Tales of an 8th Grade Nothing
Sunday, August 16, 2009

In 8th grade I slapped Adam Fletcher across the face. I was about 4'10 and being that he was the star of the basketball team, he was significantly taller than 4'10. Adam Fletcher and I "dated" for about 2 minutes. Dated the way you do in 8th grade.

"Wanna go out with me?" and by go out, he meant be his girlfriend to write notes to, meet at lockers and if it lasted long enough, kiss behind the movie theater on the weekends.

"Sure," I responded, giddy to be the flavor of the month for the star of the basketball team.

I don't actually remember how it was that Adam Fletcher and I came to be an item. But I do remember how it ended. It was a short-lived romance. I don't recall how short lived, but short lived enough that I'm pretty certain there was none of that kissing behind the movie theater on the weekend. I'm going to guess that we lasted about 3 or 4 days - tops.

Adam broke up with me and when he did, he proceeded to tell me that he'd actually never really been interested in me in the first place. He only asked me out to get back at his ex-girlfriend who had recently broken is heart and who happened to be my best friend. And it wasn't that he thought she'd be jealous because he was dating me. He figured we were so attached at the hip that by breaking up with me, he would somehow be hurting her the way she had hurt him. This makes absolutely no sense, but I swear to you, this is what he told me. Or rather, this is what he had the person who broke up with me for him tell me.

I was fuming. I didn't really like Adam Fletcher all that much, but I certainly wasn't going to be anyone's pawn in a stupid game of heartache. And so, I marched my 4 foot 10 inch self into the annex after lunch. I tapped Adam Fletcher on the shoulder as he stood at his locker. When he turned around, I peered up at him and said, "I have one thing to say to you...", I smacked him across the face, looked at him long enough to see the look of pure shock and then turned on my heel and walked out of the annex the same way I had come in. I heard him screaming something after me that I believe included some sort of profanity. But I didn't care. I had shown him I was not a pawn in his game of chess.

My next class was Social Studies and Mr Chiango asked to see me in the hall before class started. It had never dawned on me that I could possibly get in trouble for doing what I had done (which was, in fact, HITTING someone at school.) Mr. Chiango lectured me about how I could have really gotten in trouble but even more, I could have gotten hurt. But before he was done with me, he broke into a smile from ear to ear and said, "But good for you kid." and then told me to NEVER EVER do anything stupid like that again.

I walked back into class with a spark in my step. Even the teacher was thrilled with my decision. I don't think I spoke to Adam Fletcher again for the rest of the year until we were "graduating" from Jr. High. He came and sat next to me on the bus and apologized for being such a dick. And then he told me that I had a "great right hook".

I wonder if Adam Fletcher remembers this story and if he does, I wonder if he remembers it the same way that I do. I wonder if Adam Fletcher remembers anything else about me because I can't, for the life of me, remember a thing about him after 8th Grade.

What made me think of Adam Fletcher? Well, he friend requested me on Facebook recently. It made me think about him and I realized that in my mind, Adam Fletcher is still the little shit who asked me to go out with him so he could break up with me to get back at my best friend. But clearly, that's no longer who Adam Fletcher is. I actually have no idea who he is, but I hope he's happy.

It made me think about perceptions, the way we think about people from our past. I know that I am left with the way that I knew them last. But there is always room for change and I can only hope that people that haven't seen me in ages, who don't know me anymore would leave room for me to be a different person than I was when they knew me. And I can only hope that I would do the same for them.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:36 PM 4 comments  

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No way out but through.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009

I. Am. OVERWHELMED. With a capital O in case you missed it there.

I had a babysitter today. For five hours. Sounds great - right? And I got home 20 minutes before it was time for her to leave...thinking I could eat something (since I am starving ALL the time. ALL. I'm never not hungry. I ate an Indian feast for dinner...still hungry. ALWAYS.) I unpacked the car, walked in the front door and was greeted by the pups. Oh yeah, I thought. I have dogs. They need to be walked. Dogs first, eating second.

