Uppercase Woman

Birthday Parties Are Fucking Expensive

Holy shit. We just got back from the party store, where we spent $100 on crap for Tori's birthday. And I feel like we were very low-key. Well, if by low-key you mean we bought Tori a $10 hat that says "Birthday Princess" on it that she will wear for 2.2 seconds. And one of those helium balloon kits that can blow up 50 balloons. And a big banner that says "Happy Birthday". And pink plates, cause, you know, Tori's a girl.

Yeah. REAL low-key.

Plus we paid $60 to reserved the pavilion at the state park. Plus we haven't even bought the food yet. All we're gonna serve is hot dogs and burgers, and we'll buy those at Giant Membership Store that is NOT affiliated with Walfuckingmart. But we will also have to get buns for both, and condiments, and charcoal for the grill, and drinks for the 50 people that are coming, not to mention the huge full-sheet cake we ordered, and and and...

Crap. Who's fucking idea was this big birthday bash anyway????

Oh, right. Ahem.

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As far as the pool thing goes, we've somewhat decided on a course of action. First off, we have been told that the full membership doesn't start coming to the pool until after school is out, so we will wait another couple of weeks to see what the membership pool (no pun intended) really looks like. Since the folks that were given a hard time were not actually OUR guests, but our neighbor's, we will step back and let them contact management. We've all decided a LOT depends on how the management reacts.

If in two weeks we've had a bad experience with management, and people at the pool continue to be jerks, we'll rethink the situation and make a decision then. If we have to walk away, we will, even though it probably means we'll lose all our money which means we can't afford to join the other pool club (sigh).

But there have been signs of hope; first off, I spotted another mom nursing her baby at the pool, and she seemed very cool when we spoke with her. I've also seen more people of color at the pool; a lot of African-American kids, and a Indian or Pakistani family too. It's not much, but it actually reflects the demographics of that town pretty well (at least, the children at the pool do). It turns out that unlike our borough, this town is nearly all Irish and Italian-American. Overwhelmingly so, in fact.

If it gets worse, all of the more dramatic options are on the table still. So no worries. We won't let anything go unmentioned, but we won't rush to judgment either.

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At the party store today, I had an overwhelming moment. One of those shiny, happy moments when I realize that this is NOT routine, that in fact, we are shopping for crap for our daughter's first birthday.

Our DAUGHTER. Who is going to be one-year-old a week from today.

It's just so damned amazing, that after all this time, after four years of absolute hell and one year of pure joy that we are here.

Finally.

It makes me want to run through the party store buying EVERYTHING to celebrate.

Some new photos of Tori on Flickr. Oh, and more silly self-portraits. I'm like a smidge away from totally imitating Sarah's project (if you haven't checked out her self-portraits, you should)! Oh, and Sarah has some cute shots of us at the pool here. Especially this one...

Confused

I'm having a very difficult time staying in the day lately. Even though I'm at home, working and spending time with Tori, I find myself constantly thinking ahead. Thinking about what I'll cook for the next meal, what I'll do after the next nap, planning where I'll go on the next walk, what I'll write for that next project...

If I'm not thinking about that, I'm thinking about things like, when are we going camping? And where will I get my next freelance job after this one ends? Will I have to go back to work?

It's not good for me. If I'm not focused on the moment, I get all crazy. In recovery terms, we often say that if you have one foot in yesterday and one foot in tomorrow, you're pissing all over today. And that's what I feel like I'm doing--pissing all over today, all over this great moment when sitting here writing this blog, leaping up occasionally because Tori continues to find more and more ways to get into things, and watching while the dog is stretched out lazily in the sun. Instead of savoring those moments, I'm thinking about what I'm going to write in the next section of this blog.

I think this is why sleeping has been so elusive for me. I'm too busy being focused on the next thing.

What it comes down to, of course, is a lack of faith. I don't feel safe without having a job, and I don't trust that things will work out. AT ALL. I'm so wrapped up in that I can't even settle into the joy that is my life at home.

Grrrrr. I hope this levels out. I hate feeling this way.

There's plenty of summer left to camp in. There is work through the end of the year, giving me ample time to find more clients. The dog can tell me where to go on our walks. The meals will all work themselves out.

I just need to relax. Sigh. I HATE being told to relax.

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And now, on to the next thing. :)

I have a question for y'all. I need your opinion on a very important matter.

