Mommy Martini

Autism + Gia

2011-12-05T16:34:00.000-08:00

Today is December 4, 2011. It’s just a Sunday, not a particularly magical Sunday, but a Sunday nonetheless. It is exactly two months from the day that Gia was diagnosed with an Autistic Disorder. I thought of other crafty ways to say that, but it never turned out the way I wanted. I typed the sentence(s) and then delete-delete-delete, and then typed another. I gave up. Nothing poetic. No segue from witty thought to a topic that tears my heart out, most days.

Most days, I cry.

The other days? Honestly, on the other days, where I am not sobbing-in-my-car-alone-like-a-not-so-hot-mess, I wonder what the fuck I’m doing. I’m angry for her, and unsure of who I should direct my shitty disposition to. I remember feeling like this when I found out that she was blind. I remember feeling like this when the doctor said she would need a growth hormone injection, nightly. At this point in time, I am heartbroken. Pissed and heartbroken. Eventually, I will stumble across these words and realize that this was just a phase, and that I tackled this diagnosis like the others, and kicked its ass, on her behalf. I will be her advocate, there’s no questioning that, but right now I'm sad. Don't confuse that with pity, because there is no pity here. Most parents want what is best for their children, and in those wants come the desire to have good health and the least amount of obstacles in their future. Right? RIGHT??

This isn’t a phase. That’s the part that I’m having a hard time with. For some reason, it was easier to be content with thinking that her behaviors were phases in her development and not actual issues. Actually, I was pretty content with the possibility of Autism. Once there was a hint of the A-word, it served as a point of relief for certain otherwise-unexplainable behaviors. If my family and I could imagine that Autism was the cause of a lot of issues, then the actual tantrums/hand flapping/incessant jumping/etc. became easier to deal with. Okay, not easier, but more ….understandable. Does that make sense? It isn’t a phase, however, and the realization that these behaviors are here for a while - - - are overwhelming.

Now that we have the diagnosis, I find myself struggling to believe it’s real or accurate. I feel like the 482,196 questions I answered were wrong somehow or I overestimated things. I question its validity daily. She has been evaluated by several people who each say the same thing, and I still can’t believe it sometimes. G and I had a meeting the other day with 4 million people from her school (well, it felt like 4 million). The whole group was there, all nine of them. They each took turns pointing out her skills and weaknesses and intended goals. They showed me, in years, where her current abilities reside. If you’ve never had your child picked apart and described to you, even in the most gentle way, by a group of educational professionals, then you may not know what I’m talking about when I say that it sucks. Yes, there is my very most grown up phrase. It suck-suck-sucky-suck-SUCKS, and it is one of the most difficult parts of being a parent.

I began parenting classes last week. The first class was extremely hard, because we all had to share our stories. Talking about G’s vision or the other things that make up who she is comes easily, but if you expect me to explain anything about her daily habits, or what I want for her future – you’re out of your mind. I cried like a baby. There I sat, in a room full of parents who had kids with echolalia, strange attachments to unusual objects, and the inability to create spontaneous speech consistent with kids in a close proximity age group. Story after story, parents spoke of situations and behaviors that we see every day in our home. Not a single person tried to make another feel crazy for being concerned about a specific behavior. Not one person pacified the other. We were in a room full of people who understood that their kids’ milk drinking obsession was akin to my child’s tendency to carry a chapstick in her hands for as long as I'll let her. The second class was better, because during the moments in between exercises, I was able to share my frustrations with other parents at my table. We laughed about the things our children had done, because what else can you do? I've talked to several parents of children who are blind, and we have our own connections and camaraderie but not like this. Sitting across the table from the faces of parents who look as tired as me, and have stories similar to mine, I can see how important it is to have this contact.

Gia is sitting on the floor asking "what's that?" repeatedly, while she flips through flash cards. She holds them to her eyeball and I have no clue how she sees any of it with the tiny vision she does have. She's hitting the bed and semi-yelling "nooooOOOooOOoooooooo," with every word I sing out loud, as I type.

We're trying to figure this out. We're trying to find the right rules, actions and behavior. We're trying not to lose our shit. Well, I'm trying not to lose my shit.

2011: Project 365- GiGi

2011-02-03T13:26:00.000-08:00

In 2010 I participated in a Flickr inspired 365 day photo project and chronicled GiGi for a year. One photo, every single day, for a year. There were times that I felt annoyed with the tediousness of having to edit, post and share. It wasn't until I had gotten to the end of the year and began to edit my photos that I realized how perfect each and every one of them were, because of the subject. I found the week, the exact week, where GiGi started to become this little girl. I spent every day with her (with the exception of a weekend for my birthday and another - which still, by the way - had pictures that the sister helped me with) and if I had not done this project I would have never been able to tell you which month it was that her hair seemed longer, or that her face became thinner and her legs hung closer to the ground when she sat upon a park bench. August. August is the month her face morphed into a little girl and shed the image of a teeny toddler.

The 365 Project taught me a lot about my daughter and myself as a parent. I learned about this craft, this photography. There were times that I felt bored with the types of images that were taken, because there were indeed times when her sleeping face, perched upon a pillow were all I could snap before the clock struck midnight and my camera turned into a pumpkin. I hated that for days on end I would have to decide on whether or not to use the photo I had taken of her with my cell phone while she was brushing her teeth/ smacking the TV/ having a tantrum in time-out town was better than the one of her sleeping that I snapped with Nina Nikon. I loathed that those were my choices. So I put them off. I put off editing those photos and posting them until I had a pile of images to sort through.

When I looked at my set of photos and the last one read "day 211/365" I nearly pissed myself. Collecting images and sorting through my various eJournal entries in my Word Docs and figuring out how to mash them together without my head exploding was proving to be a massive challenge. Alas, I did it. I put on my big girl pants and followed through on a project I had so much fun doing at times, and whose final product I was sure, positive, I would love. Looking through the folders clearly marked with the date the image was taken proved to be a lot easier, and A LOT more time consuming that I had initially imagined, but it was doable.

I found the folders, one day after the next, with a mere 4 or 5 photos in each one, 3 out of those 5 blurry or over exposed and began to see the bigger picture. She was asleep in those photos, but on the other side of her little hands clasped together was a mound of textbooks. I didn't take her out and create some set/stage for a mini photo shoot because I was studying. I was in school. I fell asleep before I finished my online geography assignment, or wrote a paper on violence in the media. What I captured in those images wasn't just a little girl growing up, but myself growing with her. Those images reflect what *our* life was like in 2010, not just hers. Sometimes life was sloppy and tired and forgetful. Other times, our life was organized and blissful. There were days when I couldn't express (in words) to someone - or myself - how much loved her and a photo was the only choice I had left. The photos splashed humor and talent all over the place and punched me in the gut with irony sometimes. They captured firsts. They shut the door on lasts.

I love my kid. I love her more than anyone on the planet and I feel so lucky to have a record of what each day was like with her, for one entire year.

...and I want that feeling again.

This year, my 365 day project has gotten off to a mediocre start. At least, I thought this year had started that way, but yesterday I had a moment of clarity with regards to this whole thing. I knew that I wanted a challenge, something that I could push myself to do - raise the bar. So I've decided that while having a set of print for myself is an amazing gift, I want Gia to have a set as well. Whether there is any improvement in vision or not, I'm confident that large print may be a reading option in her life. I'm hopeful. Even if I'm completely wrong there is always the option to have things Brailled for her. This year, I've begun to make each image representative of how our day went sot hat I can look back and remember it. For GiGi, I've decided to tailor my entries to her, and her alone, and include what the image looks like so that she will have a better understanding of the photo.

I'm excited. Thrilled, really, to finally know how to get into this years project. I won't beat myself up for not posting every day, because chances are, I *won't* post every single day. I have school, and homework, and the park, and dinner...and story time, and a million other things to do and sometimes I won't make it to editing or writing and posting each day. It doesn't mean that I didn't capture a moment and that I don't have something brilliantly personal to share with my daughter. The pressure stays at bay this way. I'll try to give myself a short term goal of having a month unprocessed at a time and no more, but with today's date being February 3, 2011, I suppose I've already slipped up. Que sera, that's what this weekend is for.

... so with that, let the project commence!

(a visual sneak peek...)

day 23/365: 'round about midnight

2011-02-02T09:48:00.001-08:00

day 23/365: 'round about midnight, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

Day 23:

You sit by the window kicking your feet in rhythm with the music that's dancing around - back&forth- swinging through your ears. Dancing. Dancing as if it were 1956 and you are hearing Miles Davis' record "Round About Midnight," for the first time. You are in utter bliss the first time yoiu hear his melody 'Bye Bye Blackbird.' However, it's not 1956. Not even close. The year is 2011 and while it's the first time you've listened to this album you are no stranger to Davis. You go way back.

You could hum 'Blue in Green' before you could say "I love you."
In fact, if you could have said I love you at that that, I bet my life you would have said it to that very song.

My darling, you enjoy MIles davis more than anyone else ever could and this look explains that. Your eyes are closed and instead of being pinched shut they carefully squeeze together as if to examine his carefully placed notes. You dissect its color - it's tone. Like a lover of food critiques each flavor that caresses their palate you too have an innate ability to discern this brilliance from that one.

The light pours into the room like smoke and fills the air, surrounding you, circling you. It rests on your face, your skin. It sit's in silence with its ear pressed to yours, swaying this way and that to the lullaby of this song. It would peacefully fall into a sleep of dreams and dreams if it weren't for the unmistakable pounding of your heart. Miles makes your heart pound. You - make - my- heart pound. I watch both of you , the light and your body, sitting by the window and I'm afraid to break your silence. At this moment, there is nothing else in the world for you, but the music.

Thirty: A rambling

2010-10-31T00:48:00.001-07:00

It's 12:01 am and like a child who waits up for their Santa Claus or Easter Bunny to arrive and bring them a surprise; I too wait up for something. I've anticipated this moment for the past year. I've dreaded it, loathed it, loved it, tried to lose weight for it, planned a party for it, stopped planning a party for it, and waited up for it.

I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for today.

It is October 31, 2010, and I am officially thirty years old.

For some odd reason I had half expected to turn into something at this magical midnight, but much to my amazement it feels like New Years Eve 1999. Do you remember that year? Everyone sat around and anticipated the end of the world at the stroke of midnight, but nothing happened. People stayed the same. The weather stayed just as it was 13 seconds prior to the time changing from 1-9-9-9 to 2-0-0-0. Just as I sat and watched the clock on that new Years Eve - preparing in my mind for a potential doomsday, but neglecting to lift a finger to change it - I sit in my pajamas, wipe Gia's drool off of my arm, and wait while the clock ticks still, and doomsday never comes.

I am thirty, and I can't stop saying it.

Some people make lists of things they want to do before their fateful thirty arrives. I hadn't really thought of it all that much until now. Do I have a list of things I feel that I should have accomplished before thirty?

*I wish my ass wouldn't have brought me into this age bracket at this size.
*I wish I would've been stronger, sooner.

-There are things however, that I am happy to have done. Places that I am happy to have traveled and people that move me all the time.

+My daughter, as most people say about their little ones, has changed my life.
+The family I have, though trying, and stressful as we all may be in our interactions at times - loves me, and I them - no matter what.
+I have made three of the very best friends a girl could ever want or deserve to have.
+I've seen more bands than my 16 year old hands could have ever prayed for in those days.
+I've met a legend.
+I've fallen in love.
+My book has begun ...metaphorically and physically.
+I'm committed to school.
+I've suffered.
+I learn something, every. single. day.
+My passport has been used.
+I've done things to make my parents blush.
+I've given.

I am done with my twenties and thank-my-stars, I have taken enough photos to remember the best times and retrace my steps of the even better times.

When Gia turned one I cried because my little girl was finished being a baby. I cried a few minutes ago for reasons quite similar. I wasn't upset that she was growing into someone new and older, but there was something heartbreaking about having to say goodbye to a time she'll never get back. My twenties are the same. I'm trying not to be completely bummed that they are over, because the events that occurred in those years were the events that established who I am and who I love at this very moment in time. Still, I feel like there is some apprehension to turning thirty. Maybe the reason that so many of us (please, please let me be right - that there are MANY of "us" and that I am not imagining all of this)are frightened by this particular age is because of the responsibility it brings with it. I'm no longer in my twenties, thus I am required to be more focused and stable than I've ever been in my life, because who wants to watch a thirty-something fuck-up left and right? No one. People look past the mishaps in your twenties and write off the stupidity to acts of capricious youth. In your thirties, people just write you off as a fuck-up. That's a lot of pressure in my book.

If you're reading this and you think that I should shut up and eat cake, then high-5. I wish I didn't over analyze things sometimes, but I do. That is me.

It's 12:40am and I'm 40 minutes into being thirty years old. It's 12:40 am and I've "seen Santa" and "checked out what the Easter Bunny left me," and if it's all right with you, I'm going to cozy up to a little girl who held my hand today and called me "Mommy." I promise to spend this birthday both lamenting my twenties and saying Cheers! to my thirties.

Thirty will be easier to handle with sweet little breath on my cheek and a finger in my eye. Thirty will be more interesting with 3 am trips to the potty with Gia to pee, instead drunken twenty something nights filled with 3 am trips to the potty to puke.

-m

My Relationship is Over

2010-09-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

My Relationship is Over
Dear Political Science,

These types of conversations are never easy so it might be best for you to just sit there and take it like a subject.

I think the inevitable is here and we should probably break up. When Im with you, I think of other things like English and that sexy new guy Math. I know, I know, I said I was really into you, but I think the honeymoon is over. Sure, we have great times here and there, like yesterday when we locked eyes during the discussion of the tenth amendment and the courts giving states their rights again. There was also the time that we shared a video on the subject of how the federal government nationalized the Alabama National Guard, so that two African American students could attend the University of Alabama. Maybe it was the Bobby Kennedy or JFK on the big screen that really put that *spark* there, but it was magical nonetheless. I still don't understand why the State national guard had to receive executive orders to be a NATIONAL state nat'l guard, and you talk yourself in circles when explaining. I need more from you.

The bottom line is that you are smothering me. Every night when I get home from hanging out with Geog, and Eng, and Algebra, you're like, "What the f*ck? Where have you been? I have so many things to explain to you right now. In fact, I wrote them down and I want you to check out sixty pages worth..of my feelings, of what makes me...ME." *yawn* I think we need to have more of a "closed book" relationship if you know what I mean. You're so emotional and long winded.

When you talk, I'm listening to other people.

When you quiz me on what you've just said, I freeze up because halfway through reading your letters (it seems like you write books, not letters), I start thinking about other more important things. Chips. M&M's. Bad breath. The new season of Brothers & Sisters. My daughter.

That's another thing. You don't care about my child. I mean, I thought when I entered into this relationship with you, that things would be intense, but I had no idea that you would suck the life out of me. Let's face it, Gia comes first and at this point you are trying to push against that. Unacceptable.

