Suspended in Amber

Sorry for the long absence

2009-11-20T14:23:00.002-05:00

Don't know when it's likely to end. There's a lot of big stuff going on right now,but not much of it is fit for public consumption. I'm hoping to get back to posting soon.

Well, Helloooooo

2009-09-23T08:28:00.003-04:00

I have a hard time remembering when TV shows that I want to watch are going to be on. I can watch a promo for a show that I think I want to watch, I make sure to note the day of the week, time, channel...and ten minutes later I can't remember a thing. (Not that I need any encouragement to watch more TV.) So, I was very pleased that I happened to catch The Good Wife after NCIS last night. I had seen the ads and thought it looked good - Julianna Margulies, Chris Noth, what's not to love? So when it started, I thought I'd just watch the first ten minutes and see if it was worth the trouble, since I should really have been going to bed.

So, the first scene, just a longer version of the promo...press conference, cheating husband, slap, blah, blah, blah. Next scene, staff meeting, blah, blah - and then! He stands up, he turns around, our eyes meet across a crowded room. Why, I didn't know you were going to be here...It's Josh Charles, one of my oldest and most elusive celebrity crushes. It all started with Dead Poets' Society, continued with Sports Night. And then he would disappear for long periods of time, only to pop up when I least expected him...random Law and Order episodes, In Treatment, S.W.A.T. (Yes, yes, I know. S.W.A.T. Thank you, FX weekend movies.)

So, I'm hooked. :) The rest of the show was actually pretty good, too.

The Death Talk

2009-09-18T18:53:00.004-04:00

I know I'm going to have to have this talk with Little Boy soon. There have been no major losses in our lives or anything, but when we hear the word on TV or see a frog that's been run over in the drive way, he has started to ask questions. I'm surprised at how much I've shied away from having to explain it him. I worry about scaring him and frankly, I just don't want to have to be the one to break it to him.

We went to a reunion for Mr. SiA's family recently, where Little Boy took interest not in all the relatives we had never met, but in the pinball machine in the host aunt's basement. It's not a side of the family we see often, so I guess you can't blame him.

During the visit, we ended up visiting the cemetery where Mr. SiA's father's family is buried. Some of the original founders of the town are buried there, and it was really interesting to see how they could trace their roots back so far. Little Boy was a bit confused over the purpose of both the place and our visit. We pointed to a headstone and said, "Look, this is Daddy's grandpa." He just kind of looked at us funny and wanted to know why he couldn't run all over and play. I tired vaguely to explain, but apparently I didn't do a good job. We said, "Over hear is Gram, Daddy's great-grandmother." He promptly piped up and asked, "Do you think she wants to play pinball?"

I thought my father-in-law was going to trip over a tomb stone and break his neck, he was laughing so hard.

*****

Then today, we were running errands and we passed another cemetery. Little Boy asked if we could go there. "Where?" I asked.

"That rock place. Will you and Daddy take me? I want to climb on the rocks."

Oh, dear. "No honey, that's a cemetery. They bury people there when they die. The people who loved them put the stones up as a way to remember them, so it would be very disrespectful to climb all over the rocks."

He seemed to accept this and we moved on with our errands and I thought I had gotten away with it for another day.

Then tonight at dinner Little Boy says to me, "Mommy someday I'll die and you'll go to the rock place and see my rock and know all about me."

I was appalled but I tried to stay composed and just said, "Baby, I hope that never happens," and gave him a really big hug. But of course he could tell I was upset, so he immediately grinned his little mischievous grin, and started singing, "When I die, die, die, die, die and you and Daddy come to the rock place and and I have my own little rock..."

How's that for a Death Talk? I'm dying (Ba-dum-bum) to know what he really thinks someone does when they die. There's a tiny little superstitious part of me that's a bit wigged out. At least the Sex Talk will be a piece of cake after this.

Will Moo Get Them Into Harvard?

2009-09-18T10:29:00.004-04:00

Can anyone tell me why we teach our kids what animals say? Or simple easy-to-pronounce word versions of the noises animals make? Barn-yard onomatopoeias?

I don't have anything against farm animal noises, seriously, I'm just curious. I was reading a book to Baby Girl the other night about, yes, farm animal noises and I just started to wonder at what developmental stepping stone this training was supposed to provide...

I mean, think about how many children's books, games and toys revolve around this concept. The shear volume seems to suggest it must be significant in some way, doesn't it? "The cow says moo, the pig says oink, the cat says meow..." Surely this serves some purpose in developing their cognitive function, or linguistic acquisition, or fine motor skills or one of those other neuro-psycho-whatsit brain functions we're supposed to be worried about as mothers, right? I understand why we teach kids colors, numbers, letters, shapes, emotions, days of the week, etc. but, really - will they be smarter, or happier, or more accomplished because they know that a duck says "quack"?

Or is it just a hold-over from our pre-industrial, agrarian society ancestors? Or is it just because farm animals make for cute children's book illustrations? Or is it just for fun? And fun is okay. Fun is a perfectly good answer.

