We're Not Cooking Cabbage Anymore

Hey you!  You over there!  Hi!

Who? Me?

Yeah, you over there!  Hello!  Hey, remember when I used to blog?

Um, no.  No, I don't remember that.  You blog?

Blogged.  Past tense.  I haven't in a really long time.  You see, I got a full time job.

Oh.  Okay...

And before that I was spending most of my time looking for a full time job.  Before that I was writing a novel as full time as I could while also raising a child full time.  I did that for quite awhile.  Well, that and sporadically posting random experiences related to the writing and child raising.  And there was a brief stint with cooking locally grown cabbage but that didn't last long.

I see.  So what kind of job did you end up with?

A job working for the same institution where I took a writing class one year ago.  I work for a writers program.  It's called Writers' Program.  And I don't have to hide my dream to finish my book.  They like that.

Wow, that's fantastic!  Congratulations!  

Thanks.

No, really, I'm so thrilled for you!  I mean, what are the odds you find a full time job with benefits that not only is in the field you love but also supportive of you accomplishing your own writing projects!

Yeah, it's real...

It's real fantastic!!!!!!!

Um, yeah, it is.

You've been working on that book and wanting to write more books and I've been sitting here wondering, "What happened to that lady who used to blog about her kid and cabbage, for god's sake?!?!  Where is she?!!"

I thought you said you didn't know I blogged?

I did?

Yes, you did.  But you're pretty happy for someone you claim to not even know blogs.

Blogged.  Past tense, remember?  


(PAUSE)


Okay, I may have looked at your blog a few times in the past.  

You did?

I did.  And I've been wondering about something-- does your kid still have wonky sleep?

Almost every night.  As much as things change, others remain the same.  And now I have to go because he's been sitting in his bed for over an hour but not falling asleep.  He's a machine.

Okay, good luck.

Thanks.

Oh and congrats again!

Thanks.

Security Detail

"Alright, nothing to see here.  Leave this Mommy alone!"

You know you've made it in Hollywood when you find it necessary to hire security detail.  You know, guards to keep adoring fans at arm's length while you make your way to the car after a night of clubbing.  Guards to be on the lookout for that crazy stalker dude who keeps trying to break into your house in The Hills.  Guards to make sure your spouse doesn't eat your sweet potato fries.

Wait...what?

My son acts as my very own security detail.  If his father puts his arm around me, Boy is immediate to point out, "No, that's mommy's!" and swats his arm away from my shoulder.  If his father attempts to eat food that Boy has deemed mine he's met with a similar response-- "No!  That's Mommy's!  You not take it!"  Mr. Jarcy bought shoes that are identical to mine (sounds weird but they're classic running shoes that a person of any age can pull off) and this threw Boy into a tailspin.  "Those are Mommy's shoes!  You take off! AHHHH!"  While most of this guarding is against Mr. Jarcy that may simply be because the three of us are together the most.  

At best, I find it flattering, comforting, protecting.  At worst, I find it... aw who am I kidding?  I mostly like it.  Lord knows, there will probably come a day when he couldn't care less about who's eating off my plate.  For now it at times feels like it's just me and him against the world.  And that may be the best part of this whole Mommyhood in Hollywood deal.     

Pigpen

The other night I attempted to bathe The Boy.  The Boy hates them lately.  I had avoided giving him one for a few nights so enough was enough.  A wash down was essential, lest he start resembling that filthy boy in Peanuts cartoons with flies hovering above his head.  (Ugh, why can't I remember that character's name right now?  Well you know who I mean right?  Boy resembled him.)

So just as predicted the bath didn't go well.  We fought throughout it's duration.

Wait a minute-- You're telling me you argued with a two and a half year old child?

Yes, I did.

Can you really have an argument with a small child like that?

I'm not sure about others but you can with mine and I did.  It went something like this--

Me:  We're going to take a bath.

Boy:  No I not take a bath!

