what does Lisa say about it?

NEW BLOG

2010-10-03T15:43:00.001-07:00

There's a new blog in town! I clearly haven't updated this blog in over a year, but I've started a new one and it's going to be my (mostly full-time) job! Please go to FlawlessMom.com and read at your leisure!

Also, follow me on twitter https://twitter.com/flawless_mom

Flawless Mom is about EVERYTHING having ANYTHING to do with being a wife, mom, woman, stress-case.

Thanks for reading.
Lisa

July 26, 2009

2009-07-26T22:24:00.000-07:00

It's been over six months since I've blogged. There's not just one reason for that... There are many. Start with the fact that I can't seem to focus long enough to sit down and do anything that takes great thought, add the fact that I'm tired all the time and mix in a dash of being paralyzed from the overwhelming amount of things I want to say.

I promised myself I'd get in bed by 11:00 tonight, so I'm not going to write a lot. I just wanted to write SOMETHING to get the ball rolling again.

Garrett is blowing our minds on a regular basis. I actually hope I have some time in the next couple of days to read my blog and see how he blew our minds in the past, but I couldn't have known all that was coming. He's not even two-years-old, and yet he's this total person. He has such a big personality, he's very particular (which I hear is a typical Virgo trait), he's warm and funny and amazingly smart. I know every mom thinks this about their kids, but I'd like to think I'm being objective. He can be a real jerk when he's tired. (See? Objectivity!)

I genuinely don't know how to get everything out; all the things I want to convey about how being Garrett's mom has changed every aspect of my life. I'll try to think about it and write again in the next day or two. I don't want to take six months off again, so I'm going to give this another go. Baby steps. That's one of things Garrett has taught me. He's also taught me how to be silly, how to find wonder in a leaf, how to do great sound effects, and how to love even deeper than I thought was possible.

Now if he could only write this blog for me. He'll probably be able to in a few months. Okay, okay... A year! (See? Objectivity!)

January 13, 2009

2009-01-13T23:17:00.000-08:00

Every week my mom spends a few hours at the Alzheimer's ward at the old-age home where my aunt lives. She entertains the people there and plays trivia games with them. She makes them laugh and she makes them feel important. Then she feeds my aunt in the dining room because my aunt can't feed herself... Unless it's chocolate pudding.

Today I spent time there, too. It was the first time I've seen my aunt in a year, I'm ashamed to say. But it's been very busy and whenever my mom has gone, I've been unable to. That's no excuse. But my aunt doesn't know me at all anymore, so I was mostly going for my mom. And my mom was okay with me going whenever our schedules meshed. Today was the day.

My mom had told me about it there; shared stories about the people and who they had once been. She told me she played games with them and that most of them were sleeping when she was there. I was ill prepared. First, I was actually surprised at how clean and bright and beautiful the place was. I was selfishly grateful for not being immediately depressed at the sight of a dark, sad place. My mom took me upstairs to where she was in the middle of her session and introduced me to the people who were awake. I think she even introduced me to those who were asleep. Even though she knew everyone's name, she made them tell me their names so they could use their minds, and their voices. Most of them seemed proud to know their name, and to meet Joan's daughter.

Then my mom informed them all that I was on television. This seemed mildly exciting. I explained the shows I work on and then I had a seat and watched as my mom asked them questions about who invented the telephone and what it means to be "red in the face". "Embarrassed!", shouted on of the women, jovially. "Angry!", shouted another. My mom let both answers win.

Then my mom had those whose eyes were open tell me what they had done for a living before coming there. Well, before than even. One was a clerk, one a model, one made clothes for movie stars. One woman has a daughter who is a judge and one man was a producer on TV shows in the 50's. He didn't tell me that. My mom did.

At this point I was too enthralled with my mom and all of her kindness and strength and beauty to be saddened by what was around me. That was my first lesson of the day. My mom rules. I've always known that. People love my mom and they always have. But it was so great to see her in a light I hadn't seen her in. She's amazing and I have a renewed admiration for her.

Then we all went into the dining room (after many protestations from those who wanted my mom to stay there and talk to them a few more hours!) THAT is where it all hit me. These people. These PEOPLE! They were all something once. And now here they are not even knowing who they are. Nurses are feeding them. Some of them aren't even eating. One woman desperately wants to go home and is trying to find someone to take her. Most can't walk on their own. Most don't recognize their closest relatives.

Outside everyone's room is a shadow box with photos from their younger days, a doll they love, a special trinket, a memory. Those who visit can see what they used to look like, how they used to smile, maybe even who they loved. But here they are now and they are like empty shadow boxes. You can see in their eyes that they were vibrant once but now the lives they led are missing.

It was one man in particular who really got to me. I had seen his shadow box because my mom pointed it out to me. He had been so handsome. He had a beautiful family and was very successful. In the dining room my mom said, "That's the handsome man I showed you". I only saw his back. He was wearing slacks and a beautiful dress shirt, which is probably how he always dressed. He was slumped over in a wheel chair being fed by his caretaker and his daughter came in with a photo album. He paid no attention to her and seemed angry that he had to eat. I felt such sorrow for all the happy days he had lived and all the sad ones that he now lived.

In that moment I thought, "What's it all worth? Why push so hard and love so much if that's how it could all end up?" In the next moment I thought differently, "If that's how it could all end up... I better live every day to the fullest." FUCK sweating the small stuff. I want to be happy every day of this life. Every moment that I have with my family, I want to be a beautiful moment. I want my son to look back on his days with me and think he had an amazing childhood, an amazing family. I want to do silly things and fantastic things and I want to be as happy as I can possibly be at every moment of every day.

I am really going to try to do that. I wish there was a way to harness the determination I felt sitting in that room looking at these people. I hope with all of my soul that the lives they used to live were filled with beauty. Because if not, I truly don't understand the way the world works.

I'm going to try to go there with my mom at least once a month now. I want to remind myself of the lesson I learned (or re-learned) today. And I want to be there for her as well. I'd like to be there to cushion the blow because she has made so many of my days happy and while we're all alive and aware... We should do what we can to bring each other beauty, too.

January 4th, 2009

2009-01-04T00:02:00.000-08:00

I'm a mess. For those of you who thought my only emotion was, "grateful", I thought I should let you know that I can also be an anxious, scared, stressed, crazed mess.

I'm still thankful and happy, don't worry your pretty little head about that! But I've got some shit going on that I feel like I need to get to the bottom of pretty fast. I know some of what's causing it:

The thought of going back to work,
The feeling that I'll never be as organized as I want to be,
The idea of possibly having a second child (and when?)(and all the stuff that goes with that!),
Wanting to be better at all the stuff I try to do,
Etc. Etc. Etc.

I'm on edge lately and I don't like it. I hate wasting precious time being fearful or nervous or... Terrified. I want to fix whatever this is as soon as possible so I can just get back to being MOSTLY grateful and happy. I'll keep you updated on my progress. I'm sure you're riveted.

In the meantime, Garrett got his first real boo-boo. He cut his lip and nose on a wood platform in the garage. His first manly, bloody ouchy. I saw it happen and, according to my brother, I announced it like a sports caster, "AND he's BLEEDING! He's bleeding!"

I HATE blood and I REALLY HATE seeing Garrett bleed! It sucks! Now his perfect little face has two big, red cuts. Today he bonked his head approximately thirty times and cried at about three of them. Bogie even knocked him over once. I think this is the beginning of a lot of boyish bruises, and hopefully very few scars. Man, I better learn how to deal with this crap. Apparently once they start walking, running, bicycling, skateboarding, and general mayhem follows. I always wanted a boy. And here he is!

December 31st, 2008

2008-12-31T17:55:00.000-08:00

The symbolism of 2008 was not lost on me as I removed Alanis Morisette's "Jagged Little Pill" from my car's cd player and replaced it with songs about the A B Cs.

2008 was my first full year as a mom, and a year filled with huge adjustments, changes, and awakenings. (No, Jeff. Not the movie with Robert Deniro and Robin Williams.)

In 2008 I lost and mourned a 21-year friendship, but I was able to rekindle some friendships from my past that I hadn't realized how very much I missed. I also made some new friends who are already very dear. The saying about closing a door was never truer.

In 2008 I worked a pretty good amount, and it is only now that I am realizing how grateful I should be (and am). The truth is, it's hard to be at work and think of anything other than getting home to my boys. But I'm thankful I was able to contribute, and that I could do so with relatively little time spent out of the house. It's just that every hour away from here seems like an eternity. But there are so many moms who have to work full time and don't have the luxury of working as little as I do. So I am truly humbled and thankful.

In 2008, my father recovered beautifully from his stem-cell transplant and nearly-fatal infection. Last night we broke bread with the man who donated his stem cells to save my father's life. It was surreal, to say the least. He is an incredible person with an amazing family and it was an honor to meet him. Even writing that sentence I can't believe it. My dad looks incredible these days, and seems to feel pretty darn good too. My mom is radiant and, aside from a few ailments that she tries not to complain about, she is in great health. I'm telling you, the ways 2007 ended... I never could have predicted 2008 would end this way. And with the way I feel about my folks, I couldn't feel luckier to get to be with them still, and in good health.

I got to see Russ FINALLY work on something he loves and is passionate about in 2008. He and my brother sold an on-line talk show to Sony and it seems like Russ is almost living his dream: Writing, directing, producing, editing... Basically everything he's brilliant at. Best of all, he makes his own schedule and is able to make Garrett's doctor's appointments and even sneak away to the zoo! It's about time. Today, the internet. Tomorrow... Cable? I am still in awe of the man I married, even though we're a tad older, a lot busier, and dorky parents now. He's my dream man. Truly.

In 2008 Garrett learned a few words, learned to walk, got 12 teeth, had lengthy, imaginary phone conversations, enjoyed his gym class, laughed more than I knew was legal, made me laugh more than I knew I could, learned to chew and to drink from a straw, discovered Robek's juice, discovered his hands, and hair, and eyes, and ears and penis, loved taking baths, loved taking walks, stole my heart, filled my soul, and made me more unbelievably grateful and happy than I can even begin to explain.

In 2008 I tried to learn to ease up, let go, and let stuff happen. I still have to practice all of that. I discovered I have more issues than I was aware of, and I let go of things and people that made those issues worse. I learned more about my close friends, I learned to lean on people, I even learned to say, "No". 2008 made me realize how much more growing I have to do, and want to do.

All in all, 2008 was an eventful year. It was also a beautiful year. I pray that 2009 has even more joy and love, laughter and hope, more time with friends, more time with family, more awe, more... More. There is so much more I want to say, and I wish I could say it all more eloquently. But here's to a great 2009.

Happy New Year.

November 30th, 2008

2008-11-30T20:29:00.000-08:00

It occurred to me tonight that it's a miracle that any of us are okay. I mean, it's a testament to the strength of the human spirit that we don't just shoot ourselves before we're fifteen.

There was a baby on the plane today. Oh, I'm in New York, but that's neither here nor there. Well, it's there. But that's another story. So, there was a baby on the plane. A beautiful six-month-old baby. And everyone, including myself, was cooing over this baby. My questions were rapid: "What's her name?" "Has she flown before?" "Is she sleeping through the night?" Then, "I have a 14-month-old. His name is Garrett. This is the first time I've ever left him. Blah blah blah blah blah." But that's not the point.

The point is, I was just one of many people who stopped to look at this baby and tell her she was beautiful and coo and ooh and aah. That's what happens to babies.

Later, at baggage claim, I saw another beautiful little girl. She was about four and she was very cute. But the urge to ask all about her was not there. No one was really looking at her except for people who were a tad annoyed or afraid she was going to run into their legs or touch their luggage.

That's when it hit me. After you're a baby, you're totally on your own. You've gotta do amazing or interesting things to get people's attention because "just being a person" isn't enough. Doesn't that suck? I mean isn't that just a bitch?

At the beginning, all you have to do to get love and attention is just... Be. Any time after that you have to be... Something.

So how do we get through that? It's like we're born famous, and then we start all over again as nobody. I guess it doesn't kill us because we don't remember being babies. If we did, we'd feel like total losers by the time we were seven. God works in mysterious ways.

November 15th, 2008

2008-11-15T20:42:00.001-08:00

I officially finished breast feeding two days ago and I feel a profound sadness that I can't really explain. But I guess I'll try.

I'm sad because I know I'll never hold Garrett that way again for the sole reason of nourishing him. I'm sad because I know there is another phase that has ended and he's even one step closer to growing up. There are so many rewards to this whole parenting thing but I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that there are so many hurts... And I know I have barely scratched the surface.

I still look at him every day in wonder. I can't believe he's my son. And the changes that are taking place daily are truly breathtaking and they're happening so quickly, I feel like I can't keep up.

Last night he said, "Night, Night" when I put him to bed. Today he said "Nana" whenever he wanted a piece of banana at lunch. He's walking faster and exploring more. He's so beautiful that my heart tears at the seams a little every day.

I'm sitting here crying as I write this and I can't really even tell you why. I just have never felt these things before. It's like the beautiful pain you feel when you're a teenager and you feel like you have so much inside that you want to get out but you don't know how. You know that kind of pain that makes you realize you're alive? As you get older you don't need that pain to know you're alive because you have a lot of other indicators: Love, Marriage, Vacations, Wrinkles, Aches, Bills, Obligations...

But having a kid is a kind of rebirth of that sort of beautiful pain. I don't know how else to put it.

The morning feeding has been replaced with our gorgeous walks outside. And I am so grateful to have something like that to look forward to every day. But I'd be a liar if I didn't tell you that I do feel sad. That's all. I know I won't feel this way for too long. I Just needed to get that out.

November 9th, 2008

2008-11-09T21:01:00.000-08:00

No excuses. Sorry. My days are so full, I forget to blog until I'm actually too tired to do it. I need to stop spending 15 minutes on Facebook, and spend it here instead.

Garrett is walking. It's crazy and amazing and exhausting. He has this new sense of independence and curiosity. He laughs so much and now and it's like this new, more powerful laugh. Like, "I can walk, Lady! You are so screwed!"

Today I was a bit on the tired side after throwing a baby shower over the weekend. I really had no desire to get dressed, put on makeup, or move. But having a child will force you up off the couch if for no other reason than to give him a sense that there is something to this world, other than the inside of your house.

The incredible thing is, with a kid you need not venture very far for excitement. Just a few steps outside your front door is a whole world of... Newness.

It was crisp and chilly outside today. It felt like Fall had finally arrived and there was a slight wind. I put on Garrett's sweatshirt and shoes and we went out front. For the first time, we went for a walk with no stroller. It was short, just a few doors down, but it was spectacular. As we walked, I wished I had a video camera strapped to my forehead so I could watch it over and over again. He held my finger with his hand and took big steps, stopping to pick up a leaf for himself, and one for me. Sitting on the sidewalk occasionally to grab a stick or a rock, or put his hands in the grass. I could tell he was loving the sun and wind on his face and the way it felt to walk in those shoes.

When we got back home, I got his firetruck and brought it outside for the first time. He got in, and I pushed him around in it for a while.

The whole thing lasted about 30 minutes and then we went back inside, took off our sweatshirts and shoes, and resumed our indoor activities. I love days like today. Lazy days where the only thing to do is figure out something simple that will make Garrett happy which, in turn, makes me happy.

Once again, I am grateful and I feel so very, very blessed. I wish I could bottle this feeling and drink from it every day later on in life. And I wish I could save some for Garrett just in case he forgets how beautiful life can be.

September 19th, 2008

2008-09-19T22:31:00.000-07:00

Garrett turned one yesterday. I can not figure out for the life of me where the time went. I've heard over and over again how fast it goes when you have a kid, but I had no idea.

He decided a few days ago that he was no longer going to take an afternoon nap. We've gotten into a pretty good routine around here. Wake up, take a nap two hours later for about two hours. Play, eat, and hang out for about four hours... Then take another 90 minute nap. It's during those naps that I get everything done, from laundry to paying bills, to checking email; and every so often, napping myself.

Now there's only the one nap, so there's an extra hour and a half of playing and chasing him around. I love it, but I'm TIRED!!

He had his one-year check-up today and it went swimmingly, thank God. I'm so proud of him, even when we're just taking him to the doctor. I'm just so grateful that he's such a happy kid, and likes people so much. He's a little ray of sunshine, that Garrett. And he seems to make people smile.

I don't know exactly what else to write. I'm so amazed that it's been a year. Russ and I have been reminiscing about the week he was born and much he's changed. He's got this amazing personality, and we're starting to see who he is a lot clearer. Obviously, that is going to change and evolve so many times over the next, I don't know, HUNDRED years! But he's really becoming this person. We have routines and personal jokes and he's funny and smart and and he already knows how to press some of my buttons.

He pretends to talk on the phone, emphatically gesturing and laughing at the hilarious imaginary person on the other end. Sometimes his maraca or his blankie is a phone, too. He knows that the remote control makes the TV work, so he points it perfectly and waits for the channel to change. He already loves books, which makes me very glad, and he "reads" to himself a lot. He'll also hand me a book and crawl into my lap to hear it read. He loves Bogie and the cats, and talks to them in a high-pitched voice. He loves to dance, he has a slow, wry smile, and he talks a lot. I think he's solved half of the world's problems in the back seat of the car. If only we could understand him, we could put his solutions into practice.

He's ticklish and he loves climbing into small spaces. He walks behind anything he can push, but he's not yet ready to walk on his own. He crawls so fast I can barely keep up. He likes to chew on straws, he loves to eat, he's great at going to bed. When he's frustrated he stiffens his whole body and his face turns red. He loves his grandparents, he's very loved, he wants everyone to look at him so he can smile at them. He can be very serious when he wants to be, and he'll furrow his brow to prove it.

He knows about 10 words in sign language. He says "Mama" and "Dada". He also says "Dah!" for Bogie and "KiKah" for the cats. He loves to swing and whenever he hears or sees something new, he puts his hands up and shrugs his shoulders as if to say, "Huh"? And he really listens to the explanation.

That's all I can think of right now. That's a lot of who Garrett is and what he does at a year old. I love him a whole stinking lot. Even after a year, I can't believe we get to spend time with this amazing little guy who is a part of us. How did we get so blessed?

I hope time slows down just a tad. But if it's going to continue to go this fast, I just need to try to pay attention to all the delicious details. I am so very grateful.

September 15th, 2008

2008-09-15T20:41:00.001-07:00

Yes, I realize I haven't been posting. I've been working. Between working and mommy-ing, I'm too tired to post. Work is ending after tomorrow, therefore I shall post more.

I realized today how much more I do because of Garrett. I can honestly not remember a time before Garrett when I just went outside, just to sit on the grass and look around. Today was about the fourth day in a row where we did just that. Put a blanket down, sat, and just... Sat. And looked and smelled and stared and giggled and enjoyed the world. It's the coolest thing ever, explaining a leaf to a baby. I swear he listens and understands.

Just another in a long line of gifts Garrett has given to me in the last 362 days. He'll be ONE on Thursday. This year has flown by so fast, I can't even believe it.

I'm going to get ready for bed. It's 8:45. That's how tired I am. But, I've never been so happy to be so tired. Tomorrow I get to wake up at 6:00, barely be able to open my right eye, and play with my beautiful boy before I go to work for the last time for a while. Then I'm going to have a lot more time to hang out, play, explain leaves, and love life.

Goodnight.

August 29th, 2008

2008-08-29T22:26:00.001-07:00

It wasn't necessarily directed to me, but it was said while he was facing me.

Mama.

In 11 months Garrett hasn't ever (that I know of) made the "M" sound at all. I was beginning to think it wouldn't happen; that one day we'd go to Agic Ountain and ride the Erry Go Round. I thought his favorite food would be Acaroni and Cheese and he'd start drinking Whole Ilk when he turned one next Onth.

He says his "D"s and his "B"s with the utmost clarity. "DaDa has been used to describe everything from Russ to Bogie to, well, everything. And BaBa has become increasingly popular.

But last night Russ and I stood in front of Garrett saying to each other, "Hello Mama" and, "Hello DaDa"... Trying to get the little guy to know our names. And then, with a burst of energy and in a very clear voice he said it: "MAMA"! It was all I could do not to jump up and down. So I jumped up and down and ran into the kitchen and cried a little and ran back in the room and picked him up and hugged him a little too hard and put him back down where I asked him to say it again... Whew... And he did!

Then this morning when I went to get him, he said it again and again and again.

Just when I thought things were perfect. They got more perfecter. I said it.

Euphoria, Thy Name is Mama. At least when Garrett says it.

August 17, 2008

2008-08-17T09:33:00.000-07:00

I believe in Nature vs. Nurture for the most part. I'd say I'm 85% in favor of nature. I believe you can't really help who you love, and I think who we love might be imprinted in our genes.

Case in point: Mary, my grandma on my mother's side, was a gentle woman. I've written about her before. (See: "My Big Rebuttal, about half way down). One of her favorite television shows was "Family Matters", and there was only one reason for it: Steve Urkel. She LOVED Urkel. Could not get enough of him. The way he snapped his suspenders, the way he snorted. Urkel made my grandma laugh the second he came on the screen. Grandma loved herself some Urkel.

Yesterday, Garrett and I were watching "Spongebob Squarepants" when a promo came on about "Family Matters" airing on Nickelodeon. The promo highlighted a certain skinny, bespectacled youth named Steve Urkel. When that kid came on screen my son lit up like a Christmas Tree! He threw his head back and guffawed! HE GUFFAWED! I think he might have even slapped his knee.

And there it was. Proof that we are pre-programmed to love who we love. And further proof that life exists after death. There's a little Grandma Mary in Garrett, and you can't convince me otherwise.

August 10th, 2008

2008-08-10T10:33:00.000-07:00

Well, it happened. The ultimate sacrifice. The moment every mother dreads the second her baby is born.

I had to put on a bathing suit in public so I could swim with my son.

And here's the thing: It wasn't so bad. Know why?

Because I was looking at my beautiful blond boy, and I know he loves the pool and I was putting sunblock over his entire body, careful not to miss one little spot. And I put on his swim diaper and his swim trunks and his swim shirt with SPF. And I got his big floaty thing and I took him outside where his cousins and other new friends were already in the pool. And he squirmed in my arms, wanting to jump in. And my niece was hanging on me, and my nephew was splashing me, and I was a little bit of a nervous wreck trying to watch Garrett and have fun with the kids (and admonish them a bit.)

