Inevitably Keely

Baby Steps

2011-12-15T19:43:00.000-08:00

I'm talking about weight loss people - WEIGHT LOSS.

Last week, Daniel and I joined a gym. After years of pretty much not exercising, we decided we needed to be proactive about our health. Last week, I felt like a was making a positive life change. I was excited and hopeful and empowered.

I went to the gym for the first time yesterday. I was on an exercise bike for 25 minutes and did just over 5 miles - I felt like a superhero. I'm exaggerating a little bit, but I felt good.

Today I went back and spoke with a personal trainer. After answering some questions she had about my expectations and habits, she started me on a cardio warm up. Kicked. My. Ass. And just when I was about to throw in the towel, she brought some guy over to me who announced he was going to "give me the workout of my life". Whoa. He also told me over and over that he could not believe I was 35. Nice.

He brought me downstairs to assess my flexibility, balance and endurance. Within a few minutes, I was drenched, pasty white and in pain. He kept working me and pushing me further. He kept telling me he could get me down 75 pounds in the next 6 months but I was going to need to do it through resistance training. He said cardio should only be done as a brief warm up. He pushed me so hard and I felt so horrible that I was dreading the idea of ever seeing him again, but he made sure to tell me I did better than he thought I would or what other people do on their first visit. He told me that he could tell I was going tobe a "success story".

And then he took me into his office to talk numbers. It was like I was buying a car. I went from feeling sort of good about the work I'd just done to feeling like there is no way I will succeed without these people helping me. It was frustrating. I started feeling very insecure. He walked me through all their program could do for me and all the support I'd have and then he told me it could all be mine for 2 half hour shifts a week for JUST $320 a month. I told him there was no way I could afford that. He told me I could see a trainer once a week for $100 a month. I said I'd need to discuss it with my husband. He told me they might not be having the same offers tomorrow and that I needed to see that this was a long term benefit, well worth $100 a month. I told him I'd still need to discuss it with my husband and that I'd get back to him. He asked me how soon I'd know. I told him that if I decided to do this, he'd be the next to know. There was a quick shift - he told me he'd see me around and to have a good evening. Done.

I'm sort of at a loss now. I feel good from the work I did today, but it was hard on my body. The movement was difficult on my bad hip and the weight lifting gave my RSD arm the shakes for at least 20 minutes. I ended up using my inhaler after having an asthma attack in the car. And all of this makes me think I need this even more... but it also makes me feel like the biggest loser (HA) for letting myself get to this point. I looked at myself in the mirror while I pushed my body and I hated who I saw.

Tough Questions

2011-10-04T16:26:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, we forget that Zoe isn't actually a teenager what with her vocabulary, sense of humor and intelligence. She watches us and the world around her so carefully and she really does take it all in. My little girl has an old soul. I remember thinking it as I watched her sleep as a newborn. I remember telling her not to grow up too fast when she slammed her door on me and quickly turned on her radio and cranked it loud; she was, after all - barely one year old.

I worry sometimes, (like I'm sure all parents do) about how much she is like me. I witness her sensitivity on a daily basis. I see her eyes well up quickly if she accidentally makes a mess or if her little brother picks on her. I worry that I've let her see me cry too many times and that I've made her feel less than safe.

Our accident of course comes to mind here. I can still hear myself screaming and crying as that truck hit us. I wonder if she remembers? I wonder if she feels the same fear I do that it will happen again? I can't go back and change my reaction to that event, I know - but I can't help but wonder if I damaged her that day.

A year ago tomorrow, Zoe's Grandpa Rick passed away suddenly. I remember where I was when I got the news. I had Finn with me and we had just picked up Zoe at preschool. I'd missed a call from Daniel's mom and I quickly called her back once I had the kids loaded into their car seats. I stayed as calm as I could on the phone, trying to be strong for Daniel's mom and trying not to scare the kids, but when I hung up and realized what I'd just been told and that I'd need to tell Daniel - I lost it. My hands shook and I cried as I called Kristina, Meg, and then my own father to tell them the news and to ask for help.

The kids didn't get what was happening. Finn was not quite 2 and Zoe 3 and a half. We tried to explain it as best we could though, that Grandpa was watching over us now and that we didn't get to see him anymore. A year later, I don't know that we've figured out a better way to explain it. I just know that Zoe is extremely curious about what it all means. Death. Most of the time, she doesn't understand the finality of it. Sometimes though, her questions lead to whether or not Daniel and I will ever go away and not come back. We struggle with this because we don't want to lie to her - so we tell her that we'll be with her as long as she needs us and that even then we'll always be close by. Sometimes I give in and I tell her very definitively: "No. I will never, ever leave you." She usually follows this conversation up with "Will you always keep me safe? No matter what? What if there's a fire? Will you save me?" These aren't the questions you really prepare yourself for when you become a parent. They are hard, scary questions, but I know they're even scarier for her.

She didn't do well with me being in rehearsals for Hay Fever and going to my performances was just as difficult because it broke our nighttime routine that she and I have. She was very emotional and told me repeatedly that she was worried I might not come back. I know she needs to learn that it's OK for me to leave and that I'll be back... but it didn't make it any easier for us to have her go through that. I felt very difficult for taking time away from my family to do something for me when it affected Zoe the way it did. Of course I want to make everything better and have her feel secure and safe.

This afternoon, Zoe and Daniel were talking about dinosaurs. I don't know the exact specifics of their conversation, but I guess she wanted to know where they went - why we don't see dinosaurs anymore. Again, I don't know exactly what happened, but Daniel told her that the dinosaurs got old and died. And this of course led to how everyone dies. "Even babies?!" Zoe asked. Seeing that this conversation had exploded into something we were not wanting to tackle during lunch, Daniel quickly told her no, not babies. Babies grow up and old and live happy lives before they die. The subject was dropped and it was like we'd dodged a bullet. Hooray! But if you know my daughter (or me) you know that her calm acknowledgement of this explanation was out of character. Moments later she was sobbing because Daniel was heading back to work. We quickly distracted her and calmed her down before he left and again I thought we were in the clear. Crisis averted.

Crisis NOT averted. Twenty minutes later Zoe looked at me - her eyes were welling up fast.

"Are you going to get old soon?"
"Not for a while yet. I'm still young."
"Are Nana and Baba and Grammy old?"
"They're older than Mommy and Daddy."
"Are they going to die soon?"
"No, honey. Not soon. Let's not worry about that."
"You're going to leave me. You're going to get old and leave me. We all die! I don't want to get older. I don't want to grow up! I don't want to die, I'm scared!"

Meanwhile, her little brother (who does not understand but is picking up on the repetition of a certain word) begins shouting "Die! Die! You're going to die. We're going to die. Zoo-ey, don't cry. We die! Ya!" He thinks he's cheering her up. He thinks he's saying something very funny, but doesn't get why she's not laughing at him and why I'm very calmly but firmly asking him to "Please, stop."

I called Daniel. One, she needed to be comforted by both of us. She needed both of our reassurances. And two, hell if I was going to deal with this one on my own. I'm not the one who said everyone dies (even if it is completely true). Together we did what we could to calm her down. I held her on my lap and told her it was going to be OK, that we didn't need to worry and Daniel told her the same thing from speaker phone. I wiped her tears away and we quickly changed the subject to Halloween decorations (ours went up shortly after we hung up with Daniel) and cookies and milkshakes. Yay, milkshakes!

She and Finn are napping now and I'm trying to breathe. Trying to recover from a highly dramatic afternoon with tough questions from an almost 5 year old. I don't remember being this afraid when I was her age. I don't remember being aware of things like death and tragedy. All I know is I want to make everything better. I want her to feel safe and secure. I want to know that I'm not somehow screwing up.

Hay Fever

2011-09-21T21:52:00.000-07:00

A little over a year ago, I pitched a show for The Empty Space. It was a good pitch for a project that I was passionate about doing. I had a connection with the show for years - doing it fresh out of high school, relating to it as recently separated woman dealing with a tiresome divorce and then again as a mother of two young children. I connected with a director who I knew would do the piece justice, who I very much wanted to work with and become friends with. Everything fell into place perfectly.

But we decided not to do the piece I had wanted to do. The timing wasn't right and we were concerned about the large size of the cast and the limitations we'd need to overcome. We decided to put that show on the backburner and we chose another. We entertained various options until we made our final decision: Hay Fever by Noel Coward.

For months, all my extra energy went toward the show. I spent hours online searching for costume pieces and doing research for the actor's packets. I delved into Coward's life. I made multiple inspiration boards for hair, clothing and furniture of the 20's. I appealed to friends and family to help us by loaning us pieces from their homes. I haggled with consignment stores and practically harrassed a tuxedo shop owner. I watched British movies, YouTube videos and television shows. I spoke to my children in various Bristish accents and I read them their books/sang to them in "Clara's voice" until they were doing their best British accents too.

When this all started, I knew I wanted to help produce a high quality show. I wanted to be a part of a big project and challenge myself in ways I hadn't challenged myself in years. I wanted to feel like I was a part of something and I was hoping that during the process I'd make some new friends and some good memories. I feel like I reached all of my goals. I am so proud of the work we did, but most of all I am grateful for the opportunity to work with Jennifer and the cast. I admire all of them and I am humbled to get to call them friends.

Our show closes this weekend. If you've seen Hay Fever, thank you very much for being a part of it. If you haven't, you have two more chances (Friday and Saturday night at 8pm) to see what all the buzz is about. Help us spread the word. Help us fill our houses. Help us give this show the send off it deserves - you'll be glad you did. :)

Birthday Shmirfday

2011-08-30T14:18:00.000-07:00

I turn 35 tomorrow and I'm feeling bummed about it. I know that's silly. It's not so much the getting older - it beats the alternative, right? Birthdays just feel sort of lonely; they have for years. I had no friends during my first marriage (I wasn't allowed to aside from the people I worked with and I needed to keep those relationships professional) and there was never any celebrations unless he let my parents be involved. My big yearly gift for six years was that he would try not to yell or be mean to me, but I always did something to screw that up. I couldn't just let him be a nice guy, I was always doing something wrong.

I know that I am lucky. I have a best friend who also happens to be my husband and we have two beautiful children. We laugh every day and I know that I am far from the life I used to have.

Birthdays just feel anticlimactic, I guess. It doesn't feel any different from any other day, it just feels the same. I try to be excited about them, but I'm not and I feel like I should be. And I guess when people ask me what my big plans are for "My day", I feel like an asshole with no friends because I don't have any plans at all.

Here We Go Again

2011-08-27T15:54:00.000-07:00

Last night, Daniel and I attended rehearsal for Hay Fever and then stayed a bit for the after party. We’d have loved to stay longer, but it needed to be an early night for us so we could relieve our new babysitter by 9:30. We left in good spirits. I snagged a cookie as we were leaving (a roadie) and I was happy. It was my second rehearsal since coming down with the plague (I didn’t actually have the plague, per se) and it felt great to be out of the house and with friends.

Our rehearsal space is a quick jaunt from our house. We like to say that the Taylor’s are our neighbors even if they don’t live next door, exactly.... ten minutes is practically down the block. Easy. We were right on schedule for walking in our door at 9:30 when we hit a red light. We stopped (because that's what you do at red lights: STOP) and chatted very relaxed and cheerfully as we waited for our green. I remember thinking it felt like a long red light considering there wasn’t really anyone else out when all of a sudden we were hit from behind.

It was jarring. It was shocking. Daniel had left a cushion in front of us so we didn’t hit the truck directly in front of us. We both yelled. I started crying. My neck and back immediately felt hot with throbbing pain. Part of me braced myself to be hit again, but thankfully, there was nothing. We just sat there and Daniel kept telling me we were OK. The light turned green and the truck in front of us went on their way. I think Daniel got out of the car and told the person that hit us that we’d get through the intersection and then exchange information.

Daniel pulled onto the side of the road and got out to talk to the other driver. I was shaking and crying, but I reached for my phone to text a friend/cast member. Silly, I know, but I was in shock. I wanted my friends who we had just left (and who I wished I was hanging out with at that very moment) to know what had happened. And then I got out of the truck. I wanted to see who had hit us this time. I wanted to know what the hell their problem was. The light was red. Why hadn’t they stopped or slowed down? What the hell is wrong with this town and their lack of attention to red lights?!

The girl who hit us didn’t seem phased. She was pretty and stylishly dressed and in a hurry. I think she apologized, but I wasn’t feeling particularly forgiving. Daniel did most of the talking. I walked to our truck and looked for bumper damage ( I didn’t see any then, but today we can see a slight ding). I pushed down on our bumper, half expecting it to fall into the dirt, but it didn't. I walked back to her BMW SUV (her father’s fiance’s, actually) to look for damage. Her license plate was bent and I pointed out some marks on the left corner of her front bumper, “Oh, that’s from another accident. I’m a great driver.” She might have giggled, or I might be projecting what an idiot I think she is. Either way, this was no biggie to her. It was a biggie for us. When all was said and done, Daniel and I walked back to our truck and I yelled out "Drive safely!" I was tempted to add "idiot" or something worse, but I refrained.

I think having gotten through our accident two years ago, I’d told myself we’d just never have another. That felt better and sort of got me more comfortable with driving because how could we be put through that again, right? It was better than what I’d previously felt: The world (Bakersfield especially) is full of inconsiderate, asshole drivers and we’re constantly putting ourselves and our children in danger every time we get in the car. I had been coping and I've made progress in the last two years. I had become less afraid to drive short distances from our house. I told myself that I needed to be aware while I was driving, but that there was no sense being afraid while I waited at intersections. I told myself it was normal to have anxiety when my vehicle was moving, but that the likelihood of another accident was slim to none - I certainly didn’t expect to get hit while STOPPED at a red light.

Anyway. I am frustrated about last night. I’m angry at the college girl who hit us. I know accidents/fender benders happen all the time - I just feel like she had a blatant disregard for anyone else on the road and that once she did hit us, she was indifferent about the whole thing. We became an insignificant obstacle in her Friday night plans - no harm, no fowl - moving on.

My neck and back and hips are killing me and I had too many nightmares last night. Lucky for me, they were only dreams and I’ve got kind friends and family who understand how this affects me. Oh, and I’m very grateful knowing I have a friend who just happens to be a massage therapist. Now it is time for some healing, I don’t need this right now (or ever again, thanks).

What He Says

2011-08-09T22:38:00.000-07:00

Finn didn't start talking as soon as Zoe did - he didn't need to. Zoe would talk for herself and for him and he seemed alright with that set up for a while. And then slowly the watchful boy started making up his own language. Zoe caught on quickly, helping us translate and so began "Finn speak".

"Bye-bye's" were any type of transportation there was, but now they're just cars. He says airplane, truck, bus, train now. He will also say "I wanna go bye-bye." which means exactly what it sounds like or it means he wants to go to the car.

"Nigh-nigh" is bedtime and bedroom (it's a universal term).

"Zoo-ee" is Zoe

"Ra-ra's" are dogs and sometimes they're lions too, but only sometimes.

He says Mama, Mom, Dad, Daddy, Baba, Nana, Grammy, Cheryl and Chuck.

He says Yes, No, Please, Thank you, Welcome, I love you and I'm sorry.

"Juice" is any liquid.

Recently, he's started naming all the colors when he sees them, but he will also identify red as "Not blue." (Blue is his favorite color.)

He knows that A is for apple... and he can name many other words for each letter of the alphabet.

He can count to 3.

He says "I need diaper change." and "I don't need diaper change." He tells us he's "Poopin" even when he's not at all - he just likes that we jump out of our seats and try to take him to the potty.

He will tell us when he is mad and be very emphatic about it.

He says "I dance" either just before or while he is showing us his latest moves.

He likes to say "Watch this!" and then he'll do some jump or "I'm hopping!" or "Hi-yah!" when he's doing Karate.

He will repeat after us now and he likes playing alphabet games and working with his sister. I have no doubt that he has been listening very closely to us and has been waiting for when he wanted to open up and speak more. It seems like just in the last week or so his vocabulary has grown immensely.

He will tell me he is my baby and that he is "Not the baby!" and I am proud and sad and... mostly proud every time.

I watch these kids every day and I am amazed by their big personalities and by how intelligent and observant they are. Children truly are sponges - absorbing every thing you say and do.

If he really wants to make a point, he says "You hear me?" and I do. I'm listening to every word, Finnegan.

Reconstruction

2011-07-26T15:22:00.000-07:00

I’m not a petite person. If you called me thin, slim or skinny, it would be because it’s opposite day. I guess you could say I’m curvy. I was this way before I had my two beautiful kids and I’m even more so now. In any case, I’m definitely plus sized. I’d love to not be plus sized and occasionally I get the inclination to make life changes to be a healthier person, but more often than not I give in to stress eating or just ridiculous cravings. It’s something I beat myself up over every single day. I don’t need other people beating me up too.

For the past few months, I’ve been getting weekly emails from the medical group that I go to for all my “women’s health” needs. I signed up for these emails when I registered for their web portal. I was promised the ability to “receive timely health information, manage [my] own health care, and stay in touch with [my] physicians”. Sounds good, right? Well, in recent weeks I’ve repeatedly received messages about how I can now receive a free consultation for facial, breast &/or body reconstructive surgery. One email notification would have been enough to get their message out to the people who were interested. The constant resending of their message is now bordering on harassment.

At first I was shocked and frustrated when I got these notifications. Here’s the thing: Now, I’m mad.

And it’s a shame because their patients trust them. As women, we go to their offices at our most vulnerable and endure uncomfortable exams because we have to. We trust them to take care of our infertility issues, diagnose us with STD’s, and aid us in early detection of different cancers. We go to them seeking advice about the right form of contraception, and when we need help balancing our diet and becoming healthier. We trust them with the prenatal care of our most precious cargo and we go to them at our weakest when a pregnancy fails or we’re struggling with postpartum depression. They are the bearer of some of the happiest and saddest news a woman will ever hear, witnesses to the major events in our lives.

When I chose this medical group as my provider, I trusted them to take care of me. I trusted them with my health and well being. I think they broke that trust by forcing that email at me week after week. I expected them to be my advocate, to be on my “team” instead of making me feel like the only way to fix myself is to go out and have major surgery. I understand that there are women out there who want to alter their bodies with surgery. There’s a demand out there and they are helping supply this service. I understand that this medical group is trying to utilize their contacts with their patients and turn it into another source of income, but I think their doing so will cost them patients who have gone to them for years - like myself.

There could have been a compromise. I think they could have given patients the option to request information on the various “Beauty” procedures they offered consultations on. I think it would have been a smart idea to see if their patients were even interested in those type of services before they pushed them at us weekly. I think to offset the message they were sending, they might have sent out info about the nutritional services they offer. Links to health articles and more information on early detection and prevention would have been a smart move and beneficial. They were so busy focusing on how to make more money, they lost focus on how they could reach out to their patients with a positive message. They could have empowered us to create healthy changes instead of making us second guess our bodies and our beauty.

I think they should be ashamed of that. Don't you?

Boys Will Be Boys

2011-03-10T08:09:00.000-08:00

I should start off by saying that I think the whole idea that because Finn is a boy we are destined to lots of accidents, stitches, broken limbs, etc is totally not cool. Not cool, but (let's face it) still very true. Just about anyone who has ever met my son knows he's... um, active. He lives to climb trees, walls, bookcases, dressers, dollhouses, etc. My son looks at everything in terms of "Can I scale it?" or "Can I demolish it?" or "Can I build something, scale it and then demolish it?"

Just this past Monday I was telling friends that I'm of the mind that he needs to fall a few times and learn that he's not invincible, and that maybe then he'd quit climbing. Other people watch him do what he loves best and I can see them having internal freak outs. Daniel and I, on the other hand just shake our heads and let him have at it. It's not that we want him to get hurt, we were just kind of indifferent to it. We were waiting for the inevitable and there was no sense getting ourselves worked up every time he nearly had an accident. If I'd allowed myself to stress as much as others do, I might live my entire life fearful of the trouble my kids may or may not get themselves into.

All the climbing caught up with Finnegan Tuesday. He was climbing up the side of the bench in our kitchen so he could eat his "after nap snack"with Zoe. He wasn't moving especially fast and he wasn't doing anything he hasn't done dozens of times a day for the last year or more, but he was up kind of high and lost his footing. I saw it happen and rushed from the sink to the table to help, but I wasn't fast enough and he smacked his eye on the edge of the table before I could catch him. There was instantly a lot of screaming and crying and blood. After I'd scooped him up into my arms, applied pressure with the nearest cloth napkin to try to stop the bleeding and simultaneously attempted to calm a worried Zoe, I grabbed my phone and started making arrangements.

Daniel got a text: "Please come home Finn cut eyebrow"

The pediatricians office got a call telling them Finn had cut his brow open and that it was bleeding so much, I wanted them to see it. They said they'd see us in fifteen minutes. That was enough time to quickly change his diaper, grab his juice and then load up the kids. I called Daniel from the car and asked him to meet us down the street at Zoe's preschool so we could all drive together.

Zoe tried to calm Finn from the moment he got hurt. She told him he would be OK, that she and Mommy would take care of him. She tried singing all the songs to him that I sing to her when she is upset. When he continued to shriek and scream and cry, she suggested I just let him eat his jello like he had wanted. She told him the doctor would help him, she told him she hoped he wouldn't need a shot.

When the nurse saw Finn, she immediately said he'd need stitches. One of the doctors at the practice came in and confirmed stitches were needed, but he wanted the kids regular doctor to confirm since she was the one who normally did sutures. Before we knew it we had our doctor and five nurses in the exam room staring at Finn and agreeing that the boy needed stitches and that he needed to go to the ER to get them since he'd need sedation. They emphatically told us, "Do NOT let them talk you into glue! He needs stitches!" I was a little bit shocked because I'd half expected them to tell us it was just a surface cut and that I'd rushed us all in for nothing. I'd sort of imagined everyone laughing at the crazy mom who had always been so nonchalant about her sons escapades and now she thought a scratch was cause for going to the doctor. I briefly felt validated because I'd recognized that this cut deserved attention. And then I realized we had a long stay in the ER ahead of us so being right suddenly sucked.

I think we felt a little relieved when we saw only a few other people waiting in the ER to be seen. But our sense of humor and calmness became less present as our stay grew longer. We'd gone through triage quickly, but because Finn's doc said he needed stitches and sedation, we were kicked to the bottom of the list. We watched dozens of people come and go. People who were obviously very sick and people who looked healthy by comparison. It was frustrating, but we were grateful to not be there under worse circumstances. We waited 4 and a half hours before we were taken in back.

The first nurse to see Finn once we were in the actual emergency room told us he wouldn't need stitches, just glue - and I nearly lost it. "No. His pediatrician saw him and was emphatic we get him sedation and stitches." After talking with the ER doctor we decided to go ahead with the glue. Partly because he made us feel silly for wanting to listen to our doctor when he said he sees cases like this every day and he felt we should do the glue instead... but mostly, we were tired and the idea of sedating Finn and putting him through the stress of getting stitches, having them removed a few days later and then scarring his eyelid indefinitely sounded very unappealing. So they wrapped him up in a sheet like a little burrito so he couldn't thrash about, and they carefully applied three coats of the dermaglue to his eyelid. He stayed still and calmly listened to me sing to him and then we were done. Easy.

As we were waiting to be signed out, we watched as a team of nurses, doctors and a paramedic escorted a newborn to an ambulance to be transported to another hospital. She was tiny and swaddled up and I could see from the faces of the people walking with her that she was very sick. I wondered what was wrong with her and I thought about her parents - I assumed they would give anything to be in our shoes... sitting with an otherwise healthy toddler who'd gotten a cut from climbing. I imagined that 6 hours in an ER wouldn't have phased them because their baby was there and they knew worse things could happen. I thought of the little girl we'd seen in the waiting room who might have been 9 months (but no more) who's parents cussed (too much) when they were talking to her and each other, called her a brat repeatedly and when she was fussing asked her if she'd like one of them to give her an "attitude adjustment". At the end of the day, our experience in the ER wasn't ideal - but we were leaving happy and healthy and maybe even more aware about how lucky we are to have our little family, each other and good friends and family who love us and are there for us when we need them.

Adventures in Parenting*

2011-03-03T11:15:00.000-08:00

* - This post is about bodily functions and potty training. If you are going to be grossed out by this (maybe you should read "Everyone Poops") you should probably just click out of this and go do something else. If you're not afraid (or you are an experienced potty trainer and/or parent/parent-to-be) go ahead and read this. Just don't say I didn't warn you. ;)

About an hour ago I was sitting at my computer working on trying to write (which hasn’t come easily at all for a long time now) when all of a sudden I felt something warm on my foot. Like, shock to the system warm that immediately made my brain think I was bleeding, except there was no pain. I looked down at my foot and then up at my son who was completely naked. He had just peed on me. Inside, I screamed (because EW! he just peed ON MY FOOT!) but on the outside, I was calm. Well, fairly calm.

“Finnegan Emery. We’re not supposed to pee on people!”

He looked at me with that lower lip sticking far out (he’s REALLY mastered the art of pouting) and wide eyes that quickly welled with tears.

“OK, honey. We’re OK. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

He took my hand and led me to the back of the house towards his bedroom.

But instead of leading me to his room and changing table, he walked me into the bathroom.

“Do you want to go more?” **

“Uh huh!”

At first he stood, but he quickly told me no and sat down. And then he peed. At first just a little bit, but then a lot more. He was beaming - first surprise at what he had just done and then big smiles and maniacal laugh. There was much cheering and clapping and congratulatory hugs. Then we put a “Big Boy Pull Up” on him and made some calls to family members so they could congratulate him.

With each phone call he stood proud with his fists at his hips and his chest pushed out like Superman. When his Cheryl and his Daddy told him how proud they were of him he instinctively rubbed his chest in a circle, nodded and said, “Tanks.”

