Well excuse me, Miss Manners.

Last night we were sitting at the kitchen table after dinner when I suggested KC treat us to a tea party. She happily obliged with her sweet new tea set that makes an annoying adorable beeping sound every time she pours. (and pours, and pours…) She presented me with my serving, added a little spoonful of air for taste and then went about making a cup for Daddy too.

I put my tea up to my lips and gave it a big ‘ole sluuurrp for effect. Ted looks over at me very seriously and says, “It would be nice if you waited for everyone else.”

Well excuse me, Miss Manners. I didn’t mean to offend.

She bakes too. Must get that from her Dad.

Twice As Much

Dear KC,
Today you are two years old. I love you twice as much today as I did when you were born. I am certain that each year I will love you more and more. You are amazing. It’s true how they say that babies grow up fast. Until you become a parent and watch it happen for yourself that is just another cliché saying. Lately you are changing almost daily. No lie. You are talking so much, growing so big (over an inch in the past month!) and you are developing more and more of a big kid’s personality – a little attitude, a few quirks and a lot of love and silliness to share with us all. It’s truly a blessing and a pleasure for your dad and I (as well as your grandparents) to see it happening every day.

I remember very clearly holding you in the hospital after you were born. So tiny and light, so soft and sweet. You are still soft and sweet, but whoo-boy! Not so light anymore! You get harder to carry around, but I still love to pick you up and feel your little arms around my neck, or your head resting on my shoulder. I am so grateful that you are still in a place where you crave a lot of “Mama Love” each day. I cherish those moments when you need to be close to me. The moments when no one else will do. I know that there will come a day when you are much too mature and independent to cuddle with your Mom when you need comfort. I promise I’ll try to be cool about that when the time comes.

Tonight we will celebrate one more time with some cake and ice cream. We’ve got plenty left over from your party on Saturday! You are such a lucky girl, KC. I hope that we can give you material things while still teaching you the value of being grateful for what you have. So many other kids go without lots of toys and food. Too many even live without a lot of love and attention. As a parent and a human being, that is heartbreaking every time I see it. I was a very lucky little girl growing up. Your Dad was very lucky too. We are still lucky because we can give you the love, support, and (ok, I admit it) the presents you deserve. It’s awfully hard not to spoil a child you love so much. I’m going to have to keep a leash on your Dad though. He likes Toys-R-Us a little too much for a guy his age. You two are bound to have some fun together. I’ll be the one shaking her head in the background because “that’s too expensive!” or “isn’t that dangerous?”

I could go on and on, but I’ll wrap things up. You are twice as much fun, twice as smart, twice as beautiful and twice as much of a blessing as you were 2 years ago today. And that’s saying a lot because you were a DAMN good baby! Happy Birthday, sweet little girl.

All My Love,
Mommy

Awesome tea set courtesy of KC’s Aunt and Uncle. Fabulous gift choice guys! She adores it!

*****

By the way, the party was a total success. No mishaps at all this year. The food platters and the cake were perfect. Gotta love paying someone else to make it! (Hey, what can I say? I know my strengths.) Daddy even spent 3 hours last night (after working all day at an expo) putting together a play kitchen from G & G Doran so that KC could play with it right away. THAT, my friends, is love. Special thanks to my Mom and Dad for all the driving you did and the extra hotel visit you endured just to be there with us. Thanks actually to everyone who came and celebrated with us. KC made out like a bandit with the “Birthday Booty”. She is indeed very lucky. As are we.

Let’s hear it for the boy!

My husband rocks. He got the playhouse put together in two evenings and even got to put the clear coat on it just like the brochure said he should do. He also (finally) finished two wooden chairs for our kitchen table that came a few weeks ago that we desperately need for the party tomorrow. He is the man. KC’s new playhouse is AWESOME. And here I was saying how it was going to be the thing that went awry because of Murphy’s Law and fate and yada-yada-yada.

