can you hear me now?

My day today started at 3:30 a.m. Actually, it started before that - I was woken up, on and off, by Jimmy's frantic head shaking. See, Jimmy has chronic ear problems. Because he has floppy ears, he tends to get yeast infections (yeah, that's right) in his ears because of food allergies. And because we are sometimes lazy dog owners, we don't always buy the super expensive food, and we don't always keep up on his ear cleanings, which should take place at least three times a week.

But the thing is, cleaning Jimmy's ears sucks. I used to do it all the time, but since Jane, I have more or less unceremoneously passed on that duty to Greg. But it's gross. Surprising, I know - digging dirt and yuck out of your dog's ears is not the best way to spend your free time.

Which leads us to last night. Greg had cleaned Jimmy's ears before he went to bed, but it did no good. It was too late and it had gotten too bad. Jimmy was shaking and shaking and shaking his head, so much so that we were thinking maybe something was stuck in there. So, many many hours before dawn, Greg decided to take young James to the 24-hour vet to get the situation checked out. I thought we could wait it out; he just wanted to get it over with.

Although I was exhausted, I couldn't go back to sleep. When I started to drift off, either Jane would start wimpering or Junior would start whining to go out. Then I would start thinking about work. I was up for the day before 5 a.m. And the bonus was, Jane decided to sleep until 7:30 a.m. today - WHICH SHE NEVER DOES. This was like, world-record late sleeping for her. The rest of us were up hours before.

Because Jimmy is Jimmy, his triumphant return home featured a slew of medications and a large bill. This is his ear regimin now:

• 3/4 of a pill three times a day. That's right. Three Quarters Of A Pill. Meaning I need to break the tiniest of pills into quarters. Luckily the pills already come in halves, so I only have to halve the half, but good Lord if I don't want to do that three times a day



• Ear drops twice a day



• Foaming ear cleanser followed by foaming ear drying lotion every three days

Does anyone want a free dog?

and the heavyweight champion is....

Jane!

This is a bit of a cop-out post but I'm tired and I just got home. So I will update her stats for you after her 15 month appointment yesterday:

Weight: 22.4 lbs
Height: 31 inches

New skills since last appointment:
Walking
Babbling/talking
Not sleeping

Things to work on:
Sleeping
Getting beers for Mommy

Lisa made me do it

OK, Lisa challenged those of us who have been struggling with coming up with things to write about to compose a "10 things" entry every week. This week she wants us to write about our 10 favorite websites.


The list below reflects the websites, AT THIS MOMENT, that I visit the most. This could change at any given moment. Any second, really. Like the internets, it's always changing. Here we go:


Babble - This website is "the magazine and community for a new generation of parents." See, we parents like to pretend like we're still cool, so we visit websites like this. I LOVE this site - lots of entertainment news, fun blogs, great product suggestions - plus, it's all done with a sense of humor that is lacking in so many parenting sites. It doesn't take itself too seriously.

Facebook - Ah, Facebook. You're killing me, with the way you suck up time. But I love it, because how else am I going to broadcast to all of my friends that I'm tired, or hungry, or bored? And no doubt everyone wants to know!

Dooce - Dooce is the giant amongst parenting blogs. Written by Heather Armstrong, it's a fairly irreverent look at parenting, family life, and her emergence as a blogging celebrity. Also, she posts daily pics of her dogs Chuck and Coco. What's better that that?

New York Times/CNN/Yahoo/MSN - The sources of my political angst. These sites will be hit the hardest in the next few days, and then hopefully I can give them a rest.

The Weather Channel - Are you going on vacation? I'd be happy to look up the forecast for you! In the winter, I have no better internet friend than weather.com. I'll refresh that 10-day forecast until the cows come home. Or the snow comes down. Or whatever.

Broadway.com/Playbill - I am a theater nerd. This is a huge surprise to all, I'm sure. These two sites make me sound smart when I'm talking about theater stuff. 'Nuff said.

Finnian's Journey - Since I've been blogging like a maniac as part of "31 for 21," I thought I'd recommend a fairly new blog written by a woman who recently had a baby with Down syndrome. Lisa has six children, and this past summer gave birth to her son Finnian. Her blog is a brutally honest look at the unexpected journey she is taking with her new son. It's very compelling reading.

Gawker - Snark to the max - this is why I love Gawker. For all the news in the New York media world, Gawker is one-stop shopping.

Sweet Juniper! - This is a blog from a stay-at-home-dad's perspective, and it's great. Really smart writing from a guy who left his job as a lawyer to stay home with his daughter Juniper a few months after she was born. Since then, he and his wife (who is also a lawyer) have had another child, a son. It's an interesting perspective from a family raising children in one of the most dangerous cities in the United States, Detroit. As a bonus he is a phenomenal photographer.


Cry It Out: Adventures of a stay-at-home dad - Another blog from a stay-at-home-dad. Mike Adamick does a really hilarious, sometimes cringeworthy job of connecting his life growing up to that of his daughter's, Emmeline. Read this post for an example. He doesn't post very often, but when he does, it's always excellent. Unlike most of my posts these days!

CT vote NO!

I know we're all fired up about the election next Tuesday - or is it just me? - anyway, don't forget to VOTE NO on the first question, which will ask you if you think there should be a Constitutional Convention to amend or revise the state Constitution. Because this is just a vehicle of people who want to take away gay marriage, ban abortion, and other rights that are so, so important.

Click here for more info.

good morning

I am not what you would call a morning person. I never really have been. These days I roll out of bed around 5 a.m., rush to get ready for work before Jane wakes up (these days she's been getting up so early that Greg often has to get up too, so he can watch her while I finish getting ready), get Jane ready for the day, feed her, play with her, drop her off at daycare (although Greg often does this), then go to work. By the time I'm at my desk between 8 and 8:15 a.m., I feel like I've already lived an entire day. I've also already usually consumed a decent amount of Diet Pepsi by this point, because that's how I get my caffeine. I can't even imagine getting through the morning without a chemical boost of energy.

On the other hand, when Jane gets up, she cannot wait to start the day. I've barely picked her up out of her crib when she wants to get down and get going. She usually first heads over to her bookcase and starts flinging out books, chattering away. Then she starts with the imaginary phone calls on her play phone. She doesn't even want to waste time getting her diaper changed. She's got STUFF TO DO.

I want that. I want to wake up, ready to go. I want to have Jane's super-enthusiasm that another day has begun. If she could talk, I think she'd say "Holy crap! We get to do this again! We get a whole new day! Whoo hooo!!!!!!!!!"

I wonder if it's even possible. Is it possible for a 35-year-old who hasn't gotten a decent night's sleep in a berzillion months to wake up with that kind zest for life? I don't want to be cranky. I don't want to need the caffeine. I want to be psyched that it's a new day. I AM psyched that it's a new day - it's just that my brain doesn't know it so early in the morning.

I'm going to work on this.

I cant take this anymore

I figured I'd throw the old lady a bone and share some of my thoughts with you blog people, I understand all this yammering is for some type of charity. So much has happened since last time I chimed in a year ago. Frankly, I've been so disgusted with all that's been happening round here that I've found it hard to get out of bed.

