Can't Fit into My Mommy Genes

Month: December, 2011

Happy New Year’s Eve Eve

I think I might have jumped the gun and celebrated the new year last night.

What started as innocent dinner plans with a friend turned out to be a few beers, bowl of queso for dinner, stop by a random bar only to be hit on by old men kind of night.

We do have a tendency to binge with our chat sessions once we get together.  It’s how we always operate, so I will admit I prepped for a late night.  However, I didn’t anticipate getting home at 4AM.  But it was so fun and totally worth the tired eyes this morning.

We jumped from place to place, spending no less than 2 hours at each location.  At dinner, our waiter opened with “I bring you a bottle of tequila?  No.  Ok, a shot then?”

PS:  What made him ask us that question?  Do I look like I need a bottle of tequila or something?

When the restaurant closed down, we were forced to move onto to seedier establishments.   We were drawn to the nostalgia of a certain location that tends to produce forgotten friends from high school, all looking to see and be seen.  We made a few obligatory hellos, stared down a few that we thought we might know, and then kept to our highly entertaining conversation for the next few hours.

Sounds like the perfect night right?  Just when it couldn’t get any better, this random man drops in on our conversation to ask us to play a game of darts.  We promptly say “no thanks”, but he won’t take no for an answer.  A few of his completely crazy confessions later:  My 19 year marriage just ended, this is my 16 year old daughter at the Eifel Tower, this is a picture of my hand that some woman I dated wanted, these are my family pictures right before my wife divorced me, and did I mention I do mission work internationally?… just to name a few made us realize he was more than likely going to dress up in a Santa suit and probably shoot up the joint.

We quickly made our escape, laughing the whole way to the car.  That bottle of tequila was starting to look like a really good idea, right about now.

I take her home, but we keep talking until it is literally too late/borderline dangerous for me to be driving home sleepy (not drunk this time!).

Needless to say, I didn’t make the morning run I had scheduled for today.  Honestly, I felt pretty good about just getting my high heels on and getting out the door.

I hope everyone rings in 2012 with a fun story.  Enjoy yourselves!!

 

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A Toast to Tina Fey

My friend Rebecca (formerly of The Bert Alert, her blog is unfortunately on hiatus) sent this to me yesterday.  Made me laugh so hard.  It also made me realize I hope for the very same things.  Well, not the part about finance or high heels.

Tina Fey’s Prayer for a Daughter

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. … May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

From Bossypants, a book of smart, funny essays by American comedian and writer Tina Fey, b. 1970

The Day after Christmas

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas holiday and getting back to life/work today wasn’t terribly awful for you.  I treated myself to a cafe au lait and bran muffin at my favorite coffee shop to get myself motivated for the day.

I will admit, Terry and I were both not ready for the break to be over.  We were fondly remembering the 4-5 week breaks we had in college on our way home last night.  Now that was the life.  Laying around, catching up with high school friends, catching up on sleep, eating well balanced meals at normal times, shopping and lunching with my mom and sister are some of my favorite things about those long Christmas breaks.  I will say we still accomplish most of those things now in a more condensed version, but we have grown up some and taken on more responsibility.

Like this year, I made rice for my mom so she could take a shower before dinner.

I also helped set the table 1.5 times.

And I introduced my brother and sister-in-law (Drew & Maggie) to Rocky II.

If I can get them to watch 3-6, my holiday contribution will be complete.

Thanks to both my family and Terry’s family for allowing us to have the most restful and yummiest holiday possible!

Office Christmas

I haven’t decided yet if I want to stay at home once I have children or not.  The coolest part about my new job is that my boss knows this and is ready for either decision.  How great is that?! He is incredibly open to a lot of different situations, so it is really up to me to decide what I want for me.

I have a long time to debate over this, so I won’t bore you with my hypothetical situations just yet.  If you want to tell me what to do though, I’m more than open to suggestions 🙂

I periodically find myself thinking “I will miss this if I don’t work anymore” or “I will miss this once I have kids”.  I don’t know why I think that way.  It is kind of morbid, right?  It sounds like a tacky country song a la  I will miss her when she is gone… or some nonsense like that.

What triggered this thought today was a gift from one of my co-workers.  All week we have been exchanging baked goods, hand creams, gift cards, heck I even got a smoked turkey.  This time of year is always a little more relaxed around the work place, and I have to admit I love participating in it all.  Even though most of the gifts are relatively inexpensive, it is the camaraderie that they represent which I love.

This type of community may not necessarily be specific to the work place, so maybe I won’t have to “miss it” as much as I thought I would.  If it is, I could just work part time and make sure to collect all the loot anyways.  That smoked turkey looks good.

I wish you and yours a very merry holiday season.

 

Radiohead

I received this text from Maggie yesterday:

“Please enjoy your radio freedom. I am listening to Jake and The Neverland Pirates. For the 500th time.”

I was confused at first because why would I never not have radio freedom? Is this the Hunger Games?

