Bipolar Biproxy

I never learn my lesson about waxing poetic about joy and love on here, do I? one day after my last post Dave stepped on a rusty nail and has been in the hospital for five days. They finally have the infection retreating, and he has regained movement on two toes. My electric in the kitchen blew the day he went to the hospital, too.  And this was his busiest (and bet paid) week of work that he now missed, so we are down $700 of pay and have incurred hundreds of dollars of more expenses, I was terrified he was going to lose his foot (he isn't) and my kids have stayed with my parents since Sunday morning so I could still go to work and visit Dave a couple times a day.

He should be fine.  With the tides turning today it looks like he might be able to come home tomorrow to complete his recovery.  

But, this time apart has made me more grateful than ever for my awesome family.  I apologized to Analise on Sunday for being grumpy all day and she said "Its ok Mom, even when you are grumpy you are still pretty great." Gus has learned to count to 15 and hasn't had a potty accident in three days. Dave will get better, it is just going to take time.  An electrician from my church came out and fixed my electric problem before my food spoiled, which was excellent, too.

Yes, we faced another ridiculously awful situation.  But this time I totally remembered to see the good stuff and the kindness of people instead of focusing on the negative.

I've read three books in ten days thanks to having a Kindle.  I am so in love with reading, always have been, but I was horrible at returning books to the library on time and it would make me not want to go to the library at all.  Plus our library here isn't nearly as awesome as our Illinois libraries, which makes me sad and also a little lost as to how to make them super fun for the kids when they are used to puppets and games and puzzles.

Anyway, I read The Dubliners, Water for Elephants and The Pilot's Wife.  Now I am reading a David Sedaris Book and am already 30% done with it.  I stay up too late reading, but I also take my Kindle to the gym and read it while I run.  It keeps me running for longer and at a better pace because I don't look at the screen of the treadmill and I just keep going.  My only issue is that I can't gage how long a waiting list will be, so I have put myself on waiting lists for several books and when they are available I feel pressure to finish the one I am reading quickly so I don't run out of time to pick up the next one.  Isn't that a first world problem?  I've read eight books in 2012, though, which is a real high number for my post baby self.  I used to read at least a book or two a week without even thinking about it; my favorite part of getting a new roommate was the new book collection I could scam for a while. I thought I would hate e-reading because of the damage it does to the library system paired with my love of old book smell, but I think my love of reading constantly trumps those other fears and loves.

PS Having a husband who gets me rocks.  He doesn't need to spend money on me, really he doesn't.  But the fact that when he does he does it so right just makes me melt.

I love May Day basket giving, and I am so stoked to finally live in a neighborhood where the kids can actually do the whole drop a basket on the porch, ring the doorbell and run away thing.  We are going to include notes that say who the basket is from because no one else in the neighborhood (at least not yet) do May Day drops. Every time I show my kids something from my childhood that I remember fondly I get excited.  When they embrace the tradition and want to live it out on their own terms I get even more happy!  Making the baskets tonight, filling them and doing the drops on Sunday.  I know i am more excited than the kids, but this is seriously one of my most favorite ways to teach the power of random acts of kindness.  Who doesn't like to answer the door to find an anonymous bunch of flowers in a home made paper basket hanging from their door knob? 

I have whole posts brewing around these topics, but for now I just need to vent them

1. No one should be famous for putting their young child on a diet that was based on whimsy instead of science.  And when that young child is called out in front of their peers to remember their diet, forced to skip dinner because she had treats with her peers at school, and now featured in magazines and across the interwebs, she becomes so conscious of her outsides that the value of her personhood is immediately placed secondary in importance.  Weight is a real issue, childhood obesity is a real issue.  If you are a concerned parent you research, you follow protocol regarding not embarrassing your child in public, and you work as a team to tackle the weight issue as part of gaining health.  I try not to judge parental decisions outside of my own (goodness knows I spend enough time criticizing myself to leave little time to criticize others) but this is ludicrous and damaging and I want to start saving money for this child's therapy bills.

2. Smear campaigns against dead children.  Seriously? What the fuck world.  You don't have to be a perfect person to deserve justice.  If we lived in a parallel universe where we were given the right to shoot people based on their transgressions instead of giving them over to law officials, if we were in a society that allowed vigilante justice, this case would still go against the grain. This smear campaign is happening after the child was shot.  Did Zimmerman pull a Dexter and research Trayvon thoroughly, determine without a shadow of a doubt that he would cause continued harm to society if allowed to live? No.  He saw a teenager in his neighborhood and shot him.  Even if the physical altercation happened exactly how he says (which I do not buy at all) dehumanizing a murder victim to make your actions justified is disgusting.  Accidentally run over Ted Bundy then find out post-mortem that he was a serial killer? Yeah, that would probably make you feel less guilty about accidental death.  Knowingly, not accidentally, killing a child then searching his life for signs that somehow you were doing the world a favor because he wasn't that good of a person anyway? Few actions could be more despicable in my opinion.

3. Detroit is in financial stress.  Regardless of whether we need a financial take over someone needs to address the State of Michigan's role regarding revenue sharing.  The State pays its bills late, the city foots the bills to maintain services.  Having the Governor call out a city for reckless financial stewardship but not acknowledge that the state has not paid its bills to Detroit in years and owes the city millions of dollars is backwards.  The state wants to take over our finances but doesn't have the financial capacity to maintain payments to the municipalities that depend on that revenue? If an employer doesn't pay its employees significant sums of money for significant periods of time, the employee defaults on their mortgage and stops paying tuition at their child's school in order to feed their family while waiting to get paid, would it make sense to have the employer then take over the entire financial life of the employee and manage their decisions? I think I would rather have someone that wasn't at least partially responsible for my economic demise be in charge of helping me get out of it.

That's all.  I could be a lot more thoughtful and thorough, but sometimes just airing frustrations helps me see past my own thoughts.

We had Gus dedicated this weekend.  It was a wonderful experience, but also very different than Analise's dedication.  He was the only child dedicated, he was older than she was, and we had over 20 friends and family members come to celebrate with us.  I loved both experiences for such different reasons.  Analise's celebrated our church committee, the community who helped us successfully stay pregnant and drove us home from the hospital and gave us meals and babysitting. Dora and Norman were there, two dear friends who, two years later, would be the constant support we needed when we were pregnant with Gus.  Small and intimate, it made perfect sense for Analise.  We live surrounded by family now, A place where tens of people jump up and offer to help if we face an emergency.  We added a part to the service celebrating this extended family in addition to the usual, and it just felt so right to honor this new chapter of our lives in this way.  

Gus was a rock star during the service, so cute and funny.  When Reverend Shelley asked him if he would try hard to make good choices he looked towards the sky and tapped his finger on his chin, so precious.  Analise was asked to do the Chalice lighting prayer, the act which officially begins the service.  She jumped right up to the alter, smiled widely, and stated her simple prayer with the motions perfectly.  this was the first UU experience for most of my family, and i think Analise standing up there and saying "We are Unitarian Universalists, the people with open minds, kind hearts and giving hands" put everyone at ease that they weren't secretly in a cultish place.  

Afterwards everyone came together at my parents house for food and fellowship, the kids played well throughout, and everyone had fun.  I love this so much, being able to throw a party and be surrounded by love in a matter of moments.  I never realized how much I missed this while we were gone, the lengths we went to as a family to create the bonds with neighbors and friends.  When we left the city for the suburbs, or more accurately when we wed so young and became parents, we lost a lot of the bonds that held our lives together.  But Sunday, bringing together 15 family members and 10 friends to celebrate Gus i realized that we have knit together a community here, not just the 'cant say no because we are related' kind, but a rich fabric of love and support from friends, family and church.  It feels good to make this realization.

I recently found a blog, flourish in progress, and i am completely in love with the concept.  The writer chooses a new resolution each week and blogs about her reasoning, success and failures.  Since moving to Michigan I have been really good at taking control of my weaknesses.  I stopped using the phrase 'well, I have kids' as a reason to not do the right thing about every part of my life other than motherhood.  I am so proud of the mom I am, I am proud of the food choices we make most of the time, I am proud of how much they trust us and our relationship, I love that Lise already tests out complex ideas with me, sounds out how she feels regarding teasing or fitting in, asks questions about how the world works, etc.  But I was awful at taking care of myself for years.  YEARS.  The motherhood years in Chicago we're constantly full of caring about nothing other than raising good human beings, keeping my husband happy and satisfied, and using every ounce of me to keep our entire familial universe floating.  For a while, and in some ways now, it was necessary.  When Lise was sick, when the kids were infants, when Dave had issues, when we depend on only my income (90% of the time), it was easy to take this pieces of life and feel accomplished and satisfied with life because our kids were having a happy existence, our marriage was (mostly most of the time) flourishing, and everyone was keeping it together.  But i cried at night over the finances I couldn't get a handle on.  I took food donations at times because i needed to.  I shelved all personal ambition to be anything other than super hero of Schroeder-Land.  

Super hero if Schroeder-Land is great, I still want to be that.  But I also want to be that while remembering that I, too, am a human being.  This isn't a moment of wishing I was more than a mom.  Its more like, I can still make motherhood and family the core of my existence and allow myself a guilt-free hour to run a few times a week, or to TMI shit the bathroom door when I need to, and lock it now that the kids can open doors.  So last fall I gave up my greatest personal vice, the thing I did when I snuck away for a few seconds of alone time hidden outside our house literally standing behind a shrub. I replaced it with running. I justified the time as taking all the two minute breaks of the week and shoving them together, then dividing the total time by the three runs I did a week.  Yes, I did the math- not because anyone cares but because I am neurotic about granting myself permission for anything other than the required minimum.  Stopping a vice that was killing me and replacing it with a vice that was empowering me felt awesome, but the guilt level was the same, this time not about the time I was depriving my kids by early death, but the immediate time I was depriving them by being alone.

When the kids were fighting pneumonia, strep and ear infections December/January I barely made it to the gym and I felt the difference in my body.  My husband is just as committed to getting me out of the house as I am to excusing myself out of taking me time.  Thankfully he is more persistent than me and I am running again, a lot, and loving it.

Back to the beginning, I found a blog called flourish in progress and I fell in love with the idea of small step goals.  Feeling empowered by the changes I have made since moving (seeing friends at least 3 times a month, exercising alone at least 3 times a week, not eating fast food and not smoking), I decided to emulate this blog. Two weeks ago I started taking 15 minutes out of my lunch hour and walking the stairs in my building, going up to 36 from 30, then walking all the way to the lobby.  This week I started drinking 24 ounces of water before I did anything else in the morning, before I consumed coffee or showered, ANYTHING.   I feel wonderful.  These changes are small, but are becoming habitual, and the best part is I haven't had to negotiate my totally over the top and completely unnecessary guilt over taking me time. I am trying to come up with next week's goals.

The thing of this is that I had to figure out that for me it wasn't reclaiming time for myself.  I am not taking better care of myself so I can be a better mom.  I wasnt trying to identify with myself as someone outside of motherhood, and I finally realized it is completely ok to define myself by being a kick ass mom.  I hate the phrase 'more than just a mom' equally with the phrase 'just a mom is enough'. I don't identify with either line of thought, and i feel trapped in that dichotomous view of parenting.  How about I am just Sarah Schroeder, mom of two awesome kids so full of grace and humanity I am honored to guide them through life, woman capable of running 6 very slow miles at a time when I get out the door or spending an hour curling my hair with no where to go or spending hours laughing with girlfriends about the good old days while simultaneously realizing that the todays are awesome too, and sometimes graceful enough to know which one of the above needs to take the helm at the moment to create an enriching life for everyone in Schroeder-Land.

Next week I think I will start writing a page of my next novel each morning before I jump into real work at the office instead of reading my blog roll.  Maybe starting my own writing that early will be a better writers block buster for my work than reading the words of others.

My life has been busy but boring, and when I look at the archive on this journal it seems like I only blog once every week or two, which I need to change so that the kids have a better childhood book of memories.  I am an awful photographer, I have to have something to share with them when they get older!

Gus is a pensive little guy.  He will rarely babble on and on.  Instead, he waits, tugs at your sleeve, then belts out a 2-5 sentence thought that rocks you back for a moment. It seems like he lets his sister do the talking about the day to day stuff, but has a ton to say when he has a chance to explain plot lines or feelings or ideas for play.  He has the most adorable run I have ever seen in my life, it is sort of a toddle of desperation to be the fast gazelle he pictures himself to be in his mind.  This almost makes up for the fact that he has decided to stop potty training completely, and instead sneaks into his room and puts his big boy underpants on over his pull ups and says that is good enough.  I guess the only joy of potty training he can see is wearing cool underpants with thomas the tank engine on them.  Oh well, he isn't even three yet so there is no need to rush.

Analise announced that she wants to be an actress when she grows up.  While I think this is adorable and swell, and I see her test out both acting and directing approximately 2309234 times a day, I hope this is a phase.  Most kids change their minds every other day about their future, so I remain hopeful.  She would be a great actress, she can fake crying and evoke sympathy and empathy quickly with friends and strangers alike, but I still want her to be an accountant or something.  Anything that yields dependable pay and job stability. She is brilliant and funny, poignant and smart.  She drew a family portrait yesterday in which she was the center of the picture, taking up the entire page lengthwise with her arms and height wise with her arms.  Each member of the family was about two inches tall and perched all around her.  Everyone had hair and fingers drawn.  Drawing from my art therapy courses of ten years ago I guess this means she feels supported by everyone in her family, like she gets to be the center of attention, and that she has control (the fingers indicate this) over her life and surroundings.  I know have the drawing tacked up at work to remind me that even though the days are long here sometimes, she is thriving.

Gus decided to play blues clues yesterday, and at 2.5 years old he drew blue's paw prints perfectly with perfect circles in perfect placements.  He asked Dave to cut them out, then they made a handy dandy notebook.  We spent an hour each taking turns setting up the clues, with Dave and I switching off on who was 'pal' and who was Steve. The kids were Blue and Magenta, and all of us set up the clues for a new puzzle.  My brilliant son was so excited that we all played and executed his fantasy plan for the evening that he hugged and kissed each of us profusely before bed.  

