A Bittersweet Existence » caffeine addiction

Coffee or Beer?

Dawana — Sat, 03 Apr 2010 00:46:42 +0000

Image taken from Free Foto

When I was in high school I worked at New World Coffee on 7th Avenue in Park Slope (Brooklyn). It was my first real job. I loved making my own money but for the life of me couldn’t understand why people loved their chai, with foam, whipped cream, non-fat, splash of caramel on top, latte, frappa, ameri-chinos.

Fast-forward nine years (wow… it’s only been nine years since I’ve been out of high school? Seems WAAAAY longer than that). Anyway, fast forward nine years and I still don’t get it. But I do get the caffeine addiction. I have my coffee every morning or I can’t come out to play- bottom line.

Get me a grande vanilla latte from Starbuck’s… shit I could run on that all day- no need for food. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I’m still waiting on:

a) them to build a Starbuck’s in this fucking town. Why couldn’t these townies spend their money on that instead of building another section 8 housing development right up the street from me. and

b) Starbuck’s to deliver. Hello!! Get with it folks.

I like my coffee light, like my men and strong… but sweet. If that makes any sense. Nom, nom, nom. I may have to stop at Starbuck’s on base on the way home when I go to pick up Hubby from work.

Image taken from Freaking News

Now I’m no alcoholic (yet… come see me in like five years after my daughter has had her way with me), but I love me some beer. Bud Light please- Ice Cold. If there’s no Bud Light, I’ll have a Coor’s Light. No Coor’s Light? Someone needs to make a beer run. (**Not It**)

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**Public Service Announcement:**

I’d just like to take this moment to thank my white friends for introducing me to the pleasures of beer in college. They include, but are not limited to my homegirls Marita and Aimee- special shout out to them.
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Anyway, I love me some beer. If it’s been a long day with baby girl, beer is a must. If it’s been a long week, yeah, I’ll have a double when we go out to eat on the weekends.

Due to recent circumstances and the medication I am on I have had to make a decision: Coffee or Beer?

I can’t have both.

Not the way I drink them.

Because I will follow up my coffee with a Pepsi (mmMmmmm Nom Nom Nom) and like I said one beer may follow another (hey, some days call for two or three beers!). After a not-very long internal debate, I have chosen coffee.

Sorry beer. We aren’t broken up forever. I’ll still sip you here and there, if necessary. But for my health, I need coffee- I don’t need liquor or alcohol. Nope. I’m a whole lotta fun with or without it.

What about you. If you had to choose- what would it be?

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The One Where I Tell You “What I Do All Day”

Dawana — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 06:03:04 +0000

This one really goes out to the Stay-At-Home Moms… only because we are home all day long (for the most part). Has your husband or significant other ever asked you “what do you do all day?”

Before you start passing judgment, no, my husband did not ask me that (I think he knows better)… but I do get the feeling from talking to my Mommy friends that they don’t seem to fully “get it.”

There seems to be some kind of misconception that we are home all day, so clearly, we have lots of time on our hands. Right?

My husband has been making these “jokes” about how I spend all day on the computer. I think he does it more to light a fire under my ass because he knows how much it pisses me off to hear that. Especially since it’s far from the truth.

So today. I set out to document my day. Hold on to your fuckin horses, there are a lot of photos involved in this post and really, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to keep up.

C usually wakes up around 6, 5 if she’s feelin’ frisky. But today she spared me and woke up at 7. I tried to keep her in bed by amusing her with Elmo’s World, but that shit didn’t work. And since my loving husband showed her how to get down from our bed herself- forget it. She’s out and ready to start the day. So, up I get.

We head out into the living room and I look around, sigh, and try to figure out where to start. Now, the house is not a wreck, but when you know that you are going to attempt to clean the WHOLE thing- you’ve got your work cut out for you. Especially with an 11 month old who won’t let you breathe without her permission.

