Super Evil Bitch Lady May 29, 2008

I work as the billing person for a local chiropractor (the BEST CHIROPRACTOR EVER!). In addition to submitting insurance claims and billing people for their visits to the office, I also greet people as they enter the building.

Now, overall, I’m a nice person. That’s not to say that I don’t have a bit of snark running through my veins. I make crude jokes when amongst friends and sometimes, after a long day (or a day without chocolate), I can be a bit bitchy. But again, overall, I’m nice. And honestly, when I’m at work, I’m super fucking nice to all of the patients the good doctor adjusts.

Yesterday my coworker informed me that Super Evil Bitch Lady had scheduled an appointment for that afternoon. This woman is just vile. Wait. I should qualify that statement. Super Evil Bitch Lady is vile to people working the front desk of the office I work in. My friend and I are treated with the utmost content when this woman graces us with her presence. “Hi! Good afternoon” is greeted with a scowl and a snotty comment about the afternoon not being nice at all. A detailed answer to a question she asks is met with, “I didn’t ask for your life story, a yes or no will do.” When I tell her how much her office visit costs (which I do for every. other. patient. each time they come in), I get a disdainful, “Yes. I know, ” and an eyeroll to boot. She. Is. A. Bitch.

… that is, of course, until she gets on the adjusting table. She’s sweet as sugar to the good doc. She smiles and laughs and engages in pleasant conversation. For my coworker and myself, she won’t utter a civil “hello,” but to the doctor, well, lets just say I don’t think Super Evil Bitch Lady would have a problem with listening to her life story.

So really, what is it? Is it because I hold a lowly secretary-type position in the office? Is she bitter because I’m young and happy with life? Is she just a nasty, vile, Super Evil Bitch Lady? Yeah… I think the last one about sums it up.

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Twelve-Month Letter May 22, 2008

Dear Baboo,

Today you turned one year old. I can’t believe how fast the past twelve months have flown by. I could swear that just yesterday I was able to hold you in one arm; that it was only last week when you learned to roll over, sit up, and stand. Was it really much longer than a month ago that you started crawling? Where did all the time go? How did your growing up sneak up on me?

This past month has been a joyful month for you, Papa, and me. You’ve become so very vocal. You talk and sing to us nearly non-stop during the day. Just in the last three days or so Papa and I have started signing to you, and you’ve already gotten the hang of signing “milk” back to us. Tonight I witnessed you take about eight steps on your own.  I don’t think it will be long until you’re full-on walking.

A couple of weekends ago we went to Philly to see you Aunt Lauren, who was visiting from Maine. It was the first time she got to see you since you were born, and she was so excited to spend some time with you. Aunt Lauren gifted you a fantastic zippy that says “Maine” on it. It fits you great, and I’m sure you’re going to spend the vast majority of next fall and winter in it. During our visit with Aunt Lauren, we all went to the Adventure Aquarium in New Jersey. We saw tons of fish, penguins, seals, and turtles. (And tons of other animals… too many to name!) You really seemed to enjoy watching the fish swim all around. More than once you put your hands out to the glass tanks and tired to touch the fish! I’m sorry you couldn’t get to them, but it was sweet watching you try.

For your birthday, we celebrated with friends and family at South Ab’s park. Papa went to the park early to stake our claim on the picnic benches under the pavilion. Papa (with some help from Aunt Michelle and DJ) decorated the tables and pavilion with streamers and balloons… it looked really beautiful. I baked you a banana cake because you love, love, love bananas! You spent the afternoon playing on the grass and being adorable. Everyone was excited to celebrate with you.

Early this morning, Papa and I took you to Pop Pop’s Workshop to pick out your birthday present. You came home with a little wooden car and a little wooden truck. Papa and I had been looking forward to taking you there for some time. I hope those little wooden vehicles will entertain you for many hours to come!

You had a fever a few days ago, but Papa and i attributed it to teething. Dr. Jennifer checked your ears, and they were all clear, and you didn’t seem sick otherwise, so neither Papa nor I worried too much about it. Today you have a bit of a rash, and that has me a little worried since we haven’t changed our laundry detergent or anything of that sort. I’m hoping to get a better look at it tomorrow, and hoping even more that it will be gone away by the time I go to check it out. On the upside, you don’t seem bothered by it, so I guess I’m probably worried over nothing.

