parenting – Page 6

Embracing Self Care – Know Thyself

Over the next few Wednesdays in April, I’ll be taking part in a little blogging exercise (hosted by the Humbled Homemaker, woohoo!) by chatting about the different facets of self-care. You know the ones. Things like health and spirituality, finding peace in the home (this encompasses several concepts), and healthy ways to find R and R. Those things we tend to ignore on a day-to-day basis. Remember those?

I absolutely love this theme. Whether you’re a student who is too busy (or too stubborn…hey, I’ve been there) to properly take care of yourself, or a parent who is too swamped and exhausted to think past the rest of the family, or just an individual who has gotten into a rut, anyone can relate to forgetting to take care of yourself.

There are so many more relevant, important things to worry about, right?

Wrong.

This is an underlying, unspoken issue that I see bubble up from time to time in my family. The Dorky Daddy and I are able to compartmentalize — parenthood/family, work, maybe a hobby from time to time (acting or writing or working on our websites). But, those are the only constantly-present “compartments” of our lives.

What else falls to the wayside? Um. Lots. Here are some of my personal concerns:

Cleaning and true organization. Just ask the cake of dust on my bedroom TV. (What? We’re the only ones watching it, and rarely at that. Why clean it often? Ahem. Yeah, I’m wrong.)

Health. (She says as she sits sneezing and nursing a headache while writing this.) But, seriously, this also relates to the fact that a lot of days we find ourselves just so exhausted or fatigued.

Inner peace. We’re not what anyone might call “religious,” but I know we’d both like to get in touch with our spiritual sides better.

Balance. Okay, for realsies, I’ve heard a lot of folks say that this simply isn’t possible. Well, I’m pretty sure that’s not 100% true. Life is totally a seesaw, and that’s not a bad thing. But it’s obvious when things are tipping far too much in one direction. For example, when Dave was working at his previous job, it didn’t just take the time he was there, but additional work from home, as well as the stressful distraction that it caused for him. His seesaw is now officially WAY more balanced, and it’s a better thing for ALL of us. Side note: We’re still grateful for this DAILY.

“Us.” This is more of a “we need to make a concerted effort to spend time together and HAVE FUN” than a “we have issues” thing. We’ve gotta make some dates and enjoy them. We need to focus on whether or not the other person is doing too much and try to take the load off. We need to discuss openly tasks that we have to work on around the house (or other things they need help with) and actively plan on days and times to work on them. This has all been easy to forget when so much of life revolves around a high-maintenance toddler. We need to take folks up on the offer to babysit more, and find more things that we can do as a trio (not just baby-centric stuff).

My ultimate issue is simply figuring out how to use my time wisely. There’s so much I want to achieve, but getting motivated when I’m exhausted, or balancing the time between family and the rest of life, or ensuring that I don’t let something important fall to the bottom of the list. Focusing on a different topic each week may help me implement a few small, achievable tips — and I’d LOVE to hear any suggestions you have (or even to commiserate a bit about our individual issues).

Remember, our ultimate goal here is to focus on self care.

So, how well do you “know thyself”? What areas do you need to work on?

On this week, we’ll be assessing our needs and our personalities and getting a handle on what kind of self-care needs to happen in our lives. – See more at: http://thehumbledhomemaker.com/2014/03/embracing-self-care-community-blogging-project.html#sthash.USyLHbo4.dpuf

When Things Get Tough, Make a List

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freedigitalphotos.net
(This isn’t our kitchen…)

With nearly every weeknight being taken over by theater rehearsals (not that I’m complaining! It’s been a blast) and twice weekly physical therapy sessions (okay, that I kind of AM complaining about), it’s easy to get overwhelmed. Super duper stressed. It’s nice to have something fun to focus on, but the rest of this crazy life can get pretty nuts.

But, I’ve done pretty well. How? By chunking. Then listing.

Chunking means a million things (one of which involves child literacy, but that’s not what I’m talkin’ about here). In this case, I just use it as a coping mechanism; a way to handle things in smaller amounts. One day at a time. One meal at a time.

Since the things I look forward to most are at the end of the day (ie rehearsal and seeing Hadley and Dave at the end of it all), I look at each day in sections: morning, work, dinner/physical therapy/shower (those are one thing because they happen quickly in the span of about an hour +/- post-work), then “fun.” (Yes, sometimes the “fun” part is stressful, but it’s the almost-guaranteed positive in my day.)

Sure, sometimes there are positives in the rest of the day. Like, the morning rush almost always gives way to my daily phone chat with my mom. That’s generally a happy, high point of the day, done while eating breakfast or folding laundry or what not. If I can fit little tasks like this in while getting other stuff done, I feel a) more productive, b) less overwhelmed later on (no one likes that “I’ve got NO clean underwear!?!?” feeling), and c) happier (see “a”; laziness makes one beat oneself up, whereas productivity gives a boost of adrenaline…it’s a thing).

And, most days I can find SOME bit of happiness in the “work” side of things. Despite being a librarian, I despise putting books away. (My stack of books can attribute to that.) But if I chunk it into sections — putting away chapter books on one day, or half of the “easy” books, or all of the pet and sport books, it’s more manageable, even with a constantly full schedule. Plus, there’s almost always a happy moment with the kids that makes the rest of the stress easier to take. Even just being in a good mood and laughing along with them (ie not letting their annoying habits break me down…and remembering they’re only kids) helps.

