What Up, Hump?

It's Wednesday and to answer the question from your comment on my previous post, Kayly, no I have not been keeping up with the dishes :). I'm terrible. However, I have had a noticeable mood and energy burst that came over me this weekend and has not yet abated, so I fully intend to milk it for all it's worth.


Also, I have come to the realization that nothing makes me clean like the impending arrival of company, so we're having folks over for brunch Saturday. This means I have today, tomorrow and Friday to get the place looking at least halfway decent so I can concentrate on cooking/baking/mixing a giant pitcher of bloody marys Saturday morning.


Thank you for checking in and kicking my butt, though. I'm off to do dishes shortly. I plan on us actually brunching at the kitchen table with a table cloth and place mats and maybe even some flowers, fer cryin' out loud.


It's just a matter of sucking it up and powering through the next few days. The nicest bit is that the apartment will be clean for the weekend so we can relax and just do fun stuff--especially since Sunday is Father's Day.


Which brings me to another reason I love my husband. All he wants for Father's Day is for me to grill him a delicious, juicy steak and some corn on the cob, an hour or two of peace and quiet to read his book, and then for the 3 of us to toddle downtown for some ice cream at the ice cream parlour. Sounds like a perfect, glorious, low-maintenance day. My very favorite kind.

Full-Throttle Monday

I am bangin' shit OUT today! Kid is fed, changed and playing happily. Coffee is consumed. Paused from tidying the living room to make some calls and have accomplished the following:

• Conned our dear friend Mary into watching Fred and Lulu while we're in Florida, bless her heart!!!!
• Scheduled grooming appointments for Fred & Lulu so they won't be all funky while Mary is watching them
• Scheduled Zelda's vet appointment to have blood drawn for her ongoing thyroid and liver problems

This somewhat makes up for the utter lack of housecleaning I did all weekend long. Back to tidying the living room. Ethan's coming home for lunch. Very nice surprise!

Once I've finished in the living room, I'm going to tidy in the bedroom. The bed is crying out for clean, fresh sheets and there's laundry to be put away.

Just remembered that this Sunday is Father's Day. Will have to plan a smashing dinner to cook for Ethan and sniff around for hints re: a gift. He is a fantastic father as I knew he would be, and deserves to be celebrated as such.

Anyhoo, this week is off to a productive start. Let's see if I can keep up the momentum.

Squat Diddly Bupkiss

Okay, so I did nada yesterday. Couldn't help it. The weather was ick, as it is again today. However, I fully intend to clean the bathroom today just so I can say I accomplished something. It's chilly and damp and I just want to don my Snuggie™ and read my book, but The Boy will not allow this. He is playing and singing and refusing to nap AGAIN.

I took him to the YMCA yesterday to play in the indoor playground again. He adores it. Afterward, we came home, had some lunch, and took naps. HEAVEN.

Last night we were all in the living room eating dinner and watching Jeopardy! as is our custom. One of the answers was "This Chairman's Little Red Book..." When the contestant responded "Who is Mao?" Tobin yelled "MAO!!!" excitedly and pointed to his mouth. Hilarity ensued.

Later on he was playing with his toy train. I asked him if he could say train. Blank stare. I tried a different approach--"Can you say choochoo??" He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow as if to say, "Say that one more time for me," and studied my mouth while I said "choochoo" again. He very carefully pursed his lips to mimic mine and said, "Jew Jew." Naturally we cracked up at that, so he puckered up and said "JEW JEW!!!" about 20 more times.

Ethan has taken over the bath time ritual, which is awesome. They have far too much fun together. Last night between all the laughing and splashing, I overheard Ethan teaching Tobin how to scat. Skills to pay the bills, y'all.

So I'm not beating myself up for not having accomplished as much as I set out to this week. I always bite off more than I can chew. This time I'm choosing to spit out the excess rather than choke on it. My aim is to strike a healthy balance between household drudgery and goofing around. The scales are still tipped toward the latter at this point, but hopefully not for long.

Two's Day

Second day of my seize-the-world-by-the-balls-and-get-my-shit-straight campaign. I claimed on my Facebook status this morning that I was going to "make Tuesday my bitch and ride it so hard it'll wonder why Wednesday's called Hump Day." At least I had the right attitude.

