Monthly Archives: October 2008

FW:My Invented Chain Email

I sent this email to a bunch of people.  I’ve always wanted to start an email chain letter.  Even though I loathe them.  Here it is.  Feel free to copy and paste and claim it as your own:

Subject heading: I Forfeit My Magical Powers

I have magical powers over certain people.

Until recently, I did not know this.

Apparently, if I have a piece of banana bread, somebody, somewhere who is also eating banana bread can no longer enjoy it.

If I do a cartwheel, those same somebodies must fall down or something while they are trying to cartwheel.

If I earn a dollar, the dollar they just earned looses its meaning.

If I floss, it renders their flossing efforts useless.  Cavities and root canals abound.

If I get married, the vows these people have taken have been destroyed.  Mutilated.  Maligned.

If my kids get civil rights, the rights their kids have always had now taste like sour milk.

So here’s what I’m going to do: I give up this power.  I don’t want my happiness to any longer get in the way of the happiness of the members of the Christian Right (or anyone else) who are somehow inversely tied to me through this strange magic.  I forfeit it.  I give it up!  Enjoy your banana bread!  Spend your dollar happily!  Floss away!  And for goodness sake, live a long and happy life with the person you love and the blessings of your family and friends and any deity you want to freely worship in our country.  Enjoy those rights your family has always enjoyed.  Oh, and let me enjoy mine.

Please Vote NO on Proposition 8.  For the sake of all of our families and our banana bread.  If you don’t live in California, please send this to someone who does.

[oneofhismoms], mother of two and always a bridesmaid

Should we say good things will happen to you if you forward this email to ten registered California voters?



Filed under family, gay marriage, LGBT

A Banana In a Jello Mold

I don’t like to eat it, but I’ve always been fascinated a little by jello molds with fruit (even vegetables!?) suspended in them.  It always looks like the fruit was caught right in the middle of something and stuck there in time, except for the little wiggling it gets to do.  Like Hiro from the TV show, Heros was around and he stopped time.

That’s why I feel like a banana in a jello mold.  Being home with a baby means always being held mid-flight.  You can’t expect yourself to finish or even start anything.  If anything, those bananas must be zen.  How can they be anything but in the present moment?  I’m not saying this stuckness is a bad or good thing.  It is just a state I’m in.  So when I start to feel like it is a bad thing, I remind myself that I don’t have to be anywhere and I’m not working.  I make myself look at the baby.  Smile at him.  Get him to laugh.  Enjoy his fleeting babyness.  He’s my sweet and sticky reason for being right now.  I won’t ever get this much time with him again.  (Unless we decide to hike the Appalaichain Trail together or something like that some day.)

Stillness can be hard for a person like me.  I need to feel like each day has some kind of value.  So if I didn’t get to work on my book, or finish the laundry I started, or organize something, I feel antsy.  I really need to deeply understand the value that is holding my baby all day if he doesn’t want to be put down, or cuddling with him on a blanket on the floor.  I need to embrace my inner banana and enjoy the view from the jello mold.


Filed under my second son, nothing at all

The IRL Project

I have a new project.

Like everything I’ve done thus far post-partum, I’m keeping it simple:  spend more time with people face-to-face.

When my honey was home with Cakie, I was often jealous of her cafe time.  I imagined her sitting in our one neighborhood cafe, chatting the days away with the baby gurgling on her lap. Of course she did meet our childbirth class friends once a week at the cafe.  Much of the time was spent calming screaming babies.  The rest of the week was more loosey goosey.  A lot of it was spent not putting Cakie down, because he just wouldn’t have it any other way.

What have I done with my first three months of childcare leave? Besides feed, change, burp, calm, repeat? Update my status on Facebook.  Blog.  Write. Watch people give birth on TV.  Not so much real-life interaction. I do go to a playgroup once a week with both kids. I LOVE it because I like the other moms.  But that is pretty much it.

