Another Holiday Come and Gone

I can't believe that another Holiday season has come and gone. It happened so quickly. It seems like just yesterday, and not 2 years ago, I was sitting on the couch, just moved into the this house, eating leftover Christmas cookies, with Isaac still in my belly. Next month, my teeny baby will be 2! How does that happen?

Regardless, here I sit, contemplating where this year went and what the new year will bring for us. The Christmas tree needs to come down, and soon, to accomodate the vast amount of new things Isaac has, including his own little dinner table because he can't fit in the high chair anymore. I am looking at the ornaments that he made for me at daycare, those horribly ugly baked ornaments that are misshappen and colored with 20 colors of paint in no particular pattern because he is 2. The ornaments, along with the others, I will pack away with great care, as they are my new favorites. They are ornaments only a mother truly understands and finds magificance in.

The remainder of the holiday cookies are laying at the bottom of one large tupperware, broken and surrounded by crumbs and bits of cookie. There are bits of wrapping paper littering the floor. We celebrated hard this year, taking advantage of all the joy the holiday season can bring. Isaac made countless art projects at daycare, and we had a nice little Christmas party where I got to meet the other parents. We also made a few projects of our own, including a vast amount of Christmas cookies for our friends and coworkers.

As you can see, we went to see Santa. Sigh. It did not go so well. Isaac was sick the previous 5 days, like really sick with a fever. And this day was the only one that he didn't have a fever and was going a bit stir crazy with cabin fever from being in the house for so long. We had to wait for about an hour, and Isaac was very...energetic...to say the least. He was excitedt o be out of the house, in a crowded, bustling mall where the North Pole was set up right next to the Disney Store. When it was finally our turn, he ran up to Santa and I put him on his knee. Then the tears started. And so we ended up with the photo you see above.

We took him several times to see the Driving Lights tour nearby, and he loved it. For the rest of my life, I will never forget his little voice squealing out with glee as we parked in front of a giant blow up holiday Mickey Mouse "Oh my gosh! That's AMAZING!"

We spent Christmas, quietly, as I was sick, and Isaac was exhausted. He spent the day playing with his new toys and watching Mickey Christmas specials. We strayed from our normal Christmas dinner of pot roast and had lasagna and wine I received from one of our subcontractors. It was a peaceful day, and we enjoyed it just the three of us.  

So even as this season wraps up, the blur that it was, we are taking away some beautiful memories. This next year holds the promise of many new and aexciting opportunities, that hopefully I will be able to say more about soon. I hope that all my family and friends have had as magical of a holiday as we have.

30 Days of Truth: Day 4

Day 4: Something you have to forgive someone for

Ok, I have been held in the this "30 Days of Truth" Project because of this post in particular. I can't think of anything or anyone to write about. It's not that people don't anger or annoy me, because believe me THEY DO. And I used to hold on to all that, but then one day...I just didn't.

It made my life so much easier. And happier.

So, do I forget? Not as easily. Not in the slightest. I just can't hold on to that anger anymore, even if people don't apologize.

I have been sitting here, racking my brain for something to write about here. It turns out this is it. This is my truth. I don't hold onto that.

Wordless Wednesday

Dancing Machine

Isaac loves "Poker Face". I don't know why. I don't even know how he first heard it. I only downloaded the song after he began asking for it ALL. THE. TIME.

"Faaaaaaaayyyyyyy zzzzzz! Mama! Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!"

We listen to it on repeat. I know all the lyrics and sometimes can appease him by singing it to him if my phone or ipod is not readily available. Sometimes he will start singing it on his own.

"My my my my Faaaaaayyyyyy zzzzzz!"

And he's got some crazy dance moves. His signature move that he made up all on his own: The Sneeze. :)

Paying It Forward

Two years ago, I was pregnant. I stopped at a gas station to fill up my car on the way to work. I slid my credit card into the pump and started filling up. Now, before they took off all those little dohickeys that allowed you to run around while your car filled up, I didn't pay much attention to when the pump stopped. However, on this particular day the pump stopped way before I knew the tank could possibly be full. And to make it odder, it stopped exaclty at $30. Even. My gas never costs even amounts unless I actively pump it to a certain dollar. If you can recall, two years ago was about the time that gas costs $10000000000 a gallon, so there was no way that $30 filled up my 15 gallon tank. No receipt had printed.

I automatically assumed there was something wrong with my credit card and I had somehow stolen gas. Or that the receipt printer was broken.  I stuck it back in the pump, and it worked just fine. I finished filling up my tank. A recipt printed out just fine. I waddled (remember, I was preggers) into the service station and asked the sales clerk what had happened, apologizing prefusely for any problem I had caused, and no, I wasn't trying to steal gas, etc.

He LAUGHED at me. And he explained to me that the person who had used that pump before me had prepaid $30 in gas for the next person.

I was SPEECHLESS. Seriously. And I ALWAYS have something to say. I mean, gas was so expensive. The economy was HORRIBLE. Why would anyone do that?!

The clerk told me to have a nice day. And I did. It wasn't until a few days later that I learned about "Pay It Forward." I hadn't seen the movie. EVER. But it just happened to be on that weekend. I got it. Somehow had done that for me. So a few days later, while in the drive thru at McDs for breakfast (again, PREGGERS, don't judge), I asked to pay for the person behind me. Every now and then I will do little things like that. I will leave my change in the vending machine. I will pay for someone's Starbucks. Which is exactly what I did on Wednesday, The 2nd Annual Pay It Forward Day. I haven't been on the receiving end of a Pay It Forward action since that morning at the gas station, but that's ok.

Even if that person that benefits from you, doesn't pay it forward, you have put out a small bit of happiness, of good karma, into the universe. If you made someone smile. You did something so small, but considerate and just might have given them a bit of a better day. And maybe they made someone else's day a bit brighter because of their better mood.

The day, or the notion itself isn't about money. It's about positive energy and kindness being put into the universe, pushing out some of the bad.

The First and the Last

I remember my first Thanksgiving I spent in California. It was a big deal, as it was the first Thanksgiving that I cooked entirely by myself, the first Thanksgiving that Ben and I spent together, away from our families. We had over a friend from  grad school, and a friend from work at VS. The dinner itself went very smoothly. I remember many things about that dinner.

I remember being very nervous about cooking a turkey and having to buy a roasting pan and baster. I remember having to clear out our entire tiny freezer in to accomodate the turkey. I remember I didn't know how to make green bean casserole, a dish I can now make in my sleep, so I had to scour the internet for a recipe. I remember doing the same for deviled eggs...my husband has to have his deviled eggs for Thanksgiving. I remember sending him across the street to the 24hr Market that was only really open 20 hours a day for foil because I ran out and was terrified of scorching the turkey. I remember my friend from grad school bringing wine and a corkscrew, because I didn't own one at the time. I remember crowding around our teeny table (which we will use) in our teenier apartment and eating. I remember taking a walk after dinner, up the hill behind our block and taking in one of the most breath taking views of the lit up downtown SF, which we would continue to do as along as we lived there. I remember making a plate of food up and putting it out for the homeless man who was camped in the doorway of the abandoned building next to ours. I remember feeling a sense of accomplishment, that we had made it through this first major holiday on our own.