I can't say I made Tuesday my bitch, but I did smack him around a little. Washed a buttload of dishes. Still some to go. I know--it sounds like my kitchen must be floor-to-ceiling pots and pans. Not entirely the case, I just had a very sassy toddler who refused to take a nap until somewhere around 3:30 pm today. By the time he finally capitulated, I was so exhausted myself that I had to take a nap as well. Daddy now has him at the playground to give Mommy some peace and quiet. I love my husband.

The good news is that I washed all the dishes that had been littering the cook top of my stove, so I can actually make dinner tonight! We had been dining out quite a bit the last few days because I just couldn't deal. Now I can. Woot woot!

Day One

Sorry this report is late. We wound up going to dinner and then meeting friends for ice cream. Was too tired to post after that.

I am tentatively calling Day One a success. I didn't get as much accomplished as I thought I might, but I also didn't sleep well the night before and was dragging ass all day long. This morning is another story--I woke up feeling semi-rested and mostly human for a change.

What I got done yesterday:

• Collected three 13 gallon garbage bags of trash and non-recyclable clutter from the kitchen (That sounds grosser than it is. This includes crap in the pantry I will never use, old stuff from the fridge, stale cereal boxes, etc).
• Put recyclable items in appropriate receptacles
• Cleared out and plunged kitchen sinks (Our sink backs up CONSTANTLY. Super fucking annoying), then bleached and scrubbed them.
• Did two loads of dishes
• Read book and napped until Ethan got home :)

What can I say? I started out the day exhausted. The plan for today is to finish up the kitchen (at least finish the dishes and washing the surfaces--Ethan usually does the floors). Wednesday will be the bathroom and nursery, Thursday the living room, Friday the bedroom.

I think it will take at least 2 weeks for the place to really be where I'd like to keep and maintain it. Keep in mind, I do have an active toddler who requires my attention and outings to the playground on sunny days (like today...sigh).

All in all, not a bad start. Certainly more than I normally accomplish on a given day. Today will hopefully be more of the same. I'll report back later!

Curb Job

I think I've finally reached the point in my life (and therapy) where I'm finally ready to face all the bs I've been conveniently ignoring for years and JUST FUCKING DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.


Although I am sure I will live to regret this, I have decided to set about the task of ridding my mind and my life of my emotional clutter by banishing the real, tangible clutter clogging every available surface of my house. Granted, my apartment is not worthy of a "Hoarders" episode--yet--but I am determined to get things (and therefore ME) under control before a team of psychiatrists, professional organizers, and refuse removal men are required to dig me out from under hundreds of pounds of soiled adult diapers and mummified cats.


That is not the part I fear I will live to regret. This is: I am going to blog about it. I will openly and honestly report my progress on a daily basis--even if it's just 1 or 2 paragraphs about what I threw out or scrubbed or freecycled that day. After I've been at it a few days, I may even include pictures of my progress. I'm hoping that my commitment to blogging this experiment will force me to stick to my guns, so I'm counting on my beloved reader(s) to hold me accountable and kick my ass as necessary. Words of encouragement are also welcome, but as the saying goes, "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, but a dead squirrel works best." Please feel free to not just flame me, but to RAKE ME OVER THE FUCKING COALS if I slack. I'm 36 goddamned years old. Enough is enough.


As my regular reader(s) know(s), I have been suffering from depression off and on for the last 6 years due to 3 pregnancy losses and the prolonged illness and recent death of my father. I'm done. It's enough now. I know I can't just decide to be done being depressed, but I can decide to stop letting it keep me from doing what needs to be done--for my sake, my husband's, and--most importantly--my son's. And once my emotional/spiritual house and physical apartment are in order, I'll shift focus to my emotional eating hobgoblin, though I'm hoping he'll get kicked to the curb as I'm cleaning house.


Tomorrow is Day One. Report to follow tomorrow evening after therapy, dinner, and Jeopardy! Interested to see what the shrink thinks of this plan. I'm sure he'll support it.


Full disclosure: I am currently having a mild anxiety attack that is keeping me from hitting "publish" on this. Deep breaths...OK. Here we go.

Not Dead, Just Dead Boring...

Yes, I know it's been a while since I checked in. Life hasn't been terribly interesting lately. Ethan's taking a little break from his job search while I get used to the idea of possibly going back to work in the near future. I got an unexpected call from a recruiter earlier this week that made me think it might be time for me to get back to the grind. Whether that particular call amounts to anything or not, we shall see. It has prompted me to keep my ear to the ground for other opportunities as well. If I were to nail down this position at the high end of the salary range they're offering, the increase from my previous salary would totally offset the cost of childcare. I couldn't afford not to take it!!

