This week so far in bullets- The fun, the strange, and the just plain sad.

The fun!

House is on the market! - I've been working my butt off to meet this goal since I got home. After several weeks of endless laundry, organizing, and more binge cleaning than I can ever file under "emotionally healthy", it's finally looking great. I am excited, but strangely empty. Now what will I do with myself?

The nice weather is back! And you doubted me. Perfect for rolling around in the leaves and photo shoots with pumpkins...cliche pics coming soon.

The strange

I started having that recurring dream about fish out of water again, I'll give a dollar to anyone who can let me know how to remedy this- it's driving me nuts. So far I've tried insomnia, but let's face it, that can really only work for so long until I start putting the phone in the freezer and forgetting the day of the week.

Um, so I'm not sure who has been teaching Kelan this one- and not that I'm judging any one's ability to spend quality time with him when I'm not around, but two nights ago Kelan and I were in the basement having a little dance party and he totally started dancing with the pole/support beam? So just a quick note to all of my trusted child care "village" -I'm watching you. And I gave his picture to all of the gentleman's clubs in our area so he will no longer be welcome thankyouverymuch.

The just plain sad

Sean and I got in an argument earlier this week which prompted him to hop in my car on an angry run to the gas station for a Diet Pepsi. A while later I got a sheepish call that he "accidentally" backed my car into a pole (what is it with these boys and poles?) I don't think it takes Freud to unravel this one. Obviously it had something to do with his childhood. Or the phallic stage. Or both. But probably the fact that we had just gotten into a fight and he is passive aggressive like that. Just kidding. I forgive you Sean.

Kelan is getting over a cold. He has been awesomely irritable! Last night Sean and I finally had enough and took him to a Fastcare assuming it was an ear infection or something. No such luck. I guess he is just a two year old.

This is why I should really blog less often

So, fun fact- I am strangely fascinated by Aaron Neville's voice. I have been since childhood. Every time I hear a song by him on the radio or in a store I get really excited. I have even mastered an impression that you are welcome to hear (after one too many drinks, that is).

I dare you-DARE you to listen to one of his songs and not be mystified...

Hmmm, just me then?

I've never actually purchased any music by Aaron Neville, but that's all going to change soon because, guess what?- He has a Christmas cd! I'm sorry but I have no choice but to believe that it is fate that Sean was singing an Aaron Neville song out of the blue yesterday, and that I decided to play the demo on iTunes to show him how off key he was, and that I stumbled upon an entire list of Christmas songs TWO MONTHS before Christmas!

Fate.

I get giddy just thinking of all the car rides this holiday season. Picture it, the fam and I, driving along and me singing (loudly) to these songs.

iTunes calls his voice soulful- I call it irresistible.

Oh Holy niiiiiiieeeeeiiiiiiiieeeeeiiiiiight........

Don't call it a comeback

Alright people, time for round two. I'm psyched! I can't wait to have to clean the house meticulously, vacate at a moments notice, and take all sorts of negative criticism on my home!!! It is SUPERFANTASTIC!


I'm a little jaded. We've been trying to unload this money pit sell our beautiful house off and on since January of 2008. Turns out, someone really lucked out when they found Sean and I... we were just the right kind of crazy to believe in the "charm" of the place.


Actually, I really do love this house, and if I had a ton of money, I'd maybe remodel the crap out of it to make it more practical, but I don't, and that's just the problem- it would take a LOT of money.


As it turns out, everything that made Sean and I fall in love with the house to begin with is making us want to get rid of it, and also keeping other people from wanting to buy it.


Let's see,


That beautiful wooded ravine in our backyard? Gorgeous to look at, death-trapish for a young child.


Those lovely old windows full of character? A heating nightmare.


That quaint wood burning fireplace in the living room? Lets so much smoke in the house that Kelan has a major asthma attack whenever we even think about starting a fire.


This adorable established neighborhood that is so full of character and has a big city feel? Apparently most Wisconsinites need garages these days. Babies.

So are we putting our house on the market this week? Yeah.

Do I have a lot of hope that it will sell soon? Umm... not so much.

It's okay though, I really do love this house. Just not enough to want to live in it anymore.

Quarry Quest

A.K.A. Kelan's idea of heaven

What? I'm not defensive.

Look at the face of this poor neglected child. Sally Struthers will probably be knocking on our door soon. *

I've been in denial (a little) about the cooler weather approaching. I mean, this is just the cold snap before the Indian summer, obviously.

For a third time, yesterday, someone at the daycare casually mentioned that I forgot Kelan's coat. Temps here have been averaging highs of 60-70 degrees. Okay, usually low sixties. (Which, by the way, is shorts weather in the spring but apparently parka weather in the fall) It's not that the daycare employees have ever been rude in any way, I'm pretty sure they just assume that I'm some misguided teen mom.

