Adventures of Bug & Munch

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2011-01-11T21:07:00.000-08:00

Well, after nearly a year of unuse, I am packing up this blog and moving over here. Blogging has been a creative outlet, a catharsis for me. I've missed you, old friend. Now come check out the new digs! It's nothing fancy, just me and my words.

Whee! I'm three!!

2010-02-01T17:44:00.000-08:00

Happy birthday, baby girl!

Dear Selection Committee:

2010-01-04T19:46:00.000-08:00

I am just writing to let you know that my Mother-Of-The-Year application will be mailed a bit late this year. I have a perfectly legitimate reason, so please hear me out and consider my candidacy for this prestigious award to continue in good standing, in spite of the tardiness.

As I was diligently preparing my application, I heard cries from the backyard. I rushed out to see that my child, while playing unsupervised on perfectly safe and properly employed climbing equipment had injured himself in some sort of fall. He was clearly in pain and needed tending to, so I was unable to complete my application at that time. I put it aside and planned to finish it later in the day when he could once again play unsupervised.

After complaining and wincing on and off in pain for the rest of the day, he went to bed for what would prove a fitful night of non-sleeping for both of us. Since his arm was significantly more swollen and painful when we got up Sunday morning, I prioritized a 3+ hour (I know, it could have been much worse!) trip to the ER over filling out the application. A fracture was diagnosed, but now that he's on the mend and things are calming down around here, I will be able to complete the proper forms and get them in the mail promptly.

Now I must sign off to get this letter in the mail to you before the postmarking deadline. The kids should be fine alone in the bathtub while I run down the street to the mailbox. I sure hope they are scrubbed and clean by the time I get back. I'm sure a mom wouldn't even be considered for Mother-Of-The-Year if she sent her kids to pre-school with grime behind their ears!

By the way, despite what it says in the contest rules' fine print about being disqualified if an injurious accident occurs while under the applicant's direct supervision, I would like to point out that my son clearly was not under my direct supervision at the time of the incident, so that shouldn't affect my chances at all.

Thank you, and please expect my forthcoming contest paperwork soon. I look forward to hearing from you.

Very Sincerely Yours,

The next MOTY

Photos to help plead my case:

Kudos to the mother of the creative genius that rigged this clever climbing apparatus. She should win hands down for inspiring such industry in her offspring.

Surely I should earn bonus points for the smile on his face, indicating that he is clearly unaffected by this minor little incident.

It's A Christmas Miracle!

2009-12-24T08:23:00.001-08:00

She likes him! She REALLY, REALLY likes Santa!!

Merry Christmas!

Fall Ball

2009-10-18T21:26:00.000-07:00

Dylan had his first t-ball game last weekend. What kind of mom would I be if I let the occasion pass without posting some of the highlights?

The proud papa, helping Dylan get ready for the game. It was also Scott's coaching debut... he is on his way to fulfilling a lifelong aspiration of fatherhood by being Dylan's coach.

First at bat.

A hit!

And a run!

Dylan got to be catcher when his team took the field. I'm not sure if he caught one ball, but he sure loved dressing out in all the gear!

...and he looked like the real deal, too!

The 100th

2009-09-19T20:37:00.001-07:00

According to my archives list, this is my 100th post. I have been putting it off because it has proved to be daunting. First of all, it has taken me just over 2 years to make it this far. Most bloggers that I admire passed this milestone well within their first few months of blogging! Second, I'm not really a meme-y kind of girl, yet I don't have an original idea of my own to mark this momentous occasion, so I will do what I have seen other bloggers do since that is why I started blogging in the first place.

So here it goes: 100 random things about me that you could probably care less to know. You already got 1 & 2 in the first paragraph. (Well, 3, if you count the fact that I also mentioned that this is my 100th post. You might not have known that about me before now.)

4. This list will probably never end up being even remotely close to 100. I'm okay with that the same way that I'm okay with taking as long as I have to publish 100 posts.
5. I will be 40 in three months.
6. I remember when 40 seemed OLD.
7. I wish I didn't.
8. Because now I am that OLD.
9. I don't have a "bucket list."
10. I don't really think I will ever have one, because I don't want to end up regretting the things that I couldn't quite cross off.
11. If I did make one, it would include traveling to all of the continents, except for two of them.
12. I would omit the icy, arctic-y ones.
13. I guess technically, I wouldn't have to travel "to" North America since I'm already here, but there are so many parts yet to see.
14. Even though we have decided that our family is complete and we're "done" having kids, I still REALLY want one more.
15. We won't have another one.
16. We are 99.9% assured that after a simple recent procedure, it would be a medical improbability.
17. At least I know that I will be able to enjoy a cocktail (or 13!) on my birthday.
18. With my amazing, complete family.
19. I sometimes regret that I didn't complete a more versatile degree in college than the one I have.
20. I am a teacher.
21. Technically, it's two degrees. I have a master's in education also. It only made me more versatile in that one career though, so it doesn't really count.
22. I have tried working from home since my kids were born.
23. What do you mean I can't earn a salary for educating my own kids?
24. I don't have the CV to support some great work from home freelance opportunity.
25. I would suck at having an actual "job" in my home anyway.
26. I lack the discipline to get things done in a timely, efficient manner that would probably be required in order to actually earn an income doing whatever it is I was doing from my home.
27. Look how long it took me to publish 100 posts and no one's paying me, it's just a hobby.
28. If I had more time to spend doing what I really like to spend my free time doing, I would probably just sleep more.
29. My house might be a little bit cleaner.
30. There might not still be size 3 month clothing in my daughter's dresser drawers.
31. I might have completed a few more projects.
32. I might publish my blog more frequently.
33. I might bake more cookies.
34. I might have a better song selection on my ipod.
35. I might exercise more.
36. I might eat better and plan more healthful meals for my kids.
37. Hopefully, I'd just play more Candy Land or Diego Bingo.
38. But definitely not Chutes and Ladders.
39. What? My kids like games. I play games with them. Does it make me a bad mother that I am picky about which ones I will play? I don't like Chutes and Ladders.
40. I was 6 or 7 when I got the Chicken Pox. My parents had plans to go away for the weekend and at the last minute my mom was scrambling to find family friends to take care of us who's children had already had the Chicken Pox. I remember the oldest daughter of the family where we ended up staying not letting me play Chutes and Ladders because I would get my Chicken Pox all over her game board. So I hate the game. Apparently my little 6-or-7 year old spotted self was not assertive enough to remind the beyoch that the only reason I had pox in the first place was because just a few short weeks prior, I had let her play Chutes and Ladders at my house and her chicken cooties got all over my board. So move over and give me that spinner. Yeah, I'm sure if I'd said that back then I would love to play Chutes and Ladders now. Stupid game.
41. I am drinking wine as I type.
42. Apparently typing while drinking is not so different than talking while drinking. My speech is becoming slurred through my fingertips instead of my mouth.
43. The backspace key is my new best friend.
44. You can't tell how slurry that last sentence just came out because I backspaced right over it.
45. But if I were speaking, you would know that I am well beyond my first or second glass.
46. Don't worry. The kids were in bed a few glasses ago.
47. I'm screwed if they wake up and really need something.
48. Actually, I'll probably care less. They'll be the screwed ones.
49. I did not sign up to single-parent.
50. I hate that about my husband's job most of the time.
51. Thus the need for multiple glasses of wine.
52. We are four days into a nine day absence of Dad in our household.
53. I know.
54. And I am.
55. Grateful.
56. That his job hasn't tanked with the economy. At least he has a job.
57. I'm not complaining, just feeling a little sorry for my lonely, single-mom self.
58. We'll get over it.
59. We always do.
60. Whenever he gets home from a trip, I end up thinking back to the week or so we were on our own and wishing I had been a better, more patient mom to my kids in his absence.
61. Maybe this trip.
62. Maybe we'll go to the zoo tomorrow instead of eating cereal right out of the box while watching cartoons and staying in our pj's until it's lunch time when I realize I have nothing in the house to eat except for cereal right out of the box.
63. Phoenix has a great zoo.
64. I grew up going to that zoo.
65. I am flooded with 39 & 3/4 years of nostalgia every time we walk through that gate.
66. Great. Now I'm back to thinking about when 40 was old.
67. Looking for more wine.
68. Not gonna feel like getting out of bed in the morning.
69. Let alone getting the cereal boxes out for the kids.
70. I might leave a note taped to my bedroom door about leaving me alone and with instructions for the TV remote so they can watch what they want until I feel like getting up.
71. They might figure it out.
72. Dylan read Hop On Pop the other day.
73. Not the whole book, just the title and some of the simpler sentences at the beginning.
74. It brought me to tears.
75. Yes, I just teared up again typing that.
76. Because he's just 4, he should still be little.
77. But he's figuring out reading, and so many other things that big kids do.
78. I might not be ready for him to be that big yet.
79. But I am loving every minute of watching him grow up and become himself.
80. I've made it to #80. That's closer than I thought I'd get before getting bored and hitting publish.
81. Now I'm determined to make it to 100.
82. But it's so late.
83. Note or no note, Sadie will be in my room before 7a.m. with her daily juice request.
84. It would be easy to fix her juice before going to bed so she won't have to ask for it and I won't have to get out of bed to fulfill her request.
85. But then I won't get her to go potty and change into underwear.
86. And she'll probably crawl into bed with me, snuggling up while sipping her juice.
87. And then I'll have to get up anyway because I'll end up laying there in a puddle of spilled juice.
88. And that might make me a little more grumpy than just waging the morning potty battle and rewarding her with juice to begin with.
86. Yeah, I'm still working on my Mom of the Year application.
87. And yes, I am loving every minute of watching her grow up and become herself, too.
88. I just might have a few more gray hairs of her doing than Dylan's.
89. Because she's just 2 but I swear she's going on 17.
90. Strong willed and fiercely independent put it mildly.
91. I'm so proud of her.
92. Of them both.
93. Every moment of every day.
94. I don't remember as a child aspiring to be anything in particular when I grew up.
95. I'm sure at some point I was indoctrinated to respond "a mom."
96. But I don't know that I ever pictured it.
97. Or is it just that the reality of everything that "Mom" encompasses obliterates the memory of anything that could have ever been imagined?
98. I'd like to say that I'm a better person because of my kids.
99. I hope they don't end up saying that they grew up okay in spite of me.
100. It's all a work in progress.

Friendly Relations

2009-08-23T18:08:00.000-07:00

The following conversation occurred between my (2 1/2 year old) daughter and myself the other day while we were discussing extended family members and their relationship to her.

Sadie: An-toh Pa-thit (Uncle Patrick) is my.... um.... I don't know.

Me: He's your uncle.

S: Oh, my an-toh. No a-choo-lee I think he's my boy-fend.

Me: No, actually he's your uncle.

S: Oh. I have 2 boy-fends at soo-ool.

Me: Two boyfriends? Who are your boyfriends at school?

S: Um.... Shamus is my boy-fend!

Me: Who's your other boyfriend?

S: Um... Ms. Tistin! (Ms. Kristin, one of her teachers) She's my boy-fend and I'm gonna marry her!

Me: Well, Ms. Kristin is a girl. She could be your friend that's a girl, but she can't be your boyfriend.

S: Oh. O-tay. Tistin is a goll and I am a boy. I can be her boy-fend. I wanna tell her that I will be her boy-fend, o-tay?

Me: Um, okay?

Great. Otay!

Overheard, Kitchen Version

2009-08-04T20:42:00.000-07:00

Dylan: (This one is far into the category of "bragging mom" quotes from her kids.)

Can I have some lemon-lade, please?

(Tastes it, wrinkles his nose, then promptly rejects it.)

It's too tart. (Tart? He's 4. Tart is an impressive word for 4.)

***

Sadie: (As we're putting the finishing touches on dinner with our backs to the table, which already has salad and bottles of dressing on it.)

DADDY! DAAAAAAAAAADDY! DADDYDADDYDADDYDADDYDADDY! I want some ranch, Daddy!

(We continue to prepare dinner while an ignored Sadie takes matters into her own hands.)

Daddy! I got A LOT of ranch!

Yes you did, Sadie. Yes, you did.

My Mother Made Me Do It

2009-08-03T22:03:00.001-07:00

There are a few things I swore I'd never do to my own kids before I had them. Mostly things that I remember being done to me as a child, and looking back they just seem like, well, bad parenting. Boy, did my kids get lucky today. I think they suffered through all of the above.

1. Try to get my kids to eat foods that they don't want by bribing them with sweets, or something that they would rather eat instead. (As in: if you just even try that one little bite of broccoli, then you can have this entire ice cream cone!) So the message here is that some food that might be really, really good for you doesn't always taste so great, but if you eat it you can reward yourself with this other food that tastes really, really good but isn't really good for you. I see eating disorders in their futures.

2. Bribe my kids to do anything with something. Our latest kick is gum. Dylan used to chew gum occasionally, like when he'd be around his older cousins and wanted to know what it was all about. Sadie recently asked for gum when Dylan got some. The timing was perfect with potty training and it became her reward when she was able to do all of her business in its proper place. Now it's just how I get them to do what I need them to do, like get in the car in the morning so I can get to work on time. They have gum now all. the. time. Soon it's novelty will wear off and I will have to come up with the next great thing. Do I really want them to learn that they should only do something that should be done anyway just because there might be something in it for them? And really, what am I going to do when they just don't want another piece of gum? Mom really needs to get to work, little people!

3. Tell them, "Okay, well I'm leaving now so I guess I'll see you later!" Wrong on so many levels. Just wrong. First of all, do I really want my kids to think that I am the kind of person who would actually leave them behind, should they choose not to follow me when it's time to go? And also, would I really, ever follow through on that threat? Yes, I do believe my children trust me, why do you ask?

So chalk this one up as a stellar day of parenting in our household. Nothing that a few years in therapy can't take care of.

What I really want to know is: When did my mom start teaching parenting classes and why did I think it would be a good idea to sign up for them?

Overheard from the Little People

2009-07-19T20:39:00.000-07:00

It seems like every day I overhear my kids say something that at least makes me laugh out loud, if it doesn't exactly have me rolling on the floor. I always think, "I should write this down somewhere so I don't forget it." But then of course I don't, so I do. Usually it is location humor (you had to be there and hear it first hand for it to actually really be funny), an unintended double entendre (which is only funny because apparently my sense of humor hasn't matured beyond jr. high), or an awww how cute (not really funny, but hey, I'm their mom, everything they do is endearing). Either way, I thought I would give the "installment in a series" approach to blogging a try, and so here is my first attempt at a "quote of the week" as overheard from the little people in my household blog post.

Dylan, said while walking past a store with automatic sliding doors:

Mommy, those doors opened up when I walked past. Those doors thought I wanted to go in there! That's silly!

Sadie, said while gathering an armful of toys to play with:

I got a LOT of balls!

(I warned you it would be a little adolescent-esque. It was really only funny because I had to turn around to see what she was talking about. I laughed when I saw her arms full of actual balls. It was funnier when she said it again as she was trying to take her brother's toy truck away from him. Okay, she didn't really say the last part. But that? Would not only have been funny, but a classic example of the caliber of parenting practices around here. You know, that they've actually heard one of us use that phrase in that context!)

So what funny things have you heard the little people in your life say lately?

Sleepwear

2009-07-14T22:27:00.000-07:00

Back in October, we set out to potty train our not yet two-year-old daughter. I wrote a couple of posts about our attempts. While she clearly wasn't ready back then, she learned all about the potty and how and when and where she might go. Sure enough, she let us know when she was ready and just as surely, somewhere along the way we've been able to consider ourselves the parents of a fully potty trained two-year-old. One day we were leaving the house fully stocked with wipes, lots of extra clothes, bags for wet and soiled clothes, pull-ups in case we ran out of extra clothes, and towels for the car seat. The next we left empty handed because we knew that accidents were a thing of the past. Being the proud owners of TWO potty trained children is very liberating. We leave the house unencumbered with diaper bags. We laugh at how we used to have to plan for potty emergencies and/or accidents. We wonder at how we went from training mode and several outfits a day to "done" and the same outfit from morning til bedtime. We have to stop to think about the last time she even asked for a treat for using the potty. And we scream at the top our lungs: WE ARE NEVER, EVER BUYING DIAPERS AGAIN, FOREVER AND EVER AMEN!

But the truth is that we're not really done. We never had to night-train Dylan. When we started potty-training him, he would wear a pull-up to bed. He just never woke up wet. So we quit buying them and he slept in underwear from then on. I can probably count on one hand the number of times that he has gotten up to go potty in the middle of the night (the point being that he GETS UP) and he's actually wet the bed maybe once or twice. He's been sleeping in underwear for at least 2 years.

Sadie, not so much. She wears a pull-up to bed and always wakes up wet. She's never woken and wanted to use the potty. I am at a complete and utter loss to know when she will be ready for underwear at night. Will she just stop peeing in her sleep? Will she start waking up to go? If I put her in underwear will she learn, or will I just end up doing a lot of extra laundry?

Apparently, it's not my choice to make. My not at all willful and stubborn Sadie has decided that she is no longer going to wear a pull-up to bed. Okay, she's ready, I think. She let us know she was ready for the rest of it, she's ready to take this on. Great, we'll try underwear. Here's how it's gone so far:

Night 1 - Around midnight, I heard her crying that she needed to go potty. (Midnight crying "I have to go potty" in Sadie's world actually means, "I went potty in my bed and I'm wet!") Easily solved with a towel over the wet spot and a change of clothes. Except she didn't go back to sleep for an hour and a half and got up 3x in that 90 minutes to go potty. But woke up dry the next morning! I, however, woke up feeling like I'd only slept for about 90 minutes the entire night.

Night 2 - Around midnight, I heard her cry out in her sleep. When I went to check on her, she was still sleeping but wet. Hmm... do I wake her to take care of the wet, and risk a repeat of last night, or do I let her sleep and bathe her in the morning? Mother of the Year, here! I let her sleep. (And maybe, possibly did a quik once over with a diaper wipe in lieu of an actual bath.)

Night 3 - She decided to wear a pull-up, which ended up soaking wet, but yea! I didn't have to launder sheets the next morning and air out the mattress. (And we both got a full night's sleep!)

Night 4 is tonight. She is in underwear and went potty 3x before finally staying in bed to sleep. I am planning to wake her to go once more before I go to bed. (PLEEEEASE, please, please, go right back to sleep!) We'll see how that goes.

I know it has only been a few days, but I'm kinda thinking she might not quite be ready for the underwear at night thing. I've never done this before so I don't know how I'll know when she is ready. Do I put my foot down and insist that she wear a pull-up to bed (I am the mom, right?) until I feel more equipped to deal with this, or do I let her keep wearing underwear and hope she'll figure it out?

Mission: Playlist

2009-06-30T21:50:00.000-07:00

I've been known to write a post or two about my running (or lack thereof). Between the heat, my job, 2 kids and a travelling husband, running has been almost non-existent in my life lately. My biggest excuse this time around has been that I need a good playlist to motivate me to get out of bed early enough to beat the heat and be done in time to get a shower in, get 2 kids ready, and make it to work. The music that had been on my ipod was downloaded a couple of years ago as I was getting ready for Sadie to be born. At least it was all uplifting, but a little too mellow to really get my feet moving and blood pumping. Being the technical wizard that I am, I never remember how to load and unload my shuffle, and when I finally sat down to try to see if I could figure it out, the cable malfunctioned.

