Moon Musings

Smarter Than the Machine

2011-01-12T10:20:00.003-05:00

Thinking of trying this one out. http://www.inhabitots.com/diy-wrap-baby-carriers/

I am not a seamstress by any means but I have been increasingly irritated with myself that I can't sew something simple. I think it is ridiculous to pay someone $10 to hem a pair of pants for which I only paid $24. There are just a few little jobs here and there I would like to do and I have a machine. I just don't know how to work the damn thing.

Anyway, like I need a new baby carrier. But it seems really simple and Tommy loves being on my back like a monkey baby ("Bobo, Mama, Bobo! Please!"--- a reference to the Hug book during which Bobo and Mommy find each other again--- it was the first book he could "read" out loud so all monkeys are "bobos" in our house.)

We still use the mei tai carrier sometimes but as he gets heavier and my right shoulder gets more and more jacked up, the straps become more painful. We also use the big ole honking Kelty backpack for walks in the snow but that is so damn bulky.

The point is not necessarily that I need another carrier. It just seems like a project I could actually do and if I mess it up, I can still use it. It is basically sewing a big trapezoid. How are can that be? HA!

I will report back when I manage to turn the damn machine on successfully. Wish me luck! Or patience or something like that.

Other projects:
Sewing cute patches on clothing (I got one for Stephen for Christmas and promised I would attach it for him).
Making fleece mufflers for kids and me. ****(might start with this one. it would be timely to finish this before the crocus come up and maybe it would be easier than managing 6 yards of fabric all at once.)

End of an Era

2011-01-11T12:09:00.004-05:00

I will never nurse anyone again. All of a sudden, it all feels very final and sad to me. While I think T and I had both been ready to give it up for a while, it just seems like it happened so fast. I think I need some sort of closure--- a funeral or celebratory cake or something.

For the past year, he has only nursed at night and first thing in the morning. There have been MANY nights when I have said to myself, or sometimes out loud, that I was "so over this nursing shit". But then the sun would come up and my sanity would return. I would get to stay under the covers longer than Papa nursing my little man and I would be so filled with love and joy and pride all over again. I know some of it is purely hormonal but the difference in feeling and emotion when it is the dark of night and the early morning dawn is the difference between, well, night and day.

For the past few months, he would sometimes skip a morning nurse but usually still want to nurse around 1 or 2am. Sometimes Stephen would go get him and bring him to bed. I would pretend to still be sleeping and T would just snuggle up and fall back asleep. I had been wanting him to stop night-nursing, right?

Then why am I so sad about it? I think it just happened without me noticing and that makes me sad. I just realized on Saturday morning that I couldn't remember the last time we had nursed. He hadn't asked for it, with his little sweet finger to lips bubbly sound, in many days--- at least five. So, I figured, that's that. I guess we are done and I am OK. I talked about it a bit on Saturday and started to feel more and more sad about it throughout the day.

I was completely unprepared for his sweet little bubbly request mid-day Sunday just before his nap. He hadn't nursed in the middle of the day for months. He looked up at me as I rocked him and asked. I took a deep breath and for a moment, thought about nursing. Then I realized it had been such an easy transition for us and I would only be going back to it to make me feel momentarily better. The transition might be much for painful next time. So I told him that Mama's Milk was gone and that we couldn't nurse anymore. I am certain that I talked and talked and explained it way more than I needed to. He seemed completely fine with it, snuggled up to me extra tight and fell fast asleep.

Sigh... He hasn't brought it up again. He seems completely fine with it. It just all seems so final. No more kids--- we made that decision. But now it feels like my baby has just moved right on. I am happy, proud, ready. And still a little sad.

True Feminism

2010-11-10T13:28:00.005-05:00

I am rereading Anita Diamant's The Red Tent. I read it long ago, before I was a mother. Rarely do I write down quotes from books and things but I had one from this book up in my house for ages. Something about "life's hardships are like the knots holding the jewels in place on a beautiful necklace." Obviously, the first time I read this book, this is what I needed to hear.

This time around reading it, I have such a different perspective. I remember very little of the story but I am captivated by the discussions of childbirth and attitudes about women's bodies and cycles and relationships.

This is the phrase from the book that is sticking with me now, as a mama: "Why did I not know that birth is the pinnacle where women discover the courage to become mothers?" and "Until you are the woman on the bricks, you do not know the power that rises from other women--- even strangers speaking in unknown tongue, invoking the names of familiar goddesses."

I can get pretty worked up about the over-medicalization of childbirth. Evidence shows there are many negative results for health and relationships--- trouble nursing, struggle attaching, longer healing rates due to C-sections as the result of unnecessary interventions, etc.

This quote stirred something much greater in me. I feel like a generation or two of women struggle to feel confident as mothers. They lack the inclination to follow their "Mother's Intuition" and I feel like that phrase speaks to the very core of that.

Until women are in charge of our own childbirth process and TRUST ourselves--- our bodies, our hearts and our minds---- to birth our babies as naturally as possible, we will lack the courage to aptly parent our babies, children and teens.

We need to trust ourselves and right now, our society's about childbirth do not honor this need. I often lack the confidence to do what I need to do. If I can remember to think about birthing my babies every time, I will have such a surge of confidence and power. I have never felt so powerful as when I gave birth.

Old Parents

2010-09-21T11:45:00.000-04:00

I have old parents. Really old. My mom will turn 71 tomorrow. I was recently reading her recipe for pie crust ("It's the easiest thing in the world, Sarah. Just like this and like that and there you go!") In the recipe, which she wrote out last year, she calls for "Sticks of Oleo". I have never even seen Oleo but I know what she means. What I don't know is if I can use butter, not margarine. It did get me thinking about all the things that were said in my household growing up, some of which I say all the time. I wonder how that will work when I am 71 and my kids are this age. (I promise to leave out all the racial slurs/terms used by my family in the nicest way possible.)

Oleo = margarine
Davenport = couch
Afghan (before I had ever heard of Afghanistan) = throw/blanket--- not for your bed but for when you are on the couch reading.
Ottoman = footstool
Pocketbook = purse
Supper = dinner
Dinner = lunch

Having my daughter in school often makes me think of the Famous Angie Thompson Story.
My mom had me when she was 35. Although she still has beautiful, almost wrinkle-free skin, she had quite a bit of gray hair by the time she was 40 and I was in kindergarten. One day my mom was there helping manage the chaos that is kindergarten pick-up and one little girl came up to her. Angie Thompson, whose own mother was probably not yet 30, asked my mom, "Are you Sarah's Grandma?" My mother still tells this story so it obviously affected her. I had my kids at 30 and 34 and I am also getting quite gray. Thank goodness for this greasy skin I have hated all my life. Maybe I will be be smooth-skinned like my lovely mama. I wonder if any of Luna's classmates will ask me if I am her grandma? I have seen some of the other parents and I won't be surprised if it happens.

The System

2010-09-21T11:08:00.004-04:00

This is Luna's third week of school. I have cried. She has cried. I have cried some more. She started a new school this year. She is in the First Grade at a public school located in our neighborhood. She seems to be finally settling in and I cry less these days. We are trying to assimilate into this new world.

I am the Secretary of the PTO. I met with her teacher last week and her passion for teaching makes me feel much better about all sorts of things--- not everything though. Luna has had homework--- ridiculously stupid homework that required me reading the directions three times to explain. I tried to convince her she didn't need to do it. My daughter would have none of it. We compromised by having her do it but then I got to write a note at the bottom about how confusing it was.

Luna has been on "green" everyday. This means that she is sometimes rewarded with candy for doing what she is supposed to be doing. I am conflicted. Most of the time, I think this is a stupid system designed to treat to children like dogs and steal all of their intrinsic motivation for learning and doing the right thing. The rest of the time I want more than anything for her to be on "green" so that she feels good about going to school and has something of which she can be proud. On Fridays, the teacher sends home a paper that has a check for each day and says whether your child was on green, yellow, orange or red. Parents must sign it and return it on Monday. While I appreciate the idea of more communication/ not less, I am certain that when and if Luna ever moves off of green, I am going to need more information from the teacher than a check. What about those parents whose kids are all over the place? How do they know how to support their children to make better choices. I hope that the teacher is communicating with those families.

The other main issue I have with the system is that it does not reward students for being inquisitive and independent. It rewards them for being quiet and still and quiet and more quiet. Suffice to say that this mom is having a hard time adjusting from the free-thinking and exciting Montessori classroom to this traditional setting. I know that everyone will say that kids in the public education system need more structure and you can't possibly have that kind of freedom and autonomy with "these kinds of kids" but I still am not convinced. We do have a public "Montessori" school. Somehow it has been certified by AMI but the on-the-street knowledge I have of the school is that the teachers often revert to the reward/punishment system that is so common in American schools. Rather than blame "those kinds of kids", I would place the blame on system which requires public school teachers to do so much of this ridiculous testing and teaching to the test. I saw firsthand in Luna's classroom at Montessori that left to their own devices, the kids challenged themselves and learned new things all the time. How that would translate to these ridiculous tests, I can't say. Luna did have some children with special needs in her room. They received a little outside help and did require some extra attention from the teachers. Overall, though, I think these children were just as capable of functioning in the Montessori room and it was beneficial for my child to slow down and help others. It helped her learn things on a different level. It just makes so much sense. If we teach them at age 3 where everything goes and how to use things, they will be respectful of the materials and take pride in their work. If we, as adults, decide when they can pee, when they can look at numbers, when they can stand up and when they can look at letters, we are undermining their natural love of learning.

Obviously, I am still in mourning. Luna is doing fine. She is a rule-follower. She likes to make other people happy (which also terrifies me but that is another post altogether). She will work hard to do the "right" thing in her classroom. She is bright. She is already way ahead of the other children in her reading skills. She will do fine... She will do fine... Her mama on the other hand...

The Thinking Mom

2010-07-31T23:23:00.000-04:00

It constantly amazes me that otherwise tight-lipped, "polite" people think it is OK to give their opinions about your parenting. Complete strangers who would never talk about farts or burps or, heaven forbid, something interesting like sex, think it is perfectly OK to ask you all sorts of things like: "When are you having another one?" and "You should have had them closer together," and "Just you wait, you say you will never spank them now..." and "Breastfeeding is so much work. You should just open a can of formula."

Ask me about religion or politics, folks, and I am detached enough that I can listen to your drivel. But DO NOT tell me your stoopid thoughts on parenting my children. Trust me, I have thought about this one... and I am doing it quite well thank you.

Our Backyard

2010-05-19T21:48:00.004-04:00

These pictures are all taken in our yard and I especially love the ones in the woods. These are taken just a few feet into the woods behind our yard.
The other day, Tommy and I were hanging out in the sandbox in the yard and he started waving at someone in the woods. I turned around to see who it was and there were 3 deer standing right up where most of these pictures were taken--- right near the jack-in-the-pulpit.

Yeah, I said jack-in-the-pulpit. Luna and I were walking in the woods sometime last week and she said, "Are these jack-in-the-pulpit? They are one of the first signs of spring." I was surprised that she even knew what those were. I glanced around quickly and said no. I looked a little closer and saw that she was RIGHT! Where does she get this stuff? We were standing in the middle of dozens of them and she identifies them somehow by the leaves, NOT the actual jack-in-the-pulpit. I think it is hilarious because she has no idea about a pulpit or a preacher. I am sure I was 27 before I knew this plant even existed.
The kids have been really having fun together lately. Luna reads to Tommy all the time. I am still at home and loving it. I am so lucky to be able to spend my days digging in the garden, looking at worms and reading books with these little superstars.

Yesterday, Tommy laid on the sidewalk on his belly for over ten minutes watching ants work. I stopped what I was doing and squatted down next to him. I love that the my kids remind me to slow the f*** down. What an amazing life I have.

Raising a Renegade

2010-04-12T22:36:00.003-04:00

A week ago I read about an amazing idea on my favorite blog, Sweet Juniper. I then did a little research and decided to do it right here in lil ole Kalamazoo. I posted the blog entry on my Facebook page and received a lot of positive feedback and organized a seed bomb party for today.
Apparently, back in the day (like the 1970's), folks used to pack plastic easter eggs and holiday ornaments full of seeds and compost and throw them into abandoned lots and yards. They called themselves Guerrilla Gardeners. Today's versions of seedbombs seem to include far less plastic but the idea remains the same. There is a ton of information out there about the best way to do this but the one I enjoyed watching the best was this kooky Brit who seems to be at the "cutting edge" (so says Chad Boarman) of modern-day guerrilla garden-fare. Yes, despite what you might assume based on his hair, Richard Reynolds is, in fact, modern-day. The video is only 3 minutes long and worth it as I quickly fell in love with him and his grubby hands and Member's-Only jacket.

I began collecting seeds last week. I bought a few in bulk at our little local garden store and also started gathering up all the bits of seeds I had leftover from the years. I had a ton of sunflower seeds from the past decade. Who knows if they will sprout but this seemed like the perfect project in which to take the gamble.

I spent this morning calling around to all the craft stores in town as well as the big box home improvement stores but no luck. No one carries dry clay powder, apparently. I went back to Sweet Juniper's idea about using kitty litter. I was turned off by this originally because I have a strong aversive to touching anything cat-related but I decided that I needed to get over this--- for the sake of Green Things!
I bought the cheapest box of kitty litter I could find. Who knew that there was ENTIRE aisle at Target dedicated to such a product? As it turns out, not too many of the initial excitement carried folks over here on a gray Monday afternoon. It was me and the kids and our friend Matt. We worked diligently with 1 part seeds, 1 part compost and 5 parts kitty litter. The kids did a great job of making little balls closely resembling chocolate donut holes. Tommy only had to taste the mixture twice to decide he didn't want to eat it.

After we made a ton of donut hole seed bombs, we "delivered" a few. Luna isn't the best at being stealth so we had quite a few conversations about why we had to be quiet and whether or not what we were doing was legal and/or right. I think she is well on her way to being a force to be reckoned within the world of social activism. The girl has some VERY clear ideas about what is right and wrong.

Here are a few photos of my kids committing their first act of civil disobedience. Go to hell, Mr. Waner.

Hot Breakfast-- Served Daily... Somewhere

2010-04-12T14:37:00.002-04:00

This morning Suzy Homemaker (me) made the family oatmeal. I made the real kind that you have to get up a little bit early for and measure out and all that. (Admittedly, not a complex recipe but ANYTHING is complex for me before 9am--- I am NOT a morning person). I set out four colorful bowls. I scooped each person the appropriate serving size (biggest for me). I crumbled the correct amount of brown sugar on top, according to age and height. Then I topped each bowl with the tiniest bit of milk-- for flavor and to cool it down.

I served the bowls to the kids; they began eating heartily. Then I started working on my tea. I hustled around and put a ton of white sugar in my cup and the perfect amount of milk. Ummm.... then the milk curdled in my tea.

I looked at the kids' half-eaten bowls of oatmeal. I called Papa over for consultation. Yep. He dumped his immediately. I nonchalantly (yeah, right) took the kids' bowls away and tried my best to salvage the non-contaminated part of the oatmeal. I placed in in a new bowl and topped it with fresh milk from the unopended one in the fridge. Things started to get blurry. Seriously. I was so low on sugar. I only have about 15 minutes from when I first stand up to when I need food in my system and we were WAY outside that window. Of course, the caffeine headache was screaming at me too and here I needed to start a completely new kettle of water. Eventually, I sat down with my salvaged bowl of oatmeal. We ate it. We all seem OK.