When I did a student exchange in France, I remember we had an entire dinner-table discussion with my host family about the differences in the words we use for the noises animals make. The French don't say "moo" or "oink." I can't remember now what they do say, but it was pretty different. We were each amused and just a tad disdainful of the other language's attempt to capture the cries of common animals. I remember my host father found "Cock-a-doodle-doo" to be particularly hilarious. It made for great cross-cultural learning and gave us all a good laugh, but I really have to wonder why we need to know this stuff.

I'm genuinely curious. Does anyone know?

Big Changes

2009-09-04T07:53:00.004-04:00

We leave today for some time down south with family and when we return, Little Boy starts preschool. I had been so nonchalant about the whole thing, since this program is just two mornings a week and he was in full-time daycare for over a year. I was mostly thinking about how he'll enjoy the social interaction, and how they will be better than I am about giving him an outlet for all that energy, and how it will be nice to have some alone time with Baby Girl, and (selfishly) how much I will enjoy having a few quiet hours during my week. I just assumed that he would enjoy it and that he won't be afraid or lonely or anxious.

But then Mr. SiA and I went to the Parent Orientation Night this week and I realized that my first baby is going to PRESCHOOL. Suddenly all these doubts washed over me - will he like his teacher, will she like him, will he get along with the other kids, will he have fun, will he freak out during the morning drop off, is this The Right Thing? Mostly I know it is, I know that he is more than ready developmentally, I know that I can trust God with him even when he is out of my reach, I know that God directed us to a good preschool - but this sense of nostalgia and anxiety really snuck up on me.

I think the reason it was such a shock is that Little Boy and I have not been on the best terms the last few weeks. His Three-ness has continued to be a challenge - one that I am addressing with varying levels of grace and patience, to put it mildly. We are still - STILL - struggling to get him potty-trained. Four months later. It's to the point that he will only tell Daddy (if Daddy's home) that he has pooped in his training pants. And temper tantrums. And whining. And demanding. And endless noise of all kinds (talking, yelling, car noises, animal noises, machine noises, humming, singing, jokes, sirens...). And now some serious jealousy issues with Baby Girl. I know, on an intellectual level, that he is going through a totally normal phase of development and that I am not dealing with anything that other mothers don't have to handle. But I can't say that I'm really enjoying it right now, and I walk away from many interactions with Little Boy feeling like I've failed in some way. Which is why I was surprised at how sad it made me to think of him going away to preschool in a few weeks.

Baby Girl has hit a big milestone of her own recently - she is weaned from breast feeding. I had intended to go a full year with her, but she had her own plans. She started losing interest a few months ago, and it was to the point that she wouldn't even stay latched on long enough to trigger let-down any more. On one level, I was sad to let it go - it was a sign that the end of her baby stage is coming soon, and there's no telling whether any more babies are in our future. On another level though, I was pretty happy to get that last bit of my body back. My main source of angst about her weaning comes from the fact that it happened before Little Boy is potty trained. That just doesn't seem right.

But now it's time to go get both kiddos dressed and in the car - Beach, here we come!

Book Update

2009-08-05T10:41:00.011-04:00

I've actually been reading a lot this summer - apparently to the point where I haven't had time to update my reading list here. I went to the library last week and now I'm reading several books at once, which is unusual for me. It's leaving me a bit scatter-brained.

I finally finished Sherlock Holmes Volume I, and am dipping into Volume II. They're in a nice short format, so it's easy to go back to when I have time. I can't say that I'm really thrilled with them. Connan Doyle is strongest in stories like "Study in Scarlett" and "Hound of the Baskervilles" where he does more showing and less telling. Sadly, most of the rest of the work seems to consist of nothing but telling: the client tells the history of the case, Watson tells of the cursory inspection of the scene (at which he really doesn't notice much), and then Holmes tells how he figured it out. With no chance for the reader to really follow Holmes train of thought before the big reveal, it's not very exciting to me.

I re-read The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. I'll have to remember the next time I'm at the library how much I like her and check out some of her other work. When I read this before I was mostly interested in the daughters' perspectives, but now that I'm older I was riveted by the mother's point of view. I love Kingsolver's style and attention to detail. In general, I enjoy historical fiction because I feel like I'm learning something while also being immersed in the characters' personal narratives; and that is especially true here. And I just love the women that Kingsolver writes about - they are complex and flawed and engaged with the world around them.

I also sped through a few yard sale finds: In Search of Eden by Linda Nichols and Why the Sky is Blue by Susan Meissner. Both are Christian fiction on the theme of adoption. I tend to be sceptical of Christian fiction - whether that's fair or not, I don't know. The first was good, with a well told story and three-dimensional characters. No saints, no evil sinners either. The ending was what I expected, but I enjoyed the way Nichols got me there. The second I really didn't enjoy - it was emotionally manipulative and predictable, more interested in easy moralizing than good storytelling.