In spite of a lack of music, I've made it out of bed and out the door before 5:00 for a run the last two mornings. And the entire time I run, I have this imaginary playlist going through my head. But since I only remember parts of songs, and those are way out of tune as I render them, it hasn't exactly been the ideal substitute. So I got a new cable today and was able to sit down and load some stuff on my ipod that I think will get me up tomorrow (and hopefully beyond!) morning. The mix is eclectic, to say the least. Here's a sample of what it includes: The Cure, David Cook, The Go Go's, Journey, Modern English, Jason Mraz, Ryan Adams, Foo Fighters, Fountains of Wayne, Nirvana, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by that Hawaiian guy, the Beatles, some Lyle Lovett and Dwight Yokum, the Police, and a vast assortment of my favorites from various TV and movie soundtracks along with some Spoon, Cake, and Nirvana. Oh yeah, and as a tribute to all of the fallen pop culture icons of my youth over the past week, I had to include some Michael Jackson.

What do you think? What's on your get-your-feet-moving-and-heart-pumping playlist?

*In light of the fact that it is nearing 11:00pm as I hit the publish button on this post and put the finishing touches on my perfect-for-running playlist, it's safe to say that my new shuffle mix will not be road-tested any time soon, as in Running Tomorrow Morning = Mission: Impossible!*

Saturday Morning Workout

2009-06-27T11:59:00.000-07:00

Who needs the gym?

Stay

2009-06-23T22:12:00.000-07:00

Bedtime with my 2 1/2 year old is challenging, to say the least. We moved Dylan to a big boy bed just before Sadie was born when he was about 22 months, because we didn't want to get another crib. And he was just ready. He never got up after being tucked in for the night. We moved Sadie to a bed at about the same age because she was beginning to try to climb out of her crib and we feared for her safety. This didn't bode well for her readiness to stay in bed for the night, and she's been pushing the limits ever since.

Not that we are perfect parents by any stretch of the imagination, but I think we've done a pretty good job through trial and error of making the boundaries very consistent so that once it is bedtime, she has no excuses to get back up. We have a story before bed. We brush teeth before bed. Potty time happens before bed and there's no getting up for the potty after bed. (For the record, before reporting me to CPS for abuse and neglect in not allowing my daughter to urinate after she's tucked in and possibly causing her to have multiple and severe UTI's, she still wears a Pull-up to bed and she has NEVER. ONCE. ACTUALLY. PEED. when we have let her get up to use the toilet after bed.) We are very clear with her about that after this and this and this happen, then it's time for bed. No room for ifs, ands, or buts, and for the most part, she adheres to the confines of her bed when it is time, but not without her fair share of whining.

I am all about giving her choices at bedtime so that she feels she has some control over the situation. "Do you want to brush teeth before or after you have your story?" "Do you want to get a drink of water now or after you go potty?" "Do you want to turn off the light or do you want Mommy to?" "Should I stay for 1 song or 2 (on her CD of lullaby music that she likes to listen to as she falls asleep)?" Of course she always says "2" which usually morphs into 3 or 4 by the time all is said and done. Because of everything that she can sneak into the equation in spite of all of the boundaries and consistency and choices. Like, wait, I need to give you another hug and a kiss; I want a kiss on this cheek, too; I need some dreams; more dreams; more dreams; scratch my back; kiss me again; I want some water. But especially the whine. "STAAAAAAAAAY," she will moan with her pathetically tired little voice that takes nerves of steel to resist.

I resist it for many reasons. I resist it because I am selfish about MY time after my kids have gone to bed and I simply want to leave her room and get on with it. I have books to read, TiVo to catch up on, blog posts to write, projects to finish, and sleep to get to. I resist because I believe that being firm with her boundaries will help her become more confident and independent, and somehow I have failed as a mother that she needs me too much and can't fall asleep without me next to her. I resist because I don't like to hear the whining and I'm afraid that giving in to it is teaching her that that's how to get what she wants. But sometimes she just needs me. And so I stay.

Tonight was one of those nights. As I was feeling frustrated at myself for giving in and not just a little manipulated into staying, I laid next to her gently rubbing her back. I watched her eyes drift shut and her face settle into a sleepy, contented smile, and my eyes drank in the perfection of her features with awe and wonder. She turned her face from me and I stroked her silky soft hair and inhaled its little-girl-sweet-mixed-with-outdoors-and-sunshine scent. And I stayed and breathed it all in, and stayed and breathed. And wondered why I'd ever considered it a chore to stay.

If the road to hell is paved with good intentions...

2009-06-16T06:57:00.000-07:00

...then the floors there are covered with well meaning, cream colored, low pile carpeting.

We moved into our house in 2002. The carpeting we still have now was here then. The owners previous to us had lived here a couple of years and hadn't replaced the carpet either. So we figure it's at least 10 years old. Two previous owner's dogs, our 2 dogs, a cat, 2 spit-uppy babies and potty-trained kids, many glasses of wine and apple juice later, the flooring has seen better days. It has gotten to the point that not only are we embarrassed to invite new people who've never seen the place over, we no longer entertain previous guests. We were reluctant to host a birthday party of four-year-olds because of the state of our flooring. (Go ahead and double click that photo for the full effect of the grossness that is our carpet.)

In the midst of a small remodeling project a couple of years ago, I realized that under our unsightly carpet, we had this pretty decent brown polished concrete floor. I have been thinking about it ever since. When I finally got Scott to admit that he too was embarrassed for the four- year-olds to play on our floor and that concrete might just be more desirable in the interim until we can afford to do what we really want to do, I saw an opportunity. While he tentatively admitted that might prefer the concrete to the carpet, he was unwilling to commit to a project involving removing the carpet and restoring the concrete. He was out of town last week, so I tore up all of the carpet in our living room and hallway. I hauled it to the dump and removed all of the tack strips around the rooms. I had every intention of getting those floors looking as pristine as possible before his return, but it just didn't happen. I didn't tell Scott I was doing it and I didn't want him to have to come home to this:

The floor is a little covered with glue and paint right now and I have been using this pretty fumy solvent to get it cleaned up. I can only take it in small doses and I really shouldn't be using it around my kids, so this project could drag on for a while. Also, the perimeter of the floor has holes from where the tack strips were nailed down. Here's the gist of the note I left him outside the door to read when he got back in town before he came in and saw the mess:

Hey Baby,

I really missed you, but could you be gone longer so that I could get my project done? I meant well when I started it, so please don't be mad. The kids were well taken care of and they are happy and healthy. That makes up for a lot, doesn't it? Just remember that tomorrow is our anniversary! And now at least you don't have to be embarrassed about the carpet anymore!

Love you,

So the floor isn't much to look at now, but he wasn't mad and we're both looking forward to continuing the project and getting on with our carpet-free life. See how pretty my floors will be when they're all cleaned up?

By the way, I really wanted to do my family room as well, but as I was removing the hallway carpet, I discovered that the floor in that room is covered with old school linoleum. I'm gonna need a lot more solvent!

Not exactly what I thought I was committing to at the time.

2009-06-13T15:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Scott's and my 5th wedding anniversary. We have been through some stuff since we've been together: a few surgeries, selling a house, buying a house, moving, waiting and waiting for him to finally propose, planning a wedding, getting married, a couple more surgeries and two kids. Having kids. There's something that absolutely nothing that has happened to you in your life before can prepare you for how much it will change everything. Yet here we are; together, happy, and healthy.

Maybe you thought from reading the title of this post that it would be about how marriage just isn't living up to all that I thought it would be. You'd be wrong. It's about my dinner last night.

We went to Quiessence, a rustic yet elegant restaurant located on a farm in the foothills of South Mountain. It specializes in unique flavors prepared from local, organically grown ingredients and you know you are going to drop some bones when you make a reservation for dinner. But what the hay... we were celebrating! We prepared to have our palates wowed to soften the blow to the bank account.

Our meal started with a complimentary champagne toast. So far, so good. They were out of our first choice of wine, but we were pleasantly surprised by the local Arizona wine they brought us instead. From Cochise County, no less. Who knew?

So we're into the bottle of wine, down the starter fruit and cheese platter, and then came the salads. I had ordered the calamari salad. (I know. The emphasis on "local" fare kinda goes out the window when calamari in Arizona enters the picture.) I've never raved about calamari, but the menu description of the salad had my mouth watering. I had only ever had it prepared one way: breaded and deep fried. A little a la T.G.I. Friday's for our location, but it was described on the menu as fried. So I guess I was expecting something pretty close to what is pictured below. A salad with a few deep fried calamari rings tossed in and classed up a little to match the sophistication of the evening.

Um, the calamari in my salad may or may not have been fried. It certainly wasn't breaded and it was most definitely not lacking tentacles. Long, curled up, covered with suction-thingy tentacles. I didn't eat a bit of it. The rest of the salad, as promised, was mouth watering. I ate every bit of it. And was left with a pile of squid limbs on my plate. Feeling a little embarrassed by having ordered the calamari salad and not eating any calamari, I considered wrapping it in a napkin and stuffing it in my purse. Purse not big enough. Scott had only eaten half of his (not calamari) salad, so we hid my pile of limbs under his untouched greens. Like they weren't gonna discover them and laugh their butts off at me in the kitchen anyway. Whatever. It was a nice place. It's not like they were going to spit in my grilled radicchio or something.

The rest of our dinner was fabulous. The evening ended up being a fitting tribute to five years of marriage with two kids to boot. Nice surprises, laughter and silliness, some tentativeness at not really being sure what we'd gotten ourselves into, taking things in stride, and just plain enjoying where we're at, even with a few unexpected limbs thrown into the mix.

Happy Anniversary, Baby! I would cala-"marry" you all over again!

Take Me Out to a Ballgame

2009-06-09T16:22:00.000-07:00

It is probably safe to say that baseball will always be a part of our family life.

Scott grew up playing Little League and then through High School, played in college and has spent most of his adult life playing in some sort of baseball league. He now eagerly awaits his chance to coach Little League, should Dylan show an interest in playing when he's old enough.

I have learned things about baseball since we started dating that I hadn't even known existed before. Like, what's a Slugging Average? Who knew that could matter so much?!

Waiting for opening day of spring training is like going to sleep the night before Christmas around here (for some members of this household, anyway).

Did you just feel that gust of air? That was Scott letting out a sigh of relief that his son seems to have taken an early liking to his favorite sport.

Dylan wants to go to baseball games and watch them on TV. He wants to stop by the park on a Saturday morning to watch the big kids playing. His knowledge of what is going on during a game already surpasses mine. He prefers baseballs, bats, and gloves to other sporting equipment and typical toys that most boys choose to play with. He dresses himself and Sadie up in Scott's old jerseys. He is right-handed, yet naturally takes a left-handed batting stance, thanks to persistent coaching from dad. (Don't ask me why. I guess it will be important later. See? He does know more already than I ever will.) He talks about getting to play on a team when he turns 5. (Did I mention how fuh-reaking adorable, not to mention more American-than-apple-pie he looks in a baseball cap? See? I can teach him important stuff about baseball, too!)

In the meantime, we all get to play baseball with him in the backyard. We take turns being the pitcher, catcher, and batter. Lately, after attending a few spring training and regular season games so far this year, the staging of backyard baseball games has some new additions.

First, before the game starts, one of us gets a turn to sing the "Nationally Adams." Later, after we've been playing a while, we take a break to sing every one's favorite baseball tune. You may have heard it before; it goes like this: "Take me out to the ballgame. Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and crack me up!" Because baseball is just that funny!

Hope you are spending the season enjoying your favorite pastime with your favorite people!

What Really Matters

2009-06-08T20:52:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems I've decided to end blogging hiatus #39 with a little post. I've missed you, internet!

The other day as I was completing some mundane task or other, my 4 year old made a comment to me that made me laugh out loud. And all of a sudden, I began thinking in blog posts again for the first time in a really long time. You bloggers out there know what I am talking about... you start to turn little every day occurrences into funny stories that would read well if you put such and such spin on them. And thus, you blog. So here I am contemplating the blog that I have been neglecting because my son made me laugh and I turned it into a funny story, which I will tell you later this week. Right now, I am blogging about blogging.

I know, boring. But it is better than not blogging.

So I started thinking about how long it had been since I had even thought about my blog, let alone tried to blog about anything. And so then I started thinking about why and what has gotten in the way. And I realized that I have made so many things matter too much that really don't matter at all because all of a sudden I have a real job and I go to work every day OUTSIDE OF MY OWN HOME and all of a sudden I am relevant beyond my own household. And I made that matter more than anything else because I was relevant. Outside of my own household. But I became irrelevant in my household which meant that I really had nothing to blog about because I wasn't focusing on what was happening here. So I'm still at the J-O-B but realizing it's just not that important, and I'm getting back to thinking about and doing the things that matter the most. Because when I neglect my family and household, I really have nothing to say that matters. And that made me think that what I am putting most of my energy into isn't really that important after all. No matter how relevant it might make me outside of my own household.

So whether you've missed me or not, I am back to blogging. I might not have anything that interesting to say, but what I do have to say matters to me, so I'll put it out there anyway. Happy reading!

I want it all.

2009-04-29T06:51:00.000-07:00

I decided to check in with the blogosphere and realized more than two weeks have passed since last posting, and my last posts were about Maddie. While I am still finding myself at a loss for words when I think about that tragedy, what I am finding myself truly at a loss for is time. Where do I find it? I am having a hard time finding that work/life/family balance since going back to work full time in January. When I do have down time, I just want to sleep. And then I wake up at ungodly hours like 4:30a.m. unable to return to sleep with all I have to get done flying around in my head. See? Here I am at 5a.m. I know I should be trying to squeeze in a few more moments of sleep because it's going to be a long day. Or packing lunches. Or gathering towels and bathing suits for swim lessons later. Yet I'm here writing this post just so I can say I blogged today and it hasn't been that long since I posted, and I deserve to go to BlogHer, maybe, next year.

All I really want to know right now, all you working moms out there: How do you do it?

In Memory

2009-04-14T14:30:00.000-07:00

Speechless

2009-04-14T06:54:00.001-07:00

I logged on to post last week, trying to make good on my commitment to nurture this hobby of mine, but haven't been able to type a single word. Each time I approached the internet, all of my words were washed away with tears, tears shed for a little girl that I never knew, and for her parents whom I've never met. I wasn't going to do this post because I don't know them. How could my words really matter in this time of what I can only imagine is engulfing them in grief and sorrow? But I couldn't write anything else, because the enormity of the loss of little Maddie makes nothing else matter.

So I am posting this today with sorrow for Mike and Heather, and with gratitude that I am able to hold my children close to me, and for the opportunities I yet have to look at the world through their eyes, to witness daily the miracle of them growing and becoming the people they are meant to be.

Mike and Heather, I am so, so sorry for your loss. From day one, your story has not been an easy one to tell. I appreciate every moment that I was able to stop your blog by for updates and stories that filled me with joy and wonder at the miracle that was your daughter. A simple thank you cannot begin to express the gratitude I feel that you have had to courage to share your story, Maddie's story with the world. Everyone who knew of your beautiful little girl will forever be touched by her life and by her passing.

To BlogHer, Or Not To BlogHer? Is there really any question?

2009-04-01T22:25:00.000-07:00

So I registered for BlogHer '09. Yea!, right? But, you know, with the economy the way it is, and spending money on needs, not wants right now, it just seems a little indulgent. I already paid my conference fee, but then there's getting to Chicago, paying for a hotel and having fun while I'm there. I mean, on the one hand it's not like I will ever be the "it" blogger, or write professionally; I don't do any kind of product reviews or look to generate revenue through my blog. It's just a hobby. And I don't know ANYONE who will be there except I read their (amazing) blogs and maybe they will notice me over here in my little corner of the blogosphere waving. Oh yeah, that's me, hi.

And then there's the fact that someone is bound to call IPS (Internet Protective Services) and report my ass for the profound neglect that I have inflicted upon my blog. I mean, how much time do I really spend with it lately? Updating twice a month (if that, recently) isn't exactly quality time. It just took me 3+ hours to catch up reading the blogs I follow. What kind of bloggy friend is that? Jeez, I barely have time as it is for the 27 hours of tivo that I have to watch each week. Who needs to fix dinner and bathe the kids? Mama needs to watch some Must See TV and do her a little blogging! Priorities, people!

On the other hand, my blog is the one creative outlet in an otherwise completely-devoted-to-my-real-responsibilities life. It's getting back to my writing roots, which I foolishly brushed aside somewhere along the way without a second thought at the time. What price do you put on that? At what point does the effort I put into reading blogs that I enjoy and keeping up my own blog cross the line from healthy interest to obsession? And does it warrant a trip to Chicago this summer for BlogHer? (Did I mention my own vacation, by myself, without kids or husband? Yea, me!)

I have always kinda sucked at nurturing friendships in my life. Apparently this goes for any relationship, not just the people kind. My blog life has been suffering since jumping into new responsibilities with a job outside of my home. And I miss my blog life. Even though it's just me over here in my little corner waving sheepishly, it has so much potential. I used to read my faves every day. I was getting to know you. I was less timid about leaving comments, letting you know I was hanging around. But then I started coming around less frequently, and putting myself out there only every once in a while. Who hangs on for that?

It comes down to this: I can sell my conference pass and forget about going to Chicago. No big deal. Maybe next year. Or I can go this year. I can get motivated to nurture my blog relationships and work on connecting with other bloggers. Me being part of the blogging community might not matter to ANYONE else other than myself. Being connected to something greater than oneself is pretty powerful. But is it worth the guilt that this trip might be a little too self-indulgent when times are calling for restraint?

That is the question.

Now You Are FOUR!

2009-03-15T18:01:00.000-07:00

(A week late, but better than never.)

Long gone the cuddly baby days

replaced with all your little boy ways.

First one, then two, next three, now four!

"Hooray!" you shout, "Today, I'm 4!"

Riding a bike, even roller skating,

putting out fires and lots of pretend-making.

Baseball, singing, climbing, swinging,

Laughing, growing, learning, being.

Becoming you, changing fast,

before we know it another year will have passed.

Today as you're four you should know we're so glad,

our hearts burst with pride that we're your Mom and Dad!

Happiest birthday, and have an amazing year, Dylan!

Love,

Mom and Dad

All the cool kids have 'em

2009-03-01T06:22:00.000-08:00

The other day Dylan got a hold of a dead Blackberry in his preschool classroom. He decided it was his for the day and carried it around in his pocket. His teacher let me know after school how useful it was to him.

He had several random phone conversations throughout the day.

On their way to music class, he asked everyone to hold on a second and announced that he had to switch the phone to vibrate.

During music class, he pulled the phone out to view the text message that his dad had sent him.

Giving it up at the end of the school day was a tough sell, since he had scheduled a conference call with some colleagues.

Likely gift for his impending 4th birthday? Um, no. First of all, I didn't know he even knew about all those cell phone functions, let alone how to use them. Second, he can't quite even really read a text yet.

But it got me thinking about technological advances since I was a kid. You know, a la all those emails going around titled "You know you were a kid in the seventies/eighties if..." you remember things like the VHF dial on the TV or how to actually use a rotary phone. And wondering about what kinds of gadgets will be obsolete by the time my kids are my age. And at what age is it okay for a kid to get a cell phone, or will they even be around by the time mine "need" one?