First off, the little brat is walking, and her parents are all a ga ga over this. HELLO MOST EVERYONE CAN WALK. They are really setting the bar low for this kid. If you ask them they will say "Jane is talking". That is a load of crap. Waving while uttering ba ba and pointing to the old man and saying da, is not talking. She points at everything and says da, the dog, the sink, her breakfast, the couch, come on people, give it up. They think she is saying goodbye, but she waves and says ba ba to her diaper champ, I've seen it. By the way, who are they kidding with that thing. Suffice is to say, the Daiper Champ is by no way airtight.

The kid is the least of my problems. The old man is way worse, Sundays have really gone down hill since Tim Russert passed away. Now all he watches is Star Trek. Star Trek is like 50 years old, why can't he just watch football like everyone else? I hoped they might use the boat more often and get the hell out of the house, but miss Jane, being 14 months old can't exactly hang out on the docks without ultra-close supervision. You don't have to be Einstein to figure that out, but the old man hasn't gotten that one down yet. You would think after Jimmy jumped into the water last month the old man would get it. James spent a few minutes trying to figure out if he should hang himself or drown, before the old man lugged him out of the water. Maybe I should get the old man to tie me up on the dock, "where it's safe".

Junior is actually ok, but has some how reverse-sinked his clock with Jane. If Jane is asleep at 3AM, Junior is awake. Have you ever had a great dane, who hasn't brushed his teeth in 5 years, breath on you at 3AM? We're sure this is why the old lady is such a basket case, on the off chance Jane doesn't require supositories, rocking, soothing or diaper changing at 3AM, it's a sure bet that numb nuts dog will want to go out.

So lets see, have I touched on every one of our glamorous characters? Why yes, I have. Isn't it shocking I don't blog much?

I'm in a bad mood

so I am cheesing out today and posting a link to another video. But it's pretty awesome, so there's that.

Will Ferrell and Tina Fey. What's better than that?

four years

I got hitched four years ago today. In my memory, it was probably the most perfect day of my life.

in response to your comments

Yes, [title of show] is a great show. Yes, it was on Broadway. Yes, it closed after three months.

BUT hey, at least it made it to Broadway. And with the style of the show the way it is, and the economy the way it is, I'm surprised it lasted that long. It's just not the type of show that was ever destined to live a long Broadway life. It's only four people, it doesn't have the bells and whistles that your Wickeds or Lion Kings have - and for $100 a ticket for the best seats, people really want the bells and whistles. (Or, as we say in the biz, "they went away humming the sets.") Lots of shows are closing now, including Legally Blonde the Musical, Spamalot, Hairspray..so at least [title of show] is in good company.

Junior keeps on keepin' on. I have NO good Junior stories for you right now! And since he is the Number One Pup Of All Time (tm), the fact that he keeps himself out of trouble doesn't surprise me. He is currently taking a well-deserved nap, after a long day of napping. But here's a pic instead.

What is the definition of a "meme"? Is it basically just a quiz or something? Anyway, I checked out that link you sent, Lisa, and I will definitely attempt it in the future. But writing about ten things I'm loving right now would only come across snarky or something, especially after the day I've had. So I'll hold that for a future date, where I can be more sincere.

21 for 21

Whew! I've made it through 21 days of blogging so far - only 10 days left! I know you've all be glued to your computer screens, wondering when my next enthralling entry will pop up.

I regret to inform you that it won't be today, because I am drawing a blank on blog topics. I think we've covered all that is on my mind these days:

*The Election (check)
*Jane's various sicknesses (check)

Yup, those are the two top things that keep me up at night.

So, anything else you want to know?

the great pumpkin

Way back BR (Before Roseola), we went out to Lyman Orchards to pick out a pumpkin for Halloween. Jane was pretty weird and exhausted that morning, and just a few hours later, she would be in the throes of sickness. But, hey, at least that morning was nice.

this made me LOL for reals

Seriously, I had tears running down my face during the moose part. I think I've watched that part ten times now.


Amy Poehler does Sarah Palin.

I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille

buh-bye

(aka sick day, part 6)

Yeah, Jane's still sick. Well, actually she seems to be feeling better, but that rash is still all over.

But today's blog posting is not going to be about Jane's sickness. Instead, I will tell you something really cute she did today. Recently, she has been building up some words - "ah duh (all done)" when she's done with a meal, "uh oh" when she drops something, and now "buh bye" which she has been doing frequently lately, complete with frenetic waving.

So this afternoon, while we were walking out of Target, she started waving and yelling "buh bye" - which I thought was just about the best thing that has happened all week.

bonus post for today

I didn't watch the debate last night, as there was no way I could possibly stay up that late after the day I'd had. But of course I read up on what happened first thing this morning, and of course heard about McCain's "zinger" about how he's "not George Bush." And the second I read that, I thought to myself, "it's like he spoon-fed an ad to the Obama campaign."

And here it is.

SICK DAY, PART FIVE.

Yes, I'm shouting a bit in the subject line of this post.

I was able to go in to work at the ass-crack of dawn to get some much-needed stuff done, and got home at 12:20 (Greg has meetings this afternoon and tonight, so I had to come home to take over Jane duty). I noticed Jane's rash had definitely intestified and spread since last night. So I made a call to the ped's office and they squeezed us in at 12:30, right before their lunch break (yup, I had 10 minutes to make an at least 15 minute drive - that crazy lady with the baby you saw literally running through WHC? that was me). The doc looked her over and determined - or at least, made his best guess based on the timing of her symptoms - that she has roseola, which is basically a common ailment for babies that features high fever, high fever, high fever, no fever...then RASH. Sounds familiar, huh? Not sure about the puking, because that's not typical of roseola.

Anywho, she has this horrible rash from head to toe. He gave her some Zyrtec (sp?) and said it should go away in a few days. Of course the bonus is, when he checked her ears he thought they looked a little pink. Not red enough to give her the drugs and make it go away - just pink enough to suggest that an ear infection MAY be on its way. He said if the fever comes back in the next couple of days, to call him and he'll call in the prescription.

But, hey! Remember when all of my blogging was supposed to help support Down Syndrome Awareness Month? And how, instead, all my posts have been all "woe is me" and shit? Well, I have another site to recommend to you. Days with Dylan is written by mom Laurie, whose son was born almost four months ago. He was diagnosed with Down syndrome and also has to have heart surgery in November. Despite this unexpected news, Laurie writes a very optimistic and entertaining blog about her family, which also includes a two-year-old daughter. Worth checking out, I promise!

sick day, part 4.

Jane stayed home with Greg today because I absolutely had to go in to work. When I got home I found that she was covered with a full body rash. A last-minute call to the doctor told me that it was probably the end part of her virus; that it sometimes manifests into a rash like this. It was too late to bring her in, so it's not an official diagnosis, but that's what he thought. She is, understandably, completely miserable still.

Me? Yeah, me too.

Words kind of fail me at this point.

sick day, part 3

I don't even want to write about this anymore. Last night was a complete disaster - Jane seems to have a perfect storm of stomach bug, fever, and big-time teething (molars coming in). This all resulted in SCREAMING - non-stop, nerve-shredding screaming - throughout the day today. I ended up working from home and not going in, and I was only able to do this because the other girls in my department were able to pick up my slack. I HATE the fact that I couldn't go in - after many years of working for my parents, I have a pretty strong work ethic, and hate leaving people hanging. This is the worst part of being a working parent - the choice is extreme guilt for staying home with a sick kid and not being at work, or extreme guilt for going to work and not being at home with the sick kid. Today she was in way too much agony for me to go in, and luckily, I was able to make that choice.

