It's 7:35 am and I am up. This is early for me these days. It has, after all, been summer break and for the first time in my post college life, that has meant a break for me as well. Working an even more revised schedule during the summer months, in combination with no early morning school preparations, has offered me a much appreciated opportunity to sleep in at least 3 days per week. Those of you with small children know that sleeping in means until 8:00 or 8:30 and on the very rare, cool and dark August morning, with the early chill of Fall in the air, maybe even 9:00! I know, Gasp!
This morning, all cuddled up under my covers, subconsciously knowing that this could be one of those 8:30 days, I slept fitfully and comfortably. Then, like someone opened a door in the middle of January and let all the cold air in, there it was. Right beside my head there was the morning breath of Mack saying "Mama, I peed in my bed!". I shot straight up knowing full well that when the brand new bunk beds were put together last weekend the waterproof mattress pad was not put back on the top bunk, aka, Mack's new favorite place to sleep. I just looked at him and said "You're kidding me!" and then realizing my tone was slightly sharper than I expected it to be, especially since those were the first words spoken for the day, I jumped up and gave him a hug and said "How bad?". His answer of "I didn't try!" was enough to tell me it was going to be bad. Not to mention the way his shoulders slumped as he said it was enough to break my heart. So, together, we trodded into his room and up the ladder to the top bunk I went. Hmm, that's funny, it's not wet at all! Since Mack doesn't actually sleep under the covers I had to do a swipe of the entire bed and sure enough, not wet, anywhere. I looked down at Mack from perch high atop the top bunk and said, "buddy, are you sure you peed in your bed?" to which he replied, kind of frantically, "yes, and I still have some more to give!". As he ran off to the bathroom I decided to feel up the top bunk one last time to make sure I wasn't missing anything but it was still dry and I was feeling much better. Mack came back and announced a little bit must have snuck out because only his underpants were wet. Phew! And then, in true Kristin form, once I realized the crisis was averted, and that he had been hugged and made to feel better, I started to realize what this all meant. It meant that I was now awake at 7:20, on one of those days I could have still been sleeping, and one of those days when I forgot to set the coffee pot the night before.
So, here I sit, back in my own warm bed typing away on the computer, listening to Mack repeatedly say "burrrrr" from the living room where the windows were left open last night, despite being buried under at least 2 blankets. He's watching Pokemon and I'm considering finishing up my summer read, "Pillars of the Earth" before Pierson wakes up. Great book, but enormous. So big that I dedicated my entire summer to it and now with Labor Day looming I feel a bit like I have a deadline to meet. And as I say that I realize that it's more than finishing the book that I feel pressured to do before Labor Day. We need to get to the beach again and maybe Crystal Mountain water park. We need to make s'mores at least one more time and I need to get to the Farmer's Market. And then I stop and realize that just because Labor Day is next week, and school starts up again, doesn't mean that summer is over and we can't do these things anymore. Living at the mercy of the school year calender for the first time (Kindergarten doesn't really count because he didn't go all day every day) is a trip and brings a finality to summer so much earlier than when we just look at a calendar and know that September is beautiful in Northern Michigan and we still have plenty of warm weather opportunities to enjoy all that is good about where we live.
Mack and I are dropping off Pierson at daycare for a couple of hours this morning and heading to Target to finish up some Back to School shopping. I think we will stop at Good Harbor and get a Latte for me and maybe a Warm Chocolate with lots of whipped cream and sprinkles for him. Maybe we'll even head down to the Wednesday Farmers Market downtown and check at least one thing off my "still to do this summer" list. I hope you all do something fun and memorable this weekend to mark the end of summer vacation but make some plans while you're at it to still enjoy summer fun right on through September and if we're lucky, maybe even a little bit of October too!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Pier Pier
When Peter and I decided to name our second son Pierson we thought of all the ways one might shorten his name. Nowhere on our list of possibilities was Pier Pier, however, this is the name that has affectionately stuck. It's funny to me that my "all boy" wonder would have such a wussy nick name. This boy who recently said "Oh yeah, now that's what I'm talkin' about" as we passed a parking lot full of Four Wheelers in town. The same boy who can run like the wind, pumping his arms to go faster and faster, and who can name every construction truck out there easily responds to Pier Pier. I have visions of him running down a football field some day and all the cheerleaders shouting "Go Pier Pier" and I laugh at how ironic it all is. And then I laugh at the thought of one my children playing football because you know I'd never allow it..they could get hurt! :) Of course I am kidding, sort of.
So my little Pier Pier turns 3 today. Sometimes I have to remind myself that he is in fact just turning 3..and not 5. I have to remember that just because he can do so much and has such an extensive vocabulary doesn't mean I should expect so much out of him. He has moved on from being a baby but is still in that toddler purgatory of not quite being a "kid" yet. He absolutely refuses to sit on the potty and becomes so disgusted at the mere mention that I'm pretty sure I'll be inventing a size 7 diaper just so he can leave the house. There is no incentive big enough to get him to do it. I have promised him a pony and a trip to Disney but alas... Bottom line: This kid does things when he wants to and not at the suggestion of others. I know when he's ready he'll tell me and hopefully that will be that.
When Peter and I look at photos of Mack right before Pierson was born (Mack was 3 and a couple of months) we agree that Mack seemed so much bigger and older than Pierson does right now. I chalk it up to him being an only child up to that point and getting constant attention from everyone in his life. He was the only child and only grandchild (at least in Michigan) so he had uninterrupted conversations with the adults in his life and uninterrupted play time as well. Pierson has always had to vie for a spot in the lineup and believe me, he made his presence known from day one and has never had a hard time fitting in. It's just that he has had an older brother to contend with and has often been told, "hang on just a second buddy".
In a couple of weeks Mack will start first grade and will be in school all day every day and that will leave 2 1/2 days per week for just me and Pierson. I am really looking forward to this time with him. His first 3 years have absolutely flown by and I'm starting to realize that he'll be in school before I know it and I really want to cherish some alone time with him. He plays so differently than Mack did at this age. He entertains himself beautifully and keep himself busy for hours. He says some of the goofiest things and has the face expressions to match. He is so stinkin' cute and boy does he know it. He knows this about himself the same way I know that I need chocolate to get thru most days. A couple of weeks ago we were at the beach and a delightful little boy with Downs Syndrome (Will was his name) wondered over to where my boys were playing and started to dig with one of Pierson's shovels. The boys showed him all the goodies in their sand toy bag and before long they were playing together famously. I was talking to Will's mom and watching the interaction between the 3 boys as she told me that Will was very social and knew exactly what people were saying to him and what he was trying to say back but that sometimes his vocabulary couldn't keep up and therefore people had a difficult time understanding him. At that very moment Will said something to Pierson that none of us could understand but Pierson just looked at him and without flinching said "You are? Well I'm cute!".
And that pretty much sums it up. My boy with the wussy nick name who knows he's cute is 3 years old today and I love him 3 times more today than I did the day he was born and 3 times less than I will 3 years from now.
So my little Pier Pier turns 3 today. Sometimes I have to remind myself that he is in fact just turning 3..and not 5. I have to remember that just because he can do so much and has such an extensive vocabulary doesn't mean I should expect so much out of him. He has moved on from being a baby but is still in that toddler purgatory of not quite being a "kid" yet. He absolutely refuses to sit on the potty and becomes so disgusted at the mere mention that I'm pretty sure I'll be inventing a size 7 diaper just so he can leave the house. There is no incentive big enough to get him to do it. I have promised him a pony and a trip to Disney but alas... Bottom line: This kid does things when he wants to and not at the suggestion of others. I know when he's ready he'll tell me and hopefully that will be that.
When Peter and I look at photos of Mack right before Pierson was born (Mack was 3 and a couple of months) we agree that Mack seemed so much bigger and older than Pierson does right now. I chalk it up to him being an only child up to that point and getting constant attention from everyone in his life. He was the only child and only grandchild (at least in Michigan) so he had uninterrupted conversations with the adults in his life and uninterrupted play time as well. Pierson has always had to vie for a spot in the lineup and believe me, he made his presence known from day one and has never had a hard time fitting in. It's just that he has had an older brother to contend with and has often been told, "hang on just a second buddy".
In a couple of weeks Mack will start first grade and will be in school all day every day and that will leave 2 1/2 days per week for just me and Pierson. I am really looking forward to this time with him. His first 3 years have absolutely flown by and I'm starting to realize that he'll be in school before I know it and I really want to cherish some alone time with him. He plays so differently than Mack did at this age. He entertains himself beautifully and keep himself busy for hours. He says some of the goofiest things and has the face expressions to match. He is so stinkin' cute and boy does he know it. He knows this about himself the same way I know that I need chocolate to get thru most days. A couple of weeks ago we were at the beach and a delightful little boy with Downs Syndrome (Will was his name) wondered over to where my boys were playing and started to dig with one of Pierson's shovels. The boys showed him all the goodies in their sand toy bag and before long they were playing together famously. I was talking to Will's mom and watching the interaction between the 3 boys as she told me that Will was very social and knew exactly what people were saying to him and what he was trying to say back but that sometimes his vocabulary couldn't keep up and therefore people had a difficult time understanding him. At that very moment Will said something to Pierson that none of us could understand but Pierson just looked at him and without flinching said "You are? Well I'm cute!".
And that pretty much sums it up. My boy with the wussy nick name who knows he's cute is 3 years old today and I love him 3 times more today than I did the day he was born and 3 times less than I will 3 years from now.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Expect the Unexpected
My father has always told me that I am one of his most favorite human beings. He cites my consistency as one of my best attributes. I'm one of those "what you see is what you get" kind of gals. A good thing, yes...but perhaps a little boring. But even I have a bag of tricks and surprises that I sometimes pull from. A hanky up my sleeve of sorts that keeps people guessing. I recall one of the first times I tugged on that hanky and the reaction it got from people. I was 17 and it was the fall of my senior year of high school. I was playing Powder Puff football and I picked number 69 for my jersey. I had no idea what it meant at the time but I knew it was something scandalous. I walked in the homecoming parade alongside our float and then into the stands of our football "stadium" preparing to take the field for the big game. I remember the look on the face of one of my mom's friends when she saw my shirt and the way she lifted her eyebrows when asking my mom, "Number 69?". Again, I had no idea what it meant but I could see that it was getting a reaction. That must have been the beginning of my week of rebellion as a teen because it was about the same time that I took interest in a football player (incidentally our powder puff coach) who was a bit of a redneck and drove a red pick up truck. He asked me to go to a party after the game and I agreed. It was when I realized he expected me to sit right next to him in his pickup..you know..in the middle of the bench seat..that I drew the line and retreated to my prior life of goody goody preppy girl.
I think about this every once in a while when I feel the need to step out of my comfort zone as that good girl and do something just a little bit unexpected. And sometimes I find myself in the middle of a seemingly harmless and routine activity for myself that is attracting attention from someone else as unusual. For example, those of you who know and love me understand that I like wine. But sometimes I like to kick it up a notch and mix up a martini. The other night I was on the phone with my mother, making dinner for my family and a cocktail for myself. I asked her to hang on a second and proceeded to shake my martini until it was chilled and frothy and when I said, "Ok..go ahead" she wanted to know what the noise was. I nonchalantly mentioned that I was making a martini and had to shake it up real quick. There was a pause and then a little laugh and I heard her say to my dad "Your daughter is making herself a martini!". Now I must say that she was not saying it in an incredulous or judgemental way. She was, I think, pleasantly surprised to find that on a routine night, one where I was not entertaining anyone but myself, I was making myself a drink. I realized that to her it was quite unexpected and I felt that familiar thrill of taking someone by surprise.
Last night I went with my girlfriends to see Mamma Mia. I have loved this show and the music since I saw it with Peter in Toronto 4 years ago. I could not have been more thrilled then when I found out they were making it into a movie. Last night was the second time I have seen it in the theater and I wouldn't hesitate to pay $8.50 to see it again. There is a character in the cast named Tanya who is the close friend of Donna. She has been married 3 times, has had extensive plastic surgery and the young men (particularly one, named Pepper) think she's hot stuff. There is a scene in the show where she sings a song to Pepper called "Does your Mother know?" (Listen here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vi05Su7jX6k). I have told Peter, repeatedly, that if the Old Town Playhouse ever took a stab at Mamma Mia, I would totally take voice lessons and audition for the role of Tanya. I think this surprises him. It could not be more out of character for me. Me, the girl who didn't need the "which sex in the city character are you" quiz to tell me that I was totally Charlotte. One might think I would want the role of Sophie, the daughter in Mamma Mia given her girly, girl, bride to be character. But no, if given the chance I would pick Tanya because playing Tanya would be the unexpected thing to do and sometimes doing the unexpected is doing what's fun, and fulfilling expectations you have of yourself to step outside the box and live a little more freely than you may allow yourself to do on a daily basis.