However, it looks as though unemployment will be extended through the end of this year, so even if I don't land the perfect job immediately, I'll still have that cushion. I feel very good about putting Tobin in daycare from this point on. He's extremely confident and social and happy. Not once has he pitched a fit when we've left him with someone for a few hours or even overnight. I think he'd settle into the daycare routine very quickly and really appreciate the daily interaction with other kids. Weather permitting, I try to get him to the playground at least 3 times a week so he can be around other kids his age. If it rains, we go to the indoor playground at our local YMCA. He's just reaching the age where he wants to really interact with the other children rather than just observe them.

Speaking of "interacting," this past Saturday we were at the playground with friends when he approached a pretty little girl a few months younger than himself (he usually prefers the older ladies) and gently touched her face. I said, "Be gentle! Why don't you give her a hug?" Instead he leaned in slowly, looked deep into her big brown eyes with his smouldering baby blues and gave her a kiss. Everyone who witnessed this let out an "Awwwwwwwwww!!!" in unison. He pulled back to judge her reaction, which was a look of complete and utter terror. Undeterred, he gave her a second kiss. This time she burst into tears. Still not getting the message, he leaned in for #3 when I finally pulled him away and redirected him toward another part of the playground. I blame the two toddler hussies at the play area at the mall who planted smooches on him right around his 1st birthday. Ever since then he's been trying to kiss every girl he can get his hands on. He doesn't bother trying to hug or kiss other little boys. He only has eyes for the ladies.

On top of being a total mack daddy, he's a daredevil to boot. I have no idea where he gets his excellent coordination or lack of fear of heights, but it ain't from Mom and Dad. Today he climbed to the highest point on the jungle gym for 5- to 12-year-olds (did I mention he's a mere 17 mos?)and went down the spiral slide all by himself. I clapped and hooted and hollered, I was so proud. He hopped off the slide and looked at me like, "Bitch, please! I do this in my sleep..." The only thing he hasn't conquered at that playground in the rock climbing wall. His limbs simply aren't long enough yet. I'm thinking he'll have it mastered by the end of the summer.

In other news, we're headed to Florida for 8 days in July to visit Ethan's Dad. Two of those days will be taken up by travel. Ethan won free airline tickets at his holiday party, but the only available non-stop flights were very late at night or very early in the morning, so we opted for connecting flights. It'll be a pain in the ass, but we're saving almost $700, so I'm not bitchin'. Will be nice to log some beach and pool time. I'm hoping we spend our share of Saturdays "down the shore" here in Jersey, too.

Other than that, no big plans. It's all up in the air. Could be working, could still be an SAHM. Time will tell. As long as it includes quality time with my two favorite boys and many mojitos, it will be a fantastic summer.

Gettin' Shit Done

So far, April seems to be the month of accomplishing all those tasks we've been putting off indefinitely. Ethan got up early this morning and took the older Corolla to the body shop to get an estimate for replacing both bumpers (I put a softball-sized dent in the front one, Ethan ripped off half the back bumper in a disagreement with a stubborn shrub). The estimate was about half as much as I was expecting, so that's a relief. We drop it off next Monday and should get it back Wednesday, so I'll only be without wheels for 2 days.


This week I need to renew my license (expired as of 1/31) and then, once the car is fixed, take it for inspection (it's only 1 1/2 mos overdue :)). Still, that's 3 big items off our "to do" list. If we're not careful, we might just turn into--EEK!!--responsible adults! (shudder).


I have also started making a daily "to do" list to inspire me to get more things done around the house. As I knew I would, I put more items on it than I can reasonably expect to accomplish with an active toddler underfoot. Way to set myself up for failure and disappointment right off the bat! I think I'll hone it down to 3 things a day to start--then when I'm knocking those off with ease add a fourth item, etc., etc.


In Tobin news, he's starting to "parrot." He repeated the words "blue," "yellow," and "I love you" in the past 2 days. As mentioned in my Facebook status update, the "I love you" sounded more like "eye yoyo," but he was repeating after me--and he said it twice, so I know that's what he was trying to say. Thus ends the era of free-reign cursing in our household. Good god do I love to swear, but if it means not having to apologize at some point in the near future when Tobin calls the lady in front of us in the checkout line a "stupid c*nt," it's worth the sacrifice. Maybe when he's closer to 12 we can reinstate full freedom of speech. By then he'll have learned all the four-letter words Mommy and Daddy know and then some. Until such time, I will have to bottle up my cursing and let it out in little bursts when Tobin and I aren't in the same building/zip code.


