Today is Denim Day. You may be already wearing jeans today without realizing that you are making a statement about the myths surrounding sexual assault. Denim Day was launched in response to a 1998 Italian Supreme Court decision in which a rape conviction was overturned because the victim was wearing tight jeans. The “reasoning” behind the decision was that there was no way the perpetrator could have gotten the victim’s jeans off without assistance from her, and that this was thus a consensual act. Oh, of course! Now I get it.
In response, female members of the Italian Parliament protested by wearing jeans on the steps of the Italian Supreme Court. Thus was Denim Day born.
Since our office is not casual except on Fridays, wearing jeans would generally be frowned upon on a Wednesday. But today, thank God it’s not, because I seriously have very few clothes that fit due to my expanding waistline. I have three pairs of maternity pants that need to be returned to various places because they are too big. “But won’t you grow into them?” you say. No, my friends, I won’t. I am really disturbed by the fact that vanity sizing even extends to maternity wear.
Today, I am wearing a pair of cropped, slightly big on me maternity jeans with a coral top, seersucker jacket, and sandals. When I left the house this morning, I was feeling pretty put together. I was pleased to realize I could get through another week looking halfway decent with the clothes I have on hand. And then, when I got to work, I dropped something under my desk, and squooshing over to get it, I saw I still have a Little Mermaid* (temporary) tattoo on my ankle. It’s bright red.
Oops. I have a meeting with our President and CEO today. Hopefully she won’t be checking out my legs.
* By the by, a new Little Mermaid movie, The Little Mermaid: Ariel’s Beginning, is coming out on DVD in August. If you’re into that kind of thing.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
THE + IRS = THEIRS
I'm thinking I might just label all posts from my formerly super secret pregnancy blog as "Belly Overwhelmed" and transfer them here. Because I don't have anything to do except obsess over crap like this.
It keeps my mind off of the terrible tragic consequences of Tax Day yesterday. Our accountant left us hanging until the last minute and then told us we owed money. Not a small amount. A major, "could be a down payment on two new cars" amount. Rat bastard! Have I mentioned that we're having a baby and would like to buy a house?
At least we had the money*, although I would have preferred to spend it on something else.
* We are generally pretty good savers. This is made easier by the fact that Sweet Dub makes considerably more money than I do, what with him being in the Entertainment Business and me being all about the Non-Profit Arena.
It keeps my mind off of the terrible tragic consequences of Tax Day yesterday. Our accountant left us hanging until the last minute and then told us we owed money. Not a small amount. A major, "could be a down payment on two new cars" amount. Rat bastard! Have I mentioned that we're having a baby and would like to buy a house?
I'm proud to pay taxes in the United States; the only thing is, I could be just as proud for half the money. ~Arthur Godfrey
At least we had the money*, although I would have preferred to spend it on something else.
* We are generally pretty good savers. This is made easier by the fact that Sweet Dub makes considerably more money than I do, what with him being in the Entertainment Business and me being all about the Non-Profit Arena.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Food, Glorious Food
Lately I've been bringing yogurt to work with me in the morning. I sprinkle some granola over it and it is quite delicious. Today, when I tasted my yogurt, it tasted a bit too tangy. I believe it has gone bad. This pisses me off to an irrational degree. I have eaten two granola bars and I am still hungry. It is not even 11:00 AM.
In more happy news, over the weekend when I bought beer at the supermarket, the cashier carded me. She took a long look at my license. "Is that -- '68?" she said. "Wow, well you don't look your age at all." I guess I am remarkably well-preserved. If I could have tipped her, I would.
P.S. The beer was not for me. Although I do sometimes use it in cooking.
P.P.S. I just got an email notice inviting me to join co-workers for cake for someone's birthday at 11:30! I am pretty sure Fetal Blah likes cake. Sweet!
In more happy news, over the weekend when I bought beer at the supermarket, the cashier carded me. She took a long look at my license. "Is that -- '68?" she said. "Wow, well you don't look your age at all." I guess I am remarkably well-preserved. If I could have tipped her, I would.
P.S. The beer was not for me. Although I do sometimes use it in cooking.
P.P.S. I just got an email notice inviting me to join co-workers for cake for someone's birthday at 11:30! I am pretty sure Fetal Blah likes cake. Sweet!
