Firsts and Lasts

Capturing firsts can be difficult, but not impossible. After all, it's not like most babies up and crawl with no notice. Instead they rock, they smile at you, they tease, and then eventually, the figure out how to lift that little tushie and then make their move. Other big firsts are similar.

Capturing lasts, on the other hand, can be impossible. Because often it happens without me even knowing it's happening. And sometimes, it can be a few weeks after the event happens that I realize it's probably never going to happen again. As much as I built up to Helen ditching her bottle, it wasn't until I downloaded a photo of her tipping one back on our farm trip with Grandpa Dick that it really hit me that I'm never going to have a child with a bottle again. What was once such a mainstay in our lives, always in our thoughts - because for the last year or so we had exactly one ring for that bottle, so we kept a close eye on it - is now gone. Someday, I'll even remove it from the cabinet.

On our camping trip last Spring, we went hiking, and during the hike, Helen fell asleep in Ed's arms. And it really brought me back to when she was a baby, and Ed carried her all over. Because that's the fate of Helen. Many times when she needed a nap, she just had to catch as catch can because we were busy doing things where no bed existed.

Ed and I were both cognizant of the fact that this might be the last time Helen ever passes out in his arms, both because her endurance increases daily but also because she's getting heavier, and it's hard to imagine him being able to carry her very far in that position for much longer.

Last night, Helen woke up at 11:30 and told me her stomach hurt. I held her for a few minutes, and she just couldn't get comfortable. She told me she needed to sleep in my bed, so back downstairs we went. She had already gone to the bathroom, and she didn't feel warm, so I wasn't sure what was up.

About an hour later, after tossing and turning, she asked Ed to take her upstairs and sleep with her there. They got about 5 steps outside our bedroom when she hurled all over him. Just like old times, it was. We cleaned her up, donned pair of pajamas #2 for the evening, and she told me she needed to sleep on my tummy.

This is only position she could get comfortable in when she was a baby and had terrible reflux. With a baby, it's difficult after a while. With a toddler, it's harder. But I really did love that Helen somehow found this position of comfort, refusing all others. It's not that Ed didn't help out. His role? Every couple of hours, Helen would sit up, cough, he would grab her, and run to the bathroom, and at some point during this run, she'd puke all over him.

And Helen is, by far, the happiest sick person in the world. As soon as she'd puke, she'd remark on how she was feeling better, be surprised that indeed, we had another pair of pajamas for her, and go back to sleeping on my tummy. Four outfits that little lady went through. Four.

But I didn't even mind that much, because even though my body ached in the morning, and I was wasted today when it came to thinking complex thoughts, I had one more memory of my baby sleeping right on top of me through the night. And this time, I'm remembering how comforting it is to see a small child sleep. Because I promised myself that a long time ago.

Elaine

Best we can figure, she ate a bad mussel yesterday. She's been fine since early morning.

Knowing When to Let Things Slide and When to Stick to My Guns

I find the hardest thing about parenting to be figuring out when to let something slide, and when to make a big deal about it. On the one hand, I fully realize that I'm the mom, and that means that it's my job to make rules. And the rules I make, if I do it right, could serve my children well. And I have to admit, when my kids were at the nature center last Friday, and they were offered the opportunity to touch a snake, I beamed with pride when Helen said "No thank you. I don't care to touch the snake." and the naturalist complimented her on being so polite. Because in my world, politeness counts. It's the way we express to every individual we come across that they are a person deserving of basic kindnesses.

On the other hand, life can be short, and when it comes down to it, does it really matter if my kid says thanks?

Part of the answer lies in long-term versus short-term thinking. If I live my life thinking about the long-term, then everything matters. It matters if my children tell the truth, eat their vegetables, and generally know how to live in a world with sometimes arbitrary and capricious rules. If I think only about the short-term, than the only thing that really matters is that my kids feel loved. Every moment of every day, and those vegetables really don't matter a bit.

My friend Benjie boiled his parenting rubric down to four things, when his son turned one.

be gentle

be careful

be patient

good job

And my friend Helen borrowed from Moxie:

be safe

be respectful

be kind

And those both seem like pretty good guidelines.

