to adults (other than Charlie) every day! Imagine that.

By the way--have you checked out Sarah's new website? She's changed her blog into a photography site and it's COOL. Please visit. And hire her to take your photos. As we say on Twitter, kthxbai.

*Wait, did I mention that I have an interview? I do! For a really awesome part-time job doing marketing/web management for a local arboretum--so up my alley it's fucking ridiculous. They called me two hours after I sent in my resume. Sweet! Interview is 3pm EST tomorrow, so think good thoughts for me!

Sunday Quickie

The sun if finally shining again here, after spending 14 out of the last 17 days cloudy and rainy.

I have found something that is helping my migraines significantly (progesterone cream).

I got a great night's sleep.

I have a job interview on Tuesday for a really interesting part time job that is right up my alley.

I just decided I don't have to go to church if I don't want to.

I'm thinking about going for a nice long walk instead.

But.

It's cold out.

My head still hurts a little bit almost all the time.

I wish I could have stayed in bed this morning.

I don't want to have to get a job.

I feel guilty for not going to church--again.

I'm lazy and don't really want to get bundled up and drive to a state park for my long walk.

And... I'm totally fucking unreasonably cranky. Like CRANKY.

What is wrong with me?

Sigh.

The Other Side

The other day on NPR on one of our locally produced shows called Voices in the Family hosted by psychologist Dr. Dan Gottlieb  spent a whole hour talking about how hard this election was on the nearly 50% of the country that did NOT want Barack Obama to win. I didn't get to listen to the whole show (as nice as Dr. Gottlieb may be, he has that quintessential psychologist voice that makes me want to tear out my hair so I don't actually listen to his show. Ahem.).

I've been thinking about the idea of being on the losing side a lot lately; after all, I know what that's like, having spent the last eight years in the 50% of the country that wanted to run screaming away from George Bush and all he stood for. It sucks. It sucks ass. Not feeling represented in your government is a small constant stress that flares up every time you read the paper or watch the news. It's a miserable feeling, and frankly, I don't wish it on anyone.

A couple of my readers who were McCain supporters (or, in one case, a supporter of the Constitution Party's candidate) have written some excellent--and for me, rather humbling--entries about the whole "What now?" feeling they have. Stephanie writes about her belief that God wanted Obama to win, and how she'll support the new administration. Josh of The Cultural Insurrectionist not only claims the hand of God was involved with electing Obama, but calls other conservative writers to task for being un-Christian in their attitudes. Both entries are eloquent and heartfelt, and completely lack any sign of sore loser syndrome.

I find them humbling because, in all honesty, at NO TIME during the last eight years did I adopt such a tolerant attitude toward George Bush's administration. In fact, not only did I NOT accept George Bush as our President (I fully believe that the 2000 election was rigged in some way), I've routinely called him stupid, flamed his policies, railed about the injustice of it all, and dismissed ANY element of his administration, whether it was positive or not (surely there must have been something positive, right?). Also, I have been crowing with joy to anyone who would listen about how damned happy I am to have my guy be the winner.

I would like to say I feel abashed and sorry about that, but the rage is still too near the surface. Suffice it to say that I commend these two for setting aside their feelings and being big-hearted enough to support Barack Obama, no matter how frightened they are by his policies.

And since I know many of you feel the same way they do, I'll try to keep the crowing to a minimum here on my blog and I promise to be just as hard on Barack Obama as I've been on George Bush. M'kay?

While I realize that there are plenty of conservative pundits out there that have NOT been kind, I am so glad to see this spirit of unity happening somewhere, you know? I really think the number one thing we have to do as a nation is find a way to come together again, and stop the crazy anger and hatred that is happening, sometimes right at the kitchen table. I feel like we've found a way to that kind of peace here on this blog--surely we can spread it further, right?

So, what do you think you can do to further unity in the United States? How do we "reach across the aisle" to each other? I am very interested in your thoughts. Let's hear 'em.

Minor Implosion

Sorry I'm late posting today... it's been a crazy day. Charlie and I finally got to sit down and work out the long-term overall finances and, well, it's not good. For a minute today we thought we were going to have to yank my mother-in-law out of her place in the next couple of weeks, but no, we don't. She has a few more months, but we have to start the process of applying for her to receive Medicaid and moving her in the early spring at the latest. Sigh.

