C.A.L.I. Livin'

Moments

2010-10-04T21:15:00.000-07:00

I want to hold this moment to me, keep it close with my eyes shut tight, letting the pure magic overwhelm me. Never, ever, ever let this feeling go away. Please?

Then it's gone. Gone, just like that, gone, and I am so worried I can't get it back. What if? What if this is the time where the magic ends, curtain goes down, the show's over, and no one is applauding more than I?

Because I don't know.

This whole unknowing sometimes fills me with the what ifs until I can't breathe. But I do. I must. So I tiptoe, ever so softly tiptoe, and inhale the sweet breaths of my children until my peace is restored. And I tuck myself in next to my husband and will my mind to be still, so very still, until I sleep and it is morning once more. In the chaos of the day, I pause, reminding myself of that magic I clung to in the night in an attempt to remind myself to be grateful for all I have. All they are. And all they are is quite simply, amazing. Breathtaking. The why and the how of them is unfathomable and infinitely interesting. I will learn them. I will spend my whole life learning them.

I worry I am not in the moment enough with them. Instead of enjoying the wonder of childhood, I am thinking of the laundry, or the kitchen. Or the shows piling up on the DVR. So many thoughts. They are noise, keeping me from my child's childhood. And I ask myself to stay, please stay in this moment. Sometimes it works. Often it does not. But, those moments, where I am fully present are pure magic and I hold on to it until it has no choice but to end, to move on to some other moment.

When they were young I could hold them and inhale their sweet milky scent and keep the moment alive, but now they wiggle and squirm and want to be anywhere but in my arms, and my job as Mother is to let them. It is so hard, but I let them. Because I must.

They are constantly finding their own way, putting their unique imprint on the world and I'm worried about the fucking laundry.

So I worry and I persist, and I answer questions and request and deliver hugs and make oh so many sandwiches, and I watch and I change outfits and repeat over and over again the days of early childhood. Those moments where I wonder at my children are the magic ones. Those are the ones I take out when I'm finally alone and watch over and over again, keeping them remembered. I won't let them be forgotten. These memories of the children I have will soon be just that, memories, as they grow into the children I will have. I've already raised so many children in four short years.

No one told me you would be simultaneously destroyed and created with each new stage. I am not who I once was. I am irrevocably changed. My children change me over and over, as they themselves change. They have had so many mothers in four short years.

The only constant is I am Mother and they are Child. The only constant is Love.

All the worry, the growing up and the laundry in the world cannot change that.

Sleep is the enemy. Never surrender.

2010-05-13T19:55:00.000-07:00

Today, I am thinking about bed. How much I enjoy my bed. How sometimes during the day, for no good reason, I start craving my bed. My bed is my salvation and my redemption. A good night's sleep is my preventative medicine, it soothes and restores and refreshes my spirits. Sleep is a beautiful, wonderful thing, and I almost sigh with pleasure every night as I slip under my covers.

You hear that, Logan? Beautiful. Wonderful. Makes mommy happy every day. Do you see a pattern, my darling? Logan going to sleep at a decent time and staying in his bed leads to a happier, less yelly, more interactive mama throughout the day.

Guys, I don't think he gets it. No, sleep is for the weak in his mind, it is to be fought, railed against even, and the longer he can put it off, the more successful his evening. Our precious hours of alone time gone to the grind of walking him back to his bed over and over again. Then one more time for good measure.

I miss the days when he would demand to be put to bed. Yes, he would come up to us and declare that it was time for him to be put in his crib. More importantly, he would then fall asleep, often for hours at a time. We knew then this was rare, and certainly wouldn't last, but only on an intellectual level. I don't think we really understood how fleeting this bizarre behavior was, it was just there, like the poop in his diapers every morning. A part of him. Then one day, it was gone. I miss it so.

Izzy never went through that phase, she recognized from the start that sleep is the enemy and one should vigilantly guard against it's appearance.

They are so lucky they're cute.

Now I hear I'm going to miss these days when they get older and we have to drag them out of bed. Oh, please. Bring it on. I've been training for those days my whole parenting life. We have plans for retribution, plans involving recorded baby cries and foghorns in the middle of the night. Oh, our day is coming. And it will be glorious.

**disclaimer** Our children are actually, all in all, excellent sleepers and this complaint should be taken with a grain of salt. I'm aware many parents have it far worse than we do, and if you are one of them? I will share with you my plans for eventual payback.

Also, if the sleep gods are listening, please do not smite me.

Days all the Same

2010-03-12T13:21:00.001-08:00

It is too easy to fall into the rhythms of staying at home, moving from meal to meal, mess to mess, without ever truly being in the moment. Too many times I find myself in the mindset of we have all the time in the world. We are always at home, we will get to that craft, explore those puddles or bake those cookies some other day. A day which in reality comes all too rarely. I have to remind myself that these days are finite. One day they'll be gone, along with your baby, who just asked you for the keys to the car.

It is too easy to not challenge myself in this day to day sameness, each one rising and falling in time to the one before, the one after, the one to come in three weeks, three months, and god forbid, three years.

I am so lucky. So lucky. Really, I realize I am so lucky to be able to make this choice. I don't want to live any other life, not seriously, and yet at the same time I am finding myself with the worst case of the grass is greener. A job would ease some of this restlessness. A job would use my brain. A job would let me talk to honest to god adults who aren't my husband on a regular basis.

Yet a job would introduce more problems, problems that right now seem intimidating. Getting out the door. Juggling housework and meals with a job. Being away from the kids for over forty hours a week. (Oh, my heart). Finding childcare. Paying for childcare. Figuring out how to stay in our preschool co-op which requires us to work one day a week per child. And last but not least, finding a job.

In this economy, that last one might be hardest of all.

I have so many questions, questions to which I have no answers. At least no easy answers. Maybe the solution is to find more challenges, more activities I can do in this period of my life as a stay at home mom. Maybe the solution is to just be grateful for this time. And maybe, just maybe, my time as a stay at home mom is entering twilight and will soon become a cherished memory.

Until then, I desire something that remains frustratingly unnameable.

A Lounging Kind of Day

2010-02-04T20:31:00.000-08:00

Me plus wine, electric blanket, rain and chocolate pudding equals bliss. The rain is a-raining, the kids are a-sleeping and I am feeling good. It was a nice relaxing day. It's a rare occasion when the kids and I sync up our low energy days. Usually I'm the one dragging, trying to keep up with my little hooligans as they do their best to destroy the world as we know it.

Today, however, they were content to join me in a day of lounging. Well, almost a full day. Logan did go to preschool this morning, but Izzy and I hardly got off the couch while he was gone. Hours of couch lying with my favorite little girl. We didn't do much today, my family, and sometimes that's how I like it best. Lots of lounging around and yawning and talking about naps. Then taking them.

I'm assuming of course they are saving their energy for tomorrow, building up towards the craziest day ever. I better rest up.

Running Progress

2010-02-03T15:24:00.000-08:00

I am running a 5k the day before Valentine's Day, otherwise known as February 13. Today I did 3.1 miles in 33:48. Can I get it down to a 30 minute 5k in a week? Time will tell....

Next I'll Be Taking Names.

2010-02-03T15:08:00.000-08:00

Today was a baking day. And a cleaning day. And an organizing day. Oh, and a running day. You get the point. That point being, mostly, that I have energy. And also, coffee. I still have preschool meeting!, 30 Day Shred!, and dinner! to get through before this day is through, so the coffee is much needed. I have high hopes for making it through all two hours of Lost today, but I may be fooling myself.

This energy is brought to you by the lack of Lexapro in my system. Towards the end of last year my sleeping was getting out of control, like 9 or 10 hours at night plus a nap every single day out of control. It never once occurred to me that this excessive sleepiness could have something to do with the medication I was on, instead all I did was berate my body for it's laziness. Then I took a nap from exhaustion. All in all, not a helpful way to deal with the situation.

Then I talked with Dr. Google. Did you know most antidepressants can cause you to be tired all the time? And may make you fat? I promptly made an appointment with my doctor, my actual, real person doctor, and we agreed I had been on the medication long enough. With weaning plan in hand I headed towards this new life, this life of no depression and extra energy. Honestly, I have never felt better. The energy kicked in about two weeks after I weaned, and so far I have no signs of a relapse. No more post-partum!! If this is the very best thing that happens in 2010, I will have had a good year.

I am so glad I gave my body exactly what it needed to recover from post-partum depression, but I am so so sososososo glad to not need it any longer. Modern medicine is a wonderful thing, but not needing it in the first place is even better.

You hear that world? I kicked PPD's ass.

Bad NaBloPoMo-er Wishes You a Happy Thanksgiving

2009-11-25T21:27:00.000-08:00

Okay, I failed spectacularly at NaBloPoMo. I did not factor for getting sick this month, and I'm sure no one wanted to read what I would have deemed important enough to write about when I don't feel good. It would have been a lot of whining and declarations of love for chicken soup and tea. But hey! I got better just in time for my big three-oh birthday, which pretty much turned out to be a non-issue. I woke up, went, oh so that's what thirty feels like. Self, what were you so worked up about again? Thirty is almost the same as twenty-nine and so far pretty much rocks. That may have something to do with the fact that I felt terrible my last few days of twenty-nine, but I'm rolling with it. Thirty rocks!