So I walked the dogs and when I got back in, I decided it would be much faster if I put the car seat and strolled in the car without Evvy in them. So I did that. Dogs, then stroller, then eating. But then I came back in and realized I HAD to change because I was broiling in my outfit. Dogs, then stroller, then change, and then I'll eat. But then I realized it was 1:57 and my sitter was only here until 2 and we had class at 2:30. So eating didn't happen at home.

No. Eating happened at McDonald's. What? You didn't hear me??? MC-freaking-Donald's. That's what I ate today for lunch. Because I was so hungry I was starting to see stars and there is NOT ENOUGH FREAKING TIME IN THE DAY TO EAT ANYMORE. So I ate McDonald's and thought. "Is this really my life? Eating McDonald's on the run???"

Did I mention we're moving? Yeah - in 3 weeks. Oh and did I mention that this just happened a few days ago? So no - I wasn't exactly prepared for it. So we're moving in 3 weeks and my babysitter is going back to college and there is SOOO much crap to do and on top of it, the sleep training, which in general is going amazingly well, seems to have caused me to sleep LESS because I wake up now and feel the need to check on my child since she is no longer waking me up during the night. Ummmm - isn't that the OPPOSITE of what's supposed to happen? I thought her sleeping through the night was supposed to equal me sleeping through the night. Instead I'm starting to feel catatonic. Why am I sitting down to write then? (you ask this because I haven't written more than twice in the past four months. normal question.) BECAUSE APPARENTLY AS SOON AS BEDTIME ROLLS AROUND I'M WIDE AWAKE. Yup. I was up from 12:30 AM to 3 AM last night. Wiiiiiiiide awake. Just as I am now at 10:52. Thinking of all the things I have to do because as soon as I cross three things off my to do list, 5 more pop into my head.

And about that sleep training...Did I mention the fact that I am now being tortured because my daughter initially took to sleep training so well? Yes. She learned to sleep in no time. However, being so well rested allowed her the energy to finally roll over. The problem? She rolls over in her crib and while she sleeps fabulously on her back, she hasn't figure out that she can put her head down while she's on her stomach. So of course, Like the good mother I am, I've been going in and rolling her over and within seconds, she's asleep. But today, it was pointed out that she needs to learn that she can sleep on her stomach. And the only way she'll learn that is if I let her figure it out. Letting her figure it out = much crying in frustration. There goes my good mother theory down the drain. So tonight, I let it go on for as long as I could stand (she fell asleep on her belly for about 45 minutes before waking up again and WAAAAAAAILING) and then I did it - I rolled her over. Two seconds later she was fast asleep. I just couldn't stand it anymore. Tomorrow night I'll try again. I'll let her be frustrated. But I'd had it tonight...I needed to give her a quick fix.

It struck me as I was thinking about this whole process - this is life. You have to cry in frustration before you figure it out. No one can tell you or figure it out for you. They can't protect you from it or do it for you. You have to do it yourself to really learn. And most of the time that's accompanied by a lot of frustration (and often some tears as well.) It doesn't matter if you're learning to roll over, figuring out how to ride a bike, learning how to be in a relationship, trying to get a job or going after the things you've always wanted most. It's really quite simple. You just have to keep reaching through the frustration until you get there. And as long as you don't give up, you will figure it out. So while she cries in frustration as she learns a new skill, I'll have to breathe through my frustration and let her.

Dogs, then stroller, then change, the McDonald's...then breathe. I'm going to try to the move that last one to the front of the list...right after I make sure I eat.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 10:43 PM 0 comments  

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The wishes that can't come true...
Friday, July 31, 2009

I've written this post in my head so many times over the past 2-ish years but tonight, I just felt the need to actually put pen to paper (so to speak...and btw, I love the idea of actually putting pen to paper these days. The computer screen is so bright...)


