Life of Lisa

It's funny because it you and not me

2011-03-19T12:47:00.000-07:00

I'm doing dishes this afternoon and I notice that my usual helper just isn't there anymore. Part of me is wondering where she has gone off too and if it is going to result in a similar clean up to the Play-Dough incident of earlier in the week where she discovered you can tear the stuff into a bazillion pieces and toss them around the room for a post New Years Eve party confetti effect. Another, more powerful part of me doesn't care because I have mentally handed her off and now I can wash dishes without having to let her "help" me rinse each item, and by rinse I mean splash like a seal in the sink and throw towels on the floor to protect the laminate. But you all know about these things. Those little odd things you do to get chores done in the presence of kids that if given the chance you will skip over like dog poop on the sidewalk.

I am halfway through my dishes when I start to hear the following from my post at the sink.

"Helllllooooooooo" knock, knock, knock
"Helllllooooooooo" rustle, kick, bang, slam ---the door opens.
"Hi Daddy"
"Hi honey. Daddy is using the potty right now......"
"Okay daddy. " door closes.
--Pause--
"Hellllooooooooo" knock, knock, knock
"Hellllooooooooo" rustle, kick, bang, slam ---the door opens.
"Hi Daddy"

This is the point where I press my lips together to stifle a laugh, because I can see it in my head. He was thinking he was "just going to be gone for a minute" and she has taken this as a new game called captive audience.

We have ~~one of~~ those bathrooms that are so small you can reach everything from your seat. Walls, towels, sink, cabinets, door, you name the item and it is available to you without having to get up. How simple and practical these older homes make using the facilities.

Because of this functionality, our daughter has decided that there is no reason to waste a few minutes of time lazing around that could be spent playing 'who's at the door'. She knocks, you answer. Then repeat. Mostly I think she is just hanging around waiting for you to finish so she can comment on the goods and then flush for you. This is all very important. If she is denied her flush and commentary there will be tears and no secondary consolation flush will suffice. It must be an original to count. Of course...how could it not?

Back to the sink. Now I have a dilemma. Do I go save him? Do I quit what I am doing, drag her away, try to invent some alternate game to distract her, keep it going until he calls for a flush and then go back to the dishes...... Or, ignore it all and finish my job knowing that no one has died from lack of privacy and commentary, even if it is annoying to have a kid standing on your feet handing your paper in a very enthusiastic manner.

Some days I think we are all in training for some most-efficient-and-shortest-use-of-the-toilet prize. Or something. Then I realized that while he was gone during the week at work his ability to go under pressure probably got sloppy, due to all that privacy at the workplace, and this is some critical training time he is logging in there. It was my duty to leave them undisturbed. So I did. You're welcome dear.

The beginning of the end, or, The Sleep Thing.

2011-03-15T21:47:00.000-07:00

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. That pretty much sums up my last month. On the good side I feel like I have finally come up for air. The kid has finally cut her last two year molar meaning that we are done now. Hooray for no more late night screaming sessions and living on tylenol and tears. With the end of teething came some better eating so we are getting closer to what look like actual meals at generally acceptable meal times instead of the no meal, graze around, live on trail mix, juice and mommy. All three together mean I am finally getting some sleep. Like at least seven hours in a row on average. This is nothing short of a miracle and it looks like my mantra is finally becoming reality; she is eventually going to sleep.

Sometimes I forget how tired I have been. From the beginning she was nursing every two hours around the clock for the first seven months, then with solid foods she stretched it to a combination of three hour/two hour stretches. After a year she bumped it to a single four hour and many three hour intervals. She also added a full one hour hap in the afternoon instead of the usual 20-40 minute numbers a few times a day. At a year and a half the nap hit 90 minutes and nighttime to multiple four hour stretches. This fall, just before turning two, she started a single five hour stretch and officially did her first "sleep through the night" according to the average pediatrician. It helped that she could finally nap all by herself for two hours in the afternoon. Fast forward to March and I am finally getting 7 hour stretches and I feel human again.

In all honesty, the sleep thing has been a hard thing to talk about. Most of the time people either cannot relate or they think there is something wrong with our kid or us or both to have this kind of sleep pattern going on. Mention that she is still sleeping in our bed and the sound of crickets and judgement fills the air rapidly. If I'm in front of a medical professional forget it. I just say, "sure, she sleeps fine" and drop it because I just don't want to go there. It isn't worth it and it doesn't end well. Truthfully, if I thought there was a way to get more sleep in our house we would have done it, because who wants to wake up every three hours for a full year? I certainly didn't. At one time or another we we tried every going theory to see if it might prompt more sleep but it quickly became clear that this is just our kid and we were going to have to ride it out and do our best. I'm sure we aren't the only family out there not sleeping but I know how little we discuss it and I assume there are other people out there with similar stories.

Most of the time, I was too tired to explain it and deal with comments and criticism. I was too tired to be nice when I knew advice would be given, concerns voiced, and the obligatory you-know-what-worked-for-me-in-some-totally-unrelated-sleep-problem story started. Inside I know that people mean well and they are truly trying to help but I just didn't have the energy and there really wasn't anything more to say other than "what can you do?" Because sometimes there just isn't an easy answer and your just tired of being tired. Those are the days that some poor parent would complain about their relative sleep issues and suddenly we were playing the game of, I'll see your tired and raise you crazy exhaustion with a side of insanity. That game doesn't make it better for either party and it certainly isn't good for making friends.

A month at a time it was getting better. Slowly, but surely sleep was inching its way into our lives. This month when it finally arrived it brought with it every emotion I hadn't had time for in the past few years. I'm a bit more rested. Kid is playing by herself. Finally. There are decent naps and in short, I am getting a break. With that break I am having some space to ask the question that had all but disappeared from my life: How do you feel today? Almost every day for the past month has been spent some time in tears, angry, frustrated, jealous, elated, overwhelmed and all the nuances in between. All the stories that made me mad, all the ways I wanted things to be different, and all the things I loved about it all showed up en masse like some emotional UPS delivery.

It was all there, each emotion I put away so that I could get through this moment and into the next moment and make it through this day and the next day and then the next, finally found its way to daylight. It was good to do it, and it also enormously sucked. I don't recommend stuffing your emotions or pushing them away if you can help it. They don't go away and they don't diminish, they just wait for you to have the time. Like the present you don't want to open but it's taking up the entire room so there really isn't any choice. That one. I think I am finally all cried and upset out. For today anyway. I feel a whole lot more like me or at least who I remember me to be before I began this journey.

Talking about this crazy journey into parenthood and the nuances that color our particular story seems to help now more than ever. It's nice to feel like I finally have a voice, a little clarity and know that now I am ready to have a conversation about it all without falling to pieces. To know that I have the energy to talk is in itself good because it means I am getting past the daily survival part and into the life I imagined when we started. I know my idea of what is normal for infants and young children has changed dramatically and I hope for the better. Everyone has their story. This is a piece of mine.

Some favorite things I dug up for you.

2011-02-15T16:37:00.000-08:00

Looks like I don't have much to say so I decided to ~~plagiarize~~ reference fun posts I found on other peoples sites. But sometimes a girl just needs to have her Oprah moment and plug some cool things you find out there.

Kid and Mommy stuff I like:
I really wish I had known about Teething Necklaces earlier. Maybe I would have gotten more sleep. Next time I'll be ready.

There is a newer, cooler Sophie the Giraffe. Get one now and be the coolest mommy at playgroup.

Designed for the knitter or crochet lover in mind, I think they could also make great diaper bag/purses when you need that large bag to put all the stuff that goes with carting kids around while still looking like an adult accessory.

Do It Yourself Mania:
Someday, I am totally going to make this. I think this is the bed I always wanted, so I have to make it for my kid, or find someone who wants to make this. I'm obsessed.

Stuck inside in the rain and need something to do. The Crafty Crow has you covered.

In the, Laugh Till You Pee category:

Cracker Barrel and Explosive Diarrhea

As a former teacher, sometimes if you can get a genuine laugh out of something you might just give it a mark for creativity. And then you pass it around to everyone you know, giggle, and then hand it back to the kid with a straight face. This is the best one I have seen in a really long time.

February 10 on 10

2011-02-10T18:55:00.000-08:00

10 on 10 Photo Challenge

ten images taken on the tenth of the month for ten consecutive hours giving you a photo journal of one day. Today we went to the zoo, and Grover was my muse. I had way to much fun photographing him, I may have to try something like this again sometime.

Join the fun next month, or see what other people are doing today.

Grover got up early and helped me buy our yearly pass to the zoo.

To make sure he came along, he packed himself with the lunches.

He was so sure he could find some more "whatevers" at the zoo. Still looking.

He stands lookout while she attempts to sneak into the parrot enclosure.

Grover makes a great backpack in a pinch. Or maybe he was tired.

She got me to go down the rabbit hole. She kind of looks worried for me...

Totally psyched for the giraffes.

The main event is still the train ride. She didn't even care what animals we could see, and refused to look. Only the train!

Love this one, everyone looks great.

His last job of the day; help me make snacks for book club from the books recipe's. YUM!

When good laundry goes bad

2011-02-09T21:09:00.000-08:00

We have had quite our share of spills lately. Probably due to the need to use only cups lately and as a result my poor floors have had plenty of milk, juice and water to drink. I have been keeping a towel handy for just such a spill emergency. I thought it was genius. Until yesterday. Well, it might still be genius, but I'm biased.

Yesterday, Mike gets home and starts sniffing around the living room. It was garbage day, so this kind of thing isn't all that unusual given that garbage had been hauled around the house that day. This particular sniffing expedition went on a bit longer than usual, and I started to squirm. It got particularly bad when he asked me if there might be a errant piece of rotting fruit hiding somewhere. I admit that I am not going to win any awards for housekeeping. If you have been to our place and found it clean then you saw the result of the flight of the bumblebee that occurs just before company shows up. (You know you do it to). The rest of the time there are odds and ends on most every surface, even when I could swear I just straightened up. Again. But rotting fruit, that is a bit much, even for us.

My husband/bloodhound just won't let it go. I swear there is no rotting fruit under the couch or anywhere else, he swears something in the room is dying a horrible death, and of course, I can't really tell because if you spend enough time in your own stink you stop smelling it. I watch Hoarders, so I know these things.

At long last, we were both vindicated. I had abandoned one of my super genius mop up towels in a laundry basket stashed in the corner awaiting its turn in the wash, and there he found his stink. A towel with yesterdays juice spill getting it's fermentation on. Ooopsie, guess it is time to run a load. Just for the record, this was the first time anything like this has ever happened. Pinky swear, with sprinkles on top.

Todays Discoveries

2011-02-03T21:55:00.000-08:00

Today was met with the first decent night of sleep in a while. There was sleep, glorious sleep. Hooray!! As a reward for sleep I decided we should head out to our local Children's Museum and get some good playtime in. Sure it was a beautiful day outside. That just means everyone else is out in it and we got the place nearly to ourselves. So we did what we do best and we closed the place down.

First there was the building. It was a good thing the room was nearly empty because she never would have been able to make her own place with competition. It took a while to determine what to do here but with a little prodding and the discovery that the noodle went into the circle, joy was achieved. I got a kick out of how serious she was about making them fit just right. She turned them this way and then and then upside down until it fit just so. Then she played them like drums. Next time, a full fledged fort. I can't wait. This room was totally for the kids, no adults got engrossed the fort building process. None.

Moving on to our next location, the fascination with the musical carousel in the dark room continues.

A new favorite emerges, the sand table. Generally too crowded to get anywhere near, today being a slow day, she got a prime seat. Granted she poured as much sand onto her shoes as she did on the table, but I think she finally got a handle on the proper method for using a funnel.

There was even a brief stint by the mirrors placing multi colored pieces. It took some doing to convince her that she had to leave the pieces on the table when she was done. Then there was the terror of the mechanical butterfly above it that was so scary she refused to walk by the thing on her own the rest of the afternoon. That's my girl!

And when I said we closed the place down, we really did. They had the staff herding us toward the door and she still insisted we stop for one last thing and I had to drag her out of the place. The only sacrifice of the day was a missed nap, but considering how late she slept, I am hoping she goes to bed a bit early and gets up at a better time tomorrow.

Happy Thursday all!

My caterpillar tries out her butterfly wings.

2011-01-31T19:13:00.000-08:00

For the second time in four days I have experienced a parental failure. The first time it was Friday afternoon and we were out and about for the afternoon and evening. As I do, occasionally, I leave part of the gathering of the kid items to my fantastic husband. He is an amazing dad, but a horrible kid stuff packer. I think that as my entire life revolves around all things kid, I forget that not every adult on the planet knows how to pack for all possibilities that go with being out with a little kid for the day.
What I often forget is that Mike spends his day with adults at this thing called a job, and I am glad because without it there would be no money in the magic machine outside the bank. I do love that machine. As a consequence he doesn't live and breathe diapers and kid snacks and while I have a lengthy list of snack options and I know where all the spare diapers are stashed, he doesn't. I really should stop being irritated when he forgets the latest favorite snack, toy, sweater or whatever. That's my day job after all, I suppose I should just accept that and take point when it comes to packing. We have streamlined the process so that all we really need is a small pack of travel wipes and two diapers, misc snacks and sweaters. In my world this is the normal travel gear and I just assume that everyone would pack that thing with their eyes closed. And sometimes I think we do.

On this day, we grabbed and did not check. Or rather, he grabbed and I didn't check. Turns out it was just wipes and no diapers. So we were out for the day and when things got smelly, as they do, we took an emergency trip to Safeway for one diaper and ended up with a box of 60, because you know, we'll use them at some point and all that.

Then to reinforce my lack of packing ability, I went out today and discovered after a fateful trip to the park resulting in a traumatic and minor scrape, I discovered to kid horror that I did not have a band-aid. But I did have diapers, so I am getting there. Slowly.

In other news, I had all kinds of plans for today. We were going to get the house clean and run errands and all sorts of other basic chores that makes for a Monday. We didn't do any of it. Instead we did this.

We played. Well, I supervised and was the official spotter for all climbing activities, cheerleader, snack holder, shoe fetcher, and general audience to all things fantastic. On her end, there was digging and exploring, and despite a minor hand scrape, she soldiered on.

I'm fairly sure those red sparkly shoes are showing up all over the place. They are the current must-have-can't-leave-home-without-it item. And I hope that if she gets lost she knows to click her heels together three times and say the magic words.

There was a moment today, my mama moment. She has been fascinated with other kids for a while now and just hasn't yet discovered how to officially play with them. She wants to ask but just doesn't have the words. But today she tried.
With the new skill of saying her name, she tried her first introduction. She looked at the smallest kid there, who probably couldn't even talk, (they are safe you know) and it went something like this.

"Hi!"
Silence
"Hi!"
Silence
(Pointing to herself) "Ge-vieve" *repeat several times
(waving and motioning) "down now" "down now"
kid looking confused, wanders off

It was so sincere and so cute to see her try to say hi, introduce herself and then ask him to come down and play. Sadly, between her inexperience and the little one's lack of language, it was a lackluster event, but I was proud of her for trying. She is so painfully shy around other kids that it made me smile and get all warm and fuzzy to see her break out and try. Someday she will try with the right kid and he/she will get what she is trying for and she will officially make her first friend.

But for now, she is my buddy, as all little kids and their parents are BFF's until we become old and dorky and uncool and embarrassing and just-go-away-mom. I'm enjoying my fleeting status of best friend and playmate.

By the way, Ernie is currently re-enacting the fateful fall and resulting boo-boo. Maybe I'll go pack some Band-Aids now in preparation for tomorrow.

Weekend happenings

2011-01-30T19:01:00.000-08:00

Everyone over here has hit a wall this week. The teething is getting the best of us all. Those back molars are creating a zone of no sleep that just has to stop. Last night we were up from around 3am to around 7am enjoying every moment of upset and adding Tylenol until it stopped. Oy. I have a count going and so far there have been three nights of a solid 7 hours of sleep since she was born, and kid, if you are reading this, we would sincerely like more. This two and three hour business was old last year. I'm making sleep your new year's resolution. This year you will take pity on your parents and sleep. Please. With a cherry on top. Look how cute you are in your pajamas.... because I hear flattery will get you everywhere.

On a more positive note, we had a fantastic day at the zoo yesterday. Despite the drizzle, Genevieve and her cousins had a great time. The tortoise shells were a huge hit, even better than the actual tortoises. Personally, I think she makes quite the shelled critter.

We stopped at the petting zoo, and of course we didn't actually go inside. We admired the goats and pigs through the fence and she patted the blue piggy cutout with total affection, so I count it as a win.

On the bench dedicated to the lady known as "the keeper of the goats" we stopped for lunch. Here she is making her signature rounds on an apple. Once you get all the way around once, there is no need to keep going.

I think this is the official favorite photo of the day. She has this thing about looking our of the extreme corners of her eyes lately and I was so glad to see this photo turn out. The official question of the day: What is going through her mind in this shot?

Me and my buddy watching the Giraffe's. I admit that I have a certain fascination with the pattern and the long necks.

To end the day we took a ride on the carousel and after having such success she decided she had to ride in the cars. I told her she would have to ride alone, no mommy this time, and still she was trying to climb over the fence to get to her sparkly blue sports car. Oohhh it was going to be such a ride. She had visions of Route 66 flying through her imagination (maybe, who knows really).

She was totally into it, until it actually started moving. Stationary cars were a huge hit. Moving cars, not so much. They stopped the ride to let her off. The other kids were totally confused. Oops. Here are the final few seconds of disaster before heading to the car for a well earned nap.

The end. See you next time.

The book is here!

2011-01-26T10:23:00.000-08:00

I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. I have to give lots and lots of thanks to Kelle Hampton from Enjoying The Small Things for being the inspiration behind creating this book. Each time she has published on of her beautiful books I poured over them for ideas and inspiration and I am not ashamed to say that I did borrow some here and there and if you care to compare, I'm sure you will see where that occurred.

Without her posting her work I would never that even thought to do this much less march myself down to the store and spend $30 on a scrapbook program. After six months of tinkering, I have learned a lot about what I like and don't like. Now that I have the book in my hands I have learned even more about what I want to keep and change for next year. It is so nice to finally have ideas and inspiration flowing around in my head again. A few years ago, I would have told you that I wasn't this creative or even interested in doing this kind of thing. My how things change. What will the new year bring this time??

Click HERE if you want to see it for yourself and you just can't get into my living room for the real deal.

Where have you been?

2011-01-25T11:11:00.000-08:00

I'm sure that is the question most of you are asking, either that or you just remembered that this little space existed with the appearance of a new post. So, here I am again. Insert appropriate fanfare here.

