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I'm switching publishing software and domain names. You can now find me at Adventures of an Urban Housewife. Adjust your links accordingly and then come on over for exciting adventures in Kirsten-land.

Modern Woman

I was thinking about this recently and maybe when I don't have a baby demanding all my attention, I will talk more about it, but here is a poem I wrote junior year of college. Ages ago.

Do you see me? I live, unashamedly, with my boyfriend

In a shabby apartment with two cats - I never do dishes

My hands turn bright radish red and burn when I scrub

The remnants crusting along the bottom of pots, bowls.

I learned how to knit this weekend - I've always known

I think, something ingrained in my fingers which proved

Unsuited for musical instruments, a failure at violin

Barely passable at piano, enough for a girl like me.

I was never meant to have a 4.0, never meant to go to

This school, I've been found to be unoriginal

Not remotely interesting. I was meant to make small talk with

A cocktail in one hand while my husband made business deals.

I bake cookies, brownies and muffins for fun instead of

Reading Nabokov or learning about Attitudes Based on

High Consumer Effort - I prefer to sew, knit, embroider

While watching TLC's Trading Spaces.

I think I will be a housewife when I grow up - marketing

Is not for me. I will put up with dishpan hands, clean up

After two cats and send three kids to school, hoping they will

Do something with their lives - I will become my mother.

Four Months: Addendum

Look who's eating solid foods! Day one with the baby cereal resulted mostly in stuff running out of Lorelei's mouth, but she seems to like it so far.

Four Months

Dear Lorelei,

Another month has gone by too quickly. And I know what you're going to say: of course it went by too fast, it was February and there are only twenty-eight days (twenty-nine if it's a Leap Year) in February. Well, Miss Smartypants, you are correct but that doesn't change the fact that it feels like time is speeding by at a record pace.

You've started this month out with a bang. Or should I say a scream. As in, you spent all of this afternoon and evening screaming because you got your shots today. Can we talk about how upsetting that is for poor mommy?

You've gotten so big, although you are still so small. Eleven whole pounds and one ounce, not quite double what you weighed when you were born. You can sit up now, albeit with someone or something propping you up, but you don't lean over to the side as much anymore. You can push yourself up when you're on your tummy and scoot yourself just a fraction of an inch in the direction you want to go. You've gotten so strong that you can pull your elephant toy to make it play without any help. Sometimes, I'll be sitting here typing away and I'll be surprised by the sudden music. This morning you detached your zebra (still your favorite toy) from not only the gym but also its ring.

Littlest girl, time may be going by so quickly, but there are days when it feels like you've always been here. The perfect completion of our little family. Just do me a favor and don't grow up too fast, I still like snuggling in bed with you.

Love always,

Your Mother

You Know You've Been Projecting Your Bad Mood When...

...You go to the same coffee shop (or in this case, tea room) two days in a row and the staff comments on how much more chipper you are than usual.

---

It was one of those moments that made me realize how much I just need to snap out of it. Sure, some days still suck a lot, but I've got it really good. I have a husband who not only will take over baby care for a few hours so I can relax, but actually offers. I got to go out, drink copious amounts of iced tea, eat the largest slice of devil's food cake known to man, and relax in the most comfy armchairs ever manufactured. I would seriously consider breaking in one day just so I could steal these chairs, take them home with me and then park my butt on them for all eternity.

Today, I feel better. Perhaps fueled by caffeine and a maple log from Quik Trip. Perhaps because I went to church for the first time in weeks. Perhaps because I have gotten multiple nights of halfway decent sleep in a row. Or perhaps its just because of this:

Because I am a Geek.

I think most of you have probably seen one or both (looking at you Kate!) of these, but I'm geeking out over here and had to share. Watch and enjoy.

You Say Hoosier Like It's a Bad Thing

hoosier: n. any awkward, unsophisticated person, especially a rustic.

---

I'm not sure if this is always true; but here in St Louis, you aren't a redneck, you're a hoosier. And we don't mean a person from Indiana. That's Hoosier, with a capital H.

I never claimed to be elegant and sophisticated. I enjoy a disgusting fast food hamburger as much as a nice dinner at the Melting Pot.

Okay. That's not entirely true. I enjoy the Melting Pot far more; however, there are days when only a Steakburger from Stack 'n Shack will satisfy. And I draw the line at White Castle. I will never ever eat there again after they gave me cheese fries when I asked for a Sprite. No lie. And it was gross.

But the day I realized I might be a bit of a hoosier was when we put the plastic over our windows.

The joy of living in a hundred-year old house - in addition to the fact that it leans slightly to one side - is the complete lack of insulation. Seriously. Put your hand against one of the walls and you can feel how cold it is outside. Oh and the rehabbers who did such a wonderful job (sarcasm) also didn't put up double-paned windows, they stuck with the cheap and single-paned job that has probably been up for many many years. Um, hi. We live in a city which reaches the single digits in the winter and the triple digits in the summer, are you idiots?

