25 January 2011

On the eve of my gaining a new citizenship

Hey, it's Tuesday today & no disasters. Picked up a picture we were having framed, ran some errands, at an awesome beef & mushroom pie - hey I call it taste testing because I'm going to buy some pies for my party on Sunday - & all in all a very fine day. Stinkin' hot outside but enough of a breeze through the house that we're staying nice & pleasant. Now Ben did have a late long nap so I believe bedtime is going to be when disaster strikes. He's having a odd time of it these days. It's takes him an hour or more every night to get to sleep. He's happy as a clam in there most of the time, entertaining himself but he sure ain't sleeping. Books, websites & trusted friends say as long as he's not crying & he is eventually settling himself then all is well. It can't be that easy, can it? One genius friend did point out that it's probably Ben's only real alone time so he's just kickin' it on his own, staking stock of his day & enjoying being away from my bossy face. Well, Dana said it a lot more nicely than that but I get it.

So tomorrow is my big day! I'm becoming a citizen bright & early in the morning in Gosford. Supposed to be an even stinkin'er day tomorrow - getting up to 35 (95 fahrenheit). Listen summer, I know we have a rough track record & I am really trying to like you but you are making it damn hard. I can't handle another bad hair day. I can't handle ill-fitting shorts. I can't handle the sweaty underboob situation. You have to cut me some slack.

Anyway, back to my citizenship. I am muy muy muy excited!! I feel like I'm actually reaching a pretty major life goal. I never went to Ireland to study poetry, never got it on with a famous rock star or became a famous rock star myself so living in Australia is all I had left. I know I'm not dead yet but seriously, I'm not putting up with the crap of becoming a singer, not putting up with the crap that a famous rock star would bring to my life & what kind of teenager actually wants to go to college in Ireland to STUDY POETRY?? What does one do with a degree in poetry? Oh, you're a doctor? You're an aid worker? You're a trial lawyer? Yeah, I'm a poet - got a degree in it & everything. You need a sonnet, you come see me.

But I digress ... again. If Marcel manages to get any good photos of me taking my oath & all that good stuff, I'll post them to facebook. I don't want you to get too excited but I may or may not be being interviewed for the Central Coast Express Advocate! Okay, I am!! But my road to citizenship isn't really a thrilling one so I fear there's a strong chance they'll decide not to run my story. Must find a way to jazz it up before tomorrow morning - need to add a struggle, some adventure or a crazy twist. You might not recognize me before I'm done with it but at least I'll make it in the local paper! I wish I had the nerve to do that but I'll probably just tell the truth & the story will be "Girl marries dude who grew up here & stayed long enough to apply for citizenship." with a picture of me grinning my cheesy grin & possibly throwing in a thumbs up for added enthusiasm. See, this is what happens to kids who dream of running away to be a poet.

Anyhoo, I'm off to rescue Benny's toy from wherever he's dropped them now. Oh speaking of dropping, I lose another 1/2 a kilo so now I'm down 2 kilos total (4.4 pounds). Not much but good since I only hit the gym once last week & didn't stick to my diet all that well. I probably put it all back on with that one little pie that I shared with Ben today too. Ah well, hitting the gym better this week.

And now I'm going.

17 January 2011

Ballad of the Bad Mother

It's not even 1.30pm yet & I've already had enough of this day. I've spent much of it feeling very woe is me with a dash of must clean this house & a sprinkle of WTF. Let's revisit the day so far - I am feeling far too sorry for myself to write a narrative so I'll list it in diary form instead:

Oh wait, keep in mind that Ben was up a lot last night not feeling so great (lots of crying, some screaming & a whole lot of cuddling) so not much sleep was had. And yes, it's going to make you feel more sympathetic towards him but I'd suffered as well! Moving on ...

6am - Up & at 'em with Benny boy

7.15am - Marcel off to work, we wave at the window as usual

8.30am - I am bathed, dressed, ready to rock & roll. Ben is looking super fly as usual. I even cut the long sleeves out from under the short sleeves of his Old Navy Buzz Lightyear t-shirt this morning so it's officially a t-shirt now. Score!

9.00am - Out the door. I have two books on hold at the library & nothing else to do so we're off to get them & see what adventures we have in store. Someone should have warned me that they wouldn't be good adventures.

