I am definitely fried. Five weeks of exhaustion and headaches. Three weeks of a nagging, low-grade fever. Lingering effects of four days of intense vertigo. Doctors who don't take me seriously. A GYN appointment (even though it wasn't that bad, and everything is normal). A husband who is overcommitted and also fried. An energetic son who has two days off school this week when he desperately needs routine. Difficult conversations. Difficult memories. Early darkness. So what do I do? Here's what I'm trying:
Looking at Christmas catalogs--Brighton, Goldspot Pens, The Company Store, and whatever else comes in the mail.
Eating a shrimp, refried bean, Mozzarella, and guacamole burrito.
Tearing out cozy scenes and colorful penscapes for my art journal, when I get to it.
Drinking an iced peppermint mocha.
Drinking an extra Dr. Pepper.
Making tomato soup.
Making cheddar and sour cream mashed potatoes (the easy kind).
Lighting the Pumpkin Clove, Pumpkin Cinnamon Bun, Vanilla Pumpkin Marshmallow, and Vanilla Pumpkin Creme B&BW candles all in one day.
Lighting two Christmas trees (yes, I decorate after Halloween and until Valentine's Day if I feel like it!).
Letting Josh stroke me with a cold washcloth.
Changing the sheets (if I have the energy tonight).
Answering cheerful student E-mails.
Writing in my Italian leather bumblebee journal.
Reading Bella Grace articles.
Starting a list of ways to feel like a kid again.
Letting Josh take on more of the chores and driving tasks.
Eating room-temperature coffee cake.
Wearing velour star pants.
Showering with philosophy Sugar Plum Fairy gel.
Taking Cinnamon Sandalwood bubble baths.
Reading an easy, engaging book (Being Lolita).
Reading poems about fairies.
Organizing a pink binder with (for now) my 2023-2025 reading list, highlighter coded (green for what I need to buy, glitter pink for 40 before 40 goals, and glitter yellow for annual goals).
Adding to my Amazon wish lists: one for me, one for Josh, and one for Bruce.
Kissing for every goodbye.
Carefully filling our four pill boxes for the week (a Tuesday task).
Reading a juicy poem ("Girl Eats Her First Mango").
Reading literary analyses of the juicy poem.
Sending out class announcements letting everybody know what we're doing this week.
Reading student freewriting journal entries about all their trials and excitements.
Reading Toni Morrison essays in the dark while I put Oliver to bed.
Writing a blog post to remind myself of all the good little things in these days.
*Along with the groceries, Josh brought home four ballpoint pens--green, blue, pink, and purple--for me for no reason.
*We found our current love letter notebook and have begun writing in it again.
*Oliver's musical fish toy lulled him to sleep for half an hour.
*Oliver's feet, which are sometimes red and sometimes white.
*Josh has been working hard to let me nap or sleep in.
*Josh likes pushing Oliver's stroller and looks good doing it.
*Johnson's head-to-toe baby wash in tiny travel bottles.
*Green leafy Puff tissue boxes with hummingbirds.
*Eight packs of Puffs.
*Giving into that sleepy, warm, fluffy feeling, even if only for five minutes.
*Italian/Mexican wedding cookies.
*Finding out that my grandmother (who is largely a mystery to me) also loved those wedding cookies.
*Being cold at night and remembering that Josh already set up the electric blanket.
*Finding a fleece duck outfit for Oliver. It reminds me of the preemie duck outfit he wore (I'm keeping that one in my top dresser drawer).
*Green nail polish that's actually pretty.
*My hair finally being long enough to wear down without it covering my face.
*Rediscovering a great pair of earrings I'd forgotten.
*A husband who will untangle new necklaces.
*Wearing something new, clothing or accessory.
*Oliver's sleep smiles.
*Remembering that blogs don't have to be long and then finishing one.
*The scent of wood burning.
*Oliver's sapphire eyes in buttermilk skin.
*Oliver's sweet contentment when he has a bath.
*Josh calling Oliver Gorgeous.
*Seeing Oliver grasp a plastic ring or a toy.
*My mom's style.
*Anything sparkly anyone wears.
*Josh using the Doctor Who pocket watch I gave him for Christmas in 2010.
*Hearing Josh say, "Will you kick a monkey or slap a lion?" when he puts Oliver on his toy-dangling playmat.
*Remembering James's (my brother's) "puppy mat"--a red nap mat with Disney Dalmatians on it.
