day log

I am trying to figure out where my time goes so I'm going to start keeping a log for a little while. I won't publish every one of them as to not bore you to death but here is my first one...so that you can observe with me how time is just seeping through my hands (is that English?):
7.40am
Maia wakes me up with request for TV.
I convince her to lay down with me for a few minutes.
7.50am
Maia makes me get up with justification that "the sun is out" (i.e. she has a right to be up and about).
8.00am
Nayla wakes up
8.00am-9am
make breakfast for the kids.
Nayla throws Maia's cereal on the floor.
I pick it all up and put her in the highchair to eat.
Nayla eats a bit while I warm up milk; then she flings her own cereal bowl off her tray.
I clean mess. Up-close to the floor, realize how desperately the carpet needs to see a vacuum.
pull out vacuum for a few minutes.
Nayla needs diaper change.
Maia wants more cheese cut into her cereal (yes, cheese).
On the way to kids' room to get Maia's clothes, pick up toys, clothes, books, and potential choking hazards.
I let baby loose and go brush my teeth.
Phone rings. Can I take Luca to school? No problem.
I get semi-dressed. Maia and Nayla start fighting. I go Streit-Schlichten (I'll look that term up later).
9.00am
Nayla's babysitter arrives.
I get update on Nayla's latest activities.
I finish dressing and go fix my untamable hair.
I call Maia 6 times to come brush her teeth.
I brush Nayla's teeth.
9.15
3rd attempt to make coffee.
Rosa calls and offers to bring some instead. Praise the Lord!
No time for breakfast, yet.

breathe.
9.17
Getting Maia dressed.
Helping to get Nayla dressed.
Picking up left-over milk bottles and cups from the night.
Cleaning up kids' breakfast dishes.
The dog pukes. Cleaning that up.
9.25
Pack bags.Put on coats & boots.
Call Rosa to bring Luca, who really does not want to go to school.
9.35-9.45
Trying to convince Luca to get into the carseat.
9.45-10.05
stuck in traffic with two kids teasing each other.
Luca to me: I wish that your car breaks down. That all wheels fall off.
Me: Well, you might want to be careful what you wish for...You are sitting in that car. (and then immediately thinking that that probably wasn't the most mature response).
Luca to Maia: I have a toyyy and you don't.
Maia: Moooommmy, Luca hurt my feelings.
(note: Luca is usually a nice kid...but if you know the workings of 3-year olds then you know how moody they can be. It ain't pretty.)
10.05-10.20
drop off kids. find parking. drag all bags and almost cold coffee to office.
10.25
visit main office and get update on my friend Shelly's life (mother back in hospital; problems in the relationship; etc.)
10.35
back on my desk. computer finally ready to go. Network slow as hell.
10.40
my friend Marta stops by my office. I listen to her life-updates (got into another car accident this morning). Makes me go get breakfast sandwich with her. Feel bad to say no, since whole other accident story just cost her weeks and weeks of time and aggravation (i.e. what kind of friend would I be if I had no time to listen).
10.55am-4.30pm
in front of my computer with one bathroom break.
only personal thing I get to do is to blog my photo of the day, chat for about 10 min., and to respond to about 3 or 4 private mails.
4.30
go see the boss
5.00-5.30
get lunch and listen to my friend Evi's life update (starting new job tomorrow, got married on Friday, family of 10 visiting)
5.35-6.40pm
finishing up with work (on ultra-slow annoying as hell network)
7.15pm
coming home. taking over kids. play with them. bathe them. prepare them for bed. read books. sing songs. clean up a bit (only the tip of the iceberg).
9.00pm
lights out for Maia.
I fall onto sofa and can't move much more than my finger on the TV-remote.
10.00pm
should work on website side jobs. can't find strength to get up.finally motivate myself with thoughts of cookies in kitchen. get to kitchen. face big mess. clean up a bit.
10.30pm
must sleep, I say. go brush teeth, wash face, etc. - end up energized for new activities.
decide to read. reading makes me tired. think about sex but D didn't put out yesterday so today I'll be the one not giving it up (but seriously, am just not in the mood today).
get on the computer for a few minutes. few minutes turns into an hour. here I go. let's see what tomorrow brings.
12.00am (midnight)
still not sleeping. ..and dammit, I missed the Halloween Parade in the Village.

the never-getting-done list

Yesterday (or today if you will) I stayed up working until 6 o'clock in the morning. It probably wouldn't have been that long if I hadn't been interrupted by a car crash and its entailing comical scenario in front of our building and the fact that Nayla opened her eyes around 2am without having any desire to return to sleep until about 4.30am. (maybe I'll post a picture of the car accident later. you have to see this. I'm not even sure how the guy pulled this off.)

