The Daily Drama of a Single Baby Mama

Meet My Boyfriend

2012-02-24T14:58:00.001-08:00

It was recently brought to my attention that I have not provided any details about my boyfriend on my blog. Sorry... especially to my sweet follower Madge Woods. This one is for you!

I met my boyfriend Toby through a friend in July of last year. He was nervous and shy and so, so nice. Much nicer than I am. And cute! He's so cute. He's the kind of guy who takes a CPR class for fun and then months later finds a woman drowing in the water and pulls her out and saves her life. Nevermind that she was trying to commit suicide and he totally ruined her plan (ok, so he's not that nice)...

It has to be interesting dating a single mom. I don't think it's easy. It takes a special man to see the joy and beauty in parenting when it isn't their child. I know these men are out there because I know many of them, and I'd always hoped that I would find one like this. He comes over around dinner time when we're tired and things are a little chaotic. He plays trucks with Bay until I finish cooking and then sets the table. He does the dishes while I give Bay a bath and put him to bed, and then rubs my shoulders on the couch until I usually fall asleep, or am so pooped out that I can hardly have a conversation. Nevermind that he's a 30 year old healthy young man... I'm just too tired.

He knows that I can't just go grab drinks with friends, and staying out late means midnight. He understands that I need notice before doing anything that requires finding a babysitter, and he never tries to parent my child.

He's a test fisherman for the state, meaning he fishes every day for his job. He collects data on Salmon and gets to be outside on the water. Maybe that's why he is so cool and calm - he's one with the sea every day. He takes beautiful photos of the whales, eagles and other wildlife he sees, but says he's not a photographer.

It has been a slow and healthy relationship. We have taken the time to get to know each other... not jumping in to anything. It has been nice and I am still getting to know him a little more each day. I'm constantly surprised and amazed at his thoughtfulness, willingness to help, and his understanding of my life. He's never said a negative word about my son, his dad, or my situation. He supports me and loves me for who I am - which can be a whole lot of impatience and exhaustion. He drives me crazy sometimes (it can't always be rainbows and sunshine, he's a picky eater for goodness sake), and we've had a few disagreements, but in the end, we're learning about each other and I want to know more!

So there you go, Madge, now you know about my Toby.

How To: Break the 'Round and 'Round with Your Co-Parent

2012-02-24T14:35:00.002-08:00

I started checking out other blogs to get inspired, and to also see how to pump up my volume and attract more readers. Turns out, I am not a fashion blogger, nor a "how to" blogger, and I don't review products. I shop at thrift stores for my new clothes, add water to my mascara to make it last longer, and just learned how to curl my own hair so I don't think I should be showing anyone else. I guess I'm not in the cool blogger group.

I started thinking about all of the things that I know how to do. Most of them are centered around being a single mom, and others are about... well, parenting, so I guess that still falls into the "single mom" category because I'm a mom who parents and his dad lives 4 miles away.

Just because I so badly want to fit into the blogger world of many photos, few words, and how to demonstrations, I have decided to share my insight on a topic that I was recently asked about.

My good friend is also a single mom. She is absolutely gorgeous, has a rockin' job, and an 18 month old. Back and forth, back and forth... she keeps testing out her baby daddy and he keeps acting the same way - like a douche bag. She asked me how to break the pattern - how to move on and eventually have a civil relationship with him without feelings - good or bad.

When you have a child with someone, everything around you tells you that you should be with that person. It will be easier on the child, people will accept you more if you are a two parent household, it makes more sense financially, and it is just what we are raised to believe! You see them frequently, speak or text with them daily, and share the one thing that you love the most. It's hard to "make the break" and carry on with your life without them having an impact on your daily stress level or new relationships.

The song goes, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!" Oops... fucked that one up.

For all of the "oops" parents out there who know it won't work but can't quite figure out how to break it off, here's my advice on how to distance yourself from the one person who will always be around:

1. Block them on facebook. If you want them out of your life (as much as possible), you don't need to see who they were with or what they were doing. It will only bring out that fire in your chest (aka anxiety) that makes you do crazy things and make crazy assumptions. Outta sight, outta mind - at least while scoping out facebook. This doesn't give you any extra fuel for your fire... and it's a fire you want to go out.

2. Change their name to something boring in your phone - like their initials, or "_____'s dad." Also, give them a distinct ring and text signal so that you know what you are about to see on your phone, or if you need to let it go to voicemail. Letting it go to voicemail and then responding with a text or email is a great way to stay neutral. Again, working on how to keep that anxiety level low.

3. Give yourself a time frame. This is a big one. See if you can go 3-6 weeks without engaging in any extra conversation. Obviously contact each other if there is an issue with your child, but take out the chit chat, the favors, the check ins and be a single parent! No need to make a big announcement to the other parent. You can simply say, "I need some space and time to regroup, can we email if we need to talk and stick to a plan just for a while?" And leave it at that.

4. Stick to a parenting plan. Like, for real. Send calendar requests to set the schedule (that's already in your plan) and set clear rules for pick up/drop off and notice for a change in the plan.

5. Think about your future. You want a good relationship with this other person, and time is your friend. Take the 3-6 weeks to establish new boundaries and patterns. Maybe you were flexible about your parenting plan, making communication more frequent - but if you have a set plan, there really isn't a reason to be in touch. Let distance assist you in healing and moving on.

6. Use email to communicate when you absolutely need to. If there are things that you need to discuss regarding updates about your child, maybe send an email once a week that has the facts. Using email is a great way to communicate, and you get to re-read what you write before you send it.

7. Be nice. Really. I have a hard time with this one... but I have realized it is very important. If you are starting a new relationship with this person, one where they are simply the parent of your child, you should respect them and try to get along with them. Just remember that they are a good person (ok, not allll of them), and that they want to be in your child's life, so be a good parent and put your BS to the side (as best you can). You don't need to speak with them, but you don't have to be mean either. Remember, they're going to be around for a lonnnnng time.

I'm still learning... and know that it can be oh so complicated, but these steps can certainly help.

Crap, I forgot to add a zillion pictures to my post to make it interesting! Ooooops.

I Wanna Dance

2012-02-19T14:53:00.000-08:00

Party rock is in the house tonight... and every night.

I know most kids like to dance. Youtube has provided millions of videos of two-year-olds mimicking Beyonce and Michael Jackson's moves.

My kid likes to dance. A lot. Every day.

I remember when he was four months old, we would play Airplanes by B.O.B. and he would stop crying immediately. Then, when he wasn't much older than that, he'd start to bob his head a little to the beat. He was walking by 10 months old and that meant full on dance parties. My sister started it, actually. Aunt Liz would come over and they would dance and dance. Whenever he would see her he would automatically think, "dance" and they would laugh and move for a good hour before quitting. Now, it has become part of our daily routine. He thinks it's just another thing that we do. Breakfast, get dressed, dance party, lunch...

My abs have never looked better and I've never felt more like a back up dancer for J Lo than I do every day in my living room with my two-year-old. I'm serious - I whip out moves that I didn't even know I had in me and feel like the coolest rock star in the world. It's therapeutic... and I don't work out at the gym so dancing makes me feel like I'm really active. Lady Gaga, Foster the People, Dev and Jessie J are at the top of our rock out list at the moment and we're always looking for new jams.

He closes his eyes, pumps a fist, throws himself on the ground... whatever the music tells his small body to do, he does it. Sometimes we'll choreograph a dance and he tries so hard to get it right. Other times he's happy if I just spin him around in circles until we (ok, actually just "I") feel like throwing up. He's the most physical little guy I know - jumping, dancing, riding bikes. or running as fast as he can. He's napping right now, and I know that I have about an hour until our next dance party. As tired as I am, and as many other things as I have to do, I can never turn down my little man when he tugs on me and asks, "mama, can we dance now? Come on, it's fun." I mean, how much longer is he going to want to dance care-free with his mom in his living room?

So, GO, DANCE like nobody is watching you. I promise it will be the best thing you do all day.

Survivor: One Hot World

2012-02-17T15:40:00.000-08:00

People talk smack about my love for Survivor. I love it, I do. I love it so much and am proud to say that I have only missed one season and it was because I was in Spain for six months and hulu didn't exist. My whole family watches it - we can count on a discussion about whose strategy is best and if the winner actually deserved the million dollar prize at the end.

