Home » Uncategorized » Year in Review 2015

Year in Review 2015

It’s a part of the season. You find in the mail the laundry lists of what people have done over the year. Vague, bland, covering all bases and offending no one, and yet, not even directly speaking to you as the reader.

Could I do better? Well, as someone who now writes for a living, let me allow myself to challenge, um, myself.

[This is starting off superbly.]

I have on my fridge a motivational card from a monthly sample box. It says:

Let's.

I slapped that on there after I figured out I was pregnant with round 2. If you’ve been paying any sort of attention, you’ve seen how that developed and the end result. I’m very glad to say that I’ve taken my two trips on the pregnancy carousel and I’m done thankyouverymuch. He’s lovely though, now at almost four months as I write this, awaking to the world. I’m attempting to get him to laugh, which will come hopefully later to my sometimes caustic humor, now it’s just with my attempts to tickle him under his arms.

So the drinking had to come to a screeching stop early in the year. Perhaps that was a benefit because I wrote a funny cover letter for a change instead of my sad, boilerplate covers that highlighted all my tired “career” highlights. I used a Simpsons reference in my cover letter; I was very proud of myself.

How dare you not know who Troy McClure is. Get off my blog.

You might remember me as the one who got a journalism degree.

And then I got a new full-time job. For the first time, I do what I was somewhat trained to do, something I supposedly am master in [Ha!] – communications. It’s pseudo communications cum marketing cum propaganda…and I love it!

I accepted the position with one hand over my abdomen and here I got very, very lucky, there was a hand wave and a expressed notion that this was fine for the gig. No biggie, our department loves babies. And they do, they’ve been lovely.

Lemme just step out with a PSA:
I’m going to mention an unsexy part of having a child, diapers. You have a baby shower, you’ll want, and get, those cute fucking onesies. Check yourself. Ask for diapers. Quick – stuffed bunny or a wipe warmer? NO dammit, diapers.

The answer is usually tacos. Here it is diapers.

This was the diaper cake from my work baby shower.

I said a variation of “diapers plz” to everyone who asked and many people listened. Aside from one time I asked my husband to run and get a small pack more newborn diapers because I was high on The Feels instead The Practicals – Bubba could have easily moved to the next size then – I have not bought diapers in the four months with this child. Diapers or…? Not a question. Say diapers every time. I’ll probably make it to six months without a diaper purchase with what I still have left. I’m also proud of this.

So… you have to cover everyone in the household in this year-end reviews. Pets, other children, and significant others. My SO will be super pleased about the tail ranking he’ll perceive from that list, so let’s start with him first.

If you’re reading this, you have already been contacted by him for insurance. Do you need insurance? Do you have anyone you know who might need insurance? Your Mom, cousin, barber? Did that person on the public transport we don’t use in southern NM look like they’d need insurance? Get their number. I know a guy.I_know_a_guy.jpg

He wavers between highs and lows with it, but it’s not my story to tell. He wants his own blog. But srsly, you need insurance? You’re not covered right now (oh what I have learned) and Christmas lights can be a fire hazard. Don’t trust Geico; trust my husband.

Sproessling number 1; she good? She is! She is pumped about Christmas for the very first time. My Mom bought her a (spoiler alert to 3-year-olds who have learned some reading from PBS) baby vanity from Walmart…on our trip to Walmart. We were not covert about this at all.

It's the Paltrow!

“Where is my box?”
“Um, what box?”
“Omi. Walmart. The box. Where is my box?”
“She…um, gave it Santa because that’s how that rolls.”

Last night, Mall Santa told me quizzically, “She said she wants her box.” Yep, I know.

She’s had a decent year. I’ll keep this short because current blog plans include letters to my kids, because once you go Mom blog, you don’t crawl back out. Ever.

Last bit: over about a period of two weeks at the beginning of this year I noticed her speech taking a rapid turn, suddenly it was sentences and thoughts. Her first real joined sentence and softhearted thought is a perfect transition. We were at the dining room table and she laughed randomly at our dog. “I love Kira,” she stated. “…I like dogs.” It blew my mind in simplicity and joy and terror of her piecing the world together. How am I supposed to hide boxes?

I discovered this year that I have a dog allergic to dirt and a cat with kidney problems. They both vex me to varying degrees. But, they do the same for me that my favorite compliment of my life has been so far, which, happened this year: “You bring life to the house.” He just wanted to sell me insurance, but I’ll take it.

That'd be my cat.

Obligatory photo of Frank. He could use a good kidney. He does not routinely use hot water bottles, but he was extremely pleased tonight.

What else…

I somehow became a food blogger. Early in the year, the large daily paper editor asked hesitantly if I wanted to write restaurant reviews. The article price and the buying of food don’t really even out, she warned in advance. I say sure, because I always do. It has been one of the more interesting parts of my year due to me stretching in my ability to capture field food photography… and to discover how many ways can you describe an enchilada and a side of rice and beans. I’ve failed in the latter, grown somewhat in the former.

Yep, pregnant.

Look at this foodie shot. Accidental composition is my favorite kind.

But – the more amusing part is the fan email I’ve gotten, especially the one who believed there might be a local cabal on salsa. [For the record, sometime I do think places hand out the “gringo” salsa when they see my blue-eyed, pasty-ass self.]

Lastly, my Mom’s good. [Likely the only person who won’t be offended she comes in behind the pets and salsa. I hope. I love you Ma.] She has been working double-time now, helping out tremendously with the kiddos. In return, I use my Jack Donaghy negotiation skills to talk a roofer down three grand on a re-roofing her rental house.

I do what I can.

Which, coincidentally, might be the theme for 2016.

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