Saving the Best for Last

There seems to be something deep within the gene that transcends what science has yet to explain. How can a child exemplify mannerisms of one of their parents without ever witnessing that behavior. Both Richie and I have seen Madeline sleeping the exact way Richie does. He sleeps on his stomach with one hand on his forehead as if to prop up his head. It's really cute and cuddly.

Well, this morning I was giving Maddy her snack and I had broken her blueberry waffle into small pieces and I was putting them on her tray for her to eat. When there was only one piece left, I told her, "Ok, last bite, then you get some applesauce." She attempted to say applesauce and as she held up the last bite of waffle and studied it. She then put it back down on her tray and poked it with her finger. "Aren't you going to eat that?" I asked her, but she was pointing at the bowl saying, "Ah," which means, "Put some applesauce in my bowl, mother."

I put the applesauce in her bowl and she began eating voraciously. I only put a small amount of food in her bowl, otherwise it ends up on her lap and on the floor and on the walls. Whenever she finishes what's in her bowl, she hands the spoon to me. I give her a refill of applesauce. While I'm doing this, I catch her again, studying that last bite of waffle. When she noticed there was applesauce to eat, she set down the waffle and picked up the spoon. After she had finished all of her applesauce, she picked up the piece of waffle and said, "More," and ate it. Just like her Dad, she saved the best bite for last. I was amazed at her control. It was very untoddler like.

I just had to share this with you because I love you. Now I need to go write a novel.

Me and You and Everyone We Know...

are probably applying for that position at Learning to Love You More. I thought about it as I my body spasmed into sleep last night and I knew in the beginning of my dream sequence that I was perfect for the job. In your dreams you can be anything, including an axe murderer, so it makes just as much sense for me to be confident and self-assured.

While I'm awake, I know I'm great at what I do, which is giving care to our 19-month-old daughter. I wish I could have been the kind of mother I am now for my son when he was younger. I know my love for him was as strong. I can only make the best of what I have now, which isn't as much as I'd like. But I savor ever moment with him.

I love you and I love you all.

What You Can Find in the Laundry

After Madeline eats breakfast and watches her Blue's, we go into my bathroom so I can get ready for the day. I always turn on music and we dance together in between brushing my teeth and putting on my clothes. Well, while I was spitting out toothpaste, I found Maddy digging through our dirty clothes hamper. The first thing she pulled out was a pair of my dirty underwear, which she almost instinctually put up to her nose. "No, that's gross," I said and buried it deep in the hamper. She then said, "Dadat, Dadat." I kept telling her that Daddy had to go bye bye to work in the car, but she was looking in the hamper while repeating "Dadat". I finally figured out that she wanted one of Richie's shirts. I took one out (it happened to be the scrub top that was wearing when she saw him for the first time) and spread it on the bed. She rested her head on it and said, "Nighnigh." I just about died.

So, if you every think for even one second that your daughter doesn't miss you during the day, you're wrong. Dead wrong.

Well, I should probably go write a novel. I'm doing the National Novel Writing Month thingy where people all over the nation try to write a novel in a month (in case the title wasn't implicit enough).

I love you.

"Hey, I appreciate your time."

I know this blog is mostly about my family, but I feel (maybe it's because we watch Arrested Development incessantly) that the Bluths are family. Here's a picture David, I mean, G.O.B. at the Gothic Castle. This is the episode where he steals Michael's watch while Michael's trying to steal Marta 2. I love it when people thank me for my time. Time is the most important thing, with the exception of breakfast. I mean, family.

I love you.

What Doesn't Kill You...

Here is a picture of me from what I think was a third grade field trip. It was back in the day when they threw caution to the wind and let eight-year-olds tour the quarantine unit. At least we had those flimsy paper masks and hats to keep protect our noses and heads from the ebola. This picture previously contained my once two friends, Ramona and Nina, the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern of Sister Frances's class. I cut them out of the picture for this reason. I also cut out the knife that was sticking in my back. Thank you, photo manipulation software for resurfacing the rough texture of my childhood.

I thought Richie might like this one because I always say that Maddy looks like me from the eyes up, so it's almost looking at a fast forwarded picture of Madeline (sometimes I call her Mabs). It's uncanny because in this picture I have the same haircut that she has now. Uncanny.

Richie, if you find me dead when you get home, it's because I ate that lasagna that's been in the freezer for months. You really need to read that essay by Angela Carter about the life of Lizzie Borden. Everytime I think of rotten food, that essay comes to mind. It's not like an essay you had to write in college. It reads more like a story.