** - At this point in my writing Finn came running up to me naked again. My phone was on the floor in the bathroom and there was pee in the potty. Woohoo!

We’ve since had even more successes. We’ve also had him ripping off his pull up in one full sweep like a mini stripper and then running around our living room like a wild animal, yelling “YAAAAAAY!” and “RAWR!” Because I learn from my mistakes, I’ve put a pair of pants on over his current pull up that are easy to pull down quickly and that seems to have tamed my little Tarzan. Every fifteen minutes or so I ask him if he’d like to go potty and he tells me yes or no and regardless of his answer does a quick lap around our living room before settling down or running back to the bathroom. This is quite the adventure this time around, much more of a wild ride than with Zoe. Any one have any tips for us?

Today

2011-02-14T15:32:00.000-08:00

Daniel and I met a little less than a month before Valentine’s Day 2003. We both said we were happy not being in relationships. We were having fun. We were friends who had a lot of fun together as much as we possibly could. As February 14th approached, we made fun of all the hoopla and dramatics.

As Valentine’s Day approached I told myself to play it cool. Yes, I was falling in love and I was totally scared of the implications of that. No, I was not going to let on to how I was really feeling.

But that didn’t stop me from making him a Valentine. My first homemade Valentine, ever.

I remember stretching out on the floor and carefully choosing the words and images I wanted to paste to the background.

My quick, easy, not serious Valentine turned into a bit more of a project than I’d set out wanting it to be. By the time I was done, it was actually a series. Not one card, but 4 carefully thought out collages.

We had a show that night and I was picking Daniel up so that we could drive together. When I got out of my car I considered shoving my creations under the seat and telling him I didn’t “Do” the whole hearts thing, but somehow I gathered the courage to not do that. I walked up the stairs to his apartment and I nervously handed him what I’d made, not at all expecting anything in return. He handed me a book of Rumi that he’d written inside the front cover of especially for me.

We didn’t have the time to go to a restaurant that night and really, we said we were against all that - so we ate at his place. Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches with Cheetos on the side and Coca-Cola. We ate on the floor of his living room and listened to music before heading off to do our show and it was perfect. The 1st/Best Valentine’s Day I’d ever (really) had.

So now eight years later, we have these little monkeys who are not the cynics that grown ups sometimes are about this day. Last night as they were sleeping, I decorated a bit: big red hearts on the walls, hanging from our ceiling fans and a couple heart wreaths here and there. When they woke up this morning they “Ooh-ed and Aah-ed”. They love the balloons and flowers and hearts. They like the excuse to celebrate and eat things like yummy homemade (by Kristina Saldana!) cupcakes. They enjoy the cards and the festivity. And as Zoe tells me “I love you MORE, mommy!” and Finn yells “I love MOM-MOM!” I can’t help but hope that they always enjoy February 14th as much as they do now. They are surrounded by love 365 days a year, 24 hours a day... but I would love it if they took all the opportunities they’re given to remind themselves and the ones close to them how wonderful love can be.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

Happy New Year!

2011-01-01T11:21:00.001-08:00

There were parts of last year that were rough. If you know us well, you know what I am talking about, so I’m not going to do a recap. Been there, lived through all that. Moving on.

There were also plenty of joys. The births in our family and chosen family and pregnancies announced. Weddings, engagements and anniversaries. Taco nights at our house. Hat parades. Dance parties. Baking/Cooking with the kids. Buying our home. Finding purpose by becoming involved with my favorite non-profit theatre. Time behind my camera, working on my craft.

So what will this year hold for me and mine? I’m not sure. But I’m feeling optimistic and hopeful of what lies ahead. I’m not really a resolution person normally, but I do have a wish/goal list:

1. Eating healthy and continuing with my work to be a healthier person. Cutting out red meat and pork helped me a great deal last year. 2011 is the year I will see more dramatic changes.

2. Cooking at home even more and having people over more. Movie and game nights. Potlucks. Hat parades. Dance parties. Etc. My family is blessed with great friends - we want to see them more. It is good for us.

3. We will donate more of our time and resources to our community to make it a better place.

4. I want to keep working on my photography and gain more confidence to go after what I want.

5. Reading and writing more.

6. Getting back on stage. Helping to produce great theatre however I can.

7. More date nights with Daniel.

8. Being easier on myself. I am my worst critic - I need to change that.

9. Working on our home - replacing this 14 year old carpet, having a painting party, etc.

10. And lastly (for now) 2011 will be the end of diaper changes. I might be most excited for that.

What Zoe Is Thankful For

2010-11-11T06:14:00.000-08:00

Instead of reading a bedtime story last night with Zoe, I sat with her in her bed with a pen and notebook and asked her what she was thankful for.

* Note: Everyone in Zoe's life is very special, but I think it really says something if you were listed individually because it's really hard for a three year old to not want to list every single toy instead of actual people. I know... because I had to suggest after baby dolls that maybe we think of some other things.

The following is the list (with some extra commentary) as she told me:

"I'm thankful for....

Mommy.
Snow White.
Daddy.
Kitty cats.
Cameras.
My baby dolls. And I'm thankful for my panda., and... "Let's not just list toys, OK?"
Alright.
I'm thankful for water.
And Max and Bailey
Butterflies.
And Grammy.
Aunt Sadie.
My Grandpa.
Nana & Baba.
Daddy's friend, Sam... he's nice. (She just met him yesterday)
Cheryl and Chuck-Chuck.
Ellie. Eleanor.
MaryEllen.
Chelsea.
NIki.
Noe...write down Noe, Mama. (She hasn't seen Noe in like, a year - but she talks about her constantly.)
Molly.
Meg & Adam. (She calls Meg her "Big Sister".)
Tinkerbell... who came to our home. (Our friend, Natily)
Disneyland.
All princesses, really.
For being on stage. The big, big stage.
My cousin, Kristina. (She's decided Kristina is her cousin.)
Aunt Alison.
Aunt Ashley and Uncle Justin.
My baby, Oliver. (HER baby. How cute is that?)
I'm thankful for playgrounds.
My school.
My school friends.
Our house.
Peaches and pears. Daddy doesn't like pears."Your daddy likes pears!" Well, I like pears.
I'm thankful for pear juice.
And food.
Like... strawberries.
Strawberry Kiwi juice - because I like to drink it every single day and right now, please. "Not now."
OK.
Finnegan.
For my nice, nice mommy. (I think she was thinking of asking me for juice again.)
Sunshine.
Flowers.
All my dresses and costumes.
Music.
I'm thankful because I like dancing.
All the single ladies, all the single ladies. Put your hands up!
I'm thankful for singing.
And China.
And Japan.
And what country are we in again? "The United States."
I'm thankful for the United States.
For.... stars.
And books.
My crayons.
And Molly. (She really misses Molly hence listing her twice.)
I'm thankful for dance class.
And Miss Jennifer.
And Miss Viv.
Miss Kim because she has a sweet little baby, did you know that? "Yes. He is sweet. She's nice too, huh?"
Yes. I'm thankful for Miss Kimmmm and Miss Linda....
And I'm thankful when I'm playing games with Jack... "LOL! Yes. Jack is fun, isn't he?"
Yes.
I'm thankful for my nice warm bed.
And glitter...
For my hatsie hatsie hats.
I'm thankful for my books.
And for bubble baths.
I'm thankful for shopping.

What about you, my mommy? What are you thankful for?
"How about we talk about that tomorrow night?"
OK. Good night, my mommy. I love you. I like making lists."
"Me too, baby. I love you."

The Spirit of Giving

2010-11-08T00:51:00.000-08:00

I posted this on facebook Saturday night and as of Sunday morning, I had people committing to give 13 turkeys* (or their equivalent) to shelters in their area. I thought I'd go ahead and post this for you all to participate as well.

Daniel had only known me a week or so and he was giving me all the money I needed to pay for a (full course load) semesters tuition at Bakersfield Community College plus money for books. He saw that I wanted to go and he went to his parents for help so that I could. In the nearly eight years we have been together I have watched him hand over spare change all the way up to a twenty dollar bill (because that was all he had) to people who asked him. There was a time when this completely caught me off guard. Twenty dollars, to a stranger, who might end up using it for something silly. He has always treated the people he is handing the money over to with a dignity that I think they are not given often enough. He is always humble to their exclamations of "God bless you!" and "THANK YOU!"

My husbands generosity and kindness are two of the things that made me fall in love with him. His trust and faith in people are also high on that list. Once when I pointed out that the people in the Target parking lot who have "no money to get gas for their trip to see their sick aunt in L.A" were probably pulling a scam. His response was, regardless, they probably needed that ten bucks more than we did. He was right, I'm sure.

Daniel has taught me to be more trusting of people. We don't have a ton of money. We live paycheck to paycheck like most people. We have to budget and we get stressed every time we sit down to pay our bills, but we are in a much better situation than so many people, so we try to help when/where we can.

Since being pregnant with Zoe, I've made a specific effort to pay it forward to charities. Something about being blessed with a child when I never thought I'd be able to get pregnant at all has made me want to be even more charitable. It is very important to me that my children grow up wanting to help others so even at their young ages, I enlist their help in picking out toys for toys for tots,etc.

This year I was invited to take part in a friends goal to get 34** turkeys donated to local shelters by Nov. 16th.

"You could drive the bird down to your local shelter or donate the cost of a turkey ($12) to a shelter's website."

My family is donating 2 turkeys - one for each child.

I thought I'd extend this goal/invite to friends Jennifer and I don't necessarily share (and to whomever reads my blog) because I think it's important to make a commitment to help people in our communities. Also, I thought if I can't wish you a Happy Thanksgiving in person, this is something we can all still do "together".

If you'd like to participate in the turkey-a-thon, just comment below or on my wall (and I'll let my pen pal and new in person friend, Jennifer know) with what you plan to give and if you'd like, the community*** that you are giving to.

Thank you, friends and... Gobble GOBBLE! ;)

* - I have a lot of vegetarian friends who wanted to participate, but not by giving meat. What I suggested to them is that they give what they want/can: Other food items, clothing, coats, money, time, etc are all just as needed (if not more so) than a turkey.
** -Last I'd checked, my friend's tally was at 16.
*** - I've had people offer to send me money so that I can donate to my community. While I appreciate their help, the truth is - in every community there is someone in need.

Kids Are Silly

2010-10-21T19:31:00.000-07:00

KNOCK KNOCK!

WHO'S THERE?

PUMPKIN!

PUMPKIN, WHO?!

PUMPKIN HEAD!

AH HA HA HA HA HA HA !!!!!

Loss

2010-10-20T11:05:00.000-07:00

I’d been thinking for a while that it had been too long since I’ve written either of my children a letter. For those of you who have been reading my blog (or my facebook notes) for the past few years, you might remember that this was at least a monthly occurrence with Zoe that dwindled a bit when I was pregnant with Finnegan and then pretty much stopped completely once he was born. At least, the public postings stopped. I’ve continued writing my love letters to my children - notes about how much they’ve grown or changed, letters about significant events in their lives, etc. But the last few months had seemed especially hectic and I had stopped writing even the private ones. I had resolved to start again a few weeks ago. And then TWO weeks ago happened and spinned our world upside down and I could barely think in complete sentences to try to explain to either child what was going on.

So on our drive to Texas two weeks ago today, I decided I would write a letter to Zoe and Finn. I’ve put it off til now.

My Dearest Zoe and Finnegan,

This is one of the hardest letters I have ever written to you because I do so with a heavy heart. This is not one of my love letters to you where I tell you funny anecdotes about the silly, cute, smart things you do on a daily basis. This is sad and it breaks my heart - but I feel like I need to write these words while they are still fresh because I want you to understand the loss we have experienced. So here goes...

Two weeks ago today, we were starting our long journey to San Antonio to be with Grammy Donna and Aunt Sadie. On October 5, 2010, your Grandpa Rick passed away suddenly from a heart attack. He was 60 years old and it was entirely too soon.

Despite your young ages (Zoe, age 3 and Finnegan, 22 months) it was important to your Daddy and I that we try to explain (to at least Zoe) what had happened. We told you that we wouldn’t get to see Grandpa Rick anymore. We explained that he had gone to “adult heaven”, which is right next to “Doggy Heaven” so he is able to visit with Buffy and all of our friends and family that are watching over us and waiting for us with him now.

I think one of the hardest things for your Daddy and I is knowing that you both really did not have enough time with Grandpa. We didn’t have enough visits and we always thought there would be more time to fix this. We imagined that one day we’d move back to Texas and you’d see Grandpa all the time. It makes me sad that you will not know him like we did. I thought if I could write to you now about Grandpa that you could read this later and feel closer to him.

So I’m going to begin at the beginning.

I knew I loved your Daddy within a month of us dating, but it was really a couple months later when he took me home to Texas to meet his family that I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I think we’d been in Grammy and Grandpa’s kitchen for less than an hour and I felt like I was a part of their family right away. Both of them opened their home to me and made me feel welcome. I laughed with them and listened to old stories and saw what great people they were and I felt like I belonged. I watched your Daddy interact with his parents and I saw how much they all loved and enjoyed being around each other.

I wish I had written down all the funny stories/good times so that I could tell you about all of them.

I do recall a toast... no, a PRAYER that first night where Grammy referred to me as your Daddy’s “lover” (one day you will understand and you will be a little embarrassed that I am telling you this) and despite us not quite living together, mentioned us having children someday and we all laughed so hard (Grandpa included) that there were tears in our eyes.

I remember that your Grandpa Rick took us on tours of downtown San Antonio, the Riverwalk, and the Alamo. He knew and loved history. If he saw tourists who looked like they needed directions, he would help them. I seem to recall he even stopped everything he was doing to give a guided tour to “strangers” once. But your Grandpa Rick never really met a stranger. He was your friend the moment you met him. He had a way of welcoming everyone and making them comfortable. He liked to talk and he liked to listen. He had a great laugh and a smile that lit a room.

Grandpa Rick hated cheese, but liked pizza. He grilled a great steak. I used to eat raw oysters with him.

On one visit to Texas, I stayed with Grammy and Grandpa for a few days while your Dad went on a camping “Bachelors weekend” at Leaky. Some people might dread staying with their boyfriend’s parents alone, but I had a blast with them. We hung out in their kitchen and out on the patio. We walked around downtown and spent an afternoon cleaning out a storage unit. We went to a pub and your grandparents got me drunk on Guinness (when I had a half full glass, Grandpa would order another for me and then tell me to drink up so the 2nd and 3rd wouldn't get warm) and asked me if your Daddy and I were thinking about marriage (we were, but I didn’t tell).

On one of Grammy and Grandpa’s visits to California, (the visit where they met Nana & Baba for the 1st time and we celebrated my 28th birthday) they came to see me and Daddy in our closing performance of West Side Story. In one of the last scenes, Mommy & Daddy got to dance together - seeing us on stage dancing, brought tears to your Grandpa’s eyes.

Your Grandpa was a strong man. He was optimistic and realistic and he liked to solve problems. He used to say “I don’t get sick. I make people sick.” He also made people laugh, especially me. He was a big John Wayne fan and he loved his state, Texas. He and I had a running “competition” between California and Texas. I think we always looked forward to telling each other what was better about “our” states.

When your Daddy called Grandpa to tell him we were getting married, your Grandpa said “Well, I figured.” It was no surprise to him. I think he was very happy that we decided to tie the knot in San Antonio and I know he enjoyed playing host to all of our guests. The morning of our wedding, Grandpa got up early to give your Aunt Alison and Aunt Sharon a tour of the Alamo. There were all sorts of things that needed to be done to get ready for the reception that evening, but he was more than happy to share some Texas history with some Californians.

Grandpa Rick was so excited to be a grandfather. He loved you both so much and was so proud of you. He was so great with both of you.

- When I was about 7 months pregnant with Zoe, we had to visit Texas for an emergency. Grandpa Rick made sure I rested, ate and was taken care of. I was carrying “very precious cargo” and he told me it would be OK if I went ahead and gave birth to Zoe in Texas.

- He visited California with Grammy Donna for each of your first Christmas’.

- The 1st time he changed Zoe’s diaper, he put it on backwards.

- He gave Zoe the Spurs hat off of his head because she wanted it.

- He sat with Zoe and watched hours of Baby Einstein while Mommy and Daddy went to movies and Grammy Donna, Nana and Baba were sick (he just shook his head that all these people were sick but him - remember, he didn’t get sick).

- Zoe was Grandpa Rick’s “Zo-Shmo”.

- When we visited San Antonio just before Zoe’s first birthday, he was so happy to show off his grand-daughter. Zoe, he carried you on his shoulders at Fiesta and took you to your 1st parade. He made you laugh big belly laughs.

- When he came for Finn’s first Christmas, he sat up with Finn for at least two nights so Mommy and Daddy could get some sleep. For Grandpa, Finn fell asleep and stayed sleeping for most of the night. Grandpa was magic.

- He helped Grammy, Mommy, Daddy and Zoe make a gingerbread house. We have a video of it and I’m sure you will see it many times growing up. That was a good day. It felt good to be together for the holidays.

- He had mastered the diaper changes and bottle making and both of you were so happy and comfortable in his arms. I imagine you must have felt very safe and loved when you were with him.

- He made you both homemade fries and burgers (that you loved) and he always promised he’d make you more when he saw you next. He loved getting to talk to you on the computer and you both made him laugh and vice versa.

I wish I could tell you more stories. I wish I had taken more pictures of each of you with him. I wish I had pushed for us to make the trip to Texas more. I wish there had been more time and that you each would have your own special memories of your time with him.

Your Grandpa Rick called me “Babe” and he made it a point to give my shoulders a good squeeze when he saw me. He was the best father in law I ever could have hoped for and I felt so lucky to have him in my life. He really was like a father to me and I always looked forward to seeing him. He loved your dad so much and was so proud of him and I know that he was proud of me and loved me too. He was easy to talk to and supportive of our dreams. He encouraged us to do things, (like travel and work abroad) even if they scared us a little bit. I always felt safer knowing I was a part of Rick’s family.

As much as it breaks my heart that he’s not here with us now, that you won’t grow up with him in your lives... I feel like you both will be watched over by him. And Mommy and Daddy promise to make sure you grow up hearing stories about your Grandpa, about how much he loved you and how proud of you he was (and is).

I love you both infinitely,
Mama

My Mental Health Day

2010-09-24T14:07:00.000-07:00

This last week has been hard on me. We're coming up on a year since our car accident and I'm struggling with how much it is still a part of my life and my nightmares. I wrote a long piece reflecting all of that, but decided to only share it with my facebook friends. Honestly, I am embarrassed that I am still so affected and I didn't want to air too much of that here. But I am affected, and there was a lot of stress and panic attacks punctuated by a whole lot of tears and frustration this week. Sometimes, that wreck seems like it all just happened a month ago.

I've also been struggling with who I want to be, what I want my focus to be. Free time comes rarely with two young kids. I adore being their mama and they make my world a better place, but there are certainly those days where I feel like I need more. Like there is more I need to be striving for and accomplishing.

Tuesday night I told Daniel that I felt like I was having a breakdown. That if I didn't have some time to be myself, by myself that I felt like I was going to lose it. I hated that feeling. He said "OK" and he quickly figured out a way to make it work.

I slept in Wednesday. I took my time getting ready. I listened to David Gray loudly and drove where my car seemed to want to take me. I had no plan, but I ended up downtown and sitting in a local coffee house. I drank a soy latte and got back in the car. I ended up parking again and walking around a block and into an old antique store. I took some pictures along the way. I asked if it would be alright if I took some photos inside and was told to go right on ahead. With every image, I felt myself become lighter. My shoulders relaxed and I stopped feeling guilty for needing this time. I'm not sure how long I was in that first store, but when the time seemed right, I moved on.

My camera was out of it's case as I walked through the next store. Something about the environment or the merchandise made me less inclined to take any photos except of this dress:

I did so quietly and went on my way. An old man running the store asked me what I was up to and I told him I was just strolling through. He wanted to know what I was photographing. I told him I'd taken a picture of a dress that I thought might work as a costume, but other than that I was about to put my camera away. He seemed skeptical.

"So you've just been taking pictures of things on the street?"
"Pretty much."
"But why?"
"To feel like I'm doing something. For art. For me. Because I keep seeing things that I think are beautiful, or interesting."

His expression made me think he thought I was crazy, but it amused me. I really was just doing all of this because it made my heart feel good to do it.

I ended up getting in my car and driving again. I drove to the local museum and walked the grounds, taking my time, playing with angles and sunlight. Aside from a few people here and there, I was alone and I liked the solitude. I sang softly to myself. I thought about this last week and the toll it had taken on me. I sat on benches and listened to the sounds of the park. I imagined the history the buildings, trains and equipment. I felt sorry for them in a way, once so full of life - now away from their original homes collecting dust and spiders. I looked at the bright side: They educated. They allowed me the venue to see them all at once and focus on them through my lens. I promised myself I'd bring Daniel and the kids back and that I'd come alone again too.

From there I went to the Padre and sat in their bar for a sandwich. I played with my iPhone camera and discreetly got my big camera out a few times. I hope to bring Daniel back with me sometime soon. I keep thinking it would be fun to have a stay cation there, just the two of us.

Truth be told, I've been daydreaming about taking a trip alone with Daniel somewhere. I've also been thinking I'd love to go on a weekend getaway by myself. I keep having to tell myself that there is nothing to feel guilty about wanting either of those things. I keep telling myself that taking these little breaks will make me a happier person and a better partner/mother.

What I do know, is that I was so happy to come home to Daniel and the kids Wednesday night. I felt like I had things to share. Despite all the walking around, I felt more energetic than I have in a while. We ended the day watching a movie as a family. Daniel and I took the couch while the kids shared a blanket on the floor. All I could think about was how lucky I am.

And I didn't think about our accident once, all day.

See the entire set of photos I took HERE.

So, here's the thing

2010-09-10T11:22:00.000-07:00

Keeping up with blogging is hard work when you've got 2 kids (a PRESCHOOLER and a toddler, no less) running around. I know there are all sorts of Mommy Bloggers out there doing it and doing it well. I admire those women immensely because I have a hard time finding the time.

You know, with all my time playing those damn games on facebook.

Ahem.

Factor in that our accident just put me in a really bad place and it's taken me a while to want to sit down and write more than a few sentences at a time in a status update. For a long time, I was more comfortable with my "audience" being people I had actually met in my life along with a few blogger friends that I just admire and adore.

But I've missed some of the connections I'd made. I missed that feeling of accomplishment when I published a post and put it out there for whomever to see. I've missed keeping up with my blog roll and reading what you guys have to say because you all inspire me and make me laugh.

So I'm planning a comeback (AGAIN. I know.) I've updated my links (apparently quite a few of my favorite blogs are no longer blogging). I've been checking in and noticing that while I've been away, a lot has happened in everyone's lives.

I'm still trying to figure out a few things. What I want my life to be. What I want to focus my attention on (besides my family). What I want my online identity to be.

I was chatting with a long time blogger friend about an hour ago and as we were saying our goodbyes, I told her I needed to "go stare at my blog and curse." That's pretty much what I was doing before I decided to write this post. Lots of staring and cursing (quietly because oh my goodness, Zoe is a word sponge/human parrot) trying to figure out what I want to do with this space. I have a domain name I purchased a while ago. I have some ideas. I have no idea how to execute... which is sort of amusing and irritating considering I've been blogging on and off for seven years.

And now, back to staring and curing and trying to encourage Zoe that she doesn't actually have to hurt her brother to play "nurse". *SIGH*

Where Did The BABY Go?

2010-09-08T14:21:00.001-07:00

It's a little bit surreal taking your first born to her first day of preschool. Where she will be away for six hours, learning and growing with people and children who are (not yet, at least) friends or family. Watching her walk to her classroom and then through the gate and then the door, it was like I was literally watching her grow up before my eyes. For an instant, I flashed forward to the first day of kindergarten, high school graduation, college graduation, wedding day, the day she tells me I'll be a grandmother (EEK!). And the next thing I knew, she was telling me she'd see me later and that she loved me. "Bye bye, Mommy."

When we walked into the preschool director's office, my eyes welled up.

Zoe is not a baby anymore! She's not even a toddler. How did that happen so fast?

We've been promising Zoe preschool since we started potty training her. She's never been intimidated by the idea of leaving us and going to school. She was so determined, that potty training ended up taking much less time than we thought it would. Turns out, we weren't quite ready to follow through with our promise right away (neither financially or emotionally) and so we let some time pass.

She asked to go to school if not every day, then at least every other day. We kept telling her "Soon. Soon you'll go!" and every time she would do what I've begun to call the Flashdance dance and squeal with excitement. "I can't wait to go to preschool!"

A new preschool just opened up less than five minutes from our house, and I took it as a sign that it was finally time (because, you know, her asking every other day wasn't enough of a SIGN) and we went to check it out. Last Friday I picked up the registration paperwork. Last weekend we found her a special "Big Girl Starting School" outfit. She picked out a backpack and a lunchbox. Yesterday was her first day.

It felt like I would never fall asleep Monday night. I had 1st day of school jitters. I dragged myself out of bed at 6am. I was nauseated just thinking about her going to school even if I did know she was going to love it, it was going to be great for her, yada yada yada. I might have teared up a little, but I pushed it aside so Daniel and I could make her lunch together. I included a little note.

And then we woke her up, got her dressed and brought her out to eat her breakfast. She was all giggles and squirms and exclamations.

We took two cars. I drove the kids in the van and Daniel took the truck so he could leave straight from there for work. We loaded Finn in his stroller and snapped a few pictures.

Finn definitely knew something big was happening and he was excited for his big sister.

I snapped a bunch of pictures of her walking.

Of Daniel opening the gate.

And of her in her classroom

Finn was upset at first that we were leaving her behind, but he got over that soon enough and enjoyed his day. I think he loved the one on one attention he got with Cheryl and then me. Yesterday alone, he said 3 new sentences clearly and his vocabulary has grown just in the last 24 hours (Amazing, I tell you!)

