There Are No Words...

I do not know what to say. My punishment, combined with Zach's punishment?

Here are the events of the day: Zach got up, went to work. I got up, did stuff, Jacob got up, I fed him and then spent the next 2 hours gradually getting ready for a 12:30 appointment. I left for said appointment and returned 2 hours later, the same time Zach arrived home for a late lunch. The 3 of us spent time in the kitchen, and we actually let Mango in and had her sitting obediently away from the table. Zach left shortly after to go back to work. I got on the phone for about 45 minutes and gave Mango little pats on the head while I was in and out of the room. Then, just before taking Jacob and leaving for work, I made the bold move of putting the little dog in her cage.

The most outrageous thing I could report is that she actually found something to get to while in the cage, but I can't say that's what happened. Zach came home and let her out. I don't know how much actual attention she got from him, but it probably wasn't much before he left them alone again to get to work on the back porch (foreshadowing here).

All the while Jacob and I were still at my work. At 7:15 we left work to drive home. A couple quick stops and we were here. I met my mom at the door because she and Jamie are hanging out tonight. My mom is watching the Gilmore Girls (new episode on tv right now) with me and Jamie is doing the guy thing out on the back porch with Zach and Jacob. Marisa is here too, upstairs playing with Jacob's new wooden kitchen. I'm not necessarily happy with the clearly divided gender roles going on with the kids right now - I thought they would want to play together - but at least no one is yelling at anyone else.

Here's a play-by-play: I get home, unload Jacob and all our stuff. My mom gets to the door the same time as me and she opens it as I come falling in with all my stuff. Bags let to the floor, Jacob's coat and shoes off, my eyes are free to wander. I see pieces, pieces of something on the floor in the distance. I don't have my glasses on (see next blog for explanation) so it's hard to make it out what the damage is. My mom follows my line of regard and then my gaze meets hers. "What was it?" I mouth so as not to alert Jacob's attention until I know it's something he won't be concerned with. "I already told Zach..." she offers. I walk closer, put my hand up to my ear so she can whisper. "Hudson Valley hat," she declares.

"Get out!" I'm shouting. "You have GOT to be kidding me!" I hadn't worn a hat since the Thanksgiving incident, kind of a mourning period of sorts. But I did wear a hat today. I went to the eye doctor and couldn't have eye make up on so a hat it was. I purused my options and came up with the green Hudson Valley hat, circa 2005, only slightly broken in. This was not my first choice; I would have preferred the brown Carhaart hat that Zach wears for 'working' in, the kind of work that is happening on the back porch right now. That one is nicely broken in, and to be an appropriate adoption hat, one needs to have history. So just before leaving for work, I picked up the green hat I had worn earlier, made a sigh of resignation, and told the little hat, "I guess you'll have to do." There must have been ominous music playing somewhere in the background, because then, in a gutsy move, I placed my new hat on top of Jacob's Muck hat which was hung on the post to the changing table which now serves as a toy shelf. See the symbolism here? A parent laying his body over the child in the ultimate act of sacrifice.

The end.

More Pictures

Each of us with Mango.

He had Aquaphor all over his face...but it came out blurry.

The dig pit.

My hat.

Further Thoughts On My Theory

I still believe Mango is chewing because she is in competition with me for Zach's attention, however, it has gotten more complicated. I think she's angry that Zach has to leave the house to 'support' me and Jacob, and so is taking it out on us, his dependents. And when Jacob and I leave the house the tension only multiplies. Tension = chewing.

I wrote about what happened on Thanksgiving, but since then there have been no 'incidences'. Except for today. Jacob and I were only gone for 3 hours today. There were 3 incidences. One of them happened while we were all still home. One of them happened while we were all gone, and the last happened while we were all home again, but in the kitchen with the gate closed because dinner was being served.

What happened today, combined with what happened Thursday really sheds light on things. Thursday was my hat, remember? This was by far the worst thing she has chewed. Ever. We were all gone, but we were together. This togetherness combines the factors 'being left alone' with 'being jealous of me', thus explaining the choice of 'chew toy'. Friday, Saturday, Sunday we were all here, and the dogs got to be outside with us, getting attention from all of us, all day long. Nothing got chewed.

Today when Zach was in the shower, Mango got to the bottle of glue. This is important: He was in the shower. The first sign that he is getting ready to leave the house. When Zach came out of the bathroom she was right there with the top sticking sideways out of her mouth and glue running down from the corner, the bottle resting beneath with multiple open wounds.

While Jacob and I were away from the house today Mango got to that canvas holder-thingy that has pockets for whatever and hangs over the back of the door. It was big and in a million pieces so she probably thought it was something important, but what she doesn't know is that it came from the dollar store. No real loss there.

After Zach came home from work, he basically said hi to the dogs before coming to the kitchen and wolfing down dinner because he was eager to get started knocking down the back porch. In the middle of Jacob and Zach eating dinner I came out to the front room, where the girls are relegated during mealtime, to get something and I found Mango in the middle of a meal of her own, or in other words, a Thomas the Train book. Thank God it wasn't a library book.

See the connection?

Back to Thursday for a minute: We were gone all day long, together. Zach came home halfway through the day to walk the dogs. But then he left. To come back to me and Jacob. Mango had been teased, she thought she was actually going to have her man all to herself but it didn't last. She had to come up with the ultimate punishment. And my hat it was.

Either I'm crazy, or we have totally underestimated the understanding dogs have about human culture.

It's Finally Happening

Zach had Wednesday thru Sunday off and he actually spent it all at home, doing work here, and not painting at other peoples' homes. He's been running again in the mornings and I credit this with his increased level of energy. He really is just a happier person when he is running on a daily basis. So I'd previously been feeling bogged down with effort put out and little yielded results. I was spending most of my time at home, but still not feeling like anything was getting accomplished, like I was making any headway in this cluttered house of ours. It was really getting frustrating, and peaked on Wednesday with the mouse poop incident. I had had plans for all day Wednesday, but both things got cancelled so I ended up having the whole day to do stuff, but felt like nothing had gotten done by the time we had to leave the house (an hour late) Wednesday evening. I was just so depressed the rest of the night. And it didn't help that everyone was talking about presents for all the grandkids and holiday plans at dinner Wednesday night. I hate that this is what Christmas has become in our culture. And so the month-long retreat into myself has officially begun.

Anyway, I started to get sick on Thursday and spent the rest of the weekend like that. But really sick. The kind of sick where you have to sit down and rest every 30 minutes. But at least Zach was here getting things done. And he was being really good about letting me take my needed rest. Jacob was spending most of his time outside, seriously, 5 or 6 hours outside each day just digging and helping Zach. It was great that the temperature was 50 degrees and above because it made this possible. And I swear, Jacob's endurance for work is endless. It's astounding.

Looking back at the past 5 days now, I kind of see it as a transition period, and not so much a waste of time. I did get a lot done, because I'm just that kind of person, I can't sit still even when I should be. I got random jobs out of the way. I cleaned the fridge (a place that had been needing cleaning for a while), and the contents of pretty much all the drawers along the outside wall of the kitchen because as it turns out before Zach was able to get to the store to buy the caulk, our little friend had visited each of those places too. And there was hardly any activity on the computer, so I slowly got used to the idea of turning it off for several hours at a time. I finished watching the Gilmore Girls, and now we are fully caught up so I can eliminate that entirely from my plate. I had been having so much trouble trying to figure out how to slow down, but finally slowing down was forced on me and it became physically impossible to continue my previous pace. I'm actually feeling really great about things right now (knock on wood).

The dogs got to run around in the backyard with us for hours on end. I made nice with Mango and threw sticks for her til she was too tired to run after them. Jacob got to get all of his negative energy out by digging and has been so pleasant to be around. I dug with him when he asked, and was present enough to indulge him in each one of his fantasies. As I type this Jacob is running around, playing with Mango. It's been a long time since he's done that. Everyone around here is being so friendly with each other.

