We're Moving.

I have lived in the city of Chicago for 12 years. It's where I became an independent adult. It's where I relocated after leaving the home I'd lived in for 18 years, which was situated in a small, white, suburban town. It's where I first used my (ahem) fake I.D. It's where I rented my first apartment. It's where I opened my first checking account. It's the home of the first public transportation system I learned to navigate. It's the home of the first--and best--jazz club I've ever frequented. It's where I learned the pedagogy required to teach music. It's where I fell in love for the first time. It's where I learned to cook, to interpret music, to stop procrastinating. It's where I owned my first home, and nursed my first baby.

Oh, Chicago, how I will miss you. I will miss your free zoo and your aquarium. I will miss your little parks in the middle of a busy city block. I will miss Lincoln Park, my original stomping ground. I will miss Andersonville (my second stomping ground), which I witnessed pull itself up by its bootstraps to become a trendy, yet charming, little neighborhood. I will miss living 20 minutes from the airport, and a swift 4.5 hours from my mom. I will miss being able to zip downtown for a show. I will miss watching the Thai delivery guy drive on the sidewalk to our door. I will miss the crazy, toothless Polish lady down the street who always steps outside to say hello to the Munchkin. I will miss my new neighborhood friends. It will be a big inconvenience to find a new veterinarian, and a new pediatrician, and a new dentist. It will break my heart to have to find a different music teacher for our little mommy-and-me class.

Dear Chicago, I will miss you so. You can keep your parking tickets, your city stickers and your "boots," but I'll be sure to visit often so I don't forget about the rest. Thanks for 12 inspiring years.

(For the record, my NEW town is where I met my husband. Trump card.)

WE'RE MOVING!!!

We will have three playgrounds within a 10 minute walk from our new home. We will have a yard, a porch, and a deck. We will have a basement and a storage room. We will have a kitchen with a garbage disposal. We will have a guest room. We will have many, many closets. It will not take 15 minutes to drive 0.5 miles to the grocery store. We will be able to walk to the elementary school, and not have to worry about whether or not it's a "good" school. We will be two minutes from rehearsals for our theatre group. We will have Target, Kohl's, Costco, and various other "frequent flier" stores much closer to home. Oh, and we will actually be able to SHOP at Costco, because we'll have somewhere to STORE what we purchase. We will be minutes from some beautiful Outdoor Entertainment Facilities (trying to keep our new location somewhat secure ;o) ) and a charming downtown area with shops and restaurants. And you don't have to take public transportation or pay for parking to get there.

Here that? It's the sound of me breathing a sigh of relief.

Holiday Report Card: The Flight

As many of you pointed out, the flight WOULD end eventually. And it did. :o)

On our way out of town on December 22, The Munch and I flew by ourselves. We thought we'd be able to have assistance from my mom through security and to our gate, but the lovely folks at the Northwest ticket counter decided to surprise us at the last minute and DENY our request. "Added security measures," they said. (Ironic, I know, given recent events.)

So the boy howled his way through security (shoes off, by the way) and through our rushed 5.5 minute breakfast, after which I struggled to get the #@$% car seat into its cover and schlepped onto the plane. Through nothing short of a Christmas miracle, some guy in the very last row (which just so happened to NOT be in the same location as the restrooms) asked us to switch our aisle seat for his so he could sit with his family, and we ended up with an empty seat next to us. THANK GOODNESS. I honestly could not have imagined juggling a very antsy little boy and all. his. stuff. without a little extra elbow room--especially since we sat an additional 45 minutes on the tarmac prior to takeoff.

Equipment included in diaper bag (besides the obvious): New board books, favorite board books, toddler crayon thingies, coloring book, iPhone loaded with episodes of "Sesame Street," four nesting cups, kid-friendly cell phone, snacks. The Munch's favorites? None of the above. Except for the snacks. I'm pretty sure he ate for a total of 1.5 hours.

BUT. We survived and arrived unharmed. And our shorter-by-two-hours return flight had a dad, ANOTHER EMPTY SEAT (crazy, I know), more snacks, and a Benadryl-induced nap to help it along.

Thanks for all your advice! More holiday report cards to come...when I can get the stories and photos together.



Oh! and P.S.: The Go-Go Kidz Travelmate was a huge help. I highly recommend it if you have a real stroller waiting at your destination.

There Are (Almost) No Words

I was supposed to be heading to bed over an hour ago. I was headed there thinking about how lousy my day had been. About how difficult today was without my husband here to help me. About what a chore it is to pack for vacation (and well aware of the irony). About how much "pain" I was in, having ripped a nail well below the quick. About how my bad mommy moments almost got the best of me today.

Then, as I was catching up on some blog-reading, I read an article written about Stephanie "Nie Nie" Nielson. I have read Stephanie's blog sporadically, as directed by Kage, but only began following her days before her nearly fatal plane crash in August 2008.

Thirty minutes of tear-shedding and reading later, attitude adjusted, I am heading to bed. But not before sharing this impossibly brave woman's story. Save it for when you have time to read all ten chapters.

Tomorrow I will start the day uplifted: Reminded that I am blessed to be a mother, with a providing and loving husband, with a supportive network of family and friends, with a stunning son, with my body whole and intact...alive to bask in the glow of the day.


The Article: http://www.azcentral.com/news/articles/stephanie-nielson-intro-120609.html

Nie's Blog: http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/

"Fun Holiday Game!" Answers

ZERO responses. Whatever, people. Surely someone is wondering though, so here you are:

Crack crack = Cracker
Bup = Cup
Gyer guck = Fire Truck
Uck = Yuck
Bomb = Balloon
Ish = Fish
Ah-ee = Ollie (the dog)
Ahtch = Ouch
Dee dee = Kitty

Making the Best of a Lousy Situation

Cricket Fest

Nope, not the kind you play with a bat. The kind that appear when one's blog is neglected. Sorry, Internets!

