Animal Sounds

Me: What's that?

Miles: Chicken!

Me: What does a chicken say?

Miles: Yummy!

A step back in time

Last Friday, we journeyed to an old-fashioned downtown about 30 minutes north of us.  We drove off the busy highway, and found ourselves on quiet back roads almost immediately.  Less than five minutes from the hustle and bustle, a college appeared on our right, and further ahead, a tiny downtown.  I felt transported back about fifty years, to small-town America.  As we pulled into town, live jazz drifted in through the open windows and sunroof.  We parked the car and waited for Miles to wake from his impromptu car nap, and for twenty minutes, Patrick and I just chatted and laughed.

When Miles finally woke, we pulled out the wagon and meandered up the hill, over the train tracks, and glanced in shop windows.  The buildings were old, red-brick, and comfortingly squat.  After only a block, downtown faded into a quiet neighborhood with big, old homes and manicured lawns.  On the deck of one, two couples sat sipping wine in the fading light.

Within moments of arriving, I was in love.

We ate authentic Mexican food in an old boxcar-turned-restaurant, and conversed with the owner about Latin American literature.

Miles found a playground where small children played with their parents, and happy couples walked by with arms entwined, and dogs barked excitedly at the prospect of a thrown ball.

We watched our son stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the trains that rumbled through every twenty minutes or so, and we grinned proudly when he waved and said, "Bye-bye, Train!  See you nec time!"

As the sun sank, and the moon rose, we found our way back to the shops for the main event of the evening - the paper lantern launch.  I have wanted to be part of a lantern launch since I first teared up over the scene in Tangled.  It just looked so . . . magical.  Even though I completely understand the science that makes it work.  

We bought our lanterns, and were ready to launch them, when the man who was assisting with the launch asked if we wanted to write anything on it.  In that moment, the wind picked up, and I knew what I had to write.  

I grabbed the orange lantern and wrote, "Love you, Grandma.  Thanks for the wind."  Patrick took the other and wrote, "Grandmas and Grandpas - We miss you. Love, Miles"  When they disappeared into the night sky, I got a little choked up.  And when the wind began to blow moments later, the tears finally spilled over. I hugged Miles to my chest, and wrapped my arm around Patrick, and stared off into the night, thanking God for moments like these.

Firsts

First Video Game

Yes.  That is my son, holding a PS3 controller.  Uncle Paul taught him how to play Portal on Sunday.  My little geek heart is a-melting. :)

First Superhero Costume.

He picked this up when we were at Target the other day and wanted to wear it.  It's Captain America, which I know will make his Papa happy.  He loved it because it was an "A Hat!"

First Horseback Ride

At Deanna Rose a couple of weeks ago, we may have fibbed a little and said he was 3.  Whatever.  He got to ride the horsie.  And he held onto the saddle horn - like he was told - the entire time.  He definitely proved that he's ready for it, regardless of age.

First Independent Photograph.

A few weeks ago, I was playing with my camera.  Miles asked to play with it.  I showed him the ropes.  A few moments later, he took this awesome shot.*

The last few months have been awesome.  :)

*Well, awesome if you ignore the fact that I hadn't brushed my hair, yet. . . :)

In Memory. . .

Some gave all.

Different

The other day, out of the blue, Miles looked at me and said, "Mom-ee.  I diff'rent."

I'm really not certain why he said it, or exactly what he meant, but he's not wrong.

While kids his age are fascinated with Barney, Miles can quote every line in "A Knight's Tale".

While other boys are playing superheroes, Miles plays with knights on horseback.

Other kids ask to go to the park.  Miles asks to "Go castle?  See gypsies, pease?"

Other kids beg for candy at the store.  Miles begs for strawberries at the farmer's market.

Miles begs to have his teeth brushed.  He sings, "We Are the Champions" instead of "Twinkle, Twinkle."

Other kids tantrum to get their way.  Miles tantrums, too.  Boy, does he ever tantrum.  But then, eventually, he asks, "Momee, may I pease. . .?"

Yes, Miles, you are Different.  And that is awesome.

Mmm, Summertime

There's a simple routine to our world, now.  A routine involving action figures, and soccer balls.  Days at the park or Wonderscope.  Lunch with Maestro.  Playdates with J.  Dinner with friends.  Evenings playing with Daddy.  Taking walks in the fading sun, squeals and splashes in the bath, and quiet moments at bedtime.

It is imperfect, and sometimes it's hard, but it is ours, and for that I love it.

Emotions!

I hate seeing zeroes here.  It makes me feel all. . .boring, and stuff.  Like I'm not even interesting enough to click "Like". :(

Yes, I am 12 and obviously overly sensitive.  Welcome to the world of withdrawal from Zoloft: Where Stupid Stuff bothers you!