I decide to tackle the kitchen first. Now, I must say that I am not good at sticking to one task at-a-time. I usually get sidetracked and start working on something else completely until I remember that I never finished the first thing that I was working on. I choose the kitchen, though, because I can make her breakfast, feed her and clean it up at the same time. So, I proceed to make her porridge. While I am doing that, I put on my pot of coffee and wash up the dishes. C entertains herself by pulling all of the kitchen utensils out of the drawer and throwing them on the floor. *Note to self, wash ALL of those utensils that are now on the floor.* I feed C, sip on my coffee and decide to head out to the living area- there are toys there and hopefully they can keep her occupied long enough for her to allow me to sweep and mop.

So she may give me about 5 minutes of this- her entertaining herself before she’s over it and SO curious about what I’m doing or where I am.

So during this time I sweep. Around her little ABC mat, on the mat (she likes to eat there) and the entire living room and entryway.

While I am sweeping, C decides that she’s over playing in her play area and wants to venture out into the greater living room. What does she go for? Her activity center, which my husband ever-so-gently tucked away into a corner next to the fireplace. Why? Well our cable wire is hanging under there and he thought if he put her activity center there, she couldn’t go for the cable wire and try to pull it out of the wall. I don’t need to tell you how well that plan worked.

Anywho, she doesn’t like to sit in her activity center- Nooo she likes to climb on the sides and let it rock. She also likes to go underneath it and sit there- she usually gets stuck under there and cries. Well today I got sick of seeing the activity center rock to and fro- knowing that at any second she could tip it over and fall flat on her head on the tile. Um… no thank you. So:

me being the mean Mommy that I am, I took that bad boy up and put it behind the safety gate. Yeah, she was not happy.

So, she found something else to do: stare out the patio door at the dog. She LOVES to do this. So I thought “sweet,” I can mop the floor while she looks to see what the stupid dog is doing. So, I grab my Shark Steam Mop and start mopping away.

Oh what is that C? You want to help Mommy mop? No thanks, I’m all set. Oh yes, please. Pick up the cord for the Steam Mop and shake it all about- are we doing the Hokey Pokey?

I mop the entryway, I mop the play area, I even use the steam mop on her little ABC foam mat. You know why? She spills things on there and they leave little black marks… well the steam mop cleans that all up.

Then I decide, heck, while I’m deep cleaning- why not take up the rug, sweep under that and mop too? So of course the first thing she does is go over to the rug to touch it. “Hurry up” I say to myself “before the damn rug falls and knocks her in her head…” I assure you, the rug did not fall- and so all is well with the world! While I was sweeping that area, something told me to check under the sofa for goodies. Um yeah, that would be 1 sippy cup and 1 bottle Alex. Depending on how disgustingly old that milk was in the bottle, it would have to go straight to the trash can: Do not pass Go, do not collect $100.

Thankfully, it wasn’t moldy, just stinky- so into the sink it went for a good soaking.

I go in the kitchen to empty the dustpan and soak the stinky bottle and there she is, right on my trail. Making weird noises that I guess she thinks is crying, but I know is just fake random “pay attention to me” noises that she likes to make.

She finds her play area again and decides this time to pull the ABC mat apart… whatever floats your boat honey, as long as it keeps you quiet. I can put it back together at anytime. I know my ABC’s… I think.

Oh yeah, the bathroom rugs are in the washing machine, I should probably put them in the dryer. Here she comes… investigating the “one day I’m gonna have a garage sale and when I do this is the stuff that I’m going to sell” pile o’ crap.

“Ohh lookie here, Mommy left the door open…” “I’ll just help by pulling the rugs out for her!”

After I avert that crisis (of her throwing my clean rugs on the floor). Back into the house we go.

What time is it?

Isn’t she tired yet?

What the fudge?!

Uhh no, Cadence, please get off of the fireplace. I HATE when you climb up there. It’s not safe.

No, no, NO!!! Please stop trying to pull the garland down off of the fireplace. Ugh! This is exactly why the Christmas tree is in the kitchen.

Feed the fish, feed the dog.

“Oh lookie here. It’s Mommy’s water bottle.” Wait, what’s that? Is it… RUUUUuun!!

“Puh-lease pick me up!! I don’t want to see that!”

What could bring her such terror you wonder? Duh-duh-duuuuuh: **gasp** The Vacuum!!

So basically, I have to hold her in my arms and vacuum. Great fun, quite the workout too.