A brief synopsis for those of you NOT friends with me on Facebook:

1. I am music directing and appearing in "Snoopy!!! The Musical" with the href="http://highlandparkplayers.com/">Highland Park Players. Rehearsals start Tuesday. I'm playing Lucy Van Pelt. Awesome.

2. Brad left for Australia yesterday. He will be gone until the 20th. In the meantime, the Munch and I are on our own (with Oliver's "help") until we head to Mimi/Papa's on the 17th. And then...dum dum dum...I'm flying ALONE with my 15 MONTH SON to PHOENIX. Did I mention the flight is 4 hours? Did I mention that he doesn't have his own seat (what was I thinking?!)? More on that in a minute.

3. The tree is up and decorated. So are the boxes.

4. Ah, yes, the boxes. We are waiting, horror of horrors, on the IRS--of all departments. Well, WE aren't waiting, our buyers are. Meanwhile, we have still managed to hold onto the contract for the new house...for now.

5. The Munchkin's 15 month checkup was awesome. He's high on the charts, his walking looks good, his language skills are waaaay above the norm.

6. And a fun little story:
The Munch has a book with text that reads, "Oh no! Lost your mittens...etc." Well, each time we read it, I exclaim the "Oh no" part in a very Julia Child-esque voice. He thinks it's hysterical, so--naturally--I repeat it a hundred times and he laughs with his wonderful full belly chuckle that I love. Last night we were in the car headed back from the airport when I hear, "Oh doh!" from the backseat--about a hundred times. Only 5 minutes from home did I realize he was imitating my Julia Child impression. Ha!

Back to #2 for a second:
If you have any no-fail, must-have toys or activities to suggest for our flight, please do so. Already on the list are my iPhone (equipped with "Sesame Street"), stacking cups, a couple of new board books, baby cell phone, snacks.

15 Months

Height: 31.5 (75%ile
Weight: 25 lbs, 12 oz (60%ile)
HC: 19" (75%ile)

Dear Munchkin,

It's been three months since my last letter to you. I'm not gonna lie--it hasn't been an easy three months, though in addition to the struggles of toddlerhood, my life has been tinged with stress and sadness completely unrelated to you. But the toddlerhood part is no picnic. I see your giant personality emerging, and though it's fantastically awesome, I start to wonder just how much influence your old mom will be able to have in shaping it. Surely the stubbornness, temper tantrums, lashing-out-by-throwing/hitting-things/people is a product of "nature," not "nurture," right?

But, oh, when the nasty temper and tantrums subside...how wonderful it is to watch you learn. Listening to you expand your vocabulary is inspiring. Watching you watch me and try to do as I'm doing (wrinkle my nose like a bunny, pucker my lips like a fish) is marvelous and hilarious.


Here are some highlights of the last three months:

- Your first class at Gymboree. You made it pretty clear that the "organized activities" were a waste of your time (minus the bubbles and parachute parts), but boy did you LOVE the Gym itself. My brave little boy explored every inch of The Padded Room, including the trampoline.

- Learning to walk!!!

- Adding to your Word List: book, again, out, down, in, cup, kitty, brush, yeah. (Which you pronounce as "hhhyyyeah," because you're doing it in the whiny sheep voice you use after we ask, "Did you get hurt?")

- Displaying a touch of Mama's OCD with your toys: Legos in the red wagon, puzzle blocks in the green wagon, cars in the dump truck, balls in the toy box, etc. (Atta boy.)

- Favoring your right hand--for throwing things.

- Stacking puzzle blocks 10 high without knocking them over.

- Figuring out how to use the shape-sorter.

- Riding in the Car Cart at the grocery store for the first time. So exciting!

- Taking a walk (where YOU actually WALKED) to the mailbox.

- Pointing out the fish ornament on the Christmas tree.

- Trying to fill your cup with the water on the front of the fridge.

- Getting on and off your ride-on toys without help.

- Walking your train toy all over the upstairs.

- Scaring yourself when you made a sound on the kazoo.

- Singing the "Bye Bye Toys" song with me, and using the correct interval for the "bye bye" part (minor 3rd, or sol-mi, for the music geeks out there). And doing it again in a higher key! (Squee!)

- Playing with Oliver and his "babies."

- Trying to hug all the boys at music class.

- Charming the pants off all the ladies at the grocery store time after time after time.

- Being such a big boy while getting your hair cut. (TWICE in the last three months, people. The kid's hair grows like weeds. Though I shouldn't be surprised. I did, after all, have to trim his mullet when he was 5 days old.)

- Chasing the cats at Grandma's house, and trying so hard to hug Melanie (the 17 year old cat) by putting your head down on her body.


Love,
Mom

Soup's On!

In honor of Kris' memorial service tomorrow, tonight's dinner was "Greek Something or Other Soup," which turned out to be one food she would actually EAT. :o) It was passed along to me by my mom, and to her by my Aunt Barbara. It makes a lovely red and green colored soup, perfect for Christmas. Enjoy! (Ooh, and don't skip the feta. It's my favorite part.)


In large pot, saute lightly in olive oil:
2 stalks celery, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped

Add:
4-6 cu. chicken or vegetable stock
1/2 cu. arborio rice
6 cu. baby leaf spinach
1 can Great Northern Beans, rinsed and drained
1 can diced tomatoes, drained
1 zucchini, chopped
1 yellow squash, chopped
Fresh thyme to taste

Heat soup on medium heat for 20-30 minutes to cook rice and veggies.
Serve with crumbled feta on top.

Fun Holiday Game!

It's called, "Guess the Word or Phrase Based on the Toddler's Pronunciation!"

