C-Dog Mama

Our Snow Day

2011-01-11T20:17:00.008-06:00

By 2:00 p.m. Sunday afternoon, I was finally convinced that we'd get our snow day. And, as predicted, the snow began falling steadily at about 6:00 p.m. Ahhh...the joy of the impending snow day. Another glass of wine? Why yes, I don'thave to get up in the morning. Watch something on late night t.v.? Why not? There's no reason to go to bed early. I slept in on our snow day until 8:30. 8:30!!! Sleeping that late almost feels like what sleeping until noon felt like when I was a teenager. It was glorious.

We spent our snow day like most other Memphians - walking around our neighborhood, making a snowman, and making our bellies burst with hot chocolate. We enjoyed meeting several of our neighbors on our walk. I even have a few sore muscles from shoveling snow and essentially doing endless repitions of squats while building two snowmen.

Two snowmen? Yes. Two. The first we built in our front yard. While putting the last nandina berry-button on our snowman, our neighbor, a seven year old girl I'll call E, came by and asked if she could help. Bummer. We just finished. E looked disappointed, so we offered to help build another snowman in her yard. E lives with her mom and newborn brother, both of whom would not come outside because of the cold weather. So, we decided to help her build her snowlady in her own yard. We even had it face a window so mom and baby brother could see.

Next up, snowball fight. I don't think E enjoyed that too much since Charlie has horrible aim. And by horrible aim, I mean he would try to aim for your back, arm, or leg but would inevitably smash the snowball in your face or the worst of all of the terrible places to be pelted with a snowball - the back of your neck. Aghhh! I hate when that happens. Just writing this makes me cringe thinking about the feeling of ice cold snow smashing me in the neck and then trickling down inside my coat, only to melt leaving me wet and chilled.

I finally suggested we go inside when I felt the aching cold in my toes and realized our clothes were almost soaked. Into the warm we went for a little hot chocolate therapy. No lie - hot chocolate is my favorite thing about winter. That and watching my boys giggle and play in the snow, all bundled up in their winter gear. I LOVE snow days.

The Simple Things

2011-01-02T13:24:00.008-06:00

While discussing the new year with my husband the other day, I realized that I feel rather apathetic about it. Thinking back over the past year does not bring me much of a sense of accomplishment, and I really do not have anything to look forward to during this new year. Yes, I will watch my children grow and discover new ways that they can make me laugh. Yes, I hope to get more fit, read more, and more or less take better care of myself in both the physical and mental capacities. But I just don't feel like there is much around the corner in 2011. It's just more of the same. Now, I know that consistency is not a bad thing. I just really like change. I'm the kind of person who thrives on have something big to look forward to. I'm sure there will, of course, be all kinds of change in the coming year that I am unaware of at the moment. For now, though, I feel the need to reflect on all of the wonderful simple things that make my life happy.

My children
My wonderful husband who always forgives my bouts of insanity
A house to call home
A job with a decent income
Great friends
Good food and wine
A healthy family and health insurance
My new book club
A current library card with no holds on it
A (hopefully!) income tax return since we spent an arm and a leg on a new energy efficient furnace and air conditioner last summer (we have not had an income tax return the entire time we've been married)
Enough painting supplies to last me a while
Parents who love our children and will babysit them almost whenever we ask
Our YMCA membership
A possibility that we will be able to get out from under a large chunk of our debt this year
A Christmas Wii so I can play "tennis" almost any time I want
A newfound desire to write on this blog again (since summer, I pretty much felt compelled to write nothing for fear it would be a long string of complaints)

I am sure I am leaving things out of what feels like a What I am Thankful for Thanksgiving post. But I think it captures where I am right now at the beginning of this new year. Hopefully, next year, I'll be able to write about all of the wonderful unexpected adventures I have experienced in 2011. For now, though, I am more than satisfied.

Introducing...

2010-07-11T10:40:00.002-05:00

Circe

and Abby

Breathtaking

2010-06-06T09:58:00.013-05:00

Yesterday, we drove to the top of a 13,000 foot Colorado Rocky. The views were magnificent. We even saw several herds of elk in the valley. There may be a permanent indention of my white-knuckled grip on the door handle of the car, my jaw is still a little sore from me clenching my teeth, and my heart continues to flutter a bit when I think about the steep and narrow ascent on the road to the top of that 13,000 foot mountain. But once we reached the summit, it was worth every moment of slight panic. Charlie is so excited that he got to "walk on top of a snowy mountain!"

Days 1, 2, and 3*

2010-06-03T16:31:00.007-05:00

One of the greatest parks I have been to - Fossil Creek Park. Now, this is how a city park should be done.

Charlie, moments before he fell asleep IN his ice cream. I kid you not.

Peace in the car on Tuesday.

A rest stop in Kansas. Now I understand the phrase "wide open spaces."

* The photos are in reverse order, and Iam just too lazy/busy to reorder them.

Roxy

2010-04-26T22:50:00.004-05:00

Roxy was my baby replacement. When Neal and I moved into our first house back in 2004, we immediately started thinking about having a baby. We got pregnant a mere four weeks or so after our move and lost the baby nine weeks into the pregnancy. We were, of course, devastated. That kind of loss is never easy, and we were completely ill-equipped for dealing with it. A couple of weeks after the miscarriage, we decided to fill our void by getting a new puppy.

We found Roxy, a golden retriever, in the newspaper. We drove out to Arlington (or beyond?) to select our new puppy from a family whose dogs made adorable golden retriever puppies. We paid a modest price since they weren’t technically pure bred, which we did not want anyway. When we got to choose our puppy, we sat in a room with six rolly polly fuzzy golden retriever puppies. If you ever have the chance to play with multiple golden retriever puppies at once, I recommend you take advantage of it. It was one of the most adorable moments of my life. We chose Roxy because of her calm disposition, her coloring (darker red), and her huge head. We immediately fell in love with that dog’s beautiful, giant square head.

On the way home, we threw out different names trying to come up with the perfect fit. Neal’s mom, who came along that day, suggested Roxy, and we instantly knew that this would be our new dog’s name.

Once home, we adjusted to the demands of a new puppy – the training, the chewing, the whining. Roxy was always a pretty good dog, though, with the exception of her odd obsession with gnawing the paint off of the bedroom walls. To this day, I never figured out how she managed to do that or why.

Over the past five years, Roxy was always happy, always goofy, and always ready for fun. She understood when I was upset and would let me snuggle with her when I needed it. She quickly grew from a fat floppy puppy into a giant of a dog. Weighing in at over 100 pounds, Roxy was a big girl. She would let me curl up next to her on the floor and use her as a pillow while watching television. Although large, Roxy was also gentle. She never once growled or snapped at either of my boys, who loved to chase her, pull her ears and tail, and generally cause her anxiety. I think Roxy’s only faults were her stubborn refusal to come in the house when commanded and her inability to recognize her own size and strength.

About a month ago, Neal decided to take Roxy to the vet because of a mild limp. Once there, the vet took an X-ray of her leg. She immediately knew that Roxy was sick. Really sick. She told Neal that Roxy had a huge tumor on her leg and had bone cancer. The vet said that tumor was so large that the cancer had probably already begun to metastasize in her lungs. She gave us the option to amputate the leg, but her chances of living another year were slim.

We decided that the best thing to do for Roxy was to euthanize her. This has to be one of the most difficult decisions I have ever made because she seemed so healthy. It was all just so sudden. But our main objective was to do what was best for Roxy and we both agreed that ending her life would be the best way to avoid her having to face any further pain.

On the Tuesday during my Spring Break, we put my Roxy-girl to sleep for good. It was one of the most horrible things I have witnessed, but I am relieved that she is no longer in pain. I now have the babies I so desperately wanted back in 2004, but Roxy, my girl who helped me get through the pain of losing my first baby, is gone forever. I miss her dearly. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her and cry just a little bit. Rest in peace, Roxy-girl. We miss you.

Under My Skin

2010-02-07T16:01:00.005-06:00

I have always had decent skin. I have never really needed make-up. While my sister suffered from horrible acne in high school requiring multiple treatments including oral medication, I was able to get away with not washing my face on occasion and rarely ever wearing make-up. On a few occasions, people have even complimented my skin. The only time I ever have had any blemishes have occurred around that hormonal time of the month when most girls’ bodies go berserk. But now, everything is different.

It is no coincidence that I started having problems with acne in August, the same month I started teaching high school. At first the few bumps around my chin did not bother me because I knew they were due to stress and lack of sleep. I figured that once I got over the hump of being new to the teaching world (new for the second time), I (and my body) would settle into some sort of balance. Well, I apparently have yet to find any balance because I am still tired, still stressed, and still have acne problems similar to a 15 year old. There was even a period of about 6 weeks in the fall when I would touch my face upon leaving school each day, and every single day, I would find a new pimple. I finally stopped checking, but I am sure I am still breeding at least one new pimple per day. It is driving me crazy.

Now, thanks to the acne, I have to wear make-up every day. Each morning, I sit in front of the mirror and carefully apply foundation and concealer to hide the hideous red blotches on my face. In the past, a blemish here or there would never bother me and certainly would not encourage me to put on make-up! Now, though, I feel I cannot leave the house without attempting to hide the splotchy mess that is my face.

I really feel for all those who have suffered and live now with acne especially as a teenager. It’s hard enough to be a teenager, let alone one with a target smack-dab in the middle of your face for all to see. Yes, I’m sure it is looks worse to the individual than to the outside world, but the teenage years are hard enough. And even as an adult, it is hard not to be hyper-aware of your acne when you feel it screaming off your face.

I found myself close to tears this morning when I looked in the mirror. I can’t explain why it is such a big deal to me, but for some reason, my skin problems are really bothering me. I am sure much of my frustration just comes with being bothered by it at all. More likely is that the acne serves as a reminder of the stress that I am under, and feeling overwhelmed is never a good thing. Each red blotch has one of the following on it: a sleepless night, a difficult student’s name, a worry over being good enough at my job, a worry about whether or not I’ll have a job next August, about 60 professional development hours I have yet to complete, a worry over being a good enough parent. Unless I can find some seriously bad-ass skin treatment, my only hope is that by June, the stress will be gone along with the pimples.

The (belated) Birth Story: Henry

2010-01-18T21:33:00.002-06:00

Only recently have I realized that I haven't yet captured Henry's birth in words. I realized this when I was teaching my students the definition of a memoir. After grasping the definition, each student was to state what he/she would write about if he/she was to write a memoir. Of course, when I asked the question, the students fell silent. So, I thought I'd give my example and told them that I would write my memoir about almost giving birth to my son in the car. That definitely peaked their interest!

Henry's birth was such a different experience than Charlie's over three years ago, and I want to be sure that I remember the details later in life when I'm possibly screaming at him for wrecking the car or doing some of the other stupid things I did while in high school.

Throughout my pregnancy with Henry, I knew I wanted to attempt natural childbirth. I even considered a home birth . I read a lot of birth stories early in my pregnancy, and I really wanted to experience childbirth in as natural a way as possible. I was empowered by the stories I read, and wanted to let my body do what it is capable of doing. I met with a midwife who was wonderful. We discussed my concerns about a home birth since Charlie had been pre-mature. She completely resolved my fears and I was almost totally on board. I loved the idea of giving birth in the comfort of my own home. I loved the thought of not having to be in a hospital, a place for sick people, to give birth. It's bad enough that our health system sees maternity leave as a disability. But after much thought, a lot of research, and conversations with friends and family, I realized that a home birth was not the right option. Essentially, the deciding factor was this - if I opted for a home birth, I was taking the chance of Neal having to catch the baby. Now, I knew that was something that he did NOT want to do. I had to consider his role in the whole thing, and I did not want to put that responsibility on him if it was something he was not comfortable doing.
Before I made my decision, I talked at length about the possibility with my OB. He was definitely open to the idea but also informed me of the fact that if something were to go wrong, I'd be on my own. I appreciated his concern but went on my merry way and made the decision that was best for me and my family. We instead decided that I would deliver in the hospital where Neal would be able to be my support and not the baby catcher.

I read a lot about natural childbirth. We eventually decided on our own version of the Bradley Method. We read and read and practiced. We practiced breathing, birthing positions, labor positions, etc. We felt prepared. There is a section in one of Bradley's books that discusses the early stages of labor where the mother walks around "putsy putsy" getting ready for the real hard and final stages of labor. At the time, we thought that "putsy putsy" was a funny way to descirbe those moments before hard labor begins, but when we thought we were experiencing it, the term seemed to fit.

About a week before Henry was born, Neal, Charlie and I had a quick dinner before going to our parent meeting at Charlie's school. During dinner, I started feeling mild contractions. We began to time them. They were inconsistent, but we were sure that this was it. We walked "putsy putsy" around the house, got our bags together to go to the hospital. Made a phone list of who to call, and eventually, gave up on the whole thing because the contractions subsided. We'll call it a practice run. I decided to leave my bag packed because I had a feeling that labor would come soon.

I distinctly remember the special items that I packed in my bag. I had chosen comfortable clothes to wear while in the hospital, opting out of the hospital gown. I also packed my i-pod, with a soothing labor playlist, a book to read, and grapefruit-grape seed oil shower gel. I remembered that my sister brought me some invigorating shower gel while I was in the hospital with Charlie and how it felt oh so good to take a shower using something other than the hospital bar soap.

Throughout the rest of the week, I had mild contractions here and there but thought little of them. I made it to Friday, my last day of work before my scheduled maternity leave. Henry's due date was the following Tuesday, so I figured I would probably have a few days to laze around the house and brush up on my birthing skills before he was born. My biggest fear at this point was that I would be pregnant forever, or at least be pregnant for a couple of more weeks. My OB, of course, had offered me the option to induce two weeks before the due date, but I wanted nothing of it. I wanted a natural child birth and was willing to remain pregnant a little longer if needed. In my mind, I knew he would come when he was ready. After all, Charlie came when he was ready; it just happened to be 5 1/2 weeks early. I finally agreed to schedule a date to induce, which fell almost two weeks after my due date. Deep inside, though, I knew I would not go that far.

Monday rolled around and I found myself staring at my huge belly, talking to it, hoping to persuade Henry to make his entrance to the outside world. I cleaned the house, went on walks, and continued to prepare for his arrival. On Tuesday, the due date, Neal and I accepted an invitation to dinner at Tiffany and Mark's house. We had a wonderful meal and made jokes about my possibly never-ending pregnancy. It was an early night, and we were home by 9:00. After getting Charlie bathed and in bed, I had a nagging desire to soak my feet in the warming foot tub that I never use. I plopped myself on the sofa and submerged my feet in the wonderful bath. It was soooo relaxing. I decided to add a little tea tree oil to the mix to ease my stinking late summer feet. The scent was invigorating, but I was so tired, I almost fell asleep.

At about 10:00, I started to feel mild contractions. Again. I did not want to make a big deal about it because I had kept Neal and me on the edge of our seats the entire week with false labor. I checked my watch and decided I would tell Neal if the contractions continued for 30 minutes. By 10:30, the contractions were still coming. The intensity and timing was inconsistent, but nevertheless, they continued. I told Neal about them, so we decided to get things together for a late night departure to the hospital if necessary.

At around 11:30, I took a shower and planned to go to bed. Neal was working at the computer, and we decided that I should get some rest, believing that we would head to the hospital sometime the next day when the real work would come. After showering, I put on the most comfortable t-shirt I had and headed for bed.

The moment I lifted myself into bed, my water broke. It wasn't the gush that I had expected, but it was definitely enough to let me know that this was it. I was truly in labor. I called for Neal, who instantly came to help and comfort me. We weren't sure how much time we had, but I wanted to labor at home as long as possible. Neal finally convinced me that it was time to call my father, who was to be our middle of the night babysitter for Charlie. At around midnight, we made the call, and my father said he would be right over. My parents live less than 20 minutes away from our house, so we had little worries about him getting there in time.

At 12:40, my dad had yet to arrive, but the contractions were increasing in strength. I was getting worried. By the time he showed up by about 12:50, I was bowled over with pain. Walking to the car was ridiculous because every few feet, I had to lean over and moan to ease the pain of the contractions. I remember the moment my father walked into the house, we were waiting anxiously by the back door. Right when he walked in I said, "Hi, Dad" and then I had to brace myself on the chair in our den to get through yet another painful contraction. At this point, they were about 3 minutes apart and hurt like hell! Fortunately, Charlie remained quietly sleeping through all of the gutteral moans bellowing out of me. I think Neal was a little scared about my physical reactions to the pain, but he kept his cool and helped me to the car.

By approximately 1:05, we were in the car, backing out of our driveway. The 10-15 minute drive to the hospital was familar to us, since we had been there several times while Charlie was in the NICU in 2006. But boy was it a different ride! I had contraction after contraction and was praying that I wouldn't be in the midst of one while going over certain familiar bumps in the roads. Let me tell you, being in extreme labor while in the car is a nightmare. During the first few minutes of the ride, all I could think about was the upcoming railroad crossing. I remember thinking in my head, "PLEASE don't have a contraction while crossing the tracks, P.L.E.A.S.E!"
We came upon the railroad crossing, and I cursed the gods for making me have a contraction while crossing the tracks but was also grateful that we did not have to stop for a train. We made our way via side streets hoping to avoid lights. Once we got to Shady Grove, though, the contractions were so bad, I feared I would deliver this baby in the car. I moaned and groaned all the way down this winding road when we came upon a stop sign. I screamed at Neal to drive through it because I knew the baby was coming, and he would wait for nothing. I later learned that those moans were worse than I even knew. Neal told me that he was terrified by the sounds coming out of me, but thankfully, he drove us safely to the hospital.

We finally pulled into the hospital drive. Neal wanted to drop me off at the entrance but I was adament about staying with him. I did not want to fumble my way to the maternity floor on my own. We parked the car in a nearby spot and quickly (but slowly) made our way to the building. We had to stop several times on our way in because I could barely walk, let alone walk my way through a contraction. At one point, I had to stopped and asked Neal to lean over so I could lean on him. He was baffled about what I needed him to do. I remember leaning on him awkwardly, wondering if I would make it to the building, when I saw my mom drive by in the parking lot. I was grateful to see her, but we had little time to waste and headed inside.

When we entered the building, a very nice security worker gently offered a wheelchair for me, but there was no way in the world I could sit! The baby's head was pressing on my pelvis with full force and standing was the only way I could bare to be alive at that moment. When he again tried to offer the wheelchair, my mind said, "You want me to do what? Don't you know how impossible it would be for me to sit right now?" Instead, I looked at Neal and softly groweled a polite "No." I think I even thanked the man for the offer. That's the southern girl in me! I do remember that he was kind enough to step on the elevator with us and push the button to the correct floor. I can only imagine how many women have gone there in labor to find themselves on the wrong floor.

Once we got to the second floor, the maternity floor (I will never understand why they could not have just planned that building with the maternity ward on the first floor!) Neal went to the window to check me in. At this time, I was leaning on the wall, moaning in pain. Yes, I was that woman. The woman who was almost completely oblivious to her surroundings and who was moments away from squatting right there in the waiting room to give birth. I think I scared the hell out of the other couple in the waiting room. She was, of course, in labor, but I think they decided to come to the hospital early. I met eyes with her, and she looked at me in terror as if a giant alien was growing out of the top of my head.

As I leaned on the wall, waiting, feeling Henry trying peak out, I could not believe the brief conversation I heard between Neal and the admissions attendent.

Attendent: Is she in labor?
Neal: (exasperated) Yes!!!!
Attendent: Is she pre-registered?
Neal: Yes!!!
Attendent (as she picks up the phone to contact a nurse): We've got one on the wall out here.

Yep, that was me. The one on the wall who was obviously in serious LABOR. Had I not been pre-registered, would they have really made me fill out the paperwork before giving birth?

They immediately sent me back to the triage area sans Neal, which totally pissed me off. Our plan was for him to never leave my side during this process because he was the only one who knew that I wanted a natural childbirth. He was supposed to be able to hold my hand and coach me through the whole thing. But they would not let him go back with me initially in order to protect the privacy of other patients (that were nonexistent) in the triage area.

Crouched over, expecting this baby to plop out on the floor in moment, I made my way to the triage area. Almost crawling back to the area on my own, a nurse met me in the hall to help. She began to ask me a few questions and took me into a small curtained room. Then she told me to take off my pants so she could assess how far along this labor had actually gotten me. All I could do was just stand there, crouched over, and whisper, "I can't." I just couldn't do it. It hurt too bad. I think I told her that much because she calmly reminded me that I could not give birth with my pants on. I rolled over onto the bed, and the saint/nurse helped me out of my pants. She took a brief look and then immediately called for another nurse to help wheel me to a room. I heard some words like "100%" and "fully dilated" and had brief moment of excitement because I knew I'd meet my son soon. I was also so out of it from the excitement and the pain that it was hard to tell what exactly was going on around me.

They wheeled me quickly through the hall toward a room, and the breeze created by their swiftness cooled my face and I briefly relaxed. Then I remembered why I was there. I suddenly started calling out for Neal. I was afraid they had forgotten him! We finally got to a room when suddenly, the rolling bed came to a screeching hault. They had taken me to a room that had not been cleaned yet. They made a quick U-turn and rolled me down another hall (more cool breeze) and finally to a nice fresh room. At this point, there were still no signs of Neal. They immediately got me on the birthing bed and told me to start pushing. Everything was happening so fast that I found it impossible to focus.

Finally, I saw Neal standing on the sidelines, but unfortunately, that did not help my ability to focus. It just hurt so bad! My efforts to push were ridiculous. I could feel the doctor pulling at my skin, and afraid of an epesyotomy, I screamed at her, "What are you doing to me?!" She calmly told me that she was trying to stretch my skin to avoid tearing. (Oh, thanks! To this day, I still feel guilty for yelling at the woman who was trying to help me.) At that moment, my fears were waning, and I began to regain a sense of focus and confidence. The nurse to my left must have seen it in my eyes, and she said four little words that helped turn things around - "You can do this." I never EVER thought I wanted to hear a nurse chanting in my ear while I was trying to give birth. But at that moment, her soft yet stern words helped me focus and I suddenly became conscious again of what I needed to do.

I began to push from the depths of my soul, and I could feel that things were starting to move along. I could feel the baby's head crowning, what I had read about as the ring of fire. I think I even said those words to myself when I felt it, and boy, is it appropriate. Moments later, I gave a push and Henry's head was out. Then another that pushed out his shoulders, and I felt an instant relief from the pain. Within seconds, he was laying on my belly, peering up at me. The time was 1:33, less than 15 minutes from our arrival at the hospital. I was on such a high!

After a few moments of cuddling, the nurses plucked him away to be wiped down, cord cut, weighed and pricked. I had gestational diabetes during this pregnancy, and the protocol is for the baby to be pricked on the heel 7 times during the first 24 hours to test his blood sugar levels (fortunately, his levels were fine on the first 3 pricks, so our pediatrician ordered them to quit pricking him early the next day). Also during that time was the delivery of the placenta and the oh so painful stitches. That was one part of natural childbirth that I was not prepared for. I remembered getting stiches with Charlie, and I hardly felt it because of the eipdural. This time, it was more than uncomfortable. More than anything, though, it was just unexpected, which probably made it feel worse than it was.

After their work was done, I was able to hold Henry again and try to nurse. Since Charlie was a premie, I never got the chance to initiate breastfeeding immediately after his birth, so this moment was super sweet and much anticipated. I had a slight fear that he wouldn't latch on, but this boy was an instant champ at breastfeeding! He knew just what to do, and I will remember that sweet moment for the rest of my life.

During this time, my mother and mother-in-law came in. My mom had practically followed us up to the maternity floor, but when she got to the admissions station, they told her I had already had the baby. What? She could not believe that it had happened so fast. Even the nurse joked that I had planned it this way, meaning that I waited until the last possible minute to go to the hospital to avoid having to spend much of my labor there. In fact, I did plan it that way, but my plans fell by the wayside when Henry came barrelling into the world without much notice.

Around 3:00 a.m., we decided to get some rest. I was still on such a high, though, it was hard to sleep. The next day, my mom came back with Charlie who was so ecstatic that he had a new baby. His first words were, "He came out!" It was so wonderful to see him snuggle next to Henry and truly be happy to have him join our family. Later, Charlie went to school, and Neal went to work to finalize some things before taking a short leave. I decided to go on a walk about the maternity floor. I remember pushing Henry in the hospital pram and feeling so invigorated! I can't remember feeling so strong and good about myself. It was so different from my experience with Charlie after being bedridden on magnesium for two days and then dosed with pitosin and an epidural.

Now Henry is 16 months old, and I cannot believe how much he has grown and developed. Before too long, he'll be talking back to my like his brother does and will eventually be begging me to let him drive. Ach! But I will always have the beautiful memory of his birth. Thank you, Henry, for giving me the birth experience I hoped for.

Happy holidays!

2009-12-19T11:10:00.008-06:00

Today You Are One

2009-09-17T22:35:00.000-05:00

It is hard to believe that at this moment one year ago I was lying in the hospital resting and feeling triumphant about your speedy and drug-free birth. I was probably breastfeeding you or just staring at you in awe. You were so perfect from your smushed little nose to your to your tiny toes, and I have never felt so alive as I did at that moment.

Today you are one year old, and I can hardly stand how fast this year has flown by. You have gone from a tiny 6 lb baby to one that seemed gargantuan to one who is now just right. You started out life as a dream of a sleeper but then turned on us and slept only sporadically, waking frequently and for long stretches each night. At one, you are finally settling into a better sleep routine and we thank you. We really thank you.

You were born a calm, sweet, and cuddly baby, and over the year you have not only remained so but have become even more sweet and cuddly. Your hugs can warm even the coldest person’s heart and your smiles can spread cheer to the grumpiest of souls.

You have yet to say any identifiable words and you still lack mobility on your feet. Just like your brother, you refuse to crawl in the traditional sense and instead scoot like an orangutan on your bottom with one leg extended and the other bent with your foot on the ground for support. You have one of the heartiest appetites I have ever seen in a baby. When we gave you your first real table food, you looked at us in a way that said, “Finally!” You eat almost anything we put in front of you, and you polish it off in record time. We are constantly amazed at how fast you eat. We put food on your tray, turn around for maybe ten seconds, and when we turn around again, POOF! The food is gone. I do not look forward to our grocery bill when you are a teenager.

When I watch you play with your big brother, I am delighted to see how in love you are with him. You love to touch him, follow him, and mimic him. You adore Charlie, and when he comes into the room, your face lights up and you smile. When he cries, you are genuinely concerned and will scoot back to his room to make sure everything is okay. I look forward to watching your relationship develop, and I hope that you will be best friends for life.

Henry, when I look at you now, I no longer see a baby. I instead see a little boy who is growing up way too fast before my eyes. I feel lucky to have been able to spend so much time with you this year, but I wish time could slow down, if not for only a little while, so I can enjoy you as a baby for a bit longer. But no matter what, you will always be my baby. Happy Birthday my sweet Henry!

