Category Archives: blogitty blog blog

My Baby Blog Is Pregnant?

Blogging is cool.

Deep, I know.

But I have to say that I’ve been fairly inactive for over a month… could it be two?  And when I went back to my dashboard, entire conversations had been going on about my writing.  I think writers are sort of introverted divas.  We feel shy and insecure.  What we really want is for people to have conversations about our writing.  Or better yet, for someone to tell us that they like it.  That they connected to it.  That it made a small (or big) difference in their lives.

That has happened to me.  It is totally addictive.

I’ve been thinking for a while about starting a blog about my newest obsession, education reform.  Sort of going at it in a Forrest Gump kind of tone.  Because the whole thing is really so stupid.  It might take a Gump to point it out well. I went to an inspiring talk the other night in Manhattan.  I has again renewed my idea of the blog.  But there’s a problem.  My honey and several of my closest friends work for charter schools.  Sometimes my house feels like what it must be like to live in the Carville-Matalin household.  I don’t need to annoy my honey with a blog again.  (Yeah, this blog annoyed her.  Making the private public, spending so much time and energy, etc.  I understand.)  Sooooo, I’d like to blog, but I don’t want it to end in us having to spring for couple’s therapy.

The other problem is that I would like that blog to not be anonymous.  I’ve enjoyed some success here.  But my name isn’t on it.  For good, vagina-related reasons, I think.  I’d like to have my name on the new one. I’m not sure what I can legally, or safely cover.  Can I write about my students with fake names?  I never would do anything to exploit them, but I have some good testing-related anecdotes.  Can I write about my school?  Would any of it put my job in jeopardy? I don’t know the rules.  Do any of you know?

Tanks, y’all.

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Happy Day

It is a happy day in blogland. I want to send a happy birthday shout out to one of my long-time readers and a blog-to-irl friend, SN. Happy birthday, friend.

Speaking of friends, I am also happy to send laser beams of sunshine and supersonic crossed finger action out to Eva, who is so close to finally being a mom (I feel like she always has been) to her actual baby, that I can practically smell the poopy diapers from here. She’s been skipping the twisty turny yellow brick road to motherhood for so long. I’m thrilled for this possible field of poppies where she can (not) fall asleep.

Here’s an update on the bottle weaning. Wait for it. Wait for it…

It never happened. Yeah. That’s right. What? Like he’s going to go to the prom with a bottle of milk tucked in his cumberbund? I think not. He’ll totally be weaned by fifth grade, the latest.

I miss you guys. Don’t worry, come July I’ll post so often you’ll be sick of me.

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Busy Writing Poems Soooo….

I feel a little neglectful of my bloggy homestead, so I’m going to do a meme.  Anyone can join in, but I may also tag some folks.  This is from Calliope.

I’ll post my answers in the comments and you can do the same OR use this to propel you to the land of clicking “publish” on your blog dashboard. Just let me know if you did so I can dust the cobwebs from your url and hug you.

You.
Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.

No.
Explanations.

Not as easy as you might think…

1. Yourself: me

2 Your girlfriend/boyfriend: her

3. Your hair: red

4. Your mother/stepmother: phoenix

5. Your dog: stuffed

6. Your favorite item: words

7. Your dream last night: forgotten

8. Your favorite drink: hefeweizen

9. Your dream car: outback

10. The room you are in: diningnook

12. Your fear: loss

13. What you want to be in 10 years: published

14. Who you hung out with last night: boychicks

15. What you’re not: rich

16. Muffin: corn

17: One of your wish list items: house

18: Time: precious

19. The last thing you did: poem

20. What you are wearing: yogafit

21. Your favorite weather: bright

22. Your favorite book: dogeared

23. The last thing you ate: chili

24. Your life: glorious

25. Your mood: meh

26. Your best friend(S): energy

27. What are you thinking about right now? poems

28. Your car: old

29. What are you doing at the moment?: reflecting

30. Your summer: off!

31. Your relationship status: engaged?

32. What is on your TV?: nothing

33. What is the weather like?: chilly

34. When is the last time you laughed?:  poem

Assuming I can put a link in a one-word answer!  🙂  Hmmm.  I tag ohchicken, reproducing genius, and familyo.  I always tag the same people.  I don’t know why.

XOXO,

ohm

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A Poem a Day?

I may have just lost my mind.  I signed up to blog a poem a day for a month.  Shall I apologize in advance?  No.  Maybe it will get my juices flowing or something.  Oye.  Besides,  this thing is anonymous.  I may as well be hanging up a rhyming couplet about wiping the seat in the teachers’ restroom.