As I've mentioned before, we joined a local pool club. There are two very close to where we live; one is practically across the street from the other, but they are technically in two different towns. We chose the one that's actually in the next town over. We chose it for several reasons: one, they were considerably less expensive; two, they allow toys and flotation devices on children in the pool; and three, they were much, much less expensive.

It's a lovely pool. They have a nice playground attached, their snack bar is excellent, the baby pool is huge and allows Tori to cruise in a huge circle while in the water. They heat the big pool when it's still cool out. We like it a lot.

BUT. Big, big, BUT.

There were no people of color using this pool the first day we went. The second time, on Monday, there were a handful of African-American children. Which is pretty weird, since our area is about 50% minority--Asian, African-American, and Hispanic (mostly African-American, though).

A neighbor we met at the holiday BBQ we went to (two doors down from our house), who happens to be black, toured the pool. He said he felt like he was actively discouraged from joining (they told him it was the most expensive pool, that the hours weren't great, and a bunch of other stuff that wasn't true), whereas I had no trouble joining (either did the neighbor that was hosting the BBQ--Laurie--who is also Caucasian like me).

And even worse, while he and his wife and son went to the pool as guests, his wife (who happens to be white as well) overheard someone at the pool talking about her husband and son and mentioned that "they do lynchings on Sundays."

I know. It's fucking awful.

So what do we do? As Laurie (the neighbor who hosted the BBQ--confused yet?) said, she sees just a few choices:

• Complain to management
• File a grievance somewhere
• Go to the news/media
• Take our money back and go somewhere else

What do you think we should do? Charlie thinks if we just quit the pool and don't challenge them, it will never get better. But I don't want to have anything to do with a racist organization. AT ALL.

I'm really confused about what the next right step is. Advice? What would you do?

Happy Memorial Day! (and this time I kept it short)

Just When I Thought I Knew It All About Food and Dieting...

So we're heading into week three of my cooking almost all of our meals using organic foods primarily from the little shop in our neighborhood that carries locally grown meats, poultry, milk, and eggs.

It's been going very, very well. I find each day I enjoy the cooking a little bit more. I love baking (so far I've made squash bread, carrot bread, banana bread, and low fat brownies), I love finding recipes and making new things (a funky pork recipe that was better suited for winter, some homemade pizzas, the best chicken salad I've ever had). It's been awesome.

But the strangest thing has happened.

You may remember a couple years ago that I was seeing an awesome therapist (who I miss all the time) after I lost the boys. She was the perfect therapist for me; a grief counselor that also specialized in eating disorders. We talked quite often about the way I used food to comfort myself, and not just after losing Nicholas and Zachary, but my whole life. She suggested that I substitute something else for the food; wrapping myself in a warm, fuzzy blanket, doing my nails--anything that was nurturing and self-caring but NOT food.

It never worked. Nothing has ever soothed and comforted me in the way that food does. Not doing my nails (although that does distract me, while I do them), warm blankets (always too covered in pet hair in this house), not getting a massage (too much body shame to really enjoy them), nothing. The only things that ever came close were alcohol and drugs (and we all know how THAT turned out for me).

But guess what? Cooking for myself--with healthy foods--IS WORKING. I feel great! I feel taken care of! I feel comforted and consoled each time I sit down to eat a plate of warm freshly made food. It's the strangest thing.

The other day we stopped for lunch at a fast food place and I ended up getting the healthiest meal I could there (chicken nuggets and a salad). But not because I thought I should, but because I wanted it. I considered getting french fries, but I realized that they would not be anywhere near as good as the french fries I'd hand cut and baked for myself the night before.

Let me say that again: I decided against eating french fries at a fast food restaurant because they wouldn't be as good as the healthy ones I'd made myself the night before.

For the first time in over twenty five years of off-and-on-again dieting, I turned down greasy fast food not because I didn't have the points, or because they had too many calories, but because I didn't fucking WANT them.

The reason this is so significant is because what happened there is the opposite of deprivation. Most of the time I choose to not eat something it's awful. I feel this little window inside me slam closed each time I say no. When I really get into the swing of things, this slamming shut feeling is part of the high of dieting. I get hooked on making myself suffer, on forcing myself to not eat the things I want. But eventually, inevitably, I can't do it anymore. I let myself have the fries, the ice cream, the slice of birthday cake and then suddenly, I can't slam it closed anymore. It becomes impossible. Once I slip up and eat something I love, I have to start at the beginning again. Each and every time.

This, however, feels wonderful. Each time I eat something now, I get that warm glowing feeling I used to only get from binging or eating a lot of sugar. I haven't been perfect--far from it--in the last two weeks (there were a couple of baked Cheeto incidents), but I've been feeling great, and happy, and relaxed about food.

