Fiesta!

Well.

I have entered the world of crazy.

But I think we all knew that would happen.

Earlier this week my rose colored glasses were broken.

Luckily for me, the world still holds beauty without them.

...

This weekend I took our little girl to a birthday party.

Which turned out to actually be a giant family reunion of a huge Mexican clan.

I sat the whole time, thankful for Joey and his cute face as a buffer and slightly alarmed to be the only white person in a room full of extremely friendly, but difficult to understand, grandmas and aunts and overly-friendly uncles.

I did get a spontaneous hug from what might have been the oldest looking woman I have ever encountered. She didn't seem to mind in the slightest that I had never met her before. I was standing, so I should be hugged.

The awkwardness I endured for two and a half hours was all worth it to hear that I was part of our five-year old's very first time ever going to a friend's house. As we drove to the party her legs bounced and her ponytail whipped as she tried to look out of all of the van windows at the same time.

She very shyly admitted that she had never been to a friend's house before.

When we arrived she hid behind my legs, even when her friend ran to greet her. Throughout the party she would come find me and ask if she could participate in different activities. By the end of our time her cheeks were pink and her eyes were sparkling.

I was exhausted from smiling and making halting conversation, but she was full and that made me glad.

I am thankful to have had that moment of satisfaction, because the weekend went down-hill from there.

Without all the shocking details (truly, shocking, I mean ... like worthy of an episode of some crime drama), I will sum up the last three days by saying that we have had two boys suspended from school, found drugs in our back yard, called the police three times in as many days, had two children removed from our home by the police and heard more profanity than I have ever heard strung together in my life.

The first night of chaos, I felt battered. I was confused and obsessed with all the things I did wrong that only made things worse. The second day of chaos I thought, I've seen it all before (how quickly I am learning) and the third day, today, I just feel sad.

It is sad to see so much brokenness.

I have begun to learn to pray in new, desperate ways and to invite God into my home at every moment.

I am grateful tonight for my mom and dad. I am thankful for support from friends old and new, and I am amazed that God's word is so alive and so powerful for today.

I was going to end by commending all of the moms and dads I know and emphasizing what an important job it is to parent, even imperfectly - but I realized that inside of me a soapbox is growing in huge-monstrous proportions and standing on a soapbox after three days of no sleep and heightened emotional levels is not wise.

So instead, I will end by saying that Jack and Joey are doing well. Joey is the star of the house and everybody wants to be the one to sit next to him in the van and help carry him into church.

Jack is finding his place in the house slowly but surely. Most nights I wake up and find he has snuck into my bed at some point in the night. When I discover him I relish the warmth of his wiggly little self next to me and kiss his buzz-cut-head. Then I usually carry him back to bed so I can sleep.

A few times I have actually just gone to sleep in his bed to save the effort of moving him from his comfortable and safe place.

We all are making our adjustments, but we are intact. We have met new friends, Andy and I have laughed and smiled and worked together and I haven't even made him listen to me cry (yet). We are tired and my brain is so full that new bits of information are temporarily being turned away - a problem - yes, but nothing a handy pen and paper can't take care of! Through it all, we are meeting God and meeting each other.

The last days have not been easy, but they have a purpose, and I am content in that.

And how could I not be finding the beauty in my days with these blokes about?

Jack, if when you are older you wonder why there are three pictures of Joey and only one of you - it is because you are miserable to take a picture of. You are too fast and usually are stuffing food in your face. And when you aren't eating, it is probably because you are coloring.

On your face.

In ink that is very hard to wash off.

But I adore you still my funny, sweet, clever and artsy boy!

GAAAAHHHHHHHH!

I told you several months ago that I moved in with my in-laws.

I have a story I could tell, every day, about this adventure, but I am saving them all up to tell them in bulk some day.

Speaking of telling you stories,

it appears I have not

shared my dirty-mouth-due-to-Biggest Loser-story.

My apologies.

I shall remedy that now.

Let me start by telling you

that I just really don't like cursing.

I don't even like to say, "I swear"

when I mean "I'm totally serious."

Until this story took place,

I had only said one bad word

in my whole life.

It was in sixth-grade and I was late for the

bus for a band field trip

and I couldn't find my flute.

I said "the s word."

Gasp.

I don't even really like writing

"the s word."

But yes, I played the flute in middle school.

However nerdy and school-girl

you can imagine me at that age,

multiply it by about a million and a half,

and that would be me.

In purple stirrup pants.

But back to present day.

Imagine me a just a few weeks from birthing

my second son.

Huge.

And tired.

And with a brain that was totally malfunctioning.

Andy and I were watching

Biggest Loser.

Well, I was sort of spacing out on the couch

while Biggest Loser was on

and Andy was taking care

of things around the house

and wandering back to see highlights

of the show.

At some dramatic twist to the weigh-in

Jillian Michaels swore.

Big time.

Like the worst one of the bad words.

They beeped it out, but her mouth

made her emotions extremely obvious.

Andy heard drama on the screen

and wandered back to get caught up.

As he was walked into the room he

asked, "What'd she say?"

And without the slightest hesitation,

that dirty word fell out of my mouth.

And Andy fell right to the floor.

