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You can totally follow me on Twitter if you have a Twitter account. Not sure how many people actually have one. But here I am.
>>photo by Valerie Dryden.
I have mentioned this before, but the girls love trees. They love to say, "Hello, tree. How you doing?" They love to go outside and hug their tree friends. This makes me happy. The girls also like to argue about Barack Obama vs. Hillary Clinton. This makes me laugh. It usually ends with one calling Hillary Clinton a butt hole. This makes me laugh even harder. I am glad that I have kids who can appreciate the beauty of nature as well as the complex political landscape of our country.
I think that Barack Obama likely enjoys trees more than Hillary Clinton. Gonna go ask the girls what they think.
I tried to avoid the zombie Easter/spring card, but Zombie Guy Eric talked me into it. And I have to say this one was the most fun to design:
The Crap Bunny is made by and provided by my friend Spidercamp. Isn't he rad?
The cards come in packs of 5, 10 or just one alone. You can get them at my Etsy shop.
I also made some felt easter basket buddies, which are completely useless, but cute:
Easter is early this year, so order soon!
I have begun to nightmare again after many many years of no nightmare activity at all. This explains my lack of blogging somewhat. I find that when I am in this mode in life, I am more tired than usual and things like writing down my feelings become more and more difficult.
At the end of the 90's, when I decided to change my life and become this current me, I was plagued with nightmares. I lived in the horrible suburbs and drove a car everywhere and weighed over 300 pounds. My dreams were filled with me driving over a cliff or spinning out of control or just falling and falling and falling. It was terrible. So I did something.
When I started losing weight and making art, my dreams changed. I dreamt of old friends and new possibilities. I saw things that would be become my new life. A life of friends who make things and shows were we sell these things at. It is pretty amazing how accurate they are now that I go back and read the old blog entries from those days. These days were rad, imagining a new future for myself. No more falling. A blog entry from November 4, 2004. The description of the museum reminds me of Crafty Bastards:
I love dreaming. I love the nonsense of it. Last night, I ran into an old friend in an art museum that was filled like a thrift store, all jumbled in piles. The art was my own and my friends' and then other things like smiles and regular things like shoes. Anyway, the old friend was Andy Smrz. Where are you Andy Smrz? Andy was talking nonstop because we hadn't seen each other in years and years and I was trying to keep up with him and the art at the same time. Then I told him the story of the time in college when we used to drive to school together, which I think was only a very short time. And one time he got the flu and I had to take care of him, which I am not even sure is true in the real world. Then Andy tried to record everything I was saying on this big platter of cotton candy. But the sound kept falling off because cotton candy isn't very sturdy. If you are reading this and know Andy Smrz, tell him I am dreaming of him and cotton candy.
When I was pregnant, I would dream and dream, but never nightmare. I was growing babies and this was magical and my dreams were filled of future scenes of the strange creatures inside of me, of their soft baby heads and waiting in line for school and falling in love with tattooed boys. I was living their lives in my sleep and this was tremendous and some of the best sleep times of my life.
Then I didn't dream at all for two years. I never slept for long enough to dream, up feeding babies or with sick kids or just working. If you don't sleep for more than 3 hours at a time, it is hard to have a dream life.
But recently, I have been finding myself giving in and going to bed before midnight, even though my work isn't done or the house is a mess or I haven't been to the gym in weeks. I just give in and go to sleep and then the nightmares begin. In one recent dream, Jeff and I just drive into the ocean. I tell him we should get out of the car, that we can just walk away from it, but he wants to save the car and then we are under the water. In another, I am trying to save the girls from crazy men with big eyes who are really creepy. In another, Rachel falls down a tunnel at the Metro and strangers in white coats have to save her. And there are the driving off the cliff dreams from before. An old foe they are.
I am not writing this so you will worry about me. I am writing this so that I can figure out how to make it stop. I truly believe that for some people dreams are a good indication of what is really going on in their life. In my life, I press on. Every day. On and on and on. Like the dream when Jeff and I drive into the ocean. I try to save the damn car, and drown, when I should just let it drift away and remember that living is more important. My dreams are telling me that my stress levels are becoming toxic. That I need to take a step back. That I do too much and not enough. That I am not balanced. That I need to find this balance.
I look forward to making these nightmares go away and thus making my waking life easier. I don't know how I will do this, but at least I am writing it down now. This is the first step. Perhaps I will blog the nightmares away.
>>>photo by Valerie Dryden<<<
If you just read my blog, you would think the only thing I have been doing is podcasting about television. Not true!
These past two months I have packed up and sent out an amazing amount of orders (maybe nearly 400!), helped put on a successful holiday show with the Craft Mutiny, started potty training my girls, spent a fun night in the emergency room to learn that Anya has a peanut allergy and last but not least, gained 10 pounds. Yep. 10 pounds. And I have to say that it is heavy. I can feel it everywhere, even in my fingers as I type. I am glad that this time is over. I am looking forward to my 30 points a day and going to the gym every night instead of packing up 12 orders a day. I am looking forward to spending the next few months concentrating on myself rather than others. I totally need this and am going to take it. I am accepting this as my own fault, of course, embracing it. It is the only way to walk past it and beat it and continue to smallen.