As for P/T…well, that’s a post for another day, but let’s just call it a necessary evil. I go. I do. I feel awkward. I then become frustrated realizing that the exercises I have to do at home just doubled and I’ll be getting up at frickin’ 5:30 to get fit them in. I get grouchy. Then I move on. It’s a cycle, and I’m used to it now. (Well, not the getting up early thing. It’s not in my blood. I was meant to be my grandmother — Grandpa got coffee and breakfast ready for HER.)

When I don’t have P/T, I run around getting a “nicer” dinner ready and grabbing a shower (I shower at night out of convenience and time constraints…don’t say “ew”). The time still flies, and I find myself running out the door to rehearsal.

*SKREEEEECH* (Not the dude from “Saved by the Bell”; let’s not go there.) This is where my listing comes in.

I’m not great at to-do lists. Sometimes, it’s a must. Like anytime I go shopping for example. Groceries or otherwise, I will inevitably forget something if I don’t make a DETAILED list. Like…if I don’t put down the COLOR of the shoes I was going to get, I will immediately walk into Target and go into a Target-coma; must look at EVERYTHING in the store. Inevitably walk out without the shoes I came for. Beat myself up later. (Same works with food of all sorts. Or toilet paper. Hate that.)

However, making a list of the food I have in the house or, better yet, the meal possibilities (some savvy bloggers refer to them as “meal plans”, but I’m hardly a “planner”…so, I guess it’s a “meal list”) on my fridge’s white board helps in this regard.

Of course, the first week I dared use this method (the craziest week yet…until this week, during which the show opens), things got thrown around…but, it was still nice to have the list and use a couple of the “suggested” dinners. Like, Dave and the munchkin stayed with his parents for dinner a couple of nights. Still fine since I could make the omelet I had listed as a possibility. And, saving grace, I had chicken in the slow cooker the night of my incredibly longer-than-usual P/T session last Thursday — which meant I had time to scarf down half of my dinner before heading to the theater vs. not having ANYTHING to eat. Wasn’t great, but was better than takeout (which…ahem…we don’t really do these days).

So, what about your house? How do you handle the stress when you know it’s gonna be a week from Hades? And are you a lister? What kind do you make? Are you like my mom — whom we buy blank paper pads in bulk for, she makes so many lists?

Minimalist Mama

Similar to my zero-waste and French child rearing posts of yore, I’ve found a new inspiring (or frustrating, depending on how you look at it) concept in the cause of living simpler – the minimalist mom. Spoiler alert: I’m pretty sure it’s not something we’re going to adhere to, but stick with me here.

I saw this article on the Today Show’s website which, in essence, talks about a British family who, after the mum lost her job and got slammed with the holiday marketing blitz, vowed to strike out against consumerism by not spending ANYTHING on their son (and now daughter — yes, having a newborn and buying NOTHING for her). This is, of course, aside from any medical costs and food (although she doesn’t buy into the “food marketed specifically to kids” thing). And, after a year, they’re deeming it a success, and even continuing the project (with a monthly “get out of jail free” card).

After checking out the mom’s blog, I get it. The fact that her “rules” on the site go as such —

1) Mama don’t preach. This isn’t about telling anyone else what to do. If you’ve read my blog before, even a couple of times, it should be pretty obvious that I DON’T KNOW. I have no answers. Just a few jumbled ideas and a wobbly will to try to do the best thing I can for the kids. Most of the time. When humanly possible. On good days.
2) Liberation not deprivation. If it turns out that any of us (Johnny, Frida, my husband, me) are less happy, more stressed, less healthy, or just generally flourishing less (wilting?) due to cutting out spending in any area, we’ll reintroduce that thing. This isn’t about being stoic, or even doing without. It’s about blundering messily but happily towards a way of life that makes us happy and content.
3) Honesty is the best policy. I will be honest. I’ll always tell you what’s going on. No sneaking purchases past this blog. Hand on heart.

— is refreshing and lovely. She doesn’t seem to be doing this to jump on the “a year doing *fill in the blank* to get tons of press” bandwagon. She genuinely knows how toxic it can be (figuratively) to have to deal with the constant onslaught of C-R-A-P as parents (and children). I mean, just look at this video:

Adorbs! Doesn’t that just say it all?

Ahh. Stuff. That recurring theme of ye olde blog. I mean, just think of the influx (dare I say FLOOD) of toys (this isn’t including outfits) we received for Hadman’s birthday. Cuh-razy! (We’ve got a buttload more since Christmas, mind you. Le sigh.)

We’re of the mindset that if folks would just give ONE toy (and maybe one outfit, if they get “the itch”) for these special occasions, it’ll make everyone a lot more comfortable (my mother’s officially “scared” to get him ANY toys, and it’s not because of me…simply put, it makes me super sad) and help Hadley to realize that it’s more about showering him with love and kindness and appreciation and to let him know he has true worth. No one is allowed to “buy” his love, as far as I’m concerned, and we’re going to have plenty of family conversations with him about it as time goes by. Y’know, when he starts to understand things better.

