So it's the end of the year, and I miss my blog here. I miss sinking into a chair during naptime and catching up with my good old friends. I miss doing things because I enjoy them, as it seems my life has become dominated by a to-do list and practicality. And for some reason, Fly lately has been telling me, "I miss you."
Maybe that's why recently I've been craving beauty and art.
And I'd like a side of order.
I look around my house and see the clutter of toys and Christmas packages and stuff JP has left out because he, too, has become stretched and straightening up isn't a priority around our house.
Not beautiful.
I grab a handful of baby fat at my waist and fear that jowls are sneaking up on me.
Not beautiful.
I wake up groggy after five hours of broken sleep, and brace myself for what new three-year-old defiance Fly will hurl at me this day.
Not beautiful.
But I remind myself that this is beauty.
And this is art.
Maybe order will come in time, but until then I will just try to go back to my mantra, "A mama needs to have more fun."
I know I am participating in it -- and time often creeps slowly toward naptime -- but it still seems life is taking us for a ride instead of us being in control.
It sometimes seems like too much work and not enough play time. But when we get down to the business of playing, we really play.
Fly is starting to differentiate among kids his age and prefer some over others -- he is making friends. Preschool is going great. His favorite subject? Digging in the sand.
The Bug is suddenly four months old. He is already teething, as his big brother Fly got his first teeth at four months. He takes everything in and rarely complains. It was about this time last year we knew he was on his way.
Now there are just two months left in the year, so I'm trying to hold onto every day because I know they will never be this small again and I don't want my memories to get blurry.
Scenic Route stamp by Scrap Girls, Refresh frame by Scrap Girls, Scrapping Sisters word art
Halloween Show kit by Digiscrapbooking.ch, Digi-Designs by Nicole frame
And there's that wild creature who's always being loud and accidentally-on-purpose bumping into a tiny person. On a rare occasion, he sits down for a picosecond.
(Another photo by the fab Jennifer.)
You also have no control over what you're wearing.
Or how you're worn.
(Experimenting with a mei tai -- made by the lovely and beautiful Bloggy Mama -- for the first time.)
But in general, at two months, life is pretty good.
As I reflect on the past week and the simple joys it brought, I find I am still amazed at this little boy who wasn't even a being three years ago. There was no child in our house for almost 12 years, and then he appeared "from a little dust and a little rain."
And it's going to happen again, next month -- a baby born out of a miracle, out of love.
I feel guilty on the days I am too tired or sick or achy or pregnant to play with Fly the way he deserves. But I'm thankful for days when I have the energy to do fun things with him.
Splash!
I feel guilty for not blogging or reading blogs because I just can't, but then I remind myself, once again, this is supposed to be fun and not another chore hanging over my head.
So I take whatever I can get out of each day, and go with that. Each day is a blessing, and you can't get a more simple joy than that.
- I can't seem to find a quarter of the things on my list when I go to a store lately. Not just food shopping, but places like Target or the craft store. I'm not looking for hard-to-find items. Has the recession made stores stop carrying stuff? I guess we'll know when people start fighting over the last package of toilet paper (er, "bathroom tissue" if you're fancy).
- My health insurance company asked me to enroll in a healthy-pregnancy program that would give me access to a nurse on the phone around the clock. It sounded good until they kept calling and leaving messages, and then when I would return the calls and be on hold for three minutes, I'd hang up. And the process would start over again. When I actually got to talk to someone to find out what they wanted, it was a guy asking me questions about very private parts, and I told him I wanted out of the program. Two weeks later, they sent me a $50 gift card and a guidebook to pregnancy. I hurried and spent the money before they realized what had happened . . . .
- Related to that, I am running out of patience lately. Or at least, I don't seem to have a great tolerance for Fly's shenanigans. The past few days of terrible-two behavior have had me greatly stressing. And I had myself a little meltdown yesterday. JP was there for me. He came home early and told me to get out of the house for a little while. I love him. Marriage definitely has its perks. He didn't even blink when I told him I'd send him a postcard.
- By the way, does anyone know how to get a two-and-a-half-year-old to listen and do what he's told?
- Specifically, not to run away from me and make me chase him and then carry him bodily back to where he needs to be? My pregnant body just isn't up for that anymore. This is how fast I have to run to catch up to him:
- And because today is Take Your Child to Work Day, I think it would be a splendid idea for JP to do just that.
