Boulder Sounds Nice

I hate the summer in Texas. I'm a native, so I should be used to this, but this SUCKS. I don't want to write (obviously - been almost two weeks since the last post), work, exercise, cook, eat, have sex, or really do anything that requires movement or effort. I just want to float in my pool with a cool beverage or sit in the over-airconditioned glory of our tv room (thanks to the mini wall unit) and watch BTVS reruns off the DVR while the cub happily plays independently with his blocks and toys. Every summer I dream of moving north, and this summer is no exception, although usually I don't start talking seriously about it until August.

The cub is braving the heat fabulously. If I would let him, he would spend every waking moment outside. In spite of slathering SPF 50 sunblock on him every day, he has acquired a slight browning to his arms and face. We have decided to try full-time daycare with him again. Now that he's fully mobile, he's getting bored at home. We take him to the park in the morning after breakfast, usually around 8:00, then on an errand after his morning nap before lunch to somewhere where we can let him run around a bit, and then I take him on another outing or DH takes him to Radijazz before dinner, and still he is bored and wanting some kind of excursion in the moments in-between. If DH or I go out the door during the day and don't take him with us, he has a full-on meltdown. So, we are registered at the Children's Courtyard at the Spicewood Springs location, because they have kick-ass play areas, and we'll see how it goes. I'm worried about him getting sick because we are currently on catastrophic coverage-type insurance (DH is currently job-hunting, but that's another story ...). But, I think the expanded play opportunities (and my expanded work opportunities) will be worth it.

We have friends in town from Dallas, which I love because then I get lots of girl-chat time without even having to leave the house. Tomorrow DH is leading a naming ceremony for their 6-month-old son. This will be DH's first naming ceremony, and he's considering it even more important than a wedding. He explained why to me, and it involved references to Wittgenstein and Derrida, so I won't try to elaborate. It should be lovely. And there will be sangria. Mmmmmm, sangria.


WooHoo! I Got To See a Movie! In a THEATRE!

Thanks to DH for taking the late-afternoon - evening shift tonight so that I could GO SEE A MOVIE! I was going to see the pirate movie (Johnny Depp in my favorite JD character) but it was sold out, as DH had warned (I should know by now to listen to him about ANYTHING having to do with movies), and I couldn't bring myself to purchase a ticket, leave the theater, and come back again to drive all over creation to find another parking space, so I opted to see something else - The Devil Wears Prada.

Very cute and fun. Stars two women who went to my alma mater, so of course I'm a tad biased, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself. And yeah, okay, I feel fat now, too, but that will wear off by tomorrow. In my (and probably most) line of work, it's possible, but not necessary, to lose oneself in one's work: to sacrifice relationships, friendships, dreams, integrity, your health - whatever - to get ahead. Historically, I don't know that there's ever been a time that women have had so much opportunity to live a life out of whack (other than the more socially acceptable lost-herself-in-her-kids option). And given that those of us in domestic relationships (I can only speak for hetero here) likely are still the primary caretaker of things domestic, if things start to get too demanding at work, we REALLY FEEL IT. Anyway, the movie reminded me of how much I LOVE my life (part-time freelance is da bomb), and I came home in time to catch the cub before he fell asleep and we cuddled and sang songs while he grabbed my nose and poked my teeth and laughed. Pardon my bliss.


Will I Get "It" Back?

Between family visits and holiday goings-on, I've been a busy little such-and-such. Hence the lack of posting over the last several days. It's like I've been walking around with an itch I haven't been able to scratch. Aaaah, that's better.

I was standing in the checkout line at my little neighborhood health-foods grocery (God bless them for staying open and providing a third alternative to the exhorbitant WF and massive madhouse HEB), and I noticed a very pleasantly scented candle in a clear glass votive, and I thought of how nice it would be to have it sitting on the back of the toilet in the hall bathroom where there is no fan, so that any guest's malodorous adventure is immediately broadcast to the public areas of the house. Then the increasingly vertical cubzilla entered my little daydream, and he stumbled in, saw the pretty shiny thing, reached up on his tippy-tippy toes, got it in his grasp, and dropped it. The candle immediately got a big mental "X" over it.

I do this a lot. I don't wear white anymore because DUH. I have these killer heels that I hardly ever wear because I'm frequently carrying the cub, generally over pavement to get from the car to the whatever, and like I'm going to pull a Brittney because spunky flats just don't look as sharp as a good heel. I hardly ever have time to do more than powder and lip gloss for make-up, I rarely cook anything too exciting anymore because usually I'm cooking for us AND the cub and I don't see a 15-month-old choking down a seriously rare steak with foie gras sauce - or heck, even beef stroganoff, and there are loads of lovely things I'd love to have around the house except that I've surrendered it to Fisher Price, Leap Frog, and Little Tykes.

As a temporary change, I don't really mind any of this. In fact, I'm kind of enjoying the metamorphosis that is parenthood, and lord knows my cooking techniques could stand a little shredded sweet potato, ground oatmeal, and wheat germ to balance things out a bit. But I'm a little scared that after five years of this, when I can start reclaiming some of the house, my time, my wardrobe, and the menu, that I will have forgotten how not to be like this. I'll forget how great it feels to wear a stunning white cotton skirt. I'll forget to add those little aesthetic/artistic touches around the house that make it just a little more soothing and calming. I'll have forgotten how to make bearnaise sauce. And will I ever get the melody to "A Bicycle Built for Two" out of my frickin' head?