The moral of the story: Thank goodness for my addiction to Lyons tea, for without it, I would have continued serving my kids spoiled milk and then who the hell knows what would have happened!

Adult Ed

2010-04-09T14:13:00.005-04:00

Education is lost on the young.

Here is sit trying to fill out paperwork to get an unemployment deferment for the student loans I still owe listening to Studs Terkel's Hard Times radio program on the Great Depression and thinking about how much I didn't learn back then. There are so many emotions contained in that very long run-on sentence.

I am thinking about these idiots from the Tea Party and wondering if they have ever met someone like me. I am sure they would think that a stay-at-home mother of two kids who has had her kids on Medicaid and has received WIC benefits must just be a loser. I am thinking that if we didn't have insurance and one of our kids got really sick, we would never be able to get out of debt. As it is, our deductible for our current insurance policy is $3000 so we would be hit pretty hard by anything other than a regular trip to the doctor's office. We pay $400/month out of pocket for our current plan--- apparently, we make too much to get Medicaid now that I receive unemployment benefits and my insurance coverage was cut off. We work so hard. We have everything we need. We really do. We are happy and I am not complaining. I do wonder who the hell these people are and what bubble they live in. In the past year 3 of my parents' 4 children have been unemployed and the 4th went to Colombia for a job! I want to spit in the faces of those ignorant Tea Party fuckers. That would prove to them that I am, in fact, not a loser at all. Ha!

I am thinking that I wasted so much time in college when I should have been educating myself by actually reading Studs Terkel. He came to MSU and James Madison students had a private audience with him and I might now even have gone. I was high as a kite at Noam Chomsky's talk with 15 other students from JMC. I was too young to know how important these people were and didn't care about history. DIDN'T CARE ABOUT HISTORY! I thought history was boring. Here I sit listening to stories recorded in the 1970's about the Depression. Here I am watching history repeat itself in this fucking country and feeling helpless and ignorant. I wrote about my recent obsession with old M*A*S*H episodes. God dammit if we aren't repeating that history over and over again. Let's send a bunch of young people across the world to get killed and maimed (inside and out) and why again? Why?

So, I married a guy with a passion for history (and a degree in it, too). Every so often I hear these pieces on NPR or read a novel about a time in our history I am completely ignorant to. We have these great talks about the books I was supposed to read in college that covered these topics and I start my education all over again every day. Today, I put The Grapes of Wrath on hold at the library because of what I just heard.

I am just kicking myself because I feel like I had some AMAZING opportunities for knowledge at James Madison, I really did. A short list of people who came to MSU and/or James Madison while I was there: Studs Terkel, Angela Davis, Sistah Souljah, Noam Chomsky, Tim O'Brien, various members of the Black Panther Party. Alas, I was 17 and can't feel too badly. College is wasted on the young. At least, this young one who is not so young anymore but is still paying loans for the education which she didn't receive all because of her lust of Oberon or the beach or road trips or sleeping in or silly boys. Of course, I married one of those silly boys I skipped classes with while drinking Oberon and sleeping in and taking road trips. That makes it all worth it.

History will repeat itself. Our children will most likely do some of the stupid things we did. God help me.

The Way to Get a Brownie

2010-03-25T13:38:00.002-04:00

"My mom needs wine! My dad needs beer! Why can't I have a brownie?"

We both had a drink in our hands. She got the brownie.

How Tommy Got That Phillips-head Screw Scar OR "Do you think he wants a boy band-aid or a girl band-aid?"

2010-03-24T13:25:00.003-04:00

It started like many weekend mornings-- all of us padding around in our jammies while Papa read the newspaper. I started getting ready for the day and packing up all of our cold weather gear. The day before, it had been sunny and 65. We planned to head out to Kellogg Forest for their annual Maple Syrup weekend, even though it was only 30 degrees and gloomy. After some parental crankiness (towards each other) about our expectations for the day, we set off. It started snowing. In an attempt to maintain my idyllic version of our "family day", I suggested we turn around, stop at Mackenzie's for a sweet snack and head to the museum.
All sugared up and happily playing at the museum, things seemed perfect. Then I heard it. The loudest THWACK I have ever heard followed by... wait, wait... WAHHHHHHH! In the one place on the planet completely designed for small people--- the preschool room at the children's museum--- our little guy bashed his head. He was in the small planetarium reading room area (really just a circular room smaller than our coffee table with a starlit ceiling). Apparently, he tripped over one of the reading pillows and stopped his entire body weight by ramming his forehead into a rounded screw on one of the beams. I grabbed him and knew he was REALLY in pain. It started bleeding immediately and as head wounds are known to do, bled and bled and bled. Before the blood really started gushing and getting stuck in his hair and dripping all over the floor, I looked closely at the wound and saw that it was the perfect little cross found only on a Phillips-head screw. There were a few minutes (seconds maybe) of wondering about going to the hospital and a concussion and all that. As it was, it bled a lot but was a relatively small wound so there was no need for stitches. Within a few minutes wherein he would NOT let me apply an ice pack, he wanted to go back to playing. He was fine, really fine.

Big sister and the rest of us, on the other hand, were obviously in shock. Luna just started screaming and did this on and off for a few hours. She did that terrified (not shrill) scream I associate with the subconscious screaming people do during nightmares. Even after we all knew he was OK, she was still struggling to cope. Stephen kept disappearing into one of the other rooms and leaving me with two screaming children. This idiot supervisor came to ask me a bunch of questions for her incident Report (I know her to be an idiot having nothing to do with her report). I finally told her she had to ask Stephen while I continued to attempt soothing both kids.

The other museum worker (the one in the kids' room who saw it all go down) was actually quite helpful. I liked her, even. And then she went and did it. "Do you think he wants a boy band-aid or a girl band-aid?" WHAT THE FUCK?! First of all, he is screaming and bleeding. I am looking for usefulness at this point. Second, he is a baby and has never watched any of your trashy shows that one finds on gender-specific everything. Third, what the fuck? Luna has been known to request the Cars Pull-ups. My 5-year-old knows enough about the use of language to say "the Pull-ups with the Cars on them" instead of "boy Pull-ups". Well, at least, she knows how to avoid a long lecture from her mother about such things.
In the middle of screaming children, I start saying, "There is no such thing as a boy or girl band-aid. He is a baby with a head wound for God's sake!" (Could this be why Stephen left the room? Hmmmm....)
After Tommy had settled down and I was trying to round up our things and get Luna calm, this idiot dad (he had proven himself an idiot several times in the previous hour I had watched him interact with his own children) stops Luna and me and starts in with some attempt at a joke. It was some stupidity about how Tommy will be fine because of the "guy motto". I just interrupted him and said, "That's not even funny at all." Luna and I just walked away.
It was an action-packed day for us. It has been 4 days and Tommy's head looks great. A nice clean cut. Luna still gets weepy about it whenever we change his band-aid or look at it. She has said several times that she wishes she had fallen instead of her. This freaks me out on some Catholic guilt level but that is another blog entry entirely.

Tommy got to wear a ponytail all week--- mostly to keep his hair out of his wound but maybe just a little bit as a "fuck you" to all those "helpful people" we met last Saturday.

So this is what it means to be a mother...

2010-03-21T16:05:00.005-04:00

This morning, I got smacked in the face--- figuratively. In a matter of seconds, I became acutely aware of exactly what my mother felt for years, and may still. No matter how hard I work, no matter how giving I am, it will never be enough; it will never be appreciated. I realize this sounds very melodramatic and I don’t mean to do the whole martyr thing. However, it is true.

Let me back up. The kids were in bed with me this morning. At some point in the night, Stephen must have snuck out of bed to stretch out luxuriously in Luna’s twin bed. Granted, he doesn’t quite fit in it, but he did get it all to himself. He didn’t have to worry about someone waking up and falling out of bed if he had to go to the bathroom and he certainly didn’t have to sit up and nurse anyone on demand in the night. I digress.

There we were. In the early morning light, the kids were playing in bed while I tried to stay warm and horizontal as long as possible. Luna got the flashlight out and that was tons of fun---under the covers and on the ceiling. At some point, things started to get a little more exciting and I should have made the call at that point to get up. I didn’t. Tommy started swinging the flashlight all about. This is no ordinarily flashlight. This is a big black Maglight--- a 3-cell, weighing in at least 3 pounds.

Mind you, the kid has a huge gaping wound on his forehead from yesterday which all of us are much more concerned about than he appears to be. There were several audible gasps from Luna and me as he swung the flashlight closer and closer to the wound. I envisioned blood gushing all over again and my stomach did flip flops as he casually wielded this huge wand as if he were a kendo master-in-training.

I finally said something along the lines of, “Be careful, Tommy. I don’t want you to smack anyone with that thing, including me.” Without missing a beat, Luna replied calmly, “You are always just thinking about yourself, Mama.”

What the fuck? I repeat, WHAT THE FUCK? We were all just hanging out. What did I do to deserve that kind of shittiness? I’ll tell you what I did. I woke up early and played quietly with the kids while their dad slept soundly in the other room. I cut up the fruit last night for a huge fruit salad for breakfast. I planned out a healthy menu for the week while their dad looked at hockey scores on the computer. Can you tell where this is going? While Stephen slept, he became culpable in an anti-mama coup. Under attack, I felt like crawling under a very big rock and staying there and letting them all eat undercooked pancakes and go out with snarly hair and dirty teeth and wrinkled clothing. I wanted to stay under said rock while the bills piled up and the kitchen floor got filthy and the refrigerator got bare and the thank you notes were left unwritten and unsent and the lunchboxes remained empty and the children ran around in winter boots because no one else would dream of digging out the spring clothes.

I know my dear readers know that I am married to an awesome man. So… this entry will not be devoted to this. This is devoted to the idea that he is always, and will most likely remain forever, the good time guy. He is the fun one who never demands that anyone brush their teeth or put on clean underwear or a long-sleeve shirt on a very cold day. He is not the one who sorts through the ill-fitting and out-of-season clothes. He is not the one who plans the menu or goes to the grocery store or cooks the food. He is the one who “does the dishes” but is not the one who wipes down the counters or the table or scrubs the pots and certainly is not the one who puts them away.

Poor man is under attack himself and he was not even the one who lobbed the first grenade; the five-year-old with too much power did. He slept through the whole battle, which is, in fact, a reason for court-martial.

Back to the exciting battle. I will be honest. I pouted for a few minutes. I didn’t even respond. I got up and went to the bathroom and then she said something else: “C’mon, Tommy. Mama isn’t being very kind, is she?” Again with the WHAT THE FUCK? I hadn’t even said anything back to her but apparently, my pouting was loud. I turned then and did something so stupid and not at all in line with the communication skills have tried to teach over the years. I told her some dumb shit about how all I ever do is think about other people and I never get to do anything for myself and as this is coming out of my mouth, I am thinking that I have gone and done it. I have turned completely into my mother with the woe-is-me-aren’t-I-a-horrible-mother crap. My mother is a great mom. For real. In so many ways, I have learned to emulate what she does or has done. Every once in a while, she turns out this drama and makes things all about her. An example was when my oldest brother decided he was an alcoholic and needed to stop drinking. It was serious. We all knew he was an alcoholic and I saw it as a great thing. My mom, apparently, had been in complete denial and was SHOCKED by the whole thing. She went on and on for weeks about what a horrible mother she must have been to raise an alcoholic. Again with the WHAT THE FUCK?

Hmmmmmm…. I think I am digressing again. Suffice to say that a few hours and a long, hot shower later, I think I have a decent perspective on it all. My little stinker is in the business of testing her parents. That is her job. My job is to love her unconditionally. I know that I need to let her know that I have feelings and she needs to be careful with her words. However, I do not need to let her get to me like that. I do not need to pout or fly off the handle on her. I need to tell her that she hurt my feelings and that in our family we don’t talk to each other like that. I also need to be confident in my mothering and in myself (my Sarahing). I need to actually think of myself once in a while so if she says that again, there can be some truth to it. I need to hire a sitter once in a while so I don’t feel so overwhelmed all the time. I need to do yoga and I need to go for walks alone sometimes. I need to take better care of myself so that I am a better mama. So that on a Sunday morning when someone says something hurtful, it does not consume me completely.

At Home With the 4077th

2010-03-11T21:44:00.006-05:00

We don't really have TV. We get a few weird stations but I do most of my TV watching online. I also check out items from our library and then there is no pressure. If I watch them, great. If not, I just return them.

I checked out Season 7 of M*A*S*H from our library last week and have been torturing myself with episodes here and there all week. If there is one television show that was a constant in my younger days, it was M*A*S*H. I watched it in "real time" when I was too young to know what was going on. What I did know was that it was something my entire family did together--- a show that my parents AND my teen-aged brothers liked. Later, I watched it in syndication. It seemed like it was on 4 times a day. As I got older, I got the humor (I now realize how much I missed) and the heaviness (thank goodness I missed a lot of that). I understood that it was funny and dark and a really well-made show. Mostly though, I understood that it was something all my siblings did together. We watched M*A*S*H before dinner (it ran at 5 and 5:30). While I whined about some of the other TV battles I lost (to crap shows like Gunsmoke), I genuinely liked M*A*S*H as well as any little 8-year-old could.

By the time I was in middle school, I embraced my dorkiness and challenged anyone I could find to a M*A*S*H quiz. Not surprisingly, I didn't find many takers. Nor did I find many people who could stump me.

This same dorkiness continued as an adult, as has my love affair with this show. I started watching it again a few years back on TVLAND when we had bootleg cable. It seems they often had M*A*S*H marathons and I would settle in with a box of tissues and my bag of pretzels. As an adult, I began to realize the depth of the show and the serious anti-war stance the producers took. I was amazed at the current-day relevance of so many of the topics tackled. The show just reminded me how fragile we all are and I just couldn't believe we had found ourselves in another one of these wars across the world for reasons lost on those fighting. Why do we keep doing this?

I have been watching them again (as our library recently acquired the entire collection, it seems). I keep going back to this feeling of being "at home". Hawkeye and B.J. feel like older brothers to me--- partly because I so closely associate this show with my own older brothers. It is a strangely comforting, yet melancholic feeling I get when I watch these old episodes. Last night I watched "Our Finest Hour". It was an episode which was done as a newsreel with a war correspondent featuring the 4077th. It ended up being a sort of "best of" episode. One minute I found myself laughing hysterically at the slapstick pranks they pulled on each other (shoe polish on Colonel Potter's binoculars so he had two black eyes). The next moment I started bawling my eyes out when Radar says he will remember one day when he goes home. Before he even starts to tell the story, I know he is going to remember the day Colonel Blake was discharged only to be shot down over the Sea of Japan. I cried and cried.