Camping in Arkansas

2009-08-02T09:49:00.000-05:00

A long, long time ago back in April, on Easter weekend in fact, we decided to take Charlie camping. Henry, still an uncertain sleeper, stayed in Memphis with his grandmother. Neal, Charlie, the dogs, and I headed west to Petit Jean State Park in Arkansas. We did a little research before our trip because we had certain criteria - a short drive, an easy pull-up car campsite, bathrooms, short hikes, and some sort of natural entertainment (if it had just been Neal and I going, all we would have needed was a campsite and hiking). Petit Jean more than met our needs with several hiking options with fantastic rewards at the end of the hikes like waterfalls and caves. My favorite hike was the Rock House Cave Trail, which took us first along a rock bed with hills of rocks that looked like enormous turtle shells. The short hike ended at the Rock House Cave. Walking toward the "cave," I got a sneaking suspicion that I had been there before.

Looking at the "cave" paintings and watching Charlie climb on rocks and kick the dust around, I recalled a time when my parents took my sister and I (around ages 13 and 10 at the time) on a two week camping trip with family friends. We drove from state park to state park across Arkansas and camped out every night. My sister was miserable the whole time. What no television? No air conditioning? My father probably wondered how my mother ever talked him into such a trip. And our travel companions probably wished they had not invited this unseasoned family along. I remember the make-shift shower that my father made, so my prissy sister would not have to shower in a public bathroom. Instead, she opted to stand outside with garbage bags draped around trees to hide her naked body with a giant plastic container of COLD water pouring over her head. Because it was cleaner.

Another incident occured one evening after dinner. While my sister, the daughter of our travel companions and I compared sit-up techniques, we heard our mothers fretting over something. My sister and Mary went outside the tent to see what was happening. I waited for them to come back and moments later I heard screams come from outside the tent. I bolted out curious and afraid. Instead of witnessing some terrible accident, I found my mother, my sister, Mrs. J. and Mary standing on top of the picnic table clutching each other tightly, shivering with fear. They had spotted a skunk. A skunk. A skunk made them leap in unison to the tabletop. Fortunately, their screams scared the skunk just enough to make him retreat into the woods rather than spray us with a foul odor in defense.

I also remember spending time with my father among some splendid natural surroundings. Although I know he did not have a wonderful time on that trip spent with a bunch of girls who were way out of their element, he does know how to appreciate the simple things and the beauty that we explored. I also remember jumping along rocks, hiking through the woods, and seeing some serious water falls.

That was the first and last camping trip my family ever went on. Somehow though, that trip stuck with me and I have loved to go camping ever since. I love the simplicity of sleeping in a tent and cooking food over a fire that I built. I love sitting by the campfire at night with no music or television, but just time to talk, share stories, and reflect on the way we live our lives at home. Some of the best conversations Neal and I have had have occurred while keeping warm by the campfire. I love the minimal amount of stuff needed to get through the day. I love the fun of getting dirty without worry.

Our most recent camping experience was a few weeks ago at Village Creek State Park in Arkansas. We took Henry along for this one night camp out hoping to gently introduce Henry to camping. The park was very nice but completely empty. We later found out that no one was there because of a recent accident involving a man from Memphis who went missing while kayaking on Lake Austell. Neal and I were sad to hear such news but we soldiered on.

The weather was nice but the bugs were awful. I doused myself in Deep Woods Off and almost made myself sick from the fumes. Wanting to protect the young ones from the fumes, we dressed them in long sleeves and pants and gave them a light mist of a spray with a lower deet content. The boys did fabulously well. I think Henry was the only one who actually slept well that night, nuzzeled between Neal and I. We went on a couple of nice short hikes, which proved to be a smart decision since one of us had to carry Henry in a sling (he's a big boy!). It was a decent trip at best, but nothing close to the camping Neal and I long for like we used to do in the Adirondacks. One day, maybe...

I hope that I will be able to share more camping experiences with my boys in the years to come. Charlie has now been on three camping trips, Henry one. We will eventually (and hopefully) brave a camping trip in which we hike to our campsite sometime when the boys will be willing to schlep some of the gear and, oh yeah, actually walk without whining for us to carry them. I may be waiting on that trip for a while, but it's fun to dream.

Roses

2009-05-10T13:23:00.005-05:00

One of the things I love about spring is the magnificent blooms in our rose garden. I can't take credit for them, but the previous woman of our house (of 30+ years) was a dedicated gardener. And fortunately, she left at least 10 rose bushes in perfect condition. They are remarkably easy to care for and produce blooms month after month from May to September. I sometimes hope she drives by her old home to admires her work and is happy that we have cared enough to take care of them.

Birthday Boy

2009-05-10T12:08:00.011-05:00

Charlie celebrated his third birthday last Friday. I thought it fitting to write about the occasion on Mother's Day while everyone in the house is taking a nap. Yea!

First of all, I hoped that Charlie would wake up on his third birthday fully potty-trained and completely free of all of the behavior issues we've been dealing with over the past year. Nope. Nothing. In fact, I think he spent most of the day at school sitting on the naughty bench. Maybe he peaked on his third birthday, and we'll start moving down the slope toward a happy, well-behaved child by the age of four. Is that too optimistic?

On Friday, he participated in the around the world birthday tradition at his school. All of the students gather in a circle to watch the birthday boy or girl travel around the sun while holding the earth. Technically, you are only supposed to go around the sun the number of years you are. If Charlie's rotations around the sun mean anything, he would be about 20 right now. He enjoyed getting to take part in this ceremony and definitely liked all of the attention, unlike last year. After walking around the sun, he got to show his friends and schoolmates pictures of his life up until the age of three. That part was awesome.

That evening, we took Charlie to his favorite restaurant - El Mezcal (or El Moo-cow in Charlie-ese). He got the royal birthday treatment with the sombrero, a birthday song in Spanish, and a GIANT bowl of ice cream that I was sure he would not be able to finish. He did.

On Saturday, we had planned a very low-key inexpensive birthday party for him, his schoolmates, and friends. We had planned a park party in Overton Park. I mean, what 3 year-old thinks he's getting jipped by getting to spend the day in the park with 30 of his closest pals? For free? Unfortunately, we had rain the entire weekend, so we had to cancel the party. I should have known better than to plan an outdoor party (with no rain plan) on the same weekend as Musicfest. Duh!

A lot of parents of the kids invited seemed to be surprised that I did not want to reschedule or take all of the kids to some indoor location. But please, the kid is only three. It's not like I crushed all of hopes and dreams by cancelling his party. He will have plenty of years ahead (that he will actually remember) to have more elaborate birthday celebrations. I also don't have the money for an alternative indoor location. After the food, cupcakes, and cheap party favors, I had already spent more money than I wanted to. I am relishing the time that have left that I can get away with being a cheapskate for my child's birthday. Besides, Charlie got to have an extra special day in spite of us cancelling the party. He got to have his first ever playdate.

His BFF from school came over for a few hours. And boy did they play! At first, we weren't sure what to do with them, it being our first play date and all. Do we play with them? Do we leave them alone? We opted to let them hang out in Charlie's room for a while and test the waters. After a minute or two, we heard the two of them giggling in Charlie's room. I checked on them and they were totally fine and perfectly happy dragging out every toy Charlie has ever owned. Twenty minutes later, they were ready to lick the icing off of the birthday cupcakes.

My dad and sister also came by to wish Charlie a happy birthday and brought "presidents" for Charlie to open. So he had a great day after all.

(And to all the parents out there who thought it was odd that I requested you not bring gifts to his party - again, he's only 3. And my house is only so big that I cannot spare one more corner to house all of the toys that Charlie owns. I can assure you that I am not one of those hardcore anti-material parents who does not allow my son to have toys. He got plenty of presents from us, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and friends. He was well lavished.)

Happy birthday my beautiful boy! I hope you had a wonderful third birthday!

Otto

2009-05-09T22:04:00.001-05:00

The Silver Lining

2009-03-21T11:40:00.004-06:00

I have a job!

In a weird twist of events, one of the teachers at Charlie’s school left. To help the transition, the woman who worked in the office went upstairs to help in the classroom, thus leaving a position open for someone to work in the office. Thanks to Stacey’s recommendation, I immediately contacted the director of the school last Monday and started working there on Tuesday.

Working at Charlie’s schools is, let’s say, interesting. At the beginning, it confused him. “Why are you working at my school?” he repeatedly asked on the way in on Tuesday. Throughout the day, he frequently popped by the office to say “Hi Mommy” and make sure I was still there. By Thursday, he was ready to spend the day with me in the office in my lap. By Friday, though, he finally warmed to the idea and understood that Mommy is working and he has to stay in his class. Once we got that taken care of, Spring Break arrived - just in time for our routine to be disrupted. So, I expect we will begin the process again on Monday.

I have to say that in any other circumstance, I would not like this job. I am doing basic office work, it is fairly disorganized, and the pay is low. The fact that it is (hopefully) temporary and that I get to spend more time with Charlie makes up for all of its flaws, though. I love being able to check in on him throughout the day. I am also excited to see what goes on in the school, learning about the Montessori method and getting know the happenings in the elementary classrooms. The people I work with are super-cool and laid back. It is a great atmosphere and I feel lucky to have found such a nice solution to my unemployment. Another plus is that I can take Henry to work with me. I probably won’t take him every day, but certainly 2-3 days a week. I am planning a trial run with him on Monday. Hopefully, he will continue to be his chilled out little self and I’ll actually be able to get some things done.

Aside from being with Charlie, my favorite part of last week was getting to participate in the elementary class’ Favorite Food Friday. The theme was round food and each elementary student brought in something round to eat. We had a feast! Some of the dishes included quiche, melon balls, bagels, and pie for dessert. There was so much food and the kids seemed to have a great time serving it. They were all so proud of their dishes and wanted me to try everything.

If everything works out, I’ll be able work there through the summer and begin teaching in a city or county school in the fall. And then it will be back to the grind of flying out the door in the mornings and rushing, rushing, RUSHING to get things done in the evenings so we can all get to bed so we can wake up and do it all over again. I happily embrace my current situation for now.

Please hire me

2009-03-06T10:32:00.002-06:00

While on maternity leave last fall, I decided to make some positive changes in my life. First on the list was getting all of my information (resume, applications, special “forms”) together for the lengthy process of applying for teaching positions in our area public schools. This is something I have been working toward for the past year and what better time to go through all the legwork than when the new baby is sleeping?

Five weeks ago, I got a call from a principal at a very good high school in Memphis. One of his teachers was leaving the school to take a new job at a different school. Thus, he had an opening and wanted to interview me. The interview was wonderful! I have never felt so good about an interview, and this opportunity seemed to be a perfect fit.

A few days later, the principal called me and offered me the job teaching 9th grade English. I quickly completed the necessary paperwork and faxed it off to the school system’s human resources department. I was then told to wait. Thinking that this position would surely begin in the coming weeks, I turned in my notice at my current job. I wanted to be ready to go once everything was in place.

And then I waited. And waited. And I heard nothing. Two weeks went by, and I worked my last day at my previous job. I thought that I would for sure hear something during that first week of my unemployment. That first week went by in a blur due to the passing of my wonderful grandmother. I felt that not hearing anything was a sort of blessing from somewhere because I was able to be with my mom during such a difficult time. Then, week two rolled around and I continued to wait. I called the human resources office repeatedly and got the same report over and over again – “Your paperwork is ready. We just have to wait for the deputy superintendent to sign off on it. There should be no problems. He is just really busy.” I patiently waited and tried not to worry.

Then came week three. On Wednesday of this week I got a call from the principal of the school at which I expected to begin work any day. He reported that because of budget issues in the school system, all new positions have been frozen. Thus, the teacher who planned to leave to start a new job (as in a newly established position) was not leaving, leaving me with no position to fill. And now I am out of a job. And no one from the human resources office has bothered to call me.

I feel like an idiot for quitting my job in the first place. I should have known better. This is, after all, a school system that is not praised for its fiscal successes, among other things. I should have at least waited until I signed a contract. I should have expected the possibility that things might not go smoothly. I should have been smarter about the whole thing. In my excitement to continue on with career of choice, a career in which I can hopefully make a positive impact, I completely screwed up. In a time when our economy is depressed and when thousands of people are losing their jobs by no fault of their own, I am the dingbat who quit her perfectly fine job. And now, I am left scrambling, hoping, and sort of praying that I will find the silver lining.

While being a stay at home mom for the past three weeks has been nice in many ways, I need a job. There’s only so much laundry, cleaning, and cooking I can do to distract me from the fact that our bank account is dwindling down farther and farther by the minute. On that note, is there anyone out there looking for someone who is willing to start yesterday?

Qualifications:

Certified in the State of Tennessee to teach English grades 7-12 and English as a Second Language
Experience with writing grant proposals and sales proposals, managing grant budgets, managing an office
Works well under pressure and deadlines. Usually makes sound decisions except when is unknowingly about to get denied by potential employer
Willing to do almost anything!

Old Forest Trail

2009-01-21T16:09:00.007-06:00

Sunday morning I woke with big plans to participate in one of Citizens to Preserve Overton Park’s regular nature hikes on the Old Forest Trail. I was itching to get outdoors and to find a way for Charlie to burn of some steam at the same time. We got everyone up, fed, and dressed. And then I checked the website to confirm the time. Oops. Wrong weekend. The hike is scheduled for this Sunday, January 25. I was a week early. We decided to go on our own hike in the park anyway because the weather was just too nice.

It was a cool and sunny day and the trail was nice and dry because unfortunately, we haven’t seen much rain since January 5. The lighting while on the trail was amazing. All the leaves sparkled and the sky was the perfect blue.

Ahhh…I love the great outdoors. Every time I hike on this trail I am inspired to go camping. Maybe I’ll summon up the courage to take an almost 3 year old and an under 1 year old this spring.

Belated December Recap and Happy New Year

2009-01-14T16:38:00.013-06:00

I don’t typically make New Year’s resolutions. Sure, there’s the usual declaration to be healthier, lose weight, blah, blah, blah. But this year, I decided to forgo any official resolution except for one thing – to try to be a more positive person overall. This spurs from the fact that I have spent much of my life yearning for something that I don’t have, whether it’s my dream job, more time to explore my latent creative side, less debt, etc. Instead of constantly wondering “what if” or thinking about what I don’t have or what I think I need, I plan to focus on those things that I am fortunate enough to have – a wonderful healthy family, a precious yet gargantuan baby, a 2 ½ year old who makes me laugh several times a day, a loving and dedicated husband, a roof over my head, a refrigerator holding food that can feed more than a family of four, a sense of security, a never-ending desire to learn and explore the world, and a little left over for a bottle of wine now and then. And this is the short list. I think I’ve got it pretty good after all.

In honor of my sunnier outlook, I’d like to recap all of the wonderful activities that took place in December.

Charlie attended his first ever parade. We went to the Germantown Holiday Parade and had a fantastic time waving at the floats going by and catching the excessive amounts of candy being thrown from the floats. My favorite part of any parade, though, is the marching bands. I just love to watch these kids play their hearts out and something about the beat of the drums and the sheer volume of it all always give me chills and makes me a little emotional. Weird, but I find marching bands moving. Even at football games, the half-time show always gets me a little choked up. Charlie, on the other hand, got his groove on as the music passed us by.

We also enjoyed a nice – ahem – relaxing day of putting up the Christmas tree. The boys exhausted themselves posing in the Santa hat and trying not to break the glass ornaments. Charlie entertained us with a concert on his “trumpet,” a.k.a. the finial that goes on top of the Christmas tree.

Charlie also performed in his first ever Christmas play. It was absolutely adorable and my thanks go out to Miss Melissa at Evergreen Montessori for putting the whole thing together. I was fortunate enough to be a chauffeur on rehearsal day, and I got to see the pains that go into organizing and managing a production like this. From my perspective, the rehearsal looked like complete chaos and I wondered how they would be able to pull it off on the night of the show. But by the magic dust that I believe Evergreen teachers must have in their arsenals, the production was superb. The kids did a terrific job and I was so proud that Charlie had no qualms about boogying down on the stage. Some of the other kids had a little stage-fright (as would I in that situation), but once Charlie saw me, he started swaying and shaking his booty to the music. He elicited much laughter from the audience, and it made me a little giddy that my kid is such a ham. Where on earth did that gene come from? Unfortunately, that night I came to terms with the fact that my camera is just absolutely useless indoors without extremely bright lights, so none of my pictures are even remotely pleasing.

Charlie was also in awe at the numerous treats he was allowed to ingest during the holiday season. I already mentioned the candy from the parade. He also enjoyed an assortment of Christmas cookies, one of my favorite holiday traditions. This year I made my all-time favorites, bittersweet chocolate cookies with hazelnuts. I also made standard sugar cookies cut into holiday shapes decorated with various shades of sanding sugar. We also enjoyed glittering lemon sandwich cookies from Gourmet Magazine’s annual cookie edition. Y.U.M.M.Y.! Charlie particularly enjoyed daily hot chocolate with a candy cane stirrer. Or, as Charlie pronounces it, “candy can.”

During the month of December, Henry decided to grace us with an abundance of smiles. He has the sweetest little grin that just makes me melt all over.

On Christmas Eve, we went to two separate households – my brother in-law’s and my parents. At my parents’ house, Santa (a.k.a. the neighbor across the street) made an appearance for all of the little ones present. I feared that Charlie might find him a little scary, but he was actually quite happy to sit on Santa’s lap and impress him in hopes of receiving gifts the next day. When I asked Charlie what he thought of Santa’s visit, he said, “He’s soft. And squishy.”

We spent Christmas day at our house with no commitments or plans to go anywhere. That’s just the way we wanted it, and it was lovely. Henry, of course, slept through most of Christmas morning. For Charlie, the experience was entirely different. This was the first year that he understood that Santa would come and bring him presents, so he was very excited.

When he got up on Christmas morning, he tentatively walked into the den. When he saw all of the presents under the tree, he gasped as if he did not believe us all along when we said Santa would bring him presents. Santa wrapped most of the presents, but he left out the super-cool garbage truck (our son has a slight obsession with garbage trucks). When he saw it, Charlie gasped again and said, “He brought me a truck!” And then he meekly asked in a soft scratchy morning voice, “Can I play with it?” Scrumptiously adorable! Henry was, of course, jazzed by all the toys that rattle and that he will eventually be able to chew on.

And finally, my favorite Charlie phrases of the holiday season…

“I think he likes me!”
(Stated after he opened half of his Santa gifts and at various times after Henry has smiled at Charlie)

When asked what Santa was going to bring him for Christmas...
"Santa’s bringing me presidents!”

Indeed he is.

Update

2009-01-06T11:21:00.001-06:00

I obviously took a massive break from updating the blog while on maternity leave. It’s amazing how easy it is to ignore the Internet when I don’t have to sit in front of a computer all day. So, here’s the long overdue update and my reluctant step back into the cyber world and work.

I went back to work yesterday after a much too short maternity leave. I can’t say that I am completely heart-broken about leaving my baby and coming back. I am grateful to get back into the real world and out of my baby haze. I am happy to have a reason to get showered and dressed each day, and I am happy to have more routine back in my life. Unfortunately, getting back into that routine means getting back into the daily rush and grind of a working person’s life. I am not happy about that feeling of never having enough time and always having to think three steps ahead of where I am so I don’t completely drop the ball. But, c’est la vie. I’m sure I will get better at it as time goes on. It’s just such a shock to my system right now.

Work is just as I left it. It was nice to learn that I was sorely missed by my bosses, and it was terribly easy to slip back into my desk and my role here in this office. Being back at my desk for only a day, however, is a clear reminder that I need to move on. I need a bit more than what this position offers and I am looking forward to going back to teaching. My biggest fear right now is that the Memphis City Schools might tank and I won’t be able to get a job. I am keeping my fingers crossed.

Henry and Charlie are both doing great. Charlie is definitely enjoying being a big brother. He loves to touch Henry and constantly wants to kiss his head. Henry, who would be a perfect baby if he would just sleep through the night, just smiles and giggles at Charlie every time he comes near. And Charlie, of course, gets excited when Henry smiles at him. He says things like, “He’s smiling!” “He likes me!” “He’s happy!” “He’s my best friend!” I just hope this brotherly love continues when Henry wants to play with Charlie’s toys.

Henry, as I’ve said, is an almost perfect baby. When he fusses, he is very easily soothed – unlike Charlie who went through a several week phase of screaming non-stop between the hours of 3:00 and 7:00 p.m. every day. When Henry cries, he almost does it politely. He wails just enough to be heard, but most of the time, when he realizes that you are working toward what he wants (milk, pacifier, sleep, attention), he stops and smiles. The not so perfect part of Henry is his inconsistent sleep pattern. For a long stretch, he slept through the night, allowing the rest of the family to catch up on much needed rest. But for the past week, he has woken up in the wee hours of the morning screaming, jolting everyone else in our small house awake and keeping us that way for almost an hour each time (if not longer). At this point, I refuse to give up hope that he will stop these sporadic awakenings, but the sleep deprivation is starting to get the best of me.

We suffered a nasty cold over the holidays which somehow began with Henry. He slept straight through almost 3 days and then ended up with his first ear infection. Then the cold moved on to Charlie who had a fever and runny nose for two days. And finally, it made its way to me. On Christmas morning, I woke with cold symptoms that continued to get worse and worse over the weekend. I finally went to the doctor when I woke up Monday morning with pain in my cheekbones and teeth. Ahhh…I had a nasty sinus infection. Fortunately, I was over the hump in time to celebrate New Year’s Eve like a 22 year old. Miraculously, Neal was able to dodge the illness altogether.

I think this is the best I can do for the obligatory update post. I hope my next installment will feature Christmas photos and my favorite Charlie phrases about the holidays. After that, I plan to be as random as usual.

Maternity Leave So Far

2008-11-13T10:49:00.005-06:00

Not so great things about this maternity leave so far…

1. Two days after I birthed Henry, my mom was diagnosed with endometrial cancer. She had a super high tech robotic hysterectomy and is recovering very well. Her doctors have given her the all clear, so no more treatment is needed (and no more cancer is lurking inside her).

2. My grandmother had to be moved into a nursing home. She is 92 and is the most stubborn independent person I know. She was moved there because she lives on her own and began having spells of panic and dementia. Once moved, doctors discovered that she had a fracture in her back and in her pelvis. With all that pain, no wonder she was in a state of panic! She is also recovering well but hates being away from her home. Unfortunately, she won’t be able to ever live alone again.

3. I got an abscess in my breast. Apparently, when you have a clogged milk duct, you should never take it lightly. Clogged milk ducts are the one thing I actually did obsess over in the beginning with breast feeding. Two weeks into Henry’s life, I got a breast infection from a clogged milk duct that sent me to bed for a day and a half with body aches and fever. After that, I was in a constant state of worry that it would happen again. And it did. And I did not understand the magnitude of what was about to hit. I went to my post partum visit with my doctor and pointed out the increasing mass in my breast. After a very painful mammogram and less painful ultrasound, doctors determined that I had a large abscess in my breast that needed to be drained immediately. One doctor mentioned the possibility of surgery, which sent me reeling in fear. Oddly enough, I had no other symptoms. The following day, I went to a breast surgeon who said that the abcess was due to a ruptured milk duct that leaked milk into breast tissue. The milk then sat there for over a week and grew a nice nasty infection. The doctor was fortunately able to drain it in his office. It was absolutely disgusting but I am well on the way to recovery with a drainage tube still in my breast and some serious antibiotics pumping through my system.

The best thing about maternity leave so far…

And almost just as wonderful is that he has slept through the night 2 nights this week without any prodding or neglect from me or the Professor.

Barack-On!

2008-11-05T22:08:00.002-06:00

Five times I've cried in the past two days that have little to do with hormones or sleep deprivation...

1. When I cast my ballot for Barack Obama.

2. When Barack Obama won the election.

3. When the administrator at Howard University was speechless and in tears when CNN (or ABC?) tried to ask her how she felt about the election.

4. When the students said the Pledge of Allegiance this morning at the school where I’m doing my ESL practicum. “One nation…indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” It had a MUCH nicer ring to it today.

6. When I listened to a voicemail from my very Republican sister who said that she really enjoyed Obama's speech last night and that she is looking forward to having him as our president.

Henry

2008-10-27T06:30:00.009-06:00

Wednesday, September 17 (sometime between 1:33 and 2:00 a.m.)

It’s been over 6 weeks since my last post. I haven’t posted for several reasons, the most of important of which is the arrival of our newest family member, Henry. He’ll be six weeks old on Wednesday at 1:33 a.m.

Wednesday, September 17 - Charlie's first cuddle with Henry. When he first saw his baby brother, he yelled with excitment, "He came out!"

Above is Charlie's attempt to "play Elmo" with Henry.

First day

2008-09-05T10:51:00.000-05:00

Charlie went back to school on Tuesday. Initially, he was very excited. He talked about the friends he would see and the things he would do during the entire trip to school. When we got close, he said, “I see it! There’s my school!” It made me feel so happy that he was looking forward to it. I, too, was looking forward to him going back and getting back into a routine. Not that spending time with grandmothers was a bad thing during that week where school was closed but Mommy and Daddy had to work. I think, though, like most kids, he just does better when he has a routine and knows what to expect.

When we arrived at the school, his smiles and giggles immediately turned into whimpers and tears. We walked into the building and said hello to his teachers, we put his things away, and walked him to the classroom. My poor baby could not take it. Even though he had been spending his days there only a month before, he was not prepared for this departure. Finally, we tried to shuffle him off into the kitchen where other kids were reading books and playing while waiting for everyone to arrive. He looked at me with a quivering lip and red, red eyes and said with a shaky voice, “Bye, Mommy,” and gave me a great big hug. He held it together long enough for me to kiss him goodbye and make my way toward the door. Not two steps down the hall, I heard him lose it and turned to watch Miss M. scoop up my baby and try to comfort him. He tried so hard to be brave, but he just couldn’t keep it together. I’m glad he tried and at least held on long enough until I walked away. Otherwise, I would have started crying right there with him. I managed to hold back my tears until I got to the car.

When we picked him up at the end of the day, he was a happy boy, full of stories to tell about his adventures at school. I asked him about friends from the previous year and he was so excited to tell me about how he played with D., D., C., and G. He also told us in a sing-song voice about how he got to play “in the saaaaaand, on the swiiiinnng, on the plaaaaygrounnnd.” When I asked if he likes his new teacher, Ms. F., he said, “Yeah. She’s pretty.”

While we have continued to have tears accompanied by lots of sweet goodbye kisses at each morning departure, we also have happy stories at the end of each day. The morning commute is also full of anticipation about going to school, so I’m sure we will soon be mostly rid of the tearful goodbyes. He will probably even forbid us to even walk him into the school. I can just see it now - my 2 year old will give his favorite instructions, “You stay here. I do it myself.”