I can't believe how much Zach got done around the house this weekend. He finished up a bunch of little outdoor projects that had been waiting all summer long to be completed. He cleared off the back porch and is ready to knock it down. The dumpster came this morning; the first hard evidence that this addition is going to happen. The energy really feels like it is moving now, finally. I don't think I've felt this good about things for a long time.

How Did I Get So Lucky?

It's Monday morning, Jacob and I have been up for about an hour and after much activity I find I need to rest again. I'm still recovering from being sick all of Thanksgiving week/weekend. Actually, I'm still pretty sick. So here I am lying on the couch and Jacob comes over to me. He asks if I want him to snuggle with me. I most certainly do. So he's snuggling with me and I told him, "This is my favorite thing in the whole world." He responds by saying, "Here lets give hugs and kisses." And just when I thought it couldn't get any better he stops the hugging & kissing to rub noses with me. That's our special thing. He is so sweet lately. And so obedient. Not that I need him to be perfectly obedient all the time, but it's just nice not to have to waste energy on trying to get him to do things. I'm sure there will be tough 3 year-old times ahead, but this is a really nice interlude. I'm going to get as much of this as I can while it lasts...

We've Been Having a Little Visitor...

I can't even remember for sure what day it was that we first discovered the 'visitor', but I think it was Wednesday. It must have been Tuesday night that Zach slept on the couch because of something like Jacob being up all night...anyway, the next morning he told me that he'd heard a suspicious scritching through the night and he looked in the drawer under the over to confirm his theory. A little mouse had come to visit.

Now I know we have mice in the house. It's inevitable this time of year. And while I'm not happy about it, I tolerate the little creatures because I figure this land was their home first and it was taken from them when the house was built. So as long as they stay in their area (the attic) and I stay in mine, we can all happily coexist. However, by coming into my kitchen this mouse crossed the boundary line. I'm not so much afraid of mice themselves, I think they're cute, I've held them before, but the actual fact that one climbed all over the muffin tins, cake pans, trays, etc, possibly spreading mouse diseases threw me over the edge. It's a good thing my plans for the day were cancelled because it pretty much took the whole day to clean everything. I made Zach take care of the actual poop part and then I got started with the hot, soapy water, the bleach, emptying the dishwasher, baking the tins and trays after they'd been cleaned and sterilized again.

At the end of the day when the light was gone and Zach had done all the yard work he could, he came in and got to work moving the stove to investigate how the mouse got it. It was pretty clear right off the bat. Let's just say that this side of the kitchen is up against the scummy back porch that we are going to knock down and there are plenty of places for a mouse to get in. Infact, there was a mouse right there, demonstrating how one would get in. Zach called from the kitchen and told me it was just sitting there looking at him. I wanted to see it too, but before I could do that I had to find towels and books to stack around each opening and crack so that when Zach moved and the mouse inevitably fled, we would have it trapped and could capture it (and set free in the woods). Finally I was ready to come see the mouse, I just hoped that it hadn't run away yet. I guess we figured that it was just in shock and as long as Zach stood still it would too. Then Zach moved. And I came over. And we moved the light around. And the mouse stayed there. The mouse didn't move at all. Not a good sign. We argued for a minute as to whether it was d-e-a-d or not. So Jacob wanted to see it too. We showed him and had to make up some happy story about why the mouse was not moving.

I was thoroughly grossed out and decided to take Jacob up to bed to read so that Zach could take care of the 'dead' mouse. At least the problem was temporarily taken care of because now that Zach knew what he needed to get at the hardware store, we just had to get through Thanksgiving and wait til the stores opened back up on Friday.

About half an hour later Zach came upstairs with his hands cupped to his chest. I quickly sat up in bed and pushed myself back towards the wall as far as I could. "You did not!" I shouted at him. Then remembering who I was dealing with, I calmed down and called his bluff. Zach has tried to fool me more times than is good for him, so now I just know not to believe him. So he didn't have the mouse in his hand, and as it turns out there was no mouse to begin with. It was a little cat-toy mouse. We felt like idiots. It was the right size and shape, just not real. All that trouble we'd gone to. We don't have a cat, so that thing could have been there for years. Kind of ironic that we were looking for mouse evidence and actually found a fake mouse. Isn't that just a little weird? I wonder what that means.

Black Friday

My wall calendar in the kitchen tells me that today is 'International Buy Nothing Day'. I understand this as an alternative to Black Friday, and I think it's great. But the details person in me wants to know all the parameters of this 'day'; seriously, I am a bonafide obsessive-compulsive, and I want to make sure I'm doing it right. Like does this mean I cannot buy an actual product? Can it be a service rendered that I am paying for, or no money exchanged at all? Now what if I am bed-ridden and I send Zach out for all the requisite sick items (ice cream, medicine, orange juice), do I still win by technicality for not buying anything myself? Ordinarily if one were to just stay at home all day it would be easy to not buy anything. However, we are living in the internet age. If I 'win' something on ebay, but wait until tomorrow to follow-through with payment, have I found a loophole, or just cheated?

All this is beside the point. My point is that this is a relatively easy concept in theory, but when put in to practice it becomes harder. I became inspired by this challenge and decided to make up my own 'No Internet Day'. I'm not sure yet when I'll do this, but it will be soon. Again, this is something that seems like it would be easy, but when faced with the reality of it, fears arise? Well to start I'm going to make it easy for myself. It's going to be a day when I already plan to be away from the house for a long time. It would be too much of a temptation if I was near the computer all day. The hardest part of this I think is going to be the fact that I know I'll be missing out on all of the activity that's going on without me. With that said, I should have made today the day because NO ONE was around (meaning, on the computer) all day. I wouldn't have missed much, but hey, hindsight is 20/20. Yesterday also was a slow internet day. So I guess it would be too easy for me to say "I'll do it on Christmas!" There has to be some level of difficulty involved.

So there you have it. Some day, soon. I promise. Just not yet. And for the record, I did not buy anything today. Take that Black Friday.

Jacob's Perfect Day

Today was spent at home, all day. Jacob got to play outside, in his dig pit, for about 5 hours. And Zach was out there the whole time doing yardwork. Daddy has been home for 3 days straight, and he went out to get ice cream for us a while ago. Oh, and he's got his own little container of sprinkles (the same one from the other night when I had to fix the sprinkle-less donut) for his 'ice peam'. Now we're all here watching the Gilmore Girls.

Last season Lorelia and Rory had a big fight, so on a whim Lorelia got a dog to keep her company. In keeping with her quirky nature, she named the dog Paul Anka. Since Jacob has no reference point for things like this, he thinks it's actually a viable name for a dog. He says it as one word, like when the dog ate chocolate and had to go to the vet, "Ohhh, das sad...Pawanka was sick."

Anyway, season 6 starts out with mother and daughter still not speaking to each other. In episode 10 (the one we are watching now) they make up. Jacob goes, "I so happy they're back together!" All is right in the world...

Thanksgiving

I don't know why I usually end up writing about the seemingly adverse aspects of my life, but for the record, I am very happy and thankful for all I have. I know I have a great life and that I am very lucky. I guess I write about all the mishaps because that's the stuff I need to get out of my system - the good stuff I just want to hold onto.

For Zach and I the holiday season is one big marathon session of flitting around to different family members' houses for different gatherings. It is really tiring, and especially hard on Jacob. Each year we say we're going to stop doing it and tell people if they want to see us, they have to come to us. But this is conditional on our addition being done. And it hasn't been done yet. This year it is at least started.



Thanksgiving always starts at Zach's dad's house where his step-mother prepares a phenomenal dinner, with little German touches that make it pleasantly unique. They have cats, which Zach is allergic to, as well as horses, which Zach is throat-closing-up allergic to. We've been really nervous with Jacob around the horses, but just this year we've let him touch them because he's old enough now to at least tell us if he's having trouble breathing. Just before we left we fed the horses and then I took Jacob inside the house to wash his hands. But in the car coming back up here Jacob's eyes were running, he looked out of it and it seemed like he was having trouble breathing. I think it was just the cat dander but we stopped for some emergency Benadryl and his symptoms immediately improved. This meant that by 6:30 he was knocked out for the night. We stayed at my aunt's for quite a while after that playing Taboo and hanging out.

