girlfiend

Last March we cleaned out our junk/storage room on the third floor to make it a guest room and make the guest room the Fiendling’s room. I spent the following month up on a ladder painting while the Fiendling napped downstairs in the driveway, running up and down the stairs every ten minutes or so to check on him from the second floor. It wasn’t the greatest month.

In the clearing out process we photographed and listed a ton of stuff on Craigslist and various messageboards, some of which sold, most of which did not. In the mix were a ton of clothes that I decided that I’d never wear or never fit into again. Eventually we had to move the stuff that didn’t sell into the basement and closet, figuring we’d try again in a few months.

By December it was time for the stuff to go. I had some second thoughts about some of the more expensive items of clothing and put it aside, but in the end we donated about $600 (thrift store prices) worth of clothing in size 0 and XS, stuff I was confident would never fit me again. You know where this is going, right?

It turns out that just a few short months later I lost the rest of the weight. By February I’d lost all of the Fiendling weight too.  I now weigh less than I did at my wedding. Aside from a few stomach flus and the great breakup of 2003 I am the skinniest I’ve ever been. The shirts aren’t a huge loss. My ribcage is permanently a size larger and those teeny tiny XS shirts are either 6 inches too short or, if I can get them on, busting at the seams. But the pants? Fuck. I don’t have a single pair of pants or shorts that fit me right now. This is not a problem I plan on complaining about. It’s just that I know that this extra-skinny me won’t last. I’m sure that as soon as I stop nursing full time some of the weight will come back and the a few pounds will sneak up on me over the summer when the recreational drinking resumes full-force. At some point my pants will fit again and will probably even be too tight again. But until then I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to spend money on a summer wardrobe that I could very likely grow out of by July. I hate the idea of buying shorts, pants and skirts that I’ll be dpressed about not being able to wear next summer. I guess there’s always Old Navy.

Saturday night we went to the wedding of one of Boyfiend’s colleagues. The DJ was pretty bad,  and because of the song choices we didn’t dance much. Most of the dance floor was occupied by men and women in their 60s sporting the white man’s overbite.

Towards the end of the evening the DJ slowed it down and stopped playing Will Smith songs. We danced to what we thought was the last song. As the dance floor emptied the DJ got back on the microphone and announced that there would be one last song. The first few notes of Hava Nagila sounded and I turned to see the groom seated on a chair being hoisted by a few guys. Boyfiend ran over to help. The bride was standing on the other end of the dance floor and no one knew what to do. Figuring I was the only Jew in the room I decided to take action.

I grabbed the arms of the strangers closest to me and told them, “This is the part where we dance in a circle.” They looked dumbstruck, but I pulled them along and  others joined in. Once the circle was going I grabbed the bride and pulled her into the middle of the circle, swinging her around. I told her, “Now you get someone else.” The dancers stopped moving when I was in the center with the bride so I tried to get the circle moving again. People started stumbling around again. The bride had caught on pretty quickly and was dancing in the center with someone else so I grabbed the groom’s mom’s and dragged her in the middle. She looked slightly terrified, but went with it. The song ended not too long after. Relieved that my job was done I went to the ladies room to hike up my strapless dress, which had fallen to completely expose my left breast.  (That’s not why the groom’s mom was terrified- I was wearing a sweater over it, so the exposed breast was my little secret.)

The bride came over and thanked me as we were getting ready to leave. I don’t think she’d ever seen the Hora in action before, because if she had she would have known how unsuccessful my attempts to organize were. Luckily she seemed genuinely thrilled by it- she was still a little breathless from the twirling.

It’s not easy being the only Jew* in the room.

*I later learned that one of the groomsmen was Jewish, which is why they started the hora, but after getting the groom off of the chair he checked out from the festivities.

The Fiendling has been a complete shit about going to sleep the past few days/weeks/who-the-hell-knows-how-long-it’s-been. It’s maddening because he knows he’s having trouble falling asleep and is torn between wanting me to help him fall asleep and trying to get out of falling asleep. His stall tactics include needing a diaper, being hungry, and insisting that it is not bedtime it is morning.

He goes back and forth between wanting to sleep upstairs in his green room and wanting to sleep in my bed, but in both locations he wants me to stay with him until he falls asleep. If I leave or try to leave he screams, begs, pleads and cajoles or he blatantly leaves his room and comes downstairs. The most irritating part is that the other night, when B was out, Mix came over to help me with the boys and successfully got the punk kid to bed in about 20 minutes. Show off.