I'm not eating low fat or low calorie, particularly, either. Today, for instance, we had eggs with cheese and spinach, some baked home fries, sausage, and a slice of cranberry-pumpkin bread toast for breakfast (no, I did NOT make that). But the eggs were organic, the spinach fresh and grown locally (the cheese was actually 2%, though--all I had left), the potatoes organic and also grown locally, and the sausage from free-range, no antibiotics, and no hormones meat. It was delicious.

Remarkably, I've actually lost a bit of weight. Once I'd stopped counting points, I'd gained back a few pounds that are now gone again. I'm trying to keep portions reasonable (easy to do on a budget), which helps. Charlie is finding himself eating about ten times more vegetables than he used to, and about ten times less salt (he ate a lot of frozen dinners before). He hopes to lose a little weight too.

Combine all of this with my daily walks (I've been putting Tori in the backpack and walking around the neighborhood for an hour or so with her and the dog most mornings), and being home instead of going to work every day, and I'm feeling pretty fucking awesome.

It's really amazing.

Now, if I could just start getting some sleep...

Tori continues to be both teething and going through a developmental spurt so she's been up a lot lately. Add in my low-level anxiety about not having a job anymore and suddenly I'm having a difficult time getting enough sleep at night. I'm managing about six hours or so most nights (except Wednesday night--the season finale of LOST really, really disturbed me and kept me up for hours), but it's not enough. I really need eight or nine hours.

Ah well. It's never perfect, is it?

I apologize once again for the infrequent posting. These days if I'm at the computer I'm working. It will all balance out eventually. Right?

I hope you all have a great holiday weekend. We're joining the swim club, and hitting a neighborhood BBQ. Making getting a little hiking in. What are you doing?

The Very Late and Probably Too Long Video Post

Now, with google video. Let me know if it works better than Youtube.

:)

Migraines, Menstruation, and Muppets, OH MY!

For the first time since September 17, 2005, Aunt Flo's in town. My little friend is visiting (every time I hear someone call their period "my little friend" I can't help but get this crazy vision of a woman whipping out a bloody tampon and pointing it at me and yelling, "Shay hellooo to my leetle friend!" I don't know why). Enough euphemisms--my period started, OK?

And guess what? It still SUCKS. It's funny how even now, after Tori, after everything, I still get this feeling of grief every time I spy blood on the toilet paper. I'm not surprised it started again; after all, it's now been over two weeks since I started decreasing the number of times I pumped a day, and over a week since I stopped altogether. And while Tori is still nursing quite a bit, there must be a lot less milk being produced. So the hormonal signals must have been sent to re-start the ol' uterus and ovaries back up.

If I'd known that, I would have totally kept pumping.

It's funny how absurd menstruating seems after you haven't done it in a while. Almost as absurd as the products around it; I went hunting for tampons on Friday and when I found one I looked at it for a moment and thought, "I'm supposed to put what up my what for what?" It just seems so silly to put a tiny absorbent dildo up my vagina to collect the shed lining of my uterus. Of course, using a pad seems silly too, like I'm joining Tori in the diaper brigade. All options are bizarre.

Weird, weird, weird.

But it does explain a lot. I've had, over the last couple of weeks, way more migraines than is fair. Since mine are often hormonal, that makes sense now. I had a rotten one on Friday afternoon. Not fun at all. In fact, my head kind of hurts now. Damn it all. Not to mention the moodiness, the crankiness, the insomnia. All typical, for me, of getting my period.

The insomnia has been particularly awful. For almost two weeks now I haven't gotten more than four hours of sleep (except last night, thank god). It doesn't help that Tori has developed an innate ability to tell exactly what moment I'm beginning to drift off to sleep; she always chooses that moment to wake up and start crying to nurse. It' s uncanny, really.

I should wrap this up because I'm headed off to a friend's baby shower today. We picked up her present the other day at Giant Baby Store and, naturally, had to also get a gift for Tori. We chose a book with a little puppet of Elmo attached to it, and Tori finally said (for sure) her first intentional word. We held the book up to see if she liked it and she said, I shit you not, "mmmelmoo!" Charlie and I both looked at each other, shocked, and hid it for a second (which made her cry, of course) and then pulled it back out and she said it again.

Yikes. I guess she really is absorbing more television than I realized.

I'll leave you with this hilarious video that Charlie's high school buddy Andrew sent me. Enjoy, and have a great weekend. I'll do a video post tomorrow with Tori!

