Someday when I grow up, I want to be...

I have a whole list of things that I want to be someday, you know, when I grow up. In fact, back in high school, when everyone kept asking me the million dollar question, I was convinced that I wanted to be a nutritionist or a dietician. But, I was even more convinced that I was going to go to Manchester College. Basically, those two convictions didn't match up. MC definitely doesn't offer anything along the lines of nutrition/dietetics. MC won, and none the worse off was I. I went with what is probably my more natural love--English. As I look back on some pretty serious choices that I've made, career-wise, I scoff at my ability to make these decisions. Why did I want to be a nutritionist/dietician? Because I like food. Why did I want to go into English? Because I had an awesome English teacher who made me think that I knew something about the subject. (By way way, contrary to what is perhaps popular myth...just because you like English doesn't mean that you're a) good at grammar or b) that you ever learned grammar or c) that you even now know the rules of grammar.) Decision made. MC bound I was with a determination to learn more English. Reading books is how I like to spend my homework time. Studying and memorizing facts is not.

I definitely was NOT going to teach when I crossed the portal of my first English class at Manchester. No way. My mom was a teacher and people assume that I would thus want to also be a teacher and really what else do English people do but teach and seriously, aren't you also going to be a teacher??? NO. Pressure from the parentals perhaps helped changed my thinking there. Sophomore year found me shadowing real, honest to goodness, living, breathing English teachers in surrounding schools, hating every second of the time I had to sit at the back of the classroom and watch someone else teach. Nevertheless, I felt okay about my decision. Really, it was something of a part-time job in my mind until I got to do what I really wanted to do. WHAT DO I REALLY WANT TO DO?

My when-I-grow-up-someday-this-is-what-I-want-to-do list currently includes:
1. barista...good news, I may have a chance to actually do this over the summer
2. nutritionist...I still am somewhat interested in this for one of my other personalities
3. pastry chef
4. owner of a baseball bar, especially one that doesn't cater to Cubs or Yankees fans
5. bed & breakfast proprietor
6. owner of a coffee shop/bakery/bookstore
7. various positions in academia
8. director of the study abroad program at MC...my current dreamiest dream job
9. editor

In the meantime, I'm trying to get ready to return to my classroom since May 22nd, 2009. It's been a while. I feel rusty. I'll essentially be a sub in my own class. And, I've never had ANY of these kids, which is really something of an oddity for this point in my career. How does one prepare for this? In thinking about how I'm going to handle my job with my daughter, I've kinda realized that I have another dream job that I never never never knew I wanted to do until relatively recently.

My ultimate dream job? Stay at home mom. With some sort of freelance something thrown in for good measure.

I know that I'll miss this someday, but not right now.

4:07--First wake-up call. Baby wake up sounds, including a variety of squeals, grunts, and moan-ish/grumbly sounds.
4:09--Bathroom.
4:10--Sneak into Abby's room in hopes that she isn't really awake and my presence won't subsequently wake her up. Alas. She's already standing up watching and waiting expectantly. Sigh.
4:11-4:28--Change diaper. It's really full. Try to soothe child back into a somnolent state conducive to sleeping.
4:29--Leave room. Shut door firmly. Vow to not re-enter unless child is inconsolable.
4:29--Immediately re-enter room. Turn on music. Cross fingers that this works.
4:30--Ease back into bed. It's now cold. Become even more awake. Try to wedge legs back into position around cat. Cat halfheartedly blinks and goes back to her wheezy slumber.
4:30 through 5:00--Turn down monitor so that lullaby music does not blare into my room. Lay there thinking "Is the monitor turned up enough so that I can hear Abby if she cries?" Alternate between fiddling with monitor, hoping that baby makes noise so that you know you can hear her, and hoping that baby does not make noise so that you know she went back to sleep whereupon you can go back to sleep. Conundrum.
5:00--Glare at the clock. Know that it's only 1/2 an hour until the alarm goes off. Wonder why you bother.
5:03--Notice that the child has not made noise for a few minutes. Hold your breath for a moment. Then realize that you need to go to sleep. Now. While you have the chance.
5:04--Desperately wish for the furnace to turn on. Desperately hope for any hum that will drown out the sound of husband's breathing. Sigh. Tear up. Sigh again. You know that you can't request husband to not breath, but at the same time...you desperately want to go back to sleep. Furnace starts. You realize that you only have 6 minutes to fall asleep. Effort begins in earnest.
5:30--Alarm goes off. You did, indeed, fall back asleep. What a lovely 25 minutes that was.
5:35--Husband sluggishly rolls out of bed while grating sounds of the alarm clock continue to wake you up more and more. Sigh again.
5:36--Roll over. You can finally sleep on your left side since heavy-breather is no longer there.
5:37--Hum of the shower. Lulls you back to sleep. Bliss.
5:49--Clothes are thrown willy nilly on your feet. Husband is oblivious.
6:00--Wake up call. Go away. 6:30 is fine. Want to turn over onto right side, but refuse to on the grounds that you haven't been able to sleep on left side all night and now is your only chance.
6:30--Wake up call. Fine.
7:07--Overslept.

