11/7/09
11/6/09
10/7/09
10/6/09
Got no claim to the name and other stuff
Alright, I know you were all dying to know, the Tell ya what I'm gonna Do thing is from the episode of I Love Lucy where Lucy and Ethel by two sides of beef, then realize it's much more than the anticipated so they go to the local butcher and try to unload some of their meat. Kind of lame, I know, and I have no idea what made me post it in the first place, so there.
I seem to be just going through the motions lately. I don't like it, I'm really trying to pump myself up, but it's been kind of tough. Last week was a baaaaaad week. There was a lot of drama and I feel done. Done with the drama, done with holding on to anger and things I can't change, done with feeling as though I have no control in my life, just D. O. N. E.
I have not gotten to thank you notes yet for Harper's party, it's been two weeks, am I incredibly tacky? I promise, I'll get on them soon, very soon, but like I said I've been feeling bogged down.
On another note, can you do me a favor people? STOP NAMING YOUR KIDS HARPER!!! I'm not kidding, when I chose my girl's name last summer there was not a Harper as far as my eye could see. Granted, I didn't read as many blogs then and I'm almost certain there are Harper's out there older than mine. And I'm totally fine with it. What's freaking my freak is that everywhere I turn now, there goes a Harper.
When I was an Arrowhead a month ago, I was in a darling little children's shop that had a play area. Harper was doing her thing, cruising the area and I was near by watching. A pregnant woman and what I assume was her mother or mother in law walked through the door, the pregnant woman picked up a little dress, held it over her stomach and exclaimed, "You're just going to have so much fun picking out stuff like this for HARPER!" Really? Huh.
And of course there's the much more famous Harper here on the interwebs, I'm sure you all know who she is, her mother 's blog is Kelli's Korner. I would like to point out that my Harper is month's older than hers.
Then there's David Spade's daughter.
And Dave Grohl's daughter.
And Lisa Marie Presley's daughter.
And not one, but TWO! people I know in real life who named there daughter's Harper.
Now, let me just say, I know it's not a contest, I've got no claim to the name, people can choose what ever name they like for their child, but, BUT! when I chose Harper's name, I chose it because it was literary, one of my most favorite musicians in the universe named his son Harper more than two decades ago and I didn't think it would ever become one of those "popular" names. I didn't think she'd be in a class with five other Harper's. I guess I was wrong.
I know she's the best Harper, though, so that's all that matters.
Yes, Heather, I know you tagged me for 7 Things, and I'll totally do it, when I think of seven things I haven't already told the Internet, deal?
I seem to be just going through the motions lately. I don't like it, I'm really trying to pump myself up, but it's been kind of tough. Last week was a baaaaaad week. There was a lot of drama and I feel done. Done with the drama, done with holding on to anger and things I can't change, done with feeling as though I have no control in my life, just D. O. N. E.
I have not gotten to thank you notes yet for Harper's party, it's been two weeks, am I incredibly tacky? I promise, I'll get on them soon, very soon, but like I said I've been feeling bogged down.
On another note, can you do me a favor people? STOP NAMING YOUR KIDS HARPER!!! I'm not kidding, when I chose my girl's name last summer there was not a Harper as far as my eye could see. Granted, I didn't read as many blogs then and I'm almost certain there are Harper's out there older than mine. And I'm totally fine with it. What's freaking my freak is that everywhere I turn now, there goes a Harper.
When I was an Arrowhead a month ago, I was in a darling little children's shop that had a play area. Harper was doing her thing, cruising the area and I was near by watching. A pregnant woman and what I assume was her mother or mother in law walked through the door, the pregnant woman picked up a little dress, held it over her stomach and exclaimed, "You're just going to have so much fun picking out stuff like this for HARPER!" Really? Huh.
And of course there's the much more famous Harper here on the interwebs, I'm sure you all know who she is, her mother 's blog is Kelli's Korner. I would like to point out that my Harper is month's older than hers.
Then there's David Spade's daughter.
And Dave Grohl's daughter.