So tell me, what is your favorite obsolete item from childhood? What current technology can't you or your kids live without?

How I Lost My Mom-of-the-Year Award, Chapter 378

2009-02-26T20:02:00.000-08:00

The following conversations occurred in my household a few evenings ago.

**

We were having dinner and Sadie grabbed the salt shaker. "Oh shit!" I yelled, as she proceeded to dump a pile of salt on her plate before I could grab it away from her. A few moments later, she knocked over her cup, spilling milk across the table. "Oh shit," she yelled.

**

Later the same evening, I was trying to corral the kids out of the house to go watch Scott's softball game. It was the end of a very long day (still getting used to the work and day care routine - how long do I get to use that excuse for?) and I will be the first to admit that I was far from in my best parenting frame of mind. In a last ditch effort to please-OMG-can-we-just-be-in-the-car-and-driving-for-the-love-of-all-that-is-good-and-I-cannot-be-patient-for-one-second-longer, I screamed out to the heavens, "Just get in the fucking car already!" Moments later as Sadie climbed into her car seat, Dylan noticed that her shoe had fallen off. "Get your fucking Croc," he told her.

**

Oh shit, but we are so fucked. Do I get any points for the fact that at least they are using the words in the proper contexts?

Parallels

2009-02-11T20:44:00.001-08:00

I had to parallel park my car last night. I hadn't parallel parked since 2001.* You can get by just fine in this metropolis without ever having to parallel park. You don't even have to do it to pass your driving test for a license. I chose to take that parking spot because it was right outside the garage that would have charged me $2 an hour to park. It was the only available, free-of-charge spot.

I had to rack by brain for a few moments before I attempted. Is it ease in front ways from the back, or is it back in from the front? Oh yeah, it must be back in from the front, which is why I avoid parallel parking like the plague. I really suck at backing in. Oh well, here goes nothing.

I pulled up next to the car in front of the empty spot, threw the car into reverse, and started backing in. Piece of cake, right? Oh GOD this is why I NEVER, EVER parallel park. Because I can never just ease right into the spot. I know I have room. I saw the space. I know how big my car is. I can do this. No I can't. Put it in park. Let me just get out and double check how much room I have in front and behind me. Okay, I'm definitely good. I'll scoot right in there, no problem. Wait. Didn't that car just drive past a moment ago? Did he turn around? Is he waiting for me to FAIL in my attempt to park the car? OMG! He is circling and waiting for me to give up so he can get my spot! OH NO HE IS NOT GOING TO GET THIS SPOT!

So yeah, it took me about 20 minutes of back and forth easing, getting out of the car more than once to visualize my position to finally get it, but I parallel parked my car last night. And I am sure that another 8 years will have to pass for me to do it again. But I'm almost certain I heard applause as I walked away from the car clicking it locked with the remote. What do you know? My circling vulture turned into a cheerleader.

This post was going to be meaningful, like about how parallel parking is some sort of metaphor for my life, or motherhood, or whatever it is I'm doing here. How it is this constant seemingly futile inching back and forth while gaining no ground with vultures circling, waiting for me to fail so they can say, "I told you so!" And in the end I somehow pull it off. Small little victories every day that someone, or no one, may notice, but that give me a tiny glimpse of insight into the fact that I might just be doing something okay. But take from it what you want. Maybe it is just a silly story about how I am afraid to attempt things that are difficult for me, like parallel parking, so I wait 8 years to try again and miss out on all that satisfaction that comes with accomplishing a small, simple task that should be easy but somehow isn't. Hmmm...

*My 2001 story is pretty similar, except I had a friend in the car with me "coaching" me through it. I ended up with a bruise on my arm from when she suddenly remembered the proper car positioning for a successful parallel park and punched me. And there was no applause that time, just angry, screeching tires. But how I remember it was 2001 is because the Diamondbacks had just won the world series and we headed to the ballpark after work to buy official MLB merchandise. You do kinda have to know how to parallel park to get anywhere in downtown Phoenix where the ballpark is. Which is why I avoid the area unless my husband is driving. And why it has been eight years. Just one more reason to hail the advent of the light rail route through the city!

What a Croc

2009-02-09T18:33:00.000-08:00

My kids have long been fans of the Croc. I have long been a fan of the Crocs for my kids. (Well, not actual Crocs, just the knock-offs that Target sells. Because I am NOT gonna spend $29.99 for a pair of foam rubber, made in China shoes that my kids'll outgrow in 2 months.) They are easy to get on and off and eliminate a huge part of the getting-dressed-and-out-of-the-house battle every day.

I have lingered on the idea of getting some for myself, but just can't get over that I don't like the way they look on my feet. And that they are so trendy. I haven't let myself think about how comfy they might be because I didn't want to actually have a pair to claim as my own.

And then I discovered the Croc outlet and all my will power to resist is gone. Because ohmygodbuttheyaresofreakingcomfyIneverwanttotakethemoff. Ever. And it's the outlet. Most pairs are $14.99, and they are all buy-one-get-one 50% off. Which makes them only $7.50. Cheaper than the knock-offs at Target. So this weekend I replaced Dylan's worn out fakes with an actual pair, Sadie got a pair of flower-printed light blue maryjanes to add to her stash (Grandma and Poppa sent the pink pair for her birthday). And yes, I even got a pair for myself. It was all I could do to pry them off of my feet to take this picture. I'm afraid that I am ruined for real shoes for the rest of my life. My poor kids never stood a chance. They have so young been corrupted by a mom who easily succumbs to peer pressure and buys them trendy (but comfy!) shoes. At least their feet will feel really, really good.

My guilt runneth over

2009-01-28T18:51:00.001-08:00

I recently (meaning within the past 2 weeks) went back to work after being a SAHM since Dylan was born. The situation could not be more ideal... I am working right where Dylan goes to preschool. I (supposedly) work 5-6 hours a day. I am not paying for daycare. I am absolutely head over heels in love with the care providers charged with my children and they are happy there.

All that being said, it hasn't been an easy adjustment for any of us. I have never in my entire life before last Monday had to be anywhere on any sort of time schedule with two kids in tow. Out the door with some semblance of put togetherness and lunches for the kids and me packed. Out the door and on time every day. My kids have never been in daycare and the days seem endless to them. They weren't napping very well and bedtimes have been just short of disastrous.

I am trying to keep it together for all of us. I have gotten myself up early to get ready and pack lunches so that by the time the kids get up I can devote all my energy to getting them ready and (hopefully) prevent losing my patience. They have never seen me cry as I leave them at the door of their daycare rooms. We do fun mommy and kid stuff together when my workday is done. I tell them that I am so proud of what grown up kids they are to go to daycare because mommy needs to work. All the while I am so close to tears I can hardly keep them at bay in front of the kids any more. But I'm keeping it together.

So how my precious Dylan had the insight to say what he said to me this morning as we were driving to daycare is beyond me. Like he knew it's been hard on me even though I am trying not to let it show. Like he knew I needed him to tell me that everything is okay and I am being a good mom anyway. Like he's just a great kid, a great brother yet such a typical little boy. He said, "Mommy? Know what the best part of my day at daycare is? After nap cause we go outside and Sadie's out there too and I get to see her. That makes me really happy. Also when you put spicy chips (Doritos) in my lunch."

So I will continue to wage war with my guilt and I know that eventually we will find the right balance for us. My house needs to be cleaned, I haven't vacuumed for two (eeeww!!) weeks, there are dishes in the sink, and clean laundry is scarce around here these days. I am not doing what needs to be done, but I am doing what I need to do. I am holding my kids more, playing with them more, reading to them more, really talking with them, and making sure that they KNOW they are the most important thing to me, even though we aren't spending as much time together. So yeah, we'll figure it all out, just as long as I never run out of Doritos.

(And yeah, I'm crying right now. Cried through composing this whole post. It's okay. They're asleep so they will never know.)

(And also yeah? I know I am blogging right now instead of doing what needs to be done.)

You know your parenting skills may be lacking when...

2009-01-27T19:57:00.001-08:00

the minimum wage paid Target employee tells you that you should really make sure that your children are properly secured into the cart. The minimum wage paid, pimply faced, cocky teenage red shirt khaki pants wearing, scanner thingy toting, young enough to be my cocky teenager. Yes, he did.

*ahem*

I guess he told me. Moments after my encounter with said employee, I rounded the corner where I failed to heed the warning of the yellow "slippery when wet" sign. That sucker WAS slippery... butt planting on the ground and nearly toppling my cart in the process slippery. Yes I did. It's a darn good thing my improperly buckled children were holding on for dear life to their Icees. (It's how we get things done around here. They get a treat and slurp away happily in the cart while I get to shop. Everyone leaves the store happy, if just a tad sticky, over-sugared and sometimes possibly overdrawn.)

I wonder if pimple-face has stopped laughing yet.

I need to find a new Target.

On Becoming Two

2009-01-24T00:00:00.000-08:00

Every cherished moment lived and loved,

as we watch you grow and become your own little person

we stop to look, to take a breath, and can't help but gasp

in awe of the precious baby you once were

and wonder at the amazing child you are.

Happy, happy birthday sweet, beautiful girl.

You are so Sadie, our Sadie.

We can hardly wait to see

what the next year of your life has in store!

Photo finishes and other things I learned about racing

2009-01-18T14:31:00.000-08:00

So I ran the P.F. Chang's Rock and Roll Half Marathon on Sunday. I finished! I am not a very fast runner and never will be. I came in under my goal of three hours, at 2:53. Considering I wasted about 25 minutes waiting to use every port-a-john on the course between miles 1 and 7 (too much coffee at the start?), I am very happy with my time. And hey, I got the same exact medal as the guy that came in first.

After crossing the finish line, there was a runner-secure area. Someone handed me a medal, someone else water and then I was shuffled here and there to get an official finish line photo taken. Everything was all a little blurred through the euphoria of finishing the run and the anxiety of searching the crowd for my friends and family. I was a somewhat dazed, to say the least. Anyway, the finish photos were posed in front of a logo'd backdrop right before exiting the racers-only area. Apparently, the race number must show in the pics so that they can identify the runners and market them online later. I had my number pinned on my back. The photog asked me to turn around and strike a pose. I thought he would just snap the number and then take a real shot, so that my picture could later be identified because it would be next in the cue to the one with my number. That made sense to me. So I turned around with my backside to the camera and I heard, "Click. Next, please." But wait, that's not my real photo, is it? You're gonna let me do it again, aren't you? "Nope, next please." Needless to say, I will not be purchasing my finish line photos! Next time, I guess I will pin my number to the front of my shirt. I may never purchase the official race sanctioned photos, but at least I won't make a complete ass of myself in the photo area.

*

I discovered why live blogging by runners during events will never really catch on. Here is a sampling of the texts I was sending during my run:

mile 1 have stopps to pee

peing agaan

again

stopps to pi agin

jsut passed h alfway peeng againslc.

at galvin and priestf (in response to the question where was I? There is no such intersection!)

less tladjfna 2 lflsdkjft

And now my cell phone seems to be shorting out. I wonder if the dried, salty sweat stains all over it have anything to do with that.

My kids were darn cute rockin' out and cheering me on between miles 11 and 12.

*

The race was four days ago now and it still hurts to stand up. But I ran 13.1 miles. Yes I did! And next year I'm going for the full 26.2.

Yeah, I taught her that.

2009-01-12T08:31:00.000-08:00

The other day, I was driving with Sadie in the car. We were nearly in an accident, although it would have only ended up being a small fender-bender.

I had just entered the left-hand turn lane (completely within my right-of-way) and a jerk in front of me to the right decided to swing on over. I had to slam on the brakes and swerve left (potentially into oncoming traffic) to avoid being hit. I laid on the horn as I felt the surge of adrenaline.

You know that moment when you are in the midst of protecting yourself and your loved ones from perceived danger and you feel that rush of energy? When your heart starts racing and every ounce of your good sense and judgement are thrust into getting out of danger? That moment when you are just starting to realize that the situation has been averted and you are desperately trying to regain your composure so that you can appropriately answer the "whys" coming from the almost two year old in the back seat? Do you know which moment I am talking about? It was in that moment that Sadie and I had the following conversation:

SADIE: What, Mommy, what?

ME: That guy was driving like an ASSHOLE! That's what!

S: Asshole, Mommy? Asshole?

ME: Um, yeah, baby, that's what I said.

S: (proudly) Oh, asshole!

(Repeatedly bangs head against steering wheel in defeat.)

The New Do

2009-01-10T20:10:00.000-08:00

Due to an overwhelming response, but mostly because of my own personal preference, we went with the no-bangs-bob.

Hair-cut day was an smashing success, as my little Sadie was quite the pampered princess. Yea! She is looking forward to a long career of salon visits.

Most importantly, everyone (especially Dad!) was very pleased with the results. Here are a couple shots of Sadie showing off her sassy new style:

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

2009-01-06T13:55:00.000-08:00

I know that I have not posted to my blog for *aack* nearly two weeks, so I do not deserve any feedback whatsoever. But help a girl out and maybe I will feel encouraged to stick to my resolution of blogging more consistently!

I am probably setting myself up for some sort of catastrophic adolescence with my daughter here, but so far I consider myself lucky as the mom of a little girl who lets me indulge in girly things with her. She is all about playing with my make up brushes as she watches me get ready in the mornings, putting on "lipstick" (I swear I only let her use clear balm. REALLY!), letting me paint her little toenails pink, and wearing my heels (the one pair I actually own) around the house. And oh, her hair. She is all about the hair. If I don't make a move to get out the comb and the case full of hair doodads as we are getting dressed each day, SHE WILL REMIND ME. She asks me to put styling products in it. She wants barrettes and rubber bands all over. She lets me do whatever I want to her hair. I have put curlers in it to make her a Shirley Temple look-a-like. I even get to french braid it. She sits still the whole time and asks me for more.

The problem is, I desperately want to cut her hair. She's had one haircut, about a year ago, and just the bangs. Now her bangs are grown out to chin length. I really want to get all of her fine baby ends chopped off and have all of it cut to the length of her old bangs.

I thought the hard part would be convincing Scott to let me get her hair cut short. He's on board, so I called and made an appointment for later this week, before he can change his mind. Now I'm the one who's having a little remorse. Is shorter, easier hair going to "cure" her of wanting me to style it in cute, girly ways?

Anyway, I am posting a couple of celebrity kid styles for you to help me choose:

We can go with the Suri Cruz look, with bangs. Personally, I am not a fan of the bangs. I think they are to die for on girls like Suri with thick, glossy hair. Not so much on fine, mousy haired girls like my Sadie. The reason her hair is two different lengths in the first place and making me crazy is because I had bangs cut on her which I later didn't like and wanted grown out.

The second option is to go with this very chic Dakota Fanning; the bob with no bangs.

The third option is the easiest, but possibly very dangerous. Easy, because I would just leave her hair the way it is and keep doing what I am doing, but dangerous because it might make me so insane that I would have to sneak into her bedroom one night and snip it off myself.

I think we'll go with option 1 or 2. It is almost her birthday, and she should have a cute, sassy new look to go with her new age, no? Besides, there's always pink nail polish and lipstick. Either way, I will be sure to post "after" pics. The appointment is Thursday, so check back!

Naughty or Nice?

2008-12-23T20:45:00.000-08:00

Scott had a conversation with the kids this evening about Santa's upcoming visit. It went something like this:

SCOTT: You know, Santa's supposed to come in a couple of days to bring presents for you guys. Have you been good this year, or naughty? Do you think he'll bring you lots of stuff?

DYLAN: I have been good! Santa will bring me some presents!

SCOTT: What about you, Sadie? Have you been good?

SADIE: No, I naughty. Hee hee.

Well, that about sums up life around here. Merry Christmas, and happy two-year oldness to us!

The Great Santa Visit of '08

2008-12-17T09:19:00.000-08:00

If you are wondering how it went, I guess it all depends on your perspective. In theory, both kids were beyond thrilled with the concept of sitting on Santa's lap and talking to him. In actual practice, not so much. But we got a picture of both Sadie and Dylan with Santa, which is all that I wanted, even though only one of them was happy about it.

Here is Sadie, excitedly waiting for her turn to get a peek of Santa around the corner.

She was over the moon when she finally caught a glimpse! I see Santa! I see Santa! I seeee hiiiiiim! Scott lifted her up to get a better view over the heads of the other waiting families. She nearly jumped out of his arms screaming with joy Hi Santa, Hiiiiiiii Saaaaaantaa! Hiiiiiiii!! and waving frantically. We were enthusiastically hopeful that the actual sitting on the lap would go well, to say the least.

When it was finally our turn, Scott took these pictures of Dylan sitting with Santa and having a great conversation about what he might bring him for Christmas, while I was trying to pry a petrified and screaming (no longer with joy) Sadie from my body to place her on his lap.

So come on and get it over with, already Sadie!

Final verdict: Dylan thinks Santa is AWESOME! Sadie pretends to, unless she is actually presented with the reality of coming into contact with him. I'll take it for this year... we got at least one kid over the trauma. There's always next year.

Hope Santa brings you everything you could hope for this Christmas!

Just for the Smell of It

2008-12-12T20:56:00.000-08:00

Don't call me a scrooge, but this year we have *gasp* an artificial tree! And I have never been happier about anything in my whole life! First of all, as of writing this post, it has already been up for an entire week! In the past, when we've had a "real" tree we haven't gotten it until about a week out, because I am always so disappointed at how dried out and decrepit it looks by Christmas morning. I end up being ready to toss it into the alley by late in the afternoon on Christmas day. But not this year! No siree! Our tree will look as good the week after Christmas as it does today, hokey ornaments aside.

I have never been anti-artificial tree. I just had to convince my husband that some traditions aren't worth it. I actually really love the idea of getting a live tree. I love the ritual of getting it... the crisp evening air, bundling up and piling in the car to head to the nearest tree lot, the overwhelming scent of having stepped deep into a pine forest as soon as the car doors open, the tinny sounding speakers spewing Christmas tunes to drown out the noise of the chainsaws in the background as workers ready the chosen trees to go to their prospective homes, wandering through the forested lot to find the perfect tree and staking a claim on it.

But just about as soon as that tree is tied to the top of my car to tote home is about where my love affair with the live tree tradition has always ended. Because as lovely as the whole evening has been, dealing with a live tree just becomes more of a mess than it is worth, at least for me, anyway.

So last year I happened to be out shopping a few days after Christmas and noticed the substantial clearance discounts on trees. We had just dumped our (way past ever having even closely resembled a live) tree in the alley a couple of days earlier and were still vacuuming needles and scrubbing sap off of every imaginable surface of our home. Fate then intervened in the form of perfect timing when I asked Scott if he might consider the possibility of purchasing an artificial tree for next year. He agreed that being able to get a very realistic looking "fake" tree (Why they're called "fake" I don't know... they're still Christmas trees, right?) at about a gazillion percent discount was a way better option than ever going through that mess again. Believe me, if I had waited to propose the idea of a "fake" tree at the beginning of the season this year, he would have long forgotten the horror and put his foot down.

