The countdown is on.
Two weeks from today the big, burly men with the large truck will arrive at our apartment. They will load up all of our worldly possessions and haul them to New Jersey, where they will look pitifully insignificant in our new home.
Between now and then I have to pack said possessions into boxes in some kind of organized manner so that they will arrive at our new place in a.) one piece, and b.) enough order to actually find the things that we will immediately need. This is no small feat while I am being dogged all day by "small feet". I can do some packing while Cameron is awake, but I have to be seriously vigilant - he has been known to try to "help" Mommy pack. I have had to rescue sippy cups full of water, pacifiers, bags of coffee, bibs and my keys from boxes that Cameron has tried to helpfully pack for me. Mostly he just wants to get his hands on the razor sharp packing tape gun and the industrial sized permanent marker I use for labeling. Why are the most dangerous/harmful items always the most appealing?! Ah, a spiritual question for the ages.
Anyway, just a quick update on where we are and how we're doing. Closing is a week from this coming Friday. Then Kevin and I have to buy a car that weekend, finish packing the last minute items, all in preparation for the aforementioned burly movers. Thankfully, Kevin's mom was available that weekend and offered to come up and wrangle our little troublemaker while we're taking care of the final details. So nice to have one less thing to worry about that weekend!
More details to come...
Monday, August 03, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
A few more pictures of Casa Clem
We've had a few people ask to see more pics of the house, so here they are. Sadly, I didn't get any of the second floor bedrooms...but these are the more interesting ones. We took all of these pictures on the day of inspection, about a week ago - we're scheduled to close August 14.
This is the front entryway, just inside the front door.
Here's the living room and fireplace, taken from the front entry way.
Standing in the dining room, looking back toward the front door.
Another shot of the fireplace.
Not a great picture, but you can see the coffered ceiling in the dining room.
Our kitchen is the place that will need the most work.
This is a shot of the basement taken from the landing of the stairs.
Another area of the basement - play room! There's also a full bathroom down here.
And finally, the happy homeowners!!
This is the front entryway, just inside the front door.
Here's the living room and fireplace, taken from the front entry way.
Standing in the dining room, looking back toward the front door.
Another shot of the fireplace.
Not a great picture, but you can see the coffered ceiling in the dining room.
Our kitchen is the place that will need the most work.
This is a shot of the basement taken from the landing of the stairs.
Another area of the basement - play room! There's also a full bathroom down here.
And finally, the happy homeowners!!Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Jersey Girl
After a year of online searches, open houses, and home tours
we have finally bought house!
we have finally bought house!
This is our new home in Ridgewood, New Jersey. It's a lovely little 4 bedroom, 2.5 bath home with - believe it or not - a white picket fence. We are in the midst of all the home-buying "stuff"...Inspection, applying for financing, organizing a move, buying a car, etc. But we are scheduled to close on August 20. After 9 1/2 years of renting, we will FINALLY own a home. We are so excited. And Cameron, at long last and not a moment too soon, will have a backyard to run around in. Mommy is DEFINITELY grateful for that.
We're about 15 miles from New York City, so the commute will be pretty convenient for Kevin. And we have family in the same town - Kevin's first cousin Carrie and her family (husband, 4 kids and a dog), all live about 2 miles from us. So exciting! Cameron loves his cousins, and we're thrilled to have family close by.
So that's the scoop, friends! Come out and visit us! We're close enough to the city that you can pop in for the sightseeing, but now we have extra space and a bedroom or two to spare!
Thursday, June 04, 2009
I promise...
Today I was the very person I was cursing a year ago. It's the second most heard new-parent cliche, right after "it goes by so fast!". Yes, it's "It gets better, I promise."
I can remember about this time last year (though I use the term "remember" loosely...more like vaguely recall in a kind of hazy, sleep-deprived, Tylenol-popping, caffeine-sucking fog), I couldn't walk out of the apartment without someone saying it, and usually both together. They would take one look at my tiny little bundle, all 6lbs, 2oz of him, wrapped in a sweet fuzzy sweater with an adorable little hat, and they'd ooh and aah and say, "Oh, enjoy this...it goes by so fast." Then they'd take one look at me - baggy sweats, red-rimmed, baggy eyes, who hadn't seen the inside of the shower in the better part of the week - and they'd smile encouragingly and say it..."It gets better, I promise." I can remember the pitying looks from other moms as I shuffled through the park, and knew exactly what they were thinking..."oh yes, I know exactly how you feel, and I am so sorry for you. Ecstatic it's not me, but so sorry for you."
And then today, a mere 16 months later, I ran into a mom in the wine store. I was picking up a bottle or two for the weekend...she was buying a half a dozen. Ah yes, I remember it well. She asked Cameron's age, and I did the same...her response, "3 months...and I'm exhausted." As we're checking out she said, "when did he start sleeping through the night?" I said, "Mmmm, about 5 1/2 months." (Brutal, right?) You should have seen the sheer panic on her face. When you haven't slept in 3 months and someone tells you there is another 2 to go, it might as well be eternity. Then again, if I had said 2 1/2 months, she might have stepped in front of a bus right there thinking she was NEVER going to sleep again.
We walked out of the wine store and headed down the block together. She asked a hundred questions that are impossible to answer in a few minutes on a busy Manhattan street with a complete stranger. "How often did he eat? How many times was he waking up at this age? Did you do Ferber? Cry it out? I don't think I can handle that. How did you handle that? Did he sleep in your room? How did you know for sure if he was hungry or not? Did you let him cry even in the middle of the night?" The one question under it all that is never asked, but is all you really want to know...will I ever sleep again?
I tried to answer as best I could, given the short amount of time and knowing nothing about her or her "baby politics" - and, trust me, baby politics are everything to some moms. I tried to offer hope, and any tip I could think of from my own experience. I wracked my brain trying to remember what exactly I did right or wrong when Cameron was 3 months old (again, using "remember" loosely). I wanted to say, "every child is different, so I can't really tell you exactly what will work for your son, when he'll start sleeping through the night, whether or not you'll scar him for life if you let him cry longer than 4 minutes, exactly what order the bedtime routine should be, or any one of a thousand other things you'd love to have an answer to." So, all I could say as we parted on the corner of Central Park West and 96th was, "I gets better, I promise."
Aaaaugh.
Is there any phrase that engenders more desperate hope and, simultaneously, more sheer loathing to an exhausted new mom? Half of you clings to that promise desperately with both hands and the last little bit of your sanity, while the other half of you grits your teeth, because clearly these well-meaning morons have no idea what the @#%$& they're talking about.
But as a slightly-less-new-mom on the corner of a busy street with my own sweet boy on the verge of his own sleep-deprived meltdown (short naps suck), all I could offer from my 16 month perspective was platitudes. And what I didn't have time to explain, but what she'll soon realize (though it will hardly seem soon enough), is that one day she'll wake up and realize she's getting quite a bit more sleep, all night in fact...who knew she'd ever get there again? And while the sleep is definitely better, in it's place she's struggling with naps. And then it's food issues. And then it's temper tantrums. And then it's "no!". And then it's potty training. And then it's...
And all you can do is look down at your latest challenge, your current struggle, take a deep breath and remind yourself...
...it gets better, I promise.
I can remember about this time last year (though I use the term "remember" loosely...more like vaguely recall in a kind of hazy, sleep-deprived, Tylenol-popping, caffeine-sucking fog), I couldn't walk out of the apartment without someone saying it, and usually both together. They would take one look at my tiny little bundle, all 6lbs, 2oz of him, wrapped in a sweet fuzzy sweater with an adorable little hat, and they'd ooh and aah and say, "Oh, enjoy this...it goes by so fast." Then they'd take one look at me - baggy sweats, red-rimmed, baggy eyes, who hadn't seen the inside of the shower in the better part of the week - and they'd smile encouragingly and say it..."It gets better, I promise." I can remember the pitying looks from other moms as I shuffled through the park, and knew exactly what they were thinking..."oh yes, I know exactly how you feel, and I am so sorry for you. Ecstatic it's not me, but so sorry for you."
