Thirty Eight Years and Nine Months

This month you get a two-fer! Today Mark turns 38 and Anya turns nine months… kinda. She actually turns nine months on the 29th but we’re not having one of those this month, so I’m smashing them together. Hey, I’m on vacation, give me a break!

Dear Anya and Mark,
There is something so final for me about a baby turning nine months. Somehow I got the idea that a baby spending as much time topside as they did in utero means that they’re here to stay. I always take a big breath on this day and squeeze the baby in question, grateful that this amazing child is in my life and looking forward to the rest of their lives, stretched out in front of them like a stunningly vibrant ribbon. And Anya, you are so stunning and so vibrant that I often catch my breath and stuff a fist in my mouth to stop myself from sobbing at your perfect smile. I am overwhelmed by you. I sit and watch the intricate dance of play you share with Lily and feel like I have created a perfect complement to my big girl. You two are so in love with each other and I hope, even when you’re fighting over the petty, dramatic or deadly serious you always remember how deeply you are connected.

And Mark, I couldn’t have known what I would find when I first said yes to your touch. I thought I was just getting a boyfriend and instead I have gotten this amazing coconspirator. Not only are you my best friend but you are the most loving and involved father I could have ever hoped to have for my children. I watch you with the girls and feel like I hit the jackpot. Without you this job would be so much harder and not nearly as much fun. Without you by my side, the winding path of my life would be full of brambles and unexpected holes. Walking the path together I have the fortune of your gentle touch, steering me around the pitfalls or the warmth of your hand as we cross the river together. You make me a sappy, silly person and I can’t stop myself from giggling when I think of all the stories you have brought into my life. You are adventures and funny and you take on the world with such a steady gaze; I never fear the fleabag hotels (Mexico), the unintended homosexual advances (Alaska), your calm in the face of machine gun toting boys (Soccoro Island), or the grumpy passengers on an overcrowded airplane (Canada and this trip). You are the family I have chosen and together we have filled out our clan with two of the most amazing children that there ever were. Thank you.

I can’t imagine my life without either of you or Lily. You people make life Technicolor.

Happy Birthday, Mark. And nine months of life with you, Anya… priceless and astonishing.

Smooches on your heads,
The woman you both call “Love”

Vacationing with my family ROCKS

This morning we got up, had a bite to eat and then sat around waiting for the ducks. The hotel we’re staying in has this cool little tradition where every morning at 11am they roll out a red carpet and about half a dozen ducks make a grand entrance, race along the path at breakneck speed, up a set of red carpeted stairs and throw themselves into a fountain in the middle of the lobby where they attack a platter full of duck food. The people all clap and take pictures and the kids think it’s the best show on earth. Rocking free entertainment, yo.

After all that excitement, we took a walk over to the mall and had Starbucks to warm up after Lily enjoyed the mall fountain just a little too closely. From there we walked a little more while figuring out what to do with the remaining days Mark has off. Tomorrow (Mark’s Birthday) we’re going to try to go check out the Kennedy Space Center and the day after that we’re going to take it easy while romping around Wonderworks, this odd up-side-down building thing with crazy science experiments and stuff. I donno, it looked cool.

This afternoon we hit up Sea World where Lily was bored by the Sea Lion and Otter show and enthralled by the dog and cat show. She also was appropriately awed by the sharks. Now Lily and Mark are getting some dinner while Anya and I hang out in the room so she can cry and throw herself around angrily. Not sure what the deal is, but she’s been so good up ‘till now, I’m just letting her have her moment.

Overall this vacation is making me giddy with glee. Keep your fingers crossed that it’ll keep on keeping on.