Now, I am not a total scrooge, and as beautiful as my fake and hassle free tree is (did I mention pre-lit? It's pre-lit... no stringing lights!!!!! I just plugged the tree in. Just. Plugged. It. In.), I can understand his melancholy for the going and getting of the live tree. So next week we'll bundle up to head out to a parking lot filled with a pine forest, listen to some tinny music while wandering among the trees to inhale the Christmasyness of it all, and then collect a few discarded branches to bring home and weave a wreath out of. Just for the smell of it. Because even as happy as I am, I have to admit, I do miss the scent.

You've gotta love this tree topper. I know you can't see very well because the shot is a little blurry, but it's the Abominable Snowman from Rudolph, holding a star and reaching to place it on top of the tree.

My absolute favorite vision of Christmastime from childhood is looking at the lit up tree all squinty-eyed until I could just see a blur of tiny lights. My camera sans flash recreates it just as it looks in my memory.

My current favorite vision of Christmas time!

The Evolution of Christmas

2008-12-08T13:13:00.000-08:00

The Williams Family - Perpetuating the ~~myth~~ magic since 2005

Since we have been prepping the kids for a visit to the guy in red, I am feeling a little nostalgic over past years' Santa pics, so I thought I would share them with you here.

Christmas 2005 - This was Dylan's first Christmas. We had previously ridden the Polar Express all the way to the North Pole and met Santa in person, so he was all geared up to sit on his lap when we went to get pictures with him. All the parents with crying children who had refused to sit on his lap were jealous when Dylan reached for him and smiled, while willingly posing for a picture. Alas, this ease in visiting with Santa only lasted one year.

Christmas 2006 - Any pleasant memory or amount of enthusiasm previously shown towards the idea of visiting Santa and being left ALONE ON HIS LAP vanished the second it was time to do so. Although it appears as though Dylan was reaching up to sweetly stroke Santa's beard, he was actually pushing against his chest to get away from him. Even though the photographer had yet to get a picture that we liked, Santa just couldn't take it any more. So we were left to chose between shots of our child screaming in apparent agony, or of Santa with his eyes closed. Not crying child won, since it's really all just about him anyway.

Christmas 2007 - Sadie's first Santa experience. As pleasantly surprised as we were at how easy Dylan's first pictures had been, we had no such delusions that Sadie would be in any way, shape, or form willing to be anywhere near Santa, even with her big brother right there. Our plan was to get Dylan settled and happy, then swoop in with Sadie and snap a photo before she knew what had hit her. Obviously, no such luck since we naively assumed that since Dylan was the big kid now, he would have been completely over any previous Santa trepidation. So we settled for least amount of crying from Sadie. And Dylan just looking like he's trying really hard to smile instead of cry.

So we'll see what this year's Santa visit/photo session brings. So far the kids both seem very excited and are discussing daily what they will ask him for for Christmas when they get the chance to see him. A mom can at least HOPE that her children appear overjoyed, and not tortured, to see Santa!

Vigilant Parenting 101

2008-12-04T17:45:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: No children were harmed in the blogging of these incidents. We do not take water safety lightly in this household. We have a security fence around our pool and the kids are NEVER allowed on the pool side without one of us right there with them. They are NEVER unsupervised under any circumstance in which they might have access to the pool. This post is meant to be a lighthearted commentary on one of those every-day occurrences that happen as we fumble our way through parenting. If you think you might be offended by my making light of what could have been a very serious situation, and are tempted to leave a comment about our parental inadequacies, please do not read any further. Otherwise, stick around. Hey, if this could happen to us, with all of the points that we have toward "Parents of the Year," then maybe you're not doing so bad yourself!

This photo is the aftermath of Dylan falling in the pool a couple of weeks ago. Yep, he did. Now before you go thinking that we are really bad parents for letting our kid get close enough to the pool to 1) fall in in the first place and 2) when that water had to be sub 60 degrees, let me relate how the event unfolded. First, I would like to say that I was in the kitchen making dinner when this happened. While I would never say that it happened on Scott's watch so he is totally to blame, he was outside with the kids at the time and, well, it happened on his watch. Just sayin'.

Dylan had thrown the ball over the pool fence and he went with Scott to retrieve it. Scott was with him the whole time, I SWEAR! Not that I actually saw it happen, because I wasn't on kid duty so I can just tell you what was told to me. I know it wouldn't be admissible in court. Anyway, at some point during the ball retrieval mission on the forbidden side of the pool fence, Scott's back was toward Dylan because Sadie was having an absolute conniption fit on the other side of the fence about the fact that she was left alone over there. So Scott was in the process of trying to comfort her, or encourage Dylan to hurry up so that everyone could be on the same side of the fence again and the tantrum would be alleviated, or something that apparently required his back to be toward Dylan. And then he heard the SPLASH. Of course, he was there in an instant and pulled Dylan out in a matter of seconds and everything was okay. (Until I saw them through the kitchen window standing by the edge of the pool, Dylan dripping wet, and figured out what was happening. Sadie was then not the only one throwing a fit and we may have had to call 911 at some point but not about the near-drowning.)

To Dylan's credit (according to sources, anyway) by the time Scott made it to the pool's edge to pull him out, he had turned around to face the side, his head was above water, and his fingers were centimeters from grasping the edge and pulling himself out. And he didn't even cry! If we had been testing his water-coping skills, he would have passed. I told you we aren't doing so bad after all!

To give Scott some credit, I think the incident that did happen on my watch a couple of days later may have been just a little bit worse, were it not so side-splittingly funny. It was bath time, I had the water running in the tub while I was getting Sadie undressed in her room down the hall from the bathroom. (I know, bad Mom, not supervising in the immediate vicinity while the tub is filling up. I kind of had it coming.) I heard Dylan yell "I haaaaave to peeeeeeee!" From the sound of his voice, I could tell that he was running toward the bathroom. Then I heard the splash. And the instantaneous sobbing. As I rounded the corner from Sadie's room, I saw that no, he didn't fall into the slowly filling bathtub. Instead, I saw him standing in front of the toilet, his head and shoulders dripping wet, as he cried, "Mommy, I fell in the potty!"

Yeah, I think we're a little beyond child proofing around here. It's time for some idiot proofing.

Mini Hiatus

2008-11-24T08:25:00.000-08:00

Without meaning to, it appears that I have taken a little vacation from blogging. I wish I felt like I was on vacation! Long story long: We had the carpeting replaced in our home office. Internet connection has been sporadic through the redo. The office is dismantled across my dining room right now and on Thursday I will be hosting my extended family's holiday meal. Needless to say it has been a little bit busy around here. I hope you've missed me! I will try to get a post up here by Thursday with a couple of little someones that I am feeling thankful for, in keeping with the theme for the week. I promise to be back to my intermittent, at best, posting after that. Hope you have a great week!

The cutest school pictures EVER!

2008-11-13T14:06:00.000-08:00

Okay, I may be slightly biased, but I think it's a keeper! Looking at this photo of Dylan in all of his school-boy handsomeness, it is hard to believe that a mere four years ago, this little human was known only by my bulging uterus. And thinking back to how apprehensive I was about the transition to school a few short months ago, it is amazing how much he loves it and we couldn't imagine our lives without being part of his school community.

His teacher, on the other hand, will not be too happy about my having posted this photo:

I told her it is a great class photo and she should be honored that it will be viewed on my blog. Except for Dylan's Chandler Bingish smile. Oh, and maybe the blond kid having to be held in place by the teacher with the "get this over with now" smile on her face. Well, maybe too the girl apparently bored nearly to tears by the whole experience. Now that you mention it, the other boy kinda looks ready to get up and run away, too. But to me it's the best possible picture. That's them; all of their three-year-oldness captured for that moment in time. My little boy's first class picture!

Not her daddy's girl

2008-11-10T20:48:00.000-08:00

Yeah, right!

Yes! We! Did!

2008-11-05T07:24:00.000-08:00

I am not a politician or a pundit, so who am I to say anything. I mean, I know right now the blogosphere is exploding with posts just like this little post on my little blog. And many people have more insight than I and a better way of saying what needs to be said. I also know there are an equal number of blog posts expressing disappointment at this outcome, and I really don't want to rub it in any one's face that my guy won. But I am a mom and I can't let this monumental accomplishment in our nation's history occur without celebrating what this election result means for my kids; without celebrating the fact that my children will grow up during the "Obama Years!"

Before today, I avoided thinking about what either outcome would mean, how any outcome would make me feel. There is no way that I would have believed, before today, that I would go to bed last night knowing, without any room for the slightest doubt, who our president would be. (You know, after having lived through the last two presidential elections.) And I dared not let myself have a glimmer of hope that I would know with such certainty that our president would be Barack Obama. Because I didn't want to be disappointed. I didn't want to have to think about how we would make it through the next four years as we have trudged through the last eight, let alone how I would face today if the outcome had been different.

But it wasn't a different outcome. It was this one and I don't have to go to that dark place of wondering. We did what needed to be done to get our country, the country that I chose to bring children into and that I will one day leave behind to their generation, back on track. And what I have to say about it as little Mom Blogger me (if I can stop getting choked up and teary every time I start replaying the speech, or reading articles or blog posts, or listening to talk radio, or even just thinking OMG this country just elected Barack Obama president) is that OMG this country just elected Barack Obama president!!

I am not going to get all historical perspectivy here because that's just not me. I know it is important for much grander reasons than the reasons it is important to me in my little life. I am a stay at home mom. I live and breathe every need and desire of my children 24/7. My sole purpose, at this stage of our family and my life, is caring for them and doing my best each day to help them become amazing people. It is difficult sometimes to feel like I matter outside of my own household, and dammit, I even feel selfish for wanting to matter outside of the lives of my kids. But this election result means that a mom, just doing what she has to do to take care of her family, can have a hope that the world will be just a little bit better for her kids. That she can put a voice to that hope, and take action and vote. And that vote counts for something. It matters to my family, and it matters so far beyond the four walls of my home, beyond the four people in my little family. And as far reaching as that hope is, it comes down to me getting through the day being the best mom that I can be to my kids today because I hope. And that matters.

Now that it is today and I am no longer afraid of being disappointed, of hoping beyond what seemed possible, I have no words to express the elation that I feel, so I will simply say that I am grateful. It is gratifying to be in a place to be able to celebrate the outcome of this monumental election. If you are celebrating with me, thank you.

In the midst of the joy I have been feeling since the result was announced last night, it saddens me to have to say this: Congratulations, all you narrow minded zealots! Way to go on passing that "Yes for Marriage" amendment. I'm sure we straight, happily married, one-man-one-woman couples will all be so much safer now, civil rights be damned!

Post Halloween Post

2008-11-01T13:06:00.000-07:00

It is way too hot here for November! I remember when growing up, beginning to feel the crisp air of our Arizona autumn settling in as Halloween approached. We had to trick-or-treat in sweaters. Can you say "Global Warming," anyone?

Holiday festivities started for Dylan and Sadie this week by going to Grandpa's to pick the pumpkins that he grew for them in his garden. The kids wore their costumes to show off for Grandpa. (Also because Sadie wasn't too keen on dressing up and we wanted to get lots of practice in before the big night.) It was 90+ degrees that day! Dylan was soaked in sweat by the time he got out of his jacket and helmet.

Getting ready to carve Jack-o-Lanterns; they were both very grossed out by the pumpkin slime!

On Thursday at school, the kids wore costumes, had a parade, and got to do some trick-or-treating from room to room. This is the only shot I got of the two of them together in their costumes. Dylan was a fire fighter last year and wanted to be one again this year. At first, I tried to talk him out of it but then we thought, "duh!" Why put out for a whole new costume when we already have one that he wants to wear? He doesn't know any better yet. Plus we had acquired a very cute dalmatian outfit for Sadie, so she got to be his sidekick firehouse dog.

Getting ready for the big night out.

Dylan looked like a "real" firefighter with smoky special effects smeared on his face.

We trick-or-treated up and down our street. Dylan was exhausted when we got back home, but Sadie, as her usual party-girl self was rarin' to keep going. Hot and tired won out, much to her dismay.

"I'm hot! Can I have some candy now, please?" (Look at his poor sweaty little head!)

Forget how hot it was. It's all about the candy!

Um, progress?

2008-10-29T15:16:00.000-07:00

Because I know you are dying to ask, this is how potty training is progressing in our household. As the polls stand now, staying in diapers and waging the changing battle multiple times a day while continuing to polute the earth is up about 15 gazillion points to nothing for continuing potty training.

Argh!

Um, help?

Another Political Post

2008-10-27T13:53:00.000-07:00

Scott is voting by mail-in ballot because he will be travelling on the 4th. We were discussing election issues and the ballot when Dylan chimed in, curious about what we meant by "vote."

DYLAN: What are you guys talking about?

SCOTT: We're talking about voting. It's when we choose who is going to be the next president. You know, like we talk about when we are watching the news and we see those people giving speeches.

Which we do daily in small doses between dinner prep and kid entertaining. (Countdown with Keith Olbermann, in case you were wondering.) Whenever they show clips of Obama giving a speech, Dylan says, "That's Bram-O-Bom-Bom. He's going to be the President." (Absolutely no coaching involved.)

So I add: In about a week, I am going to go vote, on election day. You can come with me and help me vote. Who should we vote for for President?

DYLAN: (thinking) Hmmmmmm.... Daddy!

SCOTT: laughs

ME: Okay then. Our job here is done.

It didn't bother me until I was thinking about it later that his dad was the obvious choice, and he'd answered without much hesitation. And then it bothered me that it hadn't bothered me until later. So I thought I would explore the issue a little further.

ME: So Dylan, if Daddy doesn't want to be the President, who would you vote for? Could you vote for me? Could Mommy be the President?

DYLAN: Heh heh. NOOOOO! You can't be the President!

ME: Humph. Why not?

DYLAN: (a little whiny, obviously distraught, and even beginning to sob a little bit) Because you caaaan't be the Presideeeeent.

We finally got out of him some semblance of an explanation along the lines of that I can't be President because then I would be gone and he would miss me and who would take care of him. So sweet. It has nothing to do with my gender. It's about me being a mom. Humph!

Job here? Clearly not done.

Now some moms might take this as their chance to prove a point to their children. To show them that a woman could be a Mom and the President. Hypothetically, a win for the McCain ticket could prove that point in Sarah Palin.

This mom? Well, I would rather prove to my children that there are much more important things at stake in this election. Hope and change transcend the gender issue this election. (Well, hopefully all elections. I mean, I hope they never vote for someone based on their gender. But especially this election.) Maybe that means they will have to wait a few more years to see the first woman president. But in the long run I think they will thank me for casting my vote for Hope this election, and changing the future of our country, their future, for the better this election.

(You got that I'm voting for Obama, right?)

There are not enough clothes in the world

2008-10-26T09:20:00.000-07:00

Let's just say my optimism on project PT 2.0 is waning quickly. Last night I washed 7 pairs of underwear and 6 pairs of pants. And that was with half of the day spent naked as the day she was born. We're already on our 4th pair of undies for the day and it's only 9:00am.

So much for the reducing our carbon footprint part of the plan. The amount of laundry is more than erasing the lack of impact from not disposing of diapers.

Getting to unroll the toilet paper is no longer fun and stickers have lost their charm. It's time to break out the heavy artillery (otherwise known as M&Ms).

We're donning pull-ups so we can head out to Target for reinforcements (more undies and treats). It's either that or duct tape her to the toilet. I think I'll try to avoid a visit from a CPS case worker and we'll venture out in pull-ups. Wish us luck!

Potty Training 2.0

2008-10-25T14:53:00.000-07:00

We potty trained Dylan about a year ago. He was two and a half. When it was over, Scott and I both commented that is was far less traumatic than we had expected and that we should start Sadie earlier than we had started Dylan. So here she is, almost a year younger than he was and we are going for it. I know she's little. I know she won't be quite as independent about the potty associated tasks as Dylan was because of the being 10 months younger. But according to the wisdom of mothers of my mom's generation, everyone potty trained their kids by the age of 18 months. And I think we all turned out okay.

So far, sitting on the potty is all fun and games, in stark contrast to waging the diaper changing battle at least 6 times a day. I'm sure the novelty will wear off soon, but not before she has gained some sense of control and prefers to use the toilet over wetting/soiling herself. And we will never have to change another diaper. Ever. Again. (Plus toilet paper is way cheaper than diapers. Just doing our part to cut spending in a tough economy. Not to mention the environmental impact.)

Ask me tomorrow if I am still this optimistic. She has actually only pee'd in the potty once all day. But it's nice outside and running around the backyard naked and peeing in the grass is hurting no one! She's already figuring out how to stop midstream and let us know that she is going! And the doggie pooper scooper has gained a new purpose. (Again, just doing our part. You're welcome.)

Any endeavor undertaken on a day that begins with orange frosted donuts from Dunkin' can't go that terribly wrong, can it?

Fear and Hate in Arizona

2008-10-21T21:25:00.000-07:00

I've said before that this isn't a political blog. I am not opposed to writing about politics. I just think that there are a lot of people out there who are a lot more informed than I am who do a much better job of it than I could. But I read a blog post today about Proposition 8 in California, and I considered it a personal call to action about our similar Prop 102 in Arizona. So I'm not going to write about politics. I am going to tell you, as a parent, how I feel about Prop 102 and you can like what I have to say, or not like it, but be a grown up and go vote on the issues based on what you really and truly value in your life, not out of fear and hate.

Unless you have been living under a rock, you know that these propositions have to do with same-sex marriage. In Arizona, we already defeated this proposed amendment to the state's constitution in 2006. But it is back this election cycle with a vengeance. It is now being called the "Yes for Marriage" proposition. This initiative, if passed, would add a provision to our constitution stating: "Only a union of one man and one woman shall be valid or recognized as a marriage in this state." A provision which our forebears didn't deem necessary to define. This is an amendment to the constitution, people! (BTW, we already have a law in Arizona, which has been upheld in court, prohibiting same-sex marriages. I'm not saying I support this law, but simply asking, "what's the point?" Is there really no better way to spend our resources than attempting, once again, to constitutionalize discrimination?)

So let's look at this "Yes for Marriage" amendment from the perspective a parent thinking about the values she wishes to instill in her young children as they grow up. Yes, let's pass an amendment protecting marriage in our state. Here is what I propose: That marriage be a choice between two people who are choosing to be together, who love each other and are mutually committed to support each other throughout their lives. That marriage not be entered into lightly, because it might be fun to jaunt off to Vegas and do it on a whim. Obviously, there are a lot of things I could say here about what marriage should mean. Simply defining marriage as between a man and a woman certainly isn't going to protect the values that should be inherent in a good marriage.

Think about what a constitutional amendment would take away from same-sex couples who are in a loving, committed relationship raising a family together. If passed, it would trigger lawsuits to take away all domestic partner benefits for state, county, and city employees, including public university faculty and staff. It will also negatively impact private businesses that provide these benefits to their employees. Whether or not you agree with same-sex unions, would you really propose to take away these benefits, not just from domestic partners, but also their children? Benefits that you are entitled to with your spouse to whom you are legally married, regardless of whether or not you have a loving, committed relationship with him or her?

When I think about what I want my children to learn to value, fear and hate aren't on that list. But that is all that I see when I look at those Yes for Marriage signs up all over town. Because they're not at all about Yes to Marriage. They're about Yes to Fear what is different than us, and Yes to Hate a lifestyle that is not of our choosing.

