All Over Alice

Alice Predicts The Future

I keep writing and erasing, writing and erasing. I was writing about my unabashed love for office supplies. I was writing about The Poo and his shit sleeping habits as of late. I was writing about the fact that I shouldn't be maintaining a blog that I don't maintain.

Whatever. I want to talk about underwear. I do, but I won't.

This kid is killing the I'm-in-control parenting method I was sure I'd adopt a few short years ago. I gave the kid my kid bed and got a grown up bed for myself. Turns out the kid likes the grown up bed and sneaks into it while I'm asleep, and sometimes while I'm awake. Turns out I'm the pansy parent of the century and can't stand up to a two year old. I'm sure you can figure out the rest. Let me tell you how it ends; The kid is nine years old and wets the bed, where the bed equals my bed and I'm still too much of a pansy to do anything about it. How did I become this?

Alice Goes To Market

If ever I learned a set of rules, guidelines, boundaries, anything at all pertaining to dating, I have very much failed to commit them to memory. I'm certain there must be unspoken expectations and etiquette that I am blindly waiving and consequently deeming myself undatable. This can't be good. In fact, this has to be bad.

It's as though Planet Unhappy jettisoned me from its atmosphere and I had a hard crash landing on Planet You-Are-Socially-And-Emotionally-Retarded. People, I don't know what is ok and what isn't. I don't when to talk and when to shut up, I don't even know when to stand and when to sit and when to, well, lie down. What I do know how to do is serve up a healthy dose of crazy and see if there are any takers. There are takers, if you're wondering.

I can't count with all my fingers and toes the number of people who have made the comment that I am now "back on the Market". As exciting as this may sound, let me tell you; it's not. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure if I'm actually in the Market or at the Market or on the Market or if this Market is even an actual place or just some silly hyperbole.

It has become clear that I was (am?) unprepared to date, if that's even what it's called these days. I'm worrying myself sick about whether or not I'm calling, thinking, missing, talking, ignoring, asking, seeing, doing - the list goes on - too much or too little. This is deep, muddy water people and I must be, have to be, drowning slowly. Soon I'll have gulped my last gulp and my lungs will be full and what then?

Alice Wraps 2008 Up Early Standing Side by Side With A Skunk and A Hot Dog

Well, folks, this is it. I'm done with 2008. It's been quite the year for me and I think I've had about enough for one year so I'd like to go ahead and bust out 2009 a little early.

Don't worry, I'm not one to make rash decisions, usually. I think things like this through before I drive them to a conclusion. And I do my very best to change my mind a good 1 or 12 times before I do anything for real anyway. So I've thought long and hard about ending this year early and then changed my mind and then thought some more and then written some draft proposals and emotionally driven letters on the pros and cons of this choice and I've decided it's for the best.

Yes, this means that 2009 will be an extra long year and that 2008 will be missing some key events - The Poo's 2nd birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas - to name a few. But The Poo won't remember his second birthday if I don't scrapbook it - he'll just think I was lazy (which I am). And Thanksgiving and Christmas are kind of a pain in the ass anyhow, with all the food, smiles, cards, decorations and the like. No big whoop, I can do without. On the bright side and by lack of sheer good timing, I'm ending 2008 during Halloween festivities where the Poo will be dressed as a skunk and what better way to end an era than all sweaty and tired and decked out as a smelly rodent with a Chihuahua dressed as a hot dog with mustard and your Mother at your side?

Now for the year in review...cheers!

2008: The Poo
Watching my son grow from 1 to 2 has been nothing short of unbelievable. So far this year The Poo has learned to walk and then to talk. He has found a healthy obsession with Fabreeze and the library. He has grown a full head of beautiful blonde hair and he has learned to say more with his undeniably gorgeous blue eyes than any person should ever be able to say without muttering a word. The Poo can throw a fit at the most inopportune times and then run into my arms looking for a cuddle just before I poke my eyes out with a fork - a skill I am hoping I can convince him to unlearn in 2009. Most importantly, The Poo has managed to stay enrolled at what is arguably the best out-of-home day care any child could get, despite his Mothers' constant nagging (gentle reminding!) to not feed him meat, let him drink cow's milk or ever come in contact with a television.

The Poo has doubled in age in 2008 - an event never to happen again in a single year of his life. He is almost 2 and I am almost 26 and together we have experienced an almost year of daily inflating unconditional love and for that I am declaring the 2008 year-of-The-Poo an absolute success.

