(((...(parenthesis)...)))

Trying to figure it all out

2008-04-27T09:43:00.003-04:00

I've been having bit of an identity crisis with my blog lately. I've been thinking about time spent, long-term consequences, priorities, permanence, and shifting interests. I know this doesn't make a lot of sense, but it's all tied to motherhood and life decisions. Wow. That's vague. But it makes sense to me. And it doesn't help that there is so much talk about how people freaked out when Twitter shut down for a couple of hours. Really? Who are we? Honestly.

Whatever, I'll probably post again tomorrow. Who knows.

Poisson d'Avril

2008-04-01T14:17:00.002-04:00

My mom used to like to wake me early on April 1st to tell me that I didn't have to go to school because it was a snow day. Oh how lucky! This late in the season! I never woke up so easily as on April Fools' Day. I fell for it more than twice. Shame on me. I wonder if there are any other suckers out there sitting in school today who fell for the same thing this morning. I know it could have been worse.

So you see why I may be a little reluctant to believe certain things I see or hear today. I'm not one for trying to guess the fake news story. It's tiring. Which brings me to this. What do you think? Real or April Fools'?*

Hey, you have a fish on your back.

*Don't worry, I fell for it, too.

Sighting

2008-03-09T13:46:00.004-04:00

Maybe for some people this would not be a strange sight, but a couple of weeks ago while eating breakfast we saw this from our dining room window:

I know it's not the greatest picture, but you get the idea. Maybe I should take it as some kind of inspiration or metaphor for something, but Renée has been sleeping so poorly lately that my creativity is sapped. What do you think? Have you ever spotted hot air balloons from your house?

Semantics

2008-02-29T12:42:00.000-05:00

Last week, Renée decided to correctly say “Joseph.” Although she talks very well, for some reason she still called Joseph “Doph Doph.” I think Joseph is a little sad to see her pass through this stage, as are we. There was something cute about “Doph Doph.” And for Joseph, it was almost a sibling pet name. If we called him “Doph Doph,” he would say that Renée was the only one who could call him that. But now, even if Joseph says “Doph Doph,” Renée clearly repeats “JO-SEPH,” correcting him. Oh well, I guess it has to happen. Just don’t tell her that she is growing up, or she will only feel more justified in giving up her nap!

The secret is out

2008-02-12T20:50:00.000-05:00

Do you keep a blog? Yes, you do. Or a journal. Or something. C'mon, yes you do. Maybe I've already found it, and I've been reading it all along. But this one, this one I didn't know about (although I had my suspicions ). Anyway, she sent me this award and now her cover is blown. Welcome to the living, Shedding the Wolf! And thank you for sending this award my way.

And now, to whom do I bestow this lovely honor? I think I'll send it over to my knitting friend in Elko. TK over at Everywhere Knitting is living a wonderful adventure, and I love to read her updates. I hope that even though she is super super busy, she'll keep it up!

Back ache

2008-02-08T08:55:00.000-05:00

Even though we spent the whole day yesterday shoveling snow out of our driveway, I'm still not sure we'd make it down our street. I guess it's a good thing everything is still closed today. Here are a few pictures proving we got more than just a "dusting."

Happy

2008-02-05T09:47:00.000-05:00

Happy Super Tuesday everyone. And Happy Mardi Gras. Or Fat Tuesday. Or whatever you call today. Just happy.

Again about the pee

2008-01-28T10:34:00.001-05:00

I was about to post some pictures of the kids, but I then realized that I don’t really have anything current of Renée. Why? Ah, yes, could it be because she is never wearing any pants? That must be it. For the past three months, Renée has pretty much refused clothing. We compromise with forcing her to wear a shirt, and sometimes a jacket or sweater since it has been so cold. She doesn’t really seem to care about the cold. Pants are for wimps.

It actually all started when we were trying AGAIN to get Joseph to use the toilet. While he was telling us that his pee “doesn’t work on the potty; it only works on the carpet,” Renée took one look at the little potty and all the m&m bribes that we were offering Joseph and decided that she’d give it a go. She was sixteen months old, so we weren’t even trying with her. But I guess that’s the competitiveness between siblings. Well, that or the love of forbidden candy. Either way, she gets the idea (at least at home during the day). And as for Joseph, we’re just hoping that he’ll be out of diapers before he turns four so we can send him to preschool. At any rate, I’ll force her to get dressed soon so I can take a few pictures.

Who am I?

2008-01-17T13:00:00.000-05:00

I received an invitation to "examine the very next issue of Backyard Poultry magazine at no cost or obligation." Surprisingly (or not), the only thing required to enjoy this publication is "an interest in poultry-- any kind of domestic fowl." The sad part about it is I know exactly how I got on this mailing list. And I don't own a chicken. Or a cow. Or even a pitchfork. And I certainly don't "delight in watching the antics and interactions of chickens chasing a bug, scratching for tasty tidbits, and squawking in alarm or clicking in contentment." How about you?

Word of the year

2008-01-06T20:31:00.000-05:00

What do you think the word of 2007 was? My vote is "carbon footprint."

On second thought...

2008-01-02T14:19:00.001-05:00

If I had abandoned Christmas music altogether I would have missed some pretty important moments. First, Joseph had his first misunderstood lyric. He thought Jingle Bells was about “a one horse, soap, and sleigh.” And Renée became super emotional every time frosty “waved goodbye saying don’t you cry, I’ll be back again someday.” She would ask to hear the song over and over (we have a book to go with it), and every time she would stick out her bottom lip, trying to keep it together. But she would ultimately lose it, and tears would start shooting out of her eyes. Now that the Christmas books are put away, she does the same thing with the Incy Wincy Spider.

I hope everyone had a good Christmas and New Year.

Bah, Humbug

2007-12-15T21:36:00.000-05:00

I’ve had several dentist appointments in the last couple of weeks, including one to have my wisdom tooth pulled. And, actually, I was kind of looking forward to them, hoping that I would have some good lobby wait time so that I could start reading a book I recently checked out of the library. However, each and every one of my short windows of peaceful reading time was ruined by the dreadful sound of Christmas music. I can’t stand Christmas music. Why does every light rock station feel it is their duty to entertain us with a constant stream of jingling garbage? And why is it always so loud? Needless to say, I haven’t gotten very far in my book. Next week I make another trip to the dentist, but even if they decide to turn off Mariah Carey singing All I Want For Christmas is You, I probably won’t be able to get any reading done; because this dentist trip is not for me. It is for Joseph. He is going to the dentist for the first time on Wednesday, and I think he is already nervous about it. On second thought, maybe we could use a little Jingle Bells to lighten the mood.

Don't cry over spilled milk

2007-12-03T19:11:00.000-05:00

...unless of course it is organic and it costs you almost $6.oo a gallon. And you spill it during a dinnertime when your children are screaming and refusing to eat yet another meal that you spent time preparing.

Or, if like me, you look out your back window and realize part of your backyard fence has blown down. This of course not too long after your beautiful maple tree split down the middle.

Well, then maybe you can cry just a little bit.

Story time

2007-11-26T17:33:00.000-05:00

It’s starting to get that “winter” look outside, and it makes me want to stay in until April. But I know that would be bad for the little rug rats, and besides, I’d probably go clinically brain-dead from picking up all of the train track pieces from every flat surface of our house every day for five months. So where do we go? I’d like to go to the library to check out some new books, because if I have to read Trucks, Zoom Whizz Rumble just once more I think I’ll need medication. But the problem is that the best time to go to the library on Mondays is during “story time.” And honestly, I avoid story time like I avoid Walmart. Don’t get me wrong, all you library-lovers. I do the whole library thing. It’s just the story time that gets to me. First of all, I think there is some kind of Brown Bear, Brown Bear cult. Every time they read that book, all of the parents start chanting it along with the librarian. Picture a group of moms (sometimes a dad or two) half-whispering “Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see? I see a red bird looking at me. Red bird, red bird, what do you see? I see a yellow duck looking at me. Yellow duck, yellow duck…” It’s just creepy. One time they read some familiar nursery rhymes, and that didn’t happen. So it’s not just because the parents are familiar with the story. There is something about that book. But I’ll tell you what, I’m not feeling the need to join in on the chanting.

The second strange thing is that the librarian often does not really read the book. Sometimes, she paraphrases or skips lines. Maybe she thinks the kids don’t have the attention span for the chosen book. But if that’s the case, then CHOOSE A DIFFERENT BOOK! Or, at the very least don’t interject in the middle of the story to explain how you are soon going to visit your own little grandchildren in Colorado, and how excited you are to see them because you don’t get to see them that often, but you’ll have to really celebrate Thanksgiving on Wednesday instead of Thursday because that’s when everyone will be there. Even I don’t have the attention span for that. But I really don’t have the attention span for much lately. So maybe it’s just me. Perhaps we’ll simply stay in for the day. We can go tomorrow. I’ll just have to listen to that truck book again tonight. Please just tell me we have a little more red wine so I can have a glass after the kids go to sleep.

Time spent

2007-11-15T12:45:00.000-05:00

I’ve been in the mood to blah blah blah about myself a little too much lately, and I’ve neglected to fill everyone in on how my kids are doing. So here goes…

Renée has been occupying herself by unscrewing the handles off our bathroom drawers.

