Fruit in my dessert

upside down day

I have always enjoyed hanging upside down. I never got rid of the feeling that you have as a baby/kid where everything looks and feels better when you look at it and feel it from upside down.

This could explain why I had such a great day today. Today was the upside down version of the last sixteen months. I got up, showered, put on fancy (a low high heel was involved) clothes and went to work. B and H walked me to the bus stop. I got on the bus and they went for what would normally be the walk that I take with H in the morning. I then commuted to the office. By myself.

I went to a place I've worked before - twice actually, to do a new job, with new people. It was kind of a perfect day. There were a lot of warm welcomes from people I call friend, a familiar environment, systems, passwords (even my outgoing voicemail message was still saved), but it was for a new job, with new things to absorb and learn. One of the reasons I've gone back to this particular place more than once is because it truly is the best place I've ever worked. The people there are those good people who care about what they do and care about the person in the next cube over, and remember what their first day was like when they were new and make sure new (or sort of new) people feel welcomed. This was true 10 years ago when I first worked there in a different city with different people and six years ago when I started at another office...you get my drift. I've worked enough places with enough people to know this doesn't happen everywhere. And, as a bonus, I actually believe in the work they do and the work I do for them. It's kind of Kumbaya in this way. There are frustrations and issues and days I've wanted (and am sure I will want to again) to pull my hair out while working there, but on balance, it's a great place to spend your day.

Where was H today? Here's the other half of the upside down part. B was home with him, and out with him, and to the doctor with him (thank you, double ear infection), and to baby yoga, the grocery store, the dry cleaner, and home for a 3 hour and 45 minute nap (he knows not to expect this every day). And they both had some obvious fun. B was nervous, in the "I want to do this well and get in a good rhythm" kind of way. I was nervous, in the "I hope B doesn't want to quit his new job after the first day because I'm pretty sure I'm going to love my new job" kind of way.

When I got home and we talked about our days out loud to each other and started to do the end of day activities, the upside down continued. I talked about some of the exciting things I learned. He asked me the same question more than once and said, "did I already ask you that?" I had extra energy to deal with H's pre-dinner whine, and to bath him, and change him, and clean up his toys. I even did the garbage/recycling. B talked about how he realized how easy it was to not finish a task like putting the dry cleaning away or calling the cable company and how difficult it was to get work done during the marathon nap because he was sure that H was going to wake up at any moment. B has never given me a hard time for not getting things done as a stay at home mom - he has always been the ultimate supporter and most progressive husband I know - but it was still refreshing and oh so validating to hear my words come out of his mouth.

B was tired. I was tired too, but I had taken an illicit drug called adrenaline many times during the day. They don't let stay at home parents take that drug after the first six weeks of your child's life. We went out to easy dinner and B almost half-jokingly apologized for not having made a dinner (I do this almost daily without the joking part) for us. After H went to bed, B settled in with his computer to catch up on work for a few hours, a nightly ritual usually reserved for me "catching up" on the outside world, maybe a bill or two, and decompressing from a long day with a toddler. I read a magazine! I had the energy to read a magazine! When H woke up and needed settling, I went in with him for a change and sat and rocked with him on the chair for a while, and I wasn't frustrated as I might would have been if I'd spent the whole day with him. It was actually really nice, and after he settled, we just sat for a while, just as B would typically do with him.

I must have asked B three times tonight if he was sure he wanted to do this, stay with H two days a week while I go off to work in the big city. I knew I was projecting and protecting but I was scared he would change his mind. Even if he does, I know there are other options. But I really like this option best. He said he wanted to do it, that he had fun and this was day one.

The only not-upside down thing about today is that I said I was tired and going to bed three hours ago and yet here I sit typing away way past my bedtime while he is asleep, magazine still open in hands (a la Weekend at Bernie's), all the lights on around him. I am a lucky girl. H is a lucky boy. Seriously.

