The E Family in Sin City

An interesting conversation, and baby talk answers.

2011-11-16T00:44:00.001-08:00

Last week J brought a book home from school that led to a very interesting conversation around our dinner table. The book was about Ronald McNair, one of the astronauts who died in the Challenger tragedy. McNair was African-American, and I became acquainted with his name when I was an undergraduate taking part in a science and math program that was started in his honor. The book J brought home was about McNair as a little boy in the early 1960s, and it recounted a true incident involving his not being allowed to have a library card because of his race.

J could not understand why little Ron was not allowed to have a library card. As we tried to explain the historical context in a way he could grasp, it dawned on us that J doesn't really understand racism because he doesn't really have a concept of race. Which was MIND BLOWING. It's hard to explain. TH and I don't feel like our lives are defined by race, but we certainly consider it a huge part of our identity. We have both experienced first hand both blatant and insidious racism. I'm not sure when I became aware of my race. Meaning, I've understood that I am a black person literally as long as I can remember. I don't remember my parents ever sitting me down and explaining it, or making a huge deal out of it, or focusing on it so much that it became a burden. But I've always identified that way.

J, however, knows that his skin is light brown. He knows that other people have skin that is "pink" or that have "yellow" hair. He has told me that there some of his friends speak Spanish. He has mentioned that his hair is "harder" than his friends. But TH and I realized last week that he's never categorized himself as being a part of a larger group. I'm not even sure if he's noticed that everyone in our family is the same race. Honestly, it brings up mixed emotions for me.

I think our children are going to be the first truly "post-racial" generation. They are the first group of kids exposed to people of all races in the media, in positions of power, and on the playground. They won't think anything of interracial families. They'll have proof in their own memories that the president isn't always a white male. They're post-Obama in a way that we will never be. It's fantastic.

But it also gives me pause. I don't want my children to be defined by their race. But I do want them to identify with it in some ways. I want them to have some knowledge and understanding of what the struggle was before them. When I tried to frame the idea of "minority" for J, I told him how I was the only black person in my entire vet school class. For that matter, I was one of only 2 black people (out of about 500) in my entire vet school for the four years that I went there. I want him to grasp that, in some small way. The fact that doors are wide open for him and his brother that were just ajar a little bit for our generation. I don't want to burden him with it, but I don't want him to ignore it, either. I cringe when I hear people trying to sound post-racial say, "I don't even see skin color." I find that so ridiculous. I want you to see my skin color. It's beautiful. It has a history. It's not better than anyone else's, and don't judge me because of it...but definitely see it.

So I'm glad J read this book. I'm glad that he thought about the story and proclaimed that it was unfair, and that anyone should be able to get a library card so they can read.

I'm glad that he looked at my hand next to his and said, "Your skin is the same color as mine."

* * *

Baby Talk answers (Maria, you're good!)

1. "Nonnie" = Manny. (How he refers to himself.)

2. "Coodie" = Car. I cannot explain this one.

3. "Pin-pin" = Cushion. We play a game J calls "Cushions" where we pull the cushions off the couch and the boys jump on them. After much crying one day we finally figured out why he was pointing at the couch asking to play pin-pin.

4. "Fuffins" = muffins.

5. "Kennies" = candy. Thanks, Halloween.

6. "Teen tine" = screen time. This refers to computer time only, TV is just...TV."

7. "Note neal" = oatmeal.

8. "Spa-doh"= spider. Again, thanks to Halloween decorations and his evil older brother for introducing him to that concept.

Baby talk

2011-11-08T23:15:00.001-08:00

*Disclaimer: This is a shameless rip-off of something LauraC did a few years ago when her boys were toddlers.

Over the past year, one of our biggest concerns (our only concern really) about Jr. has been his language skills. Or lack thereof, I guess. He has always made alot of noise, babbling and yelling and mimicking sounds. But it's only been recently, right around when he turned two, that he has said words we can actually understand. Mommy. Daddy. J. Kitty and doggy. Shoes, hat, socks. Juice, milk, water, cheese, pancakes, food, EAT! Outside, slide, plane, sky.

There are, however, many words that he says on a regular basis that have taken much gesturing and frustration for us to decipher. Words I actually wrote down for the babysitter so she wouldn't spend the whole day having no clue what he wants. So here's a little game: can you figure out what these words mean? Some of them are seriously random but he says all of these almost every day. I've put some context in parenthese to be helpful :)

1. "Nonnie" (That's Nonnie!)

2. "Coodie" (We play coodie?)

3. "Pin-pins" (We play pin-pins?)

4. "Fuffins" (Have fuffins, please?)

5. "Kennies" (I have kennies?)

6. "Teen tine" (Want teen tine.)

7. "Note-neal" (Note-neal please?)

8. "Spa-doh" (Noooo! Spa-doh!!)

It's always funny later...

2011-11-02T00:49:00.001-07:00

It seems like all of the really random, stupid, ridiculous adventures happen when the kids are with me. I don't know why. Locked out of the house, car battery dies while we're at Sonic happy hour in 90 degree weather, drive halfway to the store with the diaper bag on top of the car, get all the way through the line at Walmart (and we all know the line is the worst effing part at Walmart) and discover I left my wallet at home. Etc etc and so on and so forth.

So yesterday, like everyday, Jr. and I went to pick J up from school. The school doesn't really have an efficient pick-up/drop-off routine, especially for the kindergarteners who must actually be picked up by someone over age 10 and the teacher has to visually see that person before letting them out of the line. The kindergarten classes let out around the side of the building instead of the front, and I guess there's no buses for kindergarten. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it...I've never seen a school bus at this school. Huh. I guess it's a true neighborhood school, everyone in walking distance? So anyway, although it's nice for safety, having to actually get out of the car and make visual contact with the teacher at pick-up means we have to park somewhere and get out and walk to the classroom. Because of this system, parking becomes a premium when school lets out at 3:15. If you're not there to score a space in front of the school by 3:05, you're looking at parking in the neighborhood, sometimes 2-3 blocks away. If you're like me, with a younger sibling in tow, that means pushing a stroller or trudging through inclement weather with a 2 year old. Not fun.

(There is a point to this). Yesterday, even though I didn't get to the school until around 3:10, I happened upon a car pulling away from the curb really close to the crosswalk out front right as I came by. Score! I parallelled, picked up J, talked to the teacher for a few minutes, and started loading the kids into the car. J got in, buckled up, no problem. I went to put Jr. in the his car seat, which is on the passenger side by the curb, and he decided to pull the old "you'll have to fold me in half like origami to get me into the carseat" routine. In the process, he kicked and knocked my car keys out of my hand. I looked down at the floor -- no keys. I looked out at the ground, expecting the keys to be in the gutter next to the car. And that's when I saw the keys sliding down into the storm drain we were parked next to. Not a regular gutter. A storm drain. MY KEYS WENT INTO THE STORM DRAIN. Meaning I couldn't start the car. Or drive home. Or get into the house if we decided to walk home.

It was a classic "That did NOT just happen" moment. I finished strapping Jr. into the car, ignoring J repeating incessantly "What happened? What just happened? Why are you looking at the ground like that? What are you looking at? What happened?" I tried to kneel down in the space between the car and the gutter (I mean storm drain) and realized this was a very deep storm drain. As in, I couldn't see the bottom, but I could see rungs of a ladder going down the side from under a manhole. Crap.

Hey wait, manhole! If there's a manhole, then maybe...who do you call in this situation? Who can open a manhole? The manhole had "City of Aurora" stamped on it, and luckily it was the keys and not the smart phone that fell into the storm drain. Thanks to Google, three phone call transfers later I was in touch with the Aurora Storm Drain Office (who knew?), and they said they'd send someone out to help me when they could. 45 minutes later -- 45 loooong minutes of trying to occupy the kids in the car with no radio, no heat, no buttons to push and too cold outside to take them onto the school playground while we waited -- a very nice man named Ralph showed up. He popped the manhole cover, climbed down into the storm drain, and immediately found the keys amongst the leaves and debris at the bottom, telling me, "You're very lucky there wasn't any water flowing down there today ma'am, otherwise your keys would have been on their way to the reservoir."

In less than 5 minutes my keys were back in hand, and when I asked him how much I'd be charged for this little escapade, he told me the only payment he needed was the look of relief on my face when he came up with those keys. Chivalry isn't dead, after all. I most certainly will be singing Ralph's praises to his boss tomorrow.

When we got home I pretty much knocked the kids over to get to their Halloween buckets. If ever there was a need for a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup at the end of the day...

Just like I remembered

2011-10-27T04:03:00.000-07:00

You know how when you're growing up, you have certain memories of how a certain place is or the way certain things happen? I've always told people two things about the Colorado weather:

1) It never snows on Christmas. It always snows around Halloween.
2) There is no predicting it. It could be 80 degrees one day, 20 degrees the next.

These 2 facts are pretty irrefutable amongst Colorado natives. The last week has once again borne this out.

Pictures taken on Monday 10/24. Temperature: 79 degrees

Note the shorts & t-shirt on J. Also note how he still looks like a lollipop from a distance, all big round head and stick legs.

Picture taken on Wednesday 10/26. Temperature: 32 degrees

Expected temperature this weekend: 61 degrees.

O Colorado, I missed you :)

Deep thoughts...

2011-10-19T00:30:00.000-07:00

There's so much going on these days. Alot to wrap my mind around, not enough hours in the day, etc etc. I've been starting and stopping multiple blog posts over the past few weeks, and I can't seem to form a coherent thought. At least one that's more than half a paragraph. I have been pondering alot of things, though:

Where can I find jeans that fit? Not jeans in my size, but jeans that fit? It's ridiculous looking for jeans when you're "curvy." I'm in the "plus" category but I have a true hourglass figure; my waist is 10 inches smaller than my hips. But every pair of jeans I get at the curvy-girl store seems to be built for someone shaped like a cylinder. Thus I get the dreaded gap in the waistband in back and unintentional plumber butt when I bend down.

When we go to pick up J from school, why does Jr. always wait until we're in the crosswalk on the way back to the car to throw a random fit? He waits until I've got a kid in each hand and backpack/lunch box/jacket/hat to keep track of, and as soon as we're at the exact halfway point with the crossing guard holding up a line of cars he will invariably fall to the ground and start flopping like a fish. If I'm wearing crappy jeans so my crack can show while I try to wrestle him the rest of the way, even better.

Am I lame because I really love the song "Party Rock Anthem?" I want to hate it, but I heart it so bad. I cannot not groove to that song in the car. The kids are hooked, too. "STOP - hatin' is bad." Yes!! My motto.

I don't like corn mazes. They sound like so much fun on paper. We went to a gigantic one last weekend, and I succeeded in convincing J that it was the best thing since sliced bread but.....no. I wanted to run up out of there within about 5 minutes. It is just too creepy. Hasn't anyone seen "Jeepers Creepers"???

After almost 3 months, it finally occurred to me that one reason why I might be feeling so out of shape on my runs is the altitude. Even though we were gone for 7 years, I guess since I was born and raised in Denver I thought I was somehow genetically unable to suffer altitude sickness. I was wrong. It really is different in the thin air.

And finally....I just finished reading the Hunger Games trilogy. The third book....WTF???? Was that not the strangest? It was like there was a completel different author. Seriously, I'm done with these YA series and going back to grown-up books. This is why I need a book club...

Two.

2011-09-29T03:04:00.000-07:00

Two years with you
flown by like time always does
you're much muchier, even more than last year
so many new things
over a hundred words
we waited and worried and waited for those words and then suddenly
the floodgates opened and you haven't stopped talking
10 numbers and 26 letters, usually in the right order
colors, vehicles, places, things, animals
speaking of animals
thanks to you everyone calls Yoda the cat "Dodo-cat"
(I don't think he appreciates that much)

so many other things happened this year
4 molars
several haircuts, all pretty much against your will
one little increase in clothing size and a whole 2lbs gained
still a little guy but yet the most active person in the house
jumping climbing sliding pushing tumbling
a spill down the stairs, then another, "childproof" gates be damned
paints and crayons and markers and puzzles and tearing up paper
everything (everything!) is fun, but
for you nothing compares to music, our musiqsoulchild
playing on the piano and drums and guitar
always singing
and dancing
and dancing
and dancing, it's like Flashdance up in here you never stop dancing
recognizing the lyrics to songs on the radio
you now have favorite songs with your big brother
your idol, your mate, your favorite person on earth
(except for Mommy, but I know that won't last much longer)
let's not forget tantrums and getting mad and saying "No!" and "mine!"
and laughing while you put things together and take
many many many things apart (so many things)
and recognizing words in your books
you love the books just like J
now you have your own favorite TV shows
Bubble Guppies, Scooby Doo, Diego, Sesame Street

it's been a crazy year, you and J are
seasoned travelers, planes, trains, and automobiles
so many road trips this year
not to mention the big move to Colorado
but still in the same crib
still a snuggler in the morning
still a rocking chair at bedtime
still the occasional warm milk bottle (it's our secret)
still about 7.87394% a baby
that percentage is shrinking
and now you're becoming the most spirited
most awesome
most fun
most ALIVE
little boy.

You're still my heart.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Manny!

Well, it made me feel better.

2011-09-28T00:44:00.000-07:00

For the most part, we're loving 5. It's an adventure every day. J says the funniest things, makes up the most imaginative stories, is so enthusastic about life and everything in general.

And yet.

He's also had some of the biggest meltdowns and tantrums of his ENTIRE LIFE. Epic. Monster. Effing ridiculous. Over some really silly things.

And the sass and smart mouth and occasional forays into disrespect? Don't even get me started. It's a battle of wills over here and I'm not always the one winning.

As he approaches 2, Jr. has also started in with the epic, monster, effing ridiculous tantrums. Although I expected it from him.

So my aunt has been coming over to help us care for Jr. while we figure out a new daycare situation. She just became an empty-nester as her youngest of 3 kids started college last month. We were chatting the other night about the boys and how things are going with school, the move, the daycare drama, etc. I was telling her how challenging both kids have been sometimes lately, and she said, "Well, with all three of my kids, 2 and 5 was the worst."

I was really surprised by this. No one told me that 5 was one of Those Ages. 2 and 3, I knew would be bad. 5 has honestly snuck up on me. But fear not, fellow parents of 5 year olds. According to my aunt, after 5, it's smooth sailing.

Until 13. But she didn't want to talk about that.

Random musings after volunteering in the kindergarten classroom

2011-09-16T22:38:00.000-07:00

On Back to School Night I signed up to be a classroom volunteer in J's kindergarten class. Since I'm home during the day I figured this would be a good way to get involved. (I did not, however, consider how unbelievably dumb I was to sign up to be a class mom on days after I work. Get off at 8am, go to sleep by 8:30, wake up 3.5 HOURS LATER to get to the class by 12:30pm. Like I said, dumb.)

Wednesday was my first afternoon in the class. It was very eye-opening, a little sociology study right in front of me. I know these are generalizations and even stereotypes but I made a few interesting observations:

Boys are waaaaay more fidgety than girls. Something I suspected but only having boys I wasn't sure. My mother has told me this many times after visiting with my kids, that my sisters and I did not jump/run/move around as much as my kids. It was interesting to watch all the kids sitting on a circular rug together in the middle of the room, you could really see how the girls were sitting "criss-cross applesauce" as instructed, talking and giggling but not moving around much; while the boys wiggled, rolled around, pushed/poked each other, kept getting up & down, etc. It was distracting. J was no better than the rest, at one point he must have forgotten I was there because he started crawling around under the chairs.

Girls have waaaaay better handwriting than boys. Across the board. Again I suspected this but as we worked on writing exercises it was astounding just how much better the girls' letters/words were. Straight lines. Even spacing. Cute little curlicues or "tails" on some letters. The boys handwriting was.....yeah. Illegible? Chicken scratch? What's the PC word here? Not being an educator of small children, I don't know if it's the difference in motor school development, a difference in attention span (see above), or some Y-chromosome thing I wasn't aware of. Either way, it was noticeable.

Boys cry just as much as girls. Maybe more. Actually I think I saved this little factoid to share with my husband more than anyone else. For future arguments.

When allowed to pick their own "center" activity, the kids drifted into gender-specific play seemingly subconsciously. All of the girls, ALL of them, headed toward the play house/kitchen/babies area. None of them opted to use the adding magnets, geometric puzzles, or cars. Most of the boys immediately chose cars or airplanes or other vehicles to play with. A few (including J) went for the science/math type stuff. But none of the girls. That made me a little sad.

Girls have way more fashion and clothes choices than boys. I didn't realize how much I've been missing out on with 2 sons. Glitter/sparkles. Skirts. Skorts. Dresses. Leggings under skirts/skorts/dresses. Costume jewelry. Bows and headbands and barettes. Braids. Mary Janes. Floral print, lace, and ruffles. Pink and purple in general. Rainbow stripes and heart motifs.

Well, on second thought...I'm glad to be missing out on pink and purple.

Other random thoughts on my Volunteer Day:

The teacher is a ROCK STAR. There are too many kids. A few of them have learning/developmental disabilities but are mainstreaming (which I really like). Some of them cry alot. Some (like my little shnookums) are, uh, very active. Some are just...the opposite of well-behaved. Some (J) can read the newspaper while others have obviously and sadly never been exposed to reading/writing of any kind until now. And she handles them all beautifully, with that perfect kindergarten teacher authoritative-but-still-really-nice voice. "We don't do that." "Let's work on sharing and being polite." "My para-professional will now take over while I sip a vodka & Red Bull in the closet." (JUST KIDDING. Maybe.)

While I was there they had a special Spirit Day or something where the kids from the local high school came over in their school colors, with the marching band and cheerleaders and football players in jerseys (maybe it was homecoming?), and the little kids stood outside while they had a kind of mini parade. It was weird, disconcerting. The high school kids looked huge yet impossibly young, and it suddenly didn't seem that far away for J and Jr. I had that sense that the next 12 years are going to FLY by. I wished kindergarten could last forever.

Another teacher stopped by with a birthday gift for J's teacher, whose birthday was the Sunday before. As in, September 11. Unthinkingly, I was all, "Your birthday is on 9/11? That must be weird." She just looked at me. I lost my gold star for that day.

So far, this school district and school have been impressive. I don't know if we could have done better with private school or a charter. J is doing well. He likes his teacher and she's been able to give him what he needs academically. The building is not new but the classrooms are beautiful and they seem to have decent resources. The class is very diverse without trying to be very diverse. The school feels safe and happy and modern in its thinking but traditional enough that it's not really that different from when I was in kindergarten 30 years ago. Which is a good thing. J has friends. He's happy.

I am 100% most definitely in the right profession, dealing with wild animals all day instead of wild children. One word: leashes.

The unintentional joke

2011-09-07T20:18:00.000-07:00

J finds ways to make me laugh on a regular basis. Unintentionally.

From yesterday:

Me: So what do you guys do at recess?

J: We play the chase game!

Me: What's the chase game?

J: The girls chase all the boys and we have to run from them.

Me: Why don't the boys chase the girls?

J: (rolling eyes) BECAUSE WE DON'T LIKE THE GIRLS. I told you that before!

Me: Do the girls catch you?

J: No my new shoes make me run really fast. Like a thousand miles. Some boys get caught though.

Me: What happens when you get caught?

J: If the girls catch you, then you're their prisoner and you have to play for the other team.

Me: (snickering) You have to play for the other team?

J: Yes! And I don't want to get caught, because Mommy, I don't want to play for the other team.

Me: That's good to know, sweetie.

On the night shift...

2011-08-31T03:44:00.000-07:00

Working the night shift is turning out to be...interesting. The hours in some ways are fantastic, and in other ways the hours are really hard. A typical shift for me is 8pm to 8am, 3 to 4 nights a week. It doesn't seem like it could work with small children, but it actually affords me more quality time with them than I've ever had before. On the plus side:

I don't have to leave the house until a little after 7pm and I don't leave work until after 8am, so I completely avoid rush hour traffic. The clinic is actually across town, much further away than TH's job downtown, but his commute takes almost twice as much time as mine due to traffic.

Because I don't have to leave the house until a little after 7pm, so I can spend a good amount of time with the family before heading out. We're able to eat dinner together almost every day, and I can even help TH get the bedtime routine started before I leave. Sadly when I worked the regular day shift there were many (way too many) nights where I came home after the kids were already in bed.

I can pick J up from school every day at 3:15, and 3 days a week I'm also the one dropping him off. This is huge. For the kids it's almost like I'm a stay at home mom, the majority of my time away from them is while they're sleeping. I can even make it to after school activities or soccer practice and still not be late to work. I might even be a classroom volunteer this year if I can find a way to squeeze it in.

I get 3 days a week of one-on-one time with Jr. while J is at school. When we were in Vegas, he went to daycare 4-5 days a week, all day. Now he only has to go twice a week on the days when I need to sleep after a shift, and he's picked up by 4pm at the latest.

My schedule is split up, so I don't have more than 2 consecutive nights on duty. Actually the schedule is self is pretty darn good, 3 nights one week, 4 weeks the next. I really can't complain.

It's not all sunshine and roses, though. There are some negatives, which I'm trying to get used to.

Although the schedule is great for the kids and for the family overall, it's not so great to spend 3-4 nights a week away from TH. It's downright weird.

On the weekdays when I work, TH typically doesn't get home from his hellish commute until around 6:15, and I'm out the door at 7ish. Then we don't see each other again until the next evening. The 45 minutes or so that we're "together" is mostly spent in a rush of eating dinner and handing off the kids. It feels like a shift change....which I guess it kind of is.

The night shift at a small veterinary ER is very...lonely. There's one doctor (me) and one technician. That's it, all night. When it's busy, it doesn't matter. When it's slow, it's just me and the tech, who I don't know very well, hanging out reading and killing time. I wish I could call my sisters or friends, but being the middle of the night, they're all sleeping of course.

The schedule overall is kind of lonely. I'm going to work when everyone else is coming home or going out to have fun. When I'm on my way home, everyone else is headed off to work. The 2 days a week when TH takes the kids to school/daycare before I get off of work, I come home to an empty house. Don't get me wrong, it's kind of peaceful and I need to sleep, but I do miss having someone there to run up to me and give me a big hug, or to talk to about my day. These "vampire hours" are still strange to me.

Because I always have at least one weekend shift, I feel like my social life is suffering. I'm either at work or trying to sleep. When I have weekend nights off, I want to spend that time with TH, leaving precious little time for me to hang out with my sisters or other people.

I think we're getting used to it. The job itself is proving to be very challenging, which is a good thing. I definitely don't feel burned out anymore - my doctor muscles are being flexed every night and some of the work is exhilarating. Working on emergency is its own strange environment, you see all the extremes. People are either really grateful for your help, or irate and cursing you out because you can't work miracles or they don't have the finances to take care of their seriously ill pet. There's lot of blood and guts and running around and doing CPR and surgery at 2am. But then there's also long stretches of dead time where the only break in the monotony of waiting for a case is a random drunk guy banging on the front door wanting to use the bathroom. The night shift has its own subculture with drunk or stoned people, local cops who stop by regularly to chat and make sure we're ok, and strange late-night radio shows that I was never aware of before. Even the cases have a night-time quality to the them - I can't tell you how many animals I've seen in just 2 weeks that have somehow ingested their owner's recreational drugs. I see alot more death at night than I ever did as a day vet, because the animals are so sick/injured or sadly because of money. I'm becoming hardened to it and more stressed by it at the same time.

It's different. It's better in many ways, but it's a new dynamic. So far...I think I like it.

The Ides of August

2011-08-23T21:54:00.001-07:00

August 2006

August 2011

He's not a baby anymore. But he'll always be my baby.

I'm baaaaack....

2011-08-17T22:03:00.000-07:00

Well. I'm not even going to try to go into any type of detail about the last 8 weeks. In a nutshell:

At the end of June, TH got a job offer that was too good to refuse...in Denver. They wanted him to start working 5 weeks later, on August 1. In Denver.

So we packed up our stuff, quit our respective jobs, used up some (ahem, maybe more than some) of our savings, and moved back to Colorado.

FINALLY.

So much happened in July, you guys. A crazy epic drunken nightclub adventure in Vegas the likes of which we somehow never had in seven years of living there.

Awesome.

Wanting to kill each other during the moving process and threatening each other with divorce.

Not as awesome.

Getting our Vegas house ready for rental and then saying a prayer and driving away from our little home. Renting it out within 2 days of listing. *fist pump*

Preparing the kids for The Big Move and then when The Big Day came realizing that in the flurry of activity I kind of forgot that The Big Move was also a Road Trip With Kids. TH drove the moving van towing one of our cars, and I drove the other family car with the kids and the cats and some of our stuff. Thank GOD my sister took pity on me and flew out to help me with the drive. Let's just say I didn't really prepare for the road trip the way I usually do. There was an emergency "I forgot to pack enough wipes" stop. Then another stop to pick up RedBox DVD's because I brought the portable DVD player but no discs. And let's not forget the "one of the cats peed in the carrier and now the car smells horrid" stop. But we made it.

Then we had all the unpacking, and figuring out our new neighborhood, and all the EXTREME deja vu being back in the Mile High City. TH and I spent part of one afternoon just driving around to our old haunts (we're high school sweethearts) and reminiscing. Our high school. The houses we grew up in. Places where we went on dates. This is the strangest part about being back in Denver. We've never been "grown-ups" here. Vegas is where we really grew up in a sense - it's the only place I've ever practiced medicine, the place where we became parents, where we bought our first house, where I became a sorta kinda runner, where we spent 7 of our 9 married years. We left behind alot of good friends and great memories in Sin City. We never grew to love Las Vegas and never felt comfortable raising the kids there, but it would be a lie to say it wasn't bittersweet saying goodbye to the life we'd built there.

However...

We are so happy to be back in Colorado. The quality of life here is unbelievably better for our family. We've been here for 3 weeks and already we've taken the kids hiking, visited the mountains, spent time with the cousins, and squeezed in a date night with my sister watching the kids -- the FIRST TIME since we became parents that we've had a free babysitter! Craziness. I've gone running several times. We've gotten J registered for school. The kids have discovered the joy of running through a grass yard in the summer as opposed to the rocky desert landscaping they were accustomed to. While I was unemployed I spent so much precious time with my kids. This has been one of the best summers ever, despite all the stress and the fact that we're kinda broke.

So.

Right now, it's almost midnight, and I'm up writing this blog post because I'm at my new job. I am now officially an Emergency Vet, which is kind of a big change. I'm loving it so far. The hours are weirdly compatible with my desire to spend more time with my husband and kids. The medicine is pretty cool. The bosses are great so far. After almost a year of feeling adrift in my career after being laid off, I finally feel like I might be where I belong.

And now....I can exhale.

At least I know I'm wanted.

2011-06-20T21:11:00.000-07:00

One of the best things about having 2 kids is watching them develop a relationship with each other. As Jr. has gotten older, I've really enjoyed seeing him and J turn into true brothers. They play together, making up games (well, J does the making up while Jr. just follows whatever he's doing), running around the house and hiding and jumping and playing under blankets and sitting together watching TV. Jr. mimics J's every move, skipping over the babyish stacking rings and blocks in favor of playing Hot Wheels and Transformers with J. They sit together in the sandbox, building roads and mountains for their construction trucks, an activity that invariable ends with J running inside to tattle on Jr. for eating sand. He's a good big brother that way. They lay in J's bed together "reading" books, an activity that invariably ends with Jr. getting bored and starting to jump on the bed, making J laugh while he tries to keep reading. He's a good little brother that way.

Like all siblings, they also have plenty of things to fight about. Not a day goes by without pushing and shoving and tug of wars and tears about who gets to do what. Jr. has learned to stand up for himself, holding on when J attempts to just snatch a toy away, pushing back when J pushes him down, running away when he feels like J is getting too close to whatever he has. It used to be that if the baby was crying, we could assume that J had done something mean to him. Now, if there are tears it could just as easily be Jr. who's the culprit in the fight as much as his older brother. I'm always playing referee, keeping up a constant litany :
"Don't take that from him."
"Give it back to him, he had it first."
"If I see you push him again you're going upstairs in your room UNTIL TOMORROW!"
"Do not put your hands or feet on your brother!"
"Why is he crying? What did you do?"
"Stop all that crying, he didn't do anything to you."
"You weren't even thinking about that book/toy/food/pet until you saw him with it."
"Would it kill you to share with him ONE TIME??"
And at some point, "I've just about had it with you two, everyone's about to be sitting in a corner."

But you know what they love to fight about the most? The one thing that causes more tears and pushing and shoving and pouting and whining than anything else?

Me.

J is usually pretty accomodating to his little brother, but if he sees me carrying Jr., or singing to him, or playing a game with him, or making funny faces, he'll literally elbow his way in between us, shouting, "Do that with me, too, Mommy! Do that with me!" and if I don't move fast enough it's only a matter of seconds before he's pouting, telling me "You never sing to me!" If I'm swinging Jr. around by his arms, as soon as I put him down J will jump onto me or pull on my arms and try to swing himself, looking hurt if I tell him that he's too big for that game. The silliest things are causes for jealousy - if I wrap Jr.'s blanket around his head like a head scarf and tell him he's "my little gypsy baby" here comes J with a random towel or blanket, begging me to make him a gypsy blanket hat, too.

Jr. is just as bad. If I'm sitting on the couch with J's head in my lap while we watch TV, Jr. will climb over his brother and push his head away so that he can have my lap. If I'm holding Jr. and J comes up for a hug, Jr. kicks at J and shouts "NO!!". He's been known to push his way in between me and J, or pull on J's waist or legs if he's too close to me. I can't lay in the bed with both of them because inevitably a fight will break out over who's laying closest to me, and if I try to split the difference and lay in the middle someone always snakes their arm or leg over me to aggravate the other. When we go to restaurants, I have to listen to endless whining from J about sitting on the same side of the booth as me. There have been times when I've had to untangle myself from the two of them as they literally clutch at me, inadvertently (or maybe purposely?) pulling my hair or wrenching my arm or straining my neck.

