I enjoy learning. Yes, my book shelves are crammed with enough chick-lit to make you dry heave, but I do love sociology, history, and woman’s studies…I can confidently say I know a lot, about a little, and a little about a lot. That said, I HATED school.

Waking up early? No thanks.  Dealing with the “I’m going to puke” feeling when you’re in a class room with thirty other kids, (most of whom are ignorant fucks) waiting for the teacher to call on you, and request you do a math equation on the blackboard, or worse recite a poem you never memorized (sup fourth grade?).  I had the WORST social anxiety as a fourth grader, even though now I can be charming, and silly without a second though.  When I attended public school, I can really say I never had a teacher that reached out to me, who inspired me to do great things, or who pushed me.

In second grade I was terrible at math. Give me books, and writing but no math please, k thanks. I still remember the feeling when my psycho teacher used to make me stand up and try to figure out equations on the board… With everyone watching. I would be a sweating, trembling mess, and of course I got them wrong. I was too worried about how red my face was, to give a shit whether 2 x 4956 = wait, what? This is the same teacher that poked fun of my drawing at Abe Lincoln, and ripped it up and threw it out, because it wasn’t “neat enough..” Last day of school I puked on her rug. Bitch.

Middle school? Forget it. I used to write stories during Algerbra, and I avoided doing homework at all costs. I did however, read about 1,000 books during those years that I getting the life sucked out of me at public school.

High school was the worst. Freshman year I had no clue who I was. Was I the sweet silly nerd with a pension for books and horror movies? Or the pot smoking, rebel who wanted to skip class and hang out with the “cool kids” talking about ecstasy and blow jobs? The school had so many kids, and so many RULES, and so many classes that I was lost within like, 5 hrs of being there. It was much more easy to wander around town a little stoned, and a little hungry looking for munchies and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. I lasted a year in public school, and went on to catholic school which was worse. I tried to reinvent myself as this nerd but really, I had so much SHIT going on in my life that it didn’t work.

When I went to an alternative private school, my life shaped up. I had teachers who saw a writer in me, and kids who could appreciate my quirky ways. I made friends. I learned so much, and my thirst  for knowledge was quenched with extra assignments, and projects to do at home. I read during study hall. I played board games with teachers and students and laughed so hard I could have peed. I wanted to go to school, I looked forward  to the end of summer and the purchase of new Five Star notebooks, and J crew hoodies.  And you know what sucked? It was only junior/senior year I got this kind of education. The kind that every kid should get.

I want my daughter to be able to learn at her own pace. I don’t want to have her stand up in front of a classroom of 40 ignorant brats laughing at her while she tries to figure out a math problem. I want her to learn the arts, and the importance of books, and reading, and healthy foods and creativity. I want a teacher who may understand that while she’s good at some subjects, she needs help with others, and not to push her too hard. To be understanding, and sympathetic. I don’t EVER want her to have a teacher that rips up art work, and makes her cry.

So, I’m on the hunt for the perfect schools. And my kids one.

The things I will do to procastinate from  actual WORK!

On other notes: my daughter took a poo today that made me run into the other room laughing inside that Kate is here, and I don’t HAVVEE to feel change her. I think I even said “I’m glad it’s you not me!” but I’ll buy her a sandwich at Friendly’s tonight to make up for my evil working mom ways.

I’ve never particularly liked Uggs. They are one of those trends that make me throw up in my mouth a little, especially when paired with denim mini skirts, in summer, in California. I went to high school with babes who wore them tucked into their sweatpants, and I used to quietly make fun of them in my own head, but now I have to admit I own a pair.

aren’t they kind of cute?

