One Dozen Long-Stemmed Years

On our very first Valentine's Day together, I sat across the table from a tall dark-haired boy and looked into his eyes and decided that he was the one. It was probably our fifth or sixth date, and I refuse to give my 19-year-old self any credit for this decision -- she was an idiot who didn't know anything, but sure as hell thought she did. I suppose I could try to see it as some kind of fate or higher power leading my idiot self in the right direction, or maybe deep down in my rebellious, flightly little soul was a flicker of wisdom beyond my years, but mostly: I was an idiot who got incredibly damned lucky. On another Valentine's Day together, we went up to visit his brother in Boston. We sat across the table from each other at an Indian restaurant he'd chosen and looked into each other's eyes in a panic because what the hell was this shit? Couldn't we go get some pizza instead? Then we each took a few bites and looked at each other again and realized we loved this and wordlessly pledged to each other that we would spend the rest... Read more →

Drama, Thy Name is Toddler

Or Toddler, Thy Name is Drama. I don't really know. The point is: I am five minutes away from FedExing my child to China. Noah has been, no lie and no exaggeration, throwing one solid tantrum since early yesterday, with only the occasional breathing break. THINGS THAT HAVE MADE NOAH FALL TO THE FLOOR AND WEEP BIG FAT TEARS INCONSOLABLY IN THE PAST 24 HOURS: 1) Asking for more Cheerios, being reminded of the gigantic pile of Cheerios directly in front of him. 2) Asking for more milk, being reminded of the very full cup of milk directly in front of him. 3) Climbing out the back of a chair and getting stuck because he refuses to take the sippy cup out of his mouth. 4) The 30 seconds it takes to microwave his dinner. 5) Asking for a cookie, getting said cookie, discovering that he actually really wanted some cake. 6) Blue's Clues, because Steve is wasting precious seconds looking for a clue that is RIGHT FUCKING THERE IN FRONT OF HIM ZOMG. 7) His new Thomas the Tank Engine jammies, because they need to be ON HIS BODY instead of carried around like a blankie. 8) Deliberately hitting... Read more →

Oh. Yeah. That. No.

I'll spare you the anti-climatic peestick photo, though rest assured I have quite the collection of no, not even, nada and girl, please. What I don't have, despite it being well into that time of the month, is a period. That would actually be kind of nice, just to have that last little glimmer of dumb hope definitively snuffed out, in a way that all these negative pregnancy tests seem to be unable to do. Bleh. This blows. Read more →

Not McLovinit

I am typing this in bed, but not the NICE kind of bed-typing (sitting up against multiple fluffy pillows in a marabou-trimmed dressing gown while everyone around you murmurs admiring words re: the strength of your will for blogging while consumptive). I'm typing with one hand while my laptop is precariously perched on one slightly raised knee; my other arm is wrapped around a snoring, sweaty toddler with whom I am currently sharing a nasty cold. His head is leaking fluids of various kinds onto my chest. There isn't a stitch of marabou to be found. OK, that paragraph took waaaay to long to type (must I really use words like "precariously?"), so I'm going to attempt a Sleeping Toddler Slide-Off Triple Axel. Please hold. *** Success! He's now dripping snot all over Jason's pillow. Outstanding. *** Anyway. I've been wanting to post a thank you and acknowledgment for all the kind thoughts and crossed fingers you guys left on this post, but since so many of you were all, "Oh, but your sense of humor will obviously GET YOU THROUGH THIS," I kept trying to hide the extent of my true depressive funkitude about THAT WHOLE THING. The Internet... Read more →

So Hey, How's THAT WHOLE THING Going?

Or, The ClearBlue Easy Fertility Monitor and Me Or, I Am Pretty Sure I Stole This From Julie, Oh Look, Yes, I Totally Did CYCLE DAY ONE, OPTIMISM PREVAILS Amy: M button! M is for menstruation, kids. ClearBlue Easy Fertility Monitor: Oh my God, you mean you actually read the instruction manual this month? Amy: Yes! I did! I actually know what I'm doing this time, so let's go ahead and say that the only thing standing in my way of pregnancy was that I did not fully understand modern peestick technology. ClearBlue Easy Fertility Monitor: Bring it, bitch. CYCLE DAY FIVE, DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO UNWRAP THOSE DAMN STICKS FIRST THING IN THE MORNING WHEN YOU REALLY HAVE TO PEE? ClearBlue Easy Fertility Monitor: Pee on a stick. Amy: You have a LOT to learn about me and my long-ass cycles, don't you? CYCLE DAY NINE ClearBlue Easy Fertility Monitor: Pee on a stick. Amy: This box of sticks was supposed to last three cycles, you know. CYCLE DAY 13, WHEEEE ClearBlue Easy Fertility Monitor: Pee on a stick. Amy: Ok, so if my calculations are correct, we may possibly be getting somewhere close to...... Read more →

