That I, too, will have to wear a swimsuit for the aquababies class.
Egad! What have I done!
Call me FloJo April 28, 2008
Because I am a joiner. I just signed Darwin up for “aquababies.” I have no idea what aquababies is, but some lady at the park on Friday said that registration begins at 5am Monday, and it’s hard to get into, so of course I had to try. I don’t even like swimming myself, or going to the pool, or the beach, so I don’t really know why I signed up to get Drwin involved, but I just thought that if everyone liked it so much, maybe I would, too. And who knows, maybe I will. But right now I feel quite silly. And I have so many questions — what kind of diaper does a baby wear when said baby goes swimming? Is chlorine bad for a tender baby’s skin? How much videotape footage do we need of Darwin swimming? Why in the world did I sign up for this class?
And, speaking of joining – who is this Jodi Picoult, and should I be reading her books? I have seen about 7 people in the last 3 days on the el with books by her. Am I missing something? They do not look like good books at all, judging the book by its cover, and I must admit I get a guilty twinge of superiority when I pull out my William Faulkner. But maybe there’s something to these airbrushed, misty covers and gold-leaf lettering.
I think I will only get peer-pressured into one thing this week, however, and stick with William Faulkner. I can read it at the pool while Darwin swims laps.
Catching up April 20, 2008
So much has happened since we last talked! A silent auction for Shakespeare’s birthday, a job offer for Joe and then the withdrawal of said offer, a case of thrush, a day at work when I fubared everything I touched, lots of rolling over, Darwin’s first concert (thanks, Michelle!) which he snuck into underage, and three (count ‘em three!) baby teeth.
Tomorrow we go to the doctor for the 6 month check up, and find out whether Darwin has to wear a helmet for the flat spot on his head. It’s still pretty flat, but getting better. We’ll see what she says. It’s amazing how much guilt is involved already, and what a terrible parent I’ll feel like if he has to wear one. First the harness, then this! Poor kid. All his baby pictures will have some sort of weird apparatus. Probably when he’s 13 he’ll have to wear one of those crazy mouth gear things, too, or something.
Anyway, keep your fingers crossed. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Don’t April 9, 2008
Dear Darwin,
Here is a list, by no means comprehensive, of things you shouldn’t do.
Don’t:
Make someone hold the elevator and then just go up to the second floor. Use the $#@! stairs.
Take up two seats on the el — and especially don’t get indignant if someone asks you to move your things to sit down.
Pretend to be a feminist just to get laid.
Actually, don’t pretend to be anything just to get laid.
Say mean things about someone to make yourself feel/look better.
Take yourself too seriously.
Use quotes incorrectly on signage. A huge “sale” actually implies that it’s not a sale at all.
Root for the American League, the SEC or the Packers.
Use false modesty to get someone to pay you a compliment.
Ignore the bad things in the world just because they’re bad. Work to make them better.
Ignore the good things in the world and think that things are hopeless.
Forget your mother’s birthday.
Say something mean and then smile and say “just kidding.” There is sarcasm, and there is being mean with a smile, and the two are very different.
Judge people or food based on appearance alone.
Look up to or down on anyone because of their job.
Forget how much you are loved.
Thought you should know April 6, 2008
Joe is steaming my pants right now. He wanted me to let you know, so I write something good about him. Just wanted to give you the update.
And by “steaming my pants,” I do not mean that as a euphemism. He’s literally using a steamer to get the wrinkles out of my pants.
The big picture April 4, 2008
Having a baby has made me a much meaner person in a lot of ways, since I’m sleepier, which always makes me grumpier, and I also feel more entitled to leave work in the middle of a project and make someone else do it, or shove my way onto the el in front of little old ladies in order to get home on time. “It’s for the baby,” I tell myself.
But, being a mom also makes me nicer. When I see someone that looks different in some way, and start to judge them, thinking “Weirdo. Who would wear that shirt? Who would do their hair like that? Who would dress that way?” I immediately cut myself off, thinking “Someday, Darwin might.” And I would sure hate for some sleep-deprived grumpy lady to think mean things about him.
I read a book by the Dalai Lama, where he said that believing in reincarnation helps people find compassion, because if you believe in reincarnation, then you have to believe that every living creature was once your mother at some point. If you look at the world that way, you’re a much nicer person. Having a baby does that for me on a smaller scale. It helps me remember that everyone is someone’s child. Everyone I’m judging probably has someone who never wants that person to be hurt, who never wants them to feel any pain, who never wants them to have mean things thought about them by some petty lady on the el just because she’s tired.
Slowly but surely, we become more enlightened. Now, if I could just find compassion for people who make me hold the elevator to only go one floor……
