Mary Poppins, incarnate

The nanny started today.



Oh, it was amazing. The children were well-cared for - fed, bathed, entertained - and aside from acquainting her with how we do things, I was able to work without interruption.

Frankly, I had forgotten what that was like.

And, the kitchen is cleaner now than it was this morning. It's like a dream. A wonderful, happy dream where I can get my work done and not irreparably damage my relationship with my childcare-providing family members in the process.

Maybe one of these days I'll get to exercise, too. I believe in miracles now, it could actually happen!

Curse you, Etsy, and your unrealistic expectations

Oh, for serious. Etsy is advocating this:

365 Projects: Creating Every Day for a Year

How lovely! You think. What fun! I've got at least that many things in my "Crafts for the Kids" folders on Pinterest, that should be no problem!

Except for this:

I ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH TO DO.

Between working full-time, trying to be a halfway decent wife and daughter, keeping my kids and cats alive and somewhat clean and reasonably well-fed, and being in contact enough so my friends don't think I fell into the ocean, who the f&$% has time for this? Not me, not my friends. I have to completely outsource cleaning the house, how on earth could I take on a three-hour project every fracking evening?

Sure, it's a fabulous idea! I would LOVE to indulge that. I have no aversion to crafts -- in fact, I'm always working on a knitting project or two, and I'd love to do more. And I fully admit to purchasing the tools to put together the awesome "tooth fairy door" as seen on my Pinterest account. But to complete one thing a day? Fully complete it? Geez. Shoot for the moon, why don't you.

I ALSO HAVE ENOUGH TO FEEL GUILTY ABOUT NOT DOING. I'm not as patient as I could/should be, I don't spend enough time hanging out with my children, my clothes aren't neatly put away, I rarely remove the hairball on the shower floor, I didn't bake Christmas cookies this year, I don't exercise enough...I don't need to add to that, "feeling guilty for not 'creating' enough".

Blurgh.

Luckily, little Cinderella has no loose teeth yet - this is going to take me at least four months to finish.

Source: shesmakingcards.blogspot.com via Bethany on Pinterest

Epiphany

I had an epiphany last night. It has really been a long time coming.


I finally figured out what religion I am.


I had been a Congregationalist my whole life, had been very involved with church up until I was about 26 or so. I married an atheist, but he has always been willing to go to church with me. But for some reason, for the past ten years or so, I couldn't really bring myself to go (other than the occasional Christmas and baptizing my oldest daughter in our family's church in Pittsburgh).


And yes, I heard all about that from my family, and how it was disappointing to them that I wasn't going myself or bringing my child to church (or saying grace enough at meals). They tended to combat that with ninja-style commando religion lessons while visiting our home when my husband and I were conveniently occupied elsewhere. Which wasn't so much of a problem until little Cinderella wanted us to pray at every meal and kept talking about how "Jesus is the King." That really made me uncomfortable -- I don't think "uncomfortable" even begins to describe how my husband felt about it.


So I've been trying over the past few months to really put my finger on what I believe. I've been meaning to for such a long time - I miss being part of a church, but there was something keeping me from going, more than just wanting to sleep in on Sundays. And now, living in New England, it's a veritable smorgasbord of Congregational churches, so that's not an excuse either. Now that we have a four-month-old, her baptism is something that's on everyone's (especially my family's) minds.


My husband engaged in some Socratic method with me about my belief system (hey, sometimes it helps to have married a philosophy major), and between that and a visit to a Unitarian service, I have finally crystallized my beliefs.


Jesus is/was the sticking point for me. I don't believe he was the Son of God, so given that, most Christian denominations are really out. And you know what? That's ok. Turns out, there's a whole denomination out there that is okay with that, that celebrates the man and the philosopher and the person who could have been divinely inspired, but not necessarily "divine" himself. Who knew? (Ok, a lot of people. But I didn't.)


I've found that I am a Unitarian Universalist. It fits me. I love the fact that one of its guiding principles is "a free and responsible search for truth and meaning"...not Truth-with-a-capital-T. I love that it strives for social justice and believes in "the inherent worth and dignity of every person." I love that there's room for what I believe and what my husband believes, and that nobody will insert the line "I accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior" into my daughter's baptism (dedication?) even when they promised my husband that he wouldn't have to attest to that, out loud, in front of an entire congregation (that was so not cool). I also love that this church we found has been around for hundreds of years, so I still have the feeling of belonging to history and tradition and a group that is bigger than just myself and what surrounds me now.

