New Words

We are having a language explosion around here, folks, and while some of these words might not stick, a few of them seem to have staying power.

"Oh, no!" This is especially comical when she says it after having fallen down.
"Stop it!" Her nanny says this to her, and while she is right now just repeating it, hearing it in her little baby voice is hysterical.
"Table" which she looks at from her high chair at meal times.
"Bees" which she called dog at first when she saw them on TV.
She makes some noise that clearly means cat to her, though it doesn't sound enough like cat for me to call it that.
She also tries to sing the "up above" part of "up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky..." I think you know the rest.
"Elmo." At anything fuzzy and red. Apparently I am fuzzy and red, because I am Elmo sometimes.
"Shoe." This one will stick- the girl knows her shoes. Mommy is so proud!
"Book." Pronounced "boo" but usually said pointing at a book.

Also, this isn't language, but she's gotten very good at using a spoon to feed herself something that will stick to the spoon. Not so much with the scooping, but pretty good with the bringing of the spoon to the mouth with something on it. She picked that up pretty quickly, too.

We'll probably have pics from the vacation, so hopefully we'll have some new pictures soon. In the meantime, you'll have to content yourself with these from our last vacation, which I have been promising forever.

Holiday Memories

So, the things that made my holidays memorable:

Spending an all-too-rushed night of Hanukkah with our good friends in Charlotte; watching them light the candles of their Menorah and listening to them say the ritual prayers. Hebrew is such a lovely language- it always sounds so old and melodic. Then we all opened presents and shared a few glasses of wine and had just a lovely time. That seems like so long ago now, though it was only about three weeks ago.

Working, working, working: all night, all day, all the time at my office. Yuck. But a very cool deal to be on, and a terribly satisfying closing. Sadly, then continuing on to close three more deals today, which have been painfully drawn out.

Breathing the sigh of relief Friday afternoon, knowing that the next 4 days would likely not include too much work. Fortunately and unfortunately, I had many family obligations that would fill those days.

Driving to my dad's on Saturday morning; the swirl of people I don't know at my dad's house, Caetlin being her usual sweet self, her little blond head bobbing around the various pieces of furniture, surfacing in one part of the room or another. Fabulous dinner, then the embarrassment of having no gift for someone who had one for me. Also an Elmo toy that sings a song that will not leave my head, and the further embarrassment of Caetlin's toe having popped through the foot of her nearly-too-small PJs. Also, warmth, and family, and light, and so many Christmas decorations! Driving back in that greasy misty rain that makes it hard to see no matter what, on the windy narrow road that was fortunately pretty empty at that time of night.

The ridiculous pace of Monday, when I finished my shopping at like 6 places, got my nails done, got Caetlin and myself ready for church, made it to church not too late, met my sister and family, held a wiggly, fidgety Caetlin who lost it in the communion procession because she wanted to be down and walking around, laughed and "Awwww" -ed at the children's pageant presented by toddlers (the herald angel stomped off to her parents in a most amusing fashion), went to dinner at TGI Friday's, where my happy baby girl made friends with everyone, especially the nice man who gave her a balloon. Then bringing her home and listening to the quiet of the house after she went to bed, and knowing that I had an hour's worth of wrapping to do. That was a little disheartening, but I also remember that I went to bed early and got 10 hours of sleep, aided by my adorable daughter who slept in a little on Christmas.

Then the quiet Christmas morning, where we opened presents and made off to my sister's for Christmas brunch and dinner. Caetlin bobbed along again, the food was fantastic, if ill-timed, since Caetlin missed her afternoon nap. There was an incident with a battery-operated candle-shaped lamp and a broken bulb that resulted in my daughter's blood and tears flowing, but no permanent damage. Her gifts from my sister's family were a big hit. We watched "A Christmas Story," which I managed to sleep through part of, and "Elf" which I felt guilty for watching while Bruce followed Caetlin around the non-babyproof house. The dogs and cats, the stairs that Caetlin persisted in climbing up with reckless disregard for gravity, the much needed rain that fell all day long, the crackle of the crust on the marshmallow fluff on top of the sweet potato casserole (if you use fluff instead of mini marshmallows it stays gooey on the inside and makes a fabulous crust on the top). The hurtful comment from my sister about my desire to lose a little weight that cast a pall on the rest of the otherwise wonderful day. I know she didn't mean anything hurtful by it, but I do know that she is showing a bit less sensitivity to me than I- and everyone- was required to show her when she was concerned about her weight. (Clearly it still stings.) Driving home in the dark, Caetlin "reading" her Curious George book in her car seat- she holds it right side up most times, and babbles as if she is reading and I find it adorable.

Dragging my ass back to work on Wednesday, to get ready for closing the three deals today, and for going on vacation next week. I imagine it will be something of a working vacation, as everyone else ramps back up at the start of the new year.

I know there is still a holiday to go- New Year's Eve, which I imagine I will spend with my family, my in-laws in Texas, and my husband and my hopefully sleeping daughter, and New Year's Day, which I hope to be spending watching football, specifically watching my Bulldogs show the country that they should have played for the championship, but also the other bowls as well. So those are memories I haven't made yet. But the holiday season is definitely drawing to a close.

