Bug, Bean, and Me

Yesterday

2012-02-07T08:34:00.000-06:00

When I was younger, I lived in a different world. I was fearless in a young kind of way. I was broke, and I didn't really care. I loved falling in love. I enjoyed wallowing in the turmoil of relationships ending. It resulted in beautiful art and poetry. I have always been intense, but it was completely unbridled back then, like some kind of wild horse. I was moving toward someplace, being in school, but the rest of my time was playing in bands, eating, drinking, and breathing music, and making art and writing in my journal. Time has tamed that, and age too. I have grown up, and find that not struggling the way I use to puts a damper on my direct line to untapped creativity.

I am meditating on that because last night I went to see Neutral Milk Hotel. I played on their second album what seems like an eternity ago (it was, in fact, almost 15 years ago). It was a spectacle because no one has heard from Jeff in many years and he hasn't toured before now since 1998. There is so much speculation as to why, and he packed up and decided to leave the whole scene after releasing a game-changing album. I hear Jeff in lots of other bands, like the Decemberists, who seems to have been wildly influenced by him. In 1997 my band toured with them (oh, what fun that was!) and another band and during that tour Jeff asked me to play uilleann pipes on the new album. A couple of months later, he flew me in to record in Denver. I stayed a week and a half or so, and it was intense and wonderful to be with this collective bunch of beautiful artists. We stayed with the Apples in Stereo-Robert and Hillary-and recorded in a studio in an industrial part of the city. We played a show one night. I was happy to be part of all that. But I also knew that for all the way we glorify bands and the beauty they give us, sleeping in a different bed every night, eating shitty food, and drinking too much wears on your after a while. And how you give and give and give. That wears on you too. But when you're young, it's an adventure.

After the show last night Laura (Elf Power) was standing out in the lobby, and I decided to say hello. After placing me in her ancient history files, she enveloped me as a very old friend and asked if Jeff knew I was here. I told her I didn't think so, so she grabbed my hand and took me backstage. He is the same as always. He didn't have a nervous breakdown like they said. I never believed that anyway. It was so excellent to see him, and although we didn't have much time to catch up we shared a little. He said he's always wondered what happened to me; he asked me what I've been up to, and I said "I vaporized into thin air" and he laughed and said "me too". During the show, some rude self-serving attendee shouted "where have you been?" and he answered "with the love of my life-I don't know, that's enough for me". We talked about what he's been up to (not for me to disclose-ask him yourself) and his plans (which, sorry to say, don't include more music tours) and my girls. and poetry. I told him I was glad he found the love of his life. I met his sister-in-law. He gave me his number in case I'm ever in NYC. I talked to Scott, who is a beautiful musician in his own right, too. Scott has a photo of his little girl taped to his guitar.

So, we all moved on. Laura said none of them do this much anymore, so I'm not the only one. Even the people revered for changing music forever have found other things to be passionate about. It's the natural progression of things. My thing (environmental health) is more stabilizing than music ever was, and I don't even have to bleed for people to get paid. I reckon that is what happened to all of us. That price is pretty high to offer yourself up night after night to entertain people. I look back at my young self all vibrant and beautiful and I have a moment of longing for all those fresh raw moments that shaped the rest of my life. But I wouldn't go back there if it would change the trajectory of my life and take away my babies. Not for all the fame on the planet and a million dollars.

Value

2012-02-06T15:27:00.000-06:00

One of this kids in Gillian's school died this morning of brain cancer. He was in second grade. He struggled for a year with it until it swallowed him up whole at 6:45 this morning. She had come home last week with a little star attached to her dress button that said "pray for Jake", and we all prayed for Jake, and now he's gone home. That was the answer for that little baby soul. The one God sent here as a sacrifice to teach the rest of us all something about love-what you love, how you love it...why not to take for granted the things you love will always hang around waiting for you to figure out how to express your love.

These lessons are a little hard on people. I know a few things about losing people I love-they're all dead now except my gypsy sister. All I could say this morning when I collapsed into Sean was something about how people can forgive God for being selfish enough to take that baby back when he hadn't given all the joy back he could have given. That's such a human thing to say. It's born of grief-the grief I feel for his mother who has been fearing this day since he was diagnosed...who has prayed by his bedside for moments and days and months...who only wanted to watch him grow up to be a virile young man with his own joyful family. I felt that grief for a second, hearing the story about how he sweetly smiled in his last moments and how he was given last rites by Father Grassi. How no parent on this wide green earth should ever have to ask for someone to give their baby his last rites. But how beautifully he took them. How wise he was, glimpsing over the edge. The they said to him was "heaven is beautiful, and it's ok to go home." How his mother informed the school that "Jake earned his wings peacefully this morning."

I'm thinking about how we get tangled up with this place when it's a blink. We make castles in the sand. We build them up, these monuments of humanness, and they wash away in the ebb and flow of eternity. We are each a grain of sand, nothing more...but so beloved by the sea that our constructs fail the will of the lapping waves, and away we go. They say everafter is beautiful, and peaceful, and so.familiar. So his little grain was enveloped to be joined with everything that has ever been or ever will be--in the tapestry of peace that is the universe. Godspeed, peanut.

And so it begins...

2012-01-25T13:01:00.000-06:00

I love company when I'm heading to the bathroom. I guess we all do. Addie is taking more of an interest in the potty, as is Hauk. Hauk has a frog potty, and Addie was sad she didn't, so I drew a bear on the front of hers (since lately she says she is a bear) and she helped color it. Addie now announces she is peeing in her diaper or that she has to poop. And she tells me to beat it when she has to poop, because clearly it requires concentration, and she doesn't need any distractions (thank you very much). This last bit was Gillian in the two months preceding potty training. She'd say-"I have to go potty. Mama go 'way."

Addie has some cloth pullups, and she wears them sometimes. We need to commit to this, but our lazy approach worked like a charm the last time. So, I am telling you-she is starting down the road to full blown toddlerdom, and her baby self if fading into the shadows-which makes me feel fatalistic about all of it. I sold our cloth diapers to a woman last night. And it was hard and made me want to cry, because if things were different, we could probably have that third baby. But it's expensive here, and our closest family is 1000 miles away. And that's the reality. *sigh*

Life in technicolor

2012-01-24T22:50:00.000-06:00

I love this girl.... ♥

This.

2012-01-18T13:32:00.001-06:00

Every now and then, I read something on parenting that makes me want to weep and laugh and sing "Amen, SING IT!". So, an article has been sweeping through my friends that did just that. I am pasting it below, but it originally appeared in the Huffington Post (by Glennon Melton, called "Don't Carpe Diem"). Melton muses that the struggle is the norm in parenting and bliss intermittently intrudes in the struggling to make the trip worthwhile.

I love her distinction between the duality of monotony of the grind and the transformational timelessness of being fully present, and fully grateful. I love this quote: "Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos."

It's funny how timely this article is. I was just talking to A&R about how mind-numbingly exhausting it can be, this parenting thing. And how NO ONE talks about it. And how if you talk about it, you feel like you are whining and that we really are only allowed to suffer in silence because everyone else makes raising children look like a cakewalk. And you might think "Jesus, I am alone here...I am clearly not doing this right or it would be less painful/exhausting". But truly, every single one of us has different challenges. I have never sugar coated here or sitting with friends what it has been to parent my girls, because I can't imagine being a person that makes someone else question their own skills by pretending everything is kittens and sunshine every second around here. Some days have more glitter that than others, but I totally get the idea that those Kairos moments pull us out of the haze that repetition and person-building can put a parent in.

So, we all want to cry some days. We all want to strangle our children when they keep laying down on the filthy, snow tracked wet, salty floor at the grocery store because you won't let them have something they want and don't need. We all have days like last Saturday when I was looking for my rental car keys for over 2 hours and collapsed into a stressed heap because our car was ready for pick up at the body shop and the rental car had to go back by noon or wait 3 days to return it (holiday) and it would cost something like $700 to replace the key....and then I asked Gillian "can you help me find it?" and she went right over to the cabinet and pulled them out from behind the DVD player. She put them there to "keep Addie from getting them"...I won't even consider that she did that on purpose because she wanted to go sledding too, but we were looking for 2+ hours, and Sean was mad at me for misplacing them, and I was defensive because I knew it wasn't my fault....or the times when the fighting and whining and back talk result in half the day in time out. I swear it is beyond the pale to create and reinforce the boundaries every single second of every single day. But we soldier on.

I want to hug all of you raising babies, because it sure sucks sometimes. And we ALWAYS feel like we have to qualify it with "but I would do it all again" or "but I wouldn't change it for the world" lest anyone think we could ever resent our little angels, even for a second. It's a tricky balance to do all this and not lose your soul. I hope I never tell someone the obvious-that their parenting the young ones is a blink in the grand scheme of life-and that they should enjoy it. Because DUH. And every comment like that reminds me of when asked about Gillian's traumatic entry into the world and I would try to share the pain of my birth experience, people would insensitively observe, "well, you have a healthy baby, and you are OK, so WIN-WIN! (stop bitching, you are fine! who cares what your vision of entering a completely new phase of life looked like!!!). It completely marginalizes your human experience into one self-righteous, smug little comment. Well, at the end of the day, and the end of my life, what I will remember about parenting are moments. All strung together into something I can wrap myself in to stay warm when I need warmth. To remember what the whole point was of all of this.

I like what Glennon said she will say to young mothers when she is the old lady at the grocery store:
"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."

Amen. Toast and lift eachother up. And celebrate this person-making/cultivating thing. The single most important job of all. After all-that person you laid the foundation for with your blood, sweat, and tears could change the whole world.

******************************************************************************
Don't Carpe Diem (Glennon Melton)
Every time I'm out with my kids -- this seems to happen:
An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says something like, "Oh, Enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast."

Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, raise my awareness, be happy, enjoy every second, etc, etc, etc.

I know that this message is right and good. But, I have finally allowed myself to admit that it just doesn't work for me. It bugs me. This CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky. Especially during this phase of my life - while I'm raising young kids. Being told, in a million different ways to CARPE DIEM makes me worry that if I'm not in a constant state of intense gratitude and ecstasy, I'm doing something wrong.

I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.

And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers -- "ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T!" TRUST US!! IT'LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!" -- those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.

Now. I'm not suggesting that the sweet old ladies who tell me to ENJOY MYSELF be thrown from a mountain. These are wonderful ladies. Monkees, probably. But last week, a woman approached me in the Target line and said the following: "Sugar, I hope you are enjoying this. I loved every single second of parenting my two girls. Every single moment. These days go by so fast."

At that particular moment, Amma had arranged one of the new bras I was buying on top of her sweater and was sucking a lollipop that she must have found on the ground. She also had three shop-lifted clip-on neon feathers stuck in her hair. She looked exactly like a contestant from Toddlers and Tiaras. I couldn't find Chase anywhere, and Tish was grabbing the pen on the credit card swiper thing WHILE the woman in front of me was trying to use it. And so I just looked at the woman, smiled and said, "Thank you. Yes. Me too. I am enjoying every single moment. Especially this one. Yes. Thank you."

That's not exactly what I wanted to say, though.

There was a famous writer who, when asked if he loved writing, replied, "No. but I love having written." What I wanted to say to this sweet woman was, "Are you sure? Are you sure you don't mean you love having parented?"

I love having written. And I love having parented. My favorite part of each day is when the kids are put to sleep (to bed) and Craig and I sink into the couch to watch some quality TV, like Celebrity Wife Swap, and congratulate each other on a job well done. Or a job done, at least.

Every time I write a post like this, I get emails suggesting that I'm being negative. I have received this particular message four or five times -- G, if you can't handle the three you have, why do you want a fourth?

That one always stings, and I don't think it's quite fair. Parenting is hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the second a mother admits that it's hard, people feel the need to suggest that maybe she's not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn't add more to her load. Maybe the fact that it's so hard means she IS doing it right...in her own way...and she happens to be honest.

Craig is a software salesman. It's a hard job in this economy. And he comes home each day and talks a little bit about how hard it is. And I don't ever feel the need to suggest that he's not doing it right, or that he's negative for noticing that it's hard, or that maybe he shouldn't even consider taking on more responsibility. And I doubt anybody comes by his office to make sure he's ENJOYING HIMSELF. I doubt his boss peeks in his office and says: "This career stuff...it goes by so fast...ARE YOU ENJOYING EVERY MOMENT IN THERE, CRAIG???? CARPE DIEM, CRAIG!"

My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and the kids would be gone, and I'd be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No.

But the fact remains that I will be that nostalgic lady. I just hope to be one with a clear memory. And here's what I hope to say to the younger mama gritting her teeth in line:

"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."

Anyway. Clearly, Carpe Diem doesn't work for me. I can't even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.

Here's what does work for me:
There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It's regular time, it's one minute at a time, it's staring down the clock till bedtime time, it's ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it's four screaming minutes in time out time, it's two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.

Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos.

Like when I'm stuck in chronos time in the grocery line and I'm haggard and annoyed and angry at the slow check-out clerk. And then I look at my cart and I'm transported out of chronos. And suddenly I notice the piles and piles of healthy food I'll feed my children to grow their bodies and minds and I remember that most of the world's mamas would kill for this opportunity. This chance to stand in a grocery line with enough money to pay. And I just stare at my cart. At the abundance. The bounty. Thank you, God. Kairos.

Or when I curl up in my cozy bed with Theo asleep at my feet and Craig asleep by my side and I listen to them both breathing. And for a moment, I think- how did a girl like me get so lucky? To go to bed each night surrounded by this breath, this love, this peace, this warmth? Kairos.

These kairos moments leave as fast as they come- but I mark them. I say the word kairos in my head each time I leave chronos. And at the end of the day, I don't remember exactly what my kairos moments were, but I remember I had them. And that makes the pain of the daily parenting climb worth it.

If I had a couple Kairos moments during the day, I call it a success.

Carpe a couple of Kairoses a day.

Good enough for me.

Around the house

2012-01-12T21:05:00.000-06:00

It's sooooo cozy with the snow coming down and the fireplace going and two little angels sleeping soundly in their little beds. I see snowmen and sledding in our future, but for tonight a couple more videos, since I made a major dent in my 2 year backlog over the weekend.

So, here's what a casual lunch conversation is like with Addie:

And here's how Gillian is doing on piano. She's reading music decently well after a year of lessons. Did I mention she begs to practice? Seriously. And they both LOVE broccoli. I guess I deserve a break every now and then!

Gratitude

2012-01-12T09:02:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I was sitting in music class with Adelaide, watching her twirl in the shower of bubbles and dance to the teacher's music and run joyfully around the room, her little curly ponytails bobbing with pristine innocence. I was struck by her purity, like lightening hit me. And I got teary, because parenting my Adelaide is probably the last time I will revel in the sweetness that is having a two year old. I just couldn't stop being grateful for this precious little girl God gave me.

This is my favorite age...because we can talk, and the abstract ways she is putting the universe together delights me and she is so simple and logical still in her thinking. She isn't manipulative, or conniving, or consciously selfish. She is pure emotion. Those days for Gillian are long gone, and though I love love love her, I miss her 2 year old self that was so completely unfiltered by her own desires.

When Addie feels overcome with emotion, she throws her little arms around my neck and tells me she loves me. Lately, she's been throwing in "you're beautiful" after "I love you SO much" for good measure. If that doesn't humble a person... and her sweet little kisses with the "mmmmmmmmmmm-mwa!" are the best, even if those wet little kisses make me sick constantly. If she doesn't have a good word for something, she makes one up. Like Cecegon ("what's a cecegon?", "it's a cecegon!"). She loves the simplicity of things and appreciates kindness. She is completely wide open, the way we all should be. The way we all were before we got our hearts broken or were disappointed over and over again or realized that people can be unkind. If we could keep holding on to that sense that love underlies the whole world, and that loving people can make anything better-well, then it would be a perfect world. She's just closer to the source, and because of that she is infinitely wise. Ironic how we all spend our entire lives trying and preparing to get back where we started.

Ahhhh.....Music

2012-01-07T23:35:00.002-06:00

Music is very very important in this house, as those of you who know us personally are aware. I credit it with saving me from my white trash fate (completely) and I started playing classical saxophone at age 12. I got a music scholarship and went to USF with a major in music performance. I went on to perform on a couple of influential indie albums and am now happy to back Sean up on guitar or banjo when I have the time to learn a tune (which, sadly, is almost never, but I have high hopes for the fall, when I will always have an entire day to myself every week!!!). Sean started playing classical guitar at age 12 and now plays just about everything you can imagine and has become a semi-expert on Irish, Cajun, Old Time, and Bluegrass music. And he makes violin-family stringed instruments. So, the girls will always play something beautiful.

Addie started a movement and music class last January called Wiggleworms. Gillian started piano a year ago last January with her school music teacher, which has gone swimmingly. She started learning the suzuki violin method at the Music Institute of Chicago in September. So we are cultivating the ability to learn to read music (piano) and to develop her ear and technique bowing (violin). The Suzuki program is a very classical, very regimented program at MIC. Gillian has 2 lessons a week-one group, one private. It costs a small fortune, but it is really important to us, so we make it a priority. She started in a "sampler" class with a very strict, very pretty young teacher that was not impressed by Gillian's initial obnoxious efforts to get her attention. She is the absolute perfect compliment to Gillian's personality, and her matter-of-factness and her ability to remain separate from but supportive of our child made us choose her to be Gillian's private instructor.

Gillian started the sampler class with a cardboard wheat thins box that we were to decorate. So, we did, in all it's hot-pink-with-heart-stickers glory (the teacher noted that the "f-holes" were remarkably professional-looking for a 5 year old (thanks, violin-maker papa!):

She worked with this box-proper posture, proper handling, proper care-for 7 weeks, and picked up a real instrument the last week of the class. She had to EARN the right to pick up a real instrument. By that time she was dying to. She picked up with the two-class schedule in November. So far it has been excellent. Here are a couple of recent videos, which Sean recorded for his own benefit to know how to help Gillian learn. One thing is sure-this is as much work (if not more) for Sean as it is for Gillian. He learns the piano accompaniment to help her practice. She practices music (piano or violin or both) every day, for about 10-15 minutes. And she's doing great!

Addie will probably start at MIC in the same program when she's 4. By then she will have been in music classes for 2.5 years, and should be ready (I didn't do a continuous program with her as I have done with Addie). We are considering having Gillian give cello a try given her height, but for now we are sticking with the current routine. I hope the future prodigious Gillian looks back on these first baby steps with some amount of sweetness-because we are here, at the beginning of her gift. How wonderful to be able to watch her refine and expand it!

Random Things Seem to Happen Around Here

2012-01-05T19:28:00.000-06:00

About a week ago, we noticed this guy sleeping next to our front door, somehow (hanging from his toenails?) attached to the brick facade of our building. We humored the idea that maybe he was sleeping and tried to keep our animal-infatuated Addie from trying to put him in her pocket. Well, because bats aren't all cute and fuzzy with their rabies and lice (this was a delicate conversation..didn't want to burst the girls' collective bubbles or anything, but also didn't want them to turn into zombies after getting bitten by this thing and traumatized for life), we had or reservations.

Because, this is the Mr. Hyde version.

Photo from: http://www.wildernessclassroom.com/www/schoolhouse/rainforest_library/animal_library/bat.htm
So, this spawned an entire three day marathon of you tube bat watching and bat antics around here like this one:

After three days, I got close enough to look and see if our bat was breathing...I didn't see evidence of living, then I blew on him and he sighed, so we knew he was alive. Sean was worried about a dog getting bitten by him, so he called animal control. Animal control trapped him and he was hissing in the container like Mr. Hyde. Gillian asked what they were going to do with him. I told her they were taking him back to his mama and papa because he got lost. Didn't feel like explaining why he was really going to buy the proverbial farm.

This episode was almost as weird as trying to explain why that squirrel ate her babies.

2011 in Review

2012-01-01T10:15:00.001-06:00

This is pre-dated to January 1, which is when I intended to write my ruminations on the past year. And when you have kids, every year is one of monumental change and accomplishments. Changes are seen and unseen. Growth is external and internal. The school of this life makes us eternal students, and at the same time, eachother's teachers. Lao Tzu said "what is a good man but a bad man's teacher? what is a bad man but a good man's job?" Not that anyone is good or bad. We all have the same drop of divinity inside us; we all hail from the great beyond. It's like Gillian once said to me of a kid at school "he's not a bad boy, Mama, he just does bad things." We become what we are to teach and learn with one another in this blink of a life.

This year, like every year, I have been humbled by my children who are my greatest teachers. They remind me that we live in a beautiful world. They remind me that some qualities-those of joy and wonder, for example-are our natural state of being, and that the influences of the world also bring heartbreak and shame. Heartbreak and shame are necessary, because they give us context for our joy and shape our morality. Circumstances give opportunity for growth and learning, too. At this very moment, God is driving me back into myself for peace. Sometimes in our fear and our suffering, we have to learn to sit with our discomfort, to make peace with it. I am still struggling with a (work) situation in my life because I have not accepted it. Some days are better than others sitting with it, but truthfully, I have not found peace. Ironically, this has been one of the greatest challenges of my life because it lacks definition. I have lost close family to cancer and heart disease, I have survived childhood abuse, I have managed to come from poverty to a place of relative comfort...but this trumps them all because I don't understand why it happened. And compared to all those things, it is so small. But here I am, another year later, and I am still not there yet. Recently, I also have lost a good friend for reasons I don't fully understand. So, it's time to do some internal work to learn to let go and let things be what they are without forcing.

My resolve this year is to not let emotional and physical distractions remove my experience from being fully present with my family, but even more importantly, with myself. I want to walk out of my office every day and not think about it again until I arrive for the next work day. I want to spend less time with technology, and more time digging into my role playing Princess. I want to get off the internet and read more novels. I want to simplify my existence. I mean, to be clear, I waste time almost exclusively when the girls are sleeping or watching a show. But, I have this nagging feeling that wasting any time at all is absurd when there is so much life to live! I want to make a point of meditating twice a day, every day, to touch base with me, and to make time for yoga regularly. I am not nearly as bad about being with the kids as I feel, and Sean always kindof snorts when I'm hard on myself about not spending enough quality time with them and says, "you spend every second of your life with the kids! what are you talking about!?!" Because, you see, I married an unintentional Buddhist. Sean has this laser view of the world, and doesn't let emotion reign his view. He knows one great hour with the kids is better than eight mediocre ones in the grand scheme of their overall contentedness and memory. And he is OK with that. He takes that vital time for himself that I don't to recharge. He doesn't work as hard as I do to make EVERY hour one for posterity. Maybe my inherent overachievement pushes me to conform to some unattainable mother ideal that I have no hope of ever achieving. So, I suppose it's time to learn to be ok with what I am capable of being with who and what I am.

I found this website, and it is a beautiful showcase of the experience of being a Woman. I love the ruminations of so many sisters, in so many walks on Earth, and it helps me frame my desire to cultivate love for myself and others. Truly. And I am reminded of the importance of patience and gentleness with ones self. And how we are all doing the best we can, every second of every day. And, as as Don Miguel Ruiz said, "Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering." See, I am the Queen of Needless Suffering (Ironically, once I painted what I know now is a self portrait of the "Much Pained Princess" at the ripe old age of 22). I assume every unkindness people do is somehow my fault. Probably the jacked up world view I got as a result of growing up in a verbally and physically abusive home. It's hard to change that paradigm. So, never being good enough leads to overachievement, hoping against hope that one day what I say, what I do, and what I dream will be good enough for myself. That maybe one day I will learn to be ok with me.
I care because, truly, if we're lucky we have about 70 good years on this Earth. One of my favorite Rumi quotes is:
"But, listen to me for one moment-quit being sad...hear blessings dropping their blossoms around you. God."

Life is what it's all about. Preoccupation distracts us from being fully present. Preoccupation is a cancer. Self doubt and worry leads to the preoccupation that separates us from God and ourselves. I will do my best to spend my time and energy with people who know my truth enough to love me in spite of my shortcomings, who can forgive me, and who lift me up, and have compassion for those who can't or don't. I'll spend my time and energy with those who I love unconditionally, and who love me unconditionally. Love is all there really is that's worth talking about.

So, without further adieu, let me showcase a few of our moments of 2011. These moments transform us. They make a life. My life. Their lives.

Addie started the year as a baby, and she ended the year as a little girl. I have the priviledge of raising these children, and that blessing is not lost on me:

Picture of us at her Wiggleworms music class, which we started in January, and which we love doing every Wednesday morning together:

Gillian's first time ice skating with her best bud, Frances, and after which the Big Girls got to have a late date with their mamas, no baby sisters allowed!:

The great blizzard of 2011! Third highest snowfall in a day in Chicago recorded history!!:

Wake up call: Squamous Cell Carcinoma diagnosed and excised:

Spring came, after a long, cold, and snowy winter:

And I took my first not-for-work, just-for-me trip to NYC with one of my closest friends. It was good for the soul and I came home to a perfect birthday celebration with my family:

Then came Easter, and Addie was big enough to understand the Easter egg hunt. They were so excited and so happy to put on their pretty dresses (compliments of Nonni) and search for hidden treasure!

To have a little fun with the Royal Wedding, we had a Princess Party with Francie and Megan. The girls dressed up, we made a brunch fit for a princess, and watched the wedding. Their favorite part was the dress:

Gillian's second ballet recital:

Addie and Hauk continued their love affair into a second year:

We had a WONDERFUL vacation week with Bill and Suzi at Fernandina Beach/Amelia Island:

We said goodbye to Miriam Davis Colledge, Sean's beautiful Grandmother and Addie's namesake (her middle name is Miriam-see my June entry about this vacation to read about the significance of the flower):

We loved our visits with the girls' fabulous grandparents throughout the year. We often think that Florida is too far away!:

Gillian's cousin Jim taught her to fish for the first time:

We had such a warm, amazing summer that we spent countless hours outside at the playground and at the beach:

Our good friend Joe took some beautiful photos of me and the girls:

My big girl turned TWO! She didn't know what to think of having the limelight all to herself!:

Lots of love, of course, was present in 2011:

Papa took Gillian to her first Cubs game!