We are totally ready for the party tomorrow. I spent all day cleaning and shopping. I just have to pick up the sandwich platters and the “Finding Nemo” themed cake that GIANT FOOD IS MAKING. NOT ME. Oh. Crap. That’s going to be the thing that goes wrong isn’t it? They are going to forget about our order. Or maybe the cake will say “Happy Retirement Bob!” Actually, that would be kind of funny. Just the thing Ted and I would get a kick out of.

Hell, even if they do screw up my party platters it won’t be the end of the world. I’ll just buy some deli meat and toss it all together. The way the food looks doesn’t matter because, SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS. LOOK AT THE AWESOME PLAYHOUSE.

It has a mailbox. Which KC immediately put dirt and rocks in. Duh.

This thing is tall enough that I can stand upright in there. I can't do anything else, but still.

He’s a good Dad. KC and I have decided to keep him.

“TWO” Much

She’s going to be two in one month exactly. TWO! Today she is 23 months old. Amazing. Time flies much too fast. Did I mention that in numerous other posts already? Yeah, I guess I did. However, it bears repeating often. So I can remind myself how important it is to enjoy the moments we are in RIGHT NOW.

We work too much in this house. Me with my full-time job, plus freelance in the evenings. And Ted. Ted has so much work to do they make his team come in 7 days at a stretch lately. (Lord, please help Ted’s boss realize he is not a cyborg. For real. He is human. I promise.) Thankfully this weekend is a break. He needs it. We both need it. KC needs both of us to just be there and to relax. Of course there will be chores and jobs around the house, but paychecks don’t care about those so we might slack a little bit. Working is a necessary thing in life. It seems that more and more these days BOTH parents working is a necessary thing. It’s not easy. My hat’s off to couples who can manage on one income. Especially if that income is less than six figures. Don’t even get me started on how much I admire the single parent. Gah.

Remember when you were little and you used to pretend to be grown-up? It seemed like adults had the life. Stay up as late as you want, buy whatever you want…as if. One of my best friends and I used to play “office”. It seemed like having your own phone and stapler was very sophisticated. Wow. How little we knew. Then again, maybe we knew a lot more than we know now. We knew how to PLAY. We knew how to enjoy the simple things in life and see fun in so many places. Sometimes I forget how to play. KC is helping me with that. With a small child you have to find time to play. You have to be able to slow down and enjoy stuff. You cannot get impatient when a two year old is doing something. Everything is still pretty new. Everything takes a little more time.

Dear GOD! Walk in the door already! It’s time to go inside. Mommy needs to sit down. That rock isn’t going anywhere, I promise.

Ahem. Where was I? Oh right. Being patient. She’s so beautiful these days. So funny too. Running wild in a diaper (or naked) and Hello Kitty rain boots. She’s fun to watch. And you do have to stop and watch, because before we know it she leaps into the next phase and grows 2 more inches. She’s especially beautiful when she’s still and she’s watching something. Her eyes get soft and her mouth is a perfect little rosebud. She’s not still that often so it’s cool when I can capture it. For proof that she’s not actually blurry in real life. She’s quite vivid and sharp actually. Picture perfect.

Life at Full Speed, Pt. II

Lately Ted and I have talked about the decision leave it at the three of us, or go ahead and make it four. I’ll tell you a secret. We’ve pretty much decided we like the number four. A lot like our decision to get hitched, this decision was made on the fly. Of course we’ve had our typical non-conversations of, “Should we?” Followed closely by, ” I don’t know…” and subject drops. When other people ask whether we want to have another child (and, HOLY CRAP, they ask a lot) we usually respond with, “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Depends on what day it is.”

I joked with my mom recently that I harbored a secret desire to respond like a total smart-ass when asked about our “family plan”. I came up with this line: “Oh, hell no. As a matter of fact I’m trying to figure out how to give back the one we have.” This is a total lie of course. I adore KC. I just thought it might be amusing to see the shock on the face of anyone who doesn’t know I have a weird sense of humor. Obviously, this would be meant to get a laugh. Too bad I’m not ballsy enough to try it on a stranger.

