We're off...

In an attempt to beat winter storm Electra, we left yesterday afternoon. RWF and the children walked through the house, saying goodbye to each room. We then buckled everyone into the car. RWF and I ran back into the house and said our own goodbye.

The drive was pretty crazy. I was so glad that I wasn't driving. It took a long time, but we got to a our (reserved) hotel.  The snow and wind were blowing hard when we got out & ran into our room. We ordered some food, put the babies in pjs, then settled into our beds (after eating). It took a long time for sleep to come, but it did.

This morning, Nico slipped on the kitchen floor and cut his head. I was not thrilled about an open wound occurring in this Petri dish...but nothing to be done. We ran him down to the office for some  cleaner. He is okay but sporting a cut & bump on his head.

Other mishaps have occurred, which I will get into later. Hopefully, our plane will take off and we will be on our way.
See you on the flip side.
xo

Santa

In another attempt to be all Christmas-y, I told the children that we would visit Santa today.  Bode and Gianna were so excited. They were bouncing around our house until Nico (finally!) woke up from his nap. 

We get to the mall.  (Note: eeek! This place is so gross. No joke. But in the name of Christmas, I went there.) The children's eyes were huge, taking in all the sights and lights, the Christmas decorations galore...so much to see!  I never take my children to the mall (see previously written description of said mall) so this was like going to Disneyland for them (albeit  the Disney version known as "skankytown").

We (finally) arrive at the center of the mall where Santa is sitting on his throne, amid some (empty) presents, ugly Poinsettias, and fake snow.  Suddenly, Bode and Gianna are quiet and reserved. No longer are they hopping along like rabbits. They eye Santa warily.  When our turn arrives, they stand back, and do not want to approach Santa.  I walk ahead, with Nico in the stroller.  I notice that Santa is on his cell phone. SERIOUSLY? I look at the photographer and say loudly,  "It looks like Santa must be calling to check on his reindeer!"  The photographer winks at me and says, "Yes, he's on the phone with Mrs. Claus!"  I've had enough of this charade and turn back to Bode and Gianna.  They stand back, eyes dull. "Okay, monkeys! Let's say hi to Santa!"  By this time, Santa has gotten off his what I can only assume is a very important call and turns to my children. No, "Ho ho ho!" but he smiles and beckons them over.  Bode walks up to him and Santa cuts right to the chase, asking Bode if he wants Batman for Christmas.  Bode mumbles, "No," and stares at his feet while Santa asks him what he would like Santa to bring him. Meanwhile, Gianna is holding up the line behind us because she refuses to move an inch forward toward Santa.  I wave her down and she shakes her head No.  I walk back up the ramp to her and say in my most cheerful Mommy voice, "Come on, Gianna, Santa is waiting to say Hi to you!"  But she isn't interested in meeting Santa.  Santa's photographer tricks her to walk down by offering her a stuffed toy.  But Gianna still won't go near Santa.  They are waiting on taking the photo, trying to get Gianna to stand in the vicinity of Santa. No go.  I don't care. I'm totally understandable about a child who is not keen on approaching a stranger masquerading as Santa Claus. I smile and say, "It's okay! Gianna doesn't have to be in the photo!"  The photographer starts snapping photos of Bode, who is not smiling an authentic smile but trying. Nico is bored/tired/hungry but sits patiently on Santa's lap (I'll say it again: he is such a good baby, oh my god).

Santa's photographer and I meet at her laptop screen to view the photos she snapped.  I just want to leave so I pick a photo where Bode is kind of smiling (and Nico looks...sick).  By the time I sign the credit card slip, the photo is ready.  I admire it with Bode as we walk out of Santa's "village" (in the middle of the mall).  When Gianna sees the photo, she perks up and whispers, "I want a photo with Santa."  I smile and say, "Of course, you do, sweetie" trying not to grit my teeth.  

We make a small U-turn back to Santa.  We stand in line for a few minutes.  When the photographer sees us, she says, "Oh, back so soon!"  I explain that  Gianna is willing to give Santa a few minutes of her time for a quick photo op.

Gianna has her diva moment.  She walks off  when Santa tries to talk to her.  When we suggest that she stands in front of everyone, she decides to stand off to the left, or off to the right, or just anywhere out of the camera's range.  Gianna looks ticked off and annoyed, like, "Whose idea was this, anyway?"  We use all sorts of toys, lights, and sounds to get her to look.at.the.damn.camera.already.  Nothing worked.

I couldn't believe her. 

I am not one to force my children to pose with Santa. But Gianna said that she wanted to (again), we waited in line (again), and we were going to get that photo!  Okay, so I gave up and told the photographer to just find the best shot.

Merry Christmas from Mia Gianna, everyone:

I think I'll skip the visit to "Santa" next year.

xo

Gianna's last day of school

Today we said goodbye to Miss Amy, Gianna's teacher.  It was very hard!  It was very hard for me.  Gianna doesn't seem affected by it.  She doesn't understand that she won't see Miss Amy again. I tried to talk to her this morning on the way to school, about saying goodbye but she quickly became bored with the conversation.

Miss Amy and I cried, giving each other hugs.  And then Miss Amy kneeled down and hugged Gianna one last time, saying, "Goodbye, sweet Gianna, I will miss you so much!" We promised to "keep in touch" as people often say in these hard farewells.

sigh.