Then it dawned on me Jake and The Neverland Pirates is not an indy band. Maggie is warning me that I will soon lose my ability to blast Tupac/Britney/Dolly Parton/Celine Dion/The Band Perry while pretending I know the words as I sing (or rap) along.

While this is good news for Terry and the poor souls who are stuck next to me at a stoplight, I must admit I was completely blindsided by this one.

Selfish Question: Can this problem be solved by driving a car with a DVD player in the back seat? Pop some headphones on the children and then everyone wins. Right?

If not that, Britney can you please release an awesome children’s album. Kind of like how Shrek is funny for both adults and children?

Fasting

I made an appointment for Terry and myself today for a physical.  It has been almost three years exactly since our last real checkup, so it is definitely time to face the music with our health.

And to conveniently make sure I’m really not pregnant once and for all.   We all know that little test this weekend didn’t give us 100% certainty.

The annoying thing about physicals is that they come with a fat side of blood work.  The needles and such wouldn’t be so bad, except you have to fast until it is time for your appointment.

My appointment isn’t until 1:30PM.   This means I’m going to be very hangry.*  Needless to say, I am totally regretting eating a small dinner last night.  I ate too many Christmas cookies at work, so I thought a small dinner was necessary.  I’m also regretting not waking up at 4AM to make sure I ate a giant breakfast before the 8 hours of fasting started.  If food can’t wake me up at 4AM, nothing really can.

I was doing ok until I got to work.  The first thing I see?  A choocolate bundt cake.  I wanted to rip the piece straight out of my co-workers arms.

Then I check my blogroll to see what is cooking in the blogosphere (pun intended).  The first thing I see?  Cake pops.  Now, I’m just close to tears.

I am strong.  I can do this.  I once did the master cleanse.  I just need to reach deep down inside me and find that same will again.

I just took a sudafed.  I do have a bit of a runny nose, but more importantly I thought it might supress my appetitite.  Here’s hoping.

Oh, and have I mentioned that Terry faints at the sight of needles/blood?  He does, bless his little heart.  And I’m probably going to faint from lack of nourishment.   At least we should keep things entertaining.  Merry Christmas Staff of Baylor Family Medical Clinic, you have something to laugh at for the rest of the week.

*Hangry:  a state of anger and irritability resulting from being hungry

The Do’s and Don’ts of Birth Control Pills

This weekend was sibling Christmas for my family.  Since we will be scattered around North and South America on the actual day of Christmas, we decided to do our gift exchange this weekend.

While getting ready for bed Saturday night, I stopped by my brother’s (Marc) room to ask him the correct way to apply eye cream.   Since he is a head and neck surgeon that specializes in facial plastics, he typically provides good advice when it comes to anti-aging.  Not only that, but people always think he is my younger brother, so the proof is in the pudding.

Not the point of this post, but I know you all want to know:  He says to apply it twice a day from the inner corner of your eye all the way to the temple.  Also spread it  down your nose (along your smile lines, and then cover the surface back to your temple.  Kind of like a triangle.  He says the skin in the middle of your face is the hardest to fix with surgery.  He also said any brand will do, even drugstore, just make sure it has retinoic acid in it, as it is the only thing truly proven to reverse/prevent aging lines.

That is when both of my sisters-in-law interrupt to warn me that I shouldn’t use cream containing retinoic acid if I am trying to get pregnant because it can severely deform your fetus.

Noted.

Then somehow this conversation led to how I take my birth control pills.  I explained that I have this habit of missing my first pill of the month.  I can never make it to the pharmacy in time, so I just take two the next day.  It never seemed like a hard and fast deadline, so I just get there when I can.

You should have seen the look on their faces.  Apparently, this is not how you should administer your birth control medication.   I also don’t take it at the same time every day.  Again, they look at me like I’m a giant idiot.  What, I thought that was a myth?!  At this point, Caro (sister-in-law who is also a doctor) tells me I am not allowed to have anything with retinoic acid until my child-bearing years are over because clearly I have a problem following directions.  She also repeatedly encourages me to give NuvaRing a try.

At this point, my other brother and sister have joined the conversation.  Terry is asleep in the other room, so it was five against one.   They pepper me with questions, and my feeble answers make everyone suspicious that I might be pregnant.  Did you know that you can have a period and still be pregnant? Maggie had a friend who had FIVE periods before she realized she was pregnant.  Duped again by something I thought was just a myth.

I naturally freak out and tell them I simply can’t have this baby.  It was just two weeks ago that I was severely intoxicated!!  My baby will not be normal, and I am still not ready to be a mother!!   Then I had to divulge some not great qualities about myself to support my argument for why this baby would not have a healthy start in life.  Things like: not eating enough all day, drinking lots of alcohol, taking several medications on the no-no list, not taking a vitamin pill, working out excessively…. you get the picture.

They assure me that healthy babies are born under worse conditions.

I don’t believe them.

We debate running to get a midnight pregnancy test, but we eventually decide against it.  Although I know I won’t be able to sleep, I also don’t want to know the truth.

