The Wordmistress

What's New Pussycat?

There's going to be a writing revolution in Robin's house, just you wait and see. (Not that you faithful readers -or what's left of you faithful readers - aren't used to waiting). But due to circumstances WAY beyond my control, mommy had to drop major bucks yesterday and buy a fancy new laptop computer. And I bought a WIFI card and a router and I'm free as a bird and it's very cool. I predict I will be writing a lot more. So please stay tuned.

In the meantime ... An update.

Lost all my data in the Computer Crash of 2004. Luckily, I did a back-up about three months ago, so all of Mia's pix and a bunch of documents survived, but it's still a major bummer. Onward and upward from these parts.

Been working pretty hard. Still spending a lot of time at my old employer. The freelance life is lucrative, but I would love to get a real job. I'm trying!

Mia is getting older. She just got her first tricycle. She is enjoying daycare and slowly starting to get those words out. I swear that sometimes she actually talks in sentences, such as "There's the cat" or "Where'd it go?" Could be acid flashbacks, though. (Mine, not hers.) She gets more gorgeous everyday.

Both of us gals have been sick, sick, sick. We've been playing daycare soccer, kicking germs back and forth between us. Mia loves to go to bed. Sleep? Not so much. Ah, motherhood.

And the most important and significant thing that's happened lately: We are completely and utterly off welfare! As you may or may not know, Mia and I have relied on the kindness of strangers very much over the past couple of tough years to help us through but I am very proud to say that we now have health insurance and are paying our way completely. We are even working our way through our mountain of debt. Yeah!

So, as you can see, I've been busy. But my new mobility has given me a new leash on my blog, so please, please come back dear readers. I promise I'll drop juicy nuggets to keep you reading!

On Not Writing

Weblogs are funny. When you first get one, you want to post all the time. And you've got so much to say. But then real life kicks in and though you still have lots to say, you've got little time to express it.

I know that sounds like an excuse. I've been way busy lately ... lots of work. But it's started to slow down. You'd think that would have me running for the weblog.

It's like that old friend that you don't want to call cause you don't know where to start. So you don't call. You don't start. You don't even click on your regular weblogs, because they will probably just give you more ideas to write and frustrate you more because you're not writing.

Still, here I am, writing. Gotta give me some peanuts for that.

Speaking of peanuts ...

Miss Mia is eking her way toward her first words. A few months ago I wrote that I thought she had said her first word, bottie, pointing at her bottle. False alarm. In fact, she hasn't said a word. She is all babble city, but nothing comprehensible. Sure, she says mama all day long, but not to me. At her 15-month check-up, I casually mentioned this to the doctor and the doctor promptly scheduled Mia for a hearing test, a routine procedure that is done to rule out any loss so that it doesn't interfere with language development. Well, suffice to say that my folks freaked. I wasn't that worried. She boogies to music and jumps up at the slightest noise. But we dutifully took the test and the little gremlin passed with flying colors.

See, I know what's up. Mia does not want to do anything until she is good and ready. She was that way with every developmental stage. She is supposed to be able to say animal sounds, but for some crazy reason, I only taught her what an elephant says. Does this make me a bad mommy? At least, when I say what does an elephant say, she waves her head like she's waving a trunk and says, "errrrr". Doggie? Not so much.

And she just started saying "bye", 'cept it's another variation on her ever-lovin' "da". She puts her little hat on, waves and says "da" and goes to the door. When she says it she is so proud. She knows she is communicating. There are other words that are coming. She is about to say doll and dog and she sometimes almost roars and barks and meows. Pretty useful stuff, huh?

But most of all, she is always incredibly sweet. Honestly, that kid could do anything anytime, and I wouldn't care. I am definitely the luckiest mommy in the world to have such an amazing kid. The talking is one thing, but that smile. Now that's the best trick of all. And a great reason to start writing again.

