i'd rather be beaten

I love being a mom. Love it. Even when I'm annoyed and ready to pull my hair out, I love it. Let's start this post by saying that.

I just saw a picture of someone who was hugely pregnant. And, as I looked at it, I just thought, "I'd rather be beaten than be pregnant again." Everyone says that soon enough, I'll forget how much I disliked being preggers, (I am in awe of those people who enjoy pregnancy...God bless you.) and my love for cuddly babies will make me jump on the "let's have another kiddo" bandwagon. I can say unequivocally that I am nowhere near that point. Nowhere. Not the same ballpark. Not the same continent. Not the same galaxy.

I'm catching a lot of flack from most of my family because I really think I want just the one baby. I know, I know. I felt the collective gasp as you all read that statement. How often do you hear about anyone only wanting one kid? I'm supposed to have 2.5, right? Just like everyone else. I just don't think it's for me. I really don't. Someone once said to me, "Do you feel like the three of you are the Ps? Or do you feel like there is something missing?" I don't feel like we're missing anything (except those darn rain barrels). I feel like this is my family, and I am super happy with my little family. Don't fix it if it ain't broke, right?

I think if we were to decide that the P family needed to expand, I'd like to adopt. For me, I would rather take a child that needs a lot of love and a good home and give him those things than to have another baby, leaving some child somewhere without those things. There's a part of me that feels guilty that I didn't go that route already. It's a very small part because I am in love with every part of my daughter. Even her stinky toes. But, still, I feel like a hypocrite. And all of this is just speculation because I don't want the P family to expand at all. Not even a goldfish. Anyway, for now, I plan to do my part for the planet through population control. It's something.
This is a ridiculous post. And likely TMI. I'm out. I've got boxes to pack.

here's an idea

How about all those crazy-rich celebrities and athletes stop buying hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of gifts for each other...and start donating that money to more worthwhile causes? Like kids who need shoes or mosquito nets. Or maybe schools or inner-city clinics that need supplies. Or the planet that needs more trees, cleaner air and water (support a kid who wants to be a scientist and solve these problems but can't afford to). Or, hey, what about the great "elect Barack Obama" fund? Any one of these sounds more appealing than some of the crap I've read recently. To explain this little rant, I will have to admit that I look at People.com every single day. It's one of the things that I loathe most about myself, but I just have to check the headlines. It's a habit. Anyway, I guess Chris Brown (some 18-year-old who is famous for doing God knows what) and Rihanna (the Umbrella chick) are dating. For her birthday, he bought her 100,000 bucks worth of jewelry. Um, she's 20. He's 18. Aren't they supposed to be making mix tapes and giving each other sweaters from American Eagle or something? Hilary Duff's boyfriend (some hockey player) bought her a Maserati or some equally ridiculous sports car for her birthday. It's insane.

I'm not saying that they shouldn't be allowed to spend their money however they please. They have the right to buy whatever they want...just like I can't stop someone who's on food stamps from buying a PSP or some other toy. (I guess the great chasm between the super-rich and the poor, heck, the gap between the rich and the normal, is the real issue.) What I'm saying is that this is ridiculous. It's so ridiculous that it's ridonkulous. I think it's great that a whole boatload of celebrities gave a million dollars each to Hurricane Katrina relief. That's great. But when you make 15 million dollars for a movie, one million doesn't really sound so generous. I know that's not entirely fair. But, really, life isn't fair. The people who lost everything they had...that wasn't fair either. I really can't think of a lot of situations in life that qualify as fair. It's just reality.

Anyway, I don't even know why I'm complaining about this because there are a lot of celebrities that do a lot of great things that they don't have to do. There are good people who do good things all around the world. There are just a lot of immature, selfish, attention hogs out there, too. And they make me puke. I'm done. I'm going to steam some carrots for the munchkin.

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY:

Sight: the forecast that says it will be 60 degrees Sunday
Sound: "Rami, you're in."
Smell: onions and peppers hitting a hot pan
Touch: S snuggles
Taste: hot chocolate, havarti and apples

how much junk is in that trunk?

Has anyone else watched Carson Kressley's new show How to Look Good Naked? While I originally took it as pseudo-rip off of my man Tim Gunn's show, I have been converted. I am a believer. While I could never go on a show like that because I could never, ever explain to my granddaddy why I was in my underwear (or naked) on television...that's even if I wanted to plaster my panty-clad butt on television, which I don't...there is one really remarkable thing that they do on this show. And it has nothing to do with naked photo shoots. It has to do with perception. Perception of your own body.

