In Vino Veritas

Yesterday I put on my magic pants (aka compression tights) for the first time. Which led to a second 'first' for me; going commando. The only time I don't regularly wear underwear is to bed. I know that the majority of people don't wear them when they run, but I was not sad to be a minority in this matter. Why the sudden change of heart? Because when you stuff sausage into casing, there's often not room for foundation pieces.

After yesterday's run, I could be convinced that it's a better way to go. I'm just glad that I take care of that 'situation' or it may not have been as comfortable.

On the running note, I've officially registered for my first full marathon. It's not the same one I talked about before, but it will be a great fit because Jared will be there to cheer my on, and my best friend is running with me. I think my sister-in-law who ran with the two of us at the Fine Wine half-marathon in July is going to run as well. My friend and I are marathon virgins, while my sister-in-law has birthed this baby before, so it will be interesting to see how our experiences differ. June 4th, 2011 in Newport, Oregon. I'm equally excited and nauseated, but I'm willing to apply the same suspended disbelief that I did while training for the marathon and only focus on the mileage for the week.

Last night J and I went to a fun holiday party. A good time was had by all and the vino was flowing freely. A little too freely, actually. It was my day off in the game, so I relished my glass five glasses of cabernet and a cab/syrah/merlot blend and had a great time meeting some of the people with whom Jared spends those long days and nights.

I was feeling nice and toasty, but not bad, as we paid and thanked the sitter, went through the nightly routine and the enjoyed the rest of all that date night entails. (see C.D. I do talk about sex sometimes!) Okay Dad, you may want to stop reading now.

Anywho, the fear of all parents became a reality for us as I heard the pitter patter of little feet, about a fraction of a second later than I normally do and voila; coitus interruptus. Awesome. As I lay mortified in the bed, J ushered a sleepy and seemingly unaware H back to bed. Within about 30 seconds both kids were awake and crying for their Mama.

Rocking them both in the La-Z-Boy, I was starting to drift off when I felt that unforgettable hot and flushed feeling. I called out for J trying not to wake the sixty plus pounds of dead weight that was pressing on my guts and exaccerbating the urge to purge. J to the rescue and kiddos were extracted from my grasp just in time for me to rush to the bathroom and tango with the gods of drinking. I'm so glad I left the lights off because I can only imagine I would forget what I'd drunk and think I had stomach cancer.

Teeth brushed, clean shirt slogged over my head (does anyone successfully avoid splash-back?), water swish-swish-swished and then a glass downed and I welcomed the surrender to my bed. Thanks to a caring spouse who's been there, done that a cold cloth was pressed to my forehead and I was out like a light, but only after I murmured 'Seriously, how old am I? Nineteen?!'

This morning brought two pre-schoolers who don't really care to know about what you did while they were sleeping, and raring to go with zero sensitivity to noise, action or speed of movement.  The show must go on so rally I did with a bowl of oatmeal fortified with greek yogurt, peanut butter and some ibuprofen. Opening the Advent Cubicle for the day's activity and found the rest of my cure, watching my kids decorate gingerbread cookies (well, mainly eat candy and frosting.)

Somewhere In Middle America

I'm writing this post from Iowa, which means that we are checked out from our apartment, the Skybox has been loaded back on the car and packed to the gills. As always, my spatially-challenged self mis-judged the amount of room we'd have in order to include my little sister in the trip.

After about twenty hours of riding in the back seat with my kids in stereo on either side of her, she decided that she would rather pay the extra money to fly home and see her own children, rather than have mine being loud and boisterous in her ears. Overall, they've done great in the car, but by the time we were about ten miles out of Iowa City H was in tears asking if we were ever going to get there?! He said he'd 'rather go to Tyler's house' because it was closer...little did he know we were over 20 hours from Tyler's house.

We ordered the last of our appliances last night, and they're scheduled to be delivered the same day we get there (along with our walk-through and cable/internet installation...I sure hope we're not running late!)

Leaving was a lot harder than I expected. Three years is a long time to put down roots, make connections and create a life for yourself and your family. J didn't struggle as much as I because while he worked in Worcester, I lived there. My friends are all staying, and will be meeting for coffee club, beach playdates and mom's night outs, minus one Sally HP. J is within a cohort of people that are all moving to the next step.

And as we pulled out of town, tears pricking my eyelids, and feelings of gratitude washing over me for all the friends and support I'd had during my time of being a functionally single mother (thanks, M for coining that term) J pronounced; 'You're welcome, Worcester!'

Next stop, Fargo!

Like a Chicken With Its Head Cut Off!

For the last two weeks, I feel like I haven't had time to sit and breathe, let alone write a post.

Highlights include my precious Baby Charlie making the shift to the Terrific Two's, a fantastic day out with the girls to Newburyport, which included a stop at the Todd Farms Flea Market, walking through the great antique shops like Flukes, and ending with lunch at Grogs followed by dessert and coffee at a cute bakery.

H is winding down his time at school as we start to pack up our belongings in preparation of the big move at the end of the month.

Our house is completed including sod and (I think) all the paperwork for the loan is in, now we just have to play the waiting game until closing on the 30th. One of my girlfriends emailed me offering to take the kids for the morning, and another friend offered to come occupy H in the afternoon while Charlie napped, so J and I had the WHOLE day to pack. No matter how much I hate packing, I'm so glad that J suggested we start early because we've already gotten rid of a massive amount of stuff that would have just gotten shoved into boxes had we waited until the end to start.

It's the busy times in your life that you realize how great your friends are. Over the last three years, I've been blessed with an amazing support network both near and far.

This weekend was a bit of a whirlwind, beginning with us dropping the kids off with family in Connecticut, because they'd generously given their time to watch them overnight so we could attend J's graduation ceremony for the residency program and not have to worry about a sitter.