I'm also back into The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters, which I started last summer. Sadly, with baby-prep, I didn't get very far with it, so I'm trying again. With Baby Girl starting solids and Little Boy only eating macaroni-and-cheese these days, I have food on my mind. I find that I've been reading and hearing a lot lately about the importance of food, both its cultivation and its preparation. On Monday I heard this interview on NPR and I also picked up French Women for All Seasons by Mireille Guiliano at the library. All touch on this topic of the link between food- how we prepare it, how we consume it - and our individual and collective health. I guess I'm a little late when it comes to climbing on the organic/locally-grown/food-loving band wagon, and I can't say I'm totally there yet. I mean, I get what they're all saying, I just find it challenging to put into practice. I frankly don't have the time or money to put into tracking down sources of organic or local raw ingredients. And frankly, if I did, I wouldn't know what to do with them. I want to know how to cook well; I admire people who do. I admire people who are passionate about food. Sadly, I don't and I'm not. I love Top Chef, which I guess proves Mr. Pollan's point from his NPR interview about how we like to watch people cooking but are not doing it ourselves. But I'm determined to get through Simple Food and see what I can pick up. I even tried out a few of the recipes on my in-laws last week. They seemed to like them, which is a good sign, since they're pretty picky. And I noticed a difference in my attitudes that really excited me - I was a lot more conscious of the choices I was making at the grocery store. Even more, when I looked in my fridge afterwards, I felt this warm glow of pride and potential as I surveyed shelves of healthy, colorful, well-chosen food instead of containers of bad left-overs and processed junk.

I got Tess of the D'Ubervilles by Thomas Hardy at the library and read the first chapter of Light in August by William Faulkner. I love Hardy already, and I'm intimidated by what I've heard of Faulkner. I'm so distracted with other books that I think I'll save these for when I can give them my full attention.

Speaking of my full attention, it's currently devoted to Surprised by Hope by N. T. Wright. This exploration of the significance of Jesus' resurrection has been working my neurons and synapses over-time this week. The author is a Cambridge professor and Anglican New Testament scholar, and my brain has gotten a serious and much needed work-out. It has really challenged me to re-examine much of what I've absorbed and been taught about Jesus's purpose and achievement on Easter. I'm almost done with it but I already know that as soon as I get to the last page I'll be starting again from the beginning and this time I'll be checking his biblical references and taking careful notes. I miss reading like this. I don't always have time or attention for it, but I really enjoy the mental push-back. It's not just intellectual interest either. The challenge to my faith and assumptions has also been welcome and needed.

Sorry, this probably could have made about 6 different blog entries. It took me 3 different sittings to finish it. Hopefully it will take me so long to finish all these books that there won't be another entry like this for a while.

Designer Baby

2009-07-22T08:16:00.004-04:00

My mother-in-law is very sweet and never comes to visit without a bag full of cute baby clothes for the kids. She did it when it was just Little Boy, but even more so now with Baby Girl. Having only had boys herself, I think she really gets a kick out of having girls to shop for. :) She likes to shop at Marshall's. It's one of my favorite places, or used to be when I had time to pick through all their many racks of bargains. I only mention it because it means that she often shows up with "designer" baby clothes that she has found. She's not especially brand conscious; I really think she's just picking things she thinks are cute, but that's the kind of thing they have at Marshall's.
It really makes me laugh. Not at her, but at the concept of designer clothes for babies. I mean, do these designers know what babies DO in their clothes? Vomit, blow-out diapers, crawling around on the floor, etc? All those fine fabrics and trendy embellishments don't stand a chance. I end up feeling guilty when I'm wiping bodily fluids or strained vegetables off their little iconic embroidered logos.
Half the time, the clothes are really adorable, but totally impractical. Like the Calvin Klein velour track suit that Baby Girl wore this winter - turns out velour is like Velcro for all dirt she came across while learning to crawl. Or they have buttons, instead of much more useful snaps or zippers. Or they have snaps and zippers, but not in places that make it at all possible to actually dress a real-life, squirming baby. Yesterday she was in a little outfit by Ralph Lauren, which was cute and comfy and perfectly serviceable. However, it looked exactly like all of her Target or Carter's outfits except for the little embroidered polo player on the front. I shudder to think what someone paid for the full price version.
I'm very grateful for any gifts from my in-laws or anyone else, please don't misunderstand me. I'll take help with the kids in just about any form it comes. But I do worry about getting both kids sucked into any sort of snobbishness about brands. I know it will be a struggle we have to deal with eventually, but I thought we'd be able to put it off until their teenage years. I didn't think I'd have to worry about it while they were still in diapers. But I have to say, my kids sure do look cute. :)

Imagination

2009-07-20T16:47:00.004-04:00

Little Boy's imagination has really been reaching new heights lately. He seems to be enthusiastically grasping the idea of fantasy and playing pretend and story-telling. Also, his long-term memory is improving as well, so he remembers a lot more from the stories we read to him, the songs we sing, and of course, the TV we watch. That creates a lot of entertainment for Mr. SiA and me. Mostly because he puts together such fun and crazy ideas.

Today Little Boy wanted to play pirates. Easy enough, I thought. Naturally, our first step was to retrieve the logical vehicle for pirates the world over: our motorcycles. These we used to escape from our dog, or the "scariest monster in the WHOLE WORLD." Then we drove to the pirate ship (our play set), where I was dubbed the captain, while Little Boy would be filling the essential office of "Pirate." The difference? My duties seemed to consist entirely of squashing bugs. Little Boy's duties became clear when he announced with dismay that there were bad guys coming into our ship. He told me not to worry because he would "sword" them, and then they would have to go home to their mommies to get a band-aid. (Good to know we mommies are good for something, even to pirates!) Once these foul villains had been dispatched for some maternal first-aid and boo-boo kissing, Pirate Little Boy gazed through his telescope and announced that we had found, "treasure with an X on it!" Hooray! With our mission complete, it was time to go inside for lunch. And what do pirates eat for lunch, you ask? Peanut Butter & Jelly, of course!

