Ideas of Beauty

As a teenager, I used to look at Seventeen magazine and wish I had blond hair and blue eyes. It must have been something about the 80's, because every model seemed to look the same. Or maybe it's because I wanted what I didn't have. I can even remember this cover, from when I was a senior:

http://www.nikitaylor.org/pictures/seventeen8908.jpg

Okay, so Niki Taylor didn't (and doesn't) have blue eyes, but look at that gorgeous blond hair. I did everything I could to have blond hair. In fact, up until very recently when I stopped getting blond highlights, most people thought my hair color was naturally blond. In high school, not so much. Instead of a well-paid stylist, my good friend Michelle took care of all my hair-care needs.

Once, we bought some haircolor that showed a girl on the box who looked a lot like Niki Taylor. We used it. WHAT A DISASTER. It turned a horrible shade of orange. And back then, it was not cool to have orange hair at school. I ended up going to my mom's stylist, who reassured my shocked mother that she could fix it. But then, I told the woman I wanted my hair color to match my eyebrows, which are very close to black (you know how teenagers can't make up their minds). I'll never forget the looks I got when I walked in school the next day. Why I chose to wear a bright fuschia sweater in addition to that is beyond me.

When I found out I was pregnant, I thought I'd have a good possibility of having a red-haired child, or blond, at least. There's red hair in both our families, and Matt's hair is reddish-blond. I was blond as a child.

Imagine my surprise when, during my "attempted" delivery, the nurses said, "We see the head! There's a full head of dark hair!" I was like, "Are you sure?"

And all my thoughts of having a light-haired child flew away. I absolutely fell in love with her dark hair, not to mention her dark eyes. She is so beautiful I can't stand it, and I wouldn't have her any other way.



So I'm glad she'll grow up with a more diversified idea of beauty. Just check out one of the recent covers of Seventeen with Selena Gomez.

http://blog.beliefnet.com/moviemom/Selena-Gomez-On-The-Cover-Of-Seventeen-Magazine-Prom-Issue-2010.jpg

Now, THAT'S what I'm talking about. Although, when I think about it, she doesn't need to be reading that trash anyway. She needs to be absorbed in Romeo and Juliet or something. Those girls are way too skinny, don't you agree?

A student again...sigh

Not that I don't like taking classes, oh no. In fact, I could easily make a career out of being a full-time student if I had the money. Oh, and if I didn't already have the best job in the world, taking care of this little angel:



(And yes, she IS chewing on the strap to her high chair. Getting new teeth is rough).

This class is for my teacher re-certification, even though I'm not teaching right now. I can't let my certificate lapse and have all that education go to waste. Also, it means I could teach a home-bound student, which pays very well.

The class is really perfect for me. Totally online, independent study, reading interesting novels.

I've finished reading the first book, Evvy's Civil War, and I was surprised that I liked it. Since the target audience is middle school students, I wasn't sure if I would. It incorporates lots of great topics, like the Underground Railroad, the oppression of women and slaves, and the Civil War, of course.

But when I sat down to write my paper on the novel last night, I just stared at the screen.


http://rlv.zcache.com/writers_block_excuses_postcard-p2392451109906411797onr_325.jpg

This is not like me. Not to brag, but I never had to brainstorm or do those silly pre-writing exercises that teachers (myself included) like to require of their students. I just sat down and...wrote. Like I do with my blog. It just flows out of me, for better or for worse.

But this is killing me! I think the problem is, Dr. M wants the paper to be written in first person. What? I've never written something like that, not when evaluating a novel. I have a BA in English, and any of my professors from the College of Charleston would have gladly knocked me over the head if I'd written a paper in first person.

So, I've decided that my writer's block is Dr. M's fault. It's her fault that I'm procrastinating, and it's her fault that every time I see the novel I grimace.

Sigh...being a student is hard.

How far we've come

Audrey is so close to crawling that she can taste it. I don't know the precursor for crawling, but I imagine it has something to do with a baby on her stomach, getting really frustrated because she can't move anywhere on her own. See the frustration?