I know I’ve said it before, but you bring your Papa and I such joy. I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m so grateful for this past year, and I’m excited about the years to come.

Happy Birthday, sweet one.

Love,
mama *=

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May 13, 2008

Here’s the email I sent to my good friend, thenakedredhead.

Red,
I miss our long email conversations. I think I’ve said that before.

Just because I know you’ll understand and empathize a bit, I really need to bitch about my family.

I just hate the lot of them (minus my grandpa… he’s wonderful).

My mother still makes passive aggressive comments about how I won’t come to her house. Listen lady, you smoke; your husband smokes; your house reeks of smoke. I am not brining my baby into that. Am. Not. I think it’s sad that she’s more concerned with us not being there for “special” dinners than she is about her grandson’s health. There’s a major disconnect. Smoking and second-hand smoke cause cancer, increase the risk of SIDS in children, can bring on a host of breathing problems… for other people, that is. For her, none of that is true. I’m just a stuck up bitch who doesn’t want to expose her child to GERMS. Germs! She actually thinks that I’m not bringing the baby there b/c there are germs in her house.

My father is still dating the 24-year-old whore of the valley. I’m waiting to see if he asks (read: tells me) he’s brining her to the baby’s birthday party on Saturday. She is not welcome. He’s not going to be happy. But anyway… how freaking dysfunctional is that? He is nearly 50 years old. He’s dating this broken girl and playing daddy to her. And somehow, no one sees this as being unhealthy and inappropriate. My sister thinks it’s “crummy” that I don’t want her at Baboo’s party. Speaking of..

I still just hate my sister. Even after trying to work things out with her, she is still the same. Nothing is her fault… what she says is best… I’m still a fuck-up for raising my son as I see fit. Breastfeeding is gross, foreskins are gross, only dumb people don’t vaccinate their children, blah, blah, blah. I can’t stand her. I get no joy out of her being in my life. I don’t think Baboo gains anything much either. Why do I even try?

My cousin and her family (husband and two little girls) aren’t coming to Baboo’s birthday party b/c her husband’s brother is in from Texas and his mother is having a birthday party for him. This guy has to be in his 40s at least, and I know he’s coming in from out of town, but my son’s party is from 1-3 in the afternoon. She can’t spare an hour for the kid’s first birthday? My aunt (my dad’s sister) also isn’t coming b/c “she has people coming in that day and doesn’t know what time they’re leaving. Plus, to commit to something that might not even happen wouldn’t be fair to anyone.” Huh? Yeah… apparently because the party is at a park and I said that if there are torrential downpours I would cancel or move the party to my house it means that it “might not even happen.” The truth is, I’ll be happier that the lot of them aren’t there, but I think the excuses are lame. L.A.M.E. This is the same group of people who bitch because I didn’t spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with them. Christ… they wonder why? Why in the world would I want to spend time with people who don’t act like my family rates at all?

And Red, I know you’re disgruntled with the modern-day church, but I have to say… I love my church community. I mean, yeah, there’s some dysfunction, but the majority of it is, “Oh, so-and-so brought white wine… I really wanted red wine with dinner.” I can deal with having the wrong color wine at dinner. The family stuff makes me want to move far, far away.

On that note… have I mentioned that the husband applied for a job in San Diego? He has a phone interview on the 25th (though he’s considering flying out there… he wants it that badly). There’s a good chance we’ll be moving. If that happens, I’ll get to leave all this family shit behind. Woo hoo for that.

Hope your day is going better than mine.

Love,
me

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Eleven-Month Letter April 29, 2008

Dear Baboo,

Oh my word. You turned eleven months old on the 21st, and that means you’re only one month away from turning one YEAR old. Wow. Just wow.

You’ve spend the past month refining your waving and shaking techniques. You now wave “hi” but haven’t figured out “bye” yet. After many a walk outside with your egg shaker in hand, you’ve learned to “shake, shake, shake” whenever instructed to. It’s really adorable… Papa did a great job picking out your first musical instrument.