And then today, a mere 16 months later, I ran into a mom in the wine store. I was picking up a bottle or two for the weekend...she was buying a half a dozen. Ah yes, I remember it well. She asked Cameron's age, and I did the same...her response, "3 months...and I'm exhausted." As we're checking out she said, "when did he start sleeping through the night?" I said, "Mmmm, about 5 1/2 months." (Brutal, right?) You should have seen the sheer panic on her face. When you haven't slept in 3 months and someone tells you there is another 2 to go, it might as well be eternity. Then again, if I had said 2 1/2 months, she might have stepped in front of a bus right there thinking she was NEVER going to sleep again.
We walked out of the wine store and headed down the block together. She asked a hundred questions that are impossible to answer in a few minutes on a busy Manhattan street with a complete stranger. "How often did he eat? How many times was he waking up at this age? Did you do Ferber? Cry it out? I don't think I can handle that. How did you handle that? Did he sleep in your room? How did you know for sure if he was hungry or not? Did you let him cry even in the middle of the night?" The one question under it all that is never asked, but is all you really want to know...will I ever sleep again?
I tried to answer as best I could, given the short amount of time and knowing nothing about her or her "baby politics" - and, trust me, baby politics are everything to some moms. I tried to offer hope, and any tip I could think of from my own experience. I wracked my brain trying to remember what exactly I did right or wrong when Cameron was 3 months old (again, using "remember" loosely). I wanted to say, "every child is different, so I can't really tell you exactly what will work for your son, when he'll start sleeping through the night, whether or not you'll scar him for life if you let him cry longer than 4 minutes, exactly what order the bedtime routine should be, or any one of a thousand other things you'd love to have an answer to." So, all I could say as we parted on the corner of Central Park West and 96th was, "I gets better, I promise."
Aaaaugh.
Is there any phrase that engenders more desperate hope and, simultaneously, more sheer loathing to an exhausted new mom? Half of you clings to that promise desperately with both hands and the last little bit of your sanity, while the other half of you grits your teeth, because clearly these well-meaning morons have no idea what the @#%$& they're talking about.
But as a slightly-less-new-mom on the corner of a busy street with my own sweet boy on the verge of his own sleep-deprived meltdown (short naps suck), all I could offer from my 16 month perspective was platitudes. And what I didn't have time to explain, but what she'll soon realize (though it will hardly seem soon enough), is that one day she'll wake up and realize she's getting quite a bit more sleep, all night in fact...who knew she'd ever get there again? And while the sleep is definitely better, in it's place she's struggling with naps. And then it's food issues. And then it's temper tantrums. And then it's "no!". And then it's potty training. And then it's...
And all you can do is look down at your latest challenge, your current struggle, take a deep breath and remind yourself...
...it gets better, I promise.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Hmmm...
Here I am again...sitting in front of my computer, staring at my blog, wondering what in the world to write. This is why my blog is so pathetically empty, so rarely updated, so - dare I say - lame. I can think of nothing worth writing. I have a friend who has asked me to help contribute to her webizine...I can think of nothing to write. I am hardly an "expert" at anything and feel I have nothing new, novel or innovative to bring to the party. My life is seriously un-blog-worthy.
I have a 16 month old who whirls around like the Tasmanian Devil, leaving destruction in his path, yet doesn't speak a word. Oh wait, he does say "uh oh". Take one look at my living room, and you'll see he says that a lot. He has also said "Da Da" on occasion, though not regularly...and not actually to Kevin. But if he sees a picture of Kevin he will point to Kev and say "DaDa...DaDa...DaDa...". Mama? Nope. Ah well.
We spend hours each day at the playground. They have now turned on the summer sprinklers in the playgrounds, which Cameron LOVES. We both came home from the playground yesterday soaking wet and covered in sand. The Mini was in heaven, and Mommy spent naptime sweeping all the sand up off the floor, though totally worth it. Do you guys know about the baby powder trick? It is the best way to get sand off of tiny hands and feet. Just sprinkle baby powder all over their sandy hands or feet, and then dust it off...all that stubborn sticky sand sweeps right off with it. Plus you have a sweet powdery smelling Mini.
We've done a bit a traveling...trips to Chicago, Dallas and Maine in the last 2 months. But mostly we're here. Like I said...not blog worthy. Frankly just writing about this makes me want to go take a nap out of sheer boredem. But there you have it...a little something to dust the cobwebs off. Hardly worth writing, certainly not worth reading. We are alive and well, and keeping our heads above water. And that's about as exciting as it gets...
I have a 16 month old who whirls around like the Tasmanian Devil, leaving destruction in his path, yet doesn't speak a word. Oh wait, he does say "uh oh". Take one look at my living room, and you'll see he says that a lot. He has also said "Da Da" on occasion, though not regularly...and not actually to Kevin. But if he sees a picture of Kevin he will point to Kev and say "DaDa...DaDa...DaDa...". Mama? Nope. Ah well.
We spend hours each day at the playground. They have now turned on the summer sprinklers in the playgrounds, which Cameron LOVES. We both came home from the playground yesterday soaking wet and covered in sand. The Mini was in heaven, and Mommy spent naptime sweeping all the sand up off the floor, though totally worth it. Do you guys know about the baby powder trick? It is the best way to get sand off of tiny hands and feet. Just sprinkle baby powder all over their sandy hands or feet, and then dust it off...all that stubborn sticky sand sweeps right off with it. Plus you have a sweet powdery smelling Mini.
We've done a bit a traveling...trips to Chicago, Dallas and Maine in the last 2 months. But mostly we're here. Like I said...not blog worthy. Frankly just writing about this makes me want to go take a nap out of sheer boredem. But there you have it...a little something to dust the cobwebs off. Hardly worth writing, certainly not worth reading. We are alive and well, and keeping our heads above water. And that's about as exciting as it gets...
Monday, April 13, 2009
Death and Taxes
We finished up our taxes at the end of last week like the good, responsible, morally-upstanding citizens that we are. Kevin single-handedly tackles the madness with TurboTax as his guide. The Night of the Taxes, was a roller coaster that went something like this...
1.) Kevin enters all of our information - income, charitable donations, other financial type stuff I don't understand - and from the living room I hear, "What?!?". This is never a good sound from a husband trying to file taxes. Our friends in the IRS were trying to tell us we owed $6000+ .
2.) Kevin grumbled and frowned at the computer, shuffled papers, and eventually upgraded to the "deluxe" version of TurboTax in order to enter more detailed information. Ah ha...this seemed to fix the problem! After 30 minutes of adding more details, surprise!! We were getting paid $16,000! You can imagine the happiness...we were dreaming of heading out and buying a house that weekend! Fantastic! All has been provided...God is so good! We were giddy.
3.) Then...Kevin notices that some things aren't adding up. He decides to go back and delete and re-enter some information. And we watch our little green number at the top of the screen...the one that tells us how much we're getting back, how much we get to pocket, how much more we have to put down on a house...slowly scroll down, getting smaller and smaller and smaller.
In the end, let's just say while the number never made it into the red, it is significantly less than the $16,000 lottery we thought we had won.
And while it isn't logical, I feel I should confess that I was a little irked with God. Here we were, $16,000 theoretically in our pocket, and we're talking about how faithful God is, how he has taken such providential care of us. After a discouraging conversation just the night before about down payments and when we'll be able to buy, this seemed like God's serendipitous way of making it all okay, showering blessings on his children. And then it was yanked from our pockets by the grasping hands of the blasted IRS. And I felt let down.
While I told God I was grateful he was taking care of us so that we were getting the right amount and wouldn't be audited later and have to cough up a huge chunk of cash, inside, in a very small, ugly part of me, I felt like God had given us a little gift, and then snatched it back. I felt disappointed.
