Metal Meredith

Healer of the Universe

Maybe I don’t remember this from my own childhood or I just never gave it a moment of thought, but upon giving birth to my own child, I have summoned the “Power of Mom.”

Today, Vivienne was outside playing in the back yard while Phil cleaned up the deck. Vivienne kept herself busy by walking around behind him, throwing balls, and playing on the deck stairs. At one point, my pleasant quiet was shattered with screams and yelling. I went to the door to see Phil cradling Vivienne as she cried about an “owie”. She had slipped off a step walking up the stairs and had an immediate bruise and scrape on her leg. It was one of those that I have had as an adult numerous times, causing me to instinctively go “Ouch” when I see it on someone else.

Vivienne told me through tears that she had a leg owie and needed a band aid. I took her from Phil and started the routine of Doctor Mom. I sat her down, gave her a hug and talked about how that must really hurt, must have been scary and how things will be ok in a few minutes. I got out the Dora band-aids, gave the owie a kiss (even planted a kiss on the band-aid for good measure), and wiped away tears and snot.

Once the band-aid was on, we talked about how it felt better, how it was ok now and how it was time to go back outside with Dad. So she did. She hopped up, popped right outside and announced to Phil “All better now Daddy!”

Phil asked her “Did Mom make your owie better?”

Vivienne replied “Yep, Owie all better!”

Phil said “Yay Mom!”

Vivienne, in her apparent pleasure that I had fixed her owie, turned around to face me and clapped “Yay Mom! Owie all better!!”

Never, in one million years, would I have expected my most precious standing ovation would come from a two year old with a scraped knee.

And I Am Really Tired

Friday:

830am: Put on new swanky outfit that I bought on my Tennessee trip. It’s a variation of my uniform; black pants and big black shirt, with more oomfph. Go to hair appointment and for once, don’t feel like the out of place loser that I typically do in this atmosphere. Make note to myself about trying to wear clothes that make me feel good AND are comfortable.

1030am: Saunter out of salon with new cut, some flashy color and do a hair flip for posterity.

Noon: Pick up Vivienne who gives me a big hug and says, “Mommy car, Home.” I am all too happy to oblige.

2pm: Vivienne is down for a nap and I spend 3 hours on the phone sorting out a friend’s emergency, checking in with all those involved and rallying the troops to help. 

6pm: Dinner, Vivienne doesn’t want to eat until we put her Chicken Costume on (pictures in the gallery). She then proceeds to run around like a goober. Phil and I are in love with her all over again, me from missing her on my trip and Phil because she was a demon on Thursday. She blows us both away with tracing the letters on her doodle mat like a pro. We keep her up until 930pm, because we are having so much fun.

Saturday:

8am: Wake up and get half hour to myself before everyone else gets up. We eat waffles with chocolate chips. We all get dressed and decide to go to Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens to their new Children’s Garden.

1030am: Vivienne is kicking and screaming and yelling “No Mama, Stay Here. Stay at Moo House (new house for all of those who don’t know Vivi-Speak). STAY MAMA. NO MAMA NO!” My heart breaks as I realize my child doesn’t want me to come. Phil and I explain that I am coming anyway and she screams for the next 4 minutes “Mama Stay Moo House”. Finally she calms down, I wipe away tears and we have a good time at the Garden. (Photos also in the gallery).

1230pm: Home to eat lunch. Typically we would go out to eat on the weekends. But Phil has informed me that we are so broke, it is funny. So we go home and I eat leftovers, Vivienne eats PB&J and Phil eats a frozen pizza (and some chips). After Vivienne’s goes down, Phil and I have a conversation about how gross it is to eat chips and pizza. We are at an impass on either side of the argument.

3pm: Phil goes to work for a while. Vivienne sleeps until 5, then gets up and we take our first walk ever around the block. She picks up pinecones, runs through a sprinkler, collects rocks from driveways along the way and talks to neighborhood cats. She stops at almost every yard and exclaims “CUTE!”. We have a bunch of fun.

7pm: I manage to throw together a dinner while Vivienne and Phil play outside. At one point she starts to run away from Phil. He says “Vivienne, where are you going?” She stops and looks at him with one finger extended toward a tree trunk, “I poke a tree,” she says and then pokes the tree “poke poke.”

9pm: A late bedtime again because she is being sweet. We both get big hugs and sloppy wet kisses.

11pm: I go to bed. Phil plays video games well into the early morning.

Sunday:

7am: Phil’s snoring wakes me up and sets the precedent for a horrible day.

830am: Vivienne wakes up, wakes Phil up and insists on doughnuts for breakfast, chocolate doughnuts to be more specific.