2008: The Career
Another year, another lack of career. I'd like to talk about my career successes in 2008, except I'd have to actually get a career to do that. I don't have a career, I have a job and I do recognize the difference.

I've been fortunate enough to witness a plethora of co-workers, who are actually exercising their careers, have monumentous successes that are literally changing for the better the history of the State I reside in. So while I'd like to, one day, grow up and do something other than be someone else's assistant, I've been pretty knock-down-drag-out happy all the days of this particular year in my job. Thus, I'm declaring my lack-o-career-08 a success.

2008: The Dog
My 4 pound poop eating Chihuahua has acquired, in 2008, the following: A royal blue baseball cap with an Indy Racing League logo, 2 red strappy 1 1/2 inch Steve Madden heels with silver buckles, 2 MetLife stuffed Snoopys, one new bottle of puppy shampoo (yet to be opened) and a tennis ball.

He has acquired these items without ever having worked a day in his life and that, my friends, is a successful year if I ever knew one. He also happens to be the only living thing with boy parts (albeit not all of them) to sleep in my bed on a nightly basis - which in my mind is quite a lucky turn of events on his behalf.

2008: Home
I moved in June of 2008. I moved in August of 2007. I hope I do not move in the soon to be very extended 2009.

I am currently living in an apartment that I'm sure some of you would refuse to live in. It's tiny, I can hear my neighbors talking, my washer and dryer double as my counter space and my refrigerator is a medium size - so is my stove for that matter. My air conditioning comes out of a box in the wall and the place is so small my heating bills will be lucky to see $75 dollars in any given month.

I am happier in this apartment than I have ever been anywhere else. I have learned what home is really about. This is home to me and it feels like home to me and I now know the size and shape and modernness of your home doesn't mean shit. Of course I say that because this is where I am and this is what I have so there is no reason not to be happy about it. I'm sure someday I will no longer live in a shitty apartment but I'm really not in any hurry for that someday to get here.  I am happy to report that the realization that the comfort of home doesn't depend on the house is one of the best realizations of 2008. Another success.

2008: Heart
My 2008 heart has suffered some life altering blows. My 2008 Heart is scarred with wounds that absolutely nothing but time will mend.

My 2008 heart came up with the idea to end 2008 early and begin 2009 with an on-a-whim trip to New York and a reservation on a history changing election day at Le Bernardin which comes paired with a bottle of wine that my 2008-and-previous mouth will never have had the pleasure of knowing.

And after every last drop of that bottle is gone, my 2009 Heart will be ready to bid farewell to 2008 and gear up to fall in love with the idea of falling in love; A hopeful success.

2008: Mind
I am learning, without any doubt, that the mind is something that always always gets better with age. So thanks for everything, 2008.

2008: Adventures and Milestones
I suppose that as I think back, nothing but good memories come to mind so before I list them, I'm declaring yet another successful 2008 category.

There was the trip to Florida in April and now I know that sunscreen is an absolute necessity and thats all I have to say about that.

In May there was the decision to end a long relationship and the only shot at a traditional American family life I or my son would know. It has been six months, which isn't very long, but long enough to know that is was the right decision.

May also brought me Mirena - a 5 year birth control. Here's to renewing in 2013!

There was my first taste of true independence in June of which the outcome should speak for itself if you've read this far.

In July there was Dawn - a woman who has turned out to be one of my first true friends in adulthood - who was diagnosed with Stage 3 ovarian cancer at the age of 33. Following her through this experience has taught me even more that life is fragile and short and never deserving of the seriousness we place on the silly things that come along in it.

August brought  a trip to the West Coast where I met 4 amazing people, had a truly wonderful time with them and my son and was more tired than I've ever been in my life. I will be able to tell my son that he was in California, a place I had never been until I was well into my twenties, when he learned to say "no" and "light".

I took the best trip of the year to beautiful Charleston South Carolina in September, where I had time to lay by the pool, the ocean, to go to the spa, to take a carriage ride, to eat at Jestine's Kitchen and to really enjoy me. A trip I hope to repeat in 2009.

Later in September I went on a 6 hour horseback ride alone through the Wayne National Forrest and used all six of those hours to not say a word and to marvel at the wonders of nature. Something I should do more often.

October brings me to now. I began this month with a white water rafting trip in West Virginia which was more fun than anyone could write in words. The excitement and rush of fear coupled with the sensation of freezing water and cheeks that were permanently stuck in a smile is a combination of physical and emotional feelings that everyone should get to experience all at once. This was also where I learned that peeing in a wet suit is not the best of choices. In fact, there should be some sort of wet-suit guide you have to read before slipping into one.