And Joseph, well he likes to do things like this:

What? you don’t know what that is? It's a garbage truck. Don't you see the "dumper" on the front? You see, that dumper is where we load all of our "old" toys and clothes and other things we don't want anymore. And then? And then we dump it in the back (loudly and somewhat obnoxiously) over the driver's head. Oh, and do you see the library books that didn't get returned with the rest because they were on their way to the dump site? I didn't think so, because neither did I.

Not your normal Monday morning

2007-11-05T09:07:00.001-05:00

Seeing me today you would think that I was completely jet-lagged from a long flight to China. But really it’s just Daylight Saving Time. I don’t know what it is about that one hour, but it kicks my butt. Things like walking into the kitchen seem like too much effort. And I have to change at least four more poopy diapers today? No thanks. I’d just like to sit around and keep thinking about how I might be able to get myself a job on one of those non-partisan think tanks. Seriously, how do those people get those gigs?

Bag discrimination?

2007-10-30T13:00:00.000-04:00

I’ve been trying to bring my own bags every time I go to the grocery store lately. When I first decided to do this, I thought that I might cause some stress to the customers in line behind me, or the cashier who would be forced to turn off robot bagging autopilot. For the most part this has not been the case. People seem normal when I dump my pile of canvas and paper bags on the conveyor belt. There are a couple of things I’ve noticed, however.

1. The cashiers put MUCH more in each bag. There would be no way they would put as much as they do in a plastic bag. Sometimes they are impossible to carry.

2. When I have things like milk, I’m always asked if I want it in a bag. When I get plastic bags, they never ask me that question. They just automatically put it in a DOUBLE plastic bag.

3. They don’t carefully pack fragile items. I once found my eggs under several other things (two had broken of course).

4. In stores other than grocery stores, cashiers don’t seem to understand. They get confused. I sometimes have to remind them more than twice during the transaction that I don’t want them to put my things into one of their bags. Look, my bag is sitting right there. Just put it in there instead. Or I will. I don’t care. More than a couple of times they still put my things in a bag and then when I take it out to put it in mine, they throw their bag in the garbage!

So, what is your experience?

Poopy poop

2007-10-14T18:06:00.000-04:00

Joseph has been into silly talk lately. It is not surprising to sit through an entire dinner of “iko iko eeena annna iko iko.” It drives me absolutely crazy. I usually try to ignore it, because any attempt at making sense of it turns into even sillier talk. He is also turning into such a boy, often talking about things like “poop” and “stinky garbage.” So it was not surprising when he told me today that I have a “poopness.” Sure Joseph, whatever. He later repeated that girls have a poopness. Sure Joseph, whatever. It wasn’t until later that I realized I probably was supposed to have had a teachable anatomy moment. It makes sense, doesn’t it? A boy has a pee-nis, so a girl must have a poop-nis, right? Here we go…

Our backyard

2007-10-03T13:33:00.000-04:00

I don't know what is more depressing, the annoying sound of my voice begging/tricking/nagging/demanding/reminding Joseph to eat just two little bites of his food, or this...

Before:

After:

OK. Enough about the tree already.

Money...

2007-09-25T13:14:00.000-04:00

What is all of this, you might wonder. Well, this is us in the middle of switching our house around. We now have two kids in one room. The room is upstairs by ours. And for all of you disbelievers, you nay-sayers, you skeptics, this is the part where I prove you wrong. This is where I'm supposed to say, "The room sharing of two horribly sleeping children worked. It literally turned our lives around!" I'm supposed to say it. But I can't. At least we don't have to go up and down the stairs ten times each night. And honestly, it couldn't have gotten any worse than it already was.

And! The kids got a playroom. This is how it turned out.

Not too bad. (Sorry about the lighting in the pictures, but you get the idea.) All I need is about $200 of shelving, and the room will be perfect. Of course I can't justify spending that. Not after this:

If you're not sure what that is, it's our maple tree in our back yard. Or it was. I have no idea how it happened, but it split down the middle and almost fell on our house. I really, really, really liked that tree. It is going to set us back $500 to put it out of its misery. So much for the shelves.

Long, long, nights

2007-09-18T13:58:00.000-04:00

Renée has decided to sleep like a newborn. By which I mean, she doesn't. The thing is, she doesn't really seem very tired during the day. But I sure am, let me tell you.

But hey, I have a friend who can knit like this. Do you?

Nine eleven

2007-09-11T11:59:00.000-04:00

As people observe their moments of silence today, I can't help but think about how much my life has changed since that morning at Regina when one of my students came into my classroom to tell me what had happened. I remember that it was also a Tuesday, and the counselors were huddled around a little t.v. in their office trying (like everyone else) to figure out what had just happened. I couldn't look at the television without crying for weeks.

It makes me think of all of the other high-stress moments (some quite tragic) that happened during my short career at that school. For some reason a group of girls made everything just that much more dramatic. Likewise, the happy moments bordered on manic.

When I left to teach for a year at a co-ed public school, I sometimes missed the fluffy, cuddly breakdowns. And sometimes I didn't. I felt like I had entered the real world. But then all of that changed when I had Joseph. I can hardly remember that old life. I'm not sure if this is the real world now, or if that other life was.

This day has turned into some kind of a yearly reflection. Where was I six years ago? What was I doing last year when I was thinking about it? Has anything really happened since then? Probably next year on this day Joseph will be in his first couple of weeks of preschool. I may be thinking about working again. Maybe Renée will take naps. Or maybe it will be just the same. Maybe I'll make a morning out of going to the bookstore to let the kids play with the train and then to Old Navy to buy more turn-cuff socks that are on sale for a dollar each wondering where on earth the year has gone.

No kidding!

2007-08-23T15:15:00.000-04:00

My salt grinder has some great kitchen tips. It says "great on chicken, beef, pork, vegetables & salads." I had no idea!

What I do know is that Tony started back to work this week (no students yet, just meetings), and I was not exactly prepared. It just snuck up on me. So here we go again. Wish me luck, because this year is going to be crazy. Now if I could just figure out a way to get some at-home work designing salt shaker labels...

This and that

2007-08-16T20:21:00.001-04:00

Renée must be teething because she is putting everything into her mouth lately. Every time she is chewing on something, I'm all, "CRAP, GET THAT OUT OF THERE. THAT THING WAS MADE IN CHINA!" I'm reaching a new level of insanity over here.

Tony thinks it might not be the teeth (although I hope it's the teeth -- she only has four). Instead, he thinks that she might be going through some kind of oral fixation caused by nursing withdrawal. She has now officially been kicked off the mommy keg. Forty-eight hours and counting. Victoria Secret bras HERE I COME!!!!!!!

Summer

2007-08-11T12:50:00.000-04:00

As promised, here are a couple of pictures...

Drought

2007-07-30T08:43:00.000-04:00

It looks like I took quite a vacation from updating. Here’s a quick summary of what’s been going on.

1. Renée turned one. We had a party.
2. Tam and Dan visited. Joseph made them ride “trains” a lot.
3. We went on a short vacation and spent a lot of time at the beach.
4. We tried potty training again. It went just about as well as last time.
5. Tony and I spent (and continue to spend) countless hours trying to
convince our children that they do not really want to play with the same toy. This is how it goes:

Child #1 is playing
Child #2 tries to play also
Child #1 does not want to share and starts screaming
Parent tries to find another activity for Child #2
Child #2 likes the new game
Child #1 also wants to play the new game
Go back to step one

We work on sharing, too. But the outcome is usually pretty much the same. I'll post some pictures next time.

Breaking up is hard to do

2007-07-08T21:17:00.000-04:00

I think that there is this thing that sometimes occurs in relationships. A person meets someone, and in the beginning, he/she thinks that this person has a quality that stands out, that makes this person unique. This quality might even be the main attraction, or at least a major attraction. But as time goes on, this quality does look so good anymore. It might just be downright annoying. It may even eventually be the downfall of the relationship. Time is a magnifier.

I suppose that buying a house is really the same thing as entering a relationship. And a lot of the problems are similar also. After some time goes by, one might wonder if the right decision was made. Can I overlook these flaws? Am I in it for the long haul, or is it time to say goodbye?

One of the reasons we bought our house was because of the old wood windows. They had panes and crossbars, and so much character. But after time, we could see how much maintenance they would require (and how much maintenance they had already required, but did not always receive). The cracks in a couple of the panes seemed much more problematic. They wasted energy, were impossible to clean, constantly dropped peeling paint and caulk, and sometimes even came crashing down unexpectedly. They didn’t fit our lifestyle with kids and no money. They could not stay.

We obviously started looking at replacing them with wood windows, but we quickly found out that we could buy a small house in this city for the same amount of money. And so, reluctantly, we had to buy vinyl replacement windows. It actually took us almost a year to come to terms with this decision. This might not seem like a big deal to some, but remember this was one of the main attractions for us. And in the end, the decision was not so bad. The new windows actually look quite nice on the outside, and not as horrible as I feared on the inside. They may not be a main attraction, but at least they are not an eyesore. I guess the question is, when that quality that was originally so great is gone for good, will it eventually be missed?

Update: I realized that some people might think that I was simultaneously talking about my relationship with Tony. Goodness, no. It's just the house.

Bronze stars all over the place

2007-06-26T20:19:00.000-04:00

Can someone please tell me what is up with the bronze star decorations that are popping up all of a sudden? Everyone seems to have one. Do you? Does it mean something? Were they all just on sale or something? WHAT?????? It's driving me nuts!

