Bitty babies and cheese fondue.

I think this is withdrawl.

The time after a weekend filled to the brim with all those people you love the most and want to hug the most.
And then you leave.
And you can't.
Hug them.
But you can still love them.

And you can remember that these kids have the most exclusive club going.


And these kids want to be where the action is.


And this kid's cheeks were sent from the heavens to be filled with smooches.

And cheese fondue is always the answer.

She who cycles to work.

There is a woman who cycles to work. When I first passed her this summer several thoughts entered my mind:

1. They really make spandex that big?
2. They really make women that big?
3. If anyone should be cycling to work, it is her. Though it looks really painful. And awkward.

Keep in mind this is in an area of our country where pedaling to commute somewhere is practically unheard of. And, she happened to be cycling along the busiest road I travel from my home to work.

Yet she cycles.

I've seen her in the rain.

I've seen her go up hill. R-E-A-L-L-Y slowly.

I've seen her with flashing lights strapped to her back and ankles. Cycling home well after sunset.


Today I pulled up behind a cyclist on my way into work. She looked like a real bicycle commuter. Fit, fast, and confident. And one thought entered my mind:

1. Wow, other women cycle to work too.

And then I realized that it was the same woman as the one I'd seen for several months.

Only she was a smaller version of her old self.

I became really proud for her. And thankful to have watched her succeed.

And I wanted to shout out my window: YOU ARE AN INSPIRATION!!!!

But she pulled ahead at the green light, and cycled under the Merritt Parkway.

And she didn't look back.

Christmas glimpses...

I couldn't resist!
(My crazy flying lady!)



I was bursting at the seams!
(Big CTS balls! Knew I needed those!)



I am in the spirit!
(My homemade stockings! Made one inside out by accident! It's ok though. I am dealing.)

Happy Hour.

Doing Great Things, Like Saving Land. Forever

The career I've chosen is all wrapped up in a hard to comprehend time line.
I work and work and work to save land from development. Forever.

But forever is so far away. So far.

I spend most of my days wondering how to make people understand that forever is a really long time. And in order to protect land (forever) we need money that will last that long.

Instead of becoming a doctor. I became a tree hugger.

Instead of becoming a chef. I decided I wanted to grapple with "forever" day in and day out.

How long is forever?

I'm starting to realize that it is Really long.

Saving land is a noble act. Those who donate their land are such selfless individuals I can't even imagine! Can't even wrap my head around it! So visionary!

Imagine: Loving land so much, that you just want to save it, in its natural state, so that all who pass by and trample the grass with excitement - have the OPPORTUNITY to love it as you do.

I get nervous some times when I see the dumpsters in driveways, houses being re-built to three times their size. I get nervous that the highways are getting wider and more and more beautiful natural areas are shrinking.

I get nervous that my children won't look out their car window in 10 years and see wooded landscapes or vistas of rolling fields and second growth forests. I get nervous that all they will see are impervious surfaces like driveways, and rooftops, roads and buildings.

But then, I remember why I stay up so late working on lists and letters and trying to raise money (despite this desperate economy).

Doing great things, like saving land. Forever.

I work so that my children will have future days speckled with green meadows, majestic pines, soaring hawks, and trickling streams.

Dec & Nonie will know these things because today at work, I did great things.
I saved land.
Forever.

Not this kid....

So I slunk the kid into school today with a hat on his head. I tried not to look anyone in the eye as I went past the front desk and into the room. I was looking for the big STOP sign with a picture of a creepy crawly on it warning of HEAD LICE!! FOUND HERE...then a picture of Xave's noggin.

I thought we would be black listed.

No signs, coast is clear.

But of course as we open the door to the room the director of the day care walks out, looks me in the eye and whispers, "how is he?"

I reply saying fine, and shrug my shoulders, not wanting to draw attention to any our conversation.

No sideways glances from the teachers (well maybe one).

And no, maybe it wasn't the work of the louse that put the bites into Xave's head. Perhaps it was the shears used for his first official haircut at Supercuts, but I put out the red alert, and the worst that could have happened is a complete cleaning of the room. Can't be a bad thing to do in this season of illness.

But really look at that face.

Couldn't be his fault.

The truth.

The truth is, Eric be's better at blood than he be's at fevers.
It's ok that I am telling you this. I told him so just an hour ago.

That is because I had a very lovely glass plate. But I did not have a large lid for my pan.

So I used my plate to cover me pan to cook my rice.

Until... oh until. The plate slid off the pan and before shattering into approximately 1.674 million pieces on the floor, it hit my foot.

