So I'll have to write another entry to bring everyone up to date on my crazy last few days. INcluding but not limited to: the ER, being drugged out of my mind, spending a few nights at my parents', and getting personally chauffered to Starbucks.
Right now I want to talk about a brush.
Steve and I spent last night at a hotel in downtown Indy for my birthday. It was really fun and really really nice. As I was packing up our bag, I used his brush. Since I had curled my hair under - it was fairly easy. Sometimes he asks me if he can borrow my brush. I always tell him the same thing. "I don't brush my hair." 90% of the time my hair is in a finger-brushed ponytail, or if I actually "do" it - it's really curly ergo, I'm not going to "brush" it.
So anywho he has this paddle brush and I can't help but feel like Marcia Brady. "97, 98, 99, 100!"
I used to have this friend, Christa, in college and she always was asking me if I had a pick.
A pick?
I would always tell her the same thing. "No Christa, not since 1987." And resisted the urge to say, "But I do have a banana clip and some legwarmers in my purse - I mean fanny pack!"
I'm not knocking the pick, I carried my fair share back in the day and some of my friends still use them - but it just always struck me as odd and that she would ask me - over and over - if I had a pick. odd.
Anywho - so it felt weird to brush my hair. I guess that's all I have to say about that.
Friday 28 September 2007
Wednesday 26 September 2007
a little test
http://www.usatoday.com/news/politics/election2008/candidate-match-game.htm
Oh my goodness, my first choice came up as the most liberal democrat out there! EEk that can't be right! My second and third were Republicans though. ~Phew~
Oh my goodness, my first choice came up as the most liberal democrat out there! EEk that can't be right! My second and third were Republicans though. ~Phew~
Tuesday 25 September 2007
Monday 24 September 2007
Surprise!!!!
As many of you know... I have been planning Steve's surprise 30th birthday party for a loooong time. Well, this Saturday it went of without a hitch! I actually pulled it off and he never figured it out!
Surprise!!
His "Starry Starry Night" cake from Classic Cakes of Carmel
A great picture of the birthday boy! (Not so much me.....I have blue teeth!)
His art on display at the art gallery of Pendleton!
Surprise!!
His "Starry Starry Night" cake from Classic Cakes of Carmel
A great picture of the birthday boy! (Not so much me.....I have blue teeth!)
His art on display at the art gallery of Pendleton!
Friday 21 September 2007
Was that a creak?
Steve is rarely ever gone. This is one of the parts of his job I am so incredibly thankful for! Aside from some looooong days as the only parent, I...well...just get creeped out at night in this house when I'm here alone.
I remember when I was home alone as a kid-now, when I say "kid" I mean like - 14 - I would get really creeped out by my house at night. I would tell myself that it was the same ol' house that I was in every other night. I think you just get hyper-aware of every little thing that makes a sound. I find myself like peeeeeeeking around the doors and looking past every window i see. I'd turn on the alarm but then I'd forget about it and my husband would come in and set it off.
Pass the mustard . . .
Thursday 20 September 2007
Will you still love me Tomorrow?
The other night I sat Steve down with some "big" news.
I said, "We need to talk about something. There's something I need to tell you."
He furrowed a little bit. Those words usually don't bring the best news from me.
We sat down at the table. "Ok. Give it to me."
"I think I might be a Libertarian." I rushed on. "Not like, a TOTAL libertarian, but just . . . a little. I think I'm a little bit Libertarian."
"OK." He said.
He took that really well!
Now, this is from a couple that GRILLED each other on our second date about our political views. We literally covered abortion, taxes, gun control, immegration, and education in one night. We both have very specific views and wanted to make sure we weren't "wasting" our time.
"Well, tell me about it."
I told him I had been doing a lot of reading and researching, and I felt like the Libertarians were on to something. They're against property taxes. They feel like if you broke your back to pay off your house and the land you purchased, you shouldn't be taxed on your own property.
I think that's 100% right.
They also aren't against experimental medical treatment. The years and years of red tape pharmicutical companies are required to go through are a little ecessive. If there is an experimental treatment available and the risks have been properly assessed, why not let an individula person decide if that treatment is right for them? If the risks outweigh the benefits in their particular situation.