So, this morning after getting up around 11am (5 hours of z-s) I faced another day of finding myself behind schedule on my endless list of things to-do. And it's not like these things are top priority but this is exactly the problem. That's why they never get done. I just cannot spare any precious time. For example, I have been living in this apartment for 2 years now, and I have not a single picture in any of the rooms except for the living room, which went about a year without images on the walls. And I am a photographer. Not that I hang up any of my work but naturally I am a very visually oriented person...and so I constantly add to a large collection of pictures and frames I would like to combine and hang up but never do.
Another task on my list would be that I have to back-up my laptop's hard-drive. I am running out of space and every day I am adding to the thousands of photographs I have stored there.

So, today - after Dario told me once again what piece of completely unneccessary accessory he found on ebay - I voiced my frustration...or melancholy (since frustration might indicate that I sounded angry when really I didn't).
I just said to Dario:" Damn, I don't understand how I struggle every day to find time to do the 10,000 things I am supposed to do, while you manage to find time to do absolutely nothing and spend your free time researching historical oddities, play video-games, or surf the net for ebay steals. HOW is this possible? We have the same kids. How can you do all this while you are "taking care" of the children? Maybe I just need to get up earlier.
"Yeah, you get up late...and you just don't know how to manage your time." he says.
"8.30 is not that late...I am up until 2am most days. [And about managing time - HA HA HA!! look who's talking.]" Well, I didn't actually say the latter part of this.
Anyway, he started to play the blame-game again... or maybe it's just me being defensive....but I think he gets a kick out of finding my faults. What he doesn't get is that I expose them so he can give me either helpful feedback or acknowledge the fact that I am a F/T working mother with two small children, and a shitload of responsibilities to take care of.

That's what I am really asking for. Emotional support (and here we are again. didn't I just write about that the other day?)...sigh.

the embarrassment when you fwd an e-mail hoax

I feel soo embarrassed and I can't get over it. I received an Amber Alert via e-mail the other day and usually I am VERY good about checking on any forwarded mails (i.e. I always investigate at urbanlegends.com or something the like). Unfortunately, they got me this time. It looked so real (with image of the missing girl and original message sent by parent on October 17th or something like that) I didn't even check and just forwarded to all the people in my WORK (!) e-mail address book.
Anyway, someone notified me that that alert is a hoax.
shit shit shit. so unprofessional. so embarrassing. what does one do, when they pollute other people's office-email inboxes with internet-hoaxes? send out a recall? send out an apology for one's stupidity? I don't know; and so I am left with nothing but my very long-lasting embarrassment.
AND who the hell makes up an Amber Alert anyway? What purpose does this serve? Crying Wolf....
Some people just don't have shit to do. (but seriously, I am very very curious to know as to what would motivate someone to come up with any such hoaxes.)

scary public school system in NYC

this entry is in response to two extensive comments I received on my last post. I thought, I'd put the reply to the latest comment here in order to intrigue you to go read the comments. If you have kids in New York City and haven't been familiarized with the realities of the schooling system then you'll be shocked that it seems to be worse than you've expected. If you have kids but are not from NYC then you'll be amused and probably very happy where you are at right now. If you don't have kids, then you'll just read them for the sake of staying in my loop ;) ...you gotta stay with the program here!
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anyway, so now to you - anonymous blogger:
first of all, thanks for making my day, again! I must be compliment-deprived. I get so happy, it's pathetic. ;)
second, ... now I am really scared about sending my girls to public school. I can't believe the stories you are telling me. That is outrageous. This system is worse than I thought. ....
Even though Maia (the older one of my two) is only 3.5 years old, I started looking into schools with strong programs and good reputations. However, when I say looking...that's all I mean (i.e. a bit of research on the Internet, asking around, questioning some teacher-friends). I didn't know I'll be in panic mode for the next two years. ...
shoot. ...but thanks... and I'm not sure if I mean that in a grateful or "hey-I-was-blissful-with-my-ignorance" kinda way.
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shit. this is really scary. there is nothing worse I can imagine than seeing Maia's talents go to waste in a failing system...and all because I don't have $$$.
(and, of course, there is worse that I could imagine... any mother knows the masochistic terror thoughts that go through one's head...those fears about the safety and wellness of your children...I just can't turn those off....and it's worst when I have to leave her in someone else's care....without any power to protect her from harm. ..... They grow up too fast..... and I am getting into a different blog topic....and if I haven't done so to you I am beginning to annoy myself with this weird telegraphic writing style.....but it sure makes it easy to let my mind stream.....not having to think about grammar or punctuation....in other words I am a lazy ass.)