A long time ago my lovely friend Dora told me that her mom called me a "natural mother".  Natural at mothering was the height of compliments then, and as I grow into my role as mother I pull that scene into my brain and relive the moment of happiness I felt when  a mom of a 16 month old and secretly pregnant with a new one someone took me for being natural in my parenting.  It reminds me that I can do this, even when life is hard.  I write about the good stuff because that is the easy parts to share, the parts I want to celebrate and scream out from the mountains and most of all remember.  The other stuff, the IEPs and the delays and the teasing, the fears and the not being able to sleep in my own bed with my husband alone more than 4 days in a row, those are all important too.  I guess I just like to be able to flip through this journal and be able to remind myself of these awesome snippets of life that can remain imprinted in my mind forever because of this space.  That's why i need to write more.

Do you ever wonder how the first person who spoke a cliche felt?  The first person who said my heart is bursting?  Sometimes I utter cliches and think that I must feel exactly like the person who first uttered those words, like the dull ache of fullness in my heart during story time, or the slow burn of protection I feel when I watch my kids navigate a complex social situation for the first time.  I wonder, sometimes we say things because we feel we are supposed to say them, other times I am convinced that the epic pounding of blood through my veins as I face a new situation has to mirror exactly the first utterer's.

My children have good days and bad days, but most of the time they are beyond words in their goodness and richness and love.  Last night Gus fell off the bed during story time and Analise gave him her prized teddy bear she has slept with every night for several years.  She spoke of the magic power of healing he possesses, and how Gus could borrow it until he felt the magic and all his boo boos went away.  She felt sad that her school only has two buddy book bags (book plus matching character to take home and play with) for all the kids to share so she took it on herself to create ten more from her own stash at home and asked us if she could take them to school to share.

A few nights ago Analise said she was going to run away and hide because Dave and I were going out on a date instead of staying home to play.  My usually silent and stoic two year old Gus said, "Don't hide Lise, I love you.  I your brother.  We your family."  Gus is working really hard to potty train, and has been in real underpants for four days.  Yesterday he had an accident and came up to me, saying "I made Thomas sad, I peed on him.  Change me please? It OK, I do better next time." Last night we were goofing around before bed time, jumping on the bed (yes, I said it was OK because I was jumping too) and singing songs.  Gus laughed so hard he could barely breath, then collapsed in a fit of giggles and said "Love you, love this." 

Whenever I spend time with my children I feel like life cannot get any better.  Even when they are cranky or ornery or fussy, they give these glimpses into the absolute spell binding amazing-ness of their personalities and I am so thankful I am their mom.  Every night during bed time we read four stories, then before songs I comically stop myself as if I am remembering something really important, then say "I have to tell you three REALLY important things.  I am the luckiest mom in the world because Analise is my daughter and Gus is my son.  Number two, my heart is full every time I see how amazing you two are, and number three please know momma is trying every day to be the best mommy I can be to make sure you guys have awesome days and nights and everything because I one you more than moonbeams and sunshine." Last night Gus piped in "I love you this much" and did the kid classic spread your arms as far as they will go.  Analise told me she needed to say three things, too, and proceeded to tell me she was the luckiest kid in the whole world because Dave and I are her parents, Gus is her brother, and she loves going to school and learning.  

Things with the rest of my life are a mixed bag, as usual.  Dave now has more secured investors in his project and his salary still looks to be right around the corner.  My job is touch and go as far as stability.  My volunteer work at the new street newspaper is fulfilling and exciting and my running is soaring to new heights.  It is hard to feel less than blessed with the life we are living right now.  I would love to find financial security in this lifetime, but mostly I just want to retire all of our debts so that we don't saddle the kids with that challenge when we leave this world.  I feel like money stress is just something I don't have time for anymore.  My church helps me when I need it, the house owner is flexible on payments and easy to please, and our income is stable, at least for now.  Today is a day where I feel like my perspective makes sense, and is focused on the right parts of life.

Seven Years.  Seriously, how does it feel like yesterday that I made Dave a cross-stitched pillow that said first of forever for our anniversary and we are now looking squarely at 7 years Saturday?  Amazing.  Amazing that our love rocks the house off still, amazing that we have grown into each other instead of away from each other.  Amazing that he became the kind of father that makes other people's children gravitate towards him, the kind of man other women are pulled to, and the one man I am lucky enough to share my life with forever.  I always thought the magic dissipates after a while. It definitely ebbs and flows, but it never really left us at all.

We are going to see American Idiot tonight thanks to a last minute gift of a friend with tickets they cant use.  Green Day Rock Opera? Yes please.

Year 7 of the same survey.... originally stolen from Doraphilia

1) Was 2011 a good year for you? 
Yes!  Moving to Michigan, connecting with family, moving forward with Dave's family, everything just sort of worked out.  Gus has made such huge progress in his speech and comprehension, Analise has excelled in school, and Dave has a career in theater again.  Everything that I have ever wanted (except financial security) has come to fruition this year. 

2) What was your favorite moment of the year? 
There are so many to choose from.  What is jumping out at me now is the first time I eavesdropped on Analise comforting Gus using the words, gestures and hugs that I use with them.  Seeing a child emulate you can be scary (if they pick your weak moments) or truly sensation, like that was.

3) What was your least favorite moment of the year? 
Sitting in at a Board meeting where someone questioned loudly and fiercely if I was doing an adequate job, or if I should be terminated.  That moment will live on for a long time.

4) Where were you when 2011 began? 
We were living in Palatine, but I have no clue what we did.  I know we made a family wooden frame that was supposed to house our new years resolutions, but it became Gus' favorite thing and now holds a photo of all his cousins.

5) Who were you with? 
My loving and awesome husband Dave, I am sure

6) Where will you be when 2011 ends?  
Not sure yet.  We might still be in St. Louis, we might be home.  I don't think we are going to do anything, though, because finances are extremely tight.

7) Who will you be with when 2011 ends? 
My amazing and wonderful husband and potentially my children, but I hope they are sleeping

8) What did you do in 2011 that you'd never done before? 
Lived in Michigan as a grown up with a family of my own, shared my immediate family more extensively with my extended family, and enrolled one of my children into special education. 

9) Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year? 
My resolutions were to teach my kids about 3 new spiritual traditions, but we changed focus on instead taught them about significant Jewish holidays.  I think it went well, but I could have done a lot better.  I also wanted to go out on dates with my husband at least 7 times this year, and we doubled that!  Next year I want to run a 1/2 marathon.  I also want to play mindfully with my kids in engaging ways every day.

10) Did anyone close to you give birth? 
My sister Bonnie had her second child, Carson

11) Did anyone close to you die? 
Not terribly close, no.

12) Did you travel outside of the US in 2011? 
Nope 

13) How many different states did you travel to in 2011? 
Missouri, Michigan, West Virginia, South Carolina, California

14) What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
Peace with myself and my short comings.

15) What date(s) from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
March 21, moving to Michigan.  October 3, Lise's first day of school, May 30, Gus' huge 2nd birthday bash

16) What was your biggest achievement of the year? 
I have gotten at least 20 minutes of cardio in at least 5 times a week, every week, except when I was severely ill.

17) What was your biggest failure? 
Right now I feel like my job is a total bust, but that is probably more related to the most recently board meeting than to my actual performance

18) Did you suffer any illness or injury? 
Yes, but I am not ready to talk about it yet

19) What was the best thing you bought? 
A sand and water table for our deck.  The kids thought it was the bees knees and played with it every day for months

20) Whose behavior merited celebration? 
The Arab Spring protesters.  We should all learn something from this amazing year.

21) Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? 
Governor Snyder, who chopped off Foster Care funding for Michigan Residents and is making it near impossible for these kids to now find placements.

22) Where did most of your money go? 
Health care and health related debt, the same as the last four plus years. 

23) What did you get really, really, really excited about? 
Moving!  Changing our lives, starting a new job, Dave getting his career back, learning to tile my own kitchen 

24) What song will always remind you of 2011? 
"the children work with 1 hammer" a song Lise learned in school.  No matter how foul her mood is, if you ask her to sing it she will get up and sing loudly, do the movements, and fall over laughing at the end

25) Compared to this time last year, are you: 
i. happier or sadder? 
HAPPIER 
ii. thinner or fatter? 
about the same, always varying by 10-30 pounds gained and lost every few months
richer or poorer? 
I dont think I will ever be either

26) What do you wish you'd done more of? 
Sex.  Seriously, we are so good at it why not do it more?

27) What do you wish you'd done less of? 
Navigating the complexities of sharing my life and children with so many more people (I need to just let go and let life, you know?)

28) How will you be spending Christmas? 
Just the four of us!  Even though we live surrounded by family I really want to keep the tradition alive of doing our own thing.  We are moving everything up by one day, though, so we can get to STL earlier.  

29-36 were removed for being completely unrelated to my life anymore

37) Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? 
Nope 

38) Did you make any new friends in 2011? 
Not really, although I feel a lot closer to my cousin Kenny's new wife Kate

39) Who are your favorite new friends? 
Someday I will make so many new friends this question will be impossible to answer... or not!

40) What was your favorite month of 2011? 
June.  We were settled in, went to the zoo nearly every weekend, played at the beach, and just enjoyed the hell out of each other 

41) Did you miss anybody in the past year? 
I miss Chicago and its people, although the last couple years we were there I felt really disconnected from the people I cared most about 

42) Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year? 
I am sort of ashamed of the Good Morning America thing.  Although I didn't realize what I was getting into at the time, I wish I hadn't exposed my children, especially Analise and her health history, in that public way 

43) What was the worst lie someone told you in 2011? 
You have a couple years to get this place running smoothly, slow down and take your time 

44) Did you treat somebody badly in 2011? 
I wish I could say I didn't, but I am sure I did.


45) Did somebody treat you badly in 2011? 
I was pretty hard on myself

46) What was your proudest moment of 2011?
Making our marriage a priority again by increasing our date nights, talking deeply to each other, and giving Dave the attention and love he deserves.

47) What was your most embarrassing moment of 2011? 
My foot odor issue was so out of hand that I had to close my office door and pretend I was on a phone conference because I couldn't get the smell to lighten up.

48) What was your greatest musical discovery?
I love the Shel Silverstein tribute album put together by Bobby Bare Jr. and Sr., it rocks

49) What did you want and get?
a move to be closer to family, a house with a yard

50) What did you want and not get?
stability in my job and financial security

51) What was your favorite new film of this year?
Ides of March, although I think I am the only person in the world that loved it

52) What was your favorite TV program? 
Dave and I started watching Mad Men and I am sort of hooked

53) What was your favorite record from 2011?  
Still our family mix.  We listen to that CD all the time.  For newbies, this is a CD that Dave made me for our second date, which was also the night we decided to get married.  It was playing in the room for the birth of both of my children, on the car trip to Michigan, on the CD player while unpacking our house, every time an important moment happened.

54) How many concerts did you see in 2011?
None, again, 

55) Did you have a favorite concert in 2011? 
Did not go to any 


56) did you drink a lot of alcohol in 2010? 
Not at all.  When we first moved here we saw that everyone at every party here drinks so much more than we are accustomed to, and  was offered alcohol all the time at dinners or visits.  I realized I was drinking too much, though, and have since stopped accepting drink offers.

57) did you do a lot of drugs in 2011? 
nope, never, not a single one. 

58) What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 30 and took the kids to meet Santa, then went to lunch with my Mom.  My parents watched the kids overnight so Dave and I could have some naked cuddle time and go to a grown up restaurant without a children's  menu.

59) What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? 
The ability to take it easy on myself.  I have ridiculously high standards for myself that are sometimes just impossible to achieve 

60) How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011? 
I don't think I bought myself a single item of clothing this year.  My mother in law an step mother in law both sent me a few things, which was really nice.  My style used to be sassy and fun, now it is just sort of there.

61) What kept you sane? 
My family and LJ  

62) Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? 
Barack Obama.  Still President Obama. 

63) How much money did you spend in 2011? 
Too much on medical bills and dental bills, quite a bit more on my kids than ever before, and none on anything else really 

64) Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011:
How hard you work doesn't matter, the results get you the grade.

65) What are your plans for 2012? 
Buy our house, plant a garden, teach my kids to swim

66) Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: 
I will surrender

 I added 3 new questions four years ago, here they are: 

67) what one lesson did you teach your child(ren) that you hope they remember: 
Proper manners are not optional

68) What one lesson did your child(ren) learn by your example that you hope they forget? 
I taught them the diarrhea song while desperately trying to be the cool parent.  Yeah, that song will be sang every day until the end of life.

69) What one area of your marriage are you most proud of? 
Dates!  all the dates and time focused solely on each other.  We are getting better at being married, and I am so glad for that.  Seven years into our relationship, I feel like we are just now remembering how to be each other's first priority

30 minute segment on Good Morning America tomorrow starting at 7:30am.  Featured story on Nightline Friday night.  Now that it is so much more than a 4 minute feel good thing I am freaking the F out of my pants.

Please, even if I look like an idiot, will you all comfort me and tell me everything is going to be OK?

Dave does not have lupus.  Hooray.  This week has been insane, including more marital safeguarding conversations, sick children, families of origin conversation, and a spattering of amazing adorableness from my children.  I wish I had time to write, maybe tomorrow.

The class was fine.  Bonnie and Jeff had to sign something confirming that Dave and I are both confirmed Catholics, but we did not have to sign anything.  This made me feel a lot better, as signing my name to something I do not believe in goes against all sorts of my sensibilities.

We went to dinner first, and had the most delicious dinner at a great italian restaurant.  We laughed and joked and had a really nice time.  I often forget how much fun my sister can be when we aren't corralling children.  Carson is 9 months old and can already stand and cruise with furniture.  He is a chunk of love and excitement, and definitely helps my OMG baby rabies from getting out of control.  The actual class lecture was interesting.  I studied Catholicism and religious ceremony for many years, so it was especially interesting to see how the new language of the Catholic church had changed compared to what I knew growing up.  They say resurrection of the body now, not resurrection of the dead.  And instead of using the term original sin (baptism washes it away, cleans your soul, and marks you as a child of God) they called it a break from the devil.  Interesting, as the original sin dialogue is one that I take the most issue with in the Catholic faith.

