Definitely not a good girl

No not Moo Moo, me. And only with respect to blogging. As always, lots has happened since I last signed in and posted. Most notably Moo Moo turned 1. I'm extremely greatful for all the well wishes we received for both our birthdays (me Aug 10, her Aug 11) and all the people that braved the heat to come and jam up in our living room for her party. To the Atlanta massive, nuff love... the auto cross the next day was very enjoyable even though I did get my teeth kick out. Fret not, October a beer tings!

Back to July though, my aunt and cousin came from London to visit and we had to go on vacation to Orlando by ourselves because they cancelled J's leave. That was very frustrating because this was our third honeymoon and since January we've all been planning on going together. My aunt had to talk all the way to and from Orlando, just so that I wouldn't fall asleep behind the wheel. I am definitely not a long-distance driver.

Moo Moo is officially a big little girl. She's been off baby bottles since August 6 when she moved up to the one year old room at day care. Now we've largely abandoned her onesies and she goes to class in shirts and shorts, skirts or pants. I'm happy because now I can also do her hair and put in clips (they were a choking hazard in the baby room).

Strangely enough I had very weird dreams this past week. I'm thinking it was because J was away at training. I'm just glad he's home now so I can get some sleep! I'd appreciate it though if a Jamaican could tell me what dreaming about windows, photo albums and wondering why someone didn't do something means.

Next up, the family heads to a nearby waterpark courtesy of the company yearly trip.

Ciao.

That fateful slap

There's a good reason I sit so far back from the front desk. Just a few minutes ago we had a squalling child in the office. Of course, my first reaction was to feel sorry for the mother. I do know what it feels like to flee a public place and retreat to the privacy of my car because my child was hungry/needed to be changed and decided the whole Wal-Mart should know. Then I started wondering why she didn't take the child outside. This after all is a place of business. I've taken Moo outside on many occassions, changed a diaper, fed her a bottle and then gone back to what I was doing.

Finally she left. Then I got the full story for the assistant who sits at the entrance to the newsroom (we have a very open floor plan here, all desks, no cubicles). She said she was this "thumb and forefinger about 1/2 an inch apart" close to grabbing the child. I laughed saying OK, isn't that overreacting a bit? Then she said that the child had hauled off and slapped the mother in the face. Even worse, she did nothing about it.

That right there is my biggest pet peeve and also one of my fears with raising Moo. Mothers who don't discipline there children when they're obviously rude and impudent. (Saying no and hitting a knee is one thing, but a slap to the face?) And it's not that I'm afraid that Moo will hit me and I'll be embarassed. She's bound to try one day. It's that I won't get her outside and to the car before I put the fear of God into her like my mother did. I don't even remember trying that with my Mom. That was just one of the deadly sins, never to be tried, just like swearing at her. I'd have to have been a certified case for Bellvue to try that madness.

So far though Moo has sense. The last time she reached out and slapped my face, I just pointed my finger and said, "No," in an authoratative voice. She's still less than a year old, can't it against her, but I sure can stop and make sure that she realizes it's an action that gets a "No."

Ahh, the joys of childrearing.

I found an interesting New York TImes article awhile ago (I'm emailing myself my blog entry from work). It's about Brooklyn community in New York called Park Slope that is apparently a mommy haven. http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/08/realestate/08cov.html?pagewanted=1

For the past couple days I've actually been thinking that I don't know how well I'd deal in a community like that. I definitely don't feel like super mommy and sometimes I'm not even sure I know what I'm doing. Oh I get the hang of feed, bathe, clothe, protect, but I keep wondering how I'll fare when it gets time to teach her things. Then I start freaking out about when is the time to start teaching her the names of objects, colors, numbers, shapes, etc. In fact, I just realized on Saturday that every time I go to my hairdresser I end up talking about how I scared I am that I'm going to mess up and not do anywhere near as good a job with Moo as I feel that my Mom did raising me.

That's a very sobering and numbing thought. I got short of breath the other night just thinking about it. I see people with their pre-teen and teenage daughters and wonder what Moo will be like then. I wonder if we'll have imparted good morales to her, because let's face it by the time she's hit 16 who she'll be will largely be in place already.