Usually I arrive at daycare and search for him on the playground. Then I freak out because he isn't there, and finally see that he is, I just didn't recognize him in a faded, way-too-small sweatshirt from the "community" bin. It's all downhill from there.

Child care technician: (smiling sweetly) "Oh, hi there! We come out here to play every day- the kids love it! Just so you know, we are out each day that the weather is above 30 degrees, so we encourage parents to bring hats, gloves, you know, the works."

Me: (Look down and notice I am still wearing flip flops and a tee shirt- it's not cold- is it?) "Oh, I'm sorry, thanks for the loaner!"

They have given me that speech twice already.

Yesterday, I just lied. LIED,

Daycare tech: "Bye Kelan! Tell your mommy you had a great time playing outside except your coat wasn't in your cubby!"

Side note: Does anyone else think it's more than weird when people talk to your child like that? I never know if they are expecting me to answer, or if they were even talking to Kelan at all.

Me: (laugh awkwardly) Yeah, sorry. I must have left it in the car. (In my defense, I did throw a knit hat in the bag, so it's not like he was freezing to death in the 59 degree weather.)

(What I wanted to say but didn't, because not everyone gets my sense of humor)- Yeah, gosh, I told him he was going to be cold! He was on my lap on the drive over and I told him he couldn't steer this time because last time we kept hitting things, and he got all sassy and chucked his coat out the window! I finally got him to stop whining by putting some rum in the sippy cup, so at least he was all calm for you guys! Don't worry, when I unlock the door after his timeout I will totally make him walk back and pick up his coat.

* I don't know which is more pathetic: The fact that Sean and I have yet to shop for a single piece of Kelan's fall wardrobe, or the fact that I have been sharing mine with him.

Please remind me of this at the end of January...

...when I am scraping the windshield and praying that Sean gets transferred to a place that has never seen snow.

Last Sunday was the most gorgeous day. Fall in Wisconsin is my absolute favorite. I think of leaves, and picking apples, and carving pumpkins, making soup, buying sweaters...I feel all euphoric just thinking about it.

Anyway, we took advantage of the weather and took a walk on the trail by the river. It was sweet. Kelan got to ride his bike and look for sticks and bugs. I tried to capture the moment and store it up for the loooooong winter days ahead.

Kelan trying to feed the Wooly bear caterpillar.

Sleep is for suckers

I've been having a little trouble with sleep lately. As in, it's rare.


Instead of whining about how annoying it is to wake up at 2, stare at the ceiling for an hour, crawl out of bed at 3 every morning and try to function until 9:30 p.m. (that's right I go to bed at a geriatric hour these days), I thought I'd have some fun, and let you in on my top ten favorite things to do between 3:00 and 8:00 a.m.


Okay, I meant in addition to whining about it.


Here goes:


10) Research how to cure insomnia- and then blatantly ignore the advice, because come on! No caffeine after 11:00 a.m.? Do they know how tired I am? And give up chocolate? Pass.


9) Fight with myself about whether or not I should be eating. I mean, technically it's not breakfast yet, and I'm adding an extra meal into my day if I start eating pre-breakfast...those muffins are really good, but if I had one I'd want coffee and who drinks coffee at this hour? Seriously, this one can take me half an hour.


8) Think really deep thoughts. Just Kidding. Usually I start thinking about something that seems profound and then forget what I was just thinking, because if I have learned anything, it's that sleep and complete thoughts are highly correlated.


7) Catch up on the trashiest TV out there. Time normal people spend REMing is time wasted considering how much more trashy TV could be watched. Shows that were not worth my time previously, are now fitting into my schedule. Which reminds me, I think I caught an STI from watching Jersey Shore this season. I should get that checked out.



6) Think of ways to annoy you. That's right, I totally think of things I can blog about. (well, until #8 kicks in).



5) Google like a crazy person. You know when you are wondering something, and you could look it up but it doesn't really seem life or death? I just save it all up in my head for my 3-8 time now. I have learned SO much! Here are some of my googles this week. "What is the lifespan of a monarch?", "which Baldwin brother is in Backdraft?" and "Are they ever going to make a movie out of Perks of Being a Wallflower?" I learned how to use search engines during the ask jeeves hype... I have never quite grown out of it.


4) Think of the places I could go at 3am. And then stay home, because I'm too lazy to get dressed. One of these days though, I am going to see what the grocery store is like at 3:30, and who does their laundry at 4:00a.m. at that 24 hour place. Cause, why not?