Crack crack =
Bup =
Gyer guck =
Uck =
Bomb =
Ish =
Ah-ee =
Ahtch =
Dee dee =

Have fun playing! (Some of you will have more advantages than others. Let's make sure we play nicely.)

For the Baby Book: Toddling Toddler

As of this morning, we officially have a Toddling Toddler!

First steps (prompted): October
First steps (unprompted): Thanksgiving Day (Nov. 26)
First real walking sequence: Today! (Nov. 29)

(I get bonus points for posting video on The Internets of me in my non-matching PJs and glasses.)

This is Just Ridiculous

Here is a short list of Today's Things That are Ridiculous:

1. Trying to write a new post that is in any way appropriate to follow my last post.

2. The size of the piece of Portillo's chocolate cake I consumed last night--after driving 15 minutes out of my way to get it in the first place. (Stress eating much?)

3. The amount of time it's going to take me to record performance tracks for the show I'm music directing. Especially when you divide that time by the amount of extra money I'm getting to do it...Then again, time is suddenly not in short supply. You'll find out why in a minute.

4. The fact that I haven't really told you what's going on with the Other Stuff. Here goes. First of all, I'm not sure how thrilled my husband will be that I'm sharing this with The Internets, but since at least 50% of my blog readers already know, it seems silly not to write about it. And with all the build up, it won't seem like a big deal anymore, anyway.

We got a contract on our city town house a few months (yes MONTHS) ago. Remember? We've been trying to sell for two years? Riiiight. Well, the process has been tediously, painfully, and--naturally--ridiculously slow, as our buyers have some complications. We found a house in a suburban town that we love, but we have no plans to close on that house before officially unloading the town house. We've been on pins and needles for two weeks (or three months, depending on your perspective), thinking we were moving on Saturday. But we're not, as it turns out. So the 80% of the house that is packed and ready to go will remain mostly packed and ready to go for at least another two weeks. But I'm not getting my hopes up that two weeks is feasible.

But at least now it's out in the open and we can all commiserate together, right?

The Strongest Woman Who Ever Lived

Kristin Marie Spangler
June 29, 1970-November 12, 2009

It breaks my heart to write this post. My dear friend, Kris, is no longer fighting the battle against breast cancer. Yesterday in the hospital, surrounded by her team of friends/round-the-clock caregivers and her parents, she passed away. She was a fighter to the very end, unwilling to admit death was imminent, always looking for the "next" treatment option. She was an actor, singer, director, Euchre champ, theatre goer, Alexander Technique therapist and teacher, acting teacher, Net Flix watcher, plant cultivator, ruthless board game competitor, sister, daughter...and friend.

I will miss you, KSpang. You are the strongest woman who ever lived.

Love Scarf: 1st Installment

Here it is. In retrospect, I should have used solid colored yarn instead of the variegated, because the pattern is really lovely but tough to see. A nice ribbed look without the elasticity. (I always have trouble deciding on a solid colored yarn.)

In any case, it will keep someone warm and snuggly.



Oh, and, um, this might be the "1st"...of one. But I'll see how many more I can crank out.

For Grandpa Bob: More Buttons!

Insert big smile HERE.

Halloween 2009: The Final Installment

In a whirlwind weekend filled with visits from Uncle Scott and Great Aunt Sara, we did manage to get a few more pics of our little lion. I think he enjoyed his brief Trick or Treating experience, but seemed to be puzzling over why we were staying out in the cold, rather than going inside the nice, warm homes.





Bonus photo. Here's how the Pumpkin ultimately turned out:

...Oh My!

Happy Halloween!

We did our big family dress-up last week at the Gelber's Halloween party. We're juggling a lot this weekend, so we won't be in full costume to accompany our little lion when we he goes trick-or-treating. (Also, um, I lost my ears. Not sure how.) Not that we won't be taking more photos! Oh, no! That would defeat the purpose of Halloween!

But here are a few more of us Lions, Tigers, and Bears.



Brad and I have tails, too, but they were camera shy.

STALKER!

Seriously, if you have a blog and you don't use Google Analytics, drop everything and...um...Google it.

Here's the cool stuff I learned today: I can actually tell which states AND WHICH CITIES in those states have read this blog. And for how long. And how many posts. So if I want to see which of my long distance friends across the globe are LYING about having read (I'm looking at you, Colorado!), I can. Cool, huh?

Illinois is in first place (Chicago, Glenview and Glen Ellyn are top readers); followed by Michigan (Livonia and "Washtenaw County") and Arizona (mostly Scottsdale, though a surprising number in Tempe, too). And Florida is only beating out Georgia by one visit!

I only mention this because those of you who live in those places might find it interesting. Or not. I don't really care, because I think it's the coolest thing I've learned all month. Which basically means that I need to go back to school.

But hey, what I really want to know is, who is reading in Wisconsin, Texas, and New Hampshire? Because I can't think of who it would be, and I'm kind of a sucker for anonymous readers--that is, people who read that aren't related to me by blood or friendship.

SQUEE! Our readership is growing! (I'm such a Nerd. Ooh! Foreshadowing....[rubs hands together with anticipation of new post])

Pumpkin with Purpose, Part II

Aren't these pretty? Aren't I a gifted photographer? Yeah...I stole this pic (and recipe) from Design Mom. But it's okay, because she stole it from someone else.

Of course, I used the leftover pumpkin from last night's carving project. (Ahem...riiiiight.)



Old-Fashioned Soft Pumpkin Cookies
(verybestbaking.com)

2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup butter (1 stick) softened
1 cup 100% pumpkin (you can find cans of this in the pie-filling section of the grocery store)
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
Glaze (see below)
Optional: 1/2 cup chocolate chips or nuts.

Preheat oven to 350. Grease baking sheets.

Combine flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt and set aside. Beat sugar and butter in large bowl until well blended. Beat in pumpkin, egg and vanilla extract until smooth. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto prepared baking sheets.

