Today

Today, I woke up with the sun.

I got dressed in a silence that has become so unusual as to seem almost eerie.  Patrick was sleeping. Not so much as a peep from Miles' room.  Even the dog merely yawned and rolled over as I snuck out of the room.

Today, I rode with Stacey out to the Festival site, laughing, giggling, and telling stories with my best friend as the sun rose in the grey sky.

Today, as most people were getting out of bed to begin their day, I was huddled in a little blue shack with my pile of paperwork, nursing another cup of coffee.

Today, as you read this, I am walking the Festival site, radio on, dealing with problems as they arise, helping people get the things they need to be good performers.  I will be watching shows, interacting with characters, basking in the sunshine, and reveling in the Festival that I have helped, in some small way, to create.

Today is a good day.

Amazing

Do you ever have a moment where you are utterly in awe of the people around you?

I had a moment like that recently.

In my job with the Festival, I work with over 200 performers a year.  Needless to say, there's no way I can form close, personal relationships with every single one of them.  Nevertheless, they all tend to be very sweet, wonderful people.*

Anyway, there is another stay-at-home mom who performs for us.  She and I have always performed in different groups, and have never really gotten to know one another, beyond the basics.

The other day, we were making arrangements for her to bring me some things I needed for work.  In the course of the conversation, she offered to watch Miles for me once in awhile during the day, so I could run errands, or just have a break.

I am so blessed to work with such amazing, giving people.  I cannot believe the incredible selflessness of her offer.  I hope that this season sees the beginnings of a new friendship with this wonderful lady. :)

*For the most part.  As in any job, I occasionally meet people I'd like to drop-kick . . . :)

Little Friends

I'm really beginning to enjoy our playdates.  Miles and Elliot get a chance to play.  I get to talk with Eliot's Mommy.  It's a nice, relaxing time for all of us.  And, occasionally, milestones are reached.

Yesterday, we saw the sparks of a friendship beginning.  For the first time, Miles and Elliot began to play together.  Not side by side, but in an interactive way.  They played peek-a-boo in Elliot's playhouse.  They played trains together.  They chased each other back and forth across the playroom.  In a very simple, and yet very profound way, they played.  Together.

And, I must say that I am proud of my son - and of his new friend.  We were at Elliot's house, which meant that the boys were both playing with - and this is very important - Elliot's toys.  Given that he's a two-year-old, Elliot would sometimes become jealous, and come to take one of his toys away from Miles.  Not in a mean-spirited or even hasty way, but in a rather gentle (but firm) way that expressed his ownership, and his discomfort.  For his part, Miles never once tried to pull a toy back, never complained, or whined.  Instead, he simply looked at Elliot, understanding, in his toddler way, that it was best not to argue this, and handed over the toy.  A few minutes later, he would pick up a different toy and begin playing with it.  And once or twice, I would swear I caught him glancing at Elliot, as if to ensure that this one was okay.  After two or three of these encounters, they seemed to reach some silent toddler agreement, and played peacefully for the remainder of the afternoon.

And I realized, in that moment, that these two boys had managed to solve one of life's most persistent problems - jealousy.  And they did it all on their own.

Blowing Fire

So, I may have mentioned that my child occasionally watches that evil device known as a television, right?  Well, his favorite show is a beautiful little cartoon called, "Jane and the Dragon".  It's about a young girl, destined to be a lady-in-waiting, who has managed to earn the right to train for knighthood.  Her best friend is a full-sized, fire-breathing, snarky dragon.  This show is pure genius, in so many ways.  But, that's not the point.

The point is that this adorable show has been the catalyst for Miles' very first bout of pretend play.  He adores the show, and often gets very excited and jumps up when Dragon comes on the screen.  The other day, Dragon got really frustrated with a situation, and threw his head back, exhaling a stream of flame into the air.  Miles immediately threw his head back, exhaling sharply out of his lower lip.

I gasped.  I must have, because he turned to look at me.  "Miles?" I asked, "are you blowing fire like Dragon?"  He grinned, and did it again.  Since then, whenever he is frustrated with the world, he throws his head back and 'breathes fire'.

