The Things I Forget To Tell Them

I should be ashamed of myself, and part of me is. That is the reason for this post.

I walk around every day in such a sleep deprived stupor, that I find myself telling anyone that will listen about little C's runny nose, poor sleeping habits, or the way she turns the house upside down. I don't know why I do this. Perhaps I'm trying to make light of the tough parts of parenting? Again, no clue.

As I climbed the stairs with C in my arms, she wrapped her little legs around my waist and gave my head a bear hug, like she always does on the way to go night-night. It was at that moment that I realized that I rarely share these moments with my friends and family. For that little one, I apologize.

More often I should tell of the times she giggles as I lay her on her back and cover her with her blankie, waves hello when she sees me in the morning and laughs when I take her out of her crib, sits alone in her "toy corner" looking at books giggling at the pictures she thinks are funny, rubs her daddy's ears when she's sleepy, reaches for me when she's tired, hungry, sad, happy, lonely, fearful, or giddy, plays peek-a-boo with me when she catches my eye in the rear view mirror of the car, caresses my hair when she's trying to relax, sits in my lap and snuggles.

Parenting is tough, no doubt, but there are no words for the rewards. This year I plan to take it all in stride and share more of the treasures of parenting.

A Mother Should ALWAYS Follow Her Instincts (Part I)

In my frantic attempts to get little C the H1N1 vaccine, I went on a kick of calling her pediatrician's office on an every other day schedule to see if they got any of the vaccine. Of course they did not. The nurse who answered the phone on one of my calls was very kind and knowledgeable about what mothers of young children were going through with this epidemic going on. Her words rang in my ears, "Don't take her to grocery stores or church where people could be touching her and be too close. If you go to a play group or story time and there is a child there that appears sick, don't even take her coat off. Just turn around and leave."

And that is exactly what I didn't do. Shame on me. Last Wednesday I did my best Olympic attempt in planning our morning to keep C awake until her 11:15 music class at the rec center. We went to the gym and the grocery store and stopped home quickly. I was feeling all proud of myself as we pulled into the rec center with a happy child in the backseat. That is until I put the car in park and realized that she was sound asleep. Should I just take her home and put her down for a nap...? NO...this is MUSIC class! She loves music class. I undid her straps and removed her from her car seat, big puffy winter jacket and all (even though it warmed up and it was like 55 degrees by now and she was dressed like the Nanook of the north). I carried her almost all the way into class before she woke up. I expected her to bounce from my arms with an "oh my goodness mommy, look, we are at music" hop to her step, but she was very calm staying in my lap for most of the class. See, she knew we were in the company of the seasonal enemy. I knew she was smarter than me.

Upon entering the room I noticed a little boy, one I hadn't seen at the first session, nose running and cough in full swing. At that very moment I heard his mom say, "Sorry we couldn't make it last week. I had the flu." Ummmm...wait...what did you just say...???? She must have said she likes the color blue, for she could NOT have just admitted to having the flu and now she is HERE coughing in the crook of her arm and wiping her child's running nose. Oh. No. She. Didn't.

Well she did, and I was the one who didn't run out of there like the nurse had told me to. For all of the class I played defense trying to keep C away from buggies and protect her from the germs that I swear I could see coming from said boy's mouth as he coughed. Those germs were looking right at me. I could hear them whipsering, "We're coming for you..." That was around noon on Wednesday. Around noon on Friday (there's that pesky 48 hour window of the germ world) a little trickle of clear liquid came sneaking its way out of C's nostril. Deep in my heart I knew. I knew what this meant. But I pretended it was just a little water and wiped it away. I knew what was coming. I just did not want to admit it to myself. I did not follow my instincts and now I would pay and the germs would win.

Save Me A Seat

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Something Smells...

So here I am, exactly two months from my last post. Shame on me. My goal was to write at least one thing per month. September got away from me, with traveling for the weddings and all, and apparently so did October! It took me about a month to get the house organized after being away for three weeks. Who knew traveling with a toddler would require turning the entire house upside down and bringing along everything that she has every touched.

Anyway, this morning was a flashback to April. You remember, when my life revolved around poop? Today was no different. Poor Q lost his manhood on Wednesday. That's right, he's already nine months old and our appointment for his "fixin'" came exactly one day late. I don't mean to give you the wrong impression, we aren't expecting puppies with the neighbor's dog or anything. It's just that he found C's life size blue stuffed bear and basically had his way with him. The whole senerio was very disturbing so I won't post specifically about that.

Last night was his first night home from the vet. He slept down in his bachelor pad in the basement and was very happy to do so. When I went to get him this morning around 7:30 he was laying in a cage of diarrhea. It was stinky, gross, and everywhere - including on him. I didn't know what to do first, so I woke up A. Remember his vow to take care of the dog and help out? Despite the fact that he worked all night and was on his first hour of sleep, I was totally cashing in on that promise. As he was getting on his "clean up the crap clothes" to join me in my sh&*$y morning, I decided to leash Q and bring him outside. As we were mid way through the kitchen, he did one of those huge doggie shakes and got poop all over my cabinets and refrigerator. Thinking back it was kind of like a slow motion scene in a movie. You know the ones, you are watching and can't believe the mess that is unfolding in front of the character's eyes. No character here, no cleanup crew, just my REAL life. Lovely. So now a gross mess in the basement has become a full on disaster in the living space of our home.

There was a time in my life when something like this would have brought me to immediate "why me??" tears. I was so utterly defeated and exhausted this morning that I didn't even have the energy to make the tears come out from wherever they hide. I mean seriously, what a horrible way to start a day. S*$t on the refrigerator?

I worked cleaning the kitchen, while A worked at cleaning the basement, then together we went outside to tackle the dog. I am going to make a mental note of that the next time I whine and say, "We don't do anything together anymore." I need to be careful what I wish for...

So you are probably wondering what little C was doing while her parents were preoccupied with poop that did not belong to her. She was gated in the fortress AKA living room. We peeked in and there she was standing on a push toy that she rightfully pushed up to the desk, full on clacking away at the laptop keys! Can you believe this? We are cleaning up after her dog and she's trying to surf the Internet? She didn't successfully log on, but she did manage to change the font size of my email inbox to colossal. I have no idea how to fix it. I'll have to wait until she gets up from her nap to help me.

Little Q is all cleaned up and sleeping soundly in the kitchen. I feel bad for the poor guy. He's had a traumatic week. I look forward to his full recovery and getting back to the days of living with a potty trained dog. I say dog now because that little fourteen pound bundle of joy we brought home in April is a whopping sixty pounds of pure love!

Cold Feet?

Footed jammies are the best. Well, not my cup of tea, but for a baby they are perfect. It's like wrapping them in a second skin before bed, certain to keep them warm when they inevitably pull their covers off of them in the night.

After a long, long day I mustered up the energy to wash the few dishes that remained in the sink. We don't have a dishwasher so I wash dishes at least 7-10 times a day. It's so defeating when you get them all done and then notice that butter knife laying on the table. I give C her bath in the sink because bending over the tub is something that my creaky body can not tolerate. I guess when she gets a little bigger I won't have a choice, but then again, she'll be "solid" by then and I won't have to worry about her slipping away and going down the drain. Anyhow, you know the drill. Clean the sink, prepare for bath, chase child around living room, undress child - whoops poopy diaper, clean diaper, put child in sink. Then the hard part. Keep child from pulling the drain plug out and chewing it, turning on the scalding water, remaining seated and somewhat still. In our case, lather up a wild mane of hair, scrub and then try and rinse as much soap out as possible. Drain the sink, dry the babe, comb hair, diaper and finish the squeaky clean situation with the last CLEAN pair of comfy cotton footed jammies. Now you are thinking, perfect! There's probably a little milk in this scenario and then off to bed, right? Wrong.

Now that the baby is clean and ready for bed, she gets loaded up in the stroller to take the puppy for his nightly walk. She usually likes this walk. She sucks vigorously on her binky as she stares up at the trees and sky. It's the perfect way to calm her down and get her nice and relaxed before bed. On most nights as soon as we get home from our walk, I take her upstairs and put her to bed. This night in particular I did not bring her milk along on the walk, I figured I'd give it to her when we got back.

We get home and I de-collar the dog of the walking collar and re-collar him with his inside collar. I take the baby out of the stroller and put her in the kitchen - now I am completely exhausted at this point. I'm standing there in the kitchen thinking about how in just a few short minutes I can retire to the couch where I will lay motionless for at least fifteen minutes, staring at the ceiling, before I will decide to do my favorite thing - eat dessert and possibly read a little or watch TV before I too, drift over to dreamland. The thought of relaxing put a little hop in my step and as I was pouring the milk into the sippy cup, I look over and you will never guess what I see...