- A friend told me crushed Cap'n Crunch cereal was good to coat chicken with before you bake it. Another friend said wheat germ was good too. So I bought both. Guess which one I've already had two bowls full of?
- Speaking of Cap'n Crunch, have you looked at the box lately? Doesn't it seem as though the company has "Sponge Bob-ized" the look of all the characters? Everyone looks stark raving mad.
- I am thinking about getting my hair cut. As in, seriously shortened. I've had short hair three times in my life. See my blog header? My hair isn't that long. But it has been. However, I just don't have time for it. Or patience. (See above.) And when the baby comes, it will probably look like a rat's nest unless I cut it to a length I can maintain because it is inhumanely thick (I get it thinned once or twice a year) and curly (but not in a good way). I just do not want to turn my hair into a hobby.
- So what's a good style for a hexagon-shaped face?
- We were going to go away this weekend to use tickets to a water theme park we bought before the Junebug came into being. Now we have about a month to use the tickets before they expire, and I am forbidden from going down any water slides while pregnant even though it is one of the most fun things to do in the world. (Yes, I am 11 years old.) Our plan was to drive there Friday night, play in the water on Saturday and come home Sunday. But we had to buy a new water heater unexpectedly. And a car-repair bill cost about 40% more than estimated. Now our dishwasher is broken. And we have to pay the doula. So two nights at a hotel would be financially irresponsible. If I could just talk JP into driving there and back on the same day, then we wouldn't need a hotel . . . .
- Actually, it might be easier to talk myself out of thinking it would be fun to heft my big, lazy body around a place where a bunch of skinny people were walking around and having a great time on the water slides. ("That should be me . . . sob!") Yeah, maybe not the best way to spend a Saturday.
Being knocked flat on your fanny for more than a week by some microorganisms sure has a way of putting things into perspective. It's hard to be thankful for the simple joys in life when you are suffering in misery.
But then, I should know how small creatures can take over your life.
In the case of Fly and the little Junebug, a full-on life invasion is a good thing -- and I'm thankful.
To join Heather at Cool Zebras for Simply Joy Sunday, can I just say how happy and relieved I am when I pass this aisle in the supermarket?
For months, I'd face this part of the store once or twice a week and wonder if I would ever have a need again to take a pregnancy test. It would just make me want a baby even more. That maternal need for a baby really messes with your head.
And now, I'm expecting a baby. And our family (well, most of our family) is so happy.
It's the end of the day, and I almost don't want this day to end. There was just something magical about today and how Fly and I related to each other.
It wasn't that he didn't misbehave. But Fly did actually listen to me today. It probably helps that he is speaking more in real sentences now.
Fly seemed unusually contented. He sang songs with me while we waited in line at the store. He pointed out all the red lights, green lights and yellow lights as we drove in the car. Fly ate plenty at lunch. Then he patiently (!) waited for me to clean up afterward so we could play outside -- for an hour. He napped without a fight. He read some word cards. Fly even tried two new foods at dinner. He didn't want to go to bed tonight -- he wanted to stay up and sing songs with me. But I put on some music for him to listen to while he fell asleep.
I know better than to expect Fly will be the same tomorrow. He is ever growing and changing. There are hardly two days alike for him. And that makes today's magic even more fleeting and sweet.
In these days when I alternate between sleeplessness and not having the chance to sleep enough ... when I look forward to meeting my baby for the first time while wishing I had more time until the baby arrives ... when I feel young while acting as Fly's playmate but old while enforcing the rules ... when I express thanks for the life JP and I have been blessed with yet still feel there should be more ... I know there is joy in the paradox.
Like a boy who runs so fast he seemingly levitates.
A stolen solitary moment to dream, scheme and visualize despite my lack of energy to do anything about it.
Realizing how colorful life really is, while often feeling drab myself.
And enjoying the beauty of small things that are, collectively, rather grand.
Heather at Cool Zebras is celebrating "the little things in life that bring me joy and happiness" with her Simply Joy Sundays. I thought this was a cool idea, especially because I've noticed a theme of sorts in my life this week -- little references here and there in real life and also the overall desire to live in the present moment -- as well as an invitation to join the Grace in Small Things social network.
This week, I've been happy to have been asked to play with one of the cutest little boys in the whole world.