It took me just a second to realize what I had just done,

but Andy caught it immediately.

I am not sure

if he has ever laughed that hard.

Needless to say, my face was very red

and my dirty-mouth count now is up to two.

Anyway, I now live out in the country.

With a cat that catches mice and snakes.

And a family of dear, complete with a daddy-buck with antlers, that we see in the morning eating apples that have fallen from our apple tree.

Before you picture a barn, let me show you my current residence:

Not too shabby eh?

The house is new, but even new houses in the country can't avoid the blight on an otherwise perfect season.

Spiders.

The destroyer of all my lovely feelings about autumn.

Not just any spiders, wolf spiders. Don't click that link if you can't handle spiders.

Gah!

Now, I'm not life-or-death afraid of spiders. I'm just grossed out on a normal-person level. Except wolf spiders. I'm probably a little more then normal-person afraid of them.

Screams and everything.

Well, it appears that I will have to overcome that squeamishness if I am to raise two boys in the country.

Today Jack ran up to me with a very proud face and said, "Mama! What that?"

Usually he brings me a crumb or dust bunny to examine. A few times it has been a dead bug, but that has seemed manageable.

I was bracing myself for a fat fly or crusty crane-fly until he came up with a closed fist.

Dread set in.

He had something ALIVE.

He opened his hand, and his entire palm, his sweet, pudgy, baby-soft palm, was covered by a wolf spider.

I screamed.

He dropped it.

I then had the unfortunate task of catching the spider and killing it.

The only thing close enough to grab and still keep my eye on the spider was a piece of mail. Me with a tiny piece of paper against a killer-arachnid! I wildly tossed the envelope on the floor, hoping to have it land on the speedy, ugly guy and then squish him under it, but the spider was so big and fat that even when the envelope landed on it, it was no use, the spider just continued to crawl around - with a piece of mail on its back! What sort of monstrous bug does that?! Eventually I had to get a tiny big braver and press the paper down onto the spider with precision.

GAHHHHAAAAHHHHH!

Precision is difficult to manage when you are imagining a fist-sized spider turning on you, leaping at your face and then devouring your first-born child.

But I finally prevailed.

I wish I could convey my terror and disgust. Even writing it now I feel like I have bugs all over me.

But as soon as the carcass was disposed of I thought, who can I tell?

There is only one person who can fully appreciate the horror of such a moment.

My sister.

I called her and left a trembling message, ending with several reenactments of my shrieks at discovering the black creature on my son (insert gag here).

Jack though that my squealing was hysterical. For the rest of the night he asked me, "Mama, what'd you say?"

When I would forget I would say, "What do you mean?"

He would smile wickedly and say, "About a spider!"

Then it was my job to squawk and watch him laugh at the memory.

He also kept wanting to examine the envelope for signs of guts and leftover spider bits.

Oh boys!

How many more years of boys being interested in bugs do I have left? I'm not sure I can handle it if this becomes a daily habit, which I am afraid of given Jack's delight at my loss of self-control today.

Next time, I will have to try very hard to not make a scene.

Actually, I don't know if that is even possible.

I'll have to try something else.

Can you give a kid a time-out for bringing you gross things?

GAHHHHH!!!! Every time I think about it I shudder.

GAHHHHHH!!!!

This kid is going to give me a run for my money!

In-Between

*Um, I still have only been getting about two hours of sleep at a time (that makes about 7 months of sleep deprivation). I have a feeling that when I read back over this post it will be a little confusing and rambling, but it makes me feel like myself to write things, so I'm just trying to capture things when I can.

I also had a toddler bouncing on my lap the entire time.

So if you make it through the whole thing, kudos to you! Good luck!

...

Most days, I really, really love bedtime.

Some days I love it because it means I will be putting both of my li'l pumpkins away for the evening and freeing my hands for some activity of my choosing...

or the dishes...

but still,

doing dishes with two free hands

is infinitely easier

then doing them

with no free hands...

But those days are surprisingly rare.

What I really love about bedtime is that it is the part of our day that Jack and I both are most familiar with.

It has been the same, give or take a few details, from his birth.

It is a chance to end on a good note.

Some of the hardest days have ended with the sweetest cuddles and nighttime songs.

I also love bedtime

because it reminds me

of one of the most

memorable parts of my childhood.

I remember my dad

tucking me in until

I was in high school.

The stories that he read to me

hold special places in my heart

and I can't wait until

Jack and Joey are

old enough to enjoy them too.

As Jack has been getting older, he's been getting sneakier. He knows how to make me do things that weren't part of my original plan and he gets his way far more often then I would have thought he would.

His new ploy has been to prolong bedtime by asking me to "nuggle" him. If he is feeling very ambitious he will ask to "nuggle on the couch" which I almost always refuse because it will inevitably lead to him asking to watch a show, or eat a chocolate chip or play hide and seek.

And we all know what happens when you give a mouse a cookie...

When the couch request fails he asks me to lay down next to him. I usually oblige while we tell our stories or sing our songs. Recently he has decided that mama's bed is more interesting then his own and will often ask to have his stories there.