3) Read. Retain nothing. (see#8)


2) Listen for strange noises. Then wonder if the house is haunted. Google "How to know if your house is haunted"


1) Watch the neighbors Rear Window-style. Seriously, it's more interesting than you'd think. There are crazies in my neighborhood that wake up (ON PURPOSE) at 4:30 in the morning to go running. I need to make sure that if they go postal, and the police ask me about it, I can let them in on the reason. Also, if it weren't for insomnia, I would never have known that the neighbor woman sneaks out at 6:00a.m. and buries liquor bottles in her recycling. (Actually, this one is kind of disturbing and I wish I could go back to blissful ignorance).



So, I'm getting tired of most of these and I could use some fresh ideas. What do you do when you can't sleep?

This is where I draw the line, insanely wealthy people.

Ummmm.... I don't even really know how to start this.

I mean, I guess it's no secret that Sean and I aren't upper crust. The signs are everywhere... Our summer house is totally just a tent and even then it's, you know, only for that one weekend. Sometimes we drink wine out of champagne glasses. I have never put premium gasoline in any vehicle, ever. Probably the most obvious sign, (because our porch isn't big enough for an old couch) is the fact that we use ice cube trays. ice cube trays. That's right, our refrigerator doesn't magically spit out perfectly shaped cubes of ice. Wrap your brain around that for a second.

Here is where I'm going with this; Yesterday, I got a catalog in the mail. It was for a children's clothing store called Marie-Chantal (tag line-beautiful clothes for beautiful children). I paged through it, looking at the adorable blonde haired, blue eyed babies wearing cardigans and pea coats and thought, "aww how cute (in a Stepford sort of way)." Then my eyes wandered over to the prices.


HOLY HELL!

I had to squint to make sure I saw them right.

Because, wow.

Okay. I am all for splurging at Gap Baby if I see a cute little hat or sweater, but here is where I vomit in my mouth a little; $148.00 for a pair of flats. FOR A PRESCHOOLER. $416.00 for a "skating coat"!!! Because, we all know that kids never grow, and they definitely don't kick off their shoes while riding in the stroller somewhere between Macy's and that day spa.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking to start a political debate here. I'm just having a little fun over the fact that something Sean or I did this past year made this company think that we were worthy of their catalog.

BUT... In my humble opinion, if theoretically you have the choice between buying a 3 year old a four hundred dollar coat, or putting money toward feeding an entire village of people in a third world country?...

Just sayin'

This is probably why most doctors recommend more than four hours of sleep a night

Ever had one of those days?

You know, that one day where you couldn't sleep past 3:30 and decided to eat a breakfast of stale Oreos in front of the show Hoarders? And even though you had been up since 3:30, you didn't drag yourself into the shower until 6:00 and everything took you seven times longer than normal? Then after that, you had to drop your screaming kid off at daycare to make it 10 minutes late to an appointment and you almost turned around on the way because he was all, "I'm sad....I don't want to go....I'll miss you...please don't make me go to drop-in!" but then you realized that you had to go to the appointment, and turning around would only perpetuate his separation anxiety?

Ever had one of those days where you really, really needed your toddler to nap and just as soon as he fell asleep, the neighbors had a huge, loud truck pull in and unload people to shout to each other and pound on the roof for 3 hours? And 5 minutes after they came, you wanted to cry like a baby, because despite your silent prayers, you heard said toddler shout, "I wake up mommy!"

Ever had one of those days where you were so behind on everything house, but had to spend an hour and a half on the phone figuring out what was with that random pile of bills that had been sitting on the desk in no order whatsoever? And during that hour you had to beg your toddler seventeen hundred times (while hearing the loud annoyed sighs on the other end of the phone) to "please give mommy two more minutes..."?

And the laundry is piling up, and you ruined your teapot because all of the water evaporated before you could get to it and it made sparking sounds and smelled scary, and you don't have a five year plan, and what the heck should you go back to school for?

And OH MY CRAP what should you do about dinner?!

Ugh. Those days.

I found the cure.

You just have to lay next to your kid on the floor, and he'll say completely out of the blue, "A double rainbow- Oh my god!" and your day will be completely fixed because even though you are a crappy parent who let your kid play with trains on the floor while you were watching that viral video four times yesterday, and laughing so loud with your husband and you forgot to ask him if he had to go potty, he still loved you and knew just what to say to fix a bad day?



Life is good.

The one where I shoved bamboo shoots under his fingernails (or might as well have)

Warning: this is another post in which I whine about parenting.

Oh my Gaaaaaawwwwd the injustice.

So I've heard that the "science" of parenting is to be consistent and receive results. I'm sorry, but I have to call BS.

Something amazing happened last week. I decided not to blog it because of the jinx factor. Everybody knows that second you tell people that your baby is finally sleeping through the night is the second your baby stops that cute little trend. Anyway, I took Kelan to daycare for the first time in three or four months. I expected resistance. I expected screaming and kicking. I expected the annoyed looks on the teachers' faces as they pried him off of my legs. I did not expect him to casually walk in and say "Hi" to people, wave goodbye to me, and walk away- but that's what happened.

