The Rose Garden

5 Months

2012-01-23T21:04:00.001-06:00

Dear Rosebud/Lovey Loo/Little Bug/Bugaboo,

This may sound strange, but you've definitely become a person this month. You're completely aware of your surroundings, and it's thrilling to watch you learn about the world.

You've accomplished much this last month, including your first airplane trip to Arizona (angelic on the way down, not so on the way back), celebrating your first Christmas/Hanukkah, adeptly rolling from front to back, and attempting your first "solid" food. We learned from your brother to try oatmeal instead of rice cereal, since babies often prefer the taste. You didn't cry about it, but you mostly spit it right back out--more from a lack of coordination rather than distaste. Three weeks later, we're having more success, and you certainly seem hungry for it. Time to try another cereal and next month we'll add fruits and veggies. You're starting to say actual syllables when you cry. It almost sounds like "mama," but with a large dose of angsty protest.

My favorite part of the day with you is any time you're just waking up, be it in the morning or from a nap. You usually squeal with delight to see me, and I swear you hug me when I pick you up. You love being tickled on your changing pad, and there is still nothing that brings you more joy than a diaper change--except, of course, if your brother is there DURING your diaper change. Then your little world is complete.

SIR is still your favorite person on the planet. The rest of us are just decoration. He is willing to sit and play with you endlessly, and you track his every move and breath, and express your displeasure when he disappears from sight. When he isn't around, you still enjoy your play mats and bouncy chairs. You've recently been introduced to the Jumperoo, and while you can't actually jump in it, it is nice to have more than one toy at your fingertips. It's also nice that they're attached and you can't toss them out of reach.

Sleeping: Having completed a round of sleep training, you do well getting to bed at night. You usually wake each night between 2-4 and are generally up for the day around 7. (Although on exactly three occasions, you've slept completely through the night.) You continue to nap two hours after that last time you woke, which usually translates to two substantial naps and one catnap each day--provided we're HOME, which only happens 2-3 days per week. Sorry about that.

Eating: You're eating six times per day. Because of our "Vampire Baby" issues, we're currently alternating nursing and giving you a half and half bottle. You're getting a tablespoon or two of cereal every day, but I'm probably going to wait until you're six months old to start other foods.

It's no secret I'm having a hard time facing the fact that you're growing up. The truth is that being a parent to a newborn is decidedly simple. If the baby cries, feed it/hold it/change it/put it to sleep. There is no discipline involved, and you're incapable of manipulating or disobeying me. Being a parent to a toddler and beyond requires a much more nuanced approach, and I'm just a little prematurely saddened by the first time you will sass me or throw a temper tantrum--it's so hard to imagine your sweet nature becoming anything else. But who knows? Maybe you'll be perfect forever. (Insert naive smile here.)

Love,
Mom

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100850

Holiday Wrap Up

2012-01-03T21:06:00.003-06:00

Well, the holidays didn't kill me this year...but they came close. With two Hanukkah celebrations, four birthday celebrations, Christmas out of town and a New Year's Eve party at home, this mama is t-i-r-e-d. I'm thrilled January is here.

Here is a photo story of our holiday journeys this year.

Hanukkah/Christmas/AZ: http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100816
New Year's Eve:http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae/100822

For Crying Out Loud--The Second Installment

2012-01-02T21:08:00.010-06:00

(Find the first installment here.)

Under the loose guidance of Dr. Weissbluth, we spent most of month 4 sleep training. Remarkably, it has gone well, although the nights are still unpredictable, from a feeding standpoint. (It's probably time to encourage the little bug to cut out the 2am feeding.) "Sleep training," as we do it, is just a fancy way of saying we basically let the baby cry herself to sleep, although this time I've used a technique closer to Dr. Ferber's, which incorporates checking and consoling the baby without taking her out of the crib.

What we have learned from our last baby: It's not necessary to listen to the crying on the monitor. The baby is fine. The baby is not hungry. The baby does not need to be "re-paci'ed"--in fact, it interrupts sleep instead of encouraging it.

The rest of this post is going to be VERY boring, but I'm publishing it for documentation purposes. You wouldn't believe how many people like to discuss sleep training experiences! Read at your own risk.

Night One (1/2/12):

-To bed at 7:40, asleep
- Woke moments later. Cried 11 minutes
- Self-soothed for 20 minutes.
- Cried for 25 minutes. Fell asleep. Woke at 3 and 5:30.

Night Two:

- To bed at 7:45. Cried 3 minutes.
- Awake 10 minutes. Cried 3 minutes. Fell asleep.

Night Three:

- To bed at 6:30. No crying. Woke at 1 and 5.
- day time naps start shrinking to 30-45 minutes.

Night 4:

- To bed at 7pm. Cried 30 minutes. Woke at 3:30 and 7:15

Night 5, 6:

-bed at 7pm. No crying. Woke at 3:30 and 5
- day time naps return. Short morning nap (30-60) and longer afternoon nap. Usually a cat nap around noon.

Night 7:
- bed at 7:30. No crying. Slept until 6:15!!! And again until 7:30.
- napped 60 minutes in morning, 30 at grocery store around noon, 2.5 hrs at 2pm

Night 8:
-bed (with daddy) at 7:00. Lots of crying. Went in 30 minutes later and rocked to sleep.

Subsequent nights: Mostly asleep to almost asleep with very minimal crying. In general, still waking between 2-3 and 5-6. Day time naps exist but are still VERY unpredictable (as of 1/23). Often a long (2+ hours) morning nap translates to a short (30-60 minute) afternoon nap. The third nap rarely happens unless she will go down around 4pm. Otherwise, it's too late to nap. Bedtime is generally between 6:30-7:00pm.

Naturally, tonight (1/23), she went down at 6 and woke up at 10:30, completely unconsolable. Headed in to feed her. Sigh.
This happened again on 1/25 and I'm chalking it up to some serious teething pain, for which there seems to be no solution. Poor baby.

4 Months

2011-12-23T17:44:00.000-06:00

14 lbs 9 oz (75th)
24.5 in (55th)
40 1/2 HC (45th)

Dear MJ,

What a charmer, you are! Your days are spent sucking your fingers/hands/fists/wrists, gazing at me, constantly enthralled by your brother, and soaking up the sights of the world. As with your brother before you, I long to squish you back to your scrunchy newborn self, while concurrently loving each new stage of your development. I'm far less focused on milestones, and far more focused on just enjoying you--taking an extra five minutes at the end of your nap to play with you in your crib; letting you nurse longer than necessary if you need the comfort; watching you work SO HARD to get that toy in your mouth.

Your Favorite Things: You love your new bee dangly toy, the lights above the jungle playmat, being tickled, ANYTHING where your bro is involved, splashing like crazy in the tub. But your two ultimate thrills are 1) when we take off your pants, and 2) when we do leg stretches--specifically, the spread-eagle. Yep, we're definitely going to have to find other ways to make you giggle, or we're going to be in serious trouble when you hit your teen years. (Sorry, Internets...TMI?)

Notes:

You nap. If I stick to Dr. Weissbluth's rule of putting you down by the third yawn and within two hours of last waking, you rarely fuss. We stopped swaddling you only last week, even though you've been breaking out of it for months. It just seemed to help calm you. Now that you're in the sleep-sack, I definitely think it contributes to when you wake soon after being put down. You just need to learn how to soothe yourself after you get startled awake again. Anyway....you often nap for 1.5-2 hours, but also sometimes for 45 minutes. Your night patterns, however, while not especially awful, are still completely sporadic. Sometimes you wake twice a night, sometimes once a night, a few times you've actually slept "through the night" (6 hours), and one time you slept ALL the way through the night (11 hours). It's all well and good but consistency would be just lovely. You're not terribly into your pacifier anymore. Sometimes we can use it to help calm you down, but if you've decided you're going to cry, no amount of pacifying will change your mind. (It's for this reason that we've decided to start the "excinction" (aka Crying it Out) method this week.)

You've become a champ at rolling from your tummy to back, and you protest tummy time a lot less, as a result. You love to make this "ah-ah-ah" sound that reminds me of a vocal exercise one of my roommates used to do in college. You also "hoo" just like an owl, and squeal when something is particularly hilarious.

You are easily startled by unexpected noises. It's especially amusing when I blow my nose. Your eyes get as big as saucers, your arms flail out to the side, and you wriggle your little body like jello. This also happens when someone sneezes, when the dog barks, and, um, on New Year's Eve, when the big kids were blowing their horns. Too loud!!!

I'm glad you're at a healthy weight, are a happy nurser (minus our few Vampire Baby encounters...too gross even for the Internets), and have lovely "Thunder Thighs" to squeeze. Dr. E suggested we start cereal, as you (evidently) no longer get iron from breast milk. We'll see how it goes....In the meantime, I'm glad your daily nursing schedule has decreased from 8 to 6 feedings per day--minus the week we were in Arizona, when you decided to nurse every two hours. Must be really dry there. :)

I love you, my darling daughter.
Mom

(How you prefer your hands. See also, "Thunder Thighs.")

3 Months

2011-11-23T10:58:00.003-06:00

Dear Rosebud,

This month was all about learning to use your hands. You, like your brother before you, can now hit the monkey, although you're much more partial to the giraffe that dangles from your play mat. Just last night I saw you grab his foot and direct it into your mouth. And this morning you found your thumb for the first time--uh oh! You're enthralled by any toy someone puts before you, but not as enthralled as you are by ANYTHING your brother does. When you nurse, you use your free hand to grasp at the nearest object--my hair, my shirt, my fingers. It's almost as though you need an anchor.

We were able to capture some of your first giggles on video. Your dad and I found it hilarious that you mostly laughed without opening the back of your throat, so it sounds like you're laughing under water--complete with your Snorty McSnorterton noises that you seem to be (slowly) growing out of. In the last few weeks, though, your underwater giggles have morphed into full on belly laughs and squealing. I can't, for the life of me, capture it on video yet but I'll keep trying. You laugh when someone tickles your belly (particularly if you're undressed), and when someone says "boo," and pretty much whenever you're on your changing table (something about the butterflies on your mirror is HILARIOUS), or whenever someone takes off your pants. Let's hope that changes before you go to high school. (wink)

Bath time remains a favorite activity, especially if your brother joins you. He's great at helping to wash your hair and your feet. You also love when he reads and sings to you, and when he chooses a new toy (or perhaps ALL your toys at once!) for you.

Developmentally, you're working on strengthening your neck muscles. You prefer to sit up all the way, and are sitting in your Bumbo seat for the first time. You still loathe tummy time, but you did roll over from front to back for the first time. I'm not convinced it wasn't an accident, though. And, as I mentioned, you can easily guide your hand and fingers to your mouth.

Your eating schedule has spaced out considerably, as your naps get longer and more predictable. (For my records, your sleep cycles are usually 45-60 minutes, after which I often need to soothe you back to sleep.) You're ready to sleep two hours after you last awoke, which means you often go 3.5-5 hours between feedings during the day. Nights....are still unpredictable. You slept through the night (once), and followed that by waking every three hours the next night. I'm hoping this month will bring a more predictable nighttime schedule. Ha.

You are such a pleasant, easy-going baby. Thanks for that gift, my love.

Love,
Mom

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100806 (P.S. You may have heard that the Mobile Gallery feature offered by Apple will be discontinued soon. I will be moving the photos to another host site. Stay tuned.)

The Big Brother

2011-11-20T20:04:00.004-06:00

(Quick! Before anything changes!)

Dear SIR,

You are an amazing big brother. You care more for your sister than I've ever seen you care for a person--including your best friend, Daddy. Toward her, I see your empathy and concern. I see your unabashed glee when you're responsible for making her happy. Of all our family members, she saves her biggest smiles for you. I love that you "read" to her and sing to her. I love that you enjoy helping me put her to sleep. I love that you willingly fetch diapers and pacifiers and burp cloths for her. I love that you understand some days you get to "go first," and some days she gets to "go first"--usually regarding eating. I love that you'll jump down from the lunch table with a "Mommy, I got it," to give her a paci when she's fussing. I love that you try to engage her with toys--whether she wants them or not. I love that, three months later, you still ask to hold her.

With her, you put your needs last.

Thanks for being so incredibly awesome.
Love,
Mom

First bath together

(SIR was asked to watch her for a minute while Daddy ran downstairs. This is what he found when he returned.)

Sibling love!

"You're Doing it WRONG!"

2011-11-10T16:41:00.002-06:00

You ever get the feeling that you've been doing something wrong for a long time? That you can't QUITE figure out what's wrong with what you're doing wrong? And you certainly have no idea how to fix it?

Me too.

I have been feeling this way about a) child discipline and b) children's toys.

Frequently uttered phrases, "He never LISTENS." "He never OBEYS." "He's so DIFFICULT." Enter this book: Parenting with Love and Logic

It's not a perfect approach, and I'm certainly not going to be perfect while implementing it, but it's a start toward a healthier relationship with my son and a happier life as a stay-at-home-mom.

b:
This one is trickier, because it requires other members of my house to get on board. And the holidays are coming up. BUT. Here goes: I'm struggling with the amount of STUFF we have on our home (toy and play related), how it is organized, displayed and available for play. I want a crafting/art area; I want a single "playroom" area on the main floor (but I'm unwilling to sacrifice my piano and my coat closet); I want my children to get messy and learn from doing so. Enter Play at Home Mom. This group of women are some of the bravest mothers I've ever encountered, and I currently want to BE them. How I'm going to implement their techniques is a work in progress...but my Christmas shopping list for the children is looking a lot different this year. (Want to help me brainstorm? Feel free!!!)

Stay tuned...I hope.

Halloween 2011 Wrap-Up

2011-11-03T17:31:00.004-05:00

Hey! Guess what the most overrated Halloween activity is, according to my three year old? You guessed it...carving pumpkins. But bedazzling a pumpkin for a baby sister? Best. craft. ever. (Next year we'll explore no-carve options like these. )

This year, the boy settled on his firefighter costume by mom's deadline (Oct. 1), which gave us plenty of time to work on the baby's dalmation costume--since we prefer themed costumes whenever possible (read: for one more year, before she develops her own opinions). Thanks to etsy, I only had to make her sleeper (black felt + glue gun), and attach her ears to a headband or hat--one for inside, one for outside.

A last minute RSVP to a party meant we would need grownup costumes, too. One trip to the Halloween Express, two trips to Michaels, one trip to Target, and 15 yards of tulle later, we added a fire chief and...FIRE!....to our costumed crew.

Enjoy the photos! http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100798

2008/2011

2 Months

2011-10-10T22:42:00.005-05:00

11 lbs, 4 oz (70th %ile)
22 3/4 in (70th %ile)
HC: 38 cm (50th %ile)

Dear Rosebud,

What a lovely two month old you are! A happy baby, generally speaking, who isn't stingy with smiles. You smile at me, at your dad, at your grandparents...but no one gets bigger smiles than your wonderful big brother. He's certainly the most entertaining person in your life.

I love that you sometimes stop crying simply because I walk in the room. I love that you drop your paci as soon as you fall asleep. I love your double (triple?) chins and chunky, roly-poly thighs. You're simultaneously losing your newborn hair and growing it back, but it's left you with definite "male pattern baldness" for a while.

You're quite a gassy little girl, though we're working on those issues as of today (anti-reflux meds). You continue to snort and sniffle your way through your (usually short) crying jags, especially at night, so we're hoping the meds will help there, too. You continue to eat fairly often: every 2.5-3 hours, provided you're awake.

Speaking of...your night sleep is gradually improving, but there still isn't much of a pattern to speak of. Some nights you're down for the count at 10 and sleep until 4 or 5. Other nights you don't sleep until 11 are are up again between 2 and 3. The good news is that you always (oh, I'm in so much trouble when I use that word) go back to sleep quickly, and occasionally "sleep in" in the mornings. (Not that I get to, mind you.)

I still can't get enough of you in my arms, but it's translating more into cuddle time during cat naps. When you're awake, you enjoy your bouncy chair or your play mat, and fixate on anything moving above you--talking to them like they're people. You're happy as a clam if you're in the Bjorn/Beco, since it feels like mommy holding you. But the heavier you get, the less time we spend like that.

I love you, little lady. Don't ever grow up.
Love,
Mom

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100775

Newborn Photo Shoot

2011-09-29T17:24:00.003-05:00

So, we had "professional" photos taken of Miss M. I wasn't terribly impressed, to be honest, and here's why:

In a nutshell, I pretty much think every photographer needs a wrangler. I did the best I could with the subject, but there were some sloppy things that led to lots of photos that can't be used (the dark floor is wrinkled and glare-y, the fake trim is misaligned on some, the family shots are TERRIBLY composed). In the photographer's defense, we had a few things working against us. Miss M was a week older than suggested for these kinds of photos (read: she was fussy and not sleepy); SIR had a nasty cold AND waited in the basement with Brad for a million years until it was his turn, at which point M was awake for good and just DONE.

