Less is more, and more is more

a recent impromptu picnic on a hike, a time that I remember feeling happy and not stressed!

Things have been incredibly busy around here.  Crazy-busy.  The kind of busy that makes me want to shout, "Stop! I want to get off this ride!"  Our family has been humming along, but I  (we) have felt the effects of too much.  Too much activity, too much stress, too much...of everything.

For the children, I've cut all activities except school (ha!) and swimming.  This swimming session ends in a few weeks, and I'm going to cut swim lessons to 1 time per week.  The children enjoy being active but I can tell that they are tired.  Bode is now 6, and I worry about how life is going to speed up for him, once he hits "real" elementary school. I want to keep things simple for him, for Gianna, and for Nico, for as long as I can.

For me, I am tired of feeling tired.  My most common feeling, and my constant lament, is "I'm so tired."  I'm tired of being such a drag, and feeling like I'm...dragging.  I have yet to make a doctor's appointment for a check-up, but I will soon. I think things are catching up with me, again.  It's difficult to move and go through the motions of moving.  I think I go through the motions because I "have to" and then as a result, 6 months or so later, I crash and the effects of everything hit me. I'm finally starting to feel like we "live" here, and starting to imagine what that means for all of us, and what I want our life to "be" here.  I am also carrying my mother around, dragging her death behind me.  After my mom died, I went to a therapist, carrying baby Nico into the office with me each week. I didn't think I could continue seeing her, the therapist, because of everything else that was going on.  I remember telling her that I had too much going on, both physically and mentally.  I'll never forget her words: "You need to deal with this now, or it's going to come out later, in other ways."  I shrugged it off at the time.  But what she said was so true.  It keeps happening: anger, sadness, etc. Yesterday I was laughing my head off with RWF about something, and an image of my mother's memorial popped into my head, and I started crying uncontrollably.  "Why are you crying?" RWF asked, surprised at my abrupt swing. And I had to tell him that I thought of my mom (I didn't share the image).  Did he understand? Probably not.  I'm not being authentic, not to myself and not to anyone in my family.  I need to deal. Grief is the worst.

  

We (RWF and I) have been under a great deal of stress about our living situation (i.e., the house).  We have been struggling to find a house for our family.  I've been unhappy where we are at, but it might just be the place to stay. This subject's a bore, so I won't go into the details. It's something that we need to resolve.  There are other, more personal stressors involved, too.

That is one, and other, reasons I have not been updating the blog. It is the same (boring) issues and stressors.  Thankfully, the children are doing great, and growing like crazy in all kinds of ways. I need to get back to recording their personalities and funnies.  As far as the 52 project...I have been taking pictures weekly, but I have not been uploading them here. I cringe at the idea of trying to back-date all the photos in order. 

We are making some changes around here.  Hopefully, with the subtraction of some things, and the addition of some other things, life will be a bit more manageable. I hope to be back to recording our lives soon.

Happy weekend to you.
xo

Keeping the summer (standards) bar low

Hello, August!  I can not believe that we are already in August, and that school is a month away!  I find myself pulling back, thinking of all the things I still want to do with the children while they are home.  We made a summer list at the start of the season, and we have only ticked off a couple of items.  Hopefully my summer laziness will end, and I will kick it in high gear so that we can have some fun times before the school routine starts. 

We have had such high temps lately (90s) and with no A/C, I wilt around high Noon.  In the morning, we have a leisurely breakfast, which involves a lot of coloring in between bites.  Then we go out, sometimes for a walk, or to a park but usually to the store for things we need.  Then, the afternoon lazies begin. Gianna has dropped her afternoon naps.  Bode hasn't napped for a couple of years.  So that leaves just 1 child napping in the afternoon.   I have gotten into a really lazy, really horrible habit of turning on the TV and letting Bode and Gianna watch a show every afternoon.  I usually nap beside them, or surf the internet.  It is just a poor excuse of time.  I also find that Bode and Gianna are usually whiney and irritable after watching 2 shows. They whine to watch more shows. "Just one more!" is what I hear as soon as I grab the remote. When the TV goes off, the crying starts.  I don't know what happens but I do know that TV viewing is just not a good thing!  So this week, I resolve: NO MORE TV.   