To commemorate the kick-assery of my thirties, I am running the Silicon Valley Turkey Trot 10K tomorrow morning. I might have mentioned it once or twice. Going by my current times I will be one of the hundred slowest people in the race, but who cares? (She says to convince herself.)

It WILL be full of awesome. Knowing this, I am so, so completely nervous. I don't care about being slow, I just don't want to be the last person across that finish line. I REALLY don't want to not finish. And finally, I really hope to recover in time to partake of the yumminess that is Thanksgiving dinner.

So, um. Happy Thanksgiving!

Lazy

2009-11-20T21:44:00.001-08:00

Why oh why do I leave the NaBloPoMo post until the very end of the day?

Today, I have nothing much to report, other than food and wine with a very good friend makes for a happy Connie. And, really, is there much else that needs to be said?

On Friends

2009-11-19T20:56:00.000-08:00

I want to meet the people that manage to have an active, meaningful social life while still having an active, meaningful life with children. I have questions. There must be parents out there that spend quality one on one time with both their progeny and their friends. I understand life gets in the way, children get sick, deadlines loom, there's always something to demand your attention, but still, still, is it not just as important to keep the ties to our friends, those of our chosen family, stay strong and connected? I know staying intimate and involved requires time and effort and sheer will, but I firmly believe the reward worth the effort. And I also firmly believe it is damaging to the soul, the spirit, to not maintain a strong connection with this family of the heart.

Having close personal connections with the world around you makes you a better parent, a better person in general. It provides you with different outlooks, reminds you that your small corner of the world is not the only one out there. I am as guilty of putting last the time needed to maintain my loved ones last in my priorities as anyone else, but the time it actually takes to stay connected truly is insignificant. I counted. Thirty seconds to leave a voicemail. Ten minutes to have a restorative, laughter filled conversation. Three minutes to dash off an email. These people I have surrounded myself with over the years are worth the effort. And too often I find myself not making that effort, and that is my loss.

I think the answer is to do the same thing as a date night with friends. Once a month, every other month, once a week, whatever works for that particular friend, make a commitment to stay connected. Reach out. And reach out with the knowledge that there is no payback required, that the actions of friendship are not score keeping actions; because if you keep score, it diminishes these acts. I too often find myself thinking I want to get together with so and so, but I've initiated getting together the last x times. And that is ridiculous. Ridiculous. I would hope that any friend I'm choosing to stay in contact with is not just friends with me because I go out of my way to keep in touch. And I refuse to think this way any longer.

So my goal as I enter my fourth decade is to nourish my friends. To let them know I appreciate them, love them, find them an integral part of my life. A vital, important of my life.

With that knowledge I booked my plane ticket to Cancun to celebrate one of these cherished friends thirtieth in complete excitement and with very little reservations. I. Can. Not. Wait.

Wordless Wednesday (for real ya'll)

2009-11-18T18:08:00.000-08:00

Okay, I was never very good at following directions.

Oneyear ago today, we saw the Christmas season start together for the first time as a family of four.

It was still magical.

Izzy was such a little trooper, but still was the first to give in to the late hour. Some things never change.

And to all a good night.

2009-11-17T20:58:00.001-08:00

Tonight we saw Christmas start.

The tree lit up and their faces lit up and all of a sudden? All of a sudden that two hour ridiculous, oh my god we're leaving NOW dinner was worth it. The stress of getting there ceased to matter.

We waited oh so patiently.

And all of a sudden there was magic.

There was dancing.

There was joy.

And when the youngest of us faltered against the late hour, we headed home.

Counting Down to Bob

2009-11-16T15:15:00.000-08:00

Can someone tell me what to buy for Christmas this year? I'm serious. I have no clue what to get anyone on my list this year. I am positive I've started shopping too early, and have fallen prey to the game of finding that one magical, perfect present for everyone on my list.

This is exactly why I procrastinate every year! Waiting until the last second leaves very limited choices. The first item that looks remotely suitable is the one I grab, and I am relieved that there is something out there that I don't feel ashamed of gifting.

That's it, I'm putting Christmas and Hannukah on the backburner for another three weeks. Early holiday shopping, you are officially on notice.

THERE. I feel much better now.

I cannot believe that it is seasonably appropriate to buy a Christmas tree in another week and a half. This is absolutely ridiculous. 2009 needs a part deux, so I can use my newfound skill of remembering to write 2009 instead of 2008. Writing 2010 may just cause my brain to stop functioning.

Hmm. After some reflection, writing January 1, 2009, part deux may be infinitely more complicated. Okay 2010, I changed my mind. You are no longer 2009, part deux. But tell me this. Are you two thousand and ten or twenty ten?

Until I decide, I think I'll call you Bob.

Bob and I are going to be the best of friends once this 2009 business is all done with. Just wait and see.

Home Again

2009-11-15T19:40:00.000-08:00

Oh, it is good to be home again. I was gone a little over 24 hours, just enough time to visit and feel refreshed without feeling too rushed. That two hour car drive is also excellent for singing at the top of my lungs with all my favorite songs. I wonder what other people think of me when they glance into my car and see my rocking my heart out. I sing with my whole body in the car, safely of course, but I'm sure I look pretty interesting to the casual observer. Singing is good for getting all kinds of emotions out and road trips are a type of therapy for me. It's interesting what your mind wanders to when you are in a car with yourself and the chance of distraction is practically nonexistent. Some of my best epiphanies happen while on the road.

I bought the Glee soundtrack to listen to on the road and have it stuck in my head constantly since yesterday. Whoever does the arrangements of the songs is pure genius, the songs are fun and fresh while still being recognizable. So much fun to listen to while driving! I wonder if karaoke bars have seen an increase in people wanting to sing the songs from the show. I would guess yes because they're just so damn catchy.

Now that I'm back home, I need to stop procrastinating about Logan's Thanksgiving feast on Thursday. I need to come up with a nut free, egg free, dairy free dish to bring, and I'm having a little trouble thinking of what to make. I have several dishes I usually whip up for this type of event, but they don't fit in with the dietary restrictions and I'm worried I won't have any luck adapting them while still keeping the flavor and textures. Any suggestions out there? It can be either savory or sweet, my only requirement is that it be yummy. I can't imagine trying to come up with these kinds of recipes a few years ago. Without the internet I would have needed to buy an honest to god cookbook or find a recipe from someone else. Or go to the library. Thank god for technology that allows me to research answers from the comfort of my couch.

I'm a Travelin' Girl!

2009-11-14T08:38:00.001-08:00

Today will be spent driving and eating and driving and eating, then sweet, sweet sleep. Hopefully with a little wine and great conversation sprinkled throughout.

The whole time though, I'll be thinking of this:

And this:

I am so lucky to be able to get non-mommy time. It makes me appreciate what I have so much more. Until tomorrow, this traveling mommy is off!

Short, Sappy and Sincere

2009-11-13T20:22:00.000-08:00

It's Friday, I'm tired, and I've run out of things to say. Well, there is this. Today was a good day, and that is everything. It was full of laughter and hugs and smiles and hugs and many, many, many kisses. We shared cookie dough ice cream and toasted each other with milk and beer. Today was about family, this family of mine I've helped create out of love. This family of mine brings me so much joy, so much joy that I do not have enough sappy, overly simplistic words to properly express this joy I have in my husband and children. It's enough today to know my family is full of love, we are love, and our love gives us everything.

Toddlers are Sociopaths, and Why Brownies Hate Deadlines.

2009-11-12T21:09:00.000-08:00

I made brownies today. I made short, flat brownies that according to Aaron, aren't brownies at all. These brownies barely lifted from the pan. In comparison to breasts they would have been A cups at best. Where did I go wrong? I started with the best of intentions, the perfect recipe and plenty of chocolate. Anything that involves plenty of chocolate shouldn't be capable of going wrong.

The one thing I lacked that led to my downfall was time. Approximately an hour before heading off to a preschool meeting I decided to bake brownies, because that way we could enjoy a couple at home and foist the rest off on my fellow preschool parents, thus saving several thousand calories. Apparently brownies can sense when you're short on time and go horribly, horribly wrong. I still have to fulfill my brownie craving, but this craving will now have to wait until the next social gathering get satisfied.

Tonight was the monthly preschool meeting at our parent participation preschool. Good thing I didn't bring my brownies, because they would have been put to shame by the bounty brought by parents who had time to do it right. Oh, we feasted and we feasted well. In between bites we also discussed our children and how we chose to go to this particular preschool. What struck me about this discussion was how similar our goals are for our children and how similar the style of parenting and learning we wish them to have. We all believe our kids need plenty of unstructured playtime. We all believe in a positive parenting discipline style.

Parents from so many different backgrounds and life experiences all came to the same conclusion we did, namely that in order to raise our children the best we can we need to do it from a level that understands that children are not miniature adults. They do not have the emotional or intellectual maturity to approach problems the same way. Aaron and I joke about our tiny sociopaths, but honestly? There are a lot of similarities between your average toddler and sociopathic thinking. Remember that next time you try to take candy from a baby.

A day in google searches.

2009-11-11T12:16:00.000-08:00

Things I've googled today. The life of a stay at home mom is rich and varied, as you shall see.