Okay, so maybe that's more of a confused look, but it's so cute I had to post it.

But she just hasn't gotten it yet. Mom says I never crawled, that I lacked the coordination (thanks, Mom). I don't know if she actually said that last part, but that's how I remember it:)

Mom said I went right to walking, and that I wasn't at all happy until I did. Apparently, she used to sit in a chair while I grasped her finger and practiced walking around the chair. Mom said I would do that for hours. And that's probably not an exaggeration, since I tend to keep at something until I accomplish it. Stubborn? Yes. Driven? Absolutely. OCD? You betcha.

But Audrey's been perfectly content, until now, to just sit in my lap, or beside me, and play. She's such a happy baby. And I looooove it.

Now? Those days are mostly over, unless she's tired. Her favorite activity is to flip onto her stomach and flail around, trying to get somewhere.

If crawling was defined as moving backwards, Audrey would have it down pat. She can back up with the best of 'em. Forward...not so much.

Lately, though, she's been pushing herself into what I think of as the plank position. It looks like this...here I am at the beach in June:


http://www.womansday.com/var/ezflow_site/storage/images/media/galleries-slideshows/get-energized-with-yoga/vinyasa-sequence-plank/43665-1-eng-US/Vinyasa-Sequence-Plank_slideshow_image.jpg

And if you believe that, I've got some seaside property in Arizona I'd like to sell you. I USED to be able to do that, and so much more, but FMS has stolen that from me. Okay, bitterness over (for today).

I haven't been lucky enough to get a picture of Audrey performing this yoga move yet. Is it just me, or is the camera impossible to find when you need it? But I'm amazed by the strength of her legs and arms, this strength that she's developed in just the past 8 1/2 months. And the fact that, even though no one's showed her how to crawl, she's going to do it. Amazing.

Or at least I hope she will, and not be stubborn like her Mommy and go right to walking.

And the "I couldn't care less" award goes to...

my family.

I fell again yesterday. I'm okay (don't panic, now), but it felt as if I'd dislocated my kneecap (patella?) for a few minutes. Hey, at least I didn't get a concussion this time, right?

The fall isn't really the point of this post, though. The point is that, when it happened, all of my immediate family were sitting in my den. You would think someone might come to my aid, right? Yeah, that's what NORMAL people might do. Here's a brief synopsis of what happened:

The family was over to go swimming yesterday. Everyone was in the foulest of moods, even my mom, who would usually have a smile plastered on her face even if she was sitting in a briar patch.

Here are Mom and Michael later at the pool, where you would think the Vitamin D would improve their dispositions. But you would be wrong. Case in point:



Anyway, I open the front door to go outside with my niece to get her flip-flops. Our dog, T, chose this time to come barreling in the front door, almost knocking me over. Whatever, I'm used to that.

The problem is, he was on one of these leashes:


http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml08/08387.jpg

which are really fabulous. Except, have you ever been burned on the legs by one of those as your dog goes running past? That thin part of the leash will sting like your grandma just took a switch to your legs. And yes, I would know.

In order to avert the burn on the backs of my legs, I quickly moved out of the way and slammed my knee into the door. Big mistake, since the burn would've been much better than the knee pain. I fell to the floor, writhing in pain. And y'all, I'm not a dramatic person. I'm the type that says, "Go ahead, I'm all right", if I get hurt.

Do you know what my family did? NOTHING. Audrey had woken up during my unfortunate accident, and they played with her. Matt came to my aid immediately, of course, but COME ON!

I lay there for about 10 minutes, trying to ascertain if I had dislocated my kneecap (if that's possible) or what. So, Noah had to go out the front door in the meantime, and he just stepped over me like I was a pile of crap on the floor. Seriously. He never even asked if I was okay. Then, someone threw him the truck keys, OVER MY BODY. What in the heck is going on here?

If any one of them had fallen, I would have been at their side in an instant! Good grief. I think even strangers would've paid more attention to me than they did. My mom finally came to see if she could get me some ice. Too little, too late, Mom, but thanks a lot.

And sorry, Noah, that my body was in your way when you were trying to get out the door. I could have sworn I heard you huff when you had to step over me. The nerve.

