Patting underwear-clad bottoms

Lovely things:

Who knew patting a bottom with just cotton undies on top of them was so much better than patting a diapered one??

The butter on an Spring Brunch table.


When given the choice, Hollis picked the hot(test) pink potty in the store.


The woman behind the make-up counter at Nordy's told me, while looking at a 4 different lines of skin care, that I didn't need repair or wrinkle treatment, but just needed PREVENTION.

The mornings here have been gray.

Butts, in general.


I gave freely to people I care about and who would never ask for it, because I could.

A real conversation between Hollis and my mom about his new hot pink potty.


Hollis a techy Texan bunny.

Hollis has an eye for design.

I rearranged Hollis' room and got real, grown up dressers for mine.

I've reconnected with old friends on levels I didn't know even existed between us.

My life.



[Ed. note: all photos are taken with my iPhone 3G. Some were taken with my Camera Bag app (using the Colorcross feature), others with Hipstamatic (using the Kaimal Mark II lense), and others just plain and then messed with in iPhoto. I don't know what I'd do without my trusty little black box.]

Sucking it - the fuck - up: Moms are warriors

Attie Poo McJigglechops workin' a tie like no other. (We make cute babies, no?)

Yesterday my little sister went back to work after giving birth at the end of November.Her son, Atticus, is a lively, chubby, easy-going three-month old who will now be in the care of his father for the next six weeks, then a combination of mother, father, and grandmother from there on out.

The three months was a very gracious offering. Ordinarily, my sister would have gotten approximately 6 weeks paid, but her company gave her an extra two, and she used a month's worth of vacation time to patchwork 12 weeks of time to have her first child.

I don't think I have to tell any of you how cruel this is. More so for my sister than for Atticus.

She's being a soldier about it, though, and in all honesty I really admire and appreciate her attitude about it all. She can't change it, she has to make it work, and ultimately she knows (as do I) that Attie and his new parents will be just fine, if not a bit shaken up for some time as they all get used to the new de rigeur. But she's been blessed with a baby that happily takes her breast milk from anyone, who is colic-free, and who will good humoredly try out new things such as a bouncer or a warm stranger's shoulder while mommy or daddy takes a shower. I'm hopeful that the transition will be an easy one.

When Atticus was just a week old I was talking to my sweet sissy poo on the phone and I asked her when she had to go back to work. "February 22nd," she choked out and I could hear her breath catching as she quietly sobbed with her baby at her breast. "You'll be ok, Gabby. I promise," I gently replied not really able to understand what she was about to go through and hoping I was right.

I imagine leaving your infant with anyone when you've spent every moment thinking and/or touching him up until then nothing short of unnatural. And I don't mean that in a judgmental sense, not at all. On the contrary, I'm just looking at it from an objective, historical point of view. No 12-week mother-baby pair would be separated if it weren't for modern day imperatives and responsibilities (or the luxury of at least a wet-nurse prior to pumps and formula).

Gabby loves her career and happens to be the major bread-winner and so such is her journey. I told her it was ok to cry in her office, to ask Maury to bring the baby to her to nurse or cuddle, to even leave early to be with her baby. Of course, even I understand that there is a cut-off for this kind of behavior, but I say go for it for as long as necessary with no compunction. Fuck it. It's your baby and really nothing is ever as important after they appear in this world. It's too bad that no company would allow that kind of flexibility forever, but so far they're being very understanding of their first-ever pregnant employee (amazing, isn't it?? And they've been around for over a decade!), and have also even given her the option of working 4 days a week.

I haven't talked to her yet, so I don't know how her first day back went, but I remember clearly the first time I was separated from Hollis. I cried off and on for roughly 24 hours, and then I was fine, but it was still heartbreaking. I couldn't figure out WHY I was crying; I just did. But he was also 27 months old. I don't know what I would have done at 12 weeks. Probably what thousands of other mothers do: suck it the fuck up.

