"I'm Back, Baby!" -- Bender (Futurama)

Got back from the Michigan Trip last night about 11:30 p.m. (EST). It was a LONG drive, but the kids were great (both there and back). It worked well to leave on Friday night and then stay at a hotel in the early morning (1-2 a.m.) and then go keep going on Saturday. Willow slept through most of it, was amused by her big brother the other part of it. We made sure to make frequent stops on the Saturdays, and it worked out well. On the way back, we promised Michael we would play Weird Al when we hit Massachusetts--and to see his smile when he heard Weird Al--priceless.

We had a good time and we visited a lot of relatives, but a little more visiting happened than we thought would -- because Husband's uncle died just before he was able to see him. So, part of our time was spent going to the Wake and Funeral. Very sad, but it also allowed Husband to be able to see some relatives he might not have seen. And it made it all the more meaningful for him to spend time with his Grandmother later in the week.

Michael also got to hang out with his cousins, especially N. Michael also had fun playing/snuggling the dogs, especially Spanky. Willow was a super trooper -- she was passed around to tons of adults and was not fussy in the least. She was cuddled and cooed over the whole trip. And she had fun looking at all the different things. We also got a chance to have some adult time--went and saw "Tro.pic Thun.der"(hilarious).

We ended the trip with a hotel room overlooking Niagra Falls. None of us had really seen the Falls even though we had traveled past it all these times going to and from Michigan. This time we had a wonderful view and had breakfast outside our room looking at the Falls. Then we did a few touristy things, walking a strip that included some Haunted Houses (Michael was fascinated by them, but could not get the courage up to go in them). Leaving there about 1:30 in the afternoon, it made a longer day for the adults, but seeing Niagra was a good way to end a good trip.

Here's some pics (others to come).


We all went to Greenfield Village.



Michael and N went into this sweet shop in Greenfield Village.







Michael was impressed with the machinery (got to make a candle holder with a lathe). And especially impressed with the courthouse where Abraham Lincoln practiced law (the floor is the same floor Lincoln stood on--Michael felt the floor and said he was touching the footprints of Abraham Lincoln).


Another thing we did was spending a LOT of time at this video game arcade. It was great fun.

And Other Disgusting Things...

Random Stuff:

Disgusting things (and no, not talking about diapers here—so far its pretty tame):

Both Willow and I have colds. I don’t want to point fingers—Willow—but someone gave me a cold. And of course, as seems to be the case ever since I have had kids, I get pink eye when they get colds. So, this past weekend I was dealing with Willow with her slight cold and my left eye looking like I was hit in the face—PINK EYE! (okay, am I the only one who thinks of this South Park?)

My pink eye is now gone, I don’t think I am getting a sinus infection like I thought I was—just a damn irritating cold. Willow had a very minor cold and seems to be fine (other than the occasional cough in the night). Michael and Husband seem to have escaped.

Last night, I was holding Willow and kissing her tummy (as I am want to do). I had just finished BFing her ½ hour before, and was chilling with her and Husband while waiting for dinner to finish cooking. As I kissed her tummy for the Nth time—she burped up. On my face. On my hair. On my glasses. Luckily, it did not hit my mouth. But it was gross. And funny. Oh yeah, Willow and Husband thought it was major funny (Michael, who would have probably burst a gut laughing, was outside playing). To show you what type of Mommy I am…I just washed up in the kitchen sink—I did not run for the shower. I have had worse and I know the worse will be coming—wait until your 3 year old throws up on you while you are taking him to daycare, thus insuring you a day off from work with a toddler who may not be sick at all (they tend to sometimes just throw up for no reason, ya know). Oh yeah, fun times are in store.

Speaking of fun times…I may not be too available on the internets this week…we are intending to do something crazy. A road trip to Michigan. Leaving this Friday night, thinking since she is sleeping through the night, it might be the best for her. If any of you out there have traveled on a road trip with a 4 month old, please give me any advice you might give. The trip to Michigan is 800 miles one way, so we are talking 12 + hours with an ADHD 9 year old; a cranky Husband (who hates road trips and travel in general) and a 4 month old – I am doing most of the driving.
We have done this trip before, the last time being when Michael was 6 years old, but never with such a young one. I have a feeling I will need some of that chocolate I packed up for the trip…

Book Tour - Eat, Pray, Love

Someone else pretty much summed up my thoughts on this book. Here are my answers to some of the questions. I found this very self indulgent, even for a memoir.

At the start of the book, the author states that she will not go into the details of her divorce. Could you accept this and move on to the rest of the book, or did this lack of explanation influence your opinion of the entire book?