Gillian reminded me of our inherent joy; the natural state of being, often:

This title is "Gillian is full of AWESOME!":

We did a little naked drumming:

Gillian spent her longest time away from us, ever. She spent 11 days in Florida with her grandparents. When Sean went to pick her up, I had a mama slumber party with 5 of my closest girlfriends. What a wonderful night of recharging the batteries. And Addie slept through the boistrous laughter and chatter like a champ:

While Gillian was gone, I made her bedroom my pallette. It turned out great!:

Also, while she was gone, Addie got to see what being an only child is like. She loved it!:

We said goodbye to Angie, who worked for us for a year and a half:

We enjoyed the city:

We swam and spent many dusks at the beach, soaking it all in:

...with beautiful friends...

Addie-so small, but larger than life to me...:

Gillian got to go to "her favorite place in the WHOLE WORLD" with her closest friends for her birthday (AJ didn't want to leave; he is not dying here ;-)):

and she had a birthday party with her school friends at Berger Park, on a beautiful fall day:

I travelled to St. Croix for a work week, and enjoyed the beauty...and missed my family:

Addie finally has enough hair for pony tails!

Gillian started Suzuki violin lessons. She had to decorate a box (my goodness, it was flamboyant! (of course)) to learn to hold it before even picking up a real instrument. By the end of 2011 she was successfully plucking and bowing it:

We did our annual trip to the apple orchard...which also had hay rides, a pumpkin patch, pony rides, and a petting zoo. It was traumatic to rip Addie away from the animals, and she was asleep within 5 minutes of getting in the car to go home:

First pony ride:

First petting zoo (she was totally in love!):

Addie's first time playing in Fall leaves!:

First pumpkin painting:

A luxurious hour long pony ride. We'll be back there again!:

Supergirl and kitty for Halloween:

Thanksgiving took us to Florida to be with family, and we decided to tack on Gillian's first trip to Disney World. We left Addie with the grandparents, and Gillian had us all to herself for two solid days:

We spent the rest of our Thanksgiving at this beautiful place, enoying being with our family:

The girls had a blast with our first snowfall in a very warm winter (so far...jinx!?):

All in all, a very blessed year...

Ya

2011-12-30T22:34:00.000-06:00

Addie came in my room like a ninja this morning at 6:13 am. Through my not-really-asleep-but-peeking through-on-eye-slit I was her start pretending she was eating me with her hand and made a "ra-ra-ra" sound. When I didn't acknowledge her (I hoped that magically, she would get bored and go back to her room and fall asleep like a docile little lamb. BWAHAHAHAHAHA).

The she said: "Mama...I'm gonna SPANK you!" (she clearly had no idea what spank means, since she started pinching me)...."I'M GROUCHY". Then, noticing my lack of response and for good measure, she threw in: "I'M A WIZARD".

My grouchy wizard who likes to spank people. Wow is she going to be mad when we start giving the pacifier the boot.

Thanksgiving

2011-12-12T12:21:00.000-06:00

I have been terribly remiss in not posting about our fantastic trip down south for the Thanksgiving holiday. It was momentous-we rolled in a first trip to Disneyworld for Gillian at the front end. So, this would be my trip theme pic...

I was probably 3 or 4 when I went to Disneyworld the first time. But when you grow up in Florida, it's kindof what you do. Most people I know that grew up there had probably been 10-20 times by the time they went to college, the culminating trip being Grad Night (high school seniors only in the entire park, which they still do).

So, I'll start at the beginning. I wanted to really do this trip right. I heard in order to do the Princess lunch (where the kids meet 5 princesses) you had to book 180 days in advance. Like, exactly 6 months before the date of your trip. Because the appointments vaporize like dry ice or something. So, I got myself up at 4:50 am on a Wednesday morning (my magic 180-day mark) and kept refreshing the "Princess Lunch" page on disneyreservations.com or whatever until 5 am hit (apparently the website allows bookings 1 hour before the call center, and it opened at 6 am eastern time). I was able to get the lunch slot, exactly what we wanted. I was also able to book her for her Bippidi Boppidi Boutique appointment that same morning, early, so she would be princessed out all day from the beginning. I know-disgusting to encourage her with princessness with how some of the femininsts are hating on the princess thing...this was the one and only time I thought to myslef, "you know, if she wants to be into the princess thing, let's not be half-assed about it-let's DO THE PRINCESS THING." For realz. And you know what? It was fantastic. And you know what else? She is seguing into Super Hero-ness. Just a few weeks ago she "locked up" a kid (male, even) much older than her at the playground in a prison because he "was doing bad things in the world" and because she's a freakin' super hero like that. So, I'm not sweating her becoming a trophy wife amd wanting to primp all day long and wait for someone to save her (and give me a break, we are not Toddler and Tiaras). Anyhoo, we DID the princess thing-big and loud and unapologetically. And she had a blast. But this isn't where the story starts.

We left Saturday, November 18th. Sean's apprentice dropped us off at the airport. We uneventfully checked everything in, and as usual, I found myself thinking it's high time for us to invest in some real luggage so I don't have to carry zillions of bags with the contents spilling out. The kids were remarkably decent (with the occasional sibling kicking or pushing or efforts-to-annoy-eachother), and we got through security just fine. I had bought two headseats with a splitter for the DVD player and that worked just fine. We had them warm a bottle for Addie (yup-still taking bottles...she won't forever), and she fell asleep in my lap. I am pretty sure everyone thought initially that she would be a nightmare because she cried and screamed from the moment we were required to buckle ourselves in until we got up in the air about how she "didn't want to go bye-bye up in the sky". So nightmare=10-15 minutes; dream entertained/sleeping baby= 2 hours. Amazing.

We arrived in Orlando and the pilot said something about the kids seeing Mickey (whew-Gillian didn't know who that was at the time) but didn't blow our cover. We had worked HARD to not tell her where we were going for SIX MONTHS. It would be bad to have the cover blown now. We got our millions of carry-ons and the truck sized double stroller and headed to car rentals. I had found a deal with a company with bad reviews but cheap rates and we were armed with everything we had agreed to when we had reserved the car. Except they weren't in the terminal. Neither of us was interested in trying to figure out how to get to the place, since it appeared that every other car rental company but the one we were looking for was across the street in the parking garage from baggage claim. So, I went up to a local (as in, not huge national chain) car rental place and asked them how much they would charge me if I decided to rent from them instead. They asked what the other company had quoted me. I showed them my paperwork. They said they'd match it, and our car was 100 feet away. Sounded good to me. So we found our car (Toyota sedan, with 76 miles on it), packed it to the gills, and started our drive to the River House, which took us 2.5 hours from Orlando International Airport.

The River House (somewhere off Highway 17 between Green Cove Springs and Palatka-about an hour south of Jacksonville) was where Sean's Grandfather moved his family to raise them in the 50s when he tired of the polite society he had been brough up in in Jacksonville, FL. The original house was alog cabin, but burned down in the 70s, and a more modern, no-frills house was built in its place. So Sean's father, uncle, and aunt grew up in the log cabin on the river. Papa raised cattle, Grandmama kept house and would sometimes go to town to play bridge and visit friends. The property has a tremendous amount of sentimental value for everyone-it is a beautiful, quiet place to get your thoughts together or spend quality time with family and friends without the distraction of most modern technology. It is off a road that bears our last name that turns into this somewhere closer to the house:

We got there in time for a couple of hours of visiting time with Nonni and Grandaddy and Auntie Kim who was staying the night. The girls were giddy and jazzed to be around the family and were running around giggling and manic for a good 2 solid hours. Eventually we got them down-in the same room, even. There were two twin beds they slept in, and we kept as much consistent as we could-Addie's music was on, and I even brough their regular nightlight from home. Everyone slept just fine, and we woke up to a beautiful morning.<\div>

Nonni made everyone some of Grandmama's buttermilk pancakes, and then I went in to town to get gas, medicine for Sean's allergies (we decided he's allergic to Florida since he doesn't have those symptoms unless we're home), and some sunblock for Addie and Disneyworld. But, I got pulled over by one of Green Cove Spring's finest. She was waiting for people to not decelerate fast enough when the speed limit went from 50 to 35 mph 50 yards behind where she pulled out to get me. Now here's how I knew I was in the south. I didn't have a wallet (Sean's was in the car) with a license, I didn't have a current insurnace policy document (his expired last April), and the tag on the rental car was a temporary because the car was so new. But I was friendly, and she found out we really have insurance by running the policy number, and the rental car tag checked out...and she found me in the florida driver license database. So, we were having a perfectly nice conversation and she gave me a warning. And I was dually reminded about small Florida towns and their need for speeding ticket revenue. Point taken.

We spent the rest of the morning blowing bubbles, playing with "new" toys (some of which were probably at the farm when Sean was little), Grandaddy took the girls kayaking, he and Gillian fished a little, Sean taught me a few things about carving violin scrolls, and Suzi and I hung out and talked and relaxed some. The girls ate lunch and Addie took a nap. We simply told Gillian that we were "going to see some friends" and that since she had gotten some alone time with Nonni and Grandaddy in the summer and Addie got alone time with us, we were going to swap-she got to be alone with us and Addie got to be alone with them. We packed up the car and left the house some time around 4 pm and drove back to Orlando. We had dinner at Joe's Crabshack and headed to Walmart to get Sean some swim trunks because I had promised Gillian we would go swimming in the pool. She astutely noticed all the Disney paraphenelia at Walmart and asked "why do they have all this disneyworld stuff here?" and we were like...uh, maybe people around here like disneyworld!". Then we headed to the hotel.

I had gotten an incredible deal for a 1 bedroom condo at Wyndham Bonnet Creek Resort ($118/night)-which cost about 65% less a night than one of the Disney resorts and is only 5 minutes from the Magic Kingdom. I checked us in and took our coupons to the concierge to have her issue our Magic Kingdom tickets. We got to our room and were very pleasantly surprised by how apartment-like it was. We made Gillian's bed-pulled out the counch into a double bed, and then we all went down to the pool (zero depth pool which feeds into a lazy river, three jacuzzis, and an outdoor bar restaurant out the back door of the tier we were staing in). She had a blast playing in the pool and we met a great couple from Philadelphia who had a 14 year old daughter Gillian adored. When the fireworks from Disney started, we told Gillian it must be faraway thunder and were glad we couldn't see them! We eventually headed upstairs, took a quick bath, and put Gillian to bed-which was EASY. She was completely wiped out. We went in the bedroom, shut the door, and relaxed and watched a movie in a bed like a wonderful firm cloud.

The morning dawned clear and bright. Sean took his morning shower and I got everything ready for a day at Disney. Gillian slept in and came into our room, sleepily, and snuggled in the bed with Sean. He took her to the window, and pointed out toward the Epcot globe and said "Do you see that round ball right there?" and she nodded. He continued, "do you see that little tiny white thing to the right of the ball way far away?" and she nodded. "Well that little tiny white thing is Cinderella's castle at Disneyworld, and we are going there today!"....no response. She was spaced out or didn't have a clue what to think about that. I didn't get the response I was hoping to film, but as she woke up, she started getting psyched. First I gave her the pretty flower girl dress I bought from Zullily that would double as a princess dress ($14.99-what a deal!)...we left the condo after I slathered she and I with sunblock and drove to the Magic Kingdom. We parked, got on a trolley, and then got on a monorail. We got to the gates and were shepherded to a gate for "appointments only" because our Bippidi Boppidi Boutique appointment was before the park opened. It was pretty awesome to walk through the park when there were almost no people in it.

The Bippidi Boppidi Boutique was absolutely absurd-but it was in the castle, and that made it amazing. It was full of ladies dressed like fairy godmothers, and in fact they introduced themselves as such. Gillian was taken to her chair and got her hair and nails done. They went to put on makeup (I pulled the fairy godmother aside and asked her to be as natural as possible) and she got a tasteful little bit of pink lip gloss and a tiny bit of pink eyeshadow and a tinier bit of blush. Gillian was a little intimidated by the whole thing, but did great. We had heard that all the princesses would be at the luncheon except Repunzel and Jasmine, and that Repunzel was hard to see because she was new and pretty popular, so during our boutique appointment, Sean went and stood in line for Repunzel. Gillian and I joined him after a potty break and finishing her appointment.

Gillian was sweet and shy with Repunzel, but struck up a conversation about shoes-did Repunzel get use to wearing them since she probably never had to wear them in the tower? The girl playing the part didn't miss a beat and chatted with Gillian about shoes and books and loving to read and dance.

We did Dumbo and some other things before lunch, but then we went over the the Princess luncheon-an overpriced way to get meeting 5 princesses out of the way (read: way to save 3 hours of your life from waiting in line). The food was decent, but not worth the price we paid for it, but having the princesses come to us was totally worth it. Gillian's favorite-Ariel- did not disappoint. She was quick witted, and very personal with Gillian and told her she was a "Gillyfish" and proceeded to call her Gillyfish (even signed her book as such). She was sweet and a great sport, and Gillian felt pretty excited about the kiss she got on her cheek from Ariel, and didn't want to wipe it off all day.

The rest of the day was fun and Gillian enjoyed having our undivided attention. The only thing she begged to have was a balloon, which we committed to buy the second day on our way out. We met Princess Tiana (she had the New Orleans friendliness thing down pat) and then decided to go back to the hotel for a while and unwind before going back for fireworks and the parade that started at 9pm (below, on paddle boat going back to the car).

We washed the hairspray out of her hair, ate dinner, had a couple of drinks, and relaxed for a bit, then headed back over. It's kindof a haul to go back and forth, but going back to the park was a breeze because no one else was going to the park so late. Gillian loved the parade, and loved the fireworks and seeing Tinkerbell float across the air, but fell asleep on Sean's shoulder somewhere around 10:30. She barely stirred when we got back and put her in bed.

We woke up the next morning, Sean took her to the pool, and we leisurely made our way to the park. Gillian was probably already too overstimulated from the day before, so the day was a relatively short one (~6 hrs). We left the park at 4 pm and headed back to the farm to enjoy the rest of the week with family. She slept most of the way back, a testament to how wiped out she was. We arrived in time for dinner and Addie loved her balloon and baby Mickey and Minnie Gillian picked out.

Wednesday was rainy but eventually cleared up. William came by to stay the night and there was lots of instruction about fishing and Gillian and Addie totally enjoyed hanging with their Godfather AND their Grandfather!

Gillian learning to fish with Grandaddy

William teaching Addie to fish

Addie the ice thief

Gillian and William

Grandaddy with his girls

The sunset after a storm in Florida is breathtaking, especially with the clouds reflecting on the river.

Sean and William played a good bit of music, and I loved falling asleep Wednesday night to the faint old time tunes drifting out from the two of them sitting around a fire in the backyard under the stars.

Thanksgiving day dawned bright and clear. William is a new dad, and his amazing wife, Erin drove out in the morning with their new 6 week old son, Shepherd ("Shep").

Gilliam and Addie were all about the baby. They both wanted to snuggle with him and play with him. Addie was very worried about his comfort, and when she noticed he was without his pacifier and seemed uncomfortable, she wanted to make sure he had it. Shep is a beautiful, sweet tempered little baby, so he was pretty low maintenance, and a very good sport with all the loving from his little girl cousins. It almost made having a new baby look like a good idea. I said almost.

Addie, wanting to make sure baby Shep was happy

By noon, delicious smells were coming from the kitchen, Auntie Kim and Joey arrived, Bill's brother Shep (Baby Shep's grandaddy) and his wife Eleanor arrived, and Elenanor's son and partner arrived. It was a fun, full house. The girls loved the chaos, and Thanksgiving dinner and dessert were fantastic, thanks to Nonni (oh, and Eleanor with her awesome side dishes and cornbread)!!!

Sean and William playing on the back porch before Thanksgiving dinner

Gillian singing to Baby Shep

Hugs from Auntie Kim!

Eleanor and her son Reese and his partner, Nic

It was sad for everyone to leave, but it was a wonderful day and so fabulous to see the family. We have pangs after these events to move home-the girls would love being near their grandparents, and we would love some help with them and being close to home too, but there really aren't a lot of options for me and work down there.

We had a low key evening Thursday, and Friday was our last day. Sean's old high school friend Dan brought his wife and three girls over and Gillian and Addie had fun playing with them. We grilled hamburgers and hung out a couple of hours, and headed out when Addie woke up from her nap to go back to Orlando to stay in a hotel so we would be near the airport in the morning. We had an 8:30 flight, so that was a good choice.

The travel back was uneventful, but I SERIOUSLY need to look into better luggage for us. All the little bags and junk everywhere tells me I need to do a better job organizing and consolidating. But I can also say I didn't forget anything, so organized chaos? The kids watched their shows all the way home on the plane, and were really good. We got home by 11 am, and went into "wash all laundry and put our stuff back where it goes and the house back together" mode. That evening Gillian and I put up the tree.

Decorating

Sometimes crazy, sometime peaceful, our trip was a great one. As always, the grandparents went out of their way to make sure we had as easy a time as possible, and it was heart wrenching to drive down the driveway and away from them. It does make it easier to know they will be coming next week to share the holidays with us!

Fall

2011-11-16T13:43:00.001-06:00

We had a magnificent summer...warm and luxurious. We had so many beautiful evenings by the lake, so many days of bonding with our neighborhood friends! From the summer was born fantastic group-the Baby Wranglers of East Rogers Park. We get together for all kinds of things and have a page for all the great community stuff going on around here...from kid's night at Evil Squirrel Comics, to the children's programming at Lifeline Theater, to our newest venture with the New 400 Movie theater to create kids programming, and eventually music, literary, and maybe even puppet shows! Then there are special events, and everything in between. I am so blessed to have found such a fantastic group of like-minded parents. Somehow between the great, satisfying summer, and the beautiful fall we have had makes the onset of winter and the holidays coming up exciting and cozy. This Saturday we're off to Florida for Thanksgiving, where Gillian will have her first (surprise-shhhhh!) visit to Disneyworld and will then have luxurious, relaxing family time with Nonni and Grandaddy and cousins and aunts and uncles. So looking forward! Anyway, here is a glimpse of some of our fall activities...

G at Pratt Beach Park

Sisters

Illumined

Painting pumpkins with some of our fellow Baby Wranglers

G at the dentist office

Gillian's new favorite duds

Since I never posted pics of her at the dentist...we love Dr. Simón!

Supergirl!

Gillian and a friend at a Fall kid's festival-face painting!

Creepy

Pony rides!!

Addie-Halloween Kitty

G and her best bud headed out for trick-or-treating with their baby sisters

With the princess from 13 Clocks

Getting a tour with the New 400 Movie theater projection room-we got a tour!!!

Gillian reading to her sister!!!!

Refocus

2011-11-03T09:08:00.002-05:00

I noticed in August a painful spot in my breast, and I emailed my doctor about it to see if I could get in to be checked out...but of course, being as awesome as he is, he didn't have anything available for months. So, I figured I had my annual exam 5 weeks from then and decided to wait (I won't wait next time, y'all). Well, then I had to reschedule the appointment because of a work travel extravaganza that took me away, intermittently, for 4 weeks. So, I finally saw my doc last Thursday. And he felt the lump too. I have all kinds of scary cancer in my family, but breast cancer isn't one of them. Since I know breast cancer is in the spectrum of things related to ovarian cancer (which my mother died from at age 51) I have been on birth control pills for more than 15 years of my adult life, and the rest of the time I was pregnant or nursing. The theory is that if you don't ovulate, you don't have fluctuations in hormone levels that result in your body screwing up and mass producing flawed cells. So, I wasn't too worried about the mass initially, and I assume it went away, or stopped hurting, because I didn't think about it again until the past two weeks when it started to hurt. Then I was dying to see my doc.

I definitely had Googleitis-the not-so-loving term people in the medical establishment have for people who self-diagnose by surfing the internet. But what I found suggested that my lump was probably ok. It was smooth and shaped like an oval, and pretty mobile. It wasn't hard, immobile, and didn't feel like the surface of a golfball (pocked). I went to my beloved doctor and he checked me out. He felt it too. And he hesitated and told me it "doesn't FEEL scary, but, with your history..." and he recommended an ultrasound of the mass (which tells you if the mass has a cohesion of new blood vessels (scary-that is the case with tumors), or if it is a fluid filled cyst (not scary), or if it is solid (scary-tumor)). So, now totally freaked out, I called to make my appt for followup. I couldn't be seen for FIVE VERY LONG DAYS. Time to try to put all the panic-driven monkey chatter out of my head.

Tuesday morning came. I had made myself physically ill from the worry of it all. Silly, I know, but fear is not based in reason...all my intellectual rationalizing helped not one bit in this situation (or any other when I perceive my life is in peril-like terrifying flights with LOTS of turbulence). It took an agonizingly long time to get in there (they told me they "no longer do just ultrasounds", and had to wait for the clinic to open to get authorization for a mammogram). I was in a private sitting area (there were a few of these, mostly separated by walls. but there was an open walkway between them by the windows) waiting, after taking off everything above the waist...and the windows faced the sunrise. There was a lady next to me just standing at the window, looking out at the sunrise, arms clasped behind her back...I wondered if she was thinking about how desperately she wanted to watch her children grow up too...or how she would manage to continue to take care of her family when she was being treated with chemotherapy, or how she would work being sick, or if she would die after fighting so.hard. and if her kids would be permanently, deeply impacted from watching it all unfold. I know it sounds silly to let these thoughts run free when there is no reason to think them, but you pray and you pray and you beg and negotiate with God in darker moments. Fear is completely irrational and overrides everything sometimes.

The mammogram was everything I heard-awkward, uncomfortable, and completely logistically illogical. How many angles can you breast flesh be stretched to take pictures of them? Especially when you don't have much left after nursing babies for nearly 3 years of your life? I also wonder-if you know people are predisposed to breast cancer-does it make sense to dose them with radiation every year after a certain age (all it takes is a trigger to get those bad cell to proliferate-and my thought is "let's provide fewer triggers"...)? I remind myself again of being convinced that we will look back at the way we diagnose and treat cancer as completely barbaric one day. I look forward to that day.

I waited, for what felt like eternities, while the tech ran the mammogram images past the radiologist. After forever and 15 days, she came back in and told me his opinion was that the mass looked like normal breast tissue. (WHEW!) She also said, to make sure they weren't missing anything, I needed to have the ultrasound I originally came for. So, I did. And it looked exactly like a lunar landscape, like it should. I couldn't help think about the fact that the last time I had an ultrasound, it was joyful-to see the baby growing inside that became my Adelaide. I couldn't help but think how things can turn on a dime, and those associations can become so negative, and how much harder it is to turn a negative perception back to the light after something ulgy stains it. I love that I can still think about ultrasounds with wonder and peace after Tuesday. I hope I always can.

I pray and pray that I have my dad's genes (acute, fatal heart disease) more than my mother's/brother's (long, drawn out, miserable cancer). Is that weird? I want to finish raising these girls of mine. Life is so fragile and precious.

Sean and I saw that Matt Damon movie about the woman who was in the Tsunami and nearly died and had a near-death experience (more lovingly, "NDE" in that subculture), and the filmmakers based her visions during her "death" on what they gleaned from researching NDEs (and it was interesting to see how people who have these experiences are perceived by the mainstream-mostly as new-agey nutjobs). It profoundly affected me because I remember a dream the 7th night after my mother died (the first and only dream I had of her after her death) and I asked her what it was like to be dead-what she showed me looked exactly like the place the woman in the movie saw as she was dying. It freaked me out for days-I always thought of my dream as a dream, not as being shown a parallel reality where she was existing, which is what I believe it was now. I hadn't thought about that for more than 16 years. In the dream, she didn't actually say anything, but I felt her tell me that the other side is "slow and sweet-like a dream at twilight". It was so beautiful there-all muted and shadowy and shades of soft blue. And I never worried about her again. She had returned home. That movie made me want to read more about that near death experiences, and I hadn't thought about it until I was faced with my own mortality, so I found some NDE stories to read. They are mind-bending to say the least, and seem to indicate that NOTHING that happens here is by chance...for example, I love what this guy says about the usefulness of disasters and how they corral us to common purpose. How beautiful. And it's amazing how similar these stories tend to be.

So, I don't cling to life because I am afraid of death. I think most of us cling to life because we feel like others depend on us so acutely that their lives will be diminished without ours. I suppose most of us have some fear about the manner in which we will die. Sean's grandfather had a beautiful death-a massive heart attack while kneeling next to his bed in prayer in his late 70s. Joan's father-in-law passed over while he was surrounded by family and friends holding hands and singing him off to Amazing Grace. He died from cancer too. My brother showed me how much staying has to do with willpower, and he stayed here far longer than he should until his wife finally gave him permission to go (5 minutes after she told him they would be ok, and that he could go, he left this world). His death was slow, and painful, and he just lingered for months and months and months, waiting to be told he could leave.

What the truth is seems to be based a lot on our perceptions, but I love the recurring theme in these stories and wisdom people seem to glean from their "hereafter guides" that we are here perfecting our souls (whether you believe that happens once or over and over is subjective). Not a new theme. The Buddhists and Hindus have been on to this for thousands of years...seems we are proving them right all the time with science and quantum mechanics and particle theory...that we are all part of God-little bits of the divinity dust that makes up everything that exists everywhere we are conscious of...what exists-and even the spaces in between what exists. Mike Dooley has based his whole business of public speaking and inspirational books on this very thing-that we manifest our own realities. We create what happens to us, knowingly, or unknowingly. I know this to be true in my own life-ask the right and honest question, and the answer rebounds out of the vortex completely. It is remarkable how that happens, but completely predictable if you are open to it. If I decide on an outcome, one way or another, that outcome comes to be. There are no accidents or mistakes. This is what defines our free will. Christians often say that God always answers our questions, but often in unexpected ways. I guess the goal is to become conscious of how we affect our manifested reality and focus our efforts on learning what we came to learn.

