Just An Ordinary, Momentous Day

As I sit down tonight after a fourteen-plus hour day of full-time mom duty, it strikes me that often the moments of most poignancy in this role are surrounded by moments of utter chaos. Allow me to elaborate.

Today was a big day for Tommy, and for Lucy, too. Just since my last post, Lucy said "Grandpa!" and "baseball!" (both of which I had to discern a bit, but were indeed verified by a secondary adult party.) Tommy entered what I felt to be a new stage when he went over to play at his friends' home this afternoon without me.

I'm not sure why it felt so monumental to send Tommy trotting off to another person's home. I leave him at the gym daycare practically every day, although I guess that's not quite as personal of a setting (and I also am right upstairs). It struck me as a very grown-up toddler thing to do; to eat lunch and play for the afternoon.

When I picked Tommy up from his adventure, he was bursting with stories of all the things he'd done and all the fun he'd had. He wanted to stay, he told me. When I asked him if he'd like to have his friends over to play at our house sometime, he replied, "That'd be cool, Mom."

As Tommy napped off the fun, Lucy and I spent a bit more alone time together. She taught me what the cow says and what the sheep says. She giggled as she fed her baby doll the bottle and gave her a kiss. She backed her little bottom onto my lap and read her favorite chick book again and again. She snuggle with bunny baby, and danced around her sunny yellow room to the I'm a Little Teapot song.

Perhaps I pushed the kids both too much when we left the house tonight to go to my nephew's baseball game. They were tired and ready to wind down, but I thought a 7 o'clock game would be manageable. Indeed not. Tommy chased his cousin Claudia and her girlfriend all over the place, screaming at them, hitting them, throwing sand all over the place, scrambling over other parents who sent me my favorite look...that Oh my God, you're drowning in kids and you're doing this again??

My heart ached for Tommy despite his unruliness, actually: I knew he really just wanted to play with the girls, but sometimes when older kids get together, they push a little cousin aside and tell him he can't play, too. I guess as a youngest child, I understand that innate desire to want to be included. Nonetheless, Tommy's going to have to learn that violence isn't the answer.

Anyway, it was a traumatic end to a big day. There were tears because the baseball game wasn't over yet. There were tears because naughtiness means straight to bed. There were tears because we'll have to talk this all through with Dad, and I know Tommy doesn't want to disappoint anyone.

And then I realized, in the thick of all this discipline, that this is the first day I remember Tommy not having a single accident. He actually took off the clothes tonight that he put on at the beginning of the day. Maybe it's happened before when John was in charge, or when we were visiting at a grandparents' house, but I don't think so. It seems like we've had at least a dribble of pee up to this point.

And so, we're here, dribble-less for a day. I am so proud of Tom for bravely making his own way in the world when sometimes other kids are just scared and hang back. I am so proud of him for telling me when he has to pee! Sometimes my heart is just bursting.

And sometimes my heart is just burning, in the same moment. Could this kid go to bed? My weary bones can't take another moment today.

The Goose is Loose!

Maybe our middle child hasn't said as much as Tommy did (at her age) because we aren't paying enough attention. Today, Lucy busted out with two new words in appropriate context. First, she looked over at the counter while eating her breakfast, and stated her clear preference:

"Cookie."

Then, at the gym, she pointed to a baby and called her one.

How Ya Feelin?

Of late, Tom has been excited to create his own words. If there is an adjective to describe hunger, heck, there must be one to describe a yearning for television.

"But Mommmmmmm, I'm feeling TV-y!!"

And later, more better:

"It's not nap time, Mom. I'm still booky."

Moo

I love dairy...in a dangerous way. I am the kind of girl who accepts that, if we have a container of ice cream in our freezer, I will eat it bit by bit every three hours until it is gone. Usually it only takes a day.

One of my great finds in life has been this low-calorie yogurt. Yogurt actually does curb my desire for ice cream, especially because I mix the Dannon Light & Fit with frozen raspberries. A serious snack of this (may 1.5 cups?) has about 75 calories.

Dates!