I feel pretty beaten down, though. It's frustrating never feeling like I'm doing enough, in one part of my life or another. Of course, the massive lack of sleep over the past few nights isn't helping either.

Aren't you glad I decided to blog for 31 days?

sick day part 2

So, Day Two of Jane's sick-o-rama was just delightful. It started at around midnight with her waking up and throwing up, then repeated again at 3:30 a.m., and then 5:30 a.m. Her temp has gone up and down from 99 to 102 all day, and she's been so clingy and sad. Her mood seemed to be better this afternoon, but then she crashed again tonight, and her temp went up again to 102, which is scary to me. We went to the doctor's office today and they basically just said it was a viral thing, no ear infection, thank God. But still, I have no idea when she's going to get better, and as mentioned before, I really cannot miss any work this week, if it can be at all avoided.

I'm going to stay with her until about noon tomorrow and then go into work, and Greg will handle the rest of the day. But nothing gives you a dose of major mommy-guilt than heading out the door when your baby is sick. It just makes me feel like crap.

And the week goes on...

sick day.

So Jane has some sort of bug which has given her a pretty decent fever, stomach sickness, lethargy, etc. Poor thing woke up miserable and it has continued all day. Just put her to bed, still with a fever and overall yuck. I feel so badly for her. I don't know why it is I look forward to the weekends; something like this always happens.

In the back of my head I am getting steadily concerned for the upcoming week. Although I have tomorrow off because of the holiday (and will no doubt end up in the pediatrician's office), this work week coming up is one of the busiest I've had in months, and it's not the kind of week where I can work from home - it'd be totally impossible, in fact. And knowing that it usually takes a couple of days to catch a stomach bug, that would mean it would hit for me on......Tuesday.

My primary concern is, of course, for poor Jane. I hate that I'm thinking of myself at all. But as a working mom, this is just how my brain works. The balance seems impossible, sometimes.

this one's for Shane.

It was "Sports Day" at daycare on Friday. Jane wore a shirt from Shane's favorite team. Except totally NOT his favorite team. Dare I say, the opposite of his favorite team?

Bonus post for today

Wow. I have to say good for McCain. His crowds are out of control at this point.

Read this.

'til death do us part

Connecticut has many, many faults (the impending asstasatic winter weather being one major one). But today's news put a big fat check in the "pros" column about our fair state. It's about damn time.

I will now anxiously await the invitations to arrive in my mailbox!

the porcelain throne

Last night I went to a "Toilet Training from the Trenches" class at Jane's daycare. I can truly say there is nothing as enjoyable - read, torturous - as the idea of going BACK to Jane's daycare after picking her up, giving her dinner, and shoving some food down my own throat, but off I went last night, with Greg getting the lucky duty of dealing with Jane's bedtime ritual. And I truly do mean he was lucky.

The class took place in the 3-4 year olds room, which was interesting to see. It looks like all sorts of fun up there, with art projects, a science center, and other cool stuff. I would have much preferred checking out Jane's future digs than sitting in a chair designated for someone 32 years younger than me (not good for my back, which has already been in agony these past couple of weeks-woe is me!).

Anyway, the lady teaching the (mercifully short) class was from the United Way, and was perfectly lovely, and she gave a little talk, and people asked questions, and we all got a handout detailing what and when we need to do in regards to the almighty transition from diaper to crapper.

I have to tell you, I could barely keep a straight face. There was so much sincere talk about "poopie" and "pee pee" and "BMs" and something called "pee targets" (did you know such a thing exists? for boys? you float little targets in the toilet? HA!) that I could hardly contain my laughter. And I felt bad, because while the whole conversation was very theoretical for me because Jane is only 14 months, but all the other parents had more age-appropriate kids (between 2 and 4) and some of them were having real problems with the whole process.

The next step, in a few months, is for us to start identifying to Jane what it is she's doing in her diaper. But I'm already doing that! I have a song called "There's a Poop in Your Butt and Your Mama's Gonna Get It Out" and everything! We also get to start going to the bathroom in front of her. What a supreme treat for everyone!

this election needs to get over with so I can go back to my regularly scheduled life

It was Debate Night in America again last night, and once again, I was glued to my TV, simultanously watching the big show while also monitoring various websites and liveblogs covering the event. Although I've always been interested in politics, I find I've become positively obsessed over the past 12 months (as I am sure you have noticed).

My mother demanded that I register to vote the instant I turned 18 – her mantra being, “If you don’t vote, you can’t complain.” I’ve voted in nearly every election since, only missing one or two local elections. And, Lord, have I complained.

As for presidential elections, I’ve voted Clinton, Clinton, Gore, Kerry…and now Obama. I voted for the winner twice, then the loser twice…time for a win again, I say.

Although I do clearly remember screaming in misery during the last presidential election in 2004 when it became clear that Bush had somehow won again – while on my honeymoon in Hawaii (how dare he muck up my escape to paradise!) – I don’t think I’ve ever been as invested in an election as I am this year. When I start thinking about November 4, my heart starts beating faster, with a combination of terror and tentative excitement. If Obama loses, I will cry big, fat, "we have failed" tears.

The other night, my friend remarked the same thing, and said that although she fears that underneath his sheen of hope and change Obama is the same sort of sleazy politician we have all come to detest, she finds herself really wanting to believe that he’s one of the good ones. That the things he says are true. She commented that “this must have been what people felt like about JFK.”

Indeed.

you should see the other guy

I had this whole post worked up in my head about the election (yes, I know, surprising), but then I picked up Jane from daycare today, and immediately changed my blog topic for today.

You can't see it too clearly in these pictures, but she is all scraped up under and above her left eye. I got the dreaded "accident report" (we've gotten three of these in the past couple of weeks!) when I picked her up, which detailed how she slipped and fell out on the playground today, basically giving herself a rug burn on her face (yes, they have a rug in the playground, I'm not sure why). She took it like a champ though, and didn't even cry. I wanted to cry when I saw her, however!

You must admit, it gives her a bit of that "don't mess with me" aura, though.

zen

As I was pushing through rush hour traffic this afternoon, on the way to pick up Jane at daycare and start the craziness that is my evening schedule, I started to think of where I would rather be. Right away, I thought of two places that instantly put me at peace: the bookstore and the beach.

I LOVE going to the bookstore. This past Sunday morning, I abandoned Jane and Greg at home for an hour and headed to Borders BY MYSELF. Prior to Jane, Greg and I would go every Saturday morning to read magazines and drink mochas. I don't know if it's the smell of the books or the coffee or a mixture of both, but the minute I walk in, I can feel myself physically calming down. Since having Jane, and especially now that she's older, it's not really easy to have a relaxing morning at the bookstore. Sure, I take her there all the time, but disassembling and reassembling the children's section isn't quite the same. And now that I don't get to go as often - at least not without a kid in tow - it's even more of a treat.

Even more so, I love going to the beach. Some of my favorite memories with my family, and especially my father, are from our family vacations that we took at the Connecticut shoreline every summer. I don't know whether I'm much of a spiritual person, but I know that I positively feel my dad when I'm at the beach. I just have to go down to the water, stand at the edge, and stare out - and all the memories come flooding back. On top of that, there is just nothing better than going to the beach alone, finding a perfect spot (preferably next to a group of college kids, so I can hear all the good gossip) and reading for the day in the sun.

So, in conclusion: sun + books = Zen Amanda. What's your formula?

we were waiting for this, of course

sigh.