Itch

2007-06-12T21:12:00.001-04:00

Hey, I can hate the West Nile Virus with the best of ‘em, but honestly, do you really have to come down my street with the mosquito poison truck? Really, this happens here.

So yesterday I was enjoying a bit of computer/ice cream time after the kids fell asleep when I heard the dreaded sound of the fogger truck coming towards our house. I started running around the house like a crazy woman shutting windows. (I’m probably the only one doing this because everyone else is using air conditioning already.) Luckily the kids slept through it all because I certainly wasn’t quiet about it. Despite my frantic window slamming, I didn’t make it to the upstairs windows. At least it didn’t come in the dining room or kitchen. I can’t imagine it’s good to have insecticide on your table or dishes. It just can’t be good.

Brother and sister at the window

2007-05-31T20:47:00.000-04:00

Milestones

2007-05-23T15:58:00.001-04:00

Monday night I had to basically restrain Joseph in the Urgent Care Center so he could experience his first gigantic Q-tip being shoved down his throat. The doctor had to determine if it was strep throat that was causing his temperature to stay above 104 even with Motrin. It was strep. And an ear infection. I can't explain the diarrhea.

As I was answering questions about why we were there, I saw some paperwork with the words "blisters" and "hand." I was reminded of our last visit. Do you remember this? I sure do.

Potty training, Part one (of many, I'm sure)

2007-05-10T09:42:00.000-04:00

Joseph is almost 2 ½, so we thought with Tony between semesters right now it would be a good time to try the dreaded potty training thing. We had a plan. And a back-up plan. Now it’s time to take a break and think of plan number three. I’ll leave out all of the crazy details of the failures, bribes, and small successes. But it just couldn’t have turned out perfectly since it all started with Joseph sitting for the first time on his potty seat attached to the top of the toilet and then falling off head-first smacking his face on the bathtub.

Sorry

2007-04-30T08:31:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was so beautiful. I hope that as the cold foggy beginning of spring changes into days that allow us to go out more often, I find that it is all I have imagined. Because sometimes it's not. And as this lack of sleep combines with rain, I can't always distinguish between laziness and inability, or depression and boredom, or fatigue and apathy. The lines are blurred.

Choices

2007-04-21T21:55:00.000-04:00

The other day I was minding my own business when I came across this article , which just made me feel like crappity-crap-crap-crap. And that's just an article. For $16.47 I can get the whole book and feel miserable for 384 pages. At the rate I read lately, that would be a whole lot of misery. I suppose you can't win either way, really.

Not so bad

2007-04-16T13:01:00.000-04:00

It's Monday, and Mondays are usually a bit rough. The weekend is nice: I can go to the bathroom pretty much whenever I want, and I hear adult speech. But then Mondays come, and it's always a little bit of a shock-- both for me and the kids. Some are worse than others. Today is shaping up to be somewhat tolerable. The weather promises to let us at least take a walk outside. And sometimes I measure the quality of my day by how many poopy diapers I have to change (not just diapers, but poopy diapers). It's after 1:00 now, and I've only changed four. I guess I've got that going for me.

Update: In case you were wondering, the final tally... 6 (plus Tony changed one when he got home). As it turns out, the day could have been better.

Freedom is just another word for nothin' left to lose...

2007-04-09T13:23:00.000-04:00

Feeling stuck in the house again, but this time it's April. This isn't supposed to happen. Our big "outing" was going to Target. Woo Hoo. This is one LONG April Fool's joke.

More and more

2007-03-30T20:48:00.000-04:00

Not long after we finished removing the fairy princess wallpaper in the upstairs room that would become our bedroom, I decided to start picking at the dining room dot-and-paisley wallpaper. I’m neurotic, and I pick at things, so this isn’t surprising. And so you can fill in your own metaphor or cliché or song about what happened next—you know, the one that comes to mind when you start something small and it just keeps growing and growing and nothing goes right, but it’s been started, so you have to keep on going. Yeah, that one.

So what was once an innocent little peek at the condition of the wall underneath turned into a dining room table in the middle of our living room, complete with cancelled playgroups and puréed avocado on our carpet. And we are only about ¼ of the way done. What, you’re not jealous?

Bath time

2007-03-20T20:55:00.000-04:00

Excuse me while I recuperate from Joseph’s tantrum last night. It was a full-out throw himself on the bathroom floor, kick his feet, turn red in the face tantrum. Intense.

Lyrics

2007-03-13T14:02:00.000-04:00

Joseph was playing "boat" with the laundry basket the other day when he decided to rewrite Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash. It went like this:

I hear the boat a comin'
It's floating around the water
I'm seeing the sunshine
I don't know when
I'm stuck in Folsom boat
And time keeps draggin' on...

Resisting change

2007-03-12T13:27:00.000-04:00

I haven't posted in a while because Blogger wanted me to change over to a Google account in order to get the new and improved version. I've been resisting because it seriously felt like a huge hassle to register and create a password. I'm sick of the whole password thing. I'm tired of the registering all over the place. But I did it. It's done. I'm ready to update again. Well, after I rest for at least a day from all of this hard work.

Books

2007-02-24T22:00:00.000-05:00

I found (somewhat) what I was looking for. If you're interested in seeing what people are reading, or if you would like to keep a nice virtual library, check this out.

2.14.07

2007-02-14T16:38:00.000-05:00

No Photoshop. Just lots of love.

In the house.

2007-02-13T14:49:00.000-05:00

Still.

We ventured out this weekend, and I now feel round 3 (or is it 4) of sickness.

We will leave the house again tomorrow.

Looking for a change

2007-02-06T13:50:00.000-05:00

I'm done with the wind chill factor, and I'm done being sick. The kids or Tony and I or someone or all of us have been sick for a month now, and I need it to be over. I don't even want hot tea or a warm blanket or whatever it is you're supposed to get when you don't feel well. I want to be able to go to a store without the fear of microscopic organisms that might yet again make Joseph cough until he throws up. Can we just play in the snow or something without our fingers freezing off? The kid has never even made a snowman!

Book review #1

2007-01-25T19:57:00.000-05:00

I’m not liking any fiction lately. Or have I ever liked fiction? I keep reading it, so I must have at some point. I remember liking Margaret Atwood, especially Cat’s Eye. But I can’t seem to find anything lately that doesn’t make me roll my eyes at least once every couple of pages. I think I can excuse or at least overlook bad writing in non-fiction because the purpose of reading it is so different. I just finished reading The Highest Tide by Jim Lynch. I guess it was a “bestseller” (whatever that means), but I have no idea why. The characters were so shallow and unbelievable, and the transitions seemed like something out of a ninth grade English class. Well, okay, maybe a tenth grade class. But still. Not that I could do any better, or believe me I would. I like to think of myself as an armchair author.

I don’t really have time to read (only occasionally while feeding Renée at night). So I don’t want to waste my time. But I don’t want to give up on fiction altogether either. I wish there was a reading genome project. Too bad. Any ideas? Becky? Are you out there? Anyone else?

How you know you listen to too much NPR

2007-01-22T08:08:00.000-05:00

It is not uncommon to hear Joseph repeat something that he heard hours or even days earlier. Often it is something that Tony or I said. But sometimes he surprises us by saying something that we never would have imagined he had heard. A couple of weeks ago, he was running around the house and jumping up and down when I heard him say something. I had him repeat himself, because I wasn't sure I heard correctly. Sure enough, as he was jumping he said it again: "Barack Obama!"

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

2007-01-16T08:29:00.000-05:00

Winter finally arrived yesterday. And it’s about time too because Joseph has been waiting to use his new red snow shovel that he got for Christmas. This is good, because now the shovel is in the garage instead of in his bedroom. We’ve been using it for almost a month now to shovel toy bricks onto the “freight train.” Global warming global shwarming.

In other news, Tony got home from his week-long conference in Germany. The kids are now in their second week of a sleeping strike. They don’t sleep. Ever. Our dryer broke. And Renée had her first solid foods. Heigh Ho!

2007

2007-01-04T14:12:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year everyone. Hopefully one of you purchased your Michigan Millionaire lotto ticket in Jackson. It seems to have been the lucky spot. Although we didn’t win a million dollars, we had a great New Year’s Eve (Even though it was celebrated at 6:00 instead of midnight. I don’t do midnight on purpose.) Tony’s mom helped us to continue Tony’s childhood tradition of making chocolate fondue. We let Joseph have some, and he turned into an eating zombie. I mean, we placed a huge plate of fruit in front of him. And let him dip it in chocolate. He’s already looking forward to 2008.

Glee happens

2006-12-25T15:10:00.000-05:00

For an extra-special holiday treat, we were invited to a “cookie exchange” this year. We are not really the cookie exchange kind of family (or maybe we are, who knows), so I didn’t really know what to expect. We made peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips. I really liked them, but was surprised to see that we brought the “plain” cookie. How embarrassing. One family brought “church windows” (see above), and another brought “baby Jesus” cookies (really I’m not making this up), which kind of looked like crescent rolls (but tasted better) with almond paste in the middle. If the cookies weren’t over-the-top, they were at the very least festive in their food coloring. Ours looked so brown. I was later told by a mom in Joseph’s playgroup that when you go to a Christmas cookie exchange you are supposed to bring your “best cookie”. I’ll keep that in mind for next year. I guess the purpose of a cookie exchange is that when you have big holiday gatherings, you can pull out an assortment of unique, homemade cookies for your guests. Instead, we ate all of the best ones before anyone even got a chance to see them.