My friend Stacey is on a plane to NYC right now. She wasn't supposed to go until Tuesday. But she got that phone call  - the "you need to come now" phone call. She got the phone call I got 2 years ago, the one I chose not to act on because I'd had my "last" visit. But Stacey hadn't yet had hers - it was planned for Tuesday but it needs to be tomorrow instead. I don't know why talking to Stacey prompted me to write when other moments have not. The brief conversation we had on the phone tonight brought emotions flooding for me.  Maybe it's that I feel uncannily connected to Stacey.  Maybe because my grandmother's birthday was this week and I can't bring myself to take it (or her phone number) out of my blackberry. Maybe it's because the circumstances surrounding Stacey's trip felt all too familiar and because Stacey's relationship with her grandmother seems so similar to the one I had with mine. Maybe there's no reason that it's hitting me right now specifically.  There's not much to say in those moments so I just shared what had brought me peace in those final weeks - that my grandmother wasn't comfortable anymore and that it didn't matter how much we were all going to miss her (terribly beyond words) - because her life wasn't what she would want it to be. And so, while it was painful to see her go, it was best for HER. I said it without a quiver in my voice, but I hung up the phone and for the first time since my grandmother's unveiling last September, I cried that she was gone. 

A few months ago I brought Evvy to Massachusetts for the first time. And when I walked into my parents house, I had the oddest sensation. I had to remind myself over and over that my grandmother wasn't here anymore because I kept having this overwhelming desire to pick up the phone and call her to say that we were here the way I always did when I got home. I've often missed my Grammy, but I've rarely wished her back - except in that moment. She would have loved Evvy - not just because she was her great grand-daughter - but because she has great pulkies (as my mother-in-law says, "her rolls have rolls!") and she has great spirit. At 4 months old, this kid has chutzpah that can rival the best of them. 

I wish she could meet her. I know in my heart that she knows her - probably more than even I do at this point. But tonight,  I wish her back just for a moment...

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 8:32 PM 1 comments  

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Stream of Conscious
Thursday, June 11, 2009

Do you ever wonder what it was like to be a baby? I stare at Evvy and wonder what's she's thinking and wonder what it must be like to be her. I can't fathom being that little and depending so completely on someone else to make sure that you are cared for. The whole thing blows my mind. Watching her discover her hands, her mouth, her laugh...everything is new to her. That must be amazing - to have everything be new. I suppose I'm living vicariously through her because everything with her is new to me.

Why do you think it is that we don't remember what it's like to be a baby? That we don't have memories that early? There has to be some sort of reason for it - everything else in this whole process of having a baby has a reason - so there must be one for that too. Although I'm certain it's not as scientific as the reasons behind most of the things that happened while I was pregnant and having a baby. But our bodies just know how to do so many things without having to learn or being told...so I'm guessing not having memories as a baby is something our bodies do for a reason as well.

When I started thinking about my earliest memory, my first year of pre-school came to mind. Those are my earliest memories - when I was 3. They're vague most of them - flashes of people and pictures of places. I remember driving up to the house that my parents now live in and sitting outside looking at it. I must have been 2 1/2 at the time actually because we moved in before my sister was born and she's a little bit less than 3 years younger than me. I sat in the backseat of my mom's blue car - a chevy maybe? My mom was in the driver's seat and my grandmother was in the passenger's seat. I have such a vivid picture in my head of sitting outside the house and leaning forward while we all peered at the new home we would be moving into. That's it - just a snapshot...but I remember it. I wonder if it's even real.

And I wonder if the memory of my nursery school car pool where I screamed at the boy who got in the car to "Get up. GET UP!! You are SITTING on Wonder Woman! YOU ARE SQUISHING HER!!!!" is a real memory of my own - or simply one that I remember from hearing my mother tell the story so many times.

Why are certain memories so vivid for some and non-existent for others - even if they shared the same experience? What will I remember to share with my daughter about this time? (I was supposed to be writing it all down but I am certain that I will remember to tell her that there's no time for that.)

Sometimes I want to freeze this moment - where my child still needs me. The moments before she finds her independence. I know that I can not and so instead, I just breathe it all in deeply and stay present. And I stare at her and wonder just what is going on in that beautiful little head. And I believe that I will remember these moments forever.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 11:03 PM 2 comments  

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The things you think about...
Saturday, May 23, 2009

Three teenage girls walk into the pool - probably 13? Maybe 14. Slightly awkward but cute. They look around, as though they are trying to scope out a spot...and then one of them yells, "Dad!" and goes over to the pool to talk to her father. She introduces her 2 friends to her dad and I glance at the baby girl sleeping soundly next to me. My baby girl. Who someday (in about 13 years to be exact) will be a teenage girl too.