He knew. He knew I was half-heartedly thanking him for "taking care of us", when in my heart I was mumbling, "if you really wanted to take care of us, you would give us that $16,000 back." He knows what kind of selfish, ungrateful person I am. Such a spoiled brat...turning my nose up at a wonderful gift because it's not the gift I really wanted. Ignoring the fact, that just 20 minutes before we were going to have to pay $6000. It is a wonder God puts up with me at all. I am like Cameron, laying on the ground crying and kicking my legs because I didn't get what I wanted. That doesn't work with me, and it certainly doesn't work with God. Like any parent of a toddler, I am sure he shakes his head at me a little sadly, and wonders when I'll ever learn. It's a miracle he doesn't give me a good swat and stick me in time out.
Yet in the meantime, he continues to love me and take care of me, he dumps bucketfulls of blessings on me, he gently (and sometimes not so gently) teaches me, and he hasn't given up on me...and promises that he won't. And that steadfast love and lesson re-learned is worth more than $16,000 that was never really mine in the first place.
1.) Kevin enters all of our information - income, charitable donations, other financial type stuff I don't understand - and from the living room I hear, "What?!?". This is never a good sound from a husband trying to file taxes. Our friends in the IRS were trying to tell us we owed $6000+ .
2.) Kevin grumbled and frowned at the computer, shuffled papers, and eventually upgraded to the "deluxe" version of TurboTax in order to enter more detailed information. Ah ha...this seemed to fix the problem! After 30 minutes of adding more details, surprise!! We were getting paid $16,000! You can imagine the happiness...we were dreaming of heading out and buying a house that weekend! Fantastic! All has been provided...God is so good! We were giddy.
3.) Then...Kevin notices that some things aren't adding up. He decides to go back and delete and re-enter some information. And we watch our little green number at the top of the screen...the one that tells us how much we're getting back, how much we get to pocket, how much more we have to put down on a house...slowly scroll down, getting smaller and smaller and smaller.
In the end, let's just say while the number never made it into the red, it is significantly less than the $16,000 lottery we thought we had won.
And while it isn't logical, I feel I should confess that I was a little irked with God. Here we were, $16,000 theoretically in our pocket, and we're talking about how faithful God is, how he has taken such providential care of us. After a discouraging conversation just the night before about down payments and when we'll be able to buy, this seemed like God's serendipitous way of making it all okay, showering blessings on his children. And then it was yanked from our pockets by the grasping hands of the blasted IRS. And I felt let down.
While I told God I was grateful he was taking care of us so that we were getting the right amount and wouldn't be audited later and have to cough up a huge chunk of cash, inside, in a very small, ugly part of me, I felt like God had given us a little gift, and then snatched it back. I felt disappointed.
He knew. He knew I was half-heartedly thanking him for "taking care of us", when in my heart I was mumbling, "if you really wanted to take care of us, you would give us that $16,000 back." He knows what kind of selfish, ungrateful person I am. Such a spoiled brat...turning my nose up at a wonderful gift because it's not the gift I really wanted. Ignoring the fact, that just 20 minutes before we were going to have to pay $6000. It is a wonder God puts up with me at all. I am like Cameron, laying on the ground crying and kicking my legs because I didn't get what I wanted. That doesn't work with me, and it certainly doesn't work with God. Like any parent of a toddler, I am sure he shakes his head at me a little sadly, and wonders when I'll ever learn. It's a miracle he doesn't give me a good swat and stick me in time out.
Yet in the meantime, he continues to love me and take care of me, he dumps bucketfulls of blessings on me, he gently (and sometimes not so gently) teaches me, and he hasn't given up on me...and promises that he won't. And that steadfast love and lesson re-learned is worth more than $16,000 that was never really mine in the first place.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Sigh of Relief
I hate to say anything and jinx it, but I think we may finally be done with winter. Shhh!!! I don't even want to type it, for fear it will come roaring back, holing us up in our little apartment again, virtually climbing the walls, desperate for some room to roam.
I have a friend who lives in Texas who is constantly singing the praises of the balmy Texas winter and beauty of the fresh early spring warmth. She waxes poetic about the glories of 70 degree days at the beginning of February, about throwing her windows open and soaking up the fresh air, about the lift to her spirits the spectacular weather brings, about her kids running willy-nilly through the backyard, reborn at the dawn of a new spring. I read all of this while sitting in my apartment, bundled up in a sweater, stuck inside for the (seemingly) 750th sub-freezing day, while Cameron pulls every bowl out of the cupboard, every book off the shelf, every toy out the box, desperate for a change of scenery...and knowing we have weeks, WEEKS left of winter.
And then, today...the birds began to sing, the light began to dawn, the heavens opened up, and upon us miserable Northeasterners a 65 degree day was bestowed. We saw the first tree in Central Park with buds on it...real, green buds that will some day soon (barring another freeze) turn into real, green leaves.
Cameron and I spent nearly 2 hours at the playground. He crawled and climbed all over the playground equipment, slid down the slide 37 times, ate handfuls of sand, and generally was blissfully happy. He probably would have run willy-nilly around the playground if he knew how to run. Let's just say he was crawling with enthusiasm.
I feel like a new person. Like we have survived the endless winter again, and spring is our reward.
I hear Cameron waking up from his nap (man, was that kid exhausted when we got home from the park!). Gotta get back outside and enjoy the rest of the afternoon...'cause who knows how long it will last.
I have a friend who lives in Texas who is constantly singing the praises of the balmy Texas winter and beauty of the fresh early spring warmth. She waxes poetic about the glories of 70 degree days at the beginning of February, about throwing her windows open and soaking up the fresh air, about the lift to her spirits the spectacular weather brings, about her kids running willy-nilly through the backyard, reborn at the dawn of a new spring. I read all of this while sitting in my apartment, bundled up in a sweater, stuck inside for the (seemingly) 750th sub-freezing day, while Cameron pulls every bowl out of the cupboard, every book off the shelf, every toy out the box, desperate for a change of scenery...and knowing we have weeks, WEEKS left of winter.
And then, today...the birds began to sing, the light began to dawn, the heavens opened up, and upon us miserable Northeasterners a 65 degree day was bestowed. We saw the first tree in Central Park with buds on it...real, green buds that will some day soon (barring another freeze) turn into real, green leaves.
Cameron and I spent nearly 2 hours at the playground. He crawled and climbed all over the playground equipment, slid down the slide 37 times, ate handfuls of sand, and generally was blissfully happy. He probably would have run willy-nilly around the playground if he knew how to run. Let's just say he was crawling with enthusiasm.
I feel like a new person. Like we have survived the endless winter again, and spring is our reward.
I hear Cameron waking up from his nap (man, was that kid exhausted when we got home from the park!). Gotta get back outside and enjoy the rest of the afternoon...'cause who knows how long it will last.
Monday, March 23, 2009
If you don't have something nice to say...
And apparently I don't. I haven't so much as looked at this blog since the last post in November. It has fallen way down the list of things I find time to do...somewhere well behind re-roll the toilet paper roll that the Mini has unrolled...again, and empty the towering pile of recycling. I have an epic list of things to accomplish every day (I know...don't we all?), and putting "Update Blog" on the list merely sets me up for failure.
But here I am, with something like an update. And why do I find time now? Kevin is still at work, the Mini is fussing in his bed 30 minutes after bedtime, and I really don't want to do any work. Makes for an inspired writing session.
Cameron turned ONE in January. Though he has only aged one year, is it possible I have aged 3? I think it's gotta be something like dog years. But I will say, 14 months olds are WAY funner than 2 month olds. Yeah...funner. He is a sponge, picking things up at a terrifying rate. He is taking steps all over the place. I'm sure he will be climbing up the walls by next week. Currently, he is trying really hard to grow some more teeth, and teeth have been his nemesis since the first one started bothering him around 6 months (though didn't make an appearance until 8 months).
Please tell me someone else out there has a kid who had teeth struggles. All my mom friends around here say, "really? My kid never seemed to notice he was growing teeth." Is this one of those things moms conveniently forget about 3 weeks after it happens? The sweet Mini has cried, drooled, and painstakingly chewed his way to 5 teeth, with a 6th apparently on the way. They have been battles hard fought. And he has 15 more to go. We are living on Infant Motrin and Orajel (don't judge).