These are my memories of it, good and bad. I can't coat the season with the sugar that it seems to want, but it is, and always will be, wonderful to know that I have family who love me, whom I love, family I'm not related to (I'm looking at you, my Jewish friends!) and family I've known literally all my life. Family who have come to be mine through luck, my wonderful husband, and through grace, my beautiful daughter.

So while my holiday wasn't exactly visions of sugarplums dancing in my head, neither was it my head not being screwed on quite right, my shoes being on too tight, or my heart being two sizes too small. Somewhere in between, I think. Isn't it that way for most of us?

Was That You?

I could swear I saw my old boyfriend coming out of the Arts Center MARTA station today when I was on my way in. He looked so much like him, except he was taller than I remember him, though my memory could just be playing tricks on me and making me remember him the same height as Bruce, since they are about the same build. If it was him, he's grown his hair back out and let it go all curly frizzy crazy. If it was him, he's put on weight.

If it was him, did he remember me? I looked straight into his eyes as we passed. I don't look that different, do I? I've changed my hair color and style, but not THAT much. I've put on some weight, but who hasn't? I still look like me, right? Would he recognize me if we passed on the street?

It's not unheard of that we might run into each other, I suppose. He moved to Atlanta after college, and started on a tech career right before the bottom dropped out of the tech industry. His Google trail grows cold after that, I'm afraid, though Yahoo people search had a listing for him in Atlanta last time I checked. No one I know from college is still in touch with him, I don't think.

After I saw pseudo-college boyfriend tonight, I went downstairs and stood by the track and ended up facing the wrong way, not looking down the track for my train. I realized I was looking up the stairs to see if he followed me back in. If he did, I didn't see him.

I wish I had a way of knowing he was all right. I hurt him badly, and he is a good person, and I wish I could have spared him that. It was right that we broke up- I went on to do all that I have done, have a ridiculously good marriage and a ridiculously sweet child whom I adore, and a ridiculously satisfying career at which I make a good living. In some parallel universe, several universes over, I stayed with him. What happened to me in that other universe? I can never know, but I'm happy not to find out. I just wish I could know what happened to him, and be satisfied that he's happy now. We did have some good times, after all.

There's no reason whatsoever that he would be, but Smashley (which [not real] name got broadcast all over Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport in an incident which my Alaskan friend may remember), if you're out there and happen to find this, know that I hope you're okay. I Google you every so often. I won't ever contact you, but if we run into each other in the MARTA station, don't be afraid to say hi, okay?

UPDATE: Found him! After a more fruitful than usual Google trolling, I've managed to confirm that he's now a grad student at Georgia Tech. Crazy!

Milestones (Growing Older)

Caetlin said her first sentence today, even though we are using a somewhat elastic definition of sentence here. It was at least 2 words strung together to make a complete thought. We were getting ready to walk out the door to work this morning, and Bruce was leading the dog toward the door so he could go potty. Caetlin, finished with her breakfast, toddled after, doing her adorable babbling. Then, at full volume and kind of out of nowhere, "BYE, DOG!"

At least three times, following after the dog as he went outside, "BYE, DOG!"

This feels noteworthy to me. Single words, I can comprehend, but the idea of my just-barely-16-month-old daughter speaking in sentences seems so foreign. Kind of the mental counterpart to my being freaked out by her having teeth as a symbol of her growing up. If she can speak in sentences, that means she's not a baby anymore. Not MY baby. Oh, who are we kidding, she's always going to be my baby! But not literally a baby, which makes me sad, even though she is so much fun and so much easier to deal with.

I guess I ponder these things as we start talking about having another child. I miss Caetlin's babyhood, and the time we spent with her just taking care of her and getting to know her. I want that back, but I know that's not what we'll get with a second baby, since it won't be just the three of us. I'm sure having a second is wonderful in so many different ways that I can't imagine right now, but it won't be the same, and that is some of what gives me pause. What I really want is to recreate that time with her, to get to know the new baby the way we got to know her. I don't know; maybe what I really want is her to be the baby she was again.

Because she's not anybody's baby, not physically, anymore.

Other developments:
New favorite game: saying, "No! No!" to which one of us will respond, "Yes! Yes!" Rinse, repeat.

She has so many teeth now that she looks more like she has gaps where teeth aren't, rather than having isolated teeth in the middle of gums. Relatedly, it's funny to her when she sticks her finger in my mouth and I bite on it gently. For some reason this cracks her up.

She's gotten very adept at getting around the "No standing, no crawling" rule in the bathtub, and has become very adroit at scooting around on her bottom with one knee on the tub floor and one foot behind her. Relatedly, her new favorite game is to stick her face (really just her chin) into the water and laugh like a maniac.

She loves the "Hurry, hurry, drive the fire truck" song that our good friends from California taught us. The last verse is "Slowly, slowly, back to the station," which she'll join in on, often chiming in on that verse throughout the song. Except all she knows is, "Slowly, slowly." So she sings, "slowly, slowly" all through the song.