I have taken it upon myself to carve out some date time for John and I over the next month. It seems like forever since we've seen a movie in the theater (I can't even remember one).

Last weekend, we visited John's family in the Wisconsin heartland and we got to kick off our date string with a fabulous dinner at a local co-op. We expected the restaurant to be casual, but it was quite mod and chic. I want to try to re-create the pasta I had---some fancy linguine-type pasta with a Havarti cream sauce, pistachios, basil, and chicken. Yum, yum, yum.

It would also be nice to get out of our comfort zone and do something exciting on one of our upcoming dates. My friend is a local improv actress; I'll have to see if she has any shows coming up.

Things I'm Thankful For: Modern Appliances

I am starting to get humongous (that wonderful stage when my belly begins to TAKE OVER my body). It's awesome. My favorite thing is walking around in public and having every living human being ask me if I'm due very shortly.

No, actually. If you can believe it, I'm going to get bigger and bigger and bigger for nine weeks...and it would be longer, except for Dr. He-Man!

Anyway, back to the positive nature of this post. Today I am really thankful for dishwashers, because my back is starting to hurt something fierce and I remember how painful it was to wash dishes by hand at this stage in the game.

In No Time at All

What a beautiful day yesterday! John and I decided to take the kids to our local nature center after dinner. I kid you not---just as I was thinking how Tommy had begun to mature and understand limits, he whisked out of our sight for a mere second.

The next thing we knew, Tommy was crying out in devastation. Apparently, when you jump into the nature center pond for a swim, you end up getting All Wet.

John thought Tommy slipped in there with his new Crocs, but I knew better. "What happened, Tommy?"

"I went swimming."

"Tommy, we can't go swimming here!"

"But I wanted to go swimming, Mom! And in no time, I was in there. All wet."

Well, if the potty training has taught us anything, it's to bring a change of clothes.

Unwelcome Guests

Disgusting. After all the potty training, you'd think I could use a break from disgusting things in my house. But we've moved directly from one issue to the next, although this one is not kid-related.

Ants.

They are everywhere!

One of the benefits of buying a brand-new home is that this place is relatively bug-free, yet somehow this spring, we are suddenly under invasion. One thing I've learned about ants is that they'll carry little crumbs into a corner so they can all feast together in a big pile. Disgusting.

How'd ya like a Lysol shower, little bugs?

I told John that, as the man of the house, it was his job to solve this problem.

Busted

(After smelling Daddy's breath last night...)
Tommy: Dad, have you been drinking wine again?

Junopoly

John and I finally saw the much-discussed Juno last night. Watching movies about my fellow preggos makes me more accepting of my state. Overall, I found Juno a light, refreshing take on the subject of adoption. It's unusual (and wonderful) to see a movie showcase how much adoption can do for the many people involved---the baby, the biological parents, and the adoptive parents. I definitely found a plot twist with the adoptive father to be weird; John and I were agreed that this twist could have been left out.
I went to bed after the movie thinking long and hard about what it would be like to go through pregnancy as a high school student. While the movie hints that Juno's friends are ignorant of her emotions (the scene in which her best friend finds it "boring" that Juno is watching the adoptive mother play with a little girl at the mall), the film does seem to undervalue how difficult a challenge Juno embraces. Not only would the pregnancy itself be unimaginably trying (physically, emotionally, and socially), any mother would struggle with the choice of whether she really could give her baby to another family.
With all this pensiveness and empathy in my system last night, my baby twisted and kicked for the better part of my sleep hours. I found a little body part (a hand? a foot?), and held on, thankful for my gift of motherhood and for the unconditional support John gives me. I couldn't do this alone.

Call Me Garden Sally

Tommy and I are excited for our summer project of growing tomatoes.Tommy isn't willing to eat the tomatoes, but he can't wait to use the watering pitcher to care for them. We're hoping the tomatoes grow as big and as delicious as Great Grandpa's.My mother claims her Dad would occasionally go on a summer diet, eating only tomatoes for several weeks. Yum. Homegrown tomatoes with a touch of salt and balsamic? I could live off that for a good, long while.