I will say, though, that on Xmas morning, I did think of all of the people opening presents that I made. I also often thought about the nearly 2500 people who would get zombie cards this holiday season. This is really rad. This makes me want to make and make and make. I have all of these new ideas swirling around in my head and can't wait to see them come to life. I just want to leave the stress and cookies of the holiday season behind!
This holiday season taught me that I need to be prepared. I need to not get stressed when I can't handle things. Because stress for me equals eating which equals staying fat. Poop on that!!!
Something else we have been doing in the past few months has been getting our picture taken. Lots. Valerie Dryden, a student at the Corcoran School of Art has been taking our picture for her senior thesis since August or so. She has taken over 800 or so photos. I am going to start posting some of them. The one on top of this post is the first. Moments after this was taken, Rachel had an asthma attack and I had to literally run her home to get give her meds (no inhaler yet for someone so small). This photo is totally what my life is like, one minute we are sliding and sunny, the next, racing home with an asthma attack. I am looking forward to this new year being more calm. Will it happen? Unlikely, but I am wishing.
DCblogs.com today posted my blog post: in heaven without a Nintendo DS (below) and then Jeff's follow-up: Hope and the New Atheism, at Restaurant Fuel.
This is kinda cool. I am not sure if Jeff even read my post. Perhaps I read it to him. Thanks to DCblogs.com, though for posting them.
I am thinking of ghosts again today. And the beauty of the idea that we all stay here when our bodies die. It makes religion and heaven seem sad in way. Like I don't want to go and sit at the throne of god or whoever when I could float around my own house, amongst my own things for the rest of my energy span. I love my things. The art on the wall. My daughters' shoes. The mess of packing peanuts on the bedroom floor.
I thought of this yesterday, too, as Jeff and I did our Xmas shopping. We were lucky to be without the girls while we did it, so we could get things for them without sneaking them into the cart. I kept looking all around at people, wondering how long they would get to have these things they were buying. And will they miss them when they are gone. And how boring it would be in heaven without their Nintendo DS.
The older I get and the more I love the world and life, the less I believe in god. It just seems worthless to think that there is something better than here. Here is so great. The cold air on my face, the way that orange loves blue, the taste of hazelnut candies.
I know this is weird. Sorry if it bothers you.
I am slightly addicted to Facebook today. I used to hate it. But then Jeff started messaging me on it today, which is weird because he could just call me. Thanks.
Anyway, add me as a friend if you are on there. I am under my real name (Tina Henry-Barrus), not Tina Seamonster, which makes me super sad.
It is 3 p.m. and I am trying to get the girls to nap again. It will not work and they will not sleep and my daily naps are like the dinosaurs, gone gone gone.
A breeze comes through the window as it is finally fall, my best alive time. It blows Rachi's hair and she says, "I windy, mama." It is cold on my cheek and smells like camping and I am suddenly transported to a camping trip that I took when I was 18 or so. So much went on on that trip, weird friend stuff and someone built me a small scale model of Stonehenge on the camp site and I still have the picture of 18 year old me sitting so happy, teary eyed next to the little henge.
It is rare that I am so completely reminded of and transported to another place and while I love this, that our minds can do this, it also makes me sad. I wonder if this is how it must feel to be very very old. To have 90 or 100 years of memories stored up and then a breeze comes and takes you back to another place and another you. But it is still this you, but this time and place are so so long gone. I wonder if the more life memories you have stored up, the more this happens. And perhaps this is why very old people always seem to be living in the past.
Sometimes I hate that time is linear. I want it to be a swirly wobble. But our little brains couldn't handle this, so we build our clocks and our TV schedules and we live our lives.
My friend, Doug, once told me that in our lifetimes we will cure death. I think he said it like that. That we will cure everything and people wouldn't die like they used to. That we will live to be much much older than we do now. I don't think I could bare this. I don't think I would want to be 150, with 150 years of memories all swirling around in my brain, ready to pop up at any time. Ready to remind me of what I once had. I have never feared getting old, but I suppose I fear staying old forever. Like vampires. Being a vampire must be such a drag. It just goes on and on and on. Vampires are like grandpas, sitting around remembering and remembering.
You come home, a little sweaty from the walk up the hill. Black t-shirt and Chucks and jeans. Your hair is messy and longer than it has ever been. The girls and I are making a bed on the bedroom floor. "We napping," Anya says.
I look at you with the eyes of someone old, who has lived her life already. This is a strange feeling, like I have already been here. It makes me sad, like I am watching a scene from a movie where the main character is not going to make it to the end. The sun is coming in the window just right and the future seems unwritten and free and yet I think, "We will never be younger than this. We will never be happier than this."
One of those is true. You will never be younger than you are today, this very minute, this very second. You are the youngest you will ever be, so stop wasting your time.
"We will never be happier than this," is hopefully not true. I hope I don't think this again. I push it out of my mind and help the girls turn their floor bed into a dragon cave and then a bear cave and then a monster cave and we have made all of the known caves and we are on to something new.
Threadless is having a $10 sale that ends today!
I got this for the girls and I:
I got this for Jeff:
I am desperately trying to finish Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. For a few nights, Jeff and I sat in the living room until quite late, reading and reading and reading. I felt like we were studying for an exam. It was stressful. Of course, he reads far faster than me, so he is done. But I am still stuck around page 400.