I think about this every once in a while when I feel the need to step out of my comfort zone as that good girl and do something just a little bit unexpected. And sometimes I find myself in the middle of a seemingly harmless and routine activity for myself that is attracting attention from someone else as unusual. For example, those of you who know and love me understand that I like wine. But sometimes I like to kick it up a notch and mix up a martini. The other night I was on the phone with my mother, making dinner for my family and a cocktail for myself. I asked her to hang on a second and proceeded to shake my martini until it was chilled and frothy and when I said, "Ok..go ahead" she wanted to know what the noise was. I nonchalantly mentioned that I was making a martini and had to shake it up real quick. There was a pause and then a little laugh and I heard her say to my dad "Your daughter is making herself a martini!". Now I must say that she was not saying it in an incredulous or judgemental way. She was, I think, pleasantly surprised to find that on a routine night, one where I was not entertaining anyone but myself, I was making myself a drink. I realized that to her it was quite unexpected and I felt that familiar thrill of taking someone by surprise.
Last night I went with my girlfriends to see Mamma Mia. I have loved this show and the music since I saw it with Peter in Toronto 4 years ago. I could not have been more thrilled then when I found out they were making it into a movie. Last night was the second time I have seen it in the theater and I wouldn't hesitate to pay $8.50 to see it again. There is a character in the cast named Tanya who is the close friend of Donna. She has been married 3 times, has had extensive plastic surgery and the young men (particularly one, named Pepper) think she's hot stuff. There is a scene in the show where she sings a song to Pepper called "Does your Mother know?" (Listen here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vi05Su7jX6k). I have told Peter, repeatedly, that if the Old Town Playhouse ever took a stab at Mamma Mia, I would totally take voice lessons and audition for the role of Tanya. I think this surprises him. It could not be more out of character for me. Me, the girl who didn't need the "which sex in the city character are you" quiz to tell me that I was totally Charlotte. One might think I would want the role of Sophie, the daughter in Mamma Mia given her girly, girl, bride to be character. But no, if given the chance I would pick Tanya because playing Tanya would be the unexpected thing to do and sometimes doing the unexpected is doing what's fun, and fulfilling expectations you have of yourself to step outside the box and live a little more freely than you may allow yourself to do on a daily basis.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Say what you need to say...
I'm sitting here in sweat soaked clothes after returning from a lovely early morning run. I feel like I don't have much time for anything anymore, hence the reason for running early in the morning before Peter leaves for his day and the reason I sit here in sweaty clothes. I could go take a nice shower before the kids wake up and then sit curled up on the front porch with my morning java, listening to the sweet sounds of the birds chirping their morning hello (these birds replace the seriously annoying crows that wake me up every morning at 5:00 am). But instead I want to blog. It has been way too long and during my absence I have had so many inspirations to write; mainly my words of advice to the graduating (now graduated ) class of 2008.
Before I jump into my faux commencement address, let me tell you how weird it is for me to write "the class of 2008". I graduated with the class of 1993 which I'm pretty sure was just a couple of years ago. Upon further inspection (and addition) I realize that this spring marked 15 years that I have been out of high school. This is remarkable to me, in a punch in the gut sort of way. Not because I feel discontent with the way my life has gone in those 15 years but rather disbelief that it has gone so fast!
At the end of May I was listening to a local talk radio program that was taking calls from listeners who had advice for graduating seniors. I started to think 'what would I say if I were to give a commencement address?' This is something fun to think about because in reality, not many of us will ever get asked to deliver these parting words to the future of America. But I really thought about it and realized that I have legitimate advice to offer these fine folks and while my words may not necessarily land them some great job, they may at least lay a foundation on which to live their adult life.
1. Make good choices: If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times. I know I have written about this before and how I tell my kids this every day, but come on, it's common sense. Make good choices. Think before you speak. Take pause before you act. It's something we all learn as children and if more of us practiced it, I can only imagine what kind of world we would live in.
2. Take risks but be accountable: I'm not saying go bungee jumping. I'm saying don't be afraid to take a chance. Don't always play it safe. Life is short and for some people, their best moves in life were made while taking a chance. But in the end, if that risk turns out to be a bad move, remember it was you who chose to do it. No one made you. Accountability is key. Be responsible for your own actions.
3. Be Truthful: To yourself and to others. Liars must live an exhausting life trying to remember who they have said what to. Keep your story straight. It should always stay the same, regardless of who you are telling it to. Tell the truth. If you don't, the only one you are really lying to is yourself.
4. Know who you are: Don't let others define you. Decide who you want to be and be that person. It's not brain surgery people. You should not have to change who you are depending on who you are spending time with. You should be the same person with your family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, etc. Be real, be you.
5. Make yourself proud: One of my personality flaws is worrying about disappointing others. Some people would not see that as a flaw but when the fear of letting others down interferes with doing what is right for you and yours, it becomes a flaw. I have worked on that thru the years and I'm getting better at saying no but it's not easy. I'm a pleaser and I want to make others happy because somehow in my crazy brain that equates to making them proud of me. But what I have learned is that it's far more important to make myself proud. I'm the one who needs to be happy with the decisions I am making and if someone else thinks those decisions are good too, well that's just the icing on the cake.
6. Don't settle: This is a tricky one because it's not clear cut. Everyone's idea of settling will be different. Don't settle for the wrong person to marry. Don't settle for the wrong job. Don't buy the first house you can afford. Don't run around with the wrong group of friends just because you've known them forever and it's comfortable. Don't settle. Let's go back to not settling for the wrong job. This doesn't mean sit around without a job just because you can't find the perfect one. This means it's ok to take a job that maybe you don't love but it's fine in the interim because it does pay the bills. Just don't settle into that job as though it's your lifelong career. Keep looking for that "perfect job" but be employed while you're doing it.
7. Trying to is lying to: This is one of my favorites and I just heard it within the last year. Again, maybe a little clear cut for some of you but the gist is this: Don't say you're "trying to". You either do or you don't. You're only lying to yourself if you continually say "I'm trying to". Make it happen.
8. Say what you need to say: In the words of my new friend John Mayer, "Say what you need to say". John and I are just recently becoming friends, he's a friend of a friend actually and said friend is probably grinning from ear to ear right now at the John reference. My favorite line in this song is:
Walkin' like a one man army
Fightin' with the shadows in your head
Livin' up the same old moment
Knowin' you'd be better off instead
if you could only...Say what you need to say
Sigh. So easily said. It makes perfect sense that it should be that easy but, wow, it's tough. It's hard for me to offer this advice because it's still something I am working on. It's a classic case of practice what you preach. There are some people in my life that I have no problem with saying what I need to say. But there are others that I just clam right up and cannot do it. Mostly because I know what the reaction will be and in the end nothing is accomplished and I'm just as frustrated as I was going into it. So, I guess rather than advice, this is a challenge for a new generation to learn to say what needs to be said. When you figure out the perfect equation to make it happen, let me know. I'm an old dog at this point and from what I'm told, even old dogs can learn new tricks.
Peace out!
Before I jump into my faux commencement address, let me tell you how weird it is for me to write "the class of 2008". I graduated with the class of 1993 which I'm pretty sure was just a couple of years ago. Upon further inspection (and addition) I realize that this spring marked 15 years that I have been out of high school. This is remarkable to me, in a punch in the gut sort of way. Not because I feel discontent with the way my life has gone in those 15 years but rather disbelief that it has gone so fast!
At the end of May I was listening to a local talk radio program that was taking calls from listeners who had advice for graduating seniors. I started to think 'what would I say if I were to give a commencement address?' This is something fun to think about because in reality, not many of us will ever get asked to deliver these parting words to the future of America. But I really thought about it and realized that I have legitimate advice to offer these fine folks and while my words may not necessarily land them some great job, they may at least lay a foundation on which to live their adult life.
1. Make good choices: If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times. I know I have written about this before and how I tell my kids this every day, but come on, it's common sense. Make good choices. Think before you speak. Take pause before you act. It's something we all learn as children and if more of us practiced it, I can only imagine what kind of world we would live in.
2. Take risks but be accountable: I'm not saying go bungee jumping. I'm saying don't be afraid to take a chance. Don't always play it safe. Life is short and for some people, their best moves in life were made while taking a chance. But in the end, if that risk turns out to be a bad move, remember it was you who chose to do it. No one made you. Accountability is key. Be responsible for your own actions.
3. Be Truthful: To yourself and to others. Liars must live an exhausting life trying to remember who they have said what to. Keep your story straight. It should always stay the same, regardless of who you are telling it to. Tell the truth. If you don't, the only one you are really lying to is yourself.
4. Know who you are: Don't let others define you. Decide who you want to be and be that person. It's not brain surgery people. You should not have to change who you are depending on who you are spending time with. You should be the same person with your family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, etc. Be real, be you.
5. Make yourself proud: One of my personality flaws is worrying about disappointing others. Some people would not see that as a flaw but when the fear of letting others down interferes with doing what is right for you and yours, it becomes a flaw. I have worked on that thru the years and I'm getting better at saying no but it's not easy. I'm a pleaser and I want to make others happy because somehow in my crazy brain that equates to making them proud of me. But what I have learned is that it's far more important to make myself proud. I'm the one who needs to be happy with the decisions I am making and if someone else thinks those decisions are good too, well that's just the icing on the cake.
6. Don't settle: This is a tricky one because it's not clear cut. Everyone's idea of settling will be different. Don't settle for the wrong person to marry. Don't settle for the wrong job. Don't buy the first house you can afford. Don't run around with the wrong group of friends just because you've known them forever and it's comfortable. Don't settle. Let's go back to not settling for the wrong job. This doesn't mean sit around without a job just because you can't find the perfect one. This means it's ok to take a job that maybe you don't love but it's fine in the interim because it does pay the bills. Just don't settle into that job as though it's your lifelong career. Keep looking for that "perfect job" but be employed while you're doing it.
7. Trying to is lying to: This is one of my favorites and I just heard it within the last year. Again, maybe a little clear cut for some of you but the gist is this: Don't say you're "trying to". You either do or you don't. You're only lying to yourself if you continually say "I'm trying to". Make it happen.
8. Say what you need to say: In the words of my new friend John Mayer, "Say what you need to say". John and I are just recently becoming friends, he's a friend of a friend actually and said friend is probably grinning from ear to ear right now at the John reference. My favorite line in this song is:
Walkin' like a one man army
Fightin' with the shadows in your head
Livin' up the same old moment
Knowin' you'd be better off instead
if you could only...Say what you need to say
Sigh. So easily said. It makes perfect sense that it should be that easy but, wow, it's tough. It's hard for me to offer this advice because it's still something I am working on. It's a classic case of practice what you preach. There are some people in my life that I have no problem with saying what I need to say. But there are others that I just clam right up and cannot do it. Mostly because I know what the reaction will be and in the end nothing is accomplished and I'm just as frustrated as I was going into it. So, I guess rather than advice, this is a challenge for a new generation to learn to say what needs to be said. When you figure out the perfect equation to make it happen, let me know. I'm an old dog at this point and from what I'm told, even old dogs can learn new tricks.
Peace out!
Monday, June 2, 2008
Happy Birthday Macker
Last night before we went to bed I looked at Peter and said "Six years ago right now I was getting ready to push". And push and push I did until finally the doctor suggested a C-section. I was delirious with pain, exhaustion and fear and at that point would have happily had my legs chopped off if it meant that it would all be over and my baby would be ok. And then there he was, this goofy looking newborn with the biggest cheeks..no make that Jowls..that you can imagine on a newborn. He would become one of the most beautiful boys I have ever laid eyes on and for sure the sweetest thing to ever steal my heart. Those 21 hours of labor and pushing were the most difficult hours in this child's life so far. Since then he has been an easy going constant source of enjoyment.
