A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Potty...

hello...helooooo....helllllooooooo!!!!????

2007-08-30T17:42:00.000-07:00

is anybody out there?

probably at some point any of my loyal readers were asking this question since i dropped off the blogosphere sometime in oh, may was it? pre-move? yeah, that would be it.

the move sent us for a loop, my cyber time dwindled. I paid about $50 to Netflix for _Inconvenient Truth_ as is gathered dust, never peeking my interest or winning viewing time. I never did watch it.

Anyhoo, with a physical move, a new blog seems in order, so friends, do move with me to:
www.homeontheridge.blogspot.com.

This newer! better! faster! easier! blog will focus mainly on happenings up on the Ridge, our efforts to grow food, keep animals (and eat some of them), create art, run wild with the kids, and in all other ways revel in the country. I'm planning to post lots of photos to record and share the developments on the land and of course, there will always be amusing stories about Raelin and Liam to keep you howling.

so, come on over....

The Fairies

2007-04-28T17:52:00.000-07:00

So i don't know if most kids attach to some kind of Lovey object. I don't think i did. I was the kind of kid who felt guilty if i left one of my stuffed animals off my bed at night, so i would often go to bed, piled high with bears and whales (i liked them) and whatnot. I have kept one white bear that has been added to Raelin's significant pile, but i can't say that it's a lovey per se...

And, i'm not sure if Raelin's Fairies are her Lovies either... I mean, can 2 pint-size natty fairies be that are always crying and sick be considered Lovies? I thought the purpose of a Lovey was to provide comfort. In this case, we're the ones who are providing the comfort. These Fairies cry *all the time*. For example:

I will be innocently making tea. Enter Raelin.

Kelly (hear: Telly), can you hear my Fairy crying?
No, Raelin, I can't hear your Fairy crying.
You can't?
No, I can't.
Well, here, listen. (she thrusts her small, round pink-striped Fairy in my face) NOW can you hear her crying?
Well, ok, yes i can.
Is she screaming?
I don't think so.
Yes she is. She's screaming very loud.
Ok, she's screaming very loud.
Or is she whimpering?
No, i think she's screaming.
Will she ever stop?
I don't know, what will make her feel better?
Nothing, nothing will make her feel better.
Really? never ever?
Never ever. She will always be crying and screaming.
Ok then... so... do you need a snack?

This conversation happens in various forms about, oh, 20 times a day. at least.

This whole Fairy thing happened very... organically. Subtly. I think the pink-striped round fairy with antennae was actually a Christmas ornament. Kevin's mom bought her one year when they were visiting in December. Whether she is truly an ornament or not, i'm not sure. The hanging ribbon is long gone. But she fits in the palm of your hand, is all soft, and has a little rattle inside. And since Raelin more or less carries her around all day, you always know where she is because you hear the rattle-rattle of Round Fairy. Then there's another one. She's a small finger puppet, with stringy yarn hair and a rather rectangular, frankly masculine-shaped face. Striped legs... kind of a cross between Tinker-bell, the Wicked Witch of the West and what's-his-name from the Sopranos.

Quite a thing for a 3 year old's Lovey, huh?

Anyway, she rescued the Round Fairy from the tree (her terms)- saying something to the effect of, "she'll never be on the tree again." Tinker-Witch-Mafia Fairy materialized shortly after, and the 3 of them have been inseparable. And woe-is Liam if he hazards a grab at the Fairies!! Occasionally she'll leave them in a place he can reach when she goes to school and you should see the grin on his face when he grabs one of them- Score!!! The Forbidden Fairies! He laughs, maniacally.

I find the Fairies tucked into my bed, side by side, covers pulled up tight under their chins. They're wrapped in silks and blankets and carefully laid on top of the cubbies, or on the sink counter for tub-time. In months, a day has not gone by that those Fairies have not been along for the ride, pretty much every minute. She asks for them if they are left behind on outings (those kid will look at my Fairies!!), and searches for them first thing in the morning. We leave her sound asleep in bed every night, the Fairies held loosely in her limp hands, or curled neatly under her chin. It's pretty precious.

The strange thing about them is their attitude. Like i said, they are always either crying, or sick. (Or so it's reported to us.) We do endless puppet shows (aka acting out stories with her many and varied stuffed animals) about the Fairies being sick and needing to be doctored, being sick and never getting better, crying and not stopping, and variation upon variation.

Believe me, i have tried to break the cycle. I tell stories where other animals come and cheer them up. She intervenes. I tell stories where the Lamb Doctor and Gibbon Surgeon miraculously cure the Fairies of their Woes. She informs me that that could never happen, they will always be sick. I tell stories where Elephant and Purple Bear tell the Fairies flat out that they are boring and will not play with them. This occasionally brings the Fairies around for a time, but then they revert back to being sick and crying.

is our kid whacko, or what? Lol....

Honestly, Kevmo and i wondered if perhaps there was some underlying psychological issue. Why are they always crying? what's with being sick all the time?
But we've given up on that theory.

Likely it's because she's rebelling against our constant efforts to cheer up and make the Fairies healthy. Ahhhh... the beauty of parent-child relations!

I'll be sad when the Fairies are laid to rest. True, they can be annoying and I live in mild fear that they will be Lost Never to be Found, and then we'll really have some crying around here. But like some of Raelin's toddler clothes that i handed down the other day... the worn cords with embroidered flowers that she wore almost daily... they're the symbols of a Time. I often pooh-pooh the whole saving-toys thing, but the Fairies, I will keep. I will tuck them into a nice box, wrapped in a playsilk where they can keep each other company (whimpering, of course).

2007-04-27T16:43:00.000-07:00

Check out this amazing work by Teresa Agnew

wow....

working gal

2007-04-24T18:17:00.000-07:00

well, i'm going to be a working woman again. part time. very, part time. 2 shifts to be exact, a Tuesday night and a Saturday night, a combination of waiting tables and bartending. Yeah, me- bartending!

This all started last summer when my friend A told me she had started working at a restaurant 2 nights a week and was making great money. Unlike my only previous waiting experience, this restaurant is bonified- as in real people go to get good food and they pay good money for it and leave some for you. I thought to myself, 'self, you need to do that next summer.' And i sealed the deal on Sunday. The bartending part is particularly exciting. I'm not a big drinker or anything, but for some reason, it just seems like one of those life experiences that you shouldn't pass up if you have the chance. I did in fact, almost forgo the whole working thing having convinced myself that we really do have too much going on (moving in about 6 weeks, needing to do house work there, etc...) and in fact, adjusting to a schedule where i am depended upon by other people besides just the kids seemed a bit much. But then A told me they were looking for a bartender and, well, i couldn't pass that up.

So, we shall see. I was in fact supposed to start last night, but Liam and I have a nasty cold that neither of us is shaking very easily. Took the little chub to a regular doc yesterday and our homeopath today. He seems to be doing better today, but yesterday was more or less inconsolable for 3-4 hours. of course, as soon as we got to the doctor's office he was all bright blue eyes and flushed cheeks and happy-go-lucky crawling and exploring the office and hallway. Why do they do that?

Honestly Doctor, he was puking an hour ago and would not stop crying.

Thankfully, he believed me and gave me the wise counsel to give Liam some children's tylenol before bed and again in the middle of the night to help him (and therefore me) sleep. and it did. There's got to be some narcotic in that stuff... it works waaaaaay too well to just be a 'fever reliever.' But no complaints here. Tylenol is my friend today. A well rested child is a well rested Mommy, and well rested Mommies make the world go round....

2007-04-14T17:41:00.000-07:00

so, we have snow. it's mid april.
'nuff said.

things are rolling along here. Our house is under contract- we even met the real live buyers today! Kevmo actually spent the morning with them and the building inspector so they were not mere apparitions. Seems that things went well. Next step is to scheudule our building inspection for up in Appleton, get a builder to give us an estimate on making a dormer on the upstairs bedroom (the one bedroom we will all share as a happy family. even more happily if there's some head room), and maybe a new roof. The maybe being whether we hire someone to do it, or we do it, but it's gotta be done.

so, wow. yeah. moving to apple-town!
it's hard to believe that it is really going to happen, in many ways. or that we've been planning this for nearly a year. i'm getting excited... and a bit nervous, i do admit. apple-town is kinda out there. last week i went to visit the apple-town school with a friend who is considering buying the other chunk of land that our friends are selling. another mom tagged along as well. she and her family are also house hunting.

i left with the certain feeling that we will be homeschooling.
this is a decision i've been hemming and hawing about for awhile, not feeling too pressured to make a decision one way or another as long as Raelin is happy at Ashwood, which she is, and if we wanted to, she could go another year of preschool and then 2 years of kindergarten, buying 3 years before commiting to some program or other. plenty of time to work out the whole school business.

but being in the appleton school really zeroed in on what needs to happen. we gotta do it ourselves.

it's not a crappy school. true, it's small and there's only one class per grade. the principal who has been there 3 years now said it was a nightmare when he first arrived. from his side of the story, he's done and is doing a lot there and i am sure the kids are benefitting tremendously from his efforts and care. but i can't send my kids there, to sit in little desks in rows or groups, in circles or in squares, for 6 hours a day. even if there is a new beautiful playground with money raised by the town, or a sledding party for the honor roll kids. And truthfully, if i was going to continue teaching, it would be a neat place to work because it is small and therefore one teacher can have a great impact.

i would probably have come to the same conclusion regardless of what school i visited. i mean, big or small, schools are schools. they're in the business of 'schooling' and using some smoke and mirrors they pass it off as learning, and sure, some 'learning' does occur, but the more i read and talk with other moms who are not subjecting their kids to schooling, and i observe my Raelin dancing in the aisles of the Taiko drumming concert, or creating elaborate puppet shows with original songs (I'm a little bunny..hopping through the woods...hoppin' all around my great big 'hood), i think - she will be crushed there.

it's a bit hard to explain to others why you are choosing homeschooling without sounding like a snob, or implying that they are doing great harm to *their* kids by sending them to school. Seems like the best and most benign answer is, "it's what works best for our kids." We've made some careful and conscious decisions to be where we are in our lives, and homeschooling is just another one of those decisions. i know that not everyone can make that decision or wants to, so i do support public schools is that for now, in our society as it is, they are a necessity. So hopefully there will be a way we can support the school as members of the community. It is a small one, so we wont go unnoticed as home unschoolers... (more on unschooling later...) but i know there are a bunch of other homeschoolers around, so we won't stick out too much.

in other news- Liam is walking about 15% of the time. crawling is far more efficient. he also is putting away hamburgers and had a small meltdown when i cut him off the Cheddar Bunnies the other day. he's growing up too fast, that one....

(those who are familiar with how i fed raelin at this age may be aghast at the fact that Liam even got to *see* a cheddar bunny, much less eat one. Life is so much less complicated the second time around...)

2007-03-15T18:08:00.000-07:00

So i was just browsing through our local paper and noticed that one of the local school districts was discussing the addition of yoga to the physical education curriculum for 4th and 7th graders. A move- i might add- that has been done in schools throughout the country. Apparently, there was a heated discussion at this board meeting because some parents do not agree with teaching a practice (well, they did not use that term) that has Eastern origins.

huh?

Some quotes from the article:

"The yoga proposals...drew parents to the the Bus Barn... for a lenthy talk about the suitability (italics mine) of yoga in public schools."

" ' Several parents expressed concerns about the proposals... Their major concerns were that yoga is historically based in Eastern religions and they felt it was counter to their beliefs to have students doing yoga in the school."

(beliefs about no religion in schools? no eastern religions in school? no hippie-liberal-vegan-crazie things in schools? no activities that will actually benefit their children in schools?)

but apparently..

"In general, the parents and board members who were in attendance favored the idea of physical movement and relaxation for our students.'"

oh, well, ok then.

however,

".. a motion was made to suport the yoga programs if the term 'yoga' were removed from the description, if parents were notified about the program, and if alternatives were available for students whose parents did not want them participating...."

I see. So, let me get this straight. As long as you don't use that funny non-English word to describe what they're doing, they can pose like a Cobra (on second thought, maybe we should call it a Garter Snake pose...then the kids will be able to relate), Pigeon, or Warrior (Sniper Pose, anyone?).

Maybe it will backfire, and yoga will become the new clandestine activity. Preteens will sneak out of their bedroom windows at night to meet at Haili's house, who's hippie dad will look the other way while they do Sun Salutations in the barn. Smug parents will believe their good red-white-and blue blood kids are getting buff from tossing the ball in spring Little League, when really, ol' Junior is able to hold Crocodile pose with his belly off the floor for longer than any other 4th and 7th grader at school. Namaste will be whispered after the morning flag salute, and asthmatics will breathe deeply for the first time in years.

Yeah, challenging yoga in schools, that could be a good thing.

2007-03-09T18:22:00.000-08:00

it's been a long time since i've been around the ole' pottyparty neighborhood. in fact, i've been quite far away; we took ourselves a little trip out west and frolicked around the old neighborhoods of Santa Cruz and Santa Barbara and came home by way of Vail (which, i highly recommend) and now i am finally over my traveling hangover and finding my way back here.

it's occured to me that i lack regularity in my life- ok, *sometimes* in the potty-way, but mostly in the way of being consistent. i can't take a daily vitamin for more than 3 days consecutively to save my life. getting my hair cut takes somewhere on the order of 7 or 8 months. exercise used to be one of my more regular pursuits, and now its a luxary i covet desperately.
this lack of regularity, or consistency has never really been an issue until i had children and my life became complicated and different. when you only have to look out for yourself, its much, much easier to keep up with things. being busy makes people either hyper-consistent so they dont forget anything, or hyper-scatterbrained and unable to attend to much other than necessities. Seeing myself fall into the latter category, i have began awhile back to see what i was going to lose, principally- some relationships. so, i have set up with 2 of my best friends regular monthly phone calls on dates that are easy to remember.

it's fabulous.

i no longer have to put "try to call bartlebee" on my To Do list, and stewing about why she hasn't called me is no longer a layer of my stress. Same with my other friend.

I think this blog is going to become my next regularly scheduled program. and in short order, i will have 2 blogs, as i plan to start a new one focusing on our move up to Appleton which is officially going to happen, not just because we say so, but because someone is offering us real money for our house! yup- news just in, numbers headed our way on monday. pray for a spendthrift kind of offer....

someone once told me that Organization is Freedom. i agreed wholeheartedly at the time and would muse upon it every once in awhile and organize some corner of my life and then promptly fall back into bondage within a week. but, i'm ready to try once again to try and break free of the chains and add a bit more regularity and organization, bit by bit to my life. Course, it took me 24 hours to post this since Liam woke up mid-post last night and i am only just getting back to it, but a job finished is a job finished.

2007-02-09T15:53:00.000-08:00

i figured i would blog a bit while i wait for this week's episode of Grey's Anatomy to download.

Yes, Hello, my name is Kelly, and i am a total GA addict. I confess to not only counting down the days between episodes, but reading the writer's blog.

Ok! fine! *and* i chat with others about the episodes on a thread on my mommy-boards.

happy?

But this is not what i came to blog.

I had a nice laugh-out-loud moment with (ok, at) Raelin today that i thought was worthy of sharing. And then before i went completely batty (unrelated to the laughing bit) i managed to get us all uber-bundled and out onto the frozen lake where i took some photos to share.

ok, the story.

so its not uncommon that i don't have a chance to shower until the afternoon. plus waiting allows me to use it as a moment of escape and i tend to need that more in the afternoon than in the morning. My bathroom is littered with various toys that Liam plays with (when he's not trying to climb into the shower) and Raelin usually frolics and plays out in the rest of the house. I've been allowing Raelin to be doing her own thing outside of the bathroom by herself (while i shower) since she was, well, clearly too young as evidenced by the various crayon graffitti around the house. But anyway, i always have an ear tuned to listen for her screaming or crying in case she hurt herself or something.

So today i'm showering and i do, in fact, hear her crying. A moment or so later she comes into the bathroom, full-on wail: "MOMMY! MOMMMMMEEEEE!" Lips curled down, chin square. Ok, major big-deal, i'm thinking. i'm scanning her for blood. i see none. Hmmm... i wonder if the laptop fell off the shelf? I had set her up to "write" (ie; type random letters in various colors) an email while i showered.

"what, honey? what happened?" Still bracing myself for something significant, she wails,
"Mommeeee.. i need your help! MY EMAIL WENT SMALL!"
uh...
"your what? your email went small?" ok, so now i am trying to hide behind our clear shower curtain because i am about to totally lose it.
"yes... my email went SMALL. MoMMMEEEEEEE!! You have to *help* me!!!!"

Ok, so apparently she mussed around on the track pad and minimized all the windows. i talk her through finding the little arrow and pointing it on her SMALL email and tapping it. She claims she can't. I encourage her that she can and since i am all wet, she must, because i clearly cannot. Off she goes.

I am still laughing. But, who can't relate? i mean, sure we all swear and bitch at our machines, but who has not felt that deep despair at seeing your window, your creation, suddenly *disappear*? or worse yet, the whole frigging thing corrupts and loses it all? I have had many a wringing hand moment over that, but of course, one cannot break into wails and whimpers in the college computer lab, or Starbuck. No, cursing, "fucking thing!" under one's breath is far more acceptable for such public affairs.

i'll let her discover that on her own. in the meantime, i think she's learning some track pad skills. don't tell her Waldorf teacher.....

*****
ok, the ice. So as i began to descend into delerium this afternoon, unable to pretend another moment such riveting themes as "is Fozzy pooping?" and "is Kermits' cough keeping her up at night?" I rallied us all outside. This is our first real excursion since the temps have barely gotten above 18 degrees, not including windchill. It just isn't fun in that cold. I mean, i could do it if i was only responsible for myself, but with the kiddos- eh.

But i had borrowed a set of skis from a friend to try on our Chariot contraption and wanted to try them out before returning them (not unusual, to borrow something and really never have a chance to truly try it before sending it home). having watched various cars and trucks drive out onto the ice for over a week now, i figure it was safe enough. We wrapped and layered ourselves and here's our photos to document:

i'm still learning about posting photos on this lil' blog and kevmo is engaged in work and can't help me, so this will have to do. obviously the first photo is our chariot, with skis. then i tried to capture a picture of the ice and how thick it is- not sure if you can tell, but those cracks are cool. and then tweak your head to the side to get a glimpse of Liam's too cute mug, and finally, Raelin all bundled up in a couple of hats.

Me, Mine, Mo

2007-01-29T18:50:00.000-08:00

Tonight i went to my first yoga class in ... oh, a few years. It was heavenly. The instructor was feeling a bit under the weather and so we spent the entire class doing floor poses. Loved it. It was perfect for me. I realized how much i missed paying attention to *me.* Since most of my focus in life now is attending to the needs of others and making sure they are staying healthy and safe, it was great to slow down and breathe and just notice how my body is. And paying attention to oneself in yoga is quite different than just taking some personal time to go sit in a cafe or something. I have missed that. (the yoga thing. the cafe thing too, but i do actually do that occasionally).

anyhoo, it was also my first time going out in the evening (albeit early) since Liam was born for longer than a run to the store. I rushed home knowing that he would be ready to nurse, and like a dog knows when it's owner is turning down the street after work before she is in sight, Liam was crying for me as i walked in the door. As i sat to nurse him on our (new!! new!! heavenly!!) couch, Raelin began to line up her babies beside us. It's a motley crew of little fairies, a rattling stuffed elephant, a much-worse-for-wear grayish (read: used to be white) lamby and little lamby, puppies, etc...Many have dozens of bandages affixed all over their plush little limbs from the awesome Dr. Raelin kit her grandparents (kevin's mom and dad) made for her for Christmas. Since Bill is a vet, the dr. kit contains many more exciting things than your standard toy-doctor kit offerings. There's a real plastic syringe (sans needle, of course) swabs, co-ban wrap, tape, bandages of various sizes and shapes, surgical caps, irrigation syringe (aka: surgery bottle) and one most interesting device which brings us to our title: me, mine, mo.

so, raelin has her babies lined up in a neat little row. about 8 of them, give or take. she begins at one end of the line and begins to point at each one, saying in turn, "me, mine, mo... me, mine, mo..." Up and back down the line she goes. "me, mine, mo...me, mine, mo..." After about the 3rd round i get it and begin to crack up.

It's her version of "Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Mo" of course. Except this is all she remembers and the "catch a tiger by the toe" bit and all the rest of it has been left out- until she is finally ready to wrap it up and gets to the last part:

"And you're the one who gets the catheter!" she exclaims happily to the lucky baby, and up it's plucked for the most exciting doctoring of all: the administering of the catheter!

2007-01-17T17:46:00.000-08:00

i've seen some bumper stickers lately that were worth remembering:

"Someone else for President"

(because really, anyone is better than GW)

"When Jesus said Love your Enemy, I think he meant don't kill them"

(just FYI for the religious right...)

"After we spread democracy in Iraq, could we get a little over here?"

(pretty please?)

and on my friend Anna's car...

"I love my country, but i think we should start seeing other people"

******* In other news....

Some of you know that before Christmas, i went to a naturopath and a food allergy test done. The doc took a sample of blood and sent it off to a lab where they tested it against about 150 or so common foods. While they tested, i had 2 blissful weeks of ignorance when i ate as much of anything that i wanted, all the while knowing that soon the party was over.

and over it is.

my results:

cow's milk (and all its gazillion variations that appear in..well, most foods. especially the tasty kind)
yogurt (but not cheese... go figure)
blueberries (huh?i live in Maine for crying out loud!)
sesame
lobstershrimpandcrab (basically, one big shellfish)
baker's yeast (uh huh)
brewer's yeast (yup... no beer or wine :(
rye (whatever)
egg whites (WTF?)

I think that's "it".
The dairy was not really a surprise. I suspected that. And having eliminated dairy for Liam's first 3 months because it clearly bothered him, i have dabbled in those waters and its not all that terrible. Soy ice-cream has come a long way.

However. Those dairy free waters had many of those other things in them. In fact, those things are in most of the foods i eat *every day*.

yeast, for crying out loud?!!?

Sigh.

I am not sure what possessed me to do this, but it had something to do with getting rid of migraines and figuring out why my skin freaks out every now and then. i'm beginning to think that those things were not a bad tradeoff. But the thing is, until i eliminate these food items for up to 6 weeks (ideally more like 8-12) and then re-introduce them one by one, i really won't have any idea of what my allergic reaction is. It's not like i need an epi pen for eating a blueberry. So while in fact my body is producing immunoglobins (or is it goblins?) in response to these foods, some of the reactions may not even be noticable, in which case, i can eat them on limited, rotation basis (every 4 days the lab says) (is that after midnight, i wonder...?). But others may infact be the migraine culprit. and once you do eliminate and your body flushes them out, the reactions when you reintroduce are much easier to detect. like, instant migrane or hives or something (greeeaaaattttt....) It's hard to know until one eliminates.

So, that's what i'm doing. I've discovered the one bread that you can use for toast and sandwiches and whatnot that does not have yeast. Its' ok. I'm trying out all kinds of various milks: almond, hazelnut, rice, soy, oat... just for kicks. Oh, and to not create another sensitivity. Eating too much of one kind of food can infact create sensitivities (but not allergies). I bought _Vegan with a Vengenance_ cookbook for the egg-free, dairy-free baking. Im subbing my favorite meat for tofu and tempeh in all the other stuff (insert evil laugh and hand rubbing here!).