She's a fan of Ingrid Michaelson's song "The Way I Am," which Mommy sings to her with a few modifications. Specifically, rather than, "Cause I love the way you call me baby," of course the lyric becomes "I love the way you call me Mommy." And, slightly more problematically, "I'd buy you Rogaine/When you start losing all your hair," becomes "I'll buy you product/when you start doing up your hair." It's pretty close, I'd say. Anyway, she seems to like it, my singing voice notwithstanding.

Anyway, she's growing up. I suppose I can't stop that.

For a late Christmas gift for those of you still doing your shopping (yeah, I might be shopping on Christmas eve this year, so sue me), this makes a great- if tear jerking- gift for a parent in your life, especially of a little girl.

Still Alive

So, the deal closed. Very successfully.

I'm still alive, and after a good night's sleep (though I still need more), feeling much more like something resembling human.

I didn't have to go to NY after all. The closing got pushed back one day to yesterday, and so everyone agreed that with the extra time, I could do my work just as easily here as I could there. And it all got done, albeit with little sleep on my part. While I always enjoy the city and adore my colleagues up there, I was so glad not to go this time. Sleeping in my own bed, even if I wasn't doing terribly much of that, was priceless.

Now I'm onto the business of closing the deals that are closing tomorrow, and working myself back into the rest of my life, meaning cleaning the house, getting to know my daughter again, buying Christmas presents, all the sundry things that just got put on hold because there was no time to do them.

Anyway, that's where I am. I was on the call that funded the deal yesterday, and I sent the email to allow my client's money go where it should, and I was buzzed for a good couple hours afterward. And then I left early to get some shopping done, and I hardly looked at my Blackberry all evening, and then I felt free.

Memories

I remember what this is like. The quiet of the office after everyone has gone home, the strange feeling of freedom that comes with knowing you could turn cartwheels and no one would know (except possibly the security guards, who come on my floor at about 11 and 2). If you're like me, you never turn cartwheels. I remember the utter loathing I acquire for the office, which is as cosy as I can make it, as a result of just being there too much. The empty streets driving home at all hours, not a soul around. I usually drive with the window down those nights, no matter the weather, because I'm in such need of fresh air, of bright colors that aren't filtered through glass, of some reminder of the world away from the fluorescent lights that never change, never wax and wane, never turn different colors depending on clouds or wind or season.

I remember the agony every night- can I stop yet? Feeling guilty and panicked about what remains undone, I can't stay awake any longer. Wake up, feeling like shit, 4 or fewer hours later thinking, "I should have gotten up earlier." I remember the shakiness, the upset tummy, the appetite suppression, the headache, that are caffeine side effects.

I remember all this from my previous employer, and it was why I left the firm, in part. Because at the time I was working that hard, I didn't have Caetlin, and it still sucked badly. Now it just makes me want to cry on a daily basis, because I don't see her for more than about 20 minutes a day. I haven't given her a bath in almost a week; only because I was irresponsible and came home for an hour and a half last night did I get to read to her for the first time this week. It's almost unbearable to not see her. I don't know how parents who don't or can't see their children manage it. It breaks my heart on a daily basis.

I have to go to NY tonight through Monday. I am hopeful that things will be a little slower so I can rest, and more importantly, have some Mommy-Daughter time when I get back.

It's hard to reconcile my desires though, because this deal is a big professional opportunity for me. I remember the crappy work schedule from my previous work, but I also remember the enormous satisfaction I get from my work, especially these kinds of deals. If I'm not careful, I will gain a reputation as the go-to person for short-notice no sleep kinds of deals and then I'm in the same boat. But part of me wants that reputation, wants people to see how hard core I am about work. I am totally conflicted.

Not about how much this sucks, mind. Not about that. Those memories have come back to me with a vengeance.

I miss my baby girl. and my husband

Wish me luck on our closing.

Some Small Comfort

I'm making myself late for getting ready for to work posting this, and I only have time to post these couple. But...

These are from Halloween, obviously, and her costume was too big for her. She's the cutest little dragon ever!

I'm posting this for myself, because God knows I'm not seeing much of the real thing lately.

Smooshed

So, see the time stamp on this post? Yeah, I'm juuuust getting home from work. At 3:30 on Monday morning. And I didn't get even half of what I needed to get done, done.

So, tomorrow (which starts in, oh, 4 hours) will be a busy day. And Tuesday will be busy too. Wednesday- still busy. See where I'm going with this? My kid is going to be heading off to college when I finally get to see her again for more than 20 minutes.

A very small part of this is my fault. I shouldn't have gone out of town this weekend. But in one huge sense it was worth it- it will probably be the last time I get any significant time to play until Christmas, possibly later. So I feel no guilt (okay, a little, I am Catholic after all).

So, the docs are out. No doubt my clients are sleeping warm in their beds and will awake refreshed and ready to turn them back far sooner than I want them to. I have my trusty to-do list all teed up in the middle of my excessively messy desk, ready to face the morning (shudder). Tomorrow is a long day, and while the sleep I will get would have been inadequate no matter what, I must make the most of it.

And so, to bed. Posting to resume (with photos!) as soon as I can manage to get 7 good hours of sleep. In a row.

Hey, a girl can dream, right?