Stretched, but not broken

I remember the first time I was able to dream after Spencer was born. It was a big milestone because for months my sleep had been so sporadic and interrupted that I didn’t have time to dream.

Last night as I lay in bed unable to sleep, I composed blog posts in my mind for the first time in several weeks. Writing in my mind is my way of organizing my thoughts. Sometimes the writing makes it into this blog and other times it just helps me understand and compartmentalize my thoughts. While I’m tired today because I spent too much time mind writing, I’m also happy about this breakthrough. My brain has been full of fuzz and I haven’t been able to make sense of my own thoughts. Last night, they started making some sense.

As I lay there, I came up with an analogy for how I’m feeling. I’m not feeling broken anymore. Just stretched. I’m still scattered and probably definitely trying to do too much. But, the brittleness is gone. I’m not as fragile as I was, but I’m still not quite whole. I’m on the mend.

I thought about some of the posts I might have written had I been feeling better…

• There’d be the one about how Spencer took a dive off the couch and fell face first onto the floor when I left him unattended. And how I knew he was going to be fine even as he screamed in my arms, but I was deeply embarrassed the nanny had been there to witness my mistake.
• And another about my rather desperate search to book any kind of vacation for Christmas week because I might wither and die from the travel bug if I don’t stay in a hotel soon. We’re going to Philadelphia for 3 days. It’s not glam. But, it’s away from responsibilities and only a short drive with our carsicky son.
• And I’d try to give some sort of insightful analysis into this movie.  I think I liked it. It’s certainly stuck with me. It was just different from other movies and I can’t quite put my finger on why.
   
• How I’m trying to be patient while I wait for Spencer to start walking. Everyone says to enjoy the time pre-walking and I can understand why that is the case. But, he’s been so close for so long and I can’t wait to see him waddling around!

My Second Thanksgiving

Wow. Where to begin. Let’s start with a photo. My mom got me all dressed up to go to Thanksgiving dinner. Didn’t I look sharp?

It’s good she took some photos because my car sickness struck again on our way to Long Island. One block from the house…. well, you can guess what happened. Luckily my mom had a change of clothes for me. Phew! There were 25 kids at Thanksgiving (literally – no exaggeration!) so I had a lot to look at. I was the youngest by about 2 years, but that didn’t stop me from joining in. They all started calling me "apartment boy" because I was obsessed with the stairs – I’d never climbed stairs before What fun!

Dinner was good. I may be young, but I do understand that Thanksgiving is all about the food. I had pumpkin soup, turkey, sweet potatoes and green beans. Yum! And let’s not forget dessert, I had some pumpkin gingerbread trifle, cheesecake AND brownie. (I sooo have my parents wrapped around my little finger!)

The whole ordeal left me tired, so I slept in on Friday until 9:00. And then I went back to sleep at 11 and slept until 2. After all that sleep, I was ready for some fun so we all went to the aquarium. There were sea lions and sharks and glowing jellyfish. So cool!

Today I was surprised when mom and dad were home again. They gave me some Indian food for lunch which was absolutely delicious – I hope we can get that again. Then we went to the park – mom wanted me to pose for a photo for some cards she’s making or something. But I was too excited by the dirt and leaves and freedom of the big lawn, so I didn’t really stay still. But, it’s ok, she’s still going to take me out to dinner tonight. Yum! Yum!

Today I’m Thankful For

1. Learning that dangling participles are indeed ok (via Grammar Girl) which allows me to title my post as such without guilt.

2. A new excuse for holding on to the baby weight. Sorry pumpkin pie and green bean casserole, but you alone with not be sharing the blame this year.

3. Only 14 more hours of work this week before I get 4 days off.

4. My best friend’s sister-in-law is in the hospital now having a baby. Her due date was exactly 1 year after mine. I’m happy it’s not me. And I’m happy I didn’t have to deal with the agony of being overdue. But, I’m excited to see her munchkin.

5. Pumpkin Gingerbread Trifle

6. Keeping up with the Kardashians, Beauty and the Geek, Project Runway, Survivor, ANTM, and all my other reality staples for teaching me that I’m really a sane person even at my most crazed when compared to the folks who go on these shows. Oh, and also thanks to my DVR for allowing me to watch all this garbage TV in half the time.

7. My husband who lets me watch all those shows (though I secretly suspect he likes them too). And who plays Scrabulous with me even though he knows there will be trouble if I lose. 

8. And of course for my boy who’s been such a trooper this weekend even though he’s been sick. And he looks damn cute in a snowglobe to boot.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men…

I am broken. I am in many, many scattered pieces. Who or what can put me back together again?

Physically I am broken. My ankle still hasn’t healed. I never went to physical therapy because who has time for that? I probably should have made the time. And my cold has been lingering for weeks.