An explanation. Let's say you're on the show, and the thing you hate most about your body is your big butt. They measure your butt. Then they prance a bunch of women out in front of you in their undies and ask you to place yourself between the two women who you think your butt would fit between...you know, less junk in the trunk to the left, more junk in the trunk to your right...it's really a pretty cool thing. Everyone ends up putting themselves between much bigger women than they are. It just shows how hard it is to be objective about your own body. I'd heard of this before...I know that photography is used in therapy for a lot of women with eating disorders. If they see their bodies without their faces, they usually don't recognize themselves, and they can see how thin they really are.

I'd be really interested to see how my own body stacks up, and I think it would be awesome if they could put pictures of lots of women on their website, with their measurements, so real women can get on there and see what they're "up against." It would be nice to see. I do, however, realize that what I'm suggesting could be seen as borderline porn. A whole website with nothing but pictures of girls in their underwear. Maybe not such a good idea in practice. You know, just one of those "good in theory" things.

things i learned from the super bowl

So, last night's Super Bowl was a pretty great Super Bowl, huh? I realize that my Patriot-loving readers might not agree, but my Giant-loving readers are on cloud nine today. I'm not exactly unbiased as I was rooting for the littlest Manning, but it really was an exciting football game. The Patriots know how to make a Super Bowl come down to the wire. These are the things that I learned from yesterday's festivities:

1. Tom Brady is not unbeatable. Unless you're talking about a contest for single best-looking quarterback ever. He wins that one. Hands down.

2. SalesGenie.com is not afraid of alienating huge segments of the population with their culturally-insensitive commercials.

3. Troy Aikman could strangle me with one hand without a problem. The man probably has the largest hands in America. They are almost cartoonish.

4. Joe Buck's hair is not real. It can't possibly be real.

5. Ryan Seacrest played high school football in Georgia. That, like Joe Buck's hair, doesn't seem possible.

6. The Manning family has wicked awesome genes.

7. There are Hybrid Cadillac Escalades and a Hybrid GMC Yukons. While I am happy that both of these vehicles exist, there are issues. Like, who could possible afford these behemoths, and, seriously, BUY SOMETHING A LITTLE SMALLER. Please. Unless you are toting around a minimum of three kids you don't need a vehicle that large. Even then I have issues.

8. Some people should save their money and not make Super Bowl commercials.

I think that's all. It's at least all I can remember. Happy Day-after the Super Bowl...day before Super Tuesday and Fat Tuesday. All that. I'm out.

happy Hanukkah

We are certifiable WASPs. We'd be card-carrying WASPs if they issued cards...I mean, look at us. I have an Episcopal Church sticker on my car for crying out loud. Just the same, we want S to appreciate that there are people out there that aren't just like us. I don't want my daughter to grow up saying things that are offensive to other groups of people because she's ignorant about those people. To kick start the process, we've set up a makeshift menorah for Hanukkah, which started last night at sundown. I don't speak Hebrew, so we didn't recite any blessings or sing any traditional songs or anything, but we did light the first candle, and we ate salmon and latkes for dinner. It was nice, but I think M's daddy was seriously confused by what was going on.

Beyond that, nice and reverent is out the window for this post. Has anyone else been following the Jennifer Love Hewitt, "a size 2 is not fat!" thing? Basically, she (who has a rockin' body, people...you have to love a girl with a booty and some tatas, right?) was photographed in a bikini recently, and she has-gasp!- cellulite. Who cares? How many real people do you actually know without cellulite? If you know any, you should remind them to thank their mothers for their genes because we all know that being skinny or being pudgy has nothing to do with cellulite. My grandma had it. My mom has it. I've had cellulite since I was a 14-year-old cheerleader. And I wasn't fat then, and I'm not fat now. Anyway, the photos hit the internet and everyone started saying she's let herself get fat. She has responded by saying that she's not fat. This is what she looks like and people need to get over it and start embracing their bodies. When I read about this on Monday, I was so happy. Good for her. Of course, if she suddenly becomes a bobblehead in a month, I'll be seriously peeved. Anyway, I'm pretty happy with my body. I always feel like I should be thinner, but in reality, I am a pretty small person. Society just makes us all feel inadequate. If you don't feel like you need to be smaller or more toned, let me know your secret for real body-related self confidence. I'd love to know...

So, I was feeling pretty good about myself for a couple of days...then I watched the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show last night. Now I feel like a whale again. To make myself feel better, I'll likely eat a cookie or two or ten. It's a vicious cycle, people.

Have a great hump day...celebrating your humps. Or trying to get rid of them. Whatever makes you happy.

you can call me Al

Seriously big shout out to my man Al Gore. I wonder if he's the first Tennessean to win the Nobel Peace Prize. Whether he is or not, I'm thrilled for him and the UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. It's pretty exciting, you know. Al Gore brings a lot of publicity to anything he's involved in, so I think this could be great for the environmental movement. Really, really great. So, way to go, Al. (I'm certain he reads this blog and will be thrilled out of his head at my congratulatory statement. Right?)

