I'm alive....barely

So I completed my marathon of exams (sort of, I'm still working on my Con Law take home exam, due June 1) and I'm currently starting my summer school classes. Yes, I've lost my mind, but as my lower brain stem is still working and my cardiac and respiration is still occuring, I'm still considered alive, therefore the title of my post.
Jonah is becomming more and more aware every day which means he is getting badder and badder. I don't mean bad, but just mischevious. For example, he has a fascination with anything plugged into the wall. I have pretty much all plugs hidden, for decorative purposes, but a few have to be exposed for laptops, etc. So if there is something he sees, he crawls immediately to it and pulls. You can tell him "No" but he just looks at you, smiles, and continues. Then if you go over, pick him up and move him, he either just crawls back, or goes for the cable box, which he can just stand up and reach. It's an exhausting chase that doesn't seem to ever end unless he decides it's time to eat or sleep. He also has gotten to the point where he wants all of your attention at all times. He'll scream and demand for it until he gets it. He's a lovely child, really, he's just at that age where he wants wants wants. I think we're in for a fun terrible twos.
I tend to think people dislike me and I think most of the time I'm not too far off the mark. Is that egocentric of me or self-concious? Do the two words mean the same thing with a different connotation?
Also, there is a group of siblings I know who have spouses that are EXACTLY like their parents, in personality and looks. To a point this kind of selection is comical, but in these particular cases, I find it kind of disturbing. Anyone else know people like this?

I hate this place

So I pull up to school today after having split Yale's coffee all down my leg (yes, I smell like coffee) and am driving his car, the Cavalier, which, while clean, doesn't make me feel all that glamourous. I feel gross because I've spent the morning cleaning up a baby soaked in vomit, changing his poopy diaper, taking out the trash and starting his blanket that is also soaked in vomit in the washer so he will sleep tonight. My skin looks like crap and my hair is ratty. I don't want to be here because I am exhausted (the previously mentioned vomit soaked baby didn't sleep well even when he wasn't vomit soaked) and I know I will learn NOTHING in class. I also have no Provigil to give me an artifical sense of energy and goodwill towards men. I am depressed because I keep reading Facebook status updates about how people are never going to have to be in school again and I searched on the federal/state job database and found several positions for an archeologist (erg, where were these 3 years ago?) and also many jobs in agencies that I could apply for if I was graduating.I pull into the parking lot behind whom you may ask?
Miss Perfect. Her blond hair is perfectly blow dried and she is wearing shorts--a garment I haven't worn in public in at least four years. She steps out of her brand new Mercedes SUV with the confidence of having a job upon graduation.
It's days like this that I remember why I developed an eating disorder.

Yes, I am wasting time

I should be studying right now. I'm not.
I now have a plan--and all of you who have tons of student loans and want to get rid of them, take note.
I went to a seminar last week about using public service to repay student loans. The basics are this: work for a non-profit (ex: schools, hospitals, etc.) or the government, have a certain kind of federal loan, make 120 payments on these loans as determined by your income, and after 10 years anything left is forgiven by Uncle Sam. It's not quite as cut and dry as that, but if anyone wants anymore info, e-mail me and I'll be happy to share.
This means I'm (hopefully) going to be working for the government when I graduate. I don't really care what that job is--I just want the benefits and loan forgiveness. I will be happy working to (hopefully) do some good and have some good payback as such.
I have become so jaded by the legal community that I doubt I will ever be able to practice law in any extensive degree. I just hate the idea of screwing over someone for no other reason than they don't have enough money to hire a better lawyer. I also can't stand the ego some of my fellow law students have simply because they are going to have a J.D. FYI: there are some people in prison who know more about criminal law than anyone here ever will.
Can I just reiterate how cool Jonah is? Sometimes he is SO frustrating, but I tend to give him the benefit of the doubt because he is only 8 months old and gets his plans thwarted simply by being picked up and placed somewhere else. That would irritate me too.

