Naivete

I was very, very naive when I was younger. In some ways, I still am. But when I first entered college I was really, really naive. I knew there were things like homelessness, prostitution and things along those lines - but I didn't KNOW. They all seemed so far away, abstract ideas instead of reality. When I first started college in Boston I can't even tell you how much money I gave away. I felt AWFUL seeing people who were homeless. People who looked desperate and hungry and were standing in horrible weather like rain and snow. It broke my heart. I also really didn't get the idea that things were not always what they seem. I still kind of have trouble with that idea, but I've gotten better. An example? When I was nineteen I thought about modeling. Now, I never really thought I was beautiful, but I thought I was pretty and I had a boyfriend at the time who thought I could make it as one. Not a supermodel mind you, but things like catalogue work. I went to an agency and they told me to come back when I lost twenty pounds (I never went back!) and I remember reading an ad asking for "lingerie models". Now at nineteen I was naive enough to think that it would be just modeling. The store was located in Revere, and apparently if you spent enough money on lingerie, one of the models would model your purchase for you. I remember being slightly confused by this because I couldn't imagine spending money at the store and wanting a girl to model my purchases. It just didn't add up and I couldn't wrap my brain around it. So I figured that the people who wanted this service were looking for kind of fit models. To see how things would fit if they saw it on a similar girl. That there might be some "hanky panky" involved, never occured to me. I actually called the place and told the guy on the phone my measurements (approximate, because I really had no idea) and he wanted me to come in for an interview. I was to bring lingerie. And no, this did not raise any red flags for me. I thought it made sense and I was more comfortable with bringing my own stuff. Before I went though, I proudly told my boyfriend at the time about my interview. To say that he "flipped out" would be a huge understatement. He freaked on me. Told me that it was pretty much prostitution and that the whole thing was NOT GOOD. I never went on the interview.

What brought this up? I was driving to Revere today and actually SAW THE STORE! I saw the store in a shady little area of Revere with neon lights around the window and all sorts of, well, not really NICE lingerie displayed. I got to thinking, what if I had gone on the interview? What if I, horrors, had TAKEN THE JOB?? How would my life be now? How would it be different? On one hand, being sheltered protects you. You don't expect things like that. But on the other hand, it can be bad because you don't expect things like that. You're not prepared when confronted with perhaps the not so nice areas of life. I'm just grateful for all the things I've gone through in life and how I am today!

State of Mind

I haven't been feeling like myself lately. I've been wearing a lot of yoga pants and not really taking the time to do my make-up and the such. So last week I got my hair trimmed and I purchased some new make-up for myself. Which btw, why is it I can spend $50 at Sephora and walk out with only two tiny items?? Just wondering. It doesn't stop me from going there, but it blows my mind each time. I got some new bronzer, some highlighter for around my eyes, and some lovely samples. One of the samples is a radiance serum I've been using at night, and also a kind of primer for before my bronzer. It's silly, but just getting these products and using them on a regular basis has made me feel better about myself. I've started "doing my face" each morning and it's definitey helping my self-esteem.

I wonder why it is that doing something so seemingly small would help so much. I guess it all comes down to taking the time for yourself, making yourself a priority. I also want to work on getting rid of this baby weight and I was checking out this website:
http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml

Now I am NOT a runner. In fact, I loathe most forms of exercise. I tend to be someone who starts out strong and then kind of lets it all go. But I'm getting older. I'm turning 36 and I have a child. I need to start treating myself a little better, and getting healthy. I want to model a good lifestyle for Nathan and I want him to be physically active as well. The first week looks doable.. working out 3 times a week for 20 minutes. That's not a lot. I'm going to give it a go and see what happens.

Hopefully these small things - taking better care of myself, making time to work out and put on make-up and treat myself well will help my rather sad and cranky state of mind! Fingers crossed!

EWWWWWW Moment

Dear Lord, I feel dirty just reading this ad. If you can't read it, it says "It's nice to have a girl around the house". And the man is STANDING ON A GIRLS HEAD. Yes people, he is STANDING ON HER HEAD which appears to be ATTACHED TO A TIGER SKIN RUG. It's Tiger with Girl Head Rug and it's an advertisement for PANTS. PANTS people. Do I need to ad it's for MAN PANTS??? No, I don't think I do. I cannot believe, nay, I REFUSE to believe that this was real. Sadly, it was.

Attempts to Eat at Restaurant

Nathan used to be a joy at a restaurant. As a little baby he would just gaze around at everyone and hang out. Even a month ago he would sit in his highchair and eat his stars and play with his rattle or his book "Pat the Bunny". We would feed him some bits from our plate and he would laugh and be soooo good. Everyone would remark on it. Now though, he's a complete bear. For example, today Jeff and I went to Faneuil Hall to pick up Jeff's debit card (he'd accidentally left it at the bar the night before when singing karaoke). We'd decided to make a day of it and we went to the Hard Rock Cafe because it was air conditioned for lunch. We'd made sure that Nathan had had lunch before we left (little bits of cheese, some fruit, and some chicken) and we brought a bottle and his stars with us to help keep him entertained. Well, Nathan was NOT having it. He squirmed and fussed. He threw himself backwards and let out screech after screech.

Suddenly Jeff and I were "THOSE PEOPLE". You know, the people in a restaurant with their holy terror children who were ruining the lunch experience of everyone around them. The people were you turn to your eating companion and make a snarky remark about how their child is a poster child for birth control. It was GREAT! Jeff and I took turns trying to entertain him while we waited for our lunch. Really we waited MAYBE 10-15 minutes, but it felt like an ETERNITY. We gave him a bottle. We gave him his stars. We attempted to read his book to him. We played with his rattle and butterfly toy. One by one everything was pushed away with a disgusted face by Nathan and thrown on the floor. When our food arrived we SHOVED the food in, barely tasting it as we continued to try and entertain Nathan. At one point I walked around the restaurant with Nathan and pointed out the different items in the gift shop. I made a special point of showing him the stuffed teddy bears and asked why he was being such a bear himself. His response of "Yeah" was not a satisfactory answer.