We did have guests, though. And we had plenty of cookies and desserts and other food. Joseph had a great time seeing family and opening presents. Renée, on the other hand, doesn’t understand presents too much, and is going through a phase where she really only wants to be held by her mommy or her daddy (which can get tiresome at times). But Joseph gets it. And as each day passes with more family gatherings, and more presents trickling in, he looks more and more like a little boy. Even now, I can hear the sound effects coming from his room as he plays with his new train. This year was so simple. Joseph was super excited to get a kid-sized shovel, and we were easily able to side-step the whole “Santa” thing. I’m not really into it. Actually, any time Joseph was exposed to the Santa concept he seemed afraid. And I don’t blame him: noises on the roof, strange boots sitting in your house, flying forest animals, men who know about your day-to-day life. It is a bit weird. It has even caused Joseph to make bizarre abstract associations. He has this Elmo Christmas book that changes the words from “Twas the Night Before Christmas” to fit some Sesame Street story with a moral and forced rhymes. Anyway, one of the lines reads “As Elmo grew sleepy waiting next to his tree, he heard a loud noise that filled him with glee.” Of course in Joseph’s mind, “glee” must not be a good thing. He has used it on several occasions, trying to figure out what it is. One time it was something sticky on the table, and another time, he told me that he needed a diaper change because his diaper had “some glee in there.” And he wasn't kidding.

Happy Holidays everyone.

A congratulations is in order

2006-12-11T21:03:00.000-05:00

My little brother got engaged last week! And for those of you who haven’t met April, his fiancée, she is a wonderful, smart, and beautiful girl who will make a wonderful addition to our crazy family. And if you’re wondering, the wedding won’t be until the summer of 2008, so they have plenty of time to go completely insane planning the event. Wish them luck!

All I want for Christmas

2006-12-06T13:38:00.000-05:00

I would just love to watch a movie from start to finish in a clean house.

Reunited

2006-11-29T13:55:00.000-05:00

Today I said hello to a long lost friend. At last.

Officially terrible

2006-11-22T13:05:00.000-05:00

Last Friday Joseph turned two. We marked the occasion by taking him on a traumatizing trip to the doctor’s office. He cried from the moment the nurse asked him to step on the scale (and then consequently made him sit in the little baby cradle scale so we could get his weight, which only upset him more). Happy birthday son! Oh come on, it’s not like we didn’t have a party (we celebrated the previous weekend with family).

Joseph in turn celebrated this milestone by screaming at me to cut up his ravioli even more than it had already been cut, even though it was really already too small to successfully eat with a fork (especially by someone without years of fork experience). And NO I couldn’t use a fork to hold the ravioli; I had to saw at it with one hand and cut it smaller and smaller because all of the pieces were just WAY TOO BIG for him to possibly eat. In the end, he did not even take one bite. Here’s to another year, Mom.

Sugar high

2006-11-17T14:45:00.000-05:00

Here we are all the way in November, and my last post was on Halloween. I think I may still be recuperating from the fact that Joseph ate several lime-flavored Tootsie Rolls. (The kid had never really eaten candy before, and he chose those? Wouldn’t have been my first choice.) We’ve tried so hard to make sure that he eats a well-balanced, healthy diet (whatever that means), and so the choice to let him eat a little of his Halloween candy was not an easy one. But we let him, and the mixture of partially hydrogenated oils and corn syrup didn’t seem to make him explode or ooze any kind of toxic substance, but we’ll see what happens next year when he eats more than a couple of pieces.

So what has been going on since we gave our child candy? Not much. I’ve pretty much been busy holding crabby, crying children, wondering if the amount of hair that has fallen out of my hormonal head and has collected in the bottom of my bathroom garbage can is enough to make a full wig or just a small toupee. That, or why on earth do toy makers make “realistic” dolls that open their eyes when you pick them up and close them when you put them down in their beds when in reality it is the exact opposite.

That’s kind of how it is lately.

But don’t worry, you’ll hear from me soon. Today is Joseph’s second birthday. I’m sure I’ll have something to report other than the status of my post-pregnancy hair.

What could it all mean?

2006-10-31T13:22:00.000-05:00

Not that I am the first to remark on this subject (see this), but I find some of the subject lines that I receive in my spam folder poetic or at the very least odd. I don't mean to sound like I think my computer is talking to me or anything, but what could this mean?

rather straightforward eyes blazed. We would

Or how about this one

decaffeinate bloop

Feel free to interpret.

Wait a minute, don't you have two kids?

2006-10-24T19:45:00.000-04:00

I know, I know. I haven’t really said too much about Renée lately. Don’t worry, she’s still here. I didn’t send her away somewhere to grow up on her own while I go to fancy parties with all of my rich friends. (What? You’ve never watched this soap before? Nobody seems to notice when their children are completely gone for two or three years, and then all of a sudden they show up after all of that time without any parent supervision or interaction and magically they are eighteen. Man, the Horton’s can get away with anything.) No, Renée is still here. It’s just that I wonder how interesting you will all find her “baby” stories. I mean, I could tell you that she is starting to become a horrible sleeper. Or that she is trying really hard to turn over and hold her head up (although she is still ultimately unsuccessful). I suppose I could talk about how she actually laughed the other day. Or how she is learning how to grab things. I could write about all of these things, but it somehow gets eclipsed if you know what I mean. And I know, all of you second and third children out there are clicking your tongues, reprimanding me for celebrating Joseph’s simple milestones and then ignoring them with Renée. But honestly, it’s not like that. They are all written down just as diligently and with equal excitement as they were the first time around. I just need to share more here, with you (and to be fair, I didn’t have this blog when Joseph was her age). I will try harder.

But, come on, you have to admit that you want to hear about how Joseph (who is in a “I like pirates” phase) woke up the other day, reached up to give me a hug, and said, “Mommy loves this pirate.”

Excuse me, but you want me to do what?

2006-10-16T21:35:00.000-04:00

The other day, Joseph was running around the house without a diaper on. Although very fun for him, this is nerve-racking for me because the kid is nowhere near being potty trained yet (When we first brought home his “little potty” he had fun climbing in it. Now, he prefers to pretend to empty the little bowl). Because I don’t want to be cleaning up stuff that really shouldn’t be on the floor, I tried to explain (again) how the whole potty thing works.

“Joseph, if you have to pee or poop (Yes, I say pee and poop now. Whatever, let’s move on.) go in the bathroom and use your potty.” And then, becoming concerned that he wouldn’t make it all the way to the bathroom, I added, “If you have to poop, try to hold it until you get into the bathroom so you can use your potty.”

Horrified, Joseph looked at me, and then slowly looked at his hands. He went back to playing, hoping the crazy lady would go away.

Does it get any better than this? I don't think so.

2006-10-11T21:11:00.000-04:00

Me (pointing at a picture of an elephant in a book): Joseph, do you remember what these are called?

Joseph: Those are tusks.

Me (surprised): Yes, those are tusks.

Joseph: And that is a trunk, and that is a trunk (pointing to two separate elephants). That trunk is closed (pointing to a trunk that was kind of rolled up), and that trunk is open.

Me: I guess you could say that. Does Joseph have a trunk?

Joseph: Nope. (Then after thinking for a minute) Joseph's trunk is on the car, in the Civic.

Chicken soup for the SAHM soul

2006-10-10T12:46:00.000-04:00

All the talk about chicken soup compels me to tell you all how absolutely spoiled I am. Tony made chicken soup (and I'm not talking about opening up some little can-- it's the real deal with leftover chicken from a separate dinner that he also made). I had some for lunch two days in a row, and I have to say that I am feeling better. The fever, chills, and aches are gone. However the cough and sore throat are still here. I'm afraid they may be around for a while. Let's all hope now that Renée doesn't get this.

sick sick sick

2006-10-09T16:34:00.000-04:00

I haven't been sick like this since, well, I can't remember when. Fever. Cough. Chills. Hurting all over. Stuffed nose. I want it to be done.

Joseph on crying:

2006-10-03T13:19:00.000-04:00

The other day Renée started wimpering because she wanted to get out of her bouncy chair. Joseph tried to calm her by putting his face approximately three centimeters from hers and screaming, "HI RENÉE" as loudly as possible. When he could clearly see that his technique was not working, he looked at me and said, "Turn it off."

Trust me, kid. I know what you mean.

Turn, turn, turn

2006-09-24T15:01:00.000-04:00

Even though it was 80 degrees when I went outside last week, it smelled like fall. I think it was the leaves, but it just wasn’t summer anymore. I think I’ll miss it this time around. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t; but this one was nice (mild, even). I’m sad to see it go. And as the leaves start changing, I’ll no longer be able to see the contrast of the green leaves against the blue sky. You know how it is when something strikes you that never did before? For example, one spring I really noticed the buds and new leaves on the trees. I mean I REALLY noticed them. I couldn’t stop looking at them and thinking that they were just more remarkable than usual. That’s how it was all summer long with the trees and sky. I frequently thought to myself, “Wow. That is a really good color combination.” Strangely, it sometimes calmed me when I was stressed, or allowed me to notice the beauty in the moment when I felt completely bored.

