Inside Outside Upside Down

Posted on October 12, 2011 | 4 comments

Some posts are about growth.  Some are about things I fear I will forget.  Some I begin with no idea where I will head just to tease out some sense of things that are rolling around in my head.  Some are just a report of the who/what/where/when so that long from now I’ll not forget.  And, of course, some girls mothers are bigger than other girls mothers.

We were supposed to close on our house six days ago.  Six.  Six is not a huge number.  But really quick, for the sake of experimentation, get pregnant, pack up half of your house, most of your kitchen, stop your daily battle against pet hair because you think you’ll be deep cleaning your box-free floors any day now anyway and then just wait.  Wait for six more days.  And maybe for four or five more after that.  Oh!  And if that is not enough pleasure make sure the dryer in the home you rent stops working.  So you have to go to the laundromat.  Because you have wet laundry that will mildew if you don’t.  And then, if you really want to have fun, make sure the light fixture in your dining room stops working so the wood paneled downstairs you have learned to live with is even darker. Continue reading →

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An open letter to the makers of unattractive lady wear

Posted on October 11, 2011 | 11 comments

Dear Hanes, Corduroy Pants, Ugly Sweaters Everywhere, Dansko and October,

Well, bless your heart.  And that’s a real blessing, not a Southern “go fuck yourself.”

This morning I left the house to see a rainy morning.  It was chilly.  But I was toasty warm, from the inside out.  Let’s start with the foundation.

Last week I tried to buy a pair of shoes to lift my spirits and ended up with a Hanes six pack of, let’s call them modest, ladies underwear.  And this morning I was thinking… if the cheap big girl panties feel this fantastic what must the nice ones feel like?  Enveloping yourself in a sleeping bag made of cake?  Pudding?  What?  I can’t even really imagine. Thank you, Hanes underwear.  I had  underestimated you and your low-rise hipster comfort. Continue reading →

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Skateboarding Is Not A Crime

Posted on October 10, 2011 | 4 comments

I got out of the car at work this morning feeling kind of squirrelly.    The…. D’s?  Are we the D’s?  If Mike is MQD and the baby is Baby D, does that make us the Ds?

That makes it sound like only my tits took a trip to IKEA if I say “The Ds went to Ikea.”  And who are we kidding?  The DD’s went to Ikea (we are reaching maximum capacity here in PregnantBoobTown. ) Continue reading →

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Saturday Morning

Posted on October 8, 2011 | 3 comments

It was 6:51 when Fisher’s tail started thwap-thwap-thwap at the end of the bed,  the sound that a dog’s tail makes when he is excitedly wagging his tail against the bed from the prone position.   “Mom!  Did I sleep in? I think I slept in!”

It was about a quarter after seven last night when I felt my eyes get heavy. It didn’t seem fair that I pass out during Friday night movie night,  I had picked the movie, Lily Tomlin’s  The Incredible Shrinking Woman.  But there was no fighting it.  MQD woke me a little after eight and I climbed in to bed.  Continue reading →

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If you go down to the woods today…

Posted on October 7, 2011 | 10 comments

We hit a snag on the closing on our house.  It happens.  We had planned to close several weeks before we needed to move just in case.

My computer at work fried.  That happens, too.  I had my data backed up because it is always a possibility.

Jer’s grandfather had an emergency surgery yesterday, he pulled through like a champ, but it was quite a scare.

I think there was something else that had me blue.  How quickly one forgets… I had a tantrum because MQD “doesn’t like me.”  All in all, I had a shit day.  Nothing permanent.  All things that I had either prepared for, could have predicted or that turned out okay in the end. Continue reading →

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Just like Rock Hudson and Doris Day

Posted on October 4, 2011 | 7 comments

I was reading back through some of my gloomiest posts and it is interesting (perhaps only to me) to note that even though I am pregnant it seems I am down and blue damn near once ever 28 days.  And if my “woe is me” can be tied to some kind of hormonal cycle than so can the rest of my hormone inspired thoughts and desires, right?  Consequently making them a product of my chemical make up, fair game for discussion.