Kevin is still consulting. I am still full-time Momming, part-time assisting, though my boss says she may have to be my assistant before too long. As I'm sure you all know, the to-do list gets longer and longer, and the snippets of available time in which to do it get shorter and shorter. The Mini only slept for 30 minutes this afternoon. This is not enough time to do, well, anything. By the end of the day I am exhausted from entertaining a cranky tooth-growing Mini all day, and still have a dozen things that need to get done, yet inevitably don't.
So do I do them? Do I pour myself a fortifying glass of wine and tackle the pile on my dining room table? Nope...I blog.
On a fun note, we are also house hunting. We have been renters for 9 straight years. We have never owned a single piece of real estate. We are the only people for whom this current housing crisis is an absolute blessing! We will be buying our first home (God willing) without having to sell a home. For those of you who thought that someday we would be leaving this heathen land and returning to God's Country, all I can tell you is, we thought so too. But God, in all his infinite wisdom, gets a good chuckle at all our so-called plans. We are glad we're here to entertain Him.
Anyway, that's all the comings and goings in our lives. All of my nearest and dearest out there in blogland are so faithful to update me, I thought it was time I returned the favor. I make no promises about consistency...all I can say is, I'll do my best.
But here I am, with something like an update. And why do I find time now? Kevin is still at work, the Mini is fussing in his bed 30 minutes after bedtime, and I really don't want to do any work. Makes for an inspired writing session.
Cameron turned ONE in January. Though he has only aged one year, is it possible I have aged 3? I think it's gotta be something like dog years. But I will say, 14 months olds are WAY funner than 2 month olds. Yeah...funner. He is a sponge, picking things up at a terrifying rate. He is taking steps all over the place. I'm sure he will be climbing up the walls by next week. Currently, he is trying really hard to grow some more teeth, and teeth have been his nemesis since the first one started bothering him around 6 months (though didn't make an appearance until 8 months).
Please tell me someone else out there has a kid who had teeth struggles. All my mom friends around here say, "really? My kid never seemed to notice he was growing teeth." Is this one of those things moms conveniently forget about 3 weeks after it happens? The sweet Mini has cried, drooled, and painstakingly chewed his way to 5 teeth, with a 6th apparently on the way. They have been battles hard fought. And he has 15 more to go. We are living on Infant Motrin and Orajel (don't judge).
Kevin is still consulting. I am still full-time Momming, part-time assisting, though my boss says she may have to be my assistant before too long. As I'm sure you all know, the to-do list gets longer and longer, and the snippets of available time in which to do it get shorter and shorter. The Mini only slept for 30 minutes this afternoon. This is not enough time to do, well, anything. By the end of the day I am exhausted from entertaining a cranky tooth-growing Mini all day, and still have a dozen things that need to get done, yet inevitably don't.
So do I do them? Do I pour myself a fortifying glass of wine and tackle the pile on my dining room table? Nope...I blog.
On a fun note, we are also house hunting. We have been renters for 9 straight years. We have never owned a single piece of real estate. We are the only people for whom this current housing crisis is an absolute blessing! We will be buying our first home (God willing) without having to sell a home. For those of you who thought that someday we would be leaving this heathen land and returning to God's Country, all I can tell you is, we thought so too. But God, in all his infinite wisdom, gets a good chuckle at all our so-called plans. We are glad we're here to entertain Him.
Anyway, that's all the comings and goings in our lives. All of my nearest and dearest out there in blogland are so faithful to update me, I thought it was time I returned the favor. I make no promises about consistency...all I can say is, I'll do my best.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
How can the glorious effects of vacation be so short?
I am having one of those days. You know the ones. Where all day long you are seconds from pulling all your hair out by the roots, and then banging your newly-bald head against the nearest wall while chanting "why me? why me? why me?". Yep, that's me. None of the things that are making me crazy are bad on their own...but pile them all together on top of me at once, and they are suffocating.
Why is it that little Minis insist on waking up extra early to practice new skills - like standing up in their cribs? Why is it that bleary-eyed Mommies don't notice that the crib mattress is now entirely too high for standing Minis...until they go to put the Minis down for morning naps? Why is it that sweet, helpful husbands always have meetings on the mornings bleary-eyed Mommies have to lower the crib mattresses, thus leaving the Mommies to attempt this feat while cranky, tired Minis who woke up too early are screaming their tiny brains out in nearby Exersaucers?
Why do overtired Minis insist on only taking 45 minute morning naps on days that Mommies need to look especially cute because they're going to get their passport picture taken - and will have to look at it for 10 years? Why do Mommies think anyone else cares what they look like in their passport pictures? Why do Mommies insist on putting on cute(ish) tops that only make them try to suck in their Mommy-tummies all day long? Why do little Minis insist on wiping their crumby (not crummy) hands all over their Mommies cute(ish) tops before she's even had her passport photo taken?
Why does all of this happen before lunchtime??
Why do Mommies with too many tasks to accomplish and not enough hours in the day think they have time to blog?
Some time in the next decade, if you see my passport, you won't have to ask why I'm bald with a bump on my head and wearing a dumpy sweater. It will all make perfect sense.
Why is it that little Minis insist on waking up extra early to practice new skills - like standing up in their cribs? Why is it that bleary-eyed Mommies don't notice that the crib mattress is now entirely too high for standing Minis...until they go to put the Minis down for morning naps? Why is it that sweet, helpful husbands always have meetings on the mornings bleary-eyed Mommies have to lower the crib mattresses, thus leaving the Mommies to attempt this feat while cranky, tired Minis who woke up too early are screaming their tiny brains out in nearby Exersaucers?
Why do overtired Minis insist on only taking 45 minute morning naps on days that Mommies need to look especially cute because they're going to get their passport picture taken - and will have to look at it for 10 years? Why do Mommies think anyone else cares what they look like in their passport pictures? Why do Mommies insist on putting on cute(ish) tops that only make them try to suck in their Mommy-tummies all day long? Why do little Minis insist on wiping their crumby (not crummy) hands all over their Mommies cute(ish) tops before she's even had her passport photo taken?
Why does all of this happen before lunchtime??
Why do Mommies with too many tasks to accomplish and not enough hours in the day think they have time to blog?
Some time in the next decade, if you see my passport, you won't have to ask why I'm bald with a bump on my head and wearing a dumpy sweater. It will all make perfect sense.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
And they're off...
Take a deep breath, folks...
Kevin and I are off...out, gone, see ya, sayonara...or should I say hasta la vista. Tomorrow, we are lovingly dumping our baby off with the grandparents and we are heading to Cabo. For 5 blissful days we are going to sleep late, act silly, drink a few too many margaritas and eat way too much guacamole. I'm going to stick my feet in the sand, my nose in a book, and no one will hear from me until Monday. I don't want to drink anything unless it has a paper umbrella in it...and that includes my morning coffee. For 5 - count them, 1,2,3,4,5 - days I will have my arms all to myself. My day will not revolve around naps, meals, bottles, more naps, Cheerios, sippy cups, silly songs, rattles, poop, strollers, or drool. I will be a certified adult, doing adult things, having adult conversations about adult topics with other adults.
I am so excited I'm giddy.
Ok, yes, I will probably miss the Mini. In fact, I will probably miss the Mini more than I realize. I mean, good grief, I haven't spent a night away from him since he was born 9 months ago. Heck, I've never spent more than a couple of hours away from him. But, trust me...the kid will hardly know I'm gone. He's going to be living the sweet life with the grandparents...staying up late, eating junk food, watching late night TV. While I am living the sweet life laying in the sun, wearing a sombrero, eating chips and salsa, and sleeping like I did before the Mini came along.
So wave good-bye, we are all off for a vacation. And I feel quite certain that 5 short days - and a few margaritas - will go a long way to making me a better wife and Mommy.