And now I will have memories of the last Thanksgiving, at least for a long while, that I will spend in California. I will elaborate more in a few days, once a few more details are hammered away, but for now that is all I will say. As I prepared for this dinner, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief that next year, I will only have to make ONE SIDEDISH and not a whole entire meal. At the same time I felt a tingle of sadness as I reflected over the 7 Thanksgiving Days I have prepared for and executed all by myself. Oddly, this past one was the only one my husband and I spent together, ourselves, with Isaac and no other guests. It was strangely quiet, but wonderfully peaceful and I will take these memories with me.

I will remember how my husband took me to see Harry Potter 7 on the eve before Thanksgiving, even though he was exhausted. I will remember how Isaac helped us baste the turkey...he stood by the oven and said "hot! hot! don't touch!" I will remember how we ate together at the table, Isaac chowing on turkey and crackers, which is all he would eat. I will remember attempting the Toys R Us Black Friday sale with  my neighbor, seeing the line wrapped around the building, and hightailing it back to the warm car to shop online. I will remember Isaac gobbling and dancing around to "Poker Face." I will remember having him watch Rudolph and Mickey's Twice Upon a Christmas. I will remember falling asleep with him on my bed, taking a nice long nap. I will remember Ben and I talking about what to get our budding toddler for Christmas. I will remember Isaac Skyping with our family back in Ohio and calling them out by name. I will remember being a family, just us three.

Today is really my first day back into our normal everyday life after a wonderful, relaxing break. I hope everyone had as wonderful a Thanksgiving holiday as our family did.

Confession

Sometimes, like tonight, when life seems like it completely sucks and is totally unfair, I get Isaac out of his crib and snuggle him while he is asleep. I bring him out o the couch and cuddle him in the crook of my arm like I did when he was a newborn. I do this because absolutely nothing matters in that moment other than my beautiful little boy, sound asleep and peaceful in my arms. All of a sudden, the world just makes sense again. Nothing else heals me like that.

The Most Expensive Milk

My grocery challenge went really well! Like, really REALLY well! Trying to keep in the spirit, I have been dowdnsizing what I buy DRASTICALLY and paying cash for groceries.


The other day, I needed to run in the store to get milk. Milk is about $2.99 a gallon. I had just picked up Isaac and thought to myself it wouldn't be worth trying to wrangle him into the cart just for milk. He could walk with me. Big mistake. BIG BIG mistake.


He did really well walking up to the dairy case. He even stood there while I opened it to get the milk out. Then he noticed the promotional red mylar balloons surrounded a table promoting a new coupon program. He is OBSESSED with balloons (among other things). I spent a good 5 minutes chasing him around the table and finally coralled him toward the express checkout lane.


This is where it got ugly.


Not only did I have to pick him up (try making a 22 month old boy stand in line patiently), but have you ever seen grocery checkout lines? Usually there are many balloons of a vast variety. Plus there were more promotion balloons. By the time I was paying for  my milk, Isaac was incredibly unhappy, thrashing, and screaming. Not just screaming to be put down, but screaming for a balloon.


Sigh. So I gave in. I asked the checkout girl what the cheapest balloon was. It turns out the least expensive was the promotional red mylar, ringing in at $4.99. As soon as it was in his hands, Isaac was all smiles.


Do I condone what I did? Nope. But a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.


I learned my lesson. That galloon of milk ended up costing me over $8.00 by the time tax was figured into the cost. And I don't want Isaac to think that behaving that way is ok.


Oh, and the balloon is still floating and providing him amusement. As well as my cats.

Breathe!

I am embarassingly behind in all aspects of my life. We took a vacation to Ohio for Halloween, and I haven't got caught up yet. My house is a mess, there is still laundry to do, WE GOT A DOG, work is busy busy BUSY, applications are going in (more in this later), did you know THANKSGIVING is in like 2 weeks? so I need a turkey!, bills still need to be paid while you are on vacation, Christmas is looming and I still don't have my Halloween pics downloaded....SIGH.

There is a lot in the works for the Lahman family (NO, I AM NOT PREGNANT), and I will write more soon. As soon as I can breathe again...Ok, maybe before then. Because I never catch my breath.

30 Days of Truth: Day 3

Day 3: Something you have to forgive yourself for.

I put the phone down.

I had it in my hand about 20 times that day. I stared at the keypad so many times. I dialed part of the number, the whole number sometimes, but I hung it up before it rang or before someone answered. I put it down because I knew he was mad, I knew he was upset and I didn't know what to say. I knew I couldn't say what he wanted to hear. I put it down because I was scared of the conversation and of hurting him more than I already had. And I put it down because frankly, I was tired of dealing with the situation. Period.

I put the phone down.

And the next day he was gone forever.

Would a phone call have saved him, stopped him? I don't know. But there hasn't been a day that I haven't thought about the what-ifs. There hasn't been a time that I have thought about it, really thought about it that hasn't felt like a sucker punch, that same feeling I had that time. There hasn't been a time that day didn't haunt me.

I don't know what I would have said. But I know that I would give anything to go back to that day and say something.

I put the phone down, and I am mad at myself for not making that call. No matter what the outcome. I should have made the call.

30 Days of Truth: Day 2

Day 2: Something I love about myself...


Well, let's see.


I would have to say that I love my positivity and my ability to smile.

Am I always a smiley, upbeat person? No, no way no how. But I spent too much time being unpositive and gloomy. And let's face it, that is no way to go through life. It makes life harder, and tougher. I try to focus on the good in every situation. I try to make the best of life, no matter what. Sure, I get upset and I cry. I think things play out unfairly and I would like to smack the smirks off peoples' faces. Putting energy into being upset and carrying grudges and assuming the worst just sucks the life out of me, as I imagine it does to alot of people. I don't want people to see me that way. I don't want to be the Debbie Downer. I put my energy into focusing on the good in life.


It makes life easier, being positive. It truly does. It gets you through the day just a bit easier.

We Made A Deal

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I haven't been blogging. I haven't known how to say what I really wanted to say, I guess. I dont' even know what I really want to say half the time. There are many frustrations in my life right now, and I am trying to work through them. I just feel..blah... We are all fine, work is fine, just blah. In that rut, so to speak. Now onto my real post
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When I went back to work and Isaac began daycare, I knew that inevitably I would miss out on the first time he did things. I was fully prepared to go back to work. I had my pumping schedule down, eating schedule, and was mentally prepared as much as I could be. I always knew that I would have to go back to work after a few months. I was always fine with that. Sure, I would miss my baby boy. But I struck a deal with Ben and Miss K.