This has been my basic schedule since Feb. 2nd. Teeth, please pop through so that little bean stops waking up at 4 am and I can sleep like a normal person again. Please.

Snow days!

Tuesday was a snow day! And it was a glorious snow, too. Perfect opportunity to take Abby out to learn how to make snowballs and how to throw snowballs for the first time. So we did. Here's how it went down.

First, we had to put on our layers. This was somewhat confusing.



Next, Mommy and Abby tried to do easy things like eat snow. Baby steps to become acclimated. This was received favorably, for a while.



Next, we tried something a bit more challenging--sitting in the snow.


This was not well liked. Abby cried. (Mommy & Daddy giggled, just a little.)


And, seriously, we had to try snow angels. This was also a cause for much weeping. Mommy & Daddy giggled again.



Mommy tries to show Abby that snow is not all bad. Abby didn't believe Mommy.



Abby didn't much believe Daddy, either, but was at least accepting of her fate.

But then Daddy made the mistake of plunking Abby in the snow again. More weeping.


More consoling. Next time, we don't try such monumental adventures right before nap time when our tummy is hungry.

"When snow falls, nature listens." Antoinette van Kleeff

Recap

I haven't felt like I've had much to relay lately, so here's a quick run-down of some funny (or not so much) anecdotes of the past couple of weeks. Or, at least ones that I can remember.

DISCLAIMER: I love using incomplete sentences for emphasis (see previous sentence), but when I do, I often feel like I have to also give a disclaimer that yes, I now it's incomplete. I'm really not that lousy at grammar. There you go, a general disclaimer for my whole blog.

I'm currently and frantically working my way through my 2nd baby blanket in a set of two for a friend who is having twins. I wouldn't be quite so frantically working on it if I had been able to decide if I was going to actually do it. She's a high school friend of Ben's, so I feel like my involvement in her babies' births might be a bit...hmmm...stalkerish. But we're friends, too. But I also know that we had lots of lovely people who just randomly gave us little gifts before and after Abby was born, people who I didn't know except by name, and they were always appreciated. And then I thought that she's having twins for goodness sake. She needs love and support. So I shall try to do so in my own little way without appearing to be stalkerish. This is really something of a worry with me frequently.

It's funny how clothing becomes so disposable when faced with a poopy, naked baby who just peed on her changing table (twice) while trying to clean up the first mess by removing the diaper. That was fun.

I can't figure out how to close Abby's new stroller. She's graduated out of the original infant car seat that is fantastic because you just clip her in and out of the car but oh so heavy once she packs on 10 pounds. So I now have a fully unfolded Trevi stroller in the back of my Mountaineer. I blessed my little old bug of a car yesterday when I realized that I could just pop it in the back unfolded rather than trying to wrestle it closed in the middle of the parking lot in order to wedge it into the Honda.