I'm ending October and ending a year. A good year for so many reasons, but one that I am fully ready to part with and begin anew in New York on Monday....wish me luck friends.

Alice Is Learning

Once every four years, average folks decide to get out the political hammer and slam some nails into the coffin they won't open again for four more years to come.

I am learning a huge life lesson this time around - a lot of folks vote. They vote for who their Dad told them to, who their wife told them to, who their church told them to and they accept the reasons that "insert whoever here" told them to without much more thought.

I am learning what complacency is.

I am learning and I'm wondering if I maybe I should stop before my head explodes...

Few people are capable of expressing with equanimity opinions which differ from the prejudices of their social environment. Most people are even incapable of forming such opinions.

Alice Casts Her Vote.

There is a difference in politics and policy. Politics is standing up and saying what the people want to hear, it's playing the game that needs to be played to get to a place where you'll be playing more politics just to do your very damn best to get your policy realized.

The most simply put difference between the Democratic party and the Republican party is the extent to which the government is or is not involved in the politics of it's people. The fundamental differences between the parties come down to much more complex policies that support the aforementioned simply put difference.

I'm not a political expert by any means, nor am I well versed in all of the issues at hand in this Presidential election. What I am is a person who cares about the history and future of the country I live in. I care about the history because it has shaped what this country is today and I care about the future because I have a son who will grow up to inherit it.

When I think of which party I'd rather support, I think mostly of my son. I think about what type of person I hope he can become and the kind of values and tolerance I'd like to teach him. I would like my son to understand the difference between policy and politics. I'd like him to understand that the people who decide policy are the people who decide the politics that affect he and I as a family. Those policy makers are the people who shape the country he and I live in and therefore, shape the possibilities of his future. For this reason and possibly only this reason, I care who I vote for.

I care who I vote for because of my son, Toby.

I want my son to grow up understanding the luxuries his tax dollars afford him. (Or that my tax dollars afford him - for now!) I want him to understand what he is complaining about when he complains about paying taxes. I'd like him to think, just a little, before he ever gripes about paying more of his earned income to the Uncle Sam who built the highway he drives on, who mandated that car he's driving be safe, who employs the police officer that protects his home and the firefighter who puts out his fires.

I'd like my son to be compassionate for other human beings and the unfortunate cards that some of them are dealt. I'd like him to volunteer at the Salvation Army on holidays and realize that the sympathy he feels for the families who eat there is a sympathy he should feel every day of the year. More importantly it's a sympathy he should expect his fellow citizens and government officials feel along with him. I'd like my son to think of these less fortunate people and know that his tax dollars help pay for government funded programs that make a difference, a very honest difference, in these folks lives.I'd like him to be proud of that.

I'd like him to be the kind of guy who would be willing to do without a few of the luxuries his honest salary affords him and be willing to pay more tax dollars so that another human being who very much needs those programs can live without the added worry of whether or not they will exist next year.

I would be so proud to say my son was that caring of a person, so very proud.

I hope my son grows up understanding that he is a visitor on this Earth and that he has a responsibility to it. I'd like him to be responsible for his actions and be aware of the consequences his actions have to the Earth's environment. I want my son to care about that more than he cares about his big house or his nice car or his new shirt.

Alaska's Governor Sarah Palin said tonight that the climate crisis was only partly man made and partly cyclical.

I have very high hopes that my son will be part of a generation who will see that a person who tells them she believes in God - a God who created the Earth that she is so lucky to live on, but who cannot take accountability for the damage being done to God's most precious gift - is a person who is just not going to build the policies that shape their families "kitchen table" politics for the better.

I would be ecstatic if my son grows up knowing that the world is an ugly place. A place where a person who carries two vegetables that are categorized as male and female in the same bag will get his hand cut off by a dictator while other citizens watch and do nothing. This is a world where families are diseased because they are drinking from a mud puddle - their only water supply. I hope my son will be aware that there are women in this world with the same capability for thought and emotion as his Mama who are treated their entire lives as though they are worthless and insignificant and never, ever, afforded the opportunity to believe otherwise.

I'd like him to know these things because maybe then, it will be easier for him to be proud of a government that provides health care for every single child, each and every one. Maybe if he can remember the child whose mother isn't allowed to love him, or the child whose sister dies of a horrid disease at the age of 6, or the child whose father's hand was cut off for carrying the wrong vegetables in the same bag - maybe if he can remember that those kids are out there, he wouldn't be so damn angry at the thought of his hard work helping to subsidize health care for the family and children of his less fortunate neighbor here in this country.