When I went to pick up Zoe at 1, she did not notice me for almost 5 minutes because she was so engaged. When she did see me, she jumped up and gave me a hug and refused to leave. She was proud to show me her art she'd made, she couldn't wait to come back Thursday. She was quick to tell me someone had pushed her in the tummy and she had to tell them "Please don't push my tummy. That makes me sad." and that her favorite part was "the babies". I drove her over to Cheryl's to trade kids and I'm told she slept the entire 3 hours she was there - and then she was in bed at eight.

I think preschool is going to be good for all of us. I'm so proud of my girl.

Beautiful Girl

2010-09-02T14:49:00.000-07:00

This morning (once I realized Zoe was being more quiet than usual) I found my daughter in my bathroom. One of my lipsticks was in her left hand, fully extended and ready to apply all over her face, no doubt. The rest of my makeup lay scattered on the floor haphazardly. Pieces of my jewelry were strewn about her person: bracelets on her arms, multiple necklaces draped over her neck and a few over her princess crown and kitty ears that she’d decided on wearing earlier. In her right hand was a large clump of more jewelry... I’m not sure exactly what she had planned for it. She looked like she was either a pirate, a burglar, or perhaps an over accessorized beauty queen. When our eyes met, there was a moment of hesitation before we acted. I simultaneously wanted to grab my camera and scold her for the mess. She wanted to run with her loot while explaining why she had to have all this stuff. Zoe was faster than me.

As she raced passed me and through the door into my bedroom, she yelled out “I just wanted to be beautiful, my mommy!”

And that was where I was frozen in my tracks. This was the second time in as many days that she had said this to either me or Daniel. I answered the same way Daniel had yesterday:

“You were beautiful the day you were born.” and then I added “I know that you’re having fun playing with mama’s stuff, but do you know that you do not need the make up and jewelry to be beautiful?”

She stared at me and then quickly gripped the jewelry to her chest.

“No. I NEED it. I need it to be beautiful.”

“You are beautiful! And you are smart and funny and talented. And you know what else?”

“Nooooo.”

“You have such a kind heart and make people so happy, THAT is what makes you beautiful. You shine from the inside out.”

“Like the sun?”

“Yes. Almost exactly like that.”

She smiled at me and looked down before looking back up to tell me that I was beautiful too, but could she please just wear my jewelry now? And also... she needed her sunglasses right away “because the sun is bright!”

As we picked up my things off the floor and put the jewelry away, I wondered to myself what more I could be doing. Should I not put makeup on around her? Have I made her think that I only feel beautiful with makeup and jewelry? Maybe I’m just over thinking all of this.

I realize that when she was going through my stuff she was not specifically thinking she needed it all to “be beautiful”. I know that what she wanted was to play with my stuff and be like her mommy and that when she was caught red handed she was searching for a “because” that would excuse the mess she’d created. I know that she might be learning that the beautiful button gets a reaction from Daniel and I. We just want so much for her to know that there are more important things, and that her beauty is all encompassing.

I want to spare her all the insecurities I ever felt/feel about my own appearance.

No Cookie For Me

2010-07-13T14:12:00.000-07:00

The cookie pictured is old, but I still considered eating it. Because it's a cookie. I love cookies!

What I did instead was look in my fridge and pantry. I decided I was going to choose at least one vegetable and make it yummy without adding too much. I chose mushrooms and sauteed them up. I scrambled up an egg. I mixed them together, added a little bit of cheese and some salsa and added it all to a whole grain tortilla. It was delicious and it took me five minutes.

Take THAT, fast food.

And then there was the cookie.

I decided instead of eating that damn cookie, (because I was full... and it's a cookie. I've broken up with cookies.) that I was going to play with it a bit. I know, I know: Don't play with your food! And I know, "Throw it all awayyyyyyy. bad bad" ;) But it was a little bit therapeutic to take that cookie and do something creative with it. It made me laugh. And I need to keep a sense of humor about all this. And I sort of like testing myself - especially when it results in me making the better, healthier choice.

So the cookie and it's mate are gone. Thrown away, never consumed but enjoyed all the same.

No cookie for me. And that's a GREAT thing.

Empty House

2010-07-12T10:28:00.000-07:00

Thursday afternoon I told my mom we wouldn't be coming for the visit I had just suggested a couple days prior. It was the killer cramps I'd been having, plus the run down feeling and Daniel having been gone on a work trip for 24 hours and counting. Or maybe it was my recent decision to eat better paired with this overwhelming desire to just relax and focus on me for a bit. Regardless, the idea of sitting in a car for an extended period of time and then trying to make health food choices while traveling no longer appealed to my mind or body. I was tired. I needed to relax. I wanted to enjoy our house, just the 6 of us (I'm including the dog children) for a few precious days after having house guests for the last two weeks.

And then Saturday around noon, my two kids jumped on my bed for ten minutes straight, screaming at the top of their well developed and OMG! healthy lungs, with no abandon. When they saw my face contorting with frustration and ugh, pain - they giggled. "This is fun!" Zoe squealed in delight. I looked over at Daniel who was doing the best he could to just sit and read a book while all this was going on and I asked him how he'd feel about the kids visiting my parents for a few days.

I think he was a little shocked and excited and sad, all at once - but he nodded yes, so I hurriedly called my mom before I lost my nerve.

The was some deliberating and some negotiations and then trying to figure out the logistics of it all, but we worked it out. I quickly called our friends to cancel our plans 30 minutes before we had planned on meeting and then asked if they'd be willing to watch the dogs last minute. I ran around the house packing up the kids for an adventure at Nana and Baba's house and shoved a few things in a backpack for a quick overnight stay for me and Daniel - just to get everyone settled.

We got back to Bakersfield yesterday afternoon - 24 hours after we left. We listened to a book on tape on the ride home and stopped for vegetarian sandwiches at Whole Foods. We saw a movie and ate some healthier Mexican food. I had a margarita. We went home and relaxed in our quiet living room. I had some wine and snacked on berries for dessert. It was delightful. The best part is, we have two more nights of this. My parents bring the kids back to us Wednesday afternoon.

Don't get me wrong, I miss the kids - very much so. The house feels too quiet and I'm honestly a little lost without them here with me right now.... but, and there is a HUGE but: I needed this. If not just to catch up on our date night deficit, then to focus on me a little bit.

These few days are an excellent opportunity for me to focus on the changes we're making as far as food choices too. We've committed to cutting red meat and pork from our diet and we'll be limiting poultry as well. After talking to a few friends, I'm no longer specifically counting every single calorie and every ounce of water - I'm just aware. I'm looking at the ingredients in foods and eating less in general. But I'm eating a ton of fruit and veggies. I keep my water with me and drink as needed. I know I'm filling it up repeatedly during the day and that's all that matters. I haven't looked at a scale, but I do know I feel lighter, if that makes any sense. I've been told by some friends that I can still eat meat - that I can still have my ice cream in moderation. Sure. They're right. But I don't want to. I know what works for me. From my experience of quitting smoking 7 years ago, cold turkey - I know that it doesn't work for me to just taper down. I need to replace that need with something else. I replaced cigarettes with food and now.... now I'm replacing some of the foods that were my weakness with foods that are healthy*. The thing is, searching out foods that are better for me and my family is fun. I'm loving getting to talk to people about it and looking at healthy cookbooks. I've told Daniel repeatedly that he doesn't have to give up meat and pork like I am. I've told him he is free to eat whatever he wants when we go to restaurants and/or he's at work and that I will be fine as long as he encourages me to stick with this. He's told me repeatedly that he wants to do this with me as much as he can and that means the world to me - to have him be my partner in this.

I feel very lucky.

*- Felt a little hungry as I was writing this. Grabbed a banana instead of the crazy pink frosting sugar cookies that are in eyesight. They're from last week and probably are way stale now, but there was a time when that would not have mattered and I would have eaten them anyway.

Big Changes

2010-07-06T13:30:00.000-07:00

So, I’m not sure if any one ever reads these posts anymore... but hello. It’s been a while. I’d recap what I’ve been up to, but I’ve decided to just leave that up to mystery. Ha.

What I will tell you is that sometime yesterday I made the commitment to myself (and out loud to my husband) that it’s time for me to get back on track with healthy eating and trying to be a healthier person overall. I’ve been down this road before - I had some successes and then maybe because I had those successes, I was able to get pregnant with my son without any extra help (fertility drugs). Because of gestational diabetes, I was able to maintain my weight through strict management of my carb intake. I felt better about myself.

And then we had our car accident and my way of dealing with the stress was to eat. I ate entirely too much. When I was sad or upset, I turned to unhealthy foods. I started a ritual of eating ice cream nightly. Every. Single. Night. A huge bowl. And sometimes I’d have seconds. It was gluttonous and crazy and irresponsible. But it was comforting. I know it sounds crazy, but that ice cream was my salvation. I would sit there with my bowl (or bowls) after the kids had gone to bed and disappear. I didn’t think about my stressful day or medical bills - I just focused on the chocolate chip ice cream and I was content.

I’ve gained 15 pounds since September 27th and when I look at myself, I hate what I see. When I think about the example I’m setting for my kids, I want to cry. And I know that my weight has had a impact on my health and has definitely played a part in my continued pain from the car accident.

Last January, I had my chiropractor suggest that I have a gastric bypass. It hurt my heart to sit there and have him tell me that I would never be able to lose the weight I needed to, on my own. He told me I was going to waste my youth - that he would “bet” that I was “pretty hot under all that weight.” And in those moments in his office, I suddenly felt the ugliest I had ever felt in my life. I told Daniel about it right away and he is 100% supportive of whatever I want to do. We made an appointment with a surgeon to discuss my options, but the consultation was postponed because the doc was backed up and we never went back. The idea of having surgery scared me and I was concerned about not being able to get pregnant for at least 2 years after the procedure. That would mean if we decided we wanted a third child, we’d have to wait and then I’d have to be very careful with my eating and undoubtedly gain some weight back. So we sat on it.

And I ate more ice cream.

Which brings me back to last night.

As I was sipping on a glass of wine and nibbling on a piece of feta and an olive, I told Daniel that I could eat this and be happy. And then it was like a slap in the face: I could and SHOULD be eating better.
“I want to make some changes and eat healthier.”
“OK. It would mean giving up your ice cream.”
“Right.”

And then there was this silence as I considered that and processed what Daniel had said - what he had obviously said because he’d been thinking it for a while. I felt like I was sitting in the Chiropractor’s office again. “I bet you’re pretty hot under all that weight.” I felt my face burn with shame.

“You must hate the way I look.”
“No. I love the way you look. I love you. No matter what.”

There were more sweet things said... but I’ll leave those between us. The point is, I was transported back to my home and pushed the Chiropractor’s words out of my head for a bit.

After dinner, we ran to the store to get some healthy snacks and a water bottle to track water intake.

Later, as Daniel slept next to me, I signed up for an iPhone app that gives me a calorie budget to help me get to my desired weight. It can track carb and fiber intake. It alerts me when I need to snack and it tracks calories burned based on the exercise and amount of time spent exercising.

I haven’t given up on the idea of a gastric bypass or lap band. Daniel and I decided not that long ago that we won’t be planning on any more kids - so my one concern is... no longer a concern. I do want to see what kind of progress I can make on my own though. Just admitting to myself and putting out here for anyone to see is a huge step.

So, I guess this also means I’m back. Back to blogging, I mean. I’ve missed this outlet, certainly... but I also know that if I do not put myself out there and share what my goals are, I will back away slowly and go buy a gallon of ice cream. Help me not do that, OK?

Finnegan

2010-04-15T21:05:00.000-07:00

Finn. Finnie. Little Man. Baby. Baby Boy. Baby Brother. Brother. Big Boy. Monkey. Wiggle Worm. Snuggle Bug. Mr. Serious. Mr. Destructo. Demolition Baby. Handsome. Stunt Boy. Flirty Finn.

At this point, Finn's vocabulary is limited. He says "Mama, Daddy, Baba, Banana, Up, No. Yes. Uh-oh. Baby." And a whole lot of gibberish that we don't really understand yet. Sometimes I swear he's repeating everything he hears and someday it's going to just come out crystal clear.

He's often mistaken for being shy. I think by comparison to Zoe, that is understandable. He will not run up to strangers and introduce himself like she does. Instead, he will stare intently until he is noticed and then bat his eyelashes. He will hide his face and then look back at you quickly to make sure you're watching him. He's got a smile that will charm just about anyone. His eyelashes are ridiculously long and thick.

I don't think I ever realized how active a one year old could be until I had Finnegan. He went from sitting up to crawling to walking to running so fast, we never knew what hit us. I've called Zoe my monkey since she was in my belly... but Finn? Finn is truly a monkey - climbing all over us, his sister, the dogs, the fireplace, the sofas. If we don't know where he is, good places to check are on top of our dining, kitchen and end tables. I've caught him trying to scale bookcases. Finn is fearless. He does not hesitate to slide down a four foot high slide. He stands on top of his cars and tries to use them as skateboards. Every day he gets a new bruise and every day I consider buying him protective gear. When he gets hurt and cries, I am sure he does so out of frustration. He is a dare devil.

Despite all the dolls and dress up clothes around here, Finn is all about being active. He loves playing with his soccer ball and his trucks. I imagine he will be the athlete... or maybe he'll be in a band? He loves all instruments, the louder, the better. He loves pushing around the toy vacuum cleaner... I'm looking forward to taking advantage of that someday. Finn is more interested in playing with Bailey and Max than Zoe ever has been. If he's not standing on a table, he's kicking back with the dogs in their bed, chasing them around the house, or trying to play tug of war with them.

Finn is strong. My tough guy. He likes to play wrestle with his sister and often wins. He can lift things his own size and bigger. He will push chairs, trash cans, full laundry baskets around the kitchen. If something does not budge, he will yell at it as if that will help. Even though he is younger and smaller, he sticks up for his sister - he has hit and yelled at two kids when they bullied Zoe.

Zoe likes to introduce Finn to everyone we meet and even people who wouldn't even notice us if it weren't for her yelling out "Here's my Finnegan brother!" which sounds an awful lot like "Here's my stinkin' brother!" and always leaves people a little perplexed. I always repeat what she says and she and Finn just look at me like I'm crazy for repeating what's already been said. Zoe also likes to tell strangers that Finn does not listen to his mother and that he is shy. She likes to call him her "little bug" and "little rascal" and he seems to love everything she says and does.

I'm glad we had them so close together because I am sure that is why they are such great friends. It is not uncommon for them to be walking around the house holding hands. They hug and kiss and cuddle on the couch together. It is their favorite thing to get to go in and wake each other either in the morning or from a nap. Recently, when he was getting tired and ready for his morning nap, he stumbled over to his sister and gently put his head on her lap while she rubbed his back. At night when they're both getting tired, they like to pile on top of me... I think they enjoy those quiet moments sharing me. I do not doubt that they will grow up to be partners in crime, already they've mastered a "divide and conquer" technique at the park that succeeds in wearing me out beyond words but seems to entertain them endlessly.

Sometimes, I forget to write about Finnegan. Not because I love him any less, but because his sister is so much more vocal than he is right now. But my boy? He adds to the love and the laughter in this house, more than I thought was possible. He is full of energy and curiosity and possibility and I can't wait to see who he becomes. I'm already so proud of who he is.

A Day Without Kids

2010-04-13T17:17:00.000-07:00

I've been sans kids all day because I'm dealing with a stomach bug. I've got to say, if I didn't feel so horrible, it would be pretty great.

And I feel a little bit bad for typing that. Except, I don't... not really, really bad anyway.

I think I put unrealistic expectations on myself.

Since having Finnegan, I have only been alone for a hand full of days. Since having him, I rarely get breaks. I am rarely not attached to one or both kids. And this might be too much information, but it is a rare treat if I get to go to the bathroom by myself.

Before you say, that's what being a mom is... I know. I know, and I love it. But everyone has their breaking point. Everyone needs to take a day here and there to relax. Hell, not necessarily an entire day - I'd take a couple hours a week! Being a stay at home mom, despite what some people may think - is physically and emotionally exhausting. While I love what I get to do and I am eternally grateful that I am able to stay home with my children, some days all I can think is "I need a day off!" and sometimes it's all I can do to get through the day without bursting into tears.

Because that feeling makes me feel like I must be the worst mother in all the world. Who would not want to get to be with these kids all day, every day?! They are sweet and funny and such amazing little beings. Every single day they do something that makes me think this is so worth it. I get to watch them become who they are going to be. And I can't help but think I must be an asshole for wanting to get to go out with my camera or sit and read a book or write because look who I get to spend my time with! Not everyone gets to do this.

And so I feel shame. Like I must not being doing this right. Because if it's hard, then I must not be a natural, right? Except I know that's crap.

Last night I was curled up on the couch feeling miserable. Zoe walked up to me:

Are you OK, Mommy?
I'll be OK, honey. My tummy just hurts.
Aw. Can I read to you?
Yes, please.

She goes to get her Princess and the Frog book.

Can I sit with you?
Yes, I would love that.

So she "reads" the story. The last page shows Tiana and Prince Naveen after they've gotten married. They're about to walk underneath all the swords:

What are they doing here, mommy?
They just got married.
Married.
Like mommy and daddy.
I need to get married!
Well, someday. If you want to. When you fall in love with the right one.
Well I love you, Mommy.
I love you, baby.

Sometimes I need that reminder, you know? That even when I'm feeling physically ill and feel like I'm just not good at this, I have these two babies who wouldn't have any other mommy than me.

I guess that's why I'm writing this. Because being a mom isn't all about the funny, sweet moments. Even if it is a lot of that - it's also the headaches and kids running around like wild things. It's about wanting to pull your hair out some days. It's about knowing your limits and dealing with what you have. It's about time management and taking advantage of bedtime. At the end of the day, all you can do is be the best you can.

Daniel just got home with the kids. I just realized how much I missed them today....

Bella the Great

2010-04-08T16:21:00.000-07:00

A few months ago I saw some posts on facebook from multiple friends about a couple trying to save their home from foreclosure by starting their own publishing company and children's series based on their now four year old daughter, Bella. I was touched by their story and their creativity in finding a way to supplement their income. I was drawn to the concept of Bella the Great - an imaginative and adventurous little girl, (much like my own) and her sidekick Iago, a stuffed bunny. As I navigated their website and saw the lovely illustrations created by Jonathan Ashley, I got excited about getting to not only share Bella the Great with Zoe and Finnegan, but with my friends and family as well. I had to resist the urge to purchase the coloring books and t-shirts I wanted because we're on a tight budget ourselves these days, but I quickly pre-ordered the first book:

Bella Goes Bump in the Night
Moments later, I was messaging Derek and telling him how inspired I was by his story. We quickly became facebook friends, exchanged messages and later connected with each other's spouses. I shared my interest in pursuing my photography and writing and he and his wife became my cheerleaders and gifted me with the services of a designer to build a merchant site for my photography. Since then, I have gotten to know them more through messages, posts and photos and I am so grateful to have connected with two people who are filled with so much "Love and Light". I do not doubt that I am a more optimistic person by having them in my life. It is amazing to me that despite Derek and I growing up in the same town, going to the same high school and sharing many friends past and present, we didn't know each other at all before all of this - I'm just happy I get to be friends with him and Gina now.

When I first read about Derek and Gina, Daniel and I were just starting the process of buying our first home. When we signed our loan documents and committed to 30 years of payments, I couldn't help but think of our friends and what they are going through. Now that we are homeowners, (as of April Fools, ha) I am even more sympathetic and invested in helping them get their story out there. I have so many dreams for our home, I can only imagine what a nightmare it would be to be faced with losing it. Not a day goes by without me thinking of my new friends and hoping people are as touched by their story as I am.

So, here's the deal: Derek and Gina have a Bella the Great website. It tells their story and has an online store for you to pre-order from the Bella line. Please, check it out. They're on Facebook - become a fan and help me spread the word! Help my friends and get a beautiful book, coloring book, poster, or t-shirt (or hey, the entire line!) in the process - everyone wins...

The Waiting Game

2010-03-29T13:59:00.000-07:00

If all goes well, we should get news that we are "officially" homeowners either today or tomorrow. Even though the paperwork has been signed, the homeowners insurance policy written and purchased, and the check handed over to the title company, I'm not letting myself celebrate until I get someone in charge to tell me it's official. I'm waiting anxiously for that phone call.

Maybe I'm showing what a pessimist I actually am. Ha.

But on the positive side, I'm excited. I told Daniel the other night that there was no one else in this world that I'd rather go (further) into debt with than him. And that is true. So true, that I find myself walking around the house spending money we don't have. You see, we're buying the house we've been renting for almost three years. While we could have painted or made whatever changes we wanted to if we'd discussed them with our friends, (the current homeowners) I just didn't want to until it was really ours.

I'm thinking I want to paint. I want new carpeting and maybe wood floors in the front of the house. I want to build some custom bookshelves in the master bedroom. I want a new refrigerator... and more energy efficient washer and dryer. I want shelving in the garage and fancy closet organizers in the kids rooms. I want a swing set, or a fort, or something in the backyard. I want to get more shade for our covered patio and maybe plant a tree to commemorate becoming homeowners.

And I want all the funds to make that happen.

But in the meantime, a girl can dream... and try to talk Zoe out of a pink room.

Safety First

2010-03-09T22:07:00.000-08:00

Since our wreck in September, it is absolutely impossible for me to not think about what happened at least once a day. I know that might sound excessive and it doesn't exactly sound like I've moved on... but it's true and I mostly have. Mostly.

I still get headaches. I still have flashbacks. I still hear the sounds associated with the accident, all of them. I still feel nauseated when I see an accident on a television show or movie. It's hard for me to talk about what happened without getting emotional, and I never know if I'm going to get angry or cry about it, or both.

Last Friday we had to take Zoe for a CT of her head. We've known since November that we needed to do it, but the doc said we'd could hold off for a bit because we knew it was going to be traumatic for all of us. And then it was like we were sick for 3 months straight because, all four us... we pretty much were sick November til oh, right now. So anyway, we'd been told they would use conscious sedation before they gave her the IV for the contrast, but when we got there they said that they only gave the sedation thru the IV. I'm not going to write about what it was like to have to see Zoe go thru that because I don't want to remember it, but what I will say is that all I could think while we were there was that we wouldn't be going thru this if that man had been paying attention and had stopped for the red light. I was angry all over again.

But I'm trying to find the positive where I can and believe it or not, I am able to.

Zoe has learned from our experience that bad things happen but that there are great people out there who will be there to help us. She points out police officers, ambulances and fire trucks and tells us they are on their way to help people. She also points out when other drivers are not being safe and need to slow down. We talk about "being safe" every time we drive and I plan to keep that up. I hope that she will always respect the men and women out there protecting us and keeping us safe. I hope that she will never forget how important it is to be a responsible driver.

I've become more aware of my surroundings and an even more defensive driver than I used to be. I've also become passionate about telling our little story to whomever asks because I hope it will spill into their consciousness when they consider taking a phone call or text, speeding, drunk driving, or running a red light. More than anything though, I've become a little bit obsessed with keeping my family safe and educating others about car seat safety. There's a certification that I'd like to get someday, when the wreck is not so fresh with me... but in the meantime, I do what I can to educate myself online.

This evening we ordered a new car seat for Finnegan. He's outgrown his Peg Perego infant seat, so we're upgrading to one just like Zoe's: the Britax Advocate CS. We were kind of excited about him getting to be front facing now that he's over a year old and over 20 pounds, but I'd remembered reading somewhere that it was best to keep your child rear facing for as long as the convertible seat will allow. In our case, this means Finn could be rear facing until he's 35 pounds providing he doesn't sprout even taller than the limitations.

As Daniel and I were discussing this, I couldn't help but try to remember what Zoe had weighed on September 27th. Was she under 35 pounds? Should she have been rear facing? Would being rear facing have saved her from getting glass in her forehead? Would we have been worse off if she'd been rear facing? I had to remind myself what everyone has told us repeatedly: Her car seat and that we were using it correctly is what saved her from more serious injury or worse. We did everything we knew to do. We turned her front facing because we had read that we could after 1 year/20 pounds. There's no point second guessing now, especially since our outcome was so favorable.

I look forward to the day where I stop second guessing what happened. I'm tired of imagining all the horrible things that could have been, but I'm determined to do everything I can to help ensure my family's safety... and get people to become as passionate about car seat and drivers safety as I have.

Sugar & Spice

2010-02-18T12:28:00.000-08:00

So, last night after I'd finished reading some bedtime stories to Zoe and while I was singing her some of her favorite "nigh-nigh" songs, we heard Finn crying. The crying a mama hears and knows that her baby is hurt*... but I didn't rush in because I knew he was with his Daddy and was being taken care of.

Zoe had been nearly asleep. She was at that stage where she was petting my hand as I sang and sort of fighting the inevitable like she's done since she was an infant. She would open her eyes and stare at me when I'd stop singing and then when I'd start again, her eyes would sort of move side to side like a Cylon and then roll back a bit before they closed. Yes. THAT tired. No, it's not creepy, it's endearing.

Anyway. Finn's tears startled us both a bit, but I had her needs to think about too so I tried to soothe her. Zoe wasn't having it though. She sat up straight and looked at me:

"Finnegan's crying, Mommy!"
"I know. But Daddy has him. He'll be OK."
"No. He's CRYING. He needs you. Go to him, Mommy!" - nudging me to get out of her bed.
"Will you be OK?"
"Yes. Go to him. I, OK."
"You're such a good big sister. Nigh-nigh, baby."
"Nigh-nigh, Mama."

She's such a sweetheart.

This morning when Finn was playing with a toy that Zoe didn't want him to have, she put her hands on either side of his head and pulled him backwards. BY HIS HEAD! When we asked her why she did that it was: " Because I want it."