Me:  Please sit down in the bath, Boy.

Boy:  No I not sit!

Me:  Okay, I need you to sit down now.  You're going to slip and it's scaring me.

Boy:  No!  I not sit!

Me:  Alright, then we're done with the bath.

Boy:  NO I NOT DONE IN BATH!!!

Sigh.  Something like that.  Not the most relaxing or pleasant point of our day together.  I tried to remain calm but my little empath can pick up on how I'm feeling even if I'm burying those angry feelings as best I can.  I hoisted his forty-pound, slippery body out of the tub (honestly, a large river otter would have been more manageable) and carried him off to his room to dry off.  This is where our next conversation took place--

Boy:  Mommy you not mad.

I say nothing.

Boy:  Mommy you not mad!

Me:  I am a little mad.

Boy:  No you not mad!

Me:  Honey, take it easy.  Let's just get you dressed and ready for bed.

A few moments of silence passed as I toweled him off and found jammies.  Then out of nowhere--

Boy:  Mommy, nobody take you.

Me:  What?

Boy:  Nobody take Mommy.

Me:  No, Boy, nobody take Mommy.

Boy:  Nobody take mine Mommy.  

I scooped him up and held him in my lap and we rocked back and forth for a long time.  Teary eyed, I kissed his head/cheek/forehead no less than a billion times and reassured, "No, honey, nobody take Mommy."  We rocked more.  I kissed him more.  I held him tighter.  He hugged me back.  I was no longer angry.  Just grateful.

He sounds like quite the special little boy.  Very intense, yet smart and irresistible.

He is.

You're a lucky mommy.

I am.

--
    

Boy Earning His Keep (And Apparently A Shirt)

Mind Control

Boy's home away from home-- the mall train.

I have officially lost my mind.  My son now enjoys complete and utter control of it.  Yesterday, this was more evident than ever before.  Let me explain--

Shortly after waking up, Boy asked me, "Mommy, where my Gordon and Henry go?"  Gordon and Henry are trains from Thomas and Friends, the show I love, hate, love to hate and hate to love (very complex feelings regarding Thomas and his gaggle of motorized vehicle servants who live to obey and please their human masters).

"You don't have Gordon and Henry, honey," I replied as the word SUCKER flashed atop my head.

"Mommy, I need mine own Gordon and Henry," Boy said and then followed up that declaration with a very big, "PLEASE?"

I melted.  Boy says "please" but usually only after prompting.  And he never has really asked for specific toys.  I thought back over all the purchases I'd made throughout last week for myself and his father-- new running shoes (we don't run but walk like super hard), anniversary gifts for one another, etc.  It took all of half a second for me to determine Boy MUST have Gordon and Henry ASAP.  The fact he was emphatically mentioning over and over, "Mommy I need Gordon and Henry...PLEASE?" only convinced me further.

The SUCKER sign tripled in size over my head.

And so the Gordon and Henry ordering online began.  Boy got up close to the computer screen, overseeing my work and then pointed out, "Oh, that's Bash...PLEASE?  Oh, that's Dash...PLEASE?  Ferdinand!  Mommy, that's Ferdinand...PLEASE?"

My online shopping addict within took hold.  "Don't you need more train tracks too, Boy?" Boy looked at me but didn't answer.  He didn't need to.  "Okay, I'll get those too," I said, clearly under the train spell Boy had cast.

I wish I could say this is where the story ends but it doesn't.  You see, online shopping doesn't provide immediate gratification for a two and a half year old and his requests for Gordon and Henry continued.  Not in a tantrummy way either, simply a "I get mine own Gordon and Henry!"  I knew we'd hear this until the trains would arrive two days later.  Two days could feel like two weeks.  So I canceled the Amazon order and we headed to Target.  Did I mention I had a really intense sinus pressure headache?  Well I did which may explain why I was so anxious to give him new toys to occupy his time.  I pushed through the pain, the mission to find Gordon and Henry coursing through my veins.