How to organize a refrigerator.

What wine should I bring to Manresa?

What to do with an enormous, life sucking blister when you need to run.

Did Dollhouse really get cancelled?

Really?

Why does Fox suck so much?

Pictures of cute kittens that cure sadness brought on by Fox sucking so much.

Where can I adopt cute kittens?

How to keep kittens in a kitten like state forever.

Why must kittens turn into cats?

Pictures of puppies in baskets.

Why are most cute things little?

Much later...

Healthy sweet potato recipes.

How to cook brussel sprouts one purchased at the farmer's market, but one now doesn't have the slightest clue what to do with them.

How to tune out screaming while cooking dinner.

Acceptable time to start drinking on a Wednesday.

Hey, now's an acceptable time for that glass or three of wine. Thanks, Google! Maybe I should stop googling every thought that comes into my mind. Is there such a thing as a googling addiction? I'm going to go search that very question that after I pour some wine. Maybe I should use Bing. Just in case.

Running to Eat Turkey

2009-11-10T14:34:00.000-08:00

Training for this 10K is not going particularly well. Things started off in a rush due to my lack of knowledge about the event even existing until it was less than four weeks away. I did jump on signing up for the Turkey Trot immediately, and even convinced two of my friends to run it with me. I mean, this is pretty much the perfect athletic event. It's on Thanksgiving, which will give me license to eat all the Thanksgiving food my stomach can handle. My stomach is amazingly in it's abilities and is capable of packing away disgusting amounts of Thanksgiving courses. I'm hoping this becomes my own personal tradition, a way of tempering my desire to enjoy holidays with all the traditional, fatty food with my desire to maintain some sort of girlish figure.

I was in pretty good shape and working out regularly up until two months ago, when for no reason I abandoned my routine and slid backwards into old lazy, slacker ways. Finding out about the turkey trot was exactly the kick in the ass I needed to get back into a routine. Unfortunately, my body had other plans. As soon as I got one run done with, I became sick. Sick with a vague, lingering, energy sucking disease that defied all medical diagnosis. Or it would have had I gone to the doctor.

This cold/flu/uncontrollable oinking or whatever laid me up for most of my first week of training. Now, I only had 3 1/2 weeks of training to begin with. So here I am, two weeks and two days away from my first 10K and I have run exactly twice. Twice. I am desperately trying to come up with a training plan that doesn't end in me vomiting and passing out on the finish line. Or, quel horreur, not even making it to the finish line.

So far my plan involves a great deal of walking. What's the world record for slowest 10K? My new plan is to go faster than that.

Seriously, I plan on adding at least one interval session to my training per week. The research points to that being the most effective way to increase endurance, which I desperately need most. Six miles will be the longest distance I've ever run. Last weekend I did four miles, which is on the upper end of the most Connie's ever run. My feet need toughening up, as I ended up with the most amazing blister on my foot. I almost had to give it a name, it was so large, but decided that was just asking for it to stick around. So between my illness and my foot, training stalled out before it really began.

All this lead up to this week, where I kick off my ambitious kick ass training regime. Guaranteed to make marathoners out of the habitual leisurely strollers.

Monday - day of rest due to enormous blister.

Tuesday - quick (ha!) 3 mile run.

Wednesday - weights and yoga.

Thursday - intervals.

Friday - quick (har har) 3 mile run.

Saturday - weights.

Sunday - yoga.

Monday - 4 to 5 mile run.

We shall see. I fear disaster, yet hope for the best.

October in pictures

2009-11-09T19:19:00.000-08:00

Rocket ship birthday cake, take one. No pictures exist of take two, which is fine, since this was far more photogenic.

Logan is not throwing a gang sign, he is demonstrating how old he is with fingers.

Gambit would like cake now, please.

So would Izzy.

Logan's super cool birthday motorcycle.

My sailor girl.

All dressed up for a rehearsal dinner. I have no words for how cute my daughter is.

Or my son. Is he flirting with the camera?

I call this one mommy at rest.

Pumpkin hunting.

Halloween 2009.

Izzy ladybug in a rare moment of stillness.

Logan really gets into his roles. He's a method actor.

The ladybug and the doggy lived happily ever after.

Daughters and Bears

2009-11-08T11:06:00.000-08:00

I have a bear named Stephanie that is about as old as I am. Over the years she's required surgery both minor and major and has the appearance of being a little too well loved, but she has been with me for almost thirty years and deserves all her wrinkles and rubbed worn fur.

Today my daughter found my bear in the stuffed animal box and started carting her around. When Aaron asked her what the bear's name is, she immediately christened her Deet Deet Deet. This is not a mistake, as she has gone on multiple times to lovingly refer to the bear as Deet Deet Deet. We're going with this name for now, but hopefully we will soon come up with a nickname that is both acceptable and easier to type. But for now, where Izzy names we shall follow. Deet Deet Deet, nee Stephanie, is enjoying a resurgence of love in her old age. I'm very happy my daughter and my bear have found each other.

Deet Deet Deet is joining an ever growing family of babies and stuffed animals. Izzy is a great multi-tasker when it comes to sharing her attention with the inhabitants of our house. There are two babies she takes care of on a regular basis. They go for regular walks around the house, enjoy a daily bottle jammed in their mouths and fall asleep to tuneless renditions of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Countless animals get dragged around the house by various limbs and get tossed in anger or boredom. They are subject to her whims. She is by turns a benevolent, loving ruler and a ruthless, tyrannical dictator. One thing for sure, it is never boring when Izzy is in charge.

Why I didn't go into interior decorating.

2009-11-07T18:40:00.000-08:00

Today, I am lusting over furniture.

Want, don't know where it would go.

Actually, I do know exactly where it belongs, but as that requires a major bedroom decorating project and I'm rather fond of my husband's head and don't want it to explode, I think I'll continue lusting from afar. Moving on.

This chair is begging to come home to Mama. It wants me to sit down and forget all my worries while strategically placed so I can gaze out the window at the magically landscaped backyard. Hey, is that the patio we were going to build last summer? Oh magic chair, I love you so. You make all my dreams come true.

Where was I?

Magic chair may be too overwhelming for mere mortals. Maybe I should find something equally pleasing to the eye, but less, um, hallucination inducing. That makes my criteria for furniture one, must not make husband's head explode and two, must not induce hallucinations.

Here we go:
This just screams Sit on me! But don't get too comfy 'cause you'll fall off! You know, perfect for the mom on the go. But what if I do fall off? That can't be good parenting. It's hard to parent when unconscious. Criteria three, does not lead to unconsciousness. This is starting to get hard. I require further research into alternatives to husband exploding hallucinatory unconscious rendering furniture.

Three Special Steps

2009-11-06T13:59:00.001-08:00

We are obsessed with lists in our house. Our current obsession stems from the watching of a show on the Disney channel, Special Agent Oso. This charmingly inept stuffed bear has introduced the three special steps into our household, and now everything we do must be broken down into the three special steps. And then we must sing the three special steps song. Every single day we must sing the song.

Example A, sung when we go to the store.

Step one! Put on your shoes!

Step two! Get in the car!

Step three! Drive to the grocery store!

Logan's perfect day is also frequently broken down into three special steps. He marches around the house, singing this song.

Step one! Watch a show!

Step two! Go to Grandma's house!

Step three! Go to the park!

Oh, buddy, if only. Much more fun than my three special steps about the grocery store.

Logan wants to know what the three special steps are for everything. Most of the time I am able to break down his life into three special steps, but sometimes life requires a fourth, fifth or even sixth special step. Sometimes the world doesn't fit neatly into a set of arbitrary rules. Things are not as simple as they seem on children's shows, but I think I'm getting ahead of myself. There are plenty of years to teach him about life's complications, it's twists and unique turns. But not now. Now is the time to enjoy the simplicity of three special steps.

Wordless Wednesday (Thursday edition)

2009-11-05T16:42:00.000-08:00

Summer memories of apples and Spiderman to keep us warm as the weather turns colder.

It's beginning to smell a lot like eggnog.

2009-11-04T18:19:00.000-08:00

I resist the retailer's siren song of Christmas every year until, one day, I enter a coffee shop that is too big to need to be named and smell coffee, nutmeg and the heavy, sweet richness of egg and cream melded together. The eggnog latte destroys my carefully built defenses every year and I taste Christmas with that first sip. From then, it's game on. Though it may be too early to buy a tree or put up my lights, I find myself humming Christmas songs and dreaming of holiday cookies and parties yet to be planned. I love this time of year, because it's just on the cusp of holiday fun and yet to early to really get stressed out about gifts and decorations and planning those parties.

This year adds an extra special note of fun with Logan being in preschool. I am so looking forward to receiving my first handmade present from him, displaying his winter artwork and just sharing my love of the holiday season with him. This year he understood the concept of Halloween for the first time and I know he is going to love this holiday season. This year he will believe in the magic of Santa Claus and sing tuneless renditions of Jingle Bells and I am so damn excited at the thought.

Izzy loves to keep up with Logan and participates as best she can in all his holiday fun. I think it must be because she has an older brother to emulate that she is already able to sing some favorite songs and is generally more aware of the holiday rituals around her than Logan was at this age. It also doesn't hurt that we spend a lot more time describing different holidays and what to expect and anticipate.