A bit of a rant

2008-08-27T11:30:00.001-05:00

I am really getting sick of all the comments that certain people that I spend most of my waking days with continually make about my upcoming maternity leave. It is nice to know that I will be missed, but the underlying guilt trip within these comments is really starting to get on my hormonal nerves. Yes, it’s cute that you think that no one can do my job as well as I can – even though I am an administrative assistant. Hmph! And no, I don’t think I’ll be checking email regularly and checking your calendars daily to make sure you know what you are supposed to be doing on any given day. I also won’t be setting up a nursery in your office so I can be available to you at the drop of the hat during the workday. It’s nice that you offered to decorate and everything, but really, no thanks. And could you please, please, PLEASE! stop making jokes about how you are in denial about the fact that I will be leaving soon to care for my yet to be born child? PLEASE! It is starting to make me angry because I, on the other hand, am not in denial. I am ready, excited, even thrilled about this short and precious time that I will get to spend with my new baby, and the fact that you keep making jokes about how difficult things are going to be for you is beginning to tarnish my positive attitude while I’m still here.

Thanks for hearing me out. I’m done.

Are you happy now?

2008-08-19T11:38:00.002-05:00

As of late, Charlie is learning the deal about how doing something good makes mommy and daddy happy. Doing something bad does not. So, when he starts acting like a freaky 2-year old and steam starts to burst out of my fiery ears, he understands that he better switch gears fast or he will pay. He will eventually put on his charming face and comply with my request. Next, he will smile sweetly and say, “Are you happy now?” This always makes me giggle.

He doesn’t say it in a sarcastic way, like when, say a certain someone in my house doesn’t listen to my explicit instructions on how to prepare a favorite food and ends up with a gloppy mess. Like, “If you would have listened to me and done what I instructed, then we wouldn’t be in this situation. Are you happy now?” Instead, Charlie truly seems genuinely concerned with my happiness at these particular moments and it often makes me melt.

Last night, when suffering a difficult moment because Daddy would not pick him up because he was graciously making dinner, I put Charlie in my lap to try to comfort him. I held him close while he continuously said, “stop it, mommy!” (another one of his new favorite phrases). He continued to pull away until I decided to reason with the kid. I told him that I just want him to be happy and that it makes me sad when he’s said. After a little coaxing, he finally leaned into me and grabbed my arms to wrap them around him. He nuzzled into my shoulder for a long and cozy hug and asked, “Are you happy now?” And yes, I was very happy.

I want to carry you

2008-08-14T08:54:00.002-05:00

“I want to carry you.” This is what Charlie says when he wants me or the Professor to pick him up. Every time he says this I’m like, “Okay. PLEASE carry me.” He never gets the joke.

This week, I’m feeling doubly pregnant. My late night Olympic viewing is totally cutting into my valuable sleep time. At a time when I’m supposed to focus on resting, I instead am staying up until midnight to watch Michael Phelps kick everyone’s butt and break world record after world record. The "live" gymnastics competitions are the killer, though. I just can't manage to make myself turn the television off when gymnasts are flying through the air and contorting their bodies is such amazing and often disturbing ways.

Also during this “resting” period, the Professor is working diligently to install our new kitchen countertops and backsplash. We are finally getting rid of the old particle board/laminate gold speckled counters accented with rust stains, wine stains, and cigarette burns from probably about 30 years ago. This, of course, is something I have begged to do for the past 3+ years that we have lived in our home. And we finally decided that it’s time to do it 5 weeks before our second child is due to be born. So, by day, the Professor keeps Charlie entertained and works to finish up last minute work projects during Charlie’s naptime (like getting his dissertation published!). By night, I become Charlie’s playmate/feeder/bather/bedtime reader, and the Professor gets to work on those counters! What should have taken only 2-3 days, though, is now going on 6 days because of lack of time and experience. We hope the project will be 100% complete by Friday. Please let the project be 100% complete by Friday because I want my kitchen sink back and I’m exhausted.

I am 35 weeks pregnant and according to my doctor, I could “go any time now” but also according to my doctor, I’ll probably be asking him why I’m still pregnant at 39 weeks. So, I’m just trying to wait patiently and not let every little ache and pain convince me that I’m going into labor. I am excited and nervous, but mostly I’m tired.

I do wish Charlie could carry me around for a change. At least for a little while.

34 Weeks and Fingers Crossed

2008-08-04T16:05:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow I will officially be 34 weeks pregnant. Wednesday will mark the gestational period when I went into the hospital to give birth to Charlie. I went in leaking amniotic fluid at 34 weeks and 1 day and gave birth to him at 34 weeks and 3 days. That day, gestationally, will be this Friday with this pregnancy. Needless to say, I’m freaking out a little bit.

It doesn’t help that I feel much more pregnant this time around at this stage than I did with Charlie. My belly feels bigger and firmer. I am more tired. My body aches in ways I never felt when pregnant with Charlie. It also doesn’t help that I am busy chasing and lifting a 2-year old and it has been consistently 100 degrees outside this week.

I am also freaking out a little bit because we haven’t fully decided on a name, we have not yet completed the little things around the house that we would like to have done before the baby arrives like install new kitchen countertops (are we crazy?!?) and paint Charlie’s room. And we certainly haven’t done things like wash baby clothes or get any of the necessary supplies out of storage and cleaned - things like the car seat. Fortunately, my generous friends and family gave us an enormous stock of disposable chlorine free diapers that I can use until I get around to washing the cloth ones I plan to use most of the time. I am hoping the breast-feeding goes well because my back up bottles and breast pump supplies are not washed and I haven’t even begun studying my breast-feeding guide book. I am definitely ready for this baby to come but time is sneaking away from me. And when I think about how quickly Charlie came into our lives, I get a little nervous about being slapped in the face with that unexpected reality again. My nesting instincts have kicked in, but I just haven’t found the time (or energy) to put them to use.

I do know, however, that I am definitely more prepared this time around. If this little boy decides to make his grand entry into the world sooner than expected, I know I can handle it. He may just have to ride home from the hospital in the nude in a dirty car seat. But in this sweltering Memphis heat, that may not be such a bad thing.

I'm glad he's looking out for me

2008-07-31T09:09:00.001-05:00

As I’m getting out of the car this morning heading in to work:

Me (noticing the goo threatening to escape his nose): Charlie, let’s blow your nose.

He compliantly blows into the tissues. I proceed to wipe his nose.

Me: Charlie, give Mommy a kiss goodbye!

Charlie: Kiss my mouth. Don’t kiss my boogers.

Ewww...!

A Pampered Day

2008-07-21T15:37:00.001-05:00

On Saturday, I was pampered by friends and family in honor of our yet to be named baby. The day began with a frantic call from Stephanie whose plans to host my first ever baby shower were foiled when her air conditioner kicked it in the middle of the night. I think she hit it on the nose when she said, “I’m just not meant to throw a baby shower for you!” (For Charlie’s baby shower, I went into preterm labor the weekend before the scheduled event.) This time, it was an air conditioner motor.

After establishing a Plan B, the Professor, Charlie and I headed to the pool for a morning swim. Our goal was to exhaust Charlie so he would take a nap before the party. We arrive around 10:00 and it was already scorching outside. Thankfully, the YMCA pool was not yet crowded with rambunctious kids. Most of the families there were like us - families with infants and toddlers who had already been up for several hours and were looking at this as a “mid-day swim.” The pampering came into play when the Professor allowed me to swim off in the deep-end lanes to do some laps while he splashed around with Charlie. It was wonderful. It felt SO good to be doing something active yet not be sweating. At 8 months pregnant in the middle of a Memphis July, sweating has become my middle name.

After about an hour or so at the pool, we headed home in time for me to shower, lunch, and bustle off to my prenatal massage, complements of Tiffany and Mark for my birthday. Pat at Spa De Jour totally pampered me with a full-body, hour-long prenatal massage. It was so relaxing. She massaged me from my scalp to the tips of my toes. The experience was great and I definitely plan to go back to that spa. They were super-friendly and warm; I wish I could do that every day or at least every month. Finally, the massage portion of my pampering ended and I had to rush home to get my boys and head to my first ever baby shower.

When we arrived at my mother’s house (our new party location), I was surprised at how many people were there. Even though I helped with the invitation list, I was still a little taken by the number of people who want to help us celebrate our new baby. It was a bit surreal for me, but I am definitely moved by the joy and celebration a new baby can bring. With Charlie and his preterm delivery, everything just happened all at once and Wham! We had a new baby almost 6 weeks before expected. No one was ready, and I never got to go through that phase of really waiting for him. Sure, I was excited about meeting him and more than curious to find out what he looked like. But I was barely on the verge of feeling really pregnant and ready for him when his birthday arrived. So, with this baby shower, which was intentionally planned early, I have been given more than the wonderful gifts that our friends and family showered us with. I have also been given a gift of greater anticipation for our newest addition to the family. Now, just 8 weeks away from my due date (2 ½ weeks away from the point at which Charlie was born), I am trying to focus more this growing baby inside me, and having friends and family come to help me celebrate our new baby before he is born makes it all the sweeter.

Thanks to everyone who helped make my Saturday special! I especially appreciate Tiffany, Stephanie, and my mom, who went to the trouble of making this party a reality. It means a lot.

A great way to spend my lunch hour on a Friday

2008-07-18T16:58:00.002-05:00

This afternoon, I had the great honor of attending a live performance and talk by Mr. Kirk Whalum. He came to campus to give a performance for students working on regional studies projects this summer and I was lucky enough to be invited. He began the show by almost breathlessly playing several songs on his gorgeous saxophone. My, that man has a set of lungs!

He spoke about his life experiences and the boomerang effect Memphis has had on him. A graduate of Melrose High School, he left Memphis for college with no inclination to ever come back. He went to college in Houston and eventually made his way to California working as a musician. He later moved to Paris with his wife and four children where he felt the pull of Memphis calling to him. He said that he realized that Memphis is part of his soul. Sipping coffee in Paris cafes, he heard the sounds of Memphis. He recognized the music Memphis while eating a sandwich in a Parisian bistro. On the Metro, he saw an advertisement for a Rufus Thomas performance. He stated that Memphis was everywhere, and that is when he realized that the sounds and culture of Memphis are part of his soul. After moving back to California from France, he and his wife decided to re-root themselves in Memphis. He said that he was like a boomerang. He was compelled by a force to come back.

Kirk Whalum is one of the coolest people I have ever met. He is a genuinely nice person, he is passionate, he is talented, and he is an inspiration. As he spoke to the students, he reminded them that each one has a gift, that each person has something in the core of his soul that is meant to be shared. He reminded us to take a closer look at the simple things and realize how complex the simple things really are. He reminded me to think about my life in terms of the big picture and not just the day to day routine. I am grateful to people like Kirk Whalum; he is a man who knows what it means to dream and who isn’t afraid to take chances trying to realize his dreams.

He closed the event with a performance of Ruby, Ruby, Ruby, a song dedicated to his wife by the title name. It was beautiful and I can only think how wonderful she must feel to have a husband who can create such moving music, especially a song meant for her.

On a final note, he asked everyone to check out a website for a documentary call Miss HIV. The director of the film is working with him on a documentary. I ask you to check it out as well. It promises to be a very interesting and touching story.

Weekend Rendezvous

2008-07-16T14:33:00.000-05:00

Last weekend the Professor took one last hurrah before baby number 2 comes along. He went to a cabin in East Tennessee with some old college friends to do things that old college fraternity brothers do. I guess this means they drank a lot of beer, played poker, went to a bar or two and acted immature. I’m not asking. When he told me about his plans, I was at first a bit peeved that he was willing to leave his 30 week pregnant wife at home with a very frustratingly ornery two-year old. You see, lately, Charlie has become defiant, whiney, and a bit of a handful. It all started on his second birthday. Since then, we have implemented a few discipline techniques, one involving the naughty stool that we learned about from the one episode of the Supernanny I watched a few months ago. It works, but before my solo weekend with Charlie, we hadn’t quite gotten the point across to Charlie that what we say goes. Getting him to go to the toilet was a nightmare laced with screams and crying and “No! I don’t have to!” even when he had consumed an entire cup of water an hour before. Eating at the dinner table was also filled with whining and “I don’t like that!” and “I want graham crackers!”

Now, I’m not one to force food upon my kid, but I am diligently trying to broaden his palate so that he can enjoy the fruits of our cooking and the occasional night out. I am desperately hoping that he will be an adventurous eater, but it’s really, REALLY difficult not to succumb to his cries at dinner when he doesn’t want to try a bite of fish or, God forbid, mashed potatoes. He’s all “Pretzels! Graham crackers! Yogurt! More milk!” I just don’t have the patience to listen to all that whining while I’m trying to eat. Don’t get me wrong. I do not punish him for not eating. I do punish him for throwing a massive fit at the table if I ask him to take one bite of something before I will give him what he adamantly demands.

So, I was dreading a hormonal weekend alone with Charlie. I envisioned a weekend of either Charlie crying about dinner or me just throwing in the towel and letting him dine on pretzels for dinner while watching yet another episode of “Go Diego Go!” I saw myself begging Charlie to go to the bathroom and I was exhausted just thinking about having to hunch my big whale-belly self over to help him change his wet underwear repeatedly throughout the day. I could hear the multiple “I want Daddy” cries coming my way. I was not looking forward to it and I let the Professor know that he had better be grateful and remember what a loving and generous wife I am.

Then Friday came around. The Professor left around 2:00 for his weekend rendezvous. I picked up Charlie from school at 5:00 and braced myself for the weekend of potential hell that was headed my way. When I got to school, his teacher happily informed me that he had been dry all day. Yea! That gave me a little bit of hope. When we got home, we somehow managed to have dinner at the table without any screams. And miraculously, Charlie did not fight me when I suggested he go to the bathroom. Yes, I had to use the threat of the naughty stool, but it only took one mention of that simple form of punishment to send him running to the bathroom. He happily pulled his stool up to the toilet, announced with excitement “I’m dry!” and swiftly took care of business. This happened over and over again throughout the evening.
On Saturday, we had a wonderful morning with Gammy at the Children’s Museum, and nice lunch at home, a long restful nap, and an evening at the Zoo. I decided to be brave and forgo using any diapers or plastic covers and what do you know, he stayed dry all day long. It was awesome! And we had very few tantrums, all of which were fixed with a mild threat of the naughty stool.

When the Professor came home on Sunday, I was exhausted, but not from having to barter and fight with my two-year old. My exhaustion was due to a truly enjoyable and active weekend with him. I loved spending those two short days with him, playing, singing, dancing, and cuddling. He has always been a sweet little boy, but this weekend, I realized just how sweet he is. Thanks to the waning tantrums, a few gentle discipline measures and a genuinely loveable child, I could not have had more fun with Charlie than I did this weekend.

I love the sand between my toes

2008-07-01T16:25:00.006-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, we headed south for the sand and sea to enjoy a week of laziness in the sun. We went with my parents, my sister, and her two daughters to Ft. Morgan, Alabama, which is basically Gulf Shores but is fortunately, a little more isolated. Charlie had a blast digging in the sand and playing with his cousins. I didn’t expect him to have so much fun doing things like eating popcorn in bed with them, watching cartoons, jumping on beds, and simply chasing each other around the house. I have never seen that kid so excited. We had a wonderful time lazing in the sun, splashing in the waves, and searching for crabs on the beach at night. There’s nothing better than sleeping past 8:00 every day to wake up to a leisurely breakfast to fuel up for a relaxing day by the shore. If only we could have stayed another week…

I hope this is a family tradition we can continue.

A Farmer in My Kitchen

2008-06-03T12:45:00.001-05:00

On Saturday, we received our first farm share from the CSA Farm that we joined (Ohana Farms in Coldwater, MS). Rather than spending $25 on produce each week from Easy Way (much of which comes from far far away places), we decided to put our funds towards a local farmer and reap the benefits of his family’s hard work. And of course, we want to support local agricultural instead of the giant industrial farms that strip the land and use who know what kinds of chemical on our food.

Our booty this week was, well, somewhat limited. Our famer explained that last year, they were eating ripe tomatoes on June 1. This year, because the weather in our region until recently has been cool and rainy, most farms in the area are suffering a bit. Instead of gorgeous juicy red tomatoes, we got turnips and kale. My 6 year old self is saying, “Ick! Turnips and kale? Gross!” [Note: I really do like turnips and kale, but my excitement over the CSA and its possibilities made me revert to my 6 year-old mindset.]

Initially, I was terribly disappointed and even wanted to get a little annoyed with my decision to join the CSA. We paid good money and this is what I get? But then I realized why I wanted to do it in the first place. I want to support the local guy. I want to eat what’s fresh and available instead of expecting plump juicy peaches to magically appear in my kitchen. I wanted to change my food philosophy and habits in hopes to help the environment and better nurture my family. So, I took sour lemons and made lemonade. Barbara Kingsolver would be so proud.

I decided to pull out an old cookbook I bought several years ago when we were living in Rochester and enjoying the city’s weekly (and wonderful) public market. This book, Local Flavors, is one from which I have never really cooked. Surprisingly, it is also mentioned in Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. It’s like I was meant to eat this way. I first looked up turnips and found a delicious recipe for a Turnip Potage. When I told my mother the name of the recipe, she said, “Gross.” But it is actually quite delicious. It’s basically a turnip, potato and leek soup (the potatoes and leeks provided by my local Easy Way). I am pleased to say that even my picky eater, Charlie, enjoyed drinking down a cup.

My next challenge was to find something palatable for the kale. I wanted a meal, not just a side dish, so I opted for a dish of Kale, Beans, Cilantro and Feta (I also threw in the greens from the turnips). When I told my husband the name of the recipe, he said, “Gross.” Again, though, the recipe is really tasty. The cilantro and feta give it a unique twist and after eating a bowl of it last night, I was stuffed. It’s amazing what real food can do for you! Charlie ate a few of the beans but was not too thrilled about the kale. I’ll keep working on him, though!

So here’s to a successful first week of being a part of a CSA. So far, I am pleased with my choice to take part in the partnership, and I especially look forward to seeing what is to come this summer! Now, if I could just break my pregnancy guilty pleasure from the organic ice cream sandwiches that make their way to my freezer all the way from Eugene, Oregon…

Hiking in the Old Forest

2008-06-02T15:44:00.003-05:00

Several weekends ago, the Professor and I had big plans to take Charlie on his first camping trip. After some swift planning, we decided on a presumably kid-friendly car camping spot and planned on leaving early on a Saturday. We decided to keep the trip easy (thus, the car camping), down to one night and close enough to home just in case camping became a miserable experience for Charlie. Unfortunately, our trip got cancelled because there were threats of severe weather in the area. We could deal with a little rain, but predictions of high winds and possible tornados convinced us to postpone our trip.

Fortunately, while checking my personal email on that Saturday morning, I found an invitation from Citizens to Preserve Overton Park to participate in a guided hiking tour of the Old Forest at Overton Park. That’s just what we needed to satisfy our (or my) craving for some kind of outdoor experience. Since Charlie was born (or soon after his conception), our adventurous outdoorsy side has all but disappeared. And I have really missed getting out into nature and experiencing the outdoors.

Upon our almost late arrival to the park, Charlie decided to have a 2 year-old meltdown. He was DETERMINED to hold one of our dogs’ leashes without realizing that each dog at least triples his weight and they have no consideration for his compact size. Thus, for Charlie to hold on to a dog leash means that he will more than likely eat pavement (I've watched it happen before). And of course, he will not allow us to simulate a Charlie dog walking experience (i.e. with one of us actually controlling the leash with Charlie's hand on it). Fortunately, I was able to take him aside and help him stop screaming. He finally calmed down just in time for the hike to begin.

I must say that I really enjoyed the hike and was impressed with how easily I slipped into wilderness mode. I have memories of the Old Forest from my high school years. It was definitely deemed a place that “you didn’t go.” I remember the roadway around it always being flanked with cars with strange men hanging out doing things that I am sure my mother did not want me to even know about. I guess you can say it had a bad reputation.

Now, however, it leaves a different impression on me. It is certainly a place I would feel comfortable going on regular hikes with my son. Even though I had to carry him for a major portion of the hike, Charlie definitely had fun. He enjoyed running up and down the trails, spotting wildlife (we saw a turtle!), climbing over downed trees and visiting the base of a huge hollowed out tree. We learned a lot about the vegetation in the forest and the dogs were extremely grateful for the experience. I am sure the more we hike the trails of the Old Forest, the more we will learn about it and appreciate it. We definitely plan to go back for more.

New Sheetz!

2008-05-16T10:01:00.002-05:00

Last weekend, we procured a twin bed from Tiffany and Mark, who recently decided to live together in sin (finally!) and are in the process of combing two households. Lucky for us, this means getting rid of several items, two of which the Professor and I have gladly agreed to take off their hands.

On Saturday, the Professor picked up the bed in exchange for helping move some of Tiffany’s furniture to her new residence. After we reconfigured Charlie’s room for a couple of what felt like hours, we decided on the best layout for the furniture, which turned out to be the only way the furniture would fit in his tiny room without blocking any necessary doorways to the closet and um, the rest of the house. We still have the crib in there because a) we are prolonging the time when we will have to move it in our already cramped room when baby #2 arrives, and b) we wanted to give Charlie the opportunity to make an easy transition from crib to bed.

On that first day, we decided to buy some new sheets for his “new” bed (I think Mark actually slept on it as a child). During our shopping excursion to buy the sheet set, he excitedly remarked during the entire trip, “New sheets!” Even when I later asked him if he liked his new bed, he screamed, “new sheets!” and proceeded to do a belly flop on the new bed.

As it turns out, Charlie immediately fell in love with his new bed. From the first night, he has slept mostly peacefully in hit, and the Professor and I enjoy being able to stretch out on it with him and read at night. We also enjoy watching him practice his flying leaps and acrobat skills on the new bed. The crib has instantly become storage and a “bed” for his stuffed animals, Kitty, Tiger, Elmo, Baby Elmo, and Dog. He’s so creative with the names, isn’t he?

More party pics

2008-05-15T21:46:00.004-05:00

Charlie's party

2008-05-13T15:09:00.005-05:00

(Photos complements of Chip)

It was so nice having friends and family over to celebrate Charlie’s 2nd birthday. I was totally impressed at how easy it was to entertain 7 children with only a large backyard and a bunch of plastic toys. We set up the tent in hopes of drawing some sort of curiosity, thinking that the kids would at least think it was cool to hang out in a tent for a while. No dice. Most only stepped into the tent to sit for about 3 minutes before fleeing, realizing they might miss their turn with the toy lawn mower or Fred Flintstone car. The best part was watching Charlie lick the icing off of his monkey cupcake. Second to that was spending the afternoon in the backyard and realizing how great our backyard can be when there is a group of people enjoying it together. It was a glorious day and it was especially nice spending it with friends and family in celebration of Charlie.

Thanks to everyone who came by to enjoy the day with us. We are truly privileged to have so many wonderful people in our lives!

Happy 2nd Birthday!

2008-05-02T14:37:00.009-05:00

Yesterday was Charlie’s second birthday. My baby is growing up. Actually, I hardly feel like he’s a baby anymore. Each and every day I notice how he’s evolving into a little boy, and it breaks my heart just a little. I love watching him grow up but I hold those baby days very close. There’s a certain kind of sadness in this passage of time because I know that one day, I won’t be able to cradle him in my arms and cuddle with him like I can now. The funny thing is that now that he is getting bigger, he’s reverted to a constant desire to be held and cuddled like a baby. When he gets out of the tub and I wrap him in a towel, he crawls in my lap and says, “baby,” letting me know he wants me to baby him a little bit. He also does it in the mornings when I spend 5 minutes cuddling with him before getting up for the day. It is sweet but I hope it doesn’t cause problems when his little brother comes along.

For Charlie’s birthday, we had a short celebration at his school. After Charlie and his schoolmates completed the earth around the sun ceremony, we had cupcakes. The kids were so excited and I was surprised at how sweet the older kids were with Charlie. They gave him hugs and told him “happy birthday.” I think they were all excited to see pictures of him as a newborn.

Next, we were off to the zoo to check out the farm animals. We got a chance to pet the baby lambs. They were so sweet and gentle. I think Charlie could have stayed there all afternoon, but we eventually moved on to the cows, goats, and pigs. After our short trip to the zoo, we had dinner and celebrated again with ice cream and a present.

Happy birthday my sweet boy!

Terribly Random

2008-04-08T16:18:00.001-05:00

I am bummed about the Tigers losing the game last night. I thought the Professor was going to jump out of his skin during those last minutes of regulation. The OT was just painful to watch. What is it with those free-throws?

My boss just came in to the office fuming because there are 2 students protesting in the library that the college did not do anything to commemorate April 4. I know these students. They are bright, innovative, and have loads of passion. What I don’t understand is why they cannot see that the college does things throughout the entire year to honor Dr. King. And by the way, we did have a huge event on the morning of April 5 that honored Dr. King. Apparently, 10:00 on a Saturday morning is “not conducive to student schedules.” Whatever.

The Professor and I watched “The Mist” this weekend. This is a film based on a Stephen King novella. When the Professor brought it home, I was a little miffed because scary movies scare the hell out of me. I just couldn’t stand the thought of having to get up for my usual 4:00 a.m. pregnancy bathroom break and be confronted with fears of terrifying creatures looming around dark corners. Well, the movie wasn’t really scary at all, but it was very good. It had a lot of underlying themes that shed commentary on our government and society today. The end totally sucked, though. I won’t spoil it for you but after I watched the last 5 minutes, I was in tears of sadness and rage. I was completely dumbfounded and am still highly affected by this ending.

I told my husband yesterday that I was going to try to be careful about gaining weight during this pregnancy. I’m not off to a good start because
I just ate an entire cheese Danish from a vending machine – something I would never ever eat under normal circumstances.

We bought Charlie a pair of fake Crocs this weekend. We thought they might come in handy when he decides to romp in the giant mud puddles in our backyard (pictures to follow). They will definitely be nice when we head to the beach in June. Once we got them out of the bag, he pointed and said “New shoes! New shoes!” He immediately put them on and refused to take them off. He even insisted on sleeping in them. I’m glad he was willing to part with them for his bath.

Lately, Charlie has been calling the Professor and me by our first names. Last weekend at Target, we decided to split up to make the shopping go faster. The Professor and Charlie were off to fetch diapers, me to peruse the maternity section for some very soon to be needed swimwear (bad selection by the way). I went to our designated meeting place and saw my boys waaaay down at the other end of the store. Seconds later, I saw Charlie poking his head up and down every aisle yelling, “Caaathyyy!” It was so cute. My heart swelled up to the size of a beach ball.

I am still pondering the idea of a home birth for this next baby. I’m not sure if I am a viable candidate since I have had a premature baby. But, since my mother’s first born was premature and her mother’s first born was premature (and they, like me, are the second born in the family), and they both had normal pregnancies thereafter, I’m thinking that this one will be okay. If it’s premature, well, I guess I’ll have to go to the hospital. I think the Professor is wary and a little freaked out that I am even considering this, but something feels right about trying to give birth this way. My next step is a consultation to see if the local midwives will even consider working with me.

I am almost finished with school for the semester. It is killing me to always have an assignment looming over my head. After this semester, I only have to take one more class. And it’s in grammar, which makes me drool with happiness. I can’t wait to be finished and I so look forward to working in a job that I can feel good about. I know it will tiring and often grueling, but the more I work on the business side of things, the more I believe that teaching is the career for me.