(And while I know many Christians who don't frequently profess their faith via social media, I also love that UUs don't cram their beliefs down anyone's throat, or post something laudatory about Jesus on Facebook and taunt "I'm sure 99% of you don't have the guts to repost this." Actually, I don't repost it because I don't AGREE with you -- but that's neither here nor there.)


It feels really good to have that sorted out.

Instructions for Myself, at 66

As I start back to work, before getting our full-time child care arranged we are lucky to have both grandmothers volunteering for two weeks each to watch the kids. I am so appreciative of their generosity...but this phenomenon sparked a discussion with my husband about what we would like to remind ourselves of when OUR children are grown and we want to help them out. Note: these items did not necessarily originate from our own personal experiences (although some did); they are taken from ours and our dear friends and, well, common sense.

1. Offer help. Even though they're grown, sometimes your kids need your help. Ask. Maybe it's money, maybe it's your time, maybe it's just a cheerleader...but just because they're 30, doesn't mean they don't need some assistance sometimes.
2. Your grown-up children will simply not be able to spend every holiday with you. Be reasonable. Ask for  Christmas once every few years, and you'll probably get it.
3. Travel to see them. They don't have the money or the vacation time, and expecting them to haul themselves, their spouse, their kids, and all of the assorted paraphernalia halfway across the country just to see you in your home is expensive and exhausting. Buy a plane ticket, pack a carry-on bag with some comfy clothes and crafts to keep the kids busy and go to them. And no, they will not/cannot move back to your hometown, so please don't keep suggesting that.
4. Be helpful, in whatever ways they say are helpful to them - not what you think you need to do to be helpful. They may not need you to do 27 loads of laundry for them or reorganize their closet, but they may need you to just sit and feed and hold the baby for a while they do laundry and catch up with their best friend on the phone, or take a nap, or get their hair cut for the first time in five months. Whatever they need.
5. They are now parents, and you need to respect that. They are always your children, but now they're parents themselves -- don't say things to them that you wouldn't say to another adult parent that you happen to know. RESPECT that. And those grandchildren of yours? They are not your kids. It would be lovely if you would help their parents raise them in the way their parents see fit. It is not okay to undermine the parents because "you know best." Again, would you do this to some other random parent? Probably (hopefully) not...so don't do it to your kids.

Oh, there are plenty additional list items that get into many more technical details...but these are the basics. I really hope I don't get all defensive when I read this thirty years from now...I will have no one to be angry at but myself.

Missing DC/Getting My Wonk On

The State of the Union makes me miss Washington, D.C., like no other event. It reminds me of two very different times in my life there that are now pretty far away, both in time and mileage.

Most importantly, it makes me think about when I was working on the Hill and how awesomely politically nerdy everyone was. Sure, we liked to eat and drink at the various Happy Hours sponsored by random associations (the good people who make candy wrappers) and countries (this one had the best food, EVER, hands down) -- and we had to, because free food and alcohol were imperative when you are making $20K a year, living in the sixth most expensive city in the US, and having to wear suits and other dry-clean-only apparel every day -- but for events like the SOTU, we would all gather at a local dive bar and drink heavily and applaud and yell and talk back to the television and each other. Sure, there were arguments between staffers with radically opposing viewpoints -- you know, like the one who worked for Thurmond never agreed with the one who worked for Kohl -- but it was all in good fun. Somehow I don't think people are quite as congenial there these days -- their bosses certainly aren't. But, we got our wonk on and had a blast doing it.

Living in DC again with my husband after law and graduate school was a completely different experience. But we did live on the Hill and I once again got to go to the Hawk 'N' Dove to watch the SOTU. This time I was an adult, and while it was nowhere near as fun as when I was 22 (sorry, honey!) it was a sweet time before having kids, in a city with great mass transit and where we could walk 10 minutes to get to just about everything we needed, and it was just the two of us having great discussions about politics and everything else. Granted, there was more yelling at the tv because Bush was president, as opposed to Clinton, but it was still a great time.

