Snow Monsters

Logan Utah has some of the best sledding around at Old Main Hill on USU's campus. The LG got his first taste of how exhilarating the rush of wind, speed and snow in your face can be while heading toward the unforgiving cement of the street at the bottom of the hill. There used to be hay bales and large "AT YOUR OWN RISK" signs, but I hear that the hay bales caused more problems than the street, and so now you are free to sled all the way to Main Street if you like (this will only make sense if you have been there). The occasion was his cousin's 4th birthday. His cousin is a daring 4 year old who didn't care if he made it down the hill backward, forward or on his rear end, so long as there was a lot of speed involved, and an overly dramatic crash at the end. The crash was critical. Even if the sled stopped before there was an accident, he was sure to roll out with as much bravado as possible, while rolling around in the snow with a big smile on his face. Much against his parents protests, he also liked to sit on his knees facing backward, which only once resulted in him running into a tree - again with a big smile on his face.
Sledding with BK

Crazy Cousin

Enjoying the Real Life

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas everyone. We are having a WONDERFUL time here in Utah where there is plenty of fresh snow, family and nothing to do. The LG learned how to crawl down stairs, which I am tremendously grateful for considering that his first instinct - which he followed 3 times - was to take the walk of faith of the top stair. Fortunately, and by the grace of God, helping hands were always there to catch him, and now he is quite adept at sliding down he staircase on his bulbous belly.

It has been an interesting Christmas, including a funeral, hospitalizations and other various calamities. However, it has made us all even more grateful for the things we do have. The LG is having a great time with his cousins. The BK had the brilliant idea to get us some snowshoes so we can take advantage of the great outdoors in our new city. And my dad was able to come home today after spending much of the past week in and out of the hospital for back surgery.

Christmas is a strange time now that I have the LG. It seems you walk a VERY fine line between having a good time, and teaching your kids what is really important. It took some serious coaxing out of my nephew, who will be turning 4 this week, to mention Jesus when asked about the true meaning of Christmas. Santa is, of course, much more exciting to a 4 year old considering that he brings presents. Then again, the look on his face this morning when he saw his presents was pretty exciting to me. Maybe it is what you teach them the other 364 days of the year that will help a bit as they get older.

MERRY CHRISTMAS with Love.

Flip Flopping

Happy Holidays everyone. I have been too wrapped up in the craziness of my family and the holidays to sit still for a few minutes to blog. As is always the case when I get together with my brothers, politics, the art of design, and religion seem to be the topics of discussion. So I have politics on my mind, and have a particular gripe to pick with the media and perceived public perception of "Flip Floppers". [Just an FYI for those only interested in the LG - stop reading now, there are no pictures, there are no cute anecdotes to follow - just politics.]

Let me explain. Flip Floppers - politicians that change their minds - seem to take a lot of criticism for altering opinions on topics or issues. Before I go further, please note that this is certainly no endorsement of any particular candidate or party as I myself am a perpetual Flip Flopper and refuse to entertain seriously any presidential considerations this far from the election date. If I understand the political process in this country (and clearly I think I do), it is the responsibility of a good representative of the people to "represent the people" and to make good decisions based not only on what that representative personally believes, but based on what her/his constituents believe. Take me for example - a Flip Flopper on some issues. What if a constituent base is solely comprised of people like me who change their minds - frequently? Is it so unreasonable that a politician would have a similar change of heart?

Rather than blather on too much about this, let me just say, that I personally believe it is worse to stick to your guns no matter what, even if you are wrong. I realize that politicians are supposed to stand for something, but being capable of making good decisions doesn't mean that you are always right, it just means you make good choices based on the information you have in front of you at the time. Times change, and so does information. Having the personal stamina to change one's mind, and admit failure or change course is much more difficult than the alternative. Cowboys or Flip Floppers? Tough choices these days.

Exhaustion

(ahhh, if only it were so glamorous)

Happy holidays to me (this is a mental reminder to myself - please disregard). Today I made a completely fatal attempt to take the LG shopping in my new town. My list was pretty simple (paper, envelopes, gift for the big Kahuna, and mittens for little Kahuna (LG)). I did my research ahead of time, brought the addresses to plug into our GPS (a perfect early x-mas gift for people new to strange and distant lands - thanks mom!), and even brought my list. This should have been a recipe for success.