We recently spent week in Illinois. You traveled *amazingly* well. You spent most of your first plane ride nursing and sleeping, but during your awake times, you made friends with everyone on the plane. The train ride from Naperville to Galesburg was a teeny tiny bit tougher. It took you a while to settle in, but when you finally did, you slept for most of the remainder of the ride. The first few days of our vacation we visited your grandma and grandpa, and the last few days we spent in Chicago while Papa attended a conference for his web design job. Everyone was super excited to get to spend some time with you… Grandma and Grandpa; Great Aunt Lois, Great Uncle Don, Andy, and Amy; Aunt Erin and Uncle Grant; Uncle Richie; and Aunt Kenzie. They all wish they could see you more often.

You, Papa, and I were lucky enough to get to see the Cubs play at Wrigley Field during our trip! Uncle Richie met us there, and so did Papa’s friend Kierstin. You really made out that day; not only did your papa and I buy you a Cubs hat and two Cubs onesies, but your Uncle Richie also bought you a Cubs hat for when you get a little older/your head gets a bit bigger!

It was super fun walking around Chicago with you tucked firmly inside the Ergo carrier. Everyone smiled at you and many had kind words to say.

Sadly, during our travels you picked up one nasty cold. You had a low-grade fever for two days or so, and you still have a runny nose and a hacking cough. None of this is slowing you down, but it makes Mama and Papa sad to hear you cough.

While on our trip, you got to experience grass for the first time. At first, you wouldn’t even touch the grass! You cried every time either your papa or I tried to put you down to crawl on it. Eventually you decided that grass wasn’t so bad, and your second time out (at our friend Marty’s house), you were crawling around with the best of them.

You seem desperate to walk these days. I’m sure you’ll master that skill soon enough. I can’t believe that not too long ago you couldn’t even roll over. It amazes me how quickly you’re learning new things.

In a few short weeks you’ll be one year old. I’m amazed at how quickly this past year has gone by. You are the best thing to have ever happened to me, Baboo. You are all the best parts of your papa and I combined (and you’re super cute, to boot). You’re happy and sweet and smart and expressive and just plain old wonderful. I can’t imagine life without you.

I love you, sweet one.

Love,
Mama

Ten-Month Letter April 1, 2008

Dear Baboo,

The past few weeks have been big for you. You’ve nearly mastered standing on your own, and you’ve learned to pivot a bit while you stand. Though you don’t wave “hello” or “goodbye” with much consistency yet, you’re getting the hang of it and always look very proud of yourself when you accomplish the task. On our walk the other day, Papa and I discovered that you really enjoy shaking things that produce a neat sound. Little do you know, today Papa is taking you shopping for a real egg shaker! What a lucky boy you are.

I remember when you were first born. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand how your skin and your breath smelled so wonderfully sweet all the time. This past week I was reminded of both and started worrying about how soon both those lovely smells would be gone. I love when you’re asleep with your mouth agape. During those times, I love to get really close to you and breathe in your breath as you breathe out. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled such a sweet smell as your milky breath. I love it when you fall asleep on my chest… it puts you in the perfect position for me to smell your head. I don’t know what I’ll do when those smells are gone.

Over the past week or two, you’ve started half waking up at night. Sometimes you’ll sit yourself straight up and then collapse into a child’s pose. Last night you did this and followed it up by rolling your back towards me and draping yourself over my side. It made me laugh, and when I looked at you, I realized you had fallen asleep during the transition, and I laughed again. You bring me such joy!

The weather has started to turn, and you and Papa and I have gotten in a few good walks. Just last week we went to Nay Aug Park and saw some of the animals they have in the wildlife center. You were especially amused by the monkey-type animals. Mama really liked the binturon.

I can’t believe that in (less than… eep!) two months you’ll be a year old. I have loved watching you grow, but a part of me wishes you would stay little forever. I have a hard time imagining what life will be like when you no longer need to be carried or worn… when you don’t need me to console you when you fall down… when you don’t need me to fall asleep… I know there are lots of fun times ahead, but as we approach your first birthday, well, I can’t help but get a bit weepy.