There were so many times over the past weeks that I started a post only to decide halfway through that I was forcing cheerfulness and it wasn't cute, or that I was just pouty and whiny and that was equally not cute. In between that was just plain old periods of lethargy for blogging and a long list of things I would rather be doing besides trying to conjure up a story to tell. Mostly I was trying to decide what I wanted to do with this space, or more appropriately what I wanted to do with me. I've had the nagging feeling that it was time for some personal change and growth and as these things go, I don't adjust to change well even when I really, really want it (I'll get to that in a bit). So instead of trying to fill space for the sake of filling space, I just let it be.

Here is the sort-of-short version. To recap.

There was the fantastic second birthday of Miss. Genevieve on November 13. Complete with family and friends and presents and all the chaos that a house full of tiny people creates. It was great and I will do it all over again next year.

Then there was Thanksgiving. Ahhh turkey. And more family and more chaos and fantastic-ness. I finally took Alton Brown's advice and brined the turkey. The man knows his bird. I'm not sure I can do another turkey without marinating it in salty, broth-y water overnight again. It really did make all the difference. I also loved that I got to see my brother after a full year of missed connections and crazy schedules. Love you Tim!

The honey turned it a really dark color and for a minute I thought we killed it. It was fantastic!

Probably my favorite photo of the day. Daddy and his girl doing dishes after dinner.

Christmas. After many chilly evenings checking out the neighbors Christmas lights like it was our civic duty to inspect each and every house, we probably had the best handle on the lights situation of anyone in our neighborhood.

Christmas Day itself, I didn't host, and it was really nice to get up and leave a mess behind us and go to someone elses' house for food and merriment. I brought the deviled eggs and our usual gift exchange packages, but we left with a little something extra.

Checking out Santa's gifts.

She smiling because she knows she is stealing his toy... and she likes it.

Meet Ernie. He is contraband. Stolen from a child. Okay, so our kid took him from her cousin on Christmas Day, and to be honest he wasn't all that broken up about it because he is too little to know about mine and yours and take it seriously. My kid. Well, my kid is a smiling thief. She walked in the door and scooped him up the moment she saw him. As a new Sesame Street convert, she recognized him immediately and had to have him. They played together all day and she told him all her secrets and when it was time to go home, she refused to part with him. We assumed we would take him home and then return him the next time we got together. Nope. The next day she awoke just as enamored with Ernie and he has lived here since his abduction. We think he has Stockholm Syndrome and now he can't go home. As you can see from the photo, he gets a thorough little girl treatment each day with his clip and sympathy Hello Kitty Band-Aid.

As a side note, don't put band aid's on plush toys if you can help it. It is going to take some skillful work with a razor blade to get that thing off his finger without destroying the doll. Basically, Erne is going to have to have surgery to get that thing off. Sorry little man.

In case you are wondering how we handled the fact that our child stole something. We did what any good parent would do. We bought a new one and slipped it into the original Ernie's place as soon as possible so he would appear to have been there the whole time. The cousins totally think their Ernie is safe at home with them. Whew! That was close.

If your are still here, then congratulations on hanging in there for the Life of Lisa marathon post. You are a real trouper. *Hugs*

So what is in store for the new year you ask. Okay, I'll give you a sneak peek. First, I am determined to learn how to use that fancy new camera my in-laws gave me for Christmas and as the proud owner of Lightroom you shall soon be amazed at the photography coming your way.

Then I decided we were bored (Mike was thrilled), and rearranged the furniture in every room in the house, threw out a bunch of stuff and marveled that it didn't even look like it, and then decided I needed a few good projects.

I have also finally decided that the baby weight that never left have Genevieve was born, and has now officially become just plain old weight after hanging around for two years, has to go. Seriously, enough is enough already and if we can ever get around to having that second baby it will be nice to have a moment where I didn't look pregnant before I do again.

Lastly, because inspiration seems to be around right now, I threw myself into the idea of starting a website. I have been rolling an idea around in my head for a long time and it finally occurred to me that the someday-I-am-going-to-do-this thing needs to just happen or someday is going to really be never. So hopefully I will have something to report in a few weeks as that gets more concrete.

So Happy New Year, because Chinese New Year totally counts. Or rather, Gung Hay Fat Choy! Hooray year of the Rabbit! Now where is my red envelope....

December 10 on 10

2010-12-11T00:03:00.000-08:00

Here is a look at this months 10 on 10; ten images taken on the tenth of the month for ten consecutive hours giving you a photo journal of one day. Join the fun next month, or see what other people are doing today.

Supervising the oatmeal, just to make sure I did it correctly.

Everybody gets dressed, baby first.

When you get your furry friends in one place you take advantage of the situation.

Dirty dog gets clean, everybody gets wet.

Grab something clean to wear

in the car = socks and shoes off

(I missed an hour when I got my haircut. Oops.)

coffee break

ride the elevator while we wait for our table to be ready across the street.

(missed a bit in the dark restaurant and car ride home. Oops again)

get a little too happy when another holiday card takes its' place on the wall

cup of tea before bed

Good night everyone!

10 on 10 Photo Challenge

2010-11-11T00:44:00.000-08:00

This is my first try at this. The idea is to take a photo an hour for ten consecutive hours and capture the little moments in the day as they happen, it is called the 10 on 10. I was interested in this as soon as I read about it and have managed to miss the 10th for the past few months. I finally put in on my calendar as an appointment so I wouldn't forget. When I was little one of my favorite books was Richard Scary's book, What Do People Do All Day. I would spend hours looking at all the pictures of all animals working at all the jobs and hunting for the worm in each picture. Kind of like Where's Waldo for preschoolers. This photo challenge seemed like a fun way to get a peek into my own life and see a chronology of what I am doing all day once a month. Some day I may look back on these posts and find it amusing or sentimental or silly or something. With that in mind, I decided to give it a shot and give you and me a peek inside an entire day instead of a moment or an hour of a specific activity.

I have been slowing becoming more and more of a photo geek these past few months and when Eric graciously offered to lend me his Nikon D70 I was so excited. Now all I have to do is learn to use it off of manual mode. These things take time and I was feeling good about learning how to shoot with it and feel comfortable with it in my hands. Now I think it is time to break out the book and learn to take pictures with the training wheels off. That is a whole other day, today I had some fun, took some shots and enjoyed it all.

Not that today was a special day. We got up, did out thing as usual with the big adventure being that today I was making cookies for Genevieve's second birthday party on Saturday. Desiree and Lucio came over to help with the rolling and cutting of sugar cookies, and they did a fantastic job! Otherwise, just a wednesday. Here are all the wonderfully ordinary moments of our day.

Good Morning Sunshine!

Sugar cookie time!

Circles are cut, now to chill before initials are cut out of the centers.

My own version of Martha Stewart's kid's birthday party ideas. Yeah me!

A little lunch to add to the cookie dough and sprinkes that were the hors d'oeuvres.

reduce the energy a bit

Getting the park out of her socks on the way home.

naptime!

a little post nap chap stick is a good thing

She's trying to opt out of dinner and ordering take-out. Sorry kid.

There you have it, my ordinary day.

A walk in the park

2010-11-02T21:36:00.000-07:00

Somedays we have nothing in particular planned, so I decide to do something that I think will be a lot of fun. Today I decided we should pack a lunch and the dog and head to the lake for a stroll and some park time. We almost made it. I said the phrase, "Let's go for a walk today", and before I could blink kiddo ran for the leash and was ready to go. NOW. No waiting. So we did. Scrap the lake and the scenery and we just went out the door. Why not, you can walk anywhere and I'm told you can find adventure in your own backyard, so we went out to find some.

This past weekend, Genevieve discovered walking the dog. She loves it. We have gone out every day for some kind of walk as an excuse to get her a little leash time. The dog thinks it a good idea too. The first time it happened I got a call from my husband, "meet me at the corner with the camera, this is really cute!" This is what was happening.

She is so proud of herself when she is holding the leash and she takes it very seriously. I'm sure she was absorbing all those episodes of The Dog Whisperer I was watching when she was really tiny. To his credit the dog is a real sport about the whole thing. With her at the helm checking every leaf and rock it is the slowest walk ever recorded and he slow motions it for her without pulling or complaining. If this keeps up, he might even let her hug him.

I had all kinds of visions of the playground, but after walking the dog all the way there and then bumping her head a few times she was not having it anymore and plopped herself down under a tree instead. So we had a picnic. Why not.

Someday I'm going to get an actual blanket so we don't end up with wet pants at the end of snack time.

She had me open everything so we could have the sample platter version of snack time. Apple, cheese, crackers, smoothie and grapes. Oooh the grapes.

Those were a big hit. It was around here that she realized I was staging a photo shoot and her inner performer came out to play.

We spent the next few minutes taking turns saying "CHEESE!" as loud as possible as many times as possible. At one point I had to get her nose out of the lens in order to continue.

CHEESE!

There was twirling and swirling and general merriment. The dog is clearly excited to be out of the house. Poor guy, I think he would have preferred a bit more mileage.

Mommy and me portrait before we head home. I forget how nice it is in the shady grass on a warm fall day. I'm trying to soak it all in before the cold hits and we are bundled up in sweaters and scarves and the idea of sitting barefoot in the shade with your toes digging in the grass is not a warm and fuzzy idea. For now, sunglasses and sandals on and head for home.

On the way home I found my magic. The thing I didn't know I was looking for when I went out today. When you walk really slowly all sorts of things can be found and appreciated. A few houses down a neighbor has this in their yard. It reminds me of fairy tales with fairies and wood nymphs and gnomes and all the magical creatures that are around us and we never know about. It made me smile to think that somewhere in this tree is the the magical creature smiling at the passers by, awaiting his winter slumber as the leaves turn colors and fall.

Happy discoveries outside your doors!

My found artist

2010-11-01T20:11:00.000-07:00

Monday's are always quiet around here. There is cleaning and laundry and all the usual household stuff that needs to been done each week. Today is no exception. Somedays I get a certain groove going with the over and over nature of the chores. Pick up the bits and pieces, room to room. Stop to play and tickle a tummy, back to circling as this and that get put back in their place. Laundry in, turn it over, laundry out, repeat. I hit my zen moment today in a laundry groove. Kiddo was playing happily doing her thing and I was doing mine. It was an oddly peaceful experience.

At some point I pulled a load of laundry out of the dryer and put the basket on the floor. Distracted by some vitally important task, I walked away. Alone on the floor my laundry was rapidly turned into an art project.

Step one, get it all out of the basket. Use as much gusto as possible.

Step two, get in there and really get a feel for your medium.

Step three, center yourself. Clear your mind, let the art come to you.

Step four, let the creativity flow. Don't be afraid to use structure already available in your work.

Yeah, there is a ladder in the middle of the room. A good supervised climb keeps her off the bookshelves and tables.

Channel your inner Jackon Pollock. Sprinkle, fling and swoosh.

Go wherever it takes you, but don't overwork your piece.

Perfection. Now walk away, sit back and enjoy your creation.

Ladies and gentlemen, the artist in residence!

Half an hour of bliss for both of us as she played her heart out and as I watched her bliss became mine. When it was all over it took less than a minute to get all the clothes back in the bin and heading for folding and drawers, but it had the satisfaction of knowing it was part of something special.

Taking candy from strangers

2010-10-31T22:03:00.000-07:00

I loved Halloween as a kid. We lived in a neighborhood that had only one other house with kids in it so we never had much Trick or Treat traffic on our street. If we opened the door ten times all night, it was a busy year. Sadly, we had to hide our pumpkins by 8pm or they would get kicked in by some lovely soul, but somehow it never really spoiled the experience.

We would trek around town until we found the good areas where all the houses had decorations and kids were all over the streets going door to door. It was like a carnival for kids and it was heaven. Last year Genevieve could barely walk so I knew that this year was going to be our first opportunity to test the Trick or Treat waters.

Off went to a Halloween party tonight, and in no time we were out with some friends and a herd of half a dozen toddlers taking over the block for our first Trick or Treat experience. To be honest I wasn't sure if it was going to happen at all. Our girl has a healthy fear of strangers and generally clings to me like a barnacle whenever new or newish people are around. She also wasn't a big fan of the ears that went with her costume. We went for it anyway, because you never know unless you try.

Our strategy to get her out of the house included a fantastic push car with the all important steering wheel. She was super enthusiastic about riding around in the car.

Sometimes with toddlers, there is safety in numbers and tonight was no exception. She had no idea what to do so having other kids around made those first few trips to the door virtually painless. Even if she was confused at that first house.

To be honest, she flat refused to go and I had to pick her up and plant her on the doorstep. Once the candy bowl came out she was sold. Mum on the Trick or Treat part, she happily stuck her hand in the bowl for candy and then waved and gave a happy "Bye" each time.

She would run down ahead of me proclaiming "yummies!" and holding it out for daddy to see. As you can see, she also decided to eat most of it on the way down the street because putting it in the bag for later wasn't really her idea of a successful Trick or Treat.

that all important M-me-knees made it home by some miracle.

I did half of the houses on the block, and then Daddy got his turn to take this old pro house to house.

We went as the Three Bears this year.

Turns out that when candy is involved, she is more than happy to wear her ears for as long as it takes to get the job done. Sacrifices for candy must be made.

With the lollipop in tow, she enthusiastically went to the next few houses and even let us put the candy in her bag. By the end of the night she was all smiles and having dinner in candy miniatures, I don't think I have ever seen her so happy to approach a stranger. Candy will do that you know.

She is going to be all about the Trick or Treat next year, I can tell.

Excuse me dog, are you done with that?

2010-10-17T22:06:00.000-07:00

It's another beautiful fall morning here in California. The rain is falling for the first time this season, we have plans to hit the children's museum with grandma. Basically, we have a lovely little weekend planned. As usual, I haul myself out of bed and head for the bathroom, coffee and then to discover what is on the menu for breakfast. In general I know I have a few minutes to head of disaster and any number of oddities, and today is no exception.

I won't say that what happened is some exception to normal around here, because it happens a more than I would like. On those mornings her little feat beat me to the front room and when that happens, when she is determined, I won't get a chance to pick up all necessary objects before her entrance into the morning. I know exactly what she is doing because I hear the dog start to fluff around and I know she is here. AGAIN.

Doing this

And really, really enjoying herself

I believe, "Mmmmmm!" were her exact words when I took this shot.

But mommy, these are just so good. Why would it be wrong? You told me sharing was good.

You still love me even though I smell like kibble, right?

Why she finds this to be the best breakfast over every other imaginable item in the kitchen I have no idea. Some days I even find a little hidden stash on the shelf so that she can still have some after I pick up the dish. Why? Why, must you do this?

six degrees of mommy's sanity

2010-10-14T16:57:00.000-07:00

We played this game again today. You know the one. How many moves does it take to take mommy from sane to insane, bonus if you get there in under six moves. I don't believe I have ever purposely started the game myself, but I know that we play it occasionally. Today we played in the grocery store.
We are having people over for dinner tomorrow and in an attempt to plan ahead, I decided to go to the store today. I also need to vacuum, but I am writing this instead. Priorities.

It's been nice and hot these past few days and hot days always translate into crazy kid and irritable mommy as there is no air conditioning and when the house hits 80 degrees inside no one sleeps well and we all just wait for cooler fall weather. So here we are on day four-ish of the heat and I decide to run some errands and take advantage of the air conditioning at Safeway while getting in and out quickly and without forgetting anything. I have a list and everything, because preparation helps me retain some sanity. Usually, we get in and out with minor fanfare and with a well timed snack I can do my shopping thing and she sits and chews away long enough to get in and out provided I keep it moving and don't go off list and browse anything. Today, I wasn't so lucky.

I believe this was partly the cause. Her energy today:

After thirty seconds of having her "help" me push the cart, it became clear that this just wasn't going to happen today. We barely made it in the door before she attacked the flowers and nearly pulled a display of oranges down by pulling on the bottom corner of the neatly stacked orange pile. So into the cart with a screaming, kicking toddler we go. It's good to start a trip inconspicuous. To make it through any isle I have to park her in the middle of the room so she can't reach anything, while simultaneously keeping one eye out in case she decided to make a break for it and try to climb out. This is not so good for any fellow shoppers and also why we do these things midday when traffic is low and full of slow moving retirees and other people with crazy children in their carts.

Instead of hearing her screaming up and down the isles, I took pity on all in hearing range and give her something to do. "Here hold the walnuts," is roughly what I said. This worked a little too well and after attempting to break into the bag through the side walls, she spent the next few minutes stuffing herself with walnut halves (????) and part of me felt bad because they are sold by weight and a larger part was happy to check eggs without watching for jumpers and nearly dropping things.

By the time we hit the dairy case the walnuts are old hat and she wanted to ~~hold~~ eat cheese. Right through the package. Mind you before we left we had lunch and she decided she wasn't hungry and refused most everything I offered, including some of the items she was now trying to eat out of the cart. Is cart cheese really that different from the slice I offered you before we left. You know, the one you told me was yucky and wouldn't eat? Apparently. And raw walnuts, really?

By the time I get to the register, I feel like a parrot that can only say, "No, don't touch that. Put that back. Don't eat that. We can open those when we get home". And curses to those that put so many candy boxes and magazines in that narrow isle at the register. We only rifled most of the reachable items by the time I had the cart unloaded, while grabbing her twice on her way out of the cart and shoving her back into the seat and looking around to see how many people were giving me the evil eye. I was lucky and some register malfunction in the line next to me was taking more available store attention than we were and I only annoyed the people directly before and after us. Hooray. I saw that eye-roll single guy with the hand basket. Do it again and I'll send her home with you.... she needs a nap and don't think I won't.

It's amazing what it reachable from the cart. It was a toss up between letting her reach the buttons on the credit card machine and risk canceling the entire transaction or charging who knows what and putting her near the pamphlets and other little stuff they keep right there by the check writing table. Neither became necessary as she opted to climb higher so she could see just what the checker was doing and give helpful tips. I kept up my mantra of, "sit down. Sit Down, SIT DOWN. thank you".

And then we fled before I lost my mind.