There is something else I need to tell you. Last night, after I put my pajamas on and let my hair down, and you crawled into bed beside me and opened up your book looking for a little action.... I was secretly reading an In Touch magazine while you stared up at me with your big blue words. I'm not even ashamed. Sure, this is an awful venue to say things like this, but had you made it a little more exciting in those moments where my guard was down and your book was open, maybe I wouldn't have had to balance the checkbook or read magazines while you were...well, you know what you were doing. (by the way, seeing how many 'post-its' you could hang from your index, stopped being funny/cute weeks ago.)

While I'm confessing, last week - while you were away in my backpack - I logged into online algebra and spent the night doing it until we asleep. That's not all. Last Thursday, when I told you we would spend time together, and then at the last minute I said I was tired....? The truth is, I hammered out a quickie English paper. it was fast, and good, and it turns out, I got an A. Maybe that's the problem. I'm more of an English kind of girl - creative and spontaneous - and you are more of a fly by the seat of bookshelf kind of ...whatever. I'd say person, but you're so stiff its like you're not human.

We've been doing this dance for some time, and I think that it might be best to ride it out, just until our little semester, Fall 2010, grows up and spreads its own wings. After all, we need to set a good example. When our semester is gone, I'm going to clean its things out of the house and put a gym in its place like other mama-students with empty nest syndrome do. Who knows, maybe I will adopt another semester. One from a foreign country. A friend of mine says that a lot of little classes are homeless and I would like to open my home to a whole semester if I can. French 25, Spanish 101....

So, I will try to see you as little as possible until December 16th. Maybe We can just keep our conversation to minimum and have that Professor on campus be our mediator.

Always,

Megg
Posted by

You, You.....you follower.

2010-07-21T09:59:00.000-07:00

Hey Kids! I changed my blog to Mama Maraca which means that if you haven't started following me there, you may have missed the last 10 or so posts. Hopefully you will stop rolling your eyes and say "oh okay, we should follow her freshly named blog and not his one, because she PROMISES to blog a lot more."

Promises.

day 88/365 + Oso De Oro

2010-04-29T08:15:00.001-07:00

day 88/365 + Oso De Oro, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

There is a park, in Fresno, that has handicap access. There are swings for people who are in need of wheelchair access, and ramps and things to engage all of those children in need of a park that - isn't - like the others. A park that welcomes them.

Included in this park, are a maze and tunnel, which was made entirely with the enjoyment of visually impaired people in mind.

Fucking awesome, right?

Right.

For nearly 3 years, Gia and I have popped up at all kinds of parks and tried out hand at fun. Some days are quite a bit more successful than other days. Like with anything in this life, finding a fit is a welcome opportunity, but finding a fit when you really need that extra helping hand - is like christmas/easter/thanksgiving pie/valentine chocolates all rolled into one. I couldn't believe that there was this little treasure trove of play hiding in plain sight the whole time I was looking for every park, BUT, it.

...and then my child was pushed down the slide, meanly, by some brat with a forever-frowning mother encouraging him. Here she was, in the mecca of happiness and tactile love, and some little ass was ruining it.

A public park - a community park- for all kids to play on, but specifically made accessible to those with specific needs. I got it. I get It. I just thought it was fucked up that this absolutely able-bodied, wonderfully healthy little child was mowing down small happy-smiling-lovey-dovey kids with his impatience. And the kicker? When I smiled and said, "no no honey, we dont push others just because we want to go down the slide. We wait turns, and show kindness," I was greeted with a stern look from his mother, who rolled her eyes and encouraged her son to indeed come down the slide - AS my child was descending without her consent and still ON the slide.

I wanted to punch her in the small brain, and then slap her tiny insensitive heart.

Like a bus or BART, or train, or any other public space we must share..... it was open to any and everyone. But unlike those other public places, I noticed that a great many parents refused to extend the skill of a little common courtesy on to their children. The courtesy, that gets up for someone pregnant, elderly, or disabled, and lets them have the seat, because they might just need it more.

Gia moves well, and might appear to be just like all the other kids, which she is, only she cant see as well...or really...at all, but she was using her cane that day.

Insensitive, right?

can I get an amen?

taken: 3.29.10
posted 4.29.10 oi!

Coffee break/ Reality Check

2010-04-22T11:12:00.000-07:00

(see, I even have time to do things like I used to do, ie.... take photos of myself in a public bathroom)

I never would have thought that this would be my saving grace, my little escape from everyday, and especially “school” days, but it is. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I wake up at 5 am, hit snooze, hit snooze, hit snooze yet again, and then kiss GiGi before really waking up and getting ready for school. Im nearing the end of my second semester, and as with most things I get involved with, I am bored. Don’t get me wrong, there is a certain stick-to-itiveness present that I simply did not have in my late teens when I gave school the ol’ college try (get it? College? College-try? *snort*), but still yet, I’m done with this semester. In my head, I am over these four months, a month early.

In between my first class, which goes from 6:30-7:45am, and my second class which begins at 9:30 am, I have a gazillion minutes to entertain myself. In the past, I would suffer through the terrible coffee at City College and eagerly await the fascinating classes in store for me throughout the day. Now…I am on to this whole “coffee house” luxury kick that helps saves my sanity with an increasing attention problem during school. For $4 I can have a cup-o-joe, a refill, and a reduced fat berry coffee cake thingamajigy. There is so much more to this whole coffee break siesta that I hadn’t realized until this morning. Aside from the general overheard chatter and distractions that fascinate me, I get a break from school, thinking about all of the crazy issues that may be going on, and my family.

Sounds pretty mean right? Forgetting about problems is normal but forgetting about family? That’s fucked up. But! (there is a but) it is in this disconnection, this freedom to play word games, or write blogs or even pick up a magazine and thumb through it, that I am able to appreciate my life even more. When I am at home, there is a huge sense of obligation, and whether or not I actually get to edit photos and play games with the babe, still doesn’t allow for a total escape from the pressure that goes into just….living. Does that make sense?

When I am at home, I am a mother who just so happens to be single. I am a mother who goes to school and takes on way to many classes to be a straight-A student, and who worries constantly about grabbing a grade lower than that initial letter of the alphabet. My bed sees my body but never gets to have me resting, no matter what it may seem like from the outside. There is a three year old there who love me and I her, but requires an amount of attention Im uncertain of. The balance of pushy vs organic perplexes me almost daily and I struggle to have the continued confidence that I am being the best parent I can be. My roommates are my parents and as I approach thirty, I feel somewhat loserific at times, even though deep down, it hurts that I need them so much right now. Being in that home transports me back to the times when I was lost, and sad, and waiting for a big new world out there to make me smile. Im not sad, or lost, but I miss that big ol’ world when I scratch my forehead and hatch-mark my way to a more fitting life. My old life, with a new person in tow.

With a cup of coffee, and a berry thingamajig, I am nothing but a patron and observer of conversations and lives I am a part of for 10 minutes at a time.
It frees me, allows me to play, read, say, and do what I want to. For an hour and a half, I am just a patron. Nothing more/nothing less, that is, unless I want it to be.

Today, as I sat with my phone in my hands, deleting photos to make room for new applications, I noticed that I was having a hard time deleting images of my kid. My gorgeous child and her face were all over my phone, and for some reason, I couldn’t seem to shake her photos. I’ve downloaded them to my computer and even uploaded some to the web, but I couldn’t manage to take them off of my phone because I started to miss her. Sitting in a Starbucks, engorged with freedom and absence strings to a busy life for an hour, I began to miss my daughter so much it almost hurt my teensy, rapid beating heart.

What the f—

What was I downloading? Sponge bob tic-tac-toe games for Chloe to play with, and alphabet recognition apps for GiGi. I suppose I am never really free from who I am, but at least for a short bit of time, twice a week, I get to have my own time, free from judgmental looks, or pressure filled sentences. Calls from the next room that rock “Mommy!” and “Mama” with high pitches and infectious giggles can overwhelm at times, but leave a sweet tasting memory inside a little box I get to open when I am away from GiGi and the every-days, of being her mom.

Day 23/365 + My Turn

2010-01-24T10:59:00.001-08:00

Day 23/365 + My Turn, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

We took a break from studying today to get a little sunshine on our shoulders. (yes, that was a John Denver reference. Funny looking? yes. Could he play a mean audience of hill folk? hell yes!)

My two nieces and I took Gia to the little kid side of the park so that she could shake off her cabin fever and practice her exploration skills.

Gia. loves. the. slide.

I find that I am so excited for her to go up the steps, find her seat, and then slide down, that I rush her sometimes. I automatically assume she is approaching a hurdle that she doesn't want to deal with, so I try to guide her along. The truth is that she just finds her own way to comfortably get from the bottom of the slide to the step again. I'd love to keep my overzealous slide parenting in check, but I'm too excited.

GiGi climbed up the steps, and went over to the top of the mustard yellow slide and sat down. She waited and waited, so proud of what she could do and sat there, singing.

She wouldn't go down the slide until she was ready, and I wasn't going to force her.

Its little moments like these, when the child behind her looks impatient and bothered by the need to wait, and the parents of other children convince them to slide on the "other"slide because "someone is already on that one," that I realize I can either feel like the bad parent .....or explain why we are taking longer. I wonder if I have to explain why. If I should share our personal characteristics or not. I always wonder that. I don't ever want to get into the habit of saying "Well, my daughter is Blind, so it's a new thing, this going at the slide alone - business," or whatever the case may be, and then have my child be embarrassed.

At this age, I just go on how I feel at the moment. How, open, I feel. Today. I felt calm and peaceful, happy to share her success. The grandmother at the park, with the impatient (but polite) little boy waiting for GiGi to go down the slide was quite impressed with my child's success. We briefly exchanged words, and then went our separate ways to chase around our little ones. Ten minutes or so later, she came back up to me- still at the slides- and thanked me for giving GiGi so many opportunities, and for letting her take her time to explore this noisy/fun/scary/odd/cold/wet/amazing place on her own terms, at her own time. She said her grandson is Autistic and he too spent time getting to know the playground, and it wasn't easy.

You never know what kind of whacky -ass things people will say when you mention that your child is blind so sometimes it's easier to just NOT say it. Then again, sometimes a stranger will support you in the nicest and most unexpected ways.

Day 17/365 + On the Floor of a Starbucks Coffee Shop

2010-01-19T00:19:00.001-08:00

Day 17/365 + On the Floor of a Starbucks Coffee Shop, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

My child decided to break down and lose her sh*t square in the middle of a Starbucks coffee shop. I was driving home from a mutual meting place between her father and I, when we ran out of beverages in the car.

Sunday. My twin nieces birthday, and a storm-a-brewing while I try to pick ip Gia then get back in time for birthday dinner/cake/presents.

As I walked into Starbucks with her tiny hand in mine, she dropped to the floor and screamed "SHOPPING CART!" Evidently, when we are not in the car, and we have arrived at an unfamiliar locale, we should be in a shopping cart, if "we" are a two year old. Its been a while since she threw a pubic display of shenanigans, so I calmly told her that I understand what she wanted but that we weren't going to get to ride in a shopping cart.

What I really wanted to say was, "Are you f*cking kidding me, dude? We are 30 minutes from home and my knuckles are white from driving through the movie Twister. Jut let mommy grab a quick skinny hazelnut latte and a cookie for you, and we'll be out of this place."

What I actually said was "anytime you're done, gia" as a gaggle of cold/thirsty CHP officers passed me, some nodding with empathy and some glancing with judgment.

As she composed herself, and I tried not to piss myself, we wobbled to the bathroom. It was there that I realized my last few days of photos had sucked and I needed a day 17 quick!. Despite the tear in her eye, I managed to get a smiling babe as I sang over the urgent knocks on the door (from a very annoying woman who didnt realize she could use the mens room also), and snapped this Day 17, with my pants around my ankles and the crinkle of a toilet seat cover underneath me.

Thanks for the visual?

...you're welcome.

Day 9/365 + X-y-z

2010-01-10T23:43:00.001-08:00

Day 9/365 + X-y-z, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

I visited my ladies this weekend, and because of the cranky, creepy, nasty weather, I showed up a little late for fun at the Bay Area Discovery Museum in Sausalito, CA. We only had a but an hour to play but it was enough to watch Gia and Trace (and Lea!) run around the tot spot, and catch a concert put on by our kids, on the drum/ xylophones.

Gia isnt usually a "kid" person. Like most toddlers, she isnt really into sharing or playing WITH others, and most times, not even near them. This weekend was different however. She was delightful and really not very whiny or stubborn at all. At one point in the evening, she even gave Trace a few kisses.

The big girl is growing up,and no matter how hard I try, I just cant believe it.

Taken: 1.9.10
Uploaded: 1.10.10

Day 8/365 runner up + Bonk

2010-01-09T11:28:00.001-08:00

Day 8/365 runner up + Bonk, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

I like to think GiGi can do anything. In fact, I know she can. There are times, however, when you watch your blind child navigate herself around some place and wonder how on earth she is so fearless and magical.

We went to the park this morning and after I picked her up, placed her on the giant slide and let her go down after she counted 1,2,3 or ready-steady-freddy, I decided it was time for me to show her how to get UP the slide. I picked her up the first 10 times so she was addicted to sliding. True to GiGi's personality, she slid down, and landed on her butt every single time. I'm so glad its that black bark looking cushion -y stuff. She even bonked her head on the edge of the slide everytime she landed. I panicked the first time or too, she said "sliiiiiiiide!" and picked herself up.

When she was good and excited about sliding down, I took her hand and led her to the steps. She was not super jazzed about actually having to do the work herself to get to the slide. i'm sure part of it was a new awareness to the height of the slide, and her exact placement in space.

its. high. for. a. kid.

I walked up the steps with her, each time telling her 'there you go" and "you did it"...or even a little "good job, baby!" I helped her find the bars and poles to hold onto (they reallllllllly need to make MORE bars in these things. too much open space for someone with any kind of disability. just sayin'). She got the hang of the whole walking up and sliding down thing very quickly. I followed her up 10 times, each time doing a little less for her, but always letting her know I was right there.

When I finally let go, she did it all on her own. She wasn't nervous, or scared, or whiny at all. She was proud, and impressed with her own bravery and accomplishment. I could see it on her face.

She sat down and yelled "let's go!!!!!!" and as she slid down, I cried, with all my maternal pride.

*late in posting*
taken: 1.8.10
posted: 1.9.10

Day 7/365 + What I Love About You

2010-01-08T09:21:00.001-08:00

Day 7/365 + What I Love About You, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

I set my magazine on the bed, after grabbing the mail this afternoon. Gia stumbled upon it and said "read the book mama." I let her flip through the pages while I sang to her. (couldn't think up a story on the spot, and besides, she was jumping up and down anyway.)

The magazine page she flipped to was an article titled "What I Love About You," which I thought was fitting because I could fill endless pages with what I love about Gia.

I love:

*when I tell her "cows say Moooo, kittens say Meow, lions say Rooooar, Dogs say arf-arf-arf" - and she replies, "girls say, girls say, Hey baby - hey baby- hey! hey baby-ba-bay" (ala Gwen Stefani)

*that she jumps up and down when she has to poop

*when she wakes up in the morning, searches for her teapot, and upon finding it says "i love you teapot."

*that as Im writing this, she is singing - SINGING - "I go, I go, I goooooo poop baby."