my amazing 3-year old

ok. time to brag a little.
maia, now 3.5 years old, is really developing at an amazing speed. she's always been smart but she amazes me more every day.

yesterday, I told her that we need to go to the dentist. so this morning while brushing her teeth she says:
Mom, am I going to the dentist for a check-up?
Yes, but not today. I have to make an appointment first, I said. In fact, remind me to call the dentist once I drop you off at daycare.
And doesn't the girl remind me, the moment I pull open the door to the daycare center an hour later. Mom, don't forget to call the dentist.

I mean, I know kids have good memory but heck, I'm going to take advantage of that little computer. I forgot to call the dentist about the same minute I said it. It's like my head has reached full capacity and nothing ("irrelevant") fits anymore. It's sad.
Maybe I should start taking my vitamins again. .... if I don't forget.

At the daycare center they've taken her into the Pre-K program early and yesterday her teacher told me that she can write (copy from the blackboard, I suppose) the complete date by herself and writes her letters better than all the 4 & 5 year olds in the Pre-K program.
Here a picture of her writing. I was amazed.....although, my mom says, I was able to read and write at 3, as well, so obviously this isn't a sign of any special intelligence;)



Sometimes, this perfectionism of hers also worries me a bit. I try to tell her that it doesn't matter if she colors outside of the lines. I tell her it doesn't matter if her clothes match. I tell her not to worry about what other people say. (She gets very emotional about things and apologizes for any little misstep. .... The other day, she told me that she didn't like someone because they were ugly, which, of course, shocked me at first which in turn might have made me come off a bit too intense on my "you-shall-not-judge-etc" speech. I really wasn't loud or anything. I just told her that wasn't a nice thing to say...and beauty lies within a person...etc. etc. Anyway, she started crying after like a minute and apologized.
I wasn't sure which shocked me more: her comment or her guilt once I explained the roughness of such a remark. It's like she understood the concept immediately and felt really bad about it.)

are other people having better marriages?

I read this article about public vs. private schools and this part almost made me cry. Not because of some dilemma about whether to go public or private (since I almost don't have a choice) but because of the so peripherally mentioned interaction between the author and his wife. Is this what marriage could be like or is he bullshitting? Or maybe he is just describing one of those few moments. I'm sure he's not sitting down in deep conversation with his wife every day, or is he?
[...]
We are not on a beach in France. The woman across the couch from me is not topless. I rub her feet. The boys are asleep. My wife and I toss out concerns like medicine balls.
“I’m sorry,” one of us says, “but I love the idea of smaller classes.”
“I’d like us all to see the Grand Canyon and Europe before they’re 18,” says the other.
"At private, he’ll have electives and better equipment.”
"Shouldn’t matter. The most important learning goes on outside the classroom.”
We feel like Faye Dunaway at the end of Chinatown.
[full article]

Only once would I like to sit down and have a dialogue about a subject concerning our kids in which both parties have done their research. I don't think Dario ever reads any of the articles I send him on raising kids and having a marriage. I think he just assumes, as long as I do my (our) homework we're good.

This is depressing. I need go find a cynical article about marriage now otherwise I'll stay depressed. And what is most depressing (yes, I have used the word three times now) is the fact that I'm in a relatively good phase right now.

alternate lives

I received a message on my voicemail confirming my dinner with the attorney general tonight at 7pm at some fancy place. When I returned the call to tell the woman that she had dialed the wrong number I came to think of how different my life would be if I had made different choices at certain turning points in my life. What if I had never moved to the Bronx and stayed in Manhattan like the rest of the people I knew then. What if I had stuck to my decision and had never let Dario come with me when I moved out of our crazy 9-roomate-inhabited first apartment? What if I had listened to the encouragement of my mentors and professors and gone on to Harvard as I had dreamed? What if...