Each season has it's own vibe to it, and to be honest, my loyalty to the show has been a little up in the air because I've been bored. Because it's been on for so many seasons (24, actually), the cast knows the strategy and what the smart things to say and do are when they step foot onto their new tropical soil. The producers have made it entertaining with crazies and the occasional repeat castmate, but hot damn, they made it SO GOOD this season which premiered last night on CBS. Let me explain why...

photos from therealityjunkies.com.

His name is Jay. He's 25. He's kind of dumb. And he is so friggin' hot.

This is Matt. Oh, helllllllo. He's kind of an ass... I want to pinch his ass. Or his nipples. Ok, both.

And this is Michael... He's not the "10" that his competitors are, but he's pretty cute. And hey, he's from Seattle, so he's cool.

Finally! Hot guys on Survivor! And they are all shirtless. I swear, when I saw Jay rubbing sticks together to make fire... I almost had to turn off the show. All of my primal instincts started movin' and shakin' and I wanted to become a gatherer for my hunter.

It's everything I've been waiting for and everything the producers half way deliver every season. Survivor One World, I'm going to make you my whole world every Wednesday night at 8pm. Thank you.

Oh, and love you Toby (my boyfriend)!

Lake Quinault

2012-02-13T19:14:00.000-08:00

I just got beat by Judy at cards in the main lodge. She's 65 and from Beaumont, Texas and had a thick and sweet southern twang. She asked Toby and I if she could play cards with us because she was absolutely furious with her husband Clay. You see, he ordered a pizza with mushrooms on it and she hates mushrooms. She also hates television except for CNN, FOX, 700 Club and the Young and the Restless. She also doesn't like wine, seafood, cell phones, or Mormons because her 21 year old daughter just married one. She told her husband that he needed to go back to his room alone because she couldn't even look at his face. She told us this when she sat down with us and asked us what we would do in the situation. I told her that I had bought several snacks for our trip to the Lake Quinault Lodge in the Olympic National Park rain forest, and all of them had sesame seeds in them... Toby is allergic to sesame seeds. I'm not totally sure what I would do in her situation. Then she beat me at Spite and Malice and Gin Rummy. Oh Judy...

Toby and I hiked five miles today... through lush moss that hung from branches and old growth trees that are a thousand years old. My cell phone still worked (thank God), but I felt completely removed from anything busy. I had nowhere to be, and nothing to do except observe a gorgeous waterfall, crack open a Pacifico on the trail, snap tons of photos and pee sitting on a nursing log. It was absolutely breathtaking and I got to do it with my love.

We saw the world's largest Sitka Spruce tree today. It was really friggin' huge. On the way to the tree, we completely missed the signs and ended up down a beautiful road containing farms and old trees... and Elk. Toby had been dying to see Elk (and a cougar, which I did NOT want to see), and there in the road were 20 huge Elk just staring us down.

When we stopped in Forks at the chamber of commerce which really only contained Twilight paraphernalia, the lady who worked there told us she had nine dogs and an elk-proof fence that was 12 feet high and had special links or something. Then she told us that the Elk still managed to kick her dog in the head through the fence. I did not want to get any closer to the big brown beauties.

We counted 12 eagles on the drive, which took us over ferries, along rivers and through quaint towns. We stopped at multiple junk stores, and enjoyed each other's company the entire weekend. My hair was softer from the pure water... my skin glowing. It was so gorgeous (Lake Quinault AND my hair). I can't wait to go back again for more!

Deliciously Green

2012-02-04T18:22:00.000-08:00

Another favorite recipe for ya'll.

I've always been a smoothie fan... I mean, who isn't? But I have been so bored.

I had dinner with my friend Linda last month and she inspired me to mix it up a little in the blender. Every day I've been substituting either breakfast or lunch with a smoothie that has the following:

A handful of Kale
A whole carrot (or half depending on the size)
A scoop of peanut butter (or almond butter)
Half of a banana
Half of a peeled orange
1 Cup of unsweetened almond milk
4 Ice Cubes

This has been my favorite mixture, but you can add yogurt should you be tolerant, spinach, berries, frozen peaches, a handful of nuts instead of the butter, orange juice, or whatever else you find in your fridge. Experiment and throw in the greens! You really can't taste them... but your body can.

REAL-ationship Reel: The Ex Factor

2012-02-03T13:34:00.000-08:00

Maybe you are married and this isn't a problem that you will be facing anytime soon... but it's also something that you could have experienced before that pretty little ring made a nice home on your finger. Or you could be like me and have the friends who continuously add their masochism mask to their skinny jeans and pumps.

Sleeping with an ex is a bad idea no matter which way you look at it. When someone you know admits to this behavior, the confession (soooo, I accidentally slept with ______ last night) is usually followed by a justification phrase like:

I am just bored...
It doesn't mean anything. It's fine. Right?
I just needed to feel good about myself for a night.
He called... and it's easy. I don't know.

It's never that easy. We go back to the ex after our hearts are wounded because it's familiar and in a state of unknown and heartache, we try to seize control in whatever way we can. Unfortunately for most people, it comes in the form of an ex.

The Scoop: My friend Jess just broke up with her boyfriend of two years. She's been single for about three months and is trying to date, but hasn't found her next relationship quite yet. Every time I talk to her, she will mention that her ex called her, she invited him over, and that they had slept together. Then she explains that she took him to the airport the next day for his trip to Vegas and is planning on picking him up in two more days, and if she's still "bored," maybe she'll insist that he just come home with her.

What I Told Her: Ever heard of that saying "when one door closes another one opens?" Tying up your energy and relationship void with an ex is exhausting. They are an EX for a reason. If you are that focused on finding a boyfriend, you won't be able to see clearly enough when a good one comes along because you are still playing "catch up" with the one who couldn't quite cut it at one point. And for heaven's sake - he's using you for a ride to the airport! Also, if you need the attention of another person so incredibly much that you go against your gut and send the text that says it's ok for them to stop by, you need to find a hobby - something that makes you happy. Look deep inside and figure out why the validation of another person is so important to you. Sure Jess wants to get married and have kids - and I have no doubt that it will happen for her. Hooking up with the ex is not getting her any closer to that dream - it's only creating another obstacle that she will have to overcome.

Many girls (and guys) use rebounding to heal and stay distracted after a tough break up. They suppress their feelings and eventually move on without every healing from the experience. Another wounded lover, set free.

I'm no innocent angel over here, but I have learned a thing or two about clean breaks. It's the only way to go... it's not called a "break up" for nothin'. Staying friends is a slippery slope. One of my therapists explained to me that remaining friends after a break up is selfish because it is keeping them around to maintain a certain amount of control over the situation, so that you don't have to feel the pain of losing someone completely. I've tried to be friends with an ex before and it's just too hard, emotional and confusing for me. An ex is a great way to learn about relationships and yourself, but then close the door and move on.

Again, I'm no expert, but I do love sharing my opinion about relationships, as you may have read on the last Real-ationship Reel.

If you have just gone through a break up, here are some break up tips that usually work for me.

1. Cut off all communication.

2. Block them on facebook or wherever you can see them - nobody needs a trip down memory lane during recovery.

3. Tell your friends you do not want to hear about seeing him out with his friends or other girls, even if you are prettier than she was.

4. Listen to good music.

5. Really feel the sadness. It's ok to mourn the loss of a relationship.

6. Remember that every day gets a little easier.

7. Don't drink too much. Alcohol messes with your dopamine levels and can make you feel even worse, even if drinking your tears away sounds like a great idea.

8. Stay busy.

9. Don't blame yourself and worry about what you could have done - life's too short and there are too many single people out there.

10. Put things into perspective... remind yourself of all of the reasons you are blessed and have a good life.

Remember, when one door closes, another one opens... so get your lip gloss and pumps out and ready for when you hear a tappin' on that door.

Purple Slide

2012-02-01T19:47:00.000-08:00

I love french fries. My boyfriend, Toby, also loves them and I knew he was the one for me when he brought me a bag of them from Dick's on our third date. I've started a tradition with Baylor and we get a small fries from McDonald's on Frie-days (when I remember and really feel the need for greasy salt). We go through the drive through and I always feel like an asshole for using my debit card for a $1.69 order of fries. Must remember cash for fries.

We've only been inside of McDonald's once and sat in the kid zone area. Baylor was too nervous to climb and instead opted for this lame padded box that had a steering wheel in it for the younger kids. This time, he was ready for the climb. This particular McDonald's doesn't have the ball pit... it is just a 25 foot castle of hamster tubes that eventually end in a slide. A happy meal and bottle of hand sanitizer sat on the table as Baylor eyed the large tube structure.