We also don’t buy into (ha! Get it?) the “toy of the season” mentality. There’s nothing he “has” to have. Not the latest Elmo thingamabobber. Not everything-Sesame-Street-because-he-likes-Sesame-Street. (Although the Easter Bunny has mentioned wanting to bring one SS-themed toy. Darn him.) Lord knows munchkin HAS more than enough already. If you took the sheer number of toys, he’s reached his life quota. Seriously, that many. And he’s not 2 yet.

Stop the insanity! (Remember that? From the ’90s? Er…’80s, maybe? Susan Powter?)

The items that we get him tend to be creative or pretend toys that will hopefully stick around for years and years of use. Other toys that he has make him feel overwhelmed and bored SO. QUICKLY. Can you imagine? Having two huge containers of toys, literally overflowing, and feeling bored? I can imagine it. Because I see it. (Heck, when I look at all of his toys, I think, “Um, yeah. I’m going cross-eyed. Too much.”) It makes complete sense.

We want him to have an imagination…and to use it. To play WITH him using OUR imaginations; inside, outside, with pots and pans and bowls and spoons, with sheets and boxes and recycled egg cartons. What greater gift is there than that? My best childhood memories are of just these things.
And there’s also SO much to be said for “free play.” You know, going to a park or running around your backyard like a giggling fool or digging in the dirt or…well, you know.
So, let’s meander back to the topic at hand. Could we go a year without buying ANYTHING child-oriented?

It definitely got the ol’ brain juices flowing. I buy him Annie’s bunnies (but I eat them, too, and they’re not necessarily kid-centric…just cutesy), but I also buy the whole milk yogurt that’s perfectly portioned for toddlers (I swore I’d never do it, but saving 5-7 minutes in the morning? Psht.) I don’t buy a lot of clothes or toys for him (family hooks us up on this front, mostly), but we have failed at cloth diapering. (Sad to even admit that.) So, purchasing dipes ‘n wipes is a big one on the list.

Clearly, we couldn’t fully go without getting him ANYthing…plus, I’m too spineless/lazy/imperfect/flip-floppy to do one of those “for a year” challenge thingies. Hey, at least I’m honest. *wink, wink*

However, there’s a lot that I (or we, if you find it appealing) can learn from this experiment. I haven’t utilized Freecycle much…er…at all. Ever. And I should. Same goes for Craigslist. So much of what she says is true, though. There’s definitely a stigma that they have to be playing with the “right things” or wearing the “cutest” stuff. I find myself by nature anti-licensed character clothing. (I think it’s because I didn’t have much as a kid and realized I didn’t really like it; exceptions are the ONE Punky Brewster t-shirt and a TMNT shirt {Michelangelo FTW!} that I owned, and maybe a hand-me-down Betty Boop sleep shirt.) I also find myself turning away those gifts because I don’t want those obnoxious cartoon faces to inundate our own animated munchkin’s face, y’know?

That’s a tug-of-war right there. If it’s willingly given, do you just accept (I actually know for a fact that doing that tends to open Pandora’s box, causing us to receive even MORE stuff) graciously (which, believe me, we ARE truly grateful!) or do we pick and choose what we allow through our doors to better control what he (and we) are subjected to? Like…he’s never seen a full-length Disney movie. (He knows Mickey and the rest from short films and watching his playhouse at Grandma’s.) So…should he have shirts and pj’s with a million images of Lightning McQueen all over them? Then there’s the slipppery slope that we simply MUST own that movie (and a million others). Again, I only owned a handful of Disney flicks, and they were ones we already knew that (as a family) we loved watching over and over again. Not 50. Not 20. A handful.

And I turned out just fine. 😉

Obviously, my head’s still wrapping itself around this concept. I highly doubt we could do a full-blown challenge (even a month’s worth…? Maybe? Maybe not.) like this, but it definitely is good to help consider our needs vs. our wants vs. society’s perceived “you need to want”s.

Whatchya think?

He Pooped — Kid’s a Genius

Yup. I’m that mom who’s going to tell the whole world about her child’s potty behavior. If you find fault, please get over it. It’s not like I’m going to get graphic or show pictures (um…which I DO have…I’m clearly a first-time parent ;-)). ANYhoo, welcome!
Hadman is just over 18 months old. If my very shoddy math is correct, that’s a year and a half. Firstly, I can’t believe the time has gone so quickly from his first birthday to his “half-year” mark, but I guess time in general does whatever it wants when children come along. This is my excuse for pinning 2nd birthday themes, and I’m stickin’ to it.

Over two weeks ago, while at his grandparents’ house (and Mommy and Daddy were enjoying a wicked meal at The Tailor and the Cook), he let Grandma know that he wanted to go potty. Mind you, he’s verbal, but not that verbal — he has cues and he knows how to use ‘em. (Grabbing a pillow and a dipe, which means he wants his diaper changed/potty’s happening; pointing at the potty. Nothing too vulgar…yet.) He proceeded to go both “1 and 2.” Whoa.

I wasn’t totally shocked, although the fact that he “did” both was astonishing. Santa had brought him a super sleek, super comfortable potty (yup, Santa went with the deluxe “has a higher back and even spots for him to rest his arms on” model; he looks like an old man leaning back, I swear). We only got one since we weren’t sure if we’d need one both upstairs and down (the bathroom is upstairs, but we’re keeping it in the kitchen since we spend most of our non-sleeping time downstairs, and let’s just say that the flooring’s not carpeted).

