What day is it?
Due to different circumstances coming together - for some moving, for others becoming a toddler - my life seems to have become one long, long day. Every morning when I wake up, I know exactly what's to come. There will be the making of the meal and the cleaning up of the dishes, then some changing of diapers, then some playing with toys, then some removing the child from the phone and the entertainment center, then some distracting with the toys, then some more removing of the child from the phone and the entertainment center. There will be screaming and crying. Then there will be the reading of the books and the napping. - This is the time I will enjoy some freedom which if I'm lucky I will use for having coffee and if I'm not I will use for rejuvenating tasks like cleaning or paying bills. - Then there will be the waking up and some more playing with toys and removing the child from the phone and the entertainment center. Sometimes there are errands to run, which will include crying in the car and crying in the shopping cart, dealing with child getting up in the shopping cart, chasing walking child and some more crying when desired objects happen not to be in the desired position in the child's hand. There will be more meal preparation and removing of the objects involved in consumption of the meal and then there is the last stretch of playing with toys and removing of the child from... you know and then there will be bedtime and some freedom after that and then there is bedtime for me and as I fall asleep I can hear the rewind button resetting my life to repeat the same day again tomorrow.
Oh woe is me. I love my child and I hadn't loved any "real" job (bwahahahaha) I've ever had in my life, but THE MONOTONY of the full-time motherhood. Dear god, the monotony. This is the most challenging unchallenging job you can ever imagine. The lack of challenge is the challenge. It's the ultimate test. Of patience, of endurance, of brain-starvation. When did my life become this long long waiting line? I know it all leads to something but never has the final goal seemed so removed. I feel like I'm making a puzzle, no, actually, a mozaic (at least in a puzzle you have the final picture as a motivator) with tiny, tiny, tiny pieces and every day I place one and the rest of the time is filled with waiting and more waiting. I feel all I do all day is resetting things. I'm the machine that lifts the pins in the bowling alley, over and over. I wash the same clothes, I wash the little dishes that are used too soon again to be put in the dishwasher. I prepare everything so it can be used and dirtied and made into a mess and then I go and re-set it. (I am the master of the metaphors. Admit!)
There are days when I am so bored. I try to dream of what I would do if I could right now and I can't come up with anything. It's like my brain has turned to such mush that it can't sum up the energy to imagine something else. Or - which is more likely - I am just tired and a nap at a scheduled, guaranteed time would eliminate much of this fog.
In case you are worried now that I'm depressed: Wrong. I am not. I am just bored and tired. In case you see this as proof that kids ruin your life: Wrong, but the maintanence of human beings is expensive and the expense is you, the parent. That's just how it is. The stuff they grow on has got to come from somewhere. I should've seen it coming when I spent a month in bed because my just conceived child was feasting on my calories and hormones and whatnot. And here she is, feasting on my time, my freedom and my energy. All I have left is my little pool of self-pity. And coffee and Oprah at naptime.
We are so cool.
Heather and Jon post their respective how-we-met-stories. Hmm... I wonder where I've seen that before. Maybe here and here? What? You say they just happened to have the same idea? Yeah? Weeelll. It's not that easy, you know, it took us 10 YEARS to come up with that stuff. Yeah, well, we weren't married then, so? We just thought of it WAY before. We are so totally blog-avantgarde.
Posted at 07:57 AM on August 25, 2004Buddy Jesus? No way.
With moving far away comes the tedious task of finding new things. Things like grocery stores, banks, gyms and... churches. Lincoln and I are back to church shopping and it's not been going so well. We were pleasantly surprised that there are many many Catholic churches in and around Danbury, but after testing Sunday mass in 4 of them, we are getting a little discouraged. The problem is, that too many pastors feel the need to "improve" services or at least make them much more appealing and apropriate for the average church-goer - according to their opinion of course.
Catholic mass has a set liturgy, so there are few variations on the theme. The service consists of prayers, hymns and readings, all in an already given order and there is not much room for change, except for the decision on what hymns will be sung and who will read what. I like that. Wherever you go in the world, you will find the same service you attend at home, so even if you don't understand the language, you will be able to follow because you know what's happening. To me, this is a beautiful sign of unity and universality and apart from that it gives room for meditation - because you're never confused about what's to come and you can deepen your prayers through the repetition.