That experience totally made my day. I may have been on the treadmill running, but in my head I was thinking of all the part-time job hunting I should do, all of the last minute errands I could run, the coffee dates I could enjoy while he had fun socializing with kids his age. Oh the freedom of having a child that is open to drop-in daycare!

Five short days later- I'm on the treadmill running... but this time I'm closing my eyes and running far, far away from the screaming- and the fear that my toddler has some sort of crazy attachment disorder that will cripple him for life. If you happened to be at the downtown Y today, you might have seen me. I was the disheveled chick carrying the screaming kid and trying not to drop the backpack or, god forbid, the matchbox-sized airplanes that he "had" to bring with him. I looked a hot mess.

So, In conclusion, there might be some rhyme or reason to all of this consistency stuff, but in my humble opinion, it's touch and go- on the best days. And the "science" of parenting is to always be consistent, and don't ever, ever, expect it back. That way you'll be happy when you get it... in about 20 years.

How bout them packers?

Here is a short list of things that I have really enjoyed since coming back to WI:



1) My kid- like this one needs an explanation

2) My Husband- because someone needs to catch me up on all of the reality TV I missed- and OMG do you think Ali was going to pick Frank?

3) The weather- because 80 degrees with humidity is soooo much better than 100+ degrees with humidity (a dry heat my ass)

4) Trees- because they are so green and tree-like. Brown is such a drab color. And there's shade, that's always nice.

5) Squirrels- I think people in AZ might be confused... the animals they call squirrels are not squirrels... I think they are some sort of chipmunk hybrid.

6) Dessert- I had lost a couple (OK 10) pounds over the summer from a combination of stress and med changes. It's kind of fun not having to watch my simple carb intake for the time being. This week I went to Great American Cookies and got myself a double doozie.....aaaaaMAZING!!!

7) Water- you know because we have it.

8) Reading- I wasn't allowed to read for pleasure in treatment but I have been more than making up for it. I recently read Water for Elephants (awesome novel-soon to be a movie) and Smashed (a well-written, engrossing memoir about a teen aged girl with a drinking problem)

Ah yes, home sweet home.

But I do miss some things from AZ. I miss the lizards and the palm trees. I miss the girls from the program. I miss the mountains and riding horses. Most of all though, I miss waking up and having to chug a glass of lukewarm gatorade- the kind mixed (never in the same ratio) from powder. Just kidding, I don't miss gatorade at all. Yuck.

My kid got weird while I was gone

Or more likely my parenting got rusty.


But seriously,


Yesterday I had to threaten a time-out because he was licking the tv screen. Sean and I also had to put to use some serious distraction skills when he begged and pleaded to bring one of our dinner plates with him to Grandma's house. Yes a plate. He'll never know how close I came to giving in and just letting him bring it. I have to admit, part of me picked this battle just to see how much of a fuss he would put up over a dinner plate. Because I'm a terrible mom and I like to mess with his head a little.


But this is odd behavior, no?


I get picking battles, I just never imagined that they would get this...strange.


Send parenting books.

I'm back (ish)

In the past, when people would come up to me with the obligatory "Hey how are you doing?" question, I would pause for a second and seriously consider actually being honest instead of plastering on the fake smile and answering "great!" I think maybe I'm not alone in this. Or possibly I am and that is how I got in this situation to begin with.

If you asked me today though, the obligatory, "Hey how are you doing?" (well unless you were like my bank teller or cashier or something, cause I'm not that crazy) I would gladly answer "I'm losing my s!&#, but I hope it gets better soon." Because I am so over faking.

Don't get me wrong, I know that whole "laugh and the world laughs with you" stuff, and we all know that I love me a good laugh, but when you are going through a rough time, the last thing you want is to be honest about it only to be met with a cheery smile and faux sympathetic head nod as if that person is simply baffled that someone could feel a feeling other than bliss.

This is why the past two months of my life have been the best and worst all at once. As you are probably aware now, my hiatus was actually me spending 52 long days in an inpatient program for women suffering from eating and/or anxiety disorders.

I was there getting help for anxiety. The experience was life changing. I learned some hard truths about life and about myself. I faced some of my biggest fears and I lived to tell about it.

The part of treatment that I enjoyed the most was being surrounded by a sample of the population that is simply honest about their struggles. I guess it's kind of impossible to be in a treatment center and still fake that your life is "right on track!" It was a rare circumstance and I am grateful for the opportunity to have experienced it.

Needless to say, the adjustment back home has been rough.