Tonight, I opted for a few more episodes of this weird mix of light-hearted laughter and depressing homesickness. I randomly chose this episode called "Dear Sis" wherein Father Mulcahy expresses feeling of uselessness in a Christmas letter to his sister (a nun). Of course, Father Mulcahy puts together a wonderful Christmas celebration. Hawkeye asks everyone to toast him and to show their gratitude, they had rehearsed a Latin hymn. Which Latin hymn, you ask? Oh, just the one that makes me cry every time I hear it. I just take it so literally. I sang it on a bus with Dominican nuns on our way to a peace rally in D.C. (BEFORE the Iraq War, if you can believe it). I sing it as a lullaby to my babies. I sang it lifetimes ago with my girls, Bridget and Becky, hoping for peace from that wacky Mr. K.

Here is the 4077th's version of Dona Nobis Pacum

Give Us Peace

Sweet Sweet Sunday Morning

2010-03-07T21:02:00.002-05:00

The sunshine was coming through the blinds earlier than yesterday. Spring is officially here in Michigan. Luna scurried in our room and climbed in our bed as soon as she heard Tommy call out, "Oooonnnna."

Stephen and I kept our eyes closed trying to eek out a few more minutes of rest. Luna read Tommy's favorite book to him--- cover to cover. Although it was her favorite book for a long spell (clear mailing tape to prove it), this wasn't from memory. I heard her slow down and stumble on the more challenging words like "excited" and "brush". She even corrected herself once," Wait, that doesn't say 'I take off", it says, 'I take them off'."

Our little girl is reading--- reading to our little boy. I couldn't be happier. It was just one of those sweet sweet Sunday mornings.

Itchy Fingers

2010-03-02T15:40:00.004-05:00

Old Organic Gardening Magazines stacked next to toilets and on nightstands. Stealing little moments here and there to look at square foot garden plans and varieties of sweet potatoes. Colorful photographs of zinnias of every shade. Sketches of vegetable gardens on scraps of paper. Imagining dirt under fingernails. Planning kids' playhouses made from giant sunflowers and morning glories.

Kentucky Wonder Pole Beans
Beets
Kaleidoscope Mix Carrots
Broccoli
Cucumbers
Baby Salad Greens
Basil
Dill
Mint
Parsley
Cilantro
More Carrots
More Beans
Heirloom Tomatoes

In lieu of a spring break trip to the Virgin Islands, I can get myself excited about seed catalogs and worm bins.

Yoga Baby

2010-03-02T15:14:00.003-05:00

Ever tried to do yoga with a 14-month-old before? I try to squeeze it in during nap time but rarely manage after tidying up, checking Facebook (colossal waste of time-- might give it up for Lent even though I am not Catholic), getting something prepped for dinner. The other day, I thought to myself, "I will just do yoga this morning when he is awake. It won't be nearly as relaxing but it will be good for him to start practicing with me."

Hehe. My little one is really keen on banging his head on things--- sometimes he does it when he is upset or frustrated. Sometimes he does it because it must feel good (needs a completely separate blog entry).

I put on my favorite yoga DVD, dimmed the lights, turned up the heat and got the water bottle handy. After a few minutes of him trying to bang with all of his might on the keyboard, it seemed he settled in to what was going on and joined me on the mat.

Has anyone tried to relax into a downward dog with a toddler crawling in and out of your arms and legs with his head inches from yours? With the possibility of a headbutt looming, it is not very meditative, to say the least.

I deserve to do yoga during nap time. Dishes, laundry, bills, dinner prep, phone calls can all wait. Right?

Tomorrow, I promise, Sarah.

A Proper Date

2010-02-15T21:53:00.004-05:00

We went on a date. Tis true. My brilliant friend and neighbor suggested a while back that we do a date swap for Saint Valentine's Day. Sounds wild, huh? She meant swapping the childcare :-)

Stephen and I got to go out the night before V-Day... Saturday. Since we rarely leave the house together, we decided to go somewhere we could actually sit and be served rather than wait for 90 minutes in the February cold at one the more popular places in town. We settled on the downtown sushi bar (mainly because they have a wait list system similar to reservations). I had never been there and it was full of people under the age of 23. Neither of us knew a soul there so it also had that cool effect of making us feel like we were in a completely different city.

I hadn't had sushi of any sort in years (since leaving Arizona, I believe... well, maybe once or twice in Chicago). Although this place has a good reputation, I still stuck with the safety of rolls. I got my old eel roll standby and tried a few new things. I washed them all down with several seven and sevens (try saying that when you've had several).

All in all, we had a really nice time. We talked about the kids. We talked about Stephen's work. We "gasp" talked about other things. We laughed coquettishly at each other's jokes. We eavesdropped and judged people. We made up stories about people based on what they ordered and their tattoos. We laughed a lot.

We still got it baby. Still got it.

Bad Mommy Moment #347

2010-02-14T13:39:00.004-05:00

He is finally asleep. As he gets more and more active, going to sleep (especially naps) are becoming increasingly difficult. In the past few weeks, there have been days it has taken 45-60 minutes to get him to sleep. Needless to say, I am furious for a good amount of that time and do and say things I shouldn't.

It is a sunny February Sunday. I have nothing planned for the day. Really... nothing. I am not in a rush to get to the store or to run errands. I have no appointments or plans of any kind.

He was tired and yawning. We did lunch and headed upstairs at 12noon. We read some books. He threw a fight because he wanted to hold the books. This prevented any real reading from happening. At 12:20 or so, he seemed to be settling in. We laid down to snuggle him into dreamland. He wasn't having it. Up and down, trying to get off the bed, jumping up and down again, bumping head against wall (this weird pastime deserves its own blog post), scratching me, snuggling, smacking my head, jumping again, snuggling.

Patience left the building. I could feel the ire building in my body. I was tense and furious. I kept lying him back down but could feel myself being a tiny bit too rough that last time. I picked him up and snuggled him on my lap and decided.

Today he was going to learn to go to sleep on his own. My 14-month-old son who has taken to joining us in our bed earlier and earlier each night (after he goes to sleep initally, we carry him to his crib) was going to learn how to put himself to sleep.

I have never tried "crying-it-out" with this guy. I tried it once with Luna and I couldn't handle it. I have never done with him as I knew I was not cut out for it. Today I felt like it was a safer option that Crazy Mommy losing her shit.

At 12:41, I carried him to his crib with his blankie. I assured him he would be fine and I loved him. I put him down in his crib. I walked out of the room. I left the door open. I went around the corner to my room and I curled up in a fetal position with a view of the clock. I find watching the clock to be very important in moments like this. It helps me stay connected to this world. It also helps me realize that my kid has only freaked out for 3 minutes and NOT the 32 minutes it feels like.

He whined and whimpered but didn't really lose it.... until the phone rang. It was Papa. I picked it up. He heard my voice just one room away and cried. He never got hysterical. I told myself I could go get him if he got hysterical. He cried a bit and stopped. He cried a bit and stopped. It was tough. I watched the clock. I considered whether or not this was the way it was going to be. Was I going to do this from now on or was this just a coping mechanism on a gorgeous sunny day when I almost lost my cool?

I haven't decided but he is asleep. I feel like a horrible human being. I know he is fine but I still feel like an ass-- partly for putting him in this situation and partly for not snuggling him when he cried.

P.S.-- Papa got home. Tommy woke up 34 minutes into his nap. Papa went upstairs and took him to bed with him for a nap. I am furious, this time with a different young man in our family.

Get Outside Every Day

2010-02-03T13:49:00.001-05:00

I read this or heard this a long time ago. Lately, it is imperative that I remember this and act on this bit of advice. IMPERATIVE.

It is February. Although this is a short month, it has been a tough month for me historically. 2010-- I am staying at home with a little one. I do not have a car most days and even when I do, I am home from 12-3 every day for a little one's nap. On top of that, it is crazy cold and who wants to drag a little kid in and out of a car seat and into Target and Meijer's for the sake of a bargain on baby butt wipes all the while sweating profusely in a down coat? Not this mama.

Solution: Get Outside Every Day

The big one usually has a rough transition at the end of her school day. Even when I greet her at the door with a smile and favorite snack in hand, there is inevitably a certain amount of shrieking and tears. Yesterday, Little Bro and I met her at the door in our snow gear and ready for some serious snow play. It was not as cold as it had been (a balmy 28 degrees) so we pulled the old wool socks up to Tommy's elbows and tackled the crunchy sticky snow--- the best packing and sledding snow I have seen yet this season.
These photos were all taken in our backyard. Yes, our very own backyard.

After 7 years of life on a nasty, pot-holey alley within spitting distance of one's neighbors, the magic of having a small stand of woods in our own backyard is not lost on me. We go "adventuring" and "hiking" all the way to the top of hill (where we meet the backyard fences of the mansions at the top of the hill/other side of the tracks). We have picnics in the snow. We look for fairy houses and toads.

And on cold gray days in February, we build tiny little snow people with baby carrots for noses.

Papa Love

2010-02-02T13:57:00.002-05:00

We are turning the corner. While my little guy still seems to prefer Mama when he is tired/hurt/hungry/upset, he has now started reaching for Papa. He calls out "Papa?" in the early morning, when we are in one room and we hear something in another room and as we look out the window. It has the sweetest little cadence--- "Pa-PA?"

Stephen stayed home for 8 weeks when Luna was born and then quit his job to stay home with her full-time when she was 9 months old. Those two are thick--- really thick. He and Tommy have struggled to find their spots with one another. I notice a HUGE difference in their interactions after any length of time together--- vacations and holiday breaks. As Tommy becomes more and more independent, he seems to be happier all the time with "Papa?" and this makes Mama so happy to see her two boys together. (Please excuse the third-person storytelling just this one time.)

I Blew Out Her Candle

2010-01-28T13:31:00.003-05:00

Last week, my daughter and I were having some really tough days. I think I have finally hit that impossible part of the long Midwestern winters for me. I am at home with a baby and often car-less. We walk a lot but some days are just too bitter to bundle up his little guy. Last week, my entire world was covered in a dirty gray icy substance--- cold and bitter and lacking any of the prettiness of fresh snow.

Can you tell I am using a lot of excuses to build up to saying that I was being a Mean Mama? Perhaps completely unrelated (but probably not), my daughter was being pretty mean herself. One morning, when I was pre-black tea and VERY snippy, she gave me this card as she left for school and asked me to keep it with me all day:

It reads, "I love you, Mom. Even when you are grumpy."

Shit. I vowed to myself to be patient and kind and Nice Mama when she got home from school-- no matter what. I thought about how I would greet her and what we would do. That time after school is tough for us. The little one is usually starting to get tired. The big one is DEFINITELY tired from a day of thinking and working. I am just always tired. I am trying to cook dinner and find the delicate balance between healthy snacks for hungry kids and not ruining the dinner I am working too hard to prepare. In short, we are all waiting for that glorious moment when Papa walks in the door to save us all from each other.

Finally, her school day was over and she walked in the door. I was cheerful but not overbearing. I gave her space but was totally committed to being positive and pleasant. I had a snack ready for her. She did not reciprocate my positivity, to say the least. When I asked her to wash her hands, she started screaming in this shrill tone only a 5-year-old girl can access. My patience left the building. I said things I should not have to an exhausted 5-year-old. Things like, "You are choosing to ruin this evening." Not my best Mommy Moment.

Once she settled herself down, she asked me if I still had the card. I told her I did. It was in my sweater pocket hanging on the back of my chair. She went and got it out and started looking at it. I went to her and hugged her. She said to me, "Mommy, you blew out my candle." I asked, "What candle?" She said, "The one in my heart." I squeezed her tighter and started to cry. After a moment, she asked, "Mommy, did I blow out your candle too?" I nodded. We hugged for a long time.

2009 Vacation Pictures

2010-01-21T13:05:00.005-05:00

On that note... Our sweet little cabin on Spider Lake, Michigan in August 2009.

"What do you wish for?"

2010-01-21T12:10:00.003-05:00

Last night as I was lying in bed with Luna, I asked her about what she wanted for herself when she was older. Without missing a beat, she said, "A horse." As I was asking follow-up questions about what this horse would look like and where she would live, she asked me, "Mama, what do you wish for?" I thought it was interesting how she changed the question.

I have always been a big one for wishes. I believe there is a great deal of power in wishes. I believe that you are never given the power to wish for something unless you also hold the power to make that wish come true. Straight up. I also have always gotten all my wishes-- the really big ones anyway. I married My One True Love. I have these two amazing kids. I really like the work I do. I take this wish stuff seriously. In fact, I went through a big change a few years ago where I really looked at my language and try to only have things come out of my mouth I want to put out into the Universe. On the small scale, this is asking Tommy to DO what I want him to do rather than telling him all about what he CAN'T do. I have consciously tried to eliminate the word DON'T from my vocabulary.

So... lying there in bed with my 5-year-old... I couldn't think of anything I wished for. I was very happy to be able to tell her that I have everything I wanted--- a loving husband and Papa to my children, two beautiful and healthy children, a warm house I love and hope to stay in forever and ever. I was all blissed out and dreamy in the dark next to her.

She wouldn't let me off the hook, though. I did think about a few monetary things-- loans paid off, a new car, etc., but nothing seemed good enough to merit saying out loud. Then I thought of one.

I said, "I wish that we always have the time and money to take a nice vacation together every summer-- just the four of us, to reconnect and see new things together." This satisfied her and lying there I realized I really meant it. I know we have the power to make that one happen.

New Decade's Resolution

2010-01-16T20:48:00.003-05:00

I was just looking through old issues of Mothering trying to find an article for a pregnant friend. I found this piece written by the mom of a 20-year-old. When her daughter was 8, they formed a book club with several other mom/daughter combos. They met regularly and even went on related field trips over the years. The girls and moms still meet on summer breaks from college and cooked food related to the books they read.

I am just putting this out into the universe as something I want to do with my daughter. She and I often struggle to connect with one another. One way we have been doing so lately has been reading books in the evening. Even if she only stays up 20 minutes past her little brother, it is an amazing 20 minutes of my attention and snuggles on the couch. We have always read to her (and I do mean ALWAYS... even when she just wanted to chew on pages) but now we are into the world of chapter books and it is a whole new world. She is reading a bit too on her own but she really has the ability to focus more on books without pictures. We read a few of the Doll People books and are now onto the Ramona series! I loved those books as a kid and they are even funnier to me as a grown-up-- funny and poignant. Several evenings, Ramona and Beezus have given us a new way of looking at our own family's problems. It has been great for Luna to hear Ramona (the youngest) complain that her parents only love her older sister and NEVER give Ramona any attention! Ha!

Can someone out there remind me to organize this fabulous reinvention of book clubs in 3 years or so? Thanks.

Mr. Smartypants

2010-01-12T21:20:00.004-05:00

Why does he keep taking the outlet covers out of the outlets? Who does this? I will be in another room thinking he is playing quietly in a room that is relatively safe and he will come to me with several of them in his hand like an offering of treats or something.

Of course, I am not helping matters (the matter at hand, of course, keeping him safe and sound) by forgetting to do simple, yet life-saving tasks, such as: closing the attached gate at the top of the second story stairs, returning the other gate to its spot at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, closing the very hot oven once I get its contents out and turn off the oven, leaving the front burner on for hours with an empty pan and the handle turned out.

So far, so good. Tommy usually comes to me and "tells" me what is amiss. He'll keep coming to me and going back and doing this for a while until I figure out he is trying to tell me something.

Seriously, though, folks, I gotta get more sleep or something.

