All I want for Christmas is nothing

It has been quite a busy couple of months for us. Sean and I finally tied the knot (that's right, you can respect me now-we are no longer living in sin), Kelan turned 2 (2!), and we took our house off of the market.

I write this at the risk of making you gag, but the truth is, I can't think of one gift that I'm really hoping for on Christmas this year. I feel fulfilled.

Merry Christmas!

The good part

Everyone knows that it is an amazing feeling to rock a newborn to sleep and that nothing smells better than a baby fresh out of a bath. It goes without saying that as a parent, every age has nuances that you will miss someday. It goes without saying, but I said it anyway because I don't want you to think I'm a bad mom when I say that I am totally getting to the good part.

You know, the part where you can really start to enjoy the fruits of your labor (pun absolutely intended). Like how you spent hours talking to a baby who just looked at you with a blank face, or that smile that even you knew was patronizing and you imagined your baby thinking "oh that's so sweet, she's talking to me. I'll just smile to make her feel better because she really is spending a lot of time, and she might as well be speaking German." You kept reading 'Goodnight Moon' to a three month old even though you felt a little silly, because you just knew that someday he would be stalling at bedtime saying "Moon book again mommy?" Well that day has come, and I am in parenting heaven.

I imagine that it has a little something to do with having been raised by a teacher and lover of the communication arts, but I can not get enough of this kid's vocabulary. I love that he can tell me what he wants (it really saves me a lot of time in wrong guesses). I love that he asks me questions, and tells me about the things he finds exciting (usually bugs and puddles, but I'll take it), and I especially love hearing "good morning!" when I get him out of bed.

Stay at home parenting is a job without performance reviews (well unless you count your significant other waking you up to say he has no clean socks and adds oh-so-cutely "you're fired") and I am a person that thrives on seeing my hard work come to fruition. So yes, I know that it is about the journey, but once in awhile it's nice to hear "Thank you mommy." Sometimes it's just what I needed to hear.

This is why I procreated. OK , this and a couple of other reasons.

I fell in love with the Yoda costume the second I laid eyes on it, it was just to cute and weird to pass up.

Kelan last year on Halloween

He enjoyed helping give candy away almost as much as he enjoyed walking up to houses and saying "bye" instead of "trick or treat"

Seriously, it is going to be a sad day for me when he picks out his own costume, but it will be nice when he decides to hoard his candy- those peanut butter cups keep calling my name.

He's going to be an awesome big brother

Well it looks like someone's ready for baby number two- Sean and I, not so much. Sorry kid, it's going to be awhile.

The life lessons just keep coming

"Vacation" is another word that takes on an entirely different definition once you have a child. Before you have kids, vacation means "a relaxing trip away from home." After you have kids, vacation means "A nerve-wracking car/plane ride to yet another place where you will have to make sure your child doesn't seriously injure himself, others, or property. Oh, and if he does happen to mistake that decorative ostrich egg for a ball, promptly super glue it back together and pray that the owner never finds out."

So yeah, this year there was a little less reading by the water and a little more making sure kid doesn't drown in said water, but it was fun nonetheless. At least with a kid there are more photo ops.

Why I probably still have that book you lent me

Netflix's business model is ingenious. Sean and I joke that we are their favorite type of customer; the kind that gets excited enough about it to sign up for Three movies unlimited!, and then keeps those same three movies for almost a year. At some point we just need to accept that if we haven't watched Running with Scissors yet, we probably won't get around to it any time soon - but I'm getting off topic.

In an effort to not feel like I am throwing twelve dollars a month out the window, I decided to peruse their new releases and spice up the queue. I came across a romantic comedy called He's Just Not That Into You. It looked like a OK rental. Then I saw that it was based on a book. Well, I have to read the book before I watch the movie I told myself. When I went to the library to pick up the book, I was surprised to discover that it was actually a non-fiction dating self help book. Huh, I thought.