The funny thing is, I know they won't really grow out of this. There will always be jockeying for Mommy's attention. My sisters and I are all in our 30's and we still have moments of friction when we're all in town together with my mom and we have to ration out who she spends time with. If she spends the night at my sister's house, she has to promise to spend the next afternoon with my kids. If she goes to dinner with my younger sister, my twin sister and I are guaranteed to be secretly mad if she doesn't have breakfast or lunch with us. Shameful, but true.

Some days, I really hate feeling pulled in every direction, and I want to run away from the neediness. Other days, well...at least I know somebody wants me.

A little help here.

2011-06-10T13:35:00.000-07:00

I need a little help.

Ok. Let's be honest. I need ALOT of help.

Getting organized, getting rid of clutter, streamlining things, keeping track of stuff, ending our packrat ways...however you want to phrase it, that's what we need. Ok we're not really "packrats" in the strongest sense of the word, but some days it feels that way. Papers, papers everywhere. Clothes always living in the laundry basket. Kids' toys that somehow work themselves out of the toy boxes and into every nook and cranny of my house -- as I'm typing this I can look around and see a Hot Wheels car on the kitchen table, 2 DVD cases (likely without the DVD's inside of them if I know J) on the floor next to the TV cabinet, various Mega Blocks peeking out from under the couch, a large bouncing ball that's supposed to stay in the yard chillaxin' inside next to the patio doors, broken sidewalk chalks also right inside the patio door, some kind of Fisher Price junk (I know it's FP by the distinctive yellow/purple/blue color scheme) peeking out from under the couch, refrigerator letter magnets in the corner of the bathroom, random preschool artwork on the counters....

I know the problem areas, and I try to stay on top of them, but I feel like this is a real losing battle. For about 6 months last year we had a cleaning service come in every other week, mostly to deal with the floors (curse you, wall-to-wall ceramic tile!!) and the bathrooms. It was HEAVEN. But then...well, then I lost my job so we had to do away with that. It doesn't help that TH has a *teeny tiny* hoarder-type personality and is loathe to throw things away.

Here's where I need your help. How do I get organized? What do you guys do with all the papers, the toys, the clothes, the clutter? How do people have neat, tidy, organized houses when they work full time and have 2 small yet very active children? Are you just cleaning/organizing ALL THE TIME? Please tell me that's not the secret.

Here's the rundown of my most problematic problems:

No family room or separate living/formal area. This was the #1 mistake we made when we bought this house, buying into the whole "open floor plan" schtick. Never again. I hate hate hate that when you come in the front door you can look straight through into the kitchen and see if there are dirty dishes in the sink. Or toys everywhere. I would love to keep all of the kid stuff sequestered upstairs in their rooms, but that's just not realistic. Maybe when they're both old enough to play unsupervised, but for now Jr. at least has to be where I am - if I'm downstairs making dinner or on the computer or, well, cleaning, he has to be down here with me and thus we can't keep the toys out of the "formal" living space. We've got a couple of bookshelves with baskets and 2 storage ottomans, yet things seem to be overflowing all the time.

The papers. Oy, the papers. There's 2 factors here. TH and I have been witness to a really horrifying case of identity theft in my immediate family involving someone lifting personal information from a discarded credit card statement. So now, I'll admit it, we're a little paranoid about what goes into the trash/recycling. Therefore there's always a stack of stuff "to go through" and a box of stuff waiting to be shredded. Always. We never seem to get to the bottom of that box! The other factor is that we try to recycle anything that's recyclable, so there's also always stuff needing to go into recycling, which is nice and green and everything but when I look at bundled up boxes and papers and plastic bottles by the door it just feels like a pile of trash to me and I hate looking at it.

Toys. Short of going on a Throwing Things Out rampage, I really need a better way to keep these toys from overtaking our house. And I'm not talking about big bulky toys - it's those godforsaken little pieces that seem to be everywhere. There's only so many "storage solution" bins and containers and baskets you can have in a room before the boxes themselves start to look like clutter.

I really do need help. I'm embarassed to have people come to my house - I know it's not really that bad, but before I got married and had kids I was used to a much neater house. I know I shouldn't spend so much time worrying about a messy house but I'm one of those people who actually gets physically stressed when I feel like I'm surrounded by clutter and disorganization, and then when I don't have the time to really get it all done (or to get it done to my liking) I just get more stressed out.

Heeeeelllllllp meeeeeee......

5. So big...yet still so little.

2011-06-01T21:14:00.000-07:00

Driving to Denver last week for our yearly family vacation, we decided to leave Vegas at night, right after I got off of work. The plan was to drive the seven hours to Grand Junction (right across the Colorado state line), stop for the night, then push through the last 4 hours to Denver in the morning. Jr. cooperated with our little plan, pretty much sleeping the entire way. J declared that he wasn't going to sleep, that he was going to stay up and "drive with you guys," as if he was going to take a turn at the wheel at some point. Right before the trip we bought portable DVD players to hypnotize the kids for the trip, and stocked up on Scooby Doo DVD's. Scooby Doo is J's latest obsession. He has now seen just about every episode of old and new (and newer) Scooby Doo, from the cheesy 70's episodes with "guest stars" like Tim Conway to the more recent iterations that have plotlines about viral bad guys in the internet.

Anyhoo, J set himself up in the back seat with a stack of DVDs, juice boxes, raisins, several books, his blanket, and his pillow pet. Before setting out we'd decided to convert J's booster seat to backless since he's 5 now and getting taller by the minute. But when he got in the car, he kept fidgeting, pulling on the seat belt, leaning forward, whining about being uncomfortable. Finally he tapped me on the shoulder.

"I don't like this seat," he said.

"But it's a big kid seat now, remember?" said TH.

"I just...I don't think this is very safe, Mommy." And he looked genuinely worried. So we put the seat back together. Not ready for the big boy seat yet, I guess.

As we made our way through the mountains, J was alternately awed by the experience of driving at night and scared by it. "I can see constellations! And planets!" he exclaimed at one point. "This is really scary and spooky," he said later. "I hope we don't ever have to stop our car out here."

Around 10pm, I glanced back and could see that J was pretty much zombified by the latest Scooby Doo adventure, his eyes glazed over and his head listing off to the side. Normally he's in bed by 8pm, but we'd decided to let him set his own schedule in the car. Why not? He's a big kid now. But realizing that he wouldn't stop watching unless we made him, I told him that it was time to turn off Scooby Doo. His face crumpled.

"But I'm staying up late with you guys!" he whined. "I'm NOT TIRED!!"

I reached back and flicked the DVD off, expecting him to start crying or throwing some kind of overtired fit. Instead he leaned over onto his pillow pet, and was dead asleep about 15 seconds later.

****

While we were in Denver, we treated J and his cousins to an afternoon showing of Kung Fu Panda 2. J has only been to the movie theater twice before, and both times I don't think he was quite ready for the big show. He whined, cried, covered his ears, fidgeted, tried to walk up and down the aisles, etc. But this time we were with his older cousins, who he is always desperate to fit in with. He was so excited by everything -- the entertainment complex with a fountain and yogurt shop and arcade, the little kid's meal boxes of popcorn and Icees, the sharing of Red Vines (which he's never had before. We don't keep candy in the house.) Prior to the trip he'd used part of his allowance to buy Superman sunglasses, which he insisted on wearing through much of the movie even though we kept telling him it wasn't 3D.

"Everything looks so different with my glasses," he said breathlessly. "It's all blue and yellow and everything."

About 45 minutes into the movie, he said, very loudly, "I think this should be the end of this movie!" and covered his ears. Then he almost folded himself up in the seat and after that refused to sit down. "Can we leave, please??" he whispered. Finally my mom had the idea to let him sit on the steps next to our row, where he calmed down until the end of the movie.

After the movie, his 11 year old cousin X had to go to the bathroom. "Take J with you," my mom told him. J and I both paused. He's never gone into a public bathroom without me or TH before. When we're out together, like most little boys he's used to going into the women's restroom. I could tell the thought of going into the bathroom "by himself" was making him nervous, but I knew there was no real reason why he couldn't go in with X watching over him. He is 5 now, after all. X went in, and J stood halfway in the door, looking back at me and then looking into the bathroom. "Come with me, Mommy," he pleaded. Finally he went in, and I stood right next to the door, listening for any indication of problems. At one point I must have been almost in the door because a man behind me cleared his throat as I was obviously in his way. Finally X and J came out, J literally skipping. "I used the bathroom!" he shouted, making sure everyone in a 10 foot vicinity could hear him. We started for the doors.

Suddenly J skidded to a stop. "Oh, no!" he cried. "I left my sunglasses in there!" We looked around for X, but he was engrossed in the arcade.

"You're going to have to go back for them by yourself," I told him. "I can't go in the men's bathroom."

"I can't!!" J said. He was genuinely nervous. When we got to the door, he again begged me to go in with him. Finally he ran into the door, and less than 30 seconds ran back out, breathing hard with his face flushed, like he'd just run through an obstacle course. "Next time we have to go in your bathroom," he told me, and then took my hand, something he usually fights me on these days.

Playlist

2011-05-14T10:06:00.000-07:00

This morning when I was out at 5:30am trying to get back on the running wagon after a very, um, sporadic running month (6 workouts total in one month), a new song that I just downloaded came on. I hadn't run to this one before -- "Pricetag" by Jessie J, a fairly new artist in America; apparently she's a big star in the UK. Anyway, I loved running to this song. So I repeated it. 4 times. When I finally went to the next song, over a mile had gone by. As usual, one of the keys to refreshing my running routine: NEW MUSIC.

I don't know how people run without music. I have tried to be cool and just hit the road without a soundtrack, and I can't do it. I need something to set my pace, something to give me that internal metronome. I guess if and when I become a more seasoned runner I'll be able to do this without music playing, but where's the fun in that? Mine is a very musical family, every activity requires music--"Cleaning Day" on Saturday ALWAYS means Earth Wind & Fire or Michael Jackson or Outkast playing in the background. I'm always in search of "perfect" running songs to add to my playlist - those songs with the exact right beats per minute, not so fast that I feel like I need to sprint in order to keep up, not so slow that I have to speed-walk instead of run. The genre isn't so important, although I tend to lean towards hip-hop, old school R&B, and rock.

I thought I'd share my recent faves, the songs that actually pump me up when I'm running, either because of the beat or the lyrics (it's cheesy, but during T.I.'s "Whatever You Like" it actually motivates me when he says "want that body, need that body." Of course I think he's talking about something other than losing weight.) My actual running playlist is about 30 songs, some of them selected for when I have to slow down and walk (big hills), and I haven't included those, just the songs that get me hyped. I have to warn you, some of the songs are a little profane ("Tangerine," very profane but an AWESOME beat). Remember, the point is to just keep running!

So what songs get YOU going? I'd really love to add to my playlist. I used playlist.com to make the list and share it, if anyone's interested in making their own playlist I'll be checking it out...

Five.

2011-04-30T23:34:00.001-07:00

Dear J,

I don't know why, but 5 feels like a pretty big number. Sure, it's small in the grand scheme of things, but there's just something about the phrase "5 year old" that feels like a huge milestone to me. You're 5. I've been a mom for 5 years. The best, most blessed 5 years of my life. Also the fastest, most bittersweet 5 years of my life.

I remember being 5. The clothes I wore, the house I lived in, my mom's hairstyle, the shows that came on TV, the holidays with my grandparents, the anticipation of kindergarten, even some of the friends I had. I think that's why 5 is huge, it's one of the first years that you'll really remember for the rest of your life. I think about that alot as I watch you go through all of your little daily adventures, that you'll remember these times. This city, this house, your school, your teachers, the places you like to go, the games you play, the pets we have. But you won't remember them the way I will.

What I'll remember is how this is the year when you really came into your own. You started to experience the world in a different way, with your own preferences and interests that don't have anything to do with OUR preferences and interests. We tried to get you excited about karate, and you said you'd rather take a hip hop dance class. You stopped being into Dora and Diego and became obsessed with Scooby-Doo. Old Scooby-Doo, the exact same episodes we used to watch as kids, which is its own bittersweet thing. You started telling jokes (in your own fashion), inventing games, and building things out of household items. You began to see yourself as a bigger kid, especially compared to your little brother, but you also really bonded with him this year. Will you remember when we went to Sea World for this birthday and when we were at the hotel you told me that Jr. wanted to sleep in the same bed as you "because he's my brother and he really loves me." Probably not, but I will. You started to have a concept of what I do every day, and what work is, and what money is for, and how to save it. You played soccer, and wrote your name, and memorized almost every single song on the "Michael Jackson Number Ones" CD, and memorized the Lord's Prayer, and started learning Chinese just because you were interested in it. You kept reading, and reading, and reading, graduating from picture books to Dr. Seuss to "Junior Novels" in pretty much the blink of an eye (your current obsession: a Junior Novel about the Titanic. You carry that book around everywhere, telling me things like "Now the Titanic on the bottom of the ocean, buried under the silt and sand.") You're turning into your mother's son, reading books at the table, in the bathroom, in bed, in the car, everywhere you go.

But, thankfully, you're still little in some ways. Instead of correcting to you, I secretly want you to keep referring to the killer whales at Sea World as the "okras" (orcas) because it's so cute. You still cover your ears on the "scary" parts of your beloved Scooby-Doo episodes and Monsters Inc, even though you've seen them a thousand times. You're fascinated by everything, still easily entertained, still perfectly content to play with cardboard boxes and blankets (although I know video games are right around the corner). You continue to be a super picky eater, but there's glimmers of a little foodie in there. Pizza, hamburgers, spaghetti, quesadillas, grilled cheese sandwiches, hot dogs? No, no, never, no, nope, absolutely not. Brussels sprouts, parmesan brown rice, chinese food, sushi? Favorites. You cried when Daddy went out of town last month because you said no one would know how to play cars with you while he was gone. You still have days when you want to be carried around, and I get a little pang every time I realize you're really too big for that now. When did that happen?

5 years ago, your dad and I were SO desperate to meet you! You were TEN DAYS overdue, and all we could think about was what you would look like, how you would be, what things would we teach you, how are life would change once you got here. And you know what? You are so so so so so much more than we could have possibly imagined.

Happy 5th Birthday.

Love, Mommy

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

2011-04-26T20:24:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I kept J home from preschool on my Friday off so me and the boys could spend a day together. I envisioned a lovely day going out to breakfast, dying Easter eggs, maybe a little shopping. I did not envision my 4.99 year old hurting my feelings.

The first part, breakfast, went well. We met up with a friend at our favorite pancake spot, talked over coffee, and managed to leave before Jr. completely embarassed me with his 18 month old antics in the restaurant. As we were driving away, I asked J if he enjoyed his breakfast.

"Yes," he said. Then he sighed. "I just keep getting fat."

?????? Sensing some kind of Parenting Teachable Moment, I proceeded cautiously.

"Um, did you just say you keep getting FAT? You're not fat, sweetie. Maybe you're just full because we had a big breakfast. Why do you think you're fat?"

"Well, maybe I'm not fat," he said, "but you are."

(What??? Did he just say I'm fat???)

"J," I said calmly, "I am NOT fat." Belatedly, I thought to add, "But even if I was, there wouldn't be anything wrong with that."

"Yes, you are fat," he said matter of factly.

"I'm really not fat, J." I said, trying not to sound defensive/hurt and failing miserably. "Why are you saying that, anyway? Do you even know what fat means?"

He thought for a minute. "It means...when your body is like...really wide."

Ouch. He knows what it means.

"J, who has been talking to you about being fat? Did somebody say something mean to you?" (About me? I thought but didn't say.)

"No," he said, again very matter-of-fact. "I just think you're fat."

"You don't think Mommy is pretty?" I asked, completely pathetic at this point, my ego being slowly crushed by my preschooler.

"Yes, you're pretty, Mommy. And fat."

Daaaaaang. Where the heck is this coming from?

"J, it's okay to be fat. But it's not nice to call people fat. It hurts their feelings. And for the record...I'm not fat." He looked confused, rightfully so. It's confusing. Why is it not nice to call people fat, when it's "okay" to be fat? Why do I care if my kid calls me fat, if I'm supposedly fine with myself however I am? For that matter, why does he even know about the concept of "fat?"

The more I thought about it, the more I wasn't sure exactly how to frame my response. On the one hand, I want J to understand that people come in all shapes and sizes, and there's nothing wrong with being heavier. I don't want him to be one of those kids who picks on the fat kid at school because he's naturally really thin and doesn't understand that some people are naturally...not thin.

On the other hand, I want him to understand that it's not okay to call people fat, even if it's true. That's a bit harder. How do I say, "it's okay to be fat" and then turn around and say it's mean to call people fat? It doesn't make good sense, does it?

And finally, I can't help but be a little hurt when J calls me fat. Is he comparing me to other moms he's seen? To people on TV? To himself? Where did he get the notion that I'm "fat?" Did I give him that idea? My weight has been pretty much an ongoing struggle my entire adult life. I've finally, after 15 years, gotten back to a comfortable weight for me. I try not to let my own body image issues seep out in front of the kids, but I have to wonder, have I been saying things about being fat in front of them? Do I obsess about food and diet? Should I not get on the scale when they're in the room? TH and I do talk about working out and how we "need to get back on track" when we've fallen off the wagon of eating right and exercising. Are we unintentionally giving J the idea that being overweight is a "problem" that you have to "fix?" Somehow I stupidly thought that because I have boys I wouldn't really have to worry about this kind of thing.

Hmmmm.

I'm ashamed to admit that I basically just avoided the topic, turning up the radio and changing the subject to how we were going to decorate our eggs. I've had all sorts of interesting conversations with J about religion, death, love, stranger danger, inappropriate touching, money, all the heavy stuff. But when it came to talking about weight and being "fat," I guess J found my kryptonite. I reeeeeeeallllly don't want to have the conversation, because I really don't like hearing my kid call me fat. Plain and simple.

Hopefully he'll forget the whole topic for another few years.

I think it's Update Time...

2011-03-30T10:11:00.001-07:00

Whoa. That was a quick 5 weeks. I didn't forget my little blog, I just...couldn't...quite...get to it. Husband work kids exercise pets sleep stress Weight Watchers no weekends etc etc blah blah blah. So anyway. Jr. at 18 months - that phrase alone blows my mind. 18 months as of yesterday.

Jr. is....I believe the PC term is "spirited." Yeah, he's spirited. I feel like the whole idea of "babyproofing" came about because of kids like Jr. We have already had a number of near-misses and "incidents" involving the stairs, climbing on bookshelves and dressers, various increasing-in-complexity baby gates, the dishwasher, the front door, the toilet, cups of coffee, the cats, the clothes dryer (don't ask), the laptop I'm using right now...

He's still our Littleness. As of today he's a whopping 21 lbs, continuing on his 10th percentile growth curve. He still easily fits most of his 12 month sized clothing, although he's finally able to wear 18 month pants (rolled over at the top because of his tiny little waist.)

That said, Jr. is STRONG. Like he has a baby 6-pack strong. I've witnessed him many times using ab strength alone to pull himself onto something and it is impressive. He can throw a ball, he can jump, he runs VERY fast, he does somersaults. I can't even describe how much more active he is than J ever was. Not that J was inactive, but the contrast between the two is interesting. They are definitely different kids.

He continues to be a champion eater, despite his small size. He's at the point now where I can just pull him up to the table in his booster, put a plate in front of him, and 10 minutes later come back to an empty plate. I really hope he doesn't change in that regard because one super-picky eater is more than enough.

I've been worried about Jr.'s language development because he still doesn't really say any words other than "uh-oh" and "hi." And "cheese," that one he says very clearly. I talked to his ped this morning about it and he reassured me that Jr. is not at all behind and his language recognition skills are excellent, so at this point we don't even need an evaluation. But I'm sure I'll be worrying about it until he really does start talking.

He continues to torture us with night waking. We're pretty much making it up as we go along with this one because although J didn't STTN until 11 mths, once he did it he never looked back. Jr. still wakes at least once a night and needs to be rocked and get a bottle to go back down, a process which can take a REALLY long time depending on his mood. We've tried CIO with him, and he has defeated us. All that gets us is screaming-SCREAMING-for over an hour at a time. He's one of those kids who gets increasingly agitated instead of winding down if he's crying, one of the ones you read about that will actually vomit from screaming/crying if he's really upset. I'm sure we're creating a monster with the rocking but I just don't have the heart or energy to force the issue on this one.

Despite his, um, "spiritedness" Jr. is really a joy. He's a handful for sure, but he's so full of life. As they said in Alice in Wonderland, he's much...muchier.

Up to his usual antics, in the laundry.

Chowing down, as always.

Poofy Puffhead no more. It was getting out of control. First Haircut With Clippers, courtesy of Mommy.

aaaaaand....more antics.

J at (almost) 5 years.

J is also much....muchier, but in a different way. I'm not sure if you can describe a little kid as cerebral, but that is a good word for J. He's always thinking, always planning, always trying to find the "why" in a situation. He doesn't make decision lightly which is interesting for a 4.9 year old. If he doesn't want to do something, his reasons are somewhat adult - for instance, we were trying to get him interested in karate as an activity, and tried the old "your friend so-and-so is in it and he likes it." To which J replied, "Mommy, I don't have to like something just because somebody else likes something. We can be different." And then he went on to tell me that he didn't karate is a good activity "for a kid like me. I think I would like something like dance classes better because I'm always dancing." Um, okay. Duly noted. I've been searching for dance classes for him, but finding something for kids this age that's not geared towards little girls in tutus is proving challenging.

Reading. Old news, but it's still exciting for me. J is now reading chapter books without many pictures, which is a huge leap in terms of what will keep him interested. He reads in the car, in bed, outside, in the bathroom (he is a boy after all). I was trying to read 1-2 chapters a night at bedtime until he told me that was "too slow" and that he'd rather just read the book by himself. So now I read a chapter, and he's allowed to read by himself for awhile before turning off the light. He may look like his dad, but he's definitely my kid.

Still no word on kindergarten. The charter lottery is May 1 (coincidentally J's birthday. Also a Sunday which seems weird but that's the date.) I'd be lying if I said I'm not nervous about it. I know it's just kindergarten, but when your local school district is like ours, any chance to be in a quality program is important.

Speaking of birthdays, we've convinced J that instead of another big party, we should take a family trip to Sea World San Diego. We considered LegoLand but Jr. is just too small for that to be a fun experience. J was very excited about it, and then there was a little setback when he realized that no party means less presents (one of the reasons I want to get away from parties), and then he saw the Sea World commercial where the kid wears the swim goggles all day long so I bought him some swim goggles...that he wants to wear all day long. So he's all excited again.

4.9 is proving to be a great age, although it has its challenges. J can eat what we eat, he sleeps at night, he's 100% potty trained, he can occupy himself for long periods of time, he's an excellent conversationalist, he can stay up late at night and watch movies with us or the babysitter without huge ramifications the next day. But he also is becoming argumentative and smart alecky (like I said, he's my kid) and every day it seems like he gets in trouble for not listening or talking back or generally acting like he thinks he's an adult. Thank goodness the middle school years are still far away...

Guess who wants to be a vet...

Reading at the table

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

J "sings" The Lord's Prayer

34.360.28.5.20.FOURTEEN!!!

2011-02-22T06:00:00.000-08:00

34 today. The past year was by far the fastest of my entire life. Which is good in some ways because I think I've documented pretty well that it was also one of the most tumultous years of my life. There were some big numbers this year though:

I'm 34.
Since I started running again (around May) I have run 360 miles. My goal for this year is to do 750. Easy peasy.
I've lost 28 pounds since my birthday last year. Some of it was baby weight, some of it was Mexican food/wine/mashed potatoes/chocolate weight. I officially weigh less today than I did when I graduated from undergrad at 23. And less than I did at my wedding 9 years ago when I was 25. And less than when I graduated from vet school 7 years ago. And less than I did BEFORE having 2 children.
I've been a mom for almost 5 years. I can't even wrap my mind around that.
TH and I have now known each other for almost 20 years. We met in the fall of 1991, when we were both 14, although we weren't really "serious" until a couple years later. We've literally been together more than half of our lives. Again, mind blown by that number.
Speaking of 14....SIZE FOURTEEN! *fist pump* And it's a loose 14 at that, size 12 is just around the corner. This is huge. No pun intended.

Last year I didn't have resolutions, but I did make goals that I wanted to attain before my 34th. Let's revisit, shall we?

Start running again. Run 2 5K's. Think about a half marathon. Check, check, and check.

Lose the pregnancy weight. Check. See above.

Go away for a weekend with my husband, without kids. Dang. Not yet. *Game show wrong-answer buzzer sound*. I did go "away" for Girls Weekend without kids, which is halfway there. Send this goal back to the front of the line.

Decide what I'm doing with my career - go back for a residency or what? Check. Not going back to school. Big things on the horizon that I can't discuss here.

Debt free except for student loans, mortgage, and cars. Sigh....almost. Actually both cars will be paid off this year. But due to other unforseen circumstances (oh, how I cringe reading last year's birthday post with no idea of what 2010 would bring, things like paying for funerals), we're still working on getting rid of some debt. But we're getting there.

Eat a pomegranate. So, funny story. Yeah, I couldn't do it. Stared at it, gagged, walked away. A whole year and I couldn't bring myself to eat a pomegranate. File that goal in the trash, it's not happening.

So what will 2011/34 bring? It's going to be huge. HUGE. I've got so many balls in the air right now it's not even funny, and at the end I hope to have some major accomplishments. To sample a few:

Running goals: I'm doing Warrior Dash in August in Colorado with my twin sister, who has also rocked her life and lost FIFTY POUNDS over the past year. I can't even tell you what it will be like for us to cross that finish line together. My second big running goal is to run a half-marathon, which I am planning on doing in December.
Finish upgrading my kitchen.
BIG THINGS on the job front. That's all I'll say. So big that it keeps me up at night excited-worried-hyperventilating-freaking out. More to come on that later.
Size 10.

Here's to another year....

Wordless Wednesday - Me & My Boys at the Train Museum

2011-02-16T07:26:00.001-08:00

The Kindergarten Question

2011-02-13T08:48:00.000-08:00

Oh, it seems like just yesterday I was posting about The Preschool Question. Time is flying by, to say the least. I was looking at J the other day, sprawled in his PBK anywhere chair that used to engulf him and now he can only fit in with his legs hanging over the arms, reading a pictureless book, his arm behind his head just like TH...yeah, time is flying.

We've started looking into kindergartens for J, and as expected it's a bit of a decision-making dilemma. TH and I are both proud products of public schools, and we have nothing against J just going to the school closest to us. But there are factors. Lots of factors.

The Clark County School District (CCSD) is one of the worst in the nation. There's no getting around that. I know they're trying alot of different things to remedy that ranking, and that it's not as big of a deal for the younger grades, but it's a factor. From a cost standpoint we are 99% sure we'll have to go with some sort of public school, but we have to choose carefully. Luckily for us, the area where we live has very good CCSD schools. So if we stay in this area, it shouldn't be a huge issue. (God I sound so snobby! "If we stay in this area." I just lost all my hood cred. Oh well.)
Money. Paying for both kids this year (full-time preschool and 3/4 time daycare for Jr.) was an eye-opener. We spent over 10% of our income on childcare this year. And our daycare is "cheap!" We've run the numbers several times and I just can't see how we could afford a true private school. We're scraping by paying for preschool as it is. Although J will be in an "all-day" program next year wherever he is, we will still have to pay for after-school care as "all-day" in kindergarten means until 2:30pm. And like most working folks, we don't get off at 2:30pm.
Location. This is the one giving us the most trouble. Right now, things are fairly simple because J's preschool is adjacent to TH's job, so he just rides to school every day with Daddy. I take Jr. to daycare, which is only 10minutes from my job. However. It's still a big triangle because we don't LIVE near either of our jobs. So if we send J to the public school nearest our house, we will have to coordinate that with work schedules and getting him picked up after school and finding a new daycare situation for the afterschool hours. There's no way logistically that he could go to the same daycare as Jr. (near my job). We've found a couple of other charter schools that we like, but again they're not really near either of our jobs. We hate the idea of the kids having to spend hours of their day commuting with us. So that's a factor.
J. He's a factor. I've alluded to it before, and I'm not really going to go into detail about it here because I don't want to come off as one of those "My kid's so gifted, he can't go to regular school because he's so SPESHUL" kind of moms. But after many talks with his preschool director and teachers, we know that J needs a challenging academic environment. They are already talking about skipping grades at some point, which I am pretty much against. I'd rather find a school that is challenging enough for him to stay with his peers throughout. This is a tough one. We've gone on a couple open-houses at some of these "challenger" type schools, and OMG, THE OTHER PARENTS. Good Lord. I told TH for some of these people parenting is like a contact sport. Everyone so hyper-competetive, rattling off their kids' accomplishments as if they should already have a resume. I can't stand it. I know what J needs and I want him to be in that setting academically, but I hate all the jockeying and elbowing that goes along with some of these schools.

As of now, we've narrowed it down to two schools.

School A is our local elementary school. Pros: It's brand-new. As in, construction just finished and the school opened this past fall. Therefore it's nowhere near capacity yet, so the class size is small. It's near our house, so on my off days during the week, drop-off/pick-up will be easy. It's a beautiful school in a very nice foothilly type area, with no major roads or commercial districts nearby. So far, the plan is for this school to have a science/math "emphasis" and all of the teachers/administrators are very enthusiastic and dedicated. All-day kindergarten is offered, although on days when we both work we'll have to figure out the 2:30pm-5:30pm gray area. I think there's some kind of afterschool program but I'm not sure of the cost.