I passed a lady who looked like she was from Tibet the other day. She was in traditional garb, and she was very old. I passed her, and I looked into her face, and the second felt like days, and then her eyes crinkled up with her smile and she said to me, "Namaste", hands together at the top of her chest. Namaste, in our western translation, means "The divinity in me honors the divinity in you". It was a message from the Other Universes. These synchronicities happen all the time...if we are open. And sometimes when we aren't, we are slapped awake by tiny, elderly sages at a Rogers Park bus stop on our way home from work.. or with a life-threatening illness, or with some other shouting signal from the other side of here.

Namaste.

Mischief-a few ditties

2011-10-28T13:07:00.000-05:00

We were in the car the other night coming home from Amanda's where she fed us all dinner when Addie asked for her "doddle" (bottle). I gave it to her and Gillian commenced to teach Addie to say the word properly. "Addie, Buh-Buh-BODDLE" she said. Addie parroted back "Buh, Buh, DODDLE!" all triumphant. Gillian patiently repeated the correct pronunciation more than several times, and Addie replied incorrectly each time. Then Gillian said "Addie, DODDLE?" to which Addie, annoyed, retorted, "Not DODDLE, GILLYAN, DODDLE!". So, then Gillian started getting mad because Addie kept saying "Buh-Buh-DODDLE" (and we kept laughing, because Addie was doing it to get under Gillian's skin). So, Gillian plugged her ears and loudly said "LALALALALALALAL". As soon as her fingers came out of her ears, Addie would shout "DODDLE!!!" squealing in delight. Because it was making Gillian nuts.

It's official: Addie is a big smart ass. Already.

I will never capture this on video either, but I don't want to forget that she does it-If I'm holding her and someone else has my attention (in a conversation or me watching Gillian do something at the playground for example), Addie will put her hands on either side of my face and physically turn my head so I am looking at her and she will reiterate the question she wants me to answer or repeat something awesome she wants me to acknowledge. It makes us, and everyone we know, laugh.

She stuck a sticker on my knee while I was in the bathroom the other day. Thursday I was at the doctor, getting examined (think pap smear) when the doctor (from down there) said, "hey, Michelle? Are you aware that you have a tiny soccor ball sticker on your knee?" It gave us a good laugh, but the best part is the reminder that I have these crazy little girls to come home to that decorate my extremities like ninjas...

So, Addie loves to speak in weird voices, play pretend (especially loves playing pretend with toy dogs), make Gillian go ballistic (but is also very concerned if Gillian is sad for unknown reasons and loves to give her kisses and hugs and back pats), and tempt fate with physical acrobatics. She Does Not like sleeping, eating (unless it's cookies and ice cream or chocolate, which she somehow always has an appetite for), taking off her pumpkin hat, being told no, and getting her diaper changed. If I tell her we have to change a diaper before the most awesome array of things she loves most in the world can happen, she takes off down the hallway, cheeky laughter peeling behind her. Nothing is easy, and deference clearly equals weakness or failure...so resist at all costs!

That's not to say Addie doesn't have heart-she does. Seeing a booboo on my hand she said, "Ooooooh, Mama, I'm so sowwy you have a booboo. Want me to kiss it?" Then she kissed my hand, got an evil grin on her face, and proceeded to lick my face and tell me she was a doggie. Well, she tried, at least!

There are so many things I should be sharing and so many sweet little things to love, and SO MANY VIDEOS I HAVEN'T EDITED...(like over a year's worth), but I can't seem to make catching up a priority. There is too much life to be lived...games to be played...moments to be cherished...Maybe when they're both in school I'll get caught up (bwahahahaha).

Addie's newest love-Letter Puzzle!

2011-10-10T22:54:00.000-05:00

Ah...MUSIC!

2011-10-04T22:28:00.001-05:00

One of these days, we will be a regular Partidge Family. Addie's been in music and movement class for a year (wiggleworms) and Gillian started piano in January of this year. She started Suzuki violin mid-September. Addie sings all day long, at the top of her little lungs. Gillian has a great ear but is absolutely nutty about being corrected on piano (she shakes her head and thrashes her arms around when I gently try to correct a wrong note or give her advice-this does NOT happen with her teacher). So, another one among us that doesn't take awesomely to criticism....fantastic!

Sean reasons that Gillian can develop her music reading skills on piano and her ear through Suzuki. Although I think he really just wants her to play fiddle at the end of the day, I kindof love the idea of her keeping on the classical track as well as tearing it up on fiddle tunes. I really hope she wants to play music and not be a cheerleader. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Meanwhile, I need to get back in the musical saddle. It is absolutely true that my music has taken a back seat...or, better yet, IS NOT EVEN IN THE FREAKIN' CAR ANYMORE...to things like PhD programs and raising small children. I don't make time for much that doesn't include the girls. To be good and balanced, it's high time I did that. I have found it pretty impossible to do with the girls being so young.

When we have that "to have another baby, or to not have another baby" discussion, I can tell you shedding child care costs and me moving to a more human schedule (where I could do more stuff I like such as *SLEEP* and *EXERCISE* and maybe even *HAVE A HOBBY!*) is VERY appealing. Neither would happen if a baby happened. Right now, I am 100% cool with getting out of diapers and never looking back. Our marriage will be better for it...as in we won't act like we have ADD trying to have a normal conversation anymore. Maybe we'll start sleeping again some day soon now that Addie is giving us hope that she might actually be capable of sleeping more than 2 hours at a time. AT 27 MONTHS OLD. Do ya'll know what not sleeping for YEARS can do to a person (of course, some of you know all too well-((((GROUP HUG)))))?!? If you could look into a crystal ball and tell me that 1) we would have another girl and 2) she would sleep like Gillian, I would get pregnant next week. But I won't because we could have another baby like Adelaide. Who I love to pieces...but Lordy she is rough around the edges with the not sleeping and not eating. And the teeth that TAKE FOREVER TO COME IN (= chronic discomfort)!

Anyway, I need to post a video or two from Addie's musical repertoire. You would be impressed. I'm certainly impressed. They paid me to say that (in hugs and kisses, but still...)

Greed

2011-10-01T21:03:00.000-05:00

Gillian's favorite toys don't exist. She has a house full of everything-a giant Disney Princess castle, princesses and princes; she has paints and art supplies, she has dolls and books, and games. But she could live without any of it-because what she likes best in the world is to pretend.

Her favorite game is to play mermaids or princesses. Mermaids are all about the tub and morphing into a beautiful princess when you dry off your tail. It's about who is your baby and who's the mean witch. It's about pretending you have magic powers to make people "not be dead anymore" or well if they're sick...or it can bring about the existence of rainbow ponies. Just like that. Princesses is along the same lines, except there's more of a focus on going to balls and getting married.

I have a theory about this desire to pretend in lieu of toys. I mean, seriously, Gillian almost never asks for a specific toy unless we're standing in the toy aisle. My theory is that it's because Gillian doesn't watch commercials. I swear, I think that is where greed comes from in the under 12 jet-setters. We DVR everything, and none of those DVR'd shows have commercials. In fact, Sean and I were discussing this the other night and we realized we *never* watch live television, or even our own movies, in front of the kids. So, no opportunity for seeing the smut of TV-the junk that everyone is trying to sell to everyone else.

I think that made her happier to be charitable with the toys from her birthday (even though her willingness was fabulous), and hopefully, any material goods. The real trick, I think, is to be charitable with herself-her time, love, and attention. I am still chewing on ways to internalize that.

Fat Lip

2011-09-28T12:32:00.000-05:00

I've been meaning to put this awful little image up for your perusing pleasure (for the record, this was after she had her face carefully wiped and inspected). In a sibling spat, Gillian shoved Addie into the bathtub faucet. Addie started screaming, face covered in blood. I freaked a little but tried to keep it together (and hoped, HARD, that there we no missing teeth-there weren't). It was interesting how ashamed Gillian was of what happened. She couldn't look at us, and kept crying. I was frustrated with her reacting physically to Addie when she was mad, but truly I was much more overwhelmingly sorry to see just HOW MUCH she didn't mean to hurt Addie. But, it was a great opportunity for me to teach Gillian why we don't push, or hit, or grab things from someone-unintended terrible things can happen, and do every day. Needless to say, there has been no physical ugliness in this house since this incident 2.5 weeks ago, and I hope that memory lives long in Gillian's mind.

Work

2011-09-26T12:19:00.000-05:00

I went to St. Croix, Virgin Islands, to work on a cluster of industrial sites that take up miles of the island's southern coast line. These facilities are causing some serious air issues. I would love to go into detail, but can't at this point (enforcement stuff). Needless to say, the work we are doing is desperately needed, and I witnessed first hand, and thankfully very briefly, what the residents nearby have to live with day after day. Of course, concerns over air exposures are easily trumped in some of these neighborhoods by the need for running water and electricity, but I digress.

In the past two weeks, I was gone from the girls for 7 days (5 consecutive days for the St. Croix sites, and 2 for a facility in Ohio). You might recall that Gillian was in Florida for 11 days last month, and she did great. Well, Gillian is 5. Addie is not 5, and Addie wasn't so keen on me being gone for 7 days in a 9-day period. Luckily, the girls' amazing grandmother was willing to come and stay with them and extra 4 days beyond the original "Gillian birthday extravaganza" plan to help Sean. We were exceedingly blessed for that. But.

People coming and going is a bit rough on 2 year olds. Especially when they're teething. Especially when they're sick and teething. Anyway, Nonni left Thursday, and I got home Friday. When I got home Friday, Addie didn't want much to do with me-sure, she would flirt with me, not unlike how she flirted with her 15 year old babysitter yesterday. But, she didn't want me to hold her, and she averted her eyes from me looking at her. Until the Monster Meltdown From Hell. This began when I asked her to give me my phone so she could have a bath. She said NO. I asked again and she said "NOOOOOOO". So, I took the phone and carried her to the bathroom. She was kicking and screaming and writhing. She was not interested in me or anything I was selling. I felt like me touching her was akin to a pirhana chewing her extremities-she was so repulsed and not having it. I tried to hold her until she calmed down (and eventually take her clothes off to put her in the tub), but she is freakishly strong when she's that upset. She kept trying to leave the guest room, and eventually I opened the door, but she stood at the open door, crying and telling me to "GO AWAY" and "LEAVE ME ALONE" until she was hoarse and squeaky. After 30 minutes of this, I took a break and sat in the living room. She didn't follow me. Sean went in to give it a try, and then she was saying "I want Mamaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"....

I came back, forceably took off her clothes and diaper and put her in the tub and gave her a very quick, very logistically difficult bath. The crying went on a while longer (all in all about an hour and 15 minutes), and when she didn't have an ounce of fight left, she collapsed into my arms, whimpering and clingy, where she remained the rest of the night until she went to bed. She was stuck to me like glue all weekend, and it was painfully clear that she didn't do too well with the Absent Working Mama thing. And I feel terrible about it. Because she doesn't understand anything except I wasn't there. And maybe there was also a smidge of this weird counterbalance of being abandoned by me AND then Nonni when Nonni left. And wow, when you can't process these things it just materializes as a monster emotional meltdown.

It's a conflicting feeling-I love my work. I love the opportunity I have to make something a little bit better in the world for people living next to these facilities. But my work takes me from home 48 hours a week that I can't give back to my family (that is my job and commute). It's hard to reconcile that. And although I don't travel nearly as much as I did before the kids, I still hate being away overnight when I am gone. I use to live for that crazy pace, but not anymore. Now I consolidate my work into intense 2 day, 1 night trips to spend as little time away from home as I can. My agency does allow telecommuting, which, even with doing it 2 days a week, would save me approximately 9 days a year in commute time. But I'm not allowed to telecommute because we are in a small regional office. I can definitely say that CTA isn't nearly as charming as my babies.

I wouldn't stay at home full time, even if I could, because I wouldn't be the best mother I can be that way. To value and honor my time with the kids, I have to have my own coveted little world. In that world, I am more than the housewife stereotype that is so pervasive in the world (though that stereotype is absurd-there is no harder and more thankless job on earth than keeping house, caring for your children, and staying home with them all day). Even if I am completely wiped out from work, coming through my front door to the love and energy of my girls rejuvenates me (long enough to get through bed time, at least).

Alas, the trickiness of the home vs. work balancing act. It hasn't gotten easier in the past 60 years for us at all.

To my Gillian

2011-09-24T14:24:00.001-05:00

It has been 8 days since you turned 5, and this is the first moment of peace I have had to sit and consider what it means that another year has passed, another milestone rushed by.

I honestly can't imagine that you are this impossibly huge-big and loud, and flamboyant. I can't imagine that the tiny mewing babe that was ripped from my flesh so many days ago is a real person-with fully cooked thoughts, with her own consciousness, and ideas-beautiful, wonderful creative stories and images and scenery that I have the privilege to see through art and conversation, and worlds-all her own. How it humbles me that you are exploding into this plant, all alive and wild.

It humbles me to see you learning to love, and happy to be so generous and vibrant. It makes me proud that you decided to give away all your birthday toys, save two, to children at a shelter, without pause. It was sweet and sad to see your heart breaking at the idea that some children might not get presents even for their birthday without the kindness of others. I want you to care about other people walking this earth and realize your potential to better the paths of others, even in tiny ways.

At this moment, you are jealous and generous, laid back and temperamental, kind and selfish, loving and spiteful...you orbit, yin and yang, around the core of you. You are starting to realize your potential to teach your sister, to influence her world for better or for worse. How she adores you...how we all do. I love to watch you becoming a strong, self-assured, decisive girl. My baby is growing so fast. But like you said, you'll still be my baby when you're 5, or 10, or 50, or 100. I love you in a circle, angel girl.

Reunion

2011-08-28T07:55:00.000-05:00

It was funny to see how the girls acted toward eachother last night when Gillian got home from being with Nonni and Grandaddy for 11 long days. Gillian was very patient and sweet with Addie and Addie didn't want Gillian to leave her sight for a second. Then in the tub Gillian apologized for being "mean to Addie all these years." There was much gentle stroking of faces and kisses and hugs and talking about how much they love eachother. Then Gillian put Addie's bandaids on her booboos and brushed her hair for me. And made a little bed on the floor and read Addie's bedtime stories. Sean and I just sat on the couch and watched their sweet, snuggly reunion.

Dinner Conversation

2011-08-23T21:15:00.000-05:00

"Mama's a GIRL.
Anna's a GIRL.
Haukie's a BOY.
Grandaddy's a BOY.
Addie's a GIRL.
Papa's a BOY. Papa has a PENIS.
Mama's a GIRL. Mama has a 'gina.
I want chocolate."

On only children

2011-08-22T21:06:00.000-05:00

(Papa and Addie sitting out back Saturday morning listening to, and discussing thunder)

Wow, Addie has TOTALLY LOVED being the only child the past week. Her language has exploded even more. Last weekend she correctly used the words "maybe" (Me: "where is your ball?" her: "MAYBE it's downstairs") and "good idea" (Me: "Addie, what do you think about going to the playground?" her: "Mama-that's a good idea!"). She also is cracking me up with her use of "dangerous" and "worry". I guess she took that Yo Gabba Gabba episode to heart about being careful. So, if she's standing precariously on some random piece of playground equipment or about to free fall into the cushions from the side of the couch, she might say "WHOA, Addie! It's DANJRUSS! I make mama WORRY!". Then she laughs and does something completely insane that makes me almost have a heart attack. And laughs some more. I haven't taught her the words "heart attack" but I might. Sean says she will be out daredevil and we're in for it later. I think he's right.

I also notice the more subtle-like last night Addie rolled onto her stomach in the bathtub and said "look at me, Mama! I'm a mermaid (clearly stolen from Gillian)!!!"...and at the playground she said some dead leaves were mice and was cradling them gently, and then put them to bed with some mulch. Or that her spoon and fork "are dancing" at the dinner table, or maybe they get tired from all that and go night night with her napkin. BECAUSE SHE SURE ISN'T EATING. *sigh*

I have to say, it is so sweet to spend so much time with Addie. I get to feel like a sane parent again, like I have some semblance of control. Because so much of the time with two kids you are wrangling and trying to keep the peace. I am feeling more deliberate and relaxed...I have gotten some stuff done (oh, the bedroom turned out SO CUTE! Will post pics after I get the new bed sheets and curtains hung-can I just say that Gillian is going to freak out!? Pink and pink and purple and flowers. Totally freak. It is fit for a princess!). I get to have conversations at the playground with other parents without anyone pulling me away to play a mean witch or a princess-mermaid sister. So. Nice. But.

There really is always a but, isn't there? When we Skype with Gillian and I see her sweet face, I have visceral pain that I can't hug her good night. Pretending to kiss the Gilly-in-the-computer just isn't the same as kissing her and breathing in the smell of her little face. She slays me on a regular day with all her age-appropriate challenges, but of course I think she is a MAGNIFICENT child-so imaginative and creative. So, even though my life is easier without her here, I would never choose a life without her here. Both of my girls are completely different people when they are alone with us. It is remarkable the behavioral differences. Gillian is sweet, well-behaved, chatty, and warm. Addie is snuggly and happy and not nearly as whiney. And here's what I have really noticed since Gillian has been gone- ADDIE SLEEPS THROUGH THE NIGHT WHEN GILLIAN ISN'T HERE. What is that all about? That has transformed my life, people. Wonderful, fabulous sleep! All I can figure out is that Addie has a LOT of nightmares that involve Gillian taking her stuff or them fighting about something (I know this because I hear her crying out in her sleep "nooooooooooooooooooo...MINE!").

Now here is something that truly has me irate:

So, I am missing Gillian desperately, and the days Sean is supposed to fly down and bring her home there is a major HURRICANE? Seriously? Ahh, the universe and her sense of humor. Her first day of school MIGHT be Monday.

Anyway, this past weekend, we so enjoyed out time as a family threesome. We hit the music/art festival on Glenwood (a short 2 block walk from our house)-which I totally think I am going to participate in next year! Addie got to see her buds Piper and Hauk and danced and hugged and kissed MANY neighborhood doggies (*sigh* my dog-free days are numbered, I fear). We enjoyed dusk at the beach both days and spent plenty of time outside enjoying the amazing weather. I think 75 and sunny is just about as perfect as it gets, and we are enjoying the waning days of summer (consequently, this is also the part when I rave about how I never want to leave Chicago).

Tomorrow and Friday I will be home with Addie, taking in the last few days alone together. I guess I feel a little sad that a second child just doesn't get this type of attentive, complete connection like a first. I feel like coming home will be a big adjustment for both of them-having had undivided attention both here and with the grandparents. I do think, though, that having this vacation with Addie will make me more sensitive to making some time to notice her sweet subtleties. She is just as amazing, and silly, and just as much a conscious little being as her sister and I have had the luxury of immersing myself in all things Addie in this little window of life. So, I count my blessings having had the opportunity to really BE with Addie this past week. Life is good.

Gillian's first trip. Without us.

2011-08-17T13:53:00.000-05:00

This is a milestone day. The first one where Gillian will spend her night in a different city...different state, even, than me. I can't really explain how I am feeling right now, but it's a bit schizo. On one hand, I love to see that my girl is so secure that this is a huge adventure and she skipped out of here, so excited. On the other, I have this irrational fear that the force field of my love being remote has left her vulnerable to the danger and elements of the world.

Nonni flew up here Monday night, stayed yesterday, and left with my firstborn today. My precious baby that I have invested UNGODLY amounts of time and love in. Well, I suppose it's actually very Godly, but I digress. I knew this day would come, but I guess I wasn't prepared for the WEEPING that overtook me when the car carrying them drove away. What *might* have done it was blowing kisses and that parting comment from Gillian, "Bye Mama! I love you in a circle!". Oh, why did she pull that one out of the air? You see, when Gillian was in her 2s, we use to play game where we would say "I love you to X and back", where we would insert things like "the grocery store" or "the moon" or "the ends of the ocean". One night, we were playing and went on for a good 15 minutes, when Gillian said "Mama, I love you in a circle". It was hard to drive after she said that, since my eyes were so filled up with love that they just started spilling out everywhere. So, that is our special-code-big-gun statement for how much we love eachother. We love eachother in a way that has no beginning and no end..permanent...eternal. In a circle.

I know Nonni and Grandaddy will take immaculate care of her, and I know that she will have so. much. fun! But. I remember how I mused about her independence and being influenced and molded in a world not involving me when she started school last year...it's kind of like that, but in a much more tangible way. She is physically outside my realm of control. It is both terrifying and liberating. Bipolar.

That is not to say Gillian left without a second glance. Monday night (before Nonni arrived and when Papa was gone) she had a full fledged meltdown...not a temperamental one, but a tragic and sad one. She kept saying that she was going to miss us...and that she wanted her Papa. She said she wanted us to go with her, and then she said she didn't want Addie to get to stay with us all alone. She was so into the wallowing that she even said "I miss PEEPERS (our cat who has been dead for nearly two years now)" and "I want to give grandaddy a hug because he is sooooo sad Grandmama died"... All of these things sobbed between hyperventilation/wailing. The pillow was soaked with tears. This one wasn't a performance. I snuggled in bed and hugged and tickled her until she was sound asleep. Then I asked my boss for Tuesday afternoon off. Nonni and I took Gillian to lunch and then I took Gillian on a Mama/Gillian date to the water park. We played mermaid for 2 hours, and then went to Home Depot to pick up some paint because I am going to go to town on her bedroom and do it up super-girlie. I let her pick out the colors, and I can tell you there are several shades of PINK involved. It's her choice, and I would say I am pretty entrenched in the parenting a girl thing. Anyway, the point is that I feel like I at least got a good date in yesterday which makes today a tiny bit easier...

To help myself process, let me analyze the specific pros and cons of allowing Gillian to go to Florida:

The pros: Gillian gets a brand new experience and gets to spend a lot of focused time with her grandparents. Gillian will be having fun doing new things while I am on work travel next week instead of being home missing me. I don't have to hear anyone bickering or fighting for 11 days. I don't have to choose who to hug first when I walk in the door from work...and related, I get to wallow in my Addie love and not feel guilty for Gillian's jealousy. I can give Addie 100% of my undivided attention. Bed time is half as long. I can do more around the house because I get a break at nap time. Entertainment is a whole lot easier with a 2 year old than an almost-5-year-old. Dinner will be more quiet and calm. I don't have to role play for 11 days (it is sweet (and utterly exhausting), but I love the vacation from that one!). We will have a few sweet snuggley mornings with just Addie in our bed like Gillian had for nearly three years before Addie was born.

The cons: This house will be TOO QUIET. I will have one less set of arms to hug me and not nearly enough kisses. Dinner will be more quiet and calm. I won't get to see my girls hugging and kissing eachother and playing this elementary stage of play that is so fantastic and beautiful. I won't have anyone to pretend with and talk to before bedtime...and make up wild and wonderful stories about dream dates with...or make monsters or bears or princesses with out of playdough or clay.

As much as I tell you honestly, the trials of parenting my crazy Gillybean, I wouldn't trade a single bit of it ever for all the money on earth. She is EXACTLY who I was intended to parent. I am just feeling, today, like she was excised from my space and it is hurting quite a bit. How I love and love and love that girl. My girl.

Imaginative play

2011-08-15T15:00:00.000-05:00

Addie is funny. Really, really funny. Like, stand up comedian funny. She loves to be silly to make us laugh. This weekend, Addie and Gillian had some great play time, and I hear with my own ears, when Gillian said "Addie, let's play Princesses"...Addie said (in her usual, overly pacifying tone) "Ohhhhkayyy Gillian". Then Gillian said "who do you want to be?" and, seriously y'all, Addie said "Baby Rapunzel". Gillian is training her up right to love all things princess and all things pink.

Something not so cute lately is Gillian roaring in Addie's face with her "claws" up like a T-Rex and making Addie cry. Gillian has been getting LOTS of time outs over that. Well, that and chasing Addie around the house making her screech in panic and fear while making a T-Rex sound (Addie comes crashing into my thighs screaming and crying her head off when this happens). When the girls are ugly to eachother, whether it be physically, or yelling, or scaring, they have to apologize, give eachother a hug, and if warranted, kiss the site of the offense/booboo. So, Addie processed the T-Rex terror by acting the scene out with two little Happy Meal Smurfs in the kitchen yesterday when it was just us. So, one Smurf went "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" then she made the other one cry. Then the first Smurf said "I'm sowwy Gi-yann" and then Gillian Smurf said "That's OK. I forgive you" and they hugged and kissed. Then they held hands and went to the playground. So, in Addie's world, she is the one who is powerful enough to torment Gillian with terrifying dinosaur roars, but she is also compassionate and sorry. Well, at least she sees Gillian modeling kindness enough to imitate it.

This weekend, Gillian and Addie played so well together. I had a glimpse of the future and it looks pretty awesomely SANE. the day when they can role play for hours by themselves will be amazing. But in the meantime, I am playing a lot of mermaid princess in my house. The current favorite storyline is that I catch Gillian in the sea and bring her back and put her in my tank at home (she, every SINGLE night tells me she has "long rainbow hair that GROWS EVERY SECOND" and "a rainbow mermaid tail to HERE with pink fins" (gesturing toward ankles)). Sometimes she is a baby mermaid (with no parents) who was "just born" and other times she is an adult mermaid and Addie is her baby. Either way, when she dries off her tail, they become legs (we once watched Splash with her), and then I introduce her to such foreign things as underpants, nightgowns, and toothbrushes. The emotional pinnacle of her story is when (after prompting that it's time to "ask the question") I ask her to stay and be my daughter. To this she adds, "Yeah, I'll stay with you forever" and then I breathlessly exclaim "REALLY!?! YOU WOULD DO THAT FOR ME??" Then she nods, beaming, and we give eachother a giant hug of celebration. This is a sweet little storyline, and varies some, but holy moly it's hard to muster the energy after my 12 hour day. I keep telling myself that one day she won't give me the time of day and to enjoy it while I can.