Let's face it, Sarah. You wanted to talk about what you had written on your notecards. I love how she says she was "annoyed" instead of just "completely unprepared to answer fairly simple questions." Hell, I can answer the question of what magazines and newspapers I read. And, yes Sarah, you are going to get clobbered for everything you say. Just like Obama, McCain, and Biden have been. You are running for national office. Is there something about that you don't understand?



PS YES - I did actually get to out last night! Like a real person who goes out! On the weekend!

rock the vote!

No, no, not THAT vote. I am exhausted by last night's election - not just that it was late, but that some people think Palin did SO WELL - why? WHY, PEOPLE? Because she didn't completely choke? Because she didn't start crying? Because what I saw was someone who was prepared on SOME questions, and who evaded other, direct questions to funnel back to the topics on which she felt most comfortable. Also, I can't stand her. Especially the cutesy shit. I DO in fact want someone MUCH smarter than me to be President, not someone who is just like me, or, God forbid, not as smart as me. See? I can't write about this election anymore, because it makes me all rageish.

No, the topic to vote on is about tonight. See, I actually have plans tonight to go out with one of my friends from my newspaper days. We are supposed to eat, drink and be merry - so what will happen to make me have to cancel? Your choices are:

A) Jane gets sick (the obvious choice)
B) Jimmy has some highly unusual medical problem that has to be seen by a vet immediately, if not sooner
C) Something happens to the boat and Greg has to go down to Old Saybrook
D) I get sick

Or perhaps a lovely combination of a couple of those choices! Vote now!

you can see into the future with those glasses

That is what my brother says about my glasses.

I am a blind mofo. Not really, but probaby as close as anyone you know who isn't actually blind. So you can imagine my shock - nay, HORROR - yesterday morning when I heard the "snap" as I was cleaning off my glasses. Yup. Right. In. Half.

I freaked. I truly cannot see without my glasses. It's not that I just need them to drive, or read, or work - I need them to walk across the room. I don't have a backup pair, because, if you all remember, Jimmy chewed those up a couple of years ago. I do have contact lenses, but, ever since I was about 22, my eyes have completely rejected them.

However, yesterday offered me no other option. Greg had a very early morning meeting so I had to get Jane ready for the day, to daycare, and myself to work before I could even deal with trying to get in touch with my eye doctor to schedule an exam (oh, yeah - I was two years overdue for an eye exam). I plopped the contacts in my eyes, braced myself for eyeball agony, and went on my way.

I was able to get a doctor's appointment at noon (my eye doctor is in an office at LensCrafters). All was well, so I brought my prescription to the store and picked out some new frames (but I didn't really wanna - I loved my old frames!). Now, I know you're thinking - LensCrafters is great! They can make glasses in about an hour! Not with my suck-ass eyes, they can't. They have to order special lenses that are ground down so they're not super thick, with the special non-glare coating, blah diddy blah blah blah - and I was given the bad news that it would take a week for them to come in.

The very nice optomitrist suggested I pick out some discount frames, and they could put the thicker, glare-y lenses that they can make on the spot in that afternoon. That way, I would have a backup pair for the week, and then in the future, when I inevitably break my nice ones again.

There was really no other option. I couldn't bear to wear contacts for a whole week - at that point I just wanted to rip my eyeballs out as it was - so I picked out some (fugly) frames and got my (fuglier) lenses and now I'm walking around with what looks to me like laboratory glasses. A face shield, if you will. People have been nice to say that they look OK, but they are lying liars.

The whole experience cost me over $600. Six hundred dollars. I hope everyone's looking forward to their framed pictures of Jimmy pict for Christmas this year, because that's going to be about all I can afford. And that's only if I make the frames with popsicle sticks.

31 for 21

You'll see a new link on the right side of this page called "31 for 21." October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month, and there is a campaign being led by Trish at Unringing the Bell for all bloggers to try to blog for 31 days (in a row)(I know!!) to help raise awareness about Down Syndrome. Here's the paragraph that got me:

Why should I do it?
This is the one question I can be unambiguous about. I propose you do it in honor of Down Syndrome Awareness Month. One thing I can say certainly, is that writing--blogging specifically--has helped me in numerous ways as the mother of a child with Down syndrome. I value the people I have met, the friends I have made, and the information I have gathered on blogs. Wouldn't it be wonderful if new parents googled Down syndrome and our blogs came up? What a welcome wagon that would be!

But that doesn’t mean you HAVE to write about Down syndrome. I think it’s beneficial for folks to read about people who are affected by Down syndrome and see that our lives are just the same as anyone else’s!

I propose whether or not you personally know someone affected by DS that you do it in honor of those living with DS as a part of their lives; to raise awareness of Down syndrome. (And, well, it WOULD be nice if you mentioned that's why you're doing it in at least ONE of your blog entries.)

I have talked about it on here a decent amount, so you all know that when I was pregnant with Jane, we were given 1/77 odds of her having Down syndrome, and while she did not end up being born with Down syndrome, it's a topic that has become close to my heart. Although people told me over and over that "she'll be fine" or "don't worry" or "blah blah blah" (that's how it sounded to me) I knew I needed to educate myself on what exactly Down syndrome is. My search led to me some scary, outdated medical sites, and to some wonderful, amazingly-written blogs, several of which I continue to read, because as it turns out, much, if not most, of parenting is a universal experience, no matter what issues your child confronts. I plan to recommend some of those blogs to you throughout the month, the first being Jennifer Graf Gronberg's Pinwheels. She writes beautifully about her life with her three sons, one of which has Down syndrome. She wrote a very compelling book, Road Map to Holland, about the early years with her son Avery, who has Ds - it is truly a book you can't put down. Take the time to check her out.

So - yeah. I plan to blog for 31 days in a row. HELP! I need suggestions. Is there anything pressing you feel like you must know about my life? Tomorrow I will blog about my glasses adventure today, titled "How You Know Your Wednesday Is Going to Suck - An Adventure in Snapping Your Glasses in Half First Thing in the Morning."

what a week

Well, my birthday week left a little bit to be desired. Jane had a bad ear infection which resulted in throwing up (in one particular instance, on me, in Target), no sleeping, and general misery. We had some trouble throwing together a roster of babysitters for Jane to cover our day in New York yesterday, but it managed to work out. Greg and I were able to go in to see IN THE HEIGHTS yesterday - FINALLY - and I truly fell in love with this show. I was so psyched to have the opportunity to see the whole original Broadway cast, and, in particular, Beth's boyfriend and the show's creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda. It was such an amazing show and I cannot wait to see it again, because I know there was tons of stuff I missed. This show absolutely shot to my top five best shows ever, and possibly the top three.

Someday, when I get enough sleep, I will actually write more interesting blog entries, like how fascinated I was that John McCain plans to cut all spending except for his favorite hobby, the war. How fast this country is going even deeper into the shitter.

Instead, I leave you with this, to entice you to go see IN THE HEIGHTS! Go! Now! I insist!

Letterman love

I used to have a bit of an intellectual crush on David Letterman. I think it's back.

thirty five

It could have been as early as 15 - but definitely by 20 - that I decided that 35 was my scary "real adult" age. That it didn't matter how much I screwed up throughout my late teens, entire twenties, and early thirties, I really had to have my life together by the time I turned 35.

Lord, how those years flew by. I remember thinking, "I've got 15 years left 'til then" or "I've got 5 years left 'til then" and now I'm thinking "I've got eight hours left 'til then."