Sometimes it's not easy being the big sister. Sometimes it's not easy being the little brother either. I'm bracing myself for the day when Finn can fight back - and holding on to the memories of how sweet they can be together. It will get me through the next 15 or so years, right?

*- He'd been climbing and hit his face on our end table. There was a red mark on his face, but I think his ego was bruised more than anything. I took him from Daniel to calm him and he fell asleep within minutes. He's fine now.

Goodbye, Buffy (the Family Dog, not the Vampire Slayer)

2010-02-16T15:27:00.000-08:00

Buffy was my parents dog. They got her as a puppy around the time I moved out of my parents house the first time. We joked that them getting a sweet little puppy was their attempt at getting me to not move out but I don't think that was really the case... even if it is a shame that didn't work. Ha. Not really, truth is those choices are what shaped me into who I am now as a person: a wife, mother, friend, etc.

But that's not what this is about. This is about Buffy.

Buffy was the 2nd Buffy my parents have had. The first passed away when I was a baby, I think.

Buffy the 2nd seemed to always have a smile on her face. She had big brown eyes that could melt your heart. She was a big girl and we joked affectionately that she was part dog, part cow. Despite her large size, Buffy thought she was a lap dog. Shaking hands soon turned into her throwing both arms around you. Buffy never met a pair of black pants she didn't cover with her long hair and she never met a treat she didn't devour in 5 seconds. When Buffy was really happy she would sort of hop - back paws would stay on the ground, her booty and tail would shake and her front paws would skip up and down. Buffy liked to get as close to her loved ones as possible and she loved giving kisses.

When I moved back into my parents house in 2002, she and I shared the living room floor. She would throw herself down on the ground next to my sleeping bag and arch her head back to "kiss" my nose. I spent quite a few nights curled up next to her sleeping and quite a few morning with her trying to climb IN my sleeping bag WITH me. We used to joke that Buffy was like my kid sister. She loved me and I loved her.

Buffy also loved our Nana. And even if she sometimes drove Nana crazy, Nana loved her so much. Buffy liked to stay close to Nana especially when Nana got sick and I know that she felt a true sadness when Nana left us. She was as much Nana's girl as she was my parents.

Buffy didn't like my ex husband, I don't think. She stayed clear of him whenever possible - but she adored Daniel. She liked to sit close to him and looked up at him with so much love. She used to run to me when I walked in the door, but that honor went to Daniel too.

Buffy was intrigued by Zoe as an infant, but Zoe was a little bit intimidated by her. I imagine she looked like a giant. As Zoe grew older she still stayed a little apprehensive, but she always said hello to her and would ask about her and include her in her nightly song about all the people she loves.

Buffy tolerated Bailey and Max. Bailey was pretty much indifferent - if you're not going to play, she has little use for you. But Max, I'm pretty sure Max was in love with Buffy from the moment he met her.

My parents had Buffy for 15 years. They got her when our dog Ramsey was getting older and needed a young pup to add a spring to his step. And today... they're going to put her to sleep. She's lost her spring in her step. Her hip creaks and she does not do that hopping thing anymore. She has trouble standing and trouble sitting and trouble laying down. And even though I still see that little puppy when I look in her eyes, she is old and tired and not enjoying her life like she used to.

So, I'm sad. I'm sad for my parents and for me. I'm sad because she was another link to Nana that is leaving us. I'm sad because the last time she was here I did not cuddle with her and give her attention because I was so sick. I'm sad that I'm going to have to explain to Zoe that Buffy isn't going to come visit us anymore and we don't get to visit her - but that she'll be watching over us with my Nana from now on.

A letter to a friend:

2010-02-03T18:36:00.000-08:00

One of my oldest and dearest friends is due this Monday with her 1st child, Oliver. She and I have had a lot of conversations about the crazy/rude things people say to expectant parents and about parenthood and I wanted to write her a note for her to be able look back on. I remember how anxious I was in the days before Zoe (and even with my 2nd, Finn) and I wanted to send her something to help put her at ease and put a positive spin on this motherhood "thing". Being a mom isn't easy, but I truly think focusing on the joys and gifts of motherhood is the way to go instead of trying to scare people who have already decided to be parents.*

Here's the letter:

2-3-2010

Dearest Ashley,

I've been thinking a lot about you and Justin lately. I've been thinking about this great adventure you both have been having these last nine months and how very, very soon your adventure and your family will expand. Today you are just five days from your due date and since your son could be joining us any day now, I wanted to take a few minutes to tell you a few things.

When people see an expecting couple, they like to give their two cents... as you know. They like to tell you "Just you wait!" and "Your life will never be the same again!" Sometimes people just laugh like the joke is on you: "You'll see!" In a way, this is natural... we want to relate to each other, we want to commiserate and share our life experiences. I think that people don't always hear themselves as these words are coming out and they don't realize how negative they sound.

After 2 kids and almost 3 short years of motherhood, here's my take on it:

Just you wait.... until you see your son for the first time. When you get to kiss his forehead and feel his skin against yours. Just you wait until you hear his first cry, his first coo, his first hiccup. Just you wait until you hold him in your arms and you are overcome with joy and emotion at this embodied miracle. Just you wait until he looks you in the eyes and you him. Just you wait until you get to share him with the world and feel this extreme sense of pride. Just you wait until you get to see your husband be a father, your parents be grandparents.

Your life never WILL be the same again. It will be even busier. As much as you and Justin love, adore, and respect each other now... that will grow exponentially as the two of you learn to parent this little man you are bringing into the world. Every time I look at my husband holding our children or playing with them, I fall in love with him even more - and there was a time when I didn't think it was possible to love him more than I did.

As a mom, you will face things you never imagined and even the things you imagined won't be exactly what you thought they would be. You will experience love unlike any love you have ever felt in your life. You will become fiercely protective. You will be more empathetic. You will relate to other women, other mom's, your mother more than you ever have before. You will laugh when your son laughs and sometimes you will cry when he cries. Even more now than ever, you will be inspired to do more great things and make a difference in the world. I'm especially excited about all this because I think you are such an amazing woman and I know that you will just thrive in your newest role .

You'll see... that you will become an even stronger person. You will learn to manage your time like a pro. You'll see that as nice as sleep is, that there is nothing that compares to holding your child and getting to know their personality and being there for them when they need you. You'll see that it will all go by so quickly... it will seem like the first year goes by much faster than these last nine months have gone.

Now, I'm not saying that you won't face stressful days. You and I both know that I have cried and not known how I was going to get through the day or do all the things I wanted or needed to. But those are fleeting moments in the grand scheme of things. When you face those stressful moments, remember the joyous ones and look to the moments you will get to experience as a mom: his first words, crawling, walking, watching him with Louie, seeing who he resembles physically and personality wise. Those things more than make up for the crying and the multiple feedings and the crazy diapers.

I am so excited for you and Justin. I think that you two are amazing people and together, an awesome team. I know that your son is so very lucky to have you two as parents and I am so looking forward to seeing you be a mother and getting to know the person Oliver will become.

I love you, sister. If you ever need me - I'm always here.

Keely

* - Not to say that I don't think it's OK to warn my daughter about how hard it is to be a mom so she doesn't end up being a mom before she has experienced life and is emotionally and physically ready.

Health Update

2010-01-29T20:39:00.000-08:00

We found out this morning that Finnegan has pneumonia.

An hour later, Daniel was at the doc. He has bronchitis.

Less than an hour later I was on the phone with the pediatrician requesting Zoe get a chest xray too. Call it mothers intuition or just common sense, but it seemed like Z had more than a common cold.

An hour later I was at the Pulmonologist.

THREE hours, 2 breathing tests, and 2 chest xrays later, we know that my pneumonia is improving but likely to turn into bronchitis. The bad news is my lungs are at 50% capacity. The good news is... that's better than 0. The doc is trying to figure out why this is happening to me. Pneumonia should only affect me by 15%... 50 is bad. The other news is that he wants to check me for Valley Fever again next week. He says despite last weeks results, it's just too early to know I don't have it. He also says he'd rather I have VF because he knows how to treat that. Look at me! I'm so *mysterious*.

As soon as we finished there, we took Z for her chest xray. She doesn't have pneumonia, but she does have bronchitis.

So 2 and 2... and we're all on antibiotics. Party at my house! Ahem. NOT!

The best part of my day (because I'm looking for some more positives): I ran into someone I hired when I worked at Pier One. She had no retail experience when I met her and the other managers didn't want to hire her... but I pushed for it because she was a single mom of 2 and needed a job - and I knew I could train her. She worked there for 5 years. She became a manager. She put herself thru school. She was the tech who took Zoe's xray. I was so happy to see her and feel like I had a small part in helping her get to that point.

Silver lining. :)

Closed

2010-01-26T14:18:00.000-08:00

Just heard the news that an old favorite restaurant has closed it's doors.....

Daniel and I had our 1st kiss in the Woody's parking lot. We went there after our 1st rehearsal for Commedia del Arte. Surrounded by new theatre friends and trying to figure out how we were going to get to know each other, we both "coincidentally" left at the same time. I guess you could say the rest is history.

In the seven years we've been together, Woody's was a mainstay. It was where we went after rehearsals, auditions and shows. It was where we hung out with new friends and brought our out of town friends and family. It was where Daniel and I pretended to be "just friends" but held hands under the table... and years later brought our 1st baby and then our second.

"Zoe, this used to be your mommy and daddy's favorite place."

We had our favorite servers: Brad & Cathy... the two of them used to fight over who would get our table. We even invited them to our engagement party. But they're long gone now. Last we saw Cathy, it was at the Riverwalk park - she was married and has a toddler. Brad became a manager and then... not sure. There was a sweet guy with dark hair that used to be their bus boy, who we loved...

We had our favorite menu items: Corona, Strawberry Lemonade, Mozzarella Sticks with ranch, potato skins and chicken strips. I liked some mixed drink that I can't remember the name of, but that I suddenly have a taste for. It might have had the word "Cowabunga" in it, but I'm not sure. But it was fruity and strong and sooo good. I used to get the Cajun Chicken Sandwich, until I got one where the chicken was raw.

Woody's was our comfort place. Where we went when I was so, so sick - just so I could feel like I was getting out somewhere. It was where we would order To Go, pick it up and take it back to our little house on Chester Lane when I was too sick even for Woody's but didn't want Chipotle.

The last time we were there - both kids in tow, we said we'd never go back because the food had lost it's luster, the service was no longer what it used to be and the bathrooms were disgusting... but I sort of imagined that we would anyway. Because it was once our "Cheers" and how hard is it to screw up Mozzarella Sticks?

When I told Daniel they'd closed down, he took my hand and said, "They can't tear down our love, honey." It's true... but it's a little bit sad when the places you went to so much as a young, new couple start disappearing. When the family is better, Daniel and I need to hurry up and go to Mama Tosca's and relive the night he proposed before we can't do that anymore either.

Sickness, Cubed

2010-01-26T10:38:00.000-08:00

Zoe woke up last night crying, coughing, wheezing and gasping for breath. When we'd gotten her to calm down and felt confident that we did not need to rush her to the ER, she and I settled into the guest room. I held her as she tossed and turned. She slept, I did not.

Daniel took Finnegan to Cheryl's this morning, as planned and left Z with me. She and I stayed huddled in the bed feeling miserable together. She's running a fever now and goes to her doctor in a half hour.

My husband was supposed to be able to work this week, but now he's home again to help take care of Z and take her to her appointment since I still feel like hell. Walking across the room takes my breath away.

I STILL don't have any of my blood test results or info on my CT Scan. What I do know, is that I'm not pregnant... not that I thought I was - and that the site of my TB test looks normal so far. I called my doctor's office at 10am and they said they'd call me right back. Um. I haven't heard back.

Daniel is now sick too. He's coughing and looks horrible.

It's like there's a plague on my house.

And now we have ants.

Insert many curse words, HERE.

In Sickness

2010-01-24T10:01:00.001-08:00

Last Monday night, we loaded up the family and went to Urgent Care. I wasn't feeling right and knew it would only get worse if I didn't get any meds in my system as soon as possible. Finn was being especially cranky, not eating as much and coughing. We were seen fairly quickly. The doctor said I had a bacterial infection and prescribed antibiotics. Finn was sick, but not that bad off, so we'd wait to give him any meds - just continue monitoring him. I thought we were on the road to recovery.

Monday night I started running a fever. I felt even worse the next day and by Wednesday, I was trying to get a hold of my doctor's office to get in as soon as they'd take me. They made room and saw me just before 10am, I was in x-rays ten minutes later. Turned out, I had pneumonia.

Four days later, I'm still as sick as I was that morning. I'm taking strong antibiotics, doing breathing treatments 4 times a day, and I keep my rescue inhaler close at hand. Daniel had to take the entire week off to help take care of me and the kids. I can barely get up to walk across the room, let alone chase two toddlers. My parents got here last night and are watching the kids so I can keep resting and Daniel can try to catch up on some work. They'll stay thru tomorrow evening and when they leave, they'll be leaving behind food for us to just heat up and eat. Cheryl is going to take both kids from us Tuesday-Friday while Daniel is at work, and we're going to hope for the best.

Thankfully, we are getting the help we need.

The hardest part about all of this is stopping myself from doing things around the house. I want to rush to the kids when they need me. I want to clean the kitchen and pick up all the toys. I need to do laundry. I feel bad that my husband is doing everything. I'm anxious to be back to myself so I can start contributing again.

As of now, we're waiting for some test results that we will hopefully get tomorrow. My doc thinks this started with something else. We're checking for Valley Fever, which seems to be the most likely culprit. Friday, they did a CT scan of my lungs to "search for other pathogens" and they did a full blood panel. Monday, my Dad will take me to get tested for TB.

I'm ready to be well again. I'm tired of this.

Dear Finnegan,

2010-01-11T15:49:00.000-08:00

On this day one year ago, you were just eleven days old. So little and new to our family but already we had all fallen in love with you. I remember thinking then, as I do now, that you were meant to be with us at exactly the time that you came into our lives.

You see, when Daddy and I decided we'd like to bring another child into this world, we had no idea how fast it would happen. We were sure we would need help like with your sister. We imagined the "process" would take several months and we'd get pregnant again after maybe a year of trying. Well, you and fate had other plans because you were conceived 2 months after our "let's have another baby" talk. In fact, I had made an appointment with my doctor to talk to them about my trouble getting pregnant and had to change that to a prenatal appointment. This is why you are called our "budget baby" by the way, not because you are at all less expensive than your sister to take care of.

When you were in my belly, you were so active I was sure you were going to be this wild child with tons of energy. I was right and wrong. Unlike your sister, who is currently very vocal, you like to sit back and observe things. You speak softly as you go about your business walking and crawling and taking things apart. You sit in my lap and play with my hair and sing softly to me and you quietly sing yourself to sleep in baby talk. Like your sister, you are very curious and very, very, VERY expressive. I think you started arching your eyebrows from my womb because you were giving us those sly looks right away.

While you have a more reserved approach to interacting with new people, you make up for it in your activity. Like when you were in the womb, you like to be moving constantly. You started walking 3 weeks ago and 2 weeks ago, you started running. You like to throw your arms up in the air as you walk/run. I'm not sure what that's all about besides being adorable, but it's definitely not helping you with your balance or knocking into things. It's a miracle if we get through a day without you knocking your sweet little head on a table, bookcase, or a wall. I'm considering getting you a hard hat or maybe wrapping our walls and furniture in blankets and pillows to keep you safe. Not to say that you seem at all affected besides the scratches and bruises - you might protest for a few seconds, but you always get right back up for more. I think you want to keep up with your sister, you love her so.

It brings your daddy and me such joy to see you and Zoe together. You watch everything she does and you seem so amazed and entertained. You follow her all over the place and just laugh at her when she plays with and sings to you. I had worried that because you were so close together I was depriving you both of alone time with me and your daddy, but I know now that you both are thriving getting to be so close in age. That is not to say we don't have our bad moments within a day. You two get impatient with each other and there is sometimes pushing and not wanting to share, but there is mostly hugs and kisses and playing happily.

Yesterday we celebrated your 1st birthday with some of our friends and family. The house was full of people who loved you and I was so proud of you and to get to share our little family with them. You sat back and observed a lot of the time, but you also mingled, played and ate some cake (very neatly, I must add). When it was all over, and the house was picked up, you lay down flat on your back and just passed out from exhaustion. I imagine it takes a lot out of a little boy to celebrate their 1st year twice (we had a small party, just the 4 of us, for you and your Daddy on New Year's Eve).

I love you, baby boy. You really do complete our family.

Mama

Long Time

2010-01-04T16:33:00.000-08:00

Wow! I honestly had no idea that I'd not written for over two months.

I'm not sure if it was that thing that happened in September... or maybe it was the holidays, or my family of four being sick for almost the entire month of November, but I just didn't make the time and I've missed it.

A lot has happened. Good things.

I'm driving again. I'm doing it very cautiously and I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I'm in a car, but I drive when I need to.

That's my big news, really.

Other great things happened:

Finn started crawling, finally. And then the furniture walking and then... 2 weeks shy of his 1st birthday, he walked. At 1 year and 4 days he is cruising around the house, keeping up with Zoe and RUNNING! It's amazing and scary and wonderful to see such a little human being running and laughing maniacally. He's a hoot.

We had both sets of grandparents with us for Christmas and that was perfect. Both kids had a lovely Christmas and just soaked in all the attention they got. Daniel and I even got to go out and see a movie: Sherlock Holmes, so good.

Instead of doing a recap of the last couple months, I'm just going to tell you that you'll be seeing more of me in 2010. I didn't make any resolutions this year, but I am seeking more balance in my life and I've noticed that writing and venting makes me feel healthier and happier.

You Know....

2009-10-28T14:28:00.000-07:00

you're a theatre person and/or a mom to a toddler when you find yourself making up songs* about the asshats you share the road** with.

P-R-I,C,K
I,C,K
I,C,K

P-R-I-C-K
You are a
Prick!

ck,ck,ck

Further proof:

***
Last night I sung an impromptu duet with my daughter about bedtime. Impromptu because my portion of the song is verses I made up a while ago about it being time for bed and how little girls... and now, little boys - need their sleep. Zoe's portion is new, as far as I know and it's about how it is not time for bed but in fact, time to "PLAY THE DRUM!" and "DANCE!" She harmonized perfectly with me and managed to overlap with my portion of the song in such a way that it sounded like we'd been singing this song exactly this way for AGES.

I've said it before, but
1. We have a lot of fun in this house.
2. Zoe seems to be musically inclined and a GENIUS.

* - Zoe was not in the car with me and Finn was asleep.
** - I'm driving again. VERY cautiously and very anxious while I'm doing it... and only short distances in low traffic areas, but I'm driving. Baby steps.
*** - Photo not actually taken last night, but rather last week when Zoe requested that she be a princess and we proceeded to call each other "Your Highness" and speak in very uppity, exaggerated accents... even Zoe. See? Theatre people!

Vulnerable

2009-10-14T21:57:00.000-07:00

When Daniel and I fell in love, I felt what it was like to have complete happiness and know that I had a partner whom I could depend on. After years in a horrible relationship, I discovered what it meant to love someone so completely, selflessly and honestly. We faced health obstacles, but we persevered through our sense of humor and knowledge that we would always be there for each other. Marrying him cemented that for me and while on one hand I felt like we were unstoppable, I also was keenly aware that I never wanted to lose him.

Shortly after our one year wedding anniversary, we found out that we were expecting our first child, Zoe. In those nine months of carrying her, I worried for her well being every single day. And then I met her. I held her in my arms and looked in her eyes and I felt this over powering love for this little being I'd helped create. It was love at first sight, I was meant to be HER mom.

There is no way I can compare the love I feel for Daniel and Zoe. What I can do is tell you that when we she came into the world, I became fiercely protective of our family and I suddenly felt very vulnerable to all the horrible things that happen every day. Fast forward nineteen months later to Finnegan's birth and that protectiveness increased exponentially. Now I had these two little beings who depended on Daniel and me to keep them safe and healthy.

After Daniel and I met I knew I'd finally met the love of my life. I had no idea that I would be so lucky as to have THREE loves of my life. My worst nightmare is to have anything happen to any of them.

When we had our accident almost three weeks ago, I was sure I was going to lose them all forever. And typing those words literally hurts my heart.

I'm not going to detail what I felt in those moments again because frankly, I can't. In the days since, I've been trying to let it all go. I've been trying to forget it all, but I can't do that either. As much as I'd like to just pick myself up and carry on like we were never in the accident, I just can't. Now that we've had the accident, I feel like we are all even more vulnerable than before. I don't feel safe. I feel exposed to all these dangers. Rationally, I know that we're physically going to be alright. Zoe's scars will fade. Eventually my physical pain will subside. But the feeling that something horrible might happen again when I least expect it nags at me. I'm afraid to drive. I've been behind the wheel once since the accident - two weeks ago - and I had panic attacks and cried the entire way home. When I'm a passenger, my entire body is tense and it somehow finds a way to get even more tense when we have to go through an intersection. Every vehicle coming in our direction seems like it is speeding towards us. I brace myself for an impact multiple times in one trip and flashes of the truck that hit us come at me. The fear is not just with me when we're in our car. I'm afraid to be home alone. I jump when I hear a noise. I rush to my kids if they make any noise out of the ordinary. I've convinced myself that danger will come again when we least expect it - like it's out to get us because we are not alert enough or we're too happy.

I know I'm supposed to just be grateful. I've been told I need to get back to driving and let it all go... but something is holding me back. I do not feel like myself anymore.

2 Weeks

2009-10-09T14:22:00.000-07:00

It's been almost 2 weeks since our accident. Twelve days since we were hit as we were making a left turn, by someone running a red light. Ten days since I sat down and wrote about the accident and what I was feeling.

At first, it was for selfish reasons. I have always turned to my writing as a way to purge and cope, so when I was feeling overwhelmed with the sensory flashbacks of the accident, I decided to write about it. I thought it would help me let it go.

When I’d finished, I decided I wanted to share what I was going through – first with my friends and family through my Facebook. The responses I got were so powerful; I decided to post it on my blog.

I never expected to be contacted by the local newspaper. When I got the email requesting to publish what I’d written, I seriously considered declining. It was one thing to share with a few hundred of my closest friends and my small following of blog readers, but this felt so exposing. I wanted to walk away from these bad feelings and focus on being alive like so many people had been encouraging me to do.

But I couldn’t just walk away. Not from what I was feeling and not from the opportunity to raise awareness.

I feel like my family survived that impact for a purpose. I feel like I’ve been given this opportunity to share what happened to us and get people to focus on being better drivers and being more aware. I hope that people will read that my children’s car seats saved their lives and check to see that their own children’s car seats are installed correctly.

I’m choosing to turn this into a positive. This is not the last you will hear about this.

Nightmare

2009-09-29T11:57:00.000-07:00

If I'm not making the conscious effort not to think about Sunday, the memories rush at me vividly. I see the truck zooming towards us. I feel the breath taken away from me as I think we're going to be able to get out of his way and then the realization that we can't. I see his truck hit us as I'm twisting in my seat to grab for my children. I see Zoe's face. I see the truck. I feel the impact. I hear Finnegan screaming. I see Zoe's face. I hear the impact. And he hits us. It feels like he hits us again, and again, and again. I don't understand what is happening. Why is he hitting us over and over again?! I feel the hoarseness in my throat as I scream. I'm screaming over and over again. I'm yelling for God. I'm yelling for my little girl. I'm cursing the other driver. Why is he doing this to us?! I'm seeing Zoe's little face, it is contorted, sobbing, screaming. I'm hearing my children screaming and crying with me. I can't hear my husband. I can't see him. All I can see is my little girl who I can't get to. I can't see Finnegan. My little baby Finnegan. I'm sure we're all going to die. He keeps hitting us! I feel no physical pain. I am sure that I will live, but I don't think my family will. "Oh God! Oh God!"

When the violent movement stopped, I braced myself. I stared at my daughter. I was still sobbing. I could not stop screaming. Could not stop the violent lurching in my chest. Zoe's eyes were open. She was crying. Calling for Mama and Daddy. She was alive. Finn was shrieking - alive. Daniel was alive. Maybe it wasn't that bad, I thought. And then I saw Zoe's blood. Small pieces of glass in her forehead. I don't remember taking off my seat belt, but I remember lunging backwards to reach for them. I need to see Finnegan's face, but it is so hard to see him when he is behind me and facing the rear. Zoe is bleeding. She is reaching for me. I see the blood. I'm still screaming and crying. I think I am calling the other driver horrible names. Screaming. I'm seeing him walk towards us. I want him away from us. I'm screaming at him, "Fuck you!" Why is he walking towards us? Who is he? I want him far, far away from my family. I must be scaring my children so much, but I can't stop the screaming. I see a red bandanna that Daniel bought me on our honeymoon in Ashland. I feel like I haven't seen it in ages, but there it is on the floor and I grab it and put it to Zoe's forehead. Must stop the bleeding. Stop bleeding! Why is it spilling out in slow motion. It feels like so much blood. I don't want to push the glass in further. This is a NIGHTMARE. I've had this nightmare before, but it was not so violent as this.

Daniel is reaching for Zoe, reaching for Finnegan. He's still in the driver's seat. I'm screaming, holding the bandanna to her head. People are rushing towards us. I get out. Daniel is on the phone. 911. I hear people all around me calling 911. The block is spinning. A man is next to Zoe. He's talking to someone on his phone. He's saying she's going to be OK. Is she going to be OK? I'm having trouble breathing. My chest hurts. I think something has stabbed me, but I see nothing. I have my daughter's blood on my hands. I'm shaking and crying. A lady is at Finnegan's side. Touching him. Checking him. She has long brown hair and sunglasses, I think. I can't see her face, but I can hear her voice still. "He's OK. She's going to be OK. You're OK. Breathe."