Two other Stories of the Moment are: 1) Gillian is the Easter Bunny, who is really a beautiful princess in disguise and also the daughter and personal Elf Assistant of Santa Claus. In this story I am the child, and she wears a terrifying water color bunny mask she made in preschool (I swear I had a nightmare about it the first time we played this game). 2) Gillian is Ariel Marianna and/or Rapunzel (whose rainbow hair GROWS EVERY SECOND) and she is getting married (first she tried telling me she was 19 and had a baby when she was getting married and I told her she had to be married already to have a baby in my house, so she decided she was 25 and getting married). We put the crown and veil on and I play the wedding march on the piano, and we have a big dinner party, and last time, she even laid on the floor and gave birth to baby doll Rapunzel. I tenderly swaddled her and handed her over. GILLIAN LOVES THESE GAMES. She is also ashamed of them and tells me not to tell Papa or Nonni about them. How precious that she trusts me that much. ♥ ♥

Feeling like Mother of the Year

2011-08-10T14:44:00.000-05:00

Some days of parenting make me wonder how I thought I was qualified for this mom job. Just because you can get pregnant doesn't mean you should. So, today, when I was standing next to the moneky bars at the playground and Gillian kept yelling and demanding things of me and proceeded to throw a super-gigantic-monster fit because I suggested that she really didn't NEED me to do the monkey bars, because let's face it, she could really do it herself (and I had already helped her a few times and told her she could continue to practice by herself)....well. I just couldn't negotiate anymore. I couldn't let her stand there like a diva and tell me what to do ("right NOW" she even said). So, I said, "you don't talk to me that way. Let's go home. You can try it another day". What I really wanted to do was spank her entitled, spoiled little behind right there in front of God, the world, and everybody. Oh, the crying and drama than ensued. Every parent was looking to see what horrible ill I had inflicted on this precious little girl. Maybe I shouldn't be sparing the rod, but my friends that spank don't seem to have this problem. One person we know puts their kids in a cold shower when they really deserve a good spanking.

Good Lord. I look around everywhere we go, and I don't see kids acting like mine. I try really hard to figure out what I'm doing wrong, but we are pretty consistent, we do plenty of time outs, and the behavior persists. Everyone says these ages are rough (God knows Addie is definitely in the terrible twos), but this bad?? Gillian even knows how to pull out the big guns-she plays on the guilt she obviously knows I feel for working, and pitifully (whilst whimpering after a crying fit) will say something like, "I just feel like you love Addie more than me, and I just love you and wish I could spend more time with you". Ah, that. If I didn't feel terrible enough.

My kids are not the good little children in church that respectfully keep their mouths shut during a homily. Mine are the ones yelling into the quiet (making everyone turn around to see who has the audacity) to hear the echo and running around squealing at the back of the church (we have stopped taking them both to mass-although Gillian can manage to sit dutifully the entire hour, Addie is bored after 3 minutes-even with books, crayons, and toys). Mine are not the children who sit in the grocery cart and help me decide on what to buy. Mine are causing a scene and fighting over something and slapping eachother over the right to hold a banana. We don't all go to the store anymore unless Sean joins us (best possible scenario is me going alone...ahhh, how I love the quiet!). Gillian is fine by herself at the store, but when Addie's there, she decides to act like her instead of setting an example. Even at the playground, my kids can't just enjoy themselves-Addie is running off to the beach while Gillian is crying because I won't hold her up to the monkey bars (which I have seen her master when her peers are around) or push her on the swing (which she can do herself). Last weekend, we left the Irish pub where all Sean's friends were playing music, full beers and plates of food on the table, because Gillian threw a fit because she wanted to dance, and then we had a chance and I took her up to the musician circle, and then she decided she didn't want to, so I went and sat back down. Well, then she screamed and cried because she wanted to dance. This entire scene was disruptive to the musicians and all the patrons who came to enjoy a pint and listen to some tunes, and highly embarrassing to Sean, who considers these people friends. Many, many children go to that jam and enjoy it and behave and dance all by themselves, but mine are not among them (but they use to be...?).

I am hoping this is a phase. A miserable, frustrating phase (even this makes me sad-I want to cherish every second I have with them, but it's hard on these rougher days). I like to remind myself that one day I'll be glad Gillian and Addie both are so strong willed and opinionated, but today is not that day. In fact, I will probably not fully appreciate that until they are off in the world kicking asses and taking names. In the mean time, I will continue to second guess whether or not we could be doing things better. I will say, when Gillian and I are alone, we always have a fabulous time. Her music teacher, who comes here during the summer for her piano lessons, tells me that she and Gillian's teachers believed she is a "well mannered, well behaved angel" at school. This tells me she saves it all for me, but that at least she knows how she's supposed to behave around people. I also have to believe that Addie's presence is the catalyst for most of this, but also have to believe that one day these girls will be best friends. Already they are playing more together, hugging and kissing more, and seem to enjoy eachother's company lots more than even three months ago. But I feel like a therapist, a very bad, untrained therapist, that should be able to recognize what triggers Gillian's meltdowns, and how to react better than with the frustration I often feel.

Names

2011-08-01T20:53:00.000-05:00

The girl is learning what's in a name. And her lisp is there to maximize the cuteness. Never one to miss an opportunity, I grabbed the camera like lightening when we were reading this sweet book she got for her birthday. Because she started telling me the little pig was "Addie" and that "I'm two years old". Then she started telling me everyone's name. Even her pacifiers' names ("Nums Numpthsss").

Summertime

2011-08-01T07:57:00.000-05:00

This has been an honest-to-God real summer. None of that "hardly breaking 80 degrees" stuff. I feel like I'm home. I love the ease of getting the kids ready to go outside (bundling up is not as much fun as it looks like it would be-haha!), I love walking up to the playground and seeing all our friends from the neighborhood at any given time, I love just walking up the street to get a bite, or go to the movies, or grab a coffee. I love the sense of community at the lakefront where you are bound to see at least a few people you know when you go for an evening walk or swim after dinner. Lots of happy people and happy dogs running around the beach these days in the soft quieter moments before sunset.

Not to say that we don't miss being near family..we do. But we love the community that we have become entrenched in. It's a little sad to think this time next year we will be saying goodbye to Anna, who has raised Addie since she was born and Gillian since she was 14 months old. But then the girls begin a new chapter of being in school at our neighborhood catholic school that happens to also be our parish.

I am still agonizing over whether to have another child, but that is a purely emotional decision. The girls are growing so fast, and I can easily get verclempt over the idea of how shockingly quiet my house will be one day. All the grating calling for Mama or Papa will be gone, replaced by the deafening stillness of us, and we will ache for that chaos again. My babies will make their way into the world, and with any luck they will stop and look back fondly on these endless days of summer and forgive us for moments of impatience...and maybe even give us a call to tell us how they are doing every now and then.

Here are a few images from the past month from my phone. Tonight we will do more of the same-soaking it all the way in-so we can have some extra warmth to get us through the long, cold winter.

Gillian enjoying the water on a gorgeous summer evening

Ahhhhh

Looking for something

Pretty at the park

Taking a break from the pool to play a few tunes

Playing on the "rainbow" at Pratt Beach

Morning scene on the weekends

Gillian is getting braver with the help of her (not even kidding a little bit) child therapist swim teacher

Loving on Papa

Gillian's first Cubs game-EVER-was a special date with Papa

Snuggling with Papa and talking to Nonni and Grandaddy on Skype

Artiste

2011-07-23T23:57:00.001-05:00

So, at 2, both of the girls seem to be/have been attempting to draw real things. Exhibit A:

Gillian, at age 2 (24 months): "Sunshines"

And here is what her first figure looked like:

Addie drew her first figure today. I was impressed by the detail (eyes, hands, nose, mouth, hair). I also thought it was eerie how much it resembled Gillian's early figures:

Here is one of Gillian's:

Now, the self expression jumps to a whole new level. Awesome to have a front row seat...

In case you were wondering...

2011-07-10T20:57:00.000-05:00

Dear Addie:

Right this moment, you are sleeping in your little crib in your room, num-num in your mouth, your music mobile playing the Clair de Lune, your little yellow blanket tucked snugly around you. I imagine your little mop of golden curls are flopping carelessly around your sweet face and your long, dark eyelashes are sweeping down like raven feathers...all the while you are dreaming sweet baby dreams. I wonder if you are at the beach with me still, in that twlight dream place, talking about your desire to hug the moon.

Lots of moments with you this weekend-just walking to the water, your delight with all the neighborhood doggies you got to pet and hug and kiss...and that mind-blowing lot of "sleeping cars" (you noted that the ones driving on the road "woke up" (cars awake!)). I can't forget the image of your little blond curls ecstatically dancing up and down as you ran down the sidewalk urging me to join your galloping (how could anyone deny you?). And all the delight of being the center of attention for once (Gillian tried a few times to wrangle that from you, but you stood firm) today when people came to celebrate with us on your special day.

Sometimes I worry that I can't love you any bigger or that I can't squeeze out any more time for you in my stacks of endless responsibility and worldly preoccupation...but in case you were wondering, today, like so many days, your innocence and wisdom made me stop still and breathe some moments in with you. This weekend I added a respectable few pages to my "ever after" book of motherhood. If you are the last baby I have, I want to try and remember all of it-the way your sweaty little head smells, how your cheeks flush so red in the heat, how you have perfected the scowl (and noting our hurt from the scowl) how generous you are with your hugs and kisses ("Mama HAPPY now!") to make it all better. I want to remember your appreciation for the tiny bits of this life (like a colorful drop of paint on blacktop, ants!, a raindrop, crescent lights on the wall at the grocery section of Target that, to you, are HAPPY and Sad (when you do this, you perk up and smile and squeak "happy!!!" and stick your lip out and slouch and do a silly low voice for "sad")... how I love and love and love you. I didn't think I had enough room in my heart to fall this much in love with yet another person, but here I am, so in love with you. I have realized that a person's heart can ALWAYS grow bigger.

Today is your second birthday. I don't know where the little grains of sand go, but here we are 700 days later. And you have become so beautifully... so conscious, and smart. You are so chatty and verbal, and so able to express yourself. And the singing! We have high hopes for you and for music... You are our little michief maker and dually our drop of pure sunshine. You have great empathy and compassion for others, and love to demonstrate that daily (one beautiful walk home from the park, for example, you hugged my neck and kissed me all the way home). Even if someday you feel forever engulfed in Gillian's shadow, remember that you are your own sun, with all of us orbiting around you. You are equally adored.

So, on your second birthday, my little love, I want to tell you how much I value these sweet days of summer with you-of all you are and all you will be. Every morning when you were still growing within, I said affirmations to the universe for you-that you would be kind, that you would be compassionate, that you would be joyful, that you would be moral, that you would be discerning, and loving, and brighten the world of every person you touch, that your life would be full of wonder and love, and that you will stay safe from irreparable harm. So far, so good. May our best days lie ahead, my precious girl.

Love,
Mama

Interpretation

2011-06-25T22:51:00.001-05:00

What I gather of Addie's interpretation of this page of this book (and she reacts very intensely to this) is that:

1. The boy baby is sad
2. The girl baby made a mess
3. The boy baby took the girl baby's spoon away (and she wants it back)
4. Did I mention the mess? This is very disturbing, apparently
5. Baby mouse has a green umbrella

It really bothers her that the girl baby's spoon was taken away. Then she might muse that the boy baby is Gillian and the wronged girl baby is Addie. I suppose we tell what we know....

Vacation

2011-06-25T14:07:00.000-05:00

The second week of June marked our first family vacation in three years (link). Sean’s parents rented a beautiful property this year with direct, private access to the beach on Amelia Island. It was a really spacious house, and we got the bottom floor (2 bed 2 bath) mostly to ourselves, which afforded some privacy and quiet for naptimes and bedtime.

I contracted strep the week before the trip (I was finally diagnosed Thursday, but had been sick since Tuesday and we were supposed to be boarding a flight Saturday), and was a little stressed that I wouldn’t be well enough to go on this much needed break, but the antibiotics I was finally given Thursday completely took the edge off and I was able to go with the plan (thank God). The plan was that I would take the girls down on Saturday and Sean would join us Monday night late so he could get some work in the weekend before vacation. I accidentally booked a 7:30 PM flight (I thought it was 7:30 AM) with my award miles, and though it initially stressed me out that it would be so late, it was for the best in the end.

Saturday, Sean went to work, and then I went to work packing every single thing I could think we might need for the trip. It literally took me half of the day, and the other half I spent cleaning so that I could come home to a clean house. It is truly amazing how much thought has to go into packing when you are travelling with small children. Everything from clothing and shoes to diapers, toys, medicine, snacks, DVDs, crayons, coloring books, mobiles, pillows, boopies, stuffed animals, blankets….in order to make your own life easier, you have to make sure everyone is as comfortable as possible. No small task. And I wasn’t even doing an epic trip like some awesome rockstar mamas I know.

Sean dropped us off at the airport after checking the flight status on the way there and seeing that the flight had been delayed until 9 pm because of the weather (insert paranoia-I have become a skittish flyer in my old age)…though he offered to take us home, I declined because I had once missed a flight because I was told it was delayed and it ended up leaving a few minutes late, but not as late as they originally said it was going to leave (I was AT the airport and went to get some food when I was told the flight was delayed-I was very very sick with pre-eclampsia (2 days before Gillian was delivered) and collapsed in tears when I returned to the gate and everyone was gone…spent 5.5 miserable hours at the Columbus Airport that trip). I managed the STUFF like a pro (we only checked one bag and I carried the rest), and we got through security pretty easily. A mom of 5 (who looked amazingly young and gorgeous) took pity on me and helped me get the girls back together after going through the security checkpoint. I got all the pieces of our stuff back on their respective hooks and on my shoulder, kids back in the stroller, and off we went to the gate. I find when I travel alone, other parents, particularly women, are incredibly sympathetic and helpful…like offering to hold Gillian on the plane so I could go to the bathroom once, for example. It’s the little things that you are so grateful for.

We boarded the plane and left at 8:15 (glad I didn’t assume we were really leaving at 9). I got everyone down the jetway, and a sweet Australian mama corralled the kids and carried a bag while I folded up the stroller.
Waiting to push back was a little tense, as Addie wanted to get down and was doing some impressive crying, but once we started moving she kept noting the “Mama, Papa, and baby Airplanes” out the window. It was very sweet. Gillian was great throughout all of it, and very helpful (Yay! We’re at an age where Gillian understands the true importance of this!!!). Once we were in the air, the DVD player went on, and the kids were happy. At one point the stewardess asked me if we had some headphones for it (no) and then told me that if anyone complained, the DVD player would have to go off. I told her that I thought they would like hearing the crying and whining a lot less than the faintly audible Little Einsteins, but acquiesced.

Even with Gillian getting seriously green at the gills for about an hour of turbulence (me=terrified but holding it together) and me making sure the barf bag was readily available (note to self: she has motion sickness like her Papa), she and Addie were generally tired and calm and were happy to watch their DVDs. At one point we went to the bathroom and I multitasked by peeing and changing Addie’s diaper (who was standing) at the same time, then getting Gillian to “try” in a tiny bathroom. Amazing what you learn to do as a mama. We landed without incident, and got all our things reorganized on the stroller hooks and my shoulder and headed off to baggage claim to get our stuff. Jacksonville definitely doesn’t have it together the way O’Hare does-it took 40 minutes for our bags to come (about midnight by that time), and then only the car seats came through (off we went to customer service to file a claim). Our bag of clothing and bathing suits were lost (grumble grumble). Luckily, the girls were not tired, and after the initial sprint to see Nonni and Grandaddy when they spotted them across the terminal from the stroller, they continued to literally run around in circles until we left. Many bystanders commented that they “don’t look very tired”, but I have to say, my girls can party with the best of them. Even at midnight.

Into the car, and off we went. I was already grateful for backup and we had just arrived. I had been a very long day, and the kids had not slept since their midday naps. But they had plenty of energy to sing for 30 minutes while we drove from the airport to the beach house! We arrived, and Suzi had everything set up for a successful bedtime routine. Luckily, the girls were already in pajamas to travel, so we changed a diaper, got some fresh water in sippy cups, got Addie her bottle, and put both girls to bed. I went and sat on the porch that faced the glorious ocean, and soaked it in for a half hour to unwind before I turned in. I forget the amazing peace the ocean has always brought me. My mom always called me a “water baby” and I literally grew up with the ocean in southwest Florida. Seeing the girls grow to appreciate it so much in just a few days made me really sad it isn’t a bigger part of their lives. I mean, we can pretend Lake Michigan is the ocean, but it just isn’t (it is definitely the best that can be done when there is no ocean in driving distance, though).

Sunday morning we woke to a beautiful sunrise after 5 hours of sleep, but the girls were raring to go. Bill and Gillian made Grandmama’s famous buttermilk pancakes for us and Auntie Kim and her friend Rebecca (who had also stayed Saturday night at the beach). Gillian ate THREE pancakes. Addie ate a whole pancake (if you recall, she hasn’t been a big fan of solid food lately, so YAY!).

Then the kids wanted to go play at the beach, but unfortunately with the lost baggage, we had no bathing suits. Suzi offered to go buy new ones (there was a Target nearby) but I called the baggage claim people and they said our bag was on a flight slated to arrive at 9:30. I decided to go pick it up instead of wait until the evening for delivery.

When I returned, off to the beach we went. We started a morning ritual of going down to the beach and enjoying the cooler mornings and late afternoons to avoid the midday heat. We built castles, played in the sand and wading pools, collected shells, swam, and body surfed. It was nice to remember how much fun it is to just bum around and play without any responsibilities to do anything at any particular time. We all spent quality time with eachother and the kids, and it was a wonderful, relaxing trip. Sunday night Bill grilled some awesome pork tenderloin, and the kids enjoyed having the grandparents bathe them and get them ready for bed. Lots of jumping on beds and squealing and ticking occurred.

Monday morning, we got up, ate breakfast and were on the beach by 8:30. This was the day I realized I could get up and meditate and take a walk on the shore if I wanted to. And I did. All. By. My. Self. Every morning (*heaven). I also managed to take a few pictures of Gillian that morning before the camera ran out of batteries (*sigh*), but I got a few great ones.
Suzi had made some gorgeous white sun dresses for the girls, and we wanted to re-enact the beautiful morning light pictures we took of Gillian when she was Addie's age in 2008.

The day went by like most after it, where we went to the beach, had lunch, took naps (I took some naps too!), played at the beach, had dinner, tooks baths, and went to bed. That doesn't do the actual experience any justice, but that was the gist. Suzi's dear friend Annie stopped by and it was nice to catch up with her a bit while the kids were napping (we had some nice piña coladas together!). My neice Amber (who lived with us last fall for a few months) and my sister-in-law Dawn visited in the late afternoon and early evening. The girls were so happy to see her, and it's obvious how much they miss her. Bill picked Sean up Monday night late and they got back around midnight. Suzi and I had waited up for him and we all had a midnight snack and hung out a little before heading off to bed.

Tuesday started like the other days (except we added a Starbucks run for Sean and I), but we took the kids to a playground after a morning trip to the beach before lunch. When the kids went to bed, Sean and I didn't squander the free babysitting opportunity and went to the movies (5 minutes away) to see Super 8 (Sean's pick). The afternoon consisted of more playing and relaxing, another yummy grilled dinner, and more bedtime fun. Wednesday, Sean's sister came back to stay the night and one of my oldest dearest friends (the fabulous Martha Seddon) came up from Lakeland to spend the day with me. Kim, Sean, and I walked to a little beach restaurant and had oysters for lunch, and then Marti and I went to the quaint little downtown Fernandina to window shop after she arrived. It was fun to just talk and walk (no kids!), and when we got back, everyone was at the beach. We headed down and had some good quality play time, then headed up to the house for showers and dinner (Awesome steak and potatoes). We also celebrated Addie's 2nd birthday a few weeks early since we were with family, and that was fun. Addie's favorite part: Balloons. After dinner, Marti and I took a long, luxurious slow evening stroll along the shore. I really miss being physically close to her, so it was wonderful to have a chance to cath up in person. It seems so long ago when we skipped school to watch the sunrise at Sanibel Island and talked about all our wild dreams (none of which included marriage or children). What a blessing to have someone in your life that you have been able to grow with for so many years!

Gillian watched Tangled about 30 times during vacation. She is *in LOVE* with Repunzel right now, and we had one of those amazing moments where she floored me. Gillian asked me "Mama, why in the Repunzel movie did that mean witch want to stay young forever?" Me: "Some people are afraid of getting old because maybe it reminds them that one day they are going to die". Gillian (incredulously): "Why are they afraid of that? They'll just go back to where they started". If you ever wonder if small children are tapped into the source prior to the distraction of aging, there you have it. I have no doubt we are much wiser at the beginning and end of our lives that we are in the middle of them.

Thursday, the girls got some special gifts from Nonni and Grandaddy (Repunzel toddler doll for Gillian with a dress that matches hers, and a little doghouse set for Addie with three little dogs to go in it (she LOVES dogs!!)) on a morning Target run, and Suzi and I took the girls to the playground. The forest fires (wow, they are HORRIBLE in Florida right now) had made the outdoor air pretty bad that morning (the wind direction was blowing from the fires, which had happened some, but was much worse that day, so we waited to do the beach in the afternoon). Sean and I took a long walk and had a long heart to heart about where we're going in life (career, location) and then went to the movies again (Bridemaids! (my choice)) and did beach time in the afternoon (the wind had shifted and it was much less smokey). Sean old college friends Aaron and Kathy came by to visit that evening and we stayed up visiting until midnight, at which time I told them I had to go to bed (yes, I am lame these days). I wasn't able to do much drinking because of the antibiotics I was one (they tore up my stomach), so the time warp of staying up late and visiting eluded me and I was just beat.

Grandmama's interment was scheduled for Friday morning at the Colledge family plot, and it was a nice service. Gillian was funny when, seeing the tiny ashes casket, she politely whispered "Nonni, how did Grandmama get in there?" We took a few photos of the girls in their white dresses since it was looking less and less likely that we were going to have time for the photo shoot we envisioned. After a little visiting with the family (Sean's cousins, and aunts and uncle and their families were there) we headed back to the house for lunch and naptime. Sean and I went out for sushi at lunch because we could, and we got back just in time for his cousins Jennifer and Emilie (Suzi's sister's girls) to arrive with Jennifer's son Cooper (who Gillian ADORES) and new baby, Cannon. We had nice visit with them out at the beach and then Sean's friends Aaron and Kathy swung by with their little girl (2.5 yr old Riley). After beach time, was pizza party time. I took one last opportunity to try to get a decent picutre of Addie in her dress and then we got the kids fed and ready for bed.

Suzi told a funny story of how that evening Gillian was playing with the blinds that Bill had just closed and he went into a long and detailed explanation of why he didn't want her to play with them taking several minutes. To this Gillian panned "Grandaddy, Bears live in the woods". A humble reminder of how it pays to keep the message short with children ;-) Then we just relaxed and had a nice talk with Bill and went off to bed.

Saturday was our last morning at the house and we had to leave by 10. We were going to go down to the family river house ("The Farm") and throw a bit of Grandmama's ashes in the river and say a last farewell and eat lunch together. Bill's sister Mimi was there with her husband and kids and Bill's brother and family and other sister came as well. Mimi decided to send Grandmama off with mini vermooth martinis (her favorite) and we toasted her and released the ashes to the river at the end of the dock. It was a very fitting sendoff for a very wonderful woman who was as real, unpretentious, and funny as they come-a true southern lady. Sean's Aunt Kathleen told us that she and Grandmama had transplanted a wild hibiscus plant down by the dock years ago and had been "babying" it for years, and it had never bloomed...until that day. The exquisite red flower was a shock of color against the cypress trees and the growth at the river's edge. There was exactly one flower blooming, and many buds were to follow. The symbolism of that was not lost on me.

Bill grilled hamburgers and we ate and drank and visited and joked (for this is a REALLY fun group of people). Gillian learned to fish, compliments of Mimi's handsome son Jim, who she grew very attached to in a couple of hours, and she learned to play Super Mario Brothers from Mimi's other son Bryan. Eventually, we had to leave. We were sad to go, because I imagine the farm is magical for the girls at this age (it's magical to me at this age).

Suzi drove us back to the airport area and we ate dinner and she dropped us off at our hotel (we stayed 5 min from the airport because we had a 6 am flight-free with miles). It was hard to say goodbye, as it always is, but at least we know we will see them again on Gillian's birthday in September. We went up to our room and noticed there was no crib, as there was supposed to be. We got the kids bathed and thought somehow we could get them to bed without it since Addie had slept with us some at the beach. No such luck. Addie was not having it. After 30 minutes of her playing around while the rest of us tried to go to sleep (giggling, climbing on us, running aroundm trying to make you open your eyes by poking them with her fingers, etc.), I called the front desk and told him we really needed that crib. He told me he was the only one there and he would go look for one as soon as he could. 20 minutes later I called again. He said they didn't have any more and were trying to borrow one from another hotel. By this time, Addie was hysterical. 10 minutes till 11 pm Addie finally went to sleep, spread eagle, in my bed where Gillian was also sleeping (I snuck out of the bed and put a "do not disturb" sign on the door because I was pretty sure they would show up with the crib now that Addie finally went to sleep). I had about 5 inches of mattress and noted, jealously, Sean sprawled out on the other Queen sized bed, all by himself. I would have joined him if I wasn't worried Addie would fall out of the bed and hit her head on the bedside table (which she had already done once on our trip).

