Well, Baby,
Your first Christmas officially ended yesterday, and while I suspect I was the bud of several jokes for declaring this your first Christmas, you were as present as everyone else (even moreso than your great uncle who was tanked, per usual). Our celebration started at Grandma J's on Christmas Eve. Your Uncle J bought a new camera - very, very nice - so we have a bunch of pictures of your cousins opening their packages. He put the SD card into Grandma J's TV, and we were able to watch a slideshow of the carnage. Next, we went to my Aunt's house. My Grandma decided to spend the holiday in Florida, but my cousins and their spouses were in town, and their big, ridiculous Rottweiler provided the evening's entertainment.
Christmas morning came very early. We volunteered to walk dogs at the animal rescue, along with Grandpa and Grandma B. It was bitter cold, so we were very lucky that a bunch of other volunteers showed up as well. Next, we packed up and went to Grandma B's to open our presents. You received a blanket called a "taggie" from their Massachusettes friends which you are supposed to love because you can play with all of the tags sewn along the edges. Whatever. Then, we hosted dinner - Honey-baked ham at your father's request. Grandma J and the B's came over, and by 7PM, I was shot. Your Grandmothers thoroughly wear me out. We crashed, but your dad had enough energy left to visit with friends from Chicago, and you received even more good loot. Not bad for a fetus, huh?
Yesterday was dinner (sorta) and presents at Grandpa R and K's house. Since he and Grandma J divorced, our holidays have become marathons (not that you will mind as you will be receiving presents at every stop). R&K bought me a bunch of maternity stuff and not a day too soon; according to the websites, you will double in size in the next two weeks. Go, Baby X! Your father got some car stuff, and your cousins were crazy happy once again. Your Aunt H received the Cadillac of food processors because she's making her own pasta right now (among other things); it's just that she is not a very good cook (yet) and I'm suspecting the Kitchen Aid may giver her a false sense of her culinary skills. Me? I'm Cuisinart for what it's worth.
For all of our faults, I realized a wonderful thing: every person we saw already loves you. A bunch. Just wait until next year . . .
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
beautiful fool
Which would you rather have: a really smart kid or a really beautiful kid? For myself, I have always admired intelligence and the discipline to apply it. I am attracted to the quirky perspectives most of the uber-smarties I know exhibit, and I love to watch a quick mind at work no matter what the task: a witty retort; a mechanical solution; an esoteric quote from a movie. So, I always thought I wanted the smart kid, so much so that I actually noticed a strong tide of envy roll over me as I was reading recently about a friend's child, a kindergartner reading at college level (seriously), and the problems associated with placing the child on the accelerated track at school or leaving her on standard track and providing "extra stimulation" outside of class. Great problems to have, right? Let me also say that for this particular child, brains v. looks is not an issue: she's gorgeous, too.
And, of course, who wouldn't want both?
But, I now think that my job as a parent isn't to simply want the kid to be the best at everything. No doubt, it would be great for bragging purposes, and it would feel pretty good to say that my kindergartner reads AND does math at a college level - but what of it? As I look back, most of the "brainy" kids from school were stereotyped as such and tried like hell to fit in with the standard track kids until too many failed attempts drove them into wearing their eccentricities like mantles. And not without a healthy dose of condescension.
Still, the beautiful people were tough, if not impossible, to admire. They were also condescending, or stupid, depending upon whose favor they were cultivating. I reasoned that I should not admire them because they had not earned their good looks, but that just makes me a hypocrite. People are born smart, and I admire them. People are born atheletic, and I admire them. People are born musicians, and I admire them. People are born beautiful, and I scorn them. Why? Why, indeed.
Because it really matters what you do with your stuff. If you are beautiful, are you using your looks to manipulate people and situations? If you are smart, are you baiting traps for unsuspecting folks? Hacking into private computers? Devising ponzy schemes? I have rarely seen smart people bahaving badly whereas beautiful people always seem to be working an angle based upon their looks.