Those who know me should understand I would never be annoyed or angry when innocently asked about this subject. It’s a natural question. It’s just hard to answer for some of us. As I wrote in Pt. I, I am feeling a little old lately. It’s hitting me that I’m edging toward the “too late” zone. Or maybe “too late” is a crappy way to put it. After all, plenty of people have babies in their forties now and it’s awesome. I just can’t help thinking how old I’d be if I wait a couple more years. How old when they are finishing college, getting married, etc. It’s weird. You take what I tried to explain in the other post about how I still feel so young and couple it with the reality that I am quite close to my forties in reality and, well, let’s just say I start to feel some pressure to “get on with it already”.

It’s a hard decision, yet it is simple really. I think it’s one that is made by the heart and not the head. The head has a tendency to complicate matters. Once we went ahead and said, “Yeah, I think we do want to.” it felt good. I have a few moments of panic when I think about the logistics of it…less time to do things for me; more money for daycare; more, like, people in this small house…the kind of stuff that really shouldn’t stop us. We will adapt. I know this. It will all work the way it needs to and it will be just fine.

I read something before I got pregnant with KC, when we were still in the throws of uncertainty about having children at all. I posted it on my fridge and it’s still there now:

“Had Mary been filled with reason, there would have been no room for the child.”

I loved it immediately. I am not an extremely religious person. However, that simple line made all the sense in the world. It is the essence of that decision to change your live forever. Whether we are speaking of THE Mary, or anyone else. Woman and man, woman and woman, man and man, single woman and big syringe to the “hoo-ha area”…whatever. I do not judge.

How soon will it happen you might ask? I’m not sure. It happens when (and if) it happens. All I know is, we are happy. We are terrified. We are always uncertain. However, we are ready. (I think. No, we are. I think.) It will be what it will be. You will be among the first to know when it’s official. Just do me a favor, don’t keep asking me the status of the situation. If you do, I will have to invent another sarcastic reply just for you.

Life at Full Speed – Part I

How in the hell did I get here? It occurs to me often that time is flying at an amazing rate. Despite my 36 (almost 37) years, I feel young inside my head. Like I might as well have just graduated from college last year. However, it’s been about 14 years since I finished school and at some point, when I wasn’t really paying attention, I grew up. All the way up. I started a career, became a wife and then a mother. I’ve been at my current job for 13 years. THIRTEEN YEARS, PEOPLE. Does anyone else have a hard time believing they are where they are? I’ll be 40 in less than 4 years and I just don’t feel that it’s possible.

I do (sort of) feel my age when I am around young people. Young as in teenagers and college kids. I don’t get carded anymore. When addressed in restaurants or stores I am a “Ma’am” and no longer a “Miss”. I am somebody’s Mom now. Ted and I often look at people and try to guess, “Do you think they are the same age as we are?” Sometimes, it’s obvious and sometimes we are surprised to find out they are the same age we are. And we were just thinking they looked old. It is a weird thing. Recognizing that other people probably see us that way too. They see us for exactly who we are: grown-ups.

When the hell did we become the dreaded “adults”? And who the hell let us have a kid anyway? Surely you must need permission for that sort of thing. No? How about a certification test…a license…a mentor program? No? Anyone can do it? Anytime? As many times as they want? Huh, right.

A few months back I was in a Hallmark store near my house. I went up to the register in time to catch a rather loud conversation between two young girls (20’s) and one older woman (I’ll guess 60ish). All three were employees behind the register. One of the young girls was talking about her children and expressing how she wouldn’t want to be an “older” mom. She pretty clearly implied that 30-something qualified as older and the tone was negative enough that it made me tense up. The 60ish woman looked a tad uncomfortable as well as I approached the register. I held my tongue, paid and left quietly. Part of me wanted to make some snide comment about how old I was and that I too was a mom. A recently established one and totally fine with it. I really wanted to make her feel a little bad. I’m not a bitch so I left it alone, but her comments stung. A lot. I walked out of there thinking how ignorant she was to say these things so loudly, not knowing who was in the store listening.