Finally got my husband back

Friday night Mark went to work at about six pm and didn’t get back in until after midnight. He had to be back in the hotel ballroom by eight am Saturday and 15 hours later he stumbled into bed. Then he had to be back again at eight am Sunday. By the time Krystyn, the kids and I made it back from the Science Center around four pm, he was dressed, somewhat rested and ready for dinner. I get to keep him until Thursday morning when he goes back in to load out the show, a task that should only take six hours (fingers crossed, yo). At one point in the middle of all this he said, “Now do you see what it’s like for me when I’m out of town?” He must have known that I had images of him living it up and eating in restaurants while I wrangled two cranky kids all by myself. Not so much. Poor guy. I also see why he is feeling so motivated to get out of the business. He had a laundry list of stuff that went wrong and how he had to get increasingly more creative to solve each issue. His ingenuity is hot, btw; but most likely only to me.

As for Krystyn and the kids; we had a BLAST. I’d have pictures to show you but it turns out my camera cable got left at home. All the fabulous photos are trapped in the camera, screaming to be let loose and I have no way to accomplish that. You’ll have to wait. But I will report that Krystyn is just a fun and fabulous and adorable as you thought she was. And her boys are funny, charming, smart, sweet and the kind of kids you just hope grow up and marry your daughters. Lily and Krystyn’s youngest ran around hand in hand the whole time, Lily totally smitten and he tolerating it with style. She adored them, deeply, passionately… to the extent that while she sat on the potty she looked up at me with her big brown eyes and said, “I wanna see my friends now.” So cute.

We can’t wait to see them again later in the week.

Greetings from Theme-land

For those of you who don’t know, we all got up Thursday morning at 4am to catch our flight, only to sit on the tarmac for two hours until they finally gave up on the “navigation” problem and cancelled our flight. We managed to catch an uncrowded flight to Phoenix but had a heck of a time getting a flight to Orlando. Settling for three single seats, we finally managed to get seats together thanks to two very awesome people who gave up their seats in exchange for free booze.

The girls were AMAZING. Anya slept through both flights, clinging to me like a monkey and nursing whenever her ears gave her trouble. I had gathered an arsenal of distractions for Lily and they worked like a charm. She had one small melt down at the end of our last flight, dropping off to sleep about five minutes before we started our descent into Orlando. As everyone filed off the plane they passed by complimenting our perfect children. I think we’ll be keeping them (the children, not those who complemented them).

We picked up our rental car and headed into town, grabbing dinner and then finding our hotel. They had overbooked but the client (remember, this is a work trip for Mark) had let us know in advance so we drove straight there and slept for ten hours straight. Anya only woke to nurse and only a couple of times. It was glorious.

Now we’re in the hotel we’ll be in until we go stay with Krystyn and glory be, it has free high speed wireless internet. It also has a bed I can push up against the wall so no little girls fall out. Nice. And a minibar we can’t afford to even open up. OH, and soap shaped like a duck. How’s that for fancy?

Mark works at 5pm tonight and the girls and I will probably wander around and check out the hotel, finding some dinner and then return to the room to jump on the beds. Tomorrow we get to meet up with Krystyn and her family for a bit. Despite the rocky start, things have been going really well and the kids are freaking awesome. Wish us luck for continued excellence.

Adventures in traveling

Ten days, four people, three bags... that's just crazy talk

There are piles of clothes everywhere: some fresh from the laundry, other hauled out of drawers, small ones, little ones, ones that climb on rocks. The laundry is still rolling, thankfully there is an end to that in site. On my dining room table sits a small stack of keys, notes, checks, my camera and its cable, random bits of paper, lists, a painting Lily and I made, Lily’s teapot… let’s just say it’s a mess. Most of the clothing Mark and I are bringing is packed into a single duffle bag while the girl’s piles have not yet begun to take shape. Mark has spent most of the morning looking over drawings and set plans so that the load-in can go a smoothly as possible. I scrambled eggs and soyrizo together for lunch, heating tortillas and beans to complement and shoving a plate in Mark’s hands as he entertained the crabby baby. Lil is off at Grandma’s house, a gift I am so very grateful for at this moment.

There is still so much to do.

So what am I doing? You’re looking at it.
What’s Mark doing? Just look at this:



He’s going to be so THRILLED I shared that with y’all.