I think my parenting got a whole lot better when I committed to (1) trying to meet my children where they are and (2) not yelling (and that second one might just have resulted in a good exercise program because now when my kids yell, I don't yell back "STOP YELLING", I walk to wherever they are in the house, let them know that they're using an outside voice, and then proceed with my business). I'm not perfect at either of these, by a long shot.

This job sure would be a lot easier if there was just a set of rules that everyone followed and taught, though life would be awfully boring as well.

May the happy memories be many, and the shortcomings be few.

Tonight, I go to bed remembering Connor's last words to me. As I went up to tend to Helen just one more time, Connor said quietly from his room "I love you, Mom".

"I love you, too."

Elaine

Best Present Ever - Lego Train That Goes All By Itself!

Several months ago, Connor had a gift card to Toys-R-Us that allowed him to get a $10 item, or something like that (maybe less!). Ed and he went in search of "something small". But of course, Connor fell in love with a Lego train that goes all by itself. It was love at first sight, and he talked about it a lot. The pricetag kept Ed from bringing it home.

So then I started giving Connor $5 a week (most weeks) and I told him when he saved up enough money, maybe he could go purchase the train. I figured if he still wanted it after more than 6 months, he could get it.

I included it on a Christmas list for Connor, and because we celebrated Thanksgiving in Albany this year, and will not celebrate Christmas there, Ed's mom presented him with the Lego train as a Christmas gift a few days ago.

Connor was ecstatic. He saw the box and guessed right away what it was. He was so excited for it, in fact, that I talked to him a little bit about how sometimes we think one item is in a box, and it turns out to be another, and it's still appropriate to thank the giver for whatever item it is, even if it wasn't exactly what we thought it was.

Connor agreed. And he told me that he knew Grandma Lynn always got him good presents. And he would be happy with whatever was in the box...but he just knew it was a Lego train.

And note the incredibly awesome hat Connor is wearing. I knit that up for him over the break, and even though I wish I had opted for the smaller size, he loves it, and I think it's the cutest thing ever.

Today when we got home, Connor couldn't wait to show off his new train to our au pair, and then he told me at bath time that he was the luckiest boy in the world because he got the Lego train.

Elaine

Kicking New York City in the Ass

I have arrived at Vickie's house - with all of my luggage and all of my family members.

SO TAKE THAT NEW YORK CITY!

Of course, I shouldn't boast too much, given that I still have to get out of this city tomorrow.

Now - must commence chatting nonstop with Vickie in order to catch up on anything that's been happening in her life, and to gather any morsels of wisdom she might care to pass on. And to eat cupcakes. We bought the sampler. The kids go to bed soon.

New York City with Kids - Take II

I have a hard time admitting when something is bigger than me. A really hard time. I suspect part of it comes from the combination of being small in stature and the baby of the family. I have really spent the better part of my life thinking that I can do anything.

Often, that is a good thing.

But sometimes, it's probably best to admit defeat, and just learn to avoid doing certain things. And I'm not talking about trying out for the WNBA. That is something I know I can't do. This time, I'm talking about going back to New York City. The last time, the trip started out with an illegal parking spot, a sick child (that we were visiting), and losing Helen, ever so briefly. And the second day was not better.

But I am destined to not learn. So about a couple of months ago, I sent an email to my mother-in-law asking her if she wanted to go see the Rockettes with me this Winter. We've gone twice before and enjoyed it, and I think Connor would love it. She was excited to go, so we put a group of family members together and if all goes well, there will be 10 of us sitting at the afternoon performance tomorrow.

After that is when it really gets fun. I'm heading out to my friend's house again, and then Ed is heading into the city to meet a friend of his. If all goes really well, Ed will make it back out to my friend's house before we have to leave for DC on a bus the next day. If not, well, who knows how many bags or children will be left behind?

I figure, it can't be worse than last time, right?

Happy Thanksgiving: 2010

One nice thing about Thanksgiving is taking a moment to breathe in, look around, and give thanks. Here goes.