So thanks to the vacuum she’s in a pretty foul mood. It’s after 11. I’m running on coffee and she’s cranky. Ugh. This is not going to end well at all.

Time out to check the diaper, comb her hair (shocker, huh? I know you all think I never comb her hair) and feed her.

There is the proof that her hair was combed today.
Thank you- please hold your applause.

Since I was in her room, the scatter-brain in me decides to clean up in there. C was SUCH a big help. She emptied all of the contents of her diaper bag on the floor… now if I was smart I would learn to keep the zipper closed so she can’t do that anymore… but I can be a little slow on the uptake. Hopefully, though, I’ve learned my lesson!

I had to walk past the bathroom to get back to the kitchen. So what the hell, might as well clean up in there- this should only take a few minutes. Wipe down the toilet and counters with Clorox wipes- check. Clean out the tub -che… uhh, NO CADENCE don’t touch that! **sigh** (Note to self: Please remember that she has a long reach- put everything waaay far back from the edge) Clean out the sink- check.

While I am cleaning out the sink, she decides to pull her ducky tub out of the big girl tub and then tries to sit in it while it’s on an angle . Yeah… she fell right out of there.

NEXT!!!

It’s 12:20 pm- do you know where your children are?
Mine is wide awake and ready to eat.

Don’t judge me based on what I feed her…

Moving on.

She starts to look a little tired. So I try, yet again to put her down to sleep and… JACK-FUCKING-POT!!

I’m so excited, I don’t even know what to do first. I consult my planner which contains my list of things to do daily (more about that another time) and I decide to finish in the kitchen.

First thing’s first, dump all of C’s toys into the sanitizer…. do this until all of her toys have been cleaned.

SO I’m washing the dishes and think- Okay, I vowed to try and stop complaining about my days so what’s one good thing that’s happened today?

Well, I thank God for allowing me to see another day with my family- that’s huge. Right?

Then I think, when this day is over, what can I say that I did for myself? (cough, cough- nothing) This is when I choose to work out- this is something that I am doing for me and I will NOT skip a day. Plus, who knows how long I have left in C’s nap. So, workout it is.

Once that’s over and I realize she’s still sleeping I decide to go around and empty all of the trash in the house: both bathrooms & our bedroom.

Back to our bedroom… I turn/flip the mattress (on my list to do today), make the bed, clean off the ironing board (which was becoming a junk pile), clean off the counters/sink area and oh! C’s awake…. It’s after 2. She gave me a good hour plus.

Bring her into the bedroom with me, sweep, NO GET OUT OF THE TOILET!!!

I get the steam mop, bring it in the room, plug it in and wait for it to heat up… once it starts releasing steam. C shouts “hot, hot, hot!!!” Soo funny. Probably the cutest part of today. I always tell her not to touch the steam mop b/c it’s hot. So now when she sees it “hot, hot, hot.”

Somewhere in the midst of my temporary insanity I decide to give the dog a bath. A) Because he smells like shit and B) I’d like to vacuum and febreeze our bedroom carpet. If I do that and a smelly ass dog lays on it, I’m going to be PISSED.

Good thing I already cleaned the guest bathroom. K, let me pick up the rug, remove ALL of C’s toys from the tub and give this dude a bath.

He was fairly good and C was just in awe. She’d never seen him get a bath before. (For so many reasons- including that he doesn’t get bathed as often as he should).

And just for cuteness sakes, here she is trying to give the dog kisses while he gets clean:

K, dog is done. Dry him off, take him out back to brush him off with the deshedding tool. THIS TAKES 100 YEARS. For a short-haired dog, he sheds more than I don’t know what.

Shit, it’s after 3. I need to go to the post office, but most importantly I promised Hubby I would go to the pharmacy and pick up his meds.

I. Promised.

Okay, if I leave by 4, I should be able to get there and get back in time to let him in. (My husband doesn’t feel the need to travel with his house keys)

Febreeze sofa cushions and pillows.

Clean guest bedroom.

Shred papers.

4 o’clock, still haven’t eaten… Running on nothing but Mommy juice now.