It's a trip. We'll see. I do notice that Liam seems to be sleeping better. Less restless overall, though this could also be because he is not sick. I havent had a migraine, but they were not frequent, so hard to tell if it's as a result of the elimination or not. In anycase, i figure if my immune system is not tied up dealing with pesky food allergies, it has more time and energy on its hands to fight off, oh, i dont' know, say, random bacteria? flu viruses? budding cancer cells? Who knows. I only have one immune system, may as well let it do its work on the important stuff, right?

2007-01-02T16:22:00.001-08:00

There are few things sweeter to parents than those moments after all the children are nestled, all snug in their beds...

depending on the child, this could be only 15 minutes, or all night. Mine are somewhere in the middle. Last night was the first night in a string of several nights proceeding it, when i did not sleep airplane-style in the livingroom on the futon with Liam on my chest. When babies have colds, you do not sleep even if you feel great. Course that great feeling is only the first day before the first night when you do the airplane thing. After that night you catch bare glimpses of your eyelids between hacking baby coughs and snuffling baby noises and rocking frustrating, crying sad baby. After that night, though you still may be healthy, you no longer feel great. You feel like shit, more sleep deprived than usual and conflicted: mad as hell at baby for not sleeping, and sad and compassionate for baby because clearly, he would also prefer to be sleeping and just can't.

anyway, last night Liam managed to do about 90% of the night lying down and so therefore today i feel more or less like a wonderwoman with all the sleep i got in comparison. And the great thing about having a second child a few years older is that you have living proof that in fact, the baby will grow up and sleep for hours at a time, lying down, even when ill. It just makes it all a bit easier to bear.

Despite the fact that its' looking like i'll get another better night's sleep, i am still aiming to be in bed by 8pm. that gives me 31 minutes to finish this blog, surf a few sites, brush teeth and go to bed. I'm solo until next Thursday, as Kevmo is at New Job Boot Camp. Raelin and i have made a mini calendar of the next 9 days and posted it on her door. Every night she makes an "X" on the day's square to count down to Daddy's return. This is a much easier concept for her to grasp since we've just done the whole Christmas Advent thing. And counting down to Daddy's return seems to, in fact, be a much better reward than Christmas :) It would be even better if the calendar gave her a little present for each day like the Advent Elf did. Preferably of the chocolate variety.

Sor-Ry!

The other thing that makes me feel like Wonderwoman is taking care of 2 kids by myself from dawn till dusk without maiming/injuring either (by accident or negligence, of course) or making either cry because of my loss of temper (which has happened on previous solo weeks. of course, we're only on day 2, but i'm going for 10).

Yeah, there's something about having 2 small lives entrusted in your hands and then doing pretty well at it all by one's ownself that feels good. I thought taking care of one was worth mentioning- hey, i got two now! And all hail the mama's with more than 2, but, you know, we're talking about me right now...

I remember when Raelin was born and my midwife left to go home a few hours later after we were all checked out pronounced Good.

I was like, um, where are you going? This is a HUMAN BEING! A NEW ONE! I think i'd only held a newborn (new within like a month) maybe twice in my life. I was not much of a babysitter and as a teacher, had no interest in spending my days with any kid younger than 11. Dude, hormones make you do *crazy* things like moon for a baby when you feel the way i did. So, sudddenly having the full responsibility of this new life was pretty, uh, daunting to say the least. But, not only do those hormones make you want to have the baby, they bring their side kick- Biological Instinct- and bam! you are suddenly all, " you have to hold her this way and that cry means she wants to nurse and i think she has gas and ....." its' like crazy hidden knowledge in there. Ok, so _The Baby Book_ by Dr. Sears helps *alot* but still... you Know.

Course, it all gets a bit less straightforward when you actually have to parent them as in guide and discipline and educate and so forth- hence the sense of accomplishment at caring for not one, but two, successfully, by one's self. but i certainly would not want to do this for longer than 9 days. Ok, maybe 12, but longer than that.....ugh.

all hail single moms. (bowing.)

Ok. 16 minutes and i have a few more sites to visit. Hope you all had a happy and fun New Year. I think it was New Year's anyway... i was in bed.

By 9.

Sleeping airplane style.

Merry merry...

2006-12-25T17:17:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas and Happy Boxing Day to the Aussies of the group...

Well, the day has been done. It started just before 5 am with me puttering around with Liam. Didn't sleep all that well due to a cough and stuffy nose but, par for the course, i guess. The tree and livingroom were all decked out. We had put all the presents under the tree, and next to it was Raelin's gargantual present, a set of playstands that Kevmo built in his shop. His were nicer and bigger than the ones offered in the catalogues and at Raelin's school. Not our intention, but they are pretty impressive. Anyway, they were set up next to the tree with the diningroom table pushed into the corner to make room.

We had actually tried to downsize it this year, believe it or not. We made pretty much all her gifts- the playstands, and then i sewed a bunch of doll clothes (a gift to myself as well, to keep her from raiding Liam's clothes), and i made her an apron to go with a kid's cookbook... anyway, a few other small things. So, on Christmas Eve day i'm thinkin' on what we have and suddenly realize that we do not have anything that can be from Santa. She knew Kevin had been working in the shop so i personally thought she would see right through that and not buy that the stands were from Santa. She also knew I'd been sewing a ton. I thought we needed one thing that she had been asking for to be from S.

So off i trekked on X-mas eve day, Liam in tow, to a toy store to get this MagnaDoodle thing that you can draw on over and over again and erase with the sweep of a little plastic lever. She actually has a small one but it only draws in gray and she'd been asking for one that draws in color *forever*. Perfect for Santa. I searched the toy store to no avail. I did, however, see a small child's guitar set off by itself on an empty shelf. I grabbed it thinking that if i didn't find the doodlethingamabob we'd give her the little guitar... something she had also mentioned, but not much.
anyhoo... i figured we'd return the guitar if i found the DTAMB (doodlethingamabob) cuz surely she didn't need 2 gifts from Santa in addition to everything else (from us, plus grandparents). Well, Reny's (local Maine got-everything store) had something kinda similar...but it was more like painting. Whatever. i grabbed it. It was 12 bucks and close enough. I was trying hard to resist that last minute, get exactly what they need- urge.
Home i toted the new things and showed them to Kevin. he thought we should give both. ok, fine. Ribbon around the lil' guitar, slid under the tree. Ribbon the handle of the DTAMB, under the tree. Not wrapped.
So about 5:45 am comes along and we hear R's voice. She shuffles out of her room and *completely* bypasses the towering playstands and exclaims, "kelly, look! a guitar!" she snatches it up and parks herself on the couch and coos over the red plastic pick and proceeds to play away in la-la land, so enthralled with her little guitar that almost didnt' even make it under the tree and *does not see the playstands* which, is like trying to avoid looking at the Eifle Tower or something. A good, oh, 5-8 minutes later (solid, with these things like 5 feet away from her) her mouth drops and she screws up her nose and says," Look at that!! They had to move the table away to the torner (corner)!" *Then* she gets up and goes between them and under the silk canopy, still toting the guitar. She looks around a bit, sits on the bench, and plays her guitar.

are we raising a folk-music playing hippie or what? (with a little electronica love on the side...oh, and Phish too, which she heard for the first time the other day and literally sent her bouncing around the room.)

It was great. how cute is it that she is so excited to play the guitar just like daddy? adorable.

she definitely came around to the playstands and all the other garb that she unwrapped and played with and there was only one mini-overload meltdown when she face planted pushing a new wooden stroller from my mom and step-dad. ooops.

a nap cured the fussies and all in all, it was a nice day. Liam had a ball, both with all the paper and ribbons and boxes as well as the loot he was given- a pretty substantial haul for a 7 month old, i have to say. But all really nice, thoughtful gifts. we are appreciative and grateful, both for ourselves and on behalf of our kids who can't really express that yet.

now for the purge of old toys more or less forgotten. i know some folks who have a "one in, one out" rule. I am not so hard and fast as that, but i do pass on things that are never asked about or have proved themselves to have little play value. It keeps me sane.

So another Christmas done. I hope you and yours had a nice day, however you spend it. One of these years i hope the kids opt for forgoing gifts and spending the money to go somewhere warm (well, warmer than global warmed Maine, that is) and hopefully that is at an age when they sleep and we actually have to get *them* up to have breakfast and enjoy a nice walk on the beach.

But until then... i'll enjoy these memories of paper carnage and carefree strumming...

catch 22

2006-12-22T06:14:00.000-08:00

one of the things that no one tells you about parenting (and this is not 1 out of 3, its' like 1 out of 3 million) is how much you will piss other people off, simply by doing what you think is right for your kids.

it goes without saying that you will- of course- piss off your own children. At some point (in our case, we are seeing signs of it at 3 1/2 years old) they will stop being adoring and loving and groupie-like and start rolling eyes and yelling at you to "stop singing that stupid song!" and declare that you are the most unfair person in the world and on and on. Most of us have been there; no need to illustrate.

No, what i'm talking about is how much you will piss off and offend and cross paths with all of the other people in your life:
-the teachers who think you are too nosy and bossy or not involved enough;
-the neighbors who resent all of your kids' gear that clutters up your yard and defaces the neighborhood;
-your childless friends who don't get why you do certain things and why you can't be like you used to be BK (before kids);
-your friends *with* kids who don't get why you do certain things;
-the grandparents for either not giving them enough time, or asking for too much, or limiting any number of things... or not;
-the doctors and other professionals for not following their advice and doing something different;-
-random strangers who you cut off while driving because you were breaking up a sibling argument in the backseat didn't see them; the people behind you in the express lane because you actually do have 14 items and 2 whiney children in tow who are keeping you from unloading your groceries at lightspeed;
-and on...
and on...
and on...

Most parents get a taste of this during pregnancy. Inevitably at some point in the classes i teach, a mom or dad will bring up something that grandparents disagree with, or that the experienced sister or brother or friend is giving them a hard time about. It can be both things that are seemingly less important, such as the decision to cloth diaper or to use disposables- typically the opposite of what the other does- or as important as the decision to delay or skip immunizations, or go to private or public school, or whatever. What i tell them is, basically, Welcome to Parenting- it only escalates from here.

More often than not, the conflicts are a surprise. Some things parents know going into the game, and others are as taken by surprise as they were when they planned their wedding: how did something so exciting and memorable as planning a wedding suddenly make me want to disown my family and elope? similar for expecting a child. It's a gradient, of course. Some people experience minimal strife, and for others it leads to an eventual family divorce. I have read about various dramas on my mommy boards, some of them completely whack, but others really just sad because everyone loves the children, but no one can agree.

I am not sure what the answers are, if there are any. I suppose in some cultures and societies this issue is virtually non-existant; everyone does it the same way. I can only imagine the additional stress for those families whose children grow up first generation in this country and buck not only something that is seemingly basic, but traditions that are cultural roots.

And as a parent, i am more inclined to say- defer to the parent- but you know, parents are flawed also. And when i say this- defer to the parent- i'm talking about competent, caring parents, not child-abusing, manipulative alcoholics. It's a muddy river, no fine line about it. In the end i have to think, what is most important? Is my insistance on x,y, and z more important than the good intentions of another person? Is that person's insistence on fulfilling their own do-gooding more important than my carefully considered boundaries? The importance shifts, i guess, like the currents of that muddy river. Things that are paramount when a child is 8 months are less important 2 years later... and virtually laughable 6 years later. Time changes everything, so the saying goes.

So to my new parents i say, Welcome to Parenting! and let it be. Better they don't knwn the full extent of the discussions and battles and hand-wriging that is to come. Better that we all- parents included- take a deep breath and let it go, and stick by whatever remains, that which is most important.

2006-12-17T08:25:00.000-08:00

I am stopping a quick whirlwind pick-up of our livingroom to blog, because as i was picking up, i was doing what i often do, which is blog in my head. This would be an extremely active blog if i actually wrote as often as i think about it.

i mean, when is apple going to announce the imind?

nevermind. that would be... well. stupid.

so, i'm blogging and leaving the detritus to continue to be detritus on our floor. Detritus including random and sundry ribbons that i have saved from various holidays to re-use at upcoming holidays and birthdays. These ribbons double as earthworms when our collapsable catch-all fabric tube is doubling as Raelin's burrow, when she is doubling as a mole or other earth-loving creature. we are a house of imposters here.

last night i went to a holiday gathering at the home of one of Raelin's classmates. The family also has a child in second grade, so it was a mixing of both nursery and older children. The nursery turn-out was poor, as it competed with a ballet performance and also is a much smaller class. But as i hefted Liam around and looked out for Raelin, i was amazed at how much older these 7 and 8 year olds were. They seemed so... mature and...well, normal. I am sure they are not burrowing in cloth debris tubes and asking to be fed ribbon earthworms after which they might decide to "nutter away" with a ball of errant yarn.

as much as we whine and moan about having young children, the truth of the matter is that it is fabulous in a manic sort of way. Frustrating is the feeling of never catching up, always being a few hours short of feeling rested (ok, a full night or 7 of never feeling rested), constantly having one's patience tested. But rich is the feeling of spontaneous laughter, of working through tough spots with intention and love and experiencing the strengthening of your bond with our children because of it, and likewise watching a sibling relationship grow...going cheek to chubby cheek with a baby, sleeping with a child on your chest...and then living in a fantasy world where you don't just walk- you nutter; you don't run off to the bathroom, you gallop; behind the couch is a 'basement' and inside the cloth debris tube is a burrow where you eat ribbon earthworms.

i guess this is why when people ask me if we are done having kids, i say i am 95% done. There is 5% of me that is unwilling to agree to the finality of these baby and toddler years. Its' like this article i read in O magazine where the author stated that she realized at a certain point in her 40s that there were in fact, a finite number of times that she would look at a tree again, or eat at certain restaurant. Likewise, as i watch Raelin nutter around and Liam fumble at the couch to pull himeself up, there are a finite number of times i will watch this scene. Yes, there are other wonderful things to come with having older children. I will welcome full nights of sleep and the fun that will come with having children we can hike and bike with longer than 20 minutes and such... but there *is* something about these crazy years that I will miss.

Kevin has been lamenting the slow wind down of Raelin's early childhood years for awhile now. I have pooh-poohed him, pointing out that she is only *3* for crying out loud. But after just a few hours with kids only a few years older than Raelin, i feel it too.

so moan and groan i will...but truthfully, i love it, like a nice fat, juice green satin earthworm.

2006-12-13T05:29:00.000-08:00

i blogged. i did. but then the silly server couldn't connect and i got distracted by other things and now it's all gone.

and i have eggs to eat.

but i'm back around...

Switch Witch

2006-10-22T18:40:00.001-07:00

So every year about this time when the holidays are pitter-pattering their gargantuan feet off in the distance, some discussion threads appear on my mommy boards about the relative merits and blasphemies of such things as santa claus, tooth fairy, easter bunny, etc... I have glossed one of these threads before, and that's about it because they all virtually say the same thing, different words, different posters:

Lying to children is BAD!!
No! It's magical!

You're going to destroy their trust in you!

I'm creating a magical childhood!

They always find out before they're ready and it crushes them for life!

I found out before i was ready and i turned out fine!

ad nauseum.
Ok, so i'm making fun and the posts are a bit longer and perhaps a tad more eloquent, but you get the gist. And i respect everyone's various beliefs and delusions and while I *personally* have no issue with lying to my children:

(no, raelin, the ice cream is all gone and yes, santa will bring you more presents if you give me a bit of your cookie.....)

I have no issue with those who choose to forgo the whole holy trinity of consumerism: santa/easter bunny/fill-in-the-blank.

However, this is not what this post is about.

I bring up the threads because i popped into one the other day about halloween candy and what various families do to handle the sugar overload. This I have an interest in because i do attempt to keep sugar at bay in my house, both for Raelin and me and i guilt Kevin heavily, but he isnt' playing, so mostly for Raelin and my own inner sugar demon.

So, one mom said that her husband came up with this idea of telling the kids that if they left their candy out on halloween night, a little goblin would come and take it and leave a present in its place. Hmmmm... i thought. Turns out that said mom's husband is not exactly original, because several others chimed in that yes, they do this and it works great. Kids get the fun of trick-or-treating, get to eat some candy that night and keep a few faves, and then offer the rest up to some creature.

The best name? The Switch Witch!

Brilliant! I thought.

So, i run this by Raelin the next day.

"So, Raelin, I heard about this thing and want to know what you think of it."
"Heard about what?"
"There's this witch...She's called the Switch Witch. And if you leave her your candy on Halloween night, she comes and takes it and -------- leaves you a present instead!"

Raelin's eyes grow big.

"She leaves me a present?.... But...does she have a dog?"
"I dont' know honey, maybe. What do you think of that? Would you like her to come to our house? I hear she only comes when she's invited."
"Will she come down the chimney?"
"Oh, you mean like Santa? I dont' know."
"I think she will...will she ride a broom? how will she carry the candy?"

Uh, ok. Do you want the goods or not, kid?

"Yes, she rides a broom and i don't know how she carries the candy"
"She has a bag."
"well, there you go. See, you knew the answer. So, Raelin, should we invite the Switch Witch?"
"I think we should. And i would like a doctor kit."
"A doctor kit? you mean, like the one we saw at Planet (toy store) the other day?"
"Yeah... and that book that Daddy wouldn't buy me at Bookland."
"Ohhhh... you mean the My Little Pony one?"
"Yeeeahhhh...."

(my kid is no dummy)

"Ok, well, I'll pass that on."
"Can the Switch Witch be seen?"

etc...

Raelin has changed her mind a few times about the SW, but i think when it comes down to it, she's in. Between now and Halloween, I think we will have more or less concocted not only a biographical sketch of SW, but a medical history and perhaps a family tree. She's pretty much *the* topic of conversation. And Kevin is psyched because he pretty much thinks he's the SW and will thus be the one with the bag of candy... ha! Have I a trick for him!

I'm adding another fictional character to my children's childhood, and i feel pretty good about that.

she did WHAT!!???

2006-10-11T19:12:00.001-07:00

This fall has been crazy-stunning... the colors are gorgeous, set against many, many crystal blue skies and balmy autumn temperatures. it really is new-england picture perfect.

so, this past weekend we decided to go for a walk at a great preserve in Camden. It's called Fernald's Neck, though it is more a penninsula into Megunticook Lake rather than a neck, but- whatever. Details. We packed up the kids and went for a fine family outing.

and you cannot believe what i saw some lady do there.

I mean, picture this beautiful day, nice trails (easy, i might add. no hills; all flat) and here is this woman pushing this huge contraption that her totally able child is riding in over these easy trails.

i mean, give me a frigging break. make your kid walk, lady!

what has happened to parents and kids today? i mean, are we so overprotective and whatever lame excuse one can come up with that we push our kids on hikes.

how disgusting.

and you know what else?

that lady was ME!

yup, it's true. it was me.

and in fact, the condescending voice from above was not me, but a family that walked ahead of us and not only watched us *return* to our jogger where we'd left it oh, maybe a 1 min. walk from the entrance and then continued on foot for another hour or more, but walked in front of us to the parking lot. yes, i was pushing Raelin in our Chariot, a bicycle trailer-come jogger. she's been sick, i didn't want to over exert her (um, keeping your kid home from school SUCKS) and sometimes we just want to walk and she wants to pet moss. Petting moss is great, but not for a half hour.

anyway, the trail was too rooty to continue on in the chariot and i was in fact feeling a bit ridiculous about having it out there so we left it to the side of a trail where it forked and continued, as i said, on foot. It was observed by the other family.

so, back to my story. i'm pushing raelin. kevin is ahead, carrying Liam in the backpack. the woman pulls her 3 or 4 year old son aside and says to him, in a sweet, sing-songy voice, (as i pass by) "Oh, sweetie, I'm So proud of you! You walked all by yourself for 2 whole hours! That's a long way! Good job!"

I would give anything to replay that moment, to turn around and bite my lip and say, quivering, (as i look at raelin) "She has cancer!"

Ok, so rude and not respectful to those kids who have cancer, but that lady can bite my ass.

I don't know what it is about parenting that makes us all trade in our standard high horses for skyscraper high horses. Everyone thinks they do it better, their kids are smarter/cuter/funnier/healthier blah, blah, blah.

Being judgemental has it's place. We need to be; how else to you come to conclusions for yourself and your family? I look at my options, i decide that organic is better than conventional food, therefore i believe that is the best choice to make. I've made a judgement. Do i need to be rude about it? no. Do i need to judge the *person* who makes a different decision. Sometimes. But i repeat, do i need to be rude?

I mean, i could go on, but you probably all get it. I have a dozen reasons or more why we decided to bring our yuppy gear on the hike that day. Another day, i probably woudl not have done it. But that day, we did. I could care less about whether or not that lady approved of my decision or why i made it. But she used us to set an example for her kid in a way that i think was pretty uncool. Despite the fact that i normally do not use a stroller and think breastfeeding is the obvious best option (to name a few things) when we come across someone doing the opposite, i do not hold how we do things up on a pedestal in comparison for Raelin. Simply doing our thing is enough. She'll get it.

and if i feel the need to be rude, i just come rant to my blog.

whatever, she was probably just jealous because the Chariot? It's a cool ass piece of equipment.

2006-09-29T13:29:00.000-07:00

It's almost the end of another solo week.. It's been ok. i made Raelin cry the first morning and have felt pretty crappy about that and so adjusted my temprement so we've made it through the rest of the week more or less on an even keel. sure, there have been struggles, but for the most part, we're still on good terms. As I have mentioned to many people, being a parent is much better than any personal therapy, if you're willing to pay attention to it.

sigh.

i don't know. 3 is hard. have i said that already? could just be that parenting is hard, and to be honest, when you have a baby, it isn't this kind of parenting. Its' loveing and taking care of parenting... not teaching, discipline, and negotiation parenting. When Raelin was a baby, I didn't have a *clue* about the future. I knew toddlers scared me, but i felt so confident in what i was doing with my baby that *surely* I was going to be equally as patient and loving and creative with my older child.

Ha!! I have to snicker when i'm on my mommy boards and the mom of a 5 month old gives advice to a desperate mama of a toddler or preschooler. Um, thanks for the thought, but _you dont' have a clue_. I dont' care if you were a preschool teacher or a daycare provider or raised your sister. When you are the parent and it is your child, it is a different ball of wax, my friend. If i ever go back to teaching,wow, will i be a different teacher. I feel badly now, thinking back to some of the approaches i took with my students and parents. So naive. So stupid.

This is not to say that said mother or father of baby will not give some sound advice. But i often find that their advice is a bit on the judgemental side (particularly if the mother in need admits to not behaving as she wishes to... (cough- like me!). On the outside, it seems so easy. But on the inside...

We more or less practice what those in the attachment parenting arena call, Gentle Discipline. Theres' no punishment or intentional consequences, including Time Outs, which are completely ineffective. The idea is that you guide your child through challenges, you work with them to get all needs met. It does not mean that your child is allowed to do whatever they want, or that you are permissive as a parent.