The other part that I've been thinking of is that I'm also not comfortable around large groups of Moms and babies. I went to a baby shower two weeks ago and I felt so out of place. I was the only the third black person there, but it's too easy to play the race card. I just don't think I'm the same kind of mommy that those there were. I don't call Moo's room a nursery, neither is it painted, nor is there any kind of color-coding going on in there. Her stroller and car seat never matched, and neither had even a passing acquaintance with pink. We're just different.

And that isn't to say that she doesn't get alot of love and attention. On the contrary, just this past Saturday she spent most of the morning hanging out with her Daddy in the garage helping him work on his car from her perch above a box. And she had a whole afternoon shopping incursion yesterday during which I realized that she loves people watching. And then she had the time of her life playing in the living room, crawling away from me and laughing so hard that she curled up like a little ball.

I think it's the baby-food-to-real-food transition stage that's unnerving me. I'm so scared I'm doing it toally wrong and she's going to end up with some random eating disorder. Yesterday I couldn't help but sit on the bed and just allow myself to "not be strong" and miss my Mom. I sure wish she was around to help and play grandma.

Catching up

Gosh, it really has been ages since I last blogged. You never really notice until you log in and see the last blogged date that Blogger so handily displays on the dashboard page. (Thanks to you too Nadz for pointing out how long it's been!) Needless to say alot has happened in the past couple weeks. Of course a fair amount of that has to do with the girl... so I'll start there.

Last night pretty much sums up where she is now, on the path to baby independence. I spread a plastic drop cloth in the kitchen and fed her vienna sausage and baked beans while she fed herself a slice of toast. Last week I watched her stand up against the dishwasher and wail away at it while "talking" to me and laughing. She also fell asleep in the pool - yes, in the pool. Being a parent is amazing, all these little moments when taken together make for memories that I'm sure I can share with her and tease her with when she's older. The sausage and beans episode had me cringing because for some reason she likes to toss her food around before settling down to eat... I'm telling myself that's just a phase. The pool, now that was nice. We had her in a baby life vext towing her around the pool when at one point I said to J, "Babe, does she just have her eyes closed against the sun, or what?" Nope. My girl was fast asleep. No one could believe it because we were at the public base pool with kids laughing and carrying all around her. Adorable.

One of the other glass balls we all juggle is of course work. I'm not too happy with myself that I haven't been writing a column, but I want to focus more on learning how to write editorials and ensuring that the opinion pages are the best product I can put out there. I've already contributed $10 to the "Error Pig" at work and I'm not trying to pay for style books and donuts for the whole department at the end of the year. (We contribute $5 whenever an error someone has made results in a correction.) Both mine had to do with the weekly poll question. Just goes to show that it wasn't a fluke why I failed A Level accounts. Maaaaad LOL Other than that I could myself as truly blessed. The work load isn't by any means light but I work in a fun department and have a great boss. Seriously cannot complain.

Looking forward to my Aunt and cousin coming across the pond to visit soon. Unfortunately they've cancelled J's vacation leave (which we put in from January, but anyway, let me not get started there). So needless to say it's not going to be as much fun as we'd planned and if it wasn't for my Aunt and cousin I'd definitely reschedule, but such is life. At least we could rearrange the plans so we'll be together on our anniversary. I'm going to see if we can get some go-kart action going... that should be really fun :)

Lastly, we've been enjoying our new home. There are some growing pains with our homeowners' association but I don't regret us moving because it is truly amazing to be able to own our own home at our age. And it's so cozy!

I've got to appologize to anyone who was looking for an opinion type blog. Don't have that in my tonight at the moment although I do have some views on people driving new parents crazy and what we do to make things bad on ourselves, but right now I just want to unwind and do some simming...

Ciao.

PS - I aced my first MA class with 98% ;)

Almost there...

I'm about to start the last main section of my paper. All I'll have left then is to do the Introduction and the Conclusion and then proof it. After that I'll have to defend it (someone will post two critical questions about my paper) and I also have to come up with two questions about someone else's paper and then that's it! This course will be over and behind me...

• Mood: stuffy but still slogging...
• Music: Amy Winehouse - Rehab