If Isaac did anything that seemed like it was the first time he had done said action, say sit up, walk, talk, etc, they were strictly forbidden to tell me that he had performed said action. That way, when he did it for me, I would think it was the first time he had done it, and not feel the stab of guilt and longing for missing said first time action. It has worked remarkably well, and no one has ruined it.

Except Isaac.

He is too old for that deal now. He is doing things for me that he has clearly been practicing with his dad and Miss C and Miss S, that I think are incredible and am so proud and excited. And then I realize there is no way he hasn't done this before. I am missing it.

Like, he can identify numbers from 0-9. Ben holds up one of his blocks and asks him what number is written on it and he answers, correctly. I was so excited. But apparently he has been doing this awhile. Same with his letters. He gets A-F. And I am so proud, and then I realize that these are those that have been practiced and worked out. So my pride is still very valid, I am watching my boy learn and grow. That makes me deliriously happy, that he is making progress and becoming such a big boy. But the disappointment is there. The disappointment that I missed some things. That I will miss more things.

Apparently the person I should have made the deal with, was Isaac.

The Least Wonderful Time of the Year

Or at least it is to me...Halloween.

And it isn't because of the trick-or-treating or costumes or candy. Those things make it semi-fun and bearable.

It's because of the amped up number of scary movies and paranormal shows.

My husband loves the ghost hunter stuff and I am forced to watch them with him. It's my penance for subjecting him to Desperate Housewives I guess. But seriously, I think he thinks Eva Longoria Parker is hot, so how is that bad for him? Anyway, I get pretty creeped out sometimes. I think of all the shows he watches, Ghost Hunters is the least abrasive. There is some freaky stuff on there. Like the face that leans over the railing in the lighthouse in Florida. FREAKY. I can only take about a weekly dose of it.

You know since it is October, that means there are MARATHONS of paranormal stuff on. And we have to watch it. There are NOT Desperate Housewives Marathons. And Teen Mom is over. So what I am supposed to do to get back at him? Yes, I know I could not watch it with him. I get it. It's my fault. But I have to spend time with him. And we have limited amounts together when Isaac is sleeping and not climbing all over us like a rabid monkey.

HOWEVER...

What I can not control is the amount of scary movies released this time of year. Like Paranormal Activity 2. Now, it is to my understanding that these movies are similar to the Blair Witch Project. Like, they are made to seem real documentaries but they are actually not. They are fiction.

I will be honest. I like scary movies sometimes. I like a good thrill every now and then. What I do not like are scary movies that are so real they could happen. And most scary movies nowadays are like that. I will admit that I am fascinated by ghosts and hauntings sometimes. I just can't take large doses. Especially when I am by myself in the house alot. And when I turn on my TV and THAT IS ALL THERE IS PLAYING....I have a problem with that.

What I do not like is the trailer for Paranormal Activity 2. Why? Because not only does it play on my fear of possession and ghosts, etc....it takes it to a whole other level.

In the trailer, there is a small boy, maybe around Isaac's age, sleeping in his crib. And then you see him drug across the crib by his feet, and pulled straight up. The next scene is the little boy standing, looking over the crib, with his pet dogs barking madly at the open door. Then you see the little boy thrown from the crib and drug out of the room by his feet. The next part is an angry looking dead woman, I mean, I assume she is, hunched in the doorway looking all possessed and whatever.

It made me want to cry and bless Isaac's room with Holy water, just in case.

And it made me angry.

I get thrills and chills this time of year. I get making spooky movies meant to scare the bejeebus out of people for entertainment purposes. But this played on a different type of fear. A FEAR THAT SOMETHING MIGHT HAPPEN TO HURT MY BABY.

And that, quite frankly, just pisses me off. IMMENSELY. As a mother, I do not find it remotely entertaining that people are trying to capitalize this fear, the fear that is instilled in them as soon as they become a mother. That fear, that divine instinct to protect your child...not for entertainment purposes.

I can tell you that if something like that EVER happened to me and my family, I would be terrified. And I would be PISSED. If anyone hurt my baby, dead or alive...WATCH OUT. Watch out ghosts who are pissed we are living in your house. I am pretty sure my anger in that case would overcome my fear of paranormal.

Same thing with aliens. But that is a whole other story.

Anyway, I can't stand that trailer. And it's on ALL THE TIME. I have to turn the channel. Or close my eyes and sing "Poker Face."

Only 17 days left in October. When does this movie come out? Hopefully after this month, they will move on to Christmas Movies. Or Harry Potter. OOOHHHH, Harry Potter. I think I just found my new happy place to go to for the damn trailers.

Wordless Wednesday

30 Days of Truth: Day 1

I got the idea to do this from Issa. It's 30 days of honest posts, revealing truths about yourself. I won't be doing all of them in a row, but will do all 30. I think it's a great exercise.


So Day 1 is something you hate about yourself.


Hate is a strong word, you know? I can't say there is anything that I really HATE about myself, but there are things that I dislike, quite strongly in fact.


I think the thing about myself that I dislike the most is that I always have to be in control.


To me, being in control of my life and everything that is in it (Read: EVERYONE) means that I will always know what is going to happen. I will know the outcome. Yes, I know that is not true. I know that things will inevitably happen outside of my control. That's what makes life what it is: Life. It makes it unique. But I hate that. I feel like when I don't have control over things, it means I don't know how things will play out. And that they could play out badly. That I, or someone that I love, could get hurt. That I could lose something. I have to be in control. I just do.


I feel like this holds me back. It holds my family back. It prevents spontaneity. And it makes me insane when things happen outside my control.


It's something I am working on, something that I want to change about myself. I want to be able to relish the moment and not worry about what may happen. I don't want to spend my life in a state of worry about how to prevent myself from not being in control. I don't want to live like that. I want to be able to put trust in other people to carry out tasks that I could do without the responsibility. Little things, big things. It doesn't matter. I have to be in control. I have to be in the know, and I have to have some control. Or I become all chaotic and twirly. My husband is very patient with me, since he gets most of my control issues. He is more patient than I would be. Ooohh, patience. I lack that. That would have been a good one to write about too.


Deep down, I know that I can't control everything. I know that's impossible. But too much has happened that I haven't been able to control. And to me, if I have some control, some power over my life, maybe when those things happen, they won't destroy me again.

Complacent

I have never been the type of person who lets life happen to her. I have always made my life happen. I know what I want and I do what it takes to get there. People who don't and complain about their situation kinda bug me. Ok, that's not true. They DO bug me. I mean, if you are unhappy in your situation, you are the only one who can change it. You have to make things happen for you. You can't just wait around until something happens. That's lazy.