But mostly, she adores big brother and wants to do what he does, whether it is feasible or not. She will not be held back because of her age. Logan's whims instantly become her fierce desires. Logan starts demanding candy from the Halloween pumpkin, before I know it I have a three foot revolt on my hands. Not that I give in to their demands, but it is awesome watching them interact and feed off each other. Awesome in a slightly fearful way, but awesome all the same.

This year we are heading into the holidays as a fully functioning family of four and I shall need all the eggnog lattes I can get my hands on just to keep up. Let the games begin!

Running

2009-11-03T20:43:00.001-08:00

This blog post is brought to you by bone crushing tired. Energy, I has none.

Adding to the November madness is a brand new commitment to run the Silicon Valley Turkey Trot 10K on Thanksgiving. I ran tonight for the first time in a couple months, and I am so very, very sore. And tired. And maybe delusional. But my twenties are going out with a bang, goddammit. If it be the bang of my knee going poof, then that's the way it has to end.

Yesterday was one big roller coaster of emotion. I woke up this morning, secure in the fact that Aaron and I know our son. We know him. He might have some sensory issues, but this tentative diagnosis from an occupational therapist is in no way applicable to my boy.

Well doesn't that sound like denial? Trust me, we have not ruled out all possible diagnoses, but this particular one that I've been worried over all yesterday is

just

not

there.

NaBloPoMo? YouBloPoMo!

2009-11-01T18:19:00.001-08:00

It's time for me to admit that I really need a kick in the rear to start writing again. The universe is oddly in tune with my needs, as the very same day I decided to rev up my blogging skills I then learned is the start of Nablopomo. So, I shall blog for the next thirty days. Yes, even on my birthday. Hmm, I must write to the founders of Nablopomo to petition for a different month next year. November is a notoriously packed month for this girl. Hey universe, I said I needed a kick, not a sideswipe with a car! Okay, fine, you're right, I totally need this challenge.

Speaking of my packed month, here are a few of my favorite things coming up in the next thirty days. Favorite of course can be interchanged with undeniable or awful but worth the sacrifice. There all the same here.

1. The fat flush diet starts. I refuse to exit my twenties at my heaviest weight. And yes, I know all the research on detox diets. I just like the spelled out meal plans.

2. Speaking of, this month I turn thirty. Or twenty nine for the second time. You know, whichever.

3. Thanksgiving! Where my husband and I get to be child wranglers for several hours while attempting to prevent our children from destroying my aunt's house. This is much harder to do after ingesting your body weight in sweet potatoes and marshmallows.

4. Preschool meetings, classes, fundraisers and committees galore.

5. Um. Hmm.

6. I know! Wait, that's Christmas. Which is December, no matter what the retail world wants us to think.

7. Yes, I'm totally cheating and making my list look bigger. SO WHAT.

8. Oh yes! Dinner with lovely people at a lovely restaurant where we will dine on several thousand courses of lovely food.

9. Did I say I'm turning thirty?

10. Writing one of these every day.

See, self? This will be easy.

CALI, now with even more birthday pictures!

2009-05-13T14:32:00.001-07:00

A little late, but here it is. Pictures from Izzy's first birthday. At least I'm not two whole months late, because that would be unacceptable.

Izzy 1st bday party

A Nugget Catastrophe

2008-12-23T14:01:00.000-08:00

Driving home from my mom's house today, I made a spontaneous trip to Wendy's. The children had been lovely for my mom, so I decided that deserved french fries for all french fry eating citizens in the car. Izzy would watch excitedly, and dream of the day she too would eat french fries, a reward in and of itself. French fries were purchased and distributed and we turned out of the parking lot to head home.

That's where I made my fatal mistake: handing Logan a chicken nugget. You would have thought I had handed him a flaming coal of dung. He tossed that nugget so fast and with such accuracy it went flying accross the backseat onto Izzy's sweater. I watched in horror as her chubby hand made the inevitable journey to capture this present from her beloved big brother. I watched and I frantically looked for anywhere to pull over. Being on a busy street, this was not immediately possible. I reviewed the baby Heimlich maneuver in my head because I was certain my daughter was a second away from jamming an entire chicken nugget into her previously meat free mouth.

However. The second her hand made contact with that nugget she burst into screams of such ear piercing wonder all I could do was stare at her in awe. How did I produce something capable of being so very, very loud? Screaming in pain, she held fast to that nugget, not knowing it was the source of her agony. Logan starting shouting "Izzy sad! Izzy sad! French fry!"

Admist all this chaos I finally found a side street, whipped the car to the right and slammed the parking brake on. I threw the car door open just in time for a truck to go hurtling by mere inches from my head. Why does Christmas bring out all the maniac speed demons?? I opened Izzy's door and removed the offending nugget from her hand, which took some effort due to the death grip she was practicing on the poor thing. Then I kissed her greasy, nugget stained fingers over and over, apologizing for Mama's oversight that lead to this catastrophe.

I swear to god, the nugget was not even hot. Lukewarm at best. I must have oven mitts for hands, because my children reacted like I handed them something straight from a 500 degree oven. While I felt very, very bad for Izzy and her poor little hand, part of me was laughing so, so hard at the whole spectacle. This was such an unexpected detour in the day and such a needed distraction. I have now learned my lesson: no chicken nuggets are to be handed to children while in a moving vehicle. Because, god, the screaming is so not worth the comedy that will ensue.

2008-12-17T14:51:00.000-08:00

Today I've decided it's time to wake up and take a good long look at the world. I am damn proud of where I am and what I've accomplished. Raising two children is not for wimps. But. It is time to do something else. I almost said more, but that's not exactly what I mean. Something more diminishes this act of raising children, the most backbreaking, selfless work of all. By more I mean simply that. More. I need to do more with my life.

I feel trapped in an endless cycle of sippy cups, diapers, naps, more diapers and crying, crying, crying and need, need, need. I feel like I'm losing my brain, my mental capacity, my ability to talk about anything that doesn't deal with the three foot under set. My children will always be my most rewarding creations, but the day to day grind of being a parent is not exactly intellectual. I want to be more intellectual. I miss discussing current events and having heated debates. Can we just have one conversation where the focus is not on poop? Please?

I want to be able to write a cohesive sentence again. I feel like I've lost that ability. The reason I haven't updated this blog in forever is not because I'm lazy (though there is that too), but because I cannot make the words stream across the page into any sort of coherent, flowing sentence. I start and stop. Three sentences are written and promptly discarded. I have a long list of blog posts that are waiting to be edited, most likely destined for the great delete button in the sky. And I'm sick of it. I need more. My journey starts now, as even though I feel like I've written a big pile of steaming crap, I am going to hit the publish button. In this case, a big pile of steaming crap is better than empty space taunting me.

Ouch

2008-09-29T16:45:00.000-07:00

The babies, they be sleeping. And I should be too. Poor little guys had their shots today. The doctor warned us that Logan's shots would hurt a lot more than Izzy's. MMR and Varicella shots have to be done sideways, just under the skin, which apparently hurts more. Also, they're half powder so they are viscuous, which makes them hurt more too. Oh and at the same time? The nurse has to throw a ten pound brick on his foot. So it will hurt more. Aaron and I were all like we get it, now where's the vodka?

I clutched Izzy to me so I could comfort her while she received her shots while Aaron restrained Logan. Then the screaming began. The shots were given simultaneously by two nurses so that Logan would not be able to put two and two together and make a run for it. Instead he looked up at us, trusting that we would not let him get hurt. Then we let him get hurt. But it was for his own good. Izzy just screamed, but she's not old enough to understand that we let this happen to her.

Seriously, more pediatricians need to prescribe topical anesthetics when an appointment that involves vaccinations is made. They gave it to me when I was doing some laser hair removal. It's so simple, reduces pain and helps kids not develop a fear of the doctor. Why make poor babies hurt when there's another option? I know it's not a panacea, but it does help. See, this article even has the research to back it up. Our pediatrician is so good about selectively delaying vaccinations, being up to date on the latest recommendations, reassuring all our fears, etc... that I don't know why she's not on board with topical anesthetics. I will be bringing it up at Izzy's nine month appointment. You know, unless it slips from my mind between now and then.

We received the 2 year and 6 month stats for Logan and Isabelle. They are growing slowly, but steadily. To no one's surprise, Aaron and I do not make children that climb off the growth charts. They start off by being ginormous, belly stretching fetuses, are born at the top of the charts (they do this on purpose to torture mom), then drop percentiles for months. It is reassuring to see Izzy follow an almost identical growth pattern to Logan, becoming more and more petite. We will get a lot of mileage out of her 6 month clothes. Oh who am I kidding? I will get bored by them and have to buy her new ones because she is just so. darn. cute.

Logan will probably be rear facing for at least the next decade, since Aaron and I are waiting to turn him around until he reaches the rear facing weight maximum on his carseat. He's only 28 pounds, and has five pounds to go until he reaches the maximum. I can just see him going to take his driving test in a rear facing seat with a lot of strategically placed mirrors. Or at least a five point harness booster seat.