Whatever. You get what you pay for, I guess.

We got a few good shots of our little peanut, and that's what counts. I'm pretty sure I'll be putting both kids back in their outfits soon to take their photos myself.

See them here: http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100759

1 Month

2011-09-23T20:29:00.001-05:00

My Dear Rosebud -

Know how you can tell you're the second child? This post is being written almost a week late. Sorry 'bout that. (I backdated it.)

You are such a sweet, sweet baby. You tolerate your brother's sometimes slight overaffection, and you love to cuddle with anyone who will hold you--and there have been a lot of people offering to do that.

You are nursing every 2 to 2.5 hours, with an occasional nap stretching you a little further. You are The Spitup Queen. No doubt. We burn through at least five burp cloths per day, and they are scattered around our house in every place imaginable.

You are beginning to organize your night sleep. There is no "usually," yet, but OFTEN you are in bed between 9-10. You wake between 12-2 and between 4-6, and are up for the day around 7. Naps are tricky, partly because you're the younger child and get hauled around a little more, partly because this ain't my first rodeo and I know it'll be a while before you nap well.

I could literally hold you all day long, if I had nothing else to tend to. I feel very emotional about your babyhood, as I've definitely determined that the newborn stage is my favorite favorite favorite time of my children's lives. I'm not sure if it's because you're helpless, because you depend on me for nourishment (and, oh, everything else), because I just like snuggling babies, (because you can't sass me)...All I know is I'm grasping every moment I possibly can, and I WILL be sad each month I post these updates.

Please grow up slowly.
Love,
Mom

More photos here.

MJR 3 wks pics

2011-09-21T20:06:00.002-05:00

Yes, these are late.

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100744

SIR's 3rd Birthday Party

2011-09-20T22:28:00.002-05:00

In honor of National Talk Like a Pirate Day...

Here are the pics from the boy's Pirate Party. ARRRGGHH!!!

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100736

On the Day You Were Born--The Second Installment

2011-09-08T16:00:00.005-05:00

(First installment...if you want to compare and contrast.)

Dear Rosebud/MJR,

On the day you were born...your brother and I took a tour of a fire station with a group of kids and moms. It was positively pouring rain that morning, and I was remembering three years before when he was born in the pouring rain; I wondered if you might make your entrance in this terrible weather. The firefighters and other moms were joking that if I were to go into labor, at least I was in a good place for it ha ha ha!

1:30 pm - SIR and I visit the marvelous Dr. Chen. She reports that I am 2 cm dilated, and performs a membrane sweep to try to speed things along. Since it is still two days before your due date, and because your brother came a week late, I don't have high hopes. I had been having Braxton-Hicks contractions for weeks, and two nighs prior had some that were starting to become painful (real), but seven hours of those yielded nothing.

2:00 pm - I'm on the phone with Dr. Chen, calling to tell her that your dad and I decided NOT to schedule an induction at this time. She says that she respects our decision, but talks me into at least putting one on the calendar for September 2, since that weekend is Labor Day and our next opportunity to induce would be the 6th. This takes several phone calls back and forth.

3:00 pm - I'm on the phone with your Mimi, sobbing over the idea of being overdue, AGAIN. She mentions that she's headed to Toledo for the evening, and wonders if she should pack her suitcase--the one that she's planning to bring when you're born. I say, eh, why not? Better safe than sorry.

4:00-4:30 pm - I'm on the phone with your "Auntie" Alexis, iPhone in hand, timing contractions. Nothing new...I'd been doing this for days. Eventually I said, "Um, you know, I think I'd better get off the phone. These contractions are getting pretty real. FIgures that I might have a baby today, since I haven't washed my hair or finished packing my hospital bag." She said, "Well, why don't you at least get off the phone and take a shower--it'll put your mind at ease." So I did. Timing contractions the whole way.

5:00 pm - I call your dad. "I don't know if this is real or not, but it's rush hour and I'd feel better if you were at least on your way home from work. " He dashes out the door (completely forgetting he's supposed to be giving a ride to a friend--oops).

5:30 pm - I call Dr. Chen. Again. "I've been having contractions 5-6 minutes apart for an hour." "An hour isn't very long, so call me back in another hour if they're still going strong."

Now the timeline gets a little blurry, but by 6:30 pm your dad was home, I had walked the dog, tried to make some dinner (ha), finished packing both myself and your brother, and a set of grandparents had been put on standby to come pick him up for the night. I sent a text to your Mimi, asking her to call me before she leaves Toledo, to see if she should head back to Detroit or come straight to Chicago. Contractions are 2-4 minutes apart.

By 7:45 pm, your brother was on his way to Granny and Grand Dede's house, Mimi was on her way to Chicago....and your dad and I were on our way to the hospital!

8:15 pm - We arrive at the hospital, and your dad takes the worst photo of me in my entire life. I did ask him to snap a photo outside the car, since we hadn't taken a pregnant photo since 36 weeks. Silly me. Check in is quick and easy, and Dr. Chen is there to greet us and show us our room. (Seriously, readers, she is THE BEST OB EVER. She was with me--and I mean, IN THE ROOM--almost every second we were in Labor/Delivery. She coached me through contractions, she joked around with us, she answered all my questions. This is what you get when you choose a one-woman OB show. Oh, also, I used to teach one of her kids. That probably makes a difference.) I am 4 cm and 80% effaced.

The next 75 minutes are pretty rough. By this time in my last labor, I was already epiduraled up, so painful contractions were a thing of the past. Not so this time. We had requested the anesthesiologist to come administer one, but he was stuck in a C-section, so I labored sitting up on the bed. Dad provided a hand to squeeze, and my INCREDIBLE nurse and Dr. Chen helped me breathe out those nasty contractions.

9:15 - Epidural is administered. It was bad. I don't want to talk about it. But when it was over, I felt. so. good. I had talked at length (well, as "at length" as anyone gets to talk to the anesthesiologist...30 seconds?) about not wanting to be completely numb, and he did a great job. New with this delivery was a button I could press to administer more medicine, as needed.

10:00 pm - I am 6 cm and 100% effaced. Dr. Chen breaks my water. We think it doesn't work. But 20 minutes later, I'm having massive contractions that I can actually FEEL (even with the epi). At 10:30 pm, I pushed the magic button.

The doctor and nurse have left the room and I have another one of those crazy contractions. The nurse comes in and I tell her, "I feel like the baby is RIGHT THERE." She says she'll check me to see what's going on. She says, "That's because the baby is RIGHT THERE."

The whole mood of the room changes. Lights come on, nurses come in, the birthing area is prepped, the ceiling opens up, the stirrups are put into place. The staff is joking with me, and I'm laughing with them. My nurse says, "If you guys crack one more joke, she is literally going to LAUGH this baby out!"

Dr. Chen reenters. More friendly banter. She says it's time to push. I push six times (two sets of three).

10:48 pm - You are born! And you look just like your dad...

MJR Week 2!

2011-09-06T21:33:00.003-05:00

Okay, I SWEAR I'm going to try to get her birth story up here before her first birthday. In the meantime...more photos!!!

Hey! If you took your own photos (Mimi and anyone else), you can upload them to any of these photo galleries. If you want.

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100728

7 lbs 2 oz
20 1/4 in
34 3/4 cm

MJR Week 1 Photos

2011-09-05T08:00:00.000-05:00

Enjoy some shots of our little girl in her first week.

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100713

Three Years

2011-09-04T08:00:00.009-05:00

38 1/4 inches (75th %ile)
34 1/2 lbs (75th %ile

My Dearest Boy,
As I write this (in July), anticipating the birth of your sister, I reflect alllllll the way back to when you were just a wiggle in my tummy. We still have our good days and bad (and I suspect we always will), but I marvel at the boy you're becoming--so smart, and funny, silly, (and sometimes a teeny bit violent, but we're working on it), and wonderful.

Some highlights:

- 96% of all sentences begin with "but." Regardless of whether or not this makes any grammatical sense or is in any way related to the previously uttered sentence.

- the "why" questions. Especially when they don't make sense.
"Dat's a FIRE station!"
"Nope, it's a POLICE station."
"But why is it a POLICE station?"

- "But, when my lil sister's born, you won't have to go potty anymore!"

- Calling the little green guy from Star Wars "Zoda," and then later telling me I was going to "Zoga class."

- Helping me water the garden by dumping eleventy billion cans of water...on the same plant.

- Asking what you want for your birthday. Your response? "A golf shirt. A blue golf shirt." Um, okaaaay.

- Playing with your Toy Story aliens on the bay windowsill. You put them in the red corvette (they travel in style) and zoom them around, and then they take turns going into the "jail" (the lantern I just can't bear to fill with a candle, since it makes such a pleasing toy).

- Watching your pretend play. All of it. Using the Candy Land guys as supplemental fire fighters in the fire house. Allowing the Toy Story characters to finally play with others. Constantly cooking things for us.

- You are trying so hard to like to draw. This usually involves an elaborate procedure of setting out paper-no-coloring-book-no-paper and crayons-no-markers-no-crayons, which takes at least ten minutes, at which point you draw for 32.5 seconds and announce that you "made DIS for you! where can we hang it?"

- A current favorite pastime involves (yay!) music. You're obsessed with playing the drums (which I totally called, like, two years ago). You use your red rhythm sticks to play the little blue drum that lives in your room, and you prefer it when I accompany you either on kazoo or penny whistle. Songs of choice are from the "Miss Mary" collection (Music Together, natch). Additionally, you're enamored with Rock Band on the Wii. It's become a favorite way for our family to end the day: usually me on vocals, Daddy on guitar, and you on--what else?--drum set.

- "Are you talking to me? Me, ____(name), in the blue shirt?"
We're alone in the house, so.....yup.

- Telling Avery (the dog) all about the characters in the Winnie the Pooh movie. "Dere's Pooh Bear and Tigger--he's a silly guy--and Owl and Christopher....I dunno....and Rabbit and Eeyore."

- "What should we call your little sister?"
"Barbie."

- During the "Pinocchio" show at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre, "I wish I could have donkey ears."

- "I can't walk. I'm too crabby."

- Calling it a "smurfee." You meant "smoothie."

- Per your Mimi: Watching out the window at the 22 songbirds at our feeder, the grandbuddy began to rap on the window, because he wanted to see them all fly away.
Me: Don't hit the window too hard.
Him: Why? Because it will hurt their feelings?

- At night, you rarely fall asleep faster than 45 minutes after we've put you to bed. But tonight you decided to sing "This Old Man"--all ten verses. Except when you get to the rhyming part ("He played nine, he played knick knack on my pline"), you just make it up. Hilarious.

- Naked in the bathtub: "I'm wearing my body!"

I love you, my little man, my original baby.
Mom

MJR Hospital Photos

2011-08-30T16:04:00.002-05:00

Wow. I had completely forgotten how difficult it is to get stuff done with a newborn. Since it took me a solid week to compile, edit, and caption this first set of photos, you'll have to wait a while longer for the story of MJR's birth. (Hey! New blog nicknames....please remember to use them if you're commenting below. Otherwise your comment will be removed. The boy is now SIR. The girl is MJR.)

Check this link again in a few days for some photos I'll be adding of our little peanut in her "going home" outfit.

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100688

"I...

2011-08-28T15:44:00.002-05:00

...have arrived."

Summer.

2011-08-22T16:27:00.013-05:00

The Rose family's attendants have been horrible documentarians of this beautiful summer. Yes, we've been exceptionally busy preparing for baby, but we have done a LOT of fun stuff--and then Mimi crammed in a lot of fun stuff into her week with The Boy, too, but took photos, which we will now steal. (Grin.)

Our summer:

1. Parks, parks, parks. The park down the street, the park down the street the other direction, the park at the elementary school, the park near the grocery store, the park in the next town over with the AWESOME slides, the park by the pool, the parks at Mimi's.

(Photo credits: Mimi, Auntie Omi)

2. Pools. Somehow, our little family of three never made it to the pool all at the same time this entire summer (?!), but we have spent many a morning there separately and with some friends. And The Boy visited Mimi's pool, too. His swimming hallmarks this summer include an increased amount of bravery with water slides and putting his face in the water. If only we could convince him to keep his giant fish mouth closed...

(Photo credit: Mimi)

3. Playdates! We've hosted and been hosted. A lot. Thanks, friends!

4. 4th of July Parade and Picnic. We participated, once again, in the parade our town sponsors and marched with our theatre group. The little boys had a great time "driving" the truck and strolling with their pregnant mommies. Post parade, we returned to our abode for yummy cookout food, squirt gunning, and wading pools.

(Photo credits: Auntie G and Mimi (I think))

4. Outdoor concerts. Er, concert. On Wednesday nights, you can picnic on the Esplanade at the Chicago Botanic Garden, while enjoying a fun concert for kids. Wednesday nights have been yoga nights for mommy, but The Boy and I took advantage of this when Daddy was out of town. Sadly, our one and only photo was taken by me on my inferior iPhone 3GS, which does not "flip" the image for you so you can adequately photograph yourself. Oh well.

5. "Pinocchio" at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre . A beautiful venue with an impressive set and costume design. The music left something to be desired, IMO, but it was a great experience.

(Boarding the train heading to downtown, first train ride, sitting on the stage before the show, at our seats, proudly collecting autographs, and posing against our beautiful skyline.)

6. Lake House. Our friends hosted us for the day at their beautiful lake house, a few hours west of us. Mister Bravery rode a speedboat for the first time, swam in a deep lake with a life jacket, went on the water raft alone (only a mild heart attack for the mom), cavorted with seaweed, and had a great playing with the kids. We had two delicious meals, cooked S'Mores, chased fireflies, and on and on. It was a busy and fun filled day!

(Photo credit: Amy G.)

7. Movies! "Winnie the Pooh" with Grandma, "Kung Fu Panda 2" with us. And a Drive In movie (okay, it was really a "Chair In" movie): "Tangled," which we own and which is completely beside the point.

8. First Undernighter with Huey and his grandparents, while the moms and dads attended a dinner party.

9. Week at Mimi's. This is the second installment of this vacation (for The Boy and for his parents), which we're all hoping continues as part of an annual tradition.

10. The conclusion of Mom's Morning Away. Somehow I haven't blogged about this all year. Since January, The Boy has attended a wonderful program through the park district, wherein he attends "school" for three hours, one time a week. During that time, he painted, crafted, played with toys/kids, read stories, played in the park and the indoor "jungle," made a good friend, etc. During that time, I ran errands like a chicken with its head cut off. Okay, I also enjoyed a pedicure or two, a Starbucks/McDonald's iced coffee or two, and a teeny bit of time doing things around the house. Here is a photo of my boy on his first day of pre-pre-school:
(January 2011)

As our summer draws to a close, he looks forward to heading off to real pre-school when he "turns three." I look forward to finding the right time to potty train. And, of course, we're all eagerly awaiting the birth of The Boy's baby sister. Any minute now. (Tick tock...)

Oh, Dear Deer.

2011-08-03T15:30:00.003-05:00

This is a familiar sight in our town. We used to see this same mini-herd of deer in our yard all the time, before we put up a fence. It was not uncommon to let the dog out at night and see the deer freeze in the glow of the porchlights, turn, and dart away.

Here they are in front of The Boy's soon-to-be-preschool, aka his "Blue School."

Freshly Showered!

2011-07-28T10:00:00.000-05:00

A good friend mentioned throwing a shower for me, and I cringed a little. A second baby shower? Isn't that a bit awkward? So we agreed on "a little something, " just to spend some time with a few girlfriends and honor this baby-to-be. Since it's the second baby and I don't really need "stuff," I did mention that the thing I could use were some meals for my freezer--and I was sort of kidding. But she took the idea, ran with it, and threw a most beautiful cooking shower for four (and a half).

The Decor:

Party Favors (an apron, kitchen towel, wooden spoon):

Adorned:

How I spent the majority of the evening:

While they were doing this:

Giftings:

And ohmygoodness, THE FOOD. Appetizers galore, followed by homemade butternut squash pizza, followed by yummy cupcakes. And I should have taken a picture of the final result. I actually purchased a small freezer for our basement in anticipation of this event, and it's a good thing I did. I left the party with two dinners worth of enchiladas, two baked ziti, three helpings of homemade vodka pasta sauce, three helpings of tuna casserole, and two helpings of lasagna. (I should have kept this quiet though, so as not to discourage the bringing of food when the baby is born. Shhhhh.... :) )

So I give many thanks to my three besties for giving their time, grocery shopping, commuting, cooking, creativity, gifts, and company. I'm so very grateful.