I hope my son is patriotic. I hope his faith is concrete. I hope he carries a gun if he wants to and that any daughter he may have will have the right to a safe abortion if she so chose.

I hope my son never knows the heartache of living in a country that lacks diplomacy and dictates at the expense of it's people. I also hope my son is a good enough person to know that the people of those countries are often times victims and that we cannot fight for them all. That they are people just like he and I and that they have families and thoughts and feelings and desires and cultural and religious differences and those differences always have and always will exist. I hope he can recognize when he should stand up and be patriotic and serve his country in a war that is necessary so that he can someday write this same type of letter to his children. So that this country never becomes one like those he fights against. However, I hope he will know the difference between a war that is necessary and a war that is being fought out of fear or greed. I hope my son is never naive enough to turn his head and go about his life while his country fights an unnecessary war and kills people who he knows have families that are as important to them as I am to him.

I hope my son understands the difference between politics and policy. I hope he understands so that when he is faced with a decision just as I am now, he can make the right choice not only for himself, but also for the people who need him to care about them, too. So that he can recognize when someone is giving you politics so that they can carry out policy that will not make this country a more honest. compassionate, giving place to live.

There are legitimate positives about Republican policy, I would never deny that. I will say though, that I don't know how any parent could watch the two politicians I watched tonight and not question the politics that Sarah Palin is representing for her party and then not be frightened at the policy it is sure to bring for children across this country after the election is all said and done. There is a difference in politics and policy. I have been paying attention to the two major parties of this country while they fight for the highest office we offer and I have heard one party talk about policy, real policy. New policy that will be different than what we know now, and that is scary I know, but it is also necessary I know because I open my eyes and look around me each and every day. I hear the other party talk about politics and script their message to what most people would like to hear, would like to believe is possible, but if they stopped for a moment and really thought about it, they would realize that it is politics, not policy they are hearing and there is a difference.

I have hope, I really do. I have hope because without it - what would I be for my son? He deserves for me to hope these things for him, this hope is my responsibility as a parent. I will be putting my hope in Barack Obama on November 4th and I'll be doing it for you, kid.

Alice Babbles On and On Like This For Hours Sometimes.

I always have something to say, always. If you have a topic, I have an opinion. If you don't have a topic, not to worry, I'll get you one. Don't feel like talking? It's ok, I do, you can sit right on back and listen up. I can talk and talk and talk and you might wonder when I'm going to breathe - don't be silly, friends - I am breathing. Through my nose as to not interrupt myself.

Speaking of interrupting, I don't like to be interrupted. I don't mind interrupting you, but I'd prefer you don't interrupt me. I try not to interrupt you because I know it's rude. I don't interrupt to be rude, I interrupt because I have something to add and this moment, right this second actually, is the best time to make the point. Not when your finished. If I'm going to wait until your finished I might forget what I wanted to say or I might have thought of three other very important points and surely they can't all be as poignant if I'm going to wait on you to be done talking.

I'm telling you this because I've recently noticed something about myself. I interrupt a lot. And I give my unsolicited opinion even more than a lot. I'm kind of annoying, actually. I mean, I don't think I'm annoying, I think I'm smart and that I have a lot of good points to make and a lot of even gooder ideas to spew upon whomever is willing to take them in. I know gooder isn't a word, don't get judgmental.

Back to the self-realization, stop trying to interrupt me, please. (I'm talking to my brain, not you) It's mostly at work. I always think I know how to do it better. Whatever it is. There doesn't seem to be an end to my good ideas, they just keep coming and I don't seem to be able to hold back. I find myself talking and talking and talking and thinking and thinking and thinking.And twirling my hair. I twirl my hair a lot when I need something to do with my hands. I guess that's irrelevant, forget I said that.

I also find that people are staring. I think maybe they stop listening, I would like to think otherwise but I'm fairly realistic.

I hate those people who think they know it all. Now I'm one of those people. Not anymore. I'm going to start shutting up and see if the people stop staring. See, you guys are great for talking about this with. If your staring, I have no idea. I like you already. Is there anything you want me to talk about?

Alice's Little Boy: An Interesting Guy To Say The Least

Well, guys, here's the long and the short of it; The Poo is slow. What do I mean by slow? I mean the kid is lazy. He clearly has the potential to learn new words and walk faster than a dead slug, but is quite obviously not motivated by love, money or oatmeal cream pies.