I feel like the SOTU starts the new year off officially, and I like to look around and think about the state of MY union -- my life, my career, my kids, my big stack of not-yet-started knitting projects -- and maybe make some plans and imagine where I want things to be a year from now and how I'm going to get there. Hopefully, we can kind of just get on with the living part of life, now that the moving and new baby and new school and deaths in the family and everything has all settled down into "normal." But this normal is miles and what feels like lifetimes away from the lives I had in DC...and that's okay.

But on a Tuesday night in late January every year, I remember that I once walked arm-in-arm with an elderly Strom Thurmond around the basement of the Dirksen building and that he said I was a "pretty girl...a pretty, pretty girl." Sure, he was a huge racist, but I'll take the compliment just the same.

All at Once

The first day back went fine. I figured it would, but it was nice to not be unpleasantly surprised.

However, I've had a raging headache for the past two days. I thought it was my workstation configuration and/or not wearing my glasses...but it was suggested to me that I should consider the impact of starting Weight Watchers on my first day back at work. Ah yes, the hunger headaches. I haven't allowed myself to be hungry in so long that I've forgotten what they felt like.

Yep, that makes more sense.

And yes, I recognize that starting my weight loss efforts and intensive exercise in earnest on the very day I started back to work after four months off is maybe not the brightest idea. But to me, I'd rather have an awful week and just get it over with.

Feels like I'm well on my way.

Coming to an End

These fabulous days of getting a paycheck without working are coming to a close...as of tomorrow, they will expect me to do stuff in order to get paid. Bummer. As mentioned previously, I had so many hopes of what could get accomplished during this maternity leave. Here's what ACTUALLY happened:

1) Kid 1 is a well-adjusted kindergartner. Check. She's even learning to ice skate. Bonus points for that one.
2) Kid 2 is a happy, healthy, almost four-month-old. Well done, me!
3) I uploaded January's pictures from our camera to the computer...but wait, there's MORE! I then EDITED said pictures and uploaded them to Facebook!! I know, and it's not even February yet!!
4) I'm almost done with someone's Christmas present. A "luscious, cable-knit cowl." Uh huh. Fail. I couldn't even hit Orthodox Christmas, or Chinese New Year. There is no excuse.
5) The house is about 9/10ths moved into. Seeing as that's about 5/8ths farther then we've gotten in any of our other residences, I'm okay with that.

Good enough. Maybe I'll get another maternity leave in a couple of years, so I can try to improve upon my stats. Because 22 years of financial support and a lifetime of worry is a fair trade for 4 months fully paid time off. Oh no, it really is. Believe me.

Manners

As in, mind yours. Why is it that on Facebook (in particular), manners and good judgment sometimes go completely out the window? I mean, it's not like the concept of web anonymity applies here - your name (and picture) is appended to everything you say.

Why do people use such poor judgment about posting on other people's walls, posts, etc.?

Foul language, lewd comments - c'mon. Don't be gross. My PARENTS and IN-LAWS and COWORKERS are on Facebook...why do you think it's okay to say stuff like this, even if it is "in jest"?

Say whatever you want on your on wall, just don't put it on mine. It's rude and disrespectful. Stop it, or I will block you from commenting at all.

Reserve the space for that douchey guy who posts links to articles that he admits he hasn't read, but then literally shames people for not knowing anything about the issue. Of course, that's a whole other blog post...

I don't know how to use HTML to black out this headline

But if I could, I would, in solidarity with wired.com, wikipedia.com, and numerous other sites that are protesting SOPA and PIPA.

Frankly, since very few people actually read this, it would be akin to cutting down a tree in a very isolated forest. So let's all just pretend that I censored the blog today.

The Unintentional Irony of the Washington Post Social Reader

On my Facebook news feed this morning:


[my friends] recently read articles.

 Jay-Z Buys Daughter Blue Ivy a $600K Solid-Gold Rocking Horse 
 Social tensions increasing in US between rich, poor


 16 minutes ago via Washington Post Social Reader

Swedish Design and the Art of Not Lighting Oneself on Fire

As I'm getting ready to set up a home office, I need a desk and a chair. Ones that are comfortable, but I don't want to spend a ton of money. Plus, it has to go up to the third floor, so that's limiting in itself. As a result, we decided to make a trip to Ikea. On a Saturday. Afternoon. On a really nice warm (for winter) sunny day.