Now, the homily is the only time that is basically free to improvise. Well, not really, but it's easy to break the rules on this one, because there are no instructions on what is to be said. So, when we visit the new church, I do just fine the first 20 minutes, but then I start cringing, getting a little nervous... and there it is, the homily. What will it be? A thoughtful lecture on the scripture passage or an opportunity to finally turn this dreadfully unfun service into a fun, happy performance with jokes, songs and ah, SO FUNNY anecdotes!
Yikes. See, I don't like fun in church. Yeah, you heard me. I DON'T LIKE FUN IN CHURCH. I can have fun any time of the day, any day of the week. I can turn on the TV: FUN! I can get together with my friends: FUN! I can chase Digby around the table: FUN FUN FUN! But in church, no fun for me. I want the peace, the reverence, the simple meditation on the reading. Why do priests think we need to be entertained? There are a million distractions I can use every day to forget about my problems, my relationships, my failures. In church, I want to find some direction, some guidance, some encouragement and comfort. That's not boring to me, I find it very interesting, very very much so. I need it. I really need it. Don't make me sing "Happy Birthday" to a 12-year-old with a funny hat on during your homily. Please, just say something that will help me get through next week. Say something, that will help me have more faith, feel more loved, see more meaning. I don't want a joke, I just want some truth.
There are priests who are openly rebellious and will implement their "improvements" beyond the homily. They will switch stuff around, change the wording, add something, skip something, they are smarter than aaall the people of the last 2000 years of church history combined. And then there are those who are not so daring, they will just use their homily slot as free ad-lib time. They have a nervous laugh - and they use it a lot. They want you to like them, so they make it fun, because, well, you couldn't possibly be mature enough, or interested enough or religious enough that you would seriously want to sit through a whole homily without one funny joke or a silly party hat. Let's hear it for Jesus everybody! Yaaaaay!
After I get mad, I get sad. And a little hopeless. I didn't think I was asking too much. What does it say about me when I feel more at home at a Portuguese mass where I don't understand one single word, than at an English-speaking one where I just don't understand the "entertainment"?
Posted at 01:46 PM on August 20, 2004 | Comments (5)All Done
Veronika is weaned. I must admit it was through my encouragement. She also didn't seem to mind though, so that makes me a little less of a selfish and heartless mother.
It's funny how that happens. I was determined to nurse when she was born and I was lucky it worked out so well but to be honest, I was not happy when I realized how much time, energy and effort was involved (except for the eating, that was not so cumbersome). I couldn't believe this was going to go on for months and months... I suppose it didn't help that back then I barely got any sleep. In addition to that my "physique" had changed and I was desperate to go back to my previous shape but it soon became clear it wasn't going to work without weaning first.
And so. I nursed. With my curves a little bigger than I liked them but with a very happy bubbly baby. In fact, so happy and bubbly that after a few months I liked nursing and the effort it took grew smaller or so it seemed. So when the 12-month-mark was approaching, the time I was looking forward to being able to wean and my daughter would hopefully be ready to give it up, I looked for my huge sigh of relief and whatdoyouknow it was a sigh of sadness.
Nevertheless I tried to at least reduce the feedings a little and seeing Veronika had no complaints I went ahead and stopped nursing alltogether (not before I had reduced the feedings to one a day). Without planning though I had tricked myself a little, by doing the last nursing session without knowing it was the last one. I just thought I'd take a one-day-break which then turned into a week, and now almost two. All of a sudden, here we are, weaned from each other. It was over before I could do a big mourning fest and at the same time it gave me the confirmation that it was the right time to stop. My breasts are not convinced though. They're still unchanged, full, waiting. I suppose it makes sense. They're thinking it could just be a temporary separation, so they just hang on and keep this milk ready "just in case". Luckily they're not hurting me. Those times are over. Until the next baby of course... which will be much much... MUCH later. Right?
I find myself tempted to offer the breast again, but I know it would be just for my own reasons. Just to have "that feeling" one more time. That's when I try to imagine myself with my regular-sized bust and 10lbs lighter and wearing that skirt I haven't worn in almost two years and I'm cured. I make sure Veronika is happy without breasts in her life... Unless giving kisses to her favorite book is a sign of depression, she must be.
I am free to pursue my vain dreams of looking like myself again!
Posted at 03:06 PM on August 17, 2004 | Comments (4)Do you want to see...
... Veronika taking her first steps? Go over to her links page and click on the most recent of the videos!
Posted at 08:16 AM on August 16, 2004More about TV. (I know. Please bear with me.)