Edited:  I’ve decided to post the poems on a new blog with my name attached.  So, there’s no link here, since this blog is anonymous.  Sorry.  😦  The above link is from 2009, here’s the 2010 link.  If you do know me, you can just find my name and click.

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Two-Week Wait Advent Calendar #2

The last one worked wonders. Two of my friends got pregnant using it, one was on the first try.  This is not scientific evidence or anything… but crossing fingers and picking up lucky pennies count in situations like this.  So I’m doing it again.

Here’s how it works… I know how rough the TWW can be.  I did it 11 times.  I think I could maybe write an Elizabeth Kubler-Ross-esque book on the stages of denial and anger and joy that one goes through in those two weeks.  So a while back, I thought, wouldn’t it be fun if I could make an advent calendar like the Christmas ones?  And each day of the TWW you could open a little window and get a treat?  That might make it ever-so-slightly easier to bear.  Now I have a very small handful of friends who have secretly told me they are TTC.  So this is for you, my secret IRL friends… and for you, too, my virtual friends.  May you only have to do one TWW!  And if you have to do two, I have two calendars, now. Open one link each day of your wait.

Stage 1 — Excitement

Day 1  Get pumped.  Imagine each person in the audience is a 100,000 swimmers, each one working toward the same goal.  Scroll down and click on the DipDive video link.  Don’t read the article first.  Just watch.

Day 2 Positive visualization.  Since this is a live-streaming link, it may not work forever.  Let me know if I need to change it.  Imagine this is you. If you are a vegetarian, this might not work for you. 🙂

Day 3 Some more positive visualization.  Short but sweet.

Stage 2 — Denial. You might be thinking, depending on how many TWWs you’ve experienced, what am I doing?  I’m going to jinx this try.  Stop thinking about it!  Stop! Stop! So here are a few days worth of distraction.

Day 4 — Is it day 14 yet?  Wait, day 14 of what?  I’m not doing a TWW!  I’m just my plain old self, not even thinking about such a thing at all.

Day 5 — Pick one and go see it.  While you have the time, money and energy.  🙂

Day 6 — You are almost through the first week of the-thing-that-shall-not-be-named.  Not that I’m naming it, or anything. Why don’t you celebrate with some cake? (This is my favorite blog… always good for a laugh, so surf away there while you ignore that thing you’re not ignoring, kay?)

Day 7 — If you really want to get distracted for hours and hours on end, try this… I mean, you are already on the computer, so you probably already do.  But if you don’t I’m sure you have some long-lost friends out there wishing you would.

Stage 3 — Trying to ignore, yet simultaneously causing, physical signs of pregnancy.  Physical signs of pregnancy, by the way, are evilly similar to those of PMS.  Just breathe, my dear.  Breathe.  And get your hands off of your b00bs.  Your prodding is what’s making them sore.

Day 8 — I know what will stop you from groping yourself… put yourself in a white over-the-car luggage holder in a bathroom stall. Yeah.  That ought to do the trick.  Or, maybe try wearing a sparky, flamey-type bra thing. (Try to ignore the vodka.  You may have some in a few days.  Or not.  Both wouldn’t be a bad thing.  Unless you are in recovery.  Then just try to focus on the costumes!)

Day 9 — Fu*k it.  Go shopping.  Just… stay away from that baby button. EEehh!  I saw that.  It is too early.  Focus on yourself while you still can.  If you are pregnant, it won’t be about you anymore.  And for my lesbian friends, you may be spending so much on baby making supplies… what’s another $50 to spend on yourself?  Nothing!  A drop in the pan.  Go.  You have my blessing.

Day 10 —  I said stop touching your b00bs.  And that goes for your partner, too.  Nah.  She can, but you can’t.  Sorry.  I’m getting off the point.  The point is, you only have a few more days to go.  Yes, the cramp you felt yesterday could be PMS.  It could also be implantation pain.  But since there’s no way knowing which at this point, why don’t you just look at this.

Stage 3 — Wanting it to end.  Trying not to test too soon.  Really, really wanting it to end.

Day 11 — Put down that pee stick!  Put it down and back away.  If you test now, it will be negative and you will feel sad, quite possibly for no good reason.  Why don’t you just try to meditate. And if you feel nauseated, you’ll know the real reason.

Day 12 — You may want another positive visualization at this point.  If you are trying for the first child, look at this.  If you are working on making a sibling, open this oldie but goodie. (Yeah, this was on the first calendar, but I figured I should carry over some mojo from there.) If you are an amazing master of your own mind and you still are ignoring that thing that will be over in two days (go, you!)  Watch this. (Ok, you can all watch that one.)