Long time, no see

It's been forever since I last posted, mainly because I had to get another computer (the 3rd in 3 years) and I lost all of my old websites. That however, has changed, and now I hope to be updating a little more regularly.
What's going on in Murphyland? Jonah's crawling like a champ and, of course, goes everywhere he shouldn't. I have a feeling that "No, Jonah, No!" will become the refrain of his childhood. What gets me is that he always goes for the grossest things: cell phones, remote controls (TV and otherwise), shoes...the list goes on and on. And of course, everything has to go in his mouth. Luckily, I have the compulsion to never throw anything away so I have old remotes that don't go to anything and now they belong to Jonah. Sadly, all my old cell phones are too heavy to interest him (I now know how technilogically insignificant I am if cell phones I got in college are now heavy) so he is continuing to chew on mine whenever he can steal it. Still no teeth, but not for lack of drooling. I'm terrified that this child will never have a tooth and will go through life in dentures until his permanant teeth come in.
Shortly after J-sizzle began crawling, he learned a new trick: standing up. That's right, the skill that isn't supposed to be learned until around 10 months, my child started performing at 7. I am now greeted by his smiling/screaming little face peaking over the crib in the morning while he holds onto the bars like a criminal demanding release. He doesn't seem to be interested in trying to walk just yet; I have a feeling he only wanted to stand to get to things I would put out of his reach on the couch. His preferred means of locomotion is still crawling but I'm sure once he realizes how much more he can do if he walks that will no longer be the case.
Also, he's tall. He is just about 8 months old and is wearing some 12 month clothes. My little preemie no longer looks as such. His feet are big too, which is kind of funny--he acts like they get in his way when he's crawling.
Needless to say, sitting has long been mastered even though sometimes he gets so involved in what he's chewing on he will topple over. The fireplace has bumpers on it and the sockets have plugs in them. His bumper pads have had to stay on his crib, against all SIDS related guidelines, because he scoots in his sleeps and bangs his head against the sides. I prefer no concussions over the very small chance of SIDS (God help me if that chance affects Jonah).
Exams are coming up and I'm not at all happy about this. I feel like I've not learned anything and am rushing to figure it all out. I also have to find time to study with a very fast moving Jonah. Luckily my dad and Yale's mom are willing to keep E-Z-J as much as we need them to (sine Yale's in the middle of taking the CPA exam this helps more than anyone without children could know). I am going to be taking classes like crazy this summer to try and have a very light fall load. I would rather be insane for two months and normal for the fall than have to meet myself coming and going later.
I still want to loose about 20 lbs. (who am I kidding, I want to loose 40!) but I've accepted myself the way I am now, mainly because I don't have time to worry about it, but also because I am always reminded that my son thinks I am the most beautiful woman in the world. I also tell myself that at least I've had a child and am fat; most people don't even have that excuse.

Jesus Christ! That's no Superstar.

Last night, Yale and I went to see W. Keddler Ltd. Presents Jesus Christ Superstar. While it was nice to get out of the house, the two Hurricane Katrinas and one Mardi Tai I had before partaking of the show did not help me actually enjoy it.
The character of Jesus was played by Ted Neeley, the guy who portrayed him in the 1970s movie version of the musical. While I did not care for his style in the movie, I did go into the show thinking that a man’s performance must change over the 30 some odd years he’s been playing this part in various other productions. Boy, was I mistaken. His screeching through his musical numbers whenever he was supposed to hit a high note (yeah, that’s not called singing) made me feel comfortably at home—and remember, my home has a 6 month old who enjoys the reign of terror he has upon the household to its fullest extent. And by the way, I’ve seen more emoting from marionettes. Although when the actor is of social security age, it does make one wonder if his arthritis was simply acting up—and that would have been all the acting he did all night!
James Delisco was amazing as Judas; he just reinforced my belief that all the apostles should be talented black men with cornrows. I didn’t have very good seats and I could feel his commitment to the role where I was sitting. The highlight of the night was when he reappeared after Judas’ death and not only out sang everyone else but outdanced everyone else too.
The actual production elements were sad. Exhibit one: Costuming. Jesus was dressed in a white robe that looked like an overgrown costume from the Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Wow, putting Jesus in a white robe, how creative. I am so glad that Mary Magdalene was wearing a red dress. You never see that—the “scarlet woman” wearing red. I really hope the designer trademarks that idea because I know it will be copied in droves. However, someone didn’t light test their fabric, or at least they’re not listening to Tim Gunn and using Tide Total Care, because it wasn’t so much red as light maroon. When you put a woman in red, put her in RED. Anything else is just lazy. And why is it that when a woman becomes “good” you just put a blazer on her and she’s fixed? Give me a break. She also put on what seemed strangely like a mantilla at the death of Jesus. Why? The rest of the cast wore various rags in off white, brown, and mustard with the requisite sandals. Don’t hurt yourself now with the creativity; I wouldn’t want the costuming to get too out there or maybe I wouldn’t recognize the play. I actually enjoyed Herod—a man in purple lamé and knee high gold boots is always a fun time.
The set and light design were also very run of the mill. I realize that a touring show can’t have much in the way of scenery, but please, in the entrance to Jerusalem scene, could we not use palm fronds? Even fake ones would have been better than the potato sacks the actors were forced to twirl instead. Oh, but I forget—they probably blew the set budget on the big cross and the wires used to “resurrect” Jesus into the catwalk. I was almost suffocated by the cliché. What really pushed me over the edge was the final overlay of a light film that shot the shroud of Turin onto a big sheet from the catwalk to the floor. WTF?