Sometimes I just go with it

2010-10-09T17:51:00.000-07:00

We got back from vacation and after spending two weeks reviewing the alphabet on every available writing surface, street sign and menu I decided to tackle a craft project. A few months ago I found a tutorial for quilted alphabet letters and put them on my to-do list. Sometimes I just can't help myself and I spend way too much time planning projects that never quite get started. When I saw the letters, I knew they were a great idea and hoped that if I bookmarked them that it would somehow translate into coming back later and making it happen. You can imagine my surprise when one of my many craft ideas becomes a potential reality and this week seemed like a good time to break out my inner Martha.
There was the fabric selection where I dug through all my piles of scrap fabrics and actually found twenty-six different swatches. I never have all the stuff I need right here in the house, finding all that fabric was a minor miracle. Letters were printed, batting was arranged, pinning and cutting and an enthusiasm that kept me up WAY too late one night. The time came to actually sew and I got all arranged and set up. All I had to do was wait until nap time. The excitement of it all!!
I settled kiddo into her bed and sat myself down to a long awaited project. After only an hour of sewing, my machine refused to hold the correct tension and decided that mid-project was the best time to go belly up and demand a tune up. Fantastic. Now I have three sad little letters finished and a bucket full of the rest, sitting there cut and on hold, mocking me. Oh well. It only took me a day to stop sulking. Apparently I have other things to do this week that are more important, I just don't know it yet.
Genevieve insisted on helping me with the project and by helping I mean playing with my pins and poking them into the couch over and over again for long periods of time. I had been putting them in the arm of the couch while I re-pinned a few of the letters and did some trimming. Apparently little eyes were watching and a new game was born.

I told her over and over that pins will give you an ouch-ie if you poke yourself, and I hovered like a helicopter while she did it, much to her frustration. You know, because she has so got this pin thing handled mom, go away.

To her credit, she did really well with them and the only one that walked away with an ouch-ie was me because I wasn't totally clear when I said don't poke yourself. I should have included not poking mommy in the leg just to see if it feels like the couch, which it might, but that is not the best option in my professional opinion.

Home away from home

2010-10-05T10:55:00.000-07:00

We had all kinds of plans for those first days. There were hours of internet searches to discover all the best and fabulous that greater Salt Lake City had to offer. We were ready. Set. Nausea?
Somehow in all that Google mania, I neglected to internalize that if you go from sea level to 8,000 feet of elevation in half a day strange things happen. Mostly, your body is very unhappy. It really took me half a day to determine that my lethargy and nausea upon standing and moving at anything close to a normal speed was a fun little thing called altitude sickness. I was sooo not going to get that. And then I did, and Mike did and we were a sorry group.
We forced ourselves up and out and drove down the mountain to 4,000 feet and I actually felt the air thicken and my stomach settle. We found a local park and laid low. We went to the grocery store and bought cereal and milk and lunch fixin's. It was so much like being at home it was scary, but then I had left the laundry and my to-do list at home so it was still heaven and I had my Starbucks in the park and I just didn't care. So what if I can do this at home. I like coffee in the park and a book. So what... it's my vacation.
In all seriousness we found all kinds of cool things we wanted to do. Great little shopping towns to wander and window shop, hikes, train rides through the mountains and boat rides of the lake. There were restaurants with views and spa treatments and little bistro's with music in the evening. But then I remembered that we toted a toddler along with our luggage and most of that wasn't very kid friendly. So we regrouped and went another direction. We went casual. There were lots of days when we stayed at Snowbird and just enjoyed the mountain air and a spash in the hot tub. There was lounging, lots of lounging. Even the smallest of us got their lounge on. First thing in the morning while we take showers she likes to watch her show. If you live in our house you can sing the theme song to Jack's Music Show anywhere, anytime. It's a staple.
Genevieve rigged up her own idea of cozy and here is what we found.

Later Mike decided she needed a chair that was her size and he put a pillow on top of a suitcase and she was good to go for the week.

I think we created a monster. We bought four episodes on iTunes before we left to have some airplane sanity in the iPod and it turned into computer = Jack's. Mike came around the corner to find this:

Apparently she had originally been placed on the chair with the computer pushed back a bit to keep her from pushing buttons and killing the entire thing. Clearly she interpreted that as get-up-on-the-table-and-use-that-extra-space-to-push-buttons.
I swear, we got out. There was a fantastic playground on site and she spent her time driving anything with a wheel. It's her thing.

Or driving here

This space allowed room for passengers, and by passengers it means mom and/or dad sitting on the ground behind her making 'vroom, vroom' noises. First kids get all the good attention.

The grounds were really beautiful. I love the Aspen trees that surround the evergreens with splashes of yellow and gold autumn colors. Groves of trees and hidden bridges to nowhere.

The last of summer's flowers hanging on in the sunshine. Weeks before the snow covers their happy faces in crisp white. Warm and so very dry in the high mountain air. Sometimes walking with little kids makes me see things I would ordinarily take for granted. Rays of sun and shadows, flowers, tiny bugs and smooth rocks. Slow is good.

This creek was an ocean to be crossed, or swum, and we did both.

To wade or not to wade....

Definitely wade

That water was pure melted snow from somewhere and so crisp is made her say "Oh!" Not too cold to stop though. There wasn't a lot of place to roam, but there really isn't anything quite like dipping your toes in the cold mountain water.

We gave it a few days before to let ourselves adjust to the 8,000 feet at the base before we took the ride to the top at 11,000 feet. It was beautiful at the top, and very harsh.

We didn't stay very long, although the view was amazing, after half an hour kiddo was ready to get out of her pack and I didn't trust her with so many severe cliff faces available to tumble off of with gusto and abandon.

We did get to talk to the guys parasailing from the top. I've never seen them take off and it is really tedious work to get everything just right but once they are off they can go for hours.

We said goodbye to the mountain top, waved hello to the other gondola as it passed us by, and she hung onto the rail because it was the thing to do. Just in case she needed extra stability.

Back on the ground our girl has been watching the grown-ups and their running form. She has notices that they all hold their arms at their sides and is trying hard to adopt the form. She starts with a series of poses to get it right and practice for her future in body building.

Once satisfied with her form, she takes off and is very serious about holding her arms just right. Unless she forgets and relaxes and then has to start all over again. I get such a kick out of watching her practice her running form.

Lets not forget accessories. A good pair of sunglasses are truly essential.

If you can get them to stay on. Pesky things those glasses.

That's our adventures on the mountain. We also cruised Oktoberfest and rode the chair lift over and over up to the zip line and walked down the path. Free entertainment rocks.

Vacation. It came and went all too fast.

2010-10-04T11:36:00.000-07:00

I really had the best intentions for this blog over the past two weeks. I lugged my computer to Utah and back with a sincere belief that I was going to relax in the evening every now and then and get a post or two done of all the adorable things that were happening on our family vacation. Oops.
Here is what actually happened. ~~I lugged~~ Mike lugged all our crap to Utah in the car and I flew with the kid and then hopped a shuttle to the hotel. I was so stressed out about taking our non traveler, scream in the car seat, kid on the plane I could barely breathe. I had visions of going insane mid-air with a screaming unhappy kid and nowhere to go. Something like this:

Instead it was more like this. We took the mid-day flight so worst case we missed a nap and not a night of sleep, and it was only two-ish hours on the plane. I was stacking my cards for survival for this first trip and I had snacks and games to prove it in my 1,000 lb backpack of merriment. Lucky for me, first impressions went well and once she saw my $3 rental airport cart at the curb, she was totally go for vacation. She pushed our carry-on and the car seat and I kept us from careening into other passengers and the watch sellers merchandise all at a snails pace. Sorry über commuter passing us with that sideways glance, because yes, we are in fact on vacation.

She discovered she could hang from the bar while I pushed and although we were part Cirque du Soleil part security nightmare we were all happy airport goers. And just in case you are ever wondering, yes you can fit that entire cart in a handicapped stall in the ladies room of the Oakland airport (although not in Salt Lake). I was totally _that_ mom in the airport and for once I just didn't care, you're not supposed to leave your luggage unattended and there was no way I was getting on a plane with anything in my bladder.

After waving goodbye to every plane we could find and giving each one an enthusiastic send off complete with "bye" and "home" to every passenger in the terminal, we took our seats. A bag of crackers and this was her new favorite car.

She only kicked the seat in front of her most of the flight. I think the lady was just glad she was quiet. Sorry unknown passenger lady.

The highlight. Snacks. I got none. She ate the crackers, string cheese, both packs of peanuts and most of my ginger ale. I did get some apple juice, and a happy traveler. I think it's fair.

She was so excited about all the new and exciting things that were happening she ~~forgo~~t refused to sleep. At 6:00pm we finally made it into our room. She passed out for probably the latest recorded nap in history and kicked off what would become a horrid schedule of late naps and even later bedtimes and I headed out to check out the view and some mountain air. Hellooooo vacation!

This was the view from the balcony. There was also a hot tub out there. Which brings me back to why I never got around to writing anything. Each time I would get a few minutes of free time in the evening, I would get a cup of tea and sit down at the table with my computer. In front of me was an amazing view and a hot tub of warm water bubbling away. A few glances between the balcony and the table and back to the balcony and I was gone. The hot tub won out every time over the screen and as I slipped in front of a bubbling jet I would promise myself that I would do it tomorrow during nap time. Oh well. Better late than never, right?

Carousels and steams trains

2010-09-12T21:32:00.000-07:00

What do you do when you have a free saturday? We gathered up the family and headed out to Berkeley to experience all the good playtime that Tilden Park had to offer. After the sheep incident the last time we saw farm animals, we skipped the small farm and headed straight for the carousel.

We decided to play it safe and skip the moving animals in favor of something simple to be Genevieve's first introduction to riding the carousel. We found a bench that had miniature horses that were stationary and immediately I knew that this was our horse. We saddled up and I grabbed out the camera to document the big moment.

She got all wide eyed and just took it all in. The colors, the sounds, the people. She wasn't quite sure why she was on this little horse, but she humored us. Once it started moving though, she was fascinated.

She sat so still, just looking. The music played and kids squealed in delight. She took it all in, safe on her horse. I'm glad we picked the stationary one, because although she enjoyed it, she was a bit nervous and I think a traditional moving horse would have been too much. This way, the whole thing was fun and she will want to do it again next time.

From there we headed to the steam trains. Truth be told my husband loves those trains and was really excited to take his girl for her first ride. She fell in love with those tracks immediately.

We had to wait a while to get a open car and she spent the entire time roaming the extra tracks and marveling at all the rocks.

I love that she fits perfectly between those tracks.

From here to there and back again. I'm fairly sure if we had left after half an hour of playing on the spare tracks, she would have been happy all the same.

We did finally get our chance to ride. I'm told our conductor for the day actually rebuilt the engine himself. He was really sweet and so excited to be taking people for a ride on "his engine".

We had a great ride and Genevieve loved it so much she cried when it was time to go. Luckily, we had one extra ticket. Turns out that kids under 2 ride for free so we still had one ticket left. One more trip it is while dad goes to get the car. She was thrilled. Then she found an apple in my bag and her day was perfect.

Happy Saturday everyone!

Art and Wine Festival

2010-09-10T21:47:00.000-07:00

We spent a weekend recently at a local Art and Wine Festival. My husband was working this particular Saturday so we decided to stop by and wander around together. Genevieve wasn't nearly as excited about the booths as she was about finding a bike rack to swing and hang from. Turns out it was just the perfect hight to walk under without having to duck, and that makes it the perfect sidewalk toy.

Shortly after this my little pride and joy walked up to a random stranger, pointed to his snack and said yummy. Before I could get there and say, "No, that is his food" and all those good mommy words, he smiled at her and handed over a chip. She was thrilled, and I wanted to be mad but all I could manage was a silent giggle and then I dragged her away with offers of her officially sanctioned snacks. Oh well.

She did really well on patrol. She strutted her stuff with daddy and wanted nothing to do with me and that silly stroller. She had work to do.

Only a few people thought she was a poor lost kid. My husband had to tell a few well meaning grandmas that it was his kid and no, she wasn't lost. That's my wife there with stroller and camera.

Another highlight of the afternoon was this glorious thing she found in a shop window. We stopped for nearly ten minutes to admire the workmanship.

Oh the joys of a good fan. It's her newest obsession. I don't know why.

We got faire food. We looked at all the local art and appreciated the various musical talent. There came a point in the afternoon when she decided it was time to go home and nap. She was very subtle about it, but we caught on fairly quickly.

One minute she was running down the street and jumping off curbs, the next she just flopped under a tree in a parking space. That was it. It's like the bat signal. When she sits down or in this case, lies down on the street, she is done. So we took our cue and headed home. It was a good day.

Like walking into an oven

2010-08-25T13:59:00.000-07:00

Remember when I was complaining about this summer being really kind of cold? I think the weather heard me and decided to show up in force this week. I don't think we have had many days over 73 degrees and even fewer over 80. We live not far from the San Francisco Bay and the water being the best insulator around, hovering around the low to mid 60's at this time of year. So when the thermometer hit 98 yesterday and 101 today it really took me by surprise.

It was an instant flashback to growing up in the central valley where summer temperatures are generally in the upper 90's and low 100's. It didn't take me long to remember what we did on all those hot summer days... get wet! So I rolled out the kiddie pool that has been hiding away waiting for a hot day and hosed all the spiders out.

Once I put the hose in, the fun began.

Our dog has a serious thing for the hose. The running water filling the pool was too good to resist.

The built in slide was a huge hit.

Repeat as necessary, until exhaustion.

Being stuck inside on a hot day always makes me tense, but sitting outside on the grass under the shade of a tree has an immediate calming effect. Plus watching a kid get lost in the bliss of play is another happy place I love to visit.

The corner seat reminds me of something you normally find in a hot tub. It even has a cup holder, although I cannot imagine what kid needs a cup holder in a pool.

What's with all the photos?

Even if it was a bit hotter than I would have needed to experience a good summer day, it turned into a really good one. Just add water.

She's in the middle of everything

2010-08-24T11:09:00.000-07:00

We've spent a large portion of the past few weeks taking short trips here and there for the weekend or a few days each. While the story of those adventures could be discussed here I will skip it in favor of the quirky and fun things I discovered about my traveling with my kid in the past few weeks.

You can get anywhere as long as you stop a lot at the park for lunch and playtime. We scoured the map for good stopping places and neighborhood parks. A lot of work, but worth the effort once we were back in the car.

When checking in to a hotel, if you get distracted for a moment, your tiny monkey will amuse herself just fine without any help from you. Just get her before the staff notices...

Hotel rooms are fantastic for a few reasons. One, you get to play with the phone all the time. She played so much that it got unplugged to keep from unintentionally calling anywhere. The lack of dial tone didn't seem to bother her at all.

I learned that she doesn't get vertigo like I do when staring down from really high hotel windows. She loves it and will push a chair across the room to get to a windowsill and look down.

Bright flashing lights and lots of people are a sight worth stopping to admire.

When using the elevator it is imperative that you let the kids push all the buttons, and the ride is only good if you stand in the exact center of the elevator floor every time.

Whenever possible stand in the circles or spots on carpet, tiles or any other geometric shape you find.

She was really careful to find the center of the shapes.

Lastly, if there is a bathtub available, you should always watch cartoons while taking a bubble bath. It's like heaven.
I think that is good advice.

You turn your back for a second..

2010-08-21T18:37:00.000-07:00

I try to keep my backyard from being overrun with the most recent brand of weeds. Yesterday I was doing my best to take back a portion of the yard. Mike was in the yard to prevent any kid related tragedy so I felt it was a safe opportunity to focus my attention and get some real work done. I was happy with the progress being made when I hear the words, "Oops! What are you doing?" and turn to see this..

Clearly having two people to supervise is not a guarantee of things running smoothly. She was really proud of herself for getting there all on her own.

Ta Da!! I got here all by myself!

Did I tell you about this cool thing I found?

2010-08-19T20:40:00.000-07:00

Okay, so here are a few of the nutty things I found this week while doing some surfing. Maybe you will like them too...

1. So I am such a sucker for Do-It-Yourself stuff that I think I am going to set myself up at the hardware store and get myself going on some cool kid furniture with Land of Nod look for Home Depot prices. Knock-off Wood is where I go to dream.

2. Trying to find something to do with your kids this afternoon? This place will give you some new ideas.

3. I didn't know I wanted to see Genevieve in a smocket until now.

4. Almost free to make, fun to build and when you are done and it's just a mess you can't stand... it's off to the recycle bin with you. Love it!

5. Love her video, her blog is here.

6. Okay, I borrowed this, but it's still funny.

It's August right? So when does summer weather start?

2010-08-17T10:05:00.000-07:00

This summer has been really cool here in California. Most days it is in the low seventies. Somehow all my summer photos this year involve sweaters and long pants....hmmmmm. While it is a lovely temperature to be out and about, if you are a kid that loves the water it is a bit cool for running through the sprinklers and going to the beach when the water is always in the mid 50's. For that it's better when it is at least 80 degrees.
This week we got tired to waiting for warmer weather and headed to the shore with our sweatshirts. Before we left, Genevieve decided to get herself all dressed up as only a toddler can do.

When she felt her outfit was complete with bangles to fit the occasion, we loaded up and headed for the beach. The wind was blowing and sweatshirts were required. She didn't let that stop her from having a great time with a shovel and pail.

It took a while to convince her that dumping all of the sand on our towel was not the best place for buckets of sand. She agreed and opted to dump it into the stroller instead. Sigh. At least there it wasn't heading into my eyes. While she moved sand around, my toes enjoyed themselves.

It turns out that sand doesn't taste very good. As usual, it takes a few minutes to remember this kind of important information.

However, sunglasses are a great accessory in the afternoon sun.

When you are wearing glasses, earrings look much more interesting than they do otherwise. Desiree was thankful to get her ear back in one piece.

They may even give you x-ray vision. It is best to run around and check the area for buried treasure.

Sadly, that day there was no obvious treasure to be discovered, so she settled for a cup of ice and some goldfish on the road home. It was still fun, even if it was still a bit cool to go in the water.

Blue trees and inspiration

2010-08-16T10:09:00.000-07:00

We have been out and about a lot in the past few weeks and one of the stops we made was an afternoon in Sonoma County wine country. We started our afternoon out and about tasting Olive oils at Jacuzzi Winery. Wandering around gloriously happy to be out on a date with the kiddo tucked away with Grandma for the afternoon, we sampled the various olive oils and milled about gift shops in adult happy land. With a olive oil storage bottle tucked under my arm we made our way down the street for a little champagne on the terrace of the Gloria Ferrer winery. After our tasting high on the hill, overlooking a valley of vineyards we headed out with nowhere in particular in mind. Thankfully we got stuck in traffic on our way out and saw this peeking above the fence at the property across the street.

The odd blue tree caught my eye and we pulled in to see what it was. (The tree is dead, and wrapped in christmas ornaments the designer painted blue so that when viewed from the chairs underneath, it will "disappear into the blue sky" and it kind of does). What we discovered was a little hidden gem called Cornerstone Gardens. While the wine, olive oil and champagne was lovely this garden was truly memorable and different place to spend a few hours. It is divided into small plots that are used by various artists to showcase their particular vision. Some were interesting, some fun, and some downright strange so of course I loved it, and it was totally worth the price: Free. My kind of place. We got there a bit late that day and made a point to come back the next afternoon on our way home with the whole crew.