And that's why I'm not going to wallow in my current state of loneliness. Hollis and Anthony are currently en route to Boston to visit Anthony's twin sister for 7 days. I've stayed behind to reclaim a semblance of sanity and just relax for the first time in over 2 years. I miss Hollis keenly, but won't allow any tears because, really, what's the point?? He's with his dad, he's going to have an amazing time, and I have been BEGGING for this alone time forever so why ruin it with yearning for something that isn't here?

So I plan on drinking wine, watching chick flicks, reading stupid magazines, working out, sleeping in, never getting dressed, and eating ice cream for dinner for a week. I'm going to think about my sweet baby sister who's going through one of the worst things all working moms have to go through and send her good vibes. I'm going to write every day until my eyes blur and I start repeating myself. I'm going to research what I can do to start changing the current mat-leave policies here in America to more closely resemble those of Canada and Europe because 12 weeks is far too short. I'm going to sit and spin on how lucky I am to stay home with my son, regardless of the unique struggles it brings because it's an amazing gift to be able to participate in every part of his day. And, of course, I'm going to contemplate my doughy navel some more. I'm sure I can come up with some more interesting posts than what I've been generating and it's my goal to fill up my queue with witty, droll musings.

What have your experiences with maternity leave and separation been like? Is it always this hard for moms to be away from their kids not matter what? Or am I just being a weenie?

Spending some quality time with Mama at breakfast yesterday.

Getting ready for his big trip.

You'll have to trust me when I tell you it's snowing.

See? Snow!

Heading to the airport and [truly] snowy Boston.

Blogging is like a surrogate family

Ya'll are my peeps.

It's always fascinating to me how much blogging has come to mean to me. I'm shy about it with my IRL friends (that's In Real Life, by the way) and I'm apologetic about it with Anthony, who is always curious about my constant blog-thinking-ways.

But it's become my surrogate family in a way, much like office mates have, or classmates. Other bloggers are my go to friends to share inane things with and offer up my two cents about cloth or disposable diapers or if those shoes go with that dress.

When I worked in an office I can't tell you how many little things I said every day to anyone willing to listen. And I don't mean that it was just me, either. People were always stopping by to chat or calling to say, "What's up, girl?" It's what people do: we socialize. It was the same with school. Once I made friends there was a link set up between us for sharing any thought or feeling we cared to and it was wonderful.

At home, with a small animal, otherwise known as a toddler, I don't have those links anymore. Obviously, it's up to me to get out there and make them, but it's a lot harder to do than it sounds. There are naps to negotiate, mealtimes, poop times, energy levels to take into account. I think I do a lot of shit with Hollis and still manage to make his life interesting and fun while also running the business of our lives, but I'm still a little stumped as to how to get out there and make friends, too. I mean... I have so much going on as it is! Fucking A, people!

Enter blogging. I've written about this before, but I wanted to say it again: I love to blog, no, WRITE. I'm slowly beginning to think of it as writing even and it makes me feel good and I'd like to own it and feel good about it. Not sheepish, shy, or apologetic.

I'm meeting more and more awesome women out there (yeah, mostly chicks since I'm haunting blogs by other mothers and articles written by/for women) and picking up links. It's been a slow process. I've been blogging since April of '08 and I'm only now getting my sea legs. What can I say? I'm a slow mover.

So, keep the comments and emails coming. Keep on connecting with me via FB, Twitter, whatever. I love it and it's so much more to me than just a time killer. It's truly a virtual link to friends and family. You are all my sounding board, my passing friend I get to say, "Hey, I just had the best ham sandwich EVER!" to, and you keep my days interesting and full of laughter and deep thoughts. - What a great combo: laughter and deep thoughts! I feel like a jolly ol' philosopher most days! -

Kiss, kiss - Jess

When your TV just becomes a black box

As I mentioned a week ago, I have no TV. I mean, I own a television, but it doesn't do anything right now except play my workout DVDs and an occasional movie. I thought I'd be more upset by this new turn of events, but I'm not. I thought that only the droning waves a TV can provide could fix those moments of I-can't-bring-myself-to-clean-but-too-jacked-up-to-nap, but I was very, very wrong.