I had a problem with the fact that she did not go into details in the book. I feel that if you are going to show how you overcame a crisis, I would like to know WHAT the crisis was and how it affected you. The author saying that she had a “disastrous divorce” does not help me to feel any sympathy towards her. A lot of people have bad relationships and divorces. If you are going to write a book about discovering yourself, you need to be able to also reveal your life. Otherwise, I can’t really tell what adversity you overcame.

When my IRL (in real life) book club discussed this we had widely differing opinions on the tone of the book. Some thought it was "all about me, poor, poor me!" and "whiny" while others saw Gilbert's self-focus in as a fascinating journey to becoming a better person. What would you say?

I was wondering if anyone else felt that she was whiny. I tried several times not to roll my eyes as I read. I am sorry, but someone who gets to travel (and LOVES it); someone who gets to do a job that she wants to; someone who is not tied down by family responsibilities and can just go off and “discover herself” for a year—oh boo hoo!

Also, it was hard being an infertile hearing her basically bemoan the fact that she did not want children. I know it is her choice, and I would normally not have an issue—I guess it is just a tender spot for me, and since she did not go into the details of her trauma—except to say that then she had an INTENSE relationship with a hottie—oh gasp! (Okay, so I REALLY couldn’t find her sympathetic).

I am sure she has had a hard time. I did read with interest her struggles with depression, as I have family members who deal with this, and I have dealt with PPD. I felt sympathy for her when she was dealing with being alone in the world. BUT, without her going into specifics of her troubles, I can only assume that things for her are 100 times better than many other people who have dealt with depression and loneliness. She, at least, seems to have means to be able to deal with her needs (like traveling and writing). Maybe it was her writing style, but I did not find her a sympathetic person overall.


Elizabeth Gilbert's spiritual crisis was brought to a head by a failing marriage and the dawning realization that her desires were not nearly on the same track as some seemingly powerful, external expectations about how her life should unfold. What defining 'disasters' have triggered you to course-correct your life? Did the crisis(es) sneak up on you or did you see it (them) coming, but deny it for a while? What expectations did it force you to challenge -- either your own or external ones? How hard was that for you personally (as in, are you the kind of temperament that is naturally rebellious? Or not so much? Do you have a hard time letting go of control? Or are you at ease with improv on a grand, spiritual level?)

I think we have two major crisis’s in our lives. I could see both coming, but I denied them for a while.

The second crisis was dealing with our infertility.

The first crisis was finding out that our son had ADHD and social pragmatic issues. This is something we still struggle with. My expectations for my son and the real issues he faces daily. It is hard to see (and know empirically) that your son is very smart but is struggling in school mainly because his brain does not process things the way that others do. When I first found out he was having issues in school, the first thing I thought was “Don’t all 5 year olds act like that?”
My second thought was that I had failed him as a parent. It took me some time to get over that guilt. I realize in hindsight that at some point we were in denial about his issues. I also realize that at some point our expectations for what we thought our son’s behavior and abilities were had to change. Not that we excuse his behavior issues. But, we have learned when it is necessary to ease up on the control. For example, Michael goes through phases where he HATES tags on things – like his clothes, toys, etc. At first, when he was 3 years old, we thought it was cute (it was mainly on toys at that time)—we called it Tag-ectomies. Then, we realized at age 8 years, insisting on tags being removed from his clothing was something he NEEDED. And I stopped being irritated by it. This is especially hard for me, as I am a person who prefers to control things in my life (and sometimes I would like to know how to wash his clothes, damn it!) I have learned to be at ease with my family and its quirks, and I enjoy them more for them.

Hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list at Stirrup Queens (http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/). You can also sign up for the next book on this online book club: Baby Trail by Sinead Moriarty (with author participation).

One Year Ago Today - Updated with More Recent Pic

One year ago today.

One year ago today, I found out that this:




Would become this.




One year seems like a long time and a short time. It seems like so much has changed in this year, and it has. And yet, there is a part of me that always felt that this would happen. And a part of me that thought it would never happen. I had no idea where I would be a year ago. A year ago I had hope. I also had fear. I had confidence and yet I had none. I knew I was lucky, but yet mourned the fact that I wasn't lucky enough not to have done this "naturally".

One year and it is a lifetime. My daughter's lifetime. I am so thankful for her.

I wish everyone who wants this, gets to experience this:

Show & Tell #7

Cthulhu and the Kid

Last week, around 5 a.m., our son came into our bed and snuggled in. He brought his companion, his stuffed Cthulhu. When he went back into his own bed, he left Cthulhu. And Willow got to meet our friend. The first thing she did--put one of the tentacles into her mouth. Good girl, show lord Cthulhu who's boss.





This is not her first encounter with Cthulhu...we also have this shirt for her.

As we learned from our first, its never too soon to start the Geek Pride !