Native grasses garden. Genevieve thought this was a fantastic place for a romp. I thought they were amazingly soft.

Nine extra mini holes of mini golf, each an homage to a landscape architect that inspired the creator. I didn't totally get it, but it was a lot of fun to walk through even if all the concrete made it the hottest of all the spaces.

The wish garden. Sadly there was no more ribbon for us that day. Our wishes were unofficial, but made with all sincerity.

Pinwheel flowers the length of the grass. Very cool effect and very kid friendly.

This was a very cool space to rest out of the hot sun, and who can resist an adult sized tunnel?

The children's garden was a highlight with the dripping water to run through. I personally loved the colorful owl boxes at the back. I might need some when I finally have a yard large enough to make them look cool.

Aside from the water, there were grapes and strawberries planted for the kids to interact with. For Genevieve this means pick and eat your fill, which I'd imagine, is exactly what they had in mind. The giant ~~dog~~ kidhouses dotted about with chairs inside were a hit all in themselves. If I didn't think it would end up a spider haven I would seriously consider some pink paint and plywood and give it a go... heck, I might anyway just for the novelty of it.

For some reason I am in love with these sculptures, but not the $8,000 per piece price tag. Some day I am going to hit up Home Depot for rebar, PVC pipe and then Michael's for paint and have myself a craft day where I make my own knock-off version of this and proudly display it in my garden. I'm almost sure I can Martha Stewart the crap out of this thing.

I love finding inspiring little gems like this when I am am looking for something else entirely.

What my toddler taught me

2010-07-26T19:11:00.000-07:00

Today I learned that mustard makes a great paint medium. It works equally well on paper as it does on skin. You may end up smelling like a deli but it washes off well with water. If you feel so inclined you can also use it to make lunch.

Oh... I also learned that crayon wipes off the dishwasher fairly easily with a scrubby sponge, some elbow grease. As an extra bonus you can throw in a mommy scowl when you also find crayon on the walls and a dining room chair. I swear it must have been my husband that left an errant crayon around. I would never do such a thing. Now off to find myself a magic eraser, it seems like a handy thing to have around.

Harvesting Marigold seeds

2010-07-23T14:47:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid there were always Marigolds planted in the yard. I loved the sunny yellow, orange and red flowers. As the season wore on we would collect the spent blooms and harvest the seeds.

If you haven't had the pleasure of doing it yourself, it is a great thing to do with kids and it can keep them busy for quite a while. Just make sure they don't pick the fresh blossoms!!

1. Find a container to hold your seeds. I like using mason jars because they have mesh screen tops so the seeds can continue drying after harvest and nothing gets moldy. Then, gather the spent blossoms from the plant. Make sure you get the whole thing, including what I'll call the casing.

2. Each single flower petal is attached a seed hidden inside the casing. To get to it, tear the casing down to the base. In the really dry blooms, they might just fall out!

3. The black portion of each petal are the seeds.

4. Shake them loose, and repeat for each bloom.

5. Before you know it you will have a whole jar full of colorful seeds and blooms ready for the next season.

6. Keep them for yourself or put a pretty ribbon around the jar and give them as gifts. I loved giving them to relatives for Christmas as a kid and seeing the flowers the following summer when I visited.

Have fun with your Marigolds. Happy Growing!

Ode to Crayons

2010-07-17T20:48:00.000-07:00

Oh Crayons, how you make me happy. Your simple colors make such lovely swirls, stripes, lines and ziz-zags. Such a simple idea- just a stick of colored wax, and yet so important.

A sheet of paper taped to an end table, a small garden chair and some colored wax and we are in business. Contented silence broken by the occasional squeal of delight when a particularly fantastic line is added.

Tiny feet dangle oh so close to the floor.

Together in harmony we work. She, creating her masterpiece, and me, creating another folded stack of laundry that happily, I only had to fold and stack once.

These are the simple, little, everyday moments that make me smile. Crayons and creativity go hand in hand.

My garden helper

2010-07-13T11:00:00.000-07:00

Hobbies are something I have really missed since having Genevieve. I just haven't had the time to sit down and do anything creative for so long and it feels really good to finally have a project going again. Not that it hasn't taken ten times longer to do it this time than ever before but it was still very satisfying to look at my garden and watch it grow. If I can keep her from taking all the flowers off my marigolds in the name of helping me weed the garden I will be very happy.

Cucumbers, tomatoes and squash.

beans, collards and watermelon.

basil and pomegranate.

Part of the reason for putting the garden in was having a reason to be in the backyard. Genevieve is all about playing outside and there are only so many hours I can sit and watch her move dirt around before going crazy. Having the garden gives me something to do myself and something to have her help me with. Plus I will get some great produce and that is the most appealing part. There really is nothing like home grown tomatoes.

As always, I had the best help available for each step in the process.

She loved these gloves so much I had to break out a second pair just to get the job done, but seriously, how cute are kids in oversized adult clothes?

She was right there for all the shoveling and planting and repotting. With her gloves on she was a formal part of the process and took her job very seriously. She even had her own pot so that she could move all the dirt her heart desired from one pile to another and back again.

I admit that I am hovering around the garden, anxiously awaiting my first harvest.

neglect can get you killed

2010-07-12T17:53:00.000-07:00

Sorry my friend, I wasn't paying attention today. I thought I was saving you from certain death lying there on the table. I put you in my purse and went out to run errands. It was the glitter and bigness of Costco. You know how I get when I go in there. I kept you safe the entire trip and made sure you were handled gently when you were fished out and dangled. Then it happened. I turned my back for just a moment and you were the victim of the day. I loaded the car thinking all was well. By the time I heard the tell-tale, "Uh-Oh!" it was too late. You had been dismembered beyond repair.

You have served me well, may you rest in peace.

The Watermelon Incident

2010-07-03T11:53:00.000-07:00

Score one for the watermelon. Although I don't think it would have stood a chance if I'd had full nasal functioning. That's my excuse. My nose has been all stuffy for the past few days and aside from watching Genevieve learn how to blow her nose into a tissue from watching me do it a million times, I didn't really think there was much going on around here. Until last night.

After all the dinner, bath and bedtime routine was finished we were in the living room and Mike looks at me as says, "do you smell that?"
I give him the look that says, seriously? Can you see the kleenex? What I actually said was, "Nope, I smell nothing, sorry."

He continues sniffing around declaring that either there was pee around or something was fermenting. Both of things we have in our house. The first is a potty training toddler, so the pee could very well be true. Second we have fruit and garbage cans so the fermenting could be the food scraps, that I can't smell, needing to be taken out. He sniffs around a bit and can't find anything unusual so I assume he is smelling garbage and take that out.

Fast forward to this morning. I get up, still stuffy and walk out to the kitchen for breakfast with a hungry kid who wants to go to the pool as she was promised, and I smell it. You know it was bad if I smelled it through the stuffy. Mike comes around the corner after me and together we discover we have been had by a watermelon.

Apparently the watermelon I bought last week had a crack in it and I never saw it. That is the only thing I can imagine that would take a perfectly good watermelon from yummy to revolting in a few days. All I can say is that at 8pm last night, things seemed fine. We ate dinner next to this thing and cleaned up and it didn't seem suspicious. By midnight there was smell wafting around but the source unknown. By 8:30am there was a puddle extending out of the watermelon covering half the table and its contents, soaking the upholstery on one of the kitchen chairs and all over the floor under the table extending under the cabinets along the wall. I know understand why they are WATERmelons.

Even Genevieve didn't rush right in and this kid never met a puddle she didn't like. Instead she looked, crinkled her nose and said, "hucky-o!" Oh yes, yucky is right. We spent an hour with towels, sponges, mops and soap getting the liquid off of the surfaces and all soaked items disposed of. Before breakfast we managed to do this to the kitchen.

unloading the entire cabinet's contents into the room so we could move it and mop underneath. There seem to be only two real casualties besides the melon, both of them books. I got all organized last night and put the library books on the kitchen table so I wouldn't forget them. Sadly they were in the wet zone and are drying in the backyard. I may owe the library for those titles. Oops. So much for organization and planning ahead. Its nearly noon and with the laundry running the kitchen is back to usable and the kid has been hauled off to the pool with the cousins while I get some alone time at home. Whoever says 4th of July weekend and watermelon go together perfectly wasn't in my kitchen this morning. Looks like I'll need a replacement before tomorrow.

Push!

2010-07-02T18:20:00.000-07:00

Pushing is a very big deal around here lately. It all started about a month ago at a local park. We were minding our own business, playing in the fountains when she spied a mom and her two kids in a double stroller. For some reason she got it in her head that she needed to push that stroller right now! Lucky for us, the mom was very obliging and let her push the stroller in circles for a really long time... with her two kids inside.

Since then her need to push has only increased until we ended up this month with an all out push feast. Nothing was safe from her need to push. Not the kiddie yard furniture, be it inside or out.

There is our stroller. It is getting more and more difficult to convince her to sit and take in the sights. Most days we end up like this for a while.

At some point she gets tired and is willing to accept a ride without issue, that is when the walk goes a lot faster. If I want to keep her happy we have to keep moving at a really brisk pace and make sure to leave any play structure for the end. If she see's one, there is a fit to be thrown if those slides have to be postponed for a few minutes. Other days we skip the play structure all together in favor of pushing the stroller around on the grass. Whatever makes her happy, works for me.

I did learn something about my stroller that I hadn't previously known. Apparently the basket, or her handle, is hinged. The first time she used the basket as a handle it collapsed and I was sure I broke the whole thing. I was only too happy to discover a hinge and reassemble it without much effort. Whew!

This past week I needed a new watch battery. Making a quick stop at the local mall, I ducked into Sears to get the job done. On our way to the watch repair, we had to pass the luggage section. It hadn't occurred to me that luggage would be a big draw, but luckily we had some extra time and were able to give it the visit it deserved. No luggage was harmed in the making of this happy child.

Running errands has taken on a whole new flair. Every time she spies a shopping cart her mind automatically interprets "time to push", while I have plans to get in and out of the store as fast as possible. As a compromise, I try to keep visits to weekday mornings so that the crowds are thin and we have time to go a bit slower. She likes to help. Here she is "helping" at Costco.

I am always amused that she doesn't look up. She puts her little head down and pushes for all she is worth. She takes her job very seriously.

Generally the best way to get her back in the cart is snacks. Lately, and especially anyplace we buy food this means a piece of ripe fruit. She will happily trade pushing duties for the spoils of a ripe nectarine or peach. Here she is enjoying her reward on the ride home. I have taken to hiding the fruit in the car or she will pick each one up, take a bite and put it back. I discovered this the hard way after noticing that most of our fruit had a chunk missing. Coincidentally it was the ones she could reach from the car seat. Hmmmmm....

Sheep!!!

2010-06-28T11:57:00.000-07:00

When you have kids you find yourself saying things like. "Hey, it's saturday. Want to go to the petting zoo?" Then you get all excited about going. You plan the time and what to bring and if you need a lunch, and talk about all the fun things you will see when you get there. Somewhere in the middle of that conversation you catch a fragment of what you are saying and it hits you. Whoa. Life has really changed. Then you go back to excited about seeing sheep, and chickens, goats and cows on the farm later that day. And off you go, sippy cup in tow.

It started off with chickens and turkeys. She was delighted to stare at them through the wire.

We decided to start with her favorites. I'm not sure why she is so fascinated by poultry but they are by far her favorite.

especially this guy

Nearby there were a few other animals. After a good time staring at chickens we moved on to the next animal. It was viscous, terrible, frightening, huge. A killer. Just look at it!

Are you terrified. No. Me either. I thought she would get excited about the giant furry dog or some such thing. Instead she walked up to take a look and it bleated. Just like that, the sheep went from timid herbivore to viscous monster. She burst into tears and ran into her dads arms.

We honestly had no idea she would react that way. She has been so excited about her picture books with farm animals. We have been practicing animal sounds and she proudly identifies them, smiles and wants to see them over and over. It seemed like such a great idea, viewing herbivores through a fence. The ways she chases the cat and dog, I assumed it would be a hit. I was wrong. Herbivores are terrifying. We moved on. Hoping that a quieter animal might be better. We tried here.

One little piggy was sleeping, one little piggy was hanging around having a mellow afternoon. It seemed okay until the pig began a slow wander in our direction. Clearly an attack maneuver, or possibly a chance to get his ears scratched, we retreated to safety. We walked for a bit, talking about all the friendly animals, looking at corn and deciding what to do next. When we came to the next series of pens we decided to try a different tactic.

Meet Clover.

Hi Clover. Clover was waiting for her turn to be brushed. Since she had some time to kill she headed for the fence to see if anyone was willing to rub her head. Turns out many of the nearby kids helped her out. To prove that she wasn't dangerous us grown ups headed out and gave her a pat behind the ears. When we came out of our encounter with Clover unscathed, Genevieve started to relax and give the herbivores a chance. She decided to look, from a distance.

We tried again with the next animal. Same tactics. We sent a parent in first to check the danger level. We found a group of juvenile goats and approached slowly. Other kids were on hand to demonstrate the goat's happiness at being rubbed. She got down to look. A big step.

She trusted it enough to turn her back on it.

Then, it happened. She touched it. The quiet brown one. Not that noisy white one, that one was dangerous. The quiet brown one was safe and possibly friendly enough to touch. So she did.

And she was happy. For good measure we explored one last animal. They were fantastic. Her kind of critter. Small, soft, still and quiet. Bunny.

At the end of the day we found a way to make farm animals interesting and un-scary. A triumph all around.

It was time to stop for lunch and a quick stroll through the gardens.

Then we found the perfect playground, just for her. Stairs.

The old farmhouse is now a place for local weddings and the occasional tour. To her it is a delight of stairs. For us, a good spot to rest on a park bench and wish we had a cup of sweet tea.

In the end, tired eyes signaled the end of our trip to the farm and time to head home. She slept the whole way. I think we will try the farm again this summer. Next time we will make sure the scary sheep aren't there and the friendly ones are. Just in case.

We're Pumped!

2010-06-26T14:13:00.000-07:00

Today was her first official toddler birthday party. Okay, so some milestones are bigger than others, but the birthday party is a feature of childhood that is such a staple that the first one seemed noteworthy.

This particular party was at our local Pump It Up. If you don't have this chain near you, it is a room full of bouncy houses where you run around in socks and bounce yourself silly for an hour and a half or until exhaustion sets in, whichever comes first.

Miss G has never been known for her bold demeanor so she took her time warming up to the place. Basically this means I haul her into the nearest bouncer and we sit and watch. Once the warm up phase is finished she moved on to her idea of how to maximizer her time in a room full of bouncing opportunities.

Yup, she headed straight for the one little car and spent a considerable amount of time pushing it around the room. Apparently it wouldn't start, and she was sure if she gave it a push she could jump start the thing. Kids. Oddly she wouldn't get in it, she preferred to poked at it from the safety of the door window and then went back to pushing.

I suspect that in a few years she will be all over this place and I will have to drag her out by her ears kicking and screaming, but today was not that day. While doing her best to push start that car she discovered another good place. Not quite the bouncers but a good middle ground. She opted to try to climb a rock. Or rock wall.

The best part of the rock wall is that it came with two padded mats. There are many things you can do with the mats. You can jump off of the ledge, over and over.

And just to make the other parents wonder what is wrong, she decided the best way to utilize the mats is like this. Oh so soft!

Near the end, I did manage to cart her to the top of a slide and get her down with me. Twice. She was just coming around to the slide when our time was up and the birthday cake was calling.

I have to say, my favorite part of the party was watching the parents interact with the kids. With a group of little ones, it is impossible to get out of there without climbing all over the place yourself. You just can't help getting into the fun and playing like the big kids we all are and don't get to explore often enough anymore. The next alternate activity is taking photos of your kids as they come down the slides with huge grins on their faces. Go moms and dads! Happy Birthday Maddie!!

Potty, Potty, Party!

2010-06-17T19:12:00.000-07:00

In the past few weeks I have noticed that Genevieve has renewed her interest in using the potty. We started introducing it when she was around a month old. I had heard about this crazy idea called Elimination Communication, Natural Infant Hygiene or any of the terms used to describe the practice when I was pregnant. I was discussing cloth diapers with another mom and she told me there were even some crazy people that didn't use diapers. Out of curiosity, wondering how that was possible without living in a puddle of baby goo, I began googling. Yes, I Googled. I even bought called The Diaper Free Baby by Christine Gross-Loh. We decided that it didn't seem all that complicated and at best we would be done with diapers a bit earlier than the standard, 30-ish months, and at worst nothing would happen and we end up just like the majority of American parents. There didn't seem to be much of a down side to giving it a try.

We headed out to IKEA and found these potties that were cheap enough to buy in bulk and not feel bad about not getting enough value for our dollars. We currently have four of them for the price of one Baby Bjorn seat.

We started the process as hopeful skeptics. Mostly it was me that started as Mike was sure it would never work and I was on some new mommy hormonal high. He humored me. Like some sort of magic, whenever we put her tiny baby self in a supported squat position, with her back to our stomachs, and made a pssssssss-t noise, she produced the goods. After a week he had to get in on the action and has enjoyed it more than I an anticipated. We didn't do anything all that interesting, we simply would give it a try twenty minutes after a feeding, after waking up and as we got to know her schedule a bit better, any other time we noticed her needing a consistent diaper change. It was rolled into what would otherwise be a diaper change and it added all of sixty seconds to the process so it really wasn't too taxing on our daily schedule. Plus it was kind of fun to see if it would work, and it always did.

(4 months old)

By four months old we had it down pretty well and for the next five months I had only the rarest of messy diapers. I knew her schedule, gave her potty-tunities, and she was a faithful pooper on the potty. Who-Hoo! No one was more excited than my husband as he much preferred her to use the potty than scrape poop off her behind. We all have our motivation.

(7 months)

As she got more mobile, she was less interested in stopping her roaming to use the potty and some days she was less reliable, but I always kept the before sleep, after waking potty times jut to keep some familiarity. Around this time we introduced books at potty time and that seemed to help her interest quite a bit. From around nine months old, the book reading became the longest part of diaper changes and we could easily spend five to ten minutes a time going through her favorite book.

