Metal Meredith

Just Ask My Mom

I am not sure why. Typically, these are just gifts from my parents. Not birthday or Christmas, but when gifts go beyond reason. I love getting presents. There just seems to be some sort of guilt that trails just behind them, where it gets close enough that I can smell it before it washes over me. Just when I get that first whiff, I start to unravel all the things I have done to deserve said gift and all the things that I have done or said to not. It is a battle within my head that cannot be won, just compartmentalized for later contemplation.

This month alone I have received so many gifts. Phil gave me a trip to London and to Amsterdam for our wedding anniversary, much of which was sponsored by other monetary gifts. My grandfather is funding the removal of a wall in the house; mom is making up for the rest. Dad just came down and gave some chairs to Phil for his new office; at least I didn�t have to feel too badly for that. But of course, then he stayed and bought us lunch.

I have many friends that have no problem dropping a few bucks here and there for a surprise gift. I often do the same. I am the person that will tell you there is no reason to reciprocate a gift from someone you don�t want to give something to. But if I was on the other end of the receiving, my gift conscience wouldn�t let me live with it. In fact, I quite enjoy giving gifts without the expectation of someone dropping money on me in return. I like the feeling it gives me to give them.

So why do I feel my chest start to get tighter every time mom throws down a credit card? I grew up with parents who had no problem paying for us to eat dinner out a lot, bought us new things all the time (my sister and I both got cars when we turned 16, I was lucky to be the younger one, as my car was new) and made sure we had most things we needed.

Maybe I am still not over the fact that I don�t think I was appreciative enough in my younger days when I was getting all these nice things. Lord knows I was more thankful than friends and my peers. I grew up in a school and neighborhood where everyone�s parents seemed to be coming into their own salaries. Many people my age were driving brand new cars and many of them were totaled or best up by the end of their first year. I wasn�t alone in having the nice car, but I was in my appreciation of it. I remember crying when I got it. I had no idea that I would be getting a brand new car. The GUILT!

My mom was telling me today that my inability to graciously accept a very generous gift is something that drives her nuts. But really, what is worse? My acceptance of every gift and always hoping for a little more or me feeling a little sick and a lot nervous watching the numbers on the cash register rise while purchasing some kid�s clothing?

Puking Kid and Dust Clouds

Phil and I walk up the steps to Vivienne�s room. We put her jammies on without struggle, tuck her cuteness into bed, read a quick yet uplifting story, stand on either side as we kiss her on the cheek, �I love you Vivienne� we say. �I love you mother and father� she returns. Then we all crack up laughing at the absurdity.

Since getting Vivienne into her own bed, we have learned a few things about toddler stubbornness. Vivienne is quick to offer to get into bed and read a book. But after all is said and done, she is up and playing on the floor as soon as she hears the click of the doorknob. I will go back in and put her back into bed, when her most recent Golden Globes performance of �Best Defeated Napper by an Infant or Toddler� comes into play. Oh, how I love these moments of parenthood.

This past week, we have had people in to fix our big hole. It is a mess, although I know the inconvenience is well worth the current dust filled cave we have going on right now. But on top of this all, we had our first Vivienne sickness scare. I was not prepared for the helplessness and hurt I could feel for sickness other than my own.

She has had colds in the past; don�t mistake what I am saying. This was the first time we felt that there was nothing more we could offer her and we reluctantly took her to Patient First. There, after Phil walked her around for 5 minutes and I gave all of our information, Vivienne curled up on her mom�s lap and let out about 3 cups of barf right on to my sweater. After she got sick, everyone was trying to help me get clean and I could have cared less. I was sitting wet, smelly and more concerned for my poor, sick child.

Come to find out that she not only had a cold, but a stomach virus and an ear infection. Over two years without a major illness and she throws all that at us at once. Super. In her sickened and exhausted stupor, she managed to wave and say a frail �good-bye� to each and every person at the clinic. Then, on the way home, she sang �Itsy Bitsy Spider� in and out of consciousness all the way home and up the stairs to her bed. Then, and only then did Phil and I lie on either side of her and watch her quickly fall asleep.

We dodged a bullet with no more puking, but she still isn�t feeling 100%. Last night, to get out of the house and give us all a little break from routine, we treated ourselves each to one present from the Dollar Store. Vivienne bought a Play-doh set, Phil bought a bag of those gross chalky sweetheart candies and I bought Vivienne a Get Well Soon balloon. Glad to be leaving the store (where they now sell meat, for a dollar. MEAT for one dollar�ugh), we called it a night.