I did buy a tiny inflatable pool for the children.  They love it.  Bode and Gianna will get in and splash around for hours. (I won't put Nico in there because...I'm paranoid. I don't trust myself not to turn my back for a second. Nothing has ever happened in the bath or otherwise, but I don't want anything to happen..if you know what I mean.) I usually just sit in a lawn chair and watch Bode and Gianna jump in and out of the pool.  I will use the bubble wand for Nico, who just loves chasing bubbles, or squeals with delight when he is surrounded by bubbles.  Nico also loves playing soccer, as he is our most "sporty" child yet.

I have not been very productive this summer. What is my excuse?  I just feel so tired all of the time! That is my only reason. And maybe I am the tiniest bit intimidated with the 3:1 ratio, especially in large spaces, like museums, where one could get lost.

A part of me wants to keep things simple (walks, bubbles and a wading pool) and then the other part of me screams, "Do more! Get out! Show them the world!" etc.  I think that while they are all little, I think things should stay simple for as long as possible. (Yes?) 

xo

Stranger danger

Do you remember the caution, "Stranger danger!" that was stressed in the 80s?  I think it was the 80s. I know I had a few nieces at that time, and I remember one of my sisters being incredibly paranoid about child abduction.  That doesn't  sound fair: paranoid about something serious like child abduction.  But I remember thinking she was...a little zealous about teaching her child all the dangers out there.   I was a young aunt and had zero children at the time, and had absolutely no idea how your whole heart and mind change once you have a child.  I had no idea how fear of everything what-if can become your whole line of thinking when you have a child. 

I have always been pretty calm (I think?) about stuff like "stranger danger" with my children. It's probably because I'm always with my children.  (And before I continue, I do understand that this type of thinking is not a preventative or the 'right' way to think!)  The only time I had an absolute tear-producing, fearful situation was when we "lost" Gianna at the Farmer's Market in Saratoga Springs for about 5 minutes. And I think I pretty much forgot about that 10 minutes after we found her. 

I had an interesting "lesson"  recently.  We went to Bode's 6 year well-check a couple of weeks ago.  His pediatrician examined him, asked me questions about his eating habits, his sleep habits and such.  And then she looked at me and said, "Now I'm going to ask Bode some questions."  She turned her attention fully to Bode, and kind of blocked me from his view with her body, and began to present different scenarios to him.  I could see him but he couldn't really see me without leaning and looking around the pediatrician.

The firs scenario she told him about was a 'nice' lady pulls up in our driveway while he is outside playing. The nice lady rolls down her window and asks Bode if he would like some candy. She says that she has a big bag of candy to give him if he'll get into her car.  The pediatrician asked, "Would you get into her car for the candy?"  

It took Bode a loooong time to think about this situation. Finally, after what seemed like several minutes, he answered, "No."

(Phew.)

The next scenario was we are at home and I am taking a shower. Before I get in the shower,  I tell Bode and Gianna not to bother me while I am showering ("Mommy is tired and wants to be alone.").  Someone rings the doorbell and  the person wants to be let in the house.  The person says that he knows Mommy and it's okay. Does Bode let the person in the house?   

This time, he answered a little more quickly and said "No."

The most likely (and scariest) scenario, I thought, was when she told him to think that he was in a store. He was looking at toys in the store and then he realized that I  had walked off to shop for something else. He looked around but I was not there anymore.  What does Bode do if he can not find Mommy in the store?

Bode had no clue on what to do.  He just sat there thinking.  I felt my anxiety rising, as if I was watching from a distance while he was actually lost in the store, and I was behind some glass, sound-proof cage where I wanted to shout the answer to him ("I'm here! I'm here! Don't worry, I'll never leave you!").  Finally the pediatrician gave him two solutions: one was to find a mommy with a baby and ask her for help, and the other solution was to find the person working at the register.  (Honestly I found the second solution kind of confusing, because really...couldn't somebody just be standing there waiting for Bode to wander over looking for his mommy? The only store that has "official" looking uniforms are grocery stores and big box stores, and even then, colors can look like uniforms. I've often seen people in Target wearing red shirts that are not store clerks, for example).  