(10 months)

Around a year, she flat refused to use it. Up to this point she had been waking up from naps and sometimes after a full night of sleep dry and could easily only need a few changes a day, if that, so I knew that she was capable of understanding how the potty worked and using it reliably. She just decided that she was in control of her body and not us and she was exercising her right of refusal. So we left it alone. We didn't push it or make a big deal out of it or say much of anything. We left the potty on the floor and every few days we would offer her a chance to see where she stood on her independence streak. Over time we ended up with only a bedtime sitting and some books, potty optional. This lasted almost six months. Then suddenly she began asking to use it again.

Last month she started getting interested again, and as she started asking more and more during the day I decided that once the weather got warm enough I would let her run without her diaper and see if she would consistently use the potty on her own. In the last two weeks she has become more resistant to her diaper and hates being changed and in any way put into her diaper. The weather hit 70 degrees more consistently so we decided that it was time to give diaper free a literal try.

(18 months, in the trunk of the car)

She has thoroughly been enjoying her diaper free time. I have been putting her in a long tee-shirt or dress with no bottoms and letting her roam around the house. The first day I had to watch her pretty closely. She seemed to understand that she wasn't wearing a diaper and when she had to go she would freeze and look confused. It was clear she didn't know what to do as this option hadn't existed before. All I had to do was ask her if she needed to go and direct her toward one of the available pottys placed around the house. There were a few times when I wasn't right there and ended up with a small puddle on the floor. I didn't make a big deal out of it, even when she snuck off and pooped. The next day was even better and she made it faithfully to the potty's with only a few drops here and there on the carpet, save the one time she peed in the dog dish and spilled it trying to carry it to the toilet and flush it away. Oops. I hadn't predicted that option. It kind of looks like a potty, right?

Fast forward a week and it has been rather successful. She seems happy to use any one of the potties places around the house and I am happy to only have the overnight and nap time diaper to deal with. Most of the time she wakes up dry but I hate to get too excited too soon. It's only been a week.
During the day, she is still to little to get out of her clothes so we will have to get creative with clothing for a while, but at home we have a lot of flexibility and the weather will be warm for many more months before we have to cross that hurdle. I think I will wait a bit longer before I skip the diaper when we are out and about, at least until I am sure she won't mistake training pants for a diaper and when I am a little more confident in our abilities to coordinate a bathroom trip. I'll let you know how that works when we know how it is going to work.

Anyone out there had success at this with a kid around 18 months?

{This Moment}

2010-06-11T17:11:00.000-07:00

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama

{This Moment}

2010-06-04T10:29:00.000-07:00

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama

Cherry Picking

2010-05-29T12:59:00.000-07:00

How do you start a holiday weekend in California? You go cherry picking of course. We loaded up the car and drove about an hour yesterday for the opportunity to harvest someone else's cherry orchard and then pay $2.00 a pound for any fruit we picked. The Pease Ranch turned out to be a lovely afternoon of a picnic lunches and all you can eat buy cherries.
After having sandwiches in their picnic area we headed out to score some buckets. After a week of cold and rainy it was a perfect almost 70 degrees with a slight breeze, for a moment almost cold when the clouds threatened our cherry filled afternoon, but perfect again as we headed into the orchard.

She insisted she carry a bucket, so we made sure to get at least one small one. The bucket was lots of fun, right up until she saw these, and then she needed someone else to carry her bucket. She had business to take care of.

The orchard has multiple varieties of cherries that ripen at different times. We were told to pick the trees with the orange paint at the base, as they were the ripest variety right now. We weren't quite clear as to what variety they were, but they easily passed the sample test and we began filling our buckets. I was delighted to see that they keep their trees fairly short and leave low hanging branches to even the tiniest of harvesters have access to lots of cherries. The hard part was getting her to pick ripe ones and not just every cherry she could find. Mike got really into it. He spent most of the afternoon here.

Or here, with help of course. Every good job needs a supervisor to make sure he gets all the good ones.

We split our duties. He was having a great time finding just the perfect cherry hidden in the branches and scouting out the next harvestable tree. It was wonderful to get out and do something as a family. The downside to babies is that one parent is always watching and holding while the other one does something. This time, we both got to participate. I had forgotten how nice it was to have a relaxing afternoon activity without having to watch every single moment for "what the baby doing?" and "is she moments from death or wandering away?". There were all of four families in the orchard and nowhere in particular to go or get lost. We wandered along knowing she was trailing along behind us or playing under the next tree. It was a needed afternoons relaxation with natures snacks.
I don't know how long we stood by the trees with the ladder, but it was one of the highlights for her. As a new climber, a ladder was a heavenly gift. Even though the signs at the entrance clearly stated, NO CHILDREN ON LADDERS, we assumed they were mistaken about the first few rungs.

It had to be conquered. She felt triumphant. Sometimes you have to break a few rules in the name of fun. Plus, she was closely supervised in case poor footing became a problem.

The harvest was coming along perfectly. Turns out my main job was to keep the kiddo from falling off the ladder and intermittently keep her from throwing all the picked cherries out of the bucket. We had a system and each of us had a job. We were, the lead harvester, the supervisor, and the safety officer/cherry retainer/part-time harvester/photographer.
Around half a bucket into our afternoon, she discovered that cherries are edible. She sampled a few early on that she picked herself but they weren't ripe and didn't taste very good. This time I convinced her to eat one from the bucket or ripe ones. She wasn't sure I knew what I was talking about at first, but she was quickly converted and spent the last half of our bucket filling time eating herself silly.

At one point she decided that working around the pits was too complicated, so she opted to take one bite from each and throw the rest back in the bucket. Hmmmm, not what I had in mind, so free bucket access had to be restricted. Of course she knew better and went straight to the source for more fruit.

She was so engrossed in eating her new favorite food that we had to slow down our pace as walking and eating are a complicated combination.

In the end we loaded our harvest up and headed back to the weigh station. Turns out we got 14.5 lbs of cherries into our buckets, not to mention the volume we ate as "samples" to make sure that each tree was a good one before we starting picking. I don't think we were the first family to sample our way through the trees. The fruit was fantastic and they told us when we started that they don't spray their trees so the fruit didn't need to be washed before eating. When we asked how to tell the good and ripe ones, they told us to eat a few and then we would know what we liked. They totally knew what they were in for by handing us buckets and sending a family of primates into trees filled with ripe fruit. It's instinct, we can't be held responsible for instinct around ripe fruit.
We hauled our loot back to the car, $29.00 lighter with full tummies and a sticky kid who looked at her hands and noticing the way her fingers stuck together pronounced them "hucky-o". There was one last stop to be made. An unadvertised gem. Chickens. She has been working her book of pictures, pointing to all the farm animals for weeks now. Spotting those chickens you would think it was Christmas. Her eyes lit up and she went straight for the coop.

She can't say chicken just yet, but she signed chicken about a million times with a huge grin of satisfaction at identifying the birds. Pleased with herself is an understatement. We closed the place down and I couldn't have been happier with my friday.

{This Moment}

2010-05-21T23:02:00.000-07:00

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama

Random thoughts

2010-05-15T11:00:00.000-07:00

Over the years we have become a big Pixar family. We own nearly every movie the company has ever made and even before we had kids we were proud cartoon people. Just to give you a window into my nutty brain, there is a local guy running for State Assembly in the upcoming elections. His signs are all over the area and every time I pass one it makes me giggle.

Because every time I see a sign for this guy,

image from http://bobwieckowski.com/

I can't help but think of this guy,

image from http://disney-clipart.com copyright The Walt Disney Company

All I hear is that Boo saying in that adorable voice, "Mike Wazowski!, Mike Wazowski!"

I can't help myself. I giggle every time. Sorry Bob, I'm sure you are a great candidate and will do wonderful things for the state if given the chance, but I'm still going to giggle.

{This Moment}

2010-05-14T12:28:00.000-07:00

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama

{This Moment}

2010-05-07T22:59:00.001-07:00

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama

Ordinary day

2010-05-02T00:16:00.000-07:00

Supervising a trip to Costco is a real job, and a very important one. I don't know how I survived so many years without one in my cart.

She is so dedicated to her craft she stays with us all the way to the car and supervises the unpacking. Will work for Goldfish, and the opportunity to pick all stickers off any fruit when applicable!

{This Moment}

2010-05-01T01:02:00.000-07:00

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama

Sill Life

2010-04-27T12:39:00.000-07:00

Somehow, completely by accident, it has become all the rage to hang out in the windowsill. I'm fairly sure I put her up to the window one day to wave goodbye to Daddy as he was leaving for work. It stuck, and now it has become part of the morning routine.

Something about the morning sun and all the goings on, or lack thereof, that she just loves about this spot. We have rearranged all the knick knacks that used to inhabit the table under the window and pushed all the plants to the side to make room for one toddler and her sippy cup.

It has become central. Just after breakfast, for about half an hour, we sit and watch the morning. It's an odd thing, that honestly I never in a million years would have thought to do with my mornings. Just sit and watch. All the, please-don't-throw-yourself-over-the-side, typical mommy worries aside, I really do like this practice. It is almost a meditation. No distractions, just the morning sun on the roses and a patient pause while we wait for the local dogs and their owners to go for their walk past our window.

She tells me all about her thoughts, and what she wants to do that day. It all comes out as, do-de-do-do-dooooooo! and then I repeat and she makes up new sounds. We talk. She sips her straw, I nurse my coffee, and we watch. If my attention wanders, she makes silly faces and hoots to bring be back to our morning moment. Hello! Pay attention! This is important!

I do my best to finger comb her hair to one side. She flips her head until it falls across her nose again. I ask he if she want's a hair clip today, she looks at me like I just asked her to get a job. Um. No. I try anyway, and she pulls it out and hands it back to me like she found a bug. Somewhere in her head I can hear her say, "Mom, a clip will ruin my signature look! You just don't understand style anymore."

She pouts for a moment about the clip comment, and then we sit some more. And talk. She points to the birds and shows off her baby sign for bird that no one but me would ever recognize. Sometimes she gets fancy and points to the cat using the sign for him too. It's just as cryptic, but I know what she means. Simple conversation, but full of meaning and heart melting moments. It's just another level of our own private language, in our own little world each day. Someday she will be too big for this sill, and showing me her world each morning with rapt enthusiasm.

Today she is still my baby, sitting in a window having a great time. Teaching me to sit and enjoy simple, quiet moments where you find them. Later, she will drop a mine field of toys across the floor to kick and trip over. She'll play in the toilet, eat a bug and cry when she falls. The day will get busy with errands, meals, phone calls and to-do lists. But right now, right here, in this moment, I am happy. Happy to slow down and see the world through her eyes. Full of simple wonder, bright colors and warm sunbeams. While windowsills still make the best chairs and sippy cups are a fashion staple.

My tiny girl. Who spends half the day as my student, learning the ins' and outs' of daily life. And the other half she spends as my teacher, patiently molding me into a better person. Ironing out all the oddities and bad habits that grown ups collect but really shouldn't have. Slow down, smile, enjoy yourself, take a nap, sing, and give lots of hugs, be yourself and forgive when life gives you a boo boo. I love you tiny girl.

-Mommy

{This Moment}

2010-04-23T11:09:00.000-07:00

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama

Some Junk In The Trunk

2010-04-22T12:51:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking a lot lately about who I want to be. When I was a kid, the answer to that question was always a job title. A title was deemed good or bad depending on how much education was required to attain that job. For the next few decades I defined my sense of self by how well I was doing at attaining a "good" job and therefore happiness. As I got older items on the list seemed to keep adding themselves. At seven I was busy being a good student and a good daughter and a good girl. As I got older, I was a good employee, good wife, good graduate student, good friend, good mother. I could probably extend the list straight into my grave and never run out of items to berate myself each day for poor performance.

This week I am realizing how much effort I have been putting into the version of who I am that runs like a resume. I've spent a lot of time building my "good" list and very little time thinking about how much I was really enjoying my life. How much my life accurately reflects me, the real me, not the arbitrary me that others want me to be. I spent even less time cultivating a sense of who the real me person was and is. Probably because in my family that part never really seemed as important as your relative standing compared to others. We were good middle class Americans and there was a list you worked your way through and at the end you were supposed to be happy. I'm not actually sure who decided we should all follow the list, but they did, and we all became very obedient list followers.

You know, the list. The right friends, the right education, the right job, the right spouse, the right home in the right city, the right pets, the right vacations, the right number of kids, the right religion and its associated attendance rules, the perfect holiday card complete with witty anecdote. Almost every family has their own version of the list. No two are actually alike, but it it always important to know where you are on the list relative to everyone else, otherwise you don't know how you are doing and if you are happy. I was doing a really good job on my list. I checked my progress regularly. Everyone said I was doing a great job with the list, and that I was happy. Problem was, it was getting harder and harder to convince myself that this was what I wanted. Why wasn't it working? Other people seemed so happy following the list. Maybe they just seemed happy and were doing a great acting job, you know, like I was, that following the list was making them happy.

When I was around 22 and fresh out of college, I had my first feelings of doubt about the list. It just wasn't working for me and I was unsure of how to walk away from it and choose something authentic, so I sought the advice of a family member. He sat me down, took my hand and honestly told me that my hopes were too high. No one is happy, we just follow the list and are considered good and respectable people. Quit trying for more, there really isn't more. Those aren't his actual words, more the meaning behind the words. What he actually said was, "Most people live lives of quiet desperation". I distinctly remember a sinking feeling followed by such sadness. Although the conversation continued for a while, I walked away truly wondering if it was possible to live a life of joy or if that was just some notion portrayed on TV and in novels but unattainable in real life.

Baby steps add up over time. It has taken me a long time to be ready to make changes in my life. To walk away from the list, or at least the parts that aren't working for me. I'm not talking about shave your head and run off to live in the wilderness type changes. Little things. Today I threw things out. Boxes of the old me. I looked around my house and it occurred to me that a lot of the things I have been hanging onto represent a me that I don't want to be anymore. It was time to let go.

This was the person I have been fighting to become, or re-become. For years I have looked at the photos from this trip and told myself, "I will be her again!" It's a really pretty picture, but there is an illusion behind the smile that I never saw until today. I have been hanging onto this persons clothes and jewelry. I have the artwork from her apartment and the books from her shelves. I have her photographs and her nail polish and all kinds of little personal items that she had in her life. I thought that by keeping these things I could will myself to look like her again- to be her. I just knew that if I could look like her again I would be happy, I mean, this girl smiles in photographs from a tropical island and looks cute in a bathing suit. This must be happiness. Right?

Today it occurred to me that the girl in this picture is killing herself to live the list. She had all the parent friendly friends but really wants a few that aren't. She got good grades in school, but missed out on a lot of things that were fun because she didn't want to be distracted from her "plan". She graduated from college in a major she didn't really like because it was respectable and picking something else would have created arguments about good jobs, and wasting time, and frivolity and she might have lost her funding. She had a "good" job that she hated with a passion. Being there gave her anxiety, heart palpitations and nightmares but she was afraid of being a quitter and not giving it a chance. This girl wants so badly to please people and be liked that she has no idea who she was or what she really wanted. She was at war with her body. Always on a diet, she thinks she is fat and when this photo is taken, she covers her stomach to hide herself from the camera. She will continue her war with her body and with the list for years to come. She will make some really good decisions in the next few years and some not so good ones.

Today I decided that I really didn't want to be her anymore. I had assumed that because that version of me was thinner, that I was also happier and healthier. I was wrong. I don't ever want to feel that anxiety and stress over living a life defined by someone else's wants, needs or expectations. I don't want to be at war with my reflection, afraid of food and of getting fat. I am done hiding from my real wants and needs for fear that they would be different that those required to complete "the list", all the while smiling and telling everyone how okay I am. How happy I am following the list. I want to move forward and not backward. That photo is no longer my goal. I am defining a new goal and a new person every day, one step at a time. Letting go and adding new until I find out where I am going.

Today I gathered up all of her stuff and loaded them into the trunk of the car. I smiled and waved goodbye as it was driven off to the donation center and then marched the rest to my trash can in the yard. I am amazed at how free I feel with all that junk out of my life. All the cluttered ideas of who I am and who I want to be. Now there is space I didn't even know I needed. I am becoming, one step at a time.

The Zen of Park Time

2010-04-20T12:46:00.000-07:00

There is nothing nicer than a park to yourself in the afternoon. I hunt them like my cat hunts gophers, and get way too excited, as only a mommy can, when I find a park that isn't swarming with kids and parents. I pounce.

But before I get there, there is a ritual that must be performed. We have to choose our park. I get in the car I use the force to guide me toward the right park. Today we felt like the California themed park. Once I know my destination I can happily get to the nearest Starbucks for my latte. The latte is essential to a successful Zen Park experience. I think it would fail without my warm cup of afternoon, decaf happiness.
In my past life as a woman without child I would often enjoy an afternoon with my coffee or a book or a friend, then later my husband, or whatever seemed like a lovely relaxing way to spend my afternoon hours before I had to get home and make dinner. Fast forward a few years and the park has become my unwind activity of choice.

I love it here today because it is quiet without hoards of other families. I can wander in with my kiddo and my coffee and breathe the fresh air and crunch around on the tan bark with my thoughts. At the park my level of active supervision drops. She can't break anything, or steal toys from other kids that aren't around. We can't hold up the line at the slide because she just can't commit or insists on climbing up the slide from the bottom. No big kids run her over on the stairs, push her by accident and knock her down or shake the platform and make her cry. The swings are never full and therefore no one will kick her in the head because she insists on walking too close to swinging feet. Empty parks are heaven for tired moms.
We hang out on the swings. We try out all of them until we find the best one for my little Goldilocks.

We ride the pony's, because every girl needs a pony.

Today was extra great because Daddy came with us so he did all the heavy lifting and I got to wander around with my coffee and take pictures of todays installment of Zen Park Day.
I don't know why I have such an affinity for cloth diaper butts. Something about the oversized waddle and that they just don't really fit into pants no matter how hard you try. Baby plumbers crack is just too cute.

I sip and wander along. My job is to encourage exploration while simultaneously keeping her from eating garbage. It's a good job. I keep her from falling off the stairs as she pokes all the leftover bark through the holes for five minutes. Did I mention I love quiet parks?

Platform supervision really means I watch from the ground as she runs herself silly making sure she doesn't throw herself from the various openings. And take photos. And sip coffee.

No Zen day is complete without a short lesson in bell ringing. Ding Ding.

Tiny feet, barely big enough to fit over the side.

For the final dismount the perfect slide must be selected. Often there is more than one contender for slide perfection. She has to stop at the top of each possibility and assess it thoroughly... are you the right one?

No. No. No. Keep moving until you find the largest slide in the place. The one that no parent can reach from the ground to lend that all important helping hand. Daddy to the rescue, he climbed up that thing to rescue his princess from her tower. Go Daddy!