Obstacle Course

I am not sure if its just normal life or what, but lately, trying to get back into routines has been ridden with hidden obstacles.

My exercise routine.

I have started to get back to not only working out at work, but also biking on the stationary bike in the morning. For the last three weeks, Willow has been going to bed around 9 – 10 p.m. and sleeping until 4-5 a.m. After the first 2 weeks of this, I figured it was safe to start biking. I have been able to have time and energy in the morning to do my 20 mins on the bike, shower and then breast-feed her before I go to work. No sooner had I done this for 3 days in a row (!) then, things Popped Up:
-- Willow gets up at 4 a.m. and doesn’t go back to sleep after a feeding.
-- Michael brings Willow in while I am biking because “she’s so cute when she is sleeping!” (Which, of course, are the magic words to make her wake up!)
-- Have to take kids to their day care/camp because Husband has early morning meeting (this is happening next Monday too!)
-- What do you mean its time to go to bed!?!? (times 2)

-- AND getting a work out at work has interruptions from a company wide lunch meeting; having to leave early (thus skipping lunch hour for work-out) for company BBQ and kid’s appointments, respectively.

Parenting.

Normally, Michael has therapy for his ADHD on Thursday nights. We stopped during the month Willow was born and restarted the next month. And have consistently had to re-schedule, cancel or postpone. Our next appointment is in the middle of September.

My mom meter is close to the danger level when it comes to the amount of time Michael has spent on video games since Willow has been born (and I know I am exaggerating here, its not as bad as I imagine). BUT, I wanted his video game time to get lower so he could spend more time playing outdoors, etc. AND its been the worst summer ever for outdoors time! Rain Rain rain rain…too hot…rain rain rain rain. Weirdly enough, he has had time outside—he even has a tan!

I swore we would do as the teacher had asked (all students) and have Michael practice his multiplication tables every day, practice handwriting and read. The reading I find the most important and I have had him keep up with that. The other stuff—I vacillate from wanting him to have SUMMER down time and wanting to make sure he does know this stuff. And, quite frankly, I only have so much energy left at the end of the day! (Hence those video games!!) I mean, yes, I have had the Super Mom moments of breast feeding Willow while feeding the cat and going over the 6 times tables---its just not happening every day folks!

Willow has a rash on her neck that has become infected and she also seems to be getting a cold. Which means that on top of the normal 3 ½ month old infant care and feeding, we now have to put on a topical anti-biotic three times a day and a cortisone cream twice a day (for a week or so). And she slept in this morning (because she started getting the cold last night), which meant that instead of feeding her this morning, I was pumping (Moo!) Which also meant I missed seeing her awake this morning. ☹

(And Husband said she woke up smiley and everything!)

Dinner

Trying to eat healthier has fallen flat, as most of the time trying to make dinner at home has been hampered by Husband working late unexpectedly, which means by the time he gets home (if he gets home before 9 p.m.), we order out. On a good day, I feel triumphant if I can get home on time, breastfeed Willow, find something for Michael to do, spend time with them both AND make dinner. (Guess which thing gets dropped first).

Sleep

Willow is sleeping quite well. Now, if I could actually take advantage of that. But I don’t go to bed when I probably should. Mainly because after she goes to bed, there is the lunch for Michael to be pack, the dishes to be put into the dishwasher (thankfully, I don’t have to wash them), wash and sterilize bottles, and, oh, possibly RELAX (with or without Husband, who may be working at home on the computer). IF I get to bed by 11:30 p.m., it’s a miracle.

Okay, so there is normal life in a nutshell. Its messy and tiring and fun and joyful and decadent.

Tonight, I add to the mix—we are going to the zoo for a member night event.

Hmmm...I guess sometimes I create my own obstacles

Willow - 3 months

Show & Tell #6

(These pictures are pictures of pictures, so excuse the quality)


This is our first family portrait. It was taken around May 2001. Michael was 3 months old. I remember feeling so proud and also so clueless. We dressed up in our finest clothes, and dressed Michael up so pretty. We brought a bottle of formula even. The room was hot. The lights were hot. Michael was fussy. He was tired. His clothes were too hot for him. I insisted on having a clothing change for his pictures by himself. It was a disaster. But, we got some cute pictures anyways and we proudly displayed our family.




Today we went for our first family portrait with Willow. This time, we did not get her out of her pjs until we got there. She was dressed lightly. We gave her intermitten sips from a bottle. And when she did fuss (which wasn't much), we handled it gracefully. We were veterans. We dressed in dressier casual, we relaxed. It was fun. Willow is 3 1/2 months old. Michael, that 3 month old up in that first photo--he's NINE.