Hello Mr. T-Rex

2009-07-04T08:39:00.003-04:00

Recently Mr. SiA played hookie with us and we went up to DC to meet some out-of-town friends. We had just enough time for about an hour at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. We took the opportunity to introduce Little Boy to some dinosaurs in person. They got along pretty well.

I love that we live close enough to do things like that. As the kids get old enough to appreciate more of the history of our great country, I plan to show them as much as I can of what the capital has to offer.

Happy 4th of July!

Saturday morning at our house

2009-06-27T15:14:00.000-04:00

Dog pile on Daddy!

Losing the battle

2009-06-27T14:43:00.005-04:00

So, I thought we'd been doing better on the TV front. We still have bad days, but on average, I thought Little Boy was getting less screen time. I'd given up on the poker chip system (too complicated) but I thought I was doing better about just saying no.

I assumed we had hit the lowest point a few months ago when we were driving around and he said, "Look at that frog on that sign, Mommy."

I said, "That's not a frog, honey, that's a lizard." Daddy chimed in, "It's a gecko."

"Oh right," said Little Boy in recognition, "he makes the car insurance."

But no. There was still worse to come.

Last night as I was giving him his bath, and he told me that we "need the power of Oxyc.lean in our home." In the salesman voice and everything. ARRRGH! Billy Mays is my son's imaginary friend, it would seem.

Do you think he'd believe me if I told him all our TVs are broken?

This and That

2009-06-25T19:25:00.002-04:00

Hi! I didn't realize it had been three weeks since my last post! I've started composing several in my head lately, but I guess I haven't been at my computer long enough to get anything down. Things have been busy, but the same. Baby Girl is non-stop action now - crawling, pulling up on everything. Yesterday, she even wanted to sit on her big brother's tricycle. She practically jumped out of my arms trying to reach for it, and she was so excited once I set her on it. She couldn't peddle, but she sure was kicking her feet hard. Little Boy wanted to show her how, but that was difficult since her legs weren't long enough to even touch the peddles. I wish I had had the camera out with me! Little Boy is non-stop action as well, and is about to wear me out. Mr. SiA has joined a new praise band and they have kept him busy playing guitar. He's really enjoying getting to play for the first time in a long time. I may have dust off my old groupie skills. Although, I learned the hard way (back in Mr. SiA's band's day) to clarify that I mean the nice-girl kind of groupie (i.e. a devoted fan), not the sleazy kind of groupie (i.e. sleeps with all the band members). Just so we're all clear:)

Wrong is wrong

2009-06-02T14:40:00.002-04:00

So, Baby Girl started crawling on Sunday. She still does a lot of scooting and rolling and such, but she now knows that she can get where she wants to go. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. :) She's so proud of herself, though. It's adorable.

In other news, the summer temps are making our 80lb golden retriever mix shed like there's no tomorrow and it's making me crazy. It's not just the dog fur tumbleweeds, it's the bugs, and dead leaves, and other detritus that she brings in with her that are making me crazy.

These two things may seem unrelated, but they lead me to a question. On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being use of a bad pun and 10 being nuking a poor third world country - it's important to keep perspective), how wrong would it really be to cover her onesie with swiffer duster pads before I put her on the floor for a day? Does it change if it's double-sided tape?

Don't judge me. You know I'm not the first to think it.

My sweet babies

2009-05-20T16:13:00.003-04:00

Parenting advice

2009-05-17T14:13:00.005-04:00

This past week John Rosemond came to do a mini parenting seminar at our church. I had never heard of him before the planning began, which apparently makes me a parent from another planet because most of the other mommies I knew were pretty impressed. I went in with a fair amount of skepticism, though I have to admit, I enjoyed the presentation. Mr. Rosemond is a man from the Southern United States of my parents' generation, and just listening to him speak reminded me of my dad and my grandfather. He was charming, funny, and claimed to want to empower us mommies to be less anxious and more in control of our children and to reclaim a portion of our identities. Who doesn't want that? I have found some of his general ideas helpful and have already implemented some new strategies with Little Boy, and many have been effective. He's done much better at following my lead on eating what we eat at dinner. It does not seem to have helped much in the potty training department, so far, but the jury is still out.

I have to admit, I bought his book, Parenting by the Book, which I have been reading. I am finding some of it useful, although I also find some of my skepticism to be pretty well founded as well. He certainly talks a lot of trash about psychologists (though he is one) and for all the claims he makes about unfounded theories, he doesn't provide nearly as much to back up his own counter-claims as I would like. To my mind, there should be a lot more footnotes if I'm to believe all the Freud-was-a-deluded-narcissist-who-made-crap-up this and psychological-theories-are-disproved-by-current-research that. I'm sceptical about psychological sciences as well, but he might support all his trash-talk with some more bibliographical references, is all I'm sayin'. If you're going to say, "Studies prove XYZ..." then site your sources.