*how she reaches one arm up in the air and runs her fingers up and down it, when she's asleep - just like people say I do.

*her affinity for soup.

*the talent she has in removing every book from her book shelves, faster than I can blink.

*that she knows who I am when I've said nothing, and all she's done is touch my hand.

*that I don't have to tell her that beauty isnt on the surface, but what makes up a persons character and personality. She already knows.

*when she whispers "I love you sooooo much" into my ear before she falls asleep

*that she's my daughter.

How about a date? (an up-date you perves!)

2009-10-19T22:31:00.000-07:00

It's been a few weeks since I posted anything and I'd love to flaunt my folder titled "ramblings." on my hard drive, but I won't. All you would find in it would be 8,000+ blogs and stories, half ass started and nowhere near completion. There is something that prohibits me from being able to obsess over more than a few things at a time. Right now I'm filled to the brim baby, filled to the brim with school work, photography, and a little something called parenting. I'm trying my hardest not to fail at at least two of those things.

Prepare yourself for my blog-slutting. The posts will flow like wine.

This semester is halfway over and I am in love with all of my classes. It doesnt really feel like hard work, because I am excited about these classes and I take pride in what I'm doing. I wish I could go back in time to slap the shit out of a younger me, and tell me to pay attention to the education that would have been easier balanced without a child, but alas...I can't. Going to school when you're nearing age 29 (and lets face it...29 is WAY closer to 30 than twenty)is easier in some ways and tremendously more difficult in other ways. On the one hand, I'm older and more focused. I can sit in class and learn, while snarling at the talkative/texting/more-concerned-with-eating-in-class-or-dating-in-class brats. This makes me sad that the majority of my classes contain oodles of students who are more concerned with standing in a group next to a Nathans Hot Dog cart chest bumping and hi-5'ing, than learning about things like Film, or English skills, or Algebra, or the root of music. The fact that I am asking so much of my family, to help watch my daughter while I am at school, is part of the "suck factor" in going to school at my age. When you're almost twenty-nine, and talking about the girl who sits next to you in Film 2B, or the extra credit you got on a simple quiz...nobody really has time to hi-5 you or really give you the kudos you want. So you find yourself sitting in class, raising your hand for every question, and scanning the room after the teacher verbally pats the top of your head.

It's a vicious cycle.

Regardless of others, I am thoroughly happy in school and value this late opportunity.

GiGi seems to be happy with me at school even though she cries when I leave. I suppose that's a normal reaction since I really haven't left her during the day, since she was six months old. It also helps that she has started going to school at the Early Start center once a week. So now we're both in school, and I'm totally under the impression that she thinks when I say "bye bye, mommy's going to school now," she thinks I'm headed to the land of blocks, screaming kids, applesauce cups, and jungle gyms.

*here she is, at her school.

****

Informative Dream: aka- "you're single!"

2009-08-29T10:26:00.000-07:00

When you fall asleep at night and drift away into the 'here' and 'there' of where the mind takes you, sometimes you travel into togetherness. last night, I dreamed of Robert Pattinson (the sex machine from Twilight and my fantasies), and Sam Trammell (Sam, from HBO's True Blood). This tells me two things: I watch too many vampy things these days, and also that I am single. or lonely. Or craving 'the sex'. Im not sure which one of those it isn't, but I do know that when you sleep until 10am on a Saturday morning while a toddler and a seven year old are waiting to start the weekend, isn't a good sign.

In my dream, Sam was akward, annoying and in my face - much like how I can find him portrayed on True Blood. There was a boring, silly girl in my dream as well, who wanted the attention of Rob. Rob who was just Rob. In my dream I knew he was Rob Pattinson and he knew I was a single mother in college. He knew where I lived and what I was really like, and he chose to be me with me anyway. Sounds nice right?

wrong. I mean right. Right for the dream but a horribly upsetting reality to wake up to without that night in shining teeth to whisk me away.

I was fine yesterday and the day before and the day before that. Life has its general ups and downs and Im sure with Aunt Flo taking a smoke break before she heads around the corner to my neck of the woods, Im headed on a "down" slope. There are some lingering issues that bother me and that I need to work out, but nothing that ruined my day(s). This f*cking dream ruined my Saturday.

If it weren't for that dream, for the 9 hours of (off and on) sleep I got, for the 9 hours of blissful togetherness that felt very real - very lucid, I would not be sitting here pissed that I am alone. I'm upset that I obviously miss it much more than I care to realize and that this stupid fucking dream has illustrated my very need to connect with another grown individual on a romantic level. Err, romantic, yeah, that's it. It sucks.

I keep trying to remind myself that I have no room for dating even if I wanted to, but it's not helping. Ho hum.

Stick me with you best shot (Fire Away!)

2009-07-29T23:17:00.000-07:00

Lame attempt at a Pat Benetar reference, I know, but it's all I've got. The day is almost over and I'm trying to tuck myself in early just like Gia did. At 4:30 in the afternoon, my little picky crumb muncher decided to beg for "dinnah." Felling guilty for providing such a suckfest of a morning to her, I obliged and by 5:30 pm (yes it takes me that long to "prepare" and not actually cook food) she had what she wanted sitting right there in front of her. Two helpings of vacuum fried banana chips, watermelon, macaroni, and ham - all of which were her suggestions. By 6 pm she was whining around, speaking inaudible phrases, so I asked her what she wanted.

"Sleep mama. Bed. Nigh-Nigh"

Dude, I love this whole talking thing and even if we showed up late to the talk-party, I'm still glad we're here.

So, in she crawls, underneath my perfectly white sheets which I bought in hopes of making my bedroom brighter and absolutely disregarded the fact that I have a toddler, who co-sleeps. I used a box and a half of wipe (or so it seemed) to clean her off and then she fell fast asleep after a reading of Where the Wild Things Are(the only non-braille book that she will currently let me read to her without her head popping of and spinning around in anger). When babe gets a 6:30pm bedtime, mama gets an early one as well. My gol is to be asleep BEFORE Chelsea handler so that I get some actual rest, and avoid eating the full contents of my fridge while I stay awake anxiously thinking about what will be, and what will come of the blood work we had done this morning.

Like a good younger sister, I convinced Erin (five years my gorgeous but appropriately titled elder)to come with Gia and I to the Quest Diagnostics Lab to have Gia's blood drawn. I'm not sure what other sister in the world would sign up for this gig, knowing all to well that the only thing she can do is pick up flying shoes from a pissed tot kicking them across the room, and hold my stare when I wince in pain. She's either really, really demented and into pain, or so incredibly supportive that it hurts my heart.

Two gentlemen in white coats walked into the room and spoke with 148 lbs of confidence about what they were testing for and how everything would be okay. This pig-tailed, 50's inspired glasses, lifesaver colored leggings, smile wearing child would be no match for them. You could just tell that they had seen so many kids that one more, even mine, wouldn't phase them with her thrashing around and crying.
I held her tight, as they instructed, which made me think that I was giving her a thousand bruises while at the same time playing a mat-less version of Twister with my kid. Her legs were folded and squeezed between my knees. Her right arm was free from my grips until she screamed, moved and the blood flow stopped. We switched arms and I tucked her right arm underneath mine while they smooshed and squeezed her left arm.

Have you had such a blood draw with your children yet? It sucks giant King Kong sized ape/gorilla/monkey balls.

Gia was better than I had anticipated, and even though she cried and wiggled around, she also settled down a lot more than last time. No one was interested in singing Raffi with me, so I alone tried to carry a tune and it worked some of the time. I kept my cool, for her, to a certain extent. At one point she stopped flailing around and tried to rest her head. With tears streaming, she said "S-s-s-ssorry Mm-m-mama."

yeah.

I cried. White lab coat guy #1 quivered his lip and let out whimpers, while shushing her and saying "It's okay baby." What kind of a child apologizes for getting her blood drawn or for thinking she was either behaving bad or had done something and this was her punishment. I'll tell you what kind of child, a phenomenal child. When the draw was over, the two men put cotton balls and tape on her arms as fast as possible, but she ripped it off before it stuck to her. My decision to put a white tank top on her was, at that point, a big mistake. The blood shed on her new shirt, coupled with the screaming, and blood stained skin/fingers, sent the children we passed in the waiting room, into an uproar. They're worst fears materializing I suppose. I'm sure it sounded like we were filming a horror movie back there, minus the Raffi song Five Little Frogs.

Gia was pretty clingy the rest of the day, and even took a nap when we got home. I don't know how the fate worked that one out, we specially since I fed her ice cream for lunch. Yes,I'm teaching my child to eat her emotions. Ish.

The funny part of the whole experience/day is that she refused to put her arms down. All day long she walked around like a robot. Or barbie. I'm not sure why, but at least it's over and the results are that much closer to being here, right?

(All day....)

Well hello there, me.

2009-07-28T22:17:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I blogged here frequently and I have to say, I miss it. While blogging at Babble has been fun, and writing Love is Blind has been most helpful, I will say goodbye to the blog when the calendar strikes August. I suppose Babble broke up with me because I didn't give them or my readers the time they deserved, but we're moving on. I will still be blogging for Strollerderby which is a good sign that babble and I will still be friends. *ps- how much does Strollerderby rock, anyway? The answer is quite a fucking lot.*

I'm hoping that some of my readers from Love is Blind will be following me over here to see how my meanderings differ but still include some random f- words and an immense love for my child. Besides, I can update this blog from my phone. How about them technology apples?!

In all v. sincere honesty, there is some serious shit going down in my life and I feel like I need the option to either share it, or hide in a cave watching Gossip Girl reruns and avoiding the blogosphere while eating my weight in reduced fat pringles & cold, canned nacho cheese dip. I need these options more than you guys know.

School starts in a few weeks and I couldn't be happier about the classes I get to jump back into school with, or the days in which I get to attend. For a while there I didn't think I was going to get ANY classes, but that's an entirely different post to vent in. School is something I really want to focus on and I'm just not brave enough to juggle a kagillion things like lots of other people can. I'm simple.

Okay, so are you ready for some good news? I will have Chloe (*big sister to GiGi) here for a month starting this Thursday. How happy is my face right now? How happy? Reallllly happy. The smile is partially due to the Beringer Merlot in my glass, and also because I am thrilled to cupcake crumbs, to get to spend time with this little girl for such an extended period of time. Lea and I are taking Trace, GiGi and Chloe to Disneyland this weekend and I'm doing my best to keep this a secret until we get in the car. I've never gotten such a cool surprise before, so I thought I would rip off my sister Erin, and use her guerrilla like parenting skills and plop the kid into the car and spill the secret. What could be better, right?

Are you sitting down? I have some bad news. You'd think that hearing the news that your child is blind might be some of the most awful news you could hear, until you hear that your kid has pituitary dwarfism and, the Pièce de résistance, will be taking a nightly shot for years to come (at least 16 or 17 years). You try your hardest to figure out how to master these illnesses/diagnosis' and while you think your strolling along hand in hand with them, your childs endocrine system comes along on a fucking skateboard and mugs you. It steals your sense of comfort and control and beats the shit out of you and your kid with diabetes. Sure, sure, its all speculation and a 'maybe' right now, but if my gut had to decide it would say "Gia has diabetes."

I'm keeping track of her wet diapers, as per her endocrinologist, and the color is always clear and we are always out of pocket 10+ diapers a day. Gia is thirsty nonstop and water was one of her first and most used words. I'm almost positive that something is amiss with my miss.

That.... bums me out.

Bright and early tomorrow morning, Erin and I will be taking Gia to have her blood drawn (which is a complete three person job, full of restraints and everything) to shed light on these symptoms/coincidences. Im hoping for the best but I'm going to give my gut instinct a hug and try to welcome the outcome before it arrives.

She is growing so fast and sometimes I feel like Im so busy documenting her life that I dont take enough time to laugh and giggle with her more than I do. If I've got an hour I should take an hour to spend with her, and I dont.

bad mommy.

Here's to working on that, right?

Staring.

2009-06-13T09:59:00.001-07:00

squat, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

There are days that I find myself just staring at my child. Every little move she makes, so tiny, so cute. I cant keep from just watching her grow and explore.

can you blame me?

Words that Sting

2009-05-09T13:39:00.000-07:00

"I'd actually like to relax and get to have mothers day off too you know," my mother says.

My older sister Erin and I have decided to shop, buy, cook and clean the mothers day dinner for our mother. We are taking her to breakfast in the morning and have offered to take her out, say for a pedicure, etc, but our ideas have been shot down. Instead we have a tailor made day for her planned. None of the day involves relaxation on either of our part. Erins daughters are twins (11 yrs old) and M. (5 yrs old). My babe is 2 yrs old with a smile and penchant for tantrum flailing. Our day does not consist of anything but attempting to please our mother, the same as we have tried to do since we were younger.

At 28 and 33 years old, we are a little more than sick of feeling like nothing that we do matter to her. As mothers, we are tired of feeling like we shouldnt also get a day to relax.

Life works mysterious magic and the both of us are single mothers, not as valuable or worthwhile as our married other sisters. We both love our children more than anyone could understand, but it gets old- quick -hearing things like that from my mothers mouth.

There are no partners to high five us and say "good job!" Instead, we mop up on mothers day, twin single cinderellas, and fix the feast for a mother who doesnt seat us at the same big kid table as our siblings.

*rant over.

for now.

Like a blanket

2009-05-05T16:10:00.001-07:00

IMG_4542-2, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

Gia stopped to roll around in the grass yesterday. She giggled and smiled an wrinkled her nose when the sun hit her face and made it too hard for her to open her eyes. I love moments like this.

One Night Stands

2009-05-05T15:47:00.000-07:00

I've discovered that midnight snacking is equivalent to one night stand(ing). You're not quite sure what you want but you know that you want...something. It seems like a good idea at the time and so you indulge, but in the end you feel dirty. You stand back and say fuck, what did I just do?

I am said food slut and this weekend lea and I went to Havana (Cuban food not Cuba)and ate the place to pieces. Afterward - around 10'ish (?) we went for cocktails at the Lost Weekend and after 4 double dirty vodka martinis too many, I was kind of bummed. I want to lose weight, and I am, but the minor setbacks where I lose 6 ounces instead of 3 lbs in a week - piss me off. Im not feeling defeated or bad about myself. It's more like a feeling after a one night stand.

disappointed in the choice.

It was pleasant for a night but in the end, how did it really benefit my life? it didn't. So I midnight snack again and I think...it's one night, what can it hurt? Ah-ha. All those one night stands, I mean, midnight snacking add up and pretty soon you're out of control.

No, I didnt just get laid, but I did just indulge too much this week and a little last week so I can see where this is heading. Sort of reminded me of my habits in other areas at other times.

Mad at Grass

2009-03-22T11:29:00.001-07:00

DSC02073mad, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

Gia hates the grass, on her hands that is. I set her down to take a picture of her and thought it would be an awesome snapshot, given the color of the grass and the overcast sky....but alas, my kid freaked.

She

hates

grass

on

hands.

Silly me.