I don't want to waste another post complaining about money, but suffice it to say that I am now actively applying for part-time and temp jobs and so is Charlie. Tori is probably coming out of Morning Care next month, and we will be trying to balance her care, my mother-in-law's care, and two partly working parents (and still freelancing parents) while we do it. I am not happy, but, it's the reality of this current economy--both the nation's and this family's.

Sigh. It feels like this happened so fast, but I know it's been coming for months. So, I'm going to keep this short, but if you feel like sending prayers or good thoughts our way (I know, you always do) I'd appreciate it. Maybe with your help the universe will shift and we'll end up on our feet. :) Thanks.

10 Parenting Things I Wish Existed

1. Playgrounds without swings. Because no matter how hard I push, Tori always wants to go higher. Sometimes Mommy just wants to sit the fuck down already.

2. A Mute Button For Whining. I don't want to mute the serious concerns, but the whining? KILLING ME. And the good news is I have YEARS of it to look forward to.

3. Vegetables that taste and look like chicken nuggets.

4. A small force field that would prevent the dog from taking food out of Tori's hands. Because the begging was bad with the dog before with just Charlie feeding him, and now that Tori feeds him too it's unbearable.

5. A way to keep my kid in bed until 7:30am. Or maybe 8am, while I'm asking. Fucking daylight savings time.

6. A grocery store where the shelves all start four feet off the ground.

7. A toy that would make it fun for my kid to scrub while she plays in the tub. She likes staying in there for hours at a time, might as well have her work while she's doing it. I suppose I could just give her a scrubbie.

8. I know I've already bitched about this, but someplace for Tori to play between 4 and 6pm during the week. Someplace NOT in the dark like the playground now is. Cock sucking daylight savings time.

OK, I can only come up with eight things. That means you guys have to supply the last two, and however many more you can think of. :) Oh, and bonus item:

11. Some sort of electrical field that zaps my cat (gently!) whenever she tries to pee outside the litter pan. OK, maybe that's a bad idea but I am so over the cat pee already.

PS: Happy Veterans Day, both to Americans and Canadians. :)

Chasing Away Serenity, or, Monday Morning Confession

Before I start this post, please know that I am going to use the term 'chaos' tongue-in-cheek. Apparently my attempt to use the word 'poverty' the same way last week didn't go over well with some folks. Just for the record, I realize that giving up energy drinks and selling our mountain trailer* doesn't mean that we are, in any way whatsoever, impoverished. I spent a childhood in poverty (my mom told me recently that we lived off $210 a month when I was little, and $150 of that went to rent--just to give you an idea) eating rice and beans, so I do know what I am experiencing now is not even CLOSE.

Anyway. So know when I talk about chaos I am speaking of minor things, really, nothing on the level of, oh, Hurricane Katrina and the chaos that ensued there. M'kay?

I was at a recovery meeting yesterday, and the leader brought up the topic of insanity. We often speak of the insanity that was our addictions in meetings--after all, my history includes stuff that would make most peoples hair curl, and I wasn't all that "bad" in my addiction. But I've found that crazy behavior followed me right into sobriety, and even now, nearly 13 years later, I still sometimes create and crave a bit of chaos.

One of the biggest ways I create chaos in my life is by being late. I don't have that many places to be, honestly--yet I manage, at least once a week, to run late enough that I drive somewhere like a lunatic, screaming at other drivers and cursing red lights. Usually I'm driving to a meeting, so I arrive at the place I'm supposed to be getting peace and serenity in a state of angry panic. Perhaps this doesn't seem like a big deal to you, but when I pulled up to the school we're hoping to send Tori to and saw their "You are not late! Slow down!" sign I almost started crying.

The other way, sigh, is my house. Here's the truth: it's filthy.

I work from home. Charlie works from home. But the sink is always full of dishes (our dishwasher died 18 months ago and we've never replaced it). The carpet in the living room, not even a year old, is covered in ground up cheddar bunnies and--sadly--cat pee (the cat is 13 years old and she is not that great about getting to the litter pans). The bathtub is dirty enough that I simply must clean it before I put Tori in it again, and the toilet was left neglected long enough that now it simply will NOT come clean.

It's inexcusable, honestly. Charlie and I do manage to clear out all the clutter and vacuum and do the dishes every couple of weeks but it never lasts more than a day. We don't put away Tori's toys every night, or insist that she do it (or at least help). We eat in the living room entirely too often. And we never, ever mop.

