The Fantastic Adventures of P and Z

Sniffle, schnuffle

2012-02-01T21:08:00.001-08:00

A little health woes update :). Zia and I have been unusually healthy this winter, only falling to mastitis. Until last weekend. When E was slated to go out of town to visit our dearest friend from college and his awesome hubby. Of course, Superman wouldn't leave town with me, and then the kids, falling sick. Poor Superman. No rest for the weary....

Zia has been a dream baby, sniffly or no. A couple of rough(er;) nights, but otherwise pretty happy. I stand in awe, every day, at what an entirely different experience this is compared to P's babyhood - and the beginning of Z's babyhood, too. Awe.

P has been uncharacteristically weepy of late. Seven is proving to be a fascinating age. Less sunny than six, more squirrelly too! Sensitive as the day is long. Transitions are easier in some ways - the physical changing of space. But emotional attachments, those transitions (say, losing a stick he'd been playing with for a few blocks, old fingernail trimmers breaking), those are earth shattering. Very interesting stuff... He's been unusually full of needs lately, a bottomless cup, and I need to figure out how to fill it... there doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day.

But his headaches are gone - so that's huge. He started having them every day a couple of weeks ago (before the concussion) - right when he started eating horribly. I tried to offer good options, but he was staunchly stuck on ice cream :). Finally, he grew tired of his head misery and gave up the goods. Instant improvement ;). I'm tickled he's enjoying good foods and feeling swell again. Now, if I can just get some good sleep and kick this cold, we can go on the playdates and adventures we've been skipping. And Superman can get his butt down to LA!

OMSI

2012-02-01T20:35:00.001-08:00

We took the bus to OMSI last week. I found the public transport and the museum outing happily doable with two. I just need to figure a way to carry Zia, the diaper bag, snacks and coats more comfortably. P loves the museums here, they are so much less busy and overwhelming than NYC's. He has requested the zoo for our next P and Z adventure!

A Big Sigh and a little Snow

2012-01-24T13:53:00.000-08:00

It snowed again last week. It was beeeautiful. For a couple of hours ;) Fortunately, P was up early enough to get in some playtime before it melted away. Unfortunately, the boys next door were at school and unavailable for play (P's used to snow days in NYC and all of the neighbor kids playing in a huge pile.) To top it off, Zia and I weren't particularly interested in a snowball fight first thing in the morning :( So P, always the problem solver, had us stand in the window and blasted us there. This was infinitely more fulfilling anyway, since he could hit his sister straight in her face without any guilt ;) She cackled, he cackled, it was all good.

Then he scored a carrot and corralled as much snow as he could to make Mount Hood (the neighboring ski slope) and a snow man.
Good times :)

Inside, he rediscovered BB's chateau and set it up in the living room. This totally demonstrates how P plays. He sets things up. In minute detail. Harry Potter Museums. Art shows. Totoro exhibits. Science experiment shelves. Even his castle. He very carefully places his battle boys in specific spots. We usually duel, one on one with these bad boys. But the other day, my character got a little aggressive and accidentally sent a passer-by flying, knocking over a couple of other players and toppling the castle tower. The Little Man fought back tears. Things were out of order, his perfect display was a mess. I felt awful, playing willy-nilly like I did as a child, forgetting how particular P is about his set-ups. I was much more careful when the Minotaur moved in next door to the chateau this week.

Meanwhile, we've had a huge leap of luck with Zia. I know sesame seeds give her insomnia. (I've tested them THREE times, hoping this was a joke. I would very much like them in my diet for a calcium source - and I just like sesame seed stuff;) I decided a couple weeks ago that hummus probably doesn't have enough sesame seeds in the tahini to make things tough. Ditto on baba ganoush. I mean, its got to be such a tiny amount, how could it even count?? So I've been enjoying these new foods and wondering why the baby can only catch tiny naps and sleep a couple of hours a night. Gee.... why???

Enter in head smack. Two days after giving up my hummus habit, Miss Z is taking her first real nap in a couple weeks. After clocking a decent number of hours in bed last night. Not only does this make for a happier baby, but the more focused attention that P gets during these naps makes for a happier seven year old. And that, well, that makes for a very happy Mama.

Zia's most favorite thing this week: her toes. She likes to lay bare butted on her sheepskin and fold herself in half, baby contortionist style, to suck on her toes. Kick, repeat, giggle.

Sweetness

2012-01-23T17:00:00.001-08:00

We had to grab something big n bulky from a nearby store today. I haven't mastered a back carry with Zia yet and figured I'd squish her wearing her on my front... Drat. Then I remembered we have P's ol' stroller!

Phoenix was SO excited for Zia to go on her first stroller ride :). I guess because he can access her there? He skipped along, holding onto her pram -then suddenly jumped with glee and shouted, "I LOVE HAVING A LITTLE SISTER!!!". lol.

A couple minutes later he stopped in his tracks and requested my phone. He wanted a picture of Miss Z on her first ride :).

4 Months

2012-01-20T13:33:00.000-08:00

Zia turned four months this week! I can't believe it (I know, I said that last time, right?) It simultaneously seems like she's always been with us and is brand new, if that makes any sense...

Today probably isn't the best day for me to do an update... I'm crabby to beat the band. But I'll try and remember all of the sweet things that make me squee all of my other lucky days :)

No new tricks this month, really, just major improvements on last months celebrations. The laundry list: She's getting better with her hands (though she's still as likely to knock something over and, thus, away from herself as she is to bring it successfully to her mouth - which makes her less than thrilled ;) She rolls over like she's breathing. What took concentration and determination is now a quick flop. (The downside to this? She has started trying to lick/eat the carpet and she's so quick these days that she typically gets in a nice chomp before I can scoop her up. I know, I know, for gawd's sake, woman! Toss down a blanket!) She even perched up on her knees a few times... and then face planted - eek! She has signed for "milk" quite a few times, but not reliably. She babbles, a lot. The ECing comes and goes. Some days we nail it and only have a few dipes to wash, other days we barely have enough dipes to make it through all of our misses :) I'm assuming its a work in progress, or that's what I tell myself each and every miss...

I think what I'm finding most astounding at this point is her (typically, not today, of course;) contentment. Yes, she squeals and grunts to let us know we're not doing something as she prefers, and every once in a while we get it so wrong that there may be a tear. But, typically, she's just a happy baby. She will lay on the floor while I grab a quick shower before the sun comes up. Never letting out a single discouraged peep (an astonishing feat in my book, since P was, oh, about 6 before he didn't mind that sort of separation. I'm not kidding. At all.) She often sits on my lap while I eat and just watches the diner table gab. (We took turns eating for, like, 3 years with P. Fer realz.) She's happy to be tossed on the floor for a bit after she wakes up and I pop her out of my wrap so she can pee. She talks to herself and rolls around, totally happy. Then I can toss in laundry or slam some dishes into the washer (its amazing what a woman can accomplish in 7 minutes with no baby on her body.) If she starts to fuss, P typically tromps over with a "Ziiiiiaaaaa. Ziiiiiiaaaa - what's the matter? Huh?" And then he makes funny faces and she cackles.

P was not content on the floor. Out of my arms. Off of my breast. Content, in fact, was not a word we ever used with P when he was an infant. So this is a whole new ball game for me.

The days she's not content are days I've tried a new food that didn't' set so well. And this makes me feel (again) so badly for P, that I didn't' realize the source of his discontent. Then Zia doesn't want to be put down either. Doesn't want to sleep. Eat. Doesn't want Papa. Just doesn't in general.

But those are rare now that I'm getting her allergies nailed (I remind myself, today:) And I'm consistently amazed at how happy of a baby she is. In fact, when she gets tired in the evening, she gets totally slap happy. Its hilarious. She laughs at everything (if I'm holding her). And then she crashes ;) But its typically quick and painless and with only gentle bounces...

There. I hope that all sounded fabulously positive. I should go back and reread it to get out of my current schlump. Caused by a complete lack of sleep. That's a collective lack, by the way. A family sized lack. Zia has been staying up until 10ish, getting up at 5ish and then only grabbing another couple hours (at most) during the day in tiny (sometimes 5 minute) increments. And the seven whole hours she spends in bed at night are restless and full of nursing and flopping and farting sessions. Each day I grow more sleep deprived, and each day requiring almost all day dedication to two at once, awake at the same time, only wears me out more. Meanwhile, P has decided he cannot be in the bedroom when E or I are not present. So he, too, is staying up late and rising in the dark. A seven year old with bags under his eyes cannot possibly be anything other than clingy, demanding and easily upset. (Although I think he may be behaving a bit better than me...) So not only am I bonecurlingly tired, but the children are positively full of extra needs this week. And awake to graciously share those needs for a whole 17 hours straight!

To top it all off with a big red bow, P's gut has gotten so out of whack (headaches, tummy upset, only wants to eat ice cream - all precipitated by having to take antibiotics a while back :( ) that he started asking to go back on the GAPS. (Remember that? We tried it a year ago for E? My mother giddily shared a story when we were home for a visit. The Little Man was walking through the health food store with her and pointed to a food and said something to the extent of "I ate that when I was on that fucking GAPS diet. I hated that.") Apparently he hates feeling yucky even more, as he has, of his own volition, given up sugar and wheat and dairy.... So I'm cooking crazy again. (Crazier?) And its rained all week (a first for us here), so we've been inside all 17 hours a day, enjoying each other's hunger pangs and whininess...

How, you ask, is she then blogging? After all, seems she's got her hands pretty full with her pity trip. Lean in for today's dirty secret. I have reached the bottom. We walked (in the rain) to the library and got DVDs. I know, unschoolers worship the DVD. '70's parents didn't think twice about the betamax. Me? I'm a funky Waldorf-unschooly mix, and I dislike almost every message I've met meant for the little guys that Hollywood hacks hand out. But today? Bring'em on. Even if all hell breaks loose again in a bit, P giggling at a show while Zia naps on my lap and I carve out a couple of guilty me minutes on the blog - yah, that'll be enough to weather through the later...

WORD.

2012-01-17T16:53:00.000-08:00

Winter has finally hit here in the Northwest. We had the most beautiful snowfall this morning featuring the biggest flakes known to mankind. Amounted to nothing, of course, cuz it just isn't cold enough down in the city. But it was pretty. P and I watched it out the window, facing his BFF's window, where the neighbor boys also stared up at the sky. It was a sweet moment.

Zia has been teething, or growth spurting or food reacting or somethinging lately, so we've been playing it mellow yellow. Our food options are starting to wear thin on us all (except for Superman, for whom repetition matters not). It strikingly difficult to find meals that are balanced and that all of us enjoy (not to um, point any fingers at the seven year old...) that don't have eggs or tomatoes or potatoes or beef or dairy or corn... And I'm realizing just how much I cooked with tomatoes before Zia. (P's never met a tomato dish he didn't like.) So, now the seven year old seems picky, but really, he's just done with chicken and carrots. I'm still trying a new food every four days, but its so freakin hard to tell what's food and what's just her being tired or teething or boogery. At this point, we're just relying on her butt and her spit-up to clue us to how things work. But she's out of sorts for sure, so I'm stepping back a few weeks and going basic again. Baby steps :)

P's been having a fun time hibernating the last week. He received some spy stuff for Christmas and loves slinking around setting traps and shooting light into the dark. (Like the time he snuck his tripwire alarm upstairs and placed it outside E's office. Ethan takes work very seriously. He works extra hours every day, usually doesn't count his hours on the weekends and doesn't take breaks but to pee. P knows this all too well and decided seeing Papa during said pee break would be brilliant. When E walked out of his office to wee, the whole house knew ;) E about fell over from laughing and P got a quick hug, making his spy stuff treasured stuff:)

And the kids continue to play together. P is thrilled she is interested in toys. I'm pretty sure he seriously overstimulated her the first night he brought her objects to hold :) And Zia freakin LOVES laughing at P. And he loves to make people laugh. Its a good combo. Its funny to me, since he was such a serious baby and toddler, to see him being such a ham these days. This morning, attempting to distract her from the torture of nail trimming, he was making funny faces. Suddenly he crossed his arms into an "X", concentrated for a second, and proclaimed "WORD."

Oh Em Gee. I died. I had no idea where he'd seen that and his attempt to get it right was hilariously sweet. When I took a breath, I asked him where he'd seen that. "A preview. Is it alright I did it?" (We've had looooong chats about movies and real life appropriateness:) When I told him yup, he did it again. And again. And again. I was laughing so hard I was crying. So was he. Zia, she wasn't quite so sure ;)

But until this week, we've been out and about every weekend and loving our weekly walks. Zia's hatred of the car is extreme, and P's devotion to riding the bike grew when he devised a BB sled (a muffin tin, reinforced with duck tape, with a crayon BB drawn in the middle all safety pinned to some pink yarn and a reflector ribbon) to follow us as we pedal about the city. Rain or shine, he's happy to jump on the back of the bike and listen to BB bump down the road. See video above :)

Fun and first hospital runs

2012-01-09T12:17:00.000-08:00

Let's see if I can knock out a quick one before they wake (her from her first nap, him from the night. I LOVE it when they get the rare sleeping overlap!!! I can go a week straight without actually getting even two seconds of down time (I'm not exaggerating here - and I'm not complaining, just sayin' ;) and that makes a quiet 5 minutes really luscious.)

Little Z is getting so Big! She luuuuvs to lounge on the sheepskins we have piled by the fire. And seeing her stretched out across my lap - she seems So Long. But then I see her in E's arms, or look down on her napping in my wrap and and I'm overwhelmed by how totally tiny she is. So dependent and breakable. It boggles my mind.

Napping after coming in from a walk. My thumb is almost as big as her nose. It takes up her whole cheek. She's like a tiny doll. Constantly bigger, but still so little. Its fun.

Speaking of tiny and breakable... P seems So Big these days. His face is changing. He looks older, stands taller. Overflows my lap. I love it when something strikes me and he still seems small (like the other day, when he was bashing the wall with his feet and I commented "That kind of wall is breakable." He stopped. Then a second later he asked, "What kind of rock is it again?" Hehehe. Apparently he'd heard us call it "sheetrock.") But really, in the spectrum of things, he is still small, and I soooo don't want to forget that and start in with yucky expectations... But I digress.

P typically bounces. He's not that breakable. I mean, he falls, and tumbles and bonks a LOT. Cuz he's really busy and kinda dare devilish and E and I just aren't those protective (physically at least;) parents. And he gets bruised. A lot. But he bounces. I can't even count the number of times I've shoved a flashlight at his eyes to check his pupils. Seriously. But this time when I did it, they were a little off :(

So, after face-planting off the bed (there was some wrastling involved, some foot-sweeping, some flying...) we watched him for the afternoon. He was so lethargic. And his head was horribly hurting. He answered slowly and was just, basically, out of it. Then he started barfing. E, having been bonked and stitched up a trillion times as a kid was still pretty laissez-faire about the whole thing. Me, not so much. Obviously, I'm not the sort to run to the doctor (for which my brothers chastised me after my last birth...) But, he was realllllly off. And its the regret I fear. So I sent them off into the night to the children's hospital. Devastated that I couldn't go with the Little Man. When he asked me to, I felt awful telling him I couldn't, that I had to stay with Zia. I don't want them to ever feel like I'm choosing one over the other :( But I think he understood when I told him she was just too little to go into a hospital and all of those germs.

The doctors, apparently, were superb. The experience, late evening on a Saturday night in a big city, was serene. I'm soooo glad they didn't just go to a plain' ol ER with its car crashes and whatnot. The kid got a bed and a blanket and was offered TV or crayons or books (he chose Papa's stories (Nibble stories being his favorite thing on earth) instead.) They checked him over and over and over and then wanted to do a CT. E, having done more than his fair share of post-cancer scans was well aware of the radiation this would mean. Fortunately, they offered to just watch him for the night instead and actually applauded our choice when we went that way. Telling E most parents choose the CT rather than the night in the chair by the hospital bed. I was, once again, so thankful for such a superb partner.

The first time they woke P to do his neuro tests... he wouldn't' wake up for forever... and E said it felt awful. But the kid was just in a reeeeally deep sleep :) He's all fine and they sent him home to be watched for the next week. The next morning when he came downstairs the very first thing he did was to dangle from the top of the stair railing over the 5 foot drop below. Yeesh. I tried to request a moratorium on crazy for the next week without sticking too much fear into the equation ;) Then we had a celebratory post-concussion day (Zia and I went out early and got P a favorite thing - flowers - for a little welcome home happiness) Bagels and pizza and garlic oil pasta (P's faves) and movies and not jumping around :)

7 is kinda squirrelly. P, with stick in mouth...

Just a couple of pic updates:

Baby girl in her bumbo. She is getting all handsy and wants to grab everything. When there's nothing to grab, she just grabs herself :)

Zia luuuuuvs looking at the boys. Papa gets huge gummy grins and Phoenix is most constantly observed. Carting her on my hip while making lunch the other day, it hit me, put her in front of P! So I did and wow. She was more than content to watch him play the whole time I cooked. Two might be busier than one, but they also keep each other busy (cuz P loves an audience:). Love it!

Waking up to greet the day. The baby is freaking full of smiles first thing. Having a wee one that isn't constantly pissed off by food allergies is So FUN!!!

Today, P is cracking me up (yes, I did not finish the post before he woke up). He is carefully asking if just about everything active is ok. "So I can swing in my swing, but I shouldn't jump off of the chair onto my swing? I can dangle over the wall or...?" And telling me every little bodily quirk. "My arms feel weaker. Ok?" And "I bumped my head on the back of the chair. But not hard.... Ok?"

I'm glad he's attempting to be careful (not his usual strong suit:) But I hope he forgets all about it in another week so he can go full throttle again!

Awwwww. Thanks EC.

2012-01-03T07:08:00.000-08:00

P didn't want Zia and I to go to bed yesterday until he'd had a good snuggle.

A dear friend told me that when the kids start playing together, well, its a whole new level of happiness in a Mama's heart. And she was So right. I figured I had a couple of years to wait for this gem of joy, but the last week brought us the best holiday present ever.

Zia's development this week (its amazing how at this age, you can count the changes in a day - its mesmerizing really) truly put her on P's radar. She started trying to sit up. Which is heeelarious, really. Because, (she's only 3 months old) much like her attempts at crawling, she's just too damn little :) But she wants to see it all. So she started heaving her huge baby head up whenever I'd lay her in her little rocker. She'd rocket herself forward to a mostly sitting position... which she could only hold for a teeny bit, and then she'd drop back in exhaustion. Repeat. Repeat, repeat. P and I would just laugh. And then, when her little baby abs were apparently tired but still trying, P would help her. Awww.

Zia, sitting up to watch the world.

So after much, much internal debate, I picked up a Bumbo off of Craigslist. I won't bore you with my maternal angst, I'll just say its working, Really freaking well, for us. Since she was getting less and less happy with her view from the floor and there are times I can't hold her safely (ummm, think chef knife and huge butternut squash that needs dicing...) she is fabulously content to stare at her toes from her new seated position. And this, P LOVES. She seems so much more "kid" sitting. Then he does "baby entertainment" and dances, hops and growls to make her giggle. Which she does. I love seeing her smile at him. And he watches her, I catch him watching her, with the strangest little smile on his face.

In addition to her independent seating, she started using the potty. Big, big brownie points in P's book. Now that she's not shrieking all day anymore (well, we did have a couple of days last week after I posted but before the dairy worked its way out of our system that she cried and spit up and hiccuped and refluxed almost all day, each day - poor baby!!! Methinks we found the main culprit for those early days of misery...) P's only complaints post crying-jags are based on body fluids. He's not fond of the drool or the diaper dumps. (In fact, after her first huge, ummm, bizness, I exclaimed out loud, I was so, erm, impressed. P came running to see what the excitement was and instantly backed away, gagging, "I think I'm going to throw up." I chuckled and continued wiping tushie. But what did I hear? Poor little P, throwing up. For reals! Yah, really not fond of poo that P;) So, doing her duty out of her diapers has totally helped their bond.

And I'm surprisingly enjoying the ECing too. She's in between snap sizes on her infant Kissaluvs, so I figured I'd finally jump into the ECing, kinda guessing I'd be a failure and run back to the cloth dipes as soon as her thighs chunked up to the next snaps. I imagined days covered in urine and poo on the floor from me missing her cues. So color me happy with shock that its so freaking natural for babies that she's slowly teaching me how to take her to the bathroom rather than spend hours at the changing table. Heck, even E is doing it! The first couple of evenings he requested a regular wool cover over the questionably covering prefold. But handing her off this weekend, bum just barely covered in a prefold, he tried taking her to her potty and... she peed for him! Then a little later, she poo'd for him! Unfortunately, we've only figured out her poo cue (grunting and a look of concentration) and are just taking her to pee based on timing and when she seems to squiggle and want it. Which works great when we're holding her since she totally won't pee on us (yes, I'm still flabbergasted. I'd read it. I'd seen it in other kids. I wasn't sure I believed it. Its true.) But if we toss her on the floor, she's bound to whiz, and I can't tell what cue I'm missing... But its only been 4 days, so I'm guessing she'll figure out how to tell us pretty soon :)

She also started grabbing things. My dinner plate's days are numbered. And she's enjoying P's hair as handlebars. So he tries handing her toys and jumps with joy when she holds it or shakes it for a second before dropping it - always more interested in what her brother is doing than whatever she's holding. They love to hold hands and just grin at each other.

Dinosaur peekaboo (she addddddores peekaboo) Good thing she seems pretty tame to growls and big ol boy raucousness... (Oh! And, old story I keep forgetting to journal. The pink butterfly bassinet? My mom went to pick us up a nice white one when she was here to help. P went with. No, no, he said when he saw her grab the dull white. We need the pink butterfly one because, and I quote, "Its pretty like my sister." :)

So our delight this lusciously long holiday weekend was watching the kids watch each other. And this weekend, joining us downstairs after waking up, the very first thing he said was to ask if we'd seen Zia yet. (I was kinda confused, since she was asleep in the wrap on my front. Maybe he was so used to seeing me with the enormous green growth that he'd forgotten my actual stature?!) No, he clarified, had we seen her awake yet? How was she?

Now E just has to come to terms with P carting her around (insert sheer look of horror from Superman). Cuz the Little Man is really ready for the whole big brother role...