Embracing Self Care - Know Thyself - image on https://megactsout.com

“How ya like the chassis on that one, guy?“

From the moment he saw it, he decided to lug this kinda clunky “chair” around and simply sit in it. We didn’t see any issue with him using it this way since I wasn’t sure when we’d officially start the potty-training process. Well, I’m guessing that he’d noticed his cousin using her potty, because he started showing cues that he was ready. He would sit on it and make noises and look like he was “pushing”. Eventually, he would just come and point to it, so we’d ask if he’d like to use it and he’d immediately say “uh-huh!!” (I wish you could hear it; it’s a very high-toned, adorable sound that occasionally borders on “of course, why didn’t you know I wanted to do that this very moment?” annoyed.) So, he went a little. Then, the next day, he went a little more. It’s been sporadic since then, but he’s gone a TON more at his grandma’s house (she’s his daily sitter, too).

Okay, so maybe this is getting a little graphic. Sorry!

As I see it, he’s kind of potty-training himself at this point. If he wants to, great (and we celebrate with a potty dance and high-fives and lots of praise), but if he wants to use his diaper, no big.

We didn’t push him into it. He showed us he was ready and quite interested. I’m going to get some poster paper and make a “chart” (just a half-sheet of poster paper that says something like “Hadley’s Chart” or something inconspicuous…y’know, for when we have the Fancypants family over and don’t want them to know we’re keeping track of his poops and tinkles) where we can place stickers every time he goes. It’s basic, but I don’t want to do a calendar (I may start jotting down on the family calendar the number of each that he does to keep track, though) to make him feel like he HAS to do it EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Now, as far as M&Ms or anything like that…well. Hmm. How do I say this? I don’t want to offend anyone, since I’m pretty sure I might have had a “treat” for going potty (although when I was fully trained, it was a let-down not to get something anymore…since pottying is pretty much a toddler’s only job, aside from not biting — which I’m told I failed at), but we’re not keen on using food (especially the dye-laden kind) to reward behavior. I might consider using raisins or his organic graham cracker bunnies if he falls off the wagon (er, potty) and starts needing additional encouragement, but for now I’m hoping to stick with the positive praise and stickers that he can put on himself (stickers are his thing…actually, they’re almost every toddler’s thing).

I MEAN NO OFFENSE TO THOSE WHO CHOOSE THIS METHOD!!! I’m also not judging you. Just don’t judge me for using something as ~~boring~~, er, wonderful as stickers. Every parent’s different; there’s no right or wrong way here!

Anyhoo, all that being said, I fully expect him to regress. I’m not hoping for it, of course, but I find that it’s easier to be flexible and prepared in situations (especially such unknowns as kids) if you ready yourself for possible failure. Some might call it pessimistic, but I don’t intend to be. (I’d say I’m a realistic optimist, personally.) Besides, I’ve known other kids to hit a setback and end up needing a dipe here or there (or, heck, who need to hit the “reset” button on potty training altogether), anyway. Since he’s so ahead-of-the-game on this, I don’t want to make him feel horribly if he does have a setback.

Oh, and is it weird that just about the time he started getting interested in potty-training, he started getting way pickier about food? He used to eat literally everything and anything put before him (“our little eater”); now, his favorites (like peas and corn) are left on the plate. At least he still likes things like carrots (for now), but it throws your mind and heart for a loop when you’re so used to his habits. I guess like I said before, I should prepare myself for all sorts of disappointments. 🙂

If you have a little one, when were they potty-trained? Or are you planning to start trying at a certain age? Do you have a method you tried/will try? Do share! And, remember — this is a no-judgment zone!

Side note: Given how “advanced” (early) he is on this thing, I totally expect any future kids to be wicked late and teach me a whole new lesson. Hmm. Okay, maybe I am a pessimist. Sometimes.

Here We Come A-Wassailing

Almost every year, we haul our heinies out to Cooperstown to the Candlelight Evening the Farmers’ Museum puts on (we skipped last year since the bambino was, like, crazy little…I use “little” loosely). The Farmers’ Museum is seriously one of my favorite places ON EARTH. It’s a living history site where houses and buildings from the mid-19th century have been transplanted to create a small village-like atmosphere.

There’s a building with an exhibit, but the rest is like a step back in time. The print shop creates mailers and flyers for events; the blacksmith makes shoes for the horses (it is the Farmers’ Museum, after all), old flat, square-headed nails, and products for the store; the “house” has a front AND back garden (GAH! LOVE IT!) and, depending on the time of year, shows how folks were putting things up or weaving and dying their own clothes or baking up a storm; the broom-maker (I’m sure that’s not the real name) shows how they were made; the “hotel” (which has an awesome balcony) is opened serving food and showing just how different it was to stay in an inn back then…and so on. I wish I could live there.

So, this year, we literally braved a brutal storm to have a family visit. There was only one goal for the day — to see Santa. The REAL Santa. We actually know the fellow who portrays him, so the fact that he says “hello!” to us by name is beyond cool. He dresses more like St. Nick, with short pants (freeeezing!), a real beard, a long hat, and a big sack flung over his shoulder.