I don't see any major maturing going on between now and midnight, especially since I'll be having some cocktails with friends later this evening.

I mentioned this whole life theory to a friend who basically asked what it was I didn't think I had - I'm married, I've got the house, dogs, kid, good job. Health insurance. I pay my bills. I stayed home today with a sick kid and got puked on by her in Target. I actual squealed with delight when I realized the first presidential debate was on this Friday night. I claimed to Greg that watching it would be a "hot date." The other day, when checking the mailbox for birthday cards, I was even more excited to find a jury duty notice addressed to me - a first-ever. There is a part of me that thinks not only am I a real adult, I'm a lame-ass real adult to boot.

I suppose I expected to feel more grown-up at this point. As mentioned, I've got all the trappings of an adult. I definitely don't care what people think of me as much as I used to. I don't feel comfortable shopping in Abercrombie & Fitch anymore. I feel weird if I wear t-shirts with "funny" sayings on them. Clearly, there is some degree of growing up that has happened. But deep down, I just don't feel like an adult. Let's face it, my primary hobby, theater, is rooted in make-believe. I spent time today pondering if I should watch the first season of "Gossip Girl." I cannot wait until "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2" comes out on DVD.

The thing of it is, I really don't think most of my peers are that much more together than I am. I don't look around and think, look at all of these adults! To me, there is a level of humor that my generation - Gen X - is now retro, that I graduated from high school 17 years ago, that Sarah Palin is a mere 9 years older than me, that I have to go to a potty training seminar in a couple of weeks, that the same friends I have playdates with now are the ones who I drank myself sick with in college.

Here's the good news. I love being in my 30s leaps and bounds more than my 20s, and so to celebrate another birthday in this decade is a good thing. And while I still might think the word "poop" is funny, I am otherwise proud of all that I've accompished so far. And there's nothing scary about that.

with apologies to the gentlemen who read this blog.

I'm officially old.

Because I'm turning 35 in a couple of weeks, I have to get a baseline mammogram this year.

Happy freakin' Birthday to me.

Yeah, what he said.

Cape Cod, and other adventures

We took Jane on her first vacation last week - we went to Cape Cod with Greg's whole family (on his mother's side). Although Jane really didn't sleep well in her pack and play, it was otherwise a wonderful trip - the weather held, except for some rain during Saturday and Hannah blowing through Saturday night, and we had a lot of nice time to spend at the beach and hanging out on the boardwalk outside our rooms. We stayed in oceanfront rooms at this resort we go to every other year. It's really pretty nice and I just love being at the beach, so anytime I can open my door and look at the ocean, I'm a happy gal.

Greg's mother took over with Jane for a couple of hours a day, so I actually managed to get some time to myself as well, and nothing makes Amanda happier than sitting on the beach with a frozen drink in one hand and a book in the other. I didn't expect to get any Jane-free time so it was an unexpected and awesome bonus.

Jane really enjoyed herself. She had been having herself a cranky-a-thon for the previous week, so I was very apprehensive about the trip. Maybe it was all of the new people, maybe it was the fact that there was another baby there her own age (Greg's cousin had a baby last August), maybe it was all of the opportunity to be outside - I don't really know. All I know is she barely cried (except several times during each night) and always seemed to have something new to explore.

A note: packing for a trip with a baby is a lot like packing for a month-long trip, in the sense that there is barely any room in the car for the actual passengers. Holy hell, did we ever bring a lot of stuff, and I can honestly say, in the end, I don't really think I overpacked. She just needs a lot of shit.

In other news, Jimmy. Ah, Jimmy. I alluded to an adventure we had last night with Jimmy on my Facebook page, and I had intended to blog about it, but honestly, it's just so gross I think that probably no one on earth would really want to read the story. So the short version is: a horrifying thing happened with Jimmy's private parts last night, Greg whisked him off to the emergency vet, the problem essentially resolved itself before he even got there, he waited for two hours, got some antibiotics, and came home. I, on the other hand, was stuck at home, Greg didn't have his cell so I couldn't call him, and I bargained with God for Jimmy's life the whole time (truly, if you had seen what I saw, you would have been fearful for his life too).

He is, in true Jimmy fashion, just fine, after completely freaking us out and costing us a lot of money.

And that's about all I'm going to say about that.

seasons of love, indeed.

It's the end of an era.

Also, read this.

And then this.

This show has meant so much to my theater self. Yesterday I was thinking about how much my life has changed since I first saw it 11 years ago. Deep inside, there's still that 23-year-old who was trying to figure out her life and used RENT as her personal sountrack.

here's the thing.

I'm damn frightened of how much the super-conservatives are starting to embrace Palin. With her anti-gay marriage, pro-guns, anti-choice crazy-mofo agenda, she pretty much stands for everything I don't.

And, no, I don't think it's fair that young Bristol Palin gets the national spotlight thrust upon her during what is most likely the worst time of her life. I can't imagine what it is like for this teenager to have to plaster a smile on her face, and act all "yeah, I totally wanted to get pregnant now and get married now despite the fact that my life has barely begun" when she probably just wants to crawl under the covers and cry.

I don't judge her. Hell, no. Anyone who judges a pregnant teen should stop for a second and realize that there but for the grace of Trojan go most of us...it could happen to anyone, and it does happen to many, and the fact that she's keeping the baby, is, apparently, a choice that she made with her family, according to her mother.

Wait...what was that word? Was it...choice? Huh. So by giving her a choice, you're not saying she's a pro-abortion floozie, throw caution to the wind and let's get knocked up because hey, I can just go to the clinic in the morning and who cares! La dee da! She was just given a choice.

Keep the baby - hard decision. Life-altering decision. Terminate the pregnancy - hard decision. Life-altering decision. Either way you look at it, Bristol Palin - and all young women who find themselves pregnant way before they ever wanted to be - have to grow up fast, and make grown-up decisions that are best left for someone a decade older.

The fact that Palin herself had a baby just a few months ago that has Down Syndrome has further rallied the conservatives. See? She found out the baby had a chromosomal disorder and look - she kept him! Because she's pro-life! And anyone who is put in a situation where they find out during an ultrasound that something is very wrong with their child - a child they may have prayed for and hoped for -shouldn't have a choice to deal with the abnormality by terminating the pregnancy, even if it means the baby won't live outside the womb, or it will live a terribly compromised, painful life! That would be wrong! It's so black and white! Can't you see?

As we all remember, I got blood test results that indicated that there was an elevated risk that Jane had Down Syndrome. And during the three weeks between the test and the ultrasound that reassured us that everything was OK, Greg and I had to make a decision. Do we keep the baby, or terminate? 90% of Down Syndrome babies are terminated, as I read. Didn't matter. It wasn't even an option. We were keeping the baby no matter what.

So who is better? Palin, a Republican who doesn't believe in choice, and kept her baby? Or me, a Democrat who treasures choice, and would have kept her baby? See, pro-choice doesn't always mean pro-abortion. It just means pro-CHOICE. In the eyes of the socially conservative Republicans, Palin's moral ground is much higher than mine. Yet we made the same decision.

It KILLS me that Sarah Palin has a huge chance at being the next VP of our country, and possibly the next President as well. I cannot imagine that this mother does not want to ensure the fact that her daughters are given every opportunity to make the choices they want, and to dictate their own lives.