This little girl has no idea how much her world is changing.  Hopefully she'll handle it well.

When I picked Bode up this afternoon from school, his teacher pulled me aside for a quick chat. She asked that I arrive 15 minutes early on Friday. She told me that the class will sing a "goodbye song" to Bode. She concluded, "Nothing overwhelming, just a little song to send him on his way. I don't want to make him emotional." "Or me,"  I retorted "You don't want to make me emotional."  She kind of laughed, looking surprised at my response.  Oh Miss Lynn, if only we had more time together, you would know that this is no laughing matter.

Friends, I'm now dreading Friday afternoon! 

Happy Tuesday Wednesday.
xo

Oh, Christmas tree...

There seems to be some concern (clears throat) about Bode Wm's need for Christmas decorations. I won't name any names (clears throat) (AUNT DAWNIE) but everyone can rest assured that Bode Wm knows that we are celebrating Christmas in Portland.  And we are doing Christmas-y things in our spare time (viewing Christmas lights, listening to Christmas music, reading Christmas stories (thank you Aunt Melinda!).

Yes, he's excited, and yes, he probably would feel better if  our whole house was a-blaze in lights a la Clark Griswold's house in Christmas Vacation. 

But that is not going to happen.

Remember his little "tree" that he brought home from school? We decorated it with scraps (really) around the house.  I removed a small strand of star garland from one of Gianna's school art projects and put it on the tree. I drew some stars and Christmas "lights" for Bode to color. Being the selfless and devoted mother I am, I even sacrificed my very latest issue of Bazaar, and cut it up (the tinsel portrait of Karl Lagerfeld's design team, a gold star necklace, a diamond bangle, etc.). (If RWF happens to look at the tree, he might think that I've done lost my mind and am dropping some really expensive hints.)  I actually taped the cut-outs to the tree using a roll of packing tape left by the movers. (Crafty! Martha's got nothing on me!)

We have a Charlie Brown tree in place.  It stands by its lonely self, mostly ignored by everyone, against the living room wall. It's not perfect, but it will do for now. 

Now everybody sing it with me: "Oh, Christmas tree. Oh, Christmas tree...."

xo

The brown-haired Grandma

December 8, 2011

When Bode and Gianna were little, my mom loved gifting them stuffed bears and other seasonal animals from the Build-A-Bear store.  Inside each one, she recorded a message, usually along the lines of, "Hi Bode! It's Grandma! I love you!"

When my mom died, one of the first things I thought of was these stuffed animals.  I knew that I could not bear to hear my mom's cheerful voice ringing through the playroom.  So I told RWF to please "get rid of" the stuffed animals.  He did by bagging them all up and sticking them in a closet.

One stuffed toy found its way out during our move. It was a Frosty the Snowman.  Frosty's hat plays a magical jingle (signifying when he comes to life) and lights up.  The children love it.  Frosty also has a recording of my mom, but I didn't remember until Bode pressed Frosty's hand. My mom's voice announced, "Merry Christmas, Bode! It's Grandma. I love you!"

As you can guess,  hearing my mom's voice jarred me.  It made me sad. I wanted to throw away Frosty immediately before Bode could play the recording again.

Bode looked surprise. Then he guffawed, "Grandma!"  He then turned to me and asked, "Which Grandma is it, the brown-haired Grandma or the white-haired Grandma?"

You guys. This question made me so happy.

The fact that he remembered my mom having brown hair*! He hasn't seen her in forever. And honestly, I have not talked about my mom in the last couple of years since she died.  It's too hard. When you have kids, I've discovered, you really want your parents to enjoy their grandchildren. And, you want your kids to enjoy their grandparents.  The fact that my children will never know my parents is something I will always regret.

Bode remembered that he has a brown-haired grandma. It makes me so happy. And one day, I'll be able to talk to him about my mom and tell him all about her.

Thank you, Bode, for taking a sad moment and turning it into a happy one.

And to our brown-haired Grandma: we love you.

Happy Monday, all.
xo

*as my sibs know, my mom didn't really have brown hair...but the color is close in Bode's eyes.

Over the river and through the woods

It feels like we are on one long journey these days, each a baby step. But we are getting there.  Here are a few photos from Thanksgiving, our packing days, and a nod to Christmas:

Andrew was such a sweetheart with Nico!

Driving to Grandma's (Dawn's)

The moving truck arrived in all its huge-ness.  The movers were great about packing quickly. It was almost too quick. It was hard for RWF and I to keep track of everything going on. And despite some written and verbal requests, some of our "save" pile got packed anyway.  Gianna's dolls, story books (except for a couple of random ones that happened to be in the car), and other stuff "needed" for our move was packed up before I even realized what was missing.

Bode and Gianna have been very emotional since the truck took our stuff away.  They are doing the best they can.  I'm taking the advice my brother gave me, trying to treat everything as an adventure.  We have made spontaneous trips to the store for bagels, helium-filled balloons, crayons, and to Starbuck's for treats galore.  When we happen to be out at dusk, I'll take a detour into a neighborhood that twinkles with Christmas lights.  