I know many people in my life may think that we allow Raelin to do many things that they think are not ok, or should be tempered or handled differently. We have a looser reign than some, but not as loose as others, in my opinion. I"m not interested in raising an automaton. I'm interested in raising a confident, whole, thinking child. i always go back to that when i'm losing my shit over the fact that i've asked her 5 times to do xy and z and then i invent some game to get her to comply. I stew to myself..."why is it so damn hard to not pour water on the floor?" or stop screaming...or put on underwear... or pick up the cat with 2 hands rather than around the neck.

My validation for parenting and disciplining the way we do is that Raelin doesn't do anything out of fear. She doesn't follow directions or not because of what may or may not happen after- yelling, time out, spanking etc... Yes, we yell when we are mad or frustrated or tired. Mostly me. And i am working hard on weeding this out of my behavior options. But I don't think she changes her behavior due to me occasionally yelling. She does what we ask or not depending on her own mood and what her own needs are in that moment- is she feeling tired and cranky herself? is this a boundary she hasn't tested yet? does she need attention? I actually like that Raelin challenges us and "disobeys" because it means that she is comfortable and trusts us. Being "in trouble" doesnt really happen. The "trouble" is that whatever toy she may be throwing around after we have asked her several times to stop, gets put away for a bit. We may leave a store if she is having a hard time staying close and being respectful of other people and property. We withold treats unless good food it eaten. But we do not isolate her to "think about" what she did (yeah, like that would happen), or any other traditional discipline technique. I suppose the only consistent consequence is that she knows when we are unhappy with her behavior, and disappointing or making someone you love mad never feels good. That goes both ways, and that's enough.

Things continue to change and evolve as she gets older, pushes more buttons and boundaries, comes more into her own power as a little person, and therefore needs to challenge ours. It is our responsibility as parents not to curb her spirit and power, but to curb our own appropriately in response. This is where the better than therapy part comes in.

With children- well, i'll speak for myself- with Raelin, how i behave with her is everything. When i identify what my own hang-up is about her behavior, see how i am attached to a particular outcome, etc... i get some perspective and change what I'm doing. Usually, she changes too. When i ignore my part in the issues, I start taking out my victimhood on her, and that's just not a cool thing to do to a 3 year old. Unlike having an issue with anothe adult, i can't just leave and walk away. She depends on me. That raises the stakes considerably. And being who I am, behaving poorly with awareness is not ok. It's tolerable until i work out whatever i need to, and then something has to change.

Every once in awhile when i'm feeling stuck in a rut, i need to go through all this. Remind myself why we parent the way we do and tease out to the bones what i'm doing here as a parent. and blogs are a good place to ramble. so, if you made it this far through my babble... cheers.

School Days, dear old golden Rule Days...

2006-09-21T20:05:00.000-07:00

Well, we've made it through 2 weeks of school...3 days of crying, dramatic separations, and 3 days of tearless agreeable separations. not so bad. (our school weeks are only 3 days...) I'm not sure that "tackling hysterical preschooler" was in Miss Toki's job description, but she does well at holding on and keeping her grasp, even when being thrown the "limp noodle" manuever. Meanwhile, the parent (me) walks purposefully toward the parking lot, not looking back (thereby imparting some vision of confidence to wilting child) while other parents who have already done the drop and are gabbing the parking lot nod and beckon with empathy, as they see my horror stricken face as my child's wail fills what suddenly seems to be a silent campus. A few minutes of listening and hovering behind the nearest minivan and I realize that the crying has not only stopped, but my child has willingly (perhaps with still quivering lip) joined the rest of the class on the morning hike.

Four and a half blissful hours later, I return to school to pick Raelin up and she is still in one piece, bearing a brilliantly colored paper, and has more or less forgiven me for leaving her earlier. One morning I got the running hug, but only once. Otherwise, in true three-nager fashion, she often feigns happiness at my return and bypassing any greeting demands, "where's daddy?"

see what 9 months of pregnancy, 18 hours of labor and 3 years of intermitten sleep get you?

no, just kidding. She doesn't always instantly ask for daddy, but i've gotten used to her often aloof reunions. She certainly isn't into taling about her day, either, another classic three-nager behavior. Our drive home conversations go a bit like this:

"So, Raelin, did you have fun today?"
"No, Raelin didn't have any fun."
"Not at all?"
"No."
"Did you play?"
"Yes, but I didn't have any fun."
"Oh, so you stood against the wall by yourself then."
"Yes."
"I see... and did you eat lunch?"
"Yes."
"what did you eat?"
"Rice and apple and cheese."
"And was it good?"
"No, Raelin didn't like any of it..."
"Hmmmm... ok then..."
"I'm not going to have fun tomorrow, either."
"Good to hear that..."

sigh.

Can't wait 'till she's really 13.
If I didn't know her as well as i do, i might be alarmed. I might have been more alarmed about her drama in the morning, but i knew she'd be fine, and, she is. I also know she' having a *great* time at school, despite her best efforts to disguise it, possibly in hopes that we won't send her, for whatever reason. Or, she's just hormonal and moody. Maybe just moody. Either way, I get the tidbits from the teacher and assistant who told me the other night at the parent meeting that Raelin asks her to tie a scarf around her like a Moby (one of the baby carriers several other moms and i have) and she tucks one of the stuffed babies in it and wears it around the classroom proclaiming it as her "Liam."

Awwwww... how sweet is that?

So she's fine. The school is great- warm, nurturing, nice small class (only 7 kids) and about as safe and comforting as you can get in a preschool.

And of course, we can't forget what mommmy gets: 5 hours, 3 days a week, of FREE TIME!! Liam is still young enough that i can consider it free time. And this week was awesome. Perfect Indian Summer weather. On Monday my friend and i hiked a local cliff trail, more or less uphill from the parking lot. With babies on backs, we huffed up and were rewarded wtih stunning views of lakes, ocean, islands, hills and the first brushings of fall foliage. It ain't the Sierra, but I'll take it! Getting out and being active has been my goal for myself in these early school weeks while the weather is still great and it's not full-on hunting season. I have a good friend who's in on it with me so hopefully we'll find ways to keep our bodies moving through the winter, cuz being 30 and not active- it sucks! sure, i lug around a 20+ pound baby all day so my arms are kickin' but that's about it, and me's startin' to feel a little worse for wear. Time to start yogi-ing around again.

and tomorrow we're off to the Common Ground Fair which is pretty much the bomb event of the year, in my opinion. I live for this fair. and it's almost midnight, so i need to catch some z's so i can truely enjoy it. Review will be forthcoming.

oh yeah...anyone wanna buy a house?

Just catching up...

2006-09-07T18:56:00.000-07:00

Ok, that Peak Oil post lingered for way too long as my last post. Suffice to say that we are over our freak out, and while we are still definitely keeping PO in the forefront of our thoughts, it's not dominating them anymore, which is a nice feeling. Kinda sucks to wake up in the night thinking about how your life is going to change in the midst of global chaos.

So, moving on...

Survived (just barely) my first week-plus without Kevin. Yup, home alone with the kiddos. There were some great times... taking a really nice walk with Raelin and Liam at one of the local parks, testing the cushion-like quality of various patches of moss, wandering down random trails, watching a totally crazy looking caterpillar with huge fuzzy antennae and equally large and fuzzy scale type things that went up and down its back. I had a night off when Raelin stayed at my mom's, and then my dad and stepmom visited, which was a nice diversion. But by Monday, i was more or less falling apart and skipped the family Labor Day cookout for time to sleep and rest with Liam. I love Raelin to death, but she takes it out of me.

have no fear, though, a remedy is in sight: SCHOOL! thats' right! School starts on Monday and I am chomping at the bit. It sounds terrible, that i am counting the minutes (well, not literally....) but i think it's going to be great for all of us. I definitely need the break and time to accomplish some things and i can't wait to get moving- I'm committing to hiking at least 2 of the 3 mornings she's in school. Liam is still backpack-able (though barely, the chub), so I'm just going to strap him on and explore some of the hills i've been looking at longingly since we moved here. And I know that Raelin needs the time with other kids, time away from her baby bro when she and her little people are the focus and there are stimulating, enriching activities just for her, even if she has to share things, which is not on her agenda these days. But hey- for 3 mornings, its' Miss Toki's job to deal with that- not mine!!
And really, we need the break from each other. It's going to be good. Its a Waldorf school, so i dont' have to worry about her eating crappy snacks or playing with yappy toys or coloring worksheets. Nope, just good, natural, hippy-seal-approved imaginative play and sweet stories.

You'd think things might be slowing down a bit, what with summer gone by and Kevin's folks resettling in Cali and Liam no longer a dreamy eyed newborn. But no. House goes on the market next weekend.

Yarp!!

We have a week and a day or two to declutter and clean and paint and declutter and then declutter some more. Sigh.

We're gluttons for punishment, really. I mean, isnt' a new baby enough? Nope, we went and had to find ourselves a homestead. Gosh darnit, now them thar Callahan's really gone off'n 'er rocker! B'for ya know it, we'll be all hillbillies 'n shit....

Be Afraid... be very, very afraid...

2006-08-19T10:06:00.000-07:00

and then stockpile, and plan.

If you don't know about Peak Oil , it's time to start a crash course.

If you're like Kevmo and I, and have been aware of Peak Oil for awhile, but just didn't allow it to truely sink in, it's also time to start a crash course.

The link above is a good start. Learning how to garden- for real- is another one.

just another post...

2006-08-12T19:50:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to blog for days, have had various posts running in my brain but though i am on and off the computer all day (and kevmo can attest to this) having uninterrupted time to complete said post from start to finish is tougher. By the time both kids are in bed and asleep i am either not far behind, or my brain can listlessly surf the web or watch some Tv on DVD and that's about it.

But tonight- you are in luck. A few handfuls of chocolate chips too many and the hours my dear, sweet husband allowed me to sleep in this morning have given me a second wind here at nearly 11pm. Which is good for you, in that you'll have this nice, rambling blog to read, and bad for me in that once again, i will have stayed up far too late. Though i am sure the parents in the audience can attest to how difficult it is to give up those kid-free evening hours. So often I am sooooo tired and I really should fall right asleep with Liam at 8pm, but then it would be like i got no break. Sleeping does not constitute a break. Thus I sacrifice a few hours of rest for some uninterrupted time to push the laundry through another cycle, get the kitchen cleaned, find some random space for the many toys scattered through out the house... oh, who am i kidding? mostly the kid-free time is spent emailing, surfing the web, watching a movie or hanging with kevmo if he isn't working.

But this is not what i intended to blog about.

So as kevmo wrote in his blog, we're checking out and pursuing quite seriously a chunk of land with a passable house and a nice looking barn. The property is up on a ridge about 25 min. from our current home, with unbelievable views of the valley and lake below- a nice country lake, not a jet-ski playground like the lake we currently play in. This opportunity kind of just fell into our laps, and there's nothing perfect about it; in fact, there are several things that are pausers. But when is anything perfect? I could ping-pong this thing back and forth in my brain until i've anticipated every possible move, but even then...??? It's taking a chance, a chance at country living, 25 min. from any decent size town that has things like groceries and gas.... a chance at living and making decisions with some people that we really don't know at all...a chance at managing a family, remodeling a barn, tending a marriage, finding solo time- all at once. But most importantly, it's an opportunity to live a conscious life, to choose to spend the majority of our time in a place that challenges us to stay awake and alert. It's pretty cool to have that opportunity. With all of the f*&cked up shit going on in the world today, I welcome a place of constant beauty.

****

in other news, we attended one of the first of- i assume- many performance that one of our children will be in. Raelin took a little ballet camp every day this past week with a gaggle of other 3 and 4 year olds. I was thrilled to see 3 boys in the camp, and since one of our good friends' daughter was also in the camp, i had some nice mommy time with a friend. On Friday the kids did a mini-recital. It was really just doing what they did in class, but in front of a line of parents armed with video and digital cameras. Yup, i filmed along with them... until i was laughing so hard i couldn't see the screen and decided i would miss it if i didn't put the camera down and just pay attention. Oh my. What.a.show.

For the first part, they stood in this nice little circle holding hands and showed that they knew first position, plies, tondeaus and the like. Well, some of the kids did. Some looked around wide-eyed. Some did the move 30 seconds or so after the others had moved on (Raelin)... some picked their nose (Raelin)...some ran over to mommy and daddy and Liam to give kisses (Raelin). When the ballet part was done, they did a bit of interpretive dance along to a taped voice that encouraged them to "Sway... like a tree" (Raelin hopped... like a ?)... or "melt" at which time Raelin announced that she was "swimming." We kinda felt like Steve Martin and his wife at the end of "Parenthood," when they watch the play desintegrate before their eyes with their kids at the center of it. It was priceless.

Needless to say, when the teacher, Miss Emily, handed out the fall schedules I told her that we had to settle into preschool and then maybe we'd consider doing ballet again in the winter when presumably Raelin's attention span and ability to follow some directions will have matured along with the seasons. We shall see. I doubt we have a dancer on our hands... at least not of the classical type. Abstract, interpretive and creative, yes. Structured, poised, focused ballet... doubtful. But then again, this is not anything that i didn't already know.

Well, it's time for me to retire for the evening.... Good night, Children, Everywhere...

da sudz...

2006-08-03T16:25:00.000-07:00

It seems only appropriate that i dedicate a full post on PottyParty to the Sudz. They are, after all, part of the family.

They come with us on errands, usually riding in the back of the station wagon. But unlike Jasmin (our trusty white Shepherd) they do not whine, and are quite behaved. They even lay down! Sometimes Raelin needs to give them a shout, "Sudz! LAY DOWN!" and from what i can tell (which isnt very much) they usually obey.

The Sudz sometimes hang out in the basement, and when they are especially naughty, they hang out in the bedroom when Liam is napping. But no worries- when I tell Raelin not to open the door to let them out (or check in on Liam to make sure he's still asleep) they quickly scamper out the crack between the door and the floor.

The Sudz like to eat crumbs off the floor, small bits of chips, O's and the like. Seems they must steal water from the dogs' bowl, either that or drink from the toilets, because i can't remember the last time a bowl of water was put down especially for them.

And apparently the Sudz are rather hairy, as i learned from eavesdropping on this conversation Raelin has just this morning:

ENTER RAELIN. SHE PICKS UP THE PHONE AND DIALS A NUMBER. GUESSING FROM THE NUMBER OF BUTTONS PUSHED, SHE HAS EVIDENTLY JUST CALLED MARS. THEY PICK UP.

yeah, hi, this is kellyraelinoceancallahan and i would like to know a question?

PAUSE

yeah, um, the sudz need a de-shed can you do that?... yeah... um, ok, grreeaaaaate.

PAUSE

ok, byeseeyoulateriloveyou!

CLICK

So you might be wondering who the hell the Sudz are... me too! But here's the best i can piece together...

In February, I took Raelin to kid's concert... a guy named Rick Charette who is a Maine native and has a gazillion albums out and has been singing since i was a kid. I have fond memories of such songs as, "I Love Mud" and "There's an Alligator in the Elevator" so i was pretty psyched to take her.

The first some Rick sings is called "Car Wash" and there are some groovy hand motions that go along with it. Since it was the first song of the show, Raelin actually watched and paid attention. She loved it. She more or less tuned out after that and preferred to run around and climb up and down the stairs, but when i asked her if she wanted a CD, she emphatically announced that she needed the "Car Wash" CD. So we got it, and for the next several months all we listed to were:

Splish, splosh squish
scrub scrub scrub

look at me, i'm covered with suds
Splish, splosh squish
splatter and spray
washing that dirt away...

etc...

(for the adult version, contact kevmo, his blog is now at www.kevcallahan.com...)

So, apparently that song made a big impression on her, and the Sudz have been with us ever since.

I can't complain, really. They eat fairly discreetly, now that i've insisted that they eat out of bowls and not off the floor, they seem to go to sleep on their own, and best of all, they are highly entertaining, via Raelin.

If they have sudzlettes... i'll let you know.

THIS JUST IN:

So Raelin's been asleep since 4:15 or so and it's now after 8:30 at night. We're sitting at the table talking when..."kerthunk" a door opens and closes and little feet start striding down the hall. Now typically when R wakes up there's some amount of grumpiness, or at least a "mommy/daddy can you come in here?" No such comment now, just the purposeful strides of a toddler on a mission. She got out to the living room and said in her groggy little voice "I just came out to get the sudz because they're climbing into here (as she peered into the carseat in out living room)."

Then she and Kevmo had some dinner and made ice cream...

and another thing...

2006-07-31T18:19:00.000-07:00

so after my last post, i had several conversations...with kevin, with other friends, and sussed out where i'm at a bit more. It was extremely helpful, and i'm feeling less manic about it all. Whether i developed this myself or it's a way of being i was born with, for the most part my major emotional hiccups last anywhere between 1 to a few days and then more or less peter out after significant ranting, venting, and often writing. in other words, i'm not longer stewing.

several key things emerged from my conversations...

first, there seems to be an invisible boundary around lots of moms where you only talk about your discomfort to a certain degree. Particularly if you are an attachment-style parent (often a stay-at-home mom, extended breastfeeding, homeschooling, organic eating, gentle discipline type). It's like you need to guard your complaints and frustrations lest you give the impression that you don't adore your kids, or someone might suggest that you do something drastic like... get a job! leave your children for longer than a few hours (oh, the horror!)! This can cause some major inner upheavals in overachieving moms. I'm not belittling the attachment parent way because...that's what I do, and i do believe in it. But I do object to the unspoken code that prohibits *some* moms from being honest and forthright about the fact that occasionally (and sometimes often), parenting sucks the big one.

So i've made a point to talk to some moms about this candidly and as i suspected, i am not alone in my bouts of extreme child-aversion and childless envy. Just simply admitting it and talking about it (hmmmm... this is sounding a little 12 steppish...)was really liberating. No more hemming and hawing about this developmental stage being tough and oh man, didn't get enough sleep again... chuckle, chuckle. Nope, just straight up: hey, i kinda miss my life before kids- you?

and on a more philosophical level...
when kevin and i were talking i puzzled out a bit more what else has been bothering me. summer in maine is short, and i've been feeling like i'm not enjoying it. i keep thinking, well, next summer will be easier. but will it? i mean, is life with a 1 year old and a 4 year old going to be all that less hectic? doubtful. its' so easy to fall into the trap of constantly assuring oneself that at some point in the future, the situation will be different, better. The only reason this is true is because it's not my present reality. Nine times out of ten, said future is indeed, just as challenging as the present, its' just a different challenge.

I dont' want to spend my kids' younger years wishing, waiting for them to be older. the world is way too unstable. who the hell knows what life is going to be like in a few months, let alone a few years. my father-in-law's accident- life changing in an instant- is certainly to that.

so my musing is- how can i not only tolerate but enjoy and appreciate where i'm at, right now, in all of its challenges and ups and downs, and not be wishing it away, or wishing it to be different?

kevin says listening to the news helps him- we aren't living in the middle of a war zone.

sigh. ok,now i feel like shit. yes. we are insanely lucky. having some gratitude always snaps me.

but beyond that (not that that isn't important) but i need something more sustaining...a practice to keep me not only grateful, but truly enjoying this stage of my life with young, needy, ever-have-to-attend-to children.

So i'm going to practice some equanimity. This is a concept i teach in my childbirth ed classes... the practice of Equanimity. The idea is that you give equal weight to everything- your labor contraction being of no greater notice than what you see before you, the sensations touching you, the music in your ear, the smell of the ocean outside the window. The idea is that we get so fixated on whatever is overwhelming us at the moment that we tune out and miss the majority of life surrounding us, both difficult and beautiful.

make sense?

i'm not sure how this is going to play out for me. I imagine it will look something like paying attention to the beauty around me (the lake outside our window, the never ending green of the hills) while acknowledging that yup, i'm feeling irritated and pissed off at my toddler...appreciating Liam's coos and giggles when i'm hot and sticky and over tired... you get the idea.

i guess it comes down to making a choice- what do i want to let in? i suspect that most of us go through our lives letting in most of the negative, be it our problems, our critical self talk, our frustrations with the world, and selectively give a nod to the positive things that we simply can't ignore. I'm just going to try and even the playing field. It's only fair.

in another life...

2006-07-28T17:04:00.000-07:00

The past few days, i have been missing my pre-kid life.

(ok- disclaimer: i adore my children, so glad i have them, do not regret having them. end disclaimer)

i didn't really miss my pre-kid life all that much when we just had Raelin. I think in the beginning it was so new and fresh and wow! we have a kid! that i only kinda thought about life before, i was too busy figuring out my new job as parent and enjoying it. as Raelin got older, i got more time away... was able to exercise again, eventually got a night away and by the time she was 2 and just before i got knocked up again, i was spending weekends away, partying, doing pole dancing lessons- you know, all the cool things even those w/o kids do.

there were several times when kevmo and i thought, you know, it would be so *easy* if we stopped now. Just one. We wouldn't have to move into a 3 bedroom house ever... our car would always more or less be big enough. We're through (most) of the toddler zaniness and life is getting easy again.

But of course, we weren't stopping. There was no question that we were going to have another one, and i was more than ready to be pregnant again. Damn female hormones! They are ruthless...

And you might recall a few posts ago after Liam was born and I was all high on my babymoon about how i thought that having 2 was really not that hard at all... in fact, much easier than making the transition to 1. Ok, i stand by the stuff about how it's easier to not be making the transition to parent again. This is true. But now that the babymoon is over?

This shit is hard.

here's what i would like (and thus you can assume that the inverse of these things is not happening):

-to use the bathroom uninterrupted, and w/o a child in my lap, or asking me incessant questions.

-to have a conversation on the phone that is uninterrupted by either endless requests for me to get off the phone, or baby crying.

-to have both the memory to remember the basic phone calls i need to make and the time in the day to make them.

-to be able to complete a task. any task- folding laundry (that means folding the clothes and having them *stay folded* and make it to drawers), dishes, fixing food, brushing my teeth, putting away groceries, etc... you name it.

-to have more than a few times a day when i am not carrying another person, or juggling 2 of them.

-silence.

-getting a beer outside of my own house, watching a movie on a screen larger than our laptop, listening to music other than Raffi, Brent Holmes, or MotherSong.

Shall I go on?

You'll notice that many of these things are the result of having a 3 yo, and this is true, but at the same time, i'm juggling all of Liam's needs- to eat, be rocked, walked, carried, smiled and talked to, changed etc...

Having 2 kids is kicking my ass!! I vaccillate between being irritated, exhausted, frustrated, irritated, guilty and back again all day long.

(yes, i know i'm venting and complaining, and it's my blog and i'll whine if i want to)

Of course, spiced through out all of this are the heart-melting moments that make me feel like shit for counting down the days until pre-school starts. Poor Raelin used to have a fun, happy, energtic mommy. Now she has a mommy who is constantly counting to 10 in her brain and using endless coping mechanisms to hold back from saying,
"shut the fuck up!!"

i'm being brutally honest. i just need to get it out. I'm worked, and i have no excuses- i have an angel for a mom who takes my daughter whenever i ask, a husband who works from home who frequently takes breaks to give me a break and then stays up late to finish his work. None of my friends have that; i feel pretty damn lucky. I also feel pretty scared to think of what my mental state would be if i didn't have these things. On my mommy-boards i frequently read about moms who have 0 support, husbands who work away from the house up to 10 hours or more a day... it humbles me, to be honest.