The pediatrician put him through a couple of more scenarios like this (what I call, "stranger danger" scenarios) and even though it took Bode a long time to think about these situations, he always answered "correctly."  

But it really made me stop and think.  He answered the questions correctly (with a lot of time to think) but what  if he was scared and panicked? Or what if he was hungry and that candy looked so good?  What would he do in a real-life situation?  Hopefully we will never have to find out.  

Before this appointment, I'd never told my children,  "don't talk to strangers" or about people being "bad" or anything like that. I've never told my children to not get into other people's cars or to not answer the door.  It just never occurred to me that I would need to.  And honestly, I don't want to because I don't like introducing those bad thoughts into their minds.  I like that they have a pretty innocent view of the world and would like to keep it that way.  (but of course, I wouldn't want to put them in danger just to shelter them from bad thoughts, either)

So after these questions, the pediatrician talked to us both about what to do in these situations. And she also gave us homework. I am to help Bode learn how (and when) to call 9-1-1, to memorize my phone number and how to tell people our address (things that he "failed" during her test).  

A couple of days after the appointment, we were at the library and Gianna found a book about talking to strangers. I thought it was a 'sign' that she had found this book and brought it to me. So I checked the book out of the library to talk about the stranger subject further. But it was....awful.  I mean I couldn't even finish some of the sentences because they were so....fear-inducing. I made up sentences as I read it (to not read the scary parts) and then I hid the book so that they wouldn't see it (and want to read it again).  But then our baby sitter came over and read the book to them. After they read the book, they both would say stuff like, "Don't talk to strangers! They are bad!"  (ugh)

I spent a few days correcting that mistake. I made a point of smiling at people ("strangers") and saying Hello to people we see out and about. I think the stranger-danger thought is corrected.  I was happy to see Bode say, "Hello, how is your day going?" to a man painting our neighbor's fence. 

I've been working with Bode on memorizing phone numbers and so far, the only thing he has learned is  9-1-1 (of course, because that is easy). But my issue is, we don't have a landline in the house. I only have my cellphone. So there is no way for him to practice dialing or even what a phone looks like! So I don't know what to do about that? I guess we should have a landline. Maybe I should have him practice my phone calling his aunts or something. Any ideas?

I've also been talking to him and Gianna about different situations and how to manage them.  I'm trying to put these "scary" situations into a more "empowering" light than "theres's a stranger at the door!" type thinking.  But it's a hard line, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation and getting the "what-to-do-if..." message across without putting fear into their heads. 

Have you talked to your children about emergency or scary situations, and do you have any good tips on making it more of an empowering situation than a scary situation?

Happy Thursday!

xo

Spring Break has sprung

Bode and Gianna are officially on Spring Break!

Truthfully, when the teachers dismissed the classes yesterday, announcing, "Happy Spring Break!" I felt kind of...sad.  And unprepared. Like, "Really? Already? Are you sure that you don't want to keep them in school for the rest of the week?"  Because I was not ready to have my two monkeys full-time for the rest of this week, and the next!

After school, we dyed Easter eggs.  I had (mistakenly) told the children that we would color Easter eggs and of course, they were beyond excited.  They were so excited that I had to commit to the activity like, immediately.  

This morning, over breakfast, we brainstormed on what to do with our Spring Break. 

Here is our list (fantastically artistic styling by yours truly). You can probably guess who chose what activity.  They actually had a fun time coming up with ideas.  I only had to nix, or modify, some of the suggestions. 

1. Buy a book (Bode)
2. Buy a dress (Gianna)

(Okay, pause for my internal thoughts:  First of all, BUY A BOOK? Why? When you get a book (or two, or three, actually)  gifted to you once a month?  Also, buy a dress?  You have a closet full of dresses and really, only wear 2 of them on repeat. Moving on:)

3. Plant seeds (Bode. We already started this, but we have more to plant.)
4. Go on a trip (Bode. I gleefully wrote this one down.)
5. Go to OMSI (me, because the forecast calls for - you guessed it! - rain! all week.)
6. Go to backyard (Bode. Eh...okay.)
7. Go to library (me, I think)
7. Paul Bunyon statue (me, all of us. I searched for suggestions on my phone and they picked this from what I read aloud.)

