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!