Friday, July 31, 2009
I am telling you this NOT because you need to know about my lingerie choices. But because it is a pretty, feminine, non beige, NON NURSING BRA! Yes, as of 12:14am Tuesday morning, my baby girl is weaned! Ironically after a YEAR of nursing I finally had to drag out my old pump today to rid myself of some painful LUMPS. Sorry about that. Anyhoo.
This whole weaning process leaves me both relieved and BEREFT at the same time. It's been the same with all of my monsters: around 10 months I get totally sick of nursing. ESPECIALLY at 1am, 4:39am and 5:10 am. So the babe and I fight about it for a month or two, and just when I think I'm going to be nursing the parasite for another 9 years, voila! Bottles are just fine, and I get my boobies back.
So...now I enter this phase that has been a bit DANGEROUS for me historically: I am not pregnant. I am not nursing. And BANG! A big BOMB of mommy LUST goes off in my body and all of a sudden...I.WANT.ANOTHER.BABY.
BUT! No! Not this time. I have FOUR healthy children. I am freaking 35, "advanced maternal age!" I would probably have septuplets with chromosomal abnormalities! I can't IMAGINE being pregnant again, even though my pregnancies are relatively easy. It's still NINE MONTHS of exhaustion, flab, GRUESOME varicose veins, and SOBRIETY.
And there is PLENTY going on here. Right here, right now, I have more than a lifetime's worth of love, bickering, shrieking and laundry. Even now, when the screaming and chaos reach their peak, people - my own parents included - look at me with a mix of pity, disgust, horror and relief that THEY ARE NOT ME.
So why do I even flirt with the notion of a FIFTH? I DON'T KNOW! I am already spread too thinly amongst the lot of them. Do I have some kind of psychosis here? Something to prove? Am I greedy? WHAT THE FREAK IS WRONG WITH ME?
I don't know. All I know is this: when Keane picks up an old bird watching book at his grandparents' and decides he's going to add ornithologist to the many interests his voracious little mind devours; when taciturn Rory insists on getting his sister out of her crib whenever she wakes up, because he loves to "help" her; when Will very precisely articulates for thirty minutes that "he does not LIKE swimming lessons, Mama," and then stoically and resignedly marches up to his swimming teacher; or when Colette channels her inner Material Girl and stops, poses, points and "CCCCoooooooooooooooos" to whomever is currently applauding her; it is at these times when their little personalities, original and genuine and wonderful, make me feel quite lucky to witness all these lives unfolding. And when, for 83 seconds every seven months, they are all playing together, happily, the sun glinting off the reds and blonds in their hair, I am struck dumb with the beauty of it all. That this is all there is. So of COURSE I could imagine another one.
And then Rory tries to bite Keane, Keane screeches like a demented female hyena, Will pees on the rug and Colette shrieks JUST BECAUSE....I wake up from my reverie and place my mouth firmly beneath the Franzia spigot.
YES! I STILL DON'T HAVE A SWIMSUIT! This Ralph Lauren one was on sale, and obviously the color is a bit bonkers (every normal black suit has long since been purchased), but I'm desperate.
So, why, do you ask, do I keep bothering you with my failed online swimsuit shopping sagas? Why don't I just buck up and go to Dillard's, or Kohl's, or even Tarzhay and just TRY SOME SUITS ON under the fluorescent lights with other normal women?
Because I like to pretend I'm a PRINCESS. When I'm really a WEENIE who can't face those dressing rooms. So there.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Dare to dream, right?
Back to my other LOOT: the boys' shoes were of course WONDERFUL (Nordstrom was originally a SHOE store, after all!) - don't these make you want a little boy to chase?
I also got another FAILURE of a swimsuit (perhaps I will find the perfect suit by Thanksgiving), and a decent enough gift with purchase from Estee Lauder. My BOOTS, however, are still to come...the DRAMA! The SUSPENSE! (Isn't that half the fun of shopping?)
Friday, July 24, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Alas, we did not spend the day at a Mommy and Me Day Spa, getting facials. Colette spent her first birthday at the Boeing Flight Museum. Such is the peril of having older brothers; but I don't believe she minded too much.
Happy Birthday, Coletti Di Spoletti.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
In a cruel twist of fate, I am leaving TWO DAYS before the sale begins (don't exhale yet, PVT!). However, if you are "in the know," you can preorder items from the sale catalog and pick them up as early as the 14th.
Monday, July 6, 2009
I apologize for the light posting lately, my friends! I have been terribly busy immersing my offspring into the perks and vagaries of the Northwest: hikes in the woods; slug spotting; thrice-daily Starbucks runs; winery picnicking (my eldest was a bit too fond of raspberry wine); Space Needle excursions; monitoring wild blackberry ripeness. PVT brought the big boys to a Seattle Sounders game at Qwest Field, too - in short, we are doing many things we cannot do in sultry Tulsa, Oklahoma. As lovely as it is to be here, though, and as homesick as I am for all of these things, and my beloved NORDSTROM, I find I am appreciating from afar those unique things we have in Tulsa: laughably light traffic; preternaturally polite people; vast houses for $29.99. See, PVT? I CAN say nice things about Tulsa!