Monday, September 28, 2009

progress. . .


Right now, I hear the rain tip tapping on the living room window. . .and I am reminded [again] that it's time to take out the air conditioners, because fall is officially here. . .

Jack and I stood at the bus stop [can you officially call it that if it's right outside your doorstep?] this morning watching small yellow leaves fly with the wind. The Mama in me made him wear a jacket this morning. . .but thought better of it while standing outside. . .it's still a little warm, I said. Maybe you didn't need a jacket this morning. He smile, That means the jacket is working. So wise. . .

A busy weekend. But so happy. Making happy house progress. . . The kind that leaves you comatose by evening. . . eating dinner at 8 o'clock. . . and sleeping like a stone through the night. Bone weary happy.

A lovely pile outside for the garbage men this morning [although they may think differently. . .sorry, garbage guys]. After a whirlwind cleaning in the basement. Making room. Not just the shuffeling of stuff, but actually simplifying. . .and making space for our newest Zeli.

Sam has a new work area. . . and we made space to store furniture in the basement temporarily.

Cleaned out Lukey's room to make room for his big boy bed (coming next week. . .yay!). Moving around his train table and giving him more floor space. Moved out the rocking chair for the baby's room. . .

Cleaned out the coffee room. . .which can unofficially be called the nursery. This morning Sam left the little Christmas story leg lamp on for me to see. . .it really is starting to look like a nursery. I'm starting to see it in my mind. . . the rocking chair beside the window, so I can sit during the sleepy night feedings and watch the snowflakes fly. . . and hoping to find a tiny table to put beside it. . . the crib next to the radiator. . . and maybe, maybe room for a changing table (fingers crossed). So a trip to St. Vincent DePaul's is planned for tomorrow. . .I have sweet little vintage pieces in my mind's eye (coffee table, bedside table for Luke, and tiny table next to baby's rocking chair). . . Just need to work out the details. . . those sweet little details that will make the room truly his.

Feeling happy, content.

Wishing we could just stay inside today. . .and drink hot tea. . .cuddle on the couch and finish baby's blanket (two rows to go!).

But little Luke is looking forward to school today. . . so I will grocery shop. . . and dream. . .

Saturday, September 26, 2009

tonight. . .

We reminisced about a little boy who stumbled across the entry way to his Dada. . . from the gossip bench to the piano bench. . . walking for the first time, trying to reach the apple in his Dada's hand. . .


And tonight, for the first time, he put on a pair of ice skates. . . learning to keep his balance. . . and get up when he fell. . . learning to play ice hockey.


So proud to watch him. . . at first holding onto the side rails [for dear life]. . . and then learning to pick himself up when he fell. . .


And in 45 minutes, he was crossing the ice rink alone. . . sometimes wobbling. . . but finding his way. . . smiling. . . turning slow bends around people in his way. . .


Where did that little tiny guy go?

Thursday, September 24, 2009

the tale of the purple stop signs

Luke's first snack day at Preschool yesterday. . . I remember when Jack attended Preschool, all snacks were to be "healthy". . . and I agonized each month about what to send. Goldfish crackers. . .bananas. . .oatmeal raisin cookies. . . Things I knew he loved (ie: things he would eat and still be considered "healthy").

So, I didn't expect anything different this year. Knowing that Luke's palate at this age is infinitely smaller than Jack's, I prepared myself for heartburn, heartache, and sleepless nights. . . Until, that is, I asked Luke each day what he was having for snack. . .

Monday: Lukey what did you have for snack today?
Cupcakes.

Wednesday: Lukey, what did you have for snack today?
Chocolate.

Friday: Luke, what was for snack today?
Cookies.

Most days, cupcakes. Much to my Mama Disbelief. That is, until I saw another snack mom bringing cupcakes to the door on Monday. Hmmmm.....

I was going to go with the oatmeal raisin cookie thing. Still a cookie, and kinda healthy too. Until, inspiration struck, that is. . .And the creative cook in me whispered sugar cookies. . . .shaped like his beloved stop signs. . .

Ah, kudo mama points for sure. . .

So, after I sent Sam to work Wednesday morning, I got busy with the sugar cookie mix. . . the house smelled like Christmas. . . and I dreamed of little Luke's smiles at the sight of them . . .


Until . . . I went to the spice rack to get some red food coloring, and found it empty. Empty? Really? How is that possible?


So, with no time left to spare, this Mama had to improvise. . . It was either the neon pink or the fallish purple/cranberry. . . And I thought, Cranberry, well how close to red can you get?

Until I mixed it and realized the cranberry lid deceived me, and it was indeed purple.


So, my happy little Luke brought purple stop sign cookies to school for his snack day yesterday.


He didn't care. They are stop signs after all. . .

Friday, September 18, 2009

sweet sixteen. . .

Sixteen years ago today. . .was a sunny, bright blue sky day, much like today. . .
A magical day. . .


The day I married my best friend. . .


We were both right out of college. . . I was working at a grocery store to save money for our wedding (and pay for my very first car, the might grey Plymouth Horizon). . .and Sam had just started working for Westinghouse as an engineer.