Day 80/ Slides and Wind

2009-03-21T23:08:00.001-07:00

Day 80/ Slides and Wind, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

Its hard to concentrate on the slide when you're Gia. At least, this is what I presume. She won't climb up the steps or anywhere near the slide in our backyard, but she will climb chairs, couches, beds, etc. It's odd, but understandable.

Today was a beautiful day that met it's doom when the gray clouds swooped in and the air turned fast and chilly on her cheeks. You know the scenes in movies where an ominous presence is about and cast picks up on it as the still breath turns to a gasp with the sudden change of temperature and speed? We felt that change today and it caught her like this. I... caught her like this.

Uploaded by urbanbrat89 on 21 Mar 09, 11.01PM PDT.

innocence above all

2009-03-20T18:11:00.001-07:00

innocence above all, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

She will be two in a few weeks...

Into the Mystic

2009-03-12T10:54:00.000-07:00

I have two children. One named Gia and the other named Music. Sure I didn't create one of those, but I feel like I am responsible for music. I am responsible for the care and nurturing of the music in our home and lives. What comes in and flourishes and how to keep it thriving.

I search through indexes and read up on favorite singers and bands all in the name of keeping Gia company. Some place music in a huge part of their life, and I am one of those folks. It has gotten me through some amazinngly horrendous times in my life and been the soundtrack to my misery, overwhelming happiness, and the stages of life in between. I want so much for music to be there for Gia in the same way, and I think it already has begun to do so.

She is so insatiable with music she finds appealing. You can just tell that she has found a favorite new song by the look on her face. I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's incredible to watch.

I recently whipped out the Van Morrison albums and put them on rotation. Maybe its the chilly weather after a series of gorgeously sunny days, and the faucet-like snotty nose that sits atop Gia's face, but i felt the need for something with soul and a sympathetic melody. Enter Van.

Van Morrison's album His Band and His Choir came up to play first. While I had hoped that she showed some love the the most wonderful song "I'll be your lover, too," she didn't. Her interest was brief at best. As Moondance crept up, she played with toys and continued to cry over her cold, etc. So, like any good mother,I skipped to Y favorite song on the album, "Into the Mystic." Ever her mothers daughter, she crawled to me and pulled herself onto my lap to cuddle with this permanent smile affixed to her face. We listened to it once and then she cried, so I turned it back on. And so began a love affair with one of my favorite Van Morrison songs. Six times in a row and I had to spice it up with a little Prince and The Slits. I can't show favoritism you know, so Prince and the Slits deserved a chance too.

I love this child. I endlessly adore her and her interest in music.

Day 63 / Goodbye 11.2

2009-03-07T10:14:00.001-08:00

Day 63 / Goodbye 11.2, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

I haven't written anything here for quite a while and it's been bothering me.

Music. Robot. Birthdays

2009-03-06T10:54:00.001-08:00

Music. Robot. Birthdays, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

I bought this adorable item off of etsy and thought it would be cute to put on cupcakes or gift bags, for guests. I've changed my mind, but I still love my new friends.

Day 35/ Calories

2009-02-04T21:38:00.000-08:00

35, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

February 4, 2009

Ah yes, Weight Watchers. I've been there before and thanks to giving myself a hug when things are down, with a big fat something unhealthy in hand, my ass is getting wider by the moment.

My insomnia *flares* up more these days and I tend to find myself eating salad to cope. Not bad to consume a simple salad, but at 4 am? yeah. eeks. Problems and what not.

So, I joined Weight Watchers again to help me out with the ass issues. See, Im already doing well. Im eating a 100 cal. candy. Not so bad at all...

Wish me luck in my goal to get BACK into my healthy food mode.

Day 34/ Resident

2009-02-03T06:33:00.000-08:00

34, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

I am resident #50,064 in town BFE.

Just take the dirt road on the left by the piggly wiggly, or something like that...

Day 33/ I am the Passenger

2009-02-02T15:24:00.000-08:00

33, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

"...and I ride and I ride and I ride.... " - Iggy Pop and The Stooges.

Great reference, but unfortunately it's not true. I always drive. ALWAYS. people just seem to like it when I drive, even though they complain (what seems like) nonstop.

I used to drive too fast and now I drive too slow. It's odd and my father is still impressed that I have changed. I have been pulled over for speeding more times than I can count and my actual ticket consumption has been small. Cleavage is a dirty little seductive bitch and Im glad. One ticket that I didn't get out of was a little pull-over sesh, Valentines Day. circa 2002? ish?

"Ma'am, are you aware that your license was suspended 6 months ago?"

Dude, I had no fucking idea that I lost my license. I was great at getting pulled over, but not at dealing with tickets. So.. alas, he took my license ans let me off with a Kleenex and no warning/ticket.

yeah. I was that girl. After I found out that my license was suspended, I stopped taking my car to work and I took a cab a few times. I also hitched a ride with a friend 2 hours BEFORE I needed to clock in, once or twice. I even bought a bike and took that to work in the mornings which was fun to ride through the industrial ghetto. I'm talking, chalk outline, lock the doors, don't-stay-too-long kind of ghetto. I don't think that I really have to tell you with a ghetto area like that to cruise through,that I eventually just started looking over my shoulder and driving to work anyway. See? I'm no good at being a passenger.

I'm uncomfortable and quite fidgety. If I am by chance a passenger in your car, you will notice me being bossy and controlling. I want to play with your buttons. I desire your window controls.

I. will. be. a . car. trip. nightmare.

My sister had a few errands to run today so i accompanied her. I grabbed 3 cameras and a book. I get THAT bored when Im not in control. haven't you noticed my pictures, and how most of them involve a seatbelt?

So here is my Day 33.... without a gas or brake pedal underneath it. Cool, eh?

Day 31/ Lovebirds

2009-01-31T23:28:00.000-08:00

31, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

Lovebirds

We are two lovebirds, mother and daughter, and I get sad thinking about the day that she tells me she hates me and storms to her room with her "I heart so-and-so" clad binder in her arms. I anticipate it, but am not thrilled about it.

I want moments like that, forever. Oh, how unrealistic I am.

Black Books and Post Whoreism

2009-01-31T02:12:00.000-08:00

An innocent evening of cleaning my daughters' closet turned into a cathartic cleaning of my past. Most of my things that I packed up when I left my old apartment to come here, are tucked away in storage out back. There are two boxes in Gia's closet that I never bothered to go through since they seemed to be old old pictures and books. As i was cleaning the closet tonight, I decided to see if I could toss anything in those boxes.

Pictures of a fatter me. pictures of a skinnier me. Pictures from when I was 16 years old and letter upon letter to myself from a sad state of mind. I found college textbooks from theatre classes and writing workshops. I found a mini pink accordion file with little scraps of paper inside of it. When I unleashed the rubberband and began to pull papers out, I noticed they all had numbers on them. Numbers and names of various people I had forgotten about until I read their names again. Some rang a bell and others had to be given a moment to shake a memory loose. The more I tossed papers in the trash the more I moved on to another paper. One by one I recalled a past lover, a forgotten evening or week or in some cases, month, and I threw them away.

Why the fuck have i been keeping those phone numbers and names all of these years? I'm glad that I had a tiny flashback but it hasnt changed my life from this moment on, for the better. Who cares about them?

Then i found my stack of notebooks so I set the rest of the phone numbers aside for the time being. I wondered why I would need to keep a planner for 1998.

I flipped through pages and pages and found nothing. It's possible it was a blank book but my head said otherwise. I know I wrote something in here, I thought. Flip-flip-flip. I see black ink in my old dramatic handwriting and I go back.

"open house this afternoon, must work"

flip again

"took pregnancy test today. Negative. I won't tell E. about this."

I suddenly remember a brief affair I had with E. and how casual I kept it. There was a point when I thought I could be pregnant and I took a test. When it came back negative I stopped seeing him altogether and never talked to him again. What a horrible young girl I was. That whole situation has been non-existent in my flashbacks of youth. Why would I forget that. How could I?

I flip some more and come across dates i scheduled and the names appear quick on the pages and my mind. If I had forgotten to write those 1-2 sentences here or there about someone, I don't really think i would have ever thought of them again.

"I love N. so intense that I'm scared"

a few months later.... "I'll never love anyone like this"

The dreamy girl bit goes on and on for several pages and over the course of several books actually. Siting on the floor I read through years and years worth of snippets on men and work issues. Whole entire pages devoted to shedding literary tears over not-so-ideal life events. Everything so happy until a few months after my 18th birthday. So much has happened and I can't quite figure out if Im happy that I documented it all or frightened by its presence in my home and life. Why did I think it was a good idea to write my life down?

Sorting through my words I realize that the most life altering times in my life were not written about with as great a detail as some of my exploits.

My attack.

My harming.

My child.

My 5 year on and off relationship that only a few even know about.

My honest emotions instead of just physical descriptions of attractive times.

This life I have now is so much more quiet and simple than things used to be for me. I wrote a lot about what I never thought I would have and what I secretly wanted on those pages. My fears that I would never find a person to love me for the insane chatty mess I was and am, and my disgust for the stupid shit I assumed I was destine to do.

Gia sleeps on my bed and even though we didnt get out of our pajamas today, I hate to think that this i something to be unhappy about. i read through all off my journals and loose papers and felt a horrible sense of desperation and unpleasantness in them. Why the fuck do I need to keep random pages that say 4 sentences about men I don't care about? It felt odd to have those papers in my hand, and Gia on my bed. I threw everything away. Not the journals of course, but the phone numbers and random list I made. All trashed. I owe it to my life now to get rid of at least some of my past to make room for the future.

Such a cathartic experience.

I've always been a sentimental person, but certain material items needed to go. It's hard to decide what to save and what to toss when you clean isn't it? I ripped out entries in my planner that read as follows:

"Semptember 11, 2001 - Jason called to see if I had heard about the attacks on the news. I can't believe this is our world"

"September 28, 2001 - Aruba Baby"

Markers in time. It's amazing that those little time capsules are in my room, buried within the pages of unassuming booklets. Those stay. People who I didn't remember before I ran my fingers across their name, go.

Day 28. Attack of the Cheerio Munchers

2009-01-28T10:19:00.000-08:00

28, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

There are days that I try to get some scenery in my life that doesn't include teary faces, giggles and the inside of my home. Alas, I'm dedicated, and that means that my alone time never materializes. Gia is always there. When I ask someone to watch her while I step out of the room to do something alone (ie. breathe, pee, snack, write, etc) she finds me. She hears me and tracks me down like a super wild animal.

This morning I went to do laundry and she grabbed a hold of my legs everywhere I went. When I climbed on top of the dry, she attacked. It was frustrating, yet adorable since she sealed the hunting deal with a "rar" and a "roar" in a whisper.

que sera

Photo: 28/365 self portrait

5: frogs & princesses

2009-01-05T09:35:00.000-08:00

day five, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

I have a daughter. A little girl with bright eyes and a gorgeous face. Already outgoing, funny, and musically intuitive.

What I have, is a dreamboat on my hands. A small piece of heaven that someone is going to date someday. That scares the piss out of me. That's why I have already begun to practice "the talk" out loud so that I can be ready someday. For now, I will just explain to her that the cliche is right: sometimes you have to kiss a lot, I mean A LOT of frogs, before you get to a prince.

Photo: 5/365 Self Portrait

365 Day Project.

2009-01-02T22:30:00.000-08:00

So, I started this 365 day project on flickr.com. The ex is doing one. At first mention from him, I thought that he was a narcissistic dude who had just taken looking in the mirror to an extreme, a vivid lens wielding extreme. Now that I have gone through my old photos of a younger and surely hotter me, I get it.

Just a few years ago, *I* was a camera wielding self-portrait whore who lived to take new photos of herself. Today, I barely manage to get out of my pajamas. I've classified myself as a mama for 20 months now, and that's it. When I look at the old photos I realize that I am not longing to be THAT person anymore, but I do crave the attention I gave myself. Having a child requires me to give a good deal of time to Gia, time that I love to devote to her. But, I've neglected the things that made me me. The things that I want to give to Gia.

I'll be taking a photos of myself, and Gia, every day for a year. Sounds simple. is simple I suppose, but the rewarding part is in the process. Knowing that I will get to see how I change, for the better or worse, will be interesting. Maybe, in my head at least- this sounds good, I will push myself to do the gym thing more. To explore my world more. i will read those photography books closer and stop tellign myself that I know all I need to know about photoshop.

I

will

become

a

better

person

mother

friend

woman.

I'm excited.

it's a brand new year and I just feel very hopeful about what is to come. usually when I get hopeful things fall the fuck apart, but I will remain optimistic. Being negative does nothing, right?

I've added a flickr photo button so you can stay updated on the right of this blog. see, over there------------->

And here is day two, for both of us.

Big Sis, Little Sis

2008-12-30T13:58:00.001-08:00

Big Sis, Little Sis, originally uploaded by urbanbrat89.

aren't they great? 10 days every winter with the girl I love. I will always have Gia as the one daughter, the one child I gave birth too. No more. However...Chloe will always be like a daughter to me and any moment I get with her is one I savour, cherish, and capture if I can, on print.

Aren't they beautiful?

OOoooooooh, we're halfway the-ere

2008-12-18T16:30:00.000-08:00

We aren't living on a prayer, but we are living with my extreme sense of achievement in reference to my writing.

"I want to be a writer."

This was written on so, so many of my progress report, school wish lists, and diaries. Sometimes I created an addendum that mentioned illustrator, artist and actor, but for each wish on the future, I wanted to be a writer. So I became one. I wrote about a million different things, too. In high school I wrote about the imagined heartbreaks I wished I'd have gone through, about love and loss and the shit in between.

In my earliest of the independent years, nineteen or so, I pilled my sexual exploits and conquests on the pages of sexy covered journals and notebooks. I even kept a website with a section titled "date whore" where I gossiped about nameless men and their biggest adjectives. For a moment, it felt like my calling. I was like a half-hearted Anais Nin in my head. So sad for me and reality. I was nothing close to her. Exploring my boundaries with the world and sex, yes, but not to her creative direction. I came out of my shell, as they say, and let my words fall where they may, and let them embarrass whomever they should, but not me. Talking about my life, my body, that may have seemed like I was being public with myself, and it was don't get me wrong, but I didn't really open up and give way to how I felt.

...and then came Gia. If I go in specific order, then came love, and true heartbreak, and then Gia. I could babble for days and days on any given topic, but when it comes to Gia and being a mother, and all that those two things touch and consume... I really begin to write. w.r.i.t.e. I can talk about how I feel and what scares me or perplexes me. I can make the silliest things seem so elegant, because I'm in love with that little girl and everything I type bares that.

I've always wanted to be a writer and I finally have something to write about. Something amazing. Loving her.

I'm almost halfway through this book and no words can describe how satisfying it feels to know that i set out to do something, I'm indeed doing it, and there's no stopping me now. It's liberating and exhilarating and all the other "-atings" you can imagine.

Playlist Feature from the Future Musician

2008-12-16T11:54:00.000-08:00

I've decided to add a playlist feature of GiGi's current mp3 selections to the right hand side of my blog. I figure since music is a giant, huge, megg-a part of both of our lives that I would share what's going on in her ears with you all.