I said "that kind of hurt" and then started cleaning up glass while my rice got cold.

When I stood up I noticed a spot on my sock. Remembering the plate had fallen on my foot I thought "blood" and "I hope these are my socks".

True story! Everywhere is no lie! Well kind of a lie but a small one.

Eric said "put your foot in the tub!"

And he cleaned up the glass. And wiped up the red stuff I trailed into the bathroom (gross!)

Then he made me a tourniquet out of the bandana that I hope got washed after I used it during that day last week that I went to school with a super boogy nose.

Then we ate cold rice. And then he let me lie on the couch with my foot up while he scraped the cold rice and other such delights out of the pans and cleaned them. And he told me it looked pretty deep and put some goopy stuff on the scene of the crime.


So I told him "you be's better at blood than fevers" and he said "what? I have never repaired a FEMUR break". I laughed a bit, and said no FEVERS.

And he said "Oh... but I ASKED".
But this time, he just DID.

And it was nice.

The way things look (in 5 parts)

A photo essay...

1) Tights.

Questionable. I had second thoughts on these this morning but it was too late. I was in the parking lot at school. I wondered to myself "are these fishnets??" Throughout the day I got lots o' "compliments". Mostly "those are great tights". As I walked out to my car at 3:00 I thought, you know, there is a difference between "those are great tights" and "those tights look great". Also, they make me look squat. Out with the tights!

2) Pumpkins.

Tired. Only pumpkins left on the block and I realized it is high past the season to be decorating with pumpkins. They can't wait to be recycled next week! You'll see.

3) Loot.

Festive. With only hours to spare (dozens of them) I cashed in on my CTShops coupons. Who knew I needed 2 large green and red balls with gold sparkle paint? Me! I also shared a coupon with a priest who was (I can only assume) buying all (3 of the) religious Christmas items to decorate his Church. Cruise control to Heaven!

4. Neighbor's Christmas Tree.

Ripe. Can you say JEALOUS? Is it extra green or is that the envy oozing from my eyeballs?

5. Neighbor's Golden Retriever.

Drooly. Oh wait, that's me. Is this dog green too? It's so hard to tell. Thank goodness both the neighbors are at class so I can sneak onto their back porch and take snapshots of their things. Surprise!

Deep (dish) thoughts.

I would like to talk to you honestly and openly about pizza.

After four nights of wilting on the couch my tired body did not want much. Unbeknown to me it had already come down with quite the case of swine flu and was morphing into bronchitis.
No I didn't want much more. Actually, I didn't want what I didn't know I had.
You still with me?
So when Friday night dinner rolled around and Eric asked what I might want to eat (seeming to understand that I would not be the one cooking) I said "maybe some of the pizza in the freezer". Really I had been thinking about that freezer-pizza for a few hours. Now it seemed so close!
Upon freezer inspection he reported that we did not have any pizza. (When did he eat that? I now wonder).
Oh.
"But I can go to the corner store and buy some".
Lest I catch you thinking "Aw what a guy" let me rewind to the night before. When he told me he could go down to said corner store for some Vick's Vapor rub because it is just so great and he loves it so much and it will work wonders and I just had to have it. I waited. He never left the house.
I knew the pizza was just a mirage. Maybe the whole corner store was.
"No, it's ok".
I wasn't really that hungry anyway. Truly. I was pizza. You know? It was Friday night. Isn't that the ultimate Friday night dinner? But really, I wasn't hungry. In case you are wondering what happened... I lived to see Saturday morning.
As I lay quarenteened at Tese's house for the day Saturday I began to realize that she truly was not going to let me go home. I surrendered into my corner of the couch and watched four more hours of the Little Couple. That Bill is a hoot!! I did not lift a finger all day. That really happens when you're sick?
Maddy and Andrew came pack from a birthday party with a hot pizza. AT LONG LAST! My tummy smiled.
I came home this morning for just long enough to mumble something about "needing to go to Stowe to get some TLC" within Eric's earshot and headed out for a previously planned trip to Target with a pal. Before I left Eric asked something about would I want dinner tonight. It was 10 am.

When I got home he asked me.......
"How about some pizza?"

He is in the kitchen.

Making it from scratch.

That makes for two nights in a row.



It should have been three.
(I mean... thank you.)

WKRP

Thinking about names and how we come up with them.
I have never had a problem with my name.
Not sure if I say it correctly, and not so sure I love it when people ask if its spelled the boys way, or if I say my name and then the person replies, "oh hi Anne".
But I like my name.
I have stashes of names stored up for upcoming children I hope to have (and no this is not an announcement).

