No man (or baby) is an island

Oliver had his 2 month check up last Thursday. What this meant was that he was given 4 vaccines, 2 in each thigh. I was totally unprepared for this, and totally unprepared to see my little man in pain. There he was, lying on the exam table cooing and smiling at me, holding my fingers when the first shot was given. His face went red, his mouth contorted, I could see how much it hurt him. He cried, and I cried. We came home to cuddle; he was sore and uncomfortable all day. I felt horrible. I read over the materials I was handed about the vaccines he was given and felt torn. The risks associated with the vaccines are really scary. In some cases, the rate of occurrence of the side affects is higher than the disease itself. I know that vaccines are important for public health, for the safety of the masses; but had I been given the information before hand, and known how painful it was going to be for Oliver, and for me to see him in pain, I would have opted to move us to a remote desert island, where Ollie wouldn’t need to come into contact with other disease ridden humans, or anything awful, painful, or sad really. Mr. Cuerda convinced me that this idea was not plausible or good for Ollie really. But it still seems like quite a nice idea to me. I would love for nothing more than for Oliver to grow up in world where he would never have to experience pain, never see sadness or cruelty, never see inhumane acts. Right now, his world is so lovely, and it will be for a couple of years. Everyone loves him, everywhere we go; babies seem to bring out the wonderful side of human nature. People love to coo at him and smile, talk about him. Perfect strangers are nice to us, help us, and want to talk to us everywhere we go with him. This never happens to adults, people are never that nice to each other. Right now, his world is pure and new, he sees the trees and the grass, hears the birds and the rain; the world is an amazing place for him. At some point that is all going to change, and I worry about how the way the world really is will affect him. I wish there was some way for me to protect him from all of the awful things the world can present us, and keep his world so loving and pure. Ignorance really is bliss, and I can’t think of a better place to live in ignorance than your own remote island. Since I can’t pack up my family and go live on our own little island, I guess I better buck up and prepare myself for the next round of vaccines in 2 months and for how the realities of the world will affect him, and try my best to shelter him for as long as possible.

She was shakey, oh oh oh oh, snapping her fingers

Last month the McCuerda’s drove to Massachusetts for very sad and very happy events. We spent 3 days with Sasha’s great friends
in Somerville
outside of Boston. While we were there I met Shakey , and I haven’t been the same since. What is Shakey you ask? Shakey is delicious shaved chocolate that you shake. What do you shake Shakey on you ask? Well, so far I have shook Shakey on banana bread, banana pancakes, toast with butter, cereal, a spoon of peanut butter, salad, sliced pears, fruit salad, straight in my mouth…you can shake Shakey on anything really and you can make a hot chocolate drink with it in the winter, or now, if you are crazy like that. What can Shakey do for you, you ask? Shakey can file your taxes, clean your gutters, mow your lawn, tune your piano and cut through aluminum cans; Shakey can make you happier, more popular, thinner, wealthier, cure male pattern baldness, make you a better lover, and make peace in the middle east. Everyone needs a little Shakey in their life, who isn’t looking for a way to incorporate more chocolate into their day? Now, with the magic of the internet, Shakey can be yours for the low, low price of $13.50 + shipping and handling. $13.50 is not a lot to pay for a lifetime of happiness. Order yours today, operators are standing by; and don’t forget to throw in an extra canister for the lovely lady who brought Shakey into your life too.

Oliver’s Army

Oliver is going to be 8 weeks old this Friday. It so astounding how different my life is, I think about what I was doing last summer and I hardly recognize that person. I used to love to go dancing with friends at sonotheque, it was the most fun. Now I dance at home with Oliver, and we have the most fun. I used to really like spending evenings at the Map Room, chatting with friends over fantastic pints. Now I spend evenings rocking the little man to sleep after a bottle and a bath. It truly is my favorite way to spend an evening, I love how he falls asleep in my arms, wrapped up so cozy and safe, sucking on his pacifier with his tiny fingers wrapped around my finger. It is so sweet and beautiful. I used to be such a night owl, I would never go to bed before 1:00 A.M. and now I exhaustingly crawl into bed at 9:30, after the little man is sound asleep and tucked into his bassinet. I used to inhale books, consuming them one by one. Now I have a stack of 4 half-way read books that may take me a few years to get through, and that is okay, I really enjoy reading Goodnight Moon to Ollie over and over again. Life changes so fast. You turn a corner and everything is different. All of a sudden you find yourself a parent, without anyone checking your qualifications, and the life you once lived seems so long ago, you can hardly remember it. The past 8 weeks have been a blur, but they have contained some of the most meaningful and important moments of my life. Life is so good with Ollie. I am so thankful for the time I got to spend before meeting Sasha and having Oliver, I hope that all of those experiences I got to have make me a more interesting person and allow me to have something valuable to offer Oliver. I still can’t believe that I am a mother, and that I have this amazing son. I feel like I am going to wake up, back in my tiny apartment in Chicago and this was all some fantastic dream. But it’s all real, and really good.

A reward for crappy traffic

Thanks, Chicago. The city is offering Earth Machine compost bins for sale to residents this Saturday, July 14. The sale will be held at The Center for Green Technology from 10am to Noon. Residents are limited to one bin per household and the cost is $30.

Location: 445 N. Sacramento Blvd.
Phone: 312.746.9642

The McCuerda's are heading up to the fine city by the lake to pick one up. I am so very happy to be going for the weekend, it should be a really nice weekend. Too bad we really won't be able to go to Pitchfork, as Ollie is way too little; but a picnic in the park should be really nice.

Shameless plug...

For the peanut! Oliver is 6 weeks old today and is smiling a real smile! Ugh, he just kills me.

Revelations

I have recently realized that I am a bit of a picky eater. The list of foods that I do not like is a bit larger than I have been prone to confess. No one likes to admit that they may be a bit narrow minded or not so adventurous, and I am afraid that when it comes to food, I am less adventurous than I would like to be. Some of the foods I will not eat, under any circumstances are sausages, various animal organs, olives and mushrooms. Go ahead, shake your head in shame at me, I am used to it. People claim that these are some of the most delicious things on earth, but I am just not going to put them in my mouth, ever. I also really do not like zucchini, summer squash, and loads of meat products. I am not a big fan of heavy, rich or complicated recipes; I prefer my food left in a simpler naked like state, a little grilling with a few herbs is the best way to enjoy meats and veggies. In fact, I have realized that I really don’t like to cook. I love to eat, I love to hang out in the kitchen, drinking wine, chatting with someone who is a great cook, maybe fetching a dish or handing over a spoon; but I really don’t like the actual act of chopping and cooking all that much. I also should admit that my desire for a clean kitchen repels me a bit to dirtying up all of the utensils and pots that cooking involves. Sometimes I get a bit of a bug to make something really delicious, about 2-3 times a year maybe, but normally I am quite content to eat some salad greens, cheese and some fruit. Why revel this you might ask? Well it seems I am in love with and living with an amazing man who lives and breathes food and cooking, it is his one and only real passion in life. I desperately want to share his passion for cooking, and I know he wants that same from me. I am afraid he is a bit disappointed in my ability to be totally content with only dirtying up a knife cutting some cheese and using a plate for some bread and fruit, and being so happy eating that way every night. I am also afraid that if I do not find some way to love cooking he will have some torrid cooking affair, chopping zucchini in the kitchen with another. I do really like baking, and that might be because I am pretty good at it. Maybe if I was more competent at cooking I would enjoy it more. So maybe more exposure will make me love it more, and not see it as such a chore. I sure hope so, as I doubt I will be able to convince my lover that some brie and pears make a delicious meal for nightly eating.