Idiots. We are idiots.


I forgot that in exchange for clean Swedish design at affordable prices, you have trade in your sanity.


I also forgot the cardinal rules of Ikea:

1. Go during the week. In the morning. If you must go on the weekend, be there for the opening of the store. Otherwise, it's mayhem. And, you can't leave your kid in Småland for more than 45 minutes on the weekend - it's double that on weekdays. That leaves you trying to harangue a small child from darting away into the merchandise, pulling throw blankets, lapdesks, extension cords, plastic cups, and numerous stuffed animals out of bins and begging, at full volume, with more than a little whine thrown in, to pleasepleaseplease buy this. Much easier to carry around the Cheesecake Factory-style beeper and stroll at your leisure. You can even sit down on an EKTORP TULLSTA and have a nice minute to yourself.
2. Figure out how long you think you will be there, then multiply by 2. If you're there on a weekend, use a multiplier of 3. There's a Madeline L'Engle-worthy wrinkle in time inside that big blue box. Nothing is at it seems.
3. Don't go hungry. Sure, you want to avail yourself of the cheap Swedish meatballs, or promise yourself that there will be a cup of decent coffee and a more than decent cinnamon roll awaiting you after checkout. However, see item 2. You may die before you get there.
4. Recognize that Ikea is the land of slow walkers and Sunday drivers and all of that will conspire to make you want to scream, loudly, for everyone to just get the hell out of your way. But you can't. And you shouldn't. Especially not in front of your five-year-old. (The baby, however, totally won't remember or judge you so feel free.)
5. Make sure there's beer or wine or whatever beverage takes some of the pain away in the fridge at home for afterwards. I don't really need to explain that one.

So now I have a lovely new home office, which will make the return to work much more enjoyable. But it's in pieces. In boxes. Heavy boxes. In the car. In the garage. Three staircases from where it will eventually be built.

Yeah, I'm not going to think about that right now.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I was thinking today about how much celebrating my birthday has changed in the past 10 years. Some things are very different at 36 than 26...I'm sure you would like to know exactly how, in a numbered and bulleted list, so I'll tell you.

1. Sleeping in (especially on my birthday) is key. Today I slept in until 9, which is a deficit of about 4 hours from birthdays in my 20s, but that small amount is even more appreciated now.
2. 10 years ago today we left for our honeymoon. I'm pretty sure I'm not leaving the house at all today, but my husband and daughter are probably going to run out and grab me an US Weekly, so I can take a bath and have some mindless entertainment as an accompaniment.
3. In 2002 my phone was ringing off the hook with birthday greetings. Today, thanks to the magic of cell phones and Facebook I have received about 3 texts and 80 wall posts, and it's been just lovely. Plus, those don't wake the baby.
4. I have kids now. That's just huge. Although I think our cats are actually needier, vomitier, and generally require more energy from us than the human children, and two of those cats were here 10 years ago.
5. When I was 26, I was in between semesters of my third year in law school. Now I'm on maternity leave...so similarly, I don't have to go anywhere, I'm wearing comfy pants and not showering. So on that front, things are pretty much the same.
6. I will be enjoying cake, coffee, and a cocktail - true then, true now.

I'm going to go and watch tv now while I run on the treadmill. Now that I'm this old, I guess it'll have to be reruns of Matlock.

20 days left

I was going to accomplish so many things while on maternity leave. Such as: sort, classify and prettify the past 6 years' worth of digital pictures, make significant progress on the draft of my collaborative witchy-teen novel, exercise almost every day, get the house complete clean and organized, and write a billion baby gift thank you notes. I have 20 days left and I think I really accomplished two things in the past 12 weeks.

1) I kept the baby alive, and
2) I bought a Keurig.

And the Christmas cards, as mentioned in a previous post, I guess those count too...I'll be bragging about that until at least May.

Taking procrastination to a whole new level.

Really? It's been more than two years since I've blogged? Huh. I have excuses for the past three months - move to a new state, new baby, all of that...but the two years prior, well, I was probably just tired.

But now I have a new computer, and that's always inspiring, isn't it? Like a new sheet of paper - fresh, lined, with a perfect pen next to it, full of possibilities - but significantly more expensive.