This year, I'm thankful for 5 year olds and good grooves, because for several months now, Ed and I have both been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Connor is just a happy kid. And he can (and does) dress himself (albeit mostly in sweat pants) most mornings and he even celebrated daylight savings recently by sleeping in until 8:00 the day before daylight savings started. It was awesome. Regularly, he hops up to his chair at breakfast, consumes a big meal, and then starts smiling and bubbling with excitement. It's contagious. Of course, there are still the occasional tired, very emotional days, but those are few and far between. And hey, I have them, too.

I'm also thankful for Helen. She is truly a pain in the rear end many days, saying "no" before considering any other answer, jabbering away non-stop, and recently taking to waving her arms, clapping, and shouting "Hey, Elaine!" when she wants my attention. But she also brings joy with her almost everywhere she goes, and she continues to be the snuggliest child in the world. And that is such a gift.

I'm thankful for healthy children and a partner that celebrates them with me.

I'm thankful for sleep, when I get it, and am hopeful that these last few nights of sleep are going to turn into a string of many, many nights of sleep. It's not the kids waking me. I think it's just the memory of waking often several years ago and never quite being able to kick the habit.

I'm thankful for a Democratic Senate that will hopefully hold the line in this next Congress and that we're getting closer to universal health care (though I continue to hold out hope of single payer). I'm thankful for the midwives that assisted me during pregnancy and that caught Connor and Helen. I still wouldn't do it any other way and I look forward to my annual visits with them. I wish the healthcare legislation would've provided more protections for midwives.

I'm thankful for no longer having to carry diapers when I travel.

I'm thankful for new recipes, dinners that get eaten by everyone (which happens occasionally), and that our local grocery store has started stocking Chincoteague clams. Everyone in my family loves those delicious, salty morsels. The last time we had them, Helen had 23, Connor had 23, and Ed and I had 1 apiece. Two didn't open.

I'm thankful for grandparents that come on ski trips, come to visit, and always agree to take morning duty when they visit. I'm also thankful for grandparents that allow me to drop my kids off for a week - or at least I hope to be someday (hint, hint). I'm also thankful for grandmas that never stop reading books.

I'm thankful for full-length musicals and lots of great, local children's theatre. Even more, I'm thankful that Connor and Helen seem cut out for the role of theatre buddies for me. Hopefully they'll wheel me into the theatre when I'm drooling on myself in my old age so I can see just one more show.

I'm thankful the Chiefs are winning again. It's been a long time.

I'm thankful for date night, HR57, and the proliferation of cupcake stores and high-end chocolatiers in the greater DC area. I'm thankful for good open mic nights at Iota, old friends returning to the States, and being back at Miriam's Kitchen. It's been a long time. I didn't realize how much I missed it. And along those veins, I'm thankful for Kevin Crowe's lecture at the Foundry this year.

And finally, I'm thankful for friends and family that inspire me daily. I believe in the power of positive energy. Thank you for sharing yours so freely.

Wordless Wednesday: Loretta Lynn Edition

Only she doesn't need a husband to tell her she ought to be performing.

Elaine

She Climbs!

In the past few months, it seems Helen has become so steady on her feet that she locomotes by running everywhere she goes. And as if that wasn't enough, she's also been mistaken for a monkey at a local playground!

Four Years and No Unintended Fires: Waldorf School Lantern Walk

As the days grow shorter, Waldorf schools join many cultural traditions by having a celebration centered around light. Children prepare their lanterns during school and at our school, the entire early childhood program joins together at a park to share a snack and then light their lanterns and take a walk, singing a little song one evening.

The first year we did this, I couldn't enjoy it. All I could think about was the fact that I was surrounded by children, many as young as two years old, carrying lanterns made of paper and tissue paper. As you might expect, a two year old doesn't necessarily carry her lantern mindful of the candle inside. Instead, they swing their lanterns around, and seem at times to forget completely that they have a lighted candle. With each wave of a lantern, I offer up a little prayer that nothing catches fire. Did I mention dry leaves typically cover the ground? So far, we've made it through four years with no fires. I call that a raging success.