Then, on Tuesday, as Dragon flew off into the sky at the end of the episode, Miles threw his arms out to the sides, flapping them up and down like wings, and ran around the room, blowing fire.  He was pretending to be Dragon.

And they tried to make me feel guilty for letting him watch TV. :)

Play Date!

Ever been on a blind date?  Think of the anxiety.  And the nervous excitement.  The fear that everything will be awful.  Or that it will be great, but the other person will hate you.  That you'll have zero in common.  Or that you'll have weird things in common.  That you'll have nothing to talk about.  But you go anyway, hoping that it will all be okay.

I had actually managed to get married without having ever been on a blind date.  High school sweethearts and all that.  I had watched my friends go on them (and inevitably complain about them).  I had even set up a few for friends that didn't know each other.  But I had never actually experienced it.  I thought I had escaped scot-free.

And then, I became a mommy.

I have two friends with children.  One lives an hour away and our lives never seem to coincide correctly to get together regularly.  The other lives forty minutes away in the opposite direction and is a working mom.  Because of this fact, Miles has had almost zero interaction with other children in his age range.  In a moment of delusion that I was actually a Good Mommy, I decided that Miles needed to start socializing with other toddlers.  But that meant meeting other mommies.  Mommies I didn't already know.

Cue panic attack.

Seriously, if this is what the idea of a blind date was like, I could not fathom why anyone would ever go on one.  My chest tightened up.  I began to hyperventilate.  My palms were sweaty, and my face itched.*

And then I realized that I had no idea of how to go about meeting other moms.  My breathing slowed.  My heart rate returned to normal.  The itching stopped.  I wouldn't have to meet other mommies.  I had no way of knowing how to find them!

Enter the internet.

Like those weird people who meet their spouses online,** I met my first new mommy friend online.  You know that awesome board I talked about the other day?  There was this lady there who I had been talking to for ages.  Her son was a few months older than Miles, and did some of the same zany things.  After months of talking to her online, we realized that we live in the same area.  Like, less than 10 minutes away.  Inevitably, someone suggested we get together.  And I got all excited and agreed.

And then had a panic attack.  Tight chest.  Hyperventilating.  Itching.

What if our kids hated each other?  What if Miles pulled Elliot's hair?  Or pushed him over?  What if two minutes around another toddler brought out the worst in Miles?  What if the mom was weird?  Or was one of those judgy moms that scare me so much?  Worst of all, what if the kids got along great, but the mom and I had nothing in common?  Would I have to continue playdates for the sake of my kid, dreading them each time?  My head was not a fun place to be.

But, I steeled myself, and met Elliot and his mommy at the mall's indoor play area.

And she was awesome.  We talked for an hour and a half, without any of those awkward pauses.  We talked about the difficulty of being a stay at home mom, and the challenges of raising an active boy.  We talked about our husbands, and our lives pre-kiddos.  And when the boys were getting restless and were ready to go, I found that I wished we had more time.

So, we got together again yesterday, at the library's literacy center.  The boys climbed on the train table and tried to escape and turn off the lights and throw crayons.  And in between chasing them, and correcting them, and pulling them down from yet another table, we got to talk.  And once more, the boys were ready to leave before we were.  So, we said our good-byes, and made tentative plans for another playdate next week.

And I'm glad I went on that blind playdate.  Even if the panic it caused nearly killed me. :)

*Yeah, when I get nervous, I itch.  Weird?  Probably, but what else is new.

** Hi, Mom!

Moving Day!

Today, we transfer all of our furniture (or as much as possible) into our new home! Tonight, we will be sleeping there for the first time!

If all goes well, I will spend this evening unpacking boxes and arranging things while Patrick is performing.

Look for updates and pictures of the new place in the next couple of days!

Mmm . . . Autumn

I love Fall. The season, not the thing I do because I am far too klutzy for a grown woman.

As much as I love the heat of summer, and I am dreading the cold of winter, there is just so much about autumn to adore. Like Chai tea on a cool evening.


And little arms reaching through the sleeves of a light jacket when it's time to go to work. And tiny feet stomping dry leaves.


And the relief of being done with Festival for the year. The only thing that remains is to wrap everything up and put it to bed for the winter. I feel a hundred pounds lighter.