Cons: It's brand-new. There's no track record yet. We don't know anyone who's actually sent their kids there, so it's a complete unknown at this point. There are lots of plans and agendas and goals as far as the curriculum, but only time will tell if it's really going to be All That. It's near our house - great on my off days, worrisome when I work. On those days we'll need before-school care as well as I usually have to have Jr. dropped off at his daycare (nowhere near the school) and myself at work by 8am. If J gets sick or something and needs to be picked up, it would be a hike for either of us.

School B: Public charter school. We visited a couple of weeks ago and LOVED the vibe. Pros: It's a "Science and Technology Academy" with a proven track record. All of the kids there seemed to love their classes. The projects they were working on were impressive. The kids get computer/technology instruction from day one, as well as foreign language. They also don't ignore the other subjects, meaning there are art and music classes, which is VERY important to me. It's a public charter, so it's free, and they do offer before/after school care which is reasonably priced. It's not exactly near TH's job but it's on the way, easily accessible to his commute. The classes are small and the teachers top-notch. If J gets in, as a sibling Jr. will be able to get in easier later.

Cons: It's a public charter with small class sizes, which means the only way to get in is The Dreaded Lottery. There's no interviewing or campaigning, which I like, but it's completely out of our control. The parents I met were still on the HyperCompetitive side but I think that goes with the charter territory. It's in a very busy area, right by the highway and alot of shops/commercial stuff. Not a bad part of town by any means, but the location makes me a little nervous. It only goes up to 2nd grade, and then kids continuing on with this charter go to a different campus for 3rd-5th grade, and then a different campus for middle school.

As it stands, if J gets into School B with the lottery, that's where he'll go. There's just ALOT to figure out, as usual. Our little baby, going to kindergarten, I can't believe it...

Show Me the Mommy - Haircut & a couple more pounds

2011-02-04T07:13:00.001-08:00

When I went to the hairdresser last week, I briefly considered just cutting my hair off. Freedom!!

Then I came to my senses and decided to start with going to shoulder length. Baby steps, people.

Closing in on 30 pounds...almost there....

This picture would have been perfect if not for the stains on my shirt from the baby's oatmeal hands (that I didn't even realize were there until the next day when I looked at the photo).

Answers...

2011-01-23T19:42:00.001-08:00

Hey! Thanks for the questions. They actually made me think quite a bit about various aspects of my life which was not the intention but still very interesting. Ok for some answers:

On Being a Vet:
I'm not sure I remember the "why" of becoming a vet. I know it's something I always wanted to do, from the time I was little. I very vividly recall taking our Irish Setter, Clover, to the vet when I was around 6 or 7. It was fascinating to me. At that age I was already obsessed with animals - we lived across the street from a kind-of wildlife preserve and my sisters and I were always finding various animals in our yard and trying to bring them inside to be our pets - toads, garter snakes, salamanders, birds. One time we *almost* tried to pick up a rattlesnake that was in the corner of the yard. Luckily it was dead. Anyway when we took Clover into the vet I was so impressed with him, his office, the fact that she was up on a fancy metal table, the bags of dog food in the front...everything. I actually talked to that vet (Dr. B, he's still in business in Denver!) 2 weeks ago. Talk about full circle. I love animals - not in a creepy dress them up in clothes and act like they're people kind of way, but I find them endlessly interesting and fun to work with. I also LOVE medicine, the science, doing surgery, looking into microscopes every day, thinking about physiology and how the body works. You put the two together, and you've got yourself a vet.

The best thing by far about being a vet is the feeling of helping the animals and the people who take care of them. I have a soft spot in my heart for the elderly pet owners who tell me that their pet is the only companion they have, "all I have left." People love their animals, and even if they're not rich they usually try to do what's best, and I'm always trying to help them do that.

On the flip side of that same coin, the worst part about being a vet by far is the money aspect. We don't have the HMOs/insurance/government to help subsidize what we do, so it's all fee-for-service. People realize that veterinary medicine is really in alot of aspects at the same level as human medicine, and they want/expect us to treat their animals at that level. But what they don't always understand is how much that costs. I could go on and on about this but I'll just say there is nothing more demoralizing than spending days agonizing over a case, even coming into the clinic in the middle of the night to check on it, laying awake wondering if an animal will get better, getting the animal better, going to discharge it and when the people don't want to pay the bill having them say something like "All you vets care about is the money," as if the way to show I "really care" is working for free. Yeah, I hate that.

On Kids:
I know people who will hate me for saying this, but I didn't find going from 1 to 2 kids all that difficult. For me, going from 0 to 1 was MUCH harder. When J was born I struggled with what I now realize was mild PPD, and I had a very tough time adjusting for the first few months. Having Jr. has been very different. Sure there have been long nights and stress and exhaustion and a few freakout moments, but overall the experience has been very positive. I think the spacing does have some to do with it, my boys are about 3.5 years apart, so J has his own life with preschool, soccer, friends, etc and doesn't spend all his time with me anymore anyway. Even the sibling rivalry that I notice between them doesn't stress me much - maybe because I'm a twin and I always had a sibling to compete with so I'm used to bickering?

Laura, the most unexpected part about having two kids...I'm not sure. I think the differences have been related more to going through the whole process a second time as opposed to having 2 kids. The logistics of 2 was a little hinky at first, but it's been alot easier to integrate a baby into a family with kid(s) than it was to integrate a baby into a childless couple's life, if that makes sense. I've often thought about what it would have been like if we'd had twins this time, and I still think it probably (for me) would be easier to deal with twins the second time around than it was for me as a singleton new parent. That's how hard it was for me in the beginning with J.

I've loved having 2 kids. Having Jr. was one of the best decisions we ever made for our family. That said...we are definitely done at two. I'm very happy with two boys. I don't feel like I "need" to have a daughter. I will say that with 2 kids, I now have absolutely ZERO time for myself. ZERO. I'm never "off." 3 would be insane, I think.

How not to screw up being a twin mom:
Remember that twins are just siblings who happen to be the same age. They're not a unit. They don't want to be a unit. Separation is not always bad. Try not to compare them because everyone else will, for their WHOLE LIFE. Recognize that they're different but don't point out the differences (The "quiet one," the "social one."). It's hard to live down labels that people put on you, even innocently. Encourage them to be individuals the same as you would any other siblings.

I'm very close to my twin sister. She's my best friend. But I can honestly say I don't view our relationship as being much different or more "special" than I do my relationship with my younger sister.

On everything else:
Claudia, I'm sorry to inform you...I most definitely did not go to East LOL. I am a GW Patriot through and through. :-)

We're working on going back to Colorado. This has been a huge, drawn-out decision making process. We really enjoy the lifestyle and quality of life we could have for our kids in Colorado. I miss the mountains terribly. I miss my sisters even more. Vegas is dry, and kind of dirty, and more than a little seedy.

But.

Professionally, leaving and going to Colorado now would be starting over in alot of ways. We've been in Vegas for 7 years. I've never practiced in Colorado, we came here right after vet school. I'm established here (and so is TH). I know other vets, I'm familiar with all the specialists, I still have loyal clients. I know I could open a practice here within the next couple of years and be successful. If we go back to CO I think it would be at least 5 years before I could do that. Plus we do have friends here. And a good childcare situation. And a house that we can't sell anytime soon.

We're still undecided. There are huge pros and huge cons to both. To say we've been agonizing over this would be an understatement. Stay tuned on that one.

Hair: The jury's still out. Going to the hairdresser this week. We'll see if I have the cojones to make a radical change. Probably not.

Running bra: I don't have one!! I need one!! Currently I strap my DD's down with two sports bras on top of each other. I've looked into better bra situations but they're pricey and until I start working full time again it's a bit of an extravagance to spend $60 on a bra. Suggestions?

And finally. I met my husband in high school...wait for it...because he had a crush on my sister and he saw me in the hallway and only talked to me because he thought I was her. This is a true story. Let's call it fate -- here we are twenty (!!) years later, high school and college sweethearts beating the odds.

Whew! I'm more interesting than I thought LOL.

I''m actually a very interesting person.

2011-01-17T02:09:00.000-08:00

You just can't always tell from my blog :) I have blogger's block something terrible. So many things are constantly on my mind, and now I even have the free hours when I'm working at night to write some good posts....but I gots nothin'.

So. What do you wanna know? Is there anything you're just dying to ask me? I don't imagine that I have "lurkers" but if so I'd love if you would de-lurk and prod me in a direction. Any direction. What can I write about, what can I write about....

I'm an open book. I'll talk about anything. Well, except for the stuff that I don't talk about on the blog. Leave me a question or Deep Thought in the comments and I'll pretend it was an original idea of mine and write about it. Deal? Deal.

This should be fun....(sound of crickets)

Middle of the night Randomness

2011-01-10T02:25:00.000-08:00

It's 2:26am. Why am I up, writing a blog post, you ask? It's not insomnia, it's called What People Do When They Have to Cobble Together a Living. Or, in other words, until February when I start at the full-time gig that I just secured, I'm having to work part-time and relief shifts here and there to make ends meet, including doing overnights at an emergency vet hospital every weekend this month. As you can see, we haven't been super busy tonight.
I've kind of wrestled with what I should do next in my life and career. I was pretty burned after Jobgate 2010 on working day practice and the ER thing was very appealing. It still is, actually, but there's not a full-time opening so there you are. It is interesting, though, working this long overnight shift (6pm-8am). I've found that it's better for me to just try to stay awake the whole time rather than take naps on the futon they thoughtfully provide for the attending overnight doc. If I fall asleep, I may not get back up. I've had to devise various methods for staying up - lots of caffeine, going outside in the cold, running back inside when I remember what part of town I'm in, knitting, relentlessly surfing the internet...oh yeah and doing doctor stuff, too:) I honestly prefer when it's busy because then the time flies by.
Speaking of time -- my birthday is in 6 weeks. 34. Yowza. I didn't do resolutions because I set some goals last year on my birthday so I'll wait until then to reassess and come up with new ones. I already have a few big goals for 2011...stay tuned.
Pajama Jeans. Ridiculous, or intriguing? Talk amongst yourselves.
Jr. has his 15-month ped. appointment this week (I know, a couple weeks late. Sue me.) He's so ridiculously great at this age. Curious, funny, affectionate, loud, cute as a button. I wish I could bottle this time up and uncork it every now and then, it's so delicious. He's finally starting to make sounds that are a little more deliberate than babbling. So far he only says one word that is halfway recognizable: "Touchdown." Or, more accurately, "TOUCHDOWN!!!" I've got to get this on tape soon. TH had 3 weeks off at home with the boys over the holidays and this is the result :)
J goes back to preschool today after a looooong winter break (5 weeks!!). It should be interesting. Before the holidays I had a meeting with the preschool director about moving him to a more advanced/older classroom as part of an "individualized curriculum" they've devised for him. I think this is totally appropriate given the many talks we've had with his teacher about how he really needs more stimulation than he's getting. The new classroom is right across the hall from the old classroom and the kids all play together at recess (do they still call it "recess?" I don't even know) but it will be a transition. J LOVES his teacher, and so do we. She has taken such an interest in coming up with innovative ways to challenge J in her classroom -- and therein lies part of the problem, she has 15 other kids to look after and couldn't spend all her time making up projects for him. It's so weird to me that we're even having conversations like this IN PRESCHOOL. It's a little overwhelming at times trying to make these decisions. J's teacher bluntly told us at one meeting, "You're going to spend alot of money educating a kid like this." (Referencing our crappy ranked-at-the-bottom-nationally public school system and its, ahem, drawbacks).
Speaking of school - as I've lain awake at night pondering the future I just can't get rid of the idea of going back to school for more training and specialization. This is one of those things I really regret not pursuing right after vet school - unlike physicians vets don't have to pursue residency upon graduation, we're all general practitioners out of the gate. The thought of going back and being a resident (at a resident's paltry salary) at this stage of the game is very scary. But I can't shake it...
I'm officially addicted to running now. And that's not to say that I'm even a "good" runner, I'm pretty slow and I'm still done in by hills but it's become one of those things that I feel like I need to do regularly. I get antsy if I go more than a few days. It's so super cheesy but true - when I'm on the road it's my only time to myself, just me and my thoughts. And I think. Alot. There's a line in one of my favorite Outkast songs where he says "I missed a lot of church/so the music is my confessional." That's how I am about running now, if there's something on my mind (and lately, there's quite a bit) I can leave it on the road. My favorite time to be out is right at dawn, when there's not really anyone else out but me. I even like it when it's cold and I can see my breath. The other day right as the sun came up I saw 2 coyotes cross the road maybe 50 feet in front of me. In my previous life I might have been scared but I was more awestruck than anything else, just me and the coyotes traipsing around before the world wakes up...and anyway being a vet I've been vaccinated against rabies so I'm good :)

2010 - The Year That Was.

2010-12-31T21:34:00.000-08:00

2010. Meh. Won't miss it. It will go down in history as generally Crappy Year. Maybe even Spectacularly Crappy. But it wasn't all bad. 2010 had its moments, and here they are:

Biggest Accomplishments of 2010:
Losing 20 pounds...again. Running several 5K's. Accidentally running a 5 mile 5K. Since then deciding that I might as well run 5 miles every time I go out since apparently I can do it. Spending a weekend away from the kids. Parenting 2 children while working full-time. Maintaining my professionalism and not going ghetto on my former boss/colleague even when I had ample reason to.

Biggest Pain in the Neck in 2010:
My hair. All year, unhappy with the hair. I'm inching towards cutting it off but I just don't think I have the bone structure in my face to rock really short hair.

Random Sort-of Celebrity Association of 2010:
Did you watch Project Runway this year. Did you love Mondo as much as me? Well, guess what...I know that guy. Kind of. We were in marching band together in high school. Okay maybe not exactly "together," we were both in the same all-city marching band in Denver at the same time. I remember him, albeit vaguely. I doubt he would remember me. But still...I know that guy!

2010 Song That I Wanted to Hate But Secretly Loved Anyway:
Train, "Soul Sister." I know. Annoying. But I love it anyway.

2010 Song That Apparently Everyone Else Loved But I Continue to Hate:
Katy Perry "Teenage Dream." Barf, enough with it already.

Favorite Movies of 2010:
Avatar - I know it's really a 2009 movie but I didn't see it until May. I've now watched it about 10 times.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part I
True Grit - I know, right? A western? It was really good, though.
Inception

2010 Movie That I Still Just Don't Get What the Big Deal Is:
Twilight: Whatever the Rest of the Title Is. God these books were horrid and I could barely sit through the first movie so there was no way I could watch the sequel. I don't get the fascination. That kid who plays Jacob is HOT though.

Dog Breeds That Bit Me This Year:
Miniature Schnauzer, Cocker Spaniel, American Eskimo, and for the 3rd year in a row the Number One Breed This Veterinarian Will NEVER Own -- the godforsaken Chihuahua.

Proudest Parenting Moments of 2010:
When J recited the Lord's Prayer from memory by himself. Still gives me chills thinking about it.
Taking care of the boys by myself for almost 3 weeks when Jr. was only 5 months old.
Breastfeeding...again.
Watching J's reading skills blossom. Sharing books from my childhood with him, like Where the Sidewalk Ends.
Getting my kids hooked on "old" Michael Jackson music and Soul Train episodes.

Most Annoying Parenting Issue I Hoped Would Go Away in 2010 But Didn't:
Picky eating. If anything it's worse now that J can complain loudly and in detail the many reasons why he doesn't like something (too spicy, too crunchy, weird color, generally yucky, blah blah blah just eat it already!!!).

What I Learned in 2010 About Having Little Boys That I Wish I Hadn't:
They have no aim and pee on everything. I'm so sick of cleaning up pee around the base of the toilet. I grew up in a house full of girls so I never encountered this problem.

What Surprised Me Most in 2010 About Having Two Kids:
I love it. I had alot of people warning me about how hard it is to have 2 kids, and it just hasn't been that way for me. I really like having children, plural. Sure life is more hectic than ever before, but I've enjoyed this past year of having 2 kids immensely. I highly recommend it.

Best-Mom-of-the-Year Moment 2010:
The Halloween costumes. Hands down. 2 custom-made, full-body zebra costumes that looked like something you'd pay $60 for at a costume store. Totally made the new sewing maching worth it.

Worst-Mom-of-the-Year Moment 2010:
I won't go into detail. Let's just say that we learned the hard way about keeping that top-of-stair gate closed AT ALL TIMES and thankfully (and amazingly) we didn't have to go to the ER to learn the lesson.

Runner-up: When we did have to take J to the ER for the first time. He was jumping on a hotel bed when we were in Santa Barbara and fell off, and we were sure he broke his hand. He didn't. That did, however lead to this awesome picture:

Note the ER hospital bracelet that J refused to take off before his 1st Real School Picture the next day. Love it!

Peace out, 2010! Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

Reason #5,947 these kids better hope nothing ever happens to me.

2010-12-23T17:57:00.000-08:00

Went running this morning. TH said he would get the kids dressed. Came back to the baby wearing this get-up. A busy patterned shirt with completely clashing camo pants. To go out in public. Well, to the private in-home daycare he goes to, but still, it's outside the house. Good grief.

The force is strong in this one.

2010-12-15T19:54:00.001-08:00

A couple of months ago, before Halloween, TH came home with a package of glow-in-the-dark bracelets he'd picked up in the $1 bin at Target. He also had one large "glo-stick" that we intended to use for trick or treating on Halloween. The package of bracelets came in much handier than we'd planned once we realized that J would do just about anything to play with one before bed. They became the bribe du jour, the incentive to brush his teeth, put on his PJ's in a timely manner, or say his prayers without jumping all over the room. He was completely fascinated with turning the lights off and dancing around with them like a college freshman at his first rave.

As luck would have it, we completely forgot about the big glo-stick on Halloween, and didn't need it anyway because someone gave J a jack-o-lantern shaped flashlight that quickly replaced the glo-bracelets as The Next Big Thing. Until TH randomly found the big glo-stick in the junk drawer a few weeks ago and in a truly inspired moment showed it to J, then whisked it away and told him he had to do Something Really Special to get that glo-stick. For awhile now we've been teaching J the Lord's Prayer, reciting it together before bed. TH told J that if he memorized the Lord's Prayer and was able to say it completely by himself, he could have the glo-stick. This was one month ago. Every night since then, when we kneel down for prayers, we've asked J if he wants to try to say it by himself, and every night he says no, he wants us all to say it together. And every night we remind him that there's a glo-stick in the cabinet downstairs with his name on it.

***

Today, I officially lost my job. The full-time one. The Grinch pretty much stole Christmas. Here's how it went down:

Grinch: I need to talk to you about the new contract I promised to give you once I bought the practice.

Me: Great, let's get to it.

Grinch: Well, see, here's the thing. I talked to my accountant, and...the numbers just don't add up. Once the practice is officially mine it will be a one-doctor practice, and the one doctor will be me.

Me: uh....what? When is this all supposed to go down, again? February? March? (This is what I was told last week).

Grinch: Well, see, here's the thing. Everything got kind of expedited so...I'm taking over Christmas Eve. So that will be your last day.

Me: Christmas Eve?? Like, next Friday Christmas Eve?

Grinch: Yep. As of the 24th I won't be able to pay you. I mean, maybe you could work one day a week as an hourly employee or something...I'm really sorry to do this to you a week before Christmas. You're an excellent doctor, the clients love you, I feel terrible about it, blah blah blah, b.s. b.s b.s, blah blah... I'll understand if you don't want to come in next week.

***

So I sadly cleaned 4 years of detritus from my desk, and left early to pick the boys up and spend some time with them. J could tell I was a little off all afternoon, and when he asked me about it I decided to be honest and explain as much as I could. "Remember when I told you how Mommy and Daddy work so we can have enough money to take care of the family and buy things?
Remember the blue pawprint building where Mommy works with the sick animals? Well, I can't work there anymore. They don't have enough money to pay me. So I'll have to work someplace else and it's making me sad." J looked sad, too. He's come to visit me at work dozens of times, I started at this practice when he was 5 months old. Every time we drive past the clinic he shouts, "Mommy! There's your work! Let's go in there and see Waffle!" (Waffle is a cat that lives there.)

He didn't say much about it after that. At bedtime, it was my turn with him (we take turns each night one of us with each kid), and after a couple of books we settled down for bedtime prayers. I kind of wearily asked if he wanted to try the Lord's Prayer. He didn't answer me. He just knelt next to his bed, put his hands together...and did it. The whole thing. From start to finish, without messing up or stumbling over the words once. It seemed like it just poured out of him effortlessly. My FOUR YEAR OLD. It gave me chills listening to him, he sounded so peaceful and grown-up. I can only compare it to that scene at the end of A Charlie Brown Christmas when Linus quotes the Bible passage about the first Christmas. It was like the woe-is-me haze lifted and I could see our future right in front of me, in our little boy. I started crying.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me," I told him.

And you better believe he got that glo-stick.

Pretending to be a Jedi.

Show Me the Mommy - 16

2010-12-12T22:15:00.001-08:00

I bought this dress at Kohl's maybe 3 months ago. When I was not comfortably in a 16. Today was the first time I actually wore it outside the house. I like the retro-ish "Mad Men" vibe of it, which is more flattering for us curvy girls than more modern stuff. I'm not loving how busty I look with this neckline and the busy pattern but overall I'll take it.

I know alot of women who would rather cut off their own arm than be a size 16 but it's a milestone size for me. 16 is the cutoff for alot of stores before going into plus-size territory. Therefore I have now lost enough weight to size myself back IN to the regular store which makes me very happy. No more Lane Bryant, yaaaaay!!!

(Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

The 5 Mile 5K

2010-12-05T21:42:00.001-08:00

*Disclaimer: Loaded up the camera w/batteries and a new memory card, then promptly forgot it on the counter at home. Therefore sadly I have no pictures to accompany this post.

Saturday I took part in the 2010 Las Vegas Great Santa Run, a 5K race that features thousands of runners dressed as Santa Claus in a combined effort to raise money for a local charity and beat the Guiness Book Record for "most Santa Clauses in one place." This is the second time I've run this race -- the first time was 3 years ago, and it was also the first time I'd ever run in a real race. The last time I was in the Santa Run it took place on Fremont Street in "Old Vegas," which was a perfect location. No major hills, a nice wide street to run on, a good gathering place at the beginning/end for those not running and for the live music and activities that accompany the event. It was alot of fun and a great experience for my first 5K.

The 2010 event was a little different. It was held at a big shopping/entertainment complex on the south end of Vegas Boulevard (i.e. The Strip), for reasons that are a bit unclear to me. When I heard where they were having the race this year my first thought was that there is no way this complex is 3+ miles around, and I wondered how exactly they would set up a course through a shopping center. I was right about the distance - shortaly after the race started it became apparent that the route would basically be 3 laps around the circumference of the shopping center. Or so I thought. I made a goal several months ago to run this race with Jr. in the jogger, and after the first lap I thought it was going to be a pretty easy race - there were a few mild inclines but no hills, and once we got past the initial bottleneck at the start (I'm not exaggerating at all when I say there are about 8,000 runners in this thing) the course seemed pretty wide open. I got into a good pace right away, and set an internal goal to finish in under 30 minutes. Totally doable.

The second lap, I noticed that there seemed to be alot of people milling about in Santa costumes who weren't actually in the race - they were jogging/walking through the parking lots and up and down the sidewalks of the shopping center, so they had to be volunteers or something, right? But...they had numbers on their chests/backs. I couldn't figure out what they were doing. Then I realized Organizational Mistake #1 - there was a "1-mile Fun Run/Walk," and those people were on a similar but slightly different course. Instead of having some space between the two races, the 1-Mile part began immediately after the 5K, with no demarcation in the huge column of people of who was in which race. Which was fine except for Organizational Mistake #2 - the only way to know which course was which when the two overlapped as to follow people standing at various corners with small colored arrows pointing out the way - red arrows were for the 5K, green arrows were the 1 mile. I think, I never was exactly sure what color I was supposed to follow. There was no other identification of the route. But after the second lap I still felt pretty good, so I just went with the crowd.

As soon as the third lap started, I realized that there was a problem. Instead of following the circumference as before, suddenly all of the 5K runners kept going straight along the back road instead of turning into the shopping center. Straight...towards a construction site. I'm not sure if the folks in the lead took a wrong turn, or got mixed up by the arrows, or just weren't paying attention, but I could see everyone kind of looking around with confused looks on their faces. The arrow-holders were nowhere to be seen. So we all just kept running. As you can imagine, if you've got a couple thousand people running, it's going to take alot for the tide to turn; at that point we were pretty much like lemmings. Eventually someone must have realized that we were waaaaay of course because I started seeing people cutting across a random lot, headed back toward the shopping center. So...that's what everyone did. Cut across a dirt lot. But at that point we were far enough away that we couldn't actually see the finish line, and weren't sure how to get there because all of the 1-milers were done and had started to wander around the shopping center, eating and shopping and socializing. We were running towards a big mass of people all dressed like Santa, half of them in the street/course, with no one exactly sure where we were supposed to end up.

Which brings us to Organizational Mistake #3: There were TWO FINISH LINES. One for the 1-milers, one for the 5K. And neither finish line was where we started, on the outskirts of the shopping center. Both were in the middle of the complex where there's a little park/bandstand thing, about a block apart from each other. The 1-milers were all hanging out in the park between the 2 finish lines, spilling into the street, and the remaining 5K runners didn't know which finish line we were headed towards because I guess the arrow people had given up or forgotten about the longer race and called it a day. I don't know. Thankfully Jr. pretty much slept the entire time, but my shoulders and neck were starting to get sore from pushing the jogger, and although I was still running just fine, I was more than ready to be done. Finally, someone made an executive decision and picked one of the balloon arches marking the finish lines, and we all made our way through it. But it was the wrong one. Which was disappointing because TH and J had been waiting the whole time at the correct side to watch me come across the finish line and they totally missed me finishing. It was a bit ridiculous to say the least.

But...here's the cool part, at least for me. Although I knew the race was taking a bit longer than I had trained for (I must have played my "Power Song"* 4 times at the end because I'd run out of music on my "5K Playlist"), for some reason I never checked my time or distance until the whole thing was over. You guys, I ran 4.97 miles! I have never run more than 4 miles before. And I didn't stop to walk one single time. 52 minutes of running, a little over 10 minutes/mile, which is pretty good for me. With Jr. in the jogger, which I've also never done for more than about 2 miles before. Despite my general frustration with the idiotic way the race was set up, I have to say I was fairly proud of myself. I never signed on for the "500 in 2010" thing because 2010 began with me breastfeeding a 3 month old infant and I knew it was kind of unrealistic. I didn't even start running again until about 5 months ago, after a whopping 18 months of almost no real exercise. But I checked my Nike+ thing this morning and in those few months I've logged 207 miles. I totally think that by the time a year is up I will have surpassed 500 miles. I am officially In Much Better Shape Than I Was Five Years Ago. At 33. After breastfeeding 2 children. (It would be a lie, however to say that my boobs are in better shape than they were 5 years ago after BFing 2 children. Another post for another day.)

I don't surprise myself often, but this time I really didn't know I had it in me. And who knows, next year...half marathon, maybe?

*Run This Town - Jay-Z feat. Rhianna. Awesome running song, especially at the end of a race.

Drive-by Randomness

2010-11-27T19:48:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted in 2 weeks. It feels like I haven't posted in 2 minutes. That's how fast life moves along when you're working 2 jobs and taking care of kids and trying to "train" for another 5K and maintaining a marriage.
Speaking of training...Las Vegas Great Santa Run in 7 days. This was the first race I ever ran, 3 years ago. I can't wait for this race every year. Literally thousands of people wearing Santa suits running around Vegas. Pure awesomeness. TH has promised me something special if I run the whole thing with Jr. in the jogger.
Get your minds out of the gutter, I'm pretty sure "something special" involves some kind of early Christmas present.
Speaking of presents...I want an e-reader. I'm constantly reading, so there's stacks of new and used books all over my house. I love the idea of having all my literature in one place.But then, it seems weird to curl up with a cup of tea and...a piece of plastic. Any recommendations? I'm leaning towards the Nook.
Speaking of Christmas - for the first time EVER I'm pretty much done with shopping, a whole month before the big day. I've still got to think of something for Jr., but I'm sure he could care less. He doesn't even really need presents at 14 months but I feel like he should get a few things so that J will understand that the holiday isn't all about him. Otherwise, everything for Jr. and TH is crossed off my list and securely stashed around the house. I feel so accomplished LOL.
I've been working too much. I don't really have a choice right now, but my tiredness is almost palpable. I'm having moments where I really want to be in a different profession because it's draining, especially this time of year when there's always an influx of euthanasias. This is a real thing. I have my theories as to why alot of people choose to put their pets down during the holidays, but it's still weird. I had four ON MONDAY ALONE.
On the other hand, over the last couple of weeks I've suddenly taken on all kinds of weird and crazy cases and in some ways I feel like I'm just now becoming a "real" doctor. I told one of my techs, this past week I've felt like the vet version of House - I diagnosed FOUR different diseases that I've never seen before, only read about in vet school. And amazingly I was right all four times. Maybe I do know what I'm doing...
But seriously though, I really would like a week off.
Jr. is walking and trying to run and amusing himself by walking backwards and intermittently trying to kill himself by trying to jump off the stairs/couch/our bed. But...he doesn't say anything yet that resembles a word. He understands alot, but has yet to say so much as "mama" or "dada." I'm trying to decide if I'm worried. It seems like a stupid thing to worry about, but the other day I watched a video of J at his first birthday and he was saying 2-3 word sentences. Who knows, they're just different I guess.
Speaking of J...preschool is proving to be challenging in ways we didn't anticipate. On the one hand, his teacher has had to formulate an "individualized curriculum" for him because he is so far ahead of his classmates on certain things like reading that she's "literally run out of lesson plans for him." (Her words). On the other hand, he's been getting in trouble at least once a week for various antics like not listening to his teachers, using "inappropriate language" (i.e. calling people "poopy heads"), and one incident that will go down in infamy as The Day J Got All the Other Kids Riled Up During Naptime and Led a Revolt Wherein He Was Actually Standing on a Chair Yelling for Them to Get Up and Run From the Inept Student Teachers and Some of the Kids Actually Went So Far as to Try to Run Out of the Classroom Onto the Playground. Yep, he's gifted like that.
Oh, to have been a fly on the wall during that incident.

