I woke up before Sweet Pea this morning and thought I could squeeze in a shower. I brought the baby monitor into the bathroom like I always do, and cranked up the volume, just in case. Less than one minute after I stepped in the shower, as my hair was getting wet (a hairwashing day too---too late to get out now) her little voice started wailing from the monitor, the red lights 'pinging' all the way up. "Shit," I sighed, and speed-showered, again. No time to stand there for a second to wake up as the water comes down. No time to think "Hmm, which shampoo should I use this time?" Shave my legs? Out of the friggin' question.
I miss the days when I could just STAND in the shower and think about my list of things to do for the day. When I could stand in my closet with a hot cup of coffee and decide what to wear. When I could actually HAVE a HOT cup of coffee. When I could sit and watch a TV show or check email without rushing or thinking, "How long til she's up?" Even at this moment, as I write this blog, the baby monitor is cranked and I can hear her breathing, rolling around, taking her nap.
I miss the extra time I used to have....to meet friends, shop, go out...that's what you give up to be a mom. But I also know I would miss Sweet Pea more, if I didn't have her on the monitor.
For her second Halloween, Tia was a ladybug (because my Babyzilla idea---to find a dinosaur/dragon costume and tape miniature skyscrapers to her legs---although very entertaining, was MUCH too involved).
While trick-or-treating at my work she met another little ladybug (Louie's daughter) and they stared at each other, touched each other's costumes, held hands and followed each other. It was so cute it was almost unbearable.
Out of everything Tia collected in her Halloween pumpkin, she thought the best things were PENCILS. Awesome.
My mom lives in the great state of Alaska. We talk by phone about once or twice a week. Right now she's on a trip to Juneau visiting my cousin and she was traveling on Election Day. This morning, I asked her if she knew who the new President was. In a disappointed voice she told me that 'that guy' probably supports abortion and illegal immigrants and that she 'doesn't know what's going to happen now' because he 'doesn't have a lot of experience.' I held my tongue about Sarah Palin.
She also told me that she prayed to God about her vote, that if God knew who the best person was, to let him win.
I voted for Barack Obama, but I wasn't a hardcore fan. I consider myself a Democrat, yes. I agree with his message and believe he will honestly try to do some good for this country. That's why I voted for him. But I have to say, when I watched his acceptance speech last night on TV, I cried. I felt like things really WERE changing at that very moment...not necessarily because we elected our country's first African Amercian president, but because so many of us---white, Republicans, others---were able to look past the color of his skin and support him because of what he represents. Isn't that what we all want? Something to HOPE for. I am not a political person AT ALL and I woke up this morning thinking, "Oh yeah, Barack Obama is the President!"
With the news that Mr. Obama won the election last night, I thought, "Wow, he's the first (half) black President." At the beginning of his speech, I thought, "I hope he says something good and not just the regular b.s." And by the end of his speech I thought, "I love this man!" and that I want to learn from his amazing, fabulous, extraordinary team of speechwriters.
Now, I'm not living in fantasy land, I know Obama has a lot of work to do and it's all uphill and that things don't change overnight, but the thought of the OPPORTUNITY to change something for the better...well that's something to feel good about in a country that has had a lot of missed opportunities.
So, I cried. But maybe it was because I was seeing other people cry. Or maybe it was because, being a minority, I have some inkling of what a night like that means to another minority group. Or maybe because it felt like a change that I couldn't explain was happening.
Ian laughed at me because I had to get a tissue, because I also well up at corny commericals and TV shows.