I guess to some people starting your married life and your family around age 30 is late. Not me. During my 20s I was practically living on a different planet compared to this chic. I feel like I suspended my youth for quite a while by simply focusing on school and just being “me” while I was her age. It wasn’t so much a choice as a result of my personal situation though. I guess I shouldn’t judge her. Maybe her circumstances brought true love early. Maybe beginning a family so young was an accident that just became her next phase. Maybe she has fielded lots of criticism for starting a family so young and she feels defensive about that whereas I feel defensive about being called an “older” mom. Maybe her tone wasn’t meant to be negative and I just heard a conversation out of context. Who knows.

Lately I look in the mirror and I see grey hairs fighting to take over (Praise be to Loreal Preference!). I see lines beginning to form. I notice subtle changes in my physical appearance that I don’t recall seeing before KC was born. (Stupid spider veins!) Having a child has changed me in so many ways both physical and mental. Looking at my daughter really drives home the fact that I am a kid no longer. Marriage started it, but having my daughter has forced me to accept it. It’s a transitional phase that I am in now. Who knows how long it will last. One thing is for sure, it won’t be the last transitional phase of my life.

The pressure is on now. Will we have another child? We’ve barely gotten over the shock of having one. I get “the speech” at my gyno visits about how I’d better think about doing it soon. Apparently the older a woman gets (there’s that “older woman” crap again), the more complications can arise. I love my doc, I really do. However, I’ve read all the books. She really doesn’t have to tell me the clock is ticking. I can hear it. Does it matter that I feel strong? That I feel young even if I am not the youngest mom at the playground? That’s got to count for something. Right?

The view from up here…

Tonight Ted asked me if I could remember not having a baby. Seriously? Hell YEAH, I can remember. It was a lot easier and waaaaay more relaxing. Of course I didn’t really appreciate it at the time. I mourn the loss of that pre-parenthood world often. Then I look at her amazing little face and I forget all about that. Yeah, it’s hard, but it’s totally worth it.

He claims he can hardly recall life before her. He says it seems like she’s been here forever. Well, we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one I guess. I think the past two years have flown by at an alarming rate and I recall very vividly when we were scared to take the leap into this new life.  Funny how our two experiences as parents can be so similar in so many ways, yet the view can be so different.

Different perspectives aside, the view from up here is pretty good.

Fear of Flying

Well, it’s almost arrived — vacation time! I am in the middle of packing the “world’s most crap that will never be worn on one trip”. (Seriously, there should be an award for that.) Tonight I aim to eliminate some of it so I can actually bring some clothes for KC too. I suppose making her rotate two outfits the whole time would be very uncool.

We leave early tomorrow morning. Ted’s Dad will be driving us to the airport. By noon we should be in our rental car and driving a couple more hours to Duluth. (If Avis doesn’t have the car seat I asked for you will hear me yelling all the way in Virginia.) It will be a long day, but hopefully worth it. We’ll be gone for more than a week. It’s a MUCH needed vacation for Ted and I. The pressure to have fun is HUGE. Ted won’t stop saying how awesome it’s going to be, etc.

Dear God, this better be fun.

This also happens to be the first time KC has ever flown on a plane. I am nervous as hell. I don’t really know why exactly. She’s a really good kid. People find her cute and charming. However, those people are typically passing by at the grocery store. Not stuck in the seat in front of her, or trying to sleep in the seats behind us. I am certain she’ll be her usual adorable self, but she’s very “active” these days. She likes to walk and run and explore. She’s full of energy and she’s just young enough that telling her to sit still is kind of a joke. Of course we plan to have stuff to entertain her, but it’s always the stuff she can’t have or can’t do that seems to lure her. I have this fear of the “tantrum to end all tantrums” when we try desperately to make her understand that “you have to sit in this seat until the captain says it’s ok to get up.” Yeah! Right. Even then, I don’t really want to get up and let her pace the aisles. Pain. In. The. Butt. That sounds like.

I pray to the Gods of airline travel (I’m talking to YOU, Knome!) that she’ll SLEEEEEP. (“She always sleeps in the car!” she said in a slightly manic tone.) Thank goodness it’s not a very long flight. We have one layover and I personally think that is a good thing. More opportunity for her to run around in the terminal and tire herself out. We shall see. I’ll be offline until after July 4th. I will definitely come back with photos and (hopefully) stories about how amazingly good she was on the plane!