And in all that brouhaha I plum forgot to think about what I looked like in my bikini.

Okay, I didn't COMPLETELY forget. But I cared a hell of a lot less than I used to. And I'm not saying I'm not still vain and BELIEVE ME, I get a work out in whenever I can: I do sit-ups and push-ups and lunges and squats while Garrett plays. I walk or jog several times a week. I carry a 23 pound KID around all day for goodness' sake!

But, if you ask me if I'd rather hide behind my jeans and t-shirts in the shade, or get in a damn bikini and swim with my son... I choose the latter. No matter who happens to be around. I want Garrett to know that I'm game for anything. I want him to think his mommy is fun and youthful and goofy and weird and willing to swim with him in 90 degree weather with 12 people sitting around seeing her in a bathing suit for probably the first time in 10 years.

We had a good time, Garrett and I. And you know what? I don't even think I looked half bad. And, if I did, Garrett didn't think so. And neither did Russ. And if my men are happy... I'm happy.

One last thing. It's WAY more fun making sure your kid has a good time than it is worrying how your ass looks in a bathing suit.

August 3rd, 2008

2008-08-03T11:03:00.000-07:00

Leaps and bounds.
Leaps and bounds.

This kid is changing so much every day, it's hard to keep up with him!
He's clapping and waving and blowing kisses. He's putting his hands up to ask, "Where?" and "Why"? He's playing peek-a-boo and going a thousand miles a minute across the wood floor, holding a maraca in each hand and using them as skis. And he's eating solid food! Boy oh BOY does this kid like to eat! Holy crap!!

I've been back to work and I enjoy the hell out of it. It's a joy exploring that side of me again; Who I am in front of the camera... How I am outside of the house, with a whole crew of new people. It's fun and exhilarating.

But I miss Garrett so much when I'm gone, it's painful sometimes. Don't get me wrong. It's not all day. It just pops up several, no MANY times and it feels like someone punched me in the chest. And then it's all I can do not to cry off my fake eyelashes and run off set, into the street where I high-jack a car and make them drive me home. Why I wouldn't just get into my own car is beyond me. Why does it have to be violent?

And during those painful moments I either:
A. Call Russ and find out how he and Garrett are. I try to get every little juicy detail out of him. Poops? Pees? How much has he eaten? How was his nap? Did he have a bottle? Is he playing? Then I ask the same things about Garrett. See what I did there?

B. Remind myself why I'm working. I can't be a great mom if that's all I am. I need to have other outlets. (Right?) I'm also our only way to get family health insurance right now. Russ freelances, so that part is on me. Plus, we're going to need all the extra money we can get. Because this kid's food budget is going to be in the thousands! Oh yeah.. And college.

C. I talk to the person standing closest to me about what a great kid I have.

or

D. I stare at pictures of Garrett and Russ on my iphone.

The good news is, my work is not consistent. I'm off for the ENTIRE month of August. And that makes me so happy, I can't even tell you. The other good news is Garrett is so happy with the people who surround him when I'm not there. He's not missing out on anything. I am. But he's not. The other good news is, if I ever feel I'm working too much, I can stop. I have my priorities straight, and I will not let work tip the scales when I much prefer being Garrett's mom. It's amazing how clear choices have become for me. If anything is to the detriment of my son, it stops. THAT is quite a revelation.

I worked the last couple of weeks and my mother-in-law was here with him. It means the world that she gets to spend so much concentrated time with him. They love each other so much, and she teaches him A LOT while she's here.

So, there's what's been happening. Oh, I guess I could tell you what I've been working on. "Clean House", on the Style Network. My shows start airing in late August. I've shot five so far. I don't know how many more I'll be doing, but I'm lucky to have done any.

Garrett's up from his nap and I'm going to try to convince Russ to take us to brunch!

July 1st, 2008

2008-07-01T22:21:00.001-07:00

Quick thought:

I was watching Garrett pull himself up over and over again tonight. Yeah, he's standing now. Crazy. Anyway, I was watching him pull himself up and talk to himself, "Yah, yah, yah", in this high-pitched voice that he uses sometimes... To amuse himself maybe? And I thought to myself, at what point does one stop doing things just because he feels like it and start doing things to impress others? Or, at least, alter one's behavior because others are watching?

I mean, everything Garrett does now, at this point in his life, is completely pure. It's done because he's learning and just... Being. He's having fun and living life in an absolutely uncontaminated way.

So when does the other stuff start seeping in? Will he know it when it happens? Will I?

Well, I hope he can live life his own way as much as possible. I hope he has the strength to be himself no matter who's around.

Just a thought.

June 25th, 2008

2008-06-25T21:44:00.000-07:00

I was changing Garrett's diaper this morning when he made a sort-of clapping gesture. I encouraged it by saying, "Good job, Garrett! You clapped!" I do that type of thing whenever he's sort-of doing, well... Almost anything. Just in case he's actually doing, well... Something.

He smiled thankfully and we went on with our day.

Then, at breakfast? He clapped again. But this time he giggled a bit when he did it. And when I said, "Good job, Garrett", he laughed and clapped some more. Then he did it again at lunch, in his play pen, at another diaper change, in the blow-up pool, and in the bath. Yup! He's clapping!

Which brings me to my point: I didn't even THINK about all the milestones, all the things he's going to do for the FIRST time. Sure, you know you're going to be excited when he gets a tooth, crawls, walks, talks... All those big things you always hear about. But, I never realized how many tiny, little things I'm going to watch him do for the very first, beautiful, innocent, lovely, magical time.

He was in a pool for the first time on Father's Day.
He clapped for the first time today.
He'll have millions of firsts in his future.

I take things like clapping for granted. I don't think I'm going to anymore.

June 23rd, 2008

2008-06-23T23:12:00.001-07:00

I absolutely have to go to sleep, but I just had to say that I am so very grateful.

Last night Russ and I sat in bed and watched the tape of Garrett's birth, the day leading up to it, and the days after. I had forgotten how exciting and scary those days were. They also were full of the kind of fun and danger that you only get to experience a few times in your life... Staying up really late, giggling, talking about things that make you who you are. We have the last hours of Russ and Lisa on tape, (or mini DV), and the first moments of Russ, Lisa, and Garrett. There's so much love on those tapes... It took my breath away.

Today I took Garrett to My Gym. Have I wrote about that yet? If so, you already know. If not, just know that it's a giant room with a ton of baby-friendly, padded toys and slides and swings and ropes and ball pits and climby things and puppets and things to pull yourself up on, and tambourines, and other babies.

Garrett loves it there so much, I'm usually afraid his head will explode. I always get a little choked up watching him play there. Seeing him happy makes me euphoric. So, I guess My Gym makes me euphoric. Nice.

All this and I've been working this week, and we've found a nanny who seems like she fell from heaven, or at least from the sky, holding an umbrella that gently brought her down to Earth, and onto our doorstep. She feeds Garrett his medicina with a spoonful of azucar, but otherwise she's exactly like Mary Poppins.

So, I'm grateful. Very, very grateful.

June 17th, 2008

2008-06-17T20:29:00.000-07:00

We just got back from a trip to Oregon to see Russ' family.

A lot went on. It was Garrett's first road trip for starters. He was amazing. The ride up took twelve hours the first day and eight and a half the second. We stopped over in Redding. It was very different from our road trips in the past, as we had to stop an average of every 75 minutes to either change or feed Garrett or just to let him get some fresh air or crawl around.

I have to say, all the stopping made it even more enjoyable than usual. It gave us a chance to breathe, look around, have an iced coffee and take in life off of the 5 freeway. There are some very "Lynchian" towns off the 5. My friend Max would love it.

The first day would have only taken us 11 hours, but we got a little sidetracked. Russ and I decided to play a game where we quizzed each other about how much we know about each other. He was amazing. He knew stuff that I couldn't even believe he remembered I had told him. I didn't fare as well. But I SWEAR I listen to him! He just has a lot more to say than I do.

Anyhow, we were playing this game and laughing and such and then we noticed all of these windmills on the side of the freeway. "Look at all of those windmills", I said. "Yeah", said Russ, "And they're all just for art's sake". "No they aren't!", I protested. "I know. I was just kidding", says Russ, "Wait a minute. There are no windmills on the way to Oregon!"

We had gotten off on the 580 somehow. And even though we only went 10 miles out of our way, it happened to be during rush hour and it added an extra hour to our trip. It was funny right when it happened, not so funny in traffic, and funny again the next day. It was a good lesson in not getting too stressed. Within 24 hours you'll be looking back at whatever is bothering you, wondering why you let it bother you so much.

We also managed to eat at practically every Black Bear Diner along the way. It's this great coffee shop with large portions of high-cholesterol food and unbelievable service. The one in Shasta, where we ate on the way home, is the original Black Bear Diner. And it feels like it's been there since the early seventies, even though the diner originated in 1993.

Oregon was a blast. We got to see our beautiful, smart, and wonderful niece graduate from High School. We also got to share in Russ' grandpa's 90th birthday. Grandpa Scott is 90-years-0ld, walks two miles a day, is sharper than a tack and better looking than Paul Newman. Unfortunately, he's Russ' Dad's step-dad. So, there's not one shred of DNA linked to Russ. DAMN! Gramps also happens to be step-dad to Aunt Linda, an avid reader of this blog and a fantastic lady. I was very excited for Garrett to meet her, as she knows everything about him and has imparted some great advice via the comments section.

Garrett got to meet all of his Oregon cousins, aunts, and uncles and play with his grandma a whole lot. He also got to sleep somewhere new for a week, acquire his first cough and out-of-control runny nose, deal with some cold weather, and fall off a bed.

That's right. One night Garrett and I slept for maybe a total of three hours. He had been coughing and sneezing and wheezing all night, and I was doing my best to tend to him. Finally, around 6:30, I brought him into bed with me to feed him and he and I fell into a beautiful, deep sleep. About 45 minutes later I awoke to a loud thud. One of my nightmares had come true: Garrett fell off the freaking bed. According to Russ I screamed, "Oh my god!" I know I had him scooped up in my arms within three seconds of it happening. He cried for about a minute and was, thank God, totally fine. But I couldn't stop thinking about it and picturing it. I felt horrible. I still do.

Toward the end of the trip, Garrett's cold was all but gone. It never dampened his spirits, though. He's such a happy kid and I truly pray that's always the case. The ride home was even better than the ride there. Garrett seemed like a seasoned traveler. He slept more in the car, needed to stop a bit less, and laughed a lot more. I sat in back with him on the ride home which made it better for both of us.

We stopped in Willows, where Russ was born and where we used to stop on all our rides to Oregon. We had some decent Mexican food, a really good night's sleep, and Black Bear Diner fare in the morning. We got home in nine hours and they seemed to fly by.

So, that's the short version of our first family road trip. I feel so lucky to have gotten to do it. And I can't wait for the many trips we'll go on in the future.

May 26th, 2008

2008-05-26T10:14:00.000-07:00

Knock. Knock.

Who's there?

I'm officially somebody's mom.

You're officially somebody's mom, who?

I'm officially somebody's mom who...

Asked the 18-year-old babysitter if my outfit looked okay on our way out the other night.

Had to force myself to talk about things OTHER than Garrett at the party we went to.

Pulled over on a street off Laurel Canyon to breastfeed yesterday.

Feverishly filled a basket with countless jars of organic baby food because they were on sale.

Went to three different supermarkets looking for the organic soy formula we use.

Did cartwheels when Garrett started using sign language to ask for milk.

Laughed until I cried when Garrett giggled a couple days ago.

Cried when no one was looking my first day back to work.

Pumped breast milk during lunch my first day back to work.

Woke up at 2:36 in the morning... Seconds before Garrett woke up because his gums were killing him.

Ran circles around Garrett at the park last week while he was swinging... Just to make him laugh.

Felt insanely guilty after yelling at Garrett because he won't stay still on the changing table anymore. (I've since changed tactics.)

Looks forward to Thursdays, when I take Garrett to gym class and get to watch him explore and play.

Got the best compliment of my life yesterday... When someone told me Garrett's big, open-mouthed smile looked exactly like mine.

May 2nd, 2008

2008-05-02T17:19:00.000-07:00

Today was one of those days I'll never remember five years from now.
I woke up around around 4:45 AM, fed Garrett, and went back to sleep until around 6:15.
I made coffee.
I fed Garrett again. (We're still breastfeeding about 95% and loving it!)
I did some laundry.
I fed Garrett some organic pears and rice cereal.
Garrett took a nap.
I got a call that I was "on avail" for a voice over job.
I did some more laundry.
I picked up my mom's and mother-in-law's Mother's Day gifts.
I had lunch with a friend at the mall and returned a shirt.
I chased Garrett around the house until I was exhausted. (He's military crawling now... FAST!!)
I got a call that I didn't get the voice over job and I was pretty disappointed.
I took some deep breaths.
I strapped Garrett on me and took him and Bogie for a walk.
I'll feed him again a few more times, he'll go to bed, I'll watch some reality TV... Hopefully with Russ, and then I'll go to bed, too.

Just a boring, ordinary day that I'll forget ever happened.
But I have never, ever been more grateful.
Imagine that.

April 22nd, 2008

2008-04-22T21:39:00.001-07:00

My dad pointed out two shining examples of my "Mommy Brain" from my last blog:
It's not an "exposition" game. It's an "exhibition" game.
It's not "The Colosseum". It's "The Coliseum".

Of course, "Mommy Brain" is just something stupid people have coined because they finally have an excuse for their stupidity. I FINALLY HAVE AN EXCUSE!!

In other news, Garrett is pulling himself across the room and will probably start crawling any minute now. His very first destination? An electrical outlet!! Are babies really that cliche'? Luckily, he turned around with one loud, "Garrett, NO!" However, I have to start baby-proofing three weeks ago. I'm not going to go crazy with the baby-proofing. Just the basics: A couple of gates, a couple cabinet locks, and some outlet covers. Probably a coffee table bumper as well. I promised myself I wouldn't get a toilet lock. I'm hoping to keep that promise.

I'm still figuring out the nanny thing and it makes me sick to my stomach. Is it so wrong that I just want to be home every minute hanging out with my child? I mean, that's a little bit of an exaggeration. I'd like to leave occasionally. But the whole, "paying someone to watch your kid" thing really kills me. At least I made it seven months without it. And if I never work again, I might go a lot longer! Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging ANYONE who has someone to watch their kid... I'm actually judging myself for not figuring out how to do it. I just want to find a person who's totally flexible, can watch Garrett ONLY when I need to go to an audition, a job, or the supermarket, and can live on $30 a week. WHY IS THAT SO HARD TO FIND?

And with that, I am going to have a bowl of Cheerios and go to sleep.

April 13th, 2008

2008-04-13T20:55:00.001-07:00

So, a couple of weeks ago baseball season started. I turned on the television to see some of the exposition game being played at the Colosseum between the Dodgers and the Red Sox. I think it was the Sox. I don't remember. Anyway, Garrett was in his Exersaucer and I was straightening up the living room and staring at the TV.

"Garrett, that's mommy's sport", I said. "Those are the Dodgers playing." And then I started to cry pretty hard as I said, "We're going to go to a lot of Dodger games together." I cry too damn much. I cry about everything. I'm a wimpy idiot. I CRIED ABOUT TAKING GARRETT TO BASEBALL GAMES!!!!! Wimp. That's me.

'Twas a rough week. For about two months, Garrett has napped for two-hour stretches every morning about two hours after he wakes up. I get a whole lot done in those two hours: Laundry, cooking, cleaning, dishes, bill-paying, grocery shopping, call-returning, shower-taking, make-up applying, etc. Well, this last week G-Man decided to can the two-hour naps in favor of a half-hour nap, maybe two. It messed with me, man! I completely lost my ability to do ANYTHING except shower and maybe put on some mascara.

That means Russ and I had take-out all week, which really sucked because I had been cooking dinner every single night for two months. There's still no food in the house, and I have to get to the store. But I'm DETERMINED to get back on track starting tomorrow. Naps be damned, I'm cooking dinner and getting control of this house!!!

Garrett is talking a lot. He has a lot to say, my friends. Here's what it sounds like: "Da da da da da dadda dadda da dadda da". He says, "Da Da" when he's upset or happy or tired or wide awake. In his world, "Da da" is like "Smurf" or "Aloha" or "Shalom"... It means whatever you want it to mean. Damn, he's cute. Da da da.

Look at that! I blogged!!

March 24th, 2008

2008-03-24T11:12:00.000-07:00

I absolutely have to start writing every day. Even if it's just a paragraph. Because I swear the longer I go, the more I feel completely overwhelmed by the amount I have to talk about.

Garrett is six months old.

Hilariously, I wrote the above sentences two and a half weeks ago! I find that funny. So, now Garrett is almost SEVEN months old! The last few weeks have been wild. I thought I had stopped all the crying and crazy emotions. I thought I had stopped checking on him constantly as he slept. WRONG!!

One night, about a week or so ago, Russ and I quietly crept into Garrett's room as he slept. Peeking into his crib, we felt the relief we always feel when we see that he's breathing and sleeping peacefully. As Russ reached into the crib to gently touch Garrett's back, Garrett's head flung up and he stared into the dark room. Of course, by the time he looked in our direction we were crouched down and running, already half-way out of the room. When we got to the living room we couldn't stop laughing. "I bet that's where the idea of the bogey man comes from", Russ said. "We probably looked like scary monsters racing out of the room just now."

Okay, I wanted to write so much more but G-Man is up from his nap and crying.
More to come.

March 7th, 2008

2008-03-07T14:53:00.000-08:00

Oh my gosh! It's been a month since I've posted! I am completely paralyzed by how much I have to say about it all... Therefore I don't write.

Even now, I have no idea what to tell you.

I am fully, 100%, without a doubt in love with my son. Phew. Got that off my chest. I am also mostly clueless about what to do when and how to do what. There are all these THINGS you're just supposed to know! And, no surprise, I'm confused more than half of the time.

Now, I think I'm doing a lot right. He seems very happy and he's growing at a good pace. He's very alert and he seems to be hitting all the milestones. We got him through his first cold. He loves me and can't get enough of Russ. He's infatuated with Bogie and even seems interested in our cat, Misty. But there are many things that I feel stupid about. Let's use the word, "Naive" instead. "Naive" suits me.

I know several moms with kids the same age as Garrett, so I hear things that I might not know about otherwise. Like, if I hadn't asked someone when to start cutting out Garrett's middle-of-the-night feedings, I might have been waking up at midnight and three AM for the next several years. I'm also figuring out naps and solid foods and I even found a great carrier, thanks to a new dad I met at an audition. New parents (and probably old ones!) are more than willing to share any tidbit they have to help out a fellow parent. It's a pretty open and warm community, so far. I'm sure once school and PTA meetings are involved, I'll hate parents as much as I hate everyone else.

But back to my confusion. How am I supposed to know how much rice cereal and carrots to feed my kid? How do I know when to get a sitter and for how long I can leave? How do I know which car seat is the best or how to get him to suck on a teething ring? For that matter, how do I know if he's teething???

Of course I'm exaggerating. A lot of it is pretty obvious. But most of it isn't. I talk to the mothers of toddlers with great reverence, asking everything I can think of before they walk away. "How did you do this?" "How did you manage that?" "What do you do about this?" "How do you get that stain out?"

Anyway, blah blah blah. All I can tell you with absolute certainty is that I am loving this whole thing. Even though I feel like I can't get on top of the house work or put together a cute outfit, even though my errands are timed to fit in between feedings and naps, even though my back hurts from carrying around 18 pounds all day... I am enjoying my life more than I ever have.

I have so much more to say about how much fun it is to watch him eat peas or how much I love to make him laugh, or how he smiles so big when Russ gets home, it looks like he'll swallow his own head! I'd love to tell you about how I'm not over my first-time-mom nerves, and how I still make sure he's breathing when he sleeps. But it's too much and it's all swimming around in my head. So, I'll write again soon.

Now I've got to go marinate some pork loin. You heard me.

February 7th, 2008

2008-02-07T21:45:00.000-08:00

After feeding Garrett this morning at 4:00AM, I put him back in his crib and went to bed to look at him on the monitor. He spent the next several minutes rubbing the soft material on his bumpers, then he flipped onto his stomach. Once there, he could no longer reach the bumper he was touching so he reached out with his other arm to try to touch the other bumper. No luck. He reached up to grab one of the animals on his mobile. Much too far away. Then he reached to his side, found his blankie, and held onto that. The point is, I'm watching him way too much on his monitor. The other point is, he's reaching out for everything now.

When he woke again at 7:00AM, I brought him into bed with me. After melting my cold, 7:00-in-the-morning heart with a gigantic smile, he looked toward the curtains which were open a bit. Sunlight was coming through and you know what he did? Reached for it. He wanted to touch that brightness so badly, and I realized another job of mine as a mother. I have to support him in his quest to touch the sunlight... and everything else he wants to accomplish. And I believe this kid can accomplish anything.

Right now though, it's just a lot of reaching. And that is more than enough for me.

February 5th, 2008

2008-02-05T08:19:00.000-08:00

It's becoming harder and harder to sit down and do this. Garrett demands a whole lot of attention and the second he closes his eyes to nap, I get as much accomplished as possible.

I have to tell you that this experience is remarkable. I can not believe how happy I am taking care of this little person. Waking up at 7:00AM is something I never wanted to do, nor did I think I could ever do it happily. When I see the smiling face of my son, I'm ready to face the day... Very happily.

There's so much to write about, it's hard to know where to start. There are changes in Garrett every single day and they boggle my mind. He's mesmerized with himself when he looks in the mirror. I'm not sure if he knows he's looking at himself or he thinks there's another baby in the room, but he furrows his brow, reaches out, and stares at himself endlessly. He grabs his feet and puts them in his mouth. He's able to walk if you hold him around the waist. Three days ago he had a problem standing in his exersaucer and he'd get very frustrated, but yesterday, he was able to stand and play for 20 minutes and was incredibly excited.