And that brings us to Christmas.  I obviously can not (or choose not to) decorate for Christmas.  We have been listening to Christmas music and driving around to see holiday lights.  On Thursday, when I picked Bode up from school, his teacher Miss Lynn reminded Bode to pick up his "special surprise."  And while he was under a set of stairs getting his surprise for me, Miss explained that Bode had found this "surprise" on their walk that morning and  had very carefully walked the whole way back to the school house, carrying this "surprise" in his arms.  She said that it took him a long time but he was determined to bring the "surprise" back with him.  When Bode emerged from the stairs, he held a branch from a pine tree. "Oh Bode, how wonderful!" I said.  I thought it was just another one of his sticks that he likes to bring home.  But he told me that he wanted us to have Christmas at our house, so he brought us this "tree" as a surprise.  He suggested that we decorate it and then it will be "Christmas in our house."  Well you can imagine how this made me feel (sad!).  I gave him a hug and told him that I loved his surprise, that it was so thoughtful of him to bring Christmas to our house. And when we got home, I insisted on taking this photo:

And of course, it wouldn't be Christmas without new Christmas pajamas!  Poor Nico doesn't have any yet.  I couldn't find any in his size that I like.

We are trying to maintain normalcy around here as much as we can with all of our "stuff" gone.  We are keeping routines, like school, gymnastics, and swimming for Bode and Gianna, and bedtime stories for all.

This is our last week here.  I have a million and one things to do, and yet really, nothing to do.  The contents of our life are on their way to Portland.  All I have to do is say goodbye this week.  It is not as easy as it sounds. Bode and Gianna have one last week of school. We will gift our teachers, our vet, and our baby sitter, saying thank you for making our lives better here. And then we will say goodbye one last time.

Goodbye, goodbye. 

xo

Moving

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving with our New York family...who will soon really be just our family living in New York...as we will not be....

Okay. See the above ramble? Does this make any sense? This is how I've been talking lately:  wildly long-winded, confusing, fragmented, emotional/dramatic.

We are moving.

There. I said it.

It has been so difficult to talk about the move.  When I 'fessed up to Bode and Gianna's teachers over a month ago (yes), I rambled so much that Bode's teacher looked completely perplexed.  And when I  (finally) finished my long winded narrative with the simple, declarative, "We are moving,"  she actually looked relieved, like, "Oh! Finally! I understand!"  With Gianna's teacher, I walked up to her and couldn't even speak. She could see the emotions all over my face. Luckily, Miss Amy is a dear one, and treated me much  like her 3 year old charges. She gave me a big hug, sat me down on a nearby bench, and told me to tell her everything.  I told her everything,  tears brimming, while she nodded sympathetically and rubbed my back. We both cried.

Sigh.

There is so much I have come to love about here, that I am going to miss so much.

And everything is just moving so fast.  

I have had a really difficult time talking about it (see above).

Today, the movers came and packed up our house in record time.  They arrived at 7:30 and left at 1:30.  They still have a lot to do, but they got the majority of our precious life belongings stuff boxed up and ready to go.  Tomorrow, they will  return to find that I have opened 3 boxes, removed the contents of 2 boxes, and have added a considerable amount of stuff, in piles, to be boxed (things I thought I'd donate/toss, but emotion prevailed).

Since we have begun this move discussion with the children, we have made a conscious effort to be very slow, very forgiving, very informative about life these days, what we are doing and what is happening (and not happening).  But today, when they came home and saw our walls lined with boxes, it must have overwhelmed them. Oh, so this is what it means, I can imagine them thinking. But what can they understand, really? We've tried to talk about things from moving our stuff in a big truck to flying in an airplane. But they won't get it all ("moving") in one piece. It will be a long process for them. So we are trying to take it slowly and explain everything. Sometimes we have to have the same  Q&A each time we do something. But that's okay. I can't imagine how this must seem to them, when I am so emotional and confused myself.

This afternoon, Gianna was incredibly screechy and moved to tears over seemingly random things.  Bode, since Thanksgiving, has been very quiet, off to himself, but then also squishy about hugs and love. He will announce, "I want a hug," and come over to me for one.  

This morning, Bode asked me what he was made of and I drew a blank. "Um,  you're made of...Bode." I answered as I buttered his toast, and thought about the million-and-one things I needed to do before the movers arrived.  "I don't want to be made of Bode!" he sputtered. "I want to be made of love!"  I dropped the knife and ran over to him, "Oh honey, of course you are! You are, you are, you are! You are made of love! Absolutely!" We hugged, sitting on the kitchen floor for a long time while I repeated, "You ARE made of love. You are, you are..." When he was convinced of my answer, he asked me what love is made of.  I told him that it is a golden, twinkly light that shines all around us and lives in us. "Is it weak, or is it strong?" he asked.  I thought about this, and then answered, "It is gentle, like when you are sad and you get a hug. It is soft, like when you are sleepy and cozy in your bed."  Then I thought of my mom and a recent dream I had, and added, "But it is also strong. So strong that you feel like it could knock you down. It is like a waterfall, just pouring over you."

I have to remember to love these babies, love RWF, and love myself through this.

The deets:

We are moving to Portland, Oregon.

We are moving soon.

We have a rental house.

We have a school. 