We found a Gordon.  We found a Henry.  We found a Percy and some more train tracks.  They were battery operated-- not the usual wooden trains we buy that Boy loves to roll back and forth, back and forth, back and forth on everything from train tracks to my leg.  (This is foreshadow right here).  But Boy was captivated by them and their voices.  "I'm Gordon!  I'm the fastest and best!"  We brought them home.

Thirty seconds after Gordon was unwrapped Boy tried his usual back and forth rolling of the train which, of course, didn't work well as Battery Powered Gordon had his own agenda to simply move forward.  "Mommy, Gordon is broken," Boy announced.  "You fix...PLEASE?!"

I fixed it by running off with the other battery operated trains and hiding them in my closet, hoping he'd forget we had brought them home.  Then I hauled ass back on to Amazon and reordered our original purchase of 5 wooden trains and then-- get this-- clicked OVERNIGHT SHIPPING on the whole order, train track set and all.

Now Boy has enjoyed Gordon for almost a day and learned how to deal with his relentless desire to move only forward.  Gordon has broken a few times and somehow recovers on his own so that Mr. Jarcy and I can simply say, "He's fixed!" and then the two of them go back to play time.  And now I sit in a coffee shop waiting very impatiently for all the other trains to arrive just so I can see that child's face light up like it's Christmas morning (and believe me, it really is like Christmas morning with how much that shit costs).  

Yep, lost my mind for sure.

But I'll tell you what-- this kid means the world to us.  And he's not a spoiled brat.  He's super cute, super funny, super energetic, super spirited.  He's not just super, he's SUPER.  He's like a million rays of sunshine that I get to bask in.  So at least I moved to Hollywood and he's got control of my mind instead of all those Scientologists.  With Boy in charge, they have no chance of snatching me up (I'm easily talked into things and fear that could easily happen).

Master and Mom Servant

Drastic Cut

We've been busy.  First off, Boy has gotten a drastic haircut courtesy of me.  Not too shabby, huh?  Secondly, we went to Chicago for a week and had a fabulous time.  Lastly, we're back in L.A. and swimming in our pool.  I'm so out of shape that after moving around for twenty minutes in our pool I was sore.  So now I'm working on a fitness regime.

But the kid's haircut is pretty great huh?!  He's such a doll...

Night Parking

Around 7:30pm this evening, I did what most parents would never do with their kids-- I took mine to the park.  As you can see above, 7:30pm is not the busiest time at a playground.

That said, there were a few other parents/grandparents/caregivers blowing time and energy with their kids.  For awhile now I've wondered if there's some sort of support group for the sleep deprived parent.  I could use one of those from time to time (often).  Well, I need to look no further-- those parents whose kids refuse to go to bed at those normal kiddie hours and/or need less sleep than an ER doctor on call are all congregated at the good ol' park after 7pm!  Now, we didn't bond per se.  Everyone is too exhausted to exert any real effort at making friends.  We're there just to exert those night owls.  It's pretty obvious the park is the LAST place we really want to be as it gets dark.  

But you know what?  I think we'll do it more often.  It's actually fantastic to be at the park when not many others are.  Boy and I took a walk and he hauled this massive stick around the track with one hand and held my hand with the other.  (Queue the tears, it was so adorable.)

We also spent a good 30 minutes swinging.  That's 30 minutes I wasn't watching a Pixar movie!!!  I love Pixar but it was more than refreshing to -- god forbid-- turn off the tv and spend an evening out of the friggin apartment.  

As we drove home around 8:30pm, I saw another mommy with a toddler boy walking the streets and while I didn't stop the car and haul her into a long embrace, I did think, "That woman knows what this is like.  Her kid doesn't sleep 'normal hours' either.  I love her."  Speaking of love-- I love this guy above.  I'll love him (and the park) even more if we have an uninterrupted night of sleep.  It's a given the park outing has exhausted me.  The Boy?  I'll know more by morning.  