*Designer Disney princesses.
*Going to Barnes after a long time and seeing journals I've never seen.
*Buying a journal even though I have plenty waiting.
*Noticing a theme in gifts.
*Chocolate peanut butter cookies (Girl Scout-style, but cheap).
*Freezing a Dr. Pepper until just a little ice forms near the top.
*Oliver's ability to raise one eyebrow.
*Our impressive supply of size 2 diapers (we'll see if we use them all).
*Seeing Oliver get chubby and knowing that I put the chub there.
*The special moments when Oliver wants to play.
*Picking up a journal and reading something happy from it at random.
*The way Oliver smiles at the photo of me over Josh's nightstand.
*Josh's Facebook PDAs.
*Unpacking presents.
*Getting late presents that took forever to ship.
*Seeing Josh carry an empty laundry basket out of the bedroom.
*Having a stack of unread magazines and thinking that someday, I might read them in fast succession.
*Seeing a great movie, wishing it weren't over, and finding out that it's based on a book. Books give more!
*Hearing Josh speak fondly of a movie we've watched together.
*Seeing Josh's look of surprise when I compliment him.
*Listening to Josh read a story to Oliver and watching as Oliver listens quietly and gazes at the illustrations.
*Remembering to read while nursing.
*Oliver's yellow and blue star pajamas.
*Changing the background on my work E-mail from generic, medical blue to silvery green.
*The Bic "For Her" (weird) pens Josh got for me when he was grocery shopping. They're pink and purple and pearly white and have smooth colored ink, white swirly designs, and jewel clicky tops.
*Remembering "clicky tops and twisty bottoms" from Scrubs.
*Oliver grasping one of his colorful rings. *Oliver gazing at or touching his musical seahorse. I love that he's beginning to notice toys.
*Having more than enough milk in the fridge.
*Francesca Lia Block's new book, Pink Smog, especially since I pre-ordered it and forgot, so it just arrived like a surprise.
*The way Oliver spreads out his fingers when he sucks his thumb.
*Hearing Josh talking to Oliver over the monitor.
*The possibilities of so many books to read.
*Getting into the pace and habit of reading, so it flows.
*Baked cheddar and sour cream Ruffles.
*Josh putting tiny love notes in my lunchbox.
*The way Oliver now grasps his hands like he's thinking, praying, or hoping.
*$1 Mary Engelbreit stationery at Michaels. I have so many more cards than I'll ever use.
*Letters in colored envelopes.
*Picking up Panera on the weekends.
*Remembering I have half a Panera sandwich leftover.
*Opening a pack I haven't unpacked and seeing so many colorful bits I like and remember.
*The tiny, dark purple glass bottle on my desk.
*A catered box lunch with a sandwich, brownies, and tiny cups of fruit and pasta salad.
The Christmas spirit didn't envelop me this year. This wasn't the first such year, and I'm never sure why. Even as I felt a little flat, though, I knew that when I look back on this Christmas a few years from now, I won't remember that flat feeling. Similarly, when I look back on my Disney World honeymoon with Josh, I don't immediately think of the dizzying heat or the endless love bugs or the swollen insect bites on my ankle. I think of everything we saw and did. The same is true of Christmas, I think. In this way (as well as in many others), I think that what we do matters more than what we feel, especially in those small pockets of time.
Josh built our first fire in our new home (which I will write about). We built it before Oliver went to bed so that he could watch the bright dance. Josh played the three bell chimes of the first song on Aaron Neville's Christmas album. When Oliver went to bed, we spread a snowflake blanket by the hearth and lay down together, just watching the fire and remembering how we used to fall asleep that way in our apartment in Charlotte.
Josh hung our silver beaded and rhinestoned stockings from the mantle. While I was at Target, I'd picked up a small green knit stocking for Oliver. We put it between our two silver stockings. It looks quite precious and little. I set up our funny little tree on the counter. It's fiber optic--no lights or ornaments to tempt the cats. Josh set a few of his childhood nutcrackers on the mantle. His parents used to buy him one every year.
My mom and Shane came to visit and help us unpack after Thanksgiving. Mom and I went out to Barnes and Noble, and I had a Peppermint Mocha Frap. I also bought a beautifully illustrated Gift of the Magi, which I'd wanted when I worked at a bookstore the Christmas before last. We haven't read it together yet, but we will.