Thanks to my mom’s supreme shopping skills, and use of coupons they were not as much as we spend bi-weekly on food. And guess what? They have fur inside! My feet were cold this morning so I stuck a toe in, and shuddered a little at the softness. They also look like sweaters on my feet - I can get down with that. I really want to take them out on a frosty fall morning, but I know I should relish in the summer days while they last. And I’ve also realized I don’t need to feel bad for owning something I so adamantly hated years ago. Sure, spending $200 on boots is pretty much not required in order to survive on planet earth, but if you’ve got coupons and can swing it, why feel bad? Why the hell do I even need to write this post trying to justify my new trendy boots? So my readers don’t think I’m a yuppie mom who blogs in between Starbucks runs, yoga, and pedicures?

I wish.

Now, on to my next fashion dilemma. What’s a girl to wear when she’s got two weddings to go to, a month apart?  I’ve got two weeks to find a dress to wear to the husbands, good friends wedding and I’m stuck trying to find something that isn’t made for a prepubescent girl. The fun never stops!

My house never ceases to surprise me. I thought I knew about all our fruit trees, and our flowers but today I discovered a pear tree in our yard, AND after walking towards the pond and inhaling the most sweet smell….a grape vine filled with huge, purple grapes. Could I get any more excited? No. Have I fallen in love with the house all over again? Yes!

The other day the husband mentioned work space in Brooklyn during a BBQ and I lost my mind. I composed an email to him with dozens of reasons why I would NEVER leave the “country” for the city, ever. again.  We both work from home, we have two dogs, we have land and trees and fruit why would I want to go trade THIS in for an apartment in Brooklyn? Why would I want to wake up to traffic and people shouting about when I wake up to birds and crickets?

I used to want to be a city babe. Hopping on subways and eating at cafes. But you know what? I’m NOT a city person. The city makes me sweaty and nervous. Subways are not my thing. Sure I can ride a bike around my but clumsy ass would last 10 seconds on a Manhattan/Brooklyn/ANY borough street. I like to stay home, and I like space. I want to have chickens. Sure there’s culture, but how much “culture” do I really need? I can travel now, afford to even.

So, for the past 48 hrs I’ve been a nut job shouting here and shouting there about how much I want to stay in this house FOREVER and the husband had to remind me it was a little THOUGHT that wouldn’t happen, and he too wants to stay here. Figures, after heartburn and “feelings” emails he tells me.

But really, grapes! Should I make my own wine? Pears and brie anyone?

I’m going to learn how to sew.

I’m the least crafty person on this planet [although I have a pension for pricey handmade things] but I really really want to sew my own toddler clothes. I already scoped out a black fabric featuring orange witches on it that I want to make a dress out of for Halloween, and I have visions of vintage floral print bloomers dancing through my mind.  I yearn for fabric like a  baby yearns for breast milk. I suppose I will need a teacher, and my new mom friend has offered her sewing services, and I’m going to need a sewing machine, so I’ll look on Ebay for that. I’ve already envisioned our empty guest room as a sewing haven for me, filled with rare fabrics, and wooden buttons shaped like bunnies but we will see.

Oh, and readers? I have a bone to pick. I read blogs that get CRAZY amounts of comments from dedicated readers and I know I’ve got some. Quite a few in fact, so what the fuck is stopping you from commenting me?   To offer some incentive I’m holding a contest:

First ten readers to comment this blog, will win a prize. Ive already got it picked out, so this isn’t a joke, and you’re going to love it, it’s a real HOOT [that’s your hint, obviously..] So get on it!

Yesterday H and I played the “what we like about each other game…” aka the “self esteem booster” exercise.

I like that she is an excellent cook, and will save me a peanut butter cupcake. I love that she can see the beauty in a late night drive, with a ciggarette, a good song, some good conversation and a stretch of country road. She has the same entusiasm for picnics, doing nothing while smoking a joint, and used book stores as I do. We can talk about books, and authors without pausing for breath, and we never fight. We can let each other know when the other is being a cunt, but we don’t fight. I like her mom haircut, and the love she has for my child.