My Financial Planner

"Mommy?  You know, I'm going over the receipt from our grocery store outing and I have to say you're spending waaay too much on pre-made guacamole and those new black bean chips.  Same goes for white wine, fancy bread, lifestyle magazines, room oil diffusers... Do I need to do an intervention?  Because I will.  Let's reign it in, shall we?"  

This Blows

This is how I feel today.  I'd love to just take a nap on the floor long enough for someone to come into my apartment and either burn my novel-writing endeavor or finish it once and for all.

AHHHHH!

So sick of it.  Seriously.

Where's Boy?

"I wonder if She sees me here?  Maybe I won't have to nap if She doesn't.   When will She learn that Boy is in charge of any and all sleeping in this household?  She's still not getting it."

Box Head

"La la la la la...I'm dancing with a box on my head!  Tra la la la la....I'm dancing with a box on my head.  La la la la la...  What's that Mommy?  No, I don't want to nap.  Tra la la la la...I'm dancing with a box on my head..."

Went To Vegas, Didn't Gamble Once

I went to Vegas a few weeks ago.  By myself.  No Boy, no Mr. Jarcy.  Well, that sounds depressing, now doesn't it?

But it wasn't!

I met up with a friend and we had some good girl bonding time.  Yeah!  It was my first time away from The Boy-- ever.  What I mean is EVER!  I was a little nervous.

But it was great!

That's not to say I didn't miss him (oh yeah, and that taller man I live with Mr. Jarcy), but it was nice to get away and just wander around Vegas, drink glasses of wine at 1am, drink a frozen margarita at 3pm (I swear I didn't drink that much!) and simply take in the spectacle that is known as Las Vegas.

What a dirty/crazy/rather appealing place!

The drive there just wasn't the most exciting at times.  But I was looking forward to venturing further than an hour from my home out here, which is something I had not done ever.  We're certainly not in Illinois anymore.  And while I don't think I'd want to live in Las Vegas, it was fun to go and now that I have I'm ready to go again.  In spite of it being Las Vegas.  (If you've been there I think you'll understand that statement.)

Open Another Landfill For The Jarcy Diaper Collection, Please

"So I use this potty chair thingy to watch 'The Backyardigans' on Nick, Jr. right?  I thought so."  

Pretzel Napping

"Well, this doesn't look comfortable to my mother, especially since there's an entire crib to spread out in.  But I'm asleep and seem to be digging it all wedged up against the crib's side so Pretzel Nap it is!"

Riveting Post Here!

"Mommy and Daddy sometimes let me take an improvised nap on the floor because when I nap more than thirty minutes in my cozy crib I have a tendency to stay up til midnight.  They're idiots though because I like to stay up til midnight no matter what they attempt in controlling my sleep habits!  I won't be tamed!  I'm loved regardless."

If you asked my old talent agent, Peter, why I haven't been blogging nearly as much as I used to he would respond with, "I don't know what to tell you... (insert long pause here)...I really don't."

I had asked him what I could do to increase my chances in auditioning more -- back when I dabbled with auditioning in Chicago -- and that was his answer.  That he didn't know.  He didn't seem to be in a very good place though.  I'm sure he was wondering what he was doing as a talent agent in Chicago at the time because shortly thereafter he quit and moved on to something else.  I don't know what, only that I saw him on the el train headed back up north after a day downtown.

I was so pissed when he replied with that "I don't know what to tell you" BS... but I quote him constantly.  And that's the only reply I have to not blogging.  I just don't know what to tell you other than I am utterly consumed with writing this 300 pages or so fictional book.  And right now I am avoiding that endeavor as if it is the plague so now I can blog.  Lucky you!

Here are random bits I have to share.  It's focused on life in California for those of you don't live elsewhere, mainly back home in the Midwest.