So now that I have cable I am able to watch all the 532 makeover shows on a daily basis. I used to like makover shows but as in so many cases over-indulgence brings the negative aspects to light. I get so annoyed with the same old "Ohmigod you look sewwww amaaayzing!"
I want a makeover show that says the implied:"You were so dull-looking before, you had 0 style! But now! Now you are so pretty and so sexy and so, so desirable! You are such a better person! How could anyone have cared for you the way you were before? Look at your butt, your boobs and your hair - we have pointed them out with this amazing outfit and now you will finally be noticed. You GOTTA get noticed. If nobody notices you it means you're not pretty, and fun, and likeable. You also need to be liked. LIKED. Nobody likes regular people. Now that we made you over, you are finally worth some attention!"
I love it too, how the hair always has to get colored. Natural hair color is just naturally dull. Everyone looks beautifuller as a blond or a redhead. Just change it already. Say hello to the NEW you! Then the lucky subjects get to meet the friends/family/whoever and everybody is so relieved that they're not ugly anymore and love the red or the blond hair and the low-cut shirt.
Oh, just imagine the fun - if they did "The honest makeover show": "We asked a few friends and relatives to tell us what they really didn't like about you and what you could change to be more likeable." - "My wife's alright, but boy, would I love her more if she had more eyeshadow!"
I totally need a life.
Posted at 02:55 PM on August 11, 2004So where was I?
So my baby turned one (you can watch her say it on her links page) and here I am with a toddler, trying to set up my usual glamorous life in a new place and I I must tell you she's not making it easy on me. I couldn't tell you if it's the ferocious crawling or the grabbing of things like the phone, the dog's bowl and the opening of the cabinets or the demanding screaming when her wishes are not being paid attention to. I don't know why I continue working for her, it doesn't really fit my lifestyle.
I am still setting up house and it's sort of coming together but not fast enough for my taste. Some stuff can't be set up before we buy new furniture and that will take a while so there's all this unfinished stuff and these boxes and... See, I like things in order. I have discovered a long time ago that to be able to have a sense of control and order in my head, I need order and control around me. I had a hard time studying in college if my room was a mess. Even when I sit down at the computer and the desk is full of some stupid little insignificant clutter, I have to move it around or at least put it in a neat pile before I can start typing. What is that? Major or minor compulsiveness? I like to hear the washer or dryer running, it makes me feel like order is being made - I feel a boost in my thinking capacities. I feel productive. But now I have this permanent sense of temporality and the demand for order cannot be met and it's messing with my head. I want to organize the new place to enable proper brain function, but then I think, no, I can't make Veronika's curtains before I have decided what colors her room will be and I can't put up pictures in the living room before we buy the necessary furniture and ... then I realize that even if I had all the colors and the shelves I would still have a toddler who would interrupt me every 5 minutes and who has no concept of order whatsoever. So I resign myself to maintaining the status quo and watching cable tv. Yes, I am back to 21st-century-tv-equipment - our house antenna doesn't work here. I'm back, Baby Story!
Out of context
I will proceed with the mushy feelings on my daughter's birthday events in a bit, but in the meantime I have to post this link, 'cause it's just too accurate:
Posted at 01:03 PM on August 05, 2004 | Comments (2)Remember 1 year ago today...
My life was turned upside down and I couldn't be happier because of it. Click here to go to her site and leave a Birthday message.
Posted at 08:36 AM on August 03, 2004So what is it like?
Better than Valpo. Well, in my eyes anyway. To be honest, I don't know much about Danbury yet. I do know that I have neighbors from all over the globe and that they are not all white. I know that there are hills and not just flat corn fields. I know I'm 90 driving minutes from NYC and 10 minutes from a mall (that has H&M!!!). So far, those are all advantages. They might not be all my priorities, but they don't hurt. Our greatest opportunity in this area is its size and diversity.
Leaving Valparaiso was strange. We drove off at dusk with this enormous sunset and dramatic colors in the sky - it was strangely pictoresque. I was excited and scared. My entire American life I spent in NW Indiana and this was like moving to a different country. I don't think I will miss living in Valpo, but I will be able to return to fond memories... the newlywed life, the struggles of a bad job, the friendships, the birth of my daughter and of course my first time at Wal-mart.
I am excited about living here. It feels good to start things new. Even Digby is a better dog! Wish us luck, y'all. (as James would say)
Posted at 07:02 PM on August 02, 2004 | Comments (2)