I couldn't quite hang with the big dogs for the entire after party so I took my tired booty home so that I could awake bright and early for my last training run before the big day! While J picked the kids up, I sort of stood in the loft and stared at the boxes I could be packing should I have the energy or motivation. Finding neither I headed back downstairs to watch another episode of what has become my current obsession; Friday Night Lights. Oh, how glad I was to find that the actor who plays Tim Riggins is only 2 years younger than I in real life because I was starting to feel downright pervy.

Dinner with the team over, I quickly escorted the kids home, gave them the most abbreviated wipe down possible and sent them to bed. I packed my bag, a bag for them that J could bring with when he and the kids came to cheer me on, and got my outfit laid out. By 9pm, I had reviewed the course map one last time before driving peacefully, and had one of the best nights of sleep I've had in a very long time.

5am came rather quickly, but I was wide awake, ready to face the biggest challenge of my life to date. I think I can say it was almost as challenging as childbirth because they don't give you an epidural during a half-marathon if the pain is too much, or you need to get some rest.

I dressed, rolled, ate two pieces of toast, drank a packet of emergen-c and it was off to the Y I went to stretch with my team-mates and chat away the nervous energy. I was so much less nervous than I anticipated being, and even less nervous than those first Saturday long runs. I realized as I was standing there that it was because I felt really and truly prepared.

The race was great, filled with so much encouragement by the spectators, water station volunteers and the police officers that were controlling the mayhem that is Kelly Square. As I crossed over mile 8 and was feeling good, I knew I'd be okay. However, whoever said that the last mile is the easiest, I'd like you to identify yourself so that I can smack you in the face. You are a horrible liar! I cannot even describe the joy I felt as I saw that huge FINISH banner looming ahead and I sprinted in.

Waiting at the end were H, Charlie and J. As I crossed the timing pads, H looked at me with his sweet smile and said 'Congratulations, Mom!' I swooped him up, and the emotion of the moment hit me. Swollen fingers, tired legs, I started to cry. Which is really difficult when you've not yet caught your breath so I pulled it together, and put on a smile.

And that's the last two weeks, in a nutshell.

DIY Popcicles

Yesterday, while we were riding in the car, H had brought with him the latest Land Of Nod catalogue for his perusal. He's been having a great time looking at all the kids' magazines to make his ever-growing birthday wish list, and to pick out all the things we'll have in our new house. After several reinforcements of 'you aren't going to get everything you ask for', I've decided to just let his imagination run wild.

Today, he added 'popcicle machine' to his list. Once I saw what he was talking about; the plastic molds for popcicles, I told him we could actually get those that day. As an alternative to traditional dessert, I've been giving the kids frozen Horizon Organics Yogurt Tubers or Del Monte Fruit Chiller tubes, and they love them. I realized that this would give me a great way to use the frozen strawberries that I have in abundance since I accidentally ordered 6 cartons of strawberries instead of 2 the last time we had Roche Bros. deliver.

A quick trip to Target and we had a set of four popcicle molds, which H quickly identified as being enough for our family, 'but not enough for Granny and Papa', so we may be getting more if this is successful.

I found a recipe that calls only for three ingredients and we got out the blender. Within ten minutes we had four fruit pops in the freezer, pictures uploaded and blog post complete. We even had extra so that the kids got a smoothie with their dinner.

Frozen Fruit Bars (makes 4):

1/2-3/4 c. strawberries

3/4 c. skim-1% milk

Sugar (to taste...I used almost a tablespoon, but you don't have to use any at all)

Pour into molds and freeze overnight; enjoy!

It's the Climb

I know that I have been quite remiss in my posting, but the last month brought with it so many deadlines, details and deeds to be done. Family and friends came out for a visit, so I let the tour-guiding and hostessing commence.

I've been run, run, running except now it's not just to the grocery store. Over the last 3 months, I've logged almost 170 miles, according to my training tracker on dailymile.com and I'm starting to feel the aches in my joints as they protest such a large woman punishing her body like that. But in return, my body has been shedding weight and I'm now just shy of the 30 pound mark.

Despite that loss, when I look in the mirror I still feel frustrated because I have so much further to go, but then I take a step back at moments like Wednesday evening when I sprinted up the block to finish a 7.28 mile run, of which I didn't walk a step! In an hour and thirty-two minutes (less than the time it takes to loaf on the couch and watch a movie) I burned almost an entire day's worth of calories, and to date, I've lost over 10% of my former body weight. Now, it's time to focus on the next ten.

While I was feeling flustered, I also paused and thought how I would feel if one of my friends had told me they'd lost 30 pounds in three months. That's a huge amount of weight and I'm so much more comfortable in my skin because of it. But, more than the weight, I feel so much more fit. I may have the aches and pains that temporarily cause me to feel like an octogenarian, but overall, I'm in the best shape I've been in in a long time...maybe even ever.

I had the realization hit me of just how important this team, and the goal I have of completing the half-marathon on June 13th is to me. With my obsession with Sex and the City firmly established, I should not have to explain the underlying sacrifice in this decision; my girlfriends are going into New York City this weekend, but I declined joining them because I have a long training run that I know I won't complete on my own at another time. Yes, my friends, that is dedication.

I've had movers and cleaners come out to give quotes and faxed back contracts, I've purchased appliances that I picked out online, while talking to the Sears employee in Walla Walla, had delivered to the house which I had not yet seen the finished interior of, and a third party met them there and installed them for me. I had a minor moment when I thought the wrong tile was used on the fireplace surround, but additional pictures taken by the realtor and emailed to me, showed me that lighting was everything. That also gave me the chance to see my gleaming new appliances properly installed and just waiting for that Thanksgiving dinner or birthday cake. Bottom line; the assessment is done, the certificate of occupancy has been issued and all that remains is some sod being laid down and the closing of the deal

I have so much to cram into the next month before we leave; overwhelming doesn't quite hit it. In an effort to keep it simple, the boys' joint birthday party (H isn't technically 5 until August, but I want him to have a party with his friends) will be a breakfast in the park, with a tower o' glazed donuts serving as the cake. I'm getting rid of everything that I don't see even remotely using in the new house, while trying to remain realistic about the things that we don't really need to replace right away. All those towels and kitsch add up so quickly!

