Breaking Story--L.A. News Is Weird

(This picture is in no way related to the post below.  

Please enjoy either one if you must choose between the two.)

I used to have a boyfriend from Kentucky (don't ask).  He came to visit me in Chicagoland once and anything that was different from it's counterpart in Kentucky was deemed "weird."  Street lamps, traffic lights and stores were all considered WEIRD.  Shortly after his arrival I determined he was WEIRD and shipped him back to Kentucky.  (He really did get super WEIRD.)

Now I find myself channeling Kentucky Weirdo as I am now a Californian after residing in Illinois my entire life.  There are plenty of differences but one glaringly obvious example is this thing they call the "local news".

First of all, none of them are memorable, shows or news anchors.  Not a one.  They seem to have a rotating cast of anchors as well.  It doesn't matter which channel I tune into, not one person ever seems to be the same.  Except for the Good Day L.A. folks in the morning and early afternoon.  They are kooky as hell which is one reason I like them. But I can't help but miss my Chicago crew.  Where's Mark Suppelsa when you need him?  Oh, what I wouldn't give for Linda Yu to pop up on the screen!  Let's not even go into the fact I miss the WGN Morning News Show more than a fish would miss water.  Larry Potash rules!  Seriously.  

But no, those folks aren't here.  And these folks are WEIRD.  Many of them dress like they're headed to nightclubs seconds after the newscast ends.  And while I love entertainment "news" more than the next gal, it's still WEIRD when these items are the leading stories.  The "Lost" finale trumped all other items.  I'm pretty sure there's still a few wars going on overseas that could be considered more important (sorry, Jack Shepard but it's true).  Lindsay Lohan should get her own news program at this point.  Lindsay's downward spiral, all day and all night here on NBC!  Tune in at the top of the hour, 10 minutes after the hour and every 5 minutes after that for the next 24 hours to get breaking news on Lindsay!  Jesus.     

I love living here in sunny SoCal but Chicago definitely knows what's going on when it comes to their reporting.  If you're in Chicago, please tell Diane Burns I miss her terribly.  And Larry Potash too please because he really is the coolest.  Seriously.   

Stressed City Today

We've had some minor injuries here today.  

 The Boy tripped and fell face first onto his wooden rocking chair.  The only thing he could have tripped on was his own feet.  Or maybe just a wobbly moment?  Whatever happened it was INTENSE.  Blood and screaming followed immediately after.  He's the only one who bled but all three of us were freaked out messes.  While The Boy bled for what seemed like FOREVER, we did our best to remain calm, comfort him and figure out what the heck was hurt in his mouth.  Trying to get a toddler to open his bloody mess mouth for inspection has to be one of the most stressful events ever.  Luckily it was a relatively small cut in his mouth from a front tooth and it stopped bleeding quickly.  We all were beyond relieved.  Unfortunately, Puppy Blankie and my pajama top were covered in blood.  I don't care too much about the PJ top but Puppy Blankie might be scarred for life.  

Alright.  Woah.

Just as I was typing this a story on the news showed a 15 month baby falling into the path of a speeding train because the grandmother let go of his/her stroller for a split second.  So yeah, I'm pretty sure that is more stressful than a bleeding mouth.  Note to self--don't let Boy go near trains with any of his grandparents just to be safe.

The day wasn't all blood and tears.  We also went to a park and Boy LOVED getting wet from the drinking fountain.  All the playground equipment and an open field of grass could not deter him from drenching himself and his father in water.  He was sopping wet as we drove home.

Not A Hot Bed Of Excitement. Just In Need Of A Bed.

Still ill.

Please enjoy a picture of The Boy watching "Treme" (too close to the TV, I know, I know) because this is the only photo I can take while lying face down on the couch.  Watching TV, slurping down chicken soup and sleeping in my free time is about all I've been capable of.  Well, I did make a lasagna the other night so really I should give myself a pat on the back.  And a girlfriend came to visit for a few days and I did get her to the beach for a few hours even though my head felt like a balloon.  Balloon Head has to be one of the worst symptoms ever!  I had it for a week after The Boy was born too (as if having a baby via C-Section wasn't enough for the poor body).  Another girlfriend asked me what percentage I was feeling and I told her 75% which was a lie.  I think I was closer to 60% but we've all been sick from our little playgroup and I didn't want to sound like a wuss.  Now I'm feeling closer to 75%.  Tomorrow I hope to be more of an 85%.  And then soon I won't be using percentages to gauge my health.  I'll be back to using percentages to gauge my sobriety.  I kid!  Sort of.

