Glorious Weekend

Shopping garage sales with my hubby, giddy with the knowledge that we were alone together.

Dinner and dessert with B and Stacey at Cheesecake Factory, then wandering the bookstore until it closed, mostly just chatting.

Taking Miles to the farmer's market, and reveling in the compliments from strangers on how cute he was in his little overalls.

Long, glorious naps in the middle of the day.

Stir fry made with veggies fresh from the market.

Exploring a local park, and watching Miles' delight when he saw the "Duck! Cack! Cack!" on the lake (even though it was actually a goose).

A quiet, lazy Monday, that ended with delicious steaks marinated with a sauce I designed on the fly.

Sunshine, and cool breezes.  Long walks, and holding hands with my hubby, and the joy of toddler giggles.

Perfection.

Bad Mommy Mondays

Here goes.  I've gotten a couple of doozies recently.

1. I have left Miles with a babysitter for three out of the past four days.  The first two were relatively necessary, so I could get some work done.  The third was purely selfish.  I left him with Stacey in the morning while Patrick and I went looking at garage sales, and then left Miles with Patrick that night, so the girls and I could go out.  I didn't even feel all that guilty.*
2. At work, I sometimes put up a baby-gate enclosure to keep Miles contained.  Apparently, he looks like 'a caged animal' (which, I gather, is a bad thing).  Meh.  It allows him maximum freedom, while allowing my co-workers maximum sanity. I'd say that's win-win.
3. I don't always cage him.  Often, he is allowed to run the halls of the office, checking in with everyone to say hello and hang out for awhile.  Now, if I could just count on him to not crawl/climb/open/slam/otherwise maim ever piece of everything in the office. . .
4. At twenty months old, he still has a pacifier for naps and bedtime.  And when he's having a really bad day.  Or is teething.  And, he can ask for it, with a sign he invented (basically, he sticks his pointer finger in his mouth).  I've been told that once he can ask for it, he's too old to still have it.  I don't care.  I finally have the child to a point that he sleeps without (too much) complaint.  And if that means we hold on to the pacifier a little longer, so be it.
5. We have already converted Miles' crib into a toddler bed so he can get in and out on his own.  I was warned that it's a bad idea for children under three to be in a toddler bed.  I disagree.  The transition to the toddler bed has led to a far easier bedtime routine, less fuss when he wakes up, and an overall longer amount of sleep, both overnight and during naps.  Plus, it prevents him climbing the furniture to get in and out of it, which, I'm told, is highly dangerous.  Apparently, I should have put a crib tent on, instead.  Because, you know, we should cage our children. . .but only at bedtime, I guess. :)

*Once I got past the guilt of having him peeled off of me and screaming as I drove away. . . <sigh>

I'm Self-Unaware

When I posted last week about my bad day, I had a couple of people wondering why I don't talk about these things in real life.  Here's why:

I'm bad with words, in real time.  And I'm worse with understanding and putting words to my emotions.

Writing here is not simply a safe place, though that's part of it.  It's also a place where I can take the time to sort through what I feel, and what I have felt, and find the proper words to explain myself.  Writing opens my brain, allows me to analyze myself in ways that are simply impossible when I'm in the moment.  When I am struggling, my instinct is to do whatever I have to in order to get through the day.  It's not until later, when I have a quiet moment, that I am able to work through why I'm struggling.

In other words, I'm just not good at understanding what goes on in my own head.  What you read here on those occasions is the result of self-analysis.  It's not that I don't want to talk about these things out loud, or that I'm afraid to.  I simply can't.

So, there's your annoyingly long explanation.  Here's a cute picture of Miles to make up for it. :)

Battles & Blessings

Battles:

• Monday.  All of it.
• Panic sucks.
• Tornado sirens induce panic.
• I have heard the tornado sirens far more this week than I usually do in an entire summer. 
• Exhaustion.  Partially brought on by anxiety-induced insomnia.  And partially because I was just dumb and stayed up too late.
• Leaving Miles all day Thursday and Friday.  He did fine.  I did. . . less than fine.
• Stressful office environment.  Thus, the lack of Miles.