And then I realized that I HAVE become that person to an effect. I lost sight of what I want, who I want to be, where I want to be. I feel like my husband and I have been waiting for something to happen to us, to give our lives direction. That's not likely, right? I mean, we aren't moaning and bitching. We know we have it pretty good. We like California. We have jobs that give us benefits. We have a healthy baby (ok toddler, whatever). And it's not that we are unhappy.


But in a way, we are. We know that bottom line, we don't want to stay here forever. We want our kids to have a yard. We want a house. We want alot of things that aren't impossible to get in this area, but will be harder to obtain. So we have kinda been putting our feelers out there to see what could happen. And nothing has. Because we are waiting for it to happen, and we aren't MAKING it happen. We are waiting for something to point us in the direction.


How do you make something happen when you don't know what you want? We have become complacent and I can admit that. We are happily unhappy. We are living day to day and not thinking about the future in the way we should be thinking. We are waiting for a push and somehow that led us to complacency. We have started to become people who wait for life to happen. And we don't want that.


What are the next steps? How to fix this? What is broken that requires the fixing? WHAT DO WE WANT?


I don't like that I have become this way, truly. I know alot in our lives has changed. We are definately different people than we used to be, as we should be. Experiences have changed us, made us wiser. We know that there are certain ways NOT to do things and obtain what we want. And we know that some of the things we thought we wanted, in fact, are just not right for us. Maybe some of the thing we had previously disregarded are now right for us, for our future.


Bottom line is that we need to figure out what we want. As individuals, and as a family. And then figure out how to make it a reality.

Wordless Wednesday

Grocery Challenge Update

I am pleased to say that I have completed 2 weeks of my Grocery Challenge. The last shopping trip to get me through to today consisted of 3 lbs of ground beef, one yellow onion, 2 lbs of bananas, one head of garlic and one bag of lettuce. My total was $10.41 which was fine since I had leftover from the previous trip where I only spent about $7.50. The fridge definitely looks emptier, and the cupboards are getting there.

This week is going to be a stretch. I made a list of potential meals, and some of them are creative. We shall see how it goes. :)

Mommies Can't Get Sick

On Sunday, I got sick. I mean, I got SICK, like fever, sore throat, bad headache. And you know, mommies can't get sick. They can't get sick because the universe becomes seriously unbalanced. The house falls apart. My husband works long hours away from home, so I get that I carry most of the burden. Just saying, I am a CONTROL FREAK. So I kinda pretended like I wasn't sick, which meant I still went about doing my chores, shopping, and such. When Isaac went down for his nap, I took my temperature, and IT WAS NOT PRETTY.

I am always reluctant to stay home from work. Not because of work itself, but because I don't ever get a day off. I mean, unless I take the kiddo to daycare. And that just makes me feel guilty, like I am at home, not making money, and paying for someone else to watch him. Anyhoo, I knew that I had to stay home Monday. I needed to sleep, and Ben would be home for Daddy Daycare. So when he got home on Sunday, I was laying pitifully on the couch, mind you in a CLEAN HOUSE.

"If I stay home from work tomorrow to rest and get better, you will still watch the baby, right?"

"Um...yes."

"Are you sure? Like, it won't be like when I was in the emergency room last year and supped up on painkillers and I had to stay home and rest on Dr's orders and somehow you thought that meant you needed to take a nap and I needed to make dinner while watching the kid?"

".....no...."

And in all fairness, it was not a repeat performance. However, I still felt the need to do chores and such, because again, Mommies can't really get sick. And how do I explain to my 20 month old son that he can't come play with Mommy when she is home?

Which explains another reason Mommies can't get sick.

When Mommy gets sick, Isaac gets sick. Which he did.

It breaks my heart when he is sick, because he just lays there on the couch, on Bunny Buddy, all droopy eyed and quiet. The past two days have been better, no fevers. And today he is back at daycare, and apparently fine.

Sigh. It's been a long week. Because Mommies can't sick. They fall behind, one way or another.

Wordless Wednesday

What's Wrong With This Picture?

I could never be a teacher. I know this about myself. I am not patient. I mean, I have a newfound amount that came with the birth of Isaac, but I still do not really consider myself an overall patient individual. I taught Gen Bio labs while in grad school, and can I just tell you how much that took out of me? I mean seriously, kids, if you can't figure out how to turn on the damn microscope by the last week of class, MAYBE YOU SHOULD RETHINK THE PREMED MAJOR. Just sayin.


Anyway, I know this about myself. I don't have it in me to be a teacher, let alone a GREAT one like some of the ones that I have had throughout my education. Seriously, I have had some amazing teachers. And when you are in grade school (My third grade teacher was PHENOMENAL, my favorite to this day), you don't think about the sacrifices those teachers are making for you. I grew up in a small town. My graduating class was like 129. We had drive your tractor to school day (SERIOUSLY) and got out for junior fair day. But still, I had teachers that cared enough to make a difference and impacted my life in such a way that I went on to follow my dreams and to think that I can and will achieve them. My HS biology teacher gave me this profound love of science that still burns within and my math teacher made it FUN AND UNDERSTANDABLE. I still use my high school calculus notes. In college, my favorite professor CHANGED MY WAY OF THINKING. He made me into a scientist.


Anyway, I had the honor to be exposed to these wonderful teachers. And throughout my life, I have had the honor to get to know other teachers, who just happen to be my friends.

And let me tell you, I love my friends. And I hate hearing that they are treated poorly, or struggling. Especially when they are doing something for other people, like TEACHING. Of all my friends, I would have to say that my teacher friends, no matter what grade level, make the least amount of money, work the hardest, and get the least gratitude in their positions.

I get that some professions deserve to be high paid. Like doctors. I see no reason why a brain surgeon who saves lives day in and day out shouldn't make a high amount of money. But an actress? Or professional athlete? Give me a break. Don't get me wrong, I like movies as much as the next person. And TV. And I have been known to watch some professional sports. Bit let me be frank in saying in no way, now how do those people deserve to make more money than the people who educate and shape our children. No. Way. In my opinion, they are saving lives in their own way, just like the aforementioned brain surgeon, in their own way.

Ihear the struggles my friends have. And while on my recent trip back east, I saw the struggles of one friend who teaches science to high school students in a not so nice neighborhood. How she does it, I do not know. I can't fathom. The hours she puts in, the time. The time away from her family and friends, away from her home. The money that comes from her own pocket. The energy, oh THE ENERGY she has to muster. I couldn't do it. Flat out, I could not do it. I saw first hand what she deals with on a day-to-day basis. I just couldn't.



So even though I am not a teacher, I hold them near and dear. And I hope there are some drastic changes to the educational system before my children are immersed in it. A MILLION THANKS GO OUT TO EVERY TEACHER THAT I KNOW, THAT HAVE SHAPED MY LIFE.