We got the okay to start Izzy on solids, and will probably be doing so this week. Stay tuned for lots of pictures of mashed bananas on every surface. Maybe even a video of the momentous event!

Mother's Battle

2008-09-25T15:02:00.000-07:00

Today is a hard day to be a mom. Stuck smack in the middle of the toddler years, all I see are days and weeks and months of this constant battle between the need for me versus the need to create his own identity. My day consists of tiny toddler feet needing to be so, so close to me that I am constantly trampled, shoved and just generally battered. Is it possible to be battered with love? I have no room to breathe. Most of the time I love this closeness, this connectedness I have with my son but sometimes it gets to be too much. And I need some room to breathe.

My Izzy turns six months on Sunday. My heart tightens when I think about her, physically squeezing me with love. But. I cannot set her down long enough to go to the bathroom. That panicky feeling of listening to her cry when I rush off to attend to something I cannot do while holding her is wearing on me.

And yet? When I do get that alone time, when both her and Logan sleep for me, my arms feel empty. When I move, I automatically watch for the boy who is a breath behind me so I don't trample him in return. I listen closely for any stirrings so that I may run to their rooms and see their little faces greet me. I go through my own constant battle of independence and the deep, constant need for my children, my hearts.

Some days I am able to find the balance: enjoy my children thoroughly while they are awake and get my personal space back while they sleep. On those days I feel rejuvenated and ready for more. Other days, not so much. Today is one of those other days. I love them, always, always love them, but when they're awake I look forward to nap time, to my time. Then I spend all of nap time feeling guilty and waiting for them to wake up again so I can make up for the fact that I wanted them to leave me alone, if only for a moment. So, today is a hard day to be a mom.

Party planning, it's like crack!

2008-09-09T13:52:00.000-07:00

I had the honor of being in two dear friends weddings this summer. I knew it would be difficult to manage a newborn, a toddler and all the various events that come with weddings, but ultimately I had no choice. I needed to be a part of this, and somehow it would all work out. This summer was busy, so busy, but I did it. I threw parties, attended gatherings and functions, calmed and freaked out brides (sometimes simultaneously!), yet somehow managed to be a mother at the same time. Right now I feel a huge sense of accomplishment. Look at me, I can multitask!

After experiencing that summer madness I feel like a slacker now. What to do with all these planning, stress free hours in the day? I didn't realize just how stressed out I've been until it was all over, but I feel physically lighter.

There is a dark side to my freedom though. I've been getting antsy. What to do with all these stress free hours in the day? It's only been two days since the last wedding and I am already thinking ahead to the next event. Logan turns two in a little less than a month and I am getting anxious that I haven't started planning his party yet. I know it's only been two days of event free living, but I am addicted and need my next fix. I know I'll regret it many times before it's over, but I just can't help myself.

I create more stress for myself than I need to by having both extremely high expectations of myself and a desire to throw the kinds of parties you see in movies. Therefore, I have a pretty predictable party cycle.

2 months in advance

Plan date for party.
Realize event is very far off with plenty of time to do any actual preparations.

1 month in advance

Realize invites need to be sent out.
Send invites out.
Relax, think of party as some amorphous event way off in the future.

1 week in advance

Finally look at a calendar. Realize party is coming up much faster than thought.
Freak out.
Write a list. Sample item: take toothbrush to entire house and scrub.
Freak out at amount of things on list.
Cull list to manageable amount.

3 days before party

Wonder why it's so hard to rsvp these days.

2 days before

Design dream party menu.

1 day before

Dream party menu too complicated. Frozen appetizers from Trader Joes are much better.
Shop. Buy way too much food because God forbid anyone go hungry.

Morning of party

Madly decorate house in theme.
Shout out a honey do list while cleaning bathrooms.
Clean the baseboards. You know, because my friends really care how clean they are.
Sob about how I don't really like parties and why am I doing this again?
Not eat for entire day because am too busy cleaning baseboards.

Evening of party

Lay out food 15 minutes before party is supposed to start.
Realize I have yet to get dressed or put makeup on. Rush to bedroom to remedy.
Why aren't people here yet? It's 8:05 and the invitation clearly said 8 pm. Panic that no one is coming.

9 pm

Look around, realize I know way too many people. Feel blessed.

11 pm

Drunkenly declare the theme and date of next party.

And you wonder why I can't get enough?

Logan's World

2008-09-03T21:31:00.000-07:00

So, I have a post about Sarah Palin brewing in my head, but am far too tired to make coherent arguments right now.

Instead I bring you the world according to Logan.

Sesame Street only consists of parts actively featuring Elmo. When I demand Sesame Street, you, as my loving parent, should know that I mean Elmo and only Elmo. No one understands me like Elmo does. Stupid adult skits featuring Jon Stewart and Neil Patrick Harris only serve to enhance your enjoyment of Sesame Street, and do nothing for mine. As you know, the world exists to enhance my enjoyment at the cost of all else. Please fast forward through all non-Elmo, non-Sesame Street portions of Sesame Street or I will scream. Repeatedly. This will cause you to scream. Repeatedly.

When I say "waffle" please know that I do not necessarily want a waffle, but that the waffle stands as a symbol of my desire for food. When I say "cereal" please know that I will only accept cereal. There are other foods that are a passable substitute for waffles, no such thing exists for cereal. As a side note, fruit should be offered at all times.

When I wake up I don't actually want to get out of bed. That crying you hear? It's to make sure you're here. Why should I bother calling your name when crying gets the job done just fine? Once you check on me you are free to go about your day as long as you come running the second I yell for you. Which I will do repeatedly, just to make sure you're still here. After all, playing in my crib is only fun as long as I know there's a way out.

Oh, buddy, you rock my world. Mama loves you.

Letting it all out

2008-09-01T20:00:00.000-07:00

Here's my post up at Lil Mom That Could. Warning: contains information about my births you may not want to know. Thanks Lil Mom!

Bitchfest: A Bitch About a Bitch

2008-08-31T20:34:00.000-07:00

We all need a chance to vent and get it all out and just generally. you know, bitch about life, family, work, whatever. At the same time so many of our blogs are read by friends and family, and while we do open up about our personal lives on these blogs, there are some things we just don't feel comfortable sharing because of the hurt feelings or drama that would inevitably ensue. Catherine of Her Bad Mother declared this Labor Day weekend a Bitchfest, and many of us are exchanging blog spaces in order to let the venting happen anonymously. Sometimes you just need a safe space in which to be brutally honest about life, and I'm pleased to donate my blog to the cause.

My husband is one of ten kids. He has four brothers and five sisters. I love his brothers and three of his sisters. The other two sisters are the most jealous, miserable women I have ever met who have perfected the art of gossiping and back stabbing. I am often one of their victims.

They both deserve their own rant so this post will only be about Bitch #1.

I actually like Bitch #1 when she’s drunk and away from Bitch #2. The rest of the time I want to drop kick her out of the universe. She is two years younger than my husband and stepped into the role of his caretaker after their parents passed away. She was living with my husband up until a month before I came into the picture because she had gotten married. She has assumed the role of the wicked mother-in-law ever since but it took me awhile to figure out she was playing me.

Her ploy was to befriend me. I was a stupid young girl and actually thought she liked me when the entire time she was backstabbing me. She would get me to share personal details about myself and my sex life with her brother then share it with her sisters. Of course there was always a spin to make me look bad and not worthy of her brother. I swear she’s got some sick love for him. There were times that I felt like she wanted to marry him.

She was always in our business and overly controlling about our wedding. I get so pissed off when I think back to how I let her have her way. Like I said I was a stupid, trusting, young girl.

I get sick to my stomach when I think back to how she made fun of the jewelry boxes I decoupaged for my bridesmaids (yes, she was a bridesmaid). Hers happened to be the fanciest but the smallest and she took it as a great insult that she got the smallest one. She had her whole table laughing at her sarcasm about it. I was so hurt that some of the people at her table were family members that I thought liked me. She’s very good at getting people under her spell.

My getting pregnant quickly while she was dealing with infertility made her dislike me even more and she was nicer than ever as she pulled me into her web. She pretended to be so excited about my pregnancy and offered to go to doctor appointments with me, maternity clothes shopping, and hosted my baby shower. What I didn’t know at the time was that she was telling the family that I was insensitive to her being unable to conceive and that it was me asking her to accompany me to appointments and shopping. She would ask to watch the ultrasound video or feel the baby move and then tell family that I was the one who insisted.

When my daughter was born she made sure that she was the first person to see her and hold her besides my husband. From that day on she got weird, bordering psychotic. I can understand how difficult it must have been for her to see me have a baby when she couldn’t but what I don’t understand is why she made herself such a big part of it.

By this time most of the family was onto her jealousy of me and were starting to discount her claims about me since they saw me be anything but what she claimed. Especially since I had made the commitment to give her daily hormone shots (I’m an RN).

She suffocated me during my daughter’s first year and behaved as if she was her baby. She even went so far as to say to my infant daughter, “Say bye-bye to mommy. I’m your mommy now” as I left my daughter in her care. I was more than freaked out about it and ended up finishing up my errand early so I could go back and pick up my daughter.