Wow, you should have seen her! They were so impressed they gave her “wings” and let her sit in the cockpit! “Best kid ever on a plane!” the crew said. “You two are model parents!” all the passengers exclaimed.

If not then hopefully there will be stories that, while horrifying for us, will at least be entertaining for you. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

All Dads Go to Heaven

And by “Dads” I don’t mean simply men who sired children either. I mean DADS, real, honest-to-goodness DADS. The ones who grill for us, mow the lawn so we can play, pick us up and twirl around, or become a human swing on command. The guys who teach us how to do things like ride a bike, fish, paddle a canoe and paint an Easter egg with more pizazz than anything Martha Stewart could ever dream up. The men who often provide us our first jobs, our first cars, our first opportunity to build something. Our first real sense of pride and accomplishment.

Ted and I were lucky. We both had Dads like this. Dads who cared, who were fun and smart, who made us feel safe and alternately scared the crap out of us when we needed it. (Math grades come to mind for me.) Our Dads were responsible and held jobs to provide for us. They cheered for us and encouraged us. They pushed us sometimes too. All this because, they knew. This is what a good Dad does. This is what comes naturally when you love your children and your family.

Now I am lucky because my daughter has two amazing Grandfathers who helped mold her parents to be who they are now. And, of course, she got one pretty amazing Dad. Ted, you are so wonderful with KC. Fatherhood truly looks good on you. I know you will continue to be great at it. I’m sure there will be many hard days. I imagine you and KC will fight sometimes. I can already see she’s a lot like you! She’s got spunk and personality, she’s stubborn and also tough. She’s funny and silly. These things will get her through a lot of stuff and I know you will be right by her side. And mine too. Thank you for being such a wonderful husband and father.

Happy Father’s Day, Ted (aka Dada, Daddy and Dad)
Happy Father’s Day to my own Dad (aka “Gramps”)
Happy Father’s Day to Ted’s Dad, my Father-in-Law (aka  “Grandad”)

You guys are the greatest. Some might even say the World’s Greatest!

Just be yourself. Sometimes.

Disclaimer: This is long and kind of personal, but not personal in an innapropriate way, just personal in a truthful (yet not too truthful) way that makes for a really long and possibly boring post that reads like some pathetic chic’s diary entry. You might abandon it half way through. If you do, it’s ok. I’ll understand. I just need to get it out and write it down ’cause it’s been a very real issue for way too long and it’s finally being dealt with. Kind of. It’s a start anyway.

*****

Is it ok to change yourself to please someone else, or make a relationship work? I think the answer is yes and no. At the core, we are who we are and shouldn’t have to change it much to make someone like us, or to please the people around us. However, relationships (especially marriage) are complicated things. It’s a two-way street…a game of give and take…it’s full of compromises. It’s kind of like a full time job in that it takes work. A lot of work. And patience. And understanding. Don’t forget patience and understanding. Sometimes it needs a lot of forgiveness too.

Ted and I aren’t perfect. (I know! You’re shocked aren’t you?) We have some issues. Not “deal breaker” issues, but issues just the same. We mainly have trouble communicating with each other. I tend to hold everything in and I HATE (and I do mean HATE) confrontation. I HATE (again with the emphasis) having someone mad at me, or yelling at me. And, of course I HATE yelling and getting mad at someone myself. I dislike it so much that I tend to fool myself into thinking I am fine with things I am not fine with just to avoid having to tell someone how I’m feeling. The things that I shove down get under my skin and fester for a while, causing me to do that annoying thing where you say, “I’m fine.” But really? Not fine, and then my mood sucks, and I didn’t get the issue off my chest. Everybody loses.

