My request to work from home two days a week was approved.

Internet, let us all breathe a collective sigh of relief. I know you were worried about me.

Wednesdays and Fridays are now officially the days I work from home, i.e., the days I lounge around in jammies with a cute baby and a laptop and a much chirpier personality from not getting up at 6am and not being stuck in traffic for four hours. I.E. NOT SUCKY DAYS.

The best part of working from home:

Notice: lack of shoes! awesome baby! sunshine!

And—less than two minutes later—the worst part of working from home:

I think I am going to have to buy Ezra a laptop for his birthday.* I see no other possible solution to this.

*Speaking of his birthday: OH HOLY WTF?! ONE YEAR? WHAT? This cannot possibly be right! Somebody hold me.

Ok, guys, first things first: I got one of them facebook things … you know what this means, right? It means you have to go friend me. Or like me. Or whatever the kids are calling it. Because otherwise? I will feel like a big loser. This is like middle school all over again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Secondly: Do you or anyone you know need a new blog, a blog redesign, or any business cards or other graphics? Anyone? I’m taking on a few more clients at crazy affordable rates while I work on rebuilding my design portfolio and getting things all set up.

And third: There is no third. If you want to know how I’m doing these days, look here … it’s something like this:

We keep extra diapers and wipes and a change of clothes in the car at all times. We stock up on Plum Organics baby food and Happy Baby snack foods to make eating-on-the go convenient and painless. We have a baby who’s remarkably easy-going and happy (as long as no one’s trying make him sleep, of course) and can be entertained all day with nothing more than a set of car keys and someone’s face nearby to grab/smoosh/smack/talk to (with love!).
And yet, still—still!—it takes us about 12 hours of frantically running around the house to prepare to go anywhere for the day. We had been planning to go to the They Might Be Giants concert at Stern Grove for a while. The show started at 2 and we wanted to get there really early to get good seats. We started getting ready go at 9am. We arrived at Stern Grove at 1:30. Because of course.
So, we grabbed a section of uncovered grass somewhere waayyyy off to the side. I can not stress how far off the the side we were enough. I don’t even know if the spot we were at could technically be considered Stern Grove anymore. We’re talking out in the cuts. We’re talking boonies. We’re talking totally ridiculous!

But, whatever, baby didn’t care and I could at least see a glimpse of a vague man-shaped thing on a stage through the crowds of people and trees, so close enough, right? Ezra was enthralled with all the people and trees and grass. Two little girls were sitting close to use and he spent most of time flirting with them. And by ‘flirting’, I mean ‘laughing and yelling for attention”…his skills could use a little refinement before he hits adolescence.

Combined with Saturday’s adventure at the super crowded, expensive, and omg delicious SF Street Food Festival (no pictures! too busy EATING!), it’s been quite the weekend. We are exhausted, sunburned, and achy. An ice cream sandwich and then it’s off to bed—with fingers crossed that the baby sleeps through the night just this once.

1. bake brownies
2. eat a buffalo chicken sandwich
3. laugh at the people taking the stairs instead of the elevator
4. decide to sleep in instead of work out in the morning—every morning
5. finish the plate of homemade cookies from my mom so they don’t go bad
6. look up whoopie pie recipes online
7. eat approximately 1 lb of cheese while waiting for my otherwise healthy dinner to finish cooking
8. conclude that since a slice of avocado is good for you, eating a whole avocado must be amazing for you
9. eschew healthy packed lunch in favor of two slices of cake from a work meeting
10. eat a gross candy bar from a kid’s fundraiser because IT’S FOR THE KIDS.

A Cup of Jo linked to this which was taken here and makes me want to die because I’m not there.

What I really need is a wealthy benefactor to fund my leisurely world travels so that I can loll around in beautiful places and take pictures and drink martinis or whatever. Call me!