Holiday cheer

2011-12-29T10:09:00.000-08:00

Well, the upside to a baby waking freakishly early one morning is that she is already down for a nap before the sun (or my son) rises, giving the Mama a minute to blog. If only I drank coffee or something, seems like a moment to enjoy that sort of thing ;)

Speaking of consuming, quick update. I tested wheat this weekend and she seemed to handle it with a big ol' shrug. No noticeable difference at all! This was soooo huge for us, since gluten lurks everywhere. This success went right to our heads and three days later, much urged by my dairy lovin' boys, I added cheese. While her behavior is still sunny, her bizness was pretty crazy yesterday. E, rarely the optimist around here, claimed coincidence and urged more dairy :) Since we weren't dealing with all day shrieking or even bloody stools, I complied and am hopeful that today's bizness will be back to normal.... At any rate, I really think her digestive system is finally maturing and we may be back to (semi;) normal soon. Ahh:) (Update - since I have yet to publish this post: Looks like I'll be dairy free for a while longer. After 2 days of dairy, Zia was pretty miserable, her acid reflux was back and she would not be put down for a minute. But there was little shrieking, so its still a lot better :) I think I'll try again in another month, once her digestive system has a little longer to develop...)

Now a quick xmas update:)

After sucking the light fantastic for Halloween (greatest guilt inducer that holiday? You know, the holiday that my kid looks forward to alll year, the one he'd dreamed of having a house to decorate in celebration of for years, the one I barely made it out the door for...) was walking the excited 7 year old, (donned in last year's costume) to meet his buddies for trick-or treating, only to be met at the door by FOUR homemade costumes. Fully tailored. And a bunch of fun holiday crafts just lurking inside the front door. I hope P didn't feel as deflated as I did.) Anyway, after sucking for Halloween, I was bound and determined to get Solstice and Xmas nailed. So, as the child pathetically gathered fallen evergreen branches during our nature walk (to build himself a Christmas tree...) I swore to make this dream come true and get a real damn tree this year. (He had informed me his ficus wouldn't cut the mustard this time around ;)

I even offered a tree cutting experience at a no-spray farm owned by some unschoolers up here. But we quickly realized a baby screaming in her car seat would undermine the holiday spirit and just walked to the store across the street ;) Phoenix pointed out that our new tree had many more branches than his ficus, necessitating more branch bling. And lights, of course. He was beside himself decorating the thing. And thrilled with his results.

I'm a fairly big Scrooge concerning this crazy consumerist holiday - I mean, we aren't even Christian! But even I had to admit that the glow and the gorgeous smell were pretty sweet :) And the kid was delighted, kudos enough for me.

Santa was questioned to the hilt this year. I dodged in style. He asked the jolly elf for a stuffed minotaur. Then he told me he should ask for something else, but not tell me what he wanted, so if it wasn't under the tree from Santa, then he'd know. I said ok. Downbeat. "Maybe we'll do that next year, Mama." :) Then he informed me that if he received the one he had seen at a store, he'd know it was a ruse. I had to laugh at my luck. The one he'd seen was no longer carried by any merchants, freakin' anywhere. So I'd gone to my favorite gift giving entity, etsy. Whalah, handmade minotaur with groovy gold eyelashes (perfect for P!) It totally looks elvin made.

So I told him to wait and see what Santa and his elves produced and then make his decision. He was visibly relieved that it wasn't the widely sold doll Christmas morning. But not quite satisfied. All day he asked. E finally told him that it was us, Santa isn't real. Know what he did? He came up and hit E!

"Are you frustrated I told you Santa isn't real, bud?" E asked him. "Yes."

And off he marched to the tree. He stood there for a minute. He still soooo wants to believe. When he asked again a second later, we lied like the good parents we want to be :) He didn't ask again for the rest of the day. Gawd help me, I hate this holiday.

But it was fun giving him woodworking tools. He has a great little toolbox now with a hand drill, saw, screwdrivers, detail hammers, clamps and the sweetest cloth measuring tape on a wheel that I've ever seen. Now we just have to set him up a spot on the porch with some wood and clock how long it takes to get to the Emergency room...

Solstice was lovely this year. We took a late afternoon walk to watch the sun go down, thanking the world that the days would get longer :) We gathered pinecones to decorate with nut butter and seeds to hang from our apple tree for the animals to appreciate during the winter. And we revelled in the greenness here even on the first day of winter. A rose bush was still full of blossoms - I kid you not. I mean, its chilly here most days, and not green like the spring, of course, but its So Beautiful compared to the bland brown and grey of Kansas or New York. I had expected the rain to set in by the time we returned and only leave come summer. And while the ground is damp and I hear rain on the roof at night, we're out each day with the sun peaking through the clouds and the beauty boundless. I'm thinking my gypsy heart could bear to settle here for a bit....

Solstice walk

I spoke too soon....

2011-12-22T20:53:00.001-08:00

Ha. I felt all capable for about two seconds before the Universe pulled the rug out and chuckled heartily. Life with two for most of this week was.... hhhhhard. Zia seems to have reacted to my egg eating after all and deteriorated over the course of a week. The rash stuck around, her nightime sleep went to hell, and after a few nights of sleeplessness, her naps went to shit too. "School" and crafting during all day screaming, not so much :(. Poor P, poor Z.

I've gone back to the bare minimums for food and am caught... Bad weeks knock me down - its extra hard with so little sleep for me to be on top of my game for P while simultaneously helping Z. And I hate sucking:). So I'm tempted to not add any foods for forever... and yet tempted to go for another biggie: wheat. I'm bummed about tomatoes and eggs, but wheat, well, that might make up for things;).

Everyone is better by tonight - the boys are both voting for me to get some balls and add something in tomorrow.. What? Tired of chicken?!

The kids (and P's Solstice gift - a handmade "life size" BB) enjoy a boat ride after breakfast...

Life with two...

2011-12-18T09:14:00.000-08:00

I've heard two is more than twice as hard. Yup. But more than twice as nice? Yup again :) Still, I feel like I'm just now getting to life with two. The first month my mom was saving our ass keeping P's life lucky. Then there was the lost month of crying (when I began to believe two was more than two hundred times harder and going to be more than I could ever succeed at...) Then there was the month in Kansas when P could run around with whatever awesome family member requested his presence (or, in my mom's case, he just stalked her all day:)

Now we're home and I'm trying to get our groove on. Giving each one what they need is a tricky dance for me. I tend to try and saturate a child, feeling really guilty if I can't do something for them. For me and unschooling, saying yes wasn't the trick. Learning when to honestly say "no, I can't" has been the trick. Pregnancy helped me nail that one, since I just couldn't do so much. A tough pregnancy was a real blessing here, prepping P for less, or at least different, Mama status. I am infinitely thankful for that, in hindsight ;)

But less Mama floor tussling and toy tossing isn't the only change for him these days. Our ability to do anything, anytime is gone. For a while at least ;) I started realizing over the last couple months that the free-flow of our unschooling days might leave P feeling like he's drifting in open seas of negligence rather than just free now. He needs reliability and rhythm to his days. Solid times with Mama he can depend on. And since babies tend to be fussiest in the evenings, combined with the business of dinner and dishes, E's post-work availability didn't really solve the situation.

So we're crafting our asses off. I've set up a craft for each day of the week. I've tried to make at least one, if not two, depend on something from the outdoors, so we also have a couple of nature walks a week on the nicest days.

One of our walks this week. Flowers in December. Love it.

Despite the deciduous dropping their leaves, its still crazy green.

No Brooklyn duckies here. These guys came up towards us as we went down to the pond.... and walked right past us to forage in the woods! No joke. Apparently, they aren't every toddler's past time here...

Must I point out how many photos I have of the child throwing stuff into bodies of water???

And we're learning to read. (Why we? I mean P :) The Little Man has started requesting reading help. He's ready. The age is perfect, in my mind (though I'm totally comfortable with an even later reader. I figure, once you start reading, you can't undo it. From then on, your life is seen through words. Covers (books, cereal, whatever) are no longer pictures and design and color, they are w.o.r.d.s. Everything else takes a backseat to the mind jumping to translate the words. And I don't want to rush that - there's a LOT to be learned translating the world in all of the other ways kids can. Even in pre-reading ways, like general word shape, location, basic memorization, etc.) So, for us, there has been an appreciation of just loving non-reading and all of its visual gifts. But there is also the research that supports this so splendidly. And real life examples, like the fabulousness of Finland, where they don't start reading until 7. Or the Waldorf way, also starting the reading journey at 7.

But most importantly, there is P. And his preference to start just now :) So we do about 20 minutes of reading readiness stuff every day (P calls it "playing school") while Zia hangs off of me for her afternoon nap, before our craft. And P jumps for joy each time I say its time :) I started with the most basics of basics (the letters) despite his seeming ability to read quite a few words, so there aren't any gaps that later frustrate him. He loves it. We'll see if he feels the same way when we venture into unchartered territory.

So it seems that two may be possible. At least while Zia is still napping a bit and not mobile ;) Healthy foods are on the table and the Little Man is eating well again (for a few weeks it was a sad state of affairs. I couldn't' get food together and he was eating crap which led to eating even crappier:) We're getting out to enjoy the gorgeous Pacific Northwest (even if its just to the amazing park up the block and the sidewalk to the store). The kid is getting solid Mama time, and projects that spawn (of course) even more projects. And when I need to change Zia or bounce her to sleep (yes, she still only goes to sleep if I bounce around like a ding-dong, but it takes a much shorter period of time and there's rarely loud shrieks:) the kid's cup is (relatively) filled and he doesn't blink an eye. Phew.

And this means I'm not wracked with guilt every night. Cuz I tend that way :)

Zia: 3 Months (almost:)

2011-12-17T17:07:00.000-08:00

Either I do this now, a couple days early or.... who knows when!

I absolutely can't believe her newborn phase will be over in two days. Except for that month that we didn't know about the food issues (those few weeks seemed to have no beginning or end;) this period has absolutely flown. Too fast. Ethan and I are savoring every single tiny squiggly snuggle. And while I'm excited to see her personality emerging and meet the little girl she is going to be, it makes me a little sad to think of her as not baby. It sounds silly, I know. But E agreed. Its such a sweet period, its impossible to imagine it ending.

And at this rate, it doesn't seem like we have that long left. She seems hell bent on catching up to her big bro. She adores her favorite trick (flipping onto her belly) so much she attempts to do it, regardless of location. Then she raises up as high as she can get and squeals with happiness, surveying the kingdom she was missing while lying flat on her back. She flaps her arms and legs and does a little belly airplane and then claws at the floor, trying to propel herself along. When this fails, she rolls belly over back over belly or back to her back and scooches. I'm seeing baby-proofing in our very near future :(

She is such a different baby than P was (who was awesome in his own way:) that its shocking to me. He hated to be put down for an instant (Zia loves a little floor time, is totally content to talk at us from the floor and suck on her hand). Hated his diaper changes (she LOVES her diaper changes. LOVES). Rarely ever smiled (Zia has the most responsive social smile - it makes me smile just thinking about it). Strangers used the words "serious," "intense," and "old soul," for him and his long stares. Zia smiles and coos and looks everywhere and gets "alert," "sweet!" and "sooo sweet."

And she really is. (Actually, she was crazy "alert" from the get-go. It seems to just be her personality type - to look and look. The night she was born, after her head made its entrance but her shoulders were awaiting the next contraction, her eyes were already open and I could feel her head turning, back and forth, round and round like a little owlet. She was already looking around our room, scoping out her new life. ( Which I get, because I find ridiculous amounts of joy in just. looking. Shadows, shapes, curves, patterns, contrasts. I think its half the reason I'm an artist.) I feel so bad that we didn't figure out P's triggers at this age, because its amazing to see what a difference it can make in a baby. Poor kid was too miserable to be labeled sweet :)

But Zia isn't miserable (anymore). She's laughing. Typically, at her brother. He yucks it up, bouncing off of the walls, making funny faces, and she just laughs and laughs. I make snorting noises when I kiss her neck and she just giggles. But, her giggles aren't really baby peals as much as old lady smoker guffaws. Its kinda funny.

And speaking of her voice, she uses it all. of. the. time. Yah, she coos and goes "gah" and stuff and sometimes E positively melts. But I really love seeing her try and "talk" rather than just cry. Its way fun after her rough beginning that she goes days without crying. She just gives us warning fusses. Like, "hey, I'm getting pissed here... just warnin'" And if she is on the floor and starts to get agitated and I'm caught without my wrap on (a rarity, but it happens when I change in and out of my pajamas ;), all I have to do is walk up to her and say, "You want in the wrap, Zia?" and wave that green fabric over her and she stops fussing and smiles and waits patiently while I wrap myself up for her. When I realized how well she understood things a couple of weeks ago, I started asking her, "milk? You need some milk?" when she fussed and I thought she might be hungry. Within two days she would quiet when I said this if she was actually hungry. She's nowhere near to having the physical control to sign yet (unfortunately!) but this is a real help in trouble shooting since she is also nowhere near a scheduled feeder :)

And speaking of food. We've added a few foods in the last month: green beans, pumpkin seeds, beef, and cranberries. And this week I added (drum roll): eggs. Big, Big deal here. She did seem to get a little face rash, but that was it, so I think eggs in stuff should be fine and she'll be good with them soon enough. Yams, potatoes, tomatoes, apricots and salmon didn't work as well and the vote is still out on kale. But onward and upward :) If I can just be patient enough to wait 4 days for each new food. This whole ordeal is so good for my self-control. And probably for my health too. I'm able to go on tiny bits of sleep, busy all day without sitting down or taking any breaks and I still feel great. Hell, I've even grown to love millet. And found that amaranth popped is a nice snack. And that mustard makes everything better. And an apple tastes (after being totally sugar free for over two months) unbelievably sweet for dessert. I really only yearn for the ease of eating out occasionally. And maybe a little more variety ;)

Last three month detail - per usual for babies this age, she is staying awake a Lot longer during the day. And she's starting to nap in at least semi-consistent times. Give or take a couple of hours ;) but getting an at least general schedule down. Two short naps in the morning and one longer one in the afternoon, followed by a dinnertime cat-nap and then to bed sometime between 8 and 11. So, obviously not a reeeeal solid routine, but its getting there :)

Little woodland napper on a walk.

My only complaint is her nighttime gas. Holy gosh. The kid is so tooty halfway through the night that she thrashes to beat the band. Scratches herself, wakes me every five minutes. I don't' know what's causing it or what would help her. If anyone reading this has ANY suggestion, please comment with the cure...

But bottom line: this age is awesome. All consuming and adorable and absolutely wonderful.

Freakshow flyers, take two...

2011-12-15T15:34:00.000-08:00

I'm not doing so hot on the weekly posts I promised myself... Lots of pics piling up here that I want to journal! Now I just need time! Lol.

We made it back. But with a few bumps ;) I figured the baby would be rough, turns out the seven year old had the hardest time :(

P is a pro traveller. Seriously, pro. But he started with a headache at the Wichita airport... I shrugged it off as hunger (he hadn't eaten well all day) or sinus (he's still stuffy from his last cold). But when Grandpapa rubbed P's back and P pushed him away, I was shocked. Sooooo not P. And definitely not P with one of his favorite people on earth. Moments later as we tried to go through security, he was almost falling apart (and the baby decided she was suddenly starving)...

By the time we were half way to Denver, he had spiked a high fever and was the picture of pale misery. By the time we landed in Denver, the child was in tears. By the time we made it it our gate (after hovering by trash cans and carried by Superman) he was actually wailing. The child never cries in public. He (sadly) hates to even cry in front of E. I was seriously shocked and a bit worried. His head hurt him so badly he was nauseous and clambered onto my lap. Not one for most meds, I sent Superman on a serious hunt for Ibuprofen.

Drugged and lethargic, P patiently waited for our next flight. That was delayed. And delayed again. Zia decided she needed to be bounced non-stop, so this was actually a blessing.

After dragging our carry-ons, kids and cat onto a full flight, the child dazed out... only to barf half way across country. (Fortunately, seeing his face, I'd already stuck a barf bag in front of him. Honestly, I'd always wanted to see somebody use one of those things. Childhood curiosity checked off of the list ;) The baby didn't' have any interest in sleeping, each announcement woke her all day. So she flirted and cooed at passengers until she was miserable and finally zonked. Until the next announcement.

And after doing a stellar job of holding her poo all day, she finally erupted with business as we landed. Which necessitated a quite lengthy cleaning and changing job in the bathroom. Which meant the evening announcement for "Passengers arriving from Denver on Frontier airlines, please pick up your baggage, Frontier is closing" was meant for us :) (Insert mental image of as many carry-ons as possible flopping behind two people carrying kids (and a quite pissed cat). At top speed, through an empty airport.) And you know how much I love Portland? When we got to the empty baggage area, the lady thanked us for coming to get our bags. In a sincere way. People are just freakin' nice here (not that Brooklyn didn't have its perks, just saying').

And then we made it home. Intact ;) You know, I had three separate people come up to me with pitying remarks that day. (Sweetly put pitying remarks, like, "Oh, you must be exhausted.") But I have to admit, I was surprised each time. Writing it out like this it sounds a bit nightmarish (and I love a little flair for written drama), but it was actually a pretty nice family outing. Really. I just love my family so freakin much, getting to spend the day with all three, squished up next to them where they can't get away from me, its pretty sweet :)

BFFs...

2011-12-08T14:58:00.001-08:00

Every day, P chooses some new dream of Zia's future that excites him. Crawling, running, rock climbing, signing, talking... My favorite from this week? "I'm excited for when Zia is big and you say to me, 'Phoenix, go call Artemisia to dinner!'". (He luuuuvs getting to tell E to stop working, it's dinnertime :)

So, when Zia decided this week that all of that lovely smiling time spent on her back was boring, P was Thrilled. (**Everything** is one step closer to ~playmate~ :)

So she flips herself over, raises her chest and shrieks with happiness. But the girl wants to move. And, obviously, at 11 weeks, she's not going anywhere :). She pushes with her little feet and tries to yank forward with her hands, to no avail. But P is there to cheer her on! And this morning, as she did her tricks during a diaper change, P instructed me to "help her Mama!! She's trying to get to me! Show her how to crawl!".

Not yet, dear son :). I'm loving me some newborn squishiness for a twitch longer;)

Fingers and Toes - oh my!

2011-12-06T14:28:00.001-08:00

I laid Zia down in an upholstered chair for a minute the other day and when I turned back around she had one of those awesome "OMG AHHA!" faces on. The texture of the chair clicked in her wee brain and you could just tell - she now gets touch. How can watching these moments be this satisfying?!?! Love it!

This makes me happy...

2011-12-04T19:30:00.001-08:00

Food, Formula and Freedom

2011-11-27T14:41:00.000-08:00

I started testing foods last week. I was so excited. After living on millet, rice, turkey, chicken, apples, avocado, squash and carrots for 7 weeks, I was jonesing for, well, almost anything;). And what better time for new foods than Thanksgiving? I would be infinitely thankful...

But beef brought lots of bitching and yams led to all out yells. By the Wednesday night before Tday, I was in tears of self-pity. Traditionally, I would have had a host of yummies prepared for the following day. But thanks to the damn yams, the baby had not embodied the spirit if cooperation, and I had only managed to leave flours and butter warming on the cabinet all day. Fine, fine, the boys could piggy-back on everyone else's victuals, but I guessed both meals would be devoid of millet. And the turkeys would likely sport a butter basting. Bah.

But everything is better after a night's sleep (even a nursed through night's sleep!) and apples and avocado were easily acceptable amid the next morning's excitement to leave. Heck, I would look at it as a freeing technique. A sweet little challenge along the road to "no expectations." Why couldn't Tday just be about family and thanks? Apples and avocados? Screw pies and stuffing!

Zia and I weathered the tasty filled tables, buoyed by baby smiles, sans yams. And I laughed later when I saw this chart:

Except for the vegan bit, we had it nailed ;)

Despite my best intentions, some dismay crept in. She hadn't done well with any food additions yet. I'd kinda figured 7 weeks ago that we'd go 2 weeks eating everything but the big triggers and then start adding those back in too. Figure out which of the big guns were gonna go until she was older. And then I'd spent 5 more weeks dropping more and more (and more) foods.

Which meant my loved ones (even, gasp, E!) started dropping the F word. Yah, formula. Seemingly such an easy way out. What was I? Silly stubborn? Heck, E could even heat the shit in the middle of the night! I wouldn't be on perma-baby-duty!

Now, I'm not gonna knock this mind-set. I know a lotta awesome mamas that go this route. The constancy is too much. They work and abhor pumping. It feels like the hubby has it easy. Or maybe they hate millet :) I know the feeling of freedom figures into this for a few. Whether that be the freedom to eat whatever you want or the freedom to take your ta-ta's to town on your own schedule. Whatever the various reasons, formula is first choice in the first world nations. So it seems pretty silly to some to be so bothered with this breast business. Especially without sleep or chocolate to back you up!

But there are a whole host of reasons WHO recommends breast as best for the first two years. I'm not going to bother with links here. The studies are countless. Assuming the mother isn't seriously malnourished, the fact is unarguable (at this time, at least. Maybe someday they'll have a clever chemical concoction to rival thousands of years of evolution, but color me doubtful on that one:)

And my personal reason can be summed up in that one word. Evolution. Cultural trends (from deities to dishwashing to the damn F word) come and go. But babies evolved to do certain things. In a certain way. To eat a perfectly balanced food that is always clean and untainted by unwantables, that grows and changes as the baby does. To be held while they sleep (read that short link!), that physical contact providing them safety and the stimulation they need for their brains to grow properly. Three bedroom houses and baby monitors have popped up faster than baby brains evolve - they're still operating under jungle rules. And it seems like massive cheating (and plain 'ol mean) to switch the rules on the little squishies without being able to tell them :) Call me a "Continuum Concept" crazy, but I drank that kool-aide without ever even reading the book. It just jives with me.

And, after the formula companies adding some new, essential something or other into their mixes every few years, (ummm, what about the babies that didn't get the newest new and improved formula?!) label me loonie for not trusting chemists to grow my baby's essentials. Nah, me and my millet will do just fine.

Yah, it sucks to never eat out. And I miss cooking one meal for the whole family. And Ethan has been on the wrong end of my hairy eyeball a Lot in the last month. (The man, still feeding freely, seems to forget my limited choices, offering me yogurt, eggs or pizza with well fed gaiety...) But, cliche as it is, and despite my long whiny post on the subject, Zia is more than worth it. I'm hoping we caught it all early enough that she'll eat freely at four, her gut all healthy and her palate strangely fond of millet...

Of course, I'm kinda cocky right now. She's all smiles and I've added pumpkin seeds, quinoa and the most delicious raw cranberry orange relish (well done, Daddy!!!) this side of 7 weeks. If tomatoes tank tomorrow, I might change my tune :)

Artemisia: Two Months

2011-11-23T12:58:00.001-08:00

There will be a picture here...soon... phone blogging challenges me!!