If you thought new windows were boring, just wait until you hear about my new dishwasher

Over the weekend we got a letter from GE kindly informing us that our dishwasher could potentially and possibly and also very bloody damn well likely set our house on fire. And then they offered us $300 towards a new one, presumably without the HOUSE GO KABLOOMIE feature. Unlike when Fisher Price informed us that we were the proud owners of several toxic tub toys (assholes, by the way. and Mattel too. can't we parents buy cheap plastic crap in the likeness of brain-rotting TV characters with confidence?), we were actually happy to hear about this recall, since we thought the dishwasher was a piece of shit to begin with and planned to replace it anyway. So we bought a shiny new dishwasher this weekend, and I am currently twiddling my thumbs and waiting for it to be delivered and installed today. (Aren't you impressed at how good my typing still is?) Yes, this is truly my only news to report. Yes, this is truly what my life has become. If you read this post (go on, I'll wait, I'm thisclose to getting a traffic bonus for the month over there and I also need some damn drapes), you'll know... Read more →

Prognosis Negative

People. I'm not pregnant. Please don't take this the wrong way, but oh, my god, please. Please stop leaving comments -- even jokingly -- on entries telling me I'm pregnant because I'm cranky or emotional or you know, have the stomach flu. I know when to pee on a stick and I know when there is no point to peeing on a stick because I just had my period six damn days ago and when you guys leave comments saying OMG YOU'RE PREGNANT I feel the need to disclose the fact that I just had my period six damn days ago. And thus I further alienate my three male readers and how the hell am I expected to land that lucrative Girls Gone Wild ad campaign with no male readers a lot of goddamned period talk? I know none of you mean any harm with those comments, but they make me sad. (It's not you, it's me, if I may continue piling on the Seinfeld references.) I guess I'm not so very at peace with our little plan after all, since hey! We came up with that plan a WHOLE MONTH ago and DAMMIT, I am not pregnant yet! Fuck... Read more →

More Crap About Number Two

(It's a pun!) Jason and I had a long talk this weekend about this. (That's a lot of this for one small sentence.) We've done a lot of talking about this, but since there's no easy answer we tend to just change the subject after a couple minutes and move on to simpler topics. (Like, shall we open more wine? Why, yes, please!) (Just call us the Wine Vikings.) This time I cut through all the crazy what-ifs and hypotheticals and layers (specialty of the house! onion parfait!) and just asked Jason what his gut was telling him. We put a lot of trust in Jason's gut around here, as it has never once led us wrong. Unlike my gut, which is impulsive and reactionary and usually craving burritos. Jason took a moment to listen to his gut. He cocked his head and everything. "I think we should wait." "Ohgoodmetoo." I breathed a sigh of relief. And my ambivalence was suddenly obvious, and I confessed to feeling supremely overwhelmed by the thought of dealing with morning sickness and pregnancy and a newborn and breastfeeding and two kids in diapers in the immediate future, and choosing it ON PURPOSE. It turns... Read more →

Number Two

This morning Noah and I played our game of Gimme Kisses. I tell him to gimme kisses, please. He shakes his head no, and then I swoop in for a kiss anyway, while making a big, exaggerated mmmmmmmmmmmmmMWA sound. Then he giggles. This morning I stopped playing after a few kisses. He started humming. "Mmmmmm." He reached up and put his hands on my cheeks and leaned in. "MWA!" he shrieked, covering my face with kisses. Then we both giggled. Yeah. I gotta get me another one of these. *** Two things I said I'd never do again: 1) Have another child. 2) Take Clomid. They went together pretty nicely, I thought. But like a lot things I swore I'd never do (suburbs! yard! skinny jeans! hotdogs for lunch!), I changed my mind about Number One. I want another baby. WE want another baby. The five of you who read the ClubMom blog know that Jason and I have been trying for awhile now. I don't know how long, exactly. Maybe since Noah's first birthday? Maybe even before that? I seem to remember using the BlogHer swag bag condom at some point, but honestly, we've never really used birth control... Read more →