To make a long story unnecessarily long, I have this personal rule that I have to finish every book that I start (insert bible joke here). He's Just Not That Into You is a rather short book, but was actually pretty hard to get through. First of all, while I was reading it, all I could think about is how depressing this movie is going to be. It's basically a description of the million ways you can tell that the guy you like doesn't like you back. Secondly, reading the book made me realize apparently there have been a number of guys who were just not that "into me" (who wants to think about that?) and lastly, it appeared that even the writers were not super-confident in the probability of ever finding a guy that is "into you". Really, if I were single, reading this book would probably have sent me to the pet store to buy a plethora of cats.

So here we are, two weeks later. We still haven't watched Running with Scissors, but I just came across a new release called Marley and Me...

Square one and such

So, the sale fell through. I was devastated on Friday, because Thursday we had found a place, but now I've settled into mild disappointment. I guess what it comes down to is that I can't justify mourning an apartment we never actually had. Even if it was so close we could taste it...

Sometimes this whole house sale thing feels like that nightmare where you really need to get somewhere and for whatever reason you are moving in slow motion. Usually when I have that nightmare, I am in a pet store and somehow all of the fish have gotten out of the tanks. They are all flopping around on the floor and I have to help them get back into the water except all I have is a metal spatula. Then I look down and I am wearing these really big heavy boots and I have to also try not to step on the fish.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that we need to sell this house, so that I can take these boots off.

Sean is learning how to start a fire in a garbage can, just in case

I'm not really fluent in realtor speak, but I'm pretty sure hearing that the buyers are "just dragging their feet a bit" in terms of getting info to their lender is not a positive thing. Hearing that they are "still getting their ducks in a row" with 31 days until closing also does not instill a lot of confidence.

We were flat out told not to sign a lease "quite yet" and I am more than hesitant to pack a single box, but really-- crazy me, I'm starting to have this nagging where the heck are we going to live next month if this sale does go through? voice in my head.

So this is where I'm at... pretending that it isn't happening. House, what house? ahhh that feels better.

I'm more than positive that the buyers are living their lives and simply have no idea what it is like to be in limbo with a toddler and a house full of things that may have no place to go in a month. I'm certain that they have no idea that we would like to either secure a place to go, or keep showing the house to others. They can have no way of knowing that we are going on vacation this month, leaving us less time to get things ready. But all of this doesn't stop me from fantasizing about knocking on their door and politely asking, "um, would you mind just speeding things along a bit? We would prefer to not be homeless, thanks."

The practical side of me is pretty sure we will be living here this winter.

Who pressed fast forward?

I don't really want to admit that these past few months have been about biding time until now-- but ok, they totally have. And not that there haven't been a few distractions along the way (exciting new babies, sandboxes, and developing language skills included) but in the back of my brain, I have been counting down to this week... little did I know just what a crescendo it would become.

And it all comes down to now. Sean officially, officially finds out about his job status tomorrow, and just today we accepted an offer on the house that may or may not have us packing next month. Just typing this has me in a cold sweat, reaching for the family sized bottle of Pepto which now resides in my nightstand (no longer just reserved for the 3 o'clock in the morning version of these worries).

It's all so exciting! But, I'm ready to come down from this 24 hour a day adrenaline high, and get back to focusing on the smaller things. However, until then- we are officially unpaused.

His quest for autonomy-my quest for serenity

So I've been taking a lot of deep breaths lately. I've also been listening to a lot of Enya and Coldplay... and when that isn't doing it, I've been strapping him in the stroller (sometimes, ok, most times against his will) and walking until the endorphins kick in.

Ah yes... toddlerhood.

Toddlers have an amazing way of keeping your ego in check. You never feel smug when he sits happily in the cart while you stroll past a kid on the floor kicking and screaming below their crimson faced parent, because you know that it will be you tomorrow.

