I’m a Total Nut-Job

Right after Berlyn was born I would wake up in the middle of the night (this was in addition to waking up 2-3 times to feed her), sit up in the bed, and wrestle in the covers, lifting them and shrieking that my baby is in the bed, and she’s suffocating! Pat would wake up, try to calm me down, and assure me that she was sleeping soundly in her crib, not in our bed. After a Xanex and a tall glass of red wine, I’d fall back asleep for about 48 minutes and wake up to feed Berlyn.

This is what Hell feels like. No one can prepare you for the rhythmic-head-pounding-into-the-wall that is parenting a newborn. But after a few months Berlyn was successfully sleeping through the night, unfortunately I was still waking up, smearing the covers around, trying to find my suffocating baby in the sheets. Once a week I had this nightmare, and every time it was the same: I would sit straight up, open my eyes, and panic while searching in the covers for my baby. Pat would have to calm me down each time, but each time it was harder for me to calm down, because I would convince myself that it was real, and when I found out it wasn’t, I would get mad at myself for letting my subconscious so violently take over. I kept this up weekly for about 6 months, then after that it was only happening about every month or so. It was so awful when I would wake up and thrash around looking for Berlyn in the bed, because my adrenaline would be running and my heart would pound, and falling back asleep would be nearly impossible.

But thankfully it’s been about 4 months since I’ve had that horrid nightmare. UNTIL–last night! Last night Zoey slept with us, which is something we let her do on special occasions, like after she gets a bath, or if we’ve been out of town and neglected her, or if she does a good potty outside, or if she goes longer than 30 minutes without barking, or if she looks extra cute and snugly–you know, special occasions. So it was a special occasion and she cuddled right in between myself and my husband and all was wonderful until 2:37 in the morning, when I woke up and thrashed around thinking she was suffocating in the covers, and called out “ZOEY! Zoey is in the bed!” I grabbed her expecting to find a limp and lifeless dog, and instead found a snoring and happily sleeping dog.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t understand why I think my dog and baby are going to die in my bed. I seem to be okay, and I sleep there every night. Maybe I ate some bad shell fish, or maybe I need a therapist to tell me that I’m a total nut-job.

Pride Parade

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It was the Pride Parade in San Francisco this weekend. We left on Friday, and just missed it. I was kinda sad, I think it would have been pretty fantastic to have seen it. Plus, it would’ve made a fun blog entry.

The San Francisco Treat!

Hey kids! I’m back from San Francisco, and it was more fun than a back handed slap from a tranny. I took a crap load of photos, so instead of me jawin’ about how great it was, I’ll just show you, mmm kay?

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Our good friends Ryan and Samantha showed us around downtown when we first got there. On top of their to do list: Blue Bottle Coffee. Yummy.

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Oh look we rode the trolley. Wait, no we didn’t, we’re liars! We just took a photo in one.

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I’m gorging on a cupcake. Serious business.

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Us at the Golden Gate Bridge.

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Lombard street. It’s super curly.

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Hey! It’s the Mattsons; our fellow travelers. They shared in our affinity for walking for miles and then sitting down to a plate full of sashimi.

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China Town

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I’m trying really hard to look nonchalant, but really, I’m peeing my pants because I love me some Marc Jacobs.

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tee-hee

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The conversations moments before this photograph was taken:

Me: you should take my picture

Pat: Okay

Me: No, wait. What should I do?

Pat: Whatever you want, I don’t care

Me: I’ll just jump around like a crazy person. Do you think people will stare?

Pat: Yes.

Click. Genius! Thanks Pat for the stellar photograph.
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Hey look it’s the Full House Park!!

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I got some new yellow shoes. They’re super amazing, and cozy too.

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We dined at Orson, and it was my favorite meal ever! I’m not even kidding, it was that good. Go there next time you’re in San Francisco!

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Union Square. Our hotel was to the right of David Beckham’s crotch.

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I’m leaving you with this final image, which pretty much sums up my entire trip, enjoy:

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Want more photos? Go here.