Other than that, looking forward to my upcoming Girls' Night Out with my BFF, Kayly, and some other lovely ladies. Poor, poor Harrisburg won't know what hit it. You know in the cartoons where someone gets punched so hard they have a circle of little birdies flying around their head to illustrate their severe disorientation? That's what Harrisburg can expect to feel like when we're done with it. And throw in a crotch punch or three. We don't fuck around. Oops. Good thing Tobin's still illiterate.

Peaking Early

A 13-year-old boy is attempting to become the youngest person ever to summit Mt. Everest. I'm fascinated with Mt. Everest and those who dare to climb it. One of my favorite books is Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air, his first-person account of the 1996 Everest Disaster. And I've made the poor hubby sit through at least two seasons of The Discovery Channel's Everest: Beyond The Limit. Let me hasten to say that I'm not a mountain climber--I'm barely a stair climber--but Everest has always seemed mystical and magical to me and I completely understand its allure to those far braver than myself. Whether a matter of motivation or self-preservation, I am quite content to read about and watch them rather than join them.



However, as a newly-minted mom, I can't help but question the motives of this boy's parents. Are they truly encouraging this summit attempt (and his entire mountaineering career--he's already climbed many of the world's tallest peaks) out of love and support rather than the opportunty to bask in his reflected glory? Is it worth the risk? Everest is a bitch. And mountaineers more accomplished and experienced than this young man have met their ends there. As a parent, I can't imagine that I would be willing to take that risk with my child's life, no matter how keen he was to do it.


My follow-up questions are:

1. How is summiting Mt. Everest not enough of an accomplishment? Why the need to be the youngest?
2. What's left for him after he conquers Mt. Everest and the peak in Antarctica? Isn't his career essentially over at 13, then? I suppose he could attempt to climb again without oxygen, as some folks do, if Everest doesn't get him the first time.

Anyhoo, best of luck to him. I hope for his parents' sakes that he's successful and makes it through unharmed. I have no idea how they'll live with themselves for the rest of their lives if he doesn't.

Out Like a Lion

What happened to March going out like a lamb? Now that the rain and flooding seems to be on the wane, I'm really looking forward to Spring. Bye-bye, March. Don't let the door hit ya. The forecast looks amazing through the weekend. Looking forward to much outdoors time with the family members two- and four-legged.


I'm about to get Mr. T and myself dressed so we can go to the playground where he will undoubtedly run me ragged, after which we will come home, have a snack and pass out for a few hours. This is absolutely my favorite part of the job. I get to watch him have gobs of fun, get some exercise chasing him around, and get to pat myself on the back for being a "good mom" for making sure my kid gets plenty of fresh air and physical activity. So much better than deadlines and status meetings. And instead of yearly performance reviews, I get daily reviews (kisses, tantrums, "yummy" noises) to let me know where I excel and where there's "room for growth." I do miss raises and bonuses, however.


We have a meeting with the rabbi at B'Nai Or tomorrow morning to go over details for Tobin's naming ceremony on the 9th (it's a joint ceremony for kids who haven't yet received their Hebrew names). When I converted, I accepted that any sons Ethan and I had would have to be circumcised, but I'll be damned if I was going to watch. Luckily Ethan felt the same, so we let the doctors do the deed with the agreement that we would have a naming ceremony for him later on.


Tobin is named after his Great Uncle Teddy (real name Tobias), so we called Great Aunt Cynthia to see if she recalled Teddy's Hebrew name. She did--it's Tevye. Makes perfect sense, since Tobias (and Tobin) and Tevye mean the same thing: "God is Good." We dig it and we're going with it, but I've had "If I Were a Rich Man" stuck in my head ever since.


The rest of the weekend is wide open for Spring frolicking and gallivanting. White light and Vitamin D, how I've missed you!!!!

Forgive Me, Blog Readers, for I Have Sinned...

It's been almost a year since my last blog post. A lot has happened in this past year. Tobin learned to crawl, then walk in rapid succession. He's popped 7 pearly white teeth through his little pink gums. We celebrated his first birthday in style both in PA and NJ last December. We spent many weekends (and weekdays) at Grandma and Grandpa K's house watching my parents gobble him up and cackle at his antics. Not a bad year all told, but, sadly, my father finally lost his battle with cancer on Friday, March 19.