In related news, I think The Boy and I have overloaded on boob tube (that's a television for you youngsters) and will need a massive break from it.  Mr. Jarcy and I took him to a park today--the first outing in days--and it was as if he had forgotten the outdoors existed.  I actually felt similar.  But lucky for him his father and some other children's nanny played with him.  I mostly sat and fantasized about guzzling Gatorade and sleeping.  Like I said, 75%...

Bleh.

The Boy and his Aunt!

We've been busy here in Studio City.  First, my Seester came to visit and it was lovely!  Then my folks came and that was lovely too!  Unfortunately, The Boy and I have been ill.  He got sick before they showed up and was an irritable nightmare at times.  Poor baby and poor baby's grandparents.  But in the picture above he seems perfectly content.  We took him to an outdoor recreation area called Lake Balboa in the Valley.  He loved the water and insisted on getting his little toesies in this stream.

That's all for now.  I have a date with my bed and hot steam humidifier.

P.S.  I didn't even last a full day of not reading celebrity gossip.  Disregard my last post.

My Friend Demi Went To Which Diddy Party?

I'm about to embark on something extremely severe in the world of Mrs. Jarcy...

I'm going to give up celebrity "news."

WHAT?!  Mrs. Jarcy, celebrity gossip--er, sorry "news"-- is like air, water and baked goods in your world!!!

Exactly.  And like any serious addict, I need to go to rehab.  The following warning signs have led me to believe I do indeed have a problem.

1. I log on to Perez Hilton several hundred times a day.  TMZ, E Online and whatever Yahoo is spouting get perused profusely as well.
2. I find it necessary to discuss the going-ons of my friends--er, sorry celebrities--with Mr. Jarcy and some of my other (actual, real life) friends.
3. I'm starting to feel ill after reading US Weekly (okay, and also People, InTouch and the L.A. Times).  

So it's time for a change.  I'm not sure how I'm going to make it through the day without this gossip dependency but I feel like curbing this repulsive behavior could do me a world of good.  I am not, however, ready to give up Facebook, Dancing With The Stars or anything aired on Bravo.  Baby steps here.  Baby steps...
 

Transfixed

Sometimes a half hour of "Dinosaur Train" on PBS is the most perfect gift a toddler, his gang of blankies and a mother can enjoy.  

Sleeple

Some babies take naps in their cribs.  Others snooze while eating an apple.  Every few seconds The Boy's head would rise up, take a nibble of the apple and then nod back off.  That's what happens when babies stave off naps all afternoon... one minute you're enjoying a late afternoon snack and the next your face down on your high chair's tray due to overwhelming exhaustion.

If I had a high chair tray I'm pretty sure my head would flop down on it from exhaustion right now too.  One of our marathon nights.  Not familiar?  We are...it's the time when no matter how much activity you provide Baby all day and night, he will still fight off sleep.  At midnight Baby will be whimpering in his crib because you've had the audacity to put him in there to sleep or at the very least pretend for a good 10-12 hours to sleep.  This all happens AFTER he's given you an earful of screaming over the FIRST attempt to put him to bed at 10 PM.  I know, foolish parents!  How could we be such morons to think Baby would want to go to bed at a time when other babies have been slumbering away for close to two hours?  Idiots.

Which brings me to my last item on this post's agenda--what do uber-celebrities do when their babies refuse night time sleep?  I'm talking the Tom Cruises, Victoria Bekhams and Jennifer Whatshernames of the world (I can't remember that one diva Jennifer's last name that's how much fatigue has set in).  Do they even know when their kids are awake at night?  Do they have kids that awaken at night?  Or are they like dolls one sets in a room and then wakes in the morning when it's time for breakfast?  I know they love their children and all, just wondering to what degree--if at all-- they go through some of these parenting milestones like schmucks like me.  

How I Write

I am a writer.  Well, okay, I don't get paid--unless you count the $1.02 I've earned from ads on the blog--but I do like to write.

I've also read various books from successful writers describing how they write.  Many of them get up at the crack of dawn and write for a healthy amount of time.  Like hours.  Others stay up late and write for a healthy amount of time.  Like hours.

What is your routine, Mrs. Jarcy???

I get up not too early but also not too late and tend to The Boy for a healthy amount of time.  Like hours.  Then I write whenever I have anywhere between 15 seconds and 15 minutes.  If I have time I repeat this routine throughout the day.  A lot sometimes.  And I do it standing up at my kitchen counter.  There is no time or freedom to sit.  If I sit too close to The Boy he will inevitably be drawn to the computer and bang at it with all his might.  If I sit somewhere away from him then he's not being tended to and will hunt me out anyway.  So I stand.  Like hours.  Then I stay up fairly late but not too late and tend to The Boy and whatever else needs to be done for a healthy amount of time.  Like hours.  And then I may write some more but will probably just veg out in front of the TV or a gossip mag before retiring for the night.