I hear sirens. We are in the middle of the intersection. I'm running around to Zoe's side of the car. I've grabbed one of Finnegan's burp cloths - it's white with turquoise polka dots and now someone is using it to stop Zoe's bleeding. The red bandanna is discarded. Zoe is sobbing. Zoe wants water. I look to the left of the car and see her little pink juice cup ten feet from the car, on the asphalt. I'm shaking but I pick it up, unscrew the lid to check that it's OK and offer it to her but she doesn't want it now. I'm walking to the other side of the car. Finn is not crying. He's just looking around. Quiet, but they tell me he's OK. I get my phone.

Cheryl. We need Cheryl and Chuck. I call her. I don't remember what I say. She doesn't understand me. I have to repeat myself. I tell her to come. I need her. We need her.

I hear sirens.

Mom and Dad. I call them. On their way home from Vegas. I don't know what to say, the words just come. "We are OK, but Zoe is bleeding and I need you. I need you. Be careful, but I NEED you."

EMT's come. I see firemen. One of the firemen puts his hand on my shoulder, asks me if I'm hurt. I tell him yes, but I keep grabbing at my chest. I tell him I hurt in my chest, it burns. I'm still crying. I can't breathe. He tells me I'm OK. He tells me we'll be OK. He says it's normal to feel the way I do, I'm OK. Zoe is out of the car. I don't know how they got her because she is still in her car seat and they cannot open her door. EMT guy asks me if I want Finnegan in the ambulance. Yes! In the ambulance! Take him. Take her! I want to know they are OK. I want to know they are safe. Police woman takes my husband to ask questions. Fireman is asking my name. Asking my children's names and ages. He wants to know where my husband is.

"Talking to the officer."
"Where?"
"Talking. Police."
"The older gentleman?"
"No! There!"

I'm getting frustrated. Where is my husband? Why does the fireman not see him? Is something wrong? Why does he think I am married to the old man? I lean out of the back of the ambulance, "THERE!"

The EMT has given Zoe a teddy bear with a blue t-shirt. She's hugging it to her body. Gripping it. She's not crying. I'm not crying. We are in the ambulance. Finn is staring at me. I'm holding Zoe's little hand. We both have her blood on us. Her eyes are bright blue from crying and they contrast with the red on her head, the bright yellow of her pretty sundress. A nurse in the ER later tells me that I can get the stains out, but I want to throw the dress away. I never want to see it again. I never want to see anything associated with the accident ever again.

I'm not OK.

I am grateful that my family is alive. Grateful my children are now safe. Grateful not to be a widow. But I am not OK. I am angry. I am scared. I am stressed. I've been reliving the "accident" over and over again for the last 24 hours. No. It's 11:06 am. We were hit right about now on Sunday. 48 hours. I'm trying to keep it together. I'm trying to focus on what a gift we've been given to all be alive. I'm trying to be myself and laugh and joke, but I just want to scream. I want this pain in my body to be gone. I want me heart to stop hurting. I want to stop reliving the wreck in forward and reverse.

I want to know why that man needed to get where he was going so fast. Why did he run the red light?! Why were his needs more important than anyone else's on the road? He could have killed us all. The police officer specifically said we are all "lucky to be alive." It's "amazing there were no fatalities". "Those car seats saved your children."

Even if that man had had an emergency, I can't help but wonder why he thought his emergency was more important than anyone else. You run a red light and you risk every one's life. Are my children less important than you getting to your appointment, rehearsal, meal, tee time? I don't get it. HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY FAMILY'S LIFE IN YOUR HANDS AND MAKE THE DECISION THAT WE ARE LESS IMPORTANT!?

I'm having trouble right now. I don't know how or when I'm going to get over the feeling that we were all going to die. I'm having trouble not thinking about all the what ifs. What if Daniel's door had gotten the brunt of the impact instead of Zoe's? He would not have made it. He didn't have all that side impact protection that Zoe had with her car seat. What if we hadn't secured the car seats correctly? What if the glass recycling in the back had not been covered (moments before the accident I almost took the cart cover Daniel had thrown over it off because I didn't want a $50 material item to get dirty)? The glass broke into shards and tiny pieces. That glass was right behind my son who was facing the rear of the vehicle. The glass could have hit him. The glass could have flown all around and cut all of us very, badly. As violent and horrible as the accident was, it could have been 400 times worse.

"Those car seats saved your children."

I will never be the same again.

And I hope that everyone I know never will be either. Drive safe. Please. Drive. Safe.

oh, hello!

2009-09-16T14:58:00.000-07:00

Hello, blog! How are you? It has been so very long since I've looked at you or written words to be posted on you. Remember when I said I would write more often? I was serious. Seriously. But then I got wrapped up in all this being a mom stuff and I literally felt like there was barely time to breathe let alone try to pick up my camera or type a post. And then I got sick... and Zoe got sick and then Finn got sick like, 6 hours later and then oh my goodness! Daniel got sick. So my entire family was on antibiotics and we were all miserable and cranky. And then I turned 33, but I felt horrible and so did the kids so we just stayed home and were miserable together - but eating cake! - instead of partying like rock stars and drinking adult beverages while the kids hung out with their Cheryl and Chuck-Chuck like we'd planned. And then on the very last day of taking her antibiotics, Zoe broke out in a rash. It was a crazy rash that started on her neck one afternoon, spread to her back by bath time, and had fully covered her body by the next morning. We called them her polka dots and made her think we thought it was the coolest thing since um, CAKE because we didn't want her to feel bad. Having your two year old inspect all the welts on her body and ask "What's wrong a me?" is heartbreaking and then when she kisses her little arm and says "It's OK, my arm." it's almost impossible to not get a little emotional. And then when your already wild child is given steroids to battle the allergic reaction and is literally trying to scale the walls and furniture because she's so hyper... it's impossible not to feel completely overwhelmed.

And then Finn and Daniel started feeling better. And Zoe's rash finally went away after going to the doc 5x in one week. And now I feel... dare I say it? I feel good. Zoe has started back to dance class for the year. We went to her 1st birthday party. This morning we went out for a treat and story time. Life is back on track.Zoe is in her room napping. Finnegan is napping next to me. My house is quiet, calm, a mess, but relatively stress-free.

In about 26 hours, Daniel and I will drop off Zoe and Finnegan with their Cheryl and Chuck-Chuck. We might go get some Chipotle and walk around Borders for a few minutes, but then we're going to go home and relax and finish packing. Friday morning we're taking a 6 a.m flight to Dallas for a wedding. We will see old friends. We will get to focus on just being Keely and Daniel for almost 72 hours *. We will celebrate our friends marriage. We will dance. We will drink adult beverages. We will party like rock stars. We will definitely eat CAKE.

* - As excited as I am, I've got to say - I am really, really nervous. While Zoe has had plenty of sleepovers away from us, Finn has only had one. Each of them has only ever been 10 minutes from me, so leaving the state... the time zone! feels like a very big deal. I know that they will have fun and that we will have fun, but I also know that I'm going to feel a little bit like a part of me is missing.

Adventures in Story-Time

2009-07-30T16:19:00.000-07:00

For the last couple months I've been trying to make taking Zoe to story time a part of our "Girl's Day" ritual. It gives Zoe an opportunity to interact with kids her age: sing, dance, play, and listen to a story. I like to make it a big event for her: I get her up, put her in a cute dress, attempt to do her hair and then we go to Starbucks for a special treat before we head to the "main event". Last week, we had Finnegan with us since their 3rd grandma (a very special lady who has become our kid's surrogate grandma since we have no family here in Bakersfield) was taking a much deserved week off. I was a little worried how it would all go since Zoe is used to it being "our thing" and well, I wasn't sure how Finn would be with the large crowd.

First stop: Starbucks. We forgo the drive-thru and always go inside on our "Girl's" mornings. It gives Zoe a chance to be more independent. She's very friendly with all the customers and baristas and loves the attention she gets. I'm loving how well behaved she is and her usage of "Please" and "Thank you" without being cued. I feel like it's important to expose her to new situations and let her flex her growing social skills.

Finnegan was chill:

Zoe loved her treat:

Then we jump back in the car. The important thing is to keep the energy up, so I put on crazy music for us to sing and "seat-dance" to. We also play roller-coaster whenever the mood strikes us, usually after we've been stopped at a red light or stop sign. I especially love when she tells her brother, "Throw your hands up, baby!" He has yet to oblige her, but if his yells are any indication, I'm sure he wants to.

When we got to story-time, I parked Finn's stroller in safe spot that was out of the way and carried him to where Zoe and I usually sit. I like to sit close to where Zoe is going to be at this point because she still needs my guidance on when to sit or stand and I know she feels better having me closer. She now ventures off my lap to mingle with the other little ones, but she likes to check back frequently and occasionally snuggles up to me if she's feeling insecure or nervous. Having Finnegan there with us this week, added to her confidence. She was very proud of him and kept telling everyone, "Look, my baby brother!" He loved seeing all the kids and watched them all very closely.

Here are some observations about this week:

- Some of the other mom's and dad's look like they really do not want to be there: glazed over faces, scowls. It makes me laugh inside because I remember when taking Zoe seemed so exhausting. I was a nervous wreck every time Zoe ventured away from me and I was sure she was going to somehow disrupt story-time with her antics. I've come to realize I need to just relax and let Zoe be herself. I make sure she sits when she's asked to sit and I ask her to be quiet when the story is being read, but I've given up on trying to completely control her. I think most of the parents struggle with that, but there is a clear separation between having fun and misbehaving. Story-time should be fun, that's what will encourage the kids to continue having a good relationship with books. I'm also a firm believer that if we don't give children the freedom to be independent and possibly make some mistakes, they will never learn right from wrong. I mean, it's not like they're beating each other up.

- That said... I thought I was going to lose it when a girl about 4 or 5 kept pushing Zoe. And I mean really pushing, hard. Zoe would be standing there smiling or singing along with the lady who runs story-time, and this little girl would come barreling toward her like a tornado and shove her. The first time it happened, I was shocked. She was out of Zoe's space as quickly as she had come into it. But then it happened again. And again. And my little girl was running to me with her finger in her mouth and eyes turned down - which is her signal that she is either very sleepy or very upset. I comforted her and she gently patted Finn's head and she eventually ventured towards the center again. When the little girl went after her one last time, Zoe managed to get out of her way and the girl found someone else to run into. The thing that got me was, the little Tasmanian Devil's mom was oblivious to it all. Laughing, chatting it up with other mom's while her kid bullied mine. Giving your child freedom is one thing, but there should be limits. Story-time (and other children's activities) shouldn't be an excuse to ignore your kids/let other people watch them while you socialize.

- A few minutes later a sweet little girl standing next to Zoe started sobbing out of no where. Completely unprovoked, she was just having a toddler moment... but the lady in charge didn't see what happened - and it's no wonder! Since most parents sit back while their kids crowd around this woman, it is impossible for her to know who is pushing whom and really, it's not her job to keep track of the kids who misbehave. All she knew was that she had an upset girl on her hands, so she stops what she is doing, bends down to Zoe, looks her straight in the eye and says "No, no, honey. We keep our hands to ourselves." My daughter gets her hyper active sensitivity from me and I could see instantly that her feelings were hurt. Already, it is very important to her that people like her and are entertained by her, so having someone who she truly enjoys seeing every week, think she'd done something wrong... well, my heart broke for her a little bit. Zoe immediately sticks her finger in her mouth and puts her head down as she walks to me. Her little eyes welled up with tears and she nudged her head into my neck. 1. I was confused. I hadn't seen Zoe do anything. 2. The lady that runs story-time is awesome and extremely patient, (my daughter just adores her) but reprimanding Zoe when she hadn't done anything wrong after Zoe had been enduring Tasmanian Devil Girl's attacks was just almost too much for me at that moment. As I watched Zoe try to hold back her tears, I also held back my own... feeling very much like a protective mama bear. I thought there was a chance I'd missed something, (I realize my daughter isn't perfect) but another mom turned to me and patted Zoe's back, "It's OK, sweetie. We know you didn't touch her." It was a relief to know that someone else realized what had - or hadn't happened. As Zoe and Finnegan and I were leaving, I made it a point to say hello to the mom of the girl who had started sobbing and to let her know that I thought it was just a big misunderstanding. I wanted Zoe to be able to make friends with the little girl - and I didn't want the mom to think my baby was a bully. Besides it was either that or use that time to brawl with Tasmanian Devil Girl's mom. I also made it a point to hang back a few minutes so Zoe could have a moment or two to interact with the lady who runs story-time without all the other kids crowding around. While a part of me wanted to tell her Zoe hadn't done anything wrong, I knew by watching them that all had been forgotten and there was no point in bringing it up again. After all, kids are more resilient than we parents sometimes give them credit for, and I know in story-time lady's place I might have done the same thing.

Aside from a few issues, the three of us had a great time. I'm looking forward to next week... even if my daughter did decide that hitting and pushing her mama seemed like a good way to express herself when we got home. Part of me can't blame her... the little girl who pushed her got away with it while Zoe got reprimanded for something she didn't do. I'm not so sure that she realized the injustice of that, but she did take away a greater interest in new ways to "push" people's buttons. We're working on teaching her that isn't how to behave and so far there haven't been anymore incidents. I'm hoping that continues, because I bruise easily.

Milestones

2009-07-27T13:54:00.000-07:00

My son is sitting on the floor in front of me as I type. And that seems like such a monumental thing, because days ago I was asking my mama friends on facebook for advice on what to do with this son of mine who refuses to be happy unless he is in my arms. I wasn't used to this type of baby as Zoe was independent and happy almost all the time. Friends said things would change once he was sitting up on his own and while I was grateful for a light at the end of the tunnel, I didn't believe them. Not really. I was convinced I was doing something wrong even if I knew that was ridiculous.

Finnegan has been sitting up on his own for a week now and he thinks he is the coolest baby ever, you can tell by that arched eyebrow and the huge grin. He's not like other babies I've seen, who slouch and struggle to hold their heads up. Nope. He sits up straight as an arrow and waves his arms around, yelling and laughing. Last week at Zoe's dance class I sat him in front of a little boy just a day older than him. Finn had never been so close to another baby before and he was very interested. They reached out and touched each others feet and fingers. The other little boy cooed and grunted and my son responded with loud yells. Friendly yells, mind you... but loud. Emphatic. And then he started waving his arms and somehow lifting his bottom almost like a little jump. He was obviously telling a very important, dramatic story. The other baby frowned. The other baby whimpered. The other baby made the most pitiful little frown you've ever seen. Clearly, the other baby did not like Finnegan's story. I said, "I think your baby is upset." And then Finn let out one last yell - his finale, maybe? - that sent the other baby into hysteric tears. And then I scooped my little bully up and said we'd try again next week. Gah!

But now, he's sitting at my feet. No worries about who he might upset with his excited grunts and yells, he intermittently bangs on a toy piano and then turns to a toy laptop. Every once in a while he looks up at me with that beaming, happy face, and gives me a loud "MAMAMA" as if to say, THIS is what he's been waiting for. What a happy, happy, dare I say INDEPENDENT little boy.

Hello Again

2009-07-20T14:54:00.000-07:00

I think - aside from the worry you feel when your child is sick - right now the hardest thing for me about being a mother is remembering that I am more than Zoe and Finnegan's mother. Does that make sense?

What I mean is, sometimes, I feel myself getting so wrapped up in the children and the act of mothering them, I forget that I am more than that. I forget to nurture the other facets of my life. I forget that I am also a wife, a friend, a daughter, a creative. I forget to take the time to take care of the things that make me who I am. I forget that I am the sum of ALL my parts and that ignoring any part for too long makes me antsy, frustrated, and less proud of who I am.

Now, clearly... having two children ages 2 and almost 7 months means you have less time for other stuff. It means that these two little beings depend on you for everything and that other things take the backseat. I understand that. I embrace that. I am so happy that I get to stay home with these kids. When the choice between staying home with my kids every night and going out to rehearsals and hanging out with fellow actors became necessary, I chose to stay at home until the kids were old enough to do shows with me or until I felt like the time was right. There was a slight sadness, but not a moments hesitation because I know that theatre will be there for me again someday even if the parts may be different or smaller. But now I know that if I don't have theatre, then I need to spend more time doing the other things that have made me feel proud, creative, like my own person.

So, I'm exploring that.

I need to find a way to make photography blend into my life with the kids. I'm anxious for this damn heat to subside so I can take them out shooting with me. I'm looking into taking the steps I need to learn more and develop my skills into a small business.

And then there's my writing. I'm not the fiction writer my husband is, but I definitely have a passion for putting my thoughts into words. I enjoy sharing my stories and perspective. I love that I have a blog to look back on and see how much I've grown as a person. It makes me happy that someday my kids are going to read my words and learn more about who their mother is... that they will have a record of their beginnings and that when I am gone, they might still hear my voice through the words on paper. I've neglected my writing for a while now, and I need to find a way to make time for it again.

There's more, but just as Finnegan is slowly getting more mobile - as of today he now can sit up on his own! - I need to take baby steps in figuring out how to make time for me.

Summer Days

2009-06-29T15:43:00.000-07:00

Just after Zoe’s 2^nd birthday, Daniel and I finally bit the bullet and had a fence installed around the pool in our backyard. After nearly nineteen months in this house we decided it was time. Zoe is one active little girl and we weren’t able to take full advantage of having such a lovely and large yard because we were constantly in fear of her running or falling straight into the pool. Zoe had grown tall enough to reach the doorknob and the thought of our daughter being in danger when there was something we could do about it was almost too much to bear for any longer than we already had. So we said goodbye to $2200 and have not regretted it once.

In the last month we enjoyed many evenings as a family. Nothing wears out a toddler better than running around like a wild child, playing with her dogs and breathing in some fresh air. Ahem. Well, two out of three isn’t bad…

We had some uncharacteristically lovely weather in the last month: moderate temperatures, slight breezes. Each night after dinner, we’d open the backdoor and Zoe would go running with her arms stretched out to her sides like she was flying. The dogs would follow quickly behind; times like these are what they have been eagerly waiting for since we brought the little monkey home. I would follow after them, calling out to all of them to play nice and Daniel would bring Finnegan’s bouncer out into the middle of the yard so he could see all the action. Daniel and I pulled a couple chairs off the patio and placed them on either side of our son so we could sit and watch Zoe run and play, but we never stayed seated for long.

Seeing Zoe have so much fun was infectious. We ran, chased, danced, and sang with her. We blew bubbles, spinned her in the air and Daniel gave her piggyback rides. She would explore: touching the trees, plants and flowers. She would bring me the occasional snail, but get nervous if a fly or bee buzzed too close to her. Most nights I would snap pictures, either with my iPhone or camera. Daniel would make Zoe swords from palm fronds. She would swish her “sword”, cutting through the sky one moment, singing “Everybody was Kung Fu fighting! Ya! Ya!” And then it would become her magic wand. Daniel taught her to say, “Bipitty Bobbity Boo!” as she pointed it at the dogs, me, her little brother.

Finnegan would just take it all in from his seat. Content to watch his parents and sister play. I’d catch him smiling at the sky and wonder what it was he saw through his big, inquisitive eyes. Where I see his sister as this entertainer, I see in him a thoughtful, old soul. But I could be completely wrong. He could be biding his time, waiting for the day when his Daddy builds him a sword so he can join in the adventure.

The dogs usually grow tired of all the activity fairly quickly. It’s hard work keeping up with a toddler, I know. Eventually they come back to the chairs we have set up so they can get some scratches behind their ears, shelter from the wild child, and maybe even to guard the little boy they have both grown to adore in the last six months.

Me? When I’m not playing with Zoe, I’m taking it all in. Daniel and I have learned to take shifts until Miss Independent decides it’s time for her to explore on her own. I enjoy sitting and watching Daniel play with our daughter. Their mutual love and admiration for each other is easy to see, to feel. When it’s my turn to play, I can’t help but glance over at my boys by the chairs. I imagine they are communicating – that they share some secret language that only fathers and sons that share a birthday can have. It is true what everyone has said since Finnegan was born, I see so much of Daniel in him now… his eyes, his smile, his thoughtful and serious expressions.

The weather has quickly turned hot. Finally, we are experiencing the summer we’ve been bracing ourselves for… the summer we were happy to get a brief reprieve from. We haven’t had one of our “Family Evening’s” outside for a few days and I miss it. But I am so happy to have those memories and the photos I took. They will tide me over until the weather cools again. And then I imagine I will miss the activities I’ve thought up for us to do as we try to beat the heat and entertain our little monkey.

The other night, as Daniel and I sat in our chairs with Finnegan and Zoe ran around, I had this overwhelming feeling of happiness. I remember thinking that these are the moments that I want to remember always. These are the days that I hope my children will remember, too. It was a good feeling to be able to sit back and know without any doubt that this is the life I always wanted and to get to appreciate every single moment as it unfolded. There are goals I still want to accomplish, places I want to get to visit, explore and live… but at that moment there was no place else I would have rather been. I’m pretty sure I sighed with that contentment, that knowledge. Life is good. No, life is incredible.

Dance in her heart

2009-06-16T14:28:00.000-07:00

A couple months ago, Daniel and I signed Zoe up for her first dance class. We thought it would be good for her to have a fun activity for the summer that would allow her to make new friends and take advantage of her love of performing. We were also hoping that a dance class might teach her to follow directions a little bit better and instill as much discipline and focus as possible for a 2 year old. We didn't have huge expectations - humble ones, actually. I figured at worst, there's nothing cuter than a kid in a tutu, prancing around to music... and multiply that by infinity when it's your kid.

So we prepared her. We talked about how she was going to get to take a dance class. We read her a book about ballerinas. We got her a couple leotards with tutu's, tap shoes, ballet shoes, and a special "monkey ballerina" dance bag. She was excited. We were excited.

After weeks of hyping up the dance class, I got butterflies this morning as we got Zoe ready. Would she be afraid? Would she cry? Would she make friends? Would she run around like a maniac and ignore any and all directions? As she pranced around in her little outfit, I told myself: Maybe, maybe, probably and definitely. I was 50% correct.

Here's a breakdown of the class, for the grandparents especially:

Daniel, Zoe and I got to the studio a few minutes early and parked in a very special parking spot.

When we got inside, she sat quietly next to her Daddy observing all the other little 2 and 3 year olds.

After a bit she stood up, grabbed my hand and walked me across the room to a crowded spot. She wanted to be in the center of things, but she didn't want me far either. She smiled at the little kids around her but played shy for a bit. Just as she was inching towards a little boy and letting go of my hand, the teachers came out and read out loud who would be in which class and then they invited the parents to watch the first lesson in the classroom - for the remaining classes we'll have to sit in the waiting room and watch on the televisions.

Zoe loved the sound of her tap shoes on the floor. She danced all around and laughed and had a great time by herself while other little girls clung to their parents and cried because they were nervous. Not our girl! Soon after this pic was taken, Miss Jennifer told Zoe she had "dancing in her heart."

The teacher asked the girls to sit down and Zoe listened!

But then, when it was time to get up and dance, Zoe wouldn't budge. This photo was taken right about when Miss Jennifer told Zoe should couldn't dance on her bottom, but my kid tried proving her wrong.

Then it was time for ballet shoes. Zoe didn't want to take her tap shoes off, but she got over that quickly and really let lose. I can tell already, my girl is going to be a bit of a class clown.

She got really comfortable:

And made a new friend.

But kept us in her sights frequently.

She did some tumbling.

And when class was finished, she waited patiently - sort of - for a special ballerina stamp on her hand. And look! Already she has learned to stand in line... on her tippy toes!

All in all, her first class was a success. Daniel and I were delighted to see her enjoying herself so much and we were relieved that she was not at all afraid. There was a brief moment when she pushed her shoulder up to her ear waiting for her teacher to look at her, but that was the only sign of insecurity and it was fleeting. I think this is going to be a great experience for her and I'm especially looking forward to her recital in August.

Happy Birthday, Little Monkey

2009-05-23T06:32:00.000-07:00

Dearest Zoe,

It is hard to believe that exactly 2 years ago this very moment, I was laying in a hospital bed watching my little newborn sleep peacefully in her bed. That day was the beginning of a life I had dreamed of, but I had no idea just how much you would change my life and fill me with more love and joy than I ever fathomed.

Today is your 2nd birthday. You're two! And in some ways that feels like that just cannot be possible. It was only just yesterday that I heard you cry out for the first time and I got to hold you in my arms. And now you are this little girl, full of spunk and personality.

You have a flair for the dramatic and a great sense of humor. You've got some serious dance moves and a love for singing. You love to hug. You love to explore and take things apart to see how they work. You adore being outside, running, playing, smelling the flowers. You love your Bailey and Max. You love Tinkerbell and Ariel and Bolt. You think brushing your teeth is so much fun and bath time is your favorite. You are sensitive and thoughtful. You are a wonderful big sister. You're fearless... a daredevil who we must always keep an eye on. You thing shopping is so much fun and especially enjoy Target. You love to read and play with your instruments. You like going "bye-bye" and meeting new people. You have a way of making every one smile around you because you do things with such joy and gusto. Your vocabulary is extensive.

Here's some of my favorites:

Please

Thank you!

AMAZING!

Awesome!

Cool!

HI baby.

Baby is crying?

What's wrong?

It's ok, baby.

Pirate!

Potty time

I love....

Let's go nigh nigh

Let's read a book

Let's go outside

That's funny!

I love it!

Cute!

Hi. Hello. I'd like a chocolate milk in a box. Thank you.

You make us laugh every single day and every day I get to spend with you, I feel blessed. You are teaching me to let go of needing to control every little thing. You are teaching me that there is joy in the simple things. You have taught me to be stronger, to be silly, to be more curious. Getting to be your mom is one of the best things to ever happen to me and I love you so very much, Zoe.

Happy Birthday, monkey. I look forward to the next year and all the possibilities and adventures it holds for you... for us.

Still Here

2009-05-13T20:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a while.

I've been busy.

Having two kids isn't easy...

I am grateful I have such an amazing partner -

in parenthood and life.