I love you, Sweet Baboo.

Love,
Mama

March 21, 2008

I had a very pleasant day today.

Grumpy, Baboo and I started out our day at the local Jewish deli for breakfast. Today is the Jewish holiday of Purim, and my husband and I got to overhear the owner of the deli telling one of his patrons who had never heard of Purim that it was a celebratory holiday… like St. Patrick’s Day. Funny stuff.

After breakfast, the yogamommy family went out for a cup of coffee (okay,  two out of three of us had coffee.. the other one dined on milk). After finishing my cuppa, I left the husband to do some work and took the child home for a nap.

Tonight we dined with some of our best friends and celebrated (?) Maundy Thursday. We had great conversation and great food and finished the night with a lovely prayer service. After service the kids (not Baboo) started making a stained glass window out of tissue paper. We had to leave before it was finished because my sweet one was melting down, but I’m really looking forward to seeing the finished project at our Easter Vigil service on Saturday.

Tomorrow I have to try and clean, and on Saturday I *definitely* need to clean. The husband, baby, and I are hosting Easter dinner on Sunday, so I need to get the house in order. Plus, I need to cook.

Peace, peace, peace
yogamommy

Update March 14, 2008

This is the letter I sent to one of my good friends, the naked redhead. It’s an update to the ‘nursing at church’ post I wrote about a month and a half ago.

Dear Red,

So, I don’t know if I told you the (semi) latest.

About a month and a half ago, I was confronted by the Presbyterian Church’s resident pot stirrer/backstabber/gossiper. She said that some parents were upset by the fact that I breastfeed Baboo in front of the youth group kids. At first she was like “watch out.” I asked her what I was supposed to be watching out for. I told her that anyone who had an issue could speak to me directly but that I wasn’t going to change the way I feed my baby. (Did I mention that this was just a month and a half ago? Baboo was 8 MONTHS OLD. This wasn’t a new thing. I had been nursing him the entire 8 months before with no fanfare. Meh.)

Later in our conversation, she changed her tune from “watch out” to a “you go, girl!” type of attitude. It was weird.

Turns out, she was the one who had the problem with me nursing in front of the kids.

Want to hear the best part? She’s a nursing mom herself! She has a 7-month-old she’s breastfeeding now and 4 older kids she breastfeed (most of them until around 2 years of age).

So, the pastor at the church talked to the husband about it. He was (the pastor) pretty supportive of me, but at one point asked Grumpy if we could compromise. You know.. have me go into another room while I fed Baboo. I’m not sure what hubby said… maybe that he would talk to me about it. When he did talk to me about it, I told him I would gladly go into another room to feed Baboo, as long as the youth group kids were all separated from one another as well. Didn’t you hear? It’s obscene to eat in front of other people nowadays. Needless to say, I didn’t change the way I fed Baboo. (As an aside, hubby supports me completely. I don’t think I got that point across in this paragraph.)

So, two nights ago was the church’s Session meeting (governing board for the church). The one guy (maybe in his 60s…) who had been recruited to check out the situation and do some investigating into the “breastfeeding issue” brought up the fact that some parents were upset by the fact that I feed Baboo in front of the kids. Apparently there was silence when he stopped speaking. Then a few older gentlemen spoke up (in their 80s, or so I’ve been told) saying that they didn’t think it was appropriate. Silence.

Then, one of the mom of two of hubby’s youth group girls opened a can of whoop ass. I mean, just cracked that sucker open. She pretty much said all of the things that I had been saying to Grumpy whenever we discussed it… It’s natural, it’s best for baby, there’s nothing shameful or obscene about it. Then she states, “I know the mother who has been complaining about this. She’s a nursing mother herself! And she might make a big deal of pulling out her designer cover when she feeds her kid, but that hasn’t always been the case… and she didn’t use one at all when she was younger.”

Then the session moved to tell my husband that the issue had been laid to rest and that neither he nor I needed to worry about anything.