I don't know what lies ahead for my children. They may become doctors, or teachers, musicians or circus acts. They may choose to marry or be single. They may be straight or gay. Will any of these life paths, should my children take them, make me love them any less or be disappointed in them? Absolutely not. Do I want for them to look back on this moment in our state's history and think for one second that I was lured by the fear and hate, and the empty promise of protecting everything that this one woman who chose to marry one man holds dear in the sanctity of her marriage? Absolutely not! On November 4, I will cast a vote to protect everything that I value most in my life. I will vote no on Prop. 102.

PreSchool Politics - Updated

2008-10-17T19:16:00.000-07:00

I am new to the pre-school culture. Dylan started school in August. We couldn't be happier with our choice of where to send him. It is a co-op, which means the parents help out once a month or so in the classroom. The co-oping and volunteering that happen at the school foster a sense of community and interdependence among the teachers, students and parents and we feel really at home there.

But I think I may have crossed a line this week. I am going to be known as "that mom." The grumpy, uncooperative woman who when you turn the corner and see me coming you quickly look the other way and walk past pretending not to notice me because you don't want to have a conversation with me. My kid won't be invited to any birthday parties. I am the new mom at school and I complained about an issue that was bothering me. You see, as at home as we feel there, we are still kind of outsiders because, well, it's our first year and we weren't around last year when so-and-so happened or the year before when such-and-such happened. So who am I to bring up an issue that is bothering me? I mean, I chose the school, right? What could I possibly have to complain about?

I'm so glad you asked! Since the first week of school, I have noticed this little puppy around the campus. It happens to belong to an employee at the daycare attached to the pre-school. Her daughter attends the school. At first I thought that maybe she had brought the dog in for show and tell or something. No big deal if it's there for a day or an occasional visit. But it's there everyday. I guess the mom takes care of it while she's working, but occasionally during the school day, the little girl wants to play with her puppy and has it out on the playground. She's mean to the other kids about it when they get close because they are curious and want to play with the puppy too. Understandable, they're learning how to share in pre-school. It isn't easy.

My last straw was on Thursday when I dropped Dylan off. She had the dog out in the school yard. (Unsupervised, I might add... Mom was no where in sight.) Dylan walked past her to get to the play area and she yelled at him and jerked the dog around away from him. Whatever. She's four and doesn't want the other kids messing with her dog. But why is she allowed to have it there?

I have a few concerns about having the dog at school. a) There's the hygiene issue. Where is the dog eliminating? And who's making sure the kids stay out of it? b) While I love the sense of caring and community fostered at this school, I would like to know that the people working there are focused on caring for my child and not a puppy. And c) can my son bring his pet to school? It's a fairness thing, as childish as that may sound. Anyway, I have a hard time believing that I am the first parent to notice or bring it up.

Whether or not my concerns are valid doesn't really matter at this point. I said something and I can't unsay it and now I will just be known as "that mom" because I don't think it's okay for a little girl who misses her puppy to be able to play with him at school, or for a mom who is having a hard time housebreaking the dog at home to bring it to work with her. I also worry WAY TOO MUCH about what others think of me and I need to get over it. Right now I kind of feel like I made a bigger deal out of a little puppy at school than I should have. It's okay. I can deal with being shunned in the mornings by the other moms on the playground or skipping the parent socials.

But now Dylan is "that mom's kid" and I will NOT HANDLE IT WELL IF HE DOESN'T GET INVITED TO ANY BIRTHDAY PARTIES!

Update 10/21 I dropped Dylan off at school this morning and the family in question was out on the playground... no puppy in sight! And I wasn't feeling all shunned and stuff. Now I won't sit here all day wondering if my son had to side step doggy doo-doo at recess or defend himself against puppy-induced verbal battery. But don't think I'm not gonna still be waiting for the birthday invites!

Thirsty Thursday

2008-10-16T08:34:00.001-07:00

Remember when that used to mean happy hour after work on Thursday to get the weekend started a day early, even when you still had to get up and go to work on Friday?

Welcome to my new happy hour! Beginning at 6:00a.m. daily. Care to join me?

Do you ever get that pang, you know for the life you once had, before you had kids? Don't get me wrong. I love my kids and wouldn't trade the life I have now for anything in the world. But once in a while, don't you just miss something that was once a part of your life, but is no longer because you have kids to raise now? Like going to happy hour at least once a week? What is your Thirsty Thursday?

Holy Freaking 13.1!

2008-10-10T08:02:00.000-07:00

Miles, that is.

Back at the beginning of August, I wrote this. Not too much has changed since then, except that I have managed to do a little more running than walking when I do make it out the door. And it's cooling down quite a bit here so the heat is no longer an excuse to forgo my run.

I went to a kick-off event last night and signed up for this. $75 later, I have committed myself to run 13.1 miles through Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Tempe with about 30,000 other people on January 18.

Help!

(The good news is, I won a drawing for $100 to P.F. Chang's! If you think about it, it's like I got paid $25 to enter the race! So there's that, and the fact that I might actually be forced to get in shape now!)

Got List?

2008-10-09T14:27:00.001-07:00

I do... at MomDot.com! Go and see for yourself.

from the hostesses:

*MomDot is a mom blog listing site that is run by mom bloggers, Trisha, Alicia, and Bridgette. They run contests weekly, reviews on awesome (and not so awesome) products for family and kids, and talk about their lives. But more importantly, they feature bloggers and mom boutiques to give them an avenue to get thier name out there, also assisting in google links! You can head out and list your blog for free and talk to them about doing an interview about you. Head on over and see what MomDot is about!*

It's not just one of those urban myths?

2008-10-08T20:20:00.000-07:00

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't think people really get sick, or that the evening news is full of made up (okay maybe some) stories that actually don't happen to people in real life. But really, who gets West Nile Virus?

We seem to be plagued by mosquitoes right now in the greater Phoenix Metro area. I have had the same conversation with literally EVERYONE I have talked to in recent weeks:

*What's up with all the mosquitoes?*

*They are really biting right now!*

*I get eaten alive every time I walk outside!*

*Look at the kids, they are covered in bites.*

*Yeah, I know. Do you use any kind of insect repellent on your kids?*

*Not really, kind of worried about the deet issues.*

*I know what you mean. Well, they don't seem to itch too much, and they fade by the next day. I guess it's not that big of a deal!*

Well, let me take back that "it's not that big of a deal!" comment. A friend of mine's child was just diagnosed with West Nile Virus. Let me say that again: A friend of mine's child was just diagnosed with West Nile Virus!

What?!! We live in the city, not, like, the Amazon or something! And less than a mile away from me, someone is sick right now with West Nile Virus!

Thankfully, the child is okay. He was mildly ill with fever and vomiting off and on for a couple of weeks, so the Dr. finally did some blood work to find out what was wrong. He has been through the worst of it and is fine. But seriously, who gets West Nile Virus?

Apparently, we urban jungle dwellers, who only dream of travelling to exotic locales, are not immune to tropical diseases. Excuse me while I go stock up on deet containing products!

Today

2008-10-05T19:03:00.000-07:00

Last Wednesday, I flipped the calendar page to October. As I glanced at the month ahead, I noted two things about today, October 5.

Today is my mother-in-law's birthday. We wish you all the best today, Grandma Bertie and sure wish we could be near to give you a birthday hug and kiss!

Today, October 5th, is marked with a star on my calendar. Next to the star, the words, "maybe baby?" I had starred today and written those words nearly nine months ago after the plus sign on the home pregnancy test turned blue. I starred today and wrote those words after entering the date of my last cycle into an online due date calculator. I later crossed out the "?" that I had originally written when an ultrasound at 7 weeks confirmed the pregnancy and this original due date.

But at nine weeks, fate decided that we were not to be parents again to a new baby, at least not this one. Dylan would not be its big brother, and Sadie wouldn't get the chance to be its big sister. It just wasn't meant to be, not this baby.

It's difficult to know how to feel about the loss of a baby you've only known of for a few weeks. It's not like we were attached to it already. We were just getting used to the idea that we would have another infant in the house. Where would we sleep all three kids in two bedrooms? We had already seen Dylan become a great big brother to Sadie. How would he be if it were a boy this time? What kind of big sister would Sadie be? How am I going to deal with being the mom of a pre-schooler, a toddler, and an infant? Will we find out the sex of the baby before it's born? All of the anxiety, the wondering, and the beginning to plan that comes with that little blue plus sign. And I loved every second of those few short weeks that I knew there would be another baby our family. Another son or daughter, another sibling for Dylan and Sadie.

But it wasn't meant to be. And even though it was only a few short weeks, it was still a loss. A loss that I had almost forgotten about until I flipped that page. Today, that baby would be here. I would be holding him or her, inhaling the new baby sweetness, and I would feel certain of everything that I had wondered about during those few short weeks. Of everything that I am still wondering about today, but will probably never know.

Ah, to be a kid again!

2008-10-02T14:00:00.000-07:00

*sigh*

Dylan's class had a field trip today to the Children's Museum of Phoenix. It is quite possibly the coolest place I have ever been in my entire life. Their slogan is "...a fun, hands-on, educational museum that engages the minds, muscles and imaginations of children and the grown-ups who care about them."

That is the understatement of the year!

It is truly a place that is absolutely all about and for kids. And it is equally pleasing for the accompanying adults. There was not one thing in the entire building that Dylan couldn't touch or do and I didn't have to "no" him once the entire day. The other really cool thing about the museum is that there was not one thing for the kids to do that was electronic or computerized. No tv's or computer monitors either! Everything was hands-on and people-powered. So this post is my ode to Children's Museum of Phoenix in photos.

The museum is housed in an old school building in downtown Phoenix. They have used the classrooms to create different hands-on (have I mentioned that EVERYTHING is hands-on?) exhibit areas. When you first walk in, there is a an atrium-like area that is open all the way up to the third floor, which overlooks the space. This photo is from the third floor looking down. Next to the tunnels and tents, there is an open area with all kinds of scooters for the kids (and adults!) to ride around on.

Dylan and Grandpa (who came with us too!) riding scooters (which are a lot harder than they look):

Painting on acidic paper in the Science Room with baking soda solution which turned the yellow paper red!

Painting a house (with his friend Joseph) in the Art Room:

There were many activities in these two rooms set out for the kids to do, and they are constantly changing.

Shopping and measuring rice in the grocery store:

Here are a couple of features that were more pleasing for the adults. In the kitchen area (no pics of Dylan playing there) they had some wall sculptures made of silverware. Here's a frog. There were also a ton of light fixtures made of glassware, utensils and various kitchen objects. The coolest thing was a structure across the entire length of the ceiling made of utensils welded together. These photos don't do justice:

Scooping ice cream at the sidewalk cafe:

Sculpting at the under-lit sand table (with his friend Owen):

These photos are all of the "Pit Stop"area... a xylophone made of wrenches, playing wall-mounted drums made out of buckets, racing slot cars, an old motorcycle, and reading books in the back of a pick-up truck (with his teacher). That was another feature that I really loved about the museum. Each exhibit area had a designated comfy, quiet spot with books and puzzles relating to the theme of the room.

Plus, an entire reading loft area full of books and cozy reading spaces, overlooking the first floor entrance play area:

And that's not even everything that we did. If you look at their website under exhibits, you can find the already existing activities as well as read about several MORE (could there possibly be?) slated to open next year. Needless to say I was blown away by our first visit, and we will be returning soon and often! If you haven't been yet, put this place on your list of things to do pronto!

I will leave you with some images of the "shoe wall" outside the 3 and under play area. There are no words:

Please Do Not Disturb

2008-09-26T13:01:00.000-07:00

In an attempt to improve the curb appeal of my home, I recently removed a torn, weathered piece of paper that had been taped over my doorbell. The paper once read, "Baby Sleeping. Please do not ring bell!" The note had been placed there over 3 years ago by me, a new mother attempting anything and everything to get my newborn to sleep longer than 20 minutes at a time. I was desperate to get rid of the source of every evil that might wake him, and later my daughter, before they'd slept enough. At the time of its removal the print as well as the original color of the note were indecipherable, but it had served its purpose of deterring would be solicitors from disturbing the once elusive naps of my *sigh* no-longer babies.

Here are a few things that I have noticed since removing this subtle plea to leave my home's occupants undisturbed:

1. I am way better at ignoring a knock at the door than the doorbell.

2. The dog barks louder at the doorbell than a knock at the door.

3. My kids nap through the doorbell and the dog barking.

4. People go door to door selling some pretty weird crap.

5. I have broken no less than 7 slats in the blind covering the front window as I try to peer through without being seen while trying figure out who is ringing and if it is worth answering.

So this is what I would like to post by my front door to deter unwelcome doorbell ringing. I think it gets the point across better than a simple "No Soliciting" plaque.

Please do not disturb the occupants of this home if one of the following circumstances applies to you:

If you are campaigning for a political candidate or cause, I already know how I am voting in the upcoming election. Your interruption of the privacy of my home is not going to change my mind. Unless of course, I had been planning to vote for your guy, now I might not since I don't know if I can support a candidate who has rung my doorbell EIGHT TIMES to get me to listen to him. While you're at it, why don't you let your campaign headquarters know that those pre-recorded phone messages don't work either. In fact, the more I feel annoyed by your candidate's antics to get me to vote for him, the less likely that I will.

If you are here to sell me something I am not interested. Again, your interruption of the privacy of my home is not going to change my mind because I either a) already have it; b) don't need it; c) can't afford it; or d) know how to obtain it without inviting a stranger into my house. Thanks anyway.

If you are the process server trying to issue me a citation for that photo radar incident, I swear that wasn't me driving.

Basically, if you don't know me or don't have pre-arranged business with me, don't bother because I'm not gonna answer. Now please kindly go away.

P.S. If you are my neighbor coming to tell me that my obnoxious sign probably violates some friendly neighborhood code of ethics and would I please remove it, I would be more than happy to discuss it with you, just as soon as you are willing to talk about the hideous pink gravel and garden gnomes that presently grace your yard!

What is it with men and their primal urge to urinate outdoors?!!

2008-09-23T07:22:00.000-07:00

I know that I will never understand because I am a girl and so I don't have the ease of just going when and where nature calls me. Standing up outside in the yard to pee is not the most comfortable thing I can imagine doing, so it doesn't appeal to me, and I don't, and won't ever, get it.

My husband is a yard pee'r. He used to be covert about it. But I caught him once, and now he has no discretion. (Well, I mean, he keeps it in the family but still, not exactly what I want to see my husband doing.) I know I am not the only one because I've had this conversation with some other moms, each with little sons all at various stages of potty training and who want to do just about everything exactly the way they see their dads doing it, including "watering" the grass. And hey, if it gets anyone that much closer to being out of diapers, then who am I to judge?

So yes, our little man pees in the yard. I guess I am okay with it because the dog pees there too, right? And if it makes the difference of not having an accident because he doesn't want to stop what he's doing long enough to go in and use the bathroom like a proper person, then who am I to say no?

The problem is that when Dylan was given the green light to pee in the yard, should the need arise, a pretty important detail was overlooked. A three year old does not have the discretion to determine which outdoor spots are appropriate for peeing in (meaning ONLY OUR OWN BACKYARD WHEN NO ONE BUT FAMILY IS THERE), should the need arise.

I was out and about with the kids yesterday and we happened to stop and sit on a bench near a sidewalk cafe with a bed of plants separating the restaurant from where we sat. Dylan mentioned a need to go potty so I said we'd go inside to find one. I started gathering our stuff and Sadie and vaguely heard him say something about not needing a bathroom. So as I looked up with my arms full of stuff and Sadie, ready to head inside in search of said bathroom, Dylan was literally a fraction of a millimeter away from pulling his pants down, whipping it out, and peeing on the lovely plants in front of God and everyone eating at the nice little cafe.

ME: NO! NO! NO! NO! COME HERE NOW I NEED TO TALK TO YOU NOOOW! (I know, the yelling. I am losing Mom of the Year points here but the urgency of the situation required it.)

DYLAN: (not budging) BUT MOMMY I HAVE TO PEE RIGHT NOW.

ME: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! DO NOT PULL DOWN YOUR PANTS AND COME OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!! (I know, again with the yelling.)

At that point, I didn't care if he had to go so bad that he wet his pants because that would've been preferable to the alternative at hand. I always have spare clothes for him in the car anyway. Can I have some of my points back for that?

D: But I really have to pee.

ME: I know, that is why we are going inside here to use the restroom.

D: But I don't need the restroom. I can just pee right here on these plants. My pee can water the plants.

ME: We let you pee outside when we are home, in the privacy of our own backyard. You cannot pee on plants in public places. And those people eating right there DO NOT WANT TO WATCH YOU PEE!

Then of course, all of the "but whys" and the disappointed agreement to go and use a proper restroom.

Turns out, he stood in front of that toilet for nearly ten minutes. But he didn't really have to go. It was never about the peeing, it was about the chance to pee in public, or nature, or whatever.

Well, he got his chance a couple of hours later. We were outside in the front yard and my neighbor walked out of his house, looking at me kinda funny. I turned around to see what he had noticed and there's my grass peein' little boy having a party. ("But Mommy, you said it's okay if we're at home!" The boy has a point. Can't argue with that!)

A couple of disturbing thoughts on this topic just occurred to me: 1)Are these men, and consequently their sons wishing to emulate them, that feel the need to urinate outside actually marking their territory, you know, like the dogs that pee out there too? And 2)OMG what if he tries to pee on the playground at school?

What?!! I'm supposed to just be grateful that at least he's not using the toilet seat as a hat?

And Then There Were Two

2008-09-21T20:14:00.000-07:00

In my offline life, I have a couple of friends who will soon find themselves bringing home new little ones to add to their families. And online I have some friends (who wouldn't know me passing on the street, but I read you everyday, Kristen and Rebecca and I heart you) who are due in a couple of weeks with a girl apiece. So I found out about this online shower and decided to crash it. You can too! (Really, go to the link below, especially if you are in the throes of baby newness yourself, or you just need some perspective in your life about What Really Matters. You can link to some fantastic posts about, well, babiness. But take a box of Kleenex!)

My friends, you make me laugh, you make me cry, you make me think in ways that challenge me to be a better person, a better mom, everyday. So as you prepare to welcome your sweet new babies to the world, I wish you showered with all the happiness imaginable, and I am adding my own little gem to your cache.

My biggest fear, in preparing for baby number two (besides OMG WTF AM I GOING TO DO WITH TWO KIDS?!!) was how much it would rock the world of the child we already had. He was the love of our life, the center of our universe. What would it do to his developing sense of self to suddenly be sharing the spotlight with this new, unknown little creature? Had we prepared him enough? How would he react? Would he resent her? How would he treat her? How would we as parents deal with balancing the needs of both?

I delivered Sadie by scheduled c-section. As I prepared for the day she would be born, I remember thinking about how much I wanted to not be pregnant anymore. I remember thinking about how much I wanted to know this little being that had been growing inside of me. But mostly, I wanted her brother to know her. I couldn't wait for the moment of their meeting.