Finally, after some surveying, Bay asked if he could climb up and go down the slide, I said "yes" and to be careful and quickly figured out that the tubes acted as a telephone and I could yell up the one he was attempting to come down. After a few times down the medium level green slide, he followed up a group of four year old girls to the very top. I don't know if he was just trying to impress them of if it just took a little support to actualize his dream of sliding down a winding tube, but he did it. Over and over again he made his way to the top and then down again. He'd pop out of the purple tunnel with a smile across his ketchup covered face. "Can I do it again, mama?!"

I met another mom with a little boy about the same age as Bay. While he was climbing, we chatted about how her son had been stuck inside the last time they were there and now he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. I was telling her that I had been worried that that would happen in the past, but now he clearly seemed to be an expert.

Then he screamed. Not one of those gradual screams... like when they can't find you and after calling your name over and over start screaming in fear. This was a scream that had me fully prepared to find him with a bone out of a socket or blood running from his mouth.

Faster than I knew I could climb, I bolted up the twists and turns of the multi-colored tubes. Up and up, I followed his screams getting more scared about what I was going to see. Right, left, dead end, other way... up and up, follow the screams.

There, sitting at the tippiest top platform, in his basketball jersey and matching shorts (because that's what he picked out today) with sticky feet and tears covering his pink cheeks, a perfectly fine but frightened baby sat wailing.

"Are you OK?!" I was sure he was in shock.

"WAAAAAAA!"

"BAYLOR. Are you hurt? Are you ok? What happened?"

And like he completely forgot why he had been screaming bloody murder for the last two minutes he said,

"Hey mama. What are you doing up here? Go back down! I'm going down the purple slide."

Knees throbbing from slamming them on hard plastic at a drastic incline, I crunched around him to do a final inspection and said he could go down the purple slide. The tube shook each time that I had moved, and while I was glad that Baylor was fine, I was sure that my weight would break the screws and we would go crashing to the ground.

"You go back down there!" He pointed to the way that I had come up, short and steep tubes with climbing ridges nailed in. I pretended that I would go back down only long enough for him to slowly make his way down to the bottom of the structure.

Then, I sat myself at the top of the purple slide and kicked my feet up to swirl around to the bottom.

My new mom friend laughed a little when I popped out, remembering her similar rescue experience. I rolled my eyes and told Baylor to sit down, disinfect, and finish his food. I needed to get home and ice my knees.

Now, hours later, I have two beautiful bruises decorating my pasty legs... not exactly the coloring I want (I get really upset every year right around now about how white and dry I get in winter. I'm taking double my vitamin D tomorrow).

There's nothing worse than hearing your child scream and not be able to reach them. When we got there, part of me wanted to tell him he couldn't go up just because I knew that if something happened I wouldn't be able to get to him quickly. Am I not supposed to let him try things, though? Get a little roughed up by other kids and figure out how to cope if he gets turned around in a rainbow of tunnels?

It's good for him.... not so good for my knees. Eff you Ronald, and your colored tunnels too.

How to completely change your life in just two weeks.

2012-02-01T14:34:00.000-08:00

My brother is so cool... getting cooler by the day too. Here's what happened:

To be totally honest, $55k per year to attend University of Puget Sound in Tacoma was just too much money for my family. My brother is 18 and has no idea what he wants to do with his future (other than be awesome), so walking away with over $200k in loans was just absurd. Not to mention, Tacoma smells (I went to school in Tacoma too) and although the campus is gorgeous, it isn't where he wanted to be, and he knew it.

My mom sat him down and asked him how much he loved it... $200k worth? While he made some amazing friendships, and loved playing football for the Loggers, he knew he could be doing something more. When he graduated from high school last June, there was so much pressure to attend a four year university. Pressure to play football, and live in a dorm with the other kids who had just left their homes for college. I agree and understand that this is all very important, but living in San Diego on the beach attending community college to save some cash and have some fun sounds very important as well. Suddenly not attending a four year right out of high school wasn't as big of a deal - he realized that nobody really cares, and if they do care, who cares? So he packed his car...

He was snowed in at our mom's house on Whidbey Island the day he was supposed to drive south to the sun. My parents were panicked and worried about his determination to make the trek over the snowy passes... after killing a few days playing in the snow and even building an igloo, he finally hopped in his jeep and arrived in San Diego two days later.

Just seven days before his arrival, he had made the decision to move. On day five, he signed up for classes at Mesa college, withdrew from his last school, and spent a day making sure of the credits that would transfer and what would happen to his financial aid. Then he left!

He stayed with my fabulous aunt Christy until today... he finished loading the last of his items into his new place last night. That's right, he found a place just a few houses down from the beach with two guys who go to USD. In the middle of moving, he bopped over to a hot spot cafe called Cafe Mono for a job interview... apparently Lady Gaga was just there for a coffee. Knowing him, he'll get the job, and they'll probably make him employee of the week or something by the end of his first week.

My little brother reminded me how important it is to take risks. He's never been one to do things in order to fit in - being nice to everyone and winning them over with his good looks and charm has kept him at the top of social circles and in good standing with his superiors. And now I know he has balls. I am so proud of him for trusting his gut that he didn't want to stay at UPS because he wasn't totally happy... he had been dreaming about something else just a few states away and he did it. He made it happen. There won't be the opportunity to pack up and move away from everything and everyone forever - he has truly seized the day and is making it happen. Insert very cliche quote about following your dreams and making shit happen here.

It has been two and a half weeks since he decided to go and he has a new school, awesome place to live, a new job and a few friends. Success! Can't wait to live vicariously through my little bro because that's what I do these days... Each picture text of the beach he sends me makes me daydream about being 18 in southern California with few responsibilities and a beach cruiser... and tan legs... and surfers... and really perky boobs.

Soup for the Soul... and my fridge.

2012-01-30T14:12:00.000-08:00

After a year of breast feeding, and then having a walking toddler, it seems that I'm always hungry, and usually filling up on goldfish crackers instead of a real meal. I also forget to pee, but that's fine because I hardly drink water anymore, so hey. No food means I get cranky... and nobody, I mean NOBODY likes a cranky mama. I started making soups each week to keep in my fridge so that I could just warm up a bowl for lunch. Fast, easy, and little thought. This soup is my favorite and is also my go-to recipe when I'm making a meal for a friend who is sick, or just had a baby, etc. It's also one of Baylor's faves.

Allison's Chicken Tortilla Soup

I buy the Knorr chicken bullion cubes from the store, but you can get concentrated chicken broth packs from trader joes if that's where you shop. All of this can be found at tjs.

6 cups chicken stock (6 cups water, 3 knorr cubes)
2/3 cup white rice
1 can fire roasted tomatoes (you can buy the spicy ones if you like an extra kick!)
1 can black beans (rinsed)
1 can corn (drained)
1 chopped onion
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp chili powder
2 tbs lime juice
1 shredded chicken breast (or, sometimes I'll use a rotisserie chicken and the meat is super soft and almost disintegrates into the soup, but that chicken is super salty on it's own, so add an extra cup of water, or only do 2.5 cubes of knorr and 6 cups of water, just fyi).
Sliced avocado, crumbled tortilla chips, cheese, cilantro for topping if you like!

I throw everything (except chicken breast) into a pot, cover and bring it to a boil for 30 mins to make sure the rice is cooked, then I lower the heat and let it just simmer for a couple of hours. I add chick breast after I cook it in a pan on the burner and shred it... approx 15 mins into the soup cooking. It can be ready to eat in an hour if you don't have lots of time.

Let me know if you have any questions!

My Bay-be

2012-01-29T07:42:00.000-08:00

My baby is now a kid. A boy. I don't know how it happened, or when, but he's big and smart and amazing me every day. Singing in the car, operating a laptop or an ATV, helping me put groceries in the cart, or requesting a napkin for his lap - he's big.

Why does it feel so scary to watch them grow up? Movie after book after mother weeping at her child's wedding - I now understand the upset of raising a child and having them leave. I know I'm a little ahead of myself here... he's only 2 and a half... but I'm seeing his passions, his sense of humor and his obsession with "getting bigger."