Please don't confuse upside down with inside out. It's not the same thing.

chocolate

Today, I went on a chocolate trolley tour of the big city with a friend. It was a birthday gift from my mother-in-law and it was so much fun. Here are some of the things I learned:

1. If you are so late for the trolley tour that they have to leave without you, they will drive you on your own private trolley to the first stop of the tour, with a friendly attitude to boot.
2. If you leave your wallet on said trolley in the mad dash to tip the driver for being so nice (forgetting to do the actual tipping), another driver will retrieve your wallet and hold on to it for you while you sit at the bar drinking Tanqueray, coffee, and eating luxurious mouthfuls of mousse, laughing all the while.
3. Professional actors who are paid to pretend they are "crazy chefs" on chocolate tours should really wear undershirts under their chef jackets and stick to accents that are real or really well tested.
4. Malcom X was once a busboy at the same hotel where John Wilkes Booth stayed the week before he assassinated Lincoln (who, I decided today, I think was hot - maybe ugly hot, but hot nonetheless) which was also the same hotel where JFK proposed to Jackie. They also have really good coffee there.
5. No wonder Tollhouse has the best chocolate chip cookie recipe around. The woman who made the first chocolate chip cookie was/became/or sold her recipe to (sorry, we weren't the BEST listeners on the tour) Tollhouse.
6. Charging a high flat fee for an all-you-can-eat chocolate brunch is a brilliant money making scheme. People get so excited to do it, but seriously, there is only so much chocolate you can eat before you feel like you might be sick. It is nearly impossible to eat your money's worth of chocolate.
7. Nonpareils thrown in one's pocket to eat later - while reminiscent of something someone's grandmother might do - is a great way to help you get through the non-chocolate remainder of the day.
8. I need to get out more with girlfriends. Alone. Without children. Without husbands. It is quite reinvigorating and delightful.

Post chocolate tour learnings:

1. The financial crisis does not appear to be affecting the shoppers at Target.
2. New hangers can make my day brighter (and alleviate some of my clutter frustration), even after a fabulous chocolate tour.
3. It's not too late for me to get excited about the NCAA tournament, even though I didn't fill out a bracket.

What I am learning right now: HD has decided to take after BOTH of his parents. He is an early bird and a night owl, all in one. Don't be jealous.

clutter

Clutter makes me angry, sad, anxious, depressed, and not fun to be around. Unlike some things that I don't like, I can't live with clutter. I can't see past it, especially when I'm anxious about anything else - which I know I am right now. It interferes with my daily functions. It paralyzes me. I hate that it owns me like this and maybe some day it won't, but for now, the only cure is to get rid of the clutter. But it keeps coming back. And it's making me nutty. Tonight, I won a small battle, but clutter is definitely winning the war.

On top of and very related to the clutter nuttiness is my need to make sure all of the details of our finances are run as if we could be audited and thrown in jail at any given moment if I don't document every single penny coming in and going out and transferring between, if I don't fix the mistakes that vendors, providers, and others make to keep the imaginary universal checkbook balanced.

I am sure that neither of these issues have anything to do with my need for control, particularly during times of change and upheaval where I may feel just slightly less in control of my world than normal. I'm sensing a trend. If only love truly did make the world go around.

20/20

Because we're dorks and worriers and in a transition that might mean lower quality health insurance at a higher price, B and I went to get our eyes examined today. He went a few years ago, but I don't think I've been since childhood. Because I have some anxiety about medical stuff, I assumed I would find out that my vision, like so many minor things seems to be doing these days, is fading. So I was pretty happy when I found out that I have perfect vision. Not just 20/20, but perfect pressure, perfect blood vessels, perfect eyes. The doctor actually said to me, "if all my patients had your eyes, I'd be out of business." I may have blushed.

You can decide if it's cute or pathetic that I'm excited about my perfect vision, or my need to have my vision even MORE perfect than my husband's (apparently he's got great vision too - blah, blah). I think it says a lot about where I "am" right now and my need for things to go well, even things as minor (though quite important) as my vision. It just feels nice to have an easy win, one that I didn't have to work for, and one that I have no control over. If only health insurance covered more frequent visits to the eye doctor when you don't have a problem.

I'm going to go try to shut my perfect eyes. And turn off the rest of me too so I can stop making mental lists to fix all the not perfect things, at least for a few hours. Here's hoping for more easy wins for you and me tomorrow.

Dreamer

I don't consider myself a dreamer. I was at dinner tonight with a friend who considers herself a dreamer. And I would say that in the short time I've known her I agree with that assessment. I think of my husband as somewhat of a dreamer too. I have dreams, nightmares actually, but if we were playing some kind of word association game, I would call myself a planner much more easily than a dreamer.

But, the thing is, I am a dreamer. It's just that I NEED my dreams to come true so I don't allow myself to take the dreams too far without a PLAN. I can't stand disappointment and am easily disappointed, so if I'm going to allow myself to dream, I have to make plans to make the dream come true. This could explain some of the anxiety that leads to the aforementioned nightmares.