9.29am - Parked near the library, walking by the windows of the multipurpose room where classes are held. Looking in, hey looks like a little kickers class is about to start ... OH SHIT. It's Tuesday, 9.30am. That's OUR Little Kickers class. I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO LITTLE KICKERS. But I should. It's good for Ben. He only has flip flops with him so hahahahaha, no Little Kickers for us. Walk faster, walk faster so no one notices us.

Zoom by the Little Kickers sign in sheet right next to where we drop off our returned library books. There's a solitary uniform sitting by the sheet, must be Ben's. Not making me feel like a wonderful mother right now. Shuffle faster, shuffle faster. Go to the mailbox, mail our DVD back. Wonder if they've closed the door to Little Kickers yet? We'll just mosey on over to the playground for a few minutes.

This playground is better for kids older than Ben but they had to shut down the toddler playground because bloody Myer (department store) complained that it covered part of their window. Will never shop at Myer again ... unless they have awesome sale.

Ben sends Animal down the slide a dozen times but seems too timid for sliding himself today. Does seem interested in the little rock wall. Yes, he thinks it's a slide & is eager to go down even though it's completely vertical & covered in foot holds. Help the boy down, trying to avoid a bruised rear end.

Strange child with chocolate on his face takes Ben's Buzz doll, dunks in his mom's coffee foam but then kindly returns it. No drama. Ben runs towards old lady on a bench who is feeding two grandkids some grapes, she recoils from him like he is Satan in the flesh, literally pulling her grapes up like they're precious jewels that he might swipe. He smiles at her, I say excuse me. Well, my mouth says sorry but my eyes are all like "Lady, it's a playground. He's a toddler. He likes food. You're a grandmother. WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE A LOON? I don't like you & hope Ben has a virus that he's just passed on to you & your grandkids. There I said it."

I'm sick of the playground, start to put Ben in pram. Ben is not cooperative - screaming, crying, smacking himself. This is not going well. Strap him in & quickly duck away, praying that the other parents don't share Crazy Grandma's judgment. Must still stop at the library to pick up reserved books.

I've given up on the time concept at this point because time stands still when you're being screamed at by an overtired child who just wants to play. Walk into the community center area where library & Little Kickers are, Ben still screeching. Do I drag him into the library? Will only take 2 minutes but will break cardinal rule of library silence. Few old people in line - they tend to give dirty looks & I've reached my quota of old people dirty looks for one day so forget the library books, let's just walk past Little Kickers with a Little Dignity & get home.

Take Ben out of the pram. Am going to hold him because he usually likes that & it should calm him down. IT IS NOT WORKING. He's getting louder, squawkier, arms flailing. Keeping my head down, saying silent prayer of thank you that Little Kickers door is closed. Out the door, Ben still mid meltdown in my arms. Forgot the long line of windows on the building. Coach Matt, please be running some adorable drills so other mothers don't look out the window & see Ben whacking me in the face & crying like I've got a cattle prod against  him.

Longest walk of shame ever over, Ben strapped in car, have slammed any & all car doors. Am tempted to open them again just so I can re-slam them. P-o-i-n-t m-a-d-e. Drove home in a huff, tears streaming. Both of us. Forced the boy to bed immediately upon arrival at home, after diaper changing of course. Did his own thing until falling asleep an hour later. I watch TMZ in peace & quiet, clean some blinds, wash some dishes. Mom calls, I tell her my tale of woe. She says it's really pretty funny but not really. I make mental note for the next time she nags me to move back to her side of the world.

There was one shining nugget of gold in my day. And it's not the fact that we're going to have to go back to the damn library this afternoon because they'll only hold my books one day. It's that as I hustled my demon-possessed child towards the parking lot, out of the corner of my eye as I was peering at the Little Kickers crowd making sure they weren't peering at me, I noticed one mom chasing her son off into the corner & all around. God bless you lady for reminding me that I'm not alone.

So, I didn't even go to Little Kickers & I still managed to show them that Ben is "that" kid in class & I'm the mom who can't control her son. Still managed to cry in my car without even going through the class. Aces. I'm never leaving the house on Tuesday again.