He told me yesterday that he had finished all of his dinner so that he could grow bigger and be big like me. He also told me that he would have hair in his armpits some day and then I got grossed out. I don't want him to have hair anywhere but his head.

I'm so lucky to have a healthy, beautiful, growing child, I know. I'm in amazement that I could create something so wonderful.

I started thinking about day-to-day life as a mom. I am lucky to be able to work less than 20 hours per week and stay at home with him during the day. The question often comes up - so you stay at home with him - what do you do all day?

I remember when I worked for the real estate developer. Every day was busy... emails, facebooking, conference calls, spreadsheets, meetings - the work never ended and I felt this sense of pressure and stress to complete all of my tasks. It's the same with being at home. I feel stress and pressure to make sure the toys are away, to make sure lunch is at 12:15 and that my laundry is done and put away. Nobody comes over every day... it's not like I host gatherings or guests from out of town. There really isn't a reason to vacuum at 5pm every other day, other than to make sure it looks clean and that I have done my jobs. It gives me a sense of importance and structure. It's the same way while I nanny. Sure, I'm playing with play doh and blocks, but it's important to be engaged with the babes while they play and to make up fun stories about elephants who can fly. It may not be the same as making million dollar decisions on which finishes will look best in a high end condo unit, but it's my new job and it's important.

We're watching Finding Nemo (for the hundredth time) because it's 6:30am... the beginning of my 14 hour work day. Baylor has started making himself the main character of any movie or show we watch, "look, mom, I'm swimming away from the whale." His imagination, sincerity in his beliefs and need to tell me which characters are good and bad remind me that he is changing and maturing every day. The mess is worth it... the sleepless nights are fine... only buying sencond hand clothes - who cares? It's a pretty fun gig, and it isn't going to be here forever.

I remember holding his whole body on my lap - even stretched out he didn't fill the space. Now he's almost too heavy for me to hold, but I don't ever want to put him down.

REAL-ationship Reel

2012-01-28T20:53:00.000-08:00

Holy smokes, I've got the jitters. I am on day nine of a very nasty, terrible cold and I stopped drinking coffee and alcohol cold turkey so that I could protect my clearly weak immune system. That is until I had a strong latte this morning after a long night of no sleep with my sweet little child. Now I'm pumped up and ready to buzz around... except I have nowhere to go. I'm also sweating... not so sure I've missed you, coffee.

I've decided to write a weekly piece about relationships. I am no expert, at all, really. But I took enough psychology classes in college to make it my major and I'm going back for my masters degree this fall for couples and family therapy, so maybe I'm "in training" to become an expert? Man, I hope I can call myself an expert some day. Either way, I find relationship troubles fascinating and also find that I can't help myself when it comes to advice. The words start pouring out of my mouth and imaginary little glasses appear on my nose and meditation rocks are sitting next to my antique thinking chair on a side table that also hold a box of tissues (it's like a combo of my favorite parts of all of my therapist's offices). I flip on my therapist switch and it feels so good. Again, I have no idea what I'm talking about, really, but I've had enough of my own relationship troubles and a few life experiences to know a little about a little. I'd also love to hear what other people think... call it "taking real life notes" from the crowd. So please, let me know what you think... I did!

Carrie and Ken

The Scoop: Carrie and Ken have only been married for a year. Carrie called me the other day to let me know that she feels like something is missing in her relationship with her husband... she doesn't even want to kiss him. They spend almost all of their time together because they both work from home. The very last thing Carrie wants at the end of the day - a day where she woke up next to Ken, ate breakfast with Ken, brushed her teeth with Ken and then worked next to Ken, only to get into bed next to him again at the end of it - is to have him literally all over her. Their physical intimacy is gone. She loves him and feels important to him. She's not mad at him. It's just that they are overexposed and she doesn't have that excitement that she once used to.

What I Told Her: Physical intimacy doesn't have to only be sex. It can come as a back massage or holding hands at random times during the day. Sometimes going away for a weekend by yourself to get a break (and yes, I think a small break is a-ok) so that you start to miss the other person a little can create excitement. I also told her to build up a little tension once in a while by sending a dirty text, even though he's just at his computer in the other room - make it playful. Getting out of the house alone to do something fun... a date... can help to make the relationship feel special again. When a woman is mad, she pulls away and doesn't want to "get close" to her man, while most men need that physical connection to reassure them that everything is ok. It's like nature's little way of forcing us to get everything out in the open... or stay miserable and lonely in a relationship. Carrie and Ken are in a funk... and I think they should mix it up a little to get things back on track.

Real experts say that passion in a relationship lasts about six months... and in rare cases up to two years. Just like everything else in a relationship, passion takes work, creativity, communication, and a little compromise. First things first, talk about it with your hubby, Carrie... let him know how you are feeling and come up with a plan for passion. I hope it works!

Where's my.... BRAIN?!

2012-01-10T13:18:00.000-08:00

I'm a wreck. No really, I am.

I don't know what happened to me, but I have never been organized. I always turned my homework in on time, I like my house clean, and am usually pretty punctual (very punctual before Baylor), but have never known where my keys ran off to, or what happened to my friggin' phone. It seems that the important items in my life have lives of their own and fit me in when it is convenient for them.

My mom isn't the most organized either. I'm going to go ahead and blame her for not teaching me how to label or hang my clothes in groups by color. Although, my sister keeps everything together and we grew up in the same household, so I guess my blaming game isn't going to get me very far. I blame my birthday... Leos aren't the most structured people. We're more social! More about fun! Except when being unorganized totally ruins the fun and you just end up feeling like a loser.

I realized my passport was lost in 2010 when I missed a trip to Mexico with 10 of my friends. Sucked to be me. You'd think I would have run out and replaced that cute little blue book so that something like that didn't happen again... but it costs money, and I haven't been rolling in the dough, so I just put it off until I decided I'd be traveling internationally again.

My best friend Jen invited Toby and I to Whistler, Canada with her and her boyfriend. I've had notice. Known about the trip. She sent organized emails. Details. Time lines. Rental numbers and prices for skis. I decided that I'd just get my passport card, or Enhanced Driver's License. I read on the site that you can get it the same day if you go to a certain office downtown. So I waited. Procrastinated. What was the rush?

Upon looking at all of the requirements online while I was just trying to find the office address, I saw that I needed my birth certificate. No problem! I'd just grab it from my files and get the whole thing done. Oh crap... can't find it.

A notary, check, and form later, I mailed my birth certificate request to San Diego. It said it would be here in three weeks at the longest and I had three weeks and three days until it was time to drive up to the snowy peaks.

I was going to use my sister's passport if I didn't receive my docs by "go time." But then I read that I could spend up to a year in jail if I got caught. So... that won't work.

Here I am, on Tuesday... supposed to leave on Friday. No birth certificate. No passport. No enhanced license. No trip to Whistler with my favorite people. If my birth certificate comes tomorrow, I can totally pay $550 to get my passport expedited for Friday. You know, just $550.

What is wrong with me? Why didn't I get this taken care of before? Why didn't I just mail in the documents when I missed the Mexican vacation 18 months ago? Who am I?! I feel so stupid! So dumb.

On top of all of this, I got my hair cut on Sunday and I hate it. Absolutely hate it. I feel like Rachel from Friends in 1998. It's weird.

New lesson: Don't wait until the last minute. Just don't do it. I'm going to reprogram my brain, I swear! Or get a personal assistant...

Potty Talk

2012-01-07T13:50:00.000-08:00

I can only remember peeing my pants once. Though I'm sure it happened multiple times as a toddler transitioning out of diapers, the only time I remember was when I was eight years old. I was at my best friend Gena's house for the first time and we were walking down her street pushing dolls in strollers. I can't remember what let the warmth take over my jeans and then turn to cold, but it happened and I was mortified. I immediately tried to locate a small puddle to "fall" in so that I could wash away the urine with road water and nobody would know what had happened. I think I found a small circle of water in the road, and sat down in it, but Gena's mom still knew what had happened. She lovingly changed my clothes and didn't mention it at all.