I find myself going through the motions and feeling a bit isolated. So I guess I'll just continue to be honest, and the honest truth is that I'm not fixed yet. I'm learning to live life a different way and it's a little difficult. I'm needing help from people and it's always hard to admit when you need help. I'm taking a leap of faith and hoping that once I get through this hard part that things will better in the long run.

Wow this is getting lengthy.

I suppose the only thing I have left to say right now is that if I ask you how you are doing, please feel free to say the thing you might be really thinking, instead of "I'm great! how are you?"

H is for hiatus

Just wanted to mention that I'll be exiting the blogosphere for awhile. I'll miss it terribly!

Back in about six weeks at which time I will have plenty of random pictures and some fresh anecdotes to annoy you with.

An open letter to the taxpayers in my city

Dear fellow taxpayers,



I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize for an incident that took place last Saturday, involving a [my husband's] parenting failure. This incident took time from our police force that would have been better spent on more important duties than unlocking our toddler from our vehicle. I am sincerely sorry. I wish I could promise that it will never happen again, but in all honesty, it very well might. I can, however, promise that our next vehicle will come equipped with Onstar.



Sincerely,


Emily



Parenting fail #7835 Kelan locks himself in my car. Again. This one is not on me. Really.

Let me just start by explaining why only a little part of this is my fault. I leave my keys in my car (well probably not anymore after this post). I do this for several reasons. Including but not limited to the following:

1) I am a very trusting person

2) If they are always in the car, I don't have to go hunting around for them.

3) If someone needs a 1996 Honda (that has no working windows, leaks oil like a sieve, shakes at stop lights or anytime the spedomoter goes over 50, and has a check engine light that's been on for six months) bad enough to steal it- then clearly, their problems are worse than mine and good riddance.

So that is the part of the situation that I take responsibility for.

I have no idea why Sean lets Kelan play around in our cars. He has locked himself in my car so often that I don't even get fazed by it. Usually we just look around for the spare key and that's that.

Last Saturday, Sean let me sleep in. When I woke up, the boys were outside. Sean was doing yard work. I remember thinking to myself, There's no way Sean would let Kelan play in the car without making sure the keys were out first. Especially since earlier in the week Kelan had run my car battery down by leaving the lights on.

I was almost finished with my coffee when Sean came in and asked me where the keys were. Kelan locked himself in. Turns out both sets were in the car. I had no words. It wasn't a hot day and Kelan wasn't distraught, so I felt no guilt taking a shower and letting Sean deal with the repercussions (police and all). By the time I was done flat ironing my hair, all was well.

Another day, another parenting fail.

Don't have much to say

But here are some random pictures of Kelan at the park this season. Happy Friday!

Decisions

So, I don't really know the rules about making major life choices in the wake of a miscarriage; I mean, I'm pretty sure that that it's [mildly?] ill-advised, but I'm OK with that. In any event, here's the deal... I'm quitting the stay at home mom gig. Well, sort of.

My goal is to transition this summer and by fall I'll either be working part time or going to school part time. It's a big decision for me, but one that's been on my mind for a long time. There are a lot of reasons I could explain in detail but here is one that has come up a lot lately... the misconception amongst my peers about my "job".

Last week Sean and I went out to a bar to meet some friends. We ran into some of his colleagues unexpectedly. After Sean introduced me, a gentleman asked "So what do you do?" I told him that I stay at home with Kelan. his reply? "Oh you're so lucky! That would be the so great!" He went on to talk about how he'd be at the park all day... he lost me somewhere after the "great" part.

My point isn't that I'm not lucky, it's just that in all honesty, this is the typical reaction I receive upon telling people that I'm a stay at home mom. At first it was endearing, I tried to explain that it's actually kind of challenging. Then somewhere along the line I just gave up and let people think that I indeed, am having the time of my life changing diapers and dragging a screaming kid out of a store after getting 1/4 of the things I went in for.

I'm pretty sure stay at home parenting is the only job that people feel comfortable telling you how easy you have it. I mean, it's like saying to a nurse, "You don't know how great you have it! If I were you, I'd just lurk around the waiting room all day watching programs on the TV and giving people shots once in awhile."

So there it is. I know it seems shallow that I think about other peoples' perception of my life, but it's really just one minor aspect of the situation. There are more- like the lack of adult conversation in the day, and the fear that creeps in constantly that Kelan isn't getting enough social interaction with his peers because god forbid he ends up like his socially awkward, neurotic mother. etc.etc.etc.

I guess there isn't much else to say. The hard part is done now that I've finally decided, now it's just a matter of sorting out the details and figuring out what I want to be when I grow up.

Wish me luck?

disjointed brain vomit- hopefully this will pass as a post

Sorry about the little hiatus. Although I guess I'm only really apologizing to myself, cause you know, New Year's resolutions and all.