I've been ignoring this for a long time, but now a mouse has taken up residence in our kitchen. The cat is too old and fat to care, and the dog simply raises his head when he hears it but doesn't deign to get up. As a result, the mouse is ridiculously bold; I've heard it in the kitchen when I'm watching TV twenty feet away. Gah.

Part of this is the fact that I got out of the habit of cleaning; after all, when I was pregnant with Tori I wasn't allowed to do housework so we had a house cleaner come every two weeks. But the larger part of it is that we trend toward being slobs. But I don't want to be a slob. I want to instill good habits in my daughter, and I want to have better habits myself.

I am going to take some small first steps.

I am going to give up one hour, three times a week, of my Tori-free time to cleaning. Most likely on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It can be either while she's at morning care (while that lasts) or napping. Either way, I will clean three hours a week. I am NOT going to ask Charlie to do much more; frankly, he does a fair amount now. He does the bulk of the dishes, he takes care of the garbage/recycling/litter pans. He does his own laundry. He's usually the one that puts the toys away, and he does a full share of parenting too. He also has more work than I do right now. We'll probably find a couple of things to alternate (maybe like putting away the toys each night) because our every-other-morning schedule with Tori has become a thing of beauty.

I want to cultivate serenity in my life (especially now that the election is over--heh). Having a clean house goes a LOOOOOOOONG way to achieving that goal. Basically, it's all a matter of balance, and is yet another minor issue that needs adjustment as I settle fully into my role as a work-at-home mom.

But the biggest reason I'm doing this is because living in a clean house makes me happy, and frankly, I deserve to be happy. This is a big move for me, folks--admitting that I deserve happiness. I realize that my life is what my life is, and I mostly trust (believe it or not) God to make sure things work out. But, as we say in recovery, God is not my arms and legs, and God sure as shit ain't gonna come over and clean my house for me. That's up to me.

So, that's my Monday morning confession. Tell me; what is standing in the way of your happiness today? What do you do to create a bit of chaos in your life? Do tell.

*By the way, thank you kindly for refraining from saying "I told you so!" about the mountain house. You were all right. Sigh.

29 Months

My darling Tori Anne,

You are twenty nine months old! You are almost two-and-a-half but now I am telling people you ARE two-and-a-half because, well, it's easier. I imagine I should get a few months out of this age until you become--gulp--almost three. I know I say this every month, but DAMN you are growing up so fast. I've been seeing a lot of tiny babies lately and I find myself thinking about when you were a teeny thing, and I just can't believe that you are, well, a KID. No baby left in you at all.

It is very hard to get a picture of you smiling these days, since every time I point a camera in your direction you close your eyes tight and shriek, "CHEESE!" So now I have lots of pictures of you doing that. It's adorable, though, one of your many developing quirks. You have become a rather charming child, able to make me laugh by being adorable and funny. One of your favorite things to do is say things like, "Is it dark?" in the middle of the day and then say, in this funny voice that I think is imitating me, "It's not dark!" Cracks me up every time. You also frequently bring me imaginary candy and ice cream which is hilarious (this is something you learned from other kids at the playground pretending to have an ice cream stand) and I have to pretend to eat it or you are unhappy. It's delightful.

You are still incredibly physical, and you love to play catch and kick a ball. Sadly, the beach ball you are pictured with above (photo taken by your godsister, by the way) has met its demise, and now we have to scour the world to find you a beach ball in November because you are SO SAD about it being gone. I'm thinking maybe a party store might have some. GOD WILLING.

We just celebrated Halloween, and man, it is your favorite holiday now. You got it, for the first time, and now you wake up each morning demanding to go trick-or-treating. You are DEVASTATED that this is a once-a-year activity. I mean, what kid wouldn't be? You dress up and go to people's houses and they GIVE YOU CANDY. It's like Nirvana for a kid. You dressed as a ladybug princess, and for a while there I thought we weren't going to get you into your costume because every time you saw it the week before Halloween you ran away from it screaming. I'm not sure what changed your mind the day of. Probably that promise of candy.