Kevin and I are off...out, gone, see ya, sayonara...or should I say hasta la vista. Tomorrow, we are lovingly dumping our baby off with the grandparents and we are heading to Cabo. For 5 blissful days we are going to sleep late, act silly, drink a few too many margaritas and eat way too much guacamole. I'm going to stick my feet in the sand, my nose in a book, and no one will hear from me until Monday. I don't want to drink anything unless it has a paper umbrella in it...and that includes my morning coffee. For 5 - count them, 1,2,3,4,5 - days I will have my arms all to myself. My day will not revolve around naps, meals, bottles, more naps, Cheerios, sippy cups, silly songs, rattles, poop, strollers, or drool. I will be a certified adult, doing adult things, having adult conversations about adult topics with other adults.
I am so excited I'm giddy.
Ok, yes, I will probably miss the Mini. In fact, I will probably miss the Mini more than I realize. I mean, good grief, I haven't spent a night away from him since he was born 9 months ago. Heck, I've never spent more than a couple of hours away from him. But, trust me...the kid will hardly know I'm gone. He's going to be living the sweet life with the grandparents...staying up late, eating junk food, watching late night TV. While I am living the sweet life laying in the sun, wearing a sombrero, eating chips and salsa, and sleeping like I did before the Mini came along.
So wave good-bye, we are all off for a vacation. And I feel quite certain that 5 short days - and a few margaritas - will go a long way to making me a better wife and Mommy.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Back off my kid!
If you've seen photos of my child, you know that he is quite a guy. We laugh about him being a "chunky monkey", and this was well before his Halloween costume. Yes, he is on the upper end of the scale when it comes to those "all-important" baby percentages. And there is not a day that goes by that someone - typically some random stranger - doesn't comment on how big he is:
Truly, it's enough to give Mommy a serious complex.
So, I was in a children's clothing store yesterday waiting in line to purchase a winter hat for Cameron, and another mother says to me, "He sure is a big kid, isn't he?"
Really, how am I supposed to respond to that?
Other mother: "Wow, he's like in the 100th percentile, isn't he?"
Me: "Um...well, yes, he is in a higher percentage."
OM: "What is he, like 4 months old?"
Me: (huh?!?) "No, he's 9 months old."
OM: "Oh...huh. Well, (here it comes) how much does he weigh?"
Me: "I don't know...20-21 pounds."
OM: "Oh. My daughter is 8 months old."
Me: "Really? And how much does she weigh?"
OM: "Um...16 pounds." I think at this point she's starting to realize she's being a bit rude. "I just meant he looked really tall for his age."
Me: "Uh huh."
Look, sister, back up off my kid. He could pancake your 16 pound pipsqueak without even breaking a sweat.
Come on, mothers of the world! We need to stick together here. We all know what it's like to have perfect strangers ask us all kinds of inappropriate questions! As soon as you get pregnant, suddenly you're fair game:
"Wow! He's a big guy! How old is he?"
"Well, he's certainly a good eater, huh?"
"Ooh, you're a big boy, aren't you?"
"Is he crawling yet? Well he'll thin out when he gets more active."
"You need to get that kid on a running program." (From a college friend upon meeting Cameron.)
And the ever-popular, always inappropriate,
"How much does he weigh?"
"Well, he's certainly a good eater, huh?"
"Ooh, you're a big boy, aren't you?"
"Is he crawling yet? Well he'll thin out when he gets more active."
"You need to get that kid on a running program." (From a college friend upon meeting Cameron.)
And the ever-popular, always inappropriate,
"How much does he weigh?"
Truly, it's enough to give Mommy a serious complex.
So, I was in a children's clothing store yesterday waiting in line to purchase a winter hat for Cameron, and another mother says to me, "He sure is a big kid, isn't he?"
Really, how am I supposed to respond to that?
Other mother: "Wow, he's like in the 100th percentile, isn't he?"
Me: "Um...well, yes, he is in a higher percentage."
OM: "What is he, like 4 months old?"
Me: (huh?!?) "No, he's 9 months old."
OM: "Oh...huh. Well, (here it comes) how much does he weigh?"
Me: "I don't know...20-21 pounds."
OM: "Oh. My daughter is 8 months old."
Me: "Really? And how much does she weigh?"
OM: "Um...16 pounds." I think at this point she's starting to realize she's being a bit rude. "I just meant he looked really tall for his age."
Me: "Uh huh."
Look, sister, back up off my kid. He could pancake your 16 pound pipsqueak without even breaking a sweat.
Come on, mothers of the world! We need to stick together here. We all know what it's like to have perfect strangers ask us all kinds of inappropriate questions! As soon as you get pregnant, suddenly you're fair game:
"How much weight have you gained?"
"Are you going to breastfeed? For how long?"
"Are you going to co-sleep?"
"You're using disposable diapers?"
Is any of this anyone's business but those with whom I choose to share it? This is between me, my husband, and my OB/GYN.
"Are you going to breastfeed? For how long?"
"Are you going to co-sleep?"
"You're using disposable diapers?"
Is any of this anyone's business but those with whom I choose to share it? This is between me, my husband, and my OB/GYN.
And it just keeps going from there. Motherhood...the great barrier breaker. Suddenly any topic is fair game, whether you know the person or not. So, come on moms...when you see another harried mother just trying to buy her baby boy a dang winter hat, think twice before you smugly express your astonishment about how big her sweet baby is and asking what percentile he's in. Hey, she may not thank you...but at least she won't write about you later on her blog.
Monday, October 13, 2008
MIA
Clearly life as I know it does not include blogging. Disgraceful, I know. And even more pathetic when I realize that all of my friends with multiple children blog regularly...and here I am with one little Mini, and I haven't posted anything since July. And even that was mostly a cop out. You'd think with 2-3 naps a day and a 6:30pm bedtime I could sit down and write something.
So here's something.
Life is rolling right along at a pretty regular pace. Cameron will be 9 months old this week. Really?? He's army crawling his way around the house. I've threatened to strap a Swiffer cloth to his chest so he can clean my floors. Yeah, start earning your keep, kid. The bad part is when he finds dust bunnies, and tries to eat them. Yech... Speaking of eating, he now simply tolerates his baby food. What he really wants is Cheerios, cheese toast, bananas, Gerber Puffs...basically anything he can eat on his own. It's amazing how many Cheerios this little man can pack in his mouth.
Kevin is all done with his MBA...hallelujah!! He finished in August, and is now home every single night. No more class until 9pm. It's wonderful. And, since Cameron goes to sleep every night by 6:30pm, we have our nights to ourselves.
Me, I'm picking up more hours as a personal assistant, and generally figuring out how to juggle the 7 million things I want/need to accomplish each day. I find it rather astounding that I can run around like a crazy person all day, then collapse on the couch at 6:31pm and feel like I have completed nothing. And again, with only one child. How do you people do it? There are definitely moments when I think, yeah, one kiddo is plenty. We're at this great stage where he sleeps 12-13 hours a night, can often entertain himself for short stretches, takes great naps, is happy and fun and pretty hilarious...why do I want to go screw all that up by having another baby?? Plus, since there's simply no way I could even consider loving another kid as much as I love Cameron, wouldn't that just be cruel?
Ok, ok...I know...all you veteren moms out there will assure me that you do love your subsequent children (almost) as much as you love your first. And I believe you...really. Sometimes it's just hard to imagine.
Anyway, that's us in a nutshell...a quick little catch up. We a currently enjoying a lazy Sunday, and are looking forward to dressing Cameron up in his Halloween costume for the Fall Festival at church this afternoon. Oh yeah, pictures will be forthcoming.
Hope everyone is having a wonderful autumn weekend!
So here's something.
Life is rolling right along at a pretty regular pace. Cameron will be 9 months old this week. Really?? He's army crawling his way around the house. I've threatened to strap a Swiffer cloth to his chest so he can clean my floors. Yeah, start earning your keep, kid. The bad part is when he finds dust bunnies, and tries to eat them. Yech... Speaking of eating, he now simply tolerates his baby food. What he really wants is Cheerios, cheese toast, bananas, Gerber Puffs...basically anything he can eat on his own. It's amazing how many Cheerios this little man can pack in his mouth.
Kevin is all done with his MBA...hallelujah!! He finished in August, and is now home every single night. No more class until 9pm. It's wonderful. And, since Cameron goes to sleep every night by 6:30pm, we have our nights to ourselves.