16 January 2011

Pureed thoughts

Today is a rather blah Sunday - haven't accomplished much besides going to the gym while Ben napped & Marcel weeded. Went to the gym four times this week but I'm still terrified to step on the scale tomorrow because I have not eaten so well this weekend. For my birthday this year, can all of you chip in & get me some willpower please? And I know it's boring to read my fitness & nutrition updates so I should just cut them out completely. I believe it was the wise prophetess Paris Hilton who said that you shouldn't talk to people about going to the gym, you should just let them assume you're naturally fit & don't have to work for it. She had a second piece of advice I liked too (I have no idea where on earth I heard or read all of this Hiltonesque advice that is slowly becoming my way of life apparently) - smile all the time because it makes you more attractive & everyone will assume you've got something interesting going on. I guess I already smile most of the time but that's because I'm a bit of a dope so maybe if I change my reasons for smiling then people won't think I'm dopey & will just assume I'm having a torrid affair or am secretly a gazillionaire who likes to slum it at Erina Fair mall.

I've decided I need to update the long list of blogs I try to visit everyday. I'm finally getting sick of all the lovely, adorable, sweet as sugar cottagey places that have daily updates of what new thing they found by the side of the road & painted white or grey or some washed out shade of aqua if they need a punch of color. I believe Ashley's white phase has officially passed. Not that I ever actually lived it & honestly I still love the look & don't mind it in magazines but the blog folks drive me bananas with their "Oh, just found this little jewel at an op shop & had leftover Caribbean Dream paint from my last project so slapped it together & now my bedside table looks like it's permanently on holiday ... especially when I stack these empty vintage suitcases under it & put a hydrangea in the vase on top." Turds. ALL OF THEM.

So in my latest voyage to the library, I picked up Jessica Seinfeld's Deceptively Delicious book. Did I tell you we met her once? She was delightful. (It's a long story.)(Really it's not but I'm too lazy to tell it.)( I could have already told it by now, huh?)( Oh, I'll just tell it at the end of this post.) So yes, it's the book where she purees lots of veggies & sneaks them into recipes so you can't taste them. No she doesn't think they should replace visible veggies on the plate but just extra ones as your kids get used to veggies to make sure they're getting lots of nutrition. I am making her brownies tonight. WITH SPINACH & CARROT PUREE. They're downright healthy apparently. Well, I heard a rumor from myself that they're practically diet & exercise on a plate so how can I say no? They may be a disaster but she swears they're very tasty. In any case, if they're even the slightest bit successful I'm taking them to a Golden Globes red-carpet viewing party tomorrow. Okay, it's just 3 of us & a TV plus one well-behaved child & Ben but anything that resembles a social event for me I just call a party because it's a reason for me to celebrate. Beware Nic, I may be bringing some terrible brownies!

I realize Mrs. Seinfeld is a million bazillionaire with her lovely husband, Jerry, so perhaps her kitchen equipment didn't cost $30 at Big W but I have doubts about my blender's abilities now. It took ages to puree that stupid spinach & carrots. On the other hand, my awesome little bamboo steamer is the greatest $5 purchase I've ever made. Steamed like a dream - it should really have a chat to its blender neighbor about picking up its game. And really, I don't advise steaming or heaps of blending or standing up or anything else taxing on such a muggy day like today. I should have been swimming but no. So now I have 1/2 cup pureed spinach & 1/2 cup pureed carrots so just have to do absolutely everything else like using a double boiling system for my chocolate & sifting stuff without a sifter & possibly other things I'm not prepared for. All of this so I can have a bloody brownie that I can convince myself works on my diet. Oh crap, I'm not supposed to be talking about my diet am I? I'm just naturally this svelte. Hmmm ... might have to keep this tactic going for a while longer until I actually have the kind of body where people would wonder how I keep in such shape.

And of course all the recipes are American so they're in the standard measurement world. What is it called again? Uhhhh ... hmmmm ... I want to say royal but I know that's wrong. Imperial? Why am I doing this? Anyway, ever since screwing up my height conversion to the metric system, effectively making me as tall as a garden gnome, thus also giving me the BMI of Curly from the Three Stooges, I have been a mite paranoid & check my conversions a few times over. This only adds more frustration to the mix (I wish I had more cooking puns up my sleeve).