Last night, after sitting quietly on the deck and watching the stars and listening to airplanes and cars and frogs, I knew it was time for him to be in his own bed, by himself, with his eyes closed. So when he asked me to snuggle in mama's bed, I lovingly told him that it was time for bed. Then I closed the door and moved on with the evening.

Jack usually is in bed around 8:00. Somewhere around 10:00 I wandered into my bedroom only to discover that my cheeky little monkey had silently crept out of his bed and tucked himself into mine!

With our light still on, he was passed out on my pillow with a book tucked under his arm.

It was one of the sweetest, most charming things I have ever seen.

And for some reason it made my heart ache.

Mothering is so complicated. Complicated seems a much more accurate word then "hard."

There are the tedious parts: the dressing and undressing, feeding, figuring out naps...

There are the disgusting parts: diapers, spit-up, sick babies...

There are the sweet and silly parts: wild dance parties, tickle attacks, funny faces...

There are the rewarding parts: seeing your child learn new skills, words and emotions and hearing them say please and thank you, even when you aren't there to remind them...

But then, there are all those parts in-between.

Last night was one of those in-between parts.

When I looked at him curled up in my bed I suddenly remembered that some day, he will face major disappointments and I might not know the words to make them better. Some day he will make significant mistakes, and he may not choose to tell me about them. Some day, his feelings will be hurt, he will struggle, he will be responsible for his own actions.

The part that is totally captivated by Jack's wonderful personality and is truly enjoying seeing him grow up was face-to-face with the part that recognizes that my job is to prepare him for his adult life.

That is a little bit scary to me.

So while I was bursting with the sweetness of finding my toddler asleep in my bed, I was also sobered by the significant responsibility that I bear as a mother.

I'm not sure what to do with those in-between times, but I have a feeling that I don't do much different at this point.

I keep enjoying bedtime and continue to feed and diaper and play. I watch him, and teach him all that I can about shapes and colors and good attitudes and socially acceptable behavior while playing with other children.

Every day I open my hands a little wider to give him space to learn what he is capable of and remind him that I see great things in him.

I remember that as much as I love him and want to protect him and offer him every good thing, even my best efforts will fall short somewhere.

Every day, as I lead two wonderful boys, I must let myself be led by a parent far more capable and wise and creative then I can ever hope to be.

There really is no other way.

So Lord, thank you for these lives entrusted to me, let me enjoy them, but not hold too tight to them.

There is a much longer conversation here, happening between me and God, but I'm not sure it will be terribly interesting to you.

But I hope, that if you have been enveloped in those in-between times, that I am right there with you. Luckily we serve a God who is never in-between. He is over and in and around and under... covering over all of our lack.

Peace to you in the in-betweens friends.

Jack Attack III

Jack has been especially charming as of late.

It is easy to adore him when his skin is so soft and his smile is so big and his dimples are so deep...

But it is even more fun to adore him when he says cute things, initiates wrestling matches and softly touches my face and says, "mama!"

It's been a while since I've updated you on this awesome little man, and I figured you were probably dying to know all about what he's doing now!

• He sings along with his favorite show's theme song. His favorite line being "come in." That is how he tells me he wants to watch that show, he says, "me min?" And I melt and say okay.
• When he sees something unfortunate happen he says, "Oh no!" I love that he is starting to notice what is happening to the people around him.
• He hides things, or throws things and the energetically says, "Where'd it go?" with his hands up in the air with an attitude of surprise and eager anticipation at finding it again soon.
• When he sees or eats something he likes and it is finished he says, "more?" But he says it over and over and over and ends up sounding like a really soft spoken and sweet version of the seagulls on Finding Nemo.
• His attention span impresses me every day. This little boy loves stickers. I have two tablets of those little round "way to go" stickers, you know the ones that come in a package of 2000 in the Crayola aisle at Target? He will sit for half an hour and stick one after another on a piece of paper. When he does it he is very serious and intent. It is amazing to me!
• He also loves songs with motions. "If You're Happy And You Know It" is my favorite one to sing because on cue he will clap his hands, stomp his feet, turn around AND shout amen.
• Andy has been teaching Jack new boy tricks too. Jack now is practicing jumping off things with two feet leaving the ground at the same time as well as knowing how and when to "tap out." Yes, it is true. Andy will squeeze Jack really tight and say, "tap out!" and Jack waves his hand around and says, "tap, tap."
• All of these sweet moments make it so fun to play with him. But I also appreciate that he now will find an activity that interests him and do it totally solo. It is such a delight to watch him hard at work at whatever he has decided to do.

Every day he does something that makes me smile and turn to Andy to say, "How did we end up with such an awesome kid?!" It is fun to see him grow and learn and to discover that he is a naturally soft and sweet and in my opinion incredibly talented!

Discovery

So far, everything is as I expected for the dinner swap. Ooooohh I love it so!

The additional benefit is that my housework has been done a good two or three hours before it usually is because my kitchen stays clean all evening. I've discovered that I need some sort of evening hobby, or at least a trip to the library to keep myself occupied. I've forgotten what to do with free time!

In Jack news, the smart boy discovered a trick that will serve him well all his life. He learned how to cover his ears.