***This post was written after reading the letter posted by several friends, also teachers, who deserve mass props.***

Mish Mash

My delightful co-worker A so delicately pointed out that I haven't blogged in a week. Sorry, over a week. So here, I am stuck with writer's block, big time, throwing together a post of updates, I guess. Let's start with a visual aid. :)

Isaac likes swings again! We discovered a new park, where ducks swim semi-free in an enclosed pond that also contains mutant koi. Whew, the "IHATESWINGSGETMEOUTOFTHISTHINGRIGHTNOWORIWILLSCREAMANDSCREAMANDMAYBEEVENBITEYOU" phase is over, seemingly. And he is so over the little play structures that are age appropriate. He wants to be on the big kid ones. And we, uh...kinda let him. He's an adventurous, fearless little boy. The way this kid climbs, you would like he was part monkey. We follow him and make sure he isn't leaping off things. He pretty much just wants to climb and go down the big slides. He knows to sit down at the top and not lean over the side. He makes it sound as though the climbing is alot of effort because with every single step, we usually get an exertionous grunt (is that a word, hmmmm I hope so). We don't let him go on said structures if there are big kids who actually belong on the big equipment there, and I wouldn't get pissed (assumably) if he injured (knock on wood) himself on them because I let him on there. I TAKE FULL RESPONSIBILITY HERE!

Speaking of the little man (still my baby boy), he has developed an affinity for Lady Gaga and Glee. TRUE STORY. He is partial to "Bad Romance" but he will also sing along to "Telephone." I think it's adorable that he will sing "el-o, el-o bay-be" and I am pretty sure he likes the singing on Glee.

And he counts to 10! He can get to 6 unassisted, and needs a bit of coaxing past 7 and 8, but definately gets the 9, 10. :)

So, the 3 week great stash reduction of 2010...I am happy to say that I have only spent $7.48 of my $10 budget. And to be honest $2.50 was on accident. I am so accustomed to impulse buying, that last weekend at Target, I threw 100-calorie cupcakes into the cart without even thinking about it. I didn't even realize I had bought a grocery until I got home. Anyway, Other than that, I have only bought milk for me and Isaac. I have used several canned goods, two boxes of pasta, and several things from the freezer. We have had fried chicken, spaghetti and meatballs, turkey chili, potato crunch fish, pizza, and mac and cheese. And to be honest, I am not seeing any dent made in the stash. Maybe because it is the first week? Or maybe because I just have THAT MUCH STUFF.

There are several professional opportunities looming on the horizon for me and hubs. Hopefully (fingers crossed, please please PUH-LEASE), something will pan out successfully for one of us, providing us with the opportunity for change. We are feeling a bit stuck right now. Like, that inbetween phase, where you know you have to move forward, but you need that little kick start in that direction.

No more decision has been made on whether or not the IUD is actually coming out in November either. :( Much trepidation though. I think it depends on how the aforementioned pans out.

Tomorrow we are going to the SF Zoo, with a friend and her two kids that I haven't seen in AGES. I haven't seen her son since he was an itty bitty baby, and I have never met her daughter, nor has she met Isaac. I am deliriously excited.

Ok, that is seriously all I have now. I am suffering serious writer's block. Hopefully it will vanish soon. I apologize. :(

The Challenge Has Been Accepted

I have this almost OCD where I have to have full cupboards and a full freezer/fridge. I buy in bulk and when stuff is on sale. I got a vacuum packer for my bridal shower, and I love it. I can buy the value packs of meat and then put them in the deep freezer. I save money or so I think. The problem is I forget that I have it. Example: I buy spaghetti when it goes on sale for 75 cents a box. I put it in my cupboard. We don't use the spaghetti, and I go shopping the next week. Spaghetti is on sale again. I can't remember if I have any, so I buy more. I end up with 5 boxes of spaghetti in my cupboards. 5 boxes! That's 10 meals with that type of pasta! Another example: chicken goes on sale and I buy a value pack. I vacuum pack it into meal portions. I put some in my freezer and some in my deep freezer. I may or may not use some that was stored in my freezer. I go shopping again and this time the bags of chicken are on sale. I buy one, maybe two because 3 pounds of chicken for 2.99 is a good deal! The bags go into my deep freezer. You get the idea.

My current grocery budget is about $75-$100 a week, putting us between $300 and $400 per month. For a family of 3, that includes a toddler. Granted, my husband eats alot. And so does my toddler. And sometimes we are feeding my BIL and various other people, and we take leftovers for lunch so we don't waste a whole lot of food.

Or do we?

Here is my challenge. For the next 3 weeks, I am only alloted a grocery budget of $10 per week. This should buy fresh milk and produce and possibly bread for lunches if needed. For all other food, I have to use up what I have in the house. It's time to deplete the stash.

This should not be too hard, in all honesty. But I am really nervous about it. BECAUSE I AM A PACK RAT! I HAVE A DISEASE, PEOPLE!

This was sparked yesterday evening when I went to the store for crescent rolls and grapes and came out $50 later. Upon putting things away, I realized I already had most of the items I had just purchased or something very similar. The challenge starts today, and I don't get my $10 budget until Monday since I already went shopping. I should need milk by then, so that's my $ date. I have to get through until at least October 8th.

So here we go! On tonight's menu: Oven fried chicken, southwestern hashbrowns and leftover veggies.

Wordless Wednesday

Road Maps

When my husband (who was my fiancee at the time) made the journey across the US from Ohio to California, we had this marvelous little tool from AAA called a Trip Tix. It was great. It mapped out our entire suggested route and gave all necessary information. It gave us the toll roads, construction that was occurring. It gave us suggested hotels and resturants, auto repair facilities, touristy attractions, gas stations, etc. It came with a bunch of those paper road maps and a big fat atlas that I don't know if we still have or not. It was cumbersome, but it got us easily and relatively uneventfully from point A to point B. It gave us a clear route that was logical and easily navigated.

Last week, while on vacation, I drove to Virginia to see one of my college roomies, Kelly. I drove all day on Tuesday and then all day Thursday to come home. The trip was fantastic, albeit too short, but the activities themselves are not the point of this post and what I refer to. It was the trip there.

I used our GPS Garmin thingie. Lord, what on earth did we ever do without these navigation systems (oh, right...the trip tix)? How did we find our way anywhere? I hardly remember what life was like without these marvelous little GPS satelites recalculated my route. Merely plug in your destination address, and viola! I have a perfectly mapped route, getting me there in a timely fashion. It even tells me if there is traffic backing up the roads. I needed a starbucks fix in the middle of my trip and it found me one! If I got lost or made a wrong turn or missed my exit because I was singing Lady Gaga at the top of my lungs (totally hypothetical), it easily got me back on course. With the aid of little Garmin, once again a long voyage was made easy from point A to point B with few to no snafus.