1.  I cannot tell you how many cars in L.A. fall under the category of luxury vehicle.  It is insane.  Yesterday, I counted at least three corvettes as I drove to my casting office gig.  Then I counted about a thousand Audis, BMWs, Mercedes, Jaguars, Bentleys, Rolls Royces and Lexus (how do you pluralize Mercedes and Lexus? Huh.)  Now I'm not from rural Dakota-- I am accustomed to nice cars.  But nothing prepares you for the wealth driving around L.A. except a summer spent in the Hamptons I imagine.  It's nutso.

2.  I cannot tell you how mini Mini Me from the Austin Powers movies is in real life.  He is smaller than The Boy.  And he's also got the acting resume that rivals DeNiro, Pacino and Clooney combined.  Talk about finding your niche.

3.  I cannot tell you how one stays living in L.A. knowing full well an earthquake could hit at any point. I'm living on a damn fault line for god's sake!

4.  I cannot tell you how I will have health insurance in a year.

5.  I cannot tell you if this book I'm writing will get published.  I get pretty sick of it and if I am there's a good chance a publisher will too.

Here's what I can tell you-- No matter what happens I wouldn't trade moving out here for anything.  I've learned so much about myself, showbiz, my relationships with others and life in general simply from taking a HUGE leap of faith and relocating to L.A.  It's not easy (and by that I mean OH MY GOD THIS IS NOT EASY!) but we did what our guts told us we needed to do to make dreams come true.  I don't always sleep well at night but that's more with worrying about an earthquake as opposed to the choice we've made.  And that feels good.

Take that old talent agent, Peter.  If he could see that awkward and naive young actor now... (well, I don't think he'd have much of an opinion in all honesty, but you see where I'm going with this).

Okay, back to work!

Just The Facts

Mr. Jarcy play-doh cat originals.  Circa February 2011, commissioned by The Boy

So yesterday I kinda got my credit and debit cards stolen.  By kinda I mean I did.  Then "I" went to the nearest Target store and bought a $900 iPad.  By "I" I mean a man impersonating me.

Let me explain further...

I went to my Starbuck's.  The place I consider my office and am most creative.  It's a fun place.  I see a variety of the same familiar faces, some famous, some not at all famous and many aspiring to be famous (that last part is a guess but you'd agree if you saw them).

Which brings me to the man sitting behind me yesterday.

You see, he didn't necessarily strike me as the grande carmel macchiato type.  Or even just a straight on venti bold roast type.  He was more of the borderline heroin addict type.  That's not to say heroin addicts don't hang out at Starbuck's, but I remember having this initial reaction to him of "Huh, he seems out of place."

And then I told myself to not be judgmental, took a seat near him and --wait for it-- OPENED MY BAG BIG AND WIDE SO THAT HE COULD STEAL MY CREDIT AND DEBIT CARDS OUT OF MY WALLET!!!

Sigh...

He was oh so friendly to me before, during and after that breach in proper behavior though.  He even gave me his seat near the wall so that my computer could be plugged in and wished me a good rest of my day.

BECAUSE HE KNEW I WASN'T GONNA HAVE A GOOD REST OF MY DAY!

An hour later my bank calls to see if I meant to purchase the $961 from Target.  I say "No, lemme get my cards out."  And the cards are, OF COURSE, gone.  As I continue to talk to the bank rep I begin to get real, real, real paranoid that it was someone who's still somewhere around me.  Or the man calling from New York state as a bank representative.  I begin asking him bizarre questions like "Who is this really?"  Yes, I really did.  Then I tell the writer who is sitting behind me now the whole story --and who I see in Starbuck's daily-- and out of nowhere say to him, "You didn't steal my cards...did you?"  If an adorable kitten had tottled in the store I would have suspected her too.

I ran home and cancelled all my cards.  And then freaked out more.