I also thought that with no TV I might be lured to spend more time on the internet. I've already been struggling to balance my need to interact with other adults (in whatever format that may be) with being present with Hollis and the last thing I needed was an excuse to insert the internet-IV needle back into my arm. But that wasn't the case, either.

I'm surprised that I've spent a lot less time on the internet and, in general, less time worrying about anything other than just enjoying myself in whatever moment I find myself in.

Last week Anthony was in the Dominican Republic and Costa Rica and I was solo for several days. I had such a good time with Hollis. I practically felt like I was on vacation, but I sort of expected that (it's the whole When the Cat's Away phenomenon). We played for hours in the house and the yard, we spent the night twice at my mom's to gear up for a Hollis Stays the Night with Grandma and Grandpa weekend, we colored, we wrestled on the bed, we went to the park.

Quite honestly, all of this isn't all that different from what we usually do. What I didn't expect was that I didn't beat myself up for enjoying it all. I actually had the presence of mind to allow myself some pleasure. Whoa! What a freakin' concept!

The laundry stayed in baskets, the floors remained filthy, the yard a disaster, and Hollis ate chicken nuggets at least 4 times (and not my usual homemade ones).

And that's not like me at all. I push myself like I'm a freaking Olympian in all things house- and baby-related. The fact that I still feel like a winner is a pretty big deal. I'm not a loser for switching gears a little. I actually feel smarter for it. I was a better me because I was relaxed for a change.

Of course, I cleaned like crazy the whole day before Anthony got home (not that he'd care in the least). I couldn't just leave the house like that! My week was like eating ice cream in bed... for dinner... every night. I'd kept the bowls hidden under the bed for days, but then it was time to get them into the dishwasher and hide the evidence!

It was a wonderful week topped off by Anthony's homecoming and a Father's Day spent watching Anthony jump a horse, knock back a Father's Day mojito or two at Moonshine buffet, then nap, and finally grilling at mom and Terry's.

And now I'm seriously debating about whether or not to get any kind of TV service plugged back in. Is it the lack of TV that has made the past 10 days so blissful? Or is it something else?? Have I finally turned a corner in my adult development to stop being so uptight and hard on myself??

Anthony's text from Dominican Republic set off a chime and Hollis ran to the phone saying, "Dada!"


Digby supervising a chat with Papa.


New style of riding.


Second night staying at Mom and Terry's.


Poopin' horse.


Their shirts match.

Tucked under the blanket.

At the park at 9 am because it was already 85 degrees.

My Sweet Baby Hollis.

I love my husband, but...

Don't let this sweet smile fool you

... he's a fucking BEAR when he's sick.

Last week I caught something that gave me a sore throat, fuzzy head, headache, and a bad attitude. It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't fun. Anthony came home early on Wednesday night and made dinner and cleaned up and washed and put down Hollis that night. The next day, I was 10x worse, but I decided I could handle it and sent Anthony to work. I was miserable chasing after Hollis and trying to keep up the house, but I did it. Feeling sorry for myself and all. I got over it by Saturday and life went on with nary a blip in the functioning of the household. Then Anthony got it.

Since Anthony's option of calling in sick is a lot more feasible than it is for me, he chose to stay home from work on Monday and Tuesday to rest and do a little work from home.

The problem?

He expected, to actually be able to lay around anywhere in the house and not be disturbed and just "be sick."

Late in the afternoon on Tuesday, while Hollis was fighting his afternoon nap with intermittent, pissed crying, Anthony comes stomping out to the living room from our bedroom where he'd been on a conference call. I could tell something wasn't right because he was shooting me down with Death Rays from his eyes. I knew I was in trouble somehow.