Show Me the Mommy - Hair Edition

2010-11-12T21:17:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: I can't believe I'm doing this...you have no idea how nervous it makes me to show my hair in its real state!!

The other day I was looking through various pictures of myself here, on Facebook, on email, etc. and I realized that I have very few photos of my hair in its "natural" state. Which is funny because I spend more time with my hair natural than straight, mostly due to how time-consuming it is to straighten my hair at home. I don't have a relaxer or any chemical alterations, when I want my hair straight it's just me, my blow dryer, a flatiron, a curling iron, and about 1.5 hours of my precious time. I do go the hairdresser every 3 months or so for a trim and she always blows it out and presses it and it looks fantastic...for a couple of days until I have to wash it and then it's back to the same old, same old. So I thought (why, I don't know) I'd show the little process it takes for me to do my hair. Okay, as I'm writing this it sounds dumber and dumber but I took the pictures so here goes!

Here is an example of how I WISH my hair always looked when it's curly. This photo was taken at Jr.'s first birthday party (I'm on the right). Notice how shiny and springy the curls look, which takes a good bit of effort and alot of product. The other thing I want you to notice about this pic is my twin sister's hair. It's subtle, but do you notice the difference in texture, how her curls aren't quite so tight? My hair used to be that exact same level of curliness...and then I got pregnant with Jr. I don't know what happened, but ever since then the curls have gotten a bit on the unruly side. My hairdresser even commented that my hair is alot harder to tame than it used to be, my blowouts with her take much longer than they did 2 years ago.

Let's call this the "Before" picture.

It's the way my curls usually look in real life, minus the extra effort and product, after a long day at work. It's not any shorter than in the previous picture, the curls are just tighter. I seem to have no control over that. This is how my hair looks at least 50% of the time. Okay, honesty - since Jr. was born and I stopped straightening my hair as often, I'd guess more like 75%. Not necessarily this style but definitely this texture.

Step 1: De-tangle in preparation for straightening. This is why people with my hair texture absolutely, under no circumstances brush their hair during the day once the style is set (while it's wet). Once my hair dries, if I put a brush to it...instant Diana Ross.

Step 2: Divide and conquer. Sing a few bars of "I rock rough n' tough, with my afro puffs." Wish that I could wear my hair like this to work. Remember that I'm 33. Start straightening.

Halfway through. This is maybe 40 minutes into it. Why does it take so long? In order to get the kinks out I have to flatiron in teeny tiny sections, several times.

I can't believe the bags under my eyes in these photos. Stress is not a good look for me.

The finished product. Do you see why I make the effort? It looks great, right?

The problem is, obviously I can't wet or wash this or it will immediately revert back to its natural state. Therefore I have 5 days, TOPS, before it's so greasy and stringy from not washing that I get grossed out, and back to curly I go. And then usually it's another 2-3 weeks before I have the energy to straighten it again. I've thought about cutting it off, but I actually think it would end up being more work to keep it looking cute at a shorter length, especially while it's curly.

Tunnel Vision

2010-11-07T21:29:00.001-08:00

When we were kids growing up in Colorado, at least once a year we'd have reason to drive through the Eisenhower Tunnel, which passes under the Continental Divide in the Rocky Mountains. It's the longest mountain tunnel in the world (if I can remember correctly), around 1.75 miles long. If you've ever had cause to drive to/from Denver to one of the major ski resorts, you've likely driven through it. Something about going through the Eisenhower Tunnel was and is always exciting for me. The entrance to it doesn't look like much, and the tunnel itself is pretty boring, but as kids we always looked forward to driving through it, maybe because it literally feels like the entrance to the "real" mountains - often it would be clear and dry on one side, and when we'd come through the other side less than 10 minutes later it would be blizzard-like snow conditions. One game that we played every time we drove through the tunnel was to see who could hold their breath through the whole thing. I'm not sure if anyone ever won or was really able to do it, or how long it even takes to drive the tunnel. I do remember, however, that there was always a point in the game where you started to see light around the bend, where you knew that the end was somewhere down there, but because you couldn't actually see the exit and didn't really know how far away it was, you started to question if you were going to be able to make it this time. Was the end of the tunnel just around the corner, or another mile away? Would you pass out trying to make it, or be the winner?

That's how I feel in my life right now. You guys, I'm struggling. That's the only way I can put it. I don't want to bore everyone with my daily angst, so my posts of late have been what I call "blog lite" or "cheater" posts - heavy on pictures and captions, lite on any real content. It's not that there's any one giant horrific thing that's happened, it's more a cumulative effect of alot of big and small sucky things that once they're added up are starting to drag me down. I really, really want this to be the Best Year Ever...but it's not even close. It's actually turning out to be one of the Worst Years Ever. Yes, we continue to be blessed with health and beautiful children and a roof over our heads and food to eat. I know it could be worse, okay? But mentally and emotionally, I'm feeling kind of spent. Important people have passed away. Other important people have been hospitalized and sick. People around us have been getting divorced left and right. The economy is killing our community and what was a trickle-down effect on TH and I has begun to directly affect us. My career is in a complete shambles right now, to the point where I've been questioning whether I even want to stay in this profession that I spent 10 years of school and over $100,000 training for. But worst of all, I've been feeling...disappointed in people. I don't know if my expectations are too high, but they seem reasonable to me. Honesty. Integrity. Compassion. Caring. Unselfishness. Am I asking for too much? So many people that I expected more from are falling short, and it's starting to change my entire view of what the world is really like, which bothers me.

The family is still together and going strong, which is really the only thing that matters in the end. TH and I are people of faith and we truly believe that this is all happening for a reason. But right now, we're squarely in the tunnel. We can't see the entrance anymore, and we're holding our breath, hoping we can make it. We can see the light starting to seep in around the edges, and we know that we'll be coming out on the other side soon, but we don't know exactly how far it is, if it's just around the bend or another mile away. Will the weather be the same, or will it be a blizzard with zero visibility? I wish I could tell you. All I know is, we are definitely in the real mountains...

Real Quick-Like

2010-10-31T21:14:00.000-07:00

Sadly all of my posts recently have been like this - real quick-like, bullet format, not enough hours in the day and my poor little blog is suffering from being low on the priority list. Anyhoo. The last few weeks in a nutshell:

Gratuitous baby photo with unnecessarily cutesy caption.

"Whatchoo talkin' about, Willis?"

Is he actually enjoying this? You be the judge.

Hey whaddya know, sometimes they do like each other. The other notable thing about this picture: I'm pretty sure this was taken around 4pm on my day off. 4pm, and they're both still in PJs.

Random pat myself on the back moment. Every Sunday we give J the toy sections of all the sale papers and his safety scissors, and he cuts out all of the things he wants to put on his Christmas list for Santa and puts them in a ziploc bag on the fridge. We call it his "Christmas File." It's been sooooo helpful figuring out what he actually wants for Christmas shopping. Genius!

Grandpa teaching J to play guitar.

Yaaaay, free pumpkins at the Fall Festival. Of course they forgot to mention that these pumpkins were seriously underripe and pretty much impossible to carve because the shells are hard like cement.

Crossing the finish line at the Fall Festival 5K. Notice the, um, lack of alot of people behind me. I was near the end to say the least. I'm just proud of the fact that my feet were still moving, the last mile of the race was all uphill and there were a couple of times where it seemed like I was running in place. But hey, at least I beat the lady with the double stroller, right? Right?

Nope. Definitely not "enjoying" it. Although he did ask to go again and was happier the second time around.

J: "Who says "matchy-matchy" is a bad thing when you're picking out your own clothes?"

Jr: "For the love of God, someone please cut my hair! Or at least brush it."

Preschool Halloween Parade. It was like being at a movie premierethere were so many parents lined up on the side with their digital cameras flashing (it was in the evening) that it felt like we were paparazzi. Here, J is clearly giving the universal sign for, "Please, no autographs."

Jr. longingly watching J at a Halloween party, fervently wishing that he could be four like his big brother so he that he, too, could blatantly disregard me telling him 5 SECONDS EARLIER not to jump out of this trampoline onto the rocks.

Pre-trick-or-treating. Yes, I made both of these zebra costumes, staying up til midnight for the last 3 days to get them finished. You can send the Mom of the Year Award directly to my house, thank you.

Just kidding, I love sewing stuff like this and seeing them in the costumes makes all the time spent on them totally worth it. (Check out my "costume" of random "fairy make-up". I mean let's be real, I only have so many hours in the day for being crafty, someone wasn't getting a costume and that someone was me.)

The Loot. I just love the look of smug satisfaction on his face. He has no idea that I'm raiding said loot as soon as he goes to bed.

My 3 boys on Halloween. I am going to miss these years so much when they're over.

Show me the Mommy - Working Mommy

2010-10-16T11:13:00.001-07:00

Okay, I'll play. Mostly because even though I intellectually know that I'm okay-looking, I really hate the way I look in pictures, so I'm not in very many. I feel like photos of me never match up with how I *think* I look in my mind's eye, if that makes sense.

Saturday. At work. Drinking coffee, working on charts. Went running in the morning so the hair is pulled back, ran out of time getting ready and didn't put on foundation, hence the tired-looking face. Trying to finish up my cases in time to make it to at least one of J's soccer games this season. The story of my working mom life.

And now the part where we all write love letters to each other

2010-10-06T11:49:00.001-07:00

So. Everyone who reads this blog knows what I was up to last weekend. Because...everyone who reads this blog was probably there LOL. What can I say about the Vegas weekend? Alot. More than anyone probably cares to read. Since I live here I wasn't at all distracted by being in Vegas, which allowed me to really take in the moment and savor all of the new (and old) friendships that were formed. I kept thinking before this weekend that it was so weird, the eleven of us who for the most part had never met each other deciding to take time away from our families and drop major $$ on essentially vacationing with strangers. Except....we're not strangers. I didn't feel AT ALL like I didn't know these people. It was like going to a reunion, everyone seemed so familiar and I already knew some of their family history and their jobs and their views on life. In my educational and professional life I've had alot of moments where I was keenly aware that I was a little different, I was the big ol' black girl in the room. I didn't feel that way ONCE during this weekend. I'm already sad that we can't just get together for drinks again in a couple of weeks. So here's my thoughts on the whole thing, in randomness format: (I didn't bring a camera but I'll post links to everyone's blog where I'm sure someone posted pictures :)

Julie - our kids are the exact same ages - her Lacey and Jr. were born one day apart. We've corresponded ALOT over the past year as we've adjusted to having 2 kids and breastfeeding again and lack of sleep. I can't even tell you how much I was looking forward to talking to her in person. She is just like I thought - super smart, funny as hell, a very devoted mom. I've never been so delighted to hear another person drop an f-bomb in all my life. ("We both have potty mouths! Yay!!"). I'll be forever grateful for her actually getting into the backseat with Jr. after I picked her up from the airport and he decided to royally flip out in the car on the way home. That was the move of someone who really has been there, done that. And I'll also be forever grateful that she at least tried to pretend she wanted to go the nightclub.

Speaking of nightclubs - Tao at the Venetian. Whack as hell, glad we got in for free. I had on a ridiculous purple dress that I thought was totally hot at the store and now in hindsight feels a leeeeetle bit like part of the Miss Piggy Collection. But I still had a good time - you know me, if there's music and I can dance a little I don't care about the rest. A free vodka drink and a Cosmo didn't hurt either. And I definitely appreciated feeling loose and stress-free enough at one point to hoist my drink and simply toast, "F--- it."

Heidi - we've met before as she's here in Vegas, but I really got to see a different side to her this weekend. Heidi is a firecracker, in the nicest sense. She knows herself, she loves her kids but isn't run over by them, she loves to talk...and she definitely made me look like a poser as far as being "local" - obviously she gets out alot more than I do. Heidi was instrumental in us having a weekend of awesome-yet-not-too-pricey food. AND she was a little hottie at the nightclub. Can you say "the total package?"

Beth - okay I have to admit I knew who she was but somehow hadn't seen her blog. So it was odd that I got the strongest sense of deja vu whenever I talked to her - she looks and acts SO MUCH like Jen, my best friend from vet school. It was uncanny. I'm completely jealous of Beth's job - if I didn't go into vet med I wanted to be a history teacher and she gets to be a part of living history every day. I would love to meet up with Beth again.

Joanna - just. like. I. imagined. Which is a good thing. I don't think I've ever met anyone who spins a story the way she does - she has a real way with words. Her stories about her husband and son were hilarious. She's also very sure of herself - she calls it "contrary," I call it being a grown-ass woman who knows what she does and doesn't like (wanna know a secret? I don't like cordial cherries either!! Notice I didn't touch them). Why does everyone I'd love to meet for coffee every week live on the East Coast??

Jenn - whoa. I'm pretty sure I haven't ever been as together as she is. I mean seriously I felt like an airhead around her, she's so organized. Another strong woman - you shoulda seen her whip that big Tahoe into a U-turn without having to do a 3-pointer, it was great. I also love talking to people like her about their pets - why can't everyone I deal with be that caring yet level-headed when making decisions for their animals?

Rita (and her BFF Tenaya) - "Where my girls at?" LOL. Rita and I have met a few times before and I always always always love talking to her! She's pretty much the exact kind of person I was friends with in college - smart, fun, funny, adventurous, ready to party. I can't believe I was the youngest person on this weekend - Rita and Tenaya knew how to party til dawn like the 25 year olds while I was forcing myself to stay up until midnight. And even though you weren't happy with your haircut, Rita, I still give you props for the spur of the moment decision at the spa - I am so picky about hairdressers, I would never have the balls to get a haircut without thinking about it for weeks in advance. p.s....Can I borrow some jewelry?

Speaking of hair - after this weekend I'm seriously considering cutting my hair off. I got it done at the salon on Thursday and by Friday night thanks to the random humidity and rain it was a poofy ridiculous mess. I feel like I spent way too much time trying to tame my hair and being self-conscious about an impending Diana Ross moment every time we went outside.

Laura - again, exactly as advertised. I think of everyone Laura is the easiest to feel like you "know" because she's by far the most prolific blogger. I didn't get to talk to Laura as much as I wanted to, probably because she was always doing something - the girl lives a big life. Boudoir photos, fake eyelashes, meeting other internet friends, taking amazing photos...I bow down. So much energy and confidence - she's the person I want to be when I grow up :) I also love the short hair, it's one of my inspirations for wanting to cut mine off. Sadly, though, I still have never had In N Out...

Bridget - out of everyone, I'm most sad that I didn't get to spend more time with Bridget. She's another one who can spin a good story, and her style is out of this world. We all went shopping in her luggage - I was oddly proud of myself that I brought the same shoes that she did, like that was the fashion stamp of approval LOL. Again I wish I had this much confidence. It's funny because on paper I'd think that Bridget and I are very different - different political views, different lifestyle, etc. but I really enjoyed talking to her. With her cute little Southern voice.

Lindsay - all I can say is wow. She's someone else that on paper would seem very different from me, but to steal Laura's phrase I am girl-crushing on Lindsay. Sadly it's rare that you meet people who are truly, genuinely nice people and Lindsay is one of those. She is so sweet, y'all. (That was my homage to Texas I guess). I love that she wanted to watch football while we were hanging out in the cabana, and that she kept forcing herself to take her hair out of a ponytail like I had to force myself not to wear headbands all weekend.

I really did have a good time. It wasn't exactly the nonstop party that was envisioned (except for Rita & Tenaya), but it was just what I needed. If and when we do this again, I don't think we need fancy nightclubs and restaurants, just someplace to sit and and drink and relax and talk. And talk and talk and talk...I'm thinking somewhere beachy next time?

My Heart

2010-09-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning a little confused.

Wasn't this just yesterday?

It was a year ago that I wondered whether I could love you as much as your big brother. All that worry, gone in an instant the minute I saw you.

My sweet little boy, with your angelic face and loud voice and freakishly strong little hands.

My feisty second baby that made me realize just how easy my first baby was. The baby who benefited from me having so much more confidence in myself as a mother. The baby who I actually cherished the late nights with (and they were/are many, for you are also the baby who fights sleep!) instead of wishing the time away.

My petite little man, so much smaller than your brother was but already outpacing his 4 year old appetite! I still have yet to find any food you refuse. Can it be eaten? Then you like it.

Our "Littleness." You really made us a family as cheesy as that sounds. J is a big brother because of you, and he's learned so much from having you around, even more than you've probably learned from him. Oh, how you adore him! I hope you always feel this way.

The past year has been so hard for us in so many ways. But when I look back I hope I'll remember this as the year of Jr., the bright spot in all this darkness, the source of so much joy.

My "Sweet Pea."

My "Poofy Puffhead."

My "Manny-Moo."

My heart.

Could I love you as much, indeed. Happy First Birthday.

Just keep swimming....

2010-09-20T14:55:00.000-07:00

I love that little saying from Dory in Finding Nemo. That's about where I'm at right now, alot going on and unfortunately alot of great posts for the blog in my mind but not enough time to write them down.

A synopsis of the next few weeks:
Work a 6 day/60hr week this week. J soccer practice Monday/Wednesday, first game on Saturday. Preschool friend birthday party after soccer game Saturday (TH handling all that because I'll be at work). Family arrives in town while I'm at work on Saturday (woo-hoo! Both sisters and my mom and me all together in Vegas for the first time in 4 years!). Jr.'s 1st birthday party Sunday. Go into work Monday to neuter my sister's dog. Family here for 4 days, lots of our usual shenanigans will likely ensue. Again soccer practice Monday/Wednesday. Jr. one year check-up and shots that Wednesday (on his birthday). Home with the boys til Friday then Girls Weekend!!! til Sunday. The next day back at work, work four days/40 hours. Leave on Thursday night again to drive to California (5 hrs) for a veterinary conference. Stay in Cali 3 days, return Sunday night, back at work for another 4 days the next day. Work that Saturday as well. Dad in town for 5 days and 5K race the following Saturday. Work normal 4 day weeks plus the next 2 Saturdays.

The next Saturday and Sunday off not involving travel or family visiting: November 13.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming....

On Running.

2010-09-06T08:39:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I'm actually saying this. I love running. If you've known me for more than a few years, you know this is a pretty new development. I have always hated running. HATED. When I was in high school and was involved in various sports, I dreaded the part of practices or training that required running around the track or through the park. It's not that I didn't like exercise, I've always enjoyed exercising in general. Just not running. The burning lungs, the pounding on my knees, the infinite search for a good bra for "ample-chested" women, the shin splints....

About 3 years ago, I randomly decided to start running. I don't know why. I had baby weight to lose, I was getting bored with going to the gym, and I had a friend who was always talking about how great she felt after going for a run. I had further incentive to do it when a friend of mine moved out of state and gave me her almost-brand-new treadmill because they couldn't fit it on the moving truck. So, I started running. Poorly. I could barely go 1/4 mile without stopping to walk. I did enjoy the time to myself, though, so I kept at it. I ran my first 5K, which was much more fun than I'd anticipated, probably because of the type of event more than the running itself. I lost some weight. I ran another 5K a few months later. But, I can't say that I really "loved" running. It was...okay. An excuse to buy an iPod. It made me sound kind of cool, to come into work and say things like "You'll never believe the coyote I saw when I was out on my run this morning," or "Oh, did you try to call me earlier? Sorry, I must have been out running."

Then Jr. came along, and for almost a year and a half (the whole pregnancy and up until he was around 9 months), I didn't run at all. And I can't say that I missed it. Sure, I felt guilty when I'd see my running shoes in the back of the closet, all dusty and half-smashed under a box. But I had absolutely. No. Desire. To. Go. Running.

However, a couple months ago, I was once again getting bored with my workout routine and frustrated with the 3-month weight loss plateau I'd been on, and since I was winding down with breastfeeding, I decided on the spur of the moment to start running again. This time, I bought one of those Nike Plus thingies and some new shoes so I could actually track how far I was running. One morning, after giving Jr. a bottle at around 5am, I set out, my only goal to go until I'd reached 5K, walking or running. I found a new trail near our house that went a little further into the desert than I'd ever been before, and that has ALOT more hills than I'm used to. I think that's what did it - actually watching the sun rise over our neighborhood from the top of a killer hill, no one around but me (and the bats. Good Lord are there alot of bats around here). When I got home from that run, I felt fricking FANTASTIC. Tired and sweaty, yes, and I'd had to walk about 70% of the 5K, but still fantastic. I had energy all day, and I couldn't wait until I could get out on the trail again.

That was about 2 months ago. Since then, I've run/walked about 90 miles. I make myself get out there at least 3 times a week, usually more, and my best runs seem to be the ones that start when it's still dark outside. There's just something about being on that trail and seeing the sun come up, and knowing that while everyone else is still asleep I've already accomplished something for the day. It's....it's....exhilarating, I guess. I've starting noticing who the "regulars" are, the other people that I always see when out on my run - the old guy with socks pulled up to his knees, the middle-aged couple with the 3 dogs who are never on leash but thankfully very friendly, the guy with the not-so-friendly beagle who I make sure to avoid when I see them further down the path, the older lady who's always waaaaay out in the desert, so far away that I can't talk to her but I see her out there almost every day...and they see me. I don't know how I look -- probably super red-faced (I flush really easily) and sweaty and out of shape, but at least I'm out there, right?

I've worked my way up to a 7K route around my house. To be honest, I still have to stop and walk at least once or twice and I come to almost a standstill whenever I'm faced with a major incline. But no matter what my time or distance, when I'm on the road and listening to my carefully-selected playlist (current "Power Song": B.O.B. by OutKast) and thinking thinking thinking about whatever heavy issue I'm working on, I can tell that it's finally happened.

I love running now. I'm a runner.

6 months since my birthday - update.

2010-08-23T11:23:00.001-07:00

Wow time is flying by so fast! 6 months ago on my 33rd birthday I made several goals for myself, some of which I have easily attained, and others...not so much. Here's the update:

Goal 1: Run 2 5K's and think about a half marathon.
I am doing FANTASTIC with this goal. I haven't run the 5Ks yet but I am signed up for 2--one in October and the Santa Run in December--so I've been seriously training with great results. Running in general is a fairly new thing for me - I randomly decided I wanted to do the Santa Run 3 years ago, which was the first time in my whole life I'd ever run outside of a high school gym class. Thanks to Jr. and the ensuing pregnancy/post-partum/little baby madness I'd hardly run at all the past year until a couple months ago. For the past 6 weeks I've been faithfully getting up at 5am at least 3-4 times a week and hitting the road - no treadmill, no skipping weeks. I still wouldn't consider myself a "runner," I have yet to be able to run a whole 5K without walking thanks to all the hills around my house, but it's a start, right?

Goal 2: Lose pregnancy weight.
Again, lots of success here. I'm only a few pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight with the baby's first birthday right around the corner. I've visited this issue before so I won't rehash it, but I can honestly say that I am very happy with where I'm at physically and how I got there (i.e. normal diet and exercise stuff instead of starving myself and stressing out about it).

Goal 3: Get away for a weekend without the kids.
Yeah, right. I'm pretty sure our little blogger meet-up in October will be my first time away from the kids. A night away with BOTH of us? I don't see it happening any time soon but we'll see.

Goal 4: Decide what, if anything, I want to do with my career.
Honestly things have only gotten more confusing since February as far as that goes. I've been mulling over so many things in my mind and I don't have a really clear idea of what I want to happen. I really thought that at this point (6+ years out of vet school) I would be well on my way to owning my own practice or becoming a specialist. Neither of those things seems to be on the horizon, and I'm not quite sure how to make them happen. Do I go back to school? Do we move back to Colorado and think about opening a practice? Do I stay where I'm at for a few more years until the kids are older? What to do, what to do...maybe by my 34th birthday some kind of plan will be in place.

Goal 5: Debt free.
Still working on it. Due to the recession and its huge impact on Las Vegas, TH and I have both had to take fairly significant pay reductions this year with more on the horizon. Although we haven't accrued more debt necessarily, we've definitely had to slow down on paying down the credit cards and such. I could write a whole post on what it's like to make "good money" but still be essentially broke, but I don't feel like being depressed today. Another topic for another time.

Goal 6: Eat a pomegranate.
Hahahahaha. Yeah.....no. Hells no. I bought one, sat and stared at it for awhile, opened it, almost barfed looking at all those seeds, and shelved that goal for awhile. Couldn't bring myself to do it. I'll try again in a few months. Or never.

Hopefully when I revisit this again in 6 months when 34 is on the clock I'll have some 5Ks under my belt, I'll be fitter/thinner, debt-free, with complete clarity about where my life is going. Only time will tell...

The Slide

2010-08-09T13:15:00.000-07:00

On Saturday I got off work by 2pm, so I decided to take J swimming, just he and I. We don't live really close to a public pool, and we've been so short on time this summer that we haven't really done much swimming at all. Now that I think about it, I think J has been in a pool a grand total of 3 times since May, including Saturday. (Next year I vow to do better, I promise!). It was my intention to do swim lessons this year but for various reasons it just didn't happen. The bottom line is, J still doesn't really know how to swim. Sure, he'll splash around in the water and even put his head under every now and then, but in general "swimming" to him has meant laying on his belly in the walk-in (i.e. extremely shallow) part of the little kids' pool, cruising around the pool by hanging onto the edge, or hanging onto me screaming and basically embarrassing me whenever I try to force him to float or something.

However, this year he has been sloooooowly acclimating to the water more, with less screaming and freaking out about water going in his mouth or nose. The pool we went to on Saturday, at the big local rec center, is one of our favorites because it's only a 10-15min drive from our house, it has long hours, it's cheap, and it has a really huge "activity pool" with wateralls and buckets that dump water on the kids and a gently sloping walk-in and a "deep" end of only about 3.5 feet. It also has a really big waterslide. As in, you have to be 42" tall in order to get on it, and there are usually mostly teenagers and adults in line.

(Please forgive the crappy picture, it was taken on my not-an-iPhone. Hopefully you can see the big corkscrew slide in the back with 2 stories of stairs leading to the top.)

As we were paying to get into the pool, J saw a bunch of kids standing up against the little measuring line they have to determine if you're tall enough for the slide, and he went and stood against it like they had. "Good for you, you're big enough for the slide!" said the ticket lady, "come get a frog stamp for your hand so you can get on it." J, who had no idea what slide she was talking about, was more than happy to get a frog stamp, and we went in to the pool.

"Soooo," I said nonchalantly pointing at the slide. "Do you want to go on that?"

His immediate response? "Definitely NOT. It's too scary."

Which was fine by me. We splashed around the kids activity area for awhile, playing some involved game that J made up about rescuing dolphins and sharks from evil penguins (?). After an hour or so he started complaining of being hungry and thirsty so we stopped at the snack stand for an ice cream sandwich. Right next to the snack stand is the fenced-off lap pool and high diving boards, where people were taking turns diving -- some basically belly-flopping, and some doing really impressive somersaults and flips. For whatever reason, J was fascinated by this, so we ate our ice cream watching the diving pool, which also put us right in front of the splash down area for the slide. Out of nowhere, before he was even done with his ice cream, J stood up and said, "I wanna get on that slide." And he said it very seriously, the way one might say, "I think we need to talk," or, "There's something I have to tell you."

Sensing that if we didn't go immediately he would lose his nerve, I quickly threw away the ice cream, took J's hand, and we almost ran over to the stairs leading to the top. "You're really going to do this?" I asked. "Yep," he said. "You understand that we can't go together?" "Yep," he said. As were climbing, I thought for sure that once he realized how high we were going he would chicken out, but instead he seemed to get more and more excited, so I hammed it up, saying things like "This is going to be so much fun!" and "You're definitely a big kid now!" As we neared the entrance to the slide, I told him that I would go first so I could wait for him at the bottom, and I tried to give him a little instruction on how to handle the splash-down area, which we were told was 3.5 feet (remember--HE CAN'T SWIM). "When you go into the water at the bottom, try to POP! up to the top really fast and look for me." Right before I went down I told the lifeguard at the top that J had never done this before and couldn't swim, so if he chickened out and didn't want to do it I would look up there and the lifeguard would just wave at me to let me know to come back up for him.

So, down the slide I went. And about one second into it, I thought we'd made a mistake. You guys, this is a real waterslide. Fast, with 3 big corkscrews, with lots of sliding up onto the walls and a pretty decent splashdown at the bottom. I remember thinking, "There is no way J is going to do this." At the bottom, I waited. And waited. And looked up at the lifeguard to see if he was frantically waving -- nothing. Just as I was about to get out and go rescue J, I heard him coming around the last turn, his voice echoing on the walls of the slide: "MOMMMEEEEEEEEE!!!" and then he came into view, half on his back, sideways, a look of sheer terror on his face. He shot out of the end of the slide, went under, and took so long coming back up that the lifeguard in the splash area got nervous and reached in, pulling him out by his arm. After sputtering for a few seconds J literally jumped into my arms and said, "I kept trying and trying and trying to POP! up but I got stuck under the water!!" (I have to admit, when he said that I kind of questioned my own judgement in letting my non-swimming kid do this, but then again I kind of believe in the old school thinking that the best way to learn to swim is to be thrown into the water and just have to do it. With close supervision, of course.)

"Did you have fun though?" I asked.

"YES!!" he said.

"Do you want to do it again?"

"NO!!" he said, firmly. Then he added, "Maybe next week we can do it again."

I'm not usually one to give bribes and rewards, but I was so proud at that moment, I felt it was definitely worth a new Hot Wheels car. So after a little more swimming--yes, he got back in the pool and swam around some more after that!--we packed up and made a little trip to Target.