My friend Ali's kid is 4 weeks younger than The Poo and could walk and talk circles around the poor guy. Not to mention beat the shit out of him with a fake Mack truck while he sits and stares with a confused daze on his face, not even entertaining the idea of defending himself. I'm telling you - these boys are practically the same age, yet one of them could get a job and support the other. It's fabulous, really.

Now, I know that children all grow and develop at their own rate because I read it in a book. I'm not worried about my kid and I'm certainly not looking for your reassurance that he's fine, either. I joined a mommy club to hear that kind of senseless bullshit. I'm just pointing out the fact that my kid, for whatever reason, has chosen to stand in the back of the room and watch the smart kids talk amongst themselves. While he wears a bunny costume, carries a purse and repeats one of the few words he's chosen to learn "buuuuh byeeyeyeye".

At home he plays with an empty soy milk carton and a cup - always, and I do mean always, pretending to pour himself a drink. And the few times he's not doing that, he's pretending to stir the water in the toilet bowl with a medicine dropper. I've offered him a whisk - but he's got a thing for the medicine dropper.

Given this information, I think he'll grow up to be a politician?

Alice Realizes That She's Madly In Love With Monday

Anyone who knew me-before-I-was-Alice knows; Upon return from a week long vacation in sunny Florida, I-before-I-was-Alice wrote a letter to my job asking them to never, never, never allow me to leave my desk again. And anyone who knows me for real knows; I wasn't kidding.

I just spent the longest Saturday ever with my toddler. Just to be crystal clear, I'm talking about my one singular toddler - not two or three kids, just one. Around, oh say 3 in the afternoon, I thought (outloud) to myself "Holy Hell. When is Monday?" While having this incredibly selfish thought, I happened to be in a place where you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a stay at home Mom and I suddenly realized - these women NEVER GET TO MONDAY!

I think ValueWit is right. The mothers who's children finally reach all-day school age and still don't go back to work are the smartest women on the planet. These women deserve to go back home and snuggle up on the couch with some Cheetos and call it a day at 8:47am, they really do. Lets hope they're smart enough to stash away a sizable chunk of their husbands money in case he leaves them with grown children and 15 years of no work experience for a woman half their age, too. I'm just saying.

All kidding aside, folks - stay at home Moms deserve a lot, lot, lot of credit. I know that women feel all kinds of different ways about whether or not they should or shouldn't stay home with their children in their pre-school years. For most women it isn't necessarily a matter of choice - they just have to do what works best and is most feesible financially. But let me be one to say - as a woman who's on the "by all means necessary, keep on working" side of the fence, if you spend your childrens pre-school years at home allowing them to suck the life out of ya - I sure hope your taking the first couple of all-day school years eating some well deserved bon bons.

Happy Monday Moms!

Savvy Young Adults Beat Alice To The Punch

When Polly first mentioned the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer she also mentioned the possibility of a discussion. Well, I'm not much for fiction these days but I'm really not much for passing up a discussion, either.

I can't lie - I am into discussing like it's going out of style and I'm into discussing anything! By god if the internet was going to discuss Twilight then so was I. Until I searched the title at my library's website and it returned my search with a young-adult book. W-w-whaaat? I barely read fiction, let alone young adult fiction! Shit. I reluctantly clicked the "request" button only to be astonished that 197 other people were in line before me. What is wrong with these young adults? Do they not have libraries at their schools? Whats more, why do these young adults know how to request library books on the internet? Do their parents not watch MSNBC Investigates for Christ sakes?!?!

And so I reminisced on my own young adult days; primarily spent at the pool, the Dairy Queen, riding my bike, humping a pillow in my bed - you know, that kind of thing. And that really had me thinking - just last week I went to the pool twice, the Dairy Queen three times, rode my bike everyday and humped my pillow, well, more times that I care to admit here. Young adult schmyoung adult! I'm going to Barnes and Noble and buying a copy of that book. And so I did, just like a big girl can do. Take that young adults - I have a car AND a library card AND the internet so shove it.

I read the first few chapters hoping it would suck me in and have me hooked, but no dice. And then the discussion started. Without me. First Polly reminded us that fiction has wings, duh!  Next Polly gave us a bit of a teaser to the story, likening it to Pride & Prejudice.  (Certainly not one of my favorites) This was where I entered and then left the discussion by commenting that I just didn't think a book with a vampire character was for me - and typically it wouldn't be. But Diosa went and reminded me that sometimes fiction can evoke a feeling, a response  that non-fiction story telling just can't and I've decided that this adult-young-adult is going to give the Twilight series another chance. After all, I like humping my pillow...