I'm so glad we made the most of what time he had left and visited as much as we possibly could. I'm saddened that Tobin will most likely only know him from pictures, but happy that my husband, mother and I have countless memories to share with him as he grows up. I'm not ready to write an elaborate, pages-long account of my father's passing and how I'm coping. Not sure if I ever will be, but I'd like to wrap up this post with the two most important lessons my father taught me which I fully intend to pass on to his beloved grandson.

First: Things are never as scary as your imagination makes them out to be. From the time I was 3, we began making yearly visits to Hershey Park. For the first 6 of those visits, my father was forced to ride the roller coasters by himself (ask my mother why that was and she'll tell you an amusing tale involving pants-wetting and, I believe, a brief loss of consciousness). The summer I was 9, he finally convinced me to get on a roller coaster with him for the first time. I was PETRIFIED. He chose the Trailblazer for my inaugural ride since it was the tamest of the big coasters at the park. I LOVED it. Soon we were on to the Super Duper Looper. I can't recall if I also tackled the Comet that same trip, but 2 out of 3 ain't bad. To this day, I credit him with my ability to just "jump" and trust that everything will be okeedokee.

Second: I'm OK--and lovable--just the way I am. Every Christmas I would ask my grandmother for Matchbox Cars or something similarly tomboyish and every year she would give me a doll in her futile attempt to make me girlie. My father was always happy to indulge my tomboy side. We played catch and caught all manner of creepy crawlies and slimy things together. He even took me fishing once or twice. But my favorite memory of all is the Christmas I received the electric racetrack I so desperately wanted. He put it together and we played with it for hours. At some point it disappeared. I can't recall when or why, but I suspect my mom got sick of it taking up so much of her living room. She's welcome to correct me here if I'm wrong :).

I'm sure similar lessons will occur to me as time passes and long-forgotten memories surface, but those are the two "biggies."

Love and miss you, Daddy. So glad you're at peace now. xoxo

Don't Call it a Comeback...

Especially since I can't promise how soon I'll be able to update again. Just popping in to let everyone know that things are going wonderfully. Tobin is 4 months old now and far more interactive than the last time I posted.

My days are spent singing, playing, reading, feeding, changing, and cleaning. In the breaks in between, I try to get some chores done, run the odd errand or catch up on my reading or shows I've DVR'd. Tobe really, really likes to stand and bounce right now. He does a good job of it on my or Daddy's lap and in the exersaucer, but I see a Johnny Jump Up in his near future. He also loves to hear himself talk and scream. His nurse at his 4 month checkup last week exclaimed that she'd never heard a baby his age talk so much and squeal so loud. That's something coming from a pediatric nurse who sees babies day in day out. He's rolling over, his coordination is improving, he's starting solid foods--I can't believe how fast it's going.

I can honestly say that I'm having the time of my life right now. For the last 4 months I've been doing the one thing I've wanted to do my whole life and it couldn't be better. I wake up every day to a gorgeous baby boy who's thrilled to see me and start our day together. Every smile and giggle I elicit throughout the day makes me feel like I'm really cut out for this Mommy gig.

That doesn't mean that every second is indescribable joy. Some days I'm just burnt out. Catering to a tiny dictator 24/7 can take its toll. On those days I hand him over to Daddy as soon as he gets home from work and head to the tub with whatever book I'm reading and a glass of wine. Two weekends ago the BFF and I ran off to Mohegan Sun for a girlie weekend while Ethan looked after Tobin full time. It was FANTASTIC! Booze, slots, food, shopping, having the bed to myself--bliss!

I must commend Ethan for the wonderful job he did looking after our son in my absence. I was nervous the first night, but when I woke up the next morning and everyone was fine (though sleep-deprived), I relaxed and was able to enjoy the rest of my weekend. Still, it was tough being away from my boys for even that short a time. I think Ethan and Tobin benefitted from 2 days of father/son bonding without Mom's interference, despite how tired everyone looked when I got home.

We spent this past weekend in PA visiting my folks. I love seeing Tobin interact with his grandparents. They clearly love him to pieces and he eats it up. He took a long nap on his Grandma after trying to pick the flowers off her shirt for many minutes. Last time I accused her of soaking her shirt in chloroform. This time I think she wore the shirt equivalent of the poppy field in The Wizard of Oz. Poor little guy didn't stand a chance.