I'm a little behind on my weekly update because mean Mastitis struck, again. (Message to Universe: The constant challenges to our nursing relationship? Not so fun. If you're wanting to test my dedication (like child led weaning last time wasn't proof enough...) please give up. You'll be surprised how many 104 fevers I can muddle through on turkey, chicken, millet and squash alone. Yah, that's right. In fact, I'm looking at this strict Elimination Diet bizness as palate expanding - so, nice try, and Thanks. (Call me stubborn :))

So Miss Z turned two months last weekend! I've talked about her tiny trials and tribulations - but I haven't really described her yet! I mean, at first she was just a simple, sleepy (screaming), squishy, but no more! So...

She is a squishy, only occasionally squawking, rarely screaming, smiley sweeetie. (Granted, squash, once my favorite harbinger of fall, now makes me gag, but the elimination diet has definitely been worth it:). She rolled, back to front, a week before she turned two months and rolled front to back a couple days later. And though she has been giving out good guffaws for a couple of weeks, that first precious bell like baby giggle was given to Superman just a couple nights before her two month mark. (The sound of both my kids' first giggles are cemented in my brain. Its, seriously, like the heavens opening and angels chiming magic harps. The sorta sound you'd think would stop wars. Baby giggles bring me a giddy clarity where nothing but love exists - if only for a moment!)

Physically? She seems to be growing quickly, leaving too small clothing in her wake. Her skin has cleared, the better to show off a very pink complexion (highlighted by her two rosy stork bites: one like a swath of eye shadow over her right eye, the other on the bridge of her nose (a twin to P's post birth). Her hair is still a mystery... As of now, she's a skunk. Her sides seem a light red but she rocks a light brown longer patch on top. To confuse the issue further, her eyebrows are so light as to be nonexistent. And her eyelashes are light like her sides and so long they rest on her fat little cheeks and curl back up. Otherwise, she's basic baby ;)

Funny future predictions:

Halloween choice: Shakespeare's Titania. No Dumbo costume here! Both sides of the family sport some serious ears and P wears the proof (I, of course, think he's perfect). But Zia has little pixie ears. So surprising with her lineage, it was the first thing my mother happily sighed over :)

Profession: Midwife. For two reasons :) First, we wanted a name that had a Greek link, to go with her brother's. The goddess Artemis is our top fave. Goddess of the wild, the hunt, she was brave and independent, loving the woods and animals. Never needing a man herself, she was, nevertheless, also goddess of childbirth, a midwife to those in need. In addition to her name's inspiration, is Zia's total addiction to womb sounds when napping. Perfect prep for listening to that Doppler:)

Passion: Painting. The name Artemis wasn't "girly" enough for the boys, but they loved "Artemisia.". And I love Artemisia Gentileschi, the first woman accepted into the Academy of Art and Design in Florence, an amazing paintress and a woman reshaping a woman's place in the 1600's. In addition to this is Miss Z's intense love of looking. Upon her arrival, her midwives were shocked at how she really looked and tracked, so intently, so early. Less of a boon at naptime these days, I'm sure it will serve her well someday...

Favorite garden planting: Artemisia, of course:). Its a pretty plant. And we really wanted a name that was something from nature. It was fun to find one that combined nature, Greek history and strong females - it was a tall order :)))

Favorite Place: Out West (of course:). We luuuurv the West Coast so far. The geography, the climate, the friendliness. And her middle name does pay homage to our journey West while she baked. But it was also meant to mimic her brother's name. Hudson was an attempt to remember where we were when he started (Brooklyn, thus we chose the Hudson river.). For Zia, we were living just off of Prospect Park West (back in Brooklyn again.) Plus, the word West conjures images of pioneering and exploration and there is nothing more this gypsy heart hopes for than eye opening travels for my children :)

Favorite sport: Gymnastics. The trampoline, in particular. Or perhaps the second bit of bungee jumping. Anything that includes serious bouncing. A movement she gets pretty agitated without when she's sleepy:)

Fave restaurant: Tapas. Small plates. Or an all day buffet sorta place. (Assuming they serve gluten free, dairy free, egg free, soy free, nut free...) When she's awake, she is the consummate snacker. She has about 20 minutes right when she wakes up during which she's happy on the floor, Superman's arm, whatever. After that? She wants to be beside her snack plate, sip a second, look around, take another sip, smile, sip, yawn. Then starts the sip-squawk-better-bounce bit, lovingly dubbed The Milkshake (har-har:). Try in any way to elongate the time between her awake hors d'oeuvres (by, ya know, showering or eating while someone else holds her) and she screams as if she hasn't eaten in two days and those two small sips will save. her. life. Nevermind the sips from a minute ago :). Which leads me to:

Past Life Origin: Nepal. Where babies nurse multiple times per hour and no one would expect anything different. We'd fit in spectacularly:)

Relationship status: Strictly monogamous. Her future partner will enjoy endless devotion and smiles. But, as my mother pulled out her well worn joke from P's early childhood ("attachment parenting, eh? Well, it worked, he's attached!) during our first few days, she pretty quickly updated it to: "We only thought Phoenix was attached!". And its true. By this age I could be away from P for an hour or a bit more, without complaints. Z lasts 15-20 minutes - at most (often with complaints:). And only if she has just woken and nursed. Dedicated:)

Future BFF: Phoenix! He's hopelessly devoted himself :). Noise (baby wails) has been his only complaint so far, perfectly weathering waiting for me when Zia has needs. And it seems that has even evolved already. On the ride home from the airport, she fell apart. I reached out to P to pat his leg (knowing the enclosed space and her bellows to be his hot spot) and he said, "Its ok, Mama. Her screams don't bother me so much anymore, I just feel bad for her." Awww! Then, a few days later, he was working through a big disappointment and Zia started screaming. I was trying to hug on him and kinda bounce her at the same time and he turned his sad little strong face up and said, "You better help the baby, Mama.". There had been no way for me to choose who to help (I want to be there for them both! And neither was in acute distress making the decision simple ;) and here he gave me permission to help the wee one. Not even in a martyr-ish kinda way, just true empathy for his sis. (Can you stand one more? Bear with me. I wanna remember these for when they are older and arguing :) Everyone here has been sick with a nasty virus. Somehow, Zia and I have avoided it so far. Then P's Aunt got sick with a truly terrible tummy bug and P was exposed to it. So I asked him if I could put some oregano oil on the soles of his feet, to help him fight his virus and the bug, that the tummy one would make it very difficult for me to be able to feed his sister (milk production and extreme dehydration not going hand in hand!). The kid HATES oil (or anything sticky) on his skin - I figured it was a lost cause, but worth asking... He said yes instantly. Whatever he needed to do. The next day he was talking to me and all of a sudden looked panic stricken. "I accidentally touched the baby with my finger" he breathed. Lol. E and P had been "quarantined" from holding her until they felt better and P, apparently, took this job Very Seriously. Yah, I've got older brothers, and this sorta devotion isn't easily forgotten :)

So, that's the rundown at two months. I give it all a week to totally change :)

Whew...

2011-11-16T14:05:00.001-08:00

We were not thrown from the plane. In fact, the day (post frenzied packing/cleaning/house exit..) felt like a run of good luck.

New laws in our favor meant P could keep his shoes on (his pet peeve) and Zia could stay snuggled in her wrap through security... until takeoff. But she had slept enough by then to not wail and didn't need to be bounced until the seatbelt sign stopped. The guy beside us reassured me he'd handle anyone who said a peep and bouncing at altitude worked just fine. The second flight started shaky - she was trying to go to sleep and in full bounce mode when we took off... I swayed like a madwoman in my seat while she gave some warning squaks and Superman, typically the most rule abiding boy on earth, urged me to "just stand!" before the captain even gave the go ahead...

But we made it and had an awesome welcoming committee at the airport to reward our long day. Phoenix was instantly in heaven and Miss Z didn't do any full on screaming until we were on the drive home!

Which had seemed absolutely impossible just a few days before. But I dropped more suspect foods (oats and sunflower seeds) and we took Zia to an acupuncturist for an accupressure treatment and I'd been working her digestive pressure points as instructed since and I started a new approach to her napping (that includes some cloying womb sounds;)... So, something changed in the days before we flew - though we're not exactly sure which or what :). But she has been feeling so amazing the last few days that I'm going to start testing foods, one at a time, every four days. Of course, at that rate, it seems it may take until her first prom to know what she reacts to ;)

And though P wasn't as psyched to come to Kansas as he usually is (have I mentioned he Really, realllllly likes Portland?!) he is having a blast. Farm
life is fun for a newly minted 7 year old. And he's sublimely pleased with how much family time he's already achieved. The weather turned today, as it does in the Midwest, but we had a jolly good time wandering the woods before the chill hit. And without all of the screaming coming from the bundle on my chest, we've both really enjoyed it!

I don't know how to move and label pics when blogging from my phone...(A, any suggestions?). But somewhere should be Zia, shockingly happy during her first cab ride and P, wandering and tossing rocks and checking out beaver marks...

Freakshow flyers...

2011-11-11T20:11:00.001-08:00

I'm going to try a post from my phone since my computer is officially a glorified white noise machine these days (there is no room on my lap for a sleeping baby (yes, she is even held while she's asleep:) And a laptop. So bear with my clumsy thumb...

It's been a long week. E has been working around the clock and Zia is still a hot mess. I've dropped more foods and am hoping to figure our her food triggers soon. Sleep is in short supply this week, and I caught myself dreamily thinking (during an unusually painful bout of heart-wrenching screams) that if I subsisted on air, maybe she wouldn't cry anymore.... Then I realized logic has officially left the building:).

But a few rainbows: By this point with Phoenix, I was totally overwhelmed with the constant needs, the lack of brushed teeth, the lack of sleep. This time, though Zia is in my arms a good 23 hours s day (no joke - maybe she's crying cuz she's tired of me ;) I am still really happy to hold her sweet little body. (Though the bouncing does get old on these old knees:). And, maybe its eating these crazy few simple foods, but the lack of sleep, though removing logical thinking, isn't too bad, either. Yesterday, as I bounced Z while making (separate, of course;) food for P and I and playing with the Little Man at the same time, I actually laughed at how hard I thought it was the first time :). But it's easier just because she isn't my first :)

Long story short: I'm PETRIFIED to fly this freakshow cross country so soon. Were it not the only time all of our families gather in one location, there is no way we'd be doing this. I, quite literally, fear being stoned to death or thrown from the plane (stones being in short supply at altitude) by fellow travelers. Seriously. I think of canceling the trip daily. And until the hatch door is sealed, I reserve the right to bolt. The image of her melting down and me not allowed to stand and bounce her... it gives me hives. This could be some serious sort of ugly...

But, on a lighter note:). P came running up to me this week:
P:Mama, I just got the blind mouse thing!
Me: wha?
P: The blind mouse thing - I just got it! (big grin)
Me: wha? Umm... Tell me more...
P: they're blind! they cut off their tails! (insert blank look from me (hey - I'm sleep deprived here!). Get it? they were chasing the farmer's wife, but since they couldn't see what they were doing, they cut off THEIR tales!

oh Em Gee. He hated that rhyme when he was little. Now I know why! Seemed like a senseless blood bath... until he got the irony of it all:)

And That is what I'm hoping for when we fly. What may seem like a bloodbath (you think I jest - that I exaggerate - hahahahahahaha) will eventually be a good laugh. Pu-leaze Universe?

Hurling and fistcuffs

2011-11-05T08:32:00.000-07:00

Seems both of the kids have been working on self-control this week. Zia is obsessed with her hands and figuring out how to control them. So obsessed, in fact, that she practices (and practices and practices) getting them into her mouth at night, while she sleeps in the crook of my arm. I'm learning to ignore the practice flails and wake for the hunger ones. Learning curves for all ;)

P, after a happy Halloween (for which I nevertheless felt some guilt -at the lameness of it all. Just as he is old enough to do some great projects and really get out to pumpkin patches or something, just when his dream of a front porch to decorate finally materializes... I'm MIA. Next year, I kept reassuring myself, next year he'll still be young enough and I'll be better at juggling...) But we managed to finally carve the pumpkin just before dinner. And this year he actually did it himself! Except for removing the guts, of course, yuck ;) He drew his design and sawed away with his carving kit. The neighbor boy joined and watched in awe (P had crashed their family carving party the day before:)

Snapped in the dark during treating, but at least finally snapped ;)

Then it was a mad dash to do dinner and don the Harry Potter costume before Zia started her "bewitching hour" ritual. We didn't quite make it, thus the absence of cool costume pictures :( But we did make it to the neighbors in time so that the boys could trick-or-treat together, along with a couple of other kids (of whom, the older princess and P had quite the courtship;) He was so happy being with his buds and collecting candy that he barely even noticed a few blocks later when I had to exit with a screaming baby who would no longer play second fiddle :)

Unfortunately, being allergic to all things unnatural and Halloween don't go together as well as peanut butter and chocolate. P ate some of his candy a few years back and was so miserable he hasn't tried any again... until this year. The lure was too much. He carefully put it in piles (per usual) and spent forever looking at wrappers and asking names and asking me to describe the flavors. And then he decided it. This year, he would eat some. "Its only one time a year, Mama," he reassured me :) I agreed!

He was very careful the first night. Avoiding the nutty ones or any with obvious food coloring, he selected the two I said had been my favorites. We were both impressed when he woke up feeling fine the next morning. Oh, happy day! Could he be outgrowing this? (Not that I want him to eat shit, but it would be nice for it to not make him sick if he does:) The next day he ate, erm, quite a bit. Not a lot by a normal kid standard, but a lot for the Little Man. He woke up puking the next morning with a bright red tush to boot. After a few trips to the toilet to hurl his already empty tummy, he looked askew at his candy filled pumpkin and asked, "Where can I put that?" He now has No desire to eat traditional candy ever. again. (At least not for a few more Halloweens ;) Super self-control ;)

Mine is growing stronger too, as I forgo favorite foods. I really buckled down this week and was super careful to stick to turkey, potatoes, apples and brown rice (with a little pumpkin seeds, millet bread and avocados for variety;) Poor Z started going downhill. Waking every 5 minutes at bedtime, shrieking. P was scared :( E was alarmed. Then it hit him. His brother is allergic to potatoes. Oh Em Gee. So I stopped the sweet potato habit and whalah. Happier baby! I hope this video loads. I haven't edited it, so excuse the babble, but there's (post-potato) baby smiles!!!

The sun will come out...

2011-10-30T10:23:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow. It was tomorrow (thanks, Peck;) It has gone back to yesterday, as of today, but tomorrow will show up again, now that we know the key...

Poor little Zia, she was so, sooo miserable. I believe the correct word would be "inconsolable." The crying was almost unstoppable, short of finding just the right bounce and vigorously repeating it, amid white noise, without variation, for ridiculously long bouts. (Hell, maybe all of the bouncing was just our way of coping and she was just tuckering herself out each time ;) Then, once she passed out, I had to stay standing and swaying/bouncing. If my ass hit a seat, she'd wail... It wasn't pretty.

And then there was her poor little tummy. She was often miserable after eating, or in the middle of eating even. Wanting to nurse, she would try, swallow, and scream in pain. Her constant bouts of silent spit-up seemed to burn her throat, instead of effortlessly sliding out like P's always had. And after lying down at night for just a few hours, she could no longer stand the prone position (all that gas and burping and spit-up and misery) so we'd have to spend much of each night sitting upright in the rocker. It sucked.

So, she was miserable, I was on the verge of a body breakdown and poor P, he was spending inordinate amounts of time brooding while the baby wailed. Her discontent was so constant I had a terrible time getting even the pre-cooked deli stuff out of the fridge for P and I to eat during the day. And dressing was fortunately optional, since she was too manic to leave the house anyway :)

And it was getting worse, almost no eye contact :( Our awesome lactation consultant (the one who helped with Z's tongue issues) suggested an elimination diet after watching Z fall apart repeatedly one afternoon. I was willing to try anything. And P's problems as a baby were definitely due to nuts, so...

The results have been nothing short of Amazing. Seriously. After two days we noticed a difference. A little less intensity. After 5 days, she was sunshine in a bottle :) Once, she sat in my wrap and just. fell. asleep. It was amazing.

Thursday and Friday were really good days. P and I actually left the house! We sat and read together. We even played on the floor together. Sure, she fussed and had normal newborn needs, but this seemed like cake after the past few weeks :)

Unfortunately, it seems we need to add a few things to the elimination diet, as she's going downhill, massively, this weekend. Yesterday was touch and go, but we didnt' realize this until we were already going out of the house. So we just flowed with it, and she was ok. Today, after another meal of the suspect food, she is back to constant bouncing and the fun part is over :( But, we saw what could be and are determined to get there again. So, just turkey, pears and sweet potatoes this week for me it is...

Yesterday we went on a family outing. It was super sweet. We wanted to visit the downtown farmer's market. But still aren't brave enough to strap the kid into a car seat and listen to her wail, so we went by bike where she could stay on my body. Superman schlepped us all on the back of his Mundo. It was super fun :) And oh my, was it amazing to get out of the house!

Crossing a bridge into downtown, our lovely new city shrouded in fog.

We rode right past occupy Portland. Its HUGE.

This market, actually, kicks Union Square's ass. I was shocked. Its the best farmer's market I've ever been too. Evah. P was thrilled with his food options. I had a moment of mourning that there was nothing I could eat :) The produce was so gorgeous and the setting is just beautiful. Fall leaves, college buildings, beautiful park, kids in costumes, compost bins everywhere and delicious organic food.

P is wowed by some gorgeous carrots.

P, on the back of the bike. I sat right in front of him, with Zia asleep in the wrap.

Walking back through the park.

What a great place for a farmer's market!

Going back over the bridge - we're seriously falling for our new town:)

P noticed OMSI (our science museum) as we crossed the bridge and really wanted to stop and play. He loved it. Zia woke up at this point for good, so there are no more pics ;)

It was a treat to spend time as a family again. We've been following a divide and conquer approach the last few weeks. Now, just gotta get some stuff out of my system and see if it helps little Z again. I want those sweet smiles back :)

Message to the Universe

2011-10-25T10:06:00.000-07:00

Real Men wear babies :)

E, figured the wrap out all by his big self and took Zia on many walks Sunday to quell the screaming.

P and Z, sharing a sweet snuggle.

Dear Mastitis (and your fiendish friends, Fever and Pain): you SUCK. And Insomnia (from said fiendish friends)? You, too, Suck. And Colic, my evil arch-nemesis from the past... Was haunting my first born really not enough? Must you possess my sweet second too? You? You Super Duper SUCK! And lastly, Elimination Diet (no dairy, no wheat (gluten, really), no eggs, no soy, no corn, no nuts, no chocolate (sob), no kombucha (double sob))? You? You starve me suck-a-roni!!!

There. All better.

And to my seemingly forgotten first-born: I know, this sucks.

And to my Superman: Without you, this would be beyond suck. Thanks :)

...We will return shortly to our regular, optimistic broadcast...

Its Friday? Friday updates.

2011-10-21T17:46:00.000-07:00

Zia, surrounded...

First, thank you Superman, for telling me to sit for 30 minutes rather than make dinner. You ROCK. (This blog post, thanks to Superman.)

I was making an appointment for Zia this morning and had to ask the woman what day of the week it is... When she said "Friday," I didn't have one of those, 'oh, yeah' moments, her answer completely surprised me. Telling, truly ;)

Ms. Z had her little procedure this week. Thankfully, Superman went with us. I couldn't imagine driving to a distant quarter with a screaming newborn and was relieved to sit in back, sandwiched between my babes (neither of whom screamed :) Funny, the ride was the only part I was really dreading, since all of our research promised us that such young babies don't have many nerve endings in the frenulum areas. No pain, just a drop of blood.

Ummm. Sweet Z had just gotten down for a nap when the doctor came in. She was fairly patient about being woken up with fingers in her face. He agreed she was totally tongue tied and her lip frenulum was too tight too. But no other mouth issues, which was great! The assistant came in to hold Z's head, I chose E to hold Z's arms down and out came the scissors.

Seriously, I question the mental state of the people that do this for a living. I mean, super yay that they are there for babies in need, but oh. my. gawd. I don't know how they stomach it. Poor, tiny little unsuspecting babies! Her shrieks killed me. But the real tear inducer was watching droplets of blood skitter into the air as she choked on it and continued screaming.

There were a few more snips and a bloody gauze pad shoved into her mouth and then it was over. Kinda;) They sent us to the next room to nurse and the poor thing just wailed for a bit. Then she latched on... and I could instantly tell the difference! Granted, she was sliding around due to all of the blood (and sweet Superman stood there, all serious, wiping Z and I dry, over and over, muttering that he didn't like blood on his baby's face), but her mouth was obviously more open and able. Knowing this helped E and I, but I don't know that Zia was that impressed :)

She passed out and slept until P's curiosity woke her... too soon. She then wailed for the rest of the evening. So, so sad. The next day sucked too. She had started making serious eye contact and reeeeally smiling at us just a few days before the procedure. The day after the snipping, no smiles, no eye contact. For the. whole. day.

Add to the worry that she had lost faith in us and was thoroughly traumatized the fact that we need to do mouth exercises 6-8 times a day to make sure her wounds don't reseal and then add a six year old boy who felt ignored and upset by all of the wailing and you have a pretty decent shit-storm for the day.

But Ms. Z didn't seem as upset by the exercises as we worried, and P has 6 long years of lovin' to fall back on, and sleep is not essential. And Dina texts me down. And Zia was smiley again today :))) In fact, I laughed earlier and this made her smile so big I actually felt warm fuzzies. Fer real ;)

So, we're glad we went through with the procedure. No worrying for the next few years that she'll have language issues from skipping it. No threat to her milk supply. No gap teeth in her future :)

But it hasn't been the cure-all we had hoped for... Seems there are still some digestive issues going on for little Z, we have an appointment next Tuesday to learn more. She still has a reeeeeally rough time getting to sleep/settling, showing a distinct preference to highly aerobic dancing and bouncing by her carrier. Curling her while sashaying through the day was killing my back, so we are working on a peaceful solution that puts her in a wrap or sling. (Which also means once she's asleep for her cat-naps, I can move about with P, making his life much better:)

Zia, hilariously positioned in the wrap, sleeping.

