Thanks for the cry, Alan Ball

Another day, another HBO series finale (can you tell we just switched from Direct TV to cable with on demand?). Seriously, the last ten minutes of "Six Feet Under" might just be the most perfect ending of a television series. Ever. I was obsessed with this show when it was on and bawled hysterically the first time I saw this finale and again just now. It's just so satisfying to see what happens to these beloved characters. For a montage about death, I found it pretty life affirming. Wouldn't it be great if every tv show, movie, book showed you the full character arc all the way through until their deaths? This show and this ending has stayed with me for years.

Every once in a while it's good to be reminded that you only have one life. This is the time to make the most of it. Not tomorrow, next week, or next year. I am guilty of always thinking that things "will be better when..." I've been trying to live more in the moment and appreciate all the beauty of now, however absurd and annoying it may be at times. Writing this post, six years after this show aired, knowing how much more love I have in my life makes me feel so very, very lucky.

This is clearly the week for oversharing about celebrity meetings--I met Chris Messina, the guy who played Ted, Claire's love, at a bar in Brooklyn the year after the finale. I recognized him from the show and we spent the next few hours chatting about the program, life in Los Angeles and stocking fetishes. So as to diffuse any potential flirtation, I told him straight up that I had just started dating someone. At the end of the night he asked me if I was going to marry this guy. Without any hesitation, I said yes. And I did, two and a half years later.

Now I want a cosmo

My husband is out of town and I am already watching "Sex and the City" on demand. I'm like a caricature of a bored housewife. This episode I'm on is from the last season, with Aleksandr Petrovsky, Miranda's wedding and Samantha's breast cancer. Not my favorite season, but it'll do. And, Carrie's hair is pretty, wavy awesomeness. As I watch this, it has just occurred to me that I am now frighteningly close to the age of these characters, at least much more so than when I initially enjoyed the series almost ten years ago.

Back then, I was in my early twenties, living in Manhattan-Los Angeles-Manhattan, spending four to five nights a week in bars/lounges/clubs. In almost four years, I've been to less than five clubs in San Francisco. My, how the mighty have fallen. This show, unrealistic though it was (exactly what kind of writer buys those shoes and lives in that apartment?), always makes me miss New York. New York and brunch. Brunches that lasted hours, dissecting dates, careers, travel plans, families. I wish I had that time again to chat with my girlfriends, children, husbands and geographic distance be damned.

Incidentally, I actually met Sarah Jessica Parker when I was in college. Unbeknownst to me, I was babysitting for her niece and nephew and almost squealed with delight when she opened the door. She was as sweet as pie and teeny, tiny. That same night, the family's dog gave birth in their bath tub. I had to call the parents back for an emergency delivery. I helped to whelp!

Dun dun dunna...

End of an era

You know it was a good wedding when you can hardly speak the next morning. When I was younger I used to love having a cold because I thought I sounded all sexy and hoarse like Demi Moore. In reality, it's more reminiscent of a frog. Then again, when I was really little I used to think it'd be cool to break my leg so I'd have to use crutches. This poor kid in my class, Howie, used to break at least one bone every year. Thinking of it now, I realize he probably had osteoporosis or some sort of bone disorder, but I was sooooo jealous of his casts and how he got to go down the stairs on his butt. Clearly, my issues go way back.

Anyway, we had a wonderful weekend at our friends' farm chic wedding in northern California, surrounded by love, sunshine and hay rides! Mr. Monk loved being a part of the festivities. So much so that he started cheering during the ceremony. Heeeeeeyyyyy!!!! Eeeeeeeeehhh! Hiiiiiiiiiii! He just wanted to express his joy for the happy couple. Thankfully, we sat on the aisle and made a quick break for it. There were loads of other babies around, which helped ease the burden (and shift the blame).

Although we had a few "were we out of our damn minds for not getting a sitter?" moments, for the most part, he slept. He slept during the cocktail hour. He slept through the dinner. He slept through hours of outdoor music and his parents dancing their asses off until 2 am. He even slept in a bowling alley the night before the wedding! How redneck is that? We parked him in the arcade section and rolled on for hours. He never made a peep despite the blaring house music, laser lights, oh and the soothing sounds of 8-16 pound plastic balls smashing into wooden pins all night long. Our next kid won't sleep at all, right?

