This Is What I'm Saying

Preschool Birthday Conundrum

2010-10-01T08:41:00.000-07:00

In what is sure to become a regular series of posts, I have to ask: Is My Kid Weird If...

In this case, the "IF" is "If she doesn't want her preschool classmates to come to her 4th birthday party?"

It seems that all of her peers' birthdays are in the fall, and they are all inviting the whole class to their parties. Between now and November we've RSVP'd to events at Pump it Up, Little Gym, a local park and child's home. Julie's birthday is at the end of November (and is a perpetual topic in our home from about April onward). So we've discussed the theme and guest list ad nauseam, and she's adamant that she only wants to invite grown ups (i.e., grandparents and a few close friends of ours who are like aunts and uncles to her).

She enjoys going to other kids' parties, but she doesn't seem to equate that with having a similar event herself. We've always had a simple party with kid food and cake at our house, everyone crowded around the kitchen table singing "Happy Birthday." I've always assumed that she just enjoyed being the center of attention and that not inviting other kids meant not having to share her toys. But is that abnormal? Should we be hosting 15 kids at Chuck E. Cheese next month? I just wonder...

Blowing the Dust off the Place

2010-09-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

So a few things have changed since I last posted here four years ago (good grief). We succeeded in getting me knocked up and now have an almost-four-year-old daughter, Julie. I'm no longer in my 20s and I don't get out much. But despite, or maybe because of, the fact that I've lost my youth, 18,000 hours of sleep and a good portion of my mind, I have more to say than ever. Topics to include:

Sleeping - Julie doesn't do it. James and I would like to. Drama ensues.
Money - Not so much with the having it are we. Stress ensues.
Family - Both sides, 360 degrees of crazy. So many stories to tell. Sneak peek: goats, the "rapture," sugar daddies and short engagements.
Politics - God is great, Beer is good, People are crazy.
Current events - i.e., I read "People" magazine and "gofugyourself" and share insights.
Religion - We go to church and believe in God. But we're not weird or anything.
Food - I love it. I cook a lot, with varying success. My kid eats plain pasta and fruit. Rah.
Horizontal mambo - The kid doesn't sleep. Nooners, anyone?
Love - So much of it among James, Julie and me, thank goodness.

There are so many wonderful bloggers who I admire, and I could never hope to live up to their humor, wit and insight. But I'll try to write here often and see what sticks to the wall. Yee Haw.

Angsty Dreamer. . .

2006-01-23T11:08:00.000-08:00

Anyone available for some free psychoanalysis on this one?

For several years, I've had a recurring nightmare with the basic premise that I'm late to my first class of the last semester of my senior year at Baylor. Sometimes I mess up and go to my Tues./Thurs. class instead of my Mon./Wed./Fri. class. Sometimes I just oversleep. Sometimes I can't find the right building. A few times, I've been late because I couldn't find a restroom and I had to pee (yeah, I drink too much water before bed).

Last night, in a new twist, I dreamed that James accompanied me to my first day of class, but when I got to my religion class, it had been changed to something else. So we had to track down a class catalog to determine where I was supposed to be for class at 9 a.m. And we couldn't find one anywhere. So I missed my first class and was freaking out. Then I woke up.

Why, almost six years after graduating, am I dreaming that I'm late to class? It's always upsetting, and I'm tired of it! My best guess is that the dream represents some underlying anxiety about my life, but I'm not sure what it is. . .

My Brush with Celebrity

2006-01-19T07:52:00.000-08:00

I just noticed that I'm on childsplayx2's blogroll! I am duly honored.

For anyone who might be reading my blog anew (and, as you can tell from my comments, I get TONS of readers!), I assure you that I won't write about my girly bits every day. I have a rich, full life that includes:

A job in marketing for a small non-profit organization
A wonderful husband who also has more to do than just get me knocked up
A love of good books, good red wine, and good country music (i.e., Johnny Cash)
A belief system that is both liberal and Christian (the two are NOT mutually exclusive, no matter what the "religious" right has to say)
A major crush on TiVo
A nerdy obsession with grammar
A whole host of neuroses that will become obvious the more I write

So, see? I'm all kinds of fun. Unless you're a conservative, corporate, non-reader who can't spell, doesn't drink, hates sex and TV, and listens to Barry Manilow all day. Then, I'm probably not so great.

Guess I'm Taking This Class Pass/Fail

2006-01-17T08:34:00.000-08:00

In a rather depressing example of getting a cart and then realizing, "Uh oh, we might not have a horse," I've decided to test the ole ovulation to see if it's actually happening - after seven months of trying to conceive. I've always felt like such a fertile myrtle, but I have heretofore had zero evidence of that assumption.

So, I get to undertake the ignominious task of peeing on a stick every day for a week and surmising vital biological data from the process. I'm anxious about my basic female-ness in a way that I haven't been since I was 12 and anticipating puberty. My inner nerd wants to study for the test, but I can't figure out how. . .