So, what does all of this do to the sibling relationship? The one I hoped would be a cake-walk due to the age difference (which is nice)? The Little Man is still being understanding, but you can tell that by this week, his "understanding" is wearing just a titch thin. He just doesn't understand why she has to cry. So Loud. And So Often. (Honestly, I agree ;) I mean, I'm feeding on demand, carrying her everywhere, doing all of the stuff that tribal cultures and their unbelievably content babies do and... no cigar.... I seriously feel like I'm sucking but not sure of why.)

At any rate, I try to validate his annoyance. And vocalize how I view Z's, erm, vocalizations. So, the other day, she was crying, I was bouncing and hopping and checking her diaper etc while soothingly telling her to "tell me her story", that I was listening. P jumped up and, as he exited the room with his hands over his ears (a rarity, he typically sticks by the noise for some strange reason) angrily said, "I don't want to hear her story! Her stories SUCK!"

So glad he was out of the room. Cuz I found this heee-larious.

So, there are annoyances that I didn't foresee. And I worry about the noise making the boy not like the baby. But so far so good. After she wakes up (on no-surgery days;) she's pretty darn cute for about a half an hour. And the Little Man either ignores her or obsessively plays with her. He loves watching her mouth exercises. He tells her constantly how adorable she is. He tries to dress her. He vigilantly makes sure she doesn't choke when I run to the loo. In fact, the other day she woke up (heaven forbid you put her down while she is napping and steal even 5 minutes of peaceful sleep from her during the day. I mean, if you have to work for 20 minutes to get her to sleep for 20 minutes, you just don't eff with that!) and was all happy. So I laid her on P's rug and ran to the jon. I must admit to being slightly nervous leaving her with him. I mean, I trust him and all, but, well, he is six.

This is what I returned to:

He was chanting something about how he had her surrounded. She was totally captivated, turning her head to follow him. He was pretty pleased with himself. I guess he was safely acting out any aggressions...

He's also Very Pleased with his front porch. Long has he dreamed of decorating for Halloween. Now out of NYC, he made it happen. He has dedicated many, many afternoons in the last week to this project.

And Artemisia (P caller her Artie the other day and it cracked me up!) turned one month this week. Here's a shot of how big she is getting (almost 10 pounds!)

And one last note for the week. P's favorite baby thing happened today. She was bopping her head around as she nursed and I muttered something about how she'd probably be a tummy time champ. He quickly asked what "tummy time" was and if we could do it. So we spread a blanket and put Z on the floor. She immediately popped up and looked all around. She stayed there, quite happily, for a couple of minutes, holding her head high and looking around. I was so surprised (she's still so cuddly and floppy when you hold her!) I grabbed my phone. Someday, the second will get an actual camera shot... ;)

In the meantime, every time she wakes up, P asks if she can do tummy time. I think he thinks she's going to just push up and start crawling ;) And I think he'll be the most excited person in the house on the day that she does!

Expectations on my manic Monday

2011-10-14T20:07:00.000-07:00

Sleepy dreams. Zia is a smiley baby. I know "they" say babies don't really smile at you until six weeks, but I swear this kid already gives us gummy grins. My mom saw her gazing at me with the sweetest smile (at only two weeks old!) and pronounced her extra special on the spot ;) Z especially likes to smile at P, which he adores :)

Yes, its a tad nerve wracking when he holds her... but they both seem so darn happy together...

These sweet smiles made her manic tendencies over the last two weeks even more perplexing. Just awoken and well tanked, she is calm, collected, amazingly alert and so, so sweet. Give her a tiny bit of time though... and everything falls a.p.a.r.t.

Which brings me to my point. You know, everyone promised me two things this pregnancy:

1. Labor would be shorter. (ummm, we went from 28 hours the first time to over 48 hours the second time...)

2. This baby would be chill (compared to the the first, that required constant bouncing for any semblance of peace.)

Ummmmmmmmmmmm. Which leads me to my life lesson. (Again.) The one I have repeatedly failed to truly learn:

Fuck Expectations. They will fuck you Every Time.

And so, as her already questionable caterwauling escalated as she hit her three week growth spurt this week, the truth descended. Expecting anything in life (the sweet in-arms babies all of my friends have had, you know that chill in their sling, nurse to sleep...) will break. you. down. I had planned on that baby. Chillaxing in my wrap, popping out to poo, slowly integrating into the family for the ease of P... And here was a baby that was requiring c.o.n.s.t.a.n.t. help finding a shred of contentment....

She wanted to nurse all. the. time. Now, I don't mean, like every two hours. I mean at 12, 12:15,, 12:45, 12:54... Then maybe she'd pass out an make it a whole hour. We tried our pinky finger a few times, thinking surely she wasn't hungry, she just likes to suck! (She was, erm, producing like a champ, so we knew there was, erm, intake.) Hell, we even tried a binky (which she seemed highly insulted by. Smart girl ;))

Obviously, not a lot gets accomplished when nursing with this sort of frequency. Especially when the nursing is accompanied by wailing and arching and sputtering and choking (rather than just peaceful, sling squatting and happy nibbles.) And then the sweet first born is running around with his ears covered. And you're covered in milk spray and tears (everyone's tears...) And your heart is breaking because your beautiful baby is just miserable.

But I'm slow. And maybe stubborn. I was going to have that simple sling baby. I would still parent my first. We would still go to the library. The walk would sooth her!

Um. NO. (The Bangles song streamed through my mind Monday as we stood in the rain, outside the library, with the screaming infant and the upset six year old and the exhausted mother....)

By Tuesday I called it quits. This wasn't just a growth spurt.

And so today we met with a lactation consultant (who, come to find out, is an unschooling mum!) I was hoping we had managed a bad latch and there was a brilliant fix. Maybe she just needed to grow a tad bit to keep up with my supply or get more practiced with a strong let-down...

Turns out Ms. Z, poor thing, is tongue tied. Top and bottom :( (For the breastfeeding novice, this means her frenulums are too tight and she can't move her tongue (and top lip) adequately to move the milk!

So, umm, she is actually always hungry. And by the grace of gawd I had been responding to all of her hunger cues rather than just assuming she was full of shit, so she has been chunking up appropriately. Granted, in very short, sad little blips. Because her mouth gets tuckered out trying to hang on. And she can't manage it when she gets a reeeal mouthful, so she has to stop for a break and then try again. In a few minutes. Which pisses her off. And then again a few minutes later. This makes for a tired and consistently hungry baby. Thus, all of (our) tears ;)

So, while I'm pretty darn bummed tonight that she is going to have to be clipped next week (cut on my perfect new baby! eeeeek!) I am over the moon excited to let her manic phase morph into the more smiley stuff her (momentarily) content self has hinted at. And I'd be lying if I didn't mention being a bit psyched for a solid(er) chunk of sleep ;) Hers, and mine :)

All set to venture out for a walk. (A total FAIL, by the way. But come next week after her procedure...:)

Phoenix has been beyond, well, just beyond through all of this. As I bounced my desperate daughter on the birthing ball to calm her yesterday, he astutely noticed the floor had gathered more items than a floor really requires. And he set to picking them up. And actually putting them away. Unrequested. He made us pancakes for breakfast the other morning when Zia couldn't sleep (or stop whimpering.) He sits on the couch, patiently waiting for me to read again after yet another spot of nursing. He fetches me anything, anytime I need it. And though he repeatedly says he hates the crying, he constantly coos at his sister, telling her she is precious, adorable, loved. I am filled with thanks, everyday, for his sweet heart. And filled with surprise. His expanded independence and expanding level of acceptance wasn't what I expected when we got pregnant.

But there's that expectations thing again ;)

As in, I expected labor to be much faster (and thereby easier;) this time. I also expected that I would be, gawd forbid it happen again, unable to handle what I went through the first time. Too old. Too out of shape :) And yet, this labor, 20 hours longer, with a flip-sided baby and blood loss, was much easier. As soon as I saw things weren't going as expected, I set aside those damn expectations and just rode the ride. At home, with Superman. I will always look back on that birth as beautiful.

I also expected this parenting bit to be hard. Real hard. Because it was so hard on E and I the first time. But I'm finding that expectation to be shit too (as most of them are...) It was so hard the first time because we weren't parents. We were partying, playing, free-wheeling non-parents. And the transition from that to parents was tough. Reeeeal tough.

But now, we're already parents. We have absolutely NO expectations of warm meals or long showers. Privacy or free time. Uninterrupted sleep or unsoiled clothing. This transition, from three to four, has been surprisingly peaceful, despite the screaming, tongue tied newborn. In fact, the last three weeks have been beautiful. Hard, sure, trying, sure, but unexpectedly beautiful.

So, while I expected to struggle with the lack of freedom etc, and for P to struggle to accept a sibling, that hasn't been what is true. I didn't expect to struggle nursing, or carrying my baby (she reeeeally hasn't taken to wraps or slings (oh my back!), unlike her brother, who wouldn't get out of one for the first three years...), and yet, that is where we are. Expectations, they'll make a fool of me, every time.

Now, I just have to fight one big expectation. That sweet Z's procedure will produce that peaceful baby I've always dreamed of parenting. While the lactation consultant promises a definite improvement post procedure, I don't want to get my wishes all up in a wad. But, true to my life thus far, I'm not having a lot of success setting this one aside... ;)

And the Saint departs...

2011-10-07T14:26:00.000-07:00

So, our last day with the Saint's help was three days ago. Our first day flying solo (and E back to work full-time) felt very successful. I was dressed. The children were fed. The tears were managed. The second day felt like failure incarnate. I was not dressed. Teeth were not brushed. Each meal was abandoned amongst tears (I'm not saying who's...) Today, well, we're only half way there, but we are all dressed, various foods have been eaten and there is even a calm quiet as P listens to a story and plays making melting wax sculptures and the baby naps. So I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it feels wildly successful already :)

The Little Man has been a superchamp. Though the pooping still bothers him, and the crying brings on dramatic ear covering followed by his own wails of "too loud!! too loud!!!!", these are his only hiccups. He has expressed dismay at having a sister that takes up attention. He has also expressed extreme love and happiness at having "this precious little sister." Seems about status quo for a sibling relationship so far ;) But as far as "sons" go, he brings tears to my eyes with his fabulousness. As E fed us a real meal last night for dinner after all of the mayhem, P looked at me smiling and talking and said "I'm glad you're feeling better, Mama." Superman is good to me (ok, amazing;), yes indeed, but I have never had anyone as dedicated to me as this Little Man. He is so supportive its heart-wrenching. (Three times yesterday he came to me and asked, "What can I do for you, Mama? Do you need anything?") I only hope he's not swallowing too much of his own discomfort trying to look out for mine during these early days...

Zia is trying to settle in. She's not awake for hours at night anymore. Unless she super-poops and then is up after her diaper change ;) But she's having some nursing/sleeping trouble during the day that keeps us on our toes whenever she wakes. Which, with an exuberant 6 year old in the house, is fairly frequently ;) But we'll figure it out, she's so brand new...

Some quick phone pic updates:

We are officially Portlanders now... we own a bike! The boys run our errands on it and take it down to the river for outings. P rides on the bench behind E (apparently, occasionally hopping off, mid stride - eek! - and then running and hopping back on - double eek!) It rocks and they are in love.

Our last evening with the Saint, I realized I hadn't caught a single shot of her with the kids. I still haven't taken a real photo of Zia... poor little second born ;) P's life was documented from the moment he exploded onto the scene...

My beautiful mother and her newest grandbaby...

My good-sport of a mother and her very ornery grandson...

Trying to respect my mom's privacy, she stays out of the blog limelight, but seriously, she Saved our Sanity this past month. And its a testament to her fabulous relationship with Phoenix that it all went so swimmingly. P hadn't spent but one night away from us in his whole life and he spent almost every night in the last three weeks at Grams' home away from home here in Portland. This allowed for nighttime shrieking and diaper changes without adversely affecting the six year old. It allowed for amazing baby bonding time, without the six year old feeling ignored. It allowed for Mama healing time, without the immense guilt that would have ensued. It allowed for home-cooked meals, full of iron and nutrients, naps, and laughs. And through it all, the Little Man had a Blast. I truly believe the Saint's presence singly handedly made this transition from three to four the success it has been thus far.... Were she to want to move to, say, Portland, well, :)

Clowning around - do you see the child's happiness?!?

And a sweet E and Z snuggle. The man is crazy in love :)

A very tired baby, who is absolutely, positively, completely and undeniably Addicted To Sucking. I mean, babies like to suck, yah. But she is over the top. She came out with little spots on both of her wrists where she had sucked and sucked in the womb. And she hasn't stopped since. Here, she tries to fit Both hands into her wee, sleepy mouth....

One Week Old

2011-09-30T17:35:00.000-07:00

Zia is a growing munchkin! When the midwives weighed her at one week, she'd already gained back all of her birth weight... and then some :) Unfortunately, all of that munchin seems to have brought on an oversupply of milk, something she is less than pleased with this week (gulp, gulp, choke, gasp!) Her sleep is still a little wonky (day, night, whatever;), but she is the cuddliest little baby and I keep promising her that everything will fall into place in another week or two :)

Meanwhile, her big brother is being the world's best. Thank gawd he has The Saint, I think this aids his outlook ;) He's spent a couple of nights here with us, but the vast majority of his time is spent playing with Grams and sleeping over at her house. Honestly, I miss him terribly, but would be pretty worthless to him right now, so I'm thrilled he will look back on this time as a happy blur of games and sleepovers instead of shitty diapers and a weak Mama! Nevertheless, I think he's still pretty jazzed about gaining a sibling. He excitedly introduced his buddies next door to his baby sister the other day and I overheard him telling them how much he loves her :)

Ode to a husband

2011-09-26T17:51:00.000-07:00

"Oh, all of this nursing and pooping just wears a girl out!"

An exhausted Superman, sneaking some zzz's with Zia.

We had our wedding anniversary a few weeks ago (14 years of marriage - about, what, 22 years altogether? Wow, time flies;) when I was sick. Superman sweetly carried in food and didn't blink at my boogery-self's uselessness. Then his birthday hit the day after his daughter's and he was massively lost amongst the shuffle. Labeling him "Birthday Boy" each time I addressed him was about as far as that all went...

And now, his bed-rest stricken wife has lazed about for a week, stuck upstairs with the sweetest little (constantly nursing!!!) babe while... he has gotten up before the crack of dawn to work a half day, then rushed downstairs to make said wife breakfast, wash diapers, clean dishes, do more laundry and diapers (umm, this kid is so getting EC'd as soon as I'm mobile!!!), scrub bathrooms and then turn around to fix more food for the silly, starving, stuck wife. Oh, and he changes diapers, holds and coos at his daughter and then spends the afternoon creating creative number games with his son... Honestly, the gratefulness I feel for this guy feels just. too. big. Were I the type to enjoy being waited on hand and foot, this might just be the time of my life... As it is, that constant of motherhood, Guilt (the bitch) taunts me. Fortunately, Superman seems to be weathering the storm...

But, weathering it or not, I wish I could give him a Great Big Vacation. For now, he'll have to settle for a public statement to his greatness :) Ethan, you are my Superman. Thank you.

Artemisia West

2011-09-22T20:44:00.000-07:00

She's here! I believe E has sent texts to all of his family (and mine:) but I haven't really been on top of such things... so here's a little mass announcement! Artemisia West (nickname: Zia) was born Monday morning at 1:56 AM, weighing in at 7 pounds and 6 ounces. She's all healthy and sweet and we are So. In. Love. The Little Man declared it the "best day of his life" and is quite effusive in his adoration of her little bits and pieces. Except for her crying and pooping. Those, he could do without ;) But her pinky finger is, apparently, the World's Best Thing Ever.

Most of the women I know share their birth stories with each other, I don't know if this is a modern phenomena or a long reaching reaction to going through a life-changing period, but I never got around to putting P's to paper, so I'd like to do Z's before it fades into the woodwork. Feel free to skip it ;)

First, my mother (henceforth called Our Saint) arrived on Thursday. We had a day of fun falling in love with Portland on Friday while I had mild contractions pretty evenly spaced. I'd had a few of the other classic "get ready for birth signs" the few previous days, so I knew this was probably very early labor, but I'm not counting it in the hourly countdown... that number would sound... obnoxious ;)

I woke up in faster labor at two that night and just tried to doze between contractions for a few hours. Around six I was so hopeful things would move along and I could meet my daughter in a few hours (haha) that I got up and went up and down the stairs a few times. Then I realized I was actually pretty tired and should be patient and try to sleep between them again :)

We did the basic early labor thing all day (the contractions were 8 to 10 minutes apart and some of them I couldn't talk through, but a lot were really manageable) so mom and I walked around the neighborhood and went to lunch, hoping to get things really going. When she left with P that afternoon, I was concentrating pretty hard to get through the contractions, but they still weren't closer together. One of my awesome midwives stopped by somewhere in there. She was fantastic about being patient with this labor and I was mightily relieved to be far away from words like "pitocin" and "timing your progress."

Let me pause here to sing the praises of the west-coast midwife. I had a clinical one in NYC (meh - kinda like an OB, though I'm sure the homebirth midwives are quite different there). With P I had a clinical midwife in the midwest (meh - kinda like a slightly more patient OB, but still kinda walking the traditional Western path) and now a homebirth midwife on the West Coast. Which, my NYC midwife told me, would be a whole different story. Now I know what she means. The trust and patience these women have in the natural process of birthing a baby is almost tear inducing. They never requested I do a cervical check to show what my progress was. They continually reassured me that, however variant my labor was to those in the text books, it was going along beautifully. There were no "time lines" or anything. Just giving birth, whenever and however it happened. I love that.

So I labored through Saturday night too, napping as I could, moving on the birthing ball to get through contractions. Sunday morning brought.... 8 to 10 minute apart contractions. I'll admit to being a bit bummed about this :) I was really hoping to see this baby... soon!

My midwives came back again to see if I needed anything. While they were here, my contractions suddenly spaced to 3 minutes apart and all of the intense back labor/pressure I'd been experiencing shifted. Ahhh, this is more like I remembered it from P. Things not quite so painful and moving closer together. While they may have the patience of saints, I was ready to get this show on the road :)

Things settled into the classic 4 to 5 minutes apart, lasting for a minute pattern and after having tea and hanging out in the living room with E and I, they left to let me labor. It shifted back to back labor and lots of pressure in the back, but things were moving along, so I didn't care :)

I LOVE laboring at home like this. The sweet little farmhouse we birthed in when P was born in Kansas was nice and all, but still, it wasn't home.

As the afternoon rambled on, I was feeling a bit restless and wanted to walk around the block. It was a lovely drizzly day (I adore drizzle) and we set off, pausing when needed by trees to look like crazies, swaying through contractions :)

Then it started raining. Like really raining. We were actually just across the street from the flat my mother is staying in and I missed P desperately by then, so we popped in there to say hi.

My poor mother (aka Our Saint). Unlike my midwives, she does appreciate a text book labor and was more than interested in her daughter being more comfortable at a little faster pace. My labor totally stalled while we were there and I realized we needed to go, I was too worried about my mom's worry and P. So out we went, P following us home :)

By dinnertime that night I was pretty tired of being in labor. P had gone back to my mom and E and I ate in the kitchen. We were happy to be following this labor's path, but I was pretty tired and not really wanting to labor through another night. One of my midwives called to check in and I mentioned the word "discouraged" :)

She came over shortly afterwards with some naturopathics to regulate contractions if I wanted. I don't know if it was a coincidence or not, but, just as the day before when my other midwife arrived, my contractions almost immediately picked up the pace. Going just a few minutes apart, they checked my vitals and the babies again and all was well.

We went upstairs so I could lay on the bed to check the baby's pesky position. She had been threatening us with being posterior for the past few weeks and all of the back labor definitely pointed in that direction. A few contractions and a bit of belly poking later and... yup, she was still not all the way turned. Which was probably why my labor was draggggggging along, to give her the encouragement she needed to stop hanging out on my side and move to the front.

One of my midwives said she would like to use a rebozo technique to help the baby take the final turn she needed. Sweet. I lay down on the floor on top of her rebozo and she rocked my baby belly side to side in a sway. A contraction interrupted us and as I turned on my side to work through it I felt the baby make a big movement right as I heard a POP! Strange, I thought, what was....

And then I was totally taken over with contraction on top of contraction on top of contraction on top of, you get the idea. There was no break for about 6 or 7 minutes. And I LOVE what Silke said as it passed. "That seemed like a bigger one..." Hehee.

I replied that I was pretty sure I was going to make a mess fast.

Sweet Ethan had just been instructed to fill up the birthing tub so I could finally relax through some of these back labor pains (now that things were really moving, we hadn't been wanting to take a chance on the comfort of the water slowing things down) and I could just hear the music he had put on to whistle to while he worked. For some reason, this made me laugh. I find the man so delightful.

After a few seconds, another one hit and I said I was going to throw up (which made me realize I must have all of a sudden hit transition) and then another one hit and... my body started pushing. Ummm. Strange. Transition supposedly lasts a bit. But nope. No puking. Definitely pushing.

And with that, the tub was abandoned and E (henceforth called Superman) was beckoned to with a bit of immediacy.

I knew there was the commotion of birthing stuffs being brought into the bedroom. Liners being put onto the white carpet. Our other midwife being called. But I was busy. It was all background because I was so completely consumed by constant contractions and my body being a bit confused. Part of me was pushing and part of me was just trying to muddle through the contractions like I had for the last few days. Finally, I realized they weren't really in sink and gave into the pushing part and that was immediately satisfying. And immensely painful.

Which was frustrating to me. Because the pushing part with P wasn't nearly this painful. This was all so different.

And so it went for the next four hours. Superman helped balance me as I squatted then leaned forward, then huddled on him, then, feeling pretty exhausted, laid sideways on the bed and pushed against him. There may have been some smacking on his legs. He may have been told no, pleeeease, when he mentioned the need to pee, there definitely was pushing and pulling on his body parts... And he was so soothing with light kisses and basically just letting me abuse him however my body needed. Superman.

Meanwhile, the midwives were amazing. Their encouragement allowed the worry that occasionally creeped in (it hurt so much worse than P's! And this was supposed to be, ahem, easier the second time!!!) to be set aside and my pushing to be as effective (thanks to their coaching) as it could be.

So, though their suggestion to move upright (actually will my body to move?!) seemed insane, I trusted them, knowing that the gravity I'd been trying to dance with all day should come back into the picture and help me out. As soon as I was up and squatting I knew things had just changed. "She's coming!"

She had felt stuck for seeming forever. I could feel her moving further down, but then sliding back up. Over and over again. She just couldnt' get past some curve. And I could feel her trying. Trying to help me, adjusting in me. And this made me love her even so much more. My strong daughter.