4 am came way too fast. I figure I got about 2 hours of sleep with the flailing limbs in my bed that did not belong to me. We woke the girls up last after packing up everything and loading it onto the bag cart. The shuttle came at 4:30, but was full so we waited until 5 am and grabbed some breakfast snacks from the continental breakfast spread (just being laid out at 5). We got to the airport quickly, had an easy check in, boarded, and had a fairly uneventful flight back. Even though it was bumpy, I had reinforcements this time. But man, there was a line of thunderstorms in our path on both trips. It has been a crazy year for weather. Addie finally fell asleep about 45 minutes before we arrived. We got our bags, our neighbor Darla picked us up, and we were grateful to finally get home. Gillian went straight to bed for a nap when we got home (we got home at 8:30, which was fantastic), and Addie watched a Yo Gabba Gabba marathon while Sean and I unpacked (took forever-so much stuff!). Then I went to the grocery store because we had nothing in the kitchen and came back just after Sean had put Addie to bed. I took my nap and slept like the dead.

And that is the story of our 2011 vacation. We had a wonderful trip and enjoyed our time with friends and family. We appreciate everything Sean's parents did to make it a memorable visit!

Wisdom from Doc

2011-05-30T14:14:00.002-05:00

She's my curly headed baby

She's from sunny Tennessee

She's my curly headed baby

She's more than all the world to me

I have loved her since I met her (yes sir)

More than any tongue can tell

If she ever prove false-hearted

It would be so hard to say farewell

Now let me tell you 'bout some women (hmmhmm)

I can tell you how they'll do

They gonna be cryin' on your shoulder

And be flirting with another too

She's my curly headed baby

She's from sunny Tennessee

She's my curly headed baby

She's more than all the world to me

When I look into her blue eyes

There's more than words can ever say

I could never love some other

No one else can make me feel this way

She's my curly headed baby

She's from sunny Tennessee

She's my curly headed baby

She's more than all the world to me

Ballet Recital

2011-05-14T22:20:00.001-05:00

Even though last year I noted the annual ballet recital was a complete scam, we did it again this year. I would say, aside from being distracted by hearing her sister crying at about 50 seconds until Sean took Addie out of the room, Gillian did MUCH better than last year.

Here she was before the show. She loved her "REAL" (read: stiff and unsquishable) tutu.

Without further adieu, here's Gillian's performance. Even though this is a 6 year old class, I think she does alright!

Addie made a break for it in the middle of the another performance and tried to climb the stairs onto the stage. I believe she might even be more of an extrovert than Gillian has ever been. But it won't be for attention like it is for Gillian. It will be because she can do it-"it" being anything.

Gillian's teacher, Lindsay, is great and Gillian loves her. And of course, she loved her bouquet. ♥

Gillian's Spring Concert

2011-05-11T20:19:00.000-05:00

We will certainly have plenty of borderline embarrassing videos of Gillian performing for leverage in her adult life. But these really early ones are just cute!!

What we're doing to prevent Gillian's nightmares

2011-05-11T13:45:00.000-05:00

Photo credit here

I mentioned in a previous post that Gillian has pretty wild nightmares these days. The child development gurus say that it's pretty common for kids at this age to freak themselves out in any mental state, conscious or unconscious because of their burgeoning imaginations. So, to help her frame of mind when she's going to sleep, I have been talking to her about our "dream dates" before bed. We let our imaginations run wild with all the awesome things we are going to do when we meet up in our dreams that night. Last night, for example, the last thing we discussed was our trip to the moon and the sun (this trip was all Gillian's idea). To get there, we would start by climbing up to the top of a tall tree then jump really high to the lowest cloud, then we would trampoline from cloud to cloud till we were in outer space. At that point, we would fill our bags with stars until it was sparkling and go to the moon for cookies and the sun for lemonade. On the way back, we slid down rainbows (making sure to collect those for Rainbow Juice) bounced on some more clouds, and then brought the stars and rainbows back in our rooms to decorate the ceiling and walls. This morning I asked her which part was her favorite. She said the decorating though "the rainbow slides and cloud jumping weren't bad". She also liked the picnic on the moon.

Since I have started this dream date planning, she hasn't come in here freaking out about nightmares. It's only been a week, but still. Hope it keeps working! Even if it doesn't, we are having a grand time with our grandiose storytelling.

Mother

2011-05-11T12:53:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday someone sent me an Onion article about Mother's Day. The title is "Mom Brought to Tears by Thing Picked Up at Airport." It was so clearly written by a parent who understands how thankless a job parenting can be, and how acknowledgement of any kind can reduce you to a weepy blubbering mess...even if that acknowledgement comes in the form of a cheap knick knack bought on the fly at an airport. I find Gillian's little gifts so sweet and so special that I will probably eventually have to get the collection a place to live of its own (temperature controlled storage unit??). I can't bring myself to toss any of it, because every little drawing is so sweet to me. So, of course, the truly planned and executed birthday and mother's day drawings and gifts are exalted to the highest. Here is a "birthday card-book" I got a few weeks ago for my birthday:

Front cover

Us playing Princesses

"Our family at Christmas with TONS of presents" (that last part is wishful thinking)

Us, as mermaids, at "Nonni and Grandaddy's Beach House". This is a pic of how she imagines our vacation coming in June to be when we meet up with Nonni and Grandaddy at Amelia Island. We are all excited to enjoy being with our family!

Here is a sweet, laminated little keepsake that I got for Mother's Day that Gillian made at school. I love that my favorite flower is listed "dandelion". Well, it's a daffodil, but she got the "D" right!!

So, even though I'm not prone to hysterics, I did get choked up at both of these. Because I can't stop thinking about how incredibly blessed I am. I have these two magical little girls and a husband who is engaged and active and present. It really just doesn't get any better than this.

So, to all of you mamas who have the profound responsibility of raising another human being, and through that experience have moments that make you weepy with grateful tears- Cheers. I wouldn't change a thing about where I am at this moment in any kind of major way. These days, I pray for continued blessings of the variety we have. What a luxury-I take none of it for granted. And I pray for everyone who is not in that place to find the health, peace, and plenty to get there. Love and Love and Love..... ♥ ♥ ♥

An email from Auntie Darla

2011-05-11T12:41:00.000-05:00

**Darla is one of Gillian's favorite people. Gillian and Darla do things alone together from time to time. Monday night they went to Whole Foods (aka "Baby Cart Store"). Darla always something to tell us about a tall tale or some other Gillyism she had the priviledge of experiencing during their date. She sent me an email as an afterthought yesterday that I wanted to share**

"I remember what else Gillian said to me.

When she delivered me flowers [she picked in the yard] & came inside [my house] she wanted to wait for me in the living room while I got shoes to come outside with her. Then while at Whole Foods she told me she had seen where my bedroom was. Obviously curious. When we got back and I was spending 2 minutes needed to throw things in the freezer & refrigerator, she insisted on waiting in the living room. I called her to go to your place and she came bounded in with news. She had seen my bedroom AND she pulled the covers up on my bed "like they're supposed to be."

I fully admitted to her that my house is very messy. She admonished me a bit. "Darla! why do you keep your house so messy?" She later told me that you and Sean and she all clean your house.

While we were driving she told me she had a booger and proudly displayed it on her finger. Then she said she was eating it. I told her that was pretty gross. Of course she found the whole thing to be hilarious. Eating of boogers must be something learned at school, right? I was really surprised when she claimed to be eating it. No idea whether or not it was true."

Alas. It is always amusing and sweet to see how Gillian is perceived by other adults and children. What can I say? I guess she eats her boogers because they are salty joy. I also guess she eats them because I don't nag her about it, because I have bigger proverbial fish to fry (though, for the record, I do tell her we use tissues on our noses around other people to be polite). Yes, I guess she learned that from boys at school, though I think many kids just figure it out all by themselves. I also think if you acknowledge annoying behaviors too aggressively, they will do things more to get a rise out of you. See? Mama the Therapist, in action.

Leaps and Bounds-Addie update

2011-05-08T20:10:00.003-05:00

Nothing makes you realize your own mortality like parenthood-like, the days are flying, FLYING by. Even the months and years seem to be speeding up. Adelaide's development is on fastforward right now. Over the past month of so, it seems, she is relaying completely cooked thoughts. She is funny and charming. She likes to sing (but "baa-baa Babies" has given way to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Wheels on the bus, "If all the raindrops", etc.), and I completely understand what information she is trying to communicate to me. I also find her very silly. For example, she likes to say something like "Books, bottle, Num-Num (pacifier), NIGHT NIGHT!!!" (her bedtime routine) over and over again with various weird voices and cracks herself up. She still likes to play a monster and "attack" you with the "wah-wah-wah-wah!!!!" (I found an emasculated Disney Prince in his underwear with only boots and a monster mask on the bed just yesterday). She adores reading books at bedtime, and we average 8 per night (when we finally turn off the light, she will still demand "more BOOKS!"). She is very clever, and her rudimentary efforts to work it with Sean and I are sweet (but that can only grow in sophistication, so I am mentally preparing).

For example:
Addie, after dinner, finishing her Oreo, asked for "More chockett (chocolate) peees, Mama?!".
I answered: "No, Addie, all done with dessert, time for bath."
Addie gave me a dirty look, turned to Sean, and with a mischievous grin asked HIM:
"More, chockett, peees, Papa!?"
I thought this stuff started at a later age, like 8 or 10 or something. Not at not-yet-two.

She likes to challenge fate, like hanging on a bar over a 6 foot drop at the playground. When she does stuff like this, she'll say "Whoa, Mama! Look at me, Mama, Whoa!!!" (she is also fast, which is why I got disapproving, judgemental looks from other parents at the playground Saturday-but, 1) this is my second child and I find that I generally do not hover over my children every second; and 2) I was pushing Gillian on a swing 5 feet away, Jeez!!). Sean commented just yesterday that Addie will be our base-jumper (God help me). She really is fearless. She will go bounding up to any old massive dog giggling with delight when she gets doggy kisses all over her face. So, very brave, with very little sense of caution. Bad combination. Gillian, on the other hand, is exceedingly cautious.

Addie also endears me with things like "Oh, BOY mama!" if I give her something she really likes (food, a toy, crayons, etc.) and on her first bike ride with Sean yesterday (the initial whining at being strapped in the seat and having a helmet clicked on turned to "Oh BOYYYY PAPAAAA!" when they started to go). That initial sensation was her kind of adrenaline rush (kindof like when she wants you to push her on the swing REALLY high ("More, push!!!! MORE!!!") and then decides to see what happens if she stops holding on ("whoa Papa!")).

So, we are getting to know her more. I know that sounds weird, but Gillian's personality is so huge, there isn't much room to notice the more subtle mellowness that is Addie (who is happy to play by herself for hours while Gillian demands constant detailed attention and recognition for everything she says and does). I love how different they are-Gillian is my sensitive (albeit bossy) philosopher, Addie is my carefree daredevil (who rarely, if ever, does what she is told to do by her bossy sister!). Both types of personality are fascinating to watch develop.

All that said, Addie is no pushover. She loves to torment her dramatic, delicate flower of a big sister. Sean told me the other day, Gillian had made a monumental Lego castle. Addie cheekily came over, stealthy even, and took a big block from one of the walls. Commence Gillian's full on meltdown, crying fit (complete with tears) and Addie taking off down the hallway with the block, making sure to look back enough to enjoy the pain and suffering she was inflicting on her sister. Gillian ran after her and took the block back, and Addie slyly acted like she would play with something else, and did the entire thing over again. In fact, she and Addie have experienced an astronomical increase in bickering and fighting. But then we have these gilded moments where they snuggle and kiss and talk about how much they love each other. Yesterday I asked Gillian why she and Addie fight so much, and she simply said "well, I think it's because we always want the same things". I thought that was pretty insightful and gave me great relief, because it wasn't the usual "because I HATE her!" or "because she is MEAN!" I am happy to know she realizes it is circumstantial, and not some attribute of inherent awfulness in Addie's personality.

I have the nerve to believe that these girls will be very close one day, and be each other's support network through the trials and tribulations of life. As crazy and exhausting as they are, they don't seem like either of them will ever be anyone's doormat. I'll take that any day, and the difficulties we will inevitably face because of their willfull spiritedness, than docile girls crippled by crushing insecurity. It is probably the hardest dynamic I have had to balance as a parent-how to keep my girls in line while cultivating strength and independence (and not beating down that spirit).

Osmosis

2011-04-27T12:52:00.000-05:00

Last night we were sitting at the dinner table. Addie turned around and started pointing at the letters on her high chair, and proceeded to count to 14. Sean and I thought it coincidentally sounded like the actual numbers until she reached 6 and it became clear she was really counting...and then we looked at her agape until she counted to 14 and then went back to 6. She didn't miss a single number or count them out of order up until then. We don't practice counting with her, Gillian doesn't practice counting with her....we have absolutely no idea where this came from, and never heard her do it before that moment. The only thing we can think is that she's getting it from Elmo's world. All I know is that Addie reached this point more than 4 months sooner than Gillian did. Maybe Addie will be the engineer of the family. You never know.

I went to get the video camera, but by the time I turned it on, she was done entertaining us with her tricks and was on to playing counting games with Gillian, which she had never done before tonight either. Huh.

Peace be with You

2011-04-25T21:01:00.000-05:00

I'm about to get all philosophical on you.

As I become a parent-and it is definitely a process of becoming and expanding your identity to include some weird, independent extension of yourself-I find myself in some swirling emotional vortex that will surely result in change within. There is this thought in my head that I have been praying for change, and as is his custom, God answers these requests in interesting ways-ways that often don't resemble what we thought the answers would look like at all. A couple of months ago, I felt really overwhelmed. Addie wasn't sleeping-STILL-and neither was I. I felt really unbalanced and adrift. I felt down and in a rut. I felt like I had to dig deep to find anything to give anyone, and I felt like everyone around me expected me to give until I was completely bone dry (looking back, the focus on "me" was exactly the problem). Obviously, when you are on your knees, you have a unique opportunity to look inside yourself...to identify the path forward. So, I turned toward the spiritual in a desperate way, which is exactly what I needed to do.

Call it serendipity or synchronicity, or whatever you want to...but there are no mistakes and no surprises in this life. We create our reality, completely, with every thought and every choice we make. Most importantly, the thoughts we choose to think. Those shape the manifestation of our circumstances, on the whole, our reality. So, I was stretched to breaking, and I google "how to deal with difficult relationships" because my work situation was seeming to turn for the worse again (but has fully corrected itself, I'm happy to report-or maybe, more truthfully, I corrected my vantage point), and mindfulness meditation popped up. I googled "Mindfulness Meditation, Chicago" and the Chicago Shambhala Center popped up. It so happens that this center, of which there are 170 in the entire world (and exactly one center in Chicago), is 4 blocks from my house. Coincidence? No, I made it so. I manifested the answer to the need I finally realized, and the Universe provided. It always does.

I registered for a beginning meditation class. I definitely felt I could benefit from getting ahold of the monkey chatter and self doubt and fear and worry that was like a tape loop branded into my brain. I can't think of anyone who wouldn't benefit, actually. It's like, I finally was worn down enough to see what I needed, I asked the right question, and was immediately provided the answer. Magic? Nope-just the Way Things Are. I was aligned for a second. I need to align all the time.

So, it is truly amazing the difference in my general wellbeing I am experiencing from less than a month of meditation. This book is a phenomenal "how to" guide and is written in non-newagey goodness for the Western-minded. I feel more able to focus on what someone is saying to me instead of being partly distracted by a never-ending list of things to do in my head, or the desire to keep things moving by interjecting...after I meditate I feel very grounded, and I notice the smallest things-the texture of the walls...the feeling of my feet on the floor, the smell of some distant bakery...how blissful the sun feels, or how exotically delicious an orange tastes. I know it sounds completely ridiculous, but somehow focusing on your breath for less than 30 minutes a day to ground you in the here and now allows you to realize the benefit of sloughing off all the unproductive thinking you do constantly and be right HERE. It's almost like you have heightened senses, but in an awesome way. Sayyong Mipham says your mind is like a wild horse that you can learn to control. It is like an oasis of calm to sit with yourself, and only yourself, a little while each day. The goal is to find that place, and try to be present in it each day. If you can focus on right now, you don't miss anything. You're not always planning or worrying about the future or reminiscing or regretting the past. Nothing that happens is good or bad. It just happens. Just like no thoughts are good or bad, they are just thoughts. To be able to acknowledge those thoughts as wayward children and not let them run the show (the thought-run show that ultimately results in short-lived joy, disappointment, or some other kind of suffering) is the goal. It's like the Tao te Ching says-Sit in the Center. I am learning to sit in the center. Like a rock in a stream, with thoughts and situations rushing by. I am constant. Everything else is illusion, or preconception.

I think back to the days of when I had all the time in the world for myself. I kept busy, but I was wide open. I loved fiercely, without apology, unhesitatingly. Even if it was a dangerous thing to do. I decided I would rather hurt than not experience the range of emotions that came from loving so completely. I created art constantly. I wrote even more often. I felt like I knew myself intimately. I was fully present in my travel through the internal and external world. I discovered Sufism and Taoism in 9th grade, was fully immersed in Therevada Buddhism by my freshman year of college, and I still subscribe completely to those philosophies, but I never actively meditated. I was wide open and in touch without realizing it because I had the luxury of time and never ending intense emotional experiences to keep me wide open. As I have gotten older and more stable-financially and emotionally-I have become more closed and distracted. Where I use to live life on the fly and heart exposed, I have gotten into the business of taking care of things, day in and day out. Taking care of things-planning to take care of them, actively taking care of them, wishing I had taken care of them better-is the ultimate distraction.

Somehow I need to slough off the distraction. And there is so much of it. I had become chronically distracted. I chose that-and it's easy to with smartphones and the barrage of technology infiltrating just about everything...intruding on the little strands of quiet we ever allow ourselves. I want to stop all this struggling against the tide and submit, be immersed in my life. The idea of just letting go is so wonderful. I just needed a vehicle to help me learn how to do that. And with letting go is acceptance of what is. And what is, when seen through our truth, has no judgement, or preconception, but ultimate compassion. Of my children-I would have endless patience and joy if I was able to exist in each moment as it manifests with them. And for my husband-I would be grateful for every breath we have together, would not take a second for granted, if I could get into the present, fully.

So there it is-Reflection on a Tuesday.

Away

2011-04-21T22:32:00.000-05:00

Amanda and I abandoned our 4 children and two husbands and went to NYC for the weekend. We talked about it a while back and decided we deserved a little break from the mayhem of family life, and chose last weekend because my birthday was on Sunday. We both had people we wanted to catch up with. We left around 3 on Thursday, trashy magazines on hand to make the flight go by faster. We got in and considered buses and trains (multiple) for $2 but decided with all our bags and since we're grownups and work hard, we could take a car service straight to her cousin's doorstep in the East Village. We got there around 7 and I got to meet Amanda's cousin David, who is awesome. He suggested this Thai/fusion place (Yaffa Cafe) and we had great HEALTHY food and then went to a bar with an outdoor patio to have a couple of beers and hang out. We went back to David's place and crashed. Let me say for one moment how his place was TINY (like 300 sq ft tiny) and the rent is $2400/month. Obviously, location is key, but Yikes! That said, it is very well done, and the furnishings and decor are very modern and sparse (no clutter). He did a lot with his small space, and we were happy to have a pull out sofa to crash on. We did notice that once we got in the front door of the building we knew we were almost to his place by the thigh burn we got on the last step on the 4th flight of stairs :-)

Friday we woke up leisurely (My grand thoughts about getting tons of sleep are laughable-I needed a vacation after my vacation) at 7 am (1 hout past my usual 5 am central wake time) and meandered to the corner cafe for some coffee. I said "large" and they delivered.

We decided to to the site seeing that day since all of our friends and David had to work. We walked a good way. My Type A Google Earth estimate is about 6.5 miles, which pretty much justified anything we wanted to eat, if we needed justification. We decided to go to the Brooklyn Bridge, but first walked through China Town and looked in all the cluttered little shops for a few little trinkets we wanted to bring home for the kids.

We found Gillian a little silk kimono-esque nightgown and a fan, Addie a little drum, some $1 animae purses for each of them, and a little silver charm for me; AJ and Will got a kitty with waving arm; Amanda got a sitting Buddha to meditate with. Then we headed to the bridge. It was a nice view of the city.

We meandered more and enjoyed the intermittent green space (Chicago has a lot more of that, by the way), hit an old church that made me wonder what it thought of the insanity that grew up around it and it's 300 year old cemetery, and walked by Ground Zero. I hadn't seen Ground Zero since 2003, and it is impressive how ambitious the new site is.

From there, we walked to Battery Park to catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty (just because) but had no intention of standing in the Very Long Line to go see her up close. In fact, I have been to New York many, many times, but have never done touristy things. I was too busy being in a band, so this was different and a nice pace. So seeing the Statue of Liberty was kind of humbling, even from a distance. Because, wow, at some point, most of us who have lineage of a couple hundred years in this country have ancestors whose hopes and dreams of life here started on Ellis Island.

Anyway, after that we headed out of Battery park, grabbed lunch at a very out of the way French bistro and relaxed with great conversation, some wine, and excellent food. After that we headed back to home base, strolling through Soho and did some shopping on the way back. I was pretty good and only bought Gillian a couple of hair adornments at this place that would have been the Happiest Place She Ever Visited if I had brought her along. I mean. Walls of necklaces and earrings, aisles of headbands-beaded, feathered, you name it....rows of rings in every shape, size, color... and it was all very reasonably priced. I bought her a little Tiara hair clip that looks precious when she has a bun in.

Here she is with her China Town and Soho gifts (Sean was not happy when she insisted on wearing her tiara to school Monday and Tuesday with her "beautiful ballerina bun", but I disagree. She will probably spend years of her life dressing like a bum. May as well enjoy it!).

Overall, this was our walkabout path:

So, we got back to David's 10 hours after we left, and Amanda, David and I went to a great little Italian (authentic) restaurant two doors down from his place called Via Della Pace. More wine, more great company and great food.

Then we headed to Brooklyn to visit Gerard at his bar Branded Saloon. Gerard is one of my oldest, dearest friends. He and I dated in high school, but have known eachother since 7th grade. We have played music together forever, and were inseperable in high school and college. It felt like it always does, even though I haven't physically seen him since Gillian was born. We picked up like we saw eachother the night before. I absolutely adore his partner Kris, who he has been with for 8 years, and who keeps him grounded and safe. Gerard was busy running a business, but we enjoyed some awesome country western music and had a chance to hang out later in the evening with him and Kris. I am convinced that this is the right place for Gerard because it is a performace space for live music and gives him a canvas for his creativity... we had so much fun singing like it was 1995 and visiting.

(we totally queened it up singing "I wanna dance with somebody" by Whitney Houston, and in his usual fashion (which made me laugh (hard) and miss him even more) he improvised the lyrics "smoke a little crack, do a little smack... with somebody named Bobby!").

I am really, really proud of Gerard. And I was reminded of how blessed I am to have such amazing friends! We got back to David's around 4 am after a precarious cab ride (full of negotiation and haggling with the driver) back to the E. Village from Brooklyn (Prospect Heights, which might as well been outer space the way people acted that it was so far away from the city (it was about a 20 min cab ride)). So much for my ideas of getting caught up on sleep.

We crashed, but I woke promptly Saturday morning at 7 am. Apparently, I can't even sleep in when I want to sleep in! ARG! I had made plans to meet some old high school friends at the little cafe on the corner at 9 am. It later occured to me in the quiet cafe that no one in New York does anything before 11 or 12, with good reason if you are staying up till 4 am. Anyway, it was FANTASTIC to see Navaz and Tania, a seriously old crew from high school. Amanda was a good sport and came along, but David chose sleep (David was the smart one). Aside from the kitty coffee

we had breakfast and mimosas (hair of the dog). Tania and Navaz worked with me at Taco Bell when I was in high school. Tania lived two houses down from us on Versailles Court in good old Cape Coral. It's funny how people from your past remember who you have always been, and we cut up like always. One thing is for sure, when newer friends meet your old friends, they learn a whole lot about who you are under your layers of responsibility. Navaz has a son about Addie's age and Tania is a professional musician. It makes me happy that they are doing so well, and have peace in their lives. Amanda went back to David's to bring him some coffee, and I stayed and hung out a while longer. Tania and I met up with David and Amanda to wait for one of David's friends (Nate) and by about noon Amanda, David, Nate, and I decided to do brunch at a typical diner. I opted for a salad and fries (balancing what I wanted and what I needed :-) and had such interesting conversation (like David musing that Nate's mom's "vagina was like a Freeway" because she had 3 children in 11 months). Anyway, then David, Amanda and I headed to the Met (during which we saw Julia Stiles on the street-nice to see that no one was hounding her in NYC) to see the Alexander McQueen exhibit, only to find out it hadn't opened yet :-( , but we walked through anyway and I got to see some good paintings from some of my favorites (Miro, Klee, Picasso, etc.). After that, we got more coffee and headed back to David's place to take showers and get ready for the evening.

Amanda was super excited to see one of her oldest friends, Heidi, that she has known since 1st grade. Heidi suggested a french bistro called Casimir. So we met there and lierally were there for 3 hours which went by like a blink.