Potty training is gross. It really is. There's so much discussion about pee-pee and poo-poo and pull-ups, diapers, big boy underwear and wearing nothing but pants. There's a plethora of choices, and so many suggestions and methods for kicking the Pampers. Everything I've read says not to push them (especially boys) if they're not ready, so I keep giving in to whatever mood he's in regarding what to wear under his pants. We're on week three or four of consistently going pee in the potty, and number two only a few times. We still need a pull-up for that. He has tried standing to pee, which is very messy. He sits and then says he needs to wipe, which is hard to explain why he doesn't need to and that only girls do - but in reality, there's sort of pee all over, so maybe wiping when he's done would be helpful? He wants to do it by himself, so sometimes, he concentrates so hard that his shirt falls into the stream and he stands up so proud of the pool in the potty with a huge wet circle across his belly. There's urine all over my bathroom and thank goodness I didn't invest in a fancy bath mat - it's sort of become his drip mat.

We've only had one accident, and he peed all over my couch. That was a neat clean up process.

When did privacy, shame, embarrassment and bodily function independence come into play? After Bay peed on our couch, he was devastated. I told him it was fine, changed him, gave him a smooch and told him to try to go to the potty next time, and then we turned on some music and started stripping the cushions. He cried and apologized, and then he refused to wear anything but a diaper for the next day or so for fear that he'd lose control again. He was embarrassed. My innocent little sweet baby was embarrassed.

Now he's telling me to leave and shut the door when he goes potty. He asks for a napkin to wipe his face if a crumb lingers. He asks me if his clothes "look cool." A baby he is not... an aware member of society he is becoming. He cares what people think... only a little, but still. I knew it was only a matter of time, but it just happens so quickly. I wish I could protect him from ever being embarrassed and shield him from shame (maybe shame is alright...). I want him to remember to be himself and to own up to his decisions and that deviating from the "norm" is a-ok with me if it's what works for him. I'd never given all of it much thought until I saw the devastation in his face after he turned my couch into a urinal. It was like he was hunting for that puddle to sit down in - to blame it on something else.

So many transitions. I told him he can sleep in a big boy bed when he doesn't need diapers anymore - but really I'm just stalling on the big boy bed because I don't want him standing at my pillow at 5am to say "good morning." I'll probably just get on amazon right now and buy a book about that too. But then what if he starts wetting the bed? Geez. After potty training and big boy beds, am I done with big changes? What comes next? Right when I think I'm caught up, something else changes and I'm scrambling to adjust. I guess this is called parenthood.

Ok gotta run... I have to pee.

TwentyTwelve

2012-01-02T15:14:00.000-08:00

My New Year's resolution was going to be to stop talking smack about people. It's not really talking "smack" as much as it's just talking about people because I like to know what's happening. Occasionally I will be harshly judgemental and critical and share my two cents with whoever is sharing, while still acting nice to someone's face - and that's what I'm going to try my hardest to eliminate. It's just nasty. I did, however, sit next to two women in their late 20s who discussed every person that they knew and what was wrong with them during breakfast. They covered whose wedding would be fun in 2012, who was bound to break up (Allison and Dave are totally out), and when they think they'll find their next boyfriends. They typed all of these conversations out into a Word document and had a total of six pages when I walked past their laptop and took a hard glance on what was happening on the screen. That, my friends, is really talking smack. I've got nothin' on them and may have to come up with a new resolution because their show this morning made me feel like a saint.

It's funny how much hype people create about new year's eve. Saying "goodbye" to a year as if things are going to be totally different when they wake up on the 1st. And then "2012 is going to be great, I know it!" covers facebook as soon as we wake. Maybe if they say it, it will be true? I suppose there's good intention here and it's better than waking up with the glass half empty, but I've learned that there's just no way to know what to expect and all I can do is roll with the punches. But I'll say it anyway, "2012 is going to be epic." There. So now it better be.

After an evening of dinner and parties, Toby and I rowed out into Lake Union from his house boat to watched the fireworks explode into the clear night. We held each other, both bundled in sweatshirts and life jackets and he told me how much he loves and appreciates me... and my family. I told him that I've never been happier. And then people in the house boat behind us started jumping into the lake.

I clicked back through some of my posts and re-read the one from last new year's day. I can remember what I was wearing when I wrote it. I remember typing the words. I remember wondering what I would be doing on January 1, 2012. I remember it like it was yesterday, and yet so much has changed this past year.

I've learned that...

Having a child is the most incredible journey that anyone can take.
Singing in the car is a must... especially if it's to the Lion King.
No means NO.
Being patient will get you anywhere.
A good vacuum is a life saver.
Abuse can come in many shapes, sizes, genders, and roles... get away as fast as you can.
Always having goldfish on you can get anyone out of low blood sugar crankies.
It's hard to read anything after reading The Hunger Games.
Potty training is a bitch. And so is still changing diapers.
Santa Claus is real.
Throwing things away is just fine. Great, in fact. Especially toys.
Value Village is my heaven.
I love being back in a classroom.
It doesn't matter how small my boobs are now... because I remember how they used to be.
Nice guys are best.
Asking for help doesn't make you weak... and living on a budget doesn't make you lame.
Whoever thought the twos were terrible clearly never had children.

2011 was full of fun, love, new friends, new relationships, and constant learning. I've never been more stressed, overwhelmed, or busy in my life and I have a feeling this pace is not getting slower any time soon.

I just hope that Mayan calendar is a bunch of crap and I'll remember writing this post during the Bachelor (does anyone else think this Ben guy is weird looking?) next year. May you all be happy and healthy in 2012!

Decked.

2011-12-26T07:30:00.000-08:00

Holy POW, Batman, it has been a wild week... and a little emotionally exhausting, actually.

I found out that my best friend's mom has cancer on Thursday, and on Friday I sat in a court room for two hours with my son's dad to meet with a judge for a whole 3.5 seconds to finalize and file our parenting plan. A plan that he told me immediately afterward he'd just broken by introducing the woman he's dating to our son well before the 12 week rule. Mama bear came out. She did. She's still out. Don't mess with my baby. And don't mess with the rules.

Christmas was rushed and not exactly picturesque. My parents are divorced meaning there's a couple of houses we have to stop by each year. This also means my mom has to attend Christmas at her boyfriend's house, and then I have to hand over my sweet baby to his dad on Christmas morning. It's a lot of factors for one holiday. We had the family over to my house on Christmas Eve from 2pm-7pm because it's the only time that fit. We tore through presents and then sat to eat the pot roast I'd been cooking all day. We may have also given my brother's girlfriend of 2 years a couple of vodka cranberries to catch up with us upon her arrival. Apparently she doesn't drink much and spent the majority of the time in the bathroom... She totally missed her family dinner and I'm doubting she woke up jolly on Christmas morning. SO sorry about that! It also could have been the jack in the box she had for lunch, right?

On top of all of this, the love of my life was taken off of the market. A man I've loved for over 10 years. He's witty, sweet, talented, and gorgeous. While my teeth were getting drilled on at the dentist, or during each contraction during labor, it was his face that I'd imagine. His lips I'd pretend to kiss on my fist that I'd turn into a mouth. Each time I'd catch wind of a break up from one of his long term girlfriends, I'd have a little party in my heart. He's the backdrop on my google homepage, and it's the only rolling stone cover I've ever kept. I remember when his manager, Joe (if that was even his real name), met me at the hotel their group was staying at in 2003. I was so set on meeting my one true love, I went on and on about how I'd do anything to meet him. Joe showed me his phone and the schedule of their appearances on late shows and special events. But that was it. As I saw nothing coming of my new friendship with Joe, I sadly returned to my room. The room phone rang... it was JOE. He so kindly offered his body in exchange for a hand shake with my love. Knowing that he would never want to marry me if I'd slept with his manager, I kindly turned him down (and wondered how the hell he had known which room we were staying in). That was the closest I've ever come to the LOML.

Jessica Biel, you are one lucky lady. I promise to not show up at your wedding with my Justin Timberlake wearing white. Promise. I know a guy who knows Jessica's brother, and I promise not to stalk anyone for the details about the nuptials. Promise. I'm just going to go cry a little (more) right now while holding my framed photo of the most wonderful man alive, who I've never even met.

Although there have been bits of drama and heartache, this month has been full of fun and magic. There's nothing better than a two-year-old learning about Santa and his reindeer. His face was priceless when he woke up up Christmas morning to find the bike, fire truck, and remote control car that he'd told Santa about just weeks ago. He agreed that the elves must have been worried about the car falling out of the package because they reinforced it with screws (really, screws?) and the plastic that you cannot break without a tool. He has been screaming about each house that has lights, and the blow up snowmen on the lawn have been a real hit. There's nothing like reliving Christmas through the eyes of your little one. It has been a magical holiday... and I'm still going to play jingle bells throughout the year because it's his new favorite song.