My Ovaries are Losers

2006-01-10T11:08:00.000-08:00

I was SO sure this time, but I'm not pregnant yet again. Apparently my boobs decided to ache just to toy with my emotions - bastards. In between bouts of self-pity, I've been contemplating the following:

-- Once you start paying attention to something, you suddenly see it everywhere.
-- There are some ways in which I am exactly the same person I was when I was 12.
-- God's timing and my timing are sometimes very different.
-- Sometimes you don't know how much you want something until you don't get it.
-- Faithfulness is at the same time a very practical matter and entirely impractical.

Paralysis

2005-12-06T11:05:00.000-08:00

James Joyce is one of my favorite writers. And one of the major themes in his book "Dubliners" is that many people suffer from paralysis of will - they are unable to take decisive action to improve their lives. Joyce felt that the entire city of Dublin was paralyzed by its ties to the Roman Catholic Church and to England.

Anyway, I have been operating (or, not operating, rather) under a Joycean paralysis for the last week or two. I've been slacking off at work, avoiding household chores, forgetting to pay bills, and even scrimping on the finer points of personal grooming. You might not know it to look at me, but I was a real mess for awhile.Over the weekend, as I scanned our dusty, cluttered house, I recognized my paralysis for the first time. First I evaluated my behavior like a critical old aunt: I was a lazy slob who ran away from her problems. Then I considered myself like a mom with an impish child: Life has been really busy and challenging lately, and my coping skills haven't been so good. Weighing both of these opinions, I decided that I am just a big, sloppy, fretful human who freaked out for awhile and took a little hiatus from some of the ickier aspects of being an adult.

But the good news is that I am out of the funk. On Saturday I did several loads of laundry and cleaned house. Today at work I cleaned off my desk and recommitted to being a "good and faithful servant" of my employer. And I am paying some bills and facing our finances like a responsible adult (deep breathing exercises help. so does wine). So if you've missed me here in grown-up land for awhile, hello! And thanks so much to my sweet husband for understanding how I felt and embracing my crazy. I no longer feel like a paralyzed Dubliner, and my only lingering connection to the city is my fondness for Irish whiskey.

Tip of the Day

2005-11-14T11:10:00.000-08:00

Here's a little tip from me to you: Never, ever go to the eye doctor if you have a hangover.

You might think, "Hey, I bet it would feel great if a guy shined bright lights directly into my eyes. And then asked me annoying questions like 'Is it better like this? Or like this?' And then dilated my eyes with drops so I couldn't see. And then left me sitting without my contacts in, so that I'm basically paralyzed because of my blindness, for nearly half an hour."But you would be wrong. (Shudder)

P.S. If you find yourself at the eye doctor while hungover, pray that he's not a Cher fan. Just trust me.

Not So Much

2005-10-26T10:57:00.000-07:00

False alarm. Negativo. Nada. Bunless oven.

I'm not pregnant. It's disappointing news, but we're trying to keep the faith. It has only been three months, so there's no reason to panic yet. Worry, fret, and bemoan - yes. But no panicking.

I Could Be, I Might Be. . .

2005-10-10T13:14:00.000-07:00

I might be pregnant!!!

Symptoms include: food aversion, heightened sense of smell, one day of weird vomiting, tiring quickly when walking around, and weird cramps at the wrong time of the month. Plus, there's the regular, unprotected sex.

It'll be about a week before we know for sure, and we're SO anxious for that day to arrive. We're really hoping that there is a fetus among us!

Mobile Frankfurter

2005-09-20T11:13:00.000-07:00

On my way to work this morning, I saw the Oscar Meier Weiner Mobile a couple of lanes over from me on 635 West. It was oddly comforting. I mean, if even our processed meat products have to make a living, then surely I can handle going into the office.

Good News/Less Good News

2005-09-19T10:38:00.000-07:00

Good news: I lost three pounds last week! And except for accidentally, allegedly having a margarita and a few nachos on Sunday, I ate okay over the weekend.

Less Good news: I'm not pregnant. Despite having never been pregnant before, I just had a feeling I was. I mean, there was plenty of sex (thanks, dear!) and I even inclined my pelvis after each round so that the sperm had an easier swim.

So, under the belief that I just "had" to be with child, I took a pregnancy test on Saturday. And I learned that you don't fully realize how much you want something until you pee on a stick and then find out you didn't get it.

Reasons Why My Name is Angstyjen

2005-09-12T11:02:00.000-07:00

I must lose major amounts of weight as soon as possible.

At church yesterday, a woman came up to me – Put Her Hand on My Belly – and asked me if I was pregnant. I told her I’m not, and she said, "Oh, I guess married life is just agreeing with you."

This is the second time that a woman at church has thought I was pregnant. A few weeks ago, a woman came up to me and said, "Well good morning, mommy-to-be!" When I told her I’m not pregnant, she said, "Oh, well I heard from several people that you were."

I feel like putting a note in the church bulletin saying: "Angstyjen is not pregnant. She’s just fat. And for the record, she gained the weight after going on an antidepressant, and she has since gone off the medication, so YOUR COMMENTS ABOUT HER WEIGHT ARE NOT HELPING THE DEPRESSION THING. Thanks."