Anyway (my favorite transitional word), I need to go spray paint spider thoraxes (thoraxi), so I'll cut it off here.

I love you, always.

Today Sucks.

Ok, it's not the end of the world and I shouldn't be complaining, but Richie's still in Irvine, Maddy's sick and I should have signed up for overdraft protection.

On a lighter note (although, the previous note wasn't necessarily very heavy or dark), we had a good time at the pumpkin patch. There were herds of different colored shirted children from different school programs. Maddy wasn't as crazy about the goats as I was hoping. I mean, she was genuinely interested in them, but didn't want to touch them with a ten-foot pole. Maybe it was the smell. She did pick up one of the goat's brushes and tried to brush her own hair with it. I freaked out and snatched it out of her hand. The goose freaked the hell out her. Christian made friends with a lonely steer and we saw a pile of piglets, one of which had a lump of its mother's poop on its back. It was picturesque.

We tried to recreate the photo from below using Madeline as the subject, but we would have had more luck finding a needle in a haystack at that place than an actual haystack. When we finally did, it was in a hillbilly auditorium of sorts. I only got one shot of her and I don't know if her eyes were closed or if she was looking at the camera. Oh, well. At least we have the memory.

I love and miss you.

Christian age 2 at Bishop's.

Hay Fever

This Wednesday, Christian, Maddy, Richie and I are going to Bishop's Pumpkin Farm. I can't wait. It's Maddy's first trip to the patch that I've been taking Christian to since he was two. The thing I'm most anxious to see is Maddy's reaction to the baby goats. Christian always loved feeding them and one of the pictures that is stuck in my head is of a baby goat eating oats out of his cupped hands. His expression is a combination of fear, awe and excitement. His cheeks were all rosey and kissable.

I'll post pictures and a detailed report of our day. I can't wait. God, I'm a geek.

I love you.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Today, I'm contemplative. About nothing in particular, but I'm not spacing out, at the same time. I'm really thinking about things. About the life I chose and about how I got smarter. I used to be one of those people who acted like they didn't know how to have the life they wanted. Maybe I was psychologically impaired for a while and that hindered my good decision making. But I'm proud of the person I'm becoming now, for it's always an ongoing process. Even when you're thirty-two.

There's nothing more frustrating to me now than to hear someone tell me about an aspect of their life that they are miserable about and it's something that's totally fixable. I used to get sucked into other people's problems and make them my own and not sleep at night. I seemed to be growing out of that, too, thankfully. Well, not the not sleeping at night part. I still do that for other reasons.

I'm excited about my future with my family. I'm interested in seeing who Christian and Madeline become. They are amazing children right now. Christian's wit and intellect will get him far. He really is a sharp kid. He's not afraid of making an ass out of himself in front of others and that's one of the most important keys to enjoying life. Maddy is a pistol, as Grandma would say. She's got a bit of my temperment, but she knows when stop. She hasn't fully exhibited her Pisces sensibility yet. I hope she acts more like Richie than me. He is definitely more patient and kind.

I love you.

A Return From a Long Hiatus

A lot has happened since the last post. We moved into our new house on May 14, 2005, which is gorge. It was a no brainer when we saw this house and I immediately became disinterested in seeing anymore houses after we looked at this one. It just fits us.

Maddy is saying a lot of words and running around like crazy. When she says dog, it sounds like dock. When she says fox, it sounds like fu**s. Surprisingly, when she says duck, it sounds more like dog than dock. She has an amazing memory and can recognize hundreds of household items like, couch, clock, and chair. She knows what a good girl is, yet still points to herself whenever I say it. She'll learn one of these days. :)

On July 21, 2005, we found out that Christian has juvenile diabetes. He's a hero in our household because of how he handled the whole thing. He's been stronger than we've been and has given some validity to the saying (that I've heard hundreds of times in the last two months) "Children are resiliant."

I'm really looking forward to our trip to Alaska. I'd like to see some big cold things that float and sink ships. They're really beautiful in pictures.

I love you.

There's No Place Like Home

So, we've made it past the birthday rush consisting of Richie's thirty-fifth and Maddy's first. Richie's, as always, was low key. Dinner and dessert. UM brought over cheesecake and we all over indulged for a week. Maddy's party was immense to us because we're not used being around so many people. It was friends and family totaling close to forty people and we felt like neglectful hosts because of the large number and the multitude of duties we had to do. Richie and I both got all dear-in-the-headlights because we were so overwhelmed. It wasn't even a huge party-no pinatas or pinning things onto other things. It was just a glorified barbecue in the name of our daughter's birth. But that's how we like it. The simpler the better. I'm not looking forward to when she wants to invite half the class list from her school and we have to do the stop and chat. We're not those kinds of people.