 Surrender to the writing on the wall and you will accomplish much more than sitting and waiting for the time to miraculously present itself.  Unless I could set up shop in the bathroom.  That's where my creative streak really seems to take off.  Who knew flossing was so inspiring!

Impromptu Sea Mist-Covered Beach Day

Someone went to the Santa Monica Beach today.  Any guesses?  Yep, you're right, it's The Boy.  He took his parents along for the ride.  Here he is wandering off with his father--

He is daddy's little buddy more than ever these days.  Me?  I'm chopped liver.  I'm telling myself it's a phase but, man, I don't like being snubbed by my own 15-month old child!  Get used to it, Mrs. Jarcy, he'll do it again when he's 15 years!  Yeah yeah, I know, Reader.  Boo hoo, wimper, wimper...

Here's The Boy throwing sand all over himself and anything (meaning us) within a five feet radius.  He would not be deterred from this.  

It was chilly as the entire area was covered in this sea mist fog but it was still a lot of fun.  The Valley was sunny, warm and hectic.  The beach was cold, windy and calm.  Thank goodness, we got to take a break from a playground!  Those things are a lot of work.  But this was just us, a blanket, lunch and a lot of warm sand.  Good stuff.  We're entertaining the thought of living down there in our new car.  

2 Years

For 2 solid years I have paid close attention to what I put into my body.  For 9 months I was pregnant so I had restrictions on food (who knew lunch meat was so friggin' controversial?!), medications and alcohol consumption (who knew alcohol was so friggin' controverial!).  Then I had a nursing baby for 14 months and similar rules applied (Yes, 14 months of breastfeeding and this is perfectly normal regardless of what you, your sister, your sister's best friend from college or your favorite celebrity mom has to say.  All I can say is every baby is different and every mama is different.  To each her own.).

But now all that is done, the restrictions have been lifted.  I can drink as much alcohol as I want.  I can use that dark circle eye cream that warns "do not use if pregnant or nursing" now.  4 Diet Cokes at 5pm will in no way affect The Boy (although I'm sure I'd be kinda messed up from that choice).  It's a freedom that one can't wait to have but then is hard to go back to.  I'm no longer bound to him as tightly and, I gotta say, it's rather wonderful but sad.  It's bittersweet.    

My boobs are no longer magical.  They were never magical like Salma Hayek's (although sort of because she nursed her baby forever and then some baby from another country even).  Salma Hayek has big, lovely boobs.  I think we can all agree on that.  Mine not so much.  I mean they're in no way disgusting but I doubt John Mayer would write a song about my chest being a "wonderland" if ever given a looksy at it.  My baby, however, thought they were magical.  By nursing I helped him build his immune system, how cool is that?  He went from tiny newborn to huge, strong baby which is also very cool.  He screamed his ass off at a decibel we couldn't believe could be generated by such a tiny being...unless my boob was in his mouth.  No pacifier would do.  No bottle would do.  A boob?  That will do.  If that is not a super power than I don't know what is.  Sure, it'd be cool to fly like Superman but the ability to stop newborn screams with my boobs wins any day in my book (its really the worst sound on earth and honestly I'm afraid of heights).  It's just too bad I can't put this on my resume.  

I'm not magical anymore.  The Boy woke up crying in the middle of the night from a bad dream or god knows what and I couldn't whip out my secret weapon and make it all better.  Getting calm and collected just isn't as easy.  We gotta work out new ways to reach Baby Zen and it doesn't always have to involve me.  He needed me more than I was prepared for and now he's ready to move on.  He's maturing more and more into Toddlerhood.  Before I know it he'll be 12 and grossed out when I say to him, "Oh my goodness, you were a nursing fiend!  You refused a bottle or pacifier, just wanted my boobs!" Like I said, it's bittersweet.  

Road Mama

You know those "Baby On Board" signs folks post in their cars?  Can I just adorn my car in those?  One doesn't seem like enough.  60 doesn't seem like enough but I'll need some space left free for visibility sake. I can't help it.  I just want crazy drivers to know that they are not only jeopardizing my life but that of The Most Amazing Boy To Ever Live with their antics.

Is it also okay if I use the "Baby On Board" signs when The Boy is older?  I've never noticed a "Toddler On Board" or "Tween On Board" but the same rules apply as he matures.  Maybe I need to invent those signs and sell em online...

While we're discussing L.A. driving, do I qualify for driving in the carpool lanes while transporting The Boy?  The rule is two people or more so why do I feel like I'm cheating if I count him as my #2?  Carpool lanes are for low level office workers who miraculously live near each other and work at the same company downtown, right?  

Maybe I just need get a "Frazzled Woman On Board" sign and be done with it.