Also, yes, I am a total nerd with a zillion tabs open.  And one of them is about catalytic converters.  Cuz I'm awesome.  Or not.  I don't know.  No one tells me. ;)

Best Buds

Bear has become a constant in our world.  Whether we're at the park. . . 

 Or the last day of school. . .

 Or really anywhere, Bear is there.

Last night, he was even at the dinner table.  In fact, he stole Patrick's chair and had his own plate of food and a spoon.  And, just like Miles, he prayed with us, and asked to be excused before he left the table.

I love this chapter of Mommyhood. :)

I rocked Today

3 loads of laundry.

2 loads of dishes.

2+ hours of shopping for prizes for Special Olympics.

All while being light-headed and having some weird withdrawal symptoms.  Like the one where my brain takes a second to catch up with my eyes, like a computer with a slow connection to its keyboard.

And then I watched the last three episodes (including the series finale) of Desperate Housewives and cried like a baby.

So you're subjected to a series of one-liners until my brain gets back up to speed.  Hope they don't drive you too crazy.

Hey, look.  Cute picture of my kid. :)

Words of Wisdom from the Two-Year-Old

Miles is really talking up a storm lately.  Here are some recent gems:

• "Hey! Careful wit dat!"
• "Don't touch! Is hot!" (in reference to a toy truck he was playing with)
• "What are you talkin' bout?"
• (After being told that Daddy went to work on an airplane) "Daddy work plane?  Den Daddy work train tracks?!?"
• [Throws hands in air] "Ta-daaaa!"
• "Mom-meee take-a shower?  Mom-mee no more stinky?" [Thanks, kid. . .]
• "Baby J jump in sky and a rainbow!" [. . .I have no idea. . .]
• "Mom-meee pee in pot, get candy.  Miles no pee in pot. Get candy!"
• "Choc-wat! An' pon-e-gwan-et!" [Chocolate & Pomegranate]
• "Babies and Babies (his dolls) play!  Babies and Babies hugs and kisses!  Babies and Babies nigh-night. Babies and Babies FIGHT!!!"
• [Upon being told that he was going to school on Wednesday]: "Uh-uh, Mommy.  No schoo.  Monkey Bizness?  Go see animals?  Lunch wif Granpa?"
• "I count dem.  Wun. Tooo. Twee. Fo-our. Five. Six. Seben. Ayyy. Nine. Ten. Weben. Twel. Firteen. Fourtee. Fourtee.  Fourtee.  Fourtee.  Fourtee!"
• "Mom-mee, no more sing.  All done."
• "Uh-uh Mommeee.  No dance."
• "Mommee seep in bed?  Nigh-night.  Bye!"  [Closes door and runs away to do something he's not supposed to]
• "Babee fight wit sword and shield and ride deh horses!"
• "Grampa stressed."
• "Lub ooo, Mom-mee!" [Best! Thing! Ever!]

Risk

No, not the terribly boring bored game.

Have you ever gotten caught up in something, only to realize (possibly too late), that this could be a game-changer?

I am attempting to open lines of communications with veteran performers who dislike the direction our Festival has taken.  Mostly, because I think they make some valid points.  Partially because I think their experiences are important to know about, so I can (maybe) learn from them.

However, many of these people (and their ideas) are not terribly popular with our corporate offices.  I'm not all that worried since I make no bones about how I feel about our corporate offices.  Also, I'm a part time employee who doesn't particularly need the money.  So, if corporate fires me, Maestro replaces me with someone else who could easily learn my job, while I shrug and move on.

Except that I care about this faire.  Deeply.  I don't want to be cast out of it, even in the smallest way.

And on the flip side, I could be opening a can of worms that gets these veteran performers riled up with no real ability to make changes happen.  I could easily end up being hated by both sides.

I still think it's worth it to listen to these concerns and talk to these people.

Am I crazy?  Time will tell. . .

Battles & Blessings

I am in great need of doing this today.  It has been a long, difficult week, and I need to remember all I am grateful for.

Battles:

• My amazing Mother's Day weekend was mildly marred by the fact that our cat, Nikko, vomited all over all weekend.  She literally was not keeping anything down.  So, Monday morning found us in the vet's office for x-rays, and eventually surgery to remove some tulle she had eaten off of a project I had been remiss about putting away.  I was a wreck for much of the day picturing every little thing that could go wrong.
• I'm weaning off my Zoloft.  No lightheadedness or dizziness or the like (knock-on-wood), but I have been highly irritable and cranky, and I alternately ignore the world and gripe them out.  For comparison's sake, I feel about as in-control of my emotions as I did when I was 8 months pregnant.  And for those that don't know me, anything that flies through my head continues right out the mouth.  Usually without censorship.  Bad combination.
• Cranky Mommy = Cranky Miles.  'Nuff said. 
• Patrick had to fly out of town again for work on Wednesday, and returned late late last night.  
• Trying to get Ruby titled and tagged properly.  Between cat surgeries, cranky mommy, cranky toddler, and out-of-town hubby, it's been a challenge.