Big boy, indeed.

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

2010-08-04T20:51:00.000-07:00

TH and I are in a little friendly weight-loss competition. We don't want to call it "The Biggest Loser" because that's taken and it's been waaaay overused at this point. So then we thought of "The Big Winner" but that seems cheesy. So I've settled on "Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner," an old phrase I've heard before but never really loved until hearing Guy Fieri say it on my favorite guilty pleasure Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives on FoodTV. We're weighing in weekly, and I'm keeping track of measurements -- TH doesn't want to do measurements because being a guy he wants his arms and chest to get bigger.

I don't really have time for Weight Watchers meetings right now so I'm doing the online program, which I don't love as much as the meetings but at least I can track what I'm eating pretty easily. As of right now I'm only about 10 pounds away from where I was 18 months ago before I knew I was pregnant with Jr. As I suspected, since I stopped breastfeeding a few weeks ago I finally got off the plateau I was on and it's also been easier to exercise. The hardest part right now is the frigging HEAT here in Vegas - we just had a record-breaking July with average NIGHT TIME temperatures of 97 degrees. So it's difficult finding a comfortable time to get out and run; I've found that around 5am is best but trying to get myself used to waking up that early has taken some time. Jr. usually makes it til around 4:30am before waking for a bottle, so now I've been making myself get up and get out of the house once he's back down, as soon as it's light enough for me to feel safe alone on the roads. I know. That's pretty early. But alot is at stake.

Which brings me to the Chicken Dinner part of this. In order to make things...interesting, TH and I have a little wager going on. Jr.'s first birthday is in exactly 8 weeks (gaaaah!! already??), and whoever loses the most weight by then is the winner. Of what, we're not sure yet. It has to be good. That's the first deadline. The second deadline, which is really just my own personal goal, is 2 years from now. Yep, I said 2 years. In two years, TH and I will have our 10th wedding anniversary. When we got married eight years ago, we were pretty much your typical broke newlyweds -- I was still in vet school with TH supporting us both on an entry-level salary. Long story short, we didn't go on a honeymoon. So my personal goal is (deep breath) to get into Bikini Shape in time for us to go somewhere beachy for our 10th anniversary/belated honeymoon. That may not sound like much to you, but here's the thing. I have never been in Bikini Shape in my life. Ever. Not when I was in high school, not when I was in my early 20s, never. I actually weigh less and look better now than I did 10 years ago when I was 23. So for me to wear a bikini would be HUGE.

Now I've put it out there, and I guess that means I've gotta see this thing through. In 8 weeks I fully expect to be collecting...something from TH as the Chicken Dinner Winner. In two years, I fully expect -- well, I fully hope -- to be wearing a bikini on a beach somewhere looking like the MILF my husband swears I am. I'll keep you posted...

His grandmother would be proud.

2010-08-01T21:28:00.000-07:00

On the way home from church today, J out of nowhere said, "Daddy, I need to see your Bible." Which he pronounces "Bobble" but I don't correct him because it's cute and makes me laugh. It was kind of a random request because although we've gone to church pretty regularly since J was an infant, we can never tell if he's actually understanding anything that goes on at church or what we're talking and singing and reading about.

"Why do you want my Bible?" TH said. "I want to see what it's about," J replied. TH handed him the Bible, a black leatherbound old-school Christ's-words-in-red King James Version (i.e. no pictures, really small words, thin pages), and J turned to the first page, and just...started reading. TH turned down the radio so we could listen, and J proceeded to read through almost the entire first chapter of Genesis before stopping and saying, "God made the light because when it was dark it was really creepy and scary so he made a flash of lightning so there would be light." Wow. I don't know why, but I got goosebumps listening to J read the Bible like that. He seemed so grown up, not like a 4-year-old at all. When we got home, I made him read it again just so I could get it on tape. (I mean, on memory card. Is that something that's going to give away the age of people in our generation, that we still say we're "taping" something? Anyway.)

I'm sure you're all getting sick of me going on about J's reading skills but I felt the need to brag this time, so here you have it, J reading the Bible. (He actually went on for quite awhile but that would be too boring even for me, his adoring mother.)

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

He's like his own little special interest group.

2010-07-26T12:59:00.000-07:00

We've been calling J Mr. Smooth lately because he's learned how to grease the wheels for himself, the power of persuasion. He's an expert at giving out strategically placed compliments, to the point where sometimes I wonder if he's being sincere -- is he just an innocent wide-eyed four-year-old making an innocent observation, or has he just figured out that if you smile and raise your eyebrows and say the right thing you can sometimes get what you want? Maybe his dad -- very much an old-fashioned southern gentleman who turns on the charm when he wants to -- has been coaching him.

For instance this weekend I went to the hair salon for a cut and blowout, something I do maybe 2-3 times a year. Whenever I come home from the salon TH whistles and calls me "Hollywood," and of course I spend the next few months unsuccessfully trying to recreate that hairstyle myself. So this time when I came in the door J ran up to me, looked at my hair, and stopped. "Whoa." he said. "Mommy, your hair looks really good. It's so beautiful. It makes you look so pretty." I was oddly flattered, and I gave him a big hug and said thank you. J must have noticed my reaction to his compliment because later when I was cooking dinner he randomly came up to me and said, "Mommy, your hair is the most beautiful. I really really really like it when you go to the hair place and you have it like that." "Gee, thanks again, sweetie," I said. Not five minutes later, he came up to me again and said, "Wow Mommy your hair is just so nice! It's just so beautiful and everything!" When I thanked him again, he actually said, "But you didn't hug me." Um, okay. So I hugged him again. Later, after dinner, J asked if we could go to Target and buy a Hot Wheels car. When I told him that it was time for bed and lectured that we can't go to Target and get a new car all the time, he said, totally apropos of nothing, "But I really like your hair!"

It's not just compliments. On Friday he ran into the house after school and pulled some kind of pipe cleaner, plastic bead, and glitter contraption out of his backpack, handed it to TH and said, "Daddy, I made this for you!" But when he noticed me watching from across the room he quickly snatched it from TH, came over and handed it to me and said, "Well, I made it for you, too Mommy, because you're soooooo pretty. Can I have some cookies?" I think this kid has a future in politics.

Just call him Hoover.

2010-07-19T09:52:00.001-07:00

So, as it turns out, I don't need to worry about Jr. being a picky eater like J. At least not yet. This boy loves to eat. Everything. We have yet to find something that he doesn't like -- no, scratch that -- we have yet to find something that he doesn't enthusiastically love and eat large amounts of even if it's the first time he's ever had it. I'm not sure if the homemade baby food made a difference. Because at this point baby food of any kind is a thing of the past. At 9.5 months Jr. wants to eat everything we eat, the less like baby food the better.

Bread. Pasta. Pizza. Yogurt and cheese. Any kind of fruit. Carrots. Sweet potatoes. Beans. Burritos. Tacos. Crackers. Cookies. Rice (real rice, not rice cereal). Oatmeal (real oatmeal with milk and brown sugar, not oatmeal baby cereal). Cinnamon raisin bread. BBQ pulled pork. Turkey chili. Grits. Cornbread. Tortillas. Cake and ice cream. Rotisserie chicken. I'm sure you're getting the picture...

Of course we're careful about how we introduce things and there are definitely still some stuff that's off limits (whole milk, peanut products, shellfish, choking hazards like grapes and hot dogs, etc.). It's funny because with J we were so much more strict about letting him eat stuff like ice cream and cookies. It's not that we let Jr. have alot of junk, but we're definitely much more relaxed about letting him have a little bit of whatever we're eating as long as it's within reason. It's interesting comparing the two boys' eating habits. Jr. already eats more than J, who continues to be a super picky eater who somehow manages to subsist on juice, cheerios, and sunshine (or so it seems some days). Last week TH and I finally hired the sitter so we could go out for his birthday, and we ordered a pizza for her and the kids. I told her it was ok for Jr. to have a little pizza crust. When we got home, she apologetically told us that Jr. seemed "really hungry" so she kept feeding him. I can't fault her for that because when Jr. is hungry he is HUNGRY and he makes the most godawful sound until you feed him something. My mom heard him making this particular noise one day while I was feeding him and talking to her on the phone and she said, "Well, that's an ugly sound." So now we call it That Ugly Thing. And if he's doing it, someone better feed him STAT. Anyhoo. The babysitter informed us that Jr. ate 2 full 3oz. containers of homemade pears and peaches, a WHOLE SLICE OF PIZZA with crust (sans toppings), a bowl of soft diced carrots, 1/2 a container of YoBaby yogurt, and "about 50 of those little puff things." Oh, yeah, and an 8oz bottle of formula about 30 minutes later. J, on the other hand, ate...about 1/3 slice of pizza ("mostly the pepperonis," she said) half an orange, and some milk.

Two things make Jr.'s eating habits kind of humorous. First, Jr. doesn't have a single tooth. Not so much as a swollen gum has appeared yet. Lord knows how much he'll be able to eat once he has something real to chew with. Second, Jr. is still a little thing compared to his brother at the same age. At his 9 month appointment 2 weeks ago he had only gaind 15 ounces since his previous visit 3 months before--less than a pound. His head circumference (minus the hair) and length are still tracking in the 50-75th percentile, but his weight is now in the 10th percentile. He has yet to clear 16.5 lbs, despite already eating us out of house and home. When J was 9 months old he was over 20lbs. I'll be amazed if Jr. is 18lbs on his first birthday (only 10 weeks away, can you believe it??).

Well, gotta run, Jr. is at my feet pulling on my pants doing That Ugly Thing, which will quickly turn into That Horrendous Earsplitting Yelling if I don't hustle downstairs and fix him a steak or something...

Caption Wednesday: Random Summer Stuff. (Let's face it, I couldn't be "wordless" if my life depended on it.)

2010-07-07T16:11:00.001-07:00

Here, little Jr. points out several areas where the babyproofing is severely lacking. For instance, did you know that babies this small can stand up in the tub and grab the faucet handle, like, really fast?

Hi Mommy! There's no way you'll whip these pictures out and show them to our girlfriends when we're 16, right? Right?

Finally! Beginning to see the advantage of having two kids: they play together like this for a few hours every day and I can actually get stuff done around the house. It is kind of sad, though, how Jr. doesn't really have any toys of his own--we've been so lazy about buying him stuff since he's perfectly content playing with his older brother's Hot Wheels and RC vehicles.

"Sigh...est si dur être un bébé parfois. Pourquoi suis-je pense en français? Je ne sais pas, le regard sur mon visage a appelé pour lui."

"Oh, hey there little Jr., I know the camera's on me so I'm pretending to be all nice and stuff and acting like I didn't just PUT MY HANDS ON EITHER SIDE OF YOUR HEAD AND PUSH YOU DOWN TO THE FLOOR like 2 minutes ago because you kept trying to touch my precious Cars Laptop..."

Yeah, yeah, it's unsafe, sparklers can kill people, blah blah blah. You're only young once. And I must admit, J usually acts really nervous/scared about this kind of stuff so I was actually proud on 4th of July when he was the only kid at the BBQ who would hold the sparklers.

Ah, little kids. Don't let this picture fool you. J did not put his face in the water (voluntarily) one single time at the pool but he INSISTED on wearing these goggles the whole time. 4 is my favorite age so far - everything is fascinating!

Seriously you guys, I know he's my kid and I'm biased but the girls are in so much trouble when this one gets older.

"Hellooooo, ladies..."

You know what they say, the higher the hair, the closer to God.

So that's the end of that.

2010-07-05T14:47:00.000-07:00

Breastfeeding. We're done with it.

Kind of.

After 9 sometimes-blissful, sometimes-torturous months, I'm throwing in the towel on nursing Jr. It's not that I don't love breastfeeding. I do...except for when I hate it. Ok maybe I don't hate breastfeeding, but I do hate pumping at work, and pumping after work, and pumping on the weekends, and anything having to do with pumping. I hate the act of it, and the constant stress of "not making enough." For whatever reason, first with J and now with Jr., I just don't make alot of milk. It's kind of strange, really, considering my, um, ample assets. I've gotten to the point where I have to pump 3-4 times a day on my work weeks just to make about 50% of what Jr. needs at daycare. I've been supplementing with formula for about 6 weeks, and it's still a huge struggle to eke out enough breastmilk to half-fill two 8oz bottles. And now that Jr. is eating solid foods really well and mobile, not only am I not able to keep up with the milk demand, but now it's a baby rodeo every time we go to nurse with him rolling and turning and upside down and trying to climb over my shoulder. I don't have the stamina or patience this time around to go through all the rigamorole I did with J at this stage to keep him nursing: nursing beads, hiding out in a dark room, laying down, etc.

I do feel a little bit guilty about it. Not because Jr. is all that attached to it, he's never been as much a boobie baby as J was and I think he could take it or leave it. I feel guilty because so far formula has been ALOT harder on Jr.'s body than it was on J the few weeks I supplemented with him. After almost 3 months we finally have the eczema somewhat under control, but if we so much as think about switching formula to a cheaper brand or something different he flares up immediately. On top of that, even with 50% breastmilk bottles he has horrendous constipation on formula. We're talking screaming and crying while he's passing rock-hard, sometimes bloody stool. Thank goodness he likes prunes.

There are some good things about not breastfeeding anymore. It's going to be alot easier and less time-consuming to just send a canister of formula to daycare with empty bottles for her to fill up, with far less washing/sterilizing/freezing on my end. I look forward to my boobs getting to a more normal size and not wearing nursing bras anymore, and being able to work out a little harder. I'm also pretty sure that once I'm done lactating it will be easier for me to lose weight; with J it seemed like my body held onto some extra fat while I was nursing that came off pretty quickly when he was weaned. And it will be nice to actually be able to take a break at work that isn't completely consumed by pumping.

There is some sadness about it, but not as much as I expected. We don't plan to have any more biological children, so I know that this is it for my breastfeeding experience. I will miss some of the little moments, the cuddling in the middle night, the sleepy milky smiles, Jr. bobbing his head on my chest like a little bird and reaching up to rub my cheek in the dark...

Whatever the case, we're not all the way done yet - we're still nursing at bedtime and if he wakes up at night, and first thing in the morning -- but the end is near. After last week I'm not taking the pump to work anymore, and I know from experience with J that once I stop pumping it may only be a matter of days before my milk dries up for good. Oh, well. On to the next thing.

My little nerdling.

2010-06-28T12:44:00.000-07:00

What I am about to say, I say with absolutely no derogatory intent or malice towards my own kid. It actually makes me kind of happy. Proud, even. Now that J is in school, TH and I have come to the realization that J might be...well...a nerd. Not in the Revenge of the Nerds, Pointdexter, pocket-protector and mouth-breathing sense. More in the "I'm smart and inquisitive and there is absolutely nothing I love more than reading and watching nature shows and going to school and if I'm not going to school, talking about going to school" kind of way.

Like me.

Remember I told you that J is a full-fledged reader now? Well, he has taken it to whole new levels. He goes to bed with books. Long books. And when I say "goes to bed" I don't mean we read a bedtime story and then he goes to sleep, I mean he begs and pleads to keep books in his bed for reading after lights out "if I wake up and I want to read something." He hides books under his pillow and down between the mattress and the wall, and I've caught him crouched by his window at night trying to take advantage of the sun being up until almost 9pm. The best part is that now he's taken to reading Jr. a "baby story" (one of his old board books) at bedtime, which is very cute and brotherly--once they're both in pj's they sit on the floor or in the rocking chair and J reads to him, mimicking all the inflections and voices TH and I used to use when we read J the same stories. I need to get it on video one of these days. We haven't really started chapter books yet but this weekend we're going to the library to see what we can find.

At school, the teacher told us that he is her "reading helper." He kept insisting on taking his own books to school even though they have plenty to read there, to the point where the teacher asked him one day to read the book to the whole class -- which he did. And apparently he does this every day. He sits in front of the class, with the other kids in a circle around him, and reads them a story. This amazes me on so many levels. I'm pretty outgoing now, but when I was a kid I was VERY shy and the thought of getting up and reading a book in front of the class would have been mortifying.

J loves school so much that on my days home with him, his favorite game to play is "School." I have to be the teacher, and he basically leads me through a typical school day: "Now it's time for Outdoor Play! Now we line up (lining up with, well, himself) to come back inside for Art Time. Now we eat a snack and then we have Dramatic Play." (I love the preschool with all their titles for every activity). We even make a lunch in the morning and put his lunchbox in the fridge. AND HE EATS IT. Whenever I have to pay attention to Jr. I tell J that I'm going into "the infant classroom" and while we're playing School J accepts that without argument. I'm telling you, this kid loves school. I asked him the other day what he wants to be when he grows up and he told me that he didn't know, "I just want to go to school all the time." He actually does a little dance when he looks at his calendar and sees that it's a school day. (Side note: J now has a big calendar on his bedroom door, the kind that teachers use on their bulletin boards. I bought it at the dollar store in the teacher supply section, along with little stick-ons for activities, the weather, etc. It's turned out to be so helpful when we're getting things ready the night before, he loves to look at the calendar and see if the next day is school or daycare or home or church, and when he has soccer practice, and what kind of clothes he should pick out. We even put special events on it like "Pizza for dinner" or "Go to the mall to buy shoes." As it turns out, J has another nerd quality like me - a love of organization and lists.)

I know J is not really a "nerd." He also loves to play outside and run and jump and kick things. I get the feeling that once he discovers things like chemistry sets and spelling bees and math competition, though, his true nerd tendencies are going to shine. Oh well, I'm a huge nerd and it's worked for me so far...

Photo Wednesday - All in a Summer's Day

2010-06-16T08:17:00.001-07:00

I love this picture. I make no claims to be a photographer and I wish that I could "dress up" the photo a little more, but it's the moment that I love. This was taken yesterday evening around 6pm, while I was getting dinner ready. This really captures J at this age -- bone-tired from telling me "I'm not ever sleepy anymore Mommy" at naptime. Still wearing his swimsuit from running out and jumping in the wading pool every hour or so all day. Nice summer tan. Asleep with his Trio building block thingy that he got for Christmas and completely ignored until this past week when I've been making him spend an hour every day alone in his room for Quiet Time, and he's suddenly "discovered" all these toys that he forgot he had. This creation is a "robot building." And the kicker--he fell asleep like that watching the Michael Jackson "Beat It" video over and over again. It's little details like these I know I'll forget over the years when I see these photos but I hope I can hold on to memories of J in the summer he was 4...

Random Monday

2010-06-14T08:09:00.000-07:00

After working ridiculously hard for a couple of weeks, I'm now in the middle of what I guess you'd call my Summer Vacation, and it has been soooooo needed. TH took this week off with me so we're having a little Staycation here in Vegas -- not sure what we're going to do but we're thinking maybe a night with the kids at a Strip hotel...as long as it has a pool we'll be happy. That's one of the major downsides of living in LV, after awhile it's not exciting to "go to Vegas" anymore, we hardly ever even drive down the Strip and it's been a good 5 years since we actually stayed in a hotel down there. We just realized the other day that J has never seen the Strip at night (unless we're driving past it on the highway) or stuff like the fountains at Bellagio, so this should be a good time.

Speaking of pools...I really wish we had one. I mean, besides the little 4ft diameter kiddie pool J "swims" in every day. I know that if we had a pool I'd always be nervous about safety with the kids, but these Vegas summers are killer - we've already hit 110 degrees and it's not even July. This weekend I did come up with the genius idea of putting J's pool at the bottom of his plastic slide/climber so he could splash down while I held the hose over the slide to make a "waterfall." It was alot of fun...for him LOL.

I didn't get on board with the whole "500 in 2010" thing because I knew it was entirely unrealistic for me this year. However I have been back on Weight Watchers and trying to get back into running. It's been a sloooooow progression with slooooooow weight loss. I get the feeling that breastfeeding is a major obstacle - it seems like no matter what I'm doing, my body wants/needs to hang onto a little padding while I'm BFing. Which is fine, I get the feeling we're winding down on that anyway.

Speaking of boobs :) - Can anyone recommend a good store/website/catalogue where someone who is, um, well-endowed can get a GOOD running bra? This is another obstacle that I've never been able to figure out - when I'm not pregnant/nursing I'm well into a DD cup, and right now we're in E/F territory. Usually I put on 2 bras and hope for the best but I was hoping someone had a better idea...I'm willing to spend $$$ if I can find a truly supportive jog bra.

I've been reading other posts about doing a TV detox - and I realized that I'm probably the only person on earth who has never seen Lost, 24, Desperate Housewives, The Bachelor, Survivor, How I Met Your Mother, Mad Men, or any number of "hit" TV shows. Where the hell have I been? I couldn't tell you. So You Think You Can Dance, however -- THAT I'm all over. There's no way I could not watch SYTYCD.

Jr. is crawling, pulling up, and occasionally standing by himself (!!!). It's kind of disconcerting to watch because he's still on the small side, still wearing 3/6 month onesies. I actually like him being mobile...except for the middle of the night where he's doing the whole "I have new skills so I must try them out at 1am and then get stuck" routine. Ah, babies.

I was also inspired by other bloggers to rent The Empire Strikes Back for J to watch this weekend (we have the original trilogy of course...on VHS. And we no longer have a VCR.). WOW did he love that movie!! Next on the list of movies from my childhood that I feverishly hope I can watch with my kids: Goonies.

Speaking of teaching your kid to like the things you used to like...J is waaaaay into Michael Jackson right now. We listen to the Thriller album in the car pretty much every day. He knows all of the songs and requests his favorites. TH also has him hooked on the "Michael Jackson: Number Ones" DVD (all of the good MJ videos, it's actually pretty fun to watch). This is funny to me because although I was a fan of MJ like everyone else, TH is what you'd call a Superfan. I've only seen him cry a handful of times in the almost 20 years I've known him...one of those times being when MJ died last year. TH is kind of shy but if you get him drunk at a party and play "Thriller" or "Beat It" he will do the entire choreography, from beginning to end. I kid you not. How it warms my heart to see father and son bonding while watching the "Rock With You" video...

Handle with care, both ends are hot.

2010-06-07T15:00:00.000-07:00

You ever heard the phrase "burning the candle at both ends?" If ever there was a good description of my last two weeks, that would be it. I worked 11 of the past 14 days. I know, that sounds like a normal schedule, but believe me that's packing in alot of working time. We're talking on average 12 hour days, a few of them even longer.

I think I've mentioned on this blog my interesting work schedule. Our clinic is run as a one-doctor practice with two doctors job-sharing so that we both still work full-time hours. Huh? Basically we each work a full 6 day week (50-60 hours) and then have a week off, alternating with each other. Now, I normally do not complain about this setup. It's not common, and as far as spending time with my kids and cutting down on childcare costs, it's ridiculously good. I don't know that I could ever find another job situation like this, especially in veterinary medicine.

However.

There are a couple of major drawbacks to this type of schedule. If one of us doctors ever wants/needs time off that doesn't fall on our scheduled off week, we have to rearrange the whole schedule months in advance and we usually each end up working several consecutive weeks, which is what happened this past month. Again, you're probably thinking you and everyone else on earth, sweetie, and you'd be right. But boy, is it tiring being the only doctor for long stretches of time. Having a one-doctor practice means that anything that comes in the door has to be seen by me. Routine care. Emergencies. Surgeries. Walk-ins. During an "on" week I normally get to work around 7:45am (after dropping kids at daycare) and if it's a busy day, I rarely leave before 6:30pm. If it's a really busy day like we've had lately, I'm working that entire day with no lunch, just two short breaks to pump and I scarf down a salad or something in between appointments and procedures. Last week, I came home 3 days out of 6 after the kids were in bed, one night not making it in until almost 10pm because of an emergency surgery -- is there a reason that I have never cut an emergency surgery at 10am? How do these animals only get themselves into trouble after their owners get home from work, I'll never know...

Anyway, enough belly-aching. I do actually love my job, but I'm glad to have some time off this week because I could feel myself burning out by the end of a 14-day stretch. Nothing's perfect, I guess.

***

In other news, J is a full-fledged reader now. Really reading, not just regurgitating books that he's memorized, and reading big words at that. Just like me when I was a kid, now that he knows how to read, he's noticing words everywhere and he always has to have something to read in front of him. At breakfast he "needs" a cereal box to read the back of. He takes books into the car, even if we're only going a short distance. If he doesn't have a book, he reads all of the street signs, surprising me with how many words he can recognize or figure out -- "That says Windmill Street!" or "That store sign says 'Ask about our specials.'" He knows our first names and so now he goes to the mailbox with me and sorts the mail into piles for me, TH, and himself (junk mail). He reads the CNN crawl on the bottom of the screen even though he has no idea what he's reading -- "Why does that say, 'Obama visits Gulf for second time'?" (Seriously, he read that, I was floored.) Last week he took one of his more complicated books to school, one intended for 6 yrs and up, and he was reading so well that his teacher asked him to read the whole book to the class, which amazingly he did.

What's interesting is that he doesn't write anything. He can make a few rudimentary letters and numbers, and likes to draw big backwards J's on everything, but if I try to get him to practice writing his whole name (which he's been able to spell and recognize for almost a year) he gets frustrated immediately and won't pick the pencil up. He's even told me that "all the other kids at preschool are good drawers and write better than me" but he still doesn't want to do it. I'm not sure how to encourage him to write, maybe I should ask his teacher?

Road Trippin'. In bullet points.

2010-05-20T21:05:00.000-07:00

Despite the little setbacks and annoying moments, I still say that spending hours in the car with the kids HANDS DOWN beats spending hours at an airport/on a plane with the kids. At least on a road trip you can stop whenever you need to. For instance if you have a four-year-old who has to pee every time you're about 5 miles from FRICKING NOWHERE.

"Rented Car Console Road Trip Detritus: A Still Life"

Speaking of annoying moments. I'm not sure what the Geneva Convention has to say about it but I'm pretty sure that listening to one kid fuss/cry loudly as another kid whines incessantly while you're enclosed in a small space like a car is a waaaaaay more effective torture method than waterboarding could ever be.

Oh, portable DVD player, what would we do without you...

Speaking of setbacks. The $90 that we randomly spent for one night at a Best Western in Cedar City, Utah when the kids were torturing us as above and we realized that it was after dark and we still had AT LEAST THREE MORE HOURS until we were back in Vegas? BEST MONEY WE EVER SPENT.

Chillin at the random motel.

So apparently a certain small someone cannot be trusted on a bed or other elevated surface anymore because a certain small someone learned how to crawl overnight while we were on this trip.

Amazingly as soon as we got to Denver Jr. stopped itching and had absolutely no allergy symptoms while we were there. The very first night we were back home he scratched the crap out of his face and his eczema flared up. File that under "Yet Another Reason We Need to Stop Jacking Around and Just Move Back to Colorado, Already." (And before you say, "Maybe it's your cats!" my sister also has pets. It's not the cats.)

It really is a nice city.

You want to be an effing Rock Star the next time you see your out-of-state nieces and nephews? Bring a puppy with you as a surprise. (Don't worry, their mother knew about it.)

Look what we brought! A puppy! TOP THAT.

After a week of dwindling pumping output and Jr. being increasingly annoying at the breast (i.e. only nursing for 30 seconds at a time while kicking me in the stomach and pinching me), I thought that while were on the trip we were going to Stop Nursing Forever. Until he had an apparent reaction to the formula and suddenly was interesting in nursing normally again. So now we're back to Begrudgingly Still Breastfeeding. For now.

Speaking of decreased milk supply. PPAF. Totally unexpected. Therefore I was totally unprepared. Thus we were totally late to my sister's graduation ceremony (the whole reason for the trip, she got her Master's degree) because we had to make an emergency WalMart run. Oh, what a lovely 18 months without you, AF...

You want to feel old? Go visit your old college campus and GET LOST trying to find the student union because there are so many new buildings and all your old landmarks are gone. Then try to track down one of your favorite professors who was a mentor only to be told that he retired "like 5 years ago."

My old dorm, Sewall Hall. Still one of the loveliest campuses there is.

Running around at the student union (CU Boulder).

Garden of the Gods. If you've never been, it's sooooo worth a visit. Just look at this:

I can't believe I'm about to write this. After renting one and driving it all over hill and dale and back again...I kind of maybe sorta want a minivan now. A MINIVAN. What has become of me...

And finally, how many shots does it take to get The Perfect Family Photo in the Mountains? I don't know, we never got it.

Perfect! Now just look at the right *&$@ camera.

Closer...

Nope.

Obviously not.

There's always one joker in the bunch...

Photo Friday - 4th Birthday Party

2010-05-07T14:53:00.001-07:00

The Theme: Hot Wheels (what else?)

A friend who's been to all of J's birthday parties commented about our "big" party every year "Wow, he is so spoiled." Whatev. My mom did it for us even when we were broke (one year she made decorations out of a packet of construction paper). It's once a year, get over it, if you can't spoil them on their birthday when can you?

This year's masterpieces LOL. Time spent making and tinting frosting: about 30 minutes. Time spent decorating the cupcakes and "giant"cupcake: about 30 minutes. Total cost including decorations: Maybe $12. I'll never buy another birthday cake from a bakery again.

Do these things ever get old? We briefly considered not getting one but we got a "hook-up" (i.e. dirt cheap) and without the jumpy...what else would we do? Play games or something? I couldn't wait for the kids to leave so I could get in it - TH took pictures of me jumping in there that will never see the light of day because I made the hugely unfortunate decision to wear white linen pants to a kids birthday party. You can imagine.

For once we look just alike, people usually say he favors TH. I love these visors as opposed to actual party hats.

Having a ridiculously good time with his best friend K. Seriously at one point they were running around and J was clutching his face saying, "I'm just so...EXCITED!!"

Bittersweet moment. First year I haven't had to hold him up to the candles and walk him through it. He was so grown up, and I kept thinking, "This year's party is one he'll actually remember 20 years from now." After looking at this picture I also thought, "When will I learn to put on some frigging Spanx if I'm going to wear a 'tissue-thin' t-shirt..."