She was put off if I didn’t give her a bigger photo size of my daughter than the ones I gave the rest of the family, got pissed that she wasn’t chosen to be our daughter’s custodian in our will and overstepped many boundaries. She ignored my requests to not give my daughter table food or candy and when I asked her to stop she told me that she was the aunt and could do what she wants especially if that meant spoiling my child.

I eventually asked for space which ended up with us in a huge argument. She is very passive-aggressive and never owns up to anything she’s called on. Every complaint I had was met with her telling me that I misunderstood what she really meant or that she was just joking.

She stayed mad at me for awhile after that and we were never close again. I just kill her with kindness. I have so many more examples but I know I need to wrap up this rant.

She did eventually adopt two children and had one biological child who happens to not be her husband’s but the product of a one night stand. I happen to know her dirty little secret because someone that worked with her ended up being a good friend of mine and spilled the beans to me. If this was a soap opera instead of real life I would be using this info to blackmail her. I have definitely fantasized about it.

Over the years she has continued to bad mouth me and judge everything I do. At one point some family members including my husband got fed up and had a sit-down with her and basically told her to find someone else to pick on because they were sick of it.

She laid off for awhile or at least I think she did but recently has started her crap with me again. I’m guessing it’s because her life is unraveling. She’s in huge debt, works harder than she would like to support her family, and is very unhappy in her marriage. Turns out her creepy husband is a registered sex offender who spent time in jail for rape and her son is showing sociopathic behavior.

Last week my husband’s niece babysat for Bitch #1 and was not treated well by the bitch and her creepy husband on top of the fact that her kids are nightmares. This niece babysits for me often and this must really bother Bitch #1 because her competitiveness with me got the best of her and her creepy husband. He went as far as to ask the niece whose kids she thinks are cuter; theirs or mine and Bitch #1 questioned the niece about what she thought of me and if I paid well. She also insinuated that I only called the niece when I needed something.
Fortunately the niece is in my corner and told her that she loves me and that I’m often the first person she goes to for boyfriend advice. She also told her that I pay very well and always make sure to give her extra money for gas. The best was when she shared with her that I frequently send care packages when she’s away at college. The niece said that at that point Bitch #1 turned the greenest shade of green she has ever seen.

I so love when she gets put in her place.

Common sense? Not so much.

2008-08-27T16:17:00.001-07:00

I am hot. Too hot to move, to hot to nurse. Izzy agrees with me, she went 5 hours between feedings because it was just too damn hot to lie that close to another person. We went to the library and I tried feeding her in the children's room, thinking it would be in a supportive atmosphere and air conditioned to boot. She screamed as she was put under the nursing cover, screamed as I tried to jam my nipple into her open mouth and screamed, screamed, screamed until I uncovered her wriggling body. This girl? Does not like to be covered.

I am trying to get up my mommy courage to feed her in public without the cover. I know it's my right and my responsibility to feed her whenever, wherever, but she pops off and on and I feel oh so exposed. So I don't. Today I felt the sideways looks and silent judgment of the other moms in the room. The perfect moms, the ones who would never have their child scream in a library. Maybe it's all in my head and I felt defensive, but I felt it. I felt so vulnerable as I sat there trying to feed my baby and keep my book mad toddler from flinging every single book on the floor.

And? Whose child screams with hunger as you're trying to feed her? Anyone?? Because Izzy gets supremely pissed if you don't feed her when she demands it. Piss this girl off enough and she will rage against you for hours. Even as you're trying to remedy the cause of what pissed her off in the first place. She is my heart, my angel, my one true Isabear, but I don't think she'd do very well on her own. If left in the wild she would quickly perish, screaming all the while. Even if somehow a wild animal took pity on her and attempted to feed her, scream she would because it did not happen WHEN SHE WANTED IT. No wild animal is built to withstand such an assault. Only her mother.

Once I rocked her for 2 solid hours as she wailed about how sad she was that I didn't feed her. God forbid I actually try to feed her during that time. That just made her cry harder. Apparently common sense is the baby's natural enemy.

The Poop Chronicles

2008-08-26T16:14:00.001-07:00

Logan wakes up with hugest poop ever. I reach for the wipes before remembering wipes are banned. I start to swear at the fact I have nothing in reach to clean him up with, then remembers swearing is banned as well. Our little mimic is learning new words every day, and we don't want certain words to become part of his burgeoning vocabulary. No matter how often said words are part of our vocabulary. Toilet paper is gathered, a washcloth is wetted and poop is dealt with. Logan goes into pajama bottoms with socks pulled up over the cuffs. You know, to catch the ick. Off Logan goes to sit on his towel on the bed and enjoy his morning milk and cereal. A little freaked out about what will happen, I follow and try not to hover.

Logan demands Signing Time. Signing Time must be presented within approximately 30 seconds or the world will end. Lacking coffee and the energy to persuade Logan that the absence of Signing Time is not indicative of the apocalypse, I find Signing Time on the Tivo and present it to Logan for his enjoyment. Content, Logan lies back and relaxes. Off I go to get a much needed cup of coffee. When I return, I ask Logan if he would like to use the potty. Logan indicates that why yes, he would like to use the potty. He races to the bathroom, sits on the potty, then immediately jumps up and demands toilet paper. Enough toilet paper is used to dry 12 little boy bottoms.

Amount of pee in potty: 0. Outfits peed on: 0 (Yes!). Poops: 1.

Izzy wakes up and softly hoots for some company and food and soft arms to cuddle in please. So I unwrap my little present from the swaddling blanket, change her diaper and go back to bed to nurse. Logan alternates between watching Signing Time and running around the room. I look away for a minute and hear "uh oh". I look back at Logan just in time to see liquid run down his leg and onto the floor. Poor Izzy has to pause her meal so that I can clean Logan up and put new pajama bottoms with socks rolled over the cuffs on him.

Amount of pee in potty: 0. Outfits peed on: 1. Poops: 1.

Izzy finishes her meal and I jump in the shower.

"Uh oh."

I peer out the shower door to see Logan wet his pants again. I guess I should have put him on the potty before I showered, but hey, I'm new at this! I finish my shower at warp speed, change Logan again and sit him on the potty. Of course, nothing happens.

Amount of pee in potty: 0. Outfits peed on: 2. Poops: 1.

A diaper is procured, for we are heading out of the house shortly and there is no way I am ready for what a diaperless Logan can do in public. Besides, he'd be going commando and I'm just not okay with that. Right before we leave, he poops again. How much can a little boy poop a day, because this, this is getting ridiculous. I change his diaper and run off to pick up prescriptions and little boy underwear. Once the prescription is gathered, I duck into Target's restroom to slather some ointment on his poor bottom. Only to find that he pooped again! 3 poops before lunchtime. I really, really want to revoke the no swearing rule at this point but somehow find it in me to refrain from saying what's on my mind.

Elmo underwear is purchased, followed by a crazy toddler filled lunch with Monique and kids. We head home for a nap. You know where this is going, right? I go to change his diaper, and you guessed it. Logan poops again!

Amount of pee in potty: 0. Outfits peed on: 2. Poops: 4.

Logan wakes up from nap with a suspected poop. He won't let me take him out of his crib to confirm existence of said poop because he knows I'm just going to attack him with a washcloth, and right now that really hurts. I'm fine with him playing in his crib for a few minutes, it gives me a chance to avoid dealing with suspected poop. He relaxes in his crib while calling Mama every few minutes to make sure I'm still there. I am.

Aaron arrives home and I send him off to deal with Logan and the Suspected Poop. I was right. Logan goes on the potty, does absolutely nothing on it. Elmo underwear is worn with much fanfare.

Oh hai Mom! I no has poop now.

We play, laugh, eat and bathe. Izzy joins in the fun and oohs at everyone.

Bedtime approaches and one last trip to the potty is made. If you're thinking that some pee would finally make its way to the potty, you obviously don't know toddlers.

Final tally of the day.

Amount of pee in potty: none dammit, none none none. Outfits peed on: 2 (yay?). Poops: 5.

Five poops for an almost two year old must be some sort of record. No wonder he has the amazingly awful diaper rash, his poor bottom does not get the chance to heal! I wonder if he will go potty on the potty at all before it clears up and we are no longer forced to be diaper free. I'm assuming it's going to be awfully hard to potty train our little boy if he's busy training for the Olympics of poop.

Oh and Izzy? Is adorable and lovely, and her defecating frequency is nothing out of the ordinary. In case you were wondering.

Of rashes and pottys and little boy booties

2008-08-25T14:52:00.000-07:00

Logan has an awful, bloody, insanely painful, personality altering diaper rash. It is so bad, in fact, that I called the doctor. We never call the doctor. Most new parents call their pediatrician of an average of, oh, I don't know, a hundred times that first year. Us? Not once in the first year and twice in the second. Both times for illnesses with Very Serious Names. With a judicious use of google, family members with medical training and a little boy who so far gets rarely sick we've avoided needing to call the pediatrician with the exception of the two Illnesses noted above. But this? This demanded a call. Logan stopped walking and crawled when he need to get somewhere, which I fervently hope to never see again. Little boys should only be crawling in games, not because it hurts too much to walk.

Warning: under no circumstances should you google bloody diaper rash while eating lunch. Just saying.