Grrrrr. My family has taken the leap from merely dysfunctional to seriously disturbed.

Parent abuse...from my own child

Dear Audrey,

Darling, I have done nothing but love you for the last 8 1/2 months. You have been my joy and my delight. I know you love me, too. See?



You know how much fun we have. I'm here 24/7, at your beck and call.

But lately, you've been abusing me. You pull my hair, hard, and it hurts, especially when I have a migraine. Whereas before, you used to stroke it gently and lovingly. Can we go back to those halcyon days?

Now, you reach for my boobs, grab my nipples, and twist as hard as you can. Is this some kind of retribution for not breast-feeding you? You know I couldn't, and you know my meds wouldn't allow it. You know I agonized over it, especially each and every time I read that "Breast is best". And every time somebody asked me the inappropriate question, "Do you plan to breast-feed?"  

::side note:: Yes, a man asked me this at one of my baby showers.

But, honey, I'm giving you good nutrition, despite it all, and remember when you had all that diarrhea? I searched high and low for a special kind of formula, otherwise known as The Holy Grail.

Please, baby, treat your mommy right. Otherwise, I'm going to have to cut my hair really short (which is not a good look for me, trust) and design some kind of nipple protector.

Hmmmm....maybe I'll do that anyway. The nipple protectors, I mean. I could call them "Nipple Shield" or something like that, and I'd make millions. Yay. Thanks for the great idea, Bug.

With all my love,
Mommy

Pancake time (and not what you think)

I got a mammogram yesterday. Ouch. If you've had one of these, you know of what I speak.

I mean, they squish your boobs into a pancake. It doesn't seem possible. Then, to add insult to injury, you have to stand as still as a statue (and hold your breath) while they take the pics. You don't dare move, since you'll have to re-do it, and it could also show something in your breast that's not really there. And no one wants a biopsy, right?


https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLw3NGQm6cpClIgAvDcR2vyDfnhFOfJezKnneTB1dBl4pdMb_HVDq-n3u5CjZsnSQYZhN55RASVXY32RAY8KhzJJHuDmkycNyCHqlktRQHnisrYdr1WOWFnXA8mJtsjg0MZZHqqLxm5TbN/s400/mammogram2.jpg

(Yeah, how could I resist putting that picture in here?)

I've had about three at this point, even though I'm only 38. I have a family history (Mom's had it twice), so the recommendation is to start at 35. Joy. I guess it's better than worrying about it, though. But of course, it's always lurking in the back of your mind, after the mammogram, that you're waiting on the results. Just waiting for that note card in the mail to make sure you're okay. Or subconsciously dreading that call that may say you're not okay.

And I maintain that, if men had to go through a similar exam, the men in the Senate and House of Representatives would be pushing for money to research and find a better way to perform them. As my mammogram tech said yesterday, "Honey, if I had to do that kind of procedure on men, I'd quit. After 18 years, I'd be done. Men are babies." So, so true.

Awwww...she finally slept!

Oh, thank God. Audrey took two naps yesterday, and each of them were at least 1 1/2 hours. Hallelujah! Can I get an "Amen" up in here? The child has not slept more than 35-45 minutes for naps since she was a newborn (except for when the salmonella set in, which clearly doesn't count). Yay for sleeping babies!



There's something so peaceful and beautiful about a sleeping baby, isn't there? Besides the fact that you can actually have some time to yourself, I mean.

I can't tell you how excited Matt and I were. We actually began to think there was something wrong because she was sleeping so long, but we were scared to check on her for fear of waking her up. Also, we have the AngelCare monitor (love that thing!), so we knew she was okay. I wish I'd had that monitor from the very beginning, because it has saved me a lot of heartache and worry. Our first one sucked...Graco iVibe...don't get it. Seriously. Don't waste your money. All you can hear is static.

Anyway,  she was a different baby yesterday. She usually has a pleasant temperament, but she was positively radiant. She was bouncing up and down on Matt's knee just for the sheer pleasure of it.

Oh, please let this continue...