Birthdays and Weddings

This was a weekend for celebrating! On Friday night I took Bryan to a local men’s spa for a pedicure and massage as a gift for his birthday. It was a well-deserved respite from the stress of his work and all his efforts to keep our household afloat. He was so relaxed after the experience that he was a little heavy-lidded at dinner, and by the time we reached the car he was a drunken slur of words, incapable of telling me where the parking voucher was. Imagine trying to talk with your mouth full of cotton balls and your tongue numbed with Novocain – that’s what Bryan sounded like by the end of the night, and I gave him such a hard time over it that we both erupted into smoker-cough-sounding, pee-inducing laughter.

Laughing with your husband is great therapy.

Happy Birthday, Bryan! And don’t worry, 37 is the new 29.

Then on Saturday we attended what Robert Scoble is calling the Geek Wedding of the Decade – the union of Chris and Ponzi. Ironically, I was invited because Ponzi and I became friends through the Diva’s Book Club, but Bryan knew most of the people there because he actually works in the tech industry.

JenAs I make my way around the tech circuit, though – both on my own at Blogher and Mindcamp, and with Bryan when I accompany him to events and dinners – I am running across the same familiar and friendly faces. It was fun to catch up with Nancy again, and Liz (formerly a Diva before returning to NY), and Julie (who looked AMAZING), and Matt (who I met at a Gnomedex dinner and he introduced me to the last.fm feed you see in my sidebar), and Cathia, and Kim(a Diva who I first met at the Naked Conversations book release party when she told me she was studying Computational Genetics and I thought to myself, ‘that is a far cry from the day I spent finger painting’), and Beth Grigg (who has hosted our family for dinner in her home), and Maryam, who first introduced me to the wonderful Divas.

The music was beautiful, the dresses and flowers were beautiful, the ceremony was beautiful, and of course the bride was stunning. I especially enjoyed experiencing Chris’ family – they are people who know how to have fun and you can tell they are close. With family like that supporting you, a marriage can only grow stronger.

During a point of transition, as we walked down the hall from dinner to dancing, my feet slipped out from under me on the highly waxed floor and I ended up on my ass with a twisted ankle. Chris happened to be there when it happened and offered to get some ice for my ankle, and I said, “No, my ankle is fine. It’s my pride that’s a little hurt at the moment.” And he instantly flopped down to the floor next to me. The groom! What a guy – how could I wallow in self-pity after such kindness?

Congratulations to Chris and Ponzi – may you have many years of laughing until you pee!

Here is the link to the pirillowedding tag on flickr. Here are mine specifically.

Things I Enjoy

I feel like this blog has reflected the darker side of my life lately, as I have used it as a way to process through some difficult thought patterns. To the outsider (read: those who do not know me outside of what I blog) it may seem worse than it actually is. Because of my Recovery process I’ve been unusually introspective, as most Recovery programs unravel things in that way if one truly dives in. I know I’ve said this before, but my writing is pretty boring or non existent when things are going well, or when good things are happening. These things don’t need flushing out, or interpreting, or dissecting. They just Are, like fresh air or a sunny day.

Bryan gets on me about that. When he does something nice for me he says, “Are you going to blog that?” It’s tongue in cheek, but it’s also his way of reminding me to reflect on the good times – in writing, so they can be remembered. Because if we are fighting it’s easy to forget that we really do love each other and have a lot of fun.

Many years ago when I was going through a period of depression (though I didn’t know it at the time; only recently have I come to realize this), my best friend and room mate, who is very visual, helped me map out the peeks and valleys of my life.

On a timeline she drew with crayons, blue lines were difficult times and yellow lines were good times. On the linear trail there were often peeks and valleys. For instance, during a blue-line period there may have been yellow-peek events, and during yellow-line periods there may have been blue-valley events. Seeing my life in the perspective of color-code was encouraging during a time when I could see nothing but blue.

As of late my life has felt like a blue line, but there have definitely been many yellow-peek events along the way. In the droning on of my woes, I don’t want to lose sight of those things that have brought me joy.

Good Times
For one thing, Seattle experienced a beautiful Indian Summer, well into October. The sun and the warm temperatures provided many opportunities to play with my kids at the park, get my fall pruning done, and take walks with my family after dinner. This is my favorite time of the year and I am taking full advantage of it.

Good Imagination
I’ve been enjoying the budding imagination of my daughter. She loves to play rescue, taking turns as to who is in trouble and who does the rescuing. She’ll dangle from the slide in our back yard, her toes only inches from the ground, and cry out with exaggerated drama, “Help me! Help me!” When her friends don’t understand (or care!), she’ll stop suddenly and say, “Noah, you have to come rescue me.”