The coffee is done. Slides slid, bark scattered, pony's ridden, swings explored, photos taken and bells rung. Time to head to the car. The sun is setting and tummies are rumbling. She got a good run in, Daddy got to play with his girl in the park and I got a good hour coffee break in the park. A beautiful spring day spent listening to happy shrieks form kids and birds amidst the smell of tan bark and coffee. Time to go home. As long as we can walk the park balance beam on our way out. For you, anything.

This has been my moment of Zen.

Our Story

2010-04-10T23:46:00.000-07:00

Today is our sixth wedding anniversary. In celebration of the occasion I thought I would tell our story.

We met by chance. A year after I graduated college I decided I wanted to go to Italy for a vacation. I had saved some money and decided that two weeks in Europe would be a great place to spend it. I didn't want to go alone but could not find a friend with both the time and the money to go with me. As fate would have it, parents talk about their kids at work. Ours were no exception. One afternoon, after lamenting my lack of trip companion, I was told that a "lady at work has a son planning a similar trip with some friends. You should go with them". Uh huh, sure. Just invite myself along on some random strangers trip, because that isn't creepy or anything. No thanks.

It wasn't too long before desperation took away all form of shame and after triple checking that the son of a parents co-worker was aware of my existence on the planet and my impending phone call, I took a chance. I got an answering machine. Remember answering machines? My message went something like this, "Hi, you don't know me, but I got your number from my dad who works with your mom and I hear you are planning a trip to Italy this summer. I'd love to talk to you about possibly coming with you, give me a call...." I hung up knowing I might get accused of stalking but certainly not a return phone call and let it go as a bad idea to begin with. By some miracle, he called me back. We talked every night after that, on the phone, for three years until we got married.

Officially we met a week later, under the premise of he-seems-nice-but-I-need-to-know-he-isn't-crazy-or-too-boring-to-travel-with meeting. All I knew was he was an asian, my age and a programmer and enough random stories by phone to be a generally nice guy. I had no real expectations beyond a travel buddy. About thirty seconds after he got to my door, I realized he was adorable and I was in trouble. Our first official date started a week later on a ski trip where we built this really cool snow fort. It was big enough for two people and actually had a roof.

Needless to say a trip to Europe with your future husband and a few other fun people was a delightful bonus. Fast forward three years and we were back in the same cabin, this time without the snow, getting engaged.

I was totally unprepared to plan a wedding and all that goes with it. I was thrilled when we found The River Mill, just outside my home town to host our wedding. They did everything for us and all I needed to bring was a photographer and my dress, some guests and a groom. They organized everything else. The photographer, groom and guests were easy, the dress not so much. I had no idea how long it would take to order a dress, so when I went shopping in January for my April wedding most shops had an attack when I told them our timeline. What did I know, I thought four months would be plenty. Turns out a minimum of nine months is more normal. Oh well, I had four months, work with me people. They did, and I ordered a dress I loved and they promised it would be delivered in time. Fantastic. Nothing to worry about, right. Wrong.

Four months later I have no dress. I start getting phone call frantic two weeks out. Every time I call, I hear the same thing. Don't worry, no dress yet, but it's coming. It will be here, we're sure of it. They've talked to the company, the shipping poeple, the factory, you name it, don't worry. I worry anyway. The calling continues until wednesday (my wedding is Saturday morning at 10:00am), when I have the following conversation with my bridal salon.

"So your dress is still in transit..." At this point my hearing gets a little spacey as I begin hyperventilating and breaking into hives. The following words I do remember next in what order I don't exactly remember, "China, carts and horses, not going to make it". Really it was the phrase "Not going to make it" that rang loud and clear. Seriously... my wedding is in a little over 36 hours and I need a new dress!! This isn't possible. Oh. My. God. The next morning I was flying through the bridal salon in a crazed panic trying on every floor model they had in hopes of finding something that would work. Anything I could see myself in all my photos that we were paying that photographer a lot of money to take. Anything I could feel good about and not look without saying, "damn I hate that dress. You should have seen my original one. You know it didn't get here..." A frantic afternoon, and a few cocktails at lunch, later there was one or two dresses designated as tolerable but still...this was my nightmare and I was somewhere between tears and a breakdown. We had one last option. They called the wherehouse in who knows where USA and had them ship any dress they had in stock, in my size, made by the same designer. Overnighted. Come back tomorrow morning at 10:00am, that is when the UPS man will deliver our final options.

There I am, 10:00am on Friday morning, sitting in the bridal salon so far past freak out I have gone straight to laughter and fuck it. Whatever, I am still getting married tomorrow, this is going to be fine. I'm sure of it. Just fine. Say it with me, just fine. In 24 hours to the minute, TO THE MINUTE PEOPLE, my ceremony is going to start and I am sitting waiting for an angel in a brown van to deliver what I hope is the dress of my dreams. No pressure UPS man, I believe in you!! Don't even get me started on the whole, how do I get this dress altered, pressed and to my destination when I am supposed to be at my rehearsal at 2:00pm and it is a good two hour drive from where I am sitting now. We're fine, nobody panic!

I still remember the moment I saw that van pull up and the agonizing minutes waiting for him go get that box and haul it into the store. I'm sure I was twitching. It was the smallest box ever. Two dresses. Just two, that's it. Deep breath everyone and lets open the mystery box.

The first dress is awful. Like, get this hideous thing off me and hand me a tissue awful. One more. Fingers crossed. It is not a style I have tried on before, but it has potential so on it goes. By some miracle we zip up the gown and it fits perfectly. So much so that the ladies all say, "Wow, that never happens! You wouldn't even need alterations, just a bustle and some pressing. What do you think?"

I get to the mirror and I can't believe it. I LOVE this dress. I even love it more than my original dress. This is my dress. It was made for me and if I had seen it four months ago I would have ordered this one instead. That is how much I loved that dress. And it fit. Perfectly. Miracles do happen. They didn't even have this style at the original trunk show I visited and yet here it is. In my crazy, overnight, emergency, box of wedding gowns courtesy of my angel in brown shorts. Bless you UPS man. Pack it up people, we'll take it.

Within an hour I am at the emergency seamstress getting a bustle and some minor tweaking to the cap sleeves. Before the clock strikes noon we are out the door. They will finish it all up and personally deliver the dress to my parents home that night! We make it on time to my rehearsal and as I am leaving to go to dinner at 6:00pm, my dress, all pressed and lovely is waiting in the driveway. After all that, I can go to dinner knowing my dress is hanging in my room waiting for the next morning. What a difference eight hours makes. Whew!

The next morning is a lovely day. After off and on rain all week the sun comes out and we have a morning in the low 70's. I'm sure we would have heard angels singing if only the peacocks on the property weren't quite so loud. We arranged to have a few minutes alone before the ceremony, before the cameras and audience to have a first glimpse of each other all dressed and ready. I'm glad we did as I don't think I would have seen his face and reaction to that hard won dress otherwise. Here we are:

The groom

The bride

The happy couple

The fun artsy shot

One of my favorites, and a last minute idea, just before we went into our reception

The reception

Thank you to Prevost Photography for the beautiful memories and an amazing custom album. We had an engagement series done in Yosemite Valley just before Christmas 2003. If you go to the website under "before" you will see us in the photo gallery. I loved those shots and I guess our photographer did too. Very cool.

Another ordinary day

2010-04-10T00:03:00.000-07:00

Today we did all sorts of average things. We ate meals, threw most of it to the dog, who incidentally has given up dog food in favor of kid droppings. I'm not helping as I have taken to scraping the table and plates onto the floor in favor of dumping perfectly good food in the trash because she refuses to eat.

We went to the park, and took a nap.

We played around the house. Oh how I wish this thing really worked as she takes her job very seriously. My floor could use a once over and she just can't stop herself. It even sings a variety of tunes, one sounds suspiciously like the chicken dance and always makes me giggle and shimmy just a bit when I hear it. The pile in the bottom corner is my laundry pile I was supposed to be folding, but I was taking pictures instead. It's not like there is really ever going to be a laundry shortage in this house so I decided that enjoying the moment was a much better use of my time.

Then there were stickers. You can't go wrong with stickers because the best thing about them is that they got everywhere and you just can't help it. They are kind of like a secondary Easter egg hunt, except with little bits stuck to your socks. You just never know when or where they will turn up next. Officially they started on her shirt and migrated around from there. She didn't seem to understand how this particular sticker ended up here and it took her around twenty minutes before she decided it had to go. I loved each and every one of those minutes.

I love ordinary days.

Easter 2010

2010-04-05T23:06:00.000-07:00

A good day, except for all the rain. Or possibly because of the rain. I'll let you be the judge. For our Easter celebrations we headed up to my mom's place and I was in heaven at the idea of not having to clean the house for a holiday celebration. We also decided that kiddo was still to little to get the whole idea of the Easter Bunny, egg hunts and baskets so we skipped the morning formalities this year and headed to Grandma's house like it was just another day.

She looked so cute and girly in her brand new Easter dress. The Easter dress is a long standing tradition in our family, as are curls but as we are still a bit lacking in the hair department, the dress was plenty for a first official Easter experience. No matter how adorable those dresses are, they are not so handy for playing and generally getting your inner child out for a play date so it didn't take long before we needed a wardrobe change.

A break in the rain signaled time to go outside, so off she went. A little drizzle never hurt anyone, but it made me take note that next year she will be the proud owner of a raincoat and boots.

Daddy was on hand to supervise the outdoor adventures, leaving me free to take photos and generally enjoy a relaxing day around a tray of deviled eggs and pastel M&M's. The last thing I saw before going back indoors was a deliriously happy toddler heading out across the wet grass blissfully uncaring about any potential for wet socks.

So what did I do while wet socks were making my child the happiest girl on the block? I was hanging out with my nephews, the cutie twins. They were making the rounds of all the ladies like champs smiling and laughing with everyone they could make eye contact with. It was great for my family as they didn't get much baby time last year with Miss G. They finally got their baby time and loved each and every moment of it.

Bryce, pictured here holding court in the living room, while his brother

Davis worked the ladies in the kitchen. Well done gentlemen, well done. With all the cuteness to be had in the house I stopped looking out the windows to see what my own child was doing in the great outdoors. My husband was supervising all outdoor activities so clearly she was in good hands. About ten minutes before dinner hit the table I look out the window and see them approaching. Immediately I run for my camera and capture this moment as they hit the front door.

What the heck went on??? Why is she the only one wet and it's not even raining??? How long has she been an icicle? These are the questions I began asking shortly following this photo as I ran a warm bath to both clean up the muck and warm up her frosty limbs. In the background my mom is trying to get everyone to the table and begins to realize that her show has officially been stolen by a 20 pound drowned rat and her father. As I am holding a pile of soggy clothing it occurs to me that earlier today as we left home with a party dress, a set of play clothes and pajamas there was a moment where I wondered if I should bring a spare set of play clothes, you know, just in case. I looked out the window, saw the rain and decided that it was unlikely she would need them. Oops.
As I returned with the pajamas I got the full story of how she turned into a wet, soggy mess. Apparently she had thrown mud all over herself and gotten a few good clumps in her hair. In an effort to keep the house mud free, he turned on the hose and rinsed her head and hands and then let her splash around in the running water for a bit before bringing her in to change into something warm and dry. She was unhappy to be dragged indoors but loved the bath and the opportunity to eat dinner in her pajamas. We did eventually manage to get to dinner with all parties warm and dry. Mom did a great job with dinner and yummy-ness was enjoyed by all. Our girl happily ate her green beans and bread but threw the potatoes and ham to the dog. He loves her for her food dropping abilities and was overjoyed to share her holiday meal.
On a related note, I am proud to say she fell asleep in the car on the way home. Even though she woke up when we pulled into the garage she went right back to sleep once I put her in bed for the fist time in her life. Whoo Hoo!!! It was so nice to have her stay asleep instead of using the ride home as a late, late nap and party until past midnight before falling asleep in a heap of tears and snot. Happy Easter to all, the bunny was good to us parents this year.

Distractions are key

2010-04-03T10:13:00.000-07:00

How do I get a few minutes to myself during the day to do all those silly things like food prep or dishes and other things in the category of self care? Lately it has involved tupperware and water. She can't help herself when it comes to running water. She comes running like a thirsty duck.

I have to admit that the genius was all my husband. At first I wasn't so sure. It looked a little rickety, because it is. Would she fall? Would she stay there happy long enough for me to make a meal? Would she make a mess that wasn't worth all the trouble? Hmmmmm.
Turns out she does make a mess AND she is off my leg long enough to get a meal made. The good news is that my only available prep space is right there in the two feet left of the sink so I am close enough to keep me from twitching the entire time with visions of toppling kids. Lately, she has taken to throwing cups of water over her shoulder just for the fun of hearing the splash so this activity may be over before the post hits the net, but I feel that in order to be considered for mother of the year, this photo must be shared.

Spring is here!

2010-04-01T23:58:00.000-07:00

I love the beach, and she loves playing in the largest sandbox she has ever seen.

Bad Mommy, No Starbucks!

2010-03-28T21:08:00.000-07:00

I am officially 'that mom'. You know, the one who lets their child do horrid things that other moms like to point out so I can save my child from the horrors of puddles, sand, garbage, shared snacks and other dangers of the common playground.
Here is what happened at a recent playdate. My kid likes water, kind of like ducks like water. She can't stay out of it. I have gotten over this fact and have decided to let her have her fun, make a huge mess of herself and then put a dry shirt on her before we go home. Or, worse yet, let it dry in the sun and go on with my day. I truly don't understand why parents bring their kid to a park with a built in water feature and then spend their time trying to keep their kid from playing in it because "they might get wet". Duh. They know that, and the wet is exactly what they are after as they splash and generally enjoy the heck out of themselves. I digress.
On this particular warm spring day my daughter discovered the water fountains. The fountains include a big one, small one and a doggie one. Of course with all the toddlers around, the doggie one really turns into a tiny people fountain as it is easily reachable and spouts, well, water. Genevieve loves this fountain. She will splash and drink as long as I will let her, and generally draws a crowd of tiny people clamoring to play in the best water feature there is. In the middle of splash heaven, I notice a mom near the swings looking disapprovingly in my direction. I love this because clearly her panties are bunching at the joy I am providing a child. Clearly she can't take it anymore because she calls in my direction, "You know that is a dog fountain, right?" How did I respond?
I smiled, giggled a little, and said, "Yup, but she doesn't really seem to care."
"Okay, Well, I thought you might be worried about dog germs." Like the doggie flu? Mad-dog disease? Canine influenza?
"Well, she ate a handful of kibble before she left this morning before spending some time teething on his rawhide, so a little water probably isn't so bad." Totally true by the way, and of course I wanted to watch her squirm. As expected, she had a flash of horror cross her face, gave me the 'poor kid' look and turned her back on my they'll-give-anyone-a-child activity in the fountain.
You think I was taking my toddler base jumping or something. I'll wait until she is at least 4 before we do that as clearly she is too young for packing her own parachute. Thank god she wasn't there when she ate the Cheerio off of the garage floor or the one she dropped on the floor of the library bathroom before I could get to her. Oh well. Someone has to be "that mom," I guess it might as well be me.

Jealous?

2010-03-27T20:57:00.000-07:00

I got to see my nephews for the fist time this month. They are cutie four month old identical twins. Getting to hold them has been a bit interesting because every time I get near them, my sweet, darling daughter pushes her way in between like we are hunting for a replacement child and she knows it.
I got my chance to hold one of the boys while she was distracted climbing the stairs with my husband. We had a few good minutes of initial introductions when I was spied with a tiny usurper on my lap. Immediately she ran over to me and insisted that she get to sit on my lap too. Okay fine, I have two knees. You take the right, your cousin will take the left. He's good at sharing, he came in a matched set. My kid, not so much.
She had plenty of room but insisted that I move his foot out of her lap, now. Then she started fussing and pushing him away from me. I'm doing my best to calm her kind-of-issues when the baby leans into my chest, as babies do. That was it, stop the presses, this had gone too far. That was her milk, he was not to get near her milk supply and to even hint that he might nestle into my chest was totally unacceptable! She really started to cry and swat at him as if he had stolen her favorite toy, and for his protection the baby went back to my sister-in-law and the rest of the room went into hysterics and her crazed, yet critical, boob-defending antics.

Clearly she will be totally into having a sibling and we should work on that right now. Oh boy.

Here mommy, this is for you

2010-03-27T15:59:00.000-07:00

She likes to give me things, all kinds of things. Shoes, sticks, garbage, toys, sand from the sandbox. The really special things she makes sure I close my hand around it so I will know to keep it special for her until she needs it again.

Today she gave me a booger. A nice, big, juicy one. So sweet. Generally I am not one for refusing a gift but when she insisted I take it or let her shove it in my mouth we found a place to dispose of that gem right now! There are few things I won't do for this kid, but eating her snot is pretty high on the list.

Breaking up is hard to do

2010-03-17T23:45:00.000-07:00

My resolution in January was to let go of what I thought I wanted to eat, or should eat and let myself experience my life so that I could make some authentic decisions about what I truly wanted and needed. I wanted to let my body guide my choices and not the latest book, fad, or even long standing traditions on what was "good" for me. Since then, it has slowly been coming to my attention that my relationship with food is a dysfunctional one. Mostly because I love it and it doesn't love me. So sad. I tried to deny it and spend lots of time and energy on food only to have the one sided nature of our relationship become more apparent. I really am bummed. I thought it loved me.

Now I have some tough decisions to make. Changes need to be made, cuts will occur. In the process of allowing myself some space to see myself, and listen to my body before, during and after a meal I have discovered some things about food that have surprised me altogether.

1. I really don't like meat. Weird, I really thought I did. Turns out what I like are the salt rubs, sugar or butter sauces and crunchy deep fried-ness that generally come with meat. Meat itself doesn't taste like much and most of the time is has a really strange consistency. I never pegged myself for a vegetarian type but it looks more and more like I am. Do I get a tee-shirt or something for this?

2. Pasta has no flavor. Ditto for most bread products. Again, all the sauces and toppings make it taste good because it tastes, well, like sauce. The pasta and bread itself is kind of mushy and without flavor. Sigh, I loved it so.

3. Caffeine makes me jittery and a little nuts. I never liked the taste of coffee, it was always more of a conduit to cream and sugar with a nice hit of caffeine. If the stimulants are out, then a glass of cream and sugar is kind of icky. Sigh.