Back at home Zach and I decided to squeeze in some Gilmore Girls before we went to bed. All I wanted to do was sit around anyway because I wasn't feeling so hot myself. I've never had a lot of allergies but after 2 days and 3 houses with cats I thought maybe I did have an allergy to cat hair afterall. Not til I woke up much worse in the middle of the night did I realize it was just me coming down with a wicked bad head cold. At 1:30 with Zach asleep on the couch and me kind of zonked out on Benadryl too, Jacob came down the stairs (after having slept for 7 hours - a full night's sleep for me) all freaking happy. He thought it was hilarious that Zach and I were passed out on the couch. Jacob walked around for a couple minutes, reporting to me that he was 'just checking things out'. So I showed him my hat. He got all sad, "You know what? Da stores don't has dose anymore." Even if I could replace the hat it wouldn't be the same. Also, "Mommy, later, when da sun is out and it's wake-up time, can we go to da store to get apple duce?" And, having not one bite of Thanksgiving dinner at either location earlier, Jacob was now ready. "Mommy, ten (can) I have dinner?" I think I remember heating up potatoes and squash for him and kind of supervising for an hour, then I turned him over to Zach who took over for the next hour before Jacob finally went back to sleep.

There's No Use Crying Over Spilt Milk

Last Saturday when the milk delivery came Jacob rushed to the door to bring in the (glass) bottles. He helps with this every week but he is always careful and has never had an accident. Before the milk came we'd been in the kitchen, just starting to make the soup that I was taking to dinner with friends that evening. I don't know what Jacob was doing on the other side of the kitchen when he dropped the bottle of milk. He dropped it though, and it broke. Our house is slightly slanted, just enough to allow for several trails of milk to flow simultaneously toward the fridge, cupboards, under the shelves, down the basement stairs and to the other side of the kitchen. I didn't have enough towels for all the streams of milk so I headed off the ones that I thought could do the most destruction. There was broken glass everywhere.

First I had to get the dogs out of the way, and then settle Jacob in with some snacks and a video. The I surveyed the damage. I only had 3 hours left to get the soup cooked, the mess cleaned up, both me and Jacob ready for our outing. I decided I would need backup for this one. My mom and Jamie saved the day by coming over to help. Papa played with Jacob in the backyard while my mom helped with the soup and I cleaned up the milk mess. There's also a hole in the floor, next to the wall, but under the table the microwave sits on. Having decided to tackle the mess from the outside in, I didn't get to the part under the table until an hour later. Directly under the table, in the basesment, is Zach's tool bench. It just keeps getting worse, huh? I had to go down there and clear half the table off and bring that stuff upstairs to wash.

Talk about broken glass, earlier tonight I put the leftover Thanksgiving pie in the microwave for safe keeping. I usually keep the cover to a glass dish (I broke the bottom half last year) in the microwave for when we heat things that might splatter. I had set that on top of the microwave and I guess slammed the door a little too hard because the top slid right onto the ground, breaking into a bazillion pieces. This was actually the 4th time in 6 days that we had a major cleanup in the kitchen, and on the kitchen floor.

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More Pictures Added

Pumpkinfest, Keene, NH

Bob and his daddy

Mango

The Final Straw

You open the door, slowly enter the room. It's been a few days since there've been any incidences, so you forget to be worried. You're focused on getting into the house and putting the bags down, so you don't notice the scraps on the floor until you step on one. It could just be one of her toys, you think to yourself. Still in denial, but your heart beating a little faster now, you let your eyes follow the trail of remains. And there it is...



"What," you ask ""Is that?" Well I will tell you. It is my USA Running hat. The hat I adopted from Zach when we first were a couple. Seven years I've been wearing that hat and no other (except in the rare instances when I couldn't find it). It's my hat. Every guy and hat-wearing girl knows what I mean. I don't carry a purse, wear a watch, or even jewelry. It's my sole accessory. This hat has (see, I am still referring to it in the present tense) not only huge sentimental value, but also the value of practicality. It has shielded me from the world on each bad hair day/no-time-for-makeup day that I have had in my adult life. And now it is shattered, in a million pieces.

When do I think this happened? Oh, well, I suppose it was about the time we were at Thanksgiving location #2 and I said aloud the words, "Actually, it's probably been 4 days since she's chewed anything really bad." They were alone for 4 hours while we did round 1, then Zach came home to take the girls for a walk before meeting Jacob and I for round 2 at my aunt's. Another 4 hours alone and Mango must have been like "Thanksgiving this, be-och!"

I'm still trying to reconstruct the scene, however painful it may be. But here's what I'm thinking: The long, interlocking thing that has been serving as a gate was placed between the 2 foot-high Little Tykes slide and the 36" X 21" vanity cabinet for the new bathroom (still in the box - a fixture of our living room for 2 months now) on one end, between the desk and couch on the other end. Being 3 feet high, I consider the top of the box to the vanity cabinet a 'safe place'. My mistake. I think that's where my hat was left? It's the only reasonable thing I can figure right now. Normally that would be a safe place, but apparently not when there is a 2 foot high slide next to it. There is always a flaw in my plan.

Anyway, I don't know what this is the final straw to...I need some time to calm down here and the answer will come to me I guess. In the meantime, anybody want a dog?

Gymnastics Drop-Out

Zach and I have long agreed that gymnasts are some of the strongest athletes in the world. And so it was a mutual decision to enroll Jacob in gymnastics. We're both big jocks so it goes without saying that our kids will be athletes too. We're not going to be pushy about it, whatever sport, or preferably, sports, they want to play is cool with us. I wouldn't be too happy about football, but with Jacob's size and all, that's probably not going to be an option. Zach would rather Jacob not be a runner, kind of the same way actors don't want their kids getting into the business, but I think it's too late for that. This kid is quick.

In the spring I started taking Jacob to the same gymnastics place that I went to as a kid. It was a 2 year-old parent & tot class, which worked well for us because Jakie is a little shy and slow-to-warm-up. He loved it though. He was so good at everything, I hesitate to say the best kid there because that would just be too 'hockey dad' of me, but you get the idea.


After that session was over the gymnastics people suggested we move Jacob up to the 3 year-old class. When that class started it was a surprise to me that I would not be right there with Jacob; parents sat off to the side just watching. This is hard for me to do because the child in me wants to bounce around on all the equipment too. It made sense though, I just hadn't been prepared. Which also means that I never prepared Jacob for that fact either. It was the first time as his mother that I have had to stand back and watch while someone else took control of his learning. I didn't think he was going to be ok with being on his own just like that, but he surprisingly took well to it. Even though he was with bigger kids, he was still holding his own among them pretty well. And this is what we continued doing all summer. Jacob loved going to gymnastics and I was beyond thrilled.

When the fall class started up it had been a few weeks since we had been there and something was different about it for Jacob. I never knew if he was going to join right in, or cling to me the whole time. Maybe something in the middle; have me go out to the floor with him and sit there for half the class before he felt fully ready to participate.

Zach started coming to class sometimes because we thought that would help. It did help, but he couldn't come every week because of work. Jacob was excited about gymnastics all week long. He would practice all the moves and talk about it. But then when Tuesday mornings came around, Jacob didn't want to go anymore. It was getting to the point where I was so frustrated that one morning I bribed Jacob to go to gymnastics. I'm not above bribery in other situations, but when it comes to sports I want Jacob to experience the intrinsic rewards that go with doing well, not at trip to the train store. And I don't ever want to get mad at him for not liking it or not doing well, or be pushy in any way, or encourage an unnatural level of competition (hockey dad).