If only I could taste the chocolate bunny!

2008-03-27T08:51:00.000-06:00

Our Easter weekend was busy and exhausting. The Palmers spent Friday lazing around the house and romping through the dog park with the dogs. Charlie even attempted to take a swim with the dogs and ended up knee-deep in pond water. Fortunately, he was not bothered by his squishy shoes and wet socks. I can’t wait to take him swimming this summer! I know he’ll love splashing around the pool and the ocean (in June).

Saturday was spent at cousin Taylor’s extravagant birthday party at Build-A-Bear at the Collierville mall. There were 15 kids there and all got to build their own bear! They had a blast, but if this is what kid birthday parties are supposed to be like, Charlie will have to start working now in order to fund his own in the future. I mean, what happened to birthday cake and pin the tale on the donkey? He really did enjoy it, though. He selected a tiger striped cat to stuff and dress. And he has barely let it out of his set (let alone his grasp) since Saturday. He hugs Kitty. He kisses Kitty. He cuddles with Kitty. He even let Kitty take a nap with Charlie’s very own blanket (a.k.a. Bette). He is in love with Kitty. If you were to come over to our house tonight, he just might let you pet Kitty. He will certainly show you Kitty with pride. It even meows. I recently found out that his other cousin, Morgan, Taylor’s sister, will also be having a Build-A-Bear party in April. Woohoo! Charlie will be having his party in May. At my house. With a cake and that’s it. If I’m feeling creative, I might come up with a few games for the handful of kids that will be present.

I spent most of the day at Taylor’s party picking Charlie up, carrying him around, putting him down, and then doing it all over again. By the end of the party, I was exhausted. I suspected that most of the fatigue was due to the growing baby in my belly, but when I got home, I fell asleep within seconds of sitting on the sofa. I rarely take naps. I woke up feeling worse than when I put my head down. I knew it right then that a nasty cold was coming on. (While I’m extremely bummed about the cold and the fatigue, this is SO much better than the way I have been feeling up until last weekend. My days have been spent battling nausea and feeling just completely disgusting since about week 7 of this pregnancy. I’ll take a cold any day over this!)

Sunday morning, I woke feeling pretty lousy with a stuffy nose, sore throat, and watery eyes. I spent much of the day as a blob on the sofa until it was time to go to Nana’s for Easter dinner. We had a nice time. The kids played with their new singing bunnies (complements of Nana) that hopped along to the tune, Here Comes Peter Cotton Tail. We had a lovely dinner and it was fun visiting with everyone. The few hours of festivities totally wore me out, though, and I spent the evening in bed. So much for stuffing myself on all that chocolate I put in Charlie’s Easter basket.

Since Sunday, my cold has gone through various stages: major congestion with lots of nose blowing, severe coughing and sneezing, a moment of thinking I was getting better to today. On Tuesday, I tried to eat a chocolate Easter treat and could not taste anything. What a waste. Today, I feel a little better and most of the symptoms have eased but I have no voice. I tried to call someone on the phone this morning and when I spoke, nothing but crackled sounds came out of my mouth. Maybe this is a sign that I should just leave for the day. Nah…

I am hoping to be fully recovered by the time I wake up in the morning. I will be attending a dinner/bachelorette party tomorrow and I want to be able to taste the expensive food I plan to eat. And since I’m pregnant (and won’t be drinking wine) I plan to eat a lot! I’d also like to wish Carrie (the bride) well with a voice that actually has a voice.

(Note: I have been lazy, lazy, lazy about moving photos off of the camera to the computer, so pictures of Charlie gorging himself with chocolate will follow someday.)

Hallelujah!

2008-03-20T16:26:00.002-06:00

Herenton to step down July 31 http://www.commercialappeal.com/news/2008/mar/20/herenton-step-down-july-31/

The news just reported this morning that Herenton ordered the closing of five libraries and four community centers in Memphis. This is the kind of news that makes me happy to see him leave office. Hopefully, our replacement will have the needs of Memphis and its citizens in mind when making decisions like this in the future.

FrankenBaby Part II

2008-03-20T11:38:00.003-06:00

FrankenBaby

2008-03-18T15:43:00.001-06:00

Last night, at approximately 9:00 p.m., Charlie was still running around the house at full speed with no indication that he would be going to bed any time soon. It’s spring break and I think just one day of doing something outside the routine made his wiring go a little berserk. He spent the day at his Nana’s house playing in the yard, riding in a wagon, eating who knows what, and getting completely spoiled. When I brought him home, I thought that he would surely be exhausted from his exciting day and settle down. But no. He was exactly the opposite. He was wired and into everything. For dinner, soup and crackers went flying across the kitchen with most of it landing on Roxy’s back leaving her bewildered about how to get that illegal snack into her mouth. The rest of the evening was spent chasing the dogs around the house, climbing on the furniture, illegally pushing buttons on the television, and giggling at absolutely nothing.

When the Professor got home from teaching his night class, it was almost 9:00. He immediately relieved me of Charlie duty and I plopped my exhausted pregnant body on the couch and put my feet up. I had grand plans of watching something horribly mindless on television and going to bed early. Charlie saw to it that my plans did not get accomplished. Trying to watch TV and relax was impossible because the kid was marching around the house, banging toys on hard surfaces, singing, and climbing. It was terribly cute, but I couldn’t get over how late it was and how exhausted and in need of peace I was.

At approximately 9:20, it all fell a part. Charlie, in yet another attempt to climb on the sofa, did what I have feared for the past 4 months since he has been walking. He hoisted himself up on the sofa (with a little boost from me) and tried to pull himself up even farther. In the split second that my hand was not holding him steady under his tush, he lost his center of gravity and did a back flip off the sofa, smacking his head on the edge of the coffee table with an enormous “SMACK!” and fell swiftly to the ground. He screamed in fear and pain. I scooped him up and held him in my arms trying to calm him. Then, as I always do when he bumps his head, I pulled back his hair to take a look, expecting to find a big red bump. Instead, I found a wide, deep gash on his forehead. It was big. And it was bleeding. Of course, I freaked.

The Professor did what he could to calm both me and Charlie. Once soothed, we wiped the blood from his face and sealed the wound with a band-aid. We decided we definitely needed to go to the ER. The cut was no minor flesh wound but a deep and wide gash. He definitely needed stitches. By 10:00 we were in the car on our way to Baptist East. Charlie was fine but sleepy. Of course, we noticed that the parking lot was full when we got there, meaning that the place would be packed. When we took our seats to wait the several hours we anticipated waiting, Charlie was in a fine mood. I think he enjoyed looking at the population of an ER waiting room on a Monday night. Fortunately, we didn’t have to witness anything too gross or scary. Most people just looked like they felt terrible. In fact, Charlie was the only person I saw with blood. Incredible!

After waiting about 30 minutes, they called us to triage. The triage nurses were in LOVE with Charlie. Their perky personalities even made it possible to take his temperature – rectally. Now that’s something he’s never experienced before! I was amazed at how calm he was.

Next, they took us to the pediatric ER section. Thank the stars for the pediatric ER!!! Because of that, we got a fast forward pass to treatment. They took us to our room which was equipped with fancy animal wall paper, a television airing Noggin, and a wonderful nurse with stickers and the perkiest personality of all. She was great because she did everything in her power to distract Charlie and keep him from freaking out. The doctor soon came in and took a look, measured the wound and took some of his vitals. They then put on numbing liquid and a headband to keep it in place. He looked like a little gangster with that thing on. They took him for a skull X-ray just to be sure, and then stitched him up. That was the hard part. They had to wrap him in a sheet like a burrito. Now, in his younger days, my boy loved the swaddle wrap. But last night, not so much. A tech came in to hold his head steady, the nurse practitioner prepared to stitch his wound, perky nurse showed him Elmo slides through a slide view, and the Professor and I cheered him on. It was a packed house. During the stitching process, he was terribly unhappy, but after it was all over, he was fine. The only way you can tell that anything happened is the big band-aid on his head.

My poor baby’s beautiful perfect faced has been maimed, and I am probably to blame. I was sitting right there on the couch next to him when it happened, after all. I’m hoping the scar will be minimal. But, he wouldn’t be his father’s son if he didn’t have battle scars to give his face, um, character. I guess this experience might toughen him up a little to the pressures of life. At least that’s what I’m telling myself to make it a little better. Pictures to follow...

Peas and Carrots, Sqash and Corn

2008-03-06T13:59:00.002-06:00

My recent obsession stems from the book I am currently reading, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. The book chronicles the year that she and her family live on a farm and strictly adhere to local foods and foods grown in their own garden. Throughout the book, there are brief reports (provided by her husband, Stephen Kopp) about the agricultural industry in the U.S. and how our country is basically doing it all wrong. A review at powells.com states, “The typical food in an American supermarket has traveled considerably farther than some people do in a year of vacations. Consider the impact of those miles on fuel consumption, or the effect that chemical preservatives and industrial processing have on our health, not to mention what this long haul paradigm does to local economies and to our grasp of what food really costs, what food is.” Another important factor is the actual taste of food. Kingsolver reminds us of what a tomato should taste like. She also points out the most Americans have never eaten asparagus at its prime, which for Kingsolver is an almost spiritual act.

I am certainly on the bandwagon with this one and am taking it upon myself to find news ways to buy food for my family. Ideally, I would join a local CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) and supplement with items from my own (non-existent) garden. Ideally, I would love to have a garden, but I don’t have the time to commit to it. Sadly, I think that is part of the point. In the United States today, we have so little time and such high expectations for our immediate needs that we don’t have time to stop and smell the roses, if you will. I remember my grandmother’s garden during my childhood. She always had something freshly plucked from her garden to give us when we came over for a visit – green beans, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, etc.) And it was always delightful. I remember going to the Scott Street Market as a kid to supplement our veggies with purple hull peas, plums, and other delectable fruits. I think these experiences gave me a love for vegetables that I otherwise might not know (genetics also play a part, I am sure). That market is long gone but fortunately, other markets have recently popped up all over the area: the Agricenter Famers Market, the Memphis Farmers Market, and the Botanic Garden Farmers Market (opening in April).

I seriously am considering joining a CSA. It’s really not any more expensive than shopping for produce at your local supermarket. I found one in Coldwater, MS called Ohana Farms (only 48 miles from Memphis) and am awaiting information about delivery. Precisely, I am waiting to see if they will 1) deliver to Memphis and 2) if the delivery fee makes it too expensive for me. I like the idea of eating locally and especially knowing where my food comes from. Lately, the Professor and I have been making monthly excursions to Costco to purchase freezable items like meat and fish. More and more, I am disturbed by the mystery about where our food comes from and how it is being produced. I am definitely NOT a vegetarian, but I shudder to think about the chicken that I put on our plates and how the poor bird might have (and probably was) once cooped up neck to neck in a 6-tiered steel cage being fed corn and antibiotics. By the way, I just read the chapter on chickens and turkeys in Kingsolver’s book.

The Professor is not necessarily on board with this new venture of mine. While he’s for the concept, I don’t think he’s so keen on the inconvenience (and the potential added expense). I, however, am all for doing a little more in terms of responsibility, environmentalism, and let’s face it, better tasting food.

A Bed on the Floor

2008-02-14T18:50:00.000-06:00

Over the weekend, the Professor and I made the leap and converted Charlie’s crib into its next phase, the toddler bed. We had been toying with the idea for a while. The Professor was concerned that he would try to climb out. I was less than enthusiastic about making the switch. My theory was that he hadn’t even come close to trying to climb out, so why change things up? I guess I feel that he is growing up so fast. Things are rapidly changing in his life, so why rush things? But, over the past few weeks, I’ve sensed that he has outgrown the crib and I was getting really tired of having to hoist him over the side of that thing. He’s getting so heavy, that picking him up is often accompanied with a few grunts and cracking bones.

So, Saturday, we made the conversion and celebrated with Charlie and his stuffed animals. Charlie was very proud and loved having the ability to get in and out of bed on his own. He even showed off his “new” bed to anyone who came over.

The first night in the bed went well. He was a little confused at first, but he quickly fell asleep and only woke up a couple of times throughout the night. During one of the wake up sessions, he got out of bed and stood in our doorway. About 30 seconds after I had finally fallen back to sleep, the Professor nudged me and pointed to the door. I jumped because I was so startled to see a person standing in the doorway staring at me. My heart puttered for a few seconds because my initial thought was, “there’s a stranger in my house!” But when I realized it was just Charlie, I relaxed a little. It was just so odd to see him standing there in the middle of the night.

Each night thereafter got easier and easier and by the fourth night, he was an old hat at climbing in his bed and sleeping through the night. In the mornings when he wakes up he waits patiently for one of us to get him, sitting upright in his bed with his feet hanging off the side.

One of the side effects of Charlie having his new bed is the new potential freedom he has. All night long he has the ability to roam the house and get into mischief. This, in turn, has caused the Professor and me to worry about what he might get into should he get up in the night and decide to meander around the house. Did we leave the garbage can out where he can access the last dollops of yogurt in the container we threw away three days ago? Is there a large chef’s knife resting precariously on the edge of the counter? Did we lock the doors? Did we make sure to close up the items in the bathroom including the lid to the toilet? All of these possibilities gave the Professor a few nightmares, so we have implemented a plan of doing a quick run-through of the house before heading off to bed.

Another mishap we planned for was the possibility that he might fall out of his bed. Like many kids, Charlie is a squirmy sleeper, and we knew it was only a matter of time before he rolled right off the edge. We decided to put an old down comforter on the floor below the bed to serve as a cushion in case he falls.

Last night, around 1:30 a.m., the Professor and I woke with a jolt to screams and cries coming from Charlie’s room. The Professor ran into his room and I followed to find him comforting Charlie, who lay sprawled out on the floor. Poor guy. He fell out of his bed. The Professor comforted him a bit and I went back to bed. The Professor spent a little time soothing him, put him back in his bed, and returned to bed. But Charlie just kept crying. And this wasn’t just a whimper indicating that he did not want to go back to bed. It was a pained cry. I decided to go check things out just to be sure. I found him sitting up on his bed, hugging Perry the polar bear and his blue blanket, Bette (as in bet), crying for his mama. I leaned down to give him some comfort and noticed something smudgy on his chin. After further investigation with bleary sleepy eyes in the dim light, I realized it was blood. I turned on the lamp and noticed that Charlie’s lip was the size of a marble; it was bleeding a little and it had a rather large gash in it. I guess he bit it during his fall. He just sat there looking pitiful, all the while licking his lip. It must have felt funny having a fat lip for the first time ever. His sweet little sad eyes convinced me to let him sleep in our bed for the remainder of the night. Big mistake. None of us got any sleep, so in addition to a fat lip, Charlie also has the grumples (make that three of us with the grumples). I guess Charlie won’t be smooching on any of his classmates today.

An Afternoon at Home

2008-02-06T15:04:00.001-06:00

Yesterday at approximately 12:50, Charlie’s school called to tell me that they would be closing early due to the possibility of bad weather and that I needed to come pick him up. Huh? It was almost 80 degrees outside. I knew that there were storms looming in the distance, but really. They closed the schools? And there isn’t even a speck of ice or snow? I went the Memphis City Schools website to find that, indeed, they had closed the schools because vicious thunderstorms were expected to hit Memphis around 3:00, which is right at most schools’ dismissal times. Fine. I got some things squared away at work and went to get my son.

Of course, he was napping when I got there. It sucked having to pry him out of his slumber. He was oh so sleepy, and what was even worse was that I had to take him back to work with me for a little while to finish up a couple of things. So, not only did my kid’s daily routine get derailed, he also had to come to this strange place where every person that came in contact with him had to talk to him, pinch his cheeks or try to make him laugh. Instead, they got a sour-faced response and lots of “no, no, no.” Having missed out on about 2 hours of his nap, he was GROUCHY. We didn’t last long at work. Once the whining and almost screaming began, I knew it was time to leave.

When we got home, I tried to get him to take another nap, but unfortunately, that window had already closed. He was in no mood for sleep even though I could see in his eyes that he needed it. The professor came home and moments later, the sirens began to blow.

I must say that I am not usually one to ride out these kinds of storms in a completely calm manner. Once the newscasters start talking tornado warnings, I immediately make a mental plan of action, put on decent shoes, and think about what I might want to take with me when and if we have to run for cover. #1 is my child, of course. Next is the dogs. I don’t worry about my husband because I am pretty sure he can cover getting himself into the bathroom with the rest of us. I also planned to pack away our wedding photos because they were taken long before the age of digital cameras. I don’t really love our wedding photos so much (we went with a cheap photographer and there are several staged shots that are just way too cheesy. Like the one with my mother “adjusting” my veil or the one with the garter – wretch!). But, these photos mean something to me because they are of our wedding day, and this was one of my most favorite days ever. I may have just been drunk on champagne, but I don’t think I have ever felt so happy and giddy in my life.

But, the professor convinced me that there was no need to start hording valued possessions in the bathroom. I was coaxed into sitting on the couch with the baby while he calmly cooked dinner. The storms eventually passed and all was well with my nerves. Of course, I called my mother about 15 minutes after threats of tornados had already passed through Germantown. She was still holed up in her closet. There’s no question about where I get my tornado anxiety.

Fortunately, Charlie slept right through the storms that passed through later in the evening. He seemed to be unfazed by the whole ordeal (like his father, of course). He spent most of the early evening walking around the house mimicking the sounds of the sirens and ogling over the bright colors on the television radar. It was a bit like a vibrant work of art now that I think about it.

I am hoping that my next afternoon home with Charlie will not be this week. Chances are high that I will get a call from school, though. They are dropping like flies in the primary class at Evergreen. Apparently, a barfing sickness is going around in his class. One little boy left early on Monday. Another child left early on Tuesday. And when we got there this morning, three more kids were reported to have the barfing sickness. Great. As far as I know, Charlie’s class is down to three kids today. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he has a stomach of steel.

Kissing

2008-01-30T11:10:00.000-06:00

Lately, Charlie has become very affectionate. He loves hugging and kissing on the lips. I don’t mind the kissing part, really, except often times it comes immediately after a quick attempt at a make-out session with one of the dogs. “EEEWWWW!!!” [Note: the word “ew” drawn out for about 5 seconds and voiced very loudly is one of Charlie most favorite expressions as of late.]

In the past week, he has doled out more of his fair share of the loving. On Saturday, I saw him kiss and hug his cousin Drew on more than one occasion (it was Drew’s birthday after all!).

Saturday evening, he spent a great deal of time at my mother’s dinner party kissing the guests, particularly Becky, who received a full on hug and wet kiss smack on the lips when she picked him up to say hello. Did I mention that he hardly knows this woman? Also on Saturday night, he followed Caroline, Becky’s 7 year old daughter, around like a lost puppy. Every time she sat down, he put his head in her lap and hugged her around the knees. When she stood up to possibly get away from the creepy toddler, he held her hand and followed. When it was time for her to go, he flat out tackled her with his hugs and smooched her on the face.

Even last night while we named body parts (chin, nose, wrist, hands, toes, knees, etc.), he kissed each and every one of my named body parts. It was very sweet and sure beats the biting that he was beginning to make a habit of. This new fondness of kissing might explain Charlie’s sudden insistent need to continuously apply my lip balm each morning. He’s got to moisten up and make his lips luscious for a day of smooching!

Things Charlie Is Learning

2008-01-18T12:22:00.001-06:00

Wow, this new school thing is really fun. I had no idea Charlie was capable of so much! All this time, I’ve just been holding him back, man. Many of these things can be done by most children of his age, but what’s impressive is that he can do it on command. And being able to tell my child what to do gives me a satisfying sense of pleasure.

1. He can take off the following clothing items: shoes, socks, jacket, hat, and pants (we’re still working on the shirt).
2. He can put on the following clothing items: shoes, hat and pants.
3. He can put his own toys away.
4. He can put items in the trash without taking other disgusting items out of the trash.
5. He runs to the bathroom like a bolt of lightening AFTER he relieves himself in the diaper or training pants. Hopefully, he will soon figure out how to get to the toilet (and get all those pants off) before he actually goes.
6. He can repeat almost any word that I say to him.
7. He has finally coaxed Roxy into letting him pet her from time to time.
8. He can wash his hands.
9. He can fake a sneeze.
10. He can spin around and around until he gets dizzy (and subsequently falls to the floor with a “whoooaa”).
11. He can blow his own nose and wipe his own mouth with a napkin.
12. He can cut a rug better than most.

Next on the list of things to learn:
1. Scratch Mama’s back
2. Massage Mama’s feet
3. Do the laundry
4. Wash the dogs

New School

2008-01-09T15:55:00.000-06:00

Charlie started at his new school on Monday. Since he began going to daycare last January, we pretty much knew that he would not be in that particular establishment long past toddler-hood. It’s not that we did not like the place; we just knew that there were better options out there once he became “of age.” We have had him on a list at the school where the Chockley children attend, but we lost our spot this summer because we decided to keep Charlie at home. In doing a little research at a party (with cocktails), I spoke to the husband of a professor at Memphis College of Art. He told me that his son goes to Evergreen Montessori. He emphatically stated (and this wasn’t the cocktails talking) that his son is always excited to go to school and always happy when he picks him up in the afternoon. I was almost sold on the place just by this conversation alone, but the Professor and I decided to take a tour of the place first.

A couple of weeks later in December, the Professor and I made an appointment at the school. We were given a tour of the facilities and I almost cried because it was such a nice environment. It was nothing like the pale, stale walls of his old daycare. And when we walked in the door, we heard the laughter and voices of children rather than the teachers yelling across the room. In the toddler area, they have a great layout. One room is devoted to a nap area and another is the “work” area. They have miniature everything for the kids to work with. They even have low to the ground toilets where THEY WILL WORK ON TOILET TRAINING. That right there is worth the small increase in tuition. On the grounds they have bunnies and chickens, and the kids raise the money to feed the animals. Charlie is not old enough for this part of the program yet, but just the fact that it’s a part of the program makes me smile. So, after the tour and a talk with one of the teachers, the Professor and I went home to discuss this new possibility. It took us about 10 seconds to decide, and we are so happy that we chose this school.

On Monday, Charlie began his first day. The teachers asked that one of us go with him on the first day and spend only a couple of hours there. While there, we read books, worked on a puzzle, mopped the floor, washed our face, and Charlie spent about an hour washing his hands in the lowered sink. I think he might be spending a lot of time there over the next weeks. I was really impressed at how the teachers communicate and work with the students. Not once did I hear the word “no.” Instead, they remind the child what he/she is supposed to be doing. They look the children directly in the eyes and talk to them in adult voices. At first I was a little concerned that it might be too serious, but after observing the class for a little while, I realized that the teachers are pulling out what these kids are capable of rather than what is expected as the norm in our society. Before we left, the teachers got the kids ready to go for a walk – their daily walk. The one where the kids actually go outside and get some exercise! At his old daycare, I think they may have gone outside about 10 times over the course of a year.

Yesterday and today, he went for short days on his own. When I picked him up yesterday, they were outside playing. It was great to see Charlie running around with kids his age and older. That’s another thing I like about the school. They don’t keep the kids so isolated by age like they did at the old place. He was having a great time trying to do what the big kids were doing, but he was also content to run around like a goofball on his own.

So far, he is doing beautifully, and I am extremely pleased.

Post-holiday post (part II)

2008-01-05T17:25:00.000-06:00

The day after Christmas, the Professor, Charlie and I were restless. After spending several days visiting with friends and family, driving back and forth from Germantown and Mississippi, eating, and filling our days with joy and laughter, we found ourselves a little bored with just ourselves. Our holiday hoopla had come to a screeching halt and we didn’t know what to do. So, we headed to the beach!

We had toyed with the idea of going down south sometime over our holiday break but never made official plans. We knew we wanted sand and waves, but other than that, we were open. On Wednesday morning after a mad-dash packing session, we found ourselves in the car, armed with a map and a cooler full of leftovers. We knew we were headed toward the beach but we weren’t sure exactly which beach. Rather than ruin the spontaneity with making set plans, we headed toward I-55 and decided to decide exactly where were going later. We had at least 6 hours at that point.

Somewhere between Memphis and Jackson, MS, we decided on Dauphin Island. I had been there once before for a friend’s wedding and really enjoyed it. It is a sparse little island just south of Mobile, AL. I like it because there are very few hotels on it; its accommodations are mostly houses on the beach or right across the narrow street from the beach. There are few stores and no gaudy souvenir shops, go-cart joints, water parks, or really anything for that matter. Just houses, a few restaurants, a grocery/bait store, and a smattering of hotels. Fortunately, we got a room at one of these hotels because affording a whole house at Christmas was not possible. The downside to all of this isolation is that in winter, only half of the establishments are actually open, and if it rains, there is not much to do.

On Thursday, we woke in our hotel to a chilly morning, but were happy to enjoy warmer weather as the day went on. We spent our day walking on the beach, enjoying a lovely bakery for a late breakfast, napping, reading, and more walking on the beach. Charlie wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. The sensation of sand between his toes was something that took him a while to get used to. He eventually came around and enjoyed digging in the sand, squishing his toes in the sand, and the following day, he even ventured out and let us put his feet in the chilly gulf water. It only took a few rounds of waves tickling his toes to get him hooked.

Having planned to stay another day, we changed plans and headed home one day early because of predicted storms. Although it was short-lived, we had a wonderful beach trip and definitely have plans to make it back this summer. I can’t wait to see Charlie’s reaction when we dip him up to his belly in the warm ocean water. Leaving early also made it possible to make it to the annual adult Christmas festivities at the Chockley’s. And to those who care, I promise to have it at my house next year (as long as we’re not at the beach!).

Post-holiday post (part I)

2008-01-04T13:03:00.000-06:00

The Professor, Charlie and I spent a week and a half in holiday bliss. Fortunately, I work at a college that graciously closes its doors for a week at Christmas. And it’s paid time off! I remember working in my corporate hell and having to return to work on December 26. It totally deflates the holiday spirit for me. But enough of that. Onto the holiday post (part I)!

Robyn, Seb and unborn yet-to-be-named baby girl came to Memphis for Christmas. We had a marvelous time visiting, talking about babies, and gearing up for Charlie’s 2nd Christmas morning. Last year, we did not expect him to have a clue about what was going on, but he tore into his presents like an old pro.

This year, he had even more fun. We started off the holiday celebrations at the Professor’s aunt and uncle’s house. There, we visited with cousins and their adorable families and enjoyed the first round of holiday food. Part I of Christmas Eve was spent with the Professor’s family. We went to his brother’s home, visited with more cousins, nieces and nephews and opened gifts. Charlie and Drew were enamored with Charlie’s new “car.” They had a blast rolling around the house in it.

Later that evening, we went to my parents’ house, ate a huge holiday dinner, and opened even more presents. It’s official. My kid understands what this holiday is all about – presents. In fact, a few days before Christmas, he walked up to the Christmas tree, pointed to the wrapped gifts resting underneath it and said “presents!”