I must take this opportunity to give major props to my husband for toughing it out at a less than fulfilling job right now so I can be home with Tobin. I know how tough it is to get up every day and go to a job you hate and I empathize with him and appreciate everything he does for our family. I hope the Job Fairy throws him a bone very soon, regardless how shitty the job market is right now.

I have nothing of real importance to post about right now--no current events or political musings. Just checking in to say I'm still alive and deliriously happy though crazy busy. I do waste a lot of time on Facebook, so feel free to friend me and check in with me there.

Checking In--Again

Just a quick update to let everyone know I'm still alive. Much like my BFF, I have recently been sucked into the Facebook vortex and find it difficult to wrest myself from its steely grip (man, I love mixed metaphors).

As you might suspect, the bulk of my time of late is spent looking after Tobin. He just turned 2 mos old last week. He did wonderfully at his checkup and is fit as a fiddle. He's changed so much since my last post. He smiles all the time now, laughs occasionally, stares at EVERYTHING as if he's memorizing it for future reference, and holds his head up full time without support.

I can put him down now at least twice a day for 20 to 30 mins while he amuses himself kicking, punching and cooing. Another recent development is that he seems content to sit in his chair while Daddy and I eat dinner so long as he can see us. That's a biggie! Until recently we'd take turns holding him so the other could eat. Now we feed him, plop him in his chair and chow down while watching that night's DVRed Bones rerun. Ahh, domesticity.

Hopefully these "independent" periods will increase over the next few weeks so I can get back to some semi-serious blogging about topical issues (and ointments). Count yourselves lucky that I've been too busy to blog. My brain has been absolute mush the past 2 mos and it's only recently begun to solidify once again. I actually passed up taking the online Jeopardy! qualifying test because I knew I wasn't my usual razor-sharp, trivia queen self and didn't want to blow it. I'll catch it next time around.

We had 2 lovely parties for friends and fam to meet Tobe--1 in NJ and 1 in PA. The Pennsylvania party was just yesterday. I'll post pics from both once I get the PA pics uploaded.

I think the biggest surprise the past 2 months have brought is just how normal this all feels. After enduring 5 years of horrific, horrific shit trying to create a family, I thought every single moment and milestone would seem monumental. I fully expected to be dropping to my knees every five minutes thanking the gods in heaven for finally blessing us with a happy, healthy child. I'm far too busy and distracted for that. When hit with the realization that I'm actually doing something I'd only previously dreamed about, I always expect to burst into tears. That was the case the first week or two, but now my reaction is more along the lines of "Oh, hey! Lookit that!" and then I get on with business.

I expect this, too, will fade over time until I (almost, not quite) begin to take it all for granted. That would be the ultimate blessing. There's still a little corner of my mind that's waiting for the other shoe to drop. I actually had a dream a few weeks ago that someone from the hospital came to take Tobin "back" like he was a library book we'd borrowed and was now overdue. As if life hasn't screwed with my psyche enough, my subconscious adds insult to injury. Typical me. I'm my own worst enemy.

Checking In

It's been a little while since I posted. Although there's been a fair amount of news to comment on, I haven't felt like commenting. I really don't wish to open up the can of worms in whoopass sauce that is the current Israel/Hamas situation. Being Jewish, I'm sure you can guess where I stand on that one, so I'll leave it at that. I will add that I don't always fully support the way Israel goes about dealing with these situations, but I don't have to go about my daily life wondering if my bus or the cafe I'm lunching in will blow up or if a Hamas rocket will come careening through my child's bedroom window in the middle of the night. Okay, so I kind of commented anyway. Sue me.

I was, however, tickled by this AP article this morning:

Minn. board expected to announce Al Franken winner

Do I think he'll be a good senator? No friggin' idea. Am I thrilled that he's winning simply because he's a democrat and will therefore increase the democratic majority in the senate? Sure. Besides, it's just a senate seat. It's not a real position of power like, say, mayor of Wasilla or some prestigious shit like that.

In familial news, things are chugging along chez Sincoff. Most days go fairly smoothly, though the baby does still have rough nights. He's changing so much day by day. His accidental smiles are now bigger and more frequent and less accidental. He doesn't scream bloody murder every time we change his diaper or outfit, just most times. He's acquired 3 different sounds that he employs often. One is a "monster sound," as I call it--sort of a growl. The second is a very piggy snort he makes when he gets all excited just before latching on or taking a bottle. The third is the cutest little high-pitched sigh I've ever heard. Sort of like "Hooo..." He makes that noise just before resting his head on my or his dad's chest and falling asleep. Can't wait to hear him laugh for the first time!