Today as we fled the homestead to allow Maria to get down to business, we hit up a local establishment for some hot wings.
Then it came on the radio, a jingle from a t.v. show that was on the air more than 20 years ago (must be around 26 years ago).
The theme song from WKRP in Cincinatti.
Not sure how I know that, as t.v. was not allowed, must have been right before a cord cutting.


And then I remembered.
When mom and dad sat us down to tell us about Ourleen.
She was coming.
And I had a name picked out for her. If she was a boy. Which we didn't know then.





Johnny Fever.




XOXO Ourleen! Feel better! I'm glad you are Ourleen and not Johnny.

Sweet Maria

I wonder how so many can be in so much pain,
while others don't seem to feel a thing.
Then I curse my whiteness and I get so damn depressed.
In a world of suffering, why should I be so blessed?

(More from Brett Dennen. The amazing Brett Dennen - or have I said that already?)

But a morning with sweet Maria and those words sum up the feelings deep in my heart....

Thanks Mom. Were you trying to fuel my inner spark by sending Sweet Maria my way this morning? 'Cause if so....




It worked.

Brownie Soup

Today, Bernice's Brownies didn't quite turn out the way they were supposed to.

And since that is all that wasn't quite right for me today - I'd say the day was pretty spectacular.

Plus, I know people in high places when it comes to brownies. I shouldn't even bother trying.

This was my day. November 12. 2009.

All I remember is Declan knocking on the tiny window next to his bed and his whispering words, "bye daddy, have a good day...".

Shortly after that - he was nestled on "Daddy's side of the bed" watching the Imagination Movers while I latched on in desperation to those last luscious moments of bed laziness before the day begins. They were... luscious.

20 minutes later - Nonie was break-dancing in her crib. Before it collapsed beneath her, I scooped her up - a**plosion and all - and changed her into her cozy (BUT CUTE!) outfit for the day.

Breakfast was Raisin Bran with extra raisins dropped from eyebrow distance from yours truly. We Wheels always need extra raisins. They make our smile bigger.

I pretend "raced" Dec to get dressed. I won, but then had to pretend that I had many other things to do while he buttoned up his shirt (which was worn by Connor and Maddy then lovingly passed along to Himself...)... I could see the leaves whirling outside - gray autumn sky swirling about and all of a sudden it became an "Auntie Peg sweater" kind of day. The handknit sweater vest from Ireland went on with excitement. Who knew? Vests? This is the 3rd year he's worn it. Vests are the bests.

"You're the last one to get dressed!", bombed Dec's voice at me as I finished the last button on his polo. "No honey, I am dressed. And THIS is as good as I'm gonna look - may look like PJs to you - but this is definitely my outfit for the day - now go grab your school bag and shoes....gotta get going or we'll be the last ones there..."

We took extra time this morning to make sure there were no extra lumps in his socks. Who likes lumps? Not Lily. This I know for a fact.

I kissed the back of Nonie's neck 24 times. She laughed.

Murphy got a good few kisses from me before he raced away. He laughed.

On the way to school we listened to music REALLY LOUD. I don't even remember the songs. I can only remember three heads bopping in agreement with the tunes.

Exchanges in the PRMS parking lot were brief and friendly. Other Mom's looked as frazzled as me. Am I not the only one? Wow.

At CTShops we delighted everyone we could find by giving out 20% off coupons. Call us Santa, Kris Kringle - whatever you want - but we shared the wealth and it was appreciated.

Almost bought Nonie a princess headband set. Almost. But then the real me kicked in and said - what the hell are you thinking. She's a silk flower kind of girl.

Gave the lovely man who pumped our gas a CMT coupon. It felt just right. If I could only be a philanthropist. That is my calling in life. Of this, I am sure.

The rain started, just as we pulled in to pick Dec up. We scooted home to our cozy house for a cozy lunch and changed in to our cozy clothes.

We built the train tracks into the most unimaginable layout. We played. Around and around they went. Ugh Nonie. Around and around they went. Ugh Nonie.

Nonie soon learned that sitting on the tracks and then scooting with them stuck under her bottom is a "no no".

Nonie was joyful. All she wanted was to be included. That is, Nonie and her 36 stuffed-animal entourage. Emah, remember that seal stuffed animal you and Bri got for Dec in San Fran? That is one of the animals dragged around by Nonie all day. Safety in numbers, I guess.

Then Nonie walked. Then Nonie scooted. Train tracks scooted.