The only part that made me extremely uncomfortable was that they referred to the unbaptized as creatures, not children, the word child only applied after baptism.  I obviously took issue with this personally, but it was OK.  I have honed the ability to see religion from someone else's shoes, it was a prerequisite to speaking with my step mother in law.  From our instructor's shoes, purgatory is very real.  To him, his child were saved through baptism, and to him the thought of children perishing in purgatory was very literal and visceral and real.  Seeing this, recognizing his vision of the world, I was able to take in everything he needed to impart without taking it as a personal affront to my unbaptized children.  His excitement and enthusiasm, paired with the importance of the moment, was beautiful.  I may not see the world the way he does, but his faith was flawless and his conviction was amazing.

When we went to pick up the kids my son was sleeping.  He was also sleeping when I had left in the morning.  I was so sad to go 24 hours without seeing him that I woke him up this morning before I left so we could snuggle.  It was a lovely morning, snuggling and talking and being present with each other.  I believe that heaven is an earthly construct we strive for through action, that we create our eternity through our lives here, and we can create a positive space of love and light and happiness if we choose (with a little luck, obviously, sometimes the world throws obstacles at every turn).  My kids, though, those moments with my children where I am overcome by the inherent goodness of their soul, of all souls, makes me strive for grace.  After we got home last night Dave and I had a great discussion on parenting and choices and how to handle things that happen with older kids.  

This morning, rubbing Gus' back while we talked about steam engines, it all makes sense.  The class, the discussion, the deep longing in my heart to hold my babies before I leave for work spelled out why I always gravitated to the idea of the Holy Spirit as being a part of God.  I used to call these chills I get up my spine when I witness acts of kindness Holy Spirit shivers, a physical reaction to the presence of God.  Call it God, call it Human Goodness, call it Compassion, it all boils down to the power of kindness.  My belief system is constantly changing and evolving as I learn and grow, but I will always see God not as a being, but as action.  I believe in God every time I see someone chose kindness and love, and I believe when people claim to be an agent of God that they, too, recognize the power of their actions to create positive change in the world.  I know this sounds simplistic and light, and that the world is a complicated entity full of suffering and loss, but the older I get the less complicated the idea of God and Love and Religion become.  Dave and I used a reading from Tuesdays with Morrie in our wedding, it was called Love Each other or Perish.  I think that sums up my feelings about the world.

In the end I realized that we are the right choice to be god parents, even if we see God as manifest action.  My feelings of confliction have been eradicated by the recognition that our life focus of creating a better world through kindness and love is the part of us that Bonnie and Jeff want to see shared with their child.  My feelings of trepidation have been replaced with feelings of honor and responsibility , responsibility that I am thrilled to take on.

I like to have 20 minutes in the morning, before anyone else wakes up, to shower, read the headlines of the news and check my phone.  I like when the kids wake up for the last 5 minutes before I leave for work, but the morning is the only time I ever have to myself.  This morning Lise woke up just as I was leaving and she started screaming and crying about how I should choose her, not work.  Seriously heart felt crying continued, and I still feel bad for leaving her even though I know I had to.  Sucks

Life in our family usually means family time every night until bedtime, a family day on Saturday and an extended family day on Sunday.  As the kids get older, I am trying to refocus at least some of my energy on getting out and doing things that are fun for me the lady, not me the mom or me the wife.  College buddy weekend was a fresh start at socialization, and I think I caught the social bug for the first time since I became a momma the second time around.  

Last night Dave and I met up with my cousin Kenny and his soon to be wife Kate.  Ken and I have been close since birth, and 90% of my happiest memories of childhood involve him in some way.  He was my best man at my wedding.  We drifted apart when I moved away, and the drift grew over the years.  Since we moved back we have been trying to get out with these two and have some fun.  Last night we went out and it was simply awesome.  

Dave has a hard time with social situations.  He gets nervous, his speech becomes practiced, almost to a cadence, and he comes home more exhausted and lonely than before we went out.  Last night was the first time in probably four years that I saw Dave act like himself in a social situation and just have fun and be friendly.  I love my husband so much, and it makes me so incredibly happy when he lets other people see the real him minus the nerves.

We sang karaoke at a bar that had maybe 20 people in it.  I got hit on more blatantly than I can ever remember being hit on before.  Dave thought that was hot, lol, but didn't really like it when a guy other than him grabbed the mike to sing a duet of Love Shack with me.  

It was such a simple thing, to get out of the house without kids and enjoy ourselves with a couple of people we genuinely love.  Simple doesn't come easy for us, though, as two socially awkward people in a marriage that sort of acted like an isolationist island for many years.  But last night, it reminded me that simple fun is possible, and that we can remember how to converse about things other than our kids and laugh and act silly and just be.  Social skills, they may be making a come back!

 Dave has had amazing success in the short time we have been here.  I am seriously impressed with his ability to juggle everything.  He has a building about a finger's grasp away, paid for, as well as a Board of Directors for the company and enough start up cash for the first season.  He is gearing up for this with grace, too.  I worry about him, sometimes too much, because his mental health is so important to me.  We go through so much to keep him together, and for a while all his success and accomplishments in getting stuff started seemed to trigger depression and anxiety far more than happiness.  I wrote about this before, this nagging feeling of discontent that happiness triggers his anxiety, and he is actually happier and more stable when life isn't going particularly well.  For some reason everything clicked for him in so many ways and he is feeling pumped, not scared, and getting ready for this next jump with a strength and resolve that overtakes the fear and anxiousness.  I love this so much.  My husband is absolutely brilliant.  He deserves his shot at making a career from something he loves, he deserves the accolades and the excitement and the new buzz, and it is so unbelievably refreshing to see that he know thinks he deserves it, too.

Today I scored him an intern from the University of Michigan if he wants them, and they can be required to work for him 20 hours per week.  This also gives Dave an in with another university to help borrow talent and engage seniors before they leave Michigan in search for work.  I haven't told him yet, I am so stoked to do so when I get home!

 I had a fantastic, centered night with my kids tonight.  I believe there is a bog difference between being with my kids and being truly present, experiencing the moments with them.  For a variety of reasons, not all valid, I have had a really hard time focusing on them for a couple weeks.  Each night I would make a mental note to be better in the morning, each new day presented its own challenges to my resolve.  Tonight Dave had to leave straight away after dinner to have a big meeting for his new company.  My friend Ann babysits the kids one day a week and happened to still be here when I came home, so she stayed for dinner so we could all play together when Dave left.

We have two families with kids similar in age to ours on our block.  Tonight, we left the house for a walk and one of the families with kids whom we rarely see were out front playing.  We joined in and the evening turned in to a neighborhood soccer match.  It was absolutely wonderful.  Ann and I joined in with the five kids and we had a roaring good time pretending like we were letting them win, when really they were very good players.  At one point in time we had six balls stuck in a tree, as we kept throwing balls at the first ball to land in the tree in the hopes that we could knock it down.  It was hilarious watching a 2 year old, 4 year old, 5 year old, and two seven year olds reason out exactly how to get their balls back.  

When I can turn my internal nagging about responsibilities left incomplete and just play, I feel so damn good.  Lise was in heaven having so many people to play with and enjoy.  They were all so kind to her, too!  I get so nervous watching her interact with people, because she can be a bit controlling about how the act of playing occurs.  She has a really hard time with sports because she wants to know why the goalie is stopping the ball, is it because there are dragon eggs that need protecting?  A forcefield of goodness that protects her only if she can keep the ball in play?  She gets so bogged down in understanding the story line that some kids would rather not play with her than try to understand her.  I get it, I was her.  I am so fiercely protective of my kids, I have to remind myself not to keep her from people for fear of getting hurt.  I have to remind myself that she deserves friends, and that learning how to be social is part of growing up.  This time, when things got a bit awkward and I could tell the other kid were confused, the other kids were so good to her, and just let her finish telling her stories, then asked her if she still wanted to kick the ball.  I like these kids, I hope she plays with them more.

Gus played, too, they decided he could be the mascot and cheer for both teams, and he took this duty so seriously.  Well, not exactly.  He carried around a football and the other kids graciously skirted around him and told him he was doing a great job.  How lovely to be surrounded by kids who understand kindness and manners.

For a host while today I let Lise play in the their front yard with them while I watered our grass.  She was 150 feet from me, completely in view, but I wanted her to know that I trusted her to play with friends without me being an uninvited hovercraft.  She did really well, but my lord I was thankful when the kids invited Ann, Gus and I to join in.  If this is my first taste of what the future will be like, I can tell you I am going to have to work really hard to maintain constant vigilance while also allowing them to grow in their autonomy.  I swear I have grown up so much in the first four years of motherhood that most of life has taken on new meaning.  I remember the stunts I pulled, the lengths I went to to try and make sure people loved me, the lies I told my parents.  I am reminded of all of this in a kaleidoscope of elation and fear when I watch my children play.  Some day they are going to make me extremely proud. Some day they are going to lie to me.  And some day I might learn to take it all as it comes instead of swirling between my own fears and analytics of the situation.

But tonight, tonight we played.  We laughed and jumped and high fived.  We worked as a team, they made new friends, and I completely forget for a few moments all the things that kept my head out of the moment for the last couple weeks.  We played, we laughed, and now they sleep.  Gus is talking so much now, which means he loves to tell me about his day while he is drifting to sleep.  Tonight he thanked me for footballs and soccer and playing.  Tonight he said "I love your nose and your beautiful face and your kind brain".  And I felt like the mom I want to be again.  Good stuff, who knew soccer on the street would be so uplifting?

I can't see my journal, can't tell if any of my entries the last few days actually posted, or posted multiple times, and I like the rest of you am very annoyed.  I hope all is fixed soon, cause LJ is my magic mental health fixer upper

 Awesome weekend!  We lazed about Friday, but Saturday we woke up early and headed over to the zoo and dinosauria.  We split up, Dave taking Lise to see the dinosaurs and the 4D Dora the explorer feature (both free for members this weekend, woot), and Gus and I seeing the animals.  Gus ordered me around all morning, and I happily went along.  He would beg for the moneys, I would walk across the entire zoo to get there, then he would look for approximately 4.5 seconds and say "done! camels" or something similar.  It was a blast.  We went to an interactive-ish kangaroo exhibit (walking path through the middle of the exhibit with nothing seperating you from the animals, although you aren't allowed to leave the path or touch the animals) and saw a Joey jump out of his pouch, his momma reprimand him, then shove him back into the pouch head first.  Gus was intrigrued.  

I wasn't sure if Gus had any fun at all, and was feeling pretty bummed about it.  We went home by lunch time, and when we held hands to say what we were most thankful for before eating he said "mommy, ANIMALS, zoo" so I guess that was confirmation enough!  Lise loved the animatronic dinosaurs, and I was a bit jealous that I didn't get to join in for the exhibit.  Thankfully, she wanted to go again, so we switched kids just before leaving, with Dave taking Gus to the butterfly house and Lise and I experiencing Dinosauria again.

After we made it home and ate, we decided to just go for our kitchen redecorating.  Our landlord writes off the cost of any home repairs we do from our rent, and our rent is already ridiculously low at $200 monthly.  You know that tinge of blue you see on coke bottles from the glass being so thick?  That was our theme color and I absolutely love it.  We spent the afternoon shopping, picking up tiles, paint, and new light fixtures.  Between Saturday night and Sunday we finished all the prep and painting and light fixture installation, and it is starting to look amazing.  We just need to install the glass subway tile tonight and our project will be complete.  Full before and after pictures coming soon.

The exciting thing about fixing up this house is that we can experiment with ideas we love without losing out cost wise if it doesn't work out.  If we buy the house, we score because we have been slowly fixing it up on someone else's dime. If we don't buy the house we have given the owner, a seriously awesome family friend, a boost in value and hopefully made it easier to sell.  When we moved in every room was floor to ceiling wall paper applied in the early eighties, with light fixtures to match.  any updates will help, I believe!

In our 48 hour weekend we managed to have an awesome family bonding experience, decide on new decor, and nearly complete a major project, without getting orny or fussy.  This weekend was such a win on so many levels!

This weekend there is free admission to dinosauria at our zoo, and I am so excited!  Except, when we took the kids to the zoo a couple weeks ago, before family invasion, they were both scared of just the display outside.  Maybe Dave and I can take turns with the kids outside the exhibit and each go in and enjoy it ourselves?  This week we really need to spend tons of time on house repair and yard work, but I think we are going to go to the zoo and maybe the beach instead.  No wonder my house is always a wreck.  Maybe it will be clean once the kids are old enough for more chores.... what a delightful dream!

Dear Analise,

I have had four years of being your mom, and can only hope for four hundred or so more.  You are the most insightful, candid, intelligent and thought provoking person I have ever met.  I learn from your grace, am humbled by your honesty and amazed by your personality.  You have had a wild four years, but the most recent trip around the sun has brought so many changes. 

In the last year you have lived in three cities, enrolled in two schools, and made and lost friendships because of it.  Your Daddy and I always want to give you the best in live, moving on to the next best option for life as soon as it opens.  I think after this last move we realized that giving you the best might be staying still for a while, giving you the security to attach to your surroundings without fear of being uprooted.  You still talk about your Chicago best friend and your palatine best friend, you still ask to talk to them and see them and play with them.  I wish I had a way to keep them close to you, you are far too young to have already lost potential forever friends.

You are briliant, by the way, in every possible way.  I knew I was in trouble the moment you started stringing logical arguments together.  You ask me questions with such honesty and trust that I push myself to respond in kind.  When you ask me about the hard stuff already, though, I wonder if I am really cut out for being your mother.  This year you asked me why we can celebrate Veteran's Day when all people are good, and therefore we shouldn't kill.  You asked me if all people have to get old to become sck and die, or if it happens to other people, too.  You ask me if liking Cars and cowboys means you are a boy because they don't make clothes for girls in those prints.  You ask me why I cry when I get home from work, even though I want to make the world happier.  Your candor, your special voice of reason and honesty, force me to re-evaluate on the spot.  You remind me of the importance of living with grace in our core, when I so easily get lost in the superflous details.

Thank you for giving me four years of love so unconditional and lovely that I cannot help but feel lucky.  Thank you for always asking for Analise and Mommy only time at least 10 times a day.  Thank you for seeing value in my friendship and companionship, even when I forget to act in ways that deserve such praise. 