Are you paying attention?  TWO number 7s on the list.  This is called motherhood. This is called "Me, on no coffee, at 8 AM."

8. Zoo (Bode & Gianna. Eh. I have my own opinions about zoos. This is a big MAYBE on the list.)
9. Ice cream (Gianna)
10. Eat breakfast out (Bode)

We will see how much we get done in a week's time, especially if we go on our trip.  The children are just really, really excited about having a list! of things! to do!  Bode has been walking around with the list in his hands all morning, announcing various things to do.  Of course, it's 10 o'clock in the morning and we haven't done anything but get dressed.  The delay is due, of course, to this little dude:

I insist on keeping the nap schedule.  I want him to at least get a morning nap in before we set off.  Bode and Gianna are so anxious to leave the house (it's raining!) so I need to be able to 'get' as soon as Nico wakes up. So that means I must close this and publish.  

But first...a note on our nook table. You may have noticed that our nook table does not fit the nook. It is actually (you could probably guess) the children's table.  

I'm terribly, terribly embarrassed by this set up.  So here's the story, and it's what I tell everyone who walks into the house (whether they care to hear it or not).  When we moved in, I was determined to find a nook table immediately. That nook is actually one of the only features of the house that I like.  So one of my "alone time" activities when we moved in was searching for the perfect nook table.  I soon found out that it does not exist.  Well, I found out that it does exist. You can buy it from Pottery Barn! But...I don't want to spend Pottery Barn pricing on a nook table for a house that we are soon to move out of (I hope!).  I don't want to live here anymore. So now the nook table hunt is...well, off the table (pun!).   I am annoyed by the kid table set up but not annoyed enough to fix it. And really, the children are the only ones that sit there (a lot) so it kind of fits them (???).  So! That's the story.  That is why you see a kids table (that doesn't fit)  in a breakfast nook.  Don't you feel better now that you know? ;)

Now to take something off that Spring Break list....

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

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

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

PSA: The brothers McGee

The following is a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT for the people of Upstate New York:

Here are Cheeksy and Eyelashes McGee, two brothers that are fun, happy, charming and...dangerous.  Not a lot is known about them, but here are a few interesting tidbits about these two:

Cheeksy is the older of the two.  He is called "Cheeksy" because of his big smile. When he was a baby, he'd smile so big, all you'd see were cheeks ("Cheeksy").  He is a happy guy, and loves cars and to run around. These days, he is often seen riding his bike at full speed.  He is full of energy, and can be heard singing or shouting (happily). He is very intelligent, and will argue a point with you until he wears you down. He loves his brother, and will defend him in anything.  He calls his brother by these other names: "Neek" (rhymes with "cheek") and "Bobby Builder" (origin of this name is unknown, but Cheeksy is said to have called his brother this name since Eyelashes's birth). 

Eyelashes is the baby brother, but don't let his age fool you. This guy is quite the charmer, and can get what he wants with his smile, grunting, or yes, by batting his ultra-long eyelashes.  The eyelashes are quite disarming, because you don't see them right off.  But if he moves his head just so, BAM! there they are, and passerby are struck by the length of his blonde lashes (hence, "Eyelashes" or "Lashes").  It has been reported that when he was just 3 months old, his aunt came from Texas to meet him, and upon seeing his profile in the car, said, "All I see are eyelashes." To express his disapproval, Lashes will blow raspberries.  Eyelashes doesn't say much, but that does not stop him from taking what he wants.  He will even go as far as to cry to get what  he wants.  You have been warned!

People are warned to not engage in direct eye contact with these brothers.  If Cheeksy or Lashes starts to smile, please look away! Associating with these two brothers has resulted in loss of Goldfish crackers, sweets, water (due to frequent baths or swimming pool fun), and loss of energy (due to pushing them on swings and endless rounds of "Peek-a-boo"). 

It is important for the public to know that they do not usually dress alike. Do not be lulled into a false sense of security, thinking that you will see these two coming because they stand out in their matching outfits. They will disarm you with their smiling, happy faces and you will never even notice what they are wearing!