The complete photo set:
http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100665

"Summer" Vacation

2011-06-20T22:37:00.002-05:00

I'm sure everyone who lives outside the Midwest is really tired of hearing Midwesterners complain about the weather this season. But seriously...it sucks. So, needless to say, we were really looking forward to escaping the unpredictable/cold/miserable/rainy weather in IL in favor of some nicer weather in AZ. We spent two days in the Flagstaff area, which is one of my favorite places in the country. Smells like pine trees, reminds me of summer camp, feels homey and outdoorsy at the same time...I love it there. BUT, it was definitely too chilly for swimming, so we all trekked back "down the hill" (as the natives say) to enjoy some pool time in Scottsdale.

We certainly were busy bees! Here are some photo highlights:

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100657

NYC: in photos

2011-06-19T22:42:00.002-05:00

Enjoy, and don't forget that you have to click on the pictures (not just the thumbnails) if you want to read the captions.

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100648

"NYC...what is it about you?"

2011-05-31T08:59:00.008-05:00

My husband loves me. How do I know? He suggested our baby-moon should be to NYC for a round of brand spanking new theatre. A summary [Disclaimer: I generally loathe giving written, detailed reviews. But I've had a lot of requests. Just remember this is coming from someone who usually pays a whole lot more attention to the performers and the material than the creative details.]:

1. "Anything Goes," starring Sutton Foster (Brad's girlfriend), Joel Grey, Laura Osnes (winner of NBC's "Grease" casting reality show, among other things), and a host of character actors and hoofers.

This is a lavish production, with a killer ship set and costumes to die for. The performances are solid, for the most part, the choreography intensely marvelous, and the direction...almost non-existent. When I first heard Sutton Foster would be playing the brassy Reno Sweeney, I was a bit dubious. Her credits include almost exclusively "peppy/perky" women. I was pleasantly surprised by her performance, though there were some touches of awkwardness between her and Grey, and a few moments of...interesting vocal choices. Overall, a grand production. I was entertained and a jolly theatre-goer upon exiting the (beautifully restored and newly christened Stephen Sondheim Theatre) venue--which has 22 stalls in the women's bathroom. Bonus! That said (sigh), I think I just don't like this show very much. Each and every Cole Porter tune, classics though they are, have the exact same structure. Very few numbers forward the plot in any way, and the farcical elements feel utterly dated.

Bottom Line: Oh my, the dancing. If you were only to see the end of Act I and the opening of Act II, you would have gotten your money's worth.

2. "How to Succeed in Business..." starring Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter), John Larroquette, et al.

I loved this show. Granted, I'm often prone to loving material I've never seen, so this felt quite fresh. The costumes were sharp and snazzy (and the character of Rosemary wears at least nine different dresses--all pink), the set felt appropriately modern, modular, creative, and complete with detailed finishing touches--my favorite being the stationary elevator that lights up each floor as it "moves" up or down.

Daniel Radcliffe, though a good 5-10 years too young for the role of Finch, is so freaking charming I almost died. First of all, this kid is shockingly nuanced. Secondly, he. can. dance. If only he was a better singer...I truly believe it's what prevented him from garnering a Tony nomination. Don't get me wrong, he sings in tune and hits all the right notes, and it's not a role that I feel really demands super-strong vocal prowess, but he clearly sounds untrained. In fact, after the show I had been thinking, "Gee, Daniel Radcliffe isn't too bad a vocalist." Then I saw Aaron Tveit's performance in "Catch Me if You Can." THAT kid can saaaaaaang. More on Tveit later. [Side note: We hear rumor that when Radcliffe goes on a two week press tour for Harry Potter this fall, he'll be temporarily replaced by Darren Criss, who plays Blaine (Kurt's BF) on "Glee." Yum! AND a singer!]

Bottom Line: It's funny, it feels fresh, and has received many updates that improve upon the original material (so I'm told). And it's simply delicious to look at.

3. "Catch Me if You Can," starring Aaron Tveit, Norbert Leo Butz, and Kerry Butler (sorta). Yes, it's based on the Leo DiCaprio/Tom Hanks film.

My new favorite tenor voice? Aaron Tveit. Aaron Tveit. Aaron Tveit. I'm one of five people who didn't see the original production of "Next to Normal," so he's new to me. HOLY COW. Why this poor kid isn't nominated for a Tony, I have no idea. He works his butt off during this show, rarely leaving the stage, looks GREAT (he's a better looking dead-ringer for Leo), sounds GREAT--I'm puzzled. However, the show stealer is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Norbert Leo Butz (you would have seen him in "The Last 5 Years," "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels," and he's cameo-ed on almost every recent TV drama ever made, it feels), who is nominated for Featured Actor in a Musical. He has been dramatically aged to play the Tom Hanks role, and seriously kids, if I didn't know it was him, I wouldn't have known it was him. Which, IMO, is one of the highest compliments you can pay an actor. And Kerry Butler ("Little Shop," "Hairspray," "Xanadu") is...fine. She seems a bit of an odd choice for this role, since she appears (for all intents and purposes) only in Act II, and is rather known for her comedic chops, which are completely unused in the character of Brenda Strong. I'm not a huge fan of hers, but I'm also not a huge fan of slamming actors.

I wanted to love this show, I really did. The reviews have been pretty harsh (although with "Spiderman" around, it's hard to believe the critics have any bad reviews left to give), but the creative team has some serious street cred, so I tried to go in with very few opinions. They use the show-within-a-show strategy for telling the story, which mostly works, though not always. I get a little queasy when the characters start conversing with each other before they've actually met within the storyline, etc.--feels a little hokey. (And speaking of hokey, the Laker Girl-esque dancers they've recruited to play flight attendants, nurses, and a host of other characters were just that--though Brad would strongly disagree. Then again, it's gonna be pretty tough to convince any straight man that a chorus of statuesque, mostly blonde, and mostly well-endowed women is superfluous.) The most basic problem with this show is that it's predictable, even if you don't remember the movie's plot, which was decidedly UNpredictable--hence its huge success.

Plot issues aside, I was the most disappointed in the music. With the exception of one tune currently being played to death on Sirius XM ("Fly, Fly Away," Kerry Butler's one "moment" in the whole show, in the form of the eleven-o'clock number), there wasn't one memorable tune. This, from the "Hairspray" guys? Better luck next time.

Bottom Line: It's pretty. It's highly entertaining, if not the least bit mentally challenging. The girls are hot. Aaron Tveit is my American Idol. Norbert Leo Butz is a genius. The orchestra is on stage (bonus points in my book). The book/score need work.

4. "The Book of Mormon."

This was our last and most highly anticipated show, what with all the Tony/critic/theatregoer buzz. I was speaking with another theatre patron at a different show who shared that when he tried to purchase tickets, the first full-price ticket isn't available until the end of July. The first discount (balcony) ticket isn't available until October. So it's safe to say this is the hottest ticket in town. For the record, I was having a difficult time admitting I was headed to see this show, in certain circles. But first, a story:

It was my birthday. We had taken a power nap at the hotel after a day of sight-seeing and touring Central Park. We got up, freshened up, and jaunted over to 46th St, between 8th and 9th Ave, for some dinner--with plenty of time to make our 8pm curtain at 48th and 7th. After much debate, we settled on sushi for dinner (hey, it was my birthday so I was giving myself license to be a bit naughty, pregnant and all). We ordered our food, enjoyed an appetizer, ate a piece or two each of our delicious rolls that had arrived in record time, at which point Brad pulled out the tickets--completely by chance. OUR SHOW WAS AT 7PM. IT WAS 6:59. I snagged the waitress, grabbed my ticket and RAN, since you know, I'm the pregnant chick who moves at a slight snail pace, complete with waddle. Brad took care of the bill, snapped up our sushi to-go, and sprinted after me. Luckily, we weren't the only patrons to arrive close to curtain, and I'm pretty sure they started almost 10 minutes late, so we didn't miss anything. (And yes, we DID enjoy some luke-warm sushi at our seats during intermission, since the Eugene O'Neill theatre is the smallest venue EVER and there was literally nowhere else to go. Also, bonus information if you're a woman sitting in the mezzanine: No matter what the ushers tell you, exit HOUSE LEFT for the bathroom, as the line curves up the staircase to the mezz anyway. Otherwise, you have to go down the right stairs, arm-wrestle your way through the main floor, only to follow the line back up the left stairs to the end of the line which no doubt formed while you were en route. You're welcome.)

Now for the hard part.

Plot summary, courtesy of Wikipedia: "'The Book of Mormon' [the musical] tells the story of two young Mormon missionaries sent to a remote village in northern Uganda, where a brutal warlord is threatening the local population. Naive and optimistic, the two missionaries try to share their scriptures — which only one of them knows very well — but have trouble connecting with the locals, who are worried about famine, poverty, and AIDS."

Did I laugh? Yes. Was I riveted for every moment of the show? Yes. Were there some great numbers? YES YES YES. Content firmly aside, my absolute favorite number is the opening of the show, where we meet about a dozen young missionaries (and which features the show's two leading men, Josh Gad and the hunky-ish Andrew Rannells--both nominated) through the singing of an intricate song layered with complicated polyphony and intense harmonies--the last chord of the song was worth the price of admission. There is another number later in the show that also features The Elders in a hilarious tap routine (and if you've seen it, WHERE DID THOSE VESTS COME FROM?!). And those are just the white guys. The remainder of the cast is black, playing the parts of the Ugandans, and they are a collective force with which to be reckoned. Of every shape, size and age, they tear up the floor and add surprisingly authentic and amazingly well-sung African music to the score.

Does it have a positive message? Yes. But, let's be honest, no one is going to see this show because it has a positive message.

Was it thoroughly offensive? More than likely. I am neither Mormon nor Ugandan, but I can assume both groups would find plenty of material objectionable. (Also, the language is rough, and anyone who believes in any God of any kind will likely squirm through one particular song.)

The biggest problem for me, and the reason why I can't wholeheartedly recommend that everyone should see this show, is that there is a fine line between POKING fun at something, and MAKING fun of something. I'm addressing the Mormonism here. Again, since I'm not a Mormon and the bulk of my knowledge of the religion comes from friends and TV (ahem), I can't speak to whether or not the material is presented accurately. I do know that many stereotypes of that religion appear to be explored here, and it FEELS like poking fun (jokes about the ringing of doorbells, abstaining from caffeine, etc.); but I would imagine that a Mormon would feel that many aspects of the religion are exploited (the history of Joseph Smith, for example), and that's the part that gives me pause. I couldn't help wondering, if this were a musical that exploited the religious beliefs of Jews, would it be as well-received?

Was it my favorite show, regardless of the above information? Um, yeah. What can I say, I'm a sucker for fresh material, I guess.

Bottom Line: If you thought "Avenue Q" was hilarious and it didn't make you blush (and assuming you're not a Mormon), you'll probably love this show. If not, well, I'd skip it. Religious themes aside, it's still "rated R." BUT. This cast is quite possibly the hardest working cast on Broadway, and they deserve mad props for their success.

***

On our last day in NYC, we had a couple of hours to kill before heading to the airport (Newark, by the way--eat before you go), so we purchased tickets for one of those super-touristy double-decker bus tours. Little did we know that they are "hop on, hop off" tours, which we really didn't have enough time to take advantage of. Dang! So if you do it, plan to spend an entire day, using the bus as your transportation to various neighborhoods in downtown Manhattan. Example: take the bus through Greenwich Village, and hop off for some lunch. Get back on (a different bus) and head to So-Ho, hop off for shopping. Hop back on and tour the financial district on your way to the Statue of Liberty. It's a really cool way to get your bearings in the city, and see lots of different areas without worrying about navigating the subway. (Also, you didn't hear it here, but they rarely seem to check tickets, so I imagine you MIGHT be able to get away with using yours for more than one day.) Highlight: I now know where Stephen Sondheim lives. Check.

Becoming a Music Teacher - Again

2011-04-29T16:19:00.004-05:00

For the last two years, The Boy and I have been attending the Music Together program in the big city. Try as we might to find an adequate suburban substitute after our move, it turns out that no one measures up to our dear Miss Mary...so we're back to our old location. Again. I figure, as long as it's just the two of us and we have a morning to kill, why not keep our wonderful excuse to head into the city on a weekly basis for some quality music time. (Also, we sometimes meet up with Daddy for lunch.) (Also, sometimes there is shopping in cutesey little boutiques.) (Also, did I mention I'm having a GIRL so the old boutiques I've explored ad nauseum have new life?!)

Story detour: A few months ago, I discovered that my Illinois teaching certificate is up for renewal this June, and I am MANY credits behind where I need to be to get re-certified. Letting one's certificate lapse is generally considered a super bad idea because the hoops and hurdles you need to jump to get back in the game are much more plentiful than just completing the necessary requirements in the first place. Basically, I needed a quick and easy-ish (and always expensive--that can't be helped) workshop that would earn me the necessary credits. Bonus points if it's an area in which I'm actually interested.

Flash forward to this Sunday, when I will start a three day training workshop to become...a Music Together teacher! Yes, folks, my brain, which has mostly been on ice for the last three years of SAHMommydom, will need to oil itself and ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk into gear. Yes, I'm worried about hand-cramps from note taking, sitting my pregnant self on the floor (let's hope not) for nine hours each day, having to actually teach in front of my peers again, etc. But the idea of three! days! off! of parenting! is totally worth it, IMO. Oh, I mean, the idea of having a brand spanking new Illinois Teaching Certificate is totally worth it. Ahem.

Will I actually put this new certification to use? Who knows. There are something like 30 people taking the training JUST IN CHICAGO, not to mention the other 40 or so trainings that take place around the country each year, so I'd imagine Music Together jobs are in high demand. Also, you know, I'm having a baby. But maybe some day....

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to organize my backpack and sharpen my No. 2 pencils.

(Ka-chunk...ka-chunk...ka-chunk...)

Sugar and Spice

2011-04-22T15:35:00.003-05:00

Remember the pink cash register? It's gonna come in handy....

(Yes, Baby Girl, I am posting an ultrasound picture of your ladyparts for all the world to see, but it's essentially YOUR FAULT because you refused to show your pretty face to the u/s tech, leaving me with this as your best photo. So there. Try to cooperate at the next appointment, eh?)

The Paci Fairy

2011-04-04T20:30:00.000-05:00

If you're a regular on FaceBook, then you've already read my posts about the Paci Fairy's visit to our house. Since one of the purposes of this blog is for documentation, however, you're going to have to endure a full post with all the details. That way if/when we go through this with the next kid, I'll have a lovely and handy guide for The Perfect Way to Ditch the Paci. Ahem.

With advice from Supernanny, Jo Frost, we planted the idea of the Paci Fairy in The Boy's mind. (Prior to that, we made a paper chain with 20 rings that we used to count down the days until he would get rid of his pacis.) On THE DAY, he placed his pacis in a gift bag with a note to the Fairy, explaining that he was giving his pacis away to a baby who might need them. We placed the bag outside the house before his nap, and headed upstairs. He and I both cried a little bit as we sat in our living room, staring at the bag. What a brave boy.

He had his game face on all the way through the pre-nap routine, up until song time, when he cried and cried and cried. And cried and cried and cried and cried. He finally tired himself out on me, fell asleep, and I put him in his crib where he slept for a comparatively short time (one hour instead of his regular two). I attribute this to the assumption that he usually wakes up during his nap, finds his paci and settles back down to sleep. Without the paci, he's lost that skill or desire.

Day two: No nap. He played in his crib for a looooong time and cried for his paci.

Day three: Played in his crib until I went up and rocked him to sleep.

Day four: No nap. At all.

Day five: Enter the sticker chart. He earns one sticker per nap, and a trip to the movie theatre after 12.

He has now napped successfully for four consecutive days, but his naps are definitely shorter. Today's victory was that he put himself to sleep for the first time, without assistance. He stopped asking for his paci several days ago, which is a HUGE victory for us all.

What I have learned: I originally thought we were in the ideal window for getting rid of the paci, since he's old enough to actually understand the explanation for where it went and to take some ownership of the process. I now think that if we had done it sooner, he would better have learned how to soothe himself to sleep, thus his naps would still be long. Then again, it could have backfired. Our reason for wanting to get rid of it now is that a) there will soon be another baby in the house who may use pacis, and if he sees the baby using it for several more years, he might NEVER give it up, and b) we wanted to get rid of them before the transition to the Big Boy Bed. Those beds are HUGE, in comparison to a crib, so a "lost" paci is much more difficult to find.