I try to have new stuff added to her player often but sometimes we get behind. Er, *I* get behind. If she knew how to update it, I don't think I would ever get that girl off of my laptop. That might be a better alternative to me sitting in front of it though. I cannot stop playing (on repeat no less) "Everytime" by Lincoln Hawk....yes...from Gossip Girl. it's sad and lonely and pathetic but oh my god - I love it.

Chime in on the sticky note feature and let me know what you think of her current selection, or if you have a song selection of your own for us. Anytime, any song - we'd love to hear. Honestly.

The Problem with Toddlers & Wrapped Gifts...

2008-12-12T06:43:00.002-08:00

...is that they will eventually develop an interest in the Christmas tree, even when you have complained/vented/bragged, about how they couldn't care less.

It's kind of hard to have a sense of privacy in a house that I share with my parents, or rather a house they share with Gia and I, but we try. There are constantly people coming in and out without knocking, etc, which must explain why for the past ten years I spent my time living either alone or with roomates who didn't have a heavy traffic of friends in the home.

Christmas makes it a perfect time to shut the door to the world and hang out with a tiny tree and Gia. There is a tree in the family room just as there has been for all the 28 years that I have been alive, but this one is just ours. It's nice.

The presents are all wrapped and for now, they are under the little tree in my room. Personally, I love to look at a heap of wrapped presents piled high underneath a tree that smells so good I wish it were December at least 10 months out of the year. Gia, however, thinks the tree is mildly annoying. All of the gifts that make noise are tucked underneath the scratchy little branches that she loathes which makes getting to them and smacking them - very tricky. Each day I see her getting closer and closer to poking holes in the noisy paper covered gifts and we all know where that leads....

pre-Christmas unwrapping.

oi.

Oh, the Places You'll Go.

2008-12-05T15:44:00.000-08:00

Create your own travel map or travel blog

Travel Info at TripAdvisor

This stupid little thing has me thinking about what a California girl I am. I totally need to get m ass to the east coast. I know I might have to give up my flip flops but I think Im ready for a visit at least.

For Rebecca...

2008-11-30T15:55:00.000-08:00

Okay, I couldn't resist an opportunity to respond, like so many other proud mothers, to the Straight from the Bottle post regarding the wow moment pictures.

There are a kazillion pictures of Gia that I love more than anything and everything (except for her) but if I had to, like fictitiously could only pick a handful, it would be these. These hang on my walls and were the pictures I stared at and felt such insanely true motherly moments with. I'm not sure you can tell, but I started to figureout the whole continuous shot mode on my camera and then a photo became a photo shoot. Yes, I was one of those weirdos who took a photo of her child every day for the first year of their life.

Seriously, I had to just close all other windows and hit "publish" because the number of photos I was falling in love with all over again was increasing with every sigh.

And..... my new favorite, recently taken by Ashley Forrette Photography:

Post-Thanksgiving Death-Shopping

2008-11-28T12:17:00.000-08:00

Dude. THIS is why I am not shopping right now. In fact, my butt is still in pajamas and I am scared that if I happen to get dressed I will want to go out. Ugh. This scares me. No one should be killed over wanting to earn a paycheck, and having to sell to shoppers-gone-mad over the joy they will have in saving $30 on some item.

*shakes head*

New hat.

2008-11-24T19:41:00.000-08:00

Me likes.

Ergo Anyone?

2008-11-19T11:00:00.000-08:00

I'm totally going to sell my ergo because Gia absolutely hates being in it. When she was a baby she hated tummy time because it took away her senses in a way. The ergo is the same thing.... she screams...crys...hates-hates-hates it. We used it once at Disneyland for about 5 minutes, once on the Golden gate bridge which was pure chaos, and once at a ball game for a few moments.

Seriously- someones gotta take this thing. Take it and leave cash..heh.

So before I post it to ebay (which is quite intimidating with all the official selling rules and whatnot) here is the listing.

"Hi! I am selling the Cranberry Ergo Baby Carrier that I bought to tote around my daughter in. While I loved this item, she did not. She has a sensory issue and facing forward annoys her to no end. This has been worn outside the home 3 times and is in amazing condition. Just like new! I am also including the extending waist strap which retails for $8.00 but is yours to keep with just the simple price of the Ergo itself. This item comes from a pet free and smoke free home. Asking price $95 - free shipping.

Thank you for looking at this carrier!"

does that sound cheesy?

oh Me-oh-My-oh.

2008-11-18T19:06:00.001-08:00

And a Babble blogger too!

First Photo Session

2008-11-17T16:37:00.000-08:00

Please don't make me look fat.
Please don't make me look fat.
Please don't make me look fat.
Please don't make me look fat.
Please don't make me look fat.

Gia, please don't cry.
Gia, please don't cry.

Was I thinking a lot of other things yesterday? Nope, not really. Our pictures with Ashley turned out amazing and I am so pleased that she turned around and tossed them back our way so freaking quickly. The afternoon with friends was lovely, and the babies were all semi-to-well-behaved. major things could have happened, but all in all it was simple tears and hungry mouths both big and small. After pictures we took a walk to the Tilden Little Farm and made animal noises.

to view the lovely photographers website ------> go here.

Beautiful....

(Above Photos By: Ashley Forrette Photography 2008)

Locked Up Abroad

2008-11-17T14:47:00.000-08:00

I cannot quite explain it, but my love for this show runs deep and illegal. Like a moth to a flame, every Monday, here I sit with eager fascination for a show about idiots, errr people, who get thrown in jail in foreign countries for drug smuggling. I think there were a few other episodes about other cases where people were locked up for reasons other than hiding a bazillion grams of cocaine in their vagina or taped to their back, but those aren't as good.

The first few minutes of the show usually has some sentimental story that makes me like the about-to-be-foreign-convict, and then it hits ... that "Don't DO IT! Don't say yes!" moment where I refuse to leave the room. I will sit there for a solid 45 minutes without having my thirst quenched or pee relieved. I'm hooked. Glued.

"He asked me to bring back a few kilos from Peru and in exchange I would get $13,000. It sounded so, easy."

(shakes head)

Oh honeys, don't you know that you will ALWAYS get caught. In some fashion, your crime will always be found out and you will surely be bitch slapped over and over in a language you don't understand while gunmen shove their weapons in your face.

If I were in charge of the world, I would forbid seniors to graduate school without first viewing a video of ANY episode of Locked Up Abroad. That way, the 18-25 years olds who seem to fall for it will have gotten a warning beforehand.

"The Human Heart" - he says.

2008-11-14T14:37:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, you have all been blasted with this on facebook and other places, but I had to post it here because I am in love with this commentary. I agree 110%

Newspaper Comments

2008-11-14T14:22:00.000-08:00

living in a town that was once overflown with McCain/Palin and Yes on 8 signs, I find it hard to read the newspaper at times. It seems to me that most of the articles I read are very snotty, conservative, and mildly offensive. Letters to the Editor include pieces from people who call george W. a "great president." ugh.

Needless to say, the things I comment on are very honest and liberal and aren't much liked. They don't get to print in this tiny little town. My comment on the ban of halloween costumes in elementary schools however, got a little paper action.

And for the record, Chuck Doud of the Madera Tribune, if you are reading this... I can't stand your words. At all.

6:32 a.m.

2008-11-14T06:48:00.000-08:00

She blinks her lashes quickly, 3 times, and extends her legs out. Her back arches and those tiny toes wiggle on feet parting ways with one another for a complete awakening stretch. Her cough still lingers so she bolts up to stick out her little iguana tongue and shake loose whatever it is that still ails her.

she smiles.

"mama," she says in a sing song voice while she climbs on top of me for a hug before making her way over, and off the bed. It's now 6:34 am and Gia is laying on the floor, face pressed against her mp3 player, and bobbing her head along to The Pixies, Gigantic.

And this I know
His teeth as white as snow
What a gas it was to see him
Walk her every day
Into a shady place
With her lips she said
She said

Hey Paul, Hey Paul, Hey Paul, let's have a ball
Hey Paul, Hey Paul, Hey Paul, let's have a ball
Hey Paul, Hey Paul, Hey Paul, let's have a ball

Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love

My daughter, the music lover. Maybe I'm stroking my own ego by complimenting her music selection, or perhaps I'm just glad that our of everything in the room, Gia will always pic music first. Tasty music, not the musical toys. If music were a game of roshambo, music would be dynamite for her. She ditched my loving mama arms for an mp3 player on the floor. When the new ipod touch commercial came on, she crawled to the tv. When my new Submarines album finished downloading and I started to preview it, guess who came back to my side bouncing and babbling with glee?

Most of the toys creeping out of the toy boxes and onto the floor, under my bed, and into her hands have this wonderful little feature called "volume." Gia has found that feature and is making sure all toys are turned on at the same time, and at their highest possible volume. It's like she's creating a fisher-price symphony. While it can be overwhelming and some days I curse the people who filled our home with toys that make noise, i otherwise applaud her creativity and musical fascination.

GiGiRoxx: The Weekly Jam List

Little Garcon - Born Ruffians
Mushaboom - Feist
The Modern Leper - Frightened Rabbits
Magnificent - Estelle
So What - Pink
I Feel it all - Feist
Gigantic - The Pixies
Oodalally - Robin Hood (The movie)
Pure Imagination - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Son of Your Father - Elton John
Keep Yourself Warm - Frightened Rabbits

...and several songs from The Nutcracker and other ones I can't remember because I need more coffee and my child is crying and hopping up and down while smacking the 'esc' key as I type.

an oldie...but one of my favorite pictures of Gia and the music man ..er....bunny

Body Art and the Curious Kindergartener

2008-11-12T15:25:00.000-08:00

If I were my sister, I would be furious with me. As an adult it is my job to assume responsibility for my child, and when my sister is busy and I'm hanging around, her girls. Now, I am all about creative self-expression which most definitely includes washable body art of kids.

After our short visit to the ER for Gia and her ear infections, we spent the next evening at my sisters house. We watched movies while Gia slept and her three girls played/ did homework/ sold me ass loads of campfire girl candy. My sister and I (mostly her I confess)worked on our entry into a giant family Thanksgiving Turkey contest. When the meal was over and she graciously did the dishes, I colored alllll over her 5 year olds face and bod. My favorite was the spider web tattoo in her elbow that she told her mother she got in jail when she was busted for selling yoo-hoo out of her trunk. The other fave was the stick figure version of the same pin-up girl tattoo I have on my back.

Normally, when she throws a fit or gets unseemly and feisty, I want to cover my ears and hide. With "grumpy eyes" as she calls her evil brows, and a mustache? Oh man... there's no way to be mad.

see what I mean?

The extremeley funny part of this whole thing is that her sisters, my 10 yr old twin nieces, neglected to make sure ALL of the markers they gave me were washable. Long story short - someone went to sell campfire candy the next moring with the remains of a navy blue crayola mustache.

Word to the Mama.

2008-11-10T12:48:00.000-08:00

Cracker?

"cah-ker"

GiGi?

"gigi"

Say Night-night?

"ni-ni"

Maybe a high fever has brought the words out of my child, or perhaps she has just gotten into expressing herself and communicating better. Is it the orange juice that I've recently started to stick in her sippy cup? Whatever the reason is, the babe has decided to mimic a several new words over the course of the past few fever-snotty-cough induced days and I'm stoked. It's nice to hear "dite mama" when she means to tell me that she wants a bite. Maybe all the worrying is for nothing. It may just turn out that my daughter is a babbler turned chatterbox all of the sudden.

Born Ruffians, Thank You.

2008-11-06T19:07:00.000-08:00

Gia and I stumbled upon this album a few months back and I just started listening to them quite a bit.

Wherever she is in the moment, she will always find me, request to be held, and lay on my while this plays.

Picture Perfect!

2008-11-05T22:56:00.001-08:00

Can I just say what a most wonderful time of the year it is to be out and taking pictures? All of the colors are too die for out there. On my way home from Oakland this weekend I kept stopping to take pictures of everything that caught my eye. I'm bummed that the photos didn't turn out better, but I'm still reading and learning from my new books. I have a new tripod that I also need to remember to actually take with me when I'm out and about.

I'm inspired by Fall so bear with me.

Twenty -Eight

2008-11-05T22:31:00.000-08:00

The past few days have been amazing days. Truly phenomenal and memorable days. Friday /Halloween was my birthday and while it was only my 28th birthday, it was still special for me. It was the first birthday that I spent indoors - with my best friends and their children - as well as my own daughter. The night before, I got to celebrate with Gia, my parents, sister and nieces. yay- I got a sewing machine so watch out world... here comes some badly made baby dresses!

Being a Lion Tamer did not thrill Gia like I hoped it would, nor did being a lion suit trace, or a puppy suit Aiden. Basically, costumes were a bust for the kids this year. Since we couldn't get the coat on Gia, she ended up looking like the TuTu GiGi- Fierce Laser beam ninja!

Oh well, she looked cute, right?

Saturday night was shopping, dinner, and movies with my best two. I never laugh as hard with anyone else as I do with them. I love, love, love all of my friends but these two have lived with me (poor girls) and been near me when I was still a teen! yikes! (ps- go see Zack & Miri make a porno. hilarious goodness)

Overall, great birthday weekend.

So that leaves me with 2 years to plan for my thirtieth birthday party. i like to think I will have some small and lavish event with my 80 of my closest friends, but by that time I will have a 3-1/2 yr old. Hopefully I will be slimmed down by then, but life, as we all know, takes us down strange paths. As long as I'm still in love with being a mom and we are all healthy, I suppose it doesn't matter what happens two years from now :P

Underwear

2008-10-31T12:11:00.000-07:00

Gia and I have been hanging out in our underwear for an hour and a half now. Sadly - I must get us both dressed, but on the upside of things, I get to have a little slumber party at both Anoucks and Lea's homes this weekend. that is, once I get my ass up and moving....

AND - I get to see Gia in her Halloween costume once lea picks it up this afternoon for me. (thank you!)

The weather must be affecting us, because now Gia is crabby and lounging on me. Oh well, nothing a little pumpkin muffin and kisses can't fix :)

Happy Birthday to me :) Happy Halloween to you!

I Was Doing So Good...

2008-10-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

...and then I barfed last night. Gia didn't go to sleep until 1:27 am and that with the uncontrollable and random urge to throw up, made for an unpleasant evening. I'm anxious a lot lately, in the evening when I'm home and everyone turns out the lights and closes the doors for the night. I fear home invasions and creepy people. I have flashbacks to a nightmare that I decided wasn't a nightmare - of a person standing in my doorway one night. Two nights later I was robbed.

I think about that a lot these days ad I'm not sure why.

Completely off topic, but then again not really, Garden State is on. That movie reminds me of friends that I no longer stay in touch with, The Parkway in Oakland, and my very first apartment without roommates. It reminds me of this:

....and this....

I got moody yesterday and it's carried itself into the night and of course through today. I freaked out because my mother put *barf* Mayo on a grilled cheese sandwhich for Gia this afternoon. She knows I hate it and I'm sure she didnt think I would be as pissed as I was, but I suppose I was kind of mean. My hair is a darker shade today and I think it reflects my mood. My birthday is tomorrow and look at the bitch I am becoming at the age of 28. oi.

