Calling myself out

So, a couple of months ago I rented Fantasia 2000 for Olivia hoping that it would allow her a more concrete vision for some admittedly challenging music for a three year old. Well, it worked too well. One of the lighter pieces was Rhapsody in Blue and I don't know if it was the animation or the music, but she went nuts for it. I had to pay my $.99 to iTunes for it because I couldn't get it to come up often enough on the satellite radio.

Today I took her to a program where a member of our local orchestra plays their instrument for kids and does a little talk and plays a little music. Well, it was the clarinet and she played the opening bars of. . .you guessed. I thought she was going to crap her pants, seriously. She starts jumping up and down screaming "Rhapsody in Blue!!" over and over. I see this poor musician, still playing just start staring at me. So I am trying to quiet her down and she is having a fit, now all the parents are looking at me and I am sure they are thinking, "How the hell can this kid recognize this song?" As a parent I have two options, play it off like, "Yeah, my kid's a prodigy, she has Gershwin memorized. Your kid doesn't know the alphabet? Oh so sorry. " Or I can own up to the fact that I planted my kid in front of a Disney movie and try and pretend that was okay because classical music was involved.

I chose to just let it ride and see what happened after the program was over. Which was Olivia running over to the musician and informing her of all the things that she ate while listening to Rhapsody in Blue. Then performing a strange impromtu dance. So there you have it. My reward for listening to all 16 minutes and 35 seconds of freaking Rhapsody in Blue three times a day for weeks has been that about a dozen parents out there think that I am either:

A) One of those psycho parents who drill their child in iconic jazz pieces.
B) I am the chagrined parent of an idiot savant who is obsessed with her own diet.

Karma is a bitch.

We cut to win

I am looking at a flier on my desk entitled All About YOUR Vasectomy, as if other brochures talked about OTHER peoples vasectomies. So here it is, the blog post you may not want to read about Chad and I's quarter -life crisis. Chad turned the big 3-0 last year and I will be turning thirty, eventually, and we are having a crisis. I think at one point people had these when they turned forty or even fifty, that moment where you ask yourself what have I done? Or worse yet, what now?

My friends who are almost all thirty, some quite near to forty, laugh at me with some bitter derision that I am afraid to turn thirty. The last few months have been starting to feel like all the decisions in my life are getting replayed for me, my friends are finally getting married and having babies, things I did nearly (ouch) a decade ago. Now this, the V word. I won't get into the gritty details of the back and forth of this decision, suffice to say Chad thinks he is done and I wasn't ready to call it quits. Yet, I can honestly say that it has nothing to do with having more children. As much as I love children and opening my home to the children of my friends, I like my me time and more kids equals a lot less of that. Yes, yes we have heard all the arguments for siblings and we don't buy them. It is nothing against my friends and relatives who want to have numerous children, I love siblings, my own included, it is just not for me. Why then is it so hard to say that I don't want any more kids? Mostly because then I have to figure out what's next.

I have to admit that this is it, this is all that there is: one kid, one house, the spouse, his job. That is the sum total of my life. It shouldn't be a crushing realization, I love all these things very much, well maybe not Chad's job. But I love the money, yes I do. Now here is where I want to state that I do not want six posts from everyone telling me to get a job. A job is not what is missing. A career, even when I loved my job, and I did have jobs and co-workers that I really loved, most of the time just felt like one more thing pulling me yet another direction. I love the path that I have chosen, I guess I just wish that it felt cooler. I know, lame! Can the ennui really be just about not being the person I thought I would be? Did that rhyme? I read Candide at fourteen, I sang "When I Was A Teenage Whore" in the mirror before Hole was the Courtney Love show, I got kicked out of AP English for calling my teacher a dilettante. I maintained cool for a good long time, through college, what happened to me? Explaining Diane Arbus to Olivia just isn't cutting it.

It's like the doctor told Chad today, we cut to win.

Exhausted

This has been one of those weeks where everything was clicking so well at the beginning and as we are reaching the end I am dragging my ass across the finish line. The other down side of my job, no weekends off. I have some good posts about my on-going quarter-life crisis, my recent hair cut and Chad's new business idea, but not today, not today.

Another dream crushed

Why didn't I stop talking about it and just do it? This guy did.

Why iPod's shuffle feature will change the world

So I am cleaning around the sink with a toothpick-what do you mean why? How else do you clean between the lip of the sink and the counter? No, it is not OCD. Obviously you and your mother did not enjoy special bonding time over scrubbing the refrigerator with Q-tips. That's not weird! No, my mother does not have a distorted view of work ethic. Who asked you anyway?