Which brings me to the Van Nuys Police Department.  Let me start off by saying the officers were very kind.  Let me finish by saying YOU DON'T WANT TO SPEND YOUR FRIDAY NIGHT AT THE VAN NUYS POLICE DEPARTMENT.  Many criminals gettin sprung right before the weekend when I imagined they would be partaking in more illegal activity and finding their way back to jail.  Much like a homing pigeon-- released out into the wild, does his job then comes right back to roost and rest up for his next journey out.  My favorite criminal was the man who very nonchalantly announced to whoever he was talking to on the phone, "Yeah man, it's me.  So I just got out of jail.  Yeah, just now.  Hey, how are you?"  He said it like I would tell a friend after leaving a yoga class.  Almost zen and carefree like.  By almost I mean completely.

By the end of the day I was exhausted.  And still paranoid.  I asked Mr. Jarcy, "Are you somehow behind this?  Did you hire a 'hit' on me just so I'd curb my spending habits?  I'm not convinced your clean."  I was joking, of course.  I think.  It DEFINITELY could have been worse.  My boys are safe, I am safe and now I have to blog BECAUSE I CAN'T SHOP FOR A HUMIDIFIER ONLINE!

Damn You, 98! (Keep Going)

"My mother fancies herself an author.   That's fine but she better keep careful watch.  I'm likely to jump out this window as one of my many daredevil tricks if she's not watching with BOTH eyes at all times."  

So I have written 98 pages to my first novel.  That's right, I said first novel.  I've got big plans because I really don't want to work in an office again unless I've exhausted all creative employement attempts first.  Here's what I can tell you--  If you find yourself getting to 50 pages or so written of a book, then you might as well keep on going until you reach somewhere around 300.  That's my well thought out plan anyway.  And, no, it's not taking in all the other steps one must pass through to become a published author.  If I thought of all that I'd never get past page 1.

I have been toiling away (er, by toiling I mean writing) this week, slowly but surely increasing my page count and yet seem to be stuck under the 100 mark.  This flirtation with 100 has to end as of tomorrow!  It must.  I can't take it.  It's time for 100 to give up his goods to me.

For some reason I had the thought that I could DOUBLE my pages by the end of the week.  This notion proves how naive and ridiculous I still am, even at the mature age of (insert old lady age here).  Hilarious.

The Boy's Birthday Gathering Almost Two Weeks Ago..

ME:  Honey, we're gonna sing Happy Birthday to you inside!

BOY:  No.

ME:  But Mommy brought cupcakes!  Don't you want a cupcake?

BOY:  Mommy?

ME:  Yes?

BOY:  Look!  Dinosaurs!  

ME:  Yes, you have dinosaurs.

BOY:  A PINK dinosaur!  A GREEN dinosaur!

ME:  Okay, I'll come back...

ME:  Honey, all the other kids are eating cupcakes now.  Wanna come in for a cupcake?

BOY:  No.

ME:  Are you sure?  Mommy would like to go inside and eat a cupcake too!  Or perhaps several.

BOY:  Mommy?

ME:  Yes?

BOY:  Mommy!  I drive!

ME:  Yes, you're driving the, er, swing set, aren't you? 

BOY:  Mommy, dinosaur!

ME:  Okay, I'll come back...

BOY:  Mommy?
ME:  Yes?
BOY:  Mommy!  A CUP CAKE!

Buried

My loved ones back in Chicago are digging themselves out of the Great Blizzard of 2011.  I am nowhere near Chicago but digging in similar fashion.

I seem to have become buried under my belongings.  And thoughts.  And addiction to buying my child everything I see.

I could give explanation to the above statement but let's give a shorthand version--
Mr. Jarcy went away for a long time for work back in January and it has been very difficult for me to get back into the writing swing. I'm battling thoughts like, "WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?!  WHY AM I SPENDING SO MUCH TIME WRITING THIS NOVEL WHEN I WILL THEN HAVE TO WORK MY ASS OFF TO GET IT PUBLISHED AND EVEN THEN PROBABLY ONLY GET $10,000 FOR ALL MY HARD WORK!!!???!?!?!"