Thank Goodness for the Honesty of Five-Year-Olds

2010-01-07T14:23:00.003-05:00

If not for this, I might never have noticed the dark hairs that have sprouted on my upper lip sometime in the last year or so. I must admit to feeling a little offended and embarrassed when she pointed this out to me (with no judgment whatsoever... a simple observation on her part). At any rate, it was on my mind, although it took me a good week or so to look close enough in a mirror in daylight to notice them myself. This itself is a sad statement on my lack of self-care as a mama of two.

I had a moment while the baby played in the bathroom garbage can. The sun was shining so I busted out the handheld magnifying mirror and stood in front of the window. Apparently, I hadn't plucked my eyebrows in the last year either. I plucked and plucked and plucked and plucked and plucked. I am not really a good candidate for waxing as I have nicely shaped eyebrows, I just get strays all over the upper half of my face. I am thankful for what I have, though, as two of my brothers have SERIOUS uni-brows.

I am turning over a new leaf, though. While I love being a mama and staying at home, this winter stuff might get to me. I have been whining about not getting to work out and take care of myself. So, today, not only did I pluck my eyebrows and take care of my upper lip, I did an hour of yoga while the baby napped. The yoga is an old video I used to do often. I found it used on DVD and just had to buy it. It felt strange to do the same routine after all these years with the same relaxing voiceover:"Simple. Keep it simple." It felt like coming home. My body knew the moves before he said them and I barely had to look up at the screen. I hadn't realized that I did this routine so often but the old Muscle Memory kicked in and it felt wonderful.

The third item on m self-care list is writing on this old blog here. Writing really is therapy for me. Facebooking is NOT. Facebooking kind of feels like that old boyfriend you keep going back to. Not necessarily so bad for you since you are only having sex and not officially getting back together but deep down you know its not good for you. It just feels good right then in the moment. On the contrary, blogging feels strangely productive and positive. Probably because I have just the one reader (you know who you are!) and get only positive reinforcement. It feels a lot like journaling and we all know how good that is for my sanity.

The Thing about Having a Blog

2009-09-08T21:34:00.002-04:00

Is that it yet another source of guilt for me in a world full of things for which I can muster up guilt. Yeah, yeah.. behind on the blogging and pictures and documenting all the important aspects of my kids' lives.

"It's a TRADITION now!"

2009-07-08T12:43:00.004-04:00

Our 2nd annual 4th of July camp-out at Steven's Compound-- complete with our beloved Barry County characters.

Whatchu looking at, Uncle Larry?

The girls goofing around in the woods in the early morning sun.

Baby Mama Vibes

2009-07-08T12:18:00.004-04:00

My dear friend Shanna is in labor right now and I am thinking about her so much. I have an ancient phone and am horrible at texting (well, I am mainly just too wordy) so I thought I'd send my thoughts via blog (which she may or may not read once she is the mom of two little ones--- I am sure she will read it in all her spare time).

Here are some of my labor and delivery mantras:

1. Growing a baby and giving birth is, by far, the coolest fucking thing the human body can accomplish... ever... period.

2. My body was MADE to do this.

3. No one ever dies from pain. My body will only experience the amount of pain that it can handle.

4. When this is over, I will once again realize that I am so powerful and amazing. This is the best buzz in the world... ever... period.

5. This last one is less of a mantra but something that hung out in the back of my mind--- this experience is one that I am sharing with centuries of women across the world--- call it solidarity or community or what have you but I felt that a natural birth helped me to create an invisible bond with women from all over the globe.

Happy Birthing Shanna. You ARE amazing and powerful!

More Thoughts on Finger-Suckin'

2009-05-30T21:40:00.002-04:00

Yeah, he is really cute when he is so deep in sleep and slurping away. It has also made naptime SOOO much easier. I have recently transitioned to sitting on my yoga ball (thank you Ms. Burrell). That thing was my best friend during my pregnancy (aside from the body pillow). Anyway, we just bounce a few times, he sticks his first two fingers of his right hand in upside down and grabs on to my collarbone with his left hand. Even if he wakes up a bit when I lie him down, he can usually get himself back to sleep as long as he can get his fingers. So... I am not such a hater anymore. I have seen the light.

Finger-suckin' Good Y'all

2009-05-19T11:37:00.004-04:00

I think it is official. Tommy is a finger-sucker. He wouldn't take a pacifier and will NOT take a bottle. I was kinda happy that he wasn't that into a "pacey" as Luna had hers longer than I was comfortable with and getting rid of it was sort of challenging (for us-- I think she did fine). We did have a "Good-bye Pacey" party complete with cake and guests so it wasn't too painful of a process.

So with Tommy, I thought we were over the heavy-duty suckling stage. However, in the past 3 days, he has become a HARDCORE finger-sucker: Usually right hand, always two fingers--- sometimes middle two, sometimes first two. I must admit that he is really cute when he is sleeping and going to town but I have some hesitations about it (like I get a choice in the matter). Here they are:

1. I am a germaphobe. Dirt doesn't bother me, or sand or even worms. No, my germaphobia is specific to what I call "hand germs". Doorknobs, grocery cart handles (the worst!), computer keyboards, shaking hands, ewwww. Seriously, what a weird cultural norm. "Hello. Nice to see you. Let me spread the germs from my hand onto yours. By the way, I just sneezed and covered my mouth with my hand. Then I blew my nose a just a tiny bit of snot leaked out of the tissue onto my hand." What is wrong with touching foreheads like the Maori people of New Zealand? The idea of my kid sucking on his fingers someday after handling money or bathroom doors or car keys... is, well... too much for me to handle at this point.

2. Have you ever seen that movie "Thumbsucker"? Dark and creepy and weird. As a high school teacher, I always had a kid or two each year who sucked their thumb/fingers and let me just say that they had "issues".

3. Have you ever taught school/substituted/worked in a library/worked a cash register? "Nuff said. I have a tough time when I go to places like ice cream parlors and the guy handles your money and then dishes up your food. I feel like a freaker but I really wasn't like this at all until I started subbing for elementary schools my senior year of college. I was sick a lot and I became a neurotic handwasher.

4. You can throw away the pacifier but you can't cut off the thumb/finger. This is my control issue, I know.

Like I said, I hardly get a vote in the matter but a mama can fret, can't she?

The Aroma of Asparagus

2009-05-08T21:35:00.004-04:00

WARNING: This blog entry is kind of gross.

The other day Luna had a haircut scheduled at the "fancy-nancy" hair salon downtown. I love taking her there for the star treatment AND they have a fun boutique with weird, cool things (I bought her a pair of old-fashioned bike handlebar streamers for $3!). Usually, I try to take her and make it a big girl date but this time, Stephen couldn't get off work so Tommy came along too. It all worked out fine.

After the fabulous haircut and conversation with Alicia the Stylist, we walked up to our favorite spot-- the Food Co-op. That day, they were having their first "100-mile Farmer's Market" out in the parking lot. They'll have it every Wednesday all summer long and it will only get bigger and more splendid, I am sure. Obviously, not much is growing within 100 miles of us right now but we did grab some cookies (made with local eggs, butter and sugar) and some freshly picked asparagus.

I know I am prone to hyperbole but this was the best fucking asparagus I have ever had. It was so tender and fresh. Once you got down to the thicker part of the stalk, it was REALLY sweet in a way I have never noticed in asparagus.

(Here comes the gross part.) My least favorite part of eating asparagus is the scent of one's urine for the next 12 hours or so. I never noticed it until it was pointed out to me as an adult (I probably never ate asparagus as a kid anyway-- not by choice, I am sure). My dear friend Beth mentioned it one time in passing and now I think of it every time I eat asparagus. Well... the smell of one's own urine post-asparagus pales in comparison to this recent experience.

I won't go into much more detail. Let me just say this:

1. Luna wears a Pull-up to bed. She needs one, you see.
2. Luna also has gotten into bed with us most nights since Tommy was born.
3. It was a pretty warm night.
4. I was sitting up in bed with Tommy a lot that night.
5. It was a long and fragrant night.

Milestones

2009-04-06T12:48:00.003-04:00

With the second child comes the realization that you have forgotten things you NEVER thought you'd forget: the date on which your little one first smiled at you, first sat up, first pooped on the toilet... truly exciting stuff. It seems I have absolutely NO recollection of anything important in the last 5 years of my life. Other moms are always asking me at what age our little girl slept in her own bed, slept through the night (never), got teeth, ate chocolate, drank a beer, etc. I can't seem to remember anything. Thankfully, my dear hubby is always there to correct me when I pull facts and dates out of thin air.

One of the reasons for this blog in my little head is to document all the events of their short little lives... oh yeah, and to vent so as to maintain my tenuous grasp on sanity.

Anyway, here are some things I want to remember:

4/5/09--- L started sounding words out. While Papa and I slept on a VERY early Sunday morning, she sounded out all the words on Papa's t-shirt--- no small feat at "Building Blocks of Kalamazoo". "WHAT THE?" (that is Luna's other current milestone... I pray she never actually finishes that question)
Anyway, this seems to have happened overnight. She is getting to be quite skilled at sounding out words. I am headed to the library later to get some of those Easy Reader books. Horrible literature but they are really helpful.

4/6/09--- She tied her shoes! Also, while we slept. Actually, she tied the door to her fairy tent thingy closed while we slept but then later tied her shoes. WHAT THE?

4/6/09--- T is working so hard on sitting up! Any time I set him in a reclined position, as in the carseat or the swing or the bouncy chair... well anywhere he sits, I guess... he works so hard at sitting upright that I actually feel bad for him. He can sit up on flat surface with some support but this makes L nervous he will fold up on himself (a good possibility). He is sooo talkative-- especially at 6:15am. He has mastered that open-mouth squeal/squawk thing and will do it for ages it seems. He makes lots of sounds and is most happy when a person (okay, me) is a few inches from his face making all the same squawking sounds and having a bird-ish conversation. He will be so happy and looking you in the eyes and just talking away for ever. He also loves to sing and to be sung too. This works out nicely as L loves to make up songs and sing them directly into his little delicate ear-- high-pitched shrill songs. All about how much she loves him or about how the Queen Bee at school has ditched her for someone with longer hair or all about how she is mad at me and thinks she and T should live somewhere without their parents, except for Grandma and grandpa because they are "nice" or about how the Muppet Show episode with Maria from the Sound of Music (shall I go on?). His latest feat is grabbing both hands and pulling his arms up over his head (sort of-- he can't quite make it). His arms will be over his forehead and he makes all these hilarious faces with his eyebrows all smooshed down OR he is figuring out how to play peek-a-boo! Fun, fun, fun! (I am serious-- hilarity).

It came out of my mouth...

2009-03-13T22:25:00.003-04:00

Angry Mama: "If you kick me in the face, so help me god, you'll be sorry."

Tired Little Girl (covering face with hands): "What does that even mean?"

Less Angry Mama: "I have no idea."

Nothing left to do but snuggle, snuggle, snuggle.

Pet Peeve # 346

2009-03-13T20:38:00.003-04:00

Little girls' socks that NEVER fit. I buy her size, just like it says on the package. I buy bigger. They NEVER fit. The little cute pink heel section is always in the middle of her foot and her skin is always rubbing on the back of her shoe.

Reader: Bear in mind that this comment comes from someone who wears wool knee-socks for 5 months out of the year but the poor little dearie's feet are ALWAYS cold! WTF?

Tommy's Very First Out Loud Laughter

2009-03-13T20:35:00.002-04:00

Whisperin' Update

2009-02-22T20:50:00.002-05:00

So... the honeymoon with the Baby Whisperer was short. That was forever ago that we tried implementing all this new stuff. When I look back, we have done really well overall. I am doing a much better job of reading his cues (for sleep, for hunger or gas-- the Big Three) and so overall, there are fewer meltdowns-- for everyone.

However, I think I was delusional that he would just lie down in his little cradle and go to sleep and I would have all this free time! I did get her second book from the library yesterday and I did poke around on her website forum a few days ago. It has all made me feel better. The second book gets more into detail about HOW to do it all. The first book seemed to spend a lot of time trying to convince readers of the merits of a routine for babies and all that. I think I needed that 4 years ago. Now I see the necessity of a routine for my little ones so I want more practical stuff-- the HOW to make it work. The forum is just a bunch of regular folks talking about what has and hasn't worked for them. It made me realize that there are lots of ways to do it and it doesn't have to be EXACTLY like she says. Made me feel more comfortable taking from it what works for us.

So... we are still muddling through it. Still melting down sometimes but we're sticking to it. That's the story anyway.

FUCKS!

2009-02-22T20:37:00.004-05:00

Here I sit drinking wine and eating leftover popcorn and wondering if I am allowed to put that as the title to this post.

Luna has taken to yelling this expletive over and over. Our usual reaction to cuss words is to ignore them and she doesn't usually make a big deal out of them. Let's just say that I cuss. A lot. Sometimes I cuss around my kid. The Mister does NOT.

So, in the past when she has let "Shit!" fly or something of the like, we have asked her if she is upset and redirected by talking about that. It feels like in her mind, there is not difference between expletives like "Shucks!" and "Dammit!" or "Jankers!" and "Jesus Christ!" (which IS a cuss word in the home in which I grew up-- in fact, there are three things you better not ever say in front of my mom, a cusser herself, and they are JESUS CHRIST, FUCK AND SHUT UP, in that order).

Every once in a while, Luna gets ahold of a phrase and says it slightly incorrectly-- i.e. "Fucks!" and it is just too damn cute. I end up giggling and then the word sticks around a little longer. When she said it today-- 3 or 4 times in a row, Stephen asked her what she said. He asked her if she said "Books"? "No. Fucks!" Stephen asked her what that word meant and she said, "I dunno. It is just something you say when you are mad."

Damn mothafuckin' straight it is... shit.

15 Years of Jello Hearts

2009-02-14T20:53:00.005-05:00

1994: I first made jello hearts for my One True Love 15 years ago today. I took them over to his house in the afternoon. We sat around for a while and grinned at each other. Later on, when he was heading out on a date, he dropped by the Computer Lab at the Union where I was gearing up for an all-nighter and brought me a card.

1995: He called me from some island off the coast of Canada. Since we had still never kissed, I thought it was strange but it certainly made my heart flutter.

1996: I was playing hard to get at this point but I still gave him a used copy of Lady Chatterly's Lover AND jello hearts that year. A kiss was inevitable that spring.

1997-2000: Hmmmm.... living on separate ends of the earth, we still managed to exchange cards. Where was it all leading?

2001: He arrived at 10pm by train. I met him at the Flagstaff train station after 3 days en route. I had jello hearts for him. He had a duffle bag. He moved in to my place. We got engaged less than a month later and started planning a really fun weddin'.

PRESENT-DAY: We try to make it special without buying into the Hallmark BS. We get out and about. This year, we had a lunch date at our favorite Indian place. Tommy joined us but slept through the entire meal. Every year, he makes a homemade card and buys me a CD (usually Dolly Parton). I make him Jello Hearts. He doesn't really even like them but he eats them once a year. Now our children help me make them. We used to joke about making cute kids together. That was 15 years ago. We were right.