But, thanks to the storm (we’re freaking crazy — we always plan for the coldest possible weather — I wore 2 pairs of pants, wool socks, 3+ shirts, a hat, two pairs of gloves…still cold), there were hardly any lines. So, that being said, we got to have our first ride on a horse-pulled wagon (where Hadley viewed Santa, or “Ho Ho”, from a mile away), chat up the printer on our own (I have a secret: This is the warmest spot in the place, thanks to their TWO stoves. I learned it on my 4th grade field trip, when I was assigned to the print shop and got to create my own “business cards” and “greeting cards”. You’re welcome.), and down some wassail.

We caught up with Santa before he started his story time at the school building, and Hadley was enamored with him. Oh, he also handed over an old-fashioned (albeit red dye-laden) chunky peppermint stick which he sucked on for a half hour. (I grabbed chunks out of his mouth and ate them so he didn’t choke. He still doesn’t have enough top teeth to help in this respect.)

Then, we finally headed indoors to hear some more caroling and buy two HUGE turkey dinners (which came with cocoa and HUGE pieces of gingerbread, which Hadley enjoyed) before trekking back home at half the speed in low visibility. But, we don’t care. It. Was. So. Worth. It.

So, if you’d like to experience some of the old fashioned Christmas, try some mulled cider. Wassail. Whatever you call it, it’s a lovely way to cozy up on a chilly winter’s night. And what makes it even better? It’s super simple to make. You don’t even need cauldrons over huge bonfires (which is how they do it at the museum).

Here’s another one of my “wing it” recipes, but it’s only because you really can’t mess it up. Want to sweeten it? Use maple syrup or sugar or whatever you like to use to sweeten stuff. Or don’t; it’s still delicious!) Don’t have cloves? That’s okay, leave it out this time (although use it when you have it on hand again…I respectfully advise. ;-)).

WASSAIL

2 1/2 cups apple cider
1/4 – 1/2 c. orange juice
1 -2 tbsp. maple syrup or sugar (or not)
1 tsp. (or less) cinnamon; or 2-3 cinnamon sticks
1/2 tsp. (or less) nutmeg
1/4 tsp. (or less) clove

Bring all the ingredients to a boil on the stove and stir; reduce heat to low and allow to simmer for as long as you can wait. (Five minutes…ten…or thirty. Whatever floats your boat.) If you don’t like “things” in your beverages, strain into mug and enjoy. Serve with a cinnamon stick if you’re a fancypants.

* Grown-ups who REALLY need a warm-up, throw a shot or two of rum in and say “good night.” Or, at least, that’s what would happen to me. I really can’t hold my booze anymore.

Pump No More

I made a decision this morning. It may not be earth-shattering (there are important things happening, like the death of Nelson Mandela, after all), but it’s a change for me.

I announced to Dave in ceremonious fashion that I wouldn’t be bringing my pump to school today…meaning, no more.

(Fun fact: He usually carries my pump out to my car when he loads his car with baby stuff in the morning. One of those examples of chivalry.)

It could’ve been because I woke up late after forgetting to set my phone alarm after our 3:30 feeding, putting me in a rip-roaring mood. It could’ve been my crazy hormones. Or, it could’ve been because I thought to myself after pumping a total of 1/2 an ounce yesterday, “This is nuts. He doesn’t need it during the day anymore.”

I’m in a sullen mood today, and I had hoped this decision would come when I was at the top of my game and mentally prepared…but, it had to happen in its own time, I suppose. So, I’m dealing. It’s not the end of the world. He’s still feeding at night and wicked early in the morning. It’s not like he’s done breastfeeding. And, even if he was, it still wouldn’t matter. I don’t want a 20-year-old breastfeeder, after all. But, the best way that I can put it is that a connection we shared will be gone. That’s the part that will suck.

So, a chapter in my life is closed. I may write another chapter on breastfeeding with any future bambinos, but my “training manual” chapter is done. I know there’ll be more to learn, but Hadley was a great teacher for this first adventure. Now, to sterilize the crap out of all the components of the pump and throw that sucker in the basement. On the bright side, at least there’s one less piece of high-maintenance baby paraphernalia to deal with.

*SIDE NOTE: I didn’t get my pics uploaded to my post for Foodie Friday, so I might just have an extra post for you guys next week…maybe…if I can get it together by then. 😉 Have a great weekend!*

Gettin’ It Together

We’re on a tiny bit of a pre-holidays organizing kick. It’s kind of funny, though — this is usually the time when we have to resign ourselves (well, I do; Dave’s never okay with clutter) to the idea that “with holidays comes great messiness.” It is what it is.

However, this year I’ve already told myself that the downstairs of our house is not allowed to get cluttered beyond the norm. (We usually have an odd box of diapers or kid/kitty toys strewn haphazardly around, but it’s a quick pick-up.) Last year, I used the dining room as the dump-all for shopping bags full of gifts, wrapping accoutrements, and so forth. This year, with an active toddler about, something’s gotta give.