As always after a wedding or any celebratory weekend, I feel a little sad today. There is something so magical about seeing a whole slew of friends (or family) in one place where nothing else exists but the need to have fun and share the love. Mr. Schneed and I realized on our way home that this was our last wedding. For now. We have a few more single friends, but no pending engagements/weddings. We are officially olden. After five years of spending every spring-fall going to at least five weddings (one year as many as 12!), this is just downright depressing. Time to start planning some reunions.

Off the wagon

So not only did I skip Insanity yesterday, but I also managed to consume a pie shake. Yes, pie + ice cream = pie shake. Chile pies + ice cream is an evil place. This is, mind you, after I consumed an entire plate of nachos at the parent resto, Green Chile Kitchen. When I fall, I fall hard.

I got a slice of country peach pie and a big ole scoop of Lemon Cookie ice cream. The very sweet server woman took about a million minutes to make it, as I suspect pie doesn't blend all that easily. When it was done, it was equal parts awesome and awful. I got about two inches of it down before I had to fold. My husband, ever the pinch hitter, stepped in to relieve me in my time of need. I feel a little nauseated just thinking about it. But, it hurts so good.

Let's see what kind of damage I can do at a good friend's wedding this weekend. Open. Bar.

Fake it till you make it

New adventures in mommyhood this week:

Nursing my husband off the bathroom floor after a vicious battle with food poisoning, only to then have to contend with my snotty mess of a baby after he caught a bad cold. Thankfully, both boys are on the mend. Perfect time for me to get sick.

Trying to check for a fever anally and orally. Not sure which was more unpleasant for the little guy. I may have to stick with the armpit even though it's basically as accurate as guessing the temperature.

Feeding my baby yogurt melts after he started enjoying food again post-cold. His face lit up with delight upon tasting the yogurty goodness. Those space food disks are bizarro.

Seeing my baby vomit after eating one too many yogurt melts (or puffs, or chicken, or berries, or any of the way too many things my baby shoved into his mouth yesterday). For the record, spit up is nowhere near the same thing as vomit. The poor boy was definitely confused and scared. And five minutes later, he wanted to eat again.

Watching Mr. Monk's luckily very hard head hit the wooden floor more times than I can count as he tried to a) stand, b) reach for the dog, c) pet the dog and d) shield his face from the dog's licks all at the same time.

Realizing that as much as I clean it, the high chair is always going to look pretty used and abused.

Finding the cutest little baby tuxedo for baby's first wedding this weekend. Now, where to find a muzzle for the ceremony?

Appreciating the fact that Mr. Monk's favorite new toy to destroy actually comes fairly cheap.

Happy World Breastfeeding Week!

Recently a pregnant friend of mine texted me, "my boobs just started leaking! Why didn't you tell me about this?" Ah, the glamorous life of a pregnant woman. While I didn't enjoy the pleasure of leaving circles on all my tops until after I gave birth, leaking some colostrum is just one of the many eccentricities of pregnancy. After all, you're growing a life inside of you for 9+ months. From scratch! Things are bound to get a little weird. I responded that at least now she knows the boobs are working and milk is a comin'.

In honor of the many friends of mine who are currently baking a baby, I decided to jot down a few things I never knew before I went and got knocked up:

Contraction (in)action--It's possible to have contractions for days on end and not be in labor. This happened to me. For weeks. Weeks! It's called Prodromal Labor and it pretty much sucks. It's a fairly common situation wherein you experience hours (or days, weeks) of regular contractions that are more painful and more consistent than your basic BH contractions. These contractions (which are sometimes known as the beginnings of early labor, or pre-labor) supposedly help prepare your body for active labor, so they aren’t totally in vain. Pretty much like a really long, annoying warm up routine.