Baby Magic

2009-02-09T21:53:00.007-05:00

A new sheriff moved into town yesterday and her name is "The Baby Whisperer". In an attempt to regain some sense of sanity, I decided to try to get Tommy on some kind of routine. I was given this book when I had Luna. We made some feeble attempts at it but never stuck with it. Ahem... we still hold hands for 30+ minutes every night.

The Baby Whisperer takes a pretty sane, moderate and DEFINITELY humane approach to sleep and general life with Baby. She is not down with the give-all-of-yourself-all-the-time model of attachment parenting that I had been using. Nor does she support the Evil Dr. Ferber's cry it out method. Her whole thing is about teaching your kid to fall asleep on his own WITHOUT ruining torturing anyone (I tried the cry it out thing once with Luna and I was definitely the one tortured by it).

Without getting too much into detail, I am floored that we are at the end of Day One and Tommy laid in bed for 15 minutes by himself and then finally went to sleep on his own. No crying! He just was in there talking to himself and staring at the light of the Full Moon on the wall. I am amazed! Luna has NEVER fallen asleep on her own except for one hot summer day when she fell asleep reading books naked on her bedroom floor.
Wish us luck for Night One!

Caffeine Headache

2009-02-03T16:41:00.002-05:00

Really craving an afternoon cuppa. I was down to just one a day-- in the morning, but have allowed myself an afternoon cup lately. Didn't have one today and it is official-- I am addicted. My head is killing me. Indulge or abstain? Suggestions?

I know I DESERVE one, that is for sure. But as a nursing mama, I wonder if the baby really needs that second cup of ultra-strong tea.

Mmmmm... nothing like a cuppa Lyons.

Pregnancy Reflection, Part 1 (will there be a Part 2?)

2009-02-02T21:40:00.001-05:00

It really was a great pregnancy. I have to admit that I experienced more doubts and nerves this time around. People close to me had recently experienced some very tough times. One of my closest friends lost a baby at 20 weeks and I can't pretend like that didn't scare the hell out of me. I really thought about it most around that time in my pregnancy but it felt like a reality (and not just like something that happens to strangers) all along. In addition to that, my sister-in-law who initially planned a home birth went into early labor at 29 weeks. She ended up having the baby at 32 weeks in a delivery very far from her ideal. The baby is very healthy now at 7 months but the whole family struggled through several weeks or having to leave him in a hospital every night and going home without their wonderful baby.

I felt healthy and relaxed but these two events really did shape my feelings while pregnant with this child. With Luna, I never let a shred of doubt or concern enter my field of vision. This time around was different as people so close to me had so recently experienced so much loss and heartache.

The other big difference was being so exhausted all the time. I had this other person who needed my attention more than ever so naps were not an option (I think I took 2 naps the whole pregnancy). Moon was wonderful and excited and so interested but I was keenly aware of how this new baby would affect her little world. The last few weeks were a balancing act between excited anticipation and guilt that "things would never be the same".

I also decided that I would be leaving my position as director of the program that I created-- my first baby. I am staying connected and will still support the other staff but I wanted a chance to stay home with a baby (I returned to work full-time at 4 months) and NOT pump everyday all day. As the baby grew, so did my feelings around this decision. I still feel like it was and is a great decision. Financially, it will be tough on our family as we will go down to one meager non-profit salary. We did this before but were not paying for private school at the time. More than that, though, I have long tied my identity to my work. I will need to figure out a good spot to land with all these mixed emotions. My primary identity for the past four years has been as MOM. However, I was also the director and creator of this really cool program of which i am quite proud. So, now I need to trust that it will take a new direction and still be an awesome program. My primary job now is to nourish and nurture my two children. I am grateful for the opportunity, thankful that we live in a manner which allows us to exist on very little. I am also a little sad some days and lonesome for the hustle and bustle of the work I do. I will get back to it-- just not at 40 hours a week. I need to remind myself of this and enjoy the moments with these little magical people.

One amazing aspect of this pregnancy was my regular massages with Sister Maureen. Our hospital provides free massages as part of your pre-natal care for those who want them. I adore Sister Maureen and came to rely on her as much for spiritual guidance as for the massage. She is a wise woman who always asks the right questions and even gives great advice--- sparingly. I actually miss our talks a lot and might just ask her to tea one day soon.

I felt distinctly older with this pregnancy. I decided early on that I needed to work hard at staying fit and flexible. I had forgotten lots about my first pregnancy but one thing I recalled vividly was the pain I felt in my hips! We joined the Y and I started going regularly. At a certain point, I stopped doing any "land" exercise and worked solely in the water. Luna and I went to Open Swim a few times a week those last few weeks and that always felt so good and was nice for us to spend that time together-- just the two of us. I started going regularly to a class called "Water Exercise". Its "students" were all at least 30 years older than me and two of them literally wheeled their little walker carts right up to the pool's edge. It was great fun! I worked hard at it and towards the end, had to stop doing many of the exercises focused on my abs but would just float around and tread water. The people in the class were great fun and always asking me about the baby. I even attended the class on Monday, Dec. 8th and went into labor later that night!

All in all, I really enjoyed this pregnancy. It didn't have as much fanfare (first had 4 baby showers) but in many ways, it was more exciting. Luna enjoyed learning about the baby along with me. She was my birth partner, of sorts. She was so disappointed if she ever missed a visit to the midwife. Hopefully, she learned a lot about herself and about the power of women through this process that will stay with her. She is amazing. I hope she will always remember that.

Towards the end of the pregnancy, I started to get sad that I would not be pregnant anymore. I can't explain it, but I LOVE being pregnant. I really do. Although it is not official, I am pretty sure we won't have more children. I really got sad sometimes thinking that it would be my last time feeling a little person growing inside of me-- it is an inexplicably powerful and life-affirming feeling. Although I went 2 days over my alleged due date, I never got that anxious "I-want-this-baby-out" feeling. I really enjoyed those last few weeks especially. I felt so healthy and energetic. I can honestly say that I felt like the Most Beautiful Woman in the World the day I went into labor.

(Stay tuned for the Labor and Delivery Story, Bridgie... soon to come, I promise)

Fun with the Webcam

2009-02-02T20:34:00.004-05:00

totally out of order...

Had just arrived home from the hospital-- 9ish at night... called Grandma and Grandpa on SKYPE and took some snapshots.

Sweet sunny day with babe in his spot (Moby Wrap)
More "belly2belly" action

I'm just learning and Luna is obsessed. These videos were taken a few days before Tommy arrived.

Dark Chocolate with Ginger Bits

2009-01-27T15:22:00.002-05:00

screaming baby... broken can opener (wtf? it is brand new. this is our 4th can opener in as many months. is it a conspiracy? is it a user error?) momentary freak out

called hubby at work. should not have. he probably thinks i am going to jump off the roof. a little slice of my day

Dark Chocolate makes it all melt away... mmmmm...

(written with one hand while holding 12 pounds of sweet sweet sleeping love)

Those First Smiles

2009-01-23T10:29:00.002-05:00

Makes it all worth it... He woke up with HUGE smiles this morning, despite the ultra-soggy diaper the poor kid was sitting in. These moments make me forget all the frustration of the middle of the night.

All's Quiet

2009-01-23T10:13:00.003-05:00

Whew! It is Friday. Been a long week. Little T has been stuffed up so sleep is hard to come by-- for both of us. I tried putting him in his carseat in the night so he was more upright. Poor little guy kicked off all of his blankets and woke up with cold little icicle hands.

L has been dragging her feet (literally) in the mornings for the first time. She'll even stop right outside her classroom and refuse to budge. Her teacher, whom she adores, has to come out in the hallway and cajole her into the room.

So... today she is playing hooky. All of her Public School Friends have the day off, presumably for Record Day (trying explaining that concept to a 4-year-old Montessorian). She was invited to a little party at Bounceland. I've never been there but I think it is just like it sounds--- Hell on Earth or at least Purgatory.

Our dear friends just picked her up and took her to it. We'll meet up with everyone after for pb&j lunch and possible snow play. It is downright balmy today at 33 degrees.

I am actually showered and dressed and so is Tommy. He is asleep and it is 10 am and I feel like today is going to be a good day. I have had some rough ones this week and last. Just so sensitive and exhausted.

I was supposed to have two of my closest friends over Wednesday night at 8:30. I texted them at 8:15 and cancelled. I felt like if either of them walked in and asked me how I was doing, I would have melted right into the carpet never to be heard from again. So, I cancelled. They were so understanding and are now checking on me lots. I am glad for that. I never gave a second thought to the Baby Blues with first kid but now find myself "on the verge" often.

I am OK. I just need to be careful. The winter weather is a good excuse and I could easily isolate myself completely right now. But I went for a walk in the snow with another mom friend and babe the other day. I will meet up with friends and kids later after Bounceland. I find that I just get down on myself so much lately. I didn't do this, didn't finish that.

My folks were over yesterday and even my MOM said, "no one expects that with a new baby. Give yourself a break." She always thinks everyone should have a clean house and a healthy meal on the table. They were great. Grandpa got down and played with L lots and Grandma snuggled baby (to give my aching back a break) and cooked a beautiful dinner AND folded and put away a bunch of laundry. I am very lucky.

Oh yeah! My biggest accomplishment yesterday--- I have been meaning to mail some Christmas and New Baby gifts since BEFORE my kid showed up in early December. Yesterday I made it to the Post Office (with the help of G&G) and off they went along with several other things ---- like a belated birthday present for one of my 3 loyal readers :-)

Today is a fresh day and I am feeling ready for it!

Postpartum Bubbles and Bulges

2009-01-19T12:08:00.003-05:00

Getting VERY tired of wearing black speckled with spit up. Still wearing quite a few stretched out items of maternity wear--yuck.

I don't remember a single day during my pregnancy of feeling anything less than gorgeous. I really dig the growing belly and the full round hips and breasts.

Today, however, I am feeling rather bedraggled and homely. I support the notion that "it takes 9 months to put it on, give yourself 9 months to take it off". I am not really so hard on myself about weight or anything. It is just so hard to find anything to cover up in, be warm in, easily nurse in AND look moderately cute in. My main problem are these big boobs. I was a 32G during my pregnancy and things have grown! I can't find anything in this town that is comfy and covers and supports. I am skittish about ordering anything online for $75 + shipping. I have not had much success with bra and swimsuits online.

Anyway, my ill-fitting bras make everything bumpy and eliminate most of my comfy stretchy shirts. I need to do a serious closet-cleaning but shouldn't probably do it when I feel like this. Who am I kidding? I can't even manage to WASH the clothes we have, much less clean closets!

The boy is fabulous! He really is. I wouldn't trade any of it for a minute but I would like to feel cute for a few minutes. (I did buy some new shirts last week but it has been 3 degrees! I wear my black fleece with spit up on it every day!)

Day Three of My New Life

2009-01-07T09:43:00.005-05:00

Today is Wednesday. L went back to school on Monday and Papa returned to work.

The Boy is sleeping quietly in his carseat thingy. We just returned from dropping L off at school. This was the first morning I had to do all that by myself and she actually made it there on time! I think it was because I had this relaxed mindset that if she is late, it is just preschool.

So, the Boy slumbers away. I should wake him up. I am actively trying to get him to sleep a bit more at night and that means waking him up during the day if he is snoozing too long. Yesterday was a "good day". Monday had been pretty rough. He was gulping a lot of air and after a long talk with the lactation consultant at the hospital, I implemented all sorts of new things. Basically, he had a shitty latch and I had let him do it for a month. So he had these horrible tummy aches and would throw up entire feedings sometimes. I had crazy sore nipples and was just putting up with it. So Monday, he and I fought a lot. He was pissed b/c I kept taking him off until he would get it right-- a really tough learning curve and many tears were shed--- mine and his.

Yesterday was better. He seems to eat less- probably just more efficient at it. My let-down is not so crazy and gushing. My milk production is straightening itself out.

He actually slept a lot last night. We all went to bed at 11pm (I always have these grand intentions of going to bed at 9 but from 9-11 seems to be a rough time for him--- very hungry and fussy). Anyway, in bed at 11pm, up at 2am... I nursed in bed and fell asleep-- probably not a great feeding. Again at 4am and then at 7:20am. Not too bad, for us...

This morning was fine actually. The Man had an early meeting so I actually got up and going. L started out cranky but quickly shifted to her usual pleasant, dancing self. She and I even had some play time as the Boy fell back asleep after he got his diaper changed.

I don't want to jinx myself but I am pretty damn proud of ourselves for this morning. No fights-- no blowups-- is this possible every day?

The biggest complaint/question I had was about taking this little baby out in the cold. I hate carrying him around in that damn car carrier--- more of a wrap mama myself. But it is so damn cold out and it seems better to keep him bundled up in there.

It seems like many parents at the L's school leave younger siblings in the warm car (running) while they take big kids in. That feels weird/unsafe to me. Am I a total freak? Oh well. I guess I will just keep carrying that heavy-ass thing in and out and when spring comes, I can walk them to school or at least carry the Boy in w/o the carseat contraption.

He's Here!

2008-12-30T18:08:00.004-05:00

Action!

2008-12-09T11:45:00.003-05:00

7pm, 12/08/08-- Lost mucous plug--- realizing it may or may not mean anything, started making sure I was feeling ready. Stayed up too late doing some last minute work things that needed doing.

1:30am, 12/09/08-- Woke up with serious backache and realized I was having contractions. L joined us in bed and I was able to fall back asleep.

3:30am, 12/09/08-- Contractions woke me up again. Got up to do some stretching and reading. You know, "when do I go to the hospital?" After flipping through The Birth Partner and finding a stopwatch (didn't know my cell phone had one!), I timed things and realized I was still pretty far off. I was very glad to realize this as we were in the middle of a bad ice storm (lots of school closings today) and I didn't want to have to drive in the night on ice or have to call a friend to come over to stay with L in this weather. Wandered around the house a bit and went back to bed by 4:30.

7am-- Woke up to stronger contractions that required a bit more concentration. Still spaced out and pretty short but hadn't told L yet and didn't want her to wonder what was up. Did the normal morning thing and had my tea and toast and all that. Was getting anxious for S to take L to school. I really wanted to be alone and able to focus. Also feeling like this was the last time I would see her for a while or at least as an only child. Getting very emotional about the changes she is about to experience. Just love her so damn much.

9am-- They were gone. Got back online to send off a few more emails. Did that whole "I am away from work" auto-reply thing. Felt very liberating.

Now (noon)-- Just been nesting hardcore. I am in the middle of a million little projects. Our suitcase is packed as is L's for her "slumber party". Not wanting to answer the phone or talk to anyone. Haven't even called the two friends who will be helping-- one with labor and one with L. Should do that to let them know things are happening but I am so protective of this time and wanting to just be alone.

No Baby Yet

2008-12-05T11:51:00.002-05:00

The baby seems content inside me and I feel the same way. I have had a couple of fabulously enjoyable days lately. Given myself the gift of not being productive. Have a million things "to do" before this baby shows up-- mostly having to do with cooking and freezing food and cleaning and moving furniture.

Instead, I have had tea with friends, taken long baths, gone shopping for snow boots, gone out for 3 hour breakfasts. Yesterday, 3 of my best gals came over and did a belly cast! It is gorgeous and was SUCH a cool experience. It felt like a very necessary stepping stone to hang out with these other mamas, all raising 2 children and ask them questions and to hear their stories... all while I sat naked on a chair and they laid cool strips of wet plaster across my nipples!