On Sunday we went out to dinner with a couple friends after church. While we were waiting for our food to come, Jack was getting wiggly. We were asking him to do all of his tricks to keep him occupied (which currently are adorable animal sounds. The rooster and turkey being my favorite).

I'm not sure how he first figured it out, but at some point he folded his bendy baby ears over and then looked at us with surprise. He kept doing it, and kept making silly faces. It took us all a while to figure out what was going on.

We finally got it when a song he liked came on and he started dancing in his seat. Then he would cover his ears and listen with his cute little head cocked to the side. Then he would dramatically uncover his ears and make a face of amazement.

I tell you what, I never knew how entertaining little people can be! And who would have thought that I would celebrate the day he learned how to cover his ears?!

Oh the wonders of motherhood.

Captain Jack

What Jack wore to the pirate themed birthday party this weekend.

Arrrgggh! (hook finger)

Flash

Andy and I went to church tonight, as usual. Our post-church routine is to stop somewhere and pick up dinner. By the time we get home around 8:00/8:30 Jack is either asleep or pretty near, so we put him to bed and then eat dinner while we watch CSI or some other mindless entertainment.

Tonight, however, we deviated from the customary and went over for a co-op dinner at a friend's house. Four couples were there and we each brought something to contribute. It was a truly lovely time, but of course it meant that Jack stayed up WAY later than usual.

It is now just a few minutes before 11 and we are just settling into home. What is so very charming though is that Jack was out cold in the car. Andy got him out of his carseat and as I admired our baby's sleeping face and Andy enjoyed the rare moment of snuggling I off-handedly said, "Doesn't it just make you want to go in and sit on the couch and let him sleep on you?!"

To which Andy replied, "Maybe I will!"

And he did.

So my sweet husband and my adorable son are laying on the couch enjoying each other. A flashback to when Jack was an itty bitty new baby. And a flashforward to our new addition.

Sweet Life.

That's My Cue

I've never been strict about nap and bed times with Jack.

It might be because I'm not super regimented anyway, but it might also be that his cues for needing sleep are so obvious that I've never had to question when he needs rest and when he doesn't.

I thought you might like a virtual glimpse of some of my favorite cues that Jack needs a nap.

THE CLASSIC: eye rubbing, yawning, head shaking... other cutesy baby-like signals that mean, "Oh! I'm getting sleepy."

THE MANIC: This one involves wildly running from every corner of the house, usually laughing in a shrill, slightly crazy, fashion. His movements get really fast and he doesn't stay in one place very long.

THE CLUMSY: This one often works in conjunction with The Manic. Jack starts to trip over things or run into walls and then get up and laugh it off, only to stumble just a few steps later.

THE CRANKY: Usually involves wanting to be picked up but not wanting to stay picked up, some sort of physical outburst and general unpleasantness.

THE NAUGHTY: My least favorite (but it makes it the easiest to put him in his crib). Not to be confused with Cranky. Sometimes when Jack needs a nap he lets me know by going around the house and touching every single thing (over and over and over again) that he knows is off limits. If I find myself saying, "No! Don't touch that!" forty-five times in a row, I usually move the little fingers into their little bed.

THE SILLY: This one is the newest and, in my opinion, the cutest. This is when anything I do is just hysterical. We can be sitting on the couch and I just open my mouth and all of a sudden Jack is in a fit of giggles. Oh, you can't even believe the sweet sound of real, true, delighted laughter coming from that little boy. I usually drag this one out as long as I can. When he stops laughing and starts staring into space, I know we're done.

THE OBVIOUS: This one is pretty cute too. And it makes it an easy decision to switch into sleeping mode. Jack will be playing and having a grand ol' time, when all of a sudden I look over and he is laying motionless on the floor. Eyes open, toy in hand, but totally still. Yep. When a 16 month old boy chooses to lay still, you know he needs a nap.

I feel pretty lucky that Jack is such a good communicator about when he needs rest. It sure makes it easy to have people babysit or to tell when it will be a two nap day instead of one. Just one of Jack's many fine qualities - of which I am trying to remind myself of as he proceeds to drive me crazy this week.

Any advice on making it through the food throwing/hair pulling/hitting/saying "no" a million times/climbing on the table/trowing the phone in the toilet/running out the back door and down a flight of stairs while my back was turned for half a second phase?

Anyone?

Real Life

Do you ever wonder about the real lives of your blogger friends?

Not the charming stories they tell you or the quippy remarks they make about small incidents in their lives.

No, I mean their REAL lives.

Well, if you have ever wondered, let me give you a glimpse at the less than glimmering moments of my last two real days.

REAL LIFE FRIDAY:

Wake up and prepare to host a second toddler all day. 8-5.

Don't bother with a shower or even real clothes. Andy's sweats and the t-shirt I wore to bed are good enough.

Welcome baby #2 and reassure mom that I adore her child and am delighted to have him again.

Hear Andy open the door. Also hear rustling of plastic bag... did he bring me something? Yes he did! An iced chai and a cinnamon roll! Yay! I love this man!