Blessings:

• None of my friends or family were affected by severe weather in any significant way.
• A basement to hide in when the sirens go off.  
• A son who is trusting and well-behaved, even when he doesn't understand what's going on.
• Time to read.  Even if I carved it out of my sleep time.
• Time with my hubby this morning.
• Time out with the girls tonight.
• Chai tea
• Friends and family who step in to help with Miles whenever I ask.
• An opportunity to dress nicely for work.  Not something I usually bother with, when I take Miles along.
• A picnic dinner in the park with my family.  Bliss.
• An incredibly productive two days at the office.

Friday Photos!

I Have Never Felt More Like a Working Mom

This morning, in just a little while, I will be dropping Miles off with a baby-sitter for the entire day, while I head off to work.  And I am a mess about it.

Work is going to be stressful today and tomorrow, and given that Miles tends to pick up on that, I chose to leave him with Amy today, and with Aunt Ninell tomorrow.  It's two days.  It's only two stinking days.

And yet, I am a mess.  I keep worrying over how he'll handle it.  How it will feel to drive away from him.  How much worse it will be if he's upset.  How I'll spend the whole day wondering if he's eating, if he's napping well, if he's happy.

It's going to be a loooong day.

Quack! Quack!

When Miles wakes up in the morning, I let him play for a few minutes before I go get him.  It allows me time to finish up what I'm doing, and it helps him build independence.  Plus, he usually wakes up grouchy, and a little quiet time often goes a long way toward improving his mood.

Monday morning, I was sitting in the living room, listening to him on the monitor, and waiting for him to yell, "Mom!"  After a few minutes I heard, "Mom-mom!  Cack!  Cack! Cack! Duck!"  I was laughing so hard.  The kid is obsessed with ducks and walks around quacking all the time.  After a couple of minutes of this, I finally went in to get him.

I found him naked from the waist down, and playing in a puddle of his own making, utterly proud of himself.  "Mom-mom!  Hi, Mom-mom!" he said, "Duck! Cack! Cack!"

Apparently, this was a fun game, because he has woken up this way three days in a row, now.  So, other mommas: how do/did you keep diapers on a toddler who is way too smart for his own good?

Bad Day

I talk a lot on here about the progress I've made, and the good days I've had.  Because I am relieved that they keep coming.  And I'm optimistic that they are becoming the norm, instead of the exception.  But sometimes, I still have a bad day.

Yesterday was a bad day.  Our weekend was way busier than I had intended, and Miles' schedule got thrown entirely out of whack.  So, when Monday rolled around and it was time for work, Miles was not his normal cheerful self about it.

In fact, he screamed most of the day.  It was miserable.

Many attempts were made to cheer the child up.  Each was met with more and more screaming.  Eventually, I talked a young man who works there to take Miles for a walk around Faire Site so I could think.  As soon as they left the office, I put my face in my hands, and had a quiet little panic attack.  How the hell am I going to handle him all summer long if he has trouble with a couple of days a week?  How am I going to get anything accomplished with a screaming toddler demanding my attention?  If he and I can't handle a low-key Monday, how are we ever going to manage the stress-storm that is the final Friday before we open?

If I hadn't been at work, I would have cried.*

Instead, I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face.  I breathed.  I tugged on my hair, willing myself to think about something - anything - other than the panic rising in my chest.  I sat on the cold (nasty) bathroom floor with my knees pulled up to my chest, using the calm, quiet, safe place to calm down.

And then I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and exited as though nothing was wrong.  Even now, when everyone knows about my PPA, I still can't admit to people when I'm actually having an attack.  I don't know why.  I just . . . can't.

Hours later, as I sat at the computer at home, in the quiet of the evening, while Patrick and Miles took a walk, I still felt that edge of panic.  All of my triggers, all reasons for panic were gone, and yet, the panic remained, steely and sickening in my chest.

So, when I sat down to write today's post, I wanted to be positive.  I wanted to be the optimistic person you have all seen recently.  But, it's just not in me to lie right now.  I had a bad day.  And that's okay.  As hard as I try, I can never make every day a good one.

