An 8 year old's obsession with Jessica and Elizabeth

I think it was 3rd or 4th grade when I was introduced to the Sweet Valley High series. I remember reading that first book and being instantly obsessed. Desperately wishing I had an identical twin and wishing that I lived someplace as cool as Sweet Valley and since it was the height of the teen-driven 80's, wish SO BAD that I was in High School and drove a Fiat. I actually may go as far as credit my love of reading to this series. I do believe that they were the first books that I seriously DEVOURED - sit all day reading type thing. I even remember doing a book report on one of them using my Barbies as the twins in my 3-D diorama.

Now, these books have been updated to be more "relevant" to teens of today. Sigh, somehow its not that same if Elizabeth keeps a MySpace page instead of her diary..

But one question. Am I totally lame if I read the new versions.. just for old time's sake? I've totally held off on buying the Gossip Girl series! At least SVH has that special place in my heart.

"Parenting without a net"

I spend a lot of time thinking about my mental state and trying to find the stem, or trigger, of my anxiety. Why do I sometimes just wake up one morning and expect the bottom to fall out right then and there?

Our friend Kurt passed on this article to me earlier this week. He passed it on to Jason and I because the woman who wrote this piece also had a child who had Kawasaki Disease, and since it's such a rare illness, we are often sent news stories where it is mentioned. But this article hit me a little deeper.. it spoke my feelings.

“Other parents worry about the worst,” she told me, “but they don’t really believe it could happen. We know better.”

We know better. That was it, exactly. We parents throw everything between our kids and danger: bike helmets, seat belts, vaccinations, tooth sealants, self-defense classes. We are creating the illusion of safety as much as anything else, weaving a kind of magic circle of protection. Like all illusions, once broken it can never be made whole again.

The doctors passed my feelings on as postpartum depression - I guess a catch all for depression/anxiety within the first year of a child's life (Lucas was only 9 months old when he was diagnosed and treated for KD). But now it makes sense. It makes sense that when Zoe was born so small, my brain IMMEDIATLEY went to the worst place it could - because I've been there before.

Zoë, 5 months. The Diva edition

You know that internet game that makes the round every once in awhile? The one that asks for you to describe the sender in one word? Well, if Zoë was to send that to me this month I would have no problem with my one word to sum her up – PERSONALITY. Little Miss Z has got one – a BIG one. For such a little thing (clocking in at 9 ½ lbs) she is demanding, she is persistent, she knows what she wants, when she wants it and stops at nothing (shrieking) to get it. This month it’s been all about me, the mommy. All she wants is me. Me. Me. Me. Me. More importantly, me holding her, wearing her, or carrying her. If the boobs leave the building everyone within 50 ft of her knows it. I have now twice to come home to find Jason with a shot of something in his hand to try to calm his frazzled nerves brought on by the 45 minute non-stop infant cry. I currently have carpel tunnel in my arm and hand from holding her for 12 hours almost straight but have also mastered the art of cooking dinner one handed.

Besides the shrieking, Zoë has also found her singing voice. We noticed this past month that when you sing to her, she calms down.. and now she tries to sing along. If we walk into a store with loud music playing, she will actually start making noises along with the music. She also does this in the car and on a few occasions when you sing to her. She truly is a DIT (Diva In Training).. and now she even has the “bling” to go along with it.

We celebrated Zoë’s 5 month of life by getting her ears pierced. 33 years ago (next Monday. ACK!) when I was born in Barbados , the doctor actually pierced my ears in the hospital. It’s one of my mom’s favorite stories about having a baby on a Caribbean island (along with the birds that were flying above her head inside the hospital, during labor) was that they would had to fly a rabbi in from Venezuela to circumcise me if I was a boy, but when I came out a girl they pierced my ears when I was just 2 days old. So I grew up with pierced ears, and always knew that if I had a girl I would pierce her ears as a baby.

Just because NOTHING IN MY LIFE IS EVER EASY, this became something I had to research and figure out how to do. My pediatrician doesn’t do it, the ped he referred me to for it doesn’t do it until 9 months and its $90. So I called the next best thing – the body piercer at the local tattoo shop. Thinking I was being way creative here, I asked timidly if they pierce baby ears. To which the (I can only imagine) tatted up guy on the other end replied “Yea, all the time. $40 plus the cost of the earrings and bring her birth certificate.”

Oh. I wasn’t the only one looking for that photo op I guess.

In the end we settled for the Piercing Pagoda at the mall. And amidst a crowd of onlookers, little Zoë got tiny little gold studs put in her ears.

At least now when I’m old and senile and pulling out baby pictures to show Zoë’s kids, I will be able to tell which pictures are of Lucas and which ones are of Zoë.

Now, while I think she's the cutest baby girl on the planet currently, I know that I'm supposed to think that way. But with Zoë, other's apparently think so also. I'm not quite sure how to say this without sounding rude, but it's almost strange the attention this baby gets. Part of me is all about total strangers surrounding me when I'm holding her telling me just how gorgeous my baby is, and the other part of me is like "Dude, its a baby. Back off I'm just trying to buy some milk here.." I actually hesitate putting her in her sling sometimes because I know it will up the attention that she gets. Over the years I've had friends with this "magnetizing" ability. You know the ones, the people that others are just attracted to, like a magnet. I always teased one of my best friends Marina about this trait.. but at bars in college both men and women just wanted to talk to her. Zoë apparently has this trait. The other day I was at the Grove in LA. A shopping plaza where CELEBRITIES hang out with their babies and the baby of the hour was little Miss Z. I saw people out of the corner of my eye, walk by, look at her then double back to casually walk by again, this time stopping to point Zoë out to a friend or corner me with a question about her age or just to stand in front of her and spew random nonsense words in high pitched tones in a desperate attempt to get a smile. It almost verges on the point of being weird. Do you get what I'm saying? I'm really not trying to brag or sound self (or Zoë)-centered, but being with Zoë out in public when she in her sling and witnessing the effect she has on people is just downright BIZZARE.

We were joined at the Grove on Sunday by my best friend of the past (GAK!) 17-years, Auntie Eli, who was awestruck by the "Zoë experience." Back in HS Eli dated one of Alan Thicke's sons (not Robyn, the now famous singer) during the height of the Growing Pain years. She knows what it was like to be out and about with a celebrity, and in her words "Zoë got far more attention by strangers than Alan ever did!"

Ahhh, my little superstar. Is this how Giselle Bundchen's mother felt? Let's just hope that she uses her powers for good and not for underage partying.