Props for us: The one thing I absolutely think we did correctly was to wean him off paci usage gradually. As of less than one year (I wish I could remember, exactly), he was only allowed to use them in the car and for sleeping. Then we cut the car usage out, except for long trips where he would take a nap. The good thing about this approach is that we weren't constantly hunting down pacis all over the house, and he wasn't toting them all over town. Yay, us.

"Isn't this exciting." - Sheila, A Chorus Line

The Difference a Day Makes

2011-04-03T15:57:00.002-05:00

If you read the last post, you know where my head has been. It's amazing, though, how helpful it is (to me) to simply put my feelings out there. First, in a blog post; later in a private conversation with my incredibly supportive husband. Technically, nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed.

Yesterday, as we spent the entire day together as a family, we were walking through the woods when I became overcome with excitement and joy that my son is going to be a big brother. I started to feel incomplete--as though the state of my family is in flux, and will be until this beautiful baby is born, because s/he belongs to us and is a part of us.

And it made me smile.

Living in Fear

2011-04-01T19:58:00.000-05:00

Okay, that's a bit dramatic. I'm not LIVING in fear....I'm just residing in it for longer stints than I care to. And I suppose "fear" isn't exactly accurate, either. Trepidation, anxiety, precariousness. Y'all, I am quaking in my boots (that I am still wearing--thank you Midwestern "spring") about adding a baby to this house and to my life.

Part of me has forgotten too many details about raising a baby: weaning off the bottle, when/how to sleep train, breastfeeding details, how to assemble the stupid Baby Bjorn. Yeah, I know it doesn't matter, really, and I know it will come back to me or I will relearn it. But it's still a source of anxiety and I can't help it.

Part of me knows the reason for the stress is due to the presence of a strong-willed toddler in my house. A toddler that requires a specific act of discipline every 20-30 minutes; who's latest reaction to said discipline is to SCREAM BLOODY MURDER in my face; who is growing up faster than you can say "reform school." (That's a joke.) (I think.)

The thought of ~~living through~~ trying to enjoy the sleeplessness that comes with a newborn under these conditions is causing periods of hyperventilation and terror. And, here's the thing, one of the reasons I waited as long as I did to get pregnant again was that I wanted to be as "present" as possible for this pregnancy and the birth of a new baby. Because one never knows when one is pregnant for the last time, right? I am desperately trying to cling on to details of this pregnancy, and am flashing forward to the first three months of new life, which flew by faster than a Lear jet last time, bound and determined to get my head in the game and REMEMBER REMEMBER REMEMBER the newborn stage.

I'm terrified of waking up some morning next spring and realizing that my baby isn't a baby anymore, and that I missed it all because I was "tired" "crabby" "overwhelmed" "exhausted."

Oh, it feels better just to write this all out, honestly.

The good news is that I have recently started yoga again, after a three year hiatus. (The only yoga I've ever taken is prenatal.) I'm using a couple of videos and am thinking of joining a class on the weekends, and my body feels soooo goooooood when I'm done. I'm fairly certain that yoga contributed exactly nothing to my last birth experience, but I truly feel wonderfully peaceful when I've finished a session. And I can usually refrain from heading immediately to my pillow.

Speaking of. I'm off to the serenity of my basement, where I trade the inconvenience of hitting the ceiling during tree pose for the extra padding of the plush shag carpet (shut up).

Thanks for remaining loyal readers. :-)

2 1/2 Years

2011-03-04T08:07:00.001-06:00

Weight: 33 1/2 lbs (75th)
Height: 36 in (50th)
HC: 19 1/4 (50th)

Dear Munchkin/Boy:

ARE WE DONE WITH TWO, YET?! ARE WE?! Just sayin'...

Okay, I've got that out of my system. I find age two to be a constant power struggle against itself. It's such an age of wonder, discovery, exploration, light-bulb moments. But then it's also an age of arguments, disobedience, back-talk, and regret (Mom's). And in traditional human fashion, I find that I spend more time recalling the tough times than good times. It's the reason why, even though this post has been in the works for months, I feel I should have more than just a few fun "lookey what my kid did/said!" tidbits to offer. This parenting thing is hard, yo, and I'm not ashamed to say it.

Here are some things that make me smile:

- You almost always say "please" when you ask for something. Even if it comes out, "I WANT MORE CRACKERS!!!!!!.....pweeze."

- You are a diligent cleaner-upper when prompted, and take pride in ensuring everything ends up in its rightful container.

- "Pack pack" = back pack

- "Piggy pack pack" = piggy back ride

- "We all done wis da wash cloth?" (You meant, "with the car wash")

- "Mommy, can you do me a favorite?" (favor)

- Daddy: "Am I your friend?" You: "No, you're Brad."

- "Okay, mommy, here's da situation."

- Trying so hard to make monkey cheeks (puffed up cheeks) in swimming class, only to end up making a fish face instead.

- Whenever anyone asks you if you think you're having a baby brother or sister, you always reply, "a baby sistah." (Perhaps we will learn about disappointment sooner than later? Time will tell.)

- You insist on telling the day's routine: "We gonna go to school, den we gonna eat lunch, den we gonna take a nap, den we gonna wake up!"

- Singing the lyrics to "Prince Ali" from Aladdin: "Pwince Ali, handsome is he, Ali A-Blah Blah." (It's supposed to be "Ali Ababwa.")

- Over pronouncing all your Ls, but skipping Rs and Ys. Yellow = "Lellow"

- You are the ultimate negotiator. All requests are met with, "Five minutes, mommy." And you hold up your five fingers, just in case I misunderstood. Or, "How bout...pway for two minutes, THEN take a nap."

- You're so proud of your new clock that changes colors to tell you when it's time to sleep and when it's okay to be awake. "Mommy! My cLLLock is LeLLow!" "My cLLLock is not blue!"

Here are a few pics from our recent trip back to the Kohl Children's Museum:
Pressing buttons to make the water jump

Grocery shopping. Atta boy!

Aaaand...cue the heart melt. It's moments like THIS (completely uninstructed as to how to hold that baby doll) that make me forget about the terrible two's....almost. :)

Love,
Mom

Christmas in February

2011-02-22T14:59:00.003-06:00

Let's be honest: In January, don't you get tired of looking through everyone's photos of Christmas? Bet you won't be so tired of it in February! I totally planned it this way on purpose. No, really. I didn't completely forget to post them. I swear.

What the pictures don't show...

The lovely service we all attended as a family on Christmas Eve.
The photos of The Boy opening his Big Brother shirt in front of my family.
Our tasty Christmas dinner, of which the highlight was lazy cabbage rolls (who knew?).
The majority of the group sacked out on the couch watching "A Christmas Story."
Three of us escaping to the movies late at night to see "The Tourist."

Merry Christmas!
http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100640

A Fun Game of "Simon Says"

2011-02-14T14:10:00.000-06:00

Remember this game? Feel free to play along.

Simon says, put your hands in the air!

Simon says, put your hands on your nose!

Simon says, put your hands on your belly!

Simon says, put your hands on the baby!

Simon says, "I'm gonna be a...

!!!"

(Due date: August 25)

"Disney Woolad!"

2011-01-08T22:16:00.003-06:00

We had A BLAST on our Disney trip in mid-December. It was a little nutty to take a vacation in between Hanukkah and Christmas, but we did it. The slideshow (with captions) tells a fairly decent story. Happy viewing!

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100625

First Snow: December 1

2010-12-22T20:39:00.000-06:00

I love when things are tidy and symmetrical, like the first snow arriving on December 1. And arrive it did. We were sacked with no less than five inches in one fell, six hour swoop. Now that we live close to the lake, we get all the snow everyone else gets, plus an extra inch or so, for good measure.

(By the way, as I'm writing this we are in the midst of Storm Two. It looks just as ferocious as the first.)

One thing I love about raising kids (kid) is that their memories take a loooooong time to develop. So as far as The Boy was concerned, this was his first snow! Again! He immediately wanted to get his snow garb on and go play, where we quickly learned the inadequacy of toddler mittens. (I swear that I once saw mittens and gloves for kids that go up to their elbows (you put them on before the coat), but now I can't find them anywhere. Genius idea.) But he LOVED it and frequently yelled, "Mom! I runneen in da SNOW!"

Little Avery (the Havanese pup) loved her first snow, too! But hey! Wanna know what's not so much fun? A long-haired dog after a run in the snow. The poor thing had to be crated until her snowballs melted.

Happy (Belated) Hanukkah!

2010-12-21T20:15:00.000-06:00

Click here for more photos!

Photo Shoot

2010-12-20T20:42:00.004-06:00

If you were a Holiday Card Recipient, you've already seen a few of these. Click here for the rest!

(And if, by some chance, you need a copy of one, let me know and I'll email you a high-res version that you can print.)

Thanksgiving--I know

2010-12-20T20:02:00.003-06:00

It's late. Get over it.

I hosted TG this year, and had fond(ish) memories of the last (first) time I hosted....you know, when I had a two month old INFANT. Seriously, who's idea was that?! Anyway, because I was in a crazy Postpartum State of Mind in 2008, in 2010 I had little to no memory of how to cook the turkey/get the sides ready at the same time/make the #$%& gravy, etc. But it all worked out in the end--even if I spent all of Wednesday AND Thursday in the kitchen. Hence, there are no pictures of the pretty table (my photographer is a man and men don't usually take pictures of tables with no people sitting at them).

Whatever. The food was yummy and I'm not hosting next year. Who's turn is it? ;o)

Click here for photos.

Borrowed: Swistle

2010-12-03T20:20:00.002-06:00

It has come to my attention that the dreary but necessary "last post" has been lingering for weeks. Time for something cheery! Except I'm too tired because SOMEONE decided it would be a good idea to take a vacation mid-December and SOMEONE ELSE decided she couldn't possibly accomplish that without large amounts of online shopping and guidebook-reading beforehand.

I digress.

The Holiday Season is upon us, folks, and what better way to celebrate them than by judging others who are just trying to do something nice! (I kid. Seriously, Swistle. Don't hate on me.) I bring you...."Swistle's Christmas Card Scoring System!" (The original post can be found here. Also, you can shop here for your own Swistle merchandise.)

By my calculations, my own card will receive a TWENTY-TWO! If you're one of the lucky few to receive one, I'm curious to know if we come up with the same score.

Enjoy!

"The C.C.S.S. (also called the H.C.S.S---Holiday Card Scoring System) is for those of us who look forward all year to receiving cards. It reflects how happy we are to receive them---and how our happiness increases when there are bonus thrill items such as photos and newsletters and prettiness. Lower scores are not bad: ANY Christmas card is a thrill to receive, and the higher scores of other cards don't make lower-scored cards look bad: 5 points is like a grade of A, and anything higher is extra credit.

Card received: +5
Card received before December 1st: -1
Card received after December 25th: -1
Card is pretty, and looks nice on wall: +3
Card is glittery: +1
Card sheds that glitter: -2
Card is shiny / has metallic accents: +1
Card does not contain card, but only letter, so there is nothing to put up on wall: -5
Card is e-card: -5

Card includes photo or is photo card: +5
More than one photo: +2 each additional photo
Photo is non-Christmassy so will look good on fridge all year: +1
Photo is Christmassy so increases holiday feeling of card: +1
Red-eye causes family to appear possessed by evil Christmas spirit: -1
Photo was taken on beach this past summer in summer clothing, so family looks chilly against winter pattern of card: -1
Photo includes dogs with glowing eyes who seem poised to eat humans: -1

Card includes letter: +5
Letter is informative and interesting: +3
Letter describes child as "amazing" or "already an avid reader and accomplished Suzuki violinist at age 3!": -3 each
Letter is so braggy and saccharine-cheery, I wonder why I associate with these people: -3
Letter is so very braggy and saccharine-cheery, it crosses over into comical and becomes fun to read aloud in an unkind tone of voice: +2
Letter uses the word "blessed" more than one time: -1 per use (not including first use)
Letter is a sermon/evangelism disguised as a Christmas letter, and contains pious spiritual hopes for our country, for our country's leaders, for mankind, and for me personally: -5
Letter mentions details of gross surgery/illness: -1 or +1, depending on entertainment value
Letter contains thinly-veiled family gossip: +3
Letter contains information that should have been told earlier: -2

Card includes check: +5
Large check: +10
Card includes announcement of pregnancy: +10
Card from Christmas Card Friends contains surprising news of baby born since last card sent: +10

This year my own card gets:
+5 for existing
+3 for being pretty
+5 for containing a photo
+2 for containing an additional photo (a Thanksgiving shot including my parents)
+2 for containing an additional photo (a divided photo showing 4 outtakes of the Christmas photo)
+1 for being a non-Christmassy photo

Some people will get just the first photo, some will get two, and some will get three---so my card will score 14, 16, or 18 points at most, with of course the 3 points for prettiness depending on the recipient."

Observation Day

2010-11-12T14:27:00.012-06:00

November 12, 2009:

The phone rings, early. It's James*.

"Hi, Hannah. I'm so sorry to tell you this, but the doctors are saying it's time to gather Kristin's 'people.' They are recommending we take her off life support today. Can you come to the hospital?"

* * * * *

November 11, 2009:

I am driving to the hospital. I am later than I was hoping to get there, having waited for Brad to get home from work. I haven't eaten dinner yet. Kris has been here (again) for several days, after her doctor suggested she stay and get some further treatment for her breathing problems. This, after many weeks of lugging around oxygen tanks and sleeping with the Darth Vadar machine at night, transportation to and from her home bathroom/bedroom via wheelchair, begging her to eat...anything, knowing that her bowels aren't responding, watching her dehydrate. It's amazing, as I recall these details, that we were somehow still caught off guard by the ensuing events. Nevertheless, none of us are surprised at the doctor's suggestion that she stay. (It's not even close to the first time she's been admitted since September.) In fact, if we are being honest with ourselves, we are relieved. We have been taking round the clock shifts at her house for more than a month, and it's getting tougher to provide adequate care. And to care for our own families.

As I arrive at Northwestern Memorial, knowing there isn't really any sense of urgency since I'll be there most of the evening, I stop in the cafeteria for some soup. I never feared or dreaded visiting Kris in the hospital, but on this night I have to work a little harder to motivate myself to finish my food and head up to her room.

Ding. Elevator. People get on and I wonder, as always, who they are visiting. I wonder how many visitors get on and off each day with The Big C Word on their minds.

The elevator reaches Kris' (new) floor and I head down the unfamiliar-yet-still-familiar hallway. I see Melissa a few feet ahead of me. She looks panic stricken. Doctors, nurses and machines are streaming in and out of what I now suspect to be Kris' room at the end of the hall.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"I....I'm not sure," replies Melissa. "I showed up a few minutes ago and her code blue alarm was going off. They wouldn't let me in the room."
If it weren't for Dr. K's white coat, I would have never known she was a doctor. She looks 24.
"Is either of you named Ariane?"
"No, she's out of town with her family."
"Are you Kris' family?"
"Um, no. But, yes." She somehow understands. She pulls us into a closet of a room and closes the door. There are four boxes of tissues and four chairs in the room. I can tell I'm not going to like it in here. As she talks, I am clear on every detail of what she is telling us, though now my memory recalls it more like the Charlie Brown trombone ("wah wah wahwahwah wah wah"). Something happened earlier in the evening when they were trying to transport Kris from one building to another, through an underground labyrinth I had experienced with her a few weeks prior. Her heart had stopped. They were able to restart it. She was unconscious. On a ventilator. When a person's heart stops once, it is likely to stop again.
"Do we need to 'rally the troops?' Is is that serious?"
"Yes." Not one to mince words, that Dr. K.
Shit.

Melissa and I are utterly bewildered. Kris was "fine" earlier that day. Except for, you know, having stage four metastatic breast cancer and lymphoma. But she had just started a new chemo! She was only here because her lungs weren't working properly! We aren't ready....SHE isn't ready.

She was alone when her heart stopped the first time. She was alone when she lost consciousness.

Dr. K gives us a few minutes alone to process the information. My head feels noisy and buzzy and drunk and I can't think...or I'm thinking too much. I can't believe this is going to be the end. I can't believe I have to call her parents and tell them the gravity of the situation. (I can't believe they don't already know.) I can't believe I stopped for SOUP.

Dr. K tells us that Kris declared Ariane her medical power of attorney. Ariane, her best friend. Her "sister." The one of us who knew the most--not everything (only Kris had that information), but the most. The one of us that would now be charged with deciding how to proceed. The one of us stuck out of town.

We start making phone calls. Donna, Colby and Kate, Brad, Penny and James: The Team. Her parents. And Ariane, of course, who immediately books a flight for the next morning. Ariane calls Natalie, who also books a flight for the next morning. Her parents decide NOT to drive in from Wisconsin that night. They're going to "wait to hear some news" in the morning. I am dumbfounded.

