times and places

I'm moving.

Update your links, people!

Sometimes I feel weak for wanting to surround myself with like-minded folks. Aren't we supposed to challenge ourselves? Shouldn't we be willing to stand up for our convictions?

I guess. I just feel like...I don't like fighting everyday. I don't like the toll it takes, arguing and pushing and debating on a constant basis. It's not that I don't appreciate other points of view. I do. It's not that I don't love people who believe things radically different than I do. I do, too.

I guess it's just that in my day to day encounters, in the people I have casual conversation with, in the people who I'm going to hang out with and be free with...I want to be that. Free. And I want to be supported. Don't we all? I want to say what I want to say and have some "yeah" thrown my way.

It can get discouraging to be in a world that doesn't value the same things I do and seemingly doesn't seem to value me for who I am...a woman, a person of hispanic heritage, a parent of more than two. And more. It's not a good feeling, knowing that over all your culture does not value you as a human all that much. I want to spend the majority of my personal time around people who DO value other humans. I guess that's what it is.

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I live in California and we are having a huge budget crisis. They want to lay off state workers because we don't have enough to pay everyone. One suggestion was to give everyone a pay cut. And everyone freaked out and screamed and said "Noooo! You can't cut my pay!!". And, I'm sorry, but I've been a state worker. My husband is a state worker. They get paid just fine and they have excellent benefits. It's a far superior job than just about anything else comparable out there.

I would be willing to sacrifice a percentage of our income if it meant our friends and neighbors got to keep their jobs. Isn't it better for all of us in the end if more people stay employed? Do people not realize the social ramifications of high unemployment?

The whole thing has been very depressing to watch. Some people are saying that in reality the worst that will happen is some state workers will lose some paid holidays and that's it. I hope so. Things are bad enough right now without people losing jobs.

In my group of friends, I'm the loud one, the blunt one, the straight shooter, if you will. I say things that my friends often won't, either because they have much more tact or class than me or because they are just plain smarter.

But sometimes I wonder if I'm just weird and think weird things and see the world in a weird way and maybe that's why it is that I say things other people don't. Adding the internet into that mix makes me wonder if my thoughts and behavior are REALLY weird.

The lovely Suebob of Redstapler is headed to my next of the woods and she is coming here and meeting up with Count Mockula. Now, I've been following Suebob for a long time, but I had never heard of CM, and this fun little blogger lives in my town. In fact, she lives somewhere within a mile or so radius from my house. How do I not know her?

She seems about my age. She has a baby just a smidge older than my baby (and extremely cute with a very cool and unique name, just like my baby). She has a tall skinny hubby, like me. She's somewhat punk rock (ok, she's hell of punk rock, WAY more than me but in a way I'd like to be). She dressed her kids in Paul Frank. She slings her baby. Her family just took a trip to Santa Cruz and went all the places that we went on OUR recent trip to Santa Cruz. She's, like...a cooler version of me. At least from the superficial things I've gleaned from her blog.

And this is why I think I'm weird.

Because, it's very possible that I've seen her around. (In fact, I used to go all the time to see the band she is/was in). And when I see women like that around, particularly at my local Trader Joes (which is where I usually see other 30-something progressive/punk/liberal mamas) I always think "How do I not know this person?". And sometimes I even have the fleeting thought of walking up to them and giving them my card and saying, in a very 3rd grade kind of way "My name is Smarmy Mama, do you want to be my friend?".

I mean...am I weird that I look at other women around town and think "I should be friends with that person" or "How am I NOT friends with that person!??".

I live in a fairly progressive/lefty part of town and so I see these women out and about with their little ones fairly often. I can't tell you how many times I've held myself back from trying to make small talk...for what? Just because we kind of look like we lead similar life styles! Is that weird?

Confession: There was a Dansko wearing mama wandering Trader Joes a few weeks ago and her babe was wearing a kind of cloth diaper that I use. And you know what I did? I faked asking about what kind it was (even though I knew) just to try to make small talk!!

Whenever I feel this way or do something silly like that, I always wonder...am I the only freak who does that?

And, I wonder if it's ridiculous of me to wonder how I don't know these women. Yes I live in a big city, technically, but the particular part of town I live in feels so very small. The social circles are so small and so intertwined. I honestly will ponder for days how it's possible I don't know every other hipster mom in town when in reality, it's probably pretty stupid of me to even think that's possible. I mean, OF COURSE I don't know them all. I don't even hardly leave the damn house most of the week, for pete's sake.

Anyways...

Because of Suebob, I wandered around CM blog and found out who she was. And it was cool seeing my city through another's eyes. That was fun.

I wonder, though, if I'm the only 30-something year old woman around here who contemplates ways to make friends with people just because they look like they are kind of the same. Maybe I'm just a big weirdo.

Either way, Count Mockula, I promise I did not and will not stalk you. I would like to think that everyone is interested in other people around them who they have things in common with, but maybe I'm the only one.