The Candle, She Burns At Both Ends

Why haven't I been posting? I've been working. Why haven't I been sleeping? I've been working. Why have I been gaining weight? Heck if I know. I'd like to blame it on working. Maybe it's because I suddenly have money to buy food. But I can't complain. I like the work I've been doing and I'm happy to be able to make a living at doing something I love. Y'know, I always wanted to be a writer. Still in school I never had a plan to get a job as one. I didn't study journalism, or get an internship. In fact, I was extremely interested in booze and boys, if I remember correctly. But I fell into jobs that capitalized on my writing skills and then, one day, I was a writer. It said so on my business card. Externally validated. This morning Mia took a piece of paper from my note pad and tried to tack it up on the dishwasher, imitating how I put her paintings and drawings on the refrigerator. Extreme external validation.

Speaking of her paintings. Get a load of this one.

I, on the other hand, finally updated my professional web site (I know that the link to my samples doesn't work, I temporarily disabled it). I don't really understand html very well but this is a fairly simple page.

I put a moratorium on working tonight, even though I do have some deadlines hanging over my head. I'm aiming for a 10:30 pm bedtime. I can almost hear angels sing when I think about sinking into my nice, crisp clean sheets and sleeping for eight hours! I'm not kidding. Angels. Shit, I think my ears are ringing.

It's definitely good that I'm taking a night off.

Mourning Has Broken

Well the anniversary of Ross' death has now come and gone, and I was right. Things are exactly the same. He's still gone. I guess I was sort of thinking in the back of my head that if we did the right thing and spent our year grieving and healing and doing "what he woulda wanted" like people love to say, somehow something would change. Course I knew this wouldn't happen, but that's how I feel. In the Jewish religion, after one year, you are no longer in mourning. Fairly arbitrary, huh?

My father lost his sister to cancer when she was around my brother's age. He never talks about her. For him, I guess, it's too hard to remember. I intend never to be that way, so I talk about him all the time. And I think about him. I think it's okay not to officially be "in mourning" anymore. But I will never stop thinking and talking about him. And in that way, he will always be with me.

And so it goes ...

Rest in peace.

Day for Night

Somehow over the past few weeks, I've gotten my nights and days mixed up. Every night I am bone tired right around 8 pm, but I cannot get to sleep. Oh, how I try! But I'm lucky if I get any snooze time before 2 or 3 in the morning. By Mia's naptime, I am so wiped, I literally pass out (if not before while the wild one is getting into all sorts of trouble ... please don't call social services on me!) What's worse, is that I work at home. At night. So while this sleeplessness might seem like a boon, it isn't. I'm still tired and trying to sleep. And confused and bleary and, well, unable to write. Mia is great in the mornings, she wakes up at around 7 am and puts on her aquarium, which is this Fisher-Price toy that plays the same infernal music over and over again. But it keeps her occupied for nearly an hour in the morning and that is all right with me. Around 8 she gets more insistent and I drag my sorry ass out of bed. And the cycle begins again. Circadian rhythms, where are you when I need you?

Who's That Girl?

That icon over there on the left that indicates my mood has been usurped lately by another person, a person who lives in another country and has a completely different web site. The whole system is run by the fine folks at unkymoods who recently had a big meltdown and suffered a big mix-up in their database. So every time I'd change the icon to indicate that I was, say, "depressed", this person in Sweden or some godforsaken place would change it to something like, "delighted", thinking of course that they were just doing it for their own web site. Or if I would change it to say "sick", like Mia and I were this past week, it would be changed to say "hungry". I think it's fixed now, but I feel like my web site's been inhabited by a an elf belittling my true feelings.

Speaking of little elves, Mia's been acting mighty strange these days. No longer the mellow child who was content to sleep long hours and never cry, this kid has entered the "pick-me-up", "put-me-down" zone punctuated by lots of screeching and wailing. She is very dramatic and loves to twist and flail her body when she doesn't get her way. Thing is I'd give her her way if I just knew what it was that she wanted! Do you want the phone? No. The dolly? No. Okay. No, you can't have the knife. No, the garbage is gross. What are you pointing at? Do you want to go outside? Up? Down? Honestly, I don't mind any of it, I just want to make sure that she's not in any pain. I can't wait until she can talk ...

I'll try to post more. We've been sick. I've been working. I've been not working. Sincerely, I've been so sick of this country since the whole Jackson flap. There are so many problems, real problems, and just so much spinning of wheels and bureaucracy over nothing. How's someone supposed to write intelligently, when the world seems to be so, er, stupid? I keep hoping that some of these little kiddies can do something about it. I sure hope so.