Um. Yeah.

2008-10-22T16:39:00.000-07:00

This is who I get to wake up to every morning. How lucky am I? The sass just don't quit. *raps*

Obsessive-Meggpulsive

2008-10-17T18:39:00.000-07:00

I just received this most adorable little dress I ordered from Etsy. It's simple with a bit of "Chill Out, Man" hinting in the pocket. It's a Peace piece. I can't stop searching for cute little things these days.

Take these shoes for example:

Handmade - adorable - lime green shoes. This isn't the only pair I bought. Yeah. I know... a kids doesn't NEED that many pairs of shoes, but oh. Oh the adorable clothes.
I'm obsessive compulsive (not that this is a news flash or anything) and it hurts my wallet sometimes.

Aside from clothing for G, I can't stop buying that ONE item, the one item of the week that I cant live without. This week it's fresh mozzarella balls. I could eat 17 containers if you put them in front of me. I'm obsessive compulsive AND short attention spanned, and it makes things really difficult in life, sometimes.

I think I might share this with my Babble community in the next blog. Be on the lookout.

Cards are Done.

2008-10-17T15:40:00.000-07:00

Im a geek and love this card/paper/ crafty shit.

I Don't Like Elisabeth Hasselbeck.

2008-10-16T10:24:00.000-07:00

Not one little bit. I have friends who are *gulp* Republican, and that doesn't mean that I like them less because of that, so don't go getting your thong in a bunch assuming that's why I dislike her. No no, there's more to it than that.

She's annoying and no one is ever as correct and passionate as her.

According to her.

She needs to simmer down and let other people talk once in a while. She interrupts her co-hosts and always begins her conversations by attacking others. Her face and voice clearly convince me of that. This morning, actually - it's on as we speak - Elisabeth Hasselbeck mentioned that during last night debates she chest bumped her t.v. at the part when Crotchety McCain said he wasn't like Bush in any way and if Obama wanted to run against Bush he could've done that 8 years ago. Um... why the chest bump E? Have you realized that your favorite man, George "the one person more simple and moronic than you" Bush is a douche bag? Too little too late, lady.

I hate to make a blog post that pay attention to her in some way, but I don't want her on The View anymore and ABC won't listen to my emails anymore. Maybe the "Elisabeth sucks" folder is too full? In case she reads this - "Hey Elisabeth, believe it or not, the Republican't party DOES have its faults. Feel free to admit that"

I'm not the only one to find her repulsive either, see!

Hella-ween

2008-10-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

I love the pumpkin holiday. The more I think about how I'm diving into this holiday head first, like it were a pool of Belgian chocolate and lime tostitos, the more I think that I'm just avoiding the aging process.

Another birthday arrives this October 31st and with it comes my brand new age of 28.

oi! Just yesterday I was hanging out at Little Darlings with my girls because I wasn't old enough to get into any other place. Now I'm bitching about pumpkin patches and enlisting the help of my favorite sister/seamstress to make the perfect not-off-the-rack costume for Gia.

Since I have been going on and on for the past few years about how much I LOVE this holiday now that Im an adult and dont give a shit that my birthday is on a holiday (and welcome the distraction : see above), I've started to craft some extreme halloween cards. While I adore pictures of babies, friends, and family - in general - I never quite know what to do with those december holiday postcards you get with photos on them. I box them up with other decor from Christmas, but I feel bad. A little. I don't want to do that to another family, so I've convinced myself to make Halloween cards and attach photos there. voila! The Lasswell yearly holiday card now comes in October.

Part of the splendor of the month: Pumpkin patching

Cuteness Abounds

2008-09-21T18:31:00.000-07:00

Okay, I've turned geeky yet again. I just bought Scott Kelby's, The Digital Photography Book, along with it's sequel. I also ordered a book on Photoshop CS2 for digital photography. I couldn't help myself. There are three cameras in my desk: a Canon Powershot SD600 that I dropped in the pool, the replacemet Canon SD400 that I bought when I thought I murdered the SD600, and the Sony mamajamma that cost most than my car payment, insurance, cell bill and a months worth of diapers. The Sony has been sitting here since February being used terribly. Thus, my need to learn how to treat this digital lady right - to maximize her full potential.

I will be posting lots of pics in the near future, but for now here are my non-skilled pics of the babe.

Here Fishy - Fishy - Fishy....

2008-09-19T19:51:00.000-07:00

I was at the Monterey bay Aquarium this weekend while Gia was at the doctor with Ryan and Chloe. In the week or so before we got to go to the aquarium, I couldn't help but wonder if there would something, just one little thing, that Gia would enjoy there. Going with Lea, Trace, and Lea's lovely niece couldn't have been a better opportunity to have a great saturday surrounded by fish of thisand-that variety, and also scout out activities for G to do, should I ever take her.

Honestly - I hoped that there would be something for her to take part in, visually (yes, that sounds crazy) or at least tactile, but didn't really expect to find that something.

The four of us walked toward the Jellyfish exhibit first and I was surprised to find the light, through the extreme darkness, overwhelming. The blue, the shapes they made, the simple shades of orange, red, and pink. It was all too wonderful to take in. Trace is only a few month old and he LOVED it. He was mesmerized my the jellyfish and their movement. I wonder if the light is bright enough for Gia to notice. If she can.... I swear I'll try to move us into the jellyfish exhibit to live :P

Aiden Francis Green

2008-09-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

It's complete. My three very best friends in the world all gave birth this year. Naomi in February, Lea in July and finally, Anouck - just this morning.

Anouck has a little boy and his name is Aiden Francis(and he's gorgeous). He weighed 7 lbs 6 oz and is 20-1/4" long. Welcome to Oakland little man, and congratulations Anouck and Britt!

(Proud Aunt:)

Sno Cones = Better than Martinis

2008-08-26T10:17:00.000-07:00

When you live in a land one hundred and eighty-five million miles from your friends, sometimes its hard to get anyone to travel your way. I think the main reason people stay at bay or um, in the bay, is because I'm usually there. If Ryan has Gia, then it makes more sense, for me, to spend my free time with the people I never get to see. With that, I would say my time is mostly spent on the couches and beds at Anouck & Britt's or Lea & Gene's place. My best friends, one with a new babe, and one with a babe on the way. I love them all to pieces so, yeah, there goes my weekend.

This makes me an asshole, I think.

I know you're sitting there in your pajamas, on the edge of your seat, waiting for the reason why this makes me an asshole, so I will tell you. It's not polite to keep people waiting, right?

There are a lot of people that I genuinely love in my life. I have an amazingly wonderful, phenomenal, delicious, fucking out-of-this-world set of friends and I don't spend nearly enough quality hang out time with them. Parties, dinners, events, gatherings, birthdays -- check! Mellow in my pajammy-jamms, talking shit about tramps on t.v. and making conversation about stuff. Not catching up type of stuff, but regular old everyday things. Its hard and I hope that anyone who reads this and thinks "oh yeah, that bitch NEVER calls me anymore to just watch a movie and drink a glass of wine while talking about nothing!" isn't too upset with me.

Sarah arrived skinnier than ever (bitch!) on our doorstep, friday night. We gossiped and exchanged new things we're tackling and how we missed each others sass. We reminisced about the company we used to work at. Most importantly, we played with Gia at the park and ate shitty food. We went to see Tropic Thunder at (gasp!) 9:30 pm on a Saturday night sans the babe. She taught me how to use my camera since she is a photographer with mammoth talent who is now selling her art. She left us on Sunday afternoon which makes me sad.

It's a good thing that my friend Kim showed up that evening with Kaira and Kyle. It's been a long time since I had an abundance of friends visit my house. The "K" family, minus the mister, stayed overnight and our goal was to do nothing but lounge by our pool, eat snow cones (yes, we have a snow cone machine. we could be, like, carnies), and watch the kids interact. My nieces were here so there was a nice group for playing and whatnot. Kim and I got to have some one-on-one time which hasn't happened is a thousand years. It was interesting to look at how far away from the life we had when we first me we really are. An anger free Melrose Place'sih - sorority house with a few men- summer camp like apartment building. whoa. Times they are-a-changin'

(cluster of pool soaked kids eating snow cones)

(tired from semi-swimming and screaming)

Now that everyone is gone it makes me feel better. Not better that they are gone, but t solidified the feeling I was trying to create with the arrival of parenthood in my other girlfriends. I've been really struggling with accepting being a mother and giving up the things I used to do. Far too many people claim that you don't have to set aside who you are when you become a mother, but i think that's a heaping spoonful of horse shit. I am still Megg. I still like the same kinds of music and enjoy googling purses like they were the naked ladies of porn. I talk too much. I like going out for a martini and paying $6 for it. I miss wearing heels and long flowing coats, the kind that you would definitely not want to get baby grease/sticky/hand-mess/barf/ever-surfacing snot on. After this weekend though, I am starting to realize that it's okay to have a life that doesn't involve some of those things. It's not permanent. It can be, but it doesn't have to be. Kids get older, circumstances change, and what I find comfortable and fun can be a part of that. i thank Kim for intentionally/ unintentionally showing me that.

One thing that I did get out of these past few days is that I need to invest more time in the people I care about and those who care about Gia and I, and stop lamenting the things that simply need to be put on hold for now. Besides, sugar free snow cones are much more figure-friendly, cheaper, and better to share with a 16 month old ;)

Women.

2008-08-23T08:48:00.000-07:00

Anouck and Lea have changed. I've been noticing this and it makes me swell with happiness, because for the past year or so I have been feeling the same way.

Everything is different.

I still love going out to dinner but when I get together with my two closest best friends, we need a table big enough for a growing belly, a car seat, and a high chair.

We used to show up in pictures like this one, drunk in a bowling alley.

Anouck hated leaving the city and Lea hated men for the most part. I was just in love with seeing it all and learning the ropes from these two. We spent weekends out and about and shaking our asses anywhere my underage self could get in, which usually meant strip clubs on Broadway. Technically Columbus ;) Now? Anouck owns a home in Oakland, Lea is married, and I am 2 hours away seeing nothing but the faces in my family. Don't tell, but I kind of like it this way.

We used to talk to each other all day and sometimes all night. I was roommates with both, together and singly, separately. We fought like sisters at times, and on the rare occasion that we actually had a complete blow-up...it was hell. The thought of losing one of them in an argument was like losing a limb. Nowadays when something happens, something that would have been tantamount to the end of friendships, we laugh it off or simply understand. Yet again we are in the same boat. We are all mothers to small children who need us the way we needed each other before any of this began. Children who need us the way we need one another right now, so that we can attempt to make it through this thing called motherhood, alive and sane.

It's a beautiful place in life to be able to share with friends.

I wish Naomi lived closer. She's one of those women that you meet and instantly feel like you've known all your life. A friend you know will change your life for the better and catch you when it all goes to hell. A person whose words are so amazing, and whose patience is so consistent that she saves you again and again from a million miles away.

Once upon a time, we were all bitches. We were the girls who walked into a room and
scattered. We kicked party ass and took names (and numbers, and people home at night). Once again we shake the room upon entrance, but it more wih the sound of teething toddlers, crying babes and aching, oh-so-over-it pregnant groans.

(My ladies with Gia Lorraine)

(In the hospital after Trace Kyler was born)

Mix Tapes.

2008-08-21T15:55:00.000-07:00

Gratuitous GiGi pic. Sometimes her smile is the only thing that pulls me out of a giant funk of sadness.

So I just finished sobbing over the amazing book Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield. Someone shoot me now. I can only ever hope to be that wonderful at describing my love for someone or something in this world. His book is adoring but beautiful because he mixes his love of music right in there with his love of his late wife.

I picked it up in a book store and read the first three chapters while the world zoomed past me hurriedly. Its been one of those books that made read it slowly because I didnt want it to end. Rockabye by the lovely Rebecca Woolf, and Bedtime Stories by Trey Ellis were the same exact way. I'm so lucky that these books found me and I got the chance to read them. Three fucking books in a row that I'm in love with - thats pretty awesome dont you think?

I've been slacking on my writing lately because it was more fun to hide behind being a parent than it was to actually be a an adult. (more to come on that topic here ...soon)

The point is, I finally finished the most difficult chapter for me to write, which is an immense weight lifted off of my chest. It couldn't have happened at a better time too, as I was recently told that I didn't get a certain job I have been wanting for a few months. A smartsy-fartsy super tech friend of mine told me I was much better than this place so I will use his words to prop my ego up.

Life is better today than it was yesterday and all I can do is be thankful for that, right?

happy thursday people.

Oh, The Horror!!

2008-08-13T17:47:00.000-07:00

Just in case any of you were curious, i have been upping my intake of horror films lately. There are a few suspense/scream dreams that I have put on the back burner for a while so I decided to catch up on them. After watching these creepy-even-when-they're-phony flicks I have decided a few things:

1.) I will never be the idiot who decides its a great idea to fucking chase a sound. If something is loud and haunting, it can stay right where its at because I'll be fucked if I'm going to go look for the bump in the day/night.

2.) Chubby girls will run if something is following them

3.) No, it is not okay to run into a barn if you think there is something after you.

4.) My thought process, given the fact that a serial killer/monster/creepo might be after me at some point, will go as follows; stop - panic- shut the fuck up - close eyes and think of room with least amount of pots and pans or weapons nearby. Even though one may know their abode better than said killer, killer will always be less jittery and will be able to pick up weapon and strike with force. Probably because you will bump into random pot or pan.

5.) If I have a vision, flashback or otherwise weird appearing of someone or something that hasn't happened yet in my life - i am not going to explore it.

6.) Say we're driving along and a thing pops out and we hit it with the car. If we are in the country/wilderness/texas, I am gone with the wind. But before I leave, I will mow it down like beast so that it can't get back up for revenge.

7.) If I am in the Appalachians I will not be getting in a canoe or having sex in the bushes. My guard will be up at all times so that I dont take a"wrong turn" or otherwise make a bad move. yes, I have a perty mouthe.

8.) Okay, a police officer arrests JUST you for throwing gum out the window and calls me a city mutherfucker for simply standing there. If the "police station" is a plantation house... I'm not going to rescue you - have fun eating teeth soup with nana derelict .

9.) If I think I know where a killer/ghost lives - I am not knocking on their door looking for a dinner date and furthermore I am not entering. Period.

10.) Traveling cross country is not appealing. Should I be forced to do it someday, I will only travel during daylight hours and stay at a Hilton, Holiday Inn, or other big name chain. I don't really care if there is lipstick on my "washed" glasses by the sink. As long as there aren't murderers, we're good.

11.) Staying in an unfamiliar home in the middle of nowhere will guarantee that I maintain possesion of a large blunt object at all times. Please don't sneak up on me, you might get whacked in the head.

12.) If I wrestle away a gun from a scary person, I am shooting until I run out of bullet. The insane ones always wake up after one or two shots.

13.) Sometimes freaks with metal fingers/gloves attack you in your dreams. If that's the case I will invest in no doze and a side of crack.

AND FINALLY.....