And while in the car, I had a lot of time to think. You know what would be nice? A little life Garmin. Like say for instance, I want Job A and to live in City B while having Child C and volunteering at Organization D with Accomplishments and Certifications E,F, and G. I type it in and it tells me the easiest way to get there and how long it will take. It maps the journey for me. And if I get thrown off course, it will tell me how to get back on track. If I want to take a little detour, I can plug that in as well, and it will recalculate for me.

I would even settle for Life Trip Tix from AAA.

My vacation gave me alot to think about. Now, I just have to figure out how to get there. And I have to do it on my own, no GPS.

Wordless Wednesday

Toddler Idol

***First, before I write anything about what I actually want to write about, I need to say that I orginally typed baby instead of toddler in the title of this post. Because to me, no matter how old he gets, that is always what Isaac will be. Even when he is 70 and (hopefully) I am 98. My BABY. But alas, he is definately a full blown TODDLER.***

Occasionally, Isaac sings. He will fill in the EIEIO of me singing "Isaac Lahman Has a Farm" and anythign that has one-word type lines, like "Hey Soul Sister" 's Ay Ay, AY yay ay yay yay, and "Buffalo Solider" 's Oye yoy yoy. However, on the trip to GG Park to see the aunties, he recently busted out "we're rough!" in NKOTB's "Hangin' Tough" (dont' judge. You know that still sing it too) as we were rocking out in the car. It was ADORABLE as it came out "we ruuuuuuuuttttt!" with a huge smile and gigles. We are working on the Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh arm waving.

The other night, Isaac continued to demonstrate his passion for vocals and a career as a mega idol. We were sitting on the couch, enjoying pre-bedtime milk and looking at books. I was finishing up the last 15 minutes of "Glee" which I had ashamedly fallen asleep during. During "Total Eclipse of the Heart," Isaac starts to full on belt out nonsensical words and swaying back and forth on the couch.

He sang for the 3 minute duration of the song. I have no idea what he was singing, but it was hilarious.

My heart swelled as my baby, ok, my TODDLER, broke into a new milestones, demostrating his love of music. Now I try to get him to sing all the time, which of course he bashfully laughs and runs away. I will catch it on video and send it immediately to Sony or at least Ryan Seacrest because this type of talent should not be ignored. :)

Deep Breath

This morning, Isaac and I are leaving for Ohio, for vacation. After a 6 hour direct flight from SFO to DTW, assuming we both make it because let's be honest...that's a long freakin time to try to keep a toddler wrangled into an airplane seat without drugging him or myself, we will spend a week with family, friends, and fainting goats.

Yep, Isaac will be attending his first county fair, complete with fainting goats, elephant ears, sno cones, and that game where you pick up a duck and win a prize. I am sure he will love that game, and we will return to California with about $20 worth of cheapie sunglasses, necklaces, and bouncy balls. He gets to spend hours upon hours being spoiled rotten by his grandparents and uncles, and meeting new friends. He gets to play with Cissy and Norton. He gets to play with his great-grandparents.

I get to see high school friends that I haven't seen in YEARS, see my college roommate's new house, new puppy, and Lady Gaga (that's right, I said it), and eat delicious ice cream from Jeni's with my roommate from Spain. I get to (hopefully) meet my bloggy idol who also hails from the magical midwestern motherland and went to a high school one town over (um...so sorry about those paitned chickens in your hall during senior year homecoming....). And do the above mentioned with Isaac. I am leaving him with my parents and probably boatloads of sugar, and driving to Virginia to see K. This is a total Mommy-vacation. I can't help my babysitters live in Ohio.

And let me tell you, I need the break. I need the mental relief. I paid all the bills due next week. I stocked the fridge with bachelor food and beer for my husband. I busted my butt at work so in theory, I won't hear a word from them the entire week. I NEED THE BREAK. I need to not have a schedule, or look at a clock or calendar and wonder where the hell the day went. In fact, my vacation does not have a calendar. Or a watch. As long as I make it to the airport on time on the following Saturday to catch my return flight, we are golden.

Deep breath....do the question is posed: Do I remember how to relax?

How It's Supposed To Go, Right?

The other night, I had to bring up the taboo subject in our house: Money. Sigh, the root of all evil. The reason a great deal of marriages fail. The driving force behind horrible arguments.

When my husband and I talk about money it usually goes like this:

Me: "How did you blow through $200 in cash in just 4 days? Are you on drugs?"

Him: "Um....NO. Why would you think that?"

Me: "Well, I pack you lunch everyday. I buy you beer and gatorade and sodas. I buy you snacks. I just don't really see what you are spending that money on unless during your lunch you are sloughing over to GG Park to hit up your dealer."

Him:"Are you serious?"

Me, putting on my saddest face I can muster: "I just hope the crack is worth it. I mean, I am going to have to wrap our son's butt in paper towels since we won't be able to afford diapers soon. Just promise me you won't sell him."

Him: "I don't even know what to say to you right now..."

Ok, so that is a nice version of what I usually say to him. In all seriousness, we have a problem communicating about money. Mostly because I am the one who pays the bills every month and does the shopping, etc. This role was just kind of assumed. He was taking care of financials for businesses, and really, who wants to come home and do the same thing? Plus I am a control freak. So here we have me paying the bills and seeing where every cent we make goes, and him pulling in the $$$ and not knowing anything. Now, this may be a big flashing warning to most of you, but I didn't see how big of a problem this was.

My husband hears me bitch about money all the time. He hears me talk at him about not spending and how he blows too much. And he sees the numbers on his paychecks, and how much time he spends at work. He feels justified in spending money.

And you know, he's right. We do make great money. And we should be able to enjoy it. If we want to spend $146 on a case of car cleaner, we should be able to (guess who made this purchase?). If we want to take a trip, we should be able to. And I shouldn't have to check the bank accounts every monring in fear wondering how much he blew the day before on corn nuts and 5 hour energy drinks.

The other day, the light bulb went on in my head. He needed to see exactly what we paid each month to our credit cards, car payment, insurance, groceries, diapers, cell phone, loans, etc. He needed to see what we owed and to whom. So I pulled it all together. I added things up. I prioritized what I thought should be paid off first, how much we should save. I decided it was time to get on the same page. I couldn't expect him to just automatically go with what I say. I mean, he respects me, but come on. One of the reasons I love him is that he has his own opinions and dreams. And he goes after them. And he expresses them.

When he came home from work, the best thing happened. Well, other than winning the lottery. We sat down and talked like adults. Like married adults with responsibilities. We COMMUNICATED. We both laid it all out and we got on the same page. He talked about how he felt and what he wanted. I talked about how I felt and what I wanted. And we listened. We made decisions and suggestions.

That's how it's supposed to go, right? This is how married people are supposed to communicate? It only took me 5 years to figure out.

