Fat Cat

I have a lovable kitty named Austin, who BMI is probably around 100. This isn't a problem for me, since I see who he is on the inside and love him for who is he. Plus, I think fat cats are freaking adorable.

Unfortunately, my vet doesn't share my views, and every year I have to receive a lecture on how my cat is morbidly obese and I'm not doing enough to help him lose weight.

In my defense, I have put in the minimum effort. I changed his food to a formula with a lower fat content, but that's about it. I have another, skinny kitty, a dog, a baby, a job, and a house to maintain, so my cat's weight issues aren't exactly on the top of my priority list.

Besides, I really think Austin should take some responsibility for his weight-loss. If all he wants to do is lay in the patch of dirt that is currently my backyard, what can I do about it? The last I heard, people tend to look down on strapping cats to treadmills, so if he doesn't want to exercise, I can't make him.

I just got a postcard from my vet reminding me that it's time to take the kitties in to a checkup. I'm already starting to stress out because I don't want to be guilted about Austin again, and I'm sure he's fatter than last time, so I can't even use the excuse that I'm working on it.

Maybe I should just say, "Look, I'm trying to lose my excess fat, let me get that taken care of and I'll get back to you on the cat. How about that?"

Gardening FAIL

I dream of having a garden - a lush outdoor oasis with bright flowers, towering fronds, maybe even an ornamental pear tree gracing me with luscious fruit. I'd like a vegetable garden too, overflowing with such an abundance that I am constantly giving away fruits and vegetables until my neighbors say, "Enough, Meghan! We can't take any more of your bounty."

Unfortunately for me and my bounty, I really stink at gardening.

I've tried starting off small, first with house plants. Over and over again, I've prided myself on keeping a plant alive, only to have it die in my arms, gasping it's last breath as I cry, "Why, why?"

My first triumph was keeping an ivy alive for over a year. Ivies are supposed to be hearty plants, but then one day it started becoming sickly, so naturally I upped it's water intake. Then it started dying faster, so I decreased it's water intake. Apparently, decreased it to the point of drought, and it turned into dust and blew away.

My second triumph was keeping alive a potted palm Taylor bought me for Christmas two years ago. It lasted one year, and then got infected with red mites and started spitting out sap all over my floors and walls. I tried everything to get rid of the mites, but all I got was a sadder palm and a sticker floors. Finally, I decided to put the palm out of it's misery by letting it be euthanised by the winter elements.

Red mites also attacked my peace lilly, given to me as a house warming present, and grubs killed off my dollar tree.

Nevertheless, I decided to press on and start an herb garden, in a pot, where I could keep a close eye on it, once I got growing herb under my belt, could start a more ambitious outdoor garden. My first attempt to grow seeds I germinated them in egg cartons so I could transfer them when they were bigger, only to have the soil dry out and the seeds shriveled. My second attempted ended when I left the pot outdoors too long and an unanticipated frost killed my seedlings. My 3rd go was not a charm, because even as my seedling grew, they are now under attacked by little flies, who even as we speak are laying their grubby little eggs and eating my roots. I tried to get rid of them by spraying some vinegar and water on the plants. This succeeded only in causing the plants to whither - the flies seems to be as active as ever.

I'm quite discouraged, and an considering giving up and only planting silk flowers in my front yard. At least they'll never leave me.

Company Logos

I designed some logos for the company I'm working for, Winthrop Square Real Estate Group. They mentioned wanting to become eventually known as just "Winthrop Group" so I designed the logos around that. They haven't actually chosen one yet, but I hope they might like one!

How to Write a Nicholas Sparks Novel

Caleb Pictures

Caleb in his new bouncer.

Chilling on the couch.

Wearing a silly hat.

Playing in the snow - in a manner of speaking.

Sleeping through the Night

We put Caleb in his crib in his own room for the first time. Ever since we got back from vacation, we've had trouble getting him to sleep through the night, but we hoped that with a dark room and less noise from us, he'd at least make it until 4:00 a.m.

He stuck to his normal schedule, waking up every couple hours. I had the extra trouble of nursing him in the rocking chair instead of laying him next to me in bed.

It was miserable. At four in the morning I'm sitting in the chair, rocking him and crying, wondering why he won't sleep, begging him to go back to sleep, and feeling like a terrible, terrible mother. Parenting at night is so much harder than during the day. Sitting there in the darkness and the silence I'm faced with my ugliest side - the resentment, the frustration, the impatience. Everything that is the opposite of what my child needs from me. He finally quiets enough to where I feel safe enough to put him down in his crib.

