Made in Richmond

I…uh…eesh, I really have no excuse for the lack of posting other than OH MAH GAH I’m busy and tired. So! I presenteth bullets…eths.

• JR is being kind of butthead about food lately. Meaning he only wants to eat bananas and pretzels. I also found out that he only eats at day care if one of the teachers sits with him and chats him up during lunch. So that’s awesome. And by “awesome” I mean “not at all awesome.”
• I’m loving how the UK version of The Office is on Hulu now.
• My skin is in another funk — normal I hear when you’re on an antibiotic (it goes in waves as things get balanced out), but damn if it isn’t annoying.
• I went to a baby shower on Sunday, and my ovaries *might* have jumped when I saw all those WIDDLE CLOTHES AND SOCKS. ACK!
• JR now says “Ohhhhhhhh no!” but as an expression of excitement. I wondered where he got it from until at the aforementioned shower I said the same thing when the Mama pulled out the cutest little dress and bloomer set. Mystery solved.
• I cried four times today.
• My hair has gotten so long that people who haven’t seen me for a while actually do not recognize me. At all.
• The funny thing is, I still picture myself with really short hair.
• Amalah makes life a better place.
• Ross and I watched “The Hangover” the other day. I totally do not see what the fuss is about.
• But! We also watched “I Love You, Man” and laughed hysterically probably 78% of the time. That seen where he’s saying “Slapping the bass”? Yeah, that’s our marriage.
• My inbox is appalling.
• JR’s class has a color each week, and sometimes they ask parents to bring in a snack representing that week’s color. This week’s color is green. Because Ross hates fake food, he is now in the kitchen making crackers colored green by peas.
• Even if it doesn’t work, I respect the effort because I was totally all, “Let’s just make green Rice Krispie Treats or slap some green icing on animal crackers.”
• (If I did the cooking, we would all weigh 742 pounds.)
• Anyone else in love with Penelope Cruz?

Yup. That’s about how it is inside my brain today. Care to share what’s rattling around in yours?

Because I know you all care so much.

I’ve been on the topical stuff for a little over a week and I can already see a difference. I’ve had no irritation whatsoever. None. Zero. Huzzah! Things are balancing out, my face no longer hurts, and I’m feeling pretty, pretty good.

While I have still gotten a couple blemishes, they are totally small and manageable (I imagine that people like Taylor Swift or Alexis Bledel get zits like this). More zits are to be expected with topical treatments at first — they tend to draw the bad stuff up and out — but it hasn’t been anywhere near as bad as I thought it would be. That could all change in the coming weeks, but I’m pleased so far. Apparently it takes four weeks to really see the results, so hopefully things only get better from here.

With things clearing up, however, I’ve finally been able to determine what spots were blemishes and what spots were scars. And, well, a lot of them were scars. Not much I can do about that now. Or maybe ever? I don’t know how I feel about things involving “chemicals” and “peels” and “lasers.” For now, I’ll stick to “concealers” and “not really caring.”

Ok, I know I’m kind of beating a dead horse with the whole clear skin thing, but hey, at least it’s a break from all the OMG HAVE Y’ALL SEEN MAH CUTE BAY-BEE???

Ahem.

So, skin it is.

I did something great this week. After much hemming and hawing, last week I bit the bullet and made an appointment with a dermatologist. By some miracle, even though I called on Tuesday, I manged to get to see someone today. See? Baby Jesus wants me to be pretty.

My reasoning behind this was “Hey, at some point I learned to stop coloring my own hair* and turn to a professional. My skin deserves the same treatment.” Plus we invest so much damn money to put healthy stuff *in* our bodies, I might as well take a similar approach to what I put *on* mine.

I went in with low expectations. I don’t have horrendous skin by any means and I was half expecting her to send me off with some product recommendations and her best wishes. My goal was to get some advice, a few dos and don’ts, that was about it.

Guys, this was one of the best doctors appointments I’ve ever had. There was no rushing; we had a conversation. I talked about how I feel like I’m in a completely different body since having JR and I just don’t know what to do with myself, physically. She looked me over carefully, discussed several options, and made her recommendations, complete with step-by-step instructions on how to care for my skin and what products to use.