Much of what I remember about that day is blurred by drug-induced fuzziness. But when I think back to the day that Sadie came to be with us, I have one brilliant shard of memory that blazes through the cloudy layer of half-consciousness. It is the moment that Scott brought Dylan to the hospital to see me, to meet his sister. And in that moment, when he saw the baby and his face lit with instantaneous recognition, and he expressed in his not quite yet two-year-old way "that baby Sadie, that my Sadie," I knew. I knew that she was his. I knew as he leaned over and softly kissed her sweet head that he loved her. I knew as he grasped her tiny hand in his and she clung tightly to his finger that she would always need him. In that moment I caught a shining glimpse of Our Family, and whether or not we had done enough, it was enough. And as I sank back into to the medicated haze, I smiled, suspecting that I just might be okay with two.

his Sadie

he loves her

Happy Blogiversary!

2008-09-17T08:22:00.000-07:00

I just realized that my first post on this blog was exactly one year ago today. Gee, you'd think I'd have more posts up by now or something. Anyway, here's a look back at that post, so you can see how much we've all grown in one year! (The link is actually to the second post I did. My first post was just a little blurb on the 17th of Sept. 2007 saying, hi, we're here!)

Anyway, Happy Birthday to my blog, and thanks to everyone who's been reading me this year!

P.S. I am the WORST SIL ever! Happy Birthday, Diane!

Whad'ya know? Eating carrots really is good for your eyes!

2008-09-16T17:37:00.000-07:00

During some serious sand play the other day, Dylan came to me rubbing his eyes (with sand-covered hands, of course) complaining that there was something scratchy in his eye. (Gee, I wonder what it was.) So I told him to stop rubbing, because he would only get more sand lodged in there. Then I suggested that he try to cry, so that his tears could wash the grains of sand out of his eye, or I could pour some water in his eye if he wanted me to.

DYLAN: No, no, no, no, nooooo!! Do not get water in my eye.

ME: Then you should try to cry so your tears will wash the sand out.

D: But Mommy, I am not sad.

ME: Can you think of something that would make you sad enough to cry?

D: WAAAAAAAAH! (total drama queen fake cry) I miss Daddy! (Scott happened to be out of town at the time.) WAAAAAAAHH! (still fake)

ME: How's your eye.

D: Still sand

ME: Now do you want me to pour some water in it?

D: No, no, no, no, no!! I will go play some more and maybe it will just get out.

A few minutes later, he walked back over to me.

D: Hey, Mom, did you know eating carrots is good for your eyes? Can I have some carrots?

(Like I'm gonna say no to my kid asking me if he can snack on some carrots!)

After munching on a few carrots and contemplating, he proudly announced: Hey, my eye is all better now! Carrots really do fix your eyes!

The conspiracy rages on

2008-09-15T20:41:00.000-07:00

If you haven't yet read about the beings in the universe conspiring against me, go here first. Otherwise, read on... this is an update which illustrates just how widespread the conspiracy is becoming.

To be fair, I have to admit that the last couple of times we have gone to Tempe Marketplace, the splash pad has been fully operational and my kids have actually played in the fountains. Of course, I have no photographic proof because you know how it goes about actually taking pictures.

The weather here has been decent for the first couple weeks of September (meaning that the highs are hovering just around or slightly below 100) so it is actually tolerable to think about enjoying outdoor activities. So last Friday morning we headed for the Phoenix Zoo. I figured we could see a few animals and by the time the kids got too hot, we would head for the splash play area. I packed a bag with swimsuits and everything, totally prepared. So a few elephants, giraffes, and squirrel monkeys later, we were all hot and tired and the kids were ready for some water fun. Do I need to tell you what happened when we made it to the splash area? Yep! No water fun last Friday!

We recently discovered the Splash Playground at Tempe Beach Park. We had plans to meet a friend for a playdate there this morning. I am so sorry to all the other moms we saw, kids, towels, and picnic lunches in tow. I know that it is quite a hike with all that stuff from the parking lot to the actual playground only to find it closed for the morning. I, apparently, was the bad luck that arrived right as the park was to open at 10:00 that caused the malfunction that needed to be repaired for at least two hours before any of the play equipment would be splashable.

Not to be thwarted, our quest for water play continues. The zoo has opened a new play space with caverns and waterfalls which we will be checking out later this week. I guess I should make sure it is really open before we go and before I once again cannot deliver on a promise of splashability. And if you were planning to check it out, maybe don't go this Friday morning because my water play curse may wreak havoc on your kids' fun!

And for some not so nakedness...

2008-09-13T15:53:00.000-07:00

Sadie gets dressed all by herself... in her upside-down skirt!

And speaking of nakedness...

2008-09-12T20:03:00.000-07:00

Three year old boy nearly arrested for indecent exposure in family restaurant!

This is almost a non-post, but when it happened we laughed so hard our cocktails came spewing out of our noses.

Anyway, to make a long and mostly boring story short, I will get right to it. We're sitting in a (not) fine dining establishment eating dinner and Dylan's being a little wild man and trying to climb over Scott to escape from the booth. Scott grabs him by the waistband of his shorts and accidentally depants him. For whatever reason (part of the long boring version that really has no relevance) he's going commando. So he ends up flashing our entire side of the restaurant his full frontal. I look over and Dylan's back is to me because he's facing everyone else and all I can see is skinny little boy butt. (Hence, the wine spewing from my nose.) Good thing we've got him feeling all confident about his parts and stuff, so at least he's not embarrassed. Very anticlimatically, amidst the wine and beer spraying everywhere, we manage to get him decent before any arrests could be made.

Okay, so it's really not that funny rereading it. Guess you had to be there!

Pieces and Parts

2008-09-08T08:36:00.000-07:00

As Scott and I watch our kids playing together in the bathtub, we find ourselves maneuvering through conversations that we never imagined ourselves having. Like ever. Or at least until they came to us and asked about the birds and the bees. Like when they're twenty or something, right? Conversations about parts and differences and functions.

I think that because we have one of each gender, and they bathe together and see each other naked on a regular basis, we are probably dealing with the parts issue more than parents of two of the same, or with just one child. I didn't think I would have to talk about S-E-X so early on. (Not that we are really discussing it, but, you know, laying the foundation for how we as a family will discuss it when it becomes appropriate. Like when they're twenty.) Dylan notices that Sadie is missing something that he has. And since Sadie doesn't have one, she is very curious and likes to grab it when she has a chance, like she would grab at my nose, or my tongue if I stuck it out at her. The curiosity is as natural and innocent as wondering why her eyes are blue or why his feet are bigger.

And since Sadie is learning about 27,000 new words a day, she wants everything labeled for her, so she can repeat and learn and say it on her own next time. So while Dylan is flaunting his parts and wondering where Sadie's are, Sadie looks down to not find them there, then points and wants to know what her pieces are called. Well, I have to answer her, right? Like I would if she pointed to her knee or her ear. Because it is natural curiosity which I don't want to thwart. So I should really teach her (them) the correct terminology. But I can't. I don't know why. I don't consider myself to be prude or anything. But I have a really hard time saying that girl part word.

The first time Dylan discovered his masculinity during a diaper change, I had no problem announcing to him that yes, that's his penis. He's never called it a pee-pee or a wee-wee or anything else. It's always been penis. I can say it without without skipping a beat. See? Penis. Penis. Penis. As a result, Dylan is quite confident discussing his penis no matter who's around or where we are. At an extended family gathering, "What is up with my penis? I need to itch it." In a crowded public restroom as he waits in the stall with me, "Mommy, why don't you have a penis?" Or in a public restroom with Scott, "Daddy, your penis is big and mine is just little." We take these conversations in stride, even if we are a little embarrassed by them because it is important for him to not feel ashamed of any of his parts. In time we know that the social filter will develop and he won't just yell, "Penis!" inappropriately across the playground in sixth grade. (Well, maybe he will, but not because he doesn't know any better by then!)

So why, oh why, do I seem to be falling into such a double standard with my daughter? Because believe you me, I want her to have just as much confidence and unashamedness as her brother, if not more so. Because girls just seem to end up with way more issues about that stuff. And so that it isn't taboo to talk about when it becomes really important for her to trust me to talk about it. And so that I don't get all giggly and goofy when I have to say, you know, the word. Because how I talk to her now is the basis for how we will have all future conversations about this most important subject. And the closest I can come is VahJayJay. Which will get me by for maybe one more week because she can't really pronounce it yet but you know she's making so much progress with those 27,000 new words a day I'll bet she'll have it by then. In a week she will be asking me, "Mommy why does Dylan have a penis, but I just have a vahjayjay? Come on. What is it really called?"

I can't fool them now, and I definitely don't want them to feel fooled when it really matters. Because misinformation, or incomplete information will lead them to make uninformed choices, when it really matters. So I better just get over it. Here goes. Vagina. There, I said it. All pieces and parts officially named, head to toe, front to back, boy and girl. I am duly equipping my children with the information they will need, when it really matters. Now someone please just tell me that "when it really matters" isn't until they're at least twenty?!!

This is not a political blog.

2008-09-02T19:59:00.000-07:00

But I have opinions about candidates and issues. And I am a mom. I care about what kind of future I am choosing for my children when I vote. So if you are part of a presidential ticket hoping I cast my ballot your way, here are three talking points you can throw at me until you are blue in the face (ha! get it? blue!) but that still won't earn you my vote. Or my respect.

1. "I'll bet she is the only VP nominee with the exception of maybe Teddy Roosevelt who can field dress a moose!" (Thank you Fred Thompson for that gem.) Are you kidding me?!! Because you're telling me that as if having the ability to field dress a moose actually does qualify her to be VP! But if that is the only thing you can come up with to say about her, well then bring it on!

2. I know that McCain was a POW. I know he suffered terrors beyond what ordinary humans can imagine. I know his captivity and sacrifice were horrific and heroic. I don't discredit any of that by saying this: Don't have someone give a speech on McCain's behalf detailing Every. Single. Moment. Of his torture. I already know he suffered a lot, beyond anything I could possibly comprehend. Orating upon exactly what means of coercion caused which of McCain's injuries does not make him a better presidential choice. It kind of makes him seem a little needy and desperate for votes. Like he deserves my vote for the singular fact that he was a POW.

3. Do not expect to gain my support by making an issue of the fact that your sons and daughters, and people associated with you and your family's sons and daughters are now currently serving, have in the past, or are scheduled to be deployed to Iraq. Don't get me wrong. I am in no way, shape or form diminishing the service of anyone who chooses to defend our nation as a member of the armed forces. I am grateful for every son, daughter, mother, father, wife, and husband that is over there. But you candidates, and those who speak on your behalf, are diminishing your loved ones' service by rattling it off in campaign speeches as a vote-earning tactic.

Did anyone know, from listening to Beau Biden's introduction of his father, and then to Joe Biden's speech that Beau would be deploying to Iraq in October? Or did you have to google it afterwards, like me? I am betting on the googling, because they didn't play on your emotions by parading it in front of you as a ploy for votes. Beau's service to his country, admirable as it is, remained a private family matter and not a campaign tactic.

Speaking of private family matters, while I abhor the attention being paid to the rumors surrounding the pregnancy of Sarah Palin's daughter, private? My ass! When you are the poster child for the Conservative platform of Abstinence Only, then you make that private family matter very, very public. Because you are touting a program, a family value, a way of life, to an entire nation that you can't even manage to maintain in your own family. I'm sorry. That deserves public attention. Not to discredit the choice of running mates, but certainly to punctuate the need for comprehensive sex education. An issue which won't be progressed if McCain and Palin are elected.

Maybe when the GOP candidates begin to focus on actual issues, rather than preying on my emotions, they might turn this true blue mom's head. But really they just continue to leave me feeling pretty disgusted with everything they have to say.

The Bug Whisperer

2008-08-30T06:46:00.001-07:00

On Friendship and Persistence

Dylan and Sadie were digging around in the dirt the other day, when Dylan came across some busy little ants. He had this to say about them:

DYLAN: Mom ants are mean.

ME: Why do you say that?

D: Because they sting you and it hurts.

ME: (Trying to be the definitive, cool, scientific fact Mom) Yes, I guess ants will do that. But it's only because they are so small and they think you are a giant. They think they a have to protect themselves so you won't hurt them.

D: But I'm not a giant. Mommy tell the ants that I'm not a giant!

ME: Well, I don't think they can really hear me say that. Ants don't have ears, you know. If you don't want to get stung, why don't you just dig in a different spot?

D: (slightly disappointed) Ooooh.

This is what I heard a few minutes later:

(a few octaves higher than normal) Hey little dudes. Heeeyyy, little dudes. Hey. I am NOT a giant. I want to be your friend. Do you want to be my friend? See I am not a mean giant. I am a nice little boy. Do you want to play with me?

(a few moments later) Ooooowww! Mommy, those ants stinged me. They are mean! Hey, ants! I don't like it when you do that!

(more than slightly disappointed) I guess they think I am a giant. Or maybe they don't have ears.

Hey look! A little beetle. Beetles won't sting you! Do beetles have ears?

Hey, little dude. I am not a giant. Do you want to be my friend?

Someone please peel me off the floor

2008-08-26T06:16:00.000-07:00

because I am so blown away that I am lying here flattened. And I mean that in a very good way. The best possible way to be knocked to the ground.

Did you see Michelle Obama's speech last night? Did you really watch it? Did you listen to it? Did you feel it?

I knew it would be good, because I have been impressed by her before. She's genuine, well spoken, passionate, and inspiring when she speaks. But last night was so ridiculously beyond what any tiny little fragment of my brain could have mustered up in its imagination good that I have lost any words to describe its awesomeness. And every time I try to write about how amazing I think the speech was or how incredible she is, I start to cry again. So I can't see what I'm writing through the blur of my tears, besides the fact that I am lying here on the floor trying to get up and can barely manage to reach the keyboard with the one hand that I have gotten unstuck, let alone see the screen. Thank goodness I was holding the TV remote when I fell because it ended up right next to me and I was able to rewind and watch a few times (no less than 4, maybe more).

So what do I really want to say about the amazing awesomeness of Michelle Obama and her speech last night? Because if you saw it, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you didn't, get thee to YouTube immediately and do whatever you have to to catch even a shard of what she said. Because you will be inspired beyond your wildest dreams.

What I want to say is that I have always been for Obama, even in the early days of the primary. Forget a president that I feel like I can hang out and have a beer with. That is what got us stuck with the guy that's in the oval office right now. But this family? I want my kids to grow up living next door to these people! I want them to come over on Sundays for a backyard barbecue and a swim in the pool. These are people that practice the values every day that I want my life to be about. So last night only made my desire for an Obama presidency stronger.

What I want to say is that listening to Michelle last night talk with so much passion and conviction about her and her husband's dreams for our country (not for themselves, no selfish personal aspirations to get to the White House) made me want so much more for my own life, for my family. I want to be a better wife, a better mother, a better sister, daughter, friend. I want to deserve the love and admiration that my husband and kids have for me. I want to volunteer for a cause. I want to aspire to greatness in my everyday life with the people that I have around me. I want to be a good person. I just want to be better. If we all wanted that? Now there's change we can believe in.

That kind of ass-kicking I can handle for 8 years. Even if it means that I am occasionally reduced to flatness on the floor. Because I know when I'm finally able to get up, I will be better. So much better.

Edit: Hey, I just got this email from the Obama campaign! (Nicely said, Barack.) Anyway, you can watch her speech here if you missed it last night:

Becky --I am so lucky to be married to the woman who delivered that speech last night. Michelle was electrifying, inspiring, and absolutely magnificent. I get a lot of credit for the speech I gave at the 2004 convention -- but I think she may have me beat. You have to see it to believe it. You really don't want to miss this. And I'm not just saying that because she's my wife -- I truly believe it was the best speech of the campaign so far.
--Barack

Conspiracy Theory

2008-08-24T19:13:00.000-07:00

I know what you're thinking. And you would be right. Not my kids. Don't even know who they are. I found this photo when I googled "Tempe Marketplace Splash Pad." Because I don't have any pictures of my own kids playing there. Not for a lack of trying. If mom-of-the-year was awarded on effort alone, I would hands down win in the category of taking my kids to the splash pad to play in the water. But we go, and we go, and we go, clad in swimsuits, slathered in sunblock, bag full of towels and dry clothes, fully prepared to get soaked. And my kids have yet to actually get wet in these fountains. (Okay, that isn't entirely true. They did play there once, but that wasn't why we had gone there in the first place and I wasn't prepared with towels and extra clothes. So I was a little grouchy about it and didn't let them experience the splashiness in its entirety. And another time that we had gone prepared, we waited around for so long to actually get to play that they were over it before they got wet.) If I didn't know better I would say that someone is conspiring against me.

A little background, in case you have never been to the Marketplace and have no idea what I am talking about. Tempe Marketplace opened last fall and is this hip, urban shopping, dining, entertainment destination. There is a fabulous outdoor courtyard area between shops and restaurants and a movie theater that is great just to browse and walk around in. There are a million things to keep curious toddlers entertained for hours, even without the splash pad. Bonus for me, there are misters everywhere and it is cool and shady throughout the courtyard, so it always feels like it is at least 20 degrees cooler than the actual outside temperature. Plus the splash pad is surrounded by umbrellaed tables and shaded couches. So the first time we meandered through there last October or so I remember thinking that it would be a great place to bring the kids all summer when we get bored and stir crazy in the house because it's too blazing hot to do anything outdoors.

Enter the heat and the many trips to the Marketplace Splash Pad. Since June, I figure we have headed over there with the sole purpose of splashing and cooling off 8-10 random different times. And not one of those times did that happen. You are going to think that I am exaggerating, because, how is it possible? (Unless, of course, someone is plotting against me.) But I kid you not: Every single time that we have gone to play at the splash pad, we have found it strewn with tools and repair guy. No water. No splashing. No playing. No cooling off. Just fixing. And watching repair guy fix. (Or not fix, really. Because the place isn't that old. How much fixing can a less than 1 year old fountain need? And 8-10 random times? Obviously it never got fixed in the first place. Because what are the odds that all summer long I happened to venture over there on the only days that it ever needed repair? Unless, of course, someone is plotting against me.)

So for next time, could the people over at Tempe Marketplace please include me in the distribution list for the memo containing the repair schedule? So I don't get my kids all hyped up only to have their hopes dashed against the soft, spongy, dry, splash pad surface? Because even though it is a hip, urban, misty, shady, cooler than outside surface to be dashed upon, it's still not fun to watch repair guy every time. Or to try to explain why, once again, there will be no water fun today, to a 1 and 3 year old.

And if you're planning to hook up for a play date with us any time soon, you might want to double check I got that memo before you mention splash pad at Marketplace. Because if we do plan to head over there on any random day, I will apparently, through no effort of my own, jinx the playing potential.

Lastly, to the beings that conspire against me: Even though you have thwarted our every attempt for fun at the splash pad, you still can't take away the points I've earned trying!

Denver, Baby!

2008-08-22T07:15:00.000-07:00

This amazing woman (my sister!) has been elected to represent Arizona in the Democratic Delegation and will be heading to Denver this weekend for the Convention. (Contrary to popular, albeit misguided, belief, we do not all worship the ground that John McCain walks on here in this great Southwestern territory!) This is her first time as a delegate and she earned her spot through lots of hard work and dedication to the political process. Katie is one of the most well spoken, educated, liberal, feminist, politically involved women that I know or could ever hope to be. Stop by her convention blog for a read, but only if you don't have one of those elephant bumper stickers on your car. Or maybe especially if you do. You might learn something!