Food for Baby Thoughts

2008-12-02T21:20:00.003-05:00

Cravings:

Dry Cheerios. That was my go-to food during those early weeks of nausea (definitely won't call it morning sickness as this is a serious misnomer). I have eaten hundreds of bowls of Cheerios during this pregnancy (no other brand can cut it-- not the crazy expensive organic "oat cereal" and not the Spartan brand).
I have eaten 2-3 Arby's Roast Beef sandwiches (with original Arby sauce of course) during this pregnancy... this is more fast food than I have eaten since 2000 combined.
I had a few weeks a month or so ago when I craved HARDCORE really horrible fatty food-- specifically Double-stuf Oreos and Ruffles potato chips generously dipped in Hidden Valley Ranch chip dip... it passed (mostly, although my weakness for Oreos is an on-going lifetime battle)... I decided that some serious brain development was happening that week and the baby needed all the fat it could get.
Corned Beef. Yep! I cooked one on Sunday with cabbage and carrots and the works and it was so salty and gross and divine.
I have just been SOOO hungry. On numerous occasions, I have gotten up in the night for a bowl of cereal and then gone back to bed. Even if I am not that hungry, I generally eat a bowl of cereal before bed just so I can avoid this midnight snacking. It's cold in our house at night!

Other than that, I think I have been eating healthier and taking better care of my body. I think this is due to the fact that we really try to model good eating in front of L. I would say that since she started eating with us, we all eat better. Even with all of the above infractions, Stephen and I eat better than we normally would on our own. We really only reserve our horrible habits for after she goes to bed. If she only knew what we did after 7pm!

Body Electric

2008-11-29T07:10:00.004-05:00

Finally feeling like I can let this kid show up. I kept telling the Baby that it had to wait until after Luna's birthday. For all intents and purposes, her birthday celebrationSSSS were done at 1pm on Thursday (Thanksgiving) and since then , all I have wanted to do is clean closets and lie on the couch.

I have cleaned a few closets and managed a few minutes here and there on the couches. Luna and I had some good snuggle time while watching PBSKids after I broke the news that I was too tired to take her swimming. (Why do I even mention these things early in the day?) I am very tired. Not sure if I am more tired than usual or just allowing myself some space to rest.

Body update: Belly seems huge but nothing else is too exciting. I feel good, I really do. My hips ache any time I sit or lay or stand in one position for more than 5 minutes. No, seriously, I do miss sleep. Stephen and I stayed up late watching a movie last night (12:30 or so) and I was still hoping for a solid 7. Nope. I was awake (for the day, apparently) at 4am. I came downstairs, thinking that the back of the couch supporting my back would be good for the hips. It was very comfortable but sleep never came again. I decided to get up and be "productive" at 6:20am.

So far, productive has been to make a few lists, start the dishwasher, fill out some paperwork for the Historic District (we really need a handrail out front if I am going to keep this toddler and this new babe safe), ate some quiche, and am now blogging!

I did feel some strange heaviness when I was "trying to sleep" but it felt more like I ate magic mushrooms than anything related to labor.

Fall Days

2008-11-11T15:21:00.003-05:00

Sweet candy... sweet dreams

2008-11-01T08:41:00.003-04:00

She started off as a princess but then decided she didn't like her princess hat (which did not stay on her head). She wore simple ribbons to the school party on Thursday. Friday when it was time to get out there on the streets, I suggested her pink tennis shoes to go with her costume (she had taken a spill in her "princess shoes" the night before). She opted for the pink cowgirl boots instead and the tiara-embellished cowgirl hat... she became a "princess cowgirl". My never ending love for Dolly Parton continues! She has a sparkly cowgirl Polly Pocket doll that I call "Dolly Polly.

She really did have a good time (even though the pictures seem sober)... she was pretty overwhelmed by this idea of going door-to-door and getting CANDY! Not to worry! Mom and Dad tested a goodly amount of the candy! All safe! She has gotten to stay out past dark a few nights these weeks (a huge treat for the one who is in bed by 7:30 most nights... "I can see the stars!") but our little sleepyhead actually requested that we go home... we were sitting on the porch of some friends while the girls tormented their dog in the front yard and all of sudden, she said, "Mama, can we go home? Can Papa carry me so I can go to sleep?" That's my girl!

Princess Tirade

2008-10-22T14:30:00.005-04:00

for halloween, luna is going to be a.... guess... a pink princess! of course! we were on a rare trip to the store (i generally avoid talking her for this reason) and found a pretty damn cute princess costume that is not all disney-ish and shitty... long-sleeved even!

i try to indulge her when i can so i don't get coerced into the barbie/disney shit... she sees so little of that in her life (t-shirts on kids at school and a few friends' houses) but she is obsessed! i am trying to find a balance so she doesn't totally rebel... ha!

trying to keep the grandparents in check is the hardest thing about it all! they see one pink sparkly thing and they think all bets are off... a slippery slope i tell you!

i can easily see the value in the pretend/play aspect of the fairy/princess crap, i just loathe all the disney marketing and skinny-waisted fakeness of it... if i can keep her on fairies in books and stuff from bookbug, we are doing OK...luna is (and has been for a while) really into dressing and undressing dolls... like every day, twice a day... she does this with the doll of the week... i really think that is her thing with barbie's... she loves dressing and undressing them.. my friend has pointed me toward "groovy girls" so i think that is where we are headed with all this... soft, cool, dolls with normal bodies and cute stuff instead of whore clothing...

Blogworthy Boy

2008-10-06T11:31:00.003-04:00

I worked all day Saturday-- like 7am to midnight kind of day. I took 35 teenagers to Cleveland on a charter bus to see this super-cool museum exhibit called Race: Are We So Different? We are preparing for it to come here to Kalamazoo in 2010. At any rate, I was exhausted on Sunday-- achy and missing my little girl. It was a gorgeous Sunday here and so I was trying to get her to go outside with me and work in the yard. She was having none of it so the Mister (who I thought just wanted some alone time) suggested we go to the park near our house.

We ended up running into some friends there so we stayed longer than planned. I expected to come back to a napping Papa. Instead, we came home to a wonderfully clean-smelling house! He had been bitten by some kind of bug and had mopped and scoured the kitchen and downstairs bathroom! He had scrubbed out garbage cans and used all sorts of yummy smelling natural cleaning products!

I have to say that he is generally quite helpful but it is usually my idea. I bug him a bit and give him a few days notice and then we have a big (or little) cleaning bee--complete with Dolly Parton music blaring.

This time, though, he scrubbed and scoured all on his own and that, my friends, is what made it such an amazing gift to this exhausted pregnant Mama. Thank you, loverbutt!

Starting off at Montessori

2008-09-24T22:32:00.003-04:00

So, we did this in stages. This is L on her "first day" at school. Really, it was a 1-on-1 meeting with her teacher for an hour. I didn't find out until afterward that L thought of it as her "first day".

Her are pics of us on her "second day" but really her first with other kids. This day she had "New Student Orientation" with all the other newbies. This is the fancy dress I bought for her "first day" but wasn't planning on that for another week. Little did I know that a day at school with the teacher and other kids feels like "school" to a 3-year-old. Duh!

OK, this is her first "official" day of school at Montessori. She stayed for lunch that day because of her new super-cool lunch box Grandma got for her. We called it the first day with "big kids". To complicate matters further, she does not consider herself a "new kid" because she went there a few days two summers ago when Stephen was the daycare guy. She is getting the hang of things, though.

This just in!

2008-09-23T21:54:00.002-04:00

So, I generally try hard to keep work/life separate-- challenging because some of my best friends are also co-workers. We do digress occasionally but most of the time can have a good time WITHOUT talking shop at all.

Anyway, since most of the people in my non-work life has virtually no idea what i do for a living, I thought I would share this. It is a video about our program hot off the presses. I love it and am so excited to have this tool to share with folks. I like to think our program is pretty unique and I am not always so good about tooting my own horn. Now I don't have to. I can just hand over a DVD. Here it is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxSr0dquSpg

Our Very Own Red Tent

2008-09-21T21:34:00.002-04:00

My birthday was last week. for my "girls' night out" portion of the multi-week celebration, I wanted to host a Red Tent Event. Really, I had finally gotten my hands on the library's copy of "The Business of Being Born" and wanted to host a viewing of it. I have a few friends who are pregnant (well, one just had her babe yesterday) and obviously, I was interested in seeing the film again with a different (read: pregnant) perspective.

So... I invited a bunch of women over for a Sunday night viewing. Stephen made heaps of fresh popcorn (he makes FABULOUS popcorn), put the kiddo to bed and made himself scarce.

Strangely enough, the women who showed up were not all from my normal little circle nor were they women who knew each other (rare for little ole Kalamazoo). There were several women from the neighborhood and some of my normal posse-- all of them VERY cool women with very different childbirth stories.

We watched the film, ate tons of popcorn, drank some red wine and then had an amazing conversation following the film. We all stayed up WAY too late considering it was a Sunday and most of us (but not all) had kids to get to school the next day. We shared our various stories, ranging from many medical interventions to smooth home births, from one pregnancy that ended in miscarriage to those who swore they would NEVER go through childbirth again.

I shared my perspective of near orgasmic euphoria during and after the birth. I loved it, I really did. I feel like I loved every second of it. Every once in a while, I check in with Stephen or with my dear friend Gina who was there with us. They assure me that I did love it. I did not block out any traumatic moments in which I screamed for drugs or cussed out Stephen . They assure me that it was hard but I just kept working and they corroborate my own stories of really digging on being pregnant and giving birth. I feel really lucky.

I attribute a lot of that experience to Ina May Gaskin. I am sure I am not the only one in the world as that woman has helped 1000's of women find their power. My connection feels unique to me in that I had never heard of Ina May. When I found out I was pregnant, I went immediately to my source for information--- the public library. I looked up birth and went to the general section. I had been warned by someone to stay away from those "What to Expect" books as they were supposedly filled with terrifying "what if's". So, I just started looking through the second floor stacks. I saw an older version of Ina May's Spiritual Midwifery and loved the beautiful cover. I grabbed that one and plopped right down in the aisle and started reading. Although I chuckled at first at the photos of all the HAIR, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the amazing, powerful birth stories. I decided right then and there that was the kind of birth I wanted and I spent the rest of my pregnancy reading the stuff that helped me get there and staying away from the more mainstream stuff that I felt might get in my way. That first day, I learned about "horse lips" and the Sphincter Law. I truly believe that Ina May's crazy ideas about making out during labor and "loving the baby out of you" are where it's at.

On a side note, I went home and gushed to Stephen about my new discovery. I showed him some photos in the book. He said, "I think I went there when I was a kid. Yeah, I did. We went to the Farm. I remember lots of kids and we all just ran around together free." There is a great photo in that book of a little naked long-haired blonde kid running away and it could very well be my little Stephen-- naked and free.

Family Holiday... Finally!

2008-09-13T22:16:00.005-04:00

I received one of those kinda spammy emails on the Wednesday before Labor Day (from a rental website I have used before). I called and booked the sight unseen cabin on Thursday and we hopped in the car by 5:30pm on Friday after Stephen got home from work. I packed to much food, forgot the kid's life preserver and Stephen's sandals, but other than that, we were OFF!

We stayed at a lovely little spot just south of Traverse City on small to medium lake called Spider Lake. It was so perfect! The cabin was clean and rustic. It really met all of our needs. I wanted something quiet and off the beaten path. Stephen wanted something that would keep us dry and safe in the event of a thunderstorm. L wanted somewhere she could play, play, play.

The lake was sandy and warm (warm enough for me to get in and hang out!). The beach had shade AND sun, a porch swing, a treehouse, tons of sand toys and even a couple of swingsets!

We will definitely be going back to this little haven. We had not gotten away at all this summer and we all really seemed to need it. I know I was beating myself up for not doing "enough relaxing" this summer (how backwards is that?). Getting away and floating hand in hand with my little one on pink floaties is EXACTLY what I needed to face this fall's busy season head-on.

My Man-- Mr. Vine

2008-09-13T22:11:00.004-04:00

I really love this photograph of my lovely partner. Looking so cool and relaxed on our little family holiday up north. He really wasn't posing-- just watching the kid on the swingset at the public beach in Empire, Michigan.

By the way, he designed that t-shirt. Yes, we drink a LOT of Vernor's around here.

First Day Jitters

2008-09-02T16:11:00.002-04:00

"You OK, honey?" I ask as I glance back at her on the way to school this morning.

"Yes. This is just what my face looks like when I am kind of scared to meet all the other kids."

A pep talk followed and she went off to her new classroom with her brave little self. Do you think it is possible for a person's heart to explode with love for another person?

Cute boy?

2008-08-19T17:57:00.003-04:00

We met some folks at the park last week. It has been a very loose group of folks from L's old preschool who meet there every Tuesday morning. The weeks when I remember, it has been really nice to see folks and for L to play with some of old buddies.

This past Tuesday, we were watching some friends, a girl L's age and her older brother, who is six. He was VERY happy when one of his older buddies showed up with his dad and 3-year-old sister. The three girls commenced playing together as did the two older boys. The girls occupied themselves over under the pavilion doing dances on the "stage" (picnic table). The boys were busy with some game in a different part of the park.

The two sets of siblings seemed to be completely ignoring one another and only my little one seemed interested in bridging the gap. The older boys were leaving them completely alone (something I always liked as the youngest child with 3 older brothers) but L kept creeping over to the boys and then it took very little to get them trying to take her toy or flower or telling her to buzz off. I only intervened once (when it looked like some spiting might be happening--- gross!). Of course, the little sisters always came running to save their buddy from their evil older brothers.

At one point, I looked at L and thought to myself, "That looks a lot like flirting to me." I immediately put that idea out of my head as I can't stand it when people put all that boyfriend/girlfriend shit on toddlers who are just having fun together.

Later that day, I asked her how her day had been. She replied, "Good because Wyatt made it good." I quickly picked my jaw up off the floor and said something mumbly like, "He is a nice friend." She then started spilling the beans. She told me that she liked going to the park that day because of Wyatt and then she said, "He's really cute."

WTF?

I am thinking to myself, "I am not ready for this!" I asked, "Is he cute like a baby or cute like a big kid?" She replied that he is cute like a big kid and she likes him because he makes her smile and he smiles at her.

She brought him up several more times that day INCLUDING when Papa got home from work! When he asked about her day she talked about Wyatt and kept bringing him up whenever she could.

It seems to have passed but I guess she was flirting after all. Looking back, I think I have seen her flirt with as many girls as boys and usually I lump it all together with that older-kid-worship thing we have all seen.

I promise not to let my jaw completely drop to the floor again the next time she talks about someone being "cute" but I am SOOO not ready for boy-craziness. I am hoping for another decade before I have to tame that Wild Thing.

The Trashiest/Purtiest Gal in Show Business

2008-08-14T22:24:00.005-04:00

I saw Dolly Parton last night and don't know how I will ever recover.