We rented a little townhouse as our first place (to move into when we got back from our Honeymoon). . .


And I had no idea what I was doing. . . how to be a wife or take care of a house or manage a life. . . And I kept asking him, But what do I have to do to be your wife? Because no one really ever told me. . . And I had never been on my own before. . . And I was afraid I was going to get it all wrong. . .



And he told me, Just be you. Because that would be enough.



And here we are, sixteen years later. . . With our own home, three (almost) boys, two dogs. . . And a life. . . A beautiful, wonderful, happily ever after life.


That little girl in the big white dress would never had imagined or even dreamed of a life like this: a house full of love. . .unending, strong, secure love. . . a place to find myself, be myself, and grow. . . a place where squirrels run across the swingset and tomatoes grow for little hands to pick. . . a place where deer eat apples from our tree right outside my kitchen window. . . and voices are loud, and laughter is louder. . . finding a way in this world, really exploring it. . . big places, and out of the country places, and small interesting little nooks I would have never seen with those young, scared eyes. . . finding my way. . . things that I love, like cooking and taking pictures and making things with my hands. . . finding our way and who we could become, so much stronger together. . .



The little advice that I did receive before our wedding was that marriage was hard. A struggle the first year. A struggle to find out who was in charge. And I could only shake my head. And wonder. In charge? Really? Wasn't marriage about sharing? A partnership. And maybe we are different. . .but there has never been a person in charge in this relationship.


Back then I only had a wish that we could be together, Sam and I. . .every day. . . because together was when I felt the most happy, the most alive. I couldn't see beyond that. Just us. In our little happy place.



And I would have never dreamed where that road together would bring us. Or that happily ever after could mean so much more.




Thank you, my buddy, for sixteen beautiful, perfect years. Beyond my imagining. . .


I can only imagine what adventures we might have during the next sixteen. . .

Friday, September 11, 2009

Friday moments. . .


Off to see the OB this morning after getting Jack on the bus. . .


With little Luke gabbing away in the backseat. . .asking about the baby in my belly. Is it a big baby?


Yep. And how about your baby is it a big baby?


Yes.


Is it a boy baby or a girl baby?


A girl baby.


He delighted all the girls in the OB office with tales of the baby in his belly. And requested (read: demanded) his usual acka-marine lollipop as we left.


Was wonderful to have Sam come with us today. We took the car to be inspected. Looked at a Honda Pilot and Honda-something minivan. . . Comfortable. . .and Roomy. . .and tank-like all at the same time.


Took Lukey to preschool and had a wonderful lunch date. . .our first of many in the next few months. Wonderful. Coffee. And future planning. . .


And naming woes. Finding just the right name seems like such a huge responsibility. So far. . .

Theo

Vin (for Vincent)

Drew (for Andrew)

Calvin (just love that little Calvin and Hobbes. . .so much our boys)

and for some reason I like Finn (for Finnegan)

and although it is on the highly unlikely list, Bodhi (for the infamous Point Break surfer. . .love that it means wisdom. . .because I am convinced that this baby is an old soul. . .)

and a few others I am forgetting. . .

But nothing that just jumps out and says Pick me! Pick me! So, the hunt continues.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

where babies come from .. .. ..

As you know, Jack's best thought-provoking, gut-wrenching questions come at bedtime. . .when Sam is otherwise busy with something else. . . and it's just Mama left to stammer and stutter and reveal the darkest secrets of the world.

We've already had the how will the baby come out of your belly, Mama talk. Revealing that the baby will indeed come out of Mama's wiener which is much different from a boy's wiener (sorry, just can't bring myself to get more technical with the body names).

So, last night, Jack told me that he was ready for me to Pee the baby out, right now, Mama. Interesting as that sounds, I told him that the baby was not ready yet, and it was a little more complicated than just peeing the baby out.

Well it comes out of your wiener, right?

Well, yeah.

How?

Well, there's a hole there.

Can boys have babies?

No. Boys and girls bodies are different. And just girls' bodies are made for having babies.

Why? My wiener has a hole.

Yes it does.

Isn't it big enough?

No, not quite.

Well, I wish this boy could have a baby. Unless it hurts. Does it hurt to have a baby?

Oh yes, it hurts.

Well then I don't want to have a baby.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

highlights of the week. . .

Jack telling me to open my arms wide. . .and rushing at me with a big (and unprompted) hug.

The baby in Luke's belly. . . [apparently, there is no baby in my belly]. . . who plays with toys. . . who was sleeping last night as we got Luke ready for bed. . . and who was climbing the stairs in his belly this morning. . .

Finding the perfect bedding for baby boy's room. . . (and getting a coupon at the register from an extra nice cashier). . . .

Celebrating our favorite Zeli's birthday weekend. . .

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

this early afternoon. . .

You came to me as this song played on the computer. . . .

[The Honey Tree, by The Mostar Diving Club]

bopping your head, happily. . . and so, we danced and bounced and twirled in the middle of the dining room. Just you and I. . .