1. There is a not-too-small part of me that wishes I could move to Alabama and wear sundresses and drink sweet tea and call everyone ‘honey’ and bake lots of pies.
2. I’m a perfectionist, but the laziest perfectionist ever. I’d rather just not do something than have to actually, you know, try or work hard. In my twisted-up brain, effort is for suckers. If I could change anything about myself, I’d start there. (But you know, that seems hard. I’ll just sit here and eat some cake instead.)
3. I love everything about the ocean, but when I think about the deep, deep sea—even for just a few seconds—it fills me with extreme anxiety. It is too scary down there!
4. I go to Starbucks every single stupid day just so that I have an excuse to leave my cubicle. My waistline and my wallet are not happy with this AT ALL.
5. I watch Secret Life of the American Teenager. I don’t know why. I can’t even call it a guilty pleasure because there’s no pleasure involved whatsoever. It’s painful. I hate every single aspect of that show. And yet. There I go. Watching it every week.
6. Given unlimited money and support, I would want to have a huuuuge family. Like, Angelina-Jolie-huge. Like Cheaper-by-the-Dozen-huge. Like you-have-HOW-many-kids??? huge. Huge. Kids, everywhere!
7. My fantasy dream career? It changes at least every few weeks. I’m beyond jealous of people who have always known what they wanted to do.
8. The one exception? For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be Indiana Jones when I grow up. It was a sad day when I realized that studying archeology would not in fact guarantee a life of endless travel and adventure and intrigue (and, uh, womanizing?).
9. I subscribe to almost 400 blogs. This is the real reason I never get any work done. It’s a disease. I need help.
10. I want to be a stay-at-home/work-from-home mom in theory, but whenever I spend more than a day or two at home with kids (mine or otherwise) I get horribly antsy and frustrated and awful. I don’t have what it takes to be fully engaged with kids (or anyone, for that matter) on a 24/7 basis.
11. I feel really guilty about that even though I know I shouldn’t.
12. I read so many ‘the truth about motherhood!’ type of articles and blog entries and whatnot before I had Ezra that I was pretty much expecting everything to be completely terrible. I thought I would regret the c-section forever (I never even think about it), I wouldn’t bond with baby right away (I fell crazy, madly in love with him the first time I saw him), I would go through a horrible bout of PPD (I know I had some low moments, but I mostly remember being incredibly happy the few months after he was born), that Cris and I would drift apart and not be able to make time for each other anymore (I think we’re doing better than ever (just don’t ask me in the middle of the night when the baby is crying and he somehow sleeps right through it (jerk))), and that I would feel like I had ‘lost myself’ (I’m still here! Everything’s the same, but I get this cute baby now! Bonus!). I sometimes feel bad that things were so much easier for me that they were for many other women.
13. I think I used to be a good writer but either I’ve totally forgotten how or I’m going through an awful, years-long bout of writer’s block. Hence the lame posts and lists like this.
14. Uh, sorry?

I just finished creating a new weblog theme for the fabulous MommyNaniBooboo. It was a great project to work on and I’m really digging how it turned out. Go, check it out!

I’m slowly, oh-so-slowly!, working on rebuilding my web design business, but squishing time in between a full-time job and full-time teething, energy-filled, napless (but still completely adorable and amazing!) baby is, well, challenging to say the least. I still haven’t put the finishing touches (or, uh, even the starting touches, really), on my official website . I’m so very far behind where I wanted to be by this point—I was hoping to be able to do this full time by Ezra’s first birthday—but feeling (more) stressed-out isn’t going to do anyone any favors, so… it’s fine. I’ll get there when I get there, and until then, it’s fine. Look, there’s even a smiley face top prove my point: :)

After complaining to my mom about our Endless Sleepless Nights and the epic fog of sleep deprivation that is currently holding my brain hostage, she offered to pick Ezra up this Friday night and take care of him until Sunday so that we could have the weekend to ourselves. To party. And by ‘party’, I mean ‘nap’. And by ‘nap’, I mean ‘sleep for 36 hours straight’.

As much as I love my mom for offering, and as much as I realize how incredibly lucky I am that this is even an option for us, I hate hate hate the tailspin of self-doubt and confusion that offers like this throw me into. Do I want my mom to take Ezra for the weekend? On the one hand: NO YOU CAN’T HAVE MY BABY! He’s MINE! I will miss him so much if he’s gone all weekend! It’s the only time I get to spend with him besides fighting him for sleep every night! I want to snuggle with him and play with him and help him walk across the living room and chase the cats! I want to see his hilarious expressions when trying new foods and hear him babble away for hours! I want some sloppy, drooly open-mouth kisses and some sweet, sleepy hugs! I want to take pictures of him and go to the beach and have a baby dance party, darn it! Stay away from my baby!!!

Aaaand on the other hand: OMG YES PLEASE! Please! I will be able to sleep! And do laundry! And sleep! And finish all the work that has been piling up and finish watching season 2 of Veronica Mars and drop off all the crap that’s been accumulating in the ‘Drop Off at Goodwill!’ box corner of the living room! And sleep! OMG, did I mention sleep! Maybe we can have some people over for dinner! Maybe we can have some drinks! Maybe go see a movie! Maybe sleep more!

And on my third, mutant hand (and this is where things get really fun in my head): What kind of a selfish cow of mother would hand her child off to someone else for days just so she could sleep in?! Why would I mess up my baby’s already precarious sleep schedule for a chance to plop myself in front of the tv and eat cookies uninterrupted? How sad and horrible of me! My baby clearly deserves a better mother!!!

AND ON AND ON IT GOES.

I have no idea which of my many hands will be the winner come Friday, but I am already completely exhausted just thinking about it.

via the red thread