A Quickie

1.) Jonah went to the doctor for his 6 month checkup and he is in the 47% in weight, 78% in head circumference, and the 98% in length. How is he this tall? I asked the doctor and he said, "Well, it must just be his genes." What genes? It's not like Yale and I are descendants of the Jolly Green Giant. He's already wearing 9 month clothes because he is so tall. I have so many outfits he has never worn because the weather wasn't right and now he's too big.
2.) My weight loss has stalled and I gained 2.5 lbs. this week. I blame....um.....the economy. That's what everything else is being blamed on, why not the fact that I am an undisciplined eater? I'm still about 10 lbs. from where I was when I got pregnant and that was about 20 lbs. more than I wanted to be, so that means......I'm screwed?
3.) School is horrible, as usual, and I still haven't figured out what I'm supposed to be learning this semester. It's almost Spring Break and we haven't passed the Civil War in Constitutional Law. I'm hoping it all comes together by exams enough for me to pass. At this point, all I want is to graduate and find a job somewhere that will cover my student loans. Anyone know how I can get a job teaching at an upper level? Anyone?

Big Girl You Are Beautiful!!!

I'm almost back into my pre-pregnancy jeans! I could probably wear them (with a forgiving shirt) right now, but as I still have some stretched out skin that hasn't bounced back yet, I will stay in my larger sized jeans (for all those who have to look at me, hee hee).
I was larger than I wanted to be when I got pregnant, but honestly if I could just get back in those clothes I would be happy.
My husband loves me the way I am and my little boy loves me the way I am, so I should love me the way I am, right? I'm working on it, really. Once you have a child you realize what's important in life and it certainly isn't the number on the inside of my jeans (although I do admit that if I found a brand that sized me at a 2, I would totally buy every pair they made, haha).
Although I really do need a haircut. It hasn't been cut since before Jonah was born and that's almost six months ago. Six!
School is going well, it's just hard to juggle that with being Mommy. I am probably doing the work I should have done in school all along, because I know I won't be able to play catch up later, and man, that is tiring. I prefer being lazy. :-)

Jenna Spice

Why are so many people rocking the Victoria Beckham, asymmetrical bob that I sported with glee over a year ago? Uh, I totally was first on that boat and, seriously, that ship has sailed.
You don't see people still sporting The Rachel, do you?
Well, outside of Mississippi....

A Quarter Life Crisis (or Can I Have a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?)