Ho Ho Ho... you may kiss the bride!

2011-12-15T14:37:00.000-08:00

As the end of 2011 nears, I've said goodbye to a few things already. One of them is milk... because it really jacks my stomach. I've welcomed Almond Milk to my refrigerator as it has more calcium and vitamin D, and no sugar. More room for candy... hello.

I feel like the last two weeks have been like watching that one stupid news broadcaster try to maintain balance in a hurricane in their red or green coat issued by the network. I've been like the hair on the head of the news broadcaster, flying around in the air, out of control. Take this example as an apology if I've missed your call and failed to return it or completely ignored an email from you. It wasn't intentional, it was survival.

One of my best friends from Whidbey, Callie, got married last weekend in Sunriver, Oregon. What a fantastic place! It was as gorgeous as she was - except she was more covered in white one because it hadn't snowed yet and everything was brown. I suppose she'll be brown once she returns from her sunny honeymoon. A stunning wedding...

It was amazing and even more fun because of the mix of friends that had gathered to celebrate with them. They live in San Diego, so the "California Crew" flew up and were just way more fun than us. It's true.

us.

them.

The day after the wedding, we all met in the Village at the skating rink. Christmas songs were sung by the trees and lights covered the buildings that the colorful train drove between. At one point, my sister looked across the skating rink at the ten or so "Cali Crew" that were taking a skate break against the rail and said exactly what we were all thinking, "I don't know why, but I like them all so much more than us. They are way more fun. Just look at them... skating with zero inhibition. Even attempting triple axles and backwards skating. I'd never do that... I have weak ankles." They had stayed up until 6am that morning, after the wedding, and were bright eyed and bushy tailed ready for their next adventure. None of them must have kids... now it takes me days, weeks, sometimes months to recover from an all-nighter. But, I'd never try a triple axle, not even before kids.

It was the most fantastic 16 hours total I've ever spent in a car... wonderful people and new friends... the weirdest clothes I've ever packed for a trip (keep reading)... and eight of us hanging in a beautiful home with high ceilings, lots of bathrooms, and plenty of alcohol.

At 7pm the night before I left for the wedding, I completed my final exam for the psychology class that I took this fall. I hadn't exactly read all of the chapters before the exam, and decided to cram 150 text book pages into the final 48 hours before the test. I should write Disney and thank them for providing entertainment for my son while I read next to him on the couch. I was also recovering from a gnarly cold that left Baylor on antibiotics and me sleep deprived and cranky. I was also trying to get my house, suitcase, and fake tan ready for a 4 days trip for the wedding. I was a mess.

To avoid leaving anyone in suspense, I am happy to say that I got a 96% on my test, and a big fat 4.0 in my class. That's right, the straightest "A" around. I'm going to miss my class so very much. It was so hard to say goodby! Five hours every week I was able to sit in front of a brilliant woman (really, she is amazing... she knows everything about everything. I asked if I could just sit in her other classes and listen without doing any work. She laughed at me...) and learn about things that I find fascinating. It was killer.

And now it's time for Christmas. My sister and I forced the other passengers in our car to stop by a TJ Max in Oregon so we wouldn't have to pay tax on some of the things we didn't even want to buy. We loaded up on gifts and were out of there in an hour. I hate the gift portion of the program. I felt like I just blew a bunch of cash on a load of shit that nobody really cares about (ok, I hope they do), and for what? To prove that I love them? I say that I'm going to bake cookies or make a craft for everyone to bring back the true meaning of Christmas, but then I run out of time, and buying my stepmom new PJs online is a lot easier than trying to do a hand painted pattern on the side of a vase with acrylic paint. You know?

Baylor memorized jingle bells, we decorated our tree, he sat on Santa's lap, and is getting everything he asked for on Christmas morning. I wrote "To Bay. Love, MOM" on his gifts under the tree and it really made me feel like a parent. I've never listened to Christmas songs more than I have this year and I've been baking cookies just to make my house smell cozy. Now that my class is over, the only thing on my list is to enjoy the holiday season... oh, and kick this new round of a cold that I got from staying up until 1am three nights in a row. What on earth was I thinking?!

Crazy Cyber Monday

2011-11-28T19:19:00.001-08:00

I figured that because it is Cyber Monday, the aisles of Fred Meyer would be less crazy. It seems unbelievable that it is time to throw extra goodies into the cart for stocking stuffers. It was just August, just my birthday. School just started again, right?

Cyber Monday was real-ish to me last year. I remember going online and finding a few deals, but I didn't realize that it is an official "thing," like, something that people look forward to. I guess it hasn't been around forever since "cyber" has only been accessible to almost everyone in the world for the last 10 years or so. I loved the headlines like, "Record Breaking Cyber Monday..." yeah, because we aren't really going back that far, now are we? Online shopping has become the only way some people shop. I see the colored amazon crates stacked outside on front porches ready for pick up and then they return, emptied once again only a few days later. This cyber Monday bananas is just one more crazy thing that make people rush around all crazy and cranky because they're missing some deal somewhere. Although, I did cash in on a Toys R Us gift card from my baby shower for gifts from Santa. Cyber Monday saved me $34 on a buzz lightyear bike. Not bad.

I feel like I just learned about Black Friday too. When did that happen? Maybe it's because I grew up on Whidbey Island with one stop light and we didn't have stores that participated? Until college, I thought it was a day in February when we sang happy birthday to Martin Luther King Jr and thank you to Rosa Parks. Really, I thought that.

I heard on the news that some lady pepper sprayed an entire line of people so that she could get into Best Buy first. Clips of ambulances and fire trucks whirling their red lights around in the black early morning sky came onto the TV and I laughed. People are insane. I love a good deal as much as anyone, but there's no way in hell I need something that bad that I'm going to pepper spray a bunch of people so that I can SPRINT through the automatic doors... unless it was Justin Timberlake on the other side and it was a competition to see who could get to him first. I'd pepper spray everyone. Everyone. I doubt an LG dryer has abs like JT. I'm getting hot just thinking about that - almost like I'm inside of the LG dryer right now!

In Fred Meyer today, I was in the ornament section looking at the different assortment of glittered santas and matching reindeer's. Baylor rides in this HUGE cart with 40 wheels that looks like a race car and is impossible to navigate around the tight store aisles. I usually park it off to the side and then shop within a 6 foot radius of the cart as to not leave my child unattended... or unentertained so that he does not throw random things into the cart (learned my lesson on that one... extra marshmallows and black licorice). Today, all of the mamas were shopping, it's Monday morning. It happens every Monday... the moms throw on their yoga pants, Uggs, hair in a pony and a hoodie and kill 2 hours shopping for groceries. Everyone is pleasant and sometimes the kids smile at each other and make grocery cart friends. It's great. Well, today on CYBER Monday, there were a few serious shoppers mixed into our mom club... one lady was so apalled by our "car-cart" that she over dramatically stood to one side of the aisle like there were long blades protruding from the rims of the car. I gave her the "yikes... this thing is a whale... sorrry" look and she gave me the tight lipped annoyed face. No smile. Just me wasting her shopping time. I could see the clock dropping a second with each puff of smoke that left her ears, losing money and precious website click opportunities. Our gandering was killing her. This happened at least three more times in the store... people just annoyed that we were in their way because they just clearly had somewhere better to go. So rushed!

Ready to check out, I loaded our goods onto the counter and checked for anything that shouldn't be in there because of a two-year-old arm. I started bullshitting with Susie, the sweet old black lady checker who called us "honey" and told me I looked "DAMN good after havin' that baby" and then she gave Baylor 4 stickers. We chatted about how I look too young to have a child and I asked her what that means, anyway. I told that there was a little girl who is 10 years old in Mexico that just gave birth last week and an 11 year old last year after being raped by her stepfather. (Really, really terrible, and a major topic changer - still not sure if it's appropriate to randomly bring up - but that is too young to be having babies.) "Chilllren havin' chilllren. That man needs to be put AWAY! Her mama better leave that nasty man! Lord have mercy!" And then Miss Susie chatted about all of her kids, how comcast has been ripping people off (I couldn't agree more), reproductive rights in Mexico and the US, and how being alone is better than being married at all (going back to the 10 year olds family situation if her mother leaves the stepfather, because Susie obviously thinks she should). All the while, a man is waiting in line behind us HUFFING and puffing. He was ready to blow the whole damn thing down. He was shuffling his feet making obvious position changes like he was salsa dancing or something. After being glared down by the mean lady in the aisle, and a few others because we were leisurly shopping in our race car cart, I just wanted to keep talking to Susie... make the guy wait. It was kind of nasty of me... but I just wanted to take a minute, enjoy my conversation, and be people for a while without somewhere to go! Then Susie knocked an extra 10% off of my total. Guess there's something to chatting afterall.