Lastly, I was flattered all over myself for this post on BloggingBaby.com. One of my favorite bloggers, SuburbanBliss, visited my site and gave it a mention. I was giggling with glee which clearly shows that I need some adult interaction and very soon.

See, I shouldn’t make resolutions

This weekend, Phil and I tore sheetrock off of a wall in our house. Today, happily, someone is coming to asses the damage and begin to fix it.

When we moved into this house, we knew there were several many things that needed to be changed. Although not as extensive as my friends’ ambitious project, this is by far the biggest project yet. Phil and I fixed the bathroom earlier this year. There are a few other projects, not limited to carpet replacement and painting every wall, that were done almost immediately. But there is still a lot to do.

When my Grandfather offered to fund the wall removal project as a late Housewarming present, we graciously accepted. Now, we are living with construction and I am not sure for how long.

In lieu of this new and surprising development, we will be postponing the kick off of Tuesday Night Friends and Family Dinners for about a month. This kills me, because if I don’t go ahead and do it soon, I am afraid I will find many reasons to continue to push the date back. Much like I do with dentist appointments. I know that the first one will be experimental and strange, but those that follow will only get easier and more comfortable.

Speaking of comfort, last I left you Phil was hiding something from me. It turns out he had been busy planning a trip to London and Amsterdam for us this spring. I am not one to brag or to run screeching in delight to the phone to call all my friends, so I think everyone assumes I am not excited. I am. However, I am also really bad about my comfort zone. Sadly, as I am learning, I am much less adventurous that I want to be. I am hoping that this will be my introductory trip abroad, as I have only ever been to Tijuana and everyone knows that doesn’t count as ‘out of the country’. In case you still need me to spell it out for you, Phil is a very, very good husband.

(Phil also took me to PF Changs for dinner that night, where we perused travel books, talked possibilities and future plans and I flirted shamelessly with our waiter – Hi Nate!)

Last on my little update post, Vivienne was just moved out of her crib this week. At 2 and a half, this was a big deal. I loved the baby cage and she didn’t mind it, but she was simply getting too big for it. Now we are in a constant rotation of put into bed, get out of bed, put back into bed, sleep. It is working right now. Joy or joys.

There are new photos from Christmas in the July – December 2005 section and new photos of the kittens and Vivienne’s new room in the January – June 2006 section. Enjoy!

And other Anniversary Stories

Phil and I have been married 5 years today. Well, actually at 8pm tonight. Instead of being good children, siblings, or friends, we ran off to Vegas with only a handful of people and got hitched minus the baggage of planning and family. We got married in the Little Church of the West, right on the strip. Neither one of us remembers much. Phil told me later he was mentally kicking himself the whole ceremony for leaving his hat on. I was trying to look happy and excited, coming across as a little more brain dead than eager.

In the hotel, before we left to go to the chapel, I begged and pleaded Phil to bail out. “I will give you the $400 we already paid for the chapel. Come on, we don’t really need to do this, right?” I think I did this all the way down the elevator and to the car. He wouldn’t let me out of it. I still think it was less because he loved me so and more because he would have lost that money.

None the less, we got hitched. Everyone asked me how it felt afterwards. Thankfully, it felt no different from one minute to the next, day after day. It still really feels just as normal as it always had. It just seems so natural to be with him.

About a month ago, I found out Phil had been planning a surprise for me. It took me 2 days to stop being mad that I found out anything, and then I realized how far he has gone to keep it under wraps. To this moment, I still have no idea what it is. Darn if the guy that was never able to keep secrets from me has kept this huge one for months.

Do you know what is worse? He is LOVING it. He is teasing me with bits and pieces but not enough to allow me to figure it out. I have my speculations, although there are only a few people who I have confided in. (side note: I am sure all my friends know and I have no one to talk to about this with. Thank god for internet friends!)

I suppose that this is where I tell you how much I love him, what a good husband and great father he is, how lucky I am to have him…but I am not. Anyone who knows us already knows all this. And I don’t believe in luck as far as Phil goes. I picked him, he allowed himself to be picked. End of story. 

From there, it has been 5 years of laughing, compromises, hard work and fun.

Thanks Phil, but don’t get all cocky with the secrets, buddy.