4. Salt. I think I am truly addicted to salt. I find myself craving some crappy food chain only to eat it and discover that aside from the salt it has no flavor and the consistency is horrid. Or it falls into one of the above categories. There are a lot of convenience foods that I thought I loved only to discover I don't. They don't fill me up or worse make me feel like a lethargic slug with gas issues a sore tummy and a dry tongue chugging water. Why did I think that meal was so great. Why did I eat it AGAIN, when the last time I ate it I swore I would not do that to myself any more. Salt. Ack, there goes most every take-out I thought I loved (I hope).

5. Dairy. Without coffee or cereal I really don't have any desire for milk. A straight glass of milk has been weird for a while and since having a nursing baby the whole idea of drinking cow milk is kind of creepy. I feel like it should really go to a baby cow and not so much to a human. I get visions of stuffing my head in some cows udder and gulping. *Shudder* Sometimes I am all for cheese and other times I think it leaves a film in my mouth that is kind of gross. Sort of like when you eat those chocolate hostess doughnuts and after the goodness is gone you get that awful scum in your mouth. I have always been a big dairy girl and put cheese on everything. I'm not sure what to think if I find out next month that dairy makes me gassy or something like that. I guess it means I get another tee-shirt.

6. I really like fruits and vegetables. Especially raw ones. Until recently, they have always seemed more like a garnish or a side to lunch. Like, when you have your banana or apple slices after your sandwich and chips. Now I am slowly discovering that a heavy fruit and veggie meal makes me feel light, energetic and happy with no strange burping, gas or other odd body issues.

Basically I have to relearn everything I thought I knew about food. My old way of eating is just not working for me anymore but making these kind of changes is a bit strange in its own right. I don't know that many people that have left #1-5 behind in their lives or even substantially reduced them. I am having to learn what meals look like, how to make them, how to have a social life and stay within the parameters that make me feel the best. It is a huge learning curve that I am bouncing around on, hoping to find a stable, easy way to remove food as the focus of my day.

Six months ago if you had told me I was going to write this I would have said you were out of your mind. There was no way I would ever consider walking away from meat, dairy, coffee, salt and refined grains. I loved them, they tasted good, millions of healthy people ate them every day so end of story. I won't and you can't make me. Stomp, Stomp, Pout.

Clearly I have watched The Secret one too many times because I went and got all, "My focus for this year is to get healthy, whatever that means, whatever that takes." I didn't explicitly mean giving up all my favorite comfort foods, but I guess when you say "whatever it takes" the universe takes you up on the offer. Crap. So here I am, arguing with myself on a daily basis. "you'll feel better if you eat that whole food meal" "but I want Starbucks!", "eat the banana" "Just one M&M?", "eat the banana", "how about Thai food, we like Thai food, there are vegetables in it and everything". "you'll be sorry" "what do you know" "Uh huh" ........ "I feel sick" "shocked, truly shocked" "shut up" "banana?"

Plus, there is this odd transition time where I don't exactly have the physique of someone who eats this way and explaining my choices to someone else is hard when I can barely explain it to myself. So for both of you that read this. Go with it. I am. My goal for now: Feel healthy, with energy and joy and a stable weight. I'm not sure what this will look like in the end, or how the changes are going to go, much less how long it will last. Maybe forever, maybe until next month. I am trying really hard not to overanalyze or over structure this into some hyper restrictive, obsessive thing. Instead I am trying to go with what feels right and see what happens. When I get there, I'll let you know. I think I'll take a banana now.

Insecurities aren't just for teenagers

2010-03-11T01:10:00.000-08:00

I remember being in high school thinking it would be so great to grow up because then all my issues would be resolved. By the time I was old, you know, like 30, I would have all my insecurity behind me. I would have my shit together, be confident, and have all the trimmings a hallmark card could offer. I really could not imagine that adults would walk around wondering if their ass looked big in their jeans today or what their friends or family thought about their choices. I assumed they would care to some extent but I assumed all the "oh my god, I can't believe I just said that", "did he/she just say that?", "what did they mean by that?", "is my ass ever going to get smaller?". I just assumed I would laugh a self confident laugh, smile and go about my day instead of lolling about in my own head creating obsessive rants about what I was or am going to say next time so and so says that or I find myself in "that" situation again. Good God I am trapped in my teenage insecurities, and a few new ones, forever or until I can get over them and myself. Damn it. Damn it to hell.

Lately I have been creating a lot of mommy insecurity for myself. Generally around the relative clingy-ness of my daughter and the fact that sleep around here takes an act of congress to occur. Frankly, it is really interfering with my social life. This past weekend was the first time my husband and I had left her with a babysitter and went out on a lunch date. It was lovely and she did fine with my mother the entire time. A huge step considering a few months ago she wouldn't let my mother touch her, let alone stay with her alone in the house.

She has always been wary of new people and sometime not so new people too, depending on the day. She always hangs on mommy, especially in the evening. She is a crappy sleeper anywhere other than at home in her/our bed and is one of those kids that just doesn't transfer well from the car to the house during nap-time or at night. Basically, if we go out of the house to see someone for lunch or dinner we have to create a strategy for sleep that involves driving around for the full 2 hour nap or getting home in the first 10 minutes of falling asleep in the car or she is up, cranky, for hours after her 20 minute "nap" regardless of the hour. We become the you-can-come-to-our-place-but-I-don't-think-going-out-will work-people. In one scenario we don't go out at all, she gets good sleep, I stay sane and we become shut-ins or the people with the difficult child (enter eye roll here) that just can't be taken out because we are coddling her and are to passive as parents. In the other we suck it up and go out and then head home knowing we are likely up to midnight or later with an overtired, screaming toddler that just won't go to sleep no matter how much we beg. It sucks either way.

It also eats at my insecurity that there might be something wrong with her, or us or both that she just can't do the hang out with new people, especially babysitters or take naps in the car, the stroller, someone elses' place or at least stay down through a transfer from the car to bed. To deal with this insecurity I start babbling explanations. This post is no exception.

I feel the need to tell her life story, to explain how she is getting better giving detailed examples that involve other children I have met with similar issues. If I am still getting the "you are crazy lady and your kid is weird look" it will just keep going like somehow that will make it better. I go on an on to my mom, my in-laws and the lady in the grocery store trying to convince myself by way of them that I am not screwing up after only 16 months.

It doesn't do much and at the end of it all I generally shake my head and confess to my patient husband that my crazy prattling that evening was my insecurity talking and not reason to have my head examined. So now you know. If I start the babbling in your presence just nod your head and say "your doing fine" in full confidence that it is not you, it's me, or more specifically my insecurities talking in my voice. I apologize in advance for any annoyance this causes. If we know each other well feel free to tell me that I am doing it again and I'll know what you mean.

In case you couldn't tell, it's been a long night fighting the bedtime evils and I think I shall try for sleep before I start over tomorrow.

Relative costs

2010-03-05T13:57:00.000-08:00

This is the cost of a shower lately. I threw out a sacrificial roll of toilet paper and she had her way with it. She stood right on the bath mat peeling that roll like fruit and handing me a wad of paper with a "mooommeeee" if I dawdled while doing my part of opening the door, and dripping on the floor to receive said paper. Whatever, I got a shower, a triumph in itself. Sorry roll, someone has to pay for my cleanliness.

Separation Anxiety is kicking my ass

2010-03-04T23:33:00.000-08:00

Hard! It got better for a while, but she has been working on cutting those first molars lately and I am being worked over by a barnacle in the body of my child. I feel like I have been transported back a year.

Back to the baby that would not be put down. That six week old who determined that only mommy could hold her and none other would do. Nope, not even for a minute. That child that I loved so dearly, being carried everywhere, all the time to keep the screaming to a minimum. When I say all the time I mean that we never, ever, had tummy time because she wouldn't tolerate being put down. We didn't do exersaucers or jumpers or even strollers as the separation of even a few minutes would cause her to turn purple screaming. The child that refused her father and everyone else. After four full months she accepted her father holding her and after a year accepted her grandparents. We were making progress. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. I could see myself having personal time. Hiring a babysitter and going on a date with my husband. It was there, it was beautiful.

I think she knew. Just as the vision of my personal time was becoming especially vivid she regressed. She had a short period like this in november and it ended with four shiny new teeth. Then she perked back up and I was back to lovely visions of exercise and making dinner with both arms.

Its been just over a month now and she is testing my sanity. It even got worse this week. She has once again refused her father unless she initiates contact. To make dinner he has been dragging her into the back bedroom, locking the door so she can scream without getting to me. Even with the TV on and water running I can hear her wailing behind the closed door. As you would imagine, we have been eating out quite a bit during this period of joy as I just can't take the screaming and the meal clamoring and the dishes that follow. Just when I think I can't take one more moment something amazing happens and I can't hate her for pushing me to the edge of insanity and then yanking me back.

She started saying "mommy" this week. I love that. Her little sing-song voice "moooooommmyyyyy" First thing in the morning a smile and a "Hi Mommy!" Melt my heart. The hugs when she lays her head on my shoulder like I am the best thing in the world. When she takes my finger and drags me around the yard showing me all her favorite things and babbling in her own private language. The rest of the time it is mommy or bust. Or mommy and the bust as she has ramped up the nursing in anticipation of new teeth.

She did cut a molar today. There it was poking through her gums. A glimmer of hope in the form of new enamel. It might end. I might have a life again one day. I tell myself that it can't go on forever. Someday she will be a grumbly teenager and I will have to chase her down for a hug, and I will wish my baby would want to be near me again. Somedays it seems like a mantra. "it won't last forever" "she won't go to high school on your hip" "this too shall pass". Somedays it works. Somedays not so much. The insanity and the insane love for a little person. The contrast between what I need and she needs and my marriage needs and all the rest. Somedays I feel like a rockstar and somedays I want to sit in the corner, hug my knees and rock until that days version of crazy passes.

I watched Oprah's Oscar special yesterday and when asked about his kids, Ben Affleck said they were fantastic and amazing and ended his gushing by saying "but don't do it if you aren't ready". He's right. Kids are great but not if you aren't ready. They all have their own personal crazy that drives parents nuts and if you just aren't there yet you will resent the hell out of them for taking you away from yourself or your spouse or your job or whatever. There is no way I could have done this ten years ago or even five years ago. That girl would have lost it completely and resented this gig and all that goes with it. This girl can do it. This girl wants to do it, and most of the time, even likes it. It's not all rainbows and bunny rabbits, but there is plenty of amazing to blot out the crappy and in fifty years I won't remember the crazy as much as I will remember the love and fun and great memories and the stories that go with the pictures in the photo albums. I'll say something to my grandkids like "your mother was quite a handful" and then move on to some funny story and all the tired and drama will melt away like it never happened. I really believe you get the kids you are supposed to get, the ones you need to grow as a person. I'm not sure yet what all the needly, clingy, can't sleep baby is supposed to do for me. Maybe it is a crash course it making time for myself. Crap I hate life lessons. All useful and stuff. Sigh.

Anyway, I think this concludes my own personal rant for today. Thank you for participating in this version of mommy therapy. Please come again.

Another ordinary day

2010-02-24T20:41:00.000-08:00

Trips to the park are always a lot of fun. Here is how a recent trip went.

First the good times. Girly decided to take her first solo trip down the slide. A big moment for all.

Then things just got silly. Fish face silly. And just like that a new silly face was discovered.

Then, when I looked away, some sort of tragedy struck. No one knows exactly what happened.

She fled to her safe spot. Mommy. Mommy's can fix everything.

Crisis averted. Resume silly. Everybody plays along.

Another fabulously, ordinary, wonderful day comes to an end. May we have many, many more.

When bathrooms are no longer private

2010-02-23T18:28:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She would use the bathroom alone. Alone with her thoughts, her stink and the occasional magazine. Worst case she might need the assistance of a hand through the door with the toilet paper she forgot to replace last time the room was occupied.

Back to reality. I am a mom. It's been over a year now since I have had the luxury of using the potty (see, told you) on my own. It's been so long that I don't even bother to close the door anymore because the moment I do a little hand appears on the door and pushes it WIDE open and says "Hiiieee!" and then walks away. I've done experiments where I reach over and close the door again as soon as she is gone (because we live in a large, luxurious home with large rooms), and like a homing pigeon she reappears to open it again. Sometimes it is my own personal game but that is just because I need to get out of the house with actual adults more often. I digress.

In addition to the worlds apparent implosion if I pee privately, I need my own personal toilet paper attendant. Except my attendant is stingy with the paper and picks of minute pieces for me one at a time until I have a handful of toilet paper confetti and she is very proud of herself for "helping" mommy.

Alternatively, she skips me altogether and just throws them in all on her own. To get paper for my own personal use I have to beg, snatch the roll and tear a few sheets and get it back into her hands before she can figure out that it is gone. Sometimes she eats her confetti and tries to offer me some. Yummy.

Then if I can manage to get her to back up enough for me to stand up, she rushes right in to get herself a front row seat for the flushing. She likes to wave "bye bye" as her confetti papers swirls out of sight and it is my job to keep her from reaching in to save it from certain doom.

I forget that most people on the planet, including the former me of 16 months ago, considers this to be something called "personal time". I lost that as a concept the moment I heard the words "It's a girl!". I think all the gyno visits when you are pregnant are preparation for having tiny eyes bore into your soul while you are using the potty. Incidentally it used to be a toilet, but who's tracking these things anyway. I am so used to this concept of no personal space that I forget how normal adults behave in the bathroom. Most adults, my husband included, still get to go it alone. At work, in the stall in the mens room, and even at home most of the time because the kid is stuck to my leg in the other room. He still gets to hand her to me and say "I'm going to go to the bathroom for a bit. Here." And just like that he gets to poop in peace. I don't sound bitter right? Occasionally he will walk by and catch a glimpse of my life as confetti holder and get all, "Oh, geez!" on me and act all flustered at the scene he is observing as if I had a choice in door open or closed today. Sorry babe. This is my life. Welcome.

Until today. I got up first, got the kiddo dressed and ready to rock. He stumbled out of bed and headed for the bathroom as we all do first thing in the morning. For whatever reason he wandered out to the hall bathroom that is right across from the nursery where we were finishing her morning diaper and dressing ritual. She got all excited to see daddy and ran into the bathroom. From the kitchen I hear the following exchange:

SLAM goes the door against the wall.
Squeal and "Hiiiiieeee!"
"Oh, hi kid" (faint sound of peeing)
"Oh...Oh...Ahhh...Ahhhh....NO, NO, NO, NO!"

Sure, I could have gone in there and saved him. But I didn't. Instead I had a moment of confusion and then a case of the giggles and a huge evil grin as I realized that our girl found herself looking at daddy and a great big stream of water that she just *had* to try to get her hands on, much to the dismay of her father. Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha. Finally. There IS a down side to being able to pee standing up. After all those years of camping and freezing my butt off, I finally found and upside to having to sit down when nature calls.

Body Image. From I hate you, to I love you.

2010-02-22T00:01:00.000-08:00

I had an experience today that I have not had since I was a kid. I looked in the mirror and had a positive experience with my reflection. Lets all pause a moment to let that statement sink in. Seriously. What happened to all my vast insecurities and poor body image? Who knows. Who cares. I hope they stay wherever it is that they all scampered off too. To put this day in perspective, I have to think about how long it has been since I have experienced a sense of joy living within my own form.

I know that as a kid I never really thought about my body much. It got me where I needed to go and moved when I needed it to. I never thought about being fat or thin, pretty or ugly or if my eye circles were too visible or any other of the myriad of things that have gone screaming through my mind for so many years. Slowly, over time, that feeling of satisfaction changed into mild discomfort and slid into total dissatisfaction and sometimes downright loathing. I can't say how many times I've looked in the mirror and seen some odd stranger staring back at me. She moved like me and resembled some vague memory of who I was but never really seemed to be me. More of a caricature than a reflection. A stranger with familiar eyes.

In 7th grade I was diagnosed with scoliosis of the lumbar spine. I was on the edge of needing spinal surgery. At 22 degrees of curvature, I was just 2 degrees past the magic cutoff of 20 degrees and not needing surgical correction. It was decided that as I was not yet done growing I had a chance to avoid surgical placement of metal rods along my spine in a device called the Boston Jacket. That is a cute name for a 1/2 inch plastic mold of my torso, padded with foam, wrapping all the way around my body from under my bust to the fold of my hips. I was required to wear it 24 hours a day, for two years, taken off only to shower or go swimming. I even slept in the brace. The idea was that it places pressure on the spine opposite to the curvature and as you grow, it forces you straighter, and in my case out of the surgical category. To say it sucked was an understatement, but surgery and metal spinal rods was more terrifying than the plastic, so on it went. It did work. I grew a good two inches in two years and topped out at 5' 10" by the end of 9th grade. I had avoided surgery but created a new and equally serious problem in the form of body image.

Wearing that thing was uncomfortable and ungodly hot. To keep it from chaffing my skin I wore a mens "wife beater" tank underneath it, and pulled the velcro attachment as tight as possible to avoid creating blisters. It did not bend, so neither did I. I was a girl in a plastic corset, squatting to pick things up and avoiding a sideways lean at all costs. Remember Joan Cusack's character of "Geek Girl #1" in Sixteen Candles, imagine that girl without the headgear and you get the idea.

The plastic and foam never breathed, so most days it was soaked with sweat by the end of the day. Plastic and velcro adhere to clothing in strange ways so I wore a camisole over the top to keep my clothes moving around it and avoid having them spontaneosuly tucking themselves into the velcro in the middle of 3rd period history. 8th and 9th grade are harrowing enough without your clothes getting stuck in your back brace. The brace did strange things to my body proportion making my hips, butt and waist strangely out of proportion with my actual shape. Clothes fit really poorly as I needed a size or two larger than the rest of my body in order to fit my waist into clothing. I never liked how I looked. I began settling of for not horrible as my new good, and spend too many hours near tears when it came to parties and other social events where I had to wear an outfit that only exacerbated my level of self-conscious neurosis. I found myself at the height of puberty putting on lots of layers and hiding my body as much as possible. God bless the early 90's and the layered look.

I spent those years terrified that someone would touch my body and know I was wearing plastic body armor and what little I social dignity I had scraped together would be gone forever. I had nightmares of people knocking on my stomach just to hear the hollow echo of my lost dignity. I found ways of avoiding the crowded hallways of high school, and kept clear of any and all kinds of close quarters like the plague. You can imagine of how this kind of hiding, fear and shame would reek havoc with your body image.