I crawl back into bed, where Taylor is there, softly comforting me, telling me I'm a good mommy, how I try so hard and Caleb is so lucky. But in the moment I don't feel like he's lucky. Surely there was someone more loving, more patient, that could handle all-nighters with grace and serenity.

Taylor holds me until he falls asleep, while I lay awake worry about the baby, wondering if he was too warm under all his blankets, wondering if I should go in an check on him, maybe remove a layer because SIDS can be caused by being overheated. I tell myself he's fine, to go to sleep, but the nagging voice won't go away.

I creep into Caleb's room, and look down at his sleeping form. I take off the extra blanket and place my hand on his tummy, feeling it's rhythmic movement, up, down, up, down. I stroke his cheek and whisper, "I love you." I know he's going to be fine.

Back to bed again. Taylor woke to my movement and knew that I went to check on the baby. "I told you you were a good mother," he whispers to me.

Later, the baby cries again, another feeding, back to bed. We wake on final time to daylight. Taylor goes to work, and I lay in bed with the baby. We're both smiling at each other. That's the beauty of the morning. A new beginning, a new chance to start over, and another day to prepare for the night.

Best Decade Ever

I don't know whether 2000-2009 is considered an official decade, but it feels like it and for the purpose of this post I'm going to go with it.

I was talking with Taylor how this will probably be the most significant decade of my life, considering how many major life events were clumped into these past ten years.

A few weeks before 2000, I turned 16, and with typical adolescent arrogance was

convinced that I reached the perfect

age in which the contend with the coming Armageddon, Y2K. Thankfully, the world didn't shut down and the only blow back from Y2K we experienced was eating through Mom's stockpile of canned goods.

That year I got my first boyfriend and my driver's license.

In 2002 I graduated high school and started college, where I met my future husband my first week.

In 2004 I got engaged and spent the whole year planning my

wedding. I also spent the summer living with my best friend's parents, Delores and Kerbe Lee, while I interned at a newspaper in

Columbia, Tenn.

In 2005 I graduated college, got married, and moved into my first apartment, becoming a fully independent adult.

In 2006 Taylor and I moved to Quincy, Mass. where we lived in an underground shoebox also

known as a "ground-level studio."

In 2007 we upgraded to a 3rd story apartment in a 3-family minutes from the ocean and got our first dog, Morgan.

In 2008 we bought our first house and have spent most of our

spare time and money fixing it up since.

In 2009 we had out first baby, Clifton Caleb Plott, and nothing's been the same since!

I don't know what the next decade will bring, but it will be hard to top this one.

Raspberry Razors

I just bought a pack of lady razors, and saw that they are now NEW! With Raspberry Scent! I can't tell you how many times I've shaved my arms and thought "Gee, I sure wish this razor gave off the whiff of berries." Thank goodness some genius finally put the two together.

Guilt Complex

If you think your parents gave you a guilt complex, it is only because you yourself gave them one when you were still in the womb.

When I was pregnant, I fretted over every little thing. It didn't help that my pregnancy was complicated by high blood pressure and a less than ideal work place. I was told monitor the baby's movements three times a day, and if he wasn't as active as last time, I had to come to the doctor to be tested right away.

You can imagine, being given this sort of imperative, that I became extremely paranoid, and monitored every single movement of both the baby and myself. I would cry to Taylor that I didn't feel the baby move right at 11:00 am on the dot and that it must have been the result of me taking Sudafed the night before, or maybe it was the fish I ate for lunch, or perhaps being exposed to gamma rays from my computer. Whatever the cause, the end result was my baby had been damaged and it was my fault; I ruined him forever.

I was so relieved and grateful to have a normal, healthy baby boy. This relief lasted no longer than 24 hours when the following morning I completely failed at my attempts to breastfeed, and had to give my screaming infant a bottle of formula in order to calm him down. This was it: he'll never take to the breast again, I'd have to buy him formula and he'll be less smart and healthy than his peers; I ruined him forever.

After Caleb's tummy got full and I got a lesson from the lactation consultant, breastfeeding went smoothly and he gained four pounds between leaving the hospital and his first visit to the pediatrician. "Well," she had said, "No failure to thrive here."

Such words should have given me comfort, helped me relax, but once again we're going through another set of trials and I'm convinced I'm must be doing something wrong. Naturally, if I don't fix this right away, I'm going to ruin him forever.

Caleb, or The Baby Prince, as I affecionately refer to him when he's being demanding, is going through another growth spurt and is eating so much I can hardly keep up with him. It doesn't help that he inherited his mother's flair for the dramatic - you'd think he was starving to death from the way he carries on when he's hungry.