I think that rather than want for the smartest or the prettiest kid in the room, I will want for the most reasonable: reasonably intelligent; reasonably attractive. As a parent, I, too, must be reasonable when I emphasize or de-emphasize the value of each. Fast-tracking kids puts a tremendous pressure on them to excel, and this ties their worth up in their accomplishments. Focusing on appearances indicates conditional acceptance (you're worthy because you're beautiful) and might just encourage the kid to take a pass on trying to accomplish anything beyond looking good. Daisy's famous quote from The Great Gatsby springs to mind : "I hope she'll be a fool--that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool... " If I have a beautiful child, she's forbidden from watching that scene. But, that's unreasonable, isn't it?
No wonder expecting parents always say they just want for a healthy baby - beyond that, it's a real quagmire.
And, of course, who wouldn't want both?
But, I now think that my job as a parent isn't to simply want the kid to be the best at everything. No doubt, it would be great for bragging purposes, and it would feel pretty good to say that my kindergartner reads AND does math at a college level - but what of it? As I look back, most of the "brainy" kids from school were stereotyped as such and tried like hell to fit in with the standard track kids until too many failed attempts drove them into wearing their eccentricities like mantles. And not without a healthy dose of condescension.
Still, the beautiful people were tough, if not impossible, to admire. They were also condescending, or stupid, depending upon whose favor they were cultivating. I reasoned that I should not admire them because they had not earned their good looks, but that just makes me a hypocrite. People are born smart, and I admire them. People are born atheletic, and I admire them. People are born musicians, and I admire them. People are born beautiful, and I scorn them. Why? Why, indeed.
Because it really matters what you do with your stuff. If you are beautiful, are you using your looks to manipulate people and situations? If you are smart, are you baiting traps for unsuspecting folks? Hacking into private computers? Devising ponzy schemes? I have rarely seen smart people bahaving badly whereas beautiful people always seem to be working an angle based upon their looks.
I think that rather than want for the smartest or the prettiest kid in the room, I will want for the most reasonable: reasonably intelligent; reasonably attractive. As a parent, I, too, must be reasonable when I emphasize or de-emphasize the value of each. Fast-tracking kids puts a tremendous pressure on them to excel, and this ties their worth up in their accomplishments. Focusing on appearances indicates conditional acceptance (you're worthy because you're beautiful) and might just encourage the kid to take a pass on trying to accomplish anything beyond looking good. Daisy's famous quote from The Great Gatsby springs to mind : "I hope she'll be a fool--that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool... " If I have a beautiful child, she's forbidden from watching that scene. But, that's unreasonable, isn't it?
No wonder expecting parents always say they just want for a healthy baby - beyond that, it's a real quagmire.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
what would depeche mode do?
Through marriage, I own about 40 Depeche Mode CDs (probably more, but I don't keep up with Mr. R's ipod downloads), and through this collection, I received my education on re-mixes. I remember falling in love with Music for the Masses when Mr. R and I started dating. It was one of the CDs he left in his changer, so I heard it often, and I went and bought myself a copy so I could listen to it even more. Then one day, I'm in his car, and we're listening to music, and it sounds like Music for the Masses, only it's not. But, it's definately DM. But, I know Strangelove doesn't do that dip in the middle, and while I admit it's not my favorite song, I've listened to it enough to know that this ain't it. But it kinda is. So there is my problem. I'm trying to impress this hot, younger, alternative guy in his alternative car with his alternative music, but now I need to ask a really lame-ass question about a band I'm supposed to know something about. So, what I did was this: "Where's the case for this disc?" Success was mine because not only did he have the case, he told me all about how this was an import and generally difficult to track down (and always twice as expensive but Mr. R doesn't care about cost where DM remixes are involved). And so it began.
But, here's the bigger question: Why would a band take a perfectly good song and rework it, again and again and again? Or, maybe it happens the other way. Maybe when they originally "lay it down" (oh, yeah), they record it as it evolves and then drop all the versions at the feet of their producers and say, "pick one." Or, maybe they get bored with their stuff after playing it so many times (Black Celebration? 6000 times if they've played it once) that they go a bit crazy and rework it until it becomes a caricature of its former self.
Well I could go on in this vein all day, but the important things, to me, are that the version of the song I hear is not the only one available. The possibilities to change it are nearly infinite. What's more, the one I'm hearing might not even be the best version, and it's really cool to think that even after creating a mainstream hit, a band could still believe they could build a better version. Also, remixes are the antithesis of ruts. For example, if Depeche Mode was obsessed about gaining weight, they wouldn't write just one song or - worse - a whole damn albumn about it. Out of respect for their craft and, perhaps, even their listeners, they would f*ck with it six ways from Sunday, produce about 4 distinct versions, and actually create some anticipation and excitement for their audience.