Maybe I’ll stop by Subway after I get Hubby’s prescription.

Hop in the car, go to the pharmacy and wait… and wait…

Fuckin small towns- only damn pharmacy in town with 80 people behind there, but only 1 person helping people with pick-ups. Great. There goes my Subway.

What the hell… is that cramps I’m feeling?

Son of a-!$#@*&! I would get my period today.

Oh, what’s that pharmacist, you only have 3 out of the 30 tablets my husband needs and I’ll have to come back on Monday? Oh great… thanks!

K, hurry, hurry. Hubby gets off of work at 4:30, give or take 15 minutes to get home… I have time. Maybe I’ll drive through McDonald’s and… Ohh look at all of the cars in the Drive-Thru.

NEXT!

Headed home, stop at the post-office and it’s empty. Thank You God.

Back in the car…. driving. Oh thank you Lord for that green light. Thank you for allowing me to turn left and YAY!!! (Big sigh of relief) Hubby is just now pulling up as I arrive.

Suh-weet!

It’s 11 pm… I’m writing this blog post. I ate 2 Taco Supremes today and had 2 glasses of wine.

I haven’t showered, or brushed my teeth (headed to do that now, I promise).

Tomorrow is Saturday, so I get to tackle this beast again on Monday.

What did you do today?

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Flight Rules

Dawana — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 02:26:24 +0000

As I type I am sitting on one of the most awesome airlines I’ve ever flown on… awesome only because they have WiFi on board, never mind the fact that it costs $12.95 for the entire flight. I guess, though, when the flight is almost 5 hours long $12.95 is not a big deal right now. Give me some internet and a drink and I’m ready for this journey. (No, I have not had a sip of alcohol thus far- more on why later).

Let’s talk about my journey to seat 19F on flight 416 to New York City. Chris and I left Desert Town with ample time to get to LAX- or so we thought. Then there we were, sitting on the 405 in bumper-to-bumper traffic and it’s 2:20 ish. I go into semi-panic mode in my mind, saying things like: “How can I fix this if I do miss my flight?,” “My Mother is going to freak out,” “Good thing I had the dress mailed to me and got it altered here.” The optimistic part of me- I think it comprises of .01 % of my brain- thinks we’ll make it (my flight is at 3:20 by the way), we have to make it, the Garmin says we will- why would it lie? Needless to say we made it by 2:30 and the woman at the check-in counter says to Chris “She’s not gonna make this flight.” Wrong thing to say, lady- I’m getting on this plane! She was the least of my worries, though.

My heart was racing as I made my way up to the security check point to deal with the friendly TSA agents- here to help protect our skies, right? I will say two nice things about the TSA people: 1) My sister is a T SA agent, so that gives them a few brownie points with me and 2) I love this family line thing where I get to skip all the folks traveling without kids and go right up to the metal detectors. Really, the family line was the whole reason I made my flight, because there were a lot of people on line. I get through the metal detectors with no trouble- after all, this isn’t my first time flying with Cadence, I’ve been trying to master the art of getting through the line in a timely fashion and I think I did pretty well.

Here’s where the drama starts. I get through security knowing that they would need to do a bag check (I had 3 bottles with me). So the TSA guy, whose name I didn’t get opens the thermos with the milk and proceeds to tell me that I can’t take my ice pack any further- you can only use it if you have breast milk. I could just feel the fire begin to burn inside of me, so I just nicely said- are you serious? I flew from Florida to LA with this same ice pack with no problem- have the rules changed since April? And really, why only breast milk? Does formula not need to stay cold as well? Milk is milk. **Whoa, we just hit an air pocket… I may have peed a bit in my pants** Anyway, I am ready to rip TSA guy a new one when I think of my sister and all of the pain in the ass passengers that she probably gets so I say to Mr. TSA: “Look, I know you’re just trying to do your job, but I need this ice pack. I can’t fly for 5 hours and just have the milk sitting out.” And this is the part where I got into a back-and-forth conversation with a dumb ass who clearly knows nothing about formula.

TSA guy: “Well, why don’t you have the powder?”

Me: “I don’t use the powdered form.”

TSA guy: (puzzled look on his face) “But isn’t there a powder that you have to mix it with?”