She likes my enthuiasm for mundane things, and the fact that the second I come home, my pants and bra come off and I pee with the door open while talking to everyone in the house.  She enjoys the fact that I an appreciate a five star meal and in the same breath speak of my love for Taco Bell Chalupas and cherry Pepsi. She finds the half-ass way I do things endearing,  and gets a kick out of the nicknames I have for my daughter. She thinks I’m raising one hell of an awesome kid, and I can appreciate that.

Now, on another note I have established some “fall” resolutions:

1. I’m going to spend fall and winter reading everything I can about gardening, and come spring I’m going to take the kid, and myself out to the yard to weed, and plant and wait for all our own veggies, and fruit to grow.

2. I’m going to quit smoking [old news] even if it turns me into a raging bitch.

3. I’m going to cook more, and utilize all my cookbooks to create tasty, healthy meals.

4. I’m going to get some penpals.

5. I’m going to make H a package every month of books, and small treasures while she’s away.

6. I’m going to plan a winter trip, around Christmas for the family.

7. I’m going to write…REALLY write, and get my book done by winter.

And that’s it. Do you have “fall resolutions” if so, what are they?

I like shopping. I refer to it as “searching for treasure…” but really it’s just shopping. I shop for blood orange scented candles for my office, and homemade cardigans for Baby Weird. I drool over beautifully illustrated children books, and go to the bookstore once a week to add to our own collection. I’m not into clothes as much; leggings and soft sweaters with tee’s are my “thing…” but I do adore little toddler girl dresses that have little buttons shaped like strawberries, and lace trim that has been sewed with the most delicate hand. Once in awhile I like to put on nice shoes, and a dress and go to a resturant that serves food so good I moan when I eat it. I’ve got a little problem with organic face scrubs that cost as much as a few hours of babysitting.

And that’s bad.

I should be more like my neighbors, who grow their own veggies and wear second, and third, and fourth hand clothes. One of my favorite things to do is search for pretty scarves while sipping an iced coffee. Baby weird? She digs shopping too. When hide out in the racks and she takes silky blouses and rubs them on her cheeks. I could shop every day of the week. I’m not stingy - I like to buy the husband tee shirts that he finds silly, but wears for two weeks in a row…and I like to buy my girl friends dresses that they would look cute in, when we go out to dinner.

But unless I plan on winning the lottery, I’m going to stop. Starting Setember 1st, THIS momma is making 3 major changes

1. I’m going to put my foot down, and turn a cheek to beautiful homemade baby clothes, and face scrubs. I am, going to keep working, and putting that money towards trips, and mom-baby activities. Oh, and baby sitters.

2. I’m going to start eating healthy. With only a Reeces, and Butterfinger left in my candy stash this shouldn’t be too hard.  I’m also going to stat making breakfast AND dinner at least 4x per week, even if it sucks. I am  horrible cook, but I’d like the chance to be better.

3. I’m going to stop smoking. Now, since it’s going to be cold soon and I only smoke outside this won’t be too bad.

That’s it. Healthy living, less spending, and no smoking. Needless to say, I will be a lunatic for the entire month of September, but what can you do.

What kind of toddler has THREE birthday parties? Apparently, little Baby Weirds. We had one party for her [which I wrote about] with strawberry icing cupcakes, and mojitos and it was very laid back, and not too birthday-ish. Than we had the Grandpa’s over [everybody is divorced] for burgers, and iced tea on her actual birthday, and yesterday Grandma Weird had a birthday party for her at HER house, with an Elmo cake and more presents. Three parties, one baby. We are supposed to go pick the kid up tomorow for a doctors appointment in New York [her final, ONE YEAR appointment] and than for two days we keep her, only to bring her…back to Grandma’s? They are going to show her off at a family BBQ. My child is like, a prize show dog?

I’ve been doing the wild things a mom does when she has no child like writing, sleeping, and reading. It’s also nice to MISS my daughter, because it makes seeing her again all the more sweeter. Here she is, picking her nose just like mommy!