You laugh these days, a lot. Except sometimes at night. About half the time, around 11pm--just as your daddy and I are settling in for the Daily Show--you start talking in your sleep. You ALWAYS say the same thing: "I don't like it!" and "I don't want it!" It's never bad enough that you actually wake up fully, but still, I worry what it is. I suspect, however, that it happens when you get a binky stuck under your head and you think I am trying to put your hair in ponytails which I LOVE but you, frankly, kind of hate. I can only put them in by bribing you with candy, which I do quite often. I am SUCH A GOOD MOM.

Sadly, they changed the damn time on us and now it's gotten hard to take you to the playground, which is tough on all of us. You are still napping every day for about 2-3 hours (we are SO LUCKY), but that means you are waking up right before it gets dark. I don't know what to do. We will find you something to do to run off all that energy in the afternoons, though--I promise.

One of the things we've started doing together is cooking. It's amazing how much more you will eat if you are involved in cooking the food. It's great fun, and somehow I've managed to teach you how to be safe at the stove, even though your daddy has to go into the other room when we do it because he is so convinced you are going to get hurt. But we have a great time, as you can see in this (very short) video.

Two pretty momentous things happened in this last week. First up--and in your sports-hating mommy's mind, not actually that important--the Phillies won the world series for the first time in forever. We took you downtown to enjoy the celebration with about two million other people, and you were suitably impressed. It was great fun.

But of earth-shattering importance is the fact that America elected a brilliant young man named Barack Obama as President of the United States. The reason this is so amazing--a fact I hope you will NOT find amazing when you eventually get around to reading this--is that Barack Obama is black, and he is the first African-American man to be President. But it's not just the fact that he's black that is so amazing; he has brought with him a wave of hope and joy, and a sense that he will blow away the fear and anger and secrecy that has been part and parcel of the last eight years in the White House. I cannot tell you how awful the last eight years have been to your super liberal parents, watching rights dwindle as President Bush bet our economic future on a nasty, bungled war. I don't imagine, when you read this, that Barack Obama was able to live up to all that hope and promise--after all, he's inheriting a mess; a nation that is universally hated across the world, a terrible debt, and a terrifying economic crisis and a war on two fronts--so there is no doubt that he will be forced to let us all down in some way or other. Compromise will probably be his middle name soon (as opposed to the hated Hussein, his actual middle name; God willing, you have no idea why people thought that was a bad name), but for now--well, for now, my darling girl, the world feels bright with hope and promise again, kind of like how I feel when you smile at me and mean it.

We've had yet another lovely month together, my dear. Your negative behavior (the throwing, kicking, and hitting) has managed to go into remission for now, and that means we have a lot more fun together. I am still giddy with joy sometimes when I think of you, and when I look into your eyes sometimes I am actually struck dumb with your beauty. I tell you all the time that you are beautiful, but you correct me and say, "I'm not beautiful, I Tori."

You sure are, my lovely girl. You sure are.

Love,

Mommy

Poverty is the New Black

In an attempt to save a little money, I decided to cut back on my last addiction: diet energy drinks. Turns out I was spending about $150 bucks a month on my two-cans-a-day habit, so I decided to switch to drinking coffee instead. But apparently there is a fair amount of stuff in those energy drinks BESIDES caffeine that are addictive, and yesterday I spent the day feeling like I had a steel cap on my head, slowly tightening and tightening and tightening. IT HURT. It was like a migraine with an added pressure bonus.

So...I drank one again. And then another. Sigh. I'll figure out a way to cut them out eventually. The sad thing is that this is only the first of the many things that are going to go as Charlie and I adjust to our new, poorer life. With my having less regular work, money is tighter and it is not likely to get less so as we get closer to Christmas and winter. Even with gas prices dropping, food prices are still super high (lot of spaghetti in our future), and so is heating fuel. We have to cut back.

My afternoons at the movies are likely to go, as are my nails. Charlie will probably have to cut out some of his afternoon trips to photograph trains. We might have to pull Tori out of Morning Care for a month here and there. We certainly won't be eating out much or ordering take-out (we've already switched to cooking a lot more of our meals) but that I don't mind as much.

But the biggest thing that is going to have to go is the place in the mountains.

Ug.

I am not happy about it, but Charlie's mom took a HUGE hit with the stock market crisis. The money that Charlie has been managing for her care is nearly gone; she has, at best, a few months left in the private home that she is currently living in (at $5,000 a month plus medicine, it's not too bad, but still). There's a state-funded home that is quite lovely that we'd like to get her into, but she needs to have lived in the county for three years to qualify. Selling the mountain place--while we realize it could take months--is the money we need for those few extra months of private care to get her to that three year deadline.