Blessings:

• Nikko is fine.  In fact, by Tuesday morning, I was already yelling at her to stop clawing the carpet.  Which is to say that she was more-or-less back to normal.
• Miles has been particularly careful with Nikko.  It's awesome to see how considerate a two-year-old tornado really can be.
• The worst of the withdrawal symptoms seem to still be at bay.
• I have been reminded how awesome my friends are for putting up with my mouth, and how they're unafraid to tell me when I've become mean-spirited.  That level of trust is comforting.
• My husband actually appreciates the snark that comes out of my mouth occasionally.  So long as it doesn't cross the line into bitchiness.
• Miles has been awesome.  Just. . . yeah.  He's awesome.
• Also, Miles had daycare twice this week instead of once.  It's the end of the school year, so it was a special thing.  But I don't know how I would have managed without it.
• Overall, Patrick was only out of town for about 50ish hours.  It could have been much worse.
• I have family, friends, and coworkers who support me unconditionally.  I was reminded this week of how blessed I really am in this area.
• For all of his wildness and obstinate two-year-old-ness, Miles is the best thing that I've ever done.  He is kind-hearted, considerate, polite, and truly loving toward everyone he meets.  I cannot believe I have been entrusted with this amazing little person.

Our morning. . . so far

Miles woke at 6:30 - a full hour earlier than usual.  After fighting sleep until after 10:00 last night, and waking at 12:30 from a coughing fit.

By 7:00, he was begging me for juice, which he then chugged.  Then puked all down my back.*

By 7:30, I had finally gotten him calmed back down enough that I could clean up the puke.

At 8:00, I got to pee.

At 8:30, I got to sneak a cup of coffee while Miles was busy munching a popsicle.

It's now 9:00 and he is running around stark naked because he refuses to wear a diaper.

This could be a looooooong day. . . .

*Don't worry, it's not an illness.  He has done this since he was a newborn.  He drinks too fast, and it all comes right back up.

Mommy's Little Photographer

Love.

Last day of the First Year of School

Well, daycare.  But he calls it school.  So close enough.  Besides, they learn stuff there.  I think.  :)

Anyhow, yesterday was his last day for the school year.  When he starts back in the fall, it will be with a new group of kids and new teachers and a new classroom.

My little boy is growing up so fast.

His first summer vacation has begun. . .

Ruby

Meet Ruby.

Our new-to-us 2004 Kia Sorrento.  Cloth interior.  Large-ish cargo area.  Drives like a dream.  Moon roof.

Yeah, I'm loving her. :)

Quitting

I am tapering off of my Zoloft.  I started a week ago, under doctor's supervision.

So far, I'm feeling okay.  I'll let you know how it goes over the next few weeks.  According to rumor, this could get ugly.  Headaches.  Dizziness.  Light-headedness.  Not to mention the obvious mood swings that come from discontinuing a mood-stabilizing drug.

I just need to do this.  Don't ask why.  I just do.  It feels right.

Let's Compare. . .

Yesterday (Mother's Day):

Woke up late to a completely silent house.  My boys didn't return until noon.  I celebrated by staying in my jammies watching Netflix and crocheting.  When they returned, Miles was bearing a bouquet of beautiful, multi-colored roses that he had picked out himself for "Mom-meee".  Patrick carried the supplies to make me stir-fry from scratch - my fave.  I loafed all day, playing with my son off and on.  At one point, Miles asked if we could watch Star Trek, and then Myth Busters.  We ended the day with ice cream.

Today (Monday):

Woke up early to a toddler crawling all over me and coughing in my face.  Got up, got us both dressed, made coffee, packed a lunch and his other supplies, wrestled him into his shoes and dropped him at daycare.  Returned home long enough to pick up our cat (who had been vomiting all weekend, for no apparent reason) and took her to the vet.  Spent an hour with the vet only to find out that she needed surgery to remove a blockage from her intestine.  Apparently, Nikko likes to eat tulle.  Left her at the vet, and returned home to wait for instruction on dealing with our new car, which we had dropped at the mechanic for inspection.  Nearly had a panic attack trying to figure out how to deal with everything I needed to do.  Texted Aunt Ninell and asked if she could pick up Miles from daycare.  Made homemade salsa to calm my nerves.  Aunt Ninell showed up to pick up the carseat and whisked me away to lunch (because I probably would have forgotten to eat otherwise).  She dropped me at home, and I went to deposit a check to (somewhat, hopefully) help cover the cost of cat-surgery.  Got home and got out of the car, got word that our new car was ready for pick-up, got back in the car, picked up Patrick, picked up new car.  Drove home.  Tidied the living room before collapsing in my chair to deal with e-life for a few minutes, with mindless television playing in the background.  Went to pick up the cat, who had (thankfully) made it through surgery just fine.  Brought her home and got her settled, texted Aunt Ninell that we were ready for Miles.  Stacey and Patrick got home from work.  Miles got home.  Talked with Aunt Ninell briefly about various logistics.  Eventually got around to having a dinner of leftovers.  Fretted over the fact that Miles barely ate.  Collapsed in the chair while the boys went to the park.  Put Miles to bed.  Crawled into my own bed, and wrote a blog entry.  The end.

