Letting Go

Occasionally, Bub has a hard time falling asleep at naptime. When this happens I go to his room, retrieve him from his crib and settle into the rocking chair. Usually he's out within minutes, his breathing deep and even, blankie clutched firmly in his chubby fingers.

As I transfer him to the crib my heart screams, Wait, what are you doing?! Hold on to him FOREVER. Fortunately, the rest of me knows that this it is not realistic to sit with my 30 pound toddler at odd angles and the crib is what's best for him.

I realize that this is the first of many internal battles I will wage over letting my baby go. Going to school, playdates without mom's watchful eye, learning to drive, I am going to have to learn to let him be independent.

Just as I've had to move on from the days of him sleeping at arm's reach, there will come a day when I will have to trust others to keep him safe and then to trust him.

I have no idea how to get from here to there.

And there's no proof!

Despite all evidence to the contrary, my kid actually does like me.

We started our morning at Starbucks. Now, I have NEVER sat in any restaurant or restaurant-like establishment by myself. EVER. However, this morning I realized that Bub has reached an age where he is actually company. You guys, we're *this* close to having an actual conversation. We shared a bagel and he sat (willingly!) on my lap for most of the time.

Our second stop was Target, where I bought many things I didn't need, and a few things I'm probably going to regret (what was I thinking buying watercolors??) As we were checking out, I deployed my secret weapon to ensure speedy service. Bub starts in with, "Hi? Hi, Hiiiii, HIIII!" until he's acknowledged. Then he immediately switches to, "BYEEE," until we're headed out the door. I find this hilarious, as it seems to kick the checker into hyperspeed and also wards off any small talk.

Finally, we popped in to our library* story time. Bub finds the playtime before and after stories to be the actual reason we're there and I'm pretty sure we could walk in, get his hand stamped and call it a day. They also have a bank of computers loaded with kid programs and he loves getting a chance to play since mommy doesn't let him near her Dell baby.

Throughout all of this Bub was full of smiles, handing out hugs like candy, holding my hand. There wasn't a single whine. It was blissful.

I'm choosing to take today's love for mama at face value rather than recognize it for what it truly was: a desperate times/desperate measures situation. When Daddy's not an option, Mom will do in a pinch.

*I would have loved to check out books, but I'm terrified that I'm on some sort of library blacklist. The one and only time I've taken out books from this library I returned them SO late I was practically in collections. And this library has a DRIVE UP BOOK DROP. And it's less than two miles from my house.

The one where my kid takes me down a notch

Dear Bub,

I'm not even sure if I should mention this. I mean, I'm certain you didn't really mean anything by your actions.

It's just, well, when your father and I are away from you for 24 hours we miss you. And, when we come to pick you up, we're very happy to see you. Yes, both of us. Even me.

So, you see, when you scream and cry actual tears all while diving from my arms towards your dad because, clearly, he is the favorite parent, and I am the equivalent of green beans, well that stings a little bit.

Listen, I get that he's a great dad. I also understand that since he has the advantage of being the employed parent, he doesn't have to lay down the law nearly as often, thus earning gold star status in your eyes.

But, if you could throw your old mom a bone once in a while, that would just make my day.

Mmkay?

Love,

Mom

On babies

Yesterday, my very best mom friend told me that she's pregnant.

I feel the need to make the mom friend distinction as I didn't know her before I was a mom. We met through a mom's group and we became fast friends. Very few of my close friends have children and of those who do, exactly one lives near me.

We're friends outside of our kids though. Our husbands get along and we spend time together without the kids.

Enough backstory? Mmkay, here we go.

I was thrilled to hear her news. I know this has been a long time coming for their family and I couldn't possibly be more excited for them. I could talk all day about how happy I am for her and not truly convey the joy I feel for them.

Do you hear the "but" coming on?

Really, it's not a but. Nothing that diminishes their happy news.

But, in light of their news, I can't help think of my own family.

My family of three.

Is it complete? Will there be a sibling for Bub? Another boy with adorable curls? A baby girl to clothe in dresses and bows?

I just don't know.

I keep saying that I'm not ready, but does ready ever come? Is there a point you just have to jump in with both feet and assume that somewhere around their fifth birthday you'll find your footing.

I'm hearing a lot of arguments for having another baby.

Bub needs a sibling. Does he? I have a brother, and we're not close. I hope that day will come. I truly truly do but currently, aside from holidays, we're not a noticeable part of each other's lives.

Bub needs a partner when you're older so he doesn't share the burden of caring for his aging parents alone. Yes, people tell me this. And while that may be a perk of having a sibling, it certainly isn't reason enough to have more children.