The need for this project became clear when I actually got to go out for dinner with two close childless friends.  All I had to talk about was links about Sarah Palin I’d seen on Facebook.  It was pretty sad.

I’m doing a good job so far.  I’ve set up cafe dates with one of my friends from playgroup who has a new baby, while her older one is in pre-school.  I have also hung out with another playgroup friend who has eight-month-old twins.  I even got to hang with Co and Jo this week! I’ve actually sat in the cafe with the baby gurgling on my lap. But the best thing has been meeting three new bloggers IRL.

Meeting bloggers IRL is always weird.

A mix between a blind date and meeting a movie star.  Sort of.  I mean you know so much about each other, except you’ve never heard her voice before.  She doesn’t know my face.  She’s only seen my baby from the side of his head.  Both of you are secretly worried that the other one is going to be a wacko.  I haven’t met a wacko blogger yet.  I mean, I’m sure they exist.  I just think it might be obvious from the wacko’s blog.  Anyway, I happily got the meet travelher and H and L from babypants this week.  It was a pleasure all around.  Trucker sat on travelher’s lap and gave her baby mojo.  Cakie developed a crush on L and dubbed her both a princess and a queen.  He showed them both his forward roll.  I gave them socks, blankets and baby tee shirts. I felt like I already knew them.

I feel like even those of you who are lurking, I know.  I know you because you are listening to me.  You are such good listeners.  Though I can’t see your faces, and Trucker’s not sitting on your laps, I’m glad when I’m not with someone face-to-face, I can be with you — what?  Fingers to eyes?  Screen to screen?  Whatever.  I’m glad you’re out there, even when I can’t see your eyes.


Filed under Uncategorized

This Ought to Be Good…

My brother has a blog! Aaaaaaaah!

He’s funnier than I am with a more bizarre sense of humor.  I always thought he’d end up on Saturday Night Live, but this has yet to come to fruition.

His blog is also more mulitsensory than mine.  The lastest post includes his own person re-mix of “Safety Dance.”

Check it out.


Filed under family

Babypushing 101: The Shiny New One

That’s what Cakie calls our Phil & Teds sport stroller with the doubles kit.

I’ve been drooling over this stroller for years.  At first, I was concerned that the child in the bottom seat doesn’t have a very good view, ie, his brother’s butt.  So I started to look at the kids I saw riding in this stroller.  The ones on the bottom always seemed pretty happy.  They were usually looking off to one side and seeming pretty cozy down there.  When I thought about it, I realized that the side is where you want to look anyway, because that’s where the scenery actually changes more often.

We got a sports car red one right before Trucker was born.  My mom bought it as our baby present.  (Thanks, Grandma.)

Here’s the thing, I love it, but we don’t use it as much as I’d like.

Here’s what I love:

  • AIR FILLED TIRES!  They are like butta.  They make the rocky terrain that is Brooklyn sidewalks more like floating in outer space.  The huge cracks and tree trunks don’t matter any more.  The ride is smooth and easy.  I can push with one finger.
  • Double stroller.  Ok, let’s preface this by saying that all double strollers have their drawbacks.  This one has one of the smallest footprints.  That is key for getting through the small spaces in NYC.  No, the kids can’t sit next to each other and bond. But they can’t sit next to each other and kick each other, either.
  • It’s pretty.  It is my prettiest stroller, for sure.
  • The basket is bigger than my Maclarens’ baskets.  No, that’s not saying much.  And it is difficult to access when somebody is in the bottom seat.  But still…

So why don’t you use it much?  Why indeed.

The boys don’t love it.  Cake does call it, “The shiny new one.”  He does get in and fasten himself in readily.  I don’t know why neither of them love to be in it for too long.  It could be that we have been over-ambitious about how long a time we can expect them to sit still in a stroller.