Hours pass. There are are few of us gathered around her now. A kind nurse tells us that she can probably hear some of what we are telling her, which plays in a loop: "You're not alone; we're here with you." Her body is clearly being ravaged by the goddamned cancer, even as we watch. She writhes in pain and her forehead gathers into heartbreaking furrows. She makes strangling sounds in her throat as she slips in and out of awareness that there is a tube helping her breathe. The nurse smoothes balm onto her lips, and my brain flickers like a neon light: this is the end.

Two of us stay with her overnight, fearing she might pass naturally and unwilling for her to be alone.

* * * * *

November 12 is sunny and cold. The traffic sucks. I've left my son with a loving family member, so that I can be present on this awful day. I have made my peace with this loss, but I have a bigger purpose this morning. I know I can be clearheaded in the face of sadness. I know I am a vital trestle in this support system, and we exist to support each other even when Kris is no longer in need. I have built a tiny bridge between Us and her parents, and it's my duty to see this through.

I arrive. I park. I ride the elevator. I'm sure I screamed, "My friend is dying!!!" at the people in the hall, but no one hears me. Dr. K is there again. The oncologist has been there. All signs point to ending Kris' life support. "Life Support" is a double entendre today. We file in, one by one, to spend some time with our friend, who we're fairly certain can't hear us speak anymore. Ariane and Natalie arrive. We witness a heartbreaking scene between Kris and Ariane that is too private to share in this story.

As Ariane is the POA, the medical team is relieved (and swarming) when she arrives. I tell her that my job today is to be there for her, knowing the impossible decision she must make. The staff corrals Ariane and I into another suffocating closet with tissues. There are students, hospice care workers, oncologists, doctors, and others I don't know. I can't figure out why so many are gathered in this room. They give us the facts about Kris' prognosis, which isn't news. They present Ariane with a decision that doesn't feel like a decision. The best course of action, it is determined, is that when Kris' parents have arrived and everyone is ready, the IVs and breathing tube will be removed and nature will be permitted to take its course.

The worst part of the day ensues. Kris' students have gotten word of her condition and are trucking through the halls of the hospital and clogging the waiting rooms. I grow resentful, feeling intruded upon. Ironically, these "kids" have probably spent more time with Kris than I have, in total, but I still resent their presence, having wanted to keep this in the family--so to speak. They should not see her this way; she wouldn't have wanted it. Her parents arrive and I feel equal parts intruded upon and the intruder.

We gather. The sweet, empathetic nurse explains what is to happen. She tells us that when the tubes are removed, she will also turn off the beeping machines for our own comfort...this transforms the room completely. The nurse applies more lip balm, adds a blanket, adjusts her gown and sweat pants. She asks us if we can think of any other ways to make Kris as comfortable as possible. We can't. We wait. We cry. She is breathing on her own, but we can tell it won't last long. We struggle to find some humane way to usher her out of life. We gasp through a chorus of "You'll Never Walk Alone," from her favorite musical. We are all holding each other in a giant room embrace. We are all holding our breath.

And then she is gone.

* * * * *

November 12, 2010

I am sad today, on this anniversary that shouldn't be celebrated. I am disappointed that my consuming thoughts are of Kris' death, rather than her life. After a year, I am still processing those last few weeks and days. When I was in the thick of it I just kept trucking along, not giving much thought to what was really happening; and I wasn't alone. We all just did what we had to do to help her as much as possible, for a group of friends that are still no substitute for a family. (And while we're on the subject, it should be noted that her family's lack of participation in her end of days was a 50/50 deal: partly they chose not to be involved, and partly she didn't want to involve them.)

It is my hope, in writing my version of this story, that it will help me continue the grieving process...though I'm not naive enough to think it will end the process. Anyone who has suffered a loss knows you never stop grieving. Ever.

I miss you, my dear friend. I'm presuming your heaven is filled with Manolos and brownie sundaes, and I'm sure the theatre is spectacular. "Walk on, with hope in your heart."

*names have been changed

Pumpkin Patch 2010

2010-11-05T13:52:00.000-05:00

Sigh. We visited the fancy-schmancy pumpkin patch a few weeks ago. You know the kind...exotic animals, hay rides, haunted house, and--oh yeah--pumpkins. The Boy was completely miserable the entire time. So we skipped the fancy stuff, bought some apples, cider and donuts, and had a little pity party on the sidewalk outside the store.

So, really, nothing to report, except that I love the light in these first two pics. :o)

A few more: http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100576

Mohawk Hat Giveaway

2010-11-04T14:22:00.002-05:00

I've been a fan of these hats for years, thanks to Kage.

Enter here to win!

"Annie"

2010-11-04T14:07:00.000-05:00

...is over. But these are some of the crazies I worked with for three months. Could you just eat them up?

Halloween 2010

2010-11-03T20:34:00.005-05:00

It's November? Seriously? October was jam-packed, as usual, but not with Halloween, per se. We were invited to our annual family Halloween party, and had every intention of attending (especially since I figured out what to do for our costumes in AUGUST) but there was a snafu at "Annie" that day/night/next day, which resulted in me doing a Milli Vanilli off-stage while another actress lip-synched ON stage. Totally the weirdest theatrical stunt I've ever pulled off, but we actually did manage to fool a few people.

ANYWAY....I was also unexpectedly visiting Arizona (see previous post) last week, so I also missed out on the pumpkin carving and other possible opportunities to dress up. Fortunately, Brad and I are JUST confident enough in our dress up skills that we decided to Trick or Treat as a family, in full costume. What we learned from just about every single neighbor we've met since moving here is that few bother Trick or Treating anywhere else but Barberry Street. Now, there is a house on Barberry Street that has been in full-blown Halloween decor mode since October 1, but we really had no idea what to expect from the rest of the street. Let me tell you--it was like a giant block party...and I mean GIANT. Hundreds of kids and adults trolling the street for treats; dozens of parked cars that carried Treaters from other neighborhoods (and suburbs, if you can believe that); families who set up card tables and chairs and greet the Treaters at the foot of the driveway. Some were tailgating, handing out water bottles (rumor has it if you approach certain houses with an "empty," you will be handed a "refill"), handing out goody bags, coupons to restaurants, party favors, and just regular old ordinary candy, too. It was amazing.

And it turns out that we weren't the only adults in costume! We stumbled upon a charming Mary Poppins and Mini Mary Poppins, and plenty of folks with face makeup and the requisite ears (see my two previous costumes in '08 and '09). Side note: I'm so glad to be granted a reprieve on the Halloween (W)Hore costumes, now that I'm a parent--but not to worry: that particular fashion trend is still running rampant in the 12 and up group. Seriously.

The Boy did pretty well for his first REAL opportunity to TorT. He actually mastered saying, "Trick or Treat," followed by a "Thank you," but he also melted down 'round about house number three. A blue lollipop did the trick until we reached the house that was giving away mini pretzel bags, whereupon he decided he was STARVING and no amount of coaxing to persuade him out of the crabbies. So we headed home. Made it about an hour or so--not bad for Age Two. Moral of that story: Snack the kid before you go out. Duh.

The whole "people wearing costumes" thing was a bit of a stumper for the little tyke. At one point, a boy in a TERRIFYING gorilla mask approached, took off his mask, and The Boy exclaimed, "Mom! That's just a guy!" Mind. Blown.

Needless to say, we had about three groups of Treaters at our house, one of which I caught trying to steal ALL the candy out of the bucket on our porch when we returned (yep, I'm THAT mom).

Our evening ended with The Boy running around the house in the white sweatshirt and pants I had purchased to wear under his costume, complaining that he "had poop." I then proceeded to change the. biggest. diaper. blowout. ever. Did I mention he was wearing white? And the cover on the changing table is...white? And the pad that goes on top of it is...white? I apologize to the environment for using bleach. Well, it was a two man job, as it turned out. My life is so glamorous.

I wish we had gotten more use out of our pretty awesome costumes (Brad's vest had a pull-string in the back, for heaven's sake!), but we've added handsomely to the costume bin this year.

More photos: http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100568
Also, It thought this was cool, so I'm adding it here for my own future reference: It's a Pumpkin Beer (or whatever else) Cooler! Genius!

In Loving Memory

2010-11-01T22:50:00.003-05:00

(1999)

[Edited to preserve confidentiality]

"H***, G. Edward 87, passed away on October 25, 2010. G. Edward H*** was a former manager for GLF Grange Federation League which later became Agway Inc. After many years with GLF he became the CEO of Farm Credit of Western New York which was a Farmers Cooperative serving the credit and financial service needs of production agriculture and farm related businesses with offices in Erie , Genesee , Wyoming and Livingston Counties . Serving in this capacity for 25 years, he was instrumental in the consolidation of the Farm Credit of Western New York Association, Lake Ontario Farm Credit Association, Finger Lakes Farm Credit Association and the Olean Farm Credit Association merger to become the Western New York Farm Credit Association serving the 16 Western Counties of New York State prior to his retirement in 1988. This merger resulted in significant efficiencies in operations benefiting agriculture in Western New York . Surviving are his loving wife of 61 years, Mildred; loving children, Robert (Val), Patricia (Ronald), Bonnie; 3 grandchildren, Hannah (Brad), Abigail, Megan; great-grandchild, The Boy."

All that AND he ran his own horse farm, grew his own veggies, took his granddaughters for tractor/horse/buggy rides, (sermonized us on the benefits of sulphur water), prayed the same prayer before every meal, and built me my very own stool for sitting near the wood-burning stove--it now sits on my front porch. Though his body has been steadily declining for over ten years, the passing of a loved one is never "expected," nor can one ever be truly prepared to grieve a loss. We will miss you, Grandpa.

(~1974?)

(2008)

An endorsement from our sponsors:

2010-10-16T09:28:00.002-05:00

highlandparkplayers.com

Benched

2010-10-05T14:27:00.002-05:00

Harrumph. I went to the doctor yesterday because I have a pulled muscle in my neck that caused enough pain to send me to bed for a good portion of Sunday because it literally hurt to hold up my head.

According to my doctor, the stupid pulled muscle in my neck is just a pulled muscle. This is good because...well, because it means it's not something worse. This is bad because I still have no explanation for why this has happened four times in seven months, in exactly the same spot, with exactly the same effect. Next to childbirth, it's the most painful thing I have ever experienced. It's even worse than pregnancy sciatica, but similar in that it's a constant pain that is horrendously distracting, not to mention debilitating. She gave me a muscle relaxer (which I can only take at night) and ordered me not to exercise until it's better.

That's the bad news: Usually this injury takes up to two weeks to heal (for me). So don't hate on me for missing my runs. I'll catch up.

Meh.

The First in a Long Line

2010-10-04T22:35:00.000-05:00

Don't like reading about pee and poop? Skip this post. :o)

During The Boy's aforementioned two year checkup, we discussed potty training a little. My current philosophy is (was) that I'd really rather wait until The Boy is closer to 3 than 2, so he'll have better clothing removal skills, balancing atop the toilet skills, etc. But he's shown a TINY bit of interest lately, including wanting to "go pee on the potty" before he takes a bath.

(I can't believe I'm seriously posting about peeing and pooping. Sigh. And YOU'RE READING IT.)

So, upon the recommendation of our pediatrician, we went shopping for a little potty. (Explain to me why the simplest, sturdiest potty at Target also happens to be one of the most expensive? Explain to me why I would ever want a potty to cheer for my child? You pee and poop in it. Disturbing.) He chose the blue one, and it is now the only intentionally gender specific item in my house. Then again, I suppose I did buy the pink cash register, so he's just getting back at me. He also selected a blue water bottle on the same day. Y'all have brainwashed my kid.

I digress.

The first thing he wanted to do at home, naturally, was sit on his potty--which he did. "Do you want to pee in there?" I asked. "Okay." Off with the diaper, onto the potty...and he peed. First try. Tonight before bed I asked if he wanted to pee before putting his nighttime diaper on. "Okay." Off with the diaper, onto the potty...and he peed. And pooped (by accident, I'm pretty sure). And we dumped it in the big potty and flushed--just exactly what they tell you not to do. And he cheered.

So, people, I'm not sure what all the drama is that we're supposed to have. Not that we're "training," mind you. I have no intention of letting go of the diapers for some time, but I guess I was expecting a bigger deal over it. Also, I now have no idea what the next step is. Do we just keep trying to pee/poo more often during the day? Wait for him to ask?

Bring it, moms. Extra points if you have a boy.

Hip to be Square and Other Stories

2010-10-02T22:49:00.002-05:00

My kid is square: 35" x 35 lbs. This is according to his two year checkup the other day. He is now in the 85th percentile for height, is predicted to be 6 feet tall by age 18, and is therefore pre-disqualified for the football team. (Right?Pleasepleaseplease.)

There has been a lot of discussion in our house lately on the topic of irrational fear. It goes like this:
Boy: "No bee gonna come in the house and hurt you." (He means himself)
Me: "Nope, you're right."
Boy: "Mommy, no bee gonna come in the house and hurt you and Avery."
Me: "That's right, you're safe. Bees don't usually hurt us at all. And I won't let bees in the house."
Boy: "Mom. Mama. No bee gonna come in the house and hurt you."
You get the idea.
Recently he was taking a bath and explored that fun looking button on the faucet...which turns on the shower. Of course the water that came out was freezing cold and scared the pants off him. So now each bath starts with, "Shower not gonna hurt you."

We had possibly our last day of Indian Summer on Wednesday, and used it to drive to the city to visit the beloved free Lincoln Park Zoo. It brought back lovely memories of our previous visits, including this one. The hit of the day was most certainly the giraffe. ("No giraffe gonna come over the water and over the wall and hurt you.") We visited them three times and were kicking ourselves that we hadn't brought along his little rubber animals (birthday gift from Mimi and Papa) so we could compare and contrast. He corrected the zookeeper that referred to one bathing mass as a Hippo ("Not hippo mommy. HippoPAmus."), and saw three black "Rhymeoferous"es. He narrated 99.99999% of the day's activities, asked me 6,264 questions, and fell asleep 3.2 seconds after takeoff.

1.Grand Dede has a friend he refers to as "Big Don," or sometimes "Big Donald."
2. The Boy has been singing the song, "Old MacDonald" for months. But it never sounds exactly like that, and I've been trying to decipher exactly what he's been saying.
3. Last weekend, The Boy was invited to a Northwestern football game. He told me he would be going with Daddy, Grand Dede and "Old BigDonald."
4. Mystery solved.
(Also, hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!)

C25K Update: Week 3

2010-09-21T07:43:00.003-05:00

Week 3: 5 min walking warmup; 90 sec run/90 sec walk, 3 min run, 2 min walk; repeat interval; 5 min cooldown. This workout is a little shorter than the others.

Run 1: Well, the three minute running part wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It seems like a huge jump from 90 seconds to 3 minutes, which is the longest running stint so far.

Run 2: First treadmill run. Harder to set my pace, but highly entertained by whatever TV program I was watching.

Run 3: I thought this was supposed to get easier! The beginning of today's run was really tough, though today was the first day I've run outside when it was quite brisk (52 degrees), and I think that contributed to my labored breathing. The second half of the run (after dumping the dog back at home) was much more pleasant.

Did I mention I use to run a 6:30 mile?

In middle school.

But still.

(Looking forward to more autumn runs outside!)

Structure and "School"

2010-09-20T11:05:00.002-05:00

I HEART FALL. But you know that already.

This year I love NEW things, though. I enjoy the summer, but I will never love it in the maniacal can't-wait-to-get-outside-and-look-at-the-leaves way that I love fall. I especially appreciate the structure that the fall brings. Partly from musical rehearsals, partly from our classes kicking back into gear, partly from the shopping for new clothes which always seems more enjoyable in the fall.

I love the light in my backyard, and how I can't still really tell if it's "partly sun, "mostly shade," or whatever. I can't wait to see what my new landscaping looks like as the weather changes. (And, believe it or not, I'm actually looking forward to gazing at my new evergreens topped with snow. For a minute.)

I love that (this year) I have Lawn Guys that magically blow the leaves away.

I love the first night it's cool enough to lounge around in sweatpants and hoodie.

And I love all the usual things, too....caramel apples, pumpkins and seeds, picking apples (must find a new place!), apple cider, baking cookies after a summer of "too hot to turn on the oven," sweatshirts, boots, fall jackets, football--wait.

So, The Boy started "school" last week. (SO NOT ANYTHING LIKE SCHOOL AT ALL, but he felt really cool when I said it. Now that we know he has an actual locker with his name on in (!), we will be packing his pack-pack full of...who knows. Snack? Cup? Star Wars guys?) This class we're taking together is basically an expensive playgroup comprised of four other boys his age and their NANNIES. Nannies?! The whole purpose of taking a Mom/Tot class (for me) is to meet other moms! Gah. So that is a bummer. But he thinks it's incredible fun and actually played WITH another boy during today's "class."