We are excited, nervous, hopeful and...sad. 

More details later.
Happy week to all.
xo

Meet my friends, Peanut Butter and Chocolate

What a long weekend! I hate to complain but my god these children really wore me out! They had so.much.energy.  and I was so tired, impatient and cranky.  Good times!

Let me just go ahead and confess two things:  my children watched television and we all ate chocolate!

It started innocently enough..."Mommy" needed some breathing room so I resorted to TV. I put on a Christmas cartoon for the children while I checked the mail. Then I started browsing a magazine I got in the mail. And then,  I found a recipe for chocolate peanut butter truffles in one of RWF's magazines, of all places!  

Right about that time, I needed chocolate like an alcoholic needs a drink.  It was a bad craving that would not be ignored.  My head was pounding out a beat to, "choc.o.late. choc.o.late. choc.o.late." The recipe required chocolate, peanut butter, butter, sugar and a little bit of time. It sounded like an easy fix.

It is my humble opinion that peanut butter and chocolate are one of the greatest combinations of all time.

I turned off the TV. The children stopped grumbling once I announced that we would be making something. Bode and Gianna helped by mixing the butter, peanut butter and sugar together while I melted the chocolate.  I rolled the peanut butter mixture into (healthy sized) balls and then rolled them again in the melted chocolate.  It was very messy. ("You need to wash your hands, Mommy" Gianna admonished several times during my creation time.) It was soooo worth it.  And guess what? I ate them all (well, Gianna and Bode were given a small bite to taste).  They were delicious! And dare I say, I think I deserved them.  They helped me through a decidedly rough weekend. And, I'm already thinking about making them again.  I guess they were a little too easy to make (and consume). But how awesome would it be to have these yummies hanging out in my fridge all the time, for when life gets rough?

BFF, man.

I don't have any pics of the chocolate peanut butter truffles (because I ate them allllllll!). But here is a pic of a happy baby consuming a waffle:

And here is a pic of a happy baby driving his new car:

Here is a pic of a happy girl loving HopHop:

And here is a pic of a happy boy striking a (super hero) pose:

Bode is so funny. He saw me with my camera and said, "Take a picture of me, I'm a super hero!" and immediately got into this pose.

Happy Monday, friends.
xo

First and last

Goodbye, Exersaucer. You've been good to us!

I'm purging and saying goodbye to a lot of baby stuff.  Every time Nico reaches a milestone, and every time he moves on from a toy or baby gear, I have to say goodbye to this time in our life. It is  his first milestone, it is my last.

Goodbye, baby swing. Thanks for all the sleep!

It makes me sad, knowing that we will never need the Tiny Gym, the swing, or this table:

All of our babies used this table to learn to stand (and play).  I can sing along to every song that plays from this table. It brings back memories of when Bode was a baby and it even brings back feelings I had when Bode was a baby.

Goodbye, baby bath. It's been fun.

I started crying and gnashing my teeth over letting go of this silly table.

RWF was the one that suggested that I document this table with all of our babies around it. Of course, none of the babies cooperated (except for Nico, my smiley guy).  "Oh here goes Mommy, crying again. Let's ignore her. Again."

Goodbye, table. We love you!

You can't even tell from this photo how Bode and Gianna tower over it, but tower they do.  I know it's time to say goodbye to the table. I know another baby will benefit greatly from it.

It's time to let go and move on.  No looking back.

Well, except for pictures like these.
xo

Growing, growing...

February 2012

Bode is a big boy. I have to remind myself of this all the time. Every day is a challenge. I still see him as a little guy. I don't understand when he contradicts me or doesn't want to do as I say. Who is this big boy with a mind of his own? Who is this big boy who wants to do everything by himself?

Thursday morning, Bode put on a pair of pants and they were high-waters.  I laughed and laughed.  He looked at me, puzzled.  I felt bad and then explained that he had a growth spurt.  I then had to explain a "growth spurt" in a non-frightening way. I also had him try on some other pants just to make sure and yeah, he's bigger.  He is now in a size 6.  Yikes.  I can't keep up. 

Yesterday he went to a birthday party for a school friend. Rylan has been a good friend to Bode since starting Kindergarten together.  They've had play dates, and share similar interests (space! Cars! etc.). Rylan is such a gentle, sweet boy and I am happy that they are friends. Rylan is always looking for Bode, shouting, "Bode! I'm so glad that you're here!" Some of the other boys in Kindergarten are very rough & tumble, and I can see the "mean-spiritedness" or should I say, "mischievousness," coming out in them already.  So I am enjoying this sweet friend of Bode's. Yesterday's party was wonderful, the perfect testament that Rylan is indeed a loving friend who has a wonderful, nurturing family. And I so enjoyed being a witness to it, to watching Bode as he took it all in, quietly, hand-in-hand with his friend Rylan.