One thing I noticed about this restaurant and NYC in general is that eating is much more an event than other cities I have visited. No one pressures you to hurry, and so in true European style, we hung out and joked and ate and drank leisurely. Heidi is a beautiful, charismatic girl who, like David, has a high powered advertising job. While I think it would be exciting and fun to live in NYC and travel the world doing work with high-end clients (her biggest account is Google Chrome right now), I would have done that 10 years ago, but not now. It's strange how life does that...I used to get panic attacks at the idea of settling down-getting married, having babies. The old me-the free spirited me that was spontaneous, identified with art and music more than motherhood and ever in the world being scientist-she would totally dig living in New York, travelling at the drop of a hat, going out every weekend... but I appreciate my quiet these days, and wouldn't trade these babies for all the worldliness on earth. I couldn't spend the money on rent, eating out, and transportation required to live in Manhattan...it's a lifestyle choice. I would have loved to have done as a younger person, and I truly adore the city, but I like it in small quantities. Anyway, after a dinner that included multiple bottles of wine, my first try of raw oysters (I know, what planet have I been living on??? I love sushi, and don't know what my hang up has been about oysters all these years, particularly when my husband LOVES them), Duck, and dessert (TO DIE FOR) we went to a swanky bar called Summit. Or maybe it wasn't swanky, but it was expensive and obviously only frequented by locals. So this weekend, I didn't limit myself to birthday cake-I added birthday shots at a bar I would usual not go to. In fact it was so swanky and cool that it looked abandoned from the outside...but when you opened the door, it was such a scene (insert eyeroll). I mean, who else would have a link on their website of "cocktail porn"? (for the record, I drank the fab Charmagne's Star, which luckily was delicious since the bar tab for 4 of us (Heidi's boyfriend joined us) was probably $200 (3 rounds of drinks-that's it)). One thing I loved was David's green flannel (which was probably designer but didn't look it) in the sea of designer everything. Really.

At midnight, Paul, Heidi, David, and Amanda sung me happy birthday and we did a round of shots (not sure what it was, but it was good). I have never had a $14 birthday shot before, so it was a new experience! For me, talking to one of Amanda's best friends was amazing-I got a glimpse into who she was before she was a mom and a wife, and a doctor. I liked what I saw. It was also nice to get to know Paul a little(who is also in advertising and is from Sweden). I made a mental note of how Heidi had mentioned Paul taking her to a party of what she called Beautiful People (all scandanavian, all with impeccable skin and hair, all meticulously dressed, freshed faced, and motivated) and what that was like, and my head nearly exploded from the many levels of Inception-like tiers of keeping up with the Joneses one could get caught up in NYC. Even our gorgeous, high powered hostess could feel a pang of that. At that moment, my relief at the idea that I could go home at the end of the weekend intensified. That night we got in around 2 I suppose. We crashed out, and woke up Sunday morning at 7:30 (that was the best I could do, it seems, even when I don't have anyone to wake me up). This time we went to another diner and ate like we have never eaten (there were probably 12 plates of food on the table at one point). There were carbs aplenty to take the edge off.

We decided to walk around Times Square because I hadn't been since the pedestrian lane was put in (which has cut contaminants/air pollution in HALF in the area!). It was like it has always been, except this time I wasn't 18, with Gerard, with a 40 oz beer in a bag (well, that was the first time I saw Times Square, and it was scruffier, and it was nighttime). There was a Disney-world like Toys R Us that had multiple levels, including a two story Barbie house filled with all things Barbie you could buy (and a ferris wheel).

Amanda and I felt the need to shop for the kids, so we got a few little things for them. Then we got some Jamba Juice, so dehydrated and sapped of nutrients from our drinking blitz we were. We got back to David's, the Limo picked us up at 2, and we went off to Newark airport (which I will *never* fly into or out of again from Manhattan-$64!!). I got back to our humble home in Chicago at 7pm ish, opened the door to a supiciously quiet house. I walked to the back of the house, and Gillian sang me a amped version of "Happy Birthday"-Addie and Sean joining, while they presented a candle-ridden birthday cake they had made that afternoon (the first Sean has ever baked, to my knowledge). Through my sappy tears, standing in my dining room, I knew for sure that as mundane as my little life is, I wouldn't change it for anything else in the whole world. This was the best birthday EVER (and I love you Amanda!).

Nightmares

2011-04-14T12:30:00.000-05:00

We've had a little visitor in the middle of the night quite a bit of late. It seems that Gillian is drumming up some doozies and even with the hall light and a nightlight she gets a little freaked out when she wakes up in a quiet, sleepy house. I guess I started to notice this trend a couple of months ago when she called me into her room and asked about "that black thing on the side of the window". I pulled up the shade and showed her that it was the window frame.

Our fat, lazy, roly poly cat induces near hysteria if she has the audacity to jump on the bed (or even walk by Gillian's bedroom door) at night, imagined to be some terrible monster of mythical proportions. I spent 15 minutes explaining that Booger is many things, but Lazy is the #1 thing, and that in itself would preclude her from doing such ambitious things as biting a little girl's face off, for example. I started thinking, as I was demonstrating on Gillian's hand how hard Booger bites when you give her those spankings she likes, that maybe I shouldn't be doing that. But, it ended all the paranoid talk with laughter, which is probably as good as it is going to get (I later showed her physically this phenomenon-Booger, in her usual fashion, enjoyed her light spanking and then bit me with little love bites, then licked my hand).

Then there was the "bad dream" about the alligator that started the alligator fear phase. And there was the snake who came in the house and he made us start a fire and then he ate it and it made his tummy hurt and so he went away (to which I replied, "isn't that a GOOD dream? We made his fire so spicy it made him go away with a tummy ache?!!)... I think most of these are kind of cute, but the second one on this video clip is just not cute or funny at all. Because God knows it probably happens to someone in this world every day.

So, the rule is that Gillian can always come to us at night when she's scared as long as she doesn't startle us out of REM sleep with a dramatic tantrum. She has been pretty fantastic about just climbing into our bed or whispering to one if us that she's scared and asking one of us to go sleep in her room. The dreams she describes are perfectly weird enough to be dreams and not an excuse to come sleep with us ("I dreamed this bad cat was really a dog who could change into a cat or a dog whenever he wanted").

As an aside: ever since we decided to tow the hard line with night waking with Addie, she has happily slept through the night. Silly us for not doing it much sooner.

Wake up call

2011-04-09T14:52:00.002-05:00

It's been a crazy couple of months. Well, crazier. The newest stress (beyond worrying about my livelihood while being used as a political pawn) is my diagnosis of squamous cell carcinoma. Yeah-sobering. You get pretty humbled pretty quick when someone tells you you have cancer, even if it is a non-threatening looking little spot on your arm.

So, here it is-Squamous Cell Carcinoma (lovingly referred to in the literature as "SCC"). More specifically, it's a form of SCC called Bowen's Disease. I have had this spot for 6 or 7 years, so I am hoping it isn't too advanced. I guess I thought it was eczema. No excuse for a person with as much public health training as I have. Good thing I asked for a dermatology referral. My primary care doctor didn't think much of this thing a couple years ago when I had 5 moles removed. This time the specialist removed 2 precancerous lesions (actinic keratoses-one on my face and another next to the SCC lesion), two benign moles, and biopsied the SCC lesion. They are excising it next Monday, which is a few weeks since I got the diagnosis. Thursday I leave for New York City to spend a long weekend celebrating my 37th birthday with friends. Ironic. I pray daily for my father's disease genes (massive, instantaneous heart attack) and not my mothers' (my brother looked just like her and they both had internal-make-you-die cancer).

There's nothing like a cancer diagnosis (no matter what kind) to give you a sobering reality check about your life. Like, my little life is as fragile as a fall leaf. God doesn't HAVE to let me be here among the rest of you. He doesn't HAVE to let me watch my children grow up and become smart, kind, beautiful young women. This is all icing, and I should try to meditate on that every day.

And I am angry at myself. My stupid 16 year old self that use to try against hope to get a tan, laying out in the sun, burning after burning after burning my fragile, pale skin trying to be beautiful... and I am mad at my parents who should have been slathering me with sun block every weekend when we went to the beach. I can't even count the times I remember peeling blistered skin off my nose and cheeks and the part of my hair. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID. I will be a better parent than they were. I will make sure my girls have hats and cover ups and high SPF sunblock. Especially Addie, who has beautiful, porcelain skin. Probably how mine would have looked if someone had been smart enough to protect it.

I am freaking out a little. I am trying to keep myself calm. I promise myself that even though it took me almost 37 years to get to a dermatologist to have a full body check of every blemish on my freckly, moley skin, I will be going twice a year from now on to get a scan. I am praying that this is the only diagnosis of cancer I ever get, and am grateful that it is NOT melanoma. I am putting out into the universe that this lesion is localized and has not metastasized anywhere and will be 100% removed after April 11, never to return.

Tidbit

2011-04-02T22:26:00.000-05:00

Date with Gillian

2011-03-28T07:14:00.000-05:00

Sean and I had such fun on Mardi Gras at the fais do-do that we decided to make the monthly Cajun dance part of our routine. We weren't sure how we wanted to manage it this time...initially we thought just one of us and Gillian...then just both of us. Then I suggested maybe leaving Addie home to go to bed and bringing Gillian. At the last minute we got a sitter and decided to do just that.

We hyped it up. Gillian getting us all to herself-getting to stay up late. She was so excited. We fed Addie and got her in the bath, Angie arrived and we snuck out the back. Angie is with Addie four days a week now (from 730-930 in the mornings and all day Friday), so it's not traumatic when she's the sitter, and it is liberating to know she knows how to put Addie to bed (as far as the routine goes).

Gillian wore a ridiculous 1st communion dress/"Princess gown" Monica from the Cajun Dance Association had found for her in a thrift store for $1 last summer, and decided she wanted her hair in a bun. Before that we had done our nails and I had curled my hair for the occasion (with the curlers that I have had for years and that Gillian used before me-this was my first time!). We went out to Chili's because it was easy and because we all wanted burgers and fries (their blackbean burger is YUM!). We had to wait awhile, but the entire time, Gillian was absolutely delightful. We got seated and they now have these little games at the table and we all had fun playing them together. We talked and joked and laughed. No one was fighting, no one was arguing, no one was trying to escape their seat, NO ONE WAS WHINING. Oh, it was like an oasis of calm and peace, but WITH our children. Heavenly. And we were truly enjoying every second of our date with our little girl, who it seems, is quite civilized and awesome when she's not vying for attention around her sister. I wondered "would she be like this most of the time if she had been our only child?" Obviously, at the end of the day, I think they will love having eachother, but the difference was something to see.

We headed over to the dance and Gillian recognized Monica and they danced pretty early on. Gillian was so sweet in her little dress and her bun. She and I danced, she and Sean danced, she danced as elegantly as she could muster around Sean and I when we danced. I promise that night and watching her at the dance will be emblazoned on my brain forever, as a symbol of THIS MOMENT in her life. When I have the priviledge of being there for her first dance at her wedding, I will remember her last Saturday night in her four-year-old glory-dancing and twirling, and laughing. Even now, I get a little teary thinking about my beautiful little girl being such a beautiful little girl-there was not a single person who didn't smile watching her in her innocence and freedom. I bet lots of them were parents of a not-so-little girl, remembering a special moment, a memory, that they made a mental note to lock in their repository for posterity. I had a wonderful weekend with my girls.

Update on sleep

2011-03-28T07:10:00.000-05:00

Since making our decision about sleep training, and choosing to not go to Addie when she yells for us at night, we have had 4 nights where she has woken up (for literally 5 minutes or less) once between 2-5am. Two of those were the non-serious-fake crying "Mama...Mama...OUT...BOTTLE!...OUT!" and one was real crying. Two nights I didn't wake up at all, and I assume she didn't either. All four nights she has slept until almost 8 am, a full hour and a half longer than she does when we were giving her a bottle in the middle of the night. We should have done this a long time ago.

Sleepless in Chicago

2011-03-24T06:30:00.000-05:00

Adelaide is a hard baby. I have tried to justify her behavior with illness or teething, but she is just tough. She has always been tough. She has never slept well, which means we have been pretty well sleep deprived for going on two years. The night waking and misery is what prompted us to swaddle her and put her on her stomach at 3 weeks old (Yes, agreed-Oh, the HORROR!). At least then she (and we) could get up to 3 hours of sleep at a time (I was laying next to her until she was 4 months old, and could side-lay nurse her).

She has always been a very orally fixated child, which is why in desperation we turned to the pacifier (Gillian never cared for them). Otherwise, we are forever fishing things out of her mouth that have somehow miraculously NOT choked her to death up to this point (knock on wood). And I mean everything-balls of cat hair; buttons; dimes; sand, cigarette butts and glass at the beach; mulch; trash; bottle caps; tiny polly pocket clothing; shells; guitar picks-you name it and she wants to eat it. Everything except food, anyway. She is a terrible eater, which is why she drinks 30 ounces of milk between bedtime and morning. Or maybe we created that pattern by giving her milk all night.

Oh, the endless chicken or egg second guessing... I am convinced that the pacifier at least contributed to this because when she was little and it fell out of her mouth she would wake up looking for it. And then we swooped in like superheros with a warm cozy boobie or bottle when she cried because it made her go back to sleep like magic. Well, you never know exactly when is the time to start making them tough it out and not go to them when they cry out for you at night. So, we just never stopped, and we still get up and give Addie bottles twice during the night. Except now she doesn't want to go back to sleep. We simply can't deal with it anymore, so we are going to start over beginning tonight.

We are thinking we have to night train her, so I am not looking forward to the next few nights. Tonight it started with cutting the agonizingly long bedtime routine of bottle and books and snuggling from 45 minutes to 20 (she demands books for days, then you turn off the light, and she knows that means it's almost bedtime, and she ALWAYS then asks for more milk, even if she doesn't want it, in an effort to delay the inevitable bedtime, then she writhes and struggles when you walk her over to put her in her crib). So, I ignored the pleas for more milk and more books and snuggling, gave her a squirming, whiny little self a kiss and put her in her bed with a sippy cup of water for the night. She was not happy, but she only cried for a minute or two (so, score for us-tonight anyway). We are going to have to accept that when she wakes up yelling for us it probably will escalate to screaming and crying and disturb everyone in this house and possibly the neighbors downstairs. Hopefully this will only happen for a few nights. The next thing to slough off is the pacifier, but we'll do this dependence intervention thing in stages...

Addie likes to channel Sir Edmund Hillary on a regular day, tempting fate by scaling everything, all the time. She stands up on the back of the couch, she tries climbing onto the fireplace mantle by pulling the piano bench over, she climbs from the floor to the kitchen table top and today I turned around she was standing on the windowsill, precariously. Thank God our windows open from the top, or she would most certainly do a free fall through the screen to an unfortunate end this summer when the window gives against her weight. She falls a lot and there is much kissing of booboos.

I am going to have her checked for allergies when she's two also. It is amazing how much of her life she has spent congested, snotty, and generally uncomfortable (though inexplicably cheerful through a good bit of it). This physical discomfort has led to a great deal of attachment to me and neediness. That is not such a problem with one child, but with two that are needy, things get challenging. Like, today, I couldn't put her down. She would cry and cry and cry-while Gillian was persistently demanding I play princesses with her (so we did that with a "giant monster baby" who lived on my lap-see? Isn't Gillian a resourceful, pragmatic girl?). And it would be one thing if that was unusual, but it's not.

I could go on-about the angry faces she makes or how she yells in protest when she doesn't get her way, or the tantrums. Gillian was an absolute cake-walk in comparison (a scary thought, to be sure, given how strong-willed and head strong she is). At 2o months, Gillian slept from 7 pm to 8 am-13 solid, glorious hours. She didn't climb on things. She didn't put things in her mouth. She was generally very sweet in her disposition and did not throw many tantrums. She didn't really eat well (probably the tonsils/adenoids), but other than that she was pretty easy.

I guess all of this makes it hard to truly treasure our time and I feel pretty awful about it-but sick, belligerent, sleep deprived babies are not inherently lovable (though she has her frequent moments that have me falling in love with her *that* much more). At this age, I wished I could stretch my days with Gillian for eternities, and I am hoping when the warm weather arrives Addie and I also have awesome and special moments on our walks and trips to the beach and playgrounds. I hate feeling less connected with Addie, and I don't know if it's because she and I don't have much time to bond alone, or if its part of the physical stuff I am mentioning, or just the second kid syndrome. She is definitely way more independent, so that contributes... and I am grateful for the independence, but maybe her not needing me as much on a play level (though she is certainly needy on the *sick-and-want-mama* level) makes me feel less bonded.

That is not to say that Addie is not sweet, or silly, or precious at all. She is absolutely hilarious, and is always making us laugh. She is very sweet (albeit sometimes she is compensating for hurting someone), and is generous with kisses and hugs. She's a gifted conversationalist and does the cutest little head dance when she likes a song (she can definitely groove and shake what her mama gave her with the best of them, too). Part of all these feelings might be the cabin fever of late winter setting in or how extendedly dreary and cold it has been-hard for a Florida girl.

****

Added Thursday (day after this post was written): Addie woke up once hollering for me, and did so for 5 minutes at 2 am and went back to sleep. I am pretty sure it can't be this easy, but I'll be greedy and hope it is!

Bye Bye Boobies

2011-03-20T21:23:00.000-05:00

Addie is done. We made it to 20 months, which I am proud of even though I wanted to go longer. It is tough trying to keep that going when you're away from home 48 hours a week. So, it's over. If this is the last baby I ever nurse, it makes me incredibly sad. I cherish those moments of the most intimate bonding I can imagine.

Classroom

2011-03-18T18:47:00.000-05:00

I took last Friday off to do a craft with Gillian's class. I was a little intimidated by the idea of 22 gregarious 3, 4, and 5 year olds since I have never taught a group like that, per se. In my usual fashion, I bought everything I needed on Wednesday, and did nothing to prepare until Thursday night, when I could stay up late because I wasn't working the next day. I had googled "mouse paper bag puppet" because I had this idea about reading Gillian's class If You Give a Mouse a Cookie and having a theme for art and snack around that. Unfortunately, the mouse puppets I found online left a lot to be desired, so I created my own template-borrowing a little, of course. It had to be cute, it had to have few enough pieces that even the littlest kids could manage the project, it had to be economical for me (<$10 for everything), and it had to be functional. Typical, but this took a much longer time to cut out all the little pieces than I expected. I started prepping at 9:30 pm, and finished at 3 am. The nice thing about the bag hand puppets is that all the little pieces tuck nicely into the bag.

I slept 3.5 hours, and then I got up, got the girls fed and ready for school, took Gillian to school, and came back and baked 4 dozen cookies (for snack time-you know give a MOUSE a COOKIE). Gillian was not aware that I was coming back to her class. I arrived a little before 9:30 am (the scheduled arrival time) and the kids were doing circle time and acting out various animals. It was adorable. I have never had a chance to witness a regular day at her classroom, so this was a bonus. They all went to the bathroom, during which time her teacher and I knocked over all the chairs in the classroom (which was attributed to a naughty little leprechaun-they obviously had a lot of fun with leprechauns the day before, which was St. Patrick's Day). The kids came back in marvelling at the destruction the leprechaun had left behind and put all their chairs back where they went. Then it was story time.

I sat down, all these precious little faces eager to absorb every word of the story (except Sebastian, Gillian's arch nemesis, who apparently never listens to anything, ever, and gets sent home on a regular basis for doing things like calling his teacher a "big, fat LIAR!"). And we read the story...I asked them the sorts of questions I ask Gillian during a story ("why do you think he did that?" or "what color is that crayon", or "why do you think the mouse had all that energy to mop the whole house?"), so it wasn't unnatural or anything. I have a four year old. I get that age. And I got to be with them on their best behavior because everyone behaves better at school than at home. It was so much fun to read the story, but then it was craft time.

Everyone took their seats, and I passed out the little brown bags to everyone and told them to dump the contents out. Ms. Woods (one of G's teachers) pinned a mouse to the wall as an example, we passed out the glue sticks, and I walked them through the steps of gluing on different parts. I told them they could make the mouse however they wanted (they could make the eyes be crossed or one up and one down for silliness, or put the whiskers on their bellies, or whatever)...and the teachers and I helped kids who were having a little trouble. The oldest kids finished quickly, following the example, not waiting for my prompts. The little ones brought up the rear, but everyone had a blast and loved the product. I took the picture, below, because they were so excited and it was such fun!

Then it was cookie time, which was even more exciting. They approved of the chocolate chip cookies heartily, and then after that was "free play". Gillian was asking if I could stay longer, so I stayed through free play and had lots of fun playing Swan Princess with Gillian and a few of her classmates (God love Daniel, who was dressed to the nines in a tutu and had a magic wand), when Gillian was singing Swan Lake at the top of her lungs, and then we colored and played tea party... then Ms. Woods asked if I wanted to do regular story time before lunch, so I read another book. Even though Gillian pleaded for me to stay and eat lunch with her, I decided to leave because I was starving and exhausted.

This experience made me even more appreciative of teachers, and what they do every day to give our kids a sense of normalcy and routine. That is probably the only place some kids get that, though maybe less children have family issues in a private school. But still. I honestly had a wonderful time and thought that teaching would be so rewarding and hard. Just like parenting. So, props to all you educators. I honor you and am in awe of you. Thank you, really, for everything you do. I can't wait to come back and do it again (I was told I have an open invitation!).

Timing

2011-03-11T21:26:00.000-06:00

Gillian was born mid-September. In Ilinois, the cut off for school is September 1st. That is why she didn't go to preschool until she was almost 4 (preschool starts at age 3); the child has to be that age by the 1st of September. So, when she is eligible for kindergarten, she will be nearly 6 years old. This worries me in a socially focused preschool where my kid loves academics.

{{I will preface the following paragraph with the acknowledgement that my child is no prodigy or genius of any kind, and that most of the kids in the circles we run in have an equal level of motivation in learning The Basics; this is purely about how we struggle with her starting school a full year late, how we struggle to back off and pipe down and let teachers get on with educating our children, and relinquishing control of who will shape the way she approaches school learning...}}

I have tried not to push academics with Gillian too much, but she got the LeapFrog letter and word factory movies when she was 2 as gifts, loved them, and absorbed them like a sponge. She wanted to write letters and learn the sounds of the letters, so she learned them. Now, I assume by osmosis (because last summer when I saw her writing numbers they were all kind of weird), she is writing her numbers perfectly up to 20-this I saw for the first time last weekend (I never saw her practice, so that was unexpected). She learned to count to 100 by listening to me count while I tickle her back before bed (this was only so she would know what the end was so I didn't get stuck doing it for days, but she was listening a lot harder than we thought!). So, she is handy with drawing and with writing, probably because she likes getting positive feedback about her drawings and writing (and she is an extroverted attention glutton, so she likes to do things to impress people, especially Mama and Papa).

The reason I am telling you this is because I have real concerns about how she is going to behave with another 16 months between her and kindergarten where she will learn to write her letters, spell her name, and count (all of which she knew before starting preschool last summer). I would love to hear your stories if you have older children who were in this position at Gillian's age-what wisdom can you impart with educational prep? Gillian is no cakewalk on a regular day, and is exceedingly difficult when bored. So, if she already knows the basics of kindergarten, I hope the curriculum can meet her needs.

This came up because I had a parent-teacher conference last week. THAT is weird. (that I'm a parent and have parent-teacher conferences). Anyway, I asked them what they do to keep children engaged. I assume these days, like Gillian, more and more kids are coming to preschool knowing colors, shapes, letters, numbers, how to spell some words, like their names and those of their family members (technology, preschool-TV, family structure, mutually exclusive gender roles in parenting becoming less important while spending more quality time with kids becomes more important, etc., certainly has a hand in why this is so)....so how does a teacher keep the kids learning? How do they keep the kids from being annoying, distracting pains in the butt when they are trying to teach kids whose ages range from just-turned-3 to almost 6 in one preschool classroom? Right now, Gillian is learning really important things like days of the week and months of the year (and being a "little Mama" to the littlest kids in her class). Her teacher said they pace the kids with what they teach them their first and second year of preschool. She said that they have to be careful not to push too much, because preschool is really more about learning to share, to be responsible, to play well, to make friends, etc. She and the other assistant teacher said they do try to work with individual kids on things to challenge them. All I could think was "these women are ROCKSTARS!". Teachers are seriously underworshipped in this country. They mold these impressionable little brains. It's an awesome responsibility!

I believe Gillian is socially immature and needs to be in preschool. She has grown unbelieveably in the past 10 months of being at NCA (first for camp, then for preschool). She use to be so shy that she would refuse to approach other children at the playground (only wanted to play with adults-mostly ME), and now she makes friends everywhere-even when we're sitting at McDonald's. I will definitely avoid making Gillian some science experiment where learning becomes stressful-my dad made me his experiment while in school for education, and I spent my entire academic life desperate to please him. I also have a very warped need of striving for academic perfection, which makes school stressful at times. I don't want Gillian to be a slacker, but I also don't want her to be a 9th grader feeling the pressure of college (like a work colleague's daughter who is at a college prep high school in the city that seems likely to give herself ulcers over maintaining her 4.0).

When we filled out our school paperwork for 2011-2012, we considered trying to see if Gillian could start kindergarten a year early quite a bit, but everyone (particularly Nonni, the elementary school teacher who retired after 30 years in the classroom) told us we would be sorry in the long run if we put her in the position of being the youngest kid in the classroom. So, we will see how she does in this classroom another year.

Addie Addie RAH-RAH!!!!

2011-03-04T12:09:00.001-06:00

Say "when"....

2011-02-28T06:38:00.000-06:00

I have taken for granted all along that we would have a third child. "Maybe even a fourth!", I would exclaim in moments of wild optimism. I have a little problem with allowing the reality of any situation to rain on my plans, even if my plans, obvious to everyone but me, would strain me to a breaking point. But A and I were talking last night about how three (she also has two) would affect the financial outlook of our families and it got my mind going. I processed well into the hours when I should have been sleeping (hence the very little sleep I got last night). I decided that I AM GOING TO BE OK WITH TWO CHILDREN if that's what is best for us in the long run.