Basically I feel like the fattest fatty fat person in the history of people. It’s great. Plus, I really don't want to be thinking about my weight at church in the first place - it's SO not why I'm there.

My low self-esteem is taking a toll on my husband, who loves me and wants me to be sane and happy. Of course, the weight gain itself doesn't thrill him either, and I don't blame him for that. Things are good between us, but the weight issue is a bit of an elephant in the room.

Adding to the angst is the fact that I don't want to be this large when I get pregnant. However, we're continuing to try to get pregnant because we want to proceed with that next phase of our life together. So I'm terrified that when I get pregnant, I'll balloon up to legitimate elephant size. And then I'll never lose any of the weight. And eventually my sweet husband will give up on me, and I'll live in a tiny house by myself and one day Richard Simmons will have to send a crane to remove me from my residence.

Sevens

2005-09-06T11:14:00.000-07:00

It's (close to) the end of the work day, and I'm feeling listy! If you're reading this right now, consider yourself tagged and encouraged to write your own lists!

Seven Things I Plan To Do Before I Die
1. Travel extensively
2. Raise a family with James
3. Celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. . .and our 60th. . .together
4. Write at least one good novel5. Learn to dance well6. Use my talents and abilities to the benefit of others
7. Become at peace with every aspect of myself

Seven Things I Can Do
1. Raise my left eyebrow by itself
2. Shoot a basketball decently well
3. Type fast
4. Quote entire poems
5. Win tickle fights every time
6. Spell well
7. Name all the books of the Bible

Seven Things I Can't Do
1. Roll my tongue
2. Knit
3. Drive the speed limit
4. Take naps with ease
5. Watch certain movies/TV shows without crying
6. Eat green peas
7. Vote Republican

Seven Things That Attract Me To The Opposite Sex
1. Kindness
2. Sense of humor
3. Faithfulness (to God and to me)
4. Dark hair and eyes
5. Having neuroses that are compatible with mine
6. Good kissing and snuggling
7. Being James Pecht

Chewing the Fat

2005-09-02T08:54:00.000-07:00

Actual conversation I just had with my co-worker Stephanie:

J - Do you think that liposuction is on our insurance plan?

S - Maybe if we eat ourselves into oblivion and get really huge.

J - Oooh, then we could get that stomach stapling surgery!

S - Yeah! Then we could eat one bite and throw up. That would be awesome.

J - Sweet.

I love being around people who are as screwed up as I am.

Unpack Your Adjectives

2005-08-31T11:17:00.000-07:00

James and I have long been amused by restaurants with creative adjectives in their names (like El Pollo Loco and El Pollo Feliz). So I was delighted when, on my way to a United Way meeting this morning, I saw a new one: Mr. Loco Catfish.

In addition to the "crazy" moniker, I also enjoy the courtesy title. . .while the catfish is typically considered a bottom-feeder, this is clearly a crazy fish that demands respect.

Sometimes Life Makes You Say, "Huh."

2005-08-30T11:18:00.000-07:00

For no particular reason, here are Ten Things That I Don't Understand. Please feel free to comment or add your own!

1. The fashion trend of wearing a dress over a pair of jeans
2. Forgetting to have dessert
3. Putting a higher value on the contents of a woman's bra than the contents of her brain
4. Decaffeinated Diet Coke
5. Spanking a child to teach him/her not to hit people
6. The entire Science Fiction genre
7. The monthly fee for TiVo
8. Peter Gabriel
9. The notion that you can't be liberal and Christian
10. Vienna sausages

Willy Wonka Has Nothing on Me

2005-08-17T11:19:00.000-07:00

One of those thoughts that I'm glad I said in my head just now and not out loud:

"Huh. Milky Way candy bars are like castrated Snickers bars - no nuts."

Friday Five

2005-07-31T11:21:00.000-07:00

In honor of Slacktastic Friday, I present this list of Five Things I Wholeheartedly Believe. Please respond with your own lists!

1. There should exist neither extra-large nor extra-small thong underwear.
2. Chocolate chip cookies can heal you.
3. If, at the moment a red light turned green, everyone in line accelerated at once, the people at the end of the line wouldn't have to wait to go forward. We should work on this.
4. Reading is FUNdamental. It cultivates humanity.
5. God loves me. He also likes to laugh at me sometimes.

Shh. . .I have a secret!

2005-07-20T10:14:00.000-07:00

Once, I had a secret blog. . .

So here's the deal: I'm willing and eager to say nearly anything to complete strangers. Buy me a drink, and I'll tell you about my PPMD, my gay dad, my body image issues, my fear of failure, my sex life, anything. But mine is a family with secrets. Things We Don't Talk About. Shhhhhh.

So this is my "say anything I want about my life" place. Major themes will include:

-- My weight (right now, not so much liking it)
-- My husband and our life, including our efforts to get pregnant. Specifically, to get ME pregnant.
-- My family and in-laws. Have mercy.
-- My crippling fear of failure and ensuing laziness
-- Politics, and how people who feel differently than I do really are wrong.
-- Current events, books, sports, and whatever else comes up

So, hi! Please like me! But screw you if you don't. But Please Like Me!