So, while I’m working on getting our office clean enough to then get messy (doesn’t make 100% sense to me, either, but we’ll get there) and *finally* working on our coat closet (at least I didn’t have to switch from summer over to winter…ahem….), we realized that we’d already had enough of another mess-related issue in our house — the kitchen cabinets.

Namely, our lower ones. We never put the safety things on ’em because we’re okay with Hadley playing with certain harmless items (namely anything plastic and storage containers). The under-sink ones DO have safety thingamabobbers on them, but those that have all of my kitchen prep and baking items have been open season. He’s pretty good about leaving them alone, but the one thing he’s consistently being told not to go after is…dun dun duuuuuun, the blender unit. The glass pitcher isn’t an issue, but the buttons and long cord are too much for him; he won’t take “no” (and I mean NO) for an answer.

So, instead of giving him a constant reason to be scolded, we emptied the three main cabinets (the fourth is pretty much all set…as well as it can be) and did the “what do we need/what do we use” analysis. There is a lot of psychology involved in organization, after all.

Here’s the offending blender cabinet…

And the mess as a whole…

Yes, they look nasty. They’re clean, I promise. I’m hoping to give them a coat of paint this winter. 🙂 My strategy this time was to use the back space to place serving plates and muffin tins, and the lower back space for appliances (popcorn popper, blender, mini chopper) so that Hadley will *hopefully* find something else much safer in the front to pique his interest before reaching anything with a cord. Only time will tell whether this was a genius solution or if it will send us back to the drawing board.

And here’s the crap we were left with. How do we end up with so many plastic storage lids…and no matching containers?? Oh, and that insulated lunch bag is so thin it’s borderline useless in our household. I’m a lover of glass storage containers, and they won’t sit flat in there. I’m sure we’ll put it aside to use some day (or replace it with another much more user-friendly version).

On to the always-hated office clean-up! I’ve got a couple of ideas that may help with our wrapping craziness, if I can execute them. That makes the filing worth it in the end…right? RIGHT?? What are you gettin’ together this holiday season? Or are you just throwing your hands up until the dust (or, snow, as it were) settles?

Another Boobie Update

I’ve talked about it time and time and time and time again (probably more times than that, but those are my main rants). But I realized a few days ago that we’re nearing our end, so I’d better get my thoughts out (just in case anyone else is dealing with the ups and downs of breastfeeding and happen to be following my little journey).

When I say “nearing our end” on breastfeeding, that’s actually an unknown…as with most things in life. He’s just over 16 months old and still nurses (albeit for a shorter amount of time) early in the morning and just before bed. I pump once at work now — sometimes I add it to his cow’s milk to drink at the sitter’s, and other times I test to see if he’ll just eat the cow’s milk. Unfortunately, he’s become a sporadic milk drinker, so he doesn’t always drink it very well. Other times, he downs it like a champ.

But, when I do pump, I’m to the point of getting — get this — only about an ounce to 1 1/2 ounces. ONCE a day.

Wow.

I’m reminded of a year ago when I used to get over 28 ounces a day, plus feeding throughout the night. Consider this cow one hay bale short of being put out to pasture.

Then there are those random times in the middle of a Saturday where he comes to me and gestures to his chest — his little “sign” that he’s hungry — and we nurse for a minute or two. I don’t know if he’s REALLY hungry, or if he just wants some snuggle time (since he really doesn’t snuggle unless you get silly and tickle him; he loves to laugh), but I’ll take it. I’m sure I don’t “give” him as much as he may want since demand begets supply, but he doesn’t fuss, so it’s all good.

I’m sure I’ll do one final update when he finally kicks the habit, but for now, this is how life seems to be going. And, on a terribly personal side note, I think this up and down of breastfeeding is throwing my hormones (hence my “cycle”) totally out of whack. So not cool. 😛

And now you can go about your day knowing a tad too much about me. You’re welcome.

Our Hero

I know I’ve gushed about what a super awesome husband I have a few dozen times before. It’s not bragging; I’m not in the habit of that. After all, he’s certainly not perfect all of the time (that’s my job…ha…ha…hmm). But, dude. He’s pretty great.

That being said, I thought I’d share a link to a video of his recent trip to a Massachusetts talk show called “Mass Appeal” to talk about tips on surviving your first year as a daddy. He had several talking points (which we discussed in length before he sent them his list) but they ended up discussing just a few of my favorites.
Didn’t he do great?? It’s kind of funny because I received a text from him talking about how he wasn’t feeling great (heavy breathing) when he got there, wondering if it was nerves. This is crazy considering he used to do regular on-air news reporting and anchoring in front of many thousands of people a day, and has performed as an actor to pretty big venues. I totally got it, though; it was a completely different environment, he didn’t know how big his audience was, he hardly knew the hosts (one he had befriended awhile back; the other he was meeting for the first time), and a bunch of other maybe/maybe not irrational reasons.

Knowing that he was nervous, I think he knocked it out of the park. He was relaxed, he sounded relatively intelligent (of course, he is!), and, well, sounded just like our dorky daddy!

Watching this, it was hard not to reminisce about the past 16 months and his growth as a papa. He used to be terrified and held him in an extremely awkward manner. Heck, I left for a few hours several months in and I came back with Dave having slid down the couch, holding Hadley in the exact same position, unable to even reach the remote. (He couldn’t figure out how to get up.)

