Christmas Cringes

So, it's been awhile since I've blogged. Ok, a long while for anyone following. The holidays kinda sneeked up on us this year. Usually, by the time Thanksgiving rolls around, I'm all gung-ho about getting that Christmas tree as fast as possible cut and dragged to it's final resting place in the corner of my dining room. I proceed to lug all the boxes of ornaments and tree fluff upstairs and assemble my work of holly jolly art.

This year, I'm not there. Or I should say, I'm not here, in that holiday buzz that surrounds my dining room corner, all lit by the chosen tree. It's been a rough year all along. Especially with a new baby.

I've had a hard time adjusting to motherhood all year. When Josh turned six months and he went from fussy baby who eats and sleeps all day, to a babbling bubbly alert baby, I thought that crazy, paranoid feeling of doom and just sheer I-can't-handle-this-thing-called-motherhood business was over. Sometimes, on days like today, I am reminded that perhaps it's not. I remember about six months after Josh's presence was made in the world, before he became bubbly, I had a conversation with my midwife. A routine visit that would turn into a crying fest on the table (sorry for the visual). At that time, I had just broken my foot right before a two major events at work (this lead to a knee-high cast and krutches being added to my wardrobe and no work for six weeks), Josh had surgery (for another post, someday), and my car was stolen out of our driveway at home (also another amusing post). I will remind the audience that this all happened in the space of two weeks time.

All I did was cry, especially on the weekends when the Hubbs was at work most of the day and I was left alone to fend for myself and this little bundle of breastmilk, spit and poop. This scene, however, had become a tradition in my house since my son was born (the crying, I mean). I decided it was time to get this weird feeling I was having about being a mom and the distance I felt towards my son, checked out. So there I was on the table-thingy in the doc's office, in my cast, feeling utterly lost and like a freak. I didn't even know where to start because it had gone on so long. There were times I was happy, lots of times I think. Just I couldn't stay happy for very long and I still had not bonded with my baby. WTF? What was wrong with me?

So there I was, spilling to the midwife who had delivered my son, everything that had happened recently and how I had been feeling even before our life temporarily collapsed. I think I went through a box of Kleenex in that visit. I remember her asking me if I wanted to hurt myself and I said Uh, No.  She said ok looks like you're just stressed out with what's happening in your life right now (REALLY? YOU DON"T SAY!) perhaps you should see a shrink and talk about it.

That's it. And I was cured! Well, no, but I managed. Many crying sessions later, Josh became bubbly and a happy baby (no thanks to my crying, I'm sure). And as time went on, I just ignored those feelings towards him, if the crept up occasionally. I will never know really if I was suffering from postpartum depression. You get those surveys at the hospital and at the doc's office after you have a baby. Do you have suicidal thoughts? How often do you cry? blah blah blah...  Geez, the survey makes you not want to take it. There's nothing inviting about those questions. And what about the answers? scale of 1 to 5, or often to rarely? So will they only take me seriously if the paper is littered with 5's and all Often's? Regretably, I never did see a psychiatrist. Which I still think about every once in a while when those feelings creep in.

So back to my original point, this year's been littered with crap events. One of my good friend's brother passed away earlier in the year. Tragic story I won't tell since it's not mine to share. Shortly thereafter, the foot, Josh's surgery and the car fiascos. We coasted most of the summer, even got away for a week's vacation. But the year just couldn't end on a high note, couldn't you?

The Hubbs experienced a career blow and hefty paycut to match (thank you, corporate bastards). Last week, after Josh has been so kindly sharing his gooey germs with me, I managed to clog the bathroom sink. Which, evidently kick-started a parade of crappy events all over again. It turns out we need to replace the entire plumbing system in our 1959 home. Dear House, you suck. We had to rip out the kitchen cabinets to access the plumbing and replace a hot water heater and main sewage line. CRAZY!!!

My job, for now, is doing good. In fact, I got a raise.... literally, a crumb, for taking on another person's job. These people are saving hundreds of thousands of dollars by not hiring someone and I get a penny. A FREAKIN' PENNY!!!! (ok, not really, but it could be). So instead of working ten hours a day and not seeing my son that often, and in return for my penny, I get to work 14 hours a day (on a good day), learn an entirely new job, and come out of this alive! Oh, did I mention I have to raise $10Million a YEAR! A YEAR! yes, let me repeat: ONE YEARRRRRR!!!!

In the spirit of Christmas and all the merry holidays, I still have a job. Which is something that some people can't say these days. And as I sit across from the Hubbs, who's feverishly searching for a new job as we speak, I am thinking of all the wonderful things I am hoping for this new year. Putting behind this awful crap of a year and moving forward to greener pastures, where Christmas trees grow, waiting to be decorated with tree fluff in some lucky person's living room.

Feeling Inspired

Yesterday was an unusually quiet day at the office, and as I say that I am kicking myself for the impending punishment to come. So I did what I always do on quiet days, I surf the WWW to seek some much-needed inspiration, learn a few tricks and feed my imagination. Wouldn't you know, I came across this fantastic thing called an online Quilting Bee. How Awesome!!! The ladies over at The Block Party Quilting, who by the way are now publishing a book (kudos!), have been doing this online bee thing with other quilters/bloggers online.