Today, I will try again.

*I have this weird thing that I cannot cry in front of people I work with.  I don't know why.  I just physically cannot make myself cry at work.  I wish I could.  It would have been a nice release.

Lessons of Mommyhood

1. Mashed banana looks a lot like snot when it is wiped on fabric.
2. An off-leash dog park is a great place to take a toddler.  You can even let him off-leash, too, since it's fenced.
3. I am no longer important, except as Miles' transportation.
4. Just because the toddler liked a certain food yesterday (or earlier today, or five minutes ago) doesn't mean he likes it now.
5. Never - and I mean never leave your coffee where the toddler can get to it.  Bad things.  Trust me.

Congratulations!

If you are here and reading this, you are a heathen.  High five.  Me, too!

Either that, or crazy guy was wrong.  If only we could have predicted that he was going to be incorrect, based on the fact that he's been wrong before. . .

Oh, wait. . .

Battles & Blessings

Battles:

• Trying to keep up on the housework.  It's just so easy to let it slide.
• Evening tantrums from Miles.  Not exactly sure why.
• Not really much else.  It has been a good week. :)

Blessings:

• Things are beginning to click.  I haven't had a real, full-on panic attack all week.  I have had a few close calls, where I could feel them coming, but I was able to ward off the worst of them.  I spent those days with an edge of panic, but no full-blown paralyzing attacks.
• Lots of fun outings with my son.  And none of them ended in tantrums.
• A huge increase in Miles' attempts to communicate.  He is starting to figure out how to get my attention and 'use his words', and he is becoming so much more patient with me as I figure out what he needs.
• Friends who have kept me sane and busy this week.
• An afternoon to myself, and an evening alone with my hubby.  All thanks to the wonderful Aunt Ninell. Love her.
• The prospect of another fun rehearsal with my kiddos today, followed by a nice, quiet weekend with my family. <content sigh>

Friday Photos!

Parents-to-be comparing their bumps.
(His is the tissue paper from all their gifts.) :)

Miles stops to take a very important call.

Oooh! Oooh! Pick me!!! (aka One-handed "Ta-da!")

Looking way too grown up.

Sneaking a cheese puff at the baby shower.
He now has a rash to show for it. :(

Helping Daddy fix the baby gate.

Sporting the Static Hair look after a ride on the slide.

My happy boy.

"Wher'da go?" [Trans: Where did it go?]

A beautiful pensive shot, complete with shadow.

I love this kid. . . 

Can't Keep Up!

Too many awesome things have been happening recently, so the updates you have read all week are usually at least a week old by the time you see them.  In an effort to catch up, here is another of my (in)famous lists.  I think I shall title this:

Cool Things That Have Happened This Week:


Saturday: Stacey and I hosted a baby shower for our dear friends Bethany and Shelby (whose mysteriously-named little boy is due in August).  The games were hysterical.

The cake was beautiful and delicious.

And the parents-to-be seemed to enjoy themselves.

All in all, a good day.

Sunday: I slept for an indecent number of hours, then spent hours playing with Miles, before wrapping up with dinner with Paul.  Not a bad day at all, I must say.  Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures worth sharing. :(

Monday: Took the Boy and met Bethany for brunch.  We had a marvelous conversation, and Miles was (for once) perfectly behaved the entire day.  It was glorious.  Even better, he fell asleep when we got home and napped for over three hours.  Then, we went outside to play, and he showed off his belly button:

Tuesday: Playdate at the Children's Farm with several friends and their kiddos.  A beautiful, relaxing trip which was sprinkled with lots of praise for my once again perfectly-behaved son.  I'll admit, I basked in it. 