FREE ENTERPRISE>
They're also huge proponents of Privatization of just about everything. The private sector simply does thing better. They have to compete over customers, so they're constantly innovating. Why are so many of our Public Schools failing? Because it's a monopoly. You HAVE to go to the school in your district or pay money for a private school or pay to switch to another public school. Why not attach the money (say, around 8,000 in Indiana's case) to the CHILD and allow the parents to decide which school is the best fit? That way, schools would be forced to compete for their students and wouldn't be so complacent.
I read one case of a division of public works in Mississippi (I think) whose water system was so corroded and disgusting, no one could drink the water. The city said it would cost 10 million dollars to totally overhaul the issues and fix the problem. The Mayor did something CRA_ZY. He lets private companies bid on it. One company bid 2 million. They fixed the entire problem, plus others, and had money to spare. They were motivated by making a profit. What a difference competition makes!
Of course I am still conservative in my new found Libertarian views. I'm just glad my elephant still loves me!
Tuesday 18 September 2007
I like mine with lettuce and tomato
In the era of speed dating, I think there should be speed fighting.
I don't know about any of you, loyal readers, but I find that most of my marital fights start over something stupid like shoes or toothbrushes or something. The fight itself usually isn't that bad. Sometimes it's the making up that's worse. Cause sometimes when you're explaining why you got mad in the first place you get all mad again and then you go drudging up stuff from the past and every thing your partner's ever done wrong . . . and then you're fighting all over again.
So my suggestion is to have a code word that means, "I don't want to fight anymore, and I don't want to have that long drawn out post fight discussion."
Now, I am by no means saying you should avoid talking about WHY you're fighting or how you could work better together etc... but on those times when you know you're not fighting over anything substantial and you know you just don't have the energy to have the looooong post fight talk - you could just use a codeword like "Cheeseburger in Paradise" that means you just don't have it in you this time.
Those of us with young children, we're just too busy and too tired to have stupid 3hour fights anymore. Maybe something like "Regina Flange" or "Vespasian" that will bring a smile to your face and stop you both from tunnelling into that pit that becomes "We're going to Fight until I win" zone.
Or, maybe I'm just the only one with this problem.
I don't know about any of you, loyal readers, but I find that most of my marital fights start over something stupid like shoes or toothbrushes or something. The fight itself usually isn't that bad. Sometimes it's the making up that's worse. Cause sometimes when you're explaining why you got mad in the first place you get all mad again and then you go drudging up stuff from the past and every thing your partner's ever done wrong . . . and then you're fighting all over again.
So my suggestion is to have a code word that means, "I don't want to fight anymore, and I don't want to have that long drawn out post fight discussion."
Now, I am by no means saying you should avoid talking about WHY you're fighting or how you could work better together etc... but on those times when you know you're not fighting over anything substantial and you know you just don't have the energy to have the looooong post fight talk - you could just use a codeword like "Cheeseburger in Paradise" that means you just don't have it in you this time.
Those of us with young children, we're just too busy and too tired to have stupid 3hour fights anymore. Maybe something like "Regina Flange" or "Vespasian" that will bring a smile to your face and stop you both from tunnelling into that pit that becomes "We're going to Fight until I win" zone.
Or, maybe I'm just the only one with this problem.
Monday 17 September 2007
All that philosiphising for nothing
I was on the tractor over the weekend helping Steve aerate the lawn. (That came straight out of the book of things I thought I would never say!) It gives me some "alone" time away from the baby and gives him that special Father-Daughter bonding time. As I made my slow laps around the backyard, I noticed something pale and feathery in the grass. It was a dead little bird.
I don't know why it would catch me off guard - living in the "country" I do see these things from time to time. I guess there's always something about a small dead animal that makes you sad.
It's been a rough week in the Fulton family with death. We had a close family friend pass away last week, and it's plunged us all into the midst of solemnity. Steve, more than I, had to deal with the details et cetera. On Friday we left the graveside to visit another grave of a close family member. As he spent a few moments alone beside the site, I allowed myself to wander around. It was a gorgeous day and there were no people around. I don't mean to sound morose, but I really love graveyards. I remember meandering through them in Europe, wondering what people had chosen as their last words to the living. I remember seeing countless Jewish cemeteries where the headstones had been destroyed by German soldiers. I don't know why their families didn't fix them. Although they probably had more important issues at the time. But it just fascinated me to walk through the silent fields, imaging the details of the lives underneath me.