It's been a pretty low key couple of days around here. Fall showed up Wednesday with a vengeance, and it's a solid 25 degrees cooler than it was earlier in the week. It's chilly. S has had to start wearing pajamas, and her little fingers and nose are like popsicles. We've been pretty bundled up, which seems ridiculous since we were wearing as little as possible in the heat last week. Of course, it is still in the 60's, so it's not like there's an ice age setting in. It just feels that way since it all happened to fast. We'll get over it.

I've also gotten started on S's Halloween costume, and I should be able to finish it up today or tomorrow. She's going to be a witch if I haven't mentioned it before. I think I'm going to make her a little broom to carry, too. I'll be the one that gets beaten with it, so we'll see if I'm really brave enough to make one. I promise to post pics of the costume as soon as it's done.

I'm out people. Things to do...

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY
Sight: S and Otis, side-by-side, looking out the window
Sound: The Littlest Birds by the Be Good Tanyas
Touch: ice cold little fingers
Taste: chocolate cookies at M's work party last weekend
Smell: grilled cheese poop (yuck!)

further up and further in

I just finished reading The Chronicles of Narnia to S. It's taken almost two months to finish the whole shebang, reading a bit at a time as she plays before naptime and bedtime. I had forgotten how much I love the end. Most of The Last Battle makes me so sad, but then the ending comes and it makes me so happy. It's almost exactly what you would hope for, you know? Well, if you haven't read it, you don't know what I'm talking about. If that's the case, I recommend reading it. It's just lovely.

It makes what I read last night in Newsweek seem that much more absurd. Yoga for Christians. Even my right-wing Evangelical buddy (that's right, there is exactly one of you) has to admit this is ridiculous. Yoga as blasphemy? Whatever. Follow that link and read the article so you can laugh out loud. I mean, wow.

S and I are actually headed to church today (this is a very "jesus-y" post, eh?). They're having a big children's consignment sale and I volunteered to help. I'm actually not sure how much help I'll be as I'll be lugging S around, but we'll try. Besides, we can't even stay for a whole shift, as we are technically signed up for 10:30-3. We'll only be helping during the time between her naps, which means we'll show up at least an hour late and we'll leave at least an hour early. I already let them know that and I think they thought I was insane for even offering to come out at all. I try (to help, not to be insane).

please note that S, the bear, and the turtle all sleep in the same position

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY
Sight: really, really perfect red color of diced tomatoes; naked baby buns in the crib
Sound: Ray LaMontagne's "Jolene"
Smell: lentil-sausage soup, lavender
Touch: cold ice cream with warm apples, cool air in the mornings
Taste: the soup, scallops in butter and parsley, Naked juice

double up, a-men

My brain has been overloaded with random thoughts the past two days. It probably has something to do with M being out of town, meaning that I have nothing to distract me from pondering society in all its glory- or lack thereof. So, here's a little breakdown of everything I've been exposed to:

1. Thanks to the Morton Mama Monkey, I've been able to witness this glorious display of creativity. I am pretty sure I just stared at the screen with my mouth open the entire time it played...and for quite awhile after it was finished.

2. Michael Vick. What an idiot. The guy was a darling. Absolute gold- on and off the football field. Then came the dogfighting accusations. It's completely despicable. Completely. I have no idea what he's done, but seriously, did he think he was so invincible that he'd never get caught? What is it with people thinking that their seemingly bottomless bank accounts will continually save their necks? Whatever happened to being held responsible? In reality, I don't think it's just the super rich that think they are above the law or common decency. The collective narcissism of our society makes me gag. Gag, people. Which brings me to:

3. Nicole Richie/Paris Hilton/Lindsay Lohan. Seriously? Why are they still all over the news and the internet and every magazine known to man? At least Lindsay Lohan at some point had a reason to be famous. Mean Girls was a quality flick, which is mostly due to the genius of Tina Fey. Either way, I am so sick of these girls. I am especially sick of the fact that they keep being sent to jail and then released early. It's a bad joke. Real punishment for them would be to ban the media from talking about them for a specified period of time (like maybe forever). You think they could enforce something like that?? I can't even talk about it because, once again, it makes me gag.

4. The one thing that did restore a little of my faith in humanity when it comes to ridiculously rich and famous people was Gwen Stefani opting to cover up for her recent concert in Malaysia. It's nice that she wasn't a brat, insisting that she had every right to be as naked as she chose to be. Instead, she just respected the beliefs and customs of her fans. It was nice.

