Tuesday, January 29, 2008


I'm dreaming of work again.

And not of beautfiful designer-ly things, no. I'm not having superior dreams wherein I solve the day's tussle sound in dreamland, waking up aching to get to a computer, to change colors, arrange layout, sketch in the perfect image . . .

No, these are anxiety dreams. Dreams of disappointment and betrayal. Dreams of sadness and loss.

I hate those dreams. EVen more now as I ought to be able to revel in dreams of small tiny hands in mine, and lullabyes and soft, beautiful worthwhile things and beings.

Not this. Not something so trivial, so meaningless.

I want to light the darkness.

I'm just not sure how.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Lesson One:
Never tell a pregnant woman she's "not as sick as she thinks she is."

Better yet, ALWAYS keep that comment to yourself. Thanks!

Thursday, January 17, 2008

The Gods Must Know

So here I am, day two of the most awesome flu I've ever had.

As I was talking to Les yesterday about it, I had a thought that made perfect sense. The gods must know that this baby's daddy will inevitably drag it up mountains, down canyons and across rivers as soon as I let him (sooner, more than likely) - so this little one better start building endurance NOW.

So yes, sure - a few weeks of bronchitis, a week or so of flu - all while having really awesome morning sickness. . . it all suddenly makes perfect sense. This baby is in training. Unfortunately, it's taking me with it.

(And I'm pretty sure it's getting the WAY better end of the deal . . .)

Tuesday, January 15, 2008


written a week or so ago

I want to be that all earth-ey awesome mama.

You know the one, the one at peace with what's going on - who sees this as "just another beautiful and natural event" in life. The one who eagerly reads up on every facet of what's happening to her body and leaves the page amazed, in awe, feeling blessed.

I leave the page feeling slightly nauseous.

I don't feel extra pretty, or glow-ey, or motherly in any way. I feel panicked and fearful and absolutely - oh, what's the word I'm looking for?


Oh, sure. I *am* excited, I am totally in love with the idea of all this... of Sam and I being parents, of a little one who takes after us, all stubborness and hell on wheels and overtly obnoxious . . .

But I don't feel at peace for sure. I feel not at all a part of some miraculous event. I feel quite the opposite. I feel drawn into some crazy play I've never read, some alien adventure. I, quite simply, feel in way over my head.

I'm managing. And please dont' read this as some sort of giant cry for help. It's just a recognition that I am not those moms. I'm me. I'm the only kind of mom I can be, and while that might not be perfect and prepared and beautiful and perfectly at ease . . . well, it's going to have to do. And I'm pretty sure it will.

But in these moments? The days when I spend hour after hour praying to puke, then praying not to . . . it's hard to feel qualified in any way.

Ha. Welcome to the rest of my life, huh?

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Oh,dear. Watching H.Clinton on Meet the Press. I so, months ago, wanted to support her. I mean a woman president!
Alas, now she just makes me mad

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

If you don't like my fire . . .

Big meeting today at work with all other agencies.

I'm thinking perhaps my wisest decision wasn't listening to Ben Harper's Burn One Down on repeat a half hour befor I left . . . .

I do so love me some Ben Harper. *sigh*

I miss you.

People around me are at it again.
God only knows how they do it.
One to another then back again,
something keeps putting them through it.
Me, I've been watching more than fifteen years and it hasn't changed a bit.
People keep talking about a different line
but it never seems to fit.

This is a song for you far away, far away.
This is a song for you far away from me.
This is a song for you far away, far away.
This is a song for you far away from me.

Sitting here all alone is bringing it on again,
I'm gone again.
Sitting here thinking of you is
driving it home again.

This is a song for you far away, far away.
This is a song for you far away from me.

Open the door it takes me back,
oh it takes me back.

Mention your name and I'm gone again,
oh I'm gone again.
This is a song for you far away from me,
far away from me.

-James Taylor

Monday, January 07, 2008

Mobile Posting!