As if that's not enough, he turned 1 month old yesterday. Has it really been a month since he erupted from my uterus? Can't believe it. Here's a pic of my 1 month-old little devil after his bath yesterday.

I know I'm biased, but CHRIST!! Has there ever been a cuter kid? I think not.

Caylee Anthony Update

It's been quite some time since I blogged on this subject. There simply wasn't much news about the case, and I was busy preparing for the birth of our son.

Finally, on December 11th, the announcement came that the remains of a small child had been found in close proximity to the Anthony home. This announcement didn't jar me. I totally expected it and knew it was merely a matter of time. I knew it was Caylee--who else would it be?--and waited patiently for the DNA evidence to confirm what everyone already knew.
However, when Dr. G finally made the announcement this past Friday, I burst into tears; partly because it looked like Dr. G was choking back tears herself, partly because my new mommy hormones were still settling, but mostly out of sadness for a beautiful little girl who didn't deserve whatever horrible things happened to her to cause her death. Somehow the finding of her remains rendered her far more real to me than the phantom missing girl in the photos and video clips I'd been seeing for months.

I've only been a mommy a little more than 2 weeks now, but I can't possibly comprehend how anyone could do such a thing to her own child. I know there are those of you who still may doubt whether Casey is responsible or whether Caylee's death was an accident or murder, but give me a break, please. She was buried in a location her mother used as a fucking pet cemetery and, from the sound of things, wasn't even buried with the same care as the pets had been. Bottom line: the little girl died in such a way that her mother felt compelled to cover it up and dispose of her body. This boils down to gross neglect at the very least, and murder at the very worst. The fact that the grandparents have requested immunity (still waiting to hear whether this has been granted) implies some manner of wrongdoing on their parts--even if only obstruction of justice.

I can only hope that everyone involved in Caylee's death and the ensuing cover-up are held accountable for their deeds and sentenced accordingly. In a snippet from one of Casey Anthony's prison phone calls she says that her "gut feeling" is that Caylee is "OK and close to home." At least that last part was truthful.

Post-Partum Post

Just a quick update before Tobe and Daddy wake up.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend, Tobin Samuel Sincoff, has arrived! He was born at 4:47 pm on Thursday, December 4, 2008 weighing in at 6 lb 5 oz and measuring 18 1/2 inches. He is fantastically beautiful and healthy.

Ethan and I are exhausted, but overjoyed. My boys are napping on the couch as I type this (Tobe's in the Baby Hawk carrier strapped to Ethan's chest). I'm taking advantage of this break in the action for some "me time"--checking email and posting to the ol' blog.

The surgery went off w/o a hitch. I'm still a little sore, so utilizing my Percoset Rx, but feel great in general.

BFF Kayly is here to help (bless her heart). She made us a wonderful dinner tonight and saw me through my first sleep dep/hormonal imbalance shitfit. I felt soooooooooooooooo much better afterward.

I'm going to wake the little man up for pre-bed feeding in the hopes that he'll give Ethan and I at least 3 good hours of uninterrupted sleep. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

I'll leave you with a picture of Tobin emerging in all his purple, screaming glory and my favorite picture of our very first meeting. I'll post more pics when I'm well-rested enough that I remember to pull my underwear down before peeing. A crisis was narrowly averted, but it took me a sec to figure out why the seat wasn't cold.

Ooey gooey, fresh and jewy!!

So you're the little punk that's been pulverizing my innards for months...

OH! And congratulations to my friends Till and Sophie who both celebrated the births of beautiful baby girls on December 6th and 9th respectively. Discussions of arranged marriages and dowries are already in progress...

And Away We Go...

Not just yet. We've got about 90 mins until we head off.

Somehow I managed to get a good night's sleep, which was wonderful. Now I'm just hungry and dying for a cup of coffee. Ethan's running out to pick up some last minute things (like cat food, so we don't come home to 2 fur-covered skeletons), but I'm ready to go. Just a few more things to throw in the suitcase.

For my "going in" outfit, I've selected a black Maternity T and stretchy black crop pants. The pregnant ninja effect will be offset by my sock monkey slippers. Fuck shoes. Shoes are for bitches.

