Alabaster Mom

Against my better judgement, I stepped on the scale on Monday morning. Not pretty, not pretty at all. I gained around 10 pounds while on vacation. 10 pounds = 3,500 calories, which means that I consumed 35,000 calories. And let me tell you, I burned precious few. The most strenuous thing I did was to walk to the refrigerator to refill my wine glass. Oh, and I may have grabbed a cookie or five while I was in there. I really have no excuse for myself. I've been a member of Weight Watchers for a year and a half so it's not like I don't know how to eat the right amount of food in order to maintain my goal weight. I think sometimes I just get kind of pissy about the whole thing. Why didn't I get my middle sister's metabolism? She can give birth and leave the hospital in her regular jeans. Me, I had to drink Slim Fast for six months in order to fit into my wedding gown. But enough of the pity party. As a Lifetime member I am required to weigh in once a month. I have a few...

We're back from our vacation in Texas. I have a whole new respect for SAHMs. After 10 consecutive days (all day, every day) with my daughter . . . let's just say that she'll be lucky if I pick her up from daycare after work tomorrow. I did take three months of maternity leave when she was born but let's face it - she slept a lot more back then. And didn't talk back. I feel like I'm stuck in a perpetual round of "Opposite Day." Remember that game in school? Someone would declare some random day as "Opposite Day" and then you had to do the opposite of what was requested of you. I tell A to walk and she runs. I tell her to sit down in the bathtub and she stands and stomps her feet. I tell her to stop throwing her food to the dogs and she sends a mandarin orange slice in a perfect arc straight into Gideon's mouth. Here is a small sampling of what we did while in Texas: visited the Riverwalk and the Alamo in San Antonio; visited the Children...

My "Boxer a Day" calendar contained a funny quote from Homer Simpson the other day, so I decided to look up some other good quotes. As Simpsons fans know, there are plenty. Here are a few of my favorites: Homer: Donuts. Is there anything they can't do? Homer: Bad bees. Get away from my sugar. Ow. OW. Oh, they're defending themselves somehow. Homer: The lesson is: Our God is vengeful! O spiteful one, show me who to smite and they shall be smoten Duff book of records: Springfield is now the fattest city in the U.S. Homer: Woo Hoo. In your face Milwaukee. Homer: Marge, I'm going to Moe's. Send the kids to the neighbors, I'm coming back loaded Homer: He didn't give you gay, did he? Did he?!? Homer: Marge, you being a cop makes you the man! Which makes me the woman - and I have no interest in that, besides occasionally wearing the underwear, which as we discussed, is strictly a comfort thing. Homer: I like my beer cold, my TV loud and my homosexual...

We're getting ready to take a trip to the great state of Texas. P and I are celebrating ten years of (something resembling) wedded bliss. So it's a combination "anniversary/vacation/visit the relatives" sort of trip. A has been telling everyone that she is taking a Hairplane to Texas. My to-do list has approximately 2,782 things on it. P's has . . . well, he has no list. He can't remember what I said to him five minutes ago but God forbid he should write anything down. Last night he was working so it was just me and the kid. I was working on packing our suitcases while she dipped random stuff in the dogs' water bowl. She also watched "Favorite Children's Songs" by Baby Genius (the bastard son of Baby Einstein, I think). The funny (well, not that funny) thing is that she has scratched up this particular DVD so badly that when it gets to "Farmer in the Dell" it stops and goes back several songs, to "Old MacDonald." This mean...

Some random thoughts that have been stuck in my head: When you’re paying for something, do not throw the money on the counter. This is just rude – no two ways about it. It’s even worse with coins. There is no reason on earth why a cashier should have to scrape your nickels off the counter. Can you tell I used to work retail in college???? Let’s give you the benefit of the doubt and say that you’re worried about germs and therefore don’t want to touch a stranger’s bare hands. Do you have any idea how filthy your cash is? Also, no talking on your cell phone while you’re checking out. Unless you are a doctor discussing a medical emergency, hang ‘er up. You know your lane is ending – do not wait until the last possible nanosecond to switch lanes (sorry, Pop, I’m talking to you). Do not drive slowly in the left lane. I’m speaking to all the Midwesterners out there who do this. Where I come from, people have been shot for pulling that kind of shit. Do not wait until you are at the drive-up b...

The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that children under two not watch any television at all. I kinda missed the mark on that one - by about two years. You see, I grew up in a home where the first person who woke up in the morning turned the TV on. The last person who went to bed was the one to turn it off. As a matter of fact, my parents still have the same TV that they had when I was growing up. As electronic appliances are wont to do, the TV has picked up a few quirky behaviors over time. Now it demands to be left on full time or you are subjected to a 20 minute warm-up period during which the TV passes through three extended periods of snow. I should add that we are not stupid people. My parents produced three offspring who all have college degrees. What can I say? We just like television. So, I wasn't afraid to let my kid watch television. We bought her some Baby Einstein DVDs when she was four months old and propped her up in her Exersaucer to watch them. I mean, we ...

