Balls – Some people have them
To Melissa, who wanted to know if I would add her blog site to my blog roll solely so she can start doing giveaways?
Let me think. Um, NO.
If you have a legitimate comment to leave here, please do so. Otherwise, take your shameless self promotion and shove it up your ass.
Internet, you’re on notice today.
Why My Future Grandchild has a Yellow Lump on Her Head
For a long time, Ava paid absolutely NO attention to television at all. Unless it was a commercial. Then she’d stop whatever she was doing and race to the television.
And then we had Elmo. I think she got her first real dose of him from watching the tail end of Sesame Street at her Gramma’s house. For months, she and Elmo carried on an intense love affair, during which she would try to hug the television in an effort to hug him. So we bought her an Elmo Pillow with Arms. So he could “hug her back”. She carried that pillow with her everywhere…for about 3 days. Then we purchased Elmo Live! Elmo sings, talks, tells stories, gets kicked in the head by mom and NEVER SHUTS UP. Even when he’s knocked over, he still talks. Again, the novelty wore off after a few weeks and now Elmo sits quietly in the corner of our family room, waiting for someone to turn him on again to be loved.
Because somewhere along the way, Ava discovered Caillou. If you are not familiar with Caillou, let me explain. Caillou is a bald, 4 year old boy with a sister named Rosie. He loves to whine, complain and be the boss of everything. For some reason, my daughter is completely and utterly enthralled. She dances to the theme song. She imitates any and all hand gestures and movements she sees. She laughs. She gets mad for him when he doesn’t get his way. She takes the tv remote and points it at the tv while looking at me and saying “Caillou”. We watch it every night before bed.
The other morning, I heard her stirring through the monitor. Usually we’re greeted first with some thumb sucking, then some deep breaths. Then usually a “Hi!” or “Dada!!” (which is D’s cue to get her morning cup of milk ready) But on this morning what we heard was a leetle different. “Hi! Caillou!!”…. “Caillou!!”
Very first thing in the morning and she’s already thinking of Caillou. Ok, so maybe this isn’t the match I would have made for her, but she’s clearly in love. And who am I to get in the way of love? So I did what any sensible parent would do. I went to a photograph morphing site so I could see what my future grandchild is going to look like:
She is clearly going to need some plastic surgery to fix that whole forehead thing. And a little help in the eyebrow dept. But I’m sure we’ll love her all the same.
Twenty Questions
So on Friday I asked you guys to submit your questions: What about me do you want to know? I got questions from three of you.
My dear friend Issa asked these:
1. If you won the lottery and could live anywhere in the world, where would you live and why?
This may seem like a cop out answer, but I would have to have at least 2 homes. One would need to be somewhere in England. I yearn for that country, and have never been. Is a lifelong dream to visit. Living there would be beyond awesome. My other home would have to be somewhere tropical. Where English is spoken. Because, um, hello, I have enough trouble with English. I don’t need the added burden of wondering if I just called someone a doddering jackass when all I really wanted was directions to the bathroom.
2. Absolute best gift you have ever gotten in your life?
Now, this is the point where I could totally wimp out and say “my daughter”. And lord knows she is a blessing and the best gift ever. BUT. A store bought, wrapped in ribbons and paper gift? A blue topaz ring that my dad gave me the Christmas before he died. I’d been pressing my nose against the jewelry counter at Walmart, admiring that ring for months. Up until then most of my jewelry was of the cheap, costume variety. That’s all we could afford. Somehow my parents scraped together enough money to buy me that ring. I still have it. Tucked away in my jewelry chest. Every once in a while, I take it out and wear it. Or just look at it. And I smile. One day it will be Ava’s. And I will share with her how wonderful her grandfather was.
3. Why in the world didn’t you tell me to not try and bake a German chocolate cake and go buy one???? >
Um, I was looking for something to make me laugh yesterday? 
4. Favorite food to make and also favorite food to order elsewhere?
I love to cook and bake. Baking is by far my favorite thing to do. I love making cakes, cupcakes, cookies, pies. I made two different kinds of cupcakes this weekend, simply because I wanted to try them both. Also? I don’t recommend doing that. It is very tiring.
My favorite food to order elsewhere? Pasta Carbonara. My favorite pasta dish EVER. If I were stranded on a desert island, yeah, this would be my dish. I have never made it at home, mostly due to the whole has eggs in it thing. I can put eggs in stuff and bake it. But something about the process of making that dish is just more than I can stomach. I can eat the hell out of it…as long as I don’t have to cook it.
From the lovely Cara:
5. left shoe or right shoe 1st?
Left. I have no idea why. I’m right handed. And frankly, I had never thought about it until asked. Now? I notice it all the damn time.