Drip dry--Your amniotic fluid doesn't always "break" sometimes it's more like a slow leak. For me, it felt like I was peeing after I was done peeing. This was actually far more pleasant than having it gush out of me on an elevator (my biggest fear), but can be a bit scary as some women leak without even realizing it. Luckily, the amount of amniotic fluid can be measured by an ultrasound so the doctor will be able to determine if there is any danger.

Pee phobia--Speaking of peeing, going number one after giving birth is nearly as scary as pushing out the baby. A nurse, a squirt water bottle, a mess of blood and a giant maxi pad will be involved. At least you get softeners for going number 2. After the first time with each, the pain is (mostly) gone.

There will be blood--The bleeding, unfortunately, sticks around for a while. Some women experience lochia, post-partum shedding of all that extra blood, for up to six weeks. But, you don't have to wear the huge uncomfortable pads the whole time, as the bleeding gets lighter over time and may stop and start.

Sleep, baby, sleep--Once the baby starts gaining weight, you don't have to feed him/her every three hours. If you are lucky enough to have a good sleeper and a good eater, you may gaze lovingly your sleeping beauty but do not touch, poke, prod or otherwise wake the baby. And get yourself to sleep, stat. I was all set to get mine on a set feeding schedule (yeah, right) when I took him home from the hospital. That is, until the doctor at my first visit laughed at me and reminded me "never to wake a sleeping baby."

PP PD--Your period could start again while you are nursing. And, you CAN get pregnant while nursing full time even before your period starts. I've met a few too many babies less than 18 months apart to believe they were all on purpose. Your body will likely take a few months to regulate itself with all the hormonal changes so unless you want some Irish twins, use protection.

Get In My Belly--You will be hungrier and thirstier than ever before when breastfeeding. I never had any food cravings when pregnant (which actually freaked me out at times) but I couldn't get the food down my throat fast enough when I first started nursing my little vampire. Cookies, cakes, muffins, anything baked had to be consumed by the fistful. It calmed down after the first month or two, but I still need to drink almost a gallon of water per day. I am thirsty all the damn time. And, I pee all the damn time.

Hearing things--Some time after you get used to the sound of your baby's cry, you start hearing it. All. The. Time. This phantom cry was the freakiest thing for me in the first few weeks. I would hear him crying in my dreams, in the shower, sometimes even when I was out of the house. I guess it has something to do with being hypersensitive to the sound in case you need to rescue the baby from a massive blowout poop or an alien invasion.


But, of course, nothing can really prepare you for that magical moment when that baby is pushed, pulled or lifted into this world. Good luck, ladies, and remember to take the disposable underwear!

I still see this face all the time

Gin and juice

On my good pal Marcie's reco, the Mr. and I watched this movie the other night. It tells the story of a man who discovered the power of juicing and lost about 90 pounds and one skin disorder along the way. Basically, this Australian dude travels around the US professing the benefits of a juice fast, drinking only 3 vegetable and fruit juices a day for either a 10 day reboot or 60 day life-changer.

We're big smoothie makers but were intrigued by the whole juicing method of getting at the micronutrients more efficiently because all the fiber is excluded. And, you don't have to peel anything! While we do eat a lot of vegetables, juicing is one way to get many, many servings in at once and just drink your way to good health. Or so the movie and the now buff and thin Aussie says.

The day after watching the film we went to the Marin farmer's market, which offers up some serious produce porn (very expensive, organic porn).







And the flowers were two for one!


Guess who loved the market most of all?


On our way back into the city from Marin, Mr. Schneed got all kinds of excited and wanted to stop and pick up a juicer at the local BBB. Between this and Insanity, I think I need to keep my husband away from infomercials. I guess he was feeling inspired by the movie and the absurd amounts of kale we just purchased. Surprisingly, the store had no juicers in stock and neither did any of the other stores that we visited yesterday. The juicer quest was on! Who knew there was such a run on these machines? Is everyone juicing?

Mr. Schneed found one this evening. Our life as juiceheads has begun. We'll see how many times we use it before it somehow finds its way into our cabinet with the rest of the abandoned appliances (anyone want a waffle maker?) Cheers!