I can not explain the way I feel about this child. I love him more than I thought was possible and I know that's only going to get stronger. The truth is, I don't know how to explain these feelings I have. I used to want to smack people who said, "You won't understand until you have kids", but they were right. I just can't describe it. It's been more than 12 hours since I began this entry and I was with Garrett almost all of those 12 hours, and yet I can't wait to see him in the morning. I feel like such a sap when I stare at him and tell him how much he means to me. I used to think my mom was being so dramatic when she'd look at me with that "Mom Look", and I just know I'm going to always look at Garrett that way.

Listen, I know he's not always going to be this perfect little angel. I'm sure there will be many days where I want to scream at him or lock him in his room... But I just can't get over that he's my son, and I'm his mom. I'm his MOM! What the hell happened?

Anyway, I'm babbling and this is probably my most ill-constructed blog entry of all time. But that's because my brain is made of mush and I'm exhausted and in love. I'm sort of embarrassed to post this, but I'm going to do it anyway so you can see the kind of person I've become.

Oh, by the way, I'm also dealing with a lot of shit that I didn't even consider. Like, do I want to start supplementing with formula or keep breast feeding only? Do I need to get a nanny? When do I start baby-proofing? When do I start researching pre-schools? And it's only just begun. This is my life now. I'm officially a mom before anything else. Or maybe I'm a dork first, and THEN a mom.

Okay, now I'm going to bed.

January 24th, 2008

2008-01-24T22:06:00.000-08:00

I feel like I'm coming down with something and I'm far too tired to do a whole post, but I wanted to let you (my several readers) know that I think about blogging every day and I feel terrible that it's been so long.

Quick update and I swear I'll write more later:
Garrett is officially rolling over and over and over.
He reaches for and grabs anything he can.
He puts everything in his mouth.
His smile takes up his whole head.
He is so magnificent I can barely stand it.

That should tide you over for another day or so.

December 31st, 2007

2007-12-31T11:20:00.000-08:00

And so here it is, the last day of the year. What a year it has been. Garrett is changing so much every day. He just started being able to grab things. He'll lie on his back on his play mat, with all these little animals hanging down, and he struggles and twitches and kicks and pounds the mat with his hands but he doesn't give up. And then, for one brief shining moment, he holds the leg of a stuffed giraffe in his hands, victorious!

He's also been going to bed brilliantly. We put him in his crib, he flails and sucks his hands and turns himself around 180 degrees. And then he falls asleep with one arm slung over his eyes. I hope he continues to be able to fall asleep like that, on his own, self-pacifying. I think it'll lead to a very independent future.

I'll leave you with this lesson my dog Bogie taught me yesterday:
I was giving him snacks and he would choke down each one, barely chewing, knowing that I had another one in my hand to give him. He didn't enjoy any of them... Just waited for the next one to be delivered. I realized that we all do that. We fail to enjoy the here and now because we're so busy thinking about or worrying about or excited about what's coming next.

My resolution for 2008 is to savor each "snack". I want to live inside every moment, and let myself be surprised by what's around the corner. We only have so many "here and nows". I plan on savoring each one.

May your New Year be filled with great joy. I look forward to sharing more with you throughout the year.

December 17th

2007-12-17T09:43:00.000-08:00

Right after I got married, I noticed any woman with a wedding ring and French-tipped nails. If I ever had the occasion to approach one I'd say, "Did you just get married?", and they would light up and squeal, "Yes!" Then we'd both go on with our day, knowing we had that in common and that we were probably the luckiest girls in the world.

Now I notice any woman with a slight gut, a haggard expression, dark circles, and a stroller. If we're not feeling too exhausted to speak, one of us will start: "How old is yours?" "Where did you give birth?" "Are you breastfeeding?" "Is she sleeping through the night yet?" "Can you believe how much they cry?" "Do you ever think about suicide?" Then we both go on with our day, knowing we have that in common and that we're absolutely the luckiest girls in the world.

Garrett and Russ are still sleeping. I should say Russ is still sleeping, and Garrett is once again sleeping after our nightly feedings and changings. They're down to two now for the most part! He goes to bed between 11:00 and 12:00, wakes up between 5:00 and 6:00, and again around 8:00. Then he sleeps about another hour or two. I swear I could watch him sleep for hours. It's the most peaceful, beautiful sleep. Russ calls it "the sleep of no financial worries". I usually try to snag some extra sleep with him, but this morning I was dying to get up and finish organizing my cook book cabinet in the kitchen.

I am not a very organized woman. I try to be, I really do. But I fail miserably over and over again. Now I'm looking around my house and picturing a crawling child and I shiver with anxiety. Garrett will soon be making his way all over this messy abode and I can't bear to think of the things he could pick up and put in his mouth, or put somewhere else never to be found again! So I have committed to myself that I will get this place in order over the next three months. By the time Garrett is crawling, I will always know where my keys are, I will have thrown away bags of things I haven't used in years, and I will have given a huge amount of mid-90's clothing to Goodwill. For some reason I started with my cook book cabinet. But it's a start.

Bogie's been a little depressed lately. I might be reading into it, but he seems depressed to me. It's impossible to give him the amount of attention he used to get, but we still give him a ton. He loves Garrett. He licks him all the time and wags his tail whenever he sees him. But there's an underscore of, "Things were different before you got here, kid." I feel bad. I think he'll adjust to it more and more the older Garrett gets. I think as soon as he gets some of the love back from the kid he's giving it to, all will be well. In the meantime, we go on a lot of family walks and I make sure to tell Bogie at least once a day that he's still the best dog in the whole world and I love him as much as I always did. Plus, Russ plays with him a ton. I'm reading into it, right? It's just like a woman to mistake her dog's normal expression for a deep emotion. He's fine!

Garrett is stirring. I'm gonna go get him and "accidentally" wake up Russ. This will be fun.

December 11th

2007-12-11T13:50:00.000-08:00

I am 133.8 pounds. That's only 3.8 pounds more than my pre-pregnancy weight. Yay, me! Butt, (yes, I meant to spell it that way), I took a good look at my ass profile yesterday and was not pleased. My butt used to be perky. It used to be round. It was pretty darn cute. Now it's flat and sad and pathetic. So, although my weight is worthy of celebration, my ass is in desperate need of some lunges and squats. And my stomach is in dire need of crunches. There you have it. I'll keep you abreast of my physique's progress. Speaking of breasts... They're the only thing looking really good and that's just because they're filled with milk! Yes, I'll be breast feeding until Garrett is 20.

So, my sister-in-law gave me a book by Anne Lamott called "Operating Instructions: A Journal of my Son's First Year". I've been reading it for a few days and it is INSANELY similar to my blog. Since it was written in 1989, I now feel like a cheap imitation. Miss Lamott is a wonderful writer and I've already cried several times because of her lovely way of describing things. She and I are very similar. At the time she wrote the book, she was 35 years old with a newborn. She's a single mom, a recovering addict, very religious with a deep love for Christ, and she lives in a tiny apartment in Northern California. Fine. So the only things we have in common are age and motherhood. But, that's enough. The way she describes the love and awe she has for her son makes me feel like we are the same.

I know how stupid this is going to sound, but it makes perfect sense in my head. There is something very reassuring about this book. She describes several things about her son Sam that are exactly what Garrett does. Yesterday she was talking about this cough he has that she calls his "fake cough". Whenever Garrett coughs I say, "You're faking!", because it seriously sounds like he's putting it on for attention. She describes things he does while breast feeding that are exactly the same. What I'm getting at is this, and please bear with me. It's comforting to think that with all the changes in the world, with all the craziness and technology, with all the anger and terrorism, with all the sickness and sadness... It's comforting to know that kids were the same in 1989 as they are in 2007. The template hasn't changed. That makes me feel good for some reason.

She also describes all of her fears and thoughts in such a way that makes me glad to know that my fears and trepidations are probably felt by mothers everywhere, and always have been.

Garrett is three months old today and he is truly magnificent. He smiles so much and each time I feel like he hands me a treasure chest filled with diamonds. I still stare at him in complete amazement, unable to figure out how he got here. Russ and I both feel so lucky to have him as a son.

He's big. Bigger than 90% of kids his age. That makes sense considering Russ is incredibly tall, and so are all the men in my family. His little hands look like they're going to be giant, as do the rest of his appendages. Every time we bathe him he acts like he's getting a spa treatment. When we change his diaper he looks at us with an incredibly amused expression, like he's in on a joke that he won't tell us. And he talks a lot! Seriously! He's constantly cooing and saying things like, "Ah Goo!" We have entire conversations and they're fascinating.. To us. I know he's going to be sitting up soon, and then crawling and moving too fast for me to catch up with. That's why I'm trying to live inside of every moment with him. And every moment, no matter what is happening, good or bad, is perfect.

It's also my mom's 67th birthday today. She and my dad are living in a condo at the hospital where my father had his treatment. That way he can be close to the doctors he needs to see several times a week. She's working hard to take care of him, and I hope she's enjoying her birthday.

November 30th

2007-11-30T13:41:00.001-08:00

It's 1:45PM and my son is sleeping so peacefully and beautifully in the middle of our bed. He sleeps with his arms above his head, almost like he's being mugged by the Sandman. Magic.

I thought I'd take a few minutes to write down some stuff he does; both for your amusement and so I don't forget all these little nuances.

Breast feeding has been amazing. I am lucky. A lot of women have problems or pains or both. I have been fortunate that I can feed Garrett easily most of the time. It's a joy. It is during his feedings where most of his quirks come out. He almost always has a hand on the back of his head when he's eating. He's practically twirling his hair, elbow bent, enjoying his food. Often, his other hand is balled up in a fist and his cheek is resting on it. Imagine "The Thinker" lying on his back, fist to cheek instead of chin. Other times his hand is on his brow, as if he's shielding his eyes from the bright, bright sun or contemplating life's great mysteries. Then there's the straight forward "Give me my lunch!" with a hand on each side of my boob like he's holding a giant conch shell and yelling, "I have the conch! It's my turn to speak!" And he makes these beautiful sounds. "Eh, eh, eh", or "Mmmm", or "Ah, ah, ah". They're like lullabies.

Sometimes Garrett falls asleep while he's eating and my breast becomes his pillow. I try to take snapshots of him in my mind because I never want to forget what it feels like, having him cuddling up so close to me like that. I usually have to pick him up and move him so I can get some stuff done around the house. As soon as I start to rise, he throws his arms out to the side and lets out a little gasp, as if he's falling from a building. It rarely wakes him up, but it's funny every time. He does the same thing as I'm lowering him into his crib or pack & play.

Every morning between 4:00 and 5:30AM, Garrett wakes up to eat. I am inevitably exhausted, trying to keep my eyes from closing so I can avoid tripping as I walk him into the nursery. After I feed him, I lay him down on the changing table and he begins his pooping ritual. I call it a ritual because it takes anywhere from five to fifteen minutes and a lot of grunting and concentrating, and he does it pretty much the same way every day. I have to stand at the changing table the entire time, because if he ever rolled off I'd shoot myself. As I stand there, wobbly, trying to stay awake, I ask him, "Do you have more poops?" And he smiles so big it's blinding. "Do you have more, you little bugger?", I ask again, and he laughs. He is so amazingly joyful in the wee hours, I think it's the Universe's way of making me love mornings.

Well, that's enough of Garrett Watch for now. It's 3:55 and I've fed him twice and changed him thrice since beginning this entry. He's now sleeping on Russ' chest. Adorable.

November 28th

2007-11-28T12:42:00.000-08:00

The first lesson you learn as a parent is that things usually do not go as planned. I gleaned this particular nugget as I was being wheeled in for my C-Section after nine months of researching natural childbirth.

Well, we had planned for a magnificent Thanksgiving here at the Arch Abode. We had planned on turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and all the fixin's. We had planned on spending the day with my mom and dad. Things did not go as planned.

Instead, I received a call at five in the morning from my mom telling me to hurry up and get to the hospital. My dad caught an infection and was in ICU.

I used to turn the ringer off on our bedroom phone before bed. I figured any emergency would still be an emergency in the morning, but I'd be more equipped to deal with it if I got some sleep. When my dad went into the hospital a couple months ago, I started leaving the ringer on. I wanted to be available no matter what. I prayed I would never hear that phone ring, and the first thing I did every morning was silently thank God that it hadn't.

This was the call I never wanted to get, and it came at the most unexpected of times. My dad had just come home after a harrowing two months in the hospital. He had just gotten the news that his transplant was taking the exact right course. He couldn't wait for Thanksgiving, and for things to start getting back to normal.

Without revealing too much of my family's personal stuff, suffice it to say Thanksgiving, my birthday, and the rest of the weekend were spent by my dad's side at the hospital. It all felt like walking through a nightmare, and it feels now like we're slowly waking up, groggily, and we're not quite sure how our brain allowed the nightmare to seem so real.

My dad is getting a little better every day. My friend Zeke said that I shouldn't have blogged about how great Thanksgiving was going to be. No good Jew assumes things are going to go well without being punished for it. At the very least you're supposed to say, "Keynahore" in order to ward off the evil eye. Or, "Poo poo" to evoke the same effect. Well, I can't wait for my dad to fight this fucking infection and get back on his feet. When he gets out of the hospital, he still has a long fight to get back to normal. It will probably be about a year. But Russ said as soon as my dad is healthy again, we're going to have the greatest Thanksgiving of all time. Poo poo. Keynahore.

November 21st

2007-11-21T15:52:00.001-08:00

"I forgot the poop! I forgot the poop!"

This is the sentence I uttered as Russ, Garrett and I were leaving for the pediatrician the other day. I had a stool sample in a diaper in a plastic bag in the fridge and as Russ was shutting the door and setting the alarm, I realized I had forgotten it. The poop. And that is what I said. Just take that in.

We've been having a blast with the Littlest Arch. Although, when he went to the doc's the other day he had his first vaccinations which resulted in a terrible night for all of us. Mostly for Garrett. He seemed so happy all day after the shots. And then night fell, and Garrett turned into a screaming, crying, inconsolable mess. It was awful. He's O.K. now though, folks! And he's back to his beautiful, happy, very consolable self.

I realize I laugh a lot now. I mean, I've always laughed a lot, especially since marrying Russ, who makes me laugh harder than anyone else has ever made me laugh. But now I laugh at the littlest things. Any remotely adorable movement that our son makes makes me laugh with extreme glee or let out a happy scream.

I also cry a lot now, too. Sometimes I cry because I'm in such disbelief when I'm feeding and looking down at him. Sometimes I cry because I'm worried, or because I want so many things for him and I don't know how I'll give them to him. Stupid stuff. I can't help it. I love the little guy. Sue me.

In other news, my daddy came home Monday night from a nearly eight-week stint at City of Hope hospital. I mentioned a while ago that my dad had Mylofibrosis, a blood disease that kind of resembles Leukemia. I haven't wanted to write about it for several reasons. One, it's my dad's journey and I haven't felt like it was my story to tell. Two, I was pregnant the entire time my dad was getting sicker, going to many doctor's appointments, and getting many transfusions. I was dealing with so much, I felt sort of overwhelmed. And I wasn't comfortable writing down all the emotional stuff I was going through. Suffice it to say, the pregnancy marked a time of many fears and many joys all rolled into one. And Garrett's birth brought much needed happiness and hope to everyone in my family.

Well, my dad got a bone marrow transplant on October 10th, after being in the hospital for a while for tests and transfusions. The bone marrow was donated by a complete stranger who we are not allowed to know about until October 10th, 2008. I an amazed by this stranger's unbelievable generosity. My dad said from the beginning that his goal was to be out of the hospital in time to come to my house for Thanksgiving. It was a lofty, seemingly impossible goal. My dad was pretty damn sick going into the hospital and the doctors estimated a stay of at least 10 weeks.

My dad's attitude through this illness has been amazing. For almost a year he has been in all kinds of pain. He has lost his appetite and astounding amounts of weight. At times he was so nauseated that he and I would joke that BOTH of us were pregnant. Sleeping has been hard, and sometimes being awake has been harder. Through it all, my dad remained positive and celebrated every minute of feeling remotely normal.

Well, he'll be here for Thanksgiving tomorrow along with my mom who has tirelessly taken care of him for a year. He got tests result back today which revealed that all of his white cells are 100% host. That means the bone marrow transplant seems to have replaced all of his sick cells with brand new, healthy ones. It's the first jump in a long line of hurdles. He has to travel to the City of Hope twice a week for the next six months at least. He has to fight off possible infections, and his bone marrow has to reinvent itself. He can't travel far from his home for at least fifty days, and my amazing mom will be by his side for all of it. (Except when she needs a damn break and my brother or I step in!)

I believe my dad will conquer this. So does he. And we will all work together to make sure of it. He needs to be around to see Garrett grow up. My birthday is Friday and I'm getting the only gift I wanted. My parents will be at our table for Thanksgiving, and I have a beautiful baby who will be at his first holiday dinner. I am more thankful than I can even describe.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

November 15th

2007-11-15T10:02:00.000-08:00

I am going to attempt to blog. Why haven't I done so since September 30th? Well, it's been a tad busy around here. As a matter of fact, I hear the little guy stirring right now so I'll probably have to come back to this later. The other reason I haven't blogged is it seems like too great a task. I mean, what do I say? What can I tell you about the last eight weeks of our lives? There's too much and so little all at the same time.

Damn, he's not getting up yet. I can still sit here. O.K.

For the past eight weeks I have done little else but feed Garrett, clothe Garrett, bathe Garrett, change Garrett's diapers, wash Garrett's blankies, burpies, sheets, and clothes, talk to Garrett, stare at Garrett and call Russ over when Garrett is doing something adorable. Russ has had the exact same schedule, minus the laundry.

Sure, we've worked in going out to eat, shopping at Target and Trader Joes, and even visiting my dad in the hospital. But otherwise it's been a day-in, day-out Garrett Fest.

We still can't believe he's our son and we're his parents. It doesn't seem real. And truthfully, I don't know how to put down in words what I feel about all of it. I think I'll be able to sometime in the future, but not now. I just love the little guy so much. I have so many hopes for his future and such a desire to stop time where it stands. I have an acute sense of how precious time is and an extreme awareness of moments.

One last thing before I pick him up. So many women told me, "You don't even know what love is yet. I know you love your husband, but you'll love a child so much more." I've got to be honest. I love this kid so much I feel like my heart will explode. I loved Russ beyond words before Garrett got here... And I love him even more now. I see him with our son and all of the qualities that I've always loved seem etched even deeper into who he is. He is already a brilliant father and has not lost a step as a husband. So, sorry ladies! Your little vex didn't work! Ha ha!!

There you go. I blogged. And Garrett didn't stop me! I'll try to check in more often. I'm just wary of starting every entry with, "You won't believe what Garrett just did!"

Here's a recent pic:

Garrett

2007-09-30T09:37:00.000-07:00

Garrett Mitchell was born at 12:38 PM on Tuesday September 18th, 2007.
He weighed 8.27 Ounces and was 20 and 3/4 inches long.
Our lives are forever changed.

I have never felt such a roller coaster of emotions, nor have I ever been more exhausted. I think I can say the same for Russ.

All the fears I posted in my pregnancy blog have been replaced by new ones. I no longer fear my life changing, or being thought of only as "Mom". Garrett fits in perfectly and we can't imagine life without him. It really does happen like that. My fears now are of being a good enough mom, of being able to protect my son, of ever being able to sleep deeply again... I now always have one ear listening to Garrett.

But, fears seem like a waste of time now. It's much better to spend that time watching Russ burp Garrett, or getting some extra sleep, or washing little socks and hats. I hope this time doesn't go by too fast. It's all so simple and perfect.

My heart has grown. My family has grown. Life is pretty amazing.

40 Weeks!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-09-16T19:04:00.000-07:00

I didn't mean to go seven days without blogging. But it probably gave you a sense that you were waiting for something. Just waiting and waiting and waiting.

WELL, SCREW YOU! I'M WAITING TO POP A KID OUT AND HE'S TAKING HIS SWEET DAMN TIME!

My mother-in-law came to town on Tuesday, which was my official due date according to my ob/gyn. So, I'm about five days late now. Yesterday contractions started coming pretty regularly. For a time, they were coming every three to five minutes! For a time. Then they started spreading out again. Every nine minutes. Every eleven. Every twenty. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! We spent the whole day on "contraction watch", writing down every single freaking one.

I'm not supposed to even call the doctor until I have them every five minutes for an hour!! Well, that's okay I guess. We're getting closer, at least. It's just so damn weird waiting for your entire life to change, and timing it with a tacky white stop watch you bought at Target for $9.99.

Today I told Mom and Russ that we had to get out of the house because I couldn't have another day like that. I took the car to get it washed in the morning, then we all went to Babies "R" Us to return a bunch of stuff and buy a bunch of stuff, then Mom treated us to a great lunch at Cheesecake Factory. It was 4:00 when we were done and my back wasn't able to take any more walking or standing.

Tomorrow I go to the ob to see where we stand. Or squat. I was 168 pounds this morning. I have a feeling I won't be writing again until I'm officially a Mommy. Thank you for reading my pregnancy blog. I can't tell you what it has meant to me to be able to put all of these feelings out into the uterus. I mean the universe. The fact that anyone has been reading it is just an extra, very surreal bonus.

I promise I will do my darndest to keep a Mommy Blog going. Even if they're short entries. We're embarking on something big here. We're ready!

39 Weeks, Sunday

2007-09-09T21:33:00.001-07:00

165.6 today! I guess Sesame was retaining water the other morning.

Ten years ago today, Russ and I had dinner at T.G.I. Friday's, saw "Copland", and kissed for the first time. We had been spending a lot of time together before that night, but it was the kiss that signified the beginning of our relationship. Ten years ago today, my life got a whole lot better.

Everyone says the love you feel for a child is unlike any love you've ever felt before. I believe that. But I don't believe it will take away one ounce of what I feel for my husband. I didn't think I could love him any more than I did, but I have somehow fallen deeper in love with him during my pregnancy. I know seeing him with our son will increase it even more. I also had a brilliant example in parenting and teamwork from my parents. They always made it very clear that they loved each other deeply and that we were fitting into their lives, as opposed to them revolving their lives around their kids. I think that gave me a great sense of safety and security because I knew they were working as a team to raise us. I hope Russ and I can accomplish the same thing.