Moving on, I am cleaning and I have my iPod set to shuffle. Fugazi comes on. I don't remember downloading it, it must have been in the heady days of "reclaiming" music from record industry moguls via Napster. Damn the man. Anyway, it totally took me back to my first concert as a teen and those great times when you are sixteen and invincible. I am not a musically talented person, quite the opposite, but as I get older I am starting to develop a real emotional attachment to music and how it defines me. I now consider my shuffle to be a totally comprehensive view of myself, Marvin Gaye, Wilco, Kanye West were what followed my Fugazi. iTunes may do nothing but make Steve Jobs a great big pile of money. But, it might also change the world by reminding us of where we have been, extending the invincible us.

I am currently at war with my husband to get his (and the kid's) junk off my iTunes. Nothing kills my momentum like Dar Williams, ugh make it stop. By the way, note to the Pentagon, if you are looking for a new way to torture people in secret prisons, play them the same three Snow Patrol songs in a row, over and over and over again. I'm pretty sure that Chad has either inserted subliminal messages into this album or is trying to wear me down to the point where I buy him his own iPod. I hear it my sleep. . .

Olivia's first game

I find it a little ironic that Olivia was taken to her first live baseball game by her mother and not her baseball obsessed father. Jocelyn and Daisy (pictured with O) invited us to a UW girls softball game and we had a blast, even though it was pretty cold. Olivia actually enjoyed the game itself, (which bodes well for Chad's Father's Day gift), but Bucky Badger was definitely the highlight. I wish I had videoed them dancing together and cheering on the team. Though Chad and I keep emphasizing that girls play sports like soccer and softball, I think we are fighting against the tide of a natural born cheerleader.

Best job ever

Okay, so some days my job sucks: bodily fluids, housecleaning, temper tantrums, immunizations, you get the idea. Today is not one of those days. Today it is 75 degrees and sunny and the kid and I went to the lake. We picnicked, we wandered, we fed ducks and ate orange sherbert. When was the last time you ate orange sherbert? Now I am going outside to set up a very elaborate tea party for my good girl. Iced chamomile tea, bare feet in the grass, this is a pretty sweet gig. I hate to brag, but unless you are in my yard in an hour, today is just not the day it could be for you.

I promise I will blog tomorrow and tell about cleaning the stain of unknown origin under my dishwasher if it will make you feel better?

Weekend Warriors

After several weekends of not being at home Chad and I tore it up this weekend. We saw some of our favorite friends (we love Ang and Mike!) took Olivia to see some awesome South American dancers, the youth orchestra, a play date and the soccer at the park. I think Chad and I enjoyed soccer more, though. I finally tackled risotto and all the stirring IS worth it. Chad and I are catching up on our movies and we decided to buy a new car.

This was huge because Chad and I never decide anything. We debate, we argue and then we avoid all major purchases. Sometimes it is about money, sometimes it is about nitpicking details (For instance, I refuse to have another maroon car. Matching cars are dorky!!!!), but usually it is about need. What he thinks we need and what I think we need. However, this time even I need to admit that Chad's hatchback is not exactly a family-friendly vehicle. When Olivia tells me she can't move her legs in the backseat because they are too squished against the seat in front of her; I need to cede my socio-economic argument against consumerism and let Chad buy a new car.

Lucky for me, he knows exactly what he wants and he test drove it this weekend and now it just comes down to haggling with the salesman. Ugh, nothing makes me feel more drained of self respect than negotiating with car salesmen. So another Ford for our clan, could we be more Midwest?

Call me

I know this is one of those verboten things that a mother is never ever supposed to complain about and should always be grateful for. I am sure the following post is going to incur the wrath of the Fates and my child will grow to love only glitter make-up and "Road Rules" marathons, but here it goes:

Call me if you are able to assist with one of the following:

• You know a children's book publisher. If part of the qualification for their job is you have read every single children's book published-EVER. They need to call me.
• You are a child psychologist who studies children with some kind of disorder that forces them to read book after book after book-after book. You need to call me.
• You are the news editor at the New York Times and you need a consultant on how to make your paper more pre-schooler friendly for those poor parents out there who are reading it to their children in a desperate attempt to get them to stop asking you to read to them. You need to call me most of all.
• You are my parent or my father-in-law and you can explain to whether this is a gene pool thing and we did this as children. On second thought-you probably shouldn't call me. I will blame you for doing this to me. Then I will put your grandchild on the phone. She wants you to read a book to her.
  