Gravity brought her around the bend and I felt her crown. Oh the supreme joy of that moment. My midwives before, from P's birth, bailed on me before I could birth P by myself. They said they didn't think I could do it, that I needed help, that the vacuum should be used. I remember being a bit surprised because I didn't feel done and ready to give up that night. I didn't feel like I couldn't do it. Well, it was in the moment that Zia crowned that I knew that what my West Coast midwives had suggested was true. I could have done it. With enough patience and the proper support, I could birth a baby.

And so I was So Excited to push her out. Feel that ring of fire. And then her head. (The midwives all kinda exclaimed as her head came through and I thought it was just that I had reached that point....) Then her body and oh my gawd. I'd had a baby.

But there was blood. Pools of it. I noticed it as I sat back against E and we both stared in awe at our sweet Artemisia. I was aware the midwives were busily looking at me while completely not interrupting our moments of bonding. They seemed interested in me getting my placenta out pretty soon, which part of my brain made a checkmark by as slightly strange after all of the patience, but a silly placenta after a big baby head, well, I was more than happy to acquiesce.... And found out later it was to assure that I was safe and healthy :)

We held and loved her and awed at her until her cord stopped beating and was cut. She was alert and I think I was a little in shock that the whole thing had ended up with such a perfect little healthy baby.

Turns out, my placenta detached in a weird way, causing immense bleeding. I love the fact that something kinda big like that could happen and my midwives were able to be alert without freaking or taking that bonding moment away from us at all.

It was just a couple of minutes before 2AM when she made her arrival, and the after "stuff' took us until almost 6. I was interested in showering. My midwives weren't so into the idea, but humored me. I fainted. Ditto when I went to pee. Ditto again when I stood up. Turns out I lost about a quart of blood and that's a lot harder to deal with than I would have guessed ;)

So the lovely midwives sponged me clean, while they cleaned up our bedroom that had turned into a scene set from Dexter. They made me eggs and toast. Spoon fed me yogurt after I fainted again and couldn't sit up. Started laundry.

Then they mentioned Zia had come out posterior. Which made sense. No wonder she'd had such a rough time getting around that last bend, she was facing the wrong way :) Which increases a baby's head circumference by, like, 12 feet or something ;)

Which leads to lots of stitches for the mother :)

After the stitches and the weighing and the settling, our amazing midwives headed home so that Superman and I could sleep.

I think that's all of the details. I have to go, at any rate, because Our Saint has just brought me roast and root vegetables, the better to remake about 1/4 of your blood supply with... and it tastes So Good.

Still pregnant...

2011-09-14T23:04:00.000-07:00

I caught a pic of the cat and P cuddling while I read them a story. The child cuddles this cat so much during the day its unreal. E and I have been wondering how the whole manhandling, erm, constant cuddling thing will all play out with a baby rather than the feline...

Obviously, still no baby ;) Last night, as we took our post-dinner walk, the child wished on stars. For his sister to come. N.O.W. He was a bit disappointed today when the stars hadn't done his bidding ;)

But too busy being excited by our other imminent arrival to dwell on that too much. My mother arrives tomorrow!!! We are beyond excited (and thankful). Hopefully Little Miss won't make her appearance too late into my mother's visit...

But other than that hope, I'm still not feeling completely fed up. Which is nice. Since I felt finished a few months ago ;) I'm just enjoying the ease of these last days as the mother of a singleton. Or, honestly, trying to enjoy them... I've been uncharacteristically grumpy the last two days! Typically, I can sense this and get past it pretty quickly, but its a rut I keep galumphing into, despite my inner chatter about how great life is. You know, the sort of grumpy where each item that, for gawd's sake, doesn't defy gravity and actually falls to the ground, from whence you must bend over to pick it back up - just totally pisses you off. That sort of grumpy. And as I breathed deeply through yet another annoyance this afternoon, I thought, heavens to Betsy, this child can't come until I get my head on straight! Who wants to labor under a dark cloud...

I don't know if its the sleep deprivation finally wearing me down, or just feeling like there are so many things I'd like to do that I physically can't, but I'm hoping its just the freakishly full moon, so that this silliness is but a passing pfffft :)

I mostly hope it for the child. Who is still being so empathetic that it breaks my heart to be anything less than ideal around him.

We have our 40 week appointment tomorrow, hopefully our last! And then we're off to a park day with a bunch of homeschoolers and then to the airport! No room for brooding (or laboring, actually) tomorrow.... ;)

39 weeks, 3 days...

2011-09-13T00:52:00.000-07:00

Hehe. It has started. The emails, the texts, the calls. No, no baby yet :) Maybe I'll do a brief post each night to mitigate the messages...

But it officially feels imminent. As P explained to E tonight, when we were discussing something we'd like to do before the baby comes, "Papa! Papa, the baby could be born, anytime. Tomorrow even!" And though contractions keep me up part of the night and the FIVE pee breaks a night are helping me to really get used to that constant newborn need to nurse, I'm thinking it may still be a while. P was a freaking hardboiled egg (ten days late!) and I haven't hit that ohmygod-I-can't-stand- to-be-pregnant-for-another-second feeling yet. Yet ;) In fact, other than the fairly regular belly bashing (gauging my girth seems to be outside of my abilities lately:), it all feels much easier. I know not being sick helps (!) but its also at the point where I've been pregnant for So Long that it finally feels normal :)

But enough baby babble. The stuff spread all over our kitchen table (above pic) made me smile the other day, so I had to snap a shot. This is our life. The child drags in nature at every event. There were seedpods, a captured bug, a crown of sticky burs, a seashell and a few old cicadas thrown in to explore the mix. I can't seem to keep up with the collections, so I think we might make a giant project out of it. Or maybe two. I have some plans for our rainy winter that I'm kinda excited about...

Meanwhile, the child is growing into a stage of happy helpfulness. Of course, bursting with baby, this seems like ideal timing. In fact, he even stated he'd like to do some "chores." We already give him money every month, its something he was interested in a year or so ago and he is still very happily collecting his savings. (He's saving for a house;) Then, a few weeks ago, he said he'd like to earn his money. Tricky, tricky spot...

We told him we were all for him helping - super yay! But that we weren't super comfy "paying" him to help. That, to us at least, family just helps family, well, just to help ;) Much like we give him his share of the family money, just cuz he's part of the family. No strings attached. I make him breakfast out of love, not duty. We had a nice chat about it.

At the end of the conversation, he'd decided to get his money in smaller, weekly (rather than monthly) installments and do chores each week. This Sunday was the end of the first week and when I went to give him his Sunday sum, he reported he was no longer interested. He'd like to help out just to be helpful ;) He didn't take the money :)

This actually ties into the table, I swear :) So, today, as I was fixing our food, he noticed the table was, erm, less than pristine, as he went to set out the silverware and plates (something he independently started doing a few weeks ago). So he grabbed a rag and our vinegar spray and went to cleaning. As I sat the food down, he finished up and grinned at me, "Arent' you glad I'm so helpful?" Lol :))))

His comment reminded me of something he'd said last month as we headed to the grocer. Something to the extent (oh that I could remember his quote!) of how great of a kid he is. Apparently, we have no need to worry about his self-esteem at this point :) But he seems to have it grounded in some sort of spiritual spot too... As we cuddled to sleep the other night (oh the simple sweetness of the last nights as a family of three!) I kissed him and thanked him for being mine. "Your welcome," he said, "But you should really thank the Universe. I wasn't in charge of that." Phew. Self esteem? Affirmative. God complex? Negative ;)

Back in time for Not Back To School

2011-09-10T23:08:00.000-07:00

Oh my goodness, how good it feels to finally feel better! Three weeks is too long to be sick in the summer. And way too long for a six year old to put up with :)

And so when I offered an outing to OMSI on Thursday, the child raced to the car (in his pajamas:) We had a lovely outing before our midwife appointment and it was just So Nice to hang out together again.

Then, Friday was the Not Back To School party for homeschoolers, held at our little neighborhood amusement park (the one P previously visited with Uncle Seth). The child raced out the door for this too! It was a hoot to see how many homeschoolers there are here in Portland (lots) and great to be on another adventure with the Little Man. (Well, mostly great, minus the extra thirty pounds in the 90+ heat - ouch! Oy the timing;)

After playing a few bean bag toss games, the kid was ready for rides... only to realize he would be riding solo this time. A sad, sad moment. Honestly, the lady at the counter hadn't even asked me if I was buying a ticket for myself. After all, each ride accompanied one of these signs:

Now, don't get me started on Pregnancy being listed along side "ailments" here, but the general gist is correct. Nine months along and a swirling dervish don't necessarily need to meet. In pondering this reality, it was in this moment that it really struck home how much empathy the child has shown the last few months. I mean, he was really, really bummed I couldn't ride with him. But he didn't beg, he didn't barter or badger. He merely sunk onto a shady bench and looked so sad my heart broke.

This is the child who has started playing solo while I make breakfast. The child who has offered me to stay in bed if I'm still tired. The child who, when we're reading at night and I have to take a bathroom break, tries to help me unravel myself from my pillowed cocoon and stand. The child who, watching me have a hard time get comfy one evening, patted my cheek and said, "It must be really hard being sick and pregnant." The child who tries to help pull me to standing from the couch. The child who offered to do the dishes the other day.

That child, that sweet child who's been putting up with less and less of me had finally had enough. He said in a shaky voice that he sure wished there was something there that we could do together. Oh, the disappointment was palpable. Here he'd come, all excited, to an amusement park, and now he felt like he couldn't do anything there. And then we spied the miniature golf. Phew ;)

18 holes later :) the kid was ready to ride solo. Heck, a number of the rides he was interested in wouldn't allow any grown-ups, ailments or no. His smile grew, he ran into a few kids he knew, and the fun rose alongside the temperature.

Then I joined him on the tiny train that rides around the park. He was soooo pleased I agreed to ride something it was precious. As we rounded a bend, it jiggled a little bit and P grabbed me, asking, "Does that hurt you too much, Mama?" Could a heart just burst? Seriously.

Just about the time we were so sweaty we were ready to bail, a buddy of his arrived and reinvigorated the afternoon. Now he had a friend to ride with too! Granted, at different heights and different comfort levels, they had to talk a lot to settle on what they would ride together, but they worked it all out quite happily. And we closed down the amusement park that day :)

The Waiting Game

2011-09-02T20:51:00.000-07:00

(We don't have a full length mirror. When Seth and Alicia were here we walked past a very reflective window and I caught sight of my size.... "I'm huge!" I gasped. They all looked at me like, um, yah, that's what everyone's been telling you... :) I just tipped 140 lbs and my feet feel every extra ounce...) At any rate, here's the nine month bump.

P heard word that the baby is now full grown and I found him bouncing on the bed the other morning, chanting, "Finally, finally, the baby is coming!" When he caught sight of me he said, "Isn't it So Exciting?! The baby will be here So Soon!" He is beyond excited (having been looking forward to a sibling for, oh, say, 4 years or so;).

And while I'm really looking forward to meeting Little Miss, I'm glad she's waiting just a bit. For two reasons, really. I have been so sick. The last cold turned nasty and I finally fulfilled my midwives' orders by staying in bed for the better part of two days. I didn't even cook dinner (thank gawd for the awesome Polish lady's cart around the corner!). The child listened to books and watched movies and played quietly. And at the end of these two days, as E and I lay in the dark, ready to pass out, the child climbed allll over his father, trying his best to start something. Anything. Ethan responded kindly, but, being so tired, he didn't rise to the tickle challenge. Finally, the child moaned, "I need to playyyyyyy! I've been ignored for two days, and I'm sick of movies and sitting around!" Ah, the guilt. Its just never-ending :) But, honestly, he was an angel through it all.

And the second reason I've been happy to wait is that, here in Oregon at least, the official age for homeschool filing is 7 before September 1. "Please come after the first" I whispered to her every day... I mean, who doesn't want an extra year with no expectations? :) I'm loving the fact that we don't even have to file this year for P (not that filing was so rough last year in NYC or anything, its just nice:)

And so we have made it.

But the best part about being so sick while being so very pregnant is that it trumps the big bump hanging off of you. You may not be able to lay back and relax (because your silly baby, while not breech, is happily hanging in a posterior position - darnit - requiring forward leans and a straight back at all times to encourage her to turn). You may not be able to douse your woes with a potent OTC. But having a hard time catching your breath makes kicks to the bladder non-noticeable. And since you're unable to sleep through the sore throat and mouth breathing, all of those mid-night bathroom breaks are really just nicely timed options to blow your schnoz. And the immense pressure in your pelvic varicosity every time you hack and sneeze and blow will make the normal pregnancy pressure seem like a walk in the park. Yup, I'm thinking once this crud passes, my last days as a beached whale should feel like a holiday!

A holiday that needs to get busy, real fast. After a week of weakness, the house is in shambles. Yes, the Mr. is fabulous about helping keep the dishes done and the child cared for. But those drawers that exploded in the craft/dining room? Forgettaboutit. Not his area ;) And the toys strewn about or the (insert anything) piled around, well, not really something that bothers him. Which is nice (who needs a neat freak looking over your shoulder?!) But, the house looks likes its been battling the stomach flu and barfing its innards up (aka, had a six year old busying himself in an unbothered fashion;) and this absolutely defies my every nesting instinct. I can't even imagine laboring in this house at the moment. Not that there is floor space to even place the birthing tub right now...

But, other than working a little Mary Poppins magic, we should be good to go for the birth (which I know is getting close, as friends and family have started muttering the words "epidural" and "hospital" and "doctors" and "why??" to me;) The birthing kit has arrived. The extra sheets and towels are washed and ready. We (er, E) put together P's old stroller bassinet so the baby has a night-time spot until I'm comfy with her tiny-ness in my bed. I sewed some wool diaper covers from recycled sweaters (despite my complete lack of sewing knowledge, these instructions were really quite doable!). And the child, he lovingly prepared her a library and a play space.

The slanted ceiling of our bedroom creates a little cubby space dubbed "the secret passageway." The child set up his own library there and then his doll house. With the short ceiling, I've grimaced at the very thought of bending over back there.... meaning the space had disintegrated into mayhem in the last month. In a fit of nesting last week (how can I possibly have a baby with this crawl space messy? Lol.) I crawled back and tidied.

It is so sublime cleaning for this child because he is so very thankful. When he went into his space the next day he instantly noticed the difference and started ooing and ahhing and thanking me and telling me how amazing it looked :) Then, with all of the organized space, he was ready to set up his farm. Hours went by and his adoration of his passageway is at a new height. So I guess it only seemed natural to him that he would make it a happy place for the baby too. As I lay wheezing in bed a few days later, he dug out the box of board books and baby toys. (I swear "curator" is a future possibility for the kid, cuz he loves to arrange and classify and display collections.) On the floor with a soft sheepskin rug now rests a sweet compilation of his toys from his earliest days. And on the shelf beside his books are carefully organized his earliest board books. I had wondered if these would be "loaned" to the baby someday. Apparently, they have already been given. Here's hoping that spirit of sharing continues....

P, setting up his farm in the passageway.

At any rate, now that I'm at the end (still in shock over this, strangely enough... Like nine months of prep just hasn't been enough?!?) and have only a blog post or two to remember it all by, I thought I'd post the highlights. Because, much to my child's dismay, we won't be walking this particular path again (to which he's suggested adoption lol:)

Favorite Pregnancy Tidbits:

The shock of actually getting a positive pregnancy test.
Telling P we would have a baby. And watching him shine.
The relief of hearing a heartbeat.
Sharing the news with my parents.
P yelling to the baby through my belly. Or singing to the baby.
Feeling all of her sharp body parts bump and roll.
P and E being able to feel her daily hiccups.
Name picking with the boys. A real riot.
Seeing how excited the boys are to have a girl.
Feeling so loved and supported by friends and family - their excitement is awesome.
Knowing that this awful pregnancy acne will finally go away (Right? It will, right?!?!)
The ease with which I can down an entire cantaloupe. Or a bag of grapes. Or a bag of cherries. Or (fill in your favorite fruit:)
That, after all of the ouches, we will have a baby :))))
And that, finally, P will be what he has always desired. A brother.

How to walk the cat

2011-08-28T12:01:00.000-07:00

We've had a pretty mellow two weeks. I've been sick (twice!) during that time, (after a health-filled pregnancy I had to ask my midwife this week WTF?! She mentioned that slowing down could be the key at this late point in the party... d'oh;) but we've still been having fun in the sun. Just the sun that hits closer to home...

The garden is making us smile. Except for the weeds that (also) continue to grow with gusto, taunting me and my new inability to bend beyond halfway. (I think the baby has dropped? My midwife said this week that her head is waaay low (NOT breech!!! yay!!!) and my waddle has gone comically over the top.) So, if we ignore the weeds, we're all smiles. Especially since the tomatoes started turning and the child wanders in during the day, scented of that lovely earthy tomato vine scent, cheeks puffed out with cherry tomatoes, juice spilling down his chin... P picked this bounty last week and then set it up all pretty for a photo shoot. Cracks me up.

That's Bob, in the front. The photo doesn't really show it, but this tomato grew an enormous looking schnoz, perfectly complimented by the toupee-like top greenery and the Phoenix inspired green bean gams. Unfortunately, I'm guessing Bob will rot before he is eaten...

Our big news right now has to do with the cat. P has pleaded for a harness since achieving a backyard. Having had the cat on a harness before, we have been, erm, reluctant. But finally relented. The cat and the child couldn't be happier. While I know most families would let the wild feline wander at will (as proven by the numerous fat cats that frequent our yard and leave behind their kitty presents...), living on a really busy street with a very old but very adventurous kitty seems like a short term solution. We told P this was an option, if he so desired. But warned him that this would, in all likelihood, shorten her life. (After she zoomed out the door one night, unbeknownst to us till bedtime, and I walked the dark with a wailing child looking for our frisky cat, I was even more assured that we couldn't handle his nightly worry for her safety...) Long story short, he came up with the idea of a leash and she actually likes it. Well, she likes that it gets her outside... ;) And the child loves that he can have his dearest beloved beside him in the yard.

She chills in her chains in the shade while he burns things...

Being non-dog, she sometimes required more intense, erm, leash leading. Especially when her walker isn't very patient.

Proof positive that "she just adores it, Mama."

After all, how many felines are so doted upon? And given flower ringed necklaces?

Ethan has been a savior these last two weeks. Being sick so much and this pregnant kinda sucks, and he has really stepped up his already good game. Dishes, vacuuming, carryout, kid care, you name it, he's conquered it, and all after his 12 hour work days. P, loving to make and craft and E, not loving this so much, have found a happy medium in origami. One part brain puzzle, one part creation, they have made some lovely cranes and about a zillion paper airplanes. I've heard talk of an origami dragon....

We've also been reading a good deal when my throat cooperates. And sewing. I started some wool diaper covers from recycled sweaters and after achieving one, the child quickly decided he needed something sewn for him, too ;) And so it begins ;)))

And, of course, with warm weather but no trips to the pool , the hose and sprinkler have been a godsend (no, we have no water shortage issues here in the Pacific Northwest;). Here he climbs the porch, attempting to get away from his imaginary attacker. One lovely thing about being sick and pregnant is that he has very, very low expectations of me, occasionally leaving me the time to just sit and eavesdrop on his imaginings. Totally one of my favorite parenting past-times and worth every sniffle.

"Bad" Words.

2011-08-23T22:56:00.000-07:00

Water war over the wall.

Paper airplane making bonanza.

These three little blonde boys are so fond of each other its funny. And they are busy enough on different schedules (and school camp and travel for the neighbor boys) that their time together is just sparse enough to stay special. Special enough that P asks if he can go see them. every. day :)

And after the mum and I sat giggling at the boys' water war, waged over the fence, she pointed out to me, again, how fab P is. The water was off, the boys were wet rats rolled in mud and P (hoping to keep the good times going) quickly quipped, "Wanna try and melt some glue sticks with magnifying glasses?"

"See?" She nodded at me as the whirling mudballs moved back towards our backyard, "storybook character." Which is sweet to hear, since I sometimes miss the, erm, romanticism inherent in his messes....

And while there are plenty of differences between the boys to keep us all on our toes, their mutual appreciation of fun projects keeps them busy and, mostly, out of trouble ;)

Meanwhile, I'm still getting used to P disappearing for periods of time, sans Mama. They'll all flit over to their house for 15 minutes, then back to ours, then whir out front... and the house is So Quiet at these times, its just... weird.

But it gives P a chance to have, not only anonymity and independence, but stories. As they go their separate ways, he's so excited to tell me what's been happening, what he's seen, what they did... And then, the other night he said, "Mama, Abe said a really bad word."

This seemed a little shocking to me, as the child says "fuck" pretty regularly (at least for a 6 year old....) We've mentioned to him the words he uses that probably won't be so well received by general society and occasionally encouraged him to reconsider his word choices when we're out in the wide world, but otherwise haven't sweated the stuff. E and I have had long (sans child) chats concerning the subject and the general hypocrisy of it all, not to mention our seeming inability to occasionally curb our own curses....

At any rate, the child reported that he was worried I wouldn't let him play with Abe anymore if he shared, but he wanted to share. (I'm assuming this came from our chat about how the wide world would possibly receive P's profanities;) I assured him I was not worried and that his friendship was totally safe. And so he told me, the horrible, awful thing his friend said.

"Stupid. He called Emil stupid."

This, from the child who, thinking he had forgotten the grocery list just that afternoon had said, "Oh fuck. I forgot the list." I was so glad I was facing the sink when he shared :)

But also kinda tickled that he'd discerned the difference between personal expression (his forte in the fuck realm) and name calling (something he never hears at home.)

As the boys played on the floor yesterday, I heard P politely say, "Abe, could you please not call someone dumb? It feels so unkind." Abe, "Yah, ok." LOL.

Then, as we lay waking up this morning, he told me his plans. "If anyone ever calls my sister a scaredy-cat or crybaby (two things Abe has called his younger brother) I'll..." And then a long, drawn out description of the planned atrocities were described.

So, name calling, not looked upon highly, tar and feathering, fervently appreciated.... I'm fascinated to see how this actually plays out, once the baby isn't just an imagined ideal :)

Project Runway...

2011-08-17T23:28:00.000-07:00

Here we come ;)

Getting to talk to those I love is one of the (only) things I most miss (from pre-child days). The child does not like me on the phone. The typical response to this dismay is inappropriate behavior (pity the cat) combined with loud noise (a real challenge for phone calls;) So, generally, I just skip the phone... and figure real friends will still love me... in a few more years ;)

But today, I got a chance to talk to my folks and P actually busied himself... quietly! I love having our crafting stuff organized where he can independently get to it (ahhh, that extra bit of space actually does make life easier ;) and he loves getting into it and making stuff. Today, after weeks of (unsuccessfully) trying baby clothes and diapers on his oddly proportioned pink friend, he decided to just make the monster some clothes. I was so tickled with the result. Can you say haberdasher ;))))

Could you possibly...