And Lisa Marie Presley's daughter.
And not one, but TWO! people I know in real life who named there daughter's Harper.
Now, let me just say, I know it's not a contest, I've got no claim to the name, people can choose what ever name they like for their child, but, BUT! when I chose Harper's name, I chose it because it was literary, one of my most favorite musicians in the universe named his son Harper more than two decades ago and I didn't think it would ever become one of those "popular" names. I didn't think she'd be in a class with five other Harper's. I guess I was wrong.
I know she's the best Harper, though, so that's all that matters.
Yes, Heather, I know you tagged me for 7 Things, and I'll totally do it, when I think of seven things I haven't already told the Internet, deal?
9/30/09
*Tell ya what I'm gonna do....
Alrighty, here's a teaser of my girl's first birthday last Saturday. It was awesome, it was a blast, I will never invite 60 people to a toddler's birthday again. Period. That was probably one of the dumbest things I have ever done in my life.I plan on posting more pictures, there's really not a whole lot to write about, it was a party like any other party, you know? So, pictures, pictures and more pictures it is! Hopefully sooner rather than later. FYI, I'm still trying to figure out the most productive way to organize one trillion photos on my computer, so if anyone's got an idea or two, please share cause I'm at a loss.
*Can anyone guess the TV show and episode I got this little gem from? I'm pretty sure it's probably been in a lot of TV shows, but what I'm really asking is can you read my mind? Meh, give it a shot anyway!
9/29/09
nothing new and a lie
I've got nothing new to report.
Actually, that is a big, fat lie. I have lots new to report. Just not feeling up to reporting.
What do you do for the blogging blues?
Actually, that is a big, fat lie. I have lots new to report. Just not feeling up to reporting.
What do you do for the blogging blues?
9/2/09
nightmares
I'm sure this is not news to any of you moms out there... I probably sound like a bit of an asshole, and you know what? I'm okay with that.
Dudes, being a mom is fucking exhausting. Period.
I'm tired all. the. time. I'm tired when I'm sleeping, how is that even possible? And when I go to bed? I can't fucking sleep! What's that about!? I'll tell what that's about.
I have horrible nightmares. Constantly.
When I was a kid my mom told me if I had a scary nightmare that I should tell her all about it because then it wouldn't come true. As a child, I had terrible nightmares. I think I've mentioned this before, Pennywise scared the ever loving shit out of me, so much so that I was afraid to climb out of bed when the lights were out because I thought the minute my tootsies hit the floor his hand, with those long yellow claws, would reach out from under my bed, grab hold of my ankle and drag me under. For real. Until I was like, 12. And the closet, I had to have my closet door closed every night because even seeing a peek of red reminded me of his hair and then I was convinced he was hiding in there, waiting for me to close my eyes so he could snatch me up and take me down to the sewers were THEY ALL FLOAT! Seriously, writing this right now and my stomach is doing major flip flops.
So maybe I was somewhat of a wienie for being afraid of a book/TV mini-series character(who was played by Tim Curry, aka Dr. Frankfurter of Rocky Horror fame! Who could be scared of that dude?), but whatever, I'm sensitive. Geez....
Now the nightmares are different. They don't involve monstrous clowns, it's something much more frightening.
I have nightmares of my daughter dying. I'm going to write one of them out now in the hopes that it won't come true.
I'm sitting at the computer clicking through pictures and saved in one of my many, very unorganized picture files (That's not the nightmare, but how in the hell am I ever going to clean up that mess!? I have no idea.) clicking on the thumbnails to enlarge the pictures because for some reason I can't see them in their smaller versions. Up pops a picture of Harper. She's sitting in a forward facing car seat maybe 18 months old, and though it looks like she may be sleeping, she's actually dead. Her skin looks discolored and as though it could slide off of her bones. There are blisters and burns on her arms, legs and face. She looks weary, deflated, lifeless. She has been left in the car on a hot summer day. And there's a picture of this on my computer. That image, that not real image fucking haunts me. I can not get it out of my head.