Trying to navigate around tantrums is kind of an exhausting job. I think of it as calculated risks (a million a day). Say for example you are at the store. You come back from grabbing the laundry detergent to find that your significant other has let the child hold on to a bag of golf tees that said significant other claims the child "just had to have." Then you notice that in the amount of time it took you to whine about sticking to the list, he has chewed a hole in the bag, and is drooling all over it. You quickly calculate the risk of taking the chewed on merchandise away.

You must factor in:
- the amount of sleep the child has had
- the percent chance that there will soon be golf tees all down the aisle
- the percent chance that those very tees just got off of a boat from a foreign
land, and lets face it, are probably just sticks dipped in lead paint
- what is on hand that might distract the child from the golf tees
- the alignment of the planets
- how many people are in line at the checkout
- how fast you think you could get a screaming toddler out of the store

So you calculate, and decide to take the tees, resulting in the tantrum of the century. Was it the right answer? You'll never know.

But hey, at least you provided some birth control to the teens who were walking behind you. You are pretty sure you even saw the couple stop holding hands.

Holy crap, where did my baby go?

So,

The burp cloths have made the transition into dusting rags
The crib seems too small
The diaper bag is scaled down to just diapers
Bottles have been donated and long gone
Formula- what's that?
The clothes are lasting longer
Sesame Street is getting undivided attention
The morning nap is gone
Sleep is easy to come by
Verbal communication- need I say more?

Things definitely seem to be heading in the right direction. And yet, Sean and I are feeling the itch. Especially since we found this video today...

Someone better give us a reality check- and quick. The nostalgia is clouding our judgement!

It's been awhile

But no news is good news!

(Except in the world of realty... apparently in realty, no news is bad news.)

Anyway, here are some pics- Happy June!

I can almost taste the Ramen...

When I was eighteen, sacrificing a week of actual sustenance for a week of Kraft mac and cheese and a new outfit was exciting. At twenty five, the prospect of having to make choices like that (only with diapers and a mortgage thrown in the mix) is far too exciting for me.

Sean and I have known for a few months that Kimberly-Clark will be letting a significant percentage of their workforce go after July. I've been through the gamut of emotions. After a few weeks of nail biting, tossing and turning, and the opposite of stress eating, I have settled into (and have started to enjoy) blissful ignorance.

Last week we got word that July 15th is the official date - when we finally get closer to answering questions like, how long I will be driving around a car that was made the year I graduated from elementary school?... and, how old will Kelan be when he finally has a sibling?...

The truth is, despite all of my unnecessary worrying - we'll be fine. The whole situation makes me appreciate what we have. As excruciatingly cliche as it sounds, right now we have our health- and we're happy.

So, we'll hope for a new car and a brother for Kelan, but we'll be OK with a clunker and some free playdates. Just don't expect me to have any fingernails come June 30th.

My first refrigerator art!

This came home from the Y with Kelan yesterday.

There is something about fingerpaint that just melts my heart.

Is it because I'm ugly?

The process of selling your house is like asking someone that you're pretty sure is out of your league to a dance. And being rejected. A couple times a week.

So here's what it has been like for me: I clean and scrub and dust and arrange (and Febreze). I hide things that the realtor warned us people might not like to see (which for some reason includes loofahs and highchairs -but whatever, I'll play your game finicky buyer) and sometimes even remember to put fresh fruit in the bowl (or at least turn the apples so that the yucky side is facing down). It all feels so desperate; Like I am putting on every ounce of make up I own and wearing my best outfit, getting ready to ask my friend to ask that guy to the dance for me.

For that hour or so... I am thinking things like- Oh my gosh, they are probably in my house right now. Did I remember to pick up that Cheerio I saw peeking out from under the couch? I hope they can't see that small stain in the carpet. Oh and let's not forget... Please let them buy my house, who needs a garage when you have an amazing leaky shed?

Then we get home, and if there isn't a sad little note on the table, there is an email from the realtor letting us down easy... writing things like, At least they didn't think the price was bad! Which to me is just like your best friend coming back with the bad news and then saying "Well at least he didn't say you were smelly like that Ashley girl!"