Yesterday morning, after the millions of presents were opened, as my two oldest were finishing their french toast I'd made them, they both stopped and said to me "Thank you for breakfast, mama. And thank you for all my presents".

It was possibly the sweetest gift I could have been given and an assurance that maybe, just maybe, I'm not screwing this parenting thing up too badly.

Being the modern fractured family that we are, the holidays are underway with Christmas 1 out of the way.

Christmas 1 was with my parents. We drove up Friday night, just as I was feeling a tickle in my throat. By the time I hit the sack in my brothers guest room, my throat was fiery agony. I cooked a big dinner of tri tip, baked potatoes, salad, green bean caserole, and rolls for my family. It was well received. The Hub got me some Nyquil and I had a slightly better nights sleep last night.

I'm a little sad that I was feeling so crappy for the visit with my family. I would have liked to have had more energy and to have enjoyed myself more.

I now I have two days of work and then it's Christmas 2, on Wednesday, which will be with my mother in law. God bless her, she always cooks up a huge amazing spread and I don't have to do a darn thing other than show up, let her ply my children with sugar, ply me with sauvignon blanc, and get presents. So, this year, even if I'm not feeling so well, at least I have no work to do.

We will be spending Christmas 3, or ACTUAL Christmas, at home. Alone. Just our (not so) little family. I think we've both wanted to do this for a long time, but this is the first year we can do so, guilt free. So we'll take what we can get. I'm looking forward to it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, a dose of NyQuil and some kleenex are callin' my name. I need to rest up and be well for the next Christmas.

I have a very blessed life. So much so, in fact, that I spend a lot of time wondering what horrible thing is going to happen to me, because no one just has this wonderful of a life without some rain clouds here and there.

I am so completely and totally content and happy when my house is clean and orderly. It makes me so happy.

We got our tree last weekend. And by Friday it was dead. We went to a cut-your-own place to avoid this and it still died. (It was cheap, I think the place we went to sells trees that are not especially meant to be cut down and kept in a bowl of water) So I obsessed about it all last week as the days saw the tree getting dryer, not taking up water, and the branches drooping. I could hardly think of anything else except the idea of all the needles that would drop on my floor, the possible fire hazard, and how pathetic the darn thing looked. So we went to Target yesterday and bought a fake tree. And I love it. I love that it will always be straight. I love not stressing about watering it. I love that it is the perfect tree shape. I love that it won't drop needles. I love that my cats won't eat it and then barf in the dining room.

Also this weekend I did my annual "toy clean up". This is when I go through and seriously weed out toys to prepare for the incoming ones. I completely cleaned and organized all the toy boxes and baskets. I'm sure no one else notices but I do and it just feels so nice that there is one less source of clutter and mess around for the time being.

I did a lot of other cleaning. The hidden cleaning the people don't really notice like dusting and cleaning floors. And I feel so happy and content. My house feel comfortable and cozy and nice. Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. :)

I overslept this morning. What a yuck feeling, being comfy and cozy in a nice bed and having to be rushed out of it.

I wanted to do a project with the kiddos, didn't plan it well, and it has to be postponed till tomorrow.

After three weeks (yes WEEKS) of downed service with our cable/internet/phone provider we switched providers and had our install for the new provider today. The guy showed up at 11am, worked, managed to let our small dog escape, and by 6pm still hadn't finished the install. We finally sent him home, eager to have our home, privacy, and quiet back. The baby needed to sleep, we needed to eat. Hub has now been on the phone with the tech support for an hour and I have to go through yet another "install appointment" at some point.

When I went to fetch the escapee dog, who had been picked up by a nice neighbor, I found out that the petty theft crime spree in my neighborhood is worse than I'd thought. Houses are being broken into all over, nearly daily. I live in a nice neighborhood, and thus rarely see a cop. *sigh* Worry worry worry worry. We shall not be putting out our Christmas presents until that morning, that's for sure.

Worked really hard with potty training one of the little girls I watch. Frustrating.

But tonight...

Once the cable guy was gone, I put on my iPod and it, thankfully, played me Iron and Wine and Death Cab and Feist and other mellow things I needed to hear. My son leaned against my side and told me he loved me and we played silly video games for a bit before he fell asleep on me. Small escapee dog curled up next to him. The picture of adorable.

The day was rough but it was worth it to have the last bit be so sweet.

When you have a baby, you long for that night the baby FINALLY sleeps all night.

What you don't realize is that it doesn't mean you'll get a good nights sleep. What it, in fact, means is that you will wake approximately one hour past your baby's normal wake time and realize he hasn't woken, wonder if he died in his sleep, spend twenty minutes trying to convince yourself that you're being ridiculous and paranoid before you finally just get up and put a hand on him and assure yourself he's sleeping. You then get back in bed, wide awake at 3:30am, and count the minutes until the baby ACTUALLY wakes.