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