I wanted to blog, but Sean and I also wanted to keep our pregnancy a secret*. It felt really fake to blog about the normal trivia and minutiae with this huge life changing event going on. Turns out that the pregnancy wasn't viable though, so here I am again-all honest and stuff.

So it was a crazy emotional roller coaster for Sean and I, but we got through it! And might I add that I am so grateful for way we deal with hormonal craziness in this house? It goes a little like this-

1. I say something, or overreact with hormonal rage and/or tears
2. Sean stares at me incredulously
3. Sean tries to stifle a giggle, or most of the time laughs out loud
4. I try to be angry at his reaction, but I can't because it's just so justified
5. I laugh at myself

The miscarriage has also made me feel nostalgic for my teenage years, if only because I really thought I had it all figured out. I miss that blind certainty of all things. It was definitely easier to sleep at night.

For the past week this telemarketing "research" center has been calling our house upwards of four times a day. Today, when I finally picked up with the intention to beg them to take me off of their calling list, the man on the end of the line asked "Is your mom or dad home?" I laughed and said "I wish." He doesn't know the half of it.

He did say he'd call back later though.

*you know, in case it doesn't happen, and then we wouldn't have to tell anyone...

A boy after my very own heart

The bittersweet thing about the twin bed is that it allows Kelan certain freedoms. The rules are basically to be in bed by eight and then do whatever, as long as you don't come and bug us.

Sean and I listen for loud noises and commotion, but so far he hasn't been too wild. We are learning, however, that he is quite the little night owl- sometimes up in his room talking to himself and turning on and off his light for an hour or so before falling asleep.

The other night Sean captured this little moment in time when he went up to check on him.

I would use this as evidence of his amazing intellect, falling asleep with books and all, but I'll wait until he's falling asleep with Nietzsche to get all braggy about it. And there is the whole talking to himself thing, I mean, what is that all about??

I was tempted to say that this was the funniest thing that happened all week, but Sean discovered that you can change titles of DVR recordings and got all clever (read: kind of obscene) with some recordings...I'll call it a tie.

Hey, whaddya got there?

Who knows where he learns these phrases.

Certainly not from me...

We got Kelan a bike today. I think it's safe to say he likes it. As usual, we put it together during his nap and surprised him with it. Here is the unveiling...

That person you hear in the middle of the video is our neighbor. We had to scavenge for a bike pump after futzing with ours for a good 15 minutes. We don't know about that shaggy haired weirdo at the end, she must have wondered up from the street.

I give it a week before the bell mysteriously disappears from the bike, but how cute is it when kids say stuff like "That's pretty cool!"

Culture shock for this mama

It's been a long winter and I've been forced to get creative with indoor entertainment. Even so, like any SAHM (well any SAHM that isn't lying through her teeth, or employing lots of outside help), I have to admit that if the TV broke for more than a day, I would probably require inpatient mental health care.

Earlier this winter, I realized that The Bad Girl's Club was probably not appropriate for the preschool crowd. When Kelan looked up from his fire truck one day and asked, "Why she crying? She need a hug mommy?" I knew my reign over the TV was done. Since then, it's been locked on Nickelodeon and PBS.

Let me tell you, I strive to keep an open mind. I have seen a lot in my twenty six years of life and it's kind of hard to shock me, but seeeeeeriously what in the world is up with children's programming??? And is Nick Jr. actually for kids, or is it a cover for daytime stoner television, because it would be so embarrassing if I made that mix up...

First of all-Yo Gabba Gabba. Need I say more? I would describe it as Teletubbies on acid. It never fails that when Kelan is parked in front of that show, I'll look up from my book/email and see something that makes me do a double take. Usually it is a group of people in spandex with drawn-on mustaches "rocking out", or kids with beehive hairdos dancing to techno music. I'm not making this stuff up.

Just as odd, Lazy Town. I just recently discovered this one, and it actually scared Kelan at first- which is saying a lot. When he saw the tall back-flipping guy in the blue spandex fighting with a guy in a banana suit, he ran over to me and said, "I need a hug" which translates to "This is freaking me right out."

Oh, and also, Toot and Puddle should just come out already, it's 2010.

There's more. So. Much. More. A few shows that I don't mind, like even. Who could hate Oswald? How soothing is Fred Savage's voice? Very. Franklin and Little Bear? Tolerable! I could go on, but I think I've made my point.

THANK GOD FOR SPRING!!!!

Semantics and parenting

Where is our plaque?


Because clearly we are parents of the year.


Besides throwing our kid into a twin bed without so much as a warning- because transition schmansition (another post entirely), Sean and I had this amazing parenting moment this past week:


Sean: (to Kelan) You can have a piece of gum if you get your clothes on nicely.

(turns to me) Is bribery a frowned upon parenting technique?

Me: er, it's not bribery! It's... reward as incentive.