I'm pretty sure this one came from an episode of Oprah I had watched when Harper was about a month old. Brenda Nesselroad-Slaby accidentally left her two year old daughter in her car all day. Cecilia died. Brenda said when she reached for her, to pull her out of the car, it was like her skin slid right off. Sorry for the disturbing mental image.
It's just one of the many totally fucked up nightmares I have now that I'm a parent. There are more. She drowns. I accidentally back over her in my car. She's kidnapped right in front of me. Every night when I check on her before I go to bed, for a split second while I'm looking at her I think she has died. There is no breath. She is still, my heart stops. And then her chest rises, and it was only the momentary pause between inhales and exhales. In that moment, a little piece of me dies. Every. single. night.
My heart is made only of tissue paper. A strong wind and it's torn to shreds. It couldn't withstand a tornado.
On a totally separate note, I think there is the slight possibility that I may have developed some sort of anxiety disorder along with parenthood.
Dudes, being a mom is fucking exhausting. Period.
I'm tired all. the. time. I'm tired when I'm sleeping, how is that even possible? And when I go to bed? I can't fucking sleep! What's that about!? I'll tell what that's about.
I have horrible nightmares. Constantly.
When I was a kid my mom told me if I had a scary nightmare that I should tell her all about it because then it wouldn't come true. As a child, I had terrible nightmares. I think I've mentioned this before, Pennywise scared the ever loving shit out of me, so much so that I was afraid to climb out of bed when the lights were out because I thought the minute my tootsies hit the floor his hand, with those long yellow claws, would reach out from under my bed, grab hold of my ankle and drag me under. For real. Until I was like, 12. And the closet, I had to have my closet door closed every night because even seeing a peek of red reminded me of his hair and then I was convinced he was hiding in there, waiting for me to close my eyes so he could snatch me up and take me down to the sewers were THEY ALL FLOAT! Seriously, writing this right now and my stomach is doing major flip flops.
So maybe I was somewhat of a wienie for being afraid of a book/TV mini-series character(who was played by Tim Curry, aka Dr. Frankfurter of Rocky Horror fame! Who could be scared of that dude?), but whatever, I'm sensitive. Geez....
Now the nightmares are different. They don't involve monstrous clowns, it's something much more frightening.
I have nightmares of my daughter dying. I'm going to write one of them out now in the hopes that it won't come true.
I'm sitting at the computer clicking through pictures and saved in one of my many, very unorganized picture files (That's not the nightmare, but how in the hell am I ever going to clean up that mess!? I have no idea.) clicking on the thumbnails to enlarge the pictures because for some reason I can't see them in their smaller versions. Up pops a picture of Harper. She's sitting in a forward facing car seat maybe 18 months old, and though it looks like she may be sleeping, she's actually dead. Her skin looks discolored and as though it could slide off of her bones. There are blisters and burns on her arms, legs and face. She looks weary, deflated, lifeless. She has been left in the car on a hot summer day. And there's a picture of this on my computer. That image, that not real image fucking haunts me. I can not get it out of my head.
I'm pretty sure this one came from an episode of Oprah I had watched when Harper was about a month old. Brenda Nesselroad-Slaby accidentally left her two year old daughter in her car all day. Cecilia died. Brenda said when she reached for her, to pull her out of the car, it was like her skin slid right off. Sorry for the disturbing mental image.
It's just one of the many totally fucked up nightmares I have now that I'm a parent. There are more. She drowns. I accidentally back over her in my car. She's kidnapped right in front of me. Every night when I check on her before I go to bed, for a split second while I'm looking at her I think she has died. There is no breath. She is still, my heart stops. And then her chest rises, and it was only the momentary pause between inhales and exhales. In that moment, a little piece of me dies. Every. single. night.
My heart is made only of tissue paper. A strong wind and it's torn to shreds. It couldn't withstand a tornado.
On a totally separate note, I think there is the slight possibility that I may have developed some sort of anxiety disorder along with parenthood.
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