Not only did we get some good photos--we got our children's personalities. Miss "Fist in Mouth" proudly displayed her hands.





And Michael showed his cunning.



Something I tend to do is put recent photos in front of older ones. It is always fun to look at the changes from year to year. And the act of doing the family portrait also reminded me about the changes in our attitudes and behaviors. How we are more mellow with this second child. How we are comfortable in our roles as parents. How our son is growing and changing. What will the next family portrait show us?

One Year Ago...

One year ago we transferred the 2 embryos, one of which became Willow.

I can’t believe that its been a year. 2007 was such a roller coaster ride. It was the year we decided to try IVF. We decided that since our state covered 3 cycles, we would go for it. We knew we would have a 40% chance of success. Compared to the 2% chance without assistance, it seemed so incredibly hopeful. Then we had the first cycle in May of that year. You try hard not to put your hopes on the line. You try, but you fail. And when that negative test result stares at you—your hopes are not just dashed. You crumble. My resolve started to crumble. I worried that maybe we were just not meant to have another child. Maybe one was all we were allotted. Maybe the odds were against us and we should just finish filling in those adoption papers?

And then we picked ourselves back up and did cycle number two. I was far more cynical this time. I went through the motions, but did not hold out any hope. I was certain that this cycle too would fail, and I was starting to wonder what we would do when the third cycle came along. I had already started to make alternative plans.

And then the world changed.

I feel incredibly lucky. I know of other people who have struggled far longer and went through far worse trails than we have and still do not have the satisfaction of a child. I sympathize with their longing and I can only hope that someday they will know what I know now--it is worth every heartache endured. It is worth every needle, every probe, every surgery. It is worth the long hours crying and wishing and longing. It is worth it.

An interesting post.

Morning Routine

This morning went so smoothly that I just realized, sitting here at work at 10 a.m.--Willow slept through the night again! She went to bed about 10:30 and was not up until 6 a.m. The fact that I did not even acknowledge this fact, points to two things. One, Willow sleeps through the night quite frequently now. Two--routines are starting to take place. This morning went smoothly (I even got to exercise like I used to!).

This morning, I woke up and grudgingly used the stationary bike for 20 mins. My son was up and had come into our bed 10 mins before I finally decided to quit using the snooze alarm and get my fat ass out of bed and exercise--he's a good motivator, as he pushes you out of bed while he squirms around. I got into the shower. He came into the bathroom and asked me could he wake up Willow, because she was "so cute!" I told him please wait until I was done showering.

Finished my shower (in peace!) and looked through the laundry--started sorting it and waking up the husband. (He's not a morning person--hmm...actually, I am not as much of a morning person as I used to be either--maybe cuz my son is a SUPER morning person--the scum...). Michael got Willow out of the crib (I watched). He wants to hold her and pick her up...but putting her on our bed this morning--it a struggle for him and I realize we have to supervise him a bit more from now on--she is just so wiggly and getting heavier...

Willow smiled her smile. Then proceeded to cry (partially because her big brother was trying to snuggle her and pinch her cheeks--he likes to do that a lot).

We go downstairs, I breastfeed Willow, while husband gets my breakfast (and I try his patience by mentioning that I need more butter and syrup than he put on my pancakes--there is no milk in the house--forgot it because we did a lot of social stuff this weekend--, so now no cereal for me this morning). While eating breakfast, remind husband that Michael needs his medication...also, I need my Pre-Natal vitamin and my medication (I am weaning myself of the Zoloft now).

My conversations with my husband in the morning can become annoying (even to me), as I list off or remind him of the various things that need to be done this morning after I leave for work (I leave before they go, so that I can leave earlier to pick them up). This morning was especially interesting as Michael was going to a different camp for the rest of the summer--a camp that doesn't have lunches there, which means my conversation with my husband went kinda like this:

"Don't forget his lunch that is in the refrigerator." (X 3) [Aside: "Michael, don't forget that you have a lunch in the refrigerator"]

"Oh, and don't forget to let the camp counselors know that this is his first day."

"Oh and don't forget the formula for the daycare provider...she needs more."

"Oh, and don't forget to ask about how much we have to pay for the camp fees."

"Maybe you can ask to pay it when you drop him off?"

"Where is his swimsuit?" "Oh, here it is." "Don't forget his backpack."

[Aside: "Michael? Do you need money for camp?"]

"Please put sunblock on him...(I know he hasn't been doing it, and this camp is outside most of the day)."

"Oh, and don't forget his lunch--in the refrigerator."

and finally, as I rush out (hey, I was running a bit early before, how did I get a little late now?):

"Love ya!" (as he holds Willow while on the couch, son sitting nearby waiting to beg to play a videogame).