So after dreaming of deformed children in my uterus all night, the next day I’m greeted with a Kroger brand pregnancy test, courtesy of my mother.  You should know that secrets don’t last long in our home.

She had my back though.  If she would have thought there was a chance I was pregnant, she would have bought a name brand.

Breakfast is interrupted by my entire family chanting for me to go take the test, so I resign myself to face the inevitable future:

One bar! Phew!!  The picture isn’t great, but I swear it reads “not pregnant”.

I think everyone was a little disappointed except for me.  I just really need to clean my act up a little more before seriously getting pregnant.  It was a tiny wakeup call for me.  Emphasis on “tiny”.  The test instructions said to pee for 10 seconds on the stick.  Well, I can’t just pee that long on command.  I got 5 seconds at best.

Everyone just shook their head.

Anna Marie

Today is my baby sister’s 25th birthday.

It is kind of hard to believe she is only 25 years old because she has so much wisdom and sophistication for someone her age.  Since she is 4 inches taller than me, and acts with more maturity than I could ever imagine to have, everyone naturally assumes she is the older one.    With botox and regular hair color appointments, I should be able to hold on to that impression just a few more years.

I’ve always said Anna is everything I wish I could be.  She continues to surprise me with her thoughtfulness and ability to change the world around her for the better.  And did I mention she is flawlessly beautiful?  And she has the funniest sense of humor.  The kind where you have to be smart to get her jokes, so when you do, you feel like you are part of an elite club.

I’m sure once I’m pregnant, people will ask me what gender I’m hoping for.  Truthfully, I’m not really sure what gender I would rather have.  My first initial thoughts are that I love little boys, and the Gage family name is counting on me to perservere (no pressure).  But little girls are so fun to dress!  I hope to have one of each at least, but doesn’t everyone?

After giving it a little more thought, really what I would wish for (if I was getting my way), would be for two little girls as close as my sister and I are.  I know you can get by in this world without a sister, even a sibling, but I promise you nothing can enrich your life more than a sister can.  Besides my marriage, no relationship will ever mean more to me than the one I share with her.

Happy Birthday sweet sister!

Because she is my sister, and therefore one-half of me.

– The Other Boleyn Girl

Ride of Terror

This morning I took both of my pets to the vet.  I know we’ve discussed Louis quite a bit in this blog, so some of you may not even realize I also have a cat named Miss America.  She is 10 years old, kind of a bitch, and has beautiful blue eyes.  We rescued her when I was in high school, and she has been the longest living pet I have ever had.

Like most former pageant queens, she is a little more flexible in her old age and always hungry.  She sleeps with me at night and will actually stay put in the same spot the entire night.  I can even hold her like a rag doll half the time.  Even though she isn’t as attention grabbing as Louis is, she still has a giant corner of my heart.

However, she hates Louis with every fiber of her being.  She literally pooped on my pillow 3 times after we brought him home two years ago.  She has probably seen The Godfather with me several times, so I think that was her best attempt at getting a horse head in my bed.

Miss America (I call her Missy for short) is constantly taunting poor Louis, and in return he eats all of her food.  It is quite comical to watch, and Terry and I thank our lucky stars every day that Missy has no claws.  If she did, Louis might not have survived in our home.

That brings us to the ride of terror this morning.  I had to have both of them in the confined space of the back seat of my car.  Fortunately, Missy was in her travel crate, so there was a barrier of sorts between them.  We had a short ride, so that was also in our favor.  Missy’s hisses and Louis’ panting were a great accompaniment to the Christmas carol filled trip.

The challenge of getting the mortal enemies into one car is quite the feat.  I can only imagine what it will be like with one or even two small children.  This morning I forgot two things at home (one of which was my Christmas cards that desperately needs to be mailed), and I spilled my coffee while Louis was jerking the leash.

And did I mention I was carrying two bags of poop while doing it all?  Stool sample, schmool sample.

Oh Angie

Our girl Angelina is in the news a little more frequently than usual these last few weeks.  She is out promoting her directorial debut In the Land of Blood and Honey, so with that comes the obligatory stream of interviews.

The most recent of her quotes include the following:

When asked in an interview with Marie Claire magazine about having more children, she says:  “Nothing planned at the moment, but we just don’t know. I could end up pregnant,”

Oh Angie, I love the casual drama of “I could end up pregnant”.  I’m sure she chose her words wisely just to keep us all a buzz.  However, can we all agree this is something you say after your, oh I don’t know… first baby? To be this casual after SEVEN makes me think they really are going for 14 children.  She ain’t scurred.

Like any newlywed, my whole married life I’ve been so annoyed with people asking me when I would start a family.  It is such a personal question, and although I know it comes from a good place, I still don’t love being put on the spot like that.  I guess Angie and I have that (like so many other things) in common.  What I’m surmising from this article is that no one quits asking you.  Not even after your 6th child.

I’m going to steal Angie’s line of “I could end up pregnant” to arm myself for the rest of the holiday party circuit this year.  If only I could copy her sexy pout too.