Two Years
Thursday, August 27, 2009

So it's 110 in the shade, my baby is getting her first 2 teeth, we're moving in 3 days and today I tripped over a bouncy chair, an activity jumper and a pacifier. Life is a little hectic right now. But it occurred to me when I opened my email and found that it was time to renew my domain name (aka the website name www.fromnytola.com for those of you who aren't literate in the blogosphere) that I have been writing this blog for two whole years. And while I've been fairly neglectful as of late, I've gotten several random comments here and there that let me know that there are a bunch of you out there that are still reading. (Thank you, by the way. For not neglecting me just because I've become the most inconsistent blogger EVER.) 


When I got my latest email from a friend telling me that they enjoyed my last post (and sidenote - yes, I did add Adam Fletcher as a friend on Facebook. And sidenote 2, I am totally paranoid that Adam Fletcher is going to google himself and find my post...but such is life I suppose. And then are all of you that are my facebook friends going on to my page and checking out Adam Fletcher??? Anyhow...moving on.) As I was saying, when I got the latest email and then got my "domain renewal notice" I realized how much has changed since I started this blog 2 years ago. (besides the fact that I now have a FIVE MONTH OLD BABY. Ummm...how the hell did she get to be five months old already??? Tangent. Sorry.) 

In August 2007, I named this blog "Take Me Back to Manhattan". Need I say more? But while I'd like to be on the east coast a lot more than I have been lately, I can't say that every day I want to be taken back to Manhattan. I miss New York and the east coast and the people in it. And I'll always, always, ALWAYS consider myself a New Yorker. While I still find that LA can leave a bit to be desired in many departments, the weather sort of makes up for most of it. That, and not having to schlep a stroller up and down the subway stairs day in and day out. Have I (dare I say it) gotten used to LA?? Even grown to LIKE it? And do I perhaps consider it home? At least I do for the time being. (aka - still can't commit...) 

What's a good name for a blog about being bicoastal??

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:36 PM 0 comments  

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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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