The amount of free time that I actually have has become so very clear. I am also realizing that I need glasses big time, as I find myself reading with one eye shut. Cyclops reader.
The funny thing is, I want to finish it so that I can listen to my beloved Mugglecast. How weird is that? I want to finish the book so that I can listen to other people analyze it. The 3 Harry Potter podcasts that I listen to have so made my fandom of the series more enjoyable. In this order, I enjoy, Mugglecast, Harry Potter Prognostications and then Pottercast. If any of those URLs are wrong it is because I am too afraid of being spoiled on the ending to check them!
Yesterday morning the phone rang once. Jeff brought it to me to show me the name of the caller, "Aldron Godblot" was calling. Jeff said, "Is the Harry Potter universe calling us?" I thought with giggles of some poor wizard accidently dialing a Muggle phone. With a name like Aldron Godblot, there is no way you are a Muggle.
i have this watch that speaks french. she tells me what time it is, except she is always wrong. i know just enough french to know she is wrong. and i feel bad for her. she is bad at the only thing she knows how to do.
Threadless is having a $10 sale ($20 for American Apparel shirts). So I took some time from my own silk screening for Art Star to buy the family some shirts. Here is what I got. The first two for me, next one is Anya's and then Rachi's. The last one is the shirt that Jeff wanted, but is sold out. Remember if you are going to buy, use my link so that I get street team points! Everyone loves $10 tees and street team points! Don't spend all your cash, though, cause I have literally made over 100 shirts, skirts, underwear, etc. for Art Star!
i want the weeble wooble ghost from the weeble wobble haunted house i had as a kid. this is my greatest dream. i will carry him in my pocket and marvel at how smooth he is. the cuteness of ghosts is often overlooked.
It is 11:06 and I am tired. I have too many jobs and this keeps me up. I have declared a war on debt and hospital bills. I will win this war and then will be able to sleep and make quilts and capes and silly hats. I know that three years from now this will be my truth, so I press on. It isn't as hard as working in an office. I need to remember that. As always I need to remember a lot of things. I have fought this debty war before and I have fought this weighty war before and I know how to win wars. But I still get emotional about them. I need to get past the emotional part and get to the fighty part. I feel like I am getting there.
Before I got pregnant, my friend life was full of boys. I liked this friend life. It was easy. And I was always fun fun funny me. But when the babies started growing in my tummy I lost some of the boys. Not all, but some. Not the most important, of course. The girls in my tummy took away the sadness of this loss. Today I found myself surrounded by new friends, all girls except one little one whose mommies are awesome. I like this change. I am gathering girls and keeping them in my life and it feels better than my old life. I am gathering girls near and far. I send packages to the ones I can't touch and I gather them from across the sea.
Is there a new you in your life? Do you dig her?
Rachi wears two hats. One summer on top of one witch hat. I dreamt this. Except future Anya was at a party wearing two hats, waiting for her sister. I wonder if they are getting mixed up in my soothsaying. Rachi can now say "octo" for octopus and "Adi" for our door man Adisu. Ani says, "no no no" and "shhh". They are new girls everyday.
People from the past have been showing up lately. Some of it has been Jeff's doing with his crazy Myspacing. But others have to do with my blog. I am easy to find on the web because of it. Is this happening to you, too? How do you feel about it?
It started a few months ago when my best friend from 1st grade emailed me. I think she might have found me on classmates.com or something. But what a lovely surprise. We shared all these memories of our 6 year old selves. I loved that she remembered things that I didn't and vice versa. We used to make these tapes, like radio shows. And I would use this weird voice and said I was the Tiddy Bowl Man. It is a disturbing memory, really. Cindy was my first best friend. We shared all of this time together, singing in her big bedroom. I remember the way the light came through her window and how we loved this song by Roseanne Cash. Then one day, she moved away and was lost forever. She made me think about how, as a mom, I will have to make these kinds of decisions for my girls. I mean, right now I am taking them out of daycare and they can't vote on whether or not they get to stay. Will they miss their friends? Probably not yet, but what about in the future? I thought having infants was hard. I think navigating the politics of friendship for twin six years will be even more difficult.
So the internet is delivering my past to me. Within the course of a week, I have spoken to both an exboyfriend from college and a close friend from high school. Both relationships ended on poor terms, but with time all of that craziness has seemed to evaporate. I love this. I love reknowing people. I always miss people who leave my life. Mostly because I tend to either become very close with someone or not close at all. I am an all or nothing kind of friend. And as I get older, I seem to find comfort in people who knew me when I was younger. I wonder what this is about. It is so interesting to talk to someone you haven't seen in 14 years because you know this former them and if the friendship was close, then you know the core them. But then they have this time that you dont' know about. It is almost like Dr. Who. I know the Doctor. I have watched like 30 years of Dr. Who. But I don't know all the inbetween stories. I don't know about the Time War, ya know? I can just see how it has changed him. I know this is a fictional character, but really this is what this is like. I know these people and who they used to be, but am intersted to see who they became. And how they got there on the way.
This makes me think about this dream that I had where I found a time machine and decided I would go back in time and get actors in the past to come here and box office battle their current selves. Like John Cusak from 1989 came back, made a movie and it was box office gold. Meanwhile the current oldish John Cusak is suffering and is like, "oh crap." I would want to do this for lots of actors. Like dead ones, too. Like Jack Lemon. Is it just me, or would we leave Johnny Depp in the past and keep the current version?