We moved you to another state this year to give your Daddy a chance to regain his career.  We moved you to Michigan to get closer to your extended family and provide a life for you and Gus more similar to what we had growing up.  Please forgive me for not seeing how valuable being part of a larger family would be to your development.  You have thrived in so many ways since we moved.  You love to show people your house, taking special pride to explain that you have your own room now, and basement just for toys.  Moving you out of that 700 square foot apartment and into a house with a yard feels like an accomplishment in itself, you have enough room now to grow in your independance.

A few months ago we learned that your thrombocytosis has come back, and you are again in danger of medical issues.  Lise, when you ask me if young people can die I am so fearful that I haven't protected you from overhearing our conversations of fear.  When you asked me about death my only answer is that everyone dies, so it makes it even more important to give ourselves over fully to love each day that we are alive.  That was the only answer I could come up with, and I hope that you see this life lesson in the lives we live.  You fill bags with toys all the time, now, and ask me to give it to children who don't have homes to sleep in.  You give of yourself so freely, I am so proud of who you are and who you are becoming.

I love you so much more than I could ever really say.  When you rush out the door after me when I leave for work, just to tell me that you love me more than jelly beans, you fill me with your simple grace and sweetness to the point of nearly bursting.  You dote on your brother every day, and remind me that he is a 'tobler' not a baby.  You ask Daddy to kiss me, and you smile when you catch us dancing or snogging in the kitchen. 

I am so far from the perfect mother I want to be, and even further from the mom I know you deserve.  I can only try each day to be the best possible example to you and Gus, your strongest advocate, and your most vocal fan.  I love you more than moon beams, sun shine and lollipops.  Thank you for starting every day  believing in your heart that I am the right momma for you, I try my best to deserve the privilege.

Love you, happy birthday,

Momma

Welcome to my new LJ friends!  I am behind on life at the moment, as I had my MIL staying with me for two weeks, followed immediately by a week in South Carolina with my Step MIL, followed immediately with four days at home (Detroit) with my sister and her kids from Georgia visiting.  Today is my first day back at work and I have a terrible deadline crunch that I opted to try and handle instead of ending vacation early... So, sorry!  I promise to, in the next two days or so, write out 2 entries.  I am late on my daughter's 4th birthday letter which has to come first.  I will then write an about me post as I cannot remember the last time I did one of those.  Cheers to new friends!

Our life is always so chaotic- thankfully, lately it has been mostly chaotically wonderful save for a few days of blah thrown in to the mix every few weeks. Children grow so fast, it feels impossible to document their progress towards adulthood adequately, as some of the most significant moments pass in a heap of newness, then quickly fade to normal everyday life. 

GUS

Gus is learning every word he can, but he is very selective as to whom he speaks to, and what words he says more than once. He is more opinionated every day, which fills me with joy and a bit of confusion all the time. He has wonderful manners, always making the sign for please and thank you, and saying “cue me” when he wants to interrupt (“excuse me” in two year old language). He has taken to asking for more kisses all the time. He leans over and plants a kiss on my mouth, holding there until I pucker up and make a muah sound. He leans back, smiles, holds up his index finger and says “one more” and repeats until I grab him and cover his face, arms, and belly with more kisses than you can count. I love this more than I can say.

THE TALE OF DINOSAURS

For two months he would only wear dinosaur clothes. I convinced him that camouflage was dinosaur skin, and that shorts with pockets were what dinosaurs would have worn had they chosen to wear clothes, which helped me go four days without rewashing his dino gear. Other creative interpretations of dinosaur included making sharks the dinosaurs of the sea and calling sandals with two straps dinosaur feet. At two years old he didn’t understand that actually wearing dinosaurs every day on every layer of clothing wasn’t possible, so I yet again justified a little white lie or seven.  

At night he asks me to read him 6-10 dinosaur story books. When we are done, he snuggles up with his stuffed stegosaurus for song time. Some nights, when Lise falls asleep early and it is just the two of us, he asks me to sing the dinosaur song. I know two real dinosaur songs, but they are action packed and loud, and thus not useful at bed time. I have taken to singing out the names of 20-30 dinosaurs in the melody of a lullaby. “Din-O-Sauuuurs…….Din-O-Sauuuuuuurs… din-o-sairs are… our fri-ee-ends… Stegosaurus likes to play…. Pteranodon must have his way… din-o-sauuuuuurs….din-o-sauuuuurs” making up verses for every dinosaur he requests can be challenging, I never remember which ones fly and which ones swim. 

POTTY TRAINING

Gus has decided to potty train himself, and I could not be happier. He started by sitting on our training potty when his sister went potty, then he started actually peeing. Now he comes up to me (and only me, thus no training during the day yet) and tells me if he needs to pee or poo. If I hurry and get him on the john he always makes it and goes. The decrease in poopy diapers has got to be tied to the increase in my overall parenting satisfaction. I dream of the day that I know my kids will be down pooping themselves, dream of it.

He also likes to wear big boy underwear, which I always put on over his diaper because I am just not ready to clean up the accidents that go along with training. He is so proud of his Elmo underoos that he will take off his shirt and shorts and parade proudly around, elbows cocked to the side, smirk displayed across his ever lovely face, showing everyone his big boy pants. This is far and aware a different experience than we had with Lise. I don’t know why I even try to compare the two; he is on a different life trajectory already and is only two years old.

ANALISE

This girl has hit four years old with a new streak of independence that I just cannot figure out! She is making up for lost time in every possible way. All those times when she was a bitty one and we sheltered her from everything for her health’s sake are gone, replaced by an irresistible urge to be completely herself in all situations. She is in control of her life and she is going to let you know. I am in love with her ability to communicate her choices, though. She always explains her actions and feelings with such freedom and candor, I wish I could apply her model to my own life.

CLOTHING AND FANCINESS

Dressing our darling daughter in the mornings is a pure treat. I decided long ago that my kids could wear whatever clothes they wanted, limited only by weather appropriateness. They choose their own clothes when we go shopping, and they choose their own outfits in the morning. Analise does not believe that dresses or skirts are appropriate attire under any circumstances. She will wear dresses on occasion, as long as she can wear pants or shorts underneath and everyone calls it a long shirt, not a dress. She prefers to wear bright stripes under light colored dresses, for an extra punch of fun.

In clothing and in countenance, she does not like being called beautiful or pretty. She likes to feel “normal” and “plain”. If someone makes the mistake of calling her beautiful she will ask to remove any article of clothing she deems to be the cause. In her words she isn’t fancy, and doesn’t like to be perceived as such. She does like to get ready along side momma in the morning, though. She puts on her Christmas lotion (I have lotion that smells of gingerbread and pie) and delicately brushes her face with pretend make up. I always tell her she doesn’t need to wear makeup to be herself, she reminds me that I don’t, either. Truer words cannot be found, I recommend spending time with a four year old to anyone who wants to compare their words to their actions.

SCHOOL AND AWARENESS OF SELF

Dave and I get depressed and frightened when we look at Lise’s old medical records. Unfortunately we have to do that every time we want to enroll her in services for kids with developmental delays. Yes, she does not show any signs of delays anymore, but she is entitled to free preschool and socialization help because of her past illnesses and we want her to access them. Not only that, but her thrombocytosis re-emerges every now and again, and I want to make sure it is in her records everywhere so we do not have to fight for accommodations should she get as sick as she was in the past. 

Applying for Title I preschool, a program for kids at risk of failing behind due to a combination of being in a low income household and having one additional contributing factor, means we must show documentation of our struggles, then get interviewed to discuss them. Dave and I have had to comb through all of Lise’s medical records and pull out every page that said “critical levels”, “immediate remediation necessary”, etc. In the first 12 months of her life we have about 20 of those documents, only 5 in year 2, and none in year 3. Still, though, every time I look at one of those papers from year one I am reminded how much I haven’t really gotten over in regards to how we were accused of wrong doing and lying that year. I need to get over it, I need to forget and forgive and move on, and for the most part I have. It’s just, seeing it all in black and white in front of us, we always both end up crying over our good fortune that Lise is here and is doing amazingly well in all things.

Lise has become aware of her history, though, and it is a delicate treading of water to keep things not scary while also being honest about her past. We aren’t telling her about the increased risk for stroke and cancer she still has because of her platelet levels, nor are we telling her about the evil reactions of some people who blamed her illness on us. She will catch us talking about things, though, and ask us why she was sick. She asks for reassurances that she is not sick anymore, then comes back with questions about going to a school that is for sick kids (it isn’t, by the way. It is a program for single income families, kids who have lost a parent, and other risk factors, not just kids who had severe illnesses in their past). We are cognizant of her need to separate her past from her present, and the need for us to watch how much we talk about in front of her. She is not nearly old enough to understand any of this, and I struggle answering her questions without scaring her.

DEATH

We keep Lise and Gus away from most television, and we really shelter them (perhaps too much) from scary ideas. Analise met her great great great uncle Pete a couple of weeks ago, and it raised a lot of questions about death, if it happens to people, why does it happen? Do you know ahead of time? I answer her honestly to the extent that I think is appropriate for a child her age. She has taken to pretending to die in her imagination plays, though, and although I know it is normal I am still concerned over how long this stage of curioousity will last, and if I am giving her the right level of understanding to answer her questions. There is no right answer, I know this, but sometimes I just wish I could come up with a sentence that cures her fears and lets her be little without fear.

THE FUN STUFF

I have so much fun playing with Analise now, she is the most creative and intelligent play partner I have ever had. She makes up complex games and gets really into character. She adapts her play to include her brother, even if he is too little to understand her stage direction. I love this stage, and I look forward to her having more friends to play with.

Overall, I am just in love with my children in new ways every day. It gets tiresome to dedicate at least 3 hours of time per day to intentional parenting, especially when I work full time. When I forget the other stuff, or choose to remember that nothing is as important as our family, then these three hours are the best moments of life. We play, we sing, we make believe. We learn from each other and annoy each other. We lose ourselves in fun and forget about the ‘supposed to’ items, focusing instead on what makes us feel complete. I know that they will reach a time in life soon where I wont be the fun an awesome addition to their playtime, and I know that they will grow into friendships and out of dependence. I am just so grateful for every moment I have with them, they teach me so much about life.

Analise is such a fantastic being. I have to remember to enjoy her candor, and not shush it for my own sake.  This morning we had our usual alone time, but due to running late for work I tried to skip a few steps.  She was really upset, crying and whining.  I spent just as much time talking her out of her crying fit as we would have spent had I just followed our normal routine.  She topped off the morning by letting me know that she wishes she could spend more time with me all the time, and my heart sank.  I get home from work at 4pm and we cudle and play every day until bedtime at 7pm, then I spend the next hour reading stories and singing songs.  I understand that she doesn't feel like it is enough, but I worry that nothing short of being a stay at home mom would be enough for her needs right now.  Thank goodness I am taking 1.5 weeks off of work soon, I think we need some time to reconnect.  Who knew that spending 3+ hours a day providing intentional interaction and parenting wouldn't be enough?  

Dave and I both turn the big 30 in a few months.  I feel like we should do something big to celebrate, but I am torn between throwing a huge party for ourselves or taking a mini couples vacation.  It feels like a milestone to celebrate with friends and family, but a few nights away without the kids could be its own transformational experience.  Still, 30.  I really am a grown up now, right?

My list of things to do before I am thirty has partially come true.  I am working on the weight loss thing again, but not freaking out anymore.  I still get 20 minutes of cardio in a day, which was my 2011 goal, and my kids are amazing humans.  I therefore call my first 30 decades a success.

Dave and I crumpled in to each other on the couch, he had a surprise he couldn't wait to share with me.  Let's put aside for the moment that Dave is the only father I know that spends father's day weekend working diligently on a project for his wife, that deserves a post of its own.  He connected a thumb drive to our TV and showed me the final results of his hours and hours of work-- He went through all of our old cell phones and cameras and salvaged every short burst video of our children ever taken over the last four years.  Moments of complete happiness and love poured out of our speakers, moments we had temporarily forgotten.

We have owned a video camera since before Lise was born, but during her first two years we didn't use it.  Life was full of complications then, and we never even read the owner's manual.  We did use our phones, though, to capture moments in time.  As we sat there holding on to each other, we saw Lise say her first word, Daddy.  We saw the purple toy bin with wheels that we used to site her in and prop her up with stuffed animals so we could take her into every room with us, as she couldn't be left in a room alone.  We saw the triumphant footage of her on our first outing into a city event, standing and wiggling even though she was a mere 13 pounds or so.  He was even able to salvage the footage of her wearing her ruby red slippers and diaper, dancing to the beat of her own drummer when she was around 15 months old.  We have her first triumphant climb up a slide herself at 21 months.

Dave unearthed the footage of a portly Gus rolling over for the first time at 4 months old.  We have the two of them babbling together when he was just 9 months old.  These short bursts of video, these moments that couldn't pass without capture, are never more than 30 seconds, but the joy and elation in Dave and I's voice takes over the moment in every one.  The Day Lise and Gus baked cookies to surprise me is full of Dad's pride, even though he never graces the screen. 

The cliche of parenthood always stands that time goes too fast.  When we are worried about paying the next light bill, or choosing the right school or moving for the five time in three years, we forget that these moments of grace are fleeting.  We forget that portly babies who roll over on their own fast become defiant toddlers that never stop running.  When we ran to doctors appointments, and thrilled at another ounce gained, we forgot that the moments of love and learning continued even when weights didn't climb.  When I recount the story of our life as parents, I always remember the details of the fear, the details of death defying obstacles and transitions.  I never forget to mention what the wait for Lise to breath felt like, or the relief of hearing Gus scream immediately upon entering the world.  As many of my friends are getting ready now to join parenthood, these videos reminded me that the amazing parts, the love and the learning and the grace to let life happen, are so much more ingrained in who we are and who our children become.  Lise still loves to dance.  Gus still screams with joy to let everyone know he is doing great upon entering most rooms.

It is no secret that I am amazed with my children every day.  I am touched by their candor, am moved by the honestly that hasn't yet been replaced with societal norms of appropriateness.  Last night while driving home from interviewing a Title I preschool program for Lise (we qualify because of her developmental delay and our income) Dave adn I were talking about how it 'feels' to qualify for a program that is probably meant for families more destitute than ours.  Then we stopped talking and just listened.  Lise was explaining the school to Gus, she was holding his hand and talking about how important learning is, she offered to teach him to read when he gets old enough.  His response ranged from OK, Uh Huh, and DINOSAURS, but she rolled with it and made it a conversation.  That moment speaks volumns about why my life is an astounding success.  