Uneventful day. Well, in terms of grown up events. Baby #2 has the runs, there is the usual hitting, crying, saying "NO!" a million times. The major accomplishment of the day was Jack eating a real lunch (not just graham crackers or fishy crackers and a banana) including ALL of his vegetables. I was thrilled about that (there is no sarcasm in that statement, it I really was so excited that I squealed).

Both babies take a mid-afternoon nap and I decide to join them.

Wake up at 4:50, ten minutes before mum is supposed to arrive. Check my phone. Three new texts!

Mum says traffic is horrible and she missed the first bus. She will be at least 45 minutes late.

Bummer. That means I won't be able to go cheer Andy on at softball tonight.

Andy is home and both babes wake. Andy rummages around the fridge and asks if the steak in there is for dinner tonight.

I answer in the affirmative. A few moments later I realize that he is asking me if I will make dinner NOW instead of after his games. Ug. I hate telling him no and if he is hungry I feel like I'm not doing my job well, but I have two babies who just woke up and need attention and only 30 minutes before he has to leave.

I hand Andy a baby and scurry into the kitchen to see what I can make happen in 28 minutes and counting.

Hair flying everywhere. Getting sweaty. How does Rachel Ray do it?

Both babies in the kitchen and unhappy. What is Andy doing? He was supposed to entertain the kids while I cook.

Andy emerges from the bedroom in his softball uniform. I ask him to change baby #2's diaper. Don't hear a response and prepare to do it myself. I won't send my charge home with soiled pants!

Andy intercepts the diaper and sets to work. I hear him open it up and groan. Expecting a full one I peek around the corner. I see nothing. Andy calls me closer... "Honey! Look at this! It is gross!" I've seen a million gross diapers. I'm sure it is nothing. I walk over. And laugh. It is one little dot... really no bigger than my pinky nail... and he asks me to wipe it! Seriously?

Seriously.

I rush back into the kitchen and try and pull the meal together. I know Andy won't have time to eat it, but I offer to send it in a tupperware so he can eat it on the road (his friend was driving). As I'm pulling things off burners and mashing the potatoes and bouncing Jack on one hip Andy comes in to say he has to go. He's going to leave without his food?!

Fighting.

Andy leaves four minutes later with food in hand. Most of it. He refused the potatoes saying he didn't want to eat them in the car. I wish I had known that before I started making them. Both of us are still steaming.

Baby #2 gets picked up.

Send Andy text apology and explain why I got so worked up. Receive apology back. All is right with the world.

Put Jack to bed.

Tidy up.

Collapse on the couch.

Andy comes home.

More apologies.

Take a shower.

Go to bed.

REAL LIFE SATURDAY:

Usual wake up routine.

Highlight of the morning is story time with Jack. We curl up on the couch. He brings me a book, I read it, and when we finish he crawls off my lap, finds the next book of interest, brings it to me and crawls back in my lap. Ah!

Receive text message from Andy asking if it is okay if he watches the fights at a friends house.

Start to cry.

I hate telling Andy no! He works so hard, I want him to have a chance to play. But I work so hard too. When do I get to play?

Consider sending back a text message that explains that I don't feel like I can handle another (three for the week) night of putting Jack to bed by myself and spending the evening in isolation. Instead stick with the simplest answer, "I would rather you didn't"

Text tumbleweeds roll.

Know that I have not sent the answer he was hoping for. The night is going to be lame at home anyway if he wishes he were at the fights. Try to come up with a plan that will give me some relief and still let him go.

Send a second text message offering to send him off the the fights with well wishes in exchange for and extra $X0 (dollar amounts have asked to remain unidentified) and a few hours of solo shopping time BEFORE the fights.

Andy replies: "DEAL!"

Shoot! I should have asked for more money!

Exchange several phone calls with Lizzie, trying to coordinate an outing for the morning.

Hurriedly throw on some make up and tame my hair, not with a shower, but with bobby pins. Dress Jack and set off with Lizzie and Jack for a few late-summer yard sales.

Acquire four brightly colored and uniquely shaped vases for a quarter each.

Return home from sales and hang out with Lizzie while Dane and Jack play and Jason grocery shops.

Take Jack upstairs and put him down for a nap.

Crawl into bed and pick up the Chronicles of Narnia. I wonder how many times I have read these stories.

Hear Andy come home. Pop out of bed, brush my teeth, grab my cash and all but run out the door.

Grocery shopping is last on my list before going back home, so I choose two stores that always have something and are near my desired grocery location.

Find a pair of earrings I love... but nothing else. Not even anything worth trying on. The line is ridiculous and not worth standing in for a pair of earrings.

Try second store. Nothing. How disappointing.

Consider crying but don't. Not worth it.

Less than an hour and I've exhausted my options for shopping (in this location). But I'm right next door to the grocery store so I give up my dream of a carefree afternoon and get back to mommy work.

Wander the aisles. Forget things. Wander back down the aisles.

Grab the juice we like and watch helplessly as two extra jugs come with the one I grabbed. One is safe and the other is spilling all over the floor and is splashed all over my leg.

Look around for an employee to notify, but don't see anyone. So I walk away. Well, it probably looked like I walked away, but I was really going to look for someone to alert at the end of this aisle.

Is everyone staring at me?

Am I leaving sticky, dirty footprints that will lead them straight to me, the juice spilling culprit?