Of course, this summer was also memorable in other ways—it wasn’t just the green and blue. Renée was born. Joseph turned into a true toddler. Our lives became just a little more chaotic. I know that it will never be like this again. Next summer will be different. Joseph will probably not be as excited about pushing around his lawnmower. And although he may still enjoy planting flowers, he won’t call the mums in the back yard “mum-mums,” and he might also give up the phrase “garden patch.” And even though it will be exciting to watch Renée grow and change, I couldn’t help but get a little teary when I put away her first batch of clothing that became too small. As fall officially begins, Renée will no longer be a newborn; she’ll be a regular baby. I think next time around I won’t be as amazed by the trees against the sky.

Maybe some changes won’t be so sad. Although the kids will have changed, there will be new things to take in. Renée may end up pushing around the lawnmower. And maybe I’ll be able to handle evenings without Tony a little more skillfully. Or perhaps sometimes I’ll be able to have more dinners where Renée is not screaming to be held while Joseph is yelling for attention while smearing avocado in his hair that he refuses to let us wash. But if not, it’s okay, because I know it will never be like this again.

Nuts and berries

2006-09-17T21:00:00.000-04:00

People talk about the phenomenon called “mommy brain.” You know, the thing that happens to your head when you have a child, making you unable to form coherent thoughts or speak intelligibly. Well, I have that; I definitely have that. I’ve been known to search for a correct word, only to finally come up with “vacuum cleaner,” when that’s not at all what I meant to say. What’s worse is that I continue on with the conversation, not bothering to substitute the correct word because Tony will undoubtedly understand using context clues that I really meant to say “garage door opener.” Who needs all of those nouns and verbs when grunting and pointing work so well? I’m not sure though that I can blame it on hormonal changes or lack of sleep. I think that the real problem is that after having children I have to spend so much time and energy on food. I sometimes feel like all we are doing is eating food, or preparing food, or thinking about what food to make next that it hardly leaves any time for grocery shopping or cleaning up the mess left over after eating the food. I’m not sure we’ve changed very much from a hunter-gatherer society.

I even check out food-related websites (See this one. Or this one.) in my spare time. I need to watch a movie or something. Which reminds me, I’d better add Fast Food Nation to my queue.

Our little one is getting so big!

2006-09-14T14:13:00.000-04:00

And no, I don’t mean Renée. (Although she is getting big. She's in the 75th percentile for weight and height—something I’m not used to in a baby. She also gives us a lot of adorable smiles and cute little baby sounds. She really is an amazing little thing.) No, it’s not Renée, it’s my little spider friend that has been living next to/in our fireplace for some time now. Every time I’m walking around holding one of my two babies, either early in the morning or later in the evening, I see this spider. I keep meaning to kill it, but I can never get around to it with a kid in my hands. And whenever I don’t have a kid in my hands (which is not very often—I do even now), the spider has retreated into his home, and I can’t get to him. I have now known this spider for much of its life. He was small, but not so much anymore. They grow up so fast! (I would post a picture, but like all promised pictures of our little ones, I don’t always get the free time to do it.) Sometimes this spider even builds an addition on his house, and it spreads out much farther than I would like. I take care of that when it happens, but not the spider himself. Sometimes I walk by it and think maybe I don’t care. How much longer will it live anyway? And for those of you who know me, you know that by reading that last statement, it is clear that my children have either helped me relax a little, or have completely made me nuts.

Bob the Pessimist

2006-09-09T15:31:00.000-04:00

You may remember my previous rammblings about Bob the Builder and creativity. You may have also read some of the comments about playing with this particular toy as well as other “boys’ toys”. I think Bob the Builder is supposed to be positive, or a good role model, or at least a nice guy. I really have no idea what these cartoons are supposed to be doing. Besides, we only have the toy; we’ve never seen the actual show. What I do know is that there is a reoccurring line: “Can we fix it? YES, WE CAN!” We saw that in a Bob the Builder book and have used that line from time to time around the house. However, the other day Joseph decided to give us his own “toddler” version.

Me: Can we fix it?
Joseph: Nope. (pause) We can’t.

Bummer.

Back to school

2006-09-06T07:05:00.000-04:00

Last week was Tony’s first week back to work. It was hard to coordinate, but I somehow made it through without anyone needing a trip to the emergency room. Sure, when I decided to let Joseph help me make granola (while Renée was NOT napping), he ended up spilling instead of stirring, covering the floor, his pants, his feet, and his hands in honey-coated oats. And when I tried to quickly clean up, he decided it would be fun to stomp through the sticky pile on the floor. But I somehow managed to keep things under control considering the circumstances. Now that the Labor Day holiday is over, Tony will start his second week of work. Please wish me luck.

How Joseph talks like a Frenchman

2006-08-27T14:19:00.000-04:00

Joseph is at the fun age where he can make his own sentences. Along with this comes the learning of grammar rules and fun mistakes that only a kid first learning to talk can make (or, I guess a foreigner learning another language – after all, the mistakes are sometimes different, but it really is the same thing). I was looking forward to this age, because it really is fascinating to see how it all eventually comes together. However, I guess I was surprised to hear some of the miscommunications. Sure, there is the addition of “-ed” to form the past tense of irregular verbs (“Daddy goed in the Escort.”) Or the misuse of pronouns (“Her is on the bike.”) Those are obviously going to happen when figuring out and generalizing rules. But I was surprised (and amused) to hear some others. The one that surprised me the most was the confusion of the present tense “have” vs. “having.” (“Daddy is having the spoon.”) In French there is no distinction between the two. As my former students will remember from French 1, “Je parle” translates to “I speak” or “I am speaking” or “I do speak.” How odd that Joseph seems to be hardwired to speak like a little European. Or maybe we are all hardwired to use that grammar. I wonder why we make the distinction in English anyway. I’m sure Noam Chomsky studied his children like little linguistic lab rats.

Of course, that’s not the only mistake of Joseph’s that I find amusing. Some other cute little errors of interest:

** He uses the word “from” every time he wants to say “for.” For example, as he hands me something, he will say, “This is from Mommy.” Or earlier today he said, “That car seat is too small from Joseph.”

** We often hear him say “I forgot.” He thinks it means something specific, although I’m not quite sure what it is. He might say, “Aw man! I forgot that block.” But if you were aware of the context, you would be able to see that he doesn’t really mean that he forgot it.

** The word “crooked” also has some kind of special meaning to him. I think it means “not quite right.” He says that many things are crooked. Some really are. Some aren’t. The best was the other day when Tony was playing one of his songs on the computer. Joseph REALLY didn’t like it. He kept saying, “Get it off!” After Tony finally turned it off, Joseph, with tears in his eyes said, “Man, those drums are crooked!”

I wish I could go around with a tape recorder all day long so I wouldn’t forget all of these things he says. I mean to write them down (and sometimes I do), but there are just so many of them. I swear that I’ll remember them so I can at least tell someone, but by the end of the day I usually forget. As Joseph would agree—too bad it’s so hard from me to remember. That’s crooked!

sorry

2006-08-11T13:50:00.000-04:00

I was trying to avoid word verification on my blog. But sadly I have been receiving quite a bit of spam lately. So sorry for making everyone type nonsense words in order to comment. I hope to still hear from people!

Bob the Dull Builder

2006-08-09T13:06:00.000-04:00

I’ve come to the realization that I have absolutely no idea how to play with boy’s toys. The imagination just isn’t there. I’m not quite sure what you are supposed to do with a truck after you have pushed it back and forth across the carpet a couple of times. And ask Tony, I am horrible at making any kind of sound effect.

Joseph has a little “Bob the Builder” workshop that he absolutely loves, but I can only play with it for a couple of minutes at a time. After that, I’m out of ideas. What is Bob supposed to do??? I know that he is supposed to build things, but unless you keep buying expansion packs of click bricks, he doesn’t really have much to work with. You can’t comb his hair or even change his outfits. He just stands there. And when I make him talk I have the habit of making him have a high-pitched cartoonish voice anyway. How masculine is that? I’ve checked the manuals (by which I mean all of the “Bob the Builder” and truck books I can get my hands on from our local library), and they seem to help a little. I rip off lines from those books like teenagers rip off movie lines. It gets me by.

Who knows, maybe if I end up playing with girl’s toys when Renée gets older, I’ll find out that it’s not about girl vs. boy, it’s more about the fact that I’m a boring adult. But in the meantime I’ll blame it on gender. Until then, if you have any brilliant ideas or insight, I’m waiting for your advice.

Yo no soy marinero. Soy capitan.

2006-07-29T13:06:00.000-04:00

Joseph is definitely a toddler. I had this thought several months ago, but I had no idea what was in store. At 20 months, he is starting his terrible twos. One of his most frequently used words is, of course, “no.” Sometimes it comes out strong, like he is scolding us. “No! No! No!” He’ll say. And sometimes it’s a long, dragged-out “nnnnoooooooo.” Other times it’s in the middle of a whine or a cry.

I was anticipating the word no. I was even kind of wondering when he would start saying it all the time. After all, everyone was always telling me that “no” is a toddler’s favorite word. It doesn’t really bother me all that much. What I didn’t know about was some of the other things he had up his sleeve. For example, he has a fake cry. I don’t know why he does it, and I’m not sure that he does either. Sometimes when he does it, he’ll even say, “fake cry.” It’s as if he can’t get up the energy to really cry, but he wants to let me know that he’s not happy about what is happening to him.