And in the mix of it all, I have these two beautiful boys who I need to prepare for the huge life-changing event of leaving all that they know, and making a new home across the country. It's such an odd feeling to be returning to my 'home' while at the same time taking my kids from theirs. I am so excited for the next phase in our life, but I'm also terrified to leave the one we're in.

And, that's the ten minutes I have free for today!

Charlie is his mother's child through and through. In the car, if he's crying and has shoes and socks on, I can almost guarantee you that the crying will cease as soon as socks and shoes are removed. He loves to let his 'piggies' breathe!

Knowing this about him, I didn't think twice about him wanting to take him shoes off at the playground. Even though walking barefoot on wood chips isn't exactly my idea of fun, I indulged him. That is, until I realized that the reason he keeps wanting to take off this pair (and several others that fit H well after his second birthday) is that they are too small. Not jam-your-feet-in small, but just small enough to be uncomfortable. Apparently they've been that way for about a month because Alex commented that she'd told J about it when she watched the kids for us during my trek to the double Walla to pick out my beloved bamboo floors. Thanks for passing on the message, J.

I felt like mother of the year, so busy to just get out the door that I didn't realize that he was hobbling along in too-small shoes.

I had ordered the kids' crocs for the season (with a coupon for $10 off each pair!) but was then sorely disappointed that Charlie appears to be right between sizes. I remembered that my friend had given me a pair of croc-like Airwalks at Charlie's shower, and I was actually able to remember where I'd put them! Perfect fit.

'Luckily', because we are heathens and don't really attend church, the boys really only need about 2 pairs of shoes for each season; boots and sneakers for winter, sandals and sneakers for summer and spring. I was about to break down and head to Stride Rite for his monstrously wide feet when, today, I got my email from Robeez, which announced they now have an eco-friendly line. Starting at 21.99, which means they're not even more expensive than their regular line! I love the Surfin' Turtle shoe for walkers.

Oh darn, you know how I hate shoe shopping!

Sugar High, Sugar Low

Just before the start of Easter weekend we got word that our mortgage and house closing would be going forward as planned. Now, it's just the underlying sense of unease that all new home-owners tell me is normal; the I-can't-believe-it-until-the-keys-are-in-my-hands feeling. I'll take that over what I felt all last week any day!

On Saturday, I went with my training group for our 5 mile run, which was mapped at 5.25 miles. When I got done I was tired, but I didn't feel like I needed to sit down or that I couldn't go another step. I picked my kids up from childwatch, wrestled with Charlie in the back seat while I changed the world's poopiest diaper and then it was off to the Starbucks drive-thru for my weekly post-run reward. Honestly, the fact that the group runs are stationed near the only drive-thru Starbucks in Central Mass is incredible motivation each week. Before we arrived, H asked if he could have a donut. I told him I'd love to get one for he and Charlie to share. 'But I want one to myself!' Fine. They sell really cute little mini-frosted donuts at Starbucks now, so I told him he could have one of those.

His response? 'Is there more sugar in a big donut, or a little one?' Well, um, the big one most likely. 'Then I want a big one.' Yeah, it's either the little one or nothing. 'Okay, the little one.' That's what I thought.

Before my run, I'd done my weekly weigh-in and realized that since I started running about a month and a half ago, I've lost sixteen pounds. While I haven't been on a diet, per se, my food choices have seemed to change on their own. I don't necessarily want to eat a burger for lunch if I know I'm going to run later in the day, or if I've already run, I remember how hard I had to work to burn the calories I did, so the trade-off no longer looks quite so appealing. Instead of the usual weekend mocha that I may have rewarded myself with, just getting a nice nonfat latte felt pretty good.

Not so for H. Lately, the kid is obsessed with sugar! Easter, Christmas, Valentine's Day and every other sugar-fueled holiday has not helped to end his love affair with saccharine goodness, so this year I asked that the Easter bunny only bring as much candy as the kids could eat in one sitting...I'm done storing the leftovers until time memorial so that they could have candy each night until they were twenty, and because I don't want to have candy in the house all the time.

After they finished their breakfast of peeps and chocolate, we got ready and headed over to a friend's house for a pot-luck Easter brunch. It was so much more enjoyable than sitting in a restaurant, paying an exorbitant amount of money for the tiny bit of food they'd eat before they were 'done' and made you eat with the goal in mind of making a quick exodus.

This time, the kids played in the basement, the adults enjoyed the offerings, and then we all went out for an egg hunt. It's quite possibly the first Easter in NewEngland in the last decade that has been this lovely, but it was seventy-five degrees! We sat in the sun while the kids played and our food settled, then headed back in for a quick dessert. My friend had made the most fun little deserts by dipping a balloon in chocolate, and then popping the balloon to make it look like half an egg. Then you fill it with chocolate mousse and, instead of cherry, each confection was topped with a peep.

By the time we got home, the kids were fast asleep. I had time to submit both posts to Green MomCentral before we felt obliged to wake them, and then it was time for the circus of the night-time routine to begin. We switched Charlie to a 'big boy' bed this weekend (aka the crib rail came down) and the first night went ridiculously well. Last night when I put him to bed, he started messing around, so I reminded him that he needed to lay down or he'd have to be in a baby crib again. He settled immediately and went to sleep...or so we thought.

