Sunday, January 27, 2008

Purple

My husband decided this weekend that we needed to paint my daughter's room. Actually, since babysitting is hard to come by, he decided he needed to paint her room while I kept the kids out of his way.

Ever since we bought the new house, my husband finds little ways to put his his mark on it ("piss all over it" is his more earthy way of putting it....) and I can't blame him. If anyone has been paying any attention to the housing market for the last 5 or so years, then you know how crazy it's been. We waited a long time to buy and now that we're owners, hubby likes to do little things that remind him that we can do whatever we want to the place.

My daughter is 7, so the color choices are generally predictable for a female at that age. She settled on purple. Not lavender. But a fairly jarring shade of purple called "Freesia Purple." It's better than Pepto Bismol pink, right?

I don't really care too much about the color though. My daughter is (luckily) not a hyped-up ADD child that's already bouncing off the walls, so I doubt the color will jazz her up too much.

[total tangent here] My sister-in-law has a kid who is diagnosed ADHD and she painted his room "Cardinal Red." WTF??? You want the kid to be a 24-7 nervous wreck? [tangent over]

But I am surprised at how overall this color situation is making my head spin. This is the first time in my adult life that I have been able to pick colors for my home and I am finding out how style-challenged I am. Back home, when I still lived with my parents, I painted my room a very pale peach color and that was fine. I didn't have to match anything other than my bedroom walls and my comforter--simple. But the whole-house-matching-the-furniture-thing has me totally intimidated.

And I can't really defer to hubby. He thought the purple my daughter picked out was perfectly tasteful.

Scary.

The purple is fine for a 7-year-old girl's room, but I would hyperventilate if it was anywhere else in the house.

I don't live in a brothel.

(Oops! Did I just hint that my daughter's room looks like a brothel? That can't be good.....)

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Morning People

I am not a morning person. I probably never will be, no matter how hard I try.

I've been a runner for almost 8 years. It's the only exercise that seems to reliably keep my weight down, so I keep doing it. I've tried pilates but I just can't get any excitement for yoga. I've been doing martial arts for 15 years, but I don't put it into the exercise category because two days a week just doesn't cut it.

So I run. But the problem is that with two kids and a husband, and all their corresponding schedules, I have a heck of time squeezing my exercise time in. In a strange bit of desperation I've started running in the morning before my husband goes to work. The problem is, my husband leaves for work at 6:30am and that means I have to get up at 5:30am or so.

Ugh.

I'm on my third week of this schedule and I still can't seem to get a clue. If I want (hahahahahahaha) to get up at 5:30, then I should be in bed by 9:30pm to get 8 hours of sleep, right?

Oh, that will so never happen.

I am a night owl in the worst way. During my college years I worked nights and rarely got into bed before midnight-- and that's being very conservative. Usually I was lucky to be off work by midnight. And many a night was spent at the local Denny's eating french fries and chocolate shakes with my co-workers. Maybe if I'd had fewer nights like that I wouldn't need to get up while it's still dark outside....

I've gotten myself into this vicious cycle where I get up and run, stagger home tired and bleary eyed, drink one of those super-duper caffeinated energy drinks to wake-up, get through half the day on a caffeine buzz, crash about mid-day, drink tea to get through the slump and then get my second wind about 7pm which kills any hope of getting into bed before 11pm. The worst part is that my body gives out sometime around Friday afternoon and most of Saturday is spent recovering.

You really would think I would get it together and go to bed. But no, I'm dense. Every night, when the family is in bed and the house is quiet, I say to myself I should go to bed. But then, the quiet of the night lulls me into staying up, just a little longer. I read a little or enjoy having control over the remote and before I know it-- I've cut my sleep by two hours.

Sigh.

There is a bright side though. I don't think I was aware I was awake until after I ran two miles this morning. The third mile was a bitch though.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Can a daughter be too pretty?