In My Life

Keri Russell and her cohorts don't get everything right in the 2007 film The Waitress. On the whole, though, I did find it rather amusing.
One thing I'd like to cultivate, though, is her character's ability to create pies in her mind. I'm adding the creation of at least one great pie to my list of goals in life.

On the Subject of Living Large

Phew. According to the technical quiz in today's local paper, we do not live in a McMansion. I guess our townhouse could be categorized better as the mini version. My favorite (or, more precisely, my least favorite) characteristic is the fake facade---brick or shakes on just the most-viewed portion of the home. Classic.

Actually, though, I didn't really define McMansion by these standards until I read the article. I used to think a McMansion was a newly-built home that dwarfed its neighbors.

There are definitely some characteristics of the McMansion that appeal to me: I'd love to have 4 upper level bedrooms in our next house. On the other hand, the sheer size of these homes makes them daunting to fill and daunting to clean. Do we really want to live somewhere that doesn't feel like a full home?

Now is the point where I begin kicking myself over not more seriously considering that older home John and I looked at about a month ago.

Word Association: Traveling Poop

I'm just going to let your mind wander with that one.

It Goes So Fast: This Weekend

As usual, it's Monday morning and it seems like Friday to Sunday is a blur that passed without enough time in between. Lucy was sick this weekend with quite a fever (103.5), so we spent most of the weekend hanging out at home and canceling plans. John went to the Wild game Friday night, and I caught up on my brother's latest novel. While I was reading, the local cops (4 squad cars full of them) were outside my bedroom window questioning two guys. I'm waiting to get the scoop from an inside source.
On Saturday, Tommy and I went to the gym. He played dinosaurs and I ran. Then we hit the grocery store, and he behaved like an angel as he gulped down a Slurpee and about 10 food samples. For dinner on Saturday night, I pulled out the George Foreman grill to make grilled chicken sandwiches on thick French rolls. I sliced up avocado, slathered on mayo, and also added my new favorite type of tomato---Campari. Yum.
On Sunday, John & I alternated church attendance to take a break from holy discipline. Then we walked around the mall, met the cousins for ice cream, and convinced my sister to keep an eye on Tommy while we took Lucy out for Mexican food. Lucy loved a bit a personal time out with Mom and Dad. She garnered attention from several nearby tables, and danced back and forth in her highchair to the music of a charming trio.
Then it was an all-new Desperate Housewives (finally!), and off to bed.

Secrets to Surviving Pregnancy: Good Seamlessness

There is a weird phenomenon in the world of maternity clothes: apparently, if you are carrying a baby, you are supposed to show as much cleavage as possible. This may work great for 1st time moms who are trying to show off their hot stuff, but when I'm constantly bending over to play with Lucy or help Tommy zip his jacket, I don't need to give playgroup a peep show. I've taken to wearing seamless camisoles under almost every shirt. This one from A Pea in the Pod is extra-long to offer serious coverage of a growing belly. It's little spendy, but for the first 2 trimesters, I used cheaper models from some teenie-bop store called Charlotte Russe. Wherever you get yours , elasticity is a key factor. Before I discovered this, I bought cotton tanks that shrunk with constant washing and didn't expand well...as I do.

Secrets to Surviving Pregnancy: Vicks Vapo Rub

One of many annoying pregnancy symptoms is having your sinuses clogged continuously...for 9 months. What the heck do sinuses have to do with gestating? Anyway, if it weren't for Vicks, I would've spent many hours laying awake in these past months.

Excerpt from the Car Ride

Tommy: Grader, grader, where are you??
Tommy [as the Grader]: I'm down here! On the floor!
Tommy: I can't reach you!
Tommy [as the Grader]: Really?!
Tommy: Yeah!

I'm Getting Smarter All The Time

I now know that when I take a bath, the rest of the family doesn't interpret this is as a private activity.

Best idea: Lock the door, slip on the iPod, and ignore the chaos in motion.