So, today when I cancelled "my dinner" with the attorney general I had a moment of mourning of my lost alternate life of excitement and grandeur.;) .... It also made me think about my friend Johnny who has decided to decline his 3rd offer from Wallstreet, quit his PhD program in mathematics as well as his job with a research group of the NASA , and give away all of his belongings to become a Navy Seal and be shipped to the Middle East. As a convinced pacifist and somewhat of a democrat, I needed a couple of hours of questioning him until I finally understood his motivation. It is too deep and too complex to explain in just a few sentences but essentially he woke me up. He reminded me of all the things I don't do, have not done, but am longing to do. Play the piano, learn how to read music (something I skipped when learning the piano in highschool), reacquaint myself with the principles of math (more because of the challenge than because of any love for mathematics), be more interested, be more involved, be more more more. Of course, this is easier for him than for me. He doesn't have any kids, he already is very well read ..and last but not least, he also has an IQ up in the genius level. The only person he has to explain his sudden and complete self-involvement to is his wife...and if she loves him (which she does) she will understand and let him do his thing. He will come back.
I wouldn't know how to deal with a man like that. I wouldn't be able to deal with this whole macho tour. "Every man should know how to be a soldier." ...

Sometimes I wonder what the world would look like if it were ruled by women instead of by men. Johnny thinks it would be mayhem (of course) and wars would be even worse. I disagree with this theory. If women would be the politicians of the world there would be no or few wars. To declare war you have to be very arrogant, and self-involved. It's hard for women to be this way. Women like to communicate, compromise and they work things out. But maybe I am wrong. Maybe power is something that would corrupt any spirit...male or female. I don't know...

sex & marriage

you know, sometimes I get tired ...and I just want to tell Dario to go try find someone better because the man just doesn't know what he has in me. I might be bitching around on my blog but really I am always supportive of all his crazy plans (most of them involve months-long travels overseas), I try to understand his shortcomings as a man (yes, I have finally realized that men just function differently than women. it's just a damn fact. of course, I'm only terming it "shortcomings" cuz I'm on a little man-hatin' trip right now); I try to get him laid as often as possible, and I'd say after 10 years & 2 kids putting out every couple of days is not the norm, or is it? I am tolerant of all his little female friends and inappropriate husband-behavior, for I give him my full trust. I try to make him happy, make sacrifices often because I love him, but most of all, I don't ever want to be held responsible for a dream not followed, a life lead unhappily, or any sad circumstances one would like to blame their partner for.

Tonight, after one of our oh-so-rare date-nights (dinner & movie), I snapped and asked him if it really would be so much to ask to be a little bit more romantic sometimes instead of constantly trying to grab my boobs or my privates in public (well, not out in the open...but whenever noone can see). It really would be nice, if he would hold my hand or kiss my neck or even grab my butt ... but just don't turn everything into a freaking porn-moment. It's pissing me off. And since we were already at the subject, I told him that it would also be nice to get some foreplay sometimes. I am not a dude, man, I said, I can't just get right at it. ...and I'm sorry but after 10 years of being with the same man I need a little extra touch to get me into the mood. According to Dario I'm stuck up that way and that Puerto-Rican girls don't need any of that because they're just sexual like that. Geez, could he stereotype any more? He is living in a Reggaeton song.
So I countered: Rosa would beg to differ. And how would you know anyway? You are talking about your highschool experiences...and come'on...in HS we all were freakin' horny all the time. We had no responsibilities...nothing else to do....also, if I would get a new piece of ass I would certainly be hot in a second as well....plus, nowadays it is you who can't keep up anymore, honey. I am definitely getting to my sexual prime. Before, I could have gone without sex for ages...I really did not care much. But ever since I turned 30 my sexual appetite has increased exponentially.
Why is that? Why do women reach their sexual peak in their mid-thirties and men in their early twenties? What is the genetic point of that??

just fyi

some people might get the idea that I don't want to be a mother... and sometimes I wonder myself...but I think, only a parent will understand regrets or frustrations such as mine.
It isn't that I don't want my children. I'd rather die than not have them but sometimes I wish I had waited just a liiittle bit longer to have them. I just wasn't ready and it took me a long time to get used to my new role.
My grandmother was right....you better make sure you're done with all that you wanted to do with your life (all your passions, career, etc.) before having a child, for once you commit to being a parent your life is over and it will from there on only be about your child. (If you plan to be a good parent, that is.)

so, as not to jinx myself (for sometimes I am a bit superstitious... i.e. "be careful what you wish for") .... I thank God for my children every day.

shouldn't I enjoy parenthood more enthusiastically?