After about an hour, H went in to join him in slumber only to find that he was waiting for big brother to get the party started. Guess who had to be the party pooper? Of course. So, H in our bed, and Charlie in the pack-n-play, both kids were asleep within about five minutes. But only after J doled out the worst punishment ever...'No Candy For a WEEK!' And just like that, the party was over.

*Photo credits go to Michele of mQn photography. If you're looking for great candid shots of your family, you won't find anyone better, or at a more reasonable price!

Some Assembly Required

Last night J and I were driving home from a nice dinner with friends, the kind where our children curled up in the hosts' bed while we chatted in front of the fire, when we heard from the backseat that muffled sound of liquidy loveliness that no parent wants to hear.

Yeah, for some reason, Charlie just barfed all over himself, then looked at us with a puzzled expression the rest of the ride home as I tried to reassure him through my own checked gag reflex that he would be alright. There didn't appear to be any real reason for the up-chuck, no fever or other sickness, it was just a one-time fluke. Try telling that to the uber-porous nylon straps of the car-seat.

When we got home, I completed the revolting task of disengaging him from the seat and thanked my lucky stars I'd packed a fluffy blanket in which I could swath him for the trip upstairs. Safely deposited in the bathtub, cleansed and rinsed, he chitty-chatted in the fresh, warm bath-water playing with his toys, bright-eyed as can be.

Meanwhile J was wrasslin' with the carseat in the kitchen, balancing it on the edge of the sink trying to use the spray nozzle to clean it out. He sure gave it the old college try and we made apologetic looks at one another as we performed the herculean feat of disassembling the seat without getting debris all over the kitchen. Thank goodness for washable covers, that's all I'm saying. I sprayed Clorox Anywhere everywhere on the seat that wasn't already in the washing machine but alas, this morning there was still the pungent reminder on the straps. There must be a solution for this out there, but I've yet to find it.

Seat re-installed in the car, and the false hope in my head that the smell would dissipate, I sprayed the straps with a citrus disinfectant/deodorizer, and we were off to a Valentine party. At that point, I heard my dad's voice in my head telling us 'The only thing air freshener does is make it smell like you pooped in a pine forest.' Light a match, open a window, air it out. But in February in New England, what's a girl to do?

Later that day when it became clear that the stink was here to stay, I seized the opportunity to turn lemons into lemonade at Babies R Us, where they're currently running a promotion for you to turn in your old baby gear (strollers, carseats, basinets, etc) and you get 25% off the price of the replacement. I had been planning to get a new seat for Charlie in the next 3-4 months anyhow as he's almost at the weight limit of his front/rear-facing convertible (which was handed down from H), so it was all in good time.

I really like the Graco Nautlilus 3-in-1 that we bought for H, but he recently graduated to using it as a high-backed booster sans harness so I got the genius idea that I would re-install the harnesses, pass that seat to Charlie and just buy H the Graco TurboBooster; problem solved, money saved (about half the price of the 3-in-1), voila!

Oh, did I mention I didn't go to the store until after Charlie's nap ended and I'd delivered dinner to a friend, placing us in the parking lot post-purchase at 5:45pm? Or that turning in a car seat means you have to assemble and install the new ones before you can be on your merry way? Or that I realized mid-install that I forgot how I got the harness out a month ago, hence wasn't at all sure I could get it back in?

One would think a person would run several scenarios through their head and plan such a trip accordingly, giving thought to the ways in which you could combat some of the bumps in the road. Like, that maybe you should wear a jacket. Or that during the period of installation you'd have a rowdy toddler strapped in the cart next to the car in the dark, wind and cold, along with an unruly 4 and-a-half year-old (the and-a-half is crucial these days) bouncing in the interior space of the car. All while you force your cold fingers to manipulate and 'Click!' (yes, the directions really say "Insert the armrest into the base until you hear a Click indicating it's securely inserted; 'Click!'") the pieces of the car seat into their proper position without pinching your skin, losing your temper, yelling at your children or threatening to spank them in a public space. Because nothing makes you feel better, or more trailer-fabulous, about the behavior you model for your children than a good old-fashioned temper tantrum.

Take a breath, you are smart, you are strong, you will make this work. Just. Push. A little. Harder! Ahh, it finally 'clicked'. Well, after 30 minutes which isn't bad for two seat protectors and two car-seats...in the dark. Best of all, my big four and-a-half year-old is mighty proud of his new 'cozy' (thanks to 'GracoPedic' foam padding) seat; and that just makes it worth all the fuss.

*Image found at http://www.freepatentsonline.com/6796584.html

Home, Home on the Range

This week I made yet another cross-country flight with both kids; I feel a lot older and a little wiser. About two days before our trip, I realized that a big part of my dread was the prospect of holding ChuckRoast on my lap for the duration. A quick phone-call and courtesy call-back after my wait time at 800-IFLYSWA resulted in the purchase of an infant fare ticket, and a large dose of relief.

I somehow managed not to spend a single penny at the airport, but I did have to endure the annoyance of the baggage swab which was far more unpleasant than the full body pat-down. Something in my small soft-sided Coleman cooler, in which I'd packed a plethora of flight and kid-friendly foods still in their factory seal, was showing as being toxic per their swabs.

Well, that's not good.

So, in Chicago on our layover, after we ate the majority of the contents and I was able to condense down to my one backpack, I ditched the cooler. Not only was it extra baggage, something about it made them think I was a terrorist. With Horizon Organic milk boxes. And cereal bars. And string cheese.

Plane boarded and day of travel begun, I busted out the portable DVD player that Alex had gently, and multiple times, suggested I may want to borrow. I'd survived a number of cross-country flights without an extra piece of baggage, so I'd be fine on one more, right? Once again, my faithful friend was correct and the day before I left I called to ask if the offer was still on the table.