Wow. I typed it, so it must be true. It is really REALLY hard for me to accept that. Because I had just always thought we would have more.

If we were independently wealthy, or if I was a stay at home mom this would not enter my mind. If we lived in the same city as family, having backup would make the decision easier. But...there aren't federal jobs in my field where our family is.

Sooo, let me explain why the money matters...

When Gillian was a baby, we paid about a couple hundred dollars a week for her nanny to come three days/wk. That was a lot, but not bad at all when you consider what a lot of people pay for daycare. It was that cheap because we split the costs with another family (nannyshare) for two of the days to 1) make it more affordable and 2) to give Gillian some socialization. When Addie came along, we added Fridays with a Loyola student so Sean could have a 5 day work week, since everything he was producing at work was selling. That bumped the weekly output to about an extra hundred a week still nannysharing (2 kids, 4 days a week-this is VERY inexpensive if you are out of touch with what current childcare costs are). When Gillian started preschool, Addie still needed a nanny (that we still share), and we added 2 hours a day 4 days a week so Sean can have help in the mornings when he's getting G ready for school. So, now we pay out about the same each week for Addie because we are sharing every hour of care we use PLUS over $600 a month for Gillian's school. That adds up to about a couple thousand a month to have childcare for Addie and school for Gillian. That's a pretty nice chunk of our monthly income. It's more than our payment on our mortgage.

So, I was talking to A, I started thinking through what it would cost us to have that third child taken care of while paying for our girls to go to preschool and school. And I had never considered what that would mean before.

Well, here's what it would look like: $28,000 a year for one in K-8, one in preschool, and one at home with a nanny. OUCH.

That reality, and my desire to rationalize my decision that two is plenty given the finances, made me start to think of what other pros I could consider to make myself ok with two kids. Well, there's the fact that every family discount to everything on earth is made for families of four. There's the fact that we wouldn't have to buy a bigger car. We wouldn't have to worry about living in a 3 bedroom condo because the girls could both have their own room. I could actually stop hoarding my annual leave to supplement my short paid maternity leave and start going on a couple nice vacations every year and not sweat taking long weekends every now and then. I could, within less than 1.5 years, start working a reasonable schedule 8 hour schedule five days a week that could get me home in time to pick the girls up from school with a brief (cheap) 1-hour stint in aftercare. This schedule would allow me to go to the gym regularly since I would not have to leave my house at 5 am as well. I could also truly have the option of retirement at 45 if we weren't pressed to provide for yet another child ("retirement" being from government service. I have big plans for becoming a nurse practitioner, as you may recall, so it would be a career change, not a retirement per se).

Then, there is the emotional and developmental benefits. With two, Sean and I more effectively manage bedtime, sickness, meltdowns, discipline, and homework. We could give more attention to each child. We wouldn't be run as ragged. We would have more quality time if we weren't constantly intervening with behavior issues between siblings if there are fewer siblings. We could afford for the girls to do more things they (and we) want to do (dance classes, music lessons, etc.). We would never have to buy a new wardobe and gender-appropriate toys for the inevitable son who would come along. We would have more breathing room and more attention to our relationship, and there just isn't much of that right now. It literally makes me tear up when I think of the attention Addie wouldn't get with a third child. And, more importantly, the more independent they get, the more of my own life I could get back. You know, doing things for myself... weekend trips for fun, lessons-music, art, dance.... that kind of thing.

There is the option of having another child when Addie is in kindergarten too, so then we would be financially about where we are now, but that might not look so good by then. I'm not sure if we could go back to the sleep deprivation and exhaustion of another baby once we have kids out of diapers and in school. Addie still wakes up 1 or 2 times a night (at 20 months). I think I might be unwilling to deal with another poor sleeper when I have two other children to cultivate, love, and care for. I'm not closing the door forever, but I think it would give us pause...

So. Yeah. I think once again, I am realizing limits. For now, I guess we'll get on with the business of trying to do the best we can with the children we are blessed to already have.

Is it over yet?

2011-02-21T13:17:00.000-06:00

I have just about had enough. Seriously-we must have set a world record for the number of back to back bacterial infections (oh, how many ear infections can we count?), viral illnesses, and just good old fashioned sick this year. Gillian and Addie somehow decided on cultivating the perfect petri-dish-host-environment, disease swapping nastiness, and although Sean and I have generally been above the fray, we have pretty much dealt with at least one sick kid constantly since October. The most perplexing thing I can't wrap my head around is "what's with all the GI bugs this year?"!! I mean, we did had a pretty nasty bout of it in winter of '09-'10, but it was an isolated incident. This year, I have been nauseous (think nausea like week 8 of pregnancy, but not pregnant) more than I haven't been (I guess that's the better-immune-response than vomiting or diarrhea), and the kids have had the fever/vomit/diarrhea GI bug thing at least 4 times. Add snot, coughing, general fever and malaise, and there it is.

Just about everyone I know is echoing my same frustrations with their own families. I literally have cancelled 6 playdates in 3 weeks because of illness and have had other people cancel two on us because they are having the same problems. I don't remember it being like this the past few years. Some of my friends had physical injuries to add a little flavor to the health miseries. Like the friend whose child busted her chin and her head twice (knocking teeth loose, requiring stitches) in a month, or the other one whose little one bit through his lower lip with a fall (also requiring stitches) and had two kids with rectal strep infections. I never even knew that existed. Well, the point is that things could always be worse.

I thought initially that this was because of the extreme cold up here, but friends and family down south are dealing with it too. It's this general foreboding sense that the world seems a bit off right now. Maybe the oil spill, piggy backing on general economic sluggishness, started some great global downward spiritual spiral (sick earth?) manifesting itself in general poor well-being for the sentient. Maybe I am a crazy conspiracy theorist. But I am worrying. And I usually don't worry about the world, as I generally have faith in the way things are. But it seems like it's lapping up to my (and many of my friends') doorstep and I'm very concerned. It's been doom all day long-political insanity and polarization like I have never personally witnessed in my relatively short life (Wisconsin...defunding popular programs...protesting sacred things, like holy books or the funerals of fallen soldiers...regimes falling...political unrest...war); budget crises all over the place (small businesses closing up shop (even on a tiny scale, our food court has two of seven restaurants left), colleagues at state agencies having to take furlough days...states far into the red...talk of government shutdown, federal government freezing raises and hiring at agencies), crazy weather...and crazier unemployment. I'm not an alarmist and I'm not going to issue some blanket forecast of doom, but something is not right (I know, at any given time lots of things aren't right, but this is more than that). And it makes me worry. I probably wouldn't worry as much if I didn't have a family. But I do, so my worries are caricatures of my normal worries.

So, to do my part in an effort to turn this tide, I will try to counteract with oppressive, stifling negativity with greatfulness for my blessings-every single one...trying to make more of an effort to meditate on each every day. Maybe if enough of us do that it will push the darkness back into the vortex where it belongs..to keep it from spilling its sad energy everywhere, keep the darkness out of people's hearts. I have never been great at meditating with all my monkey brain chatter, but this direness demands it. Prayer and Yoga and Kindness. The recipe to counteract disaster. There-a path forward, something I can DO. Care to join me?

One thing I know-I am not Martha Stewart.

2011-02-16T12:16:00.001-06:00

So, I try. I really do. I try to be thoughtful, and I try to be creative. Mostly I'm just tired, and do the best I can to remember things and not make people feel bad because I forget stuff that is important to them (it literally takes every ounce of memory-energy I have to make sure I don't forget things important to my immediate family). This is related to lots of things, but especially parenting-school obligations are really a lot of work for parents. I'm not sure if it's because Gillian goes to private school and they just expect parents to be uber involved (I have struggled to do my 10 service hours, and next year they're bumping it up to 20!), or because I never paid attention to how tired people look who cart their kids around from one event to the next. There are forever little notes in Gillian's backpack for what they need us to contribute to function every day (snacks, juice, art supplies-and this is above and beyond what you had to bring at the beginning of the year), and for special occasions (Wear RED (Valentine's Day)! Wear black and Orange (Halloween)! Wear Christmas colors! Wear all black (for Mexican heritage day costumes!!)! Wear silly hats (whatever)! bring a shoebox to decorate for a valentine's mailbox!, bring treats for classmates!....and on and on and on) ...a neverending list of thing to remember for someone like me who can't remember anything.

To remedy this, I have a calendar in my email at work that gives me a day, an hour, and every-10-minutes-for-30-minutes-before-an-event warning. I would be well advised to put personal things (birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, special events) on there as well. Sean, of freakish ability to remember every detail of everything that ever happened every second of his life, thinks I just don't try, but I honestly am either so focused or so distracted that things fall through the cracks. I'm not trying to excuse myself, but that is the way I am and the way I have always been. Maybe it's because growing up we never made a big deal out of anything-not birthdays (no cake, no gifts that I can remember), not any milestone, really. My dad didn't even come when I graduated from grad school. He lived 3 hours away, but couldn't be bothered (but my inlaws wouldn't have missed it for the world-go figure).

So, I'll never be Martha Stewart, who I am sure never forgets anything special to anyone. I'll never be the mom in Gillian's class who made (from scratch, I'm sure) heart shaped sugar cookies with her son's name imprinted in them, individually wrapped in a beautiful pink foil with red ribbons for each child. The closest I got to trying to do something special was forced on me because somehow I thought the Valentines as advertised in my all-inclusive bag of Starburst mini-packs would be age-appropriate or attractive and not lame... so after working my Very Long Day at work and commuting, getting dinner made, children fed, children bathed, children to bed (an every night Hurculean accomplishment, as all of you parents are well aware) and sitting down to just stare at the wall for a few minutes before turning in, it occurred to me that I was supposed to send in Gillian's treats NO LATER THAN FEBRUARY 9 (yes, bolded in backpack note from the classroom-over-achiever-mom-extraordinaire). I opened the bag of candy. I immediately thought "these Valentines SUCK", and "I would rather eat a rabid dog than have THESE represent Gillian's contribution to this event". Now, mind you, I had not seen what other parents had done, and clearly, after seeing what was in Gillian's mailbox after the Valentine's Day party, most parents are obviously as tired and un-Martha-Stewart-like as me. But here we were. Treats (aside from the overpriced mini-cupcake platter I bought at the grocery store the day before the party) due in less than 12 hours, it was cold out, we had a good parking space, most things were closed...time to pull something out of my proverbial backside. I found some stickers, Gillian's stamps, some googly eyes, construction paper, and a glue gun and went to town. The boys got alien monster cards. The Girls got fairies and princess cards (yes, stereotypical, but that seems to work for this age). I cranked them out in 45 minutes flat. Then I dragged myself to bed.

I wish I was thoughtful naturally. I wish I had been planning what I would do for Gillian's class for weeks beforehand, and even with two kids under 5 and a brand new baby had the wherewithall to make personalized sugar cookies from scratch. I just don't. What ends up happening a lot is that I feel guilty when I forget an important event (sorry T for missing that promotion ceremony last week) or that I will probably need to reciprocate gifts for random holidays (sorry Anna and Lori for not giving you or YOUR kids a gift/chocolate for Valentine's Day). It really isn't intentional. I hope being thoughtful in other ways counts-on those non-special days when I buy someone coffee or a treat and think to upload photos or videos, or send a packet of art to family... I might not do well on those lesser holidays, but MAN, did I do a great job at Christmas!

Fun and Games of the Moment

2011-02-14T11:53:00.000-06:00

It seems that we go through our daily routine fixating on one thing or the other. Gillian's first fixation was animating anything and has kind of continued throughout her life... ballerinas, then princesses, then mermaids, now superheros (thought she still adores all of the above, though she no longer gets mad when we forget to address her as Princess Gillian Ballerina Mermaid). She does that with games, and her current favorite is solving mysteries with three clues. The picture above represents a good 30 minutes of drawing clues and trying to solve them (there are pictures on the back too). Where were we? What were we doing? She takes a turn drawing and I guess, then we swap. She made up this game, to my knowledge. It is pretty fun. Sometimes the activities we are doing were real (flying in an airplane to see Nonnie and Grandaddy) and some not so much (flying like a bird through rainbows to jump on clouds). But, it's always entertaining and always a good way to bond and pass the time anywhere (like a doctor's waiting room, for example, when things can get incredibly stressful when (some) people (little ones) get bored).

Addie's favorite thing is to push you down (a redux of that thing she liked as a baby-what gives?) and climb on top of you, and bounce on your stomach until you get the urge to vomit. You struggle to get up, she squeals her delighted squeal, and intently pushes you right back down. More bouncing, more nausea, but you keep letting her do it because GOD, SHE IS SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW. She does it on me, she does it on Sean, she does it on Gillian (which, by the way, warms my heart all the way through). These two will be 100% dangerous when they collaborate on their mischief, I am sure. I am tired just considering the idea, honestly, but they are so silly.

Another funny little thing Addie does is squeal "tickee tickee tickee!!!!" when she thinks someone or something is cute or she feels love for someone or something. Even Boobies. She loves to tickle them and give them kisses even when she doesn't want them (per se), like that now she is weaning to once every day or two, she needs to remind them that she hasn't forgotten how hard they have worked for her or all the snuggly times they've had together. The end of the era is near, but we've had a good run.

Mama-centric

2011-02-12T21:27:00.000-06:00

Being a mother is amazing, and exhausting, and intense... I feel like it's go time every waking second, and I do a generally terrible job making space and time for myself. Sean is really good about making sure he plays music out a couple times a week, and he goes to the gym, practices music, gets on the computer, reads the paper, and drinks his coffee when the kids are awake. I aspire to be able to take time like he does without the guilt I feel for not giving the kids enough of myself. I guess it's a working mom thing, but when I am not with the kids and I could be, I feel like I'm taking my children, and motherhood, for granted. I feel like I'm squandering this gift I have been given. That is the reason I leave for work at 5:15 in the morning...so I can start my work day at 6, a good hour before the girls even wake up.... because I want that morning hour at the end of the day. With them. I work those 10 hour days so I can have Wednesdays with Addie in the morning, and both of the kids in the afternoon. It's not pretty, but it makes the most sense (for them) right now.

I find myself living my life-the life where I am a wife, and a support, and a musician...I find myself living that life when the children are asleep. That's when I can have a sweet and intimate conversation with Sean, or a quiet dinner or drink and see a movie, or learn a tune, or have a long talk with a friend about their father that died or their cheating boyfriend, or their future. I have been remiss about asking for what I need. I have been remiss about even thinking about what I need so I know what to ask for.

Tonight Sean and I had a little snit about something and he suggested I feel grateful that he gives me and the kids valet treatment with getting picked up or dropped off at home and when we're out somewhere. I told him that even though I love that he is thoughtful, it is a LOT of work getting them anywhere, even with "the treatment". Example: tonight we got dropped off at the restaurant...I had to get the kids through the food line, in chairs with drinks, their food in front of them-all while they are acting exactly their age (especially challenging when Addie is roaming free and throwing everything from the display shelves on the floor while you're trying to finish getting the order made and paid for). So, I told him I will park the car from now on. GLADLY. I dropped them all off in the back of our house after dinner and had a lovely, quiet drive to the parking space and quiet walk to the house. I LOVED not having to lug them up the stairs, carrying way too much stuff (including Addie!). The cold was nothing compared to the tiny serene little break that made the rest of the night enjoyable and a complete breeze. Amazing what (literally) 5 minutes of quiet can do to recharge your batteries.

That got me thinking about a) identifying and voicing my needs and b) offering suggestions for how my family can help me get them met.

I sat down and thought good and hard about the needs of each of us, and I drafted a proposed schedule for all of us (Type A, but that's how I roll when I'm trying to figure something out). Sean has 4 mornings during the week that he can go to the gym, and two days a week where he could go to a session. Gillian has dance class and piano lessons. Addie has wiggleworms and nap requirements. God love him, Sean said "figure out what you want to do, and we will fill in around you".

So, one thing I decided is that I want to go to the gym on weekend mornings for yoga. Today was my first day. I have neglected my physical self and emotional self since Addie was born. I did yoga pretty regularly for 4 years and religiously throughout both pregnancies, but I hadn't done it in a class since I was pregnant about 2 years ago (I did do videos till Addie was born, but classes are different). And it kicked my ass, but in the best possible way. The kind of way where you walk out thinking-that was rough! but I lived! for that I am amazing! Can't wait till next week to get my ass kicked again! I also jumped at the chance to sit right here and relax when Sean offered to hold our end of a babyswap up tonight and sit for our friends. It is lovely, and quiet in my house. But, I am also falling asleep on the couch after a very eventful day and it's only 10:15.

I feel like this sense of self is a moving target, and we can only keep plugging away, moving toward some balance that makes us feel like we're taking care of everyone we need to be taking care of... but the epiphany is that we have to take care of ourselves first. So, I am getting a little more perspective about leaving the living room messy till the end of the day, or just breaking down and getting take out, or realizing Addie will not be traumatized if I come home a half hour AFTER she wakes up from a nap (instead of puting her down and then trying to get home from errand running before she wakes up). And maybe every now and then, I need to abandon the three of them for 20 minutes in a hot bath-GUILT FREE-to make some space to remind myself that my life couldn't be much more blessed than it already is...

Our bedtime prayer

2011-01-28T21:15:00.000-06:00

We are bringing Gillian up Catholic, as most of you know. We have endless amazing conversations about God and death and angels. I realize I haven't ever shared anything about this topic, so I'll start with our bedtime prayer.

We chose this prayer last summer, and Gillian learned it pretty fast. The reasons we chose this particular prayer are numerous. Sweet child's prayer? Check. Nice message? Check. Angels, blessings, humility? Check. Check. Check. No reference to dying in your sleep? Check!
*************************************
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
Guard me Jesus through the night
And wake me with the morning light.

Father in heaven hear my prayer
Keep me in thy loving care
Be my guide in all I do
And bless all those who love me too.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John
Bless this bed I sleep upon
Four corners to my bed
Four angels surround my head
One to watch and one to pray
And two to keep all harm away.

Help us to do the things we should
To be to others kind and good
In all we do and all we say
To grow more loving every day.

So Big!

2011-01-21T21:30:00.000-06:00

Our chatterbox is starting to make more sense and I love these initial and elementary conversations...I am trying to document the sweet way she says things...like everyone she recites nite-nite to before bed. Nite-nite Papa, nite-nite Gilly ("geeee")...nite-nite Nonni...nite-nite Grandaddy ("Da-eee")...nite-nite Anna (perfect On-Ya)...nite-nite Julie ("jooo-ee")...nite-nite Monika...nite-nite Darla ("daw-ya")...nite-nite Hauky...nite-nite fishy.

Night, night precious angel.

Willpower and Exorcism

2011-01-19T12:41:00.000-06:00

Do you ever experience the depth of your child's irrationality, rage, and will and think, "I don't remember signing up for this?". Last night was one of Gillian's biggest doozy of a fit ever. And it was over a pen. 60 minutes of blood curdling screaming, kicking, flailing, hyperventilating glory because I wouldn't let her mark up her piano lesson book. (She tricked me by asking for it so she could "do [her] homework" which was writing a few quarter notes, but really wanted to draw on every page "to show the teacher [I] did my homework"). She was precious and happy when she walked in the door at dinner time from the lesson, and all excited to show me what she learned at her first piano lesson ever. By all accounts, she did great, and absolutely loved it (she asked, "can I go to piano class every day?") but I think the day was a little overstimulating for her.

Sometimes parenting feels like detective work. Or endurance marathoning. Or both. What was true underlying stress that the emotional pen trigger let loose? Surely not taking a pen away. I carried her, kicking and screaming for the pen, to her room (I had warned her that if she didn't calm down we were going to bed instead of practicing). In the room, I asked her to brush her teeth so we could read. Emphatic denial and more "I WANT THE PENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN" (hyperventilate, hyperventilate, hyperventilate) "P-P-P-EEEEENNNNNNN...NNNNN....NNNN....NNNN!!!!!!!!!!!" to which I carried her to the bathroom and brushed her teeth for her. The I turned off the light, (inadvertantly turning the focus to the books we weren't going to read because she didn't brush her teeth like I asked her to). Now it was "BB...B...BBBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOKKKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! Well, no books. Still kicking and screaming. So I picked her up (while she was trying to hit me and kick me) and put her in my lap and rocked her and shhhh'd her and told her it was OK. This went on for about 35 minutes. Finally she calmed down-demons gone, sweet, sad girl in their place. I asked her what was wrong. She said she wanted the pen and to read books. I told her she has to do what I ask, or she loses privileges. I asked her if anything happened at school. She said no. I asked if anything made her sad and she said "I don't like being at aftercare by myself" and I said "what do you mean by yourself?" and she told me she was the very last child to be picked up today, and it was by her teacher instead of Sean or I (insert my heart breaking into approximately 952 pieces at how abandoned she felt). Her piano lesson is late because the music teacher is booked until 5:40, but we decided it was better to try music with someone she knows that she already has music class with and on an instrument that has no requirement of posture to have success. You press a key, it makes a sound that is in tune. Immediate gratification. So, that is the day Sean can go to the downtown shop for work, and he picked G up at 6:10 on his way home. I had dinner waiting when they got home. But she has to go to aftercare until then, which I didn't think would be bad since she has talked about it wistfully before (apparently quite a few kids in her class go to aftercare during the week). But she said "no one played with me" and that she was the last kid left of all of them-and there are quite a few of them (4 teachers to watch them all). This morning Sean asked her about this and she said some kids played with her, but not "right before piano class". So the truth is somewhere between "I felt horribly out of place" and "I had a fabulous time". Obviously, she felt awkward in the new situation, so we talked about how maybe when you're the new kid, it takes a while to meet new friends, just like at camp last summer when she didn't know anyone. Enter Mama the Shrink. Then we snuggled, said prayers, and she was asleep within 2 minutes. Luckily Addie was not bothered by any of it, and slept right on through the Sleepocolypse.

In these instances, you have to have the patience and calm of a leaf, and I reached deep last night. My conclusion was that Gillian didn't do great with a change of routine, which reminds me of how her father does when there is a change of routine. She held it together until she was in the safety of my sphere, when she could completely melt down and still be loved in spite of herself. Now she knows what to expect and we'll see if next week is better. When I asked if after care was worth waiting for her music lesson, she was very clear that it was. I am thrilled that she seems to like learning an instrument.

It's like every other argument/emotional meltdown you ever have with anyone-10% is about the issue at hand, and 90% is about some other baggage that is turning your switch. It is some serious effort to start trying to recognize what those "leftovers" are, but learning them in others is like learning to navigate a landmine. It is a necessity.

Chill

2011-01-16T13:51:00.001-06:00

All is right in the universe at this moment. There are soft, deliberate puffs of snow taking their time to the ground (this is not typical during the day in Chicago-usually we have horizontal blinding hell; soft snow is usually nights and early morning). There is a fire in the new fireplace, and there are two babies napping. We survived church, sick and all, remarkably well. The Bears are currently winning this playoff game. I'm not sure how much better things could be.

It's funny. I had a great night out with girlfriends on Friday. It is a serious blessing to be able to really share with people about the trials and tribulations of your life, and of theirs, openly, and know it's safe to do that. I love these women and I respect them, so much. And somehow it makes me feel that all the struggles I have with parenthood and moving on in life is not unique to my life. Everyone has some challenge somewhere. And it was ironic how we all decided that the challenges we were given have been tailored to us...and that no one else would deal with them as gracefully or as well as we do. It's easy to feel that I'm being judged for how I manage my extremely spirited children, and to wish they could just behave themselves sometimes (in my moments of utter worn-downness) but they are my girls, and I have to believe that in order for them to become who they are intended to be, this is who they have to be right now. And I have to love them, unconditionally, warts, daisies, and all (as they have to love me the same way). And I have to be gentle with myself, and know I'm doing the best I can. And I need to not compare the behavior of other kids to mine. They are not my kids, and their parents have their own challenges. I do know that one day, my girls will be very self-aware, very sure of who they are and what they want, and very capable of doing what they want all by themselves. If I was a complete hard ass I would crush the spirit of children who are vibrant and wonderful. But I balance that with not being a pushover, either. Some days Gillian has many time outs. And they are almost ALWAYS for how she interacts with Addie.

It did make me feel better to know that one of my friends (with a daughter the same age as Gillian, and almost an identical personality) struggles with the same feelings I have sometimes. She and her husband are incredibly laid back, calm, gentle people. And they have a spitfire just like ours. So when I wonder what I'm doing to cause the behavior, I can rest assured that sometimes that's just the way she came out. This friend also said she was exactly like our girls when she was little, and she has grown up to be an excellent human being.

Another thing we talked about is that one of the women said she was having this weird crossroads where she is exactly where she planned to be, and now there was nothing else she had to achieve, and how incredibly freeaked out she was that there wasn't somewhere else to get to. I remember that exact feeling a year ago. I had my babies, I had my PhD, I have my home, and my great job, and my great husband. No one tells you that when you arrive at the top of the mountain, the awesomeness of reveling in your own accomplishment can be relatively short lived. What I did is decide to go to nursing school NEXT. Because there always had to be a NEXT. I guess that isn't unheard of in a chronic over-achiever. She is floundering, wondering about happiness when you have everything you want. I worked through this feeling and have really enjoyed the days since I decided to relax and live my life, all “A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving (Lao Tzu)” Buddhalike. My freshman year of college, I had a big posterboard of this poem on my refrigerator:

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let's not speak in any language;
let's stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about...

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death.

Now I'll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go. -Neruda

Yeah. It's kindof like that. We have created enough comfort and success in our lives that we have the luxury of leisure...sometimes that can result in some kind of emotional estrangement from ourselves. But, the beauty of having strong, amazing women in your life is that you are never, ever alone in anything you feel.