I'm sorry, but this cracked me up.

weighty matters

It was nine years ago this weekend that I decided it was high time to lose some pudge. During my early-to-mid 20s, I had steadily been putting on weight. I know that everything you read about weight gain comes down to an emotional issue - food as friend, food as comfort, food as religion -whatever. For me, it was -and remains - the fact that I enjoy eating. I find it pleasurable. The things I like to eat the most are total crap for you. The end.

But it was a random day at the beach in the summer of 1999 that I decided enough was enough. I was asked to be a bridesmaid in yet another wedding, and I was sick of being the biggest girl going down the aisle. I gave myself a deadline for the following June to lose 60 pounds. (Yes, I know approx. how much I weighed then, and yes, due to a scale obsession I certainly know how much I weighed at the end, but I'm not giving numbers up, my friends.) I headed to the store, bought a Walkman, a new pair of sneakers, and hit the road.

And, boy, did I ever hit the road. Over the following 10 months, I walked my ass off, literally. I was never much of a runner, but I can power walk with the best of them, and finish a mile faster than some (slow) runners. I walked in hurricanes (seriously), snowstorms, freezing temperatures - yup, I was that asshole that you see out in the pouring rain trotting away. I walked and walked and walked, and restricted my calories like nobody's business - all the while leaving myself free days every week - and made my goal. And then lost 10 more pounds, for a total of 70 pounds lost in just under a year.

I cannot tell you how fabulous it was to have people see me, do a double take, and tell me that they didn't even recognize me. I cannot tell how awesome it was to have that damn bridesmaid dress taken in, then taken in some more, and then some more. I cannot tell you how annoying it was when people accused me of being anorexic, starving myself, binging, and all sorts of eating disorder-like behavior. No, I would say. I've been doing this steadily. You just didn't notice the first 25 pounds that came off.

The hardest part of weight loss, they say, is maintaining. That is definitely right. Once you decide, OK, I've lost enough weight, how do you stop dieting? It was a struggle to figure out what I could eat without putting the weight back on. I managed OK, until a new relationship came along (hi, Greg!). Then all those dinners out and my abandoned exercise routine caught up with me, and I put 20 pounds back on.

I put the brakes on the weight gain pretty quickly though, and walked off 30 pounds, managing to get myself to my lowest known adult weight for my wedding (wedding stress, anyone?). After gaining 10 back (because really, that's where my body should be), I leveled out for a couple of years.

Then came pregnancy. And while at first I looked at it as a free pass to eat whatever the hell I wanted (and could stomach), a combination of the realization that I would ultimately have to lose it and a diagnosis of gestational diabetes put the kibosh on my food frenzy. In fact, I don't think I've ever eaten healthier than I did in the third trimester. And while Jane was a healthy 7 lbs, 3 oz, I had a total of 30 pounds to lose.

This past year has been difficult. I lost the bulk of the baby weight quickly, but I had a remaining six pounds that refused to budge. As I get older, my calorie reduction tricks don't work as well as they used to. My metabolism is shit. I hate/don't have time for exercise. It was a combo of three stomach bugs since December that finally rid me of the final pounds.

I think I will always have self-image issues regarding my weight. It's funny -now I weigh about what I did when I lost all that weight nine years ago, and at the time, I felt so impossibly skinny. And now I sure don't. I want to resolve this kind of thinking so I don't somehow pass along my crappy body image attitude to Jane.

Perhaps I should stop writing this boring post and hit the treadmill? Or maybe I should have a snack.

bright sunshiny day

Today I took the day off of work, sent Jane to daycare, and went to the beach. Alone. It was the best thing I've done for myself in a year.

I used to go to the beach by myself all the time. It's one of my favorite things to do in the summer, but I haven't done it at least two years, three, actually. And I didn't think I'd do it this summer, but I realized last week that I desperately needed a day off - a true day off from everything and everyone - and was able to take today.

It was awesome. I sat there on my blanket, looked at the water (lots of jellyfish today), read nearly an entire book (You've Been Warned by James Patterson), ate some bad-for-you food, watched families play in the sand and water, and got some color. Then I went to downtown Madison, bought a book at R.J. Julia, got an iced mocha, sat on a bench and read some more.

Awesome.

I love the beach. When I was very young, we used to have a boat, and would go out every Sunday. Then later, we used to rent a cottage for a week every summer. It was nothing fancy, but the source of some of my best childhood memories -heading to the beach first thing in the morning with my dad and brother, tromping back to the cottage at lunchtime to eat quickly so we could go back in the water, strolling to the lemon ice stand every afternoon for a treat, buying cheap little trinkets that seemed like gold to a child.

I don't know if it's because I have Jane, but I noticed so many young kids at the beach today. Babies Jane's age too - one 18-month-old decided to come over and stand on my blanket (that was the only conversation I had - I asked her grandmother how old she was (the baby, not the grandmother)). Watching all of the kids having fun made me so excited about the prospect of Jane coming to the beach and loving it as much as I did - and still do. It will be great to see everything from her perspective, where the sign of a great day is a ton of sand stuck in your bathing suit, a sticky face from ice cream, and total exhaustion brought on from hours of sunlight.

from the mailbox!

After my obvious cry for attention on Twitter, I received this email:

There's plenty I don't know about your life right now. Write about going to see Jersey Boys or about your Fabulous Female Friday Funtime you're having tomorrow night. Write about books you've loved or about crying while watching Tori Spelling. Write about what Jane's doing. Is she starting to walk?See? So many interesting things to write about.

OK, dear reader, I will answer your questions.

1) I went to see Jersey Boys last week. However, since that's filed under the topic of "work," I won't talk about it here. But it was fun being in the city, as always, despite the fact we got caught in a torrential downpour in Times Square, saw a man who most definitely didn't have his pants on correctly, and ate lunch at T.G.I. Fridays, embarrassingly enough. What? We were hungry!

2) Books. I read a lot of 'em. I can't think of anything coherent to write about any of them at this moment, so I will tell you that I'm currently reading "Obsession" by Jonathan Kellerman, and I'm finding it quite pleasing, if you are the murder-mystery type. Which I am.

3) My Fabulous Female Friday Funtime is indeed scheduled for tomorrow night, which means, unfortunately, that I can't make it to dear reader's jewelry party. I am going out with my friends Heather and Shelly - two of my oldest and best friends - and this is very exciting and highly unusual, considering, between us, we have five kids (Heather has three of them). So getting out of the house, sans families, is particularly awesome. I'm very much looking forward to this, which is why I'm terrified something will happen to make me have to cancel.

4) Yeah, yeah, the other night I cried while watching "Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood." Yes, this is a Tori Spelling reality show. Yes, I should hate myself for watching it. But, whatever, I became addicted last summer when I was up 24/7 with Jane, and truly, it's kind of a cute show. Anyway, they were showing a memorial service she had when her dog Mimi died, and it was quite sad. It was also quite fancy, with butterflies being released and party favors and what not, but hey, that's Hollywood.

5) Jane is currently sleeping. Other than that, no, she's not walking yet. She pulls herself up and creeps along the furniture, but no walking thus far. And to be honest, I'm not rushing it. I know I will never sit down when she starts walking, not that I do much now, because dang, that girl crawls fast.