UPDATE:

IM from husband:

1)micheal saw [a friend]
I have arrainged for them to be in the same group next week
the pink puma or whatever

2) [daycare provider] has the can [of formula]

3) micheal has his lunch'

4) I put on lotion
he put it on his face (jis insitance)
his

she took a nap this morning 1 hr
micheal sang to her

I love my family! :-)

Sigh of Relief

Blog surfing this morning I realized something. I am not worried. Seeing everyone's posts on 2WW worries; on pregnancy or non-pregnancy worries, I realized that even when I was pregnant this last time, almost every day I was worried. I worried whether I would miscarry, I worried about whether she/he would be healthy; I worried about my health; I worried about whether I would get stuck with bedrest again; I worried about the labor/C-Section and recovery; I worried about weight and how my son would deal with a sibling. I just worried. A lot. And I think it was partially because of the many issues we had to deal with concerning infertility and the IVF cycles. Yes, during my first pregnancy I worried. But not like this. I was more aware of the many things that could go wrong. I was aware of the fact that we were EXTREMELY lucky to have gotten pregnant the first time without any medical help. I was aware of my age, of my egg quality, his sperm quality and the factors that had to go into making them be compatible. Fertility treatments make you so aware of your body, especially during the 2 week wait, when every little ache or pinch (or indigestion) can make you wonder--am I pregnant? And it doesn't stop after you get that BFP. Oh no. It keeps happening. And it doesn't stop after 12 weeks, or 18 weeks. I think by my third trimester I was comfortable being pregnant (in time to be physically uncomfortable!). And even then--sometimes, I couldn't believe that FINALLY we were pregnant, that we were finally going to have our daughter.

Now, being on the other side of it all, I realize that today, right now, I am not worried. Yes, there are the normal everyday trivialities..and there always will be. But I have 2 wonderful kids and a wonderful husband. And we are all healthy and happy. And growing and adapting. And now, my worries are about getting back into shape and eating right and enjoying my life with my family.

Success and Failure

This weekend we went for a day and a half to a gaming convention. We traditionally go to this one and to one in February, usually staying the whole weekend. This was our first attempt with Willow. It went very well. We have bought a travel crib which works wonderfully, and she actually slept fine. Husband got to role play game that Friday evening, while I spent time in the pool with the kids. It was great to watch Michael dive down with his snorkel and googles. He was having such fun! Willow was not sure what to make of the pool. She was not upset, but she had a very quizzical expression most of the time. I played with her, twirling her around, having her legs sway back and forth, getting her whole body wet, etc. I even put her (for a moment) in a floaty ring. After ½ hour, I took her out and I wrapped her in a pool towel. She snuggled in---and promptly fell asleep!

I was so impressed with Michael’s pool playing that the next morning, we got up at 6 a.m. and he and I went to the pool by ourselves. It was great to spend some one on one time with him.

Then, Michael and I each had games to play (I won Dork Tower, and won a board game!). Michael played a superhero game, enjoying it very much. Later, I bought t-shirts and a card game. Willow was with daddy most of the morning, although she also was passed around a bit—she was that CUTE! Michael and Willow wore their Call of Cthulu shirts…it was great!

The only bummer of the weekend was when we came home—and I discovered that I gained 3 pounds! Hmmm… that was not what I expected. And now it hits me—I have to REALLY exercise and eat right again. Yep, no excuses now! I guess what annoys me (other than that it actually means I weigh more than when I was pregnant!) is that I was doing so well until 8 months…then I started to slip (“Oh, I can have that piece of chocolate cake, I am pregnant after all”). Then, after the baby, I tried to concentrate only on being sane. Then going back to work (where I did start exercising—just not as much as I wanted to). Then the wedding and the relatives visiting…then daycare provider having vacation last week (meaning we had to scramble around and have an all around messed up week). All were used as excuses for not being able to eat right and exercise. Now, I hope that we can get into the new Normal again—with added ingredients of better meals and exercise.

The Cat, the Kids and the Wardrobe

This weekend was my brother's wedding and my son got to be the ring bearer. It was the first time ever he was formally dressed and in a tuxedo, no less!


At the fitting. This jacket was too small. And the pants. My son has long arms and legs! I hadn't realized how long and lanky he looks! Luckily, the next size worked well--although the tailor still had to let down the pants! He sympathized with me on how hard it is to buy pants for this kid!



With my brother just before the wedding. Although planned for outside, the weather was much too humid and hot (94 degrees), so it was inside.

The wedding went very well. Michael was a good ring bearer, never shirking his duty, and only losing the rings a couple times before the ceremony. During the ceremony, the photographer tried to have him sit down too soon. He replied quietly that he "still had one ring left" on his pillow, thank you very much. I have wonderful video and pictures of him during and after the ceremony and in his tux at the reception. Much to his chagrin, he was pestered by many girls who wanted to dance with him. But he only danced with mom and Ana!



