Silly Little Girl

Blubber Mush Wah Sap AHHHH

Dear Baby X,

One of the first things you should know about me is that I'm not a love letter type of person. I don't write newsletters, and though he has been the light of my life for the last five years, I rarely even talk about your brother. This is not because he doesn't provide me with viable blog fodder, believe me. Your brother is insanely funny and marvelous. But..you know. He's 5. He can't give me permission to put his life out there on the internet, and there are enough sticky threads involved in his particular situation that I'm extremely careful about what I say on here. However, you are not quite here yet and as such, I feel rightly justified in exploiting you. Sorry about that. Plus, with your acrobatics lately, I am so fully conscious of your presence now that I've recently had a running dialogue in my head of things I want to say to you.

Secondly, you DO have a name. I choose to call you Baby X here because doesn't that make your grand entrance that much grander? I can't wait to reveal your name. Your grandparents hate it, by the way. It reminds them of cats. You'll understand later, and hopefully you'll tell them to stuff it, and even more hopefully you will NEVER allow them to call you by any kind of nickname. Seriously, kid, your dad and I are giving you your name for a reason, please don't let anyone butcher it. I feel so strongly about this that your father calls me a control freak. He obviously doesn't know what he's talking about. Men.

When I had your brother, it was just me and him. I was so young, so alone in so many ways, that it felt like me and him against the world. My love for him was so profound that I wondered if there would ever be enough space in my heart to love anyone else. I learned over the years how foolish that notion was.

Since meeting and falling in love with your father, I have learned that my heart can encompass spans I didn't know could fit in this universe. How cheesy is that? It's completely true, though. Sometimes it takes my breath away to acknowledge that I am capable of more love than I thought anyone ever felt in the world. Especially now, with 1/3 of my heart centered in my uterus, I am blown away daily by everything I feel for our family.

You excite and entertain us daily. Your dad, who fancies himself the toughest dude in the suburbs, becomes absolutely GIDDY when he feels you move. He pouts his lips (that I sincerely hope you inherit, Dear God, they are gorgeous) and whines when I poke you through my belly. He's afraid I'll bother you. He's so incredibly cautious and protective of my growing body, and you, that it melts me into little mushy puddles of sap on an almost hourly basis. You have rendered him speechless on a few occasions, something that I thought totally impossible to do. You'll understand when you meet him. Your pops, he can talk. A lot. Sometimes you just want to staple those beautiful lips shut, I swear.

I'm pretty sure you're getting the best big brother anyone's ever had. He's so amazing, so funny, so unbelievably bright and talented, all at once shockingly funny and incredibly unique. He is thrilled for your arrival. I can see ideas dancing in his little head - I think the concept of having a little one to boss around and assist in tormenting his parents just delights him. And, like he says, babies are just so darned cute he could BEAT THEM. Um. Sometimes I mumble, and thus Donovan repeats what he THINKS I said, and cannot be corrected after he realizes he's said something funny. Kids are weird like that.

This world you're coming into, babe, it terrifies me. It's changed so drastically from when I was little, which was really not long ago at all. We're only a few months away from the election that I think will sink or save this country, and the possible outcomes scare the bejesus out of me. But however cynical I fancy myself, when I think of kids like your brother and you growing up and affecting the world, I still harbor hope. When I think of the blessings you'll be born with, I have hope.

You couldn't ask for a better family, in some ways. Your grandparents are some of the greatest people you'll ever meet. My mom is a little crazy, sure, and she loves a good conspiracy theory, but she will love you till the ends of the world and beyond, and every time she calls and begs me to take you to the doctor because she doesn't like the look of your spit, just know it's because she loves you so damn much. And your fathers parents are some of the most respectable, inspirational people I've ever met. Their innate kindness, generosity and wisdom seemingly know no bounds. Though I've only know them for a few years now, I attribute a great part of who I am today to the advice they passed on to me. Your grandfather tells the WORST jokes, and you will love him for it. Your dad's mom will get the silliest ideas in her head and pass them on like they're fact. In case you ever wonder, this is where your dad gets it from. And my dad? Well, baby, I didn't know it for a long time, but my dad is kind-souled and brave, and if you inherit the things I inherited from him, you'll be a lucky dude. Your dad and I have siblings and cousins that alternately inspire and crack me up every time I see them. They will undoubtedly be some of your favorite people on earth in a few years.