The holidays come too fast, Baylor is growing up too fast, and people are moving at lightening speed. Online shopping and pepper spraying at the door shows me that manners and social decency are becoming a thing of the past. I am already stressed about how many people I can afford to buy Christmas gifts for, and who will hate me if I give them cookies in a pretty bag instead of something wrapped in a box with a bow. I only have 27 more days to buy presents! Hurry! Run! I actually put up all of my holiday decor last week just so it would feel longer and not so hurried. I am going to sip cider, hot cocoa and bake as much as I can. Bay and I may just make all of our gifts right here at our kitchen table, and I might just avoid shopping altogether.

Happy Cyber Monday! May your cyber carts be full, your paypal accounts emptied, and your emailed receipts archived.

Far and Away

2011-11-21T13:01:00.001-08:00

Baylor is in San Diego with his dad visiting his aunt and uncle, and three cousins. He left Friday morning and gets back tonight. I talked to him last night and he told me he missed me, just saw an RV, and had to go ride bikes. His dad yelled after him to put on his coat, and I felt great about the conversation.

I packed him with everything he might need, and made sure to email all parties involved in the trip beforehand so that there was no misunderstanding about naps, backpacks on the plane, or what time he goes to bed... ok, and where I thought he should sleep, what I thought he should wear, and that people in the house should be quiet while he was napping. I'm not controlling, at all, swear.

It turns out, Baylor is having a fabulous vacation, and his mommy is having a fabulous stay-cation right here in Ballard. I've done infinite loads of laundry... there's still more waiting for me downstairs. I have to pool to hit, a Whirlpool washing machine that I get to load and unload, over and over. I drank mimosas and watched movies with my boyfriend all day yesterday - seriously, we watched four movies and ordered food for dinner. We didn't leave the house... it was amazing. I haven't had a hangover Sunday (we weren't at all hungover, but I think the last time I had the luxury of staying inside all day, I was probably single and very hungover) in years, really... years. I woke up at 8:30 this morning and went straight to my couch for Dexter and Homeland with a hot cup of coffee. And then I took a long shower. I even shaved my legs, and then gave myself a mani and a pedi wrapped in a robe with a towel in my hair.

It isn't that I don't miss my little ball of energy, because I really do. But it is absolutely glorious to recharge my mommy battery with some good old fashion lounging.

I am going to walk the aisles of Target, and maybe even Value Village, because I can.

Guilty.

2011-11-21T12:18:00.001-08:00

The whole crew will be at my mother's house for Thanksgiving. Aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, grandmas and significant others. Multiple turkeys and lots of appetizers will join the decorated dining room that my mother and her boyfriend Gary have recently hung dead animals on the wall because Gary is a hunter. I'm in charge of cranberry sauce and a few bottles of wine. My mom has vintage pilgrim figurines and turkeys with their asses missing which she will fill with olives or mixed nuts. It'll be beautiful, I'm sure.

I have had the pleasure of attending a few thanksgiving meals at other people's homes. The food is all there and little bits of tradition manage to sneak their way onto the table. I remember being appalled that nobody said what they were thankful for, while holding hands, before taking their first bit. Who were these people? I remember creamed peas missing from the table and almost packing my bags to leave. White wine only? I'm out. Where's the crystal? The hundred year old china that we have to hand wash after because it's so beautiful and delicate? I pitied them.

I've had a pretty big lesson on family diversity this week. It shockingly turns out that people do things differently than I do, or my family does. There's a part of me that will always believe they are wrong and are missing out because it isn't out of a Martha Stewart magazine (my mom calls herself "Heidi Stewart" if that translates my thoughts any better). We are raised doing things the same way each year - people call it "tradition." It's what makes holidays fun, and each year a new memory is created making us laugh, cry, or fight. Either way, it's what we know and therefore it feels right.

I may have freaked out on someone because their family does things a little differently than mine. I won't go into details, but let's just say, I learned that it wasn't, and isn't any of my business what their family does. I don't live there. I've never lived there... and I never will. They knew I'd have a strong reaction to what I was going to see, and even warned me, at which time I used it all against them and even called them weird. They're not weird. They're amazing. I totally went for the jugular. Bad, Allison, bad!

It made me think of a lesson in class from last week. Stereotypes and being so afraid that we might do something to confirm a stereotype that someone has about us. It is called Sterotype Threat. You know those studies of people who take tests, and right before the test, someone will say, "men are naturally better test takers than women." Guess who blows the test.... all of the women. They get so caught up in proving the statement wrong, or believing it and not trying as hard, that they are unable to focus all of their cognitive abilities on scoring what they would have before the idea was presented to them. This happens to all of us, all of the time. We are terrified of someone saying, "yep, see, told ya so. She's exactly what I thought."

It's so easy to judge. To look down on someone, or make a mean comment because you don't agree with the way they do things. I know about this and hate it - and here I am, guilty! I have heard comments from my family about how silly I am for having Baylor on a tight schedule - sometimes having to leave a family dinner because he has to go to bed. It works for us and isn't any of their business... I didn't ask to change dinner to 5pm just for Baylor and I, did I? We do it to make ourselves feel better, like we're "in" on something, and that something is "right." We have the experience and the knowledge, no matter the outcomes, to make these judgements and sometimes even share them even when they aren't requested. Go through a breakup or a divorce - everyone has something to say, because most people have experience with this. Kids? It's impossible not to share something.

I guess my point is this: It's hard to keep an open mind, and even harder to keep your mouth shut when your mind is closed. I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving - with ham, duck, purple mashed potatoes, or no mashed potatoes at all... afterall, it's none of my business how you like your potatoes.

Hey Step-Mama

2011-11-14T16:04:00.001-08:00

My friend Lauren lives in Alaska. I met her at PLU and was immediately attracted to her confidence, witty sense of humor and ability to "keep up" with the conversation. She is on the board of Planned Parenthood and after losing touch with her after college, she informed me last year that she would be in Seattle for a board meeting. Baylor was just a young pup and we blabbed over eggplant parmesan about all of the things that had happened over the previous 5 years.

Lauren had married a man with two daughters and had become their stepmother, or "anya" as they call her. They have joint custody with the girls' mother and as the oldest is 14, all three parents are in constant communication about rules, expectations, and what to expect.

Lauren was in town this weekend and we met up twice because the first coffee date just wasn't enough time to cover everything. I have thought of her since the last time she was in town. I remembered her positive experience with co-parenting as a step-parent. She has a wonderful relationship with her husband's ex-wife. In fact, Lauren told me that because she is the better planner, she is the one to make all of the schedule plans and adjustments with the girls' mom. Sometimes, she will even babysit their half-brother if their mom is in a pinch. She told me about the way she moved into their home and was just a friend, only enforcing the rules that already existed until she felt she had enough say to make up and enforce rules of her own. They had a special ceremony during their wedding which included Lauren's union to the girls as well as to their father. She told me all of this with such love in her voice and pride in the way she discussed her incredible parenting style.

I know that people have children, split, and then remarry and continue to reproduce. I've just never thought about how much work it would be... or why anyone would want to jump into a relationship and want to be an immediate parent to a child that isn't biologically theirs, dealing with ex-spouses and parenting plans. So I asked Lauren. I asked her why she does all of this, and if she likes it. She simply responded, "because I love them."

She told me that putting the girls first and making rules based on love have been two keys to maintaining a harmonious relationship with all parties. It was all just so evolved and seemingly easy - which is so Lauren, having everything under control - but it still made me so happy to see a modern day, co-parenting family full of such positivity and love.

Her biggest fear? Hearing "I hate you" from their teenager... and maybe talking about sex. Lauren, I hope to find someone as accepting, patient and amazing as you to complete my family some day. Cheers to step-parents!