Also this week, Willow learned to grab things--things like a RATTLE!

At her check up, Willow weighed in at 12 lbs. and 23 inches and took her first shots like a pro--only a little crying/shrieking!

Willow has grown out of her smallest clothes (0-3 mos.) and is now starting to wear some of the new 3-6 mos. clothes, like this outfit from Nonnie...




We don't know about the bonnet...we kinda feel like someone else looks better in it...

Progress

The big news is that Willow is accepting bottles! She is up to three 3 oz. bottles per day during the week. On the weekends, we slack a bit, but we usually get two.

Michael got his first small sunburns (on his cheeks and arms) and went on his first field trip of the summer (Water Country).

I just finished my first 30 mins. workout at work! I used to work out 30 mins at work (during lunch time) and 20 mins. at home on the bike in the morning. So far, I think I have returned to the 30 mins. at work (I've been building it up the last two weeks). That was the easy one. Trying to get ANY exercise at home--not so easy. But, I got Wii Fit to see if I can at least have fun (when I have the TIME).

Husband's birthday was fun and he got Rock Band. (Yes, the Wii is being used a lot lately).

In other baby related news:

We had Willow sleep her first night in the crib on July 12th. She did spectacular (sleeping from 10 p.m. until 5:30 a.m.!), but she moved around a LOT and I got a little frantic about her safety--so, she is back in the bassinet until we get this.

Otherwise, she is doing quite well. Almost rolling over on her stomach and her neck muscles are holding her head up quite nicely. She "talks" a lot and smiles a lot.

Michael is very affectionate to her and is often trying to help by calming her down and singing to her.

Little Things Make it Worthwhile

The past week has been hectic. Which is funny, because I always felt that we were hectic before. And it is different, but the same. I think sometimes that I am overwhelmed. And then I think I have a handle on it. I still have to remind my husband and son to help out (we are a team, after all—right guys?). I sometimes just end up doing everything myself (and feeling overwhelmed). But, so far, this is not anything new. I am coming up with new expectations and new routines.

Willow is definitely new. But she is also changing and we are adapting. I am adapting.

I think the hardest thing so far is remembering that I can’t just leave the house without stuff. Michael is so self sufficient in so many ways. And Willow is so dependent. And Michael is still a child too—which I have to remember sometimes. Sometimes he is so mature…and sometimes his OCD or ADHD make him so immature…

As for their interaction together, while it is limited at the moment because of her age, she does smile at him and recognize him. He loves cuddling her, making up songs about her:
“Funky, funky Willow and her Diaper of Doom” is a favorite. He likes to try and soothe her when she crys and likes to play with her arms and legs.

Despite all the stuff to do, things to remember, sleep to make up, its the little things that are making me happy: Willow’s sleeping form in my arms at 4 a.m.—wanting to just cuddle up with her; Michael running from his room to ours, to jump into our bed for warmth and a cuddle; Willow smiling and cooing; Michael concentrating on reading a book (so serious); Willow wide-eyed expressions; Michael coming downstairs after bedtime with his mischievous smile.

Show & Tell #5 - Happy 4th 2008!

We went to our traditional place for July 4th. A bit different this year--the youngest child we had ever take before was Michael when he was 2 years old. Willow is only a little over 2 months old--and she was such a trooper! Everyone kept coming up to us saying how cute she was and asking about how old she was, etc. Upon hearing what her name is, everyone says what a beautiful/interesting name it is. Basically,she was unwittingly the center of attention, and after so many years of trying for her--it felt really GREAT! Especially since last year, we were doing this!

She had a good day, wearing two new outfits (thank you, Nonnie and Aunt Pat/Great Grandma Kaylor, respectively).










Michael had a lot of fun, especially since he got to play lots and lots of video games at the arcades, while mom and/or dad dealt with Willow.

I nursed her twice while there--once in a Nursing Station (which was just a small room next to the family restroom--it had a rocking chair, a diaper changing station and a wash basin--and no friggin' air conditioning--the day was not too hot, and the most I sweated was in that room!). The next time I nursed her was in our car--ah, air conditioning and radio! Also: SHE TOOK A BOTTLE! On Wednesday and Thursday at daycare she took a bottle of breastmilk (2 oz each time, but still!!). Today, it was about 3 oz of instant premade formula! So, my baby is growing and adapting!! :-)

We stayed about seven hours and decided that we did not think we/she could deal with another 4 hours until fireworks...which is a-okay with us---there is ALWAYS next year!!