I turn around and look back at the scene. An employee has arrived. I imagine him coming up to the mess and accosting the nearest shopper, "Did you see what happened?!" All the fingers point to me as I try to inconspicuously move on. But I feel his eyes staring. He knows it was me.

Continue shopping.

Also knock a box of pancake mix off the shelf and have a discussion about nectarines with a stranger.

Spot the juice-incident employee at the end of this aisle and try to avoid eye contact.

Pause at the magazine rack. Thumb through the hair cut magazines and see the next perfect style. But refuse to pay $10 for a magazine.

Pay for groceries and load them in the car.

Drive home.

Discover an empty house. Andy and Jack must be down with Dane and Jason.

Lug groceries up stairs.

Put away refrigerated items and leave the rest until tomorrow.

Go down to visit everyone.

Send Andy out for dinner.

Come back upstairs when dinner arrives.

Realize I didn't find ALL of the refrigerated items when I first brought the groceries in. Stick them in the fridge and hope they don't go bad or make us sick.

Eat dinner.

Yum.

Bid farewell to Andy with an unintentionally snappy remark and apologize again. I've been having to do that a lot lately.

Jack helps me unload the dishwasher. Which is mommy speak for making the job take twice as long and creating a second mess that is twice as big.

Text a few friends in hopes that they randomly have a free evening. Receive all "no" answers, but well wishes. Feel very lame.

Play with Jack.

Bath time for baby.

Stories, brush teeth, sing, pray. Put him in his crib.

Sigh.

Survey all the chores that need to be done and decide they can all wait. Possibly forever.

The two pieces of chocolate in the freezer and HGTV are calling my name.

While The Cat Is Away

This weekend I was gone from my family for two nights.

That is the longest ever!

I was co-coordinating a retreat for 15 women in Chelan (Eastern Washington). I had such grand visions of being that woman who left meals labeled in the fridge and her house spotless. Instead, by the time I handled all the bits and pieces I needed to organize for the retreat, the best I could manage was a whiteboard list of acceptable and easy foods for Andy to feed Jack.

I guess leaving is something I will get better at with practice.

I was okay on Friday night. Even when I got a text message from Andy that said our night-time babysitter had forgotten about her commitment and was on her way to Portland, I didn't really worry. She came back guys, it all worked out. In fact, I wasn't ever worried. I know that Andy is totally capable with Jack, despite his teasing and self-depreciating remarks.

But by Sunday, when all of the tasks of the weekend were finished, I REALLY missed my boys. I couldn't get home fast enough.

When I got home, I discovered Jack calmly eating an almost well-balanced meal, a spotless kitchen, an empty laundry basket and drawers full of perfectly folded clothes, and a warm hug from Andy. When Jack was done eating and was out of his highchair he ran all around me and was eager to play tickling games. In the middle of each round he would stop and kiss me several times, like he was saying, "I'm so glad you're home mom! I just can't get enough of you!"

What a wonderful, wonderful feeling.

The Days Go By

I've been training a lot.

I've got a cold.

I love DayQuil.

Jack says, "no, no, no" as he proceeds to do something that he knows is off limits. 

He does things that are off limits... A LOT.

Andy is watching a really (really!) gruesome MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) fight. I can usually watch them with him, but once there is blood, I'm out-a-there.

MY CHAIRS CAME!

And Jack thinks they are terrific. 

That white thing is his safety blanket. 

His safety blanket is a snowman. Have I told you about his love for his snowman? By snowman, I really do mean a snowman. It was his Halloween costume and somehow, I don't remember how, it was in his crib one night. Since then it has been in his crib every night. When Andy and I put him to sleep he finds it, curls up all around it and smiles. My son, with a snowman lovey.

Sigh. 

Life is good. 

Harder Than I Thought

Oh friends.

Today is a day that I realize how consuming having a toddler is. 

Last night, Jack woke up every half-hour, almost to the minute for about two hours. That means that I also woke up every half hour. It means that my head is woozy this morning and my eyelids are very, very heavy.

Despite the fatigue, I am in my gym clothes, ready to head out the door for a training session. 

Oh.

Wait.

Nope.

I am in my gym clothes, yes. But I am not about to head out the door. Because for the second day in a row, Jack has chosen the exact moment I am packing all of our things for a great workout to flip the switch that turns him from happy, playful, giggling Jack to crying, inconsolable, tired and cranky Jack.

That means that I am currently listening to him try and settle down for a random morning nap. 

I think he must be cutting another tooth.

Teething is such a mystery. 

So while I have some extra time on my hands, let's have an honest talk about this triathlon, shall we? I am tired of training. And when I'm miss a training session, I am tired of feeling guilty and worried about how I'll do in the race. 

It is much harder than I anticipated to make it to the gym all the times that I want. 

The good news is that when I was shaving my legs the other day I noticed some really remarkable muscle definition and a few weeks ago I had a stranger compliment me on my arms in the store. So, at least there is some benefit to the working out.

Despite the difficulty of trying to fit in all the workouts, I am still glad I've signed myself up for this. I know that if I didn't have a goal in mind, I probably wouldn't make it to the gym at all. Something is always better than nothing. Agreed? Plus, I'm learning a lot, and when I do make it for a run or swim, I feel fantastic. 