I laugh every single day.

I also teach, learn, and grow as my children do before my eyes.

Speaking of...

I wish I had a camera built into my eyes

so I could capture every single moment.

These are the days I want to remember always.

This is hard work, but so worth it.

Conversations With Zoe

2009-04-25T09:36:00.000-07:00

Mommy?

Yes?

Mama!

Yes, honey?

Mamaaaa!!

Yes, Zoe?

What's that?

Mama's pumping.

What's that?

Mama's making milk for our baby.

What's that?

It's milk.

PAUSE.

Chocolate.

No. Just regular milk for the baby.

Chocolate milk?

No. Plain milk, for the baby.

LONG PAUSE.

What's that?

It's mama's pump. So she can make milk for our baby.

Mama?

Yes, Zoe?

What's that?

It's milk, honey. Just like what mama used to do for you.

Good job, mama!

Thank you, Zoe.

Zoe has been telling me "good job" a lot lately. Whether I'm changing her or Finnegan's diaper, pumping, fixing her breakfast, reading to her, etc, she will look at me square in the eye, nod her head and tell me "Good job, mama." After a particularly horrible diaper of hers last week, she smiled and said, "GREAT job, mama!" I've never been one to feel under appreciated by Daniel or the kids, but these extra words of encouragement from Zoe have been lovely to hear. It's a nice feeling to know that she has picked up this need to express her feelings and that she is indeed pleased with the "work" I am doing for her. Even more so though, it means she is hearing the adults in her life tell each other when they are doing a good job and she herself is being told "Good job!" frequently. It means we are in fact, doing a good job at teaching her to be positive, encouraging and thoughtful and that makes me very proud.

Now, if I could only figure out why she keeps telling us to "Stand back!" She does so very seriously when she thinks we're about to take her plate away. Very authoritative, very protective, very... cute. But also a little bit bossy.

Glasses

2009-04-22T22:55:00.000-07:00

Last week, my friend Jen wrote a post where she declared herself a "glass-half-empty kind of person" and it got me thinking about what type of person I am.

First thought that comes to mind is I'm a glass-half-full gal.

And then I start to have my doubts about that.

Truth be told, if I hear a friend getting all down on themselves or their situation... I generally have something positive to say. I want to pick them up and enlighten them. I want them to have a positive outlook so that they can be the change they want or need. I want them to be happy and I want to help them be happy because that makes me happy. Happy happy happy.

That said, I am not this optimistic for myself. At least not anymore. I couldn't tell you for sure when this changed.

It could have been during my first marriage and in the year before I met Daniel when I felt lost and hopeless and like the world was against me.

It could have been when I got injured at work... just a simple sprain... and developed RSD/CRPS in my arm and had to undergo painful treatments and ridiculous amounts of medicine - like Morphine - to manage the pain.

It could have been when my Nana lost her battle with cancer and I was struck with the very real and pessimistic fear that I too might face a similar passing even though I quit smoking five years ago.

More likely though, it was the realization that I have something so amazing, pure, and uncommon with Daniel that I started having this fear that it would be taken away from me. This feeling grew exponentially with the knowledge that I was going to get to be a mother and then when I held each of my children in my arms for the first time, and has only gotten worse as I see all the horrible things that happen daily on the news and yes, in the blog world.

Daniel is the cheerleader of our family now. While I take it upon myself to try to lift everyone around me and spare them my insecurities, fears, and pessimism... he is the one who assures me that everything is going to be alright.

And for the most part I believe him, because despite everything, we have persevered. We have gotten through the challenges thrown our way. We have healed from our losses. We have learned to manage the pain. We are good, loving parents to our children. We're pretty much sleeping through the night.

But sometimes I want to tell him, "My glass is half empty!" And he seems to know and he convinces me that no, it's filled to the brim.

Sometimes my outlook is so bad I see no glass at all, let alone a half empty one. "Someone stole my fricken glass! Who does that?" And he finds some way to remind me that the glasses are all in the cabinet ready to be filled up.

And I know all of this is true. I know because these are the things I tell myself, but I believe it more when Daniel has his arms wrapped around me.

I'm a glass-half-empty gal, but I don't want to be. I need a refill. Kthnxbai.

Nevermind that the headphones weren't actually plugged into anything...

2009-04-17T23:03:00.000-07:00

My girl has music in her heart.

Have a great weekend.

Remembering Maddie

2009-04-14T14:30:00.000-07:00

Thanks to It's a Schmitty Life for sharing this.

There Are No Words....

2009-04-13T12:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes my non-blogger friends and family do not get why I blog or how I can form these friendships with bloggers and bring them up in everyday conversation like I have known them for years. And my answer is this: I found blogging when I was starting over in life. I'd left a very bad marriage that did not allow me to form relationships with other people and moved to a city where I had only two "real" friends. I started a blog because I wanted to make a connection with people like me and since I've always been better at expressing myself in written words rather than spoken words, I felt extremely comfortable.

Blogging has allowed me to deal quite publicly with divorce, an abusive relationship, health problems, my beloved Nana's cancer and death, and my own infertility issues. It has given me a place to write about finding the love of my life, planning our wedding, our crazy dog children, pregnancy, and what it's like being a mom to Zoe and Finnegan.

I'm not a popular blogger. But I feel very, very lucky to have formed friendships with some amazing women - like Jen... who I "met" when we were each planning our June 2005 weddings and who was one of my pregnancy buddies last year.

And Nanette. Who I still have not met in person, GAH! but I just adore. She was so thoughtful when I was going through Nana's death and I will never forget that.

And Geekmom - who used to go by a different name, but sent me this gorgeous pendant for me to wear to keep me calm during my wedding week. I cherish it still and am so glad I found her again.

And Sizzle - her words have cheered me when I have been down on myself as a woman and a mother. She is an excellent person to have in your corner.

And many more, but today all I can really think about is Shana.

I think I found her through Sizzle and I am so grateful for that because finding her meant I had another pregnancy buddy to talk to, even if I didn't find her until we were both almost done carrying our boys. We had so much in common - like, say, the conception date! and of course, our due dates.... but also we both knew our boys would be delivered via c-section and we spent many days counting down to the dates we had chosen. Her precious Thalon was born just over a week before Finnegan and I checked daily for updates on how she was doing. And then I sort of fell off the radar because being a mom to a toddler and a new baby isn't so easy. My heart broke this morning when I read about Thalon. I am at a complete loss for what to say because I know that nothing I say will make this better... but my prayers are with Shana and her family right now.

Here's proof that the blog world really is amazing: Go to Whoorl's site and help Shana's family with hospital and funeral expenses by using donation link at the bottom of her post. Please keep Shana and her family in your thoughts and prayers and donate if you can.

Just HAD to share

2009-04-08T23:19:00.000-07:00

She is my light, my inspiration, my joy, and my amazingly beautiful little girl. I simply cannot believe how quickly she has become a little girl since we brought her home almost two years ago.

See the individual pics HERE.

Confessions from a mother of two

2009-03-25T14:54:00.000-07:00

In a matter of days, Finnegan will be three months old. That is so crazy for me to even imagine. In some ways it feels like he has been a part of our family for years, like his place is with me and Daniel and his sister. Like there was always this place carved out for him with us and he is exactly where he is supposed to be. And sometimes I look at him and how much he has grown and how interactive he has become and I ask him how this is even possible because we just brought him home! He is supposed to be little and delicate, but he isn't. He is my big, strong, three month old with a killer smile, flirty eyes, quick temper and lively personality.

Things weren't easy at first. For the first few weeks that Finnegan was home, I cried every single day. I cried when Zoe cried and when Finnegan cried. I cried when I was away from Zoe. I cried when I needed a break. I cried because of television shows and movies. I cried because we had ants in the house. I cried because I was exhausted and felt weak from the surgery. I cried because my hormones were completely out of whack and I had this overwhelming sense of sadness and inadequacy at least once a day. It hurt my heart to feel that sadness when I have such an amazing husband and two beautiful children who I wanted with all my heart and whom I adore with every sense of my being.

And I was ashamed. Ashamed that I was feeling so down and sorry for myself when I had everything I had ever wanted and more. Ashamed that I wasn't stronger. Ashamed that I was not the perfect housewife and partner for Daniel. Ashamed that I was never going to be that mom who had everything in control and did everything right. Ashamed that I was failing to live up to my over the top expectations. Ashamed that I only really shared any of this with Daniel, so I was a phony to all my friends who thought everything was perfect and that I was just not around because I was tired, not secretly avoiding contact with everyone. Ashamed that I would burst into tears out of the blue and couldn't pinpoint what exactly I was crying about. I thought I was going crazy.

And as those days passed, each day would get better and then all of a sudden I would feel fabulous, and then I might slip into a feeling of hopelessness the next day. A few things would snap me out of my funk -

Daniel - When he'd come home from work and he'd give me these long, strong hugs that made me feel so supported and he assured me that everything would be OK.
Zoe - When she would come sit next to me and Finnegan and put her little arm around me and reach to pat her brother's head.
Finnegan - When he would settle in my arms and just look at me with this peace like he was so secure with where he was, with me.

And each day I felt sad less. And things got easier.

That's not to say that things are easy now. It was silly of me to think that adding a second child to our family would be easier than the first. I thought I knew it all. I mean, not really... but sort of. I knew how to hold, change, feed and bathe a newborn. I knew how to rock a baby to sleep, how to burp them and to ALWAYS be prepared with a burp cloth or accept the consequences. I knew that I loved Finn from the moment I learned he even existed. I could not ever have imagined that after he would arrive I would feel so out of sorts.

At first I felt guilty - like I'd let Zoe down and that she was never going to feel as loved as she had before Finnegan was born. That first time she came to the hospital to meet Finn she had been so timid and curious about the baby I was holding in my arms. She got closer for a look and he wailed like newborns do. She burst into sobs and reached out for me to hold her, but I couldn't because I had Finn and an IV and I was weak. And that look on her face when I couldn't take her broke my heart and I cried with her. Even though she had completely forgotten that drama five minutes after it had passed, I carried that sadness with me for weeks. At that moment I realized how hard this was all going to be - having a toddler who was so independent, but still very much my little baby, and a newborn who depended on me to give him everything he needed. I felt sad that as much as I wanted to give them each 110% of myself, I didn't have that much to offer and I had no idea how I would divide my time. When you have two little ones crying how do you choose which one to comfort?!

The answer is, you choose both - just maybe not at the same time. In the last few months I've had to learn that sometimes, one of them is going to have to cry while the other is seen to. I've learned to assess their cries. Is one just crying because the other is? Is one in danger or pain? If both are just crying because they are cranky, tired, or hungry, which can be comforted the quickest so I can get to the other? I'm learning that while these little ones share some similarities, they are very much their own little person's. They have different personalities and temperament. They have their own ways of wanting to be held and soothed. Finn is not Zoe 2.0, he is Finnegan 1.0 and I'm learning that as in sync as I am with him, I don't know him as well as I know Zoe - yet.

But every day I know him even better than the last. Every day I feel stronger and more confident than I felt in those first weeks. Every day I am further from that sadness and able to enjoy every crazy, beautiful, hilarious, exhausting, and enriching moment more. I am a happy mother and wife... so happy that anything - even more children WAAAY down the road, seems possible and exciting. Maybe.

This afternoon, Finnegan was having one of his fussy moments. He was bursting into tears every time I walked away from him because he wanted me in his line of sight; wanted me to hold him every second. After going back and forth for almost an hour, I went to him and gently put my hand on his heaving chest. "I am here for you, Finnegan. Even when I am five feet away, in the next room, or whatever, I am here. Be calm." And I swear to you, he looked at me with such concentration and consideration the entire time I spoke, then he sighed quite seriously, and flashed me the biggest grin I'd ever seen him give.

Every day we are learning and understanding each other more.

FIVE

2009-03-21T00:01:00.000-07:00

She was our first kid. We brought her into our tiny little apartment five years ago this week. Back then we thought getting a puppy would add even more joy to our lives - we were right. Turns out, Bailey was our test run with having someone depend on us as a couple, working together. There were some hiccups: accidents in the house, CD's were eaten, books shredded, her face puffed up after being stung by a bee, etc. But she was the ingredient that helped us grow from a couple to a family as soon as we took her home.

Now we live in a house with a big backyard for her to share with her pug brother, Max. She's now one of four... with two younger human siblings. But Bailey will always be our little, neurotic, "Stinkbutt". At five years old - her birthday was January 3rd - she's still very much a puppy in that troublemaker way.... and a very important member of our family.

Happy Anniversary, Bailey!

Show and Tell

2009-03-20T14:39:00.000-07:00

This is the bridesmaid dress that I will be wearing a week from this Saturday in my hometown, Palm Springs.

Well, Palm Desert, actually... but no one ever knows where I'm talking about unless I say "Palm Springs".

Daniel likes to make fun of me when I just say "the Desert". He says it sounds so ominous. "I grew up in the Desert." Like I lived off the land on my own and rode a camel or something.

Anyway. That was a tangent.

So, I had to give my measurements for this lovely dress when I was nine months pregnant because of the timing.

THIS:

just happens to be my ginormous "baby belly" the day* I placed the order.

Can I just say how ridiculous that was? Why does it have to take so long to have a dress made anyway? And how lame is it to have to give super big numbers that you know are going to change days after you give birth?! When I told the lady I was having a baby 13 days from when we talked and that my measurements were going to shrink considerably, she told me she doubted I would lose any of the weight by the end of March.... to which I said: fuckyouverymuch.

Fine. I totally didn't say that, but I was so hormonal that I really could have.

ANYWAY. I lost the weight and then some and this bad boy had to be taken in quite a bit. Yay, me. Well, yay breastfeeding... because I'm pretty sure that's how I lost it all. I'm by no means where I want to be weight wise, but I'm sort of ok with how I look in this thing.

* - How cool that I had the foresight to take a pic on that day so I could blog about it now?!

Conversations with Finn

2009-03-19T14:58:00.000-07:00

"Hey, Mama!"

Hi, Finnegan!

"Look at me lifting my head like a big boy!"

I know! You are such a big, strong boy!

"Pretty darn impressive, no?"

VERY! You impressive me every DARN day, Finnegan!

"I can haz milk now?"

Sure. Let me just get a couple more so I can show you off to Nana, Grammy, Baba, Grandpa Rick, and your MANY other adoring fans.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting?"

Not long at all, actually. Finn, you are a very well fed boy. Have you SEEN your cheeks?!

"Feed me now, woman!"

Now, now, son. There's no need to get cranky. You just ate an hour ago!

"The service here sucks."

Well, the patron sucks too! Badumbum!

"Seriously, this is the last one. Rrrright?"

Yes. For now. I love you, baby.

A Side By Side Comparison

2009-03-18T14:58:00.000-07:00

Zoe at eight months/Finn at almost three months - sleeping in Target shopping carts

1. Look how precious they were/are!
2. That cart cover was one of our best baby purchases, ever.
3. I must be boring to shop with.

Not Red...

2009-03-08T21:09:00.000-07:00

But definitely auburn.

Tuesday: Girl's Day

2009-03-05T07:37:00.000-08:00

Last Tuesday was Finnegan's first full day away from the house and me. Daniel and I carefully got him ready and loaded him up in his car seat. I loaded a bag with 20 diapers, 4 burp cloths, 3 changes of clothes and five bottles of my milk for his nine hour stay at Cheryl's*. And as we were securing him in his seat, I might have cried... just a little bit.

And then I went back to sleep for a while because Zoe is still my little sleepyhead who will sleep til 10am if I let her.

I took a shower and got ready - meaning, I actually put some lipstick on.

I got her up at nine.

We had breakfast together and watched some PBS Kids.

And then we got ready for the park because we were lucky enough to have a lovely, sunny day instead of this grey weather we've had since yesterday.

Zoe squealed with delight when I pulled into the parking lot of the park. The park is only two blocks from our house and I feel a little guilty for not just pushing her stroller, but I had big plans for our girls day. Lots of fun to be had!

Here she is counting. "1, 2, 3, 5, 7, NINE!"

She made a few friends at the park. Two of them were little boys, one a few months younger than she and the other a year older. They did not know what to make of this little thing who stood in their personal space staring at them intently, who then reached out to hug them once she decided she liked them... which took 30 seconds. They ran away from her and she followed sweetly, saying "Hi!" with her arms stretched out for a hug. She didn't get a hug, but if this picture is any indication, someday boys are going to feel honored that she is even acknowledging their presence.

After the park, we went home for a quick pumping session, water, and diaper change and then we were on the road again.

We had a quick lunch on the go and then we were off to the mall for some shopping. First we bought her a cute little sunhat that she wore proudly for the rest of the afternoon. Then we went dress shopping. Here she is waiting for our dressing room:

When we got into our dressing room she danced and ran around. She held tightly onto the dress she was going to try on saying, "CUTE!" She loved looking at herself in the mirror and laughed and squealed. Since this was the first time I'd attempted taking her in a dressing room and actually trying stuff on her, I had no idea what to expect... but it was so much fun I wish I'd grabbed more than just one thing for her to try on:

The brown dress is a hand me down... she wouldn't let me take it off her completely. The dress on top is old navy - where we are trying it on. The hat we had just purchased at Gymboree. Somehow it all works, I think. Must be the cute little lady wearing it!

After the mall we headed back home for a quick nap and then we went to pick up Finn** and have dinner with Cheryl while Daniel worked a little later than normal.

"Girl's Day" is going to be a weekly thing for me and Zoe. It gives us time together, just the two of us, where I can just focus on her and her needs. I realized as we were playing at the park and laughing in the dressing room that we hadn't really had a day like this before. Sure, I'd taken her to the park before and we've spent plenty of days alone... but I'd been pregnant. We found out we were expecting a month before her 1st birthday, before she was walking and so independent. For the next nine months I chased and attempted to contain a very active little girl when I myself had no energy and felt sick all the time. Now that Finn is sleeping better and I'm adapting to being a mother of two, I have more energy to be the kind of mom I want to be for her and Finn.

* - I totally over packed!
** - Zoe never once asked where her baby brother was!

Career Options #1

2009-02-27T11:26:00.000-08:00

Performance Artist

So, I decided to get the crayons out for Zoe again since she grabbed a pen and paper off the table and obviously wanted to draw. When I asked her if she wanted crayons, she quickly responded "Please!" instead of doing her usual when she's got something she shouldn't: Running like a bat out of hell.

Up she went in the highchair. I took a sharpie and wrote her name in block letters. I drew a cartoon of a cat, flowers, numbers. Basically it was my quick answer to a page from a coloring book. She went with it. She carefully chose her colors. Red. Blue. Purple. Green.

She was partial to the blue.

I left her alone for a second.

OK. Maybe 30 seconds.

She ate 1/2 of the blue crayon.

Well, maybe just a 1/4 of it because a good amount came spilling out of her blue stained mouth when I exclaimed, "Oh, NOOOOOO! What did you doooooo?!" (In slow motion, of course.)

And she laughed and said "Blue!"

Great. At least I'm teaching her colors.

As I cleaned up her face and took away the other crayons I grumbled that at least now I wouldn't have to make her lunch.*

I stepped away from her to throw chunks of chewed blue crayon away. I washed my hands to prevent Finnegan from becoming Baby Smurf.

And then she started SHREDDING the paper she had drawn on. And I should add that as she shredded the paper, she laughed - like a little maniac having THE time of her LIFE.

See? Performance artist.

Tonight I will be on the look out for her encore: BLUE POOP.

* - OF COURSE I am only kidding. Zoe is a very well fed little girl.

Oh, and not to be one to be left out of the fun, Finn spent the entire time Zoe colored and *whatnot* smiling and laughing and flirting while I "wore" him. As Zoe was sitting in her highchair contemplating why we don't eat crayons (not really, well she was in her highchair but you know what I mean) I blogged the above entry. And then (just as I was about to hit publish) I noticed some "rumble down below" and almost instantly, my shirt and pants were wet from Finn's explosive diaper. No warning - just KABOOM!

I can't make this shit up. Clearly, you need a sense of humor to be a mother.

Grace in Small Things

2009-02-26T17:18:00.000-08:00

When I signed up for GIST, I thought it would be the perfect thing for me. I thought it would keep me grounded, positive and appreciative for all the amazing things going on in my life and I looked forward to reading everyone else’s lists. But somewhere between giving birth to my son on December 31st of 2008 and now, I lost my zest for blogging. Slowly, I’m trying to get back into it because I’ve been missing the release that writing gives me, and the connections with other bloggers. Also, I’ve been seriously lax in my letters to Zoe.

So, I haven’t quite figured out what my participation level in GIST will be, but I thought I’d start by jotting down some things I am grateful for as they relate to having a newborn AND a toddler.

Here Goes:

1. Halo Sleep sacks with swaddler… a swaddled baby is a sleeping baby. Yay!
2. Soothies. Sometimes a breastfeeding mama needs a break.
3. Easy latching. It wasn’t easy the first time, at all.
4. Finn is a great eater. My boy likes his food and is gaining weight.
5. Slumber parties. We get the kids ready and watch a movie in bed with Zoe at night. It's down time for the four of us.
6. Hearing Zoe say “It’s ok, baby boy.” when Finn cries. It melts my heart.
7. Fresh & Easy. This store made fast, healthy meals possible when shopping & cooking meals seemed absolutely impossible.
8. The park. Perfect for wearing out a busy little girl and fun to see her so happy running and playing.
9. Grandparents coming to visit and help.
10. Friends to do the same and laugh with.
11. Facebook, Twitter & Flickr. They’ve made me still feel connected even when I spend most of my time with my kids.
12. Fitting in jeans I haven’t been able to fit in for 4 years.
13. Coffee and chocolate.
14. A good, supportive nursing bra.

And this especially is no “small thing”:

15. A supportive husband who is truly a partner in this parenting gig and who keeps me sane and laughing.

You know what bugs?

2009-02-24T15:39:00.000-08:00

I'll tell you:

- People who don't return their shopping carts to the shopping cart corral. Really? Is it that long of a walk? Do you feel good about taking up a parking spot that someone (maybe me) might want/need to park in? If you're too lazy or too busy to take the cart back, why not offer it to someone just getting out of the car? I know when I've got my toddler AND my newborn in tow and it's just me, I sure would appreciate someone offering me their cart.

- And while we're talking about parking lots.... What gives with these HUGE vehicles and their bad parking? You don't need two spaces. You certainly do not need to park diagonally across two spaces. That is just plain inconsiderate. Learn to park, get a smaller vehicle, or learn to drive, whatever applies. And hey, if you have such a large vehicle that you do not fit in a space, consider parking further back in the parking lot where it's less crowded. Just a thought.

- Smokers. I'm sorry. I've gotten incredibly impatient with smokers, especially since I quit (about 5 years ago) but even then. Don't blow smoke in my face. Don't you dare blow smoke in my kids face. Be considerate (are we seeing a pattern?). I do not begrudge your habit - I totally understand it! But if you smoke, please don't expect me and my kids to smoke with you. Please, step away from the entrance to public buildings. My favorite is the nurses who smoke in front of my doctor's office/the hospital. WTF? Really? And just so you know, being examined my a nurse who wreaks of tobacco is so not cool.

- And while I'm ranting about smoking: I do not get parents who smoke right next to their little babies. Their poor little lungs! It makes me sad.

- Also, parents who call their kids stupid, dumb, etc. I've seen mothers call their 6 month old babies idiots and while I'm a very passive person, I get the urge to smack the back of their heads so I can knock some sense into them. Sometimes being a parent is frustrating. Sometimes our kids do silly things that drive us crazy. But who actually thinks that talking to their kids that way will change anything? Do they feel good doing it? Because it hurts my heart to think about those kids and their self esteem. It worries me that if a mother can call her infant an idiot, how will she treat her toddler, preteen, teen? And then what type of person will that kid grow into? Sad.

- There is STILL a fake Christmas tree (sans decorations) standing in my living room. The tree is so large, (even when it's broken in thirds) we can't find a box for it. It's the end of February! Waah!

- Pumping. I hate it. Love that I'm feeding Finn and getting him all the nutrients he needs/Hate that I have to pump.

- When people do not use their words. If I'm in your way at Target or the grocery store, use your words. Say "Excuse me." If you can't use your words for some medical reason, clear your throat for goodness sakes! Please, don't assume I will notice you standing there staring at me like I'm the most inconsiderate person in the world for being in your way. I'm not going to notice you in a timely manner because I have a toddler, a newborn, and about 50 billion things going on in my head at once. Sorry.

- And another thing about shopping: Why do I need to completely stop what I'm doing when I'm in the aisle you want to be in? Today I was trying to figure out what cup to get for Zoe at Target and this lady uses her words (thanks for that, lady) and says "Excuse me." Turns out, she wants to be exactly where I was and just expected me to move. The aisles aren't that big. Two carts barely fit. If someone is looking at something you want to look at, come back later. Why would your browsing/purchase be so much more important than mine? If it's a life or death situation and you simply must get that sippy cup right that very moment, you better tell me because otherwise you're just going to have to wait.

- And don't you dare use your cart to bump me. Who does that? What kind of manners were you taught? This is not bumper carts! Also, what are you thinking? Not that this is the only reason you shouldn't push me, but I'm not a skinny little waif thing. What makes you think I'm not going to push you back?

- Those families of five who walk in a straight line through parking lots or stores like they're "The Rockettes". Really? Single file line, people! I want to be able to drive my vehicle or not have to squeeze between you and your family. Normally, these people who walk in lines like this will not back down/step aside for other people. It's like some weird form of "Red Rover" while shopping and I hate it.

- I'm also not a fan of parents letting their kids run through parking lots. Do they not want their kids anymore? Is holding their hands too much effort? Is everyone but them responsible for their children's safety? Oh, OK.

- There is no good, fast, Mexican food place near our house. I'm not talking fast food, just a place with take-out. I got all excited when I saw Ole Boys in the center near our house... turns out, it was not Olé Boys, it's OLE Boys (think Dukes of Hazzard). They sell guns, not burritos. FAIL.