I find myself looking at her and thinking "I was that little once" alternated with thoughts of "one day she's going to be 33". It's sort of insane. How do babies turn into adults?

I've watched my nephews grow up. The oldest is now 6....I guess when you watch it happen, it makes sense. But it's still hard to believe.

I wonder who she's going to be. Whether she'll like chocolate or vanilla. What will her favorite song be. Will she be a tomboy or a girlie girl? Will she want to be a movie star or president? (Can't help but hope for the latter...)Or will she want to travel the world or be a teacher?

I can't wait to find out. And when she's 13, I only hope she won't hate me and she'll still think I'm cool. The 13 year old girl at the pool definitely still was into her Dad. At the end of the day, that's all I really want.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 1:34 PM 1 comments  

Doody Day
Monday, April 27, 2009

That's the name of my blog post from yesterday. The one about the fact that every time we changed Evvy's diaper, 5 minutes later she made ANOTHER doody and we had to change it again. Oh wait. You didn't read that post because I never got around to writing it. It lived only in my head along with the other 35 posts I've written but never actually written about being a mommy and having a child and just about life in general. 


But then today came. And the title of yesterday's post was oh, so apropos. Not because the same thing happened all over again today, but because today was, in fact, a shit day. How does one not feel like a bad mother when they are told that onions could give their child gas but they decide that the small amount of onion that's in the recipe they make is small enough that it won't matter.  Because let me assure you - IT MATTERS. I singlehandedly put my daughter through gaseous pain all day. And because she was in such pain, nothing satisfied her. I couldn't put her in my carrier, I couldn't put her in the sling. She only wanted to be held. But that didn't slow me down. No sirree. I was still DETERMINED to get that laundry done, put the dishes in the dishwasher, and every other anal retentive thing that you might think a mom at home would do. At 3:41 PM I looked at the clock, thinking I had another hour before my chiropractor appointment and realized I needed to have left 5 minutes ago since I was walking there with Evvy. 

I don't know when it happened but somewhere in the process of leaving the house, I did something to my back. So much so that when I started walking and pushing the stroller, I questioned whether or not I would be able to make it the 10 or so blocks I had to go to get to my chiropractor. However, the little person in my head (who, by the way, I've been having endless conversations with as of late. Sometimes this person even speaks out loud to Evvy) said that walking would be good for me. I agreed and so I soldiered on. So I said to myself as I winced with each step, "Well what am I supposed to do if Evvy needs to be carried all day and I have stuff to get done around the house? I mean, seriously...am I supposed to just sit and hold her?" And the person in my head paused for a moment and said, "Yes. That's exactly what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to forget about the laundry and the dishes and whatever other minutia you were dealing with when this happened, and you are supposed to just SIT and hold her."

Do you know what I said next?

"Oh."

Because the person in my head was so right. Humbled, I made my way to the chiropractor where he proceeded to adjust me in all sorts of insane ways and then he gave Evvy some belly massage to help with the gas too. 

As I hobbled around the house this evening and my back started spasming, I thought about how ridiculous it was that I had to hurt myself to learn that I need to slow down with a 5 week old. Yay! Good for me...I'm out and about with my little one... everyone is so impressed with how well I've adjusted! But apparently Little Ms. Type A hasn't adjusted as well as she thought she had. So my body slowed itself down for me. 

Lesson learned. I'll take a doody day over a shit day any day. 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:56 PM 4 comments  

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Adventures in Babysitting...Oh Wait.
Thursday, April 9, 2009

That's how it feels sometimes. Like someone's going to come home and ask me if everything was ok, how the baby did, did she eat, did she cry a lot, etc. etc. But that's not going to happen because the baby is actually MINE. And the baby is a she. 