I've enjoyed the furrypurryness of our cats, including this one who wanted to sleep on top of me last night.
I am thankful for quiet, deserted beaches . . . (even if it was too darn cold to do anything but shuffle around in the sand for a few minutes)
Telling a two-year-old that the mini Christmas tree that was in his room for a month is now being put away until next Christmas isn't easy.
OK, telling him is easy, but enduring the fallout from telling him isn't.
Last weekend, JP I and tackled putting away our holiday decorations. I told him if he would just bring our plastic storage totes down from the attic, I'd put it all away -- the trees (the main big one and the two little ones), the lights, the ornaments, the stockings, the snow globes, the manger scenes, the nesting wooden Santa dolls, the doorknob hangers, the wreath, the pine jingle bells decoration. The everything. (OK -- believe it or not, that wasn't everything. There were a lot of decorations we never put out.)
JP took pity and me and took down the big tree by himself.
And he helped me put the rest of the decorations in the storage totes. They've gone up in the attic until next Christmas, much to Fly's confusion.
It's a new year, and it feels good to pack up and put away. (Like going through my stash of baby things and deciding to turn them into a giveaway that ends tomorrow. Or cleaning out the spare room for my baby and finding 53 framed pictures for the walls, 6 empty frames, two mirrors and a corkboard. Clearly, JP and I have wall art issues. But that's for another post.)
But, wait! Darn, I forgot all the snow globes are still sitting on my dresser. And I found two little ornaments of Fly's tree in his room buried under all the new Christmas presents he got from family.
So our holiday pack-up system isn't perfect.
My guess is those snow globes will sit on my dresser until at least March.
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The Parent Bloggers Network and Right@Home are asking how bloggers clean up after the holidays. Because Right@Home is full of homecare articles about cleaning and other things, maybe they will at least give me an E for effort.
This blog has sunk to amazing new lows. I'm about to ramble about Teletubbies. If you don't want to read it, please scroll down and watch my video. Or don't. Thanks!
I've mentioned before that Fly loves Teletubbies.
I didn't mean for it to happen. It was an accident. One afternoon when he wouldn't sleep, I sat down in frustration and turned on PBS, for lack of anything better in mind to do with a cranky, non-sleeping child. Teletubbies happened to be on, and he laughed and jumped in glee like I had never seen him do before.
Huh? My kid loves Teletubbies?!
(My friend Guinevere said if I gave Fly a Teletubbies-themed birthday party, she would mock us for all eternity. But she didn't have to worry.)
Since then, I have seen enough Teletubbies to write a thesis on them. But don't worry -- I won't write the whole thing here. Basically, I believe there are four of them because personality type experts say there are four basic personality types, which the Teletubbies personify. There are two boys (Tinky Winky and Dipsy) and two girls (Laa Laa and Po). Tinky Winky and Laa Laa display more feminine traits; Dipsy and Po are portrayed as more masculine. They live together in a Uptopian community, but they don't have parents -- which is distressing -- anyway.... I'm still working on my thesis. But you get the idea. Or not.
It doesn't matter whether you get it, because after all, it is just Teletubbies, and they have gone off the air where we live as of three weeks ago, and who cares what I think anyway?
Because it's I See What You're Saying Day (which I have probably failed already by writing so much), here is a video for your entertainment.
I think I'm ready to enter the Sundance Film Festival now.
At 2:30 in the morning, I still couldn't sleep because I was thinking about how so many children have disappeared and gone missing.
I suppose I was overly tired and my mind just turned to darker thoughts, as I do sometimes at night. Names of many children who disappeared or were abducted came to mind, and I thought of ways they might have suffered -- might still be suffering. My imagination got the best of me, and I had to check on Fly to make sure he was really still in his room, asleep.
It also doesn't help that I am in uncharted territory: just in the past two weeks, I have allowed Fly to walk on his own in public. Up until recently, he was either in a sling, in a stroller, in a cart or in my arms. But because he is getting so heavy (he's more than 30 pounds now), and because he greatly protests strollers and shopping carts (he threw himself face down on the ground at the entrance of the supermarket at the idea of being put in a cart, and he usually cries almost the whole time he is in one) -- and also because he is two now and needs to learn -- I have been allowing him some freedom. I require Fly to hold my hand in many situations, but sometimes I need both hands. When I can't hold his hand, I constantly remind him to stay close.