Bake for 15 to 18 minutes or until edges are firm. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely. Drizzle glaze over cookies.

For Glaze:
Combine 2 cups powdered sugar, 3 tablespoons milk, 1 tablespoon melted butter and 1 tsp vanilla in small bowl until smooth.

Edit: These cookies are more "formed" than, say, a chocolate chip cookie. So, basically, whatever shape it's in when you drop it onto the cookie sheet is the shape it will be when you take it out. I flattened mine a little the second time around so the glaze wouldn't slide off. Also, waiting to see if said glaze will harden. Otherwise I'm not sure how I'll be storing these. But they're yummy!

Word List

Just for my own amusement.

10/30/09:

up
truck
balloon
what's that?
cracker
this
Dada
bye bye
hi
ball
fire truck
choo choo
fish
yuck
Ollie
ouch

Pumpkin with Purpose

Jack O' Lantern 2009:



Alas, this is not the form he will take on Halloween. As we will not be home to hand out the treats this year, he will be displayed on the stoop thusly:



Of course, since I'm not suffering any delusions that Trick or Treaters will actually "Take Just One," as the sign on the door will request, he will be filled with lamer offerings--not the delicious chocolate perfection you see in the photo.


Edit: I should probably give credit where credit is due.

"Do I Have To?" (aka: Teaser)

Actual transcript of today's conversation with my (almost) 14-month old:


"Mommy, do I have to be a lion for Halloween?"

"Yes, dear, you do."

"But why, Mommy?"

"Because I found your costume on sale at Old Navy...and I thought it was cute."

"But it's really hot and the velcro itches my face."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to suck it up, won't you."

"But WHY, Mommy?"

"Because adults really like Halloween, sweetie."

"But WHY, MOMMY?"

"Because it gives them the opportunity to dress their kids up like fools and take lots of pictures."

"Oh. Mommy? Does that mean that every day is Halloween?"

"Be quiet and eat your peas."

*Cricket* *Cricket*

It's quiet around here in blogworld. Or, my blogworld, anyway. Too busy knitting for LoveScarf....

My silly little "Thick and Quick Keyhole Scarf" had a really strange flaw in the pattern. As in, when "finished," it appeared large enough to fit around the neck of a doll. So it's taken on a new life, and therefore, much longer time commitment--which is as it should be, anyway. It is knitted with love, to be sure.

Think about contributing, if you're a knitter.


In the meantime:
k3 sl1 k3 sl1 k3 sl1 k3
k1 sl1 k3 sl1 k3 sl1 k3 sl1 k1
:o)

Meanderings

Edit (10/22/09): This is a very difficult post to publish. It was easy to write, but it's much tougher to share. Just so you know.


Composed on 10/8/09:
A friend and frequent blog-reader commented thusly the other day (paraphrase): "I do read your blog frequently, so I know what's going on with you--or at least with The Munchkin." Huh.

It got me thinking a thought I've thunk before, that I used to write the occasional opinionated entry that was actually about me on this blog, but it's turned into a full-fledged virtual baby book. Not that there's anything wrong with that. In general, I'm pretty sure the bulk of my regulars would rather read about the boy's latest accomplishments, but it still doesn't quell the need to vent and/or rant and/or whine. Unfortunately for me, since this is not an anonymous blog, I rarely do that. I fear offending people, for the most part. My innermost thoughts might not be what you would expect, and I don't want to scare anyone off.

But. Sometimes a girl needs to talk about the fact that her child morphed into another human in the last two months. And most of the time it's wonderful, and glorious, and I can't believe he can do things like imitate the sound a cow makes after talking about it for less than one day. And that he climbs stairs up AND down, and has therefore also figured out that if he's sitting on a chair or couch, all he has to do is turn his little self around and climb down. But other times, I take him to music class and he is a demon in sweat pants. You know how you can't really tell that people have lost weight unless you don't see them for a length of time? Well, that's sorta how I felt about my child's personality when we attended last week's music class, after having not attended for two months. Even his music teacher commented that he was "such a different boy!"...and totally not in a bad or condescending way at all. (I love her, don't forget.) But MAN, has he changed in that class! Now he throws a hissy fit if he can't sit on the giant drum, can't look out the window for the entire class to watch for "Choo choos," has to give back the purple maraca, can't bang on the piano keys, is put down when he wants to be up and is up when he wants to be down. He tries to hit other kids and me, though this was much improved today since last week. And none of this is really a big deal, in the grand scheme of things. It's certainly not a life or death situation.

And. Sometimes a girl needs to talk about the fact that the stupid Other Stuff is still not resolved--and it's real estate related, people, get your minds out of the graveyard and/or my uterus. ;o) But the fact that I still CAN'T TALK ABOUT IT ON HERE IS DRIVING ME NUTS. I want to SHARE things with you, Internet! Again, it's not a huge deal, and most definitely not a life or death situation.

But. Cancer IS a life and death situation, and sometimes a girl needs to talk about how much cancer sucks. And the fact that her friend has it sucks even more. And the fact that this friend is...not doing well...sucks even worse. And the fact that this friend has no husband to take care of her sucks. And that the bulk of her care is falling to her friends--well, that doesn't suck, but it's still really, really hard to handle. It makes me sad, and angry, and unmotivated (the exact opposite effect I would have expected), and my gut instinct is to disconnect from those I'm closest to, because even though it may help to talk about it...I kinda don't want to talk about it. Correction: I don't want to have a conversation about it, which is different.

So if you're reading this and you wonder why I haven't called, or emailed, or blogged about myself, this is why. My Friend Who Has Cancer is the huge, smelly, noisy elephant in the room, distracting me from the rest of my thoughts and tasks. And I don't want to talk about it.

Yet.

Good Eats?