Seeing as these graveyards were in my native tongue, I could freely read what people had written on their headstones. Some said things like "Beloved Mother" or "Brother", Some had pictures etched, others just dates. One little stone caught my eye because it had a lamb on it. I found that an odd choice, but as I bent down I saw it was a five year old. My heart just ached. So many of the couples' gravestones said things about how much they loved each other, or witticisms about "moving to a bigger place." There were some with exact same date of death, and some - where a wife followed her husband by only a few days. That's always fascinated me.
As I started back toward my husband, I noticed a gravestone with an actual picture in it. I've never seen one with a "frame" of sorts to hold a photo, so I bent for a closer look.
It was an 11 month old.
I was as breathless as those on whose graves I had so carelessly tread. Someone lost their 11 month old baby. The same exact age as Madeline. I thought, for one second, about losing my baby girl, and nearly had an anxiety attack.
I remember when I first lost someone close to me - a friend close to my own age. I remember telling my mom a few months later, that I wanted to send my friend's parents a letter, telling them the things I loved about my friend, but I didn't want to be in poor taste. My Mother told me that, as a parents, when you bury a child, your worst fear is that they'll be forgotten. That no one will pause to remember them after a few years go by. That's always stuck with me.
According to the gravestone,the baby was born and died in the late 70s, just a few years before I was born. I don't know the family. I don't know the circumstances. But, at that moment, I was grieving for their loss. I prayed that at that exact moment they would feel comfort and know, somehow, that someone was thinking about their baby.
My little bird...my everything.
"They" say you can't understand the love you have for a child until you have one of your own. Truer words were never spoken. I've never loved or felt anything vaguely close to how much I love Madeline. I would give my life in a nanosecond if it would give a chance of saving her. It made me feel badly about those times I get frustrated with her for whining or not giving me 2 minutes to "myself." My baby is alive and healthy. Every day with her is a gift.
As I got closer to the bird, I was trying to figure out how to avoid it with the tractor and not leave a huge patch of tall, un-aerated grass. I can see it now:
Steve: "Why is there a huge patch of tall grass out there?"
Erin: "Because there was a dead bird out there."
Steve: "O...k."
Erin: "Well, I didn't want to run over him. You know . . . out of respect."
Although my husband would have understood, his overly sensitive, melancholy wife. I tried to reason myself into disassociating with the little bird. But, the moment was upon me, and I moved the tractor ever so slightly and missed the feathers. I thought maybe I could just walk over it in my high heels or something.
I parked the tractor and went to visit my own little one. She was wrapped up in blankets, her arm slung over her red already tattered bear. I resisted the urge to swoop her up, but ran my hand over her back for a long time.
I don't know what I'll do when she wants to leave the safety of my nest.
My husband and I settled in with a fire outside, and talked about the events of the week-finally having some time to reflect on them.
The next day I was scattering some of our fire's ashes on the compost (it keeps the dogs and coyotes out of it) and noticed the bird carcass a few feet away. I knew my city dog turned country scavenger would make a feast out of it, so I concocted a plan to scoop it to the far end of the yard with a shovel.
As I neared - I realized it was a dried up husk from some corn we'd roasted a few weeks before. It must have blown off the compost heap.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
I don't know why it would catch me off guard - living in the "country" I do see these things from time to time. I guess there's always something about a small dead animal that makes you sad.
It's been a rough week in the Fulton family with death. We had a close family friend pass away last week, and it's plunged us all into the midst of solemnity. Steve, more than I, had to deal with the details et cetera. On Friday we left the graveside to visit another grave of a close family member. As he spent a few moments alone beside the site, I allowed myself to wander around. It was a gorgeous day and there were no people around. I don't mean to sound morose, but I really love graveyards. I remember meandering through them in Europe, wondering what people had chosen as their last words to the living. I remember seeing countless Jewish cemeteries where the headstones had been destroyed by German soldiers. I don't know why their families didn't fix them. Although they probably had more important issues at the time. But it just fascinated me to walk through the silent fields, imaging the details of the lives underneath me.
Seeing as these graveyards were in my native tongue, I could freely read what people had written on their headstones. Some said things like "Beloved Mother" or "Brother", Some had pictures etched, others just dates. One little stone caught my eye because it had a lamb on it. I found that an odd choice, but as I bent down I saw it was a five year old. My heart just ached. So many of the couples' gravestones said things about how much they loved each other, or witticisms about "moving to a bigger place." There were some with exact same date of death, and some - where a wife followed her husband by only a few days. That's always fascinated me.