I like yesterday better. . .

Mother's Day

Tomorrow marks my third Mother's Day as a mother.  And to be quite honest, I'm not sure how I feel about it.  Last year, I was finally coming to terms with my PPA/PPD.  I spent my Mother's Day with people who are not technically related, but are, nonetheless, family.

The year before, I went on a strange tirade about spending Mother's Day with my kid.  I can only chalk it up to inexperience, and frankly, I'm ashamed enough of it that I almost didn't link it.  Almost.

And frankly, I'm certain that I would have had some sort of something to say this year.  After all, I am finally at a point where I feel like my PPA/PPD is more or less under control.  But I also understand the need to get away from your child from time to time.  Even if you're a great mom.  And really, I'm starting to feel like I'm figuring out this whole mom gig.  Yeah, I could have done an entire post about where I am as a mom.

Instead, I'm going to ask you to spend a few moments today praying for a person that neither of us have ever met.  The writer of one of my favorite blogs is having what I can only imagine is the worst Mother's Day ever.  This morning, her 15-month-old passed away, after struggling since birth to learn to breathe on her own.  I have been reading this blog since I first found out I was pregnant, and I have laughed and cried with this mom through all of it.  Today, though, my heart is breaking for her.

So, in honor of this Mother's Day, say a little prayer for my friend, and for all mothers who have lost children.

I have chosen to respect the privacy of the mother I am speaking of, and not list her blog until she has had time to share her feelings in her own way.  If you know who I am speaking of, please be mindful of her privacy at this incredibly difficult time.  Thank you.

Friday Photos

Playground of DOOM!

The shadows are trying to tell us something.  Something creepy.

Seriously.  It looks like an evil alien skull.

I don't think I'm letting Miles sit in that swing anymore.

Stuff

Miles is two years and seven months old.  If you were to look at his room, though, it looks like he has been collecting toys for more than twenty years.  Blocks.  Trains.  Stuffed animals.  Action figures.  Random toys with no apparent function.

At least, that's what it was like before yesterday.

Yesterday, while Miles was at daycare, I boxed up 95% of his toys and put them in his closet and under his bed.  Now, he has only a few toys out, with the rest within easy reach for rainy day emergencies.  And so far, I LOVE it.

My favorite thing is the new reading corner.

That's a tree trunk.  It will be more obvious when I have time to add the
branches and leaves.

Ah, quiet reading corner.

A little tent for the stuffed animals, made from the base of the tree trunk.

Stuffed animal storage inside
the tree trunk.

Insomnia

It seems to be rampant in this house.

Miles cannot fall asleep unless Mommy or Daddy lays next to his bed until he's out.

I have been exhausted, but then go to bed only to stare at the ceiling for hours.

Patrick has been working his tail off at all sorts of weird hours, trying to finish up some projects.

And I think Stacey still lives with us.  Her stuff is still in her room, and I occasionally catch a glimpse of her car in the driveway in the middle of the night, while I'm up wandering aimlessly about, looking for my lost ability to sleep.

Anyhow, fair warning.  If I start blogging about flying green unicorns (Pegacorns? Unisus? Unisi?), please forgive me.  I'm obviously hallucinating from lack of sleep.

Technology Tuesday

That's what I've decided today is.

I had planned to go to the gym today.  Miles was dressed, I was in my sweats, my tennis shoes were laced up. I was just doing a load of laundry and dishes before we left.

And out of the clear blue sky, a crash of thunder rumbled through the house and brought Miles screaming into the kitchen for a hug.  We talked about rain, and thunder.  We ate popsicles on the kitchen floor.  We opened the front door and watched the rain.

And then, we broke out the electronic devices and started playing.  Miles is watching videos of himself on my phone while I blog, and prepare for rehearsals, and generally, just re-connect with e-life.  And when we're done with this, we might we just find some Veggie Tales or Super Why on Netflix.  Or go for a car ride.  Who knows.  On a quiet, rainy day like today, all bets are off.

One thing is certain, though: it's bound to be a quiet day.