The other evening while eating a gourmet meal of Wendy’s chicken nuggets, Ruthie stacked three on top of each other like a tower, then tipped her empty cup over and covered them up. “Ladies and gentleman,” she said in her best announcer-voice, waving her hands frantically around the cup, “you will now guess which cup these chicken pieces are hiding under…” and on she went with her magic trick.

I was flabbergasted that seemingly over night my toddler has turned into a real person who pretends that all the world is her stage. I am proud of her imagination, and pray that I never do anything to squelch it.

Good Humor
The other day I took my friend’s ten year old son with me to the dog park while Ruthie was in preschool. He has a very mature sense of humor, and I was looking forward to my day with him. While sitting at a stop light and the car was quiet with my own contemplation, one of those double dump trucks passed by, the ones with the long metal rod that connects them. After it drove past, Tony deadpanned, “Sometimes I wonder, why are they so long?” Maybe you had to be there. Or maybe you have to know Tony. But his timing and tone of voice were beautifully funny, and he made me laugh.

Good Music
This has been Year of the Concert for the Zugs. We have seen Over the Rhine, The Mountain Goats, Matisyahu (me only), Bruce Cockburn, Paul Simon, and Sufjan Stevens. I’m sure there’s more, but I feel so decadent just naming these. I have come to love discovering new music that inspires me or helps me cope. I made a ‘mix tape’ of songs I listen to when I miss Gordy, and one for road trips, and I’m about to make one for worship. It’s exciting to see someone perform live, because they are who they are. Most of the music I love now was introduced to me by Bryan. You might say he rescued me from the mediocre Christian pop culture.

Good Friends
I am surrounded by people who ‘get me,’ and who have history with me. As I’ve been meeting other mothers at preschool and at the park, I am realizing how isolated the average mother feels. I am blessed with many friends who are in the same stage as myself who understand the trials of raising small children. And because we help each other out, I rarely pay for babysitting. I came across a quote once by Shakespeare, “I am wealthy in my friends.” I feel I am the wealthiest of them all.

Good Husband
He may not believe me what I say this, but I really do like Bryan. It’s because of him that I write, that I have more confidence in my art, and that I appreciate good music and good movies. He knows how to have a good time, and most of our evenings are filled with wine, and loud music, and dancing. We dance while making dinner. We enjoy our life in ways that many married couples forget about. He has continued to ‘woo’ me even after we’re married.

Things are looking up. I feel as if I’m climbing out of a hole. After yesterday’s initial disappointment, I did manage to have a good afternoon in spite of myself. I wrote an essay while the kids napped, we went to the park, and we walked to the store. I was bitter at first, but after writing about it and getting over it, I actually had a great evening. Cari is right, I am slowly breaking free of my vices. And it feels good to feel like I’m starting to deal with life in a healthy way.

I am. so. bored.

Bryan had an extra trip to take this weekend to a conference he’s speaking at, so I have an extended time alone with the kids. I don’t usually complain about his travel schedule because, truth be told, the kids and I keep so busy while he’s gone that the time goes quickly. But when these extra trips come during the weekends, I go a little insane.

We were well occupied all day today until after naps. By then I was so burned out I didn’t have the energy to think of anything interesting to do, like going to the park or playing a game. So we ended up watching two movies in a row.

I. am. a terrible mother.

I thought watching a movie would buy me some time to read a book or surf the internet. But no. Ruthie will no longer allow me to do these things, even if I am sitting right next to her while she is watching the movie. I must put everything down and watch it with her. Do you KNOW how many times I have watched her movies?

Argh. My brain is turning to mush. I can only imagine what hers is turning into.

How Quickly the Heroes Fall

I’m 600 words into a long and rambling essay with no point about birth control making me feel pregnant, and I have writer’s block. So I’ll procrastinate and tell you what a bastard my husband is.

I’ve been checking out that new Sunday night show “Brothers and Sisters.” And last night, right as the black sheep son is approaching the suspicious blond woman he saw in his father’s office, Bryan decides to start messing with the cables behind the t.v. and both the sound and the picture goes out.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” I scream.

“Sorry.”

Picture comes on.

Picture goes out.

In between I heard black-sheep son ask, “How long?” and suspicious blond woman answer, “Long enough.”

“STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I’M WATCHING A FRICKIN SHOW HERE!”

Picture comes on as the son is walking back to his car and the scene ends.

Sonofabitch.

So could somebody please fill me in on that scene?

Surprise Revealed

It’s been a quiet, cozy weekend – just me and my little family. The last two weeks have been crazy, and Bryan has an extra week of travel this month, so I drew my little family in close to me this weekend and turned off the computer.

On Friday Bryan revealed his Big Birthday Surprise, and I have to confess that I am impressed by his ability to juggle all the variables. I was CONVINCED Friday was not the day since we already had so much going on, which of course made me even MORE surprised.