As I started back toward my husband, I noticed a gravestone with an actual picture in it. I've never seen one with a "frame" of sorts to hold a photo, so I bent for a closer look.
It was an 11 month old.
I was as breathless as those on whose graves I had so carelessly tread. Someone lost their 11 month old baby. The same exact age as Madeline. I thought, for one second, about losing my baby girl, and nearly had an anxiety attack.
I remember when I first lost someone close to me - a friend close to my own age. I remember telling my mom a few months later, that I wanted to send my friend's parents a letter, telling them the things I loved about my friend, but I didn't want to be in poor taste. My Mother told me that, as a parents, when you bury a child, your worst fear is that they'll be forgotten. That no one will pause to remember them after a few years go by. That's always stuck with me.
According to the gravestone,the baby was born and died in the late 70s, just a few years before I was born. I don't know the family. I don't know the circumstances. But, at that moment, I was grieving for their loss. I prayed that at that exact moment they would feel comfort and know, somehow, that someone was thinking about their baby.
My little bird...my everything.
"They" say you can't understand the love you have for a child until you have one of your own. Truer words were never spoken. I've never loved or felt anything vaguely close to how much I love Madeline. I would give my life in a nanosecond if it would give a chance of saving her. It made me feel badly about those times I get frustrated with her for whining or not giving me 2 minutes to "myself." My baby is alive and healthy. Every day with her is a gift.
As I got closer to the bird, I was trying to figure out how to avoid it with the tractor and not leave a huge patch of tall, un-aerated grass. I can see it now:
Steve: "Why is there a huge patch of tall grass out there?"
Erin: "Because there was a dead bird out there."
Steve: "O...k."
Erin: "Well, I didn't want to run over him. You know . . . out of respect."
Although my husband would have understood, his overly sensitive, melancholy wife. I tried to reason myself into disassociating with the little bird. But, the moment was upon me, and I moved the tractor ever so slightly and missed the feathers. I thought maybe I could just walk over it in my high heels or something.
I parked the tractor and went to visit my own little one. She was wrapped up in blankets, her arm slung over her red already tattered bear. I resisted the urge to swoop her up, but ran my hand over her back for a long time.
I don't know what I'll do when she wants to leave the safety of my nest.
My husband and I settled in with a fire outside, and talked about the events of the week-finally having some time to reflect on them.
The next day I was scattering some of our fire's ashes on the compost (it keeps the dogs and coyotes out of it) and noticed the bird carcass a few feet away. I knew my city dog turned country scavenger would make a feast out of it, so I concocted a plan to scoop it to the far end of the yard with a shovel.
As I neared - I realized it was a dried up husk from some corn we'd roasted a few weeks before. It must have blown off the compost heap.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
The single best invention ever
No, it's not this weird shaped bed.....and it's not even the duvet on top. (How did I live without my goose down duvet?) It's what's under the sheets!!
A bed warmer!
My parents had one of these when I was growing up. I remember being allowed to sneak into their bed on the occasional Saturday morning and feeling how warm their bed was.
Basically, you put it on like a matress pad. It has electricity running through it and you have your own little dial to pick your heat level. Mine is always on high, my husband's side is usually on like 4.
But it is beyond wonderful to wake up on a cool morning like today and have nice toasty feet and legs!
How did the pioneers do it??
Thursday 13 September 2007
One less (fewer)
Sooo I actually found ONE THING that I don't have to worry about!
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/localnews/stories/DN-tacks_12met.ART.State.Edition1.428a381.html
My favourite part? The sentence that said," they enrolled him in a different daycare the next day." You don't think that being stuck with thumbtacks would warrent taking a day off to make sure your child is all right?????
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/localnews/stories/DN-tacks_12met.ART.State.Edition1.428a381.html
My favourite part? The sentence that said," they enrolled him in a different daycare the next day." You don't think that being stuck with thumbtacks would warrent taking a day off to make sure your child is all right?????
Wednesday 12 September 2007
A few things I learned today
1. If you buy your child an expensive new toy, they will only want to play with the box, or a toy they have had for their entire (short) life.