Yes, that is my very active toddler, waiting quietly and patiently for his friends to arrive. *mommyglow*

Wednesday: After a week of playing around, Miles and I decided it was time to actually do some work.  Miles ran around playing nicely while I worked for almost an hour and a half straight, before he started getting cranky.  When asked what was wrong, he signed, "Food, please," so we ran to Arby's and grabbed some roast beef sandwiches (which he inhaled).  After lunch, he crawled up in my lap, gave me a huge snuggle-hug, and asked for his pacifier.  When I asked if it was naptime, he floored me by responding, "Yesh" and signing 'please'.  I rocked him for two minutes before he passed out.  I once again beamed with the delight of mommy pride. :)

And a bonus list, just for you loyal readers, who love them oh, so much, I'm sure. :)

Good Things I Discovered This Week:

• Something is working.  Whether it's medication, my renewed commitment to taking care of myself, a widening circle of wonderfully supportive friends, or maybe just the onset of an easier stage in Miles' development*, I have actually felt like a good mom a lot this week.  And that feeling has allowed me to remain calm and collected over things that usually throw me into a tailspin.  Hurray for a sense of normalcy.
• I have started to enjoy being around other people's children again.  Since I became pregnant with Miles, this has been a continuing struggle for me.  There are a few kiddos who have managed to endear themselves to me, but for the most part, I have had little interest in any kid except Miles.  This week, I found myself delighting in the antics of strangers' children for the first time in recent memory.
• I can be around babies without having a panic attack.  Even tiny ones.  And I think they're cute.  Which is good, since every freakin' woman I know is having a baby this year.
• Rather than freaking out at the thought of leaving Miles for even a few hours, I have started planning outings without him.  I have a date night with my charming hubby tomorrow, and a girls' night next weekend.  And I'm excited about it.
• And most of all, I've realized that, for the first time in a long time, I am content.  Thanks in no small part to all of you, who have supported me on this journey, and allowed me the room and given me the push I needed to get here.  I am so blessed to have each of you in my life.  Yes, even you, random internet stranger. ;)

*Please, oh please, let this be true!!!

Unexpected

Have you ever met a person you just . . . didn't particularly like.  For no good reason.  Someone who just bugged you from the start, even though they weren't any more annoying or obnoxious than anyone else you know.

I hate to admit this, but I have a few of these.

And once that is in my head, it's really hard for me to change my opinion of that person.  It's a fault, and I know it.  I'm working on it, but still, it happens.  Way more often than I'd like to admit.  But every once in awhile, it happens.  Someone I didn't like changes my mind.  But never so profoundly.

There is a performer I've worked with for three years now.  Let's call him "D".  When I met D, he was still a young teenager.  His hair was long and in his eyes, even though he was auditioning.  He was just a little too cocky for my taste.  But, he was a talented actor, and he got the part.

It's terrible, but I never took the opportunity to get to know D.  I didn't particularly want to, truth be told.  Yes, that makes me a bad person, but it's the truth.

And then, when I least expected it - and most needed it - D said something to entirely change my mind.

He told me I was a good mother.  That he wished he had a mother like me.

I cried.  And I hugged him.  Because at that moment, I totally didn't feel like a good mother.  I felt like a failure.  I was struggling.  I was at a place where I didn't know how to be a good mother to a child who has always been . . . a bit of a challenge.  I was feeling very fragile, and weak, and insecure.

And in a few short moments, all of that melted away.  Because of the words of a person I had never taken the effort to get to know.  If I am a failure, it is not because of my abilities of a mother.  It is because I refused to give a young man a chance.  A young man who has needed something that I may have been able to give him.  I can only hope that it's not too late for me to forge a relationship with him.

My Son, the Tornado

I have the extreme pleasure of working in one of the strangest, quirkiest, and most caring offices in the world.  It is like no other office I have ever seen.  People wander through, just to say 'hi'.*  We walk the faire site, me pushing a sleepy toddler in a stroller, Maestro dictating things to remember, and a performer taking notes.  We work in the midst of the crazy, and for the most part, I love it.

Part of that crazy is in the fact that we usually have at least one performer at the office, helping with various things.  One particular performer, a young man of about 19 or 20, has spent a lot of time with us in the past couple of weeks, and the one thing I've noticed is this:

Miles terrifies him.

Not that I blame him.  Miles is a force of nature.  As his mother, I know this, and I understand how overwhelming that can be.  Still, I was surprised when I saw this performer over the weekend, and he said, "Where's the tornado?"