Secondly, he seems to be inordinately enamored of the 1950s. I'm sure it was in fact a lovely, simple time with fewer concerns for many parents...provided you weren't a minority, or abused by your spouse, or inspired to a calling other than motherhood, or on McCarthy's blacklist, or terrified of being nuked into oblivion by the Reds. I just think he could make his point without the constant 60s-bashing. It makes some of his points seem irrelevant to those of us not even born in the 1960s. I must say, I am pleased that so far that it has been less anti-woman than I had feared. In fact, I found much in his lecture that encouraged me as a woman and a mother. The book seems a little weaker in that regard, though.

More importantly, his repeated conflating of the concepts of "traditional" and "Biblical" concerns me. Just because something has become common practice in a Western, Judeo-Christian culture does not make it inherently Biblical, even if you do put a random verse from Proverbs at the head of every chapter. I fully believe that Mr. Rosemond is sincere in his faith and in his desire to give parents a Biblical perspective on raising their children. However, I think he comes a little too close to saying that he believes in God, and he believes in his approach to parenting, therefore his approach to parenting is Godly. Especially when he is literally claiming that there is only ONE correct approach to parenting - his.

In all fairness, I'm still in the early chapters of the book. I have found that with many parenting books, it's almost worth skipping the first few chapters, which tend to be devoted to telling the reader where the author's ideas came from and why everyone else's ideas are wrong. This is usually long, tedious and self-congratulatory to a nauseating degree. I'm trying to reserve judgment until I get into the more practical chapters. I do agree with his idea that I want my parenting to be less achievement-focused and more about the character I want to help develop in Little Boy and Baby Girl - I want them to be brave, compassionate, selfless, confident, hard-working and open-minded. If this book can give me some strategies for doing that, then I will consider it time well spent.

PT

2009-05-06T16:13:00.002-04:00

Hello, all. I'm afraid this is going to be a short post. We are thick and fast in the middle of potty training. I'll let you know in a few days if we've all survived. I'm kidding...sort of.

Theology

2009-05-03T08:03:00.004-04:00

I think I must have gotten off track somewhere along the way in Little Boy's religious education here. We've started with some basic concepts about God, mostly in terms of His creative role. God made Little Boy. God made the trees and animals. Little Boy will ask why rabbits hop or why the trees are green. Sometimes I start with some practical ideas, (that's how they walk or because that helps them absorb the sunshine), but when the Why? keeps coming, I often deffer to the ultimate authority - because God made them that way. Not trying to be glib, just trying to make room in Little Boy's world for God in a way that he can understand right now. Pretty much any time he asks why something is the way it is, and I don't know the answer, he now says, "Because God made it that way." But I seem to have made some sort of critical error...

Yesterday Little Boy brought his big stuffed monkey when he came in to wake me up. He held the monkey over me with its arms above its head and told me, "This is God."

Oh, dear.

Gravity

2009-04-27T13:47:00.007-04:00

Little Boy has hit that infamous developmental milestone of toddlers everywhere - asking "Why?" about EVERYTHING. It's not an exaggeration or a punchline, it really happens. And now I have to thank my baby brother for help in that department. He's an engineering major, and at some point when we were at my parents' house last month, he taught Little Boy about gravity. I was not in the room to hear into what toddler-friendly terms he put his explanation, but it is now the magic answer. When we get on a long string of "Why?" questions, about 50% of the time we reach a question to which I can reply, "Because of gravity." At which point Little Boy mercifully says, "Oh." and goes back to what he was doing. It's fantastic! I owe my brother a case of beer or a new car or some other fabulous prize for teaching Little Boy whatever it was he taught him about gravity. I'll have to ask him someday, so that I can write a book entitled "How to get your Toddler to stop asking Why" and make a gazillion dollars.

We spent this weekend with my in-laws in their RV at a car show for Little Boy's third birthday. It was actually pretty fun and both kids slept remarkably well in the bus. Little Boy about died of happiness spending the whole weekend playing outside with his Daddy and Papa and looking at cool cars. He roasted his first marshmallows over a camp fire and everything. Actually, it was funny - he decided that he didn't like to EAT the marshmallows, just to roast them. Turns out me and Papa are the only ones who actually like them, so between us we ate half a bag because Little Boy liked cooking them so much. I may never eat marshmallows again.

I can't believe my baby boy is now three years old! I was remembering where I was three years ago at different points all through the day. Now he walks and talks and works small equipment and helps Daddy with all his household projects. We're painting his room and putting up bunkbeds now that he's a big boy, and he is insisting on helping every step of the way. His uncles got him a toy tool bench for his birthday, and he brings the tools up to his room to "help."

Little Boy hard at work

2009-04-23T11:25:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago Mr. SiA had some gravel delivered to extend our driveway, and Little Boy was very eager to help Daddy spread it out. Helping Daddy is one of his favorite things to do lately, along with making up songs. Here is a video that illustrates these two ideas together. I apologize for how shaky the picture is - that's caused by me giggling. Especially every time he pelts Mr. SiA with gravel in his enthusiasm to help.