2. If you decide to do a "quick" diaper change on the floor, it will be the dirtiest diaper of the day.
3. The day I don't put on any makeup and have a zit the size of Burundi I will see one of my cute friends unexpectedly.
4. Sometimes, just sometimes, your child will actually behave and have a good day despite some very short naps.
5. Little Einsteins makes cereal and it's on sale for only ONE DOLLAR at WalMart!
2. If you decide to do a "quick" diaper change on the floor, it will be the dirtiest diaper of the day.
3. The day I don't put on any makeup and have a zit the size of Burundi I will see one of my cute friends unexpectedly.
4. Sometimes, just sometimes, your child will actually behave and have a good day despite some very short naps.
5. Little Einsteins makes cereal and it's on sale for only ONE DOLLAR at WalMart!
Yes I am a dork
I have fallen in love with facebook. I know I know - I'm not 16 therefore I shouldn't be using it. BUT - before you judge too quickly... I have reconnected with people I thought I had lost forever. I have found every single one of my college roommates and tons of old college friends I haven't talked to in years!
I have also reconnected with so many of my former students. Plus, it's a nice to connect with people in a low key way.
But yes, I realize it makes me a big nerd.
I have also reconnected with so many of my former students. Plus, it's a nice to connect with people in a low key way.
But yes, I realize it makes me a big nerd.
Tuesday 11 September 2007
There were never such devoted sisters
It surprises many people to find out that I am the youngest of 4 children. Everyone always thinks I'm an "only." I hope it's not because I act like a brat, and more so because there are 12 and 10 years between us respectively.
The oldest of all of us is Shawn. She's 12 years older than I am - so by the time I was in the 3rd grade she was in college. Needless to say I just don't have a lot of memories with her from my childhood. My brother Pat is the next oldest and then Joy - both 10 years older than I. I didn't really get to "know" Pat until he and I lived together a few years back. Joy and I were always the most "alike." Both melancholy, my mother used to say that we weren't happy unless we were unhappy. Probably true. When we talk on the phone now and we have to say something that may be hard to hear we'll say "Melancholy to melancholy."
But even as an adult I just never reconnected with Shawn. She got married and had children by the time I was a teenager and by then I was too full of angst and self consciousness to think about anyone else. I was always kind of embarrassed by Shawn. She was incredibly outgoing and friendly. She'd strike up a conversation with anyone who would listen from the bagger at the grocery to the bank teller. She's one of those people who doesn't have that "net" to stop what she thinks from coming straight out her mouth. Yes, we're all guilty of this at times, but my sister constantly lived this way. It mortified me. When I would bring a boyfriend round for the holidays I would always be consumed with worry about her over-bubbliness. I was horrified that she'd say something to embarrass me.
Yeah I know. "Self absorbed much Erin?" I'll say it for you.
In the past year or two, my sister has seen more hardships than most see in decades. It has shut her down and made her introverted and almost...shy. Her life is a hard one now, and my heart breaks daily for her. I was driving the other day thinking of her, and it just occurred to me how much I missed my sister.
For whatever part I had in her ceasing to be who she is - I will be eternally sorry. Sure, I can tell myself that it's the 234098 other difficult things in her life, far more important to her than my opinion, but - I don't have to think about those other things at night. I have to think of the mean looks I gave her when she embarrassed me. Perhaps even the pointed words I used to shut her up.
She's my sister. We don't have a lot in common, but she's my sister - my blood. If I had to endure all that she's had to - I probably wouldn't have made it. She's not a quitter. She's the turtle who keeps that steady pace, come hell or high water. I'm that psycho rabbit that is so overdriven he races for the finish , and then just quits riiiight at the end when something difficult happens.
My sister doesn't read my blog. She'll never see this.
Shawn,
I'm sorry. The words are trite, but my heart is contrite. I love you so much, and I'm sorry about everything in your life that is hard. Just like my own child, I wish I could hide you away somewhere where you'd be safe forever. For anything I've ever done or said that has caused you pain, I am truly truly broken over it. The effervescence and charisma you exhibited was something that I now so much admire. It made you stand out from the millions of drones around you. I love you, and I believe in you, and I'm sorry.
Erin
The oldest of all of us is Shawn. She's 12 years older than I am - so by the time I was in the 3rd grade she was in college. Needless to say I just don't have a lot of memories with her from my childhood. My brother Pat is the next oldest and then Joy - both 10 years older than I. I didn't really get to "know" Pat until he and I lived together a few years back. Joy and I were always the most "alike." Both melancholy, my mother used to say that we weren't happy unless we were unhappy. Probably true. When we talk on the phone now and we have to say something that may be hard to hear we'll say "Melancholy to melancholy."