I was debating makeup since Ethan will be taking pictures in the OR, but I'll probably just save it for visitors from Friday on. I need to embrace the fact that it's perfectly acceptable for me to look exhausted and haggard today.

At this exact moment, I feel surprisingly calm. I've been through the procedure before, so I'm not in the least anxious about that. I'm trying to go into this thing with a confident, semi-cocky "of course everything's going to be fine!" attitude for a change. So far I've managed to muster a very zen, letting-go "nothing I can do from this point on..." attitude instead. It'll do in a pinch.

Boyfriend of the Week

I've decided to add a new weekly feature to the blog dedicated to my "Boyfriend of the Week." It drives Ethan nuts whenever I suggest, no matter how subtly, that I might find a particular celeb or artist attractive, yet it's perfectly fine for him to do the same--even going so far as making borderline inappropriate comments about the barely legal girls on Degrassi: Next Generation.

The honor of being my first ever BOTW goes to the insanely talented, eternally cool, undeniably sexy Mr. Elvis Costello. His new series, Spectacle, debuts on the Sundance Channel tonight at 9:00 pm. I can't wait to see it. He's bound to be a fantastic interviewer. He's also being nominated for his hysterically funny performance in Stephen Colbert's Christmas special.

Swoon...

Proud papa. He can rub my bump any day. Oops, did I type that out loud?
Accidents will happen...

Congratulations Elvis--on the new show and on being my inaugural Boyfriend of the Week!

One More Day

We got up far too early this morning to go to the Pathology lab at the hospital to have my pre-surgery blood tests. It took no time at all. We could've slept in another 30 to 45 mins :(.

We came home and put the car seat in the Corolla w/o killing each other. I'm chronically cranky since yesterday and poor Ethan is bearing the brunt of it. I have to keep assuring him that it's not personal, I'm just really, really uncomfortable. The seat had been lovingly installed in our other car by my good friend Bilynda, but said car decided to crap out last week.

Our fridge crapped out the day before Thanksgiving, so we're sitting here now waiting for the new one to be delivered. We were given a delivery window of 10:45 am to 12:45 pm. It's 12:33 pm now. WTF? I have my final OB appt at 3pm today. MFer had better be here by 2pm. I'm far too cranky to refrain from physical violence. I have this vision of Ethan holding me back while I yank out my earrings and scream and spit in the terrified Sears delivery guy's face.

If he's any later than 2pm, I'll need to drive myself to the appointment so Ethan can stay behind. I'm not thrilled about that. My stomach is now so tight against the wheel that Tobin could steer if he were so inclined.

We still have a few errands to run, but I'm looking forward to relaxing on our last night as a twosome. I'm not supposed to eat after midnight despite my surgery only being scheduled for 4pm tomorrow, so I'll be enjoying a sizable "last meal" tonight. Haven't decided what it will be, but it will be large and carb-laden and delicious, dammit.

Off to shower and then rest before my doc appointment. Ethan can wrangle the delivery guy. BTW, it's now 12:51 pm and no word from Sears. Nice. I just called and they're running behind. Looks like I'll be driving myself after all. If my OB checks my chooch and decides to admit me STAT, Ethan will have to take a cab to the doc's office to pick up both myself and the car. FUN!
I'll just keep my fingers and legs crossed that that doesn't happen...

Gravid

That's how I feel today--like a pregnant sea turtle. The ultrasound has it all wrong. There's no baby in there, just hundreds of wet, leathery eggs. I'm fighting the urge to drive down to Sandy Hook right now and dig a nice, big egg cavity in the sand with my hind flippers.

OK, so I'm being melodramatic again...It's definitely a baby. We saw him again today. The ultrasound technician tried her darnedest to get us some good face pictures, but he had his dukes up as usual. It's even tighter in there now than last week, so the face is even smushier.

In this first picture, he just looks like a face in the clouds.

In this next one, he looks exactly like Daddy when he's sitting on the couch, stuffing his face with pretzels and watching the Giants. That's his hand up by his yap.

I was ready to declare him the indisputable spitting image of his Dad until the tech took this next picture. She had been shaking him with the wand for a good minute or two trying to get him to put his hands down, but he flat out refused to do so. Instead, he favored us with this dead on impersonation of Mom's pissed off face. Note the furrowed brow and pouty bottom lip.

Man, is this kid gonna be trouble...