Another One of Those Annoying List Posts I Do

Tip For The Day

If your baby suddenly decides that she can pull herself up in her crib, do NOT wait until 8:30pm that night to adjust the crib so that she won't fall ass-over-teakettle the next morning. If you do, you will end up doing the following:

• Cursing the bastard that invented Allen screws and wrenches: for the LOVE OF GOD, what the fuck is wrong with a Phillips head screw?
• Drop the metal "box spring" in the crib on your foot--twice
• Seriously consider filing divorce papers halfway through the process
• Try to find a way to turn a stupid fucking Allen bolt while the baby claws desperately at your chest attempting to nurse
• Decide that since you are having SO MUCH FUN fixing the crib, you want to set it on the lowest setting so you never have to do it again, only to realize that you can't because that is the "toddler bed" setting and it won't work, so you have to start over
• Actually threaten divorce if your husband tries to take the Allen's wrench away from you AGAIN
• Finally, after an hour, console the sobbing baby and nurse your injured foot (maybe that's console the foot and nurse the baby), but breathe a sigh of relief that the baby won't be taking a header out of the crib in the morning.

Apology of the Day

I know, you are all thinking, why isn't she posting? After all, she quit her fucking job and is home so WHY ISN'T SHE POSTING???

I'm sorry. I have the bends, I think. I can't seem to sleep much, Tori is up constantly, and I'm barely holding my brain in my head with both hands. I will be better about posting, I promise.

Cool Thing Tragedy of the Day

While I'm quite sure that he has family that are in mourning (and my black, black heart goes out to them), I can't get myself to do much more than chortle over Jerry Falwell's death. I know, I'm a total fucking asshole, but this guy really hated women in a serious way, and I frankly, won't miss him a bit. In fact, I think tomorrow the sun will shine just a touch brighter without his hatred eclipsing it. Right now, I hope God is giving Jerry shit about some of the things he said in God's name. My favorite? I once saw him say that evolution is like "tossing a bunch of metal up in the air and having it come down a watch." I'm thinking God is saying to Jerry about now: "Dude, you don't think I can turn a bunch of metal into a watch? Have you so little faith?"

Business Thingy of the Day

I'm sure you've seen this at other blogs already, but it's survey time! Please take my Blog Reader Project survey. Now that I'm self-employed, that ad revenue (you know, I think I've earned $25 or so in the last year!) will keep me in, I don't know, toilet paper.

Cool Link of the Day

I recently discovered a cool site for parents called Dancing Meatballs. They sift through all of the events in my area and pick out one cool thing to do a day. It's pretty awesome, and I would say that even if they weren't considering using me as a writer. They hope to also provide this service for other cities too--contact them if you are interested!

Last but not least: Food Update

Thanks for all the great recipes and encouragement about my attempts to eat more locally grown foods, and more healthy and organic foods. I thought I'd have to search high and low to find a CSA to join in my area, but my friend Molly (who really should have a blog already, damn it) told me about Farm Fresh Express, a little company committed to bringing healthy, locally produced food a whopping THREE BLOCKS FROM MY HOUSE.

I popped on over there Saturday morning and spent a mere $40 on the following: fresh salad greens, a sweet potato, some tomatoes, a summer squash, a lemon, pork chops, chicken breasts, organic milk, and breakfast sausage. The sausage impressed me the most; it has FIVE ingredients. And is super yummy.

I also hit this place to round out the menu, and so far this week I've made this (which both Tori and Charlie love--poor Charlie thought it was apple bread until I corrected him), this (without nuts or celery), blueberry pancakes (whichTori loved), a chicken stir-fry, and these to go with (purchased, pre-made) crab cakes tonight (and they took 20 minutes to make). Tomorrow night? These.

Pretty good for a woman who has cooked five times in the last five years, eh?

Along these lines, I'm totally fascinated by this blog. She's trying to eat organic on a food stamp budget. It's fascinating. Thanks to Yatima for the link!

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How's your week going?

It's That Day Again

I considered remaining silent today. I mean, if you are still on the road to starting a family (that cursed, bumpy, pot-hole ridden road of broken dreams and rotten sperm and smooshed ovaries), you don't want to think about today at all.

I didn't even realize I still had some bitterness about it until a friend said, "Oh, it's your first Mother's Day this year!" And I responded, wryly, "Yes, with a living baby."

Not nice. But, god, so true.