We had dinner at a Queen Anne restaurant called The Melting Pot. I didn’t know fondue could be so swanky. Bryan had called ahead for reservations, so we had a cozy little table for two on the second level in the back. Alone. We ordered a bottle of wine and talked as we ate the different courses – first the cheese fondue with bread and fruit, then a salad, then a vegetable broth fondue with meats and vegetables. We had pieces of lobster, and steak, and pork, and chicken, and prawns – OH MY!

We topped off the meal with a milk chocolate and Bailey’s fondue with cheesecake, brownies, strawberries, and pound cake to dip. I also had my first Port Wine – very tasty.

It really was an elegant affair, lasting two hours or more. It could have ended there, but no. There was more. After dinner we walked over to Seattle Center to see Paul Simon in concert. I nearly died.

Thank you for a great time, husband. I love you.

(I have pictures of the whole evening – the dinner, the concert, everything. But my camera’s memory card is not letting them go. Hopefully I can get it working, because I also have the cutest pictures of Ruthie helping me bake pear bread.)

Help! I’m Being Kidnapped!

Sonsabitches! All of you who keep secrets from me are sonsabitches!

Bryan’s been bragging about a big surprise event he’s whisking me away to for my birthday (I know! Again with the birthday talk…) but he wouldn’t even tell me when it was happening so I could plan around it. This afternoon he told me to be dressed and ready to go by 4:15.

“But we have an appointment at 3:15. We’ll never be back in time.”

“I rescheduled it.”

“But what about Jenny? She was watching our kids.”

“I IM’d her this morning and canceled.”

“But what about J & C? We’re supposed to watch their kids tonight.”

“They found other arrangements weeks ago.”

SONSABITCHES! ALL OF YOU!

Okay. For real, I’m actually very excited and curious. I know nothing, other than I am to be REALLY dressed up. And that we got into a small argument about what a dressy shoe is. Can I hear from my ladies that big, brown, clunky shoes with a big, thick, chunky sole and no heal is NOT considered a VERY DRESSY SHOE???

I have 15 minutes left to get ready for my surprise, so I’ll let you know what happens later!

Birthday Poem

Coffee Mug from a PoetEvery once in awhile Bryan puts on the Woo, as we call it around here, and sweeps me off my feet. On the actual day of my birthday, Bryan was working in San Jose, but he flew home late that night. He set a gift on the bed for me, and at first glance it looked like your average coffee travel mug. But it was actually a create-your-own type thing, which he used as a template for this painting and poem. The image is a painting he did on his tablet pc using the art rage program, tracing this picture of Ruthie I took at the ocean in April. He wrote the poem to the right (click on the picture to get a larger view).

Spy Man

Bryan reads my email. He has always read my email. My laptop sits at the entrance to the kitchen so it’s easy to take a quick gander as you walk by. This hasn’t always bothered me, but lately I fume every time I catch him doing it. He walks upstairs from his basement office, stops to read what’s new on my computer, then pours himself a cup of coffee and heads back downstairs.

It downright makes my pissy, and I don’t know why.

It’s not like I have anything to hide – I’m not corresponding with a secret lover or trying to plan a surprise party. I don’t mind what he sees, and half the time he comes across information I’d forgotten to tell him anyway.

I think I just want some fucking privacy, is that so much to ask? I can’t eat my breakfast without someone wanting a bite, I can’t pee without an audience of toddlers, and the other day Bryan barged into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth.

BRUSHING MY TEETH!

I know, not a terribly private thing to be doing, but I AM NEVER ALONE.

Maybe it’s because he’s home all day now so it’s just a matter of increased frequency, but MAN I almost bitched him up one side and down the other today.

He made up for it later when did all the prep work for our House of Barbeque night. I love that man.

I Still Have What it Takes

A couple weeks ago Bryan and I saw Bruce Cockburn play at the Moore Theater in Downtown Seattle. I praise the good Lord in heaven that our seats were assigned, because whenever we see a show that only offers general admission tickets, the Earth must stop spinning if Bryan cannot spend an entire day waiting on the sidewalk outside the venue doors.

When U2 came around last year, I was only four weeks postpartum with Thomas. I actually refused to go with Bryan because I knew he would camp out all day to try and get inside the U2 Circle of Love, and I just wasn’t having it. I had a BABY to breastfeed for crying out loud, and I was still… recovering, if you know what I mean.

We actually bought tickets for separate shows and each brought a friend so I could sit in the nosebleed section, trying to stay awake and keep my boobs from leaking.

As irritated as I am by this behavior, his tireless obsession usually pays off. Like the time we waited outside Portland’s Rose Garden all day even though I was in my first trimester with Ruthie and eating nothing but saltine crackers. We got wristbands for that show and I was so close to The Boss his sweat was hitting me.