So, here’s what we’re doing, in case you’re interested:

1. Cleanse with Cetaphil cleanser (my old friend).
2. Apply mild prescription topical treatment (generic form of Klaron) once a day. Increase to two times a day if my skin does well with it.
3. Follow up with Cetaphil moisturizer.
4. Become a glowing, dewy princess.

(I added that last part based on extrapolation of data.)

There is a slight chance that things could get somewhat worse before they get better, but that’s pretty commonplace. I’m excited.

And don’t think I won’t be giving you regular updates on this. THE PUBLIC NEEDS TO KNOW.

*Not that I do this anymore. I can’t diaper my child with cute highlights. Dammit.

Ross and I watch TV shows in an odd way. Since we’re so busy all effing week every effing week (trust me, my gcal will make you weep, WEEP I TELL YOU), we just wait until a show is completely finished and spend late nights and weekends plowing through full seasons in no time.

Watching TV this way make you very aware of how characters and shows change from season to season. And I’ve discovered something about myself:

The first season of a show is always my favorite. Always. I’ll elaborate:

Battlestar Galactica
I think the first episode is one of the best things that has ever been on television. It’s genius. While I loved (loved, loved, looooooooooooved) the whole show, that first season is just spectacular to me.

Gilmore girls
I love Chilton Rory way more than Yale or taking-a-break-from-Yale Rory. Plus we didn’t see Christopher that much which was a good thing. Christopher, I’ll punch you in your dumb face, how ’bout that?

Firefly
Ok, this one doesn’t really count because it only lasted one season. BUT IT WAS SUBLIME.

Top Chef (and really any other reality show)
Sure, other seasons are good, but I love the first season because people don’t know what to expect. It just seems less contrived.

Dawson’s Creek
Joey bugged the HELL out of me in this season, but I think Pacey was at his cutest.

LOST
One word: Boone. I’ll say it again: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE.

I want to hear your thoughts on this. And if you have no idea what I’m talking about with any of those, well, clearly you’ve got some TV watching to do.

This is going to be my year. 2010: The year of my skin glowing on its own accord (I stole that phrasing from Susan who has similar aspirations for this year. In fact, all we talk about on gchat is this goal).

As you can tell from recent posts, I’m a bit preoccupied with my skin as of late. And by “preoccupied” I mean “spending every minute I’m not working or mothering looking up stuff on the Internet.”

I’m not hideous, by any means, but things are just not in working order. I used to have normal-to-oily skin and now it seems I have dry, sensitive skin (exacerbated by this awful, awful bitch of a winter). You know, skin that peels and flakes and breaks out and is generally gross. I blame pregnancy.

(I realize that after all of these posts about pregnancy aftermath, I might be solely responsible for the extinction of the human race. Sorry.)

So! I’m now going to solicit your advice. What do you use? What has worked? What hasn’t? Any tips and tricks? It’s all up for grabs: cleansers, lotions, creams, serums, even makeup. Let’s share and commune and be glowy and dewy forever!

Other than the emotional and logistical changes that come with birthing live young (I love describing it like that, particularly around squeamish dudes), there are some major physical changes that are continuing to boggle my mind.

(Don’t worry, I’m not talking about any of THOSE changes. I had a C-section, remember? Hi, Dad!)

1. Feet
My feet are a full half-size bigger. During pregnancy, I only experienced a couple instances of swelling in my feet, and those lasted a few hours at most. But ever since several pairs of my shoes are noticeably tighter.

2. Boobage (Hello again, Dad!)
I was a 34D when I got pregnant. I wore a 34DD while pregnant. I was a staggering 34E while nursing. Now I am some unquantifiable size that left three (THREE) Victoria’s Secret employees scratching their heads before recommending specialty shops. And it’s not even that I’m huge up top anymore. I’m just odd.