As time has passed, I've become a lot calmer about the celebration. And, our collection of lanterns has grown so that now we have four (I suspect one was lost in the move, though it's possible one just wore out since one lanter walk never seems to be enough at our house). This means that everyone in the family can carry one.

So far this year, we've had the school walk and two of our own. Helen can't quite make it all the way around the block without being carried some, and Connor's candle always seems to burn out. It appears that Connor has become fascinated with watching the wax from the tea light melt and pool, and then he tips his lantern to pour the wax out into the bottom of his lantern. At that point, he just borrows Ed's or my lantern and carries on. Last night, he was particularly excited to wave his lantern when a car drove down an alley we passed.

The blue lanterns were made by me in parent-child class. Connor made the lantern with leaves last year in Kindergarten and he made the tin can lantern in Kindergarten this year.

I was thinking about this tradition recently when my friend Ellen asked me about how Waldorf schools taught the kids about seasons. They never sit down and talk about the leaves turning from green to gold, but the circle often center around seasonal happenings. They also never talk about the days being shorter, but that's exactly what the children learn from the lantern walk. Where once there was light during the early evening, now there is dark. So, we make our own light and enjoy the crispness of the air.

Elaine

Project People: Bathroom Redo Part 1

About two years ago, Ed and I made what was a monumental decision for us. We decided to move from our home - where both Helen and Connor were born - into another house. We were on the edge of a major renovation, when we decided we just could not live through all that construction. And I couldn't live with our tiny kitchen any longer and the layout of that house was just not working.

So we moved into a much larger house, with a huge kitchen. But it needed work to suit us. So immediately, we set about ripping out tons of shelves, and repainting. And then we turned out attention to the outside for the summer, and now we're readying our project list for the winter. And we're going for a biggie. One that will result in Ed and I having to use Connor and Helen's bathroom for some period.

I present to you...Ed's and my bathroom.

What will we be attempting to do?

1. Rip out those white shelves. Nobody needs this many shelves in a bathroom (though we did fill them up!), they're ugly, and someday they will fall apart. Someday soon, probably.

2. Rip out and replace all the bathroom furniture. This will include:

• replacing the disgusting medicine cabinet that is so rusty inside that I have never placed an object in it.
• replacing the very ugly and enormous cabinet above the toilet, that sometimes makes me think the wall will collapse beneath its weight.
• replacing the sink. I'm planning on getting one that is undermount, because I don't want to be tempted to "go toothpick" ever again in my life.
• replace the toilet, probably.
• replace the vanity - that is so gross underneath I only store bathroom cleaner and still in the package toilet paper.
• possibly replace the tub. Totally not sure on this one. It needs to be replaced, but this is already a huge job, and replacing that might open up a can of worms we're not ready for.

3. Rip out the ugly linoleum floor and put in tile. This part is particularly awesome because right after we bought our first home - in 2001 - we tiled our basement floor. We were total rookies, but we took a two hour class and figured we were pros. Naturally. We were not. And by the end of the project, Ed had moved the boxes tiles around the floor so much, prompting me to call him Sisyphus one too many times, and he absolutely refused to take the extra boxes of tiles back to the store, even though we could've gotten a chunk of change back. Instead, the tiles sat in our old basement, and then when we moved, we either left half of them or none of them, I can't remember. But now! Finally! We're going to use those tiles, though I'm sure Ed's back will start hurting just looking at the things.

4. Replace the light.

5. Replace the cheap plastic towel bars that have yellow paint on them because the last folks were apparently not inspired to remove them when they decided to turn the bathroom lemon yellow.

6. Repaint, and possibly tile the walls partway. Because we're totally pros at tiling, now that we've done one floor. Luckily, Helen honed her painting skills all last winter as we repainted much of our house.

It's not clear to me we can actually complete this project. So...anyone want to bet when the bathroom will be finished? Or, alternately, whether our marriage will outlast the bathroom redo?


I'm keeping our handyman's number on speed dial, just in case things start getting rough.

Elaine