Happy. Tired. Blessed.

And then he was four.

2010-05-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

Dear J,

Every year I think I'm not going to be wistful and nostalgic and kind of bittersweet at your birthday, and every year my heart is squeezed a little bit more thinking about how quickly you're growing up. Today is your 4th birthday. It feels like a big one, for some reason, and we can tell that it's big to you, too, because you have been arguing with us that "Yes I AM four already!!" for a few weeks now. You're not a baby anymore, you're not a toddler...you're officially a Little Kid.

Little Kids like you run, and jump, and turn in circles until you're "bizzy," and purposely slide in your socks on the tile floor, and do herky-jerky Little Kid dance moves (cute), and run up behind me and punch me in the rear end with both fists shouting "BOOTY!!" (not so cute), and try to jump down into the living from higher and higher up the steps (downright scary).

Little Kids like you can turn on the computer, boot up the "Kids" user (password and all), navigate to your favorite website, and look like a little gamer playing Team UmiZoomi and Curious George games. You pretend to play Madden Football with Daddy on the PS3, telling him which plays to pick and shouting funny things like, "Get that guy! Throw the football at his head!" This is the first year where we've had to limit your computer use because you are so good at it and already addicted to the screen (a little like your mommy).

Little Kids like you suddenly started really reading a few months ago, pointing out a headline on the newspaper I was reading and saying, "Hey! That says the word 'explore!' And that says the word 'cars!'" It was like the scene from The Miracle Worker; I could almost see the wheels turning in your head as you realized that you could recognize words without us telling you what they said. And like me, you are a voracious reader - you're so happy to get new books, and I often find you sitting in the PBK chair in your room reading out loud to yourself and sounding out the words you don't know. I can't tell you how proud I am that you like reading.

Little Kids like you are obsessed with numbers, to the point where our friends have started to call you "Rain Man." You've memorized the numbers on the houses of all of your friends and daycare and even the office manager at my job whose house you only went to TWICE for a Christmas party and to pick up some supplies. One day you told me you saw a car like Daddy's but you knew it wasn't Daddy's "because it has a different number on it," and then you proceeded to tell me the license plate numbers of both of our cars. You have over 100 Hot Wheels cars, and ever since the day you noticed that alot of them have racing numbers on the side you've started identifying them by the number: "Where's my 40 car? I made a bridge for the 59 car. Mommy, I need a 31 car to go with my 30 car." When we listen to music while we're driving somewhere you've memorized the track numbers to all of your favorite songs, to the point where now I know which song you mean when you tell me "I want to hear Mickey Mouse 21."

Little Kids like you are sweet, and kind, and still generous with affection for Mommy and Daddy. You tell me all the time that you love me, or that you missed me during the day, or that you love your little brother. The more things you learn to say, the more I love listening to you.

Happy Birthday, J! I get the feeling Four is going to be a great year.

Love, Mommy

Thanks, I feel alot better now :)

2010-04-25T13:01:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone for your confessions--I mean, responses--to my post last week about trying to be a supermom. I find it very funny that everyone uses outside help in some form -- why has this never really occurred to me? We've considered hiring a cleaning service before but I always thought of it as extravagant and a little lazy. I think I just need to train myself to think differently - because TH and I both grew up in lower-class families with single mothers, it's hard for us to accept that it's okay to pay someone else to do things like clean the house or help with the kids. So after a long talk with TH about what things cause us (me, mostly LOL) stress in our daily life, we've made a few plans over the weekend that should help alot:

We interviewed a cleaning lady and we're going to start with every other week service. I was pretty surprised at how affordable it is; somehow I thought this was really expensive. Now I can't wait until she starts - the only downer is that she can't start until next week, AFTER J's birthday party.
We finally got our act together with the whole preschool thing - meaning J finally got called up from a waitlist he's been of for the past 3 months for a school that is perfect for everyone - it's convenient to our jobs, it's affordable, the curriculum is great, the facility is beautiful, J loved the setting when we visited, etc. He's going to go 3 days a week at first and then in the fall we'll probably go to 5 days a week.
I signed up for a glass art class through our local rec center. Before having kids I spent alot of my down time drawing, painting, and crafting. Before Jr. was born I imagined that the 3rd bedroom would eventually become my studio/craft space...alas, now it's a nursery. As life has gotten busier I've really gotten away from that creative outlet and I think it will be so helpful for me to learn a new medium as well as (let's face it) have a night away from the kids once a week. I can't wait!
TH and I hammered out a tentative schedule that allows me to work out more regularly. Hopefully once we have the cleaning service some of the time I usually spend after the kids go to bed doing "chores" can be devoted to burning some calories. We'll see about this one, Jr. is literally exhausting me/us right now with illness and allergies and waking up 8 times a night (I wish I was joking) so the whole working out thing may have to wait.
I'm going to work on meal planning. The baby is the easiest one right now - making the baby food has turned out to be way easier and much more convenient than I thought it would be, one Sunday afternoon of steaming & straining veggies makes enough food to last him almost a month. I wish that were true for the rest of us but I'm going to keep working on it...

Okay, supermoms, 'fess up. How do you do it?

2010-04-19T21:42:00.001-07:00

Laundry.

My archenemy, my nemesis, the bane of my existence. Piled up all over the house - clean grown-up clothes unfolded in baskets by the washer, clean baby clothes in a pile on the ottoman next to my bed, dirty kids clothes overflowing the hamper in J's room, a dry-cleaning drop-off bag slung over the bottom newel post where "somebody" hung it LAST WEEK "to go with me on my way to work." Half of my work clothes pretty much live in the clothes basket; by the time I get done putting them away I have a new load or two in the hamper waiting to be washed. This is one of those areas that for some unfathomable reason has become alot harder to stay on top of since having Jr. I'm not sure why, it's not like he makes alot of laundry by himself. Well, actually, being an infant I guess he does make a good amount of laundry but it doesn't seem like it should add that much to my workload. But as soon as I get a good flow going with the laundry, usually on a Saturday, Jr. will wake up from a nap or decide to be extra-clingy or J will need me to play with him and I'll have to abandon whatever I'm folding...and somehow not get back to it until days later.

It's a symptom of my whole house right now. The laundry. The dishes. The ever-spotted ceramic tile floor and grout that will never look clean no matter what I do. The cat hair on the stairs (who has time to vacuum the stairs on a regular basis?). The hard water stained shower doors. The papers piled up on the kitchen island patiently waiting to be shredded. All those little things that I notice when I scan every room in my house, the perpetual "to-do" list that never quite seems to get done. I know, I know, it's not really all that bad and I could have way worse problems, but I just can't seem to figure out how to keep my house at the level I'm most comfortable with (i.e. spotless) without going crazy or exhausting myself. Because it's not possible, of course. TH keeps telling me this (he's probably sick of me looking around and sighing melodramatically about what I perceive to be a mess), and I try to tell myself, but I REALLY want to know the secret!! I don't want to be a "slacker" mom! I'm a lot more comfortable riding in the supermom lane, thankyouverymuch. I get the feeling from reading other people's blogs and posts (probably my first mistake) that online, anyway, I'm in the presence of a few supermoms. And I want to know, how do you do it? How do you keep your house clean and your kids fed healthy homemade meals and your body in shape and your bills paid and BLOG for God's sake...and sleep, too? What is the secret?

Haha I'm kind of joking, but really. Any tips would be appreciated. Our schedule is fairly hectic on workdays, and I just can't seem to figure out how to do things without feeling like a hamster in a wheel, running at top speed and going nowhere. Recipes that can be made on the weekend and easily put together during the week (and of course not fattening LOL let's make it as complicated as possible)...tips for quickly getting kids dressed and out the door without yelling and dragging and threatening to take away Hot Wheels cars...a beauty regimen that only takes 3.5 minutes in the morning (is there a magic product out there that miraculously straightens curly hair while you're sleeping?)...a way to clean and pack bottles & daycare bags while simultaneously running on the treadmill and paying bills online...and yes, a way to wash and fold several loads of laundry during a 2 hour nap...I'm all ears.

Jr. at 6 months

2010-04-08T21:09:00.000-07:00

'Jr.

Jr. is our little guy. He's so much smaller than J was. At 6 months J was a good 20 lbs, and his nickname as a baby was "Bam Bam" because he looked like a little linebacker (which is funny now because ever since he started walking he's gotten progressively taller and skinnier--we joke that when he has his clothes off he looks like a lollipop.) Jr., however, seems tiny in comparison. At his 6 month appointment yesterday he was a whopping 15.5 lbs, only gaining a pound in the last 2 months. I can still put 3 month size onesies on him easily. The other day he was wearing a hand-me-down outfit...that J wore when he was 8 weeks old.

Despite being little, Jr. is turning out to be our "good" eater. After the little nursing strike that caused me all that grief a few months ago, he has returned to nursing like a champ -- i.e. all day and unfortunately still, all night. We introduced solids about a month ago (and yes, I'm making the baby food as promised), and so far he likes everything -- sweet potatoes, carrots, peas, green beans, squash, applesauce, oatmeal...you name it he'll eat a good amount of it. This week he was eyeing me eating homemade garlic mashed potatoes so I gave him some, and he scarfed down half of what I had on my plate.

Jr. is our feisty baby. When he wants to be (which is most of the time), he's LOUD. He "talks" nonstop, and yells, and screams, and fusses at the top of his lungs. When he's done with being in the exersaucer/swing/bouncy seat/etc. he is DONE, and he lets you know. As TH says, "he goes from 0 to 60 in 3 seconds." So true. He goes to the same daycare that J has been attending since he was 5 months old. Every day, the infants get a report that has their mood for the day circled: Happy, Playful, Fussy, or Tired. When J was a baby every single day "happy" and "playful" were circled. He never had "fussy," ever. Jr., however, every single day has "happy," "playful" and "fussy" circled. Which sums him up. When he's happy, he's exuberant, belly laughing and smiling so hard his eyes are almost squeezed shut. When he's having his daily fussy period, look out.

Jr. may be small, but he's strong. We have to watch out we've already had a few incidents of him almost pulling things over on himself. Although he isn't crawling yet, if he's close enough to grab something he will, and with a death grip that I've had to unpry with both hands. Yesterday his pediatrician attempted to show me a little trick for releasing a baby's grip when Jr. wouldn't let go of his stethoscope...and the nurse had to help him. When we were at the playground last week, on a whim I held Jr. up to the monkey bars and he grabbed them with both hands, and when I let go for a second that little baby actually hung on and starting pulling himself into a chinup. It was hilarious. I get the feeling that he's going to be mobile much sooner than J was - he's already rolling and scooting all over the house and almost sitting up unsupported.

Jr. is beautiful. I know that I'm his mother and I'm biased, but I stand by my assessment. I've taken countless pictures of him sleeping because when his eyes are closed and he's got the "sleep smile" he looks to me like a cherubic little angel, like something out of an old painting. He has gorgeous liquid brown eyes like his brother, and a pile of thick curls on top of his head that everyone comments on. I love the color of his caramel skin, and how he has a perfect little mouth. I could just eat him up!

Jr. is a mama's boy, much to my delight. He lights up when I come into the room, grabbing my face (and almost twisting it off with his little deathgrip) and slobbering on me. If he's across the room his eyes will follow me as I walk around, and all I have to do is stop and say, "I see you, Littleness!" (our nickname) and he breaks out into a huge grin. I've been blessed to be able to spend more time at home with him than I got with J thanks to my week on, week off schedule, and it shows. Sometimes at night he cries out and all I have to is pick him up and he lays his head on my shoulder with a big sigh, and goes right back to sleep.

Of course that's not what always happens, because Jr. is also our Bad Sleeper. At night, anyway. J was our Horrible Napper, with 20 minute catnaps all day until he was around 8 months old. Thankfully Jr. can be counted on to take at least 1-2 long naps during the day with no problem, but at night all hell breaks loose. A good night is if he only wakes up 2 times. Most nights are not that good. Some nights are ridiculously worse - yesterday thanks to teething (I think) I didn't get to sleep until 2am because he was up almost every hour, and then once I did finally fall alseep he was up again at 5am. We've half-heartedly tried some sleep training, but the problem isn't falling asleep on his own at the beginning of the night, it's STAYING asleep once he's down. I'm trying to hold out on the "real" cry it out stuff until he's around 9 months, when I'll feel a little more comfortable that he doesn't really need to nurse, but we may not last that long.

Jr. already idolizes his big brother. The one person in this house that can be counted on to ALWAYS make Jr. smile or laugh is J. I have never heard a baby laugh as hard as Jr. does when J does a silly little dance in front of his high chair. He's a mama's boy, but J is the first person that we saw him actually reach his arms out for, which he does whenever J walks by. If J is really upset and crying, Jr. will start crying, too. I can see the downside, though--I've noticed that Jr. also finds it hilarious when J is being naughty -- jumping off the back of the couch, chasing the cats, throwing things inside the house, running in and out of time-out doing his whole "You can't catch me I'm the gingerbread man" routine. I'm doomed once they're able to double-team me.

This past 6 months has been the fastest of my life, it seems. Adjusting to having 2 kids has had its moments, but I still feel like this transition was alot easier for me the second time around. I'm much more confident in myself as a parent, especially because TH has had to travel quite a bit and I've spent alot of time handling things by myself. These kids are growing like weeds, and while I raise my voice on a daily basis more than I care to admit, I also wish we could slow things down and savor the time when our children are this small. With all of the gloom and doom I've been posting here lately, I've been neglecting to use this blog as a virtual baby book which was one of the reasons I started it. For every sad moment we've had over the past few weeks, the kids have given us lots of reasons to smile, and Jr. has continued to grow into another fantastic little boy that we're so blessed to have in our lives.

I leave you with a shameless baby video taken a few days ago. I think this one captures how stinkin' cute Jr. is, and also his feisty personality.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Hard to wrap my mind around it.

2010-04-05T12:59:00.000-07:00

Oh, what a strange, sad, stressful few weeks it's been. I know I've been completely neglecting this blog, because so much has been going on. It's funny because I have ALOT of thoughts about everything, but no time or patience to sit down and put my thoughts into words. I've tried to sit down and write this post four times now, but my mind just doesn't seem to be able to do it.

TH's mother passed away a week ago, following a long slow progressive illness that suddenly worsened at the beginning of March. In some ways I guess you could say we "knew" this day was coming -- we knew it was coming a few weeks ago when the doctor called from the hospital in Georgia and told TH, "If this was my mother, I would come down here immediately." We knew it was coming a few months ago when we went home for Thanksgiving and TH's mom was hospitalized the entire time (10 days), discharged on Thanksgiving Day. We knew it was coming almost 8 years ago, the day after our wedding, when she first had signs of a heart problem and spent the day in the ER with mild chest pains and a swollen arm.

Knowing it's coming, and actually facing it when the time finally does come are two different things.

It's so weird to think that we're getting to the age where it's surprising, but not completely unheard of, to lose a parent. It's so weird to think that our kids are only almost-4 and 6 months old and one of their grandparents is already gone. I've known TH since high school, so it's weird to think that I'll never talk to his mother again, someone I've known for almost 20 years. It's unbelievably hard for me to wrap my mind around, so I can only imagine what TH is going through.

Losing TH's mom has made us think alot about our own mortality. It's a huge reminder that we're not going to be here forever. What is like, to say goodbye to your children? To hold your new grandbaby and know that you'll likely never see that child grow up? Jr. only met his grandmother once, in the hospital at Thanksgiving, when he was 8 weeks old. J knows who she is, he talked to her on the phone almost every day, but eventually those memories will fade. That's what is really hard, realizing that someone who had so much influence on our lives will be completely unknown to our children. It's funny how you don't understand until you're a parent that your own parents had whole entire lives before you were born that you didn't know anything about and that had nothing to do with you. It's just sad to think that our kids' grandmother is part of the life that they'll never know, a person they'll hear alot about but never experience.

We've also been faced with trying to explain this whole situation to J. Unfortunately we already had to start this conversation with him when TH's grandmother died in December. (What a terrible year for TH's family, grandmother and mother just 3 months apart.) It's so hard to know what J understands. He knows who his grandmother was, but he doesn't quite get what her relationship was to TH, and looks confused when we say that "Daddy is sad because he'll never see his mommy again." He keeps asking questions that are impossible to answer. Why did she get sick? Why did she die? Where did she go? When will we see her again? The other day he was playing with his Little People airport and told me that the people on the plane were "going down to Georgia because their grandmas died a little bit." I hate to think that because of TH being away alot the last couple of months, J now associates going on the plane with someone dying or going to a funeral.

This is the dark part of life, I guess. We just thought that we would be lucky and have alot more years before we'd have to say goodbye to one of our parents...

In a few years he's going to kill me for putting this on the blog.

2010-03-26T22:44:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a little while because there's some rather heavy stuff going on in our family, resulting in TH being out of town for the last 10 days (and counting) and me doing the "single mom" thing until he gets back. But I had to make time to sit down and record this little gem just in case I need a really good embarassing story later.

Scene: bedtime tonight. Normally when TH is here we each take one kid - he usually handles J's bath/PJ's/brush teeth and I bathe/dress/nurse the baby. While he's out of town, however, this is a bit impossible, so since this is my off week I've been bathing Jr. during the day (I wish I could do this on work weeks too but alas...I'm at work) and bathing J at night. Seeing as how he's almost four, I've been allowing J to bathe "by himself" while I get the baby changed and dressed -- i.e. I fill the tub and do the bubbles, he gets in and splashes around (and presumably cleans himself) while I'm in the baby's room across the hall where I can see him, I come back in, double check that he's clean and help him get out and get dressed. Then they both get a story in J's room, he goes to bed, and I commence the nightly nursing/rocking/supposedly laying Jr. down "sleepy but awake" routine.

So tonight I'm in Jr.'s room getting him ready for bed and I can hear J splashing happily away in the tub. A couple of weeks ago I bought him these foam rubber letters/numbers that stick to the wall and sides of the tub:

Disclaimer: This is not really me and J. I don't usually have hair and makeup done for bathtime.

J has been obsessed with taking a bath every night just so he can play with these things. After a few minutes the splashing stopped and I could hear J saying things like "Get off of there" and making this annoying whining sound that he does when he's frustrated with a game or something. "What's the problem?" I called out. "Um....nothing!" he said. Sensing that there was a little more than "nothing" going on, I went into the bathroom to investigate.

As it turns out, a certain almost-4-year-old had discovered that the 6's and 9's of his letter/number set have little holes in the center. And this certain someone ascertained that the little hole was about the same size as a certain...body part that only little boys have. And that certain body part was shoved through the hole in the center of the 9 (or maybe it was a 6) and he couldn't get it back out, because as J learned the hard way, the little hole in the 9 is actually a bit smaller than the certain body part. So I come in to find him standing up in the tub with a bright orange 9 (or maybe a 6) hanging off of his...body part. After laughing my ass off, we proceeded to have one of those parenting scenes that you really never could come up with in your wildest imagination. That thing was really stuck. I tried um, tugging, with no success. Then I thought maybe I could rip the number in half, and discovered that foam-rubber is much tougher than it looks. I briefly considered trying to cut it off--the 9, not the...body part--but even with my surgery skills I'm a bit squeamish thinking about putting scissors near that area. Maybe if TH had been there he'd have had a better idea since, you know, he also has one of those...body parts. Eventually it occurred to me that we were in the bathroom with the soap and lotion...

Let's just say we got it unstuck. Can you imagine if we hadn't, and I'd had to go to the ER with both kids and THAT problem?? It would have made someone's night, that's for sure.

I'm so vain, you probably think this post is about me.

2010-03-15T09:45:00.000-07:00

I really wish that I could stop obsessing about my weight. I'm sure that other people around me (i.e. TH) also have the same wish. I don't know why the whole weight issue has been so much harder for me with this second baby than it was after I had J. Well, ok, I know some of the reasons why.

I have never been "skinny." Never. I don't think I've ever even qualified as "thin." At my smallest, when I was the head cheerleader in high school and looked (in my humble opinion) freakin' fantastic -- I was a size 12/14. So always squarely in the "curvy" category. (TH likes to use the term "thick," which he thinks is a complement but I don't know any woman alive who would get happy about a man calling her "thick.") I was very active with sports and activities, and I had plenty of um, male attention, so it never bothered me that I was technically "plus-sized" back then. I never really felt overweight until I started college. I went to a school with one of the fittest student populations in the U.S. (Boulder has been named America's "healthiest city" several times), and there, I was definitely not the average. The dorm I lived in was RAMPANT with girls who had eating disorders - I'm not kidding, I remember one time I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and two girls came in and I could hear BOTH of them vomiting in stalls behind me and then they just walked out gossiping like it was nothing. Everyone was always obsessing about how fat their legs were or how many calories were in the pasta or how many hours they planned on spending at the gym. It was a whole new world for me. Not only were me, my twin sister, and my roommate the ONLY black girls in the entire dorm, we were also the "thickest." I was so petrified of gaining the Freshman Fifteen that I started obsessing right along with the rest of them, worrying about how fattening every item on the salad bar was and going to rec center to work out in the middle of the night, especially if I'd "slipped up" and had pizza or something. I actually lost a little weight my freshman year, a fact which made me insanely proud. By the end of my undergrad career 5 years later, however, I had gained a bit of weight but still felt active and healthy so it didn't concern me much.

After TH and I got married between my 2nd and 3rd years of vet school, I completely stopped caring about how much I weighed. We were having so much fun - I was always trying different recipes that were heavy on oil and butter, we drank lots of wine, we ate out a lot. Between the grueling vet school schedule, late nights at the teaching hospital, and being a newlywed, working out was put completely on a back burner. It got so much worse when we moved to Vegas right after I graduated - if ever there was a city that is geared towards excess, it's Sin City. After a year of buffets, drinking at nightclubs after work, and still eating out a lot (it was so easy when it was just the two of us), I realized that I was about 30 pounds heavier than I had been 10 years before, so TH and I joined a gym and started eating better. I didn't lose a huge amount of weight, but was back on track with healthier habits.

Then I got pregnant, lost the pregnancy, and immediately became pregnant again with J. I was so worried about everything with J's pregnancy because of the miscarriage - I was paranoid about working out and stopped that altogether, but was still eating healthy and managed to only gain 25 pounds. I easily lost all my pregnancy weight within 6 weeks, thanks to breastfeeding. I was so exhausted and overwhelmed that first year with J, I didn't really even think about my weight much, until he turned 1. At that point, once he was sleeping better and I wasn't bf'ing anymore, I finally got fed up with being fat and really made an effort to get healthier. I started running, which I had never done before in my whole life. I ran a couple of 5K's, started Weight Watchers, and 1.5 years later I was pretty much at my high school weight again....

For about 2 weeks. Literally 6 days after I posted this last year I found out I was pregnant with Jr. Of course, isn't that how it always works? I didn't gain a crazy amount of weight with him (35 pounds), but I fell off the wagon again with exercise and definitely abandoned everything I learned with WW about how to eat. I think I fully expected to just drop all the weight within 2 months like I did with J...yeah, not so much. Right now I'm at a very annoying in-between, too big for my pre-Jr. clothes, too small for pre-J clothes from when I was at my heaviest. Add to that, I'm super top-heavy--even at my thinnest we're talking DD's, you add in breastfeeding and it's not a cute look.

I've been trying not obsess about it but it's hard, especially because I was on such a high last year after losing all of that weight. It was the first time in years that I'd managed to stick to an exercise and eating plan and see some major results. That's the part that is getting to me, I KNOW now that I can do it. But I also know that I just don't have the energy and stamina (mental or physical) to really commit to it right now the way I want. Jr. still wakes up multiple times a night to nurse, and J pretty much doesn't nap anymore, so I can't see where I can fit in real exercise -- it's either at the end of the day when I'm completely drained of energy, or early in the morning when I'm trying my best to cram in 2-3 hours of sleep. I've rejoined Weight Watchers, which is a blessing and a curse. I love WW and the whole points thing, but in some ways it makes me more obsessive about my eating habits to constantly monitor every single thing I put in my mouth. Not to mention a side effect I didn't even think about, I kind of freaked out the first week I was back on the program because I although I lost 3 pounds my milk supply IMMEDIATELY went down so I had to dial back a bit.

sigh...I know I'm being too hard on myself. There's only so much I can do when I'm sleep- deprived and working full time and lactating. I know that if I just calm down and wait another 6 months like I did with J I'll have an easier time getting back to where I want to be. It's just so hard when I look in the mirror, and see photos of myself exactly a year ago looking and feeling fantastic...

Warning: May cause your kid to ask questions you're not ready to answer.

2010-03-02T20:34:00.000-08:00

So last weekend TH was out of town for three days and I had the kids to myself. J and I were snuggled up on the couch watching a movie while Jr. slept peacefully upstairs. Our movie choice that afternoon was The Adventures of Milo and Otis, which we found in the clearance bin at Target for only $4 and from the box looked like a great family movie that we would both like. I vaguely remembered this movie coming out when I was a kid, but somehow had never seen it.

For the most part, I would recommend "Miler and Otis" (as J calls it) to anyone with kids this age. It's basically a live-action film about a cute little orange kitten named Milo and a cute little pug puppy named Otis who live on a beautiful farm and have all kinds of adventures. The entire thing is narrated by a British guy who does a great job doing all the animal voices. J was enraptured as soon as we turned it on, and being the animal person I am, I was enjoying it, too. I didn't realize until later that movies like this should come with a warning label: Contains graphic nature scenes that may cause your kid to ask questions that you're totally unprepared to answer.

The movie started out so innocent -- look, the kitten fell in the stream! Now he's chasing a crab who turns around and pinches his nose! Now he and the puppy are wrestling and licking each other and butterflies and clouds and rainbows... But then it got a little darker, which is not a bad thing but I could tell J was a bit perturbed. At one point the kitten floats down the river and gets lost, and the puppy sets out to find him. Milo (the kitten) spends the night in a spooky forest with a scary foreboding owl stalking him. "This is scary," J said, sounding a little nervous. Next thing you know, the kitten is running and the owl swoops down (in unnecessary slo-mo I might add) and kills a mouse and eats it. Um, okay. J actually screamed at that part. "Why did the owl just break that mouse like that?" he asked. He was covering his ears, which he does when he's nervous/scared. "I don't know," I lied. I asked if he wanted me to turn it off, but he said he wanted to keep watching.

After the scary night in the forest, time passes and the next thing you know, Milo and Otis (who still haven't found their way back to the farm) are grown up, and they now have...girlfriends? With no explanation Milo suddenly has a little white cat hanging out with him, and somehow Otis has found another purebred Pug wandering around in the woods and they've hooked up. A couple of scenes later, the girlfriends are both hugely pregnant...and then they give birth. That's right, the cute little puppy/kitten movie has now turned into my vet school freshman year Reproduction class. Not that I'm against J seeing an animal give birth; actually I think animals are a great way for kids to learn about that sort of stuff. But I was completely unprepared to answer the questions that followed.

J: Why does that dog's belly look like that? What are those things hanging down? (Referring to the multitude of nipples).

Me: She's pregnant. She's going to have babies. Kind of like when my belly was big, when Jr. was in there, remember?

J: (During graphic scene of female dog having contractions and licking herself) What is she DOING? Why is she licking her legs like that?

Me: Um, she's getting ready to have the babies. (Internally: WTH??)

J: (As the dog delivers a steaming puppy that does indeed look like a turd.) She's pooping! Why is she pooping?? Why is she licking the poop? She's eating the poop!

Me: She didn't poop. That's a puppy, she just gave birth. She has to clean it off.

J: Why did she poop out her baby?

Me: (Regretting not pre-viewing this movie) She didn't poop out the baby. It came out of her...um, (telling myself to grow up already) it came out of her vagina.

J: (Eyes bugging) Her what?? What's a pachina?

Me: (Realizing that somehow we've never had this particular discussion.) Um, it's something that girls and mommies have, where babies come out.

J: Why did she poop out of her pachina?

Me: She didn't poop out of--

J: (Putting two and two together) Did Jr. come out of your pachina?

Me: Um....yes?

J: (Thinking about it.) I think you pooped Jr. out of your belly button.

Me: Uh, yeah, pretty much that's what happened. Hey, I think Yo Gabba Gabba might be on...

J: I want to watch Miler and Otis again.

33 on the clock.

2010-02-22T06:00:00.000-08:00

Today I'm 33. Not a "big" birthday, but it really sounds like a grown-up age, doesn't it? Closer to 40 than I am to 20. Which is not a bad thing, whenever I'm around 20-year-olds I definitely feel the age gap and realize I'm more comfortable with "my generation." People like me, who actually owned record albums and remember when Madonna looked like a person and know what movie is being referenced when someone yells out "Wolverines!!" and actually feel old when we realize while watching Two and a Half Men that we still think of Jon Cryer as Ducky and that all of the Molly Ringwald movies came out like twenty-five years ago. You know, grown-ups.

I didn't make any real "resolutions" at New Year's this year, so instead I have a few goals between now and my next birthday. By the time I'm 34:

I would like to run at least 2 more 5K's and start thinking about a half marathon. Of course this would mean I have to start running again. I've been walking and lifting weights, and I plan to start running again once Jr. is 6 months old (I'm just so paranoid about doing anything that will diminish my milk supply).
In conjunction with my first goal, I'd really like to lose this last bit of pregnancy weight. For once in my life I'm not overly worried about it, though. Since losing weight with Weight Watchers last year I feel like I have a good handle on the "right" way to lose weight. I started W.W. again a couple of weeks ago and already I'm back in good habits and shedding pounds.
I really, really, really want to get away for a weekend without my husband and kids. Bless their hearts, I love them but it's been awhile since I had some "me" time. Can I do this without guilt? Probably not but I'm still going to do it.
I need to decide once and for all if I'm going to try to go back and do a residency. Now that I'm 6 years out of vet school, I've been coming across classmates of mine (some younger than me) who pursued the specialist route and now they're all board-certified and published and all accomplished and stuff. This year I really need to figure out if I can feel ok with my own accomplishments (i.e. kids) and lay to rest the desire to be a specialist, or if it's time for me to say what the heck and look into another 3-4 years of schooling. (The very thought makes me shudder so I'm thinking I already know how I feel about this one).
Debt free, except for student loans, mortgage, and car payment. We're close now. I think this is totally attainable within the next few months.