He meant my son, who was at home with Patrick.  I have to say, it's a fitting nickname . . .

*Which occasionally turns into an hour-long 'meeting' with the person. :)

Bad Mommy Mondays

Yes, I think it's time to return to this again.  I will probably trade off between this and Lessons of Mommyhood, as each strikes my fancy. :)

This week, however, I am going to focus a bit on reasons I have felt like a Bad Mommy.  Yes, I realize that I'm not, but I feel like one sometimes.  I think every mommy does.  Sorry, but this probably won't be funny.

1. I love and adore my child all the time, more than I could ever say.  There are days, however, that I just can't handle him, and want to be away from him.  It's practical, but I don't like that I feel it.  Plus, leaving him is the leading cause of panic attacks.
2. I do not spend hours every day playing with my son.  As much as I love playing and interacting with him, he doesn't need my undivided attention all day, and I run out of things to do with him.
3. I cannot stand to listen to him scream.  It is one of the biggest triggers for my panic attacks.  So, I respond in one of two ways: I either give in to whatever he wants so it will stop, or I stick my fingers in my ears in an effort to block it out, while Patrick deals with it.  I am getting better in this arena, but it's still a struggle not to just give him whatever he wants.
4. I'm not particular about what I feed my kid.  As long as he eats it, and it doesn't make him sick, I usually let him have it.  I feel like I should be more concerned about his eating habits.
5. I am overwhelmed by Miles.  Even with almost 20 months of practice, and with the help of family, friends, and medication, I am utterly overwhelmed by my child most days.

It's Going to Be a Loooooong Summer

Miles slept in a little on Monday morning.  Until 8:30.  Which was glorious.  I got him up and dressed, and decided we should play outside after breakfast.

We walked out the door at 9:30.  It was already 87 degrees, and the humidity was so high you could chew the air.  Miles puttered around the patio for all of five minutes, before climbing the steps, knocking on the door, and saying, "In.  Hot."  Repeatedly.  Until I gave in.

He refused to step outside for the rest of the day.  Anytime I would try to take him out to play, he would cross his arms, and stubbornly insist, "Hot.  Uh-uh."

We're never going to survive summer.

Battles & Blessings

Battles:

• Temper tantrums.  Complete with jello-legged toddlers who has somehow become ten times heavier than normal.
• Lots of working.
• Still struggling to find a balance that works for us.
• Patrick has been working long hours, trying to finish a project.  He comes home for dinner and plays with Miles, then returns to the office for several more hours.  He is doing a stellar job of balancing it all.  I'm just looking forward to seeing him have a chance to relax a bit.  I worry about him. 

Blessings:

• Returning to my week with a renewed energy and with a fresh store of patience.
• A new camera that allows me to actually capture good shots of Miles.  And anything else that strikes my fancy. :)
• Nice, warm, sunny weather for most of the week.  Playing outside with Miles has been glorious.
• A notable increase in Miles' attempt to communicate his wants and needs.  He's learning a bit more patience, which means he's willing to spend more time when I'm not quite sure what he's saying.
• The support of friends and family who help make every day a bit easier.
• A night of shopping and dinner with Stacey.  Especially welcome at the end of a long day.
• The prospect of a rehearsal with my wonderful kiddos this morning, followed by a baby shower for Bethany.  It's going to be a good day. :)

Friday Photos!

Sorry this is so late.  Blogger was having some major issues today, so I'm just now able to post.  Luckily, I have plenty of pictures to make up for its lateness. :)

Oh, geez.  This could get long.

Peeking in to see if it's safe.

 

Trying to squirt water into the pot of water. . .

Love this face. :)

No more pictures, please.

Time Away

As I said on Saturday, I spent the weekend away.

By myself.

Well, more or less.  We had a performance on Saturday afternoon, which took me out of the house at 11:30 in the morning.  Afterward, I had dinner with a friend, then drove the nine million miles to the middle of nowhere to spend time with my Romani family.