We are unbelievably excited to have you, kid. I feel like I know you from your tumbles and kicks already, but I know you'll continue to amaze and surprise me for years to come. Just hold tight for a few (like 15, ideally?) more weeks and we'll be together. And me, your dad, and your brother, and just about everyone else we know can hardly wait.

Love,

Your kind of insane, but ultimately well-intentioned mother.

On the Bandwagon

Disclaimer: If you came here for more sappy wedding posts or updates on squishy babies, you've come to the wrong place today. Sorry! Go look at icanhascheezburger.com and come back tomorrow!

We're all doing it, right? Everyone's got an opinion, and everyone deserves to be heard. I've been debating for about two months now whether to address the upcoming election on this blog. It's something I feel incredibly strongly about, but I'm pretty sure ya'll don't come here for my soapbox stance. I'm a little afraid of alienating some of my readers. But I have enough faith in all of you that you're all intelligent enough to not take my opinion personally the same way I won't take yours.

Firstly, I want to say that I'm grateful to both parties - Republican and Democrat alike for inciting a political fervor unlike any I've seen in my lifetime. I went to school with hundreds of kids who couldn't care less about politics - I was always kind of alone in my own admittedly vague interest. But these days, Myspace and Facebook alike are littered with political messages - kids my age are donating, campaigning, and are ready to rock the vote, which couldn't make me happier.

And now, onto the soapbox I climb. I was raised in a fairly liberal family. My mother used to campaign with my aunt for the Dems, and I'm told my grandfather was extremely liberal. I do, however, have two factions in my family that were staunchly Republican. I remember a to-do in Christmas of '00 regarding the election - my uncle and my aunt screaming at each other about their respective candidates and the results. I have another Uncle who is Republican, and his wife just follows along with him. These days, I hear about "her" political views from my mother, and it drives me fucking batty because I know for a fact that she knows NOTHING about the issues and is just parroting her husband's beliefs. That annoys the holy hell out of me.

I've always leaned liberal. In my pre-teen and teenage years, though I knew little about most of the issues, I was always firmly in the pro-choice and pro-gun control camp, which generally automatically puts me at odds with most GOP candidates. Coming into this year's primary, however, I really dove into my own research to pick the candidate that I thought would represent this country best.

In my opinion, I knew that was NOT any of the Republican candidates. Like I said, I'm extremely pro-gun control. I also believe that the government should not involve itself in any moral issues - I can't support any abortion ban of any kind, I believe teaching abstinence-only education in schools is choosing to teach only half the subject and therefore doing our kids an injustice, and I cannot get on board with creating a government approved definition of marriage.

On the first point - mostly it just comes down to the fact that I really don't think the government should be able to tell anyone what to do with their bodies. On this point, I also believe in the legalization of drugs, but I'm pretty sure that'll never happen. Secondly, you can't pick and choose legislation - you can only blanket ban. If you ban things like partial-birth abortion (I'm sorry to any that term offends), you risk the lives of millions of women who would die with their children if they attempted to carry to term.

On the second - Do I believe that teaching safe sex AND abstinence will lower the rate of teen pregnancy? Not necessarily. I was taught safe sex in my schools and I was still a teen parent. But I still believe that you should be taught ALL sides of an issue. Likewise, I think that kids should be taught about Darwinism, because it's science, but should know that there are people who believe in Creationism. I know you're walking a thin line there - but it's not that hard to present both sides of an issue with an objective and non-religious or moral viewpoint.

And the third - Look. I love my husband. I've wanted to marry him for quite some time. If I was told that I couldn't because it "threatened" someone else's perception of marriage, I'd be fucking livid. What the hell right do any of us have to tell anyone else that? How is it not complete and utter illegal discrimination to say that some people deserve less rights than others? Honestly, writing this, I am no longer afraid of pissing off my readers. If you think gay marriage threatens your relationship, go read someone else's blog. I don't want you here.

So those few points were mainly to tell you what was already probably obvious - I knew my candidate was going to be a Democrat. It was just a matter of picking which one. I did my research. I don't trust a lot of media. In my opinion, there's two kinds of media - liberal and conservative, and they each have their agenda. I place my trust in voting records, in my gut on listening to each candidate. And by the time the Pennsylvania primary rolled around, I had my choice.

Barack Obama.

I agree with Hillary Clinton on a lot of things, don't get me wrong. Universal healthcare earned her a ton of points in my books, but at the end of the day, I felt it was Obama who could lead this nation into a better era. Fortunately, a lot of people agreed with me.