Evil, Evil, Evil

Sometimes my sister tells me stories of things her kids have done, and then, as if through ESP, my children absorb and repeat these ordeals. One example of this was last spring: Tommy was just under 2 years old when he made like his cousins and busted out of Sarah's house with a large bottle of hand soap. I found him in the street a few minutes later, playing with the bottle of soap as a car rolled up the street.

A similar cousin-style feisty action began occurring this week. Now that Tommy realizes he can control his urine stream, he stashes away just a tad of pee for each time he is forced to take a nap, say goodnight, or go in timeout. "But I peeeeeeeed!" He cries, pointing to the drop of urine on his pants. For about the first 6 times this happened, John and I played along, exasperatedly changing his outfit and letting him postpone bed and/or punishment.

No longer, kid. We're onto you.

Today, I informed Tommy that poop or pee, he'd be finishing his timeouts no matter what incident occurred in his pants. The look on his face was just priceless.

You can try, Tomster, but you'll never win.

A Sweetheart

Adjustable Waist for the Whole Fam

I just bought these new maternity pants from the Gap this morning. In prior pregnancies, I felt more comfortable with a full-stomach panel, but these days, it seems like my stomach outgrows the panel but I need pants that are tighter everywhere else. Additionally, as it gets hotter (if it gets hotter), the under-the-stomach feel might be more comfy. Great news! Adjustable waist isn't just for toddlers and grandparents anymore. I cinched in these pants for now, and I'm sure to be letting loose as the weeks pass by.

Three Frames

The kids and I packed it up, and headed to Bed, Bath, & Beyond this morning. I rarely visit this store, possibly because it is an accident waiting to happen. As we breezed through, though, I spotted three 8 x 10 frames in a dark finish for our bedroom. They are pre-matted, so now I just need to find three great images to frame. I've been checking out images from shutterstock, but I'm not surely what motif I even want. It would be nice to have some scenic shots from places we've visited, but we haven't really taken great quality pictures ourselves. Should I go with three shots from the same location? Or mix it up?

Fee Fie Fiddlie-I-Oh

So Sassy

It runs in the family. Check out my cousins' new online shop, Zeichen Press. If you've got a messy break-up in your near future, you just have to stash this card away.

My Ear of Corn is Growing

Since I've spent about 25 months pregnant in the last 3 years (hey, who's counting?), you'd think I'd have the gestational growth chart pretty much down pat by now. I still subscribe, though, to an online newsletter which gives me weekly updates as to the new developments of my baby in utero. According to BabyCenter, #3 this week is approximately the size of an ear of corn. Last night, as I lay awake, the corn was jabbing at my stomach in several areas at once. Really. Hard. I don't think the other kids were this powerful at such a young age, and this has to be a bad sign.

A Slow Spring Start

This weekend started off with a bang when Tommy woke up Friday with his classic Croup cough. John and I both had a congested chest cold earlier in the week, so I'd assumed one or both of our kids would catch it. Tommy has been to the E.R. about a half-dozen times for Croup. The cough is always worse at night; they treat his cough and restricted air flow with a nebulizer and oral steroids. Thankfully, for the 1st time, we were able to head off a hospital visit and have our regular clinic prescribe the steroids. Shortly after Lucy was born, Tommy had a very serious Croup case and was actually the in the hospital for a few days. He is still coughing this morning; I'm hoping it passes soon and that Lucy doesn't develop a case of her own.

Due to the illness, our hot date on Friday was canceled. Instead, we rented La Vie en Rose, a fabulous and sobering French picture detailing the life of a rising and falling starlet, Edith Piaf. While John and I generally feel that films these days could stand to have a few minutes edited out, this picture is really worth its entirety.

The weekend overall was casual, with Tommy trying out his new imitation Crocs and John hanging my massive wall mirror in the bedroom. Yesterday, the rain kept us indoors for the most part. This week, I'm on the hunt for picture frames, a rocking chair, and lamps. The dream bed will have to wait.

I hear Lucy calling, "Mama! Mama!" so my weekend is officially over.

Pen to Paper Source

While uptown last night, I visited a spot glaringly absent from the suburbs: Paper Source. This supply store is surprisingly affordable, and caters to both the seriously creative and the casual letter-writers, like me.