I don't know what's wrong with me. Shouldn't I enjoy the weekend with my kids...my family? Instead I am edgy (trying to hide that almost successfully) and annoyed by the fact that I can't just break out and do whatever I want to do. I really could use a trip to the fitness center right about now but there is no way I will get that time before nightfall...and I mean real night..like past 10 pm kinda thing. And that also only if I ignore the rest of the stuff that needs to be done in the house (laundry, cleaning, etc.). As I am writing this entry my 18-mo. old (Nayla) is hanging on my knee craving full attention. If I don't give her 100% of the latter she is just as cranky as I feel. Am I a bad mother? Am I just overworked and have not enough balance in my life? I don't know. The fact that I feel physically impaired (chronic f*in backpain, and strange stomach aches ever since pregnancy/childbirth) isn't helping either. ok gotta go. Nayla is now crying. sigh.

strange song requests

Maia (now 3.5 yrs old) is having strange lullaby song requests lately. I can't get away with your regular "twinkle twinkle little star" anymore. She has special requests. Before it was easy. She wanted me to sing a "milk-song" or a "cow & milk"-song.
Nowadays this is what she asks for:
Mom, can you sing me the song with the mermaid and the princess and the queen and the shark, and the shark ate them all, and they all had pointy hats on.
What worries me is that she doesn't mind if the shark doesn't spit them back out, which is how I developed the song for a few nights and then one evening just ended the story after the shark is full to see what she says. She has no complaints, so I started adding happy ends again, and even if it is more for my own peace of mind.

time management issues

i've got too much sh*t to do... here only an excerpt of the things I just never get to because my daily to-do list is too demanding (note the DUE dates;)

MTV reality shows driving me nuts

I'm in bed, sick. So, there is nothing else to do but watch TV on our miniature-sized television in the bedroom. Somehow, I ended up watching MTV, which really I despise lately, for it has nothing to do with music anymore. Moreover, I remember how MTV used to make me feel fat and ugly and it still has that effect. This channel is like a bad drug addiction.

However, today, there was a new addition to my fluctuating MTV feelings. A concern that I never had to deal with before. A thought that sprang to mind while shaking my head at these ridiculously superficial and spoiled brats in "Run's House" and "Laguna Beach". Maia will grow up watching shows like these and in school she will be surrounded by girls who want to be cheerleaders, and pretty for the boys, and ditzy and....aaaaaarhgh.

There was one show I managed to watch: "Made" ... it's about these average, possibly a bit introverted kids who would like to become popular. The episode I saw today, was about this girl who wanted to become a cheerleader. Even though I rooted for her success, I was really disappointed that I never heard one of her parents tell her what the hell she's doing trying to be someone she is not. ...And not someone better. Just someone more popular. It was sad, in a way.
But I remember how it was being a teenager....I know one doesn't care. You just want to be like everyone else tells you to be. Thin, beautiful, popular. However, here in the States this is a whooole different ballgame. It's devastating for anyone who isn't in the in-crowd, whereas in Austria (or at least, where I grew up) it really didn't matter that much.

Watching 5 minutes of "Run's House", however, was all I could take. This is a reality show about Rev. Run from Run DMC and his family. I tuned in when Run's teenage daughter asks him to plan a party. She already has hired some party-planner who is doing the walk-through and unsuspecting Run has to listen to his daughter telling him (seriously) that -FOR THE PARTY ONLY- she wants the pool turned into a dancefloor (i.e. to be covered with glass) which will cost about 10,000 dollars. Then she talks about fireworks, which the party-planner estimates could cost anywhere between $15,000 up to $100,000. Then I have to watch the wife supporting this insane party plan. "Yeah, it could be like when Puffy had these fireworks at his house and they spelled this name. That was really cool." Finally Run cracks and says...no, no that's too crazy. You can have a party around the pool, we'll put up a grill and you can have 50-60 kids over max. A few minutes later they get the daughter crying in her room talking about how she doesn't want her father to think she's spoiled or anything [HA HA HA]...but 50 kids is not that much. What is she gonna tell people when they ask her if they could come?
OH MY GOD! .... I was in shock. And the girl couldn't have been older than 13.