6. Any siblings?
Nope. My mom had a miscarriage about a year before I was conceived. When I was 3, my dad was diagnosed with the disease that eventually killed him, so at that point, bringing more mouths to feed into the world was not a good idea. One of my biggest regrets to this day is not having any siblings.
7. How old where you when you got your 1st kiss?
Hmm, I was 14? 15? I can’t really remember. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. The kiss was ok, but what happened afterward was not. I kinda blocked a lot of it out over the years.
8. how did you and D meet?
Believe it or not…online. Back in the summer of 1999 I bought my first computer. I was a big fan of the Food Network and at the time, Emeril Lagasse. I joined an email list (OMG, those are so archaic now). D was a member. We had lots of email discussions, ICQ (Go ask.com that if you’re under 30) {See, Ben, I did it!} phone chats. Met face to face in fall of 1999. The rest is history.
9. Will there be any more BabyCakes?
I hope so. I hated growing up an only child. And with me being one, and D only having one brother (who has no children, nor is likely to) I worry about what will happen when we are gone. I want her to have family around her. Plus? I really want another baby. I have so enjoyed this journey with Ava. I want to travel that road one more time before I retire.
10. Is that your natural hair color?
Yup. Including the gray ones that I pluck with tweezers whenever those little suckers appear. I did color my hair once or twice. Was too much upkeep for me.
11. Top or bottom?
Bottom. I’m afraid of heights. I stay away from the top floor of anything.
12. Would you ever get a boob job?
If money were no object? Yes I would. Not to make them bigger, but to reconstruct. Lift them up to where they are *supposed* to be.
13. Dunk your oreos or twist eat the frosting?
Dunk, baby. All the way. Until soft. Yuuuuummmm
14. Have you ever had braces?
Nope. My parents didn’t have dental insurance. I saw the dentist exactly once as a kid. So now you know why I have an overbite. 
15. What kind of car do you drive?
I have a 2007 Mercury Milan Premier that I ADORE. It’s metallic red and has black leather interior. On sunny days, I love opening up the sun roof, cranking up the stereo and driving. Its the first brand new car I purchased in over 10 years. I will drive it until the wheels fall off probably. Or I win the lottery and buy an Aston Martin.
Rebecca asks this:
16. You live in Oregon, right? I want to know about the field of mushrooms that is as large as a couple of football fields. I hear it’s the largest living organism in the whole wide world.
I am afraid I had to Google this one. Oh, dammit, I mean, Ask.com it. I’d never heard of it. Apparently in Eastern Oregon, there is a giant underground mushroom field, that stretches for about 3.5 miles. Researchers discovered it when they were investigating why a bunch of trees were dying off. It’s been growing for over 2000 years. Anybody got any garlic and butter?
Now, as I only got 16 questions, I feel obliged to fill in the gaps here myself with a few questions – just to get to that even twenty. Because I’m anal like that.
17. Why do birds poop on your car JUST after it’s washed?
Simple: Your clean SHINY car is much easier to see from way up there than a nice dull, dirty car. Plus? Birds are just assholes like that.
18. Why does traffic always seem to be moving at a snail’s pace when you are late or in a hurry?
Now I know you’re thinking these people are really just trying to piss you off and make you even later, but that’s not the case. These concerned citizens are really watching out for your safety. By slowing you down, they have reduced the likelihood that you will be in a speed -caused accident. However, there is a direct correlation between the actions of these drivers and the frequency of drive by shootings on freeways, so I think there might need to be further study on this issue.
19. Who decided what foods are appropriate for breakfast and what foods aren’t?
Ah, now we have come to the real mystery in life. Who is “they”? They say you should eat cereal, eggs, toast, waffles. I don’t know anyone named “they”. I don’t think I want to. Because “they” are way too bossy and strict. I don’t care for any of those so called “breakfast foods”. You’d probably be appalled at some of the things I’ve been known to eat at breakfast. But since I don’t take orders from “they”, I will continue to eat my peanut butter crackers, cupcakes, banana bread and any other thing that sounds good to me at 8 am in the freakin morning. So there. **hmmph**
20. Your blog title says this blog will be all about Avacakes. But you don’t always write about Avacakes. Aren’t you a fraud?
Well, fraud is a pretty harsh term. I prefer flim-flammer, personally. I’ll admit I don’t write about Ava as much as I thought I would when I started this blog. It’s not that I don’t adore her and want to gush about her every second. But I have discovered that writing is something I enjoy. I am able to process a lot of emotions and issues by writing them down. I write mainly for myself and I hope that someone reads my words and finds something in them they can relate to, or even something that helps. I do need to add more entertaining videos up in here, yo.
Friendship and the internet, what it all really means….yeah, here I go again.
This is the post where I call out my own hypocrisy and tell you why I went back to Twitter. Plus a small dissertation on friendship.