There are also a few cons:

  • It doesn’t fold easily.  In fact, I have no idea how to fold the thing.  My honey did it twice.  She’s clever, that one.
  • The basket, though biggish, could be easier to access.
  • The seat belt has four clasps!  Four!  How silly is that?  I don’t understand it.  And let me tell you, when you’re trying to get a kid to leave the playground, speed of stroller confinement is a real issue.  Luckily at this point, Cakie likes to fasten himeself in and usually recognizes when it is time to leave the playground.  Three-month-old Trucker never gives me any lip about leaving the playground, either.  But it doesn’t look good for a few months from now.

I’m going to assume that we’ve just been expecting too much in terms of length-of-ride in this stroller.  I’m going to press on with it until the boys like it as much as I do.

Next up for review: the Mac daddies — Maclaren Volo and Techno Classic XT.


Filed under baby gear

One Year Ago, Yesterday

I was at the end of my TTC rope.

I was ready to give up.

Maybe I would try one more time without drugs with a yet-unidentified fresh donor, but that was it.

I was ready to start begging my straight friends for just a little bit of their husbands’ baby juice.

I was so happy I already had Cakie.  Thinking about him being an only child.  We could send him to private school.  We could buy him fancy things.  I could get rid of all those clothes and baby things taking up space in the closet.  I was preparing myself to rationalize giving up.

One year ago yesterday, I had an insem with the doctor I didn’t much like.  I went alone.  My honey was skating on thin employment ice with the amount of time she’d taken off while we were TTC.

I was forced to take the whole day off from work.

I left the doctor’s office and bought some green tea from a coffee truck.

I walked through Central Park drinking my green tea, even though I was wearing new, rather uncomfortable shoes.  I walked to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I stared at Gala Eluard. I felt the cramps the whole time.  My ovaries had maybe even already released that egg.  My last-ever paid-for donor sperm was swimming swimming.  Some time during that walk through the museum or the park (at least I prefer to think it happened there, than on the subway) egg did finally meet sperm.  Finally.

Maybe only people like us celebrate the anniversary of conception.

I, for one, will never forget it.


Filed under IUI, NYC What is it about you?, the big guns, TTC

Dear Trucker, (3 months)

Dear Trucker,

Yes, those feet belong to you.  How cool are they?  Just stuck right there on the ends of your legs. Wow.

And toys?  Yes.  Those baby toys are yours as well.  Ok, so your brother still likes to play with them, too, especially the floor gym.  This month you’ve discovered toys.  And let me tell you,  Mommy and Mama still love toys.  I have accused your mama on several occasions of having kids so she could buy more toys.  That colorful cube with the bells inside and the rings hanging on the outside?  That is just the beginning, my son.

You have so much to say.  I’m looking forward to understanding your speech a bit better, but no rush.  For now ooooooaaaaaarrrrgggaa is just fine.  I’ve been half-seriously trying to get you to say, “I love you.”  It is all the rage on the internets.  And we have a lot of time together, so why not?  The funniest part about that is that your brother is trying too.  And sometimes when you say aaaaaaahhhhhhuuuuuuuhhhoooooo, your brother yells, “He said, ‘I love you’ to me!”

You have moved in to Cakie’s room at night.  Now it is “the boys’ room.”  Mommy and Mama sneak in a lot at night while you two are sleeping.  We can’t help it.  We are drawn to the cuteness that is two sleeping boys like moths to the porch light.  Thank you, by the way, for sleeping so well.  I know that last night was a freak occurance to keep me honest and grateful.  So you can go back to the previous sleep pattern now.  Thanks.

This morning I told you the story of how I wanted you so much.  And how I thought it would be easy to make you.  I told you how I was surprised how difficult it actually was to make you.  Eventually you came.  Thank you for coming.  I might add that you pretty much laughed your head off the whole time I told you the story.  I’m so glad we can laugh about it now.

It is hard to write these letters and not get overwhelmingly sappy.  Moms can be like that some times.  Get used to it, kid.  You have two of us.



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Filed under my hon, my second son, my son, Trucker, TTC