At one point one of the gymnastics people approached me about putting Jacob back into the 2 year-old class. No way was I going to do that, but her asking me that made me think that Jacob was becoming a problem for them. So we had no idea where to go from there. I think we ended up skipping a week or two. And then I guess things just started to get better? Jacob had started swimming lessons by then, and he was doing so well with that. Way more into it than we thought he would be. He was also still in the on-and-off music class that he's been in since he was a baby. I'm also not the type who thinks that my kid needs to be in all these activities. These things just kept falling into our laps. And I figured that if Jacob's not going to be in pre-school he would need some kind of activity (other than our playgroups) that is organized and routine.

So last week was the start of a new gymnastics session. Jacob didn't want to go when he woke up in the morning. I told him we had to at least go and say hi, which is the line I use for everything. By the time we get there and he sees all that's happening, he'll most likely forget that he didn't want to go. But here is the catch: If he decides he still wants to leave, I have to follow through. Maybe we'll compromise and stay just long enough to get something out of it, but if I told him that we can leave, then I can't turn that promise into a lie. This is a big part of my 'mutual repsect' philosophy.

Jacob didn't want to stay. We hadn't paid yet, so what was I going to do, force him to stay and watch while the money went down the toilet? At 3 years-old I don't think I need to worry that I'm teaching him to be a quitter. We simply went in and told them we wouldn't be coming back for this session. I told Beth that we would try again in January. That's what I plan to do.

I guess this was my first big test as a sports parent. Can I stick to my guns in terms of my 'values' when forced to make a decision that involves Jacob's wants and my wants being polar opposites? I just hope our wishes align come January...

You'll all be so proud of me!

I taught myself how to put pictures on this thing. I feel like Jacob, "I did it all by myself!" For real. No one helped me. At all. So go see: Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit; Birthday Weekend; The 'So Stinkin' Cute' Blog; This Rollercoaster Called Motherhood...maybe more to come...
Oh, and I fixed the link on the milk cap post - did that on my own too!


By request, links to the above-mentioned posts:

here
and here
this too
go here
lastly

The Long-Awaited Season 6!

Zach and I just sat down to watch season 6 of the Gilmore Girls! We just got back from the library where it was finally up for grabs. There's only two copies of it in the entire 29 library system, and since season 6 is the most recent on dvd I guess it's popular because I haven't been able to get my hands on it, until now.

Our Gilmore Girls obsession began months ago when, I don't know, I must have been looking up Alexis Bledel on one of my favorite websites, imdb.com. I'd known of the show and maybe watched it a few times, but I hadn't had more than a passing interest in it. I guess my list of movies to get had run dry so I borrowed the dvd and it was love at first sight...

You only have so many days to watch the entire season and then you either have to return it or start paying a hefty per-day late fee. So I started staying up late to watch it, and then really late because I liked the show so much I found I couldn't turn it off - to do that would be like pulling my life line. Then I started taking my laptop to bed to watch it there...I would doze off, and wake up, rewind it...Zach would yell from the other side of the bed, "Would you just turn it off already!" He just didn't understand.

Then I made him watch one day...

...And from then on I had someone to share the Gilmore Girls with. But Zach got busy doing a lot of side jobs (interior house painting) and some nights he wasn't around. I couldn't wait, so I just started watching it by myself again, except that now Jacob was hooked. I know this sounds bad, but honestly, this show is more wholesome than most Disney movies. There's hardly any swearing or violence, and it's just a really cute show; quippy, fast-paced, loaded with pop-culture references which makes you feel smart when you get them.

The weeks went by and all moments of the day became either time spent watching Gilmore Girls, or not watching Gilmore Girls. When Jacob asked for a video, it was usually the Gilmore Girls. "Dilmore Dirls," he says.

And then we got to the end of season 5.

I'd been checking the library website everyday for season 6, but it was always checked out so I decided to let it go for a while. I think I got over it after a couple weeks, but Jacob has still been talking about the show. He'd tell anyone who asked that "Mommy is trying to get season 6." Sometimes he just refers to the show as 'Lorelia' (the lead character), or he sees pictures in a magazine and says, "That looks like Lorelia." We've been catching the current episodes as they air on Tuesday nights, but it's really not the same experience for us (commercials, no instant-replay option, only one episode at a time), plus going out of order in the seasons is weird, so we end up finding other things to do and missing half of the show.

Anyway, here we are watching season 6. Jacob fell asleep in the car on the way to the library; he will be so pleased in the morning to find out about our recent acquisition. Before the library we stopped at Dunkin Donuts to get Jacob a little treat, a 'finkles donut', that's sprinkles, incase you couldn't figure it out. It was just after 8, apparently the time that the one near our house closes. I was surprised to find that out. I'm not complaining - just surprised - because how long do we really need the donut shop to stay open til? We said we'd stop at the next D & D to see if they were open. Jacob fell asleep before we even got there. But you know he's going to wake up in the morning (please God in the morning and not the middle of the night) asking after his donut. So we stopped anyway (this one was open til midnight) and got a donut, but they were out of sprinkle ones. Luckily I had to go to my mom's to drop off a different season of the Gilmore Girls that I got for she and Jamie at the library, as I've gotten them hooked too. At my mom's I picked up a little bottle of sprinkles so I can do some 'doctoring' to the plain, glazed donut in the morning.

It was just a donut kind of day, I guess. After last night I think we all deserve a treat for getting through it alive. Jacob was up many more times after I wrote about the night terrors. It seems his legs hurt too? His legs hurting used to wake him up all the time, but I thought that ended a few months ago so I never ended up mentioning it to the doctor when we were there a couple weeks ago. I'd read about a syndrome or something and was going to ask him about it, but then it really didn't seem like an issue anymore. Zach tends to think it's growing pains. I don't know anything about that because at 5' 1" I guess I never really experienced enough growing to have pains about it. But my husband, at 6'2", vividly recalls the memories.

So after a restless night, I got up to get the house ready for dear Evy's arrival. It doesn't matter that Jacob and I were so tired, because we just love Evy so much. After our long day together, with Evy just out the door, Jacob kind of mumbled half to himself, half proclaiming his feelings to the world, "I weally wike Evy..." *heart swelling*

A few hours later, with bedtime (quite an elusive term to us, and I use it very loosely) fast approaching - I just mean he was getting really tired (cranky) - Jacob was upstairs, but well within my earshot, trying to convince Zach he had not yet watched a video (liar). "I swear to God I really want to watch a video..." he whined. Yeah, we know you want it that badly. I think he just meant "I want to watch a video so badly that I am willing to lie to you so here's it goes, I swear to God I didn't watch one yet." Or something like that...he was just so tired that he didn't know what he was saying, so we credited him with 'cuteness' points and popped in something mellow to wind down with.

Some other highlights from the day: A playgroup at a friend's house where Jacob learned a cute turkey song. Then someone pointed out a (fake) turkey on the front lawn of the neighbor's yard and he came running across the room, leaping into my arms for safety. Hehe...anything new and different he is afraid of. So when we got home, with Evy fast asleep upstairs, Jacob and I sat down for some computer time and we learned all about turkeys. That was perfect to write about in my new unschooling notebook. Just yesterday I started 'documenting' his 'learning' for our great, untraversed homeschooling experience. I hoping with this as proof, friends and family (and Zach) will start taking my endeavor seriously. I am wicked excited about it! Just think, anything you want to learn, you can just go ahead and read about it when the urge strikes. Jakie asked today where hockey pucks come from. "I don't know," I said, "but I know how we can find out." And just like that we had a neat little web page right there, telling us everything we wanted to know. Did you know that the first puck was created when someone in Canada got pissed about his window being broken, so he took the ball the players had been using and chopped off the top and bottom of it before giving it back to them? You tell me in what school they teach you stuff like that...

Yeah, ok, that's enough for tonight. Sorry that these are becoming so long. I'm working on condensing my thoughts...just haven't figured out how to do that yet.