Mentally I am broken. I am exhausted – the kind of tired that is so deep in the bones you don’t think any amount of sleep will fix it. The tired is making me emotional in evil ways. I am picking fights over nothing. And ready to cry when there is no need for tears.

It all sounds dire, but the reason for my brokenness is nothing bad. Life is good. There’s just too much life right now. I somehow need to carve time for myself. I need to take care of myself. Writing here is step numero uno. Maybe tomorrow I’ll follow it up with a chick flick. Or shoe shopping. Or some other proven healing technique.

My personal housing crisis

I’ve got a serious case of writer’s block. Usually I write blog posts in my head while I’m lying in bed or riding the subway to work, but apparently there’s some sort of blockage of my creative arteries. So, please allow me to indulge in my current real estate blues.

We’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about where we are going to live – virtual house hunting from our couch at night. We’ve been in our current apartment for 14 months and we moved in knowing it was stop gap solution – 2 years minimum, 3 years tops. We’ve got some time to make a decision, but the problem is that we just don’t know where we want to live.

There are the Brooklyn options. We really, really like Brooklyn, but there are some issues. Very few good public schools. Extremely expensive housing (the real estate bust hasn’t hit NYC). And just overall life can be difficult sometimes – spending 45 minutes trying to find a parking spot while your child is screaming. Things like that.

• We’d love to stay in our current neighborhood, but to buy the kind of apartment where we think we’d be able to live for the long haul, it’s way out of our price range. (1.5 million reasons we can’t afford it. Gulp!)
• We could move further out in Brooklyn to somewhere like Bay Ridge, but it’s a long commute for us – probably over an hour. The good thing though is that the commute would still be on the subway so we wouldn’t be tied to train schedules like we would in the suburbs. But, nobody would ever come visit us. Plus, I’m not sure I’m a Bay Ridge kind of gal though (I hear it’s Republican country).
• There are other neighborhoods in Brooklyn we could afford, but I’m not sure how comfortable I am with their safety and/or ammenities. And we’d definitely need to pay for private school.

Then you’ve got the suburbs. There’s 3 choices: New Jersey, Westchester, or Long Island – all with their own complications. All three have the issue that they are the suburbs and mean train rides to work. A car culture (right now we drive our car maybe once a month). We’d probably lose our nanny. And fear of death by boredom. On the other hand, you get a yard. And a driveway. And a room for all those toys.

• Joo-sey – Aside from the issue that you have to tell people you live in the armpit of America, NJ has some things going for it. The houses are relatively affordable. The commute is relatively short. It’s closer to my family and I have a best friend living there. But, the state is in turmoil. We’d be paying 15-20k in property taxes on our "affordable" house.
• Long Island – Ian grew up on Long Island. He has family and friends there. So, that’s (mostly) positive. But, the Island has a stigma for me. To me, it represents snobbery, traffic, and strip malls. Totally unfair (probably), but I’m not sure how quickly I could get past my prejudices. Housing is more expensive than NJ, but property taxes are about cut by about a third.
• Westchester –  Westchester certainly has potential. It’s expensive though –  house prices and property taxes are high making it a tough financial quandry. And we have zero family or friends there.

So, here’s my question – are options really options when none of them excite you? How do you spend your life’s savings on a house/apartment that you don’t love or that’s in a place you don’t love (or maybe even don’t like). I understand compromises, but this kind of compromise is just so darn depressing.

A luscious 3 hours

What a week. WHAT a week. What a WEEK. It deserves every possible inflection.

I’m so happy it’s Friday. I’ve been sick and insanely busy. I think Spencer can sense it. He’s just given me a 3 hour (and counting) reprieve while he naps. (He does this all the time for the nanny, but I usually get measly 45-minute naps on my watch.) I spent my time lying on the couch watching mind numbing television (Real World, Grey’s Anatomy, and America’s Next Top Model for the record). I almost got up to pick up the zillion toys on the floor. Or to respond to some work emails. But, I never quite made it. I just lay like a zombie. Thank you Spence!

Marathons

I hope I never run a marathon. Because if I do, it means that there is either someone holding a gun to my head or I’ve officially lost my marbles. I’ve run a few 5k races and I would classify that as just shy of torture. But, it’s over in 30 or 40 minutes and then you get to go have brunch.

So, I have a lot of respect for all the crazies who try to run the 26.2 miles of the NYC Marathon. Not something I ever want to do, but if it’s your dream, I’m going to cheer for you. It’s rather fun actually because a lot of the runners wear their names on their shirts so you can cheer for them by name.

I used to live on the Upper East Side and I’d go and cheer for the runners in the afternoon. At that point they have endured over 18 miles and they look it. Today was my first time cheering from Brooklyn. At our location, they were about 7 miles into the race and they were all smiles. Some were taking pictures or talking on their cell phones. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for them – I know what they’re going to look like at mile 18 and it ain’t pretty.

Here was Spencer’s view of the marathon. He kept pointing and I swear he was saying "cwazy".