Monday, November 28, 2011

Ho (cough cough) Ho

As I type this I am hearing a rerun of 30 Rock in the background where Tracy Jordan sings his "imagine Christmas wishes shooting out of your eyes" song. I am still laughing a little.

We are a sick house. The baby, somehow, manages to escape illness while Daddy and I pass it back and forth, I guess. My immune system seems to be the better of the two, while he coughs, sneezes and chokes down phlegm and I just feel tired and have a sore throat, but the general feeling is BLAH. I wish I were on a beach.

I have been eating a little strangely, meaning that I haven't been thinking about it enough, since T-Day. I didn't weigh in this morning, and I am hoping tomorrow is not too horrifying, but I just don't want to see anymore doctors. I hate doctors. Can I skip this next appointment? Can I? We owe so much money to doctors. BLECH.

Speaking of money, I calculated out that if we continue paying $350 a month to hubby's student loan it will take 468 months to pay it off. Which means that someday we have to earn more money. Ain't no better conclusion. And that I will not be allowing Baby S to ever take out that much in student loans. Oy. The thought practically keeps me up at night.

I want to be on stage SO MUCH RIGHT NOW. It's killing me. Who will have me? I'll do anything!! Well, not anything, but I think at this point I'd do OUTREACH for schools, and that is pretty much tantamount to artistic torture. I need a new opportunity....must. go. looking. It was this time last year I auditioned for Sweeney. So I guess it's something about the horrifying cold coming on that makes me need to sing my lungs off. Or act. Or hopefully both.

I am tired of thinking about weight loss. I want to give myself credit for being 50 pounds lighter than when I gave birth. I also want to beat myself up for not being 60.

We trimmed trees today, and Baby S (who maybe I should start calling Little Girl S) hung ornaments on her own 3.5 foot tree. It was so cute and so annoying. She could not stop hanging them all on the same branches!!! Ugh. It feels so confusing to have a child who develops quickly and is bright but is still a child! She has become insanely affectionate, offering kisses and hugs to people who don't even want them. She is talkative, but repeats every bad thing I say, which is a lot of pressure!

We looked at baby dolls together at the store last week, and she kept saying, "i want this one" and then would change "i want this one" and then within seconds came again. I heard myself saying, "oooh, I like this one quite a bit." And she instantly repeated, "mine quite a bit" "want quite a bit" It is funny to hear her repeat that kind of thing.

Amazing to think 2 years ago she was a drooling little constant nurser. I remember still at the beginning how it took a little time for her to look me in the eye, to relate to me, and I felt like a cow, being used for my milk. And then how one day it seemed she started equating the whole thing with love, and we were partners.

And now she walks through stores with me going, "oooh, amazing!" "O my gosh, amazing"!

Monday, November 21, 2011

Monday Morning


I had a rather good Sunday this week. It tends to be the hardest day for me. I teach on Saturdays, usually just a few lessons, and then Sunday is the first full "free" day. Which sounds great, except I don't have any childcare from Friday-Sunday, and hubby is only home until noon on Saturday and Sunday, and the rest is just me and the baby, trying to figure out what to do that works around her. Sometimes the days are unbearable, with no one to take over when she gets cranky or really "two year old-y" or whatever else she can get.

But yesterday was day 2 of amoxicillin for strep throat. I was finally feeling better and able to swallow. Baby S was funny, cute and not too difficult. It is amazing to think what she can do now. She is starting to correct "baby" words with the real words for things (she has always said "cow cheese" as her favorite snack, and now she says the actual "cottage cheese", only she says it quite slowly, "Coootttage cheese", it's kind of amazing). She does a mean summersault, and she can stack blocks, do ABC games, paint with me, use clay (to make lumps, but it's still fun). We went shopping yesterday and she put all the items in the cart for me. As long as I keep her involved, and make her role important, she stays happy and honestly, helpful.