Everyone I know who has/has had a toddler has experienced the "Toddler Food Crisis," but I haven't heard any practical solutions, really. The problem in a nutshell? If he starts rejecting grapes (as he has rejected many other favorite foods (turkey lunchmeat, veggie burgers, cheese, etc.)), he will literally be eating nothing.

I have tried to limit his foods so he's forced to eat what is put before him on his tray, but he just throws it on the floor and remains hungry.

Help.

Doh! Someone Gave Him Playdoh!

Please enjoy The Munchkin's first experience with Playdoh.



Say what you will, but at least he thinks out of the box. Oh, and he has LITERALLY been doing this all day. I've hardly seen him. And evidently, this activity requires too much concentration for talking.

Did You Know...

...that when you freeze leftover soup, there is a major space-saving option?

Instead of putting it in bulky tupperwear, freeze it lying down in a freezer bag. After the first night, you can stand it up in your freezer to make space!




You knew that already? Just checking....

A Good Day

Today was a good day. No, it was a great day. The Munchkin and I just had a really, truly wonderful time together today. One minor meltdown in music that can be overlooked is par for the course, at this juncture.

Once again, I notice that I spend too much time trying to multi-task at the computer/sink/washer while he is on the floor playing with toys. Or I am so daunted at the idea of four hours to fill before bedtime that we run needless errands that frustrate us both. So today, after music, we came home and just played.

What's funny is that we actually played together. Like, he would bring me Legos and we would take turns building them (me) and tearing them down (him). He would give me the hard instruments to play (kazoo, harmonica), while he played the sticks and jingle bells. We looked a dozens of pictures in books today. Ooh! Funny story. So, he opened a book to a page with cartoon balloons on them, and said his usual, "Whsssat?" "Balloons." (Repeat times 20.) Then, after a while, he pointed to the balloons and said, "Baa-mmm." Two distinct syllables. Naturally, I thought, hey! he knows a sort of word for balloon! Well, for the rest of the afternoon, he pointed to everything and said, "Baa-mmm," so I guess we can strike that.

Anyway. We played with trains, and balls, and listened to music, and danced, and made up dialogue for his stuffed animals (me) and threw them around the room (him). At one point, I was laying on the floor in his room and put my head down on my arms. A few moments later, he snuggled right up against me with his head on my back and said, "Ahhh," in that toddler sing-songy voice.

AND...he ate three servings of green vegetables that were not disguised by butter and/or cheese.

It was good day.



(Add to the Things He Can (Sort of) Say list: "All gone.")

"Hey! It's Kathy Lee Gifford!" *

(* If you don't get the joke, too bad for you, and you might as well just skip this whole post.)


Kathy Griffin came to town on her book tour, and I went--with some fabulous friends--to meet her and get a signed copy.

Here she is making her infamous "Suck It" face, by request. And I'm supposed to be making it, too, except I was all nervous and stuff, so now in my one and only photo with Kathy Griffin, I look like I'm sucking a lemon through a straw. At least it's more interesting than the cliche "pose and smile" photo:


Tom:


Holy High Heels, Batman!


Just missed another....er....infamous pose:


I was 15th in line. Which is why you can actually read her signature:


Ooh! So! There was a completely crazy/crazed fan who was first in line. We'll call her "Pink Lady." While we were waiting, she was going on and on (to the Border's staff, who also thought she was nuts) about the fact that they had put the signing table up on a tall stage, so when they took her picture you wouldn't be able to see her (Pink Lady) because she's so short, and maybe Kathy would show up "in a mood" and demand to have the stage removed, or "maybe Tom and Tiffany would be, like, ix-nay on the age-stay." She also announced to the group that this was the "biggest day of her life," and I wondered what her husband would have thought of that, were he there to hear it. (Wedding band. I notice these things.) Anyway, she was worth the price of admission, so to speak.

Oh, and someone brought a box of wine for Kathy's mom. Awesome.

LOL.

Evidently, we can now add another word to our ever-growing list of Words that End with "K."

Oliver has an affinity for tearing apart babies. Um, what I mean is, we buy him stuffed dog toys (at a zillion dollars a pop) and he tears them apart--literally limb from limb. Yesterday he spent a good majority of the morning walking around with a moose leg between his teeth.

Anyway, the fluff from these "babies" ends up strewn ALL OVER THE $%&# HOUSE. Well, The Munch, in his quest to conquer the length of the living room in two seconds flat, gathered a mound of fluff on his jammies in the process. Recalling that my dear, sweet child has a few tactile issues (remember the cotton candy?), you will not be surprised to learn that he was less than impressed with his new accessory. He plucked it gingerly from his jammies, using only his pincer grasp, tossed it delicately on the floor and said, "Yuck." *

Here, here, buddy. Mommy feels your pain. Now where is the $%&# dustbuster?




* (Alright, alright, he actually said, "Uck," but the meaning was definitely "Yuck.")

Words that End with "K"

That's the name of the game, today. The little man gets a little obsessive about certain things, and today's thing is the K sound.

Milk
Truck
Walk
Talk
Duck
Quack
Dack? (Not a word, but it's what he said today instead of his usual, "Dat?")

He opened a book about farms, turned to the page with a photo of the dairy truck, pointed to it and CLEAR AS DAY said, "Truck?" This was after we watched the garbage truck munch a mattress and box springs in its muncher. Way cool. "Truck?"

While we're playing the Tricks My Kid Can Do game, I should also mention that he says, "Choo choo!" every time he sees OR JUST HEARS a train. He can also identify lots of different types of trains (Thomas the Tank, his wooden train, his plastic ride-on train, the Metra train) as trains, which seems impressive to me--transfer of learning, and all that. He will now hold out his arms in anticipation of catching a ball (thank you, Mimi); he is an adept Climber of Stairs; he can tell you what the elephant, monkey, Oliver and train "say;" he can point to his ear, nose and toes. We're planning to send him to college next week.