"Back to school. Back to school, to prove to Dad that I'm not a fool. I got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight, I hope I don't get in a fight. Ohhhh, back to school. Back to school. Back to school."
- Billy Madison
Any update that starts with a Billy Madison quote must be good, right? Or really bad, depending on what you think of Adam Sandler's early attempts at post-SNL fame.
School is back in session and Jenna is there. It was strange to go back and not strange all at the same time. It's like I was watching a DVD, hit pause, then hit resume six months later. Things are the same, but different. I have a better outlook on school nowadays; it's hard not to when you know there are more important things in life than being number one in a class (and I honestly feel pity for people who don't understand what that means).
I watched the inauguration of our 44th president and, for the first time in a long time, I felt hope for the United States. It's as if we've been living behind a dark curtain and it was lifted last Tuesday. No matter one's political opinions, it is wrong to hope that this current administration fails. If it fails, we fail as a nation. Remember, we are only as strong as we are united, weak as we are divided.
I hit 25 last Friday. I can't say it was disappointing, but I can say it is frightening. I am married, have a child, and am finishing a post-graduate degree. On paper I sound as if I am fulfilling every goal the average person has--that I have it all together. Oh, my friend, I have nothing together. I honestly feel no more adult than I did four years ago (and certainly less so than I did at 18). To adapt a quote, if you know everything at 18, you know nothing at 25 (or 29, or 36, or 42). I had the world figured out once and will spend the rest of my life trying to do it again. Don't get me wrong, I love my life and wouldn't change a thing (ok, maybe I would look like Heidi Klum), but the what ifs always pop up when the mind is least able to deal with them.
I have lost 5 lbs. on Weight Watchers and will probably lose nothing this week, as my birthday has given me the excuse to eat processed sugar. I am still about 30 lbs. away from my goal and at least 10 away from what I weighed when I got pregnant, but I am trying to take it a week at a time. I've realized it's not the junk food I miss (although everyone should know of my Doritos weakness and my sugar addiction) but food that isn't junk but still not so low fat (Pad Thai anyone?).
I've been having the strangest dreams lately. I mean REALLY strange. Could I possibly blame the diet?

Some Recent Pics

My mom took a zillion pictures of this pose, but this is the only one that didn't come out fuzzy.
We have a napper!
He likes his Baby Bjorn as long as he is wrapped up in Mama's robe too.

You Can't Control Me, I Do What I Want!