Hopefully by next summer Tori will be old enough to go camping instead. Heh.

I am not posting all of this for sympathy or pity (no really, I'm not). This is the life I've chosen; if I want to be home with Tori, sacrifices are going to have to be made, and that's not a bad thing--it's just how it is. As for Charlie's mom, well--she was going to run out of money eventually, and while it unfortunate that it is coming a bit sooner than we expected, it's also just how it is.

I'm mentioning this because I suspect this is true for most of us--the current economic crisis is causing even the wealthiest of us to have to make some unfortunate choices. Again, it is what it is.

I wanted to talk about this because contrary to some conservative pundits out there, I do NOT believe that Obama is the Messiah,and I do not think that he will waltz into the White House in January and instantly fix the universe and reverse the economic downturn with a flick of his skinny wrist. I think we are all going to have to work together and accept some tough things--like, oh, maybe raising taxes on some folks--to get through and turn things around.

Remember how during the second world war everyone got used to having to accept rationed sugar? I can't imagine today's United States being willing to accept that kind of temporary poverty for the greater good. But I think it's what is necessary. The way we've been living this last thirty or so years is not sustainable. We have to make sacrifices.

I am willing. I will step forward and give something else up, if asked. I want to see things improve, and if that means making some changes in my life, so be it. I hope that is true for all of us. Are you finding yourself forced to make some changes? How do you think you'll manage to weather this current economic crisis? What do you think should be done?

O • B • A • M • A

That's President-Elect Obama to you, my friends.

Unbelievable. Unfuckingbelievable.

I'd hoped. I'd prayed. I'd dreamed. But I have to admit, I didn't believe it would really happen. I truly feared that Americans would respond to the panic, hatred and bigotry that was being spewed on the airwaves these last few weeks. I was afraid that the election would be stolen again. I refused to go to bed last night until McCain conceded--after all, I'll never forget 2000 when I went to bed with Al Gore having been elected President and woke up to find out that we'd been robbed. And of course I stayed up to watch Obama's amazing acceptance speech.

Watching Jesse Jackson cry as Obama spoke; man. I mean, sure--he acted like a bit of an idiot at moments during the campaign. But Jesse Jackson was THERE when Martin Luther King, Jr was killed; can you imagine what it must feel like to have fought your entire life for civil rights to finally see a smart young black man elected President of the United States? I don't blame him ONE BIT. I cried too.

It's been a hard, tough, ROUGH eight years as a liberal anti-war American. Today, it feels like a new world.

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I'd hoped that yesterday would be a full sweep, a complete indictment of the conservative agenda. And in some ways it was; the "life begins at conception" amendment was defeated in Colorado, the abortion ban in South Dakota failed AGAIN. Michigan and Massachusetts approved medicinal marijuana use. In Washington the "euthanasia" law passed.

But gay marriage was successfully banned in Arizona and Florida. In California, the Prop 8 bill is still too close to call (although this CNN article indicates that it failed) yet a law protecting the rights of animals succeeded there--an irony that is lost on many, I suspect.

I simply do not understand, and I never will. The idea that gay marriage causes harm to anyone is so far beyond my ken that when I hear people say stuff like, "But then they'll make incest legal!" I, frankly, want to kill them.

So while I am crowing with victory and hope and joy about Obama winning the Presidency, I am feeling saddened by the losses endured by my friends in this new civil rights battle.

We still have work to do, people (and, for once, it looks like the rest of the world is excited to help us). Don't get too comfortable. But still, say it with me:

President Barack Hussein Obama.

Yes!

VOTED!

Seriously, I haven't ever been this excited to cast a ballot in my life. There were no lines here in my corner of Delaware County, Pennsylvania, so Tori was able to come with me to vote and press the buttons for me.

May my daughter never know a time when our nation didn't have a black man as president.

This is all I'm going to say today. Some of you are dealing with long lines, I know, and I don't want to take up your time. Go vote, and we'll all wait with bated breath for the results tonight. I'll be on Twitter after Tori goes to bed, and of COURSE I'll be watching the 10pm special with Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert.

Good luck to everyone. But especially Obama. Heh.