Now it's a countdown to November, and I have to tell you - I'm genuinely afraid for this country. I've seen the numbers among Independents and white female voters swing since the introduction of Sarah Palin. It disgusts me. I've actually heard women say that if they couldn't have Hillary, Sarah's the next best thing. Seriously? If you said that to Hillary Clinton, she'd probably slap you in the face. They have ZERO in common besides ovaries. Women like this are the reason a lot of men think we're the dumb half of this species.

When I have the chance to address anyone who is on the fence, my only plea is this - PLEASE. INFORM YOURSELF. You are not voting for a person, you're voting for policy. Voting for someone because he's black, or he's a war hero, or she's a mother of five is the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard. Research. Check voting records. Do an inventory of your own beliefs and figure out who represents them best. I don't care who you vote for*, I just care that you did it for the right reasons.

*I'm lying, a little. I do care who you vote for. BA-ROCK THE VOTE, PEOPLE. But seriously, if you keep your comments here respectful and well though out, I won't call you stupid or make fun of your choice**.

**To your face.

September 6, 2008

It was pouring.

Tropical Storm Hanna was fishtailing it's way up the east coast, and we saw the effects of it in Philadelphia. I woke up at 5 a.m. after a fitful night's sleep thanking God that we moved the venue indoors. I mentally took back everything I said and complained about when we were initially changing things.

My ability to string together coherent thoughts and sentences that morning was lacking enormously. I drove over to my salon by myself to get my hair done. I walked out hating it. I ran over to Walmart to pick up bobby pins and a different headband thing to fix it, and ran into about 6 people that I know, all wondering what the hell I was doing there.

When I got home, I retwisted and pinned, and adjusted the headband on my skull. It would do. My makeup was done, my dress and Nik's suit was in the car. I gathered up my mom and my son and we headed out.

I talked in half-sentences the whole way down, when I wasn't turning up the radio to drown out my mom's voice. A good half hour was spent being unable to speak or listen to anything. My stomach did somersaults and my heart turned cartwheels. I couldn't believe how nervous I was.

The rain let up a bit when I pulled up to the hall, and I miraculously got a spot right outside. The best man ran up with an umbrella to help me unload, while I yelled for the bridesmaids to tell Nik to go get out of site somewhere.

I sequestered myself in the dressing room and my bridesmaids filed in. They looked gorgeous. Each in a different, vibrant shade of blue, I felt incredibly grateful that each of these girls loved me enough to be there for me that day.

The officiant was late, and the Matron of Honor was late. The weather was awful now, people were filing in completely soaked. If rain on a wedding day is really good luck, we're set for three lifetimes of joy.

My mom ran back and forth instructing the DJ on the songs, and then guarded the door of the dressing room. At one point, she was chatting with me, and then turned around and was face to face with my father. They hadn't seen each other in 22 years, and I'd never seen my parents in the same room before. I'm not sure which one of us held back tears the hardest. My father and I hugged, and he told me with eyes brimming that I was beautiful. I was never a little girl who got to hear that from her father, and it'll go away as one of the most precious moments of my life.

Soon enough, the DJ struck up Fields of Gold by Sting (which has been stuck in my head ever since) and the girls began their procession down the aisle. I couldn't see out of the door without being seen, so I didn't get to watch them. I was told they were stunning.

And before I could blink, the swelling crescendo of Etta James' At Last began, and I walked down the aisle with my Uncle Dave. I laid eyes on Nik and thought I would burst into tears right there. When my uncle gave me away on behalf of my mother, I barely stifled a sob.

Nik couldn't have beamed more if he swallowed a flashlight. I finally understood what people always said about him and the way he looks at me.

The ceremony was brief, and the minister mispronounced our last name. My son was whispering and wandering the entire time, but his antics were cute and true to our family.

My voice broke a million times over repeating my vows.

We couldn't go offsite for the pictures like we originally planned, but we managed anyway. When we were announced at the reception, we did a fake Irish Jig and I laughed harder than I have in a long time.

The Best Man's and Matron of Honor's toasts were sweet and amazing and funny. Both of them, especially my Matron of Honor were rockstars all day, and I couldn't have accomplished anything without them.

The food was good (so I hear, I wasn't actually a fan) and the music was better. We smashed cake on each other's face even though we promised not to.

We danced as a married couple for the first time to Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers. We cut the cake to Here, There and Everywhere by the Beatles.

I could go on for days about the little details that made my wedding perfect. But all that really matters is that we got married, and I couldn't be more excited to be Nik's wife.