Week. Add that to the list.

Singer Island, FL

Okay, you crazy kids, I'm trying my darndest to get caught up here, but I'm feeling a little blocked and less creative than normal. Hence the title. Oh, also, I'm trying to multi-task by blogging and watching DVRed episodes of last week's premieres. So, um, apologies if my writing is accidentally interrupted by an order for a head CT and IV push or commentary about how surprisingly well spoken I find Heidi Montag.

(Side note: I LOVE television. (It's a problem.) And I LOVE premiere season because it's got that "back to school" feeling of reunion, after having been away from all your friends for the summer. So, Meredith, Addison, Jeff Probst, Barney, Cat, Jim and Pam...welcome back. Missed ya.)

Ahem.

Our vacation was incredibly wonderful. I hesitate to mention this, given my readership, but Florida isn't my favorite state. Humidity and I (okay, my hair) don't exactly get along. But! When you are a Starwood Preferred Member, you go where you can redeem points. They upgraded us to a ridiculous 2-bedroom suite, complete with granite/stainless kitchen, washer/dryer, two bathrooms with fancy showers and tub, living room and a balcony. Seriously, I could have invited my cousin, her husband, and her three (almost four) kids, and we would have had plenty of room.

We kept our activities to a minimum, but did venture outside The Resort at Singer Island for a day of scootering. Yyyyeah. It's been a long time since I thought, "You know, this is actually really dangerous and I might die." I had that thought more than once that day. In fact, I kept thinking of The Munchkin, and that dangerous activities should really be outlawed for parents. Turned out, though, I was my own biggest hazard. The practice rounds in the parking lot were actually a lot harder than out on the open road. Once my confidence was restored (about 20 minutes after leaving the lot), I felt much better.

During that adventure, we "shopped" on Worth Avenue (think Rodeo Drive). Picture us parking our little rent-a-scooters next to BMWs and Porsches, and heading into these fancy-schmancy shops dressed in our shorts and sandals. I felt pretty uncomfortably out of place. (Side note: What's with the plethora white pants in the middle of September? Does the "Don't Wear White after Labor Day" rule not apply to Floridians? Just wondering. I mean, it was 90 degrees there, but still--EVERY WOMAN I saw on that street was in white pants!)

We also made it into the town of West Palm for an evening of Mexican food and street music, and a random stop for gelato. But beyond that, we baked in the sun, swam, rode the waterslide in the pool, and relaxed. We both made it through two books and several magazines, which definitely is a rarity in our lives, these days. And, if I may say so, the best part of the week was that we fell a little more in love. Okay, a lot. Vacations without kids are good for marriages. :o)

Meanwhile, in MI, the Munch (and Oliver) was hangin' with his Mimi, Papa, and Auntie Omi, having a grand old time! Evidently I should give up hope for him becoming a world-renowned musician, since he'll be too busy with his Olympic swimming career. Muchas gracias (again) to the three of you for taking such good care of our babies.


Glad to be back. Much to do. Off to do it.
http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100421

We're Baaaaack.

Rested, rejuvenated, etc. But it's too bad that the effects of vacation can't be carried back into "real life." More updates soon!

VACATION

I think it's utterly ironic that I was doubting my need for a vacation last week. I thought, "Well, how stressful is the life of a stay-at-home-mom, anyway?" As a result, my nemesis, "This Week", taught me a valuable lesson.

I have been to the hospital three times this week. One for the ER trip with The Munch, and two to visit my friend. I spent all of yesterday afternoon in the pediatrician's office/lab while the boy underwent several u-g-l-y procedures to rule out serious infection (we're in the clear), and to try to determine the cause of this mysterious eight day fever. To top of the week o' medicine, the dog now needs (ANOTHER) trip to the vet tomorrow because of a possible eye infection. I'm sending Brad. (By the way, have I mentioned that the dog is currently undergoing a nine month long process of daily-then-weekly-then-monthly allergy shots to manage his issues with food and environmental allergies? And he is also on a steroid to control his itching?Which doesn't appear to be working since he's scratched his eye area so badly that it may be infected? Yep.)

In addition, those closest to us are aware that there is Other Stuff going on that we cannot yet share with The Internet (andNOI'mnotpregnantbutI'mneverwearingthisshirtagain). But that Other Stuff has taken up a great deal of our time belonging to "This Week."

So.

I'm not telling you this because I'm complaining. On the contrary. I'm happy to take care of the needs of our son; I'm thrilled that there is nothing serious going on. Although, I've gone through an entire bottle of Infant Motrin and 1/2 a bottle of Children's Tylenol, and I'm not too excited that he's had that pumping through his tiny (and evidently difficult to find!) veins. I'm thankful to have the time to visit my hospitalized friend, to offer a tiny shred of comfort and/or humor. I'm..."happy" that we have the...financial means (ah! there's a PC way to put it!) to get to the root of my very high-maintenance dog's health issues. And I will be VERY HAPPY when we have taken care of the Other Stuff, once and for all.

But. I'm also delighted to be headed on vacation. I'm eternally grateful to The Munch's Mimi for hosting him (and the high-maintenance dog) for a week. And I won't be posting, so I'll see ya'll when we get back.

XOXO

Hannah

P.S. Ooh! And! My Google Analytics report tells me that my readership is up 37% in the last four weeks! What? Which of you is responsible for gettin' out the word? Hey, if you have a blog, feel free to post a comment and leave your link, as some readers don't know that your comment username is also a hyperlink to your blog. IF you want more readers, that is. And who doesn't want more readers?

FevER

Things I learned from 10:45pm-2:15am during the Munchkin's first trip to the ER:


1. Turns out, a small child with a fever between 100 and 102.9 for six days really isn't a big deal. Turns out, it can last up to two weeks, when accompanied by a cold.