Me: “Yes, but I don’t use that kind, I use the ready-made.”

TSA guy: (idiotic silence)

Me: “It comes already made in liquid form.”

TSA guy: “Okay, but where’s the container?”

Me: “In my fridge at home.”

TSA guy: “You should have it.”

Me: (About to lose it on this guy) “Once you open the ready-made formula, it needs to be refrigerated right away, how would I keep a bottle this big (I show him the size using my hands) cool on a plane?”

And this goes on until I remember that I am going to miss my flight, so I go to snatch my thermos and TSA guy says “I have to test the bottles.” “Well, let’s get going ’cause I’m going to miss my flight” I say. As genius TSA guy is testing the milk another TSA guy walks over and says “What are you doing?” So loser TSA guy tells TSA guy #2 about my oh-so suspicious ice pack and TSA guy #2 says “It’s fine, I let Moms take those all of the time, just swipe it and give it back to her.” Loser TSA guy says “I thought it was only breast milk?” TSA guy #2 says “Nah, give her her things.” “Oh” says loser TSA guy. In my most annoyed, loud Brooklyn tone I say “Are you done testing?” (Yes) And I cover my milk, snatch my stuff and walk to my gate- fucking idiot…

I board the plane with its mood lighting on the inside and take my seat and would it be my luck that Cadence and I are sitting in front of germ city? This guy is sneezing and blowing his nose for days and days. Sweet, I think, contaminate the recycled air in this enclosed space. That’s ALL I ever wanted! Ugh.

Maybe about 20 minutes into the flight, someone let one rip. Now, I know that everyone passes gas, but this was foul. I thought Cadence pooped her diaper- that’s how bad it smelled and how long the smell lingered. Really? That’s inappropriate in an enclosed space!

Cadence is sleeping right now, so I’m typing this with one hand. The flight’s pretty good- bumpy from time-to-time. I thought the constant movement of the plane would put her to sleep. I didn’t think that she would try to take my neighbor’s sweater away (while she was sleeping nonetheless), try to pull the hair of the woman in front of me and really not give a damn about what’s going on outside the window. I brought every defense mechanism that I could think of including a bag with her favorite toys, a Baby Einstein DVD, juice and a bag of those dissolvable banana puffs she likes so much. They seem to be working for now.

I was prepared to have a drink or two on the flight to make Cadence’s (at times) wild behavior more bearable. Besides the fact that she’s being surprisingly good, I’ve been having these crazy pains in my sides and lower abdomen plus some nausea. Unless my birth control is defective, I know I’m not pregnant… so I think I may be dehydrated. I guess that’s what happens when you become a caffeine addict, huh? I drank two sodas back-to-back yesterday… that probably wasn’t a good idea. So I’m going to try and drink as much water as possible between tonight and tomorrow so that I can drink up at my brother’s wedding on Saturday- I really hope it’s open bar.

I just want to land so I don’t have to hear the tool in 20F blow his nose any more- what the heck do you have in there dude? Planets? According to Google Maps we’re going 592 mph at 37,072 feet, with 1,226 miles to go. We’re cruising right over the Illinois/Indiana border & it’s -66 degrees outside (brrr). New York City, here we come. Let’s see if I, too can sleep on this plane.

My flight rules?

a) Keep your germs to yourself

b) Keep your God awful bodily gasses to yourself and

c) I’ll try to keep my child’s hands off of your stuff- pretty simple, no?

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And the award goes to…

Dawana — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 21:10:51 +0000

All Stay-At-Home Moms. Really, how DO you do it? This is no f*in joke. And in an ideal world, we’d get paid for staying home and raising our own children so someone else doesn’t have to do it. I think I am an absolute addict to coffee now… When I was teaching, a once-a-week fix of a Vanilla Latte from Starbuck’s on Fridays worked very well. Now, I try to make a pot of coffee every morning or I won’t even be able to walk. I find myself rubbing my eyes often, yawning often and showering…. let’s just say that’s a thing of the past. When I do get to shower, it’s like Hallelujah, Jesus! And it is a very LONG one.