Monday, April 14, 2008
True Story
I have been given the thankless task of compiling a report on an outside program model which my organization is supposed to be implementing. No one can seem to tell me exactly how many departments in the organization are using said model, how long they’ve been using it, or how many clients have been served therefrom.* In exasperation, I contact one of our finance people, A., to find out which departments have been billing against it. And here we go.
Email from A: “It seems to me you should contact accounts payable person, B. If you don’t get the answers you need, come back to me.”
I dutifully email B. I then am cc’d on an email from B. to Finance Person C., the sum total of which is a forward of my email with the addendum: “please advise.”
I then receive an email from C., which says, “A. should be able to help you with this.”
I email back, “A. is the one who told me to contact B,” cc’ing all three.
I then receive an email from A. saying, “I’ll look into it.”
Holy mother of God. This exchange took half a day. It is like I have been sucked into some bizarre circle of hell from which I shall never be free.
Quite honestly, I really think there is nothing for it right now but to eat some ice cream to calm my ravaged nerves.
* Made it up. Seems to me that if you can say, “herewith,” you should also be able to say, “therefrom.”
Email from A: “It seems to me you should contact accounts payable person, B. If you don’t get the answers you need, come back to me.”
I dutifully email B. I then am cc’d on an email from B. to Finance Person C., the sum total of which is a forward of my email with the addendum: “please advise.”
I then receive an email from C., which says, “A. should be able to help you with this.”
I email back, “A. is the one who told me to contact B,” cc’ing all three.
I then receive an email from A. saying, “I’ll look into it.”
Holy mother of God. This exchange took half a day. It is like I have been sucked into some bizarre circle of hell from which I shall never be free.
Quite honestly, I really think there is nothing for it right now but to eat some ice cream to calm my ravaged nerves.
* Made it up. Seems to me that if you can say, “herewith,” you should also be able to say, “therefrom.”
Friday, April 11, 2008
I Hope You’re Sitting Down
Today I am exactly four months away from my 40th birthday.
Forty years old, Jesus. Some people I know have thrown big parties when they have a milestone birthday. Other people do things like train for a marathon or plan the trip of a lifetime to celebrate. As for me, I wasn’t planning much of anything. I thought we might throw a party, preferably at our new house if we had moved by then. I’d probably drink champagne and enjoy some tasty little nibbles, surrounded by loved ones.
That may still happen. But it appears that I will also be doing something completely unexpected at my 40th birthday: waddling around and watching my feet swell up.
Bloggy Friends: I am pregnant. By my birthday, mid-summer, I expect to be quite large – I will be around 7 months pregnant then if all goes well, knock wood, God willing, etc.
I know, I know – take a moment, take a deep breath. It was a bit of a shock to us too, Sweet Dub in particular.
If you’re interested, I have been blogging about it on my super secret pregnancy blog, which I will make public for you now. Read on if you have a moment. If you don’t, at least just read this one post about Viva’s reaction. It was quite heartwarming and hilarious.
As for me, even though I’ve known about it for 5 weeks now, I’m still trying to work it all out. Don’t get me wrong – I am happy and curious about this new little person, but a bit freaked out about how we will fit another child into the Blah Blah lifestyle. More specifically, into the Blah Blah home, which you should note is only 864 sq. ft. Our bedroom quite literally has no space for a bassinet, never mind a changing table or dresser, and we have two closets in our entire house.
It will all work out, because we will figure it out. I’m just concerned (as I must be) with logistics. Happy Friday! More to come…
Forty years old, Jesus. Some people I know have thrown big parties when they have a milestone birthday. Other people do things like train for a marathon or plan the trip of a lifetime to celebrate. As for me, I wasn’t planning much of anything. I thought we might throw a party, preferably at our new house if we had moved by then. I’d probably drink champagne and enjoy some tasty little nibbles, surrounded by loved ones.
That may still happen. But it appears that I will also be doing something completely unexpected at my 40th birthday: waddling around and watching my feet swell up.
Bloggy Friends: I am pregnant. By my birthday, mid-summer, I expect to be quite large – I will be around 7 months pregnant then if all goes well, knock wood, God willing, etc.
I know, I know – take a moment, take a deep breath. It was a bit of a shock to us too, Sweet Dub in particular.
If you’re interested, I have been blogging about it on my super secret pregnancy blog, which I will make public for you now. Read on if you have a moment. If you don’t, at least just read this one post about Viva’s reaction. It was quite heartwarming and hilarious.