Is there some sort of common three year sleep regression I don’t know about? *** Yes! It is nice to know it’s not just me, but at least Moxie’s kid would stay quietly in his own room. Mine has a full library and a fucking train table in his room and he freaks out at the very suggestion of playing quietly without me.***

The garden is doing well. The strawberries are thriving, even  the two plants we thought were goners are coming back to life. The blackberry bushes, which looked even deader on arrival than the bare root strawberry plants, are showing little bits of green despite the fact that we still haven’t put them in permanent containers. The first round of seeds I planted directly in the boxes, lettuce, spinach, broccolini and peas have mostly sprouted. The peas are the slowest of the bunch- I only saw two that have officially sprouted, but the broccolini has grown about an inch since yesterday.  If the wildlife doesn’t get them first, it looks like we’ll have home grown spring vegetables.

I got pretty drunk at book club last week. Mixing red and white wine is never a good idea.

Lora at Jakezilla has bestowed upon me The Proximity Award for blogs which: “…invest and believe in Proximity; Nearness in space, time and relationships. These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and to be friends. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to 8 bloggers, who must then chose 8 more and include this text into the body of their award.”

This was awarded to me well over a month ago. I am, as usual, a little late on the follow through. But since I appreciate the award I’m going to pass this award on to some other bloggers.

1. Kim at The Yummy Mummy Cooks Gourmet- The stories about her girls are hilarious. All of the tampon and maxi pad art make me even more grateful to have boys. But her recipes are where it’s at. I want to cook like her when I grow up, and my children like it. Kim is going through a rough time right now, but her writing hasn’t suffered.

2. Gina, The Feminist Breeder- I got to “know” Gina through posting on my not-nearly-as-batshit-crazy-as-the-last-one baby board. On the board she had very strong opinions (that I mostly agreed with! remember this picture?) and never failed to offend someone (who inevitably deserved to be offended) with her opinions. Her blog is smart, funny, and opinionated.

3. Stefani at Blue Yonder has a beautiful blog. She’s a mom to three boys and her creativity is endless. Her writing is inspirational, and if bored, jaded me refers to someone as an inspiration you know it must be good. She almost makes me want to homeschool.

Speaking of inspirational, I’ve inexplicably started reading and enjoying a few Christian bloggers. Ordinarily I wouldn’t admit to this, but it seems to fit into the theme of the award. I mean seriously, me? Jaded, Jewish, trucker-mouth me reading Christians? It makes me wonder what the hell is going on with me, but instead of reading to mock I’m reading because I’m interested.

4. Crystal at Money Saving Mom has, as the blog name suggests, saved me a ton of money. The weekly coupon match-ups have helped cut my grocery bill in half. Thanks to her daily links to giveaways I get a ton of free stuff in the mail, from granola bars to reusable bags. (Her other blog, Biblical Womanhood, is the one I’m always surprised to enjoy.)

5. Sara at Walk Slowly, Live Wildly is the other Christian blogger I really enjoy reading. Her blogging has been sporadic, lately, but when she writes it’s worth reading. I’m most impressed by how she’s able to live such a green existence, how she’s able to so effectively minimize the impact her family makes on the earth. (Thanks, E for turning me on to the blog.)

Getting away from the religion, here are a few more. My children are losing patience with me so these will be brief.

6. caro at new pants is a good writer. I like her blog.

7. Punky Mama lives in my neighborhood. I see her and her two boys at the playground.

8. Mrs. T at Chuchería reminds me of why I both miss and don’t miss teaching.

So there you have it. Check out these blogs if you’re not reading them already, and thanks Lora for the award.

Remember the last time I posted, about a week and a half ago, when I said that the previous week had been the longest week ever? I was wrong. Last week, when Boyfiend and I were both sick with the same damn things the kids were miserable with the week before was the longest week ever. Last week, when we should have been drinking and gardening and gallivanting and generally just enjoying each other and margaritas, we were feverish (me) and sinus-infected (him) and just plain miserable taking care of kids that were pretty much fine.

We made it out of the house for seder on Wednesday and dinner with friends on Thursday but we really weren’t ourselves. Then we had Easter festivities on Saturday but neither of us were well enough to drink and enjoy them. Yesterday was the first day I felt almost normal. Boyfiend is still on the mend and I still have a touch of the old whiskey and cigarettes (fine, phlegm) voice and now spring break is over and he’s back to work.

