Blank Page

I can’t believe how behind I am in posting here. So many times a day I think that I need to come write, and that time just doesn’t exist anymore. I really wish that it did. I wish that I could be with all the people I love and do all the things I want and still have time to sleep. Life just isn’t like that. In life you spend more time working than you should, but not as much time as you think you need to. You never have enough time for the people who mean the most. And sleep, well, that’s just funny some days.

I can’t complain really, as I see that most parents have it harder than I do. I have nights that I go out and leave my baby with her grandparents or her father, and don’t come home until after she’s asleep. Plus, the most amazing thing about Rachel is her ability to get a solid 11 hours of sleep straight. I don’t think I’ve done that since I was, well, probably 5 months old just like she is now. Boy do I wish I could sleep 11 hrs every night. This all does mean that there is time when Rachel is asleep and Josh and I are both awake, so we do get glimpses at our life as a couple, but it’s still hard.

Rachel now giggles. She doesn’t just randomly giggle – she finds things funny. She’ll like a toy, or a look on someone’s face, or kisses on her tummy, and she’ll laugh with joy or amusement. No way to know which. I love the idea that she already has a sense of humor. Seeing her happy is the best. I feel like everything I do is worth it. Even the daycare tells me what a good baby Rachel is. They say she loves other kids, loves to “talk” (ahhh-buuuuh is about as much as she can do at this point), and loves to people-watch. Gosh, I wonder if she’ll take after me. 🙂

There’s definitely a lot more to say, and a lot of things have pissed me off lately. I’ve always been a tad bit of a feminist, but now that I’m the mother of a girl I think that I’m even more so. I mean, I care that she not only has options, but that they be real options. I may dress her in a lot of pink, but I’m hoping that while she may “enjoy being a girl” she has the sense to not listen to anything anyone may tell her about what being a girl means. Sugar and spice and everything nice my ass. That’s a recipe, not a lifestyle.

Rachel may only be 3 months old, but she has a lot to say. She coo’s all the time. She’s getting out consonants as well as vowels. Every day I hold her in my arms and rub her under her chin. That’s when she “talks” the most. So much to say. I coo back. Apparently that encourages language development. Plus, it’s cute and silly. “A-gggah!” seems to be a favorite for us. She frequently says “meh”, but at times that indicate she doesn’t know what it means. She’s a baby, so she should probably stay away from words as dismissive as that anyway. She’ll have much more to “meh” about in her teenage years.

I’m trying to be careful about what I tell her. I don’t want to just call her a pretty baby. Of course, to me she’s the prettiest baby that ever was, but that’s not the point. I want to call her smart and strong as well. I want her to know that she truly can be anything she wants to be. That I just want her to be the very best Rachel, without any expectations, because I love who she is. Period.

It’s easy to call her strong because she really is. If I let her hold my pinkies, she can stand. She’s starting to master sitting up. She can hold on to my hair with some sort of death grip (fun for her, not for me). Each little achievement is exciting in a way that I never imagined. She’s a person, and she’s a part of me.

We took Rachel to Brasserie Beck on Saturday night. We went early in an attempt to NOT interrupt everyone else’s date night. That didn’t work completely, but mostly because Rachel got hungry. Well, it’s only fair, everyone was eating but her I suppose. Anyway, so that the whole dining room didn’t have to hear her scream, I fed her at the bar, and took her for a walk to see the open kitchen. Bright lights, sparkling pots and pans and lots of movement made for a great distration. The executive chef, the waitstaff, and the hostesses all came over to compliment Rachel. It felt good to have so many people admire my child. She stood on the oyster bar. Good girl.

Right now it’s exciting to hear her begin to talk, move and grow. I hope I still feel the same way when she’s running in circles around the kitchen, screaming “mommy”, repeatedly, at the top of her lungs, and banging into the furniture as she goes.

Of all the sad, sad ways that readers have found this blog (searches for tampons, dates, turkeys…it really is frightening), the most depressing is the person who googled “back growns for a blank page”. I can only assume this person was looking for backgrounds.

I review all the resumes that come in to my company, and I try not to judge. Really. But if you’ve been an “analyst”, if that has actually been your title, don’t you think you should know how to spell it? In the very least, shouldn’t you know how to use spellcheck? Today I got a resume from an “annalist”. She didn’t get the interview.

Recently I received a resignation letter. I can only assume, as she no longer shows up, that it was a resignation letter. The letter did not mention resignation. It read, “This is my letter of recognition”. One wonders what she recognized.

Every time I say “thank you” to someone in an email and I receive “your welcome” as a reply I want to take back my “thank you”. Ick. As there is no way to spellcheck your way out of that one, I’ll be somewhat flexible. Still, ick.

I’m really hoping I don’t make these sort of mistakes. At least not with any regularity.

I don’t typically like to write about tv, much less American Idol, but I do have to say this. If you’re on any audition at all, and one of the judges raises his sheets of paper from his desk such that his face is covered from the nose down, it’s safe to bet that the paper is the only thing preventing you from watching someone laugh in your face. How do the contestants, as young as some of them might be, not understand that this is what Randy is doing? The fact that Simon IS laughing in their face is just confirmation that they have stepped over some line from “bad” to “comically bad”. So, here’s some advice for all would-be idols. Do not get mad at Simon – he is just doing in the open what Randy is doing behind the thin veil of a sheet of paper. You may as well find out now that you are not talented, and act accordingly. This is a great lesson in self-awareness, so take advantage of the learning opportunity. This does not mean you have no talent, it just means that your talent isn’t singing. Get over it. Move on. Everyone has a talent and you now know that yours is not singing, so that’s one down from the list of possible gifts. Dreams should not be broken, they should just change over time.

Now please excuse me while I attend to the screaming baby.