You know, I should probably just stop with the explanation right there.

You may have noticed I'm not blogging nearly as much as well.  I start to type something and then battle thoughts like, "WHY AM I SPENDING SO MUCH TIME WRITING THIS BLOG WHEN JUST ABOUT EVERYONE ON THE PLANET EXPERIENCES THE SAME THINGS AT SOME POINT ALONG THE LINE AND THEY REALLY DON'T NEED MY PLAY BY PLAY OF THE VERY NORMAL, DAILY OCCURRENCES NOW DO THEY REALLY????!!!!?"

So, uh, yeah...that explanation probably just stands on its own as well.

Suffice it to say, the inner turmoil documented above then leads to one predominant thought which is, "YOU BETTER GET MOVING ON THIS WRITING, WOMAN, BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T YOU'RE WASTING THIS PERFECTLY GREAT OPPORTUNITY YOU HAVE LIVING OUT HERE NOW AND WHILE YOUR CHILD IS SMALL AND LIFE ISN'T ALL THAT COMPLICATED BESIDES YOU MOVED FAR, FAR, FAR AWAY FROM YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AND YOU DON'T WANT TO HAVE DONE THAT JUST SO YOU COULD GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS AND MIMIC A SLUG ON YOUR IKEA SOFA NOW DO YOU??????!!!?!?!!!!!"

I better just keep shoveling.

12:26 AM, Take Three

This Boy is now officially two years old.  Two.  TWO!  Can you believe it?  I can't.  It feels like he's been around forever and so much has changed since his birth that I'm like, "He's only two?"  Then I look at him again and think, "My baby is now two?  How did that happen?"

It's all very strange.

Now he looks like this...

Unbelievable.  

Happy Birthday, Boy!!!  We love you!

Out With The Old, In With The Toddler Gear

"I hope Mommy and Daddy realize I'm not actual laundry.  They've been busy cleaning and organizing our apartment.  Mommy says we have to make room for all the gifts coming my way next week when I turn 2."  

Day 1 Of Nonstop Boy Party

First Night and Partial Day 1 of Single Parenting:

Around midnight, block front door with baby trike so that if someone breaks into our place they will stumble over that first and give us a fighting chance.  (Lordy, could I be any more dramatic?)

Sleep sporadically throughout the night.  Get up to check Boy from video monitor or actual visit into the room several times.  (Why more often when his father is away I have no idea.)

Wake up to Boy chatting with his toys in his crib at 7:30am.  (And thank the universe above that he slept through the night for the second night in a row.)

Make breakfast, play, change into clothes. (Alright so just a t-shirt and diaper, not full outfit.)

Get instructed by Boy to watch "Woody" and "Buzz."  Turn on Toy Story 3 that I purchased from our cable last night.  (Was it for him to watch or me?  We both enjoyed.)

Get instructed by Boy to stop watching "Woody" and "Buzz" and now to watch "Thomas."  Turn on Thomas video.  (Definitely for Boy's enjoyment, not mine.)

Get instructed by Boy to take walk. (YES!  Finally!  After several attempts to get out and put pants on him I have an opening.)

Discover poop affixed to my child's foot.  From him?  From cat?  WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?  (Still haven't figured that out unfortunately.)

Wander the neighborhood hand in hand.  (My all time favorite activity in life.  Ever.)

Lunch.  (PB and J for the billionth time for him, spicy fake chicken buffalo wings for first time for me.)

Nap.  (For him.  Blogging, reading and zoning out --mostly zoning out-- for me.)

It's only 2pm...  THE AFTERNOON IS OUR OYSTER!!!  (Not really, we're headed to 24 month check up with Dr. later this afternoon, followed by cocktails shortly thereafter I imagine.)

And now, the world is all caught up on the exciting ongoings of Boy and Mama... YOU'RE WELCOME!