Not so. Apparently, LG's mitts are too colossal to fit in most mittens - not most mittens for his age, I mean MOST mittens designed for children 3 and under, so I had to go with the first ugly pair that fit which he ate the tag from while throwing a tantrum which involved him using the lap belt of his stroller as leverage to catapult his head toward his feet while shrieking at the clerk like a terrified teenage girl.

As for the paper and envelopes, after trying to find a store similar to the Paper Source (FYI - Paper Source and Home Depot are my ideas of big box heaven), I had to go with the store that looked like a winner based on my stealthy internet research. Not so. By the time we got to the store, the LG had pulled off his shoes and I was all out of energy to put them back on. He stole my keys as I put him in the stroller, and by the time we left the paper store that sold only stationary (the internet seemed to indicate otherwise), I was grateful that he still had the keys in hand which I had completely forgotten about.

I was able to get the gift for the BK, but without divulging where I was or what I was buying for fear that he will know what I bought, I left the store feeling like an idiot for a particular question I asked.

God willing, I will have more children. The prospects for me getting nearer to a successful shopping endeavor seem bleaker and bleaker. What a great word. BLEAKER. Say it a few times out loud and you might just start laughing like I am. Nothing like laughter to numb the pain of parenting.

The LG Survives!

In all of the hubub of us treking through the US, you may think that I forgot the LG's birthday. Not so! In fact, I was insane enough to have a small party for him the day before the moving truck arrived. Now, I must say, that throwing a birthday party for a one year old requires some creativity, and I had run all out of both creativity and time. I didn't hire a giant size Elmo, there were no ponies or clowns, and I didn't rent out Disneyland. I was most interested in having a celebration of survival - that includes papa, mama and baba. All in all, however, the LG didn't seem to mind that we had chili and no particular theme. Thankfully, my friends and family were too polite to comment. As you can see below, we put him in his birthday suit, gave him a piece of chocolate cake and told him to go at it.

I am becoming addicted to lists, which could be dangerous, and requires a lot of scrolling. Nonetheless, here is my shortlist of favorite LG moments from the first year and a few of my favorite pictures:

1. First Moment I Saw Him. I will never forget the large birthmark on his leg, and was thankful that I couldn't possibly confuse him with the other alien look-alikes in the newbie ward.

2. Naked Baby Body. No particular moment, just anytime that disproportionate ball of blubber and energy decides to run for the hills with his bare fanny bouncing and his squishable tummy protruding.

3. Goose Noises. When he was very little, he would make these funny noises that sounded like a flock of geese.

4. Hysterics. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, he just starts laughing. This is not giggling, or chuckling, but all out laughter, like the kind of laughter that requires a diaper change even for adults. Once this was brought on by Dad sneezing, but has not since been replicated with any similar success.

5. Pincher Fingers. When he first started to pick things up, I would laugh hysterically. His hands are like clubs, and it looked (and still looks) like two little sausages trying to smother a cheerio.

6. Things He Likes. I don't know why but I find it fascinating that he likes things - anything. Already he is his own little self and I love it. He loves bananas, eating, bottles, Gertrudis, his BFF, dancing, hide and seek, remote controls, and hearing his own voice.

FIRST YEAR PICS

SLEEPING BABUS


FIRST SMILES


BEACH BUMS


FIRST STEPS

MOVED!!!

As I mentioned in my last post, which I completed 30 seconds ago, I have a lot to catch up on. We have arrived in Portland! Thanks to a lot of help from our friends and family. Things are very different here in Portland. Some good, some bad. Rather than blubbering on about all of them, I am doing a list of the Top 5 things I love, and the Top 5 things I don't love about our new home here in the West. I will start with the bad so as to end on a good note.

HATIN' IT

1. Black Clothes. Everywhere we look, people are poorly dressed and wearing black. I realize it is rainy, but really, does all that black really help????

2. Back to the Stone Ages. While waiting to get connected to the internet, I went to Starbucks to access some wireless internet. Aside from the clerk/cashier/whatever looking rather confused as to why I would even want to use such an invention, it wasn't even free. Seriously.

3. Gas. Not the kind you pass, the kind you pump, or rather the kind that others legally have to pump for you here in the great state of Oregon.