The Yogurt Fight and a Bonus Story

When I got home from work Thursday night Jacob was already asleep so Zach and I had some time for real communication. Turns out, by his request, that most of Jacob's dinner consisted of yogurt, which is ok once a week or so. Even though I got the full report on the night, Zach left out the part where they finished the container of yogurt.

Some background info: Yogurt is far and away Jacob's favorite food. When I was a Walmart shopper, yogurt was my prime reason for going there. Seriously. I buy (at least I did) the big Yoplait containers for $2. Each big container would only last 2-3 days in this house. They come in strawberry, peach and strawberry-banana. No place else carries the big Yoplaits. After I stopped going to Walmart I would make friends and family stock up on yogurt when they went to Walmart and I'd pay them back - hey, at least I wasn't physically going there. Eventually Hannaford started carrying Columbo in the big containers and so that's what we get now. But I only get one or two at a time because my heart is just not in it, what with there only being the standard strawberry flavor. I guess I'm just holding out for the day they start to carry Yoplait, and when that day comes I don't want to be stuck with 4 containers of crappy Columbo. If you're wondering what to get the Zach/Jacob/Stacey family for Christmas...boy do we miss the peach flavor...

Cut to crack-of-dawn early on Friday morning...Jacob wakes up and wants - you guessed it, yogurt. On 1 out of 2 nights Jacob wakes up and wants to eat yogurt. I have to admit, it's the perfect middle-of-the-night food; creamy, slippery going down, yet not too heavy - and I'm happy that it's got protein and calcium, nevermind all the sugar. We don't know what to do. If we refuse, Jacob's just going to cry for a long time, then want to get up and play, and besides, he's hungry, it would be mean to deny him. I understand this is breaking a vital rule, but at least he goes back to sleep after that. Anyway, it's just enough hours past midnight where the yogurt could be considered breakfast and I'm so glad that I don't have to feel guilty about giving it to him that I don't even bother to fight with Zach about who's going to get it.

A complete inventory of the fridge is taken and no yogurt is to be found. "Zach, where did you put the yogurt last night when you were done with it?" I call up, even though I already know the answer. Silence. Finally, "We finished it." Hello?? I don't think we've ever not had yogurt in the house. Jacob eats it like 3 times a day, it's inconcievable to not have yogurt. I start yelling about Zach not telling me the night before (and I know you're thinking that it wouldn't have mattered anyway, but it would have because after I got home from work Zach tried to convince me to go to the store to get ice cream - had I known we were out of yogurt, I definitely would have gone), he does the defensive guy thing and instead of apologizing, gets all pissy and to make a point, gets out of bed and starts dressing to go to the store - at 5 in the morning. Oh, and all this time Jacob is sitting up in bed flipping out because he wants yogurt. "You can't go to the store now," I argue, "you'll be rewarding him for acting like this." Zach doesn't think so. "OK, then you'll just be spoiling him. If you go to the store now, for this, what happens next time he wants something and we don't have it? He's going to expect you to drop what you're doing and go to the store then too." I win this time, but no one's going back to sleep now.

Zach leaves to take the dogs for the world's longest walk, while I'm here with a very much awake 3 year-old. Zach got most of a full-night's sleep already because he goes to bed several hours before me, but I'm working on about 3 hours of sleep here. Jacob is willing to settle for Cheerios. No, he doesn't want milk. I bring a bowl of dry Cheerios up to bed and stick a Kipper video from the library in our 'floater' TV (this is the one that has an attached VHS slot, only plays videos and doesn't actually get any channels) temporarily residing on one of the dressers. It's still there from that time Zach had the big headache and I left Jacob at home with him while I did a few quick errands. I get back into bed. Jacob changes his mind about the milk. No way am I getting back out of bed because we have already babied him enough for the rest of the week. To my utter shock, Jacob actually settles for the 50/50 water/apple juice mixture next to the bed in a sippy cup, left over from the 3am thirsting. Liquid poured over cereal and tantrum avoided.

The bonus story: For over a week now Zach's debit card has been missing. We each have our own checking accounts, and then we have the joint one, but I'm really the only one who uses it. So it didn't much matter when Zach discovered last week that his card to the joint account was missing. We had been in Target together, and my wallet was in the car so he handed me his card and then went off to look at something while Jacob and I checked out. A couple days later is when he discovered it missing. We all searched everywhere and everything. Target didn't have it, Zach and I couldn't remember which one of had it in possession last - I swore I gave it back to him, he didn't remember getting it back. I called the bank a couple times during the week to make sure there were no other charges on it. I knew it was somewhere in the house.

All week long I kept telling everyone that I didn't want to cancel it because I knew it would show up. I, in fact, said the words, "I know as soon as I cancel it, it is going to show up." On Thursday night I broke down and called just before they closed at 9 to block the card. On Friday morning I was getting something off the top of the entertainment center, so I quickly picked up the kleenex box to move it out of the way - and there, right under the box layed the irreversibly blocked debit card. But I had to make the call to cancel it anyway, because everyone knows the Irony Gods were just waiting to put that card in the most obvious place until after it was rendered useless.

The Terror

It comes at night, most nights now, yet we're still in the beginning of it so that when it does happen we are surprised and it takes a few minutes for us to realize what's going on with Jacob. But he is at that age where I read night terrors begin. It's usually an hour or so after Jacob has finally fallen asleep that he starts crying. A really horrible cry and he sits up, or tries to crawl away, and just keeps his eyes shut, like he's trying to escape whatever reality he is living at that moment, and if only he knew how to pull himself out it would be ok.

I go to him, wrapping my arms around his slender body in whatever way I can, saying soothing things, humming and rocking. It's all I can do because whatever is happening in his dream world that I'm not privy to is beyond my control. Finally, the shuddering breaths slow, the tears begin to dry, and just when I think it's over, another wave hits.

I don't like that I can't go to this place to protect him, it scares me that I can't take away the fear. I feel like the mom in Poltergeist; Carol Anne's been sucked into the closet and I'm there fighting a hopeless fight to get the door open.

When it appears all is well and calm, I begin the long process out of bed and back into whatever I was doing before the night world surfaced in our bedroom. Gently, I lift the heavy limbs that have wrapped themselves around my body. I remove the hand that found its way into my shirt pocket. One-by-one I untwine the fingers that have been woven into my hair. I place a hand on his chest and slowly slide my right arm out from under the limp body. I take my time raising my left hand, as this is the last thing connecting us and I don't want to create a breeze. Then I begin the controlled roll to the floor and at last I am free.

Funding For Jacob's College Tuition

So I was just looking up the farm where we get our milk delivered from because I want to pass the number along to someone. In my search I came across this:



A picture speaks a thousand words, but incase the page is expired by the time you are reading this, it's a milk cap. That's all. Nothing 'vintage' about it. And it's from the farm where we get our milk! Starting bid: $.99. And a dollar for shipping, so I'd be making a buck fifty. Not a whole lot, but when you consider that we get sometimes 4 milks a week...that's a pretty good amount of money in exchange for NOTHING. It's a milk cap, and it's just a flimsy little plastic thing that usually rips on me the first time I open the milk.

I challenge you to find something as ridiculous on ebay. Send me a link.

If only there were 25 hours in the day...

AKA The Longest Blog Ever/The Blog That Actually Took 25 Hours to Write (So sorry)

25 hour day. Right. That's what I was thinking earlier today (Friday) when I first started forming this in my head. Now it is nearing 1am and I am just sitting down to write, with still a few things left on my to-do list. But I did enough for the night that I can be here with a clear head. So 25 hours is still feeling pretty scant to do all the things on my list.

I'm in the basement, by the way, sitting with the bunnies. This is where they live. I hope that doesn't sound harsh, but they get the run of the basement and believe me, the setup they have is pretty sweet. They are, nonetheless, starved for attention. It is pretty much my duty alone to give them attention. Zach gives the dogs attention. We both care for all the animals, but as for who is going to sit down with which species, that was sort of decided without discussion. It just happened this way. Jacob is helping with the rabbits a lot these days. He loves to sweep up the poopies, give them pellets, and recently has started taking pleasure in 'giving them good attention', as he likes to say.