A couple of nights ago, we lay in bed holding each other for a few minutes. Without any warning, I started to cry. I was overwhelmed with the feeling that everything we knew, and everything we were over the last ten years was about to change. I can't wait for the changes because I know they will be wonderful, but a part of me mourns the Russ and Lisa we've been up until now. I think that's normal and good. I think I need to feel these things.

I was really hoping I would go into labor today so we could tell our son he was born exactly ten years after his Daddy and I became an item. But it was not to be. It's a good thing, too. We would have had to name him after Sly Stallone's character in "Copland"... And Sheriff Freddy Arch doesn't sound too good.

Tomorrow we'll find out how Sesame's doing with a non-stress test. I can't wait. No matter what, I'm going to be a MOM in nine days!!!!!! Holy crap.

39 Weeks

2007-09-07T15:04:00.000-07:00

168 this morning. AT HOME! Huh?

Bags? Packed.
Mother-in-Law? Coming soon.
Nursery? Ready to go.
Last trip to the bank? Accomplished.

Now all that's left to do is wait. WAITING SUCKS! I did a couple of errands yesterday and today and tried to walk as much as possible. I feel like sitting around makes Sesame lazy, and we do NOT want Sesame to be lazy. We want him to want to come OUT!

Last night I had to go to traffic court to fight a speeding ticket I got in May. Russ came with me and we got there at 6:00 PM, our scheduled time, only to see about 50 other people waiting in line in front of us. Apparently, you get an appointment time that is the same as EVERYONE ELSE'S APPOINTMENT TIME!

So, all of us chumps are waiting in this long line and a bailiff comes out at around 6:15 to tell us the staff hasn't arrived yet. Awesome. This is just what I want to be doing for the next three hours. Hanging out at the courthouse waiting to plead my case. I've never fought a traffic ticket before, but I know I'm in the right on this one. The officer said I was going 20 miles over the speed limit and I know for a FACT I was not. He obviously clocked someone else and made me the fall guy. I had facts and a hand-drawn map to back me up. Russ drew the map. Duh.

Anyway, at around 6:30 they called us all in to the courtroom and told us to sit down. Then they called our names one by one and had us sit in the center of the courtroom in groups of six. There were so many hard to pronounce names, that when it got to someone named Elizabeth Smith, the bailiff actually thanked her for having an easy name. "Thanks, Liz. That was easy".

When I got up they asked how pregnant I was. I said, "Nine months". They said, "Come up front so we can get you out of here. It's been three years since my EMT training and I don't want to have to use it." That's one of the perks of being pregnant, I guess.

Then we had to listen to a tape of our rights that answered absolutely no questions about what was about to happen. It basically told us that if we had committed a crime or a misdemeanor we had the right to an attorney and all that. But we were all there for traffic tickets! I almost scratched my name in one of the pews in the courthouse so I could be arrested for damaging federal property. I wasn't getting the five minutes back that it took to listen to the tape, so I at least wanted to put it to use. Are there pews in courthouses? Or are they just benches unless it's a church?

Then they told us that an attorney was giving his free time to hear our cases and that he wasn't getting paid so they could save taxpayer money. We all stood and solemnly applauded as he walked in. Just kidding. The "attorney" that entered the courtroom literally looked like a fat, gray-haired, homeless guy who they just pulled off the street. Sort of Stephen King in a judge's robe. He called me up and asked me how I plead. Pleaded? Plead. "Not guilty", says I, readying my paperwork and clearing my throat to argue my case. "Pay your bail at the clerk's window. Thank you", says Homeless Stephen King.

Is that it? Did my cop not show up? Am I done? NICE! Then I walk into the clerk's office only to discover that, not only am I NOT done, but this was just a bullshit way for them to get me there to schedule my ACTUAL COURT DATE!! WHAT??? So, I had to pay the full amount of the ticket and schedule another time to be there. I chose the written argument option instead, so I'll be sending a bunch of pages with maps and things to argue my case. If I win, I'll get my $273 back. If not, I'll then have the option to schedule a court date and argue in person.

RIDICULOUS!!

Russ, Sesame, and I wasted 90 minutes of our lives at that courthouse last night. I was so pissed.

I just wasted about six to ten minutes of your time, depending on how fast of a reader you are. That makes me feel better.

38 Weeks, Wednesday

2007-09-05T22:44:00.000-07:00

Still 165.6 this morning and 168 at the doctor's.

During my last couple of appointments my OB/GYN asked if I wanted to be induced or if I'd rather wait for it to happen. Both times I've said I'd rather wait. Both times he seemed a tad surprised and maybe even a tad impressed. I might just be reading into it, though. So, the news as of today is that I have two appointments next week for a non-stress test. My actual due date (according to the doctor) is Tuesday, Sept. 11th (Don't worry... Good things need to happen on that date too!) so I'm going in on Monday and Thursday.

The basic point of a non-stress test is to make sure the baby is reactive. They hook you up to a couple of monitors, one to measure the baby's heart rate and one to measure contractions. The baby's heart rate is supposed to go up when he moves, so they just want to make sure that's happening. His heart rate should also go up with any contractions. I guess as you get close to and past your due date, there is a risk of your placenta not getting as much oxygen to the fetus, or your amniotic fluid getting low. So basically he just wants to make sure the baby is fine to stay in there a while longer.

However! Yes, there is a however. However, if I carry all the way to September 18th which is one week past my due date, I shall be induced. I truly hope he comes out on his own MUCH earlier than the 18th. Induction sounds weird and scary to me because it seems like they sort of force your body to do something it's not ready for. Anyway, I'm hopeful he'll come out on his own terms.

Otherwise, I am a whole new kind of exhausted. I went out to eat after my appointment, and was planning to get a few things at Target right after. I need to round out my hospital bag and get some things we'll need when we get home from the hospital as well. So, I came home just to lie down for a minute before I went shopping and ended up sleeping two hours and not leaving the house again. I swear it's like zombies have eaten my brain and left me with a giant gut and over-active sweat glands. I did get a second wind tonight so I managed to get some laundry done. The house is a mess, so I'm trying to be in control of at least SOME household chores.

Also, typing has become much more difficult! I'm usually a very fast typist and make very few mistakes. These entries are now taking me twice as long to do because I'M A ZOMBIE! WEREN'T YOU PAYING ATTENTION?

Lastly, waves of excitement, panic, terror, joy, panic, fear, extreme happiness, panic, and excitement keep crashing over me. I am overcome with emotions. Wow. That's the word that keeps popping into my head. Wow.

37 Weeks, Thursday

2007-08-30T21:11:00.000-07:00

165.6 this morning at home. 168 at the doctor.

You know the feeling of being so tired that it feels like you're walking through a haze? Where you have a dull headache that won't go away, your throat is dry, your eyes can only open half way, and everything you do seems like you're doing it in quicksand?

That's how I feel right now. I remember feeling this way the one time I stayed up all night cramming for a test in college. I believe they're called "exams", but I didn't really stay long enough to cram for more than one. Anyway, I stayed up all night studying and I remember feeling this way around 6:00 in the morning when it was too late to take a nap and too early to go to class.

Last night I fell asleep around midnight. I woke up at 1:00 AM to pee. I woke up at 2:45 AM to pee. I woke up at 4:15 AM to write a novel. But I ended up just peeing. Then I couldn't get back to sleep. My abdomen was killing me, my chest was constricted, and my nose was so stuffed I literally could not sniff. Plus Russ was giving off a ton of heat and his relaxed breathing, which indicated that he was sleeping comfortably, was too much for me to take. Then Sesame started moving in a way he hasn't moved before. It was AGGRESSIVE! He was bouncing off the walls of my uterus with such stamina that I felt it necessary to wake Russ from his beautiful slumber just so he could feel it.

I had to get up. There was no going back to sleep. I grabbed my pillows, my water, and my crossword book and headed out to the living room. I watched an "Oprah" I had TiVo'd, made myself a waffle and some tea, watched a Style Network show, and finally fell asleep on the couch with Bogie at my feet, at around 6:30. At 8:45 Russ came out to tell me my alarm had gone off. I had set it for some strange reason to make sure I was ready to go to the OB/GYN by 10:45. I NEVER need to set an alarm anymore, but I guess I had a premonition last night.

Bottom line... I'm tired. I miss sleeping through the night. I'm almost afraid to go to sleep tonight because I don't want it to happen again. But I'm going to go wash my face, brush and floss my teeth, and give it a shot. Because that's what we Arches do! We look fear in the face and say, "Up yours, Fear! I'm sleeping whether you want me to or not! I'm no quitter! I'm a sleeper!" That's what we say.

We met The Blonds' baby girl today and heard all of their birthing stories. It was awesome. It's especially good to hear how rough it was, but then see them with their beautiful little girl, laughing at the trials and triumphs of only a few days ago. I know no matter how bad it gets in that hospital room, it'll all be okay shortly thereafter. I am so excited!!!!!!!!

I hope this all made sense and that I'm actually typing this on my computer. For all I know, I'm sitting in the dining room right now, "typing" on a box that arrived this afternoon from Amazon with my BPA-free bottles. That would suck.

37 Weeks, Monday

2007-08-27T22:46:00.000-07:00

Still having problems loading photos, damn it!

The last couple of nights I've been dreaming about him. I always forget what he looks like by the time I wake up, but I spend a lot of time with him while I'm asleep.

The other night I kept dreaming about breast feeding. I was struggling a bit, but doing a pretty good job. Then all of a sudden, he turned into my cat, Misty!! It was a bit harder to breast feed her because she kept gnawing on me with her little fangs. Luckily, she turned back into Sesame and all was right with the world.

Then I dreamed that I was taking him on a drive and I put him in his car seat. But he crawled up into the front seat and seat-belted himself in! I said, "Hey! You've gotta stay in your car seat facing backwards in the back seat!" Then I pulled over on the shoulder of the freeway and could NOT get him back in the seat the right way. It was very frustrating.

Apparently these are the kind of anxiety dreams that women experience in their third trimester. Luckily, mine are more humorous than anxiety-ridden. And I really dig seeing this dream baby, whoever he is. I'm pretty sure I even say his name in the dreams. I wish I could hear what it is... It might help us make a decision!

In other news, our friends The Blonds from birthing class had their baby girl Friday morning! I'm going to try to go see her this week if they aren't too bombarded with people. It's so exciting! I can't wait to hear how it all went.

Lastly, Deena came over tonight and completely organized the nursery. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!
I almost feel like we're READY for him now!! It's so spectacular! Now all I have to do is pack my hospital bag, and I think I'm done. Man, I'm lucky to have the kind of friends I have. And that is the world's biggest understatement.

37 Weeks

2007-08-24T11:24:00.000-07:00

Holy Crap!! I've got three weeks to go! (Please... let him come early or on time).
167 pounds. 167!! I've gained close to three pounds in the last week. I'm assuming it's because this kid is done cooking and can come out at any time. So essentially I'm feeding two whole people every time I eat. I'm starving all the time!! (It's fun).

So, my best friend Deena threw me a shower a couple weeks ago. Originally we were going to have a big, co-ed party but we decided to keep it small and girls-only. She kept every aspect of it a secret from me so I was completely surprised when I saw what she did.

Several years ago, we both read a book called "The Red Tent". It's a fictionalized account of the women of the Old Testament. It has a lot to do with sisterhood, birthing babies, and just the general power that women possess. It changed a lot about the way I think of women. It really blew me away.

Well, Deena threw a "Red Tent Shower". It was unbelievable. She actually built a freaking RED TENT in her backyard! She also hired henna artists to decorate all the guests... I had my very own artist for my belly. There's no way I can describe the emotions I felt when I saw her backyard, or the way I felt to have my closest girl friends around me to celebrate the coming baby. So I'm just going to show you a bunch of pictures. I don't know who would want to actually have their picture shown, so I'm only including ones that have me and Deena in them. Hope this does the party justice!

Okay... So I've been trying to upload photos and it won't let me because Blogger is having issues. As soon as I'm able, I will give you a bunch of pictures.

This now gives me space to complain:
MY FREAKING BACK HURTS!
MY RIBS FEEL LIKE THEY'RE CRACKING UNDER THE PRESSURE OF AN ARM OR A LEG!
I CAN'T STAND OR SIT FOR MORE THAN THIRTY MINUTES!
SLEEPING HAS BECOME A DISTANT MEMORY!

Ahhh. That felt good.

36 Weeks

2007-08-17T08:37:00.000-07:00

162.6 pounds this morning.

We had our last Birthing Class last week where we learned the wonders of "What Happens After the Baby is Born"! Our instructor/midwife let us in on all the gritty details of what to expect once we get home.

And, it wasn't just about lack of sleep, or figuring out how to handle the baby. No. It was about learning to deal with the kind of monster a woman apparently turns into after pushing a human being out of her hoo-ha.

Here are the things I will be looking out for:
Excessive bleeding for several weeks,
Possible hemorrhoids (I'll take ANYTHING else!),
Not being able to wipe after urination, and instead using a hospital-dispensed bottle which I will fill with water to cleanse myself,
The appearance of being 6 months pregnant even though I've already given birth,
Tender breasts and nipples,
Possible post-partum which makes you depressed and irrational...

It was at this point that Russ leaned over to me and whispered, "Don't forget about the limp", to which I added, "And the eye patch!" Our friends, The Blonds over-heard us and laughed like crazy. I then got very nauseous and we had to pack it in early.

About four weeks to go, and Sesame seems like he really wants to get out of there. He is punching and stretching and pushing against some parts of my back and stomach that are HURTING LIKE CRAZY!! It's also really hard to breathe at night. Not to mention I'm having a ton of contractions again. But he hasn't dropped yet and, after checking my cervix, my doctor says I'm no where near delivering.

Russ and I are dying to hold him. Who is this kid? I am so ready to find out.

35 Weeks

2007-08-10T13:43:00.000-07:00

I just had a very surreal experience. I did voice over for a "Reel Comedy" that's going to air on Comedy Central at the end of this month. I got to watch most of the episode that I shot over a year ago. There I was, the old me. I was just "Lisa". I was thin (I recognize that now!!), and I was interviewing the stars of the movie "Balls of Fury". It's a really funny episode. There I was doing the creative thing I love to do most: Being myself in front of a camera.

We are all defined as different things at different points in our lives, even if we're not aware of it. We're toddlers, teens, high-school graduates, painters, accountants, we're "artistic", or "good with numbers". I was usually defined as "mature", or "a really good writer for my age", or "a procrastinator". I've even been "a great waitress", "an early developer", and "the honest one".

For the last 35 weeks, I've been "pregnant". That's it. I'm "the pregnant one". It's fun being "the pregnant one" because people give you a lot of advice, they ask you a lot of questions, they touch your belly, they get you a chair, they get you a lemonade. People are immensely helpful and excited for you. You get all this amazing energy from everyone and it makes the pregnancy an even more beautiful thing. But it does define you. It can't help but define you because it's characterized by a giant bump that precedes you everywhere.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how I'm going to be perceived once I'm "Mom". There's no getting around it. I can lose all the weight, I can continue to work (Please God), I can find time to sleep and put on makeup... But I will be "Mom" no matter what. Even if I'm feeling super young and cute, I'll be pushing a stroller in front of me. That's unmistakable.

I'm nervous about this perception. I'm probably most nervous of how I'll perceive myself. Will I still be Lisa? Will I still be me? Will I remember the things I love to do? Will I still write? Will I still care about how I look? Will I still be good at paying the bills, doing errands... Will I still want to cook? Will I still love to bake? Will I still be funny? Or will I just be "Mom"?

I have to say, it worries me. Believe me, I am so excited about this new role. Yes, it has finally reached that point. I am looking forward to Sesame being out of the womb and into my arms. So is Russ. We are ready. But I'm not ready to give up me. I desperately want to be able to stay who I am and still be a great mom. I hope it's possible.

I've already promised Russ I would work hard to be the wife I want to be, and have been for the past seven years. And you know what? Being "Wife" never cramped my style. As a matter of fact, it made me feel more like myself than I had ever felt... I was the Lisa I always wanted to be. Maybe being "Mom" will do the same thing for me. Maybe I'll be the best "Lisa" yet.

161.4 pounds this morning and pretty nauseous. Five weeks until I'm "Mom". I can do this.

33 Weeks, Thursday

2007-08-02T22:40:00.000-07:00

I'm going to make this fast because I'm exhausted because I haven't slept more than three hours in a row in two weeks! THAT was a run-on sentence but I don't care because I'm super tired and I can barely see straight and my back hurts.

Yesterday I went to the OB/GYN for a checkup. Thank god, everything's looking good. Every time you go to the doctor, you pee in a cup so they can check your urine for protein levels. I've peed in many a cup, and usually they are of a substantial enough size to facilitate what needs to be done.

For some reason, THESE cups are about half the size of regular specimen cups. So every time I have to pee in one, it presents quite a challenge. I always end up peeing on my hand. Always. THIS time, I was determined not to do that. Determination doesn't always lead to success. I peed on my hand again.

Then I have to reach over to the paper towels, clean my hand, clean the cup, and finish my business. I wash my hands THOROUGHLY... TWICE. And continue with my appointment. When I become an OB/GYN I'm going to make those cups big. Nay, I shall make them HUGE!

I'm 158.4 pounds. I'll blog again sometime this weekend.

33 Weeks

2007-07-28T04:51:00.000-07:00

I've never seen the movie "Alien", but I'm pretty sure I know what it feels like to have one come bursting out of your stomach. I was awakened at 4:30 AM by Sesame trying to rearrange my ribs, and possibly my liver. He's never kicked so hard! It was painful, but also exhilarating. I love feeling him move around. He's running out of space in there, so the movements are much more deliberate now.

I made some date nut bread before I went to sleep and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I had to get up and have some. With some cream cheese. I'm still sort of hungry. Should I eat more? It's so foreign to me; waking up in the middle of the night and shoveling food in my face but what Sesame wants, Sesame gets. And now Sesame might have a little bowl of cereal.

Last week in birthing class, the women had to hold a large handful of ice for a little over a minute while our coaches rubbed our backs and did anything they could to distract us from the pain. It was supposed to simulate a contraction and I thought it was a really useful exercise. When I held the ice the first time, Russ was doing a great job massaging me and whispering encouragements but I was unable to stop the tremors in my right leg. Ice freaking hurts! The second time, (we switched hands to avoid frost bite), it was like I had been holding ice my whole life and Russ had always coached me through it. I think we're going to make a hell of a team. Especially if the sport is ice-holding.

This week we learned all about the medications they offer you or push on you in the delivery room. We saw two videos: one of a natural childbirth sans any medications, and one of a woman who received pitocin and an epidural. These lamaze coaches are definitely biased toward natural childbirth, so the natural video was much more appealing than the woman who was all hopped up. It made me want to wait as long as possible before I get an epidural. We'll see how I feel once I'm there, though. I might want THREE epidurals before I hit five centimeters.

Russ keeps looking at me, wondering how I'm "going to do this thing". He's either in awe or completely terrified of the fact that I'm going to make our child come out of my hoo-ha. I keep telling him that I'm pretty sure women have been doing this since the dawn of time and that it's going to be a piece of cake. Even if it's the worst pain I've ever felt in my life, (which I'm pretty sure it will be), I will get through it because all of that pain will result in our baby boy. The truth is, I have no choice but to make it the best possible experience. Sesame is coming out one way or another, so to be afraid of the delivery is a complete waste of time. That's why I spend all my time being afraid of being a parent!

It's a lot like marriage. Way too many people spend all their time focusing on what their wedding is going to be like, and very little time working on their relationship. I guess I'm a "bigger picture" kind of gal. I won't expect the delivery to be perfect, but I'll do my damndest to be the best parent I can be. But don't worry! I will also do my best to have a great time in the hospital. Obviously, I'd like it be an experience that Russ and I will always have fond memories of.

Wow! It's 5:16. I better have that cereal and get back to bed.

31 Weeks, Thursday

2007-07-19T07:35:00.000-07:00

6:00 AM. Not a time I'm too familiar with unless I'm working and three alarm clocks have gone off. It seems sleep is becoming less and less familiar to my changing body. I'm exhausted by 10:00, in bed by 11:00, and waking up earlier every day. For a while my eyes were popping open at 8:00, then 7:30 the last few days. Today? 6:00.

I could probably fall back to sleep but I inevitably have to pee for the fourth time, plus I have a back ache, sciatic pain, and what feels like a cramp starting in my right leg. Not to mention, I'm STARVING! So, I get up with the hopes that I'll pee, eat, then go back to bed. It's now 7:39. I might give it a shot, but I'm probably up for the day. It's not all bad... I've already done a load of laundry!

Tonight is our second birthing class. Last week as Russ and I were getting out of the car with our required blanket and two pillows, he laughed and said, "This is what our lives have become." I laughed too, dreading the room full of pregnant women and their birthing partners. It all started looking up when we noticed two boisterous, giggling blonds following us down the long hallway toward the "women's pavilion" area of the hospital. I turned around to see what was so funny and Male Blond said, "We sure hope you know where you're going because we're following you!" I said I thought we knew and we all sort of started walking together. The giggling did not stop.

"OK. What's so funny?", I finally inquired. "We just can't believe we're doing this. It seems so stupid", says Male Blond. "We feel the same way", says I. "It's all so silly." We finally made it to the room we were supposed to enter and they just kept laughing. "You guys can NOT sit near us," I said, "We'll get in way too much trouble."

We ended up sitting across from The Blonds which was perfect for eye rolling at each other every time an idiotic, time-wasting question was asked by the guy with the pony tail. The Blonds had a lot of questions of their own, but they were for every one's benefit. For the most part, the two-and-a-half-hour class was informative and helpful. I'm definitely happy we're going.

After class, we hooked up with The Blonds. He's a larger-than-life Texan and she's an adorable school teacher. We found out they lost a pregnancy three years ago in a devastating way, and now they are having their first child. I think we're due around the same time. They're slightly older than we are, and just as clueless about what's going to happen. I bet one of these weeks we'll grab a bite before class.