She was amazing! She is one of the best performers I have ever seen (possibly tied with Del McCoury, another "senior citizen" and Tennessean)! Her stage presence is unmatched by anyone-- from her sequins all the way down to her gorgeous gams. She came out for the first set in a sexy little blue sparkly number. She then went on to play a different instrument for every song-- from the banjo to the piano, from the tin whistle to the dulcimer (the dulcimer!). Her second set was all Dolly all over the place! She played the favorites like "9 to 5" and "Islands in a Stream". My favorite was "Do I Ever Cross Your Mind?" You see, this was Part Three of our wedding anniversary celebration (Part 1: Dinner + Batman, Part 2: Long Walk + Dessert, Part 3: Dolly Parton, oh my!) That song is on love tape Stephen made for me years ago and it felt so good to sing along so loud with my boy and to watch her enjoy herself so much. She sang that song a cappella with the male members of her band and told stories of singing "back home" with all her brothers.

I was certainly excited to see her show but had NO IDEA what we were in for. She played for 2.5 hours (with one break for a fabulous wardrobe change). She must be over 60 years old and she ROCKED the house! She told wonderful stories in between each song, including some of my favorites: "My mama always had one in her or one on her." "I looked at that purty lady in town and said, 'Mama, when I grow up I want to be trash just like her.'"-- with allusions to my favorite: "It costs a lot of money to look this cheap." Not only can she sing like an angel, play a zillion instruments but she writes AMAZING songs!

On a more serious note, it made me think twice about how hard I resist L's love for all things sparkly and trashy. She is three and I need to lighten up a bit. If Dolly Parton is my idol and inspiration (check out inspiring new single with Amy Sedaris, my other idol, in the video), then I can trust that my little girl will be alright if she paints her fingernails red once in a while.

Finally, the show made me all mushy for my boy. Aside from the two 6-foot drag queens in the front row (who might have been prettier than Dolly herself), I don't know if there was another man there who enjoyed himself more than Stephen. He was the first to stand up in our section for the rowdy parts and knew all the words to most of the songs. I can count on a new Dolly CD most years from him and equally important, he is just as likely as me to put it in the CD player. I love my little Dolly Man and can't wait to until the day we pack the kids and the mini-van and head to Dollywood for a little slice of Appalachian Heaven.

PS-- I have decided that I still might be able to give in to a Barbie doll for L but would happily purchase a "Dolly Doll" for her. Let me know if you ever come across such an amazing creation.

Latenight Ramble

2008-08-13T00:27:00.002-04:00

I am exhausted and it is late and I am finally done with all the things I "needed" to do tonight and yet here I am. I am thinking lots about my day tomorrow and it feels really big. I am making lists of things to take on our 1 night trip across the state. L is staying with G&G and the Man and I are going to see Dolly Parton perform with two of our bestest friends. We plan to eat yummy Lebanese food and remember our binoculars (as we have lawn seats). We'll be back to snuggle with L and wake up at G&G's house to a garden bursting with freshness and the entire day without the Man going to the Office. That is all very exciting. But something else is weighing on me and I am just starting to realize why I am finding all sorts of things to do and lists to make and not going to bed.

Tomorrow, I will see my mom (one of the G's) and she had a mastectomy last week and I don't know what on earth to do with that. I suppose I don't do anything but I have been shoving it out of my head and heart and only now am realizing that I am pretty freaked out about it all. She seems OK and relieved that is has been "taken care of" . She found out today that she will not require anything further like chemo or radiation. She is VERY relieved.

So... I am not sure what this rambling is all about or even what it should be called. I guess I need to acknowledge to myself and cyberspace (and my two devoted readers) that I am really freaked out and completely unsure of what to do or say or feel or think or ask.

I will try my best to remember to do more asking than telling, more listening than talking and to be gentle. I will give her a manicure and deliver her favorite bread (and hopefully her favorite coffee cake if Mackenzie's has a date/walnut one). I will arrive bearing the most important gift of all. A beautiful, smiling 3-year-old full of stories (she keeps trying to fake me out by telling me there is a frog or a toad in the house and I have fallen for it a few times) and questions (why?) and boundless toddler love.

Yes, we REALLY just want a healthy baby...

2008-08-07T20:18:00.003-04:00

I am 21 weeks along. We went to see the midwife today and got to hear the heartbeat again. L does a FABULOUS impression of the sound. This kid is hopping all over the place. Just in the past few days, I can be sitting there and see all this crazy movement all over my belly--- like someone is doing some serious cardio in there.

It is pretty exciting. L and I agree that this feels like a boy to us. I have caught myself several times using the male pronouns. I need to watch myself, though. I really don't have a preference. People seem genuinely shocked (or mistrustful) when I say that. I don't think Papa cares either. So many of our friends and family have struggled through pregnancies and losses and challenging childbirth. We REALLY just want a healthy baby and so far, so good.

The Big Lake

2008-08-02T20:40:00.003-04:00

Last weekend, we finally made it over to the Big Lake (Lake Michigan). We live one hour from South Haven so we were able to set out on a whim without much planning.

We headed up to one of our favorite "secret spots" just north of the town of Glenn. (OK, I'll tell you, loyal reader. It is an Allegan county park called "West Side"or "Westport" or something. It has toilets and a playground but isn't ever TOO busy for us.)

The beaches near South Haven are just too jam-packed (think Miami Beach) for our tastes. Moon had a blast getting buried by Papa. The water was actually bearable (usually way too cold for me). The waves were huge and the rip current was rather exciting. Moon had one of those arse-over-head moments near the shore but thankfully Papa was within an arm's reach and scooped her up. Other than all the sand in her ears, she didn't seem to mind too much. It was the perfect "Family Day"-- it really was. One of those mushy days when I was just so in love with both of them, ya know?

Oh my Gawd! 32G!

2008-07-28T20:57:00.006-04:00

I realize that I am an incredibly sporadic blogger-- when it comes to frequency as well as topic choice.

I have devoted absolutely no space to a pretty big deal in my life these days. NO... not a boob job. I am pregnant-- 21 weeks along to be exact.

I am feeling really good considering last time around I was able to take naps whenever I wanted and received MUCH more pampering from dear husband. Well, this time around life keeps me... more tired. I do feel great, though. Some of the same issues as last time but now I know lots more about my body and how to manage things.

Except for one thing. My boobs are HUGE and I am only halfway along. Let's not even talk about nursing!

One thing that I did for myself once I was pretty much done nursing (down to "two a days") was that my friend (my well-endowed and long-time nursing co-worker) and I played hooky from work one day and went to visit the famous Margaret at Marshall Field's/Macy's/Hudson's. She is an older (75?) German lady who is NOT afraid to feel you up. I had gone through my life in ill-fitting bras and have decided that 90% of women must do the same.

I had been measured a ton of times--- Victoria Secret, Hudson's, bra shops in outlet malls-- you name it. People always said different things so I would go back to what I thought worked--- 36D. Then I had a kid and everything changed so I asked Margaret to remeasure me. Well, one thing I know for sure is that after having a kid, no one goes from a 36 to 32. Physiologically, it just can't happen. Maybe your rib cage can get bigger but not smaller.

Anyway, she spent over 2 hours with both of us and we came away calling that Tuesday, "the day that changed our lives". I found out that I was a 32D and that very few companies even make that size and that even fewer stores carry it.

So, I have spent the last 18 months in really ugly beige bras that FIT! They don't ride up in back. They actually "lift and separate". They cost a lot of money as I can no longer get deals at Kohl's. I am relegated to the "never-on-sale" Wacoal brand at Macy's. Every few months, I drop $60 on ONE bra and wear it to death. Bras have moved from "Sarah's fanciful spending money account" to the "family necessity account" like eye glasses and dental cleanings.

Well, a few months ago, when I first found out I was pregnant (because of my huge chest I woke up with one day that ached like nothing else could), I lucked out at Marshall's (actually afore-mentioned friend called to tip me off) and hit the jackpot! They had a ton of Wacoal's bras on sale for $20-25. I stocked up on four 32DD as the girls were growing each day.

After several painful weeks of ripping off the bra as soon as possible at the end of each day, I finally went shopping for some new bras. I know the leap from 32DD to 32G may not sound that huge to some but it puts me in the "circus freak" category in my mind. This term came to mind a few weeks ago in that Bali/Hanes store in the outlet mall. It is an entire bra store with nothing but ugly grandma bras. I was sure to find what I needed. After trying on several 32DD that didn't even contain my flesh, I stormed out cussing and in near tears with the term "circus freak" imprinted in my mind. That particular day, I was with my mom and suddenly remembered the same horrible scene from my teen years happening over and over again.

I HATED bra and swimsuit shopping for so long and then, thanks to Margaret, had this brief little window of comfort when I could walk into a store and pick out a bra and have it fit and buy it. Thank you Margaret from the Macy's at Crossroads Mall! (I have already done one of those Customer Reply things that says how awesome she is but I might need to do another.)

She was there the other night as I purchased my 32G. She played chase with my 3-year-old in the racks like a little kid and I went home smelling the comforting scent of old-lady perfume on my shirt from Margaret's hugs.

The Big Payback

2008-07-06T13:35:00.003-04:00

Mere minutes ago we were enjoying a relaxing, pre-rest time lunch when L asked Papa a simple enough question (I don't even remember what it was). He paused and said, "Because..." (I think he was fully intending to continue his answer). L jumped in with a snarky, "'Because' is not a reason, Papa."

Ouch! He deserves it, though, and we all laughed our asses off. Of course, I don't think L had any idea why we both found it so hilarious but she loves a good hearty laugh.

This is the first time I have seen her burn him so thoroughly with his own words and I couldn't hold it together. I don't think she even meant to be so snotty. She's right, it isn't a reason.

The "Stephen-ism" that I get often from her that fills me with ire is when I ask, "Will you please do me a favor?" and she replies with, "What is it?"

I live with two of these people now! I have NEVER asked either of them to do anything remotely out of the ordinary-- like clip my toenails for me or scour the garbage can with their toothbrush. It is usually something along the lines of bringing me a screwdriver while I stand on this chair repairing YOUR light bulb or easier still, mopping up the water YOU spilled. Just say, "Yes!" when I ask for help.

Finally, he was on the receiving end of it... Ahhhh....
(I know I am getting an unhealthy amount of pleasure from this-- Oh well.)

Shutterbug

2008-07-05T20:23:00.004-04:00

Last post of the day, I promise.

L took some photos today and I wanted to include them for your viewing enjoyment. They are:

1) Photo of Mama and Papa that she took in early morning mist after we each posed with her.

2) Photo of tent drying in the sun near Steven's house.

3) Photo of the "pretty trees" near her favorite log.

The Best 4th (and 5th) of July Ever

2008-07-05T19:26:00.009-04:00

Let me begin by saying that this holiday does not carry the kind of expectations that other holidays do for me. I kind of hate fireworks. Sure, they are pretty and all but I generally consider them a colossal waste of money and would rather just get together for a cook-out without the forced need to stay up past dark (10:30pm in these parts) and run the risk of a late night visit to the ER with your drunk Uncle Mickey who was trying to show off.

Since we bought this house in 2003, my loathing for the alleged "holiday" has grown. Our neighbors don't just blow up things for the hour or two on either side of dusk on the 4th itself. The folks in this neighborhood blow up things for weeks preceding the 4th and do it all night long. You'll be lying there asleep after hours of it and some punter will start up again at 3:30am complete with howling and applause for himself. My anger at this behavior was only made worse in recent years by the birth of our child for whom I expect complete and total silence after 7:30pm EVERY night, I don't care how close we are to Indiana and its loosey-goosey fireworks laws!

This year, I suggested a camping trip but the Papa did not bite. Understandably, he did not want to brave a different kind of idiocy---drunk, late night camping idiocy with only a thin nylon sheet separating you from the revelers.

Mid-week, we had this fabulous idea! We decided to invite ourselves to our friend's house in the country for dinner and camp in his back yard! This friend, Steven, and I played phone tag all week and in the end, we headed out to his place on the afternoon of the 4th (after a fun-filled day of bike-riding and swinging--see below). As it turns out, this normally anti-social bachelor had invited all sorts of people and we ended up with a rollicking party on his back deck. Pesto minutes fresh from the garden, sweet peas, brats, chicken on the grill, watermelon and of course, L's first taste of the heaven that is s'mores.

This is a picture of L being helped by my friend Sheila who claims to really hate kids. Whatever, Sheila: I have proof and it is going out all over cyberspace.

The evening of the 4th was a hugely successful good time. We headed to bed just as L seemed to be hitting that comatose stage when I normally anticipate full meltdown. We got bundled up and zipped ourselves in the tent, watched the sunset out of the mesh window, listened to the beginning of the fireworks craziness and fell asleep. I was a little concerned that my little creature of habit would struggle getting to sleep without her Bath Snack Book routine but we just held hands and snuggled and she was out before the real craziness began.

I think I thought folks out in the country didn't do fireworks. WRONG! Our friend Steven lives out there in the POBox-only country (as opposed to developed-subdivison-on-old-farmland country) and folks had PLENTY of illegal fireworks. The great thing was they shot them all off at dusk or close to it so there were done by 11:30 or so. No Vine Neighborhood TET Offensive to which I had grown accustomed. We all slept well all night long (with the exception of Papa's bouts of tent-induced claustrophobia but that is another blog).

We woke to a beautiful sunny, misty morning. L squatted in the field for her morning pee (I get a huge kick out of the fact that she is a pro at squatting to pee in outdoorsy settings). Blue the Dog came to visit us early. We followed her down to the house with the intention of asking Steven to join us at a nearby greasy spoon for breakfast but he was already cooking the bacon! Seriously, free camping in a gorgeous setting and then breakfast served! DEFINITELY the best set-up a lazy car camper could ask for! (The following photos capture the early morning mist.)

L and I started picking black raspberries and packing things up (this mostly consisted of moving all the dew-soaked stuff to sunny spots for drying) while Steven made us all bacon, fried potatoes (in bacon grease) and scrambled eggs with herbs fresh from the garden. L got to help pick the herbs and find frogs and hug Blue the Dog a lot and try to catch Mia the Cat.

All in all, I think the best part of it was watching her little self head up the hill (with just Blue by her side) knowing that the worst that might happen would be a bug bite or a scratch. Raising a kid in the city wears on me sometimes and it was so wonderful to watch her be so free and safe and enjoying every second of all that nature has to offer her.

The Bike

2008-07-05T19:09:00.005-04:00

L's little friend G is so amazingly generous with her. When I told G's mom that we were in the market for a 2-wheeler bike this past spring, G promptly hauled out and dusted off her teeny-tiny Dora bike and pink butterfly helmet.

It only took her mom and I 2 months to get the girls together for the hand-off-- but what a gift-giving event it was! Here are some pics of the girls riding around on their bikes. They rode a few doors down to cruise the track (and swing!) at G's school park.

She is 2 1/2 years older than L and always referred to L as her "little sister". Some months we do a better job than others of getting them together but whenever we do, I am reminded how great they are together. G is such a gentle little soul and so kind to L. She seems especially to get a kick out of handing off her really special toys/gear for L to enjoy. L's all-time favorite dolls still consist of one of the "twins" G gave her years ago. An amazingly sweet testament to their friendship, I think. (Explanation: The "twins" are two identical dolls from Target but one is lily-white like L and the other is light brown like G and I think it is the sweetest thing in the world every time she refers to them as "the twins".)