So, that snow outside that is floating like lazy little bubbles around and around...I want to be like that-happy to float without direction. I'm getting closer, every day. Except I don't have to travel alone. Beautiful life, I think, where we get to collide our consciousness with others. We get to learn from them and dance with them. We get to blend our colors into the tapestry of ever after.

Newish Things

2011-01-12T13:24:00.001-06:00

1. Addie's fascination with plural things. She loves to say "doggie-EESSS" and "num-num PSSSS".
2. Trying to draw actual things. She will point and say "flower" or "ball", even if said picture looks nothing like what she says it is.
3. Dance choreography.
4. Trying to sing. I love this and want to try to catch her, but the video camera is always a few seconds too late!
5. Saying "please". The cuteness!
6. Sitting on the potty. She LOVES the potty. Like, unnatural love of the potty. Sadly she sits on it for days and then gets up and walks away and pees on the floor. We got it out expressly for the sole purpose of exposure, but she loves to just sit there and pretend to poop.
7. Laughing at her own flatulence. This has been a big favorite for some time. I *swear* we did not start this by laughing at her toots...she just thinks it fun to toot.

I'm sure I'll think of more. In other news, we're sick again. Gillian has had a fever about 103 for going on five days. Luckily no seizure, but it's been a pain to keep dosing her every three hours with ibuprofen and acetominophen. I worry about what it's doing to her liver. Yesterday at the doctor, they said it was probably from an ear infection, but didn't prescribe meds to help her, so we still have fever and she's been out of school all week. I went to drop something off at school and her teacher said seven kids in the class were out sick. UGGH.

The level of illness from having two children is exponential. Gillian did not have a single cold until she was 16 months old. Addie, on the other hand, has been sick for almost both of the entire winters she has lived through. I guess I couldn't keep her in a bubble like I kept Gillian in a bubble (RSV worries), and she has Gillian to bring all the viruses of the universe home with her from school on a daily basis.

Anyway, we hope for a quick recovery. She is missing her bud Francie to pieces, and we have had to cancel two playdates in the past week because of illnesses.

Christmas in New Orleans

2011-01-07T21:44:00.000-06:00

We braved the holiday insanity to meet up with Gillian and Addie's Nonni and Grandaddy and Auntie Kim and Uncle Joey in New Orleans for Christmas. Aside from getting to the airport a full two hours before the flight...and having to be corraled to random airport hallways because the line was so long...and being told I couldn't get through security after all that with 30 minutes left before the flight was to leave because the ticketing agent didn't give me a boarding pass for Addie (lap child)...and I literally had to run back to ticketing to beg the agent to help me (and her *almost* NOT giving me the boarding pass because we didn't bring proof of Addie's age), and running back just in time to join Sean and Gillian at the front of the security line, then sprinting to the gate....well, things were great besides that.

Suzi picked us up in New Orleans, and remarkably on this trip not a single suitcase or child seat went missing...though sadly, we left our portable DVD player on the plane. We immediately went to a great Po Boy place for lunch. The kids were totally jazzed to see their grandparents, and we were all thrilled to get some food. Then we headed for an absolutely beautiful house in the Garden District that Bill and Suzi rented for a few days so we could all stay together and get some truly quality time together (in lieu of separate hotel rooms). The house was meticulously renovated, and in beautiful condition. Even better, the owner has a child about Addie's age and it was completely stocked with a gorgeous crib, changing table, high chair, and lots of fun new toys :-)

There was even a swing on the porch for Addie!

The first order of business when we arrived was a nap for the girls. Addie protested some, but she had been up for 9 solid hours and it didn't take long until she gave up and went to bed. Gillian was harder-she was so excited to see the grandparents she could barely stand to sit still. I had to go lay down with her to get her to rest, and in spite of myself, I went to sleep too...it couldn't be helped...it was the most beautiful and bright master suite that had giant windows and the french doors open, and white carpet and crisp white sheets with a warm cozy duvet and a cool breeze from outside. I felt like I was in a Tide commercial. In fact, it was such a great nap that we woke up when it was dusk and we did it every day we were there. Suzi was smart to bring some toys for the girls, including a sweet little doll that belonged to Kim that had a dress that matched Gillian's Christmas dress, and she also brought a little tree that they had a blast decorating:

Friday was Christmas Eve, and we started the day with Cafe DuMonde because we could. Beignets and cafe au lait were in order. Addie approved!

Then Nonni and Grandaddy took the girls out for some duck feeding and a trip to the zoo. Sadly, the camera batteries didn't make it past the duck feeding. Sean and I got to lounge around, take a bath in our sunken marble tub, and then go out to Casamentos (awesome (and divey) New Orleans oyster bar).

Lunch

Addie and Grandaddy feeding the ducks

Enjoying the ability to REST, for the first time not squandering the opportunity, we all took another luxurious (2+ hours) nap before a truly beautiful Christmas mass at 4pm. After mass we headed to Adee's for the annual Christmas Eve Party. Gillian was a little intimidated by the number of wild second cousins running crazy around the house, but Addie was in her element. It was nice to catch up with everyone attending, and introduce Addie to the larger family. Of course, Santa made an appearance, and it was the first time Gillian willingly sat on his lap (Addie, not so much). Of course, Gillian saw all her cousins go first and get a great gift, so that might have fueled her willingness to comply. The giant vat of etouffe filled the house with unimaginable aromas and dinner was fantastic, as always.

Gillian with Santa

Adee and a few of her 35 Great-grandchildren

The Family

Addie with her great-aunt Adelaide and Great-Grandmother Adelaide (3rd generation Addie (Gaudreau) Glasser-Sean's gorgeous cousin-not pictured)

This year, I chose to not be a stick in the mud and do the whole Christmas thing-completely. We looked for Rudolph's blinking red nose in the sky and when we saw it on the way into the house, Gillian was convinced we should all urgently go to bed because Santa wouldn't come if we were awake. So we hurriedly put out cookies and milk and she didn't even want books or a snuggle she was in such a hurry to go to bed. So, to bed she went. We had to tell her Santa was leaving the monster gift at our house in Chicago (because he knew it was too big for the airplane) so the Disney Princess Palace had to wait. The kids were wiped out anyway, so it wasn't nearly as hard as I expected getting them to bed.

Christmas morning was just magical and so much fun, and it was great to spend it all together. The girls got some quality time with Auntie Kim and Uncle Joey, and it was fun to just mill around and get ready leisurely for visiting Adee. The girls had their dresses from last year, which because they are both so tiny, they can still fit in, so they wore them for Christmas.

We went to Adee's and Addie fell asleep as we arrived, but was pretty jazzed once we got there. It was a more intimate lunch with Adee, and Suzi's sister Lisette, and it was really nice (Turkey Florentine, apple crisp, and salad). We then headed to Bill's sister and brother-in-law's house and it was mayhem. Sean's three cousins (Gordon, Jim, and Brian) were there with Gordon's wife Marcy and son Connor (11 months). The O'Learys know how to party and the party was underway. They didn't even hear the door things were so loud! But we had fun letting Gillian see them again and get to know them a little better (they had never met Addie). We headed back to the house for-you guessed it-a nap (at least for the kids and I; Kim, Joey and Sean went back to the O'Learys'!), and woke up just in time for some delicious grilling, compliments of Bill. After dinner Addie entertained us with some choreography. It was amazing how she did the same movement at the same part of the song over and over again...we almost killed ourselves laughing, too.

People drinking wine and entertained by dancing baby (wouldn't be the first time, right?)

Sunday came too fast and we headed to the airport amid many reports that it would be an act of God to get to Chicago. It wasn't as stressful getting to our gate this time because our neighbor Darla scanned Addie's birth certificate and emailed it to me, and it's a smaller airport. We did have some delays, but a few hours is nothing compared to some families stuck on tarmacs or in airports for all of Sunday. We got home with two exhausted little girls and Darla picked us up from the airport. Unfortunately a Bear's game was letting out and the trip home took twice as long as normal, but we got home safe and sound.

It was a wonderful, but too short, trip. The house is the way for us to visit when we're outside of Jacksonville or Tallahassee. Bill and Suzi did so much to ensure everyone's comfort, and we truly appreciate everything they did! Once again we were reminded of the multitudes of ways we are blessed...family is the greatest of those.

Immaculate

2011-01-03T08:56:00.000-06:00

All my life I have struggled with clutter. I have always had a hard time letting go of things-sentimental or utilitarian. Sean has always been frustrated by my inability to consolidate STUFF and the constant state of borderline messiness of our house. I would say, most of the time people would have considered it pretty clean, but even then there were piles of mail, or paperwork, or a tupperware of random junk (batteries, barrets, keys, pens) on a table (particularly the mail table). On shelves there were the intermittent misplaced item, like Gillian Tiny Things (she, like her mother, likes to hold on to things that really should be tossed) like pet rocks, single screw on earrings, the random wooden bead (who had drawn on eyes, nose, and mouth) and toy pieces. The back sunroom was a collection of boxes, a clutter disaster of a roll top desk (which we could at least close and hide the junk), piles of catalogues, books, envelopes, and an unused piano. Our bedside table undershelves were piled with books we weren't reading, magazines, papers, and random minutia. This past fall, I was stressed beyond belief and I felt like I was forever chasing my tail-taking time from the kids to make the place livable because I would wait too long to take care of things until the pile seemed smotheringly, overwhelmingly gargantuan.

Something happened to me when we renovated our living room. Such an elegant setting as our new shelves and fireplace needed to be showcased. Furthermore, if I was going to maintain my mental sanity now being the mother of TWO, I had to get control of the kid toys that just added to the muddle of it all. I was even more determined after our trip to New Orleans for vacation, during which time Nonni and Grandaddy rented a GORGEOUS (fully renovated) house (more to come on that trip in the next day or two), to get our place in order. Because the owner of that house had a child, and her place still looks great-not messy in the least. Elegant. That's what I wanted, I decided. I was on a mission. I came home, unable to wait to attack my unorganized disaster of a house.

The first order of business-take down the Christmas Tree. I know some people love to leave it up for a month, but if I was going to get the piano out of the back sunroom and begin to rework that room for use, I had to get it out of there. So, after the kids were in bed THE DAY WE GOT HOME FROM CHRISTMAS, the tree and every iota of Christmas stuff was put away, shlepped to the basement storage unit for next year. I wet scrubbed the floor where the tree was and wiped down the baseboards. We pulled the piano from the back and put it on the north wall of the living room. It looks beautiful perpendicular to the new shelves and fireplace, with a violin photo hung above it in a substantial bird's eye maple frame. We got a gorgeous new wool rug from our neighbor that is very traditional, and it replaced our $25 Menard's indoor outdoor rug. But now the art on the wall didn't match. So, down it went (we will be on the lookout for a more spartan replacement). As did the bookshelves in the living room and the CD rack. A much cleaner look was in order if we are going to declutter. I put up the bookshelves in the back sunroom along the wall where the piano was (firmly attached to the drywall so no little climbing monkeys get crushed under their weight). I put our severely reduced number of miscellaneous books that wouldn't fit on the living room shelves on the top two shelves of each stack, and reserved the rest for Gillian's games and toy bins. We took the big fuzzy green rug from her bedroom and put it in the back and put the cute Fairy rug Nonnie game her in her bedroom. We set up her massive Princess Palace on the back room rug, open to the bins for easy access. The desk got a complete overhaul, and there isn't even a book left on the top, and inside the roll top is clean and orderly. The CD rack lives back there too, completely dusted (and concealed) so Addie doesn't pull all the CDs off and throw them on the floor.

The front playroom got relieved of all Gillian's toys that have little pieces that we were forever picking up when Addie got ahold of them. We packed up all the toys Addie was tired of or didn't play with anymore and created a giant box of toys to be donated to the Salvation Army. The front playroom bins were sorted and simplified. The pile of board games and coloring books and papers, and polly pockets, and junk was downsized and moved to the back room, neatly stacked on shelves. Now the front playroom is clean and organized, and nothing has to be balanced on curtain rods to keep the babies from getting them (so many things were balanced up there that the rod support was bent-boxes of markers, cash register money and coins, puzzles, art supplies, etc. etc.). Now there is just a rod and curtains.

The living room looks great-no cluttered piles. The only art on the walls is simple and doesn't create to much visual madness when coupled with the carpet. The mail table is completely bare and has mail that sits there exactly until bedtime-when I go through and shred what is not needed and file what is needed and what needs to be followed up on. The kitchen no longer has the random toy on counters or the window sill. The kitchen table is devoid of anything at all. The cabinets have been purged of all expired canned or boxed items, or anything I bought on impulse that I will never use. This month I am trying Costco-we bought lots of meat and dry goods to see how far into them month we can go, and if it will help us save some cash. My grocery spending has been out of control, and we are trying to get a handle on that and pull in the reins, good and tight, as well. We are trying to eat out a whole lot less. An evaluation of spending at the end of the month will tell us how we did. The corner of the dining room-former home of random bags and boxes and more piles-is bare and clean. There is nothing on top of the buffet table save two candles on bases.

It doesn't stop there-I came to work and did the same thing in my office-I filed every pile on my desk and my office floor. Only one working file at a time is on my desk, which I got every speck of dust off of with wet wipes. I archived 8,000 emails (not even kind-of kidding), so even my sent and inboxes are decluttered of the extraneous.

I guess I had an epiphany. If I am going to be happy and healthy, my life has to be in order. If my life is going to be in order, I need my things to be in order. Sean has been trying to tell me this for going on 11 years of marriage. For the first time in my life, everything in my house has its place. I can't begin to express how awesome that feels. If I take care of things immediately, nothing piles up to take time away from the kids. I have discovered that if I use TV once a day-immediately after I get home- for a half an hour, I can get dinner done in peace and without tantrums, which usually arise because I have been away at work all day and they want my attention. We put the girls in the tub (in the room adjacent to the kitchen) while Sean cleans up, then I make my coffee for the next day, choose lunch and dinner items from the freezer for the next day, feed the fish, get the pajamas and diaper, get Gillian's icewater and Addie's bottle made, and then it's time to wash them. Sean is done by then and comes to collect one for drying and hairbrushing while I do the other one. Then Gillian gets one more 25 minute block of TV (usually Little Bear at the moment) while I put Addie down (books, snuggles, bottle-general 1 on 1 time). Then we both put Gillian down with books and snuggling and prayers.

I seriously can't remember feeling so light in my life. I'm not sure, but I think getting rid of clutter in my home in my visual field has reduced the clutter and frenzy in my mind. I have more patience, more free time, and Sean is happier too. Again, one of those "Better-Late-Than-Never" moments in my 36 years, but hey...I finally got here, right ?!?

Reflection

2010-12-31T23:11:00.000-06:00

As I am wont to do, I am reflecting on life in general this New Year's Eve. A few intense lessons this year, to be sure.

I am thinking again about how every year brings changes-welcome, and not. I am thinking that sometimes unwelcome changes can force your growth in a way that is exceedingly painful...and all the wishes and affirmations you put forth into the universe echo back in some warped version of your vision of them. This was one of the hardest years of emotional growth for me in a long time. I had to learn to overcome a very difficult relationship with someone I see often without distancing myself physically...I had to learn that sometimes you just can't fix how you are perceived and you can't make it all better when the other person isn't interested in healing a relationship that is broken. I eventually realized that threats and ugliness from others sometimes are not a reflection of my flaws or shortcomings, but maybe are attributes that belong solely to them. I realized that I am quick to blame myself for cracks in the foundation of relationships, or the utter razing of them, and that I need to treat myself with some gentleness and grant myself the luxury of being blameless every now and then. The relationship is not fixed, but at least it is semi-civil. It will never be better. I had to let go of demons that haunted me for many long, miserable months; that affected my relationship with my family; that were all I could think about or talk about; I had to think about them and talk about them until I was so sick of them that I couldn't think or talk about them anymore. And it took away months of my life. I learned that I am so sensitive that my yearning to understand other people's motives affects my mental wellbeing if those explanations remain unresolved. And so, I worked through all this ad nauseum with my beloved therapist, who I saw for the last time in October after two enlightening, painful, and amazing years of self-study. And although I knew it intellectually, I realized and really internalized that other people's actions, ever seeming so intensely personal and hateful, are sometimes mirror images of their own agonies that I will never know or understand. And I realized that maybe those agonies are exacerbated by my very existence, through no fault of my own. And the saddest thing-that not everyone will like me, or will even pretend to be civil...this was my first taste of open loathing, and it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to manage. I had to work very hard to cultivate compassion and empathy for an enemy, like some sort of Buddhist enlightenment exercise. Someone I see daily. Someone I tried to get away from by applying for different jobs, but from which the universe provided no escape. Because God intended me to learn by pinning me, very uncomfortably, right where I am. I got to a place where I stopped taking it personally. And I started feeling sorry for someone so filled with bitterness. And I eventually got to the place where I decided if I leave, it will be because I want to, and not because someone forced me out.

Every year, parenting grows us as well, and I am now fully invested in parenting multiple children. I learned that sleep is precious and affects how I interact with my spouse and my girls, and that I have to be the one to compromise when it becomes clear that others can't. After three months of 4 hours or less of sleep at night due to multiple wakings from both kids, we had to tow the hard line with the older of the two. The baby still wakes up twice a night, even though she is nearly 18 months old. They are my joy, and my exhaustion. They are central to world and my identity. They are the manifestation of every dream I have, but I have come to the realization that I can't have everything I want while providing everything they need. I fully planned to go to school for nurse practice a year ago. I even applied to school and registered for classes. After an honest and open discussion with Sean about the needs of my family-particularly his and those of the girls-I had to put my dream on the backburner. This was the first time I have ever admitted that I just wouldn't be able to swing something I wanted to do. Too much was at stake for too many people for me to wear myself thin. So, my revised plan is to do school full time when I retire and when the kids are not babies anymore. Gillian will be 13 and Addie will be 10 when I am retirement eligible, and maybe then-when the house is paid for, and I have more time to be a full time student, and the kids are not so tender, maybe then is the time for being Superwoman. I guess I have never known what to do with myself when I'm not being Superwoman, but alas, I am growing up and starting to look at the world in a less egocentric way. Perhaps, at the ripe old age of 36, I am finally beginning to mature.

In a related subject, we took on my niece for the Fall semester. She lived with us from mid-August through mid-December. We talked about it a lot before offering to let her stay with us, but I don't think we really considered the many ways that adding an 18 year old to our household dynamic would affect us. All of us. She certainly needed structure in her life...at 12 she dropped out of school and her parents let her. That was because my brother had cancer from the time she was 4 years old, and in the looming threat of another tumor, her needs got lost under the bridge. They simply didn't have the mental energy to force her to go to school when she cried and resisted. They never thought to ask what exactly happened to make her cry and resist, and she and I never got there either. We brought her up here when she was 13 to try and show her an example of how you can live with steady employment and familial stability, but her parents wouldn't let her stay (we offered to keep her here, get her tutoring and therapy, and into a good school). I almost felt like her mother didn't want her to achieve, because it would take her away from them. Her mother has been under her grandmother's thumb her entire life, save a short stint in her own home with my brother when Amber was little, before Jim was diagnosed with brain cancer. Her mother was a 9th grade dropout, and it was decided for me the day she wouldn't get out of bed to take her to her financial aid appointment (at the college where, against all odds, she joined a GED program and got her GED 1 month before she would have graduated from high school). I have harped on education as a way out as long as I have known her, and it seemed like she was taking to that advice, but I didn't trust that she would get where she wants to go with her family being responsible for getting her to school and making appointments for admissions and financial aid. So, we offered for her to come up here-she needed 15 credit hours so she could join the Airforce or Army (which is exactly the right road for her)-so she could focus only on school and not have the negativity of her grandmother (who often told her her mother would "die if she ever left" or that she "would never make it in the military") or the ineptitude of her mother. She seemed happy to make the change, and we thought "win win! free date nights! we both benefit!". I wasn't prepared for how ingrained the deeper lack of motivation was for her. I don't blame her, but she grew up in a house where the only person with work ethic was her ailing father...then later her aunt (mother's sister). So, the early honeymoon period was marked with free date nights, and plans for her future and her excited examination of living in a big city for the first time in her life-where she was in control of getting herself places (her school was on the train line 10 minutes from here), and she was in complete control of how she came and went and how she did at school. Then the cracks started to show-the kids sleep schedules fell apart (we had moved them into the same room, and that was great for about 4 weeks)...and my niece started resisting going to class and we had little rifts where she would get pissed when I reminded her of the fact that her ONLY job while here was going to school...and she couldn't get a job and make her own money, which frustrated her beyond belief and stressed her out. Eventually she was babysitting quite a bit for all our friends, but even we felt like we had to pay her so she could earn money-nevermind the free room and board. And it became clear that common courtesy and appreciation were not things she had been taught-and that those were things we would have to teach her as well. In general, having anyone extra in our house affects our dynamic after about 4 days, and this was extended. Not because it was her fault, but just because she was external to our nucleus. And all the time I thought she would free up and the help she would give ended up being time I spent being her life coach, lecturing her, tutoring her, and cheerleading for her. I had to find time I didn't have for yet another person at the expense of my husband and children. And they resented me for it-the kids were clingy and needy for me, and Sean and I were bickering a lot more than usual. It wasn't my niece's fault at all-it just happened. And I believe that she learned a lot about structure living here. By the time she left, she wouldn't miss class for anything, and she had built some self-esteem around classwork that she never had before. And she decided that maybe she could do college after all. She grew a whole lot, and I hope she doesn't go away with anything but good thoughts about her experience here. I can say that our family dynamic is much better now, and although it was hard, I was glad I got to know someone as special, sweet, and motivated against all odds as my niece. I hope we will always keep some closeness and that we get a front row seat watching her become something spectacular.

My niece being here and the sleep disruptions that resulted from putting the kids in the same bedroom (and subsequently resulting in me sleeping with Gillian in mine and Sean's bed and Sean sleeping in the room with Addie in Gillian's twin bed) was me recognizing and eventually having Gillian diagnosed and treated for obstructive sleep apnea. She had her tonsils and adenoids removed in November (a stressful decision in itself) but I wish we had done it much sooner. Her behavior and general demeanor is so much improved she at times feels like a different child. I suppose never getting restorative sleep affects many aspects of a person's life, not the least of which is appetite. She is finally really eating-maybe for the first time in her life. And we are all back in our respective bedrooms and sleeping much better (except Addie, but that's a different post).

Sean is doing so well in his work, and my work life has evened out after all my turmoil, and we have had so many milestones this year for which I am truly grateful. The forced growth was something I hated, but it was a lesson I needed. I talked to someone I respect a lot about it, and I asked "what would you do in this situation?" and he said "I guess I just don't expect people to like me...". That wisdom finally sunk in after several months of neurotic overanalysis.

So, in all, I have blossomed some, we didn't end up buying that house (which I believe would have been a major mistake), the condo is finally renovated as we wanted, Gillian is sleeping and eating, Addie is pure innocence and beauty every day, Gillian started school, I realized some personal boundaries and limitations, and life is getting more stable and structured. It has been quite a year, and I know exactly how blessed I am to have family, friends, health, and faith.

Video Fix for Nonni and Grandaddy

2010-12-15T21:57:00.000-06:00

I know it's only 6 days till we see you, but here's something to tide you over. Addie *loves* to read and **loves** animals. So, books about animals is just about as awesome as life gets for her:

And, just because it's sweet, here's Gillian's rendition of the story of Christmas:

And my Christmas cards have still not arrived. Commence grumbling....

My annoying Christmas card order

2010-12-09T13:04:00.000-06:00

Because Kodak.com doesn't allow you to CALL customer service, I had to do a live chat when I saw my cards wouldn't SHIP until Dec 14-24th (completely useless):

Gilbert: Hi, my name is Gilbert D.. How may I help you?
Michelle: I am calling in reference to an order for Christmas cards. The free shipping option said they would ARRIVE in 3-10 days, however I got an email today that says they won't SHIP until Dec 14-24th. Obviously, too late for mailing. Can I change it to a same-day pickup or to expedited shipping?
Gilbert: Ok I will be glad to assist you with this.
Gilbert: May I please have your email address or Order ID number so I may look into this for you?
Michelle: [email address]
Michelle: I had no idea the free shipping would be so slow, or I wouldn't have bothered. I saw on my email confirmation that you offer same day local pickup, but didn't realize it was an option.
Gilbert: The KODAK Gallery processing system does not allow orders to be changed or cancelled once they have been placed.
Michelle: So, I spent $27 on cards that may not be able to mail before Christmas? Why don't you tell people this when they order?
Michelle: You aren't losing out on the payment if I pick it up from a local place...
Gilbert: Yes I understand but I am not able to cancel the order once it is placed.
Michelle: I'm not trying to cancel it, I'm trying to expedite the shipping. Can you ask a manager if we can do that?
Gilbert: We are not able to make modifications to the order.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRR. If you don't get a Christmas cards, I swear it's not (completely) my fault.

Gillian's Christmas List (in pictures)

2010-12-04T20:40:00.000-06:00

This morning Gillian brought me a list of gifts she wants for Christmas. Mostly, she already has some version of most of them. I appreciate her making a list. In case we need one.
"Prickly thing you can wear on your head to pretend you're a porcupine"
Green mermaid tail. Since the pink and multi-colored ones are not sufficient...of course, green is the color of ARIEL's tail, so there's that...
A bike. When I reminded her she already had a bike, she said that she wanted one for a 5-year-old. I told her the one she had would be for a 5-year-old and even an older child if we took the training wheels off. Then she backpedaled, thinking of a clever way to still get a new bike and said she wanted a new bike for Addie. How altruistic she is.
A drum. You may recall that she has an entire drum set. But she says she wants a new one. That's not going to happen, by the way.

A Christmas Wreath. Just because.

Ditty

2010-11-29T00:53:00.000-06:00