At Old Navy, I bought a gray and black sweater with rows of silver sequins to wear on Christmas Eve. At Target, I went ahead and picked up the pretty hot pink pajama pants with black snowflakes, even though I didn't need more pajamas. I found a first Christmas fleece outfit for Oliver--white with a little ice skating creature and the same creature on the feet...I think they're puppies, Josh thinks they're reindeer, and Josh's mom thinks they're bears. Oliver wore it several times, but we found it was too small (like all his newborn clothes) just a few days before Christmas.
I painted my nails metallic fir tree green and wore purple sparkle on my eyes often. I never did play my favorite Jingle Cats video, but I can still do that. In little ways, I invited the spirit, and I think those memories will be blessed.
*Waking up from a nap to find Davis's (cat) head on my head and his arm (leg?) around me.
*Oliver doing acrobatic performances when both Josh and I put our hands on my belly. Attention from both parents at once is apparently pretty exciting.
*Baby ripples, rumbles, turns, flutters, jabs, jerks, and leaps.
*My polka dot robe I got for free from Ulta when I ordered perfume for Mom.
*All the wonderful associations with the unremarkable scent of birthday candles.
*My plum wool Loft coat (Christmas present from Josh).
*Josh bringing home a mint chocolate chip milkshake, watching me make a mess of it, and saying, "Forget Paris Hilton and a Hardees burger. I want a pregnant girl with a milkshake."
*How satisfying and non-nauseating milk chocolate chip milkshakes are.
*My white wicker laundry hamper, cat-destroyed though it is.
*Josh working on our Ancestry.com trees and saying, "So far, it looks like our families have not intersected at all in history, which means we're pretty much not related." Rock on.
*The white wicker wardrobe Mom is giving me...the key to our negligible closet space survival!
*Josh: "In this game, once a characters' loyalty to me reaches a certain point, they start wearing new costumes."
Me: "Once my loyalty to you reached a certain point, I started wearing maternity clothes."
*The way my long necklaces now curve out instead of going straight down.
*Receiving journals as gifts. It doesn't even matter if I already have the journal. It feels like the person is not only doing something nice for me but also supporting what I love to do.
*The moment when the ice chunk in a frozen water bottle finally slips through the top.
*A photo (of which I don't actually have a copy) of my mother's mother drinking a Dr. Pepper and smoking a cigarette. I fully support one of those vices.
*Cinnamon candles.
*The beautiful, frivolous maternity tank top I've wanted for three months going on sufficient sale.
*Picking Melissa's brain about pregnancy and baby advice and experiences (usually, I go first, so it's nice to be the grasshopper this time).
*Red Hots.
*Knowing we have lots of help for our move (thanks Dad, James, Zach, and the future Grammy and Grampy!), especially since I'll be essentially worthless.
*Knowing that I can focus on tasks like setting up the bathroom, making the bed, and moving and arranging clothes during the move.
*The lovely fact that Time Warner Cable can actually come transfer our Internet the day of our move. No temporary dark age!
*Planet Hollywood. I still think it's cool. I've gone with Josh, Keely (my best friend from childhood), and my grandparents and surely some other super cool people. I've been there in Paris and Honolulu.
*My awesome black and silver New Balance shoes that aren't chunky like most trainers (am I allowed to use that word? I like it so much better than tennis shoes or sneakers) and don't have those vents that equal soaked socks in the rain.
*Learning British terms (usually through moments of confusion while watching Dr. Who).
*My mom's pink mixing bowls.
*Josh saying absurd, lovey things like "If you were any prettier, I would turn into a unicorn. I'd have wings and a tail." I guess this would technically make him a Pegasus.
Silly little joys are the most important because they come most frequently. But we have to make sure we notice them. Here are some current ones of mine.
*Shredded Parmesan. Somehow, it seems much fancier and more flavorful than the pulverized stuff even though it comes out of an identical can.
*My suede-like, sage green body pillow from Costco. I think it was ten dollars. My mom bought a violet one at the same time. Josh and I normally use it as a sort of headboard/backrest, but I've been using it at night to help me navigate the newly weird world of sleep with my newly lumpy body.
*Hearing my smallest cat, Corvette, snoring under the bed. Apparently, cats only snore when they are perfectly comfortable and secure.