I am grateful that Dave and I always sideline our worries and fears when the kids are present.  We focus on them, on our family.  This can be so draining.  I feel like I shove 10 hours worth of daily life into the 2-3 hours I am awake without children paddling about.  But those videos, and that car exchange, those moments are my magical panacea.  They don't change the fact that our financial issues never seem to really be more than an arms length away, the don't take away the sting of not being able to afford new clothes, opting to repurpose and fix garments instead.  But they do center us on more than just the real priorities of life, but the real reasons for happiness. 

When I have weeks like this last week, or feel the stress of yet another burden placed on our lives, I am so grateful that I can still center myself on my children most days, and that on days I can't I feel that sting in my heart to remind me to try harder the next day.  I am not a perfect mother, and we are not a perfect family.  But most times the call to be perfect can be replaced by the call to be authentically involved with each other.  I took a deep breath last night as I fell into bed and was overcome with the beauty of life again.

We hosted Gus' second birthday party the Sunday of Memorial day and it was lovely.  We had so many people we love attend, adorable babes playing in the sand and water, and the rain clouds stayed at bay until just after the party ended.  Gus is in love with Dinosaurs, and when he saw the dinosaur cake i constructed he could not contain his happiness.  I love when my kids are so ecstatically happy, It would be good for me to remember that green icing and plastic dinosaurs carry a lot of weight to the little ones-- not everything has to be hypersized.

The week after the birthday party was a short week at work, but so completely full of stuff I had to take care of.  This job has a little more to it than I can handle, which sometimes paralyzes me and I get even less done.  When I make my to do lists for a week, though, instead of a day, I can allow myself time to worry and still get my sh*t done, which I guess is what it takes for me to be functional.  I had a really emotional day on Wednesday last week, as I went and talked to over 40 participants who were being moved into apartments of their own.  Listening to stories of homelessness has always affected me, but this time was markedly different.  In  Michigan, particularly Detroit, It is far easier for the general public to see themselves in the faces of the homeless.  I met an RN, a veteran, grandparents, etc.  I firmly believe that we shouldn't define then draw lines around the "deserving" homeless and delineate who should receive services.  The truth is, in all of my years working in this field almost all people who get help can trace the foundation of their homelessness to something we all can relate to.  Blaming the victim is such a futile effort to make the world, and the evil and goodness inside it, make sense.  If someone is wrong and someone is right than we have order, and blaming victims, making people deserve their treatment, makes so many people feel safer in their own lives because they know they don't "deserve" the punishments of bad choices.  My day was shocking, though, because so many people had their foundation of homelessness be identifiable to the general public without requiring a tutorial on systematic injustice and inequity.  One woman had been waiting for Section 8 housing for 7 years, even though she was legally blind, physically disabled and receiving full SSDI benefits.  The day was moving for me in a lot of ways, mostly because I could feel my passions for this social crisis reignite.

Dave had a huge week, too.  He had a full time job interview for a technical theater director position, was called in for an equity actor audition (union contract, which means paid a living wage) and the investors in his new company have already found potential sources of funding to get that project literally off the ground very soon, building him his own dream theater space.  He didn't get the acting gig, but through auditioning realized that he just is'nt an actor anymore.  He did amazingly well at the tech director interview, and we should hear about that on Wednesday.  I am so proud of him.

I packed this weekend full to the gills for many reasons, one being that I will be leaving my children for an extended period of time for the first time since Gus was born.  We went to Belle Isle and fed Dear, to a street fair, to a barbeque, etc.  We were running from dawn to dusk both days, which was awesome but exhausting.  I told Analise about my trip today, and she is a bit mopey about it.  I just don't know how Gus will do, seeing as he screams for me with more regularity now than he did when he was an infant.  Honestly, I am more worried about how I will do being away.  Yes, my first sleep through the night in a big bed alone is going to make angels appear on high, but then what?  I am going to try and be touristy to stay distracted, but four nights away from my babies is going to feel a little torturous.  I dont even have time to stock up on books from the library!

I can't believe my littlest one, my last one, is two.  I am so excited by his growth and development, and as I say with regularity this year is really one of the best years in terms of fascinating human development, but I sometimes cry at the silliest thing.  Like, he called me Mommy a few days ago instead of the infant-esq MAMA.  Mama is a natural first work because of something someone in a scientific journal told me about throat and vocal cord development, where as Mommy is a word.  I do find it sort of satisfying when he goes "mom.. mama.... mommy.... mom...ma....MA .... MOMMY!" In those little moments the growth of a person becomes so evident.  Saturday he looked at me across the dinner table, said "what a minute" then blew bubbles in his chocolate milk.  He laughed and said 'I do!" and then did it again.  How precious.  Later, I asked him if i could give him one more kiss.  He puckered up, I kised him, then he said "1 more!" puckered and kissed me.  He repeated this until we were both laughing.  Yesterday he kept saying "I three!" and would laugh hysterically when I would say, "no, you are two!"  He would then say "2? NO 3!" and laugh again.  I think that was his first joke.

Analisr has finally discovered that the word Underpants is the funniest thing ever.  While I was reading her bedtime stories on Friday night she interrupted me: "Momma, knock knock!" Me- "who's there?" Analise "Underpants!  you get it?  I said underpants!" then laughed until she hiccuped.  My kids rock.

Dave and I had an excellent week together, too, although we had a pretty tense conversation last night that, while completely good for our marriage and our souls, was painful to navigate.  Why does the phrase "you are just like your mother?" universally suck so much?  Is it the realization that you might be?  That you wish we were?  Still trying to figure that out.

I keep having day dreams about me ghost writing a book about Dave's company and us living high off the hog from the royalties and his later in life salary for being brilliant.  A girl can dream, can't she?  I would still like to work in homeless services, but not in a role with such clearly defined markers of success.  A little less "the world and these 687 formerly homeless people rests entirely on your shoulders" would be good for the soul.  Sometimes I wish I could trade my sense of personal fulfillment from the work I do into a stable career where there is always one right way to do your job and success is gauranteed if you work hard and pay attention.  At least this time when I daydream about a life without so much pressure, I can come back to earth and be grateful that I do have an amazing job and an awesome boss this time around, and that sticking it out for 10 years or so while Dave establishes his career really doesn't seem that hard to do.  Still trying to temper my comfort level, but over two months in and I still feel good makes me get a little giddy.

I'm going to San Diego next week for week.  Considering I have never been further west than Kansas City, MO, I have no idea what to do while I am there.  Any suggestions of cheap and fun activities?

Dear Gus,

 

You turn two years old today, and your sister would you to know that that means the earth has gone around the sun two whole times since the first moment we laid our eyes on you.  You took your first steps just moments after your first birthday, and the last 365 days have been full of new adventure.  You have lived in three homes since your first birthday, constantly adapting to change.  Our family was complete the day you were born, and now that you are a cognizant and conversing member you remind me of that every day.  Last night, as I sang you to sleep and kissed your elbow between songs when I thought for sure you were sleeping, you sat up, eyes closed, and kissed me on the nose.  You whispered what I think was love you, then literally fell over and snored.  How I ever lived without moments like this is beyond comprehension.

 

Gus, your first words were mom, dad, penis and dinosaur.  In the last month you have added 70 words to your vocabulary, but each new word sets of an explosion of pride and excitement, for you and Daddy and Me.  Just this past Saturday you said 7 new words.  SEVEN!  After each one, when you could tell that I understood you, you repeated it with a huge grin on your face, sometimes with a little sway or swagger thrown in for effect.  Your favorite word is still dinosaur, though.  When you are thinking or feeling something that you do not yet have words to express, you talk about it in dinosaur.  When your belly hurts you point to it and say “dinosaur” with a look of sadness on your face.  When I ask you the name of an animal and you haven’t yet mastered the word, it automatically becomes a dinosaur.  You call sharks swimming dinosaurs.  When you want to participate in family singing nights, you sway lightly on your feet and sing out dinosaur, real soft and slow, varying your pitch and speed to match ours.  It should be noted that you do not like animatronics dinosaurs, though, and that they make you cling to my collar in terror as you speak out yet another new word phrase “I SCARED”.  Sorry buddy, next time I will make sure the only dinosaurs you see are smaller than you- maybe that will help.

 

I have finally reached a place where I can talk about your birth story, the birth story that really began when we had our first placental abruption, without getting sad or angry or depressed.  This weekend I think I accidentally scared a soon to be new mother with it, oops!  The thing is, Gus, your story is my life’s most concrete example of never having hard and fast rules of thought.  I think it really holds true, in all families, that each member has a story that anchors our hearts and minds.  Your Daddy anchors me to the fact that mental illness and physical health should never be separated in terms of affordable treatment, and that taking care of your mind is a sign of strength.  Your sister Lise anchors me to the fact that we should all act oblivious to the restrictions prior health issues "should" have on our life.  She is boundless and fearless and doesn’t even realize how much she went through to be here.  And you, dear Gus, anchor me to the fact that no one can own another person’s story or struggle.  Your life and accomplishments, your failures and successes, are really not going to be tied to my physical struggles to bring you here, and your birth story may have a place in discussions of pregnancy and child birth, but your life story isn’t my story and I cannot pretend to own it. 

 

You have the healthiest appetite of any child I have met, and often require six meals instead of three.  You love popsicles best, and I love that I can freeze yogurt in a tube and you consider it a better tasting popsicle.  You love all fruits and vegetables, and will gladly eat anything that looks like it came from a garden.  Every meal we say a thank you prayer, going around the table saying the things you are thankful for that day.  Around 6 months ago you started to participate by pointing at everyone in the room.  Now, you speak.  You are sometimes thankful for Mommy, sometimes Daddy, and sometimes Lise.  You are always, however, thankful for your food, and often tell us each item you are eating.  When Grandpa or Grandma come for dinner you always tell them you are thankful for them, and it melts all of our hearts. 

 

Recently you have taken to dancing.  You love to dance in a controlled, rhythmic, and methodical way, definitely taking after your father.  When you want to dance, you walk up to anyone, arms raised, and say “DANCE!” then wiggle your hips and move your arms like you are doing the monkey.  Some nights, when I give up on getting you to sleep in time for me to work out, I bring you to the living room and we have a sweaty dance party.  Sometimes we run figure eights around our furniture, and sometimes we do the worm on the floor.  You laugh like you had never experienced anything so wonderful in your life, and you fill me with such bursting love that I almost want you to stay awake and dance with me every night, almost.

 

Being your mom has changed my perception on parenting.  There is so much more nature in the nature vs. nurture debate than I ever would have thought before having two children in my home.  From the little things, like not liking your head rubbed while you fall to sleep and waiting until you can speak full sentences to really speak at all, to the big things, like how you respond to stressful situations—these reactions are far different than your sister’s in every way.  Your Dad and I learned so much from having you, but most of it can be boiled down to this one thing, people are uniquely themselves in many ways from the moment they are born. 

 

I love the way you crinkle your nose when you laugh, and I love that you have to stop on our walks every time you see an ant, just to make sure I notice it too.  I love that, when you need to catch up to your Daddy or sister on our walks, you side gallop while wiggling your arms, even though you know how to run.  I love that you always kiss me square on the mouth before you fall asleep, and I love that you now want to return every kiss you receive, regardless of how tired you are.  I love that you smile like you won the lottery when I tell you that we can read an extra story before bed time.  I love that you are so trained to fall asleep to my singing voice that you sometimes sleep when we sing country karaoke in the living room.  You are fearless in your physical presence; you are vocal in every conversation.  You are so perfectly wonderful, Gus, and I am seriously honored to be your momma and be so well loved by you.

 

You and Lise are peas and carrots most of the time.  You emulate her in many ways, and when she remembers to adapt play to your level you two can go on for hours.  You would follow her into any situation, but when she gets scared you protect her, too.  When she cries, you run to her and pat her head.  When she laughs, you make yourself laugh even when you don’t get it.  I love watching your friendship bloom. I love experiencing your growing affection for each other from a distance.  I am amazed how much solidarity can exist between a 2 year old and a 4 year old.

 

Gus, the last 365 days have been amazing.  I could not be more in love with you, and more in love with being your mom.  You remind me to slow down, you remind us all to remember to look at the sidewalk and enjoy the view.  You show us that sometimes dancing is a physical expression of pure joy, you remind me that your Dad and I made the best possible decision to add you to our family.  I love you more than moonbeams, and I am honored to be your momma.

 

All the love in the world

Mom

My baby turns 2 in 8 days.  He has gone from verbal light to verbal non stop in the last three or four weeks, picking up to about 58 words.  I don't know why I freaked out about his language, except for the fact that I love to freak out all the time about my kids.  Not love to, really, more like I can't really stop it from happening.  Here is his word list:

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Yeah, I pretty much think he is amazing.  Now that he speaks with regularity, and puts a lot of three word phrases together, I am beginning to see that he and Lise really are as different as you can possibly be and still be related.  He sings all the time, He loves to dance, but in a controlled rhythmic way (not at all like his momma).  He will go up to anyone that is dancing, as was evidenced at the wedding we attended Saturday night, and ask to be held while they dance.  He is more attached to me than I know how to handle.  When I am home I cannot make a move without him in my arms.  He doesn't crave independence yet, and instead relishes the hugs and loves from me every single time I offer them.  He loves reading, usually asking for books over anything other activity.  He sleeps better through the night than I have ever experienced, usually only needing to come in our room once a week.  He does, however, take over 2 hours to get to sleep many nights, which can be very tiring.  I have another post brewing in my head about that though, so I will close this one out here.

I am writing Gus' letter and it is much harder than I would have thought.  The little man has been such a trouper his entire little life, I feel like he deserves a medal more than a letter of love.

My husband rocks at life.  He had something special planned each day to make it a Mothers Weekend Extravaganza.  He did all the not fun parts of parenting the entire weekend, including diaper changes, dealing with a massive temper tantrum and getting them to sleep on Friday night.   He also did all the cooking and housework, I am impressed!  Really, that right there is all I ever ask for on any holiday or special day, a clean house that I didn't have to clean, healthy meals I don't have to cook, and someone else to deal with poop.  He did that plus so much more, and he has been planning and scheming for weeks.