Ugh, I could use some Ben and Jerry's after all this rejection.

Willy Wonka is going to blow this kid's mind someday

So, we took Kelan to the Children's museum today and he took the whole baby garden thing a bit too literally.

Yeah, he's trying to eat the "fruit,"and no, this is not the only decoration he tried to eat. I probably should have been embarrassed, but it was just too funny.

Confessions of a desperate housewife

Not desperate as in "I lust after the FedEx man" desperate, more like "It's probably time for a hobby" desperate.

Ah - Independence, sanity, identity... I vaguely remember these things. I'm pretty sure they disappeared right around the time the epidural kicked in.

Want to hear an embarrassing confession? Sure you do. A couple weeks ago, when I was brushing my teeth before bed, I came to the shocking realization that I hadn't left the house. In. Three. Days. Oh god, my cheeks are red. Now, this really isn't the norm for me, but I have to say it was a wake up call.

As they say, drastic times call for drastic measures. So off to the YMCA I went. I signed myself up for 2 free exercise classes and 1 knitting class. I'm pretty sure the embarrassment of sweating and stumbling over cardio moves in front of a mirror and several fellow classmates can come nowhere close to the humiliation I felt upon realizing that I spent roughly 20 minutes a day for three days in a row flat ironing my hair so that I could neurotically clean my house and teach Kelan to eat with a fork.

I've always marveled at the moms who can call a nurse and say "He's got it again, send the prescription to Walgreens."

It seems like every kid has that one illness that they are super-prone to. I have a friend that can recognize an ear infection in her daughter by the sound of her cry. For me, it has never been that simple. It's mostly just a lot of calling nurse direct and feeling like a bumbling idiot. (Wait, I was supposed to keep track of wet diapers?)

In any event, 104.0 is not what you like to see on your thermometer a half hour before the clinic opens.

Sunday's fever was a bit worrisome as it kept coming back just a bit higher each time the Tylenol wore off. On Monday morning we woke up to a listless, furnace of a kid and I was officially freaked.


It was strange since the only symptom he had was a fever, but on a hunch the doctor ordered a chest x-ray and announced that he has Pneumonia. So, Kelan and I spent most of the day on the couch. He slept like a newborn, and I cleaned out the DVR.


Sadly, I think chest infections are what he's prone to. Maybe this is how it happens, it's just a pattern that you notice. I sincerely hope that we get better at catching on to the signs though, because Pneumonia does not mess around.

Yesterday was fun. Today - not so much

Kelan is feverish, restless, and just plain miserable today. Poor guy.

Here are some pics of yesterday.

All I need now are the pants with the hula hoop waist and a really tiny car...

It starts out small.

The minute your child is born, you find yourself constantly smiling at them and making those faces with the really dramatic eyebrow raise. As soon as they start to smile back at you, you kick it up a notch with the wild gestures... which for me included a lot of flailing arms and exaggerated peek-a-boo motions.

Then the kid starts laughing and you pretty much go nuts. I have been known to do some pretty ridiculous things to get that much sought after giggle... lets just say I would probably drop dead if my high school crush ever walked in on our "90 second dance parties" - enough said.

At some point though, when the tantrum stage hits, a certain desperation creeps into the entertaining routine. You realize another reason for this impromptu gesticulating, loud excited happy voice using, and funny noise making--distraction. This is especially true in public places. Take this evening, for example. Sean and I decided to take Kelan to a sit down restaurant for a late dinner. In retrospect it was ill-advised as Kelan missed a nap and is cutting his canines.

At some point between rolling up the kids menu and using it as a telescope, and driving a matchbox car down a make-shift coaster ramp, I looked around at all of our fellow diners casually eating over adult conversation (not wolfing down food at a mach 8) and thought to myself- at what point did I turn into a clown?

Toy du jour

The tight roll? Really the fashion world, really?