I know things will get easier. I gotta follow the light... like tonight when kevin was holding Liam and Raelin was playing with little bits of scrap wood building a "yark" ? (dont' ask). I was making dinner... and watching them. Liam was *entranced* by Raelin and watching her so intently, occasionally smiling and laughing. It was this great moment where i could see their relationship developing and envision where its' going to go; a golden moment where i connected with why we have 2 kids.

I know a lot of people think i'm a great mom and have lots of patience and really love being at home with my kids. And i do, this is all true. But it's important for me sometimes to vent and sometimes say "this sucks." Better to liberate it online that simmmer throughout the day.

Ok, confession over.

In the thick of it....

2006-07-21T17:41:00.000-07:00

summer, that is. and here's a photo to prove it:

oh, wait, but first this one, entitled:

I am Baby... Hear me Roar (or smile... impishly, as it were)

but back to being in the thick of it:

that's you know who in one of our raised garden beds, at the height of the pea harvest. We just pulled those vines, as they were tumbling over onto the beets and carrots. We've just started to harvest the beets and they are sooooooo sweet, its divine. Time to put in another few rows for the fall. The carrots are not turning out so great, which is a bit of a bummer, but everything else- kale, chard, lettuce, peppers and tomatoes and now zuchini, are going nuts and keeping us well fed. i'm barely buying any produce right now cuz we're not keeping up with what we've got in the ground. i lost some time this week with an intestinal flu bug that had me eating more white flour to uh, you know, bulk stuff up, than i have in years. strict orders from my doc: no vegetables!! what?!

so, yup. we're in the thick of it.

Liam is, as you can tell, someone to contend with. He is as sweet as can be though, with huge smiles and grins and shrieks and giggles. He does this thing sometimes when you smile at him, he shudders before he sighs and smiles back, like he's so full of joy and happiness and energy he just doesn't know what to do with it. Well, flapping his arms is a start... He's totally social and loves being talked to and smiled at and cooed over, though he's still figuring Raelin out. He always looks a bit horrified when she comes tearing over, sticking her face about 2 mm from his eyes and crooning (loudly), "what'sLiamdoing?what'sLiamdoing?hilittlebaby!Mommyhe'slookinatme" Repeat. Repeat. Smother and repeat.
A good friend of mine also has a daughter a son, similar age difference but all 1 year older than our kids. Anyway, awhile back i asked her if P (the daughter, about 3) was playing with L (baby son) and she said, "well, P mostly plays on L." I laughed, though didn't really get it. yeah, I get it now.
I assume that someday Liam will kind of get used to this and enjoy the whirling dervish that is his sister, but i gotta say, he doees shoot me looks like,"is she for real?" and i can only shrug and nod sympathetically. I ask myself the same question everyday. at least 50 times.

Yes, Raelin is our ever burning light and keeps us in stitches- mostly laughing, occasionally crying. the other day she was walking on the edge of the frame of the garden bed and slipped. Kevin looked up from where he was watering and said,"what's the matter Raelin, did you lose your balance?"
Raelin looks up at him and says, "No, daddy... My balance is in here!" and pats her chest.

Sigh. Gotta love that kid.

2006-07-01T19:04:00.000-07:00

wow... it's been a long time since I've blogged. A lot can happen in a month, and I guess that's why i've been avoiding my little outlet here. Too much can happen sometimes, things that take time to digest, things that are too big to find words to wrap around them. yes, I'm talking about my father in law's accident, but also, all of the daily occurances that mingle with bigger thoughts and realizations that jumble together and seem to tangled to sort out in something so simple as a blog post.

So, I'm not going to write about FIL's accident. Everyone who is close to me or my family knows that it happened and is probably getting the updates via email, so i dont want to repeat anything there. And really, i'm just not up to it. Not because it isnt' important or very much a part of our daily life, but because it *is* a part of our daily life so I'm going to let it reside there.

In other news, Liam is growing like... like a piglet! he has gained 3 pounds in two weeks! Now, I suppose you might think, well, if i ate as much as he does i'd gain 3 pounds in a few days. But then you gotta consider that 3 pounds is 20% of his body weight. So, if you're 150lbs., 20% of your body weight is roughly 30 pounds. Um, gaining 30 pounds in 2 weeks would be a *bit* out of control. So, 3 pounds on a kid that was 12 pounds just 14 days ago is, noteworthy. He has some beautiful rolls going on his arms and thighs and, as my friend Kim pointed out, no true neck. God, i love fat, breastfed babies!!

he is also smiling like crazy and makes these great semi-roars and sqeals. He love, love, loves to lie on the futon and stare at this small Tibetan rug we have hanging on the wall. When the track lighting is on the colors are illuminated and it is quite beautiful. Kid's got good taste. He also likes kicking around on his back in his Gymini (play mat with toys dangling down) and taking uncoordinated lobs with his clenched fists at the various accoutraments hanging above him. I attempted to get some video the other morning, but guess who stole the show?

Raelin is in major baby-play mode. She sucks on the pacifier, occasionally breaks out in fake cries, asks to be carried in the baby carriers, etc..It's all perfectly normal and we more or less apease her while raving about all the "big girl" things she can do as well, which are many and wonderful. I am finding myself positively endeared by her again, which is a relief after immediate post-partum perpetual annoyance. Apparently the "dirty little secret" about having a second child is that you begin to resent your first. I was feeling pretty challenged by this, and am grateful that it's diminishing and we seem to be getting into a groove as a family, despite all the ups and downs of Bill's accident and the changes of becoming a larger family.

Help from my mom has been amazing, and our wonderful friend Jason, with the help of many, many kind and generous folks, came out and lent a hand for a week. all of these things have made a tremendous difference in our mental health and our coping abilities. Often when i am listening to the news, or reading the paper about various catastrophes and issues around the globe, i feel a bit selfish and ineffective in my life and the need to find *some* way to reach out and lend some help. After the past few months though, I'm realizing that perhaps one of the best ways to be effective in the world is to help and support those close to you, be it directly, or as many of the RS folks did by helping Jason get out here to help. (This is not in any way to discount reaching out in bigger ways, or outside one's immediate sphere.) It may seem "small" in a global sense, but i firmly believe that when people feel loved and supported by their families and communities, they are buoyed and assisted in living their lives healthier and richer. Healthier and soulfully rich people in turn, are more likely to then help others and so on. You know, the whole pay-it-forward concept. It's been a good reminder...I think i've slacked a bit in this lately, and the reminder is welcome.

In closing, in a somewhat related tangent though it is late and my brain is quitting on me as i type, I had a conversation with a friend the other night and the subject of jobs came up and i mentioned some things i've been thinking of. nothing earth shattering or dream-job quality or even aspiring. since becoming a mom and investigating life from a completely different angle than that of a childless, post-college career seeking position, i have come to realize that jobs are simply jobs and nothign more. certainly they can encompass and be an outlet for one's passion, but there is more to life that finding and keeping the one perfect "job." a perfect reminder of this is to look at the wall in my father' in law's hospital room. It is covered in cards and letters from friends, family, well-wishers. his email update list has over 250 "subscribers" who are following his progress. I figure that if, at his age (63) i have relationships and touched the lives of that many folks... well, that's a good "job".

2006-05-30T17:19:00.000-07:00

I have heard it said that going from one to two children is harder than none to one. In line at the co-op, I heard a mom tell a friend of mine that having 2 children is not double the work, it's exponential the amount of work. Good thing Liam was already cooking, cause that was pretty discouraging on the procreation front.

Perhaps we're not there yet, but 2 1/2 weeks into it, I have to say that this is not as hard as going from none to one. sure, liam is an easy baby as far as babies go, but there are some key differences. For one thing, I know about babies. We aren't charting his wet and poopy diapers, or running to the Dr. Sears Baby Book about every grunt or random red spot that shows up on his skin. When he fusses or cries, i have some idea of what to do and feel fairly competent as opposed to when i was a new mom with Raelin and responding to her crying often felt like playing darts blindfolded. I had no clue. Thoughts about throwing the baby out the window don't freak me out. yes, that's right, throwing the baby out the window. Now, i haven't really felt this about Liam yet, but I'm sure i will. I did with Raelin. This time around, I know that that it's a fleeting thought in a stressful moment; i'm not coming down with post-partum psychosis, and more importantly, i know for sure that i won't do it. of course, i never honestly thought that i would throw raelin out the window, but having never had a baby before or experienced such intense ranges of emotion, it freaked me out a bit. plus i have other moms to vent with! i was so desperate to meet other moms when raelin was a baby i pretty much stalked any woman with an infant around stores until i found some way to approach her and make some-any- connection.

and then there's the identity thing...becoming a parent within a matter of hours is a crazy change in identity that takes months and sometimes well over a year to incorporate into one's sense of self. As i nuzzle Liam's super-soft head and read a book to Raelin, i have thought, why does this seem so much easier? besides all the stuff from above, which is significant, i think the biggest difference is that i am already a mom. I did my battles with Productive Mind that first year with Raelin, when i always felt like i should, or needed to be doing something else besides being with her... and then i feeling guilty for wanting to do something other than be with my daughter. I tried to cram a zillion things into her nap time, or wished she would entertain herself so i could entertain myself. I struggled with the need to DO, even while i could often hardly stand to be away from her.

and now, 3 years later, i am way over Productive Mind. I have parenting struggles, but less identity struggles. Being a mom is who i am right now, and everything else had to work into that, not against it. this is what's easy about having a second child, about being with Liam. There's no struggle. There's just appreciation and awe at this new being, and in watching my first-born become a sister, and my husband the father of a son.

the arrival of Liam Cooper

2006-05-15T17:00:00.000-07:00

So Thursday was more or less a normal day... Raelin and I were going to go out and play at the Toy Library (open indoor play space for kids) but she was resisting getting dressed and i wasn't all that motivated to motivate her and thought to myself, i dont' really feel like going anywhere either... So we spent the day sewing little things for the doll bed she and Kevin made, making flannel wipes for the baby, and in general having a great, mellow domestic day.

I may or may not have had any significant contractions throughout the day. Nothing that alerted me to thinking that labor was imminent. After dinner Raelin was pretty exhausted; we got her into bed and Kevin headed out to have a beer with a few friends. I puttered around, made myself clean the kitchen, surfed the web, read a bit and then started to get ready for bed. Kevin came home about 10:00 or so and we were in bed by 11:00.

I am fairly sure the contractions started up right away. The first few were nothing more than i'd experienced on other evenings, but i paid attention to the fact that they continued, and it seemed like fairly regularly. Hmmmmm, i thought. Raelin had already woked up once, so Kevin had moved into her room. I got up, went to the bathroom and returned to bed. At this point, i was fairly certain that the contractions were getting more intense and that this was probably going to go somewhere. I wondered if our midwives were still at our friend's house just 20 minutes away; I had heard that she was in labor that afternoon.

About 11:45 or so I went into Raelin's room and told Kevin that i was pretty sure that I was in labor. "What? you're kidding..." I told him to give me 1/2 an hour or so to walk around and make sure things didn't slow down or peter out. Within 15 minutes I was back; contractions were definitley *not* doing either of those things, and were in fact intensifying faster than i expected. I told him we needed to call the midwives and my mother so she would be available for Raelin.

the first call to Donna and Ellie was at about 12:30 am. there were, indeed, still at our friend's house and Ellie informed me that she was pushing. We chatted a bit and i told her how things were going and what i was feeling. She suggested we go ahead and start setting up the tub and to call when and if things changed.

Kevin got busy moving furniture and prepping a space for the tub. I put in a few calls to my mom and she headed over. Meanwhile, I walked and breathed and began moaning my way through contractions that were getting more intense. I was a bit taken aback; i wasnt' expecting such intensity so soon and i was feeling a bit alarmed that i wasn't having a more gradual descent into the state of mind known as "laborland." Unlike labor with Raelin, i couldn't lie down or sit. I needed to lead against counters or futon, or whatever was nearest and rock through them. I felt restless and instructed Kevin to page Ellie again, just 30 minutes after the first call. Things had definitely progressed and we needed a midwife.

The tub was filling up at this point and i got in with about 6 inches of water. By now the contractions were getting difficult to manage on my own and i asked kevin to get in the water with me. On my knees, leaning against the wall of the tub, I began some serious vocalizing to get me through. The amazing thing to me was how aware and coherent i felt. At this stage in Raelin's labor, i was in a totally different dimension. The endorphins and adrenaline, while not pain relivers, were reality-relievers that allowed me to totally surrender to the process. This is something i teach in my classes, about the importance of helping a laboring mom get into that primitive, other reality and how that facilitates labor. So, here i was groaning and moaning like hell and thinking, where are my freaking endorphins?

The tub was awesome... perfect temperature. The second or third contraction I had in the tub my water broke with a distinct, Pop! Oh fuck, I thought, here it comes... typically when your water is still intact the contractions are cushioned by the sac, but once it's broken, the baby's head can descend right against your cervix without the water cushion, stimulating more intense contractions. I looked up at the door and said, "where is the bloody midwife? she needs to be here!" i was already feeling the urge to push, and that freaked me out. How could i possibly be ready to push already? I had been in labor for maybe 2 hours. Holding back the urge to push is one of the most difficult things to do... it's like trying not to breathe after you've held your breath for as long as you can. I panted my way through the next 2 contractions and then my savior, Donna, arrived. I love midwives. they are so in tune... she got right down next to me and asked me how i was... how long I'd been pushing... all in a calm, reassuring tone and as if she had been there since the beginning.

One of my concerns was that i was pushing too soon and that can make the cervix swell and hinder dilation. "do you think i'm complete?" i asked. "oh yeah, you're complete!" she assured me and so I braced myself for pushing. With the next contraction, I pushed and reached up and felt Liam's head about a finger length away. I had a nice break before the next contraction and asked for an ice cube of Recharge... I was biding my time. I knew the sensation to come, and I wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to bring him down any further yet. Donna brought me an ice cube and with the next contraction and a substantial roar, his head was right at the opening. Rest. I waited. "Is it ok for me to take my time like this?" i asked. "definitely!" Donna said and so i relaxed and tried to mentally and physically prepare myself for the next one.

It's hard to describe the feeling of a head coming out of you, but suffice to say it is totally bizarre and fascinating and crazy painful and amazing all at the same time. I took my time and was coherent and practically conversational. I heard the cat meowing outside and almost laughed. Two more contractions and his head was out... one more and Liam was free, at 2:13 am, barely 3 hours after labor had started. We brought him up the surface,stopping briefly so Donna could slip the cord that was wrapped around him once. He was a bit blue, so she gave him a bit of oxygen and ventilated him to stimulate his breathing. we rubbed his chest and sang to him. He coughed and bit and Donna flipped him over onto his tummy, which he responded to immediately- his skin pinked up and he began to cry in earnest... for 15 minutes! And then he settled down with the help of a homeopathic remedy, and slept peacefully for the next 2 hours.

Birthing the placenta is the final stage of labor, and that practically took as long as the first half. Nearly 2 hours labor i finally let go of the placenta. My feeling is that my body wasn't ready to finish labor all that fast... it was such a shock to do so much work in 3 hours, holding onto the placenta made it linger a bit. But it came out, healthy and well and all in one piece. finally... and empty belly and the end of pregnancy... and a greate sigh of relief!!

I should mention that Raelin slept through the entire labor... our friend's baby (whose birth Donna had to unfortunatley miss) was born 15 minutes after Liam...my sister arrived 10 minutes after Liam was born... my mom was a dream help...that we had a warm fire and scrambled eggs and almond butter and toast...that Liam is beautiful and perfect in every way and that we are blissed out to be a family of 4.

as promised

2006-05-04T18:51:00.000-07:00

39 weeks preggers... i let raelin go at my belly with the paint.

she had her first hair cut the other day...

future midwife...

I am-

2006-04-15T14:28:00.000-07:00

in a word... ginormous.

occasionally i look down at my belly and think, hmmm...not too big. and then i catch a glance of my profile in a window and i startle and my expansive girth. I'll post a photo here in the next day or so, because you really can't begin to appreciate it without a true visual.

and i understand now why most of the moms in my online due date club (yeah, yeah...) are way ahead of me in completing the "to do before baby" list- because at this stage, there is barely enough range of motion, let alone energy, to get simple household tasks done. Forget painting baby rooms, washing and putting away baby clothes, etc...and yet, here i am, at just about 37 weeks (out of 40, for those who may be a bit rusty on their gestational knowledge) hunkered over plastic tubs, attempting to sort through baby clothes with my toddler. I have a list of very fine projects in my mind that i would love to accomplish... like finishing the mural i started in raelin's room, felting some shapes and animals to make a mobile for the baby (requires standing at the sink, at which i must do at an angle now), sewing flannel wipes (a possibility, since i get to sit, though again, might have to face the machine at an angle), and planting various seeds in the garden. One of these might actually get done, and it will probably be the sewing. And maybe the gardening which is actually quite a good thing, since leaning over encourages the baby to face in an anterior position, (face down) rather than rolling over to posterior (face up). Posterior labor sucks. I haven't had to do it (thankfully) and don't need to experience it to know i dont' wanna.

So, needless to say, i am eating my contempt at those mom's who had all the baby clothes sorted etc... by 6 months.

The other problem with end of the pregnancy and projects is that this crazy nesting urge kicks in...like a bird building from scratch, i suddenly want to redecorate. I spontaneously need to clean out drawers and cupboards, organize photos, and shop at Target for coordinated organizer bins. This is great and all, but since i walk at 1/4 speed (make that waddle at 1/4 speed) and need to sit down after about 30 minutes or so, it's mostly an exercise in frustration.

So, I admit it. I'm blogging as an outlet to whine.

At least with all of these aches and pains and whines come the unmistakable signs that a baby is on the way- not just the contractions and the fact that my midwife says the baby is so nestled into my pelvis she can barely feel it's head (!!!), but there's a birthing tub in our house!! It's all wrapped up in an orange canvas bag, just waiting for *the* moment when true labor is upon us. There are a few boxes of supplies at the foot of our bed, and a page on our fridge entitled, "when to call the midwife...."

I am so excited to meet this little kicker and roller... in some ways, more excited than i was with Raelin. I had no idea what i was getting into with her- all i saw was the unknown of birth on the horizon; whatever lay beyond in parenting was beyond the curve. This time, i am all the wiser- and my thoughts pause briefly on labor (pain, endorphins...big push! all done!) and then i get to muse on the juicy parts: boy or girl? will it look like Raelin? act like Raelin? active or mellow? the questions are endless.

so, be on the lookout for some email or quick blog or something alerting you that birth is afoot here. Though my due date is still 4 weeks hence and I could go late, babies set their own agenda... we could be a family of 4 any day now.

Questions

2006-04-08T15:50:00.000-07:00

"Are we on Old County Road?"
"yes, Raelin, we're on Old County Road."
Where is New County Road?
I don't know sweetie... somewhere in Rockland
Where in Rockland?
In some other part of town.
Are we in a part of town?
yes, we are.
Which part of town?
Um, the Old County part of town
Are we still on Old County Road?
Yes...

(pause)
Are we on Old County Road?
yes, we'll be on Old County Road until we turn.
Is we on LakeNew Terrace yet?
have we turned yet?
No.
Then we're still on Old County Road.
*When* will we be on LakeNew Terrace?
When we turn.

(pause)

Are we on Old County Road?

_____________________________

Wecome to my world...The littany of questions that spread over our hours like thick frosting...always sweet, but too much gives you a headache.

When our midwives met Raelin and her chatter for the first time, Donna said to me, "kelly, I bet you were one of those mums who talked to Raelin constantly when she was a baby...'Look Raelin, mummy is getting ready to do the dishes. lets' put you in your bouncy seat up on the counter so you can see... look here's the soap! now the sponge! Bubbles!'

I sheepishly grinned.

At another appointment, Donna remarked, 'Wow, her voice is at a really interesting decible... it really cuts through all the other conversation and noise in the room, huh?' She observed this with a knowing smile as Kevin and I agreed.
She went on, "Your baby is going to come out and hear Raelin's voice and look up at her and think, "Mommy!!"

This is probably true. No doubt our soon-to-be-named Nutkin will be far more drawn to Raelin's voice than my own, if for no other reason than it has been hearing her voice easily double or triple than mine.

Ahhhh... this is where having a second one becomes easier than the first! Built in entertainment, non-stop action and verbage at our fingertips. This is a lucky baby. Not only does it's big sister know how to ask a question, she can make up stories, sing songs, bring soap suds to life and she makes some mean muffins from baking powder, nutmeg, and beads.

(short tanget story... when we're out in the kitchen before 6:30- and it's often before 6- the routine is that i get raelin some toast, and then i hit the futon to snooze for an hour or so. she is usually pretty good at keeping herself busy and allowing me to rest until she can't stand it any longer. or, she has poop on her finger... but that's another story. anyway, this past friday morning from my recline on the couch i could hear her getting into the drawer where we keep the spices. I decided to stay put and deal with the damage later. About 45 minutes later, i woke up to a baking powder, nutmeg, dill concoction- aka muffin batter- which she continued to busy herself with for another 15 minutes or so. long enough for me to make coffee and my own toast, so i just let her carry on. 45 minutes or so later, it was time to make some real muffins to bring to our knitting playgroup. As we measured the now nutmeg-flavored baking powder into the measuring spoon, i noticed some decidedly un-baking powder like chunks. A probe with my finger determined them to be fimo beads. A stir in the tin proved that in addition to nutmeg, the baking powder was now chunky with many, many beads.

ah well... i emptied the measuring spoon into a larger measuring cup and fished out the beads before allowing her to add the bp to the batter. i thought we got all of them. until later that afternoon i looked down into my half-eaten muffin to find a small red bead nestled quite innnocently next to a blueberry.)

But back to Raelin and her chattering...at the end of the day, when i am often all questions and listened and answered out, i sit on the couch and check up on email and other internet related tasks while Kevin does the bath with Raelin. The other night, their voices drifted through the door, singing one of Raelin's favorite songs, "The Hammerhead Shark." Their voices wove together, that unique decible of her voice trying to keep up with Kevin and the melody. I paused from my computer tasks and listened, thinking that it's amazing how one thing that can seem so draining at one point, can in another moment, be so fufilling.

What a lucky baby.

2006-04-01T15:45:00.000-08:00

Several exciting developments have occured this week.

Yesterday, our neighbor came with his crane and hefted our concrete front steps away- FOREVER!! I've been wanting to rid our house of those crooked, ugly ole steppers from day one, and now they are finally gone. It's nice to live next door to someone who owns expensive, effective, heavy machinery and has the skills to use it. You wouldn't think that living next door to the owner of a commercial concrete business would be so beneficial, but we've reaped the benefits many times... though i did have a few heart stopping moments when 1) the crane boom was mere inches from the power lines that run to the house 2) the aforementioned steps were hanging in the air, being transported toward the truck, often mere inches from windows and walls, which i envisioned caving in were a breeze to come along. But, neither occured. It took all of 15 minutes for them to disappear, easy peasey. Unfortunately, we were not well prepared enough to have grabbed a camera to document the procedure; i'll leave it up to all of your superior inner visioning skills.