2011-08-16T22:34:00.000-07:00

Seth, Alicia and P on the beach.

Pack more Joy into one week? For this six year old, no way. The child basked in the attention and love of his Aunt and Uncle, while having fun adventures, equalling the end all be all of his existence :)

First, the weekend getaways. (After the previous week's trek to the mountain lake left me so swollen and slightly grumpy, E and I agreed that more than my rock climbing days were over. Thus, much to my dismay, (but undoubtedly to the comfort of everyone else;) I stayed behind for both road trips...)

Saturday brought blue skies and Mount Hood hiking. I have no stories for this, but the kid said he had a blast :)

Sunday saw a foggy beach day with the same lovely hike we had conquered the month before and the same solitary beauty of Crescent Beach - but this time with the added bonus of Seth and Alicia :)))

One day, Seth and Alicia escaped for a romantic drive down the coast. The child was moved to melancholy ;) But ever the optimist, he grabbed the cat tightly after breakfast and declared, "Well, at least I can cuddle the cat today!" (Uncle Seth, being highly allergic to our Feline Wonder, can't tussle with the Little Man after he's held the cat. And the child, loving to tussle, begrudgingly gave the long suffering kitty a week's reprieve... except for that Tuesday;) He also found solace in his jewelry collection, creating masterpieces of bling...

We hit the river one afternoon. P quickly found some wood to set sail for BB's boat. And then took to launching rocks at it. Uncle Seth aided the attack.

We hiked a little in Forest Park one afternoon, too. Per usual, the child was consumed with the ginormous slugs (yes, there was one gruesome SPLAT!), the fallen trees and speeeeeeeed (racing Uncle Seth down the trail was a supremely satisfying way to satiate that particular need:)

After Uncle Seth flew away (sob) we had one lucky afternoon left with Aunt Alicia - yay! We traipsed around the Japanese Gardens, loving the shade on such a sunny day. Turns out, these gardens have a little sculpture based treasure hunt for their wee-est visitors. They also mentioned the word "prize" for completing said hunt. Well, the child typically likes to visit gardens just for the joy of the garden, and they certainly screwed that with their ulterior motives and prize! He was obsessed with finding the next item on his map and checking it off... but he did have fun ;)

As soon as he discovered a hidden treasure, he'd drop to the ground and mark it ;)

All in all, the child's week was short on sleep and long on fun. (There were lots of other adventures that... his mommy failed to photograph....) He awoke (early) every morning, So Very Excited to see his Aunt and Uncle. And every night he felt sleep a time-wasting curse :) E and I just hoped and prayed they had a good visit - that he didn't smother them with the intensity of his love (combined with his unbelievably strong need to be physically touching (or squishing, as is often the case...) those he connects with)! But thank goodness they did visit, because I dont' think the child could have gone much longer without them - the distance from his beloved Uncles (and Aunt:) being the only thing he claims to not LOVE about Oregon.

Happiness is...

2011-08-08T22:14:00.000-07:00

The attention of those you love. And dirt.

Seth and Alicia watch P's dirt show on Mount Tabor.

The sheer glee of tossing tons of dirt into the air. He scooped and flipped, over and over again...

And was very impressed with his dust clouds.

A few minor injuries required even more undivided attention. That inevitably transitioned to tickling ;) The child has been in a state of sleep deprived bliss for three days running now. Because there is nuthin' like fabulous family!

Insanely Excited

2011-08-07T12:08:00.000-07:00

Its finally arrived. Uncle Seth's and Aunt Alicia's visit. P knew they were flying in Friday night (post bedtime) and that he would see them Saturday morning. What did this mean (beyond an hourly countdown for the last week)?

It meant rolling around in bed, attempting to get to sleep for over an hour.

Then, it meant waking up at 2 AM and rolling around, unable to sleep until 7 AM. Then a light doze for 2 and a half hours and the declaration that he couldn't possibly consider staying in bed another second :)

When he got up, he counted his hours. 3 + 2 1/2 = 5 1/2. He figured this sufficient ;) Then he provided me with his theory on why the night had been so terribly difficult.

"What it was, Mama, is I don't think I was adequately hydrated and so my eyes were dry and they kept popping open. I just couldn't even keep them closed!"

I was going to go with plain ol' excited, but I like his explanation better :)

Tidbits

2011-08-02T22:42:00.000-07:00

I plugged my phone in to charge and realized I have some pics on it...

The drive back through the Gorge from Lost Lake. E and I just can't get used to the natural beauty here...

The Little Man, enjoying the view, playing with shadows (or something - honestly, who knows what the 6 year old is thinking here!:)

He catches me catching him and gives me his fierce look :)

I heart Oregon!

We picked a couple zucs the other day and left the plant alone for 3 days. Went back and holy moly - this is what we found. In just three days the babies had grown to giants. I can't wait to slice them into zuc chips and dehydrate them tomorrow!

P was pretty impressed with our accidental monstrosities.

As we got dinner together tonight, P busied himself, first in the garden and then in the cabinet and then arranged this as our centerpiece. I love fresh flowers and he was pretty pleased with himself. He explained his Master Plan for centerpiece design when his Aunt and Uncle come for their visit this weekend :)

And three little tidbits. As I was brushing my teeth this morning, P lay on the floor, singing a song to BB. I couldn't make it all out, but I heard the refrain of, "Two of my favorite things in the world, dear BB, is my baby sister and mama's neeneeeeee." Hhahahahahaah.

And Ethan, upon seeing me Saturday morning, (I swear, he concentrates so hard on his work all week that he doesn't actually "see" us sometimes until the weekend!) blurted out, "Wow - you're HUGE!" Yes, he tried to cover it. Yes, he tried to make it sound sweet. But, well :)

It wasn't anything new, really, Phoenix tells me how enormous my belly is. Daily :) This morning's revelation. "Mama! I know why your belly is soooo sooo big!" And here he came up to me and swept his sweet little hand down my sore, swayed back. "Because part of your back has disappeared into it!" Oh. my. gawd. I love kids!

Shame and some shots

2011-08-01T23:08:00.001-07:00

P took some shots with my phone when we were delayed by that wreck last month. I keep meaning to toss them up here...

Just a quick story for tonight, before I forget. The strangest thing happened! P found a little ball in the backyard and gleefully brought it in for me to wash. He took to bouncing it around and asked if he could bounce it off of the walls. I requested he play with it outside, it was too hard of a bouncy ball for indoors. But the momentum wasn't there, it was nearing bedtime, and I knew he had been wanting me to read to him, so I suggested I grab a chair to read on the porch while he smacked the ball against the house. Happiness!

So I stepped out back, grabbed the chair, walked through the house and when I hit the front door I could hear him. Bawling. Like, seriously, horribly, crying. I was instantly in the front, calling to him, worried, I couldn't even see where he was. He crept out of the bushes and covered his face. Still crying. So hard, I haven't seen him cry like this in forever.

Typically, when he's crying, I just hold him. I don't bother asking him what happened or anything, because me needing to know, sans blood flow, what's going on isn't as important as him being supported right then. But it was so out of left field and he was So Distraught, I begged him to tell me if he was hurt. "No," he choked back and looked at me. "You're going to kill me," he moaned and sputtered and covered his face, bawling again. Shame. I recognized it, finally. He felt awful about something.

I rocked him and held him and kissed him and reassured him and still he cried. It lasted a long time. I coaxed him inside (ok, I carried him;) and cradled him some more, my heart breaking that he would think I could be that upset with him. About anything!

I'm not an idiot, and I was once a child ;) So I'd quickly assessed the fact that there was ball play and now tears and shame. Something must be broken somewhere ;) But he didn't want to tell me what was broken. But yet he did. But yet he reeeally didn't. Each time he tried to start, he absolutely fell apart again. "A window?" I ventured? He looked at me in shock and hiccuped, "Noooo!"

Long story, and lots of reassurance (and time:) later, and we looked at the mirror above the couch that now wears a jagged break in the glass :)

He wanted to know how the mirror stacked up against this object and then that and then this object and then that lamp, in my heart. How important was it? And, he was very, very sorry. And maybe we could glue it? Or tape?

Honestly, I could care less about the mirror by then. I mean, I like our stuff, some of it quite a bit more than my Buddhist leanings mean to, but the only thing that really upset me was that he was so scared to tell me. I think I'm good, or at least ok, with accidents. I mean, they happen. And, typically, I grab a towel or the vacuum or the glue and we just fix what we can. Granted, I think I scowl when the accident is a direct reaction to something I've just requested stop happening, but still... I mean, who exploded the raw egg on the floor this morning? If any(clumsy)one knows that accidents happen, its me...

But, obviously, I need to work on it somehow. Because when he was trying to get up the courage to tell me his story, he looked up at me with his big, teary eyes and said, "Promise not to do anything I don't like?" And I thought, like what?!?! Beat you? Time-out you? Send you to your room?? We have no punishments here, no "consequences." Apparently, much like research has shown, those really, truly aren't necessary...

After realizing I wasn't in tears or mad or whatever he feared, he settled onto his stool, with his eyes all puffy, and ate his evening snack. Peppered with lots of questions. I reassured him, again, that as long as the people (and cat! and BB! he added) in the family were safe, I was all good. And that parents actually kinda appreciate these sorts of events. Because we've had lots of chats about throwing stuff in the house, and none of them could be nearly as effective as tonight's real life lesson ;) But, hopefully, he learned something even more important? That he can come to me, no matter what... cuz I can't think of anything more important for him to learn....

And I certainly learned that I have to... shit! I'm not exactly sure what I have to... But, obviously, something needs some work here on my end. Off to figure out how to be a better parent...

Lost Lake

2011-08-01T00:16:00.000-07:00

P had his first lake experience this weekend! Unfortunately, we, uhm, didn't realize it was a lake experience sort of expedition (yah, which one of us do you think did the research on this jaunt, eh?) and were completely unprepared to enjoy said jaunt, but that's another story ;)

We thought we were going to hike in the mountains by a lake. So we packed the picnic, the hiking boots (which, lo and behold, come to find out, as of this week can no longer stretch to fit swollen pregnant feet!), the polar fleeces.... Ya know, mountain hiking stuff. A little car sickness, a few pee breaks (I'm fairly certain I have now peed along more mossy roadsides in the last two months than many woman do in a lifetime...) and a very cranky (due to immense hunger and previously mentioned problems) pregnant lady later, we pulled into a... whathef*@#? A lakeside retreat. With boats and bathing suits.

Expectations are a bitch, really. E and I were immediately disappointed, having hoped for cool mountain air, conifers and quiet. Of course, this all has to be relayed through eye movements and sneaky sighs, so that the kid can translate his day without our bitchy baggage ;) The child, still fabulously living in the moment, popped out of the car, all vim and vigor, happy as a lakeside clam. Some picnic munchies later and our balancing blood sugar was able to try and meet the kid's happiness.

He actually said, "I am So happy!" When he jumped out of the car.

A little walk around the lake (to call it a hike would be blasphemy) and a little playtime by a tree base was all we could fit in before the child's extreme excitement about the boats he'd spied became the focus of the afternoon. So, we went to see a man about a boat.

The child was so excited, he walked this ledge all the way back, tapping his stick in time to a little ditty he made up. Something along the lines of "we're going to rent a boat!" Chanted over and over and over again ;)

They rented per hour and that sounded like about as long as E and I were interested in ;) But once we got out onto the lake, everything melted away into the peaceful mountain getaway we had originally hoped for. The weather was fabulous, the sun low enough for comfort, the backdrop really beautiful. Not to mention that the kid was t-h-r-i-l-l-e-d. He sat, completely captivated, watching his father, carefully looking over the edge for snakes or salamanders, barking out directions...

I am a geek. Family portrait ;)

After watching E row us for half an hour, the kid wanted a go. Oh my lord, that was one of the most enjoyable shows I've ever seen. Talk about unschooling in action. He set to it and worked it until he was actually moving the boat the way he wanted to. Granted, we did lots and lots of circles before reaching that point, but determination paid off. He paddled us back to shore, turning and angling like a mini-pro. I snuck a little video of him (see below) and his mouth movements when he's concentrating crack me up.

As do a couple of comments (that have been covered by the music - the sound quality was really shoddy.) First, after struggling in circles, he tries turning his body the other direction. He quickly realized this didn't work so well and turned back around, saying, "Getting the right position is weally twicky." Then, he asks "which direction are we going?" My ever supportive response, "Ummm, well, kinda circular..." :) And then, after he started nailing a rhythm, he asked if he was doing an even better job than Papa had ;)

On the way home (for which he sat, completely contentedly in his carseat - again -still blowing my mind! Is this the same baby boy that couldn't stand his carseat for 3 seconds when he was little? I keep expecting requests for DVDs or entertainment, but he seems to love to look out the window and watch the scenery fly past. Score for worry number one in moving out of the city...) At any rate, on the way home, he asked three times, when can we go back to Lost Lake??? Hehe, next time we'll know to bring water shoes, bathing suits and towels ;)

P and People

2011-07-28T23:22:00.000-07:00

I should get another shot tomorrow (since the thing was so much more obvious tonight) - but you can kinda see the immense shiner popping up on P's face, above...

I get the biggest kick out of hearing P interact with other people. And this week has had a couple of good ones....

When the neighbor lady came over to pick up her boys she grinned, "Phoenix is like a story book character." Me, "Wha?" Her, "Yes, yes! He came over and said, "I just smashed these bells by hand, and they have these tiny balls inside. Want to come over and try?" Apparently, her boys couldn't get out the door fast enough for this sort of invite. One point for totally random child and his constant cockamamie projects....

We went to the dentist the other day (P was long past due and he'd recently complained about a sensitive canine). Score for Portland, we actually landed an unschooling father as our dentist!!! P was (surprisingly) pretty excited for this experience and was such a pal during his visit that the technician kept looking at me in shock and saying six year olds aren't usually so good. I was chuckling inside at how extensively the child seems to have picked up on social expectations without any explanation and how well he played the game. I mean, it was full. on. charm. (Because we all know, darling or no, he's an expert at bouncing off of the walls too:) When he was finally chatting with the dentist, he said, "Well, basically, I've been having some uncomfort with this tooth right here. (Point to top left canine and continue talking with finger still slightly in mouth.) Basically, I think the enamel is worn off of the bottom of my canine." The doctor backed up the hypothesis, but assured the Little Man that his teeth are tip top, well used or not :)

What's really funny to me is how he seems to have absorbed some social expectations (be an angel at the dentist), but totally missed others (privacy). Like with his tush. Its been red for weeks, since eating some foods he has reactions to. Strangely enough, it didn't disappear by itself after a few days, and then weeks, so I suggested we see a doctor. He was adamantly opposed. We chatted about it occasionally over a period of weeks. He, staunchly saying that he would go to no one that would prod, poke or pry or give him some shot or something. (Between his eye surgeries and then that doctor botching my spider bite diagnosis, the child has developed some, erm, opinions :) We finally landed on a naturopath and he was thrilled with how his visit went. The drops she gave him to take are kinda timed, so I had to call him away from his neighborly yardtime the other day for a dose. I was very discreet, feeling tushie rashes might be a private matter for a six year old boy. Oh, nope! When he reached the door and understood what was going on, he ran back outside and shouted to his friends, "I'll be right back! I just have to take some drops for my red tushie!" Oh the innocence of it all, it just kills me :)

And last week, we went out to dinner. P has been longing for a pizza akin to Anthony's, rather than the Cali style pizza, seemingly popular here. We hit the jackpot with Ken's. Everything was amazing, from the ceasar to the roasted veggies and, most importantly, the wood fired pizza margherita. I thought we were all super satiated as we emptied our plates. So, imagine my surprise when the waitress asked how we liked our meal and the Little Man spoke up, "It was good, but I didn't like my pizza as much as I liked my Mama's. There was a slight fennel flavor to mine. Her's didn't taste like fennel at all." The waitress was awesome. She (after laughing, of course) told P that there is a fennel pizza on their menu and perhaps his was in the oven beside one of those, absorbing some of the fennel flavor. The child figured she was right.

And last, but not least, is the neighbor girl across the street. P loves older girls. Like, l.o.v.e.s. He has watched her play with friends in the driveway, watched her set off fireworks from his bedroom window, and even met her Mama a few times. But, alas, he has yet to actually meet her. And he told me that he wants me to arrange that. Yeesh. Asking me to talk to a stranger is about the worst thing he could request. I find it amazingly, ridiculously painful. The child seems to be catching on to my lame limits and, when we are in a store and can't locate an item, it is he that marches up to a sales person to ask for help. Pathetic, I know, but true. And, honestly, the fact that the child doesn't quite understand social customs doesn't help any. He has suggested we invite them all over for dinner, suggested we go over and ask them to just come to our house to play, suggested we see if she wants to come play in the sprinkler...

After avidly avoiding all of these scenarios for the last two weeks, my time was running out. So I suggested we bake something and take it by. We picked a ripe zucchini, made some muffins and then the child methodically wrapped them in wax paper, a pink bit of yarn and then some gold glitter strands ("I'm just decorating it a bit, Mama. Think I should add some of my stickers?") We marched across the street and knocked on the door. To the child's great dismay, they weren't home.

The neighbor boys came over later that afternoon. As they headed home, P, ever the gift giver, grabbed the carefully constructed package and handed it to their Mama. I guess you snooze, you lose :)

Of course, today, he was ready to bake something new and walk across the street again. Thankfully, for the wussy Mama, we had plans to swim...

Hot enough to burn a hole in you.

2011-07-27T00:07:00.000-07:00

P, with a few of our first zucs and our outrageous corn, pumpkin, tomato and zucchini plants in the background.

This almost seems mean... but I'll do it anyway ;)

So, its been a bit, well, warm, in our home states. I can only imagine what that fourth floor walk-up feels like right now in NY. And I can only too easily imagine the suffocating blast encountered when walking out the door in Kansas. What we never imagined, moving here, is tossing on a cardigan... in July.

Now, I hear that this is an unseasonably cool summer. So, we could expect a little more warmth next year (assuming the winter isn't so morosely dark in penance for such summer perfection that we flee in tears before then...), but it still won't touch the humid misery we're used to in July and August. It is, in a word, glorious.

The nights are so cool that an open window leaves us peacefully sleeping under sheets, despite the daytime, sun warmed second floor bedroom. The main floor is cool all day, I've even used, gasp, my oven. In July! Painlessly!

After a lifetime of hot summers, E and I are, honestly, shaking our heads in wonder every day. It just doesn't seem right. Fair. Possible...

And gardening (one of the things I most looked forward to after so many years with just a window ledge or fire escape) couldn't be more different here than in Kansas either. Our lovely rental yard, that, according to our neighbors, has been ignored for the last three years, is bountiful. The coolest things keep popping up, without any encouragement:

Found: climbing the fence.

I've been hacking back the grapes so that they don't take over the entire yard (literally). Ditto the catmint, the flowers, the raspberry bushes and the hops.... I'm used to pampering plants, watering every other day due to drought like summers, covering for crazy summer hail storms. Here, I've turned the hose on... once. We'll have a few days of sunshine, then maybe a cooler day for a break, then, just as the plants seem like they might need a sprinkle, we'll wake to a light drizzle that sends down just enough to satisfy for when the sun emerges later that day. Its eery, really, to get such bounty from so little effort. Its also a blessing, since bending over to weed or water is so very undesirable right now :) I worry its planting unreasonable gardening expectations in the child though :) Who is Loving the idea that he is growing his own food. In fact, he thinks there's so many zucchinis and pumpkins coming in, that we should start selling them to the store across the street ;)

As a side note, the child is still enjoying his outdoor access immensely, especially with the lovely (sorry, Mom!) weather. So much time is spent at the fire pit its almost silly. If its not with matches, its with his trusty magnifying glass (thanks, Aunt Alicia!!!) He's coming up with all sorts of experiments. My favorite from this week was his attempt to build a contraption over his homemade fire that would boil water :)

His least favorite was his experiment with BB. Would BB burn if the magnifying glass was pointed his direction? Yes indeedy, the pink polyester monster does burn. And, despite P turning the pointed rays away from the monster as quickly as possible, the poor thing was still left with a large (enough) burnt ring.

I can't express how much the child loves this creature. Were I not so tired, I would do a sweet little BB photo montage here, since he's been in so many photos over the last four years. Out of laziness, I'll just use the one P shot the other day, after sitting all of the BB's together. He said they looked so cute together, he just had to get a picture. Unfortunately, I think he was bouncing about too much for the phone to focus;)

Each has a purpose. There's Wet BB, he's the larger lumpy one on the right. He enjoys long walks in the surf, being sprayed by the sprinkler and the occasional bath. There's Little BB, who enjoys riding in trucks. There's Medium Sized BB there in the back, who enjoys being drug along on long walks (by a string) and attached to P's pants (with his permanent safety pin accessory). And then there's just BB. He's the star of the show, the main monster. He gets the most attention, but when he's nowhere to be found, the others play back-up. Notice, the missing mouths, the mangled arms, the paint splotched ears, the shaved fur and the lumpy bodies. That all spells l-o-v-e.

It was Wet BB that was burned. And P was mortified. He tried to be tough. He tried to problem solve it (call the company and ask them to send us some regular BB fabric? Use the not-quite-right pink fleece we have and get it really dirty, shave it free of its softness and then sew it on?) Eventually, he grew pretty mad at himself. That's a new thing. For the longest time, P was pretty sure he was perfect. In fact, this last winter, he heard a children's song that said something about how nobody's perfect and he was (I'm not even kidding here) quite confused :) This time, he was confused about why he would do something so dumb. Yuck. Its hard for me to watch him lose his perfect innocence :(

After plenty of processing, we did surgery. He got out his trusty doctor's kit, gleefully, yet worriedly, gave BB a large shot of anesthesia, right in his new hole... and half looked half covered his eyes as I stitched up his best buddy. (I heard him ask the neighbor boy the other day, "Do you want to meet my best friend? His name is BB. You can meet him and my mom will play with us.")

After a few more "shots" and some "medicine," the monster was saved. P said he'd learned an important lesson. And I secretly ordered one of the last BB dolls around off of Amazon that night....