Six seems so old to me. Five still felt like a "little" boy. He still wore clothes that were 5T which to me meant he was still a toddler of sorts. Six is big. Six is riding a bike on 2 wheels instead of 4. Six is asking if he can have friends over to play. Six is swinging from monkey bars with little effort and climbing trees with no fear of what's below should he fall. Six is being able to read and write and suddenly being fascinated with calculators and math. Six is sometimes using a different tone than what I am used to hearing come out of his sweet little mouth which is a very abrupt reminder that seven, eight, nine and so forth will come quicker than I would like. It's so cliche to hear over and over again about how fast the time goes and before you know it they're all grown up. It's so true! I remember when he needed me to lay with him at night when he first switched to a big boy bed. I remember by the eight month of my pregnancy with Pierson, when I could barely haul myself over him and the little railing on his bed in order to get out once he finally fell asleep. I complained to Peter "when will this stop?". Peter told me then to enjoy it because he was not always going to want me to lay down with him. It was hard to see the sun through the haze back then but it's true. Now, when he wants me to sing him a song or rub his back, I'm there because I really want to be and not because it's something he needs from me.
Last night at dinner when I suggested that he take the bus to school today now that he was a big 6 year old he scoffed at that idea. He said when he's in first grade. The kid has ridden the bus home from school every day this year but has no interest in riding it to school. Something about it being too noisy. He asked if I could rent him a private bus to take him to school for his birthday. I laughed and said "What, like a car service or something?" and he said quite seriously "Yeah..like a limousine!". Peter and I cracked up. How does he even know about private buses and limousines?
This birthday is going to be a crazy one. He is at school today and then will come home and have to rush off to a T Ball game tonight followed by a birthday dinner with gigi and Papa. We are having a little after school play date tomorrow with his buddies from the neighborhood. His real birthday party is a small gathering of a few boys from his class at a miniature golf course this Saturday followed by pizza and cake. He took spider man cupcakes to school today to share with his classmates. I felt a little badly that I did not make cupcakes for him to take to school but then I remembered that he doesn't care where the cupcakes came from as long as he has some. As parents we expect so much more of ourselves than our children expect of us. And we forget that the little things are what matters to them. This morning I made birthday pancakes for breakfast and served his on our "Today is your day, celebrate" plate that only gets pulled out for special occasions. I stuck a candle in the middle of his pancake and sang happy birthday to him. I knew he liked it but it wasn't until my friend, who drove him to school this morning (the closest I could come to a private bus) told me that he talked about the pancakes with the candle and his mom singing happy birthday to him the whole way up to school that I realized how much this simple gesture on my part made an impact on his morning. It made my day to know I had made his.
Six seems so old to me. Five still felt like a "little" boy. He still wore clothes that were 5T which to me meant he was still a toddler of sorts. Six is big. Six is riding a bike on 2 wheels instead of 4. Six is asking if he can have friends over to play. Six is swinging from monkey bars with little effort and climbing trees with no fear of what's below should he fall. Six is being able to read and write and suddenly being fascinated with calculators and math. Six is sometimes using a different tone than what I am used to hearing come out of his sweet little mouth which is a very abrupt reminder that seven, eight, nine and so forth will come quicker than I would like. It's so cliche to hear over and over again about how fast the time goes and before you know it they're all grown up. It's so true! I remember when he needed me to lay with him at night when he first switched to a big boy bed. I remember by the eight month of my pregnancy with Pierson, when I could barely haul myself over him and the little railing on his bed in order to get out once he finally fell asleep. I complained to Peter "when will this stop?". Peter told me then to enjoy it because he was not always going to want me to lay down with him. It was hard to see the sun through the haze back then but it's true. Now, when he wants me to sing him a song or rub his back, I'm there because I really want to be and not because it's something he needs from me.I love this little birthday boy with all my heart and I am so, so lucky that it was this perfect little specimen of boy that God decided to give to this girly girl to make her a mama.
Happy birthday buddy!
Here are a couple photos from the big day!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Have you ever had a moment when something just clicks? A true moment of clarity that appears out of nowhere and often when you didn't know you were looking for it in the first place? Such a thing happened to me over Memorial Day weekend.
Most of you know that I ran my first 10k last weekend. It was such an amazing experience and one that I can put down in the book of "I did it". Never did I imagine that the day would come that I would be writing about running 6 miles. Me, the girl who faked injuries in gym class just to get out of running one mile around the high school track. Sad but true. When I started running a little over a year ago it was at the encouragement of my dear friend Cass. She seemed to see something in me that I didn't know was there. The first time I went out with her she "made me" run 2 miles. It wasn't too long afterwards that I ran my first 5k. She ran it with me despite being 16 weeks pregnant. She ran for a good part of her pregnancy and was an inspiration to me and I'm sure a lot of other people as well. I ran through the winter and agreed to sign up for the Bayshore 10k despite the fact that I'm not much of a distance runner (6 miles is a fair distance if you ask me). It was right around mile 2 of this race that my moment of clarity hit me.
Most of you know that I ran my first 10k last weekend. It was such an amazing experience and one that I can put down in the book of "I did it". Never did I imagine that the day would come that I would be writing about running 6 miles. Me, the girl who faked injuries in gym class just to get out of running one mile around the high school track. Sad but true. When I started running a little over a year ago it was at the encouragement of my dear friend Cass. She seemed to see something in me that I didn't know was there. The first time I went out with her she "made me" run 2 miles. It wasn't too long afterwards that I ran my first 5k. She ran it with me despite being 16 weeks pregnant. She ran for a good part of her pregnancy and was an inspiration to me and I'm sure a lot of other people as well. I ran through the winter and agreed to sign up for the Bayshore 10k despite the fact that I'm not much of a distance runner (6 miles is a fair distance if you ask me). It was right around mile 2 of this race that my moment of clarity hit me.
I was running next to my friend Kimber. She was pointing out some beautiful homes along the route that were for sale. She showed me one that was for rent and I commented on how cute it was. We ran along and chatted as though we were the only two on the course. I loved that first part of the race. It was during that time that I looked out at the Bay and said "Kimber, look at how beautiful that is. Aren't we so lucky to live here?". She agreed. It was such a nice moment. It was at that same moment that Cass sped by us on her quest to finish in under an hour. She was cruisin' and other than a quick hello seemed to be pretty focused on what she was doing. It hit me at that second how different we are in our reasons for running. She was out there on a mission; it was a race after all. She had trained for weeks following a pretty strict training schedule in order to finish with a certain time. Running was something that was really important to her. For her, it wasn't just a way to get some exercise, like it was for me, it was a part of her life. She actually likes running and looks forward to each time she laces up her shoes and pounds the pavement. I am out there to burn calories and listen to my otherwise forbidden music (hey, I have small children). She did a great job on Saturday and ran a personal best and I was very happy for her and proud of her. But part of my moment of clarity was realizing that even though she was the one to encourage me in the beginning, running wasn't going to be a hobby we would ultimately share together. It was always going to be about something more to her than it ever could be to me.
The mood and energy at the race on Saturday was amazing. It set a tone for the rest of the day. I was so happy to see the sweet faces of Peter and the kids cheering me on when I only had about 200 meters to go. I had run a good race. In my heart I knew I did the best I could do and despite a little "burp" scare that I thought might lead to something else, I felt great! My typical style is to kick it into high gear and high tail it to the finish line as soon as it is in sight but I didn't do that on Saturday. Maybe I was too tired. Or maybe I was just taking my time getting there and enjoying the energy around me for those last several seconds. Whatever the case, I was proud to be among several thousand runners there that day, regardless of what brought them there in the first place.
Post run stretch..I was still smiling..that's a good sign!
My little cheering section.
Kimber, Laura, Me, Cass
My lovely cousins, Linsey (in the green) and Jaime. They ran the half marathon and did awesome!
Friday, May 23, 2008
Friday Funnies make a comeback
When I first sat down to "blog" this morning I intended to relay a couple funny stories from our week but instead I went on and on about how my little monkeys are so different. (see post below). So I am back and while I don't have a whole lot of little one liners to share from the week I do have some good stories that you'll just have to put yourselves in the moment to fully grasp. Here we go...
Wednesday night was mom and kids night. Peter had a meeting that would run late so I made the decision that the boys and I would still sit down to dinner together..something we don't always do when Daddy's not home. I made sea shell spaghetti and garlic bread for them and a mongo salad for myself. We sat down and the conversation started rolling. Pierson started asking questions about bears and if we had any bears in our woods behind our house. I told him no, no bears back there. He went on and on and I half listened and "uh, huh-ed" my way thru a few minutes before the conversation took a very interesting turn. Pierson said "If there was a bear out there my daddy would boom him and mess up him!". I stopped chewing, cocked my head to one side and with my mouth full said "I'm sorry, what was that?". Now Mack was paying closer attention too as Pierson repeated "If there was a bear out there my daddy would boom him and mess up him". I am laughing hysterically at this point. Mack is too. In fact I started crying I was laughing so hard which of course drew stares of confusion from both my kids because they weren't sure if I was happy or sad at this point. I laughed first at how horribly grammatically incorrect Pierson's statement was since clearly he should have been saying "Mess him up!". Secondly I laughed that he even knew to say such a thing in this context. Where had he ever heard someone say "Mess him up" or "mess up him!". But most of all I laughed at the thought of Peter fighting a bear. This is the man, bless his sweet heart, who stood on a crate holding a weed wacker when we lived in town and found out baby raccoons were in our garage. I had to hold a flashlight on one side of the garage while he scared them out with...a weed wacker. I laughed until I had nothing left. Pierson kept saying "Don't laugh guys, I not tendin' (pretending), it's not funny!" He was so serious. It was more priceless than a MasterCard commercial.
So once that scene settled down it was time to clean up. Pierson wanted some music on and his current favorite is Cupid Shuffle. Great tune if you haven't heard it. He loves to dance around the kitchen to it. Mack joined in some of the excitement as well. It was fun. They both have some pretty smooth moves. I had some cleaning left to do and they were in need of an activity so I set them up at the counter with paper and crayons and while they drew they watched this week's season finale of Dancing with the Stars on the computer. They love that show and none of us caught it when it actually aired this week so we were catching up. Now normally, if daddy would have been home, the boys would all be in the living room watching Spider man followed by Iron Man on TV. Peter walked in right as Edyta pulled off Jason Taylor's shirt in one of their numbers. The boys both said "Cool"! I told Peter that this is what we do when he's not home. He announced that I was leading them down the path toward a gay Cabaret.
There you have it, folks! Have a great long weekend!
xoxo
Wednesday night was mom and kids night. Peter had a meeting that would run late so I made the decision that the boys and I would still sit down to dinner together..something we don't always do when Daddy's not home. I made sea shell spaghetti and garlic bread for them and a mongo salad for myself. We sat down and the conversation started rolling. Pierson started asking questions about bears and if we had any bears in our woods behind our house. I told him no, no bears back there. He went on and on and I half listened and "uh, huh-ed" my way thru a few minutes before the conversation took a very interesting turn. Pierson said "If there was a bear out there my daddy would boom him and mess up him!". I stopped chewing, cocked my head to one side and with my mouth full said "I'm sorry, what was that?". Now Mack was paying closer attention too as Pierson repeated "If there was a bear out there my daddy would boom him and mess up him". I am laughing hysterically at this point. Mack is too. In fact I started crying I was laughing so hard which of course drew stares of confusion from both my kids because they weren't sure if I was happy or sad at this point. I laughed first at how horribly grammatically incorrect Pierson's statement was since clearly he should have been saying "Mess him up!". Secondly I laughed that he even knew to say such a thing in this context. Where had he ever heard someone say "Mess him up" or "mess up him!". But most of all I laughed at the thought of Peter fighting a bear. This is the man, bless his sweet heart, who stood on a crate holding a weed wacker when we lived in town and found out baby raccoons were in our garage. I had to hold a flashlight on one side of the garage while he scared them out with...a weed wacker. I laughed until I had nothing left. Pierson kept saying "Don't laugh guys, I not tendin' (pretending), it's not funny!" He was so serious. It was more priceless than a MasterCard commercial.