Friday when I got home from work Analise bounced up to me and told me "MOMMY you need to check the mail, I hope you check the mail!"  Not wanting to give anything away ;) she came with me and kept saying, "I hope it isn't empty mommy, let's hope for not empty. "  She and Gus had made me cards and put them in the mailbox.  Analise even wrote MOM on the envelope, which is the first word she has ever written herself.  Love love love.

Saturday we spent the day outdoors playing.  We took a break in the middle for Dave to give me another present.  He staged the kids to perform a "worlds best mommy" show on video.  Gus did the dinosaur dance and song, which was him stomping around roaring, saying dinosaur, then wiggling his tush.  Analise sang me lots of songs about love.  That video melted my heart into a swirly mass of love.  Saturday night Dave and I watched the documentary Babies, which I loved with a hurt heart, just wishing I could have another little one.  I still get those twinges sometimes, but I know it isn't meant to be.

Sunday we skipped church.  Dave let me sleep in, the brought me breakfast in bed.  The big reveal made me cry.  Dave was supposed to come to San Diego with my in June.  I have to go for business, and we were going to use our airline miles to bring him with me for a vacation.  Instead, he turned in all of his points he had been saving for a couple years and bought me a nice digital camera, as ours is over 6 years old and really doesn't work anymore.  That man is so selfless sometimes.  We went to my Aunt Laureen's home for Chinese food with my grandma and 20 of my relatives.  It was so nice and calm.  One of my aunts took my kids to the park across the street for a couple hours and they had a blast.  Dave felt comfortable enough with a family member to tell them about Dave's bipolar diagnosis.  I was so proud of him.  Not only did he genuinely enjoy himself (he asked if we could stay longer when I suggested that we go home) but he also felt comfortable enough to reveal this big part of himself.

When we got home we relaxed and let the kids sleep.  We watched some 30 rock on Netflix, talked, etc.  When the kids woke up we played outside, spent time snuggling, and it was just amazing.  I am so blessed to be a Mom to my kids and a wife to my husband.

I am being considered for a really exciting national award for non profit service.  I sound so Academy Award esq, but it really is just an honor that a few people have nominated me for this award.  There will ultimately be one winner, a person under the age of 40 who has already significantly impacted the world through their non profit work. 

 

I often fight internal conflict over what I do for a living, and if the blood, sweat and tears I pour into my career creates the lasting change our world needs.  For every homeless person who finds shelter, health care and food through our services there are at least 10 more on the waiting list.  Unfortunately at least 20% of the people we serve end up falling off the wagon, or losing a job, and revisit homelessness.  More than that, though, I wonder if taking my first world life of relative prosperity in the United States, and exorbitant prosperity compared to all populations of the world, and dedicating it to eradicating societal ills is little more than a feel good measure about choice.

 

When I first began to study social work I read many books about the first social workers, the ones who used personal judgment calls to adjudicate resources, the ones who began their give-back to society out of feelings of boredom and listlessness.  I threw myself into understanding the difference between community lead change and society driven norms.  I fell in love with true grass roots movements, with community organizing, with voter registration drives and criminal record expungement.  I often berate myself for wanting a comfortable life while still using my life to better my community.  I spend ridiculous amounts of time debating my purchases in the face of what the money could be used for instead. 

 

A couple of years ago, around the time Analise was given an optimistic health outlook, I started to invest in myself.  I allowed myself (and trust me, it really was giving myself permission) to get professional haircuts instead of cutting my own hair, to get pedicures simply because I wanted to feel good.  This transition into A) realizing that I will never be Mother Teresa and can still be a good person and B) understanding that being selfless isn’t always the right answer was extremely challenging for me, but I made it to this new space.

 

Now, with the thought of being rewarded for excellence, my internal voice of (un)reason keeps piping up to remind me that I really could do more.  I could help the earth by only buying 2^nd hand clothes.  I could buy organic health and beauty products and fair trade chocolate.  I hate this struggle.  I have yet to figure out why I can’t be content with the “is” of my life, instead of focusing on the “could”.  Last night I had a nightmare that, when called to give my award acceptance speech, my stage fright turned into verbal diarrhea and I blurted out “farmers in under-developed countries suffer because I can’t afford fair trade coffee and chocolate, sometimes when my push mower gets overwhelming I borrow our neighbors gas lawnmower to finish the job, and I even let my kids watch TV but I justify it because it is on Hulu or Netflix and doesn’t have commercials.” 

 

I woke up in a cold sweat.  Then I laughed.  I laughed so hard I woke up Dave.  I laughed so hard that I thought I would pee my pants.  Seriously, Sarah, get a grip!  In honor of my blatant misplaced terror of being found a phony in life, I offer this list of things I do with regularity that disproportionately embarrass me

 

1. I let the shower warm up before I jump in, even though this wastes hundreds of gallons of water a year
2. I use disposable plastic razors when I shave my legs and rarely remember to recycle the plastic
3. My son wears disposable off brand diapers that use bleach and dye and gel, a real horror for land fills
4. I don’t compost my garbage
5. My glasses cost more ($150) than anything else I own, and I intend to always spend a lot on this essential face jewelry
6. I just wrote two things that I erased because I realized that my embarrassment was too great, including something about my diamond ring that lost its diamond
7. I keep a second fridge running in our basement for fresh produce, even though the energy cost is huge and I could just go shopping more often
8. I have started to watch TV again, sometimes as much as 3 hours a week.
9. I never remember to recycle batteries
10. Sometimes I smile and say “It’s so worth it!” when speaking about the lack of sleep from parenting, or the lack of free time because of my work.  This is my go to answer when I really want to say “I am F*CKING exhausted and tired and cranky and sometimes I want to use a sleep aid so i can turn off my brain just for a little while and and and life can be great and suck simultaneously, you know.”

 

There, I feel better letting this little bit of my crazy out into the universe.  Now if I can just stop having nightmares about an award I don’t even know if I will win, invest in a fancy shower head to replace my low flow model and get my annual pedicure life will feel awesome!

We made it- Gus is at the most adorable and fun stage of the very early years.  He is picking up words with steam, putting them together, and getting excited when he communicates and it is understood.  I know people can consider two year olds terrible, but I absolutely love this time of a child's life.  Every single day is full of discovery in the world and in their own abilities.  Love love love it.

Last night Gus kept repeating the word bubbles non-sensically while I was reading a bedtime story.  I look at him and said "tomorrow Gus, Bubbles tomorrow." THEN I realized that this was a new word for him.  He looked at me and said "momma!  Bubbles! This! Bubbles!" Sure enough, there was a drawing of bubbles on our current book page.  I smiled and clapped and gave him a kiss on the nose to affirm that I knew what he was saying.  On Thursday I took both kids to my parents house in the morning so Dave could get into his new primary care doctor for a consultation.  When we pulled up to my littlest one started cheering, clapping and laughing when he realized where we were going.  

OH, and earlier this week I was having a terrible time getting him to go to bed.  He asked for a snack using 'sign language'- he ran out of his room, opened the pantry door, grabbed a loaf of bread and brought it to me in his room.  We went into the kitchen and, after grabbing a fruit leather, he said "Momma! this (raises piece of bread) this (raises fruit leather) Milk Bed!" I repeated his request, "you want to eat your piece of bread, your fruit leather, then take your milk to bed with you?" He smiled from ear to ear and nodded emphatically.  Then he repeated the entire 'sentance' about 6 times while he finished his snack.  AWESOME!

I absolutely love this stage of learning because I know the answers.  Analise is in a fascinating stage of learning, too, but she is so advanced I have no idea how to answer her questions.  I always want to go for truthfulness, but when an almost four your old lobes questions I don't know the answers to life can get complicated. 

A sample from our week:
Why are we supposed to be kind when it doesn't get us what we want?
Why aren't you and Daddy going to have more babies? do you like babies?
How do worms poop
Why can't I use the same words Kate does?
Why do you love me more than moon beams?

The wonderful part of life is that I can enjoy it again.  This week I secured a free venue and food for a fundraiser, signed memorabilia for a raffle, a pro-bono promotional video by an award winning artist, and a letter of support from Detroit's Mayor.  Doing well at this job feels awesome, I never work more than 45 hours a week, And my boss trusts me and therefore stays pretty hands off while I work.  Enjoying my job means I enjoy my children more.  Enjoying my children more makes me a better mom.

One more Gus moment.  We were playing outside in our sand and water table.  Gus would bring me over sand food to eat, laugh hysterically when I pretended to eat it, and finish it off with a little circle hop dance move that makes me want to giggle and dance, too.  I love having summer birthday babies, I would hate to reach this uber fun stage of learning when you couldn't go outside and experience it!

Non family news is great, too.  I finally recieved my first pay check today, with $15 left in our account.  Woohoo.  And the amount, even factoring in doubling our 403b contributions and taking the 15K pay cut, is still more than my take home pay from my last job because of the health insurance.  This weekend we have a friend coming over tonight, tomorrow Dave and I are going on a bus tour of Detroit while my parents take the kids to the zoo, and Sunday we are having our new neighbor friends, who have a 3 and 4 yea old, over for a barbeque.  I am exhausted from only sleeping 5-6 hours a night, but other than that life is beautiful.

I am in love with life.  Seriously, ecstatically, perhaps a tad naively in love with life.  We had an amazing 4 day visit with Dave's mom Kathy that quelled Dave's fears about losing his closeness with his family over our move.  She arrived Thursday evening, after the kids and I were sleeping.  Friday we went to the famous Detroit pizza place Buddy's, which lived up to my childhood memories.  Well, the food did.  The parking lot now has a barbed wire fence and an armed guard, so that was different.   Afterward we went to my favorite Detroit place, Belle Isle, and played at the conservatory and nature zoo.  Our day was wonderful in its simplicity, but it also felt great to show off a bit of our new home base to our family.

Saturday we changed plans when we woke up and saw the glorious sun.  We stayed home all day and celebrated Earth Day by setting up a sand and water table, attacking the front of our house with hedge clippers and tree trimmers, weeding everything and planting a small garden.  Kathy is an avid conservationist, and It was really fun to have her help us turn our outdoor space into something special.  We topped off the afternoon with Chinese take out, delicious in its 'ready for pick up by the time you drive there' simplicity.  The kids crashed early from all the sun, so Dave and I snuck out to see a movie.  We saw The Conspirator, which was good but not great.  Being the history nerd that I am, I was a bit miffed that some thematic building was done on the story line to tell a lesson for today's generation at the expense of being honest with history.  Yes, it was a screaming indictment of allowing fear and war to overtake our observance of rights and due process.  I value this message and believe in its importance.  However, I thought the movie could have still achieved this story arc without toying as much with soliloquy.   

Regardless, it was wonderful to have a date with my husband.  He is seriously so good looking he makes me melt daily.  I love that I can still blush while feeling awesome that he chose me whenever we are out in public.  I love that man.  Love love love.  I may not always believe in the power of fate, but I do not think there has ever been a better snap decision made in this world over the decision I made in less than 48 hours to marry my husband.

Easter was joyous.  We avoided crisis in the morning by not making Analise dress up.  The girl does not like dresses, or dress shoes, or to have anything in her hair.  For a long time I tried to get her to do these things on special days, but I realized that I dont really care if she does or not, and she would be 100X happier if we celebrate her as herself, not as a dressed up picture card version of self.  With that, she was an angel the entire day and was amazing.  Gus did dress up, and I nearly died from the cute.  It really doesn't get better than Dockers and a sweater vest on a baby.  I may have taken 23049832 pictures of him, in the event that he also decides that dress up clothes aren't for him.

The Easter Bunny left baskets with sports equipment for the kids, which they loved until they received baskets from relatives latter in the day and found out that the baskets were supposed to have candy in them.  Oh the outrage!  After we found the baskets we went to church and Analise stayed in the worship service the entire time to watch a play of the velveteen rabbit.  It was a wonderful celebration of transformation through love and belief.  I was so pleased that the concept of transformation was part of the service.  

In the afternoon we went to my aunt Laureen's home where we gorged on food and the kids had an egg hunt.  Kathy was such a trooper with my enormous family, I think she may have even had some fun!  My children received 4 easter baskets and fell in love with the holiday.  They played so well and behaved with such kindness, I was truly impressed.  Most kids have melt downs when they have sugar, it is just a fact of their lives.  Even though my children rarely get candy in their every day life, they ate a ton of it at the party and still remembered their manners the entire day.  Gus even went around the house and kissed everyone goodbye without any prodding. If I could be more proud of my children I would burst with it, I really would. 

When we returned home the Easter Bunny had left the kids eggs in our yard, too, which made them declare that they had 4 Easters in one day.  Being the parents we are, the kids had stickers in most of their eggs, which confused and also delighted them.  When we were done with the hunt and playing outside the real effects of the candy levels hit them.  There may have been some partially naked dancing while waving easter flags and singing Peter Cottontail involved in our quest for bedtime.  At 9:15 Dave put the kids in the car and drove around the block until they passed out.  We have never had to do that before, but it worked and they were home in 20 minutes.

I am so blessed to live this life.  I feel like me again, renewed to my previous state of annoyingly persistent optimism with a hint of seeing the love first in all situations.  Goodness, I missed this me so much, I hadn't even realized how far away from it I traveled.  Life is good.

Life is so good right now.  Our move went so smoothly I keep wondering if something will change to be more in line with our usual luck.  Our kids love having a house so much-- watching Analise choose where to be in the house and get so completely excited when the answer isn't "on top of everyone else in the family always" has made my day numerous times.  I feel like our luck continued to remind us that this was the right decision.