Somehow Boyfiend managed to suffer through his illness and put together and fill the Square Foot Garden boxes. We have one box planted with strawberries, lettuce, spinach, and broccolini. The two remaining boxes are ready to be planted. The basil seeds I’d given up on finally sprouted and I have more seeds to start and more to plant after the last spring frost. I haven’t yet plotted out the remaining garden boxes, and I have more seeds to order. I think I’m going to try fava beans and watermelon in addition to the plants I’ve had success with in the past.

Today a woman walking down the street complimented me on the tulips in my yard. They really do brighten up a rainy, miserable day.

This has been the longest week since the last week we were stuck inside all fucking week because the kids were sick. Only perhaps this week has been longer because I haven’t had anyone around to give me a break so I could get out of the house. Boyfiend worked late just about every night this week and my mother has been back at the shore so I have been on, solo, all week long with two cranky, crying, needy children.

First the Fiendling was sick and miserable and now the baby who is never miserable is sick and miserable. A trip to the doctor this morning revealed that he is miserable because he is sick and teething at the same time. The one year molars, not an ear infection, are the cause of his suffering and misery which means he’ll still be miserable, only hopefully to a lesser extent after the hacking cough, runny nose, and low grade fever bid us adieu.

The good news is that while I am currently being subjected to the 42nd viewing of the computer game Thomas and the Special Delivery I am typing this from my laptop. I finally gave in an ordered the AC adapter that wasn’t covered under warranty. And we have tulips. The tulips in the front are starting to bloom. So far we just have red, but the orange and yellow will follow soon. And the best news of all is that today marks the beginning of spring break so Boyfiend, when he’s not off fishing and sailing and enjoying himself, will be here to give me the break I so desperately deserve.

The theme for April at nablopomo is Growing Up. I don’t know that I’ll actually sign up for the challenge, but April is a good month to talk about that particular subject.

I have basil seeds not yet sprouted on the kitchen windowsill, a birthday gift of two green bean plants sprouted beside them, and several packets of seeds that need to get in the ground quickly. The plan is for three Square Foot Garden boxes- two in the proper 4×4 set up and one longer 8×2 box. That makes 48 squares altogether. With 9 spinach plants in a box, 16 carrots per box, 4 strawberry plants, etc. we’re in for a lot of food this summer if we (or the wildlife) don’t fuck it up.

Right now in the backyard or the garage (I have no idea because I haven’t left the house in 36 hours) is a package of 25 strawberry plants and a blackberry bush that I hope haven’t died yet. We haven’t yet gotten the garden boxes together, and by we I mean Boyfiend because I am not the one physically sawing and hammering, but we do have the ingredients for our Mel’s Mix and by this time next week we’ll hopefully be on our way to a proper vegetable garden for the summer.

My writing here has slacked over the past few years because of the writing I do at the other two blogs that pay me to write. Only it’s been close to a month and I haven’t been paid for February yet so I haven’t really been writing over there either.  I just haven’t been writing. I’ve been thinking about writing but not following through. Part of it is the timing. The only time I can really write uninterrupted is at night when the kids are in bed. But by that point I’m tired and still have to clean up the kitchen after dinner, finish the laundry, put the toys away and all I really want to do is have a drink. In fact, right now, at just before 10am, I’d really like to have a drink.

Overall I’m pretty satisfied with my life right now. Things are good. I like my husband and my kids and I’m glad I get to stay home with them while they’re young. But I feel boring. I feel like unless it’s related to domesticity I have nothing to say anymore. I used to have plenty to write about and talk about and now it’s all diapers, grocery shopping, laundry, coupons, sleep training and breastfeeding. I’m not depressed. I like my life, but thinking about it, and answering the question, “What have you been up to?” is depressing.

I don’t mind the routine. I’ve gotten good at coupon clipping and grocery shopping and managing the cleaning, laundry and cooking while getting the kids out every day. We go to the library and gym class and the playground, Please Touch Museum and the zoo. I bring them to the babysitting room at the gym so I can exercise. We go to the bookstore and toy store by special request and my kid understands that we’re going there to look and play, not to purchase. I’m doing a good job with the kids. They are happy and sweet and know how to interact with people and behave in public.  But my god, talking about it is so fucking boring.

What am I doing? I’m a housewife. I stay home. I cook. I clean. I change diapers. I wash diapers. I read stories and create elaborate train track layouts. I have serious conversations about the superiority of Costco to BJs. I used to be fun. I used to be edgy. I wish I had more to say.