A viewing of The Wild between Providence and Chicago, and H was ready for leg #2, as mama played the game of Sally the Sherpa to get from one gate to the next with H's back-pack, my back-pack and a small bag of diapers slung across the handles of the stroller in which both kids were blissfully secured, a car seat over one arm and a smile on my face.

I did the dance down the aisle with a car seat held as high as I could, Charlie in the sling, and Henry trailing faithfully behind under penalty of death if he touched the controls that make the jetway separate from the plane; yet another hazard in having a child whose hero is Curious George...it would be less give-you-a-captain's-hat-and-let-you-sit-in-the-cockpit and more mommy-gets-arrested-for-suspicion-of-terrorist-activity. Especially in light of the cooler debacle.

I smiled wryly at one passenger as he was holding his head as far to the side as possible so as not the be concussed by the car seat and I quipped 'As if him crying won't be enough to make you hate me, I could give you a skull fracture as well!' Luckily he laughed.

Each time one of my snotty kids coughed or sniffled, I could see passengers giving me sideways glances...I should have put snouts on them.

I love flying Southwest, but wish they would have a direct flight. Alas, part of the lot of flying on the airline that has heart, is a lot of up and down. Being a master planner, I changed Charlie's diaper in my lap just prior to the last trash collection as we were getting ready to descend in Salt Lake, where we'd have to sit on the plane and wait for the connecting passengers to board.

Just as we were given the fasten seat belts warning due to turbulence, the most foul smell filled the air. Awesome. So glad you didn't do that before I changed your diaper. Not quite brave enough to delve into that with him on my lap, I had to wait...and wait....and wait until we landed.

Back in the air again for our one-hour romp to Boise, we were almost home-free. H had fallen asleep for almost three hours on the prior flight, dosing off during take-off while reading the brochure for the 737. Charlie had yet to sleep a wink.

After arriving safely we walked to my sister's car and I noticed a large box strapped to the top of her Explorer. What. Is. That?! Oh, just a tub surround for a friend...because Sherpas run in the family.

Kids fed and car gassed we were in the home stretch; a three-hour car ride to my parent's house in rural Eastern Oregon. As I took in the slush and the grey, the sage and the open space surrounded by mountains, it came to me again how much I love my home.

About half-way there, we realized there was a slight thumping noise from the top of the car and glanced to see if the other had heard it too. After a van passed us motioning to the top of the car, we decided to pull over and investigate. Sure enough, the slush and wind had ripped off the front corner of the box.

Small pieces that could fly out should the whole box become compromised were removed and the security of the tie-downs double-checked and we were back on the road.

As we pulled up to my parents' house, Charlie was still wide-eyed and promptly handed me separation papers announcing his intent to divorce his car-seat. It was only as I sat him down on the plush carpet and he stumbled his first few steps that I realized...he had not taken a single step since 4am EST...and it was 5 at my parents'. A full 16 hours in which he hadn't been out of a seated position, other than to bounce on my lap in the plane. Ahh...a shining example of motherhood am I. In my defense, we had just enough time in Chicago to eat, change a diaper, go potty and head to the gate as they were able to leave ahead of schedule.

Go ahead Char, you are now free to roam about the country.

Black-Eyed Peas

This afternoon, I laid down on the couch in the delusional gesture of taking a nap in the living room while J read a book, oblivious to the kids re-enacting the storming of Normandy. Why I didn't go into the bedroom? Aparrently, I didn't really want to sleep.

It all started out innocently enough; H in a time-out for repeatedly doing what he was asked not to, and Charlie meandering around the living room looking for something else to bash into so that he could be told 'No!', laugh at me, be told 'No!' again, comply, and then stand in the middle of the room and start bawling because he doesn't like being told 'No!'. The fabric of our lives.

I closed my eyes for a second and asked J that if, by miracle or stroke of luck, sleep should find it's way into my body, that I be awoken by four so that I could make dinner before escaping to the theatre with friends.

Not five seconds later I heard Charlie toddle over. He's been big on giving kisses lately, such a sweet, sweet boy is he, so I kept my face slack and in peaceful repose only to be rewarded with SMACK! Yep, shattering smack of the hard plastic crocodile xylophone (not a small toy, mind you) to my cheek bone and eye socket. Nothing feels better on a Sunday afternoon.

About five minutes later, I was treated to a crack along my temporal lobe with a sippy cup. Showing mama some lovin', eh? Parenting is most definitely its own reward.

But at least I didn't actually get a black eye...unlike my senior citizen mother who fell and hit her head a couple of weeks ago on the corner of a pressure cooker box and got a shiner. Or my dad, who two days later tripped over the wheel barrel that my mom moved 'out of the way' as he was hauling her faux wishing well (circa 1985) on a handtruck so that it would be in a more asthetically pleasing area of the lawn. In case you're wondering if he's alright, I can't be sure, I could barely make out the story through my mother's hysterical laughter in recounting the tale to me. And they wonder where I get it.

Speaking of gnarly bruises...Whip It (with Juno's Ellen Page) was a fun movie and had a great ensemble cast, including Drew Barrymore, Jimmy Fallon, Eve and Juliette Lewis. The coach, Lazer, is the 'other' Wilson brother, Andrew (who sounds eerily like Owen, which is how we figured he must be a Wilson even before the credits rolled). And, triple bonus, I finally found out the object of roller derby.

Shine On, Happy Family!

I've had the opportunity to try an awesome baby/toddler food line, HappyBaby, at a couple of venues, and was really excited to see that they are currently one of three finalists out of over 4,000 entries in the American Express/NBC Shine a Light contest to win $100,000 in grant money and marketing support. They were nominated for being a business that has shown dedication to customer service, innovation and a commitment to improving their local and global community.