Little C, in her nice comfy footed jammies, is S-T-A-N-D-I-N-G in Quincy's water dish. That's right STANDING in three inches of water - in her footed jammies - the last clean pair she has! UGH! You can only imagine that my dessert and rest was preempted as I undressed the 'already ready for bed' child, redressed her in some sort of sleeping attire (something nowhere as comfy as footed jammies) and eventually put her to sleep!

Did I mention that she's into everything? Exactly why is it that kids make an absolute dash to any and all areas/things that are not intended for them? After she was asleep, seeing the trail of water across the kitchen floor provided a little (more) comic relief to my day. But cleaning it up reminded me of just how exhausting raising a toddler can be.

I'll save what happened in the morning for another day. Let's just say that it left me unexpectedly cleaning (on my hands and knees) the dining room floor at 7:30 in the morning. (Did I mention that I'm not a morning person?)

Sleep

Ahh, the August 12th post seems so so long ago. I can't believe I had a whole night's sleep just two and a half weeks ago. I think that rest was supposed to last me until now. We've been having a heck of a time with C's sleeping. We had to regress to the "Ferber Progressive Waiting Approach" last night. I thought my days of "timing the screaming and entering the room to console a screaming child without being able to pick her up" were over until my next child. How mean is that approach anyway? I mean you go in there, pat the child, tell them everything is OK, lay them down and leave again ONLY to have him/her start screaming louder than before you entered the room. 3 min, 5 min, 7 min, 9 min. That's really only all it took though. Once she was finally asleep she slept through until 6am, at which point I regressed once again and handed her a bottle in her crib and went back to bed. She downed it and quietly fell back to sleep until 8. The approach might not be the cuddliest, but it sure does work.

I do have to say I felt SO much better today having had a good night's rest. I was on the verge of death yesterday. When your sleep is messed with, you might as well cancel everything on the calendar for that day and stay in your PJs. I'm so miserable on those days, no one wants to see me, believe me.

I will say that little C was just as tired and mixed up as I was yesterday. In an attempt to get her to nap so I could nap - which wasn't happening yesterday - I fed her everything in the house that I thought she would eat. That did the trick. Could it be that I'm not feeding her enough and something triggers her brain the second that I put her in the crib? Anyway, I think this photo says it all. After a really big snack yesterday afternoon she went into her crib at 3:45pm and slept until 7pm. One would think that would have messed up last night's sleep, but it didn't.

We are going to start to try to train her to take the one big afternoon nap instead of playing this morning and afternoon guessing game with her sleeping. Plus, I'm going to bump up the caloric intake during meals and snacks to try and satisfy that little belly.

I cooked her scrambled eggs in butter - which is a total no-no for the way I would prepare eggs for myself. It smelled SOOOOOO good though! A came in from walking the dog and he was like, "Wow! That's what breakfast is supposed to smell like." If only I was able to eat like a fourteen month old. They have no idea how good they have it! Imagine someone preparing you delicious foods, bathing you in nice warm water and then saying all you have to do is go in your nice comfy bed and nap. Heaven...

Ahh..So close...

So night two of our hopefully new sleeping pattern didn't go over as I had planned. C went down at 8:45 and was out like a light in no time. The all so familiar sounds of her muttering and grunting were quickly heard at 4:15am. I let her fidget for about half an hour then I went in to change her diaper. I held strong to my new "no nighttime bottle" policy. Although she was not happy to see me quickly disappear into the dark night right after her diaper change, she was back asleep by 5:15. It was a little hard to hear her crying and stirring around in her crib, but I know it's best for all of us to give this a good, hard shot. I truly believe that I have fostered this nighttime waking by going in and being her source of comfort. I know she is able to self soothe, I just need to have the patience - when I am about to fall over tired and just want her to go back to sleep - to let her practice this skill.

So because she didn't have a bottle in the night NOR did she have one during the day - sippy straw cup all the way - that's two days in a row without a bottle! I think this could be it. I think I might have washed my last bottle until baby number 2 comes along. Wow, I really disliked washing those bottles. They have five parts to take apart and wash. I'm going to encourage a different, simpler version for my next child.

My husband's away at a conference for the weekend so I'll have to be strong and battle the nighttime cries alone. It's always easier to have someone else here to remind me that it's OK if she cries and she'll go back to sleep (eventually). I'm hoping by the time he's back she's sleeping through the night or just simply returning to sleep with a new diaper and not a bottle.

Wish her (and me) luck!!!

A Dream Come True

When I quickly awoke to my husband's alarm this morning at 6am, I thought something was terribly wrong. C hadn't woken up AT ALL last night. No whining, muttering, crying, wet diapers, need for milk - at say 1am, 2am, 3am, 4am - nothing. Complete silence. That doesn't mean that I didn't wake up on my own and have a spoonful of ice cream and a piece of bread at 12am, but that's besides the point. That's my own vice and I'm hoping to grow out of it (before it causes me to grow out of my clothes).

She actually slept all night! You may be thinking that she's like four months old or something, but at almost fourteen months old, she hasn't slept through the night in probably the last seven months. I've just resigned to the fact that my kid doesn't sleep. The other day at music class another mother and I watched as our children made googlie eyes at one another and ran the room looking for mischief. She asked, "Are you totally exhausted at night? Because I am." I answered with a "for sure" yes and also added that C didn't sleep well at night on top of being super active throughout the day. I've actually given up that it will even happen. I've managed to learn to function on fragmented sleep - minus the time I left the house door wide open, went out and forgot, came home to discover the open door, freaked out, called 911 and realized when the police arrived that it was just me and I forgot...but that's another post.

I should have known that she would sleep like a rock last night. After swim class we took C and Q for a walk and she was so, so tired. The good kind of tired where she just lays in her stroller, so calm and peaceful staring up at you and then the sky as her blinks get slower and slower and her eyes begin to droop right in front of you. That's the great kind of tired vs. the "screaming and kicking off of shoes tired" that happens when mommy's pushed the limit at Target.

She went down instantly when we got back from our walk and I didn't hear her until 6:45 this morning when her eyes popped open and she was ready to say, "Good morning WORLD!"

The best part about not waking in the night is that she didn't have to have the every so necessary BOTTLE to go back to sleep at 4:45, that's right, at fourteen months I still hand over a bottle full of warm milk at this God awful hour to get her to go back to sleep. Worst parenting mistake. It wasn't until she was like 9 months old that I read an article somewhere that after like 5 months they shouldn't need to eat in the night. I was all "WHHHAAATTTT???" I created a nighttime bottle monster because I didn't READ THE BOOKS.

I've been trying so hard to transition her to sippy cups instead of bottles, which has been quite the challenge I tell you. I finally found one, after seeing my friend's son with one. A munchkin soft straw cup, that she will actually use. I have this mental problem though. I won't consider her graduated from a bottle to a sippy cup until she will use the kind that has the traditional hard spout with three holes in it. You know, a sippy cup.

Anyway, it was such a milestone reached when I realized that she slept all night, was able to take her downstairs, warm some milk (she likes her drinks warm, sweet princess), put it in her "sippy" cup and have her drink it with her giant blue stuffed bear in the living room! What a great feeling!

Now I'm sure that this will not happen again tonight, but I will celebrate this accomplishment for the next fourteen hours and look forward to the next time it happens!

Our Little Fishy

I'm having so much fun participating in all of these baby enrichment classes! I'm not so sure about baby C, but I'm surely loving it. Last night we had our first of eight swimming lessons. I registered for the evening class so A could join us and assist with the drying and changing the baby at the end of the swimming session. I am sure you have heard someone, if it wasn't you yourself, say that they took their baby to swim class. Have you ever really sat and thought about what that actually involves?

Mistake number one - putting the baby in her "swim diaper" before we left the house. I knew this so I don't know why I made the mistake, but did you know that those special diapers are made to contain poop, not absorb pee? It makes sense because the diaper would hold ten pounds of pool water in a nanosecond. So picture it. I put the baby in her swim diaper thirty minutes before class. That means she peed on daddy, peed on me, and peed in her car seat on the way to swimming! Luckily I put a plastic bad and a towel on her car seat when I realized why we were all wet!