Big Brothers and other stuff

2011-07-22T00:54:00.000-07:00

My little brother texted me today and P, suddenly ignored (hehe;), busied himself with the baby. I overheard him telling her to not grow anymore, that he thought she might be hurting me. And that he was ready to play. And would she wake up and kick, please?! He "plays" with her each morning as he wakes up and yells into my belly regularly. He also sings the Harry Potter theme song to her daily, to, you know, make her happy :)

Just a couple of "pink" thoughts tonight, since E brought up the whole "girl" thing today, saying he was really looking forward to experiencing a little girl this time around. I'm very curious to see how the sex difference plays out here. Personally, as much as I love my manly man, I love the gender free role approach some parents (I'm thinking of that Swedish couple from last year who's preschooler is completely unlabeled by sex) and even schools (where is my link?!?! I'll find it...) are attempting. I've freely remarked on how much bullshit I feel American gender roles are, and E and I are doing our damndest to give P the chance to be P, whether that be while wearing (gasp) pink and cooking or doing sit-ups in the mud (both of which can happen, almost simultaneously on any given day :) And I find it highly offensive that either would be blinked at or labeled. I won't go all soap-boxy here, but will say that the recent victory in NY has me hoping for the erasure of gender/sex inequalities, in all its nasty forms, by the time my kids are of age....

Nevertheless, I'm curious if the husband, who is so not into striking the manly pose or talking the manly talk (and is beautifully comfortable with his son in long hair or buzz cut) will feel the same way about..... daddy's little girl? While he doesn't try and "toughen" P up at all, I'm not sure the reverse will be true... For example :) I recently teased him that I hope he doesn't pamper the future Little Miss, like he does the freaking cat, who he has always babied (as he watched me give her, gasp, tap water and said, "oh, I always give her filtered water" - hint hint:)

What, the cat not quite enough of a future predictor? Fair enough. How about our conversation on kid carrying. The Little Man, staidly six and a HALF, still loves to be carried. Due to his bouncy nature and Brooklyn's busy streets, we often swept him up as a toddler when he would have been happy to stretch his wee toes (but was typically happy to be carried, too.) This became an entrenched ideal and he figures being carried as a true act of love. Looking ahead, with the infinite wisdom that all second-borns are tortured by, I mentioned to E that as soon as she was walking, we'd, by gawd, let her walk. Even if this meant infinite patience (the kind only city parents, whose kids walk everywhere, slowly, know the mind-numbing pain of). To which E replied, oh, no, I'm going to carry my little girl. I'm reallllly looking forward to that. Awww, melt, sweetness... mixed with a simultaneous... shit! Case in point? We'll see...

So, when I was expecting P, rather than reading birthing books (denial), one of the parenting books I read was on how to raise emotionally healthy boys ("Raising Cain"). An eye opening book for a '70's raised midwestern girl, to be sure. After all, I wasn't a boy, had no idea how boys truly experienced life, and had internalized a lot of the pressures and expectations placed on those wee shoulders culturally to boot.

But now, I am a female. And a liberated, feminist one at that ;) It hadn't really crossed my mind to read a book on how to raise a girl, I feel a little more experienced in that area ;) But, delving just a level deeper, I'm realizing there is a LOT to think about and question, just like there is with boys.... In an ideal world, everyone that ever meets this little girl will have at least read this sweet little article, as a small and partial introduction to aiding the emotional health of the world's future women. I agree with her wholeheartedly. Little girls in little dresses are adorable. And editing those ooohs and ahhhs are really freaking tough. But I'm nothing if not fabulous about pretending to live in an ideal world ;)

The second "big social issue" I've had fleeting thoughts on, as B-day finally approaches, is public lactation :) Or, hell, even home lactation with family or friends around! With P, it was all so new, my comfort level was so tied to what I felt were societal expectations. We were living in Kansas in the beginning, not a real hospitable place for the breastfeeding movement ;) I had only seen a nursing mother, like, twice, in my life. Fast forward years of nursing and seeing hundreds of women feed and comfort their babies and... it finally feels like the second nature that it should.

But, back to that ideal bubble I like to promote in my mind ;) Seeing fabulous ideas like this remind me that not everyone is comfortable with boys with long hair or babies eating the way babies are supposed to eat. And, honestly, after cringing under hot nursing covers and leaving meal after meal to feed my baby in a bathroom stall (rather than, gawd help me, raise some old biddy's eyebrow), Little Miss will benefit from yet another second-born bounty: boobs on demand without Mama mortification.

And if she grows up to be a beauty pageant addict or P becomes a hairy, pro-football player (just to culturally generalize;), so be it. They will have (hopefully) followed their bliss, rather than some culturally defined do's. And I'll have (hopefully) helped someone see nursing as natural, while getting to eat my food, still hot :)

(Scary thought, but, I think, though not a clueless first-timer like last time, that I just may be veering towards that same clueless idealism experienced just before the reality of it all comes crashing in.... Oy :)

Baby Update: birth planning and stuff

2011-07-19T23:55:00.000-07:00

That fire pit just doesn't get old, apparently. It turned too cool for swimming today (a slight difference from that heatwave smacking Kansas) so the child played with a different element for the afternoon....

I realized last week that I haven't said much about the baby or baby plans, so just wanted to journal that a little bit. Feel free to skip this post, it will most likely bore you, dear (all 5 of you) readers :)

Apparently, I'm in my 8th month (yes, Mom, that is EIGHTH, with emphasis ;) and the baby updates have started saying things like, "your little one will be here in just a few weeks!" Ummm, I'm not so hot with numbers, but there's still about 8 weeks left here...

Nevertheless, it has helped me really realize that I think things are going to go down and a baby will be born. Yes, its been many, many months of denial, with just a few moments of clarity. After thinking it wouldn't ever happen again, and then miscarrying and such, I think my defenses were high and my expectations low. But I'm feeling pretty darn attached to this Little Miss now, and awfully excited to meet her.

So, this week, the diapers (P's adorable kissaluvs - oh how they are the sweetest little things you've ever seen!! and some organic prefolds) have been washed. The little kimono shirts (the better to not pull her wee head off with) folded. The tiny baby leggings (the better to EC with) gently stored. Some soft sherpa squares for wipes are stacked. The wrap and sling are ready to hold her sweet sleeping form and free my hands for P. The blankets are waiting to warm her. I still need to get a wool pad for her to sleep on by me and a pre-fold belt for ECing, but otherwise, I think her bodily needs can now be met.

And speaking of her body! She's, apparently, almost 4 pounds now. And packing on about half a pound a week. Her lungs are finally mature and her skin is pink rather than red and translucent. She's, basically, fully cooked, minus the fat, some bone solidity and some brain folds. This, of course, means she's taking up a lot of real estate. My stomach is finally cramped into my ribs, providing me with nightly heartburn (something I never, ever experience otherwise.) My quick shots of apple cider vinegar to combat this burn so beautifully that I briefly feel almost pre-child, but without the spins ;)

I think she is head down already (P was staunchly breech almost to his due date, so we had to have external version performed - yuck! But it worked!!!) because it seems her feet are getting into my ribcage regularly :) I feel like I'm carrying her high too, but who knows ;) And, unlike with P, I can feel her hard, squirmy body parts really well. Sometimes shockingly well! As in, oh, that's her upper thigh and if I follow that bump there's a butt - and her back! Maybe P hung out more towards the back of my uterus, maybe it was because it was just his huge head constantly bonging into my bones rather than smaller body parts flailing around, but I definitely notice her moving more than the Little Man did. I mean, he was active enough, but there were long hours when there would be nothing (and of course I'd worry and have to drink something cold and sweet:) With her, there's little downtime, she seems to be noticeably flip flopping all. the. time. And she, apparently, practices her tango, religiously, every night from ten till twelve thirty. She's also good about waking me a few times a night with swift kicks and big flops, and then typically adds a nice right punch to the bladder, just to get my attention, around 4:30 each morning. Her bumps have grown so big that I had a dream the other night she was pushing her way out... right below my ribcage. There was soft brown hair and eye's like E's and she asked if she could come out now. No, no, I told her, not quite yet, and I pushed her back in and closed the flap from which she tried to escape. Ahhh, pregnancy....:)

Now I have to focus on getting the birthing supplies ready. I'll know more after Thursday, when the midwives come for their home visit, but I think the general gist is to have lots of towels and some spare sheets? I'm soooo glad E agreed to a homebirth this time. I can't imagine what the last birth would have been like in a hospital (well, actually, I can, I just don't want to. Can anyone say C-section?) and I'm glad we won't even have to mess (fingers crossed, that is;) with a midwive's clinic this time.

When we were expecting P, I read a million parenting books. We were clueless, I like to do research. Of course, before you have a kid, you are the best parent on the planet and the research just gives you philosophical backing to your brilliance. You don't officially suck and have any idea of your supreme suckdom until the kid is out.

This time, knowing of my infinite suckdom already, and having covered and re-covered from all of those books, I'm focusing on what I adamantly ignored last time around. The basic fact that the baby must come out. Somehow or another :)

Sure, we went to childbirth classes at the midwives' clinic last time. And I still felt infinitely able... and, simultaneously, completely clueless for about 30 hours of extreme intensity. Granted, this time it isn't my first rodeo. But, since I fear age (read: comparatively shitty shape here, 7 years later ;), SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction - basically, a fucked up pelvic this time around) and this wretched vein issue I'm having (all likely due to P's birth) will infringe on that "infinitely able" feeling I had before... I'm hoping to combat that by eradicating the "completely clueless" bit. Hopefully book-smarts will make a difference here :)

At the very least, my reading has helped me feel less fear. I finally realized a month or so ago that I was scared shitless to give birth again. While I have quite fond memories of the amazonian abilities I acquired during P's birth, I also have a very distinct memory of driving home a couple hours after his birth. I turned to E and said something like, "I need to tell women everywhere that they should, under no circumstances, Ever Get Pregnant. Never. Ever."

He agreed.

So, I've had to do a lot of soul searching, to figure out what, exactly, I was scared of this time. The labor I could handle. I didn't really notice the dreaded "transition." The length, though not my exact favorite, was fine. Last time, that is. When I was still walking miles before birth, climbing ladders to paint the house, and just generally comfortable. I realized I'm worried I won't be able to go that long this time, for the aforementioned reasons. I didn't experience the "ring of fire," since poor little P had to be vacuumed (and therefore, I sliced.) So, that one is more just a curiosity at this point. So, after lots of thought, I think its the endurance worry coupled with the memory of my midwife holding back a cervical lip. For over 6 hours. The contractions felt like ice cream compared to that. So, I've basically made my midwives swear that they won't touch my freaking cervix. Let me go even longer, chillax on the couch and stare, just don't yank on my insides during my contractions. That is hell realized.

So, half of my fear is shaken. They will be creative and patient and I will be at home to relax and do my thing. That will hopefully not take quite as long this time :)

And when I was reading (another) birthing book the other night, I read just what I needed (I love it when that happens:) to help with the other half. The author said something to the extent that we are still ourselves when we are giving birth. That how we approach our days and our lives are symptomatic of how we approach our births. And it hit me. I feel capable (except when driving:) and strong in my life. And that's exactly how I felt during P's birth. I never said I was ready to give up - that thought didn't occur to me. I do distinctly remember telling E, once, after the whole cervical lip thing started, "I don't like this part." But that was my only complaint for the two days. I didn't plan that, or read about it to do it, it was just how it was. So I have to trust that it can be that way again this time. That I can do this, old and wonky-walking or no :) There's that, and I'm banking on a smaller baby :))))

During the week

2011-07-19T00:56:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to toss up some pics of what our weeks have been looking like. I'm finding myself more and more drawn to just hanging out close to home these days (natural nesting? simple contentments? driving freaks me out? (don't even bother asking me about that street that was one-way and then... suddenly, it seems, was not... d'oh!) Typically, back in Brooklyn, the child often had to be cajoled for a jaunt. Back when I was lively and willing (er, dying to escape our flat for some fresh air). But life is fu-u-nny. Now, I'm pretty content to just walk into the yard and dig a bit (or sit on the couch with my feet up and read to him;), and its the kid suggesting stuff he wants to do :) I love, luuuuuv, his excitement and ideas and just his genereal joie de vivre. (Speaking of, in accordance with his newfound language fascination, dinners often begin with him asking, "Mama, do you have bon appetite for sugar snap peas tonight? I sure do." Teehee) First, the close-to-home stuff:

Speaking of good appetites... Oranges are too fun... P's been juicing for E. He loves the chopping and whirring...

Owl Pellet Dissecting. P went through a whole period of reading books about owls (mostly fiction, but with supplemental stuff:) and he became fascinated with owl pellets. When he found out you could actually DISSECT one and claim the bones within, well, the little collector was sold. Mama, however, never got around to ordering the damn things (blech;) But just days after Grams found out it was on the long-term wish list, the child was holding owl puke in his hot little hand, rodent skulls and all. Oh the joy of it all!

The park up the street from us. We're kinda in love with it.

E and P watch the tall trees blow in the wind. It sounds different here.

And then, P announced last week he was desperate to swim. Desperate. Shoot. Public pools in Brooklyn intimidated me. Beyond the great schlep, there were all of the rules. Like, white t-shirts only (gang issues.) The child, nor I, even own white t-shirts. You are allowed nothing but a towel into the pool area. Well, this kid doesn't travel lightly, so... The list went on, but, fortunately, the kid never really needed more than the sprinklers there, so it was a non-issue. With this sudden longing popping up here though, I hoped it would be a bit easier, kinda like everything else has been so far ;) And, um, yah, it was :)

The free pool time today lasted for three hours. You can tell from the shots, it still wasn't that busy. Pool time in July, to a NYer or Kansan with red hair (and a blonde child) means one thing, really: sunburn (or stroke;) The typical high 70's here during the summer made that a non-issue. I was neither hot nor cold, sunstruck nor miserable. When I was hungry (duh, pregnant;) there was a nice chair for me to sit in by the pool and eat my snack. There were a million eager lifeguards on duty so that my son, were he to somehow start to drown in the balmy, 84 degree heated, gradually deepening wading pool (that never got higher than his chin), I needn't worry about being fast enough on my fattening feet. The bathrooms were so clean I would have eaten off of the floor and the after-shower had the child proclaiming he is now a "shower lover." Honestly, I was shocked, shocked at how delightful of an experience the whole thing was. We plan to go back tomorrow.

And all of this, while surrounded by towering trees and a gorgeous park (minutes from our house)! I keep pinching myself...

He even got to do a water slide.

The kid also decided he really, really wanted to check out the science museum. OMSI is not AMNH (sob) but, its pretty darn cool. And really close to our house. And the kid didn't say anything about the missing dinosaurs... Of course, they had a huge sand area, so, really, he could have given a shit less :) We also met up with some fantastic unschooling friends, so P had a blast. (Its the only shot I thought to take - sorry for the lame photo:)

I think one of the reasons we're so happy to hang at home now is due to the luck we had with this rental. P is reeeeally enamored with the neighbor boys and they play a Lot. The younger one may not be the best match for P, and the older one is introducing the Little Man to more "typical" kid behaviors (I'm so used to being around unschooled/consensually parented kids that mouthy, sarcastic or judgemental chitchat is vividly surprising to me) but, they climb back and forth over the fence to bang sticks and such and I try and stay out of it lest my Mama Bear-ness fuck up his fun :)

The other big boon to home happiness is this yard! What was basic when we moved in has blossomed in the last month of sunshine into a wonderland. As P and I enjoyed (3-D!!!) sidewalk chalk tonight, I looked around the front yard and, once again, couldn't believe I actually live here. Its kinda fun feeling lucky :)

Its a small yard, but its shockingly pretty to me!

Drove the Chevy to the levee, Papa, don't let Mama die...

2011-07-15T23:34:00.000-07:00

P wanted some beach time last Saturday, but we (I;) wasn't up to the long hike into Crescent. E hoped we'd hit low tide and sneak into Crescent Beach from Cannon Beach. It was a perfect plan, if not for the fact that tight timelines aren't really our specialty :)

The Little Man could have cared less. There was a large dune to run down along with ample sun and surf at Cannon. But the beauty of leaving a very busy metropolis and furthering our options beyond Coney Island, is not being amongst a lot of people :) So we found a secret-ish spot just off the main beach and its bustling tiny town, had a great picnic and tried to race across the sand in time to hit that low tide... My waddle and P's crawl (he was busy being Woof-Woof) may have slowed us a tad bit ;) As we rounded our hopeful spot, waves sprayed, announcing our lateness. Whoops. Well, there was this lovely rock-face we could climb over....

E and I had barely glanced at one another to confer before the child, sensing the solution, was already scaling the wall.

It was steep, but there were plenty of handholds and good footing and the rocks were, ahem, rock solid (har-har), with no slide. I figured it would be totally doable. And, really, it was. But, about half way up, that silly little thing called pregnancy (8 months now!) gave me vertigo (I never really have issues with heights) and I closed my eyes and leaned into the wall to regain equilibrium. No sweat. E, who really treats me like an equal, no babying or bothering (which I appreciate) noticed and used his frantic voice (this guy is soooo not cool when worried that its actually funny). This, alerted the child who, apparently assessing the situation (E was closer to me than he was) shouted out, "Papa! Don't let Mama die!"

Broke. My. Heart. And made me chuckle :) But, lesson learned. We're done climbing until this baby comes out. There is no more denying it, I am very pregnant :)

Atop the rocky face was a lovely incline of wildflowers. The boys, full of hope, raced to the top... only to find a sheer drop off on the far side. No Crescent Beach for us! And no wonder it was so vacant when we were there the other weekend. Its a wee challenge to get to.

The view was lovely.

Back down we went. P figured any beach was still a beach :)

He chanced upon a tidal pool and went into discovery mode.

Then, sand play. Poor BB, he was buried. Alive. A feather was used to mark his grave. P malevolently chuckled as he bounced and danced above the buried monster, saying the sand, mysteriously, was extra sproingy... BB, where are you? Check out this bouncy sand! BB? Mwahahaha.

Per request, Ethan dug P another huge hole. The child wanted to check it out and was lowered in.

Right side up, he wasn't as impressed with its depth....(though the dedicated father had dug till he hit water)

The poor pink monster was eventually unearthed and taken for a nice dunking, er, swim...

P bouldered for a bit after his sand and water needs were met. Then we had another picnic and headed home for an early evening. En route, P discovered his other new favorite song (since E required a brief break from Akufen's "Train to Barcelona":), Don McLean's "American Pie." The child sang the chorus over and over and over this week, trying to work it out. Not knowing what a lot of the words meant, he filled in what he could with repetition. So, for the first few days, it went something like this, "drove the levee to the levee but the levee was dry. And good ol' boys, whisky whisky and die, this will be the day that I diiiiiiiieeee." Now, he's also become really interested in foreign languages in the last couple of months, requesting tutors and the whole nine yards. He spends inordinate amounts of time speaking in "foreign tongues", trilling his letters and rhyming (he typically sounds very Italian). So he incorporated this into McLean's work with the bestest rolled "r" in the world in "dry." E and I had to work overtime not to chuckle at the cuteness, as this is highly insulting to the child. Finally, around Wednesday, he nailed the lyrics and told me he was proud of himself :) Now, if I could only find a way to catch a performance on a video....

Real Work

2011-07-14T00:14:00.000-07:00

P, experiencing his first, very own backyard sprinkler moment. He sprayed it straight in BB's eyes. He was very pleased with himself.

My dad sweetly reminded me today that I still have a blog :) P has been going through some (seemingly) rapid changes and challenges the last week, gobbling up my every last bit of energy, patience and problem-solving pride. I'm not sure what's wonky with him, where its coming from (developmental? the rash? growth spurt?) but, true to Little Man form, he seems to feel best when smothered in luuuuuv. Result? Me, off radar ;) Sorry, dad :)))

Working some compost into his garden.

One of my favorite things about living out of the city (hahaha! I think of this as living "out of the city," but our neighbor was just saying something about her "poor little city kids"! I thought, this is the freakin' boonies! But, seriously, the boonies don't have traffic (or foot traffic) and a grocer across the street, so... obviously its all quite relative :) At any rate (oh, could I be more rambly tonight?!), one of my favorite things here is that P can experience "real work." And how much he loves this. Now, don't get me wrong, I luuuuved Brooklyn. But the closest thing he saw to human work there was... E coming home from a long day. Or dishes and mopping. Or going to the market. And though he did dig mopping, most of our bill paying parental parts were not so kid friendly.

Harvesting (and eating;) our raspberries.

One day's "crop."

Here, he is our little shadow. Trim the grape vines up? Lemme do it, Mama!. Mow the yard? I'll push the mower, Papa! Plant the garden? Water the garden? Sweep the porch? Pull the weeds? Harvest the berries? Mash the jam? Feed the compost pile? Double, triple check. He wants to do it Alllll. Hisself.

Helping the neighbor shovel her mulch (with her sons, P's new BFFs:)

Of course, for two perfectionists who like to efficiently finish a task, this extra set of helping hands can feel more hinderance, less help... But that's our issue ;) So, as the occasional bunch of grapes were lost to an extra-zealous trim tonight, I took deep breaths of humus-y earth and told myself not to snatch the clippers.

With the cooler weather, the garden rarely (from a Kansan's point of view) needs a tap top-off, but one warm day, the lettuce and peppers looked kinda wilty, so I dug a sprinkler out of the cellar. Oh the joy of the child. He had grabbed his rain boots and stripped down before I blinked. So we aimed it towards the grassy spot... much to the melon's dismay, and relinquished our petty "perfectionistic" wants :) The child, he quickly decided he loves to "help water the garden" ;) In these moments, E and I give each other loooong, meaningful gazes. The ones that say, "Don't fuck with the kid! He's anxious to help, we don't want to squash this love of doing... even if it ruins the freakin' xy or z...." Oh that we (and our garden, lawn and compost pile) have some small measure of success... At the very least, the kid is having a blast doing some real work :)

Crescent Beach

2011-07-06T23:03:00.000-07:00

We totally hit the beach jack-pot this weekend! I was less swollen, the kid was psyched, the picnic cooler was packed and we were ready to roll...

To a dead halt. We're guessing now it was an accident. But the highway to the beach came to a stand-still for a bit and we crawled across the countryside. Not wanting to plant worried seeds in little minds, E and I just exchanged "this does not bode well - holiday weekend" glances. Then, just like that we were zooming through the mountains... Phew.

We're (in our limited experience;) used to empty Oregon beaches. And while it was reassuring that we could easily find a place to park on the July 4th weekend, I dreaded our quiet escape had converted into Coney Island for the summer. The smaller lot we had planned to visit was full and there were actual other humans mulling about...

