– Brunch with Mikayla
– Afternoon nap
– Work on the laptop in bed
– Walk to the park, stop and look at every flower bud on the way
– Kiss a boo boo at the playground
– Watch Lucy make best friends with kids she’s known for two minutes
– Teach Lucy how to ride her tricycle
– Make homecooked spaghetti
– Get in to our jammies, make a giant bowl of popcorn, and stay up past bedtime watching movies
Bliss.
Have you all been keeping up on our NYC + KC experiment on the upper left hand corner of the homepage? No? Well, let’s catch you up. My buddy Theresa and I have now been taking a photo each day for thirty-five days, and are hoping to keep this going for a whole year. As each day passes, I find our pictures growing more and more similar. Either they seem to belong together, or I can find some theme intertwined within them.
Note, we’re not telling each other what we’re taking photos of before they are posted, and we don’t look at the other person’s photo until our own has been posted. Any coincidental similarities have happened by a wonderful, fabulous accident.
To see my old favorites, or learn more about the NYC + KC project, click here.
Our loves, sleeping. Also known as, blond siamese twins.
Flowers.
One of my very favorites. On the left is a quote from a NYC street artist, De La Vega, which says “Become Your Dream” on a trash bin. On the right is a wall of old family photos.
Keys and Lu’s shoes. This would mean more if you know T or I personally, because we’re both not very “pink” people, but somehow both had a pink picture.
Fire and water.
Both of us currently think this is our favorite of the series. The way the pictures are of very different things, but seem to blend together, they just seem to fit. The pop of red and serene mood of each photo are as if they belong next to each other.
You can keep up with the NYC + KC project on our Flickr page, here, where we post photos and side by side comparisons daily.
I have to say, this project is one of the most rewarding things I’ve done in 2009, and I’m really proud of us for taking it on. Lately I’ve been thinking of the quote “Creativity is the deepest form of prayer.” I’m not one to believe in too much, but my soul has felt pretty full in the last month or so, and my mind is much more restful than it normally is.
Granted, it could just be a form of self preservation, blocking out all the bad news of the world combined with drinking large amounts of bourbon, but let’s pretend it’s because I’m being more creative, OK? Great.
cialis check my site A few days ago, I was talking to a friend who has just found out she will soon be a mother. Her story is similar to mine; unplanned, unmarried, unsure. Although, she seems to be handling everything much more smoothly and calmly than I was. I belive I immediately went in to shock and then grumped around for nine months about how horrible my life was. She, on the other hand, is taking everything in stride, making plans, but not letting her head explode when they fall through. She is happy. Scared, but happy. For the longest time I was just plain scared. Terrified that I would never be good at this thankless job. That my daughter would end up flawed because of me. That she wouldn’t live up to expectations, but most of all, that I wouldn’t live up to expectations as her mother. That I would melt under the pressure, and take my darling girl with me.
After the phone call from my friend, I sat thinking about how far I’ve come in the last three plus years since the two pink lines on the pregnancy test changed my world forever. As all of my friends have started to get married and have children of their own, I’ve somehow become a sage of parenting wisdom. Granted, my wisdom is usually completely faked and made up during spur-of-the-moment phone calls, but people come to me for advice. Because whether or not they agree with the way I’m raising Lulu, they know I’ve been there before. I’ve sat up nights, wondering if I will ever sleep again. I’ve dropped my kid on her head accidentally. I’ve stood up against mean moms and scary La Leche League advisors. I’ve tried every type of binky on the planet before giving up and letting the kid suck her thumb. I’ve had to say no to old friends because my life is now so different than theirs.
I’ve been there. And while each day changes my perspective completely, I’ve come out of it relatively unscathed. Happy, even. So they continue to call, with questions about swaddling blankets and daycare options and the ever-present mom-guilt. And I listen, trying not to advise, but to tell them my story…what worked for me.
Two weeks ago we moved Lulu from her second hand crib to a brand new “big girl” bed. Going against all expectations, the transistion was completely simple. She didn’t cry, get out of the bed during the night or whine for her crib. She slept peacefully, so excited to be a big kid, and has every night since.
We all make mistakes. No matter if it’s in our own lives, or while trying to shape the lives of others. But despite all of my missteps, I have her. So I must be doing something right.
I had all these big plans to do a live Blogcast of the Oscars, even though early in the day it became obvious I’d be watching on what I like to call “The Kid Delay.” This is what happens when your kid won’t go to bed so you end up watching most shows at least two hours after they’re broadcast. Maybe more if it’s a live show. Damn kids.
Well, as I sat down at 9:30 p.m. to liveblog the Baba Waawa Special, I unintentionally logged in to Twitter, where I was informed by everyone on the planet who had won every award so far. Bastards.
So, let me make a few small points, in lieu of any thoughtful commentary:
1.) Dear Hugh Jackman, Thank you for making my husband laugh during the Oscars. A feat that has never been accomplished in our seven years together.
2.) Milk is an incredible movie and Sean Penn was amazing in it. From it’s first award for best original screenplay, I was so very proud of what we’ve become as a people (even if it is just Hollywood).
3.) I love Mickey Rourke’s style and can’t help wish he would’ve won (in the words of a great Twitter friend, “Prop 8 sez Penn. my heart says Roarke.”)
4.) Both the music from Wall-E and Slumdog Millionaire are amazing. Like, tear up while watching the Oscars, amazing. For anyone who plans to take any type of roadtrip with me in the near future, be aware that this may be our open road soundtrack.
5.) I was so very fortunate to see Slumdog Millionaire this Friday, and while I totally agree with some movies being overrated, I can’t help but give two giant thumbs up to this film. Part of the reason being I could see everyone I know loving it; from my best friends, to my mother (lover of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire), to my conservative inlaws who were the first to recommend it, to my sister to my co-workers. And it makes me automatically smile, thinking about how many have seen this movie not realizing they are cheering for Muslim hero and herione. I know that shouldn’t mean anything to our PC society, but it does. It’s a big effing deal. Seriously, if you haven’t yet seen it, what the hell are you waiting for?
via momo-fali
I really don’t know what’s happened to me in the last year. I mean, I’ve always been sarcastic, cynical, bitchy and kind of a pill to hang out with. Sure, I’ve always had my moments of joy and all that, but in general, I don’t think I’m what someone would call a “happy” person. Not that I wasn’t pleasant or pleased with my life, I’m just not the kind of person who’s going to bop around like Racheal Ray, with a goofy smile plastered on my face and stars in my eyes.
But lately I’ve found myself smiling more than normal. I’ve found the stress that usually gathers in my back and neck has started to dissapate. The winter colds, flu and other ailments that tend to plague me from November until March have lessened and the sicknesses I do contract pass by quickly. I’m sleeping better, my body feels better. For the first time in my entire life, I feel like the outside and inside of me look pretty damn good.
And I’m not quite sure where any of this came from.
My marriage is wonderful. My child is funnier than George Carlin. My weekends are spent painting bathrooms and taking afternoon naps with Lulu. My weeknights are full of good food and drinks, mostly with my family, but sometimes even with friends. My job is fantastic, and when so many people are worried about their next paycheck, I’m in a very safe place. My husband’s business is taking off, and he has started to take steps to better his life, which leads to us being so much happier together. I know all of this is true, because right now I have a cold that is making my head throb and my throat ache, yet still, still I feel happy. I should be pissy and grumpy and tired and an all around pain in the ass. But I’m not.
When did I become a happy person? And more importantly, what the hell am I going to write about now?!
