Thursday, July 23, 2009

Bitch-Fest: The Sun is Finally Out of Cancer, But I'm still Complaining

We're moving! Finally! And I can hear the sigh of relief from all that have endured my complaining and complaining about our current place. (Thanks for listening, by the way.)
So here is the BIG LIST of all the things I will definitely not miss about this place.

1. Landlord.
2. The old dinky wall heater in the living room that is only good for warming up the person sitting on the end of the couch.
3. Street Parking: When you have a baby and groceries and have to park wayyyyyyy down the street because everyone has parked on the street for all the restaurants: Not happy. Street sweeping on Tuesdays and Wednesdays at 8am. So Monday night and Tuesday night you can't go out after 5pm because you won't get a parking spot on the right side of the street, and if you go out in the morning, there are still no spots, so you park in the alley, but then the husband has to be late for work because the baby is sleeping and he needs to move the car for the dumpster trucks that come all day long. Repeat every week. Which brings us to...
4. Dumpster trucks, service trucks, repair trucks constantly banging and beeping right behind the building. We are right next to Warner Brothers Marketing building, so many dumpsters.
5. Landlord
6. Cruise night at Bob's Big Boy down the street. Every hot rod and stupid-loud motorcycle blasts down the street. You can't hear what Steve Colbert is saying!!!
7. Construction that has been going on for THREE YEARS on the highway. Getting on the highway is a major pain, and they detour traffic down our street.
8. Building is stucco and plaster and retains the 100 degree heat all night long.
9. One outlet per room.
10. Every day I can wipe away black tar-like smog grit off floors and surfaces.
11. No laundry
12. No dishwasher
13. Old crank windows, half of which don't work or latch closed, and into which air conditioners do not fit.
14. Landlord.
15. 5'X 5' kitchen.
16. Floors that creak so loudly they have woken Aidric up out of sound sleep.
17. Doors that have been painted so many times with cheap dirt colored paint that they don't close, or POP every time you open them, waking up baby again.
18. Mold in the caulking.
19. Beautiful hexagonal counter tiles whose grout has long since disintegrated and been replaced with 50 years of crusted in dirt.
20. Landlord.

And that is the last time you will have to listen to me whine and moan about it!

Having the most wonderful neighbors in the world has been the saving grace and has softened all our suffering. We will miss them terribly!

New apartment pics coming soon.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Aidric 10 1/2 Months

I always think of these deep and poignant things to write about when I am trying to fall asleep or sitting at the playground. When I am here actually writing, it's all gone. But I do recall musings on how everything is different now. Better and very different.
For instance, I have a different brain. Not like someone else's brain. It's my brain, but it just no longer works the same. The stuff that makes me ME is still there, but my thinking is now Aidric-centric. I can no longer have a long, quiet conversation with someone. Mostly because the person with whom I am talking is also afflicted with the same brain change. This new brain causes me to forget just about everything. Like things about which I wanted to write.

One thought I do recall is this: If every Mom out there loves their babies with the same intensity that I love Aidric, how can there be so much bad stuff in the world? I feel that my love alone could wipe all the hatred out of the Middle East. Pre-Aidric, I would have never thought it possible to have this intensity of emotion. Falling in love with Mark is close but so very different too.

I still think about the miracle of it all. How this person formed from an almost nothingness inside of my body. I will know him as a infinitely small speck of potentiality, a squirmy newborn, a crawling squealing blur, and hopefully as a precocious toddler, an awkward and loving adolescent, a happy grown up, and maybe even a precocious old man.

It took ten months for it to happen, but I finally feel totally at peace with leaving Aidric with Mark so I can go shopping or get a pedicure. A good combination of lessened separation anxiety, less nursing requirement, and less guilt from me. I have been to two yoga classes. When I am practicing yoga there is no room in my head for anything else, and when it's over I realize that I thought of nobody else but me. That's a good thing sometimes.

Dear Aidric,

You are now 10 1/2 months old. You are now clapping! It's the cutest thing. Almost as cute as when you hold your foot up with your hand when you sit, or when you grab your feet and clap them during your diaper change, or when you sit on the floor and scoot around 360 degrees. You wave to people, but usually way after you first meet them and they are not looking. You are very interested in other people, craning your head around to see them, or just staring and staring. Then you look away coyly when they talk to you. You little charmer.
You are fascinated with wheels, buttons, and all things electrical(outlets, cords, vacuum, remotes, phones, DVD player, etc.) Trying to keep you alive and uninjured takes up most of the day. You seem fearless and try to even climb things that are not climbable at all. You shock and awe everyone on the playground and at Gymboree with your climbing abilities.

You are doing some amazing things now. Instead of just knocking down the tower of blocks, you gently nudge them, crawl around it to look at it from different angles, pick the top block off, and then smash it. You have started to give me things- handing me some of your food or offering me the chance to chew on your toy(um, thanks). But, oh, I just melt. I see the beginnings of your using objects - like when you hold your block and put it up against your music table, or when you try to put something back into it's place. Seeing this kind of learning growth thrills me so.

You are cruising, walking your car back and forth, and even standing on your own for many seconds until you slowly sit down. Watching you little bow legs and your little diaper-tooshie walking away is the cutest thing in the world.

You are babbling and squealing away from the moment you wake up to the moment you finally pass out. The only exception being when you are concentrating on something or managed to grab the remote and the thrill of this forbidden object in your hands renders you speechless. You hold it with both hands in front of your face in disbelief, and then look to Daddy or me to see our reaction. We say, "No-no!", and then you laugh at us.

I have improved your diet to include more veggies. You like peas the most. I can put down a mix of green beans, carrots, and peas to find that you cleverly pick out only the peas. If you are feeling frisky, the beans and carrots go overboard.

You now enjoy the stroller, which makes me happy too because I can see a jogging stroller in our future. We take you for a walk almost every day in the stroller, but you still love to take an early morning walk with me in your carrier. We see squirrels, dogs, bikers, cats, flowers, trees, and sometimes other babies. We bounce and sing and touch flower petals. Towards the end of the walk, you are getting sleepy and you rest your head on my shoulder and look up at me. Your eyelids get heavy and your little body gets soft and still. I can't fully describe how this sweet moment just fills me up with bliss.

We had a visit from your Grandma Marion and your Aunt Holly. It was a busy, fun week, and I think the highlight was going to the Huntington. Outrageously beautiful place. You saw some wonderful paintings (including one of my favorites), a waterfall, roses, and a Japanese garden. You especially loved the art museum. You babbled so loudly the whole time.

This past month Dad-Dad has been home from work. He goes back to work on Monday. I wonder how you will react. This past month has been great for you two and a great gift for me. I think I would be very happy as a Kalahari Bushmen where we could all forage and work together in our huts. At least we would all be together.

I wonder if all this intensity ever fades. Will I always get this screaming adrenaline rush when you first cry out for me? Will you always move me to hug you so tightly, cover you with kisses, and repeat 'I love you' every 10 minutes? Will you always be the first thought in my head and the last? Will my heart break every time you fall, when another kid is mean to you, or when you wave so sweetly, but the person doesn't even see you?
I know I will always feel so proud of all your accomplishments and cheer you on no matter what. Watching you walk away while you push your car, I know you have that excited look on your face. I clap and cheer even though I know it means one more small step towards your independence. But I will always be right behind you to grab you, kiss you and repeat 'I love you' over and over.