Mistake number two - Mommy wore a bathing suit with a full front zipper. That means that baby can pull the zipper down. It was nice to see that my post baby breasts float in the water giving them the appearance that they are ten years younger, but family swim lessons is not the place for this type of revelation. Next week I'll pin that sucker closed.

Success number one - bringing daddy along for the ride! It was so fun to have him there and although I know I looked like the mom that couldn't handle this so she brought along support - I couldn't give a rat's ass! If those people knew how I run this show solo, almost exclusively, they'd be cheering me on that I finally had some help! If I ever needed his set of hands, it was last night. Which brings me back to asking if you ever really thought about swim lessons with a baby. A soaking wet baby, a soaking wet mom, and a yucky wet floored locker room. How exactly do you pull this off alone? Hopefully daddy will come every week and I won't have to figure that one out.

Success number two - taking swimming lessons in the summer. This is upstate NY and it's cold in July. I did my best to dry us off but we were still damp. I could NEVER imagine doing this is the dead of the winter. They offer classes then! You won't see C or I there come snow season. Snow and swimming, no thank you.

Success number three - babies and swimming equal exhaustion (for both of us). It wasn't long before both of us were asleep after swimming. I'd love to report that it was for the whole night, but last night turned out to be a three time wake up night. Binky, diaper, and morning milk - mommy at your service...

We are all looking forward to next week's lesson. Who knows, maybe I can even hold the camera this time and daddy can take the plunge!

Now She's One!

The party weekend was fantastic. I freaked out the morning of because the weather did not cooperate with my "barbecue" theme. It poured buckets. I'm surprised the basement didn't flood. It's probably because the weed roots are so intertwined beneath the 17 inches of mulch around the foundation of the house, that not even water can get through. Anyway, it was a really "rainy feel bad for anyone who was planning an outdoor party" kind of day. My behavior was out of control. I was the party planner from hell and I felt really bad about my snippy outbursts. Only if you were in my house that morning would you know just how bad I felt. I have repeatedly apologized to those people who happened to be here that morning. Anyway, they have forgiven me because they are my family and they have to :)

Once the guests started to arrive everything fell into place. The kids really enjoyed the music and movement activities my genius friend Jen, who happens to be a music teacher, led them in. The adults got to eat in peace and the kids sang, danced, and almost jumped their way though the ceiling with their excitement. Little C thoroughly enjoyed her cupcake and needed a bath mid party to clean the frosting off of her. Don't you love being one? Getting stripped down naked at your own birthday party and it's totally acceptable? No facebook pictures surfacing the next day to ruin your life or anything! All of the partying made her so tired that after her bath she took a nap.

While she slept we all sat around and ate cake and opened her presents. They were all so fun! When she woke from her nap to find new toys strewn about the living room, she was especially happy!

We can't thank our family enough for traveling the distance to celebrate this special event with us. Our hometown friends made the party complete. We thank everyone for their generosity. Happy Birthday little C!

If You're Happy and You Know It

It is amazing how being proud can make you feel like you are on top of the world. Watching my child grow and learn new skills makes me want to burst with excitement and bring her out into the world to yell, "Look! Look at what she can do! She can hold a sock to her foot. She knows it goes there!" Parenting is the best. Today as we were driving back from Target for the fourth time this week, while listening to Barney's Great Adventure (what is playing 90% of the time I am behind the wheel), the purple dinosaur's rendition of If You're Happy and You Know It began blaring through my speakers. I glanced in the rear view mirror and there was little C, clapping her hands at the appropriate time! Now I thought it was a miracle that she clapped when I asked her to, but now she's doing it for Barney while no one is watching (or so she thinks). This is a huge step in her language development. This baby understand words! I love it. I was so happy, I started clapping too. Can you really get this kind of satisfaction at work? I think not.

I'm Neurotic

Ok. There I said it. I believe if someone can admit their own faults than perhaps they are somewhere on the road to fixing them. I am neurotic and I hate it. Being neurotic steals all the fun away from things. I get so excited about things such as getting together with friends, planning a party, participating in celebrations, decorating, crafting, painting, and making things - to name a few. However that little lady inside my brain who whispers the need for perfection in EVERYTHING takes over and makes all of the above no longer fun.

I've spent some time lately thinking about how and why this came to be part of my personality. Having gotten married just six years ago, I can clearly (well, almost clearly) remember the wedding planning process. I was an involved bride and certainly had certain things that I WANTED for MY wedding day, but I was not neurotic. A perfect example is when I was totally cool, relieved in fact, to use the "house" centerpieces at my shower. Thought it was a great idea. And although they were gorgeous and saved money and were way prettier than something I could afford to make, I would NEVER agree to such a thing now. Everything has to be special and unique and that is down right STRESSFUL.

I am SO SO SO excited about C's first birthday party next weekend. So many of our friends and family are coming to visit and stay for the weekend. I think we have a really nice party planned. First of all, we have the cutest baby in all the land to celebrate, we have good food, great people, adorable decorations and entertainment for the kids. So why am I stressing about the algae that is on the siding 25 feet high on my house? Or the seventy year old windows on the second floor that don't open so I can't clean them properly? Or the slightly broken door that we can't quite afford to fix right now? These things don't really matter to people, do they? And do they really matter to me or am I just worried that they will matter to our guests? I've told you about the gardening and the landscape. I spent another couple of hours out there this week and things are looking pretty good. Not perfect, but OK. Will it matter to anyone else that there are weeds? I sure hope not.

So in my reflection, the only thing I can come up with is the fact that I moved three times in four years and had to start new jobs each time. So that means I taught in four states in the matter of five years. Contrary to the popular belief that "teachers have an easy life and we can say or do what we want to children or we can plan our lessons ahead of time or not plan them at all because no one is monitoring us" it is NOT that way. I assure you that starting over in a new state in a new grade is hard, you do have to have patience with children at all times, and your lessons better darn well be planned ahead of time and executed PERFECTLY because someone is WATCHING (and judging) ALL OF THE TIME. And I do believe that that is how it should be. I would never as a professional try to get away with any less than what is absolutely in the best interest of children. But that requires a mentality that things are "just right" or "perfect" because your job and reputation depend on it. If you stay in the same place and job your reputation takes you a long way. When you are new you are always proving yourself. So I came to the conclusion that being in new situations - state, job, home, social circle - has caused me to become neurotic. I always feel the need to have things perfect.

And maybe this year, as I am in my new role as mommy, the anxiety about having everything "just so" is heightened. And even though I know and believe that little C could care less about weeds, broken doors, or algae it stills eats away at me - just a little. Not enough that I will take off my cute sundress and put on old clothes and go scrub it, but enough that it will continue to pop into my brain until the party is over.

Live a simple life. That's what I keep telling myself. It doesn't have to be perfect. I deserve to rest and relax sometimes too, don't I? It's a process and hopefully, sooner than later, I'll get there.

My My, Look Who Has Grown

I have to say that I am secretly happy that we are quickly crusing through this "ever so cute" puppy stage and getting on with life! Is that terrible? I realize now, that I craved a dog. Not so much a puppy.

Quinn is growing quickly as you can see. He's not as big as you might imagine though. When you see him in person it puts it all in perspective. He's only about one third of Fin's adult size. I predict he weighs about 23 pounds now. He's going to the vet this week so I'll find out for sure.

We've progressed from the stage of my life that revolved around poop. There hasn't been that kind of an accident in the house in longer than I can remember. Now it's all about teeth. Both C's and Q's. C finally has the clear signs of four teeth. Did I mention that I was secretly worried that we were going to have to purchase her a set of dentures before Kindergarten? There's also evidence of a molar popping out. Quincy has a few loose teeth and I noticed this morning that two bottom ones fell out and the adult teeth are popping through. I love the idea that I can use the word adult and Quincy in the same sentence! Puppies are TOUGH.

The potty training has gone really well, he's listening to the word no, he's nipping considerably less, and he's starting to show C the respect she deserves as a superior member of our pack :) A and I have been watching A LOT of Cesar Millan the Dog Wisperer. That guy is amazing. A has even made the time in his hectic life to read his book Ceasar's Way. Speaking of A, I have to hand it to him. He has a really, really tough work schedule. On top of that, he's managed to hold every singe solitary one of his promises to help with the puppy. I really appreciate that.

If only I could freeze time for C and speed up time for Q. That would be perfect. But I know the reality. Before he's one chill, calm bulldog, she's going to be one running, talking toddler. Deep breath and sigh. I can see it now. They are both going to be self sufficient and I'm going to be preggo...

The Next American Idol?