*My two new nightgowns from Wal-mart. Since pajama pants are getting impractical if not painful and I didn't want to actually buy maternity sleepwear, I needed something loose, sleeveless, and long enough to be decent if case we have or are company. At $9, these are just right, very soft, and somehow not Wal-marty.
*Thinking about cupcakes. I don't so much want to eat them, but I love looking at them and thinking about them. Aren't they adorable? I really need some of those cupcake books just to sit out in different places and absorb. For my birthday, I asked Josh for some cupcake wall stickers to brighten up our upcoming and somewhat depressing kitchen. Forget a bun in the oven--I'm baking a cupcake. (Image: http://www.tumblr.com/reblog/6254986884/dBhoG0yJ)
*My snack. Some would frown on me, but after cutting out caffeine completely for basically the first half of my pregnancy, I said, "Love, all your organs are formed. Mama needs a Dr. Pepper." Now, he and I have an afternoon ritual of a Dr. Pepper and a Nutty Bar. The peanut butter keeps me full until dinner, and I love imagining Oliver fish-mouthing to get all that chocolate-flavored amniotic fluid. Isn't it amazing that babies-in-the-making can taste? The caffeine actually seems to soothe rather than hype him. Maybe that's because the snack makes me so blissful, and he benefits from that.
*Lemon drops. These have been a staple lately. They seem to settle my stomach, and they have no heavy candy feeling. I've gotten through planning, grading, and meetings with them. A lot of people probably think I have some kind of abscess or jaw issue on the right side, but I'm okay with that.
*The art deco Seattle postcard on the wall above Josh's nightstand. My aunt sent this. Josh adores art deco. I'm more of an art nouveau girl (this really probably says a lot about our personalities--What Art Movement Are You? With Pictures!), but this postcard with its deep blues and gold glow is enchanting.
*Our green bead candle chandelier. This is what we call it; it probably has a real name. We've hung it in every Love Palace (MLP and WLP: over the couch. CLP1: over the bistro table. BLP and CLP: in a corner of the bedroom). Our dear poet and teacher friend gave it to us as a wedding present. It seems to symbolize her hope for us.
*Snooping on the baby registry. 4 items are now checked off. Not knowing who bought what is fun. And I'm so excited because now, we'll be able to legally take Oliver home from the hospital in our car.
*Finding a bookmark in a used book. I seem to have no bookmarks--where did they all go? But I found a panda one in a very unpolitical book I bought at a political bookstore in Chapel Hill. This has happened a few times. It's like finding money in an old purse. (Image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksugardesserts/4304886048/)
*Finding inscriptions in used books. Two of the used books I've read lately have had touching inscriptions. It's a little sad--how could someone get rid of a book with an inscription? But I also feel privileged and kind of pretend the inscription is for me by extension. Of course, it's even more amazing if it's an antique book.
*This sort of living vibration I often feel even when Oliver isn't kicking or squirming. Maybe he's practicing breathing. Or maybe I'm feeling his dreams or just his awareness somehow.
*My cat Davis or my mom's bunnies (yes, she has two little ones) staring at or carefully touching my belly. Animals totally know what's going on.
*My Tinkerbell necklace. It's big and covered with rhinestones. Josh bought it for me at a sad time, and it was as if he gave me a sparkly little anchor to hold me to who I am.
*Bees. Not real bees but cute, chubby, completely unrealistic bees. During my first pregnancy, I started singing to Josh "I'm Bringing Home a Baby Bumblebee." Since then, bees have sometimes been a little sad but have always symbolized our hope for a baby. (Image: http://fudgeyeahprettythings.tumblr.com/page/3)
*Anything that smells good in the shower. Somehow, I always forget the smell of my shampoo and shaving cream, so it's a wonderful surprise every time.
*Anne Shirley. Just knowing this character exists in literature is a great comfort to me. Actually, when she experienced a loss similar to mine in Anne's House of Dreams, I cried for her and then gained more peace from the way she handled her grief (and later, her joy) than from anything anyone could have said to me. I've wanted to be like her since I was a very little girl. She's brilliant, imaginative, ambitious, and kind...but also fierce, sullen, bitter, and brutally honest sometimes. As I read through her series, I feel like I'm reading through the phrases of my own life. I didn't begin to read about her teaching and family experiences until recently.
*A pair of deep violet-dyed toe shoes I saw at an antiques shop in Waxhaw. I didn't buy them, but I like thinking about them.