Next time I do one of her recipes I might make a vide of it for your viewing pleasure. I am not trying to say anything bad about her recipes - they are actually quite easy if you have a brain or any knowledge of cooking. So basically anyone but me. And she dedicates an hour a week to doing all her pureeing for the upcoming days. That's right, every Sunday night you can find Jerry Seinfeld in his kitchen with her pureeing veggies & discussing their schedule for the week. I really need to stop reading all the personal anecdotes in this book before I cross into stalker zone.

Here's my Jessica Seinfeld story - brace yourself, it's thrilling:
My 22nd birthday fell the month after September 11th. I know you're wondering how the world managed to focus on the ongoing drama in New York & Washington while I had a birthday to observe but that's just how life is, folks. Anyhoo, we heard about a charity comedy benefit called Stand Up for New York that sounded fairly awesome so looked into it. Tickets were ridonkulously expense, which is understandable as it was a charity benefit. We were poor college students but my dear boyfriend, who is now my dear husband, had good credit so shelled out the gazillion dollars for two tickets. We had the most beautiful couple of days in New York, which was still absolutely empty in the creepiest way possible & everyone was still being incredible warm to one another & happy to have tourists back in town. So we went early to the benefit at the not-so-shabby Carnegie Hall because we had no idea what we were doing. We waited outside for a while with a group of firemen because who doesn't want to hang around with heroes. While waiting, a cab pulled up & I said "Is that Jimmy Fallon?" then immediately realized I was wrong & that it was really an old lady. Door opened, it was Jimmy Fallon. We stalked him as he stood in line at the will-call booth. Marcel tapped him on the shoulder & this picture was taken:
Ashley & Jimmy, when he was still just the cute nerd on SNL.
Oh wait, I missed a kind of important bit of the story. When we first arrived to get our tickets a lovely lady opened the door for us & was super friendly & thanked us for our support (they were seriously not cheap tickets). I won't keep you in suspense, it was Jessica Seinfeld. Jerry was one of the performers. ANYWAY, I'll just keep going but you can tune out if you were only after the Jessica part of this never-ending yarn.

We hung out in the lobby for a while as everyone else showed up. There was another couple that obviously did not belong just like us & we were all stuck against the wall, a little shell-shocked at the wealth & fame streaming through the doors. There was that lady that's on Weekend Update with Jimmy Fallon (Tina Fey), the slutty woman that looks like she'd have a rich boyfriend/husband who oh crap was closely followed by her boyfriend/husband Donald Trump, Bill & Hillary Clinton, & loads more that I really can't remember for some reason. Was a fantastic night of comedy & we had such a good time mingling with the other half - I'm sure we blended right in.

10 January 2011


Anyone who has known me for a while knows that I can spend a little too much time analyzing my head suit (that's hair to anyone not versed in 30 Rock) - the bangs or fringe to be exact. I think I've figure out what's disturbing me about my latest hair trim & color. I think bangs look much better with brunette hair. They actually look quite stylish whereas when I'm blonde they're just there. I'm going to revisit this fascinating one-person discussion when it's not such shitty weather & when I have a fully functional straightener so my head doesn't appear to be a walking profiterole.

Well, I was going to lead with our household's huge news but it's already going downhill. The good news: BEN SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT LAST NIGHT FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME!!! That's right - I got my first full night of sleep since the last weeks of my pregnancy. He's not feeling so great or something though because it took him aaaages of whining & crying & tossing & turning to finally settle down & now he's just passed the hour mark of getting down for his nap the same way. And yes, he is sleepy & does need his nap - I'm not just being "follow the routine" mama. Hell, I don't like "follow the routine" mama so you should know I'm not hopping along in her footsteps. He's exhausted - we are one car short so drove Marcel to work today then straight back to the joy of Little Kickers. Gag me with a spoon. We left early after 30 minutes of running like a loon & throwing particularly dramatic tantrums. I don't need this in my life. Anyway, I gave him some Nurofen a few minutes ago so hoping that if he does have an ache or pain it will sort him out.

I mentioned on my facebook & will reiterate now that I can never make plans for myself during Ben's naptime. I long ago realized I couldn't speak of said plans out loud because even as a baby he could understand & scheme creative ways to make sure I didn't take my own nap or give myself a pedicure or something lovely. But he's met his match today! His butt can stay in that crib as long as it takes - he is taking a nap. Don't worry, I am checking in on him & giving him my calming reassurances so he doesn't know I'm fuming inside because I can't relax in front of a movie with my toenail supplies. Some days just deserve to be written off & forgotten.