With mouth snarling, hair sticking out every which way, and a foreboding five o'clock shadow he grumbles, "This is the worst 2 days I've ever had being sick," as if it were my fault.

Of course, I didn't take to this very kindly since I thought I'd been doing a fine job of taking care of his don't-make-me-take-pills-until-I'm-damn-good-and-ready ass, plus, I'd been ignoring him per our agreement for when he works from home (I'm not allowed to ask him to do anything or watch Hollis, which I find to be perfectly fair. He is working, after all). But, no. I had asked him to "sorta" keep an eye on Hollis as he ran around the house and I was trying to catch up on some work on the computer. I had also given Hollis to him while he attempted to nap on the living room couch because Hollis was so excited to discover him there. And - gasp - I was "letting" Hollis cry, unattended in his room and, Anthony claimed, that this crying was the direct cause of his unbearable headache and why didn't I "just let him run around for a while?"

In any case, I was not doing a good job of taking care of my husband. According to Anthony, anyway.

I started to say about 8 different things at once. I wanted to smack him, tell him to stop being such a big baby, and to suck it up because that's what I had to do. I did manage to say something about "letting Hollis cry," because that really pushed a hot button for me, but it was useless. Anthony was a goner. He didn't want to hear me say, "I know Hollis is exhausted and he'll be asleep very soon. If I let him run around he'll never nap." Nor did he want to hear, "I do this all the time, Anthony, with you gone. Why would I suddenly change my style just because you're here?? I KNOW he'll be asleep soon and just needs to be left alone for 5 minutes." The fact that Hollis was dead asleep in exactly 5 minutes spoke loud enough in the end.

And then, instead of following that mean little rabbit down its argument-laden trail it all at once it hit me like a ton of bricks that maybe for Anthony the past two days really had sucked beyond compare. That this was another life adjustment to our new family dynamics and he was being caught off guard. Had he felt better, I bet he'd had more patience with both me and Hollis. Obviously, there wouldn't have been a problem then, but I could extend him the benefit of the doubt that he was feeling like shit and therefore had about *this* much extra energy to tell himself I wasn't out to get him or run him into the ground with parenting demands.

True to his nature, he apologized later. And it's never a weenie, please don't be mad at me apology, either. It's genuine. He's the first person who's EVER apologized to me and really meant it and I can say it's one of the reasons I married him. If he ever acts poorly he always reflects on it and says, "Jess, I'm sorry for being a dick. I don't know why I said/did that." Bad behavior from him is rare in the first place, but it's consoling during a rough interaction to know that he'll be aware of his actions at some point in the future and we can talk about them.

And I want to be very clear here: I am not perfect. But this is mainly my blog, so, you know. He's more than welcome to post about me being ridiculous any time. I can take it!

I just found it funny in a stunned, sort-of-humorous way, that Anthony would make such a big deal out of his cold. I don't want to throw him under the bus, but come on! - Oops, that sorta is throwing him under the bus. - I'm sorry, I really am. Anthony is awesome, wonderful, sweet, thoughtful, dead sexy, handsome, and wicked smart. But his kryptonite happens to be his new life when all he wants to do is rest and sleep as if he were single and blissfully alone again. What I wouldn't have given to have those three days last week to just lay in bed and watch TV instead of cooking, cleaning, running errands, and taking care of Hollis.

Isn't that the crux of all of this?? He complained about what I didn't complain about and I'm disgruntled that he thought he had the right to complain in the first place. Of course the man has a right to complain! I did, too. It's my fault that I didn't and it's a good place to give more attention to because the last thing I want to become is a martyr and a "mom can do anything anytime under any circumstances" kind of mom. I want everyone around me to rely on me and be confident in my abilities, but to also lend a hand when I need it (even if I don't come right out and ask for it every time).

Having kids changes everything. Even things you might not expect. Like staying home from work sick. I hope Anthony doesn't opt to go into the office next time, hoping for a cozy, quiet spot under his desk instead of the dull roar of chaos at our house. I promise to be a little more sensitive to a sick man's need for solitude and a soft pillow. I promise!