RIP Island Boys

2011-11-13T11:02:00.001-08:00

I am supposed to be studying for a test in my class on Wednesday and it's just not happening. Three boys, around my brother's age, 19 or 20, were killed in a car accident night before last. The driver was drunk and passed another car on a dark road on Whidbey Island, where I grew up. She lost control and hit a tree. The tree was found in the passenger seat and the car burst into flames before the three boys could get out. My brother, the athletic president of his high school for 2 years in a row, is part of a large group of kids who are all friends and immediately started posting photos and memories of these innocent boys on facebook. It just breaks my heart... and makes me want to puke.

Ironically, I am studying the chapters on adolescence in my book for my test. I just typed my notes about risk taking and how invincible teens think they are - always protected from harm simply because they lack the experience to understand consequences. Speeding? Drunk driving? We won't crash... Unprotected sex? Those warty weird growths couldn't happen to me... and forget getting pregnant. That's just for those sluts on MTV. I wish it were true. I wish teens could get covered in bubble wrap with monitors strapped around their ankles so that parents would always know their whereabouts.

I know it's the way it works, and I was there once too. I've had friends pass because of freak accidents. I've attended funerals for kids that were too young and too good to go. I just googled "fatal whidbey crash" to find out the details, and the third website was the newspaper clip about a boy who died while I was in high school, Jesse Travis. They were speeding and he was ejected from the car when it crashed. It wasn't the news I was searching for, but there it was, details from a crash I remember crying about 11 years ago.

My thoughts and prayers are with all of the friends and families of the boys that died Friday night on Wilkinson Road.

Please don't drink and drive.

http://www.southwhidbeyrecord.com/news/133752268.html

Glow in the Dark Bus

2011-11-07T07:24:00.000-08:00

We leave our house at 7:14am to arrive right at 7:30 at the home of the family I nanny for. I started in August, so leaving at 7:14 was really no problem - birds were chirping, the sun was (sometimes) shining and people were out walking their pets and children. Now, it is dark. Cold. I know I should be sleeping. Baylor woke up at 5:15 this morning according to my clock which was just tossed back an hour for daylight savings. I started thinking about riding the bus all the way through high school until I got my license. So dark, and then for a month it would be light again at my stop... until it got dark again.

The earth was always wet and the tall trees blocked any light trying to fight it's way into our yard. I would sometimes wake up cold, if the fire had gone out downstairs. The tile on the bathroom floor shocked my feet and chilled my bones while I waited for the water to get warm. A space heater hummed, slowly heating the room. Our shower head made a loud squeal sound that would start ferociously, but died down to a whine by the end of the shower. It was a real bummer the year that something died in or near our pipes and warm misty animal death would waft up through the drain while the squeal joined it in the room. My mom or sister would join the steamy stench to use the toilet or wash their face, making me scream to stop using the water while I was in the shower. Three women. One bathroom.

My sister and I would scramble to find something to wear, often times arguing about who it belonged to. Then a massive hunt through the tub of socks to find a matching pair, but remembering that it wasn't a PE day, so nobody should notice if one sock had a grey stripe across the toe and the other one didn't. Wet hair twirled into a bun. Piece of bread with peanut butter wiped across, and out the door I went to wait with the neighbor boys in the dark for the lights of the bus to make their way around the lake that we lived on. Louder and louder it would become as it approached our stop. I'd shiver in my sweatshirt because coats weren't cool and my hair was still wet. The nearest streetlight was at least 100 yards away, and the darkness from the tree shadows reminded me that I was small. The boys wouldn't talk and it felt even colder.

Finally the bus found its way to us and the warm air hit our faces as the doors opened. I'd climb inside and find a friend to sit next to. A 20 minute ride full of stops, turns and bumps started my school day... in the dark.

My sophomore year, I finally figured out that my neighbor across the street could drive and convinced her to wait every morning for me to run out to her silver car, until I could drive. After that, it was blasting heat and mixed CDs all the way. On my drive to nanny at 7:14, I pass kids waiting on the bustling city streets waiting for their big yellow ride, lattes in hand, faces illuminated by flashing crosswalk signs and headlights.

Although it was dark, and oh so cold, I can appreciate the still silence in the trees against the smooth lake with the nearing sound of a school bus in the background. I can also remember the sound of my mom saying "shit" when that nearing sound was not so near, and had in fact already come and gone.

Scored!

2011-11-06T09:24:00.000-08:00

I love scoring. I score all of the time and I want to talk about it. I score in the bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom, the living room and all around town. Sometimes I score alone, and sometimes I have a partner. Everyone can, and should score. It makes me feel like I'm "in" on a big secret and hold all of the power regarding it's future.

I'd like to show some photos of my favorite scores.

50s Dish Set

What: Set of 60 dishes from the 1950s
Where: Estate Sale in Ballard
How Much: $60 until I talked them down to $35
Notes: This set includes cups, saucers, serving plates and bowls, soup bowls, small bowls, plates, cream and sugar cups, all in gorgeous colors. Keeping my eyes peeled for more of the set around town.

Retro Lamp

What: Retro Lamp Shade

Where: Thrift Store in Clinton, WA

How Much: $2.00

What: Lamp Base

Where: Estate Sale in Ballard

How much: $15.00

Notes: I learned how to re-wire a lamp because it didn't have any wiring when I bought it.

Silk Scarf

What: Scarf

Where: Estate Sale in Queen Anne

How Much: $1.00

Norwegian Sweater

What: Norwegian Sweater

Where: Value Village

How Much: $14.99

Notes: We spotted it as it was placed on the rack for sale. Girls were hovering around us waiting for us to put it back so that they could snag it. Sorry ladies!

Kitchen Window

What: Kitchen Window - valance, mirror, cream and sugar, vase, brandied cherries

Where: I made the valance from some fabric that I liked; small mirror from Value Village; cream and sugar from the 50s set; brandied cherries homemade from my mom in a mason jar; vase from estate sale in Ballard.

How much: nothing was over $5.00

Happy Halloweeeenie

2011-10-29T12:16:00.000-07:00

We took Baylor to a Halloween carnival at the elementary school a few blocks from my house (yes, the same school as the bitch bullies) for an evening of spooky fun. Everyone was there - like, everyone. Moms, dads, kids, teachers and random people wandering in from the street bought tickets and made their way around the very sweet event.

Bay participated in almost all of the games, winning a prize at each station just for trying (my psych professor would have a lot to say about that...), and walked away with a bag of holiday junk straight from Oriental Trading. It made me think about the carnivals that my sister and I would go to in elementary school. Spinning the wheel to win a baked good and scooping up rubber ducks in a net to see how many stars were on the bottom of each duck brought me back to the fun of being a kid and really made me feel like a parent.

The costumes were creative and my little blond Shrek had a few fans - kids pointing screaming, "look Mom, it's SHREK!" like the ginormous green ogre was actually in the room. I ran into a guy that my sister used to date at Value Village yesterday. He was with his sexy little girlfriend and they were in the hunt for a last-minute costume.

"Are you going to fright night downtown this weekend?" he asked me as if he was about to suggest that we should meet up there if I was.

"I'm not. What's that?"

"Oh, this big halloween party... that's why we're here. Trying to pull it together last minute!"

Well. I suppose I could have suggested a few ideas... actually, I should have told them that I was going to the party and I was planning on being a psychic. In fact, I could tell them what they were going to be right this second! Practicing my skills a little.

For you, my pretty, you will be a sexy angel. Very creative. Lots of sparkles and shimmer. Or wait, something coming through on my psychic waves... a cowgirl. With braids. A young boys size medium cowboy shirt that will never button shut over your boobs, so you better tie it around your rib cage with a sexy bra underneath. You'll need very short shorts and cowboy boots. Maybe your boyfriend will be a horse so you can ride him all night long. Now getting an image of a cat... lots of black spandex.

I am so glad that my halloweens have come full circle and are back to tossing plastic spiders into plastic cauldrons to win a plastic spider. I hated trying to fit in with the genetically blessed bitches with perky everything wearing nothing but panties because they are Victorias Secret models for Halloween. I'd try to come up with a "funny" costume... and still wear short shorts because of peer pressure... but would end up getting real wasted because all of the angel dust would end up on my skinny legs, illuminating all of the places where I'd missed my fake tanner. Everyone at these huge parties who was a couple had themed costumes and were sometimes less slutty because they were going home with each other at the end of the evening. Everyone else was free game. The only contests taking place ended with a prize at the "after party" where costumes are optional.

And to think... there was a time when plastic spiders got them excited.

Happy Halloween!