I was reading comments on a friend’s blog recently and the subject of Twitter was being discussed. Some folks were talking about paring down their follower list to make it more manageable, since it is physically impossible to keep up with the daily ramblings of 900+ people. I started thinking, what if I restored my account, and whittled away at my list so that I was only following/being followed by the few people I felt I had a real connection with. Use Twitter more as a giant instant messaging system so that I could chat with people all at one time. (I’m lazy and emails exhaust me. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE getting them, but I have a hard time returning emails sometimes.)
Great idea, right? Yeah, well, in it’s execution, not so much. I took a list of over 400 and pared it down to around 50. Manageable. Folks I really felt I had gotten to “know”, as much as you can through 140 characters. I removed some people I had never even had a discussion with. I removed some people I had spoken with. Immediately I get requests to add some people back. I hesitate. Not because of who they are. I simply cannot allow this thing to overtake my life again. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, truly I don’t. I am at a place in my life that has left me feeling overwhelmed very easily. If I start letting one person back in, then it’s another. Then another. Then another. I cannot really explain why this stresses me so much, but it does. I cannot allow things to snowball once more.
So if you are reading this, and are one of the folks who I removed, it’s not personal. Please do not take it as such. I’m having a hard time with this whole internet friendship thing right now, and I’m pulling myself in tight. Please try to understand.
Now on to my second rant of the day…..
What does it mean when you say you are a friend? In real life, it’s easier to define. It’s tangible. Concrete. Visible. You can hug a real life friend. Take them to dinner, a movie, shopping, hang out at their house. Listen. Sympathize. Empathize. Care.
With the internet, I think the word friend has gotten too casual. It’s tossed around too carelessly. Once again this week I’ve learned that lesson the hard way again. Someone I thought was a friend proved me wrong. Maybe it’s my fault for holding someone to my own standards. When I call someone a friend, even online, I mean it. It’s not just a word. Coming this way and need a place to crash? Call me, I’ll make up the spare room. Have a book you want to read and I have a copy? Send me your address, I’ll mail it out. Unable to get to a computer but really need to purchase something? I’ll do it, pay me back later. To me, that’s a friendship. Words backed up by deeds.
Questioning someone’s honesty publicly and then ignoring it like it never happened? That’s not a friend by any stretch or casual interpretation of the word.
Once again, I am hurt. Angry. Confused. I questioned whether my decision to return to Twitter was the right one. I came very close to leaving again. So tired of the drama. But in the end, I decided that I would not let this person have that much power over me. So, one more person removed from the follow list and life goes on. I want to chat and have fun. With my friends.
Helpless
That word describes a lot of how I’ve been feeling and what I’ve been dealing with lately.
I took a week vacation while my mom visited. The week following that my husband and I were both sick, and as a result, were off work another week. I was able to spend a lot of time with my daughter. The kind of time I haven’t had with her since she was born and I was on maternity leave.
Walking away from her that first Monday morning to go back to work was agonizing. Some of the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. I wanted so much to quit my job on the spot, grab Ava and head home. But I couldn’t. I can’t. We need my income. At some point, we may be in a position for that to happen, but not now. I’m helpless to change it.
When my mom was visiting, it became apparent for the first time that she is elderly. She’s no longer the active, healthy person I knew growing up. She’s getting old. Older. I’m helpless to change it.
My father -in – law is not very involved in Ava’s life. He sees her once a month, at most. He never calls to ask if we would like to come over, or ask if he and his wife can drop by to see us. I’m afraid she’s going to grow up not knowing him very well. I’m terrified of her asking me “Why doesn’t Grandpa ever come to see me?” I don’t want her to feel that kind of hurt. We’ve spoken to him about this before, but with little to no result. We’ve asked them to babysit a few times, but I am hesitant to ask anymore for fear they feel we are taking advantage of them. I don’t know what to do to fix the situation, and I feel helpless.
Many, many things are changing at work. Some good, some not. Mostly, not. Things that come under the guise of making things easier, but in reality, just create one giant clusterfuck. It takes more of my time and energy, and taxes my patience. I feel drained when I leave here. I am so mentally tired I don’t have much left to give to my family at the end of the day. I hate it, and I am helpless to change it.
The back to school commercials have begun on tv. I cannot watch one in particular. There is one with a mom helping her daughter get settled in at college and talking about how hard it will be not seeing her every day. I know my baby girl is only 14 months old, but I know that day is coming. Years off, yes, but just thinking about it now brings me to tears. Every day I see her assert a tiny bit more independence. She’s growing up. Intellectually I understand that this is a good thing. I want her to grow up to be and independent person, her own person. My head understands this. My heart does not. I am helpless to stop the relentless march of time.
I know all the cliches about taking control of your own destiny, your life is what YOU make of it, blah blah blah blah. Yeah, I get that. Maybe one day the epiphany will come that will change where I am. But for now, I feel stuck. I feel helpless.
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