So, unless I can find a way to turn my current obsession into a remix, I'm not playing it again. That's what Depeche Mode would do.
But, here's the bigger question: Why would a band take a perfectly good song and rework it, again and again and again? Or, maybe it happens the other way. Maybe when they originally "lay it down" (oh, yeah), they record it as it evolves and then drop all the versions at the feet of their producers and say, "pick one." Or, maybe they get bored with their stuff after playing it so many times (Black Celebration? 6000 times if they've played it once) that they go a bit crazy and rework it until it becomes a caricature of its former self.
Well I could go on in this vein all day, but the important things, to me, are that the version of the song I hear is not the only one available. The possibilities to change it are nearly infinite. What's more, the one I'm hearing might not even be the best version, and it's really cool to think that even after creating a mainstream hit, a band could still believe they could build a better version. Also, remixes are the antithesis of ruts. For example, if Depeche Mode was obsessed about gaining weight, they wouldn't write just one song or - worse - a whole damn albumn about it. Out of respect for their craft and, perhaps, even their listeners, they would f*ck with it six ways from Sunday, produce about 4 distinct versions, and actually create some anticipation and excitement for their audience.
So, unless I can find a way to turn my current obsession into a remix, I'm not playing it again. That's what Depeche Mode would do.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
confession
Maybe I should label this, "The First Confession," as "confession" seems like a useful title for all kinds of posts. I also think a title like that is my subconscious way of providing an honesty check because the temptation to self-glorify is so strong in this medium. In the week since my last post, I was not out doing charity work, I was not reading stories to sick children or doing anything to make my community a better place. I wasn't even doing anything like the yoga I wrote about earlier to improve myself. Sadly, I've mainly just been watching TV. But not just any old TV, such as our former 32-inch, standard definition model. No. Christmas came a bit early for Mr. R and myself. Last Sunday, we bought a 50-inch, HiDef Plasma, and let me tell you that baby rocks.
We've been haggling over the new TV purchase for months, me trying to modest (read cheap) and prevent Mr. R from going over the top, as he usually does on technology purchases, and keep us to a $1000 budget. But Mr. R, being Mr. R, was set on going big. Well, cudos to him because he spent a goodly portion of last Sunday on Craig's List, and he found a 50-incher for $700! Love that man! So, he drove all the way to Euclid, in a snow storm, to fetch it, and it was NIB. Curious, right? The guy swears he bought it from a department store liquidating inventory, but you have to wonder. I checked the bill of sale, just to be sure Mr. R was being straight with me, and I haven't thought about it since.
The picture is so good, although you have to spring for an HD connection from the cable company to really get the benefits, that it almost hurts my eyes. I have this 10-DVD series called Planet Earth, and the photography is incredible! On the new TV, it almost makes me want to cry.
Well, enough with the TV. (But, as far as gifts go, it was also really good for my ego as Mr. R customarily showers me in beautiful clothes that I forbade him from buying this year given my "transitory" shape.) And, the pregnancy is pretty good this week. I've gained 6 pounds since my last visit, which is two too many, but the nurse says I'm still in good shape as I started the journey a bit light in the weight department. It's driving me crazy, though, because I'm trying hard to stay on the pound-per-week plan. No ultrasound at Tuesday's appointment because the doctor was away on a family emergency, but my mom was able to hear the heartbeat, and she volunteered to accompany me on my next visit, with the specialist, where we will learn the sex of the baby. Hopefully, Mr. R will be able to make that one. It just doesn't seem right for my mom to know that before him, but I'm grateful to anyone willing to join me on the trip to Beechwood during rush hour.
And, finally, in a year of evictions and layoffs, Mr. R received a 3% bump, effective immediately. That, combined with the passage of my library's levy, gives us so much for which to be thankful. He works his ass off, but so do many of the folks losing their jobs right now. I don't understand why so much goodness keeps flowing our way . . . I'm just so grateful, more that at any other time in my life.