Tonight we'll be practicing breathing through pain. I think she said something about holding an ice cube. We'll also be watching another video. Last week's was a birth that highlighted the importance of the Birthing Partner. I hope Russ knows how much I'm looking forward to going through this with him. It makes it a whole lot less terrifying knowing he'll be there holding my hand, and possibly my hair while I puke into a bed pan.

31 Weeks, Wednesday

2007-07-18T09:10:00.000-07:00

If you know anything about me or my blog, you know that I rarely or never feel the need to justify something I've written. BUT! After re-reading my last entry I'm slightly afraid that I've misrepresented myself just a tad.

I just want to make it clear that by saying I'm not "excited" yet... I don't mean I'm not thrilled, happy, and filled with anticipation. I just mean that I get "excited" about things when I know what they are. Like, I was incredibly excited about my wedding because I knew it was just a big party and at the end of it Russ and I would still be living together, only there'd be a piece of paper saying we were Mr. and Mrs. Arch. I also knew we'd be going to Hawaii. So, I was excited.

My point about Sesame is that I have absolutely no idea what to expect, so I have a lot of other emotions to dig through before I get to "excited". I just wanted to clear that up. I didn't want anyone thinking I wasn't beyond joyous about what's about to happen.

That's the LAST time I clear something up with you people! Geez! Can't you just understand me??

31 Weeks

2007-07-17T21:50:00.000-07:00

I'm about 155 pounds. 156 and 1/2 at the ob/gyn's office, fully clothed. In the afternoon. After eating a couple meals.

We had an ultrasound today and thank God everything looks great. He's about 4 and 1/2 pounds and seems to be right on track. We even got a 3-D picture of Sesame's face, and it looks like he might have Russ' nose. HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!!

Russ and I got back a few days ago from Oregon... Our last trip to see his whole family before he and I are a whole family. We drove up there with Bogie, stopping in Sacramento on the way up and on the way back. Doctor's orders were to get out and walk for at least 5 to 10 minutes every two hours of the road trip, so what would normally be a twelve to thirteen hour total trip time turned into about 15 and 1/2 hours split up between two days. But it was very enjoyable. We're good at road tripping.

We spent four days on Russ' folks' farm and had an incredible time. There was a lot of food, a lot of family time, and a lot of watching Bogie barking at cows and running full speed into open fields. We don't get to see him do that stuff very much in the San Fernando Valley. I even got a few minutes here and there to take in the fresh air, take in some deep breaths, and reflect. It was pretty great.

Last night Deena asked me if I'm excited. "About what?", I asked. "About the baby!!", she replied. I realized I hadn't really thought about it in those terms yet. I mean, here I am getting all ready for this baby, and the truth is I have no idea what to expect. A stranger is coming to live here. We have his room completely ready. We even have some toys and clothes for him. But we don't know who he is, what he's like... Heck, we don't even know his name!

I do have a connection to him, but so far it's just a connection to the form he's in now. I talk to him. When he kicks I say, "Good job, buddy!" When he kicks me in the ribs I say, "Take it easy, dude!" I rub my belly. I sing "Dream a Little Dream" to him in the shower. I pray about him, I dream about him... But I have no idea what to expect when he's actually here.

So, "excited" is not an emotion I'm completely in touch with right now. Expectant. Curious. Nervous. Hopeful. Scared. These are more in line with what I'm feeling. I think more than ever I'm taking things one day at a time. Right now I'm concentrating on the pregnancy, trying to stay as healthy as possible for me and for Sesame. And I'm readying my life as much as possible for what's to come. But it won't be until he's actually out of my uterus and in my arms that I can really, truly start thinking about what life will be like with him.

I'll tell you one thing, though. I'm getting more ready for him every day. Russ and I both are. I just don't want to have too many preconceived notions about what life will be like once he's here. That's the beauty of humans. You never know what they're going to give to you. I'm excited about the last couple months of this pregnancy. I'm looking forward to being awed by what comes after that.

30 Weeks

2007-07-07T15:42:00.000-07:00

Coming down to the wire now.

Everyone told me to look out for strangers touching my belly. Hasn't happened once. They talk to me. They ask me when I'm due and tell me my tummy's cute. They ask if it's a boy or a girl, and if we have any names picked out. I enjoy these exchanges immensely. But no one touches. Not strangers, at least.

I figured out it's because I have a natural look on my face that says, "Back off". Russ says a lot of the time that I walk around with a sort of scowl. I don't mean to do it. I try not to do it. But, you know what? If it keeps strangers from putting their hands all over me... I'm going to keep doing it! And hopefully it'll also keep them away from putting their grimy mitts all over my boy!

Don't get me wrong. I love it when ANYONE I know, or am at least very familiar with, touches my belly. I feel like it sends this amazing energy to Sesame. But even THEY ask first! I must be a real intimidating bitch. It's serving me well.

29 Weeks

2007-07-01T22:51:00.000-07:00

152.8 pounds this morning.

We can not think of a name for the life of us! I mean we've thought of plenty, but so far none of them are sticking. We'll keep trying, though. Or we'll name him Kid. Kid Arch. Has a nice ring, no?

Yesterday we went to a birthday party for our friends' one-year-old son and experienced generosity that we will certainly pay forward in the future. As we were getting ready to leave, they told us they had some stuff we might want to take a look at in the garage. We ended up leaving about 15 minutes later with a stroller, an amazing swing, a great baby rocker and an extra car seat base. These are all things we can now take off the registry because we already have them!! I can't tell you how cool that is. PLUS, it's sort of like recycling so it makes me feel really good in that way, too.

We were seriously blown away. Hopefully we'll keep it all very nice in case they want it back for a second kid. But we know we'll try to be as generous to someone else in a year with the stuff we're no longer using that's still in good condition.

What else can I tell you? I was sort of overwhelmed this morning, sitting on the couch with my dog, Bogie. He was leaning against me with all of his weight and his head was on my lap. It suddenly hit me that quiet moments alone with my dog would be few and far between soon. Things are really about to change. I know the changes are going to be amazing and wonderful, but there is a letting go of the familiar moments that is a tad scary, and even a little sad. Not sad, really. Just sentimental.

I'm trying to take in moments that will all be different soon. I know that once Sesame is here, I won't want to trade a moment with him for anything. But, until he is here, I've got to pay attention to what life is like with just me, Russ, Bogie, and the cats. There's just about 10 more weeks...

28 Weeks

2007-06-24T22:27:00.000-07:00

I guess there are certain things your ob/gyn waits to tell you until the last minute. But sometimes you have a casual conversation with someone at work who lets you in on secrets you might not be ready to hear yet. I had such a conversation at work on Friday and it involved two words I never knew I'd hear in the same sentence:

Mucus and Plug.

See, there's this woman at work who just had her third kid and she's in her early forties, beautiful, and seemingly very knowledgeable about all that is Baby. (She's also an example of how even a woman in her forties can have a kick-ass body just MONTHS after giving birth. For those of you keeping score, I am merely in my mid-thirties, so I can probably do it in minutes.)

Anyhoo... We were having one of our Baby Chats on Friday and I was telling her about my Braxton-Hicks contractions and about how hard Sesame is kicking and how wild it all is. And she said, "The weirdest thing is when your mucus plug comes out." At this point I had two options. One: I could say, "Oh yeah. Mucus plug. I've heard that's a trip." Or two: I could say, "WHAT THE FUCK IS A MUCUS PLUG???" I chose the latter reaction.

"Oh", says she, "Your doctor probably just hasn't told you yet. Your mucus plug basically holds everything in there. It comes out a couple days before you go into labor. I had no idea what it was when it happened to me the first time and it really freaked me out." REALLY? IT FREAKED YOU OUT? WHY WOULD SOMETHING LIKE A FREAKING MUCUS PLUG COMING OUT OF YOU FREAK YOU OUT?????????

Mucus plug. The name alone is enough to send me into an early labor. I'm gonna call it something else. Baby cork? Infant seal? Tot stopper? Let me try each of them in a sentence.

Goodness, it appears my baby cork fell out.
Well, look at that! My infant seal is in the toilet.
Finally! My tot stopper popped.

Okey Dokey! Tot stopper it is! So, now at least I know to look out for my tot stopper to come out sometime in August or September. Thank God someone warned me!

And now a totally unrelated word of advice:
Do NOT watch Style Network's new show "I Propose" if you are seven months pregnant and your emotional state is as weak as your bladder. You will waste a full hour of your life crying and snotting all over yourself.

27 Weeks, Thursday

2007-06-21T20:54:00.000-07:00

151 pounds this morning.

I have barely slept in two nights due to leg cramping, leg soreness from cramping, a pulling in my stomach, the inability to get comfortable, needing to pee every three hours, and the inevitable brain-no-shut-off-so-I-can't-get-back-to-sleep-syndrome, also known as BNSOSICGBTSS. The result? I'm an irritable bitch and I hate it.

Our nursery furniture is ready for delivery! I was so excited when I heard because it wasn't technically supposed to be delivered for at least another four weeks. Then I realized the room is totally NOT ready for the furniture, so I had a mini breakdown. But we'll take care of it this weekend and we'll get the crib and bureau next week. And then I'll be excited again.

No other real news to report. I'm too bitchy to report it anyway.

Oh yeah. I figured out why people say pregnant women have a "glow" about them. It's because we can't freaking stop sweating. Ooh! Sesame just kicked. And again! See? It's all worth it. (But I'm still bitchy.)

27 Weeks, Tuesday

2007-06-19T08:43:00.000-07:00

I don't want this to turn into a blog of complaints. It's just that there are so many hilarious things going on with my body that it SOUNDS like I'm complaining, when really I'm just trying to illuminate for you all that goes on during this magnificent time.

Yesterday I woke up at 8:00AM with the most horrific cramp in my left calf. I sat there with my leg up quietly saying, "Ow, ow, ow, ow..." until I made it loud enough to wake up Russ. "What's going on?" "My leg. It's cramping REALLY BAD!!" "Don't point your toe. Stop pointing your toe." "I'm trying!"

He then forced my foot back so that the muscle was being stretched and after a couple of minutes the pain subsided. But, HOLY CRAP that hurt!

When I logged on to my email, guess what was there? A message from Baby Center about leg cramps! It said that around this time you get cramping because of how the baby is sitting, the extra weight you're carrying, and the fact that it takes longer for the blood to pump from your legs to your heart. It said to drink a lot of water (which I do), and to walk (which I stopped), and to try to stay off your feet for long periods. It also said to have your husband push your foot back to stop the pain. Russ is good.

I immediately put on sweats and took Bogie for a mile-long walk. It felt really good, actually. I then drank a lot of water and proceeded to stay ON my feet all day cooking and doing stuff around the house. I couldn't help it! I needed to have food in the fridge, then dishes needed doing and laundry had to be done. Oh well.

So, this morning I woke up and could barely stand on my left leg because my calf is so sore. Of course, I can barely stand on my RIGHT leg because of my sciatic pain. You should have seen my walk to the bathroom. Hilarious!!

So now I'm going to drink some water, put on some sweats and try to work this pain out on a walk with Bogie. I will then attempt to stay off my feet as much as possible today. If you see a big girl hobbling from side to side with a dog that has to stop and pee at every tree in the neighborhood... Feel free to say hello.

27 Weeks, Sunday

2007-06-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

You know how when you eat too much, your stomach gets distended and you have to unzip your pants and you feel like you're going to pop? Well, multiply that by ONE THOUSAND!!!!!

All of a sudden today, I am feeling this insane stretching and pulling. And it hurts. It feels like Sesame is bracing himself against my uterus and pushing against my stomach with all of his might. I picture him squinting and grinding his teeth as he uses his Herculean strength to make more room for himself. O.K., I know he has no teeth and that his eyes are barely starting to open, but it makes for a funny picture.

He's also decided to start kicking so hard that you can SEE the kicks. That is some crazy shit, my friend. But, back to the pain. I'm wondering if this is just a temporary growing pain, or if it's just going to get worse and worse as each month goes by. It seriously feels like my stomach is trying to separate from the rest of my body. It's trying to secede from the union, if you will.

It's kind of hurting my ribs, too. Not to mention the sciatic nerve pain I'm now feeling on a regular basis. I fear waddling around for the next few months, holding my stomach with one hand and my back with the other. In the Sunday morning cartoon of my life, this is not an image I want drawn.

I think I need to pop in the pre-natal yoga dvd my friend bought me three months ago. I should also resume the walking I abandoned a couple weeks ago. BUT IT HURTS!!

Alright, I'll stop complaining! I'm just trying to let you in on all the beauty that creating life entails. This is hard work, people! But fear not. I am still basking in the glow of all that is wonderful about this magnificent happening.

Oh, and the zits are back. I should mention that in the interest of full disclosure. I am being blessed with my second adolescence. But, not too worry. They are 84% coverable with M.A.C. Studio Fix and some Lorac concealer. Plus if I really gloss up the kisser, and push up the milkers, you barely even look at my right cheek.

Off to bed!

27 Weeks

2007-06-17T00:38:00.001-07:00

Two things happened on Friday that I never thought I would see in my lifetime:
1: Bob Barker's last "The Price is Right" aired.
2: I became 27 weeks pregnant.

I wish I had some brilliant analogy about how "The Price is Right" is like pregnancy... but I don't. Oh wait! I just thought of something! Contestants do better on the show when they have the whole audience helping them, and supposedly parents do better when they have the help of their family and friends. You know... That whole "It takes a village" thing? How does that work?

I'll try again.

Pregnancy is like Plinko. Some days you feel great and other days your sciatic nerve hurts so badly, you want to punch someone. Either way, you have to let the chips fall where they may. See what I did there? Plinko? Chips falling? You have to be a "TPIR" fan to get it. And you have to be really lame to find it funny.

We bought an SUV yesterday. A small one. It doesn't get bad gas mileage. I mean, what's the point of shopping with canvas bags if I'm gonna drive a Hummer? Still, I never saw myself in one of these cars, especially since I've been driving the diminutive Beetle for five years. Russ and I walked out of the dealership feeling less jovial about buying the car, and more sore from being screwed by the salesmen. Those guys are a special breed. At one p0int, sitting directly in front of Blond Salesman and Middle Eastern Salesman, I looked at Russ and said, "My only goal at this point is to walk out of here not feeling totally screwed." Both salesmen laughed uncomfortably but knew I wasn't kidding. Anyway, we got the car. It kicks ass. We found out tonight it holds a ton of groceries in canvas bags. And it should be perfect for Sesame and all his gear.

Lastly, Russ and I are trying to get the guest room cleaned out so we can turn it into the nursery. Well, today we ended up going through a bunch of letters of mine from the late 80's and early 90's from my ex-boyfriends. It made me realize how different I am now than I was in my teens and twenties, and how grateful I am that I learned enough about life and myself to end up with someone like Russ, who is the only man on this planet I would want to procreate with.

This morning I was 150.4 pounds. That's the third thing I never thought I'd see in this lifetime: My weight over 150. It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?

26 Weeks, Wednesday

2007-06-13T09:27:00.000-07:00

I've welcomed a new friend into my life. Actually, let me rephrase that. A stupid idiot has crashed my pregnancy party and he seems to want to stay for a while. His name is ACID REFLUX! It's just another normal symptom in this whole pregnancy game and it's my least favorite, second only to the nausea I felt for four months.

This sensation, for those of you who haven't felt it, is like lava coming up your esophagus and making you feel like you need to throw up. But you don't. You just sit there while the lava burns your insides. Every once and a while you burp, and it's the best burp you've ever had! You can't lie down, so you basically have to sleep propped up. It's a ton of fun!!

However, yesterday morning at 4:45 Sesame kicked on command! That's right! I woke up and felt a desperate need to feel him kick, so I tapped on my belly and said, "Hey, kid. Kick for me." AND HE DID! He kicked a few times right where I had tapped him! It was like "Close Encounters" or something! That was freaking awesome.

Last night at the "Cory" taping, I had to leave about an hour before the curtain call, after all my scenes were shot. Why? Well, I was sweating like a pig, and the acid reflux was coming on. I've NEVER left a show early! I just knew I had to get home to my Pepcid Complete before things got really bad. And they did. But I was home!

Still 149.6. And yet somehow my stomach seems way bigger than it did a few days ago.

26 Weeks

2007-06-09T09:39:00.000-07:00

My dad had pretty serious surgery yesterday. He had his spleen removed. I don't want to write too much about it until I ask him if it's okay. But I'll tell you one cool thing relating to Sesame. I've been trying to get my folks to feel him kicking for a couple weeks but the timing is always off. My mom finally felt a kick Thursday night. Well, yesterday right as my dad was about to be wheeled into the O.R. Sesame started kicking. I grabbed my dad's hand and put it on my belly and Sesame gave him a couple good kicks. It made me so happy, I can't even tell you. They were definitely good luck kicks for Grandpa. Dad's in a lot of pain today but that's good because it means he's healing. The surgery went very well, thank you for asking.

149.6. That's how much I weigh this morning. Which means I've adorably gained the exactly one pound I'm supposed to gain each week. I apparently take direction very well.

25 Weeks, Thursday Morning

2007-06-07T07:05:00.000-07:00

So, I weighed myself just now.
Still 148.6.
Even though I had a bagel with cream cheese AND a half a donut and fruit for breakfast at the table read yesterday. And that was after the bowl of cereal I had at home!!

It feels good to be honest. Now I need breakfast.

25 Weeks, Wednesday

2007-06-06T20:11:00.000-07:00

Started back to work at "Cory in the House" today. I'm just doing a couple of episodes out of the first six back. It's silly how exhausting it is, sitting around all day doing basically nothing until you're called to the set for the ten minutes it takes to rehearse your scene. Silly stuff.

Sesame's been kicking a lot tonight. I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but it is so reassuring when he's moving around in there. It makes me feel like everything is going well, and it reminds me to talk to him. "Hey, Kiddo. How you doing in there? Stay comfortable. You only have a few more months before you're out in this scary world!" Today I told him how many people are here waiting to love him... ALREADY loving him, as a matter of fact! Yesterday I think he got his elbow or foot stuck sticking straight out. It was pushing hard against my belly. After about a minute, I gently pushed it back in. That was freaking weird.

I have to remember to post my weight more often. I want to do it for two reasons: 1. I think it'll be fun for you to know how much I'm gaining. 2. I want you to personally hold me responsible for LOSING the weight after I give birth. I figure if I post my weight going up, I should also post it going down. We'll see how I actually feel about that when I'm going through it. It probably won't be as much fun as gaining the weight. Duh.

G'night!

Was This Really Necessary?

2007-06-03T23:53:00.001-07:00

25 Weeks, Sunday Night

2007-06-03T21:22:00.000-07:00

After watching "The Sopranos" with Russ over homemade pasta sauce and fusilli, I began to clean the kitchen. Everything seemed normal as I washed and dried the dishes and pots. Then I began to wipe down the counters. I was scrubbing with my left hand and with each wipe my shoulder clicked. I mean, it clicked LOUDLY! It almost sounded like a gun being cocked, but maybe that's just because I have Sopranos on the brain.

So I switched to my right arm, began scrubbing, and again CLICK, CLICK, CLICK. What the hell? Is it because my joints are loosening? Why doesn't anyone warn you about this shit? I mean, it's not like NO ONE has been pregnant before! MY SHOULDERS CLICK NOW!! And ironically, it's happening just as I'm really getting into the whole cleaning thing. I mean, I really like to clean now. The last thing I need is clicking shoulders!! Ah, so be it.

Saw "Knocked Up" today. Loved it. Loved it. Loved it. It was incredibly funny and charming and sweet. There were some scenes in there that really hit home with Russ and I. But even if you're not pregnant, and never plan to be, it's a very smart, funny flick. Go see it. And I'm not just saying that because Judd Apatow was nice to me when I interviewed him, or because I have a huge crush on Paul Rudd.

Only other news? I have a giant gut. In case I haven't mentioned it.

25 Weeks

2007-06-01T23:57:00.001-07:00

I am going to tell you something that I don't normally tell people. Especially when I'm not pregnant. I'm going to tell you my weight.

I was 148.6 when I woke up this morning. HOLY CRAP!! That is a number that I NEVER thought I would want to see on the scale. EVER! And, you just know that number's only getting bigger over the next three months. Wow. I've officially gained 18 pounds. (If you're brilliant at math, you now know how much I weighed before the pregnancy). Now, here's the weird part: I love it! I mean, it's weird, and my center of gravity is off, and I have back pains and odd pulling-pains and my legs are kind of fat and my arms are kind of fat... But for the first time in my life, I'm letting myself enjoy some extra poundage.

Obviously I'm aware that's it's not permanent (unless I'm really lazy after the birth). And I know that all this extra weight is for the express purpose of creating a healthy baby. And obviously that is why I'm taking it so well. But give me a break! I'm a body-obsessed idiot and, at least for these nine or ten months, I'm a BABY-obsessed idiot who is loving her pregnant body!

On to other topics.

I've got lists of things coming up: I've got to finish registering, fix up my car to sell, buy a new car, buy my car seat to get it fitted into my new car, have my blood glucose screening to see if I have gestational diabetes, clean out the garage to store stuff from the guest room, turn the guest room into the nursery, book appointments with pediatricians, etc. etc. You should see the lists all over my desk! It's hysterical.

Here's the best news for anyone that's actually enjoying these entries:

BIRTHING CLASSES START IN MID-JULY!! Oh, I bet I'm going to have stories for you! All I know is, Russ and I are showing up with two pillows and a blanket and we're going to learn about birthing babies!! And there will be other couples there!! Hopefully, for the sake of this blog, at least one or two of the other couples will be really dumb. Dumber than me, even!

Other than that, I start back on "Cory in the House" next week. This will be my first work experience with a basketball-sized gut. It should be interesting. I can't wait to see how they hide it, which they're doing because single women on Disney shows can not all of a sudden become pregnant. That would scar children for life... Probably even more than the death of Bambi's mom.