Well, we haven't been able to replace them yet because there were more pressing concerns - ie the cracked joists in our roof and the crumbling chimneys - but we had to come up with some sort of temporary solution so we didn't freeze in the winter or run up a ridiculous electric bill. Hence the plastic sheets. They work. Really. Unfortunately, our basement/bedroom window was too cold to adhere directly to the window itself, so it is attached to the wall. Also, unfortunately, I have dumb cats. Who tried to jump up there and punched a hole in the plastic. Did we put up a new sheet? No, we fixed it with duct tape.

Okay, maybe when we fixed it with duct tape did I realize we were a hoosiers. But that's not a bad thing. And at least Brian doesn't mow the lawn in nothing but a wife beater and jorts like our neighbor. Now that's hoosier.

A Reminder

It is worth it.

Every bad day.

Every day when it feels like I'm never going to get this right. Every day when she just cries and cries and I don't know why.

Even though her cries make my heart hurt, I know it's not (usually) my fault.

When she smiles. Or laughs. Or gurgles. Or grabs hold of me.

She is worth it.

---

And my week started out so well. I was very productive Monday morning. Went out to lunch with the hubby and then did my weekly Target run out in Brentwood. (Why am I driving twenty minutes when there are two Targets closer to my house? Because this one has a real grocery section and everything is cheaper than Schnuck's) This weeks meals were planned and purchased.

Tuesday morning was okay too. This is probably the most progress I've made on my weekly to do list in awhile. But oh dear Lord! Tuesday afternoon sucked the big one. Little peanut would not nap. She was tired. And at first I thought she was going to be real good because it only took about 15 minutes to get her calmed down for her nap; however, the second I had finished up the last few things I wanted to do and then lay down for my nap, she woke up with a vengeance. She was still tired, but no amount of coaxing would convince her to go back to sleep. So she was a whiny crankypants all afternoon and into the early evening.

And then she spent an hour and a half screaming at the top of her lungs when it was time for bed. There didn't seem to be anything wrong - no fever or anything like that - but she refused to eat and refused to be put down. I know this happens sometimes and you just have to ride it out, but I was in tears thinking I was a horrible mother.

So I'm reminding myself how much this little girl is worth it.

Because she is.

Potty Mouth

Question: What is your policy on swearing in front of your children?

---

I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the line, I became a potty mouth. There are times when I swear like a sailor on leave. I didn't use to. At least, I don't think I did. In high school, in addition to being a goody-goody straight A student, I was like the tamest, most well-behaved teenager on the planet. Or, at least, that's how I remember it, my parents may disagree. But I never swore and I would feel embarrassed when I heard other people swearing. What the shit happened?

Now, I have to make a conscious effort to not swear. I let pretty much everything else slide, but the one thing I'm trying to never say in front of my daughter is the F-word. I have slipped once or twice, when I fell out of the rocking chair and took the skin of my knee or when I got cut off by some stupid bitch on her cellphone who didn't see her exit. Those are the two most recent incidents that I can think of.

I've been told not to worry about it too much since she isn't talking yet, can't repeat what I say and doesn't even understand it yet. And while Brian hopes her first words are "demon bear", I live in fear that her first words will be "Why are you driving like a douchebag?"

I also worry that, once she's in school, she will say something along the lines of, "Two plus two is four, BITCHES!" And then we'll be called into the principal's office for a talking to. The scenario I have in my head is this: because our daughter is such a potty mouth I will have to organize a bake sale (I don't know how this relates to swearing, but my mind works in mysterious ways). Do you know what I would say?

"I will organize the shit out of a bake sale, BITCHES!"

Oh crap.

Hello March!

Apparently I'm not the only person who has a bad relationship with February.

But February is finally over and March is here! Let the rejoicing begin!

Spring is right around the corner; although, I'm sure St Louis will fuck me over with a freak snow storm in April like it usually does. And that means Spring clothes. Much as I love my sweaters, I can't wait to wear t-shirts again. I can't wait to take a brisk walk around the "lake" in Carondelet Park. I can't wait to go to the Botanical Gardens while things are blooming and go to the zoo while the animals aren't hiding from the cold.

It is time to shake off the crap that has been the first two months of this year. This is what I get to look forward to this month:

• Lorelei is four months old. FOUR! What the crap?
• Brian turns 30. THIRTY! Such an old man.
• Spring cleaning. Time to get rid off all of that stuff I don't need. Which means...

Nothing like casting off all the crap and giving the house a thorough cleaning to make you feel better. Plus, you get to help people too.

P.S. March also means baseball season is only one month away! Squee!