We also recently returned to The Land of Miss Mary. Hurrah! We seem to have a nice blend of girls and boys (mostly girls), some of whom were in our class last spring. And we have ALL parents (even a dad!), and NO nannies. Of course, it doesn't do ME any good because it's in the city, but at least they're nice people. And one of the women looks just like Jennifer Westfeldt.

Isn't the light pretty in the fall?

(1st Day of Pre Pre Preschool)

C25K Update: Week 2

2010-09-19T17:25:00.000-05:00

Week 2: 5 minute warmup followed by intervals of 90 seconds of running and 2 minutes of walking (30 min total).

Run 1: I'm not gonna lie...that extra 30 seconds of running feels like an eternity. Anticipating some soreness tomorrow.

Run 2: Ack. Forgot to make notes immediately after it, so I can't really remember much except that running on top of acorns makes me fearful of twisted ankles.

Run 3: I got off my schedule by two days this week. (Lest you think I'm a total slacker, I did replace it with about eight hours of cardio-heavy gardening with my mom.) So I completed Week 2 two days behind schedule. Ironically, today's run felt the best of the six so far. I felt like I could keep running after each 90 second running interval was completed. Yay! And the weather is still beautiful. Double yay!

On to Week Three!

Sweet 16

2010-09-13T20:06:00.002-05:00

So like today is totally my baby sister's sweet sixteen bday. And like people keep asking me if i'm all "oh i can't believe she's so old" and "oh em gee don't you wish she'd stay young longer" and i'm all like "um no" and they're like "why" and i'm all "because the sooner she grows up the sooner The Boy can have some cuzins" and they're like...."whoa."

(No rush, baby sister. ;o) )

C25K Update: Week 1

2010-09-12T17:16:00.002-05:00

(Changed my mind. I decided I want a record of these runs, so that means you get to read a weekly update now--lucky you. I also have a couple of virtual running buddies that double as blog readers, and they actually requested more detail. Go figure.)

Week 1:
5 minute walking warmup followed by 8 intervals of 60 second run followed by 90 seconds of walking.

Run 1: Piece of cake! And hopefully burned enough calories to cancel out the piece of birthday cake I had over the weekend.

Run 2: Definitely more difficult today, mostly because of the early in the morning factor. Also because of the soreness factor in my shinny-shin-shins.

Run 3: In a word..."side cramp!" Still not enjoying this, per se, but I realized I just needed a change in mindset. Instead of trying to get to the point where I'm "HAVING FUN!!! WHILE RUNNING!!!", I just need to view this as part of my job, no different from meal planning and cooking and diaper changing.

Polly Want a Cracker?

2010-09-12T09:45:00.003-05:00

In this instance, I'm not completely convinced that imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. Evidently, we say, "Okay," "Yes," "Are you there?" and "Bye, bye" A LOT on the phone....and we talk with our mouths full.

Side notes:
1. No, that is NOT a teeny cell phone. It's a teeny remote.

2. I miss my rugs. This video was actually taken early in the summer, B.P. (Before Puppy). In the days A.P., we rolled up the rugs until the housebreaking has been thoroughly mastered. We're close.

Not Alone in the Woods

2010-09-09T15:34:00.000-05:00

I'd just like to observe, for the record, that it's not just me who feels this way. Must be a blogger thing.

"Someone Who Reads This," linked by Swistle.

C25K

2010-09-07T00:07:00.003-05:00

If you've ever met me, you probably know that I do not work out on a regular basis. Never have. My most frequent form of exercise over the last seven years or so has been musical theatre...which works out great IF I'm doing a show and IF that show has a lot of dance. When I'm not in a show, I bike if the weather permits, and I walk the dog--neither will shrink the midsection.

So. Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's off the couch I go.

The "Couch to 5K" program has been around a while, and it's designed for people (sort of) like me: non runners who need a very structured and well-paced program for motivational purposes. The only difference between me and them is that I'm not actually planning to run an organized 5K--unless the spirit moves me to join one of the overcrowded races that take place in the city (traffic) during the late fall/early winter (brrr). Instead, I'll be using a podcast to guide my speed and intervals, and probably alternating between sidewalk and treadmill.

Why am I telling you this? Aha...as previously mentioned, peer pressure works wonders. If I tell you about it, I'm more likely to stay accountable to my workouts, which will require me to GET OUT OF BED BEFORE I'M REQUIRED TO BE A FUNCTIONING HUMAN two days a week--on purpose. And once on the weekends.

But since reading about other people's workouts is boring, this is probably the only post you'll see. Instead, I've got a little something at the top right of the sidebar, for the two followers I have that read the actual blog instead of in google reader. :o)

Wish me luck.

Play in the Park, in Three Acts

2010-09-06T23:26:00.005-05:00

The Players:
The Boy (as in, my boy--we'll call him Sam, to simplify)
Kevin, the Leader
American Boy
Me

Act I:
(The players are climbing on a too-difficult-for-a-2 year old-to-navigate-alone playground structure involving claustrophobia inducing giant plastic balls connected by steep staircases and an intimidating tunnel slide. Kevin is proving to be a very friendly 4ish year old with a savior complex.)

Kevin: "Hey, what's his name?"
Me: "His name is Sam."
Kevin: "Oh. I'm Kevin!"
Me: "Hi, Kevin."
Kevin: "Hi...Sam's mom."

Act II:
(After Brad and I both attempt to navigate the innerworkings of the structure clearly designed for persons under four feet, we let Kevin escort Sam through the tunnels while we watch from below. At one point, Sam gets stuck at the top of a step and can't figure out how to get down. Enter American Boy who is taller and stronger than Kevin.)

Kevin (to AB): "Hey, can you help my friend Sam? He doesn't understand what I'm telling him to do."
AB: "Well, does he speak a different language?"
[Nope. He's just 2.]

Act III:
(Kevin, still puzzled that Sam isn't understanding his litany of instructions at every turn, has decided the boys need to navigate the structure "one more time" before we leave for dinner.)

Kevin: "So...what...are you Hebrew? Russian? English?"
[No response.]
Kevin: "Are you four or one?"
Sam: [in toddler speak] "You foe oh one."
Kevin: "You're four AND one?!"

Curtain.

[In other news, we've had a few BIG days at the park, wherein The Boy overcame his bizarre (mostly out of nowhere) fear of slides. Peer pressure....works every time. :o) ]

2nd Birthday Celebration! (Or "Don't Stare at the Missing Comma.")

2010-09-06T22:52:00.004-05:00

To sum up: Buzz Lightyear. That is all.

Just kidding.

The Boy (who is a little less incognito these days, but I still like using the nickname) had a wonderful time at his party, despite a late bedtime the previous night and an I'm-too-excited-to-sleep-late early morning the day of. He was joined by lots of family and just a few friends, making for a very manageable party for mom. I did mention to Brad, though, that having 18 people in this house is NOTHING--compared to last year's party in the comparably tiny town home.

Anyway, there were Anton's sandwiches and pasta salad, Deerfield's cake (no small feat...I'll spare you the story), (beer), presents, and over-stimulated toddlers as far as the eye could see.

He is so blessed to be loved by so many, near and far.

The Short Version (58 Photos): http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100551

The Long Version (110 Photos): http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100559

Also, a shout out to Karen over at Etsy. Check out her shop:
http://www.etsy.com/shop/sewsweettoo

2 Years

2010-09-04T08:00:00.002-05:00

Dear ~~Munchkin~~ Boy:

"Once there was a tree...and she loved a little boy."

Thus begins my favorite children's book of all time: The Giving Tree, by Shel Silverstein. It's the story of the tree who gives everything from her body to her soul--happily--to the boy who loves her, even when he becomes "too old" to swing from her branches and eat her apples, and trades in her company for the companionship of another. When I was a child, it never occurred to me that the overall tone of the book was a bit sad; I seemed only to be drawn to the simplicity of the drawings and narration. Only as an adult did it strike me as melancholy. Then I became a mother. Then I became a mother to a toddler. Then I became a mother to a two year old, and I now believe the book is a metaphor for motherhood.

We have our ups and downs, you and me. I think toddlerhood provides some foreshadowing to the teen years, and rumor has it that the wackier the toddler years (for boys), the calmer the teen years. Here's hoping, buddy. :o)

It's funny, though, how quickly you can erase a tantrum from my memory, by singing the lyrics to a Lady Gaga song. You have an infectious laugh which turns into a belly guffaw when you're surprised, as you were the other day when "Ayeksis" was pushing you around in the tire swing for the first time. Your current favorite question is, "Mommy, what are you doing here?" What you really mean is, "What are you doing?" but it comes out a lot funnier your way. You also like to demand, "Mommy! Turn around!"--particularly when I'm engaged in conversation with someone else and you want my attention back on you.

You talk about your grandparents CONSTANTLY. "Go see Grandma kitty cats?" "Grandad say 'cheese?'" "Go see GrannyGrandDedeplaywithtrucksandcars?" "Where Papa go?" "See goatsandmotorcycles at Mim's house?" "Grandpa play golf?" "Grammie sleep in Simon's room?" (That's a new one. I have no idea what he's talking about.) You are so blessed to have eight wonderful grandparents who dote on you with their love and attention (and probably too many toys, but whatever).

Avery is your new best friend. I'm hardly needed in the morning because the two of you chase each other around the house, play with her toys, try to teach her to not eat yours, run around the yard, roll around in the grass. Our hearts still ache for Oliver, but we know that Avery is a playmate better suited to your unpredictable toddler energy.

You are adept at all sports, at the present. You can hit a baseball off a tee further than I can; you're a little ambidextrous; you love to "play shoot" (basketball) in the basement; when you play football with your dad you say, "Hut, hut, HIKE;" you've even been known to kick around a soccer ball now and then--to my chagrin.

Your singing voice is developing nicely. I'm sure Miss Mary will be pleased. Your biggest musical accomplishment to date is learning "Happy Birthday," and even being able to follow the pitch contour with impressive accuracy.

You're still working hard on learning your manners. Sometimes you say, "Thankyoumommyyou'rewelcome," which cracks me up. And you're now aware that burping isn't considered socially acceptable. You give a look like, "Oh, crap. Now whaddoIdo?" Someday you'll learn to say, "Excuse me."

It occurred to me the other day that your preferred toys are getting (hurray!) quieter. From noisy V-Tech trains to Matchbox cars, animal figurines, your dad's old Star Wars "guys," wheely back-packs, and booksbooksbooks. I love to sneak into your room and "catch" you reading on the floor. You get very upset with me when I reorganize your books or put those on the floor back on the shelf. There is clearly a system with which I'm unfamiliar. :o)

You still wear a size 5 diaper during the day (and your little potbelly has shrunk almost completely away! That makes (made) two of us!), and a 6 at night. Your feet are just about ready to get into size 7s, and you fit comfortably into a 2T, though we prefer the adjustable waist pants. See shrinking belly, above.

You're still able to charm the pants of every lady you see. We call you the Mayor of the Jewel (the local grocery store), because you can't enter or leave without saying hello and goodbye to everyone you encounter. Your dad and I caught you flirting at a restaurant one night, tilting your head from side to side and playing peek-a-boo with the elderly woman at the next table. Sweet.

My favorite part of the day will always be when you find a reason for me to pick you up, and you wrap your little arms around me and squeeze (and sometimes play with my ponytail when you're really sleepy)--so don't ever stop doing that. Some days I can't believe we still have three...whole...years before you'll go to Kindergarten. Other days I can't believe I can't hold you with one arm anymore. Where has two years gone?

Hugs and Kisses and a Happy Birthday (since you sort of know what that means this year).

Love,

Mom

8:30-10:00 AM

2010-09-02T23:00:00.004-05:00

On any given day that we don't have an early activity, this is what you'll see:

Avery turned 15 weeks today. The Munchkin is a little nervous that visiting Grammie and Grandpa might take her home on the airplane when they leave. :o)

Rub-a-Dub, Dub; Piggie in the Tub

2010-08-29T09:59:00.000-05:00

"My Staycation"

2010-08-28T10:45:00.001-05:00

Dear Munchkin,

While you were away, Mommy was busy, too. On Tuesday, I drove back to our house with Avery and then we took a long walk. My dear friend (and ex-roommate) met me in our town for lunch, introduced me to the local discount wine shop, and then we enjoyed several hours drinking coffee in the rocking chairs on the front porch. That night, I picked up some Maggiano's for our friends, I and D, who have a new baby, and your dad and I got to meet your newest little buddy: we'll call him Mr. Green.

On Wednesday, I hung out with Avery in the morning while The Guys installed the new shed in the backyard. I also had a meeting with a very unhelpful Backyard Lady, which was a waste of time--and you know how much I HATE wasting time. I spent a good portion of Wednesday morning fretting over how much I needed to get done and being worried that I wouldn't be able to cram it all in before you got back...so I decided to forget it all and went to a movie instead. By myself. With popcorn. It was awesome.

On Thursday, I ran a tonnnnnnnnn of errands all morning, logged some time on my traffic safety course, and drank a lot of coffee. Then I met a new dentist, had my teeth cleaned (no comments about the coffee, please), shopped for new jeans, and met a teacher friend for yummy dinner at California Pizza Kitchen.

On Friday, I woke up and went to the basement to start some laundry. I noticed a huge puddle in the laundry room. I noticed a huge (HUGE) wet spot on the basement carpet. I noticed a huge (HUUUUUGE) puddle in the furnace room. I noticed that the water heater was leaking. [Sigh.] I called the repair guys and went to "get my hair did." When I returned, the Water Heater Guy replaced said water heater, I spent many minutes on the phone with the insurance company and your dad, I tried to keep Avery out of everybody's way, I kept my cool when the Water Heater Guys took a chunk out of our banister....and didn't get anything else accomplished on my list for that day. Oh well. Later in the afternoon, I took a Metra train to the city to meet your dad and our friends for sushi and "Shrek, the Musical."

All in all....what a packed week filled with fun stuff. I missed you, though, and I'm glad you're home. Even if that home stinks of a citrusy carpet cleaner.

Love,
Mom

"My Trip to Mimi and Papa's House:" Excerpts

2010-08-27T21:47:00.003-05:00

(Edited for content.)

"Dear Mommy and Daddy,

"We were very busy all the time. Tuesday we went to the Berrien County Youth Fair. I touched all kinds of animals, and loved running all around, riding on Papa's shoulders and watching the horse show. We saw clowns and motorcycles at the circus. I kept asking Mimi to take me back to the circus every day. She said, maybe next year. Mimi asked me if I wanted to go home to Mommy's house. I said no. Stay at Mimi's house.

"On Wednesday we played with cars and trains and built a racetrack. I played baseball with Papa and swam in the little swimming pool and played in the sandbox. But I wouldn't sit in the sandbox. Yucky. At night, we went to the ice cream social at the park and did swinging and climbing and laughing. I still want to stay at Mimi's house. But I cried a little bit for Mommy at bedtime.

"On Thursday we had a dancing party in the living room. Auntie Naomi and Mimi took me to the Rock (Rec) Center. I did lots of swimming and went underwater. We had mac and cheese for dinner. Yummy. I still don't want to go to Mommy and Daddy's house yet. But I miss them.

"On Friday I played with Mommy's old [awesome, discontinued, Fisher Price] castle for a long time. I love to make the little people fall down the tunnel and climb the stairs and ride around in their little cars. We took a long walk and played more baseball and ran through the sprinkler and watered Mim's flowers--and Mimi. We played hide and seek and Mimi made me a picture book from the fair day.

"At lunchtime, Mimi asked me if I wanted to go to Mommy's house tomorrow. I said, Ok. On Friday night, Papa and I went to Toys R Us. I picked out a pack-pack [backpack] and some new cars and an Elmo lunchbox for my birthday presents. I think I'm like Mimi: I like containers.

"I can't wait to see Mommy and Daddy and Avery. I will miss Auntie Omi and Mimi and Papa. Thanks for letting me go.

"Love,
The Boy"

I'm going out on a limb to guess that Mimi and Papa and Omi probably took a nice, long NAP the next day. :o)

A True Staycation

2010-08-18T11:30:00.003-05:00

For the next three days...

I will not worry about death by Matchbox car or Star Wars guy.

I will not microwave chicken nuggets with ranch dressing.

I will not haul eleventy billion toys up and down the stairs.

I will not hear the voice of Elmo.

I will not pack up a snack before leaving the house.

I will not carry a diaper bag.

I will not read "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Ican'tbelievewe'rereadingthisagain, Very Bad Day."

I will not be interrupted while on the phone.