After Charlie finally went to bed on Christmas Eve, Robyn, Seb, Gammy, the Professor and I set out to playing Santa. And boy, there was a lot to do. Earlier this month, determined to complete my holiday shopping in a timely manner, I bought presents to Charlie from Santa – 4 books, a mini-stuffed giraffe, shoes, a winter coat, and a couple of other little goodies. I felt that that was MORE than enough, especially considering that I had already heard about the 10 plus gifts my mom had gotten him and the fact that Gammy, Aunt Robyn, Uncle Steve, Aunt D, et. al. had all gotten him gifts. But, being the adorable father that he is, the Professor was determined to take a part in the selection of gifts. So, he also went shopping and purchased 2 bath toys, another book, another pair of shoes, and something else, I’m sure. This boy had a BIG Christmas. In addition to getting the toys set out, we also assembled Aunt D’s gift, a mini-playground equipped with a slide, swing, lookout telescope, and steering wheel. It was a busy night.

On Christmas morning, Charlie woke without a clue about what the day was to bring. I gave him his milk in bed so that when he entered the den, he could fully focus on his Santa lot with a full belly. He was a little apprehensive at first – probably because the five of us were staring at him and giggling. But once he realized that the big pile of goodies in the middle of the room was all for him, he loosened up and went to town playing with all of his stash. We enjoyed a leisurely morning of Bailey’s and coffee, homemade quiche and chocolates for breakfast, and of course, presents. I am so looking forward to all of the reading I have before me such as this, this, and this.

Because Robyn had to be back at work the next day, we prepared for their early afternoon departure. We wished them and Gammy farewell and spent the rest of the day, gluttonous, on the sofa. Charlie took an unusually long nap, I am sure dreaming of all of the love, gifts, and excitement of the previous days.

A Cup of Good Cheer (or a cookie!)

2008-01-03T22:10:00.000-06:00

One of the things I love most about the holiday season is cooking. After the Thanksgiving spread has been consumed, leftovers and all, I begin to lay out my plans for making holiday cookies. Typically, I am not a baker. I usually do not have the time or patience for the preciseness called for when baking. I am more the type who likes to create on the spot, throwing various things into a recipe and making it my own. Holiday cookies, on the other hand, are the exception.

I began making holiday cookies each year with the onset of my subscription to Gourmet Magazine. Each December, they devote a huge portion of their issue to holiday cookies. The cookies are often elaborate and time-consuming, but over the past 3-5 years, I have willed myself to go through the process. Each year I add one more batch or try out a new recipe. And each year, I get better at it.

First and foremost, I love making these cookies. I never feel that I absolutely MUST do it. I tend to avoid those that require any fancy decoration, icing, or special cut-outs. The cookies I make usually fall under these guidelines: 1) I don’t have to buy any special equipment, 2) they are pretty, 3) they are so rich and decadent that I would not be able to sit and eat them all at once, and 4) they are unlike anything I could buy at the store.

I present to you, the holiday cookies of 2007.

Fig Swirls
I love these cookies. They are easy to make and are a wonderful alternative to store-bought fig bars. When making these cookies, we have a hard time keeping our fingers out of the fig mixture (dried figs, honey, cinnamon and cloves). The gooey and sweet filling pairs perfectly with the sugarless shortbread.

Bittersweet Chocolate Cookies I made these for the first time about 3 years ago, and they make it on my list every year. They are made with a standard sugar cookie recipe. Just add cocoa powder, bittersweet chocolate, and hazelnuts and you have a scrumptious cookie that melts in your mouth.

Cardamom Butter Squares I made these for the first time this year. I was bit apprehensive about what the outcome may be, but they are absolutely delicious. The are crisp, light, and buttery; the cardamom is almost an afterthought complemented with espresso and chocolate drizzles.

Caramel Pecan Shortbread Cookies
These are some of my favorites. I made them for the first time last year, and we made ourselves sick because we ate them so fast. The roasted pecans paired with the homemade caramel makes the cookies worth the elbow grease that goes into making them.

Charlie at the Museum

2007-12-20T12:24:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago, the Professor and I took Charlie to the Dixon Gallery to see the Babar exhibit, Babar’s Museum of Art. When I saw the advertisement in our zoo newsletter this summer, I immediately marked the dates on my calendar. I have always loved Babar and I wanted to share the joy of this debonair French elephant (and his family and friends) with Charlie.

When we arrived at the museum, I was at first a little disappointed. I don’t really know what I expected but I did not expect the exhibit to be such a small show in a single room. After we began viewing the paintings, though, my opinion completely turned around. The exhibit was wonderful.

They paintings tell the story of Babar and Celeste converting a train station into a museum so that they can share their art with the city. I was surprised at how beautifully de Brunhoff painted masterpieces into the Babar scenes. They included Seurat, Botticelli, Munch, Mary Cassatt, Leonardo da Vinci, Van Gogh and others. It was a beautiful collection and so much fun to view. There is also a book of Babar’s Museum of Art. It is on my Christmas list if anyone is having trouble deciding what to get me!)

Bow Down to the Smoothie

2007-12-11T13:11:00.000-06:00

This morning at precisely 5:47 a.m., Charlie woke up in a fit. For the longest time now, he has actually been sleeping through to a reasonable hour. But today, I guess he had just had enough of sleeping soundly and cozily in his crib. So, I did what the Professor and I agreed NOT to do on mornings like this. I went into his room, scooped him up, and put him in bed next to me. He instantly went back to sleep. About an hour later when it was officially time to get up and get the day going, he, of course, was sound asleep. The Professor had to leave early, so we were in a bit of a hurry. So, I nudged to the little guy to get him to wake up. Bad move. Isn’t there wise old saying, “never wake a sleeping baby?”

From the moment that he opened his, Charlie’s morning was awful, making the rest of the house a little frantic and unpleasant. He cried when we got him dressed. He cried when we gave him milk. He screamed when we tried to feed him a yummy, sugary muffin. He cried and cried and cried. After the Professor finally got out the door about 10 minutes later than planned, I decided to make a smoothie for breakfast instead of trying to hold and calm Charlie. I pulled the blender out, dumped in some frozen fruit, soymilk, and juice, and began whirring the mix until smooth and creamy. And you know what? Charlie was so interested in what was going on, he stopped crying. He even begged for me to share my “smoo.” And hey, guess what? He liked it! He drank two entire cups of smoothie, all the while grinning, laughing, and narrating the experience with lots of “mmmms.” As of today, I am a convert to the smoothie god.

The Holiday Season Can Officially Start Now

2007-12-10T15:40:00.000-06:00

Last night I finished my last exam for school and I am so relieved. Even though total elation with having my weekends and evenings back to do whatever I want to do (or what Charlie commands me to do) has not yet set in, I am beginning to feel the stress of school melt away. If you hear a loud celebratory Woo Hoo! echoing through Memphis on Saturday morning, it’s probably me finally realizing that I do not have to spend ANY time over Saturday and Sunday reading textbooks, writing papers, or even thinking. Yea! I am also excited that I get to spend an entire weekend with Charlie. Since September, he has spent most of one of our precious weekend days at a grandparent’s house. I love that they are happy and willing to watch him, but I miss not seeing him as much as possible. And don’t worry Gammy and Nana, I’ll still let you hang out with him. You just may have to hang out with me, too.

Even though it has been stressful and tiring, I am really happy with my decision to go back to school. I really enjoyed my classes this semester and am looking forward to putting what I am learning into practice. I am definitely having one of those antsy moments when I wish I could just get on with it already. But, I guess I can be patient. And, I still have lots to learn. Three classes’ worth of stuff to learn, in fact.

So, now that classes have wrapped up and my exams are complete, I am finally looking forward to Christmas. We decorated our tree last night and drank a little soy nog to put us in the holiday spirit. More holiday decorations will go up throughout the week, and I plan to brave the stores in hopes to get some shopping completed this weekend. I have plans to bake cookies and treats for our guests in a few weeks, and I have loads of holiday television specials saved on the DVR to watch during my FREE TIME! I don’t know if I have ever been more excited about the holidays.

Zoo Pics

2007-12-10T14:58:00.000-06:00

I am finally getting around to posting some shots from our trip to the zoo about three weeks ago. We had a wonderful time with friends and their families on that warm November day. Connor was especially fun and sweet. While at the playground, he spent much of his time entertaining Charlie and helping him down the slide. Thanks, Connor!

Later in the day, we got a surprise! Our friend, Kayla, let us in on a special tour of the giraffe quarters (Her sister-in-law used to work at the zoo and has connections). We were allowed to go behind the scenes and pet and feed the giraffes. It was so thrilling to stand next to these gorgeous animals.

I Am Thankful

2007-12-05T13:03:00.000-06:00

Even though it has been a while since Thanksgiving and most are busy putting up Christmas decorations and have probably already finished their holiday shopping, I thought I would go ahead and post the much belated Thanksgiving post. Think of it as my way of making one of my favorite holidays stretch on as long as possible. To quote Stephanie, Thanksgiving is really my favorite holiday because it revolves around “fancy food, comfort food, fattening food.” It is all about enjoying time with friends and family and one of my favorite activities – eating. I love Thanksgiving because it also kicks off the holiday season and it usually means that the long awaited fall is here. It also doesn’t hurt that most of us get to take a little time away from work as well.

I decided to take an additional day off work, the Wednesday prior to the big feast, at the last minute. I decided I would spend the day working on a presentation for school and cooking. That was one of the most glorious days I have had in a long time because 1) I was in my house completely alone (except for two mammoth dogs) and 2) I got to spend the day doing something that I love – cooking. I don’t really cook that much anymore since Charlie came into our lives. We still cook fresh foods for dinner but nothing elaborate. Most evenings include a pan-grilled/baked/sautéed protein and some kind of vegetable. Done. It’s nothing like the long slow roasting of a turkey, baking a pie from scratch, or the two day process of preparing stuffing from my mother-in-law’s recipe.

We spent Thanksgiving day with the Professor’s family. Several relatives came in town for the holiday and we enjoyed spending time with everyone and introducing Charlie to his extended family. For the first time ever, though, Charlie was clingy. Usually, I am trying not to get my feelings bruised because he tends to want the affections of anyone but me. But on this day, moments after we walked in the door, I sat him on the sofa and he immediately reached out for me and whimpered. My heart melted. I know that I might be cursing this kind of behavior in a couple of months because I won’t be able to get out of his strangling need to be in my arms, but for now, I will relish it. My baby finally wants his mommy.

He also loves his Gammy…

Sing, Sing A Song

2007-12-03T16:57:00.001-06:00

This past weekend was busy as usual, but it went by way too fast. After last week’s 5 day hiatus for the Thanksgiving holiday, I feel like I got gypped this weekend. I am feeling the pressure of the holidays and final exams and am spending too much of the weekend hours trying to get everything done so I can be a blob as much as possible during the workweek. A few things occurred this weekend, however, that begged me to stop and take notice.

Charlie is walking. He has been making attempts for the past month now, but late last week, he just took off. His steps are still tentative and wobbly, but he has so much more confidence now and loves to show off. I am so proud and happy for him and clap and ooooh and ahhh with every attempt. One night last week, he had a grand time walking back and forth between the Professor and me. He probably walked the equivalent of a mile going back and for between us.

Now that he is walking, going to the grocery store is an entirely different experience. He’s not completely into everything on the shelves yet, but he is obsessed with pushing the shopping cart. And he can move fast! It is so hilarious to watch his cute little body drive the mammoth cart up and down the isles, into displays, and into other carts. Sometimes, he gets going with such speed that he is forced to fall to his knees because his quick little steps just can’t keep up.

Another source of entertainment from Charlie this weekend is his singing. On Saturday morning, he sang a song over and over again. After finishing each time, he gave himself his own standing ovation with claps, smiles and cheers. The Professor and I were stumped because we could not figure out what song he was singing. I was dying to sing along with him and help him practice but there was just no way in the world we could unravel the mystery. There were no actual words, no familiar tune. Nothing gave us a clue. He repeated the singing again on Sunday morning. Again, it was adorable and he was extremely pleased his performance.

I decided to ask his teacher on Monday about the song. She told me that the class sings a good morning song every morning after all the children arrive. She started to sing the song to let me know the words and tune. Charlie instantly lit up, and all of the other kids in the class quickly moved to their positions on the rug where they sit and sing together each morning. They were ready to sing!

Throwing in the towel

2007-11-20T10:11:00.001-06:00

NaBloPoMo 2007 has beaten me. I just can’t keep up. I love posting every day, and I especially love reading other’s daily posts. But once I got behind, I just kept slipping and fell even further and further behind. My apologies to all 3 of my readers out there. I will try to be a more frequent poster from here on out. A daily poster, I am not.

Frenzied Frantic Frazzled

2007-11-15T21:16:00.000-06:00

Today has been one of those days. You know, one of THOSE days. It all started with feeling almost incapable of even lifting my head off the pillow this morning. I think it has something to do with the weather. I love that the weather is finally cool and has some sort of semblance of fall, but this kind of weather always makes me want to lounge around in my pajamas in bed all day. Oh, if only!

Getting to work on time was difficult because of my sloth-like movement around the house this morning. Fortunately, the Professor took charge of dealing with Charlie. After I arrived to work, there was no room for laziness. It was a very busy day and I am wiped out. I had meeting after meeting and project after project. My bosses seem to forget sometimes that they have asked me to take on some serious responsibilities, which makes it difficult for me when they ask me to, I don’t know, be a secretary. Their insignificant requests late this afternoon made me late for a work event (I hate being late!). That event started late, which made me late picking up Charlie from daycare. So now I am out an additional $14 that I have to pay to the daycare for being late. They charge $5 dollars for the first minute late and then $1/minute thereafter. So, I was 10 minutes late.

Did I mention that I hate being late? It aggravates me so much, and I hate the chaotic feeling that comes with it. I grew up in a house where everyone was always late. Always. Always! We spent most mornings rushing out the door, my mom speeding down Poplar to get to school on time. Even with all that rushing, I was still late. I probably had cafeteria duty more than anyone else in my school. I got sent to the office so many times for being late that I think Mr. Champion, the vice principal, felt a little sorry for me. I even took licks (slaps on the palms of the hands with a paddle) once for being late. It was either that or 3 days of detention.

Sunday mornings were no different. They were spent in a mad dash to make it to Sunday school/church on time. It rarely happened. I barely recall ever getting there in time for Sunday school. Instead of leisurely Sunday mornings with pancakes and the newspaper, my family spent time arguing about being late. There was always tension on Sunday mornings. My sister inevitably was much of the root of the problem. She was definitely a girly teenager and could not leave the house without full make-up and coifed hair. And then she had to decide what to wear. And then she had to dig it out of the piles of clothes on the floor. Sometimes it was my dad’s fault because he would take his time getting ready – he believed he had plenty of time because no one else would be ready on time. Other times, it was my mother. She tended to have last minute wardrobe changes (that of course required ironing). And many times, our tardiness was my fault. I had difficult waking up so early on Sunday mornings (it was the weekend!) and I did not like going to church. Especially, our church (that’s another post altogether).

What I hated most about the tardiness of our family, besides the frantic rushing to get somewhere all the time, was the waiting. If I needed to go somewhere, I often had to wait and wait and wait for something to take me. If I needed to be picked up, I usually had to wait and wait and wait for someone to show up. On days that I didn’t take the bus home, I had to wait and wait and wait on my mom. I spent a lot of time waiting in my early teen years and it really messed with me. I’m not talking about a mere 5 minutes here or 10 minutes there. The waiting periods were more like 20, 30, and even 45 minutes. And I’m not trying to imply that I expected my family to jump when I needed or wanted to go somewhere. Most of these instances were timed appointments: school, doctors’ appointments, getting picked up at a certain time from a friend’s house, etc.

When I got my own wheels, I vowed that I would work on my tardiness habit. It was hard pattern of life to shake, and I still am not completely past it. It’s almost as if it is engrained in my DNA or something. I really try, but sometimes I just lose my mind and tell myself that I have more time than I actually have. That’s how the cycle begins.

So, when I found myself late picking Charlie up last night from daycare, I was frantic and rushed. I didn’t care about the fact that they would charge me for the extra minutes. What I cared about was the pattern of tardiness that I was practicing and teaching Charlie. I hated that I was making him wait, wondering if anybody was coming to pick him up. I hated that I knew he was hungry and needed dinner. I hated that I usually pick him up at 5:15 and it was now 6:10 - almost an entire hour of waiting. I hate that I did that to him because I know what it feels like.

I know these things are impossible to avoid sometimes. I know that it is probably good to teach him that things don’t always work out the way you want or expect them to. But, I hope to never make him wait for me again.

Potty for Christmas

2007-11-14T23:08:00.000-06:00

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about potty training and how much I DON’T know about it. I’ve looked on line and read things here and there and have heard others stories about the ins and outs of this milestone of their children’s lives. Most of the advice I get has at its core the notion that “when they’re ready to do it, they are ready.” Cool. I can live with that.

In my potty training research, I have read several stories about kids potty training at ages as young as 16 months. Wow! I had no idea it could happen that early! And these stories weren’t necessarily about those who decide to notice the rhythms of their child’s body and then holding them over the toilet when the think they need to go. You’ve heard of those people, the ones who apparently have all the time in the world to watch when their kid flinches in just that way and then rushes them to the toilet. I’m all for having fewer diapers in the world, but I just cannot ever imagine a time when I would be available enough to do this.

I guess I’ve just been a little obsessed with this topic lately because I’m feeling a bit guilty about using disposable diapers. I went on the gDiapers website and saw the horrifying evidence that disposables really are that bad for the environment. I could make myself feel better and just start using the gDiapers but they are so expensive, too expensive. I even toyed with the idea of switching to cloth diapers but fear that the experiment would backfire because Charlie is so accustomed to disposables. And I am not even sure my daycare is willing to accommodate the change either.

Thus, the potty. I plan to get Charlie a training toilet soon. I don’t plan to begin the actual training right away, but I want him to have the opportunity to explore the option as soon as possible. I thought about getting him one as one of his Christmas presents, but the Professor won’t let me. In his mind, a potty is not an appropriate gift. In my mind, giving it as a gift might give Charlie a reason to love it more.

Sake anyone?

2007-11-13T22:22:00.000-06:00

When I say blue, yell blue!

2007-11-12T07:47:00.000-06:00

I’ve failed. I missed a post yesterday. I had full intentions of logging on to the computer and whipping out something witty and quick. But it never happened. What with all the business of the day, I just could not find the energy to pull my self off the couch last night to write something. It doesn’t help that I fell asleep on said sofa before 10:00 p.m. To make up for it, I’ll try to do a double post today (or sometime this week). Posting every day is difficult, especially on the weekends.

Yesterday, I went to my nieces’ cheerleading competition. M (5) and T (7) are both cheerleaders this year, and their teams participated in the competition called Cheer Off. M is on the Flag team and T is on the Pee Wee team. They were anxious, nervous and excited and both did very well. I was so proud of them, and of course they were adorable.

When my sister signed them up for cheerleading, at first I was a little apprehensive. I guess I reverted back to my high school days and the stereotype that cheerleaders are just a bunch of bubbly back-stabbing-bitches. But then I thought more about it and dug deep into my memory. And really, I don’t remember cheerleaders at my school being this way at all. In fact, some of them were my friends, and most of them were pretty cool. For example, Leigh Hood was a cheerleader. For those of you that remember her, you know what I’m talking about. One of my close friends Stephanie was also a cheerleader, and she’s not like that either. She is one of the kindest people who will go out of her way to do something for a friend. Now that’s rare.

So, I thought and thought about why I had this nagging uneasiness about cheerleading. And then it dawned on me. In 4th grade, I was a cheerleader. At the time, I was going to a private school but I was somehow able to cheer for the neighborhood public school. I think I was eligible because I had gone to that school in previous years. At the same time, I was taking violin lessons twice a week. The expensive private violin lessons that my parents could not afford made me about 15 minutes late for cheerleading practice. And I always got chewed out for it by our sponsor, Mrs. Shipp. It always made me feel wretched.

I really liked cheerleading for a while. My best friend was on the team and we had fun practicing together. I was into gymnastics so I liked the tumbling aspect of it as well. But digging through the dark cave of my cheerleading memories, I found that I probably disliked it more than I liked it. Here’s why:

1. Getting chewed out for being late to practice because my mom was also making me take violin lessons. I guess she thought that violin and cheerleading would be a good balance. Come to think of it, Leigh Hood played the violin and was a cheerleader. Again, she was cool. Maybe I should have stuck with both?

2. Having to put on a fake smile all the time and pretend I was having the time of my life when in reality, I was trying to keep count to the routine in my head and not screw up.

3. Some of the other girls on the team actually were bubbly back-stabbing bitches. Mrs. Shipp’s daughter was on the team, and she was one of them. I didn’t go to school with any of them either, which made my sense of belonging that much more difficult.

4. Homecoming. A boy had to escort me on the football field. I hated that moment. I was in 4th grade and did not know the guy, and I simply found this experience to be horrifying.

5. Competitions. Boy, were these girls serious about the competitions. They made me so nervous and sick. I always did my job and never screwed up, but we never won. This made some of those bubbly back-stabbing bitches even bitchier. I remember one competition where half of our pyramid fell down. It was unavoidable because the girl on top lost her footing which led to a fall which left the spotter unable to keep another girl from falling off the side – it was an honest mistake. Before we even made it back to the stands after our routine, there was already some serious blame being thrown around. Tears were shed, feelings were hurt, and it was an altogether unpleasant experience that is burned into my memory. In another competition, our girls were confident. We did our routine perfectly and everyone was sure we would win. We didn’t. We didn’t even place. The other teams were just better. But gosh, you would have thought someone died there were so many tears that day. The disappointment was just brutal.

This is why I do not like cheerleading.

BUT, I do think that there are good things that can come from it. I’m not that much of a pessimist. First of all, I think it is good for building strong, confident women. The health aspects are great and the sense of teamwork is like none other in the world of athletics. The girls get to be with their friends, dance, tumble, and scream their heads off, all the while having people cheer for them. They have to work hard, discipline themselves, and learn about the value of practice and having a focus. Now who couldn’t use a little more of that in their lives?

My nieces did a great job yesterday, and I was happy that I was there to cheer them on in support. I think they had a great time, which is all that matters anyway. And if I have anything to do with it, they will never become my stereotype of a cheerleader. Instead, they’ll be strong, confident, and happy.

Not that I'm trying to tell you what to do but...

2007-11-10T20:08:00.001-06:00

This morning, the Professor and I headed to Easy Way to begin our regular weekend shopping. I love that store. I especially love that we leave with an overflowing cart and have only spent $20. What I don't love is the tight quarters of the place, and that shopping there early on a Saturday morning means vying for cart space with some of our fair city's older population. Usually, I am appreciative of the adoring comments these ladies lay on Charlie, but on this particular day, I got very annoyed.

A woman (probably in her mid to late 70s) made the usual Oh, he's so cute comment about Charlie. I smiled and said thanks and prepared to move on. [I failed to mention that at this time, Charlie is busy sucking on one of the plastic produce bags. We gave him this to avert his attention from throwing the contents of our shopping cart across the store.] Here is how the conversation went.

Her: You shouldn't let him play with that bag. They're dangerous.

Me: Yes, I know. But I am keeping a very close eye on him. As long as I keep watching him, I'm sure nothing will happen. He's happy and he's fine.

Her: Well, you shouldn't let him play with it. He could put it over his head and suffocate.

Me: Thanks, but he won't do that because I am watching him.

Her: You shouldn't let him play with it. He could suffocate.

Me: (BIG sigh) Okay, thanks (with gritted teeth).

Did she really think I would let my kid, the love of my life, put a plastic bag OVER his head?

Charlie and I walked back over to the Professor while he was trying to pick out the freshest head of romaine. He could tell I was annoyed and asked me what happened. I gave him the run-down of the conversation, let him know I was fine, but that I really did not want unsolicited (and stupid) advice from a perfect stranger.

His response: You should have just said, "how about I put this plastic bag over your head? What do you think would happen then?"

While I don't agree with harming others to get them to back off, I did get a good chuckle from this.

Random and uninspired

2007-11-09T15:32:00.000-06:00

I’m feeling good today because last night was my final event for The Big Read. We held an event at Theatre Memphis and it was totally awesome. Lots of students showed up, the acting was superb, and the discussion was enlightening. This was a great way to end this program. Now I just have to write the report for the grant. Wretch.
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I’ve been curious about Google Ads on blogs. I am not necessarily for it or opposed to it. I wonder if any money can actually be made, especially for a blog that is not widely read. The Professor and I had a discussion last night about credit card debt. We have a 5-year plan to pay it off, but the 5-year plan has been in existence for 5 years already, and we still have 5 years to go. Maybe Google Ads could help whittle those bills down?
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My baby will be walking any day now! For the longest time, he would only walk if someone held both of his hands. But yesterday when I picked him up from school, he walked all the way from his classroom to the water fountain and then from the water fountain to the car, the whole time only holding one of my hands. In the other hand, he held his cup. He was so proud of himself! I was proud of him, too. Unfortunatley, learning to walk also comes with a multitude of bumps and bruises. He now has a bruise on his forehead, a bruise on his temple, a cut on that place between the top lip and the nose, and several bruises on his legs. Let’s hope no one mistakenly calls Child Protective Services on me! But, with all the falls, missed steps, bumps, cuts and bruises, my little man persists and gets right back up to getting from point A to B. So, I guess that is inspiring.

Stinky Cheese Contest

2007-11-08T12:10:00.001-06:00

Tuesday, the French Club at the college where I work, announced that they would hold a stinky cheese contest. When I found out about it, I immediately emailed Stephanie informing her that we were participating. Of course, she was game. The following day, we headed to the contest full of anticipation. I was little nervous since I had been stricken with a stomach bug recently, fearful that the stinky cheese that I usually love so dearly, would leave a bad taste in my mouth. It did leave a bad taste in my mouth, but in a good way. All signs were good that the bug had finally and literally left my system. Oh, I just adore you stinky cheese!

The cheese featured were some of the staple French chesses (and one that is Danish): Brie, Camembert, Havarti, Gruyere, and Chévre. They were tasty but they probably were not the best quality French cheeses one can find. But who’s complaining? Steph and I particularly like the Chévre and the Havarti. The Havarti had a whopping punch of garlic in it that made us both wish we were sipping on a fine bottle or two of wine.

Nibbling on the stinky cheese reminded me of the glorious cheese plate at Dish. They serve a huge portion of various cheeses (Manchego, St. Andres, Cabrales, Goat, Reggiaanitto, Halloumi, Grand Padano, Fresh Mozzerella, Petite Basque, and Feta). Also included are olives and giant crackers cut the richness of the cheeses. All this costs only about $16. I ordered this with 2 other people once, and we had a hard time finishing it. Yum-my.

Thinking about all this cheese makes my head spin with other tasty delectables I have and have not yet had while eating out in Memphis. While the Memphis restaurant industry has not always been on par with other cities of its size, it is finally starting to catch up. I frequently hear about new and unique restaurants popping up, especially those downtown.