Laguna Beach I couldn't take more than 5 minutes. Those kids annoyed me with their boring little conversations "oh my god, he was like...and I was like...and he was like..." ..."oh and I'm not going to this party...and she's such a bitch... and oh, this necklace looks great on you."

ok. I've had my share of afternoon TV. I'm out.
laterz.

wifely duties anno 1955 - OHMYGOD

here an article sent to me (and Rosa) by my husband. I found it funny and jaw-dropping but Rosa had a hard time taking it as a joke and is still mad at Dario. ;)

-------------------------------------------------------------original message
An article published in "Housekeeping Monthly" in 1955. It is a measure of how things have changed since then. While it may make the male readers laugh, it will probably enrage the female readers!
1. Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.
2. Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just beenwith a lot of work-weary people.
3. Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.
4. Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives.
5. Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc. and then run a dust cloth over the tables.
6. Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.
7. Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.
8. Be happy to see him.
9. Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.
10. Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation aremore important than yours.
11. Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.
12. Your goal: try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
13. Don't greet him with complaints and problems.
14. Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.
15. Make him comfortable. Make him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.
16. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.
17. Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.
18. A good wife always knows her place.
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Rosa's reply:
You would have been okay if you hadn't written read and learn as the subject to this memo. The fictious "men" they are talking about supposedly went to a real job and worked their asses off [to pay for all the wife wished for]. I'm sure you would not like the part you would have to play in order to get us to do what struck you as a wonderful thing when you read this article.

turning 31

Now I am definitely "30-something" and I better get used to it. Of course, I could start telling people I am 28 and just stick with that story until they just don't believe me anymore.

The day was rather uneventful. I worked a bit, got a couple of BD-calls and mails, and left early to go see a movie with my friend Rosa. The movie didn't catch me (Nick Park's new Wallace & Gromit story), so we left early to go to Target. It's pathetic. I must really be getting old if "Wallace & Gromit" don't do it for me anymore. What is wrong with me? ...Maybe it's the fact that my dentist just put me on Valium to deal with some irritated nerve and extreme muscle-tensions. Even though I take the V only at night instead of the prescribed 3x/day dosage, I think I've had a bit of apathy as a side-effect. Other than that it didn't hold up to the stigma I had attached to this drug. It took me like a week to even get the prescription, for I just didn't want to be a woman who takes Valium (no matter if it's only for a month). The fact that I finally did get it proves how much I have americanized. It worked miracles on my chronically hurting back, though, and I am sleeping like a rock. I don't know if the baby incidentally has begun sleeping through the night or if I really just don't hear her anymore. Either way, I am very comfortable with the amount of rest I am currently getting. So maybe, it's not the Valium that's making me calmer during the day....maybe it's just the fact that I have more sleep and stress less.

Anyway, to recall the rest of the day ..... when I got home from Target (having spent money I do not have for things we do not need -> amongst other things a 100-piece puzzle for Maia, which she is finishing right now), Rosa & co. came down with two cakes happily singing the birthday song.
"Make a wish!" they said and I instinctively wished not to get any older. Only after having blown out the candles I realized that I had just wished for my own death. Thus, I am sharing my birthday wish with as many people as possible, so that it won't come true.

One last note on the day and on Maia's possibly clairvoyant abilities:
When I came home from shopping, Maia came to me and said..."Mommy, can I have some of the chocolate cake with the flower on it and your name on it?"
In a way she gave away the fact that there was a birthday cake for me...so I went to check the fridge. Nothing was to be found. When I asked Rosa later, if Maia had seen the cake (which was chocolate with a flower and my name on it), she said that Maia had definitely not seen the cake. It was bought this afternoon and sat then tied up in a box upstairs until the moment they came downstairs with it singing.

Maia gets sarcastic

So now that she's 3.5 years old it's time for another chapter in Maia's sometimes too fast advancing development.
Little example. Tonight. Maia is walking around with big pink bunny ears.
Dario: I see a monkey. I see a monkey.
Maia: Does this look like a monkey costume to you? Hm? (and then slow as to make it easier to grasp for him) I am wearing BUNNY ears!!
here a picture of maia w/ "her" ears.
http://newyork.blogphotography.com/archives/2888_1280467555/95140