You're gonna think I'm just a bragging mom. Maybe I am a little. But I have a seriously gorgeous kid.

See, you think I'm bragging.

But from the time she was an infant I've had people stopping me to comment on how beautiful she is.

You still think I'm just bragging.

I got cornered once in the meat section of the grocery store by four people- who did not know each other- who said they had to come over and look at the gorgeous baby. I am not making this up. I've had a lot of people ask me if she models and even had one woman dig up a magazine to show me a picture of a child who looks amazingly like my kid. I swear she still thinks I'm hiding my child's secret modeling career.

The point of all this is that it's kind of tough to encourage your kid toward a career in medicine while everyone else is saying she ought to model. A couple of weeks ago my husband's family was over at the house and the conversation was something like this.

Great Grandma: Oooooh, look at those long legs, you should be a model dear.

Me: Or a doctor.

Grandma: Oh I know, she could be an actress.

Me: Or a doctor.

Great Grandma: And those eyes, definitely a model.

Me: Or maybe she could GO TO SCHOOL.


*Sigh*

I'm happy my daughter is pretty. Mostly. But I also fear the fact that people (like family) might skew her perception of reality and make her think she doesn't need things like an education. Or a personality.

And don't even get me started on boys.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Ugh!


I hate New Years resolutions. I never make them. Well, mostly. I pretty much resolve to lose weight year round and pretty much gain and lose the same 10 pounds in an endless cycle of self-loathing.

So I threw the scale away. I really did. I just can't live like that anymore; pegging my self-esteem to a number on a scale. I swear, it got so bad that if I weighed myself and I was up 2 pounds I'd be depressed all day.

What kind of life is that I ask you?

I blame my mom. She of the freakishly high metabolism that kept her at about 100lbs her whole adult life and couldn't figure out why I had such a hard time. After all, being skinny is easy, isn't it? I should never have relished in her menopausal weight gain but I did. She stopped griping about my weight for the first time in my life and I got to lecture her about how beneficial a trip to the gym would be. Oh paybacks are a bitch.

I feel like I am in this weird flux state in my life right now. I haven't weighed myself in a couple of months and it's been pretty great. The world didn't end, my clothes still fit and I can make it through the day without a fit of self-loathing. Who knew how liberating ignoring ones weight could be?

Sadly, it does help that my mom is gone (not dead, just out of the country...). I no longer worry about comments about my current hairstyle, clothing or shoes. Yes, I can wear my Croc's without comments about how wide they make my feet look. These are silly little freedoms but you'd be surprised how the little things add up.

I just hope that I have learned something though. I hope I can raise my daughter without so many superficial judgements. I hope I appreciate her for who she is and what she can offer without letting 'appearances sake' get in the way. I've had enough of that for one lifetime.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

My Dog is in Lust With Santa Clause

I almost didn't get my dog a Christmas present this year. I've never been one to buy my pets presents on holidays because, well, they're pets! It's not like they're going to know or anything. But when my seven year old daughter asked me what I thought Santa was going to bring Sassy this year, I knew I had to get something for the dog.

So my husband picked up a fairly generic doggie-stocking stuffed with doggie toys and we put it under the tree. At first it didn't really seem like the dog was that into her present. She'd kind of half-heartedly chase the squeaky ball or nose the toy candy-cane around, but no real excitement-- maybe she had been hoping for a new exciting chicken-flavored chewy-- I don't know.

But after a day or so I noticed a new light in the dog's eyes (or at least the one she can see out of). She seemed to be favoring the stuffed-Santa toy. She'd kind of sidle over coyly and gaze at Santa with a look that could only be called adoring.

And then she'd attempt to hump the bejeesus out of the thing.

I didn't know girl dogs did this until Sassy came along. Unfortunately my mom never got her spayed. At first there was a glimmering of an idea to breed the dog, but then it just turned into laziness and the dog was left with these feelings, or yearnings maybe, that can't find expression without a boy dog to help her out.