For those who don't know, the Romani - or Great Travelers, as I am trying to learn to call them - are the support team for the Festival.  They dance.  They sing.  They woo.  But they also carry ice and water across the Faire site, making sure the rest of us don't get dehydrated.  They fill in when something goes wrong.  They clean. They haul.  They do all of the thankless jobs that need to be done.  And I am forever in awe of them.  I count myself lucky to be welcomed into the very tight family that they have created.

Every year, shortly after casting, all of the Great Travelers go out to a camp on the outskirts of town.  They call it Boot Camp, because it is a grueling four day event involving running, exercising, dancing, drumming, and all sorts of physical labor.  But it also serves as a wonderful time for them to bond and share time as a family.  Each year, I am invited to join them for at least part of the weekend.  This year, I couldn't say no.

No, really, I couldn't.  They needed help, so I went.

Though I worked some, and danced, and otherwise was kept busy the entire weekend, it was the most relaxing time I've had in a very long time.  For once, I did not have someone clinging to me every second, yelling "Mom-mom-mom" when I put him down.  I didn't have to keep my eyes and ears peeled for the slightest hint of his newest mischief.

Instead, I was surrounded by people who were quick to offer me love, support, and help, in whatever way I needed.  I spent the weekend being pampered by my family, and being allowed to just be quiet.  I wandered paths through the trees.  I sang songs and teared up at a story told around the most magnificent campfire.  I attended an outdoor church service that was more fulfilling than any I've been to in a long time.  And while I carried out my duties, I was allowed to just be quiet and contemplate, something I lack in my real life most days.

So yes, after my tirade last year about spending Mother's Day with my child, I spent this year alone in the woods with thirty-some people who are not blood-related.  But, they are my family.  And I needed them more than I knew.

Best.Husband.Ever

Why?

Because he bought me this for Mother's Day:

Within the first two hours after opening it, I took 109 pictures.  Miles was being rather uncooperative, or I'm sure it would have been much more.  So, expect a ton more pictures coming your way. :)

Like these:

"Don't Eat That!" is my new mantra

Stuff my son has eaten recently: 

• Play-doh
• Dog food
• Cat food
• Paper
• Half of a playing card
• Stickers (undetermined number)
• Kleenex (unused)
• Napkins (at a restaurant)
• The corner of a board book
• A little yellow flower from the yard

Stuff my son has stuck in his mouth recently:

• Every damn rock we see
• My deodorant
• Golf balls (plastic)
• Dog toys
• Books
• My pants (while I'm wearing them)
• My shirt sleeve (while I'm wearing it)
• My hair
• The dog's ear
• Various and sundry stuffed animal bits
• Socks
• Coins of every denomination.  I'm pretty sure he even tried to eat a Mexican peso the other day.

Stuff my son has licked* recently:

• Every floor he sees regularly
• Most flat surfaces in our home
• Several flat surfaces in other peoples' homes
• Random restaurant tables
• Windows
• Doors
• Multiple televisions (not all ours)
• Random furniture
• People's legs
• My feet
• My cell phone
• My laptop
• The couch
• Lots of rocks
• The sidewalk
• The playground equipment
• My pillow
• The baby gate
• The soap dispenser in the bathroom
• The outside of the peanut butter jar

Stuff my child has refused to eat/stick in his mouth recently:

• Crackers
• Cereal
• Chicken
• Rice
• Sweet potatoes
• Milk
• Green beans
• Bread (though, he did lick the peanut butter off of it. . .)
• Beans
• Macaroni
• Pancakes
• Apples
• Various other actual foods that would provide him sustenance. 