I can't hurt a fly ... but a roach is gonna get it

Before I moved to NYC (the potential capital of the cockroach world) I couldn't kill any animals, at all. Well, except for the mosquito but that I justified with the fact that I was acting in "self-defense".
When I moved to New York I thus saw myself in a little situation called pest infestation. The mice (in my first apartment) weren't allowed to be killed by gruesome glue-traps, or the old-fashioned snappy thing. So Dario got a "humane" trap, which threw the mouse into another locked compartment with air-holes. Unfortunately, the mice would come back after Dario would throw them out the window (which, by the way, didn't seem to bother them even though we were up in the 3rd floor). The reason we could identify them as the same mice is because Dario began tagging them with white-out [for my non-American friends: that's Tipex]. The fact that I was feeding them during their entrapment probably wasn't helping.
One day, we caught eleven mice ...and that was the day I decided to get a cat. It worked within a week. The mice were gone.
The roaches, however, stayed. And even though we are now in a mice-free apartment we never got rid of the roaches. No matter where we lived.
I don't know when it happened but I have now put those darn roaches on my black-list with the only other animal I'd kill (the mosquito). I always apologize, for I still feel bad since my motive isn't really any of "survival".

I always wonder about the intelligence of these animals. They know exactly when they're safe or in danger. They seize you up more like mammals than insects. ...(wait, is a roach an insect? yeah, it's in the beetle family, right?) They stretch their little antennas at you to see what you're going to do next and they play this little daredevil game with you. They're propably well aware that it's really hard to kill them. They can withstand unbelievable amounts of household spray, and if you hit them with anything that's not exactly flat, chances are they'll live. And if you've ever swept up a roach you thought was dead you might have encountered their sudden body-bounciness. It's scary.

My husband's booty-call agreement

Just so you understand the nature of my relationship. Below is what Dario came home with yesterday. And after my first laugh, I sort of realized that this is something I shouldn't be laughing about, should I? If I made such an agreement with any of my friends the man would lose his cool... but I must be a sucka. Or a really good wife. Or ...someone who understands her man and that this really means nothing. I am any of these things depending on my mood. ... So, here is that booty-call agreement ...I'm sure you'll enjoy it more than I ...being the wife and all.

the signs to your path are clear they say

so, I'm supposed to read The Alchemist for my bookclub, which basically says that the signs to your right path (or your destiny) are very clear and they are everywhere. I haven't read the book, yet...but a friend told me.

So, now that I am on closer look-out for such signs (especially in my current situation - to be or not to be with Dario) I came across ANOTHER 50 Cent look-alike. If you look at my previous post, I just saw a "Doppel-gaenger" of my "free-cheat-famous-person" this morning. Maybe it's that everyone is copying the 50-Cent-style ..but this guy looked even more like 50 (actually maybe a younger version) than the one from this morning.

I tell you, something is pointing me in that direction. And with that direction I mean to move on already.

However, there is another voice inside of me and it's asking how I can be sure my signs are coming from the right side? What if my "signs" are coming from the evil side. ...Not that I believe in heaven and hell but I definitely believe in evil ...and in a wrong and right path. However, I am not so sure if there are other forces involved when we make our decisions.
And the weaker we are the easier we are pushed onto that wrong path....pushed to make that very bad decision...which we knew wasn't a very good idea to begin with.

So, .. I feel a little bit like Voltaire's Candide today. Very philosophically inclined.

50 Cent is my free ticket

you know how you do these weird pacts with your partner? you've basically got one famous person you are allowed to sleep with (because that ain't never gonna happen, anyway).
For Dario that's Gwen Stefani ..or Julia Stiles (I think) ... for me it's 50 Cent but I think I just changed my mind. Looking for a photo to post on my blog I found a mugshot of his ...and his real name is CURTIS! (oh no, oh no...my beautiful "bad boy" illusion is destroyed.) I have to say, though, this man knows how to deliver the "tough rapper" image. Excellent marketing. You should check out his site ...well, he probably really is tough...but the PR work is still excellent
www.50centonline.com

Anyway, the reason I am making this entry is because today I ran into somebody who looked JUST like 50 Cent. I had to make a double-take and he caught me at it, which made me blush and smile like a shy teenager (not that these girls are shy anymore...nowadays.) A minute later, as I was parking my car (where I wasn't supposed t0), he triple-parked right next to me (to move some weights he had left on the floor before). This then didn't leave any space for the bus behind us to pass and that's how we made contact. We really didn't make contact. I'm a wuss so we just talked for like a second about who should be moving the car (me or him) and then as he was driving away he waved at me with a very big smile.
There goes my free ticket, I thought, too bad I probably won't ever see him again.

This is the kind of place New York is. A city full of beautiful people which I will never connect with. The perfect place for singles (who can be spontaneous and open with strangers). Not so much fun for the commited ones (like me)...who can't offer anything but a smile.
I'm so prude.

sigh.