The Kiddie Cocktail

That mortal coil

I've been in an age-related panic recently, from moment to moment. Because, for the love of god, I am going to be thirty-effing-NINE tomorrow. That's almost (barely whispers) forty. Fuck me. This does, in fact, keep me awake at night, breathless, pushing my feet against the mattress, trying to find the brake pedal for the moments that insist on slipping by, effortlessly, water pouring by in a river.

***

I am going to be so old when my daughter graduates from high school, goes to college, gets married. I refuse to be tired and old, though. I refuse.

Here's what spurred me on the treadmill the other morning: (a) Last Friday Night, which I am probably too old to listen to, and (b) the sudden thought that I want to be full of verve and energy and dancing like a fiend at my daughter's wedding. I am going to disco and tango and hora, and make her dreadfully embarassed and laughingly proud. I've got to keep running, keep moving, keep going.

***

Suddenly, I am trying to get pregnant again. Am I too old to get pregnant again? God, I should have started sooner. Why didn't I think of this before? Why? Breathe. Breathe. It will all work out. You can get pregnant. You can. You will. Even if you don't, you have Helene, you have her, in all her amazingness. It will be okay.

I'm starting acupuncture today, for...fertility, pregnancy, well-being....everything.

***

My stupid eyes. My eyes. God. They're awful. You think you're nearsighted? Oh no, you are not. I have you beat, I guarantee it. I've just had an awful time recently with dry eyes, due to the thick contact lenses I wear, the only brand I can wear, with a prescription this strong. And then I got pinkeye. PINKEYE. Which I haven't had since I was a little kid - younger than 10. I want eye surgery, an implantable contact lens. I want it so badly. But it costs up to $5000 per eye. And it's surgery. That they can't do when you're pregnant or nursing. I have to be done with that first, before I can even consider this. Which means eyedrops and sometimes, vision like someone smeared Vaseline on a window, and coke bottle glasses that just make my head hurt if I wear them too much, all of that for some unknown length of time. 

I worry terribly about my vision. If it's this bad now, what is it going to be like in 20 years? It terrifies me down to my bones. I block it out, don't think about it, except when something is wrong.

***

On the bright side, I am about 10 pounds lighter than I was when I got pregnant with Helene. Huh. I'll take it. Even though it's most likely the result of two absolutely godawful cold viruses this winter which took away my appetite for two weeks each time. Children. Germs. God. Do I really want another one?

 ***

A friend of my father's recently sent me the most amazing letter. He celebrated his 80th birthday by skydiving. THAT is how you turn 80, people.

I'm halfway there.

Not so bad for an old lady, right? JUST SAY YES.

Desperate Alphabet

I am the lamest thing ever, and have not been writing, so! Let's do a stupid meme to follow up the last stupid meme because it sounds fun and about my speed right now. (Thanks to agirlandaboy and Jive Turkey who are not at all lame or stupid.)

A. Age: 38 for another mere few days, goddamn it.

B. Bed size: Queen, with a desperate desire for a king, which requires home renovation. I love my husband and my daughter, but not always more than my personal space.

C. Chore that you hate: Emptying the dishwasher. I don't know why. It doesn't take long once I get going, but the anticipation of having to do it is so bad. I pile things in the sink and (gasp!) HANDWASH them to avoid doing it. I try to pawn it off on my husband as much as possible.

D. Dogs: Before I had a kid, I really wanted a dog. I grew up with dogs and tons of animals in general. We even talked to dog breeders and rescues. We also had my in-laws' miniature poodle for over a year due to some international vaccine snafus. We doted on that dog. He got walks and treats and massages and shirts and naps in the bed, and so much petting. He even had his own blog. And then we had a baby. And then he was nothing but a nuisance, another chore, poor thing. And I was so grateful that we could give him back, and that we didn't really have a dog. Someday, when the kid is older. Maybe.

E. Essential start to your day: Coffee. IPhone. I put on a cartoon for the young'un, and snuggle up with her and two of my vices on the sofa.

F. Favorite color: Red. Always.

G. Gold or Silver: Silver, though I've branched out to some blingy gold stuff, much to my surprise.

H. Height: actual height is 5'3". My attitude has always made me seem at least 3 inches taller.

I. Instruments you play: Instruments I played and abandoned as a youth: piano, oboe, flute, baritone sax. These days, I can shake a badass egg shaker.

J. Job title: Officially, it's "Trial Attorney." I prefer "entrenched bureaucrat."

K. Kids: One. For now.

L. Live: Washington, DC. (Actually in the District, not in a suburb. Urban snobbery is me.)

M. Mother's name: Wanda Lou. Why yes, she was born in Arkansas. However did you know?

N. Nicknames: Berta, Bert, Bird, Aress, Sweetness & Light

O. Overnight hospital stays: Only one ever was for childbirth.

P. Pet peeves: Litterbugs. "Irregardless." Maryland drivers who cut through my neighborhood. People who do not follow the urban parking code in front of my house, and allow only 3 cars to park there when 4 can fit.

Q. Quote from a movie: "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

R. Right- or left-handed: Right-wing in hands only.

S. Siblings: Half-sister, 13 years older than me.

T. Time you wake up: Whenever the small child does. It's fun! Like roulette! Will this be a 5:45 day, or a jackpot 7:30 day?

U. Underwear: I wear it.

V. Vegetable(s) you hate: I don't truly hate any of them. I tried very hard to like kohlrabi after our CSA was inundated with it, and will not be sorry if I never see another kohlrabi again, but I'd eat it.

W. What makes you run late: Failing to get my ass out of bed on weekdays when a snuggly girl has curled up next to me and fallen back asleep.

X. X-Rays you've had: My ankle in college when I slipped on black ice; teeth at the dentist. That's it.

Y. Yummy food that you make: My no-fail dishes are roast chicken, New Mexico green chile enchiladas, and marinated, grilled flank steak. The most asked-for dish is probably my guacamole.

Z. Zoo animal: I could watch fish all day. Or about anything that's swimming and moving in the water.

You should do this too and then post a link in the comments and then we can be Internet Friends and people who have never heard of blogs will be worried for our safety. Whee!