For the last year or so, since I discovered quilting, I've been wanting to join a bee. Sadly, in my generation, we have lost the arts and craftsy-ness in our lives- everything is so Walmart and Target, who needs to actually make something when you can buy it for so cheap and all it took was a trip to the store or a few clicks of your mouse? So this is why I love the internet: I have at last found other people in all age groups that are really intense about quilting. I don't know how they manage, but I'm fascinated and impressed at once with how other women keep jobs, run households, raise kids and quilt like crazy! Stay tuned... I'm almost done with my first quilt, a baby quilt for my son I've been working on for two years and just now got done trimming.

A Taste for Dog Hair

Josh is getting to be very mobile now. Cruising all over the living room, swinging off of furniture and speed-crawling to the nearest electrical outlet. Yes, we've babyproofed. Well, sort of... we got the outlets covered and the baby gates up, but that's about it. The rest requires 24-hours surveillance of the speed-crawling suspect. A little exhausting, but at least I get to play with him while I'm at it. I wonder what he's thinking when the fistfuls of dog hair get into his mouth- YUM! I'd like to give a big THANKS for the loads of dog hair to my never-shed-ending mutt, Lemon.

Giraffes, Giraffes, and Polka Dots

For awhile now, I've been busy planning my son's FIRST birthday party! I still can't believe my little teeny boy who refused to nurse has managed to eat enough to get this big and OLD! Funny thing is, I'm not so much thinking of it as me getting old as I thought I would. It's bittersweet- the baby is gone now and enter this little person with tons of personality and energy that requires a leash.

Well, enough of the sentimental crap...now for the good stuff: party planning! We hadn't really come up with a theme until we came across these:

Who can resist this lovable giraffe with the soothing, modern blue? So I'm taking this theme and running with it...fast.

For favors, I've asked my fabulous friend and owner of Rise Bakery in Clinton, NJ to make these awesome Giraffe cookies with fondant and royal icing (picture to arrive soon). Same Aunt Patricia also offered to make the cake. How exciting! Something Tiffany blue with a giraffe somewhere, that's all I got so far- it's going to be so cute!

More to come... his party was actually today and I can't wait to compile everything that we actually did!

Fall is in the Air

Fall has come around again! As I am typing, Josh is sleeping like a cat splayed on my lap (supercuteness!) It's my favorite time of the year- the leaves, the cool air, and this year is especially important: Josh's First Birthday! I'm working on a post all about his party- I can't wait to share it!

I haven't been blogging long about this, but this milestone is such an accomplishment for me as a mom. We made it! Survived the first year and can't wait to celebrate many more with my little peanut. I've managed to barrel through the year and it certainly has been a blur. Thank goodness for video and digital cameras, or I'd really never remember those exciting moments like the first spoon of cereal, the first crawl, you get my drift.

We're also planning a Vermont trip in early October. Hubbs and I just LOVE the Green Mountain State. We were going to get married there, but it just didn't happen. So instead we try to get away every few months in the Fall and Winter seasons to take in the fresh air and tranquility that Vermont just oozes. We usually stay at our fave B&B, The Buckmaster Inn in Shrewsbury. Innkeepers Liz & Richard are just fantastic hosts! We've been staying there for a few years now and we can't think of a warmer place. They have really raised our standards for B&B stays; anywhere we stay now at a B&B, we always compare it to the Buckmaster. From the hearty breakfasts (and they will make anything you want!) to the fabulous simple chic country decor, this is definitely THE place to stay when central VT. Oh, and it's small, so you don't get this crowded B&B feeling of staying at a large inn. You get to know all the guests and the innkeepers really well. We were even invited to have dinner with them on our last trip!

So yesterday, in preparation for the cold weather, and let's face, mostly because I feel guilty about neglecting my house this past year, I went out and bought my house a present- a new fence. Lemon and Muffie (the canine duo) have really done a number on the current cheap picket fence that came with the house. Hubbs has done some tampering with the gate to keep it from coming off the latch, but it really is on it's last leg. So in one week and $1,500 later, House will have a new fence attached. Are you happy now House? Will you forgive me for the recent neglect? We mulched and weeded last month, pruned the bushes and the flowers, and gave the grass some drinking water. You may even get a new roof next year, we'll see how you behave. You are certainly starting to shape up now! I love this time of year.

What's the Hardest Thing?

Recently, I was cornered by a co-worker of mine who is thinking about having kids with his wife. And since I am the proud owner of baby Josh 1.0, he thought I'd somehow have something spectacular to say about parenthood. Geez, no pressure here.  He asked me, what I think is the all-important question, So what was the hardest thing for you being a new parent?  WOW! I've really thought about this several times over the past year. Parenting is so different for everyone, but we all have something that's especially challenging.