<Sigh>


*Seriously?  Who goes around licking things?  Weirdo. :)

Lessons of Mommyhood

1. Nothing in the world is cuter than watching the man you love cuddling with your child.  Nothing.
2. Mommy needs to hold everything.  For an indeterminate amount of time.
3. Modern toys are ridiculously needy.  Ignore them for thirty seconds and they start making annoying noises to get your attention.  Sometimes, this continues for ten minutes at a time.  Sledgehammers are the only cure.
4. Rocks are priceless treasure that must be protected at all cost.  Until it's time to throw them back into the rock garden.
5. Being physically incapable of completing a task does not mean that the toddler won't scream when you try to help him.
6. Some things just aren't worth the fight.  Sitting in the windowsill is one of the least dangerous things the kid attempts, so try not to freak out over it.  Besides, freak outs only encourage him to keep doing it.
7. Any stick-shaped item will become a sword, which will be used to slay the furniture, the floor, and the television.  Removing these dangerous weapons results in a meltdown, but failure to do so results in living room apocalypse.  Number 234.
8. Cups are a convenient place to store crackers.  Even cups that are half full of water.
9. Saltine crackers eventually dissolve into a strange, mushy paste, when left in water for more than a few minutes.
10. If it's hidden, the toddler will forget it exists.  Unless, of course, it's something he's not supposed to have.  Then, his memory is perfect.

The World Lost a Hero Today

My Great-Uncle Wayne passed away early this morning.  His entire life was defined by a draft notice for the Vietnam War, when he was little more than a kid himself.  The horrors he saw there haunted him every day, yet he was a happy, friendly guy to all he met.  I will forever picture him with his long grey hair and beard, walking across my grandmother's farm, where he lived, laughing and looking every bit the cowboy.

I love you, Wayne.  Enjoy Heaven.  I'm sure it will never be the same again, with you there.

Aaaand. . . I'm out

I'm am performing this afternoon, and then staying in a cabin with some friends/fellow performers for the remainder of the weekend.  Which means no internet.

Enjoy the weekend!

Friday Photos!

As promised, here are the preview shots of Miles looking oh-so-cute in his little suit.  Enjoy!

Have an awesome weekend!

Tired

I am exhausted.  So, the post for today will suck.

This is because yesterday, I:

• took Miles to the children's farm with friends
• cleaned the living room
• vacuumed
• did a pile of laundry
• chased Miles around the living room trying to keep him from destroying everything I had just cleaned
• cleaned the kitchen
• took Miles off the dining room table where he had climbed and gotten stuck [repeat x 10]
• made stuffed peppers for dinner
• had friends over to share the peppers
• walked to Dairy Queen
• had a lovely conversation on the patio while we ate our ice cream
• chased Miles around the patio to keep him from darting out into traffic
• walked home
• chatted for a few moments with the roomie
• stared blankly at the computer for awhile, trying to think of something witty to write
• gave up and went to bed.

The end.  Have a good day.  May it be a tad less busy than yesterday.

Should I Have Used the Emergency Number, Maybe?

Hello?  Police?  I need to report a crime.  My toddler was attacked.  He has a bruise on his back, and a rash under his chin.  Plus, he's been ridiculously irritable.  And I think it got me, too.  I'm sore all over, and my head is pounding.  Yeah, I'm pretty sure it got me good.

I'm sorry?  Did I see who was responsible?  Of course.  It was long, and lean, angry, and vengeful.  It's uglier than sin, and  I'm pretty sure it's responsible for a ton of crimes.  If you can just catch it and incarcerate it, I'm sure the world would be a safer place.  A monster like that shouldn't be allowed to roam the streets.

What's that?  Was it male or female?!?  How should I know?  It's Tuesday.  Since when do days of the week have a gender?!?

. . . . hello?. . .officer?

Damn.  Not again.

Unstoppable

On Sunday, I wrote of the many qualities that Miles possesses that make me proud to call him mine.  I spoke mostly of bravery, before, but equally impressive to me is his willingness to 'get back on the horse', as it were.

Being that Miles is an incredibly active little boy, he has had more than his share of bumps and bruises.  His share of falls, wipe-outs, trips, and stumbles.  Each time, my heart leaps into my throat, certain that this time, he is really going to hurt himself.  And that he will become scared of [playgrounds/hills/animals/furniture/whatever-he-has-fallen-off-this-time] and refuse to interact with it again.

If only I were so lucky.