To this, Jeff says, "That is the worst use of a time machine I have ever heard of." This makes me laugh and laugh.
As you may know, I have no time. But just now, both babies asleep, I found this Frappr map thing strangely compelling. You can log in and then the map will show me where you all are. I hate getting sucked in by cool internet crap, but this is pretty cool.
ok... this map isn't working... there is a link on the right... over there on the right (top for IE, bottom of the column for firefox), click it and stuff. it is pretty cool.
Our world is white white white. I am still wearing my jimjams. It is nearly noon. More later. I must baby-wrangle.
I have been withholding this information for some reason. I don't know why. It isn't anything big. Just that i had my reunion with my street grandma. It was a day later than it should have been, because, I am ashamed to say, I avoided her once. I didn't have the time it would take to update her on the past 5 months, so I didn't walk down the street where she stands. I saw her, there, though. Something in me also made me feel a little guilty. I think it is about my real grandma and how I don't visit her in the nursing home. She doesn't remember anyone, I tell myself, so it is ok. But it really isn't ok. These things rarely are. Last time that I went to visit, there was a terrible stomach flu raging among the inmates. I didn't get to see her, but I did get the flu. Pregnant and with the flu. Now, Jeff and I agree that a nursing home is too dirty for infants. So, odds are that I may never see her again. This is what made me avoid Lydia, my street grandma, the other day. This sadness and yearning to see my real grandma.
When my parents told my real grandma that I was pregnant with twins, she didn't really remember me. But to the news, she said, "better her than me!" Ah, that is my Margie. Always with the quippy. When my dad told her that she had two new great grandchildren, she looked at him and said, "mike's daughter, right? she had them." All the while, not even knowing that she was talking to Mike. So it was with all of this in my little head that I seek out my street grandma for the first time in 5 months.
Lydia is right where I left her 5 months ago, next to the smoothie place where I get my lunch. As I walk up, she reaches into her giant silver purse and pulls out a pair of pink gloves. She hands them to me without even saying hello. "For you," she says. "They match your hair." To this I wonder how long this woman has had these gloves in her purse. How many times did she search the streets for my pink hair. How much did she worry about me. And this breaks my heart. I am heartbroken at what I have put her through. I am heartbroken at what we put all grandmas through. They don't deserve this.
She tells me that she got my card announcing the birth of the babies. To this I am happy because it means that she indeed does live somewhere and not outside. She also tells me that around July she thought I might not make it. She worried that I was going to die. I came close, I tell her. I give her another picture of the girls and she is delighted. She asks a lot of questions about daycare and seems worried that I am leaving my daughters somewhere unsafe. "And at night," she says. "You have a place to stay at night." To this, I feel so ashamed of my lovely 7th floor apartment with its solarium overlooking the park. I wish she didn't assume that I am poor, but she worries about me.
Lydia wants to buy a present for the babies. She wants to buy them gloves. I tell her I already have some, but they always could use socks. "I know a lady who sells socks," she says, delighted. I tell her to please not buy too much, as I look down at her cup nearly empty except for a dollar and some coins. I offer to buy her lunch, but she smiles and scolds me. "You know I am trying to lose weight and you offer me food!" I see Margie in her smile. I hear Margie when she speaks. And I am heartbroken. And so, I will avoid her corner for a few days until the pain is dulled.
It is 9:51 pm on a Monday night and we are the only people on the little white bus going from Woodley Park to U Street. The girl in my front pack has finally calmed down after a good deal of hopping and binky giving on my part. Your girl is wearing a blue hoody sweatshirt that you picked out before she was born. Her head is turned and I can only see her tuft of hair. You look so tired in this blue bus light and I am filled with so much love that I can't stand it. At the bus stop you said we were like Mai and Satsuki waiting for the cat bus in Totoro. Iconic. But this moment is equally as iconic. I say that we are like a scene in a movie, the light is just right. You joke that they don't make movies about people with babies. But here we are, we will never be in this place again, on a night bus with 8 week old babies. You in your Bungee baseball cap and me with my pink hair. Some day when we can't afford this city lifestyle, I will remember this. It is funny how life always takes me to exactly where I need to be. And last night on that bus with you and the babies was that place.
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below is my new hair in phases... first the bleaching, then the new pink with some blond. the baby is rachel.
The world still exists and we live in it.
Let's try again. This week, I learned that the world still exists beyond the window that I look out over the changing table. And that we girls indeed do live in it.
On Thursday, Jeff, the girls and I went to the Crafty Bastards party at the CityPaper offices. So at 6 weeks old, my wee ones have been to their first party. We got to meet Sara and the whole Crafty Bastards crew there who were so nice. Then we saw Heidi and Tom, who we adore. Oh my, the arts and craft fair is only 21 days away! Dude, I have a lot ot make before then. Here is a picture of me and the girls that I stole from Heidi's website:
Then on Friday morning, I trekked down the hill more than a mile to my work to show off the girls. I almost cried the last block there because I hadn't walked there is so long and hadn't seen those places in so long. I have worked in the same building for over 10 years and I never thought turning the corner and seeing it would make me cry, but it did. Weird. Everyone at work was so nice and excited to see me and the babies. It was pretty touching. And reminded me of the world/life? I have been missing/missed.