Ben decided (I agreed, this isn't exactly a dictatorship) that we need to sell the truck after all. 2 tows and about $700 later, it's sell-able. Which means that Ben is driving my car. And, I adamantly will continue to call it my car until it's the only vehicle that Ben has to drive. I realize that possession is very much an issue for me.

I'ts really hard for me to lose weight. I'm rather stuck about 10 lb. heavier than my pre-Abby body maintained, and no matter how many grapefruit and pears I eat, it doesn't really seem to get any better. Sigh.

I have, however, also discovered the joys of quinoa and couscous. Yum. Granted, this hasn't been a discovery since the last time I posted anything.

I'm so ready to be done with my Masters. It bites a bit. I look forward to the day when I can again choose my own reading. And trust you me, it won't be a modernist biography/memoir like "The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas" (by Gertrude Stein...ironic) or "Being Geniuses Together" (by Robert McAlmon and Kay Boyle...incidentally, I prefer Kay Boyle's portions much more than Robert McAlmon's).

Speaking of biting...will Abby's top teeth ever come in? She's been a champ enduring it all for the entire week. And, we're so ready to be done with it. Come on already!

I'm going back to work in 3 1/2 weeks now. Sigh. There are benefits--many fewer diaper changes (unless I hit a snag with some freshman; crossing my fingers on that one). But then again, I'd much rather change Abby's diapers if that mean that I could stay home with her every day. Someone figure out how I can be paid to watch my own daughter.

I'm going dress shopping for a bridesmaid dress with my sis-in-law and her maid of honor tomorrow. Sounds like jolly times. Please let the snow be a non-factor.

I plan on making a chocolate cream torte tonight to celebrate my mom-in-law's b-day and the aforementioned sis-in-law's b-day. I love tortes. They may be second only to cake in my opinion. And, some tortes are like cake, which is basically fantastic no matter how you slice it (ba da ching!).

Ben bought a laptop this week for himself. That means that we now have three computers (along with three vehicles). Excessive??? Good reasons for all. Hopefully, he'll be able to get rid of his old computer and we'll condense it down to a respectable his-and-hers set. I'm glad that he didn't decide to get the green one.

Ben got a laptop because he's going to be starting his own Masters degree this year. Maybe this summer. Sigh. Will this ongoing bettering-ourselves-through-education process never end? The light at the end of the tunnel: Ben is setting himself up to make two times as much money as he ever could as a teacher; Amy just thinks that $10,000 is a cheap price to read good books (the aforementioned two notwithstanding).

I love lattes, maybe my favorite beverage ever. And, if I so desired, I could purchase a ceramic mug that is made to resemble the disposable cups that you get at a coffee place so that you can enjoy an earth friendly cup of joe while looking like you just spent some serious cash at your local Starbucks. I settled for a 24-oz. mug with LATTE splashed all over it. It holds a lot of latte.

"Man does not live by coffee alone. Have a danish." --Anonymous (true words that I can live by and continue to gain weight by, for that matter)

Surrealism

This is, alas, not a blog posting about Salvador Dali. Go to someone else's blog if you're pining to read about melting clocks and stark landscapes.

This is, however, a blog posting about how surreal my life is now. I certainly haven't done extensive poling on this topic, in fact, I have asked no one, but my hunch is that other newbie moms agree with me on my general feelings. So having a baby is pretty much just a surreal experience. There's the whole moment where you first come home from your hospital or birthing place of choice (or accident if you're the unlucky mom who gave birth in a car on the way to the hospital), and you hold you little one and look at him/her and think...um, what do I do now?

And then there's the moment where you're covered in baby slime of some variety and you're home alone and the only thing that you can think of doing is taking pictures to document the moment for your husband who is at work, which allows you to stay home.

But let us also not forget the first time that you roll your newly equipped family vehicle into some parking lot of some brick building somewhere and are suddenly immersed in a sea of other young mothers who are pulling car seats, squirming children, and all of that paraphernalia out of their family vehicles, mostly SUVs, for a mommy & baby group/play date, and you look around and think, "Well, I must be at the right place."