Fly, of course, has no fear. He knows I am nearby, and that is enough for him, emboldening him to tuck around a corner where I can't see him or to race ahead of me. He has always been an explorer; he's my son.
He is curious. He is friendly. He is cute. He is innocent. I know what could happen.
And so I come to a question every parent asks at various points in their child's life: how do I give my child freedom while making sure he is safe?
It was a fitful sleep, a night with worries and no answers.
So it was a relief to be woken up by my little boy, interrupting my dream about taking him somewhere to buy a toy.
Into every life, a little rain must fall -- and sometimes it's six inches of rain, along with 50-mph winds.
Tropical Storm Fay is headed our way.
JP and I feel we're set for whatever Fay does -- even if she becomes a hurricane, as forecasted.
(Bring it!)
(Update: Fay never became a hurricane. We got a lot of rain, some cool breezes and that's it. Our house is 12 feet above sea level (!) and there was no flooding in our community.)
People here are a little on edge because the last hurricane that came through was Wilma in 2005, and that was a true disaster. Trees blocked roads. Traffic signals were missing or didn't work for about a week. Two of our neighbors had trees fall on their houses and cars; many others had tarps on their roofs for up to a year afterward while waiting for insurance companies to sort out the damage and waiting for roofing companies to get down the long line of people needing repairs. For a short while, you had to boil any water before using it because it had been contaminated. Some places had flooding.
JP and I didn't have electricity for 10 days. He lost a week of work. When he finally did go back to work, because of the traffic signals being down, his commute time doubled. We lost several trees. There was an eight-foot-high, 14-foot-long pile of debris we picked up in our yard.
My wildflower garden was flattened. It looked as though a giant came and stomped it with his boot. I started from scratch with a bare dirt floor and a few stripped shrubs. I made the garden even better than it had ever been.
In the midst of this crazy aftermath, two months later, Fly was conceived. With my garden fresh and budding, and my boy growing inside me, I was inspired to start Growing A Life.
Good things can come out of hurricanes.
But of course, we hope Fay won't be a big deal.
Anything you want to know about my experience with hurricanes or the storms in general? Ask, and I'll try to answer!
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Lissete, I was here for Hurricane Andrew in 1992. That wasn't just a disaster -- that was a war zone! I couldn't possibly write a short response to Andrew. That's a whole 'nother post!
MMTAM, since Wilma, JP and have replaced some of our windows with hurricane-impact windows. We also have shutters for our windows and doors. We have enough bottled water and food for several days. Also after Wilma, we had the local power company install a unit of some kind that allows us to hook up a generator to it and power the whole house. It won't run everything, but it will keep the refrigerator running, let us have some lights, and let us cook a bit. That's a huge improvement. We also put gas in our vehicles and have extra gas in cans (for the generator and for the cars) -- after Wilma, some gas stations installed generators too, but it's still a good idea. Those are the main preparations. Of course, if the storm spawns a tornado that wipes out our house, those things won't matter!
Kristi, as you know, Punta Gorda is on the southwestern coast of Florida. I've been there, and I remember it was hit bad by Hurricane Charley in 2004. In fact, I heard Fay is following a track similar to the one Charley took. The track of the eye of the storm takes it through that area, as I found online, "The state's southwestern coast is predicted to suffer the brunt of the storm and was put under a hurricane warning at 11 a.m." No matter where the eye goes, however, it looks like all of southern Florida is going to get lots of wind and rain.
Groovyoldlady, I remember Hurricane David too! It missed us.
Recently, Fly and I took a bike ride to a park nearby. I knew of the park but hadn't been there before. There wasn't much to it -- mostly a grassy area with a stand of trees in the middle, and two half-hearted playground areas.
The park didn't have much going for it as far as Fly was concerned, but it was almost surrounded by a canal that winds through the neighborhood. We followed a path along the water and were surprised by a blanket of flowers there. There also was a covered bench right at the water's edge.
I looked beyond to the other side of the canal and was surprised that the houses that backed up to the water were pretty spectacular. I saw pools bordered by Roman columns wrapped in fabric, a two-story wall of windows, romantic balconies and lush landscaping. The people in these houses looked out their backyards to this little park with its flowers, trees and cute little bench on the water -- a really nice view. All of this was just a short bike ride from my home.