Every surface in our house has become a potential platform or step stool.
Every diaper change has become a war.
Every breakfast has become a losing battle.
Every little task has become a long, drawn-out process.

He also has to do everything by himself, even if it is too difficult for him. It usually ends up with him crying, but he will still not accept help from anyone. This includes buckling any buckles he comes in contact with, building impossible towers, and pulling garbage cans across the yard.

Having a new baby sister around probably doesn’t help much, but he was already doing many of these things before she was born. I guess now they just seem much more pronounced. And although sometimes it is so frustrating (I mean HOW HARD IS IT to just hold your cup of water without spilling it everywhere?), I think this age might be the best! His imagination is wonderful. His memory is unreal. And his perception of things is more innocent and pure than it will ever be. And as an added bonus, he can now tell us about it. His vocabulary seems to increase daily. (The other day, he woke from a nap, clearly in the middle of a dream. He came up to me, and “sprinkled” something into my hands saying, “Mommy, take this.” “What is it?” I asked holding it in my hand. “Money.” he answered.) I'll take all that comes with the terrible twos.

Coming up for air...

2006-07-25T14:53:00.000-04:00

Things are a little busy, and slow at the same time. I'm remembering how it was even though this time is so different. Renée is wonderful and patient and so sweet. She still sleeps a lot, Joseph still doesn't. I am waiting for the day that I am allowed to pick up something heavier than the baby (like Joseph, for example). They say that I can in four more weeks, but we'll see if I really wait that long. I feel like I'd be able to do it now, although I won't.

It's been hot, which makes it hard to get out and do things with a newborn. Is that why I don't? Is that the same reason why I stayed in the house with Joseph for so long when we lived in New Orleans? Whatever.

I miss Joseph. He's right here, but it's not the same. I can't take him anywhere by myself since I can't lift him in and out of the car. I'm sure Tony will appreciate the day when I can lift something heavier than the baby.

Quick introduction

2006-07-12T21:26:00.000-04:00

Renée Allison was born on Monday, July 10 at 10:07 a.m.

Weight: 7 lbs. 2 oz.
Length: 18 inches

All is well so far. Tonight is our first night home. I will update again soon.

No looking back now

2006-07-07T20:48:00.000-04:00

I've meant to tell everyone all of the things that have been going on in our lives these last couple of weeks: all of the crazy emotions, all of the great things Joseph has been doing, all of the preparations we have been making. But it has been just that-- crazy, busy, and emotional. So I apologize for making you all wait for more stories (Really, that's all I'm going to say because I ABSOLUTELY hate when people say they are sorry for not keeping up their blogs. Write what you want, when you want. It's yours. Besides, it's just plain boring to read long apologies about not writing. So there, even if it's been a very long time, there will be no more apologies in my parenthesis.)

So here we are. Monday is the day. Hopefully I will have time to post a quick update for all who are wondering (However, I'll be in the hospital for 3 or 4 days. So don't expect anything on Monday unless the hospital has recently installed internet access). And since everyone is wondering, I will of course also post the baby's name (I think we have one chosen, but we are not telling yet). Wish us luck, and until next week or a little later (and if it's later, I'm NOT sorry in advance)...

You can't always get what you want.

2006-07-03T05:05:00.000-04:00

Joseph has decided to sleep in his crib through the night for the last three nights in a row. I know that when this happens, I should jump for joy and take all of the sleep I can get, because this trend will not last forever. But did I mention that I'm only 1 week away, and I can't sleep? Here I am at 5:00 in the morning, and I've been awake for over an hour. The thing is, after the baby is born, I know that I'll have NO trouble falling asleep. Bring on the insanity!

Translation, please.

2006-06-28T13:19:00.000-04:00

I’ve often asked Joseph if he is a kid or a baby. He used to switch back and forth, depending on his mood, which is cute because that’s how I feel about him, too. Sometimes he really is such a little boy, and sometimes he's still a baby. But lately, when I ask him if he is a kid, he consistently tells me, “no.” I was worried that he was nervous about the new baby arriving soon and that maybe he was needing more “baby-like” attention (not that he doesn’t get it anyway). Feeling sad that he was so upset about growing up, I would occasionally tell him all of the fun things that kids can do that babies can’t. It didn’t seem to be working; he still would say that he wasn’t a kid. Then yesterday, I put it together. When I asked him if he was a baby or a kid, he answered, “kid is potato head.” Ahhhh, yes. He has a potato head family, and we call the small one the “kid.” Now I get it. Who would want to be that kind of kid even if you could do all of those special things that babies can’t? Maybe his thought process wasn’t as profound as I had imagined, but it sure was a relief. We are now working on baby vs. toddler instead.

Knitting for babies

2006-06-22T15:03:00.000-04:00

My favorite knitter is coming to visit me on Sunday (I'm talking about Tamara, of course). She is really good. How good is she, you ask. Well, go check it out for yourself. I receive a lot (the most?) of her knitted goods. I'm pretty excited for the things she will be bringing on Sunday. I really hope that my ultrasound was correct. Because if it wasn't, this boy is going to be wearing a lot of girl clothes. There is absolutely no way that I'm giving this stuff up.

Wish us luck

2006-06-17T21:52:00.000-04:00

If all goes according to plan, Joseph will no longer be an only child in a little over three weeks. I'm scheduled for a c-section on July 10 at 10:15 a.m. It is very strange to know the date and time, and I wonder every second if I am making the correct choice in having a repeat c-section. Sometimes I wish I didn't have so much "information" at my fingertips. The Internet can sure be a stressful resource sometimes. Anyway, keep us in your thoughts on the 10th!

Oh- and for those of you who keep asking, we still do not have any names picked out. Sorry. I guess you'll have to wait a little longer.

Anniversaries

2006-06-07T22:34:00.000-04:00

Tony and I celebrated our 5th anniversary last month. We actually went out to dinner and saw a movie. The dinner was really good (Montague Inn); the movie was okay (The Da Vinci Code). I was hoping to see this movie, or this one. But apparently our choices are somewhat limited here. We will now enter our next movie theater hibernation. Hopefully this one won’t last as long.

Last month also marks another anniversary. It has been one year since we moved back from New Orleans. We’ve now been here as long as we were there. As most people know, I had a hard time adjusting, but I ended up really liking it there. I’ve surely romanticized many things, but I have this nostalgia for the place where Joseph was born, the place where we could walk almost everywhere, the place where shop owners were starting to get to know us, and the place where I could get some of the best food I’ve ever had. I can remember the last couple of weeks, looking carefully at everything, trying as hard as I could to memorize the details, knowing how my visual memory always ends up failing me. On my walks with Joseph, I tried to take pictures, but there really can’t be enough pictures. Joseph and I walked A LOT. I tried to show him everything, wishing he’d be able to remember something, but knowing there was know way that he would.

Tony and I talked about how we would visit often, maybe within a few years so that Joseph could see where he was born and enjoy some of the things we also enjoyed. Who knows, perhaps it will still happen, maybe just not as soon as we imagined. The hospital where Joseph was born does not exist in the way that it did a year and a half ago, and although there was some positive talk about rebuilding, it still won’t be the same. Our doctors seem to be gone. I wonder if the shop owners that got to know us from the time I was pregnant are still around.

Immediately after the hurricane, I became somewhat depressed. I only felt worse for feeling so upset, because we only lived there for such a short time. I didn’t have the right to be as sad as people who actually lived there and lost everything. When people would find out that we had recently moved from New Orleans, they would almost always say, “You got out of there just in time, didn’t you?” Or, “I bet you’re glad you got out of there, huh?” I’d say, “sure.” But the truth was that I wanted to be there. I wanted New Orleans—the hurricanes, the humidity, the bugs, the drunks, and all. I felt like a tourist. I feel like a tourist. That’s really all I can be now.

Many people around here have now even forgotten about the hurricane (My doctor was confused about why I was having trouble getting my medical records from Joseph’s birth). And those that haven’t forgotten about it are extremely opinionated about New Orleans politics. All of a sudden everyone feels they are experts on how to run a city with problems much deeper than a hurricane. They all want to vote for a mayor in a city where they don’t (and won’t) live only after hearing a few news clips.

So now here we are, back in Michigan. This could be the place where Joseph grows up. It’s not New Orleans, but it may end up being great in other ways. I’m not sure that I’d rather be anywhere else really. Where else would we have been able to see a movie and go out to dinner for our fifth anniversary? And who knows, maybe we’ll be able to do it again for our tenth.

News from an Ikea Diehard

2006-06-04T21:30:00.000-04:00

Tony and I went to our “preview” shopping day at Ikea yesterday (a big thanks to all of you who helped by signing up for me). We made it out of there without making any MAJOR furniture purchases, but I have several ideas for the near future. Since we found out that we are having a girl, we have to think about which of our extra rooms we are going to give up, and that means we need to make some changes. You would think that after living with Joseph in a one-bedroom apartment we would have no problem sharing one of our extra bedrooms (we live in a four-bedroom house) with our new daughter. But somehow we’ve already grown into this house.

Shopping at the new Michigan Ikea yesterday had its ups and downs. Here’s my list.