Unfortunately, being a mother of an 18 month old makes it difficult to eat out often. Dining out these days usually does not consist of lingering over a glass of wine or, god forbid, actually tasting the food. Dining out most often requires at least 2 things: fast service (and fast cook times) and low, low, low prices. That way, if Charlie manages to smash his little chubby fingers into my plate and hurl my food across the restaurant (or stuff it in his mouth only to spit it out while making retching noises), all is not lost. If he suddenly decides that he is miserable while the server sets our food on the table, we can easily pack it to go and run.

Recently I’ve been dreaming of lingering over a glass of wine and savoring a nice meal. Hopefully, when Charlie is a little older and when our budget will allow, the Professor and I can venture out for more frequent dinners. And in case anyone wants to offer free babysitting and finance the rendezvous, below are some new places (and old) I want to try (or revisit).

Bari - I am particularly in love with the Frutti di Mare Fritti, the Polpette and the Zaccagnini Montepulciano D’Abruzzo Riserva. And the cheese!

Circa

Stella

Felicia Suzanne’s

McEwen’s – Banana cream pie anyone?

EP Delta Kitchen

Bluefin – I’ve heard good things about the Tuna Tataki Pizza.

Umai – I have eaten there once and thought it was really special. I really enjoyed an appetizer that consisted of black seaweed (I think?). Regardless, it was tasty and I hope to go back.

Grill 83 – If you plan to finance this one for us, be sure to include a night at the Madison Hotel, as well, preferably the presidential suite.

Encore

Any others that you might recommend? I mean, I am dreaming here. Might as well make it count.

Black taffeta with a balloon skirt

2007-11-07T15:07:00.001-06:00

In response to yesterday’s post, the fabulous Spiffy Tiffy (a.k.a. Hyena) sent these beauties to me this morning. Thanks to her, I don’t have to attempt to verbally describe the black taffeta chaos (with ruching, a balloon skirt, and a demure sweetheart neckline) that I described yesterday as a dress. You can see it for yourself.

First, a photo of Tiffy and me. Who knows what we were doing or where we were. Judging by the hair, it was at least 10th or 11th grade. I know this for sure because if it was any earlier than that, you would have jumped back from the page a bit by Tiffany’s exploding bangs and curly/fried permed hair.

Next, is a photo of that dreadful prom night. Notice the dress? I like the way the camera and the light worked together to pick up the swirls in the taffeta. The camera did not, however, do the balloon skirt justice. That skirt was full and bulbous and absolutely huge. Maybe it was the dress that led me to my cruel and heartless breakup?

My mom pulled out all of my and my sister’s old dance dresses from the attic a couple of years ago. I tried this one on (it was the only one with elastic – camouflaged by the ruching, of course). It did not fit. Man, I was skinny back then!

And finally, a photograph of me and Chip on prom night 1990. This was a pretty interesting evening/weekend. First of all, Chip had already moved to Nashville. We had been having a long distance relationship for about a year (we hadn’t quite hit the 1 year/5 month mark – that happens when he actually comes back to Memphis for college the next fall). So, Chip is living in Nashville and it is prom season. Because we have a long distance relationship, somehow, Chip needed to get to Memphis for my prom. This led Tiffany and I to the following brilliant idea: Road trip!

We decided to drive to Nashville on Friday after school and pick him up and return to Memphis in time to get ready for prom (I can’t remember if we drove back immediately on Friday or if we waited until Saturday morning). Because our plan was so last minute, Chip and I had no plans for any of the prom madness. All of our friends were busy getting drunk in their hotel rooms, while Chip and I were stuck way out in Germantown at my parents’ house trying to figure out where to go out to eat while I curled my hair. We decided on Grisanti’s and I think I ate lasagna. This was before I trained my palette to have a little adventure. That night it also poured rain, so my dyed to match red shoes were bleeding all over my cream stockings, and my curling iron curled hair was flat before we got to the restaurant. We had fun though. I recall stopping by Tiffany’s hotel room, but being the only sober ones in the room was not so fun. And I’m pretty sure we had a pretty early night. Gosh, my memory is killing me!

The funniest part of the story occurred on Sunday. We were leisurely hanging around my parents’ house and having a relaxing day when my father asked how Chip planned to get home. Ummm, wha? How is he getting home? I don’t know. We, being the responsible and genius teenagers that we were had not thought about the fact that Chip actually had to get home. It was a school night, so my parents would not let me drive him. My parents would not drive him because they had to work the next day. Chip’s parents would not come pick him up for the same reason. So what brilliant plan did my oh so practical father devise? Greyhound bus, baby. That’s right. I had to drop my boyfriend off at the then scary Greyhound bus station on a Sunday afternoon. I think it was some kind of punishment for us being so stupid. Of course my father drove to the station because, you know, it was in downtown Memphis. Danger! Danger! It wouldn’t be smart to let his 16 year old daughter drive down there in the middle of the day. Of course not. So I watched Chip board the bus, and what normally would have been a less than 3 hour trip by car, took about 20 hours or something like that. I think his bus stopped at every little Podunk town in the 210 mile stretch between Memphis and Nashville. Poor Chip.

So what is a C-dog Mama?

2007-11-06T13:08:00.000-06:00

Many, many years ago, waaaay back in high school, I liked a boy named Chip. Chip liked me, too. So, we kissed a lot. We tried to keep our affair somewhat hidden because Chip was living with my ex-boyfriend’s family at the time. You see, it all started when RT and I broke up. RT and I had dated for over a year. A year and 5 months to be exact (this duration turned out to be my limit for any relationship until I met the Professor. Until then, at approximately 1 year and 3 months, I would start to get that feeling. Panic would set it; I would lose my breath, sweat, and seriously analyze the relationship, always ultimately determining that I needed to be single again and live freely. I think this is due to my prowess at keeping my guard and various emotional walls up for a very long time. At about a year and 2 months, the person near and dear to me is always able to begin cracking away at the shell, forcing me to be myself, and that person finally gets to know me for me. And this is what always sent alarm bells through me, insisting that the relationship needed to end.)

*Now, I can’t say that at the ripe old age of 17 that I was really capable of understanding all of my emotional baggage. RT and I had dated for over a year, and it was time to end it. It was prom night, 1989. We went to prom with my best friend Tiffany and her date (GH) in his ancient 1970 something Volvo. We had a nice dinner at Captain Bilbo’s, and then we went to the dance at the Peabody. I wore a black strapless taffeta dress with a balloon skirt that I don’t think I could ever describe on paper. It was truly hideous. RT and I fought for a good part of the evening. On our way home, we decided to stop by Audubon Park to, I don’t know, “talk.” At least that’s what Tiffany called it. That’s when RT and I broke up. It was miserable and painful and when I look back on it, I am ashamed that I instigated it – ON PROM NIGHT. Just call me cruel. It also didn’t help matters that the Volvo broke down on the way home, so RT and I were stuck in the car with Tiffany while GH went to call his mom. Fun! I really think I need to apologize to RT for that horrible night. I mean, what kind of person does that? A really emotionally screwed up person, that’s who.

Earlier that year, Chip’s family moved to Nashville, but because it was mid-year, they decided to let Chip stay in Memphis until the summer. Chip and RT had always been good friends, so he temporarily lived with RT and his family. Chip and I had equally been good friends. We were all the kind of friends that went out in large groups of people: me, Chip, Tiffany, RT, BT, BH, AN, etc. We didn’t go on real dates. We all just went out together. Before the end of the school year, Chip and I decided we liked each other. But, you understand, it was really difficult because he lived with my recent ex-boyfriend.

So, fast forward a couple of weeks. The annual Memphis in May festivities of 1989 saluted Africa. Tiffany and I were always excited about going to Sunset Symphony, and this particular year was not any different. We decided to secretly go with GH and Chip, and just not tell RT. I don’t remember what kind of immature lie we concocted, but we somehow ended up at Sunset Symphony – just the 4 of us. We had fun, but I’m sure we all felt a bit of the weight of that lie on our shoulders. RT eventually found out, and it was not pretty. It turns out, though, that he was much more mature than I was because he did not act like a complete shameful lying jerk about the whole thing like I did.*

So, C-Dog Mama? Well, at that particular Sunset Symphony, we listened to a band performing traditional African music. Throughout their set, the singer kept yelling out, “Jambo!” Our group of friends had previously thought it fun to give each other random nicknames, and “Jambo” became my newest nickname that day. Or was it Chip's nickname? I don't remember. Other nicknames we had were: Jasmine, BBB, other forgotten names that began with “J”, Cat, and C-dog (coined by none other than Spiffy Tiffy). Is there any meaning whatsoever to the name C-Dog? No. It’s totally random. It is just a name Tiff gave me a very long time ago. When I became a mama, it seemed only logical to add “mama” to the end of it. Thus, C-Dog Mama.

*[All dates and events are represented purely by my aging memory. There are probably several inconsistencies. The Professor and I have been married for over 8 years and have been together for over 11, but I do remember at 1 year and 5 months considering a break-up. I think I even tried but he wouldn’t let me. I am eternally grateful for his persistence.]

What's for Dinner?

2007-11-05T22:08:00.000-06:00

...certainly not anything I want to eat. We are still battling the icky illness. The Professor came down with it last night and spent most of the evening in the bathroom. I stayed home from work today and spent the majority of the day sweating, asleep on the couch. Charlie, fortunately, only had a mild version of this last weekend; and he certainly handled it much better than the Professor or I have. So, Charlie went to school today and I got to rest. I am feeling better but I am not really looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.

While at home today, I had visions of being the stay at home mom that I long to be. I dreamt about how I would spend my mornings on long walks with Charlie, come home and have a story and a snack, and then whisk him off to a long nap while I dust, vacuum, scrub the bathroom and do laundry. He would then wake and we would head out to have a late lunch or coffee with my mom or sister. We would finally come home in time to make a nice, healthy, and complicated meal for dinner. I know, I know, this vision is so far from the reality of most stay at home moms. But it's my dream, damn it.

I am definitely coming to terms with accepting the fact that stay at home mom-ness is just not in the cards for me. For the longest time, I've wished and hoped (and blamed) that there could somehow be a way. But there just isn't. So, I am trying to accept this completely and move on.

When I really think about it, I don't even know if I truly want to stay home all day. In fact, I'm not sure I would even be all that happy doing it. I'd probably get fat and lazy and know WAY too much about daytime television. My main frustration with the whole notion is that I don't even have the choice to give it a try. Our finances just don't have any wiggle room to try to "cut back" to make it happen. We're already cutting back, and we both work full time. So, I guess I'll just have to save making complicated dinners for the weekends and look on the bright side. At least I won't have to clean the bathroom - I'll save that for the Professor. I hate cleaning bathrooms.

Hair!

2007-11-04T17:21:00.000-06:00

Charlie has never gotten a haircut. I have long had a firm desire to let his hair grow long "just to see." This is the one time in his life that he doesn't have to worry about standards and norms for sex and gender. So, let him have long hair. Let him play with princess toys! He doesn't know the difference! That, and his shaggy curly hair looks really cute in pictures. I recall seeing a picture of my brother-in-law as a young child with long and curly hair. At the time I thought, "I want to have a picture of Charlie like this."

Last night, while bathing Charlie, I decided that he needed a haircut. You see, Charlie has this wild and crazy curly hair that makes him look like he has bed head most of the time. I have cut his bangs once before to get it out of his eyes. But when I cut it then, his hair was dry and I was able to give him a whispy, natural looking trim. Last night, though, well, he was in the tub. I had just washed his hair, and someone should have just stopped me before I took the scissors to his hair.

I have straight hair. REALLy straight hair. When you cut it, nothing happens. It just gets shorter. Little did I know that when you cut short or wavy hair, there is actual science involved! Cutting curly hair involves precision and skill and the ability to understand that when wet, the curls are weighted down. When dry, the hair bounces up. So, in my misunderstood and ignorant state, I cut the hair above his brow and the hair at the nape of his neck. When it dried, it reminded me of the time I cut my sister's Barbie's hair. I laid the Barbie down, let her hair fall back (that's what they do in the salon when they wash it!), and I cut off all of Kissing Barbie's hair in one chop. All I wanted to do was give her a trim, but when I sat her back up, her hair looked like it had been run through the Cuisinart.

Fortunately, Charlie's hair does not look nearly as rough as Kissing Barbie's did 20 years (okay 30 years) ago. He just has some seriously straight across bangs and a big divot at the nape of his neck. All of this is surrounded by whispy bed-head curls that need to be neatened up a bit. I just can't bring myself to take the scissors to him again for fear of destroying all of his cute little boy tousled-hair look. I think I"ll take him to a salon and let a professional do it.

Sleepless Again

2007-11-03T22:27:00.000-06:00

Yesterday evening I planned to go to bed early. Who cares that it was Friday night, the official start of the weekend? I was exhausted from the week and the lack of sleep the week brought. I wanted to nurse the hint of the cold that was coming on. I wanted to get lots of sleep to ensure a fun and grump-free weekend. I was so looking forward to waking up refreshed and ready to take on my Saturday. Well, I'm sure you can guess where this is going.

Yesterday, I felt a little more exhausted than usual. When I got home from work, the Professor and I ate pizza for dinner, and ever since that meal, I just did not feel quite right. I felt disgustingly full even though I hadn't eaten more than I normally would. I decided to go to bed around 10:30 in hopes of feeling better by morning. At 3:00 a.m. I woke with heartburn and horrible stomach problems. It was awful. So awful that I couldn't sleep. After 2 or 3 trips to the bathroom, I decided to spare the Professor from my getting up and down and my tossing and turning, and I decided to make a night of it on the sofa.

By 5:30 a.m., after watching terrible late night television, I had finally downed enough Pepto Bismal to go back to sleep. I woke again at 7:00 to Charlie enjoying his breakfast; at that time, I reclaimed the bed. At 9:45, I got up for the day and have tenderly wandered my way through it in a daze. I attempted to keep up with our original plans of errands and a football game, but I just found myself feeling like a big disgusting lump that did not want to move. I am feeling better now and am hoping that tomorrow morning will bring complete relief. OH PLEASE let this be gone by tomorrow.

What a way to spend the weekend.

I HATE getting sick.

Halloween

2007-11-02T21:50:00.000-06:00

Last weekend, we took Charlie on our second annual pumpkin search/photo shoot. Last year, we just happened upon a local church “pumpkin patch” and decided to go back to the same location this year. They won us over with the abundance of props for photographs and their impeccable service. The youngsters at the patch are more than willing to help with selecting the best pumpkin, with prices, and toting your load to the car.

So, Sunday afternoon, we donned Charlie in his costume and headed for the pumpkin patch. [We had originally planned to attend a Halloween party at Aunt D’s house immediately after selecting pumpkins, but the party had to be cancelled at the last minute; thus, the costume on a day other than Halloween.] Charlie had a blast checking out all of the pumpkins.

Saturday night, we dressed Charlie again in his cowboy ensemble and headed to the Zoo Boo with some of the Professor’s co-workers and their families. We were hopeful about the evening but worried that we might have a similar experience to last year’s Zoo Boo experience. I happily report, however, that Charlie had a fantastic time. He gawked in amazement at all of the kids dressed in costumes, rode the Zoo’s train for the first time, and devoured his first candy (jelly beans and Raisonettes). He also got to eat a free mini ice cream sandwich from the nice people at Blue Bell. We hit most of the attractions and even though the event is geared more toward kids who are a little older, I am glad that we are introducing to some of our fun traditions early in life. His jelly bean buzz did not wear off until after 10:00 p.m., though.

Sunday night was pumpkin carving night. Charlie did not participate much. I think he is a little dainty when it comes to getting slimy stuff on his hands. He did NOT like the pumpkin guts. (For some reason, though, that does not prevent him from smearing oatmeal all over his face.) He was so appalled by the pumpkin guts that he threw up all over himself halfway through the carving! (No seriously, the barfing was just left over from a mild illness that struck him earlier that day).

NaBloPoMo

2007-11-01T22:33:00.000-06:00

Ok, so I decided to do it. I had planned to do it earlier last month, but as October dwindled away, November got even closer. I began to have doubts. I begin to worry that just one more thing would be enough pressure to make me crack. But, my good friend Stephanie convinced me this afternoon that it would be fun just to see if I can do it. So, I’ve joined. I am committed. I will post each day for the month of November. I hope that this experience will help me bring more clarity into my life, vent more of my frustrations and perhaps help make me a better writer. So, bear with me as I will probably have to dig deep on some occasions just to get more words out than “this is my post for the day.”

NaBloPoMo is a challenge to bloggers to post every day for the month of November.

I wrote this post in my head at 5:17 a.m. this morning…

2007-10-31T11:43:00.000-06:00

Charlie woke up crying again early this morning. He has been doing this almost daily for the past few weeks. He wakes up in the dark wee hours of the morning, cries for about 15 minutes until one of us decides to crawl out of bed and retrieve him. We bring him back in the bed with us in hopes that he will please, please, please go back to sleep. Sometimes he does, but most often, he just tosses, turns, grunts, and flops with accidental head-butting and kicking. A few days ago, the Professor and I made a pact that we would weed out this habit of our child. We decided that we would NOT put him in the bed with us anymore and just let him cry. After a few mornings of early morning crying, he would be cured, and all will be well with the Palmer world of sleeping.

For the first few mornings, things went well. He cried, but only for 15-20 minutes. And the crying was mild enough that he didn’t put himself into an inconsolable fit. So, relief washed over the house and the grumpies were moving their way out. We were sleeping through the night (and morning) again!

This morning, I woke to the sounds of Charlie crying again. I looked at the clock. It was 5:17. I was exhausted from my late night of watching reruns of Frasier Halloween episodes. I was totally prepared to ignore the cries and let Charlie lull himself back to sleep, but something was totally off. Something just felt COMPLETELY wrong. Once I was able to pull myself a little further out of my deep sleep, I realized that I was completely burning up. I was sweating profusely, I had kicked off the covers, and everything felt so incredibly hot. I have been feeling a cold coming on for the past few days, so I immediately thought that I was dying from some horrible fever that I picked up at day care.

I sat up and took a look around. I noticed that the Professor had kicked off the covers on his side of the bed, too. I even noticed the dogs panting a little. That’s when it hit me. I heard the heat blowing through the vents and could physically feel the dry heat sucking the moisture out of my skin. I got up to check the thermostat, which read 85 DEGREES.

“So, is your thermostat broken?” you make ask. No. Nope. Sure isn’t. Last night before bed, the Professor complained of being cold. He wanted to turn on the heat. I, of course, voiced that I didn’t think turning on the heat was necessary, what with the flannel sheets on our bed and the fact that the temperatures were in the 50s and all. But he insisted. He convinced me that Charlie may kick off his blanket and get cold in the night. Boy, was I duped. Instead, Charlie was woken by the sheer torture of the blazing heat this morning.

So, I got up, got Charlie, opened a few windows, got back into bed with the covers officially kicked off for the duration of the morning, and wrote this post in my head. Charlie, of course, head-butted me in the process of trying to flip over backwards in an effort to get comfortable.

[After a confrontation about the heat later this morning, the Professor informed me that he simply forgot to check the temperature before turning on the heat. Go figure.]

I can only hold out so long…

2007-10-30T15:35:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago, I received a call from a middle school in Memphis requesting an interview for a job. This middle school has a pretty solid reputation, so I jumped at the opportunity and scheduled the interview for the following day. The person who spoke to me did not give me much information about the position except that it was for grades 6-8. This created a mild sense of anxiety because I was not sure if the position was for an English teacher or an ESL teacher, and I was too excited to even think to ask that question when scheduling the interview. I was not worried, though. Mostly just curious.

The next morning, I donned my interview suit and an extra layer of adrenaline and headed to the school. When the interview began, I asked the vice principal conducting the interview if the position was for English or ESL. She said neither. Wha? She asked me if I spoke Spanish? Um, no. German? Aha! Yes! She proceeded to tell me about the position for a German World Languages teacher and that she has had an extremely difficult time finding a German teacher. In a nutshell, the course would be on German culture and language to prepare students for actual German language courses in high school. She informed me that the class should be fun and excite the students. There was to be no homework. No tests. No aligning with standards. NO pressure. The point is to get students to WANT to come to class and participate. Throughout this conversation, my mind was reeling. Thoughts of Lederhosen, Spätzle, Sauerbraten, Bier, the Berlin Wall, and Schlager Musik spun in my head. Was this woman serious? Could this be true?

The only problem was certification. I am not certified in the State of TN to teach German. But, getting the certification would be no problem. I even checked it out after the interview and emailed the vice principal letting her know how easy it would be and that I would do whatever it takes to get the certification. I was enthusiastic, excited, and serious about this job. I left the interview thinking that this could be the best job in the world for me. I was already envisioning doing Internet projects in the library, cooking in the teen living (home economics) kitchen, and working with art, social studies, and music teachers. I was on the verge of asking my German brother-in-law for some advice. I had already started developing lesson plans in my head.

Now, almost 3 weeks later, I still have not heard a thing. I left her a voice mail asking her to please let me know either way (which she informed me she would do on the day of the interview). Still nothing. I want to believe that they have just not yet made a decision. Or that they got busy and filling this position got moved down on the priority list. I want to believe something other than the fact that they probably hired someone else for this job. Probably someone who teaches Spanish. I’ll probably send one last email to her as a follow up, but essentially, I’ve already given up. Could it be that this job is just not meant for me? Will I find out down the road that I, in fact, will be happier doing something else? Who knows? But, damn, I think that could have been a really fun job.

Hug It Out

2007-10-25T07:16:00.000-05:00

Next week, Charlie will be 18 months old. I can’t believe he has already been with us for a year and a half. I was perusing through old photos the other day and looked in awe as I saw my scrawny baby in the NICU. My, has he thrived over the year! He’s growing up so quickly, it almost scares me. At times, I find myself wishing he could talk and be more independent to make things easier on me, but then I immediately switch to wishing he was still a tiny 4 month old baby. But most of the time, I am just amazed with who he is at this very second.

At this point in his life, he’s not yet a toddler but certainly no longer a baby. He is not yet walking, but he is well on his way (he is still a little behind because of his pre-maturity). He enjoys hoisting himself up to a standing position and counting the seconds until his little booty hits the floor. Most often, he is so proud of his stance that he claps, knocking him off balance, sending him immediately to the ground. I absolutely adore watching his pride spread across his face. His eyes light up as if to say, “Do you see what I, Charlie of only 17 ½ months, am capable of doing? Can you believe it?” He bears his teeth in a proud grin and giggles with pleasure at himself.

With his communication skills, Charlie is moving along at rapid speeds. He is learning and using new words every day. Most recently are hi, bye, and yes (stated with a giant head nod, “yesssssss”). He is beginning to understand the power of words and, in my opinion, is on the brink of having full multi-sentence conversations with us.

All of these new developments are great. But lately, I feel like he gets a little overloaded sometimes, especially after school. After he spends a full day actively playing and learning, he’s completely spent. When I pick him up from school, he peers at me happily through the door. He smiles and scoots over to me and gives me a giant bear hug. We say goodbye to his classmates and teacher and head for the car. Somewhere between stepping out of the building and getting secured in his car seat, he loses it. The drive home is usually spent trying to soothe him. This is most often done by tossing Teddy Grahams back to him from the driver’s seat, hoping that a few will land in his lap. Then, the snacks run out and I make a mad dash down curvy Quince to get home before my nerves explode.

We get home and he his happy to see the dogs and sighs in satisfaction as we take his shoes off. And then, the screaming begins. We race to get him something to eat, hoping to sate his hungry little belly. But over the past few weeks, food has not been the thing to calm and distract him - even if he is hungry. In fact, everything pisses him off. We put milk in front of him. He throws the cup. We try crackers. He screams and shakes his head no. We try to hold him, and he does the baby stiff body with arched back thing that makes me almost drop him on his head. We try to give him his blanket and he throws it on the floor and kicks it. We try to distract him with a book or a toy that inevitably gets thrown across the room and whacks one of the dogs in the head.

Finally, succumbing to the fact that he is just overcome by evil spirits in a fit of rage, we decide to ignore him and let him get it out of his system. During this time, he scoots from me, to Maggie, to Daddy, to Roxie and back again, kicking each of us on the ankles in frustration, all the while screaming and crying with his little face swelling up and burning red. I can’t help but laugh during this time because

1) The whole situation is so ridiculous and I’m trying not to let it get to me (although sometimes I want to run out of the house screaming myself because it is JUST SO HARD to endure this kind of thing sometimes), and

2) When he is making his rounds trying to kick each of the people/dogs who love him most dearly in the world, he is just so cute. I honestly don’t believe that he is trying to be aggressive; he’s just working out his frustrations. The funniest part about it is that his kicks are so light and soft, they feel almost endearing, like a whisper-soft brush of the hand. They make me want to scoop him up and smother him with kisses.

Eventually, after letting him work it out, Charlie calms down and returns to being the sweet, bright-eyed boy that we know. The metamorphosis is almost frightening because I can visibly see the tantrum drain from his face and limbs and then seconds later, he will look up at one of us with a giggly smile. Relief that the episode has passed washes over the entire house, and I no longer feel the prickly nervous sensation throughout my body.

At that very moment, he scoots over to my feet and pulls himself up to standing, reaching for me to pick him up. I raise him up; he looks me in the eyes and leans in for a giant hug.

Slacker

2007-10-17T18:32:00.000-05:00

I realize that I have been a complete slacker about posting lately. Let's just chalk it up to having less time these days. I work full time, Charlie has decided to throw his awsome sleeping schedule out the window, I'm taking two classes, AND my job is requiring me to go above and beyond the typical workday becuase of The Big Read. Whew! I'm busy. Notice that the book in the "What I'm Reading" graphic to the right has not changed in months. And that's no mistake; I'm still reading it. I figure I'll finish it in time to start a new book around Christmas.

So, on with the update.

Germantown Festival
Sometime way back in early September when it was still excruciatingly hot, I took Charlie to the Germantown Festival with Nana and his cousins. It was fun and relaxing. And even though it was all the way out in Germantown, I really liked the atmosphere because most of the booths were draped by the pine trees in the park. Instead of walking down a paved street with the sun beating down on our necks, we cruised around in the shade with the cushion of pine needles under our feet.

Cooper Young
The following weekend, we hit the Cooper Young festival. Cooper Young, a much hipper festival, was okay. I used to love to go and check out all the booths, listen to music and enjoy the day. This year, I felt like I had seen it all before. In fact, it seems as if they same vendors are in the exact same booth location every year, which makes the festival a little mundane. Year after year, I get a déjà vu feeling once I step into the First Congo parking lot. That said, we had a good time, listened to some good music, bought a cute wooden toy for Charlie, ate ice cream and fretted while we watched Charlie attempt to “play” with his first balloon. Little did we know when the nice people from the Central Animal Clinic gave us the balloon that he would immediately try to bite into it! It was not a pleasant experience trying to take it away from him. After that debacle and finishing off the ice cream, it all went downhill. Charlie cracked and the screaming commenced. Who knows how many people we ran over trying to get to our car before the full on meltdown began? So, if you were at Cooper Young and were trampled by a woman with a screaming toddler with a face smeared with ice cream and green balloon bits in his hair, sorry!