Sorry for all the cursing in this little rant. You'd think a good night's sleep would make me a more pleasant lady but the roundtrip commute & the soul-sucking soccer class has put me firmly in the bitter barn. Hope your day is better!

The Bentalist

I am a neurotic parent, I know that. I find myself often wondering what little Benny is going to look like when he's older so sometimes I look at celebrity pictures doing some research. I've found some doozies along the way but I invite you to see what I see for the future of young Obi Wan Keneisele ...

Simon Baker, eat your heart out - the curls, the vests, the adorable shifty eyes I assume Ben will have an Aussie accent someday soon as well. Heartbreak potential is through the roof! And yes, many days I believe Benny is giving me the old Mentalist shakedown.

Today is Ben & my first day back of it just being us at home. Marcel's car is in the shop so we don't even have a car to get around in & it's pouring down rain so we're well & truly stuck inside today. No major cabin fever yet so I'm calling the day a success already but it's not even 5pm yet so we've got a ways to go until our day is complete!

While the boy napped today, I pulled out an old favorite & watched Shakespeare in Love! I remember all the scandal about it back in the day when it won lots of Oscars after its massive marketing campaign but I loved it just as much today as when I originally watched it in a weird little theater in Laurel, Maryland with Dana Wana. Good times, good times. And it made time fly while I folded laundry, researched some things online, sent some emails, cleaned a bit, all the usual boring trappings of my life. Maybe I'll watch it again tomorrow. Surely if I watch it enough Joseph Fiennes will just show up on my doorstep to stare at me with those huge heavenly eyes of his while I toil away & save me the trouble of wishing I was Gwyneth Paltrow. I hate wishing I was Gwyneth Paltrow - nothing against her, she actually seems hilariously lovely no matter how much smack people talk about her GOOP newsletter. I just don't want to waste time I'm pretending I'm her when I could be spending my time pretending I'm Beyonce as usual.

HEY! I lost a kilo & a half (3.3 pounds I think)! I'm so excited - I feel like my 2 weeks of better eating & gymming have really payed off. Do I see anything different? Uhhhh, no. Is there a chance it was just water weight from my lady cycle? Possibly. Am I convinced that any weight I lose will just be my milk boobs disappearing now that I'm weaning? Sadly yes. Is it wrong to mourn the loss of milk boobs? I've enjoyed them so much & they'll be the only chance I have to enjoy scandalous necklines. Back to Chesty Snoozeville for me, I suppose. Ah well if the scale keeps going down I'll still celebrate no matter what the reason. 

So tomorrow we make our grand return to Little Kickers. *sigh* I am really not looking forward to it but I'm trying to keep my spirits up & I keep talking to Ben about what to expect so maybe he'll be ready. We may spend another session running around the room like maniacs not doing anything the other kids are doing but as long as I'm not crying in the car afterwards this time I'll consider it a victory. I've tried to practice sitting & kicking with Ben but the child is a free spirit, I'm afraid. Many years from now I'll appreciate this but right now it just makes him "that" kid & I'm the mom who can't control her toddler. Lovely.

09 January 2011

And now the time has come

Oh, my poor husband. He has to go back to work tomorrow after a long, relaxing, luxurious holiday with us at home. BWAHAHAHA! If there was a moment of relaxation for him, I was not aware of it. At least he'll be happy to be back in his little air conditioned edit suite with adults to talk to that aren't me. And while sleep training is not the best way to spend a vacation it has paid off big time. Ben is in his bed as we speak, probably still kicking around & talking to himself but not a tear in sight & he'll be asleep before we know it. He still won't sleep through the night but last night he only woke up ONCE. I'm not holding my breath for that happen again anytime soon but now when he wakes up we just give him a quick kiss on the head & say "It's time to sleep," sometimes give him a sip of water & he's out again like a light. No more rocking to sleep, no more breastfeeding to sleep, no more torture! 

Having said that, if anyone has a tip for how we can cut out the 2-3 times he wakes up between 1-5am that would be lovely. He's usually awake & ready to start the day by 5.30 or 6am, which is pretty painful but we're willing to adjust if he ever lets us have a full night's sleep.