Thank you, God, for our 50-inch plasma :-)
We've been haggling over the new TV purchase for months, me trying to modest (read cheap) and prevent Mr. R from going over the top, as he usually does on technology purchases, and keep us to a $1000 budget. But Mr. R, being Mr. R, was set on going big. Well, cudos to him because he spent a goodly portion of last Sunday on Craig's List, and he found a 50-incher for $700! Love that man! So, he drove all the way to Euclid, in a snow storm, to fetch it, and it was NIB. Curious, right? The guy swears he bought it from a department store liquidating inventory, but you have to wonder. I checked the bill of sale, just to be sure Mr. R was being straight with me, and I haven't thought about it since.
The picture is so good, although you have to spring for an HD connection from the cable company to really get the benefits, that it almost hurts my eyes. I have this 10-DVD series called Planet Earth, and the photography is incredible! On the new TV, it almost makes me want to cry.
Well, enough with the TV. (But, as far as gifts go, it was also really good for my ego as Mr. R customarily showers me in beautiful clothes that I forbade him from buying this year given my "transitory" shape.) And, the pregnancy is pretty good this week. I've gained 6 pounds since my last visit, which is two too many, but the nurse says I'm still in good shape as I started the journey a bit light in the weight department. It's driving me crazy, though, because I'm trying hard to stay on the pound-per-week plan. No ultrasound at Tuesday's appointment because the doctor was away on a family emergency, but my mom was able to hear the heartbeat, and she volunteered to accompany me on my next visit, with the specialist, where we will learn the sex of the baby. Hopefully, Mr. R will be able to make that one. It just doesn't seem right for my mom to know that before him, but I'm grateful to anyone willing to join me on the trip to Beechwood during rush hour.
And, finally, in a year of evictions and layoffs, Mr. R received a 3% bump, effective immediately. That, combined with the passage of my library's levy, gives us so much for which to be thankful. He works his ass off, but so do many of the folks losing their jobs right now. I don't understand why so much goodness keeps flowing our way . . . I'm just so grateful, more that at any other time in my life.
Thank you, God, for our 50-inch plasma :-)
Saturday, December 6, 2008
loser
Well, I lost my bid on the breast pump, but that's actually not the worst of it. I made a huge rookie mistake and submitted a bid on a pump that wasn't what I wanted, which - of course - I won. So now I am waiting for my inferior, Petite Playtex pump to arrive, and the only consolation is that even with shipping, I paid less than retail. Mr. R says no problem; we can re list it and try to recoup the loss. Love that Mr. R.
I also made my first foray into Babies-R-Us yesterday, and it really put me in a funk. I quit going to baby showers about two years ago, sending regrets and Target or B-R-U online gift cards instead. Well, in my absence, Babies added a photography studio, among other things. As soon as we walked in, we were hit with adults acting like idiots to make their children smile and kids dressed up way nicer than nature intended looking on the verge of meltdowns. Of course, I had forgotten about studio pictures. And thus it seemed with every isle of merchandise came a fresh realization of some aspect of parenthood I had overlooked. I spent $60 on some cloth diapers, plastic pants, and a changing table mattress. I never located diaper pins and diaper pails which, to me, is some really bad product placement (given my profession's calling to help customers discover tangential interests and/or necessities simply by co-locating like items, when retailers drop the ball, I cut them no slack).
But the $60 was nothing compared to the big, blaring, "YOU ARE INADEQUATE" blanket that dropped on my head as I left and stuck to me for the rest of the day. From there, we stopped at one more store where I actually had to break into a bag of pretzels, in the car, because I couldn't make the 10 minute journey to my home. Oh! And, guess who thought she would only gain weight in/around her growing baby? That would be me, and that is not even close to what's really happening to my body. Add to "YOU ARE INADEQUATE," "YOU ARE GAINING TOO MUCH WEIGHT WHICH EVEN MAKES YOU AN INADEQUATE PREGNANT PERSON." My next doctor's appointment is Tuesday, so I will be able to ask the expert if I'm totally blowing it. I should also get to see another ultrasound, and not a moment too soon: I need to see some evidence of this living miracle to buttress my sagging confidence and to encourage me through this rough spot. Then maybe I will resume bidding on pumps.