She’s classy.

On another note, I don’t understand the woman that are all “I couldn’t bear leaving my child for a few days! I get upset even leaving them for a few hours!” What the hell is wrong with you? The best part about having a child, is learning to appreciate the few days [hours, minutes] you get to yourself. You miss them, and realize how much you appreciate  the things most people take for granted like say, taking a poop by yourself.

Last night H and I took off for a Manhattan infused evening.  I remember a time when the 45 minute train ride was a blast, and the anticipation of being smushed up against strangers all rushing towards the exit of Penn Station. I’d spend entire nights drinking fifteen dollar drinks and dancing with strangers, or just sitting in coffee shops talking with boys. But now, I wasn’t feeling that same flutter…in fact, I was pretty annoyed by the “bro dude” on the train who finished his forty in record time, and proceeded to use the words “dude, brotha, bro, yo, no way, way, etc etc” for the entire ride. While tapping his foot, and sweating a little. It was fascinating and disgusting.

The city was rainy, muggy, and packed with millions of people in a rush. I wanted to scream slow the fuck down! Life’s to short to worry if you don’t catch happy hour!” but instead H and I avoided a giant, smelly, steaming pile of white liquid to get on the E train.  I realized at that moment, why I was glad to live in the woods. Crickets at night, country drives, trees that bear fruit, and SPACE. Gimme gimme gimme.

We did have a fantastic meal that I’d like to talk about

Lobster rolls  with mango relish and blood orange vinaigrette, a petite fillet mignon with white miso  potato puree and asparagus, and a pumpkin cheesecake served in a huge mug that was half cream and cinnamon for dessert.

It was essentially, the perfect meal. Thank you restaurant week! We went to do a bit of shopping, and I lusted after about one zillion books in Barnes and Noble [but didn’t leave without a bag filled, addictions are rough] and it was pretty fun. Being in Manhattan made me slightly nostalgic for all the times I’d waddle around the park, killing time before I met up with Daddyweird after work, and we’d grab dinner, and drive back to our apartment. It also made me so happy I wasn’t living in an Urban area, where the rent was high and privacy limited. Coming home and discovering there’s a cherry tree directly outside my bedroom window made things better. And why do I always have a layer of grime on me when I come home?

My adventure ended at a decent time - I was home by midnight but that’s even too late for my mom-bod. Up at 6am, breakfast, and as soon as the  lifesaver  K came I dove back into bed with the instructions to “wake me in an hour..” which turned into 2 and a half. I remember a time when 12am was the start of my night - oh how things change!

Today in Mcdonalds a woman came in with her two adorable little girls in tow. They were doing the adorable little girl thing, and acting silly while the mom ordered, and I was watching them and sort of smiling until I caught a glimpse of the womans tee shirt that read:

Stop looking at my tits and touch them  in big, bold white letters with rhinestones plastered all over.

Whoa lady. Of course, I couldn’t stop looking at her tits, and I most defiantly did not want to touch them, not even for a Big Mac, but she was asking for it. I feel bad for her sweet daughters - I’m all about tee shirts that say stuff like “I’ve got big sexy brains too..” or even “stop looking at my tits pervert unless you plan on paying for my McNuggets…” but this was kind of, vulgar?

I wanted to ask her if people ever just, went right up and grabbed a handful. I wanted to ask her if her daughters, who were at a reading age, ever asked her why she  wore that shirt, and what it meant. I wanted to know how she would feel if her daughters wore a shirt that said that emblazzoned across the front…

But naturally, I didn’t. I just felt sort of sad for the mom, and her daughters.

I’m guest blogging today for a very lovely lady so go check it out, roll your eyes, and continue on with your day. OR, peep the new glasses and tell me how nerdy I look? I’ve been letting my blindness get in the way far too often, and I shelled out hundreds of dollars for a 10 minute eye exam [thank you health insurance, for not covering vision!]