So, a call to the doctor was made, and after many minutes of waiting (127 to be exact)we had a return call from the pediatrician. Diagnosis? Very Serious Diaper Rash. Well, okay. A prescription for an anti-inflammatory was made and we are under strict orders to keep Logan out of diapers for the next few days. It will be messy and inconvenient, but so is love and this damn diaper rash. The doctor said to stick him in pants with socks pulled up over the cuffs to catch the mess (eww). So Logan will be going commando until the rash is better, we will have much more laundry to do than normal and we are making our first forays into the world of potty training.

I haven't done much research into potty training yet, as we've wanted to make it a low-key, organic transition for Logan. Every once in a while I would look up the signs of potty readiness, of which he had few until fairly recently. I am sitting here frantically studying the various methods of potty training. So far my personal method consists of asking him if he needs to go potty whenever I remember. We shall see if that's enough or if we need to take more drastic measures.

Also, now we have to decide what we want to call everything. Is it potty? Pee? Pee pee? Urine? Or please no, tinkle? We lean towards the correct name for body parts and actions around here, but so far I've shied away from saying the word penis to Logan. We ask him if he wants to go potty which seems to work so far. But am I teaching him that there is something shameful about his private parts by calling them and their actions something cutesy and inconsequential like potty or pee pee? It's enough to make me want to delay potty training indefinitely.

Things I love.

2008-08-20T17:20:00.000-07:00

Smelling the sweet perfume of Izzy's head, her soft hair gently tickling my nose. The smell of innocence and trust lies within.

Logan's loud HIIII when I walk by his room (even if, especially if he's supposed to be sleeping).

The smile Izzy gives me when I say her name. She dazzles.

The young, precious sound of Logan's voice. Watching him discover new words and watching as a new world opens to him through communication.

Talking with my son. We converse. We! Converse!

Morning snuggles and coffee. I feed, hug, talk, laugh and love while we pile on the bed in pj's. It's especially sweet on the weekends when Aaron is there to participate.

Watching as my baby suckles my breast. The fierce need we have for each other is never more apparent than at this time.

Those five minutes before Aaron comes home, knowing that soon I will have my partner in this chaos, to share in this time of simultaneous joy and panic. We discover our children together.

Izzy's first laugh. It was a doozy and completely unexpected.

Coming up with new nicknames for different personalities. Izzabear and Logatron make regular appearances. Apparently Logan passed on the persona of Chompy McChompyson onto my darling daughter, who regularly mauls my nipples for reasons known only to her.

The sweet weight of my boy as we sing his goodnight song. It is our time to reconnect and reaffirm our bond as mother-child. He gives the sweetest kisses at this time, and it's often hard for me to put him in bed and walk away.

Knowing that my heart now lives outside of my body.

July 2008 pics!

2008-08-05T14:43:00.000-07:00

July 2008

2008-05-29T17:10:00.000-07:00

Spring 08 pics

We've been saying for a while now that the blog needs to be updated with new photos. There's time to take the pictures, but posting them is another story! So here's a massive album of our last 2 months, sorry for the overload. Two kids equals many, many picture worthy moments. Just think of all the pictures we decided not to share!

I think we're finally getting into a routine, or maybe we've just adjusted to the madness. Logan and Izzy seemed to have met before and get along amazingly well. Izzy already adores her older brother and watches everything he does. Logan loves to run up and give her kisses and has the sweetest pronunciation of her name. Iiiizzzeee is my closest written approximation. I know we'll have some sibling trouble down the road, but I'm so glad this time is free from any jealousy issues. It's made our transition to a family of four that much easier.

Logan is the sweetest, most empathetic toddler. He loves to give hugs and kisses, shares his food and toys, and is just generally a happy little guy. We get such a kick out of watching him play and spend a lot of time trying to figure out how his mind works. He is truly a toddler now though. He has an opinion about everything and if things aren't done to his satisfaction he will let you know!

Izzy is our mellow baby. She loves to hang out and watch the action, and has recently started to join in on our conversations. She's been smiling for a couple weeks now, but we just can't seem to catch it on camera. Her two month appointment was on Tuesday and she's already 12 lbs, 6 oz and 24 inches long. Our little overachiever rolled over for the first time right in front of the doctor!

So we finally have the hang of being a family of four, and I personally am excited to see what this summer will bring! Hopefully lots of days at the beach.

Izzy's first days

2008-04-11T07:02:00.000-07:00

First days with Izzy

Isabelle Natalie Janson Kaminsky

2008-03-28T19:25:00.001-07:00

This morning, at 10:52 am, Connie and Aaron welcomed their new daughter Isabelle. They are currently recovering at the hospital so a longer post with details will have to wait until they have a bit more energy. :)

Here are a few picture of the morning:

isabelle birth album 1

Logan's first birthday party

2007-11-10T09:15:00.000-08:00

Logan's first birthday party

Logan turns one

2007-11-10T09:14:00.002-08:00

Logan's first birthday

Logan's eleventh month

2007-11-10T09:14:00.001-08:00

Logan's 11th month

Logan's tenth month

2007-11-10T09:12:00.000-08:00

Logan's 10th month

Logan's ninth month

2007-08-30T15:02:00.000-07:00

Logan's ninth month

Coming this March...

2007-08-18T20:06:00.000-07:00

That's right! Logan will be a big brother come March. Our little bean is due around March 30, 2008 and we are so, so, so excited.

Updates!

2007-07-17T21:01:00.001-07:00

What a busy couple of months! I've finally had a chance to update Logan's pictures in between all the weddings, trips, celebrations, parties and just plain hanging out with Logan. Sorry it took so long.

Logan is growing up so fast, he is racing towards toddlerhood and won't let Aaron or I slow him down. What has happened to our baby? Right after he turned nine months old he started army crawling and getting into a seated position. I guess he decided it was time. We think he's been talking for about a month now and can't come to an agreement on whether his first word was dada or dogdog. He sure loves Gambit. It was hard to tell when he went from babbling to labeling, but he looks right at Aaron and says dada. Ditto for the dogdog. I guess mama is always around and not worth labeling. :)

Logan's nine month appointment had him weighing in at 17 pounds 10 ounces. He's 27.5 inches long and meeting every milestone they throw at us. Our normal pediatrician was on her own maternity leave, so we had a substitute. She was great with Logan, and he smiled right at her when she came in at hyperspeed. Pediatricians seem to only run at hyperspeed. He had no shots, but they did draw his blood to test his iron. No problems there, he didn't even cry when they poked him with the needle. Twice. Apparently the blood didn't make it to the lab, so I had to bring him in to the main lab to get it done again.

So Logan crawls, sits, stands, talks, is starting to eat "grown-up food" and explores every environment he enters. He is a wonder to behold! We are just enjoying him so much. But, again, where is our baby going??

Logan's eighth month

2007-07-17T20:58:00.002-07:00

Logan's 8th month

Logan's seventh month

2007-07-17T20:58:00.001-07:00

Logan's 7th month

Fun at Gymboree

2007-05-14T14:44:00.000-07:00

Gymboree

Logan's sixth month

2007-05-07T09:53:00.000-07:00

Logan's 6th month

Swimming!

2007-04-26T10:23:00.000-07:00

Swim class

I will remember

2007-04-17T14:24:00.000-07:00

“This type of thing doesn’t happen in New Zealand.” I read this on a Virginia Tech student’s blog. Some kind soul from New Zealand reached out and expressed their condolences, but at the same time separated their entire country from this tragedy. The world needs to understand that this type of thing doesn’t happen here either. If this type of thing happened here we wouldn’t be so shocked, appalled, devastated. The US does not have all the crazed gunmen in the world, nor even a majority of them. Every country has a similarly sad story to tell. Every single one. We need to be unified in our humanity, now more than ever. Don’t kick us while we’re down.

The most horrific shooting massacre in US history happened yesterday. Will it be the most horrific in 10 years? 20? What will we take away from this? My hope is that we will look at our gun laws, but I don’t seriously think anything will change. We are masters at forgetting after all. This crippling pain we feel right now will dull and eventually dissipate. Except for the students of Virgina Tech, and the family and friends affected by this senseless tragedy. It won’t dissipate for them.

How do I raise my son in this world? How?

He is so little now, but someday I will have to let him go into the world on his own. Will images of Columbine, Virginia Tech fill my mind each day he goes to school? As the death toll climbed on the news yesterday all I could do was hold him and pray that he would remain safe. And I cried.

As with all tragedies there were stories of heroism. One killer and several heroes. That must mean something. Please let it mean something. There are more acts of kindness than acts of senseless violence, and the world still largely balances on the side of good. Right?

Logan's fifth month

2007-04-13T16:19:00.000-07:00

Logan's fifth month

Here come bananas!

2007-04-08T14:03:00.000-07:00

Logan's first food

Six month birthday

2007-04-06T17:31:00.000-07:00

Dear Logan,

You were so much fun today! So many people stopped us to talk to you at Trader Joe's. You were so excited to be at the store and riding in a grocery cart that you couldn't contain your happy shrieks. Grocery shopping was never so fun. The store was a riot of colors and scents that you just soaked up and you enjoyed every second. People saw that and had to stop and just enjoy you. You teach us everyday to stop and enjoy you. I was so proud and happy, and honored to be your mom. Because of you I look at life in a whole different way, no longer concentrating on the fastest, most efficient way to get from point A to B, but stopping and enjoying the journey with you. Thanks, little buddy.