As for me, even though I’ve known about it for 5 weeks now, I’m still trying to work it all out. Don’t get me wrong – I am happy and curious about this new little person, but a bit freaked out about how we will fit another child into the Blah Blah lifestyle. More specifically, into the Blah Blah home, which you should note is only 864 sq. ft. Our bedroom quite literally has no space for a bassinet, never mind a changing table or dresser, and we have two closets in our entire house.
It will all work out, because we will figure it out. I’m just concerned (as I must be) with logistics. Happy Friday! More to come…
Friday, April 04, 2008
Disneyland, Belatedly
Ah, yes, Disneyland. I realize I have not yet recapped it for you.
When we last left the Blah Blahs, Viva's Best Friend's mom had not yet responded about Disneyland, despite the fact that this would be a completely free trip for her and one adult guest (except for gas). Well, my friends, Best Friend's mom never ever returned Mama Blah Blah's calls. Last time the Blah Blahs and Best Friends got together, they spent four hours on a playdate at the Blah Blah homestead. Were the snacks insufficient? Were the baseboards not clean? Was it something I said? Who knows?
Moving on: Auntie Lola and her offspring were more than happy to come along. We were more than happy to treat them, and Viva was more than happy to have her cousins along. You might think that the three kids of different genders/ages would be an awkward mix. But you would be wrong. Viva and M, the 9-year-old, have very similar personalities and really enjoy each other. Viva and T, the 5-year-old, are different temperamentally but close enough in age that they have common interests. Thus: win-win.
Lola and fam rolled up to our house at 8:25 in the morning on Saturday. They actually arrived early, which was shocking. We weren't ready, which is even more unusual. We hit the road at about 8:50, arrived at Disneyland at 9:30, and what with the tram and stroller rental (for all our stuff, not for the kids) hit the park officially at about 10:00 AM.
The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. Let me share some of it with you in pictures:
Viva with "Jack Sparrow," who could not keep his hands off her hair. (Jealous!) This was on Tom Sawyer Island, the only calm spot in the entire park. You get there by raft, and there are no rides on the island. I could have stayed there for hours.
The teacups. This was pretty much the favorite ride for all three kids. T hated every other ride (you see Lola is having to gingerly place him in his seat. He has an innate distrust of all rides.). M and Viva both enjoyed the roller coaster (T would not ride) and the Buzz Lightyear ride (T was only interested in getting a souvenir - poor little guy. "He has trouble with new situations," Lola said).
The seething tide of humanity at the Disneyland parade. It is impossible to convey to you how many friggin' people clog the park on a Saturday at Disneyland. I think they let in approximately 9 trillion people per hour.
End of the day. From left: Viva, M, and T. The kids are completely high on cotton candy and who-knows-what. At this point, M has already begun begging for Viva to sleep over that night, the other two have joined in haranguing my sister, and Lola has caved despite my protestations that we can plan it some other time. So we shlep back through the park, onto the tram, tramp through the parking lot, remove the car seat from our car, install it in Lola's car, and wave goodbye.
I think I fell asleep at about 8:30. Lola reports that (a) none of the kids slept in the car on the way home and (b)Viva did not fall asleep until close to midnight. That Lola, she is a trooper, all right.
When we last left the Blah Blahs, Viva's Best Friend's mom had not yet responded about Disneyland, despite the fact that this would be a completely free trip for her and one adult guest (except for gas). Well, my friends, Best Friend's mom never ever returned Mama Blah Blah's calls. Last time the Blah Blahs and Best Friends got together, they spent four hours on a playdate at the Blah Blah homestead. Were the snacks insufficient? Were the baseboards not clean? Was it something I said? Who knows?
Moving on: Auntie Lola and her offspring were more than happy to come along. We were more than happy to treat them, and Viva was more than happy to have her cousins along. You might think that the three kids of different genders/ages would be an awkward mix. But you would be wrong. Viva and M, the 9-year-old, have very similar personalities and really enjoy each other. Viva and T, the 5-year-old, are different temperamentally but close enough in age that they have common interests. Thus: win-win.
Lola and fam rolled up to our house at 8:25 in the morning on Saturday. They actually arrived early, which was shocking. We weren't ready, which is even more unusual. We hit the road at about 8:50, arrived at Disneyland at 9:30, and what with the tram and stroller rental (for all our stuff, not for the kids) hit the park officially at about 10:00 AM.