On my way out, the Indian street vendor and his wife in front of the building stopped me excitedly. I have literally walked past these people for ten years, and never talked to them other then to buy an umbrella. The woman was talking really fast, while the man translated. They were worried about me because all of a sudden I had stopped walking past them. They remembered watching me get bigger and bigger during my pregnancy and then I just wasn't there anymore. They were so excited to see me and the babies and were so surprised to see two! They had just become grandparents for the first time in June and were so excited to tell me about it. It was this amazing experience, like something from a Krzysztof Kieslowski movie. This perfect intersection of people and places and things. It reminded me that even though you don't know it, there are people in your life who love you and think about you. Just as you love and think about the person you see on the bus everyday or the man in the elevator with the funny hair. That we all have a story and connections and secret caring for strangers.
Pushing my giant double stroller, I made my way home, stopping at Chocolate Chocolate first for 5 Star bars. The store is so tiny that only the girls and I fit in it. I walked past the Gap, thinking about how excited I was when I could finally wear clothes from there and how excited I will be when I can again. My former life as this carefree girl all came flooding back to me. And I remembered how the dirty streets of Washington were always so inspiring. On bedrest at home and now caring for babies, I missed how dirty the streets really are. I missed all the smells and trash. I missed the allies and the panhandlers. I missed the world. But it still exists and I still live in it. And now there are two more. Two more people who live in it. I hope that some day my girls can be inspired by random trash and side streets. I have a lot of work to do before we get there, but we will.
mypapercrane.com's Heidi posted a picture of this amazing necklace last week and I just had to have one. So I emailed Jenna at www.soopajdelux.com to try and buy one. And the lovely email that I got in response offered to trade one for some stuff from my site, even though I totally wanted to pay for it!!!! So a trade was on. And I got this amazing package from her today. Not only did I get the big blue necklace for me, but she sent along two tiny ones for my tiny girls. See the picture, below. Beyond lovely, people are.
So once again, I am totally floored by how wonderful people can be. People who know you and people who don't know you. I can't wait for the day when the tiny girls can wear these lovely little pieces of art.
So check out www.soopajdelux.com to see more.
Before this package came today, I was drifting a little, worrying about my irrregular contractions and wondering if I was feeling the passengers move enough today. But then these little pieces of art and kindness from a stranger made me bounce back. Whoohoo! I added a new item to the jewelry page: Squished Penny Necklaces and may even get around to emailing everyone from last week back tonight. I say may because I am trying to limit my sitting up to a minimum because my poor feet are swelling and I must be free of the swell for my doctor's appointment tomorrow.
Bouncing back. It is easy. Watch me.
Yesterday, I found myself swirling down the drain. Swirling, swirling, swirling. Yesterday was the second day in a row that I worked from home this week. The second day in a row that I didn't go out into the invisible wall of heat that DC has been this past week. The second day that I didn't change out of my sleep pants. The second day that I did my work in the little corner of our apartment, with the TV on. Yesterday, my feet were so swollen that I couldn't wear shoes.
So by last night, I was swirling down the drain. It was so easy to get there, too. And I know that things like not showering and having the insipid daytime TV on in the background made it worse worse worse.
I went to bed last night, not thinking I would ever be happy again. Really. I did. Isn't that lame? I let these feelings spill over into the my future. Spill over into what it will be like to be home with two tiny girls.
But, get this... this morning I woke up completely fine. There is magic in the bounce back. Amazing magic. I woke up rested and not swollen and ready for the day. I thought, if only it could have been like this when I was depressed years ago. Morning. Wake up. Pow! All better. Is it the power of the tiny girls inside my tummy? Did they spirit away my swirling in the night? If so, thank you tiny girls.
I spent some time this morning thinking of things that will make me happy again when the girls get here. First is shoes. Yes, shoes. I can't wait to have my normal feet back so that I can wear my cute shoes. I know that sounds silly. But if you are a Mary Janes girl, you know what I mean. I am sick of wearing the ugly sneakers like when I was the biggest fat girl. I want to slip my feet into shoes that don't match the rest of my clothes. I want to be free of these huge feet. Another thing is running. I want to be able to run again. I want to feel my muscles move and work like they should. Like the best machine in the world.
There is loveliness in the loneliness of a nearly empty bus when you are running late to work. I can see my pink and blue sneakers in the big bus mirror and my feet swing swing to new words and sounds from Suki and I almost wonder how this rainy world could get better. And this is a repeat repeat of things I have said or thought before, but skinny boys are pretty and even more so when they have pink cheeks in June.