So if you are still in the trenches (ok, I'm mixing my metaphors--it's my blog, I get to do what I want), my heart goes out to you and remembers, oh so fucking well, what it was like.

But if you aren't, I have to say, well--it feels pretty damn nice. This morning (a beautiful, sunny morning after a storm) I got up and made blueberry pancakes and fresh-organic-from-a-local-farm sausage for my family. Soon I'll be getting ready to go to church, and putting Tori in some ridiculously splendid outfit.

I don't know when I became this person, but man, I love being her.

So, to all of you, try to have a happy day. Regardless of your 'status.' I know I will.

It's official!

I'm officially un self-employed. After 25 years of having a regular job (yes, really!)...

Food, Glorious Food

I've been thinking about food a lot of late. This isn't news--I'm a food addict, after all--but I've been thinking about it differently because of my being home and able to cook more shortly (two.more.days).

For the last five years, I've been working from 11am to 7pm. That means I get home late, tired, and hungry. Charlie usually likes to eat earlier than when I get home, so it's been years, literally, since we routinely ate dinner together.

During that time, the only time I've cooked, in all honesty, is Christmas Dinner. I mean, I've thrown the occasionally pizza in the oven, or the frozen bag in the skillet, but I've done little in the way of cooking for years now (except for camping--I always cook great food while camping. On the fire, no less).

But the truth is, I actually like to cook. I really do. I also like it when I eat in a healthy way. I feel better and brighter and sleep better if I'm eating healthy whole food.

About ten years ago, one of these opened in our neighborhood. For about a year, we did ALL of our shopping there. It was glorious. Well, for me it was; Charlie kinda hated it; thought it was too expensive, and too snooty. But god, I just loved it. I loved the sensory experience of walking in to the store with the flowers and fruit, and the clean non-smelly fish counter, and the great non-hormonal meat. It was wonderful.

At the time I was hanging out a lot with a very cool woman who was macrobiotic (don't hate her--she's just naturally that damned skinny). She gave me a lot of recipes and kind of changed a lot of my attitudes about foods. She encouraged me to expand my tastes, and I found myself making miso soup and eating brown rice and butternut squash. I even rolled my own sushi for a while (although I was never brave enough to do it with fish; I just used vegetables).

I was also at the time on a very rigid diet plan that excluded all sugar and white flour. I felt great. I got--for me--pretty skinny. It was awesome.

But, as with all things, it passed. I found the food plan to be too restrictive and began eating sugar and flour again. I gained the weight back. I got a job that kept me much, much busier and found myself making a lot of frozen microwave meals. And then Charlie and I stopped eating together, and there was no point in cooking for just one person, so everything I was eating was prepared.

Later I got into Weight Watchers and found a huge amount of support on their message boards, but the emphasis there, I'd found, is all about getting as much food out of your points as you can. So I would cut all kinds of corners to just get more food. Lots and lots of sugar-free and fat-free products. I lost weight, and was exercising more, but I didn't feel that inherent sense of wellness that came from eating lots of organic foods.

I miss that.

Now that I'm down to my last two days of work, I'm thinking about how much fun it will be to cook for my family. How much I'll enjoy shopping and making meal plans (no, really!) and getting vegetables into all of our bodies.

While I was driving to work this morning, my local NPR station did a fascinating show about Community Supported Agriculture. It really opened my eyes. I'm not unfamiliar with the concept, but I've never really spent much time thinking about how the strawberries I enjoy in January have impacted the world farming community. Trust me when I tell you it's not good. And did you know that you have to don the equivalent of a haz-mat suit to see most dairy cattle because they have no immune system? That's got to be fucking us up somehow.

I've considered (in passing) signing up with a local organic farm before, but this show happened to be broadcast right at a time that I'm ready to hear it. My little borough is supposedly going to have a farmer's market happening soon, and I am going to be a customer. I will probably keep shopping at my local store for some things, but I'm ready to change my ways. I'm really excited about it.

I've always been a more environmentally-conscious consumer in my head than in my actions. I'm ready to change that now; I want to eat healthy, locally grown organic produce and meat, and I want to be healthy. I'm not sure I'll end up back at Weight Watchers or not; I might just give healthy living a try first (not that you can't gain weight eating healthy food--trust me, I've done it). And maybe if I make pancakes with fruit in them, Tori (the baby who no longer wants to sleep) will get some fruit in her diet. Sigh.

If you have good easy recipes you'd like to share, that would be AWESOME. Especially ones that will help my "I only like grilled chicken sandwiches" husband adjust.......