Awesome stuff, list edition
1. Food isn't taxed, and we found an amazing fruit market on our second day here.  We bought amazingly fresh and delicious produce that literally cost 1/3 what it would have in Chicago.  My cooking is much healthier and more delicious, too
2. Next week Detroit is hosting an annual conference about turning the rust belt into the artist belt, totally in line with what Dave wants to do with his company.  He was able to purchase an all inclusve pass for both days, and my parents are going to watch the kids
3. Our niece had her fourth birthday party yesterday and we were able to be a part of it.  We made her a pirate chest full of booty, a treasure map, and attached a shovel.  She was bowled over by the fun of it.
4. We have had more social interaction with friends and family in the last week than we had over the last 4 months, and it never took more than 15 minutes to get anywhere for a visit.
5. We took the kids to two museums, are going to two more, and have already found an artist hang out downtown
6. I was interviewed for NPR's all things considered today regarding planned changes to the required down payment.  It was awesome to be able to speak about the social implications relating homelessness and the mortgage crisis.
7. Our first service at our new Unitarian Church inspired me beyond words.  I haven't felt that understood in a collective room in a very long time

I am happy beyond words.  Dave has made it through this move with such skill and grace.  Our children are already flourishing, and I feel like having extended family present and engaged in our lives on a weekly basis will be completely enriching.  I feel so good right now.

We are packed, have deep cleaned the apartment, and have even cleaned all the kid grub off the floors.  We have never been this ready a full day before we move.  I am beyond excited.  This morning we celebrated our last day of apartment life by having a loud and off key karaoke party in our living room at 10am.  We have terrible neighbors who consistently wake our children with music at 2am.  I felt really good waking them up this morning, lol.  Petty vengeance looks really bad on me.

The kids are very excited and ready to go..  My parents have helped our family friend prepare the house.  A crew came and cleaned everything, my parents eashed and rehung all of the curtains.  I cannot believe that in a day we will (hopefully) never have to share walls with neighbors again.  This is so huge for us, especially because we will be saving so much money by living there.

Dave and I have handled this move with (mostly) grace and kindness towards each other, and we are both completely ready to get out of Chicago.  I do wish I could have seen Maggie again before we left, but I guess that just means we will have to come and visit this summer.
 

This morning, Dave wrapped me in his arms in the kitchen, turned on a sweet song, and danced me around.  We have been at each other, mostly for a lack of a better outlet, for a few days.  But this moment, sinking in to each other's arms and swaying to music that means something to us, recentered our attention on what matters.

After a song, our son snuck in and jealously demanded to dance with me.  Dave grabbed Analise, I grabbed Gus, and the four of us danced around the kitchen, sinking and loving each other.  Life tastes so much better when I allow myself the time to be fully present in the moment with my family like this, instead of thinking of the mountains of work that need to be accomplished.

Moving to Detroit is less than 20 days away. 

I am swimming in the details of this quick move.  Medical records are now ordered to be transfered, with the transfer paid for.  Y membership for Metro detroit is now initiated.  I started reaching out to contacts from my past to hopefully get a social life rolling.  My job already ordered me business cards. 

I have not packed anything.  Ack

I have a friend coming over all day Saturday to help, so that should be good.  We want to get the dining room cleared first, and use it as a staging area for boxes.  We own so little, but packing just scares me.  we are also giving away most of our furniture.  It just isn't worth moving, but someone else may really like purchasing it from salvation army for a play set or something.

I know everything will work out, I just feel so overwhelmed!

•  Love is home-made valentines with the glue still drippy and wet
• Love is receiving a petite box of three chocolates from your youngest child, but dividing each piece into 4 equal parts so everyone can enjoy
• Love is having your husband take the kids out of the house so finishing tax filing is possible
• Love is waking up to your son pretending to be a puppy and licking your foot
• Love is secretly hoping your daughter asks for just one more story because you aren’t ready to say goodnight, either
• Love is looking at photos from when you first met your husband and realizing that his looks are even more smoldering now that he has the worry lines of a father creasing his eyes
• Love is family
• Love is day dreaming about a pajama dance party at 3 in the afternoon to help you finish the last hour of work

I had many a terrible valentine’s day in my youth, some with imagined hurts over the “greatest love of my life” and some with legitimate bad shit. Now that I have removed myself from desiring the entrance of a flower delivery man, or the rose petal bath with lavender scented candles, I find that real love is so much better. I would not trade my gloopy valentines with finger smudges for a hundred flowers. 

 

I started writing this entry prepared to give a linear history of ‘love’ in my life of Februarys. But really, what is the point? Today I made human Schroeder sandwiches before work (I was the bottom bread, Gus was the cheese, Analise was the Pickle and Daddy was the top bread). Today my daughter already called me once to tell me that she loved me. Today I proudly hung the best valentines ever made around my office. And now, with 12 minutes to go before I go home, I am mentally compiling our dance party songs for the evening. My lifetime of real Februarys has only just begun.

 

**Sappy me, I know I know. I can’t help it, my family seriously makes me tear up from their awesomeness.

Doctor Phil makes me angry, again, with this lovely piece of parenting advice.  For those of you not wanting to subject yourself to reading the entire piece, let me offer a synopsis.  A mother writes in worried because her son, who is 5, likes Barbie dolls and dressing in girl clothes.  Dr. Phil urges the mother to support her son, just not the girly parts.  He suggests blocking his access to "girl" toys so as not to confuse him, and instead to buy him "boy" toys.

http://www.drphil.com/articles/article/258

I wrote about this last week, feeling ashamed that for a moment I didn't want a video of my son in a dress.  Not that I wanted to stop his creative play or his choices, just that perhaps we should not make a home video of it.  This "advice" by Dr. Phil, although far to the extreme of my own failure, made me realize just how wrong my worry was in light of my efforts to support my children's life choices from the earliest moment.

Analise has reached a new stage, thanks in part to having friends and going to school, where she is testing the boundaries of gender identity. She calls things girl games or boy games, girl colors or boy colors.  She says activities are girl only or boy only.  My answer always is "besides your private areas, there is no such thing as a boy thing or a girl thing".  It is amazing to me how quickly children see value in being a part of an exclusive group, which is only possible if someone else is, inevitably, excluded.  

I see Dr. Phil's advice as nothing more than expanding his vision of normal.  This wouldn't bother me so much save for the huge powerful force that Dr. Phil's advice can have on parents.  People turn to him and see his advice as truth, not his guidance based on opinion.  I can see many parents, previously on the fence about their child's play choices, moving towards gender normative and hetero normative practices because of this advice.   

Last night, Dave and I watched an episode of Dexter.  It was a season three episode where Rita has problems with her pregnancy.  There was a long dramatic panning shot of the fetal monitors, and my heart started racing.  Dave closed his eyes and said "I've had enough of that".  It must have been a 3 minute segment total, about 45 seconds focused on the monitors, but it shook both of us.  Is it even possible to have pregnancy related PTSD?  We talked about it, about how both our hearts were racing and how those sounds were enough to completely take us both back to the agonizing terror of our pregnancies.  I know some people find it offensive when we say "our" pregnancy, not "my" pregnancy, but when it is as traumatic and life threatening and scary as ours were, the experience did not belong to me alone.

Last night I had a very vivid nightmare, reliving the one time Dave and Analise were with me in the hospital room when I crashed and became the "active emergency" of the wing, with codes being shouted over the PA and all available hands rushed into my room to help me and Gus make it.  In reality my family was escorted out before I even completely lost conciousness, but I still remember the look of terror on their faces.  In my dream, they stayed and watched everything.  I was outside of my body, watching the scene unfold, while Analise insisted that if she gave me a bandaid I would be all better.  In the dream I never woke up again.  In the dream Gus never had his first breath.  In the dream I couldn't move my body enough to let my doctors and nurses know that I wasn't really dead, and that Gus was still moving, too.

I woke up in a cold sweat panic.  I couldn't catch my breath or move.  When I slowed my pulse enough I went into the kids room and they were both sleeping soundly, as the logical part of my brain knew they would be.  I kissed their heads and crawled back into bed.  I kissed Dave's nose and tried to go back to sleep.  That is the worst dream I can remember having ever in my life. 

I don't know if this is really PTSD, as this is the first time I have had a full blown panic attack in the last 15 months.  This also solidified that Dave and I made the right choice to permanently end the possibility of more children.  It was only the sound of the monitor, paired with scrambling to watch the heart accelerations to understand what the baby was feeling, that triggered both of us back into a place of fear.  I cannot imagine being in a fetal monitoring room, with the wires and the straps, the silent prayers and brave but fake faces.  I hope last night was just a temporary fluke of raw emotions, but another dream like that could really knock me out.

Do all parents have issues with fighting hetero-normative urges? 

I know this may seem like a repetitive theme in my journal, but I worry often about my children hiding who they are because of the way we construct the idea of normal in our family.  This is why we have multicultural dolls, why we do not have adult TV on when they are awake, why they come to work with me and meet people with disabilities.  We read books with all sorts of family dynamics represented, and when they ask about what marriage means I always use inclusive language.  But those things, those small choices, are more habit than purposeful.  And sometimes I catch myself out of my own habits and failures, trying to gender my children.

Today, Analise and I were romping around playing dinosaur predators (we were acting out different types of dinosaurs, and if she correctly identified the plastic model carnivores we would have them eat the herbivores while talking in silly voices).  Gus came in to the room and wanted to play ballerina, holding out several tutus and ballet slippers.  I dressed him up and he twirled around the room giggling, while Analise continued to name predator dinosaurs who now wanted to eat a Ballerina-Gus-A-Saurus.  We were having a blast, then I look up and see that Dave had broken out the video camera.  I hate even admiting this, but I immediately wondered if this would scar Gus in later years when he tries to assert his masculinity. 

My intense joy over our playfulness was momentarily overtaken by fears of creating future problems for my child by allowing him to live out this favorite past time of dancing while wearing tutus.  This bothers me because I love Gus as Gus, not Gus as future macho guy, or future sportsman.  I love every potential future he could have so long as that future is him living out his personal desires and passions.  But for a moment I forgot this and feared what a harmless moment of dress up would do to his ego.

My kids are not gender normative.  Analise does not allow any ornaments on her person, be it hair ties or jewelery.  She only wears gym shoes, even with dresses, because she doesn't see the point in shoes that making running harder.  She did tell me today that she wants to be a doctor and a mommy when she grows up, which is awesome.  She used to tell me she wanted to be a daddy when she grew up.  The thing is, these are her preferences, not her choosing an identity box to check for life.  I encourage her to make choices that are responsible and have kindness at their core, but everything else is simply a choice.  She probably has 20 dresses from grandparents that have never been worn.  But in her, too, I see myself wanted to label her as a tomboy instead of as Analise. 

What is my point?  I despise how often I catch myself questioning my parenting or labeling my children's choices based on hetero-normative principles I do not believe in, but still have ingrained somewhere in my brain.  I get angry when relatives tell me Gus just needs more boy toys to get over his girlishness.  What is a boy toy, by the way?  Aren't toys just learning tools for development?  I get frustrated that people buy Analise princess crowns, dresses, and toddler high heels (yes, they are real, and yes, they are as terrifying as they sound) and buy Gus trucks and bugs.  In truth, they are both happiest when they steal each others toys.  I feel this strongly, and yet I had a breif fleeting moment of personal failure today when I looked at Dave and wanted to ask him not to tape our son in a dress.

Is it normal to be this conflicted?  I am not conflicted in my beliefs, at least I don't think I am, but my gut reaction can be such a far cry from that belief structure that I feel like I am failing.

And the last unanswerable question of the post: Does every parent doubt themselves as much as I do, even when their kids are turning into amazing human beings as they grow?

I haven't written about sleep since November 19th.  This is because Guster's illness started a sleep regression on November 28 that has not yet stopped.  His little body is so pumped with stimulants to regulate his asthma that his sleep is completely disrupted.  Have a smattering of good sleep, a week here and there, was amazing.  My relationship with my amazing husband hit pre parenthood levels (READ: sex life).  I was refreshed and focused at my job.  My skin cleared up, I ate better, and I went from drinking 6-9 cups of coffee a day to 2 cups.  I miss that life.

Analise also learned a new sleep trick.  She sneaks into our room around 3am, when she usually wakes up to use the bathroom.  She sleeps with her head rested on my knees for a couple hours.  The first cracks of sunlight around 5:30am send her scampering into her bedroom until I wake up for work at 5:45am.  When I notice her, I ask her to go back to bed most of the time.  Sometimes, though, when I am really desperate? I leave her and Gus in the bed with Dave and go and sleep in their room.  I feel bad, but working momma needs some sleep.

I know this sleep regression is normal at Gus' age.  This started exactly on time for the usual 1.5 year old sleep regression.  Between his age, his asthma, his medication and his (still loud and uncomfortable) cough, I can't really blame the little man for taking over our bed.  I can, however, make a resolution to get our bed back.  I loved co-sleeping with the kids when they were little.  I am not by nature a co-sleeper, though.  I need space, I need room to move around.  We always planned to stop the co-sleeping after nursing ended. 

The solution is simple.  I need to take him back to his room every single time he wakes up until he realizes that he will have to just readjust to being in his own room.  I won't ignore his cries, I wont suddenly believe that allowing my children to cry it out is a good match with our parenting choices and philosophies, but I will put my own need for sleep on the back burner for the short term knowing that the long term benefits of regaining a parent only space will be worth the struggle.

I have a feeling that my coffee consumption will continue to rise as we figure this out.

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On a totally different, yet tangentially related, topic I want to talk about Gus' language.  He has come leaps and bounds in his ability to verbalize.  He doesn't have word pronunciation down yet, but he is working hard. 

List A- Words Gus can say that anyone can understand
1. Mama
2. Dada
3. Lise (as in Analise)
4. Ball
5. Baseball
6. Duck
7. Bread
8. Dinosaur

Babies his age are "supposed" to have 10-50 words.  He is close enough, in my opinion.  He also has other "words" that Dave and I can completely understand, which I count towards his word list.

List B- Words Gus can say that Dave and I ungderstand
1. Basketball
2. Now
3. Olivia (as in Olivia the Pig from the book series)
4. Tinkerbelle
5. Fairy
6. Fish

He signs for love, please, thank you, yes and no.  He is getting to the point where his comprehension is so far above his language ability that he releases frustrations in the form of tantrums and screaming.  I can relate, though.  I hate when I try to express myself and receive blank stares from my conversing partner.  My work with people with disabilities has also made me aware of how deeply depressed and frustrated people can get when their available methods of communication to not match the ideas they need to express. 

He is, of course, continuing me to challenge any notion I have of nature vs. Nurture.  None of our temper tantrum methods from Analise' temper period are working.  Teaching him sign language took a lot longer and produced far fewer regularly used signs.  Giving him one on one attention, talking to him like a person, not using baby language anymore, reading him at least 20 books a day, none of these actions are helping him learn language. 