But we have a 6:30 flight which means we need to be at the airport at about 5:00 which means we have to be up around 4:00am (yep, ANTE meridiem… as in way too freaking early to do anything reasonable or legal), so I’m feeling a little crazy and a little vindictive and just a little like y’all better stay out of my way. And holy crap, I just said “y’all” twice and I am NOT from the south.

Sigh.

Must go face the piles of toddler and baby clothes.

Must not start sobbing uncontrollably.

IT’S VACATION, DAMMIT!

Travel plans

We’re getting ready to take off on a 10 day vacation. Mark has a gig in Florida and since one my fellow Mama Says Om mamas lives in that sunny state, the girls and I will be tagging along. While I enjoy being on vacation, getting ready for one makes me crazy. I hate packing, always convinced I’m missing some vital element without which our good times will be thwarted. Mark has to remind me repeatedly that they have stores where we’re going, all will not be lost if I fail to remember underarm deodorant (adding to my list of things to pack). I hate the stress of traveling by air, worrying endlessly of missed connections, overzealous security checks and my girls deciding to melt down on a crowded plane. I’ve never flown with both of them before; unless you count the flight Lily and I took when I was three months pregnant with Anya. Even though I have a wonderful friend who is a super genius pet-sitter, I also worry about my dog, cat, plants and the house (more or less in that order).

But mostly, I make lists. Endless lists detailing every last thing I can think to bring or do before we go. Today I need to return an audio book to the library, pick up cat food, and make a run to the toy store to find a few special items for Lily to obsess over on the plane. I am considering stopping off at a drug store to get some sort of cold medicine for the kids that will hopefully have the effect of knocking them out and keeping the runny noses from being too horrific for the duration of the flight. I’m not one to drug my kids, so I’m struggling with this decision, not sure which way to go. Anya is a bit too young for any of that stuff really, so it’s mostly about Lil.

So, yeah. I’m a little crazy today. I’m trying very hard not to snap at my kids or curl up in a corner with my hands pressed to my ears as though they could possibly hold off the world.

How do you travel with kids? What tricks help you make it through a cross country flight? Seriously, I’m open to suggestion.

20 Things

I used to have this reoccurring nightmare where I’d be driving up a hill and it would get so steep the car would eventually tip over backwards sending us ass over teakettle down the hill. I actually saw it happen once on TV and I haven’t had the nightmare since. The last thing I have to do before I fall asleep is make a bathroom run. If I lay awake too long, I have to get up and pee. This makes it hard to go camping. When I was little, my dad was so paranoid about a house fire that he’d make us do late night fire drills. When I told this to an old boyfriend, he said, “You are such a white girl.” I still don’t know what that means and it’s probably a big part of the reason I left him. I have a noise discrimination hearing disorder, but it’s never been properly diagnosed. Therefore, I often like to pretend it doesn’t exist. My mother and I share a name. Lily and I do too. I miss my brother. I was so angry when I was a teenager that I treated my mom like shit. I finally apologized to her last week. I have a birthmark on my belly that has absolutely no pigment. It looks really cool when I have a tan. I haven’t had a tan on my belly for over ten years. I am terrified of bees. When it’s sunny out, I cannot drive without sunglasses. When I was about six years old, some guy exposed himself to me. I didn’t have a clue what he was up to and it wasn’t until I was a teen that I figured it out. And no, I don’t feel emotionally scarred. I’m not a fan of white walls. Space deserves color; I just don’t have the patience to paint them myself. I haven’t shaved my legs in months and I’m trying to decide if I should bother ever doing it again. I am incredibly self conscious about my body. I don’t want my daughters to be self conscious about their own bodies. I love comfortable shoes and refuse to wear heals. I absolutely adore hats of all kinds. I don’t wear hats of any kind. In high school I fell in love with criminals. In college I was all about actors. In my late 20’s I fell in love with two little girls. Now that I’m 30, I’m starting to learn how to fall in love with myself.