Aside from that, we've been looking at houses. Tonight, we're looking at three, maybe four and three out of four have pools. One thing we haven't considered thoroughly is the upkeep (is that two words?)of a pool. It's seriously exciting and scary because it's an investment. What we choose now will affect our lives later. That's a lot to take in.

I have to go, but I just wanted to keep this semi-up-to-date. It's hard since Maddy's teething and hasn't been enjoying her naps like she used to. I love her nonetheless. As well as Sasa and Daddy.

The Dreaded Omega-3

This is just a quick post to tell Richie how proud I am of him to take those sick pills three times a day just so he can stay on this earth with us longer. He even tried to trick himself into believing they smell like tic tacs. I feel kind of bad for the guy that he is punished twice. He must be some sort of masochist to want to stick it out with us. Well, at least me.

We've been enveloped in Napoleon Dynamite quoting, Curb Your Enthusiasm (after we ran out of Arrested Developments) and meaningful exchanges on existentialism. Maddy's almost walking and doing her best with the consonant/a formations to date, including Mama and Nana. In other words, life's been great.

Coming soon...Christian's baby bathtub picture for all of TOES to see.

Here's Maddy in the tub. This blog is really turning out to be a Maddy photo album. I need to take some new pictures of Sasa. 

"What you talkin' bout, Willis?" 

Sleater-Baby. Here's Maddy rockin' out to Sleater-Kinney, her mom's favorite group. 

Here's our sunflower, Madeline Jayne. 

Yo Estoy Inferno

I haven't felt much like doing anything lately, thanks to Christmas and this sickness. We all have it. Hopefully it won't last much longer. I can't stand hearing Maddy bark like a dog. How long does this stuff last, anyway?

Christmas was wonderfully busy. It was great to see everybody, but like every year, it went by too fast. I don't have the post-Christmas blues yet. Why does anyone get that anyway? I mean, the season's really tiring and stressful. I guess it's just the post-climactic feeling. All the presents are gone, relatives are traveling back to their homes, but at least there's always something to eat. I can't tell you how many varieties of pie we have.

I need to take down the Christmas tree. It's a zombie, it's so beyond dead. I'm afraid to turn on the lights anymore. I fear it will ignite. I guess that's one way of getting rid of it.

Gotta go. I love you, though.

What you don't use...

Here's a random post about nothing, really. I know every blog has one of these posts every once in a while. It seems pointless to write about nothing, but as a writer, I know that sometimes writing nothing can turn into something. It's just the process of getting your brain out of sludge mode. The holiday season can be an introspective time of year, but this year with the baby, I find little time to even sit down on the couch and catch up on my reading. Here I am right now with her next to me, my trusty sidekick and honestly, I'd have it no other way. Spending time with her is better than writing or reading. Again, like a broken record, my family is everything to me.

Every year, it gets harder to buy things for people. That's how blessed we are. We have so much stuff that nobody knows what to get. We've resorted to the gift card for the kids because they are running out of room for presents. What an overindulgent life! I feel simultaneously blessed and guilty. 'Tis the time of year for that good ol' guilty feeling.

Ok, ultimately, it appears that my typing nothing really amounted to nothing. Did it spawn introspection? Did it get the sludge moving? I'll tell you after my morning coffee.

Thankful for Everyday

It's that time of year when people realize that they have it pretty good, but then, after the holidays, they resume their everyday routines and forget they have anything to be thankful for. I'm not saying everyone is like this, but it appears to be the majority of people.

Today isn't even Thanksgiving, and already I know I'm thankful that in about twenty minutes or less, I get to rescue my daughter from the prison of her crib and she will hold on to me and I will believe that her arms resting on my shoulders is a hug. I'm thankful that today is my sister's thirty-sixth birthday and that I get to see her laugh. I'm thankful that my son will be with me in three hours and we can go get a hot drink together and make jokes about how much money we have to buy ridiculously priced drinks (Thank you, Starbucks!). We know we're fortunate. We have the extras right now. We realize there might be a time when we don't have the extras. We made it through those times before and kept the smiles on our faces because we knew what it was about.

I know even more now than ever. I have my husband who values me more than anything or person. He would give me his heart if I needed it and metaphorically, he has done nothing but that. He's amazing and we have created a family together. And I've never been more thankful for anything than this.

This one's for Daddy. We love you.