Or I did, until I remembered that we're moving tomorrow. I don't know how I forgot, since this is what our apartment currently looks like:


And though I abhor the process of moving, I rather adore the feeling of stepping into a brand new place, and unpacking each precious item, and finding it's place in our new home. I love the feeling of renewal, and the inevitable shedding of things that have been kept for far too long. The idea of simplifying, downsizing a tad. Of the opportunity to find order and organization from the chaos.

And I look forward to crisp autumn mornings, looking out over our new, large (and shared, unfortunately) back yard. To cool autumn evenings cuddled around our fireplace sipping hot cocoa and chai. To cuddling under blankets on the couch and reading while Miles naps upstairs in his very own room, lovingly decorated just for him. To filling our new home to the brim with love and laughter, family and friends, and memories.

And next autumn, when the leaves begin to turn again, perhaps we will be preparing to move into our own house.

Sign Language

I was talking to someone on the internet the other day about baby sign language. She said she would never teach her kids to sign, because she found it "annoying".

I couldn't respond. For one thing, I'm not sure how communicating with your child could be considered annoying. Besides, after years working with special needs students, it seemed natural to me to sign. So, when Miles was still incredibly small - less than two months old - Patrick and I began signing "milk" to him every time we gave him a bottle.

At six months old, he was consistently telling us when he wanted "milk". And if we signed it back to him before preparing the bottle, he was far calmer than when we forgot. It was obvious to us that this communication was essential for him. Frustration and tears diminished immensely on both sides.

With the success of "milk", we began adding signs. Now, at less than nine months old, Miles tells us when his diaper needs changing ("potty"), when he wants a "cookie", and "more" (though he's less consistent on that one). And, he recognizes "drink", "food", and "play".

Then, this week, he made the next cognitive leap. He wanted something he didn't have a sign for. So, he signed at me, waving his hand crazily over his head and saying "ahhh!" I told him I didn't know what that meant. He crawled over to the stereo cabinet, pulled himself up on it, and banged on the door. "Music?" I asked. He grinned and sat down, waving his hand over his head again. I turned on the music and he danced for almost fifteen minutes straight. That night, I asked Bethany for the sign for music. Then, every time he would make his crazy sign over his head, I used the sign and said, "Music?"

This morning, he signed "music" to me, clearly and earnestly.

I've read several studies, all of which conclude that babies who can communicate through sign language before they speak tend to learn to talk earlier and more clearly, and with a larger vocabulary. Plus, they tend to score higher on intelligence tests, have higher self-confidence, and are more sophisticated in their play than babies who don't sign.

I don't know about the rest, yet, but Miles has already started to talk. He clearly says, "Hi!" when people walk in. He also says, "Dada", "Mama" (when he's not being ornery), "Dg" (dog), "kitty", "hey!", and Stacey swears he calls her "Tay". (I haven't heard it yet, though it wouldn't surprise me in the least). He's beginning to learn that things have names and he will often bring me toys or stuffed animals and look at me as if asking for the word. When I know the sign, I give him both the sign and the spoken word. Otherwise, I just give him the spoken word. More and more, he tries to repeat what I've said.

And this whole process has taught me two things:

1) That poor lady who finds it 'annoying' is losing out on so much.

2) I need to learn more sign language!

Welcome to the Church, Miles

So, I've run away and joined the circus.

Not really, but that's a far more interesting reason for not posting since Saturday than the truth, which is that I just haven't had a spare moment.

On second thought, I really have run away and joined the circus. It's called the Renaissance Festival. But that's beside the point entirely.

Because the point is: My baby is baptized!!!

Sunday morning, after Mass, in front of 31 (seriously) of our closest friends and family, our Priest poured water over the head of my precious little boy. He anointed him with the oils. He blessed him. Miles' godmother, Stacey, held his baptism candle, lit from the Easter candle on Pentecost. His godfather, Chris, put the white tabbard over his head. And dozens of pictures were taken.*

And the entire time, Miles was calm. Serene. Happy.