This morning, I went through Bode's closet with him, having him try on clothes.  I sorted the clothes into two piles: clothes he can still wear and clothes to put away for Nico.  Every time  he changed out of a pair of try-ons, I'd tickle him.  I made him laugh so hard while he squirmed around on the floor.  I tickled him on purpose, to capture another (precious) moment of just me and my "little" boy...the one who still wants to be tickled by his mommy...for right now, at least.

xo

First: Lost tooth

I knew that the Halloween candy was going to ruin my children's teeth!  Just kidding.  Today, while I was busy cleaning out a closet, Bode and Gianna were entertaining themselves.  After I put Gianna down for a nap, I was hanging out with Nico and Bode.  Bode started telling me something when I spied something reddish brown in his mouth.  Or, rather, the absence of something white in his mouth.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR TOOTH?" I demanded.

His hand went up to his mouth. He had no idea what I was talking about. I peered inside his mouth.  There was a gaping hole where there once was a tooth.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" I demanded again, as my heart began fluttering in my chest.

"Nothing! What's wrong? Is my tooth gone?" Bode started to cry, big tears appearing on his cheeks.

I quickly changed tactics. Smiling, I tried to hide my nervousness. "Nothing's wrong," I replied. "It's just that your tooth is missing."

"Oh, no!" he wailed and started crying anew.

I wanted to cry, too.  I asked him what he was doing earlier and if he remembered losing his tooth. I did a mental checklist of everything I had seen him eat that morning. He told me that he didn't remember losing his tooth. He gave me a vague story of him and Gianna wrestling with the ladybug.  He may have had the ladybug in his mouth while Gianna had the ladybug in her hand, he explained. 

Oh. My. Gawd.

By this time, my heart was doing some kind of Martha Graham inspired dance in my chest.  I didn't know what to do. I ran upstairs and into Bode's room.  I searched around on my hands and knees. And then I spied something small and white by his door.

His tooth.

His precious baby tooth.

It is small, white and has a roundish hole in the bottom of it, where I suppose the root was living at one time.

If it were any smaller and had been lost in the kitchen, I would have dismissed it as a grain of rice.

I texted RWF. I didn't know what to do. I cupped Bode's tiny tooth in my hand and went back downstairs.  I saw RWF pull into our driveway and I ran outside.

Without turning off the car's engine, RWF asked me what was wrong.  I told him that Bode had lost a tooth. We talked about what to do.  Bode seemed emotional, so we opted to be cheerful and positive about his lost tooth.

He wasn't too keen on posing for the camera and finally did open wide!

I went back inside and called a dentist friend while RWF talked to Bode. My dentist friend explained that there was really nothing to do.  I found an empty jewelry box and, returning to Bode, I  announced that we'd keep the tooth in the box.  RWF and I had a whispered mini conference about the Tooth Fairy. We decided the Tooth Fairy was the positive spin we needed for this story. So we told Bode about the Tooth Fairy and he gave us a disbelieving laugh.   This is characteristic for Bode. He has already told me that the Switch Witch can't be real. He has doubts about the Tooth Fairy, too. (I wish he wasn't such a realist.)

He talks with a "ssll" or "sshh" sound right now. And I'm having to force myself not to overreact every time I see the gap where there once was a tooth. I have felt anxious and sad all afternoon. And yes, all over a lost tooth. But maybe it's not about the tooth. I went through closets and boxes today and finally, finally (finally!) purged Gianna's and Nico's baby clothes. Maybe it's not about the tooth at all. Maybe this is about how nothing ever stays the same. 

I hate surprises.

Happy Saturday.
xo

Halloween

3...2...1...

Cinderelly

Bode and Gianna had their very first experience trick-or-treating last night.

The babies were quiet with anticipation as we drove to a nearby neighborhood.  On the drive over, I explained to them how houses are either lit up for Halloween, or they are dark, depending on whether the people in the house wish to give out candy.  It was pouring down rain and windy.  We had a full day of school, doctor appointments, and other errands. We were driving home from the pediatrician at 5:30, and all I wanted to do was put everyone to bed.  Instead, we raced home, ate a quick bite and then headed out again (because I had promised Bode and Gianna we would trick-or-treat!).

At just 6 PM, it was so dark and heavy rain splashed down on our windshield, making it so hard for me to see.  I parked at the first decorated, fully lit house we saw.  At first, I thought I'd keep Nico in the car and just go to the one house.  But as I was about to walk up to the house, I saw other houses were lit up close by.  So I got the stroller out, and put Nico in.  I had to call Gianna back, because she was already making the walk up to the house.  A group of teenage (?) boys, all in black and with no discernible costume among them, was crowding the porch.  "Let's let them go first," I cautioned. Within seconds, the boys were trotting off, but then they slowed to a stop in front of Bode.

"Whoah. That is so cool."

"Do you see his costume? He's an astronaut!"

"Check out his helmet!"

"You've got the coolest costume ever!"

These were genuine compliments. "Thank you," came Bode's muffled reply. (He insisted on keeping the visor down!)

Gianna then took off boldly, plastic pumpkin out in front of her, in search of the candy. I watched as she put her hand up to steady her crown as she stepped up to the porch.  Only then did she turn back to see if we were behind her.

Two girls answered the door and deposited a handful of candy in each pumpkin.  Two heads bent down to look inside their pumpkins and each baby said, "Thank you!" and then slowly shuffled down the path, eyeing their candy the whole time.

The next house had a single porch light, and not a single Halloween decoration on display.  Gianna moved forward, but Bode hung back.

"Wait!" he wailed "There's no light on. There's nobody there!"