Then something amazing happened. We both looked at each other and a light bulb went on.

Both in harmony: Positive reinforcement!


It was special.

And it's not "crappy parenting"- it's... well yeah, it's that.

Think Winona Ryder in Beetlejuice, only 20 pounds heavier with an asymmetrical face

I got bangs y'all! Bangs!

Yeah, I know this is minutiae that you could probably live without, but if you're looking for some major news, head on over to Yahoo.

In any event, I did it, and I now have a love/hate relationship with my new 'do. I will explain by making a couple of random points. First of all, the last time I had bangs* was elementary school, so it is still a bit jarring to look in the mirror. Second, I feel that I should point out that they're not the full on straight-across-the-forehead type, but rather the pushed-to-the-side-you-might-not-even-notice-them kind**.

Even so, they have taken on this whole personality of their own and I am really annoyed. If you have a hard time believing this, just ask that gal that you know who still has the overgrown bob with the bangs so perfectly curled under that the only way you know there isn't a curling iron in there is because you can't see a cord dangling--I'm sure she'll tell you her bangs have been in charge for the last 15 years or so.

So yeah, I did it and now I have to live with the extra 15 minutes of getting ready and trying to look presentable. Because when people see me, I want them to see straight past the utter fear of getting older and having a dated look*** and think oooooh, she's trendy.



* I think they might be called "fringe" or "fringes" now, but I'm not certain.

** I should just put a picture up to save you the time of reading this, but I'll do that later.

***Or even worse... the dreaded "frumpy mom" that only makes appearances in the privacy of my home.

I kid. I kid because I love

So you think you know your husband. The man you've chosen to spend your life with. The father of your child. You feel you have gotten to the point of the relationship that is free of surprises.

And then one day he plops himself in front of the T.V, turns on the winter olympics and proceeds to cheer for the mens figure skating "free skate" competition like he is watching the Packers play in the superbowl. And you stand corrected.

That is what happened last night folks.

So I did a double take, and then sat down and watched it with him- just in case I was missing something. I thought for a second that he was trying to be ironic, or it was some jab at me for the hours and hours I spent 2 summers ago, parked in front of the gymnastics competitions. It wasn't. He was serious.

I watched Sean's (almost tearful-I swear) reaction to Evan Lysacek's gold medal performance with a mixture of shock and awe.

Then I asked the question that needed to be asked. "Um... ARE YOU FUR REAL?"

He swears it is just his passion for the olympic spirit that made him so excited for Evan, and I'm not one to judge.

Still, we all know what he was thinking when he was watching that competition....





Tee Hee

The best 15 dollars I've ever spent; And no, it's not a blanket with sleeves, but that would be pretty cool too.

Sean took the day off on Friday. We both really needed it. We took Kelan to Toys R Us and bought him some Play doh accessories. Did you know there is a Play Doh kit that allows you to build cool "guys"? What's that, you didn't? Well check this out!

Oh Yeah! Seriously, hours and hours of fun. Unless your life is a little more fast-paced... in that case you're out of luck.

Also, I feel the need to mention that Sean created the middle one.

I hope it's you and not me, trendy parents.

I know it is practically a sin to admit this, but I am scared I spelled my kid's name wrong.

Sean and I had kind of a hard time picking a name. It's not because we couldn't agree, more because our last name rules out a lot of cool first names. Let's just say after a couple nights of milk-coming-out-of-your-nose type laughing about possible names, Sean and I had to get serious and make a rule that the name could not be an adjective - which surprisingly cuts a large chunk out of the baby name pool.

So let me walk you through the process. It's 2007 and I'm pregnant. Sean is Irish. I think that's pretty cool and since I'm not really a huge percent anything, we decide to go with an Irish name for our progeny. I Google "Irish baby names."

Here's where it gets a little sticky. I love my parents, but apparently they weren't going the creative route with names. I went to a school with around 1700 kids. I'm pretty sure 500 of them were named Emily. I was once one of four Emilys in a class at school. I'm not going to lie, it got annoying being referred to as Emily D #2.

So, I'm online paging through names. Evidently, Irish is in. The page of A's is basically variations of Aiden. The B's Braedon, C's Caden... you get the picture. By the time I got to K's I was just tired, and frankly a little nervous. Then I saw Kelan. Irish, check. Not too popular, check. Not an overload of consonants, check. What? it means slender? Score! (that last one might have come from me feeling a bit down about my pregnancy weight gain). I texted Sean and fell asleep.

The name really grew on us. We did not question the spelling. I tend to think when it comes to naming a kid, the fewer letters the better. Now, I have no stake in what you name your kid. I don't have to pay for your kid's therapy if you spelled jessica Jysykka, or Caitlin K8tlyyn. It does however piss me off when it starts affecting me. So, no, Kelan is not a popular name. Keelon, Keely, Keegan and a million variations of those apparently are.