Considering I'm an American Idol fan, I think it's appropriate that little C had her first Grow With Me Music class today, the day of the season 8 finale. It was precious to be on the other side of the fence, so to say. I always had a slight sense of annoyance when parents would show up with their child to class early to "look around." I felt like that was secret code for "we want to check up on you." Everyday you learn something new...

Even though the class was 3.2 miles from my house, we left 35 minutes before class was scheduled to begin - I didn't want to be late, God forbid, and interrupt by coming AFTER the welcome song had already been sung! We got there fifteen minutes early, which was just enough time to get a library card while we waited. Ms. Barb, our teacher, kindly asked little C and I to wait in the hall "because class will begin in 15 minutes" and "I'll open the door to welcome you in at that time" (as Ms. Barb smiles). Yikes! I've done that smile and said those lines before! Really Ms. Barb, I'm just happy we made it and I know you are lovely, I'm not spying on you. We'll wait outside, point taken :)

The kids in the class were ADORABLE and C was the youngest member of the class. You have to be eleven months to participate and she will be...tomorrow. Everyone else could stand on their own and all but one other girl walked. C didn't let any of this hold her back.

As the welcome song was about to begin, she crawled off my lap, straight across the circle and "gently" used Ms. Barb's limbs to stand herself up RIGHT NEXT TO THE TEACHER as SHE WAS TRYING TO SING AND TEACH! That's my girl! She preferred to sit next to Ms. Barb, near Ms. Barb, and did I mention, ON Ms. Barb! I looked like I was there alone without a child! It was so interesting that she knew that Ms. Barb was in charge, out of all of those new people... She was amazed by all of the singing and movement activities. She even clapped at one point! Who cares if it was after the clapping portion of the song? She's so talented.

She got the chance to play with egg shakers, instruments, and scarves. We sang songs and danced around, patted our legs and pointed to our toes. We hugged and swayed, ran and walked.

What an amazing gift to be able to experience all these things with your child. I don't know who is more excited for next week, me or C! I think the highlight was when she got a musical note stamped on her hand at the end of the class. How cute is that?

Mulch Update

Just to keep you in the loop, newspaper trees have grown along side of thousands of dandilions and other prickly weeds. I spent much of yesterday morning cursing the concept of gardening while digging weeds out of my "already mulched" flower beds. It is official, A is fired from yard duty. Perhaps that was his mission. If so, he can bask in this victory while I hire a pricey landscaper for next year :)

My friend, S, put it all in perspective for me yesterday. While ranting about my gardening woes she said, "Well, remember it's just mulch and dirt. I went out and saw that I had some weeds too the other day. I started picking them and then thought to myself, this is stupid. I'm pulling things out of the dirt right now. It's not like I'm going to bother replacing them with flowers or anything. So I stopped and went back in."

Then we went back to talking about more important things that REALLY matter like designer jeans and Tory Burch flats. Gotta love girlfriends.

Am I really that strange?

I am starting to realize that there have been multiple times in my life when I have made requests or sought out information that has made people tilt their head to the side and squint their eyes at me.

I'm not talking WEIRD, R rated stuff or anything silly like that. Now that I think of it, most of it has to do with decorating or party planning. I've told you about that side of me that likes things to be done in a grandiose manner. I thought I had conquered that side and on most days I do live my simplest life, BUT there are big events coming up and the need for glitz and glamor are starting to reemerge.

Both my brother and best friend are getting married in the fall. I have a hand in some of the planning of my future sister in law's bridal shower and am fully in charge (I love being in charge :) of my best friend's shower. Now these are glamorous events. I'm used to planning, preparing and executing the annual mother's day tea party for my first grade students - all the while pretending I'm Jennifer Lopez in the Wedding Planner, so this is the real deal. I'm so excited about these two events because there actually is a budget and the centerpieces don't need to be origami paper flowers painstakingly produced by six year olds. Both of these events are well under way and I can't talk about them too much here for fear that my brides will read this entry. So I'll leave this topic for now and we'll return at another time when all surprises are revealed.

Next up, C's first birthday party!! Now this is an exciting event. We live 6-7 hours away from both of our families so we are really excited that many of them are making the drive to join us for this special event. So certainly, with the people we love driving such a distance, I want them to be comfortable and enjoy their stay.
So when you live on .17 acres and one fourth of that is backyard, where do you comfortably put more than four people? Well, first off they will need chairs. I don't have that many chairs.

When on vacation, I've contacted rental places for things for little C to use while away from home. I've heard people say that they've rented party supplies from similar types of places. I've also been told that you could rent just about anything you'd want. I looked in to local rental places for folding chairs and banquet style tables. I found them, at a very reasonable price, but then started wondering if folding chairs would be comfortable and function properly on the uneven terrain of our backyard.

Then the answer came to me. Picnic tables! We need three eight foot picnic tables! It will look neat and orderly and I won't have to worry about someone going head over heels in a rickety folding chair. Perfect! Now where do I find picnic tables for hire? None the rental places have picnic tables.

I remembered there was a store, Outdoor Accents, right down the street from our house. It's one of those places that you drive by, never a need to go in, but always an interest in what they are selling in there. It's located at the bottom of a steep driveway, off a pretty busy road. They have many of their goods outside of the store. Picnic tables, Adirondack chairs, wooden swings, you get the idea. So I pull in the driveway, Murano on two wheels, hoping to see a "picnic tables for rent" sign in the window. It was quiet, no other shoppers at 10:01 on a Monday morning. There was no way I was getting C out of her car seat for this so I drove up and looked around, squinting at the sale price of picnic tables. Because if they are reasonably priced, maybe we just need to BUY three eight footers...

There's a man! I roll down the window and ask him if they rent picnic tables. He leans in closer to my passenger side window, "What?" (there he goes with the head tilt and squint...)

"I'm looking to rent some picnic tables!" I say with my "bright and cheery I've been up for hours" smile.

"Uhhh...Let me get the owner..."

There is a quick exchange between the two men behind the gazebo (I could see them through the lattice). There was some pointing to my car and some shoulder shrugs.

Here comes the owner! He approaches my passenger window and asks how he can help me.

"I'd like to rent some picnic tables!" (again with my cheery smile)

"Um, I can't say anyone has ever asked that question before." (head tilt and squint)

Then I go on with some explaining about why I need them, all the while C is making animal sounds in the backseat. The man is looking at me like I'm crazy and then I realize that he cannot see the baby so he's more perplexed about the strange animal sounds than my wacky request. So I interrupt myself on my Martha Stewart rant about setting the perfect picnic tables for my BBQ and say, "Oh! That just my daughter. There's no wolf or anything back there."

Seriously Christie, a wolf? What the heck is wrong with me?

Anyway, he saw my legitimate concern about the comfort of my guests and offered to rent me some of last year's "worn" tables. I'll have to check back a few weeks before the party to get an update on "last year's inventory." Something tells me they aren't going anywhere...

I am a woman of my word. For years I've been telling kids, "No question is silly. Ask away." See, it pays to speak up for yourself and find the answers to your queries, no matter how strange they sound. Maybe I'll set a trend and you'll easily be able to rent picnic tables as well! Nobody wants to see granny flip out of a folding chair.

Guess Who Can Say Da-Da!

Maybe it's because she finally got to spend a whole weekend with her daddy, that our little girl became obsessed with the word da-da yesterday! After fourteen days of straight working, A got a weekend off - at last. C had so much fun playing with daddy and getting princess kisses from him. She was "ever so pleasantly" surprised when he would be the one to pop in her room during the night or in the morning.

So all day yesterday - in the house, outside, in the car, from her crib - I could hear her saying her new favorite word.

"A da-da-da! A da-da-da! A-ba-ba-ma! A-da-da-da!"

She has such great communication skills. She also told me that she's looking forward to spending this weekend with her favorite man too.

Mulch

I was deceived by the pleasing aesthetics of the landscape when we came with our real estate agent to look at this house. Oh, everything was beautifully edged, mulched, planted, arranged! It was a new homeowner's dream! The ivy draped over the fence was a blanket of luscious green.

Only just after living here for a few weeks, we moved in in June 2006, the height of the growing/drying out season, everything started to look...well...not as pleasing to the eye. Who the heck knew you had to water all of this stuff? I thought you had to water FLOWERS, but the greenery? Before I knew it the vibrant greens were slowing morphing into brownish-tinged weeds.

So we enjoyed getting to know that lay of the land that first summer. I took a hack saw to many things I did not like, only to learn the next spring, that what you cut back grows in thicker and stronger. Damn those ferns. So really I cut my nose to spite my face, because the summer of '07 brought about a garden of all the things I hated.