And finally...I'm going to eat a pomegranate. When I was writing about making baby food and how J is a picky eater, TH said, "Well, you're a picky eater." And he's kind of right. I do have a fairly long list of foods I don't like, mostly fruits. I don't know why. I love a good vegetable, but other than plain old bananas/apples/oranges/grapes I just can't get into fruits. Strawberries? No, I've never liked the flavor. Plums? Weird texture. Mango? Too slimy. Kiwi? God, no. Gag. Peaches, raspberries, and pineapple? Only in yogurt or baked in a dessert. But the worst offender is the pomegranate, with all those little seeds!! Gah, my stomach clenches thinking about them, they skeeve me out that much. So this year...I'm doing it. Maybe.

The Wall

2010-02-14T20:14:00.000-08:00

I think 4.5 months, for me, is the Wall Phase of infant development. As in, there's only so much sleep deprivation you can take, and then you hit a wall. That was me this past week. Jr. has been going through the so-called "4 month sleep regression" something terrible for the last 3-4 weeks, and it finally started catching up with me. A few days ago I began having that familiar feeling that I remember from when J was little, that I'm-going-to-start-climbing-the-walls-motherhood-is-kind-of-suffocating-me-right-now feeling. You know, the knot in your stomach and heart-racing instant stress you feel when the baby wakes up for the third time in 3 hours. And it's only 2am. The feeling that you want to go downstairs and run out the front door instead of getting up and trudging down the hall to the baby's room. Followed by the old resentment that only moms have boobs and therefore 90% of the middle of the night BS falls on you while hubby lifts his head for a few seconds to inanely tell you "I think the baby's up again" before falling back asleep. Then when you get to the baby's room and said baby starts kicking you in the stomach and pinching your breast and basically jacking around, waking up more instead of getting sleepier, for a few moments you think "Maybe this time you'll just have to cry, buddy" and consider not soothing him back to sleep even though you know he's still a little too young for that.

Of course this is all topped off by the immediate Mom Guilt that you even have such terrible, selfish thoughts. I sometimes wonder if dads have all of this internal turmoil, and something tells me...probably not. Between J and Jr. and work and pumping and what feels like a perpetually messy house and paying bills and stupidly re-starting Weight Watchers in the midst of all this stress, I definitely ran full speed into my Wall. Stick a fork in me, I'm a bit overdone. It's the usual Mommy song-and-dance: I feel like I'm taking care of everyone else, but no one is really taking care of me (including me). This morning I was looking in the mirror examining the horrid bags under my eyes and Oscar the Grouch-like unplucked eyebrows I've been sporting...when I spotted two new long gray hairs right at my hairline. Instead of being upset, I thought, "Yeah, that seems about right." Just in time for my birthday next week, too!

I know, I know, things could be worse. As someone reminded me this week, my kids are healthy and happy and in the grand scheme of things all of this is more annoying than anything else. I'm not going to die from being tired (although there's usually a freakout around 3am where I think that may be exactly what will happen). And Jr. is pretty cute, full-on laughing and "talking" and holding toys and making a valiant effort to roll over every day. I had to remind myself that all of these sleep "problems" are due to his little brain developing, a process I feel so blessed to witness again even though it's exhausting on my end of it.

So I plucked my eyebrows today, straightened my hair for the first time in weeks (and tried to ignore the alarming amount of hair in the drain and hairbrush, kind of forgot about that little postpartum gift, the hair loss), put some makeup on...and then fell asleep on my bed. Yeah, that seems about right.

Almost Wordless Wednesday - Photo Fun at the Park (or, It Took Like 80 Shots to Get ONE of the Baby Smiling)

2010-02-03T07:00:00.000-08:00

"Come on, Jr. smile for Mommy!"

Nope.

"Smile for Mommy! Look happy! Smile for me...?"

Aaaaaand....no.

"Quick, quick! Snap the picture! He's smiling!"

We're getting closer...

And as the batteries on the camera start to die...

BAM! Money shot.

It turns out I'm a little crunchier than I thought with this one.

2010-02-01T15:14:00.000-08:00

First it was the strange urge to have a "natural" childbirth. Then it was the cosleeping, although that's sort of ended (Jr. still spends every night from about 4am on in our bed. I can only walk up and down the hall so many times during this "4-month sleep regression" before I go crazy.) And now...I think I want to try making my own baby food.

J is a horribly picky eater, something that has been a huge struggle for a long time and is only just now starting to improve. The list of things he doesn't like is ridiculously long and includes lots of things that average preschoolers love - spaghetti, french fries, mashed potatoes, beans, any kind of wrap or quesadilla or tortilla, grilled cheese sandwiches, noodle soup, "real" hot dogs (he only likes the Jennie O Turkey Store kind), bread, and up until maybe 2 weeks ago he wouldn't eat pizza... Although in his defense he does like alot of good foods that most toddlers ignore like broccoli and rice (white or fried) and green beans and salad. The kid will eat a spring mix of lettuce with vinaigrette every day if we let him. I know that being a picky eater is partly the kid, partly the parents, partly the age, but it gets old having a super-skinny kid who won't eat anything regularly except for pancakes.

So awhile back I was having a conversation with someone who wondered aloud if jarred baby food was part of the culprit with really picky eaters. Yes, it's convenient, and affordable, and easy...but it's so bland and even gross depending on the flavor. If kids start out with Gerber green bean puree instead of real green beans that have been pureed, are they more likely to be adverse to anything with real flavor? It's an interesting theory, maybe a little quacky, but it intrigues me anyway. Not to mention the lack of real organic and preservative-free choices in the baby food you buy at the store.

Sooooo.....the Big Experiment for the next couple of months is going to be Making My Own Baby Food. I've never even attempted it before, but it can't be THAT hard, right? I would think that over time it will save me money and probably will be more convenient than buying baby food at the store. I have a coffee grinder, and a steamer, and a food processor already. Has anyone else made baby food before? What do I need besides those items and something to store the food? I've checked out a few websites that have good tips and tricks, and a couple of books on the subject. Jr. just turned 4 months, so we'll probably be starting "solids" in the next 4-6 weeks (I'd like to wait until he's about 5 months unless he seems ready before then). Wish me luck...

The preschool question.

2010-01-26T20:31:00.000-08:00

I've written about it before, but we were truly blessed when we found our current daycare situation (believe it or not, it was all through an ad on Craig's List of all places.) J has been going to the same in-home daycare for 3+ years, since he was about 5 months old. We love the setup and the lady who runs it. The benefits have far outweighed the negatives: small group setting (I think 7-8 kids right now including Jr. and her own son who's in school all day), very low turnover (literally the same group of kids for the past 2 years, she hasn't had an opening for new families in a long time), reasonable price, warm and inviting atmosphere where the kids feel like they're at grandma's house, fun activities, home-cooked meals, parties on the holidays and their birthdays, a very open-door policy...

But recently, since Jr. was born really, TH and I have been wondering if J is starting to outgrow his daycare. As much as he loves it there, I can tell that every day he's more and more ready for a classroom setting. There is a routine every day and some learning activities, but the daycare is really geared toward the infant/toddler set. There isn't a "curriculum" in any sense of the word. J is a very intelligent kid, already reading dozens of words, doing basic math, and navigating the computer like an old pro. The other day he asked me when he could go to school like a friend of his who left daycare this semester and started preschool. When I told him if he starts going to preschool that means that he won't go to daycare anymore, he said, "I don't want to go to daycare anymore, Mommy." When I asked him why, he said, "I like it but now there's too many babies." (Backstory: All of the kids at daycare are roughly the same age, 2.5-3.5 years old. Three of the 'daycare moms' including me had babies this past year between August and September, so now there's a whole new crop of infants there.) Hmmm.

So what's the problem? I'm not sure if we can afford preschool right now. Our daycare is very reasonably priced, and one of the best features is that we pay per day attended, meaning that if J only goes to daycare for 2 days in a week, we only pay for 2 days, instead of the full-week-tuition-no-matter-what policy of most daycares/preschools. That works out well with my current schedule, because I only work every other week - therefore I only pay for daycare every other week. We've found a pretty good preschool that we want to look into, with a fairly decent tuition, but it's still going to be almost twice what we're paying right now for daycare for the two kids. And of course Jr. will still go to our current daycare, so the kids will be in two different childcare situations, which I'm not too keen about.

I also feel a little strange putting J in such a formal setting for so many hours during the day. 7:30-5:30 seems like alot of time to me to be in school. Of course that's how long they're at daycare now, but it's so much more informal there--like I said it's like being at grandma's house, with cookies and playing in the backyard and afternoon movies on rainy days. I think some of my resistance is just me not wanting to face the fact that J is not a little toddler anymore (he'll be 4 in THREE MONTHS. Holy moly.). It's so strange to think of him going to "school" already, carrying a little backpack and a lunchbox and not taking naps and having parent-teacher conferences. Which one of us isn't ready, I wonder.

We went ahead and set up an interview this week with the preschool so we could take J to see what it's all about and talk to the teachers. I'm still not sure how we're going to pay for it, but if it seems like the right step then we'll just find a way I guess, we always do when we need to. We'll see.....

Today's story brought to you by the letter J.

2010-01-18T12:29:00.000-08:00

Today I was going to post a long, hopefully thought-provoking, totally navel-gazing piece about why Martin Luther King Jr. Day is so important to us, and how we're trying to raise our kids to be color-blind yet at the same time aware of their ancestry and the struggles our people have had over the years, and maybe throw in a little story about how I was a first-generation college student and the only black person in my vet school the entire four years I was there, and how awe-inspiring it is when you're raising African American sons to see Barack Obama running sh-- even if the tide seems to be turning against him...

But instead today's story is brought to you by J. It all started back when we were in Denver for Thanksgiving and hanging out in a hospital parking garage waiting for TH (who was visiting his mom but the kids couldn't go in because of H1N1 regulations). J was getting super antsy, so I said, "Let's make up a story." He loved the idea immediately, and for the next hour we developed what he calls "The Space Story." It's a great story, that changes every time we tell it. He's so involved in this story now that more often than not he wants me to lay down with him and do The Space Story at bedtime instead of reading a book.

(I tried to copy this down as close to verbatim as I could).

Once upon a time there was a family. A mommy, a daddy, a little boy, and a little baby. They lived in a house at the Las Vegas Airport. One day the little boy said, "I don't like watching this movie anymore. I want to go see outer space."

"That sounds like a plan," the Daddy said.

So they went outside where they had their big white spaceship. They got in their car and drove to the spaceship. They had to put on their special spacesuits and their special space helmets. That way they could breathe in the car. So then they counted down, "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1" and when they got to 19 they said "Blast off!" Then the spaceship went up, up, up, past the clouds and the sun and the stars until they went into outer space.

"Let's go to the yellow Animal Planet," said the baby. "Okay" said the Mommy. This time it was the nice animals. So then they landed on the planet and when they got there they saw all the animals. Nice animals, not bite animals. There was all kinds of animals like a tiger, a lion, a bear, a jellyfish, and sharks swimming on the planet. Then a big green truck came and it was the tiger's truck and he said, "You have to climb up over the tall, tall wheels and get in the tall, tall seat so I can drive my truck." Then when they got in the truck they had to ride on a boat to the tiger's house. And he had a birthday party there, with a pinata, and a birthday cake. And Santa put a bunch of presents by their Christmas tree too. So then they ate all that cake. Then they had to pull a string on the pinata, and the baby didn't get to pull the string. Then a bunch of cars and trucks fell out so they could play with them.

After that they all got tired so they had to go back to the spaceship and take a nap. First they had on their pajamas and then they went back to outer space. Now maybe they should go to the purple carnival planet. That's where they had the slide thing. So then the spaceship flew around and then they got to the purple planet. Or green, or blue, or yellow. Blue means azul. Then they saw all the carnival things like a big slide, and a basketball thing, and the horse thing. Then the Daddy was strong so he could hold their big bag of candy. Then they had jumped! kind of like that (jumping around) and then he had the fighting thing (making fighting motions) and the tiger was biting the other animals.

So then they had to go back home again in the spaceship. When they got to their house they had to put their pajamas on again or else they don't have their clothes on. Because the baby was crying all the time for his pajamas. Then the Mommy said, "Do not get out of your bed!" and there was more presents under their Christmas tree, all the trucks for the little boy and everything. And the baby was growed up and had some trucks, too, so he could play with them.

And that's just the end of the outer space.

Break up, to make up, that's all we do....

2010-01-14T11:01:00.001-08:00

Jr. and I are back together. It was a rough few days, that's for sure. Yesterday he started to act more normal about nursing (i.e. not pushing my boob away like it's poison), and today we seem to be back on track, for the most part. My being home for a week is probably a huge help, so now I'm worried that with my on-one-week/off-one-week schedule we're going to go through this at the beginning of every "off" week when he's been away from me for a few days straight. There's always something to worry about, isn't there?

As I was telling Julie--whose kids are the exact same age as mine, the babies are one day apart and seem to be eerily similar in their newborn shenanigans--this week has been a Big Lesson for me. I think part of the issue I was having with Jr. was expecting him to be the same as J. This has been one of the bigger adjustments of having two kids, which I'm sure we'll deal with pretty much forever: Realizing that although they come from the same place, J and Jr. are not the same kid. As an identical twin, when I was growing up I got so sick of constantly being compared to my sister, good or bad. People always assumed that we'd either be exactly the same in everything, or complete polar opposites -- "Are you the smart one or the dumb one? Are you the loud one or the quiet one? Why don't you guys ever 'swap' and see if anyone notices?" It gets old constantly trying to prove that you are not the same as another person just because you have the same parents and you look alike. Yet here I am, making the same mistake, because it's hard not to, especially in these early stages when I don't "know" Jr. yet the way I do J.

J was very attached to the breast from the get-go, despite my own difficulties with cracked nipples and pumping. He was always comforted by nursing, especially when he was tired. It took us a long time to break the habit of nursing to sleep. If I was even in the same room as him, he wouldn't take a bottle. From me, or anyone else. As a matter of fact, when he was small I had the opposite problem--when I went back to work J started "reverse cycling," refusing to eat more than a few ounces from a bottle during the day and nursing all night long. He had a strong urge to suck, and we had to get him on the pacifier early because otherwise he would have been attached to me all day long (another habit that took over 2 years to break).

Jr. is just a different kid. He likes to nurse, but doesn't love it the way J did. If my letdown is too slow, he gets impatient and squeezes my boob or kicks me. When he's done eating, he turns his head away rather than falling asleep at the breast. As a matter of fact, he won't nurse when he's sleepy, if he's tired or cranky and I try to feed him--even when I know he's hungry--he gets more upset. He'd rather fall asleep on his own and wake up a mere 30 minutes later to eat than actually nurse to sleep. Which is a good thing in some ways, Jr. is so much better at getting himself to sleep without all the "crutches" of nursing/rocking/singing/bouncing like we had to use with J, who was a terrible napper. Something tells me that Jr. is going to get over breastfeeding long before I will, and not because of anything I'm doing--it just seems like that's his personality. I was hoping for a year, and now I'll be happy with 6 months. If for no other reason than to cover the cost of that fricking breast pump!

The one where the 3 month old broke my heart.

2010-01-11T17:23:00.000-08:00

Why is motherhood so difficult sometimes, the things that should be easy are always a struggle? Well not always, but sometimes it seems that way. For the past couple of days, Jr. has been on a "nursing strike." He doesn't want the boob. It feels like he doesn't want me. Our breastfeeding relationship has been excellent from day one, so different than the beginning of bf'ing with J. My first 6 weeks nursing J were kind of hellish - cracked, bleeding nipples, mastitis, ridiculously huge breasts bigger than the whole baby (did you know there's such thing as a G cup? Trust me, it's real. And it's spectacular.) It felt like I was serving a sentence instead of doing something wonderful. And then, when we reached 6 weeks, suddenly it was easier and we were both enjoying it and it wasn't painful and the baby was growing and healthy and I could see what everyone raves about. When I went back to work at 10 weeks I had some issues pumping enough every day but somehow we made it to almost a year before weaning. It was a great year.

I *thought* it was going to be the same with Jr. Only without the hellish first month. And it was, until last week. Jr. latched on to my breast 10 minutes after being born and never looked back (yes, I have a picture, no, that picture will never show up on this blog.) No cracked nipples, no issues latching on, the boobs are still huge but at least this time I was prepared for it and still had my $60 ordered-online G cup nursing bras. It's been fairly blissful, the baby acts hungry, I pop a boob in his mouth, everyone's happy. I went back to work six weeks ago and even that didn't cause any problems. This time around I bought a better breast pump and haven't had any problems collecting enough milk for daycare bottles. I was just bragging--JINX ALERT! When will I learn--to coworkers that Jr. has never had a drop of anything but breastmilk in his young life and how proud I was of that fact.

So what happened? I'm not sure. Honestly I think he's learned that bottles are the best thing since sliced bread - the same amount of milk with 1/3 the work! I noticed last week that in the evenings he was being weird about nursing when I came home from work, and figured he just wasn't hungry. He's still waking up three times a night to nurse, and thankfully (I guess) that hasn't stopped. But yesterday we hit a wall with the daytime nursing. Suddenly, every time I offered the breast he actually turned his head away and clamped his mouth shut, even crying. No matter what position we're in, he's having none of it. I've managed to nurse him a few times...while he's sleeping. That's the only way he'll accept the breast. When he's awake he acts like I'm torturing him when I try to nurse. It's breaking my heart a little...or alot. Last night he was screaming and crying at bedtime when I tried to nurse, usually a relaxed time of day. Finally I gave in and had TH give him a bottle, which he promptly sucked down in one minute flat. I started crying. Kind of hysterically. How could he prefer a bottle to me? J NEVER wanted the bottle when I was available. Never. Why was he doing this to me? My little secret lover, betraying me for a piece of plastic.

This morning I called the lactation consultant as soon as the office was open, and her only advice was "keep trying, but don't force it." She gave me some words of hope that this is very common in 3-4 month olds, and usually (knock on wood) it only lasts a few days. Today we managed to nurse enough times (all during or right after sleep) that I haven't had to pump, but I know that's next if he keeps this up. I'm not sure if I'm keen on the idea of pumping during the day when I'm home with the boys. It seems like it totally defeats the purpose of breastfeeding, i.e. not having to deal with bottles and pumping on your days off. But I hate to introduce formula to the mix just yet, so we'll see if it comes to that. Luckily I only work every other week (part of the problem, I think, my new schedule is kind of disruptive for both kids), so I'll have several days to hole up with Jr. and push my boob in his face every hour until he "gets it" again. Until then, I'm so sad. Breastfeeding is one of those things I never expected to be so important to me, but it is. It's the ONE THING I can give my kids that the daycare lady can't. It's also my private time with them, even in the middle of the night, and I cherish it, especially on days when I work. I'm just hoping, and praying, that Jr. will leave Dr. Brown and come back to me, soon....

My prayer for 2010.

2009-12-31T21:26:00.000-08:00

2009. Eh. So many good things happened this year, so why do I feel like "good riddance?" I don't know. This was a hard year in alot of ways, most of which I've kept from this blog. Pay cuts for both me and TH. Furloughs. Ever-growing demyelination lesions on someone's MRIs. Parents in the hospital, other family members going through painful divorces and illness. Finding out we closed on our house three days (THREE DAYS!!) too early to qualify for the first-time homebuyer tax credit. That one crappy week at the end of my maternity leave when we had $3.49 in the checking account yet somehow managed to stay in the black until the next payday. Losing our last grandparent right before Christmas.

Of course it wasn't all bad. I mean, we did have this:

J turns 3.

Quote: "I'm a big boy now!"

And this:

TH finally finishes his M. Ed.

Quote: "Look at me, all educated and stuff!"

And of course, this little guy:

Jr. is born 9.29.09.

Quote: "My hair looks like shag carpet!"

Like alot of people, though, we kind of lost some optimism this year. TH and I find ourselves on many nights laying in bed worrying about the future. Will we still have good jobs next year? TH works for the government, and I'm in a profession that requires people to spend money on their dogs and cats when they might not be able to feed their children. Will our house ever regain its value? (Unlikely anytime soon). If, God forbid, we lose our health insurance, could we afford the medication one of us needs? (Probably not, we're talking meds that cost in the four figures for a month's supply without prescription coverage. Chew on that for awhile.) So much uncertainty, a feeling that we've had a few times before but never this intense.

So instead of resolutions, I have a prayer, my hopes for 2010. Not that I don't want to lose those last 10 pounds of baby weight, but I've got other things on my mind this year...

My Prayer for 2010

Heavenly Father,

Please watch over and hold our little family in the coming year.

Give us the foresight and willpower to save our money when we would have more fun spending it.

Grant us the grace and wisdom to appreciate our jobs and paychecks, rather than griping and moaning about petty office "hardships" while we drive past people on the unemployment line.

Encourage us to be peaceful about changes that may be out of our control, and to remember that there is a Plan for us, even if we can't always see what it is.

Remind us to wake up each morning with a fresh perspective and faith that each day is a new day with new opportunities.

Remove hate and anger and jealousy from our hearts, as we don't know what hardships and trials motivate others to behave the way they do.

Give us patience to parent our children lovingly, even when we have a really hard time doing it. Help us cherish these sleepless nights with our baby and remember that they are only this small once.

Give us the strength to deal with our illnesses and infirmities while retaining an open and optimistic spirit. We know that every challenge is given to us for a reason.

Remind us every day that our marriage is a sacred covenant that should be nurtured despite the exhaustion and chaos of our daily life.

We don't know what lies on the road ahead. But we do have faith.

Amen.

Well, we know the Hot Wheels company won't go out of business this year.

2009-12-26T08:18:00.001-08:00

Christmas Morning 2009

Christmas is over, and here I am back at work trying to recuperate from the utter exhaustion of a fantastic but really tiring day. Everyone is finally feeling better, so at least the kids have been getting some sleep - including Jr. who has taken to his new sleep routine pretty well and has been consistently blessing us with only 2 feedings a night for the last few days. It's funny how once you have kids you get used to lack of sleep, before I would have cringed at the phrase "2 feedings a night," and now when I hear that I think, "Eh, that's pretty good!" But I digress.

Christmas with kids is so much more fun than Christmas with two grownups. TH and I didn't even get each other gifts this year because we're being oh so practical, saving up for a kitchen makeover next year. This is the first year that J seemed to have some inkling as to what was going down on Christmas Eve, but he's still young enough that he was completely SHOCKED when he came downstairs and saw all the presents (and I quote: "Why are all these toys down here??"). He really was a good boy this year, especially becoming a big brother, so Santa was very generous. And the cars and trucks obsession continues for another year, with Hot Wheels being the word of the day. Everything was Hot Wheels - new Hot Wheels cars (he now has well over 100 little cars that have made their way into every fricking nook and cranny of our house), Hot Wheels playsets, and for the first time, the fabled Hot Wheels Racetrack. Which, by the way, took OVER AN HOUR for a certain husband of mine to put together because he kept playing with it. Tonka trucks were also a big hit, as well as an extremely (EXTREMELY) boring DVD about construction sites, fire trucks, and planes that J has wanted to watch non-stop since he opened it.

He has no clue what's going on. Look at the bags under his eyes.

So many Hot Wheels, so little time.

The other favorite toy is an airport playset that TH was sure J wouldn't like, but I knew from watching him play over the past couple of months that he would love it. I think 3 is the age of imagination. When J plays, he's started to make up imaginary situations and add voices, and I'm always amazed at the things he says because they give me a glimpse of his view of the world. When he was playing with his airport set, I heard him pretending to be a flight attendant, telling one of the little people "Excuse me, sir, would you like some pretzels or water? How about some french fries?" and pretending to put the little people through security, telling them they "have to take your shoes off--but don't take your socks off, the floor is dirty!" It was pretty funny.

Look, a cute little baby with a cute little "My First Christmas" outfit! Notice the artful use of the baby to cover up Mommy's double chin situation.

I was just happy to have our little family all together, healthy and happy, on Christmas morning. Christmas this year was overshadowed by sadness, because TH's grandmother passed away suddenly last week so he was out of town until late Christmas Eve at her funeral. She was a wonderful lady with the sweetest personality, and although she lived a long life her passing was still a huge shock to TH. It's so strange to think of our grandparents all being gone now, and our kids will never know them. When people say that J he looks just like TH, what they're really saying is that he looks just like TH's dad because that's who TH looks like, and so what they're REALLY saying without knowing it is that he looks just like TH's grandma, because that's who his dad looks like. When we look at J and Jr., she's there, in their faces, along with all of the other grandparents that were gone long before Jr. was even a thought in our minds. So Friday was kind of bittersweet for us, watching our little kids have fun in the innocence of Christmas, but with the family's loss reminding us how quickly it all goes by...

At the end of the day, tired, happy, and piled up on Mommy.

After multiple attempts at a self portrait, this is the best I got.

Full view of the new outfit from Granny.

Visiting friends on Christmas: it's enough to wear a baby out.

Yep, we're parents.

2009-12-21T08:45:00.001-08:00

The last couple of weeks have been a blur. A blur of coughing, sneezing, congestion, vomiting...cold and flu season this year has pretty much kicked our whole family's butt. It started right before Thanksgiving--A MONTH AGO--and is still ongoing, although everyone seems a little bit better this week. It's been one of those long, drawn-out illnesses that started with TH, spread like wildfire to me and J, seemed to skip Jr., subsided for about a day, then sprang up again with me and finally Jr. last week. There's nothing as pitiful as a baby crying so hard his face is red but you can't hear it because his voice is so hoarse. And the coughing. The coughing! Weeks of coughing in the middle of the night, that annoying kind of cough where you try to stop. but. you. just. can't. stop. coughing. The coughing led to several horrid sleepless nights, because Jr. was still sleeping in bed with us and every time he would finally fall asleep one of us would start coughing and wake him up, and then he would need to nurse, but couldn't nurse well because he was so congested, so he would start crying and coughing, and on and on.

So one night last week we made the somewhat dumb decision to attempt to transition Jr. into sleeping in his crib, in his room, right in the midst of Cold and Flu Hell Week 2009. Maybe we weren't thinking straight. The first night went alright, I guess, with Jr. waking up about 5-6 times. This being our second rodeo our expectations for these types of nights are much lower, so we pretty much knew that the first night or two we'd be up all night, but we knew that if we kept at it he would get used to it eventually. So the second night, I fully expected to be up several times again but hoped that we would all get at least a little bit more rest. Everything started out well. We managed to bathe both kids and in the process give them both a "steam treatment" for their congestion, get everyone dressed for bed, and get our new bedtime routine (TH handles J, and being the "milk truck" I handle Jr.) finished by 8pm. Jr. was cooperative, settling into his Miracle Blanket without a fight for once and even drifting off to sleep in his crib by himself after a little rocking chair time. J was his usual crazed-right-before-bedtime self but fell asleep almost instantly once his light was out. TH and I crept back to our room and for the first time in 11 weeks watched an episode of Dexter together. Success!

Or not. Around midnight, Jr. was amazingly still asleep but I was startled awake by J, who had silently come into our room and was standing right next to my head in that creepy little kid way where they somehow will you to wake up without making a sound. "I need a new shirt," he said.

"What happened? Did you have an accident in your bed?"

"I threw up on my shirt. And on Pandy." Pandy is his panda bear. Great. Vomit clean-up in the middle of the night. So TH got up and started stripping sheets while I changed J's clothes. Problem solved, everyone went back to bed (after a little mini-tantrum about not being able to take vomity Pandy back to bed with him.) One hour later, I heard J coming back down the hall to our room, and before I could ask what was wrong he stopped in the door and I heard the distinctive sound of more upchucking. "He's barfing! Get up, he's barfing again!" TH jumped up and ran J into his bathroom, and while I was trying to find the carpet stuff to clean up the new mess, Jr. started wailing. So I abandoned the carpet and went to attend to Jr. TH was left to change PJ's once again and get J back into bed. Just as I came out of Jr.'s room, as TH was tucking him in, J suddenly sat up, leaned over the side of his bed, and vomited again, all over himself, the floor, the side of the bed, and TH. So we started stripping sheets AGAIN (at this point we'd all been up for another 45 minutes), and as we were getting J settled down Jr. woke up again, and when I went into his room and reached into the crib in the dark to pick him up I put my hand in a pool of vomited milk.

So there we were, TH scrubbing the carpet in J's room and changing sheets for the second time in 2 hours, me changing crib sheets with a crying-but-pitifully-hoarse baby laying on a blanket on the floor, and everyone coughing and sniffling and generally miserable. It was one of those times that is funny when you look back at it, but very unfunny when it's going down. As TH and I met up at the washing machine an hour later, he turned to me and said, "You realize we're washing vomity kids' sheets at 3am."

"Yep," I said.

"I guess we really are parents," he said.

"Yep."

Brothers

2009-12-11T17:07:00.000-08:00

Two years ago, we thought we were done having children, that we were fine with having an only child. Despite the usual 3-year-old insanity, J is a great kid, the answer to our prayers in many ways. Financially and logistically, we got into a really good groove over the past couple of years with just the three of us. Everyone was receiving enough attention, and there wasn’t really a great reason to rock the boat.