I cannot go to the doctor's office or make a frantic call to poison control without the nurse pronouncing his name wrong. After awhile, it starts to make me wonder if it is not them, it's me. Bummer. It plays on my insecurities.

Finally, after a final straw at the pharmacy - wherein, a clerk pronounced his name Keeelanne - I came home and hysterically questioned Sean, "Did we spell it wrong? Should we have added three L's just to be sure?" He, as usual, was unmoved by my panic.

Needless to say, I am brushing up on my phonics, lest this happen again someday.

I'm going to strangle that damn groundhog

Lately, once or twice a week Sean calls and tells me that he "might be a little late" and that I "should probably just start dinner." Even though he says it in the most polite, please-don't-yell-that-loudly-because-I-don't-want-my-cubicle-neighbor-to-hear-me-consoling-you voice, this is what I actually hear him saying :

"I know you have been stuck at home all day scraping Play Doh off the floor and pulling your hair out, and that you are probably on the verge of homicide, but guess what? YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN FOR DINNER AND BEDTIME SUCKA!"

So after I weep in the bathroom for a couple minutes sigh and smile about my silly husband and his salaried job, I run to the cupboard to see if there is something in a box or a can that I could possibly mix together. This is the moment when I glance longingly at the liquor bottle sized empty space in the cupboard. I fantasize about an early happy hour, but instead stick my kid in front of PBS with a bowl of crackers while I heat up a box of pasta and a jar of white sauce.

It's February. I'm over the snow. I'm over sharing a car. I'm over Wisconsin.

So let me be more succinct. We don't have liquor in our house because we have a two year old, and it's winter, and let's face it- interventions are just so cliche.

Geez, you turn your back for one second...

OK so I admit, I was totally checking my email while Kelan was coloring the other day. I mean come on, it was the first time he sat still all day.

I caught Kelan in the act and decided that step one should be to capture it on film. Because, obviously.

So you know that kid in your kindergarten class that just sat at the table with a blank paper eating the glue? Yeah, that would be my kid. You're welcome in advance for the memories, Kelan's future kindergarten class.

And before you go running to the phone to call CPS, those markers are non-toxic. Probably, right?

Nothing like a good old fashioned existential meltdown

I haven't been myself lately.

I guess one could argue that it has been for the past two years, but whatever the timeline, I am ready to be out of this funk. Which begs the question- how many quarter life crises is one person entitled to? Or is this still the first one?

Perhaps I should expand. I am freaking out. A little. OK a lot. I'm at a point where I kind of need to decide what's next, and I just can't seem to do it. One big factor is family planning. Sean and I had firmly decided to try for baby #2 this past fall. It seemed pretty perfect when we were planning it out. What's not to love right? A sibling for Kelan, we get to break out those teeny onesies, and get those professional pictures taken with the floppy headed sleeping newborn awwww...

It all seems so great, I just can't seem to grasp why the mere thought of seeing two lines on a stick has me in a cold sweat - dry heaving.

What is wrong with me? There is this huge world out there, and people with actual problems, and here I am awake at night wondering what people will think of me if I don't want to breastfeed ever again.

And there seems to be something so permanent about having two kids... like having one means that you are those casual parents who can still pretty much function without a complete lifestyle change and having more makes you that woman from the Suave commercial with all those kids hanging off her and the really messy hair...

I've seen people do it... I've seen people do it well, smiling as they have the one in the bjorn and the two in the stroller- and they somehow remember the pacifiers and the blankets, and the special foods that each kid likes, and that is what scares the crap out of me. I think I can't do that! I have a pile of laundry in the basement that is taller than my firstborn, I lost my library card twice last week. I barely get my crappy casserole on the table by seven each night!

So yeah- This is my life lately. One minute I feel utterly fulfilled and complete with my little family, and the next I want two more kids. One minute I love being a stay at home mom with all my heart, and the next I'm thinking of finishing school.

Maybe it's just the cabin fever.

Sorry for the overshare.

He's here

My new nephew Henry Cloy was born this Friday. He is 9lbs 9oz of healthy, adorable boy. Congratulations Sarah and Bill! He is a lucky kid.

I watched a lot of movies when the stomach flu went through our house

I love netflix instant play! It kept me sane this weekend.

Movies I loved
Sunshine Cleaning
Good Dick

Movies I liked but were depressing
Turtles can fly
Frozen River

Movies I wanted to like but didn't really
Rachel Getting Married
Nick and Norah's Infinite Play List

A movie that was weird and I fell asleep during
Loverboy

I'm not sure why I am sharing this but one of my New Year's resolutions (That I made at 8:00 p.m. because I was to ill to stay up any later) is to blog more.