Can you feel the lurv?? (Valentine's Day '08)

Reach out and tweet someone

I have discovered Twitter and it is glorious. I mean, hundreds, thousands, millions of people sending out random information every minute of every day. It is a dream come true for a gal whose daily universe is her 1300 square foot house, a couple of parks and a dreamy 18 month old. For real.

Blogging has been an enormous help in my endeavors to "get out there," because, as I've mentioned before, I'm so freakin' shy and scared of other mothers, blah blah blah. The internet is so safe, so secure, so friendly. I know that those three things sound like complete bullshit and like I'm a moron, but I'm internet savvy. Super internet savvy, really, so I feel like I got this thing figured out. Remember I met Anthony on MySpace in 2003, after all. Blogging allows me to put myself out there as if I were chatting over coffee with a friend (yep, this blog must be really boring for all my real life friends because it's everything I'd normally say in a "real life" day).

I'm building my blogging relationships (I even got my very first listing in a blog roll from Noelle, a total stranger who does Baby in Broad - that was a great day when I noticed that!!) and I'm slowly, but surely developing a style and a theme. Enter Twitter.

I actually heard it first from my friend, Lax. We had been talking about the power of social media and who really liked it (of course, I love it) and who didn't (my friend, Shad, has stuck by his guns of preferring face-to-face interactions, for example). I had started with Friendster, then graduated to MySpace and had just recently discovered Facebook when Lax told me about Twitter. I was so happy with what I already had going I decided to not look into it too closely.

Then, my favorite morning show (JB & Sandy) had Lance Armstrong yakking away with them and he kept saying, "I tweeted this," and "I went to my Twitter that," and I got more interested. Lance Armstrong is tweeting??

So, about a month ago, I got an account and stepped into this new, uncharted world of social interaction and I'm hooked. It actually replaced my solitaire last night. WTF? And then I got shut out because my iPhone Twitter app (Twitter Fon) won't allow more than 100 requests in an hour. A hundred? In an hour? I really am starved for interaction!

I've been sick the past couple of days and haven't had the energy to blog, but I've been tweeting and it's fascinating to me how much it helps me feel connected. That sounds like a big, dumb, "DUH" thing to say since its whole reason is to connect people. Well, I guess I can attest that it's working.

Staying at home to raise children is such a precious thing. I feel spectacularly lucky that a) I want to do it, deep down in my bones, b) we can financially support it, and c) I'm having relative success in this traditional role. However, with this traditional role comes traditional isolation. In these new life and times of the internet I can throw open my shutters and let the sun shine in and still give all that I have to give to my son AND still stay connected, open, and honest with the world.

If you're not already on Twitter, join. It's easy, fun, and really an experiment in a new way of interacting (follow me @tisworthwhile). If you read my blog, comment. It's like getting an unexpected present and it makes my day.

Today is beeyootiful in Austin and I'm feeling a smidgen better. It's a damned good day.

When the cat's away the mouse... RELAXES

On speaker-phone with The Cat on Tuesday afternoon.
Why is it that whenever Anthony's gone on a business trip I feel like I'm on fucking vacation? You should see the house: projects strewn everywhere, I haven't "cleaned" once, I'm sleeping like a drugged up rock star and waking up feeling like a 10 year-old on Christmas morning. It's fantastic.

The only thing I'm missing is my husband!

What. The. Fuck. How stupid is this??? What is it about the daily grind with another adult in the house that makes my life harder? And it's not Anthony - let me be clear. The man could live in, and be perfectly content, a dirt-floored yurt. It's me. I do it to myself. Maybe I should stop trying to take care of a grown man so much and let him take care of himself more. No more breakfasts and packed lunches. We'll only have dinners when I feel like it...

No, no, no... that feels so wrong, too!

Damn. I'm stumped. How do I fix this??