4. Stairs. The house we are renting has a full flight of stairs leading to the front door - a bit tough with a stroller and 25lb toddler in tote.

5. Networking. As I mentioned in my last post, I don't like meeting new people. My husband is much better at it though he claims he doesn't like it either. Time to come out of our shells.

LOVIN' IT


1. Water. There is plenty of it. Rain, ocean, rivers. I love it all - so far. Plus, the rain is a good excuse to dress the LG up in his new slicker.

2. People. Backwards as this place seems right now, we were looking for a change of pace, and friendly people. Consider them both found.

3. Stairs. Although the outside stairs vex me, the inside of the house has no stairs, and therefore allows the LG free reign in running room to room.

4. Bridges. I have a love affair with bridges. You can check them all out at www.portlandbridges.com/00,0,70,0,1,0-portland-oregon.html

5. Christmas. I know this has nothing to do with Portland, but I love Christmas so much, that all the lights and holiday cheer make any city more lovable.

Tagged

I have a lot of catching up to do here, starting with my response to being "tagged" by a beloved friend/family member, so I should start here.

The Rules
1. The player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves - try to find 6 you haven't already posted about.
2. At the end of the post, the player tags 6 people and posts their names, and then goes to their blog and leaves them a comment, letting them know they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog for the rules.*
*I am amending this rule since I really need to find more blogging buddies. The only people I could tag are listed under my "Fav Five" which only consists of 3. That should give you an idea of the difficulty in Rule 2 for me. So I throw this out there to other readers to post a comment and include something I don't know about them, for instance, if you have been thrown in jail or something without me knowing it.

Here goes (not in any order of importance):

1. I love driving REALLY fast, really fast in really nice cars with 6 speeds. I am too cheap to buy nice cars, however, which is where my not so cheap husband may come in handy someday.

2. I am pretty conservative. Shocking to my family, but probably not that surprising to most other people who know me. The confusion may lie with my strong conviction that other people should be able to do whatever they want.

3. I am two-brained. I don't mean to suggest that I have 2 brains, or that I have twice the brain power, only that I think that both sides of my brain constantly play tug of war. Part of me would like to be Martha Stewart, the other part of me wants to stand in front of the Supreme Court and argue the injustice of affirmative action. What's that you said, not you, me, I mean you. Huh? Exactly.

4. I love being a mother. I am probably not the best mother, and have a long way to go until I deserve being loved as much as the LG seems to love me, but I love it - and him.

5. I don't like people. People in a crowded room kind of people. People I don't know kind of people. I think that makes me an introvert. No chit chat for me. Real conversations with real people that I know. Those are the kind of people I like.

6. I am pretty boring, although I have my moments (this is also where my husband comes in handy)- most of which occurred overseas. Mostly I like being at home with my family and close friends.

Still Moving On

So we made it to Cincinnati with a 26 foot moving van with our car in tow. The LG and I will be chilling here for a few days with some family while the man of the house totes the house (or at least all of the things that go in a house) all by his lonesome to Oregon. I should mention here that he is already behind schedule, primarily due to my inability assist in backing up the truck with car in tow so that we could turn around in a culdesac. Bad idea. After successfully directing my hubby to back the truck up over the hitch, a few unsavory words, a few arguments, a good nights' rest, more than a few phone calls to Penske, a new tow dolly, and just a few hours of time wasted, the hubby was off on his grand adventure.

I am not sure I understand men at all. The LG's father has been looking forward to this adventure since the day we decided to move. It would be one thing if he were driving his motorcycle across country in the late spring or early autumn when the weather was cool, his drive unencumbered by deadlines and a lot of dead weight, but really, a 26 foot moving truck with a car in tow at 45 miles per hour in November - please help me understand how this somehow fits into a man's romantic notion of alone time on the open road?

At the moment it is pretty easy to boil down my life to the people I love and a truckful of memories and belongings. I'm grateful that so far, our lives are still intact, we are all safe, and our belongings are still in a truck that has not run into serious trouble. Hope you all have a MARVELOUS Thanksgiving.