The Dating Game

Last night's book club (we've entertained a nomination to rename ourselves as My Book Club Should Really Be Called Wine Club) featured little discussion of our hilarious read, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris. That's a positive, though, because in our lack of book discussion, we had plenty of time to discuss the dating disasters of several single ladies. Truly, I don't think I have laughed so hard since we watched Death at a Funeral. I wish I could indulge you with some of these dates from hell, but I think I'll keep them private for the sake of the guilty. Perhaps someday they, too, will find their matches.

As I drove home out of the city last night, I was overcome by a feeling of true female camaraderie. It occurred to me that the women around me were each in their own unique stages of life and love---some single, some dating, some married and pregnant. And yet our laughter and empathy for one another through the trials and successes of these various stages was so genuine. As we stuffed our faces with crudites and hummus, I wondered, can men possibly bond on this level at poker night?

My Secret Sin of Pride

Generally, as a pregnant lady, I really suck. I am a whiner, I hate getting bigger, and I regret to say that I'm not a good sport at all. This time around, though, I have a secret weapon.*

After Lucy was born, I worked really hard to get back in shape. I didn't get entirely where I wanted to be, but my endurance was up enough that I fairly easily continued working out into this pregnancy. This is the 1st time I've really pushed myself in running (or moving, for that matter) while pregnant, and it feels great! I am so much more confident about my body, and I feel so powerful when I realize that people are looking at me at the gym thinking, Wow, that pregnant lady is sure making an effort!

I'm 24 weeks pregnant right now, and I'm not sure how long the running will continue. I've had to slow down a bit, but I still go about 2.5 miles every other day. That's something, at least. I figure when my belly starts to really get astronomical, I'll switch machines or maybe continue the treadmill slowly at a higher incline.

*For those who are unaware, I do have another, more important, secret weapon. He is my doctor, whom I've nicknamed He-Man. Dr. He-Man takes pity on me because my infants come out at about the size of an average 4 month old, and he induces me smartly at 37 weeks.

Bedroom Underway

I love World Market for its affordability and great cheeses. Yesterday, my Mom and I stopped by to check things out, and I bought this large mirror on a bit of a whim. The mirror had a few scrapes, so I haggled with the manager for a discount. He tried to give me just 20% off, but I ended up paying $110, which was 40% off the original price. Little did he know that any Martha Stewart fan would just fill those tiny scratches with shoe polish and **voilla**! The mirror isn't quite the full-length that I envisioned for our bedroom, but I took it because the wood frame was significant and beautiful, the price was right, and on second thought, a mirror out of reach of Tommy's Bob the Builder tool set is probably a good thing.

Potty Chronicle: Day 15

The potty training seems to be mostly complete. Most days, we have just one accident. Usually, it's the end of the day, when Tommy's patience is wearing thin. He's getting really good at telling me when he has to go poop, but I still have to make him go pee about every 1.5 hrs. He never says he has to go pee.

In related news, we seem to be mixing our signals around here and confusing many words for potty-related things. This morning, Tommy was invited to a birthday party. "But I don't WANT to go on the potty!!!" He insisted. No, Tommy. Par-ty. Bennett's party. Also, he just told me he wanted a cookie, and I could have sworn he said he had to go poop.

This is Why I Do It

I never knew my house would be filled with:
-ridiculous quantities of Spiderman underwear,
-denim miniskirts that measure less than 5 inches in length,
-books, books, books everywhere,
-children sighing themselves off to sleep,
-so much love my heart is ready to burst.

Oh, Lucy Goose

My middle child. While categorizing my blog entries this week, I realized with dismay that I've neglected to mention Lucy as much as I should. I really should. Right now, my Goose Girl is climbing into a large, child-sized rocking chair. She can't quite get up there on her own today (because her sweat pants cause her to slip down). She cries out for my help, but in Mama-like stubborn fashion, Lucy allows me to lift her only an extra inch to get into the chair. She won't allow me to seat her there entirely.

Then she sings to her herself, "Raaaaah, raaaah" and looks over at me for an approving response.

And then it's off to the next adventure.