Wednesday morning chit chat.

I'd like to respond

I recently did one of those "25 Things" that go around on Facebook. It's a little game where a friend will "tag" you to list 25 random things about yourself. I really like these little doodads. I don't even care that I had already done a "16 Things" list... I could come up with something every hour of my life if I had to!

What's really surprising about this list-making exercise is that I actually discovered something new about myself. I wouldn't have thought that would be a result. I was just returning a lobbed ball, after all. But I discovered why I blog, why I Facebook, why I Twitter (that's new!).

Being a SAHM (stay at home mom, for those of you not in the know) I am isolated. I spend most of my time with a creature that doesn't speak English. I'm not "alone," per se, but it's a lot like hanging with a dog. You interact and go do fun things, but the dog is waiting on you to call all the shots and is happy with pretty much whatever. A baby is a lot like that, except he isn't always happy with whatever. The internet makes my home the universe and expands the borders of my kitchen.

I can focus 100% of my attention on my little critter and still interact with grown ups all day long! That's even better than an hour-long play group! I feel like I've struck the mofo'ing jackpot with this internet thing! I've felt so cut off since Hollis broke the house laptop (the screen is currently being propped up by two pillows) last week; I've been compulsively pecking at my iPhone checking FB, Twitter, and email (thank God for my phone!).

And you guys, my internet brethren, you indulge my extroverted need to recharge by interaction. You say nice things, email me, leave comments. And for that I say THANK YOU!!

Krissy and Carolyn, I feel like you two need a special shout out in particular because your online-selves are what I aspire to be. You leave the most thoughtful comments and you're wickedly funny (I'm thinking all the FB comments, updates, etc.). I never leave comments on blogs. The most I ever do is a 10 word comment on FB.

Of course, this universe at my doorstep is a great thing for me. I have NO worldly idea how I'm going to manage this for my kids, though. That's a whole other topic for another day.

New things

At the park walking distance from Mom's.

New things in our household:

- All baby words starting with the letter B. That'd be "bah," "buh," "baa," and "bay," which roughly translates to "ball," "bird," "bath," and "baby." I think.
- Interest in using a spork at mealtimes.
- Haircuts.
- Going "bye bye."
- Cleaning like me and using the very fun and wonderful tools to do so such as: the broom, vacuum cleaner, duster, and cloths.
- Very little tripping on rough terrain.
- Interest in books.
- More teeth.
- Showing of genuine affection towards us.
- Sincere gentleness with people and animals, not just a light baby's touch because he's not in control of the exertion, but a deliberate soft touch.
- Sense of humor. Particularly being able to laugh at himself when the joke's on him. My personal fav: giving him his paci, but yanking it away at the last minute. Ooh! We get some good laughs from that!
- Solid nights of sleep. Sweet, sweet sleep.
- Facing forward in the car seat.
- Recognizing places we're going and showing anticipation.

:: I have to interrupt this current post to say that Anthony is pelting me with incessant questions about what I'm writing about. He's worried I'm going to tell the world that he cannot finish a home improvement project to save his life and that I am busy putting it out into the ether. Well, I'm not. But I kinda just did. And actually, he's currently beginning to finish a project he and his dad started approximately 2 1/2 years ago. Yeah, Anthony! I'm quite happy about it, actually, but we'll see if it gets completed in less than a year - although, I'm crossing my fingers for 4 weeks, and praying for a weekend. ::

- Naps are regular and well accepted.
- Anthony and I get up at 6 almost every day to do yoga or pilates (although, while I was sick we didn't)
- I was reminded why I go to therapy still. And not in a bad way, but because I had an "Aha moment," as Oprah would say.
- Anthony grew a beard and just because I begged him to.
- My sister is one tough cookie, but like a cookie done right, she's soft and chewy on the inside.
- I realized again that my mom is an advocate for those without a voice through her investigative work at the Board of Nursing.
- Terry is bound and determined to keep learning from the School of Life and the World and I think it's inspiring.
- I've discovered some awesome parks.
- I forgot and remembered how much is too much when it comes to me and Alkie Hall.
- Anthony got his Diddy Wings.
- Real life goes on. And on.
- San Francisco is my heart and on my mind.