At home, we had Chinese food, watching the Twilight Zone marathon on SciFi (another tradition), Michael was put to bed, Willow snuggled with dad (who's birthday is July 5th).

Michael and I having fun...






Michael liked the bumper cars...


A lot...


Riding them the most of any ride.

Adjustments

Time for the New Normal to begin! Yesterday was my first day back to work, meaning that everyone in the family has to start adjusting to new routines. So far, I would say we are doing well, but it is a challenging time for all. I normally work 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. Yesterday, I got in at 10 a.m.--we all slept late (mainly cuz it is understood at my work that this week is going to be a bit strange) and I breastfed Willow, helped Husband deal with both children, got the gear packed up for each one, saw the three of them (husband, son and daughter) off. Then I got to work--luckily, the traffic is light this holiday week...

The mess I expected to encounter at work was very minimal--it happened to be a slow 10 weeks! So, I had some catching up to do, but nothing too overwhelming. Which was good. Because others of our family are having trouble adjusting:

Willow is refusing bottles. Or, more precisely, she sucks at the nipple of the bottle playing at eating. But, when you take the bottle away--very little has been taken (I mean less then an OUNCE). I blame us. When she was newborn, she seemed to have no problems with the occasional bottle. So we assumed it was a-okay, and she has mainly been breastfeeding. About a week and a half ago we started trying to give her bottles, in preparation for daycare. And the Bottle Fights began. We have tried different nipples, of all sizes and shapes (thought these were working--but I guess not). We have tried breast milk, different formulas. We have tried with me out of the room, me giving her a breast and then giving her a bottle. We have tried a lot of things, but so far, nothing but my breasts will do. But, here is the wierd part--she seems to not be the worst for it. Yesterday she was a bit fussy and I did leave work early, because both the daycare provider and I were worried because she was not eating. Today, she was totally fine--save not eating out of the bottle. And when I bring her home, I breastfeed her and she is fine--and its not like she is STARVING--she does not act like she is choking it down or anything. So, at the moment, we are letting her have time to adapt--I am sure she will eat when she is hungry (at least, that is how I feel right now). My long term plan is to do like we did with Michael--breastfeed morning and evening, supplementing with expressed milk and formula during the day.

Husband is adjusting slowly to having to get two children ready in the morning. So far I have been helping (esp. since I have to breastfeed her). He is not much into time management, so this is a bit of a challenge for him. I have been trying to lay things out the night before to help, but I think he will have to get up earlier than he used to (esp. when school starts in September). (I am sure he won't be happy to hear that!)

Michael likes camp so far, but doesn't swim (he thinks the pool is too cold--which is kinda true) even though I bought him a new snorkle. He has been a bit more irritable in the mornings--mainly because he sees that we are spending more time dealing with Willow's issues, I suspect. This morning I guess he spilled some chocolate pudding while dad was showering (um...why was he eating chocolate pudding--dad needs to explain that one) and tried to clean it up on his own--without telling anyone. Dad found out when he came home to pick something up...luckily! (I can just see our cat licking up chocolate pudding and getting sick!)

I got into work at 9 today, and was able to stay til my normal time. I am still not totally there mentally--keep thinking of Willow and Michael. But it is good to get back to the old routine a bit--I worked out in the fitness room today for 20 mins. It felt good. (Even helped my neck, which hurt from sleeping on the couch with Willow last night--routines are still adjusting!)
The good news is that this is the summer--so the school/homework hustle is not adding to this major stressful time. AND--this is a short work week--the weekend is almost here!!

Show & Tell #4

This was my bumper sticker collection on the back of my car. I took the picture because someone rear ended me and ruined it (they said they were looking at the bumper stickers--so, in a way, I guess it was my fault).

I don't usually have this need to display my personality, but for some reason, I had done so with these stickers.

Hmmm...let's see...one can see my overwhelming opinion of Bush. And my liberal leanings are pretty apparent. The reason I had these stickers was because of how awful I felt after the 2000 election.

I also have two Buffy The Vampire Slayer related stickers. The obvious "Vampire Slayers Against Bush" (which we got a lot of great comments on). The other one is the "Stranger Things" sticker. That is from an online community that I was a part of for a while. They were more based on Angel (the spinoff of BTVS). I do occasionally check in on this site, but since the shows are done, it is not as active community. I remember good times when the community would await the next show and then we would all comment on it afterwards. That was my first experience with an internet community.

The sticker above the "Think: Its not illegal yet" sticker is my "Scrapbooking Ninja" sticker. A shout out to my scrapbooking tendencies.

And then there is the Malcolm White School Pride--my son's school (that's Malcolm the tiger mascot).

Show & Tell #3

This is my grandmother. This Sunday (June 22nd), she would have been 88 years old.