I'm joking, of course.  More or less.  While his insatiable need to go right back to what he was doing is a positive quality in a lot of ways, the part of me that wants to protect him from the world fears for him.  Instead, I sit on my hands and allow him to try again, because I don't want him to lose that determination to keep at it until he gets it right.  Someday, this quality will help him score a goal in a sport that was difficult for him, or master a difficult mathematical concept, or ask a girl on a date.  It will help him become a successful person, never accepting defeat.  And that's a quality I want him to have.

For now, though, it's difficult to watch.  On Saturday, as he played on the playground at a local park, he lost his balance and face-planted onto hard plastic.  Patrick immediately scooped him up, and together we tried to examine the damage, fearing that he had bitten his tongue, or worse, had loosened a tooth.  In his moment of pain, however, Miles twisted away from us, clamping his mouth closed.  I wiped the blood off, trying to get a better look at him, but he tore off, and climbed onto the same play structure that he had been injured on.  It wasn't until much later, when we were finally able to get him strapped into his carseat to go home, that we were able to see that the scary amount of blood had all come from a split lip.  Sore, definitely, but not nearly as bad as we had feared.

I remember being a child.  I remember how afraid I was of pain.  How afraid I still am.  When I fell off of a playground structure, it terrified me to go anywhere near it for months afterward.  And yet, and 19-months-old, Miles has nothing of that quality in him.  And I am so happy for this one thing he did not inherit.

Lessons of Mommyhood

Ah, another week, another set of lessons. . .

1. A plastic golf club is quite useful for hitting small plastic golf balls.  Unfortunately, it's also quite useful for beating on cars, toys, furniture, the television, etc, etc, ad nauseum.
2. No matter how you dress a toddler, they'll still act like a toddler.  A three-piece suit does not a refined gentleman make.
3. Toddlers have no fear.  This is a good thing.  And a very, very bad thing.
4. Busy days are sometimes better days.  They leave fewer opportunities for boredom-induced tantrums.
5. Never let a toddler play with a cell phone, even for a few moments.  It will become an obsession that will result in the mauling of anything between him and his beloved phone.
6. To an adult, beds are for sleeping.  To a toddler, they're an at-home bounce house.  Without the safety features.
7. It's really not fair to bring an overtired toddler anywhere near soon-to-be first-time parents.  You may scar them for life. . . (Sorry, B and Shelby)
8. It is possible to pick up and hold a squirming, resistant toddler, but he may end up in some very strange positions.  Try not to be self-conscious about the strangers watching you carry an upside-down screaming toddler back through the store.
9. There is nothing wrong with counting the minutes until Daddy gets home.
10. No matter what, do not run out of your toddler's favorite food.  He does not understand the concept of being out of applesauce, and will be very upset when you cannot produce it from thin air.

Brave

One of the best parts of motherhood, so far, has been the discovery of qualities in my child that I, as an adult, still struggle to attain.  I am so incredibly proud of Miles' innate sense of what people need, of his charisma, his dancing ability,* his absolute love for all creatures.

But, most of all, I am proud of his courage.  He is so little, and the world is so big.  And yet, he faces every new situation with enthusiasm.  That doesn't mean he isn't afraid.  He is, rather often.  In almost all new situations, he will keep a hand on me, for reassurance, until he has decided that it is safe.  But that fear never stops him from exploring.

I realized this once more last Thursday, when we visited the Children's Farm again.  On the playground, he kept returning to the swing, even though each little push terrified him.  He would ask to get down, then return to it a few minutes later, determined to try again.  In the goat pen, he once more played with the goats freely, while much older, bigger kids backed away in fear of a bite or some other imagined danger.  On the sidewalks, he ran with wild abandon from one exhibit to the next, while most children walked a half step behind parents for protection.  He explored open green spaces.  He peered inside buildings.  He petted a cow that was literally taller than me.**

I am so proud of my brave little explorer. :)

*Hell, the fact that he has way more skill in all physical activities than I'll ever have.  It's kinda sad to realize that a 19-month-old is better at catching a ball than his mother. . .

**And giggled when it made a cow pie, but that's a fairly normal reaction, I'm told, for a boy. :)