Year in review - rearview

I know it's a couple of weeks late, but I really wanted to write about my 2008.

Here goes:

My baby turned 1.

I didn't earn $1 outside of the home - first time since I was 15.

I officially joined the underground society of SAHMs.

I breastfed.

I took Hollis to meet his four of his great-grandparents on 4 separate trips.

I traveled by plane with a 5 month old, 6 month old, 8 month old, 11 month old, 13 month old, and 14 month old, and I did it solo 4 of the 6 flights.

I started this blog.

I joined Facebook.

I was able to visit friends in SF and meet their babies.

I traveled to Phoenix, Santa Cruz, San Francisco, and Kansas City.

I said goodbye to Levi.

I witnessed Hollis blossom into a toddler.

I grew closer to Anthony.

I celebrated my 3rd year of marriage.

I lost weight.

I gained weight.

I started back to therapy - although half-heartedly.

I organized our finances.

I continued to say goodbye to my father.

I continued to work on being an adult daughter and sister.

I fell in love with Anthony all over again.

I busted my ass to keep my sanity - and was successful... I think.

I softened.

I developed a full-blown addiction to Perez Hilton (my dirtiest secret ever).

I researched thousands of toys, strollers, baby gadgets, and I still don't have a grasp on any of it.

I let go, while still holding on.

The baby ride

Hollis is the most exhilarating roller coaster I've ever had the pleasure to ride on. He's in the throes of teething at the moment. I think we're up to 7 in all the way, with 2 more ruptured, and a couple more on their way. He's in little baby hell. He gets a few days off, then he's on again.

On his days off, this is a typical moment with him. He's easy going, happy, funny, curious. All those adorable, endearing things babies can be. This particular picture was from our "Summer Photo Shoot." I bought a four seasons baby frame and each season I take a picture of him. Fall has him laying on big orange leaves, for winter he's wearing an ear-flap hat my mom knitted for him, and in spring he's trying to eat my neighbor's winecups. It's so fucking hot here now I couldn't think of a better scene for summer than having him shirtless outside, so here we are assaulting my neighbor's flowers again.

The very next day he was hard at work teething again. I think he clocked in at around 5 pm. I gave him baby Tylenol, some Camilia, teething tablets, frozen wash cloths, and cold chew toys and he didn't want any of it. Even his bath wasn't enough to distract him from his teething and he just screamed and flailed his arms in frustration and pain.

This picture is of him standing at our "coffee table" (an old steamer trunk) ostensibly playing with two new packages of pacifiers I bought that day, however, the play quickly was dissolving into a painful rage as he'd scream and beat and fling the packages. (I say "beat and fling" instead of "play with" because I felt first-hand his little baby wrath on my shoulders and chest with his sharp fingernails and chubby hands as he screamed and kicked earlier that night. This was something he'd never done before. In the past, when in discomfort, he would cry and pat me, but this time, he was crazed with discomfort.)

Poor baby. Seriously. What an ordeal to go through! I remember when my wisdom teeth came in - holy shit! They hurt like hell and I was pretty cranky.

I can't wait for the rest of this ride! I want time to speed up, stand still, and rewind all at the same freakin' time!! The past 10 months have been an inspiring right of passage and I know that every day with him will be another. What a gift life is that as my child moves through growing pains that are challenging and frustrating for everyone I can't see anything but love and wonder in it. And I'm not a rose-colored glasses kind of gal, either. I'm usually a pragmatic idealist, if that makes sense.

