1. What did you do in 2005 that you’d never done before?
Had a baby!

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I didn't make any, and I'm not making any this year either. It's too disappointing when I fail.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Umm... oh yeah.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Thank goodness, no.

5. What countries did you visit?
None.

6. What would you like to have in 2006 that you lacked in 2005?
A loving, secure relationship with a mature man.

7. What date from 2005 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
January 26 and November 6.
Josh was conceived... and Josh was born!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I'm beginning to see a pattern here... but, growing a baby and giving birth.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Even though I don't regret it now, getting pregnant in the first place was a pretty significant failure on my part. Also, listening to stupidity and letting it get under my skin was pretty dumb.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nope.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Hmmm... maybe the sling for Josh.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Marianne's.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Andrew's. And George Bush, but that's nothing new.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Dinners out.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Josh's arrival.

16. What song will always remind you of 2005?
Sign, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours.

17. Compared to this time last year, are youi. happier or sadder?
Only a BAJILLION times happier.

ii. thinner or fatter?
Definitely fatter. Ugh. (Of course, this time last year, I wasn't eating anything. Just drinking wine and smoking cigarettes incessantly. Does a number on the waistline.)

iii. richer or poorer?
Mat leave? Poorer for sure.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Studying.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Procrastinating & panicking.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With my dear chums in the a.m. and at the Mission in the p.m.

22. Did you fall in love in 2005?
Almost.

23. What was your favorite TV program?
Desperate Housewives

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Hell yes.

26. What was the best book you read?
Misconceptions by Naomi Wolf & Secrets of the Baby Whisperer.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Casting Crowns.

28. What did you want and get?
A digital camera.

29. What did you want and not get?
A new car. And Rob's head on a plater.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
March of the Penguins.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old?
30, and I had a big baby shower/birthday party thrown by the world's greatest girlfriends.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Having a husband to go into parenthood with. And getting Rob's head on a platter.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2005?
"Roomy".

34. What kept you sane?
Prayer. Oh, and Celexa.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you admire the most?
None.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
To be honest, political issues took a major backseat this year.

37. Who did you miss?
My mom.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
David.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2005:
Live the questions rather than stressing over the answers.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"I will survive".

Me n' my boy.

Joshua is a crucible.

Today, things got so desperate (after a night of just about the worst crying I could imagine -- so bad, I yelled Jesus Christ!, and not as a prayer) that I began trying to reason with him. Have you ever tried to reason with a colicky baby? Well, it's somewhat like banging your head against a table. Actually, banging your head against a table would probably be better.

So it went like this:

"Josh, I am trying. I am trying to raise you on my own. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a single mother? Do you? Why won't you help me at all? Why won't you cut me some slack? Just a little tiny bit... and I promise not to smother you with a pillow."

"Josh, I'm going to put you in the swing. Pretend you like it. No, pretend harder."

"Do you want me to go to jail? Do you? Keep it up, son. Keep it up."

"Please, baby, please. Just go to sleep. It's so nice there. I can't figure out what you need. You're fed, your diaper is clean, you've been rocked, swaddled, cuddled, sung to, bounced, taken for a walk in the stroller, taken for a ride in the car, given gripe water and nursed until my nipples shrivelled up. Why does NOTHING make you happy?!"

Fortunately, fussy babies tend to develop into intellectual giants and Nobel prize winners. Albert Einstein was a nightmare. Marie Curie was an infant abomination. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s mama almost threw him out the window. (This is what I tell myself, anyway, because I gave up trying to reason with a screaming newborn.) Joshua is just developing his lung capacity so that when he's preaching to thousands, or yelling above the other members of Parliament when he's Prime Minister, he will be heard. Yes, my boy is making sure he gets himself heard.

Josh and I just fell a little bit more in love today. We serenaded each other with 1950s jazz tunes. I took the role of Ella, and he was Louis.

Man, it is the year to have a baby. If Hollywood is good for anything, it's trend-setting, and I, for one, like to keep up with the times. When else am I going to find myself in with the likes of Britney Spears, Jennifer Garner, Heidi Klum, Katie Holmes and that other blonde chick from Dawson's Creek? I wonder if they'd be up for a Mommy's Group?

Anyway, I look at my little doo-wop and I can't imagine some vapid Hollywood personality loving her kid this much. Okay, maybe Jennifer Garner, but definitely not Britney Spears. I mean, she transformed her kid's room into a nativity scene for pete's sake. Theme Baby! What fun! Sean Preston may be great, but let's face it, with a dad like Kevin Federline, you know he's not exactly the incarnate God, is he?

The other thing I wonder about is when, if ever, my "downstairs" is going to return to normal. Who would have guessed that 8 pounds of human could do so much damage on its way out?

December 6, 2005

Dear Josh,

You are one month old today. Congratulations on making it. There were a few times there when I thought you wouldn't. As Anne Lamott says, "I have had some terrible visions lately, like of holding him by the ankle and whacking him against the wall, the way you "cure" an octopus on the dock". The fact that you're abso-freaking-lutely adorable, even when you're bright red and screaming your face off, is God's way of safeguarding you through these colicky episodes. As soon as you learn how to talk, you should thank him.

Yeah, and thank me, too, because I sit here all bloody day and let you pacify yourself on my nipples. At the very least, it keeps me from doing foolish things.

Also, I have to write emails & journal entries with one hand.

Sometimes, though, something comes along that restores your faith that just because things have always been the way they've always been doesn't mean they're always going to be that way, too. I received a package from my friends Joe and Nigel in Singapore. In it, there was a letter with a note to you:

"It won't always be easy or fun, but doing things we might not enjoy for the sake of the ones we love is what makes us men. You'll be one yourself someday. Be proud, stand tall, and take care of your mother."

I worry that I won't be able to help you become the kind of man you can be proud of. I worry that my fucked up neuroses is going to impede you from learning how to be proud, stand tall, and take care of the people you love. I worry that you won't learn how to be fiercely on your own side. I worry that you'll hurt the people who love you. I hope, somehow, despite all this worrying, I can give you enough to work with and pray that you'll be influenced by the kind of good men that can show you how to get where you need to go.

It's been a great, if exhausting, month, my little precious baby. Thank God for you.

Love,
Mama

So, today I'm watching black and white movies, because they feel like my mood.

Good Lord, being a single mother is hard. Every little thing is a huge deal. Like typing this itty bitty journal entry was a huge deal because as soon as I put him down, my tiny son is unhappy. Screechy, squirmy, why-don't-you-love-me-enough-to-hold-me? unhappy. And there's no one here to pass him off to for a few minutes. Who knew something so small could make so much noise and create so much work?

I feel so disconnected from the world. I feel trapped at the bottom of a well. I wish I could yell loud enough so that someone would hear me -- Please, I'm down here! Please don't forget about me!

I guess this is post-partum depression. Please, indeed.