When we were at Baby Loves Disco in Boston, they (along with Stonyfield Farms and some others) provided snacks and samples. Following my visit there, I'd offered to post about them because Charlie loved the food. In addition to great microwave-able meals like Mac and Cheese with veggies snuck in, they had puffs that were in the same size package as the Gerber puffs, but their container held about 40% more and had a LOT less sugar. Plus, from the couple I snuck, they're pretty tasty! They come in Banana, Apple and Greens. Julie at HappyFamily was happy to send me a couple of containers to try, as they're not yet widely available in our area. I wasn't able to try a lot of the other entrees because the stores right around me weren't carrying them yet.

One of the reasons I'm asking that people vote for HappyBaby in the Shine a Light is that the money and support will enable them to place their product in a lot more venues, letting babies across the nation in on the secret: baby food doesn't have to taste bland and nasty...it can be really good and good for you.

It only takes a moment to vote, and you have to register your information but I'm thinking that's because they don't want one person coming back to vote multiple times. Please take the time to support a company that is working hard to support and feed families in a positive and socially responsible way. You have until October 16th, but if you're anything like me...you'd be better to click over right now before you put it off until 'tomorrow' which will end up being October 17th before you know it!

Here's what they have to say for themselves:

HAPPYBABY organic baby foods launched on Mother’s Day 2006 with 5 products in 5 small NYC stores. The business is the brainchild of a social entrepreneur who wanted to make a difference using business, support sustainable agriculture, provide our children with the best start to instill eating habits for a healthy happy life, and simultaneously provid basic nutritional needs for less fortunate children simply trying to survive. Today, the innovative business has 26 products, always organic, formulated with leading pediatricians and nutritionists for optimal nutrition using the best ingredients nature offers, and can be found in over 5,000 stores nationwide with a loyal following.

The company’s ability to innovate is responsible for its great success. They care. HAPPYBABY pioneered a new movement in baby food with a line of sustainable organic home-style meals as an alternative to the processed jarred foods that had not been improved since the 1930’s. They were the first organic baby food to incorporate DHA, the essential fatty acid needed for brain development and used a sustainable vegetarian source. HAPPYBELLIES cereal was the first baby food to use probiotics which defend against the development of food allergies, asthma, and eczema while supporting digestive wellness. Their HAPPYPUFFS were the first organic puffed snack for baby as a low sugar alternative to the artificial products on the market. HAPPYMELTS are the first product to combine pre and probiotics in a truly healthy yogurt snack for tots. Their HAPPYBITES line encourages kids to eat their veggies by sneaking them into familiar flavors. Most recently, the company is the first to use the supergrain, Salba, the planet’s most nutritious grain.

HAPPYBABY has created a tight-knit community of its own with its Community Marketing Specialist Program whose actions positively impact local communities nationwide. These 50 moms support the mission to give babies the very best and work to educate parents about why organic is important for their baby’s delicate immune system, demonstrate how to make fresh foods, and simply get the word out. The global community is impacted in a truly unique way by the company’s very special partnership with the heroic nonprofit, Project Peanut Butter, that works to feed a starving child in Africa for an entire day based on each unit sold by HAPPYBABY!

Customer relationships are paramount to a company that exists to make babies and parents happy. The founding team personally responds to all questions, directs medically related questions to its experts, and really listens to the feedback and suggestions from parents in order to continuously improve. They further believe that being a resource for education and wellness is their duty.

HAPPYBABY ‘s philosophy is highlighted in their new book, HAPPYBABY co-authored by revered pediatrician Dr Sears, provides parents with affordable green parenting options to raise their own healthy happy babies in an environmentally friendly way.

Temperamentally Yours

Following H's four-year check-up yesterday where I had a tearful moment after H spent the better half of the time I was trying to converse with the doctor enamoured with the crinkling sound of the exam table paper, I dusted off my copy of Temperament Tools: Working With Your Child's Inborn Traits.

Yes, I cried at the doctor's office. I cried because I'm tired of looking like she who cannot control her offspring. I cried because I'm terrified that my kid who couldn't sit still for three seconds during the appointment will be labeled as ADHD, ODD, ADD or whatever other thing I don't think he is. Lastly, I cried because laughing just didn't fit the bill. (see intensity of emotions below, maybe that's why we butt heads) Never fear, H didn't even notice because he was too busy with his symphony o' scratchy noises on the exam table.

I'm not saying I broke down, but the voice got quivery and my eyes welled with tears. I love our pediatrician, and he was very reassuring that he wasn't seeing anything that was concerning; H was behaving like a four-year old boy in a new situation and I was correcting him appropriately. Given that H is adapting so well to preschool and listening well there, that is a more important indicator than how they act in a 30 minute appointment. A fact that my rational self knows, but my perfect parenting self does not. He asked at that point why I was being so hard on myself. I explained then what has been dawning on me more and more; I don't have anything to 'show' for my 'work' anymore except how my kids turn out. He said "Well, then you're getting an A! H is great He's fine."

Emotional crisis averted, I asked him to check H's foreskin because I didn't think it had retracted yet, and it's not exactly easy to check at home. Yes, I'm going there, and you'll see why. Sure enough, still stubbornly in place. He said that he wasn't concerned, but that if it wasn't retracted by the time he was around 8, but definintely by puberty, that I could go see a urologist. I dumbly asked "And what will they do?" Yep, you guessed it, a circumcision.

I just let my head drop back. "Awesome, we chose not to do it when he was an infant because we didn't want to do something that would cause unnecessary pain, and now he might have to do it when he's eight?!" Doctor: "There you go being hard on yourself again! You made a good decision when he was born, and it's most likely that this will resolve itself. It's not medically necessary at birth."

Sweet. If you want your son to stop liking you, I've got an idea, make a decision for him at birth that causes him to have penis surgery when he's about to enter puberty! Here I thought baptizing our infants into the Catholic faith would cause controversy later. Oh no, no, we'll go ahead and one up that with pain in the here and now. But enough about that.