Story Time

2008-07-03T23:18:00.005-04:00

So... our digital camera has video with audio but the audio is always garbled. Here is the hilarious cuteness translated:

L reading about Poppleton to her twins-- GraceBaby and Baby. Notices me and after a long pause, says, "Don't take my picture right now. I am reading to my babies."

I can hardly take her hilarity sometimes.

The Pinata Syndrome

2008-07-03T22:38:00.006-04:00

It has been a good week. Luna had her last day of B&R preschool last week. We celebrated with a field trip to a local park. This was just the beginning of my long strange trip obsessing about my daughter's social interactions. B&R is such a sweet little hippy-dippy place. The teachers have mostly been there for decades and they work so hard to create a loving safe space for the kids. One of the reasons I was initially attracted to the place is because they actively work to downplay so much of the commercialized gender crap that kids are swimming in these days. I know firsthand that no matter how hard you can consciously (and unconsciously) work to alleviate some of these pressures, you might end up with a princess or a hardcore hulk. However, I love to find little havens safe from the reach of Disney's evil empire. I digress.

Anyway, we went on this little field trip and I realized it was the first time I had really observed L in her everyday social setting. We have some of her school buddies over occasionally but barring a birthday party or something, I rarely see her with more than one other kid. She seemed to have fun but I was so surprised to see that she was more timid that I know her to be. I was already getting panicky that I wasn't going to see her teachers every morning and afternoon and wanted to get as much of the inside scoop on her as possible. So that afternoon, I grabbed some of them while all the kiddos slept.

Many of my initial concerns were allayed. According to them, she is a bit more timid than some kids in physically challenging situations (another surprise) but she definitely stands up for herself. This was good for me to hear. The moment that crushed my heart earlier that day was one in which her "best friend" really said some crappy stuff to her and she just took it. All that, "you're not my friend" crap that really seems rampant right now in her peer group. I was just shocked to see her take it and this kid continue being very exclusive and mean (at 3!). So... the teachers stroked my ego a bit and told me how bright and sensitive and perceptive L is and how I needn't worry. Some concrete ideas they gave me had to do with setting up opportunities of L to cultivate some other friendships (this "best friend" is the daughter of friends so we all hang out a LOT and I don't see the same level of shittiness when it is just the two of them). Anyway, all that to say that here are some cute pics of the whole gang that day at the park.
****

Let the sociological observations begin! So, our first OFFICIAL week of summer together. We did some kid-swapping/helping out with some other families so we were busy and not lacking for social interactions (of the toddler kind--- I could have used a little more adult interaction I think). L started swim lessons this past week and that ran M-Th and will again next week. We went to the library, the park numerous times, endured some crazy huge t-storms, went out to lunch with Papa, baked a blueberry buckle, read a TON of books, had mildly successful "rest times" each day (that means snuggling and quiet reading with no sleeping). I think we are finally falling into a routine and that feels comfortable to me. I still need to be working a bit here and there and have yet to figure that out, but oh well, here's my blog instead!

As for the social stuff, I wear Papa down in the evenings with all my theories/observations. All in all, she is just such a kind kid but I am a little concerned about her being TOO kind, ya know? We have just never concentrated on her asserting herself. I thought it would just happen but watching her with other kids, I realize she gets NO encouragement. I have dubbed it the "pinata syndrome". Poor thing. We have now been to two gatherings in her short life with pinatas. I kinda hate pinatas so I have never instructed her on what happens or how to behave and so when they bust open, she just stands there wide-mouthed watching kids shove each other around for scraps of shit I don't want her to have anyway. I have watched parents (one was at a hippy-dippy co-op party for chrissakes!) tell their kids to just "grab and go!" and "be ready to get as much as you can!"

Our poor little sweetheart has been conditioned (and possibly genetically pre-disposed by her Papa) to be so mellow and kind. She has been told so many times by that one "friend" that she is not her friend anymore that when we had another kid over this week, she was constantly asking her, "are you still my friend?" The second girl just responded with simple explanations like, "Yes, I am your friend. I just don't want to play that right now." I have been trying to explain to L that you can still be friends even if you are upset with someone but she still reverts to this panicky state whenever people (including me) seem cross with her.

Oy vey! I didn't know I was going to have to worry about her social status at 3! I already have enough angst/worry/terror about her foray into middle school. Does it really have to get so catty so soon? I just want a confident, happy kid. Hopefully, a summer of sleeping in (in my dreams!) and goofing off all day with me telling her how amazing she is to me will help L find some of that. Wish us luck (suggestions are welcome too)!

Summer... finally!

2008-06-12T20:32:00.003-04:00

So... of course, I thought my child was a genius when she came up with this jellyfish idea within minutes of busting out the sprinkler. Well, really friggin cute anyway. Enjoy!

It has been HOT, HOT HOT just like Buster Poindexter says so the backyard is being watered a LOT lately-- fill the pool up and splash in the mud 'til the sun goes down!

So Simple

2008-05-01T15:02:00.002-04:00

After a school year of hearing about the topsy-turvy world of 3-year-old friendships, I was all too familiar with Moon's dislike on one young man at her school. Some days, she would complain that he pushed people and she didn't like playing with him. The other night in the bath, she said, "Today Hank and I turned into friends."
"Oh yeah? What happened today that made you become friends?"
"He smiled at me during naptime."

A little project by a non-sewing mama

2008-05-01T14:36:00.005-04:00

FAIRY TUTU--- It seemed like such an easy project that we could do TOGETHER. Well, that was not the case but Luna was in heaven at the fabric store when she was able to pick out her colors and I finished it up during one very short nap. I am still trying to "redirect" this princess obsession (waiting for some man to save you, dead mother, creepy father, kissing at a young age) into a fairy obsession (cool magical powers-- flying ability, cool clothes, wonderful treehouses, sparkly fairy dust).

One of our famous Locust Place Dance Parties:

"Who will play Rolf?"

2008-04-17T09:06:00.003-04:00

In response to a question posed by a loyal reader during an earlier blog, the answer is Stephen. He just got a haircut after many months of shagginess.

At bedtime, Moon held both his cheeks in her hands and her final words of the day were, "Papa, you like just like Rolf."

The gazebo is almost done.

A Spring Picnic

2008-04-16T22:15:00.006-04:00

We finally got a sunny warm-ish Saturday at the beginning of this month. We headed out into the woods for a little picnic and hike. Here are some pics and speeches from our glorious sun-filled day.

We headed out to my "office" for the day. It really is my office but there are no pics of the actual building posted here. I did include a picture of the kiddo in a yurt. This is a pretty accurate take on a traditional Mongolian home. We replaced a few of our old army tents a few years back with these and Moon loved playing "house" in them.

I whine about the "commute" but every once in a while, I have a day like this that makes reminds me to be thankful for the gorgeous surroundings in which I work. Acres and acres of woods, a very Pretty Lake and all sorts of adventurous creatures like blue heron, deer, muskrats, toads, salamanders... heaven, really!

On the Mend

2008-04-10T21:00:00.005-04:00

We are definitely on the up swing of a very long week with a very sick little girl. It started last Saturday with a cough. It was such a gorgeous day, though, and Moon and I got out in the woods for a wonderful hike and picnic.

The middle of that night was filled with hot sweaty little fists, terrifying (to parents) coughs and sleeplessness for all. After a few more feverish nights and very little sleep, we called the pediatrician's office on Monday. The nurse said she thought it sounded like "whatever is going 'round" and that they are seeing it take 72 hours to swing upward. The nurse said if she still seemed like a "limp dishrag" the next day, she would suspect pneumonia and we should bring her in.

Well, after another rough night of bed-hopping for all of us, I awoke hopeful. I stayed home with her Tuesday. At 10:00am, Sesame Street announced that their "word on the street" was "BALLET" and by 10:05am, I officially declared her a limp dishrag.

This kid has been obsessed with all things ballet and her little body did not even crack a smile... not even a little glimmer or twinkle in her eye.

In we went to the cootie-filled pediatrician's office. I do love the people there and always get such good treatment-- validated for our parenting choices and all that. However, the toys in the corner that all the sick kids play with (including my own!) do make my skin crawl.

The little monkey had x-rays and the whole nine yards. "A little pneumonia right there on her right lung", they said.

Such a big word for a little body. She started on the heavy drugs that day and really seems to be doing well. We have kept her out of school the remainder of the week. Between Grandma (my mom), Pops (Stephen's dad) and our uber-flexible jobs, it has worked out just fine. It does make me feel lucky that Stephen and I both have these positions where no one's job is on the line if we have to stay home with a sick little one. I am keenly aware that not everyone in our filthy rich democracy is so fortunate.

Today she really fought taking her antibiotics so I think that is a sign that her fire is back. She (and consequently WE) slept STRAIGHT through from midnight to 6:30am this morning. Whew! We needed it! It is finally starting to catch up with me so I am off to bed quite early tonight.

Why I do what I do

2008-03-28T09:46:00.009-04:00

I am exhausted. Exhausted in that wonderful way: the stay-up-too-late-giggling kind of way, the I-have-not exercised-in-forever-but-all-that-hiking-feels-great kind of way, the I-am-so-tired-from-crying-and-it-fells-good kind of way. Last week, I took a whole of kids into the woods for a week of magic. I do these multi-day programs a few times a year but this one was really amazing and powerful for me. I had a stellar staff-- some folks who have been with me for years and some wonderful new additions.

In the end, the kids got it. They got why all the "playing" and teasing they do hurts folks. They got why it is important to think twice before judging others. They got that they have the power to change things-- that they are NOT helpless and they can steer the train. It was an amazing group of kids-- each with his or her own set of issues. By no means did we have a group of perfect kids. We had kids with drama and tough lives. Now we have kids with hope and skills and the courage to speak their mind.

So... after 6 days away from my family eating too many double-stuff oreos and staying up every night until 3am and coming home more sick than I left and having a suitcase of clothes STILL sitting on the bedroom floor and working my ASS off and asking myself OFTEN why I keep doing this, here is why I do what i do:

Corny, I know. But I am honestly making the world better for her the best way I know how. Oh yeah, and I am really f-in good at what I do :-)

Unconditional Parenting

2008-03-12T09:17:00.010-04:00

I feel like our family is at a real crossroads and doing a pretty good job of navigating it. Stephen did his Montessori teaching certification last year. He has chosen not to teach but I really feel like it has made us such better parents than we would have otherwise been. I think we both naturally want to be very compassionate with Moon and diffuse power struggles but I might have easily succumbed to the "SuperNanny" method of child-rearing. Lots of discipline and "respect" (a very different version of respect than I fancy) but very little compassion. As it is, we have the Montessori philosophy to back us up which has quietly been changing the world for 100 years. I always thought of it as a method of teaching but it is really more of a method of interacting with kids and trusting kids to make the right choices. I am sure I am not articulating myself at all right now. I just get so excited about all this.

A year or so ago, I stumbled upon this guy Alfie Kohn. A few educator friends mentioned him in the same week so I felt compelled to check him out. Moon wasn't even really testing us much at the time and I remember thinking it didn't apply to me yet. I kept reading stuff aloud to Stephen from his book called Unconditional Parenting and Stephen would say, "Yeah, Maria Montessori said that." I found it really exciting in relationship to the work that I do. I have really embraced Appreciative Inquiry in the program I run for high school students and it fits together very nicely.

One of Kohn's philosophies has to do with all those rewards systems people love. At the time, we were just starting toileting and people kept telling us to do the M&M thing or stickers. I remember feeling like that was really weird--that I shouldn't have to bribe her with junk for performing bodily functions she would do when her body was ready. So I didn't do it and it took a really long time but now she uses the toilet as needed. It certainly didn't happen "in a day" like some books tell you. I am sure I am sounding critical of those ideas. It just felt really counter-intuitive to me. So we have avoided all that sticker chart shit and she seems to be turning out to be a pretty nice little person.

I totally get sucked in but I can't stand that damn Supernanny. I know those are tough cases of parents who have let things get out of hand and just really need some skills. I just wish she would encourage more empathy and compassion and less military rule. I get caught up on the class issue of it all but my dear friend Rebecca has shared a great resource with me. There is this amazing woman named Ruth Beaglehole working tirelessly in LA on a movement called "non-violent parenting" . Rebecca attends the Center's trainings as an educator but the classes are all done in English and Spanish and there are folks there whose children have been taken away. There are folks who have been court-ordered to attend these classes and it is working ACROSS social and class lines. People are learning new ways of communicating with their children and family members. People are learning new ways of loving each other unconditionally. (By the way, if you watch the video they have on their website, that is my Rebecca at the end talking about her classroom!)

At any rate, I feel like all these other philosophies fit really well with what our hearts tell us to do as parents. When am feeling worn down but what "everyone else" says we should do, I look over some of these readings or talk with Stephen or other parents who are doing things similarly-- and then I feel sane again.

By no means are we raising a brat but we are very consciously raising a kid who is learning to answer her own questions, to have empathy and compassion for others and to make decisions for HERSELF and not for some stickers. Those of you who know my kiddo are encouraged to give feedback because, as we all know, love is blind. :-)

Our Little Gretl... or Marta or Liesl or Brigitta or MARIA

2008-03-10T16:04:00.008-04:00

Moon is obsessed with the Sound of Music-- I mean, OBSESSED! How did this happen, you ask? One day this winter she had the flu and so did I and so did Papa. It seemed like a great way to pass 3 hours on a sickly Sunday afternoon. I had no idea! She had never watched anything longer than a Caillou episode and here she is now, begging to watch her 3-hour movie every day.

One day a few weeks ago, my folks were visiting. My mom and I stepped out to grab a few things and left Moon with Grandpa- a rare occurrence. When we returned, he looked happy but exhausted. Apparently, he had been ordered to perform the entire time we were gone. It took some frustrated 3-year-old bossing-around but finally he figured out that his line was, "Popping out to say..." and she would pop out from behind the 4 foot tower they had built and say, "COO COO!" Poor Grandpa had no idea what this was about but played along nonetheless.

When we returned, I figured out the reference and played the "So Long, Farewell" song off of the Sound of Music soundtrack (I know, it is my own fault for owning BOTH the movie and the soundtrack... I have created a monster... My girlfriends and I did some serious "Sixteen Going on Seventeen" routines when we were, well, sixteen...).

At any rate, her little number with Grandpa has morphed into a complete routine that is performed EVERY night at bedtime (and several other times throughout the day).

Birthday cards to friends are signed, "Love, Luna, Mama, Papa, Liesl, Kurt, Marta and Gretl". She is forever telling anyone who will listen about all of her brothers and sister, named... "Friedrich, Louisa, etc." Sometimes she lets me be Brigitta but usually I have to be Kurt. Sometimes she is the 5-year-old Gretl and sometimes she is Maria singing, "I have confidence in confidence alone! I have confidence (pause, pause) in ME!"

I wanna be a...

2008-01-27T22:49:00.000-05:00

The "in my next life" game with friends. Papa and Moon went on a daddy-daughter date with I-man and A. After a lengthy discussion yielding such answers as "I wanna be... a butterfly... a princess... a butterfly mommy princess (the standard answer these days)

The I-man called out, "In my next life, I want to be happy."

Moon quipped back with, "I want to be one tear rolling down a cheek." Watch out, Bob Dylan.