The brothers also have a sister, who has her own charms about her. She is kind of bossy, in a sweet way. She may in fact be the "mastermind" behind the whole crew. She is known for her pink outfits and messy hair. She is not a fan of the hairbrush, and so may sport a rather messy hairdo, despite being "girly." She has several aliases. Some of them are:  "Cakes" (or, "Babycakes"), "G" (when she is particularly sassy around her father), or "The MiaGia." Her mother has tried to call her by her given name, Mia, for years, with no success. A separate report will follow when more is learned on the female sibling of the Brothers McGee.

END OF PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT.

xo

The weekend, a big change, and camp!

Shortly after joining his company and getting acquainted with his "team," RWF told me that he works with a lot of young people.  On Friday, we went to a picnic for RWF's department. At the picnic, I could see what he meant. He does have a lot of young people working with him, and I felt so old!  I actually thought, "So the tables have turned. I'm no longer the youngest at the office, bidding my old crow manager and his stodgy, Talbots-attired wife adieu when they depart from the company "forced fun event." Mais non.  This time, I am the old crow wife, clucking her tongue at her children, yet smiling brightly while greeting the young worker bees in RWF's department. Yikes! Reality sets in again.  RWF works with a lot of nice people!  I was happy to meet them and "enjoy" the hottest day of the year (!!!) with them. (Man, it was so hot. I threatened RWF several times that if we did.not.leave.this.minute....well, you know. In reality, we stayed until 7:30. It cooled down a bit after the sun started to set.)

Let it be known, that whenever I see Nico's little face, I think, "Oh, my love," and my heart folds itself up into a little origami something-or-other because I just can not get over this baby. He is so precious!

Bode is getting so big. He is definitely going on "5." Not that I really know what "5" is, but he is looking older, acting older, and talking older.  Now, I can no  longer placate him or stop undesirable behavior with a redirection. Now, when I try to placate or redirect behavior, he argues back or tells me "why" what I am saying or doing won't work. He is just too smart for me.  And it's not just personal things that he is smart about (smart alec, sometimes) but brain-smart, too.  The other day, RWF turned on a space program, and without any introduction at all, Bode announced, "Oh that is one of Jupiter's moons, Endura."  We sat in silence until the narrator of the show confirmed that yes, we were in fact looking at one of Jupiter's moons, Endura.  (Honestly, I can't remember if the moon was called "Endura" or what it is called. Look it up. Or ask smartypants Bode sometime. He'll tell you.)

"Hi, I'm 5 going on 42, and a future employee at NASA"

And as you know, Gianna is a big 3 year old. She does not like to be left alone so I have to accompany her to the restroom every time she goes, and she now insists that her closet light be turned on every night as a night light. But, she no longer sleeps with her baby dolls or animals. She sleeps alone in her crib, with just her Hello Kitty blanket. And every night, she tells me exactly what to do, as if I'm some amnesiac that is charged with putting her to bed every night:  "Put on my Hello Kitty blanket. Turn on my fan. Turn on my closet light. I want to see my pretty dresses. (channeling Vanna White, I dutifully open her closet door, with a flourish, and show her pretty dresses to her) Oh, so pretty! Give me my bah-bah and say Goodnight to me." She says all of this quickly, like an order, with barely a breath in between as I go through the paces. 

And now that I've written that, I wonder, does she miss our routine?  See, that has all changed, because on Sunday there was a big change to our routine.

On Sunday, RWF and I just bit the bullet and moved Gianna's crib into Bode's room.  A short 2 hours later, and the verdict was in: Gianna will be moving back into her own room! What happened was this:  to be expected, they were both soooo excited to be sharing a room that they couldn't sleep.  Bode let Gianna out of her crib TWICE, and accompanied her downstairs to check in with us over silly stuff, like, "Hey guys, Gianna needs to go potty." (oh really? )  I was occupied because I was nursing Nico to sleep. So RWF had to deal on his own. The second trip downstairs occurred around 8:30 PM, which is 1 1/2 hours past their bedtime.  And I was about to have a heart attack, thinking of them tripping and falling on the stairs as they made their way down in their giggly, wired, sleep-deprived state. I told RWF, "This will not do. I can not sleep knowing that they will be going up and down the stairs all night."  Luckily, RWF threatened them with immediate separation if they did not return to their beds and GO.TO.SLEEP!  It worked. 