Me, I'm picking up more hours as a personal assistant, and generally figuring out how to juggle the 7 million things I want/need to accomplish each day. I find it rather astounding that I can run around like a crazy person all day, then collapse on the couch at 6:31pm and feel like I have completed nothing. And again, with only one child. How do you people do it? There are definitely moments when I think, yeah, one kiddo is plenty. We're at this great stage where he sleeps 12-13 hours a night, can often entertain himself for short stretches, takes great naps, is happy and fun and pretty hilarious...why do I want to go screw all that up by having another baby?? Plus, since there's simply no way I could even consider loving another kid as much as I love Cameron, wouldn't that just be cruel?
Ok, ok...I know...all you veteren moms out there will assure me that you do love your subsequent children (almost) as much as you love your first. And I believe you...really. Sometimes it's just hard to imagine.
Anyway, that's us in a nutshell...a quick little catch up. We a currently enjoying a lazy Sunday, and are looking forward to dressing Cameron up in his Halloween costume for the Fall Festival at church this afternoon. Oh yeah, pictures will be forthcoming.
Hope everyone is having a wonderful autumn weekend!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Bookworms Unite!
The National Endowment for the Arts has an initiative called the Big Read. According to the Web site, its purpose is to "restore reading to the center of American culture." They estimate that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed. Jeez! I originally found this list on my friend Jill's blog. I've read 34 of these. Take a look and let me know which ones you've read and loved.
Here's what you do:
1) Look at the list and bold those you have read. (My bold doesn't show up very well, so the ones I've read are in light pink.)
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) [Bracket] the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list on your own blog (if you feel so inclined).
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 [Jane Eyre] - Charlotte Bronte
4 [Harry Potter series] - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 [The Bible]
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 [Little Women] - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 [Rebecca] - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 [Gone With The Wind] - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 [Chronicles of Narnia] - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 [The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe]- CS Lewis
37 [The Kite Runner] - Khaled Hosseini
38 [Captain Corelli's Mandolin] - Louis De Bernieres
39 [Memoirs of a Geisha] - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 [The Da Vinci Code] - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 [Anne of Green Gables] - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 [Charlotte's Web] - EB White
88 [The Five People You Meet In Heaven] - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
Here's what you do:
1) Look at the list and bold those you have read. (My bold doesn't show up very well, so the ones I've read are in light pink.)
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) [Bracket] the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list on your own blog (if you feel so inclined).
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 [Jane Eyre] - Charlotte Bronte
4 [Harry Potter series] - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 [The Bible]
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 [Little Women] - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 [Rebecca] - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 [Gone With The Wind] - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 [Chronicles of Narnia] - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 [The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe]- CS Lewis
37 [The Kite Runner] - Khaled Hosseini
38 [Captain Corelli's Mandolin] - Louis De Bernieres
39 [Memoirs of a Geisha] - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 [The Da Vinci Code] - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 [Anne of Green Gables] - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 [Charlotte's Web] - EB White
88 [The Five People You Meet In Heaven] - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Who knew?
Today Kevin, Cameron and I went to visit some friends here in the city who just had their first baby. Their little guy was born a week ago today, so we dropped by to take them food (take out gets old real quick), and meet the new little guy. Baby William was such a sweet little bundle. The thing that absolutely blew our minds was the fact that he was 7lbs, 12oz when he was born, and is nearly that now. He looked so tiny! Particularly held up next to our little Chunky Monkey, who started out 6lbs, 2oz and is now pushing 20lbs and eating solid food!
How is it possible that that was only 6 months ago? Everyone always said, "Oh, it goes so fast!" I can tell you right now, when you're a brand new mom who is only sleeping in 2 hour stretches at a time, showers about twice a week, and can hardly remember her own name, much less what day of the week it is, all you want to say to these people is, "Bull..." well, you know what I mean.
But then suddenly one day you look around and you are sleeping in rather long stretches at night, if not all night long. You shower daily, actually put on make-up and are potentially wearing clothes that are starting to resemble the things you wore before you gained (cough, cough) pounds. You have a little person who has gone from a bundle of nerves to a bundle of personality. And it has only been 6 months! I remember wondering if I would survive 6 weeks...6 months might as well have been the moon.
So, I tell my friend the new mom, "Oh, it goes so fast!" And I know exactly what she's thinking. And when I hold her sweet little 7lb, 12oz baby I think, "I wouldn't go back to being a first time mom with a 1 week old for a million dollars." Then Kevin and I leave with our little Mini, who isn't quite as mini as he used to be, and I think about how far we 3 have come in only 6 months. How different all 3 of us are. He is certainly not the Itty Bitty we brought home from the hospital half a year ago...and neither am I the same person that carried him out of the hospital that day.
I knew that babies changed so unbelievably, so dramatically in that first year of life. Who knew that Mommies and Daddies changed so much, too?
How is it possible that that was only 6 months ago? Everyone always said, "Oh, it goes so fast!" I can tell you right now, when you're a brand new mom who is only sleeping in 2 hour stretches at a time, showers about twice a week, and can hardly remember her own name, much less what day of the week it is, all you want to say to these people is, "Bull..." well, you know what I mean.
But then suddenly one day you look around and you are sleeping in rather long stretches at night, if not all night long. You shower daily, actually put on make-up and are potentially wearing clothes that are starting to resemble the things you wore before you gained (cough, cough) pounds. You have a little person who has gone from a bundle of nerves to a bundle of personality. And it has only been 6 months! I remember wondering if I would survive 6 weeks...6 months might as well have been the moon.
So, I tell my friend the new mom, "Oh, it goes so fast!" And I know exactly what she's thinking. And when I hold her sweet little 7lb, 12oz baby I think, "I wouldn't go back to being a first time mom with a 1 week old for a million dollars." Then Kevin and I leave with our little Mini, who isn't quite as mini as he used to be, and I think about how far we 3 have come in only 6 months. How different all 3 of us are. He is certainly not the Itty Bitty we brought home from the hospital half a year ago...and neither am I the same person that carried him out of the hospital that day.
I knew that babies changed so unbelievably, so dramatically in that first year of life. Who knew that Mommies and Daddies changed so much, too?
Thursday, June 05, 2008
This is my life right now...
Prayer
By Marie Howe
Every day I want to speak with you. And every day something more important
calls for my attention -- the drugstore, the beauty products, the luggage.
I need to buy for the trip.
Even now I can hardly sit here
among the falling piles of paper and clothing, the garbage trucks outside
already screeching and banging.
The mystics say you are as close as my own breath.
Why do I flee from you?
My days and nights pour through me like complaints
and become a story I forgot to tell.
Help me. Even as I write these words I am planning
to rise from the chair as soon as I finish this sentence.
By Marie Howe
Every day I want to speak with you. And every day something more important
calls for my attention -- the drugstore, the beauty products, the luggage.
I need to buy for the trip.
Even now I can hardly sit here
among the falling piles of paper and clothing, the garbage trucks outside
already screeching and banging.
The mystics say you are as close as my own breath.
Why do I flee from you?
My days and nights pour through me like complaints
and become a story I forgot to tell.
Help me. Even as I write these words I am planning
to rise from the chair as soon as I finish this sentence.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Yes, we're those people...
We just returned yesterday from a week in Texas introducing Cameron to all his family -- both by blood and of the heart. It was a wonderful and tiring trip. Poor punkin' spent the majority of the week absolutely beside himself with exhaustion. Life is hard when you're 10 weeks old.
Mini's usual schedule is to wake up, eat, have a little play time, and then go back to bed. This routine rarely lasts more then an hour. At the end of an hour he is yawning and staring...clear signs that he is ready to be swaddled up and rocked back to dreamland. Well, that's not exactly how it works when you're flying 4 hours on a plane, or spending time with grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts and uncles, "aunts and uncles", cousins, friends, etc., etc. Both Saturday and Sunday he was so tired from being up meeting people, he could hardly get himself back to sleep. Talk about break Mommy's heart.