U of M game
After the festival (and a nice long nap), we went to the University of Memphis football game. It was Charlie’s first. He was more in awe of all the cheering people than the game, but I think he had good time. We made a timely exit at halftime and thus avoided any further meltdowns for the day.

Oatmeal
Charlie has moved way beyond being spoon-fed. In fact, I don’t think he will let anyone feed him ever again. He wants to be in control, and I’m cool with that. He is so proud of himself when he gets even the tiniest morel from his spoon to his mouth. Most of the time, though, it all just ends up on his chin. Recently, he discovered a way around the messy spoon to mouth thing. He just drinks all of his food. Here, he demonstrates the proper way to drink oatmeal.

Climbing
Last week, one of Charlie’s teachers asked if he does a lot of climbing at home. At the time, I had not seen him do much of anything except scoot his way across the room and pull him self up with the assistance of the coffee table. So, no, I told her, I haven’t noticed him climbing lately. The weekend following, I saw evidence confirming her inquiry. Does attempting to scale the ladder into the attic constitute climbing?

Vacuum
Recently, I wrote a post about Charlie’s affection for the vacuum. At the time, we had a 1999 Hoover that did not do much hoovering. Not that we didn’t put forth the effort. The thing was just too old and could not contend with all the dog hair. And then, one bright and sparkly day, we headed to Target for a little light shopping. We walked by the vacuum cleaner displays and drooled over the Dyson. We noticed the $100 off advertisement and could not control ourselves. Before either one of us could say no, the box was in our cart and we were heading toward the register. And now, we have the most perfect fur sucking machine ever invented. This thing is crazy good. One even more crazy thing is being able to see just how much dirt and dog hair builds up on our floor in just a matter of days. Ick. But, the Dyson faithfully sucks it up, and we can rest easy that Charlie isn’t going to cough up a fur ball any time soon.

Trash Day
Tuesday’s in our neighbor are trash days. Each Tuesday around 7:45 a.m., we hear the squeaky brakes and the loading of garbage and recycling into the sanitation trucks. The new element of trash day is Charlie’s insistence that someone hold him up to the window so he can watch the trucks and the workers do their jobs. It is very cute and always calms him if he’s having a bad moment. Now that’s just one more reason to thank our sanitation workers for the job that they do!

Zoo
Last weekend, we made another trip to the zoo. We have a membership, so it makes going to the zoo a lot more enjoyable. Since we can go any time, we don’t have to worry about seeing everything all in one day. On this trip, we went to the Once Upon a Farm exhibit. Now that was fun! In all the times we have been to the zoo over the past year, we have not once gone anywhere close to the farm exhibit. I didn’t even know it was there! We saw goats, chickens, horses, pigs, and cows. Charlie even got to pet a cow, who smiled for the camera as the Professor snapped the photo. If you haven’t been to that particular exhibit, I highly recommend it.

Charlie also rode the carousel for the first time. He was visibly excited and even grooved a little to the music.

Bed Head

2007-10-16T23:22:00.001-05:00

Go Al!

2007-10-12T08:11:00.000-05:00

I only recently watched An Inconvenient Truth. I was really impressed with Al Gore's ability to discuss environmental issues in such a meaningful and truthful way. If you have not yet seen it, I suggest you do. Since watching the film, we have made a few small changes at our house (in addition to the Professor and I carpooling each day, starting about 2 months ago). It's really EASY to be a friend to the environment! I decided that the next house we buy (because hopefully we'll be in it longer that 3-5 years), I want to use and organic soybean based foam insulation. I saw it on Living With Ed, one of my new favorite shows.

Congrats, Al on winning the Nobel Peace Prize!

Never again

2007-10-01T22:59:00.000-05:00

Yes, we have all said it before, but I am dead serious this time. Never Again. I am never drinking again.

Friday night, the Professor and I went to an all-adult dinner at a friend's house. All week we looked forward to a night out sans kid. We had plans! And they didn't include being home by an 8:00 p.m. bedtime!

Well, the dinner was great and we had a fun evening with Tiff, Mark, and the Chockley's. We had some great food, played a little Taboo, and drank some wine. I mean, I drank lots of wine. Too much wine. So much wine that the weekend was ruined.

I had a mean hangover on Saturday, and all of my big plans to get lots of homework completed were foiled. We also had plans to go to the fair, but having gotten little work done (and the headache) made us change our minds. And the cold that was on it's way out (the one that I had planned to kick completely over the weekend)? Well, that cold came on in an even fuller force on Sunday, leaving me with clogged ears and nightmare congestion. That made for a nice Sunday evening of childcare, laundry, and homework.

So, I am never drinking again. At least not until this weekend. But this time, I think I'll stop at two. Two glasses, that is.

TBR

2007-09-27T07:56:00.000-05:00

The pink eye is behind me after a week of dousing my eyes, yes, both of them, with antibiotic eye drops. Fortunately, Charlie’s pediatrician gave us several refills during our last bout of pink eye, stating that Charlie’s parents could use them, too, when we inevitably contracted the nastiness of conjunctivitis. There was no “if” involved in that conversation. Dr. Y. knew it was just a matter of time. You see, that is why I love our pediatrician. He cares about the sanity of the whole family and not just the kid.

And now, with the stress of icky gooey red eyes behind me (and the embarrassment and need for explanation for why I look like I have been crying all night), I have a new stress in my life. And, as usual, this stress involves work.

As I have stated before, I work at a college as an administrative assistant. Actually, I am an administrative assistant II, which in essence means I am more than a secretary. In addition to typical office duties, I help to coordinate grant programs. Our newest adventure is a grant the college received this summer for The Big Read. This is a really exciting program (you can read more about it here and here), but it is so totally far removed from what I typically like to do. Why, you might ask? Because I find event planning of all sorts to be extremely difficult and ridden with anxiety. I am just not the kind of person who thinks about the behind the scenes details of special events, like making sure a panelist has a bottle of water, or making sure an esteemed speaker has a parking spot reserved, or making sure I have ordered enough cloths AND skirts for the tables. Ick! It is just is not fun for me. In fact, when planning my own wedding, I took an “I don’t really care” kind of approach mostly because I did not want to have to worry about the details that could possibly go wrong. The fewer details (like an ice sculpture, or the perfect flowers, or the release of butterflies at “I do” – all that extra stuff), the less I had to worry. And, my wedding was perfect because all I cared about was getting married and having a fun night for our guests.

So, The Big Read is forcing me to step outside of my comfort zone, and at times, I’m okay with it and at others, I just want to run away and hide out in a cabin in Wyoming somewhere. It is a lot of hard work and oftentimes, I feel like I am dangling off the side of a mountain on my own, guessing what I should do next. The Professor says that he is sure something good will come from all of this hard work. Surely, it won’t be some kind of lateral promotion for a job in event planning. That would really put me over the edge.

Photos that do not display any battle scars

2007-09-10T11:58:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I posted any pictures. Here is what Charlie looks like now. He has recently begun to attempt to stand up on his own and will soon be brave and confident enough to take his first steps. Look out world! But...he also has the battle scars to prove his new found skill - a bruise on the forehead, a small cut under his chin, and a puncture wound (a small cut from his tooth, actually) on his tongue. I don't have any pictures of them, so the ones below will have to suffice.

Tickled Pink

2007-09-10T07:52:00.000-05:00

Lately, Charlie has been suffering from the pain that accompanies monstrous molars forcing their way through his gums. And let me tell you, it’s been fun! Not only does my poor baby cry in pain and agony, he also has difficulty sleeping because of these beasty teeth. For the past few weeks, he has cried in his sleep because of the pain, and frequently, he wakes up completely, forcing the Professor or me to pick him up and cuddle him. Usually, a little dab of Orajel or a few teething tablets do the trick and he is back to sleep in minutes. But on a few recent nights, he has been almost inconsolable, forcing us to put him in the bed with us in hopes of getting a little sleep. When we do this, he usually falls asleep fairly quickly, but the night ahead for us is miserable.

Last night, it happened. He woke around 11:00 p.m. It started with a little whining and grew to full on screams. I picked him up, cuddled him, rocked to him, and sang to him. Fifteen minutes later, he fell asleep. I slowly and carefully put him back in his crib, but the moment his head hit the mattress, he was awake again and crying. Next, I tried to put him in the bed with me. He seemed to be comfortable for a moment, but then started screaming. Again. It is now almost midnight.

Finally, the Professor woke, scooped Charlie up and sat with him in the den. Within 10 minutes, he was asleep (Daddy’s cuddles must be better). He brought him back to bed with us where he slept soundly for most of the night. Occasionally, he woke with a start, but when he woke up this morning, he sat up and smiled a big toothy grin at the Professor and me.

The Professor and I, on the other hand, had a night of fitful sleep with little Charlie feet in our faces and ribs, a few whacks in the face with his chubby little hands, and a couple of times, I woke to find that I was mere centimeters away from being shoved out of the bed. I am hoping that tonight will be much more peaceful. Please! Let tonight be full of sleep at our house.

To add to the discomfort of a sleepless evening, at 5:00 a.m. I woke to turn over (I woke up because I am deathly afraid of flopping on top of Charlie and smothering him). When I tried to open my eyes, I couldn’t get them to open. They were glued shut. “Were you just that tired” you may ask? Nope. I wish. They were glued shut because I somehow got pink eye in both eyes. Charlie had a mild case of it a week ago, and I guess with all of the nose wiping and smooching on my baby, I contracted that lovely infection. Ick! So if you see me out this week and feel the need to ask me what’s wrong because I look like I’ve been crying for three days straight, don’t worry. It’s just pinkeye.

Back to School Part II

2007-09-07T07:55:00.000-05:00

I started school last Monday. I am taking two graduate classes – one is on-line and one meets one evening a week. So far, so good.

I really enjoy the classes and I feel great about getting back into the educator mindset, especially in the realm of teaching foreign language. Sometimes when reading or working on an assignment, I wonder why I never took this route before. It just seems like the perfect fit for me. My only concern is getting all of the work done. These classes are demanding, and I am finding it difficult to find time to focus on them for any long stretch of time. With work, Charlie, dogs, and life, it will be a struggle. But, it’s a struggle I am willing to work with because I know (hope) that in the end, it will be worth it.

Thanks to Gammie and Nana for helping take care of Charlie on the weekends so the Professor and I can study!

More Words

2007-09-05T12:05:00.000-05:00

Tiger

Moo (every time he sees a picture of a cow or something that looks remotely like a cow) Another funny Charlie-ism lately is his ability to pant like a dog. I am proud to say that I taught him this one. We have a little dog book (thanks Aunt Tiffany!) and on the very first page is a dog named Missy. Missy is an English Bulldog with a huge wide open mouth and is panting. Her smile is contagious, making Charlie smile and yes, pant. It's the cutest thing I think he's done so far in his life. Well, the cutest next to giving Mommy hugs and kisses.

Some of the words thus far…

2007-08-31T12:06:00.000-05:00

Daddy

Mama (finally!)

Uh-oh (He tried to say this word during his very first attempts at speech)

Maggie (pronounced Aggie - this was is first official word and "Daddy" was second)

Roxy (pronounced Oghy with a short "0" like ox)

Doggie

Car (this is usually the word for anything with wheels: a car, a truck, a wagon, etc.)

Cookie (pronounced co-ka with a long “o”)

Cracker (pronounced ka-ka)

Truck (on occasion)

Mmmmm (when eating something yummy of course!)

Ball

Cat

Sock

Cup

Belly (pronounced beh and stated only in combination with patting himself on the belly)

Ahh? (as a question as if to ask, “what is that?” or “can I have that?”)

Ahhhhhh…(in combination with a smiles and a razz sound with his tongue on his teeth – this is usually a sound of mild laughter or being pleased with himself)

AHHHHH!!! (screamed in a moment of slight rage when wanting something that is out of reach)

Back to School

2007-08-20T07:25:00.000-05:00

It’s back to school time in Memphis. The Professor heads back to work this week. Charlie went back to school on last week. And me, too…I’m headed back to school as well.

Over the past months I have been struggling with Project What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up. I have considered many things from careers in healthcare for humans to healthcare for animals to more grant-writing/grant management possibilities, and I have even toyed with the idea of going to back to what I was trained to do – teach high school English. I have spent hours upon hours researching different career possibilities, determining what kind of education I might need for the different options. I have considered quitting my job to go back to school and go back to the life of living on student loans, digging my family into an even deeper financial debt. If I had a real passion to drive me back to that lifestyle, I would probably do it. But, since I do not have an intense passion toward any of these choices, another bout at long-term full-time school is not a viable option. It just isn’t worth the risk to me. And since I already live in extreme panic about the debt my finally already lives with, I really cannot fathom what acquiring more debt would do to my psyche.

Several months ago, while agonizing over my career (or lack thereof), I made the leap to apply with the Memphis City and Shelby County school systems. At the time, I truly felt like teaching was the choice for me, as long as I was in an okay school. See, the school systems in Memphis, particularly the Memphis City School (MCS) system, are not the most respected or supported school systems in the country. MCS’s system is struggling. Many of its schools are in urban environments with high poverty levels and the problems that come from high poverty levels. These tend to equal to difficult experiences for teachers. It is not an ideal situation to want to be a teacher in the city of Memphis. And since I moved back to this city (my hometown) five years ago, I have been hesitant about even applying for a job in our schools.

Since I applied for a teaching position last spring, I have gone back and forth and ‘round and ‘round about this whole teaching thing. I know that I want my career to be meaningful. I know that I want to be involved in the community and do something for the greater whole. I love English: reading, writing, studying language, etc. I even attempt to be a grammar snob. I remember diagramming sentences in elementary school and loving it. But (here’s the big BUT), I don’t know if I can handle or even want to deal with the stress of being a teacher because let me tell you, it’s a hard job.

A couple of weeks ago, a thought crossed my mind that I had visited about a year ago. ESL. English as a Second Language. I remembered talking to a neighbor who is an ESL teacher in the Memphis City Schools. At the time, he said that ESL is the best kept secret for teachers. He had nothing but positive things to say about it and he intrigued me enough to seek out more information. I went to an ESL informational session and learned that there is a high need for ESL teachers in our city, and with my background in foreign language and with my current teaching license, I was a perfect candidate. I only had to take a handful of classes to get the certification, but at the time, I was not willing to even consider any more school. But now, well, now I think I may have figured it out! It seems to be just what I needed. I only have to take 5 courses to get the add-on certification, and I get to take them ALL on-line if I choose to do so. Wow!

So, for the moment, I am energized about this opportunity. I have registered for classes which begin next week. And hopefully, by this time next year, I’ll be in one of Memphis’ struggling schools helping kids who don’t speak English as their primary language. I am excited to see my future in this career. Just keep your fingers crossed that I don’t hesitate and change my mind by Christmas!

Say Cheese

2007-08-18T12:09:00.000-05:00

Charlie has always been one to humor his camera happy mother. He knows just how to turn on the charm when he sees then lens appear before his face. He often gets that look. You know, the look where he points his head slightly down and he raises his eyes as if to say, “I’m not sure I can trust you.” Well, he’s right. He can’t trust me with the camera because I am constantly snapping pictures of him and them on the Internet. What will he think of me when he’s 15 years old and knows that I’ve posted pictures of him for all the world to see? Pictures of him naked in the bathtub, photos with snot streaming down his nose, and heaven forbid a picture of him having a complete meltdown (such as the one below).

I guess I’ll just have to deal with that wrath later. Lately, Charlie has begun to modify his red carpet pose. Before, it seemed as if he would never smile for the camera. I would snap away to get the perfect shot of him and he wouldn’t smile until after I gave up and put the camera to rest. Now, he’s all smiles. Maybe it’s all those new teeth? Maybe he’s just trying to get me to put the camera away already! Who knows? Regardless of the reason, this boy is more than ready to hand out grins for the Nikon flashing in his face.

Self-feeding and happy feet

Pulling up (he can do it by himself now!)

Charlie and Maggie – his VERY best friend (although she doesn’t know it)

Charlie's first piece of intentional art

How I Spent My 8th Wedding Anniversary (continued from email correspondence post)

2007-08-15T07:55:00.000-05:00

This final piece of correspondence was written to the Professor on May 30, the day after my 8th Wedding anniversary. By this time, I have already recovered from the barfing sickness, which stole 2 days of my life (on the weekend, no less). I have packed for our trip even though I have realized that there is little to no chance at all that we will get Charlie's passport in time to leave on June 1. Times were not good.

5/30/2007
How are you? I hope your journey back to Ormskirk was uneventful and fast! Things here are going so-so. I had a pretty bad day yesterday and spent a lot of time pondering over that age old question of what the hell to do with my life. The good news is that we’re all packed! I’ve got everything in the bag except for bottles and toiletries. It’s definitely a relief to have that done. The bad news is that I still haven’t gotten Charlie’s passport. I spent most of last evening on the phone trying to get through to the passport people. I never got through. That place totally sucks! The other part of the evening was spent trying to soothe Charlie and washing Roxy.

When I picked Charlie up from school, he was obviously exhausted. He fell asleep in the car on the way home almost immediately. When we got home, we did our usual: play, eat, bathe, bottle, snuggle. I gave him some Dimetapp because his nose has been running for a couple of days (nothing major, though). I curled up with him on the couch and we looked into each other’s eyes for a while. He giggled when I rubbed his tummy and laughed when I stroked his cheek. And then, miraculously, he was asleep before 8:00.

At around 8:20, I decided to put him in his crib. I THOUGHT that he had been out long enough to be almost oblivious during the transition. WRONG! He woke up as soon as I stood up and started to cry. I put him in his crib and he started to scream. So, I held him. I tried to recreate the sofa snuggle, but that didn’t work. I rocked him. I took him outside. I turned on the sound machine and tried ocean and wind. Nothing worked. I decided to take him for a drive. His screaming was really relentless. I think he was in a bit of a stupor from the Dimetapp and it was making him feel weird. When I went outside to put him in the car, I let the dogs in. Roxy had rolled in poo, so I screamed at her and left her outside. We drove around for about 30 minutes and he continued to scream. It was awful and I was in tears. I finally gave up on the driving thing and went home. I put him in the big bed and he finally settled down. We looked at his books for about 30 minutes until I made him lay down. He quickly fell asleep. We lay there for a few minutes more, and then I put him in his crib. He cried a little when I first put him down, but I don’t think he had much fight left in him because he quickly fell back asleep. After I got Charlie taken care of, I washed the poo off Roxy and ended up giving her a full bath since she’s going to Kim’s.

When I finally got to bed just before midnight, I peeked in to check on him and he was face down and snoozing hard. He also had both legs sticking out through the slats of the crib. Because I’m crazy, I just had to readjust him. I really did it because I was afraid he might try to roll over or move and get stuck and start screaming again. So, I swiftly readjusted him and he hardly even noticed. I wanted so bad to take a picture of his feet sticking out, but I knew that would be dangerous. He looked a little like the Wicked Witch of the West after the house fell on her. I had to wake him up this morning, but I think he slept really well aside from the hour long screaming bout. No Dimetapp tonight, that’s for sure.

The next day, May 31 (my birthday) was spent at work, crying because I knew the passport wouldn't come. I spent the entire day scrambling trying to figure out some way to get this situation to go my way. Unfortunately, by around 3:00 I had to face the facts. I could either leave Charlie with grandparents and go on vacation without him. Or stay at home and ditch the vacation altogether. I decided on the latter - the decision was made on June 1 at 6:00 a.m. I arranged for Charlie to stay with my parents for the first week and the Professor's mom for the second. I can’t thank either of them enough for coming through on this one.

I then called Expedia to cancel Charlie’s plane ticket and see what could be done about transferring it to another time. Of course, the result of that phone call was disappointing. Basically, the ticket is valid for up to one year, it must be kept in Charlie’s name, and it must remain on British Airways (The ticket was on American but processed through British Air - huh?). That’s convenient. We’ll either have to eat the $1,000.00 that the ticket cost (because we have that kind of money just lying around in the sofa and in random drawers!) or plan a vacation somewhere in the UK by next June. Did I mention that every single flight we were on was on an American Airlines plane and that I never once even saw a British Airways plane or British Airways employee throughout the entire traveling process? I’m hoping that we’ll be able to work something out. Maybe Christmas in the Lake District? Spring Break in London?

We did finally get Charlie’s passport. It arrived sometime in mid-June while he was at a grandparent’s house and I was abroad. The government’s tightening of the passport rope for those traveling from Canada and Mexico was of course the cause for the passport delay, which was loosened while we were on vacation without our son. I guess I should feel lucky that I wasn’t one of those who missed their own wedding or honeymoon because of a passport delay. And really, our trip was probably better without our 1 year old in tow.

We actually got to celebrate our anniversary and my birthday while on vacation - at night, in a restaurant, and with wine. We celebrated in Ormskirk, Liverpool, Manchester, the Lake District, Whales, Dublin, and Galway. Had Charlie been with us, we would have been holed up in a hotel, probably with a bottle of wine and no corkscrew. Instead we repeatedly celebrated in restaurants with candlelight, wine in real wine glasses, hot food, and an infinite amount of time to linger.

This may be my longest post ever

2007-08-14T07:19:00.000-05:00

There is a perfectly good reason I have not yet written about my trip with the Professor in Ireland and the UK – the weeks leading up to it were 3 very difficult weeks of my life. They might possibly be the most difficult of my life. The Professor left on May 9 to begin teaching his class in Ormskirk, England. Had I the life I dream of having (SAHM), Charlie and I would have made the entire trip with him. But, since I do have to work and because I have limited vacation days, Charlie and I were not scheduled to leave until June 1. That equaled to 3 weeks and 1 day of single parenthood for me. I swear I do NOT know how single parents do that job every day. I feel extremely lucky to have a loving partner by my side.

In addition to the challenges of temporarily being a single parent, I also suffered through 3 weeks of what the excruciating bureaucracy of the passport office and customer service (if you can call it that) center. Apparently, if you do not submit the passport paperwork for your newborn six months before he takes his first breath in this world, he will never be able to travel abroad. Never ever. It takes that long.

So, while I haven’t yet organized myself enough to actually write about our trip, here’s a little (actually, it’s quite a lot) correspondence with the Professor to give a little insight into my life as a single parent/trying to get my son’s passport in time for our trip. I warn you now, this is long. And I really don’t expect anyone to read all of it. It’s mostly for me anyway.

[All of the following emails are excerpts of emails from me to the Professor unless otherwise indicated]

5/14/2007
We miss you, too. Charlie has been a little extra fussy for the past couple of days. I think it's because he misses you and is wondering where the hell you are. But, I didn't mind the extra snuggle time this morning while trying to soothe him.

I'm glad to hear that your class went well. When I tell people about what you are doing, they inevitably say, "I want to take that class!" So, I guess to goes to say that if you offer that class next year, it will probably fill up quickly.

[Note: The class was a history of British Rock, with an emphasis on bands in Liverpool and Manchester.]

5/14/2007 (later that same day)

I went to the Outdoor's Outlet on my lunch break to look for a jacket. With the frigid air conditioning in here and our conversation about the cool weather there, I was motivated to find something. I found a nice Columbia fleece/water resistant jacket. I like it. I actually wish I had it on right now. And it cost half the amount of the jackets I found at the regular Outdoors.

Since I was saving so much money and because the only raincoat I could find for Charlie was like $50, I settled on buying him a super marked down fleece pullover. It is so soft and cuddly, and I am sure it will keep him warm while cruising in his stroller. Here's a picture of the fleece I got him.

[Note: I went to buy these items because of the Professor’s suggestion:
One suggestion, bring an umbrella and a couple of sweaters. It's chilly and has rained the majority of the time I've been here. Not heavy rain, but a constant light rain that you don't want to walk in for very long unless you want a wet head.
By the time I got to England, temperatures rose to the high 80s. The sun was blazing the entire time I was there. So, the need for a light jacket and fleece for Charlie was moot. Instead, I needed a pair of shorts and sunscreen. Did I pack those items, you ask? No.]

5/14/2007 (even later the same day)

I'm glad you are enjoying the posts. I'll try to put a little something on there every day. I'm looking forward to knocking back a few pints with you in less than a few weeks!

5/14/2007 (and even later)

[Below is from the Professor]

Cathy,

I just got back from Liverpool an hour or so ago. It was a nice way to spend an afternoon. The Beatles museum was OK, but I really enjoyed the Magical Mystery Tour bus that took us around to all of their birth places, Penny Lane, Strawberry Fields, and the Cavern Club. We might want to do it again when you and little C get here. Or at least, we can tour Paul's house. The bus tour guide said it is a nice tour, and it is close to Penny Lane, so you can see that too. As we were riding on the bus today, I was thinking about how much you and Charlie would have enjoyed it.

I just looked at Charlie's blog. Thank you so much for posting so many pictures for me. He looks so big in the pool! The Easy Way pictures are terrific.

I am sorry that I forgot to wish you a happy mother's day yesterday. Boy do you deserve it. I hope you know that I think you are doing a great job as Charlie's mother. He is very lucky to have such a caring and loving mother. I am lucky to have such a strong and beautiful woman as my wife. I hope we never have to spend another mother's day apart so that I can lavish you with the attention and pampering that you deserve on each and every one of them.

I am excited that you will be here in 17 days. I know the time will pass quickly. We are going to have a great time when you get here.

[My response]

I am tearing up as I read this - probably because I miss you and probably because I am tired. I'm having trouble getting to bed at a decent hour because of all the stuff I'm trying to do. Once I get Charlie to sleep, I still have to keep going with food and clothes for the next day, bathing the crap off of Roxy, dishes, etc. You know the drill. It's definitely harder without you, but we'll manage. I am looking forward to Sunday when I get to sleep in. Charlie will spend the night with my mom because Tiffany and Stephanie are taking me out for my birthday (this Saturday is the only time that everyone is in town at once). We plan to have wine, cheese and appetizers at Bari. YUMMY! So, Charlie will spend the night at Nana's, and I get to sleep in. Yea! But then I get to mow the lawn while he's still at her house. So far, the grass hasn't gotten too tall, but we had a big rain/thunderstorm this afternoon, which is supposed to continue throughout the night, so by Sunday, the grass will definitely be in need of a cut. Blah, blah, blah. I'm sorry I'm babbling; it's the sleepies.

I love you and miss you and can't wait to see you. I think the tour of Paul's house sounds nice! I've started reading Bryson's Notes from a Small Island and am loving it. He’s hilarious.

5/16/2007

[The Professor wrote…]

I wish so much that I could be there to help out. I promise that I am going to do EVERYTHING for the rest of the summer when we get back. I'll make your lunch for you, iron your clothes. EVERYTHING. Please don't feel obligated to keep up with the blog every day for my benefit. I know you have tons else to do.

I'm happy to hear that you are getting a break this weekend for your birthday. I am jealous about Bari. The cafeteria food here got old after the second day. I have to run back to class.