And to be expected, they both got up at the crack of dawn (5 AM) and yes, walked downstairs and attempted to wake me up (and Nico!), but RWF intervened.

There are so many issues.  I am trying to put Nico down in the evenings after I put Bode and Gianna down for bed.  So if they continue these shenanigans during the week, I'm not going to be able to deal with the situation and put Nico to sleep.  Plus, there is still the whole frightening stair issue (Gianna does not go down the stairs without an adult holding her hand. The fact that she was walking down (and up) the stairs with Bode, who is not so stable himself, gives me heart palpitations!) And then there is of course the idea that Gianna has already lost a lot of sleep (over 1 night), and who knows how long she'll be able to go at this pace.

So. Miss Mia Gianna will most likely be back in her own room by the end of the week.  Hope that you enjoyed the mini sleep-over, kids!

9 AM and they are both already exhausted!

The two monkeys are back in camp this week. It will be the last week of camp before school starts.  Gianna was not so gung-ho this morning about returning to camp. It could be that she is tired from last night. Who knows.  She was fine when I left her.  

Is that snowman laughing at me?!

She did insist on wearing a snowman hair bow this morning. And I had to wonder, is that a statement, that, like her mother, she is so over this stupid, hot, humid Northeast summer, or is it a harbinger of things to come (snowy freeze-your-ass-off winter)? 

Happy Monday.

xo

The time we lost (and found) Gianna

On our way to drama the Farmer's Market on Saturday

Saturday we went to the Farmer's Market. We got there later than we normally would because of the baby.   So by the time we arrived, it was packed with people and vendors.  We walked through quickly and decided to eat breakfast at our favorite stand.  I ordered, while Gianna stood beside me.  RWF was nearby, with Bode and Nico (in a stroller).  

We sat down in a picnic area to eat our breakfast sandwiches and we were joined by Mrs. Atkins, Bode's (future) Kindergarten teacher, and her daughter (who is Bode's age).   We ate and chatted for awhile.  Then we said goodbye to Mrs. Atkins, deciding to do one quick walk through the stalls again.  RWF joked, "You can spend your remaining 6 bucks on anything that your heart desires," because buying breakfast had taken almost all of our cash.  And I laughed.

We walked through a maze of people.  RWF had Nico in the stroller, and I had Bode by the hand. Gianna was beside Bode, skipping along. RWF stopped at a tomato stand, asking the vendor where she was from in NY.  They exchanged a few geographical references before we started to move on.  I then stopped, looked at RWF and asked, "Where is Gianna?"  I just knew that she was gone. Doom.  We looked at each other for a second before splitting. I felt drained and yet, full of adrenaline. I ran in one direction, still clutching Bode's hand.  RWF ran in the other direction, wheeling Nico through the crowd. 

I got to the end of my side of the farmer's market and spun around, scanning for a tiny 3 year old in the mass of tall shoppers, tables piled high with greens and crates.  No Gianna.  I yelled her name a couple of times. I remember one man glared at me. I looked at him, challenging him to say something. Then I ran back the other way I had come.  I remember Bode asked, breathless, "Why are we going so fast?"

I ran smack into a wall of people.  Roadblock. I was about to claw my way through. I was so scared at how much time had passed since Gianna had gone missing. My mind was racing with possibilities, each one worse than the last.  Then I saw Mrs. Atkins looking at me as she made her way through the shoppers. She very calmly told me, "I saw Gianna. She's over there (pointing through the crowd).  Bob is on his way to her."  I thanked her. And then, I started to cry.  Relief poured through me, and I wanted to sob. But I cried silently. I wasn't going to feel better until I saw her with my own eyes. And, I didn't want to scare Bode or Gianna by crying as openly and loudly as I felt like. 

We got through the crowd. RWF was standing on a sidewalk, holding Gianna in his arms.  I walked on my jelly legs, toward them.  "Is she alright?" I asked.  RWF said that she was fine.  I pulled her out of his arms and into mine. I hugged and kissed her, so thankful to have her back.

What happened? Why didn't I notice that she was gone sooner? Where did she go? Why didn't anyone help her? What was she thinking? Was she scared? These are questions that I keep asking myself. The answers will never be known. I think that she just got 'swept up' into the crowd walking away from us, in the opposite direction.  