She is moving to a bigger kids' room at daycare in September, and they gave me a whole list of new supplies she will need. In this room they will encourage cup use instead of bottle, table food instead of baby food, one nap instead of two (this scares me the most). The whole thing has me very emotional because it's a big change and transition for her, and since she's now firmly in the "stranger anxiety" phase of life, I'm afraid she'll have a tough time. Every day we drop her off at daycare, her face turns red and the big crocodile tears come. So we feel like shit for the rest of the day; meanwhile, she cheers up about four seconds after we walk out the door, according to her teachers.

Have a great weekend!

weekend. update.

I feel as if I've been limping to this weekend - this week has been so work-tastic, and by work-tastic, I mean full-of-work, that it felt like it would never end. In fact, as we speak, I am at home, on my couch, working. What a tool. STEP AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER, AMANDA.

So, here I am, pretending like disaster won't strike and I'm actually going to have a decent weekend. Ha ha ha hahaaaaa......ahem. Anyway.

We are road-tripping it this weekend to Dimitry's house in New Jersey. Dimitry is Greg's old college roomate and although he lives way far away in a whole other state, we still remain friends with him. He recently got married and bought a house and basically abandoned his Manhattan-single-out-all-the-time ways, so I'm excited to see his transformation into a suburban boring married person. You know, like myself.

And since the kid isn't ready to stay home and have parties behind our backs, she's coming with us. Surely, this will be flawless. She will sleep happily in her pack-and-play, leaving her parents to socialize with real, grown-up, adult-type people. She will take naps when she should, eat when she could, not cry, and be utterly charming the whole weekend. She will also have no problem with the several-hours car trip to and fro.

She will also poop hundred dollar bills into her diaper.

Wish us luck!

no readers allowed!

If you're reading this, you know I've now set restrictions on who reads my blog. There is a long story attached to this, and most of you have already heard it. Not getting into it here. Aside from that, I have been thinking for some time about this blog, and the kind of information I put up here. I love reading back on old posts from last year, from when Jane was an infant, but as she gets older, I really have struggled with what kind of information I put about her out there on the interwebs (sorry, Lisa).

I am contemplating taking down this blog and starting a new one. One with less about my kid, and more about...all that other boring stuff I talk about. Which sucks, because I have over two years of scintillating material on here already, and I'd hate to start over new. If I do make that decision, I will of course let you know. Stay tuned.

PS If there is someone you know who reads this god-awful boring blog, let me know and I'll invite them to be a reader.

STAR TREK: THE KLINGTASTIC MUSICAL

Greg and I FINALLY made it to Alan's show last night at HITW. And although we barely got four hours of sleep the night before (after an adventure-filled night on the boat), we really enjoyed ourselves, not only being out on the town alone, sans Jane - imagine, being out with all of these people, none of whom needed me to change their diaper! - but, depite all fears that his show would feature spaceships and aliens and stuff like that, it wasn't very sci-fi at all, and was quite enjoyable. Alan was very good, of course, as was my friend Paul, who was also in the show. As you can see, Jane wishes she went too. Future theater nerd? Or future sci-fi geek?

oh yeah, that show I did

Remember, like, two weeks ago when I did a show? And I was all consumed with it and I was never home and life was crazy? And then I never really updated about it? Well, it went really well - one of the things I love about working with this summer program is the fact that the audiences are filled with past and upcoming summer theater participants, plus family and friends of the cast, so it ends up sounding like a Miley Cyrus concert in the auditorium. You can't buy that kind of appreciation. It turned out to be a very entertaining, energetic show, which is pretty much what we were after in the first place. I miss working with the kids, but I am enjoying having some free time at night again. Anywho, here are some (belated) photos.

my kid is freakin' cool

So, today was one of those truly special days at daycare when Jane only takes one nap. If by "special" I mean "horrible," because that means the countdown to bedtime will be slow, tear-soaked and drama-filled. Indeed, that's how this evening was progressing. I tried to entertain Jane with her toys and books, but she wasn't having it. So I took her on a long walk, during which she fell asleep. Imagine her delight (and mine) when I took her out of her stroller with a half hour to go until bedtime. Sadness! Misery! Wailing! Until....

I have a magic trick. When the shit really hits the fan, I go to my special saved DVR recording that is guaranteed to work. I was afraid that tonight it would fail, because, o, woe was her. But I had to give it a shot. She was crying and generally lamenting her very existence until she heard this blog's favorite Lin-Manuel Miranda kick off In the Heights' Tony performance with "Lights up on Washington Heights up at the break of day...."

She turns and looks at me like, "Holy crap, Mom! Look who's here!" She whips her head back to the TV just to make sure, then looks back at me with a gigantic smile, her legs wiggling, her body bouncing. She's been happy ever since.

Everyone who meets Jane comments how she looks nothing like me, and everything like Greg. And it's true. But she's got some me in her. She's a theater dork in the making.

wipe those tears away

OK, OK, I've been told to stop making everyone cry with my sappy baby posts. There has been a request for dog pics. You want 'em, you got 'em!

My show opens tonight. The last two weeks have been particularly grueling with many nights of rehearsals, stomach bug in the house, shitty vacation, busy at work, blah diddy blah blah blah. The good news is - the show is ready. The BEST news is - Jane's mole was benign. THANK GOD!!

When I have more time, remind me to tell you about the bat that invaded rehearsal on Wednesday night. To recap: July 23, 2007 at 7:27 p.m. I was having Jane. July 23, 2008 at 7:27 p.m. I was ducking from a crazy, swooping bat! Oh, what a year it's been.

If you're looking for my usual snarky posts, please skip this.

When you start thinking to yourself, "hey, I'm in my 30s, maybe it's time to think about having a baby," and you're also a person like me, you do a lot of research. You ask a lot of questions. You read that you won't feel well for a few months, that you'll be tired, that you'll be excited when you see the first ultrasound, that you'll go through a lot of testing, and, oh, hey, it hurts when you go through labor and delivery.

Of course, nothing ACTUALLY prepares you for all of that until you're going through it. You can read "you will experience nausea for approximately 12 weeks, sometimes longer," but you really don't know what that feels like until you're chronically dry-heaving for five months. You don't know how scary it will be when the results of a genetic test aren't what you had hoped for. You don't realize what it feels like to finally exhale when you've seen the little 11-week bean jumping around on a small, fuzzy screen after you think you might have lost her. And, sure, you really can't comprehend what labor pains feel like until your stomach feels like it's being twisted by King Kong. Or Godzilla. Or some other large, and very painful, creature. I still can't comprehend it, because my brain blocked it out for me.

Motherhood is similiar. People often told me, "get your sleep now, because once the baby comes, you never sleep," and I nodded, and smiled, but until last summer, didn't truly know how physically, and more importantly, mentally painful it is to go several months with only a couple (nervous) hours of sleep a night. And to have many, many of those waking hours being spent by holding a shrieking, screaming infant.

I had a co-worker who showed up at work the day her maternity leave ended in tears, because she had left her daughter at daycare for the first time. I felt badly for her, but I thought, "what's the big deal?." Our plan was to do the same - once my 13 weeks of leave were up, Jane was going to daycare. But as the weeks creeped along, I realized that I would have to leave my new appendage with strangers all day. I wanted to be with her. Why did they get to spend the day with her and not me? I would stare at her in her crib, play her mobile music, and cry. The first day we dropped her off was absolutely one of the worst, and gut-wrenching, of my life.

People will tell you you'll worry about your child. I have been worried about my child since she was just a few cells, but it's a whole different ballgame when they're on the "outside." Things that I never noticed before, like people speeding in their cars and fireworks going off at night, became my enemies. Every surface that I looked at I regarded as party central for germs. Every runny nose was sure to turn into pneumonia. Every cry signified something worse than hunger, sleepiness, or teething.