My daughter will not eat vegetables. This presents a problem because . . . she’s a vegetarian. She does not yet know this, but I’ll be breaking the news to her as soon as she is old enough to understand. I’ve been a vegetarian for 18 years (since I was a teenager). People often ask me if I miss eating meat. I don’t. The only thing I will admit to missing is the Blue Crab of the Chesapeake Bay. I’m from Maryland originally and in my childhood I spent many a Saturday sitting around a newspaper-covered picnic table, carefully picking apart an Old-Bay-seasoning-encrusted crab. I sometimes dipped the crabmeat in vinegar. My Maryland relatives still repeat this ritual regularly. But as for missing hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken and so forth – it’s very easy for me to say that I’m happier without them (what’s in a hot dog anyway????). So how did I get here and why am I dragging my kid along for the ride? I think it began with a gradual awareness that factory farming is barbaric. I mean, it is ...

That was the greeting I got this morning from the wee one. This is technically my third Mother's Day (well the third one for which I was celebrating BEING a mother and not just HAVING a mother). The first one was surreal. A was about a week old and her birthmother had not yet terminated her parental rights. There was a two week period between A's birth and the court hearing. It was stressful in a way that I can't adequately describe even though two years have passed. Anyway, I had waited so long to be a mother and my other half commemorated the occasion by buying me . . . a CD. Last year he "got the message" and got me a necklace instead. He's smarter than he looks. This year Mother's Day started off with an awkward moment. P got me a necklace and it was very pretty but there was just one small problem with it. It was a cross. As in Jesus. And that would be fine except that I have veered off that path a little bit. I am a Unitarian Universalist (I...

My kid bit me yesterday. While I was preparing HER dinner, she came up to me and acted as though she was going to hug my leg. Next thing I knew, a searing pain shot up my spine. This was a “one strike” offense in my book – off to the time-out chair she went. She sat there and cried and looked pathetic for two minutes. It surprises me that it doesn’t occur to her to get out of the chair (which would lead to hand-to-hand combat of sorts with me). She actually stays in it. Poor, wounded little thing. I was wearing shorts so throughout the evening I would periodically pull up the leg of my shorts and say, “See, look where you bit Mama. It’s an owie.” She would then affect an expression look of . . . irritation? consternation? and then pull my pant leg back down. Another interesting development this week – A has figured out that I have other names and that I’ll respond to them. Instead of just calling me “Mama” like she always has, she’s been experimenting with Mom, Mommy, and so forth. The...

My daughter is an only child. Technically she does have a biological half-brother but since she is the only kid who lives in our house, I think that makes her an only child. Apparently this practically offends some people. Even my veterinarian has informed me that I need to get my hands on another child tout de suite. “She needs a playmate!” I hear that quite a bit. My other half and I did not set out to limit our family to one child. Nor did we want to be the next Waltons. Happenstance put us here. We tried to do everything in the socially prescribed way (well, except for the part where we lived in sin). We met (I was in college, he was a Marine), we fell in love, we rented an apartment, we got a cat, we got another cat, we got married, we bought a house, he finished college, we got a dog, and then we got another dog. Then we waited for our baby to come. We began trying to have a baby in 1998. One of these days I’ll take the time to chronicle my entire journey more thoroughly. But the...

A (my kid) turned two last week. This "terrible twos" stuff is not a rumor after all, as it turns out. She now has 17.4 tantrums per day. Yesterday I made the mistake of taking her to the grocery store. She makes up bizarre rules and I am supposed to follow along. She decided that I wasn't allowed to touch the (red) cart handle. How I was supposed to get the cart around the store, I have no idea. "MY RED!" she yelled at me and batted my hands away. :::SIGH::: I am amazed at how quickly kids pick up on advertising aimed squarely at them. She can spot one of the Backyardigans characters at 100 paces. And Dora, don't even get me started on Dora. I think the Dora people are laughing all the way to the bank. A was able to say "Dora" at around 15 months. Our house is littered with Dora figurines . . . oftentimes Dora is without all of her appendages because Gideon (our Boxer) likes to chew them off. On a side note, have you noticed that some of these...

So, here I am . . . the last person in the free world to create a blog. You'd think I would have been one of the early ones. I was an English major in college so it goes without saying that I love to blather on about something (or even nothing). I work in web design for a living so it's not like I don't know my way around a computer. Maybe I just didn't think I had anything to say. But in any case, here I am. Why the title? Well, everything else was taken. I can't seem to define myself in any singular, distinctive way that makes any sense. One thing I can't change about myself is that I am extremely fair-skinned. (And for the record it's okay to call me fair, but pale, white, etc. - that's just rude.) In early childhood I developed an auto-immune condition called vitiligo . When I was 14 I went through depigmentation. So, I'm fair. I wanted the blog title " Desdemona ," which sounds much more romantic, but it was taken.