The other thing that broke Mommy's heart was that for a week before we got there he was basically sleeping through the night...eating at 11pm-ish and not waking up until 6am or 7am-ish. Talk about HEAVEN for the sleep deprived Mommy. Sadly, it didn't last, and now we're back to waking up halfway through the night to eat. Sigh. I can't decide if I'm hopeful because I know he CAN do it, or frustrated because I know he CAN do it, and won't. Oh well, 1 step forward, 2 steps back.
This trip marked Cameron's first airplane trip, and I finally knew what it felt like to be "those people". You know the ones...with the crying child on the airplane. To be fair, he did really well. On the flight to Dallas (which was just him and me), he got really upset just before we took off. He wasn't the only one, as we were stuck on the plane for over an hour after they shut down the airport because 4 F16's were flying over Shea Stadium to mark Opening Day for the Mets. Can I just say it is not easy to try to nurse a crying, squirming baby in a ultra-narrow airplane seat, sitting next to a perfect stranger (older gentleman who was pretending we weren't there), surrounded by all our stuff (diaper bag, jacket, scarf, baby carrier, nursing cover, burp cloths, et al.). This happened twice during the flight.
On the way home, Kevin was with us, and he only got upset once, again right before we took off. I had already fed him, but he wouldn't stop crying. You could practically hear the people around us rolling their eyes, sighing, and shifting around in their seats, imagining that my son was going to cry the entire 3.5 hour trip. We were doing everything we could to soothe him. The lady behind us started offering advice. I wanted to turn around and say, "here, since you know what to do, you take him."
He finally settled down, and then slept the whole way home. But those few uncomfortable minutes felt like hours as we're trying to stop the crying, and imagining the glares of the entire plane on our sweet, yet overtired baby boy.
Ever been there?
All around, a good trip...but it is absolutely GLORIOUS to be home.
Mini's usual schedule is to wake up, eat, have a little play time, and then go back to bed. This routine rarely lasts more then an hour. At the end of an hour he is yawning and staring...clear signs that he is ready to be swaddled up and rocked back to dreamland. Well, that's not exactly how it works when you're flying 4 hours on a plane, or spending time with grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts and uncles, "aunts and uncles", cousins, friends, etc., etc. Both Saturday and Sunday he was so tired from being up meeting people, he could hardly get himself back to sleep. Talk about break Mommy's heart.
The other thing that broke Mommy's heart was that for a week before we got there he was basically sleeping through the night...eating at 11pm-ish and not waking up until 6am or 7am-ish. Talk about HEAVEN for the sleep deprived Mommy. Sadly, it didn't last, and now we're back to waking up halfway through the night to eat. Sigh. I can't decide if I'm hopeful because I know he CAN do it, or frustrated because I know he CAN do it, and won't. Oh well, 1 step forward, 2 steps back.
This trip marked Cameron's first airplane trip, and I finally knew what it felt like to be "those people". You know the ones...with the crying child on the airplane. To be fair, he did really well. On the flight to Dallas (which was just him and me), he got really upset just before we took off. He wasn't the only one, as we were stuck on the plane for over an hour after they shut down the airport because 4 F16's were flying over Shea Stadium to mark Opening Day for the Mets. Can I just say it is not easy to try to nurse a crying, squirming baby in a ultra-narrow airplane seat, sitting next to a perfect stranger (older gentleman who was pretending we weren't there), surrounded by all our stuff (diaper bag, jacket, scarf, baby carrier, nursing cover, burp cloths, et al.). This happened twice during the flight.
On the way home, Kevin was with us, and he only got upset once, again right before we took off. I had already fed him, but he wouldn't stop crying. You could practically hear the people around us rolling their eyes, sighing, and shifting around in their seats, imagining that my son was going to cry the entire 3.5 hour trip. We were doing everything we could to soothe him. The lady behind us started offering advice. I wanted to turn around and say, "here, since you know what to do, you take him."
He finally settled down, and then slept the whole way home. But those few uncomfortable minutes felt like hours as we're trying to stop the crying, and imagining the glares of the entire plane on our sweet, yet overtired baby boy.
Ever been there?
All around, a good trip...but it is absolutely GLORIOUS to be home.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
The Post-Maternity Wardrobe, or How is it Possible that Nothing I Own Fits Me?
I have the post-maternity blues. I'm not talking about Postpartum Depression, thankfully. Or even the slightly less serious condition with the undeservedly cute name, Baby Blues. Trust me, the blues you feel post-baby are not "baby" in size...it can feel pretty stinkin' overwhelming.
No, the blues I'm currently talking about is the post-maternity wardrobe blues. The realization that absolutely nothing you own fits. No single piece of clothing in your wardrobe fits your transition body. My pregnancy clothes are blessedly too big. And even if they do fit (let's hear it for drawstring waists!), I'm sick to death of wearing them. On the other hand, I'm not nearly back in my normal clothes yet. My body is strangely out of proportion from the way it used to be.
Oh sure, I got the 6 week "go-ahead" from my doctor. You know, the "you're-fully-recovered-from-your-surgery-and-can-start-exercising-again" go-ahead. Did anyone else feel like laughing in your doctor's face when she said that? I'm sorry, there are times when if given the choice between sleeping and doing absolutely anything else on the planet, including winning the lottery or meeting Hugh Jackman, I will choose sleep without even thinking twice. Yeah, exercising doesn't even make my top ten list.
So, it's really no wonder that nothing I own fits me...but it's still supremely annoying. Even shirts that fit fine everywhere else, now look a little...um...okay, a lot trashy with my newly inflated nursing figure. Yep, The Girls are currently of a size that many people pay good money to get.
However, it is against my religion to go out and buy clothes for my transitional state. I did give in and buy a pair of jeans a few simple shirts from Old Navy...always affordable. I hated doing it, but not nearly as much as I hate not having anything that fits right.
Oh well, such is life after having a baby. I just needed a chance to vent about it to people who would know the feeling and share in my annoyance. Here's wishing you all beautiful spring weather, restful sleep and jeans that fit.
No, the blues I'm currently talking about is the post-maternity wardrobe blues. The realization that absolutely nothing you own fits. No single piece of clothing in your wardrobe fits your transition body. My pregnancy clothes are blessedly too big. And even if they do fit (let's hear it for drawstring waists!), I'm sick to death of wearing them. On the other hand, I'm not nearly back in my normal clothes yet. My body is strangely out of proportion from the way it used to be.
Oh sure, I got the 6 week "go-ahead" from my doctor. You know, the "you're-fully-recovered-from-your-surgery-and-can-start-exercising-again" go-ahead. Did anyone else feel like laughing in your doctor's face when she said that? I'm sorry, there are times when if given the choice between sleeping and doing absolutely anything else on the planet, including winning the lottery or meeting Hugh Jackman, I will choose sleep without even thinking twice. Yeah, exercising doesn't even make my top ten list.
So, it's really no wonder that nothing I own fits me...but it's still supremely annoying. Even shirts that fit fine everywhere else, now look a little...um...okay, a lot trashy with my newly inflated nursing figure. Yep, The Girls are currently of a size that many people pay good money to get.
However, it is against my religion to go out and buy clothes for my transitional state. I did give in and buy a pair of jeans a few simple shirts from Old Navy...always affordable. I hated doing it, but not nearly as much as I hate not having anything that fits right.
Oh well, such is life after having a baby. I just needed a chance to vent about it to people who would know the feeling and share in my annoyance. Here's wishing you all beautiful spring weather, restful sleep and jeans that fit.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Little Piece of Heaven
Cameron has been going through this new phase for the past week. He's pretty predictable...Kevin calls him Clockwork Orange. He wakes up, I feed him, change his diaper, re-swaddle him, and then he's ready to go back to sleep. It takes about 10-15 minutes to rock him back to sleep, and then he's down for about 3 hours. So we're on a rotating 4 hour schedule. Not too bad. To make things better, he's started sleeping a little longer at night, which is wonderful.