Weaning is also going well. I'm not pulling him off cold turkey but he's gone a couple of days without it here & there but most days he has a single feed a few hours after he wakes up. I have to admit that it's heaven holding him in my arms those few minutes a day - I find myself thinking of how he used to drink around the bloody clock when he was younger. How did I survive that? Yikes.

Went back to the doctor & all is fine so that's good news. Also went to the eye doctor for an exam & all is well there too, which is extra good news because I have avoided the eye doctor for about 6 years & ordered my contacts online. I confessed all this to the eye doctor, who said I have amazing eyes for someone who has neglected them so much. Thanks ... I think? He was nice about it & said it's fine to order them online as long as I stay current with my exams, etc. My prescription has not changed in my left eye since I originally got glasses/contacts many moons ago & my right has only changed a smidgen. OH MY WORD, I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM WRITING ALL OF THIS IN MY BLOG. I AM BORING MYSELF AS I'M TYPING!!

Hmmm, what's more exciting? Oh, I know! We've dedicated way too much of our brainpower today trying to make up our list of the five celebrities we're allowed to cheat with if ever given the chance. I know you have your own list but have you updated it recently?? You better get on that - you don't want to miss out if you happen to bump into David Beckham but you still have Kirk Cameron on your list from yonks ago. You must be pretty old to have Kirk Cameron on your cheating list or you were having inappropriate thoughts for a kid watching Growing Pains.

Anyway, there was much debate for these lists - Marcel is an enigma wrapped in a riddle. It was like pulling teeth to get him to find ladies he liked! I listed every pretty young thing in Hollywood (& some not so pretty & young), striking out left & right. He thinks Jennifer Aniston has a "boofy" nose & Rachel Bilson (one he used to like) is now somehow funny looking? Sidenote: I am starting to believe that I must be a bazillion times more beautiful than I thought. But apparently I just wasn't going exotic enough because the ladies he finally agreed on were quite varied from a certain large-reared Kardashian to a certain Latina lovely whose name rhymes with Shmeva Shmendes but I promised not to reveal his thoughts. So on to me.

I was actually a little dismayed by my new list. It's mad white! Not just white, but really rather pasty white. What the hell? Why isn't Gael Garcia Bernal doing anything for me anymore? Duane Johnson just missed out by a hair this year but what happened to the other men of color that I'm usually drooling over? Marcel's list was a veritable United Nations of ladies but my boys would all probably freckle in the sun at best. Ah well, the heart wants what the heart wants ... I hope my heart isn't racist. Marcel referred to my gentlemen as sugar cookies so obviously others have noticed my lack of pigment. Here we go, starting with the duh & ending with the new guy but in no preferential order.

Granted, he has changed a little bit since I first loved him when I was 13:
So yeah, he's a little bit older but he's also a little bit wiser, a whole lot more famous & AS I ALWAYS PREDICTED he's done a bit of world-changing. Nothing hotter than a charismatic singer, an honest songwriter & oh yeah, he saves African babies in his spare time. 


Marcel makes fun of his kissy lips face but Marcel's an idiot as that is but one of Daniel Craig's loveliest features. I had never seen a James Bond movie before Mr. Craig came along because a slick man in a suit didn't do much for me but lordy lordy once I got a gander of this one in 007 mode, suddenly that whole suave image with sports cars (usually a major snooze alert for me) totally made sense. He can do no wrong in my humble opinion. 
Please sir can I have some more? 

You're welcome.

This one is the biggest surprise to me. That's right, it's my own list & I'm still finding surprises. Matt Damon was probably the top of my list back in my first year or two of college when my best friend had Ben Affleck so it worked out perfectly. But while I've admired a hell of a lot of the acting he has done in the past 12 few years I wasn't lusting after him so much anymore. Two beautiful things happened:

If you guest star on 30 Rock, I automatically love you. If you do this while in uniform & do a hysterical Urkle impression & use the word "pubes," I will be halfway to adding you to my list of celebrities that I would run away with for a night.

If you have a big square head that is shaved, you have my attention (shall I remind you of how much I loved the first season of Prison Break where large shaved heads seemed to be a major theme?). If you can wear a uniform the way that Mr. Damon did in Green Zone, you have completed the other half of the 30 Rock equation to hop back on to me list after many years in exile. 
Welcome back, Matty boy - I missed you.