Moving On

So, after 2 years of wishing we were moving West, our dreams have come true. I seem to have "Be Careful What You Wish For, Cause You Just Might Get It All" ringing in my head. The rumors are true. We are moving to PORTLAND (OR)!!! In all the rush and craziness, I have been a bit overwhelmed by thoughts of how much I will miss our lives here. I have to keep reminding myself of the things I won't miss...and believe me, if I could come up with a sarcastic comment here, I would. Ultimately, it is a lifestyle choice. We have decided that rather than live with all of the self-interested, interesting, diverse, educated politicos, we would rather live with the overzealous tree-hugging hippies of the great Northwest. Any tips on how to survive will be much appreciated.

Seriously, we are indeed excited about our newest adventure. We plan on doing the modern day exodus thing with the 22 foot moving truck and car in tote with my handsome moses at the helm. I, of course, will be flying first class with the baby. No one said it would be easy.

Perhaps even more exciting is that the LG will soon be turning 1!!! Amazing that so far, we have all made it, barring a few bumps and bruises (3 of which he got today). Considering his super strength, we felt that Bambam (with our neighbor, aka Pebbles, as cohort) was an appropriate get up for Halloween.

Here you can see him losing a battle for the prehistoric bone. Pebbles just happens to be his best friend, and although she is much smaller in comparison, she is much stronger in temperament. The LG doesn't win many of these battles, although I maintain that if he really wanted to, he could use some of his sweet ninja moves to steal his toys back and show her what he is made of.

Letting Go of the Cape

I realize the LG is pretty young to give up on anything, but perhaps it is time that I, as his mother, stop pushing him into things he is not interested in. The cape just isn't sticking. I am sure this is just the beginning of the unending disappointment I will experience when the qualities I envisioned in the perfect child when he was still in the womb are picked off my master list one by one until I am left with nothing, NOTHING!

So he isn't going to be a superhero. It's still a really long list, so I guess I don't have to give up my dreams of him winning the Heisman and World Cup, conducting the Philadelphia Philharmonic, discovering the cure for AIDS, winning a Nobel Peace Prize for negotiating a successful resolution between Israel and Palestine, and building the first Fortune 500 company built solely on "green" products and services....at least not yet. Oh, I forgot to mention the 10 languages he will speak.



It looks as though instead of pursuing a career flying through the friendly skies, he is more interested in becoming a Ninja. Honestly, I just don't know what he is thinking (especially since he can't talk yet). I just can't bring myself to buy the proper bamboo staff. As you can see below, he is using anything he can find to train himself. I know that at 11 months I should just be thrilled that he has engrossed himself so thoroughly in anything, but I just can't let go of the cape.

Pumpkin Man

Crazy week. That's what it has been around here. We were in NYC for 2 days with the LG. I tell you what - I love NYC, but not with a stroller, which by the way, is NOT a Maclaren, something I hadn't ever thought too much about until our little visit to the big apple where every stroller pushing nanny (didn't see to many people who were the same color as the kids) was pushing the finest in toddler transportation. The LG and I had a great time for a couple hours at the Natural History Museum as you can see below. I particularly like the look on his face - it reminds me of a photo my mom took of me years back in NYC when she was trying to get us to smile after being dragged from one tourist destination to another (love you mom ; )

After our train arrived back in DC 45 minutes late around midnight on Friday, we got home and to bed around 1am. Up at 6:30 with the LG. Cleaning and packing all day before leaving on an evening flight for a quick weekend in Portland without the LG. This was the first time leaving him for more than one night (and that one night was with my mom). I am not really a worrier, or super mushy about many things, but I missed the LG, and worried, and couldn't wait until those 48 hours of freedom were over and those little Michelin arms around my neck.

Lest you think I am getting too mushy, let me get on my soapbox for a minute. This woman sitting next to me on the flight back, had this bag with a picture looking something like this, except that it said, "Anti-War, Pro-Kittens". Okay, aside from all of the creepy images I had of her stowing like 50 kittens in that bag, COME ON. Seriously. I don't even know how to respond to the stupidity of this statement. Since I don't know where to start, I won't, but let me just say that in my quest to find a picture to illustrate, I discovered that there is a whole movement dedicated to this asinine cause. The only thing keeping me laughing is that this picture makes me think of them dropping kittens instead of bombs, and our enemies being so perplexed by this strange change in tactic, that they actually run screaming for their lives. Kittens. Come on.