The Mayor of Dreamville

2008-08-20T19:52:00.000-07:00

(I know. I already used this picture a few posts ago. But it's my blog, and I'll re-photo if I want to!)

You know how when your kid is 2 and does something once or twice and it's cute so you encourage it and now they're 3 and that cute 2-year-old thing is a really annoying habit that you wish you had never encouraged in the first place because now it can't be undone?

Last summer when Dylan was 2 we visited his aunt and uncle (Scott's sister and brother-in-law) in Kansas City. We were putting him to bed one night of our visit and Aunt Diane did this little bedtime ritual with him that she had done with her boys when they were smaller. She took some dreams out of her pocket, shook them up in her closed hands, then opened her hands over his head to let the dreams pour in. Short, sweet, simple, done, he's ready to drift off to dreamland. The ritual was repeated with Aunt Diane each night we were there. A few days after returning home, Dylan asked for dreams. Short, sweet, simple, done, right? What harm could there possibly be in that? Besides, I was feeling desperately guilty that he only sees Aunt Diane once a year for a week or so at the most and they'd had such a connection on this trip and I wanted to nurture that for him and for her so that he would instantly love her the next time he saw her. Thus the removing of the dreams from the pocket and the placing of them into Dylan's head became our bedtime ritual, always with the reminder that Aunt Diane had sent the dreams for him.

It is now a year later and this short, sweet, simple, done ritual has morphed into a never ending, knock down, drag out battle for the perpetual delay of actually laying the head on the pillow to drift off to said dreamland.

"Why do you have dreams in your pocket?"

"How did they get in there?"

"Do I have dreams in my pocket, too?"

"What are the dreams about?"

"I need more dreams than that!"

"You forgot to get the dreams out of your other pocket, too."

"Now the dreams are coming out of my head. You need to come and put them back in."

"What is a dream?"

"But I wanted dreams about..."

Every. Single. Night. Without. End. (I know, I know. They're only small once and I will miss this when it's gone, blah, blah, blah.)

Last night Scott was putting Sadie to bed and Dylan wanted to help. "I have to give her dreams,

Daddy." (So adorable, yet so dangerous.)

NOOOO! Sadie will have to learn another route to Dreamville.

In the Closet

2008-08-19T23:06:00.000-07:00

So I may have broken my tailbone. Really, it's probably just a little bruised and sore and I want to whine. Just a little. Here's how I did it:

(I know, not the best picture, phone camera. Then I didn't get any pics of us actually on the ice because the battery died!) Saturday was Sam's birthday (10th!!) and we all went ice skating because that is how he wanted to celebrate. (Did I say, "Thanks, Sam! GREAT idea!"?) Anyway they have these "nifty" (NOT!) walkers for the little guys to help them not fall on the ice. These walkers don't help the parents, who are trying to help said little guys balance, to not fall on the ice. That being said, it has been at least 18 years since I have donned ice skates, so one fall for the entire night isn't too bad. It hurt a little when I landed, right on my keester, but I got up and kept skating. (I am proud to say that I managed to not pull Dylan down with me. Because I know you're keeping track of my points toward Mom-of-the-Year.) Later I couldn't sleep very well because it is very hard to find a position that doesn't put any pressure on the tailbone. Which I never would have known otherwise, but would have been perfectly happy to go through the rest of my life ignorant of. And it has gotten increasingly painful over the last few days. If you know anything about these types of injuries, please leave a comment. I've heard there isn't much that can be done for a broken tailbone, medically speaking, but a little something for the pain would be nice. Stronger than Advil, please. (See, just a little whining.)

Needless to say my running shoes have remained in the closet so far this week.

Update Wed. 8/20 evening.: No drugs needed. Thank you, Massage Envy!

Update Sun. 8/24 morning: I, um, seem to have *wink* aggravated the tailbone injury last night. So much pain! Please send drugs.

Random Acts of Sadieness

2008-08-13T16:48:00.000-07:00

Going through my August photos, I found many, many faces of Sadie. So this post is a showcase of everything that is her. Few words are needed. (Maybe queue up song #2 on the playlist?)

Mornin' sunshine!

MYYYYYY Ice Cream!!!

I didn't do it!!

Future career?

You be quiet! It IS a cute hat!!

If you love my attitude now Mom, just wait until I'm 13!!

Mommy, PLEEEEEASE let me out!!

I love my big brother!

School Boy

2008-08-12T19:50:00.001-07:00

In preparation for Dylan's first day of school, Scott finished his desk and it was waiting for him in his bedroom when he woke up this morning. It is a vintage school desk which was mine growing up. We repainted it and replaced some of the wood. Now it will be Dylan's. He already has the compartment loaded up with stuff.

Ready to go. "How do I look?"

Here, Dylan is playing on the playground before school with some of his new classmates.

He is pretty over the moon about all of the construction related toys, especially this one below. It has a scooper for the sand that he can control with the levers.

Mrs. V. did an outstanding job of convincing the kids that it was time to leave constructionland behind and go into the classroom.

Lined up for counting practice. Let's make sure everyone's here.

Rarin' to go, he was the first one in!

So I didn't cry. Well, I might have teared up just a little bit. And maybe I was a little too choked up to say good-bye. After the kids went inside, Mrs. V did an equally outstanding job of convincing the parents that it would be easiest if this was now good-bye, although we were more than welcome to hang out in the room if we wanted too. So I poked my head in the door to tell Dylan that I'd be back in a while to get him, and to have a great day. He was fine. He didn't need me to reassure him. So I cried, just a little bit. And that's it. The only very first day of school that he will ever have, ever. And it was perfect. Because he can't wait to go back. Which is all that I had hoped for.

(Edit Wed a.m.) I woke up this morning and found an email from Dylan's teacher. Enclosed was this picture that she took of him enjoying playdough. It was so nice of her to send the photo, even though I think she might not like us very much right now. Apparently, at some point during the day Dylan asked her when she was going to play her loud guitar for them. So she wants to know where he got the idea that she would be playing a loud guitar for her students. I guess when Scott has a discussion with his son about possible school activities, including music time, he shouldn't say, "Maybe so, you should ask her," when asked by his 3-year-old if his teacher would play a guitar during music time. Although we sincerely appreciate her efforts to rise to any challenge presented by her students, I hope Mrs. V wasn't up too late scouring the community class schedule looking for guitar lessons!

One more sleep until...

2008-08-11T20:29:00.000-07:00

As I post this, Dylan is tucked into bed asleep. Tomorrow is his first day of preschool. He has no idea that tomorrow will be different from any other day. We've visited the school before, and met his teacher. I don't think he distinguishes "going to school" from any of these previous visits. Since he doesn't really know what "going to school" entails or anything about those first day jitters, I am feeling them for him. I am excited for this big step in his little life, and proud and (more than) a little bit nervous. Really, I just hope he likes going to school. Because isn't that all a parent should wish for their child? That they grow up happy? Sweet dreams, little boy!

(I must give credit to Dylan's teacher for the title of this post. When we met her, she told him, "Four more sleeps until you come back to school." I hadn't thought of communicating the passing of days in this way before and it makes way more sense than telling a three year old, "tomorrow" or "in a few days." Thanks Mrs. V. We are really looking forward to the school year! Here's a link to her blog, Diary of a Preschool Teacher, if you care to read and know why we think he's going to have an outstanding school experience!)

Boating, anyone?

2008-08-08T08:43:00.000-07:00

We just got back from a week in the Midwest visiting Scott's family. Unfortunately, we didn't unpack the camera until the last day of our trip, so these are among the very few photos that we actually took.

Dylan and Sadie enjoy the view of Lake of the Ozarks from the deck at Grandma and Poppa's:

And a view from the boat:

Can I tell you how much Sadie loves wearing her life vest?

These are probably the last photos that we will have of Dylan and Sadie at the Williams' lovely lakeside home. They have decided to move inland and have their house on the market, so this was a pretty nostalgic trip for us. A couple of happy side notes to Grandma and Poppa's new venture:

First, their new home will border a golf course, so Poppa will never be more than a stone's throw from a round of his favorite pastime.

Second, we are soon to acquire the boat pictured above. In their infinite generosity, Scott's parents have offered to sell us this gently used water craft in pristine condition for a very fair family discount price. Scott will be travelling back soon to haul it home. I have a feeling we are about to discover friends that we never knew we had!

Zzzzzzzzzzz.....

2008-08-02T06:28:00.000-07:00

(or why I will never really be a runner)

I haven't told many people yet, but maybe saying it out loud (publishing it in my blog?) will make me actually get my fat ass out of bed in the morning. I am planning to run the P.F. Changs Rock 'n Roll half marathon in January. Yes, I have run a marathon, and a half marathon in the past, as well as some 5 and 10 K's. No, not on the same day and no, I wasn't really a runner back then either. The last time I ran or raced was over 4 years ago, in case you were wondering. Now that Scott and I have decided to be done reproducing, I no longer have an excuse to hoard fat on my body in preparation for incubating another human. So it's time to get my pre-prego shape back.

Since most of my day is spent chasing after two small children (does that count as actually running?) and since it is so fuh-reeeeaking hot here my plan is to beat them out of bed and beat the heat by getting up at 5:00 to go for a daily run. I am a morning person. I look forward to the solitude that running (imagine air quotes around the word running here) provides and it's pretty much the only down time I get. Plus, I like running. Period.

Here is why my plan is far from foolproof:

1. When Scott travels and I am left as the sole caretaker in my home, I can't exactly take off for an hour jaunt around the neighborhood just because my kids are still sleeping and won't know I'm gone.

2. When he is here and I have the chance to follow through, I tend to bypass the snooze button and just go straight for off. Maybe if I hit it really fast it will be like it never sounded in the first place. My excuse will be, "Darn it! Forgot to set the alarm again! Well, too hot now and the kids are up! It'll have to wait for tomorrow." (It's not like I ever even go back to sleep after turning it off either. I just don't want to get out of bed!)

3. Lately, I would rather blog than run, especially because the former reduces the risk that I will be reported to Child Protective Services (see excuse #1).

4. I have never really been a runner.

So here's my new plan: Panic!! because

a) I just spent $89 to replace the running shoes that I hadn't worn for 4 years. (Yes, the above picture is a view of my new running shoes on my feet as I lie in bed pretending to have not set the alarm! No, I didn't wear them to bed so that I could jump up and be ready to go. That would be silly! I turned off the alarm and couldn't get back to sleep because I was thinking of running but didn't want to get up yet. And I was thinking, "this could make a great post." So I got up to put the shoes on and find the camera, then laid back down to take the picture. Pretty clever, huh?)

b) It is only... well I don't really know how many days until P.F. Changs because I'm not that good at math but, it's like, the second weekend in January which is only 4 months away! (See, not that good.)

c) I have only been able to run (again, air quotes) about 3 miles. I have a long way to go (literally).

d) Did I mention my fat ass?

Alright. It is 7:10, not that hot out yet, Scott is home, I'm outta here. Wish me luck!

Update at 8:15: Didn't run. Too hot!

Update at 11:30: Off to the airport. Running shoes didn't fit in suitcase.

That Gay Boy

2008-08-01T16:29:00.000-07:00

(Not that there's anything wrong with it!)

Relating the story of the gay boy requires two prefaces. I will probably kill the punch line before you get to it, but bear with me.

1. Dylan is in this phase of identifying strangers that we encounter in various places by the color of clothing they have on. The man stocking the shelf at the grocery store in a black shirt is perhaps "that black guy" over there (as in, "Hey Mom! What is that black guy doing over there?!" said in the voice of a toddler with no concept of an inside voice), or the girl with her mom at the library might be "the green girl and red lady" to name a few examples. It makes for interesting conversations with complete strangers whom I will probably never see again.

2. While it is possible to have an intelligible conversation with Dylan on virtually any subject known to man (or at least imaginable by a 3 year old), he has a few pronunciation issues, especially with the consonant blends. School is sool, bread is bed, and so on.

Do you get where I am going with this? Have I ruined it for you yet? Keep reading, the punch line is worth it.

So today we're at Chic-fil-a (our absolute favorite family friendly fast food place, BTW) enjoying the delightful toddler play area after a lovely lunch of various chicken items. Dylan befriends another child in the play area who happens to be a three year old boy. "Mom, that boy is thee, just like me!" (It's not a typo.) They are playing like three year-olds and friend decides to visit his mom sitting just outside the door to the play area. He opens the door to leave and Dylan starts to follow him out. We're sitting inside the play area with him and don't want him to go out, thus the following dialogue:

ME: Dylan, stay in here with us.

DYLAN: (yelling with door still open) BUT MOM! THAT GAY BOY IS MY FEND! I WANT TO GO WITH THAT GAY BOY!!

ME: (can't stop laughing, door is still open, then finally) What?!!

DYLAN: (door is now closed so said boy's mom can't hear explanation) That boy's shirt is gay just like mine and he's my fend!

Ooohhh. Not exactly the conversation I want to have with gray boy's mom. Sorry lavender lady!

(I'm so glad that gray boy's shirt didn't have a flag on it.)

Dude, Where's My Baby?!!

2008-07-31T13:38:00.000-07:00

This tiny, cute, sleeping, helpless, creature is starting SCHOOL in a week and a half. (Granted, it is PRE-school, and it is only two days a week, but it is still a milestone in his little 3 and 1/2 year life.) Since this picture of total dependence was taken a tad over 3 years ago, Dylan has learned to walk, talk, feed himself, drink from a glass, play, share, dress himself, put his shoes on, use the toilet on his own, express his desires and dreams, and make us laugh at his sense of humor. He can count to 12 (usually), knows his ABC's, sings Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star among many other favorite songs, and astounds us with his insight. When did this little creature become a person? As I ponder where the time has gone I find myself feeling so proud of everything that he is and will become, and a sense of accomplishment at having produced this little human. Yet here I am in a puddle of tears in the middle of Big Lots making this purchase of some needed school items:

My poor son is going to be so embarrased of me by the time I send him off to college!

Dylan the Diver and Sadie the Swimmer

2008-07-25T19:33:00.001-07:00

We finished swimming lessons last week with both of the kids making much more progress in the last 2 weeks than the first two. The community pool where we took lessons has a beach entry, and here are Dylan and Sadie splashing around before class one morning:

Sadie with Daddy in her parent/child class:

Dylan with his teacher, using a kickboard (new skill!) and jumping in from the side (which he could do before taking lessons, but his form is MUCH better now):

This last swimming photo is in our pool at home. I was kind of anti-flotation device before lessons this summer because I had heard that using them can give children a false sense of security in the water. But they had the kids use life vests during lessons to practice some of the kicking and paddling skills that they had worked on. So we don't let Dylan swim with the vest on all the time, but it is really helping him to build his confidence and work on skills. He likes wearing the goggles to keep water out of his eyes and nose. I saw him all decked in his gear and said, "Hey, you look like Scuba Steve!" to which he replied, "No, Silly! I'm Dylan the Diver!" The video shows him doing just that. It is short and cute, so watch it! (And yes, that is a beer in my hand while I am supervising my child in the pool. Don't worry, he's wearing his USCG approved life jacket and there was obviously another adult present. Someone had to be shooting the video, right? Although, said videographer may or may not have been enjoying a beer at the same time!)

Scott is out of town next week, so I may be bored and craving adult-like dialogue enough to actually post again soon! After that, we are off to Kansas and Missouri to visit an aunt, an uncle, a couple of cousins, and grandparents. Check back soon!

Summertime Blues

2008-07-02T19:52:00.000-07:00

Well here we are less than 2 entire weeks since I promised to post more consistently and I'm already back again! Not great, but a definite improvement over a 3 month lapse. This really cool photo was taken (by Scott) last Thursday evening, around 7:00pm. We had a wild fire, set off by lightening earlier in the week, burning for several days in the west valley. The sun, about an hour before setting, was covered by black smoke and appeared to be a red ball in the sky. It was an incredible sight and in reality looked quite different than the photo actually turned out. If you live here, you know how coverage of summer wild fires dominates the evening news. This is the closest I can remember hearing of one to Phoenix and being able to see the smoke so clearly the entire time it was burning. In the end, only a few residents voluntarily evacuated and all are now back in their homes safely.

Since it is already July, I thought I would update you for the month of June and let you know how we have been spending our hot Arizona summer. Now that I have only my 2 children to care for on a daily basis, we have really been enjoying getting out and about and taking advantage of activities that our city offers for kids during the summer. We are taking swim lessons every morning for a 30 minute session. Both the kids are gaining confidence in the water and having lots of fun! (Sorry no photos to post right now of swimming.)

We have also been going to the library every week, which I am a little ashamed to say was a place that I had NEVER taken Sadie to, and Dylan hadn't been there since before she was born! There is a great kids' play area and many different story and music times that we have been enjoying. And of course they love picking out new books and videos each visit. Dylan knows right were to look on the shelf for his new obsession, any video having to do with any kind of vehicle, especially fire and construction trucks. Here are a few photos of him dressing up like the guys driving the trucks in the DVDs. He loves to ride his "fire truck" (tricycle) in circles through the house (since it is WAY TOO HOT outside) and make a siren sound, while wearing a helmet and his "big heavy boots." Here he stopped for a little break after a daring rescue of Sadie from some "emergency!" He also likes to put on his construction gear (goggles and gloves and whatever else he can find) and build while he watches the videos of construction crews and their machinery.

Sadie is a little less structured in her imaginative play. Here she had happened to climb into a box and was having the time of her life. If she had more words, she would be able to tell us what she was pretending. But since all she did was climb in and out and laugh for nearly half an hour, I will let the "ha ha!" smile speak for itself!

We will leave you with some yummy summer sweetness because our popsicles are melting faster than we can lick them! We hope your June was this delicious!

Have you missed us?

2008-06-23T21:51:00.000-07:00

We're still here! No excuses, I just haven't posted for a while. Now that I have only 2 children in my household on a daily basis instead of 6, maybe I will have more time on my hands to keep my blog current. (I am officially retired from providing childcare for other than my own 2 kids!) Here are a couple of photos to remind you what we look like in case you forgot over the last few months. Sadie is enjoying breakfast (notice the longer hair and pigtails!) and Dylan is in his backyard "treehouse" with his friend James. (Dylan's hair, though not in pigtails, is quite long in this photo. He has since gotten a very short summer cut.) I promise I will be back soon with regular updates and photos.

Three Rocks!

2008-03-23T21:19:00.000-07:00

As per my apparent blogging tradition, it is now significantly past Dylan's birthday and I am just getting around to posting some pictures and letting you know how we celebrated being 3 years old! Here he is trying to make his hand say "three." Dylan's birthday was on a Saturday this year, so the day before, he had cupcakes to celebrate with his day care friends. He had told me months in advance that they had to be firefighter related so this is what I came up with: orangy firey frosting with flames cut out of fruit roll up and each cupcake had a helmet, hydrant, or engine on it.

Here he is enjoying his cupcake after blowing out the candles. All of the kids wore red fire helmet party hats.

Sadie liked the cupcakes too!

On Saturday, Dylan opened his presents. Here is what ROCKS about his third birthday: I was over the moon about Dylan turning 2. He could talk about it being his birthday, he knew how to blow out the candles, he was excited about opening presents, basically he knew that the day was all about him. AND he was very into the Wiggles at the time and they just happened to be in town for a concert on the day of his birthday. So of course we went, and at the time I remember thinking that it would be hard to come by another event that could top how I felt at witnessing the pure joy he expressed in the moment that they took the stage in that big red car. It was pretty incredible.