And of course, the first pic is of Stitch. 'Cause what else is worth taking pics of at my work?!


Got a new palm centro this weekend and !squee! mobile posting takes on all new meaning! ( I would like totake this moment to thank my sponsor, Sam, for allowing this fun-ness to happen.)

Friday, January 04, 2008

New Year - New Hair

Small One,

This is the first in many letters I'll write you, I'm sure. A way I guess to remind myself this is all real. To try to put the worries and anxiety of if this is all real, if you're real, away for a moment - and just plan, imagine, dream for the future.

I've thought a lot about what I'll want to tell you, what I'll want you to know growing up - what kind of parent I'll strive to be. What kind of parent I'll fight against being (what comes natural isn't always right, something I'm sure I'll prove to you in my actions over and over and over again.)

But mostly, when I think of some of the first things I want you to know for sure, without doubt and with utter confidence - the answer seems obvious. Stupidly, wonderfully, plainly obvious.

That I am, and your dad with me, stupidly, wonderfully, plainly in love.

We live in a world that isn't perfect. We're making the conscious decision to bring you into a world that is cruel, and mean. That is full of war and destruction. That is dirty and awful, that is slowly being destroyed - in little ways people are too selfish to think about - and in big ways that people decide every day are worth it for mere convenience and monetary gain.

People do horrible things in this world. And I don’t mean just the big stuff that mightn't ever touch you (I pray) - the genocide, the political upheaval, the sheer abandonment of millions. . . but every day people do the truly horrible things - they are ignorant to each other, they are indifferent, they are cruel in only the way you can be to those who love you most.

And yet, here we are - your dad and I, clearing space for you. Setting you in the midst of all of this, opening it up to you - putting it before you. Entering you into this world, knowing all it contains.

And I guess that's why the decision was so easy despite all the horrid things. All the horrid actions people take. Because we know all this world contains.

We know what the world can be when you find love. What the world can be with a hand tight in your own, standing at the edge of the ocean. How much it can hold, how much peace and love (and yes, here I go) understanding, is possible with the breath of your best friend there with you in the dark.

We know that no matter how the universe spins around, nothing is impossible to overcome when you have love in your life. That great change can come from the smallest of actions, and that a smile across a room can light up the very world.

So I know now, that despite all the cruelty this world holds, despite all the violence and ignorance - there is great possibility and great hope.

I always had hoped for it, always had held it in my heart like a precious secret - but now, now I know it. As sure as the ground beneath my feet, the sky above my head. And that's what I want for you, and I think the thing that taught me this most dramatically, what pointed to it, led me there, and keeps me there without waiver - is what will also hold you.What I hope will be ever so real for you.

That your dad and I are stupidly, wonderfully, plainly, in love. With each other, and with every day that passes - with the very idea of you. There are few things in this world that are constant, but few are as stalwartly as this.

You are coming into a world, a home, where love is prevalent. Where it is in every aspect of our lives, and burns bright enough to keep the ugliness at bay.

I refuse to believe that this is common, but rather believe it is something we’ve been blessed with – your dad and I. Something to be treasured and nourished; and that’s how we treat it. Not a day goes by I’m not thankful for it. Not a day goes by we don’t make the conscious effort to keep it.

And we will do the same with you. Are doing the same, already. Every day. Being thankful and conscious. Filling our space with love.

I think despite all the other things we may mess up for you, this one thing will make up.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Finally - it Begins!

So this past year there's been a lot of planning, a lot of thinking - a lot of work into this new campaign I'm working on - and I'm quite excited about where it's going.

Last night, the very beginnings of it went live.

In a couple months, the whole thing will be there. So if you're curious about what it is exactly I do, well, perhaps this won't help much. . . but I'd love to hear what you think and answer whatever questions you have. Funnily enough it's been a running joke I've been so involved and NOT our target audience (moms).

Guess that problem is solved now . . . .

So, go! Sign up for emails! (It makes me look good.) :)