I will not wash a sippy cup.

I will not hire a babysitter.

I will not clean up sixteen baseballs, three basketballs and two footballs from the yard.

I will not witness a tantrum--at least, not from the toddler.

Then again...

I won't get sweet toddler hugs and kisses, or snuggle during pre-naptime songs, or be asked, "Mommy, what are you doing here?" (He means, "What are you doing?") or be commanded, "Mommy, turn around!" (He means, "Pay attention to me!)

But that's okay. For three days. (Thanks, Mom.)

Bye-Bye, Gymbo

2010-08-11T18:52:00.000-05:00

The boy and I attended his "last" Gymboree class a few weeks (ahem, possibly months) ago. I put "last" in quotation marks because I have learned to never say never. While he enjoyed Gymboree, I wouldn't say he actually gained many skills there that he wasn't getting in music class or from playing outdoors. It was really a great way to stay active during the winter...and to spend gobs of money at the mall in which it resides. We proudly know the entire layout, after six month of Gymboree, and have probably spent more time at the Gymboree retail store than the actual Gym. Whoops.

We will miss our wonderful teacher, Miss Rose (I know, right?), who is most certainly the best teacher at both locations we have attended, even if she can't sing. At all. :o)

Here are a few snapshots of his "last" class:

Lunch Date

2010-08-10T18:45:00.000-05:00

Anniversary, Part II

2010-07-25T11:01:00.004-05:00

Did you know that for a five year wedding anniversary, you're supposed to give a gift of "wood?"

Don't you think this is a much better idea?

Avery Rose
Born May 20, 2010
Female

CINCO/CINQ/FIVE

2010-07-23T22:47:00.004-05:00

Five years? We've only been married five years? How can this be?!

We spent this year's anniversary at lovely Lake Geneva, where we chased out the thunderstorms and spent the afternoon trolling the neighborhood in search of art...and ice cream. Oh, and we picked out a lake house. And then another, and another, and another. (None are for sale, you understand. And we haven't won the lottery recently, either.)

Many thanks to Granny and Grand Dede for taking care of the dude while we were out!

Panoramic Pic of Lake Geneva, compliments of Brad's iPhone 4

'Twas so VERY sunny...Great for moods, bad for photos

Art

Then I went on to do a show that night, and we capped the day off with a little celebration at our favorite (only) late-night bar in our town, with my cast. All in all, it was a lovely day.

*Hey, by the way, don't you love that I'm so well adjusted I don't even have to waste precious time apologizing to you for being off the grid for a few weeks? Oh...wait....

Coming Soon...

2010-07-15T22:49:00.000-05:00

...to a Rose Garden near you:

Somewhere in this ball of fur is a furball of our very own. He or she will be coming home with us in a few weeks, after we visit our wonderful Havanese breeder for puppy selection.

We enter this next phase of our lives with reserved excitement, a sense of preparedness, and a teeny bit of trepidation. But we have learned so very much from our last experience raising a dog, and are confident in our decision to add some fur to our family. Thanks for supporting us!

Random

2010-07-13T22:10:00.007-05:00

I remember every few days that I need to TAKE A FRIGGIN CLASS to learn how to use my super-fancy camera. My pictures suck. Maybe one day I'll actually remember to find a class.

Speaking of photos, it's that time of the year again: Dreaded family photos. Last year we went to "Picture People" and got a really nice frame with a photo sheet that we planned to replace each year (only paying for the sheet each year, and keeping the frame--does that make sense?) Here is a bad photo of a photo:

So I still would like to do that, but you wanna know why I haven't made the appointment? Because I can't face the project of shopping for and coordinating our outfits. Where is my on-call stylist?! Also, I've been toying with the idea of doing a more professional photo shoot with a photographer recommended by a friend. But this is a REEEEEAAAALLLLY expensive summer for us and I'm not sure I can add that on top of it. But, wow, I'd love to get some great photos taken of our family.

I made chocolate chip banana bread this afternoon. It is heaven in loaf form. It is not going to help the excessive weight I've recently lost (suck it, Falselyaccusingmeoflookingpregnant Ladies) stay OFF.

I was recently discussing the state of Arizona (its topography, not its politics) with a relative who will soon attend college there...man, I miss hiking. Like, a lot.

I want to get married again. Oh, relax. Same guy, same wedding, same day--well, maybe minus 10 degrees or so, since it was 110 the day I got married (July 23, 2005). But this time I want to talk to different people, order the OTHER entree--just to see what I missed, (not let a strawberry fall out of my mouth and roll down my white dress), and just have another opportunity to experience it again. It was a magnificent wedding. We're looking forward to watching our video in a couple weeks, in celebration of our anniversary. Should be a precious trip down memory lane.

I guess that's all. Maybe emptying my brain of some of its contents will help me fall asleep tonight. Goodnight!

July 4, 2010

2010-07-09T14:25:00.002-05:00

As has become our family tradition, we marched in a 4th of July Parade again this year, in support of our theatre troupe. The boy fell asleep ten minutes into the march, having stayed up later than he has since infancy at the fireworks the previous night. It was SO hot that day, and I managed to sweat all the sunscreen off my nose in the first hour, thus impersonating Rudolph the next day.

The parade culminates with a festival of sorts, complete with food, a band, pony rides, bounce houses, etc. It was also QUITE hotsy-totsy.

Upon returning home from the day's events, we collapsed into the air conditioned house and spent the evening playing Wii and eating Chinese. I went to bed at 9:00 PM, which I haven't done since...infancy. The boy's infancy, that is.

Photos:
http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100520

July 3, 2010

2010-07-09T14:10:00.002-05:00

We had a VERY busy holiday weekend. So busy I can't even really narrate, so here are some pics from the BBQ we hosted on July 3, with our friends and Brad's cousin, Andrew. Read the captions!

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100513

My Boys

2010-07-09T13:51:00.002-05:00

They look so sleepy, don't they? Maybe they're worn out from supporting their mommy/wife while she spoils herself doing what she loves--theatre. Thank you, boys, for coming home from work early, letting the TV do some babysitting, ordering out, picking up car seats, running endless errands....

I love you both.

(Opening night. :o) )

I Guess So.

2010-07-06T08:36:00.000-05:00

(I biffed a cartwheel at rehearsal the other day. Oops.

If you want to see it in person, read the deets on the postcard! (Shameless plug.))

Is This How We're Going to "Mark" the Summer?

2010-07-05T08:32:00.000-05:00

(Poor "boo-boo"ed knees...)

A Candid Performance

2010-07-02T21:04:00.004-05:00

Song Selection: A+
Melody: A for creativity
Lyrics: B+
Audience Selection: Quite Moosical
Iwannaeatyouup Quotient: Immeasureable

Just Too Nice

2010-06-20T15:03:00.000-05:00

Question for today:

I wonder why it is that when women mistakenly ask if I'm pregnant, I feel it necessary to respond soooo sweetly, so they don't feel bad for their mistake. In reality, it is they who should apologize (profusely) for making such a gaffe. After all, my rule is that unless a woman has initiated a conversation about her pregnancy, or unless you can see a baby emerging from her hoo-ha, you don't ever (EVER) suggest she might be pregnant.

Since the boy was born (21 months ago...ouch), I can count at least five times that five different women have asked about my (nonexistent) pregnancy. Therefore, I have decided that I would much rather have all my fat residing in my ass than my pooch.

Insert huffy sigh HERE.

Off to do crunches and NOT eat cookies. {Removes tongue from cheek.}

Better Late Than Never: 21 Months

2010-06-18T08:42:00.000-05:00

Chicago Botanic Garden (iPhone)

Dear Munchkin,

You are 21 months old. You are more Boy than Baby, more Sturdy Trekker than Toddler. You wear size 6 diapers at night. You've grown out of many of your 24 month clothes, but are too short for 2T. You know the difference between your sandals and your shoes, and between your blue shoes and brown shoes. Puzzling, since the rest of the color world is still an utter mystery to you, it seems.

Working on your manners, you are sometimes confused and utter, "Whaddayousayplease?" But you also have this adorable habit of saying, "Bless you, Mommy (Daddy/Mimi/Dede, etc.)," even if that person is simply blowing his nose. You want to "go dat fway" instead of this way, you want to "have dat," and go "bak down"(stairs) every time we've gone up. You want to "watchee Elmo" and "puppy movie" (Disney's Bolt) whenever possible. You spend a large portion of the day listening....pointing to your ear and saying, "hear airplane/choo-choo/motorcycle/dump twuck (?)/elephant (??)."

You like to put "kefwup" (ketchup) on everything, and appreciate a tasty "quesadaddy" for lunch. You've discovered that chewing on baby carrots (YES!!!) are soothing to sore gums trying to grow eye teeth.

You are a terrific cleaner-upper, often doing so before being asked--though it seems to be the process of throwing things into the baskets that is more satisfying than the tidy result. You differ from your mom in that way. :o)

You sing! "Twinkle, "Old MacDonald," "Wheels on the Bus," Music Together's "Hello Song" and bird round and "Green and Blue." Your favorite lullaby is "Scarborough Fair," followed closely by the bye-bye song from music class, during which you sing bye-bye to everything from Grandpa to "MommyDaddySimonTwuck" (???).

The sprinkler is the coolest thing since sliced bread. You discovered your water limitation, however, when we took you to the beach last week and put your toes in the FREEZING LAKE MICHIGAN WATER. FREEZING. You learned to like sand that day. On a day off with Daddy, your first priority is a "bike wide," preferably to a park. Any park.

Oh, there is so much more I could share....perhaps I'll add on more later. You are delightful. Smart, funny, inquisitive. I have so much love for you.

Always,
Mom

The Return of Miss Mary

2010-05-27T10:52:00.002-05:00

You may recall our love affair with Miss Mary. When we moved, we assumed we'd have to check out of her class forever, and went in search of another Music Together class in a neighboring suburb.

Well, I should have known that it's not "The Program" that makes Music Together a successful program (though it's certainly a contributing factor), it's the teacher. Duh. Needless to say, we were less than impressed with our new version of Miss Mary.

We decided to return to music class in the city, which is conveniently located around the corner from Brad's office, so we used that opportunity (only once so far) to hook up with him for lunch after class. It's a great excuse to get back into the city once a week, and to remind ourselves why we left in the first place (traffic, for one). :o)

Miss Mary has enjoyed watching The Munchkin grow up. She met him at seven months of age and watched him learn to crawl, walk, talk, and experienced his temper-tantrum phase (the first of many, I'm sure). Now he actually enjoys participating with me, as opposed to across the room from me, which has been a nice transition for me, too.

Part of the Music Together curriculum includes encouraging parents and kids to listen to recordings of the music used in class, because the MT gurus know repetition is the key to learning. Often, the songs will culminate with a short echo exercise, either rhythmic or melodic. This encourages kids to repeat vocal patterns and practice matching pitch. The Munchkin usually ignores those little practice sessions....until now.

One of the patterns starts with a man making a horse clip-clop sound with his tongue. After four beats, another musician says a pattern (ba, ba, bababa ba), which the listener is supposed to repeat. Watch what happens now:

Hee hee!

Our Budding Musician

2010-05-21T18:06:00.000-05:00

Old Footage

2010-05-20T14:20:00.000-05:00

I think I edited this footage together almost two months ago, so it's a little out-of-date now, and (probably) not very interesting. BUT, I think it's unfair that I get to spend all day with this awesome kid and you don't, so here's a little slice of life.

HAIR

2010-05-19T13:46:00.004-05:00

No kidding, my 20 month old recently got his SEVENTH professional haircut. One, because his hair grows faster than our lawn, and two, because his mom doesn't trust herself with scissors. (I probably need one of my aunts to give me a tutorial one of these days.)

Our current fave place for kids' cuts is the little kiddie salon in our mall, which we can visit after Gymboree. The boy loves it because he can sit in the train seat, eat crackers and watch T.V. (And then he walks around for the rest of the day repeating, "Sit? Choo-Choo? Sit. Choo-choo. Hair? Sit? Choo-choo. Hair. Sit choo-choo. Hairsitchoochoo." Etc.)

Before:
(By the way, this is how he holds ALL objects when he has several to handle. Tucked up under his chin. It's precious.)

After:

(With hair gel. Her idea, not mine.)

Life

2010-05-10T15:24:00.002-05:00

That's a very adequate title to describe our recent trip to Scottsdale, to visit The Munch's Grandpa and Grammie.

The desert is teeming with life, especially new life, in April. Woodpeckers set up camp inside cacti and birds all around are guarding their eggs or their young. The hummingbirds zip around and around...some seem to have a death wish when they practically dive bomb the people in the face. Rattlesnakes cross the road, providing a new punchline to the old chicken joke. The monkeys in the zoo screech with excitement and who knows what else. Bobcats are "doing it" in the backyard. And we get a visit from a dog who starts to melt the ice surrounding my heart.

All in all, we had a wonderful trip, though I'm sad I won't get to watch those baby woodpeckers learn to fly.

Some photos for your perusal:
http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100486

Reading Rerun

2010-04-29T20:27:00.002-05:00

I am a notorious re-reader. Or, at least, I was in my more youthful youth. I used to snuggle up to a book like it was an old friend or well-loved stuffed animal. Certain books provided a comfort akin to listening to memory-enducing music, eating cucumber salad (a Grandma Hope special), or smelling spring lilacs. It's always struck me as funny, though, which books ended up re-read, as the characters or plots themselves were not particularly comforting characters or plots. Case in point: I once read "Gone with the Wind" EVERY SINGLE SUMMER for something like six years. It used to take me the entire summer, and by the time I was finished, I had forgotten the details of the beginning, so I simply read it again--a year later. But "GWTW" is not a snuggly story about friendship and bunnies and rainbows. It's about hardship, war, poverty, and other angsty Southern Belle drama.

A book I read at least fifteen times during my late-elementary to middle school years was entitled, "Anywhere Else but Here" (Bruce Clements). Among the details of the plot is a girl whose mother died when she was a child, a troubled youth who tries to light himself afire, his whack-job mother that runs off to self-help meetings run by a cultish figurehead, and an old man who takes a liking to the main character's dollhouse--a relationship that seemed certain to run into slimy waters (but doesn't). Again, not exactly pre chick lit material.

But this time, while re-reading "Eat, Pray, Love," by Elizabeth Gilbert, I wholly admit that it is as chicky as chick lit gets--except that it's autobiographical. The first time I read it, I was deeply moved by the second section, "Pray." Capsulized, it's Elizabeth's (see, I've read her book twice, so we're on a first-name basis) journey to India to study yoga for many weeks. When I first read this section, I was pregnant and studying yoga for the first time. Well, okay, "study" is a stretch. My pregnant friend and I used to show up for class and try not to pass out while we forced our disproportionate bodies to bend and stretch in ways we'd never dreamed possible. Then we'd hit the Starbucks. But I digress....Elizabeth's yoga journey included not only the Hatha part (the stretching and holding of positions), but also the meditation part, which was never something I considered in seriousness, and certainly not something covered in prenatal yoga.

Until my adulthood, "meditation" was not a noun I heard in regularity, rather "prayer" was the implied verb of choice. I find this interesting, since "meditation" and "prayer" seem to be linked. As it is described in the book, "prayer" is about talking to God, while "meditation" is about listening to Him. Yes, you can go on and on about whether or not the God the Christians believe is in the "same" God the Yogis believe in yadda yadda yadda, but you'd be missing the point, in my opinion. The point is that to do one without the other is like trying to solve math equations, but never checking the back of the book to confirm that you're on the right track.

What's the point?

Not sure that I have one...today. But one of the struggles Elizabeth documents in her meditation practice is the inability to keep her mind "still." And THAT, my friends, is something to which I can assuredly relate, almost on a daily basis. Sometimes I physically and literally cannot write. I cannot keep my mind still long enough to get my thoughts on paper (er, screen). And other times my mind is so frantic that I cannot sleep. Sometimes I wake from a dead sleep to write myself a reminder on the pad I keep in my nightstand. Sometimes I have to whip out my phone in mid-sentence, to write a note to myself. Maybe it's a sign I should spend more time in meditation, the practice of teaching one's mind to be still.

Then again, other times it feels as though my mind is stuck in a swamp filled with Tired Mommy-Brain Mud. And then I can't write simply because I feel I have nothing to write ABOUT, or I can't remember what it was that I was going to say. It's exhausting being inside my head, really.

In any case, I'm enjoying reading this book again....though I admit that this time I'm drawn less to the part of the book that discusses hard work in the form of yoga study, and much more attracted to the part about eating pounds and pounds of Italian food. Maybe THAT's a sign.