2. When you call the nurse on the after hours line at the doctors' office, she will probably always tell you to "just get it checked out" at the ER, if only to cover her own butt.

3. I was "right to bring him in, though, just in case." Yeah, and I'm sure you're not sad about the co-pay either.

4. I'm proud of myself that I made it a year without having to call the after hours nurse OR take him to the ER.

5. I'm proud of myself that during our entire 2.5 hour wait to be seen, I did not once ask if it was almost our turn.

6. White sweat pants with flowered underwear are a popular fashion trend in this particular ER waiting room.

7. We should have bought the Munchkin a bead table for his birthday. He stayed awake the. entire. visit.

8. The next time I have an after hours problem, I should probably call one of my eleventy billion Aunts-Who-Are-Also-Nurses, first.


Le sigh. He's sleeping it off.

Edited: I did forget to mention the part about when The Boy saw the "Little Engine that Could" book, he pointed to the train and went, "Woo woo!!!" (Because every time we see a train--which is a lot; they go by the park frequently--we wave to the choo choo train and make the choo choo sound.)

1st Birthday Celebration!

Mexican Fiesta!



Cake!


Balloons!


Okay, so I was asked by a certain set of grandparents to "take lots of pictures." I took two. But someone else took 230. I narrowed it down to 134. You're welcome. (?) If mobileme can handle it, I'll upload them all so that the aforementioned relatives and others can download what they wish. For the rest of you, skim as needed.

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae/100419

1 Year

Weight: 22 lbs, 3 oz (50th percentile)
Height: 29.75 in (50th percentile)
HC: 18 1/4 in (50th percentile)

Dear Munchkin,
How your daddy and I have changed this last year. Correction: how you have changed us. We are overjoyed that you allow us to be your parents, and are so very excited for the years to come. Here are some highlights from the past month:

- Making your first stack of blocks, all by yourself
- "Kissing" me by ramming your mouth into my face
- Loving your new interlocking mats in your playroomarea
- Dragging your wooden tower all the way across the room so you could put it in the drawer under the stove
- Crawling up the stairs
- Crawling on hands on knees! Finally!
- Saying some version of "kick, kick, kick" in the bathtub, which is what I say
- Giving a nice smile to the man who wished you "Happy St. Patrick's Day"....on September 2
- ALWAYS showing your excitement when you see your dad
- Crying when Oliver was getting washed in your bathtub (because he was in your tub? because he was wet and looked different? because you thought I was hurting him? who knows)
- Making a clicking sound with your tongue, which you learned to do on the day you got your first fat lip
- Giggling and doing the butt dance while listening to your singing Hoops and Yoyo birthday card
- Snuggling with your head on my shoulder, but only after you put your Pooh blanket there first. You always sleep with your face on top of your blanket.
- Feeding Oliver by sneaking the food under the tray of your high chair
- Knowing OH SO WELL that you aren't supposed to play with Oliver's water-in the toilet-with the floor fan...and looking slyly over your shoulder to see if we are watching. If we are, you shake your head at us to tell us, "no no no."
- Instigating the drinking games at "Huey's" 1st birthday party

Here is a video montage of your first year of life:



All our love forever and ever,
Mom and Dad

Sometimes, it's JUST NOT FUN

Here's a brief synopsis of (part of) today:

A loving, caring person called me this morning to ask if I needed any help today, knowing that I was gearing up for company and the Munchkin's birthday party this weekend. I kindly said no, that I just needed to shop for groceries and clean, and even though we were scheduled to show the house at 4:15, I was confident I could squeeze it all in. Ahem.

The Munch and I went off to the store (and--stupidly--two other places, first), and during what felt like the longest shopping trip of at least the last four years, he was in full-blown meltdown mode the. entire. time. We returned home with an hour and 15 minutes before our scheduled showing , and I popped him in his crib where he proceeded to protest his third afternoon nap this week. But I left him there to squirm and fuss while I dashed to the car to retrieve the groceries. Upon flinging open the trunk door, a giant GLASS jar of salsa rolled right out and broke all over the garage floor. SwearingSweating and, um, crying a little, I cleaned up the glass and salsa, leaving a lovely smell of tomatoes to scent the garage that currently stinks like old garbage because the Garbage Guys forgot to empty our can last week....but that's another story. Finally back to the groceries, I brought them to the toy-strewn main floor, also decorated with cleaning supplies, and was three bags away from finished when I heard a key in the lock. CRAP.

The realtor (not ours) was ONE ENTIRE HOUR EARLY for the showing and couldn't have been bothered to call or at least RING THE BELL, FOR THE LUVUHGUH. I raced downstairs to beat her to the punch (thank you, dead bolt) and she said, "Oh, sorry! We're a little early." I muttered something about being "quite a bit early, actually," and, while the dog was trying to escape, told her I needed five minutes. Sigh. Frantically, I scurried back upstairs, shoved all the groceries in the fridge, threw the toys in the box, made a bottle, leashed the dog, dumped the cleaning stuff in the closet, collected the kid/pacifier/pooh bear blanket, and scrambled to the Salsa Garage to get the stroller out of the trunk. Thank goodness for the one-handed, super-quick release opening feature of the stroller! I picked it up, tossed it open, and BANG. Front wheel fell off. Etc., etc., we finally got out the door. But, man, when it rains, it hails.

The worst part? I have to go back to the store for more sala. Ole!

Mommy's Little Helper

Because I'm Sure What the Internet Needs is One More Picture of a Baby Eating Spaghetti

So here are six, instead.





Uh, he got a haircut the next day.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Oh, stick it up my nose? Okay."