I love you. You will be here soon.

[My response]

Thanks, baby. I didn't mean to complain; I'm just extremely tired. Still tired today, too. Yesterday, I vowed to do the minimal work and committed to doing a lot of sitting around last night. Of course, Charlie was not sleepy and didn't go to sleep until after nine. We sat on the couch and watched the season finale of Survivor.

While watching, Charlie was beginning to snuggle in and fall asleep. Then, BOOM, a big burst of thunder. We both jumped, and I immediately got up to get a flashlight. Once I had the flashlight, Charlie could not take his eyes off it. I finally just gave him the little one and he played with it and chewed on it for close to an hour. He finally fell asleep in my arms with the orange flashlight in his hand and resting on his lip in a drooly mess. It was cute, but I wasn't able to get a picture.

5/17/2007

Sounds like you were in for a rough day. I hope the headache and dry mouth and sleepiness isn't too bad. I haven’t had any alcohol since Saturday. I think about getting a bottle of wine, but then I'm either too tired or I forget because I'm too tired, and by the time I remember, Charlie's already in bed. So, your not being here has kept me pretty sober.

Things here are ok. When I picked Charlie up from school yesterday, the teachers said he barfed twice - once he threw up entire lunch of peas and carrots and then he barfed a whole bottle later in the afternoon (He also threw up a little earlier that morning). I was worried, but when we got home, I made a point to just snuggle with him and take it easy. He didn't have a fever, seem particularly fussy, or even seem to feel bad. I gave him some fruit and he ate it all. Then crackers, which he scarfed down. He was hungry!

So, when I went to make him a bottle of milk, the thought occurred to me that maybe it was the milk. I had just opened a new carton of milk the day before yesterday - Tuesday (he also threw up a little on Tuesday morning). I bought two 1/2 gallons of organic milk on sale at Wild Oats (expiration date June 18). So, I decided to feed him straight formula last night and today to see what happens. So far, no more puke. Of course I sniffed the milk, which didn't smell particularly sour but didn't smell good either. But, it seems that when I smell something to see if it has gone bad, inevitably it smells foul. So, I'm just going to open the 2nd 1/2 gallon of milk tonight, and if that makes him puke, I'm taking it back to the store. From now on, I'm going to Easy Way and buying local and fresh milk. Screw the organic stuff - especially since it probably has to travel from California!

[It turned out not to be the milk but a nasty bug that everyone within breathing distance caught. I happened to get it the following weekend. It was so bad that I barely missed throwing up all over Charlie one evening after work.]

5/18/2007

Thanks. I hope you have a good time on your trip. I think Charlie will be fine. My mom is taking him to the doctor this morning. Notice, it's 9:00 my time and I just got to work. Driving back and forth to Germantown is awful! How did we do that every day for so long?

I'm feeling pretty lousy today. I'm just tired but I've been tired for about a week now and it's catching up with me. I hope to be able to go home and get in bed early and sleep late. Hopefully Charlie will be feeling better and can have some milk in the morning. Then, we can snuggle up and go back to sleep!

Only 14 more days! Exactly 2 weeks from now, I'll be scrambling trying to pack out last minute items! Yea!

[Note: What I think is just being tired is the actual barfing sickness coming on.]

5/21/2007

I am FINALLY starting to get excited about our trip! I've only got to get through this week, and then we'll be is as good as gone! I'm still a little concerned about Charlie's passport, though. But, in addition to starting a packing list (the first draft at least), I plan to do a little research on the passport. I found a place on-line where you can check the status, but I need Charlie's SSN to check it, and of course, I don't have it memorized yet. I'll check on it when I get home tonight.

Charlie seems be feeling better. No puking or diarrhea yesterday. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I don't get a call from school. We had a good morning. I was able to get up and get completely ready before he got up. So, we had plenty of time to hang out and laugh. When I was feeding him some apple sauce, he made cute little "yum, yum, um, um, yum" noises that made me laugh. Then, when I laughed, he would laugh, showing me all of his teeth. It was fun.

5/22/2007

No sprouts, yet. But it's hard to tell with all the weeds. I did water last night. The poor hydrangeas looked like they might croak. I was amazed to go back outside just 20 minutes after watering, and the hydrangeas had perked up and looked as healthy as they ever have.

Things are going well here. Charlie was a bit of a shit this morning. He was really just in a bad mood because he woke up while I was in the shower, and I made him wait until I got my make-up on before going in there. He was screaming by the time I got there with a bottle of milk. I think that was just a hard way for him to start his day because he was in a bad mood throughout the feeding but perked up when it was time to dry my hair. By the time it was time to leave, he was in a much better mood. I dropped him at school only to find out TODAY that YESTERDAY he had another gigantic poo. They said the bananas might be making him constipated. The bananas that I have been feeding him to battle the diarrhea he had Thursday-Sunday. Of course I packed bananas again today but certainly would have packed something else had they informed me of his bowel obstruction YESTERDAY. Whatever. He'll eat bananas (mixed w/fresh peaches) today, and I'll saturate him with prune juice tonight. At least he's back on the milk which makes for a much happier Charlie.

When I got ready to head out the door of the his room, I leaned down to give him a hug and a kiss. He stood up, leaned against me and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug and wouldn't let go. I'm sure he was just enjoying standing, but it felt like such a great big loving hug, I almost scooped him up and went home with him. But, the clock ticked and I was close to running late. So, I had to let him go. It was so sweet. You are going to LOVE his new hugging ability. I really can't wait until he sees you next week. He's going to be so excited! I can just see his little arms and legs pumping vigorously in anticipation of you hugging him.

I tried to call/email/online search about his passport yesterday. The on-line application status system is broken. It says something like, "if you receive this kind of # in your search, please call the 1-800 #." Of course I got the kind of status number they described. So, I called, and called, and called, and called. It's a very long recording detailing every way you can get passport information (and none of them seem to work at the moment). Then, the system asks you to hold and then you immediately get diverted to a message saying that all lines are busy, please call back. They are open until midnight eastern time. I called every 1/2 hour to hour from about 6:30 until 11:00 and got the same f-ing useless system every time. It won't even allow you to wait on hold! So, I filled out an email request form. Supposedly, I will get a response about the status of his passport in 2 days. But, if it's slated to be mailed on May 31, what am I do to? I can't get in touch with anybody!

I also called Congressman Cohen's local office and left a message asking for help. I'm trying not to freak out. My next step is to keep calling and ask the lady in our study abroad office if she has any pointers. Wish me luck!

5/23/2007

I know you are on another exhausting excursion today, but I wanted to give you an update. I finally got through to the passport office (after hitting redial about forty times one after the other), and they told me that Charlie’s passport stuff is still in New Orleans at the processing center. Basically, the lady told me that she would send an email to the center to expedite his passport with a request that I have it in my mailbox by May 31. I have to call back on Friday to make sure the expedition is actually taking place. I asked the CSR what I needed to do if they had not in fact begun to expedite his passport. She said I would need to make an appointment at the regional passport agency – in New Orleans. WTF? Anyhow, I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that a) I can get through to them on Friday [Friday, the day the vomiting began for me], b) they have begun to expedite it, and c) it actually gets here before we need to leave. I just can’t believe the stress this is causing me. I’m trying not to get upset about it, but really. I can’t believe they are cutting it this close. The lady on the phone tried to assure me that this timeframe is actually “good in passport time.” I still don’t feel good about it. So, if I haven’t received it by next Wednesday (May 30), I’m going to call the airline and see what the penalty will be if we have to change our tickets.

In addition to my stress about the passport, I am also EXHAUSTED. Charlie did not go to sleep until 10:00 last night. Tiffany came over and I think he was just too into the fact that someone else was there that he wouldn’t go to sleep. He finally conked out in my arms just after 10:00. Tiffany left and then I got on the phone to try and reach the passport people. I finally got through after about 20 minutes of dialing and then waited on hold for 40 minutes, I kid you not. So, by the time I got off the phone with them it was after 11:00. I finally got in bed at around midnight. Then, Charlie woke up. He went back to sleep and woke up again sometime in the middle of the night, and then again at 5:30. He was really awake this time, so I got up and fed him, with hopes that he would go back to sleep. After his feeding, I decided that we both had to go back to sleep, so I called work and left messages that I would be late. We went back to sleep around 7:00 and slept until 9:00. I feel much better but I’m still tired. I think Charlie had bad gas. He was farting a lot and took a big poop and then kept on farting. Otherwise, he seems fine. I guess I’ll assume that his explosive farts woke him up in the middle of the night!

So, now I’m at work, tired, sad, and extremely annoyed by the day’s menial tasks that have and will get dropped in my lap.

You should check out Stephanie and Chip’s blog. They put some Charlie pics on there.

http://www.chockley.blogspot.com/

I love you and can’t wait to see you. Keep the good vibes going that Charlie and I will get to actually leave on the 1st!

5/24/2007

It sounds like you had a nice trip. MMMMmmm! Gingerbread!! You know I'm sold!

I still haven't heard anything more about the passport, but I plan to call back on Friday as instructed. I'm trying not to get too nervous about it and even plan to call airlines if I haven't received it on Wednesday to see what my options are.

While I would LOVE to revisit Scotland, I think we should go for Ireland since neither of us has ever been. But, I think we could actually visit Scotland since we haven't really seen much of it anyway. That's a tough decision. I'll continue to mull it over.

Yesterday was a little rough. I was tired from the night before with Charlie. We got home last night (after trying to go out to dinner with Diana and ended up leaving because he began to fall apart) and he had another difficult evening of trying to fall asleep. I think he's just going through a horrible phase. He almost fell asleep on the way home, but by the time I got him in the house and in his pajamas, he was wide awake again. But he was exhausted. So exhausted that he could not go to sleep. I tried to hold him, rock him, sing to him, feed him, but nothing worked. He just sat there rubbing his eyes, crying, and arching backward in a defiant fight against what he needed - sleep. Anyway, I finally got into the big bed with him and rubbed his back, and he fell asleep around 10:00. When I put him in his crib, he woke again for a little while, but it was nothing to force me to pick him up again. He slept until it was almost time to leave this morning and when he got up his hair was sticking up in every direction (sorry, I didn't get a picture). So, I'm hoping that this good night's sleep will get him back on track. I think with his illness and diet changes (I think I was giving him too many bananas for the poopy belly and now I'm cutting him off bananas for a while) and a couple of routine interruptions (Tiff came over Tues. for dinner, I tried to take him out to dinner last night), he's just been a little off track. I'm sure he misses you, too, which could be causing him to be grouchy. Missing you is definitely making me a little grouchy!

I'm looking forward to this weekend. I plan to pack most of our clothes and work to get the house in order before leaving. I'm a little worried about the amount of room I will have in my bag; I'm afraid I will sacrifice stuff for me to leave room for Charlie and end up bring only one change of clothes! Regardless, I'm looking forward to preparing for the trip, getting away from here, and spending time with you.

To be continued…(if you are even reading anymore)

Hot-Lanta

2007-08-01T12:17:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, we headed to Atlanta to visit with Aunt Robyn, Uncle Seb, and their five pets: Jake, Benny, Moe (the bearded dragon), Jules, and Tye. We had a wonderful time lazing around their house and enjoying each other's company. It was a great visit, and we are so happy that they are closer so that we can spend a lot more time with them.

Charlie was a great sport during the drive there. He only insisted we stop for a break twice. I guess this is one of those moments that I can appreciate that he is still in diapers.

In the park near Robyn and Seb's house. So much Kudzu!

Clapping with Aunt Robyn

We also visited the Geogia Aquarium.

Charlie and Uncle Seb checking out the tropical fish

Asleep before we even made it out of the aquarium grounds

Reading with Mommy

Aunt Robyn lets me play in the sink

Greeting Maggie when we picked her up grom Gamie's on the way home.

Career Opportunities

2007-07-26T20:16:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, the Professor, Charlie and I headed to Atlanta to visit the Professor’s sister, Robyn, and her husband Seb. They recently moved to Atlanta and are now living together in the same house, in the same city for the first time in their married life, something like 3 years. It’s a long story, but basically, they decided to get married the summer after Robyn started vet school in Indiana. At the same time, Seb was in San Diego working on his PhD. And now, alas, they are both finished with school! Robyn is now Dr. Robyn and working as a vet in Atlanta, and Seb is now Dr. Seb and working on a post-doc at an Atlanta university. Yea for them!

It was great spending time with them in their home. We enjoyed a weekend of playing with Charlie, enjoying each of their 5 pets (especially Moe, the bearded dragon), drinking at least 13 bottles of wine in a 2 day period, visiting the Georgia Aquarium, and simply relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.

I must say that I am a little envious of these two. They seem to be where they want to be. They are confident, successful, and positive about the future. Although I can’t say I would ever be willing to be separated from Neal for 3 years, I would love to have that drive that they both have that led them toward their decision to go to school in different parts of the country. Before they married, they both knew what they wanted and went for it, knowing that it would cause them a lot of heartache to be apart. They knew, though, that end the end, it would pay off. And they were right. It has. They are now together and doing what they want to do, and as far as I can tell, they are loving it!

So, since I’ve been back at home and back at work after having spent time with the in-laws who seem to have it all together, I’ve been agonizing over this whole job/career thing. Now that I have finally come to terms with the fact that I must work, I am constantly thinking about what I want to be when I grow up. My thoughts shift from one career to another, and most of my ideas would require more school. I am reluctant to dive into anything for fear that it will turn out to not be the right thing, putting me right back at the beginning again. It's a frustrating place to be, and I often feel trapped here, stagnant.

Recently, my boss told me about a "department" retreat that I am required to participate in. The goal of this retreat is determine the strengths of everyone in the division and work toward being a group that focuses on building on strengths rather than trying to repair or improve everyone's weaknesses. I like the concept, but it makes me a bit uncomfortable. When I took the strengths test, I kept wondering if it would be blatantly obvious that I am miserable in my job. I wondered if my bosses would look at my strengths and only see how they would benefit them, completely negating the point of the whole exercise.

I finally thought to myself, though, that this might be a good thing! Maybe this strengths thing will help lead me toward figuring out what the hell I need to be doing with my life. I suddenly felt energized to get to know myself better and understand where I best fit in the career world. And I hoped that this "test" would give me a better clue. So, out of 34 themes, my strongest themes are as follows:

Input: People strong in the Input theme have a craving to know more. Often they like to collect and archive all kinds of information.

Harmony: People strong in the Harmony theme look for consensus. They don't enjoy conflict; rather, they seek areas of agreement.

Adaptability: People strong in the Adaptability theme prefer to "go with the flow." They tend to be "now" people who take things as they come and discover the future one day at a time.

Restorative: People strong in the Restorative theme are adept at dealing with problems. They are good at figuring out what is wrong and resolving it.

Intellection: People strong in the Intellection theme are characterized by their intellectual activity. They are introspective and appreciate intellectual discussions.

I'm a little concerned about Harmony, but the others seem spot on. I am hoping that as I continue to analyze my strengths and career possibilities that I will eventually figure it all out. Who knows, maybe one day I'll end up being Dr. C-Dog Mama, but plain C-Dog Mama will be just fine, too.

Girl Fight

2007-07-19T07:54:00.000-05:00

To those of you who have expressed your support in regards to my last post, thank you. I am taking steps to finally finding my way through this, and really, just being open about it makes everything seem a little better.

Now, on to other things. I realize that I have posted virtually NOTHING about our trip, but I promise to do so once I get the photos organized. I also need to give myself an opportunity to wrap my head around all that we experienced while we were away because since we’ve been back, things have been busy. Part of me feels as if we never even went on vacation.

What I want to talk about today are my dogs. My gloriously sweet and funny dogs – both of whom have been attacked by other dogs within the past two weeks.

Case #1

The Professor and I decided to take Charlie and the girls, Maggie and Roxy to the dog park way out at Shelby Farms. This park is awesome, especially for a dog. The park, directly south of the horse riding area is a mostly fenced off span of park where dogs can roam and roam and sniff and swim and roll in leash-less freedom. There are trails, ponds, lakes, and of course other dogs! On days when we have the time and the weather is agreeable, we take the dogs to Dog Park and join multitudes of other dog owners and their beasts and just sit back and watch the dogs dive in and out of the pond chasing after sticks, balls, and each other. They have so much fun that the dogs are usually worn out in about 15 minutes. And my favorite part is that there is almost always some new dog owner wanting to show off his/her cute new sweet smelling puppy.

So, two weekends ago, we loaded up the car (sans leashes) and made our way toward the park. We strapped Charlie in the Baby Bjorn and let the dogs run loose down the trails toward the water. Maggie and Roxy had a very satisfying time sniffing trees, running, and pushing each other into the shoreline of the pond. We played with the other dogs, Roxy chasing sticks and swimming, Maggie barking at other dogs.

We finally decided to make our way back toward the car, taking the long way so the girls could run a little more and eventually dry off. While walking away from the pond, and seriously, we were only about 10 feet from it, Roxy flopped over on her back in the tall green grass to give herself a little back scratch, which is her custom. Immediately, I looked toward the pond in search of Maggie and instead found another dog running full speed toward Roxy. I thought he was playing, but no.

This dog, smaller than Roxy, dove on top of her and put his filthy, nasty teeth around her neck. I screamed and the Professor jumped over to try to remove this horrible canine from our harmless dog. After several attempts, the Professor got the other dog away, and its owner came running over with a baffled expression on her face. Once the heat of the moment was over, I realized that Charlie was screaming having witnessed the whole thing. Fortunately, he was strapped to me in the Bjorn, and I was able to quickly console him.

Roxy was fine, just a bit shaken up. Fortunately, she has gawky long legs with which she was able to push the other dog away. The attack dog’s owner was very apologetic; she said that she had never witnessed anything like that before. I’ll chalk it up to a misunderstanding between the dogs. A bit of playfulness gone bad, I suppose. It really did scare me, though, and our already skittish Roxy will not be better for it.

Case #2
We have a friend who lives in our neighborhood who has a dog that is Roxy’s almost identical twin. From time to time we trade dog sitting duties since we live so close to each other and our dogs typically like hanging out with each other. Roxy and her almost twin (I will refer to her as Ms. K going forward) especially like spending time together. Maggie? Not so much. When we go out of town, we usually take Roxy to the neighbor’s house and Maggie to an in-law’s house. Two additional dogs might be a little much for our neighbor and in her old age Maggie doesn’t really enjoy hanging with the younger beasts.

So, this week, we are watching Ms. K. Our neighbor is off in Maine for a week and half of glorious vacation (jealous!). Ms. K usually has a few bumpy days when she comes to our house. She is accustomed to much more attention, pampering, and treats than we parse out in our abode. She likes to sleep with her owner in her bed (eeww!); at our house, it’s the hardwoods, baby! When it storms, her owner cuddles with her and whispers that she will be alright; at our house, her only comfort is to hide in the bathroom. At her own home, her food is left out all day so she can nip and pick at it as she desires throughout the day; at our house, if you don’t eat during the 30 minute allotted dog eating time, you don’t eat .Our dogs ALWAYS gobble up their food in 5 minutes or less, and if Ms. K has not completed her food in that time, our beasts will attempt to snark her food away.

This brings me to Case #2. Last Sunday, we fed the dogs their usual dinner at around 5:00 p.m. Each dog has her own bowl and her own eating area. Maggie and Roxy routinely run back and forth between each other’s bowls to make sure the other did not get something special that she did not. With Ms. K, they usually sniff around her bowl in hopes that she will back away and share her food. Her food is something special because Ms. K is on a doggy diet and eats diet CANNED food at every meal (this totally pisses our dogs off who drool for canned food).

On Sunday, Maggie did her usual and went to Ms. K’s bowl for a little sniff in hopes of a nibble. Ms. K gave Maggie a warning growl. She was not up for Maggie’s antics. I looked over at the two girls and told Maggie to move away, and at that exact moment, when Maggie was not moving away, Ms. K turned on her. The following series of events (which lasted for all of 10 seconds) totally freaked me out.

Ms. K, who is bigger than Maggie, turned around and knocked Maggie on her back in one swoop. She proceeded to clamp her teeth (her teeth!) around Maggie’s neck. Maggie rolled over in an attempt to escape, but Ms. K put all of her weight on top of her and then put her teeth into the back of Maggie’s neck and then around her ear, threatening to bite it off. All of that weight of Ms. K (excuse me - the fat beast) was on top of our frail little Maggie who would not hurt a fly. They were growling, slobbering, and flailing; Roxy was barking and skulking away. Meanwhile, the Professor tried to get Ms. K off of Maggie. He had difficulty, but once Maggie rolled over onto her stomach, he was able to pull Ms. K off after a few attempts.

Did I mention that this whole situation freaked me out? Maggie is old and has arthritis in her back legs, so she couldn’t put much effort into defending herself. It was almost like watching some wild animal dive in and kill a helpless baby seal. It was awful. Charlie, poor thing, was screaming (thankfully he was safely in his high chair when this happened), I was shaking, the Professor was worried, and poor Maggie was limping, quivering and shaken up.

We immediately took Ms. K outside, assessed Maggie (who is fine) and tried to figure out what to do next. We decided to leave Ms. K outside for a while and give Maggie some time to recuperate. Our neighbor would not be back for another week, and we were worried about these two sharing the same house for the duration of her vacation. After we all calmed down, we agreed that debacle was strictly about food and power. Ms. K usually does not assert herself at all while at our house, so I guess she was just really hungry and tired of having to defend her meal. We eventually got Maggie and Ms. K together again. There was no growling, biting, or attacking, and Roxy served as a good mediator.

Since the incident, the girls have been well behaved. Ms. K gets fed outside on the porch, and Maggie pretty much avoids her altogether. Maggie has never endured a situation like that in all of her 12+ English Setter years. I think she may have seen her life flash before her eyes, she was so shaken up. The incident also showed me just how old and fragile Maggie is becoming. She is still vibrant and spunky, but her spunk can only keep up with her for about 5 minutes.

It makes me sad to think that we will probably lose her in the near future. I love that dog. I met her on a day shortly after I met the Professor. He had only brought her home a few months before I met him and I remember stepping into his house and being greeted by this very cute but very obnoxious puppy. Did I mention that I love her? I love everything from her jackrabbit run, to her sloppy jowls, to her floppy ears, to the cuddly soft fur, to her super-sweet disposition.

Oh, Lovely Vacuum

2007-07-18T12:29:00.000-05:00

While Neal has been at home for the past several weeks taking care of Charlie, he has also been an even super wonderful husband by keeping the house clean and tidy, doing the laundry (bless him!) and keeping up with the growth of what resembles grass on our lawn. One of the most important tasks in our house is vacuuming. With 2 very shaggy dogs who L-O-V-E to roll around in the grass and dirt, vacuuming is something that must be done more than once a week. It could probably be done every day. (And, I might add that the experience might even be pleasant if someone would just break down and buy me a Dyson already!) So, Neal is being the super wonderful husband that he is and is vacuuming regularly. When we returned from our trip, he quickly learned that Charlie loves the vacuum. One day, while sucking up the dusty fur balls and dead leaves tracked in from our beasts, Neal noticed Charlie practically exploding with excitement over this task. Neal decided to give Charlie a front row seat to this chore and put Charlie in the Baby Bjorn while he vacuumed. Apparently, Charlie kicked his legs, waved his arms, and squealed the entire time!

Not only does Charlie love the roar of the machine and the process of vacuuming, he also loves the machine itself. While in the kitchen, he will often scoot over to the closet where we house our Hoover. He struggles to open the door, and when he finally gets inside, he commences in an adorable routine of vacuum adoration. He points and grunts and smiles at it. Then he pokes at it and tries to hug it. It is seriously the cutest and funniest thing when he hugs the vacuum cleaner. Finally, Neal or I will take it out of the closet and put it in the middle of the kitchen floor where Charlie has full access to his beloved vacuum pet. Most of the time, we will lay the vacuum down on its back, giving Charlie every opportunity to investigate its many parts. His favorite, at the moment, is the underbelly where the sucking happens. He pokes around trying to determine just how this thing works. I swear, I would not be surprised if one day I leave him alone with it for 10 minutes and come back to find that he has completely disassembled the whole thing. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the next inventor of a new vacuum technology that will put the Dyson to shame!

Toast

2007-07-10T12:32:00.000-05:00

When Neal and I returned from our trip in Ireland and the UK, we both had a new affinity for toast. It seems like each and every morning, the British (and Irish) MUST HAVE TOAST. Regardless of what one orders, whether it be an omelet, oatmeal, fruit, or the full English breakfast equipped with sausage, beans, eggs, hash browns, tomatoes, AND mushrooms, every breakfast must have toast. I even saw people get upset if there was a wait on the toast – or as upset as the English can actually get. Toast is simply a staple of the English/Irish breakfast. Without toast, it seems that the day cannot begin. Thus, Neal and I ate toast for breakfast each and every morning of our trip/vacation. Toast with jam. Preferably, strawberry.

When we returned, we continued to eat our daily servings of toast with jam. This time, though, it was raspberry. We offered some to Charlie, who at first shook his head no, as if he did not like it. But, we soon realized that he does that with every new food. It’s his way of saying, “I’m not sure if I like this because I don’t know what it is. Therefore, I’m going to make you think I don’t like it by shaking my head. And then, if I do in fact like it, I will open my mouth wide and make noise until you plug it up with that food stuff that I actually like.” This was our experience with toast.

Initially, he didn’t seem too thrilled by it. He shook his head, and we didn’t force any more toast into him. The next day, we tried again, and he enjoyed sucking the sticky raspberry jam off of the toasted brown bread. Yum! Sweets for breakfast! And further on, he has gradually come to take full bites of toast with jam, often taking an enormous bite, smearing jam all over his cute chubby cheeks.

So now, each morning, Neal prepares a ½ slice of toast with jam for our little Charles, and for the most part, he gobbles it up. The funniest thing about this new morning ritual is the combination of Charlie’s scooting and toast munching. Neal gives Charlie a nibble, rather a chunk, of toast. Charlie mushes it around in his mouth while he scoots around the den and kitchen. He chews and chews with full cheeks while chasing the dogs, loving on the vacuum cleaner (this is another post), clapping his hands, and attempting to check out the contents of the garbage can. Then he scoots right back to Neal, looks up at him, and opens his mouth wide, demanding another sticky, jammy bite. Once he gets a sufficient mouthful, the process starts again until he’s either finished with the toast or just ready to move on to another exciting item of food.

By the way, we finally have Charlie weaned off the bottle! We decided to wait until we got back from our trip (under the idiotic assumption that he would go with us, and continuing with the bottle would help travel be more comfortable for all of us). So, a week after our return, we gradually started taking them away, and this past weekend, he had his last bottle. I really thought it would be more difficult than it was, but he has coped quite well and it’s almost as if he has forgotten about the bottle completely. I did make the mistake of looking at a parenting magazine with him the other day (we were looking at pictures of babies and pointing out the parts of their faces) and we came upon an ad with a baby holding a bottle. This made Charlie a little fussy, but we quickly averted his attention with one of his favorite books that moos.