I also made my first foray into Babies-R-Us yesterday, and it really put me in a funk. I quit going to baby showers about two years ago, sending regrets and Target or B-R-U online gift cards instead. Well, in my absence, Babies added a photography studio, among other things. As soon as we walked in, we were hit with adults acting like idiots to make their children smile and kids dressed up way nicer than nature intended looking on the verge of meltdowns. Of course, I had forgotten about studio pictures. And thus it seemed with every isle of merchandise came a fresh realization of some aspect of parenthood I had overlooked. I spent $60 on some cloth diapers, plastic pants, and a changing table mattress. I never located diaper pins and diaper pails which, to me, is some really bad product placement (given my profession's calling to help customers discover tangential interests and/or necessities simply by co-locating like items, when retailers drop the ball, I cut them no slack).
But the $60 was nothing compared to the big, blaring, "YOU ARE INADEQUATE" blanket that dropped on my head as I left and stuck to me for the rest of the day. From there, we stopped at one more store where I actually had to break into a bag of pretzels, in the car, because I couldn't make the 10 minute journey to my home. Oh! And, guess who thought she would only gain weight in/around her growing baby? That would be me, and that is not even close to what's really happening to my body. Add to "YOU ARE INADEQUATE," "YOU ARE GAINING TOO MUCH WEIGHT WHICH EVEN MAKES YOU AN INADEQUATE PREGNANT PERSON." My next doctor's appointment is Tuesday, so I will be able to ask the expert if I'm totally blowing it. I should also get to see another ultrasound, and not a moment too soon: I need to see some evidence of this living miracle to buttress my sagging confidence and to encourage me through this rough spot. Then maybe I will resume bidding on pumps.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Babyface
Lately, I keep noticing something: babies are really, really cute. Being infertile, I guess I just became impervious to the munchkins.
Uhem, I , ah, did it on purpose. I ignored them because who wants to be the fox always jumping for the grapes and never tasting them? Better to just assume they're sour and walk away.
But, I swear I haven't seen an ugly baby in weeks! Maybe it's a cosmic cycle. It could happen.
In other news, I placed my first Ebay bid, and I am currently checking my item like a purebred gambling junkie. Already, I am dreading the next 1 day, 18 hours because it is going to be full of me obsessing about my item, checking, bidding, obsessing, etc. I am bidding on a breast pump (NIB, so quit judging me!). Check it out - http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=160301607469&ru=http%3A%2F%2Fshop.ebay.com%3A80%2F%3F_from%3DR40%26_trksid%3Dm38%26_nkw%3D160301607469%26_sacat%3DSee-All-Categories%26_fvi%3D1. In case that link doesn't work, it's the new Playtex EMBRACE double electric and petite pump, and it's currently at $60, which is the bargain of a lifetime. I started looking at pumps yesterday, and I liked this model which retails for about $160 and doesn't come with the petite pump which I've heard is the bomb. It's surprising difficult to write while toggling back to Ebay, so lets wrap this one up early. Wish me luck :-)
Uhem, I , ah, did it on purpose. I ignored them because who wants to be the fox always jumping for the grapes and never tasting them? Better to just assume they're sour and walk away.
But, I swear I haven't seen an ugly baby in weeks! Maybe it's a cosmic cycle. It could happen.
In other news, I placed my first Ebay bid, and I am currently checking my item like a purebred gambling junkie. Already, I am dreading the next 1 day, 18 hours because it is going to be full of me obsessing about my item, checking, bidding, obsessing, etc. I am bidding on a breast pump (NIB, so quit judging me!). Check it out - http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=160301607469&ru=http%3A%2F%2Fshop.ebay.com%3A80%2F%3F_from%3DR40%26_trksid%3Dm38%26_nkw%3D160301607469%26_sacat%3DSee-All-Categories%26_fvi%3D1. In case that link doesn't work, it's the new Playtex EMBRACE double electric and petite pump, and it's currently at $60, which is the bargain of a lifetime. I started looking at pumps yesterday, and I liked this model which retails for about $160 and doesn't come with the petite pump which I've heard is the bomb. It's surprising difficult to write while toggling back to Ebay, so lets wrap this one up early. Wish me luck :-)
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