I think that about covers it for today.

What bugs you?

Dearest Finnegan,

2009-02-13T14:19:00.000-08:00

Forty-six days ago we were spending our last day as a family of three. We were anticipating your arrival with a lot of excitement and some nervousness. Daddy was dropping Bailey and Max off at the doggie hotel and Mama was taking the last shots of her pregnant belly so she could document one last time just how big she’d gotten.

Mama and Daddy got ready and we took your big sister to your Cheryl and Chuck-Chuck’s where she would stay the night before you were born and until Nana and Baba could arrive. And then we went out for a quiet dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. We had some appetizer that I can’t remember now and I had the Tequila Lime Chicken Fettuccine. You must have liked the food, because you kicked a lot and Mama had lots of Braxton Hicks contractions. Mama had so many that Daddy got out his pen and paper and logged each contraction and we laughed because wouldn’t that be funny if you decided to come out on your own after all!

But the contractions subsided and we went home to our empty, quiet house and made our final preparations for your arrival. We cleaned. I obsessed over my “things to do” and “what to pack” lists. We loaded our car and I might have tried cleaning my closet because that’s what Mama does when she’s anxious and trying to straighten up around the house.

I do not know what time we finally fell asleep the night before you were born, but I do know we were up at 4:00 am so we could be at the hospital by 5:30. I took a shower and tried to relax even though I was so nervous. Your Daddy ate breakfast and I fretted over whether or not I could go ahead and just take a couple sips of water even though I was told no food or drink after 11pm the night before. I was starving and parched and my twitter/blog friends told me to drink some water but I didn’t because I didn’t want to not follow directions. So I just complained about it for a while and that was good because it gave me something else to focus on.

We got to the hospital right on time and it seemed quiet enough, except apparently the maternity ward had been busy and we wouldn’t be getting a private room. And when we gave our name like we were checking into a hotel instead of a hospital, I remember seeing worry on the nurse’s face. The doctor’s office had failed to send in my paperwork or history – your Mama remained calm even though she wanted to freak out. Everything worked out though and a nurse led us to a small triage room so I could be prepped for surgery.

The room had a small sofa and a bed in it, with room for another bed if need be. There was a bathroom, but no television – which was fine because your Daddy and I were too anxious to watch anything. I got into my hospital gown and sat up in the bed while my blood pressure was checked and a nurse asked me questions. And then another nurse came in to start my IV, but she couldn’t find a vein so she tried again, and again, and then I calmly suggested someone else give it a go. You see your Mama has little veins that like to hide when the needles come out. Usually we counteract that by drinking tons of water and fattening them up, but I hadn’t had fluids in seven hours and my veins weren’t having it. So another nurse tried and then another. Mama cried a little and hyperventilated and might have almost fainted. The oxygen was brought out. And then we tried again… with another nurse. I asked for water and they declined and I was sure they were going to tell me you would not get to come out today and I might have cried some more. And then they brought in the “big guns” – our anesthesiologist. After almost an hour, four nurses and seven stabs, our lovely anesthesiologist got the IV in on his first try and I might have heard angels singing at that moment.

And then the nurse who would be taking care of us for the rest of the prep, the surgery, and after walked in and I almost cried again. Yes, Mama was very emotional and the adrenaline was high from all the needle poking, but it was more than that. The nurse who would be “holding my hand” for the rest of our journey was the same nurse I had asked to leave me alone after Zoe was born. She’d been condescending and rude before and when I finally couldn’t take it anymore, I’d requested a new nurse… and now here she was. I took a deep breath and braced myself for confrontation and rudeness, but it turns out her bedside manner had improved greatly and she didn’t seem to remember me at all – thank goodness.

So Dr. Y came in to say hello and the prep continued and we were all shiny and happy and YAY! A baby is coming out today! Daddy got changed into his scrubs and they wheeled me out as he followed close behind. I might have cried some more and your Daddy told me how much he loved me, and that everything was going to be ok and that soon we were going to get to see you, our son. So, off we went into the operating room for even more prep while he and Dr. Y stood in the hall waiting.

And they waited for a while. While the anesthesiologist was able to get the IV on his first try, the spinal block did not go as smoothly. I sat up on the gurney, holding the nurse’s hands, forehead on her chest trying to take deep breaths and relax while a needle was inserted into my spine. I could feel it grinding and tapping and pushing. Tears were in my eyes and I remember the doc telling me to relax. I turned my head to the right to take another deep breath and he and the nurse both quickly and firmly told me to keep absolutely still. He tried three times before he got it in and by that time I was so tired and frustrated I thought I would pass out just from that.

And then your Daddy came in and our nurse led him to me. . I remember whispering to him that I was “never doing this again.” He kissed me on my cheek or my forehead - I can’t remember – and then there was a hustle while the nurse tried to get him to sit down and then he FELL on the floor and knocked against some equipment. And your Mama completely forgot for an instant that she was about to be operated on because all she could think was “Great. Poor Daniel has passed out!” But Daddy was fine, just slightly embarrassed and worried he’d done something to the equipment – but he hadn’t. There was some discussion about how to best get a picture of you once you were out – our nurse was very concerned that your Daddy was ready with the camera.

And then there was a lot of waiting. I could feel what thought was my body falling asleep. I remember thinking, “What in the world is taking them so long!” And so I asked them, “Are you going to start soon?” And the anesthesiologist said, “Honey, we’re almost done!”

And they really were, because moments later they were telling me you were out and you were a boy – which we knew - and I was waiting to hear your cry - which took a minute because you had some fluid in your lungs – but when you did, it was loud and strong.

And I guess you peed on Dr. Y right away, which is kind of funny.

And then very quickly he held you up over the makeshift wall so we could get a look at you, but it was so sudden it was like you were jumping out at us and it was kind of shocking for Mama, Daddy and you too, I think… but your Daddy did get a picture just like the nurse told him to get - I'm just not going to post it here in consideration of the squeamish.

And then they cleaned you up a bit and swaddled you and brought you to me for a moment and I got to get a good look at you before you all left and they finished my surgery.

I fell in love instantly and thought to myself, it might take a while before I’m ready… but I would definitely do this all again.

And that is your birth story*, sweet Finnegan! It’s taken me 46 days to sit down and write it, but I’m pretty proud that I’m able to remember so much. Your sister’s birth is such a blur to me because of all the various pain medications, but I remember so much of your birth so vividly. I am grateful for that.

For months I was “sure” you would come early and on your own because I just “had this feeling.” What I realize now was it was more of a hope. I wanted to get to experience my water breaking and some real contractions so I could feel like I’d worked for you. I wanted to feel some of what a mother feels when she has a child naturally. I think I’d had it in my head that I was less of a woman or a mother because I’d had such an easy c-section and recuperation with your sister. It almost felt like I was cheating, taking the easy route. What I can tell you is, I worked for you. I had to be strong for you. Abdominal surgery is not the easy route.

But it was and continues to be worth it, my darling boy. I love you so very much. Welcome to the world and our family – it feels like you were meant to be with us.

* - The hours and days following went by in slow motion and warped speed. Maybe someday I'll write about those moments as well.

Still Here

2009-02-12T21:32:00.000-08:00

See all the Finn pics HERE.

Watch me and the kids here:

Zoe is saying hello to Torrie's daughter, Willa after seeing her on flickr this morning. She says "Hi, Willa." and then again - but I thought she was just pointing at the baby. Sometimes it's not so easy to understand "toddler speak" right away.

If it weren't for photobooth, I'd have very few pics with my kids.

2009-01-28T17:35:00.000-08:00

It was just me and the little guy today. We hung out, we ran some errands and went shopping. He was an angel. Today he is 4 weeks old. I cannot believe how much he has already changed and grown... how well he holds his head up; how he seems to win at every staring contest. He's such a joy, even at 3 a.m feedings. :) We did the photobooth thing this afternoon while we were waiting for Daniel to get home with Zoe. I call this time our calm time... before the house is filled with Zoe's squeals, laughter and chatter. I love the house when we're all in it, but I'm making it a point to cherish these moments as well.

Lovely Day

2009-01-27T15:05:00.000-08:00

Today...

I took a long hot shower while my kids slept in.

I got my camera out for the second time in two days so that I could photograph Zoe holding her little brother for the first time. Zoe was thrilled to be given the opportunity to hold him in her arms and Finnegan was surprisingly comfortable with his big sister. It was a great moment for me. I had to practically pry Finn from Zoe's arms when the hugging got just a little out of control.

I watched Annie for the billionth time with Zoe while I held Finn in one arm and edited photos with the other. Being a mother of two has taught me the real meaning of multi-tasking.

I juggled both children with ease.

I read to Zoe while I held her brother in my arms.

I was able to set Finn down in his swing for an hour and go help Zoe put her pink tutu on so we could dance together in her room while bad pop music played on her Hello Kitty boom box. We also had a mini photo shoot just the two of us where she hammed it up for my camera. It was girl time and one of my favorite memories of being Zoe's mom, so far.

I looked into my son's eyes and he *really* looked in mine, and I told him how happy I was that he was here with us right now. I cannot imagine life without him in it.

I sang to my kids: silly songs, love songs, show tunes - Zoe loved it (and sang along) and I think the little guy was amused.

I put them both down for their naps (at the same time!) and took the time to sit here and write this. It feels good to make time for me... if time allows, I'll edit some photos before they wake up.

I thought briefly about where I was 7 years ago today: In San Diego, leaving a bad marriage. In years past I've always let today bring me down, reflecting on how horrible life was then - but after spending such a lovely day with my children all I can do is be grateful for how far I've come and that I was led to Bakersfield, to Daniel, to becoming a mother and appreciating these precious moments.

I look forward to more days like today. This is where I am supposed to be, what I am supposed to be doing. This is the day I will remember when the three of us are having a more stressful day, when the house is a mess, when Finn refuses to sleep and Zoe throws a tantrum. I live for days like this.*

* - That's an Edie Brickell & the New Bohemians reference, just so you know.

Hello!

2009-01-26T14:06:00.000-08:00

It's been a while, huh? Yes. I know. I've been busy figuring out how to juggle a toddler and a newborn, healing from my c-section, and trying to sleep whenever possible. Life is hectic these days, but I could not even imagine it without this little man:

I'll be back to regular blogging as soon as I get over being so annoyed with the process of typing one-handed.

Finnegan

2009-01-01T03:17:00.001-08:00

Finnegan
Originally uploaded by KeelyE

Born 12/31/08 at 8:25am
7 pounds 13 ounces - 8 ounces less than Zoe
19 and 3/4 inches - 3/4 of an inch more than Zoe

He's the most perfect baby boy I have ever seen... and we're particularly fond of calling him "Captain Finn".

More to come later. Happy New Year!

Daniel is 30!*

2008-12-30T09:36:00.000-08:00

In honor of my husband's 30th birthday, I thought I would share with you 30 things I love/admire about him. This list was easy and difficult to write all at once because their are so many great things about him - it's hard to narrow it all down. But here is a Brief Glimpse into Daniel:

He's hot. Have you not seen his eyes or his fabulous smile? Either of them melt me, but combined I am a puppy dog. They're what caught my eye years ago - it was all the rest that intrigued me...
His sense of humor. While it's quite possible that no one besides Zoe and I think he's hilarious... he makes me laugh like no one else can and so I consider him the funniest person I know.
His optimism. Invariably, when a situation arises Daniel chooses to see the lessons learned, the opportunities available and the light at the end of the tunnel. He is my light, and when he says everything is going to be OK, I believe him.
His intelligence. Whether it's his aptitude for languages, his knowledge of politics and current affairs, or his uncanny ability to quote movies verbatim - I have always loved my husband's mind.
He's a great writer. I can get lost in the words that Daniel writes. Adventure, intrigue, science fiction, fantasy, comedy - he draws you into the worlds and characters he creates.
He's a talented actor. Although he never actually acted until he moved to Bakersfield, he has a natural ability to connect to his characters and fellow actors on stage and he is a pleasure to work with because of his commitment to his roles and the shows he chooses to do.
He's thoughtful. This one seems so self explanatory, but let me give you some examples: When I was really sick a few years ago, he ordered plays for us to watch from home since I was too sick to go out. When we were first dating and I told him about how my grandfather used to take me to old Japanese films, he gifted me a Rashomon DVD. When he sees I'm completely exhausted, he takes over with Zoe and sends me to our room so I can rest. He's mindful of what I need to make me happy or feel better and he makes sure I am too.
He's charitable/giving. Daniel is the guy who cannot turn away helping people. Be it someone on the street who needs spare change or someone he's only barely met (ME) whom he lends enough money to pay for a semester of community college and books. Where he sees potential and/or need he helps if he can.
He's hard working. Whether it's a theatre production, his day job, his writing or changing a really horrible diaper, Daniel juggles it all and I am so proud of him.
He's well read. I tease Daniel about our vast book collection that spans three rooms and 10 bookcases, but I adore the fact that he enjoys books so much and that he exposes me to them. Some of my favorite moments are of him reading Terry Pratchett or Hitchhikers Guide to me.
He's open minded about just about everything. He's taught me to hear both sides and not necessarily come to a conclusion condemning the other side, but to try to understand it instead.
He's always seeking more knowledge through newspaper articles, books, language courses, people, etc. Because of this, he is a great conversationalist.
He's not afraid to be different and he embraces/admires people who do likewise.
He's creative. Whether it's creative problem solving, coming up with something to do, or making up funny songs to sing to me and Zoe - Daniel's creative mind is always turning and makes my life more colorful and enjoyable.
His language skills. In college he took Japanese and Chinese and studied abroad for both. He has shelves of language books and tapes in Norwegian, French, Vietnamese, etc. He tells this silly little joke about a panda in Chinese - it's always a crowd pleaser.
His laugh. Nothing makes me happier than hearing him laugh, except maybe hearing him and our daughter laugh together. It's infectious.
His dancing skills. He might not be Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly, but he loves to dance and he's fun to watch when he does.
His voice. It's been a while since I've requested this since we're always so tired by the time we get into bed, but Daniel used to give me these mini concerts once we were in bed and trying to fall asleep. Wonderful moments that I will cherish always. His singing voice has resonance and his speaking voice gives me chills of familiarity and warmth of comfort whenever I hear it - especially after a long day.
His passion for teaching/informing. When Daniel and I first started dating, he was constantly drawing graphs and diagrams for me to explain what he did at work on a daily basis. I loved it because my talents lie in the creative/linguistic areas not the mathematical or scientific, but he still saw me as someone who had the aptitude to understand. I couldn't explain what he did to you, but he was able to give me a sense of understanding. He does this whenever the opportunity arises, whether it's helping someone with their Chinese pronunciation or explaining how a program works - I think Daniel's other calling in life is teaching.
He isn't into football, baseball, basketball or hockey... but he does have an interest in fencing and martial arts.
He's patient - with me, our daughter, the crazy dog children, the rude neighbors across the street, etc. While I can be a little "spirited", he approaches stressful situations with ease and understanding that everyone responds to.
He's a true gentleman. I never thought I'd care that much if someone opened all my doors for me, pulled out my chair, led me into a room - but he does and it makes me feel special.
He's articulate. Daniel is comfortable talking one on one and to large groups of people. I admire that he doesn't get all tongue tied like I do and that he can be so entertaining. He's a natural speaker.
He's humble. I don't think Daniel fully realizes how amazing and capable he is - and if he does, he's certainly not smug or conceited about it.
He's never done drugs. I know that sounds a little odd, but it has always been very refreshing to me that my husband has never smoked pot or done any other drug despite being around people who did.
He's well travelled. Well, he's been to China, Japan and Belize... but this one time, he was left by a bus in Inner Mongolia. It's a crazy story that he tells with a great sense of humor... and how many people can say that? I look forward to less adventurous travels in the future.
He's a loyal friend who calls some very talented, thoughtful, good people his friends. "A man is known by the company he keeps." I had the pleasure of first meeting some of Daniel's oldest friends a few months into our relationship when he took me to Texas to meet his family. I knew I loved Daniel then, but seeing them all interact as we sat drinking beer and coffee, witnessing their mutual admiration and enjoyment of each other, and getting a glimpse into who they were as people made me love him even more.
His love for his family. I've been around people whose families yell and scream and there's always drama. That is not the type of family Daniel comes from and again, seeing him interact with his family in Texas made me love him even more than I did before we made our first trip out to San Antonio. Seeing him interact with my family and embrace them as his own - completely sealed the deal for me. He loves his family and it is clear that they all love him.
He's a wonderful father. There is no one else I would rather partner with in such an important life step as having children. Daniel is the kind of Dad I think kids dream of having and I know Zoe and Finn are as blessed to have him as I am.
The way he loves me. Really, there's nothing more to say for this one.

Happy Birthday, love. The world is a better place with you in it. Welcome to your thirties!*

* - Well, tomorrow is actually your birthday but we have this appointment that probably would have prevented me from writing and posting this on the actual day.

Top Ten of 2008:

2008-12-28T17:05:00.000-08:00

March 4th - My Dad getting a clean bill of health regarding his cancer. Best news ever.
April 19-27th - Taking Zoe to Texas for the first time so she could meet her aunt, great grandmothers, great aunts & uncle and see her Grammy & Grandpa. It was our 1st big family vacation!
May 1st - Getting an unexpected but welcome positive from a home pregnancy test and then having it confirmed the next day with a blood test.
May 25th - Seeing Zoe take her first steps - at her 1st birthday party in front of an audience of at least 20 people. What can I say, she's a performer.
June 25-29th - My cousins wedding which was a mini family reunion for my side of the family. Special highlights were introducing Zoe to some of my favorite people and dancing with Daniel & Zoe at the reception.
July 25th - Having a gender ultrasound and finding out we're having a son!
November 4th - Voting and then later finding out who our next President will be.
December 25th - While not planned, we celebrated our first Christmas just the three of us. I'm a firm believer in "the more, the merrier" but it was nice being our little family of 3....almost 4, well, 6 if you count the dog children.
This year we cooked more, ate healthier, laughed whole heartily and made time/took every opportunity to enjoy special moments as a family, a couple and as individuals.
It hasn't happened yet, but December 31st - The birth of our son/my husband's 30th birthday.

It was a great year! I'm looking forward to 2009 and all it has in store for us.

What are your top 10/highlights?

The 3 of Us

2008-12-24T13:26:00.000-08:00

This last Saturday we got the family up and ready so we could have a family/maternity photo shoot. You know, to sort of document this pregnancy even further and have some nice family photos of us when we were a family of three. One of our theatre friends (Danielle Radon) who in addition to be completely lovely, and a great actress and writer, is also a very talented photographer.

What I realized from our shoot is that I'm no longer quite as comfortable in front of the camera now that I spend so much behind it. I got over that quickly though between Danielle making me feel at ease with me just being natural and Daniel making me laugh. What is very, very clear from the photos (I think) is that there is a lot of love and laughter in our family and I fully expect this to grow exponentially with the arrival of our son.*

Anyway - let me quit with my words and show you some pictures!

You can see all the pics HERE:

*We're still set for 12/31... I've made absolutely no progress in the last five days but we're totally OK with that. My parents weren't able to make it because of the weather on the Grapevine (my mom is a wedding coordinator and can't risk missing a wedding she has this weekend) and Zoe's Cheryl and Chuck-Chuck are in Illinois until Saturday... so we're cool with waiting. Besides, this is giving us more time to relax and have some nice quality time just the three of us since Daniel is on vacation.

Alright. Now, I've got some Christmas Eve cuddling to do with my husband. Merry Christmas to all of you!

Cheers!

Randomness:

2008-12-22T16:57:00.000-08:00

1. I'm still pregnant. Remember when I said I thought Finn was going to come early? Well, I've changed my mind. I think he's so darn comfy in there it's a good thing we've scheduled the doc to get him out because I think he'd live in there forever if he could.

2. My toes are pretty, pedicured and blue! The last time I got a pedicure was at the very beginning of this pregnancy ~~10 years~~ 9 months ago, so I did not feel at all guilty for shelling out a little bit more for a "SPA pedicure". I'm partial to a pedicure where I get to sit in one of those fancy chairs and not have the entire salon talk about me to each other in their language or try to convince me that I really "need" my eyebrow done/legs waxed. Anyway, it was heaven except for the conversation:

"So, when is your baby due?"
"I'm having a c-section on New Years Eve."

15 minutes later....

"So, what are you doing New Years Eve?"
"I'm having a baby."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot. That's no fun... well, I'll drink some champagne for you."

Also, I narrowly escaped little baby feet on one big toe and "It's a boy!" on the other. It was going to be on the house, but no. Not my style - I politely declined.

3. I am CONSTANTLY hungry. Like, famished. Like, all I can think about is food. Even when I'm snacking on chips and salsa I'm trying to plan what I will devour next. That 5 pounds I lost last week? I think I might see it's return (and then some) when I get on the scale Wednesday.

4. My next check up is on Wednesday (Christmas Eve). Despite there being no real change last time, I am bracing myself for my doc to tell me to get to the hospital straight away. I think it's because I've accepted the 12/31 plan and fully expect something to alter the plan because that is life.

5. We might take Zoe to meet Santa tonight. It's still up in the air.

6. My parents still aren't here. They were supposed to come yesterday but my poor mom isn't feeling well. They were supposed to come today but she's still not 100% (let's face it mom, you're probably not quite 50% yet - but I love you.) and then there's that dreaded Grapevine that they have to drive over with threats of fog, snow, ice, wind (and lions and tigers and bears, oh my!). We're hoping they can get here safely tomorrow and that the extra day of rest will be just what my mom needed to feel better. I believe everything happens for a reason.

7. We are almost completely ready on the baby front. The changing table is stocked, baby swing built, laundry done and put away. I just need us to clean a bit more and then I need to rearrange the furniture and reorganize our massive book and DVD collections.... but then we are SO ready.

8. Fresh and Easy is my new favorite store. They really are fresh and easy!

9. Anyone in Bakersfield want to come help Daniel hang curtains in our bedroom? It requires some expertise, I think - and the ability to get on a ladder (which I'm not allowed to do right now - Waah!). The task looks complicated to me, and that may be why it hasn't gotten done despite my declaring it top priority as soon as we found out we were having another baby. Must. Block. Out. Sun.

10. I'm having pie for dessert tonight and I can't wait.

My love

2008-12-20T08:50:00.000-08:00

Last night around 11, Zoe woke up in tears. We hadn't turned her humidifier on (which seems to be a must have these days) and she was having a coughing fit and trouble breathing through her nose. Daniel was in her room first (he moves faster than I do now and I always try to hold back just a moment because my first inclination is to run to her when she cries and she knows this). I followed quickly and just in time to see her projectile spit up in her crib (hey, being a parent is glamorous). The two of us cleaned her up, kissed and hugged her, and told her everything was going to be OK. And then I took her into our room while Daniel cleaned up inside her crib a bit and filled the humidifier.

I rocked her in the new chair that we got to use for Finnegan (the wood glider we'd gotten when I was pregnant with Zoe just isn't comfortable). The chair has since become the family chair and my favorite place in the house to hold my fast growing daughter. She had barely woken up during the entire coughing episode so she was very quickly in a deep sleep against my chest, laying directly on top of my belly with her little brother pushing gently (and sometimes nudging strongly) against her. Soon, I felt all three of us relax into each other. Zoe's breaths became less forced and she was no longer snoring, but sighing sweetly in her sleep. I felt my breathing fall in line with her as I rocked her and watched her. And then within moments, Finn's stirring ceased and I felt him relax under the weight of his sister. It was one of the most peaceful moments I've had as a mother.

And in those precious minutes I realized without any reservation that I am good at this. I have my rough days, we have our rough days, but I can do this and I do it well. I'm a good mother to my daughter and I will be for my son. I worried at one time that it just wasn't possible for me to love anyone more than I love Zoe, but as the "three" of us sat there I knew that my love for my kids and for Daniel is incomparable, immeasurable, and vast.

13 Days or less to go!

2008-12-18T23:37:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd share my view:

I am HUGE! But I love it.

And I am so looking forward to meeting Finnegan. Such a wild ride this has been!

SIXTEEN

2008-12-17T15:51:00.000-08:00

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 16 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 16 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

I did this because I was tagged by some friends on Facebook and decided I might as well post it here too. I'm not tagging anyone here, but if you want to share I would love to read your answers.

Here's mine:

1. I have a blog, as well as Twitter, Flickr, Facebook, and Myspace accounts so I sort of feel like coming up with 16 things seems silly because I feel like I've shared so much already.

2. I'm such a sap that sometimes I hide behind my sarcasm/humor/complaining to cover up how nervous, worried or scared I am. I worry that this coping mechanism sometimes makes me sound like I don't love being a mother or that I'm not enjoying my pregnancy. I do and I am - honestly.

3. Becoming a mom is one of the best things I've ever done. We'll see how things go, but I could imagine us having one or two more after Finn. I might be making up for growing up as an only child (I have two half brothers who I barely lived with as a kid) but the idea of having a larger family is appealing. We'll see what happens.

4. I'm a better writer than a speaker unless you're someone I know so well that I'm able to let my guard down and still be articulate. I get tongue tied in person and so I tend to enjoy emails better than a phone conversation - or even talking in person.

5. I behave like a hormonal teenager sometimes. If possible, I can find the sexual innuendo in nearly everything and I always feel the need to be inappropriate and share it with Daniel to make him laugh. I think it might be one of the things he loves about me. :)

6. Daniel's and my sense of humor is often not appreciated by anyone other than us. We're convinced that this is just one of the many reasons we're together... we just "get" one another. He's the funniest guy I know. :)

7. I have an obsession with buying cookbooks and cooking magazines because I imagine how great it would be to cook everything in them, but I rarely recreate the recipes I drool over. I keep telling myself that once the kids are older and I have more time I'll cook more.