In order to help him stay fuller longer at night, we decided to try some rice cereal. I thought this was an excellanet solution, until I pulled down my copy of What to Expect during the First Year (which really should be called: Everything You're Doing Wrong during the First Year and how You're Ruining Your Child Forever) and read that giving cereal was the wrong thing to do, because then I'll stop producing enough milk to meet his demand, thus requiring more suplemental feedings, which will further reduce my milk supply, and so the cycle goes.

Engulfed in another cloud of worry and guilt, I talked to my mother who told me she gave my older brother Pete rice cereal in his bottle to help him sleep through the night as well. In spite of this, Pete turned out to be an intelligent, witty, and successful adult, certainly not ruined in anyway (except perhaps a tendency to dress up as Captain Kirk). I realized that we mothers do the best we can, and for the most part, our kids turn out just fine. And when I look at Caleb's sweet, gummy smile, I know that one day he's going to be grown and successful and wracked with guilt over all the grief he caused me. Thus the circle will be complete.

From 12_10_09

Year in Review

I haven't been writing much because I like to write about interesting/humorous things going on in my life, but for the past year much of my life has been consumed with being pregnant and now being a mommy, and there's only so much you can write about both topics before they start to become monotonous to both the writer and the reader.

I do love being home with my little boy and seeing his sweet, gummy smile. It strange to think just little over a year ago he was conceived. While Taylor and I rang in the New Year, he was growing in the secret, quiet place in my womb. It amazes me how quickly I grew to love him, and how, after only being in my life as a person for three months, I can't imagine my life without. It's opened up a whole new world of joy and fear.

Around this time last year I was busy on the job search, having been laid off from my job as a personal assistant in Cambridge just before Thanksgiving. It was during that last two weeks of Janurary '09 that I started work at Servpro, only to find out two weeks later that I was pregnant.

The church of which I am apart, and the whole reason I'm here in Boston in the first place, went through some difficult changes. A vital couple chose to move back to Texas, and while in the end we supported their decision, the group's dynamics have changed forever. Another couple is planning to join them in the summer, and so we'll be changed again. If you count success by membership numbers, it's a litte disheartening to admit to being nearly halved, but I know that God has a purpose for us in both Massachusetts and Texas.

On Thursday I'll be hosting a New Year's party at my house, so I can put the baby to bed and still witness the coming of the new year. I'm not a huge New Year's fan, but will take any excuse for a party and adult beverages.

It's time for me to go - the baby prince is wailing, something I'll definitely be dealing with in 2010!

The basic goodness of humanity.

I've come to the conclusion that the divide between conservative and liberal political thought, particularly among Christians, can be traced to what each believes about the fundamental nature of people.

I think that politically-liberal Christians believe that, as beings created in God's image, we have a divine spark that makes humans naturally good. It is the external environmental influences that pressure naturally good people into making bad choices, leading to bad lifestyles. Therefore, if you can eliminate poverty, illiteracy, and social inequality, humanity's condition will be improved and everyone will live in peace. This is why they embrace social programs and push for social justice.

On the other hand, politically-conservative Christians believe that, though created in God's image, humanity has been corrupted, and therefore our natural impulses are not for good, but for evil. Environmental factors may play a small part in decision-making, but goodness can only be achieved through an internal transformation by God. Social programs don't improve humanity's condition, but rather allow another avenue for abuse by naturally selfish people.

I lean toward the latter view, but I definitely have sympathy for the former. Sometimes it seems easier to change a person's environment than to change a selfish, stony heart.

Hell

I recently read a blogger complaining of how he thought it was unconscionable for God to send an atheist to hell for the mere sin of skepticism. Although his commenters pointed out that he probably has other sins besides skepticism for which he's being condemned, I feel like this line of thought isn't quite accurate. I believe the problem may be that people feel that heaven is the default destination, and then God plucks people out of line to send them to the lake of fire for being bad. In realty, hell is for everyone the ultimate destiny, and it is God, through the sacrifice of his son Jesus, who saves us from our fate.

Some might argue that this is just semantics; difference is only that of throwing someone in a lake to drown, and coming across a drowning person and willfully letting them go under. In both cases, one would be responsible for murder.

What we don't realize is that we're already drowning. For whatever reason, we chose to go into that murky lake and now we're going under. God is offering the lifeline, but we have to chose to grab it. Salvation is there for the taking, but we still have to make the choice to accept it.

As for hell itself, I personally don't believe that it is a place of fire and brimstone with little devils poking the condemned with pitchforks. Rather, I think it's the fullfillment of the choices you've made in your life. You wanted to live without God? Well, now you are finally in a place where he doesn't dwell. And yes, it does suck, but I don't think this condition is eternal. Whenever Jesus spoke of eternal life, it was for those who chose to follow him. Those who didn't are warned they'll suffer the second death. Because an eternity in torment would still be eternal life, this would indicate to me that eventually the spark of life will be extinguished. In the end, atheisits will get exactly what they expect - a complete abscence from existance.