Day 13 — Please wait one more day to test.  I mean, you can go ahead and test, but I recommend waiting just one more day.  Look, you waited 13 already.  You can do it.  Where ever you are on your journey, I ‘m glad you’ve bothered to spend some time during the trip at my humble little blog.  And here, I give you the beginning of my final TWW.  And here, the end.  I hope this is the end of your final one, but if not, that’s ok, too.  Let me know how it goes.  XOXO!

Day 14 — Take the test already.  And don’t be a stranger.

Love,

ohm

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The Droughte of March, Or Truckin’

This time of year always makes me wax Chaucerian/TS Eliotish.

I pretty much hate March.  This year has been particularly hard, what with the ten zillion pounds of snow, teaching in a testing grade for the first time, and, oh a series of earthquakes that make me secretly wonder if my dad’s house in southern New Mexico is about to become beachfront property, and when, exactly should I relocate the family there?

This is all to say that I’m sorry I haven’t blogged in over a month.  Although I think it must be a first for me.

Also, I don’t have much to say.

I do want to share with you a new development with my youngest son, in relation to his bloggity nickname — Trucker.  Trucker is obsessed — OBSESSED — with trucks.  We live in an apartment facing the expressway.  We can hear the expressway pretty much all the time.  When Trucker hears a truck, he gets a panicky/excited look on his face, drops what he is doing, and leaps up onto his step stool by the window to see the truck.  He hears a truck about every two-and-a-half minutes.  Once he gets to the window, he points and yells “Wuh! Wuh! Wuh!”  He has recently learned to say “bus”  (actually “buh! buh! buh!”) and “taxi,”  which he actually says right out.  All this has made me grateful indeed for the window guards the city forced us to install.  But it has also made me wonder why the Truckman is so into trucks.  Cakie showed no real interest in thingsthatgo until he was old enough to have peers who liked to play cars.  And even then, he wasn’t ever obsessed.  Cakie liked butterflies and music. He loved the color pink (in spite of my own dislike of the color) and playing restaurant with his play kitchen and his wooden pizza and plastic food.  I fancied myself a fine example of a dyke-mom who was raising a beyond-the-stereo-types boy.  It must be me, right?

Then along came Trucker.  You know what else?  He loves, I mean, LOVES football.  Let me state for the record that nobody in this house watches football.  We own a football, but we are far from fans.  Trucker will throw a football around, acting like a quarterback.  He doesn’t talk a great deal yet, but if he has a football in his hands, he’ll make babble that sounds pretty much like, “24, 33, 18 — hite hite hite!”  Then he’ll throw the ball.  I will say that is was made quite clear on the donor profile that the dude loves football.  So is it genetics?  Or is it the fact that Trucker has a big brother?  Because of said big brother, there is actually a football and trucks in the house.  Whereas when Cakie was little, he had a whole lot of musical instruments and cooking toys?

Oh, Trucker likes to make monster noises.  He’s been doing it for months.  He loves to growl.

It is all, of course, supercute.

Of course, I love both boys for who they are and how they act.  Trucker’s monster noises and NFL dreams (oye) are just as wonderful to me as Cakie’s wooden picnics on his bedroom floor.

I have to say that I wonder about this at least once a day.

Here’s Trucker, doing what I lovingly refer to as Truckin’.

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The Year

My mom pointed out that I never told you which year I’d re-live.

I think it would be the year that I was pregnant. 2008.

I guess starting in January.  I loved being pregnant.  Then, later, I loved having my brand-new expanded family.  Though to do it again, I’d have taken another week off before school ended.  And I’d have seen a few movies while I was home before I gave birth.  I also probably would not re-do going on vacation with a six-week-old.  Other than that, it was a grand year.  I loved giving birth.  I loved being home with my baby.  I loved it all.  (I realize that I would not enjoy the anxiety and uncertainty part of being pregnant again, but I would do it.)

Those of you who commented thought I’d choose this past year.  And it has been a nice one.  But once your second child starts moving of his or her own accord, as Trucker did at 10 months, all bets are off.  It has literally been a blur of running around pulling dangerous things out of his mouth or taking him down from the dangerous place he has climbed to, all while trying to follow the plot line of a four-year-old’s stories, which in itself is a minor feat.  So though this year has been fun, it has been exhausting.  I don’t really need to do it again.

Which year would you live over?

BTW, my good friend, Nethermede has started her own blog.  She is an excellent person, as well as a good writer.  You may want to check it out.

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Filed under blogitty blog blog, Labor & Birth, Trucker