Raelin became the proud owner of her own plunger. Bright, primary yellow handle perfectly sized for a toddler at 12 inches long, attached to an equally cheery red rubber plunger bulb (is that what you call it?). I wont' go into the back story of why she has this fascination for the plunger, but needless to say, she's seen it in action a bunch and well- i suppose from a toddler perspective, a tool that magically makes poop go down an otherwise clogged up potty is pretty exciting. We weren't so down with her dragging the working plunger around the house to unclog all of the backing up that apparently is happening wherever you look. So today Kevin came home from a hardware store run with her very own. Definitley a wisely spent 2.60. Talk about encouraging creative and imaginary reality play (does that make sense?)... won't see that in a Toys R Us! (nor a Waldorf store for that matter...)

Speaking of magic and toddlers' perspectives... I took Raelin to a free magic show today at the library. I've taken her to a few events before that required being part of an audience and they didn't go over well. Even if you don't have kids, you probably think it's fairly obvious that taking a 2 year old to a production of the Nutcracker seems a bit dicey but hey, it was Christmas and I"m a total sap. I can't wait until she's old enough to actually sit through something like that, and like it to boot.
Anyway... so the magic show was free and therefore i had nothing to lose but time trying to occupy ourselves around the house, and if we needed to leave, the library has a fabulous kid's room where we can easily free play for a good hour or so, and fat ducks across the street that love to feast on cheap bread. So, all in all, no reason not to go.
The room was packed with kids, some toddlers, but most were in the 5-9 year old set. I noticed a huge percentage of dads in the room, solo with their kids. Can you tell this was a Saturday event?
The magician was young, somewhere in the neighborhood of 25-30. Hip, approachable- none of the slime and cheese of the more well known magicians. He started the show with some music and then did about 10 minutes of continuous tricks. Good ones too and ended his intro producing a dove named Butter out of a scarf. That's just cool. And then Butter took off and flew over toward us, which was even cooler.

But after Butter was escorted back to her small abode in the corner, the magician started talking along with his tricks, and by this time Raelin had finished her cookie that had been keeping her quiet and still in my lap. She stood up next to me and attempted to watch the show with me whispering to her things like, "look- where did the ball go? Wow! did you see him pull that card out of the air?"

She was completely unimpressed because- i realized- that's pretty much her reality anyway. Taking a toddler to a magic show is like bringing Santa Claus to a simulated North Pole- no big deal. Objects appearing, disappearing and transforming with no apparent cause is Raelin's reality. Happens every day, and she has no basis for questioning the plausability of a such a thing.

With that understanding and the fact that she was declaring, 'this is hard!' (which is what i said to her about sitting in an audience for the Nutcracker. Apparently that part of the outing made an impression...) we left for the children's room.

I'm going to be sad when she loses that unconditional acceptance of all things... when skepticism and disbelief become part of the lens through which she views the world. I know it's inevitable, but it certainly dulls life a bit- for all of us. Which is why we make a conscious effort to support and affirm her playmates that we can't see...I don't correct her when she inserts herself as the main character of stories in which she was not a part of (either written stories or about people we know)...or makes up bizarre and impossible stories and situations of her own. I have not qualms about "lying" to her about Santa or the Easter Bunny or any of the other characters that yes, are commercialized parts of childhood, but are also such great vehicles for awe and imagination. I have no doubt that despite my efforts, another point of view will come to her attention- the view that questions and doubts. I'm happy to step back and leave that bit of teaching out of my job description as parent.

2006-03-24T16:28:00.000-08:00

Very well then... I'll blog.
It's 2 minutes shy of 7:30 pm and bed is my next destination. Raelin has been snoozing for about 40 minutes or so and the animals... well, they pretty much sleep all day. What I want to know is:

What god do you need to appease to come back in the next life as a cat? Because... I'm all over that. I figure for as much sleeping and lounging as Reggie gets in this life, he must have been a single mom with 4 kids in the last one. You gotta earn this kind of lounge...

So, they say it's spring. I suppose this is true. We have tulip bulbs just skimming the surface of the soil and many of the trees have preemie baby buds starting the journey to leaf. But i have to admit, it's hard to get excited about these signs. Normally, I would be thrilled about days that break 40 degrees (ok, and i did rave about that in my previous post) but honestly, without a true winter, it's tough to stay excited about this weather for long, which has more or less *been* the weather, less 10 degrees or so, since March. Sure, we had our few cold spells... a bit of snow here or there... but otherwise? It's felt like March for 4 months. And that just sucks. Takes all the excitement out of spring which- while it cannot be compared to the luscious, warm springs of western climes- feels like heaven when you've just had 3 months of snow, ice, and temperature ranges from -0 to the 20's.

Ok, enough weather bitching. It'll be over soon. This we know. And how do we know this? Because i have a very large belly. There's a kid moving around inside who is going to need to move out. We're anticipating this move in about 7 weeks or so, when it's May. And May is very different than March. This is playing some tricks with my head and sense of how quickly this is going to be upon us. See... May is mostly green and temperate, and that feels very far away right now. So, by association, the baby is far away. But, by the looks of my localized growth and the twinges down yonder that i am already starting to feel... baby's gettin' ready to move. Hmmm... I suppose that's where April comes in.

Speaking of babies, impending births and whatnot... we saw our midwives this week and with some very well practiced hands palpating my belly they pronounced that our little kicker is probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 4.5-5lbs. already. Whoa! That's like bigger than a rotisserie chicken! Lucky for me, the rate of growth slows down now to about 1/2 lb. a week at most. So, we're looking at probably a 9 pounder or so. Yikes!

Here's a fun fact: if the baby continued to gain weight at the same rate it has been since conception, it would weigh 200 pounds at it's first birthday. Maybe that's the secret behind sumo wrestlers....

And to close, we have some new roomates. Suds have moved in. You know, like soap suds. Not unlike the chickens they wander around the yard, but come when called. Guess who calls them in? You got it... Raelin stands at the base of the front steps, clapping her hands and calling, "Suds! Suds! Suds- come! come!" They stall a bit. Then they come trooping in and scatter about the house until the next time they're called. Really, they're pretty easy to live with.

just gestating...

2006-03-08T17:39:00.000-08:00

Yesterday and today have been the kind of days you wait all winter for...about 40 degrees or so by 1 pm, bright sunny, blue skies and pleasant enough to be outside for an extended period of time without being concerned that one of your limbs may not function properly upon re-entry, due to freezing.

Today after a nice nap, i took up where Kevin left off and spent a chunk of time outside with Raelin. We went on a walk with the tricycle...you know, walked the tricycle. Occasionally she rode it or pushed it (it has a handle out the back) but mostly she ran along side it. In fact, she more or less jogged the entire way around the neighborhood, stopping every so often to pick up a handful of roadside gravel to dump in her basket on the back of the trike. The gravel was to add to the driveway rocks which are the primary ingredients for cakes and other goodies that we cook up with plastic sand shovels and mini pans and bowls. That was yesterday's activity, and let me tell you, there was nothing finer than basking in the sunshine in a wool sweater, a pleasant 43 or so degrees, making gravel cakes.

I've moved into yet another state of this pregnancy, and that is torpor. Ok, not rigid torpor, but i'm more or less moving slow and do my best to try and move slower. Raelin on the otherhand, mistakes my sluggish body for a climbing device and attempts to round off my shoulders, knees, belly, lap... whatever is closest. She has developed a move called "boinking" and another called "binking" and to the best of my deductive abilities, it involves throwing herself on either kevin or i while declaring that she is, indeed, boinking. Needless to say, i'm not too down with this. As my midwife Ellie pointed out, I am already mothering 2 children, it's just that one is on the inside, and already my relationship with raelin has had to change.

It makes me sad, to have to say no to her so much, to have to pull away from her need to by physcially *on* me all the time which i know is a natural response to me pulling away as I am less available to her in all the ways i used to be. She is less satisfied with reading a book, it's physical contact that she wants. I keep trying to tell her that once the baby is out and my belly is no longer a large obstacle I'll be able to do all these things again with her. But- will i? A friend of mine said that the last trimester is a natural separation in preparation for the increased demands of the mom once the baby is born. It will help Raelin to further accept those changes and my diverted attention. And that makes me even sadder- so this is it? Our one on one mama and child affair is coming to an end already? I am trying to soak up these last 10 weeks or so, even as I desperately need a break from her neediness. It's a bit of madness, really. My friend said that after her daughter was born, she and her husband spent an afternoon a few days later, crying together over the loss of their intense relationship with their older son. Oh man, I dont' wanna feel that. I suppose that it can be said that you don't lose the relationship, it just changes, but that's like saying that you and your spouse will get back your pre-baby relationship once things get into gear. And that's a crock of shit, so I imagine that Kevin and I too, will have our share of tears once the baby is born, for both the joy of an expanding family, and the loss of our little threesome.

But, enough about that. Back to the weather...being outside softens all the intensity. Raelin is absorbed in her outdoor play and the earth soaks up her energy, rather than it all pouring into and onto me. I've put our old windows up on two of our raised beds to help warm up the soil, and hopefully we can get some seeds in by the end of the month, and with any luck, be eating fresh greens from the garden when the baby is born. Back in the fall, i planted a few dozen bulbs. I remember thinking that when we start to see those first green shoots, we'll be looking out for the nutkin too. Seems so long ago, and yet just a few days back. With such a warm winter, I wonder if they'll be up early. Not hoping the baby will come early. It can cook as long as it pleases, but maybe we'll have a homegrown happy birthday bouquet when the time is right.

grace, and then something sort of like it

2006-02-02T15:56:00.000-08:00

I got my ass kicked today by a -3 month old and a 2 1/2 year old. The -3 month old would be the Young Nutkin who has yet to make a true entrance into the world, and of course, you know Raelin, our darling 2 1/2'er. between pregnancy and the schizophrenia of toddlerhood, today was not so good. burst into tears no less than 3 times. behaved less than nobly with Raelin over silly things and in general was wishing i could crawl into a hole and emerge several years hence.

what is it about being a toddler that makes you so damn arrogant as to make demands one after another, push around dogs who are larger than you are, and pretty much expect that things are going to go your way, regardless of what else is going on? (maybe because they ususally do?) I dunno. A few days ago i was feeling all arrogant about having reached a plateau and understanding about Raelin and her development right now- that i was trying to control her behavior when there is nothing to control- how can you control the developmental urge for independence? it's a totally moot and frustrating endeavor, and in a epiphany like state, i even wrote a long piece about it with thoughts of sending it into Mothering Magazine, the voice for gentle and natural parenting.

ha! that's the thing about kids. wait a day or so (and maybe only an hour or less) and everything you thought you figured out is more or less a wash. well, that's not true. I am sure those realizations will come to bear fruit at some point, but shit, if they don't help me out on the bad days, what's the point? if- 3 years or so ago, when i was all ga-ga baby but not pregnant yet- someone had plunked me down in this day, simply to experience it, i probably would have been like: uh, no thanks.

i'm not kidding. parenting turns you inside out and red all over, kinda like that old joke about the skunk in the blender. the saving grace is that you *don't* get to experience days like today unless you have kids (and, sorry, babysitting and teaching don't count. you get to leave them at the end of the day) and therefore enter parenthood in a blissful, naive state that continues through the early months of newbornhood and babyhood when you fall head over heels in love and a damn good thing too, because that's what carries you through the crazy times.

the other saving grace is that you have days that are not like today. Days when you are constantly mopping up your heart from the puddle it's melted into watching your child do something as simple as rock her teddy bear, or put her arms through her sleeves for the first time by herself. days when she shares with you of her own volition and cuddles up after a nap like a warm, purring kitten. when you share jokes, play Go Fish by breaking all the rules, and watch her ecstatic face as she sleds down a hill of fresh snow. mostly these moments happen every day, and carry you over the craggy spots. yes, these are moments of grace, and i will go to sleep tonight thinking of those... and hoping that a few come our way tomorrow.

The Evening Ritual

2006-01-16T16:17:00.000-08:00

It's funny... when I named this blog, I though it was just kind of cute. And knowing that at some point in the future we would be going through all the potty learning stuff with Raelin, it seems aprospo (spelling? whatever). Anyway, apparently in our case, foresight is 20/20. We are deep in the potty trenches...

Raelin stopped napping shortly after Christmas. We'd been driving her for naps which worked so beautifully, it was difficult to give up despite the fact that at times it was a hassle and a total waste of gas. Though the concept of "waste" is relative, since on most days the cost of an extra gallon or two was more than worth 2 hours of mid-day respite. But I started to feel guilty about the extra driving, and with winter coming on, it just became impractical to think of continuing to drive her in inclement weather, or attempting to transfer her from warm car to house on butt-ass cold, windy days. So we gave it up. My thinking was that either that would be it, or she would learn to fall asleep in the afternoon when we did some marathon book reading sessions in bed, which was certainly my preferred route. But not Raelin's. She troops on through the day, slogging past the witching hours of 3pm when i am practically falling asleep playing farm animals and becomes more and more clingy just as I am needing space and time to make dinner.

But anyway...we eat early and aim to get her into the tub for her nightly bath by 6pm. She happily runs to the bath and chats animatedly through bubbles and various aqua animal parades and whatnot. But it almost never fails (especially when i'm on tub duty, which i am not usually) that some seemingly miniscule action triggers complete and total meltdown, and then it is kevin and i exchanging looks of, "what the fuck happened?" while trying not to laugh at her crestfallen face and quivering lips carrying on and on about the fact that *she* wanted to put the animals back in the bucket, or no she doesn't *want* a night-time diaper right now. That was tonight's fiasco.

Can't remember if the tears started in or out of the tub. I think she was still in it. Trying to remain firm but calm (as often these things can be complete ploys...I don't subscribe to the manipulation camp but I do know that Raelin's drama streak can get the best of her) I plucked her out of the tub, got her night-time diaper together (thicker, more absorbant than regular ones) and managed to coerce her into willingly picking out her own jammmies for bed. Ok, we more or less had our wits together when the bottom dropped out again becaus apparently *she* wanted to carry the diaper to the livingroom and i picked it up. Ok- take care routine- I carry her and the diaper and the jammies to the livingroom. Major meltdown begins. Apparently she is trying to communicate something critcal to us through her sobs which is lost on both of us. I hear "diaper closet" over and over.

The next 25 minutes or so involve: changing into a regular diaper because she needs to poop and won't poop in the nighttime diaper, talking about the fact that sometimes just because we need to go does not mean we actually will, a timer, holding onto me for dear life in the bathroom while continually insisting that she needs to poop, and then finally making it into the livingroom (still no poop) but triumphantly with a jammie shirt on. We calm down through our nighttime nursing session (brief, but still does wonders) and just as we are about to slide back down the slippery slope of the elusive poop, Kevin scoops her up and tells her a story in a hushed voice about pooping. Daddy to the rescue- she consents to changing back into her nighttime diaper, manages to give the cat a loving pet rather than a swift kick in the head, and i get an equally sweet kiss goodnight.

Good lord.

A few weeks ago at a midwife appointment, we spent a good 20 minutes talking to our midwives about how something had changed with Raelin. The sweet, easy 2 year old had been taken over by a 3 headed 2 1/2 year old monster who is more eratic than a bipolar schizophrenic. They nodded sympathetically and lent us a book called "Your Two Year Old: Terrible, or Tender?" The book was written in the 70's and while it is right on, it is also hysterical. It has the tone of a Discovery Channel African Safari documentary, talking about your toddler like it's some species to be weary of. And indeed, on nights like tonight, she is. Such phrases as "Do approach your todder in such and such a way and NEVER say blah blah and notice how your toddler...." etc... Apparently the 1/2 ages are all times of disequilibrium which is so heartening. Just as you are feeling level again around the 3rd birthday, you know that chaos is looming on the horizon 6 months hence.

Lucky for us, in her more even times of day, Realin continues to be charming, fun, and (unless you are touching something she suddenly feels divine ownership of) amiable.

But don't you dare rest your foot on her chair.

2005-12-30T17:22:00.000-08:00

I know... I know... I've been a lame blogger. I can't help it. It's the sluggishness of pregnancy.

When I was pregnant with Raelin, I assumed that my mere fertility would have me spouting deep, inspired prose in my journal day after day...relishing in the life growing witthin me.

Not.

I think i journalled maybe twice. And I have been a voracious journaller most of my life. As in, i have a box that contains my journals dating back easily to 5th grade. So, I was kind of disappointed in my lack of creativity and drive to document such an important life event. And it appears that it's happening again... an important life event that i am less than motivated to record. And this being our second child... well, lets just say the ultrasound pictures were left in the car for over a week. I mean, who has the time?

Has the baby shows signs of life today? check. ok, now, onto dinner plans.....

I don't mean to sound so cavalier as to give off the impression that i am not invested or excited about this baby. Indeed, I am. We are. But second time around it's just... different. You'd think I'd have done this at least a dozen times before given my lack of real focused attention on this. At this point in my pregnancy with Raelin, I could have told you what specific cells were developing this week, so entrenched in baby growing literature i was.

And this time? well, if i can remember what week i'm at exactly, i could fathom a guess simply from memory, but not because i have actually cracked any kind of pregnancy book.

This pregnancy is all about understanding the reality of bringing another *person* into our home, complete with its own personality, quirks, and charms that will change our lives and family dynamic. With Raelin well... lets just say that once i got over the shock that indeed i had given birth to a live baby- *then* reality set in. Before that I was rather fixated on my ballooning midsection and the inevitablity of fitting a small person through my quite a bit smaller yoni.

So, yeah, we're a bit wiser this time around. Which is one reason why I was really hoping that we could discover the gender at our ultrasound- i wanna know who's moving in, dammit! But, no dice, as many of you have discovered from reading kevmos' update. This baby had legs locked up tight and was giving nothing away. Darn thing picked up on our indecision and went with it!! They are too smart, even in utero.

But on with other news.

I am now 30. Yes, that's right. Passed through the ole 30 gate with flying colors. Had a smashing party with kids and adults of all ages, mostly sprawled out on our floor, gnoshing on homemade yummies and appropriately oooohhing and ahhhing over the lovely cakes (yes! 2!) kevin made for me. It was a perfect way to pass into the new decade, and i was so touched that so many of our new friends came because really, we don't know these people all that well! I mean, we know them, but its not like we've been hanging out for years. Some of them are friendships only a few months old, so it was a great testament to the building of our community. and the ability of our house to host a party.

and now its into the belly of winter. no doubt, like last year, i will manage to summon the motivation to bitch and kvetch in about 5 or 6 weeks about how going through winter is like climbing a mountain with false peaks and blah, blah, blah and you can feel free to skip it. or, i'll just say "see archive" and you can read last year's kvetch and it will more or less cover the current state. But as winter as more or less just started, i'm willing and ready for some snow and a few walks on the ice that has yet to freeze over yet. I got a baby to grow and winter is as good a time as any to do it. When I planted our tulip bulbs in the fall, i thought that when we see the little green shoots, our little nutkin will be about ready to break hibernation. It's a nice thing to look forward to... even if my yoni will be stretched to all hell.

J.Cruel.com

2005-11-18T16:10:00.000-08:00

Ok, i'm turning my blog into a temporary soapbox.

Stop buying J.Crew.
And in fact, if you haven't already sworn off buying any fur- even trim- whatsoever, do so now.
I couldn't watch the video on this site, but just the description of it makes me beyond ill.

www.jcruel.com

bellies and giraffes

2005-11-16T16:21:00.000-08:00

There's not anything all that exciting to report... you know, the usual: trying for the (gazillionth) time to hit on the magic solution that will change Raelin from pet-torturing toddler to gentle, cause-and-effect-understanding toddler...uh... yeah. I guess that's the usual on tonight's docket.

Our friends who are making their home on the road have launched from our driveway after a fun, 5 week hiatus here on the shores of Chickawaukie. The house is (relatively) quiet again with the daily meanderings of just 3 Callahans and I quite happily washed away the grime from our floors after 5 weeks of 5 people (plus the many, many weeks of 3 people that proceeded it). There is nothing so satisfying as clean floors. Not quite enough to inspire me to do it more than quarterly, but enough so that it remains a rather pleasant chore.

The nutkin appears to be growing quite nicely, as my belly continues to protrude. God(dess) Bless my friend Cara who bequeathed to me (on loan) a couple pairs of uber-chic maternity jeans. Probably about the hippest articles of clothing i've ever owned in my life and what better time to wear them when you are in the midst of a good 40 pound weight gain? I love friends with good fashion taste and enough zen unattachment to understand that they will be returned with a good 6 months of toddler-chasing wear on them.

Also in the preggy news... we attended our first Bellies and Babies potluck at our midwives' home. Our midwives are.... well, wives, and host monthly get-togethers for their new and expecting parents. Its quite a lovely affair in their woods-surrounded, solar powered home; the kitchen island laden with wholesome and delectable goodies, both for the main meal and the sugar round-up to finish us all off right. Children of various ages cavort around while newborns are danced and rocked to begged to last just a little bit longer while the new parents get some much needed social time. a good time is had by all and it happens in the woods in random rural Maine. Gotta love it. One of the coolest things about this is the contrast between this interaction and what we experienced with our midwives in Santa Cruz- who we loved, BUT in one of the various informational leaflets they sent home with us as Raelin's due date was imminent was the reminder that, "you get to keep the baby... not the midwife." Now, I understand where this sentiment came from. When you experience an intense life event such as giving birth, the people who were there become like instant blood relations- you've shared something extrordinary and unique with them, never to be repeated. Shortly after Raelin's birth Kevin suggested the (far-fetched) idea of returning to Santa Cruz to have our second child, just so we could use Kate and Roxanne again. Yes, attached we were. But, instead we moved to Maine and took Raelin with us and left them behind, never to hear from them or contact them again. But here we have new, great midwives who not only value those intense experiences, but build relationships out of them. Too cool.

Just received an invitation to the first of what will become monthly winter potlucks. Themed and with prizes, our first charge is "Garlic Extravaganza... what feeds your passion?" Looking forward to that plus the other creative prompts on the docket. Community occurs here, and its nice to be included. Kevmo garumphed about this cause he has a bad attitude tonight. I sent him to bed with instructions to wake up with an adjustment :)

and... i dunno. thanksgiving is rapidly approaching. raelin and i will head southwest to my dad's while kevin flies out to meet the rest of his family in vancouver to celebrate his uncle graduating with Phd. This will be our first holiday apart in I don't know how long, so I am not particularly looking forward to that. But then we gear up for Christmas, which I know elicits a groan from many people, but I am one of those sadistic elf-types who loves it so I'm all ready. I even have worthy home-made gifts this year that i am particularly pleased with.

so, that's the round up. xz and bartlebee are on safari which i am *so* jealous of, as the closest I get to giraffes and lions is playing with their small, plastic namesakes with Raelin. Not really all that satisfying in the grand scheme of things, so I anxiously await their news.

alrighty... that's all then.

The thing about 2....

2005-11-02T15:36:00.000-08:00

Raelin has pretty much taken this whole new baby thing in stride. In fact, she hardly even blinked when i told her that i had a baby in my belly. I explained that it would get bigger and at some point she would be able to feel it move. Uh huh... yup.... Read me a book, Mommy? Was about the extent of the conversation.

Now, I dont' know about you, but this gives me pause. A 2 year old accepts without question that i have a baby in my body. This is a kid who wants to know what everything is (blissfully, we have not reached the "why?" stage yet.) She knows about babies... she loves them. So, it's not like she is mistaking me saying "baby" for say.... a poop that will need to come out at some point today (a subject that she is intimately familiar with). No, she is quite cognizant that I am talking about another person.