You got pregnant so easily last time. Yes, I did. I was lucky. Just because I'm capable of having a child does not mean that I SHOULD have another. And? There's no guarantee I would have the same experience the second time around.

If you don't do it soon, they'll be raised like only children. Remember here, Bub isn't even two yet. I understand that it's very common for people to have children 2-3 years apart. Common, but not necessary.

Then there are all of the arguments against only children. I think that the way a child grows up to act has more to do with personality and parenting, than family size.

Many days I miss being pregnant. This is a result of selective memory of course as I spent the first eighteen weeks of my pregnancy nauseated for 24 hours a day. It could have been worse, but it's still not the ideal way to pass the time. Add in the discomfort and sleeplessness, I didn't love being pregnant.

Many other days I miss having a tiny baby. But, here's the question. Do I miss babies in general or do I just miss Bub as a baby?

Wait for it.

I don't know.

Am I content being a family of three in a world built for foursomes?

I just don't know.

Guilt

With my husband's layoff comes quite a bit of guilt.

I feel guilty that I hoped that he wouldn't actually lose his job because that meant that someone else would. Someone who most likely has a family that depends on their income and may or may not have the financial safety net to get them through.

I feel guilty that I'm focusing on what this means for us, when the bigger picture is so much more dire. The economy and the fate of California teachers aside, this is a huge blow to education. Class sizes are increasing, programs like art and music are being cut, schools are losing their administrators. This is about so much more than us.

I feel guilty that I spend naptime on the couch with my DVR and my laptop, poring over blogs and Twitter, rather than job boards. The issue of me finding a job is complicated by the fact that it needs to be a work-at-home job with flexible hours. I find the whole process overwhelming, and for that, I feel guilty.

Most of all, I feel guilty each and every time I make a non-essential purchase. I don't even mean cute new shoes for mommy. I mean buying cookies when it's probably more cost effective to bake them from scratch at home.

On a larger scale, I'm looking ahead to summer. Job or not, BD will be home with us for nearly three months and we need plans, folks. Plans, because each and every time I hear, "What should we do today?" I lose my mind just a little bit. See, during the school year, Bub and I do a great job keeping ourselves entertained. I can make a whole morning out of going to Target. Unfortunately, my husband doesn't see the joy in finding treasures marked 75% off (75% less guilt!) Thus the need for PLANS.

These plans, they cost money.

While I'll be sure to find all of the free activities that are worth our time, and I will use each and every coupon in my entertainment book, this summer won't be free.

We already live by our budget. We've stuck to it for each of the 43 months we've been married. Because of that, we have the savings to see us through several paycheck free months. Months that include a small entertainment fund. The amount of that entertainment fund couldn't even pay my electric bill.

Here's hoping I can let go of the guilt and enjoy my summer with my boys.

P.S. We're still going to New York. The plane tickets and hotel are already paid for. And yes, I feel guilty about that, too.

Wholesome Family Fun (pun intended)

Bub and I had plans to go to a local farm for strawberry picking today. Nice, right? And it was, it really, really was. But, the weather? Well, let me just say this:



They took us out on a tractor and let everyone try fresh, organic produce. Carrots, celery, snap peas, boy choy, cilantro, spinach and, of course, strawberries.

At the end of the tour, everyone was allowed to pick their own strawberries. You were also encouraged to eat as much as you would like.

This thrilled Bub to no end. I had to pry the leafy tops of the strawberries from his teeth as he would just shove them into his mouth whole.


We had all packed healthy picnic lunches, but we abandoned ship for the air conditioned IHoP across the street.

And then, on the way home, we played a game I like to call Do NOT let the baby fall asleep lest naptime be ruined, RUINED. (When exactly does it become inappropriate for me to call my almost-two-year-old "the baby?")

Now, I find myself enjoying the simple thrill of a quiet house, leftover Easter candy, and central air. (Sorry environment, the ceiling fans just don't cut it when we're in the triple digits.)

Suckage

It's official.

The list of teachers who will not be returning to their jobs next year has been published.

My husband's name is on that list.

Blerg.

For the first year of our marriage, BD commuted an hour to his teaching job. This was not ideal. He would have to leave early in the morning and would come home cranky after sitting in traffic.

He looked for other jobs and found one closer to home in the district where I was working. He was sad to say goodbye to the school he had called home for six years, but he really liked his new school.

Three years later, here we are. He's much lower on the totem pole because of this job change and because of that he finds himself pink slipped.

Was this the right decision for our family? Definitely.

Does it make me do some second guessing about that decision? Sure.

I was talking to a friend yesterday mentioning that we have several months worth of savings, plus unemployment that will keep us afloat for a while.

Can teachers claim umemployment? She asked.

Of course they can. I stated, more for my benefit, than hers.