Cue the Angel Voices

2010-04-22T16:25:00.000-05:00

I don't want to alarm anyone, but I MAY have found the perfect swimsuit. Well, swimdress. And, yes, I'm well aware that the swimdress is not a new invention, but this is the first one I tried on that didn't make me feel all dowdy and motherly and stuff. There is a serious plunge in that neckline, people. But it also has lovely ruching at my biggest (literally) problem area, and a cutesy skirt, and OMG the ruffles on the halter! I think it looks better in person than on the model, but there is NO CHANCE that I will intentionally post a candid photo of myself in a swimanything. After my visit to AZ next week, there might be some candid-LOOKING photos of me in a swimdress, but I assure you they will all be posed, with the applicable parts sucked in.

Anyway...it's Kenneth Cole.

WOW.

2010-04-14T14:17:00.003-05:00

I am amazed and flattered by you all, dear readers. Per your many requests, I will continue writing and posting as I feel moved to do so...you've been forewarned.

However, here is my personal compromise, which will somehow make me feel better. I am going to delete the function provided by this website which emails certain people a notice about a new post. In other words, if you're currently getting an email from my blog, you will NO LONGER receive it after today. That means that you'll have to bookmark the site and check back all on your own, adults that you are. (I'm aware that I might sacrifice a little readership, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.)

Perhaps I can try to explain. Let's pretend that the president of the U.S. (doesn't matter which one...past or present) were on the email list. And then let's pretend I decided to write a post about how I detest living in the U.S., and I think the leadership sucks, and I'm moving to Canada as soon as possible. It's feels as though I'm posting something deliberately to upset him, knowing full well that he will receive an email announcing my wish to move to Canada. Does that make any sense?

I can feel a little freer to write if I'm not 100% positive of who is reading. See? I already feel better just having made a decision.

One other thing. Those who blog know how this works already, but for the rest of you...Sometimes I'm not posting in "real time." There is a setting on this site that allows me to set a date and time for the post to publish. Sometimes I write five posts in one day, but stagger the publishing dates for those who are reading in a "blog reader" and like to have new posts more frequently. Just something to bear in mind.

Thanks for the love,
H
http://handbrosegarden.blogspot.com/

We (Might) Interrupt This Program

2010-04-09T19:00:00.001-05:00

Today is another one of those days when I give serious thought to discontinuing this blog.

Before you ask--no, it's not something you said. Or didn't say. Well, not exactly. And, no, this isn't one of those lame attempts to generate a bunch of comments just for poops and giggles. And, actually, this was written several days ago.

It's not that I'm devoid of things to say (usually), and it's not that my days are filled with disinteresting events (usually). It's that I'm so fearful of speaking my mind here. And that is not the kind of blog I want to be writing. A "weblog," most commonly used as an online diary, should be a place where the author is free to express her thoughts and feelings, without regard to her audience. I am, on a daily basis, envious of bloggers like dooce and Kage, who write with what would appear to be a lack of self-consciousness, though, of course, that word in and of itself is a misnomer in this case. Because what makes them truly successful bloggers is their vast quantity of self-conciousness--the awareness of "self." And when they write in this uninhibited way, they do so in a public, un-anonymous forum (yep, before you mention it, I'm pretty sure that isn't a word). (Oh, and their real names are Heather Armstrong and Kristy Glass.)

When I blog, I am detrimentally aware of my audience. I know exactly which family members and friends requested to get an automatically generated email announcing a new post. I know the race, religion, location, and socio-economic status of almost every one of my readers (thank you, Google Analytics and--you know--just KNOWING who my readers are). I'm aware that my husband reads and has a pretty detailed opinion about how much information I share. I'm fully aware of who will be offended, bothered, or excited by every post. I can predict, almost with one hundred percent accuracy, who will comment publicly, who will send me an email with a comment, and who never comments at all. With all this information, it is nearly impossible for me to write uninhibitedly.

I have generated two possible solutions:

1. Perhaps I need one blog for family stuff (pics and video of the Munch, etc.), and one completely anonymous blog where my family members all have pseudonyms, and I wouldn't intentionally publicize it to anyone I know. Sort of like Swistle.

or

2. I could delete everyone from the email list, and turn off the comments.

The second solution would leave me without the knowledge of who is reading and what they think, while the first solution would probably just leave me without readers. Here's the weird thing, though. I like an audience. That's no secret, really. After all, I am an actor and a teacher. If I thought no one was reading, I'd probably stop writing. And I do keep coming back to the original reason I started this blog in the first place. But I also acknowledge two things that have changed for me. One is that I read many more blogs than I did when I started writing my own. Therefore, I have a heightened awareness of what others are writing about, and that often inspires my own posts--many of which I don't end up posting because of the info in paragraph two. The other major thing that has changed is, well, my life. I have fewer creative outlets than when I was working outside the home. I have fewer adults I interact with on a daily basis. I am more in tune with politics, the blogosphere, social networking, etc. And, oh yeah, I'm now a parent. In other words, I have more to talk about.

I suppose there is a third solution: FREAKING GROW A PAIR. See now, I offended you and you, and YOU have no idea what that expression means...am I right? As Yente would say, "Of course right."

(Yeah, you're going to need to look up that reference, aren't you?)

A Note from Oliver

2010-04-08T08:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Readers,

My mom is much too sad to write this herself, so I told her I'd give her a hand. Without going into detail, I'm happy/sad to report that I am now living with another family. My parents and I think I am better suited to a home with no children. I am so sad to have to leave the folks who raised me, but my new owners seem to love me a whole lot, and are patient with my shortcomings.

Thanks for being kind to my parents during this rough time. This was an impossible decision for them, to be sure.

Love Always,

Oliver

Makeover Magic

2010-04-06T16:15:00.001-05:00

I'm not sure this really counts as a makeover, since we never intentionally staged the room the way you see it in the "before" picture, but here is the almost finished Piano Room (directly across from the kitchen):

It's still missing window treatments, some additional decorative stuff on top of the wardrobe, need to hang the picture, etc. But it's close!

Clever Monkey

2010-04-06T15:03:00.003-05:00

Yesterday the Munch and I were hanging out in the house doing boring stuff: laundry, tidying, taking out the trash, etc. I walked to the patio door (which functions as our back door, and, therefore, has a deadbolt lock on it) to dump the trash bags in the cans, simultaneously thinking, "you know, one of these days we need to hide a spare key somewhere, just in case the little man figures out how to twist that silly lock, hahaha..." Naturally, I turned around from the trash cans, headed back to the door, turned the knob, and--well, you figured this out already, didn't you. LOCKED. OUT. Of the house. With a TODDLER on the other side. FIVE MINUTES BEFORE PRECIOUS NAP TIME. Kill me.

I spent about seven minutes trying to teach him how to turn the knob ("Mommy, what's a knob?") before I figured out that my time would be better spent trying to break into my own house, to no avail. I ran (REALLY QUICKLY) around to the front, hoping against hope that someone had forgotten to lock the front door. No dice. I inspected every screen on my way back around to the ill-fated patio door, tried the knob again, and found it unlocked.

Clever monkey.

Inaugural Zoo Trip!

2010-04-02T10:49:00.002-05:00

Guess where? Not Lincoln Park, for once. Last week, The Munch and I took a much-needed trip to MI to visit Mimi, Papa and "Omi" (Auntie Naomi), and we took an almost spur of the moment trip to the Detroit Zoo.

The impatient toddler in the house is preventing me from writing much more, but here are the pics. Enjoy!

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100478

The Peace Piece

2010-03-19T22:28:00.006-05:00

Hey, readers, remember this quote, circa January 25:

"Too busy scouring the web for an entryway piece (with hooks for coats and drawers or something for shoes) with DOORS. Let it be a challenge to you."

Well, I am here to tell you that you FAILED and I WON. I WON WON WON--for now (keep reading). I found a piece from IKEA with a shelf, full-length doors, a hanging bar for coats, and enough space for shoes. If you took the house tour a few days ago, you may recall the hideous collection of coat tree/shoes in the Piano Room. This one piece not only replaces that mess, but also hides the ugly cable boxes.

The catch? The piece is white. No can do in that room. So...I spent almost two weeks sanding, painting, repainting, repainting, assembling (thank goodness for Brad), touching up, reassembling, touching up...and here it is:

Before:

After:

Border detail:

Interior:

The "for now" part, however, might be indicative of just how long this $#%& piece is actually going to last in my house, since all it takes to scratch the paint is a sideways glance. But for now...I love it.

Now, to replace those boring knobs. Anthropologie, here I come!

Parking Lot

2010-03-19T22:22:00.003-05:00

Last week, I walked in on this:

Personally, I cannot think of a better use for the mail slot.

A Girlie Rant

2010-03-13T13:27:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago The Munchkin and I were visiting some friends at their home, which is one of my our favorite activities because it means instantaneous new toys. On this particular day, he fell in love with a pink cash register that functions like a real calculator, with a "scanner," fake food, and a microphone for making announcements. I'm sure he was thinking, "Buttons? A 'phone?' Another 'phone?' All in the same toy?! Hot dog!"

Brad and I are probably responsible for purchasing about one tenth of the boy's toys, and since we hadn't shopped in a while, we made plans to head to Target to track one down. I had asked my friend if that particular cash register was manufactured in any color besides pink, and she was uncertain. Of course, I was thinking that in our increasingly progressive world, where MANY toys now come in a gender-neutral red or even purple, our odds of finding a non-pink cash register were pretty good.

We plodded through the "make believe" section, and were assaulted by PINK! EVERYWHERE! The shopping carts? Pink. Pretend stove? Pink. Pretend refrigerator, microwave, oven, dish set? Pink, pink, pink, pink. And--you guessed it--a cash register...in pink.

Transcript of my thoughts (which may or may not have actually been muttered under my breath):

"What, so only GIRLS can play with pretend food? Only GIRLS can pretend to shop for food? Only GIRLS like to pretend to cook and clean and play with toys that have zillions of doors and buttons and COOL STUFF? Only GIRLS can work in grocery stores?! ONLY GIRLS CAN PLAY WITH PINK TOYS?!?!?!"

Oh, crap.

We are now the proud owners of a pretend cash register...in pink.

Mi Casa, Su Casa

2010-03-11T14:38:00.005-06:00

Stuff's happening here in The Garden. Rugs have been ordered, painters have been interviewed, paint samples are on the walls, furniture is mid-assembly...some of which is being painted...by me. Terrifying.

So, before the house gets it's gaw-geous makeover, here's the tour. We'll call it the "before," even though the "after" will technically take years. But I'll walk you through it again when the new paint is on the walls.

Enjoy!

For the Baby Book: Word List (18 mos)

2010-03-04T14:00:00.004-06:00

This may have to be the last installment in this series. It's getting hard to keep up! I'm still trying to keep the list exclusive to the words he's actually using in context, rather than just repeating.

3/4/10: 60!

basketball

paci ("pah-SEE")
car seat ("cah-SEE")
music
mama
block

bagel

doggie

baseball

football

come on

town (as in "The wheels on the bus...through the town.")

money

crocodile ("crock crock")

teeth

his name...which is pronounced, "Sah-SEE"

(and he can say all the names of the grandparents, but still can't accurately attach each name to each person without prompting, so I'm not sure it quite counts...yet!)

1/20/10:
sock
baby
shoe
okay
water
juice
milk
waffle
oopsy daisy
bath
milk
guys
two
bus
bubbles
TV (insert sheepish grin HERE)

12/4/09:
book
again
out
down
in
cup
kitty
brush
yeah

10/30/09:
up
truck
balloon
what's that?
cracker
this
Dada
bye bye
hi
ball
fire truck
choo choo
fish
yuck
Ollie
ouch

18 Months

2010-03-04T07:00:00.001-06:00

(He does actually smile...a lot...and never for the camera.)

Weight: 27 lbs 13 oz (75th %ile--one year ago, he was in the 5th!)

Height: 33 in (75th %ile)

HC: 19 in (50th %ile)

Dear Munchkin (or can I call you, "Sa-SEE?),

I wish I could adequately describe to our readers how AWESOME you are. You have reached this remarkable age where you play so well independently, yet I find myself wanting to play with you, instead. Watching you acquire language is like being in a room filled with spontaneously igniting lightbulbs, especially since you've become such a copycat. You are tender and quick to warm to "strangers" (our friends), as they easily steal your heart by showing interest in your toys or making silly faces.

One of your favorite language-related games is pointing to pictures in your books over and over, with the insistence that we repeat the names of the objects: Elmo, The Count, Ernie, book, cupcake, balloon. And it cracks us up when The Count in your Sesame Street book finishes...er...counting, and you tag on his signature, "Ah, ah ah," at the end of the phrase. You are a lover of books: picture books, board books, even wordy Dr. Seuss books will keep you entertained. Did I mention that most of your book reading is independent? You are content to sit in your room and "read" while I shower or fold laundry in the next room. I often sneak in to find you showing pictures to your stuffed friends (lately the monkey and the blue/white doggie), and gathering them up into your lap for story time.

You've now been to your first official swimming "lesson" (or as Dada called it, "Swimming Suggestions"), where the "instructors" ("14 year old members of the local swim team") deemed you "advanced for your age." I guess most 18 month olds aren't too geeked about shoving their faces in the water to blow bubbles. Too bad for them!

You want to be best friends with Oliver, who doesn't always share your sentiments. But we love watching you grab his "baby" and play tug of war, and try to let him outside on the leash, shouting ,"Come on!" One of my favorite mornings recently was when you found Ollie's leash on the floor, and proceeded to dramatize a ten minute scene in which you attach the leash to your invisible dog and walk him around the living room, saying...well, who knows? I couldn't find my copy of Toddler to English that day.

You are obsessed with basketballs, footballs, baseballs ("BEE-baws"), or any other object that will fit through the toddler-sized basketball hoop in our basement. 85% of your Gymboree time is spent trying to collect more than one ball in your arms at a time, and dumping them in the hoop. And you tote around the strangest security objects on our outings: a block from your set (it must be the short, cylindrical one), a can of Playdoh, the pretend bottle of milk, Mama's lip stuff, the bottle of--ahem--baby powder (oh, how I live in fear of the day you learn to open these things!!!).

Even though you are the anti-cuddler, you share sweet times with me. When you were sick but woke up extra early, you snuggled into our bed and watched an entire episode of Sesame Street (which is how I knew you really weren't feeling well!), your head almost resting on my shoulder. You are the most physically attached to your Dada, rarely letting him leave your side on the weekends. You cry when he leaves the house to walk Oliver, and you shriek with delight upon his return. Ironically, given your general aversion to cuddling, you are tender and sweet toward strangers. For example, a little boy (whom you met just that day) fell down during Gymboree, so you went straight over to hug him and blow him a kiss. [insert melting heart, here]

You are as solid as a rock, little man. It's hard to remember the time we worried about your lack of weight gain. You eat like a horse, though you stick with the same thirteen foods: chicken nuggets, mini corn dogs, grapes, bananas, crackers, mac and cheese, yogurt, pasta, blueberries, cereal, waffles, bagels, and cantaloupe (note the lack of ONE. SINGLE. VEGETABLE on that list--you stinker). I can't wait to see what Dr. B has to say about your charts.

You are a light in my life, sweet boy. I wish I could take you around and show you off to every person I've ever met--but that would be weird. :o)

I love you,

Mama

March 1: Decision Day

2010-03-01T07:17:00.002-06:00

"Dear {Human Resources Personnel},

"After a thoughtful and arduous decision making process, I have decided to resign my position as General Music Teacher for District %&. It is with a heavy heart that I leave this family of educators who were instrumental in shaping my formative teaching years. I will remain eternally grateful for the support and tutelage given to me by District %& administrators and staff, and the {town} area will remain near and dear to my heart.

"I thank you personally, {HR Personnel}, for handling this matter thoroughly from the beginning of my parental leave.

"Sincerely yours,
HHR"

"Another [Closing], Another Show"

2010-02-28T21:07:00.003-06:00

(L-R: Charlie Brown, Sally, Snoopy, Lucy, Woodstock, (Munchkin), Linus, Peppermint Patty)

Oh, but I will miss this show. I will miss these wonderful, hard-working, professional, dedicated, talented, hilarious, instinctual cast members. No offense to previous casts, but I've never music directed a group before that was as prepared as this one. And, um, I've certainly never MDed a cast that sounded as good as this collective group.

TYA shows are my favorites, I've determined. Rarely in other live theatre do you hear gems from the audience like, "But Dad, I can't be quiet!" or during a song entitled, Where Did That Little Dog Go (sung rhetorically by Charlie Brown, about his dog growing up too fast), "Where did Snoopy go? Is he lost?" The world of theatre through the eyes of a child is a special, special thing.

Farewell, fellow Snoopers. See you in the next show--wherever that may be.