But, with time came confidence and one of the sweetest relationships I’ve ever seen developed between my two boys. I have only a very little, fuzzy memory or two of my dad, so seeing them play and watching Hadman run into Dave’s arms (and the look of sheer joy on Dave’s face) brings a tear to my eye and a smile to my face…and heart.

Anyhoo, enough gushing. Let me know whatchya think! And be sure to check out Dave’s blog at www.thedorkydaddy.com. It’s good stuff!

First Family Trip

Over the Columbus Day weekend (yes, I’m that behind on things), we finally tested the waters and took our first overnight family trip with Mr. Hadley, now 15 months old. We took a trip to Massachusetts over the summer, but this was the first just-the-three-of-us “let’s see if we can have fun far away from home” trip. On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say it was an 8…to 9…depending on how optimistic I’m feeling. 😉

The best part (and what made it, I thought, easier) was that we returned to Vermont — where we had our honeymoon and first anniversary trips. We stayed at the familiar Middlebury Inn. We walked around familiar Middlebury and drove the familiar roads that took us to familiar antiques shops. We stopped for a familiar romp around the Bennington Monument (although we’d never ran circles around the green before…thank you, toddler energy!).

But, it wasn’t a boring trip, by any means. Everything is so new through the eyes of a toddler, and the surreality of being places that we once casually spent hours eating at or were able to peruse without tiny, jutting hands grabbing things from shelves…it was kinda neat. And a little nerve-wracking. But, we accepted that this was how the trip would be, and we admittedly loved every minute of it.

Since it was Parents’ Weekend at Middlebury College, we could only book the Sunday into Monday (fine by us). We arrived in VT early after a pretty uneventful trip (hooray for naptime!), let the folks at the Inn know that we were early, then sauntered over to one of our favorite places on Earth: the Middlebury Co-Op. We’ve been there a few times and love it more each time. There’s cast-off (perfectly fine) soap from a local natural soap company that we stock up on (literally purchase pounds of the stuff in varying scents). Dave ogles the grind-it-yourself coffee. I love finding a vast selection of items I’ve only heard about online, often shouting with unabashed excitement to Dave two rows over. And, for it being one of his least favorite activities, Hadley did pretty well being carted through the aisles. (Key here: Constant motion.)

We purchased a lunch from the place (they have prepared food, too…woohoo!) at which time the antsy-pants took command, so we pretty much took turns watching him. Dave also walked the half-block to the car to store our treasures; Hadley made his acquaintance with several strangers sitting at the picnic tables outside the store, which made me realize that his social streak causes Dave and I to be far friendlier and more outgoing than we normally might be. Y’know, comparable to a puppy.

We then checked in for realsies, rode a “real live OLD SCHOOL elevator” with a teen to operate it, dropped off our stuff, (had the Pack ‘n Play delivered and set up since it had been forgotten; the only small glitch), and headed to the lobby for Dave’s favorite — afternoon tea.

They also have yummy pastries and cookies, so we loaded up a plate and brought our tea (and Hadley’s sippy cup o’ juice) to the “veranda” to watch the quaint traffic and enjoy a moment. Dave was in his glory, as my mother would say, and Hadley was a very good boy…since he was getting tastes of chocolate or lemon cookies, a huge treat.

Dave’s look during tea? Pensive. Pensive. And pensive. (He DOES enjoy it VERY much…believe me!)

We then went for a stroll around town. Unfortunately, since it was Sunday and heading for after 4, most of the stores were closed, but we still enjoyed our walk. I had hoped that Hadley would sleep for a little while in the stroller, to no avail. We then headed back to the Inn to get ready for our 5:30 reservation. Dave was already talking about the cheese plate, which we always order (for whatever reason). I was preparing myself mentally for a hadn’t-napped-sized meltdown from the munchkin.

I was pleased that our timing seemed to avoid any big rush (you never know when people will eat dinner, do you?) so that we’d be disturbing minimal guests with our noisy boy. He ate pouches, and tastes of my pork and the most delicious braised cabbage and whipped sweet potatoes I’d ever tasted. He ate cheese of his own while we feasted on our cheese plate (all goat this time, strangely; usually there’s at least one Cabot since the factory is on the outskirts of town). He played and hammered his hands and utensils on the table and caused a general ruckus, much to our disappointment, but the other guests seemed very forgiving and our hostess kept assuring us that he was very well-behaved and sweet and “nobody minds a bit, he’s so cute!”

We finally decided that, while dinner had been nice, it was time for Hadman to have a bath and get ready for bed (even if it was a bit earlier than usual), so Dave stayed to pay the bill (and get a couple of creme brulees to bring up to our room — I married a keeper, ladies!).

(Looked horrific dumped into a to-go container, but tasted lovely!)

We usually bathe Hadley in the kitchen sink, so this was his second tub experience. I let him play to his heart’s content, then run around the connected rooms (we had our own separate bedroom attached to a kind of living room, where his Pack ‘n Play was set up) before finally calming down, reading a book, and settling down for the night. Dave and I watched crappy cable and read magazines and books, and talked about how much we missed the cats. It was awesome.

The baby awoke far too early the next morning, but we weren’t ready to get up yet, so I brought him in the fluffy bed with us — where he immediately conked out. He has a weakness for comfy pillows, I suppose.