I should rewind and tell you that I started having literal nightmares about how I would clean up the mess from the fall/winter AND mulch the yard in '07. I began asking around to the people at work who were noted for having a green thumb. Bags of mulch vs. delivery (in yards? huh?) by truck. Landscaping company vs. doing it alone. Red mulch, black mulch, brown mulch...who knew this project had an endless array of selections...I wished there was one answer, cut and dry, that would have just made my life easier.

I sweat through doing it myself in '07. The truck dropped off some ungodly amount of mulch yardage on my front lawn and I went at it little by little. SO little by little in fact, that the lump in the front yard started growing mold and passerbys started making comments as if we were the neighbors with the 15 junky cars propped up on cinder blocks on the lawn. Jeez...don't they know I'm doing this alone? I should mention that my husband works 1,000 hours per week and was unable to assist in this project.

Luckily, my knight in shining armor, took some time on a weekend off in '08 to get this project DONE - man style. He decided bags would be easier so he went to Home Depot and bought 25 bags of red this time. 25 was enough to do only the backyard. So the backyard got done. Remember, man style, one weekend. What didn't get done that weekend, didn't get done. So who cares if we have two sides to our yard and a front? No one will notice! Gosh C, every little thing bothers you. The weeds in the other flower beds grew so tall that year, I could barely find Finster out there. I was pregnant at the time, 7 months along, so all I felt able to do was give the mulch in the back a little shush with my hand to flatten and spread it out. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I was VERY grateful that I could look out the back window and see my beautiful yard. I just kept the shades on the sides and front drawn that year. Heck, it was only a year.

We live on .17 of an acre and .16 of it is mulch. The other is grass which we pay a landscaper 20 dollars per week to mow. Come to think of it, I could probably cut the one blade of grass with a scissors, and use that 20 bucks to get a manicure every week...I'm going to revisit that "property upkeep" portion of the budget and consider some tweaks...

Here we are 2009. Post-baby, with my pre-baby body, fellin' strooong. I'm a parent now. Practically superhuman. This yard is gonna look F-I-N-E this year. Again, my husband planned to use this weekend off to tackle this job. Only he approaches gardening a little like decorating a dilapidated house. Imagine walking into the grossest house ever. Mold, rot, cobwebs. You take a throw pillow, put it on the dusty couch, put your hands on your hips, breath out, stretch your back and yell, Home Sweet Home! You would NEVER, right? So why on God's green earth would we approach landscaping like that? He wants to take EXPENSIVE mulch and throw it on top of weeds, leaves, pieces of newspaper that blew into our yard, dog poop - you name it - and call it beautiful. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Mulch was NOT designed to be strategically placed around dandelions. They are not flowers we want to accentuate!

Long story short. The yard is mulched, some dandelions still in place. If you were to remove the mulch, half the yard is clean. The other half might be growing newspaper trees and weeds in a few weeks. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt this year. If no weeds grow in the "dirty" parts of the yard, then next year I say screw it, I'm not edging, raking or cleaning a darn thing.

The moral of this story is don't be tricked by beauty. The previous owners of this house were obviously given a talent by God for yard design and gardening. As for myself and A, we are one step above couch potatoes, with allergies and a fear of yucky bugs. Buyer beware, the gardener doesn't come with the house, but the nastiness of the insects and weeds, well, they do.

The next time you think, "Hey! Let's remove that patch of grass and plant some flowers and mulch around it!" Think again. Let's give the grass some overdue credit. It's a beautiful thing.

Oh HI!...My name is QUINCY

I'm the C family pet! I've been living here with these "ever so kind people" for nearly three weeks and something in my brain just clicked! They speak English so I've decided to start learning this language. They have one word in particular that is certainly very important in this language. It is the word NO. Most of the time, when they talk to me, their sentence starts with this word. But I must be doing something right, because today, more and more sentences have started with "good boy"! This might be because after my mommy washed the kitchen floor I DID NOT pee on it. I did, however, poop in the living room. I just couldn't hold it. I heard NO that time. I'll try harder to remember to cry at the door tomorrow.

I think the fresh air helped clear my head. It was 75 degrees here today! I thought I was on a vacation or something! After my bath, yes my kind mommy bathed me after washing the kitchen floor, I got to bask in the sunshine in the backyard. For a moment I went astray and rolled in some pee dirt, but mommy reminded me using her favorite word, that I shouldn't be doing that.

I live with a little tiny person who I am NOT allowed to bite. I try to be gentle with her because she's just a baby and all. She doesn't even speak English either. She kind of barks like me though. I like her a lot because when I am gated in the kitchen she always comes over to the gate and offers me her finger through the slot. It usually tastes like cookies.

Did you know that you were not supposed to pee on the floor, bite humans, play with other people's toys and shoes or cry during the night? Boy, that's a lot of things to remember!

BUT, did you also know that puppies get kisses and snuggles? They also get to sit in mommy and daddy's lap. Puppies get to play outside, get baths and belly rubs, and get lots of treats when they remember to follow the rules. I also have special times for resting. That's important because I need my rest too.

Did you also know that I am lucky to have my very own special name? Quincy. I like it. I just realized that it was mine.

Dogs Don't Eat Yogurt

Apparently, my dog is a health food junkie. Perhaps this is because he only eats the finest puppy food and all natural wild berry flavored puppy treats.

He is much different than Finster in the way that Quincy actually stands at his empty food dish and scratches the inside of the empty bowl and drags the dish across the floor. The clamoring, scratching, and banging of the stainless steel dish would be a clear sign to anyone that the dog is hungry. Fin NEVER did that. He ate when I put the food down and that was it. I'm perplexed because if Q is this smart, why can't he figure out the whole "cry at the door" thing when he has to pee or poop? He'd rather pop a squat wherever.

So mid morning today was no different than any other mid morning since Quinn came to our family. He's not a good breakfast eater so around 10, he's hungry again. I know I shouldn't give in and feed him until lunch, but it is heartbreaking to see a little baby puppy sitting next to his dish, head cocked to the side, staring into your eyes and whining. Ok, you win.

So I pour another scoop of dog food into his bowl and he begins to chow down. I decide that I too should have my mid morning snack. Today it was vanilla yogurt with a few frozen blueberries mixed in.

As soon as Q was finished with his second helping of breakfast he came to my feet and started jumping and barking and whining. This time I said absoutely not! You are not getting ANOTHER helping. Come to find out, he wanted MY yogurt. I actually found myself saying aloud, "Dogs don't eat yogurt." And then I started thinking that maybe since he likes his wild berry flavored treats, he'd enjoy a frozen blueberry. And what do you know?

At first he was puzzled by this little, cold, round ball that was touching his lips. Like any cautious doggie, he put it on the floor and danced around it for a bit. He'd bite it and spit it out and jump back from it. He rolled it around the kitchen floor and lost it once inside the mess of his rope toy. When he found it, he gobbled it right up. He had three others after that one.

Before you know it he'll be trading in the Eukanuba for a Jenny Craig Turkey Burger. Does PetCo sell tofu? I think that might be where we are heading with his diet.

I Thought You Were A Mom

A few weeks ago I realized that I broke one of the cardinal elementary school rules. My library books are over ten months overdue. Even though I took the 20 minute ride to work everyday for two years, now it seems like the school is on the other side of the country. So when I travel to that area I always have at least two things that need to be done. Luckily for me, the best mall around is also in that town, so that's one of my two necessary reasons to venture to that part of the country. Today I decided that we'd return the library books before hitting the mall. Isn't that mature of me to do the necessary errand first?

I always feel such overwhelming happiness when I return to the school. It's great to reconnect with so many adults and children alike. I'm always surprised at how much the kids have grown since the last time I have seen them. It's so fun to run into them in the hallway and to witness their stunned expressions when they realize it's me, minus the nine month pregnant belly, their long lost first grade teacher.

Today was no different. Except one of my little girls from last year spotted me holding little C in the hallway. I could see her wheels turning and her eyes squinting to see if she recognized this sort of familiar person in front of her. I said, "Hi G!" and she said, "Oh, Mrs. C! I thought you were a mom!"

Ok, let's stop for a minute and process this comment...

What exactly does that mean? Now that I AM a mom, I'm always very perplexed by this whole "you look like a mom" thing. What does a mom look like? Because everything I was wearing was a part of my pre-pregnancy wardrobe so does this "look" have to do with my aging face and dark under eye circles. Is it that obvious that a second grader can pick up on it?