So once that scene settled down it was time to clean up. Pierson wanted some music on and his current favorite is Cupid Shuffle. Great tune if you haven't heard it. He loves to dance around the kitchen to it. Mack joined in some of the excitement as well. It was fun. They both have some pretty smooth moves. I had some cleaning left to do and they were in need of an activity so I set them up at the counter with paper and crayons and while they drew they watched this week's season finale of Dancing with the Stars on the computer. They love that show and none of us caught it when it actually aired this week so we were catching up. Now normally, if daddy would have been home, the boys would all be in the living room watching Spider man followed by Iron Man on TV. Peter walked in right as Edyta pulled off Jason Taylor's shirt in one of their numbers. The boys both said "Cool"! I told Peter that this is what we do when he's not home. He announced that I was leading them down the path toward a gay Cabaret.
There you have it, folks! Have a great long weekend!
xoxo
How did these two come from the same gene pool?
As a child I used to beg my parents to tell me that I was either adopted or switched at birth. That would have been easier than trying to figure out how my brother, sister and I came from the same gene pool. I remember as I got older and started hearing the argument between Nature vs. Nurture and I finally came to understand that some things just have no explanation.
Now that I am the mother of two charming little boys I find myself exploring this topic again. I expected my children to have distinct personalities but I also wrongly expected that some things would be the same. My children could not be more different. When Pierson came along Peter and I used to joke that it was a good thing that he was not born first because he would have been an only child. I don't mean to throw this sweet boy under the bus at all because truthfully he is delightful 90% of the time. I just mean that God knew what he was doing giving us Mack first.
As different as they are I can already tell how they will complement each other during their journey thru life. Mack is my shy guy; at times cautious and timid. He worries. He's a little diplomat and doesn't want to let anyone down. He's exactly like I was as a child. He's starting to come out of his shell a little bit which is wonderful to see. He's beginning to understand that when he does something funny and people laugh, they're not laughing at him. His personality is starting to shine through a little more as he discovers how good it feels to make people laugh. He likes to make me laugh. He is his mama's boy through and through. This is my boy who still tells me that the best part of his day is coming home to see me. Just before he turned 3, he and I were laying in his bed one day and he told me "I wish I had a rocket". I replied, "A rocket? What would you do if you had a rocket?" He turned to look at me with those beautiful blue eyes and told me "I would fly up high in the sky and get all the beautiful stars and bring them home to you". I cherish these early years with him because I know he's not always going to feel this way about me.
Pierson is the entertainer, the joker. He came into this life funny and we've been laughing at him for almost 3 years. Pierson thrives on this. He's the social one. He has a presence about him that makes people notice him and remember him. He is very strong willed and any idea is a bad idea unless it was his first. For as stubborn as this boy can be he can seriously turn around and be the sweetest thing you've ever known two seconds later. He gives amazing hugs and one of the things I love most about him is that he always uses the person's name that he is speaking to. For example "I love you too mama", "See you later, gigi", "Bye, by Miss Sarah", "Wanna be my special friend Daddy?". This may seem like a strange thing to note but I love this about him. It shows his innocence and sincerity. He's curious and full of questions. He likes to get a reaction out of people and when he does he files the act away in his little Pierson brain so he can pull it out again for shock factor later on. This part of his personality earned him the "first to get his mouth washed out with soap" award. He looks at bedtime as a time to party and play in his crib. He takes so many toys into bed that there's barely room for him in there. He sits in there and listens to everything going on in the rest of the house. When the phone rings he shouts for someone to get it, when Peter sneezes or coughs he yells, "Bless you, Daddy!". If I have my mixer going at 10:00 at night making cookies he insists that he "taste the frosting". You can't get much by this guy. As he approaches 3 years old it will be so fun to continue watching the transition between baby and big boy.
These boys will undoubtedly balance each other out beautifully thru the years. They will learn from each other and pick up traits that they want to have and recognize traits that they are glad they don't have. They will, without knowing it or trying to, push each other into things they would not normally do and keep each other from doing things they might be tempted to try. They will be there for each other even when they don't want to be. They will support each other even when they feel the other one is full of bull (censored.. :) because that's what brothers do. They will be each other's friend and biggest fan and I will encourage this as long as I live.
Now that I am the mother of two charming little boys I find myself exploring this topic again. I expected my children to have distinct personalities but I also wrongly expected that some things would be the same. My children could not be more different. When Pierson came along Peter and I used to joke that it was a good thing that he was not born first because he would have been an only child. I don't mean to throw this sweet boy under the bus at all because truthfully he is delightful 90% of the time. I just mean that God knew what he was doing giving us Mack first.
As different as they are I can already tell how they will complement each other during their journey thru life. Mack is my shy guy; at times cautious and timid. He worries. He's a little diplomat and doesn't want to let anyone down. He's exactly like I was as a child. He's starting to come out of his shell a little bit which is wonderful to see. He's beginning to understand that when he does something funny and people laugh, they're not laughing at him. His personality is starting to shine through a little more as he discovers how good it feels to make people laugh. He likes to make me laugh. He is his mama's boy through and through. This is my boy who still tells me that the best part of his day is coming home to see me. Just before he turned 3, he and I were laying in his bed one day and he told me "I wish I had a rocket". I replied, "A rocket? What would you do if you had a rocket?" He turned to look at me with those beautiful blue eyes and told me "I would fly up high in the sky and get all the beautiful stars and bring them home to you". I cherish these early years with him because I know he's not always going to feel this way about me.
Pierson is the entertainer, the joker. He came into this life funny and we've been laughing at him for almost 3 years. Pierson thrives on this. He's the social one. He has a presence about him that makes people notice him and remember him. He is very strong willed and any idea is a bad idea unless it was his first. For as stubborn as this boy can be he can seriously turn around and be the sweetest thing you've ever known two seconds later. He gives amazing hugs and one of the things I love most about him is that he always uses the person's name that he is speaking to. For example "I love you too mama", "See you later, gigi", "Bye, by Miss Sarah", "Wanna be my special friend Daddy?". This may seem like a strange thing to note but I love this about him. It shows his innocence and sincerity. He's curious and full of questions. He likes to get a reaction out of people and when he does he files the act away in his little Pierson brain so he can pull it out again for shock factor later on. This part of his personality earned him the "first to get his mouth washed out with soap" award. He looks at bedtime as a time to party and play in his crib. He takes so many toys into bed that there's barely room for him in there. He sits in there and listens to everything going on in the rest of the house. When the phone rings he shouts for someone to get it, when Peter sneezes or coughs he yells, "Bless you, Daddy!". If I have my mixer going at 10:00 at night making cookies he insists that he "taste the frosting". You can't get much by this guy. As he approaches 3 years old it will be so fun to continue watching the transition between baby and big boy.
These boys will undoubtedly balance each other out beautifully thru the years. They will learn from each other and pick up traits that they want to have and recognize traits that they are glad they don't have. They will, without knowing it or trying to, push each other into things they would not normally do and keep each other from doing things they might be tempted to try. They will be there for each other even when they don't want to be. They will support each other even when they feel the other one is full of bull (censored.. :) because that's what brothers do. They will be each other's friend and biggest fan and I will encourage this as long as I live.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Let's catch up
I think about blogging every day. When one of the boys does something funny or when I have a few free minutes to sit down with the computer I think "Man, I should really blog right now" but then just like that the moment is gone and I am on to something else. So, today I sit down with the intention to catch up a bit.
We last left off with my tribute to the wonderful Rancho La Puerta. Coming home from that trip was a bit like a whirlwind. It was wonderful to be home and with all my boys again but life pretty much switched right back into high gear and we were off and running. My in laws came for a week. It was great to see them and the boys had fun with them.
They held down the fort while Peter swept me away for a birthday overnight getaway to The House on the Hill and dinner at the Rowe Inn, both in Ellsworth. It was a quick trip, 24 hours on the dot, but we had a really nice time.
Peter even painted a sushi tray for me and had the kids put their hand prints on either end. So cute and a definite keepsake. It was a great birthday all around that finally wrapped up a week later with a lovely little Mexican dinner party with friends at Cassy's house. It was nice to hang out together at one of our homes without the children. It's not very often that we get to do that and it was a treat. Great food, sangria and company.
It was so great to see my grandpa and other family members that we go way too long without seeing. My cousin Sean and his wife Brecken came in from Chicago with their two kids. We have become such good friends in our adult lives and always enjoy each others company.
Their new baby Paxton was born in February and they have asked Peter and I to be her Godparents. We are so excited and honored. She is a little doll. We took the opportunity of having all the little ones together to get a good shot of them in their "initial tees". So cute!
We last left off with my tribute to the wonderful Rancho La Puerta. Coming home from that trip was a bit like a whirlwind. It was wonderful to be home and with all my boys again but life pretty much switched right back into high gear and we were off and running. My in laws came for a week. It was great to see them and the boys had fun with them.
They held down the fort while Peter swept me away for a birthday overnight getaway to The House on the Hill and dinner at the Rowe Inn, both in Ellsworth. It was a quick trip, 24 hours on the dot, but we had a really nice time. The above photo was taken on the porch at the House on the Hill. The same porch we sipped champagne on to celebrate our 2nd wedding anniversary while fireworks shot thru the sky and over the little lake just across the street. It was great being back there and we both agree we will not wait another 7 years to make a return trip.
We got home mid morning on my birthday and spent the rest of the day with Peter's parents and the kids. Grammy ordered an ice cream cake from Moomers and picked up things for dinner at home. After dinner I got to open my presents from the boys. While I was at Rancho La Puerta Peter took the kids to Hands on Art where they were able to pick out whatever they wanted to paint for me. Mack insisted on a cat because apparently I love cats. It is so cute and he was SO proud.
Peter even painted a sushi tray for me and had the kids put their hand prints on either end. So cute and a definite keepsake. It was a great birthday all around that finally wrapped up a week later with a lovely little Mexican dinner party with friends at Cassy's house. It was nice to hang out together at one of our homes without the children. It's not very often that we get to do that and it was a treat. Great food, sangria and company. Once the birthday festivities were over it was time to move on to Mother's Day. Since my mom did not make it home from Arizona to be with us on Mother's Day this year we decided to take a drive down to Grand Rapids to partake in a Mother's Day barn party at my grandfather's farm. He and his wife Joan do this every year. It's an informal get together at their farm where the kids have a ball watching and cows and getting towed around the farm on one of the big tractors. Unfortunately this year it rained the entire time we were there so we were confined to the barn. The kids still had a ball climbing on the hay bales and playing on one of the tractors that was parked indoors.
It was so great to see my grandpa and other family members that we go way too long without seeing. My cousin Sean and his wife Brecken came in from Chicago with their two kids. We have become such good friends in our adult lives and always enjoy each others company. Their new baby Paxton was born in February and they have asked Peter and I to be her Godparents. We are so excited and honored. She is a little doll. We took the opportunity of having all the little ones together to get a good shot of them in their "initial tees". So cute!
The countdown to summer is on and boy is the calendar filling up quickly. Only 3 1/2 weeks left of school. I am going to work a revised schedule during the summer months and I am excited about being home a little more. Mack has started playing T Ball and tomorrow is his first game. I'll be sure to post some pictures and highlights from the game. Mack is starting to lose some of his shyness and has become quite the "people person". It's so nice to see him come out of his shell. His imagination is taking off which is great. He and Peter and going to try to figure out how to make a jet powered skate board. I wish I was kidding. He's a great kid and I cannot believe that he will be six years old two weeks from today.
Pierson was not happy about having to go to school this morning and when I told him that I would be back right after lunch time he told me this: "I am not talking to you, I no have nice words say to you!". Hmmm..his own version of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all". He is such a character. He can be the sweetest little thing I have ever laid eyes on one minute and then can completely change on a dime. He absolutely adores being outside playing sidewalk chalk and in his sandbox. We have spent a lot of time tracing the kids bodies on the driveway with sidewalk chalk and then they decorate however they like. Mack comes up with some pretty cool super heroes and Pierson just likes to give all his guys really crazy hair. I'll have to take some pictures.
In reading back over this entry I feel it is a little like a Christmas letter and I apologize for that. I do have some more intense, deep thoughts to write about but I need to be in the right mood. For now, you should be all caught up!
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Taking care of me
The beautiful landscape of Rancho La Puerta"Taking Care of yourself is your right and your responsibility. If a mother values herself, her children value her. She teaches self-esteem by her example. Her peaceful demeanor communicates love to all who come in contact with her. Knowing when to nurture the self comes with daily mindfulness. Pay attention to your body's signals. Observing your feelings each day, eventually you will be able to take time for yourself before it becomes an angry demand. This enables you to give of yourself appropriately, without resentment."
