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Just Jen
Careful with the pretty things

Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Work is crazy nuts right now and will remain so until April 8. I'm even having assistance with daycare pick-up this week because I really need to stay late at work, which totally sucks because I have less time with my boy in the evening.


AND, I leave next Tuesday for Vegas. I'll be away from him for three nights, and I don't know how I'll handle it. I mean, I know I'll be busy and all, and there will be some fun involved, but I'm just going to worry and really miss him. And really worry.


To top it all off, between this crazy week and the flight out we'll have GUESTS over the weekend - as if I won't be stressed enough. So I'll have no break, and the guests are my in-laws. (This is different than my *favorite* aunt visiting because, well, I can just be me and wear my jammies in front of her and what not, and I don't feel like I have to entertain her, and well - and this is the BIGGEST part - she doesn't get on my nerves.)


Oh, and I tried to do our taxes last night and I think we actually owe money. A lot.


I'm not having such a great Tuesday; someone stole my optimism. I feel sorry for the poor intern candidate I'm about to interview this afternoon.


Friday, March 24, 2006
It's Friday, and I have a date with my husband to see Lucinda Williams play at the Lakewood Theater tonight. The baby's staying overnight with my Dad, and while this will probably make me terribly anxious after the show, right now I'm terribly excited.


I've been listening to Prince's Kiss for the past hour. Seriously, I know it's super old and whatnot, but try listening, and you can't help but get all happy and shit.


Thursday, March 23, 2006
Some days good stuff comes; I wish it came everyday.


Some days I just want to crawl under the covers and peek out only to watch that stupid GNR video I've referenced before that takes me back to 1992, when I was certain that I could fix all those angsty boys I dated, when I was certain I'd eventually become engaged to Shannon Hoon after college graduation. But alas, he became a father and then OD'd in the middle of my studies. I had planned to save him, but I guess I was too busy with editing courses and summer rush. Plus, he never returned my calls.


I moved on from angsty boys for a brief period. I latched on to those who believed themselves normal, quite a perky bunch, thinking their perceived normalcy might rub off on me. Eventually, I went back to finding those most like myself, thinking that if I could fix them, all that was broken inside of me might simultaneously be repaired.


If you knew me in real life, you'd know that as I roll the toothpaste tube from the bottom up, I actually use a bobby pin to secure it in place; that I make plans for outings that seem like fun but then stress once the date arrives because it throws off my routine.


Keeping order doesn't prevent chaos, and worrying in advance won't lessen the blow of a tragedy that may or may never happen. And no one can ever fix another person.


Simple lessons, right?


Monday, March 20, 2006
Two days out and 200+ messages to go through can make a girl's brain sore. I'm taking a rest, on your behalf. That's a lie.


I was digging through an old box -- a box from my previous office that I hauled up north with me and stuck in a cabinet to sit for the past two years -- looking for pictures, the few I saved that weren't incriminating. I found those few.


The negatives are gone, most of the photos are gone, and I guess I chunked the disk, too. The pictures weren't saved to the computer; the sent emails with photo attachments are also gone. I did some good work. And I'm not sure why I'm even looking for them now. Really, it has more to do with me than with anything ... sometimes I look back with a better understanding of my actions, behavior, etc., but sometimes the answers don't come as easily and I have to search more intently.


I made a choice and I've been sort of wondering, imagining, fantasizing, what-have-you, what might have happened if I had made a different one. One shouldn't indulge in mind games of this sort. But the thing is, I have this strange sense that I'd be in the exact same place regardless, especially after some recent correspondence and information I've received. Things happen as they're supposed to, and I'm supposed to be right here.


His will, not mine, be done.


And I also wonder how two people, not having ever met one another, have ended up in such similar places right now. It makes me love them both for very different reasons. And it reinforces that I am in this place because I'm supposed to be here.


Digging through those photographs in the box, I realized that I have very few recent pictures of myself. When cameras are around now days, they're clicking away, aimed at my boy (I certainly don't blame the photographers; the boy's cuter than I am). But as a result, I don't have any recent pictures. I should have some taken, see if I recognize myself.


Looking through that box today, I found a lot of me.


Paul Simon sings, "A good day ain't got no rain. A bad day is when I lay in bed and think of things that might have been."


But nostalgia isn't all bad. Some things just make you wonder ... and learn.


Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Bring Your Green Hat



Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Haircuts, pony rides, a nasty fall (not associated with the pony ride) and a diagnosis that the nose is not broken. Plus, St. Patrick's preparation, all while receiving a special project with an aggressive timeline made more aggressive by my being out two days this week because my *favorite* aunt is coming to visit and meeting my boy for the very first time. He has the haircut, you know, for the first impression, and the nasty scrape across the bridge of his nose.

I have much to tell but no time to tell it. No time, even, for complete sentences. But commas, commas I can give you.


Tuesday, March 07, 2006
I think the point of many of my posts lately, when I look at them in hindsight, is how very much life changes. Obviously, I'm not just talking about my own life, but man, I can't say that enough ... how much my life has changed. I knew it would; I realized that as soon as I saw the two pink lines on the pregnancy test, and I'm not sure, because maybe I just don't remember and maybe I'm too lazy to go digging through archives, but I don't think I honestly ever said how scared I was when that realization hit me. I was terrified. I'm not sure I admitted that to very many people.