3. Skin
Uggggggh THE SKIN. I had finally, FINALLY found something that worked while I was pregnant: Cetaphil. It was glorious and gentle and wonderful. And things were good for a while, but as soon as I stopped nursing, BLAMO. Pubescent skin that is immune to all products. I’m trying Philosophy’s On A Clear Day kit (which is apparently made of gold, judging by the price tag - thank you, Christmas money), and things are vaguely under control. I hear tell that I have to give it a few weeks to get things balanced out. If it doesn’t work, I will write a letter, don’t think I won’t. You don’t make promises to acne-sufferers and not deliver; it’s heartless and wrong.

4. Mah bones
JR was over 10 pounds. So that means I carried a 10 pound thing in my belly. Consequently, my hips are completely jacked up. I can’t lie in any position for very long without it hurting. And, lord, if I’m lying on my side, I require help to lift my leg so I can roll over.

5. Hair
I didn’t shed much while I was pregnant, and I had heard that all of that glorious pregnancy hair falls out after the baby is born. Well, mine didn’t fall out until I stopped nursing. And then my hair suddenly became wavy. I hear it will get wavier with each pregnancy.

I’d love to hear about what freaky stuff you went through because I think biology is weird/awesome. Do share…

I hate vacuuming.

I would much rather clean a disgusting, poop-crusted bathroom than vacuum.

This presents a problem because 1) Ross also hates vacuuming and 2) we have two huge dogs who shed tumbleweeds of fur year-round.

I’ve always said to Ross that if anything ever causes us to get a divorce, it will be vacuuming (That and how he never locks the doors. Ever. In fact, that won’t cause us to get divorced. Instead I’ll be murdered one day by a crazy, sick lunatic who has wandered into our house because SOMEONE didn’t lock the door, leaving Ross a widower).

Anyway.

When it came time for Ross’s mom to ask us what we wanted for Christmas, he made a very specific request with an added note: If you get us this, it will save our marriage.

How could anyone refuse that?

So, on Christmas Eve, Ross and I received something that made our dreams come true. Because not only does it vacuum for us, it’s basically a robot.

Yes. We have a Roomba.

She (because she’s obviously a she) lives under the chest in our living room and comes out to clean the floors after we’ve gone upstairs for the evening.

There’s only one problem. Roomba might actually be the end to our marriage. Because I’m swiftly falling in love with her.

As you may remember, 2008 was the year of selling and buying a house, switching jobs, and having a baby.

2009 turned out the be the year of “oh my hell, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

So, 2010, I’ve got big hopes for you.

I don’t like to set resolutions because as one who fears failure (probably more than I fear death because no one will be disappointed in you if you’re dead — it’s not allowed), I’d be too upset with myself when one inevitably falls through the cracks.

I’ve opted for outlining some suggestions for myself instead. You know, things that would be great if I did, but, hey, no pressure. And they aren’t all self-improvement… some could be classified more like “enjoyment.” Here they be:

Drink more water. Yes, generic. But doable and not at all intimidating. And seriously, guys, I drink way more Diet Coke than is necessary.

Watch more You Tube footage of Freddie Mercury. Because nothing puts me in a better mood.

Invest more in skin care products. I know this seems silly, but I’m almost 30. I think it’s about time I say goodbye to the cheap stuff. My skin isn’t so forgiving anymore.

Let go of some grudges. Some.

Read 1984. Yes, I have never read it. Ross shares in your incredulity.

Use the word “spry” more frequently.

See more movies in the theater.

Get JR involved with some kind of consistent playgroup to help him with the socializing.

Finally start watching Mad Men.

Set aside one Saturday a month to sleep in as late as I want/can.

Ok, now you…

Why hello there!

Sorry for the absence. I’ve been busy doing a few things. Such as…

Making our house look festive for Christmas. This is an improvement over last year when I had just given birth and had just about as much motivation to decorate as to, well, give birth again

Putting this whole thing together for RVANews

Waiting for this lovely lady to welcome her son in to the world (which included a wait at the hospital until THREE THIRTY ON MONDAY MORNING)

And watching cute things like this:

I’m sure you understand.

A healthy, happy, beautiful baby boy

My wonderful, handsome, and loving hubs

A job I love

An amazing church

Supportive friends (both in “real life” and via the Internets)

Selfless family

You, the ones who keep coming back and listening when I really don’t have much to say.

***

My cup runneth over, as they say. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.