~The Tao of Motherhood - Vimala McClure
I first heard the above during yoga about a month ago. My wonderful instructor shares these inspirational readings during Shivasna. The timing was perfect as I was getting ready to leave for vacation, without my husband and children. I needed the reassurance that it was OK to take the time for me. The first sentence is my favorite as I was about to exercise my rights as a responsible mother.
I hate that it has taken me so long to share my experience at "The Ranch" with all of you. I arrived home to two very sweet little boys dressed in PJ's and holding "welcome home mama" signs. From that moment on was a whirlwind of playing hostess to Peter's parents and then celebrating my birthday with yet another getaway (I know..poor me!) with just Peter last Friday night. But alas, here I am and here we go!
My mom and I met at the San Diego airport on Friday April 11. We found our way to our hotel and then went out for "The Last Supper". The next day would begin a week of vegetarian fare so we opted for steak at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse in Sand Diego. Yum! The hotel we stayed at was a bit of a mess but we knew it was only for one night. Saturday morning we woke early to eat breakfast and then get ourselves back to the airport to meet the bus that would take us to our week in heaven, otherwise known as Rancho La Puerta.
Without giving you the complete play by play, I will tell you that at this little slice of heaven I spent one of the greatest weeks of my life. "The Ranch" was started by a Professor and his young wife 60 years ago. It has become a mecca for the health conscious and fitness enthusiasts. The Professor is long gone but his lovely bride still owns and make weekly visits to The Ranch where she speaks of the past, present and future of her dream. We missed her the week we were there because she is currently in the process of writing her Memoirs and spends a lot of time away at special writing retreats.
The Ranch is nestled in the mountains of Northern Mexico and is a short 90 minute drive south of San Diego.
The above picture shows Mount Kuchama. Legend has it that a Shaman with great healing powers lived on this mountain hundreds of years ago. The mountain has amazing spiritual powers that would have even the non believers believing. Let me put it to you this way, something moved me to get out of a very comfortable bed every morning at 6:00 am (except for 2 days) for a 3 mile hike. I would then follow that early morning hike with at least 3 and sometimes 4 hours of exercise classes. If that was not the work of some higher force then I don't know what is. All kidding aside, this place makes you feel good. You quickly become someone who wants to exercise and eat healthy; to BE healthy. The food was amazing! The diet is mostly vegetarian with the exception of fish which we were served on a few occasions. The vegetables (and there are plenty of them, so many in fact that a bottle of Beano is considered a condiment in the dining hall) come from an unbelievable organic garden that is part of the Ranch. Here is a picture of me and Fernando, the head gardener, in the garden.
We picked these strawberries for a dish we prepared as part of a cooking class we took at the Cocina de Canta, which is the Cooking School that is part of the Ranch.
When I arrived home everyone asked me "How was the spa? Are you so relaxed?". I was relaxed but it was not for reasons people assumed. When I told my friends that I was going to a fitness spa I think they heard "spa" and figured I would be lounging poolside with a cold adult beverage, being fanned by a cabana boy while getting a massage. While there were plenty of spoils to my week away it was the constant exercise and healthy diet that actually left me feeling energized and relaxed. It was the time spent with my mom, just the two of us that will leave an impression far more lasting than any massage. 
I cried when I left my kids to go on this trip and I cried again when I had to leave my mom and the ranch behind. My week there was unlike anything I could ever properly describe and my experience was one that I hope everyone has the opportunity to have someday. You leave there refreshed, revived and with a whole new appreciation for who you are and who you want to be. I thank my mom so much for giving me the chance to find my "inner exercise demon" and realize that not only is it there but I actually kind of like it. I thank my mom for knowing that I am at a place in my life where not only would I appreciate the time away but I would grow from it and come home a better and happier mom, wife, person.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Gettin' outta Dodge aint no easy task
Despite the fact that I have three million and two things to do before I catch a VERY early flight out of Traverse City tomorrow morning I felt quite compelled to post. I don't have time to do a proper Friday Funnies so I'm going to touch on what's been funny along with what's not been so funny.
I may never leave town again. It's just too hard. And it's not just the guilt that I spoke of in an earlier post. There is a lot to do just to be able to leave for a few days or in my case nine. I'm trying to make my absence as easy as possible on my husband in the sense that I don't expect him to take an entire week off of work so I can go play. So there's the figuring out who will go where and with whom, when. It's a crazy little puzzle that I had finally figured out and had started to feel less anxious about. That is until American Airlines canceled my flight from Chicago to San Diego and I had to be re booked. A big thank you to Liz, the delightful customer relations representative, who was nice enough to find me another flight. The only problem, it leaves tomorrow morning at 6:55 am. This would not be such a big deal except that I had seriously crafted my perfect itinerary when originally booking with American Airlines and had arranged everyone else's day accordingly. So, it was as though Pierson had grabbed hold of my perfect little puzzle and in his words "wrecked" it. I put this on him because he is the puzzle master in our family and I think he has more fun taking it apart than putting it together. There's something quite destructive about that one. All boy.
So, speaking of Pierson, I was on hold with American Airline for a good 25 minutes waiting to speak to my good friend Liz to find out if I was going to be able to get on another flight. My dear little boy came into the kitchen and announced that he wanted to go outside. In my on hold whisper I said "Not now buddy. It's too chilly". He retorted, "I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW AND GO IN MY SANDBOX". More frantic sounding now, I said "Pierson, I need you to go into the other room and wait for me there because mommy is trying to make a very important phone call". He's mad now, "You not speak to me like like that" (glad he's hearing something I say to him). I point my finger toward the living room and say "Go, Pierson. Please go into the other room". Here's where it gets good, he says: "I want you to go away mommy!" to which I calmly reply "I am trying to go away Pierson. I am trying very, very hard to go away!". At this point reduced to his level, I continue: "Hopefully tomorrow mommy will be on an airplane flying very, very far away and you will not need to worry about the way I am speaking to you!". He looked at me and said something about not wanting me to go away and then Liz came on the line and saved us from any further conversation.
Another conversation worth noting was with my husband over dinner last night. It's amazing how one little thing spirals into many and before you know it you end up with something like this:
Me: Hey, I was thinking, If I perish on this trip you will be screwed because my blackberry will go down with me and all of our contacts are in it.
Peter: What? Why would I need your blackberry?
Me: Well..I assume you'd like to call people so they can come to my funeral. Not that there would be a body b/c if there's a plane crash you'd probably just have to have a memorial or something.
Peter: Not necessarily, they usually find body parts and return them to the families.
Me: Ok, well you can take my finger and bury it then. Hey, you'd save on a burial plot because you wouldn't need a full size coffin for just a finger.
Peter: Do you want to be buried in Michigan?
Me: Where else would I want to be buried. I don't want to be buried in Virginia! Actually, I don't know if I really want to be buried.
Peter: Well, that's something you should really probably communicate to me so I know what to do just in case.
Me: I just don't really think you need to come talk to a rock to be able to remember me. I would hope you find other ways to remember me.
Peter: I want at least a rock when I die, even if there's no body because I want to be worshipped.
Mack: Workshop! What workshop?
Me: Ooh..that would be a good thing for you to do with the boys while I'm gone. See if there are any Home Depot workshops going on.
Peter: Yeah, Tim said he and Ben made a flower box.
At that point, I was done. If for some reason I do perish on this trip, at least you will all have this final crazy conversation to remember me and my chaotic mind. Love to you all. My husband may "guest post" while I am gone so check back periodically for updates.
xoxo
I may never leave town again. It's just too hard. And it's not just the guilt that I spoke of in an earlier post. There is a lot to do just to be able to leave for a few days or in my case nine. I'm trying to make my absence as easy as possible on my husband in the sense that I don't expect him to take an entire week off of work so I can go play. So there's the figuring out who will go where and with whom, when. It's a crazy little puzzle that I had finally figured out and had started to feel less anxious about. That is until American Airlines canceled my flight from Chicago to San Diego and I had to be re booked. A big thank you to Liz, the delightful customer relations representative, who was nice enough to find me another flight. The only problem, it leaves tomorrow morning at 6:55 am. This would not be such a big deal except that I had seriously crafted my perfect itinerary when originally booking with American Airlines and had arranged everyone else's day accordingly. So, it was as though Pierson had grabbed hold of my perfect little puzzle and in his words "wrecked" it. I put this on him because he is the puzzle master in our family and I think he has more fun taking it apart than putting it together. There's something quite destructive about that one. All boy.
So, speaking of Pierson, I was on hold with American Airline for a good 25 minutes waiting to speak to my good friend Liz to find out if I was going to be able to get on another flight. My dear little boy came into the kitchen and announced that he wanted to go outside. In my on hold whisper I said "Not now buddy. It's too chilly". He retorted, "I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW AND GO IN MY SANDBOX". More frantic sounding now, I said "Pierson, I need you to go into the other room and wait for me there because mommy is trying to make a very important phone call". He's mad now, "You not speak to me like like that" (glad he's hearing something I say to him). I point my finger toward the living room and say "Go, Pierson. Please go into the other room". Here's where it gets good, he says: "I want you to go away mommy!" to which I calmly reply "I am trying to go away Pierson. I am trying very, very hard to go away!". At this point reduced to his level, I continue: "Hopefully tomorrow mommy will be on an airplane flying very, very far away and you will not need to worry about the way I am speaking to you!". He looked at me and said something about not wanting me to go away and then Liz came on the line and saved us from any further conversation.
Another conversation worth noting was with my husband over dinner last night. It's amazing how one little thing spirals into many and before you know it you end up with something like this:
Me: Hey, I was thinking, If I perish on this trip you will be screwed because my blackberry will go down with me and all of our contacts are in it.
Peter: What? Why would I need your blackberry?
Me: Well..I assume you'd like to call people so they can come to my funeral. Not that there would be a body b/c if there's a plane crash you'd probably just have to have a memorial or something.
Peter: Not necessarily, they usually find body parts and return them to the families.
Me: Ok, well you can take my finger and bury it then. Hey, you'd save on a burial plot because you wouldn't need a full size coffin for just a finger.
Peter: Do you want to be buried in Michigan?
Me: Where else would I want to be buried. I don't want to be buried in Virginia! Actually, I don't know if I really want to be buried.
Peter: Well, that's something you should really probably communicate to me so I know what to do just in case.
Me: I just don't really think you need to come talk to a rock to be able to remember me. I would hope you find other ways to remember me.
Peter: I want at least a rock when I die, even if there's no body because I want to be worshipped.
Mack: Workshop! What workshop?
Me: Ooh..that would be a good thing for you to do with the boys while I'm gone. See if there are any Home Depot workshops going on.
Peter: Yeah, Tim said he and Ben made a flower box.
At that point, I was done. If for some reason I do perish on this trip, at least you will all have this final crazy conversation to remember me and my chaotic mind. Love to you all. My husband may "guest post" while I am gone so check back periodically for updates.
xoxo
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
It's about Everything
My dear friend Rebecca called me last week and before I could even get out Hello I could hear her chuckling. "What's so funny?" I asked. She said, "I just had a major Seinfeld moment". She proceeded to tell me how she just doesn't understand how a tissue, not even big enough to contain the snot from a good nose blow, can multiply into a million pieces in the washer and dryer. Something to ponder, I told her.
If you are reading this and can't relate to the above blip I kindly ask you to go frequent someone else's blog for a little while. You are always welcome to return if you wish but if you can't hang with the Seinfeld references then this is not the post for you. I make a Seinfeld reference daily..or at least several times per week. I have not yet today, unless you consider the story I recounted above. Yesterday it was the Soup Nazi when talking to a friend about the way she was treated at a local lunch spot. Last week it was George's co-workers calling him "Coco" when he went on a rampage and started swinging his arms around like an Ape. How many times have I said "Newman!" in that squinty eyed, Jerry-esque tone when something goes wrong. Seinfeld is everywhere and for a show that touted itself for being about nothing, it's everything.
I cannot properly describe how many times I have told my mom a funny story about the kids or how I handled something having to do with the kids and she regularly retorts "It's like a Seinfeld Episode!". It's so true! I feel like half the time I am living in a Seinfeld episode. How about the day my dog "died" and I told Mack that she was gone only to have her "come back to life" that afternoon. Or the time we went to visit Santa Clause and just before snapping the picture Santa decided to pop out his dentures and scare my son half to death! Yes, that's the same Santa who proceeded to tell Peter about the "Hookers" at the Park Place Hotel back in the day. All of these little stories to tell and remember and they are not "nothing". They are the fibers that weave together to create the beautiful tapestry that is our everything.
