It's New Year's Eve, 2010. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. I did. So now we sit and await the new year. 2011 will be the Year of the Mama for me. For over a decade, my husband and I have been used to our DINK lifestyle. We freely come and go as we please, work our jobs, hang out with friends on the fly. The coming year, after baby arrives, will change all that. But we are thrilled. We spent most of 2010 watching my belly grow bigger and viewing every ultrasound in awe. In 2011 we'll finally meet the little guy and get to watch him grow with us. What an amazing blessing. 2010 was good to us.
There are things I will miss and things I am glad to see go away from the past year. I was thinking about a few of them today:
Food
Couldn't get enough of: Pop Tarts. The brown sugar, frosted ones. I eat them constantly.
Got rid of: Jalapenos. I used to eat the little rings of fire with abandon. Not anymore. Ouch.
Drinks
Couldn't get enough of: Lemonade. It always settled my stomach.
Got rid of: V8 juice. Once one of my faves, just can't stand it anymore.
TV
Couldn't get enough of: Teen Mom
Got rid of: Toddlers and Tiaras. Good gravy I'm glad we're having a boy.
Music
Couldn't get enough of: hmmmmmm, well, not much
Got rid of: Top 40 radio stations. Blehck.
Activities
Couldn't get enough of: Boating. Early pregnancy sickies put a damper on my sun time.
Got rid of: Boot camp. Wow, soooo hard. Pregnancy came just at the right time. Honorable discharge, ha.
News stories
Couldn't get enough of: Chilean miners. Amazing test of human strength.
Got rid of: Prince William and Kate. Really???
Time wasters
Couldn't get enough of: Facebook. Duh.
Got rid of: Sudoku. Used to love these puzzles, but decided the stress just wasn't worth it.
Material objects
Couldn't get enough of: my iPad
Got rid of: my Mac Book. Sorry, I am a PC.
Bad Habits
Couldn't get enough of: going out for dinner. I really need to stop this.
Got rid of: frozen microwave meals for lunch. They're soooo not worth it.
Pregnancy Wonders
Couldn't get enough of: my home Doppler, listening to his heart beat.
Got rid of: reading other people's stories on the Internet. Scary misinformation out there. I had to stop.
School
Couldn't get enough of: my Econ professor. Such a smart lady, she really made the class enjoyable.
Got rid of: worrying so much about grades. Good enough is ok.
Friends
Couldn't get enough of: the great movie night when we saw Sex and the City 2.
Got rid of: feeling guilty when I didn't feel good and had to say no, thank you.
Family
Couldn't get enough of: Mom's cooking. Especially when I was really tired and puny.
Got rid of: debating politics.
So, I guess I have some resolutions in mind. I dunno if I've ever stuck to any that I made in the past, but I can think of a few. I definitely need to cook more. I used to cook a lot. And now it's like I forgot how. My hubby will ask, "remember when you used to make that dish with the chicken and the garlic...?". And I'll think back and remember vaguely whipping up something. My problem is that I don't use a lot of recipes and will throw things together depending on what we have, so it's hard to remember exactly what I did or what all I put in it. So, I shall strive to cook more often, and keep track of dishes that we like.
Another one..... I will try to blog more. I should have plenty to post after baby arrives. And I won't have school for a whole semester so I won't have that excuse. I like writing and should try to do more. Heck, Sarah Palin's got two books under her holster, er, I mean, belt. What's my problem?
Thanks for reading. May the New Year bring you good first impressions, long awaited second chances, and many happy endings.
All things Olive today:
My husband
My dogs
My future
Friday, December 31, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
No Two Flakes Are Alike!
Yesterday was a treat day for me. The day started when I awoke to the beautiful white landscape thanks for our first round of snow for the winter. There's nothing like watching the dogs discover this when they first wake up, too. They get all excited for me to open the back door and let them out, jumping around and whining, then when the door opens and they rush out into that cold wet snow they instantly put the brakes on and start daintily picking their paws up and trying to find a "snowless" spot to put them back down in. The little dog tries to do a "no thanks, I don't need to pee that bad, I'll just come back in the house now" about-face, but I don't let them back in till they just deal with it and do their business.
Anyway, my special treat for myself was to venture out to the pedicure shop. Now, I used to hate pedicures. My feet are very ticklish and I have a hard time not jumping every time the technician touches them. And I am scared of all those tools they have and what they might be used for and who they were last used on. But this shop is different, I haven't come across any scary tools and the jumpiness is kept to a minimum. Plus, the price is right.