Once I did get that thing off, my hips still didn't sit level to my spine, so all those cute cutoff shorts with tights and any fabulous colored denim skirts just didn't hang level. Then for some reason, to torture myself further while fixing another issue, I decided to add braces to last few years of high school. Somewhere in the middle there was a summer day when a family member ran a finger down my leg a few inches between my knee and the top of my shorts. When I asked, "What are you doing?", the reply came back, "Checking the fat content." That was the first time I had ever considered that I might be fat. My leg had dimpled when pressed, right? Just like that I had a new fear. Fat. Oh God, not fat. Oddly when you focus on something, it becomes the truth and all that you can see. I have seen photos of myself in high school. Fat would not be a word to describe how I looked, but at the time I was terrified of what I saw in the dimpled depressions of my thigh. To reinforce these thoughts, some of the boys in my swim practice carpool spontaneously decided I should have the nickname Sasquatch and/or Pool Cow, depending on the day. Slam dunk, there goes my self-esteem.

That is the face of teenage girl body image issues. Big things, little things, they all create this monster called "I hate my body". One day you look in the mirror and nothing is wrong and the next nothing is right. A few external reinforcements and 20 years later you still see the monster in the mirror.

Over the past 10 years I have gained 80 pounds, the last twenty with my pregnancy. Sure I have lost some and gained it back, plus a bit more, a few times. I think I have been on a diet or exercise program for most of my adult life. The more I weighed, the more became obsessive with my weight, the more I tried new diets and the more the number on the scale rose to meet my fear of fat. There has been time spent with each of: Deal-A-Meal, Fit-or-Fat, The Zone, Blood Type Diet, Atkins, Perricone Perscription, Dr. Phil Diet solution, Bob Greene Total Body Makeover, Fat Smash Diet, Diet Cure, TCM natural guide to weight loss, Tae-Bo, Beach Body- Power 90, 24 hour fitness, Butterfly Life, TOPS, online calorie tracking, phone applications for calorie tracking, 1/2 marathon, and probably a few more that I can't even remember. All I learned is that obsessing about my body is not helping even a little bit. All the obsessing, charting, counting, and self loathing in the world is not helping and it is not how healthy people behave toward food or their bodies.

This year I decided to stop all that. I decided to give myself permission to live my life on my own terms. I would no longer obsess about what I was or was not doing right or wrong today and all the days before this. I would make small changes that I thought I could live with for the rest of my life, try them out for 30 days, and see what happened. I would continue making changes until I saw results and things started changing. I would live with whatever weight the scale read when I was living a healthy mental and physical life. There would be no more, "diet stats on monday" crap.

Just me, a journal, and the question, "what do you want to do?". Not a list of what I don't want, but a list of what I do want. A total shift of perspective. And a total sense of fear. Who the hell am I? What is my emotional life when I am not numbing myself with sugar and processed foods? When I let go of all the should do's I realized that I had spent most of my life living by the rules of someone else's idea of what a good life and body should be. My mother, my father, my friends, my boss, my church, my grocery checker, my imaginary definition of a good wife, mother, woman, friends, sister, daughter and all the rest. They all got a say in who I should be, or what I thought, they thought, I should be. The only voice missing was mine. Yes, it sounds strange because it is strange. Who are these people and how did they get to decide who I am? How did I get left out of the decision? I honestly have no idea. No one needs a clone of a life already lived. I need to learn how to live my life, whatever that is, whoever that is.

Then comes the anxiety. What if I stopped putting energy into all the relationships that don't give anything back and instead focus on what I like or what I think I like or think I am interested in? Will I have any friends? Will my family still love me? Will my husband look at me and wonder who the hell this woman is that he married? Will I even like myself? Can you do that? Sure you can. People do it all the time. I was just going to be the newest newbie in the group.

I have spent the first few weeks of this year oscillating between elation at all the possibilities and paralyzing fear at how it is changing my outlook on my life. I am in a weird state of in between where my focus is very short sighted and highlighting myself. I am reading new books and websites, trying new foods and viewpoints. Trying on possibilities like sunglasses at Target. How do I like being a vegetarian? A vegan? A meatatarian? I see a TV program about religions I've never heard of, meditation I've never tried, sports and hobbies and professions I had previously dismissed and now I google them all and see what I think. Try them out if I can. I talk to strangers in the park just because, and stare into shopping carts and reading lists at the library. I feel like I have ordered the appetizer sampler and am giving it a try. I have no idea how this will end up and which ideas and activities will stick, so I'll let you know later when I sound a bit less like a college freshman that changes their major every five minutes to a new life passion.

The short version is that giving myself the freedom to discover myself, regardless of how it might appear to the imaginary critic in my head, has been quite an experience. I have begun to see myself in ways I hadn't though of before and with a lot more gentleness and love than I have previously allowed. Even though this process if just beginning, when I looked in the mirror this morning I was at peace with my reflection. I didn't even notice it at first. It took a few passes in and out of the bathroom before it occurred to me that I hadn't berated my image. I hadn't looked at my face and lamented that I looked tired. I had skipped the squishy bits around my thighs that always get me when I pass by a mirror. I hadn't sucked in my stomach and wondered if I still looked pregnant 15 months later. None of that had happened. The scale hadn't changed yet, I hadn't even showered, and yet I was more comfortable in my skin today than yesterday. Completely comfortable. Angels didn't sing and there were no visions of future greatness. Just a subtle shift that seems to have been gaining momentum over the past few weeks. My usual mantra wasn't playing today. The silence was deafening, and somewhere deep inside I could feel myself smiling at my own image. How odd and delightful it was to have a positive experience with my reflection. I stood there and savored that inner smile until it showed on my face. Then I looked at myself from all angles like some hoot owl on patrol and yes, the smile was still there. I loved and appreciated my body today, possibly for the first time, and it was great. I think I shall try it again tomorrow, as it is ever so much nicer than the alternative.

Baby Brain Suckers

2010-02-08T18:26:00.000-08:00

Do have one of these? Yeah, me too. Most of the time it is an interesting chew toy/ teether. Occasionally it gets used to suck the brains and a bit of snot out of our kids head.
She hates it. A lot. I've really only had to use it once when she was really little and she wasn't sleeping at night due to congestion. Out of sheer desperation, I have it a try. It mostly worked, and it really made her upset so I'm not sure if it was worth the effort. Now, at 15months, she is at the upper limit of this thing. She is better about kleenex and is almost understanding the concept of "blow" into the tissue.
A while back I got curious and decided that if I was going to shove it up her nose, I might as well try it on myself. If I was going to do it to her, I might as well brave it at least once. Really, it can't be all that bad, it's just a snot sucker. Right. WRONG!
I seriously underestimated the heebie-jeebie factor of this thing. It ticked a bit going in, kind of like what I would imagine an ant would feel like if it crawled up my nostril. Then came the suction. I think I sucked out some high school algebra lessons, I'm not sure. I felt that thing pull into the sinus cavity in my forehead. Whoah, good lord. That made me shudder and shake my head to attempt to re-establish equilibrium in my head. I'm not sure you could make a case for when I would use it again, unless I had a horrid sinus congestion issue and even then I would eye it suspiciously from across the room for a long time and go out any buy a neti pot hoping that would work instead. What I learned from this ordeal, was that I wasn't going to stick it up my babies nose unless it was absolutely necessary because I wouldn't care to use that thing a second time myself. You know, The Golden Rule and all that. At any rate, the point of this story is to tell you this one.
This week my husband told me he tried it on Genevieve earlier to attempt to relieve her congestion. As one would imagine, she fought him and generally hated it, and probably him, for doing it. When he told me about it I had a short flashback to my own brain sucking incident and told him how icky it was and suggested that he try it on himself before using it again. He refused.
What followed was a brief wrestling match where I grabbed the aspirator and tried to hold him down and suck out his brains.. all in good fun you see. He squeaked, he squawked, he even held Genevieve in front of his face as a human shield against the feared aspirator. I ended my attempt with coercion and shame.
"If you loved your daughter, you would try it yourself"
"No!, I refuse"
"You would subject your child to something that you won't try?"
"No!, It's awful. I won't"
"Suck it up! Your a cop for crying out loud! One brain suck won't kill you."
"It might! Ack, get away with that thing!"

It went on like this for a few minutes until Genevieve go upset that no one was paying attention to her anymore. He never tried it. Men, such wimps when it comes to one small aspirator and it's application. Sheesh, It's not like I was going to kill him, just have a good laugh at his expense.

So how about you. Are you man or woman enough to give that thing a try? Come on... you know you want to!!!

The dog had a rude awakening

2010-02-04T22:23:00.000-08:00

One of the fun things about having boy dogs is that they discover early on that even if they are neutered they have the ability to give themselves a little pleasure now and then. Our dog is no exception to this rule. In fact I hear that many animals will do this.

Much like the walrus in the clip, our Murphy was caught in the hallway by our own Miss Genevieve. I did my best to shoo him to another part of the house. He moved, I thought it was over. I was wrong. Next thing I know I hear a sharp yelp. I look up from my dinner preparations to see the dog scurry down the hall and little Genevieve look surprised from his previous location. I can only assume the dog resumed his former activities and our curious girl saw something interesting and thought she would reach out and poke it. Ahhh, kids. I am fairly sure the dog will think twice before assuming he will be left alone to take care of personal matters in the future.

We have the nicest neighbors

2010-02-03T23:10:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately, they must think we are totally nuts. Our crazy dog that can be all over people in our house has a particular way of meeting people. Oddly our kid has a similar philosophy: "Don't touch me until I show interest in you and then go slowly so I can run away if necessary."

We have lived in this place for over four years now. The stupid dog still barks at the neighbors when they go into their back yard, because, you know, they might be invaders or something. He sees' them out in the front yard a few times a week and has yet to let them touch him.

Today I think the baby incident solidified our position as the official "crazy neighbors". In her defense, we were minutes from naptime, and she was wiped. The garbage cans were at the curb, and I took her with me to bring them back into the yard before heading to bed. As we stepped out of the gate, our neighbors were standing in their driveway a few feet away. When they saw her they were happy to see us and came over to say hello. My crazy kid burst into tears at "hello", hid her face in my chest and refused to even look at them.

We then had my favorite conversation where I get asked about why she is so shy, and how often she stays with other people. Your basic, "do you socialize her at all, or just keep her locked in a closet all day?" It's so hard to explain that she truly is getting better. That I take her somewhere every day. We go to playdates, the park, the mall, anywhere where she can see other people and kids. She has always had crazy separation anxiety that is slowly going from only being held by mom, and held all stinking day, to okay with dad and family and friends. I know most kids are okay with babysitters and warm up to new people in a way that doesn't include tears and the death grip on moms shirt, but those kids belong to other people. What can I say? She really can be friendly, she just does it on her own terms. When she finally manages to stay with a sitter you can bet I will announce it here a few days before we announce her wedding date. Stay tuned people, the big day is coming.

My favorite things

2010-02-01T21:45:00.000-08:00

We have a new park in town and after only one visit, I am already in love. Great for little ones. All covered in rubberized asphalt with the coolest sandbox ever, hills, spinny cups and great colors along with the assortment of swings and slides. The best part is that it is all less than 10 minutes from our place. I'll let you know when the fun wears off and I find a new park to love. Until then, here is my new favorite place. I feel like Oprah.

Here are a few of the fun things we did today in our new favorite place. The sandbox was todays focal point of fun and splashing.

Through her eyes

2010-01-30T21:20:00.000-08:00

A trip to the mall is not for shopping, or food or watching cute boys (yet), it is always and totally for: Riding the escalator as many times as possible before dad (or mom) goes bonkers.

Down

Repeat as necessary.

Many happy returns

2010-01-29T10:59:00.000-08:00

The saga for the week has a different, um, flavor? No, that is the wrong word altogether. Skip that. This has been a bad week for sleeping over here. I think our lady is attempting to sprout some molars and is taking her sweet time of it. She has also had a serious case of the fussies, clingies and wake up all nights. To add to the festivities, she swallowed a dime before bed on Tuesday.

here she is calling the advice nurse before turning in.

I wasn't all that concerned as it seems pretty normal for kids to experiment with careers as piggy banks at some point, so I figured we would wait for our return of investment later in the week. Yesterday she added a snotty nose to the fussy factor and decided that if she was congested she should get up every hour, and then if from 2-5am she couldn't sleep, then I should stay up and keep her company. Fantastic. Of course I was having no trouble sleeping and she kept poking me, picking, hitting and screaming at me when I would nod off. It was like a Jr. High slumber party where no one is allowed to sleep because one girl decides it would be "fun" to stay up all night. No one wins in these situations. Even the dog wandered in at one point in an attempt to discover what all the fuss was about.
The happy news is that as of this morning our investment was returned and Genevieve now has a dime with an interesting patina to add to her keepsake box. Somehow, the little lady seems rather perky for a girl that skipped half a nights sleep. Me. Not so perky. Now I need a nap, and I hope I can convince girly to take one too.

Random stuff I think about

2010-01-27T21:54:00.000-08:00

We have successfully made our first Transmogrifier this week. Here is a look:

In case you can't remember what a Transmogrifier is, we modeled ours after these original specifications:

Garbage is all the rage

2010-01-24T13:26:00.000-08:00

I am finding all kinds of things in strange places these days. Its kind of like having a daily scavenger hunt with all of your own stuff. I assume this is what it would be like to have elves, or a toddler.
This weeks episode of strangeness is centered around the garbage can. Throwing things away is so much fun, I should send her to A&E so she can work with the hoarders and show them how its done. In the wake of her newest hobby I have become just as obsessive about the garbage, checking a few times a day to make sure nothing important goes to the dump-that I know of. In the past few days, I have managed to rescue:
a spoon
a t-shirt
multiple refrigerator magnets
a remote control
a pair of her shoes

I'm not sure what has slid past the system, but I am missing a pair of car keys and I am truly hoping we adults have put them somewhere "safe" only to forget where it is thereby proving the safety of that spot. In college I got a version of the clapper, but for keys as a gift. It would make my keys beep when you clapped near the sensor. It seemed silly at the time, right now it would be rather useful if I still had it around.
Keep your eyes peeled and don't leave your stuff unattended, who knows where it will end up. Under the couch or in the garbage (you guess which can).

My little piggie had everything!

2010-01-20T11:37:00.000-08:00

We had a playdate yesterday. Which was fantastic because with all this rain I am feeling quite a bit homebound and having people over made the we-have-to-stay-in-the-house crazies more manageable. For Three glorious hours I had adult converstaion about our kids. I never acutally thought that would be remotely enjoyable but, hey, people change right? You have kids, you lose your mind!

I digress. Back to the topic at hand-- My piggie. Actually she is a small human but she was sucking up snacks yesterday like a tiny hoover and she wasn't to proud to beg. Yup, she begged. Plopped her butt in front of every adult in the room and demanded to be fed. Like some ill-trained puppy at dinnertime, she got right in their faces and screamed if she had to. You know what, it worked. Every time.

Let's recap. I fed her a late breakfast of scrambled eggs and oatmeal, and then some banana because she just kept eating. Then she moved on to the puffs when Leila's mommy brought them out. Think feeding time at the petting zoo, when you get mauled by goats for your ice cream cone of pellets. My kid was the most aggressive goat, stealing/helping herself to handfuls at a time and stuffing her face.

Next, Riley's mommy (or Riley) left a snack cup of crackers on the floor. We discovered this when I looked at Genevieve and said, "what are you eating now?" and there was the cup, now empty of its crackers. Then she demanded Riley share his tangerine, most of which got rubbed on her shirt. I went and got a tangerine for her to eat, a special one just for her, but it just wasn't the same. It did deflect her for a bit though.

Then there were crackers. The mommies had some on the table that were found out. Then everyone had to have them. My little angel kept accosting Noah and stealing his crackers. In between thefts and attempted thefts, she made a royal mess on the floor. Upside, she used the opportunity to showcase her I-eat-like-a-fratboy-skills by shoving as many crackers in her mouth as possible without choking. Fantastic. Most of the crakcers came courtesy of Noah, poor kid. Keeping them apart and with cracker took the better part of 20 minutes. In my attempts to keep my kid from stealing or choking to death and the floor from an avalance of crumbs for tiny feel to slip on, I missed Alexandria's mommy take out a yogurt. Oops.

Next thing I know, my kid has screeched. She has climbed into another lap in demand of yogurt and, being a gracious mommy that she is, she obliged my piggie. In retrospect I should have taken a more active role in beating her off the adults with a piggie stick, but the sight of my partially reclusive kid climbing on other adults was such an oddity that I spent entirely too much time gawking at the sight.

Thank you to the moms for being good sports about her unending need for food yesterday. I'll work on the demanding bit and try to keep her off of you next time. Manners=Fail. Just in case you were wondering, after they left she took a nap, woke up hungry and ate her way through the entire evening, including a stint and demanding Wasabi Peas. My kid with the hollow leg and strange tastes. Tomorrow I expect her to be two inches taller, or maybe heavier. Someday we are going to hit 21 lbs, and be legal to turn around the carseat. A mom can dream.

Taco Tantrums

2010-01-18T21:08:00.000-08:00

It seemed like a good idea. Cook at home, save some money. A simple layered taco in a pan, plus lime flavored Tostitos. An easy, yummy favorite around here. Except for tonight. Tonight we had a toddler that wants to do everything herself. And I forgot. There goes our happy dinner. Crap.
She had to hold her own chips. She had to scoop the dip herself. I could hear her screaming her version of, "I'll do it myself. I'm big!"

But she isn't all that big and she can't do it herself- yet. She couldn't actually get anyting on the chip but mostly, she couldn't scoop without breaking her chips. Major problem. She was so mad she ended up screaming and throwing them across the table. Her frustration was palpable and I tried to help by using a spoon instead of chips. Nope, no good. Do-Not-Help-Me!! Do-Not-Take-My-Chip!! Do-Not-Offer-Me-Dip-On-A-Spoon!! was blazened across her forehead like some leaderboard. Bless her, she was determined to use her own stinking chip, under her own power, to get at the dip. Clearly we underestimated the importance of dip when you are tiny.

Finally we rigged up a spot to push toppings around the dish. It was goey and messy and it sort of worked. Mostly it made a glorious mess out of her, her clothes, hair and our clothes and the table. This triggerd the second crisis of dinner in that my neat and clean husband nearly imploded watching her make a mess and smear it in her hair. He is not coping well with her newest love of food-as-hair-gel, or finger paints, or clothing accessories. My philosopy goes something like: "Whatever. Everything is washable, and she stays happy while I have ten minutes to eat/ she has to learn to use a spoon eventually." He is also not used to the stomping, throwing tantrum phase we are just beginning to glimpse. Poor guy. I hope he survives.

In the end the chips & dip dinner became an unintentional fiasco and most of the time was spent screaming, throwing things and refusing to eat. And that was just my husband. Better luck next time Martha Stewart.