Wouldn't you think that if you told someone who had no prior knowledge of baby-making in any way, shape, or form that you had another person inside you, that it might drum up a question or two? or disbelief? I mean, I've made, grown, and birthed a baby and it still gives me the heebeegeebies sometimes. I'm sorry People, but it's just weird. We're all kind of numbed out to it because it happens everyday, but it's straight outta Sci-Fi as far as I'm concerned.

But not if you're 2. If you're 2, the world is a very different place. Take Brooke and Angus and Gus, for example. Now, if you're read Kevmo's blog, then you know who I'm talking about. For those who have been there recently, I'll fill you in. About a month or so ago Raelin casually mentioned that Brooke and Angus wanted to color with us. Um, ok... I said and held out my hands to receive them in an obvious hand-off. We'd been hearing about a few "others" recently, so I wasn't all that surprised. The others had come and gone within a day, but Brooke, and Angus and now Gus became permanant fixtures in the house- that is, until Kevmo and I royally screwed up and left them in a mouse house on the George's Highland Path. Even when Kevin returned with Raelin to pick them up, they have been a bit reclusive, only turning up for special occasions and now apparently our little nutkin can teleport him or herself out to play with them as well. The other day Raelin mentioned that Brooke and Angus and Gus and the baby were all joining her for something-or-other. Excellent. The sooner we get those two bonding, the better, I figure.

So, yeah, 2 is different. It is at once utterly accepting and unquestioning and in another instance, completely manic... but that's another story.... or 100....

Cooperate is the magic number...

2005-10-13T08:03:00.000-07:00

raelin and i are in a bit of a stand off about what cooperate means. she's currently babbling, bottomless, from our bedroom at the end of the hall. i periodically call down and ask if she is ready to cooperate and put on her diaper. yes! is the emphatic answer. i go to meet her on the bed where she is bouncing on the bed. I ask her to lay down on the diaper that is spread out on the bed. She continues bouncing. I remind her that she told me she was ready to cooperate. She grins and continues bouncing. When i grab her mid-air and attempt to help her into the proper diapering position, she emits a noise that is not unlike Gollum on helium, and thus I release her and return to the livingroom and this blog.

Repeat.

At one time i thought that Raelin would never fall asleep on her own and we'd still be driving, rocking, and singing her to sleep as a teenager. (of course, she'd sleep until noon once she finally fell asleep). These days, she snuggles in beside either one of us and drifts off like some fairy tale princess. Who would have thought? So I suppose coming around to diaper cooperation is somewhere in the future.... somewhere... out there.....

new nutkin

2005-09-28T07:37:00.000-07:00

in the past 5 weeks i have: travelled over 6,000 miles, watched 2 of my best friends get married in unique and beautiful weddings, learned how to give a lap dance, taken part in about the best all-girl conversation on the planet, and made a new baby.

how's that for an agenda?

yes, as most of you know, we are expecting a new nutkin sometime in May or whenever it deems appropriate to brave the great canal. Raelin can affirm that right now it is very tiny and it will come out of mommy's yoni. upon seeing a cartoon drawing of a cesearean section, she emphatically stated that she does not want them to cut open mommy's tummy to get the baby. Amen to that! see, she's a natural birth advocate already.

maine is positively lovely right now, gentle Fall playing you like a violin until winter crashes the party. but that's ok, i'm feeling pretty done with summer. eating like i'm done with summer too... it's all about the bread and carbs for this incubator as i ward off the feelings of deep hunger and car-sickness queasiness that simultaneously envelope me throughout the day. i don't think i've ever eaten this unbalanced in my life... all hail my midwife who gave me the big green light on comfort foods.

fickle

2005-08-08T17:50:00.000-07:00

Raelin has this thing where upon reuniting with me after i've been gone, she takes one look, stifles her initial smile and says, "Don't want to see Mommeeee......." sometime she turns and walks away. Other times she folds her arms across her chest and stares me down. Other times she just turns her back to me.

It's tough to stifle a smile, but i feel like i need to take her seriously despite the fact that within 10 seconds she's tearing across the room and into my arms with a sunshine-smile saying, "Mommy! want to see Mama!" and offers large and irresistible hugs.

Occasionally this happens without me actually leaving.

Today after her nap i was nursing her on the couch. Because we're on a slow road to weaning, i stopper her after just a few minutes. she sat up. "Don't want to see Mama." Small, chubby arms folded neatly in her lap and she turned her head away, just enough so i could see her profile. She scanned the room nochalantly, not unlike someone in an elevator with another person they are trying to avoid making eye contact with. She all but started whistling.

After an appropriate amount of time had past (say, 10 seconds) she faced me again, beaming. "Mama!" and fell against me.

I wonder, how does she know when it's time? Divine Toddler Intuition I guess... perhaps the same feeling that pulls her compulsively toward that one extra Cheerio under the car mat. In any case, if this keeps up, her boyfriends (or girlfriends) are in for it....

Ewwwwww! with a capital E

2005-08-02T10:13:00.000-07:00

So yesterday i had a few solo moments after sending off kevmo's mountain bike that he will never ride and decided to drop into Goodwill for a bit of scrounging. I'm a proponent of buying used when possible, especially since so many people buy tons of new clothes and then ship them off when they're done.

i found a couple of pants that might work, so went to try them on. The first pair didn't fit; so i moved on to the second. Just as i was about to pull them up, i noticed something on the inside seam of the crotch. I looked a bit closer.

Is it glue? Were they trying to glue a rip in the seam?

Upon (unfortunately) closer inspection (no hands though!) I realized that no, that (also unfortunately) was not the case.

The previous owner had simply not worn underwear.

Ack!! Ewwww!!! *&($#(*#$!

I nearly ripped the pants trying to get them off fast enough.

Now ok... its cool and all not to wear underwear BUT NOT WHEN YOU ARE GIVING THE PANTS AWAY. Where is common decency? I mean, and if you're a little leaky in whatever manner, than damn woman, underwear and pantyliners are around in abundant supply!

Needless to say, i'm not feeling too good about the 'Will anymore. I'll be hitting the Freeport outlets this weekend for some untainted threads. I got enough heebeegeebies from that experience to haunt me for some time.

booberries

2005-07-31T11:01:00.000-07:00

For the past 3 days Beech Hill Preserve has had open picking of their blueberry fields from 8am-1pm. The first day i got there on a whim when I called my friend Cara to see if she and her daughter wanted to accompany R and I to the park. She countered with a blueberry picking invitation and i couldn't very well turn that down, could i?

If you haven't read _Blueberries for Sal_ by Robert McCloskey (who also wrote _Make Way for Ducklings_) you really must. It is a super sweet story of a little girl and her mother who go to pick blueberries at the same time a young bear and his mother go to eat up for the winter. The kids lose their moms and find the opposite moms and eventually get it all straightened out. It's a great story, and one of R's favorites. We eat blueberries off the page and feed them to Reggie. It's quite fun.

anyway, I figured R would be all excited to live out Blueberries for Sal for real, and she was for about 10 minutes. Then she wanted to wander far, far away. I managed to keep her in my reach for about an hour before the sun and my full buckets made us pack it up. That night i made a scrumptious (if i do say so myself) pie and we brought it over to my mom's to share with her and my stepdad and his older grandaughter.

note: blueberry pie and ice cream before bed do not a happy to bed toddler make.

I went back the next morning to pick alone with my friend and was quite a bit more productive. There was something incredibly calming and peaceful about sitting on the side of a hill, rolling plump blue berries off the vines and into my bucket. Kind of Zen meets Norman Rockwell....

back at 'cha

2005-07-26T18:44:00.000-07:00

it's me again. you may have noticed that i am updating this blog quite a bit more frequently. my first reason is that it has come to my attention (not for the first time) that i tend to start new endeavors with gusto and then peter out after the initial excitement and motivation tarnishes. in an effort to try something new and different and perhaps stick with something, I have decided to put in a more dedicated effort. i hope you are pleased.

oh. and bartlebee needs some procrastination material, so there's a bit of obligation here too :)

it's late and I would really like to get to bed, but i felt the need to communicate a couple things.

first off, i had a mini-insight tonight in relation to the previous post about the mommy conundrum. I came to this conclusion after reading a particular post on another blog, Opinionista, a site that i found via Waiter Rant and also recommended by bartlebee. I read it a couple of times, awhile back and then never found my way back. In a recent post, Waiter Rant recommended this piece of hers about women and work.

Now, it's hard for me only to respond to one aspect of this because much of it cries out for some discussion, in my opinionista way. But, since it is almost 10 and i'm one of those women who has left my career for the dregs of home I have to get to bed soon, so I'll be brief.

Her post made me realize that part of my longings for the "other" life stem from the fact that in order to be a "good" feminist (whatever that is) I am supposed to feel that way. If i gave up (or even took a long family-raising break) from a line of work that i enjoyed and was challenging (though i'm not sure she would approve of teaching since it's a primarily female occupation anyway and doesn't really advance the cause of women, even if you encourage your female students to pursue their dreams- but nevermind that point) and- God Forbid- enjoy being at home and not working and thus earning my own money, than I am somehow erasing all of the sweat, tears, and sacrifices of my fore-mothers.

Bull-shit.

I'm sorry, but I am so sick of the requirements for being, or not being, a feminist. Now, I understand that the majority of her post was about women leaving their careers to be taken care of by a man, preferably a rich one, and Opinionista sees these men as lame and neaderthal. Fine, I can live with that. But- isn't it tragic when any woman marries a lame and neanderthal man? Why just the supposedly ambition, glass-ceiling breaking privileged ones? It's just another cause of feminism being about upper-middle class white women.

I hate that.

The whole mommy-career wars are old. And so are the judgements about other people's choices. But I guess I bought into it. I bought into the cultural conception that what I am doing is not enough. But you know what? I bet every working woman is thinking the same thing- whether it's because she decided not to have a family, or because she is choosing to be single, or because she is living in a gold cave with her rich neanderthal... I mean, the list goes on. Let's get out of the old feminism rut and start with some humanism and a bit more revolution on the foundation of our society which basically sends that message that You, as a person, are not enough.

So now I get it. I guess I found some of that internal water after all.

Hmmm...I guess I couldn't not address the whole post, huh?

Ok, on a different note, the second thing I wanted to communicate is a full-on brag about my daughter who is showing some Dj leanings and some pretty amazing recognition skills.

For various reasons, our CD-Rs of MP3s have migrated from an over-the-visor respectable organizer into a shallow, Ziploc reusable container. Raelin has taken to playing with the CDs and to make a long story short, she now- from the backseat- hands us the CDs she wants us to play.

It gets better.

She can distinguish between identical CD-Rs, which are hers with the kid music, and which are ours ("No kid songs"). There are several that are the same color, with the only difference really being what is written on them. She isn't reading them, but clearly she has a way of recognizing them and is never wrong. It's mind boggling. I spend my entire drive ejecting and playing, and skipping to requested songs from my 2 year old.

There's a Dj ROCA (Raelin Ocean Callahan) in the house... and it's been over a year since her last rave!

Makes a parent proud :)

vicarious

2005-07-24T19:15:00.000-07:00

Raelin and I returned this afternoon from an quick overnight trip to Bar Harbor, of Acadia National Park fame. A good friend of mine who I have known since middle school (well, actually, I think we may have even met as early as 3rd grade but a friendship didn't actually begin until highschool) is spending a month there at the College of the Atlantic. COA is a small (as in a couple hundren undergrads) private college where the only degree offered is Human Ecology. Sounds limiting until you check out one of the potential dorm rooms- in the corner of a huge home on the ocean's edge with 2 outside walls of windows overlooking a most breathtaking view. One could make some academic sacrifices for such accomodations.

My friend is there participating in a couple of teaching workshops as a result of a grant from a large teaching endowment. These past 2 weeks she spent learning about geology and cruising around Acadia, in addition to cultivating a (potential!) new romance and doing some incredible rock climbing in the park. You thought climbing on ocean cliffs was as far as Thailand? Not so- the thick, chunky verticle Otter Cliffs offer a pretty amazing stateside alternative.

Not that I'm doing any climbing, or will be any time soon. Sigh.

It is always interesting and fun to visit with this particular friend, because our lives are *so* different. She is single- mostly- living in a city with a vibrant and well-knit social life. She took up climbing a few years ago and now makes a practice of going at least a couple times a week in the city and outdoors as often as she can in New Hampshire (her abs prove it). She teaches in a great, social-justice focused school with a diverse population and is quickly becoming a respected senior teacher. I listen wistfully to her adventures and dependent-free lifestyle and try to snuff out the glimmer of envy that starts to burn within me.

It's the mother conundrum.

There's no fixing it or changing it or even a strong desire to do so. It's simply the unavoidable reality that That is not my life, as enticing as it may be. And it isn't even necessarily *her* life- though I would love to be climbing regularly and have the opportunity to teach at progressive school- but those seemingly endless hours of indulging oneself in... oneself- and not someone else.

I adore my daughter and my husband and in many moments, both long and short, the daily ins and outs of being a stay-at-home-mom. I have let go of the intense need to be productive that plagued my first year of motherhood and have slid quite comfortably into the rhythm of days that are not punctuated by alarm clocks and deadlines, but making a worthwhile appearance at a playgroup and getting through the day, with lots of play and a few loads of laundry inbetween. Perhaps I have even swung a bit far on the pendulum of productivity, because certainly my house could use a bit more producing- like, producing a few more clean surfaces. But, whatever. Clean is ephemeral.

No, the thing about spending time with a friend like this reveals more of the career vs. home issues (one that will most likely never go away). Especially since the more I am home and away from a regular 'job' the less likely I am sure I even want one, though I still envision myself teaching and want to achieve some competency at a chosen line of work at some point in my life. Being that I am 5 months from 30 and there's no imminent disaster, I have some time. But I am an endless seeker of new opportunities and am fickle- drawn to many paths, but pretty unfaithful to the finish. This applies to household chores and finishing drinks as well.

That's the thing about parenting. Fickle is not an option. It's good for me. Maybe my wistfulness of my friends life are because that's my out, my imaginary out, from a thing that I cannot leave. It's like People magazine. It's such a silly brain drain, but I browse it voraciously in the store and occasionally bring an issue home (that kevin reads as well, i might add). Do I really care about People? No. It's just fun- an escape. Do I really want to be back in the single life, looking for love with endless hours to myself? No. It's fun, but not nearly so satisfying as being Raelin's mom.

You would think that coming to this conclusion once would be enough. But it's not. It resurfaces in various forms, instigated by different experiences and interactions, kinda like trick candles. They always come back. Someday I'll find the internal water to just drown them out.

At a midwife (for an annual exam people, I'm not pregnant) appointment a month or so ago, she said something quite off-hand, but quite wise to me. She said, there is no point in your life when it is ever the same as another point, is it? can you ever remember reflecting on your life and thinking, wow, this is just like it was 3 years ago! it's always different, so there' s no point in pining away for past times.

too true.

midsummer night

2005-07-22T16:40:00.000-07:00

A word to the wise: having animals and small children at the same time will drive you insane.

When you and your other are pre-children, taking care of your animals is second nature. They are, after all, your first children. Of course you respond to their barks and meows most promptly and take care of them properly. Add a small human to the mix and well...

last night I didnt' get much sleep. Jasmine has this thing about the wind. Actually, Jasmine has a thing about most things. She has issues. Not that one can blame her, I mean, she was abandoned as a puppy and left for dead but she's like 42 in dog years now. Don't our last 4 years of steady care for her equal canine therapy? If we haven't let the wind get her yet, it's unlikely it will happen. Those I suppose uprooting her from #1 to #2 after Raelin arrived was a bit jarring, to say the least.

But i digress.

So, she has a thing about the wind. If our windows are open at night and there's a breeze (thank god, because it's been non-stop hot here) she hangs out by (my, i might add) side of the bed and pants. and pants. and clicks and shifts her claws on the hardwood and pants some more. Excessive commands to lay down only intensify the shuffling. So, swearing profusely, I close the window and throw off the covers. ( i need covers, regardless of the heat. even a sheet will do. it's a thing with me.) so Jasmine finally calms down and then Raelin wakes up. I'm on night duty now since kevin has been working like 25 hours a day. so i go and pat her back and she goes back to sleep. i return to bed.

i notice that jasmine is not in the room and figure that perhaps she got a burst of courage and is actually lying down by herself in the living room. i fall asleep.

I wake up abruptly to the sound of Jasmine barking. outside. ugh! fucking dog!

She is not in the living room. her burst was not of courage but of mischief. She went down to the basement and nosed open the slider. I stumble outside, in the buff, and whistle several times. Nothing. I hiss her name. Nothing. Swearing more, i thump to the basement and call her name and whistle out the slider. Crashing throught the woods. Yes, that would be her. I whistle a few more times. By the time she is in my line of sight, she is slinking. i all but kick her through the door. She follows (I can practically feel the satisfaction of her midnight romp) obediently and collapses on her bed.

It's 2:30. I manage to fall back asleep.

Oh, and have i mentioned that my husband is a gimp and so through all of this he is in bed with his foot elevated?

Raelin wakes up again. i trudge to her room with my pillow and crawl into bed with her, or rather around her since she's lying horizontal.

Just as i am falling asleep, the other starts. Not jasmine- reggie. Meowing- loudly, beseechingly- from the now shut basement door.

Fucking cat!!!

I get up to let him in. He doesn't want to be let in, he wants to be fed and the crumbs from the afternoon snack are not good enough. I shake some kibble into his dish and shut the door.

As long as I am up- now at 3:30- I drink some water before going back to bed. I manage to sleep about an hour and a half before Raelin begins to stir and begins the morning nursing marathon that allows me to doze to the blessed hour of 6 am when she starts dragging toys and books to the bed and suggesting that i get up and make pancakes.

I am still doing the dishes from dinner when a nurse from our insurance agency knocks on the door- 30 minutes early, i might add- at 6:20 am to get blood draws from kevin and i.

the animals continue to sleep, crashed out on the livingroom floor.

Crazy shit...

2005-07-21T18:43:00.000-07:00

I just found this link http://www.postsecret.blogspot.com/

nuts.

Developments

2005-06-23T17:41:00.000-07:00

First off, I'd like to thank those of you who continue to check and read this ambling, sorry ass blog. i've been slacking a fair bit. Course, it's summer in Maine and if it's sunny I'm outside or feeling guilty that I'm not outside in which case I should be doing something productive, like checking the online weather service to see when the next sun will be coming to a square foot near me. That kind of thing.

Summer. It's here. It's kicking ass. The lupines are in full, stunning bloom and the forests are dizzying green. We took our first canoe paddle on the lake last evening and watched two blue herons on the shore. Despite her protests, ("Don't wanna go in the canoe.. no... no canoe... yes... canoe") Raelin loved it. Yup, this is the time of year when you remember why you left places that are temperate year round. Raelin and I wander down to the lake, stopping to pick buttercups and bushwhack just enough off the path so it's over her head and exciting, but not so far that one step doesn't put her back on mowed grass. We follow butterflies and plunk our butts down to watch the dogs leap and romp their way to the lake. We duck as they race back to us, slack lips flapping in the breeze.

Since Raelin has turned two, she's become quite mature. She plays for longer periods of time by herself, often singing bits of various tunes as she busies (is that a word?) herself doing various toddler tasks that are hard to describe except for the ones that are easily identifiable, like making muffins in her kitchen. She strides over to me purposefully and proclaims, "Muffin for Mama!" and places in my hand one clammy black bean. I thank her profusely and comence loud chomping noises. Grinning madly, she hurries to put in another batch. Toddlers, you gotta love 'em. More and more fun by the day, she pushes boundaries one minute and then croons, "I love you! " the next. It's maddening.... maddeningly wonderful.

In other developments.... I'm feeling less like a tool on the soccer field and started taking a class at the Y with the most phenomenal physical instructor I've ever come across. I took one of her classes the first year we were here. Entitled "Expect to Sweat" I think a more apt term would be, "Expect to Sweat... and Drown." This class, "High Intensity Training" is no less enticing. I think we easily drop to do at least 50 push-ups in various configurations throughout the hour. The woman- Kimberly- is a frigging rock. She's also sweet, spirited, and kicks our asses. I love it. (though, not the part where I start to slide on the floor trying to do push-ups because of all the sweat that has dripped. that's kinda gross.)

I attended a really nice full moon, Solstice women's circle the other night. Great vibes... really down to earth and open people. Nice to be out doing a ritual in nature again. We did a little thing at the end where we released something we wanted to let go of. I decided to let go of obsessing. I mean, it's time. Obsessing gets me no where. It's pure mind-fucking, and not very a very good one at that. So- rational contemplation is ok. Obsessing, not ok.

Our young, fluffy chicks are sporting full, real chicken feathers! While they are losing their baby cuteness, they are still just too comical for words and so remain endearing. Supposedly I am building them an outdoor house on wheels this weekend. A chicken tractor, they call it. Huh.

Well, that's about the scoop from our neck of the woods.

It's summertime, and the living is easy...

Over and out.

Ladies and Gentlemen please fasten your pants... i mean, seatbelts

2005-06-14T18:17:00.000-07:00

Move over, Southwest. Have you checked the fares at HootersAir?

Maybe I'm waaaaay out of it here on the coast of Maine, but since when did the boob restaurant become the latest option in airlines?

Gives new meaning to flying the friendly skies....

Beginner's Mind

2005-05-19T19:04:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been awhile since I've had something worthy to blog about.. that is, something new and different. But this week, something new and different happened.

I joined a soccer team.

Seriously.

Ok, think of "team" rather loosely; like, in terms of a bunch of women from their twenties to forties, most of whom have kids and exert themselves more from running after toddlers than logging the miles on the roads. But nevertheless, we are a team, of sorts.

I've been hankering to play a sports-like game with other women for a while now. I was too late in the know to join the hockey team (but I have my sites on it for winter 2006!!) and found out about this soccer thing. Now, I have only played soccer a couple of times in my life. We're talking junior high gym class and when I was in Guatemala and we spent the night in a small village while backpacking to a lake. Apparently the locals looked forward to the gringos showing up so they could whip our butts in a match. It was good cross-cultural fun, but certainly no suprises on who was putting in the most goals.

Anyway, as a junior high student when faced with the options for fall sports, I was intimidated by all the cool girls who had been playing soccer since they were 3 and opted for field hockey. Later i dissed the team thing all together and joined cross-country team. Much, much more fun. Until I found Ultimate in college and well... that was great except i couldn't keep up with the partying. But, back to me playing soccer.

I was assurred that this team was for everyone, old highschool stars and newbies alike. And though i was one of the few without cleats, shin guards and my own ball, I wasn't the only one who was passing the balls several degrees away from my target. We have a coach- an actual coach! And I had to laugh when he directed us to take a warm up lap. Um, *a* warm up lap? what happened to 5 laps, or a mile? Over lunges and stretches he encouraged us to be gentle, back off if it started to burn. I looked around with a grin. Yup, we aren't spring chickens anymore. I haven't even turned 30 and I'm being told to take it gentle!!

But gentle is right up my alley these days. While appreciative whistles and glances of appreciation followed those who brought some skills to the field, there was a greater abundance of laughter and "sorry!" that filled the air as balls missed their targets and we fudged drill after drill. A dad on solo duty for the night pulled up with 2 little girls in a red wagon to cheer mom on. How cool is that?