But everytime I would get together with my sisters and we would reminisce about growing up – the good, the bad, and let’s face it the sometimes really ugly – I couldn’t help but feel that for J to grow up an only child would be a disservice to him. Being a twin, I’ve never known a single child’s life – I’ve always had a sibling. Someone to play with, someone to talk to, someone to get in trouble with and to tattle on and get them in trouble. Sure we had our rough times (especially the teenage years – good God I don’t know how my mom survived 3 girls in high school at the same time!), but now that we’re adults the biggest blessing in my life besides TH and my boys is my relationship with my sisters. As J got older I also started to realize that having a little “competition” for our attention is also not a bad thing – one advantage of having siblings is realizing early on that you’re not the only person on earth.

Over the last few weeks I’ve started to see little signs here and there that J has warmed up to having a brother, and seeing the two of them together warms my heart in a way I didn’t really expect. Now that he’s used to the whole baby routine, J has become so helpful, getting diapers for me, looking for a dropped pacifier, helping at bathtime (his FAVORITE thing right now is helping give Jr. a bath.) He’ll come get me if the baby is crying, and when the music on Jr.’s bouncy seat goes off J will restart it without us asking. He’s stopped being jealous about breastfeeding – so much attention on the baby!—and will sit next to us patiently during feedings. The best part has been the social interaction between the two of them. Jr.’s favorite person on earth besides me is J, hands down. He turns his head towards J’s voice, and when J gets all in his business to “show” Jr. his toys (i.e. thrust them into the baby’s face until he goes cross-eyed) Jr. smiles and coos, and J exclaims “He’s smiling! He’s smiling at me!” It’s so freaking cute! When Jr. is having tummy time on the floor, J will lay in front of him encouraging him to hold his head up, telling him “Good job, baby! You’re doing it!” I love seeing them bonding with each other and starting their own little relationship that they’ll have for the rest of their lives.

Of course being siblings means there is some rivalry already, too. J has also started making random comments like “I want to put my foot on the baby’s head” or “I want to take the baby’s blanket off and make him cold” or (I kid you not) “I want to throw Jr. up into the fan.” He says all of these things in a very matter-of-fact way, and I try not to pay too much attention to it. I remember being the older kid—my younger sister and I have the exact same age difference as Jr. and J—and well, sometimes it gets old watching the baby get fussed over all the time. So I tell J it’s okay if he doesn’t always like the baby, and that I understand if he feels left out. And usually J will think about it, and earnestly tell me, “But I do love my baby brother, Mommy.”

I think having Jr.was a good decision for everyone.

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

2009-11-30T14:24:00.000-08:00

So…yeah. Thanksgiving. I don’t even have the energy to recount the whole crazy saga but suffice it to say that:

We flew with both kids for the first time. J was amazingly well-behaved throughout both airports and on the flights. Which was good because on the way there, when we got on the plane the guy in front of us groaned and said loudly, “Great, there’s little kids behind us” the same way you would say “Great, I just stepped in dog sh--.”. Jr. of course slept, nursed, looked around for 5 minutes, and then slept some more.
Sleeping on a fold-out sofa bed with a newborn and a toddler – NEVER AGAIN.
J really likes snow. And mountains. He kept proclaiming that he wants to move to “Denber.” Me too, kid, me too.
We all got sick. Except, miraculously for Jr., whose only symptom despite all of us repeatedly coughing and sneezing in his face has been mild nasal congestion. TH and I both had sore throats Monday morning before our flight, and by Wednesday we were all coughing, sneezing, stuffed up, and kind of miserable. On top of that, for the first time in my Colorado-born-and-raised life I experienced altitude sickness, which I kind of thought wasn’t a real thing until last week. It all culminated in J vomiting 3 days in a row, not from an upset stomach but from gagging after a severe coughing fit. One vomiting episode involved chocolate milk and us having to trade in our rental car because of the, um, mess, and another was right in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner. Awesome.
As usual I want to move back home. More than ever.

In other news…today was my first day back at work. Weird. In some ways, it’s almost like I never left, like having Jr. and going on maternity leave never happened. I had appointments lined up as soon as I walked in the door, and multiple surgeries and emergencies. I almost forgot that I needed to pump until I started, ahem, leaking. My clients were so happy to see me, and *most* of my patients managed to still be alive and well in my absenceJ. J was happy enough to go see his friends at daycare, and thankfully TH has managed to work out a work-from-home schedule for a few weeks so Jr. won’t have to start daycare until January when he’s 13-14 weeks old. So in that sense, it was a little easier for me this time around because I knew the baby was in good hands and I already have excellent childcare for J.

On the other hand, I was so torn this morning when I left for work. I’ve enjoyed being home with Jr. so much more than I did with J, partly because he’s a waaaay easier baby than J was, and partly because I’m waaaaay more relaxed and confident this time around. Especially in the last couple of weeks, since he’s been “talking” and smiling at me and looking into my eyes when he’s nursing. I’m falling in love with this little guy, just like I did the first time. I had days where I really thought I could be a stay at home mom, and other days (see previous posts LOL) where I thought I was going to go crazy being home with the two of them. But I realized today as I was doing surgery and laughing with my coworkers that I really am happiest when I can have both worlds. I get a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment from my job that I just MISS when I’m at home, even though I feel like being a mom is the most rewarding thing I do. It’s all a balancing act, and I’m so far from reaching a perfect balance, but I think it’s going to be okay.

Top Ten Phrases I've Uttered the Last 2 Weeks

2009-11-19T12:08:00.001-08:00

Okay this is my last "venting" post for awhile. I promise.

I'm pretty sure one of the following phrases will be Jr.'s first words because he hears me say these ALL. DAY. LONG.

10. "Stop. I said, stop doing that. STOP THIS INSTANT. I feel like I just said stop."

9. "You're not listening. Today is a bad listening day."

8. "What did I just say? What did I just say??"

7. "I'm counting to 3."

6. "And if you don't think I'm serious, feel free to test me." (my favorite line, also useful when arguing with TH lol)

5. "DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME."

4. "STOP TRYING TO STOMP ON THE DOG. If she bites you...you deserve it." (Don't worry, we're talking about an 8 pound dog here, she can't really do any damage.)

3. "Do not touch him while he's sleeping. Leave him alone. Stop messing with him, he's sleeping!! He's---you just woke the baby up."

2. "I'm not saying it again." (hmmm....yet I say this alot).

1. "I love you, but you're making Mommy crazy."

But I do love him though.

That sound? That would be all hell breaking loose.

2009-11-18T09:53:00.000-08:00

Okay so it hasn't been that bad, but the past couple of weeks have left me a bit drained. Jr. has been a delight, finally "waking up" and starting to smile and coo and wave his arms around when we talk to him and hold his head up and (kind of) sleep well. Taking care of him is a thousand million zillion times easier for me, mentally and physically. I've never been a huge fan of the newborn phase, but I've been trying to cherish these times a little bit more with Jr. because I'm 99.9999% sure we won't be having any more kids. I don't mind the getting up at night as much, either because I'm more used to it--we all know that once you have kids you never really sleep like you did before you had kids--or I'm more efficient at it or both. Jr. is still sleeping in our bed but at least he's making it from 8pm-midnight before waking up. So that means of course that I go to bed every night right after the kids so I can get one good block of sleep. It's so lame being a parent of a little infant, I have no life...

However. Staying home with J and Jr. has been a bit trying lately. The combination of having a new sibling, being 3.5 years old, and changes to the routine i.e. having Mommy's home all day every day has resulted in J being completely unpredictable and on some days this close to being sold on Craig's List. Just kidding. Every day is a roller coaster it seems. Part of the day is us having a good time hanging out together, cooking, doing crafts, watching movies, walking to the park, etc. The other part of the day is inevitably me raising my voice at some point, J hanging out in the time out spot, me standing in my closet or hiding in my bathroom counting to ten (or 1,000), and me texting TH with increasing frequency as 5pm creeps closer: "r u getting off on time?"..."what time r u leaving wrk?"..."r u coming straight home after wrk?"..."where r u?"
I've never seen J be this bratty. I hate to use that word but it's the only one that really encapsulates how he's been the last couple of weeks. For whatever reason he's suddenly realized that he can be really defiant, and has started talking back to me, EVERY TIME I talk to him it seems. If I tell him to put his shoes on, he says "YOU put your shoes on. I'm not putting my shoes on." If I tell him computer time is over, he tells me he's not turning the computer off, ever. He argues with me about going upstairs to find his cup, and where his cars are supposed to go, and whether he has to get ready for bed, and what we're having for lunch. I get so tired of arguing with a 3 year old! When I send him to time-out, he yells and screams the whole time, "OUT OF TIME OUT!! I'M GETTING OUT!!" If I'm attending to the baby while he's supposed to be in timeout or in his room, he plays a "game" where he runs out of timeout giggling, and when I see him he runs back. Some days he actually yells "You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!!" (I'm not kidding. Thanks, Starfall.com). And I get angry, and start yelling, and J starts acting more crazed, and I get a headache. Meanwhile amazingly Jr. sleeps through it all or kind of bemusedly watches us from the bouncy seat.

To top things off, J is totally having a Potty Training Regression. As in, last week he was having accidents (#1 and #2) every single day, as if potty training never happened. I don't know why, but this particular regression has been the most frustrating thing of all. I can't really describe the sense of defeat I felt when I realized we had to do potty training all over again, after months with not a single accident. And I mean all over again, we had to go back to Pull-ups after one particularly trying day where J changed pants SIX TIMES by 2pm. TH and I have been trying to really push positive reinforcement and not punish when he has an accident, but it is SO HARD not to get angry when he walks right past the bathroom and proceeds to stand in our room and pee, especially when we all know he can use the potty. Sigh...I know, I know, this too shall pass.

At least we have daycare/preschool so we can get a break from each other. I keep reminding myself that this is a huge adjustment for J, and that he has no idea why we're so tired all the time (thankfully he never wakes up at night when Jr. cries). I go back to work in less than 2 weeks, which I'm sure will bring another round of Transition Madness--just when we all get the hang of Mommy being a Sort-of Stay at Home Mom, back to work I go. I'm thinking it's going to be awhile before we're back on a good routine.

Where were you in '99?

2009-11-04T10:56:00.000-08:00

Since today is a "preschool" day (previously known as daycare, "preschool" is less guilt-inducing for me), I had a long list of all the stuff I was going to get done while Jr. is napping. Laundry. Mop the entire downstairs. Go through accumulated bills/statements and file or shred appropriately. Clean the kids bathroom. Start pumping and get a milk stash going since it's only 3.5 weeks until I'm back at work. Clean up dog poop in the yard. Send out way overdue thank-you cards from the surprise baby shower that is now 6 weeks in the past (I know, I know), organize some of the 5 billion pictures we've taken of Jr., and oh yeah, maybe update the blog.

Yes, like most moms with newborns, I have a looooong list of crap that is just not getting done despite my temporary stay-at-home mom status. So with good intentions I was organizing my desk (or maybe jacking around on the computer wasting time on Facebook and Babycenter, whatever), and for whatever reason I decided to "dust" a little photo album that I never look at, a photo album commemorating the Summer of 1999, also known as One of the Most Adventurous Summers of My Young Life. As I flipped through the book, all I could think was, "Holy crap. This is TEN YEARS AGO." It feels like 5 minutes ago, but it also feels like an alternate life that was lived by someone else. I was 22. I lived in a one-bedroom apartment by myself, although TH and I were definitely pretty serious by then. I was still a zookeeper at the Denver Zoo. I was in between my 1st and 2nd senior years at CU Boulder (I needed the "Five-Year Plan" because I had to work full time at the zoo to pay the bills, so I was only in class 2-3 days a week trying to crank out the pre-req's for vet school). I hadn't even applied to vet school yet, and I was still trying to figure out if I really wanted to be a vet or if I wanted to pursue something more academic.

At that time, I knew I was destined to work with animals. Because of my exposure to exotic animals through being a zookeeper and my love of all of my anthropology courses, I kept envisioning myself being The Next Jane Goodall. I was fascinated with primates (still am), and I fantasized that maybe I would become a primatologist, living in the jungle studying monkeys or apes when I wasn't teaching anthro classes (I also had and still have a great interest in teaching). So, when one of my anthro professors announced in spring 1999 that there was an opportunity for students to spend the summer in Central America helping her study monkeys, I jumped all over it. Keep in mind that A) I had never been outside the continental US, B)I was a scholarship/loan student with very little money to traipse around the world, and C) I needed to keep my job at the zoo. I'm still amazed that I actually managed to go on the trip. Somehow, I scrounged up additional student loan money to finance my part of the excursion and keep my rent paid while I was gone, I convinced my boss to hold my job for me over the summer, and I got my first passport. And off I went to Costa Rica and Panama, traveling by myself (well not exactly, I was with a research group but I had never met any of them prior to the trip).

This isn't even the smallest or crappiest plane. It was hilariious -- as small as it is, they had the nerve to have 3 flight attendants and a meal/drink service on this plane.

It was such an adventure! Getting to the island off of Panama where our research station was located took 2 days of progressively smaller and more questionable aircraft, culminating in us riding in a 10-seater, double prop plane that had DUCT TAPE ON THE WINDOWS to keep rain out and that flew so low over the mountains you could see birds in the trees (that part was not so much "adventurous" as "scary as hell"). Once we reached the tiny little "town" that held the airstrip, it was another hour into the jungle to reach the station, which was right on the uninhabited beach. We only had semi-electricity (lights in our "dining hall") for a few hours each day, with no real running water, just a gravity-fed ice cold shower in the "cabina" where we slept on little cots surrounded by mosquito nets. For six weeks, we woke up at around 4am and strapped on head lamps so we could hike into the rainforest and listen for the howler monkeys to start screeching, then use machetes to hack through the forest until we figured out their exact location. (Just thinking back I can't believe we actually did that everyday). The rainforest was exactly as you picture it in movies: hot, humid, muddy, trees so tall and leafy that it was almost night-time dark during the day, millions of insects and lizards and birds and butterflies (but thankfully no big cats or poisonous snakes. Those were on the mainland.) Each day we would set up shop at the base of some huge tree and spend hours watching the monkeys do their monkey thing through binoculars, notating their activities every 5 minutes. Every once in awhile --I kid you not -- a creepy-silent Amazonian-type barefoot and loinclothed "Forest Person" would amble by, say "hola" to us and then kind of chuckle at all of our equipment and notebooks and headlamps before they melted back into the forest to do whatever it is they did.

View of the part of the island where the monkeys were. I know, right?

Standing at the base of one of the giant rainforest trees. This one was a smaller one. Notice how dark it is in the middle of the day because of how dense the forest was.

Inside the cabina where we slept. On those little cots. For weeks. Mine is the upper one on the right.

In the afternoons we would hike back to the station, and have fun -- we'd usually jump into the ocean to wash off the mud, then spend the hours before dark snorkeling, drinking beer on our little beach, playing cards, reading, and smoking cigarettes (yes, smoking. I was a sort-of smoker in my college days, and I smoked so much while in Panama that I pretty much smoked myself out and ended the habit when I got back. What can I say, I was 22, there wasn't much else to do, and the packs were only 25 cents.) On weekends we would go into town and hang out at the local bar, drinking tequila and beer until early morning. It was crazy.

Swinging on a vine in the forest. A real vine, y'all!

After a day of monkey-watchimg. Notice the mud up to my knees. And the youth.

Anyway I could go on and on, but suffice it to say the summer of '99 was pretty pivotal for me. It was the first time I felt like a real adult, travelling in different countries by myself, taking part in a real research project. It was also when I realized that I couldn't stomach being a true primatologist. The jungle was just too "real" for me. The bugs, the heat, the mud, the mind-numbing monotony of watching monkeys sleep and eat and scratch each other's backs all day, having to take daily anti-malaria medication that can cause "hallucinogenic dreams," the lack of interaction with the outside world. When I came back from Panama I was 100% sure I was going to vet school. It was also the first time I'd tried to maintain a serious relationship from afar, and that summer was also when I became pretty sure that TH was The One, because I missed him more than anyone else while I was gone, and when I saw him at the gate when I got off the plane I almost cried I was so happy to see him.

I've had alot of challenging and cool and different experiences since then, but nothing that really matches that summer. When I look at the pictures of myself then, I wonder if I'm living the life that I envisioned back then. I'm not sure. I love my life. I've accomplished most of the goals I made for myself then. But I can't help feeling that my true "Adventure" days are behind me, at least until my kids are grown and gone. And that's okay.

J-isms

2009-11-02T15:19:00.000-08:00

So today I'm focusing on my first love, J. With all that I want to say about Jr. and having a second kid and all that, I haven't reported much about J recently. So here are a few of his Deep Thoughts and random musings that have made me laugh over the past few weeks. This is why I like having the blog, if I didn't capture these things here I would forget them forever. (This is pretty much Jr.'s baby book at this point LOL).

When watching me breastfeed for the millionth time: "Mommy, don't say you're feeding the baby. You're drinking him. He's drinking milk." So now that he's decided that's the accurate terminology, we all refer to breastfeeding as drinking the baby. Hey, it makes us laugh.

New word of the month: "Softy." It describes things that are soft, or sweet, or have an indefinable texture, as in, "I like yogurt. It's softy." or "Your toothpaste is spicy, mine is just softy."

J: "I don't think I like this brush." Me: "Why not?" J: "It's so....hairy."

After explaining what a mustache is: "I don't have a mustache like Daddy. I just have a cheek face."

J heard me refer to my breasts as boobs, so now he calls them that except he says "boods." Which is funny in and of itself, and even funnier when he says things like, "The baby doesn't want his binky, he wants to drink your boods." Or when he found a stray breast pad on the floor and yelled out in front of houseguests, "Mommy! I found one of your bood things! The thing you put in your boods! I found it!!"

Another explanation gone awry -- I explained to J what fur is in response to him asking why animals don't wear clothes. He proceeded to tell me that he has "furbs" too, only "not on my booty."

Shoot. I had a bunch more in my mind but I forgot. Have a great Monday!

Secret Lovers

2009-10-20T15:27:00.000-07:00

I'm finding that one of the trickier balancing acts going from 1 to 2 children is trying to give enough love and attention to the new kid...without the older kid really noticing. On the one hand, it's important for J to understand that Jr. is a part of our family and it's okay for Mommy and Daddy to kiss and cuddle and hold the new baby in front of him. On the other hand, I've BEEN the older kid. I know how hard it is to feel like last year's model standing in the background while everyone in the store ooh's and aah's over the new baby -- look how precious he is! His little hands! Oh how cute, he's smiling in his sleep! Look at how perfect his head is! (That's the number-one comment about Jr., believe it or not, from strangers and family members alike. Apparently he was born with a Perfectly Shaped Head.) When I'm kissing the baby's head and singing to him and absentmindedly stroking his back while I carry him around the house, I can sometimes feel J watching us, and I've caught a few sad faces from him that just about broke my heart. And oftentimes that's precisely when J decides to act out -- boy oh boy do they figure out QUICK that when Mommy is breastfeeding she can't get up and drag me over to time out as fast usual, so Let the Bad Behavior Ensue!! So I have to stop loving on Jr. to see about J, and the poor baby is yet again soothing himself from the bouncy seat/swing/couch.

It sounds weird but Jr. and I have to resort to being secret lovers. After J is in bed, that's when I can freely snuggle up with the little guy in my bed, and stare at him and kiss his hands and sing songs that I keep to myself during J's waking hours because it's only a matter of time before he realizes that I'm singing HIS songs to the new baby. On Daycare Days like today, I can actually take a nap with Jr., and spend 30 minutes trying to coax a smile out of him, and dance around the living room with him, without feeling like I'm totally betraying J again. (Of course I also feel guilty even taking J to daycare, like the world's laziest mom, but that's a whole 'nother barrel of Mom-guilt for another day. Maybe if I called it "Preschool" instead of day care it wouldn't sound so bad to me). Jr. and I have to rely on these stolen moments to get to know each other -- he'll never get the complete undivided attention that J got for the past 3.5 years. When J is around, it feels like at least 75% of my energy is directed toward him--coming up with fun things for us to do so he's not parked in front of the TV/computer all day, trying to head off tantrums and bad behavior so I'm not spending my whole day doling out discipline, paying attention to when he seems sad or needy, attempting to coax the increasingly rare nap/quiet time out of him, etc. Because the newborn is so easy to take care of in comparison, I often get to the end of the day and look down at Jr. and think, "Hey, you. You've been attached to me for half the day but it feels like this is the first time I've really looked at you."

So we sneak around like we're having an affair, which I guess we are, kind of. And now it's 4 o'clock, time for me to go pick up my first love. Until we meet again on Friday, Jr.....

Phone Photo Friday - the Happiest Baby on This Block

2009-10-16T16:08:00.001-07:00

Ok I haven't read "The Happiest Baby on the Block" (yet) but I know that white noise or "shushing" is a part of the spiel. So today I downloaded a continuous loop of white noise and holy moly did that work like magic! Not that Jr. is a bad sleeper but I'm trying to get him used to being in the Bjorn less and in the bassinette more during the day. Add in a pacifier and voila! Baby asleep within 10 minutes without swaddling or carrying him around, and on his back no less. Gold star for Dr. Karp.

Disclaimer: My phone is a piece of shiznit. Not a cool iPhone or iTouch or Blackberry--more like an iHave-a-Relative-Who-Works-For-Sprint-So-I-Get-A-Cheapo-Phone. Hence the poor quality pic.

Adjustments.

2009-10-12T18:01:00.000-07:00

Before Jr. was born, everyone I talked to who had more than one kid, everything I read about it, said the same thing: Going from 1 child to 2 is a huge adjustment, much harder than going from 0 to 1. So I've been mentally preparing myself for awhile now that these next few weeks are going to be super hard, exhausting, lots of tears for everyone involved, etc.

However (and I know I'm jinxing this as I write it)....so far it really hasn't been that "hard." In actuality, my experience with incorporating Jr. into our life has been MUCH MUCH MUCH better than my experience when J was born. Looking back at myself as a first-time mom, I realize now that I had a really hard time those first few weeks, and was so much more stressed-out and anxiety-ridden than I am right now. I cried EVERY DAY for several weeks, whether it was over J's inability to take more than a 20 minute nap during the day or how much I hated breastfeeding in the beginning or just plain grieving for my old carefree life. I know what you're thinking - classic PPD symptoms. I agree. Somehow I didn't see it then, but now it seems so obvious and I feel kind of sad for me and for J during that time. Jr. is now 2 weeks old and I have yet to cry or even feel like crying. Tired, exhausted, frustrated with the 3 year old (and the husband) at times, yes. Sad, depressed, overwhelmed? Not yet.

Having J around has also made this transition easier for me in alot of ways, which I didn't expect. It's like I have a sense of perspective now that just wasn't there the first time around. When J was a baby, I remember thinking that he would never sleep through the night, that he would always have random screaming and fussiness, that we would be stuck in the super-needy frustrating little baby phase forever. Of course it was all over in the blink of an eye, and whenever I feel myself getting a little antsy while I walk up and down the hall with a wide awake baby at 2am, I can tell myself that "this too shall pass" and actually believe it this time. I'm glad that we decided to have another child if for no other reason than he's allowed me to know what it's like to feel confident and relaxed as a mother, something I didn't feel with J until he was at least 6 months old.

Overall so far it seems like it's just a matter of making adjustments. We've had a pretty good schedule going for the past 3 years, so it's been a challenge for all of us to figure out a new daily routine. Jr. has been doing pretty well sleeping in bed with us or next to us in the cosleeper, waking only to nurse and then (for the most part) going right back to sleep. Thankfully he doesn't make much noise at night so J is still sleeping well. In the mornings, however, it's a bit of a 3-ring circus, with J trying to jump into our bed while the baby is still laying next to me and TH rushing around to get ready for work and me still groggy and unable to get up early enough to get a shower in before TH leaves. Then the day goes by in a blur, with J watching waaaaay too much TV and eating too much "convenience" food (ugh I' m so ashamed, I broke down and bought Kid Cuisines, J didn't like them anyway) and the baby spending waaaaay more time in a bouncy seat or hanging out by himself in the bassinette then J The Blessed First Child ever did. Twice a week J goes to daycare so he can see his friends, I can get a break, and we can keep our usual routine going a little bit because it's only a few weeks before I'm back at work. At least Jr. is super mellow so far - this kid rarely cries except for when he's hungry. He's already good at soothing himself a bit when J is occupying my attention, and really doesn't fuss much about anything.

So far, so good. I know there are people who want me to say that this transition has been really hard and I'm losing my mind and regretting having another kid, but it just wouldn't be true. We're slowly adjusting and incorporating Jr. into our life, and yes we're tired and yes I'm a little more irritable than usual, but otherwise it's all good. We'll see if it lasts....

If I was smart, I'd be taking a nap right now.

2009-10-09T14:38:00.000-07:00

J is at a friend's house, TH is off getting a haircut, the baby is sleeping. I'm so totally going to "rest when the baby rests," as soon as I throw a few thoughts out there about the last couple of weeks.

First off, the birth. Or should I say, The Birth. Ever since I posted the words "ALL NATURAL BABY!!" on Facebook everyone I know (and I mean everyone) has been asking me about why and how and when and why?? I decided to do it this time without an epidural. (And let me set the record straight: it wasn't exactly all natural. We kick-started things with Pitocin but that was the only "intervention.") The answer is...I'm not sure. I just wanted to. Over the last couple of months of this pregnancy, I began reviewing my whole birth experience with J, and wondering if everything that happened really needed to happen. I can't say it was a "bad" birth experience - quite the contrary. When I remember back to that day it still feels magical and joyous and ranks up there as one of the Best Days of All Time. But I still had this nagging feeling that as a first-time mom, I was more of a passenger in that ride than the driver. Whatever the doctors recommended, I just shrugged and said, "Sure." Induction because I was 10 days past my due date? Sure. Narcotics to "tide me over" until the anesthesiologist could put in the epidural? Sounds good to me. Epidural before my water even broke? Whatev. Episiotomy? No problem, I'm numb from the waist down anyway. And so it went. And a healthy child was born, and we all lived happily ever after.

I don't know why, but about 2 months ago, I turned to TH while we were laying in bed watching TV, and out of nowhere said, "I don't want the epidural this time. I want to Go Natural. Do you think that's doable?" TH paused for a few minutes, and said, "Sure." That was it. I didn't do any research on natural childbirth, or watch any documentaries made by Ricki Lake, or read up on all the latest literature proving that natural childbirth has some advantage over anesthesia during childbirth. I just decided that I wasn't getting the epidural, unless I absolutely had to, and didn't really spend much time thinking about it otherwise.

Fast forward to September 29. For a variety of reasons including some worrisome blood pressure spikes, we decided to go ahead and induce labor since I was 2 days past my due date and there was no reason not to. Although I didn't research much, I was aware that being induced definitely lowered my chances of an otherwise drug-free birth. I knew from being induced with J that contractions augmented by Pitocin are pretty intense.

And intense they were. We checked into the hospital around 8am, and by noon my water was broken and I was clinging to the side of the bed for dear life, questioning my somewhat irrational decision to forego anesthesia. Thankfully my mom -- who delivered two 7-pound twins and my 8.5 pound little sister without any hint of anesthesia -- turned out to be a phenomenal doula, basically talking me down from the ledge when I really started to freak about the pain. I don't why this embarasses me, but it does: there was definitely freaking out. And yelling. Not screaming, but...yelling. Like how they yell in the movies, you know, "Oh my God, I don't think I can do this!" and "Oh Gooooooooood, pleeeeeeeease let this end" and (according to TH) "Someone kill me." I'm not a super demonstrative person normally, I rarely cry, I hardly ever yell or lose my sh-- in public, so the fact that I was actually yelling and moaning where other people could hear me is a good indicator of just how God-awful the pain was.

Thankfully -- THANKFULLY -- right when things got really hairy and I was this close to begging for the epidural, the nurse turned off the Pitocin because I "didn't really need it." (As it turns out, the real reason was more practical. The L & D ward was extremely busy that day with alot of emergencies, and my dr. had so many c-sections and deliveries that the nurse wanted to slow down my progression so someone other than my mom would be available to catch the baby.) That's when I discovered the HUGE difference between contractions with and without Pitocin. Suddenly, the pain was more manageable. Tough, but doable. Within 2 more hours, I was pushing -- another sensation that I had NO IDEA ABOUT during my first birth. Extremely weird for me. It was so...involuntary.

And then he was out, looking just like his older brother, even weighing the exact same as J. It's probably one of the more surreal moments of my life, like deja vu all over again. Here we were in the same hospital where we had J 3 years ago, and the moment was no different than the first time. Awe. Elation. Disbelief. Feeling like the clouds had opened up and an actual angel had been dropped into our midst. It was like he wasn't real to me until 2:46pm on 9/29/09. I hadn't realized how much I'd been keeping this baby at arm's length in a way, because of our previous losses and the nagging feeling that somehow this was all just a dream, I'd wake up tomorrow and find that I had hallucinated being pregnant again. It's hard to explain. But I can honestly say that all of my fears about not loving this baby as much as J went out the window the minute I looked at him, and the fact that I delivered him "naturally" was the cherry on top. I felt almost euphoric, full of energy -- definitely not the exhaustion I felt after J was born. I was up walking around, eating, calling friends (updating Facebook via my phone) almost immediately, and I couldn't get to sleep until almost 12 hours later at 2am because I was so frigging exhilarated.

So that's the birth story. It was wonderful, but there were moments where the pain was pretty much horrifying. I'm glad that I experienced natural childbirth because I'm fairly sure we won't be doing this again, but I can't fault anyone who wants the epidural -- I didn't use the word "horrifying" on accident. In the end, all that matters is that our new little guy is here, he's healthy, he's gorgeous, and--knock on wood--he's already a MUCH better sleeper than his older brother.

(Everyone on FB knows his name, but for the purposes of this blog, since he's named after TH we'll be calling him "Jr.").

Introducing Jr.: