But I don't wanna

Productivity is a thing that comes and goes for me lately.  I either want to or I don't.  The motivation is there or it isn't.

It makes me very moody, mainly because I like getting things done.  The last couple of weeks I've been working on my quilt, and amazingly enough I have the top and bottom done, all I have to do now is lay them out with the batting and baste it all together.

Easy, right?

Except that I am making a queen size quilt and there isn't a queen size space in my house to lay it out and baste it (I want to make sure I get everything even).  Why not do it outside on the  grass?

Because of the freakin' wind, rain, snow, and periodic hail.

Bah!

Unfortunately, I'm a little crazy.  Since I have set my sights on getting the quilt basted (loosely sewn together) it's very difficult for me to move on to something else (like making that doll for the upcoming family reunion my mom asked for).

(I should also mention that there is a folding table at Costco that I have decided I can't live without, and since I don't have it yet it is hard to start making something...  because, having it would make making something so much easier.)  

Usually when I come to this type of creative precipice I throw up my hands and watch yet another episode of Angel on Netflix.  But today, I had Glee recorded and laundry to fold, and in order to allow myself to watch Glee I had to fold the laundry.

Do I sound nuts to you yet?

So, while I was not creatively productive today, I was housewife productive.

And as soon as I buy myself that table, I will be otherwise productive as well.

Ah-HA!

For those of you holding on to your tippy-toes waiting for my mind to return to me, the word is Routine.  I am a very routine (not schedule) oriented person.

Here is how it usually goes:

I wake up
Change JG's diaper (if she's up)
Put JG in the midst of toys and feed the animals
Put tea kettle on to boil
Play with JG
Get the computer and waste time checking email, blogs, and playing with facebook fish...

And on and on.  I know, it is SO exciting, which may only punctuate how strange I am that when that routine changes (like not having to go to work) I break down a little.

What a weirdo.

I have to grade papers and stuff now, something I've been procrastinating all week!  Joy!

Tight

Have you ever had the sense that the fabric you are made of is being pulled taught, and the more you move the more shallow your breath becomes?

It's strange, I was really looking forward to having a week off, having time to accomplish some of the random things that have been swimming around in my head...  but, I can't seem to jump start my head into going forward.  Instead it rummages deeper into the past and finds things that I am irritated about, things I have buried and/or thought I was over.

I am still mad at Westminster for the ONE teacher who treated me like a child.  I am angry at her for staining my experience, which up until that point was splendid.

I keep thinking about my grandmother and how much I miss her.  I'm not sure if I'm angry that she's gone, but I keep replaying this memory of when I was about 14 and she gave me this pair of dangly gold earrings.  She asked if I wanted them and emphasized that if I didn't that would be okay.  I looked that the earrings, which to me at 14 seemed gaudy and over-the-top, and told her no, I didn't want them.  My friend Courtney was there at the time and said she was amazed, she could never have said anything like that to her grandmother.  I thought Grandma didn't mind, but I noticed later in the day that her feelings were a little hurt.

To this day I feel guilty for hurting her feelings about something so trivial.  She never said anything, but she was the kind of woman who's eyes spoke novels, if you looked the right way.

I'm also irritated that I can't seem to spend any money.  I know.  Lame.  Every time I go to buy something I think I want the moment I take the action to purchase it I'm not interested anymore.  I'm like a balloon, all filled up with excitement at the thought of having something new, only to deflate when I realize that owning it wouldn't do me that much good.

What happened to the consumer inside me?  I still have that little voice that urges me to buy, but apparently it's being tempered with my budding buddhism, which says that such things are unnecessary for true happiness.

It's true, but I'm 30!  I AM THIRTY, and I have this selfish need to gift myself something (sort of like a pat on the back) for the amazing year I've had: masters degree, baby, SAHM, job, other stuff.  I just can't think of what that gift should be, or when I do I don't want it anymore.  Take that capitalism!

And JG has been keeping me up all night.  She wiggles and whimpers and cries and refuses to let me sleep on my own.  I'm not sure how to rectify the situation, I know that she's miserable because of teething, but when we're both miserable the next day due to little sleep no one is the better for it.

Poor Alex, he the one having to deal with all of this.

It is Done

I did it.

I finally followed the crowd.

I joined facebook.


I know, you are all utterly amazed and can't believe it... or you don't really care.  Whatever.

I was thinking this last week about what an isolationist I am, how I spend so much time all by my lonesome (and JG), and how I am horrible at reaching out and being social.

Now, I realized that in today's day and age there is technology that can help to temper such an unhealthy way of living.  It's called social media, and I too can join the herd and connect with people I haven't talked to in years.

And I have!  Old best friends, ex-boyfriends (ok, just the one), people I went to school with.

But, I do have to say that I'm only acknowledging the people with names I recognize (and let me tell you, I am terrible with names).

It's so weird to talk the people I haven't known anything about for so long.  It's really nice to catchup and see how well they're doing.  No one that I know of has ended up in a crack house with some nasty monkey on their back.  And that is good.  All is good.

The sky hasn't fallen the way I thought it would if I signed up.  I'm actually pretty happy I did.

New Years Funk

Without meaning to I fell into a bit of a funk.  I was on a forced creative high before Christmas, trying to get things done, but it only takes one failure (stupid doll dress) for me to throw my hands up in the air and say to hell with it.

For my sanity's sake, making things keeps me emotionally healthy and happy.  So, now that I'm not making anything, or haven't figured out what to do with myself while JG is napping, I'm watching far too much TV.

I'm losing my patience with it.

I am also losing my patience with reading.  It used to be that I could finish a book that I wasn't too crazy about, in hopes that it would improve at some point.  I wouldn't want to miss its redeeming qualities.  Now, if I read 30-70 pages and I'm just not into it, or say a kitten dies for no particular reason, I give up on finishing it.  You could say I'm either too tender hearted or entirely too slow of a reader.

I want every book to be the Hunger Games, fast paced, hard to put down, with characters I like.  So many books keep trying to make me swallow these exaggerated and irritating versions of human beings that I can't go along with the farce.

However, I should mention, that I don't even know if I would be able to read my favorite authors right now.  I'm not sure if I should blame it on the funk or if it's just how I am now that I have a baby.  Who knows.

So, today JG and I will venture out of the house (which we haven't been doing much of) and go look at fabric or something.  Fabric has so many redeeming qualities.

The sad thing is I have a stash of fabric I've been hoarding... and I cannot bring myself to actually use it.  It's a terrible compulsion.  I even have a bunch of it laying out in my craft room, I just love looking at it, but just thinking about using any of it brings on a slight anxiety attack.

Which is pathetic.  This is also the reason I try not to allow myself go look at fabric.  For example, I have several prints that I own multiple yards of (2-6 yards), and I can't think of why I spent the money on all of it if I can't bring myself to actually use it.

Booger.

Okay, I better find a reason to pull out of this mess.

I use far too many commas.  Lucky for me if you didn't notice.

2010

So far the year started off with a bang.

Alex and I went to bed at 9:30 Thursday night (seriously) but the dog was gracious enough to wake me at midnight so I could hear my neighbors celebrating with fireworks.  Even better, JG slept through the night in her very own crib and did not wake up until 8 AM the next morning, or if she did wake up earlier I don't know, because when I found her she was quietly playing in her crib.

Thanks be to Jesus.

However, she had to sleep with me last night, as she completely refused to be transferred to her crib.  You see, I nurse her to sleep in my bed and then move her to the crib before we go to bed.  This worked like a charm for months, however in the last month she has been more and more unwilling to sleep in her crib.

I should also mention that I am not good about letting her "cry it out."  It doesn't help that I don't believe in it, but I know that if I enforced the crib a bit better she would probably spend more time in it.  However, like Thursday night, she will sleep the whole night in the crib, so I think that she's been sleeping with us because she hasn't been feeling well.

Who knows.  Does anybody have any suggestions?

Anyway, 2010.  Goals.

--I need to figure out a way of getting out of the house without spending money.  Every time I leave the balance on my credit card increases, which is not good for a girl with no job and no income.  Hopefully the weather will start to improve and JG and I can think of something creative to do outdoors.

--I'm thinking of putting together a class on doll making.  I have no idea how that would work.  I've been pondering it for months.  Like, where would I start?  With the pattern?  Or have pieces sewn up and ready to stuff?  Or, let people design their own doll pattern with my help?

Also, I've been doing this for about six years, so does that make me knowledgeable enough to teach it?

--Find a teaching job for Fall 2010.

I think that's it... other than my obsession with how much cheese I will eat this next summer.  And ice cream, cake, doughnuts... anything I have not been able to eat for the last six months.  In five months JG will either be weaned or her protein-induced weirdness will have resolved itself.

Oh, sweet Jesus, thinking about cheese makes my mouth water.

And, happy new year to all you people.  Have a good one.

Just Curious...

So...

Tiger Woods is a cheater, which I honestly have to say I am not that surprised about.

Think about it, if you were the most popular man on earth, and you could have or do anything you wanted, what would you do?

Okay, maybe your answer is not to cheat on your hot model wife, but hey, everyone to their own taste.

The only thing I am surprised about, appalled really, is his taste in women (other than his hot model wife).  I mean, if you're going to go outside of your marriage for, whatever it was he went for, wouldn't you go for the other hot models?  Or other beautiful women?

Not the trashy, bleached her own hair, has face piercings, looks like a hooker but isn't?  I mean, at least a high paid escort will keep your secrets, and is probably ten-times more attractive than the dozen or so ladies he stepped out on his wife with.

Wait, not ladies... lady is a word reserved for a woman of high-class, who is thoughtful enough not to sleep with another woman's husband.  Tiger did not cheat on his wife with ladies, he cheated on his wife with what looks to me like... well, trash.

What an idiot.  Even worse though, an idiot with bad taste.

Mommy Blogger

Let me start by saying I never intended to be a "mommy blogger." However, looking back, it was bound to happen. I had a freakin' baby, after all.

I'm just hoping that I don't come across as the "look at my perfect life, my perfect baby, don't you just wish you were me?" kind of mommy blogger. Reading those kinds of blogs turn my stomach, especially because I don't believe in perfect.

Which makes what I'm about to say sound a bit hypocritical.

A while back we were given a gift certificate for the services of a professional photographer. Not only am I excited, I am nervous as hell. I've only had professional photos once, for my high school senior pictures, but I didn't end up with any of them (it's a dull story). Even my wedding photo's were taken by my brother-in-law (who did an excellent job and I love all of them, and I am convinced he took way better photo's than a professional would have).

I am hoping to end up with photographs that make me look good - because, honestly, I never like the way I look in pictures. I'm too pasty, my nose is too long, my smile looks like a midget just bit me in the ass.

Never in my life have I fretted so much about "outfits" and color and how I will appear. Looking through the pictures this professional takes... so many of the families exude the "look at how perfect we are" aura that I hate so much. And in the last week I found myself straining to be like that, trying to find the colors and outfits that would make us look different -- other.

Then it hit me tonight when Alex said, "We don't have to look more than we are, we just need to look like us."

And you know what? That smashing navy blue top I bought, that is beautiful and feminine and makes me look pretty curvy? That's not me. It's almost professional me (teacher me), but not me. And it doesn't look good with any of my jeans, which I plan on wearing for the pictures.

Plus we'll be outside (in Millcreek Canyon, because studios look and feel false and stodgy to me), and there's no way that top will keep me warm enough to make it worth it.

So I'm going to wear a green sweater my husband compared to something you'd find at the Army/Navy surplus. I like it, I'm comfortable in it, and it will show me for who I am. I will also probably wear my orange bowling shoes. Just for a flash of color.

And I'll take the fancy navy blue shirt back, Alex told me to keep it, but really, when am I going to have a reason to wear it? I've gotten into the habit of wiping JGR's spit-up away with my shirt, and as soon as I have on anything dark it's covered in cat hair. It's an animal owner's (read adoptive parent's) rule, "Thou shalt be covered in the fine hairs your animals produce."

Also, I think I'd rather not feel guilty about buying the lotion I want. So the shirt will be returned.

So the last thing I need to wrap up is what to have JGR wear. We're leaning toward farmer baby (overalls) with a sweater or something warm. Something that says, "I snuggle with a tarantula and a squid." (Hey, this kid has great taste in toys.)

Hopefully we'll get photographs that represent us, not some through-the-looking-glass representation of us.

Because perfect may be nice, but in no way is it fun.