Yesterday, Jeff said, remember when we got off the plane in London at Heathrow and rather than leave with our luggage to begin our vacation, we just sat in the airport. We had only planned that far. Off the plane and now what? It didn't last long, maybe only 30 minutes, maybe less. But there we were, regrouping in this new environment. It is a good memory, one in which we both were feeling this slight fear of what to next. So we just sat there holding hands, sleepy after a night of no sleep on our first plane over the ocean. We talked about just going to sleep right there, we were so tired. Instead we got on the Tube, picking it over other options of getting to our hotel on a Monday morning at 7am. I remember exiting the Tube station, after picking one of 5 exits at random and looking up to see our hotel right there. And even though our room wasn't supposed to be ready until 2pm, I asked nicely and we got it right then and went right up and went to sleep. Not at all upset that the first few hours of our first vacation in another country would be spent sleeping. I remember how happy we were that we had made all the right choices without getting upset at each other the way people may do when they are stressed and tired. I think this is what it will be like when the tiny girls get here. We will look at each other and remember that morning in London when we were exhausted from no sleep and didn't have a clue what to do next and how if we work together, things usually are fine.
I know that bringing home two infants is nothing like going on vacation to London. :) And that comparing them might make me sound a little naive. But I just think all the years that Jeff and I have been together have made it so that we are able to face things with this sense of calm. But it only works together. I don't think either of us can get there without the other. It makes me wonder when reading the baby books... who are these men who have to be told that their wives need help with new babies? How do these men written about in these books function in their marriages? And who are these women who would think to have babies or even lives with people who aren't complete partners? I mean really? How do these people function in their separate pods in their separate lives, all the while pretending to be together? Jeff wonders these things too, because all of the books about fatherhood that he has read spend all this time reminding men that their wives need help with new babies. We are too modern. Him and I, I fear we are.
My world smells like cake today. I have no idea why.
Last night, Jeff and I fell alseep at 5:30 with all the windows open. It was lovely. We napped for hours, getting up in time for guilty pleasure TV, American Idol and The Amazing Race. During our nap, I dreamt that I was trying to download the babies. Not on a computer, but just out in the world. I couldn't download them, though, because I didn't know their file names. And their paths were long and shadowy. Like their file name paths were hard to see, not their life paths.
When I woke up I thought about how the words 'file' and 'life' have the same letters in them. Weird.
I am new car smell.
This weekend made me feel way too adult. Which is funny considering I am 31. Jeff and I went out to the suburbs to buy a car. We took the metro and then planned to take a bus the rest of the way, but found a shuttle to Alexandria Toyota. And weeks and weeks of reading Consumer Reports and learning about all the cars on the market and doing research paid off in the form of a pretty indigo Toyota Matrix. Her name is Mabel and she looks like a big grape/blueberry gumball. And our 4 years without a car (by choice) are now over. And I am a little sad that I don't hate cars anymore. Mabel is a guilty pleasure.
And I learned that I am a right little deal maker considering that we acquired Mabel for 2k less than the sticker price. We were smart and bought a car that was within our means and Jeff only wished for the Prius a tiny bit when we went to see the cars on the lot.
So far, having a car in the city isn't too hard. We haven't had a hard time parking it yet, but I am sure that will change considering we live in Adams Morgan. But for now, the whole thing has been pretty painless. Well, except for the pain of giving up my hatred for cars. But my growing tummy tells me this is a good thing.
Other things. I didn't gain any weight last week. This is an ok thing. I have gained 25 pounds total so far. And I am halfway there. Any bets on how much gained I will get through this with? I am thinking 45 pounds gained. We will see. Last week, I was feeling really heavy. This morning, I got out of bed easily, no heavy feeling at all. Weird. It comes and goes, that plump feeling. Once again, I will say this is because I know what it is like to be really fat. So this is nothing!
Tomorrow I am 19 weeks pregnant. This is what is happening with the babies: >>At 15 centimeters crown to rump, and weighing eight ounces, your babies are getting big! This week, permanent teeth buds are forming behind the milk teeth buds.>> I wish my tummy were bigger and more round. I know I should be happy right now that it isn't. Because while it is pretty and would make me look more pregnant. I know that two months from now, I will be complaining of the big round tummy.
This morning, in the elevator leaving home, I thought that I had forgotten something. Then it hit me, I have forgotten the babies! Then I laughed because I can't forget the babies, they are inside of me. Silly yeti.
Things I love this morning.
:: Getting my new sneakers splashed with rain water. The girl next to me at the bus stop was horrified at her newly wet feet. I was elated and jumped back like it was a game.
:: The sound of the violin. But not the sound of the violin played by old people, but the sound of the violin played by the young. The way a violin can be used just as a guitar would be. Also the words chronical and accordian.
:: The way that cold rain can so suddenly become giant snowflakes. Rain is a thing and snow is people.
:: The way this boy on the bus was so worried about making sure he got off at his stop. And how his dirty sneakers didn't touch the floor when he sat down.
New podcast has been posted.
Seamonsters Restaurant Fuel Podcast #2 -- 3/6/05 -- 25 minutes long!
I tried my italk this morning, but the street was too too loud. I will have to try it again on the inside world. I talked a little about how when you are pregnant, you get so used to being 16 weeks pregnant, but that doesn't last long at all and before you know it (tomorrow) you have to get used to being 17 weeks pregnant and it moves so so fast. Like a rollercoaster once you get over the first hill. Today, my world is so lovely. All warm and breezes. It makes me want to ride a rollercoaster. It makes me want to see the place past fear. The excitement of it.