Back to the real reason for this post - I wanted to share a fabulous pic of the LG with his first "Jack" O' Lantern. Check out the Michelins, and all those teeth. As you can see, he is very proud of that orange gourd.

Fighter

I used to be a fighter. I used to love to get into it with people about ideas - particularly politics. You know, pull out the fists, get in a little tongue lashing here and there. Other than getting into it with the love of my life every now and then about global issues like dishes, who gets to do the grocery shopping, and who is most tired, I think I have put the gloves away. Retired. The fighter has been put to bed. The question is, what does that mean? Am I now an uber whimp? Has my mind turned to mush? Am I no longer me? What happens when the fighter moves on - is my mind now destined to become a big blob of gelatanous goo? That's what happens to football players who retire (especially the ones from high school who don't ever exercise again). Something has to move in to the vast caverns where muscle once dwelt (huh? - sometimes I don't even get what I am saying). Don't get me wrong - there are still things that get me going, but I can't quite think of what they are just now. On the other hand, there are always a few people who know just how to light that spark. You know who you are. Bring it.

Superhero Training Take #2

Having conquered pushups, situps, and squats, we are moving onto flying. Ambitious you ask? Not at all. Simply a natural progression in any superhero's training regiment. All it takes is a little bit of speed, a cape and sheer will power. Nothing a 10 month old superhero in training isn't capable of. So to hasten the process, I purchased the best in training technology. The contraption provides stability and a handlebar to keep the user from flying into the ceiling - you know, keeping him a bit closer to the ground where he can be supervised.

(Sorry for my incompetence in turning the video around the right way, and not figuring out how to shut the sound off.)

Now, I will tell you that I am not super impressed by the results. There have been numerous attempts at flight. Plenty of speed. The backwards bib should suffice for the cape, and I have seen his tantrums - no question of will power - but each time it looks as though he might just take off, he flies...right into the ground. Depending on how closely I am supervising, this event can often be followed by shrieking, bruises, and once a bleeding lip.

In fact, rather than using it to fly, it appears as though he is using it to walk. He seems to enjoy this a lot more than the flying. Plus, he doesn't really like the cape - as you can see from his "bare" bones approach to clothing. Even the underpants would be optional if it were up to him. He likes the walking so much in fact, that he doesn't even think he needs the contraption. I have advised him otherwise, but he insists. Walking on his own already. Quite absurd, but perhaps I do need to revise the training curriculum to more accurately fit his super strengths and interests. Looks like I need to return the blue tights, red cape and gold belt along with the defunct contraption. That's what I get for shopping on the internet.

Supermom Syndrome

It's 6:30am. I'm sitting in my car waiting to take a call for work. Waiting to win the supermom award. Figured it best to get the call out of the way before superhero training starts this morning. Too bad the call is running late. Too much time to sit and blog. I've decided in these brief 10 minutes that there is no such thing as a supermom - I mean there certainly are super moms, but no Supermoms. You know, the women who supposedly do EVERYTHING - work, raise their children, clean their own homes, sit on committees for church, have gourmet dinners waiting on the table when their husbands get home, weigh as much as they did in high school, serve as President of the PTA. You know the type - the type we all love to hate. The thing is, there are women who come close, and I certainly commend them, but the truth is we all only have 24 hours in a day.

Something suffers. Even if it is just ourselves. I have been thinking about this a lot lately. I only work part-time, and it isn't so much the working - in fact sometimes it is extremely rewarding, stimulating and challenging - it is just the fact that I am responsible for one more thing. Now, if I could replicate myself like in that stupid movie with Michael Keaton, it would be one thing. So the question is, if I could replicate myself, which me would I be? If I could outsource everything else, what would I do? Not sure I could handle focusing my energy on any one thing. So Supermom syndrome wins out, just so long as we are clear there is really no such thing.

So it is 6:50am. Call is now 20 minutes late. Superhero training starts in 10. Better go brush my teeth.

Splish Splash

I wish it would rain. It is hot for the end of September, and rather than peeking at the beautiful fall colors of the leaves on the gigantic tree outside my window at work which also overlooks the C&O canal (yes, it is a rough life) where there are ducks, turtles, and even a crane, the leaves look as though one errant cigarette butt from my esteemed colleagues smoking on the balcony could light the entire tree aflame, burnt to ashes that could disappear in the wind while I stare blankly at my computer screen. Terrifying really.