I gazed at the yellow porch light and then turned to Bode. "Yes, the light is on. Let's just go see."

And of course, someone answered the door and gave the children candy.

Nico was so quiet as we strolled (so slowly...) through the rain.  Gianna was looking a bit tired, if not bedraggled, by her rainy pilgrimage for candy. At one point, she stepped on the train of her dress and there was an audible rip.  There was a pause, and then she said, "That's okay." The rain was coming down sideways, so my umbrella was not much use to Nico, or any of us. I felt like such a jerk, dragging my baby through the rain-filled street.  I told myself that we would visit 4 houses total, and no more.

I think that the babies would have easily continued trick-or-treating, if I had not suggested that we go home and watch the traditional Charlie Brown cartoon.

Post-trick-or-treat

We got home, changed immediately into warm jammies and watched a show.  They got 1 piece of candy to eat, after I had searched the contents of their pumpkins. Curious to know what each child picked? Gianna picked peanut M&Ms. Bode picked a Twix.  The rest of the candy (8 pieces total, each) was put back into their pumpkins and up on the counter. 

It was a successful, soaking wet, trick or treating adventure.  They both woke up this morning and put on their costumes. Today, I'm going to propose that they leave their candy out for the Switch Witch. I hope that it works...I'm craving chocolate!

This month has been the worst.  It has been full of ups, downs, worry, heartache and hurts. I usually love October and Halloween, but this year, I'm ready to say goodbye.

Happy November...let's hope that it's better this month.

xo

Nico: 13 months

Dear Nico,

Two nights ago, while I was getting your brother and sister ready for bed, you stood up and walked 5 steps.  Nobody was paying attention, but I just happen to look over at you when I saw you rise up on your feet. I was standing in the doorway and I watched you take these first 5 steps. And then you plopped down on your bottom. You looked over and we smiled at each other. I walked over to you and gave you a big hug and asked you to do it again.  I stood you up about an arm's length away. And you walked toward me, smiling the whole time.  You fell into my arms and I squeezed you so hard. I was so happy for you. The way you let me squeeze you told me that you were pretty proud of yourself, too. 

Yesterday, I was in the office paying a bill when I heard a slap-slap-slap.  You yelled, "AAANNH!" Slap-slap-slap.   I walked out to investigate. You were on top of the stairs, slapping the floor and yelling "AAANNH!" You looked at me and slapped the floor. You wanted to know how to get down.  I ran (soooo fast) up the stairs and told you that you would not be learning to climb down the stairs any time soon.  And I told myself that I would not be leaving you alone anymore, either. 

You are drinking almond milk from a bottle, and water from a sippy cup.  This has not been an easy transition. Someone suggested that I skip the bottle completely and go straight to the sippy cup. But after thinking about it, and consulting some of our family "experts," we stuck with a bottle. It seems to be working out. Hopefully this dairy allergy will go away, because I miss cheese!!!  And I'd hate for you to miss out on eating cheese one day, too. Already your diet is pretty basic and bland.Without the "dairy" group, I'm kind of at a loss as to what to feed you most days.

You are sounding out "words," in Nico-speak.  You seem to know "bye bye," "bath," "Gianna," and "out" or at least I seem to know what you mean when you are babbling.

You love hanging outside with your brother and sister.  You are by far the fastest in the developmental milestones. And we know this is because of Bode and Gianna. You can't wait to be a part of their play.

Sleep has been difficult this past month. You're getting your top two teeth in at the same time.  You've also been sick with a snotty nose-cough-cold. No fun for a little baby like you!  I try to enjoy the quiet hours with you in the middle of the night. But I would love to see you sleeping through the night, too.

You are now 13 months.  And you are every bit a good baby as you were on the day you were born.  Thank you for the love and smiles, Nico. You are such a joy.

Love,

Mommy

xo

Follow up, and a Jack-o-lantern

I need to clarify what I wrote about in my previous post. I hinted about Depression and Bad Mothering.  I am okay. I don't think that I've kept my "down" days too hidden, but maybe have not written what exactly gets me down on those "down" days.  And of course, I haven't written about my bad mothering days.  I may have alluded to frustration or exhaustion on those days. It's hard to write about these things because this is a very public space.  I am a very private person. While I want to share my life, especially life with my children, I don't want to dwell too much on the negative. Dwelling on the negative, or writing about a particular "down" "bad mothering" day can color the way people view me. And it's just a tiny slice of life, not the whole picture. Writing about my feelings makes me vulnerable and opens up possible criticism.  I get pretty snarly when people insert their opinions (when I didn't ask for them). 

Then again, I don't want to paint a picture of this glorious stress-free, crafty-fun, all-is-groovy life. I don't want to gloss over the bad stuff. So I have to figure out how to write about certain things, and to balance the good and the bad (because there is bad). I will post the mundane details, the photos of my children with uncombed hair and mismatched clothes. One of my biggest irks is the blogs (and oh my gawd there are so many of them!) where the pictures are so perfectly coordinated (not authentic) and the daily life posts are so unreal, that they may as well be writing about flying unicorns and rainbows. It has become a big source of irritation and I'm slowly learning to not read these blogs. I hiss, Get real! Maybe that should become my new mantra.