Death By Thomas

My son loves Thomas the Train.  So so so so much.  He loves Thomas so much that he took him sledding while we were in Chicago for the holidays.  (Refer to Exhibit A above.)  He also loves his Giki (the giraffe blanket) as you can see above as well.

Now the blanket isn't too much of a bother when we're at home.  He doesn't take him out into the world usually (although we're going to the Dr. tomorrow and Giki will DEFINITELY be joining us).  Thomas the Train and all his train, bus, tractor and other modes of transportation friends, however, are a different story.

I have a love/hate relationship with all them these days.

One the one hand I love them.  They're pretty harmless and make my child extremely happy.  And when he plays with the trains and track set he owns it's no bother to me.

It's the videos that are getting to me.  The Boy is addicted to Thomas videos.  The moment he wakes up he's talking about Thomas videos.  He requests Thomas video viewing.  Moments after finishing up an hour of Thomas he will request to watch more.  We'll watch videos we own, videos we can "On Demand" from the cable for free and videos we can purchase from cable for a day's worth of viewing.  We go to a friends house and we all watch more Thomas.  Up until the time he goes to bed at night he will want to watch Thomas.

His viewing of Thomas and Friends reached such epic proportions that Mr. Jarcy and I found ourselves humming/singing Thomas theme songs throughout the day.  I'm also grappling with existential Thomas questions like, "Who's really in charge--the trains or the drivers?" and "Was Thomas ever a baby?  If so, how did he come to be?" There are all these discrepancies like some buses and boats have faces (and therefore souls?) while others do not.  

I was even waking from sound, deep sleep in the middle of the night with those theme songs affixed to my brain.  They're two, they're four, they're six, they're eight...shunting trucks and hauling freight...red and green and brown and blue...they're The Very Useful Crew...Thomas!  He's the cheeky one...James!  He's vain but lots of fun!...

Once the song takes hold it won't let go.

I'm single parenting this week.  Mr. Jarcy has found work elsewhere leaving me and The Boy alone.  I'm going to get us out as much as I can muster with an active toddler but since The Boy doesn't nap much anymore I'm guessing Thomas videos will be making a strong showing this week.  Maybe Mama can rest her eyes while he watches from time to time (often)...

(Jeez, the fact this post is the longest I've written in ages acts as proof that Thomas has taken over my life.)

Complimentary Productivity

"Mother, Thomas the train and these little people figurines say I need a haircut!"

I've secured a new writing space, which thankfully, does not double as our master bath (although I do come up with creative ideas any time I go in there, it's kinda weird).

The cafe just steps from our apartment closed back in December, leaving me workspaceless and in utter despair.  So where does any person needing a cheap office type space infused with not so cheap beverages head to?

Starbucks, of course.

So far it's going very well.  I've gotten a lot of writing done.  Even more importantly, I've been told I have not only great hair but also great skin by perfect strangers.  I've gabbed with another stranger about her dissertation and overheard the most interesting conversations ever.

In a nutshell, I LOVE it.  And considering there is a steady line for coffee throughout the day--often times practically out the door-- I don't have to worry about my office, er cafe, closing anytime soon.

A Perfect 10 Under Our Belt, Now On To 11

Hello internet!

I took an unintentional hiatus from reporting life as Mrs. Jarcy.  I was too busy living in Chicago for 10 days with Boy and Mr. Jarcy.  We saw lots of our family and not lots of our friends.  Boo!  I'm used to being the one still living at home (Chicago area I mean) and friends couldn't always connect when they came home to visit family.  Now I'm one of them.  Boo!

We enjoyed snow as you can see from above.  We ate a ton.  We managed to fly across the country and back with our sanity relatively intact.  It was really nice.  The best part being Boy got to spend so much time with his doting family members.

Now we're back, the sun is out after days of (more) rain and I have a book to write.  Boo!  I've seen a slew of B-D list celebrities out and about, and life has resumed in L.A. for the Jarcys...

Happy New Year, everyone!  Here's to making 2011 the very best!