[recording podcast segment about this... see future broadcast for more]
I am rediscovering my favorite things. The joys of the second trimester are not only that I am not throwing up in anyone's garden, but also that I can enjoy myself and everything I loved before I got pregnant. Like: music and the breeze and colors. Before last week, all of those things were kind of sickly because I was sickly. But now, I feel like the world is alive and I can enjoy it again. I put Suki on shuffle and she reminds me of all of my old friends. Maritime and Miss Kitten and anything else by Davey (The Promise Ring). It makes me want to name all of my babies Davey. [who the hell is Davey, anyway? http://www.maritimesongs.com]
These past few months made me think there was no way that I could enjoy pregnancy. But here I am singing it's praises like a silly convert. I wonder if biologically, this happy time happens so that women don't hurt themselves. I wasn't sure I could take another day of being dizzy and pukey. Now I walk around with my hand on my back or tummy and I am a huge cliche. And it is ok.
i am amazed by my own level of clever. ::::::i said this to someone today, "we are complicated men, you and i." for some reason it made me laugh big big.::::::
For a while my hair was fading to a very pale pink and lavendar. I figured that since I couldn't re-bleach, I would just do with the pale colors I was becoming. I have to say that I also thought, well, I am becoming a mom, I won't need to be so crazy with my appearance anymore. I have to say this was just a little bit of depression that made me think that way.
On Sunday, Jeff took a bath to soak his poor broken toe. This gave me a reason to hang out in the bathroom for a while and talk to him. Hmm, what can I do in the bathroom for that long? I searched through the linen closet for my hair dyes and found one that I had never used. Atomic Pink! As long as I don't bleach, I am fine. So I went at it. And now I have this full head of Atomic Pink hair with like 2 inches of brown roots. I feel like a rock star. Haha.
I just went outside to get my lunch and the sun is happy, but the air is still cold. Spring is still dressed like winter. And her wind blows my pink hair everywhere. And I am the only pink haired pregnant girl on the streets of downtown Washington. And this makes me feel special even though I am special without those things. But this makes me feel like a giant ball of joy. I am a force of joy. I am. I am. A force. I am.
look at me shrink. now, look at me grow. look at me age. and the world moves around me.
My daily walks have turned into bus rides and I now love riding the bus. If i sit far enough back, I can make it so that my feet don't touch the floor of the bus and that is magical. Suki sings to me on shuffle from her little white and silver frame and I dangle my feet. Lalala. The whole ride, I am itchin to get off and walk the next block home or to work, just so I can move move move. And I do, like a race horse, I'm out the gate, surrounded by cold bus air and people and I love my world.
I have been thinking of the things that I want to teach my kids to love or do or appreciate. Here's my list so far: color, feeling their muscles work, jumping on the bed, making noise, laughing big and loud and deep and for real, animals (but specifically small details about animals, like a seal's teeth or a bird's feet or a dog's nose), calling old people dude (it always takes them off guard), weather (good and bad). Oh there is so much more.
Things I wanna teach my kids are bad and should be avoided: the circus, joining the military, organized religion, smoking, most mass market fiction, hunting, the lottery, the actress meryl streep. I am sure there is more, but those are the most important. But really, I don't want to be the kind of parent who ever tells their kids they can't do something. If my kids have some crazy idea, I want them to be able to see it through. No matter what it is (unless it is in the list above). Like if my girls become nuns who play the lottery and love meryl streep, I will be so disappointed. I am being funny, but I really don't like the selflessness of giving your life to God or your country. I don't want to raise selfish people, but I do want my children to love life enough to want to take it and make it theirs and enjoy it and live it. I know that in America, these are not popular views, but I can't curb how I feel about those things. END RANT. hehe.
My clones should be about 2-1/2 inches each now. My tummy is starting to grow. And I am in love with the world today. It moves all around me and inside of me and nothing could be better.
i saw her again just now. my pretend grandma. she was standing on the corner with a cup. i never know if she is collecting money because she doesn't look homeless. and i see her on her way to work in the morning. i have seen her on her way to work and panhandling off and on for 10 years. we always talk. we always smile.
merry christmas, she said as I walked past her to the CVS. Merry Christmas, I replied. The whole time in the CVS, I am thinking about her cup and whether or not she is actually panhandling or just standing there in the freeze with a cup. And I wonder if at 74, she even knows. So, I take $5 out of my wallet and make my way out to see her. I walk up to her with my $5 and try to give it to her.
No, she says. You need it for your holiday. No, I don't, I say. Now I am getting worried that I am offering money to someone who is indeed NOT panhandling. No, really, this is for you, I say. To this she says, you know what I want you to do with that? I want you to have a christmas party for all the little kids. She says this with a twinkle in her eye. I ask her if I can give her a hug. I do. And i whisper, it is nice to see you. I whisper this and in my arms I feel my own grandma. Fraile and soft. I pull away and my pretend grandma's eyes are sparkley with tears. This is a bad tv moment, but it is ok.
If I ever were the captian of a great ship, it is today. The air outside is cold and wet and the rain spits on you like it is jumping from waves. The cuffs of my pink courdory pants are wet and dirty and I like it that way. I kept trying to hail a cab this morning, so that I could get to work early. But they were all full. All little pods with people inside, traveling across the ocean, while I am the captain of my own little vessel, navi navi the high seas. I felt like I was trying to hail a tug boat. After a while, I gave up. When I give up one thing, I usually give up all of them. So down my umbrella went. And I let the rain fall on me freely, like some kind of insane girl with pink and blue hair. Carrying an umbrella in a storm, rather than using it. This action made my panda ears ploppy today. Plop plop. The silliness of wearing Mary Janes in the rain soon dawned on me as my spotted socks began to chill with rain.