Ted also has some trouble letting me know how he’s feeling, but it’s different with him. While he doesn’t yell and fight with me on a regular basis, he does have a tendency to be quick with the bad mood and the crappy remarks. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most of the time. He’s stressed due to work, or his health (arthritis mainly) and he snaps at whoever is in the vicinity. Usually me. He’s quick to switch back and forth from crabby to happy too. It’s like a roller coaster sometimes. A roller coaster I never get off of because I’m too busy being upset to realize the ride is over.

Typical male behavior I think (forgive me males, for generalizing). They get annoyed, lash out, get over it, move on to happy…all in the space of 30 minutes or so. I hold onto my annoyance/anger (that I never expressed to begin with) for a whole lot longer. Like a day or more. It makes for one big vicious cycle where somebody is annoyed pretty much all of the time, and both parties are annoyed at least half the time. Suckage.

It came to kind of a head recently. I won’t go into the gory details, but we’ll just say the constant “cold attitude” from me and his not being able to curb the bad tempered remarks made for a not-so-romantic couple. The not-so-romantic trend had been around for way too long already in all honesty, and it was just getting worse. Add to that the understandable stress of parenthood, finances, work and life in general…sigh…and it’s no wonder that after six years of marriage we are finally hitting one of those “ruts” or “bumpy spots” you hear so much about.

The good part is that Ted and I do have an awful lot of positive stuff in common. Love for one another for starters. Respect and also that awesome sense of humor we both seem to have in spades. (Thank the Lord for that.) The “rut” seems to be filling in. For now anyway. We sort of talked about how we don’t really talk (um, yeah…still not good at talking) but most importantly I (me, myself and I) looked inward a bit to figure out just what the hell my (our) problem was.

I decided to try acting a little less like the stressed, annoyed, cold fish of a wife who’s just tired of being, well, annoyed. I also am trying to stop being so damn sensitive every time he gets pissy and directs it toward my area of the room. I am too sensitive. That’s a fact. Truth is, I KNOW that most days when Ted gets grumpy and speaks to me in a less-than-polite way it’s totally nothing personal. (Usually.) A lot of the time I instinctively know that I should leave him alone for short while and I do. Another truth? I probably do the same thing to him sometimes. He just doesn’t get as irritated by it for as long as I do. (Remember that 30 minute vs. a full day thing?)

Another thing I am doing is to be honest about the fact that he’s very physically affectionate. He loves to touch me and to be touched. For some odd reason that stuff doesn’t come as naturally for me. Not that I don’t like my husband, but I’m not a particularly “needy” person when it comes to touch. He is. I’ve been trying to remember that just thinking in my head that I love him, or that he looks cute isn’t the same as actually saying it to him out loud. Likewise, I need to remember to give him a little squeeze or a kiss even if it’s not what I totally crave at the moment. He probably does need it.

This marriage thing is seriously a learning curve. Ted also has attempted to change some of his habits in dealing with me and our life in general. (Just so you don’t think I am the only one doing any work here!) He actually said to me this weekend, “Thanks for being so nice to me lately.” Sounds odd, but it made me really happy. I hadn’t told him my plan to adjust my interactions with him and it was kind of cool to see that he’d noticed it. I told him about how I figured that I could probably do a better job of letting him know I cared, and how I was trying to not get so bent out of shape at every single less-than-happy reaction/comment he had over some dumb thing or another. It’s working for the moment. He’s happier and so he’s not doing the stuff that gets me “bent” as much. We had a pretty awesome weekend as a result.

I’ll keep this up as best I can. Now that he’s onto me, I think he’ll also try to do the same. Hopefully this cycle of “being nice” will trump the other cycle of stress and shit that was spinning around this house. I’m not stupid, I know bad days will come and go. With practice, however, I hope in a few more years the “being nice” stuff will come more naturally to the point where we don’t have to try so hard.

Then again, maybe 10 years from now I’ll have grown so tired of his crap that I’ll have him locked in the garage with a small cot and a toothbrush…surviving off the kindness of neighbor’s leftovers and beer from his buddies while KC and I live luxuriously in the house by ourselves…shoe shopping online and ordering out every night of the week because neither of us can cook for shit.

Just kidding. I think. Thanks for listening.