Back to Temperament Tools. Tired of constantly going to bed at night thinking of what I should have done better, questioning why I said that and promising that tomorrow would be a better day where I didn't let my four year-old wind me up only to repeat said routine, I realized that this just wasn't a battle of the wills I was winning.

So I got a pen this time, instead of just trying to mentally picture my scores as I went and I began marking the x's where both H and Charlie fall on the temperament traits of Activity, Adaptability, Approach to New Things, Frustration Reaction, Intensity of Emotions, Mood, Regularity and Sensitivity.

When I reached the end, I read the brief descriptions of the behaviors that go with certain 'temperament clusters' and was having a hard time finding which of the last three to pick. Then I saw "This high-energy child has many of the behaviors of the previous three. If you are therefore having trouble deciding which chapter to pick, turn first to page 117." Okay...turning pages, turning pages...then (because all the temperament examples are named after animals) 'The Bear Cub Combo";

Imagine the darting speed of a bird combined with the intesity of a prowling tiger and the powerful determination of a whale. When the temperaments of BeiLing Bluebird, Tiganda Tiger and Walocka Whale all combine in one small body, the result is the Olympic Challenge of Parenting.

You don't say!

The book then moves on to talk about learning styles, parenting tips and common behavioral issues. I have to say, as I was reading the three chapters of the animals that combine to make the temperament most like H's, the more disturbing or truly hard characteristics did not describe him. It's amazing how arming yourself with more information can suddenly turn "What the hell?! How am I this horrible a parent, and where did this ferral child come from?!" into "Oh, H isn't anywhere near that bad!" It's all relative, folks.

Learning about temperament is important to me, because I feel like the one thing I'm always so concerned about is smothering his spirit. Providing examples of effective discipline for each temperament-style, it's certainly not a book that just wants parents to let their children be free as a bird, but instead to incorporate all personalities and temperaments into a harmonious family, and not letting the intensity of one child, or your fear of their reaction to something rule the roost.

J had commented a couple times how H and I just wind each other up. Sure enough (in the Tiganda Tiger example); Intensity fuels intensity. When Mom yells, "Stop that!" or, "Be quiet!" or spanks Tiganda for hitting another child, Tiganda's intensity rises even higher. Which makes the kiddo less flexible, which makes mama mad, and the circle of strife continues.

Aparrently remaining calm will allow you to take control of the situation more effectively than flapping your arms around as you direct, demand and shout in loud tones. Oh, and probably having a non-neurotic parent helps out as well. Who knew?

I reviewed Baby Einstein's New World Animal Adventure DVD on Knitty Reviews today...come check it out!

My Motherhood, My Self

It's been awhile since I've posted because I was on vacation; Sweet Home Eastern Oregon (sing it Lynard Skynard style). I don't think I can encompass all the shenanigans and hilarity that ensued on this trip in one post, and I also can't talk about some of the ridiculosity because I value my relationship with Fancy Nancy.

So, here's a re-cap:

4am on a Monday morning, we got up and showered for the drive to TF Green, loaded the kids and pulled up to the airport at 6:15 for a flight that left at 7:15. Yes, we were late. The line for Southwest snaked out the door and the tension emanating off J's person was palpable. I strapped Charlie in my newly acquired Ergo, got out my suitcase and loaded H into the stroller while J parked the car in the long-term lot.

H was not pleased to be in the stroller, as he had his Elmo backpack on and it was a tight squeeze for the two of them...but he wouldn't take off the backpack, so his decision had a fun consequence. He screamed through the entire line to the ticket counter that "I don't WANT to be in the stroller!!!" Great, way to let the folks know in advance that you'll be that kid on their flight.

Luckily the employees at Southwest were speedy as always and we made it through the line in no time. The security line was equally quick, facilitated by being allowed to have Charlie remain in the Ergo since the only metal pieces are the little snaps at the shoulder for the sleeping hood. (One more reason to invest in it!)

While J the Pack Mule took the car seat and H to the gate, I used my two free hands to get coffee and muffins for the flight from Starbucks. We got there just in time to board and settle in. My friends had asked me the night before what my flights were, and I told them I had two two hour legs. I should have known my math was off...I was not prepared for the announcement that our flight was 5.5 hours...for the first leg...

I got a mini lunge workout, as I spent the entire 5 hours that we weren't taking off or landing standing in the aisle swaying back and forth. Reason #2 I'm glad I invested in the Ergo.

After a brief layover in Vegas where H kept asking if he could play the 'fun games', we made it to the Boise Airport where I had a mini-tantrum at the Budget counter when the staff tried to convince me that the Toyota Camry was the same size as a Taurus. Whatev'. J insists that it's just because I'm a Ford fanatic and don't know what to do with myself without one. Or, I believe his direct quote was "You're a Ford Fundamentalist trying to bring a jihad on the foreign auto-makers"...I think that was a bit much.

As we sped along I-84, I took in the scenery of sage brush and rolling hills and felt a lightness to my soul...I'm home!

At my sister's house in Ontario, we were greeted with the smell of a lasagna dinner and had just enough time to eat before Milly and I headed back to Boise to get Sherri and meet Baby A for the first time.

Baby and Sister #3 in tow, we left the airport and revealed our plan to get ice cream on the way home. We weren't sure where to stop, so decided to head further into Boise...we were talking, talking, talking before one of us finally said "Wait! Why is there just sage brush and no city?" Yeah, for those of you familiar with Boise, we were just miles outside Mountain Home...oops!

Safely ensconced in Cracker Barrel, after a little detour, we ordered berry cobbler with ice cream and then made our way back to Ontario at the early hour of 11pm...I'd essentially been up for since the day before since I only got three hours of sleep the night before...I was suddenly exhausted.