He is so smart, too.  He knows 1/2 of the alphabet already,and also knows his colors.  He can correctly identify 6 types of dinosaurs based on their pictures and has taken to "singing" along with me during our nighttime routine.  I am fine if he doesn't speak until he is older, I just need to help him find ways to communicate enough to ease his frustrations. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This complete free-writing exercize keeps leading me away in new directions.  We have a problem with Gus that I have no idea how to combat.  He bites.  No only does he bite, but he does it to show love, not anger.  When he is feeling happy and content while playing with someone, he will "affectionately" bite them as hard as he can, sometimes drawing blood.  We don't believe in time outs for kids under age 2 (or really under age 3) so we are trying to teach him not to do this using our words and occasionally pointing our finger at the bruise/blood while we shake our head NO.  This is not working.  I have eliminated all playful nibbling from my interactions with both kids, no more playful toe nibbles or raspberries on the belly (sadness).  Instead, we increased our kissing and hugging and tickling.  It still isn't working.

I have no idea what to try next.  We don't believe in physical reprimands with our kids.  We don't believe in raising our voices unless we are indicating danger (IE if they are about to touch the stove we use the loud voice, or if they are about to run in the parking lot) to make sure they see the immediate severity of those situations.  We have tried time outs with Analise, but only at an older age.  He is obviously too young to just say "hey you, it hurts when you bite me, can we try snuggling instead?"

What in the world is left to deter him from this action short of coating our bodies in yucky tasting laquer like they use to help you stop biting your nails?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dear Fuzzy,

 

Sorry for the nickname, but your cousin Analise decided that it was her turn to name a baby, as your mommy already named your sister Kate and I had already named her. So, Analise named you Fuzzy and I fear that name is going to stick with you forever. Sorry about that.

 

I love you, even though we haven’t met yet. Your mommy and I have been friends since the day I was born. She and I played together, fought each other, and most of all stood up for each other. She is a good egg, you are lucky to be her child. I started writing you so many letters while your mommy was pregnant with you; letters about my hopes of meeting you, of holding you and showing you love. I wrote to you about the terrible fears and uncertainty we all felt as we urged your Mommy’s body to hold on to you a little longer to give you a great chance at being born perfect. Mostly, I wrote to you about how all the rooting for you, all the love being shared across the universe for you, all the cheering you on as you bravely stayed in uterus one more day, was nothing compared to how much love I already have in my heart for who you are and who you will become.

 

When your Mommy and Daddy asked me and Uncle Dave to be your Godparents we were, and are, honored. To be a Godparent means they trust us to show you our moral compass and help guide you on a path to being the best possible person in the world. Our kids rely on us for this service as a default, but being chosen as a guide makes me gulp. I always thought I was a much better mom before I actually had kids, more of the right answers readily accessible when I wasn’t living through their moment in real time. In light of this I would like to take this 24 hour period of Godparent-hood pre Godchild to share some wisdom that otherwise might never been revealed.

 

Lessons I learned from being alive

1. Every single person deserves kindness and love and respect. Being a human being on this planet means that inevitably several things will happen to you. This will include far to many moments where people are big jerks for no reason, or at least not for any reason you can detect. So what. Who you are is independent of who they are, or their motivations for their actions. I like to pretend that every driver who behaves irrationally either has a pregnant woman in the back seat or is rushing home to see a war hero who unexpectedly returned from Iraq injured but alive. Sure, most of the time neither of these ideas are true, but they always could be true. That’s enough for me when determining my actions.
2. Love requires work, guts and determination. Most of us fantasize about meeting our soul mates at some point in time. Falling in love is easy. Staying in love, appreciating each other, and remaining commitment through the toughest of situations takes courage and crying and pure grit to accomplish. If you ever need a reference point ask me about the first year of Analise’s life, or ask your mommy about the effects of the great recession. Forever love takes courage, but is most definitely worth the work!
3. Write down the first and last names of all your friends in your photos. Right now it feels like you will never forget those kids you spent that awesome summer at the beach with, they really got you in a way no one else could ever get you. However, after a couple decades you may look back at all these memories with fondness, paired only with your complete inability to remember who the hell these people are and why you have a picture of them wearing a ping pong paddle in place of pants. Write down their names and dates. It makes the memories all the more hilarious when you reacquaint years down the line.
4. Nothing you do will ever make us not love you. I mean it, even though you won’t believe it until you are a mom or dad and trying to explain this to your son or daughter or godchild. Ninety percent of those things you think no one would love you if you shared? Between me and your uncle Dave, and secretly maybe between your mom and dad, we have done them, or at least fantasized about doing them. When you scream “you just don’t understand” you will mean it, but I will mean it, too, when I reply “trust me, I do”.
5. RE #4 and #1. Everyone does something they are not proud of at some point in life. That is why we need to remember to always respect everyone, no matter how heinous, or annoying, or weird we find them. Our internal evaluation of their character and personhood has zero to do with the way we treat them. People do deplorable and despicable things all the time, but most likely we all have engaged in some sort of act that, based on religion or school or custom, someone in the world finds deplorable. Disagreement and disgust are not cause for disrespect. In the words of cliché 101 training, hate the act, not the actor.

 

I wish I could be there to hold you tomorrow. I will be there soon, though. I will be writing to you often, but most likely in letters I will not give you until you are older. I hope my actions can be moral compass enough for you, for now at least.

 

I love you Fuzzy,

Aunt Sarah

I have no idea why I became emo mid way through my post last evening then wallowed in it for the rest of the night.  One of my private resolutions (as private as it can be on a blog, LOL) is to allow myself to feel emotions on a range.  I tend to bottle in the negative until it explodes, which is a terrible choice.  If i dealt with the small blows better, or maybe even just admit to myself that they happen, then I would probably be happier most of the time.  I know this sounds like therapy 101 or a love yourself seminar.  I also know it sounds like the advice I give other people all the time.  I hate being such a black and white no grey area person.  I grew up with that sort of code, everything was all right or all wrong, everyone was either good or bad, etc.  I have grown a lot in regards to the world around me.  I see situations and people as more than a surface right or wrong.  I see most arguments as having many possible solutions, none more right than the other.  But when it comes to how I feel about myself, I can't seem to find that middle ground.  I hate this.  I am working on it.

Really, when I look at my life now I love it.  I never thought that by 29 I would be in an amazing and loving marriage with a man that completely adores me, yet challenges me to be the best possible person.  I never thought I would have a healthy child, let alone two amazing human beings who call me momma and think I am the bees knees.   Some parts of life suck.  That's because it is life.  Life is messy and rarely if ever falls into the all good or all bad categories I limit my viewpoint to.

The best line I ever heard during a stress management workshop went something like this.  "There are millions of people in this world.  A very select few will love you.  A slightly larger crowd will like you, a few more tolerate you well.  But the truth is, the majority wont like you.  People are going to find you excruciating to listen to, mind numbing to hang around with, and annoying to share a cup of tea with.  If you spend your limited hours trying to get those relationships to turn around you are just losing the hours you could spend with the people who love, like, and tolerate you."  It felt harsh at the time, but it makes complete and total sense.  I can throw myself out there to meet new friends, but knowing that most will go no where is important for perspective's sake

So many wonderful things are happening in and around our lives right now.  We have exciting potential life altering decisions coming our way in January, but both option A and option B are appealing in many ways.  Sorry for the cryptic message, there isn't much one can say publicly at this point.

My children astound me every day.  Analise is learning simple math with me, and now quizzes me when we are driving (Mommy, if I have a banana and a grape an apple and Gus takes an apple how many pieces of fruit do I have left?).    She sings songs every day, loves to dance, and has taken to being a helper in whatever way I will let her.  Sweeping, washing the floor, cooking, you name it.  As long as we do it together she loves it.

Gus has rebounded from his recent illness with gusto, and I believe he is back to his previous weight already.  His asthma (or as the doctor likes to call it asthma like symptoms because of his age) has caused a lot of issues for the little guy this winter, but he is learning to show us when he needs help.  I leave the nebulizer for his inhaler out (not the medicine, just the tube with the face mask) and he has taken to pointing at it when he is having trouble breathing.  This is an astounding development.  Now, after he points I can put my ear to his chest and hold his back to see if he needs his inhaler, as he doesn't really weeze.  When children learn to let you know their needs in a recognizable way, It becomes much easier to parent successfully.

Last evening we had two lovely friends over for dinner and a board game.  They like our children, and both kids were completely enthralled with showing off their toys and games.  Dave even found someone to play Magic with, which he hasn't had since he lived in STL.  

We no longer have a sitter for New Years Eve, which will be interesting because we have had a sitter every new years since we became parents.  To make an at-home tradition should be interesting and fun; most likely it will consist of playing board games and trying to stay up till midnight, lol.

2010 was sort of a year of extremes.  More accurately, I finally figured out that Dave is right, I view too may things in life as needing to be all one way or another, missing out on the delightful shades of grey life really takes.  For our first year as a complete family, I must say it was awesome.  A reflection and resolution post will follow this sometime before New Years I hope, but considering we haven't mailed out our Christmas cards yet this might be a stretch. 

This was the best Christmas eve since I was 8 years old and somehow "santa" found a way to get our presents under the tree while the entire family was at church Christmas eve.  I plan to write more details later, but some gems need to be recorded now before I forget!

- Analise looked at me and Dave while we all were sipping cocoa around the tree and said "Wasn't this a perfect day?"
- Gus rocked out to Run Run Rudolph so hard core that he flopped over on his head.  Not wanting to stop, he just wiggled on the floor while laughing his little head off
- Analise asked me if she could leave a cucumber for Santa with the cookies we baked him because vegetables give people energy and make their heart happy.
- Gus looked up at the video camera and said he wanted a ball for Christmas with the greatest look of delight.  I guess the ball pit was definately the right idea!
- Analise volunteered to bath and to brush her teeth
- Gus helped bake cookies by smashing each one into the cookie sheet with his adorable little fist

We picked up Dave from work and I announced that Christmas had started now that we were all together.  We made cookies for santa, then the kids and I made snowflakes while Dave cooked an enormous (and completely delicious) hot dog feast with three specialty hot dogs.  We danced and sang Christmas carols and had so much fun until dinner was on the table.  We ate too much, then I gave the kids a bath.  I set off the smoke alarm while boiling water, doh.  But after the tearful questions about why we weren't stopping, dropping, and rolling we got the kids dressed in their new pajamas from Grandma Kathy.

The end of the night was awesome.  I sat down to write the final letter for Santa when Analise hopped in my lap and asked if she could write it.  She scribbled as she wrote out what she wanted for Christmas, and also wrote what everyone else in the family wanted.  She made some jokes and laughed a lot, then let Gus help her put the final touches on the letter.  Next we sipped cocoa together and sang Frosty the snowman.  Analise then asked me if she could go to bed, and by 8:25 they were both fast asleep.  Once asleep Dave put together the tricycle, I blew up the ball pit, and now Dave is artistically laying out the rest of the (far too many) presents.

I can't remember a moment in life that compares to my level of happiness right now. 

Yesterday was my first day of break and it was so good.  Dave was off, too, so there was gingerbread house making, singing Christmas songs, decorating another tree Analise convinced me when we needed when we went to the grocery store, and of course lots of wrapping.  I don't know how I ever felt joy before having this amazing family of mine.  Seriously, how lucky am I?  Analise sang "guster the snowman" while putting together the gingerbread house.  Gus looked at Dave and said "baseball!" clear as day.  Analise went to the grocery store with me for a mom daughter excursion and every single person told me she was extremely well behaved and just awesome.

Oh, and the night before last was my work holiday party for executives.  Dave and I had a sitter and went as a couple.  How sexy is my husband?  He has the great curly hair eighties look now, just like I like it, like Kirk Cameron from the Seever (sp?) family.  We didn't stay past dinner, and when we went to pick up the kids my friend who watched them could not stop talking about their manners and kindness towards each other.  I take so much pride in that, seeing that the work and time we put into our children is really working.

The topper on the cake is that Ian, my friend since before I knew who I really was,  surprised me with a call last night and the kids and I are going to meet him today for a little McD's play place action.  I always feel bad going and ordering only a soda so the kids can play, but what are you going to do?  Ian and I met at the Justice and Peace Institute, an amazing week long emersion in values and culture.  No matter how long we go without talking or seeing each other, he is always the most welcome visitor.  This time I think it has been over 4 years since we saw each other.  He has never met either of my children.  I love reconnections.

Our plan for tonight is to have a hotdog feast with 4 different kinds of specialty hotdog toppings (Dave's idea, as he loves hot dogs more than any other food, as does our children). Next, we write our letter to santa about how many homeless children the kids gave toys to over the year, and how many people they made presents for.  Then we are going to bake ginger snaps for santa, then it will be bedtime.  I have a feeling santa is bringing the kids a tricycle (woohoo for Analise's extreme growth and strengthening, she can finally ride one!) a ball pit, pillow pets and some other trinkets.  We went a little over board without meaning to, we try to keep all purchases to $100 or less and then give them a trip somewhere in the summer time.  Oh well, Dave is working so we felt like plurging!!!

I love Christmas.  I love my family.  I feel so completely fulfilled on so many levels.  When Dave gets off work at 4pm we will go on to have the best Christmas Eve and Christmas ever.  I think I am more excited now that I have been in a couple decades.  I get to bring the magic of giving and loving through Christmas to my children, and I could not be happier!!

Yesterday, while I was gathering my things to take inside after I parked the car at home, Analise must have heard me through the wall.  She runs fast as lightning waving and *bonk* runs right into the glass door.  How is that for an awesome welcome?  I get off work in 37 minutes for a nice 4 day weekend, woot!!!!  Gus has decided that I am his favorite thing/person/object of affection and hasn't let me go more than 2 feet away from him in the last week.  Everytime I try to walk away to do something alone, like pee, he says MOM and makes the sign for love.  My kids melt me, seriously melt me, every moment of every day.  I am so glad I get four days to be with them without interruption.  Dave only has to work Christmas Eve, 8am-4pm and Sunday 11am-3pm, so for the most part it will be all four of us playing together for Christmas.  Love love love love love

I just wrote a marathon entry about our thanksgiving, which was deleted by mistake.  piss.  I dont have the emotional energy to rewrite