The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco –Mark Twain

We’re packing up and heading to San Francisco. My mom is staying over to watch Berlyn and Zoey, and I still have a crap load of things to do before we leave. I have to:

wash the dog

buy a litany of crackers for Berlyn

paint the shower enclosure

wash the sheets

hide all of our sex toys

vacuum the spider webs off the ceiling

stock the refrigerator with snacks for my mom (who needs to be fed every 2.75 hours)

pack

write very detailed directions of Berlyn’s schedule

write a how-to guide for the air conditioner, washing machine, dishwasher, and remote control

So, once we get to San Francisco, what should we do? I went once before to watch a 49ers game when I was 16, but I don’t really remember it too well. All I know is I want to go to the park where the Full House opening credits was filmed. You know what I’m talking about, “Everywhere you look, there’s a heart I’m here to hold on to. Everywhere you look there’s a place of somebody who needs you…skibity, bop, ba-daa!”

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I’m not all that into going to Alcatraz, but if I have a hearty wine and draminime cocktail, I might enjoy looking at an old prison.

I’m defiantly stopping over at Kara’s Cupcakes in Ghiradelli Square to get a tasty snack. 525659594_11f8ec0509.jpg

What else we should do?

Sassy Acne

I woke up this morning with three new zits. They are huge, and because they have taken up so much real estate on my face, I’ve decided to name them. The one that sits high on my cheek bone, proud and shiny is named Maurice. The one that is down and to the right of my bottom lip is Bernadette, and the rude and completely inconsiderate one on my NECK is called Phyllis. Yes, that’s right, I have a zit on my neck, and stupid Phyllis won’t pop. I’ve squeezed her to the point of irritation and inflammation, but no sweet expulsion of puss. All I want is a stream of white/yellowish goo to seep out of my face. Oops, is that too gross for you? I’m sorry, it seems I got carried away.
I don’t get it. Right now I have the skin of a high schooler. Well, except I have fine lines, sun damage, and ripe amount of cellulite on my ass. So, actually my skin is worse then it was when I was experiencing my first kiss. This is a shaming realization. I’m an adult. I’ve already lived the embarrassment of having a white head while giving an oral presentation on Don Quixote in my Spanish 2 class. And the horror of having a zit on a date, and then popping it in the bathroom, only to have my date say five minutes later, “uh, you have blood dripping off your forehead.”
Crap.
So, yeah, I’m done with acne. You hear that, Maurice, Bernadette, and Phyllis!? I’m done with you!! YOU CAN SUCK IT!
Maybe to combat my sassy acne, I’ll get one of these beasts:

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You stick it on your zit, it heats up, and incinerates your pimple.

Yes please.

Bad Mommy

I might be a bad mom. Here’s why: Berlyn and I went to Target yesterday to buy some toothpaste and before we left I had 3 cups of coffee and a large glass of water. When we got there I put Berlyn in the cart and after about 6 minutes, I started to do the pee-pee dance. I ran over the the restroom area, and realized that there was no way I was getting the entire shopping cart into the bathroom. As I was discovering this, a mom and her two kids were just leaving. The mom held the door for me and noticed my dilemma. She then offered to watch Berlyn while I went in to pee. She assured me that she wasn’t going to steal my baby or feed her shards of glass. The crazy thing was, I BELIEVED HER!! I was so desperate that I actually left my child with a stranger! Thankfully the woman talked to my child the whole time, and I could her Berlyn babbling back. I was so rushed, I forgot to flush and washing my hands was completely out of the question (I’m not totally disgusting, I used hand sanitizer later, gawd).
When I came back outside, I thanked the woman profusely, and she delightfully smiled and said that it was not a problem. So there it is. Lay it on me people, how bad of a mom am I? Would you ever leave your baby with a total stranger?

Dear purveyors of the Crystal Light Vitamin Enhanced Drink Mix,

A story: I was on my way to school last night when I opened my nalgene bottle to take a sip of water mixed with your Cherry Pomegranate Immunity on the Go packet. I sipped ever so gingerly, but even with my years of experience with drinking, (nudge- wink, you know what I mean) I still managed to dribble a little water on my white shirt. No problem, because it’s just water, right? WRONG!! After looking down at my shirt and discovering a soft pink stain emerging, a slew of dirty word explosions flew out of my mouth (okay, so I have a problem controlling my anger, and I’m working through that, thankyouverymuch). Needless to say, I had to flip the car around, go home and change, and yes, I was late.