But even as an adult I just never reconnected with Shawn. She got married and had children by the time I was a teenager and by then I was too full of angst and self consciousness to think about anyone else. I was always kind of embarrassed by Shawn. She was incredibly outgoing and friendly. She'd strike up a conversation with anyone who would listen from the bagger at the grocery to the bank teller. She's one of those people who doesn't have that "net" to stop what she thinks from coming straight out her mouth. Yes, we're all guilty of this at times, but my sister constantly lived this way. It mortified me. When I would bring a boyfriend round for the holidays I would always be consumed with worry about her over-bubbliness. I was horrified that she'd say something to embarrass me.
Yeah I know. "Self absorbed much Erin?" I'll say it for you.
In the past year or two, my sister has seen more hardships than most see in decades. It has shut her down and made her introverted and almost...shy. Her life is a hard one now, and my heart breaks daily for her. I was driving the other day thinking of her, and it just occurred to me how much I missed my sister.
For whatever part I had in her ceasing to be who she is - I will be eternally sorry. Sure, I can tell myself that it's the 234098 other difficult things in her life, far more important to her than my opinion, but - I don't have to think about those other things at night. I have to think of the mean looks I gave her when she embarrassed me. Perhaps even the pointed words I used to shut her up.
She's my sister. We don't have a lot in common, but she's my sister - my blood. If I had to endure all that she's had to - I probably wouldn't have made it. She's not a quitter. She's the turtle who keeps that steady pace, come hell or high water. I'm that psycho rabbit that is so overdriven he races for the finish , and then just quits riiiight at the end when something difficult happens.
My sister doesn't read my blog. She'll never see this.
Shawn,
I'm sorry. The words are trite, but my heart is contrite. I love you so much, and I'm sorry about everything in your life that is hard. Just like my own child, I wish I could hide you away somewhere where you'd be safe forever. For anything I've ever done or said that has caused you pain, I am truly truly broken over it. The effervescence and charisma you exhibited was something that I now so much admire. It made you stand out from the millions of drones around you. I love you, and I believe in you, and I'm sorry.
Erin
The Woods are Lovely, Dark and Deep
So, as many of you know, I am slowly becoming a "country girl." And by Country Girl I mean we're 30 minutes from the nearest Mall and Target. And, the local school has "tractor day" in the fall.I used to work downtown Indianapolis and it was nice to enjoy both city and country life. But now, most of my days are spent in this little town, and I find myself very happy.
The other night we heard howling in the backyard. We've heard it a lot. Around the 4th of July when fireworks were in full bloom, we heard yipping in the backyard. Steve kept trying to convince me it was coyotes, but I knew it was just dogs.
But then, the other night, we heard the same sound. Steve took off like a shot - determined to see these alleged coyotes. I went after him, and we found ourselves peering out the patio door. He flicked on the outside flood lights and - . . . nothing.
I peered out another window when I heard him call me back. "Look over there by the garden!" And, there was a HUGE coyote. It was almost the size of our Lab. Poking through our garden and heading toward the neighbors' house.
I was freaking out. I got the big stick out of the sliding door. What was I going to do with it? Ida know... it just made me feel better to have a big stick in my hand.
Then our neighbor dog, Ben, comes tearing through his yard- into ours and goes running after the coyote - which actually turned out to be a coyote AND his brother. Ben nipped it in the leg, and scared it/them away.
I kept holding the stick. You know, just in case.
We went upstairs and camped out on our balcony for a while. We could see their glowing eyes when we'd shine our flashlights into the backyard. We got caught up in talking, and realized that the coyotes were gone - back to their lair in the woods.
I really have fallen in love with living here in Pendleton. Who would have thought that I'd have to worry about backyard coyotes?
Anyone know where I can get a good roadrunner/
Meep Meep!
Thursday 6 September 2007
But I have promises to keep
When I was childless, I must admit that I wasn't a huge fan of children. When I was in a restaurant and I heard a kid whine or cry I always cast a dirty look at the parents who seemed oblivious to it. I was a high school teacher - I LOVED teenagers - but little kids - freaked me out!! I always swore to myself that if, by some twist of nature, I was to procreate - I would always make sure my children were pleasant and well mannered.