But seeing Hollis' range of emotions makes me swell with feeling. When he's raging I feel compassion. When he's hurting I feel sympathy. When he's happy I feel joy. His lows inspire me to be receptive and a soft place for him. His highs elevate me to a new plane of happiness. A friend of mine aptly wrote in his blog that the word "love" just isn't enough to describe what a person can feel for a child. I certainly agree. Hollis' Jack-Jack-like behavior isn't troublesome, it's an opportunity to mother him. ::Mother him:: What a joy that is. - I feel like I need to have a thesaurus nearby so I can come up with some new words for all this happy-happy crap I'm feeling haha. -

Ah, man... I just feel so verklempt all the time. Like I'm always holding my breath or something; waiting for the fairy dust to settle around the unicorns standing outside under my castle window.

I'm a "negative earner"

I've been out of the workforce since April 7th, 2006, or thereabouts. That was the day I hung my shitty-job-hat and put on my do-what-you-love rose-colored glasses. It's been incredible every day since.

The big drawback to this life decision has been, of course, that I don't earn us money. At the time, Anthony and I were making nearly the same. I think he made a little more than me, but with his very thoughtful and responsible withholdings our take home was equal. When we went house-hunting, we were sure to buy a house that we could afford on his salary alone at that pay rate. Luckily, since then, he's been kicking ass and taking names and getting regular pay-raises so we've been getting more wiggle room.

What have I been doing for our financial well-being? Well, I do the finances and figure out what we can spend each week. I do projections for future savings, bill pay-offs, taxes, etc. But I also spend our money. Anthony virtually starves himself from our bank account. He'll splurge on a new motorcycle thingamabob, but only he calls it a "splurge." I mean, isn't that widget for the wheel essential??

I, on the other hand, am a negative earner. By this I mean that I don't bring money in, but I save us money on what we spend. For instance, I buy all the groceries. I also buy gifts for friends and family, clothes for all of us, and various odds and ends for the house. I research almost every purchase over $40 that I make, but I'm still making a purchase in the end. I try to save as much as possible, so in the end, maybe I'm earning about -$500 a month.

I also have put myself on a grocery budget diet. Last year, we roughly spent $600-$800 a month on food. A good 80% of that was groceries, and the rest was eating out (eating out includes delivery in my house). I challenged myself to a $100 a week grocery budget. I have found that I go over by about $50, but there's something really rewarding about stopping by the bank on a Saturday morning to withdraw $100 and then head over to the farmers' market to get my week's supply of produce. - And don't worry, I don't spend $100 at the farmers' market! It's usually about $20-$30 and the rest I spend at WholeFoods or HEB.- So I've cut back our grocery spending by about a third. That's -$200. And we rarely eat out or have delivery. So that's another $-100.

I've been really thinking about all of this these past few months, now that I'm out of school. Staying at home with an infant is hard work, but most days it doesn't feel like it. Because it's rewarding, creative and fun I feel like I'm not doing anything. Of course, this is clearly ridiculous. I know plenty of contemporaries that have told me that they could never stay home with their babies and much prefer having them in day care while they "go to work." To that end, I provide day care for myself and Anthony. That's a whopping -$1000/month.

Oh wait! I do have money coming in a little bit. I've discovered Craigslist and regularly post things to sell. I make the random $50 here and $5 there. - I once drove about 37 miles round trip to drop off a pair of cowboy boots to a woman who bought them for $5. Clearly, I didn't think that one through. - I have some things posted now, for instance. I feel so good when I make a buck! I wish I had more to sell. So, there's some positive numbers for me, too!: $25 a month on average, I'd say.

I feel good thinking about my life this way. It's so freaking hard when people ask me, "Are you working??" to which I respond, "No, I stay at home with my baby," because I k now they mean, "Are you earning money?" What the hell?! Some people say, "Oh that is work!" while most others blithely go on about the conversation. I need to reframe my answers and say, "YES, I stay at home with my baby," and maybe it will help to start changing the way we think about work.

In any case, it looks like my monthly negative earnings are approximately -$1800 a month! Woot! Hell, that's pretty damn good if you ask me!