Bad Things:
•It was not just “Tokig” and “Diehard” day. It was also friends and family day. Which meant that every person who works there was able to invite people. How many people, you ask? Who knows. Maybe five million. It was really crowded.

•We had to wait in a very long line to eat as well as to check out.

•We spent a lot of money and can do so again relatively easily.

•Now that there is an Ikea somewhat close by, it’s not so much a novelty. People will have the same stuff!!!!

•The store needs a better parking lot (or was it just the five million family and friends).

Good Things:
•Even though we had to wait, the cafeteria was open (we thought it wouldn’t be). Daim tortes, oh boy!!!

•The food in the cafeteria was on sale for this special event.

•We discovered the “as is” section for the first time really and found out sometimes you can get a really good bargain.

•We got an easel for Joseph.

•Daims.

•Oh my!!! There is an Ikea in Michigan!

So it's not decided then

2006-06-02T09:21:00.000-04:00

WARNING!!! Spoiler alert!!! If you don't want to know if we are having a girl or boy, stop reading now.

Previously, I posted that we wouldn't know the sex of the baby because my doctor only did early ultrasounds unless there was some sort of problem. I had the option of paying for one, but we decided not to do that. I had been told by many people who go to the same practice that almost every person ends up having another ultrasound at some point, but until last week it seemed as though I was not going to get that chance. As it turns out, at my last appointment, my doctor said that I was measuring small, so even though it's pretty late in my pregnancy, I was scheduled for an ultrasound. The baby seems to be developing fine and is healthy, so that was a great relief. And as an added bonus, we found out that we will be having a little girl. I had a feeling that this baby was a girl, but now I know for sure (well, unless the ultrasound tech was wrong...)

Brunch

2006-05-22T21:51:00.000-04:00

Isn't this crust beautiful?

Tony's mom came over for brunch on Mother's Day, and Tony made a wonderful quiche (among other things). He really is a great cook. Me, on the other hand, I'm more of a prep cook. I washed the fruit. So at least I've got that going for me.

Countdown to opening day...

2006-05-16T14:41:00.000-04:00

In a last-ditch effort to secure my spot as an Ikea diehard fan, Tony made this picture of one of our rooms full of Ikea products. Actually, this is in our old house, but we still own most of the items. I posted it on my profile, hoping more people will vote for me, but I'm not sure it's working. Oh well.

Anyway, only 21 days, 18 hours, and 1 minute until the opening day (and only 7 days left to prove that I'm a diehard fan, and I deserve to shop in the store before then).

Wondering

2006-05-15T20:51:00.000-04:00

Joseph was playing with one of his push toys today, but he wasn't pushing it. Instead, he had it upside-down and was playing with the wheels and battery compartment. Tony and I were reminded of being kids and turning bikes (tricycles or big wheels) upside-down and saying that we were making ice cream. Where on earth does that come from? Is this something that every kid does? Why on earth would it look like an ice cream machine?

Anyone? Anyone?

2006-05-11T12:52:00.000-04:00

So, the countdown really begins. We've got around eight weeks until I get one of these again. Have any idea what it is?

Are you as excited as I am?

2006-05-04T09:03:00.000-04:00

I have been SUPER excited ever since I heard that Ikea was opening in Michigan. First there were the rumors, and then there were the business deals that never happened. But now it's true. I'm sure I'm not the only one who is happy about this, but I'm taking it a step beyond the ordinary. I've given them my e-mail address so that I can try to be a SUPER FAN. Yes, you heard me correctly, I'm trying to be a super fan (or as they say, a "tokig"). Anyway, I'm not quite there yet, but I'm working on it. If you want to try to be a super fan yourself, you can, too. But if you do, please please please e-mail me first so that I can invite you (I'll get some points of course). Just 33 days, 23 hours, and 46 minutes until the grand opening!!!!

While I've been gone

2006-05-03T22:15:00.000-04:00

It's been so nice out lately that we haven't been in the house too much. Plus Joseph is back to his bad (not that they were ever good) sleeping habits. I need sleep and a good back crack. And both of those are pretty imposible right about now. About 9 more weeks to go. Is that a long time?

Joseph's first photographs

2006-04-24T13:15:00.000-04:00

I haven't posted any pictures lately, so I thought I'd share some that Joseph took. Here they are. Isn't he talented?

Baby talk

2006-04-14T11:09:00.000-04:00

I’m not sure it was much of a conscious decision, but Tony and I haven't really told Joseph anything about his new brother or sister. It’s like Catherine Newman said about her son Ben in her book Waiting for Birdy, “We’re trying not to talk about [the baby] too much with Ben: for someone who goes nuts in the one second it takes you to pull the top off his yogurt, nine months might as well be a thousand light years.” I kind of feel the same way, but there are plenty of people who have talked to Joseph about it. I don’t mind so much really. Usually they just say something like, "Are you going to be a big helper for Mommy?" Or, if there happens to be a baby nearby, "Are you going to have one of those pretty soon at home?" He doesn’t seem to get it, but I know better than to assume he’s not taking it in.

At some point, however, someone must have mentioned something a little more specific, because he seems to know something is going on with his mommy’s HUGE belly. At first I thought he was just confusing the words. He would say, “belly.” But then a word that sounded maybe something like “baby” would come out. Now he does it all the time. If I say, “Does Mommy have a BIG belly?” He’ll often say, “baby.” And then the other day it started to get a little freaky. He grabbed my shirt, looked under, looked at my belly button, and then after saying “baby,” he looked at me and said, “Get it.” I told him I couldn’t because the baby wasn’t ready yet. He seemed satisfied.

At first I thought that this must be very strange to a little kid just learning about the world. But then again, I bet most things are pretty strange to him. Everything must be so new and weird – or maybe just new, not weird. I mean, we keep bowls in the cupboard, toys in boxes (well, for the most part), food in the refrigerator. Why wouldn’t there be a baby in Mommy’s belly? Now we’ll have to see what his reaction will be when we actually “get it,” and can’t put it back.

Do you know what I need?????

2006-04-05T13:40:00.000-04:00

I need an "extend-an-arm" or a grabber, or something like that. You know, the things they use when they pick up trash on the side of the road? One of those. That's what I want. Because, let me tell you. I am DONE with the whole bending over thing. I am seriously finished. Besides, our house looks like the dirty side of the road right about now, and I'm going to pass out if I have to pick up one more Cheerio. (Oh yeah, this thing needs to be able to pick up something that small.) So, anyway, that's what I need. That and another ENTIRE pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

One of life's sweet disappointments

2006-04-02T12:39:00.000-04:00

As the weather has been getting a little nicer, we’ve been spending more time outside. Joseph LOVES being outside. He can barely think of anything else. He likes pushing his “broom” (really it’s a rake, but he calls it a broom) around the yard or down the sidewalk. Sometimes he’ll even sit for a second on the porch, but mostly he likes to climb up and down the steps. He also loves climbing on the deck or into the flowerbed. I’m pretty excited to get out of the house every once in awhile myself, but sometimes after hours of supervising his unsteady running all over the sidewalk I need to come back in the house. This is one of Joseph’s least favorite things to do lately (coming back in the house). It doesn’t matter how long we have been outside, or even if it is raining. He shakes his head back and forth and throws one if his little tantrums that are becoming more and more frequent lately. He cries “Side! Side!” (translation: “Outside! Outside!)

The other day, I decided to try and distract him from some of the same things he does over and over again. I brought out his little watering can filled with water. Joseph knows that you have to give plants “water” so that they will “grow.” He says these things, and has seen me give our houseplant (yes, we only have one right now) water. He even used to take a cup and “water” our Christmas tree last Christmas. I just wasn’t really sure how well he understood what he was doing and seeing. Well, I think he did understand (for the most part). He took his watering can and poured some water on this little flower that is growing in our flowerbed. He also poured a little on some things that might actually be weeds, but I’m not sure since this is our first spring in this house. He emptied his watering can and told me to “take it.” Then he just looked at the plants. He got really close to the flower and waited. Then he started saying, “Grow. Grow.” Tony and I told him that he needed to wait, that the plant also needed time and sunlight. We would have to be patient. He tried to repeat the word patient, but the concept was clearly lost on him (besides, this was not the first time we tried to explain the concept of patience to him). We could tell that he was expecting the flower to grow and bloom before his eyes, and he was clearly disappointed that that’s not how it worked. I of course couldn’t explain to him that I completely understood how he felt. I know what it’s like to be so excited that you wish something would grow faster so you can see how wonderful it will become, and that sometimes it’s a little boring being patient. I know that he wouldn’t understand if I tried to tell him to just enjoy the flower the way it is now. I’m not sure I always understand myself.

Once bitten, twice shy.

2006-03-21T13:31:00.000-05:00

I know better than to talk to Joseph about any kind of injury. He will obsessively talk about it forever. For example, he is still talking about his burn, even though he doesn’t even remember which hand it was. It has actually made him curious (I’ll use curious, because although he is often downright frightened, it isn’t always the case) about anything that might be “hot.” Everything metal is “hot.” His bath water is always “hot.” Every food item that has ever been cooked, no matter how long ago is “hot.” The oven, of course, is hot as well as the dishwasher, the heat vent, and the vacuum cleaner. The word “hot” is often followed by the word “burn” and then sometimes “doctor” or “hurt” or something like that. And last week, Tony cut his finger while washing a knife (yes, Jim, you know which kind of knife) and had to wear a band-aid. Every time Joseph saw it, he got a worried look and would say, “hurt.” He also talks about his immunizations that happened a month ago as well as the time he bumped his head on the wall. He even made up an injury once. He saw a girl walking down the street, and out of the blue, he said, “hurt.” When I asked him who got hurt, he said, “girl.” I asked him if she fell down, and he nodded his head. (By the way, she didn’t fall down. I could see her.) I asked her where she got hurt, and he said, “belly.” Strange.