Seriously, I keep running into these moments where I mentally pause sheerly out of some surrealist understanding that yes, I have a baby and yes, that means that my world is different. Yes, you hear this all of the time when you're uber prego and people, mostly middle aged women, look at you with some devilish look in their glinting eyes, and smirk "Your life is going to be sooooo different." As if I didn't know that. I confess wholeheartedly here that I have caught myself almost uttering the same cliche phrase to other expectants before I stop and think, "Eww, I will not be like that."

But dang it, my life *is* different. And I knew that when pondering this whole caboodle of change, but still, really, I never much thought about the whole physical aspect of having a child. I thought about me and me only. It was fairly impossible for me to visual some little person inside of me, so I gave that up and was lovely-y surprised when she popped out and it turned out that she wasn't as ugly as I expected. Yay. But still, that was the farthest that my thought processes had really processed.

For example, I was standing in the kitchen today munching on/sharing a pear with my cuter-than-expected child, and I suddenly realized that someday I would have a four-year old. I have a picture of my four-year old niece on the fridge to prove that yes, indeed, they do grow up to be that age if all of the stars align properly. I'm expecting the stars to be in my favor on this one.

How surreal is that. I'm going to be in charge of a four-year old someday? I'm going to have this little walking, talking helper someday. For real? I stopped a moment in my pear munching and pondered this possibility. What will it be like? I don't know. I really can't figure this out. It's much like trying to figure out what she'd look like before she popped out and introduced herself, quite vocally, I might add.

My life has story time at the library and weekly weigh-in sessions now. I have a backpack that is always on stand-by, which I can almost always grab at a moments notice as I dash out the door and will guarantee that I will be prepared for many a situation. I have a stylishly new gray carseat that beckons every time I look in the rear view mirror now. I have essentially lost all driving privileges for my beloved Honda to Ben so that I can have the family car with me all day. I have learned who to ask for advice and where my sharing boundaries are. I have beat a path through the baby clothes clearance section at Target every time I am there. I have looked at other friends' baby wish lists when they are expecting and surveyed it with a critical eye, spotting things that look useful but are really just a waste of money. I have started hoarding clearance toys for next birthdays.

And perhaps most importantly, I have looked forward with eager anticipation to all milestones while shedding a silent tear for every step that has permanently passed in my child's life. I still don't know what it's going to be like with my favorite baby in the next few days, months, or years. But if I can base it on what has happened so far, then life will be richly blessed indeed.

the age old English grad student question

What do I write my paper on? (Or, on what do I write my paper? depending on who you are talking with and how formal you feel like being.)

Seriously. This question single handedly re-opens the ulcers from the last semester that were just beginning to heal from the stresses that repeatedly recur over and over. About what should my paper be? Let's explore some options.

1. Gender. A lovely topic. In fact, so lovely that I write about this in some fashion basically every semester, for every class. I'm not a doctoral student who has been lurking on campus for upwards of 5 or 6 years yet, but still, after 8 classes (this semester being my 9th), I'm ready for a change of pace. Which, really, is saying something. This is my bread and butter topic, one that I always feel comfortable exploring and one that I know that I sound like I know what I'm talking about.

2. Race. Really, I'm more over this topic than gender. I think that I was pretty much over this option before I started college. Undergrad even.

3. Patriarchy/patriarchal control. Cheater...this is a subtopic of gender.

4. Politics and economics. This one is a non-choice in my opinion. I cannot dig into capitalism and Marxism and totalitarianism with any feeling of security. In my younger and foolish(er) days, last semester that is, I thought "You know, I've been hanging around people who converse in this language (politics & economics) long enough. I should be able to use these terms as well." So I tried. And I failed. Nevermore (quote the Amy-raven).

And therein lies the list because really, everything else is just a sub-topic of #1, #2 or #4. And therein lies my problem. I only have option #1. What to do, what to do?

