Saturday, March 08, 2003

Oops. Missed the Friday Five yesterday. I was actually busy doing home improvement work on our laundry room. It's such a nice pretty yellow now. It'll make doing the laundry much nicer. I hope!

Anyway, my Friday Fives are (were):

1. What was the last song you heard?
That really weird "Whatever" song. For those who don't know, it's a punk song that sounds like some guy made up in his garage as a joke. It seems to be quite a cult hit, though because on the radio, they had different versions, including a guy from West Hollywood and George Bush. Whatever!

2. What were the last two movies you saw?
Lord of the Rings 1 & 2. I never thought I'd enjoy a movie like that, but oh, my God! The effects in that movie are amazing. And of course, there's some very nice eye candy with two of the main characters. I read the Hobbit as a kid, but never got into the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I want to read them now, but I also don't want to spoil it for the third one when it comes out next year. I liked having no idea what was going to happen in the first two.

3. What were the last three things you purchased?
Baby shower gifts for my friend; baby food for my daughter; Wendy's spicy chicken.

4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?
Laundry! Since we've been working on that room, the laundry has suffered. I also need to return some clothes, go grocery shopping and clean the shower.

5. Who are the last five people you talked to?
My husband, my daughter, my old boss, a very nice boy at Babies 'R Us who went out of his way to get me a coupon, and person at the take-out window at Wendy's.

Thursday, March 06, 2003

My sister and I shared a room until we were teenagers. I remember we slept in a double canopy bed that had a canary-yellow bedspread and ruffle at the top. We had some good times in that room, but also had our share of fights.

During the good times, we'd play with Barbies or Matchbox cars, we'd create general stores and libraries and doctor's offices for our friends. We even tried to rearrange our room because we were bored with the set-up. The bed was quite a challenge for us as little kids, so we brainstormed about how to move it. We knew our dad used a dollie to move heavy things and wondered what we could use that had wheels to move the bed. We came up with the ingenious idea to use our roller skates. One of us lifted each leg of the bed while the other placed the leg inside a rollerskate and tied them up. When the time came to move the bed, we were pretty excited about our plan. So we each took a side, counted to three and pushed. The whole bed just moved a few inches as it lurched sideways and fell off the skates. Foiled again! My mom thought it was pretty funny, but also pretty smart. We were crushed. We thought our plan would work. But I guess my mom was right. You can't skate in the house!

During the bad times, we tried what every kid does when sharing a room. We tried to divide it straight down the middle, which is hard to do when sharing a bed. "Get off my side!" "Your pillow is too far over!" "Move your feet!" And inevitably, it didn't work. One person would get the closet, but the other person had the door to get out of the room. During those times we begged and pleaded to have separate rooms. But in the end, I'm glad we didn't. We definitely wouldn't have been as close as we were. I know this because we aren't as close now that we don't live near one another. We wouldn't have learned about sharing and conflict resolution and the simple lessons of getting along with others.

My husband and I have talked about what to do when we have another child. Will they share a room or have their own? We have the space, but I think I'd like for them to share a room. Just for a little while.

Wednesday, March 05, 2003

My favorite relative when I was growing up was my Aunt Glenda. She's had an interesting life: was married at 15; had a child at 16; divorced and married 4 more times over the course of her life. But I think she's done phenomenally well considering how young she began her adult life.

She's done so many things: she ran a beauty salon (she cut, colored and styled my grandma's hair until the day my grandma died); she was a real estate agent; she creates dried flower arrangements; and now she helps manage a bingo parlor with her husband. She has a beautiful house -- far bigger than any the of the rest of us in the family -- and very nice things, including an electric baby grand piano that I would love to have (if I had the room for it).

The reason I liked her so much growing up was that she was so much fun. She always took us shopping or listened to our problems. She had the greatest shoe collection that made us feel pretty fancy. We thought she was pretty fancy. She always wore nail polish with sparkly rings. She wore frosty eye-shadow and lipstick, even if she was just sitting around the house. She dressed in what they call "resort-wear" which made it seem like she was always going somewhere.

Since I was little, she's always done so much for me and our family. She traveled for miles to go to weddings. She made sure I always had a place to go for the holidays when my parents were far away. She gets excited to see pictures of my daughter and really seems interested in my life. I don't think I've ever told her how much she means to me, but she's pretty special.

In case you're wondering where all of this came from, it's one of the topics on the questions that I'm asking my mom. So far, I've found out some interesting things that I never knew about my mom: she was a waitress when she was 15; she worked at Woolworth's (do they even have those stores anymore?); and that her favorite book was Gone with the Wind. I'm interested to see what other tidbits of information I find out as we go along.

Tuesday, March 04, 2003

Well, my day yesterday wasn't filled with walks in the park, but I did manage to clean the bathrooms (I hate that job ... I just wish I could have a maid come in just to clean my shower and toilets!). And I did spend hours of mindless TV watching "Married by America." Why do I get sucked into these things?

But I do have to say that I had a great time with my daughter yesterday. She's at such a great age where she's starting to walk around by holding onto tables, chairs, walls, anything that will give her support. I think she's very proud of herself because she gets excited and starts bouncing up and down. I swear, yesterday, her feet actually left the ground. It still amazes me that she came from me.

I think she has to be my greatest accomplishment in life. I can't believe that the human body can create an actual little person. It's astounding. And it's definitely a testament to the strength of women to go through birth. I tried my best to do it naturally, and survived about 6 hours with my Lamaze breathing after having my labor induced before I had to give in and get the epidural (I still can't believe how little you feel with those things). I also lived through the pain of recovering from a c-section. (If someone tells you they'd rather have a c-section than have a normal delivery, they obviously haven't done it!) But to tell you the truth, the pain was really insignificant. It really is true that once you look at your little one, anything that happened in your life before that just disappears.

I know as she gets older, every accomplishment she makes will bring me such great joy that I get choked up just thinking about it. What made me get so misty today? Just watching her sleep during her nap today. She always looks like those scenes in old movies (like Doris Day pictures) where the person looks kind of fuzzy and airbrushed. She clutches her blanket for dear life and her hair sticks up from rubbing against the sheet. She's just so great!

Monday, March 03, 2003

If I could have any job in the world, I'd want to be a famous novelist. I'd love to write stories that make people laugh and cry, maybe gasp at times (but not in the bodice-ripping romance novel sort of way). I'd love to create memorable characters that people remember from generation to generation.

My problem? I procastinate way too much. I have all these great ideas in my head that I'd love to get down on paper -- characters like the 70-year-old biker with a yellowing beard and an old German-style helmet that rides his high-handle-barred Harley with pride; stories about haunted trains that only the railroad hobos know about; short stories about motherhood; a memoir about my grandmother. But do I write any of these? No. I have the best intentions, but I just either get lazy or scared that I can't do it, and I don't.

How great would it be to spend my days creating stories that move people and to get paid for doing something I love? I know I should put this time of job-searching to good use, especially now that my contract job is done. Maybe today I'll actually do that. I just have this sneaking suspicion that my day will be filled with a walk in the park with my daughter, some neglected chores around the house and hours of mindless TV. I wonder which part of me will win out. I'll let you know tomorrow.