Apparently Santa is a decent surrogate.

When this slightly alarming behavior started (you try explaining what the dog is doing to Santa to your young children) I had already had Sassy scheduled to be fixed so I didn't worry too much. I assumed the dog's hormones would cool it once she was no longer fertile, but it turns out that was a foolish hope.

I don't know if all dogs will try to hump stuffed animals after being fixed, or if it's behavior that's only common to dogs who are older after being snipped. I doesn't really matter, Sassy still wants to get it on with the guy in red.

But I've had to put the kibosh on her party. It's just too awkward with kids or polite company. So I had to take Santa away.

The dog usually sleeps on our bed at night, but for the last two nights she's slept on the downstairs couch. I don't know if she's in mourning or if she simply isn't speaking to me. Or maybe she knows Santa is sitting on top of the TV and she's hoping he'll come down for a midnight tryst.

I hope I'm not getting in the way of true love.

Monday, January 07, 2008

What a Drama Free Life Looks Like

My parents have been gone a little over a month now and it's HEAVEN I tell you. My mom calls every few days but the phone cards only last 6 minutes so the calls are blissfully short. It's beautiful.

So what have hubby and I done with our new peaceful existence? Did we take up zen meditation to get into tune with our spirits-- or whatever the hell that stuff is for? Heck no! We bought "Guitar Hero."

I have never in my life played video games before. I hate the whole joystick thingy. I cannot push buttons and aim at the same time. I don't know if it's an X chromosome thing (kind of like being directionally challenged) or if I'm just lazy. But "Guitar Hero" rocks (no pun intended)!

I can play a game that lets me hold a guitar and pretend I know how to play it. How great is that? I don't need to know my way around notes or chords or melodies or any of that junk. Nope. I just push the blue button when it appears on screen and music happens! Instant gratification never felt so good.

Blogging is tough though. My hands are all tired and cramped up. The first night I put a brief post up on my sci-fi blog and I could barely type.

But I have found it's a great stress reliever and oddly enough something my husband and I can do together. Yeah, we're dorks. Parent free dorks....

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Big shock, they're gonna sue....


I'm sure most of you have heard about the tiger attack at the San Francisco Zoo last week. If you haven't, all you have to do is google San Fransico Zoo and tiger and you'll have all the details you can handle. But in a nutshell, 3 boys were visiting the zoo on Christmas day and according to bystanders were teasing the tiger, which resulted in the animal scaling the wall and killing one boy and mauling the other two.

So, big shocker, the surviving boys (brothers) have retained a lawyer (ambulance chaser Mark Geragos of Scott-Peterson-trial fame) and it's looking a whole lot like they're going to sue the zoo.

What bugs me to no end about this whole thing is that I think the zoo is responsible for the attack despite the fact that the survivors appear to be total tools. The boys haven't spoken to or been cooperative with police at all. I don't know if they have even spoken to the family of the boy who was killed but I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't because their behavior thus far would indicate they are complete assholes.

And if their personalities were taken into account they probably wouldn't get anything from a jury.

But here's the thing. The tiger got over the wall. No matter what those boys did to provoke the tiger the fact is the zoo should have been damn sure that such a dangerous animal couldn't have made it over the wall. Because we're talking about a wild animal, whose to say what could have caught the tiger's eye at any given time and made it curious enough to get out? What if it had been my kid (or yours) on the other side of that enclosure carrying a balloon that made the tiger just curious enough to check it out?

See what I'm getting at?

The zoo takes our money and offers us the spectacle of wild animals on display with the promise of safe viewing. It doesn't matter whether you approve of keeping wild animals in captivity or not, it just is what it is and the zoo didn't ensure the public safety. And now, two complete shitheads will probably walk with a ton of money they don't deserve and a beautiful animal was put to death because the zoo was careless. And lets not forget the boy who was killed. He sounds as if he was the most decent of the bunch. At least, for his parents sake, I hope he was.