Basically what would have been a nice,leisurely, and fun lunch for Jeff and I was turned into a fast food experience as we crammed food into our mouths and walked around with Nathan in turns. No talking with each other. No laughing. It was all Nathan, all the time. So Nathan and restaurants lately are not good times. Three times now I've had to pick him up and either take him out of the restaurant all together due to some sort of tantrum, or we've eaten so fast that we barely tasted our food.

I really hope this is a phase because for now we will not be going back to any restaurants with Nathan anytime soon!

laughing my ass off

If you haven't read this yet, oh my God please go to the following link:
http://www.familybiking.com.tw/lost_cat.html

Apparently it's a true story and I was dying laughing because even I, with my limited knowledge of computers, could do what this woman was asking and why she felt the need to hit up her graphic design department for this I'll never know.

Birth Story

Nathan's first birthday was this past Saturday. June 26th to be exact. I've seen on other blogs people writing about birth stories and since I'm feeling all amazingly sentimental I thought I would write a little bit about my own.

First things first, I went to the hospital, three, count em', three times with false labor. What nobody tells you is that "false labor" IS labor, they just don't want the baby to come yet. Each time I was sent home. I can't tell you how awful that was. Going in, excited and panic-struck that TODAY you would have your baby. And to be sent home with NO BABY. It was awful. The fourth time I was only a day before my due date and I went to see my doctor who told me I was to go to the hospital IMMEDIATELY since I was having contractions. I didn't believe him and we went home, took care of Monty, packed a bag and leisurely went to the Labor and Delivery unit. We get there and I go through the sadly, very familiar routine of being hooked up to the monitors and getting the johnny on and lying back and thinking, whatever. I'm just going to be sent home again. See, the pain was not really pain at this point. My water had not broken and it was just mildly uncomfortable. This went on for oh... twenty hours. At one point the nurse offered to give me a mild sedative so I could sleep for a bit (around midnight if I remember correctly) and I said BRING IT ON. I dozed off and on for the rest of the night. Jeff was there the entire time and only left to take Monty out and feed him. I remember thinking at one point "This isn't that bad. On TV they show women screaming and cursing and really this isn't bad at all". In the early morning hours they started me on pitocin to help speed up the contractions. And they broke my water.

That's when the pain started. They broke my water and oh my goodness. I can't even describe the horrible, horrible pain. I didn't scream, I didn't yell. I whimpered a lot. And told Jeff "I don't think I can do this" and whimpered some more. And told Jeff that I didn't WANT to do this anymore and that I changed my mind. Jeff very helpfully told me it was too late for that. To which I whimpered some more. I had signed up for an epidural and when they finally paged the doctor, it would take thirty minutes for him to get there. I remember crying. Because thirty minutes seemed like an ETERNITY and I didn't see how I could possibly wait thirty minutes. I felt like there was no rest, no time, it was just constant pain. The contractions all melted together into one big cycle of agony and I think my only thought was "GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME" even as I sobbed. I know some women have beautiful thoughts of meeting their baby during this time period, but I wasn't one of them. I wasn't howling at the moon, but I was so focused on the pain I really couldn't think of anything else. I got the epidural, and honestly, it kind of numbed the pain. I guess I thought the epidural would take away ALL THE PAIN, and it really didn't. And pushing started. I was so lucky that it was MY doctor who was there for the delivery. My OB is wonderful and fabulous and I was insanely lucky he was on duty that day. I pushed and pushed and rested and pushed and I felt like I was in some sort of weird "Whack a Mole" game. I'd hear "There's the head... and he's gone". I'd push again, same thing. I distinctly remember my doctor saying "this isn't working" and I felt some pressure and pushed again. A few minutes later Nathan was born.

Out Nathan came all slippery and they lay him on my chest. I remember being stunned as I looked at him. Tears came, and I was just stunned. I couldn't say anything, I couldn't move. There was a baby on my chest and my heart felt like it was going to explode. A second later they picked him up and weighed him and started to clean him up and already my gaze focused on him like a laser. Where was my baby? I barely paid attention to anything else because my baby was gone and I wanted him back. He was so little and precious and I was still stunned. I couldn't find the words to describe the feeling. It was sheer terror that I had this beautiful baby and was now expected to keep him alive and well fed and loved and all of that, and it was a sure certainty that I would kill anyone who hurt him. It was like a narrowing of your world until the only thing left in my vision was Nathan.

A year and a few days later I still feel afraid that I am not the best mommy I could be. I still doubt myself. I am more confident with him and getting him to laugh, hearing him say "yeah" is the best feeling in the world. He is 23 pounds and 30.5 inches. He is MY baby and he is wonderful and perfect and amazing and I cannot imagine my life without him. Happy Birthday Nathan!

Seriously Moment

Jeff actually asked me this. Tonight. While we were EATING DINNER!

Jeff: "Is Nathan still alive?"

I stared at him in shock. ALIVE?? Is NATHAN STILL ALIVE??

Jeff: "Are you actually going upstairs and checking on him"?

Why yes, yes I AM now RUNNING up the stairs to indeed make sure that NATHAN IS STILL ALIVE! Holy crap! We laughed about it because, yes, it was silly. No, he didn't mean to ask that, it was apparently a "slip of the tongue" according to Jeff - which by the way, he said "slip of the tongue" and I erupted into hysterical giggles that could not stop even after Jeff told me he was "done with me" and I was to "not talk to him for the rest of the night".

But yes, Nathan is still alive. Thanks for asking!