Turns out that's just a liiiitle harder than expected. Take last Saturday for instance. My husband and I met my in-laws for dinner after a very long trip to Watsons for spa chemicals. Madeline was getting sick and was about to hit the wall. I prayed she'd just conk out in her stroller and we could enjoy our nice hot meal.
Yeahhhhhh.
Steve and I pretty much held her the entire time and tried to keep her content and quiet by doing a vast array of aerobatics, face contortions, and random objects as toys. I turned crimson every time someone would look our way - whether they looked annoyed or not.
It's amazing what situational ethics will do for you. After a long day of non-stop crying and whining and my food intake consisting of a cookie and a fruit leather and the realization that I'm still in my pajamas and haven't visited the bathroom...letting Madeline play in the dog bowl doesn't seem quite so disgusting. I don't feel like telling her "no-no" 500 times! I just want to let her do what she wants.
Eek! That's a slippery slope! I'm not saying bending the rules is a bad thing - but it's amazing how dedicated you can be while childless to rearing the perfect kids - but when they show their smiling (or non-smiling as the case may be) faces - - after a long hard day, you just want 3 minutes to yourself.
The thing about parenting - is that you're always working. You don't clock out at 5:00. You can't leave your problems at the "office." Even after your little one's in bed, you're rehashing the day and wondering if you made all the right choices.
I know I'm going to make lots of mistakes, but I am committed to this parenting thing. I've seen those undisciplined kids in my classroom at 16 and it's a little late for intervention then.
Meanwhile, I need to close all the toilet lids.
Turns out that's just a liiiitle harder than expected. Take last Saturday for instance. My husband and I met my in-laws for dinner after a very long trip to Watsons for spa chemicals. Madeline was getting sick and was about to hit the wall. I prayed she'd just conk out in her stroller and we could enjoy our nice hot meal.
Yeahhhhhh.
Steve and I pretty much held her the entire time and tried to keep her content and quiet by doing a vast array of aerobatics, face contortions, and random objects as toys. I turned crimson every time someone would look our way - whether they looked annoyed or not.
It's amazing what situational ethics will do for you. After a long day of non-stop crying and whining and my food intake consisting of a cookie and a fruit leather and the realization that I'm still in my pajamas and haven't visited the bathroom...letting Madeline play in the dog bowl doesn't seem quite so disgusting. I don't feel like telling her "no-no" 500 times! I just want to let her do what she wants.
Eek! That's a slippery slope! I'm not saying bending the rules is a bad thing - but it's amazing how dedicated you can be while childless to rearing the perfect kids - but when they show their smiling (or non-smiling as the case may be) faces - - after a long hard day, you just want 3 minutes to yourself.
The thing about parenting - is that you're always working. You don't clock out at 5:00. You can't leave your problems at the "office." Even after your little one's in bed, you're rehashing the day and wondering if you made all the right choices.
I know I'm going to make lots of mistakes, but I am committed to this parenting thing. I've seen those undisciplined kids in my classroom at 16 and it's a little late for intervention then.
Meanwhile, I need to close all the toilet lids.
Sunday 2 September 2007
And Miles to go Before I Sleep
Madeline's been sick. Anyone who's had a child can tell you there are few things worse than having a sick baby. Having one who can't communicate with you is even worse. She's been scorching hot, runny nose, and very whiny and clingy. It can wear you down quicker than just about anything else. Sleep patterns are interrupted, eating slows down to just about nothing, and days move like a snail with a disability. 6:00 on Friday couldn't come quickly enough.
Daddy worked his usual magic and cheered Madeline up and put her to bed with little problem. We decided to build a fire outside since it was nice and chilly. He got a nice fire going in the fire pit and I got some bananas ready for our favourite fire-pit snack. We spent the evening gazing up at the amazing stars and being very thankful for the safe passage of another week.
We climbed into bed around 11 and, as usual, I stayed up to read a few minutes. I am presently reading a book called "Crossing Over" - about a woman who leaves the Amish life. She tells, in great detail, the pain it caused her family. How terribly she felt about leaving her mother. And now, she found herself unable to have children of her own.
For some reason that hit me incredibly hard. It had been a rougher than normal week with Madeline, and I wasn't exactly thanking my lucky stars for being at home with her all day every day. But at that moment, I felt so lucky to have her that I had to get up and look at her.