Then there are the more abstract things. Will she have friends when she's in school? Will people make fun of her? How will she handle that? How will I handle that? Will girls basically be dressing like hookers in second grade? Will they be having sex in third? What will she want to do with her life? Will we be friends as adults? Will she move far away?

I was told how busy I would be. How I would not have time for all of the hobbies that ate up so much of my time pre-baby. By the sheer force of my stubborness and with the understanding by Greg that he is also her parent and therefore responsible for some nighttime care, I have been able to prove this one untrue. I do, in fact, still read books. It may take me longer, but I still do it. This week I am finishing up my first show that I've done since she was born. This truly was a difficult task, both scheduling and being away so much, but I did it. Because when Jane does grow up, I want to have some "me" left.

I heard and read many times that the love you have for a child is unmatched. That you will not be able to remember your life before you had a child. It all sounded like a bunch of cliched crap made up by parents who thought they were better than everybody else. Frankly, I really didn't like many other kids. I was worried that I had no maternal instincts inside of me. Besides, who would want to kiss a baby when dogs are so much furrier?

But it's real. (Not the part about being better than everybody, of course.) I would take a bullet for Jane. I would lift a car for Jane. I would drop anything if I thought there was something wrong with Jane. I would absorb her every pain, hurt, and heartbreak if I could. There are things in my life that seemed so monumentally important to me before, and sometimes they still are, but the most important thing, always, is the well-being of Jane. I feel like she's an extension of me - I suppose she is an extension of me - and while I guess I can remember my life before her, I don't want to.

I have never painted a rosy, glowy picture of motherhood. It's hard as hell, doubly harder if you're a working mom. I constantly feel guilty, I always second-guess myself, but one thing I can say is I've always tried to make the right choices for Jane. I may not have always been correct, but I've always tried. I will never (or at least, TRY to never) be one of those parents who try to suck everyone in to the sphere of children. If you choose not to have children, I applaud it. You have to really want it, because your life changes so drastically, and much of it is not fun at all.

I have been a mother for one year today. As I write this, a year ago I was heading to the hospital for an NST that ultimately landed me in a delivery room a few hours later. Tonight, at 7:27 p.m., I will be in a high school auditorium, rehearsing a show. Jane will be in bed, asleep (God willing). Maybe she will be dreaming of the crackers she now feeds herself, and the milk she's now drinking, or all of the new "real people" food she's trying, or how she crawls all over the place. Maybe she'll be dreaming about how she pulls herself up, and how she's probably only a few weeks away from standing and walking. Maybe she'll be dreaming of all of her new friends, and of all of her parents' friends who have been so wonderful with her, and generous to her. Maybe she'll be dreaming about all of the walks we've taken, all the songs we've sung and conversations we've had, all the toys we've played with, of all the plans we've made, of all the little moments in her life that have been so monumental to me.

Happy Birthday, Jane. You are my reason.

ETA: Love the special birthday banner, Lisa! Thank you so much! Jane approves.

all partied out

another opening, another show

Remember way back when I was posting about happy things and I posted that awesome video that [tos] made for In the Heights for their opening night? WELL, of course In the Heights reciprocated for [tos] opening night last night! WATCH IT! AND GO!

wish you were here!

Well...not really. Because if you were here, you'd have to listen to me complain about how I was completely laid out for the past three days with a wicked stomach bug. I should have known something was wrong when I went out for lunch in the park on Friday and fell asleep on a bench. After deciding I didn't want to eat anything. Yeah, those should have been two very strong signals that something was up.

So, welcome to my vacation! I'm doing it up in true Amanda style by being sick and complaining! I'm still not completely recovered yet and haven't eaten anything that isn't strictly a bread-style product since Thursday. And I've lost five pounds! No lie. FIVE! Shane, you know what that means - ONE POUND TO GO!(Until I gain it all back.)

I was supposed to get all sorts of stuff done this weekend. Friday night, I was supposed to go out to dinner with Todd and then go see Alan in STAR TREK: THE KLINGTASTIC MUSICAL, but instead I was in bed by 8. (Oh yeah, did I mention that Jane was sent home from daycare on Friday with a fever? Yeah.) Saturday I was supposed to go out and buy Jane an outfit for her big one-year photo session on Tuesday, and buy birthday presents for Heather's kids who were having a party on Sunday, and a bunch of other stuff...but I didn't do any of that. I will be polite and not tell you what I did do. Yesterday I managed to leave the house to go to Target and buy the birthday presents, and I did haul myself over to the party for a while before going to rehearsal (yes, I am STUPID, but the show is in less than two weeks, people!). But it was a pretty craptacular weekend overall.

And now it's Monday. Today I did go to the mall and get Jane a dress for tomorrow's big shoot (it is AMAZING how hard it is to find a cute, simple white dress this time of year. If I were looking for her winter clothes now, I'd be all set. But summer is SO OVAH, according to every baby clothing store in the region.) Tonight I have rehearsal. I have rehearsal every night this week, as well as next week. In two weeks, the whole show will be a distant memory. It is frightening how much has to be done between now and then. Can't believe how fast this summer is flying by.

Or maybe it just seems to be flying by because I'm in a cold medicine/stomach bug/sleep-deprived haze all the time.

I pray that any further vacation updates are far more, well, vacation-y than this one.

PS Thanks for Lisa for pulling me out of my pity party with that awesome new banner!

I think I heard something about this somewhere

Just go, dammit.

her other mom

Jane's home away from home is the Chickadee room at her daycare. This room is split in half; one side is for babies 6 weeks to 1 year, the other side is for babies and toddlers ages 1 to 2 years. As you know, Jane started daycare when she was 13 weeks old, and just recently moved over to the more grown-up side of the Chickadee room, where I can only imagine they debate politics and the economy all day.

A woman, who I will call ML, is the head teacher of this room. She is probably in her late 40s, and has been working in the daycare biz for a long time. In fact, she and her second in command, who I will call A, have been working together for eight years. A is younger, in her mid-20s. Anyway, ML has been a really great resource to us in this stumbling, bumbling first year of parenthood, and while she surely says this to all of the parents, she claims to us that Jane is her favorite. And I eat it right up. ML has been Jane's main influence, aside from me and Greg, in her 11.5 months of life.

And now she's leaving. As I was dropping Jane off this morning, ML let me know that her last week is next week. And as much as I complain about daycare, having to bring Jane there, how much I wish I was a millionaire so I could stay home all day with her, how she's sick all the time, the hassle, the bills - I got all choked up. My eyes filled with tears and I got a big lump in my throat the second she told me the news. I could tell she was very upset too - she is leaving to take care of some family issues, and she told me how much she was going to miss Jane.

Jane loves ML. Every time I drop her off, she gets a big grin on her face as soon as she sees ML. This morning she was practically lurching out of my arms to go to ML. And sure, she's not old enough to ponder what happened to the nice lady who took care of her every day, but her daily reaction to ML makes me so grateful that ML has so obviously done such a wonderful job taking care of my daughter.

Don't get me wrong, I am happy with all of the primary teachers in Jane's room, and the rumor is that A will take over ML's position, which makes me happy for her. But I guess today I realized how much I depend on knowing that Jane is with people who genuinely care about her well-being. And ML is most definitely one of those people.