If this entry seemed a little "all over the place"... OH WELL! I'm pregnant!! Cut a girl some slack!! Oh, and thank you for reading.

23 Weeks

2007-05-21T23:52:00.000-07:00

It officially became difficult today to get from a seated position to a standing position. I have to concentrate really hard, brace myself, and lift myself carefully out of the chair, or couch, or car seat.

The kid is kicking like crazy. I love it. It's like he's making sure I know he's okay. I hope he calls home when he's late for his curfew in the same thoughtful way.

Otherwise, there's nothing major to report. I feel huge, my stomach itches, and my heart beats so fast sometimes I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack. I read that it's because my body is producing so much more blood to accommodate the baby.

I'll be registering in the next few days so I'm sure I'll have much to report. Oh! We also test-drove baby-friendly cars today. I am becoming such a mom already. It's hilarious.

22 Weeks

2007-05-15T22:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, I admit it. I'm scared. I truly am. I'm petrified. I'm practically paralyzed at the thought of having to REGISTER for baby items, let alone having to RAISE A CHILD!

Sometime in the next week or so I have to go pick out all the stuff we need to have in the house before the baby even gets here. Here's just a snippet of the list from Consumer Reports:

Car Seat
Stroller
Crib
Crib Mattress
Bassinet
Crib Sheets
Receiving Blankets
Mattress Pads
Waterproof Liners for the Crib
Diapers
Diaper Pail
Diaper Bag

We're not even a quarter through the list, but I thought this was a good time to pause to let you know that even within this list there are hundreds of decisions to make. Like with diapers for instance. I want to start this kid off right in the world. I want him to know that I care about the Earth and what state it's in for him and his kids and his kids' kids. So, I'm considering cloth diapers for at least half the time. Meaning cloth diapers at home, disposable diapers when we're out. But I DON'T KNOW! I still have to do a TON OF RESEARCH on this one item out of hundreds that we need. At least Huell Howser already did a show about a diaper service that still exists in Los Angeles... So I know where to get them if I want them.

I spent a couple of hours today reading about cribs. Did you know that the slats should not be big enough for a soda can to slide through? I'm supposed to bring a SODA CAN with me to shop for a crib! And I'm not even allowed to DRINK soda right now!! The mattress in the crib should also not be more than two fingers width away from the sides of the crib. These are things a new mother is supposed to know.

More of the list:
Four Sleeping Outfits or Onesies
Six Side-Snap Tees
Four to Six One-Piece Undershirts that Snap Around the Crotch
A Small Baby Cap
Six Pairs of Sox/Booties
Nursing Bras
Breast Pads
Breast Pump
Baby Bottles
Bottle Drying Tree
bottle Brush
Burp Cloths

It goes on and on.

Now, I am well aware that I am not the first mother ever. I am also well aware that many women are armed with hardly any information and they do just fine. I may be arming myself with just enough info to make myself crazy!! But, the truth is I feel overwhelmed. I just feel like I could never know all the stuff I'm supposed to know.

And I'm just using the baby items as a metaphor for what I'm really feeling. There is going to be a child in this house. And he is going to completely depend on us for EVERYTHING for a while. And that is big. That is bigger than anything I've ever had to think about. And he's going to be here before we know it.

I just want to be good at this. I'm in awe of all the women who make it look so easy. How are pregnant women not walking around looking TERRIFIED? I feel like I want to hug every pregnant woman I see and say, "Are you as scared as I am? Don't you feel like you are in way over your head?" But then someone in a black trench coat a la "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" would probably come out from behind a tree and whisper in my ear that he could take my baby if I'm too scared. I'm not THAT scared.

Here's what I hope: That I make my kid feel safe without feeling smothered. That I make my kid laugh. That he wants to talk to me about stuff he may be embarrassed about. That I don't turn into a total wreck when he scrapes his knee and I see blood for the first time. That my husband and I can remain best friends and lovers. That my kid thinks I'm a great cook and wants his friends to come over for dinner. That we're the "Cool House" where everyone wants to come after school.

That I can do this as well as my parents did.

Heck, I just hope I can get to the actual birth without having a nervous breakdown. I'm scared. But it's only because this is the biggest thing ever. And I want to do it well. I will, right? Right. Thanks for the support.

21 Weeks

2007-05-11T11:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, technically today I'm 22 weeks pregnant, but this story happened yesterday, when I was still in week 21. Plus, this way it looks like I'm writing more frequently.

My in-laws are in town and we've been doing a lot of hanging out and chatting. It's nice because they're only here about once or twice a year, and it's a treat having them around. Well, yesterday morning I got up before Russ (shocking, I know), and sat on the couch having a nice talk with the folks. I had eaten a bowl of cereal and was a lot chattier than I normally am in the morning. Maybe that's because I usually don't have anyone to talk to before noon!

While we're sitting there talking, I notice my heart rate going up. I could literally feel my heart start beating faster and faster until it felt like it might jump out of my chest. I also got incredibly thirsty, so I stood up to get a glass of water. "I'm having this heart...", I said. My ma-in-law says, "heart burn?" "No, it's like palpitations..." Then I had to lean over and steady myself on the dining room table because I got incredibly dizzy and felt like I might pass out.

Immediately after, I broke out into a severe sweat. I'm talking dripping wet. And I had to go to the bathroom. My mother-in-law saw that I was wobbly on my feet, so she walked me to my room and woke up Russ. He brought me a glass of water and sat with me as my ears started ringing so loudly, it was all I could focus on.

It stopped as quickly as it started. I drank some water, took off the sweatshirt I was sweating in, and it all passed. The ringing started fading, my heartbeat normalized and all was well. The entire episode was probably only about seven or eight minutes and then it was like it never happened.

I called my doctor (who I absolutely LOVE) and he said this is normal for someone with blood pressure as low as mine. "A lot of pregnant women have fainting spells", he said, "It's not fun, but it's not dangerous". He said I should keep Gatorade with me at all times because it heads off the episode if you drink it right when you start feeling your heart rate going up. Russ immediately put some shoes on, went to the store and stocked the house with Gatorade.

So, there's my drama for week 21. It probably sounds a whole lot more dramatic than it actually was... But it wasn't my favorite seven or eight minutes ever. Now I'm in week 22, I have a ton of Gatorade at my fingertips, and I know that my mother-in-law and my husband are very helpful in stressful situations. That's important information to have.

20 Weeks, Wednesday

2007-05-02T15:24:00.001-07:00

"What's going on with your blog? It's just going to go from '19 Weeks' to 'Hello, Baby'?"

This message was left on our home's voice mail by my dad. It took me a second to realize that he meant I hadn't written in about ten days and I better get to bloggin'! So here we are, week 20, and I have a couple of stories for you.

The other morning, I was awakened at 6:30 AM by our beautiful dog, Bogie who was standing up and puking all over our duvet. This was a horrible way to wake up. I pulled myself out of bed, shut off the alarm and put him outside where he could finish. Then, I did my best to clean up the mess, and took the duvet off of our blanket to throw in the wash. At this point I would have expected Russ to wake up at least enough to sigh or open an eye. I would have been wrong.

After tossing the duvet into the washing machine, I went back to tackle our down-alternative blanket, which the barf had unfortunately seeped into. After struggling with a pet product made especially for cleaning up this kind of mess, I realized there was no saving it and the blanket, too had to be washed. I pulled it off the bed, smacked the wall as hard as I could, and headed outside to put the blanket in the laundry room.

Then I finally came back to the bedroom, pulled a clean sheet out of the drawer to cover myself with, and huffed back into bed. It was then that Russ rolled over to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, forcing me to exclaim, "I just got a taste of what life is going to be life when this baby's here and you're still going to bed at four-fucking-thirty in the morning!"

Side note: He's still going to bed at four-fucking-thirty.
(An interjection from Russ: Sometimes it's three-fucking-thirty... but who's counting.)

Story two: Russ and I went to our friend Zeke to take some pregnancy pictures. He's an unbelievable photographer who was more than happy to oblige. Here's a couple shots so you all can see I'm actually pregnant, and not just making it up so I can blog about something:

Story three: April 30th was our seven year wedding anniversary. It also happens to be the day the baby started kicking. The only way I can describe the feeling is bubbles popping in my belly. Unfortunately, it happened five minutes after Russ left for the day. I immediately called him and we shared a great moment over the phone, celebrating the anniversary gift our son gave us.

The last two days, we've been begging him to kick again. He's been ignoring us. He's obviously preparing us for his teenage years.

Alright! I'm now realizing I need to blog more so that you don't get so many stories at once. I shall try.

19 Weeks

2007-04-20T20:29:00.000-07:00

Today I am 19 weeks pregnant. I had my monthly ob/gyn appointment this morning and once again Russ and I were grateful and moved when we heard what the doctor described as a "very strong heart beat." Since I have yet to feel any movement, It's nothing short of reassuring when I am privy to that beautiful sound.

It occurred to me yesterday as I watched a man leave a restaurant, put on his sunglasses, and light a cigarette, that we humans have many rituals. I, myself am quite ritually-inclined and have become more so over the years.

I like to wake up about two hours before I leave the house to give me time to eat breakfast (either a bowl of several whole grain, high fiber cereals with soy and almond milk, or a bowl of oatmeal with flax oil and a sprinkling of Grape Nuts), watch a bit of TV (either The Today Show, Live with Regis and Kelly, or The Price is Right, depending on when I wake up), read and answer emails, check stocks and some news stories, use the rest room (I like to do this before showering, and I don't like to feel rushed. I also enjoy doing a crossword puzzle so I'm exercising my brain while exorcising my food), shower (every other day I wash my hair), get dressed, and put on makeup. Oh! I left out letting Bogie out, feeding him, and feeding the cats. And those are just my morning rituals!

I won't bore you with any of my other daily routines, but I will tell you that there are plenty of them. None are really as precious as my morning rituals, but they are all a part of my day, and they are all a part of who I am.

Well, it seems to me that these rituals are in for a big freaking wake-up call when this baby arrives. I think the days of long breakfasts, long showers, and long bathroom breaks are coming to an end only to be replaced by new rituals that include feeding, changing, clothing, coddling, and kissing a baby. I think I'm really going to miss my rituals, so I'm relishing them now. They are part of the reason I was willing to put this whole "breeding thing" off for so long. One of the things that makes us feel like independent adults are the quirky things we do that make us comfortable. I think a baby is going to throw all those comforts right out the window and kick my ass into adulthood the old-fashion way.

Having said all that... I'm quite sure my new rituals will be brilliant ones. I think they will be habits that make getting up in the morning miraculous instead of mundane. I'm pretty sure missing out on a long shower will quickly be forgotten the first time I wake up to the loving eyes of our son. And I'm sure I will develop new, comforting rituals of my own whenever I get the chance to spend some time alone. Besides, Bob Barker is retiring in June, so I probably would have stopped watching The Price is Right anyway.

18 Weeks, Monday

2007-04-16T14:31:00.000-07:00

I thought now would be as good a time as any to let you in on some of my many pre-natal symptoms. Is it pre-natal? Or just natal? Either way, there have been some symptoms, brother.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I was shocked. I always thought that when a woman gets pregnant, she immediately knows. I thought the second my husband and I finished making love, I would look at him and say, "You have planted your seed and soon I will give you an heir." But, it was not that way. However, a couple weeks after said seed was planted, I began falling asleep in my dressing room at work. I never fall asleep ANYWHERE but my own bed, or my couch if it's 3:00AM and I'm too tired to walk to the bedroom. So, this was hint number one.

Then I began having mild cramps and feeling very warm. Upon taking my temperature, we discovered mine was slightly higher than normal several nights in a row. Russ looked that up on line and saw that this was a common sign of early pregnancy.

Off to the store to buy some pregnancy tests!! We got the one with two in a package, just in case. I took the first one immediately, and peed all over the stick and my hand. The result on the test was "negative", but my hand came up positive.

Russ decided we should wait a couple days before taking test number two. So, one morning I woke up at around 4:00AM and found Russ was not yet in bed. This is very common, as Russ is a freaking Night Owl. I hollered for him and told him to bring in The Test. This time I carefully peed on the exact part of the stick you're supposed to pee on, completely sparing my hand. Russ, being a very good husband, immediately grabbed the stick from me and held it perfectly horizontal, like you're supposed to. What seemed like HOURS, but was only about two minutes later... The Test came up positive. HOLY CRAP!!! NO WAY!!! WHAT???? WHAT????

Russ and I cried and laughed together for about 20 minutes, then he went to sleep. I cried and laughed and cried and laughed and cried and laughed until 9:30 when I had to go to work. I was quite tired.

Almost immediately I started having seriously annoying symptoms. Nausea permeated my entire day, every day. I woke up nauseous. I went to sleep nauseous. I ate nauseous. I walked nauseous. I worked nauseous. No puking, just nausea. That went on until last week. My other favorite symptom was acne. Every pore on my face was filled with something. I also had lovely little bumps all over my chest and back, to the point where I couldn't wear a shirt that showed any skin at all. Luckily, Most of that is gone. Besides that, I have been beyond exhausted. But even that seems to be lifting a bit. And I can't tell you how glad I am to feel good again. I want to GLOW, damn it!

Now my symptoms seem to be slight lower back pain, residual exhaustion, and the fact that I don't digest my dinner until seven hours after I eat. Apparently, it takes a pregnant woman five times longer to digest food than it takes anyone else. So, after I eat, I'm uncomfortable for a long, long time. Which really sucks, because I want to eat a lot and I can't.

Oh, my newest symptom? Extreme joy. I wake up so freaking happy, it's absurd. And I'm pretty much like that all day. Plus, the nesting thing is kicking in and I'm cleaning out drawers and throwing away papers like a mad woman. These are symptoms I am thoroughly enjoying, and would like to endure for a while. Now I'm gonna go have a few spoons full of Chocolate Peanut Butter Ice Cream.

18 Weeks

2007-04-14T17:12:00.000-07:00

First, I'd like to say how excited I was by all of your comments on my last post. Don't be shy. Keep it up! It makes me happy. And apparently when I'm happy, the baby's happy. And I want a happy baby. It's your responsibility now. Don't let us down.

I just got my weekly email from babycenter.com. It's a website I happened upon right after I found out I was pregnant, as I frantically scoured the internet for any piece of information I could find. Whether it was true or false was the least of my worries, I just wanted to make sure there were other women out there who had been pregnant before and that some of them still had time to use a computer.

So, I found babycenter.com and signed on. Every week since then I get all kinds of juicy tidbits about what's going on inside my uterus. One of the most fun parts for me is when they tell me the size of my baby. In one of my very first updates, my baby was the size of a sesame seed. This led my best buddy Deena to immediately begin using "Sesame" as the kid's nickname. It has stuck to this day.

Last week, Sesame was the size of a large onion and this week he's the size of a small sweet potato. I guess they use food comparisons to differentiate the baby from a tumor. When you're sick, everything is the size of a golf ball, or a tennis ball, or a cantaloupe. Oh, shit! They use food terms for tumors, too! Well, that sort of took the wind out of my sails. Suffice it to say, babies are far more delicious than tumors. And, in the case of babies, you want them to keep growing and becoming bigger and yummier food items. So far, I've been a fan of all the foods Sesame has been compared to. And now I'm craving sweet potatoes.

Every day I'm more amazed at my growing belly. And at least once a day I come to the realization that, sometime in September, this kid's going to come out of my body and take up residence in our home. We're going to have another whole person living here! For a long, long time. And we're going to be responsible for him! More on that later. Right now I'm just going to concentrate on eating right so that my sweet potato can grow into a grapefruit.

16 Weeks

2007-04-04T11:11:00.000-07:00

I have been putting this off. It's been three months since I've blogged, but I knew if I came back I'd have to write about the main thing that's been on my mind for the entire three months:

I'm pregnant. Preggers. Knocked up. With child. The rabbit died. The test was positive. I am going to have a baby.

So, I guess I knew that once I started blogging again, it was most likely going to be a pregnancy blog. And frankly, I don't know if anyone will find that interesting. But it's going to have to happen, so why not start today. Right? Right.

I have plenty of anecdotes and fun stories, and I'm sure I'll get to them all. But let's start with yesterday. The day I officially became a Pregnant Woman.

I haven't put on very much weight in the 16 weeks I've been pregnant. As a matter of fact, I've only gained about four or five pounds. Most people look at me like I'm crazy or lying when I tell them I'm four months pregnant because no one can tell. Well, yesterday was a brand new day.

After I shower I put this cocoa butter stuff all over my belly so that I don't get the Dreaded Stretch Marks. Well, as I was doing that yesterday I noticed that I could only see the very tips of my toes beneath my gut. I had a gut!! I immediately woke Russ up to show him. "Look! I'm really pregnant!" "That's crazy", says Russ, "When did that happen?" "Just now!"

Then I was on my way to buy maternity clothes with my mom. We had planned this about a week ago just so I'd have some stuff when I started getting big. I mean, even though I haven't gained a lot, I have been popping out of my bras and my t-shirts are uncomfortably tight. So, I was sitting at breakfast with my folks when I realized I was in a great deal of pain. I quickly undid my belt and my buttons on my jeans and instantly felt better. I was going to the maternity store not a moment too soon! I officially couldn't comfortably sit in my jeans any longer.

Trying on clothes was exhausting. I think we brought close to 75 items into that dressing room. At one point I made my mom get me a bottle of water because I was so dehydrated. Several hundred dollars and many ruffly outfits and elastic-waisted jeans later... I was home with Russ walking Bogie. Now, pregnancy makes you klutzy. I am already a huge klutz, most notably proven by the time I knocked myself out and broke my nose WALKING INTO A TELEPHONE POLE!! Well, yesterday Bogie took his regular afternoon crap. I grabbed my plastic bags and began scooping it up, only to have my prescription sunglasses fall off my nose and head directly toward the pile! I cleverly batted them away with my half-full baggy, only to smear them with dog shit. Genius.

As we walked in the house and headed toward the back yard to hose off my glasses, I sneezed pretty hard. "Oh SHIT!", I yelped. "What?", asked Russ. "I just peed." "How much?", asks Russ. "More than you want to pee when your pants are still on", I replied. We both laughed pretty hard. "You're a mess", he said. "I certainly am."

January First

2007-01-01T16:52:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Insert horn blowing here.

2007, huh? Wow. Well okay, let's do this.

Hi, 2007. I'm Lisa. Nice to meet you. You seem pretty cool. So... Any big plans for you? I'm sure you're just trying to take it all in right now. Well, you've got 365 days to get a bunch of stuff done and have a lot of adventures. Make that 364. You've already wasted a whole day recovering from the last day of 2006. Not to worry, though! That's what you're SUPPOSED to do on the first day of yourself.

Well, I just thought I'd come over and introduce myself. I'm looking forward to spending a lot of time with you and accomplishing a lot during your stint here. Do me a favor and try to be nice. I mean, just try to go easy on us. We're really going to do everything in our power to make you feel welcome. I really want you to feel like I'm not taking you for granted at all. I think every day you have to offer is precious and I'm going to try to treat you that way.

I'm looking forward to learning a lot. I want to waste as little of you as possible. I want your days to be filled with laughter and hard work and I want to create a lot of good memories with the people I love.

Look at me, I'm talking your ear off. I'm sorry! I know you have a lot of other people to meet. So... Welcome. I'm very excited to see what you have to offer. No pressure, though. Just make yourself at home. It's really nice to meet you.

What?

Oh... Lisa. Lisa Arch. No problem! I'm horrible with names, too. 2007, right? Just kidding. I know your name. I was just trying to make you feel less awkward.

Nice to meet you, too.

And another month has gone by...

2006-12-28T23:26:00.000-08:00

Damn it. What's wrong with me? Why do I take such a long time off from writing in my blog? I mean, if I'm being honest with myself, it's probably because I mostly feel that I don't have enough interesting things to say. But, let's face it... I'm not forcing anyone to read this. So, if people don't find it interesting, they can save a lot of time by not reading it.

So another month has gone by since I've written.

And another year has gone by as well.

Well, here's something that at least I, myself find interesting. I was in London at the beginning of the month. December 6th through 12th, to be exact. I went to do a job for Comedy Central, where I got to interview the stars of a movie coming out next Christmas called, "Fred Claus". There were so many amazing things about this trip.

First, I've never been to London. I've barely been anywhere. I traveled a lot across the country in my early twenties lecturing about safe sex at colleges... Yes, really. But I was only in each state for a night or two. I shot Dinner and a Movie in Atlanta for a year and a half, but only saw the inside of the studio, the inside of my hotel room, and a few restaurants. I've been to New York and Back East a lot, and I've been to Mexico. For a week. That's about it.

So, this was my first big trip and I was doing it on someone else's dime. My parents had just been to Europe for THEIR first time in August, and I truly thought I'd be about their age when I got to go. But I went. I've gone. I've been there and back.

Second, I got to interview Vince Vaughn. I think he's hilarious and very talented. But, more importantly, I got to interview Paul Giamatti!! PAUL GIAMATTI!! You'll remember him from such films as "Private Parts", "American Splendor" and "Sideways". I think he is remarkable. And he was equally wonderful in person. I desperately wanted to geek-out and take a picture with him, but I tried to maintain my professionalism and so I did not. But I did tell him what a fan I am. Wow. That was cool.

Third, I got to see a lot of cool shit: St. Paul's Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, The Tower of London, The British Museum, Notting Hill, Covent Garden... It was unbelievable. I also got to have a lot of amazing meals with some unbelievably lovely and special people who I now call my friends.

I even had HIGH TEA!! I've recently cut down on coffee and become a real tea drinker. I now actually prefer it to coffee. So, high tea was even more enjoyable than it would have been just months ago. Tea, scones, finger sandwiches, and cakes are all served by a proper Englishman on fine china. I will honestly cherish that experience... ALL of my experiences there for the rest of my life. I hope I get to return with Russ one day soon. Of course I'd also love to see Italy, France, Spain... But I already get to say I've been to London. I still can't believe it.

It's been a pretty great year. I've worked a lot. I've gotten to spend a lot of time with my friends. I've gotten to cherish many nights with my family. I've spent a lot of delicious, lazy days with my man. I'm looking very forward to 2007.

And, I've been to London.