If I ever come to you one day and say that a ghost/ dead person/ zombie/ serial killer/ freak/ asshole/ demented mutant/ monster/ supernatural being - is after me... please know that I am hoping you believe me but I wont sit around and wait until you are convinced. Im off to Canada where scary won't grow. I'm otherwise sane and think this is all bullshit, but usually, that's who crazy hits first - the faithless. so, save my life, pat my head and go "Okay megg, let's go get the bad guy."

don't make me piss my pants and die alone.

I need to get out of the house

2008-06-17T09:17:00.000-07:00

This morning is already vanishing before my eyes. It's 9:17 am and I feel like it's noon already. I have far too many things to do and my patience is getting thin. Im not, but my patience....yes.

Gia is throwing these crazy hissy fits and while she is in the other room for the time being so that I can get some writing accomplished on my book, I can still hear her crying and it's driving me nuts. There is a top tooth coming in.... one in the back and it seems to be a total bitch for her. My heart breaks when she sounds like she's in pain and there doesn't appear to be anything else I can do to make her issues go away.

There she plays crying with my mother.

Here i sit, blogging, when I should be working on pages to fill my book, getting out of the fucking house and running, labeling her toys in braille again and hoping my neice doesn't take them all off for fun again, installing the new car seat for big girls, sewing the patch on her new shirt so it properly stays in place, planning a best freinds baby shower, sketching an invitation, drinking more coffee, washing my sheets that Gia pee'd on YET again along with the same pillow she pee'd on yesterday, cleaning out her closets and passing her things on to someone else, and calling to see if her pediatrician appt is this week or next.

And now it's 9:23 am.

Time is flying by and although most people think that just because I can stay in my pj's all damn day if i want to means that I am NOT busy - it's totally not true.

ugh.

wish me luck.

okay.... one thing at a time. I will get more coffee now, put on my running clothes and finish at least 5 pages before I do anything else.

Miso and Music

2008-06-13T11:07:00.000-07:00

Erin and I took my older nieces and Gia out for sushi a few days ago. While the girls left Kame hating sushi, Gia left there L-o-v-i-n-g traditional Japanese music. She's mesmerized by it and I can't say I blame her. It's so peaceful, and like classical music I think it's great for enhancing creativity. My mind tends to wander while its on, so I hope it does something similar for G.

She's moving around to the music right now, and it reminds me of an interpretive dancer. She's so cute I want to squeeze her.

Competitive Eating.

2008-06-08T16:00:00.000-07:00

I'm done.

Once, when i was a bitchy child in high school, I gave up soda for two years on a dare. Someone said I couldn't so, I did. Then, when my sister Erin was pregnant and I had a love for life and all things little, and I had already given up most meat, I sealed the deal for over 8 years, by giving up ALL meat.

NOW, It clicks. The thing I have been struggling with most (ie, my giant fucking hips and this weird gut thing, post baby)which is my weight, will be under attack starting now. No more weight watchers and other plans. I can't do those anymore even though they helped me oodles in the past.

I've needed to tell carbs "So long suckas" for a long time and I just couldn't stand to do it until now. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't say goodbye.

Today, while walking through the house, I heard myself talking and saying "oh me, I don't eat carbs, thats how I lost the weight." It felt good. Just like it felt good all those years to say that I didnt drink sodas or eat meat. Not that I ignore those things today, but at the time, I was very proud of my will power and the choices I had made.

I want to feel like that again.

My daughter eats very well, and I simply need to eat like her. As much as her father annoys the fuck out of me when he is right, I agree with him on this eating thing.
Simple is better. Veggies, lean meat, and other tasty things in nice portions is the way to go. Stay clear of the packaged isles and really think about what is fueling your body.

This morning I had 2 scrambled eggs, 1/2 of an Avocado, and a slice of cheddar cheese. for a snack I had a cup of fresh pineapple and 12 dry roasted peanuts. For dinner I will eat grilled chicken, steamed green beans, and a salad. Simple and healthy. No counting, no shitty carbs.

I already feel like a million fucking dollars just with the days decisions alone.

You know what's the funniest part of all this? It's competitive, at least it is in my head. Knowing how jealous I am when some says "I don't eat sugar" or "i don't eat chips and bread," - - - it's going to be awesome to once again be the snotty bitch on the other end of that. Health perks aside, its the competition with me that drives this whole thing.

F'real yo!

2008-06-04T11:10:00.000-07:00

So Gia and her messy little face are on another website making a cameo. F'real foods has the best ice cream around and Gia is showing folks how good it is.

Mother Fucker!

2008-05-22T11:42:00.000-07:00

I have a hard time, since allowing a child to come rip-roaring out of my vagina, with saying the phrase "Mother Fucker." It feels dirty and offensive to myself for some reason. Like mother fucking is bad, when it's not. it's quite normal!

Two years ago it was a different story. If someone cut me off?

"YOU STUPID MOTHER FUCKER!"

Now its comical, bordering on pathetic. When I am cut-off in traffic or equally pissed I glare at the car and honk. Then get in the slow lane. I always think if I aggravate a driver they will shoot me or aide in wrecking my car, my daughter and I the future victims of a firey auto catastrophe.

Sigh.

I really wishI could say it, but I can't. Motherhood hs taken that from me.

Its a good thing I can still say ll the REALLY offensive female terms no one is willing to say, read, or type.

WHEW!

Road Trip

2008-05-20T20:52:00.001-07:00

Well, well, well...it's been an emotional day, but I still feel pretty good. For more on the emotions consult Love is Blind and you'll get the juice deets.

Medicine? check!

T-Mobile DASH? on its way!

I got a new phone so that I will finally organize myself publicly. It seems that no matter how hard I try, i can't seem to get my shit together when I'm out in public, and trying to tend to Gia's appointments. I bought a planner a while back, and don't laugh, but it was a paper, old fashioned, jot-it-down, planner. Papers, cards, appointment markers, pictures....everything fell out in my purse creating a giant mess which in turn - simplified nothing. So I choose to say "Fuck you" to the messes and get a smartphone.

Who-Rah for $100 phone bills!!

One perk about the phone, isbeing able to use it on the near to existance road trip I will be taking with the ex. We are heading to Portland from the central valley on saturday morning. I've driven to Las Vegas which was the longest trip so far, but this one is neither to a sexy location, or with girls who shake their ass with me and get me liquored up.

No No...this is with someone who I once dated, twice mourned the break-up of, and whose child I bore.

We get along very well and I truly enjoy our friendship, so you all need to wish me the smallest of luck. Just a little luck, not a whole boatload.

I've never left my babe for longer than a night and I'm a little nervous about this weekend. She will be in great hands so that part is handled, but I'm not so sure three nights of cuddling a hotel pillow is going to keep me happy. Now's the time I wish I were lame enough to have printed her picture on a g*damned throw pillow.

que sera.

I need to write this evening so I've limited my coffee intake. Im hoping that my sample chapter will finish writing itself if I give it enough skinny coffee and sugar free jolly ranchers tonight. Maybe I'll throw in a bit of the new Portishead or Death Cab for flavor/ added writing seduction. Who knows.

On a side note...Gia LOVES her new chair that we bought with the numerous gift cards she got for her birthday.

Sex & the City

2008-05-19T06:28:00.001-07:00

I watched 8 episodes ALLLLLLL night long. No sleep for this girl.
I really wish my dvd player was working so I wouldnt have to ue my laptop to watch movies. Up all night and I decided watching S&TC was more important than writing.

fuck fuck fuck.

Whoa

2008-05-16T09:54:00.001-07:00

I'm sitting here in workout clothes, hair-dye on my noggin and Chris Isaak blasting loud. I haven't played him in such a long time, but suddenly it feels like years ago. it feels like tanning topless in the backyard on a rare HOT summer day in Oakland, when I still lived with Anouck.

When I was just a girl and not a mother.

When I could wake up late and spend my day in pj's painting my nails and calling in sick from life.

When I wrote about having my heart broken and my head confused, instead of writing about how I love someone more than anyone in the world and how wonderful that feels.

Im lucky to have those memories and glad that they are just memories now and all of our lives our changing

That sucks Balls

2008-05-15T18:48:00.000-07:00

Not actual balls, ew. More like uncool things: balls. there are lots of balls in this world, and tons where my language is concerned. The other day I had to explain to my nieces that I meant "Temperature balls" when I said "I'm freezing my balls off.

The nieces are ten years old now, so they know what balls are and when I mention them....it's hands-down giggles and red cheeks.

I miss blushing at balls. Not the real deal, but the word balls. I miss my innocence sometimes. sigh.

Right as Rain

2008-05-07T21:29:00.000-07:00

I am listening to Adele nonstop these days.

And nights

and afternoons and all waking moments.

Right as Rain is a tune that accompanied me through my first pilates class. It was a self taught class but thats okay by me. It got my ass up and stretching. As much as I didn't want to do it at first, I did....and it felt great. I took the nieces for a short walk this evening after I made a healthy dinner for us all, and man-oh-man, it was nice to be out and about in workout clothes.

My goal is to be a better mommy. More health conscious for myself, since Im making good decisions for the little G's plates. I started weight watchers today too. oi. again.

wish me luck.

Babble!

2008-05-06T13:56:00.000-07:00

Hi kids,

I am blogging on Babble.com now and I am over the god damned moon about that.
Please check me out if you would like. The whole site is amazing and I've been drooling over it and letting it suck me in for years :)

http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/loveisblind/default.aspx

who-rah!

-Megg

Dear Trader Joes.

2008-04-01T13:25:00.001-07:00

Thank you for making frozen rice and veggies for two bucks. It makes my tummy AND pocket full. Slowly, everything I consume is a Trader Joes product. Actually, lotions, vitamins, shampoo, etc. How is it that I love it even more and shop there more frequently, even though I dont have one down the street like I used to?

anywho.

I heart TJ's!

April Fools.

2008-04-01T00:21:00.000-07:00

Gia's 1st birthday is in 6 days.

SIX DAYS!!!

You give me 'Fever'...

2008-03-31T23:15:00.000-07:00

So its exactly one week until my babe is 1 year old and she is sick. Im hoping it goes away and she will be ready for cake munching and present opening soon. As it stands - I have a little one who innocently and sadly lays upon my chest and lets out a cry every so often. The other moments she just snuggles me with hot toes and a forehead like lava . I wish there was something I could do to make those teeth come in for an easier landing.

On a side note, my gorgeous girl is up to a million other things despite this minor set-back in activity. She is successfully using a sippy cup and has begun to drink "big-girl-milk" as I call it. At night when she wakes up (which is still about 3 times avg./ night) she gets water and nothing else. Maybe a kiss or two ;) Gia is also cruising around the furniture like crazy and if I set her on her butt, she moves to her tummy and semi-scoots to explore. This little wonder is growing up all too fast before my very eyes.

here is her recent attempt at Trader Joes Pirates Booty snacking:

"Yelle" and other pop stealing my heart...

2008-03-27T17:22:00.000-07:00

yelle
I want to kiss her little nose.

This is by far the most adorable new music I've gotten. If you haven't checked her out, please do so for the sake of all that is quaint in the world. I've had her on for about 7 minutes now and I will have to update later on how I really feel about her.

vampire weekend

How amazing is this band? I would love to tell vampire weekend to go piss off because they are on MTV and surely if they are on MTV they must be bratty little piss ants singing about shit I can't relate to. Alas, they are not. No No - they are a band with the ability to keep themselves played in my car, ipod, laptop, and daughters MP3 player, almost nonstop. At times, the album is so reminiscent of Paul Simon that I want to pull my car over and dance. In person this album is highly rock/dance/shakable. Best listen to this year.

*sigh*

Untapped City of Cool

2008-03-27T17:10:00.000-07:00

I spent my entire childhood living, breathing, running and playing in a small town I knew I would leave. Every spare moment was spent writing a 'Dear John' letter in my head, to this ill constructed and all fun-sucking town. I wanted to go anywhere else but, yes-you-guessed-it, Madera.

The Central Valley was in my opinion, about as appetizing as the smell is bore 327 days out of the year. Manure, freshly killed something-or-rather, Wal-Mart, dirt. The list of funk goes on. I indeed left at 17 years old, with no plans of returning. EVER.

E-V-E-R!

Now that I have moved back after 10 years of living in the Bay Area (the best place in the entire world, hands down)I am discovering things about this silly place that I would have never known, if I had not of left.

This town has potential to say the least. Much like cities in the bay, it is close to a large city (Fresno in this case) and has all the same conveniences as most expanding towns. It didnt occur to me until today that this place is Hipp.

That's right, this place is H.I.P.P, hip with an extra p. its like training wheels for cool. Im learning that I can have all of the same things that I loved about the bay area as long as I am willing to search for them. granted there is no beach, water, or best friends - there is Gia and all the time in the world to spend with her.

Love.

2008-01-12T10:42:00.000-08:00

She likes the Nightlife, She likes to Boogie

2008-01-12T09:16:00.001-08:00

GiGi and I begin our Tuesday at a sleep-in time of 4:52 am. I’m impressed by her ability to sleep from 2 am until 4:52 am this morning without waking once. I’m sure I could have just told you that she woke up at 5 o’clock or perhaps 4:45 am or almost 5, but I didn’t. I want to be sure that anyone reading this knows if they happen to see me on the street or to catch a random snapshot of me, I have bags under my eyes for a reason.

Jet-setting, cross-country, paying-to-fly-with-extra-suitcases sized bags.

My little 9 month old human marshmallow fluff has the unsullied ability to stay awake more hours during the night than someone with a crystal-meth addiction. Actually, she’s so convincing that if she had more hair, teeth, height and a compulsive twitch to shop for “As see on TV” products at Walgreens during the 1 am hour, I’d say she was definitely hiding a habit from mama.

photo for speculation:

As it turns out, this sleep pattern is all too common for a babe, such as mine, who is blind. GiGi was diagnosed with Optic Nerve Hypoplasia when she was just 4 months old. Her optic nerves are very, very tiny and never fully developed, thus her lack of vision. Read: Britney Spears’ brain cells kind of tiny. Yowza. The only two things her eyes can get a hold of are extreme light, and darkness. I tend to go for the positive and believe that while I may not be getting a lot of sleep – I am catching up on all the reality tv I can handle. Since the tv has no effect on her whatsoever, I simply pounce on the mute button and glue my eyes to the absurd realities. Thank you MTV. Thank you VH1. I may not know what any of the tramps bimbos women are saying right before they get into a fight with one another, but I do know that Bret Michaels will have a chance to find what New York and Tila Tequila have found.

Back to GiGi. She does so many things like other babes her age, but sleeping isn’t one of them. We have a regular schedule for naps during the day that Senora Stubborn set and I never made my way to correct. She usually goes for a nap around 9 am or some approximate heavenly moment (in which I usually fall asleep again), and then again around 3 pm. This second nap is the motherload. We get a 3 hour break from one another which is divine the first hour, until I miss her. I should probably learn to wake her up so that it’s possible for us to sleep peacefully at night like the normals do, but as a first time mother I can’t bare the thought of upsetting her. I am also a bit of an insomniac and have been for quite some time, so to learn that my daughter is blind and one obstacle to overcome is horrible sleep issues at night didn’t seem so hard to get.