But the months are counting down and the days are becoming fewer. In just 11 weeks, whether or not I'm ready, I will be racing. 

Aghhh!

What was I thinking?!

Bum Genius

Our family made a huge leap this week.

We are now officially cloth diaper users.

When Jack was first born I never even considered cloth diapers. I thought they were difficult, bulky and uncomfortable for the baby. 

But did you know there are so many other options?! 

A few weeks ago I began to consider cloth as a viable option for our family. I was so sick of buying diapers only to throw them in the trash. I was appalled at the amount of money we were spending on diapers and sorry to be adding so much waste to those darn landfills. 

So I started to look at my choices. A pregnant friend of mine previously had said she was considering cloth and showed me some of the brands she was looking at. I went back to those websites and started my research.

Then, while shopping with a friend in Seattle, I found one of the brands I had been exploring. I bought a single diaper with the idea that I would just try it out and see if it would even come close to fitting our family's lifestyle.

I tried it and I loved it!

When I told Andy I wanted to switch to cloth diapers he said pretty much exactly what I expected, "Sure! But it means I'm off diaper duty." 

On Wednesday, this came:

I pre-washed them all and yesterday we spent all day in them. By "we" I mean Jack of course. 

In the evening, after his bath I invited Andy to try out the new diapers. I got one out, showed him how to do it (exactly the same as with a disposable) and when he had snapped Jack up he said, "That's it?"

Yep. 

In addition to being ridiculously cute (I can now have solid colors that I adore instead of cartoon characters that I couldn't care less about) and financially smart AND environmentally friendly, they also give Jack super powers. He now can climb up on things without batting an eyelash. I'm just waiting for the day when he pushes the chair up to the kitchen counter and grabs the knives out of their block. 

Oh dear.

But I think that day would have come anyway. The incredible powers of the diapers only sped up the process.

I feel so savvy now. So swanky, so hip.

And Jack has the cutest bum on the block now, that's for sure! 

You Should See the Other Kid

Budding Artist

Jack has discovered coloring.

I LOVE it!

He was playing with Ellery yesterday, and she was coloring a picture. He seemed very interested in the activity, so I put him in his high chair and let him loose. 

He was very serious about it. I am used to seeing this face when Jack plays:

But his face maintained this expression almost the whole time: 

Do you notice the ink on his face and hands? Don't worry, it washed right off in the bathtub.

Now that Jack is creating these masterpieces, I am faced with a difficult parenting decision. Do I become one of those moms who saves every single bit of artwork that my son makes, and then unload it on him and his future wife when they move to their first house? Or do I callously throw it away with total disregard for his creative endeavors, possibly stunting his self-expression and scarring him emotionally? 

Maybe I'll just mail it to a grandma and let her make the decision.

Another One Bites the Dust

Number of beaded bracelets broken: three

Number of earrings that have lost their partners due to being pulled out and tossed to an unknown location: two

Number of earrings that have lost their partners due to running at high speeds, chasing a toddler, thereby causing the earring to bounce from its safe perch in ear: one

Number of shower puffs to be pulled loose from the central binding, creating an extremely impressive pile of jewel-hued mesh: two 

Number of beaded necklaces broken at target, scattering the beads all over the closet organization aisle one day after receiving it as a gift: one 

Word Games

We at one time had two sets of alphabet magnets, with one of each letter in each set.

Very few letters remain.

I keep them in a tupperware in the kitchen cabinet and pull them out when Jack is bored, or when I'm cooking and he needs something to entertain himself. 

The usual way we play with them is that I put them all on the fridge, saying each letter (and sometimes the color).  Then I put together simple words and just talk about the nothing-type of things that moms talk about with their children who can't talk back.  Then, after about two seconds Jack eagerly swings at the letters, knocking them off the magnetic surface. Sometimes he tries to stick them back on, sometimes he just slides them under the fridge (hence the limited letter options), and a lot of time he piles them back in the tupperware to be dumped out again and again.  

So here is my challenge to you: How many words can you make with our limited magnets? The longest word gets a gold star! The person with the most words will also get a gold star!

Here are your letters:

Your vowels: 

Your blue and green consonants: 

Your yellow, red, orange and pink consonants: 

And, if you don't have any moral objections about lying to a 14-month old, you may also use the two sevens upside down as "L."

Ready?  Let the game begin!

Remember, gold stars are on the line people!

Before 8:30 AM on a Sunday Morning

• Snuggle Jack
  
• Prepare a bottle & feed it to Jack (an excuse for more snuggling)
  
• Review alphabet using colorful letter magnets
  
• Unload the dishwasher
  
• Load the dishwasher
  
• Pull Jack out of the open dishwasher where he likes to climb if given a fraction-of-a-second opportunity 
  
• Prepare Sunday Big Breakfast for three
  
• Clean up Sunday Big Breakfast mess
  
• Dispose of 1/4 of SBB in the garbage disposal
  
• Put 1/4 of leftover SBB in the fridge for a quick Jack Snack later in the day
• Hand wash pots and pans
• Empty the trash
• Diaper count: three
• Tickle count: three
• Number of balls bounced: two
• Number of balls thrown away because Jack took a bite of of them and choked: one
• Books read: one
• Blog entries mentally composed for the morning's happenings and emotions: two
• Blog entries actually posed: zero (before 8:30... one, obviously, after that.)