Nonie went down for a nap. Dec looked relieved.

Dec watched a Diego video. In Spanish.

I worked to "save trees". Trees! Hooray for Trees!

Snack was peanut butter and honey on grahamies for Dec and plain grahamies for me and Nonie. Fresh squeezed apple cider for all. Extra chilled to soothe our teething gums. Hey, one for all - all for one around these parts.

Daddy walked in through the door and happy children's faces stretched to an even happier state. How is this possible? I wondered. Then wondered some more.

Then it became clear when these words were spoken from Daddy:

"Hey Dec, do you know what the best part of my day was today? When you knocked on your tiny window next to your bed and waved goodbye to me."

We gathered round as Dec worked on his "homework". Spanish worksheets received praise from all - even Nonie.

Nonie played with magnets on the fridge.

I saved even more trees. Imagine that?!

Dinner as a family. Loud. Loud. And tasty. Thank God for the tasty cause loud, loud and loud would have been a bit much.

Nonie into the bubble bath. Drinking from a tiny plastic red square she snuck into the bathtub from her shape-sorter down the hall. Gotta keep our eye on her - she is a real scalliwag these days.

Dec and Daddy downstairs re-capping the day.

Clean baby wants to walk. Back and forth to Daddy. To Mommy delivering toys. To Daddy. To Mommy. Oooops.... roadblock: aka jealous sibling.

Jealous Dec sets up booby traps. His feet. His Hess Trucks. Throwing tennis balls at her innocent feet. These all make Nonie stumble. But, fall - she does not. Thatta girl!

Clean baby is kissed and handed to Daddy.

Dec clings to my kneecaps and kisses them repeatedly.

In the car, NPR re-caps the day's news. I call Lily and leave a message letting her know I'm thinking of her.

Emah has been on the elliptical for 15 minutes by the time I arrive.

I burn 330 calories.

We head to a local establishment after the gym to catch up. Calories are put back on. Of this, I am sure.

Drive home. The music is loud. My head bops as I wonder about my 2 other favorite bopping heads. Will they be sleeping when I get home? If they are - is this a good thing? Or a bad thing?

Catch up with the hubby.

Babies are sleeping. Heads are resting on pillows. This is good.

Computer looks are me and asks me how my day was.

And so...

This was my day.

Luckily...

... I had myself a little bit of a "sick day" today and was able to troubleshoot some computer problems that have plagued me as of late.

Backup.

Not "sick day" like when I caught THE BUG in PR last year and barfed all day, passed out in the shower and missed my flight back to New Orleans. No! Not that fun! This "sick day" had some similar characteristics of that ol' OINK OINK thing going around. It involved A LOT of sweating. Do you want to know more? So I get out of bed around lunch time and break into the most RIDICULOUS sweat. Shower and laundry ensued.

Well anyway I found (through reading old CJane posts from 2006... research) I just needed to switch web browsers and then I would be able to upload pics all day long!!

Did you even know how much fun we had up there??
I think Dec only asked "When's Maddy coming" about 8 times. What? Doesn't he love babies?!?

Every moment...

How does one even remember the moments not captured in a picture?

Years from now I want to remember what this looked like, and the image in my brain is all I will have.

With a belly full of sweet and savory food I sat on Maddy's bedroom floor and watched her play her violin. I got to listen to her navigate through a new song "it is just the most beautiful song" she warned me before she started.

And it was. I watched her, 21 years my junior, in wonder. How do you commit yourself to remembering these small moments? She is not even *MINE* and I want to remember this simple thing. Her stripes and her pigtails and her fingers moving over the strings. Living in the moment for this song and this place and these people.

It was a magical day. The sun shone and thanksgiving came early because good grief I am thankful for the things that are mine, and not, today.

Power in Numbers

We are FAR more powerful when we move in the same direction(s).


I GOTTA FEELIN' THE BLACK EYED PEASE

Not At All What I Thought

* the glow in the picture = birthday candles on the cake

When I awoke this morning, I was envisioning a different kind of day. I thought it would be busy but mello, productive and relaxing. A day with ample time with both kids doing puzzles, hugging stuffed animals, and playing games like memory and war. I thought (foolishly) that I'd have ample time with my sweet sister after dinner at the gym getting rid of the spare tire and we'd chase our time spent burning calories catching up over a glass of wine at the Ancient Mariner or another, fun, local establishment.

But, as the clock quickly ticks toward 9pm, I realize my day wasn't any of those things.

Not one.