Anyways, I'm also a horoscope believer, and lately I've found them to be extra deep and somewhat perplexing, as if the universe has a plan for me and it's my job to sit and wait for it (I think the horoscope people have been talking to Oprah). Here is today's (courtesy of tarot.com via igoogle.com):

Your confusion may reach new heights today before beginning to finally dissipate. Of course, others might not think this is so productive, yet you are smiling because your visionary dreams and soft intuition can show you a healthy way through this extraordinary time. But avoiding the intensity is not a great idea; it's more important that you embrace the changes now, as they can teach you a lot about your true character.

It appears that I'm not only a dreamer, but a visionary too. Oh, the pressure. What should I be intuiting? Which changes should I be embracing? What are they going to teach me about my character? How can I plan for this change? What should I be envisioning and dreaming about? Avoid intensity? I thought you knew me. Here comes the anxiety. Within the hour I will be having a dream where I will be in some kind of hotel-like building where I cannot find the stairs or use the elevator to get to the room I need to get to. People will tell me things like, "oh, you can't get there from here," as if I'm crazy, and there is a chance that there will be a logistical challenge of some kind with HD (in the dream only, I hope) as well. Ah, to be a dreamer.

ENFJ or ISFP

B sent me a link today to this cool site that does a Myers-Briggs evaluation of your blog. Here's what the Typealizer has to say about Fruit In My Dessert. I'm an artist!

I was shocked at first to find out that my ENFJ (Extroversion, iNtuition, Feeling, Judging) self writes a blog that is ISFP (Introversion, Sensing, Feeling, Perceiving). I have not done a complete analysis or review of what this really means, but I'm a big believer in this stuff and can make a quick assessment.

I do not write completely freely on my blog because I don't want to offend, irritate, or upset friends or family or others. In real life (as my closest loved ones and colleagues might mention) I have very little problem telling you exactly how I feel and how you are a part of that for better or worse. I also do a lot more fact-based and article-based talking on my blog, whereas in real life, I just tell you what I think about a topic or issue with no need to back it up with any real data, unless you make me. My blog world is more concrete than my real world has ever been, which would make my high school Physics teacher and soccer coach proud.

It appears the only element missing from my equation on both fronts is the big T - Thinking. Lucky (or not) for me, that doesn't actually mean I don't think. Instead:

Those who prefer thinking tend to decide things from a more detached standpoint, measuring the decision by what seems reasonable, logical, causal, consistent and matching a given set of rules. Those who prefer feeling tend to come to decisions by associating or empathizing with the situation,looking at it 'from the inside' and weighing the situation to achieve, on balance, the greatest harmony, consensus and fit, considering the needs of the people involved.

As noted already, people who prefer thinking do not necessarily, in the everyday sense, 'think     better' than their feeling counterparts; the opposite preference is considered an equally rational way of coming to decisions (and, in any case, the MBTI assessment is a measure of preference, not ability). Similarly, those who prefer feeling do not necessarily have 'better' emotional reactions than their thinking counterparts. (source: Wikipedia)

In other words, Kumbaya, dammit!

nice - time

Nice. It's a word that I don't particularly like. It feels bland and meaningless for some reason - is it its overuse, its lack of rich sound? I often hear people talking these days about other people and how they're not nice. I sometimes even partake in such conversation. This often coincides with conversation about people being and feeling rushed. It's hard to stop and be nice when you don't have the time. Well, I've noticed a lot lately, maybe because I often have a baby with me, or maybe because I look like I need help, or maybe because I have more time to notice than I did before, that people are actually often nice. Strangers do take the time to be nice for no other reason than to be nice. Here are some examples, just from today:

1. Man at the park brought his dog over to meet HD when the man saw how excited HD was about the dog, and then engaged in brief conversation with me about children and grandchildren and first words.

2. Security guard at an office building walked way out of her way to open the door for HD and me and stroller going in AND out of the building.

3. Another mom at the Children's Museum gave HD a golf ball (in the golf ball room). She also assured me that it was completely fine for him to follow her boys around the room, watching and mimicking everything they were doing. I think HD was in half of their photos.