So today I feel less of the need to force hubby into "you must make up for leaving me alone for 2 days" although we're having a "cleaning day" to prepare for the in-laws (and the new couch!) I can actually put my foot through the lining of the current couch. It's literally falling apart at the seams. And my sore throat is 80 per cent gone, and I just weighed myself and I'm down 10 pounds since July. That's 10 pounds in 4.5 months.....which really would only mean about 25 pounds a year....not enough to get pregnant next summer. But enough to make me feel like my work is paying off. All those meals I replaced with soup this week worked! *sigh*

I am really missing being in a show. I want to sing, sing, sing. So I guess it's about 4 months. The time I can go without singing in something before I get sad. It's starting to sink in, I think, that this is the important thing, that I keep singing, rather than that I somehow find a way to call myself a "success" in singing. Maybe I could just enjoy the art of it, rather than the business. I think? We'll see how long this healthy thinking stays around. We singers have a way of squashing it :)

Speaking of squash...I don't like feasts. I like Thanksgiving because I like meal fellowships. I like sitting across from people and just enjoying them. I like giving thanks to God, and I've got a lot to be thankful for. But the food. Ugh. I kind of miss NYC for that...untraditional Thanksgivings with single people. So hard to marry these two sides of me. THere is the side that loves to be a mom and a homeowner, a part of a family, with a few dogs and a garden. But I also long to be an urbanlady sometimes....a single person who eats foreign foods, bucks tradition and witnesses some crazy art every once in a while. I'm a little lost in between sometimes.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Running and Gazing

Why have I not blogged in a month? I guess so much has happened, I have been busy, and hubby has been using my computer at night? Those are my guesses.

This month I took 3 teenage girls to Chicago to watch young opera singers compete in the MET finals. I kept trying to decide how specifically I would blog about that experience--it was quite a bit of humor. But I expected to feel--left out? I expected to wish I were about to be told that I was on my way to NYC to start a career again, but I didn't. Instead, I felt kind of "in the know". I knew the weird sexual practices of one of the judges, I'd talked at length (in the past) to another. I was able to predict the judges 2nd picks for the singers (without even seeing what the singers were offering!) and I picked the winners (not who I would pick, but who I figured they would).

Mostly I just enjoyed the awe of 3 girls from Cedar Rapids driving through the city. I enjoyed their reactions to the singers. We went to an all-vegetarian restaurant for dinner (they'd NEVER been to one!) and had the girls request such naive things as "can we see a hooker?" (which by the way I did not indulge). I enjoyed showing them a world I once fell in love with. And out of love with. And back in love with...well, you get the picture.

I have noticed recently a large number of friends running marathons. It sounds wonderful--but I definitely think there is a trend since the fall of our economy. I think running is perfect for the time we're in--a world where you are competing not against some ridiculous glass ceiling, or a world that tells you there's no money for what you want to do, but essentially yourself. No one I know is training to beat a Kenyan. They are training to beat their own time. And they are deriving great joy from doing it. Weight loss is like that, I guess. At the end of the day, you're the one who put the fork down. At the end of the day, you're the one who got up at 5am to train, right?

I got a little down today thinking about some guy I met on the internet when I was in NYC. I once put up a serious ad on craigslist when I was lonely--this was probably only about 6 years ago. Amid the weird responses, I got one response from an aspiring opera singer. He was a nice guy, I guess, who wanted to complain about how hard and lonely it was to be a singer. And our lives, our careers, pretty much paralelled. He hadn't done more than I at that point. And I thought he was so whiny, actually--so negative, all he wanted to do say was "why aren't I getting what I want?" So we never even met.

He debuted at the MET this year. Isn't that amazing, that our paths could have been so outstandingly different? I am not sure yet, that I couldn't catch up with his path somewhere--but I am well aware of the long-shot.

I hoped the girls wouldn't ask me a question about this on the way to Chicago. How do I explain these bizarre trajectories? I guess, hearing their difficult stories, even at 16, I know that we don't really get to 16 without knowing there is some pretty major heartbreak and frustration. But at the same time, I sometimes wish I could stare at a few high-rises and get those same stars in my eyes again.