5. Lastly, I keep thinking, "why is any of this crap interesting?" Because it's really not. It's pretty mind numbing. Maybe it's just easier for society to have their brains operate on auto pilot than to actually think and care, which brings me to a story that I read in Newsweek a few weeks ago. Ever heard of Norman Borlaug? I didn't think so. Look him up. It's pretty impressive. Just a little background: the guy has won the Nobel Peace Prize, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and the Congressional Gold Medal. I won a hula hoop contest in second grade, and that's about all. He's a pretty amazing dude...and no one knows who he is. Gagging. Again.

Anyway, I've got to pack. We're heading out for a little trip, so I'll be out of commission until at least next Thursday. Have a great weekend, my peeps.

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY:
Sight: S's second tooth, which is just barely there
Sound: California by Phantom Planet. I love this stupid song. Also, the sound of S peeing in the living room floor the other night. Hysterical (in a really gross way).
Smell: Ripe peaches. Basil in the garden.
Touch: S kisses.
Taste: Ice cream.

happiness is...

...what?

Baby girl's smile. Her giggle. Her lone tooth, which made it's debut last Wednesday afternoon. Her kisses, which consist of her grabbing my face and licking with a lot of voracity. Happiness is my baby. It's also my husband and my dog and my family and my friends. But this post isn't nearly so noble.

What makes you happy besides all those wonderfully virtuous things? Anyone who says that those are the only things that make them happy is lying. Stuff makes us happy, too. I know it sounds horribly selfish, but it's true, isn't it? I've been thinking about it for a couple of weeks actually. The gospel at church a few weeks ago (and the subsequent sermon) was the parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:13-21). The lesson is (more or less) that being rich in wordly things will get you nowhere...you're supposed to be rich in faith and spirit and love for God. I get it. The sermon, however, made a lot of sense in that erudite, very Episcopalian way that I've grown to love.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I don't love me some Jesus. I do. But giving away one's possessions and acting as if material things are unimportant? That's not really a viable option. A girl's got to pay the rent, right? Anway.

The sermon discussed that even those noble pursuits such as friendship and love and motherhood cost money. Anyone who's been on the receiving end of medical bills after giving birth knows what I'm talking about. The idea is free, the reality is expensive. I keep getting off track here.

The priest eventually got around to discussing actual possessions..something I know a lot about. The parable of the rich fool normally makes me feel like a selfish hoard of crap. I think it was a brilliant bit of writing that gets people to give money to the church. Again, I digress. The priest asked everyone to think of their favorite possession. Very favorite. He declared that it wasn't un-Christian to love something other than your family and the Big Man as long as you don't love it more than your family and the Big Man. He talked about it being okay for things to make you happy, but that you should share that happiness. If food makes you happy, okay. But share that love. Reach out to your fellow man and engage them in that love. Does that make sense? Probably not as I'm not doing a very good job of putting my thoughts into words here.

Anyway, think of your favorite things. What are they? Why do they make you happy? Make sure you appreciate them often, and share them with your family and your friends. As for me, I couldn't think of one thing because I don't think I have a favorite thing. But my favorite stuff? It's probably all of my cookware and dishes. It makes me so happy to cook for people and to put it all out on pretty plates with pretty napkins and the whole nine yards. I'd like to think that I do a pretty good job of sharing that love.

So, happy Monday. Share the love.

Oh, and don't forget to appreciate all those noble things like babies and husbands and pets, too. In fact, I can't wait for my slobbering, sleeping baby to wake up so I can appreciate her...meaning I'm going to kiss all over her stinky little face and laugh and laugh and laugh at her. I love my life.

This is the most random post ever. Ever.

Oh Snap

"Today is a gift from God. That's why they call it the present."

I'm not sure if wittiness like that is only experienced in the south or not. Seems like a southern thing. Then again, I witnessed an appetizer with bacon last weekend that wasn't from the south. For the record, it was peanut butter and bacon, and it's a Buffalo thing. Just the same, I drove past the Lexington Baptist Temple (I know...Baptist Temple? I don't get it either) earlier today, and a big grin spread across my face upon seeing their sign. I love me some good Christian advertising. I sincerely hope that all you northerners and westerners and whatnot aren't missing out. Beyond that, yesterday was little bit's three month birthday. We had cake. I can't believe that she's a quarter old. What I really can't believe is the fact that I put a six month dress on her this morning and couldn't button it around her neck. Luckily, it was a polo-style dress, so we just left a couple of buttons undone. The child is huge. Huge. She's also a bonafide member of the family now...she has a savings account. We went and had lunch with hubby today and stopped by the bank on the way back to his office. Hehehe...she's sooooo her daddy's girl.

She's sleeping now, and I have some housework to catch up on. Peace out, my peeps.