I walked into the shop and picked out a cheerful red polish, just right for Christmas. The person who came over to greet me and take me to the chair for my pedi is the only man that works in the shop. I like him, he's chatty and nice and does a good job. As I handed him the red polish, I glanced out the window at all the pretty snow falling and asked, "Can you paint a snowflake on my toes, too?" Now, this is one of those nail salons in which all the workers are of Asian heritage and there is a lot of chatter in their first language as well as small talk with their clients. Everyone was busily working away, but when I asked this question, each worker stopped filing, buffing, or polishing and looked over our way. He paused for a moment, cut his eyes over to some of the other workers and then looked back at me-- "A snowflake? Just big toe, right? Um, yeah, we can do snowflake".
Hmmm, that was odd, but who cares, I was really just there for the massaging back chair, the foot rub, and to have someone else put some color on my toes because with this big belly in the way, there's no way I am expending that much energy.
The next half hour or so went along as expected: soak in the water, buff the feet, apply lotion, file the nails, paint the pretty red polish, wait for that to dry. I happily sat in a daze while the massaging chair rolled its mechanical hands up and down my back. I snapped back to reality when the tech started to put the flip flops on my feet. This is usually the "All done!" signal. I thought he had forgotten about the snowflakes I wanted. I was preparing to just forget about the whole thing and retreat over to the polish dryer but then it dawned on me that he was stalling. He just wasn't quite sure what to do about my snowflake request.
He walked over to the row of ladies diligently working on manicures and spoke to them. I couldn't understand a word he was saying, but his vocal track was permeated every few seconds with "snowflake" and "big toe". From my massaging chair I glanced outside at the snow coming down and thought "Really? Just go outside and look at one of the car hoods, that should get you started". But I kept quiet, still a little drunk from the pampering.
I saw one of the ladies gesture and draw a virtual snowflake in the air with her finger to get him started. He chewed on that for a second and came back to work. I wanted to tell him he could pretty much do white polka dots at this point and I would be happy. I'm not that hard to please. It's not like my snowflake-speckled toes are going to be on display at the local art museum. And I hate to cause someone such unwarranted angst. So I glanced around the shop and watched the TV on the wall so as not to stare at him and add on any pressure.
Shortly one of the coworkers came over to investigate. I recognized her, she did a beautiful hibiscus flower on each of my toes during the summer. I decided she must be the designated nail artist of the shop. She stood over him with her hands on her hips and watched for a few seconds. I looked down to see what had been done so far. Bless his heart, he had really tried. But what he had produced on my big toes looked more like little tiny white stars and not much like snowflakes. She started quacking away in her language and I did not need an interpreter to figure out that she basically said "MOVE! That looks like crap! Let me do it!" He rolled his chair away in defeat and by this point I am starting to feel like the demanding customer who caused a big hoopla for asking for snowflake artwork on her toes. She even barked over at him "Why you put shoes on?" gesturing at my flip flops. I was starting to feel really bad about asking for nail art.
The shop artist dipped cotton into polish remover and instantly wiped away all his hard work. She was starting with a blank slate. She reapplied the red polish and apparently she didn't like the way he'd done that either because she made some comments to him as she worked. Then she got out her white nail art paint and went to work on the snowflake. First, she drew a line. Apparently that line wasn't perfectly straight because she chastised herself, gasped, and reached for the polish remover as I was objecting "What? That line was fine! What's wrong with the line???" but she was having no part of it. Again she removed the polish and started all over.
After she was got the white lines drawn to her satisfaction, she pulled out some green paint. Now I am really concerned. I'm thinking "Green? Should I tell them I said 'snowflake', not 'Christmas tree'?" but I'd decided I'd done enough damage and should sit quietly. I went back to staring at the TV on the wall. I'm not sure what she did with that green paint, or the next two paints she brought out, but a few minutes later when she said "See?" and I looked down, I had 2 of the prettiest, most realistic, glittery snowflakes delicately and intricately perched atop my two big toes. She did a fabulous job. The other workers came over to see and admire. I looked back over at the guy who started on me first and smiled; I didn't want him to feel like a total failure. It's just nails and paint, who cares.
I guess I should wear some peep toe shoes for a few days after all that work.
All things Olive today:
Snow!
Letting others feel the baby kicking
Starbucks Peppermint Mocha (decaf)
Anyway, my special treat for myself was to venture out to the pedicure shop. Now, I used to hate pedicures. My feet are very ticklish and I have a hard time not jumping every time the technician touches them. And I am scared of all those tools they have and what they might be used for and who they were last used on. But this shop is different, I haven't come across any scary tools and the jumpiness is kept to a minimum. Plus, the price is right.