The not so wonderful new development is he has started refusing to go to sleep in the evening. So he and I do this routine all day, then at his early evening feeding (sometime between 6pm and 8pm) we feed him, change him, swaddle him up and then he stares at us for the next 3 hours. No amount of rocking will lull him to sleep. But he's tired... if we try to play with him he gets all cranky. He just lays on a pillow, swaddled like a little bundle, sucking on his pacifier, staring. He'll occasionally doze off, but if we try to lay him down in his crib he wakes up crying and it only escalates until we pick him up and return him to the pillow on the couch where he continues staring. This continues until we hit the magical 4 hour mark, at which point he cries to eat...then we feed him, bathe him, swaddle him, and then he goes to bed. He'll often wake up about 15 minutes later crying, but once he goes down after that, he's out.
Okay, that was much more long winded then I intended.
ANYWAY, last night we did this same new little routine starting at 10:45 p.m. -- feeding, bath, pj's, swaddle, one little wake up, and then he was out. He woke up to eat at 4:30 a.m. and then again at 9:30 a.m. Pretty dang good!
After the 9:30 a.m. feeding, Kevin took him to rock him back to sleep, and I crashed back out. Ok, here comes the good part...the whole reason I started this embarrassingly long winded post. At about 11:30 a.m. Kevin comes back in and wakes me up with breakfast in bed!! He brought me a huge plate of pancakes and cold glass of milk. I got to lay in bed, eat pancakes, and read a magazine for 45 minutes. It was bliss! Then, to make things better, when I got up to shower, Kevin had separated the laundry (which he has since taken down to the wash), cleaned up the kitchen, and picked up the living room.
Ahh...it makes me happy again just thinking about it.
Well, just wanted to brag on my fantastically thoughtful husband. Also, if anyone out there has any thoughts about Cameron's little little sleeping strike, let me know.
The not so wonderful new development is he has started refusing to go to sleep in the evening. So he and I do this routine all day, then at his early evening feeding (sometime between 6pm and 8pm) we feed him, change him, swaddle him up and then he stares at us for the next 3 hours. No amount of rocking will lull him to sleep. But he's tired... if we try to play with him he gets all cranky. He just lays on a pillow, swaddled like a little bundle, sucking on his pacifier, staring. He'll occasionally doze off, but if we try to lay him down in his crib he wakes up crying and it only escalates until we pick him up and return him to the pillow on the couch where he continues staring. This continues until we hit the magical 4 hour mark, at which point he cries to eat...then we feed him, bathe him, swaddle him, and then he goes to bed. He'll often wake up about 15 minutes later crying, but once he goes down after that, he's out.
Okay, that was much more long winded then I intended.
ANYWAY, last night we did this same new little routine starting at 10:45 p.m. -- feeding, bath, pj's, swaddle, one little wake up, and then he was out. He woke up to eat at 4:30 a.m. and then again at 9:30 a.m. Pretty dang good!
After the 9:30 a.m. feeding, Kevin took him to rock him back to sleep, and I crashed back out. Ok, here comes the good part...the whole reason I started this embarrassingly long winded post. At about 11:30 a.m. Kevin comes back in and wakes me up with breakfast in bed!! He brought me a huge plate of pancakes and cold glass of milk. I got to lay in bed, eat pancakes, and read a magazine for 45 minutes. It was bliss! Then, to make things better, when I got up to shower, Kevin had separated the laundry (which he has since taken down to the wash), cleaned up the kitchen, and picked up the living room.
Ahh...it makes me happy again just thinking about it.
Well, just wanted to brag on my fantastically thoughtful husband. Also, if anyone out there has any thoughts about Cameron's little little sleeping strike, let me know.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Who am I?
Well, after a 2 month hiatus, I figured it was time to write again. Little Cameron turned 7 weeks old on Wednesday. Sometimes I feel like we just brought him home from the hospital. And other times I feel like it has been the longest 7 weeks of my entire life. I am amazed that I love this Little Man so much...and yet sometimes want to throw him out the window. I can't imagine life without him...yet sometimes miss the ease of our old life so much it makes me want to cry. I sit in our living room feeding him at 4:00 a.m. and wonder if I'll ever have a full night of sleep again in this lifetime. Yet I know that before long he won't let me rock him to sleep anymore. The most sleep I get at any one time is 3 hours...and I have only been out of the house without him 3 times in the last 7 weeks. I'm tired.
My house is a disaster. The laundry is about to take over the living room. I have dust bunnies bigger then Cameron. Days pass before I find time to call people back or respond to email. My once impeccably organized life is in complete disarray. I am reduced to considering a day that includes a shower and some make-up a success. I hardly recognize myself or my life. Who am I and how exactly did I get here?
This is, without a doubt, the hardest thing I've ever done.
But could he be any more beautiful? Could he smell any sweeter? I love kissing his little neck, and his crooked little toes. I love the hilariously adorable little frowny face he makes right before he starts crying. I live for bathtime, watching him suck air through pursed lips as we lower him into the warm water, and then relax as he remembers how much he loves the bath. I can hardly wait for that first smile that will suddenly make so many late nights worth it. I love sitting here on the couch right now and looking over at Kevin, feet propped up on the coffee table watching basketball, Cameron swaddled up like a little bundle asleep (finally!) on his chest. I fall in love with my husband over and over again every day.
Through it all -- the sleepless nights and erractic schedule; the interrupted meals and sore back; the fatigue and frustration; the days of being sucked on, spit up on, peed on, sneezed on, and generally covered with baby yuck; the feeling that I hardly recognize myself -- I am overwhelmingly grateful for this Little One's presence in our lives. He is a miracle. I pray that I never forget that.
My house is a disaster. The laundry is about to take over the living room. I have dust bunnies bigger then Cameron. Days pass before I find time to call people back or respond to email. My once impeccably organized life is in complete disarray. I am reduced to considering a day that includes a shower and some make-up a success. I hardly recognize myself or my life. Who am I and how exactly did I get here?
This is, without a doubt, the hardest thing I've ever done.
But could he be any more beautiful? Could he smell any sweeter? I love kissing his little neck, and his crooked little toes. I love the hilariously adorable little frowny face he makes right before he starts crying. I live for bathtime, watching him suck air through pursed lips as we lower him into the warm water, and then relax as he remembers how much he loves the bath. I can hardly wait for that first smile that will suddenly make so many late nights worth it. I love sitting here on the couch right now and looking over at Kevin, feet propped up on the coffee table watching basketball, Cameron swaddled up like a little bundle asleep (finally!) on his chest. I fall in love with my husband over and over again every day.
Through it all -- the sleepless nights and erractic schedule; the interrupted meals and sore back; the fatigue and frustration; the days of being sucked on, spit up on, peed on, sneezed on, and generally covered with baby yuck; the feeling that I hardly recognize myself -- I am overwhelmingly grateful for this Little One's presence in our lives. He is a miracle. I pray that I never forget that.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
What's new?
Hey everyone! Well, it has been awhile since I've posted anything. Disgraceful, I know. We are doing well, and just kind of sitting in a holding pattern waiting for the Littlest to make it's grand debut!
We had a fantastic Christmas here in New York with just the two of us. It was fun to celebrate our last year as a family of 2 in our home. Since then we've celebrated our 8 year wedding anniversary and also had a fantastic couples shower with some of our dearest friends. (I hope to have some pics to post soon.)
Most recently, though, we had a dramatic weekend attempting to flip this contrary little munchkin over on its head...the proper position for birth. For all the latest news, check out our Baby Blog!
As this is the most exciting thing we've had going on recently, I'll leave it at that. I'll try to post something else interesting here...but at this point in our lives, the most interesting stuff is probably going on at the baby site!
We had a fantastic Christmas here in New York with just the two of us. It was fun to celebrate our last year as a family of 2 in our home. Since then we've celebrated our 8 year wedding anniversary and also had a fantastic couples shower with some of our dearest friends. (I hope to have some pics to post soon.)
Most recently, though, we had a dramatic weekend attempting to flip this contrary little munchkin over on its head...the proper position for birth. For all the latest news, check out our Baby Blog!
As this is the most exciting thing we've had going on recently, I'll leave it at that. I'll try to post something else interesting here...but at this point in our lives, the most interesting stuff is probably going on at the baby site!
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