I think I would be both nervous & overly giggly if I were ever to meet Mr. Downey Jr & I doubt he likes either of those traits in a lady but I'm still keeping him on my list. I loved Sherlock Holmes so much that it made me forget that I fell asleep during Iron Man. Hell, I liked it so much that Jude Law almost managed to claw his way back on my list (I'm keeping my eye on you Jude just in case you surprise me next year). Anyway, RDJ is one of those men who has aged exceedingly well & he makes me use the word "wit" more often than is necessary.

Shut up. 
So when I was pregnant we went to more movies than usual because people kept warning us that our movie-watching days were soon to be over (they weren't wrong) but I think we watched 17 Again because I had a vicious popcorn craving & there was nothing else to watch. I thought it was just my shady hormones at work but alas, I still find myself fawning over Mr. Efron like a schoolgirl. Well, except for the fact that the schoolgirls have moved on to new boys or vampires or whatever they're into these days. I also loved Hairspray & may have sat through High School Musical when I stumbled upon it at 7 in the morning. 
I seriously giggled so much during 17 Again that Marcel knew I was somehow trying to flirt with Zac Efron telepathically or something. It wasn't my proudest moment.

I actually googled "Zac Efron shirtless" but then felt so skeezy that I couldn't bring myself to use any of the pictures. I wouldn't judge you if you chose to google it yourself. He's not actually 17 ya know, just because he was in a movie about being 17. It's not illegal. It could totally happen.

So there we have it, my list. Do you remember the Friends episode where Ross made his list, then printed & laminated it? Yeah, I'm not doing that. And while typing this Marcel has hemmed & hawed some more & still can't settle on 5 girls - I'm pretty sure he thinks this is some life contract that can never be revoked & it makes me think that he is honestly expecting to stumble upon the wrong Kardashian at the mall & he's going to curse himself. 

Now you go work on your list & let me know who you've got in mind.

01 January 2011

Secret Ladies Business (dudes, I warned you)

Okay, I remembered what else I want to tell you. I have my period back! Yeah, not really great news for most ladies but going without since I got pregnant with my little man, it's been weird. Somehow I feel a little more human having it back in my life BUT all my old bizarro side effects are back with it. Do you ladies have weird symptoms? Cramps, tiredness & eating like an Olympic swimmer (seriously, google Michael Phelps's training diet - it will blow your mind) are all par for the course. Every cycle I suffer through the joy of in-grown eyebrow lashes on my left side. Usually only my left side & it's really every time, I have to be ultra careful tweezing when I think the red tide is on the horizon or I get multiple lumps & bumps & look like a crazy person. On the other side of my face, I get a small outbreak of hormonal zits between my mouth & chin - like right where my phone & hair hit. And they're not just zits, they are the kind that you feel coming for days & there is nothing you can do to stop them. They ache & are solid as rocks when they finally do bloom as bright as red roses. And I won't start on the self esteem issues that PMS brings on - there are tears, boy are there tears.

But I'm glad to have it back so I can start tracking it. I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago for my regular lady check up & we talked about the fact that I hadn't gotten my period back & my doctor was worried, even though I was still breastfeeding. She sent me for an ultrasound & it turns out I have multi-follicular ovaries, which means they have more than 12 little follicle things on each ovary. This causes me to have wacky cycles. When the ultrasound lady told me this I did remember that when I went off the pill my period showed up about every 6 weeks or so, whenever it damn well felt like showing up. I had forgotten about those joyous days. So anyway, I go back to my doctor next week for follow up tests to see if there's anything else exciting I should know about & whether I need any treatment. She mentioned that some women have trouble conceiving when their periods are goofy but I think Ben's existence is probably testament that I'm okay but we'll see for sure soon.

More importantly than anything else, I have decided what my "reward" will be when I reach my goal weight - I'm going to get a fancy new haircut, finally attempting some style & not so boring & fluffy. My original plan was to just get whatever haircut Winona Ryder has at the time. But then we took Ben to see Megamind. And yes, when I say we took him to see it I mean that we dragged his butt along because we wanted to see it ourselves. It was awesome. Anyway, Tina Fey's character Roxy or Roxie or whatever has the most awesome hair on earth. So yes, it has come to this. I am dreaming of hairstyles from CARTOON CHARACTERS. But really, feast your eyes on this

And while I'm coveting pretty things, check out this wedding dress from a WAG over here named Rebecca Twigley. Color me impressed with this number - very original but not obnoxiously so & somehow balances modern, frilly & like a vintagey art deco. 