If you are reading this and can't relate to the above blip I kindly ask you to go frequent someone else's blog for a little while. You are always welcome to return if you wish but if you can't hang with the Seinfeld references then this is not the post for you. I make a Seinfeld reference daily..or at least several times per week. I have not yet today, unless you consider the story I recounted above. Yesterday it was the Soup Nazi when talking to a friend about the way she was treated at a local lunch spot. Last week it was George's co-workers calling him "Coco" when he went on a rampage and started swinging his arms around like an Ape. How many times have I said "Newman!" in that squinty eyed, Jerry-esque tone when something goes wrong. Seinfeld is everywhere and for a show that touted itself for being about nothing, it's everything.
I cannot properly describe how many times I have told my mom a funny story about the kids or how I handled something having to do with the kids and she regularly retorts "It's like a Seinfeld Episode!". It's so true! I feel like half the time I am living in a Seinfeld episode. How about the day my dog "died" and I told Mack that she was gone only to have her "come back to life" that afternoon. Or the time we went to visit Santa Clause and just before snapping the picture Santa decided to pop out his dentures and scare my son half to death! Yes, that's the same Santa who proceeded to tell Peter about the "Hookers" at the Park Place Hotel back in the day. All of these little stories to tell and remember and they are not "nothing". They are the fibers that weave together to create the beautiful tapestry that is our everything.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Friday Funnies
I took the boys to the library as an exercise in sitting still and being quiet. Mack had the kids librarian on her hands and knees for about 15 minutes searching for a book on the Incredible Hulk and Pierson was too interested in the aquarium with rubber snakes and bugs to be bothered with the likes of books. On our way out the door my purse broke. The handle just snapped and I said, quite calmly I might ad, "Well..it finally happened. Mommy's fake Burberry purse finally broke!". I shrugged my shoulders, gathered my belongings that had fallen out of the purse and forged on. Mack then says to me:
We have started the most enjoyable process of potty training Pierson. So far, big brother Mack is much more interested in the exercises in futility that I have come up with. While Pierson won't sit on the potty he will at least humor me enough to stand on a stool "big boy style" and attempt to go. We have already made up a few songs and tried a few tricks but so far, no dice. I saved a bag of stale Apple Jacks and I throw one in the toilet and tell him to pee on the cereal. He thinks this is funny and likes to talk about it but has yet to actually release pee from his body. Mack on the other hand, boy is his aim improving! I think I found a way to keep those mysterious dried puddles of urine off the back of the toilet. Our other trick is letting Pierson flush his poop after he goes in the diaper. If it's a "flusher" I gingerly "release" it from the diaper into the toilet and from this fun activity came this exchange:
Pierson: Mama, let's flush it!
Me: Ok, buddy come on...let's go flush it.
Pierson: I'll stand over here so it doesn't splash my socks.
Me: Oh..I won't let it splash your socks. It's ok
Mack: I'll flush it! I want to flush it!
Pierson: No! I want to flush it! Me flush it!
Mack and Pierson vie for good flushing position and banter back and forth for a few seconds
Me: Oh, Mack. It's his poop..let him flush it!
Pierson: Yeah, Mack! It's my poop!
Me: Sigh
After returning from a night of swimming at an area hotel Mack announced proudly to dad..
"I even swam in the deep end and I didn't drown!"
Pierson came home from daycare with a scooby doo sticker on his shirt. He loved it and was very sad when he noticed at the dinner table that it was missing.
Pierson: Oh no! My Scooby sticker.
Mom: Uh, oh..it must have come off while we were playing. We will find it.
Mack: Unless we have a fire tonight and it burns up in the fire.
Mom: Mack!! Don't say that. We are not going to have a fire. Don't say that..you'll scare him!
Mack: I'm just sayin'..if we have a fire tonight and it's still missing..it will burn up in the fire. I'm just saying it could happen.
This isn't really as funny as it is alarming. This is SO my child!
That's all folks! Have a great weekend!
xoxo
Mack: Maybe it's time for you to get a new purse.
Me: Oh, no buddy. I have lots of purses at home. It's ok.
Mack: Well I saw one tv that they've come out with this new kind of purse. It's for people who are blind.
Me: (at this point intrigued but also making a mental note to limit his television viewing time) "Really..for people who are blind?"
Mack: Well..not really for people who are blind but for people who can't see things in their purse (mental note #2..review what being blind really means) because it's too messy. It's a new purse to help you be better organized.
Boy, does this kid know me or what! My purse is a nightmare and is in need of some organization.
Me: Oh, no buddy. I have lots of purses at home. It's ok.
Mack: Well I saw one tv that they've come out with this new kind of purse. It's for people who are blind.
Me: (at this point intrigued but also making a mental note to limit his television viewing time) "Really..for people who are blind?"
Mack: Well..not really for people who are blind but for people who can't see things in their purse (mental note #2..review what being blind really means) because it's too messy. It's a new purse to help you be better organized.
Boy, does this kid know me or what! My purse is a nightmare and is in need of some organization.
We have started the most enjoyable process of potty training Pierson. So far, big brother Mack is much more interested in the exercises in futility that I have come up with. While Pierson won't sit on the potty he will at least humor me enough to stand on a stool "big boy style" and attempt to go. We have already made up a few songs and tried a few tricks but so far, no dice. I saved a bag of stale Apple Jacks and I throw one in the toilet and tell him to pee on the cereal. He thinks this is funny and likes to talk about it but has yet to actually release pee from his body. Mack on the other hand, boy is his aim improving! I think I found a way to keep those mysterious dried puddles of urine off the back of the toilet. Our other trick is letting Pierson flush his poop after he goes in the diaper. If it's a "flusher" I gingerly "release" it from the diaper into the toilet and from this fun activity came this exchange:
Pierson: Mama, let's flush it!
Me: Ok, buddy come on...let's go flush it.
Pierson: I'll stand over here so it doesn't splash my socks.
Me: Oh..I won't let it splash your socks. It's ok
Mack: I'll flush it! I want to flush it!
Pierson: No! I want to flush it! Me flush it!
Mack and Pierson vie for good flushing position and banter back and forth for a few seconds
Me: Oh, Mack. It's his poop..let him flush it!
Pierson: Yeah, Mack! It's my poop!
Me: Sigh
After returning from a night of swimming at an area hotel Mack announced proudly to dad..
"I even swam in the deep end and I didn't drown!"
Pierson came home from daycare with a scooby doo sticker on his shirt. He loved it and was very sad when he noticed at the dinner table that it was missing.
Pierson: Oh no! My Scooby sticker.
Mom: Uh, oh..it must have come off while we were playing. We will find it.
Mack: Unless we have a fire tonight and it burns up in the fire.
Mom: Mack!! Don't say that. We are not going to have a fire. Don't say that..you'll scare him!
Mack: I'm just sayin'..if we have a fire tonight and it's still missing..it will burn up in the fire. I'm just saying it could happen.
This isn't really as funny as it is alarming. This is SO my child!
That's all folks! Have a great weekend!
xoxo
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Hello Old Friend..Goodbye Productivity
While doing a little spring cleaning I came across a prized possession of mine that I had just recently even noticed I was missing. When I say "missing" what I really mean is I knew it was gone but I hadn't thought about it in years so it was missing but I didn't realize I cared. I pulled a paper shopping bag off the top shelf of our upstairs closet. I peered inside and found a bunch of old photos. As I pulled the photos boxes out of the bag, there it was. I felt like Charlie when he unwrapped the golden ticket. It was my Gameboy, circa 1995.
It was a Christmas gift from Peter the first year we were dating. Now before you vote him off the island for the weirdest Christmas gift to give a girlfriend, let me explain. I was leaving the next day for a family vacation to Mexico. He thought I would have fun playing it on the airplane. He also thought I would need a lot of batteries. When he handed me the box of batteries I noticed another small box attached to them and lo and behold, the boy had bought me a ring! It was a lovely little gold ring with a single ruby in the middle and a small diamond on either side. I loved it! But guess what! I loved that Gameboy even more.
I became an addict. I played it all the time, I even skipped a class once because I had the highest score of my life and there was no way I was turning it off or handing it off to someone else to finish. It went places with me; vacations, trips home to Michigan, doctor's appointments. Sadly, it even escorted me to my graduation from College. I vividly recall sitting there during the commencement ceremony taking turns with another graduate seeing who could get the highest score at Tetris.
Old habits die hard. Since coming back into my life last Saturday, Gameboy and I have rekindled an old flame. Not only did it still work but the batteries were still good. I have picked up where I left off. But now it's different. I'm a mother now. I'm supposed to be using my free time a little more wisely. Take today for example. I was home with both boys and had just put Pierson down for his rest time. I had plans to take Mack to meet up with some friends at a local hotel to swim for a Spring Break treat. He decided to go ahead a little early with Rebecca and her kids so I suddenly found myself alone with a good 2 hours to spare. I got the lunch dishes put into the dishwasher and decided to do a little work on the computer. I finished that and with a good hour and a half to go before I had to get Pierson up and head to the hotel, I decided to jump in the shower. But then I saw it. It was staring at me from the edge of the kitchen counter. I decided to play one game. Before I knew it that one game had turned into God only knows how many but I kept trying to beat my high score and just couldn't put the thing down. 30 minutes later, I was disgusted with myself and finally shut it off. That was 30 minutes I will never get back. I was alone in my house (except for the sleeping child) and had plenty of productive things that could have kept me busy and left me feeling much more satisfied. Like a true addict lured back by temptation, I had hit my low and felt like crap.
Like I said, it's different now. I am a mom. I have no business playing gameboy. Maybe I need to have Peter hide it from me and treat me like the child I become in its presence and only allow me playing privileges when I have been a good girl and earned it. Maybe I can teach Mack how to play Tetris and we can play a two player game and then it will be justified. Maybe I just need to misplace it for another 5 years. I will move on. I will survive. I will find something else to waste my time doing. I have an addictive personality, mostly harmless thank goodness. Ask me about my obsession with scratch off lottery tickets sometime.
It was a Christmas gift from Peter the first year we were dating. Now before you vote him off the island for the weirdest Christmas gift to give a girlfriend, let me explain. I was leaving the next day for a family vacation to Mexico. He thought I would have fun playing it on the airplane. He also thought I would need a lot of batteries. When he handed me the box of batteries I noticed another small box attached to them and lo and behold, the boy had bought me a ring! It was a lovely little gold ring with a single ruby in the middle and a small diamond on either side. I loved it! But guess what! I loved that Gameboy even more.
I became an addict. I played it all the time, I even skipped a class once because I had the highest score of my life and there was no way I was turning it off or handing it off to someone else to finish. It went places with me; vacations, trips home to Michigan, doctor's appointments. Sadly, it even escorted me to my graduation from College. I vividly recall sitting there during the commencement ceremony taking turns with another graduate seeing who could get the highest score at Tetris.
Old habits die hard. Since coming back into my life last Saturday, Gameboy and I have rekindled an old flame. Not only did it still work but the batteries were still good. I have picked up where I left off. But now it's different. I'm a mother now. I'm supposed to be using my free time a little more wisely. Take today for example. I was home with both boys and had just put Pierson down for his rest time. I had plans to take Mack to meet up with some friends at a local hotel to swim for a Spring Break treat. He decided to go ahead a little early with Rebecca and her kids so I suddenly found myself alone with a good 2 hours to spare. I got the lunch dishes put into the dishwasher and decided to do a little work on the computer. I finished that and with a good hour and a half to go before I had to get Pierson up and head to the hotel, I decided to jump in the shower. But then I saw it. It was staring at me from the edge of the kitchen counter. I decided to play one game. Before I knew it that one game had turned into God only knows how many but I kept trying to beat my high score and just couldn't put the thing down. 30 minutes later, I was disgusted with myself and finally shut it off. That was 30 minutes I will never get back. I was alone in my house (except for the sleeping child) and had plenty of productive things that could have kept me busy and left me feeling much more satisfied. Like a true addict lured back by temptation, I had hit my low and felt like crap.