So, I know not to fuel this fire. His mind is occupied enough with all of his worries. But I couldn’t help it the other day. One thing that is really confusing to me as a parent is how to deal with all of the cutesy, cartoon images of animals and other things that sometimes in real life aren’t so adorable. Joseph will point out a hippo or a snake or an alligator, and say, “cute.” And sure, the pictures are cute, I agree. But would he even recognize some of them in real life? And if he did, would he want to grab it? Usually I just let it go, of course, but do you know how many pictures there are of bees in young children’s books? Why are there so many bees? And why do they always look so friendly? Joseph, of course loves them. Or should I say, loved them. We were reading yet another book with adorable bees, and Joseph told me they were “cute.” I couldn’t help myself, and I said, “Yes, they are cute. But you don’t want to make them mad, or you could get hurt.” That was it. That’s all I had to say. Now when we see a picture of a bee, he doesn’t automatically say, “cute.” Instead he says, “hurt.” The other day we weren’t even looking at a picture of a bee, he just got a worried look on his face, almost started to cry, and said, “hurt.” “What hurts?” I asked. “Bee.” He answered. I’ve since tried to take it back by explaining and telling him that they are in fact cute. But he’s no dummy. I can take the stinger out, but I can’t change the fact that he got stung. Just like I can’t undo his burn, or his bumped head, or Tony’s cut finger. As he grows up and learns more about life, the best I can do is comfort him when he experiences some of its disappointments, and hopefully I’ll be able to resist my constant urge to protect and explain, and experience some of the “cute” things as well.

Pass me another cookie, would ya?

2006-03-14T14:36:00.000-05:00

So imagine this...

I'm pregnant (and looking pregnant, too). I'm holding my crying baby while wearing a pair of pajama pants because Joseph's diarrhea diaper leaked on my only clean pair of maternity pants (I am NOT the "happy to be wearing pajamas during the day" kind of person). I'm yelling out the door to the garbage man asking him why he's not taking my bags of leaves. And when does the yard waste collection start? Not until April you say? My hair is tangled looking like I haven't showered in weeks, and my kitchen table is still piled with the remnants of a lunch gone bad. God, who am I?

So it's decided then!

2006-03-12T12:11:00.000-05:00

We are not paying for an extra ultrasound. For those of you wanting to know if we are having a boy or a girl, I guess you'll just have to wait until July like us. So we need to start thinking about names for boys and girls.

[For those who do not know the story -- my doctor only does early ultrasounds (too early to tell if the baby is a boy or a girl). If we want one now (no longer too early), it would cost $125. Now, I know it doesn't sound like a huge amount of money, but right about now we can think of other things to spend it on.]

Spring break 2006 -- family gone wild

2006-03-08T12:37:00.000-05:00

Well, we successfully completed our very first family vacation! Even though it was only for the weekend, I think a congratulations is in order. The three of us packed up the car and drove to Chicago. Yes, Joseph, the “I don’t really like the car very much” kid made it all the way and back. And somehow, my friend Tamara made it through the ordeal as well. She was kind enough to let us stay with her, even though she only has one bedroom, and even though Joseph gets up MUCH earlier than she would like to get up (even on a weekday), and even though I don’t get along very well with cats (and she has two).

Joseph loved Chicago. He got to see many dogs, bikes, and pigeons (this is pretty exciting stuff). He still talks about Tamara’s cats, telling me that there were “two” and they like to “hide” under the “bed” (The words in quotes are his. I fill in the rest). We ate a delicious brunch that I can’t stop thinking about, and went in some fun shops. Joseph especially enjoyed running around the yarn shop, where Tamara wanted to stop so she could show off the sweater she made Joseph for Christmas. And of course no trip to Chicago would be complete without going to Ikea. We didn’t have room in the car for anything big (adding a kid to the car as well as all of his required things takes up a lot of space), but we did buy a few small things, the most important being a bag of Daim candy that I just can’t stop eating. As a matter of fact, I am eating more than an unhealthy serving size of them as I write this. (You can see a recipe with these candies as well as read a little about them over here at Chocolate & Zucchini).

When it was time to leave, Joseph was pretty sad. Tamara came up to the car window to make sure we knew how to get to the freeway, and when she walked away, Joseph started crying and calling “Tam!!!!” But we were able to calm him when, after his nap, we stopped at a mall and let him drink some chocolate shake and run up and down a wheelchair ramp.

So there you have it! It can be done with a little determination and a kind friend (thanks Tam). However, we’ll see what happens after we have the next kid.

Happy Mardi Gras

2006-02-28T08:25:00.000-05:00

These pictures were taken last year, of course.

Breathe....

2006-02-14T20:24:00.000-05:00

Joseph took a couple of years off my life this past Sunday when he burned his fingers and knuckles, forcing us to take our first (and who knows, maybe he’ll be a careful kid, and maybe it will be our last) trip to our local urgent care facility.

He was in such a bad mood after his afternoon nap (this is not uncommon). He should have slept longer, but didn’t, and so he was needy and crabby and whiny and just plain difficult. Tony and I really wanted to make dinner, and my back was tired from holding him for what seemed like years, but if I put him down, all I heard was, “uuupppppp……uuuuuppppp” over and over again. Sometimes this can go on for hours. I’m not kidding.

Finally we had a break when Tony opened one of the cupboards. Joseph let out a squeal as he ran towards all of the cookie sheets and cake pans. But his attention quickly shifted when he saw another drawer open. It was the storage drawer under the oven. What a treasure chest!!! He had absolutely no idea that it was there. It was like a secret room that he had just discovered. And when Tony quickly closed the drawer, he didn’t even seem upset. I guess I should have known that he would be up to something if he wasn’t still asking to be picked up.

That’s when it all happened. Joseph ran over to the storage drawer (did I mention that the oven was ON?) and tried to open it. Apparently (and this is a warning to all of you who, like me, had no idea this could happen) it gets REALLY hot in the crack between the storage drawer and the oven. Joseph started crying. AND I MEAN CRYING.

I’ll skip over the rest of the details about cold water, a lot of tears, trying to remember if we were doing the correct thing for burns, getting scolded over the phone by Joseph’s pediatrician for not having a safe house, freaking out over the painful looking blisters that were quickly forming, putting a coat on, trying to distract him while getting into the car seat, and ending up with gauze, burn cream, and Tylenol 3. My poor baby ended up with second degree burns on his fingertips and knuckles. I know that in the long run, this will seem like no big deal. But for now, it’s a big deal to me. If you ask Joseph about why he is wearing a glove (that’s what we call the gauze he has to wear over the burns), he will say things like “oven. hot. hurt. burn. cry. okay.” If you ask me, I’ll say “baby. cry. innocent. guilt. protect. let down.”

Are we there yet?

2006-02-09T11:01:00.000-05:00

This winter feels so long. It’s probably because I didn’t have a winter last year. I find myself looking out the window, holding Joseph, looking at the snow and ice, hoping that it will warm up soon. But then I have to stop myself. I have to stop wishing time away. I know that this is a common problem for everyone. It surely is not profound by any means, but I think it really defines some of the difficulties of being a stay-at-home mom (or dad). I have completely contradictory feelings at the same time. I want time to stop and time to go. I’m utterly bored and absolutely amazed. I’m more depressed than ever as well as the happiest I’ve ever been. The days stretch out to no end while they are flying by. Book after block after ball, I’m just tired. I know that I would have it no other way.

Tony got me this wonderful book for Christmas (Waiting for Birdy by Catherine Newman). Catherine’s son Ben is three years old when his baby sister is born, and she chronicles her family’s life during this time. I think this excerpt explains a little of what I’m feeling:

“Is it always spring now?” Ben wondered.
I asked him if he could remember what came after spring.
“Summer!” he said. “Is summer about as big as a string cheese?”
“I don’t know,” I said. Is a string cheese big or small?”
“Kind of big and kind of small.” He moved his hands apart and then together to show me.
“Then yes,” I said. “That’s summer. Kind of big and kind of small.”

But my God – doesn’t that describe everything? Kind of big and kind of small. Time with a new baby. Childhood. And life itself.

Baby cells

2006-02-08T14:06:00.000-05:00

I heard a great story today on Morning Edition. If you have a minute and want to listen to it (or read a brief summary), click here. Let me know what you think.

Something I'm not looking forward to...

2006-02-03T21:07:00.000-05:00

Spit up. I'm not looking forward to spit up.

Olives? Pickles?

2006-01-31T08:43:00.000-05:00

I just went on a ridiculous website to find out if (according to the old wives' tales) I am having a boy or a girl. Some of the questions I can't answer yet because I'm not far enough along. However, according to the all-knowing internet, there is a 67% chance that it is a girl. Hmmmmmmm...... I think I just need to get an ultrasound.