We also get the best seats EVER at movie theaters because we get there a half hour early. I feel like such a nerd. I complain the entire time we’re sitting there. I complain the entire ride to the theater. I complain as we leave dinner earlier than I want to. But when people can’t find seats five minutes before the movie starts, I’m not complaining.

It’s a ritual. Our dates would not be the same without it.

So I was grateful for assigned seats at Bruce Cockburn because it meant we could just drive there and sit down before the show started like regular people. And when we happened to get there early, we walked down to Starbuck’s at Pike Place Market to fuel us for the evening.

As we were leaving Starbuck’s, a tourist family stopped and asked me where a good place was to eat. I gave them a few suggestions, swayed them off a few of their ideas, and off they went.

I cannot tell you what a good mood that put me in! I’M STILL A CITY GIRL!

For years I lived on Queen Anne and walked UNDERNEATH THE SPACE NEEDLE to Belltown for work everyday, It was a dream life. Even when Bryan and I were married we lived in a tiny apartment a block from the Seattle Center. I got asked for directions by tourists all the time, BECAUSE IT WAS OBVIOUS I WAS A CITY GIRL.

I do miss those days. Back when I was naïve to Seattle housing costs, I swore an oath to myself that I would raise my children in the city, but when it came time to buy we couldn’t make it happen.

I love my house. We bought it because it’s in the middle of an urban center, even though that urban center is in the suburbs. But we get most of what we wanted out of urban living, which is walkable access to almost everything we need. What I miss most about the city is the funk. The most popular breakfast spot here dons white lacey doilies over their light fixtures, white lacey curtains, and mauve décor.

Not funky. Not hip.

But it’s getting there. We have The Red House, and The Met, and rumor has it a Trader Joe’s is moving in soon. But the likelihood of seeing any tourists down here is pretty slim, so I won’t be getting asked for directions.

By the way, seeing Bruce Cockburn live is the exact opposite experience of seeing Pierce Pettis live. You already know how Pierce rambles, but Bruce is so quiet during his shows it’s almost like you’re sitting in on a recording session. He’s very introverted.

However, this allows for some very odd and entertaining banter by the audience. I’ve seen Bruce play twice, now, and I’ve never experienced a more eccentric audience. People take his silence between songs as an opportunity to shout things at him, like song requests, or phone numbers, or pleas to never stop playing.

But nobody asked him for directions.

What is it With Men and Poop?

Have you noticed that every time a man needs to take a crap he brings some sort of leisurely reading with him? What is with that? For the longest time I actually wondered if there was something wrong with me because when I go I’m in and I’m out – no time for the newspaper.

I think a man’s bowels are built differently than a woman’s, and when men are babies, those bowels are much too powerful for their little bodies to handle. Thomas has been waking up from his naps with record breaking, monkey flinging, death defying diaper blow-outs lately – the kind that require me to strip the kid down IN HIS CRIB, then wrap up the foulness into his sheet to be laundered.

It’s getting so bad that today as I chopped green onions in the kitchen and Bryan went upstairs to get him, I smelled the odor of poop wafting down the stairs to my nose. (Mind you, that poop odor has to make a right, a left, and a hairpin turn on the landing). The other day during his nap Thomas’ poop oozed up his back, and as he played quietly in his crib he stood and backed up against every inch of every side of his crib walls.

THAT was fun to clean.

Thomas also poops in the bathtub two out of three times and I find his huge floaty logs next to the swimming Dora. And when I say huge I’m not exaggerating. Bryan saw the floating poop once and his eyes lit up and he was all, “Nice poop, Thomas! That’s man sized! Gimme some knucks!”

So if you are reading this while drinking your morning coffee, I apologize. I should have warned you.

Welcome BACK to the House of Barbeque

New Outdoor Lights We had another BBQ last night, which gave me the opportunity to show off my new patio lights (75% off at Cost Plus!). Their soft glow after dark made the deck look so warm and cozy I just couldn’t go to bed.

It was an impromptu BBQ, having called a few friends around 3pm yesterday after Bryan came home with steak steak and too much steak for two people to eat. I love it when he runs out to the electronics store, and comes back with steak and veggies. And even better, I love it when HE spends the afternoon chopping, marinating, and otherwise prepping for dinner while I sit in the shade with a friend watching Thomas eat sand.

This afternoon I noticed that he’s emptied the dishwasher the last three times it’s been clean. And as I write this he’s putting together the last of our Ikea bookshelves that have been sitting in their boxes in my living room for two months. Earlier today, when I told him I was frustrated by the tone of how he said something, he stopped, HEARD me, and said he was sorry for being confrontative.

My friend keeps asking for a Q-Tip swab of his DNA so she can clone one for herself.