Like I said, it's different now. I am a mom. I have no business playing gameboy. Maybe I need to have Peter hide it from me and treat me like the child I become in its presence and only allow me playing privileges when I have been a good girl and earned it. Maybe I can teach Mack how to play Tetris and we can play a two player game and then it will be justified. Maybe I just need to misplace it for another 5 years. I will move on. I will survive. I will find something else to waste my time doing. I have an addictive personality, mostly harmless thank goodness. Ask me about my obsession with scratch off lottery tickets sometime.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
The Way I'm Wired
I woke up this morning a little late. It's spring break after all and even though I did have to go to work today, I just didn't feel like I was in too much of a hurry to get there. Mack came in around 7:30 armed with two blankets and an armful of his "super hero squad" guys and offered a sweet "Good Morning Mama". We snuggled for a few minutes and I finally got up to put a movie on for him and to get myself to the shower. I walked into the living room and stopped dead in my tracks. Outside my window Mother Nature was playing a nasty little April Fool's joke; It was SNOWING!!! Now I know I have already ranted about the weather in a previous post but come on, it's April now. I could finally see a little patch of what used to be grass in my back yard. That little patch is now covered with a fresh, although thin, layer of snow. I was determined to not let it beat me. I was not going to be dragged down by the site of this. I announced in a rather forced cheerful voice "Oh for heaven's sake..look out there! It's snowing!". Mack, completely unfazed repeated his request for his Spiderman movie.
10 days from now I will be on an airplane heading to Sunny California. I will meet up with my mom in San Diego where we will spend the night, before taking a bus the following morning to the mountains of Northern Mexico and to a fabulous place called Rancho La Puerta. 10 days from now I will on my way to warmth. I will be on my way to a week of health; as much exercise as I want and gourmet "good for you" food cooked for me. 10 days from now I will be on my way to serious Mommy guilt. Now before you say anything, I know it's fine, I know they will all be ok, and I know I deserve this. But all of this "knowing" doesn't make me feel any less guilty about leaving them. It's the way I'm wired. Thankfully, I have a wonderful husband who is a fantastic father and will, no doubt, hold down the fort just fine. This is where the guilt of leaving them turns into something else: the knowledge that things will run just fine in my absence. That they don't need me to operate on a daily basis. I'm a reasonable person though, secure enough in my motherhood, and I know that while they may not "need" me, they do want me and I know they will greet me with open arms upon my return.
This will be a trip to remember for me; a serious memory making adventure for me and my mom. We have not traveled together, just the two of us, since 1996 when we went to Mexico together during my Spring Break from college. Our lives have changed so much since then, mine especially since I am now a wife and mother myself. She has been to Rancho La Puerta before and has dreamed of taking her daughters back with her someday. I could not be more grateful to have the opportunity to visit such a special place but also to visit there with such a special person.
10 days from now I will be on an airplane heading to Sunny California. I will meet up with my mom in San Diego where we will spend the night, before taking a bus the following morning to the mountains of Northern Mexico and to a fabulous place called Rancho La Puerta. 10 days from now I will on my way to warmth. I will be on my way to a week of health; as much exercise as I want and gourmet "good for you" food cooked for me. 10 days from now I will be on my way to serious Mommy guilt. Now before you say anything, I know it's fine, I know they will all be ok, and I know I deserve this. But all of this "knowing" doesn't make me feel any less guilty about leaving them. It's the way I'm wired. Thankfully, I have a wonderful husband who is a fantastic father and will, no doubt, hold down the fort just fine. This is where the guilt of leaving them turns into something else: the knowledge that things will run just fine in my absence. That they don't need me to operate on a daily basis. I'm a reasonable person though, secure enough in my motherhood, and I know that while they may not "need" me, they do want me and I know they will greet me with open arms upon my return.
This will be a trip to remember for me; a serious memory making adventure for me and my mom. We have not traveled together, just the two of us, since 1996 when we went to Mexico together during my Spring Break from college. Our lives have changed so much since then, mine especially since I am now a wife and mother myself. She has been to Rancho La Puerta before and has dreamed of taking her daughters back with her someday. I could not be more grateful to have the opportunity to visit such a special place but also to visit there with such a special person.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Friday Funnies
Anyone with small children knows that at any given moment said small child may say or do something that could potentially cause liquid to come out of your nose due to laughter. On the other hand as parents we usually have to keep a straight face because said child really isn't trying to be funny. And so, I am starting my first weekly "column" of sorts, the Friday Funnies.
Each Friday I will try to post the "best of" the Marinoff boys. Here we go.
Mack and I were on Peter's laptop trying to find a coloring page that would satisfy this 5 year old superhero addict. It doesn't matter that I have looked for "Devildare", whose real name is actually "Daredevil", one million times and there is no such thing as a Daredevil (or devildare) coloring page because normal children have no idea that such a super hero exists. Anyway, I digress. We had been searching for a coloring page for a good half hour and I was beginning to lose my patience. We finally found one (a beaver, no less) when Peter's computer decided to hibernate. Here is the brief exchange that ensued:
Me: Oh, you've got to be kidding me! The computer is going to hibernate!!"
Mack: Until Spring?
I was kneeling down wiping Pierson's face and hands after an incident with a blue Gogurt when he looked at me and said:
Pierson: Hey, you have blue on your eyes!
Me: Yes, that's right! I have blue eyes..just like you!
Pierson: I don't have blue eyes! My eyes are red! (cue him growling at me like the little demon he can be)
Me: Yes, Pierson it would seem that on some days your eyes are in fact red.
After lunch I was putting a "Little Einsteins" (Thank you, Cass) movie on for their pre-rest time viewing pleasure. This is one of only a handful of programs that my children agree upon. While I was getting it ready this witty exchange took place between myself and my oh so smart boy who is oh so desperately trying to read.
Mack: Mama, I know what D-V-D spells.
Me: Really, buddy? What!
Mack: (With a serious look of pride) "DVD!"
Me: Wow..bud. You're really getting there.
Peter came home from work early on Thursday, I mean really early..like 2:00 which is such a rare treat considering he works in Frankfort. I was laying Pierson down for his rest time and apparently Peter and Mack were mixing up a little afternoon treat of chocolate ice cream and peanut butter. I came out and sat down with them while they ate their ice cream and we talked for a while when all of a sudden Mack got up from his chair, pointed at the seat and said:
"Look, I hatched a peanut butter!"
Apparently, he had been sitting like a "mama duck" on the peanut butter and ...well you get the rest.
TGIF!
Each Friday I will try to post the "best of" the Marinoff boys. Here we go.
Mack and I were on Peter's laptop trying to find a coloring page that would satisfy this 5 year old superhero addict. It doesn't matter that I have looked for "Devildare", whose real name is actually "Daredevil", one million times and there is no such thing as a Daredevil (or devildare) coloring page because normal children have no idea that such a super hero exists. Anyway, I digress. We had been searching for a coloring page for a good half hour and I was beginning to lose my patience. We finally found one (a beaver, no less) when Peter's computer decided to hibernate. Here is the brief exchange that ensued:
Me: Oh, you've got to be kidding me! The computer is going to hibernate!!"
Mack: Until Spring?
I was kneeling down wiping Pierson's face and hands after an incident with a blue Gogurt when he looked at me and said:
Pierson: Hey, you have blue on your eyes!
Me: Yes, that's right! I have blue eyes..just like you!
Pierson: I don't have blue eyes! My eyes are red! (cue him growling at me like the little demon he can be)
Me: Yes, Pierson it would seem that on some days your eyes are in fact red.
After lunch I was putting a "Little Einsteins" (Thank you, Cass) movie on for their pre-rest time viewing pleasure. This is one of only a handful of programs that my children agree upon. While I was getting it ready this witty exchange took place between myself and my oh so smart boy who is oh so desperately trying to read.
Mack: Mama, I know what D-V-D spells.
Me: Really, buddy? What!
Mack: (With a serious look of pride) "DVD!"
Me: Wow..bud. You're really getting there.
Peter came home from work early on Thursday, I mean really early..like 2:00 which is such a rare treat considering he works in Frankfort. I was laying Pierson down for his rest time and apparently Peter and Mack were mixing up a little afternoon treat of chocolate ice cream and peanut butter. I came out and sat down with them while they ate their ice cream and we talked for a while when all of a sudden Mack got up from his chair, pointed at the seat and said:
"Look, I hatched a peanut butter!"
Apparently, he had been sitting like a "mama duck" on the peanut butter and ...well you get the rest.
TGIF!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Imagine...
As a child, and even right on up through High School, one of my favorite parts of the day was getting the mail. I never really got anything but every day held the promise that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day that something would come for me. What was I looking for? Sure there were the birthday cards from relatives but those only spanned a 2 or 3 day period during the year. Christmas time was interesting because I figured out somewhere around late elementary school that if a holiday card was addressed to "The Cutler Family", that meant me. I was part of the family. I think it used to drive my mother crazy that I opened a good 75% percent of the Christmas cards that came to our house.
I still love to get the mail. I still don't get much, mostly bills and catalogs but there are a few gems in my mailbox each month. The diamond of the bunch is my Cooking Light. When it arrives I read it cover to cover, sometimes more than once. This amazes my husband. He is a man who reads the Wall Street Journal. I read People and he reads Forbes. He consumes The Economist like a cookie and I consume..well I consume a cookie. We differ so much in our choice of reading material that you can imagine his sheer delight when I pick up his Fortune magazine each time it arrives and I immediately flip to the very last page to read a delightful column written by my boy Stanley Bing. Mr. Bing is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and he writes about everything from his love affair with his blackberry (this is probably why I adore him) to his list of 50 bull***t jobs. From time to time I will peruse the rest of the magazine as well but I never miss one of Stanley Bing's columns. Today I started to read it and was so taken with the first paragraph that I want to share it with you. It read:
"This is the story of a guy named Fred who dared to see himself as something bigger. And because he did - because he was able to take that leap of faith - he made a good thing happen. Those who dare to imagine sometimes get what they want. Those who don't never do."
How great is that? Truer words were never spoken (or written) yet most of us don't even come close to realizing it. Why is it so hard to believe in ourselves? To figure out what it is that we want? I'm as guilty of this as anyone. Sure my life is great. I love being a wife and a mom but I also know that this is not my final destination; my final identity. I want to be known and remembered for more. The problem I find is that I don't know what that "more" is. When I left home for college I intended to major in Psychology. I didn't. What I did instead was get a degree in Journalism. That lasted me for about three years. Then I started having babies and my priorities shifted. I have a job at a very respected company that allows me the flexibility to be home when I need to, and have more time with my kids while they are small, but still bring home a paycheck. Like I said, my life is good, but I do know that someday I will want more. I know I have hidden talents that are simmering deep in my soul just looking for, or waiting for, the opportunity to emerge. I don't want to be that person who sits in her empty nest some day and no longer has her own identity. I love giving myself to my children now but some day when they are gone, I need to make sure there is still enough of me, the individual, left to continue on a path of self respect.
So, how am I going to do that? I don't know if I am any closer to answering that as I near the end of this post than I was when I began but I do know something that I will take from what Stanley Bing wrote. Imagination. We all have one. I spend hours encouraging my children to use theirs. Maybe it's time I start to use mine. Maybe it's time I dare to imagine a little bigger and actually make something happen. Not try to make something happen because as a coworker recently told me, "trying to is lying to". You either do it, or you don't. Maybe I need to be looking in other places for my inspiration. Sometimes the answer to our prayers is right under our nose. Maybe for me, it's in my mailbox. :) I'll keep you posted...
I still love to get the mail. I still don't get much, mostly bills and catalogs but there are a few gems in my mailbox each month. The diamond of the bunch is my Cooking Light. When it arrives I read it cover to cover, sometimes more than once. This amazes my husband. He is a man who reads the Wall Street Journal. I read People and he reads Forbes. He consumes The Economist like a cookie and I consume..well I consume a cookie. We differ so much in our choice of reading material that you can imagine his sheer delight when I pick up his Fortune magazine each time it arrives and I immediately flip to the very last page to read a delightful column written by my boy Stanley Bing. Mr. Bing is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and he writes about everything from his love affair with his blackberry (this is probably why I adore him) to his list of 50 bull***t jobs. From time to time I will peruse the rest of the magazine as well but I never miss one of Stanley Bing's columns. Today I started to read it and was so taken with the first paragraph that I want to share it with you. It read:
"This is the story of a guy named Fred who dared to see himself as something bigger. And because he did - because he was able to take that leap of faith - he made a good thing happen. Those who dare to imagine sometimes get what they want. Those who don't never do."