I am the captain of a great ship. I am the captain of a tiny boat. I am the captain of my future and my self.
I feel like those three lines are the answers to give all people when they have problems. I wish someone would have told me those things when I was, say, 16. I wish someone would have told me those things at 24. And now at 31, I tell myself and you and we all can be the captain.
I almost wrote those 3 lines are the answers to give all girls who have problems. But, I thought about it and realized that we are so beyond that. I am so beyond that. Boys are just as worthy of advice as girls. It is funny because while I know that mostly females read my blog, it is boys who fill my real day to day life. That is a tangent. Thank you for following me on it.
here's another picture from my trip... me at stonehenge... jeff took this and it is really lovely how clear i am in the foreground and then the little stonehenge in the background. props to jeff for his amazing framing. props to me for wearing orange and pink together. props to stonehenge for being really old. and dude, old navy should totally buy this as a marketing photo... cause both the scarf and jacket are from there. fat girls everywhere would run out and buy orange scarves andpink velvet jackets. i wrote that sentence and then kept a bit yucky.,.. i think i might not think of myself as a fat girl anymore. weird. wow. rad.
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backbackback.
i am back from my first overseas holiday. we had a wonderful time, i missed my apartment and dog and friends. took a total of 257 pictures... so i will upload some of those soon, prolly after my volunteering this morning.
we fetch archie tonight. i hear he has been spending a lot of time in front of the window, sighing. poor chap. i think he grandma will be happy to be done with him, though. haha.
ok. more later.
ok, here is the first picture... jeff and i on our first night in london... can't really see, but we are at trafalgar square.
hihihi
hope you don't think i am not enjoying my vacation... someone wrote to say that i sounded lukewarm about it. i am not. i think i am just realizing a lot about my own city of washington, dc. that it suits me fine. which isn't to say that london isn't lovely. it is. old and lovely.
today we did some markets.... one of which was camden town, which someone who is in the know told us to just avoid because while people say it is cool. it really isn't. she was right right right! i think my tastes in clothes and things have totally gotten weird because i walked around for all this time without finding anything to buy. and this was supposed to be my big big shopping day. everything just seemed too, well, trying to be cool. i finally found this lady making jewelry with guitar picks and army men. pretty cool. i got a bracelet. i also got loads of knee socks, which might become my newest fashion. what else? have i told you about the cadbury? oh my. cadbury machines everywhere everywhere. all i think about is chocolate. the window of our hotel looks out over a room where women are making clothes. i like to watch them. i am sure they don't enjoy my staring.
got an email today that the q and not u venue has changed. lovely. haha. and they are playing with red monkey. that is rad, though.
tomorrow is the portobello market, which was recommended... and the Imperial War muesuem for Jeff. Also, another little gallery since they are far better than the big uns.
The lobby of our hotel this evening was full of scottish santas. And one guy in a scooby doo suit. Funny. Funny. Super funny.
more tomorrow.
9:25. In the Burger Pig basement again. I just bought £12 worth of socks on the street. British flags and fruit animals with faces.That is the kinda girl I am.
Today we did a day trip to stonehenge and Salisbury and Bath. All were lovely, but the 3 hour bus ride home was ughughugh. We spent £7 on gormet chocolates made by French hands. Um... yum. Jeff got these little owls that looked like dark chocolate, but had hazelnut in them. To this I sang a little song, *you and me at the chocolatier*.
Stonehenge was lovely , but we only had like 30 miuntes there including shopping. I can't wait to see what I bought. haha. I do know that I got these little stonehenge earrings, but upon closer inspection they look like little silver pants. Pantshenge. We have only been here for 4 days, but it feels like a lifetime and I keep forgetting I am not in Washington, DC. I had a real British meal today, sausagages and mash. pretty good. not bad and all that.
Tomorrow we will have a more free day of hopefully cooler markets than the Covent Garden, which I call Crap Garden. And we will look for the Rough Trade record shop. Sunday we are seeing Q and Not U, which is funny and rad considering that we have seen them a million times and they are from DC.
I am currently loving the colors orange and pink TOGETHER! Insane. Jeff is falling in love with modern art. I go to the shops before the attractions, which is particularly american of me, but it makes more sense. See what the gift shop thinks is important and then go to it. Limited time and all that. Do you know that I can't even remember what I had for dinner last night?
Remember all that talk I was doing yesterday about fog. Dude, I saw real fog today. Over the moors or what-ev-er (accented). I can't believe that people live there and feel their ways through that stuff. It is lovely and silly all at once. I search for you through the fog and I just keep finding myself. I thought that the whole time we drove through it. Thick and thick and thick.
Today, my shirt says, *I spread my wings and brush a million other worlds.* If I were in the Miss America pagent (if it still exists), and they asked me my number one dream. I would say, to spread my wings and brush a million other worlds. Or to be a weight loss trainer to the stars or a kindergarten teacher. Or perhaps all at once.
More tomorrow. My jammy pants are calling me. Goodnight from London and all that.
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