/update

~yogamommy

Nine (and a half)-Month Letter March 12, 2008

Dear Baboo,

You’re about nine and a half months old today, and as I sit here, watching you play (with one of the many horrible loud plastic toys you’ve been gifted *smile*), I am again amazed by you.

You can stand unassisted for a few second now. You cruise along furniture (or whatever is handy) and can climb up on small boxes if given the chance. You cut two new teeth last week… the second one coming about three days after the first. This time around, you were quite a bit cranky while you worked to get those teeth to break through. You amaze me (and others) by how content you are. You’ve started letting me use the bathroom on my own with little fanfare, and for that I’m grateful.

I think you’ve finally said your first official word. Though you’ve been making “mama” sounds for quite a while now, I don’t think you’re really connecting the word “mama” with the person mama (me). However, each morning you wake up, sit yourself up, and proclaim “cat” (or there abouts) while smiling at and reaching for the nearest feline. You *are* your mother’s son.

I’m looking forward to spring time and the nice weather that accompanies it.  I can’t wait to take long walks with  you and your Papa, and I can’t wait to take you to one of the local parks to play.

I love you, sweet one.

Love,
Mama

March 11, 2008

The past month or so has been super hectic. There’s a lot of change happening in my life right now. Most of it is good, I’m happy to say.

Hubby and I *finally* got our house on the market. It took four months of wasting time, but after much cleaning, it’s listed. On March 16th we have an Open House scheduled. I’m really hoping we get a few offers (heck, just one good one would do).

I got a promotion/new job at work. The billing person in our office has given her notice because she needs to go back to work full time (the office I work at is only open MWF). I really didn’t expect it, but my boss offered me the billing job. I’m really excited about it. There’s a lot I need to learn, but I think I’ll be able to pick it up quickly. The increased salary is incentive enough.

On the down side of things, I’ve had to put my yoga classes on hold for a bit. Once the house gets sold, I’ll get back in the swing of things, but for now, all available cash must go towards necessities. I’m still practicing a little bit when time permits (and Baboo allows me), but I’ll be very excited when I get to start going to class again.

Baboo is doing really, really well. I’m going to post a 9 (and a half) month letter to him later today or tomorrow, so look for that update. (Again, does anyone read this thing?)

Peace, peace, peace
yogamommy

Not Very Zen-Like Today February 1, 2008

Maybe it’s because I’ve missed two yoga classes in a row, but I feel all out of sorts, and I’m quite on edge today. Maybe some centering would have helped me deal with the B.S. that was thrown at me today.

My husband works for two churches. At one church, people (maybe just one person?) have been complaining about me nursing Baboo in front of the congregation’s youth population. *sigh* Isn’t that sad? There’s nothing more natural, beautiful, loving as a mother nursing her child, but people have hang-ups. Boobs are sexual. They’re dirty and they should remain hidden at all times. Except for when they’re being used as a marketing tool for beer and car companies. Then boobs are fine… the bigger and more visible, the better. To paraphrase what a wise woman once told me… No, *these* tits are not for Hollywood.

So my options are as follows… I could avoid the weekly gatherings my husband leads. I could go to the gatherings and move to another room whenever Baboo needs to eat. I can not feed Baboo when he gets hungry and let him scream until I get my point across (nursing baby=happy baby), or I can go about business as usual and see if the church has the audacity to fire my husband because his wife dared to follow in the footstep of the Virgin Mary and nurse her son. Anyone have an opinion? Does anyone read this thing?

This issue weighs on my heart. Going to a different room to breastfeed my child makes it seem as though breastfeeding is something that should be hidden… something that is shameful. It is not. It is natural and beautiful, and it is a baby’s right. The more it is done out in the open, the more normal it will become in society (where sadly, formula feeding is the current norm). I’m going to keep doing what I do. Maybe one day one of those girls who has watched me feed my son will choose to breastfeed her children or one of the boys will support his wife when she chooses to breastfeed. Maybe my son and I will make a difference.

All of that unpleasantness melts away when I look at my Sweet Baboo. Right now he’s standing in his crib, chewing on the railing. He’s smiling big smiles as he makes sweet sounds to make sure he has my attention.