Happy, happy six month birthday. Today wasn't a particularly exciting day, we did what we normally do, but I couldn't stop thinking about how fast this is all going. Before I know it you'll be a toddler, then a little boy constantly on the go. I hope we will always remember to pause and enjoy each other. I promise to never be too busy for a hug or a cuddle, and you better promise to never stop wanting them. Holding you is one of the best things I know. I know you like it too, from the satisfied little sigh you let out when I hug you. How amazing is it, that our connection is so strong we can feel better from a simple touch? You are an amazing little baby, and I can't wait to see the little boy you will be. But don't show me too quickly, okay?

Love,
your momma

adventures of a teething baby

2007-04-03T10:52:00.000-07:00

Logan is still teething like mad, his night sleeping skills have deteriorated and we are so tired! Hopefully the little buggers will come through soon and we can all get some sleep. He drools, mouths anything in reach, and has a rash on his chest from all the moisture. Lovely. Our pediatrician said that teething can last months, so who know's when they will push through. I whined to Aaron the other day "but it's already been months!" He rolled his eyes at me, but wisely said nothing.

Logan is rolling front to back and getting about halfway over when he tries back to front. I'm convinced he can do it, but there's not a big enough incentive for him to go all the way yet. No crawling yet, but he can sit on his own for about a minute before he gets bored and launches himself backwards. It's amazing how quickly a new skill will emerge. One day he doesn't do it, the next he's a pro.

He is crazy good with his hands, though. He can pass objects from one hand to another, unerringly reach for and grab something he drops and tries to take everything out of our hands. If mommy and daddy want it, it must be really good. Which is why he spends minutes happily playing with my Rosebud Salve. I am so addicted to the stuff that I'm worried I'm setting a bad example for him. Most kids get attached to blankies and teddy bears, Logan's falling for my lip balm.

He'll be six months old on Friday, how time is flying!

Mayo Queen

2007-04-02T10:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I made mayonnaise. We were making BLT’s, which require mayo, and the mayo in our fridge is as old as Elizabeth Taylor. So after much sniffing I threw it out. Instead of heading to the store and buying more, I looked up a recipe. It looked pretty easy, so I put together the ingredients and started beating oil into the mixture. After a false start and the replacement of a whisk with an electric mixer, we had a cup of fresh mayonnaise. It tasted fantastic, the BLT’s were legendary, and we went on with our afternoon secure in the knowledge that in a crisis I can produce mayo.

Why is this important? Well it’s not really, but it signifies a shift in my thought processes. Instead of heading to the store to buy way too much mayo (we hardly eat the stuff), I used a little thought and ingredients on hand to solve the crisis. We have a budget, you see, one we are actually adhering to, and unnecessary expenses destroy said budget rather quickly. It’s nice to know that buying a jar of mayo is now on the list of unnecessary expenses. It’s the little things that add up in a big way. House, I can see you, you’re not getting away this time.

2007-04-01T19:34:00.000-07:00

My baby just got frightened by the power of his own ass. I wish that was an April Fools Day post. I really, really do.

2007-03-21T14:38:00.000-07:00

Check out that hair!

Logan gets a haircut

2007-03-02T15:16:00.000-08:00

Logan's fourth month!

Logan's fourth month

2007-03-02T14:38:00.000-08:00

I am in love! Logan is such a charmer, so sweet and crazy and interactive and MUCH EASIER TO HANDLE!!! I am not kidding, I feel like I’ve been handed a new, improved version of my baby. Gone are the inexplicable crying fits. Gone are the all day long fuss sessions. Gone, gone, gone! Don’t get me wrong, I loved my little stinker and wouldn’t have traded him for anything. But if the nurses at the hospital could have handed out a most time consuming baby award, they would have given it to us. And that’s saying something.

At four months Logan had the following stats: 13 lb, 14 oz (27th percentile), 25 1/4 inches long (59th percentile), and his head circumference was 42 cm (40th percentile). We were so worried for a few minutes because he's been steadily dropping percentiles. He started at 75th for weight, went down to around the 50th, and now is at the 27th percentile. Our doctor is a total rock star, and alleviated our fears. She asked a whole bunch of questions about his activity level, watched him on the table, and then gave us the news that explained everything. We have a precocious baby. Alarmed, we stared down at his kicking, squealing, squirming body.

According to the doctor, most 4 month olds still just lie there like a newborn. Apparently we have a baby who's more interested in learning new skills than in eating, and he's developmentally a 6 month old. Baby growth typically slows down around 6 months because of all the extra activity and calories they're burning. He's just hitting these milestones early, and therefore isn't as interested in food. Overachiever.

Logan’s become quite the talker in the last month. He moans when in need of attention. It gets increasingly desperate sounding and reverberates throughout the entire house. I think it’s adorable, except when I’m trying to pee. When he’s super excited he squeals and screams, and he often joins in on our conversations and sings along with his favorite songs. His new thing is standing. He wants to stand all the time. I mean ALL the time. It’s awesome. He does this drunken wiggle while standing because he doesn’t have the balance thing down yet, but his weight is fully supported by his legs. We used to practice sitting, but he’s moved on to bigger and better things. Now sitting is only for the weak and tired.

I read that babies practice one skill over and over until they master it, then forget all about it and move on to the next thing. It’s true, he used to roll over and sit and scootch on his back. Now that he’s working on standing he completely ignores these other skills. I hope he’ll remember how to do them; otherwise we’re in for a repetitive cycle of learning skills he already mastered and forgot.

Not too long ago Aaron and I were desperate for sleep. Logan was still getting up 4 times a night and we were starting to feel like he would never sleep through the night. He was unable to put himself back to sleep if he woke up. We did all the “right” things from the beginning: put him to sleep awake but drowsy, don’t nurse or rock him to sleep on a regular basis, and create a bedtime routine and stick to it. Naively I thought this meant he would sleep through the night at roughly 3 months old. Ha. First, sleep through the night is defined as 6 hours of continuous sleep. I don’t know anyone who considers a six hour stretch as sleeping through the night. Sure, Logan could go to bed at 7 and wake up at 1 and technically be sleeping through the night. Sorry, I define sleeping through the night as me getting 8 hours of sleep. Ambitious, but true. Second, when has any baby ever done what they’re supposed to? Why did I even think that mine would? I am throwing all the “supposed to’s” out the window. They are useless and only make me feel bad about my parenting abilities and my baby.

There is a happy ending to this story, though. Logan is settling down into a consistent sleep routine. One nap in the morning, one in the evening, in bed by 8, up once during the night to feed, usually between 1 and 3, and up around 7 for the day. This is so much better. We still need to get a consistent bedtime down, but I am not complaining. Curiously, this improved sleep pattern coincided with moving Logan into his nursery. He’s been sleeping in a cradle in our room and we finally decided it was time to move him. I think he’s sleeping better now that he doesn’t have to listen to us make noise all night long. And we’re happy to watch TV in bed again.

In other news, we had to take Logan to the pediatrician after hours office yesterday. He has this rash on the bottom part of his face and neck that just started bleeding last night, so I called the office and they wanted me to bring him in. The on-call doctor said it wasn’t anything serious, most likely sensitive skin that got irritated and inflamed. We have to put hydrocortisone cream on the rash until it clears up and we’re experimenting with different soaps to find one that doesn’t irritate his skin. Poor little guy.

He’ll be five months old next week. Time is flying and before we know it he’ll be seriously on the move. How many calories does one burn chasing after a baby?

2007-02-01T21:49:00.000-08:00

2007-01-29T21:29:00.000-08:00

Hi there! Logan has grown so much in the past few months, and we've fallen behind on sending out pictures. Sorry about that everyone, I promise we'll do better in the future!

It was exciting to experience the holidays as a family of three. Christmas was definitely full of new traditions - it was the first time in years I was up at 6:30 on Christmas morning. We also had to pause for the 9 am nap, which I think we'll try to do again next year. Yeah right...

Next week Logan has his 4 month appointment and we'll find out how much he weighs and his height. He'll also get his next round of shots, which judging from the last round will make me cry more than he did. At his 2 month appointment he weighed 11 pounds, 13 ounces and was 23 3/4 inches tall. My rough estimate for his current weight is between 13.5 and 14 pounds and a wiggly 25 inches. It'll be interesting to see how far off my measurements are. Any bets?

We have a strong little boy on our hands. He's been holding his head up for months, can support his weight on his legs for short periods of time, rolls front to back and is half way to rolling back to front. He is so interactive now, smiling and "talking" to his toys, the dog, us... His favorite song is "If you're happy and you know it", we only have to sing the first couple lines to elicit a huge grin.

I knew he would grow quick, but I'm still amazed by the significant changes from one week to the next. I guess what I'm trying to remember right now is to enjoy who he is right now and to not worry about what's ahead or what developmental milestone he hasn't hit yet. He is perfect and is exactly where he should be.

2007-01-19T20:27:00.000-08:00

Here are links to the three image galleries we have published so far. Logan continues to amaze us with all the changes he undergoes.

Logan 3

Logan's first month

Logan's Birthday