I have been out of school since May of 2008, therefore a lot of TV watching has been done. Sometimes I like to watch Maury Povich to see the train wrecks that think going on a television show to prove what a hoe they are is a good idea. Anyway, one time that I happened to tune in the topic was something along the lines of "I Can't Control My Teenage Daughter," or something just as intelligent, and the girls on this show were laughable.
First, as I recall, was a girl, who we'll call Crystal, who was 15 and hovering around 200 pounds. This little bit of a weight problem didn't seem to stop her from whoring around, as she claimed to have had sex with over 20 "men." She also bragged about the fact that she routinely stole her mother's car to take joy rides with her friends during which she smoked pot and drank alcohol. She was also ready to get pregnant and have a baby. Crystal also claimed to have everything she needed to have a baby and she was shown, in true Maury fashion, in front of a pile of baby gear, some clothes and such (which I am assuming was set up for dramatic effect; I just bet ol' Crystal didn't come to the Maury show complete with her entire layette).
Another guest on the show, or should I say guests, were two sisters who shall be known as Destiny and Dynasty. Now one was 16 and other 14. They bragged about having sex, drinking, doing drugs, and that their mother had no say in their lives because they were "grown women." D and D had at one time beaten their mother up when she tried to ground them from going out with their 20 something "boyfriends." They also claimed to have stripped for money at parties.
The last guest I recall will be called Brandi. She was 14 and looked all of 12 (you know that awkward stage girls go through in middle school? Well, Brandi was not an early bloomer). Her father had brought her on the show because he didn't know what to do with her. She did all of the things her compatriots did and was also trying to get pregnant.
While these parents needed to do a few things (namely call the police on the men who were doing their underage daughters and get them the birth control shot or even an IUD) I also wanted to sit them down and give them an idea of what life is like with a baby.
Yes babies are cute and I wouldn't trade mine for the world, however it is not all belly kisses and toothless smiles. Oh no my friends. It is January and my hair hasn't been cut since August, about eleven days before Jonah was born. In fact, before this morning, I honestly couldn't remember the last time I had actually taken a comb to it. The last time I went out with friends? About three months ago when Yale and I went to dinner with Amelia and Todd. We've had friends over, of course, but it just isn't possible to pick up and go do something wild and crazy if you want to (in fact A and T have been trying to plan a time for us all to come over to their house and have dinner and many factors have just made it impossible). Yale and I did go to his office Christmas party, and while I did have WAY too much to drink, I wouldn't exactly call that a spontaneous social occasion.
The only time I get to have as much sleep as I require (which, unfortunately, is more than the average person) is when my parents are angels and take Jonah for the night and Yale and I break out the Ambien. As it is now, Jonah goes to sleep around 8:30 and will wake up to eat anywhere between midnight and 2 (which is WONDERFUL). Yale usually takes this shift. Jonah then wakes up around 4 or 4:30 and wants someone to hold him while he gets another two hours of sleep. Why don't you just leave him in his crib, some may ask. This is not possible. He just keeps getting angrier and angrier until her turns the color of a beet and I'm pretty sure he may explode. Try sleeping through that. So I will get up with him then and, sitting in our rocker/recliner, I hold him while he sleeps another two hours and I also try to get a few more ZZZs, but anyone who has ever slept in a chair knows this isn't exactly an easy thing. Jonah then wakes around 6 or 6:30, ready for a bottle or some baby food, now that we are experimenting with that. He eats this, watches Yale and I eat breakfast from his perch in his vibrating seat that has been dangerously placed on the table, against all the warnings that explicitly say not to do that, making noises and blowing spit bubbles. This lasts for about ten minutes until he wants to do something else, which Mama has to figure out. Yale leaves for work and then it's just Mama and Jonah. He usually sleeps in his swing for about 45 minutes while I rush around cleaning bottles, washing clothes, and picking up the house which always seems to be a complete wreck. Then, with screams that could wake the dead, Jonah decides he's ready to eat again and we have at it. He now goes through about a bottle of formula a 24 hour period; this formula costs about $10 a bottle and about $50 a case (the case containing 6 bottles). We obviously buy by the case, but it still won't last more than a week. Also, if Jonah is complaining to eat and then falls asleep with the bottle in his mouth (which happens quite a bit) the bottle has about a 1 hour shelf life, after which it must be thrown away due to the possibility of bacteria growing to make him sick.
Sometimes I do get time to myself when my dad (who is retired and lives nearby) comes to take him for a few hours. But this time to myself usually means finishing up any chores I didn't get to do in the morning and possibly getting a shower. There is always laundry to do and put and there are always bottles to wash. My hands are perpetually dry due to washing them so much (after diaper changes, before and after making bottles, while doing dishes, etc.) and my hair has to be in a ponytail much of the time because Jonah will either chew on it (a new little habit he's developed) or throw up in it (a not so new habit). My house now has a perpetual smell of baby vomit, I'm sure, or poop. I always smell like baby vomit. There are usually folded clothes on my couches because I don't have time to put them away. I have no time to work out and get rid of the excess baby weight I am still carrying so I am doing Weight Watchers where I have to watch every morsel that goes into my mouth like a hawk (but 2.5 lbs. lost in the first week, woowee!).
The best days were like yesterday when I got to go to the Health Department and wait for three hours for Jonah to get his vaccinations. Yes, I could have gotten them at the pediatrician, however our crappy health insurance will only pay $200 a year for well baby checkups, including vaccines, so we would have had to pay $500 out of pocket for the shots. At the Health Department they were $40. I then had a baby who didn't feel very well all afternoon and all night. Speaking of our crappy insurance, we are still receiving bills from the delivery. Even though I paid an astronomical amount upfront to the doctor and met our deductible, the hospital still wants more money, because my doctor hasn't filed with my insurance about the money I have already paid, or the insurance company just doesn't feel like processing this in a timely manner. Not only that, but we also owe for Jonah, who became his own person upon the severing of the umbilical cord and also had a rather high deductible to meet before they would pay anything. Luckily they are paying what is over the deductible or we would be stuck with a $14,000 hospital bill for two days of NICU care.
So, all you little hoes that want a baby, think of this. I have stretch marks all over my belly that will never go away--there goes all your whorrific tops you enjoy. The skin was stretched so that I avoid low rise jeans at all costs, and I didn't gain that much weight while pregnant--have fun wearing mom jeans with the rest of us. Also, as much as the guy says he will be there and help, there is limited help a man can do--I am married to someone who goes over and above his call of duty and he still can't do some things right; plus, sometimes the baby just wants Mama. And for a final thought--your boobs do get bigger while pregnant and if you breast feed they get even larger, however they don't stay that way. You know what a balloon looks like when it deflates? Have fun with that mental image.
This should help a little. It's Jonah the first time I fed him peaches. He wasn't too impressed.