Random Saturday

Time to get caught up on some of the crazy stuff of the past week I haven’t had time to blog.

• Wednesday we went to go check out the new sculpture at the Museum of Modern Art. I had heard about it on public radio that morning and since we didn’t have any plans for the day, we stopped by. Turns out it’s closed on Wednesday’s, but you can see the sculpture garden from the street near the beach. It’s an amazing piece of engineering but it didn’t move me emotionally; still a wild thing to behold. Just down the street is a little piece of beach that has become a big controversy. It’s called the Children’s Pool, but it’s not a place a kid could play. One reason is a lack of thought in architecture: the man made break that curves around the inlet doesn’t allow the cove to wash out well, therefore it becomes very polluted. This issue is compounded by the second reason: seals have moved in and have no interest in leaving. Some local citizens what them out and are willing to pay big bucks to make it happen. Others believe that if the seals want the beach, it was their’s before it was ours, so have at! It’s become a spot for birthing, mating, playing and tourists crowd around the sea wall to get a glimpse. As a Wannabe Hippie, you can guess where my loyalties lie.

• Lily keeps stealing my camera and dropping it or trying to make it grow by spraying it with the hose. I decided to make her one with which she could do whatever she pleases. It’s spiffy. The only problem is that when the clay dried, it pulled at the contact points and cracked it. She loves it, so what do I care?

• Why we're thrilled our neighbors are getting evicted:
  
  
  
  Anyone who would leave their dog outside with a slip knot nylon rope as a leash and shake their fist at the poor thing when it barks too much deserves to get their ass thrown out on the street. ‘Nuff said.

• Today we went to the zoo. There was a Dr. Zoolittle show where they talked about eating bugs. They even got volunteers up to eat them and we all laughed when a toddler shoved it into her mouth the second it was placed in her hand. Lily saw what was going on and immediately started to cry that she was hungry.
  “It’s a bug, Lily.”
  “Want some!”
  And then Dr. Zoolittle said, “Thanks for joining us today, if you’d like to try a bug, come on up!” And Lily went running.
  So she got one.
  And she ate it.
  And when I asked her how it was she said, “MORE!”
  
  One heck of a day.

The muse, she can be one heck of a bitch

When I was a little girl I'd crawl under the covers at night with a stolen flashlight and a library book to read quickly and hungrily, hoping against hope that I wouldn't be discovered. My brother, asleep in the bed across the room was all about music, but I was all words. My parents must have known what I was up to, but they turned a blind eye to my little habit, fostering in me a love for books and stories and the landscape of fiction as it played across my impressionable mind. I devoured books through High School, becoming the Editor in Chief of the monthly school newspaper and living words, layout and action shots. In college I stalked the halls of the Humanities building, reading everything I could find, sitting through lectures on poetry, short story, long fictions, art. I learned so much, it suffocated me a little bit. When I finally graduated with a degree in Creative Writing and a minor in Women's Studies I was so thick with thought and literary rules I couldn't read anything serious for years. And I couldn't write at all. I still managed to read, but it was magazines, popular fluff novels, the occasional short story; nothing that inspired my inner artist; she was just too tired, too slammed by the responsibility of writing well.

Now that I have children, the time I have to read is even more limited. I've been struggling through Wicked reading only a few pages at a time, caught up in the story but continuously interrupted by my nursling who is wild with discomfort now that her teeth are coming in, or distracted by my toddler as she turns summersaults in the hallways. In some ways, I am still on a reading diet: small sips and tiny bites. But lately, I am gluttonous for more. I want to loose myself in the Time Traveler's journey or sink into the life of those suitors of the Little Chinese Seamstress or even run wild on the mountains that Prodigal Summer.

