Another List
'Cause I'm a list floozy.
5 Things I Want But Don't Have:
1. A belt. Dude, my pants are falling down. I didn't notice this before I got pregnant, and I don't think I'm smaller than I used to be; my hips certainly ain't. That a certain little boy spends a lot of time hanging off the legs of my jeans could be a factor. That + gravity = droopy-pants-mama.
2. A dissertation topic. I wish I could just skip all the work of preliminary research and just know what to do for my final project. Then I could slam through it and be done by the end of the summer. Usually I enjoy that process of slogging through recordings and browsing articles and the like (NERD ALERT! NERD ALERT!), but this degree has dragged on long enough.
3. Enough yarn and time to make myself a sweater. It's getting downright cold up here, and I haven't made a sweater for myself since I was in high school. Unfortunately, I have several other things to finish first, I don't have enough of anything in my stash for an adult sweater, I don't want to purchase more yarn until I use up more of what I already have, and I don't have a lot of time to knit as it is, so this probably won't happen. I have a few warm and woolly sweaters, but they're all gigantic. Comfy? Yes. Attractive? Not so much. Come to think of it, "comfy and unattractive" describes most of my clothes now...
4. A camera phone. We already have a nice camera, so I know it's silly. But they're just so cool. What can I say? I'm a bit of a magpie.
5. A really good recipe for tamales. I've never made them, but I want to. Anyone care to share?
5 Things I Have But Don't Want:
1. Our can-opener. It's the hand-crank kind that makes your thumbs cramp and leaves a jagged edge around the rim. This can-opener doesn't even work unless you turn it at a bizarre angle. Despite receiving several tutorials from Stuart on The Proper Use of Our Craptastic Can-Opener, I am somehow incapable of using it properly and end up with lids I have to twist and force off at my own peril. One of these days we should really pony up the $10 to buy a new one.
2. The book 25 Things Every New Mother Should Know by Martha and William Sears. A very well-meaning person gave this to me at a baby shower about a year ago. Now, where do I start with this one? Let's see. Is it the part where Mrs. Sears lays on the guilt about mothers who go back to work? Is it the part where she suggests that a new mother, if she must work (heavy sigh) find a job in a daycare center so she can bring her baby with her? Is it the part where she suggests that fathers don't have as good parental instincts as mothers? Is it the part where Mr. (oh, sorry, Dr.) Sears chips in to say that one way fathers can be just so very helpful is to make sure the new mama has time to take a shower once in a while? Is it the part where they try and convince you that breastfeeding and co-sleeping until your kid is three or four or five is guaranteed to make your child secure and not at all emotionally manipulative? Give. Me. A. Freaking. Break.
3. Class notes from every music history course I've taken at UW. I should probably hang onto these in case I ever teach a music history course, which I hope to do someday. But it's soooo tempting to chuck them all into the recycling bin. Or burn them on a pyre.
4. Nursing bra pads. Sadly, even though I don't want these I have to keep them because nearly ten months after giving birth I'm still leaking. TMI? Deal.
5. A stack of Dilbert cartoon books that used to be bathroom reading material. Now that special place on the back of the toilet is reserved for The Onion.
5 Things I Don't Want and Don't Have:
1. Mom Jeans. You know what I'm talking about: those high-waisted fashion monstrosities with pleats in the front and tapered ankles that wouldn't even look good on Heidi Klum (probably). I already have a Mom Haircut and have mysteriously lost my ability to match colors (you should've seen the two greens I put together the other day...frightening) but even I know better than Mom Jeans.
2. A spinning wheel. A lot of knitters like to spin yarn. I've never even been tempted. I guess it's because I know it would take lots of time and money and clutter to get good enough to spin anything worth knitting with, and I'd rather just usethat time and money and clutter on yarn to knit something nice out of nice yarn. Because the knitting part? I'm pretty good at that.
3. A back yard play gym, the kind made out of plastic in primary colors. Click here to see a variety. I hate tacky plastic shit, and I hate it even more when it's cluttering up people's yards. If Daniel wants to go on the slide, we'll just walk to the park.
4. A bread machine. Because if you don't get in there with your bare hands, it doesn't count as homemade bread.
5. A dog. I'm just not a dog person. Daniel really likes dogs, though. He gets really excited and kicks his legs and grins whenever he sees a dog, or whenever we read him books that feature dogs (we have several) or whenever someone makes doggie noises, like "arf arf" or "woof!" or "aaaaaaaaooooooooooo!" This could be a problem.