The time at home was fantastic; all four sisters in one spot at the same time with all of our kids! Of course, it was punctuated by the usual family mini-drama which, when related back to J (he left several days before I did due to work), elicited the response "Wow. I'm glad I missed that." But it was nothing that couldn't be soothed by soft-serve swirl cones at the Cove Drive-In

A particularly riotous addition for a couple days was a cousin's pit bull named Chaos who was 'starving'. Oh, good thing there were several small children whose faces he could eat if the hunger pangs became unbearable. Maybe it's just me, but feeding a dog whose breed is known for violent attacks before exposing him to a group of little ones running around in bathing suits would be prudent. Despite my snarky outlook, the dog was very gentle, and wasn't allowed to romp with the kids so my apprehensions were for naught.

H slept like a rock in a tent in the backyard next to Granny each night after days filled with swim trunks, slip-n-slides and ice lollies from 6am to 10pm. Charlie kicked it in the pack-n-play in my parent's bedroom each night while my dad's Darth Vader-esque sleep machine provided the lulling white noise.

Sherri and I(and J while he was there) stayed in a room at the Union Hotel; The Garden Room which, in addition to wooden lattice laced with plastic vines as a border and a white picket fence headboard (kitchy-cute), had a 'greenhouse-like-atmosphere' as there was no a/c and the window in our bedroom didn't have a screen on it. Thank goodness for ceiling fans, right? But no matter how steamy, or free of children the room may have been, there were no vacation interludes...it's a little hard to be romantic with the doors to the bathroom that joins your room to your sister's are wide open to facilitate airflow.

My 30th year was rung out in style, with some drinks with friends, J, and my sisters at Benchwarmers where I finally learned my happy medium. I had four fantastic drinks, had a great night, and didn't have even the hint of a hangover the next morning. No having had much practice with the whole drinking scene in college or high school, this lesson has taken me far longer to learn than Joe the Plumber. Sorry Ms. Palin, I had to make a reference to you, since your awkward rambling resignation punctuated my vacay.

The solo flight home went much more smoothly than the one with both parents on deck, and I'll maintain that it's because people show far more sympathy for a single mother travelling with two under 4 than a 1:1 parent/child ratio.

As I nudged open the door to our apartment, and the familiarly-scented, cool air hit my face I rolled the luggage into my bedroom, deposited the kids and breathed a sigh of contentment...I'm home.

(Not So) Turbo Kick-Boxing

Juice Box Jungle recently had an article called 'The Real Soccer Moms' and it was all about carving out time to 'take care of yourself'; specifically by taking the time to exercise and ensure that you're healthy. Whether it's to fit into that great pair of jeans or to increase your energy and have time with other adults. They were talking about how a lot of women feel guilty about taking time 'away' from their kids by taking a class or doing some other form of exercise that doesn't include them. However, they and several of the contributors said over and over that when you come back refreshed and invigorated, it'll make you 'more able to handle your little monsters on your return.'

I know that my gym membership has been worth it's weight in gold. Even if it's a day that I'm not exercising, I've dropped my kids in the Child Watch while I read a book or knit in the lobby for my allotted 90 minutes. It's just as nice for them to get a break from me, I'm sure, as it is for me to get one from them.

On that note, yesterday I decided to try a new class at the Y. I deposited the kids in the child watch, crossing my fingers that I wouldn't be called out due to Charlie's new found love of crying when put down by the Child Watch folks who can't really sit and hold him the whole time or H's inability to keep his little paws to himself. Mind you, each of the above incident's has only happened once but I had always been very lucky in my kids' willingness to go to, and stay in, the Child Watch while I had my "me time", so I didn't want to be too confident.

I ran into the classroom after taking an extra 10 seconds to top off my water bottle and found that the room was filled with what looked like about 300 women, but was probably closer to 50. The music was already going and the instructor was not your average cute little nymph of a trim fitness guru. This woman was a powerhouse. She was very petite, but had visible muscle definition everywhere. I got into position and started mimicking her crosses and jabs paired with hip turns and heels popping off the floor. 'What's so hard about this? I could do this all day! This will be a great new class!' Because The Contender is probably my favorite reality TV show, I had created an unrealistic image in my mind of what I may look like while performing boxing moves.

"Okay, folks, let's take it up to tempo!" WHAT?! Suddenly it was like kick boxing on crack, which is, I guess, where the turbo part comes in. Once I got my hips to move with the correct arm, I felt like I was in business...but wait, it got harder. I looked around to see if I was the one who had a puddle of sweat (well, not quite literally) and was relieved to see that even the most fit were sporting large sweat stains down the backs of their shirts. And to think I used to look incredulously at J while watching boxing to say 'They're just standing there hugging each other!" Yeah. Because they're exhausted!

By the end when we were doing push-ups in a dozen different positions, I had to grip the edges of my mat in order to keep from sliding around. ewwww. I was so glad I'd taken time to fill up the bottle that I'd already sucked down, and I felt great! I waited out the thirty minutes of Child Watch I had left in order to ease back from Sweaty Betty mode and then went to their respective rooms to collect them.

When I got to Charlie's room they talked about his steps across the room. I pointed a surprised finger at him and said 'Charlie walked three steps?!" When the caretaker excitedly described how he's been holding onto the Exersaucer and then just let go and toddled three steps on his fat little legs before sitting down, all the power from the class left me like a deflating balloon. "Those were his first steps..." The words left my mouth and she looked stricken. I was mainly disappointed because so far I've missed every important milestone by literally being just in the next room.

He rolled over for the first time during the nanosecond that I was using the bathroom during his grandparent's visit in September. Then he crawled when J was home with him and I was blow-drying my hair...now he walks in Child Watch?! Seriously, the kid is taunting me. See, it doesn't matter if your work or stay at home full-time, you'll never be there for every moment. But before I started circling the want-ads, I called to commiserate with my friend Alex who reminded me 'But you're there for everything else.' Oh yeah.