But can they? A quick Google search tells me they can, and that some even claim unemployment during the summer months. This practice seems unfair to me, but that's neither here nor there.

I'm hoping that my information is correct.

Because wouldn't that just add insult to injury if it wasn't?

Easter Recap

Easter is always a whirlwind. It's the only holiday in which we split the day between both families (all other holidays we do over a two day span) so that means doing our own Easter celebration in the morning, heading to the in-laws for church then to my parents for dinner. Oh, and BD's family came over on Saturday night for dinner.

I should mention that both of our parents still do Easter baskets for us. That means, over the course of two days, there are nine Easter baskets created for the three of us. That also means three GIANT Ziploc bags full of Easter candy at the end of it all. I'm sending two of the bags to work with BD - not before taking all of my favorites out, of course.



After racing outside to place in plain sight hide several well stocked Easter eggs, Bub found the ONLY ONE with something edible inside and refused to participate in this nonsense any further.



Grandma and Grandpa were ready with yet another doomed egg hunt.




I plan to spend the next week recovering from the holiday. And by recovering, I mean eating all the Reese's eggs I can get my hands on.

*Grandma and Grandpa's eggs? Were EMPTY.

Maddie

Because it doesn't seem right to post anything else today...

I didn't know Heather, Mike or Maddie personally. I was a new follower of Heather's blog and was shocked and heartbroken to read the update that Maddie passed away yesterday. I didn't know them, but I know them. And my heart is heavy today.

I wish there was something more that I can do. If you're so inclined, the family has asked that people make a donation to the March of Dimes in lieu of sending flowers.

A memorial for Maddie with more information can be found here.

Sundays, or Read on to see why I can't come up with a better title than this

Imagine that Saturday night involved four one too many glasses of wine. What does your ideal Sunday look like?

Go ahead, think about it. I'll wait.

...

Were you thinking:

1. Attending a second birthday party complete with pinata and bounce house?
2. A day in which your toddler insists that animal crackers and cheese are a balanced lunch?
3. Naptime ruined by a kid who is both overtired and hopped up on carbs, thus resulting in a three hour long meltdown lasting from sometime in the late afternoon until bedtime?
4. All of the above?

None of these? Hmm. Where did I go wrong?

The Art of War: Sinus Edition

If you were to bottle the about to sneeze feeling, without the sweet relief of the actual sneeze, I have a feeling it might be a successful way to torture information out of prisoners of war.

Not that I would know anything about what it's like to feel like that. For NINE hours straight.

Unacceptable

Come ON, Target.

P.S. I was so nervous taking this pictures because it's obviously up front, near the registers in a relatively populated zone. I was acting casual pretending like I was just scrolling through my email on my phone. It wasn't until later that I noticed the guy in the background hiding from the camera.

How to Win Customers and Influence Children

Have you ever set foot in a furniture store? Experienced the vulture-like stares of the sales people who will attach themselves to you, despite your repeatedly telling them that you're just looking? They promise to give you a minute, only to materialize the moment you even pause in front of a sectional or sofa table.

I have purchased many items of furniture under such circumstances. Until recently, I didn't know there was another way.

We've been looking for a new couch for our family room for a while. A sectional to be precise. It has to be super comfortable, not too big and available in a fabric that currently matches the decor of the room.

Someone pointed us in the direction of a furniture store that's mildly out of the way, but was promised to have a HUGE selection.

In the past month we've been there four times and yesterday we finally came to a decision and officially blew the last of our tax return.

I did got to a few other places to compare, but was sorely disappointed. And not just in the selection.

You see, this particular furniture store runs on an entirely different business model.

First, their sales people do not earn a commission. They are incredibly friendly and helpful, but happy to leave you alone.

Secondly, they make shopping there as pleasant an experience as it can possibly be. They offer you something to drink, coffee, water, soda (from a fountain! in a cup, with ice, a straw and a lid!)

Finally, they are family friendly. See this:


A cart that Bub was happy to sit in throughout the duration of our shopping. They even have doubles. GENIUS.

Yesterday, purchase day, was no different. Bub picked his cart (green this time,) we were offered our drinks, and as I was handing over my credit card, someone came out of nowhere with a present for Bub.

He was so proud of his new football. He didn't let go of it for the entire ride home and proudly carried it in the house to show daddy.

I'm not receiving compensation of any kind for writing this. I just think that sometimes, when people do something good, they should be recognized for it.

Not Fair

Monday night brought some bad news.

A close friend of BD's family had had a heart attack and died.

He was in his mid-50's. He left behind a shocked wife, three adult children and countless other grieving family members and friends.

There was no warning. There was no time to say goodbye.

As I type this, I'm in shock and my heart breaks for that family's loss.

It isn't fair.