Looking at all this beauty, I wondered why that couldn't be my family and me in a house like that. And I immediately felt ashamed -- as though I'm not grateful for what we have -- and indignant -- because I know we could probably have more if I worked at a full-time paying job.
We don't have the best house in the neighborhood, but it's not the worst, either. JP and I try to live within our means. There are some things we do without, while there are other things we splurge on -- probably like everyone. For example, we've never had cable or satellite TV. (A boss once asked me, in all seriousness, how I lived.) The most I usually spend on an item of clothing is around $30 -- thanks to shopping sales, eBay and being able to sew. JP does most of our home repairs and improvements himself. I use coupons at the supermarket (last week: $6.75 worth). We often buy electronics used. Many of Fly's toys are secondhand, like the Big Wheels-type tricycle I picked up at a yard sale for $3. JP and I have really cut back on our travel, staying in the state for the past several years. You could say we're good consumers, except we don't consume much. (Not to mention most of this is environmentally friendly.)
So, sure, we could have a nicer home with more up-to-date interiors, we could have newer cars, I could have fancy shoes and I could save time by skipping over coupons and sales papers. But for now, I am committing my time to Fly. And yes, I do realize many moms absolutely must work to keep the household running -- and that could be me if my husband ever can't find work -- and God bless moms for doing so.
For my family, though, right now we are content with having less because it means Fly can have more. He has more of me. He has more daily examples of do-it-yourself hard work. I believe having Fly at home gives him more freedom. Having less gives me more, too -- more time watching Fly discover new things, more practice with patience and faith, more chances to appreciate the things that matter most.
If I'm ever tempted again to gaze longingly at a fabulous house, I will just remind myself that less truly is more.
Sometime a couple weeks ago at a park, Fly followed the loud roar of an airplane, looked up into the sky and noticed a jet flying overhead for the first time -- as little ones probably do. He's been frightened of whirring sounds in the past: lawn mowers, the hand mixer, a toy featuring colorful gears and, heck, even the bubble machine we got for his first birthday. So (maybe a little too brightly), I taught him the word airplane. Perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, I indicated an airplane was a good thing. Just like the big smile I put on when I vacuum and the oh-this-is-so-much-fun giddiness I display when I absolutely have to use the blender.
After that day, no airplane or helicopter has gone unnoticed by Fly.
He hears the airplane engine before I do and begins yelling, "Ay-pen! Ay-pen!"
I have never noticed so many airplanes before in my life.
Whatever we are doing, we stop and search the sky to see what is flying over. Sometimes, the airplane is gone by the time we hear it. Sometimes, clouds keep our aerial entertainment from view. But other times, we are lucky, and a small plane is flying low enough for us to see everything.
"Bye-bye!" Fly says, and waves.
If a boat zips by on the canal two blocks away, it is an airplane. A motorcycle revving down the street is an airplane. A neighbor using a chainsaw is an airplane.
But at least Fly isn't frightened.
Now, maybe I am fueling a fire that doesn't need to be tended. And Fly is likely too young to fully appreciate this anyway. But I suggested to JP we take Fly to see the real deal.
Can it be?
Is that ...?
Big airplanes?!
Coming and going
Even though Fly is too young to remember this day -- too small to grasp what an airplane really is -- I am glad to present him with new challenges, so to speak. He is little, but I am still going to draw out his interests, shepherd his wonder and help him discover this new world he is learning about more and more every day.
Rather than dismissing something as being lost on him, I want to be the one to help open his eyes. Instead of thinking he couldn't possibly understand something, I will give him a try. When Fly turns his attention to something, I want to be there to guide him and encourage his curiosity.
I want to show him the world -- and at the same time, I want to see the world through his eyes.
I don't want to sound like a big sap, but lately I have been feeling so grateful for what life has brought me. It's a good feeling -- a warm feeling -- and makes me feel a little bit surprised (as in, "Hey! Look what I have!"). And it always, always makes me feel rich.
I'm thankful, of course, for my family and home.
And my extended family.
I feel lucky to live in a place so beautiful.
I appreciate days when clouds move across the sky like a painting in motion
but also when those clouds remind us what they're made of.
I am thankful for music.
I am grateful for times when I feel small
and times when I feel humbled
but also when I feel I'm a part of something larger than myself.
On trying days -- or when weeks go by and I feel the universe is after me, it's hard to remember what I have to be grateful for.