On March 20 at 7:25 in the morning, I gave birth to a little girl. My husband almost passed out when the doctor announced, "It's a girl!" It sounded exactly the way it does in all the movies and tv shows because really, there's no other way to announce it except to do it that way. My husband comes from a family of 2 boys. His brother has 3 boys. Everyone pretty much thought it was a boy. Some people determined this because of the way I was carrying. Others decided that because of my husband's family history, it was a given. I was up in the air the entire time and in the last two months decided that it was entirely possible that it could be a girl. He, on the other hand, didn't even know what that meant at first - like a girl was another species or something. It didn't take him long to learn, however. Because the truth is, when you look at your child and you realize this is YOUR child, you find places in your heart that you never knew existed before.

Evvy and I (that's her name - Evvy. That's 2 v's just in case any of you have the concern that my mother-in-law had...that it looks like Ewy when you type it on the computer. And apparently one of my sister's friends thought her name WAS Ewy so my mother-in-law isn't so crazy after all). Anyhow...what was I saying? Mommy brain is worse than pregnant brain btw. I fear I am completely LOSING my brain...but don't really care at the same time because I figure if it's important enough, I'll remember. And these days that pretty much includes making sure my kid is fed and changed and warm and dry. Anything other than that doesn't really matter. 

So Evvy and I have been on several outings. Apparently this is considered very brave for new moms. We went to a mommy and me yoga class this morning. It was our first. When I was asked how old she was (almost 3 weeks) the other moms looked at me and said, "Oh, she's your second?" 

"No, she's my first."

"Oh, is this your first outing alone with her?"

"No - actually, she came with me to get my eyebrows waxed and to therapy last week, and this week we've been to Barney's and to the Pump Station (there's truly a place here called the Pump Station and for anyone living in LA, it is an INGENIOUS resource for new moms.) And she's been to a few of our friend's houses for dinner."

They looked at me dumbfounded. I gave them the same look back. (Not really - we started chatting and everyone was really quite lovely.)

But they truly were shocked at how much we've been out and about. To me, there's not really an option. I don't do all those things in one day and when we do go out, I'm usually in desperate need of a nap upon return (which I just woke up from) but I figure I might as well get her used to being out and about since that's the kind of people we are. Out and about people.  

It has resulted in some fairly humorous moments. I truly thought I was in a movie last Friday. I couldn't have written the scene better myself and I'm sure it's appeared in a least one tv show if not a film or three as well. We were taking a trip down to Pasadena to go to Right Start because sadly they are going out of business - but that means amazing discounts and as you know, I'm a bargain shopper. My husband had a meeting that morning and asked if I needed help getting the stroller in the car before he left. For those of you who aren't familiar with the Graco "snap and go" (ummm...that would be me about 2 months ago...) it's a stroller like apparatus that your car seat just "snaps" right into and then you can "go". We'd used it around the neighborhood a few times. I told him I didn't - that I was sure I could figure it out. 

Well, I was most definitely wrong. I strolled Evvy out to the car and was feeling fabulous because this was the first time she wasn't screaming in the car seat. I was running a little late since I had not yet quite learned to factor in timing for going places with a baby. I snapped the car seat into the back seat, threw my very chic Stella McCartney for LeSportsac diaper bag in the front (I felt the need to include that because I'm trying really hard to still be fashionable while carrying a DIAPER BAG), and went to break down the snap and go stroller to throw in the trunk. But this was not the easy task that I expected it to be. Five minutes later, Evvy is still content in her car seat but I am sweating and swearing and feel like I'm about to have a meltdown because I can't get the freaking stroller to collapse. So I do the only thing there is to do - attempt to get the entire thing in my trunk. I tried several different angles, all to no avail. I look at my kid in the back seat, who appears to be looking back at me although all the books tell me she can only see 8 inches in front of her. I look at the stroller. I make a snap decision to be a HORRIBLE mother already and I lock my kid in the car and RUN as fast as I possibly can with the stroller to our front door and put it in the house. Granted, the car is parked right in front of our house, it's not 100 degrees out or anything - but really...I feel like I've broken the first rule of parenting 101 by locking my kid in the car. I sprint back to the car, unlock it, get in the back seat momentarily to make sure my baby still has all 10 fingers and toes and still isn't screaming...and off we go to bargain shop. 

See why I called this post adventures in babysitting? 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 5:16 PM 6 comments  

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