4. A few people I don't know wrote nice things to me about my blog.

It's little stuff, right? But it's the little stuff that matters most sometimes. So, take some time to be nice...even to yourself.

sixteen

My baby is 16 months old. How did this happen? He is asserting his independence more than ever before.  It is at once liberating and terrifying - for both of us - and did I mention exhausting? His favorite things these days are trucks and buses and birds and dogs and things that just GO. He'll wave at the dogs and get close but won't touch them. He doesn't mind being licked. He loves to play catch with a ball almost as much as his dad does. All vehicles are "TrrkK" and all animals are "BaBa." He loves to hug and sometimes it's hard to tell when it's going to be a hug and when it's going to be a wee bit more than a hug, a shove perhaps. I think he knows the difference and that one is much preferred over the other, and perhaps how to switch midstream.

He goes to get things now, and to give things, and runs away, and comes back - usually. He has words - we think. And he talks a ton about things we can't quite understand and doesn't seem to mind if anyone is listening or not. BH and I often guess the exact same word or phrase from the sounds he makes. Is that because he is making sounds that are like our sounds? I can't imagine why he would talk so much in this house. He now makes the "shhhhhhhhhhhh" sound that the white noise rain that we've been playing for him since birth makes and thinks it's pretty funny. It will be helpful when we travel :)

Favorite foods these days include avocado, canteloupe, honeydew, bananas, whole wheat bread, cream cheese, peanut butter, eggs, blueberry waffles, pancakes, milk, all of his Earth's Best cookies and crackers, and in the last few days he has actually started to eat carrots, and is also getting into "dipping."

Favorite books include Pat the Bunny (one I'd never read before now), his Dog book, his Fire Truck book (with actual wheels on it), his Truck book, and generally any book that he can interact with and manipulate. He will indulge us by listening to at least part of any book (or magazine or newspaper) we choose and BH has read many Dr. Seuss stories at bedtime every night. He breaks the long ones up over a few nights.

I still miss HD when he sleeps, even when it's sometimes in our bed because of teeth or ears or who knows what. I dread when he wakes up too soon because of those same teeth or ears or just because it's five am and that's when it's time for the boys to play in this house (even when BH isn't home).

He has recently begun to love and need to be a part of everything in the grown up world: sitting upright on chairs with his back against the back, opening and closing the doors and gates when coming and going, including attempts at the heavy car door, eating off our plates even when the same thing is on his, drinking out of glasses without tops, carrying around a coffee mug to match mine.

It appears climbing was not a phase. He hurdled up the bleachers today at the local little league park, attempts all sorts of things at the playground that are for kids a bit bigger than he, with me serving as the intermediary step between ladder rungs and ropes. I know when he's climbing on a chair because he has to use so much effort he grunts for it. He'll stand on anything to give him that extra inch - his water bottle tipped on its side like a log, a book, a baseboard heater, a dish, anything at all. He's moments away from getting that leg over the side of the tub to get in without assistance.

This particular week the word "No" and all its variations seem to have a diminished effect, while sometimes just a look from me (and not even one of my really mean ones) can send him to the floor in devastation. He's definitely feeling like he doesn't have control of much these days and I'm working to figure out how I can give him more - having him help me beat and scramble the eggs tonight for dinner was not perhaps my best foot forward on this front and left us both in tears, but we're a work in progress.

He has developed a squinty, put-on smile for the camera in the last couple of weeks that makes me laugh pretty hard and makes many of his pictures have his eyes closed. The only thing better than this cheesy cheese is his real smile, his real laugh, his giggles when he's surprised or tickled or sees daddy come in to the room. He is still in love with peek a boo and has been since he was about six weeks old. He is now in total control of the game as he covers his own eyes with his own hands in very dramatic fashion. When he's really tired he sometimes forgets why he's put his hands there in the first place and starts to rub his eyes.

Speaking of really tired, he loves to take the blankets in the living room and roll around in them on the floor when it's close to bedtime, and if I'm with him we do it together, him climbing all over me, occasionally lifting my shirt to reveal my rock hard abs and smacks them as if he's my personal trainer and he's pretty disappointed in the progress. Belly buttons are gaining interest as are eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. He loves to stick his finger in mine for some reason.

He watches - everything and everyone. He's pretty outgoing but cautious. He's...well...he's HD and he's pretty terrific.

Thanks for indulging me. I've been wanting to do this every month or so since his birth and never have. Maybe the next one will be shorter, but probably not.

away

I've been away - physically. Lovely trips and sad trips and everything in between.

Now I'm away - mentally. Well, not away, but not sticking in any one place for too long. Lots of lists. Lots brewing over here. Always too much or not enough. Never in between.

I'd say I waited until I was too tired to write anything good. But it's been a long time since I haven't been too tired to write anything good.