The Paradox

So Angie informed that if I am going to have blog I need to spend more than 30 mins on-line a day. So decided to see what was out there and this is what I found. Perhaps the number one "relationship killer" is your "discreet love affair?"

Stormy Weather

So much for balance. We had our first Spring thunderstorm last night, which feels a little early (paging Al Gore). Thunderstorms are our favorite part of Midwest weather and make me feel ready for Spring. It doesn't hurt that we just painted Olivia's en suite a very bright yellow and covered it with flower and bug decals. Normally I would consider this decor a little loud, but after what feels like a long winter, it is making me smile. And maybe wince, just a little.

I can't wait until I get to take more photos like this one from last year of Olivia in one of her famous Carrie Bradshaw ensembles. They are all stripes, and therefore they match!

Small World

So, just out of curiosity, I clicked the "next blog" button so see who was next to me in the blogosphere and it was a medical journal in a completely different alphabet. Arabic, Russian, couldn't tell you? It was cool, though, the next one is all in Italian. I think of blogging as a total narcissistic indulgence and therefore, uniquely American. Good to know that the whole world has obnoxious tendencies.

Vernal Equinox

It's all about balance. Today is the vernal equinox which means it is one of two days in the year where the sun is directly above the equator. Translated, the day is nearly as long as the night. I think we get within 14 mins in our part of the world. Anyway, I am all about balance. I am psychotic about planning Olivia's and my day for activity and rest, Chad and I perfect opposites, even our menu is always food group, non meat/meat balanced.

So I am looking forward to tonight when we have our only night this week that we can spend together as a family. We will make it a good one and hopefully, it will be enough to balance out the rest of the week's craziness.

Olivia's motley crew

What is the propoganda machine that is California? Going through these photos it was nude beach shot after nude beach shot, one had a random golden retriever in it? Where are the photos of ten thousand strip malls that all look alike and bumper to bumper traffic? That's what I remember when I leave California. By the way, who dressed this child. In the zoo pictures she is wearning a dress, jeans, a sweater and ruby slippers. More importantly, who are the gays that let him get away with it?

They're baaaack. . .

My California crew is back and I am sort of glad. While I can't say that I desperately missed the little one I did really miss her Daddy. I am glad that Olivia and I got a break from each other and I am ready to take on Spring with Olivia. Bike riding, sidewalk chalk, bubbles and lots and lots of running. On second thought, maybe I need another week off?

Your Comments

Sorry gang, I thought the comments got e-mailed to me first, but really they just sit on Blogger until I release them into the wild. So they are now free and roaming the page.

The Most Wonderful Time of The Year

No, I am not referring to Christmas in March, though that is going on in the form of Olivia's birthday. I am referring to the Wisconsin Film Festival. It is no SXSW but those of us who have been attending it for a few years (seven) have gotten to be proud parents of a festival that has really grown. So my girls Sarah and Heather and I went out and tore it up last night, and by tore it up I mean we had ice cream and pizza, and we pored over this year's entries.

Now here is where my partiality to S & H shows because these girls have a system. I mean they had the schedule so throughly reviewed that I needed a key to figure out their marking system. I will not confirm or deny the fact that back when I was childless and attended more films than I do these days that I had a chart. . .but my OCD is another post for another day.

So I will be spending the next few weeks reading up on short films from Mali bargaining for tickets and reliving my film programming days from college. Back when I was at least closer to hip than I am now. I hear the siren call of the Mom jeans with their non-ass showing properties, but I will hike these up and curse the Gap for one more year.

Here we are

This is Olivia and I enjoying her new easel. It is too bad that there is no audio feed to this picture so that you can hear the little dictator in action. I am merely an apprentice that assists the great master. "No, Mommy the snake's teeth have to be bigger, BIGGER!"

Five Days of Freedom

Okay everyone, as promised the five days of freedom has produced The Blog. I know that it is supposed to take five minutes to create one of these things, but Google is killing me with these templates. Seriously, the crack team of Google who can change the world, this is the best you have? Nowhere is there someone who took an Annex class on web design? Next vacation, learn to write HTML. I guess I have to figure out how to text on my phone first.

Anyway, I know that I promised to have pictures of the baby, but apparently what needed to come before the blog was labeling my picture files so I will work on that. So thanks for stopping by and now you know where I'm at.