8. I am an obsessive list maker. I type them up in Google Documents and highlight what I complete as I do it. It makes me happier than it should.

9. If we're expecting guests for dinner, to visit (or say we're about to have a child) - the first thing I go to clean is our bedroom closet. Daniel thinks this is crazy because who is going to look in our closet?! But I don't care... that's where the cleaning always begins. I love my closet. I should post a picture.... but I haven't completely organized it yet.

10. Typing up this list is making me think I sound neurotic. I'm not, truly.... but our Boston Terrier (Bailey) is. Bailey is a freak - I am not. :)

11. When our kids are grown and in college I really want to buy a motor home (something like THIS) so Daniel and I can live in it and drive around the country focusing on each other, our writing and photography. I also want to spend at least a year abroad exploring the world and learning about other cultures. I fantasize about all the adventures we'll have in our old age.

12. My other big dream is to have a photography business. I'd love to shoot weddings, children's parties, events and theatre productions. I prefer documentary style photography and feel good when I'm connected to my camera.

13. I'm not a healthy person and sometimes I feel like a burden or a downer to the people in my life. Every time I get sick, I struggle with how I'm affecting Daniel and Zoe and our support system of people who help us so much. Sometimes I feel like I'm too much trouble and everyone has to put up with me and that I have no right wanting all these kids and having all these big plans because I can't do it on my own. Then I remember I don't have to do any of it on my own and I'm grateful.

14. I love the Muppets - especially Kermit and Miss Piggy... and Animal. And Gonzo. And ALL THE REST. They make me happy and remind me of my childhood.

15. I used to sell mattresses. It was one of the worst jobs I have ever had and I do not miss it one bit. The people I worked for were bad people and the customers were creepy. I can't even count how many men (and sometimes their wives too) asked me to test the beds out with them. It was gross.

16. I cannot look at clouds, fabric or even a blank or color washed wall without seeing faces and designs in them. Detailed things like animals, faces, fairies, dragons, etc. My eyes just see these images without working to create them. Is that weird?

FYI - Suddenly feeling like a strange one.

Also - Go on, distract me from my list making/things I need to get done. ;)

Pregnancy Update

2008-12-11T14:26:00.000-08:00

So, remember how I've been going on and on about Finnegan being evicted on December 29th? Scratch that. Turns out that despite us telling them a month ago that this was the date we'd chosen, they got their wires crossed and forgot to schedule it with the hospital. You know what that means? That means that a very hormonal and unreasonably emotional Keely nearly lost it in the car after our checkup. Because unlike most pregnant women, I had gotten to form a plan. I had everything worked out perfectly in my mind. We were going to spend a leisurely early morning with our first child on Monday, December 29th before dropping her off at her Cheryl's (and Chuck-Chuck's). The "plan" had been to be at the hospital at 10:30 am for prep and Finnegan would be making his debut via ~~extraction~~ c-section around noon-ish. We chose this day specifically based on multiple criteria that I had in my head.

1. I wanted to make sure we got to spend Christmas at home with Zoe and my parents who will be visiting for the week.
2. I wanted the latest possible day (has to be a weekday for "elective" surgery) that would be before the New Year, because HELLO, tax deduction/insurance deductible.
3. I wanted him to be born and spend the prerequisite time in recovery (a couple days) and have us all be back in our home with Zoe for New Years Eve (and Daniel's 30th birthday).
4. My gift to Daniel this year (aside from nurturing his son in my womb for the last nine months) was getting to have as close to a comfortable nights sleep as he could get - with a toddler, newborn and wife recovering from surgery - in his own bed on his birthday instead of on a tiny, uncomfortable cot in a tiny, uncomfortable recovery room.

But, stuff happens. Who was I to think that this pregnancy was going to go according to my plans? What pregnancy and/or delivery ever goes exactly the way we want it to? Geez. I had some nerve. You know what I did by counting on the 29th? I tempted fate and that was just plain silly.

So with that in mind, it would be completely ridiculous to count on my son adhering to the schedule we agreed to this afternoon:

We've been scheduled for a 7:30 am c-section on Wednesday, December 31st (Daniel's 30th birthday). We've been told that aside from the possibility of us getting pushed back because of other emergencies, that Finnegan will be born on the 31st. And to that I say: If you say so. But I'm not holding my breath.

I'm still on alert for this kid to take everything into his own hands and come when he's good and ready. I'm no further dilated or effaced than I was last week, but I've just completely abandoned my plans and given up on guarantees.

And Daniel is (of course) the reasonable one who is game for whatever happens. He's never been the "planner" in our family (thank goodness, there really can be only one). He says that his son being born on his birthday would be a great gift. He keeps reminding me that it's only 2 more days and I know he's right... I just need some time to adjust is all.

So everyone, be on alert. If today was any indication, the next 20 days are going to be a roller coaster ride of "crazy pregnant Keely". Brace yourselves, people. And we'll keep you posted. ;)

Entertaining Myself:

2008-12-10T14:35:00.000-08:00

Just make a guess, mmkay?

Here's some quick info to help you out a bit....

- Finn will be evicted via c-section on December ~~29th~~ 31st* at the latest**. So don't guess after that date!

- Zoe weighed 8 lbs, 5oz and was 19 inches.

- My due date is Jan. 4th, 2009.

- At my last appt. on 12/2 - I was 35 weeks and 2 days, but measured 37 weeks.

- At that same appt, I was 25% effaced and 1 cm dilated.

- I had three hours of false labor on 12/9...

- And... Zoe was induced and then arrived 2 days before her due date, but I had no false labor with her and was not dilated or effaced at 35 weeks...

*- Yes. That just changed.
** - I'm not holding my breath about any guarantees regarding this baby from here on out. So, whatever. ;)

My Little Elf x 5

2008-12-08T16:22:00.001-08:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

This video would not be possible had Jen not given me the heads up via twitter. I couldn't resist multiplying my little monkey by five too. Cute, funny and a little bit scary all at once, yes?

Hair Thursday

2008-12-04T12:15:00.000-08:00

Soon, life is about to get a whole lot MORE hectic and if I can manage to find a style that looks good without too much effort, that would be awesome. Who better to go to than the lovely and talented Whoorl?! She's featured me on Hair Thursday this week and it's perfect timing because I am just itching to do something with my hair. So, help a lady out, will ya? Go take a look at her suggestions, vote and give your opinion.

Thanks!

Four

2008-12-03T17:43:00.000-08:00

Four years ago tonight Daniel took me out on a fancy date. We ordered great food, delicious wine and had wonderful conversation. Somehow, we decided to pretend like we were on one of our first dates and asked those "getting to know you" questions you ask at the beginning of a relationship. Never mind that at that point we'd been together for nearly two years, had been living together for almost as long and had a "daughter", our Boston Terrier, Bailey. We still behaved like a couple of lovebirds, leaning close to each other, holding hands, asking each other what our goals and dreams were. And then in the most perfect moment, Daniel looked at me very seriously with eyes beaming and asked me if I would marry him. There was no hesitation, "Yes!" We stopped pretending like we were on one of our first dates and spent the rest of our time in the restaurant laughing and kissing and smiling from ear to ear.

It's amazing to think it's been so long - that so much has happened.

Happy Engagement Anniversary, Daniel!

Finn Progress

2008-12-03T10:57:00.000-08:00

I had my my prenatal check up yesterday afternoon and it looks like all those contractions I had on the way home from my parents house did *something*. Not much, (I'm 1 cm dilated and 25% effaced) but something is better than nothing in the grand scheme. At least I know all that pain was getting something accomplished, however a part of me says I'm having a c-section anyway so I wish my body could just relax. Whatever. :) The doc says he thinks I'll make it to December 29th.

Me: "Are you sure? I'd really like to stay on schedule"
Doc: "She likes to be in control, huh?"
Daniel: "She's a planner."

That might be the understatement of the year. What?

Zoe: Fashionista

2008-12-02T11:30:00.000-08:00

On the mornings that I wake up Zoe and get her ready for the day, we have a little ritual. I give her a hug, she says hello to Bailey and Max (and is more interested in them, by the way). Then I go to her closet and pull out a couple clothing options for her consideration. I sing, "What are we going to wear today?"* which is received with big smiles and this twisty, kicking, dance move she does when she's happy (she does a variation of this dance while in her high chair eating something she thinks is particularly yummy). And then she points to one of the outfits. It's our thing.

Zoe is a Grabby McGrabbersons. Like most kids at this age if she sees something within her reach (or even not quite in her reach) she wants to grab it. She wants to touch it. She wants to inspect it and see how it works (I think she might get this from her father). But when we take her to a store with clothing (like, Target) this behavior changes a bit. She's more careful with what she chooses to reach out for. When she does find something to grab onto, she carefully inspects the color and feels the fabric. When we browse "her section" she is even more absorbed. She tries to pull outfits into the cart. If I let her choose between two outfits she will look at each of them and then grab one with gusto, hug it to herself and say "Thank you." very quickly.

Despite her obvious interest and enjoyment in clothing and shopping, Daniel and I opted to do our Black Friday shopping without her. We went to the outlet center in Carlsbad while she still slept in her bed at my parents house because the only thing that's worse than a crowded shopping center at 7am is being at that crowded shopping center with a toddler when you're eight months pregnant. And before you ask why we went at all, let me just tell you: they have a Carters store there that almost always has great deals. On Friday, the entire store was 50% off and then another 10% got taken off if you purchased more than $50 worth. We were on a mission, Finnegan needs clothes! So we grabbed some cute stuff and picked out some stuff for Zoe too and we were on our way. Until I found out there's a Gymboree there as well and then I had to check them out. Nothing for Finn, but a few things for our fashion plate.

When we got to my parents house three hours later, Zoe was sitting happily in her highchair, watching cartoons and eating apple slices. She glanced at me, but was very interested (her eyebrow up inquisitively) in the two shopping bags I had lugged in. I sat down next to her and showed her our shopping spoils: A hot pink tutu ("Oooh!"), a red dress with kitties ("Meow!"), a dress for the holidays ("Cute!"), etc. Every "Zoe purchase" was received with some exclamation of approval and little happy dances as she shoved apple slices in her mouth. Then I showed her "baby brother's" stuff. It was a parade of blues, greens, and browns. Little onesies, pants, pajamas and socks were met with the most serious deadpan I've ever seen Zoe give. She was unimpressed. Where was her stuff at? She looked over her shoulder for a glimpse of the pink and purple and red clothes I had just shown her. I held out something for her to touch and she politely pushed it away and her sweet little voice said, "No."

So there you have it. My little girl loves clothes, but is unimpressed with boy clothing. Let's hope she's more impressed with the little one who will be wearing them.

* - In our house, we opt to sing simple questions, requests, etc. It's the theatre people in us (we like to pretend we're living one big musical - LOL) and it seems to be making Zoe quite musical as well, since she's always singing lately. We love it.

Thankful

2008-11-30T16:09:00.000-08:00

It's a little late, but this is a short list of things I am thankful for:

Having a husband who I can't wait to see every day. He's everything I thought I would never find in one person and such a blessing in my life.

My beautiful, funny little girl, Zoe. I knew I wanted to be a mom, but I feel like I hit the parental jackpot with her. Every day is a learning experience and an adventure.

A healthy/happy pregnancy. It's hard to believe that in twenty-nine days or less our little boy will be here.

The roof over our head.

Friends and family, near and far.

Supportive parents on both sides... who get along splendidly. I cannot stress enough how nice this is.

Having people nearby who we can depend on and who treat us like family and vice versa.

Good health.

Somewhat well behaved dogs.

Creative outlets like photography and blogging. They keep me sane.

Cocoa Krispies, jalapenos, cheddar cheese and pie. Not all at once though. Although, cheddar cheese on apple pie is awesome.

Back and foot rubs.

Date nights.

The Internet.

Lazy days around the house.

Flannel pajamas.

Funny movies.

Music.

Completing all 30 days of NaBloPoMo! It was touch and go a couple days there, but I had my second successful go at it thanks to a somewhat well behave toddler and a husband who made sure I got some time every day to write. I'm not so sure I'll be blogging quite as frequently in December since Finn will be making his appearance shortly, but I'll definitely check in and keep you posted.

Home

2008-11-29T21:14:00.000-08:00

Daniel and I loaded up the dog children and Zoe and got on the road at 1pm today. In years passed, we've always stayed until Sunday morning, but decided that we needed to try to avoid the traffic and make sure we had a day of rest before we got into the week and it's demands.

It turns out there was a decent amount of traffic today, so we spent a lot of our time at a snails pace. Zoe was restless and a little cranky - she had a hard time napping. I was feeling especially anxious when my contractions got more painful and frequent - I knew they were just Braxton Hicks, but they can be absolutely unnerving when stuck in traffic with no clear path in sight. Let's face it, I have an active imagination and it tends to imagine worst case scenarios.

Somewhere around Inglewood, traffic came to a complete standstill on the 405. The two left lanes were closed, and eventually only the far right was open. Everyone was merging at once, trying to get ahead. I rolled my window down and tried to get peoples attention, tried to make eye contact since they were ignoring our signal and I felt people ignore me as well. I could see the determination on their faces. It seemed like they were focused on their task, where their final destination was without considering for a second any other vehicle on the road or why we were all in this situation. Some people looked at me without seeing me, like they were looking straight through me, actually. I know this is freeway driving, but I was frustrated. How can we be just two days after Thanksgiving where we celebrate all that we are thankful for: our families, health, etc and so close to the other holidays that celebrate goodwill, love, and new beginnings, but we can't take a moment to consider that other people matter? As we drove by the fire trucks, police, mangled car, the stretcher with an accident victim and the two ambulances I felt myself tear up. Maybe it was my hormones, but it made me incredibly sad that we can be celebrating the holidays one day and facing danger the next. I worried for the person on the stretcher. I worried about their family and friends. I thought about how jammed up traffic had been and how it got worse by people worrying about their own agenda instead of allowing some give and take on the road.

That accident brought things further into perspective for me. I wanted so much to be home safely with my little family, relaxing - but even now as I sit here after a five hour drive... all I can think about is that accident and wonder if everyone will make it home safely from it.

I hope you all had a very Happy Thanksgiving and that the meaning of it and this season stay with you throughout the year.

The Day After

2008-11-28T18:50:00.000-08:00

7am shopping at an outlet = 50% baby clothes for Finn & Zoe
Lunch with Zoe, Daniel and my parents at Kings Fish House = some frustration that I couldn't eat the raw ahi poke.
Spending some time at a deserted park = Lots of crazy, running around time for our little monkey.
Turkey leftovers = Turkey tacos. YUM!
Busy Black Friday without crazy spending = Fullfillment, and exhaustion without a tapped out bank account.

We've had a lovely visit here. The last few days flew by.

Gobble Gobble

2008-11-27T12:50:00.000-08:00

I could be doing a real post right now, but that would take away time from the Thanksgiving Day Parade and the National Dog Show on television, the snacking, the playing with Zoe and the hanging out with my Dad and Daniel. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope you're all having a wonderful day with your friends and family.

Have Turkey, Will Travel

2008-11-26T20:39:00.000-08:00

Well, we're in San Diego! Daniel and I dragged ourselves out of bed at 5am, and Zoe at 5:30. We'd loaded up our car last night with everything we think we might possibly need over the next few days (and more). We were on the road by my goal of 6am and I was quite impressed with all of us. It was no small feat - normally it's hard for us to get on our way by 10. My family, we enjoy our sleep. So, we got to my parents house around 11:30am, ate lunch, and then the three of us (and the dog children) all laid down for a nap. Kind of makes me laugh that we rushed to get here only to nap, but like I said - we value sleep.

We also value turkey. Man, I cannot wait to gobble up dinner tomorrow! But for now, I'm going to ~~get myself~~ ask Daniel to get me some peach pie a la mode. Between the Braxton Hicks and my sciatic nerve, I SERIOUSLY deserve it.

Letter of the Day: D

2008-11-25T11:09:00.000-08:00

I saw this on Jen's blog and thought I'd join in the fun.

The rules: You leave a comment on this post, and I’ll assign you a letter. You write about ten things you love that begin with your assigned letter, and post it at your place. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on.

1. My amazing husband, Daniel. If I've said it once, I've said it a billion times: Meeting Daniel changed my life. With him I have found my best friend, my soul mate, my partner, and one great father to Zoe and soon Finnegan. I am so grateful that we both decided to do the show we met in and that despite neither of us wanting a relationship, that we took the time to discover we were meant to be together.
2. My daughter, Zoe. Zoe is the kind of kid that makes you want to have more. She is my sunshine, my monkey, my little performer extraordinaire and in having her I have discovered what it's like to see the world through a child's eyes. Life was good before she came into my world, but it's been even more amazing and fulfilling getting to share it with her.
3. My Dear Friends & Family. I'm totally stretching it with this one - but whatever. I've been lucky enough to meet some wonderful people in my life. Some of them are my family who I adore - and the rest are the people I have chosen - or they chose me - to be a part of my extended family. I've known some of them since the day I was born and some for only a couple of years - but they're all so special to me.
4. The Dog Children - Bailey & Max. Bailey was our first attempt at being "parents". We figured if we could handle her, a real kid wouldn't be that much more difficult. Um, yes. So anyway, with her we got an incredibly neurotic, loving, protective, little girl with some major separation anxiety. We loved her so much we decided to add to our family and ended up with Max who is precious, pushy and pudgy as can be. They were our first kids and I love them like they were my actual children. Shut up, I do.
5. I'm all about deliveries. Be it email, snail mail, or a package from Amazon left on my doorstep - I'm like a kid on Christmas. It brings me joy. Here is also where I sneak in how excited I am for a VERY special delivery coming at the end of December. I can barely contain my excitement for our son, Finn to arrive.
6. Drama. Not your run of the mill drama that makes life exhausting sometimes, oh no. I'm talking about theatre. I'm talking about getting to perform on stage and make people believe you are funny, horrible, mean, sexy, whatever. I miss getting to perform, but I have so many great memories of that time and hope I get to do it again someday soon. In the mean time, I love getting out to the theatre, movies or watching a good show on television.
7. My Digital Camera. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have the creative outlet that my camera has provided me. When I'm feeling down or bored all I need to do is pick it up and start taking pictures and those feelings melt away. I've become an avid recorder of our family and love getting out and taking pictures.
8. Decorating. I worked for years in furniture/home decor retail and still enjoy getting creative and making our home "just so". Truth is, I love a big old project that disrupts everything for a bit and then getting to sit back and enjoy the environment I've created once the project is complete. I'm chomping at the bit to have us own our own home someday so I can truly make it into our space.
9. Diabetes. I know it sounds a bit odd, but getting diabetes changed my life in a good way. Even if it is only gestational, it has instilled in me the importance of taking care of myself and has taught me a healthy way to do it. I'm looking forward to continuing to watch what I eat after Finn is born and becoming a healthier person.
10. Dining out. As much as I've grown to enjoy cooking at home, I still love a good meal out with Daniel. Taking Zoe with us isn't quite as fun or as easy as it used to be, but getting to go out just the two of us and just relax and enjoy each other's company and yummy food is one of my favorite things to do. I'm really hoping we'll get to do this before Finn arrives - I'm dying to go to the place where Daniel proposed to me: Mama Tosca's.

WHOA!

2008-11-24T15:00:00.000-08:00

A few minutes after my parents had arrived Saturday afternoon my Mom sat on the couch with my Dad, looked at me and said: "You don't look nearly as big as your pictures you've posted make you look." I took this in and thought to myself that maybe the camera really does add more bulk than I realized. So I stood up for my parents and smoothed my shirt over my tummy and did the "pregnant pose" - you know hands on either side of my belly.

"WHOA! I guess you are that big!"
My parents laughed.
To really drive home the point, I lifted my shirt so they could see the belly and my pants barely stretched over it.
There was more nervous laughter. The general consensus is now: Yes. Keely has a big 'ol belly.

I've come to accept this and just embrace it. I'm making adjustments. My overalls are no longer an option because they make me look like the ~~mayor of Munchkinland~~ Tweedle Dum or Tweedle Dee (THAT'S what I should have been for Halloween!). My pants are working so hard to stretch across my belly that I might have to invest in some suspenders to assist them - this fight with gravity is becoming a losing battle. The good news is, there's not much time left. Finn will be here five weeks from today. I'm going to do the best I can to avoid having to buy more maternity wear.

Wish me luck!

It's Beginning...

2008-11-23T20:57:00.000-08:00

To Look A Lot Like Christmas!

Normally, I have a rule: No Christmas decorations or songs until the day after Thanksgiving. After years of retail, anything sooner puts me in a Scrooge like mood. I just like being able to focus on Halloween and Thanksgiving as their own special days and find that retail establishments pushing Christmas at us negates those days.

The thing is, I'm tired. As I get closer and closer to being full term, I find my energy waning. Between this huge belly (that measured 38 weeks* last Friday - I'm only 34 as of today) and Zo-Zo monkey I feel less and less motivation to take on big projects like decorating - and decorating for Christmas is always a big, fun project for me. I wanted to make sure I had the time to do it right, to make the first Christmas that Zoe is really aware of the festivities special for her. So, our tree is up now. My parents have decided to scale down so we traded them our 6 foot tree for their 9 foot tree, we did the trade this weekend. Our new tree is tall and stunning and warms our home with it's bright lights. Zoe is in absolute awe of it - which is a joy to see since last year she was indifferent to the fake tree in our living room. I still need to put our holiday knick knacks in their special homes around the house and implement some quick projects that I've been daydreaming about, but the bulk of the task is done just having things down from the attic and the tree decorated. I feel a sense of accomplishment (now I just need to finish Finn's nursery area of our room!) but I promise to keep photos of the Christmas cheer off of Flickr and this blog until after Thanksgiving. Oh, and just because the tree is up does not mean I'll be playing any Christmas music until next weekend - I have my rules!

* - My doctor assures me that measuring 38 weeks at my appointment is not a big deal. It doesn't mean I'm having Finn any sooner. What is far more likely is that Finn was just higher up at 10:30 am Friday morning. I don't know... the doc said something about my uterus being a swimming pool and my son doing laps. I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or not, but I've been told that my son is NOT huge and that everything is OK. OOOOOK. *Deep breath!*

Phoning one in

2008-11-22T20:22:00.000-08:00

It's been a busy Saturday - getting ready for our trip to San Diego this Wednesday, cleaning the house since my parents came into town this afternoon. Tomorrow we'll do more cleaning and I do believe we'll decorate the Christmas tree, too. It's usually something we save for the day or weekend after Thanksgiving, but I want to get it done while I'm still somewhat mobile. The mobility is rapidly lessening with this sciatic nerve issue and general discomfort - but it doesn't stop me from trying to push my limits whenever possible.

Being a Parent is Easy

2008-11-21T21:37:00.000-08:00

So, the other night we're wrapping up dinner and getting ready to get Zoe out of her highchair. Daniel is clearing up her "dessert" and getting ready to put the remains of it back in the refrigerator for another day.

General freak out/fussy/woe is me/how dare you try to end a meal! noises come from Zoe. If she had it her way, certain meals would go on and on and on.

Daniel pauses and looks at me as I look back and forth between him and our daughter. I'm exhausted, lounging on our couch and completely letting him run the show, but I offer this:

Me: She wants more, honey.
Him: Should I give her more?
Me: Well it is apples, not.... CRACK!* (I had paused as I tried hard to think of something we shouldn't give her too much of. Didn't want to say something boring like cookies or ice cream.)
Him: You need to blog this.

So - she got more apples and she was thrilled - like we'd given her the best thing in all the world. What can I say, sometimes she's easy to please.

* - And for the record: I know to not ever give my kids crack. Just in case you were worried. Also, I'm slightly snarky at this stage in my pregnancy, ~~my apologies~~.

Look how young I was!

2008-11-20T17:12:00.000-08:00

As I was scanning photos in, I would show them to Zoe.

"Look at mama, Zoe!"

She'd stare very closely at the photo and then look at me for a moment. "Nooooooo!" giggle,giggle.

Like I had just told her a silly, silly lie and I wasn't fooling her. I know, kiddo. I barely recognize me either.

It sure was fun going down memory lane though!

1. High School Me's, 2. High School Me's, 3. High School Me's, 4. High School Me's, 5. High School Me's, 6. The gang - Senior Prom, 7. Me w/ my Sharon., 8. 15? With Ramsey..., 9. At a school show, 10. BFF from high school and me, 11. Silly Girls, 12. With one of my good pals

Created with fd's Flickr Toys.

Pictures of Me

2008-11-19T22:18:00.000-08:00

A couple days ago I told one of my high school friends that I was going to bust out some photos of us from our younger years and post them on Facebook so we could relive the memories. I had to search them out. They were stuffed in a box on the top shelf of our guest room closet and it was no easy feat to pull them down to sort through. But when I found them I was struck by our silliness, our innocence, our youth. As I looked at photos of me from as many as seventeen years ago, I barely recognized the girl smiling back at me. Sure, the blonde hair had something to do with it as did the svelte figure. The adult me is wanting to kick myself for all the times I called myself fat, all the nights I spent crying because I thought I was so ugly and that's why I never got asked to the dances. Maybe it's with my adult eyes that I'm able to see that I was perfect the way I was. I just hadn't reached my full potential - despite how I looked, I hadn't accepted myself for who I was and maybe that insecurity is what made me feel so distanced.

If I could go back in time, I'd tell that girl to be patient. I'd tell her that as insecure as she feels now, someday she is going to know true happiness. She's going to have the love and support of her friends and family and her soul mate. Someday, she will know that she is an amazing and good person and that the people in her life are there because she is beautiful inside and out. I would tell her that she is more than the clothes she wears and the weight on her body and that one very special man is going to see that and help her realize that every single day that they are together. I'd tell her to believe in herself and not worry so much about what everyone thinks.

I don't think that girl would listen to, or believe me... but I do hope that Zoe believes me when I tell her all these things someday.