Post Toasted

This is one of those I haven't been posting posts. I've been busy, yes. Even out of town. But the reason might be deeper than that. Could be that bloggers like me only have a finite amount of things to say. I started a weblog because I had things to say, but it might just be that I've already said it all.

'Cept.

The Iowa caucuses. My man Dean down in a fiery blaze. And I may be tempted to become a fair-weathered friend and it's only because I want to put my support for whomever this relatively messed up country will vote. Haven't decided. I don't even know anything about Kerry, I'll have to check him out.

Families. They're all nuts. But you got to love 'em. Why do they have to be so hard to deal with? Don't know. But it's good if you got 'em so love them up while you have them.

Work. Yeah! I'm glad to be working. What's weirder still is where I've been working, my old company. I've been on-site and bumping in to people I used to work with and everyone I've seen has been so nice. I really like it there. It feels very comfortable. Still like to see some money. Any.

Friends. My friend Dan is in the states from Amsterdam. We've actually known each other since we about four years old, but have been best friends since we've been about 17. He was in the delivery room with me and another best friend, Fran who cut Mia's umbilical cord. His nephew Elijah is Mia's age, and we were visiting in Milwaukee this weekend. Mia and Eli look a lot alike: blue eyes, blond curly hair; and they are at the exact same stage, getting up and falling down like Weebles. That was a lot of fun.

Hmmm. Could have a few tidbits left.

The Fun-House Mayor

I was looking through my journal from early college and in it I had this little poem about a Fun-House Mayor. The poem sucked but I liked the title. Tonight the sentiment is apt.

Upstairs, the landlord and his best friend are finishing up the rehab on the apartment above me. This rehab has been going on for 16 months. Sixteen months!! Can you believe it? His best friend is an electrician and does all the handyman work around here and as I've mentioned before, dislikes me and thinks I'm high maintenance. The tenant has already moved in and they are working around her. Please stop. It must end.

Meantime, my refrigerator is leaking up a storm. They have been helping this woman move in, actually moving her things. And I'm high-maintenance? Hello there. My refrigerator???

And I've been searching high and low for Das Boot, the single pink suede Gap boot that Mia is missing in my apartment. I couldn't understand how we could lose a boot in my apartment, but today it occured to me that she might have dropped it in the trash and I threw it out. I hope it turns up.

A guy on the street, in front of my house said hi to me and was quite flirtatious. He was very cute and was either a musician or pretending to be one. There is another cute musician on my block and maybe he was in the same band.

Any day Mia is going to climb out of her crib. When does it happen? Does she just one day pole vault out? I'm not clear on this. I'm figuring she's got about two months. I know she likes to push me away when she doesn't agree with my program. I guess it's a good thing that most of my curriculum is pretty neat for a toddler. (I'm a simple gal.)

I've been quietly interviewing for some temporary work, knocking out some freelance gigs and juggling the baby. Literally juggling. Like in a fun house.

Jiffy Pop

People hit my web site because I mention pop culture items. Once I titled a post after the name of a Beatles song and that is the number-one reason folks come here. Good thing I like that post. So I wish I always had something spanking cool and interesting to say, but sometimes the well, she runs a-dry.

I will tell you this. I was surprised by my reaction to NBC's premiere last night of The Apprecentice, Donald Trump's new reality show. It was good! It was old school reality. Cat fighting, playground scuttles, it was hard to turn away. I never really got The Donald phenomenon and I don't think this really helped, but I didn't hate him either. I did cringe at the opulence, but I think I could almost relate to the cat scratch fever of the corporate world. Yikes!

My parents are here -- we gave each other a little space over the holidays which was nice. Now it feels okay to have them around. They get a real kick out of Mia, which is easy to do. That kid is the life of the party.

Last year, when I was trying to be perfect, I took off almost all of my baby weight. During the holidays, when I remembered I wasn't, I put on 10. I was already about 30 pounds over my desired weight when I got pregnant. Can you add? I'm not great at math, but I know it ain't right. I stopped wearing my skinny jeans BEFORE they got too small, couldn't stand the depression if I couldn't get them on. But I've got to get back on track. Maybe by writing it down, it'll mean something. Maybe.

Meantime, I'm hungry. Again -- Yikes!