You scabrous folks down there at the Crystal Light Lab think that we’re all a bunch of 3rd graders, don’t you? Well let me tell you something, if I wanted stains on my clothes and my water to be pink I’d drink Kool-Aid. Got it?

Please do us ADULTS a favor and don’t put unnecessary dyes in the water. I don’t really care if it’s pink, blue, or green, it’s totally wasted on me. I’m a simple lady and I find clear water to be just fine, plus I can really do without the pink mustache.

Cordially,

Beckey

P.S.

Enclosed you’ll find the bill for my dry cleaning. Thank you.

Water Words

Last night in class we had a teacher give an inspiration talk on being positive and loving yourself and yadi, yatti, yah…

Right before I started to lay my head on the table and draw pretty pictures with my breath condensation, the speaker starting talking about writing notes on our bottles of water before we drink them. What? Has he gone mad? He handed us all a marker, a post-it, and a bottle of water, declaring that if we simply write an inspiration message on our water, we will embody these things, and drinking our water will empower us.

This theory is based on Masaru Emoto’s experiments of watching water freeze and form crystals. He took the same exact water and divided it up into two different containers. The first container he spoke only positive words to and wrote “thank you” on the container. The other one he said nasty words to and wrote “hate” on the container. He watched both freeze and noticed the container with positive words created beautiful crystals, while the water with negative words written on it, form ugly crystals. I found this to be fascinating, weird, and a big, giant bowl of hoo-eey all wrapped up in one.

I decided I was going to try this. It couldn’t hurt. So I grabbed my glass of water and sat it down in front of me for a little heart to heart.

ME: Hey water, I just waned to say thanks for always being there for me and that I love you.

WATER:

ME: No, that’s okay. Don’t say anything. It’s better that I do all the talking because I’m the one with the mouth and the brain, and the stunning good looks.

ME: I wanted to let you know how grateful I am for you. I know that there are millions that don’t have clean fresh water, and all I have to do is open my refrigerator and there you are! Thanks, you’re the best!

After our little heart to heart I grabbed my sharpie and got to work:

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Then I had a thought. If I can write positive things on my water, why stop there? So I wrote on my coffee:

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And then on Berlyn’s sippy cup (it says, serenity, repose, calm, peace, and harmony–hey, a mom can dream, right??):

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…and later that night, on my glass of wine:

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the end.

Things that Made Me Happy this Weekend: an Introspection of Sorts

This weekend seemed to drag on and on…ugh! J/k folks, j/k. But seriously, the way it worked out, I had a 5 day weekend. Let me explain, on Wednesday we didn’t have school, there was some business that was going down on our campus, therefore they had to close the school for a day (read: opiates, hot, hot sex, and money laundering). Oooh the drama. Then on Thursday I got all ready for school and wore my favorite pair of jeans, but when I got to school, I realized that it wasn’t a day that jeans were an acceptable thing to wear. It totally felt like I was invited to a costume party and got dressed up as the love child between Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson, but at the last minute there was no costume party, and I show up, looking like a pot smoking slut. Oh shit. Usually Thursday we can wear jeans, but this particular Thursday, NO JEANS! But I had my favorite pair of jeans on, and I was asked to leave. This made me angry. I drove home in a huff, said fuck at least 7 times, and almost hit a someone driving a PT Cruiser, just because I think that car sucks.

But on the bright side I got to get all snuggly in my comfy clothes and watch So You Think You Can Dance!!! Oh the joy! This was the first thing about my weekend that made me truly happy.

Here’s some other stuff that made me happy:

  • My new Juicy track suit. Really I can’t have enough of these things.

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  • Going on a leisurely walk with my husband and baby.
  • Drinking a Guinness with a shamrock in the foam.

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  • Cupcakes in the morning

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  • And finally seeing Sex and the City with a fabulous friend.

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What made you guys happy this weekend??