Don't ask me where that monologue came from. The point of this entry was supposed to be about bathtime, which now seems so boring in comparison to the flaming tree. And yet it isn't. There is just something so amazing about such a little body squirming his slippery body around in the tub while he splashes water in his eyes with his wet hair sticking straight up on the top with his curly q's in the back. I wish I could find a tub big enough, and push aside the images of a whale flailing about in a swimming pool long enough to enjoy my own bathtime that much.

Speaking of out-of-place animals in swimming pools - I learned yesterday that the park service in DC actually trucks in the wildlife (including turtles, fish and whatnot) to the canal for the summer tourists, and then hauls them away before they are permanently preserved in the ice for my winter viewing pleasure. Interesting indeed.

Superhero in Training

This particular morning's boot camp started just like any other with the LG doing a small thigh workout on the trampoline (aka his crib). A small over-the-rail bicep curl on my part lifted him safely to the next morning's exercise apparatus where he proceeded to stretch his legs, back and arms by crawling up my abdomen and sticking his hiney out into space while pushing against my face. Stair climbing was next and led us down to the primary baby boot camp facility where it was time for a uniform change. Poo patty extraction and cleanup was taking place when the LG decided to practice his army rolls, and with the speed of a jackrabbit he had successfully ruined operation "extraction and cleanup" resulting in a lovely smearing of said extraction on carpet and dirty hiney once again up and disappearing quickly around the corner. After a bit of cursing, and a swift snatch and retrieve effort, I was trying to do a bit of reconstruction when he launched a pee attack which barely missed me and backfired by landing spot on in his own mouth. Who said training a superhero was easy?

Eternities

The fact that I was so excited about this blog and haven't found time to post another writing until over a month later is just a testament to the complete overhaul and required shift in my expectations of time. The reality of my life as a parent is that it is comprised of small "eternities". Already I feel as though I have aged a lifetime, yet on the other hand looking back to 8 months ago when the LG was born, it has truly been a small eternity full of such miniscule accomplishments with infinite meaning. My mornings are filled with toothy smiles, bouncing bonanzas, gurgles, giggles, squealing, burping, and all kinds of other treats that seem so far removed from the screaming, early morning feedings, and sleepless nights that once plagued my life in those early weeks, and yet the time from then to now is nothing - 6 months tops - a speck in time.

I’m a new mom. I don’t have a clue what I am doing. However, I already think I am an expert, and like all mothers, I think I am right all of the time. Okay, not all of the time, but you aren’t likely to catch me admitting those lapses in certainty. A few of the things I already know:

• Mothers are hard on each other. You might not admit it, but I know you are looking at that kid with messy hair and a snotty nose running around the airport like a madman thinking to yourself, “If that were my kid, ……..”
• Mothers are fiercely protective of each other (you might think this is a contradiction of the first thing I know, but this contradiction will be further explained in my next point). While watching that madman in the airport, if you are sitting with a childless friend, your response is more likely to be, “You just can’t imagine what it is like until you are a mother.” This is true even if your initial thoughts were more along the lines of “If that were my kid, …..”
• Everything about motherhood is a contradiction. I can both admire and resent someone’s parenting style in precisely the same nanosecond. I guess it is part of the whole multitasking/scatterbrain/supermom phenomenon that we claim occurs after childbirth. I loathe hippy moms with their whole “breastfeed-until-the-baby-is-old-enough-to-walk, talk, and discuss-the-Oedipus-complex-after-the-meal” theories. I also greatly respect breastfeeding fanatics who are committed to doing what they believe is best for their child after reading every book ever written on the subject, attending every class within a 50 mile radius, and sitting in at the White House to protest a woman’s right to feed her child whenever, wherever, and however she chooses. Seriously, that is the kind of commitment we could use more of.

This new club seems to be a most interesting peer group full of amazing women who are as diverse, talented, smart, and crazy as any peer group I have belonged to in the past. However, there are distinct differences between this “club” and others I have been part of, many of which I can’t quite put my finger on yet, but that’s what blogs are for right?