A favorite past time of mine is to study up on spring styles in February, if for no other reason than to remind myself that it will be spring...eventually. I have to say, I almost had a heart attack when I caught a glimpse of what the kids are wearing these days. Apparently (sources say, thanks to Katie Holmes none the less) the tight roll is back. Seriously.


Now, I vividly remember the few shopping experiences I had with my mom during my teenage years. The dialogue usually went something like this:


mom: "Ughh bell bottoms? Those are coming back... I hated them when they were first here. And why on earth would you want jeans that look like someone already wore them for a year?" (Usually after this she would go on to complain about how the music in my stores of choice was way too loud and obnoxious.)


me: (Insert annoyed sigh and heavy eye roll) "Mom they are not bell bottoms and they aren't that worn in, they are distressed flares"



mom: "Fine get them, but don't come crying to me when you need new ones soon because those look like they are going to fall apart any second." (and I didn't. Because the holes only made them cooler.)



Now, really I was only in Elementary school when the tight roll was "in". I followed the trend because my cool big sister did it, but I was never a fan. Not to mention the jeans I tight rolled were the Chic brand from Shopko - so apparently I was never that concerned anyway back then.



The sad part is, I can totally see myself at the store with my teenager right now! I'd be complaining about how the tight roll was "so eighties" and that it wasn't even that great back then. At which point my teenager would roll eyes and tell me that there is a new term for the tight roll that I'm not even cool enough to know.



Maybe it's because I am scared to hop on the skinny pant boat or maybe it's because I am realistic enough to admit that I do not have the legs for the skinny pants, but I have avoided them at all costs... I'm just not ready to picture myself in the above scenario yet- so I'll probably break down and don the latest fashion this summer.

Then again, Should I really be taking fashion advice from Tom Cruise's wife?

Malaise-y days

A nasty virus swept through our home this past week. Kelan had to get yet another chest x-ray. After a week on Prednisone and a seemingly constant stream of albuteral treatments, he is better than ever. Sean and I however, are still feeling a bit under the weather. Anyway, this is really just noise... the real story is as follows:

Kelan is turning out to be a mini version of Sean - crappy lungs and all. Frankly, I've been a little worried about our lack of inate similarities (pure neurosis - yes, I'm aware). That is, until a minor but exciting event took place.

During one of the days that Sean was home sick from work and all three of us were lounging on the couch feeling like the living dead, I flipped on The Price is Right. I bet you know where this is going... Ususally, Kelan is down for his nap at 10:00 and I sip a cup of hot tea while enjoying one of my morning vices -- An hour to myself with Drew Carey or the ladies on The View. Oh yeah, act like you don't have a vice.

Anyway, to my complete delight Kelan went nuts for The Price is Right!!! He could not keep his eyes off of the screen during the showcase showdown (the big wheel for all of you non-nerds) and he watched Sean and I with a big smile while we yelled at the dumb college kids who didn't know the price of canned soup. This love for TPIR is no conincidence because despite the fact that Sean has been DVR-ing Sesame Street since Kelan started wearing size 2 diapers, he has not even shown a little interest.

Proof positive- the kid is mine.

Another First

His teenage years are going to break the bank

I laugh thinking about how we spent the first couple weeks of this kid's life trying to get him to eat.

Kelan was kind of a sluggish newborn. Really, the poor child just wanted to sleep but the hospital forced us to bottle feed when he lost ten percent of his birth weight. I have these memories of Sean trying to get him to swallow MILLILITERS of milk from a plastic syringe. When we left the hospital, Kelan tipped the scales at a whopping five pounds thirteen ounces. The lactation consultant advised us to feed him every two hours. The kicker- we ended up having to wake him up to feed him during the night.

And here he is 13 short months later:

He might as well be some sort of pod baby. I watch him with awe at mealtimes. I sometimes refer to him as the snake because he will swallow food whole when he is really hungry. His first word was more (which was kind of embarrasing because people thought he was saying mama- I knew better). His second word was cracker.