The babe is being weaned of the boob because things still aren’t going the way they should and the ear piercing screams (which my friend Jamila got to experience the other day thanks to Skype) have not seemed to settle as she enters her 5th month. So, the reflux may be causing more pain to her little tummy than we know and she is now on a hypo-allergenic formula that has the broken down proteins and all kindsa crap for kids that may have a milk sensitivity. Short of having a gastroenterologist stick a tube down your infants throat to look in her stomach, which I refuse to have done, this is the next best thing. And thank the good Lord, it seems to be working. The screaming has come down from all the time to now just when I’m tired- which I can handle. The all the time thing was wearing on me… makes you want to consider hanging yourself.

So now I get to pump during the day so I don’t get YET ANOTHER boob infection like earlier in the year, whilst my milk dries up. I still breastfeed her at night for now because really, I don’t feel like getting out of my bed in the middle of the night to make a bottle. Milk’s free right here… and ready-made.

My days…. My days, my days. Well we get up or SHE gets up rather and depending on the time, I get up with her or I put a pillow next to her so she can’t roll off the bed and let her entertain herself while I get a few more minutes of shut eye. She goes in her activity center while I make her breakfast, plus a bottle just in case. She eats cereal/fruit in the am we watch Regis & Kelly and The View… more The View than R & K, I’m starting to get bored with them. It’s a wonder they’ve been on this long. After The View, I turn off the TV cause nothing good’s on at 11 and that’s usually the time when she’s ready for her nap anyway. If I accomplish the task of putting her down, that’s when I eat.

I also pitter-patter around the house in my AD/HD way. Moving from one task to the next, since I really can’t focus on doing one thing at a time. I’m folding clothes and I see the piano’s dusty, so I stop folding to get the wood cleaner & dust. On the way to get the furniture polish, I see the sink is full of dishes, so- I wash them. Then remember that I was supposed to be dusting/polishing, so I go back to that. Only to see that there are more loads of laundry to be done, so I put them in the washer (and I usually forget that I put clothes in there btw). I try to vacuum every day, but I usually start and never finish the whole house. I do the den, the living room & the hall… then something else happens. More folding, washing, cleaning the bathrooms… something, always something.

I go on Facebook maybe 2 million times a day. Get the babe down on the floor for tummy time, cause she’s probably going to be crawling by the end of the month. Speaking of crawling- I wonder daily how I am going to keep the bloody dog hair that invades my home out of her mouth. (Sarah, you have 2 dogs… how do you do it?) It’s everywhere!! She goes in her swing, she sits in her high chair & watches Baby Einstein (usually by then I’m doing dishes again)… I think I Skype every day- not by choice, but since I’ve introduced my Mother to it, she’s obsessed. I Skype her & Jamila… anyone else have Skype? Feel free to video chat with me. Feed the dog, let him outside, put the trash out back for Chris to take out when he gets home. Take out something for dinner…. Whew! It’s a long day.

Kudos to the women who’ve been doing this for centuries. I had a roommate freshman year of college whose Mom was a homemaker and when we went to visit once, she did laundry every day we were there and I thought- why the heck is this lady doing so much laundry? Then I had a baby… who liked to poop up her outfits and (now) smother pears, applesauce and bananas all over her clothes and (lucky me!) has reflux which means spit-up & vomit everywhere all of the time. So not only does she generate a lot of laundry, but depending on how much she spit up on me… I go through a great deal of clothes as well. My favorite happened maybe a week ago. She’s sitting on my lap and I hear a great big fart… then my legs feel warm. Well… it was such a huge explosion that it came out of both sides of the diaper and covered my jeans. Needless to say, she needed a bath and I had to soak my jeans with oxi-clean spray and launder immediately before the poop stains set in… That was fun. All while her Daddy sat next to me in his clean glory.

He likes to say stuff like “Oh, she’s so funny”… and really she is funny. She’s got a great sense of humor all her own and her personality shines right through. She’s going to be strong-willed, hard-ass, don’t f* with me, but still very funny in her own right. But when she’s up at 3 am talking away to no one in particular and trying to eat her feet, all while taking up most of the bed… not so funny. All in a day’s work, I guess.

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