And just to make the honey pot of indecision a little stickier, this semester is focused heavily (heavily heavily) on poetry & Modernism, i.e. poetry in the Modern era. Oh snap...two of my least least least favorite genre/periods! Dare I say without a doubt my least favorite?

What to DO!?!

Is this where it starts to get expensive?

I just spent $220-something at Meijer this afternoon. Oh MY goodNess!! For the first four years of our marriage, I averaged somewhere around $60/week in groceries. For the past year, I've been averaging around $80 with several $100/week thrown in for good measure. These make me weep. $220-plus is making me weep, gnash my teeth, rend my clothing, and smear ashes on myself, and wear sackcloth. And, worse worse worse, I only spent $10 on one non-"grocery" item, or otherwise what I would term something that I would not normally buy in a typical grocery expedition. Why the expense?

ABBY. And my cats. And our desperate need for toilet paper. But mostly Abby.

I remember a few weeks after when my first niece was born, my brother made a comment that she wasn't too expensive yet. And I remember thinking, "Gee, maybe babies aren't as expensive as I thought." Oh not so. My brother's idea of expensive is vastly different than mine, I've discovered.

Abby is 7 months old now and a firmly established eater of solid foods. These little jars and containers of pureed goodies are surprisingly expensive. A week's worth of food for her adds up quickly, especially now that she's snacking (I call them poofies) on puffs and melts and yogurt and such.

Breastfeeding has not been easy and is virtually non-existent for us now. This has been a tremendous struggle for us for about 2 months now and has resulted in at least two meltdowns (for me) and hours of fruitless effort culminating in no results. But what this also means is that part of that uber-painful $220 today was $50 worth of formula. It's not just that I'd prefer to not have to use formula, but the cost just rubs salt in the wounds. I used to recycle these formula coupons willy-nilly back when I got them by the fistful in the first couple of months. I wish I had them now.

Another issue is that everything seems to be falling apart right now. Ben's truck (which still doesn't really work). Our light in the living room. The trash can. The nightlight. Granted, these aren't all super expensive, but seriously...uncle.

And, I decided to really make the effort to support organic efforts this year, call it a New Year's resolution if you will, by consciously buying organic whenever possible within reason. This came about after purposefully visiting an organic food market in Carmel on New Year's Eve. Over the past year, specifically, I've been conscious about organic more and definitely have been buying more veggies & fruit, which, I daresay, you can see in the increase in our average grocery bill. As as much as it pains me to pay so much for fresh produce, I've said it before and I'll continue saying it, I won't jeopardize eating healthier just because of cost. Even on a reduced income this year, we are still blessed to have two solid jobs and there's no reason why we can't afford fresh peppers, even if they are $3.99/lb. (Seriously...stupid.)

This has also come about a bit because when I started buying solid foods for Abby, I a) started experimenting with making my own (check our freezer if you don't believe me) and b) buying organic, which is definitely more expensive. By the way...Tyler Florence (super chef cutie) has his own line of organic, and truly interesting flavor combos, baby food with an adorable picture of him and his little guy on the back of the packaging. It's kind of like giving Abby food that a super cutie chef prepared just for her!

Sidenote: I'm determined to introduce different flavors and combinations to my little munchkin than the standard apples & bananas than Gerber provides. Experiments so far--mango & spinach: yum; avocado: icky. We're still working on the avocado. Actually, fresh banana wasn't all that great either, though she was in a mood when we tried that one.

So my resolution is already being a bit tested. We're spending SOOOO much money right now, it seems easy to say "We'll just do organic later..." but no! Not today! Buy organic I did and buy fresh I continue to do!! Now, I need to decide what's reasonable. Organic flour? Organic sugar? Organic cayenne pepper? We'll see. Right now, I'm pretty darn excited about snagging 7 lb. of organic popcorn (bulk) for $1.19/lb. That's totally worth it. And, now I don't have to buy anymore popcorn for Ben until....March. He eats it a lot.