I'm not usually one that goes ga-ga for wedding dresses but I'd force Marcel to go through a second ceremony if I could convince the new Mrs. Judd to let me have this now that she really doesn't need it anymore. I would have to ratchet my goal weight down by an extra bazillion pounds or so but it would be worth it.

For some odd reason, I decided to document my terrible colonial hair this morning for you. I regret it already but if I don't laugh at my bad hair, I have no choice but to cry. Let's review - here is America's first President, Mr. George Washington:

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is me in my natural surrounds (President Washington WISHES he had timber blinds) looking how I do when I roll out of bed in the morning & throw my terrible messy mane back:

Crazy Lady au natural.
FYI, This would not be a good day to tell people to check out the awesome/terrible/awkward/boring blog you read.
So on that colonial note, I wish you adieu. Here's to surviving another day of 2011 - HUZZAH!

twenty eleven

I bet you hoped that my resolution for 2011 would be to stop these stupid blogs. No such luck, sorry. I've been quiet on the sleep training front for a few days because it's gone downhill & I'm sick of trying to work out why & what we should do, blah blah blah. Marcel & I are sticking with it & staying strong in the method but I think Ben has either just caught on that this is a long term thing & he's not happy about it OR he's got his last molars coming through & he's not happy about that instead. He's been chewing his fingers & a few other teething symptoms but who knows. He might just be starting those terrible twos a little early. In any case, it has been a tense & sometimes miserable week in our household!! He's not getting nearly enough sleep so he's grouchy & downright unpleasant some days. Lots of "NOnonononono!" in our lives these days. I hope this passes quickly so sanity can return.

I really don't have any resolutions - just the usual crap of be a good wife, mom & citizen of the world. Maybe I'll try to make some friends around here & I wouldn't mind learning a new skill. Let's be honest, I have no skills so anything will do. Nun-chucks?  Harmonica? Arm wrestling? It could literally be anything. I'd like to watch more movies but that seems like a slack thing to resolve but there you go.

Losing weight doesn't need to be my resolution because I am back on the gym train & I have started dieting. That's right, the worst eater in the world is changing.  I've been doing halfway okay for my first few days & I am very optimistic of sticking with it. Can't wait until these kilos start flying off me (bwahahah - it doesn't take work does it?)! I am only willing to weigh myself in kilos because I don't have the strongest concept of how much it really is & I'm sure the pound conversion would make me cry. I did my BMI calculation on a website I joined that tracks calories, workouts, snoooooooze ... anyway because I insist on only using the metric system for my weight I messed up my height conversion & the computer kindly informed me that I was technically obese. Lord, that was a dark afternoon in this household! Later that night in bed, I suddenly realized I had miscalculated those stupid centimeters & prayed that I really was just chubby not the heifer I feared could be correct. So long story a little shorter, I am only overweight (never thought that would be good news) but not obese. I've set goals, bought veggies & fruit, denied snacks & am on a new path in life that I hope doesn't kill me or put me in a chronic bad mood or something. It's all so annoying - why should wonderful things like brownies, frozen Cokes & pastry be so bad? Ugh. Well, if any of you are interested in the website thing I joined let me know & I'll give you details (it's free) but otherwise I'm keeping it secret so you can't peek at my progress! Tres embarrassing.

I had other things to write but I got so wound up retelling the fascinating tale of Ashley's Afternoon of Obesity that I've forgotten what I was going to say. It's a hot day so I'll blame that too. It's round about 35 celsius today, which is 95 Fahrenheit & I will skip my regular speech about why such a hot country has so few air conditioners in their homes because we have a pool & there is nothing so blessed as floating around that pool when it's stinkin' hot outside. Our family is getting some nice color on us, which is lovely (until we are all diagnosed with skin cancer)(I promise we use heavy duty sunscreen every time we're out there!) but my hair is in a perpetual George Washington state, which is less than lovely.
This should happen to no woman, regardless of humidity, wackiness of bangs or pulling it back while it's wet.
Just realized my son is munching on a banana peel so I better resolve to learn some mothering skills this year. Happy to New Year to all 3 of you that read this blog!!! I love you & can't wait to see what 2011 has in store for us all.