So anyway, I pondered for a second and blurted out: the hardest part was dealing with this overwhelming feeling of utter responsibility for another human life. I'm not important anymore, but this little creature that cries, sleeps and poops non-stop (these days, I can relate to Dooce and her Olympic Pooper, thankfully my washing machine works), somehow relies on ME for everything and if something happens to him, it's MY FAULT.

Now, really, can you just imagine walking around with that on your shoulders everyday? I need to get myself a great chiropractor. For me, everything else about being a parent just comes with the territory and is an absolute cake-walk in comparison. I can deal with colic, the diapers, and sick babies (this last one was also tough, ranks #2). But in the background, is this intense R-word feeling (I can't even say it sometimes). Even after 10 months, it's still there. There are days I want to tear my hair out, when the crying doesn't ever seem to stop. I step back and just wonder, I must be doing something wrong, he's not supposed to cry like this. Maybe I work too much, maybe it's the peas I gave him last night, oh! I know! He doesn't like that toy!  Nope. But whatever it is, it's all on me. I just hope I don't mess him up too much.

A Legacy of Fear: Remembering 9/11

So every year since 2001, all of America stops for a moment on September 11 to honor and remember this tragic anniversary. For those of us that were around at the time, we all have stories about what we were doing that day and how our lives and our perception of safety was changed forever. For most of us who witnessed this day through the lens of the media, we go about our daily lives throughout the year. But it's when September 11 rolls around again, I still feel profound sadness and loss for everything we lost that day. This is my story of what I was doing that day. It might seem trivial and, I imagine, unoriginal as many college students at the time experienced something similar on the bus that day. Nonetheless, it changed me and what was most affected to this day was my perception of safety in my country.

I was starting my Junior year at Rutgers and had just gotten out this dreadful Calculus class that was supposedly my "for fun" class. I crossed a busy College Road and got myself on the bus to a building several blocks away for my next class. The time was just after 10am.

I remember the bus being unusually quiet, just because this was typically "rush hour" for students and even though the bus was full, something was amiss. There were two girls sitting next to me and I eavesdropped in on their conversation. One girl was telling the other that the Twin Towers were bombed.  The girl wasn't sure because she had heard it from someone else. But I was so intent on getting to my class that I just thought they were talking about the 1993 bombing, maybe it was a class project or something. As I approached the building for my next class, I noticed that there were no students hanging out in the entrance to that building as was usual, especially before the start of class. There were signs posted on the door and the hallways were emptied. The signs read: In light of today's tragic events, classes have been cancelled. What? What were they talking about?

I reached for my cell phone to dial my mother to see what she knew- my phone was cut off. But I just knew I had paid the bill! What was going on? So I proceed to call Verizon operator and she told me that service was interrupted for some time. I asked her why and she said, "The towers were bombed". I said to her, what do you mean?  She's all, Didn't you watch the news? I could have reached into the phone, grabbed her and shook her feverishly, but I thought I'd at least get her to tell me what was going! Then she was all, the Twin Towers were bombed this morning and we've lost service in most of the New York metro area- go home, it's all over the news. Ok, something was very wrong here- the Verizon operator lady just told me to GO HOME.

So I got on the next bus, shaking all the way back to my apartment where my roommate was already glued to the only channel we had left. We didn't leave that tv screen for two days (well, except for a bathroom break here and there). For two days, the world stopped and was tuned into FOX for the most horrendous and heartbreaking news coverage in my generation's lifetime. Classes were cancelled, the roads were emptied, no one came or left the campus. We could see the Fort Dix military helicopters flying over the campus every few hours, patroling the skies.

In 2003, while working in a hotel located near Newark Airport, an Arab man walked into my restaurant. He looked around and started asking me questions about the security in the hotel: why so many guards, what are they looking for? what about security at the airport? is it this tight too? Certainly, interesting inquiries from an out-of-towner in any case. BUT this was post 9/11 and as much as we try, stereotypes always manage to creep into your mind, especially when our safety is threatened. I remember this terrifying, creepy feeling overcoming me in the restaurant as this man fired off his odd questions at me. The next thing I knew, I was on the phone with the Chief of Security and he marched into the restaurant with a fellow guard and planted himself at this man's table. The three men sat for a LONG time. I will never know what they talked about and I'm sure this Arab felt completely profiled. For that, I would like to send my apologies to this man. But, unless you lived underground on 9/11, you had to know what this country had just been through and you don't go around asking employees of an airport hotel about the security protocol (AND especially if you are Middle Eastern)!!! 

Eight years: yes, life has continued. Do I feel any safer today? No. Even though I didn't lose any family or friends that day at the hands of terrorists, I lost my innocence and faith in humanity. That people could think of and execute such a heinous act in the name of a god, was almost historic. These things weren't supposed to happen in my generation- my lifetime. But they did. I look at my son now: a bubbling, innocent child who has no idea of what it's like to watch something like this unfold on your TV live. They only way he'll know about this now is through a textbook someday in a History class. I only hope we will have learned the lessons so that our children will never have to experience such human tragedy as we did.