Bunny Buddy

For his first Easter, my MIL gave Isaac a big blue bunny. At the time, this bunny was bigger than he was. We gave it to him right away, but he wasn't really interested in it too much besides to chew on it occassionally and to feel the silky fur. We put it into his crib, which he wasn't sleeping in, and it occassionally moved around his room, before ending up back in his crib permanently. Now? He loves it. I mean, he looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooves it. Loves it so much that for months it had a hole in the back from where he had pulled on it repeatedly. Once he got big enough, while he was "supposed" to be sleeping or when he woke up and was waiting to get up, he would yank the stuffing out of the hole and toss it all over the floor aroudn his crib. Oh, the bunny massacres we saw. Last week I finally put more stuffing in and stitched him up. Perfect timing.

Isaac wants the bunny to go EVERYWHERE. He shows me "bun-neee" every morning when I get him up. He cuddles him immediately when he lays down. The pillow in his crib is pointless. He only wants to lay on the blue bunny. And more often than not, bunny has to follow us to breakfast and sits ontop of another chair to watch mickey mouse with him while I get ready. He drags bunny around by his long ears or holds him tight around the middle and toddles around haphazardly because the bunny is still about as long as he is.

Sweetly, sometimes "bun-nee" comes out as "bud-deee." This led us to refer to blue bunny as Bunny Buddy.

Wordless Wednesday

The Price Tag

Over the weekend, I watched the movie "Up In the Air." I had heard good things about this film, and I was anxious to see it. The movie itself was not what I expected, but I enjoyed it. One line stuck out to me and had me thinking the rest of the day.

"How much did they first pay you to give up on your dream?"

This line resonated with me as much as the character that George Clooney said it to. And just like that character, I immediately knew the answer.

They paid me $37,000 a year. Plus benefits. And a sweet discount.

And I didn't think I was giving anything up at the time. I thought I was getting a sweet deal. I had just gotten back from my wedding and honeymoon, and the summer was turning to fall. The thought of beginning a job search to find a job in my field seemed daunting and somewhat pointless. We didn't know where my husband's job was going to lead, and it seemed like the right thing at the time.

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. In retrospect, I gave 5 years of my life to a company that didn't give a tiny rat's ass about me as person, as an individual. I made beautiful, wonderful friends there. I got great experience there. But it was clear, from the beginning that I was not following my dream. I was not happy, not truly happy. I gave up a job in a lower paying position in my field that might have been just what I needed. I passed up the opportunity because someone was offering me a flashy price tag.

A few years, I fortunate enough to get an out. The company I worked for started showing their true colors in my mind, and I realized that my dream was not to move forward with this position. I wasn't going to be a store manager, I didn't want to be a corporate person. I didn't want to spend my life or frankly, one more minute that I didn't have to. So began the search for something that would let me follow what I really wanted to do, what I knew in my heart would make me happy.

And you know what? It was HARD. That 5 years made it HARD to get back on the track I wanted to be on. And it was because of that price tag. It was because we were used to that paycheck, and frankly needed that paycheck. Any less would make life harder. And I am not saying that I don't need to pay my dues, because I do. People who think that just because they went to college, they deserve their dream job right away, make me stabby. People that don't think they need to work to acheive what they want. I believe in lucky breaks, sure. But I also believe in hardwork. I am starting a few years later than I should have.

Again, I was fortunate to fins a new job that paid me better and would allow me to get back on track. 3 years later, and I feel like I am finally get a sense of what I truly want, and where I want to be, what I want to do with my life. And it's a struggle. It's not coming easy, especially in today's economy. The competition is fierce and my decisions are not only limited by finances (still) but also by how it will affect my son. I am not willing to compromise his stability or his schedule at this time. That is a personal decision that we made as a family. And it isn't one I am going to retract on.

At this point in my life, I know I live with the choices I made. Of course there are things I would have done differently, money I would have saved, decisions I would have made differently. But ultimately, I know I made the best choice, seemingly at the time. I finally feel like I can getting back to the point that I dreamed of being at, the job I envisioned, the life I wanted.

But that was how much I got paid to give up following my dream. Was it worth that? Nope. You can't put a price on that.

Duckies

Yesterday Isaac and I spent the day with Auntie Karen and Auntie Gail. We started with our usual date at Olive Garden (ooohhh have you tried the zeppoli?!) and did some shopping (correction, I did some returns, they did some shopping. Oh, water, water everywhere....) before leaving the mall and heading to Golden Gate Park. We usually end up somewhere where little boo can run around like a crazy fool, his reward for watching us shop without causing too much disruption and damage. I specifically packed some bread so he could feed the ducks and let's be honest. The bread sticks from Olive Garden are too good to save for the waterfowl. :)

Anyway, Isaac clearly had a blast. He's such a curious and adventurous little boy, I don't even try to hold him back from the dirt and falling down anymore. He loves to climb and run and shreik. And he got plenty of all three!

By the end of the day, he was screaming for the "dah keees" and quacking. :) He fell asleep on the car ride home.

Wordless Wednesday

On the beach with Nonnie, very overexposed, but I still really like it. :)

Half of My Heart

This morning, Isaac woke up on his own. He has been so tired lately, he is going to bed earlier. I wanted him to be in a good mood for as much of the day as possible, so I put him down at 7:45. He was rubbing his baby blues and saying he was "sweepy" around 6.

He woke up in such a good mood. I can always hear him wake up. He plays in his bed for a while, mostly ripping stuffing out of the big blue bunny that I keep forgetting to sew up. When he is ready to get up he starts to call us. "Mom! Maaaaaaa-ma! Helllooooo! Mom! Daddddddddeeeeeee! Hellooooo! Kit-teee!"

He was all smiles and excited when he sat down for his breakfast of scrambled eggs and cheese, mini pancakes, and blueberries. We don't usually eat breakfast at home on daycare days, but this new daycare doesn't serve breakfast and doesn't open until 8. We have extra time now. He even got to play a little. We brushed our teeth together. I am positive he was thinking this was going to be a mommy day.

I told him it was time to go bye-bye. He said no and ran away from me. I turned off Ma-mo and he turned it back on. I turned it off again and held out his coat. He threw himself on the floor and cried. I scooped him up and got his coat on. We cuddled for a minute. He walked himself to the car, maybe now thinking that we were just going to the store like we do some mornings.

We drove the minute (seriously, it was one minute, if that) to the new daycare center. I parked the car and watched a little red haired girl get out of the car with her mommy. She was younger than Isaac, maybe only 9 months old. I turned in the car to look at him, he was also watching the little girl, being carried in by her mommy. He looked at me with sad eyes, seeming to realize what was going on.

I got him out of the car, and gathered his bag, blankie, and papers. We went inside the sunny house and said hi to everyone there. We sat down and took off his shoes. He climbed all over me like a monkey. Everytime I put him down, he climbed back up. We played with the office setup for a few minutes. We looked at the fishies. And then...then, I had to hand him over and leave for work. And then, the screaming began. The thrashing. The tears.