Anyway, fast forward to opening presents on the morning of his third birthday. He kept reaching for a particular package (a rescue vehicle that he had seen while shopping with me a few weeks before). I wanted him to wait and open it last because I was pretty sure that when he saw it he would lose interest in any other gifts still waiting to be opened. So he finally gets to open it and I am pretty sure that the gratification I felt at his reaction was pretty close to when the Wiggles took the stage last year. He exclaimed with pure joy, "I ASKED FOR THIS!!! I WANTED IT AND YOU GOT IT FOR ME MOM!!!" If it is possible, I think I was happier than he was. Here he is below, enjoying his new favorite toy, and also a really cool retro tricycle that his Grandma and Poppa got for him.

P.S. I can't say I got in trouble, though I wouldn't say Scott was happy about Sadie's first haircut. Her hair is now long enough to put in little pigtails, which you can kind of see in this not great photo. But you get the idea. He can't stop staring at Sadie in pigtails which are only enhanced by her bangs. So I have redeemed myself, for now!

Before and After

2008-02-28T19:03:00.000-08:00

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to do something about it today. Sadie is going through her little life developing a distorted sense of sight because of the hair constantly in front of her eyes. She used to let me clip it back with little barrettes (as you can see in many photos in previous posts) but she recently discovered that those little barrettes are always there and if she is persistent enough they will come out and make nice little tidbits for her to chew on. So no more barrettes. (Beauty and, more importantly, normal visual development are NOT worth a call to 911.) This before picture is not an exaggeration. That is really how her hair just is all the time and I have been unable to do anything to get it out of her face now that she has decided to make snacks of her clips. So Sadie needed bangs which made today first haircut day.

It also had to be today because Scott is out of town until tomorrow, and he has voiced objections to the idea of cutting her hair. I knew he would talk me out of it if I waited until he was back, and I would still be going crazy over that hair in that cute face. I may have jeopardized my marriage, but what's done is done and I don't regret it. This after photo was the only one I was able to get today. I know you don't get the whole effect because of the dark background so you can't see all of her hair. I REALLY only let them cut her bangs! She can see me, I can see her, no harm done, right? We'll see what dad says when he gets home tomorrow! How could he not love that bang-framed face?!!

(Belated) Birthday Girl

2008-02-24T18:37:00.001-08:00

Exactly one month ago today, our little Sadie bug turned a year old. Realizing today that she is thirteen months old, I decided it was time to post some photos to share how we celebrated.

First, Sadie blew out a candle on her own ladybug cupcake with her day care friends on her actual birthday.

Later when Dad got home from work, she got a couple of gifts (a baby doll and stroller that she LOVES pushing around).

Then we all went to dinner where Sadie enjoyed her first banana split (which was bigger than her).

The weekend after Sadie's birthday, we had a celebration with all of our Arizona family. Here are some photos of her checking out a few of the gifts that she received.

This last picture is after she devoured a ladybug cupcake, before getting cleaned up. She even had red frosting on the bottom of her feet and there was a trail of red footprints leading from the kitchen to the bathtub! I think the look on her face says it all: I'm one! Ha-ha! Just try and catch me now! (Needless to say we haven't yet!)

These boots...

2008-01-27T19:27:00.000-08:00

...are made for walkin'!

Walking is now officially Sadie's primary mode of transport. She suddenly left crawling behind last Thursday, exactly a week before her birthday. More to come on the birthday soon, just wanted to get this walking video posted before she decides to train for a marathon!

Almost!

2008-01-09T17:16:00.000-08:00

Sadie was 11 months old on Christmas Eve. I can't believe she is almost a year... just a few short weeks away! We have recently been going through photos and printing all of our favorites to fill a collage frame. It has been fun to look back and compare Dylan at the same age. Here he is (with Mom) just a month away from his first birthday. Dylan didn't take steps on his own until several weeks after his birthday. Sadie has been "walking" since New Year's Eve. The quotation marks are because she won't do it without much coaxing and it definately isn't her primary mode of transport yet, but she's ALMOST there. Maybe by her birthday! (She has a few weeks to practice in the secrecy of her dark room and crib!) I promise to post video very soon of her "walking."

A December to Remember

2007-12-29T18:40:00.000-08:00

Where has the time gone? Another year is almost over. Dylan will be three before we know it, but not before his little sister turns 1! This time last year we were settling down from the holidays, getting Dylan ready to move into his new room and a big boy bed. Here he is a year ago, sleeping in that bed for the first night. Our life was busy getting things ready for a new baby that we didn't even know yet. Now none of us can imagine our life without her!

This month has been all about firsts for both of the kids. Of course, it was Sadie's first Christmas, first visit to Santa, first tree, first stocking, presents, all of that stuff. For Dylan, I think it was the first Christmas that he will really have memories of.

Here he is on Christmas Eve at Nana's house with all of his Arizona cousins: Lilee (4), Hannah (5), Felisya (8), and Sam (9).
Sadie was not happy about the idea of a group photo but was content to show off her holiday duds while sitting on Mom's lap and taking in all of the activity.

Here they both are on Christmas morning enjoying the spoils. Dylan is dorked out as Diego, animal rescuer (thanks, Hannah!) and in some safety goggles that came with a power saw that Sadie picked out for him. Sadie just watches and laughs from the big red wagon that Nana and Grandpa got them both.

This last photo is of Dylan and Sadie enjoying the shower in our nearly completed master bath. It was taken the day before the glass surround was installed. (It's gorgeous and makes it look like a real grown-ups bathroom!) We are just waiting for the vanity cabinet to arrive any day now and we will have our bathroom back! Scott finished the painting and re-installed the toilet. Last night was the first time since mid-October that I have been able to get up in the middle of the night and not have to go all the way down the hall to use the restroom! (Happy Birthday to me!) I promise to post great after pictures when it is all done (even though I also promised to post demo and construction photos, which I haven't. I will do one big remodel post when everything is in.)

Walkin' After Midnight (and other family updates)

2007-12-18T19:02:00.000-08:00

If you are reading this now, I guess that you check in from time to time, so you have probably missed us. We're still here! I didn't realize that it had already been a month since posting! There is the "just too much other stuff going on to make the time" excuse. We were fortunate enough to have Dylan and Sadie's grandparents visiting us from Missouri this past week. We had a great visit with them, wish it could have been longer, and hope that had a safe journey home. We hope to see you again soon, Grandma and Poppa!

The other excuse I have for waiting so long to post since last time is this: When I first began blogging, everything that happened during the day became a post title and a story brewing in my head until I could get to the computer to dump photos and blog. Maybe the novelty of blogging has worn off a little because I stopped thinking up titles and stories for new posts as I went about my days. As more time passed between posts, more pressure mounted to come up with a new entry. I guess that I was inspired the other day to create a new post as I spied on Secret Sadie in her crib through the crack of the door. At about 3:00am I heard her in her room (not crying, just babbling). I went to peek in on her to see if she would need coaxing back to sleep. I saw her standing in the middle of her crib, not holding on to any of the rails, and rocking back and forth on her feet. She did this for a few seconds as I spyed, then promptly grabbed her binky and snuggle bunny and settled back down to sleep. She must have been inspired by her dreams to get a little stepping practice in. If you have read any other Secret Sadie posts, then you have probably guessed that this was more stepping than we have actually seen in public. This photo of Sadie is not of her walking in her crib, but actually taking an unassisted step toward Scott with the camera! She has taken steps on her own several times (only one at a time before she resorts to crawling), and she can stand without holding on to anything for many seconds at a time. She will definately be walking before Dylan did! I have to admit that I will be secretly sad to see her give up crawling. I cannot get enough of watching her cute little butt wiggle from side to side as she (very speedily) crawls around.

Here are some other cute, recent photos. The first is Sadie after eating her favorite breakfast (to eat and rub into her hair) of Cheerios and yogurt. Her hair was absolutely covered in yogurt and this was after my attempt to wipe some of it away with a damp washcloth.

Next are Dylan and Sadie enjoying a shampoo and some styling in a recent bath.

Sunday was Scott's birthday, and one of his gifts was a Kansas Jayhawks t-shirt and one for each of the kids. Here they are enjoying his gift.

I know this is already a long post but I have one last, GREAT update! We are officially a 1-kid-in-diapers household! Dylan is in BIG BOY underpants all the time (except he does wear pull ups at night but they are always dry in the morning). He has had only 1 accident in over a month! YEA!!!

New Tricks

2007-11-16T12:04:00.000-08:00

Is it just me or does this happen to everyone? Every time Sadie does something new I am amazed at what she has learned to do, but equally so that I don't remember being that awed when Dylan had learned to do the same thing. Maybe it is because he is still doing new things everyday, like sharing thoughts and concepts that I can't fathom how he figured out, so high-fiving and clapping seem trivial. It could be that I feel more seasoned with this second child and not being so overwhelmed by motherhood is allowing me to enjoy every detail more than I was able to the first time. Or do they really just grow up so fast that you forget, as everyone says will happen. That must be it because even Sadie's short history fades from memory as she becomes more and more her own little person and less of a helpless infant. I will just continue to enjoy each moment of watching my children grow and learn, all the while keeping in mind the most important part: what amazing people both of them are becoming. I hope you enjoy this little clip of Sadie's newest tricks!

MMMMM... sketti!

2007-11-15T18:35:00.000-08:00

Here is a picture of Dylan when he was about a year old, one of the first times he ate spaghetti with red sauce. He LOVED it! And although I liked the idea of fixing him food that he loved to eat you can imagine that pasta with red sauce was not at the top of my list for the mess that came with it. Now that he is pretty adept at using utensils for eating, red sauce isn't such an event, but he is just as fun to watch eating his pasta. I hope you enjoy this video from dinner a few nights ago.

Li'l Pumpkins

2007-11-03T03:35:00.000-07:00

Dylan's nana got him this orange pumpkin creeper which he wore for his first Halloween. At the time he was 6 weeks younger than Sadie is now. We put her in the same jammies this Halloween and compared pictures we had taken of Dylan 2 years ago. Dylan is in the photo on the left with the jack-o-lantern and Sadie is in Daddy's chair on the right. (And then there's Dylan now lovin' on his little sister and happy to make her smile!)

It is amazing to me to look at what Sadie can do now and realize how much and how fast I have forgotten about when Dylan was that small, just 2 years ago (because look at all HE can do now!). These last 3 photos are of Dylan, showing us some things that he has since passed along to his little sister. She is now enjoying his Sesame Street activity center that Santa brought his first Christmas and his big red car. (She pulls herself up to standing on both toys and dances along with the music that they play!) She has this way of holding her feet with her toes all curled up that is so cute I can hardly bear to put socks on her. I did not remember that Dylan had done the same thing. (See how the toes of his right foot are all curled cute around that pumpkin? Would you cover that with socks?!!) Everyday of watching them both grow is such a great adventure...I can't wait for tomorrow!

Tricker Treatin'

2007-10-31T20:30:00.000-07:00

I know it has been almost 2 weeks since I last posted. Sorry to leave you hanging! Since today is Halloween, I have some great photos of my little trick-or-treaters to share. We have really been looking forward to today because this year Dylan is actually aware of what is going on. As decorations began appearing in stores and on neighborhood houses, he would talk about it being Halloween time. He decided on his own costume and helped us choose what Sadie should be (a ladybug since we always call her "Sadiebug"). Whenever we practiced what he would say as he knocked on doors to ask for candy, he would say, "Tricker treatin'!" Here they are, getting ready to head out for the big adventure and showing off their costumes for the camera. Sadie thinks she needs her big brother's hat but he's not so sure!

We baked and decorated pumpkin shaped sugar cookies with our day care friends today. Dylan was enjoying some serious frosting!

HUGE potty progress

2007-10-19T16:04:00.000-07:00

We took the kids to the zoo today. We put Dylan in a pull up diaper before we left so we wouldn't have to deal with accidents while out. We asked him a couple of times if his diaper was wet, or if he needed to use the potty. When we stopped for lunch he was REALLY doing the potty dance, so Scott took him into the restroom. His diaper was dry and he pee'd in the urinal!!! YEA!!!

More Sadie Secrets

2007-10-19T09:06:00.001-07:00

The other morning I went to get Sadie up from her crib. I put her standing up at the rail holding on and then called her dad. I jokingly told him that was how I'd found her, that she'd climbed up to standing by herself. Well, I guess the joke was on me because moments later here she is standing on the edge of the couch in the family room...she got there all on her own! Doesn't she look so proud of herself?

Here she is enjoying her lunch of peas and pear pieces. She only has 2 teeth as of yet, so we have been reluctant to give her much more than baby food. Lately it has gotten very frustrating to spoon feed her because she wants to grab the spoon (don't think this little girl is not strong enough to wrestle it away from us!) and we all end up covered in yummy puree. So we are trying real food in very small pieces that she can chew with her gums. So far no choking and we all seem happier (or at least cleaner!) at mealtimes. Max is especially enjoying the new found treasure trove of dropped morsels.

All Business

2007-10-18T10:09:00.000-07:00

According to my mom, when she was raising her kids, it was frowned upon to have children still in diapers after 18 months. Now days all the books tell you that before 30-36 months is too early for potty training. (especially boys!) Either way, we are so ready to downgrade to a 1-kid-in-diapers household, so a few months ago we started "practicing" using the potty every day, hoping that Dylan (almost 32 months) would begin showing signs of readiness to use it on his own. It went okay for a while, especially because we got lucky enough the first couple of days to time potty practice so that he actually pee'd while he was sitting there! The excitement of that soon wore off, along with any other incentives we could come up with to motivate him. It became such a battle to get him to sit on the potty that we decided he wasn't ready and so tabled all potty discussion for a while. It also hasn't helped that he is still in either diapers or pull ups, which don't help him feel a need to go on the potty.

Well, my day care kids are off this week, and we've had time to work on potty training and deal with accidents. So we have ditched the diapers except for at nap and bed time and if we've had to leave the house to run errands. This of course is perfectly timed with all of us sharing one bathroom, and having our water shut off for hours at a time all week due to our plumbing being redone throughout the house. Oh well.

Here is my summary of this week's progress so far:

Trips to the store to pick out big boy underpants: 3
Loads of laundry to wash soiled big boy underpants: 7
Gummy bears eaten as a reward for sitting on the potty: too many
Dylan saying, "I go sit on potty, I pee in potty": priceless

Sledgehammer Girl

2007-10-11T19:39:00.001-07:00

Do you ever watch those home improvement shows and secretly wish you could be that homeowner who takes a sledgehammer to everything in sight and then starts over from scratch? Our house was built in 1959 and although it is charming in a way that new construction homes could never be, it is far from pristine vintage. So we get to be those sledgehammering homeowners this weekend, at least in the (mostly original, yet surprisingly uncharming) master bathroom! (Yea!!) Here are some before pictures to show why:

This one shows a little demo already begun by water damage from a leaky shower. The baseboard an plaster have been crumbling off the wall. If you look really close you can see the grodiness that used to be grout around the base of the shower door. Oh, and lovely vinyl flooring.

We recently had a glass block window removed from the room and replaced with an energy efficient one. You can see the damage to the plaster around the window frame, and also more grodiness on the shower stall.

Here is another view of the dilapidated, dated (as opposed to pristine vintage) tile work and the teeny sink that Scott and I share.

All of this loveliness will be GONE this weekend. And I get to be Sledgehammer Girl! I hope I don't get carried away and forget about the new window!

Here is a shot of the tiny bathroom (which is also on the sledgehammer's hit list, but for a later date) that the 4 of us will be sharing during the remodeling; blow up baby tub, toys, potty training accessories, and all. We will keep you posted with during and after photos (sure to include at least one of me wielding, yes, a sledgehammer).

There she goes!

2007-10-10T16:16:00.000-07:00

As promised, here is some video of Sadie crawling. She is not up on her hands and knees yet, but she is getting around much more agilely than even a week ago. Sibling love has become, "NO SADIE! Don't get my stuff!" as she is able to maneuver herself around and get her hands on whatever she wants. And Dylan's toys are SO much more interesting than hers.

Another new trick she is mastering is waving hello and good-bye, as you will also see in the video clip. And by the way, (though there is no video of it yet) she is now publicly sitting up on her own! Next week, walking!

It's Winter!

2007-10-04T20:23:00.001-07:00

Not even close, but at least it is beginning to feel like what we could consider fall weather in Phoenix. Now that we can actually tolerate being outside for any length of time, Dylan, Sadie and I head out for a walk most afternoons around the neighborhood. I took this picture after we got home the other day and I had to snap it really fast before Sadie took off her glasses. Dylan had asked for his sunglasses before we left the house and I remembered that I had bought a pair for Sadie a while back. So I put them on her when we got in the sun and she actually left them on for most of the walk. She was absolutely over them, though, by the time we got back home, but I wanted a picture of her wearing them, so here it is. Dylan loves his because they are just like Daddy's.

So as you gaze upon the photo of my sunglass wearing, t-shirt and shorts clad children, you know that the weather was not the inspiration for the title of this post. I was amazed by something that Dylan pointed out as we were on our walk this day. We were going past a neighbor's home whose yard is covered in white gravel. (You know, the 1970's "desert" landscape look with the border of maroon lava rock.) Dylan saw the yard and said, "It's winter time!" Not, "Look, it's snow." No, he saw the white stuff on the ground and said,"It's winter time." Now I don't have low expectations for my children, but don't you think that's quite an inference for a two year old who has seen snow maybe 3 times in his life and who can't possibly remember the last time he was cold? We live in Phoenix! There is never snow on the ground here. It never feels like winter here. Does anyone know where I could get a MENSA application?

The Secret Life of Sadie

2007-10-03T20:02:00.001-07:00

I think that Sadie lives a secret life in the privacy of her bedroom when she knows that no one is watching. Today I put her down for a nap (for which she normally goes right to sleep) but I heard way too much happy baby noise coming from the bedroom. This is what I saw when I looked in on her:
Yep, she is sitting up in her crib. Keep in mind that I put her in there laying down and she has yet to get herself into sitting position on her own in public view. So I laid her back down and left her to nap, but not without spying on her through the crack in the door. Do you think she let me see her do it again? Nope! Yet a few minutes later more happy baby noises and sitting baby. This went on for quite some time before both of her naps today, during which time I didn't once actually see her sit on her own, just found her sitting and most times struggling to get her legs unstuck from between the crib bars.

The other thing that I think Sadie does secretly is crawl in her crib. She is still not doing much more (in public) than a belly scoot, but many times I have encountered her in the morning or after a nap up on her hands and knees with a "you caught me" smile on her face.

Maybe she is practicing her moves in private so that she can dazzle us with her strength and agility when we are least expecting it. Here is proof that she actually could get up onto her knees in a crawling position. She must have tired herself out mid-practice session and fallen asleep right in the middle of it.

Anyway, the crib mattress has now been moved to its lowest position in case she decides to work on pulling herself up to standing soon. I wonder what else she isn't letting us know yet that she can do.

Goooooooooo Diamondbacks!!!!!!!!!!

And for Grandma & Poppa in MO... Wow! 48 years!! Happy Anniversary!