Baby Girl blowing Raspberries

2009-04-23T11:09:00.003-04:00

Just a fun little video of one of Baby Girl's favorite past times (the other is sucking her two middle fingers).

Laughter is the best...

2009-04-20T16:17:00.003-04:00

Little Boy reached a very significant milestone this week - he learned to tell his first joke. I'm not sure where he heard it or what triggered the realization of how jokes work, but he's very enthusiastic about the joke. The only problem - the joke, as in the one joke, over and over and over again. (Why did the banana go to the doctor? Because he wasn't PEELING well! Ah hahaha!) It's a fairly innocuous joke in and of itself. Although it does make me nervous that he has inherited his granddaddy's corny and pun-laden sense of humor, but it's really barely funny the first time. After the first afternoon of hearing it every few minutes, my husband decided that this problem could be remedied by teaching him another joke. The problem there is that the only joke that Mr. SiA could remember is the classic "Why did the chicken cross the road?" So now we get the same two corny jokes over and over and over again, because why tell one old joke when you can tell two, right? It is awfully fun to see Little Boy's little mischievous grin as he winds up for the punch line and his complete abandon as he laughs at his own delivery. I don't think he actually understands the joke, but he sure is proud of himself. He even got to tell it to our pediatrician at Baby Girl's six month check up today, which seemed very appropriate. Now I just have to find some more jokes to teach him. At least if it's taking him longer to tell them all in succession, maybe we won't hear them as often...Right?

I can't believe Baby Girl is six months already! She was a champ at her check up and growing well. 25.25 inches, 14 lbs 15.5 oz. No I don't know why they couldn't just call it 15 pounds, but apparently they couldn't. We have a new nurse, which is actually a nice development. The old nurse was kind of surly, especially when I called in with concerns. At least she's a quick hand with the shot-giving, though, since she was still the one to administer those today. Baby Girl was pretty upset, but thirty minutes later she was smiling and flirting again, so no harm done. I really am lucky that she's such a happy girl.

Things I have learned from watching too much PBS

2009-04-17T13:59:00.005-04:00

So, we've been struggling with the TV lately...I had let Little Boy watch quite a lot in those first few months after Baby Girl arrived, out of survival while she was nursing so often. We stuck exclusively to PBS cartoons, but still, it was a LOT of hours of TV. He got a little attached to having them on, and I have been struggling to wean him off of them. Lately, we've been using poker chips, one for each show - he gets two at the beginning of the day. He spends them immediately, which suits me fine because then I can get my shower. He can earn one or two more during the day if he cleans something up. Now that the weather is nicer and we can go outside, it is getting easier to distract him. However, I've had a cold this week, so we have relapsed a bit. And I have learned a few things about myself...

1. I used to think I was an animal lover, but I discovered that if I were the Man with the Yellow Hat, I would have called Animal Control on that obnoxious Sharky a long time ago and sent a stern letter to Betsy and whats-his-name's aunt about letting young kids loose in the city to walk him when they obviously can't control the damn critter. Also, George himself would probably have been donated to some zoo after a week in my apartment.

2. It is driving me crazy that I recognize the voice of the actor who does Clifford, and I cannot figure out who it is. I have been refusing to look it up, but my resolve is weakening.

3. I want to be cool like Sid the Science Kid's mom. I am on the right track, Mr. SiA is totally like his dad.

4. I can tell that I am a mother of a daughter now. I really think that Red's Super Reader outfit is far too skimpy and that her "Wonderific" dance is too suggestive. Also, she gets totally gypped...she only gets to use her powers, like, every fifth episode. It seems harsh to call it sexism, but come on. Pig gets called on every damn time. Super Why always saves the story. The pretty, pretty princess girl is always spelling things. But the athletic girl who refuses to conform to society's narrow definition of "femininity" gets totally sidelined in most episodes. Perhaps I am over-analyzing?

5. I have come to hate Caillou and his little squeaky voice. And does his mother really have to be so dumpy? I mean, she doesn't have to be Bree Van de Kamp or anything, but come on.

6. I love Kipper the Dog simply for the adorable British accents.

7. Sesame Street is great...My favorites are Big Bird, Grover and Zoe. But I have finally come to accept and own that at heart, I am not like them. No, really, deep down, though I hate to admit it, I am Bert. Pigeon-loving, oatmeal-eating, uptight, easily-irritated, nerdy, constantly in the shadow of gregarious Ernie, book-reading Bert. Who totally, by the way, should have sent Ernie off to camp, or put him in time-out, or head-smacked him or something by now.

The Facts of Life

2009-03-24T08:03:00.004-04:00

So, this post isn't going where you think it's going...

Little Boy decided he wanted to try sitting on the potty for the first time in a while. So we got him all undressed and we were sitting there, waiting, me leaning on the sink, him on the potty.
"Stay with me, Mommy."
If you want me to, I will.
"I like it when you stay with me."
Okay.
"I like it when Daddy stays with me too."
I know, Buddy. He likes to stay with you, but today he had to go to work.
"Why?"
To make money.
"Why? To buy me toys?" (That's Daddy's usual glib answer.)
Well, yes, Buddy. (Not feeling that I wanted to encourage self-focused materialism) But you know, everything costs money.
"Everything? Why?"
Yes, the house and the electricity and the water and the TV and the cars and the groceries...they all cost money. And Daddy goes to work and works hard to take care of us so that we can have all of those things.
"Why?"
Because all of those things cost money and the only way to get money is to work. So, to get the things we need, Daddy has to go to work.