I worried what people would think of my getting pregnant before our wedding, of the focus no longer being on the wedding -- on ME. But even more frightening was not knowing if I could do this parent thing -- if I could give up the things I needed to give up for my child, if I could cold-turkey quit drinking -- go from drinking entirely too much and making an ass of myself on a regular basis to completely not drinking at all. I knew things would have to change eventually but with the appearance of two pink lines, eventually became immediately -- NOW without warning. And I was scared. I was scared that maybe I wouldn't be able to quit. I also quit taking all anti-depressant medication immediately as well. I had to give up everything I used to calm my anxiety while taking on something that in itself can be quite anxiety-producing. Did I mention I was scared? How, I wondered, would I ever
survive nine months?


Food helped, and I'm not talking about fruits and vegetables and lots of water. I'm talking about cakes and candy and ice cream all summer long. I gained 45 pounds. Then I was scared I would never fit back into my old jeans, that I'd never buy size zero pants at Express again! (I'm an only child and a pretty selfish person, but I've been working on that. Honestly, I think most people have a bit of selfishness about them, so I'm not going to condemn myself for being human.)


I lived through the pregnancy, and as soon as I saw my son's perfect, tiny face for the very first time, I experienced another immediate change. The experience of giving birth and holding your child in your arms for the first time changes your thinking faster than even the two pink lines, and I knew I'd do anything in the world for my baby. I would give up anything necessary to ensure his happiness. I think it's some sort of mother's instinct that kicks in immediately.


I'm not saying I'm now this perfect human (which is an oxymoron in itself) or a perfect mother. I still like to buy myself nice things now and again; I do enjoy a long shower without a 16 month old banging on the bathroom door for me to come out; I like to have a break and get a pedicure on a weekend. I like book club and indulging in a glass of wine with the girls. And I usually feel guilty about these things, but I'm working on that, too.


Looking back at how terrified I was two years ago, I realize how much progress I've made. And I realize that I'm not a perfect mother, but I truly am a damn good one ... in size zero Express pants.


Monday, March 06, 2006





In case anyone cares what I think about this year's Academy Awards, I'd say I pretty much agree with this article, which sums up the show rather nicely.


I was most pleased with Reese Witherspoon winning for Walk The Line and hey, at least her hubby Ryan got to celebrate Crash's recognition. BUT -- Crash for Best Picture of the Year??? I thought Brokeback Mountain was more deserving.


My biggest disappointment was that Joaquin Phoenix did not win Best Actor; his performance was amazing. And, well, everyone knows of my favor toward the Phoenix family.


Friday, March 03, 2006
Sometimes the best thing I can do with my lunch hour is attend a meeting, which is what I did today. The meeting itself was nothing tremendously special, but what happened afterward was.


An older Italian woman in the group, who looked as if getting to the meeting might have been difficult, asked if I could give her a ride to her restaurant up the street. She was physically challenged and used a walker; I'm uncertain if she could see out of her right eye.


I was in a hurry, but I told her I'd be glad to give her a ride. Getting her into the SUV was a bit difficult, but we managed, and her cart and walker fit just fine in the back seat. The short conversation during the drive meant so much to me. While she offered to buy me lunch at the restaurant, I declined and hurried back to the office -- but not before promising to come back to the restaurant to see her again sometime.


I've heard the theory that good deeds are meaningless if you boast about them. However it wasn't I, but she, who did the good deed.


Thursday, March 02, 2006
I am the mother of a biter.

If I was the mother of a child on the receiving end of the biting, I would be very angry. I might even dislike Ryder for biting, which would be difficult since he's so darn cute. But he does have sixteen very dangerous teeth. The problem is that he has four more coming in -- the dreaded two-year molars (already!). He's drooling; he's biting; and, oh yeah, he has his mother's temper. This is not a good combination.


Every day (give or take a day) for the past several weeks, Ryder has attempted to bite another child at school. It disturbs me most when he bites for no reason, and it pleases me to hear when an attempt was successfully intercepted by a teacher. They're working with him, and I'm hoping he doesn't get expelled from his very first academic institution before he learns this lesson: WE DO NOT BITE.


When I picked him up yesterday, I learned of the grip he managed to get on little J's arm that afternoon. The thing is though, the teacher said this kid was messing with Ryder and wouldn't leave him alone. Is it wrong that once we got in the car, I told him that kid probably had it coming? Perhaps I should clarify the lesson: WE DO NOT BITE UNLESS SOMEONE REALLY DESERVES IT.


Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Damn, I forgot how good this album is. I need to go through my CDs and pull those great ones I haven't listened to in way too long.


If you click on the link above, you can hear samples of songs on the album. My personal faves are:


No. 3 All the Right Reasons
And I know I've quoted this one before, but it's been a while. And hell, I'm consistent.

"Like a tired bird flying high across the ocean
I was outside looking in
You made me live again
From the mountains to the prairies, little babies
Figures fill their heads
Visions bathed in red"

No. 4 Save it For a Rainy Day
"Don't look so sad, Marina
There's another part to play"

No. 13 Will I See You in Heaven?
"Well, faith is the answer
Can you spare some to help guide me through"