And I'm getting my fill. My secret is simple (and I'm happy to share!): my local library and audio books. These days, I listen in the car while we go from here to there or while sitting in a shady spot, both girls asleep in their seats. I itch to go anywhere, just so I can be taken across the sea or learn more about why American needs a major overhaul. I am falling in love with Barbara Kingsolver and am intently studying her voice: fluid and gentle and like someone I would love to sit and talk to while we work a garden plot. I am finding that there is so much more I need to know and am once again hungry to swallow the words that fill me with action, hope and passion. I am writing again, tenderly getting my feet wet here and on Mama Says Om. I am not creating more than I did in college, but what I am creating is infinitely more interesting and speaks to my own heart.

It's a lot like falling in love again. I just have to hope we never suffer another lover's spat.

MELA says...

Mark: 1am trips to comfort Lily
Elaine: Sore throat
Lily: Gross stuff in the potty
Anya: Evil teeth from hell
All: NO SLEEP FOR THE WEARY

Just waiting until the world looks like this again:

Parenting is like that

After this tirade on the evils of teeth (and a new poop story, this one not so cute), Anya gave me an early Valentine’s present and slept for six hours straight. And here’s the kicker: she did it while I was also sleeping. Of course, I was woken by Lily crying for Daddy about half way through that six hours, but hey at least the baby slept! Weeee!

Now she’s got the teething snots and drooling freak show we all know and love, so my bets are that the evil and decidedly British teeth will make an appearance with in the next few day. Anyone wanna place a wager as to when exactly?

We Kiss

We kiss kiss kiss
in this family
holding each others hearts
and hands
and wetly
loudly
passionately
showing our love for each
and every one of the people
that form our happy mess

We kiss at transitions
We kiss as a welcome
We kiss as we play
We kiss to heal a tiny owie
We kiss kiss kiss
because we can’t help but love
these crazy people we call
family

written for Mommybloggers Valentine's Day Rumble

Teeth are evil AND a brand new poop story!

Anya hasn’t slept for more than an hour for three freaking days. Seriously. SERIOUSLY! She has spent the last handful of nights crying out, arching her back, wiggling and crying loudly (something she never does, btw) all night long. She’ll even sit up, spit out the binky, yell at me until I insert said binky into screaming maw, and then fall over comically, dead asleep. I say comically, but I’m afraid I’m not actually chuckling here. I’m too tired to even snort.

You know who I have to blame?

TEETH!

The two top front ones are messing with her. “HI! Can we come out and look around?” they seem to ask cheerfully (and for some reason, I imagine them speaking in a British accent). “Oh, hold on chap, I’ve forgotten my handbag!” and then they go gallivanting around in the gums for a bit. “Here it is! Now shall we go out?” “Sure thing, mate! Just let me fetch my coat!” I keep finding them right at the edge of the gum and then POOF they retreat. GAH!

So yeah, she’s miserable and I’m exhausted.

This morning, I stumbled upstairs with Anya in hand and, with my face still all smooshed from half sleep, shoved a wiggling baby into his arms. He’s been sleeping with Lily, so he’s getting more sleep on average than little ol’ me. He dutifully accepted that he’d get a late start for working today and let me go back to bed for about and hour and a half of rest. He’s so good to me that when the following occurred he didn’t even come wake me up. Want to know what happened? It’s really good. Seriously!

So he’s sitting on the toilet, like he does every morning, when he shifts his weight and his cell phone falls out of his hoodie pocket, slips through his legs and lands in the poop filled toilet. HUZZAH! He now knows that he will reach into a toilet full of crap for a cell phone. He also knows that it was a good idea to pay for the insurance that will replace your phone for $50 if you do something that stupid. Because let’s face it, even if it does work again, would you want to talk into it?

Classical or Rock n Roll?

Sleep walking

Last night after Lily had gone to bed I heard crying and headed over to her room to investigate. Through the glass I saw her standing in the bathroom near her potty and as I came through the door she started screaming as though, instead of her mother, a horrid beast bent on eating her was coming in. I had been going on the assumption that she "missed" the potty and was deeply unhappy about that fact until I saw the abject terror in her eyes. Scooping her up in my arms I noticed she was completely dry and after softly whispering her name in her ear a couple of times I saw a look of recognition pass over her eyes and she calmed down.