So did little G mean that she thought I looked like a mom, but then she realized I didn't look like a mom, because that would make me sad if she thought I resembled an awkward teenager. Or did she mean she thought I was a mom, but then she got closer and realized that it was her youthful first grade teacher, meaning that I look way younger than a mom should look - in a good way. Or did she mean, I know you don't work here anymore because you are a mom now, but now you are here so I am confused. I'm sure she meant none of the above and if I were to ask her today, she'd put her hands behind her back, sway side to side, tilt her head to the side, smile at me and say, "I don't knooww."

Of course my reaction was, "I am a mom, silly! C and I came to visit you all!" And she just smiled and stared at me and said, "C is big."

If only second graders could make themselves better understood and 31 year old stay at home moms could be secure enough to realize that she meant no harm by her innocent comment.

It's a good thing my mall purchases consisted of items solely from Sephora. Hopefully Philosophy's "Hope in a Jar" moisturizer and "Hope in a Tube" under eye cream will help this situation of premature aging!

Simplicity

About five years ago I walked into my friend J's apartment and saw a sign hanging in her living room. It was a rustic wooden sign and in a plain font clearly painted across this piece of wood, was this word SIMPLIFY. Boy, what a concept! It became a personal joke between J and I. Because if I were to hang a sign in my house it would read COMPLICATE. It would be mirrored and bedazzled with bows and ribbons hanging off of it. At that time in my life, I didn't simplify. Everything I did had to be grandiose. I'm the kind of girl who thinks about the favors and decorations for a party a year in advance. That's what I mean by complicate. Things weren't usually done spur of the moment or on a simple scale.

Having a baby has changed all of that. I wear sweatpants out in public, and yes, I even wear athletic sneakers with jeans. Gasp. I don't run around crazy cleaning my house, lighting candles and putting out fresh flowers when guests are coming (alright, sometimes I still do), and I even have the furniture in my living room set up in a functional manner. To me, I am living my simplest life yet. I enjoy the simplicity that C has brought to me. Simple love is the best kind of all.

Kids are pretty simple if you think about it. It's the littlest things that make them happy. Being held, being fed, being loved. I can do those things and none of them involve bows or rhinestones.

C's brand new Little Tikes swing is a perfect example of this simple joy. I wish you could have seen her today when I placed her in the seat! She lit up like a Christmas Tree! She was squealing and kicking her legs and she was all smiles. She liked big pushes and she'd shake her head and take a big breath in when the wind would kick up and blow in her face. Oh it was priceless! The simplicity of the swing was exactly was she was up for this afternoon.

I would have run right in and grabbed the video camera, but as you know, I couldn't leave her in the front yard alone. By the time I got her out of the swing, went in the house, got the camera and got her back outside in the swing, the moment was lost. She was back to Little Miss Serious. Oh well. No footage to share the moment. I'll keep that little memory of her first swing ride etched in my mind forever.

As a former teacher, summer has always meant calmness to me. No routine, no schedules, just a whole lot of what I wanted to do - spur of the moment! I'm not sure I'd describe my current life as calm, however, I'm excited about this summer's adventures with little C (her choice, of course). I'm looking forward to whatever the simple days of summer bring, as long as it's WARM.

For My Poppy

Between us there are many miles
But, soon enough, we can share our smiles
Although not physically there, it’s true
My heart has traveled to be with you
May all that’s good come your way
I hope you feel better today.
Love, C

You know what they say,
An apple a day keeps the doctor away!

A Beautiful Day at the Park

Today was, by far, the nicest spring day we've had yet. Unfortunately, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I plodded through my morning routine which consists of me standing outside in my pjs waiting for Q to do his business only to return inside and have him poop on the floor, change C's diaper, clean the floor, change C's diaper, take the puppy outside, you get the picture. It didn't get any better when I got the expected news from my Jenny Craig consultant that I had gained a pound this week. Damn chocolate Easter bunnies! I knew I shouldn't have given myself the privilege to indulge on Easter. It ended up being a three day eating fest. Well not a total eating fest, but the chocolate was calling my name before, during and after Easter, and I was answering.

After C's morning nap we went out for a walk. Things were looking up. I was embracing the sunshine and enjoying the fact that she was enjoying this ride in her stroller, because that is not always the case. As we walked, I was trying to think of something fun that we could do for the afternoon before she needed to take her afternoon nap. There is a very pretty park near our house and I've been wanting to take some outside pictures of C and Q together. This sounded like the perfect, free way to spend this beautiful afternoon - free of calories and cost.

C got dressed up in a pretty white and brown polka dot dress - to match Q's coloring, of course. I loaded the baby in her car seat and the puppy in his crate and we hit the park. It was a bit tricky carrying the puppy in one arm and pushing the stroller through pine cones and needles with the other. I managed to reach my desired location and take some cute shots. My subjects were very cooperative and enthralled by the pine cones and needles. What a great afternoon! And free! I love free things, especially when I really enjoy myself. I couldn't wait to get home and upload the photos to the computer and check them out.

As I schlepped the kids to the car my cell phone started ringing from inside my sweatshirt pocket. I managed to reach in and check the caller ID. It was M, my dear friend and bride to be. Being her matron of honor and knowing that she was at Crate and Barrel registering for plates, I NEEDED to take this call despite the fact that I could barely juggle holding the puppy and pushing the stroller. I mean, this could be a bridal emergency. The call only lasted a few seconds before I lost service. I returned, I thought, my cell phone to my pocket and packed up the kids in the car. We took a leisurely drive to the ATM and then back home again.

It wasn't until I was home for a while that I realized she had never called me back to consult over the seasonal plates. When I went to my pocket to retrieve my phone, guess what? It wasn't there, or in the car, or in the kitchen, or in the pack and play, or the toy box, or outside.

I immediately emailed M, because I do not have a land line, and had her call me. Not a ring to be heard in my house despite her three calls. The phone was gone. I lost my life line. Thoughts were racing through my head - now I can get an iphone!, ugh! now I have to put all the contact information in AGAIN, now I can get an iphone!, where is my pretty eggplant colored phone, now I can get an iphone! Although this was terrible I bet you can tell there was a little bit of excitement over this tragedy.

Then I get another email from M with this subject line SOMEONE HAS YOUR PHONE. Now I feel violated! Someone is holding my purple phone. MY purple phone, in THEIR stranger hands. This is scary. Before I could get the info out to M to NOT give them my address, she gave them my address. Now scary strangers are coming to my house not to bring me my phone but to steal me and C and Q and take us to a strange place. I'm sure of it. Bad people stalk parks and find phones and then do terrible things to their owners. I mean could there really be kind, thoughtful people out there in the world? People who would be willing to help a stranger? No. They are going to kidnap us. I'm scared.

Luckily B, my neighbor, was home and she came and sat with me until the scary people came to return my phone. I waited nervously until the navy blue Honda Accord pulled into my driveway. I peered through the sheer curtains, as if they could not see me, to survey the situation. They look like normal people. Here she comes, up to my door, purple phone in her hand. I go outside and get the phone. Low and behold she was nervous to meet ME and SHE didn't want ME to have her address. Imagine...not having enough faith that I would be normal. The nerve of people...

So it did turn out to be a beautiful day after all. A beautiful photo opportunity, beautiful sunshine and beautiful strangers. My purple phone is home at last sitting beside me on the couch. My life line, returned. Life is good.

Blonde Ambition

Some of us are on meaningful, important quests in life. These quests lead to discoveries, inventions, and ways to make the earth a better place to live. I, on the other hand, am on the quest to find the perfect shade of blonde.

I was born to be a blonde, only my parents and God forgot to give me a blonde gene that would last past the age of 16. Just in time for me to become old enough to drive to the local CVS and buy some L'Oreal dye.

While on the quest for the golden shimmer, I went astray at times and had hair that covered the brown through platinum spectrum. Unfortunately as my highlights got lighter, my natural color got darker and darker. I was at the peak of perfect highlightedness when I got pregnant. Which poses an important decision for a "fake" blonde. I'm sure highlights are fine while pregnant, but since I didn't want to take any risks, I decided to let them "grow out" while I was pregnant.

Do you have any idea how long it takes to grow out any unnatural hair color? Well I can tell you, it's been a year and 8 months and there's still some old blonde hanging around. That was just long enough for me to throw my hands up and give in to the light side. I went in yesterday to begin the process of returning to the golden shimmer. When the stylist showed me the "hair samples" that I have grown so fond of and the words caramel, golden, and honey started rolling off of her tongue, I felt the familiar comfortableness and excitement that you feel when you are about to see an old friend, a me that I recognize and miss.