My original intent in keeping this blog was to keep distant family connected. At the time, we were living in California with two babies while our families were in Texas and New York.  Our families naturally wanted to know about the milestones and see the pictures of the babies. I was happy to oblige, as a new mother I loved nothing more than writing out every single detail and capturing every single moment with my camera.

Now, I write for the families but also for my children. I have so many questions about my childhood and about my family (of origin).  My parents probably wouldn't remember everything I have questions about - and now that I'm a mom to three, I certainly understand how everything just sort of smushes together. So I try to write about things that my children will like to know about their young lives. And post pictures of everyone so that they have visual memories as well.

Down days? Yes. Bad mothering? Unfortunately, yes.  Details?  Maybe. Another time.

Now onto my flying unicorns part of the post.  Yesterday we carved a pumpkin.  It was the first time in my adult life that I've carved a pumpkin by myself. I think in years past, I always let the "guy" in my life (dad, boyfriend, husband) have the knife. Well NO MORE! And let me tell you, I felt pretty powerful wielding that knife and sticking it into "Pumpkin FIRE!" (as Bode named our Jack-o-lantern).

For me, picking out a pumpkin is all about the stem!

First, I let the babies pick out which pumpkin they wanted to carve (we have 5).  Then, I let them dictate what kind of face they wanted by asking them questions, like I was a police sketch artist:  Does the pumpkin have big round eyes, or triangles?  Does the pumpkin have a nose? Is it a square? Is the pumpkin smiling, or is he sad? etc.  They described the pumpkin's features easily.

Bode is singing loudly about PUMPKIN FIRE!

Then it was time to carve. Oh boy. Where to start?  

Meanwhile, Bode and Gianna had quickly lost interest and had started chasing each other around the yard.  I got immersed in carving. Then I looked down to see Nico had discovered the pumpkin guts in a bowl. Thankfully, he wasn't eating anything.

And there you have it:

Oh, and as I was narrating about how to commence carving, Bode pipes up with, "Yeah, you have to scoop out the seeds. After you scoop out the seeds, you need to clean them and let them dry. And then you roast them and eat them!"  I said, "Wait a minute. Have you done this before?"  And he said (casually), "Yeah, we carved pumpkins at my school last week."  

Damn.

Ooops! I mean, "Why, those energetic teachers! How nice of them to spread holiday cheer!"

I have to admit I was a bit defeated when Bode admitted that he had already carved pumpkins and roasted the seeds (over a campfire, no doubt!) at school. Oh well. He did like it when I lit a candle in the pumpkin.  And our pumpkin seeds are drying out on the counter, waiting to be roasted.

Happy Monday.

xo

Knock, knock

I think I've kept my feelings undercover here. But I must confess I have been down for so long. And I have been a terrible mother this past year because of my mood(s). This week, despite a solid month of sleep deprivation (!), I have felt joy around my children. It's hard to explain (and embarrassing) to admit that I've been down, when I have these wonderful babies to live with and love. But I have not been myself. But recently, I have gotten glimpses of my old self and how I used to just enjoy simply "being" with my children. I have felt lighter, more present, and more playful. The fog lifted a little this week, and it made me so happy and thankful!

Who's there? Mr. Funny Guy, that's who.

Kindergarten has opened a lot of doors for Bode...physically (he's soooo active and physical) and emotionally (he is needy/tearful...perhaps it's hard for him, this stretching to be a big boy at school, so when he comes home, he needs extra love and attention?).  And, he is just funny! This morning, he decided he was a volcano as he dressed into a t-shirt ("I'm....erupting!" he shouted as he pushed his head through the neck hole). He has also discovered knock-knock jokes. It started this morning at breakfast, when he announced, "Knock-knock..." And when I asked, "who's there?" he was so delighted! "How did you know!" he demanded, surprised that I knew this joke. All through breakfast, we exchanged knock-knock jokes. It made us both happy, as if we were speaking a secret language. BTW, I was worried about knowing knock-knock jokes, and immediately reached for my phone to Google "knock-knock jokes for 5 year olds" but stopped and made up my own. As I suspected, no, they don't need to make any sense right now for Bode to laugh.

Pumpkin

Gianna is a combination of absolute sweet-babyness and absolute sass...which I guess is pretty normal for a 3 year old?  She is so excited for Halloween. We have her costume all set. Spoiler alert: store-bought and completely unoriginal (but she is thrilled). I hope (fingers crossed) that we can go trick-or-treating this year. It seems like something always happens to prevent the fun!  Gianna is loving the word, "No" lately and I'm having to curtail my automatic Mother-is-always-right response of "What did you say?"  I have learned that with her, it is sometimes better to just let her say "No," and work around it.  She is having a lot of fun at  school. She enjoys her girlfriends, Ava, Ann-Sophie, and Katie. She sees Ann-Sophie at gymnastics, too, so they have a closer relationship. I am amazed at how "girly" Gianna is, and how it is just...innate. She loves dressing up, all things pink, and her babies. She has also taken more interest in Nico, wanting to feed him, give him his baba, and giving him hugs.

No sleep, but who can resist this face?