And , I think I'm most surprised by dinner.

Dec and I spent a fair amount of time prepping dinner earlier this afternoon - he peeled potatoes, I spiced and diced and experimented with sauces and veggies. When we slipped the pans into the oven, we were both tired, exhausted even... but proud and eager to eat the fruits of our labor.

But dinner wasn't really appreciated today. Or eaten at all - for that matter. At least, not the dinner we prepared.

The day unfolded into a blur of crying-teething-vomiting- 1 year old. And cranky-begging-for attention 4 year old. It was topped off by crazed Mom (that'd be me) trying to please all, do some "real" work, and keep the house. Tidy.

But all day the words that kept me going were ones that I'd heard from my own Mother in past moments of despair. My mother, a mother of SEVEN.

Never be attached to a plan. Don't ever have firm expectations about how the day will go. Be flexible.
Be flexible.

So, it was poor Dame up with Nonie as I pulled dinner out of the oven. He rocked her - and she responded by wailing harder and harder.

In the tense kitchen I looked at Dec. He'd had a day of "your sister doesn't feel well". Poor kid.

I opened the fridge to fill his glass of milk and spotted a perfectly good carrot cake (except for one piece missing - thanks T). Gran's Bday cake - with candles and all. I asked Dec to invite his Thomas the Train and Friends for a special birthday party. He quickly scooped up his favorites and started to talk in those cut-off cute sentences that he gets when he gets way excited about something.....

Suddenly, he set the table. Very very willingly.

We set out a special Thomas the Train place mat for the trains to sit on during dinner. Lit candles - Dec dimmed the lights. Even Nonie got her own train ("Molly") to sit at her at the table. About 30 seconds into the meal, I noticed no one was really eating our gourmet dinner. So, I walked to the cupboard, grabbed our huge Tupperware of Cheerios and from then on the "Cheerio Trains" delivered dinner to the 2 kids and admittedly, their 2 parents. Cheerios. Dry. That's what I ate for dinner.

When the Cheerio Trains had run out of steam, we lit the candles on the cake and sang happy birthday to Diesel, Thomas, Mighty Mack, Molly and one other that I can't remember...

Declan inhaled two pieces of carrot cake.

And, after her generous shipment of Cheerios from the Cheerio Train, "Nonie the sickie" ate a full fig newton bar and a piece of carrot cake with extra frosting.

As I sipped a glass of red wine I couldn't help but think - this is not the dinner that I planned earlier this afternoon. Not at all what I thought. But I also couldn't help but think:

I bet mom sat at many a dinner like this and enjoyed the same thought.
And I never knew.

Until now.

Floaters

There were floaters in the tub today.

This is a first for me.

I didn't recognize them.

They were foreign.

I don't know how they came to be (I mean I KNOW, but I didn't SEE the ACTION).

They look different in the tub.

And unlike CADDY SHACK, no one (AKA Xave) was screaming DOODY.....

He was calm.

He was cool.

He was collected.

He was handing them to me.

One by one.

With a big S*** eating grin on his face.

Literally.

And I took them.

With my bare hands.

Because I am a mom now.

And that's what you do.

Apparently.

And then we drained the water and took a shower together.

ps....we did not have a photo op with said floaters, so another picture will have to suffice

Stuck Heads & A Moment of Genius

For some reason, we have lots of clothes that are 3/4 zip down the front. Pullover. Generous zipper. And for most kids, it shouldn't be a problem to get the clothing off and on. But for my children.... oh boy. The minute an item comes remotely close to their chin, they start wiggling, head bobbing, and thrashing about to make the actual "painless" motion of lifting the clothing over their head - really hard and really painful.

Dec cringes at certain pieces of clothing and even refused to wear them for a few weeks. It got to the point where prying them over his enormous noggin' just wasn't worth the pain and tears so I agreed. We moved those items to the top shelf. To collect dust.

But then, a moment of pure genius struck me. Why not face the zipper toward the back during the getting dressed/undressed process. This way, it won't even be near the chin, face or other sensitive areas. Then, when it is safely on, spin the clothing around and proceed from there.

After a ton of pleading, I tried my new strategy on Dec.

It worked.

No tears, no scratched chin, face, forehead. Smoothe as butter.

And I only write about this because:

On Friday when I picked Dec up from school, his teacher pulled me aside and said that she raised 3 children and has been dealing with the stuck head situation for many years as a teacher and never once thought to spin the clothing around. (Apparently Dec coached her on the technique that day....). Then, get this. She said I was a *genius*.

And I believe her.