I am a firm believer that a romantic relationship with the person who is truly in your heart of hearts your best friend is a good idea.  But you have to do the work to make sure that your romantic partner is equal parts best friend and  lover, or you slide in to that scary territory of living with a roommate.  There are lots of ways to accomplish this, I think.  Lots of complicated, time consuming ways.  Sexy posing on the bed in the “good” nightgown, not the 15 year old band t-shirt.  Try not to bitch and moan about finances and cook a decent meal.  Don’t change in to sweatpants as soon as you walk in the door.  Shower with the door closed and shave your legs in private and maintain some kind of… what do they call that? mystery?  Make an effort to make absolutely zero jokes related to bodily functions.  But all of these ways rely on another party noticing you sending out these signals. Continue reading →

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Fear

Posted on October 1, 2011 | 12 comments

Fear seems to be a reoccurring theme with me.  I’m not sure if the pregnancy induced insomnia makes me crazy on the inside or if it’s just that I have the time to dwell on the crazy I have already got.  No reason to spend hours dissecting that question, which came first the insomnia or the worrying.  Either way, I don’t sleep lately.  I just worry.  Continue reading →

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Ride on Red Hot Mama

Posted on September 27, 2011 | 6 comments

A long time ago, in a previous life time there were two seasons.  Fall Tour and Spring Tour.  Widespread Panic, of course.  “Excitement on the Side” is actually a line from WSP’s “Bowlegged Woman.”

Long ago vacations were spent in a haze catching as many Panic shows as I could before I returned to work and my relatively more responsible life.  And then I was pregnant (and I still caught a few shows) and then Emily was born and my life suddenly seemed too busy to take a week to run around and  “see a band.”  I caught a few shows here and there when Em was still under a year old.   I can’t be the only music fan that rolled in to a hotel room full of people I hadn’t seen in forever and immediately set up a breast pump.

And then life went from busy to messy with my divorce. I guess some couples have “a song.” Jer and I had a whole god damn band.  It was part of what we did together.  We got new cars when we were pregnant with Em and immediately sticker slammed them and got matching WSP license plates, COCONUTS for me CHILYH2O for him.  You give up a lot when you leave a long relationship: friends, furniture, your favorite sweatpants since they don’t actually belong to you.  But I was determined not to give up my band! Continue reading →

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Long-term Sense Memory

Posted on September 23, 2011 | 1 comment

Last night Jer brought me a box of stuff.   Books I had written in elementary school.  “The Mysterious Furious Hill” is a real scream.  Badges I’d earned that hadn’t made it on to my Girl Scout sash. A report card from the second grade.  A picture of my preschool class at Prince of Peace, circa 1979-80.  I held that photograph in my hand and I could feel  these plastic egg shaped puzzle toys.  I could remember Mrs. Fish at my house.  She let me “fish” out my name tag with a fishing pole.  A magnet, a stick, a string and a safety pin on a name tag.  And thirty-one years later, I remember.

How do I remember this stuff?  We had a wooden iron in the “playing house/kitchen” area in preschool. I know this because I saw a shelf with a row of fingerpaint in yellow and green containers (the Crayola finger paint containers are the same as they were circa 1980) and in the same moment I saw a wooden iron  at Em’s preschool, and I could remember it. As clearly as if it was happening right now. I knew exactly what it would feel like to touch that iron. Continue reading →

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Have you met my wife?

Posted on September 22, 2011 | 7 comments

I don’t talk about MQD an awful lot here.  In part because we are happy and functional.  And that is neither funny nor interesting.  And when I do it is to occasionally mention that he might not find me hilarious in some moment or another.  Now this might give you the impression that he is not particularly funny.  When actually he slays me on the regular.  And roughly half of the time he does it on purpose.

The other night in a moment of classic MQD and Kelly interaction we were having a semi-silent faceoff regarding the television.  I watch horrendous, awful TV often.  Or rather when I watch television it is often horrendous.  So I do my damnedest to not attempt to defend my viewing habits EVER and to make an effort to occasionally flip off the tube and entertain the old chap.  After all he was married to me for all of about ten minutes before I got all pregnant and cry-y and wanting to eat ice cream and watch romantic comedies.   The least I can do is let him hold the remote. Or gasp, turn off the TV if that is his desire. Continue reading →

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