I left Tessa on the floor the other day with some toys and went into the other room to put a few items of clothes away. I was literally gone one minute. When I walked back in the living room, she was all the way across the room, pulling my phone charger out of the power strip. SCARY. Had she gotten the end of the cord in her mouth...
Needless to say, it's time to start babyproofing.
I'll have a fresh start when we move, so I plan on babyproofing from the beginning. So in looking for a baby gate on Amazon, I came across Babyproofing products.
Am I such an idiotic bad parent that I didn't realize I had to lock my TOILET?
Anything in your house you want to lock, you've got it.
Lock up your fridge. Your cabinets. Your drawers. Pad the corners of the tables, line all sharp edges with foam...
Doorknob covers (???), Hearth protectors, electric cord shorteners, outlet plugs, window guards, pole padding, flatscreen TV wall locks, stove knob covers, clear banister sheilds, stove knob covers, blind cord securing thingies, PLANT PROTECTOR NETS to keep your child from digging and eating dirt from potted plants, washer/dryer knob locks (so they don't accidentally lock themselves in the dryer and then turn it on), window lock LOCKS, mom and me safety bracelets (like handcuffs that you and your child wear so they can't wander more than 3 feet. great idea.), oh my god, the list is endless and the more i look, the more I feel like a completely incapable and careless mother.
I guess it's time to get to work.. by the time I've purchased afore-mentioned products, I'll be bankrupt.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Toot
So Natalie and I did a yoga class the other day. It was wayy too crowded, probably 50 people neck to neck, and for some reason EVERYONE was farting. I mean, it was ridiculous. Especially when the girl next to me- and by next to me I mean basically sitting on top me of- started farting. One after the other. I had such a hard time not turning to stare at her. It took all of my self control not to.
Does anyone else have imaginary dialogue with people they see or meet?
"Excuse me, you just farted."
"Why, yes, I did. I just now realize that as I bring both of my legs from out behind my head."
"Oh, well you farted again as you came out of your pose."
"You are quite right. You must be very intelligent."
"That is true. May I ask what you had for breakfast?"
"You may."
"What did you have for breakfast?"
"Dead things."
Ah, that explains it, as we come into child's pose and the room lets out a cacophony of toots.
Does anyone else have imaginary dialogue with people they see or meet?
"Excuse me, you just farted."
"Why, yes, I did. I just now realize that as I bring both of my legs from out behind my head."
"Oh, well you farted again as you came out of your pose."
"You are quite right. You must be very intelligent."
"That is true. May I ask what you had for breakfast?"
"You may."
"What did you have for breakfast?"
"Dead things."
Ah, that explains it, as we come into child's pose and the room lets out a cacophony of toots.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I Wanted
To look back on my pregnancy as a joyful, happy, exciting time. And it was for me, because I was doing the most amazing thing in the world, and I loved it, I felt special and important and natural.
But I was let down. I wanted for us to look at eachother in wonder and amazement when the baby kicked, I wanted to celebrate 20 weeks and then the beginning of the third trimester. I wanted back rubs and foot rubs, I wanted to go on walks and hold hands and talk about our upcoming life with baby. I wanted us to plan the nursery together and have long talks about names and how we would raise her. I wanted us to cuddle up together in the winter and keep eachother warm, and to relax in the sun together in the summer; to picnic and laugh and be excited about life. I wanted, each week, to read together what was happing inside me, how big she was, what development was happening.
But I was alone. He shut down and wanted nothing to do with it. So I dreamt alone, I celebrated within, I lay holding my belly, feeling her kick, and smiled to myself. I fantasized about what she would look like, act like, smell like. I spent hours alone in the house washing and folding and refolding her tiny clothes, organizing her nursery, preparing for her arrival. I went to yoga each week to get away from him and be around other women who were pregnant too, and at least partially understood. Pregnancy can be isolating, and he made it so much more so.
And I had her, and we didn't look in eachother's teary eyes in amazement at what WE did. We looked at eachother, but it wasn't there. But I looked at her with joy and amazement, and she made me. She began me- who I am now, who I've always meant to be.
He went back to work, and I took care of her. I read the books, did the research, made the choices. I created her nap schedule, her feedings, took her to her doctor's appointments, watched her development. He waited to be told what was going on. He followed, or agreed from a distance.
He was never there, in body or mind. He was never a part of it all. He let it happen from a distance, and reaped the benefits.
I wanted a family who rejoiced in the tiny wonders, who grew old together, who made more children, built a house in which they would grow up, went on vacations together, marveled at their love for one another and their amazing children.
But you can't, you don't, always get what you want. You rarely have happily ever after, and you certainly can't let someone else make your happiness. But you can make it yourself, and you can find it within.