It Is Official

Well, there is no going back now.  

Andy and I are officially grown up.  Or at least, grown-ups. 

Earlier this week we met with our very own financial planner.  We outlined long-term financial goals and established retirement accounts, beyond the 401 offered by Andy's work. 

We discussed saving for Jack's college and realized that now that we are parents, we need to make a will, so that in the event of our untimely demise, there is a plan for Jack's well-being.  You can bet that conversation made me cry.  No decisions were made. We will come back to that when I feel a little more stable.

Gosh.  Just one year ago, I never even thought about these things.  And now look at me.  All grown up and responsible. 

Sheesh.

In other growing up news, Jack will have his first overnight stay at Grandma's house this evening.  I'm going to a conference tomorrow that requires that I leave at 6:00am, and that is much too early to be dropping off a baby... so the next most obvious choice is that Jack just spends the night, so that he gets a full nights rest and my mother-in-law doesn't have to get up at 5:30 in the morning.

But I'm kind of freaking out.  Well, not really.  But I want to.  I know it needs to happen sometime. I'm hoping to fly to Nashville in September for five nights or so, and I guess if I really am going to do that, I better take some baby steps toward letting my little boy spread his wings. 

Ugh. 

All this talk of wills and of Jack getting so big...

It's putting me in a funk.

Or that could just be the residual brownie guilt, the whining extra child today, or the fact that I only made it to the gym once this week.  

Whatever the reason, I need to snap out of it.  

So I've opened my windows and guzzled a great big glass of ice water.

I've got a gal-pal coming over for lunch and a plan in place to walk both babes to the park after their naps.  That makes me excited.  

Have I told you how much Jack loves to swing?

A lot.

Maybe that is what I need.  I good swing-session.

It shall be done. 

I hope you are entering the weekend funk-free and that you maybe even get a chance to swing a bit.

Wishing you loveliness today!

Jack Attack II

Jack Attack I is here.

So what has my boy been learning lately?

Well, he is now a champion communicator.  He signs "all done" when he is done eating his food, or ready for a new activity.  I also think that he says "done" when he does it, because he has a very clear "doh" sound that he makes consistently as he signs. He has also started letting us know when he wants to eat by patting his open mouth with his hand when he feels ready for a nosh. 

His ever-growing word list:

ball

balloon

bottle (ba ba)

hello

bye-bye

Dada

Mama

thank you (You may find this one hard to believe, I do too.  But both my mom and Andy have noticed it too.  I choose to believe the best of my baby, so I will assume that what sounds like "thank you" is really meant to be thank you.)

He is also finding brilliant ways to get what he wants (usually without any tantrum involved... though we did have our first all-out tantrum yesterday as I ushered him away from the bathroom.  He was already on the cusp of needing a nap, so I kindly put him in bed to finish his screaming and, what do you know, he was asleep within just a few minutes!).  I carry snacks in my purse for when we are out and about.  One of Jack's favorites is the dehydrated strawberries from Trader Joe's.  I had given him some from my purse earlier in the day.  When we got home, I was putting away our purchases and I heard him rummaging in my bag.  I turned around and He had pulled out the package of strawberries and was walking toward me with them.  He said, "ah! ah!" and handed me the bag and then proceeded to sit on the floor and look up at me expectantly as if to say, "Mom, I would like some of these please.  I will sit here nicely and eat them."  I gave him some, and he did sit there nicely.  Just like that.  Genius boy!

I can see that his uncommon intellectual ability is going to cause problems though.  Saturday, he discovered my shoes.  As I was putting my make up on he began to carry my shoes, one at a time, and throw them into the bathtub.  I quickly shut the shoes up, but left out a slipper that he had grown especially fond of.

I'm not joking about the slipper.

It is black and very fuzzy.

He started carrying it around like a lovey

and giving it tight hugs.

He always remembers where he leaves it

and when he needs a little comfort he picks it

up and rubs it on his face.

True story.

Last night, he was in the bathroom with me again. He threw something in to the tub and wanted to get it back out.  My rule is that if he throws it in there, I don't give it back to him, so I just let it stay in there.  He stood at the side of the tub for a while, tried stretching his arms, stood on the tip-toes of one foot and strained for it.  He was far from reaching it, so do you know what he did?!  He found another slipper in the bathroom, next to the tub, and very purposefully stood on top of it, as if he knew that standing on something else would make him taller and more able to reach in the tub! Oh dear.  I think we'll have a climber on our hands!  

Jack is also making jokes, and loves to find things that make Andy and I laugh.

He plays well with others and doesn't mind hanging out with other adults. 

All in all, he is totally charming, ever delightful and such a joy. 

He is also extremely heavy.

25 pounds.

My right bicep is huge.

  So huge in fact that I flexed for Andy

 and he said, "holy cow!"

 Yes, I am proud of that.

Cheers to Jack!  A wonder among babies!