Nico is doing good, despite a horrible, erratic sleep "schedule" (or no "schedule" really), teething, and challenges with dairy (that I wrote about earlier). We are now giving him almond milk, on the advice of a nurse. The goat milk was just not getting drunk. He was drinking 2-4 oz a day. He is supposed to be drinking 16-24 oz a day! So I was starting to panic, thinking he was becoming malnourished. The nurse assured me that he was not malnourished but suggested that we try almond milk. Almond milk is sweeter, and Nico is now drinking 10 oz a day. He is still not really taking a bottle or sippy cup. Baby steps! All I can do is offer and then smile, when he violently throws the baba to the ground. I have found the easiest way to get him to drink is to give it to him while we are in the car. Maybe the reclined position of the car seat and lack of anything better to do helps? He  is teething, and he is sick, so sleep has been in small increments. It is maddening, but I just remind myself that he is not feeling good. Still, it is so hard for me to get up 2-3times a night, and then be up by 7 am and be pleasant to the rest of my family! As my friend Kristi reminded me, sleep deprivation is a form of torture.  (amen!) 

Yesterday, in a fit of good cheer, I proposed that we make pumpkin bread.  We actually looked around and found a recipe for pumpkin chocolate chip muffins that sounded yummy. So we made that (and a big mess...but it was worth it).  It has been a long time since I baked with my babies. We had fun.  I didn't mind when they skeedaddled, leaving me to clean up the batter dripped on the counter and the flour over everything. The pumpkin chocolate chip muffins are delicious! I highly recommend them, especially with a strong cup of coffee (obviously not the coffee for the babies). 

After a lame dinner of chicken breasts, steamed rice and broccoli, it was time for swimming. I was so nervous because it was going to be my first time taking all 3 babies out at night, to the Y so that Bode and Gianna could take their swim lessons.  I got everyone into the car on time and then I went up to the door to grab my jacket and hit the garage door opener.  The garage door started opening with a long, high pitched squeal....and then it stopped halfway.  I hit it again. The garage door went down. I hit again. The garage door squealed its high pitched noise and stopped halfway again.  I did this a few more times.  What is the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result.  Well finally, Bode yelled from the backseat, "Mom! I know what you can do! You can call somebody!"  Hmm. Great idea, Bode. But really, there was nobody to call.  I stood there and hit the button one more time. No go, joe.  So I walked down to the car and admitted defeat. I sadly told them that we would not make it to swimming tonight. I was worried, because they love swimming with a passion, and looked forward to it all day.  But they were okay. They got out of the car easily enough (well, after I promised that they could watch a show in lieu of swimming).   So we were stuck at home last night.  So, another issue to deal with tomorrow....

I am happy that it is the weekend. RWF and I have a date afternoon planned (though I would love to take the 3 hours for a sitter and use it for just sleeping!), and hopefully we will carve pumpkins.

Happy weekend.

xo

Perspective

Life has been so crazy lately.  I keep thinking, "This is my life," when I get discouraged about the constant running around, meal prep, messiness, the teething, etc.  And then I think, "This is not my life," when I get discouraged about the constant running around, meal prep, messiness, the teething, etc. It just depends on my mood, I guess. I have not been getting a lot of sleep lately. Nico has had a full month of erratic sleep (waking all hours, teething, sick, etc.). And then there is the usual business of life and all its fun stuff thrown our way...some of which, I won't even address here. So usually by Thursday, I'm in tears.

My constant refrain has  been, "I'm so tired."  The other night, when RWF asked me how I was, I started to say, "I'm so (tired)..." but before I could finish, he started laughing. He said that if I were a Chatty Cathy doll and you pulled my string, I would whine, "I'm so tired!" or "I don't know what to make for dinner!" or "Nico is not sleeping!"  He was laughing but I wasn't. I know that he is trying to make light of our situation. But it really made me stop and think.

I need to change myself. I need to stop focusing on my lack of sleep and make the most of what sleep I do get. I need to be happy that we are healthy. I need to be happy that we are all together.

It's all perspective, right?

So here is where we are at:

Nico tried milk a couple of weeks ago.  BIG MISTAKE.  He was so miserable, constantly crying (so unlike him), arching his back (gassy), diarrhea (TMI, sorry) and no sleep. It was awful (understatement).  And now, we're trying goat's milk which is much better. But he doesn't want to drink from a bottle or a sippy cup. I think the dairy may have scarred him for life. I hope not. 

The thing is, I am so ready to wean Nico. So his resistance to all bottles and sippy cups is very discouraging for me. That, and the fact that he is getting up 2-3 times a night is downright frustrating. This will pass...right?

He is happier now that the dairy has left  his system. He continues to stand and now walks with the aid of his toys.  

He is also currently teething.  Two top teeth are breaking in.

Priscilla had a biopsy on 2 separate areas of her body a couple of weeks ago. Luckily it all came back benign.   We have a wonderful vet. She even gave P a holiday bandage, which I loved (even though my heart breaks thinking about P in pain):

Bode and Gianna continue to do well in school.  Gianna loves dressing up for school (and carrying her Hello Kitty purse everywhere!).  Bode continues to not care about clothes but lives and breathes for the times he can play with his cars and planes!

They have even learned some simple spelling (just kidding!):

RWF rode a century last weekend!

All is well, all is well....

Happy week.

xo