The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. Let me share some of it with you in pictures:
Viva with "Jack Sparrow," who could not keep his hands off her hair. (Jealous!) This was on Tom Sawyer Island, the only calm spot in the entire park. You get there by raft, and there are no rides on the island. I could have stayed there for hours.
The teacups. This was pretty much the favorite ride for all three kids. T hated every other ride (you see Lola is having to gingerly place him in his seat. He has an innate distrust of all rides.). M and Viva both enjoyed the roller coaster (T would not ride) and the Buzz Lightyear ride (T was only interested in getting a souvenir - poor little guy. "He has trouble with new situations," Lola said).
The seething tide of humanity at the Disneyland parade. It is impossible to convey to you how many friggin' people clog the park on a Saturday at Disneyland. I think they let in approximately 9 trillion people per hour.
End of the day. From left: Viva, M, and T. The kids are completely high on cotton candy and who-knows-what. At this point, M has already begun begging for Viva to sleep over that night, the other two have joined in haranguing my sister, and Lola has caved despite my protestations that we can plan it some other time. So we shlep back through the park, onto the tram, tramp through the parking lot, remove the car seat from our car, install it in Lola's car, and wave goodbye.
I think I fell asleep at about 8:30. Lola reports that (a) none of the kids slept in the car on the way home and (b)Viva did not fall asleep until close to midnight. That Lola, she is a trooper, all right.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Happy Birthday, Viva My Love
Dear Viva,
You turned 5 today. How is it possible? Daddy and I look at this gorgeous, long-legged, smart and silly girl, and you take our breath away. You are so much more amazing than I could ever have imagined. I love it that you are both sensible and fanciful. I love it that you want to be a superhero, an astronaut, a cowgirl, a zoologist, a mom. I love your little turns of phrase and the way you frown when I laugh at some of the things you say, and the way you immediately stop frowning when I say I’m not laughing at you, I’m just laughing because the way you talk makes me happy. Even when I am exhausted and not even wanting to deal with anything, I do marvel at your exuberance.
What a journey it has been with you. You have evolved from a never-want-to-leave-mama’s-side baby to a somewhat timid toddler to an absolutely fearless Five. Your parents both love to talk, and so do you. For years now, people have been telling me how advanced you are for your age, how verbal you are, how easy it is to understand you. We lie on your bed and you read to me, sounding out some of the words slowly. It is heaven for me, a hardcore reader and lover of words, to be by your side as you learn to enjoy poetry and song lyrics. Now you are learning jokes!
I so look forward to growing up with you and I know you will teach me as much as I teach you. I love you so, so much, my little puka shell. Here’s to many more birthdays together.
Love,
Mama
You turned 5 today. How is it possible? Daddy and I look at this gorgeous, long-legged, smart and silly girl, and you take our breath away. You are so much more amazing than I could ever have imagined. I love it that you are both sensible and fanciful. I love it that you want to be a superhero, an astronaut, a cowgirl, a zoologist, a mom. I love your little turns of phrase and the way you frown when I laugh at some of the things you say, and the way you immediately stop frowning when I say I’m not laughing at you, I’m just laughing because the way you talk makes me happy. Even when I am exhausted and not even wanting to deal with anything, I do marvel at your exuberance.
What a journey it has been with you. You have evolved from a never-want-to-leave-mama’s-side baby to a somewhat timid toddler to an absolutely fearless Five. Your parents both love to talk, and so do you. For years now, people have been telling me how advanced you are for your age, how verbal you are, how easy it is to understand you. We lie on your bed and you read to me, sounding out some of the words slowly. It is heaven for me, a hardcore reader and lover of words, to be by your side as you learn to enjoy poetry and song lyrics. Now you are learning jokes!
I so look forward to growing up with you and I know you will teach me as much as I teach you. I love you so, so much, my little puka shell. Here’s to many more birthdays together.
Love,
Mama
Viva, June 2003, with her Daddy
April 1, 2004. Daddy & Viva in Santa Barbara, CA. Age 1.
April 1, 2005. Viva doing her birthday dance in her room before her party. Age 2.
April 1, 2006. With her face painted, at a party with her cousins. Age 3.
April 1, 2007. Viva on the phone with her grandpa (too sick to come to the party). Age 4.
More to come of Viva in all her Fabulous Fiveness!
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