PEANUT & MARGARET

Over X-mas, Peanut's dad, Pie, bought her a doll named Margaret. It's the only toy she's attached to. Pie said finding a half and half doll was hard. I was surprised to hear that since we live in San Francisco, and every other person seems to be speaking Tag-lish (Tagalog + English = Taglish). As a matter of fact, whenever I go to Target in Colma, I think I just might be in Manila. It's strangely comforting, I think.

Anyway, here's a picture of Peanut and Margaret. I think they look a lot alike. Blawgermom, please tell your mom that Peanut's best friend is named Margaret. I think she'll be pleased.

THINKING OUTSIDE THE BOX

I always thought I was an "outside the box" type of person. I try to think outside the box on most things, mostly because I like to be unique. I think I might get this from my mom. But then I had a baby, and well, that changes everything. All of a sudden, hip and edgy is replaced with boring and safe. All of a sudden that 100-year Victorian in Pacific Heights with its tall ceilings and traditional molding becomes strangely appealing.

Don't get me wrong. I love my apartment in SOMA, concrete and all, but at some point Peanut should have a 4-walled room that I don't have to walk through to get to mine. My current neighborhood is in transition. Once an industrial area, it is now a hotbed of condo and commercial development. There are mostly young families and empty nesters. You rarely see a teenager, and when you do, he's dressed in black and pissing off my one-eyed cocker spaniel with a ratty skateboard. There aren't a lot of schools here. So I ask myself, "Shouldn't Peanut be near her school? Shouldn't she be one of those fancy kids who take piano lessons and do mommy and me yoga in the presidio? Shouldn't she go to one of those pre-schools that you apply to when she's 1 month old, but to get her in there, you become a serious ass kisser?

How much of your former self do you lose so that you become the person you think you should be for your peanut? How do you be YOU and a mom all at the same time? Is Peanut better inside the box or outside of it. These are my questions.

A DESK: THE WINDOW TO YOUR SOUL

Albert Einstein once said, "If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what then is an empty desk?" (Don't think I'm so smart that I can quote Albert Einstein at a whim - I read that quote in Domino Magazine, which is more representative of the caliber of my reading these days. My blogger friend halfmama accuses me of not reading lots of text written in small font. Anyway, I've already gone off on a tangent.)

This picture is my desk -- uneditted. The designer in me wanted to clean it up, but I thought it would be against the spirit of this blog. You see, I'm going through a little bit of an identity crisis these days. New mom (1 year), new career (relatively new - 3 years), new city (not really). My blogger friends, halfmama and hi-ho hi-ho off to work i go hi-ho boo-hoo (i had to cut and paste that), are my inspirations. They post with reckless abandon and leave me in tears and stitches. They keep asking me why I don't start a blog and I tell them I have privacy issues and I'm afraid of being scrutinized. But who cares? Really? I think this will be fun, so I'm dedicating this blog to my little peanut. May cluttermom grow up to be an inspiration to you. Rest assured my desk is not empty but overflowing with thoughts of you.