Archive | January 7, 2008

I wish I could go back to college..

By on January 7, 2008 in The Blushing Bride

Pilot.Originally uploaded by SarahLena.

So, new at my Flickr stream are about eighty thousand photos I took today while we were out and about on our excursion. I typically suck at picture taking, but the Museum of Flight in Birmingham had such extraordinary stuff to shoot that I was rather pleased at my shots. I’m now wondering if I just have crappy stuff to take pictures of, since I’m clearly uber-talented behind the lens.

(ha.)

There are also some shots of the University of Montevallo, where Bryan graduated and I attended (he will be the first to point out that HE walked away with a degree and I did not). The campus is just breathtakingly beautiful, and today was the most perfect day to visit. The weather was spring-warm, and we walked the cobblestone hand-in-hand and felt like children again.

Until my hip popped and I had to beg that we return to the car. Yes, my hip gave out on me. I’m ancient, folks. Ancient. (Quick question: when did college kids get so YOUNG?)

But, that gave us a reason to drive to Five Points and dine at Jim ‘n Nick’s BBQ, one of the better meals I’ve had as of late. I love finding out of the way places to eat.. and while Jim ‘n Nick’s is a chain, the food was outstanding and the neighborhood was quirky enough to satiate me.

All in all, we had a fabulous day. We’re probably staying “land locked” until our family vacation for Bryan’s birthday: we plan on packing up the fam for a beach outing.

God help us all.

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My Dear Husband

By on January 7, 2008 in The Blushing Bride

As I was withering away yesterday on the couch after our Sonic excursion, my husband went on a honey-do spree.  And as he whisked from task to task, attending to so many even I had forgotten a few of them, I marveled at how incredible I truly find him.

He and I work in different ways. I am a “do-it-as-you-go”er, preferring to handle things as they come instead of waiting. This means that, when I am finished with a glass or a plate, I’ll wash it or put it away when I’m finished. Bryan is a “wait-until-you-have-time”er, meaning he is usually so booked that everything will be put off until he has the time to tackle several things at once.

At first, I thought we would never sync that way. But then I realized that my picking up after him kept the house manageable, and his waiting means that he could tackle many tasks at once without my help. So we were saving eachother’s sanity, in the long run.

I still marvel at his use of power tools. I can use a power drill, don’t get me wrong, but he does it with such panache and dexterity that I’d be embarrassed to even try in his presence. He makes it look easy, in the kind of way that Bob Ross made us all think we could paint happy trees. And then we wanted to stab ourselves in the eye with the paintbrush when we tried.   

But perhaps the way that he most often sweeps me off my feet is by just DOING shit. He won’t ask me if he should, or won’t rub in the fact that he’s doing it.. it’s often quiet and unexpected. Like, when he’ll take all of the overnight feeding shifts with Tony so I can sleep. He won’t ask, he won’t nudge.. it’s just done. And I wake up nine hours after I fell asleep. Or when he’ll clean house or put clothes away. It’s wonderful.

He’s wonderful. He’s pretty amazing that way.

I lurve him.

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9 to 5..?

By on January 7, 2008 in The Mommy

This is my baby-related post for the day.  I actually started my non-baby post last night, as I was waiting for the Binja to fall asleep.  Oh, and we call him Binja now.. it’s for “baby ninja”.  Why?  Because my husband would dry hump this guy if given the opportunity, and is hoping that Tony will develop ninja skills if we “subtly” move him in that direction.

I’m having some serious anxiety issues with going back to work. This goes beyond any rational explanation because, well, it’s stupid. (Nice logic, huh?) When I was 10 months pregnant, or hell.. pregnant at ALL, I never had any sort of anxiety dreams. Not about labor, or about parenting, or about losing the baby, or ANYTHING. I had one or two about breastfeeding (psychic friends much?), but that was it. But now that I’m due to return to work in ~ a week? JesusGod, my sleep is permeated with them.

Will I have enough time to get ready in the morning without totally disrupting my son’s routine? (And I use the word routine loosely.) Will my son hate me for leaving him for eight hours a day? Will they look at me differently when I return to work? Will they judge me for not being back to the size 10 I was pre-pregnancy? Will I face resentment from having have someone else pick up my slack in my absence? Will I be able to switch back into the mindset of the detail-focused business woman after eroding to only “bottle-maker”?

This morning, I’m visiting my old college campus with my husband (who is also an alumnus), so I knew I was going to have to get up early to get the day started. (I say “early” like I don’t normally rise at six-thirty, but now there’s a purpose.) I heard the baby stirring around 5:30, so I begrudgingly pulled myself out of bed, made a bottle to warm, and headed in to get him. HE WAS STILL ASLEEP. So I had enough time to shower, dry my hair, and type a post before he woke up. Which alleviates a huge worry.. I think mornings will be okay. (For the most part. I know there will be surprises here and there.)

And I bought a new day planner a few weeks back. It’s color coded and ready for the year. (Honesty break: I actually bought TWO because I messed the first one up by only having black ink to fill it in, and then anxiety set in that I couldn’t “read” it at a glance. OCD.) So I can maybe focus on details.

As for the judgement, only time will tell. This week, I plan to buy some new work clothes (since my fat ass can’t fit in my FABULOUS and QUALITY size 10 wardrobe anymore) and get my hair cut and colored. Even if I don’t look fabulous by my start date, I’ll at least feel like I put some effort into looking .. not mommy like.

I feel awful saying that. Moms are beautiful. I am one. But you have to admit, there are days.. yesterday, alone, I was spit up on, peed on, covered in pet hair, and I cleaned a massively toxic diaper that ended up covering my hands to my wrists. As I caught myself in the mirror while doing laundry, I thought, “Holy shit.. professional, you are not.”

(Yes, I think like Yoda in my head.)

So there’s my anxiety for the day. I know I’ll make it through because, well, there’s no other choice. And I realize how INCREDIBLY blessed I am to be dropping my Binja off with family instead of some strangers at a facility (for now.. those days will come later), so I realize that there’s one more anxiety I’ve been spared. (Thanks, Mom!) And in a week, it will all be a distant, sleep-deprived memory.

I hope.

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