I sneaked into her room, trying not to make a peep, and found her sleeping on her tummy with her little butt up in the air. One arm flung over her new favourite stuffed animal. I couldn't get over how long she was. The first time I put her in that crib it looked like it was going to swallow her up. Now, I don't know how she'll stay in it much longer. Tears rushed into my eyes and I realized how quickly the time was passing. A little over a month and my little precious will be a year old.
I reached over the crib and picked up my sleeping baby. She was warm and flushed, and her head fell into my shoulder as I picked her up. We sat in the rocking chair and I just took in the moment. Her fuzzy head tickling my chin, her little hand grasping onto the neckline of my t-shirt, the rhythm of her breathing, her smell - a smell I could pick out of 100 babies.
I felt my tears run onto her face and splash onto her pajamas. Her long body completely covering her old, uterine, home.
I obviously wasn't the only one coming into her room at night. Time had been stealing in unbeknownst to me. Replacing my needy, infantile baby with a strong, beautiful....toddler.
I held her for a long time. I know picking up a sleeping baby is the first in line of "things never ever to do", but I didn't care. I didn't care if I woke her up and had to spend the rest of the night rocking her back to sleep. I had to hold my baby at that moment. I had to burn it into my memory. I know, that when she goes off to kindergarten, college, or to the home of another - I will remember that night.
I finally put her down, but I couldn't leave. I found a few of her extra blankets and laid down beside the crib. It was a good feeling to be so close to her,knowing that anything that would come in to harm her would have to come through me first. (In other words, it would meet with certain *very painful* death.)
I laid still and listened to her get resettled, like a pearl, never realizing she had been taken out of her shell and admired. I couldn't stop from crying. I just wished I could freeze that very moment for a year or so.
But I couldn't, and I know....that I wouldn't really want to.
But that night, time would have to pass without entrance.
Daddy worked his usual magic and cheered Madeline up and put her to bed with little problem. We decided to build a fire outside since it was nice and chilly. He got a nice fire going in the fire pit and I got some bananas ready for our favourite fire-pit snack. We spent the evening gazing up at the amazing stars and being very thankful for the safe passage of another week.
We climbed into bed around 11 and, as usual, I stayed up to read a few minutes. I am presently reading a book called "Crossing Over" - about a woman who leaves the Amish life. She tells, in great detail, the pain it caused her family. How terribly she felt about leaving her mother. And now, she found herself unable to have children of her own.
For some reason that hit me incredibly hard. It had been a rougher than normal week with Madeline, and I wasn't exactly thanking my lucky stars for being at home with her all day every day. But at that moment, I felt so lucky to have her that I had to get up and look at her.
I sneaked into her room, trying not to make a peep, and found her sleeping on her tummy with her little butt up in the air. One arm flung over her new favourite stuffed animal. I couldn't get over how long she was. The first time I put her in that crib it looked like it was going to swallow her up. Now, I don't know how she'll stay in it much longer. Tears rushed into my eyes and I realized how quickly the time was passing. A little over a month and my little precious will be a year old.
I reached over the crib and picked up my sleeping baby. She was warm and flushed, and her head fell into my shoulder as I picked her up. We sat in the rocking chair and I just took in the moment. Her fuzzy head tickling my chin, her little hand grasping onto the neckline of my t-shirt, the rhythm of her breathing, her smell - a smell I could pick out of 100 babies.
I felt my tears run onto her face and splash onto her pajamas. Her long body completely covering her old, uterine, home.
I obviously wasn't the only one coming into her room at night. Time had been stealing in unbeknownst to me. Replacing my needy, infantile baby with a strong, beautiful....toddler.
I held her for a long time. I know picking up a sleeping baby is the first in line of "things never ever to do", but I didn't care. I didn't care if I woke her up and had to spend the rest of the night rocking her back to sleep. I had to hold my baby at that moment. I had to burn it into my memory. I know, that when she goes off to kindergarten, college, or to the home of another - I will remember that night.
I finally put her down, but I couldn't leave. I found a few of her extra blankets and laid down beside the crib. It was a good feeling to be so close to her,knowing that anything that would come in to harm her would have to come through me first. (In other words, it would meet with certain *very painful* death.)
I laid still and listened to her get resettled, like a pearl, never realizing she had been taken out of her shell and admired. I couldn't stop from crying. I just wished I could freeze that very moment for a year or so.
But I couldn't, and I know....that I wouldn't really want to.
But that night, time would have to pass without entrance.
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