5 Things I Want But Don't Have:
1. A belt. Dude, my pants are falling down. I didn't notice this before I got pregnant, and I don't think I'm smaller than I used to be; my hips certainly ain't. That a certain little boy spends a lot of time hanging off the legs of my jeans could be a factor. That + gravity = droopy-pants-mama.
2. A dissertation topic. I wish I could just skip all the work of preliminary research and just know what to do for my final project. Then I could slam through it and be done by the end of the summer. Usually I enjoy that process of slogging through recordings and browsing articles and the like (NERD ALERT! NERD ALERT!), but this degree has dragged on long enough.
3. Enough yarn and time to make myself a sweater. It's getting downright cold up here, and I haven't made a sweater for myself since I was in high school. Unfortunately, I have several other things to finish first, I don't have enough of anything in my stash for an adult sweater, I don't want to purchase more yarn until I use up more of what I already have, and I don't have a lot of time to knit as it is, so this probably won't happen. I have a few warm and woolly sweaters, but they're all gigantic. Comfy? Yes. Attractive? Not so much. Come to think of it, "comfy and unattractive" describes most of my clothes now...
4. A camera phone. We already have a nice camera, so I know it's silly. But they're just so cool. What can I say? I'm a bit of a magpie.
5. A really good recipe for tamales. I've never made them, but I want to. Anyone care to share?
5 Things I Have But Don't Want:
1. Our can-opener. It's the hand-crank kind that makes your thumbs cramp and leaves a jagged edge around the rim. This can-opener doesn't even work unless you turn it at a bizarre angle. Despite receiving several tutorials from Stuart on The Proper Use of Our Craptastic Can-Opener, I am somehow incapable of using it properly and end up with lids I have to twist and force off at my own peril. One of these days we should really pony up the $10 to buy a new one.
2. The book 25 Things Every New Mother Should Know by Martha and William Sears. A very well-meaning person gave this to me at a baby shower about a year ago. Now, where do I start with this one? Let's see. Is it the part where Mrs. Sears lays on the guilt about mothers who go back to work? Is it the part where she suggests that a new mother, if she must work (heavy sigh) find a job in a daycare center so she can bring her baby with her? Is it the part where she suggests that fathers don't have as good parental instincts as mothers? Is it the part where Mr. (oh, sorry, Dr.) Sears chips in to say that one way fathers can be just so very helpful is to make sure the new mama has time to take a shower once in a while? Is it the part where they try and convince you that breastfeeding and co-sleeping until your kid is three or four or five is guaranteed to make your child secure and not at all emotionally manipulative? Give. Me. A. Freaking. Break.
3. Class notes from every music history course I've taken at UW. I should probably hang onto these in case I ever teach a music history course, which I hope to do someday. But it's soooo tempting to chuck them all into the recycling bin. Or burn them on a pyre.
4. Nursing bra pads. Sadly, even though I don't want these I have to keep them because nearly ten months after giving birth I'm still leaking. TMI? Deal.
5. A stack of Dilbert cartoon books that used to be bathroom reading material. Now that special place on the back of the toilet is reserved for The Onion.
5 Things I Don't Want and Don't Have:
1. Mom Jeans. You know what I'm talking about: those high-waisted fashion monstrosities with pleats in the front and tapered ankles that wouldn't even look good on Heidi Klum (probably). I already have a Mom Haircut and have mysteriously lost my ability to match colors (you should've seen the two greens I put together the other day...frightening) but even I know better than Mom Jeans.
2. A spinning wheel. A lot of knitters like to spin yarn. I've never even been tempted. I guess it's because I know it would take lots of time and money and clutter to get good enough to spin anything worth knitting with, and I'd rather just usethat time and money and clutter on yarn to knit something nice out of nice yarn. Because the knitting part? I'm pretty good at that.
3. A back yard play gym, the kind made out of plastic in primary colors. Click here to see a variety. I hate tacky plastic shit, and I hate it even more when it's cluttering up people's yards. If Daniel wants to go on the slide, we'll just walk to the park.
4. A bread machine. Because if you don't get in there with your bare hands, it doesn't count as homemade bread.
5. A dog. I'm just not a dog person. Daniel really likes dogs, though. He gets really excited and kicks his legs and grins whenever he sees a dog, or whenever we read him books that feature dogs (we have several) or whenever someone makes doggie noises, like "arf arf" or "woof!" or "aaaaaaaaooooooooooo!" This could be a problem.
Comments
BTW: those music history notes? Recycle 'em now and save yourself the grief. I told myself I'd use my old class notes someday too...but have never once, in 9 years of college teaching, looked at them. In the meantime they just suck up moisture in the basement and smell funky. Ditch 'em. When you teach a music history course, you'll choose a book (perhaps like me - blindly) and organize your course from that.
-Roy