To Whom it Concerns

Dear Unit 13,

While I'm fully aware that most would consider it unacceptable that I should be outside, dressed in my North Face fleece, and FREEZING on this, the 30th day of August, it is equally unacceptable for you to display your "Autumn" wreath and "Boo" decor on this, the 30th day of August. Please remove at your earliest convenience, lest you continue to confuse Mother Nature.

With Gratitude,
Unit 9

New Game: Head-Butting

Yes, it is official. My child has morphed from a Gender-Non-Specific baby to an Enjoys-Mild-Violence-BOY. His new game is head-butting me. It's actually quite cute. When I'm holding him facing me, he just slightly leans in and WHAPs me on the head. And then he does it again...and again...and, oh okay, so I'm playing along by this point, too. The giggle-fest it sparks is a little irresistible. The first time it happened was an accident, as Brad and I have been teaching him to give us kisses (which he does by opening his mouth like he's going to eat a grape, and moving it in the general direction of our chins). Evidently, the mistake was hilarious. That was four days ago.

I noticed today that I have a tiny sore spot on my forehead. Whoops.

Overheard...

...at the playground...in Chicago (that part is relevant).


10ish year-old boy to another 10ish-year old boy while playing tag:
"You know, Eric, it's okay if you don't catch anyone. Just keep trying! You know what they say: if you fail, try, try again!"


Good to know that Civil Behavior education is paying off somewhere.

Haha Happy 1st Day of School!

Birthday Preview!

Because I have "nothing better to do" (ha! but so I'm told on a regular basis by some haters), I'm having a shirt made for the Munchkin to wear to his Fiesta-themed 1st birthday party. If you haven't discovered Etsy, get on it, people! Heather of "Olive & Ollie" is creating it for him. Here's a little preview:

Always...

He always waves goodbye when I put him down for bed in his crib. It's definitely the sweetest thing I've ever seen him do, so far. In fact, he always transitions better from one activity to another when he can "wave bye bye" to it. When we were at the zoo a few days ago, we had to "wave bye bye" to each group of animals as we moved on, so as to prevent the tears and wild leg waving that currently accompanies a temper tantrum. Unfortunately for me, it took an hour before I discovered that grand trick.

He always dumps the contents of any container he runs across. One would think it was his mission in life to Ensure that All Things are Empty at All Times.

Anywhere we go, I can be assured that he will always point at any plant that we find. He always wants to touch it, and always appears to regret it.

He always, always, always tries to chase Oliver around the house and whack him on the head. (This is displeasing to Oliver.) (Hey! Possible eureka moment! Is whacking things on the head his way of showing affection??? Discuss.)

He always points to the picture of Brad in our room and says, "DaDA?" Now, the jury is still out on whether or not he actually knows it's a picture of his dad and is actually labeling that human as "DaDA?," or if he calls all pictures of humans, "DaDA?" (And always with a question mark. This kid hasn't met the period, yet.)

He always wants to play with "Carol" as soon as he is released from the prison we call a crib. Now, um, I have to tell you who Carol is. Carol is a doll. A very manly, hard-plastic, bobble-head, evidently female doll, modeled after the principle Wild Thing in the new "Where the Wild Things Are" movie (given to Brad by the fine folks at Warner Bros.)--but a doll, nonetheless. I'm secretly thrilled. Don't tell anyone, but I'd love for my kids to shoot giant holes through the gender rules surrounding toys. He wants a toy kitchen? He gets a toy kitchen. (Oh, and while we're on the subject, would someone please explain to me why the only current model of the Fisher-Price Little People castle is PINK? Now only girls can play with castles? What happened to the awesome gray castle I had as a kid that has a secret hiding place behind the stairs, and a trap door, and a dungeon. What's so GIRLIE about that?!?!)

I digress.

He always wants to play with the grown-up toys that have buttons. Cell phones, laptops, remotes, car key remotes, Wii controllers, shirts, pants. I hear this is particularly common in boys. Must be foreshadowing of activities to come. (Kidding about the shirts and pants part. Wanna make sure My Internet is paying attention.)

The End.


(Sorry...just ran out of words. That happens on Fridays. Have a great weekend, Internet!)

The American Dream?

Last night I dreamt that we had to move back in with my mom. Except she didn't live in her house, but in a tiny, two bedroom apartment. We spent most of the dream trying to find a place to store The Munch's Jumperoo (dream imitates life).

In the next segment, I was back in the classroom, except my music classes would be held in a 3rd grade classroom (while their classes were continuing), with some sort of reading/math support happening in the back of the room; AND my former DePaul professor (Dr. Smith, for those in the know)--who lost his office--would now have his desk in my room. And I received all this information 30 minutes before teaching my first class....of 3rd graders...the only grade I've never taught.

Incidentally, the school segment isn't too far removed from the current situation at the school from which I'm on my second year of "Parental Leave." They have an assistant principal for the first time, which requires a new office, which requires a new location for a conference room, which requires a new location for the desk of--you guessed it--the music teacher. An additional section of 2nd grade means converting a special ed classroom into a regular ed classroom, which requires knocking down walls and rewiring electricity, which ALMOST meant sending--you guessed it--the music teacher out of the classroom and onto a cart.

This stay-at-home mom thing is lookin' pretty good right about now. But I still miss the smell of brand new dry erase markers, and the fresh-faced look of terror excitement on the faces of the Kindergartners.

Welcome to another year, teachers. I miss you!

Funny Story

Instructions for reading Sandra Boynton's Blue Hat, Green Hat to The Munch:


Kid points to blue hat: "Chick-gah?"

Blue hat.

Points to green hat: "Chick-gah?"

Green hat.

Points to yellow hat: "Chick-gah?"

Yellow hat.

Points to turkey: "Chick-gah?"

Oooooooops.

(Kid doubles over, giggling.)


Rinse and repeat 842 times.
Put kid to bed with book.

"OMG" *

* "G" stands for "Golly"