I've never seen anything like it... and apparently neither have the staff at the drop in daycare that I take him to. They often jokingly (I hope) ask if I forgot to feed him. I just laugh nervously. It's enough to have me seriously wondering about reincarnation. Perhaps in a past life he had a lot of hungry siblings to contend with.

Quarter life crisis

So it's my 25th today and you'd probably think I'd have something profound to say. Well, you would be wrong.

Among the many random thoughts floating through my head this morning is "Oh my god, am I officially too old to cast for The Real World?!?"

One year older... yep. One year wiser...I guess not.

I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids...

is the title of one of my new favorite books. I couldn't have phrased it better. I have been working really hard on having more realistic expectations of motherhood and this book has really added some humor to that.

After working with infants in child care for four years, I had a pretty good idea (OK, I had an exact detailed plan) of how I was going to raise my children. If I'm being honest, I spent a lot of time at work thinking I'm never going to let my child eat that, do that, say that.. etc.

I have to say, this whole becoming a mom experience has made me a big believer in fate. I believe that I got the perfect child to teach me the error of my old ways. 95% of the time Kelan is an angel. He is really calm and happy and has a fun-loving personality. People have always remarked that I am lucky to have such an "easy" baby. Well not only does this feed some sort of weird desire that I have to please people, but it puts pressure on me to somehow deny (and go nuts during) the other 5% of the time, when he is a temper-tantrum-throwing, monster-when-he-misses-enough-naps, average toddler.

Just recently when I was at the ymca paying for some classes, the woman at the desk shared a smile with Kelan. "What a sweet little boy" she said. "He seems really easy-going. My third was like that; doesn't it really throw you when he isn't himself?" She really hit the nail on the head. She went on to talk about how her first was really dramatic, and had "fits" all the time, but when her easy kid would do it, it would really throw her for a loop. It's so true! I've often thought that I wouldn't get so worked up about his "crabby times" if I was used to it, and could be better prepared.

Anyway, I digress.

One thing I have learned this year is that as a parent- you will do almost everything you swore you wouldn't do before you had kids (or at least I have.) For me, this included laying my seven month old down with a bottle once in awhile to help everyone get some sleep...old me would have had a coronary.

No mom is an island

Last night I found myself trying desperately to come up with my New Year’s resolution at the last minute. I wanted something that would be a noticeable change, but also something achievable. Then it hit me - I should resolve to rely less on my “village” and do more for myself. I fell into a blissful sleep at 11:30 (yes, this is how lame I have become.)

I have been lucky to have an amazing support system. Sean and I both have parents that are willing to help out at the drop of a hat. Not to mention extended family, friends, and coworkers who have helped babysit, dragged us out of the house for an evening out, or answered our dumb parenting questions without laughing at us. I have even been utilizing the YMCA drop-in daycare for anything from a quick work out to an afternoon of housework.

Lately, I have started to worry that I rely too heavily on these people. I have been afraid that other people will find out that I can’t do everything by myself… I am far from a supermom. Especially as a stay-at-home mom, the guilt of not being able to finish everything has really set in. I have found myself thinking, “It should not be this hard to keep the cupboards full, house clean, and everyone in clean clothes. I don’t even work outside this house and I only have one child!”

Last night shortly after I made my resolution, I awoke to Kelan screaming. It turned out to be what I call a dig deep night (which means Kelan was up more than he was asleep), with what Sean and I assume was teething pain. Somewhere around three thirty in the morning, watching Sean rock Kelan, I started thinking. The reason I have my sanity is because of all of the help I get. I know that tomorrow if I need a quick nap, I can ask for it. I’m not sure I want to feel bad about not being able to do everything alone… not with perks like naps!

So instead of resolving to be more independent, I think my new year’s resolution will be to pay it forward - to be a helpful villager in someone else’s life. As many of my friends embark on this parenting adventure, I will offer my assistance in babysitting, advice, or dragging them out for an evening of fun. There. That wasn’t so hard. Happy 2009!