A long pause while he considers this. (I was prepared to go on about how everyone in the family has responsiblities, how right now I stay at home and take care of Little Boy and Baby Girl, and it's his job to help me with some chores, but the look on his face stopped me.) He looks up at me in complete seriousness and says quietly,
"That's terrible."

Yes, Buddy. Yes, it is. I felt a little harsh, opening his little eyes to this life lesson at such a young age, especially when he was sitting there half naked.

30

2009-03-10T08:58:00.003-04:00

So, I turned 30 this week and, unlike last year, I'm actually kind of excited about it. I feel like it's a license to finally, finally leave my nervous, awkward 14-year-old self behind and take my place among the world of adults. No more assuming that I have to defer to another "grown-up's" authority or advice or expertise just because they're older. I don't know why having kids didn't confer this sense of adult empowerment, but it didn't.
I had been searching for something to do to mark the occasion - something bold to lay claim to my new-found sense of self - but I have been stumped. Please don't suggest jumping out of an airplane, because I'm just not going to do that. I don't have the money, for one. For another thing, it feels irresponsible to do something that could actually kill me, what with the little children at home for whom I am responsible. And finally, I HATE the feeling of falling. Also, I'd do it, and it would last for what, 30 minutes? And then be over? I kind of want something that will have a more lasting impact.
Mr. SiA did take me out for a very nice dinner at a fun French restaurant where I got to get all dressed up in adult clothes. We had wine and coffee and dessert and ate way too much. It was a good birthday, and I was actually very happy about it. I really want to set a good example for my kids, but especially Baby Girl, to rejoice and find value in themselves in all the stages of their lives, regardless of how old they are or how they look or how much money they have.
I figure I have this whole year to mark turning 30, so if you have any interesting ideas or stories of what you did to mark a big milestone, let me know.

Let it snow...

2009-03-03T17:11:00.004-05:00

Along with everyone east of the Mississippi, we have had snow on the ground the last few days. Real snow too, not just the wimpy half-inch that makes my Northern in-laws chuckle but brings life as we know it to a screeching halt. We got about five inches. Impressive, huh? It's actually really pretty and it was fun to have it last through the night. Little Boy loved it. Wanted to go out and stay out, even though we didn't really have snow appropriate gear for him. Mr. SiA even got a snow day, which NEVER happens, so he and Little Boy got some good boy-bonding time in the cold. And now Little Boy has a very avid taste for Hot Cocoa (the only thing that would induce him to come inside.)

Can't we just skip three?

2009-02-27T13:32:00.004-05:00

I love Little Boy, and I try to be an encouraging and empowering parent, but can I just say that I am hating this stage he's going through? He'll be three in April, and OH. MY. GOD. He is driving me crazy. And it's not like he seems to be overly strong-willed or defiant or somehow extreme when viewed in the context of all children, but he's just about to make me rip my hair out. Just the constant need to make noise of any kind; doing anything I tell him not to do, just because I told him not to; refusing to eat anything but macaroni-and-cheese and chicken nuggets; whining, tantrums and melt-downs over nothing; constant fights over whether he can watch TV or have juice; lots of "I want..." without many "pleases;" questioning everything. I try not to take it personally, but it's like being followed around by a little critic, "What's that? Why did you do that? Why did we stop? Did you know you dropped that? What's that for? Are you going to clean that up?"
I know he's just at a stage of curiosity about how the world works and trying to figure out his place and his limits, and a lot of days I can get through without letting it bother me. Days when I calmly say, "Say please," or "No, you've watched enough cartoons today," or "If you're going to yell and scream, you can sit in the Time Out chair by yourself." But there are days when I just want him to STOP TALKING! I put him to bed just thinking (not saying), "Would you please just SHUT UP!"
We went to the grocery store today...it was a disaster. We hadn't been in more than two weeks, which meant that we needed everything. It took more than two hours, and Little Boy just had me about at my whits end. I don't know how we made it out of the store. Now, before anyone calls Social Services, I just want to say that I do not call him names and I would never raise a hand to him, even when I'm angry. But, sometimes I just need a little quiet. Won't be today though. He's finally down for his nap, and now Baby Girl is refusing to settle in for hers. Okay, deep breath. Tomorrow is another day. (It's just a phase, it's just a phase, it's just a phase, it's just a phase, it's just a...)

At Home With Oscar

2009-02-24T14:00:00.006-05:00

Well, we got home last night from a visit to my mom's. It was so wonderful to see all my family and get some time to relax and be taken care of a little bit. It was a little stressful flying back with both kids by myself yesterday, but we got a temporary boarding pass for my mom which allowed her to go all the way to the gate with me. Going through security was really the toughest part. Little Boy was a champ the whole way, and even Baby Girl didn't cause too much trouble. She did nurse most of the hour-long flight, but that's really not too bad.