I should say that there is nothing wrong with beautiful, rich dark hair. I admire it very much - on other people. My daughter has brown hair which encouraged me to embrace my natural side. After much contemplation, I decided that she would agree that mommy looks better with highlights and she'd forgive me.

Besides, it's been a long time since someone has thrown a blonde joke my way. I've come to miss those insulting little buggers. I'll know I've reached the perfect shade when someone has the nerve to tell me a new one.

March 8, 2009

Don't recognize this date, do you? If you have small children I know you are still feeling the effects of this day. I didn't know at the time, but it turns out that March 8, 2009 would be the cause of stress and dark under eye circles. Let me remind you, it was Daylight Savings time. Now I know all the reasons behind the changing of the clocks, and I should mention that I used to enjoy the extra sunlight that this "spring ahead" change granted. However, little C, has not, in the least, adjusted to this new schedule. How does her little body know there's a difference? How in the world is it still effecting her WHOLE day?

At five months I read the sleep books, you know the ones. Dr. Ferber, sound familiar? I kept a log, I did the sleep training thing. I sat with a timer and followed "Progressive Waiting Approach." I toughed out the agony of the crying, all alone. I wrote in C's baby journal all about it. The entry looked like a formal lesson plan for an observation day for crying out loud! I had goals and objectives written for her short term and long term sleep schedules. I took and still take this sleep thing very seriously.

So it comes as no surprise to me that I am absolutely FREAKING OUT over this deviation from our old schedule. I know that kids change all the time and you can't count on the "perfect schedule" because once you have it down, it's bound to change. This is obviously no exception. I just thought after this many weeks we'd be doing better with it. Could it be at only 9 and a half months she's converging her two daytime naps into one? Except that if it's one, it HAS to be longer than one hour.

All the extra sunlight means now is that I'm trying to put C to sleep with a beam of sunlight in my eye. The school aged neighborhood kids are out playing and we're singing "Twinkle, Twinkle." She's been buying the act because she's exhausted from not taking proper naps, but every mother knows that a child that goes to bed at 6:05pm is bound to awake before the sunrises the next morning. Which brings me back to my point that Daylight Savings time was invented to torture parents.

Little Quinn has been sleeping just fine. He's taken up residence in the basement during sleeping hours. I felt terrible putting him down there, but it turns out that he likes his little bachelor pad. The hum of the dehumidifier really does the trick form him. Now if I can only get him to stop peeing in the house...

Dare I say that I slept semi-well last night? My husband ended up working overnight which means I could sprawl out across the bed and I took the scary plunge and turned the baby monitor off. Gasp, I know. Remember, this is a small house. If I can hear the dog whimper from the basement, I can certainly hear baby C from one wall over.

Last year during our first grade grandparents' day social, a parent, Mr. S., stepped right up to my very pregnant belly and said, "Get some sleep now." I've heard people say that your sleep changes once you have a child, but there was something in the urgency of his voice that really struck a cord with me. I did an about face turn and was no longer thinking of the delicious refreshments that I was about to devour, I started becoming increasingly anxious about my future lack of sleep. I think that man cursed me.

Anyway, today I decided that I was in charge (chuckle, chuckle) and that C was going to take two naps. I dusted off the 'ol Ferber book and back to Progressive Waiting we went. I checked in on her after 3 minutes, 7 minutes, 9 minutes and...

I'm happy to report that just almost 30 minutes later, the baby monitor is no longer rattling with the sound of my screaming child. Silent. Asleep, at last. Maybe we are turning a corner here. I think I just might have some laundry, dishes, or dog walking to do. OR I could watch last night's DVRed Medium... I choose the latter.

I am really fearing November 1, 2009. Can you guess what happens on that day? You got it, fall back in time. Oy vey.

Hoppy Easter!

Somebunny has a runny nose...

I can't believe that it only took 9 months 2 weeks and 5 days for me to become "that mom." Our friends A and J had their first child this past week! Little baby L! He's just 3 days old. I wanted to stop by and bring them a gift for the baby, but then I remembered back to when C was born and it was great when friends dropped off dinner. So after getting little baby L a storybook, because I believe in literacy, I hit the Ravioli Shop to grab dinner for A and J. A box of 5 cheese ravioli, a container of vodka sauce and a fresh baked loaf of semolina bread, delicious.

I pulled up to A and J's house, unannounced, because I am only dropping off dinner. I was so happy to see the car in the driveway and find out that they were home. ONLY as I was gathering my bags of goodies from the car and schleping them to the front door, I looked at little C and the boogers coming from her nose. How can it be that I've turned into that mom that's about to bring her snotty child into the home of a newborn??? I can't believe this. I would have died if someone entered my home 9 months 2 weeks and 5 days ago with a runny nosed almost toddler. Gasp! What do I do now? Well, I'll be honest - as if they won't be able to tell for themselves that C isn't feeling her best. It's amazing how you learn to dismiss the common cold so quickly. As A opened the door I announced that C had a runny nose and I promised I wouldn't stay long or bring her near the baby. Luckily, A is great with babes and he gladly played and held little C so I could go upstairs and congratulate J and marvel at beautiful baby L.

C successfully never went on the same floor as the baby and I made sure to wash my hands before even entering the nursery. And as for my earlier comment about "dismissing the common cold," that comes after a visit to the doctor yesterday and a $20 copay. I guess that's the going rate for the piece of mind that your child is just fine.

Sharing Time

I'm beginning to realize that I blog because I'm the kind of person who likes to share. I think that's why I loved teaching first grade. First graders LOVE to share. They love to share everything and anything. From a new sibling to slivers to snacks to birthdays. A first grader will start telling you about their birthday 364 days before it's going to happen. It will continue with a daily countdown :)

First graders also love when adults share too. The difference being that an adult elaborates on their sharing. Sometimes too much so, and the kids' attention is totally lost. So for the sake of time, C's nap is almost over, I'm going to share today as if I were a first grader.

This is my Easter bread recipe that I got from my mom and I like it.

1 package dry yeast
1/4 cup luke warm water
3/4 cup scalded milk
1 package lemon instant pudding
1 stick margarine or butter
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 - 4 1/2 cups flour
2 eggs beaten

METHOD

Put butter, pudding, and salt in bowl. Add milk. Stir until butter melts. Let cool. Add 1 1/2 cups flour. Stir in yeast (diluted in the 1/4 cup luke warm water) and 2 beaten eggs to cooled mixture. Use electric mixer to beat until smooth. Add remaining flour (a little at a time to work it in). Put dough on floured table and knead until soft not sticky (8-10 minutes). Wash and dry bowl and butter it on the bottom and sides. Put dough in the bowl and turn upside down 2 times (perhaps to butter the dough?). Cover the bowl with a towel and place on the counter to rise for 1 1/2 hours. Punch the dough down after this time and let rise another hour. Separate dough into three equal parts. Make strips out of each section and braid together. Let stand on greased cookie sheet for 15 minutes covered. Bake on 350 degrees for about 30-40 minutes or until golden brown. Enjoy and Happy Easter!

If Only...

It didn't snow in APRIL!

Fin could see this.

This gate weren't in our way.

I could sleep this soundly.

New Life

My babies keep me busy. I have an even higher level of respect for parents who successfully managed to stay alive while raising multiples. I mean, how do you do this with more than one human baby at a time? I'm running circles caring for and tending to the needs of one human and one canine, I can't even imagine if they were both human...

Today I left C, for the first time, with our babysitter (who is now on my favorite person list)for a couple of hours. Are you thinking I went to the spa, or hung out at a fancy coffee shop chatting it up with some friends? Think again. I had a cavity (6 months overdue) filled and my teeth cleaned. I feel like a new woman. I have to admit though, I had 34 minutes to spare after the appointment so I did dart (literally ran through the parking lot) into Marshalls and shopped like I was a part of one of those "fill your cart in one minute" game shows. I grabbed everything I thought that I (and C) would like and paid. What a rush. A complete high. The shopping trip coupled with my clean teeth - I feel like I can conquer the world. I might even be awake for American Idol tonight, that's how pumped I am.