I Am Thankful

2006-11-24T11:53:00.000-08:00

Okay, this is going to be corny. It just is. So, if you're not in the mood to hear it just go to another blog now. I'm feeling mighty thankful today and I don't feel like hiding it!

Yesterday was my 35th birthday and it happened to fall on Thanksgiving. When people realized it was my birthday, and that I would be cooking for 11 people, I got a lot of "Oh, that sucks!" and "Dude... I can't believe you have to do all that work on your birthday!" Well, I have to say, spending my birthday cooking for my family, eating with them, laughing with them... It was the best day I could have asked for.

Russ and I got up around 9:00 and spent most of the day preparing food. He took breaks to watch the Lions game, and I took breaks to field birthday calls, but we worked hard. I love cooking with Russ. We make a pretty damn good team. At four o'clock, everyone showed up as we were putting turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, white-trash crab salad, green bean casserole, biscuits, and gravy on the table. My sister-in-law brought the yams (amazing!) and my mom brought a family tradition we call carrot pudding. It was a pretty great meal, if I do say so myself.

By 8:00, we were all full and exhausted and, when everyone left, Russ and I sat back on the couch feeling pretty great.

Then! Then! We had friends come over around 10PM, after their Thanksgivings were over. It was impromptu and unexpected and wonderful. We picked at some leftovers and laughed a lot at our Thanksgiving stories. I even texted with another close friend who was already heading home and too tired to come by. Our friends left around midnight and Russ and I collapsed.

When I woke up this morning I was overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. I am so very fortunate. I have amazing people in my life. I can't even explain to you the amount of love I feel for my friends and my family. This morning I shared leftover recipes and Thanksgiving stories with another friend of mine. It seems silly, but it meant a lot to me.

I think we are all judged by our looks, our successes, our houses and cars... But when I think about the people I love and who love me back... I truly feel like the most blessed person alive. And I am thankful.

Sky Miles

2006-11-04T14:43:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago I got an email from Delta saying my Sky Miles were expiring in December. I have a lot of miles from traveling back and forth to Atlanta when I was on "Dinner and a Movie". I actually have enough for a free round trip to Europe, or two round trip tickets anywhere in the states. That's cool.

Anyway, my miles were going to expire unless there was some "activity in my account". Funny... That's always been a euphemism for sex in my house. "Hey honey, I'm totally in the mood for some activity in my account", or "I can't have any activity in my account. It's that time of the month."

So, I just spent an HOUR trying to figure out what to buy from one of Delta's retail partners just so I could hold on to those miles for another two years. I ended up getting a 12 ounce bag of Holiday Blend coffee and a travel mug from Java City. I figure we buy coffee all the time anyway, and I could always use an extra travel mug. With shipping and tax it ended up being 23 dollars. I guess that's worth it to fly for free!

I just thought it was funny that I had to shop to keep my points. Now that I see it written down, it's not that funny. Remind me not to bring this up at the next dinner party I'm invited to.

I'm Not Crazy

2006-10-17T23:46:00.000-07:00

Do you have to be crazy to be creative? I mean, really... Do you have to be a nut-job to be considered a genius? Am I too happy? Is that why I write so infrequently? Is that why, whenever people tell me I should spend more time creating, I wonder HOW exactly I'm supposed to create?

I mean, I have something to say. And I love to write and perform and all that. But, maybe I'm just too damned happy to really make a difference in the art world... Or even the world in general! And, is that such a bad thing? I say, "No! That's not such a bad thing." I mean, I'll take happy over certifiable any day. But I do want to do more creatively. I do.

So, where does that leave me? Can I force myself to write every day until it just becomes part of my daily routine, like brushing my teeth or eating lunch? Can habit take the place of a cracked psyche?

Or, should I try to plunge myself into a deep depression by thinking about all the squirrels that get hit by cars every day? I could think about how fucked up the world is and how hate-filled some folks are. I could think about how people are hungry and there are kids whose parents are on drugs. THAT would get me good and depressed. THEN I'd be a true artist.

Or, I could make it an acting exercise. I could "play" the part of a manic-depressive mess who can only express her true feelings through the written word.

Or... Now bear with me here. I could try to just be happy and write accordingly. I mean, I know it's not conventional and the "happy market" is probably a lot smaller than the depressed one. But I'm not in it for the response as much as I'm in it for the joy it brings to finish something. It's cathartic to say, "I wrote something today". I guess I'd like to say, "I'm a writer", someday. But you can't do that unless you write.

So, I'm going to try to write happy. It's pretty unconventional but I might start a trend. Happy writers could become all the rage. We'll read our musings aloud at open-mic nights in coffee houses. But we won't smoke! And we'll wear bright colors instead of black. And afterwards, instead of withdrawing or hating ourselves for the miserable thing we've written, we'll go to Denny's for pancakes with our friends. And we'll laugh at all the great things that happened to us that day.

I like it. And look! I wrote something today.

If you don't feel like reading this, here's the gist: Be Happy!

2006-09-16T22:31:00.000-07:00

I recently found myself at an old-age home. Actually it was less of an old-age home, and more of a house where old people live. I guess it's becoming common for care-takers to purchase large houses and live there with five or six sickly, aging folks. If you're thinking, "That sounds fun!", you're wrong. And, let me just say that the people I know that live there really need to be there. And, they're being looked after by good people. They're also visited SEVERAL times a week by their family, who also take them out and get them everything they need. I just want to make that very clear.

Forgive me for the picture I'm about to paint, but I'm doing it in the hope that you'll learn something from it. I certainly did.

Walking in to this house I couldn't help but notice a distinctive smell. I can only describe the smell as depressing... And pungent. It was the smell of sick people. It was a smell that lingered in my nostrils long after I left the house and long after I sniffed everything I could just trying to replace the smell.

Here's what I saw when I walked into this house: The front door opened into a big room that housed a dining room table, two couches, a few chairs, and a pathetic excuse for a 17-inch television that was struggling to air a soap opera.

The care-taker happily introduced me to a woman in the way back of the room who was sound asleep in her wheelchair, her knees covered by a cliche' lace afghan. Then, I met a woman who seemed a bit too well to be there, although she didn't have 100% of her wits about her. I liked her immediately for two reasons: she still had a smile to flash, and she was playing poker on some hand-held electronic thingy. Then I met "Claire", an Asian woman with one tooth who was in a wheelchair and forgive me, but she was folded into herself. In the time I was there, she attempted to communicate by moaning and being answered by the care-taker with, "That's okay Claire, honey. That's okay, Claire." The person I was visiting was asleep on the couch. She woke up easily and was happy to see me, but didn't know who I was. Someday I'll tell you about her... I just want to get permission first.

So, here I was sitting in this house for about 40 minutes, watching sickly, old people watching a sickly television that they didn't even know was on. It made me feel a lot of things. And I feel like I have so much more to say about what was going on in my head. But, I'm just going to say this:

Live your life the happiest way you know how. And if you don't know how, figure it the fuck out. We get one go around, and we hear it all the time, but we don't really ever HEAR it. I believe it is our responsibility to be happy in this life. It's our responsibility to take care of ourselves. We should do good things for people. We should exercise and eat right because we only get one body. We should eat fried chicken and pie sometimes because we only have so many nights out. We should tell the people we love that we love them all the time. I mean, ALL THE TIME! We should laugh our asses off. We should have parties and tell secrets and ask for things we want. We should make new friends and take advice. We should ask for help when we need it and take our parents to dinner. We should love our spouses, families and pets more than we thought possible. We should fight to be happy. And here's why:

One day we might end up sitting in a wheelchair in a stranger's house. Really let that sink in. It took me about 40 minutes. But, by the time I left there I made a new commitment to appreciating this beautiful life even more than I already do.

One last thing: Maybe if we live REALLY HAPPY lives, we won't ever be sick enough to end up in a place like that. Both of my beaufiful grandmas passed away gracefully at home, surrounded by people who loved them. Yes, they were sick at the end, but only very briefly. I think it's possible that there is a link between living well and dying well. Too morbid? Sorry. Think about puppies and flowers. Now go be happy, damn it!

MAD TV Petition

2006-09-11T16:56:00.000-07:00

This is an unconventional post for me, but I'm doing it because I have some pretty cool fans and one of them has asked me to post this. Before I do, let me tell you about these people I call "fans".

I'm a low-level star. As a matter of fact, it's probably presumptuous to use the word "star" at all when describing myself. So I'll just say I'm a low-level thing.
Somehow, even low-level things get "fans" nowadays thanks to the "internets". Well, my fans are awesome. They email me, they congratulate me on gigs, they respond when I send out announcements... It's pretty awesome. PLUS, they're all over the world!! I know! I don't get it either!! But really. They're in Canada, England, Australia, New Zealand, Israel, The Blue States, some of The Red States, and other places.

I feel very lucky to know these people are out there and that they care about my career and that they all hope that I one day become a low-level star.

Now, to the point. One of these cool fans is part of a movement on PlanetMadTV.com to have QDE put out each complete season of Mad TV on DVD. Apparently they stopped after season one, and now they're just putting out "best of" DVDs. So look at it, sign it if you want, and help make this dream a reality. I appreciate your time, and so do my "fans".

Signed,
Lisa
Low-Level Thing Extraordinaire

"This is a petition to request that QDE Entertainment and Warner Brothers continue the DVD-boxed-set reissues of complete seasons of the hilarious sketch comedy series "MADtv." The complete Season One DVD set was issued last year; however, because of reportedly disappointing sales, the planned series of complete "MADtv" DVD sets has been discontinued. Although QDE and Warner are releasing a "Best of 'MADtv'" DVD this year to spotlight the show's last three seasons, we feel that a cutting-edge comedy series like "MADtv," with so many wonderful recurring characters and witty parodies, deserves to be released in its entirety, not just as a series of "best-of's." Therefore, by signing this petition, you will be helping "MADtv" fans in an effort to continue complete-season DVD releases of this wonderful show.
Please visit http://www.planetmadtv.com for more information.

Sincerely,
The Undersigned"

http://www.petitiononline.com/mad4dvd/petition.html

I'm posting

2006-09-09T21:40:00.000-07:00

Why don't I blog more? That seems to be the question of the hour. I guess I feel like I shouldn't blog until I have something super important or funny or interesting to talk about. That doesn't happen as often as you'd think. But, it's been two months since I've blogged and I've been super freaking busy and some cool stuff has happened so I guess I'll write about a little of it.

First of all, I've been shooting a new Disney show that will begin airing in January, 2007. It's called "Cory in the House" and it's a spin off of "That's so Raven." I'm a recurring guest star and so far I'm in five of the first eight episodes. I'm having an absolute blast. So if you have a kid, or you're a kid at heart, look for it. It's a really cute show.

A week and a half ago my best friend got married. That was a really big deal. Deena and I have been friends for 20 years and we've been waiting for this day for almost that long. It was a magnificent wedding in their backyard with about 50 people, home-cooked food, and the most beautiful ceremony. Here's a pic:

The wedding kept me pretty darn busy for almost all of August on the days I wasn't working on the show. And it was worth every second.

That's pretty much what I've been up to. It doesn't sound like a lot on paper, but I have really barely sat down at all in over a month.

That was a really boring post, wasn't it?
See? I told you I should wait until I had something interesting to say.
I promise I'll try to be more exciting in the near future.

Even More Stuff I Found

2006-07-03T01:19:00.000-07:00

High school sucked for me. Wait, let me rephrase that. High school REALLY sucked for me. I was not popular. I was not cute. I hated myself. I hated other people. I couldn't wait for 3:05PM, when the magical doors opened and I could head home.

There was one refuge for me. One oasis in the desert that was my youth. A little dramatic? Yes! But that's a perfect segue because that haven was the Drama Room. In the Drama Room I was popular. In the Drama Room I was slightly cuter than I was at my locker. In the Drama Room I was happy and comfortable and I could be myself. Without Drama, my high school years would have been unbearable.

Twice a year however, life got even a little more bearable! Because twice a year, I got to go to FESTIVAL! Yes, FESTIVAL! Festival was where we got to take all of our creativity and all of what made us unique and compete against every other school in the Los Angeles Unified School District. It was where Drama turned into DRAMA. It was like that scene in "A Chorus Line" where women and men are wearing leotards and stretching and singing, "God I Hope I Get It"! It was where a bunch of pimply-faced teenagers got their first real taste of rejection, and where the lucky few got to shine.

I failed miserably at many of these festivals. But, damn it, I picked myself up, rooted for the rest of my class, and vowed to try again the following semester. Then I vowed to try again the following school year. I would not give up because, at the very least, I was going to bond with other creative people and I was going to learn how to hear, "NO!", over and over again.

Then came 1988. There I was, all of 16 years old and Shakespeare Festival was on the way. I desperately wanted to do a monologue because I wanted to have only myself to rely on. (There were categories for monologues and group scenes, serious and comedic.) I also wanted to prove to my drama teacher, who never gave me a big part in a show, that I was worthy. Somehow I didn't get my scene assignment until three days before the festival. I think maybe I was originally in the serious category and was allowed to switch at the last minute. I picked a scene from "Twelfth Night" and played the characters Pyramus and Thisbe. My friend Sue Frietag directed me and we stayed up for what I believe was 72 hours in a row. Incidentally, Sue is now the drama teacher at the high school I attended.

Well, long story short, in a competition with about 50 schools, I won first prize. Which also meant you had to perform your monologue in front of the entire audience comprised of everyone competing in every category from every school. I believe I had already performed the scene seven times that day. And when I heard my name called I DRAMATICALLY collapsed to the floor and cried. I had only moments to pull myself together and perform one last time. I received quite an ovation. And the moment was made even better by the fact that my parents were in the audience! (They were judges in some of the other categories.)

Well, it's a moment I will never forget... Second only to my wedding day. Is that wrong? And I'm never getting rid of this damn trophy. It may be the only one I ever win.

More Stuff I Found

2006-07-01T17:34:00.000-07:00

I don't know why it takes me so long to post! I'm a loser! Leave me alone!

Okay, if you refer back to my June 5th entry you'll see that this is the second in a series. And here's some more stuff I found while cleaning out my house:

This is a picture of me and my grandpa Murray, my dad's dad, at what I assume was my first birthday. My grandpa was an unbelievably funny man. He could tell a story like no one I have ever heard and if you made him laugh, you felt like you conquered the world.

When my grandpa was alive, (he passed away 20 years ago), we had the best Thanksgiving dinners. We'd have our meal and then the night turned into a variety show complete with jokes, stories and performances. Every year my grandpa would request I perform "I'm Chubby", which is that short monologue where you push your cheeks in and say, "Hi. I'm Chubby. My mamma's chubby, my papa's chubby, and even my dog is chubby..." You know that one? Well, anyway every year I'd do it and every year he'd laugh until tears streamed down his face. Then my brother would perform a stupid song that made him laugh just as hard.

What else do I remember about Grandpa? I remember Sunday brunches with him and Grandma Frankie where he would cut everyone's bagels. It's funny what we remember about people. I can so vividly see his hands as he cut my poppy seed bagel. No one else was allowed to have the knife. I also remember that he smelled like cologne and pipe tobacco. I LOVED that smell. And I remember the only time I saw he and my grandmother fight:

I was probably about 10 years old and I had spent the night at their house. We were all getting ready to meet my parents at some dinner theater in Long Beach to see "Man of La Mancha" and I was sitting on the couch, sort of staring into space. My grandpa came in and asked me what I was doing and I replied, "Nothing. Just sitting here." Well, he got so mad! He asked me what was wrong with me and why I didn't pick up a book and learn something! So I started to cry and my grandma came in and asked what happened and she got mad at my grandpa for yelling at me! They fought all the way to the theater.

In a way, that was a good experience for me. It showed me that my grandparents were human, it made me feel defended by my grandma, and it proved that even the best marriages can withstand a big argument. I remember my grandpa apologizing later and giving me a big hug and kiss. I couldn't get enough of those.

Grandpa also made amazing lentil soup. He owned a restaurant before my parents were married and was almost as good of a cook as my grandma.

I remember the day he passed away. My parents came to get me out of fourth period. I was a freshman and earlier that day had performed HORRIBLY in some scene my brother directed me in. I remember them telling me what happened and feeling like I was walking around in a nightmare. We drove to Fullerton and comforted my grandma. It was all pretty awful. I got really close to Frankie after that. Especially once I was old enough to drive... We'd have amazing days together, talking over chicken salad and cookies.

I know there was a hell of a lot more to my grandpa. These are just my most vivid memories. I'm glad I have a picture of when we were both much younger.

crapped myself

2006-06-05T00:02:00.000-07:00

walked into the garage to take out the trash which i never do alone at night because it scares me but i wanted to be brave so i did it and there was a fucking possum and it scared the shit out of me. now i'll go back to never taking out the trash.

Sopranos Spoiler

2006-05-22T18:08:00.000-07:00

Real quick. I know I have to blog about more stuff I found, and I'm going to. But, last night's Sopranos really hit me. I loved it. Then I dreamed about France all night. ALL NIGHT! Carmella really had some realizations going on there, didn't she? Then, when I woke up, this was my very first waking thought:

Phil Leotardo LITERALLY came out of the closet to kill Vito. HE CAME OUT OF THE CLOSET to do it! I in no way think this was a coincidence. I think it was a completely thought-out metaphor. And it's the first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes this morning.

I am now considering myself "The Queen of the Hidden Messages." If that's too much of a mouthful, you can just call me Queen.

Stuff I found

2006-05-04T21:07:00.000-07:00

Once again, it's been way too long since I posted.

A couple of weekends ago, Russ and I spent three solid days cleaning out every nook and cranny of our house. Every closet, every cabinet, under every bed... Nothing was safe. After all was said and done, we threw away about 15 garbage bags worth of stuff, and filled our garage with the rest, for an upcoming garage sale. I can't tell you what a breath of fresh air it is walking around this house knowing that it's CLEAN! But, what I found in the house... That was the coolest part: Poems, diaries, letters I wrote, and some crazy shit.

In the next few entries, in no particular order, I'm going to show you some of the stuff I found and what it means to me.

This is Raggedy Andy. Raggedy Andy is musical. I slept with Raggedy Andy for several years when I was a little girl. As a matter of fact, I wasn't able to sleep WITHOUT Raggedy Andy.

From about the age of six to about the age of twelve, I would wind Raggedy Andy up every night and put him under my pillow so he could sing me to sleep. It would usually take about five or six of these windings before Mr. Sandman would actually stop by, but it always did the trick.

I can't exactly remember what song it was that Andy played. It might have been "Lullaby and Goodnight". As a matter of fact, I'm almost positive that was it. Either way, Andy was my best friend for a many years. No matter what was worrying me or scaring me in the dark, Andy was always there to make sure I got a good night's sleep. There are some nights now that I wish he still worked.

This is one of my first headshots. I'm not exactly sure how old I was in this, but it was back in the days when it was okay to retouch a picture so much that you looked like you were made out of plastic. We even painted on my eyelashes, and lines around my lips!!

I don't ever remember looking anything like this. I do, unfortunately, remember that brown leather jacket I'm wearing.

The funny thing is, they always tell you your headshot should look as much like you as possible so that when you walk into an audition, you are what the casting director was expecting to see. Well, I can assure you I never walked into an audition looking anything like this picture. I doubt I worked very much during that time.

I'll be back in a day or two with some more stuff I found.

Old People

2006-04-19T22:24:00.000-07:00

Russ and I were driving home from breakfast today, and there was a car in the far right lane of the freeway driving about 40 miles an hour. For those of you who don't know, that's really slow for the freeway. You should be going at least 55!

Well, I'm sure you know by now that the car was not driving itself. Instead, it was being driven by an elderly gentleman. I don't know exactly how old he was, but let's just say his head was barely clearing the steering wheel, his derby was from 1940, and his hearing aid was visible from space. He was old, folks.

My husband and I were immediately annoyed. This man was endangering the lives of EVERYONE ELSE ON THE FREEWAY! It's true. No one should fuck up the flow of traffic like that. It's not good for anyone.

HOWEVER....

After our initial outburst, I became sad. "That's sad", I said. "No it isn't", says Russ, "Sometimes you just have to accept that you can't drive anymore and hang it up." "I know", says I, "but that's precisely why it's sad." Then I had an epiphany.

There are cultures all over this globe that REVERE the elderly. A quick look online turns up many examples. Here's one from India:
Elders are the driving force for any family and hence the love and respect for elders comes from within and is not artificial. An individual takes blessings from his elders by touching their feet. Elders drill and pass on the Indian culture within us as we grow.
And from Africa:
For the Igbo of Nigeria, the eldest male is the group’s leader and accorded the responsibility to control the group politically, legally, and morally.

In these areas Seniors are looked to for advice, blessings, and the sharing of knowledge. These may be simpler places, where technology is not as prevalent. And this was my thought: We live in a culture where Technology is King. Without our computers, cell phones, faxes, Blackberries, or even our cars... we are lost. We revere the Almighty Machine. Therefore, when your reflexes slow down, your hearing lessens, your eyes weaken... You become less valuable in this country.

In a society where your only means of travel are your feet, or perhaps a buggy, you're never slowing down others by slowing down yourself. In a place where no one has to set their VCR or TiVo because conversation is the only entertainment, the elderly are the best story tellers, because they have the most stories. In a culture where music comes from the heart instead of an ipod, people, both young and old, are forced to look at each other and relate.

I'm not saying I want to live in a village somewhere in Kenya. I'm not saying I want to start walking to my auditions with a basket on my head. I'm not even saying that I think elderly people should be allowed to drive. I mean, if you're endangering people's lives, you should "hang it up" and let someone else drive you, or take a bus.

What I am saying is this: just because you can't drive as fast as you used to, doesn't mean you're useless. If I have to speak louder for you to hear me, I shouldn't stop talking to you. If you're having problems seeing me, I should get closer to you. If you are old, you are not invisible. But we treat you like you are. The elderly are important to us. They hold our past, our history, our lessons. We shouldn't disregard them because they've slowed down. We should care for them. We should be patient.

So, that's my thought for the day. I wish we could turn things around in this country and learn to respect those who have been here longer than us. Everything is geared toward the young. One day, God willing, we'll be old. And we'll want people to care.