"What happened?" I asked.
She popped her thumb in her mouth and reached for my ear. I waited for her to answer but she just couldn't. She seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn't get a grasp on the whole thing. I helped her get onto the potty and waited for her body to relax enough to pee. By the time she was done I was pretty sure I knew what happened.

"You woke up and you were standing in the bathroom."
"Yeah."
"And you got scared because you weren't in your bed and you didn't know where you were right away."
Nodding now, big wide eyes.
"And then the door opened and you didn't know it was Mommy."
"I cry."
"Yep. But you're OK now. Mommy is here and you're safe and you even got to go potty." I saw that last bit like it's a special treat... hey, I'm tired too.
"Yeah." She sucked her thumb some more and twiddled my ear lazily. I carried her back to bed. "I happy now" she informs me. I only wish I could get over stuff as quickly.
"You are?"
Another nod, this time with sleepy eyes. Within a few moments she was back in the land of nod.

Mark slept in her room that night, just in case she had any other unscheduled trips. My hope is that it doesn't happen again, although right now I am listening to her chatter in her room. She went to bed over an hour ago, so who knows if what I'm hearing is sleep talking or if she's still awake. She got a very late nap today, so it could easily be that later. Keep your fingers are crossed that this doesn't become a nightly event. I'm all for drama, I just prefer the type performed on stage.

Self Portrait Tuesday -- All of Me # 1

Wrapped around my daughter’s sippy cup as I clean up after a day of girls running wild and a steadily growing mess I will never gain control over, I can’t help but consider my hands as I carry things too and from the kitchen. I sucked my thumb until I was seven years old and when I finally quit, I transferred this urgent need for a habit to my fingernails. I have picked, bit and destroyed them for 23 years. There was a brief respite when I returned home from a semester in England. I just didn’t need to do that anymore; that is, until next semesters finals when I gave in to the nervous habit that always hits hard when I am under stress.

And yet, I have always tried to honor this part of me, accepting that it is a weakness that I have not yet overcome. When Mark and I married, we did a hand ceremony, clasping hands and acknowledging what our hands would do for each other through the years of our marriage. Recognizing them for the care they would give, the fights they would emphasize, the babies they would cradle. No matter how much I hate the habit, I have to love the hands. No matter how ugly, they are part of me. And they have always kept me solidly on the ground, feet planted in the muddy soil. I’d never try to be who I’m not with these hands dangling at the end of my arms.

Sometimes I try to hide them or avoid catching the nails in a photo; it’s not always easy to stare a failure straight on. But for the most part, I have come to love my hands and see them as a part of me I cannot deny. I am, after all, not so very perfect. And that’s ok with me.


You can find other self portrait bloggers here.

Swing/Clap/Play

Don't bother to adjust your volume, there isn't any!

Random Saturday

Me: What are you doing? Did you turn up the heat?
Mark: Yeah, it’s cold in here.
Me: So in the house, you’re too hot and want all the doors open but in the car, it’s too cold?
Mark: Yeah.
Me: You are such a girl.


Giving thanks that there are no bunnies in my hair conditioner. You really do have to check labels, I guess. Of course, it mentions nothing about rocket ships, or buffalo wings.


"This is Saturn. See the beautiful rings? They are so spicy and delicious. I love buffalo rings."


We went hiking today in an area that recently suffered fires. Sometimes I forget that we live in a desert, but the landscape today was a welcome reminder. We saw a pair of coyote sisters hunting on one of the ridgelines and watched transfixed as they leapt about and caught some dinner (at least I hope they caught some!). We were surprised by dozens of caterpillars as they raced across trails and roads, heading who knows where. I had no idea they could move so fast! Lily was simultaneously frightened and fascinated by a bridge. It was a nice hike. Click on the photo to see a couple shots from our local desert.

Today...

...Lily taught Anya how to clap.

It is the cutest thing in the whole wide world.

End of story.