And so every time I come to the basement to do laundry or distribute hay/pellets/sticks/greens, one or more rabbits scamper toward me for as much love as I am willing to dish out. I am down here at least half a dozen times a day, and each time the guilt stabs at me like a dagger. The dogs do this too. Merely walking into the room causes their tails to start flip-flopping, and they lift their hopeful heads to recieve the single pat that is my continual promise for a better tomorrow; a tomorrow that marks the optimistic hope for more time. The love flows from me, never ceasing, but it is time with which to give it that I am lacking. There is never enough time and there is always someone who needs attending to.

Now it's Saturday, a day later and I just want to get this posted. I prefer to write about things when I am still living the reality of them, so I'm just going to get this all out so I can move on to today, because today is a doozy.

On Thursday I swore I was going to work out, yet I spent the last 3 hours before I had to go to work rearranging the house so that Mango can't get to anything else important. The Vonnegut book was the last straw. Jacob was all into it and I just kept telling myself I would do one more thing and then be ready to work out. Eventually I realized I was not going to work out (which just means the elliptical machine we bought with wedding money a year ago, and maybe some free weights - on Sundays I go to the real gym, if I'm lucky). So I thought I would at least get to shower...and then 10 minutes later it turned into a shower, but no shampooing. And in the end it was just me washing my face, putting on a bandana to cover my messy hair, and finally changing out of the clothes I slept in. To my credit, I do a pretty good job of appearing clean, but I sure sound like a scum bag, don't I?

Work was work and then I came home, still swearing I was going to work out. It never happened. Jacob was already asleep so Zach and I watched The Office, one of 3 shows we still keep up with.

Friday was a new day, full of possibility to catch up on my to-do list. It took Jacob and I 2 hours to get out of the house. The only reason it didn't take 3 hours is because I decided the rearranging I did the day before was not good enough and that maybe I should just bring Mango with me so that she didn't even get the chance to tear apart the house which saved us an hour of cleaning up. I had a plan, but it went to hell at the end the driveway with Jacob telling me he really, really wanted to see Daddy. I was heading to the grocery store to pick up stuff to make Zach a lunch, but I figured that by the time I was done with that and all my other errands it would be dinner time. So instead I just took a right out of the driveway to indulge Jacob's wish (well first I backed up and ran back into the house to get the shoppng list) and headed to the deli place down the road. I got a subb for Zach and something for Jacob and then we headed to Daddy's work to find him. It was very crowded with the load-in for a big show going on this weekend, so Zach met us in the way back, outside his building and we found a picnic table near the stadium to settle down on.

After lunch, and a million stops along the way to the car because Mango kept finding more people who wanted to give her attention (but none of them wanted to take her home with them), Jacob and I headed away from the college and began the 'day of errands'...and 5 minutes later Jacob was asleep. A quick detour to my mom's house took care of that problem. I dropped Jacob off and traded him for Marisa. Marisa is my 4 year-old niece who spent a year being baby-sat by me two days a week. A year that ended in a really bad scene in CVS waiting in line to pick up pictures just before last Christmas. Highlights from which follow:

~ Marisa running away multiple times, out of sight, causing me to lose my place in line. Then laughing away, "Stacey, I got away from you, haha, come get me."

~ Back at the car, me shoving her wriggling body into the carseat, screaming at her then 3 year-old self for knocking all of the candy off the shelves.

~ Me in the front seat, with both children strapped up and safe from harm, as I took a quick glance at the photos, realizing they made copies of the wrong ones. It was vitally important as part of someone's Christmas gift.

~ All 3 of us, hand in hand, insanely going back in because I no longer cared what kind of mother I came off as. Then the looks of the people who had been so glad to see us go, their faces now blasting me, "Are you crazy, get those kids home!" Yet not one of them took pity on me and gave up their place in line.

~ The van screeching into the parking lot at my sister's work to hand off the demon child because I had a very real fear that I was going to do something abusive to her.

And that was the end of watching Marisa. I had to be done, for my sanity, for Jacob because he was getting this angry, frustrated mother. I realize I sound like a really bad mother, but I am not. I know I am a good mother. If there is anything that I do well, it is this. I am honest, loving, respectful, compassionate toward Jacob. I never pass up an opportunity to tell him I love him, that he is great, to give him a hug. When I do get mad I explain myself and apologize. I am careful and thoughtful with my actions concerning him. But everyone has their worst moments.

Marisa is a very different child than Jacob. She is just like her mother. Her energy is endless. And when she is tired, nature works in the opposite direction. She becomes a chaotic expolsion of intensity. The talking does not end with her, and it goes in 14 different directions at once. My mother says she is just like I was, and in fact, she is more likely to call Marisa my name by mistake than my sister's. Maybe this is why Marisa and I butt heads so much; we're so alike. There was a little girl, with a little curl. And when she was good, she was very good. But when she was bad, she was very bad...

I had forgotten what it was like to have Marisa in the car, and in the first 5 minutes of our trip yesterday I almost crashed twice because I was so distracted by the fireball of energy in the backseat. Her limbs were darting around, trying to grasp at anything they could get their hands on to provide momentary relief. The talking did not stop; it was about everything and nothing at once. When Jacob's in the car he happily ammuses himself with the sights going by, and the talking is usually pretty constant, but it's an actual conversation we're having.

Being in public with her was a humbling experience, to say the least. I've been in public with her before, but Jacob is usually there too so they have each other to be occupied with, or they are crazy, but since there's two of them I get looks of empathy, rather than hatred for pulling the arm of a suddenly limp body.

After a couple productive hours back at my mom's it was time to go. I got the car all packed up then went back in for Jacob, Mango and the very new, full size, hard cover Maisy book I had just gotten from the library while out with Marisa. There was a great deal of difficulty involved getting all of us into the car so at one point I had to set the book on top of the car. Jacob in, Mango in, oh there's mom, turn, give her a hug...am I forgetting something? Not until I took the right turn off of my mom's street onto a main road and heard a familiar sliding was I suspicious. It took me about 5 seconds to identify the noise and by then my only option was to continue forward, turn around on the next street and make it back to the scene of the accident. I found poor Maisy in a nearby driveway which means she must have been run over pretty hard to be sent traveling that far. I think I can get away without having to replace the book, but I just feel awful because it was so new and so nice and now there's going to be a lot of messy repair involved.

We stopped home to deposit Mango, take care of the other 4 creatures and grab some quick dinner before heading out for round 2 of the errands. After most of them were completed we visited Daddy at work again because when there are big events going on sometimes the only way we get to see him is if we go there.

At home again Jacob was helping me put away the groceries that we finally got around to purchasing at 8pm. He was standing in the fridge when I heard him say, "Uh-oh, I forgot to go pee-pee!" That's right another cleanup. We do things so gradual around here that I'll never be to the point where I say, "Jacob is potty-trained." It's just a long, slow learing process and I am happy to let him take the time he needs. Things like that, weaning, sleeping through the night...you just wake up one day to realize it's happened but you can't identify exactly when. So Jacob's been using the 'little potty' probably since he was 18 months old because it was just there. And over time the percentage of diapers decreased and the potty cleanings increased to the point that for 5 days in a row now Jacob has worn underwear (not uncommon) out of the house (uncommon)...with no accidents, until last night. And then again while he was caught up with the imaginary play in the backyard this afternoon. He didn't even mention that it happened. I have no idea how long he was out in the cold with completely soaked overalls. I also have to talk here about the other day at my mom's when Jacob came out of the bathroom to bring my attention to the 'product' in the toilet. He's gone #2 on the toilet before, but I'm always made aware of it before it happens by the fast scamper to the bathroom, "Hurry, hurry, I has to doe poopy!" This time he brought himself to the bathroom, took care of business, even wiped up, but saved the flush for me, then came out to share the good news. I was jubulant! I was so proud of him. And all you non-parents are thinking "gross" but you just wait. It was weird, but part of me was a little sad that I hadn't been there to experience that bit of growing up.