I walked into the shop and picked out a cheerful red polish, just right for Christmas. The person who came over to greet me and take me to the chair for my pedi is the only man that works in the shop. I like him, he's chatty and nice and does a good job. As I handed him the red polish, I glanced out the window at all the pretty snow falling and asked, "Can you paint a snowflake on my toes, too?" Now, this is one of those nail salons in which all the workers are of Asian heritage and there is a lot of chatter in their first language as well as small talk with their clients. Everyone was busily working away, but when I asked this question, each worker stopped filing, buffing, or polishing and looked over our way. He paused for a moment, cut his eyes over to some of the other workers and then looked back at me-- "A snowflake? Just big toe, right? Um, yeah, we can do snowflake".
Hmmm, that was odd, but who cares, I was really just there for the massaging back chair, the foot rub, and to have someone else put some color on my toes because with this big belly in the way, there's no way I am expending that much energy.
The next half hour or so went along as expected: soak in the water, buff the feet, apply lotion, file the nails, paint the pretty red polish, wait for that to dry. I happily sat in a daze while the massaging chair rolled its mechanical hands up and down my back. I snapped back to reality when the tech started to put the flip flops on my feet. This is usually the "All done!" signal. I thought he had forgotten about the snowflakes I wanted. I was preparing to just forget about the whole thing and retreat over to the polish dryer but then it dawned on me that he was stalling. He just wasn't quite sure what to do about my snowflake request.
He walked over to the row of ladies diligently working on manicures and spoke to them. I couldn't understand a word he was saying, but his vocal track was permeated every few seconds with "snowflake" and "big toe". From my massaging chair I glanced outside at the snow coming down and thought "Really? Just go outside and look at one of the car hoods, that should get you started". But I kept quiet, still a little drunk from the pampering.
I saw one of the ladies gesture and draw a virtual snowflake in the air with her finger to get him started. He chewed on that for a second and came back to work. I wanted to tell him he could pretty much do white polka dots at this point and I would be happy. I'm not that hard to please. It's not like my snowflake-speckled toes are going to be on display at the local art museum. And I hate to cause someone such unwarranted angst. So I glanced around the shop and watched the TV on the wall so as not to stare at him and add on any pressure.
Shortly one of the coworkers came over to investigate. I recognized her, she did a beautiful hibiscus flower on each of my toes during the summer. I decided she must be the designated nail artist of the shop. She stood over him with her hands on her hips and watched for a few seconds. I looked down to see what had been done so far. Bless his heart, he had really tried. But what he had produced on my big toes looked more like little tiny white stars and not much like snowflakes. She started quacking away in her language and I did not need an interpreter to figure out that she basically said "MOVE! That looks like crap! Let me do it!" He rolled his chair away in defeat and by this point I am starting to feel like the demanding customer who caused a big hoopla for asking for snowflake artwork on her toes. She even barked over at him "Why you put shoes on?" gesturing at my flip flops. I was starting to feel really bad about asking for nail art.
The shop artist dipped cotton into polish remover and instantly wiped away all his hard work. She was starting with a blank slate. She reapplied the red polish and apparently she didn't like the way he'd done that either because she made some comments to him as she worked. Then she got out her white nail art paint and went to work on the snowflake. First, she drew a line. Apparently that line wasn't perfectly straight because she chastised herself, gasped, and reached for the polish remover as I was objecting "What? That line was fine! What's wrong with the line???" but she was having no part of it. Again she removed the polish and started all over.
After she was got the white lines drawn to her satisfaction, she pulled out some green paint. Now I am really concerned. I'm thinking "Green? Should I tell them I said 'snowflake', not 'Christmas tree'?" but I'd decided I'd done enough damage and should sit quietly. I went back to staring at the TV on the wall. I'm not sure what she did with that green paint, or the next two paints she brought out, but a few minutes later when she said "See?" and I looked down, I had 2 of the prettiest, most realistic, glittery snowflakes delicately and intricately perched atop my two big toes. She did a fabulous job. The other workers came over to see and admire. I looked back over at the guy who started on me first and smiled; I didn't want him to feel like a total failure. It's just nails and paint, who cares.
I guess I should wear some peep toe shoes for a few days after all that work.
All things Olive today:
Snow!
Letting others feel the baby kicking
Starbucks Peppermint Mocha (decaf)
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