“No big deal,” I said.
9 months and 1 day later, I yawn and heat the oven. I like to warm my words before I eat them.

Photos of the tiny little wonder who makes it hard to say "Go back to bed!" to.

"....I think your inner slut is sad"

2008-01-12T00:12:00.000-08:00

The tiny one has a birthday coming up in a few months and in preparation for the big "1" extravaganza, I've decided to learn how to make a cake. Not just any cake either - a cake in the shape of a Beatles record with my daughters first favorite song ever. I'm sure it's easier to make a regular cake from a box, or if you so choose, to buy one from some posh bakery, but I think it would be more interesting to take on a project more complex than that. Why? I'm an idiot.

*insert google search here*

Type in: "F-o-n-d-a-n-t"

Im not sure how you actually say this word. If it's pronounced FaWN-dunt or Fawn-Dawn-t, I'll never really bother to investigate. I don't particularly care as a matter of fact. I DO know and care that you can buy it already put together in a little tub and just add in the color you want.

rad.

Less work for me in the baking department is always better. Im an expressionist betty crocker type so everything I touch is usually blue or purple and most likely burnt. I'm vowing to give this cake my all though, for the sake of someone tiny and altogether lovely to me.

Google is up on the screen, and there is a generous display of fondant recipes, places to purchase pre-made fondant, cake ideas, how-to guides, etc. Seeing such a plethora of birthday madness - I convince myself that I need an excel spreadsheet to help me plan this cake crap, along with the party too.

Then it hits me!

I am creating an excel spreadsheet for a 1 yrs birthday cake 3 months before her birthday, on a friday night.

What happened to me? Where did my nights of sass and drunken wit go? Why do I have a Cal Berkeley sweater that is two sizes too big on, instead of heels and a swish of crimson lips. Are there any phone calls I missed telling me the location of my friends in the city? Should I wear shoes for walking far, or for standing around looking cute in? Is a skirt too much for the weather or will jeans be more appropriate this evening? Do I care if this guy calls me back, or did I even give him my real phone number? Is casual dating wrong if it makes me feel so entertained?

I think my inner slut is sad.

I am a mother now and no matter how many times I tell myself that, every once in a while I am amazed with how different my life is at this point.

I do fondant and photo christmas cards instead of 4 double martinis and high heels for fun.

Yes, my inner slut is definitely sad.

I used to have energy to be the girl on the left, now I'm bliss with thegirls on the right.

"....I think your inner slut is sad"

2008-01-11T22:17:00.000-08:00

"....I think your inner slut is sad"

The Smallest Playlist Ever.

2008-01-11T20:53:00.000-08:00

It's not uncommon to have friends who are nerds. (Please trust- I say nerds in the sincerest possible way.)People who like to have all the hippest technical gadgets, a knowledge of C++ and the ability to have the finest tuned,taught, loved and driven laptop on the market.

Folks like these usually have the trendiest ipod, player of music, etc- with a library of music so extreme it would make any music store jealous upon first glance. That is, if a music store could in fact glance at anything.

I have tried to join ranks with friends like these and while music is a passion of mine, I don't think 40 GB is enough sometimes. It's especially not impressive when I lazily add files, folders and incomplete albums, sometimes missing the album art work. My ipod is filled with music I love, but when the time comes to urn it on I am lost with which album to play first. What ends up happening is that I play whatever I stumble onto first, instead of creating some sort of order. Perhaps I could have spent 10 minutes compiling a list of songs for the gym. Songs for strength training. Songs for writing blogs and working on my book.

Alas - I did no such thing.

What I successfully do, is make sure that my daughter has an updated playlist. This child o'mine who is amused by high-fives and getting a ponytail in the face, has a more complex playlist than I do.

At Christmas everyone I knew took a dive right into the spending pool, and bought my babe lots of nifty gifts. My mother, at my urgent request, got her a Playskool MP3 player. This item, while rocking my entire f---ing world, has managed to captivate my 9 month old beyond what I could have ever imagined. She's already mastered how to change songs, which if you think about it, is pretty special.

Bunny Babe (this thing has a cover on it and it looks like this weird little hello kitty- samurai bunny type of pet) is the mp3 players name. Bunny babe goes with us E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E. It holds 128 MB I believe, and that gets filled up pretty quick in this house. We have four lists- Favorites, Playtime, Soothing and sounds. I deleted all pre-loaded music and put her faves on it.

Am I obsessive if the first thing I think of when it plays in the morning is how much I need to shuffle out some old music and put in some new? I want to make sure that when I hit the button in the back and Bunny Babe says "FAVORITES" in a creepy robotic voice- that all the best songs come on in an order GiGi will want to hear them.

I am shaping this mind, not brain washing it - thats what I have to keep telling myself.

So I've decided to change the playlist every 2 days. Thats reasonable for a baby right? Bah. Who knows. I think I'm just starting to wonder if the real reason Im crazy over this playlist and not my own, is that music is important for GiGi. It teaches her things I'll never be able to, it's fun, and it soothes her.

It's also a very public display of my taste i music, and that means anyone listening will judge me. I can't believe I am 27 years old and I still care what people think sometimes.

Oh well, at least I've come to terms with this sad behavior. Now - Without further ado, here is her current playlist:

Favorites:

I Could've danced All Night - Audrey Hepburn
Come To Me - Koop
1234 - Feist
Mariella - Kate Nash
The Way I Am - Ingrid Michelson
West Coast - Coconut Records
Well Respected Man - the Kinks
Chicago - Time Warp - Sufjan Stevens
Tears Dry on Their own - Amy Winehouse
You Got it - Etta James
Time Warp - Rocky Horror Picture Show

Soothing:

Blackbird - The Beatles
Anyone Else but you - Moldy Peaches
Why - Annie Lennox
Love Enough - Michael Franti
Paper Bag - Fiona Apple
Shine a Light - Rolling Stones

Playtime:

Bonjour Bonjour - L'Autobus A Vapeur
Ain't too Proud to Beg - The Temptations
Rebel, Rebel - David Bowie
Chaiyya Chaiyya - Sukhwinder Singh
Chick Habit - April March
3 R's - Jack Johnson
Tiny Cities Made of Ashes - Modest Mouse

Social Butterflies and Frog Handling

2007-12-03T23:30:00.000-08:00

GiGi Ward: 25" Socialite.

My daughter is a busy little kitten sometimes. Thursday she went to a lighted tractor parade, which I can safely say was not all together too entertaining for anyone.

Friday we took pictures for my sister with all of my nieces and Gia. They turned out so cute.

On Saturday morning we got our very first christmas tree as a family. My mom and dad bought one JUST for her. It about 2-1/2' tall and quite adorable.

After we got our trees, which still have yet to be decorated (slackers) we went home to wait for Ryan to arrive. He sent me pictures after he got home - of his walk with Gia and Chloe. They are so cute. The one here is in my driveway - I just had to share. Everyone looks so happy.

After trees, daddy, and mommy hanging paintings onher wall - we headed to Ezrahs 3rd birthday party. Is there something wrong with me, because I am highly entertained by these things and think that all of these events are far more entertaining than anything I would have done before becoming a mama.

Here's another pic - for good measure.

City Tree

2007-11-26T22:18:00.000-08:00

Gia and I - along with Aunt Lea - went into the city this weekend to simply see the Giant Christmas tree they put up in Union Square. I never thought I'd be driving into the city to let my little girl experience Christmas in a COMPLETELY different way than I intended. No lights to enjoy at this point. No Santa image to understand yet. There is however - a local band that performs full songs. Full - funk- musical nastiness, that GiGi danced her tiny pudgey legs to.

I miss being able to just drive a little bit and be in the city. I miss seeing my best girls whenever I want to.

I miss our home.

I know Im here in the place where I grew up, for a wonderful reason which benefits Gia in more ways than I can describe right now; but I miss home.

ps. I swear to pod - I am getting fatter by the day. ugh. Someone make me stop stress snacking.

Gia does Tricks (and other fantastical things)!!

2007-11-17T22:33:00.000-08:00

Gia. Ah yes, that prodigious child of mine that has been keeping me busy during the time I have spent away from the world of blogs. I had no idea being a mother would be so much work. They make it look so easy on TV.

*cough cough*

Since my last blab of news, I quit my job at a company I loved/hated/felt like family at - for 6 years. Gia and I packed up our things and headed home to family. Or is that to my familys' home? Alameda, the Bay, it will always be my home- our home - and we will be back, but for now, being in Madera (yes the Central Valley) is best. Home is where the heart is and my heart is with Gia.

On August 6, 2007, a childrens eye doctor told us that Gia wasn't focusing on things and that it wasn't normal, as we had suspected. He prepared us for the worst. On August 8, 2007 - A pediatric Ophthalmologist confirmed that she has something called O.N.H - Optic Nerve Hypoplasia - and is blind. It has, and will be a bumpy joouney to today, but we are happy that she is still our smiling, adorable daughter. She had an MRI a few weeks ago and the results came back clear as a bell. Her brain is that o a normal - healthy - 7 month old babe. The chances were 70-80% that she WOULD have brain trouble, so the fact that everything s okay , is the most remarkable news one could have.

So, this is why we've moved to my parents home for now. You never really know how loved and held you feel by your mom and dad, until you feel like falling apart.

Before we arrived (September 19th) - there was much merriment and I'd love to share those things in photo detail. A little blogged scrapbook of the extraordinary event Gia has been a part of so far.

June 3, 2007 - Mommy & GiGi
"The Face makers!"

Here's Gia, almost 2 months old and already making the same face that I do. It's a proud moment when you realize the silliness instilled in your own child at 2 months of age.

June 10, 2007 - She laughs, She Cries....Let's face it....she's a typical little woman

June 12, 2007 - "Learning French with Mommy? Ceci est SI fou. Im juste une petite fille!"

June 13, 2007 - "I'm a little piece of polka-dotty candy and my mother just took 467 photos of me"

June 19, 2007 - Big sis' 5th Birthday - we take her to the Zoo. Not to drop her off or anything, but to play in the petting zoo and go "graugghhhhh!" and the Giraffes and Lions. We stepped over to Ocean beach right after that. GiGi visited the SF Zoo and a beach for the first time today!

June 20, 2007 - "Reggae - Bebbae"

July 4, 2007 - Happy 4th of July! We watched the 4th of July parade from our front porch.

July 13, 2007 - Yes, She always looks this happy when doing laundry at the laundromat with her mommy.

July 22, 2007 - Gia the Diva and a visit from her Pop (my dad). 3 months old and already demanding a pair of sunglasses.

July 29, 2007 - see above. Gia's 1st Russell family reunion.
More Portuguese folks than you can shake a filhos at!

July 28, 2007 - see below.
Gia takes a dip in the pool for the first time. As you can see, things don't turn out so well.

July 30, 2007 - Gia makes a friend. Devan is a friend at her Grandparents house (my mom & dad). Evidently, hanging out with a boy makes her want to lick fuzzy thing *sigh* What a nerdy little person I've grown.

August 8, 2007 - First time eating Solids. I should mention that this will be the first and 2nd to las time eating solids. Cereal? How about applesauce mama!

August 3, 2007- Gia and Mommy at Alameda Beach, approx. 0.5 miles from our front door. I loved seeing her little face when the water splashed on her little legs for the first time. The sand on her little tiny babe toes was one of the sweetest things I've ever seen.

August 10, 2007 - 1st live music event @ Alameda Crown memorial Beach/ Crab Cove. We heard the Sun Kings (Beatles cover band) and thus began Gias already blossoming love affair with the Beatles.

August 18, 2007 - One of the best GiGi pics ever. She is 4 months old here. We went on vacation to Mendocino with my oldest sister and her family. GiGi had apple cider popcicles as well. Homeade even!

Power to the Peaceful - 2007

2007-09-08T23:30:00.000-07:00

Power to the Peaceful - 9.8.07
San Francisco / Golden Gate Park
MICHEAL FRANTI!

Yes, you heard it folks. Micheal (insert massive drool/heart skipping beats/ legs shaking/tears of akward geekiness) Franti. The most attractive man alive - inside and out. His music has been a major part of my sanity for the past few years, so any chance I can see him live and it doesnt cost 8 kajillion dollars....Im there.

Power to the Peaceful is an amazing concert that was initially a gathering for art and culture, and gathered folks for the unity of love and the support of Mumia abu Jamal,his innocence, and hopeful realease from prison. (Read: Live from Death Row - this is next on my booklist)
Now the event is a celebration and promotion of social justice.

I'm proud to attend and support these things. My beliefs and those of so many others.

Not just the reason behind it - but the man behind it all, Michael Franti - makes me unbelievably happy to be there. His music means more to me than anyone could ever know. Gia was in my belly the first time I attended the festival and this year she was 4 months old. I had the most humbling, wholesome, clear-minded time there. I will take her every year and make it our tradition.

The Toothless R*ckstar!

2007-06-01T15:37:00.001-07:00

Can you see why I like being with her ALllllllllllllll the time?

Toes & Paint. No wait...Toes IN Paint!!

2007-05-29T11:36:00.000-07:00

I'm a firm believer in having art and music in my babes life, right? Right. Those two areas are so important to me that I thought I would try and incorporate them into her life now. yes - at 2 months old.

Holy shit. She's 8 weeks old.

Im the mother of a 2 month old.

*takes a deep breath*

Let's continue....

So GiGi and I played in the paints today. I took care of the background, and then I had a cute idea to put her feet on it. Little footprints from a tiny girl. Apparently it was much more fun to sliiiiiiiiiide her foot across the canvas. She smiled SO big that I thought I would just let her kick away on the canvas however she wanted to. We came up with some fun stuff. I got a little carried away though and ...um....painted my girl.

Tattoo's and such.

2007-05-28T14:39:00.000-07:00

GiGi has already visited her first tattoo shop, and was quite fussy at MOMS in the haight. Maybe it was the heat/bjor combo, or maybe she just knew that mama doesn't get inked there.

I've gotten all of my tattoos at Zebra in Berkeley, and that is where I will get my next ones- soon.

We stopped in the other day to say hello and introduce little G to her future tattoo artists and spot. She just hung out, as normal as can bee with the sound of ink being placed on others, ringing in her ears. Nothing phases her. She likes all noises - except, oddly enough- me sneezing, and to clear something up, Im not even a LOUD sneezer!

Anywho... I cant wait to have my tattoo, as it was inspired by Gia. She changed my life and I want to imprint on my body what she imprinted in my soul.

Letter

2007-05-27T20:27:00.000-07:00

Dear GiGi,

You're laying on my chest right now...in your pajamas, wiggling around with your face in my neck. Im in my pajamas too, feeling so so so in love with you.

Your my little best friend

My family

My home.

There is no better place or feeling in the entire world.

Thank you for stealing my heart and life.

Love,

Mommy

Napa.

2007-05-26T23:58:00.000-07:00

We visited Napa today. A napa filled with my sis, and her family- and my other sis and her family - who were all visiting. My great Aunt Lorraine was there and I snaped a pic of her and little miss.

arent they sweet.

woman! what did I just say???!

2007-05-25T10:51:00.000-07:00

this is not flattering.