So while I was cleaning out the urine-flooded fridge last night, Jacob kind of half laughed, "I tought you were doe-ing to be maaad." I turned, and as I embraced him I explained, "I would never be mad for something like this. I know it was a mistake, and you try very hard to use the toilet when you don't have a diaper on." The thing is, I get mad at the little annoyances after they've happened so many times it gets to be like fingernails on a chalkboard, but the big things I totally keep my cool about. For instance, the milk this afternoon. You can read about that in the next post because this one is FAR too long already. It makes me sad that Jacob thought I would be mad. Does he think my default emotion is anger? I really need to examine my temper because he said it the other day too, when his aim was off at the toilet. I've never given him any reason to believe that I would get mad at something that was a mistake.

I was going to put so much more in here, but I have exceeded a reasonable amount of writing for a silly blog. See disclaimer/subtitle at the top.

Conclusion: There simply is not enough time in the day to cover everything in this life I have created. There's always something that gets left undone; working out, sleep, that last errand, a completely clean house. I actually really like to clean. If I had my way, a great portion of the day would be devoted to it. Heck, if I got to choose how my day was spent, this is what it would look like:

8 hours sleeping
4 hours of quality time with Jacob/family time
4 hours writing/corresponding via e-mailvisiting friends
3 hours cleaning/organizing/decluttering/other housework
2 hours reading
1 hour with the rabbits
1 hour exercising
1 hour cooking/baking
1 hour of television/movies

= 25 hours -- wouldn't it be perfect?

This Rollercoaster Ride Called Motherhood

Earlier today I was going to write about how I was having a crappy day, but I realized that while I'm striving for honesty here, I don't want this blog to become my personal sounding board. I only want to write about the things that I think are interesting, funny, might personally serve someone out there is some way, or are insightful in a way that I'll want to remember.

On any given day I go through so many different emotions; ups and downs that would make your head spin. I wake up thinking it's going to be one kind of day, that I've got it all together, but by the time breakfast is over, things are not looking good. Then when I think I can't take the day anymore, it changes again, something gives me a little perspective. And then again before the day is over, I am in tears. There's a lot of back and forth involved in this life of mine. So much of my time and energy is devoted to making plans, changing plans, breaking plans. It seems like only 25% of this planning actually yields any sort of activity. I can't decide where I stand in the world, or what I should be doing with my life. I should be working more, putting money away...no, I should be savoring this time in my life, when Jacob is young, I shouldn't be away from him. I'm fat and ugly...no I'm not, I'm ok. I should go to bed already and get some sleep...or maybe I will sleep better if the house is cleaned first.

And how about the packing and unpacking? Every time I go out the door it's like we're leaving for a week long vacation. When we get back home I have to decide what to bring back into the house, and what of it I'll just be carrying back out to the car again later when we have somewhere else to be. So I usually just carry it back and forth all day long, and hardly ever use any of it. But you know that the one day I leave that extra change of clothes at home, it will also be the day that Jacob pees in his pants. This is what I'm getting at with the 'Murphy's Law'. Everyday of my life is like this. Instead of following a straight line to take the quickest route to a destination, I make the most wrong turns possible along the way.

Now yesterday was a great day. I got to get away just a bit - travel to Brattleboro and really be present in the world. I saw a friend at a little coffee shop and really just absorbed the energy of one of my favorite places. It seemed like I was really getting the hang of this life. I was only 10 minutes late for my appointment, which everyone knows is excusable when you have a child in tow, so really, it was almost like I was on time! Actually, I have recently discovered the secret to being on time. For the record, I have always been a late person. It is not within my ability to be on time. However, there is a loophole: If you are so overscheduled that on your way to any given obligation or errand, you realize you are just far too late to even go at all, you can then make the difficult decision to skip it altogether. Then, without hesitation, head straight to your next thing on the list. You might even get there early! So even though you are technically a big mess of chaos, you appear to your friends and colleagues as a very responsible person.

So it seems days like yesterday are always followed by days like today. They just can't get much better, and so really, why bother trying? Why not just spend the day in a depressed funk? Could be the time of year, could be coming down from the high of the universe aligning to give you the perfect day, could be one...little... thing... after...another. I went to a meeting of my moms' group in the same pants I slept in last night. I didn't brush my hair - still haven't...and I can't even remember if I took a shower today. I've been trying to take it slow and get caught up on stuff at home (which basically adds up to me spending all my free time writing this blog), so Jacob and I have not been meeting up with our moms' group friends and I just felt out of the loop today...and it was a little sad. This was just the beginning...

I've been trying to slow down, do less, but after having a steady level of momentum for so long, I can't figure out how to be in the middle. My body either wants to mimic the Tazmanian Devil, or to just stop altogether. For so long I was adding to my plate that things just kept getting more compact. Now that I'm taking some stuff out of the mix, you would think that it would get easier, right? But it appears that the remaining elements are simply taking a deep breath, fully inflating back to their original size . I am doing less, but it is still taking just as much out of me, taking just as much time, almost harder though because there's more elbow room. And with more room to shift things, options avail themselves. When you have the luxury of making a decision, you get stuck and you've had a taste of what it feels like to sit down for a change, and you just don't want to get back up. Know what I mean?

Little tip here: If you're a stress eater, go for dried papaya. The real stuff, not that overprocessed sugary crap. It's so tough, you've really gotta bear down and bite that sucker.

Anyway, you all know the anatomy of the proverbial bad day. I don't have to get into the specifics. All I need to say is that motherhood is rough. There are good days, there are bad days, and when you wake up in the morning/afternoon/middle of the night, you never know which kind it's going to be. So if you're out there, and you're the mother of young kids and you had a bad day, know this: You are not alone.

Battle of The Monkey House

Could it just be that she's a puppy and I am simply anthropomorphizing her behavior? I just don't know. But I do know that Zach called me at lunch time, he was home, I was not. From the tone of his first word I knew what he was calling about. "What did she chew?" I asked before he even had a chance to finish his first sentence.

I'm sorry, I don't know if you guys are getting sick of hearing about the puppy, but I've got to get this stuff down somewhere so when it is all over I can take an inventory and have a good laugh about it. For that matter, I don't know if 'you guys' even exist because no one is leaving me comments...

Let me give you a little background about the item of the day. I belong to bookcrossing: It's an online thing for book lovers, and part of it involves the trading of books, and something called bookrings. A bookring starts with the owner of the book who lets it be known that they are starting said bookring and then other members can sign up to be in a bookring (if there are any bookcrossers reading this I hope I'm explaining it ok). So this particular bookring started a year ago (which is when I signed up) and the little book, Kurt Vonnegut's Welcome to the Monkey House, has been traveling all around the world for that long. So someone in Portugal sent it to me. It arrived on Tuesday. 2 days in my house and it's confetti.

That's the gist of the story. I left it on one of the 'safe' spots in the house. I guess it was such a good looking eat that Mango was motivated enough to find a way to the top of the table. The table is now being added to the list of hot spots. I have to go find homes for all of the items left on this table, and then head over to bookcrossing to confess. Of course I will replace the book.

Tally
Mango: Score 1
Me: -$10 for a new book

http://www.bookcrossing.com/mybookshelf/xmas

Now It's War

I just walked out back to let Mango in. She was standing at the basement window thirsting over the bunnies who are still out of their cages, running around. She came pouncing in, all fired up to hunt some game, and got her mother all riled up as well. How do they communicate this? I must have read at some point, with all my animal behavior classes...how do dogs communicate with each other? Is it something as simple as intuition? Someone must have done a study...