I also have to bring up the Oscars. I had so much fun watching Sunday night, even though the only nominated film I saw last year was WALL-E. (Which was very good, by the way.) This has to have been the best telecast I have ever seen. The stage design was beautiful and I loved the order in which they gave the awards...putting them in the order in which you make a movie (the writing awards, then the design awards, then the editing awards, etc.) made so much sense and actually caused me to care (a little) about those Oscars. I don't know why no one has thought to do them that way before. I thought Hugh Jackman did a superb job - funny and charming, but without taking up too much time trying to prove that he's funny because that's what he does for a living (Hello, John Stewart, Ellen, et. al. - I'm talking to you!). I didn't see a single person who didn't look stunning - everyone seemed to pick up on a silver-screen glamor that made the whole night shine. Lots of soft metallic gowns with the occasional deep blue or pink. I loved Anne Hathaway's dress on the red carpet, Marissa Tomei, Reese Witherspoon, Queen Latifa, Meryl Streep...everyone just shone. The entire night was simply classy. The best part has to have been the format that they used to award the acting trophies...having a previous winner speeak directly to the nominees about their roles and skills made it so intimate and personal and did more than just highlight the winner. You could just see on Anne Hathaway's face: "Who cares if they give me the Oscar, Shirley McClaine just told me I'm a great actress!!" My favorite winners have to be Kate Winslet and (I'm sorry) the man who won for the music in Slumdog Millionaire. Usually I'm not big on political pontificating during the Oscars, but I thought it was so powerful when he said (paraphrasing) "I've had chances in my life to choose hate or love. I've chosen love, and look where I am." In that moment, it managed to convey such an authentic proof of the power of love. Perhaps it carried more weight because he wasn't Sean Penn. Anyway, I love watching the Oscars, but I didn't have very high hopes since I didn't know much about the films, but it turned out to be one of the best I've ever watched.

Literary Surprises

2009-02-13T13:23:00.002-05:00

Okay, I consider myself to be a relatively well-read, well-educated person. However, I didn't know much about the Sherlock Holmes stories when I picked them up last week. I was looking for something that would keep me occupied for a while, but can be read in nice small chunks since my reading time is a little unpredictable. Also, my local book store was running a 'buy two, get the third free sale" on their selection of classics, so I picked up both volumes of Sir Connan Doyle's famous detective...who turns out to be a totally pompous ass. Apparently that was what made a hero in the nineteenth century. Turns out House isn't as original a character as everyone says. Also, did anyone else know that old Sherlock's favorite method of dealing with the boredom between cases was to shoot up cocaine? Or, if that wasn't available, morphine. Seriously? How did I not know this? Maybe he wasn't such an ass, maybe it was just the drugs talking.

"'I suppose that its influence is physically a bad one. I find it, however, so transcendently stimulating and clarifying to the mind that its secondary action is a matter of small moment.'" (Doyle, Sir Arthur Connan, The Complete Sherlock Holmes Volume I, The Sign of Four, Barnes and Noble Classics, p. 99)

Oh, and say no to drugs, kids.

I'm really enjoying Housekeeping. I first read Robinson's Gilead when I was pregnant with Gray, and I simply loved the lovely, measured poetry of her writing, the depth of the main character's wandering voice when considering aging, purpose, faith, love, and suffering. It's slow and simple, uneventful but achingly beautiful. It made me want to pay more attention to every little moment. I sent a copy to my dad as a gift when I finished it. It has become one of my favorite books. I love the act of reading it, savoring it slowly like lingering over each bite of a favorite food. I'm only a few chapters into Housekeeping, and obviously my expectations are high. I'm trying to keep an open mind. So far, I like it.

Long time, no see

2009-02-12T14:59:00.004-05:00

Hi all. Just wanted to let the old Internet know that I am not dead. Baby Girl is growing fast and doing well. She's got a little touch of reflux, but is sleeping through the night since Christmas, which is the best gift I've ever received. Little Boy is very almost-three, but doing well as a big brother. My mother is coming this weekend, but she's letting us go away overnight to a hotel (woo-hoo) for Valentine's Day. We have not moved. I quit my job, so I am officially a full-time stay-at-home type, unless Mr. SiA gets fired, which is not entirely outside the realm of possibilities at this point. He does work for state government, after all. I have cut off all of my hair - again. It is very, very short. I can have it fixed in 2 minutes and I never have to leave the house with wet hair, so I love it. We are starting to move out of the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants newborn stage and establishing a bit of a routine, so hopefully this posting business will happen more often. And we are looking at preschools for next fall - which I find ridiculous. Also ridiculous is my over use of hyphenated words in this paragraph. And that's the news.

Welcome Baby Girl

2008-10-12T13:10:00.002-04:00

Hi all! Just a quick update while she's napping. Baby Girl arrived on Wednesday at 5:17 pm after 9 hours of induced labor. Although, they were much more gradual with the Pitocin and much more controlled with the epidural, so I think it was actually a much less traumatic labor than with Little Boy, and has been a much easier recovery. She weighed 5 lbs, 12 oz and is 18 inches long - she's so tiny! And beautiful, and we're thrilled to have her home. Little Boy is doing pretty well with the transition to Big Brotherhood so far. More at some future point.