This is the perfect intro to soccer for me, and though I let about a gazillion goals get past my defensive stance during the scrimmage, I kept reminding myself to just be in beginner's mind. It's a game, I'm out to have fun. And, to learn new skills and perhaps get over the stupid self-talk that kept me from joining soccer 15 years ago. I feel a bit humbled, but more appreciative of the company of women I'm in, and to just *play.*

The beeder is on!

2005-04-19T16:24:00.000-07:00

Oh boy... it is not too often that I am crying at the dinner table, but tonight I practially needed tissues. Raelin was entertaining us in rare form; my belly still hurts from laughing.

Dinner is a bit of musical chairs for Raelin...she deftly and confidently leaps from her HelloChair (aka High Chair) which is one of those wooden, restaurant style ones, into my lap, plunges her fingers into my food and then wriggles down to go torment the dogs. This week we have dogs plural, as we're dog sitting my mom and Charles' yellow lab, Sandy. Tonight after variations on this routine and eating a carrot here, a carrot there, she pushed her Hello Chair up to our telephone table. Raelin loves the telephone. She frequently can be seen making various phone calls to far away places that require at last 25 digits to dial. The other day she called the YMCA to see if the pool was open. Holding the phone to her ear and cocking her head thoughtfully to the side, she said into the receiver, "Calling the pool open.... calling the pool open..." it took about 10 minutes and no definitive answer was reached.

Anyway, so tonight she makes a few calls and then discovers the button on the cradle of the phone that helps you find the lost receivers. You know, you push it and the cordless phone beeps and you go find it. I use this reguarly and unearth receivers from under the couch cushions and whatnot. Raelin pushes the button. It beeps. She looks at us a bit incredulously. We nod, perhaps too encouragingly.

"Yes, you pushed the beeper."
"The beeder!" she exclaims. Another push and the beeper is off.
"Great, raelin, you turned it off!" We praise, approvingly. She smiles and nods and pushes again.

"Beeder! Beeder is on!" She pushes it off. "Beeder turning off... " push. "beeder on!"

For the next 10 minutes, she pushes the beeder on, listens appreciatively and announces emphatically, "beeder is on!" Sometime the beeder stays on for a good 30 seconds or so before she either "finds" the phone, or pushes the beeder button off. After about 3 minutes of this, I am laughing hysterically at what this scene looks like from the outside: a normal family, a normal dinner, a normal toddler, and the beeder. On, and off. On and off. On... and she sings a round of "The Grand Old Duke of York" above the incessant beeping, seemingly oblivious to Kevin and I hunched over our risotto, shaking with laughter. Finally she pushes it off and Kevin takes the opportunity to suggest a tubby. Luckily, the tubby is highly anticipated and she goes willingly, leaving the beeder behind.

Getting her hair washed was not done so willingly, and unfortunately does not make a funny story.

A book I orderd, _The Emotional Life of the Toddler_ arrived today. Yes, the emotional life of a toddler is a complex one that requires some reading and studying up. I have a feeling that "beeder" will not be in the index however.

April 4th

2005-04-04T09:27:00.000-07:00

This morning I found myself wide awake at 4:00 am. Not unusual, as this is when Raelin hits the wall and ceases falling asleep to Kevin's voice and needs her deedees (aka nursing). Her room was still silent though, and i was unable to get back to sleep. My mind wandering, I started thinking about my friend Jake. Various memories flitted through my brain and I wondered why they were visiting my now. It's amazing how organized our subconscious is. Today is April 4th, and the 9 year anniversary of his death.

April 4th 1996 was just a few days after spring break. I had moved into a new apartment on campus, conveniently located one floor above Jake's apartment. I awoke startled to pounding on the door just before 8 am. I knew Jake had an 8 am class, and being a straight-out goof ball, it was not out of the realm of possibility that he would come haul me out of bed for coffee before class. A goofy smile on my face, but a little apprehensive cause pounding was a bit out of character, I ran to the door hoping my new room mates wouldn't be woken up. I wasn't prepared to see Kate, Jake's roommate, standing on the other side of the door. I wasn't prepared for her to avoid my eyes and ask for Kristen, my room mate and building RA. I wasn't prepared for the shakiness in her voice and her refusal to answer my question, "What's going on? Where's Jake? Is this about Jake?" Kristen stumbled to the door and Kate grabbed her hand and led her downstairs. I followed, my heart pounding, an odd lump rising in my throat.

The apartment door was open, paramedics were walking in and out of Jake's room. Matt, Jake's room mate sat on the couch, his head cradled in his hand. I sank into a chair, still a bit dumbfounded and frankly, in denial. The memories are like slides- the flash of the camera bouncing off the hallway walls. My brain frantically wondering what they might be photographing- drugs? did he have some weird reaction and they found his pot stash? kate huddled beside me on the chair, Kristen on the other side. Someone was whimpering. One of the paramedics came out of the bedroom and walked over to us. "I'm sorry...." he said. Next slide- the conscious cracking open of my heart as i leaned against Kristen, a woman I hardly knew, and cried.

It is actually easier to sift through the memories of that morning than the ones that proceed it- the hours spent in coffee shops, jogging, swimming laps at the pool, watching movies at the library, navigating our messy relationship that included one girl in love (me), one guy in denial (him), and his girlfriend, 3000 miles away (ironically in my homestate of Maine). We had sorted it out (or rather, sorted her out) just 10 days before his death. The finding of a soulmate is a rare thing, except perhaps the finding of 2, and I feel incredibly blessed that the one who couldn't stay, Jake, kindly made the introduction to me of one who could, Kevin. And then sent me a sweet, abandoned dog, jake (we'll use a little j) to make the transition that much easier. Though there is very little that is easy about accepting the unexpected still mysterious death of a 23 year old.

One of my best friends, Carmen, is Jake's sister. We didn't meet until a few days after Jake's death, though I had heard about her for months. Jake talked about her a lot, about how he wished we could meet, he wanted her to have a friend like me, he thought we would get along. He had some foresight about relationships, that one. In ways big and small, he has stayed present in my life, and for that I am deeply grateful.

Nine years is a long time. I've gotten married, started a family, moved across the country. At times my friendship with Carmen has felt like the primary relationship, but of course we are uniquely bonded through her brother. To wake up this morning to these memories is startling in some way, and I resisted crawling out of bed to write in real time the memories and thoughts that poured through. It's been a long time since I've reflected in writing, about Jake. And in many ways, it comforting to have such strong feelings after so long. One of the most painful things about grieving a loved one is when it gets easier... it seems contradictory, but I think most people who have lived through something similar would agree. Pain seems to bring them closer, it is palpable for something that is no longer able to be touched. So for today, I will take the flooding of emotions and memories that are often packed away. It's good to have my friend back, for awhile.

2005-04-03T10:27:00.000-07:00

Last night Kevin and I saw Richard Shindell in concert. If you haven't heard of Mr. Shindell and are a fan of truly eloquent song writing, excellent musicianship (is that a word?), and just all around great listening music, I suggest you check him out. We've listened to him for a couple of years... Kevin first heard one of his songs, "Cold Missouri Waters" - probably on KPIG when we were in Santa Cruz- and learned to play it. The song is really chilling (no pun intended, honestly) and i was always torn between wanting to hear it or defecting to a more uplifting tune in his repetoir. But then we got our hands on a disc he did with Dar Williams and Lucy Kaplansky called "Cry, Cry, Cry" and we were hooked. His 2002 live release, "Courier" was our cross-country soundtrack, especially fitting as many of the songs are ballands and stories about truckers on the long, long road.

Anyway, browsing the paper a couple of weeks ago, i noticed that he was lined up to play at the Waldo Theater in Waldoboro, Maine. Well... Waldoboro is a tiny town. Not the smallest of Maine towns, but it's the kind of place where you call up to reserve your tickets by just giving your name. No credit card to reserve. No picking them up in advance. Just "yup, the Callahans are coming." They pencil you in to the next available seats on the chart and you pay when you show up. Pretty cool. This was the first time we'd been there and we were pleased to discover that we were in the fourth row, but looking around at the, oh, maybe 15 rows total in the "orchestra" seating and the balcony just above our heads, it's obvious there really isn't a bad seat anywhere.

I wasn't sure what to expect... I like his music but his voice took a bit getting used to in repeated listening. It's really unique and doesn't really give away any of what the person might be like- but a live performance has made all the difference. After sitting through a tolerable opening act as opening acts go (a well meaning local guy who was just a bit trite and melodramatic for our tastes and had an unfortunate over production of sweat), Shindell came right out. And, well, he's great. Sweet and funny, confident on stage and intimate with the audience- it was a perfect venue to accentuate what a steller performer and artist he is. The stark contrast between his opening act who spelled it all out for you and Shindell's evocative, but subtle lyrics was amazing. So is the difference between a marginal and a high end guitar.

It's been so long since I've been to live music, I've forgotten what a treat it is, and how much I enjoy it; how important and powerful good, thought provoking and awe-inspiring artists and performers are to life and culture. What i like about Richard Shindell's music is that he lifts the stories and daily events that might otherwise get passed by and weaves them into beautiful, moving, and entertaining songs. It's so nice to walk away from a performance and feel so satisfied, savoring moments and songs and stories. Plus, it was a date with my sweetie, so it's tough to go wrong there ;)

Next weekend we're up to see the Battlefield Band, courtesy of my mom. I'll don my reviewers cap next Sunday and tell you how it goes. In the meantime, check out Richard Shindell if you like the folk thing... or, even if you don't.

2005-03-17T17:34:00.000-08:00

So, the other day I looked up and noticed a truck driving across the lake, followed by another truck. Crazy bastards, I thought, and went back to reading _Go, Dog, Go_.

* * * *

Today is St. Patrick's Day. For the first time, I remembered to wear green, and actually had both pants and a sweater clean to do so. I also really played up the day to Raelin and managed to get her into not only green pants, but an adorable green and blue plaid dress to go over it. We took a family photo. There is something about kids and holidays that make them much more palatable (not that Guiness is un-palatable) and besides, it breaks up the daily grind. Anyway, Raelin was really excited about wearing her saint patty's day dress, or at least, she was excited about my excited voice. probably the latter.

We were invited to a St. Patrick's Day potluck. I brought- get this- Guiness Steak Pie. Seriously. Found it on irishfood.com (or something like that). I bought some yummy natural steak, a hunk 'o bacon from the pig formerly known as Emily (for some reason a nametag was included in the packaging. gross to some, but I found it rather comforting that she was thought of enough to be named and well cared for. the info posted about the meat said that she was of an heirloom breed and rather rare. glad i used her bacon for a celebration), and of course, the guiness. browned the meat in butter (yum) then slow-cooked it in the oven in a bath of guiness (yummier) then topped it with a pie crust and finished it off (yummiest). it was well received and quite easy to do. We sang "Old 'Donald" in an Irish brogue on our way to the party and stuffed ourselves in a most delicious and un-nutritious fashion. a successful second St. Patrick's Day for the young lass of the family.

* * * * * *

So... Raelin is a um, unique child. I have already mentioned in a previous post that she often accompanies me to the bathroom. At certain times of the month, she notices that mommy does something a little extra in the bathroom. Enter Tampon Fascination. Now, *everytime* I go to the bathroom, she announced, "mommy change her tampON" repeat. several times. She would really like to " SEEEE it!? HOLD it?!!" but that's where mommy draws the line.

Seems that the other night in the tub, the plastic cow was in need of a tampON. Luckily I was able to duck out of what inevitably was to follow, "mommy... GET it?!....cow....tampON?!"

* * * *
We've had a rather social week and went to a potluck at our good friends' house last night. Their daughter is 6 months older than Raelin and they adore each other, but are only just now getting around to actually interacting. They're taking it one step at a time. Well, the other night I was beckoned to follow them upstairs. "C'mon, Elsa" Raelin said as they climed the stairs, much the same way she says, "C'mon, Reg" to the cat when she wants him to follow her at home. Elsa takes on the maternal role and steadies Raelin on the stairs and doesn't say much. When we made our rounds to the bathroom, Raelin wanted to sit on Elsa's potty. Elsa, who is fully potty-trained instantly saw that Raelin needed to pull her pants down to sit on the potty, so she started tugging. I had to help that one along, so now we have Raelin sitting on the potty appropriately. Of course she doesnt' need to pee but needs toilet paper anyway. She wipes and puts it in the potty. I tell her to put it in the big potty. Elsa observes that there's no pee in the potty and tells me so. I concur, but decide to leave out long explanations of why. Raelin takes out her toilet paper and toddles to the big potty. Elsa follows, fastidiously trying to wipe Raelin's butt. Raelin doesn't mind. Raelin drops in her toilet paper and returns to the little potty.

Repeat.
* * * *

So, I'll end my little vingettes with this- it was almost 50 degrees today!! I did errands in a sweater, no hat, no jacket. Granted i had on a light wool shirt underneath, but wow, i turned on the classic rock station and cracked the window and it was like, spring. never mind the crusty, nasty old snow piled on the side of the road. there is no turning back now, winter is getting the boot. she might leave kicking and screaming with another few inches of snow just to make her point, but whatever. it was almost 50 today. there is no replacing that euphoric feeling of spring coming after a winter like this. it's kind of indescribable. even the dogs were out in record numbers at the off-leash park where one golden retriever just couldn't stop humping. i tell you, spring fever is in the air.

Conversations with Raelin

2005-03-08T18:25:00.000-08:00

Me: "hey Raelin, it's time to leave for Elsa's house. Let's get your coat on."
R: "coat on... rainbow jacket!."
Me: "Ok, here's your rainbow jacket""
R: "nononono...no rainbow jacket."
Me: "ok... how about your red jacket?"
R: "red jacket? red jacketredjacketredjacket..."
Me: "put your arm in here..."
R: "no! no red jacket! rainbow. rainbow jacket"
Me: "ok. rainbow jacket."
R: "no! no rainbow... blue. blue jacket"
Me: "raelin. your choices are either the rainbow jacket or the red jacket. choose."
R: "choose. choose."
Me: "yes, you need to choose. rainbow, or red?"
R: "mmmmmm....red."
Me: "ok, red."
R: "nonononono! rainbowrainbowrainbow!"
Me: "Raelin, you chose red. You're going to wear red."
R: "nooooooooooo!!!!!nooooooooo!!!!"
Me: "1....2....3.....4.....5... put your arm in....6...7... thank you, now the other arm.....8...9...10. Thanks sweetheart, good choice."
R: "goodchoicegoodchoicegoodchoice...."
Me: "ok, raelin. shoes..."
R: "kitty cat boots! no... red boots!"

sigh.

school, schmool

2005-03-07T17:19:00.000-08:00

My young progeny and I attend the local Waldorf school every Friday for a Parent-Child class. There's a free play time during which much pretend soup is made and hundreds of tasks are started and abandoned mid-way, and then we clean up while singing about a gnome in a falsetto voice while setting the table. Before we sit down to our healthy snack/meal, we sing songs and do fun rhymes, watch a little puppet play and count how many kids try and put the ambience candle out with their bare hands. Raelin is the star of the class.

No, seriously, it's fun to kind of poke fun at Waldorf because its easy to do so, but it's a pretty amazing program. Rudolf Steiner, the founder, could be argued as either a genius or a freak and so he was probably a little of both. Anthroposophy was the philosophy he developed (at least, I think he developed it) and it's controversial among various crowds. I don't know all that much about it, but of what I do know it's like most things: much of it seems right on, some of it is downright weird and suspect.

But, onto the issues at hand.

Since we are part of the school community, even if it is only for one morning a week, we get the weekly news. This week the news arrived and I started reading the first article. Seems that the third grade has a class project.

Science fair? no.
Interviewing a grandparent? no.
Collecting money for tsunami victims? not quite.
Drawing up plans for world peace? 4th grade.

no, the third grade has secured an 11,000 grant to construct a New England style barn- designed by one retired architect grandparent- which will house outdoor gear including 20 pairs of brand-new cross country skis at reduced prices, a parachute, sleds, ropes, tools, etc... for general school use.

uh, i want my kid to do that!

i'm having a big dilemma about Raelin's school years, and she isn't even 2 yet. It's kind of scary. I told myself I would never be one of 'those' mothers, but here I am obsessing about where she should go to preschool and thinking we better get our names on some lists so we have options. Ok, correct me if i'm wrong, but I moved to Maine. Why the *hell* do I have to have my kid's name on a waiting list for preschool?

here is my crucial question: how important is elementary school? and does that importance outweigh other life experiences during those years? what i mean is, is it worth it to spend the money for her to go through her elementary years in a rich (mostly education wise, but clearly in general families tend to be better off at Waldorf schools), stimulating on all levels, beautiful environment.... OR to use that money as a family to both add to her college coffers (not that we even have the coffers yet. or the money, for that matter) and do to other things that could be pivotal in her life like trips, concerts, music or art lessons, etc... Could we as a loving, active, and creative family make that impact, or will being in a school like Waldorf have an even bigger effect that we could not have? (there is a lot about Waldorf that i'm not mentioning for lack of time and motivation to write about it, but you can check out the link if you are interested in learning more).

the other piece of this is- how much do I shelter her? At Waldorf, I won't have to worry about soda in the classroom or other kids bringing game boys or other garbage toys to school. She'll get outside everyday and won't have to take stupid standardized tests. if she's smart in one area, they'll challenge her in other areas, rather than just bump her up a grade, or put her in some gifted and talented class for an hour a day. She'll get to build a barn, for crying out loud.

and yet... there is soda and a plethora of garbage toys out there. There are kids who live differently from us, who have maybe never had wheat anything in their lives. Standardized tests are a reality, and finding one's own challenges in life is a skill that needs to be mastered. Part of me thinks that one of the biggests lessons of public school is learning to deal. The problem is, that most kids don't- they don't get the guidance and support to learn how to make the best of where they're at. Lots of teachers just don't care; and the ones that do are rare and make very big impressions. 'Course, even if she has crappy teachers, she will have 2 caring and invested parents, but we aren't the ones who have to endure school again for 7 hours a day.

I don't know. Its a tough call. So much of it is financial, but there are some big philosophical issues that I'm grappling with in this one. Both Kevin and I went to public school, and we turned out fine. But we were kids back in the day when, well, at least at my school we took standardized tests twice- 3rd grade and 8th grade. Now it's almost every year. There was no stupid No Child Left Behind Act and money was still given to art and music. Public schools are different now. And, I did well- got bumped up a grade for reading and whatnot. But.... I was bored a lot. I knew how to do well without a lot of effort and so I think I developed a habit of only doing what was enough. I sought enrichment outside of school to the point where I did so much I could barely keep up with it. In the end... who knows whether something Waldorf would have made a difference for me or not. How different could I be? I mean, no Waldorf and I'm still a nature-loving, wheat grubbing hippie.

I'm interested in what other people think about this. And remember, I'm talking about preschool through 8th grade, not even highschool. There's a great alternative highschool here that I pray will still be around- and that's she'll want to go there. But really... are those early years the most important, or ....? tell me. i'm listening.

edited to add..*

2005-02-27T12:18:00.000-08:00

kevin is a wonderful, supportive and fabulous father and husband. Despite the fact that he gets to go snowboarding, he also: (in no specific order) does the lion's share of the laundry, gets up early with Raelin so I can either sleep in or motivate to go to those laps, cleans up after dinner, does the fighting task of washing Raelin's hair, works like a dog so I can be a happy-go-lucky stay at home mom :) (no sarcasm intended, honestly. maybe not as much happy-go at this stage in the winter, but ususally this is the case), and in general is impossibly silly and keeps me and Raelin laughing. he does a lot of other things to, but those things are none of your business.

*this was a voluntary edit. i was not coerced ;)

Grab your summit pack, kids... we're going for the peak

2005-02-27T11:13:00.000-08:00

It's blowing like crazy outside. When a big gust rattles our north facing windows (a brilliant addition to the house, I think) Jasmine looks up at me nervously. I don't blame her. I asked my stepfather how hard the winds would have to be blowing for them to bust. He gave me an answer in terms of wind in knots which immediate turned off my brain, but I understood it be a pretty remote possibility. But still...

So, I haven't written much recently. My last blog was actually from someone else's life, but it was too damn funny to pass up. There haven't been too many funny things in my own life to write about. Well, Raelin is funny, but you have to be here. It's in the facial expressions and the unique toddler speak that cannot be duplicated for a distant laugh. But, you are welcome to come visit. In fact, please, do come visit. I'm done with winter, but winter is not done with me and so I need a good distraction.

yes, it's that time of year again when the long list of why I like winter has been edited to a rather short list and even the things on that list are losing their qualifications. For example, I always say that one of the best things about winter in Maine is that it is actually sunny a lot. We have these brilliant blue skies and bright sun that make you want to camp out all day on the lawn. But, there is no lawn - just snow blowing around in clouds like tumbleweeds in the desert. Kind of rules out a picnic. And I have written before that I love to be outside in the winter, snowshoeing and the like, but I'd rather do those things with my feet on the ground, not being blown across the golf course, you know? I mean, part of the point is for some exercise and it would be cheating if I allowed the wind to do it for me. Oh, and I have a toddler who I usually have to tote along on my back and that cuts the enticement factor of the whole business by about 98%. Of course, this is in February, manymanymanymanymanymany days into winter when the novelty has been scoured off by....oh yeah, wind.

But, on the bright side, we do get some nice sunshine through the non- North facing windows and that makes it pretty inside and gives Reggie some good places to nap, though it does leave him wide open for ambush by Raelin.

yeah, I don't know. This time of winter just wrings you out. You'll read the opposite in my husband's blog who is ga-ga over his new snowboard and wants winter to last as long as possible. Here's something funny that you moms in the audience will appreciate: why is it that when I have "free" time away from Raelin, I go grocery shopping or return the video, or maybe drag my butt to the Y to hammer out some laps at 8am. But when Kevin has time off, he goes snowboarding? or bike riding or surfing (depending on the season, of course)? Those who are about to argue that I could do that too can fuck off. Become a mother, and then tell me that. I don't want to hear it.

So, back to winter. It's like being at the bottom of a big ass hill. The end of February is being at the bottom of the hill. Climbing the hill (into a headwind) is March. April is just before you crest when you hit false peak after false peak. May is the top when you actually reach the glorious view and truly see spring and, wait, is that? could it be? Summer!!! unfolding in the distance. Its out there, it really is. The lawn is back and at least where we live, the wind which has now become our best friend, manages to keep the black flies and mosquitoes at bay. But, it doesn't matter because we are just so excited to be sweating from the simple exertion of breathing in summer heat.

The thing that kills me about all this is that honestly, I do like and appreciate winter. It's a like/hate thing with a healthy dose of respect and tolerance mixed in. Winter makes you dig. Not just out of your driveway, but dig in and deal- deal with the fact that you can't go picnic or walk on the beach (without a spacesuit) or snowshoe without the possibility of taking off. It makes me crabby, but it also gives me an edge, a bit of depth. Life was so easy and la-la when we lived in Santa Cruz. I never, and I do mean never, paid attention to the weather report because, how bad could it be? It was such a care-free life. And no offense to the Santa Cruzians who are reading this. I love that town and its weather, but I need to find some meaning in winter right now, if you get my drift.

yeah, winter is not for the feint of heart. Being that I'm not really backpacking or sumitting anything other than Beach Hill these days it gives me that adventurous feeling- you know, glad you're out there even though so many things suck and all you can think about is being back home? And, if nothing else, it gives me a reason to be melodramatic and feel good about myself when I finally crest the hill and look back and what i've been through. I made it! it sucked, but hey, we had fun and really, it wasn't all that bad. Spring has arrived and it's all down hill from here.