I'm overwhelmed with just how precious new life is. My daughter, she's just plain amazing to me, and I can't imagine my life without her. I near cried when I got home from my afternoon out. When she saw me, her face lit up and she smiled from ear to ear. I purposefully stayed at the doorway to the living room and let her stare at me in awe. If she could talk I know she would have said, "Mommy! I'm so happy to see you! I was wondering where you were." Her body language said what she was thinking. She automatically plopped onto her belly from her sitting position and used all of her strength to slither/army crawl/pull/push herself towards me. I wanted to hug her and hold her so bad, but I was patient and I waited for her to make it all the way to me. Holding her on my lap was perfect. Marshalls was fun and my teeth feel great, but having her in my arms is always the best part of my day.

Are you wondering about little Quinn? That guy might as well be a piranha! Holy macaroni, those teeth are like razors! If you could see through my windows I bet you would think my floors are on fire. I'm hopping all over the place trying to get my slippers, shoes, socks, and pant legs free from his amazingly strong jaws. His head is no bigger than a grapefruit, but man, those jaws have some serious power. Which brings me to my next challenge. Q and C CANNOT be on the floor together at the same time. No way Jose. This has led to the discovery of my new talent! Uncovering new talents makes me feel so proud :) Well, I'M pretty good at being a human gate and providing an adequate barrier between the two of them! Good thing my living room is tiny because I'm only 5'2". So if I strategically place my head near the couch and my feet at the base of the coffee table (which is really one of those leather trunk things, but it basically is just a fireplace blocker now) I can separate the living room into two parts: one for C and one for Q! Perfect...until one of them learns how to jump hurdles...

It's been really fun to watch Quinn explore and discover new things on his second day with us. Today he found the infamous Mr. Potato Head. It was bittersweet to see Mr. PH back in action...

Sleep Tight, Little Ones

Sleep. What parent really needs that anyway? I mean seriously, I'm ashamed of all the times I dragged myself into school, DD coffee hanging from my lips, LL Bean monogrammed tote bag in tow, whining about how tired I was. What a wimp! Parents are like superheros. I needed to become one (a parent that is) to truly appreciate the strength of the human body.

So last night went PRETTY good! Quinn started off in his "oh so comfy" new crate in the living room. He was exhausted from his day so he was out like a light in no time at all. 9:00pm and the house was quiet. C, sound asleep for two hours now, Q, off in dreamland, husband lightly snoring by 9:01 and mommy - awake.

Story of my life. I was past exhaustion, but up and worrying about how many times each little one would wake me throughout the night. It must have been somewhere around 10pm when the exhaustion took over and I finally drifted off to sleep. 11:00pm, C needs a new diaper, a binky, and a whirl on the 'ol mobile.

11:44pm, Quinn beqins crying. As promised, my husband, A, got himself out of bed and headed downstairs to see what was up. Now, I too got up to check on my four legged baby, but NOT to take him out.

Gotta love husbands. There's mine in his PJ pants, no shirt, shoes and a jacket. We've been working for, oh, maybe 10 years now, on possibly being prepared and ready for situations. Going out to walk a dog in upstate New York in PJ pants and a jacket in April isn't going to work. I mean you'd only be able to stay out there for a few minutes before you realized you were, um, let's say, COLD. Those few minutes would not be enough for a new puppy to do ALL of his biz-nass. After they went out, we played with him to "tire him out" for a bit.

Ya know, as I think about it, maybe sleep is important because even though these events took place less than 12 hours ago, I can't quite recall the exact series of them! I may have to edit this later or tomorrow once I can consult with A, my partner in parenting crime.

Anyway, stay focused Christie. There was poop somewhere in the night. This poop led me to be doing laundry at some ungodly hour of the morning and Q's big move to the "not so comfy" big wire crate in the basement. I gave him a quilt and a rope toy and turned on the dryer. He cried for a bit but then he was out. I know I mentioned in an earlier post that our house was small. Just to give you a little more insight, it's so small, that Q's helpless whimpering was heard from the basement as loudly as if he were in bed with me. As promised, A walked him before he went to work, around 5am and Q drifted back off to dreamland until I went down to get him at 7am. Not too bad of a night! Oh, let's not forget C's bottle at 4:45am either.

I have to say, it's awfully nice to have somebody sitting between my ankles when I wash dishes and chase my feet around while I do my mommy chores in the kitchen. I've never known anyone who thought sponge mopping the floor was such a hoot! I've successfully done some housework and put C down for her morning nap. I'm rethinking the whole "shower at the gym" thing. I was never into it, but now that the opportunity is lost for this morning and I'm thinking a shower isn't happening until late tonight, I might be packing a towel and some soap with my ipod tomorrow.

The three of us will make our first trip to the vet this afternoon. I can't wait for Dr. M to meet our new little guy. Our last interaction was on Fin's last day and let's just say, it wasn't a good visit.

Did I mention that I went to the post office, PetCo, and was running on the treadmill at the gym by 9:30am? Go ahead, you can ask. I was wondering too. Do you think LL Bean makes monogrammed capes? It's all the fashion rage among superheros :) Maybe you already have one...

Introducing...

Quincy Finster Cambio

"Quinn" was born February 5, 2009. He's 11 inches high and 15 inches long. He already weighs 14.4 pounds. I think we just may have another Finny on our hands!

What a day!

Fin's Favorites

As I sit here watching Elmo's World: Babies, Dogs & More, I can't help but think how much easier it would be to just have little Fin back. I'm really excited to meet our new baby, but boy am I worried about my sleep...

Anybody who knew Fin will get a smile and maybe a few tears out of remembering a few of his favorite things.

Tennis ball on a rope, peanut butter, sleeping, a fluffy bed, the couch, laying in the sunshine, sitting in the breezeway watching for A’s car or sitting on the deck in CT, playing with his daddy, tossing and fetching his ball (3 passes, max), going for long car rides, sitting/laying on the patio lounge chairs in the spring/summer, putting his face in the snow, dunking his head in a big bowl of water, laying under the dining table waiting for scraps, being scratched under his collar, belly rubs, the hair dryer, treats, his bone filled with peanut butter or the kong (when he was younger), his family – including his sister C, laying behind the gate in Grandma and Grandpa’s living room, his home in Connecticut, going in the woods in CT, sleeping under grandpa’s desk, eating grandma’s sauce and parmesan cheese on his food, noni’s food scraps on holidays, laying belly down on cold tile floors, sniffing and licking little kids (especially baby feet and hands), laying under our desk, crawling under the futon, licking dishes with people food clean, cheese, his family…

Is it weird that those are some of my favorite things too?

The Fence

Did I mention it was successfully installed on Tuesday? A smile :) and a wink ;), that's all I have to say...

Preparing For Puppy

So this morning, in the pouring rain, C and I hit PetCo. I have to say, I wasn't very impressed with our local PetCo. The service wasn't that great and they didn't seem to have a lot of "stuff." We managed to get our little puppy all of his necessities. A crate, food, toys, dishes, a place mat, a collar and a name tag. Do you know that they make puppy Kong Binkies? Too stinkin' cute. We picked him up a blue one.

Of course, C chewed all the chew toys as I put them in the shopping cart. Hey, if they are good enough for her then they'll be great for him! I took pictures of the baby every step of the way. I want her to look back and remember that she helped get ready for the little guy.

We've decided to take him home with us this weekend if all goes well with the visit on Sunday. There's no point in waiting until next week and driving the two and a half hours to the breeders again. I called the vet and booked his new puppy appointment for Monday afternoon!

I thought we had his name picked out and then my dad went and threw us a curve ball this past weekend. My husband and I thought it over and apparently we've decided on the name my dad picked! I found this out because my husband downloaded and saved a picture of the puppy onto the desktop and he named it by his name! It's official because I had it engraved on his tag. The nickname is what was really important to us. Both the original name and the new name can have the same nickname. Naming dogs and children is a stressful process but when you've made the final decision, it seems like it's been the right choice all along. I can't wait to hear it start rolling off my tongue!

We hadn't heard back from the breeder for a few days. We were waiting for her address and we both started getting nervous that maybe she sold him to someone else. He already feels like part of our family. We just need him under our roof to make it official. She said that he's doing really well with is potty training. That's a plus! Imagine if he's fully trained by Sunday...That would be amazing!

C is cruising the house these days. She was all over the kitchen floor this afternoon. I can already see that she's probably going to take a bath in the puppy's water dish by early next week. It's a good thing she's not into Cheerios yet, or I'd have to worry about her trying to eat his food too!

I can't wait to take pictures of her with the pup on Sunday. I'll be sure to post those. She'll surely be wearing her new t-shirt from Cafe Press. It says Hello Bulldog on the front - a spoof on Hello Kitty. Too cute.