Idol Thoughts

2006-04-04T21:46:00.000-07:00

I have so much to blog about. I'm sorry. I've been busy. And I can't post a REAL blog until next week, probably. But... here are some quick thoughts about tonight's American Idol:

Taylor Hicks wants off the show. No question. I have the feeling A.I. is sucking out all the love and passion he has for singing, and he's tired of it. He wants off. Tonight he wasn't himself. I still love him though.

Mandisa was not so good. Better than last week's sermon though.

Elliot Yamin was good. I agree he seemed nervous, but I like him.

One of my favorite moments? Kelly Pickler defending how stupid she is. "Yes, Ryan! I really am stoopid! I swears it! I mean, can people really pretend stoopid? If they can, I'd like to meet 'em!" And she can not stop apologizing! Great.

Paris was off key the entire song. THE ENTIRE SONG she was flat. Sorry.

McPheever bores the pants off of me. I mean, yeah she can sing. And she's hot. But her songs are boring and she has no soul. She's a background singer. A hot background singer.

Chris Daughtry is amazing. MY FAVORITE OF THE NIGHT! I voted for him three times. Yes, three. He did something totally new and different tonight and it was sexy and amazing. I dug it. A lot. He's good. And sexy. A lot.

Ace actually did a good job. Finally. He didn't make me throw up on our new carpet at all.

Okay. My absolutely favorite moment of the night:
Kenny Rogers tells Bucky how important it is that he enunciates every word of the song. Then Bucky comes out on stage and sings in GIBBERISH! I laughed so hard I fell off the couch.

A B C

2006-02-25T12:20:00.000-08:00

"A" is for alone. I've been spending a lot of time alone lately, as my husband has been working 16 hours a day for two and a half months. Don't get me wrong, I spend time with my friends, too. But, I've been having a whole lot of alone time. My days mostly consist of auditioning, grocery shopping, working out (I started again last week), walking Bogie, laundry, cooking, and fitting in some social stuff. But recently I've been doing something I never do: going to the movies alone.

Going alone to a movie is a whole different experience. I feel free. There's no, "Where do you want to sit?" There's no worrying about how my companion will react if the movie makes me cry. There's no worrying about whether or not the person with me is enjoying or hating the movie as much as I am. There's no sharing of popcorn. As a matter of fact, I brought my own popcorn to the most recent movie I saw. I was mostly doing it to save myself a lot of fat and calories, but I also saved ten bucks. And I wasn't worried about anyone making fun of me for bringing my own. All in all, it's a pretty great experience.

"B" is for "Brokeback Mountain". This is the movie I saw by myself last week. I had two appointments over the hill, one in the morning, and one at night, so I spent my time in between at The Grove and decided to see "Brokeback". Now, keep in mind Russ and I never go to movies. The last movie we saw in a theater was "Wedding Crashers", and the one before that was probably "Flashdance" or something.

The reason we never go to movies is because we always have a bad experience. For example, when we saw "Shrek" in Las Vegas, there was a couple BREAKING UP at the end of our aisle. I'm not kidding. They were breaking up!! There are also always people taking calls, or talking, or chewing loudly, or yelling at the screen. So, we tend to wait for stuff to come out on DVD or show on HBO.

So here I was at the Grove, watching a movie. And, at the most climactic moment in the movie, right before Jake says, "I wish I knew how to quit you"... The movie STOPPED and an ALARM went off!!! This is my luck in movie theaters! Then a calm, female voice said, "There is an emergency in this building. Please make your way to the nearest exit". She said it over and over again.

One thing about going to a public place alone is, when an alarm like that goes off, you're scared. Even as I laughed to myself about my dumb luck, my heart was beating one hundred miles a minute and I was sort of terrified. It's hard not to immediately think, "It's the terrorists!" But the fire trucks and paramedics came within minutes and ruled it a false alarm. I am not kidding when I say the movie restarted a breath before that now-famous line. All in all, I didn't agree with all the hype surrounding "Brokeback". I thought it was good, but not incredible. I was kind of hoping to cry since I was alone and all, but to no avail. However, I enjoyed my movie-going experience, false alarm and all.

"C" is for "Capote". Holy shit, you have to see this movie. Phillip Seymour Hoffman is so absolutely magnificent, I can't begin to tell you. I truly enjoyed every moment, every frame. Plus, I had my own popcorn, a whole row to myself, and my feet up on the seats in front of me. This is how movie-going should be! I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed my company that day. Please see this flick.

I plan on seeing many more movies by myself, even when Russ isn't working 16-hour days. Maybe I'll start a matinee club. Only, everyone in the club will have to sit in separate rows. Otherwise, it wouldn't be seeing a movie alone, now would it?

Pussy!

2006-02-20T11:33:00.000-08:00

Okay, it's been nine days since I've posted. Big lapse. I feel terrible. Let's forget it ever happened.

Lately, my cat has been making me cry. Yep. That's right. You know the movie, "Broadcast News"? You know how Holly Hunter's character takes the phone off the hook in her hotel room, puts it on her lap, and cries really hard for like two minutes, then puts the phone back on the hook and goes on with her day? That's what's going on with me. Only, my cat Misty is the trigger.

It happened the first time last week. Misty is usually an outdoor cat, but lately she comes in for a week or two or three at a time, and lives in the guest room. We now refer to it as "Misty's Room", since we never really have guests.

So, I visit Misty in her room a few times a day and pet her and talk to her and play. And last week I looked at her and just started crying. Bawling, really. The thing is, I've had her and my other cat, Sonny for about 10 years now. And Misty used to be a really anti-social cat. She didn't let me pet her for the first two years. Then, she'd just let me pet her head. Then gradually she let me pet her back, and she'd even sit next to me for a minute or two. Well, over the last year, she's let me pick her up and pet her belly and practically throw her around! She even sits in a ball in the middle of my lap and lets me knead her head. She loves it! She trusts me! And that makes me happy... and maybe a little emotional.

But last week, I really looked at her. And I saw how gray she's gotten, and how old she is. And I guess it made me realize how much time has passed, and how quickly it all goes. I mean, a minute ago she was this scared, mean little kitty and now she's got this trust, and wisdom and she's... older. Even as I type this I realize how cliche' it must sound. But it's how I felt at the moment, and I lost it.

Then it happened again the other night. I was petting her and I just started crying again. And it's kind of embarrassing! But it's also kind of cathartic. And it makes me hyper aware of the fact that I'm getting older, and hopefully smarter, and I really have to start making the most of my time. I procrastinate a lot, and I want to stop doing that. It's time to get stuff going, you know?

So, there you have it. My beautiful cat, Misty is obviously trying to teach me something. She wants me to get off my ass and live life to its absolute fullest!! Or maybe she's just playing a cruel cat joke on me, and she's spraying some sort of pheromone in her room that makes people cry. Cats have been known to do that sort of thing. They're vindictive little shits.

How Symbolic

2006-02-11T14:05:00.000-08:00

I needed to put something in the wash that I bought last week. As I'm sure most of you have seen, instead of words on the tag there were symbols. Only symbols.

Well, I need this damn thing to be washed, and I just took in all my dry cleaning and I'm not going back there. So, here's what I did:

I went to www.textileaffairs.com, and it answered all my questions. My garment is now happily spinning around in a cold wash which will be followed by a low-temperature drying, and a light, steamy ironing.

Moments like this make me love living in the age of the internet.

The Omelet, The Priest and the Mustache

2006-01-31T06:45:00.000-08:00

I just had the most surreal breakfast at a Mexican cafe in Miami.

I was eating alone, with a book. Which, if you ask me, is far from eating alone. It was loud because there was construction happening on the sidewalk on which the cafe sits... jack hammers and all. But it seemed the best choice for a breakfast near to the hotel. And it turned out to be a delicious breakfast: spinach, tomato and mozzarella omelet, potatoes, wheat toast and coffee. But that isn't important.

At a booth by the open window literally inches from where men in orange vests pounded the pavement, sat a boy around twelve years old and a priest. They sat on the same side of the booth, next to each other, their backs facing my back and a mirror that hung above the bar that I could watch them in. I only saw their backs, but I heard every word.

The gist was this: the boy had done something, or a series of things, wrong and the boy's mother had asked this priest to speak with him. The priest had a booming voice with which he prodded the boy into starting a new chapter of his life. "What are the effects of your behavior," he asked, waiting for a response. Then he held up a napkin. "If I let go of this napkin, it will fall. The cause is I let go. The effect is it falling. So, what is the effect of your behavior?" The kid thought for a second. "I upset my mom," he said, "And I might not get into a good school."

This kind of talk went on and on. It seriously felt like a scene from a small independent movie shot in Guatemala. "What church are you going to on Sunday," asked the priest. "Well, sometimes we go to (unintelligible) and sometimes we go to (also unintelligible)." That's not good", says Mr. Priest. "You need to tell your mom to find one church to go to every Sunday. You need that kind of consistency..."

He then continued to make all kinds of analogies and statements like, "Start doing small things better. Don't feel like you need to make any grand gestures." The kid replied, "But big things would be good." "Sure," says Priesty, "But it's more important to do a lot of good small things than one big thing done just to impress your mom. Do your homework. Do the dishes. Ask your mom what you can do around the house. Stay focused."

This guy was on a roll. And the kid was listening! Then the priest starts talking even louder, in Spanish, and I look in the mirror to see an 80-year-old woman sitting at the table. Now it REALLY looks like an idie film. The lecture stops long enough to chat with the old lady, then continues. Then all of a sudden, they're getting up to leave and now they're standing just outside the open window, still close enough and loud enough for me to hear.

I guess by this point the priest was drunk with power because the kid had been so receptive to his words. "I see you're growing a mustache," he says. "Yeah, I'm trying to," he replies. Then the priest goes on to say that the kid shouldn't believe people when they say he should shave his mustache to make it grow faster. "But, my uncle says I should," says the kid. "Don't listen to him," says the priest. "Your hair will only grow as fast as it grows and shaving it won't speed it up. It just feels thicker because it's shorter. In a month, your mustache will be thicker because it will have grown for another month. But there is nothing to suggest shaving it will help. If I punch you in the stomach, your mustache will be thicker in a month, but will it be because I punched you in the stomach? No. It'll grow whether or NOT I punch you in the stomach because you'll be a month older."

Woah. Priest Dude! Your analogies just got really awkward.

"Say hello to your grandma," he said. "Be a good kid," he said. And then they were gone.

Thank you, Miami. That was some breakfast.

Flying Solo

2006-01-29T20:26:00.000-08:00

I am not a fan of travel. Not a big fan. I mean, sure the honeymoon was great. And I didn’t so much mind getting on a plane when I knew it was headed for a week of great sex with my husband in Hawaii. I had no idea it was going to lead to THAT MUCH sex, but I didn’t mind flying that week. I guess flying with Russ in general makes it easier, but he’s not a big fan of flight either, so it only makes it a little easier.

Occasionally I have to travel for work. It’s always a double-edged sword. The work, I’m ecstatic about. The flight makes me nauseous. Of course, they usually fly you first class for work, so it takes the edge off a little. Okay, a lot. I mean having a mimosa at 9:00 AM in your giant seat is a hell of a lot better than waiting an hour for your can of coke and sitting squished next to some other disgruntled flyer.

Regardless, stuff happens to me when I fly. I can’t sleep the night before. Last night I slept for a little under four hours. And my “schedule” gets all screwed up. You know what I mean… my “schedule”. Come on! Don’t play dumb! My pooping schedule! I get constipated and it ruins everything! You knew what I was referring to all along. You just wanted to make me say it. I get all intestinally twisted and it sucks!

And it’s not just the flying. It’s the fear I’m going to suck at the job I’ve been hired to do. It’s the saying goodbye to Russ and Bogie at 6:00 in the morning, knowing they’re both going back to sleep without me. It’s the sneezing and coughing on the plane. It’s the lack of toilet seat covers in the bathroom. It’s the thought of hanging out with people I don’t know very well for a few nights and fearing they’ll think I’m a dork. These are all the things that make my stomach tie into knots that a boy scout would envy.

But I am trying to make the best of it. I am trying to have faith in myself being funny for the camera, and faith that Russ will feed the cats and Bogie even though that’s usually my job. I’m also trying to get the fucking flight attendant to get me a cup of coffee. Oops, sorry. First class goes to my head a little.

Project Hilarious

2006-01-26T14:14:00.000-08:00

Okay, super fast-

I was watching "Project Runway" last night. Even if you don't know the show, stick with me on this. Nick, one of the designers, lost his model to another designer and was super pissed about it because the model he inherited is a terrible walker. As the head of the design center put it, "She's like a giant marshmallow".

Well, when it came time for the runway portion of the show, Nick's new model felt she had a lot on the line and really wanted to make Nick happy. And this is what she said:

"I'm going to model really hard".

Did you see what I just wrote?

"I'm going to model really hard."

Just take that in and have a great day.

New Recipe

2006-01-23T23:36:00.000-08:00

This is a record for me: three posts in one night.
I came up with a recipe last night that I really liked, so I'm sharing it with you.

I make taco salads all the time, but I wanted to make one without the msg-laden taco seasonings, and I wanted to use chicken, so here's what I did:

Poach chicken in chicken stock, a little Bernstein's Italian Dressing, a little Lawrey's Season Salt, and a little Garlic Powder. When it's cooked, let it cool a little bit, and shred it. (By the way, it'll be fine if you just poach it in water, too.)

Make a dressing with Bernstein's Italian Dressing, Fresh Lime Juice, cumin, salt, pepper, red pepper flakes and fresh cilantro. Let the cooked chicken marinate in the dressing for about 20 minutes.

Heat olive oil in a wok. Add an onion, cut fajita-style (sort of in long strips) and about 3 garlic cloves minced. Cook until the onions carmelize a bit then add the marinated chicken and cook until warm.

Now, here's a trick for tostada bowls that Deena taught me years ago:

Take a burrito-sized flour tortilla, and dunk it in a bowl of water that has a little olive oil in it. Let the excess water drip off the tortilla. Take an empty can (like the one you'll take the refried or black beans out of), turn it upside down, and put some foil on top of it. Lay the moist tortilla on top of that, and place the can on a foil-covered cookie sheet. Cook at 400 for about 10 minutes, and out comes a perfect tostada bowl!!

Put some refried beans in the center of your plate to anchor the bowl. Then add beans, shredded lettuce and any veggies of your choosing. I add cucumbers, olives, ortega chilies, salsa, guacamole, lite sour cream, fresh cilantro, shredded cheese, and the chicken mixture. YUMMY!!

(I kind of feel stupid for posting a recipe. But I'll act like it's the first in a series so you think it's cool.)

Well, there you go! The first of my recipe series! Hope you liked it! Let me know if you try this recipe, and if you like it. Bon Apetite!

(Did you buy it? Good.)

My Hot Husband

2006-01-23T23:32:00.000-08:00

The incredibly talented man I married nearly six years ago has started a blog. You should go look at it. Every day. For the rest of your life. Come on... it's not like you have anything else going on.

Seriously though, he's very smart and funny and finds weird shit on the net all the time. He likes sharing the weird shit he finds. Let him share with you. Go there now.

News

2006-01-23T23:26:00.000-08:00

I'm not a big "news watcher".
I don't know a lot of "stuff".
I'm what you might call, "Ignorant".

So tonight I turned on the channel 4 news to see what was going on, and here is what I gleaned:

Fred Rogan and Fritz Coleman have some kind of tanning contraptions in their homes and they both stay in them way too long.

President Bush hasn't seen "Brokeback Mountain", but he likes ranchin'.

Some guy died sky-diving and no one can find him.

Don Ho performed last night and is starting to feel stronger since surgery. He looks super weird.

I don't feel any more informed.

Even Seacrest Can't Ruin It

2006-01-18T00:33:00.000-08:00

Idol is back.
Idol is back.
Idol is back!!!

I don't know what makes me happier: "Beauty and the Geek" or "American Idol". But does a girl really have to choose? And to think, Ashton Kutcher is behind one while Ryan Seacrest hosts the other. Two pretty boys in love with themselves. And neither of them takes anything away from the beauty of either show.

I'll even go as far as to say Ryan doesn't bug me. That's right. I think he's doing a fine job. I mean, lay off the guy! It's not HIS fault he has thirty jobs!! Hollywood LOVES him! He knows he needs to take everything he's offered because this is a fickle, fickle town my friend. And he is not the least bit offensive hosting "AI". Just back away slowly. Leave him alone. He has a hair dryer and he's not afraid to use it.

Some highlights from the show?
The Statue of Liberty!!
The Crazy Guy they LET GO TO HOLLYWOOD!
The guy from the small town who had his grandma with him? DID YOU SEE THAT? HE SINGS LIKE AN AUNTIE!!!!!
And, ladies and gentlemen...
Shmaris Shmilton!!!! She was the best. You know who I mean.

Now, "Beauty and the Geek". I implore you to watch this. I am literally on my knees begging. I didn't see any of season one. But I watched the first episode of season two, and I am not afraid to tell you... I cried. I did! It was PHENOMENAL!! That Ashton is doing something right. No wonder Demi loves him. He's sensitive. He wants the beautiful people and the smart people to understand each other. I LOVE IT! It's a lovely show. I'm not kidding! Just watch it! It encores Wednesday night!

Oh, and "Project Runway" is on fire.

I'm a sad, sad girl.

I'm Back

2006-01-14T00:50:00.000-08:00

So, I haven't written in 12 days because I've been busy putting on this charity event and I've been sick every other day.

The event was last night. Well, now it's technically Saturday, so it was two nights ago. It was pretty great. It was a comedy night to raise money for City of Hope, which is this amazing hospital and research center in Duarte, California. The line-up of comedians was insane!! I haven't laughed that hard...

But boy, was it stressful!!! That shit is HARD to do. But everyone had a great time, and gave the hospital lots of dough and I'll do it again next year, and probably every year for the rest of my life, until I've raised a million dollars for the City of Hope.

I know I have stories I could tell you, but I don't even know where to begin! So, I just wanted to tell you why I haven't been around. I'll tell you more shit this weekend. I'm still deliriously tired from the other night.

And there you have it. My lamest blog entry thus far. But at least I'm trying not to go a full two weeks without writing! I apologize.

Does This Mean Anything to ANYONE?

2006-01-01T17:15:00.000-08:00

I was just in the shower washing the 2005 off of me, and this little ditty was in my head:

Buffalo swing set come as you are
Buffalo swing set come as you are
Buffalo swing set
Buffalo swing set
Buffalo swing set
Come as you are!

Now, I'm assuming I heard something at some point today that sounded like "Buffalo swing set", and then my mind turned it into that. But, I have no idea what I could have heard, or why it became what it did, or why I can't get it out of my head.

So, if you or someone you know has a band called "Buffalo Swing Set" or is from a planet called "Buffalo Swing Set" or named their first born, "Buffalo Swing Set"... Please have them contact me. I think it's imperative we talk.

City of Hope Comedy Night

2005-12-31T00:54:00.000-08:00

Here's a link to the Comedy Night I'm putting on to support City of Hope. It's an amazing cause, with amazing comedians and great raffle prizes. Everyone performing is donating their time, and every raffle prize was given generously by wonderful businesses which I will list at a later date.

I'm having a great time putting it together and I hope it's incredibly successful. It's our second one in three years, but from now on it will be an annual event. If you live in L.A., you should come!!

2005, meet 2006

2005-12-31T00:21:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd end the year with some more "Things That Seem Obvious" as well as some random thoughts and favorites from 2005.

A Couple of Things That Seem Obvious:

My friend Dan taught me something on Thanksgiving: If you put a damp paper towel over something you're cooking in the microwave, it helps to heat the food as well as keep it from exploding all over the inside of the microwave. I've been doing it ever since, and it works!

My mother-in-law taught me something on Christmas: if an egg sinks in a glass of water, it's a good egg. If it floats, throw it out! She grew up on a farm and doesn't pay attention to dates on packages. I'm impressed.

Flying ANYWHERE during the holidays SUCKS!!! (Especially in a prop plane).

Good friends will always be there when you need them.

Always leave emergency numbers for the people watching your house. They are imperative in case something goes wrong. The more, the better.

The older you get, the more you cherish your family and friends. The ones that stick around through the crap are the ones that were and are the truest.

Favorites from 2005:

Sassybax.com: these bras are un-freaking-believable! I met the designer/manufacturer on stage at "What's My Line", and asked her to donate to the City of Hope charity event I'm doing. She was extremely generous, and now I wear her bras. They're amazing!! (And the show is great, too!)

Butta-Bing toffee. I can not say enough. The best thing I've ever tasted.

Junk Food T-Shirts. They're funny and fun and they make me happy. They're essentially tees with retro logos, like sugar cereals and stuff.

Big Kid Collectables in Sherman Oaks. This is the place to go if you're into retro. So fabulous. I can always find a gift there. This is also where I buy my Junk Food Tees.

Huell Howser. My friend Max introduced me to Huell. He's been around for more than 20 years, but I never knew. He does a bunch of shows about California. I can't describe him... He's just wonderful.

My friends' blogs. Mike Markowitz and Max Koch make me very happy when I read their blogs. They couldn't be more different, and now I can't imagine a day when they don't write something.

I'll post more favorites in future blogs.

I feel incredibly close to my friends this year. It seems impossible to be this lucky. It was a busy year for everyone I know, and we all managed to stay in touch and keep each other updated. My husband, my parents, my friends... We all stuck it out and are closer for it. I'll cherish the "catch-up" days I had with all of them.

I am so grateful for so many things that I won't bore you with here. I hope that 2006 brings so much happiness to all of you reading this. (Unless you're an evil asshole. If that's the case, I hope 2006 sees you changing your ways, or gets you a loogy in your soup at the deli.)

I am going to try to make 2006 a productive, happy, less-stressed, more-fun kind of year. 2005 was pretty damn great, but I'm going to make 2006 even better!

Thank you to anyone who has read my blog this year. I am enjoying it more than I could even explain. I hope I have a lot more to say, and that you'll want to hear it in the coming year.

Happy New Year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!