How great is that? Truer words were never spoken (or written) yet most of us don't even come close to realizing it. Why is it so hard to believe in ourselves? To figure out what it is that we want? I'm as guilty of this as anyone. Sure my life is great. I love being a wife and a mom but I also know that this is not my final destination; my final identity. I want to be known and remembered for more. The problem I find is that I don't know what that "more" is. When I left home for college I intended to major in Psychology. I didn't. What I did instead was get a degree in Journalism. That lasted me for about three years. Then I started having babies and my priorities shifted. I have a job at a very respected company that allows me the flexibility to be home when I need to, and have more time with my kids while they are small, but still bring home a paycheck. Like I said, my life is good, but I do know that someday I will want more. I know I have hidden talents that are simmering deep in my soul just looking for, or waiting for, the opportunity to emerge. I don't want to be that person who sits in her empty nest some day and no longer has her own identity. I love giving myself to my children now but some day when they are gone, I need to make sure there is still enough of me, the individual, left to continue on a path of self respect.
So, how am I going to do that? I don't know if I am any closer to answering that as I near the end of this post than I was when I began but I do know something that I will take from what Stanley Bing wrote. Imagination. We all have one. I spend hours encouraging my children to use theirs. Maybe it's time I start to use mine. Maybe it's time I dare to imagine a little bigger and actually make something happen. Not try to make something happen because as a coworker recently told me, "trying to is lying to". You either do it, or you don't. Maybe I need to be looking in other places for my inspiration. Sometimes the answer to our prayers is right under our nose. Maybe for me, it's in my mailbox. :) I'll keep you posted...
Monday, March 24, 2008
Shivasnaavocado
A few people have asked me why I decided to start a blog. I found it difficult to form a good response to this question because I guess I wasn't totally sure myself. Part of me wanted to do it so I could share little stories and photos of my kids. Part of me liked the idea of using my brain a little more and attempting to form a complete sentence. And then, when I least expected it, something happened to me at yoga last week that put everything into perspective for me.
It was the end of the 90 minute class and I was laying on my mat during Shivasna. For those of you who are not familiar with yoga, shivasna is where we lay down and practice deep, meaningful breathing and are supposed to clear our mind of everything. We are supposed to focus simply on our breathing and nothing else. Typically I am pretty good at this. In fact, it may be my favorite part of yoga because it's really the only time I have in my life to make sure I'm remembering to breathe at all. On this particular day I was struggling to focus. Perhaps it was our sub teacher who at close to 70 years old was in better shape than I could ever hope to be and was a little more militant in her teachings than our regular instructor. I was laying there trying to focus on my breathing when all of a sudden I realized I wanted an avocado. I wanted one really bad. And then the thought process took over and away it went. Within the next 26 seconds I thought (try to stay with me here):
I want an avocado
I want to stop at Meijer on my way home and get an avocado but I can't because my friend (who drove with me) needs to be home by 11:30 and there's no way we'd make it.
Maybe if I run in and try to pay for it at Starbucks. No, Starbucks really isn't part of Meijer, it's just inside of Meijer.
Wow..Meijer has a lot of produce and who the heck does the inventory for Meijer and how long would that take?
What would happen if Meijer burned down? The other grocery stores in town would be really busy trying to keep up with the demand.
Kristin, focus! Shame on you, you are not supposed to be thinking about anything right now! What is wrong with you?
When I later relayed this to my brother (who also does yoga) he said "Uh, huh..and?". I asked him if he thought this was strange that I was thinking of an avocado (and all the rest) when I was not supposed to be thinking about anything. He said "you were probably thinking about an avocado because it has that big seed, like a core and you were focusing on breathing and your core". Um, no Ryan, I was thinking about an avocado sliced and stuffed in a tortilla with some turkey and tomato.
So maybe you see where I am going with this and maybe you are very confused but the reality that came from this experience for me was that I need an outlet to let my thought processes go wild. My brain works at an alarming rate and before I know it I have woven this ridiculous web of chaos inside my mind and it needs somewhere to go. So, maybe this will be the last time you visit my blog or maybe you're just getting started because let me tell you, I'm just getting started. I have a lot to say. Stay tuned...and don't forget to breathe.
It was the end of the 90 minute class and I was laying on my mat during Shivasna. For those of you who are not familiar with yoga, shivasna is where we lay down and practice deep, meaningful breathing and are supposed to clear our mind of everything. We are supposed to focus simply on our breathing and nothing else. Typically I am pretty good at this. In fact, it may be my favorite part of yoga because it's really the only time I have in my life to make sure I'm remembering to breathe at all. On this particular day I was struggling to focus. Perhaps it was our sub teacher who at close to 70 years old was in better shape than I could ever hope to be and was a little more militant in her teachings than our regular instructor. I was laying there trying to focus on my breathing when all of a sudden I realized I wanted an avocado. I wanted one really bad. And then the thought process took over and away it went. Within the next 26 seconds I thought (try to stay with me here):
I want an avocado
I want to stop at Meijer on my way home and get an avocado but I can't because my friend (who drove with me) needs to be home by 11:30 and there's no way we'd make it.
Maybe if I run in and try to pay for it at Starbucks. No, Starbucks really isn't part of Meijer, it's just inside of Meijer.
Wow..Meijer has a lot of produce and who the heck does the inventory for Meijer and how long would that take?
What would happen if Meijer burned down? The other grocery stores in town would be really busy trying to keep up with the demand.
Kristin, focus! Shame on you, you are not supposed to be thinking about anything right now! What is wrong with you?
When I later relayed this to my brother (who also does yoga) he said "Uh, huh..and?". I asked him if he thought this was strange that I was thinking of an avocado (and all the rest) when I was not supposed to be thinking about anything. He said "you were probably thinking about an avocado because it has that big seed, like a core and you were focusing on breathing and your core". Um, no Ryan, I was thinking about an avocado sliced and stuffed in a tortilla with some turkey and tomato.
So maybe you see where I am going with this and maybe you are very confused but the reality that came from this experience for me was that I need an outlet to let my thought processes go wild. My brain works at an alarming rate and before I know it I have woven this ridiculous web of chaos inside my mind and it needs somewhere to go. So, maybe this will be the last time you visit my blog or maybe you're just getting started because let me tell you, I'm just getting started. I have a lot to say. Stay tuned...and don't forget to breathe.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Here comes Peter Cottontail...
Happy Easter!
I have so many things I want to write about but I also seem to have developed a bit of a head cold and I can't stop wiping my nose long enough to do more than post a couple quick Easter shots from today.
This is what an Easter Egg hunt looks like in Northern Michigan when Easter falls on the 23rd day of March!
All bundled up with buddies Ryan and Megan
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Excuse me, Could I please have some Spring?
Cabin Fever. Stir Crazy. Oh My God! These are very common words out of my mouth these days. Today is March 20th, the first day of spring and while I'm sure that this is true somewhere, I'm looking out my window at a yard full of snow and a thermometer that says 30. A month ago I found myself saying to strangers in the supermarket, "Isn't it great to see the sun! It doesn't even matter how cold it is...as long as there is sun". Then, two weeks ago I could be heard saying "Just imagine how great it will be when we get back in the 30's. 30 will actual feel warm compared to this!" Well guess what? It's 30 and it's cold and I'm crabby.
Mack and I just finished filling little plastic Easter eggs with goodies for an Easter egg hunt that we were invited to take part in on Sunday morning. I bought the boys the cutest little Easter outfits this year with great hopes of having plenty of Kodak moments of them carrying their blue satin trimmed wicker baskets in a race to collect the most eggs. Instead I now know I will get to see them in the same dingy snowsuits I've been looking at all winter and they'll probably still have their jammies on underneath. In my crankiness I'll probably give them plastic Target bags instead of the baskets to collect their Easter eggs with. Ok, so that's not true but it tells you my frame of mind right now. I'll be sure to post some pictures on Sunday so those of you living where spring has actually sprung can see what I'm talking about.
We choose to live here. Sometimes I need to be reminded why. The best reminder usually comes on that first perfect late spring/early summer day when the sky is the bluest blue you can imagine and there is not a cloud to be found. When the breeze is warm and you invite it to blow across your face. When you know that hot dogs and potato salad are what's for dinner and that there will be a long walk around the "circle" with the whole family, and probably half of the neighborhood, before settling down for the night. When bedtime whispers turn to talk about what we'll do tomorrow knowing that there are more options than there is time. We live here because it's home.
Mack and I just finished filling little plastic Easter eggs with goodies for an Easter egg hunt that we were invited to take part in on Sunday morning. I bought the boys the cutest little Easter outfits this year with great hopes of having plenty of Kodak moments of them carrying their blue satin trimmed wicker baskets in a race to collect the most eggs. Instead I now know I will get to see them in the same dingy snowsuits I've been looking at all winter and they'll probably still have their jammies on underneath. In my crankiness I'll probably give them plastic Target bags instead of the baskets to collect their Easter eggs with. Ok, so that's not true but it tells you my frame of mind right now. I'll be sure to post some pictures on Sunday so those of you living where spring has actually sprung can see what I'm talking about.
We choose to live here. Sometimes I need to be reminded why. The best reminder usually comes on that first perfect late spring/early summer day when the sky is the bluest blue you can imagine and there is not a cloud to be found. When the breeze is warm and you invite it to blow across your face. When you know that hot dogs and potato salad are what's for dinner and that there will be a long walk around the "circle" with the whole family, and probably half of the neighborhood, before settling down for the night. When bedtime whispers turn to talk about what we'll do tomorrow knowing that there are more options than there is time. We live here because it's home.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
What's in a name?
Year's ago when I started my cookie business I contemplated naming it "Just Desserts". When I ran the name by a dear friend who I considered to be quite intelligent and worldly she responded with a blank stare and said she didn't get it. I was sure I had heard this expression many times before and thought I could put my own spin on it's meaning and that if I branched out from doing "just cookies" (which didn't have the same ring) and took on other desserts as well , then I surely had the perfect name figured out. Clearly I was over thinking the name thing and settled, simply, on "Kristin's Kookies".
Today I decided to start a blog. I knew right away that I wanted to call it "Just Desserts". This time around the meaning wasn't strictly of the edible nature. Just Desserts means getting what you deserve. When I was thinking in terms of cookies I was thinking a reward; go ahead and reward yourself, you deserve it..your just desserts. Perfect right? I thought so too. So I researched the literary meaning of Just Desserts and here is what I found (pay attention) :
The noun "desert" (accent on the first syllable) is generally used to refer to an arid, barren expanse of land; the noun "dessert" (accent on the second syllable) is a sweet course or dish usually served at the end of a meal. However, the word "desert" -- when spelled like the former but pronounced like the latter -- also refers to a deserved reward or punishment. Therefore, someone who does wrong and is punished in a suitable manner has received his "just deserts." Many people, unfamiliar with the "reward or punishment" meaning of the word "desert," mistakenly assume that the phrase "just deserts" is properly spelled "just desserts" because of its pronunciation. (The usual reasoning is that a dessert is a type of reward one is given at the end of a meal, so someone who receives suitable rewards or punishments for his actions has gotten his "just desserts.")
Did you get all that? Nothing like starting off on the wrong foot with misspellings..in the title of the blog for Pete's sake. But I will stand by my original spelling since I do have the cookie thing going for me. Now my intention with this name is certainly not meant to be negative. I would never say to someone "you got what you deserve!" That's a little bit like saying "I told you so" and I make it a rule not to go there either. However I do firmly believe that when making choices, no matter how big or small, we must be accountable for our actions. It's something I drill into my five year old almost on a daily basis. Every day when I drop him off at school the last thing I say to him before he marches off to take on his day is "Love you buddy, make good choices today". At the end of the day that's what it's all about isn't it? Making good choices. Doing the right thing. Life rewards us when we do the right thing. It doesn't always seem that way and sometimes it takes a while to really get our Just Desserts but there's a little something called Karma and I choose to believe in it. These rewards that life sends our way appear in strange ways. Sometimes it's just a smile or gesture or even a spoken Thank You for a deed well done. Sometimes it's the ability to stop and take a deep breath and realize that you are strong enough to take the high road and not let the little things get to you. Because when you do sweat the small stuff then you deserve the strife it brings you. Let it go. You have a choice. Make it a good one..and when in doubt, eat a cookie.
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