1030am: We head out to the Ashland Berry Farm and go on a hayride to pick out our pumpkins. In the parking lot, there was a woman brushing her 5 year old daughter’s hair while pulling it into a pigtail as she cried. I asked Phil “How sad is that? She is combing out her kids hair to ride behind a tractor and pick pumpkins out of the dirt. We don’t even comb Vivienne’s hair at all.” Made mental note to not become that woman. Vivienne liked the tractor, thought the pumpkins were cool but whined about having to walk through dirt or a little mud. Again, we decide against going out to lunch and opt for hot dogs, cheese and apples for Vivienne, tuna sandwich for me and tiny appetizer size tacos and cheetos for Phil (again we have the conversation, again an impass).

2pm: Vivienne and Phil take a nap. I go to Target. I am pissed that I can’t spend money. I only get what is on my list. I really hate that. My mood goes downhill.

5pm: Vivienne and Phil are awake. We offer the neighborhood walk again. She is excited, puts on her shoes and runs to the door. I follow only to get the hand AGAIN, followed by “No Mama, Stay Here! STAY HERE MAMA”. Once again I am shunned. I close the door on her and Phil walking away and pour out my sadness to my wonderful friends on the internet. Thank goodness they all understand and say nice things. I never fully recover the rest of the night.

630pm: Hamburger Helper for dinner and I am still feeling sorry for myself about the money issues. It is quickly approaching the time to look for a part time job until Christmas and I am feeling blue. It is no one’s fault, there is nothing to blame. I want so badly for Phil to succeed in his business. So I am doing my part to help.

10pm: I decide a shower will help but end up crying about other stresses for 10 minutes. I figure that was enough time to get over it, watch a few Tivo’d Oprahs and feel better. I came downstairs to write a happy entry and just can’t seem to muster up the ability to do so. But sometimes I think it is better to show your true self than put on that mask. It needs a good cleaning anyhow.

I have no plans this week and am hoping this will be better all the way around. I think a good night’s sleep, a few hours ‘off’ tomorrow while Vivienne is at school and a little house cleaning will make things better.

Please go look at the photos that accompany this entry. I know this entry didn’t make you laugh, but the photos will.

Love,
Meredith

Go Get Me My Sweater!

I am elated to report that there is a crisp breeze in the air. The leaves are falling on my car and driveway at a maddening pace. Our air conditioner has been turned off, let us hope this time it is for good.

Vivienne loves going to school every other day. I wake her up and she says “Go to school? Playground?...Yay!!!” There is no question that she is enjoying herself. She talks about her friends Sam, Jonathan, Alice and Leah. Last Friday Phil told me she ran up the ramp and grabbed Alice’s hand all the while saying “Alice! Alice! Hi Alice!!”. Silly girl.

This week I am driving to Knoxville to visit Kym. I am trying not to calculate how long we have known each other. But it is a long, long time. I have to make this trip for many reasons. First, I miss the hell out of her. Second, she has purchased her first home and I am really excited for her. Third, she got me really great tickets for a concert. It is one of those memory lane shows that remind us how old we are while allowing us to act like idiots for a few hours.

There are a lot of new pictures in the July-December 2005 section. It starts in September with our trip to Maymont Park, then the State Fair on my Birthday, which was a lot of fun. There are also a bunch of shots of Vivienne entertaining us with her funny faces and general 2 year old goofiness.

Coming up next is Halloween, year two of Vivienne being a chicken. We are one trick ponies here.

Happy Autumn!
Meredith

I swear I left it right here a few years back…

Wednesday is my birthday. I will be 33 years old. I am neither afraid of turning 33 nor excited. I am pretty apathetic about the day in general. It didn’t used to be this way. This has me asking, where did my birthdays go?

When I was little, my Mom made this a day last forever. Better than Christmas, your birthday was the most special day of the year. After all, you were the only one born on that day (which I wholeheartedly believed until I was 6 and met Young Bin Yim in Elementary School, who shared my birthday).

By high school and up until I met Phil, I would have a birthday week. I started the Monday before the day and celebrate through the following weekend. That gave enough time to see all of my friends and all of my relatives and get presents from everyone. Sometimes, we were lucky enough to get a present weeks afterward!

When I met Phil, I was lucky to have Ronni in my life. During Phil’s breaking in period (which all men go through – I am not picking on you, promise), I had Ronni reminding him and making sure all the things I needed were present; balloons, cake, gift, card, flowers (sometimes), etc. For years he never forgot more than one thing in that long list. Then, the change happened.

Sometime in the last three years, thing changed. I got pregnant with Vivienne and it all went downhill. I stopped reminding people that it was my “Big Day”. I stopped feeling like I had the right to a whole week. After all, time wasn’t going to stop so I could have a nice, relaxing day. With all of my focus on the family, I simply forgot about me. My big day really became the “It’s alright, not a big deal” day. Sad, isn’t it?

This year is no better, but with the knowledge of how I got to this point, surely soon I will celebrate in style again. I am thinking that by 35, I should have time to reclaim my birthday as the most special day of the year. But for now, I will have to settle for an hour or two.

Happy Birthday to Me!
Meredith