I can't wait for this...

2005-02-22T16:55:00.000-08:00

This was posted on the online mommy boards that I frequent more than I should. It was actually copied from the poster's friend's blog.

This is why we have children.

(M= mom
R= 7 year old daughter
J= 4 year old son)

R: Umm, you know how you said the guy has the sperm and the girl has the egg?

M: Yes

R: Well, and umm..the guy had a penis and the girl a gina?

M: Vagina, yes

J: I have a penis because I’m a BOY! (Here he pulls he pants down to prove it.)

M: Jarod, dinner isn’t exactly the best time to remove clothing.

J: But I have a penis

M: We all know, thank you.

R: Jarod, I’m trying to talk. Go wash your hands. You can’t eat after you touch your penis.

J: I didn’t PEE, I just showed it a little.

R: There’s still germs

J: No, germs are in the pee. MY penis is clean.

M: Okey dokey….lets just eat ok?

R: Well, I know that you told me one time that people sex and that’s how the sperm gets to the egg but umm…I was just wondering if you and daddy sex?

M: Yes

R: But you don’t want more babies right now, so why?

M: Ummm…well….because it’s also a connection that couples enjoy.

R: Does it feel good because in movies when people sex they look happy.

M; Aaaa….ummm…yes it can be very pleasurable.

R: Why?

M: Because our genitals have sensitive nerve endings that feel good when they are aroused is one reason.

R: Oh, well how many times do you sex?

M: Well, that’s kinda private.

R: Can I watch sometime?

J: I wanna watch you and daddy axe!

R: Not axe dummy, SEX. You want to watch them sex!

J: What’s sex?

R: It’s when the sperm tries to go to the egg and if the egg is there it makes a baby but if the egg is not there is comes out all bloody and mommy wears a big band aid in her panties.

J: I want to have an egg.

R: You can’t, you have the sperm. I have the egg.

J: I want the egg! I want the egg! Momma tell her I can have the egg.

M: Why do you want the egg?

J: I want the baby in my belly, like in your books.

M: Well, I don’t know what to tell you sweetie. Maybe when you’re older it will be possible.

J: Can I milk it to?

M: What?

J: My baby? Can I give it my milk?

M: Umm…suuure.

R: Mom? Sometimes at night I go to the bathroom and your door is closed and you have your music up really loud but I can still hear you making noises. Is that when you sex daddy.

M: Oh my god….

R: Yeah, sometimes I hear you say that when I’m in the bathroom.

M: :At loss for words:

J: Can I sex daddy too?

M: * Deep Breath* Ok, Rebecca daddy and I listen to music a lot while we do a lot of things…talk, read, play board games and stuff. It doesn't mean we are necessary having sex. And Jarod it’s not a good idea to have sex with someone you are related too. Now, who wants dessert? I think we should make ice cream.

R & J: Woohooo, I love ice cream!

This is not a Coincidence

2005-02-04T08:07:00.000-08:00

I am gearing up for yet another endeavor... project...time-stealer...call it what you will, I am at it again. People who know me well will not be surprised. I am always starting something. This is a big something. (and no, it's not another baby.)

but, it relates to babies.

When i was preganant with Raelin, we took a Birthing From Within childbirth education class. it was taught by a friend of ours, someone who I admire and see as one of those people who is a mentor-by-example. The class was great: alternative, artsy, challenging, insightful, and most of all, useful. I really used what I learned in labor, and returned to the postpartum reunion charged up and ready to sign on as an instructor.

well, fast forward a couple of years and I'm in the certification program. I have found many excuses to procrastinate in actually doing the homework and starting to teach. I started a different business (there i go again), have limited time without Raelin to work, developed a social life, etc.. etc... But like most things that are True, teaching these classes would not let go of me. I tried to shake it off. I don't have time. I would have to invest money we can't really spare. There are other people teaching classes. Excuse upon excuse. I finally acknowledged the tugging about a month ago and gave in. Fine! I'll do it!! I'll finish the damn program.

About the same time, I had put up an ad for my other business. Previously when I ran an ad in the same place, I got great results. I was sewing fairly regularly to keep up with orders. This time- nada. You would think the ad is invisible to everyone but me (as it pops up nearly everytime I log onto the bulletin boards where I have it running). So I found myself with the time I claimed I didn't have. Then I needed a space to teach the classes. Hmmm... I asked a friend who I thought might know a bit more about downtown spaces. In fact, she did (of course she did. can't you see where this is going?) Not only did she know of a space, it was a space that a friend of hers who is a massage therapist/doula was trying to secure. Said friend was looking for other like-minded women in the pregnancy/women's health arena to rent the space with her and conceive a Resource Center for women. um, ok.

so, yes, I am putting in money we could be using elsewhere. But I have been given in exchange time, and space, and inspriation. these things are fairly priceless.

I should not be surprised that things are working out this way. Indeed, I often feel that this is the way my life goes. I feel the tug. I listen. I follow. What I Need materializes.

Some people will say that these are coincidences. Or, that life is just like that- there is nothing special about it. I don't believe that. Rather, I choose not to believe that. I think it is special. I think it is extraoridinary when I listen to myself, act on what I hear, and lo and behold find some measure of success with my endeavor. I could call it Faith, but that is so overused. I prefer to choose this line of trust and acknowledge that yes, I could be wrong. It could all be coincidence, and had I chosen a different set of actions I might be raving about how well those are coming together too. But, you know what? this is more fun. I choose to believe in a life that is special- not that I am special, but that my decisions are not pure chance. That in fact, I am listening to something deeper and because I am heeding that, the path is graceful. Looking at life the other way (all coincidence) is, in a word, boring. Who the hell wants to live like that? Life is so much more magical when I say, 'yes, of course it is happening this way.' not, 'huh. that's interesting.'

We have a good friend/mentor who runs classes that often intersect with people's spiritual beliefs. He has lived an extraordinary life, full of the kinds of guidance i am describing. He speaks of things that I have never seen or experienced. Many non-believers challenge him on the validity and proof behind what he shares with them. Argument is not his response. He simply says, "I just know." There is no way to convince or describe to someone how you recognize things that are "unexplainable" or "just coincidences." You just know. And when they open themselves to it, they will know too.

I'm not a New Age nut. In fact, I hate New Age, and this presents a problem, because I would have a receptive audience with them. This is not about la-la bullshit. It's more about gratitude. It's about seeing the road of skeptic and cynic and turning the other way.
It's about risking other people thinking you are a stupid fool and not saying anything. There's no need to, because I know.

2005-01-29T15:57:00.000-08:00

Well, its been awhile since I've stopped in, so I thought I would use the Tubby Time (aka, Raelin and Papa tub, Mama ignores the dinner dishes and surfs the web) to catch up a bit.

For those that follow the weather and other fascinating things that like that, you might have noticed that it's been FUCKING FREEZING here. Many a days it has barely gotten into the double digits. The blue skies are a bit of a tease, but I'll take them over FUCKING FREEZING and FRIGGING CLOUDY all at once. Take note: this blog may often be about children, but its certainly not for your children. Today, however, was a balmy 25! Yes, that's 25! And if you don't live in a place that gets colder than, say, 45, you think I'm off my rocker to use balmy and 25 F in the same sentence, but it's true. Once you've lived through a winter here you would be amazed at how your body adjusts and it becomes quite conceivable to go out and get the mail in slippers and a t-shirt when the thermometer budges over 30 F.

If you don't follow the weather you're probably a bit bored by now, so I'll move onto more exciting things. Like... um.... what we did today in the weather!

I have discovered that I get pretty grumpy about the winter when I'm inside. But once I am bundled up and working up a sweat lugging Raelin and all of her bundles around outside, it's actually quite pleasant. No matter that sometimes the wind feels like fingernails raking across my face. The air is fresh and I'm alive!! I'm serious. I could quite happily tromp around our frozen lake and snowshoe the golf course in the single digits for... well, as long as Raelin will stand it in the backpack. Winter follies are fun and not for the feint of comfort, but invigorating none the less. Next weekend are the Toboggan Race Championships at our local ski hill. They have an actual wood toboggan run, and folks spend valuable life energy creating toboggans to race. It is said to be great fun and merriment, and you can catch all the icy details here after next weekend, as it is a big event on our calendar (nudging out spending yet another weekend sucked into the West Wing and changing the sheets).

In other news..

I spent 3 hours today doing my monthly co-op hours. I moved from a city that practically has as natural food grocery store for every household to one where there are 2, each of which is scarcely larger than my house. Shortly after we moved here, the closest one, Good Tern Coop finished a pretty new building just a 5 minute drive from our house. And for 3 volunteer hours a month, we get 15% off. Considering that I manage to do 90% of our shopping there I have figured that I make the equivalent of $15 an hour. Not bad!!

I love our Coop. I know all the employees (i think there are 6) and they know me and Raelin. I love that there is a small sunroom with tables to have soup or a sandwich, or browse their lending library. It's a place to sit and nurse your baby or toddler, or chill while your child plays in the kid's corner, a large mural-painted walled off area with a little wooden kitchen, basket of books, box of donated toys and occasionally a random box of cereal pilfired from the shelves, undetected.

(actually, I've never seen a pilfired box of cereal in there, but I like the image of it and hey- I'm not there 24-7 and given that I have first hand knowledge of toddler behavior and inparticular Purley O's addiction, I'd say it's a likely scenario.)

But you know what the best thing is about the Coop? It's that for 3 uninterrupted hours I get to do mundane, yet productive and necessary tasks and- get this- finish them.

No! you say, I can't believe it!
It's true!! I assure you.

And not only that, some of those tasks are cleaning- like wiping off shelves, or arranging things in neat rows. And when I'm done? you guessed it! They stay that way.

Please believe me when I tell you that this is valuable and purposeful time for me. I talk to adults in complete sentences that rarely repeat what has just been said to me AND I finish multiple tasks all the while drinking a free cup of organic decaf coffee that is mine, all mine. It's almost too good to be true.

This might come off in a way that leads the reader to think that I am looking down on the opposite, which is my daily reality: rarely finishing a task before being pulled to do something else, talking in short phrases that usually end as a question and more or less mimics the one who is talking to me, and trying desperately to guard my coffee. But, you have it all wrong. I do not look down or begrudge these things. Instead, I have cultivated a deep- nay- spiritual appreciation for all that is simple and uncomplicated: bagging bulk dates, weighing out chunks of feta cheese, pilfiring chocolate covered ginger nuggets from the bulk bin. These are simple gifts from my Coop that are lovely indeed, and in some ways, more valuable that %15 off.

The Coop keeps me connected. I meet people in the community. We chat. We bag and weigh. We say good bye, and perhaps not see each other again, but perhaps we do. It's easy- no commitments, no weird vibe or expectation. Just 3 simple, uncomplicated hours that finish where they start, everytime.

a funny... if you like potty humor

2005-01-21T19:01:00.000-08:00

we are in the very beginning stages of Potty Learning (which used to be Potty Training, but now it's very UN-pc to train your toddler). This means that Raelin runs around without a diaper in the house, and usually without pants either, and I clean up after her with a rag when I hear the requisite, "Peeeeeeeee!" in a high-pitched voice that is decidedly, cute. You might think this is disgusting to be swabbing pee off our nice hardwood floors, or blotting it off the carpet,
but after washing cloth diapers for a year, its no big thang.

Poops on the other hand....

Now that our young Callahan is of the toddler variety, she poops less. Like an adult (thankfully, not taking after her father)- like once, maybe twice a day. And they are your usual garden variety breastmilk/solid food consistency, unless she's teething, and then there is always a diaper on. The parents in the audience are nodding in understanding. The childless are trying not to lose their last meal out the wrong end. Just wait!! It gets better.

So, this afternoon while working on my own poop (properly and sitting on the toilet, I might add), Raelin was chatting it up with me from the doorway (no, no privacy for the weary). Until I saw The Look- wide eyed, a bit shocked, and then a gutteral, "mooooommmmmmyyyyy!" as her face turns a few shades darker.

"Raelin, honey? Do you need the potty?" no matter that my pants are around my ankles and her potty is in the other bathroom. oh, and that she's never pooped in the potty before. or that there is nary a stitch between her bottom and the loose fleece pants she's wearing.

here we go again..

"Mooommmmmyyyyyy! Urghh!" and with a defiant grunt the yet unseen turd exits and I watch as my daughter lifts her right leg and gives it a little shake. By now, i'm off and buttoned up and pulling her pants down, just in time to keep a perfect golf-ball sized poop from rolling out her pant leg and plopping on the floor. I gingerly carry the pants to the toilet and shake. Flush. Scoop up now naked and legs-smeared-with-poop child under my arm like a book and make it to the other bathroom and into the tub without a smidge of poop anywhere but where it belongs.

Ah! These are the moments a Mom cherishes.

Brrrr....

2005-01-18T17:05:00.000-08:00

so, its been really cold. if you looked at the crystal blue skies, devoid of clouds, and failed to notice the low arc of the sun, you might almost think it was over 10 degrees F. But, alas, i think the high today was 9. But, that's ok. We got our boiler cleaned and serviced probably for the first time ever (including when the previous owners who built the house lived here) and we're holding steady inside at 67 degrees. If i haven't already mentioned that Portland Jetport is only 90 minutes away, let this be a reminder to you all.

I've had blogs brimming all week but couldn't remember my damn password to access my account. Until it turned out that I really couldn't remember my username. i finally broke in yesterday, with nary a minute to actually write. But no worries. It's all still up there, though perhaps a tad stale, I'll see what I can do to rekindle the creative flame.

In keeping with the Brrrr.... theme (written Tuesday, 1/18):
On Sunday we took a family walk down to the lake. We've seen the yahoos and their ice fishing huts out there in the middle for weeks, so we'll assume the ice is safe, though you still won't catch me walking out there in the middle. I'll circumnavigate Lake Chickie within 50 feet of the edge, where I know if I break through its only thigh deep.

The sky was right out of Gotham City and the snow crusted ice not much different. Walking west into the wind was not particularly inviting, although watching Jasmine scamper across the ice and run with both back legs hopping like a jackrabbit to try and find some purchase was enough to keep us going for awhile. But Kevin's glasses were becoming uncomfortable on his face in the cold and i began to fear that the wind tears running down Raelin's cheeks would freeze in their tracks. She's a trooper in almost any weather, but she wasn't down for that. Except for my face, I felt fairly toasty so I decided to keep walking while Kevin and Raelin headed back up to the house.

Jasmine and I switched directions to go with the wind and we glided across the ice. I had an indescribable urge to have ice skates; to just cruise across the ice and live with and appreciate what cold creates, rather than curse it. We passed houses on the lakeshore that I hadn't seen before, since they aren't visible from the road and we haven't been out on the water much in the summer. Ahead I saw a man walking down from his house with a dog. Jasmine immediately tried to take off and looked a bit like a cartoon character running in place before going anywhere. He waved hello as he sat down on the bank and started to put on skates. We chatted, or rather, shouted, across the ice to each other. I suppose I could have gotten closer but I was attempting to keep Jasmine from fully harrasing him and his dog which was a completely unattainable goal.

He told me the ice was a good 5-6 inches thick and the skating was great. He'd been out earlier that day and was going out again to get a little exercise. (Exercise? what's that?) A few more pleasantries, and off he glided. I called Jasmine and made a half hearted attempt to get back the tennis ball she absconded from his retriever- yet another unattainable goal. it was a ratty ball. oh well. we headed back to our side of the lake.

I glanced back before stepping off the ice and watched my new acquaintence cross the center of the lake. His dog snarfed around closer to shore. Farther off toward the other side of the lake, an iceboat took advantage of the wind. Like a small go-cart with a sail, it tacks across the ice. I gotta get me one of those. Jasmine and I leave the lakeshore and head up the trail toward our little house, in the woods, on the lake, in the great state of Maine.

quiet

2005-01-14T06:19:00.000-08:00

ahhhhh.....
this is the sound of me drinking my morning coffee without dodging Raein and her 'poon, intent on stirring...

this is the sound of me sitting down at the table and eating my entire breakfast.

this is the sound of me anticipating a morning of cleaning and organizing without interruption.

this is the sound of me wondering what they are doing at school this morning and maybe i should have gone too....

No! this is the sound of me telling myself to relax and enjoy my free morning.

ahhhhhhh.......

the "real" world

2005-01-13T16:52:00.000-08:00

So, blogging is a little bit un-nerving. All day i think, "is *this* blog worthy?" "wait, maybe I should write about this!!" There' s nothing like a good session of self-scrutiny to keep one on one's toes.

Perhaps i should just write about what's around me... like right now, the sounds of my 2 favorite voices float down the hallway- Raelin and Kevin singing an "old Donald" duo ( that's Old Macdonald for those that don't know our toddler speak). They make up funny bath songs, like "Do it Hunca Munca! Oooh! Oooh!" (how do you write that noise that is the ubiquitous whoop that goes along with dance music?) you have to be here.

So today we went to our knitting/playgroup. About 6 moms and nearly twice as many babies and tots under the age of 4. We knit, drop stitches, eat, break up fights, temper tantrums, pick up dropped stitches, and snack some more. Some of us are closer than others, but really it's all about getting ourselves out of the house to have some adult conversation, even if it is about our kids, the vaccines we are or are not getting, and how irritating doctors are and how great our midwives are. No offense to any MDs in the house. And then there's the occasional non-child centered conversation. Today we actually ventured onto something rather.... thoughtful. I remarked that I had just turned 29, and started wondering, when does one actually feel like one's age? I think i stopped identifying with my age after I turned 25. I mean, once you can legally rent a car there's not much else to shoot for. The oldest mom in the group, who I learned today is 36, said that for her it was 35. When she hit that number, she really felt it. Hmmmm. A couple of us who are around 30 remarked that we had already begun to feel the difference in our bodies from just 3 or 4 years earlier; it's not as easy to get back into shape. There's no "bouncing back" after a 2-3 week exercise slump. Let alone a 9-24 month exercise slump. And there the conversation dwindled, because a cute young thing needed a boo boo kissed and another needed a diaper change and it was almost noon and time to help clean up the house and be on our respective ways.

But, that's the way it is as a mom. A deep (or, maybe just a little bit deeper) thought enters your head and then- boom! One little monkey just fell off the bed. But this mama doesn't call the doctor, she just puts away her grown-up thought and runs to scoop up the tearful monkey and make everything all better. The thought is gone. Perhaps indefinitely.

While we were in Santa Barbara last week visiting Kevin's family, his uncle remarked to me that he had a friend who said that she felt like she was "out" of the world until her youngest kid turned 11 or so. And then all the sudden she realized there was a world out there, full of happenings, and started to tune back in. He asked me if i felt like this, that is, tuned out of the "real" world. I said no, in fact, I am very aware of the world out there. I am a news junkie, and one of the best things about being up with Raelin at 6am is that if i so choose, i can catch the whole 3 hours of Morning Edition and end it with something intellectually stimulating from Garrison Keilor and The Writer's Almanac. To clarify, this is not because I actually listen to the whole 3 hours, but due to the fact that they loop their stories, I can catch most of the good stuff between reading stories, changing diapers, taking a shower, and various other domestic goodies.

So, yes, I am very aware of what's happening in the world, I told him (well, as much as an American is who depends on public radio). I added that I thought it was a pretty bad example to set for your children to check out of the world. I intend on being a vocal parent on issues that are around us, particularly living in this bubble called Maine where its quite easy to check out, if one so chooses.

What is more challenging, is to be aware of what is going on in my real world. My inner world. Those deeper thoughts that manage to break the surface of the endless mind babble of Sally Go Round the Sun and Sit Down Please, Raelin. I used to walk on the beach after work and think about my day and my relationships and how things were going and how I felt and what was nagging at me and what issues i needed to work on, etc.. etc... etc.. Now I heft 30 pounds of chub and layers down to the lake and maybe think about what I might make for dinner and when there's a window in the day when I might change the sheets. I feel busy, but I feel busy with what is happening right now and less projection. less obsessing. and lest I start to tread into deeper waters, I have a great distraction who keeps me in the moment more than any yoga class ever did.

so maybe I dont' really want to know what's going on in my real world. it's usually serious and self-probing and sometimes irritatingly esoteric. Building a creative block tower seems far more zen and authentic, and not only that, I have become exceptional at being unattached at any point, because Raelin is the local demolition contractor, and she does not play favorites.

yes, a few months ago when I read an email from a friend who shared that he was working on keeping his heart open and being open to whatever might come to him, I thought longingly for those times of self- reflection and discovery. When will I ever have that time again? I wondered.

Silly me.

Distracted

2005-01-11T13:34:00.000-08:00

Ok. I didnt' mean to start a blog. Seriously. In fact, I had been thinking that everyone has one which is a good reason why I should hang onto my rebellious 20's (being that this is my last year of being in my 20s. I'm 29, in case you didn't know. And, it has been less than a month since my birthday, so if you didn't send me a card, i'm still accepting :) and *not* have a blog, like everyone else. So you might wonder how does one end up with a blog if one is so against them. The thing is, I was reading my friend Madhavi's new blog and wanted to make a comment. Seems that you can't make comment unless you have an account. Does anyone else think that the world is requiring far too many accounts these days? Jesus. Anyway...next thing I knew, I wasn't commenting on Madhavi's blog, I was choosing my template and naming my own blog. Huh. So it goes. But, that's life I guess. I learn this more and more every day, that plans? Fuck 'em. Pure sitcoms for God.

So, a funny thing happened on the way to the potty. I got a blog.

It's that time in Maine, when we get a ridiculously early sunset, like, 3:30pm. but, that's ok, because the light is rich and golden and it almost makes it look so warm outside you want to pad out barefoot and breathe deep. Except, if you did that, your bare feet would freeze to the ice that's outside our door and your lungs would feel like they were on fire- and, not the hot kind. Its cold out, folks. The Lake (Chickawaukee Lake, for those not in the know of our locale) is frozen and some obviously deranged locals have set up shacks on the lake, aka ice-fishing huts, where they will pass many a cold-ass hour waiting for a fish. Portland Jetport is only an hour away, folks, you can be here to get started by dawn!! No kidding!
Pardon my sarcasm. Its fun to make a thing out of the cold. But, really, its fine. It is beautiful, and we love it here. But, you wouldn't, so dont' even think of moving here to buy a nice house under 300,000, and where we have the 2nd lowest crime rate in the country and all of our middle school kids get laptops. Stay where you are and read my blog :)

But, I digress.

We got home from California last night where we were witness to some of that great weather ya'll are having. That was some serious rain. Raelin is napping, and I should be (in no particular order) napping also, loading the dishwasher, unpacking, petting the cat, clearing clutter, napping, making some decision about what to cook for dinner, cleaning the house for the appraiser who is going to determine our happiness for the rest of the year, and, napping also. Hmmmm, good thing I'm working on that list. Like I said, a funny thing happened on the way to the potty.

So, that's what you can expect on this blog, my find friend. Ramble, rant, and rave and no uncertain amount of references to cold, the potty, my daughter, and how the hell I got here. Should be a fun ride.