So anyway, in the last hour I have removed the following from the mouth of the little dog: A sheet of stickers, a cloth diaper, an entire roll of toilet paper, and a book. She spent a good ten minutes barking at that damn mylar balloon again. It's been here 4 days now - add to that list a magnet - and she still thinks it's a demon. Only at night though. So with the balloon safely put in the shower (score double points if it scares the hell out of Zach in the morning), Mango looked to her reflection in the window for entertainment...

I am beginning to see a pattern and perhaps the root cause of all this? I've pointed out before that it's 75% Jakie's toys or other belongings of his that get chewed, but I'm still feeling the act of destruction targeted at me. Zach came home yesterday in between rounds 1 and 2 of the headphones drama. Not wanting to give away her plan for the headphones, she simply collected the largest remaining piece of the postcard and 'presented' it to him as he walked in the door.

I think Mango is in love with my husband. I think she is trying to intimidate me. "See what I did to that there box? You're next," she's trying to say to me. She wants me out of the picture.

I'm trying to trace it back here. It would have been helpful if I was writing about the dogs back in the summer, because on Labor Day weekend Jacob and I went up to camp with my mom and Jamie (Grandma and Papa), leaving Zach behind (important detail here: This is the weekend we left Zach alone in the house so he could begin and complete the bathroom renovation) and came home to find our bed had been taken over by a little mutt of a dog. So we kicked her out. Could the chewing have started way back then?

Ahh, who knows...but someday she's bound to catch on to the taboo surrounding interspecific relations. In the meantime, I say, "It's on, Little Dog."

Update on the chewing front...

Well the dogs must have been for quite a long walk with Zach this morning because they pretty much stayed curled up on their couch all day. Maybe it was the rain...

I'm happy to report that when Jacob and I got home this afternoon nothing was chewed. But it didn't stay that way for long. Under my watch she chewed 2 nice black & white postcards I was going to use soon (sorry Jenn). See, this was a silent form of destruction, postcard paper doesn't make a lot of noise while being chewed.

The way she got to the postcards is like a slap the face because she used the couch that we recently gifted them to get to the credenza that runs the length of the wall in the dining room. I tiredly put the shredded postcard back, but never thought to move the couch away from the credenza.

Later, when I was upstairs laying with a slow-to-wake 3 year-old, I heard a suspicious noise below. My instinct told me to get up and remove whatever it was from the grips of Mango's jaw, but the bed was cozy and Jacob was all snuggled in my arms and I just couldn't risk losing that spot in the bed to save the then unknown object.

Coming downstairs a little while after, I saw the evidence right in plain sight on the carpet. The floors are all hardwood, and we just have a small area rug in one spot. And right there in the middle is where she always leaves the product of her destruction. She didn't wreck the headphones, she just bit off the foam ear pieces and as far as I can tell, ate them. So I put them back, again not moving the couch. And then Zach came home. All which is good and holy in Mango's eyes. I don't know how it happened with us all right nearby, but she went back for the headphones and this time proceeded to tear the living daylights out of those suckers. This is how I know she's showing off, she's trying to earn her dominant place in the family. Well two can play that game...

Some Other Bits of Mom Wisdom

To be added to as I think of them...

1) Timing is everything.

2) Be nice to ______ , you never know when you're going to need him/her/them.

Small World

The running into of people is so funny. I live in the place that I grew up in, and I have been involved in many, many things over the course of my lifetime. So I cannot go a day without running into someone I know. And there are certain places that I go where I always run into someone I know. In the last 3 weeks I have been to the mall 4 times. Just quick trips, in and out under an hour with Jacob in the stroller, walking, or hanging off of me in some respect.

I know I'm making it sound like I go to the mall a lot. This is not true really, I'm just trying to squeeze it all in before the friggin Christmas season really starts up. It has already, by the way. it's just not in full force yet. Although, the lady waiting in her SUV for a parking spot today gave me good reason to think it's just around the corner. People are so lazy. There was a guy standing outside his car, talking on his cell phone (don't get me started on the cell phones...). He was eventually going to get in, but he was taking his sweet time. And this lady was just sitting there in her car, with the blinker on, waiting for his spot. There were spots all over the place, but this one was ten steps closer to the door - oooh. If she'd just taken a different spot further away she could have been done with her shopping trip by the time the guy got in his car.

I entered that row from a different end so I could see the empty spot (blocked from her vision by a jumbo SUV - don't even get me started on those) even closer to the door than the one she was waiting for. Haha..I grabbed it up and the look on her face was to die for. "Don't even pretend you were waiting for this spot," I said from the safety of my car. I wasn't even looking for a close spot. I don't mind parking far away. And unless you are handicapped, have a baby with you and it's raining, or have a multiple number of small of kids, then really, what is the reason that you cannot use your own two feet to walk the extra steps to the entrance. Seriously, you're going to the mall, once you get in, it's all walking anyway.

Trips #1 and #2 to the the mall happened in the same week. Both times I saw my sister there. Both times I was just leaving and she was just getting there. And it's not like we know where the other is going to be on any given day. We only talk if we see each other at my mom's or if she calls because she wants something from me. Trip #1 we also saw one of my friends from the moms club. The next trip was at the end of last week. Jacob and I had such a fun time that night (Daddy was painting and we didn't want to be alone). So we saw another one of my moms club friends, with her husband and their daughter. We talked for a couple minutes and then as I was rounding the corner away from them, I spotted my brother walking toward us. Today, I saw another moms club friend and I high school teacher of mine in the bathroom. That reminds me that last month I saw my 6th grade teacher there too. I always run in to former teachers and that's kind of weird because they don't always remember you so you can just go up to the and say hi. You don't want to make them feel bad for not remembering you. What must that be like, to be a teacher for 20+ years and be out in public. Are you constantly looking around, wondering if the mom over there was in your class, or if the teenager that past you was in your kindergarten class? No? I would.

So after seeing my sister in the mall twice, I ran into her in Starbucks last week. Not the kind of person you want to be seen in a coffee shop with. And on Sunday at another coffee shop I saw a college senior who I used to baby-sit for! I don't even want to be old enough to be a college senior myself, much less the former baby-sitter of one. The other day in Target I ran into someone I used to work with and got to she her daughter for the first time. Actually it was someone from Day Camp (capitalized because I worked there for so many summers that it was became an integral part of my development to adulthood). I had the same kids for like 7 summers and now I see them out in the world, working in the grocery store, driving cars (!), dating....and they don't always remember me. So I just take a good look and smile to myself and hope they don't see me staring.

Maybe this kind of thing is the reason why I walk around feeling like I'm being watched. Think Jim Carrey in The Truman Show.

I also can't meet someone without realizing a connection that we already have with each other. Working at place where moms (and dads) come in all day long with their small kids gives me plenty of opportunities to have the same conversation over and over again: "You look familiar," - "What's you maiden name?" - "Did you grow up here?" - "Wait, is so-and-so your sister?" Yada, yada, yada...

I like to think of these little instances as constant reminders that the universe is connected.

My mom always told me to be careful when you're driving to not commit some offense against another driver because you never know if it's going to turn out to be someone you know. And I can generalize this to pretty much any other situation as well, since I'm always running into people everywhere I go. I can't go out in public without looking decent, and if I don't, when I do see that inevitable person I know, I have to try like hell to avoid them. Writing this blog is a lot like that. I hold myself to a higher standard because I know I have an audience (however small it may be - while I'm on it, maybe sometime one of you could leave me some feedback?). Sure, I could lie, or just omit the part where I scream at Jacob, or am a lazy mom sometimes, or whatever. But it's nice to know that when I say I am going to be better in some regard, it's in writing and that alone helps me to follow through on stuff. Like today at the mall, we had a leisurely time and I actually played with Jacob, and haven't really at any point today been doing more than 2 things at once. I've already been clearing my schedule (like I said I would) and slowing down, yelling less, getting to bed earlier. I wonder if that will work on Zach too? I'll give it a try: The bathroom will be done by the end of the week!