But I was let down. I wanted for us to look at eachother in wonder and amazement when the baby kicked, I wanted to celebrate 20 weeks and then the beginning of the third trimester. I wanted back rubs and foot rubs, I wanted to go on walks and hold hands and talk about our upcoming life with baby. I wanted us to plan the nursery together and have long talks about names and how we would raise her. I wanted us to cuddle up together in the winter and keep eachother warm, and to relax in the sun together in the summer; to picnic and laugh and be excited about life. I wanted, each week, to read together what was happing inside me, how big she was, what development was happening.
But I was alone. He shut down and wanted nothing to do with it. So I dreamt alone, I celebrated within, I lay holding my belly, feeling her kick, and smiled to myself. I fantasized about what she would look like, act like, smell like. I spent hours alone in the house washing and folding and refolding her tiny clothes, organizing her nursery, preparing for her arrival. I went to yoga each week to get away from him and be around other women who were pregnant too, and at least partially understood. Pregnancy can be isolating, and he made it so much more so.
And I had her, and we didn't look in eachother's teary eyes in amazement at what WE did. We looked at eachother, but it wasn't there. But I looked at her with joy and amazement, and she made me. She began me- who I am now, who I've always meant to be.
He went back to work, and I took care of her. I read the books, did the research, made the choices. I created her nap schedule, her feedings, took her to her doctor's appointments, watched her development. He waited to be told what was going on. He followed, or agreed from a distance.
He was never there, in body or mind. He was never a part of it all. He let it happen from a distance, and reaped the benefits.
I wanted a family who rejoiced in the tiny wonders, who grew old together, who made more children, built a house in which they would grow up, went on vacations together, marveled at their love for one another and their amazing children.
But you can't, you don't, always get what you want. You rarely have happily ever after, and you certainly can't let someone else make your happiness. But you can make it yourself, and you can find it within.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
It's Satuday, I'm at my mom's, and it has been snowing for the last 31 hours, give or take. I've been here since Wednesday night, and it doesn't look like I'm leaving anytime soon.. Circumstances, ever changing, have brought me here, and here it looks like I'll stay, at least until I leave for NJ. This is okay. This is not a big surprise to me, nor is it too painful for me; it would have been both a year ago, but today, I am so different, and my life is so different, so much has changed, that now I am more excited, hopeful, anticipating, than anything else. Scared, of course. Anxious, slightly. But let me be honest with myself, for once, finally. This was bound to happen. I was bound to end up breaking up with Alessandro.
It was just never right.
We were never right. I think the beginning was fine because he liked the idea of me, and I liked the idea of him, and we thought together we were ideal, but there was no way we were going to last. And the good little liar I am, I lied, lied, lied to myself about him and who he is and how he treats me and why. And I got pregnant, and it got worse, and I almost left and didn't, it got better, then worse, and worse, and I started to see things the way they were. I started to LET myself see things, and I stopped lying to myself, and my tolerance level just fell through the floor.
I feel stupid. I really do. Why have I, for so long, been okay with everything, and made excuses, and lied to myself? Enough.
What's the point? I am not going to sit around and feel sorry for myself and wish that I had been different, because I did what I had to do, or thought I had to do, to get through things. And I'm through it now, and I'm moving on. I'm done with him. I'm done letting him trample every last bit of me to the floor, and smother me into indifference. Trying to make me into something else. Trying to shape me to his mold. Resenting every move I make, criticizing every choice, making me feel stupid, insecure, unsure, ugly. I am just done.
This is about me, and Tessa; wanting a nice life, fewer worries, being able to raise my daughter without two parents who hate eachother.
But enough about that.
It's snowing, and I have a great family and great friends, a beautiful baby and a wonderful pup.
It was just never right.
We were never right. I think the beginning was fine because he liked the idea of me, and I liked the idea of him, and we thought together we were ideal, but there was no way we were going to last. And the good little liar I am, I lied, lied, lied to myself about him and who he is and how he treats me and why. And I got pregnant, and it got worse, and I almost left and didn't, it got better, then worse, and worse, and I started to see things the way they were. I started to LET myself see things, and I stopped lying to myself, and my tolerance level just fell through the floor.
I feel stupid. I really do. Why have I, for so long, been okay with everything, and made excuses, and lied to myself? Enough.
What's the point? I am not going to sit around and feel sorry for myself and wish that I had been different, because I did what I had to do, or thought I had to do, to get through things. And I'm through it now, and I'm moving on. I'm done with him. I'm done letting him trample every last bit of me to the floor, and smother me into indifference. Trying to make me into something else. Trying to shape me to his mold. Resenting every move I make, criticizing every choice, making me feel stupid, insecure, unsure, ugly. I am just done.
This is about me, and Tessa; wanting a nice life, fewer worries, being able to raise my daughter without two parents who hate eachother.
But enough about that.
It's snowing, and I have a great family and great friends, a beautiful baby and a wonderful pup.
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