Ewww...

At least when choosing models, they accurately depicted just what kind of beta-males utilize this service.

Lame

100,000 secular Britons seek "de-baptism."

I understand this is purely symbolic on the part of the people wanting to be de-baptised, but why go to all the trouble to null a ceremony which you believe has no meaning or power behind it in the first place. After all, probably the best way to prove you're not a Christian is to just live like it.

It seems like the equivalent of me trying to undo my Phi Theta Ki membership from junior college. I supposed I could write to the organization and ask to be formally released, but I left junior college long ago and I don't think anyone still associates me with them.

Work is slow ...

So slow, in fact, that I'm getting flashbacks from my previous job, except that I was actually busy there. The parallels to my last job are more in the vein of "Wow, if we don't get anymore work we're going to be [large amount of money] short this month." The last time I heard that it was followed by, "And therefore, we can't afford to keep you anymore, Meghan."

Hopefully, it won't come to that, but work needs to put up soon. I have absolutely nothing to do. I even went to my boss and told him I needed a project. He looked around the office for a few minutes and said, "Well, there really isn't anything that I can think of." Coming from the man who just had me rearrange all our file drawers and supply closet, that's pretty bad.

There's nothing worse then trying to create work for yourself, because eventually you wind up doing stuff that didn't get done in the first place because it's a stupid waste of time. Right now I'm filling the time by entering business contact info from 10-year-old Rolodexes I found in the storage closet into our electronic address system. Half the companies listed don't even exist anymore. It is fun to see which companies did stand the test of time. If this new job ends up not working out, I'll have a list of companies with proven longevity I can apply to. I bet I'm totally qualified to work for Biff's Autobody in Brighton.

Shopping with girlfriends is way better than shopping with husbands.

My buddy Krista invited me to spend the day shopping and getting in some much-needed girl time. Taylor and I are best friends, but there are some things for which men just aren't qualified, like commiserating about menstrual cramps, talking about husbands, and spending 5 hours in one day at Target and Khols.

One of the best things about shopping with Krista is that she doesn't mind meandering around a store and getting distracted by shiny displays. Taylor approaches shopping like a military raid: get in, grab the objective, and get out with minimal causalities. Krista and I on the other hand will peruse the whole store, and if we happen to get separated from each other, it's cool; we'll eventually meet up in the shoe department anyway.

Spring Awakening

I love spring in Boston. After being couped up all winter, it feels like the whole city comes to life. The snows starts to melt and the grass is starts to turn green again, and more exciting is you see people again! Everyone wants to be outside as much as possible: kids play in the yards, pet owners walks their dogs, joggers are out in full force trying to melt away their winter reserves.

This is really when the New Year should start, because the warm weather introduces a whole new world of possibilities. Taylor and I are making plans to have friends over for cookouts and picnics at the beach and to just plan get out more. Exercise doesn't seem so bad anymore because I want to be out walking. My dog Morgan stops being a pain in the butt because she can run off her energy in the back yard without turning into a pupcicle.

It feels like my life is so full of promise right now, which will probably only last until July when the temperature will hit the upper 90's and I'll be hiding in my air-conditioned house. Until then, I'm going to revel in the fresh air and sunshine.

Yes Sir, that's my baby!

Taylor and I discovered that I was pregnant on February 14th, after I spend the previous couple days feeling sick to my stomach and strangely lethargic. We didn't really think I was pregnant at the time, but decided to "rule it out" just in case.

I've taken probably 50 pregnancy tests since we've been married, because being a little melodramatic I assumed any weird feeling in my body had to be pregnancy! After seeing that single pink line so many times, it was a little more than jaw-dropping to see two pinks lines. I even made Taylor come up to the bathroom to confirm.

"Yup," he said. "There's two pink lines. Hey wait, isn't this thing covered in pee?"

Thus began our voyage into parenthood.

I'm now about 11 weeks along. Taylor and I went to my OB yesterday and they performed a sonogram. We watched in awe as our baby danced like a marionette on the black screen. It made all the nausea, bloating, lack of sleep and weird facial hair of the past weeks worth it.

Being pregnant is like falling in love. First, you're going through your life like normal, then someone comes and they're all you can think about. You dream about them and your life together and you're terrified they might leave. You're scared and thrilled. You feel like you're going to throw up all the time.

Okay, well, maybe that last once is pretty much just pregnancy.

Happy St. Paddy's Day!

Good Question

Could Obama be just too awesome?