I choked back my own tears as I walked from the house to my car, watching him screaming in the window, Miss S waveing goodbye. I cried all the way to Starbucks and then for about 20 minutes in the parking lot before I finally was able to wipe my eyes and go in for my Dark Cherry Mocha.

I cried because I left half of my heart behind, sad and scared.

I know Isaac will be happy at the new daycare. I know he will love it and learn and make new friends. He will have fun. I know it is the best decision for him, for me, for all of us. I didn't cry because of those things. I didn't cry because I was leaving him somewhere where I didn't think he belonged.

I called a few hours later. He was fine, Miss S said. He fed the fish and played with the Guinea pig. He unpacked his things into his cubby. He stood by the door, watching for mommy before starting to play.

I have to go pick up the other half of my heart now.

Anxious

On Friday, Isaac will start at his new daycare center. This is the bigger daycare center right down the street from our house. He is going to be going there on Fridays until November, when he will start full time. (The other two days he is playing at Miss C's house, who has him 3 days right now).

Anyway, I am feeling all kinds of anxiety about taking him there. Not really bad, but...anxious. I don't know how to accurately describe it. I filled out the thick packet of paperwork, signing forms, filling out phone numbers, copying vaccination papers. And as I was signing the form that waived liabilty of the center to pay any medical expenses that Isaac may incur while in their care...I got all...anxious. Not that I think that Isaac will incur mass medical expenses and I need to have my proof of medical insurance, etc. But that here I am for the third time in his little life, entrusting my precious baby boy in someone else's care and leaving him there.

This is the third stranger he has to meet. The third new house he has to learn and adapt to. The third new group of kids he has to learn to play with, share with, get along with.

It just seems really unfair, that I am putting him through this again, just when he is getting so happy at Miss C's. I know he is young, and he adapts so easily (so far). He is social and friendly. And I am sure he will be absolutely fine.

I feel like I am being selfish. Like I should have planned better before and while I was pregnant. I should have saved more and payed more bills, so we would be in a better position for me to stay home with Isaac. I should have done something, ANYTHING differently, because I just feel so...anxious about it. Like, maybe I should have agreed to leave him at Miss C's until November and make another clean break for him. Maybe I should have agreed to take him to a different place that was available for full time right now, instead of waiting for this center.

Maybe I should not feel like I need my job in my life, like I need that part of my old life in my new life as mom. The truth is, 9 days out of 10, I relish the 8 hours I am at work and doing what I am good at. I like having this bit of my life that doesn't really revolve around me being a mommy. That makes me feel guilty. I don't like feeling that way.

Despite how I feel today or tomorrow, inevitably, on Friday morning, I will pack up his diapers, wipes, extra clothes, extra medicines, blankie and cup, and drop my son off at his third daycare. His third daycare in 19 months.

The End of the Pup-as as We Know It

Isaac loooooooves dogs. Loooooooooves them. He loves Dozer, my BIL's dog. He loves any dog, anytime, anywhere. And for the longest time, he would call them "Pup-as" because he couldn't really say "puppy." We all knew what he meant. He would scream it in delight whenever a dog was in sight or even when he heard barking. He thought the sea lions at Pier 39 were "pup-as" because they were barking (insert science lesson from Mommy here). He can pick them out on TV and plastic ones in the store, photos in books, drawings. He loves the "pup-as."

Last weekend, I heard something that made me very proud and broke my heart at the same time.

"Pup-pee! pup-pee!"

Somewhere, some time, my son had learned to say "Puppy." Gone are the days of "pup-as." We are strictly a "Pup-pee" family now. Like I said, I am very proud of him, and the progess he is making in his development and learning. But at the same time, I cling to these relics that make him my little baby, and uniquely him.

When he stops calling Mickey Mouse "Ma-Mo" I think I will cry for days. Seriously, he knows how to say "Day-zee," "Goo-fee," "Meeen-eee," "Down-ol," and "Plew-tooo." So I know my days are limited, and I am busting out the video camera every single chance I get to record these precious moments.

Sometimes I think he still says "Ma Mo" because he knows we love it, kinda like kids saying they still believe in Santa Claus to humor their parents (or to mooch extra gifts for a few years). It works, because Isaac is swimming in Mickey paraphenalia and is going to Disneyland for Christmas.

Ah, my sweet baby boy. Can't you stay itty bitty a few days more? Why must you grow up so quickly?

My BlogHer'10

I was really going to try to go to BlogHer this year. Like, I was seriously all gungho about it, and waiting to purchase my ticket. My husband said I could go if I kept my cost under $500-$600 and I figured out how to do it.

Well, obviously and sadly, I did not end up going. And not for change of heart, because I really really REALLY still wanted to go, both for the experience and I wanted to meet my friends.

After deep conversation with my husband, we decided it best for our family that I do something else (and by deep I mean I was probably annoying him and to shut me up he said "Look here...pick one or the other because I don't which but we aren't paying for both).

Remember how I am a science geek? Well, to enhance my geekness, I decided that I wanted to get my Professional Wetland Scientist Certification. This means hoop jumping and writing and applications...and my favorite: Classes. I love science classes and I would take them all day, every day. Sadly, these classes are only about 2 days on average. But I still love them.

I don't love the hefty price tag said classes come with. I didn't really pay for my undergrad and grad degrees, so I kinda got sticker shock when I had to register through a local college of extended learning. Ouch. And my classes are actually cheaper than credit hour classes.

Sooooo....yeah. It was kind of a decision between spending the money on my hobby and emotional outlet, or on my career. I opted for my career this time. Boy, oh boy, do I wish we had the money to do both, but we don't. Isaac needs diapers. And we need a house to live in.

Damn adult decisions. I was way sad (and still am) that I didn't get to go to NYC and meet my bloggy besties and idols. :)

Anyway, two classes were in June and one class is tomorrow and Saturday. This class is all about plants! and is hopefully my last class that I need to apply for my professional in training (still have work experience to do), fingers crossed and knock on wood. I make great friends and professional contacts in these classes, as well as learning and advancing my career.

Tomorrow begins my BlogHer, I guess. Or concludes since I took some classes earlier in the summer.

And now, I have a seperate savings account for BlogHer next year in San Diego, which will be way more affordable for me, unless of course I have done so much professional development that I land a kick @$# job on the East coast and I am in the same boat again.

With that, I leave you another photo of my little Science Geek Boo at the GG Botanical Gardens with the "Squirrel Kitties" that I was terrified he would actually catch because they are so tame and used to people, and get bitten by said and most likely rabid and diseased "squirrel kitty." (Yes, he thought they were kitties, but by the end of the day he was saying "querrrrlllll!")