I got ready early and played with the munchkin (and got him ready) while Dave took a shower. We packed up and Dave loaded up the car while Hadley and I tore through the large lobby. (Okay, I didn’t tear through it, but he did…and I came tumbling after.) I finally realized there were a butt load of Morgan horse pictures (they were first bred here! And my niece’s name is Morgan, so what’s better than that?) adorning the walls, so we went from one to the next, pointing and “oofing.” (All animals say “oof”…or is that just what the cool kids are doing?) Daddy came back and we found a short line waiting for the Inn’s delicious breakfast — which made our nerves immediately spike.

With just two or three other tables of folks the night before, we were confident. With an entire dining room full this morning, we felt dead in the water. “Will. He. BEHAVE?!” we both silently wondered. Luckily, they were gracious enough to seat us at a HUGE table in the corner (near windows, though — we didn’t feel relegated to the dungeon) so Hadley could discover his table manners in relative privacy. The huge room, however, was eerily silent (what, were people whispering or just not talking to their spouses?! C’mon, can’t SOMEONE have a public spat??), so every little noise he made echoed. Eh, ya win some, ya lose some.

I had been dreaming of the couldn’t-be-more-perfect waffles for years (they’re the reason I bought a Belgian waffle maker…and still haven’t been able to find the “taste,” so quit trying), so I made a plate with extras for the munchkin of waffles, bacon (just a bit), eggs (which he loves), and some yogurt. Man, those waffles were as awesome as I remembered. We filled our stomachs and the baby let us know that he was ready to go. Off into the perfectly drizzly autumn day for some driving and antique stops.

We only stopped at two antique shops along the way — one run by a kind older man with a friendly pup who follows you around the store, and the other (Branford House Antiques) where we had befriended the owners and purchased a sidebar on our honeymoon. BOTH had “For Sale” signs plopped unapologetically on their front lawns. *pout* I suppose this is the end of an era.

Purchases were kept at a minimum: I grabbed a $10 wooden crate (wicked price, whether it’s an antique or not) and Dave bought an Art Deco lighter to adorn his office at work. Relatively cheap, and no regrets of over-purchasing. Win-win!

We DID over-buy at The Chocolate Barn in Shaftsbury. Maple candy, people! And handmade chocolates!! Great for gifts, and for a lil’ treat. Needless to say, ours were gone in under a week. I think that’s a new record.

And, finally, we stopped in Bennington. It was past our usual lunch by this point (we gave the baby an organic pouch at one stop, but he’s a ravenous lunatic when he hasn’t eaten…like his mama), so we were incredibly lucky to find a little cafe with awesome local food and drinks still open. A sandwich that was killed by how much spicy mustard it contained and more butternut squash soup for me (I’d had some at the Inn the night before that tasted like the best soup I’d ever had…ever), a grilled cheese sandwich for the monkey, and I can’t for the life of me remember what Dave got…maybe panini. Or something. Definitely coffee.
After our late lunch, we went to the Bennington Monument that we’ve been visiting since well before we got engaged and took some new pictures next to our buddies — a statue and a random plywood militia man. Hadley also socialized with anyone he could get close enough to and ran around like a fool. It was awesome.

Yeah. I know. Too awesome for words.

Here we have the last leg of our trip: a stop by Camelot Village (just outside Bennington). This is where things went a tad South. Hadley could’ve easily taken more outside energy-using activity, but instead we brought him into a huge venue full of breakable antiques. Stupid grown-ups. He wanted to touch EVERYTHING and started (predictably) whining and screaming when we picked him up. The stroller wouldn’t have fit through the aisles, either, so he was “on the loose” (I wish I had brought my Ergo, but I’m not sure he would’ve been contained). So, we went to the surrounding areas only to discover that things had changed (for the worse), finally deciding that I’d stay in the car with the monkey while Dave perused the antiques quickly. When he was done (and the baby was asleep), I took a quick walk through. Neither of us found anything worthwhile (or priced well enough to want), so we left empty-handed and happy to be heading home.

The rest of the trip took a couple of hours, so we got home in time to feed the annoyed, ravenous, yet strangely happy cats — it was clear that they had missed their boy, and it warms my heart to think of how affectionate they were when they saw us. They’re usually quite friendly little creatures, but the love that poured out for Hadley was just so darn evident.

While we headed back to work and normalcy the next day, I remain very glad that we took the leap into travel with our little man. We once made a list, while heading home from our honeymoon, of goals to maintain in our relationship and life. One that has stuck out stronger than any others was this: “When we one day have children, we will accept them into our lives, not completely change to suit the children.”

Of course, we knew that LIFE would change with a child (and we expected that when we wrote it), but what we meant — that we still wanted to have adventures, that we wanted to keep searching local, organic and healthier eating options, that we still wanted to go antiquing and history-hunting and the dozens of other things that we like to do — was ultimately that we want to share all those things with our young ones. We also want to acclimate them to a change in routine, the idea that the world does not revolve around their beautiful little noggins (well, the one noggin, for now – ha!), that certain behavior is expected in certain places, and, mostly, that there’s a great big world out there for them to discover, enjoy, and take advantage of.

And I think we’re on our way.