I did send out Christmas cards this year, for the first time in...well, wait...let me think...ever? I had to make a list from scratch, so yeah, probably ever. They were lovely though.

Time to take a shower...on maternity leave, that really doesn't occur as much as I would like it to, so I will seize my opportunity while I can.

Long Time Gone

First post in over a year...please excuse my indolence. Some of my friends have been blogging up a storm, and it's been so entertaining to read that I just have to get back into it myself. Maybe it's a competitive thing...Anyway, not much new here, still in New York, still working at the massive financial services media conglomerate, still have the beautiful funny daughter and the wonderful husband, and three cats in a space built for two fewer.

There will be more amusing posts than this one, to be sure, but I'll start small tonight. Rome wasn't built in a day and all that...

You're the inspiration...

...Well, The Republican inspired me to blog a little bit...I will happily resume, especially when I know someone is reading. I do have a few questions, though, first. To wit:

1) Who do I know in Plano? Is Verizon routing someone's internet through the southwest, or is someone down there really reading me? If so, who are you? Do I know you? Am I entertaining? Introduce yourself, say hi!

2) Why do people defend being single-issue voters but then bitch about the consequences? I mean, if [abortion] [the environment] [Israel] [low taxes] [universal healthcare] is all you care about, and you vote accordingly, then I don't want to hear you complain about everything else that your chosen candidate does. If that's all you want, that's all you get, and that's your fault for being so narrow. The world is a little bigger than that, in case you haven't noticed.

3) In our lifetime? Apparently so. And I can't wait.

4) Can people be 30+ years old and really be that immature? Really? Huh.

That's it for now...Ella, get your mommy to read this to you.

Ready? Let's Roll Into Something New

You know, every time I'm at the gym, I either hear The Killers on my ipod or I see them on the fancy little tv attached to my treadmill...and it really drives home the fact that I *heart* Brandon Flowers. Sigh. He is so dreamy. SO dreamy. especially in the Mr. Brightside video.

And why am I still awake, watching Bring It On Again? Clearly, my husband is out of town, because there is no way he would stand for this.

China all the way to New York

Day 6 of M's business trip to Hong Kong...but he's coming home any minute! It was just weird to have him be on the other side of the world, literally. Every night when we spoke before I went to bed, he was in the middle of morning meetings. I did continually ask him, "So what does Tuesday look like? Am I going to enjoy it? Did you get the lottery numbers already?" You know, important stuff. I think he's jetlagged beyond words right now, although thankfully he had some pretty awesome business class seats that recline fully flat.

Say my name, say my name...

Apparently, my name is quite confusing to people from other countries. And some Americans even seem to have trouble with it.

Since I started working at the United Nations, I have been called "Befany," "Stephanie," "Beverly" (which was really appalling, because that guy is an American whom I emailed many times and had multiple conversations with, and was formally introduced to - what's it going to take?!), and my personal favorite mistaken name of all time, "Daphne." I'm kind of digging Daphne. Maybe she could be my alter ego? One of the guys I work with says that when things don't get done, we should all just blame it on Beverly. "Wasn't Beverly supposed to do that?" "Is Beverly even IN today?"

To say nothing of the 2 men so far who have referred to me over email as "Mr." Repeatedly.

Daphne is getting a little irritated. As is בֵּית עַנְיָה.

Long Time Gone

I'm going to appropriate the titling procedure of a fabulous acquaintance of mine, whose "savvy mom" blog is captioned with song lyrics...something that my friend Janie and I did a lot of in days past, so I was reminded of how much fun that is.

Anyway, what a long time between posts! Here's what's up - we've landed in New York, living on the Upper East Side. M loves his job, and I was appointed to a position at the United Nations, which (if the first week is any indication) will be a remarkably interesting experience. I guess I just can't get away from civil service...V has a nanny, a wonderful woman from Jamaica who takes great care of her (and yes, we are paying taxes on that).

We've had so many visitors already, at least 5 to my count, plus some that didn't stay with us, and many more to come in the next few weeks. New York is great, I still can't believe that we live here! And luckily, we already have friends here, from law school and high school, which have made the transition that much easier. We enjoyed a wicked game of 500 last night, with lots and lots of Oktoberfest beer and the traditional Pim's with lemonade. Sooooooooo.......that's life in the big city so far...more to come.