Monday non-stalker kind of poll

So, if you were shopping at Costco and you saw a woman who you were quite sure was the wife of your most significant ex-person, what would you do?

Would you:

1. Surreptitiously follow her around, because actually, you were already heading down the same aisles, noting how she was dressed (casually), what was in her cart (more chocolate than one would have expected), how she behaved with the sample people (politely), etc? 
2. Do nothing – you’re glad he has found his person, but you don’t really need to know details.
3. Introduce yourself with, “This might sound weird, but are you Signifcantex-boyfriend’s wife?”
4. If C, would you explain how you knew that? Or just let it hang awkwardly? 
5. Other: _____________________

 Just wondering.

And on top of state secrets I'd probably be all, yeah, and my mom makes awesome apple pie and I'll totally trade you the recipe for a pillow.

Wednesday: The Bullet Version

• I lost another glove, thought I lost a sock (but, after getting several people in the gym involved - because how did I lose a sock in the 20 steps between the lockers and the gym? - learned that I was looking in the wrong locker), and left my purse at work.
• Bedtime: 9:30
• Awake with India: 11:30 pm. 3:30 am. Up at 7:00 am.
• Caffeine: 1 cup of tea. 2 cups of coffee. With eggnog. Unspiked. Alas.
• Weird smoothie ingredient of the day: None! Pas de smoothie! Nick has been gone all week and dear Mahavir, he needs to come home because I have eaten way too many fish sticks, slept way too little, and am kind of desperately hanging on by my fingernails.

Let me sum up:

The whole bamboo thing would super suck, and I doubt I would hold up to waterboarding, but I know for sure that I would crack faster than Humpty Dumpty if the terrorists used sleep deprivation.

Um, and if you're reading this and you're a terrorist, I don't actually know any state secrets. My mom does make good pie, though. Hand to God on both.

Downton and lack of sleep. With a dinosaur hat. But a healthy urinary tract. Oh, snap (peas)!

The Bullet Version

• Look, it was a hard morning. And then I couldn't find my hat.
• Bedtime: 11:30
• Awake with India: 2:00-4:00 am. Feeding, shushing, rocking, applying gum numbing stuff. Up at 6:30.
• Caffeine: 2 cups of tea. 2 cups of coffee.
• Weird smoothie ingredient of the day: Snap peas.

The Text and Photo Version

Jordan's dinosaur hat: It's is a bit tight and uncomfortable, but better than cold ears. And I quite like the look. I think it says danger! Prehistoric danger! I can totally kick your ass, paleontologically speaking!

Yes. I am a tremendous dork, if that's what you're thinking.

Bedtime: So it's my fault that I stayed up until 11 pm watching the Downton premiere, but you guys, Downton!

I don't know if you've read The Night Circus, but I decided last summer that if I could live between there and Downton, I'd be delighted. Recognizing that both are fictional. And that I'd want my family to come along.

Anyway.

I have to say, I was underwhelmed with the premiere. It was fine, but for me to stay up until 11 when my daughter is sure to rip me out of a sound sleep within three hours, I need spectacular.

For starters, I wanted more wedding. I thought the Matthew inheritance thing was sketch. And Shirley MacLaine's lines weren't clever. She was kind of flat and overdone.

Which is not to say that I don't want Downton playing on a continuous loop at my house, because I still do.

OK. So now let's talk about this one fact that underlines everything in my life at the moment:

MY BABY IS KILLING ME. She has woken up no fewer than three times per night for weeks now. Sometimes more like five or eight times. It is fucking brutal.

She's hungry! And she's teething! And standing! And I am old and tired, oh so tired. Tired like I want to do shots of hard liquor and crawl into a warm, dark hole and sleep for three days straight. Kind of like a little hibernating bear.

Caffeine: See above for explanation.

The smoothie business: So, in an effort to eat better and incorporate more vegetables into our lives, as a present to ourselves, we got a Vitamix for Christmas. We have just begun exploring the possibilities.

I learned immediately that yes, you can have too many beets in your juice. And that if your husband has never eaten a beet in his life, he will be alarmed when it comes out the other end.

Anyway.