She died on July 5th three years ago.

She was more than a grandmother to me. She was my best friend, teacher, confidant, mother, cheerleader, pen pal.

Growing up, I lived only a few blocks away from her. My best memories are of riding my bike over to her house. A tradition started with my tricycle and my parents watching me go down the block while my Grammie would be down at the bottom of the hill around the block waiting for me. A tradition that I kept with my ten speed, sneaking off to visit her on her day off while I was a teenager and needed to get away from my parents.

Both my brother and I would frequently spend the weekends over at her house. It was a wonderful treat. The weekends I spent over at her house were fun and relaxing. When I was little, I could stay up late, while she watched The Love Boat and The Tonight Show (shh...now, don't tell your parents I let you stay up this late!). She had a spare room off of the living room. It had a small bed and since I was too scared to go upstairs to one of the bedrooms, she would let me sleep down there. She would sing me this song. I would fall asleep, occasionally hearing the dull sounds of the television in the living room. The next day, she would make breakfast, we would talk--talk about anything/everything. Grammie often told me stories of the past, but she did not live in it. She could understand the problems of a teenage girl (or at least listen sympathetically). She always had her radio on (being a widow since my dad was 16 years old, it was her companion). She had a huge cabinet record player, and she and I would take turns picking records to play. The first place I played air guitar--her dining room. There was always ice cream (vanilla) and Hershey's Chocolate (in the can) and she was always baking something--usually a cake. On Saturday evenings, we would play cards (this was our game) or we would read books. She was the one who told me about my brother being born. I was 8 years old, sleeping in that room. She came to me in the middle of the night and said "You have a baby brother."



Grammie and me--the early years! She was usually our babysitter--even when I was old enough to watch my little brother, it was nice to have her come over to keep an eye on us.


At my college graduation. During college, she would always write to me. Every week I got a letter from her, usually with a few dollars inside for a "treat". After I moved 800 miles away, we would write letters back and forth, letters that sustained me through the worst kinds of home sickness and doubt. After she died, I found some half written letters in her nightstand. In recent years she had not been able to write too well, but she had still tried (often opening the letter with an apology for the bad writing).

Grammie loved to feed squirrels that would come into her yard. She loved nature of all kinds. Every year, I make a donation in her honor. She never drove, taking the city bus to work. Grammie loved to walk anywhere and everywhere. I would take bus trips with her to the downtown mall ["The Kalamazoo Mall, the first outdoor pedestrian shopping mall in the United States, began with the closing of Burdick Street to auto traffic in 1959. The four block long mall, stretching from Lovell Street on the South to Eleanor Street on the north, has been restyled to match the attributes of the Arcadia Commons development, where the new Kalamazoo Public Museum anchors the north end of the mall. The creation of the mall gave Kalamazoo the name of "Mall City."] She worked downtown for over 20 years, so wherever we walked there, she was warmly recognized. Often we would stop and she would introduce me (I was her only granddaughter). She was very proud of her grandchildren and often showed us off. She was also the typical grandma who bought the expensive gifts mom and dad would not buy, who would take you out for ice cream just before dinner.



August 1995 was an awful year for my husband and me. My husband's father had a sudden heart attack and died (age 51). (Michael is named after him) We went back to Michigan for the funeral. We did not stop by my family's house (they lived 3 hours away from his family), mainly because I knew Grammie and my brother were coming up to visit us in Boston 2 weeks later. We got home from the funeral, and there was a message on the answering machine from my dad--my Grammie had had the first of several minor strokes she would suffer for the next several years (she never was able to visit me in Boston).


Grammie, me and my son.

For a time, she lived at home, using a cane and walker. It was a hard blow for someone as independent and spirited as she was. But she seemed to improve. When we saw her during our trips we made to Michigan afterwards, she was still Grammie. Then, some years later, she fell and broke her hip. After that and some more strokes, she had to live in a nursing home.

Her last few years were spent there, and slowly her spirit started leaving her, although it was only in the last year that she started to have problems with her memory.


Grammie and Michael.


July 2005 I saw her for the last time. The doctors had found advanced cancer (they had originally thought she had a cold/pneumonia), and she only had a few weeks to live. I spent time with her, she was weak and barely able to talk, but she was happy to see me. My main regret in life is that I did not stay with her longer. I was feeling pressure to take care of my son and I thought I would see more of her the next day. I said good bye and that I would see her tomorrow. She said she looked forward to it and smiled at me. I was in the shower the following morning getting ready to see her when I found out she had died that morning.

My daughter's middle name Leone is Grammie's middle name. I am honored that I can pass that name on and look at my daughter and remember that wonderful woman who made such an impression on me and my life.

Love ya Grammie. Miss you.