So, we picnicked and tried to put together our new plan. We spied a trail sign for Crescent Beach, warning hikers that it was an advanced trail, muddy and steep. Hmmm, this seems like just the sort of thing that would send the flip-flopped tourists another direction... I suggested we do it. It was only a mile and a half in. The kid was game. E reminded me I sometimes have trouble walking these days :)

The scenic overlook. The big bag? Almost entirely dedicated to digging toys and water... The beach beyond the lookout? Our destination... P's bag? BB of course! With his favorite (real) dog (his imaginary one, Woof-Woof, is always with us...) Poodlena.

The hike was gorgeous. It alternated between canopied forest and little meadows with breathtaking views.

The high cliffs both called to P and made him a wee bit nervous.

(Belly shot, Dina!;)

The child has been hiking on his own two heels really well lately, but this one tuckered him out. Super Papa carried him some. And the bag :) Super stud.

The final downhill run of switchbacks. The child sprinted through them. Here, we passed one family, leaving the beach.

The Little Man immediately set to collecting, talking to himself and the objects he found.

E planted our stuff behind a rock, ran in the water, and then pointed out his plan. He thought he spied some tidal pools (P's favorite) just beyond the only other family on the entire beach. The hike was worth it;)

A lovely waterfall fed a small stream that ran into the ocean. Tiny fish skirted around our ankles. P was so alive it was adorable.

The tidal pool promising rocks in the distance, with lighthouse!

Bingo!

Then we rounded bend after bend, fortunate for the low tides, and found a series of caves. That connected to one another! E mentioned the Count of Monte Cristo :)

Examining cave walls.

Checking out starfish and crabs

Playing with the tide and Papa

And finally, it was evening. Fortunately, the one other family had mentioned a, erm, shortcut. The hike back would have been pretty arduous, and definitely cut into our beach time, so we were excited to see about this trail that supposedly led straight up to the parking lot. Well, come to find out, it wasn't really a trail. This family had basically bushwacked through a protected area to make it down to the beach that morning :) But it was really too late for us to attempt the other hike and chance getting caught in the dark woods, not to mention that once we'd made it up the super steep, sandy embankment and realized the folly, I had no idea how I'd backtrack back down! I believe Ethan's exact words, as he hovered behind me as we climbed almost straight up were, "If your mother could see you right now, she'd tar and feather me."

All I could think was how happy I was that the child was so sprightly and I could comfortably let him climb ahead of us. And the view was unbelievable. Not to mention how great it felt to feel capable again for the day. But I didn't stop to take any pictorial evidence, knowing my mother is coming for a visit ;)

P takes it all in before we start our return climb.

We picnicked again, watched some elk walk around and then took off into the sunset, supremely happy. And listening to, of course, "Train to Barcelona"... The child, he's nothing if not consistently obsessive ;)

Holiday Heaven

2011-07-05T00:55:00.000-07:00

(Mom, Dad, if you click on the four little arrows at the bottom right of the video - it makes it bigger. And Podi, that's a little Ellis for ya;)

Oh my. The child had sooo much fun today :) First, after watching the little neighbor girl do fireworks in her driveway at bedtime last night, the child woke up TWO HOURS early, excited to purchase such amazing possibilities. (Yah, he'd seen the big ones in Brooklyn, but had no idea private sized beauties could be had...)

Off to the shop across the street before breakfast... only to find out that those were glorified confetti makers. He came home with a slew of them anyway. Me, remembering the confetti mess of 2009 (after the Chinese New Year's confetti maker bombed our bathroom....) I was hesitant :) But who am I kidding? We cleared some space and set to mess making. The child was adorably jumpy. Each time E pulled a string, the blast made the kid shiver from head to toe. It was so innocently precious. Eventually, he shot some off himself and then could settle down to eat :)

Then the boys left for Mount Hood's Skibowl Park. I really, really needed to clean and was excited to get things in order (to simplify the parenting/homeschooling/homemaking/unpacking/nesting dance this week), but... felt massively disappointed I stayed home as soon as I heard the car doors slam shut. I really like hanging with my boys :)

Photo fun courtesy of Ethan. Thanks for taking some pics E!

But they had a blast. Canoe rides, pony rides, go carts, alpine slides, ball pits, you name it, they did it. But the fave of the day, was the bungee swing. The child was glowing when he trudged through the door tonight...

Bearing a bag of real fireworks. Bought at a real roadside stand. (It kills me when I miss firsts! My only saving grace is how excited he is to tell me all about it:) Once again, eating, of course, took the back seat and he pulled a starving Papa outside...

After a late dinner, E went to bed and I was on firework duty. The sky (finally - it was nearing 10!) grew darkish and there were explosions ALL around us. The kid mentioned it was a little nerve wracking, having booms every which way:) (Apparently, there was a fear concerning them falling on his head!) And he wasn't totally interested yet in lighting the short wicked wonders himself, instructing me, instead, to be very careful, light it, now RUN Mama!!!!

Honestly, I'm so not into fireworks :) I mean, the lights are beautiful and all, but the booms are a bit much. And then there's the waste and the resources and the pollution... and I can't help worrying about the birds and the other critters... But there was no way I was going to let my personal baggage weigh the kid down, so I took a deep breath (of the smoke filled air;) and watched his wonder. Now that is something I can get behind ;)

And as he watched a little colorful sparkler sputter and spray, he murmured, "Its rather enchanting, isn't it?" He stood there, transfixed, for another minute, and then just had to jump up and down a little bit from all of the happiness. I freakin' love kids.

After a few more runs I suggested we check out the light show seemingly a few houses down (big booms and lots of high illegals;) We walked around the corner and found a few families lighting big ones in the street, so we copped a squat and cuddled in the cool air to watch. His commentary was so sweet and his appreciation so high that I loved it too.

Exhausted once that show was over, we walked back to our house for bed... only to find a slightly older crowd with slightly larger, louder explosions directly across from our house. We sat on our stoop for a bit, then moved upstairs to the bedroom window to watch. Poor, poor Ethan. Obviously, the street party was making his night time slumbers challenging. Even for a super Schultz sleeper, it was LOUD.

Eventually I was able to coax the child into bed, where he almost immediately passed out. Despite the ongoing party. That keeps waking E at odd intervals, only to make him sleepily curse and turn over. Then I giggle :) And the child, he doesn't even stir. It was a Big (beautiful) Day.

luuuuuv

2011-07-03T00:03:00.000-07:00

I really love my boys. I can spend every moment with them from breakfast to bedtime and... still be really excited to see them the next morning ;) And, come to find out, I think we're all head over heels in love with Oregon, too. Especially the beach we happened upon today.... It feels kinda sick for life to give you such nice days, what, with all the troubles out there and all :)

Snow in June

2011-06-29T00:07:00.000-07:00

Granted, its much, much cooler here than Kansas or New York in June, but not that cold ;) We drove all the way up the mountain this last weekend, as P keeps catching glimpses of the snow topped peak and requesting snowball scrimmages ;)

I didn't hold out toooo much hope for finding big drifts, but figured we could muster up a snowball or two... Oh how wrong I was :) We were pretty impressed when we rounded the bend and the mountain top sat there, right in front of us. We parked against a snowdrift and the child, literally, jumped out of the car, scrambling into the 15 foot white wall. Happy happy joy joy :)

We noticed a trail going towards the peak and headed that way. It was lovely, if not a wee bit treacherous.

P, making snowballs and watching them roll down the steep hill, gathering mass as they went.

Once we reached more solid ground, snowball fighting ensued. (The snow was a clean, bright white - I wish I'd had more than my phone with me, since it gives the snow a dirty look in these shots - but the sun was too bright for me to see how things were turning out, so I was just pointing and shooting blind;)

The boys worked up a sweat in the sun (it was rather warm to begin with, despite the white fluffy stuff) and P was tickled to hike back with just a t-shirt. Here, he stops to collect some interesting pinecones...

The closest thing I've got to the much requested belly shot ;)

On the drive back down, we stopped at an alpine slide. That happened to be home to a downhill biking race (just ended) that afternoon. We picnicked and watched the bigger boys bounce around on their fancy bikes while the child asked lots of questions about ski lifts and alpine slides. He really wanted to go, but he just wasn't sure how he felt about going without me. I knew there would be too much belly bumping with him riding between my legs, so Papa was the best solution. Curiosity and excitement got the better of him and he solemnly held my had all the way to the lift, then took his father's and up up up they went.

As soon as they hit the bottom, the child started planning his next run ;)

We headed home a bit high with the happiness of it all. Such a fabulous afternoon outing, and we actually live here? Its been a nice relief to not be constantly pining for NYC, like the last time we tried moving away :)

Sand, strawberries and sun

2011-06-27T23:18:00.000-07:00

P seems to really love the beach access here. I mean, he always talked about going to Coney Island back in Brooklyn (and we did go quite a bit), but when push came to shove, he often didn't "feel like it." I'm not sure what it is here that is making the difference, but he pretty much always feels like it these days. And after a loooong first trimester of hibernating and a looong, cold Spring, all of this activity is a welcome reprieve! I just need to do better with remembering to sit down during the day to keep all of this swelling down. I think I'm a little nervous that learning a new city with a new baby will be overwhelming to me, so I'm trying to get it all figured out in the next two months :)

Sauvie Island is definitely something I want to be able to do, sleep deprived or whatnot. Its close and lovely and a real afternoon getaway. P and I hit the organic strawberry U-pick for an afternoon of harvesting last week en route to the beach.

Walking the fields

Down to business

The kid picked a couple pounds of berries. By the time they made it home that night, I figured they'd probably had a little more rough treatment than most store bought berries ;), so we washed and worked them into a bunch of jam. Yu-u-um.

But before heading home, we headed around the corner to the beach. It was the official first day of summer and people were definitely out to celebrate. We're used to empty Oregon beaches and I was startled to see someone else :) But it was still a pretty calm scene compared to Coney Island, and the little New Yorker didn't bat an eye.

The water felt amazing

Silly Mama forgot the sand toys, so the kid busied himself with a plastic sack. He was really tickled that he could cart water with it.

Then things turned serious and he started his sand collecting. He had big plans on biggering his crab abode with more sand...

Where we parked, the beach was over a tall embankment... with no stairs down one side. After climbing up and then sliding down (yah, a lot of people got a good show - look at the idiot pregnant lady sliding down the concrete embankment...) to cart sand to the car a couple times, I told him I was all out. Last trip. He decided he better make it a good one. Hohohohoh! That plastic bag was so full I thought it would burst! But the kid carried it up the hill, down the stairs and to the car... Determined :) He just needed a couple breaks....

He was quite pleased with himself. In fact, he figures we should go back and get some more :)

Post trip bliss

2011-06-27T22:43:00.000-07:00

P has been infinitely pleased with his ever growing beach collection. It has filled many, many hours. Then, crab world got a sand boost from another outing we made recently... in fact, there ended up being more sand than the crabs needed, so the child fashioned an indoor sand pit. Sand play is so self-soothing to P, I don't even mind the extra vacuuming. He is in both bins multiple times a day - pretty much whenever he isn't working in the yard or playing with the neighbor boys that are finally out of school!

Father's Day: Ruby Beach

2011-06-25T23:44:00.000-07:00

E loves haystacks, so I chose Ruby beach for Father's Day. It was a quick and easy drive from the rainforest shrouded lake and our morning moss hike. We picnicked in the car and arrived excited. The weather was lovely, warming while we were there, and the tide cooperated with our crossing... mostly ;)

The child ran his way down the trail.

A sizable river ran into the ocean.

P clambered out into the river/pond... only to realize that jumping back (from big to little rather than little to big) wasn't favorable;)

So he worked a solution (the logs wouldn't hold E or I without rolling.)

There was climbing...

And then, a crossing. The river that ran into the ocean separated us from the sandy beach, which P prefers over the rocky one... Fortunately, a timber mini-damn provided me with a rickety crossing... only to fall apart as E stepped onto it! So, following life's flow, P decided to aid its dismantling...

The tide: a boy's best playmate.

Lots to climb!

E and P played games with the tide for forever. Oh happy days:)

And raced...

Warm and digging.

When it was time to go, we all realized we needed to get back across the river. The boys had long ago lost their shoes, but I was so very uninterested in bending over to unlace my hiking boots only to replace them on the rocky shore moments later :) So I walked along the river, looking for something shallow enough to just walk across, or even another log damn... In comes heroic hubby and swept me off my feet and carried me across. The child, always watching, despite seeming to be very, very busy filling his shirt with sand, finished his collecting and wandered over mid-river and gave Ethan the most dashing smile he could afford.

Of course, E carried him across too :)

Rock skipping with a hundred pound collecting bag, while walking barefoot on the rocks. Now that's dedication :)

Father's Day: Quinault Lake

2011-06-24T23:32:00.000-07:00

The drive up was lovely. I was nervous about our roadside inn (hoping it wasn't a real hole... We're not averse to holes, at all, really, but since it was a special occasion surprise, I was definitely dreaming of cleanish carpet in a non-stinky room...) It was delightful. Right by the lake! We dropped our bag and headed for food and an evening hike.

We ate here:

There was a little village, buried in the rainforest, with a dinner spot overlooking a vast lawn of green, surrounded by low mountains and cloud cover. It was, honestly, breathtaking. The child ordered and ran out to explore while we waited for food. (This new independence thing is crazy! He asked me to come (of course;) and it both broke my heart and made it swell when he took my rejection so easily. This pregnancy has really changed our dynamic and my mama's heart is having a hard time with the adjustment. He seems to appreciate that I'm also having a hard time (physically) with this pregnancy lately, and accepts the lack of instant "yes!" that he was so accustomed to. I'm finding this stoicism so touching that it sucks on me. I'm also finding his newfound reliance on Ethan glorious (its fabulous for their relationship) and difficult. I hate "lacking." I can't stand saying "I can't, ask your father." I despise asking someone else to do something for me. Sigh. Physical ineptitude is not coming gracefully to the adult here. The child, meanwhile, appears to be weathering things pretty well :)

I clambered down after dinner to watch him joyously throw rocks.

We took a lovely little hike/walk after dinner. It was growing dark, and the child was disappointed we had to turn around so soon, but we figured it would be very dark in there at night and the old trees, bent with age and moss, were seriously creepy in the twilight. Plus, between P's collecting and questioning and appreciating and my pelvic inabilities (my first pregnancy was so easy! what the heck?!?!), we were moving at the same pace as most of the forest floor slugs...

The next morning, P climbed up beside me and whispered his hot little breath in my face. "We have to make Papa breakfast in bed." Breakfast is a big affair at our house. Even bigger now that E joins us each morning. There are eggs in some style, sausage or turkey bacon, smoothies, different teas, fresh fruit and homemade pancakes or waffles or french toast (or oatmeal or biscuits or...;) - every day. We like to eat and breakfast foods rock :) When I pulled out some cold, cooked bacon and a bit of fruit from our picnic cooler and popped it on our little lunch plate, I expected the child to scoff. He beamed. He crept to his father's still sleeping side, attempting to balance the bobbling orange, and proudly produced the one thing he thought most necessary to a Father's Day. Now, E is slow to wake up and doesn't like to eat straight away. Especially mushed strawberries and cold bacon. But no, he yanked himself awake and dutifully ate his gifts with thanks. Proving his fabulous father status right then and there :)

The man then chose the, ahem, might I say, lamest hike in the park? Typically, we like hard hikes with lots of interest. Sweet husband has been looking forward to visiting this area for 15 years... and he chose a flat path through a mossy glen. "I love moss!" he promised. "And you can't really hike," he added sweetly. Aargh. Fortunately, it really was lovely and the child was enthralled, collecting cyanide millipedes for his growing bug habitat.

Honestly, though, what is it about throwing stuff in water?!?!

Super Papa

Millipede collectin'

The water was crystal clear and filled with water plants. We'd never seen anything like it before.

Next stop: Ruby Beach...

The Garden

2011-06-22T23:22:00.000-07:00

The garden has grown up so amazingly, P and I are shocked. The grape vines have formed a curtain around the perennial bed, the rosemary is almost a tree, the catmint a monstrous mound. But right in the surrounded center is a mulch spot... one a six year old said looked perfect for a "hideout, or a clubhouse, Mama!!" So he grabbed his little chair, dodged the busy bees and sat contentedly viewing his new realm.

We are in love with having a yard.

Father's Day

2011-06-21T23:24:00.000-07:00

E and I are both pretty lucky. Our dads are great, supportive men. I figure P is extraordinarily lucky. In addition to two fantastic grandfathers, he has the most amazing father a boy could wish for. And, as of this year, he was ready to celebrate it. He was pretty bummed our move nixed Mother's Day (he, apparently, had big plans for me;) But he did write me (er, dictated to E) the Absolute Sweetest, Most Awesomest letter a mother could ever wish for, evah. When I come across that box... I'll put it on the blog cuz its just that damn sweet ;)

Soooo, Father's Day was all big excitement for him. After reading a book earlier this year about breakfast in bed, he was bound and determined that we would provide this service for E ;) He started chatting it up weeks ago.

Meanwhile, I was bound and determined to actually do something for E, for a change. We typically skip fanfare and holidays with each other. But the man has been hankering for trips every father's day for years... and it was always just too hard in NYC. This year would be different ;)

So P and I planned a little weekend trip to the Olympic National Forest. I knew this was something E would like because we had planned a hiking trip to this park over a decade ago. A trip that was sidelined by an emergency hospital visit and a limping husband with a huge hole in his leg...

So we vacuumed the car (collector+car to carry collections=HUGE mess), bought E a raincoat (it is a rainforest and all;), packed our picnic cooler and headed north. After a lovely week of sun, it was cloudy and a little rainy, but with plans of clearing...

We took the long, scenic drive on the way there, wanting to relish our new neck of the woods. The scenery was stunning, and the child sat, happily, in his booster seat for multi-hour tour (once again, I was shocked. He chatted, sang songs, pointed out sights, colored a bit, moo-ed at the cows, snacked a bit, asked a zillion questions... but never seemed to get bored.) Nevertheless, wanting this to be non-miserable for a small person, we went a little further out of our way to stop at a beach en route. It wasn't a planned place of beauty, just a sandy spot we could get to, but the child was So Happy to get out and run and collect; it was adorable.

The little hike to the beach was gloriously beautiful, bracketed by bushes of bright yellow blooms. The beach addict was super stoked. I mean, it had been a whole week since he was at a beach ;)

The whole weekend had that "just falls together" feeling. As we reached the beach, the clouds cleared and the weather stayed lovely the rest of our trip.

Unusually good crab collecting:)

The boys raced.

P found a whole crab, picked clean (read:non-smelly and allowed in car;) A major score for a crab collector :)

We did actually make it to the park this time - and it was perfect. More another night... :)

Ewwwwwwwwwww

2011-06-16T23:54:00.000-07:00

For future reference: these smell like flowers.

I really like our new library. Fortunately, P hasn't mentioned missing his dearly loved librarian from Mulberry Street (yet) and seems satisfied, too. This branch is small, only three short blocks away (and one of those is a lovely little tree covered pedestrian short-cut) and, of course, very friendly. P likes to collect on the way there. And on the way home :)

Speaking of collecting... As we moved something into the house the other day, E and I were struck by a ~~horrible~~ ungodly stench on the front porch. Like, something rotting. We eyed one of P's collecting bins that had been slightly neglected... containing crab and sand dollar stuffs. I would have bent over and sniffed to verify our parental shame, but bending over is ridiculously hard these days (and I've only just started my third trimester?!?! What??? I appear to be gestating a future female linebacker. All of us had a really hard laugh tonight at the (impossible) thought of this baby still having another three months of growing to do....). And why go through the discomfort when the culprit seemed soooo very obvious?

So I mentioned to P that this particular collection needed some, er, attention. He vehemently denied the possibility. We finished moving the large, heavy object (I was moral support) when P proudly announced he had found the origin of the ~~smell~~ stench. A flower, just blooming, beside the house. Nahhhh, we both chuckled, its the crab carcasses. No, really, he tells me, its this flower! Come smell it!

Now, the child has been in a "trickster" mood of late. Nothing pleases him more than jumping out at us and getting a good screech or telling us the milk is all gone and then pulling out half a bottle. I assumed we were in tricky mode and walked to the gargantuan blossom (about a foot long) and took in a great, big whiff.

Oh. My. Gawd.

It reeked. Like, seriously, sticking your nose deep down inside a rotting, dead deer kind of reeked. As I forcefully exhaled through my nose, trying to dislodge every small particle I had just inhaled, E, the safely schnozzed pussy, peeked doubtfully around the side of the house. P laughed his ass off.

If anyone knows what this thing is, please tell us. The scent has faded away by today, but there's another one about to unfurl....

Next week's stench on a strangely spotted stick...

Such a rough life...

2011-06-16T00:36:00.000-07:00

P, having carried out half the house, lazed about "reading" his new piece of fabulousness, "The Dangerous Book for Boys." So far, its lit a fire for origami...

Ethan asked me yesterday if I felt isolated here. I mean, we know 1 family (a little:) and we aren't living on top of (and beside) people anymore. And I had worried a few months back that walking less would mean more isolation. But life here feels so full and sweet right now. We do still walk a ton, and the friendly factor means that we're not just surrounded by people, but actually interacting with them, too (or, at least, the social kid is;) And then, of course, we see E during the day for meals, which is such a treat its crazy. And we no longer have him for a mere tired hour in the evening, but a good couple of hours (since he gets up before dawn to work East Coast hours and no longer commutes, we see him by.... FIVE o'clock everyday!!!! That's over TWO extra hours of our favorite guy, everyday!!!!)

But I realized as we talked that, for me, its the access to outside that changes everything (ok, outdoor access and access to Ethan:). The hassle of getting from the fourth floor to green space is minimized (to a crazy degree...) with a private yard. Case in point, P's private picnic party the other day. In his p.j.'s. Not having to actually be presentable before we head out is a huge bonus ;) And the fact that I can pop back in to start laundry or lunch (or pee for the millionth time) without neighbors freaking out that a kid is on the stoop by himself during school hours is such a perk I get giddy just walking through the back door.

I know we're, technically, isolated in the backyard... but, for me, nature is typically enough. Grass and trees and dirt and I feel connected and complete. I'm sure having someone constantly kicking me from the inside out and someone else chatting at me on the outside completes my needs for interaction too ;) But since I'm feeling so satisfied, I'm going to have to make sure that my newly minted socialite is still getting fulfilled, in a non-backyard, isolated, social sorta way ;) Constant companions of Pink Monster and Mama or no:)