As RWF said, "Well, that was our first."  But probably not our last incident involving a lost child.   Over the weekend, we would both ask each other questions about what had happened, offering our own opinions and observations.  RWF told me that when he spied Gianna, she was standing by herself on the sidewalk, looking up, as if scanning the adults for her own parents.  She did not look or act scared or panicked.  I wonder how long she had been standing there. How much longer before she would have cried, feeling abandoned and lost by the two people who are supposed to be watching over her.  When I picture her standing alone on the sidewalk, I like to imagine both her grandfathers  standing sentinel on either side of her, keeping her from harm.

I've had tearful moments over the past couple of days, reliving the "what ifs" and being so thankful that things worked out the way that they did, with my little girl safely with us. I have not wanted to leave her side, telling RWF at night, only half-joking, "I want to sleep with Gianna."  The idea of her being tucked into her crib only a small reassurance to my PTSD over the incident at the farmer's market. I wanted to crawl in beside her, press my nose to her warm, small back, and dream sweet dreams of being together always.

Happy Monday.
xo

First...

pigtails!

When I hugged Bode "good morning" bright and early today, he stared at me for a long time. And then he announced, "Your hair is like a siren."

I had no clue what he was talking about (oh, okay, I had a small idea that he was referring to my bedhead) and just said, "Thank you, Bode!" (I think that sounds like a song title, or maybe a poem: Your hair is like a siren)

Then, when I went downstairs, I was talking to RWF and saw all these random hairs moving around while I talked to him.  I walked over to the mirror and found that Bode was right:  my hair was standing on end, in lines and squiggles.  I wouldn't call it a "siren" but "Medusa" did come to mind.

I laughed out loud.  I told RWF what Bode had said to me this morning.  RWF replied, "Well, he's right."

Maybe this is why I decided to experiment with Gianna's hair this morning.  Because honestly, her hair didn't look that much better than mine when I got her up for breakfast.

Another reason is that I'm trying to keep her hair out of the stitches/bandage area.

Behold, first pigtails on our baby girl:

It was not easy scooping that fine, curly baby hair into pigtails and securing them. I just did a quick, messy job as an experiment. And Gianna wasn't so hip to the pigtails, either.

Here she is checking herself out in another mirror:

I think the pigtails lasted 5 minutes.  She walked up to me later, holding the hairbands out, like, "Here, these are of no use to me."
Today is the 30th, which means Miss Mia is 21 months. We are so close to the big 2. I can't believe it. I plan to write her monthly update tomorrow...stay tuned!
Happy weekend.
xo

When you were mine

My iPhone refused to turn on for me this morning. It was unresponsive, and completely oblivious to my pleas, tears, foot-stomping and then, outright anger.  It had left overnight, while I slept.

If I am honest with myself, I knew that our relationship was doomed. I knew that my iPhone had already been writing a Dear John letter to me.  We lasted for over two years, far longer than most cell phone relationships last. I'm a long-term kind of girl. I don't flirt around. Once I see something I like, I pretty much stick to it for years.    But a third party had entered our twosome.  "She" is cute and fun, but abusive.  "She" and the iPhone would take off together, alone. They'd disappear for awhile, and then come back.  "She" would casually toss the iPhone aside, already bored and onto the next shiny thing that caught her eye.  The iPhone would be sporting a new knick or crack in its manly black case.  Even I knew that this threesome wasn't working out.  But I couldn't break up with either one of them.

And then, just two weeks ago,  "she" slowly walked up to me. "She" looked a little guilty but also, dismissive.  "She" gave me the iPhone back. iPhone's face had been smashed to smithereens.  "Oh no, my phone!" I gasped.

iPhone was still working for me though.  I promised iPhone that I would buy another new protective case immediately. I told iPhone not to worry, that I had heard of a place in the mall that worked on smashed iPhone screens. I reassured iPhone that I still loved it, no matter what it looked like.  I wasn't about to replace it for a shinier, faster model.

We had so much history together. 

But it wasn't enough. 

It wasn't enough because "she" is still in the picture.  Even though I have forbidden her to touch iPhone, it  just wasn't enough.  iPhone left us this morning, never to return.  

xo