My little angel baby has now been welcomed into our Church, and has received the gift of the Holy Spirit. On the day the Church celebrates the gifts of the Holy Spirit. The day could not have been more perfect.**

*I don't have a single one, by the way. My camera died, and no one has sent me their copies, yet. (Hint, hint)

**Except, of course, if I had pictures of it. (HINT, HINT) :)

Whirlwind Weekend Part 2

After the quick, but action-packed trip to Wichita, we found ourselves returning home very early Sunday morning (I think it was about 2:00 am when I finally found my bed). Because bright and early the next morning, we had Things to Do.

Patrick has family that lives out in Colorado - two aunts, an uncle, two cousins, and a Grandmother. One of the aunts has had a bit of a rough time over the past year. First, she lost her husband, rather suddenly. Then, within a matter of months, she found out that her company was closing down their Denver branch. She had the choice of losing her job, or transferring to one of several other branches around the country. However, transferring meant taking a pay cut, unless she moved here. So, she packed up 22 years worth of her life and moved to a new state.

Sunday, we spent the day helping Aunt Ninell move into her new apartment. Patrick's Aunt Gretchen and Uncle Mike had come along to help, and movers had been hired to do the heavy lifting, so much of the day was spent in unpacking and kibbitzing.*

Along the way, I was regaled with tales of Patrick as a child, screaming with his hands over his head when asked "How does Aunt Ninell sound in the car?" and stories of Patrick's father as a child, trying to kill his two sisters, as siblings are wont to do. I learned that Patrick's Grandpa Bud was actually named Walter, and that he had once been scared back to life by a vision of an ancestor when he'd had a heart attack. We talked of a cell phone for the elderly, which Patrick's Grandmother LaDean now wears around her neck, in case of emergency.

At the end of the day, we shared platters of barbequed meats, fried okra, baked beans, fried cheese, and sweet tea. We laughed as Miles nommed on pickles and sweet potato fries. We talked of family, Festival, and the fun of raising children. We got caught up on the latest family news, and told them of the latest happenings around here. And we laughed. A lot.

Finally, though, it came time to say our good-nights to Aunt Ninell, and our good-byes to Aunt Gretchen and Uncle Mike, as final kisses and hugs were given, and the baby was snuggled one last time. Invitations to visit were exchanged, and tentative plans were made. And we went our separate ways, filled with memories of a lovely day shared with delightful family.

*Two things that I'm told are essential for moving. :)

Jumpin' on the Bandwagon

So, I recently discovered the wonderful world of blogs, and I thought Hmmm. I could do that!

Only, my life is boring, and nobody cares to read about it. So, to those of you actually reading this drivel: Thanks, Mom and Dad! :)

(Cuz Mommies and Daddies are awesome and will read whatever drivel you write, especially if it's about their favorite grandbaby.)

So, onto the cuteness that is my son, Miles.

Miles is three and a half months old. Or sixteen weeks, if you prefer that counting method. Whatever. It's not like he cares how old he is, he's ready to take over the world already. Last weekend, as we ate at Applebee's, he suddenly decided that he was going to sit up on his own, on the table. And lo and behold! he did. Someone tell this child he's growing too fast as it is. He doesn't need to be speeding through the milestones like this.

As though that isn't enough, Miles has discovered that the ladies love him. And he loves them back, of course. He'll give you this bashful smile as he peeps at you under his eyelashes, then turn his head to the side as though your beauty is just too much for him. And of course, every time he does this, every lady in the room melts into a puddle, right there at his feet. I cannot tell you how much time I spend cleaning up puddles that used to be ladies, before my son turned on the charm. I can only imagine what we're in for in sixteen years. . .

Only then, I can pull out the fact that he used to use this same trick on Cozette (the little lithograph girl on our poster of Les Miserables). Something tells me the charm will be thrown off a little when that little tidbit comes out. :D

And like all babies, Miles has discovered his hands, and thinks they're wonderful. Then, he discovered his toes, which are even more wonderful. I just know we aren't far from the day he discovers the fun little toy I hide in his diaper. I'm sure he will find that the most wonderful thing of all.

All in all, he's amazing. And every day, he becomes a little more amazing. I can't imagine there will ever come a day when I won't find him amazing.

But should that day ever come, I'll just tell his girlfriend about his love affair with Cozette. :P