J'Espere

     After reading that you are probably wondering how you missed the part where my sweet baby, the one who just celebrated a birthday,   grew up. Fortunately, dear readers, you haven’t. She’s still a little bit, though she regularly grows in her sleep, surprising me and Matt in the mornings with a little extra height, useful for things like trying to turn the doorknob on her own or reaching for things from the counter when she shouldn’t.             She has always had a ton of baby dolls- some from when I was little, some from shower gifts, some from Christmas and then one from our delightful neighbor, who is seven and the official “babysitter”.   This is by far the most important object she has ever owned, besides Lambie and Bunny.   She calls her “Baby” and carries her high on her shoulder, gently patting her back. She has adapted quite well to only using one arm to do many things, such as build...

Today a bill will hit the floor aimed at forcing transparency in companies when it comes to salaries. Currently, according to Working Mother  magazine, 68% of married women work outside the home and 75% of unmarried, separated or divorced women do. That's a lot of women working to bring home a paycheck and contribute to their family's security and well-being.  And it's been going on for a long time. I've mentioned this before but my grandmother worked outside the home as a nurse, even after she was married and had kids. My mom worked a good part of my childhood. And I am working. Before I start blasting the people who feel it's okay to pay someone less based solely on gender or race, I wanted to say why I'm working, and maybe why others are working too. There is the financial reasons of course, but since I'm in education I'm definitely not the breadwinner (cue irony). Then there is the idea of a career. I was raised to believe that I should have a care...

                Good news, y’all. Our social calendar is finally filling up again. After months of wondering what we would do with the death of our social lives, we are finally being reintroduced to society. But if you’re thinking it involves margaritas and a late hour, you are mistaken. It now involves high chairs and sippy cups. We are finally being welcomed into the world of baby socialdom.  For you who think it’s a joking matter, think again.                 For a while I worried that SL would not get enough social interaction, since she is at home with a sitter during the day and not with me. I was concerned about the detrimental effect on her long term development and every time she kissed a photograph of a baby worried that she wouldn’t know what to do with the real thing. This is why we started going to Baby Story Time. Baby Story Time is, to put it lig...

    Becoming a parent has meant having to accept certain "situations". Like, one glass of wine with dinner instead of a margarita (apparently babies frown upon hard liquor, or maybe adults do). And when a friend asks you to a movie, you can only imagine a panicked babysitter texting you in the middle of Ryan Gosling removing clothing (don't judge- you know you watch too) to call you home. So you end up staying home a lot more. BUT, and there is a BUT, you become much more in tune with your home. You start really thinking about what it means to be in a home. Equaling a breakthrough.     When I was younger (Oh. My. God. this makes me so sad) my "home" was essentially a crash pad. Trust me, I added things to make it more "homey"- like my fish tank in Greensboro, or posters in Raleigh, or the Carolina gnome that has been mysteriously missing for the last few years. But overall it never really mattered what was happening there because there was so much els...

    Snow days in the South are perfection.Because they happen so rarely we treat them as the glorious gifts they are. Snow days mean pulling out rusty sleds, checking the supply of marshmallows, and cleaning the grocery stores out of milk and bread, though I have yet to figure out why.  What are people doing with all that milk and bread? Or is it that the milk truck doesn't deliver when there's impending snow? Questions that cannot be answered here, unless you know and want to share.     We got the first snow days in a few years here this week. Sunday it was in the 50s and sunny and bright. Monday it went up even higher and Sweet Pea and I took a long walk to prepare for what may or may not be several days inside. Tuesday was freezing and schools dismissed early or didn't open at all (though there was no snow, there was a gridlock situation in 2005 that left people stranded for hours or overnight at schools around the county. Ironically the same thing happened ...

Today, as I was rushing around getting ready this morning,  M. told me to look over at the baby, who was happily entertaining herself before her morning bottle. I did and saw her reading. A book. That’s right. The librarian’s baby was reading herself a book. Everyone thinks their baby is an advanced genius who might save the world or become the next great humanitarian, and I am one of them. I thought since I was in education I could be somewhat more objective but it turns out I can’t be. She’s brilliant. I watched in awe as she lifted the book to examine an illustration and then…tried to eat it. Mouth working over time wondering why that orange fish wasn’t fitting into her mouth.  A reminder that she is still just a little one. Mornings are the hardest part of our day, and the sweetest. Sweetest because SL is usually in a good mood, laughing and smiling and cooing up a storm.  Hardest because I’m running around like crazy pulling together everything so I can leave her ...

                It sounds like a teenage girl’s diary. My first thought was that the second sentence should be “Ken wants to study for the algebra test together. Should I?” But in this case,  I wasn’t worried about Ken, or about the cupcake per se. Sure, cupcakes have more calories than regular food, but I worked that out with marathoning.  What I worried about was SL.  Nursing has brought its own struggles but the real injustice has come from being able to eat so. Much. Food. But not being able to eat dairy.  During the holidays I applauded myself on restraint. Christmas Eve dinner was ridiculous minus the mashed potatoes, rolls, and 5 layer red velvet cheesecake made from scratch (it was seriously an exact copy): . I had fruit.  My plate held a piece of meat, peas, and cherry jello salad- we’re Southern, so jello somehow made it into the same category as vegetables.  And it’s not like the Polar Expres...

Our tree is finally up. It was a debacle of sorts that started at Thanksgiving. On the way to Thanksgiving dinner we passed one of those lots that is essentially a strand of lights surround some fir trees. "We should get a Christmas tree." I commented. "We should get one geographically close to our house." was M's response. On the way home from Thanksgiving: "You know, Christmas is coming pretty soon. We should get a tree." "We should wait not get a tree from there." - M pointing at the same tree lot. In his defense it would have meant driving most of the way home with a tree across our car. Fast forward a week and there is still no tree in sight. "We should get one this weekend. We should all go out to the Farmer's Market as a family, maybe have breakfast...and pick out a tree." That was me living in my fantasy world. Saturday we had a wedding to go to, and SL was a hot mess most of the morning and it was freezing an...

Mothers Beget Mothers It’s a biological fact that we are designed to oppose our parents. Don’t believe me? I challenge you to meet up with an eighth grade girl and ask her how much her parents know. It’s not about the love, it’s about the brain. And the brain says, “No! Don’t let them be right!” Until you have a baby. I spent my middle and high school years scoffing at 98% of what my mother told me about everything. Then I spent college just not telling her about anything. After college I no longer needed advice (fortunately I knew everything) and went to NYC. Then I spent the majority of my twenties listening to her and doing what I wanted to anyway. Then I had a baby. The realization that your sole purpose in life is to keep another human alive is a daunting task. But keeping another human alive and content is much, much harder. Ask anyone with a newborn at 3 a.m. how they are faring. If they were like me, they were probably curled up on the couch watching a small being in a s...