Nick has, very kindly and enthusiastically, been making smoothies for us every morning. He gets up before me, or gets up when I'm nursing India, and he gets all kinds of things done before I stagger downstairs. For which I am grateful.


The smoothies, however, are...unconventional.There's always a mystery ingredient that I can't quite place and wouldn't choose, if left to my own devices.

One morning it was an innocuous brownish green. I took a sip, and ooh, it was tart, oh so tart!

"What's in this?"

"Apple, pear, spinach, carrot, banana, blueberries, orange..."

"It's kind of, uh..."

"And cranberries! We have a lot of frozen cranberries! I may have gone overboard."

Good for our urinary tracts, anyway.

Another morning it was cauliflower. Which turns out to be kind of a bold flavor in a beverage.

This morning's tasted kind of like grass clippings. I was trying to put my finger on the flavor.

"Snap peas!"

These boobs were made for talking...

While looking through 2012 photos to make a calendar, I realized the following: I have a lot of photos of my nipples.

Always one boob at a time. I clearly spent a lot of my maternity leave taking pictures of India in milk-drunk bliss, right off the boob. Also, I clearly spent that same time sitting in the red chair with at least one breast exposed at all times.

None of those made the calendar, in case you're wondering. It's not that kind of calendar.

So by this point, India has an old friend kind of relationship with her cafeteria staff.

She'll be nursing, and then she'll pull back, and chat to my nipple. She'll pat my breast, all, "Good job! I'm a big fan of today's flavor! What is that? Peppermint and chocolate? Good stuff!"

She might look up at me - although not with the same surprise that Jordan did - and give me a hello or a smile or something. I mean, she's glad I'm there, generally.

And then she'll turn back to eating and hanging out with her friends.

Happy New Year!

India's New Year's Day dinner consisted of: squash-prune-apple, Cheerios, and avocado. As you can see.

All of which she insisted on eating ALL BY HERSELF. As you can also see.

Now if you try to feed her, she waves her arms frantically in front of her face, batting away your spoon and sending food flying. She's also generous about offering food to others. Jordan got a cheerily proffered cheek- and noseful of yogurt yesterday.

And when she is done, she is soooo over it, like, right now, stat, get me out of here, done!

We have a bath every night to get the food out of her hair, ears, chub chub creases. I'm constantly finding Cheerios in unexpected places.

As for me, my dinner consisted of Jordan's uneaten fish sticks. Which, hand to God, I kind of love. Sometimes he, my mom, and I all have fish sticks for dinner. Betty makes tartar sauce with her homemade bread and butter pickles, and it is great.

Fish sticks are a new food for me. I grew up with chapatis and dahl. Not macaroni and cheese, not fish sticks. And so, at the ripe old age of 43, I've discovered my love of this popular childhood staple.

Fish sticks, by the way, are significantly better with beer than red wine. I'm not proud of this knowledge.

But in case you share my interest, Costco has delicious ones. They're big rectangles of Cod, very crispy, but not too much breading. You kind of need Betty's pickles, though, to make them awesome.

As for my Jordan, he's suddenly very grown up. Look, look at this!

The babyness is gone. He's such a boy.

He is thoughtful. He can express himself well, and have interesting conversations. He's doing puzzles! We got this as a gift, and it's just now that he's at a point where he can handle it.

When we first started trying to put the puzzle together, I suggested that he start with the corners.

"Here, let's put in a corner. Why don't we put the corners in first?"

"I don't know what a corner is, Mama."

Oh.

But now he knows what a corner is, and he is loving piecing the picture together.

He's been on winter break, staying home with my mom on the days I'm at the office. They've been up to a variety of adventures.

Today she had a doctor's appointment. So I told him he'd be going to the doctor with Nanna.

Instant drama trauma. Face screwed up, ready for a huge wail. "I don't want to go to the doctor!!!"

"No, no, honey. You're not going to the doctor. Nanna is going. And we need you to go with her to keep her company."

Well, then. This totally made sense to him. Nobody goes to the doctor alone.

This morning he said, "Nanna, I'm going to the doctor with you so you don't cry."

Awwww.

Pretty sure this year is going to be great.