In Lahman's Terms

The Best Three Years EVER

2012-01-31T16:20:00.000-08:00

Three years ago, my husband and I were blessed beyond belief with our beautiful little boy. Our lives changed forever. We became parents. We have watch him grow from a newborn into an infant into a toddler into this little boy. Isaac hit his third birthday last Thursday. It came out of no where. All of a sudden I had this little man in my house who spoke in complete sentences, sometimes better than my husband, and could walk up the stairs like a big boy. He could open the fridge and get his own juice, put on his own coat and shoes, and work the TV. At bathtime he would wash his own hair.

For three years we have been blessed to be able to watch this little person grow up, to be his parents. We may not always do it right, but we are all so very very very happy.

Words of Wisdom from an 80's Monster Ballad

2012-01-18T09:28:00.000-08:00

"Can you take me high enough to fly me over yesterday? Can you take me high enough? It's never over. Yesterday's just a memory."

Eleven years ago, this week irreparably changed my life forever. Eleven years ago, I learned exactly what a broken heart feels like. Eleven years ago, I lost one of my best friends. Eleven years ago, I learned the ripple effect of suicide all over again. Eleven years ago, I changed.

Every year, I take inventory of how I feel, how my feelings have changed and where I am at. I'm still angry. I'm still hurt. I'm still confused. The pain, the anger, the anguish...they are still there. Some days I can't tell if they have dissipated or if they have just become easier to live with. Have I healed, or have I just adjusted.

Last semester was hard on me for many reasons. It was an introduction back into the academic community as a student. I had to relearn a balancing skill, this time factoring in my family. It isn't just me this time around. Last semester, memories and feelings that I had shelved and dealt with hit me like a sucker punch. Every inch of this campus is haunted. There isn't a safe zone. It's a constant battle.

Late last night, after leaving my friend's house and before going home, I drove to Carter Park. Carter Park where the water tower is located that can be seen for miles approaching Bowling Green. Carter Park where Patrick drove, alone, and took his own life. Carter Park that I have avoided for over a decade.

I sat in my car cried. I couldn't bring myself to pull into that parking spot or to park at all. I stared at the trees that had been there 11 years ago. I took in the desolation and isolation of the area, hearing the quiet and seeing the lights of the freeway, of cars racing by unaware that there is even a park there. The park is larger now, and the surrounding area more developed. There's apartments and condos, and a disc golf course. More playground equipment and updated ball fields. But that parking area, by those trees...it's the same. The dumpsters are still there. The out buildings. The overwhelming and crushing feeling of sadness came over me again, since the last time I was there.

So many questions remain unanswered and will always be that way. Memories have flooded my heart and mind this week, and I just want to move past these dates, this week and ever this semester. One foot in front of the other, one breath in and one breath out.

What a Lazy Day Means

2012-01-16T09:15:00.000-08:00

Today the University is closed for MLK day. That means I don't have daycare or classes or teaching or anything academic related that is obligated. I stayed up late last night gabbing with friends over red wine and some delicious kind of chocolate-y cake magic from Kroger. That means Isaac was due to wake up at 6:30. My husband came in the room to get something, and I rolled over and muttered something unintelligible about it being too damn early to be up on a holiday and to take the baby gate down so Isaac could come get me when he was done with his movie (I use it as a buffer. He lays around and watches a movie until he is ready to get up. It buys me anywhere from 15 to 45 minutes.).

When Isaac finally appeared at my bed, I took one look at him and decided it was a lazy day, which I texted to my husband. A few seconds later, I received the response "Soooo...that mean's you aren't taking a shower or putting on a bra today?"

If I could give him the stink eye over text, I would have.

That, dear husband, is NOT what a lazy day means (but maybe what it implies.)

A lazy day in our house means that Isaac and I eat junk food for breakfast and curl up on the couch until at least 10:30 watching movies. Which we did. It means we are spending the majority of the day in our PJs, playing trains, doing puzzles, and catching up on Pinterest.

It means that we are reading stories, playing with Play Doh, and making cheesy eggs in a dish for brunch.

It means the dishwasher is running but it most likely will not be unloaded.

It means that I consider productivity to be checking the bank balance and emailing our insurance agent enough for the day.

It means instead of reading GIS and making flash cards, I am reading "The Hunger Games" and sipping on my 3rd cup of coffee.

It means that Isaac is using Luna as a pillow and is on his 4th Disney movie (he only watches about 30 minutes of each). It means we have scoured the internet for an appropriate potty prize and printed said prize out to post next to the potty.

It means that we are spending the day relaxing and pretending that tomorrow we don't have to get up early and blow dry our hair, put on make up and jeans and accessorize. It means that we are enjoying the hours we get to spend together before we have to go back to daycare and teaching and listening to people tell us what we should be learning and already know.

It means today, the only thing that matters to me is that Isaac is my baby Boo and we are celebrating our togetherness.

And that I am not taking a shower or putting on a bra.

Yet Another Valid Reason to Not Drink Bath Water

2012-01-12T06:08:00.000-08:00

Isaac's new favorite pastime is to fill his mouth with a liquid (juice, milk, water...whatever) and spit it out like a fountain. Or just spit it out. Not the most wonderful thing for my son to be doing, but very boy like and one of the lesser abrasives. Still, I squashed it pretty quickly.

Or so I thought.

Monitoring his drinking worked well. Taking his drink away when he spit it out worked well. What I did not count on was his performance in the bathtub.

He started filling his rinsing cup with bath water and drinking it. I took the cup away. We are teaching him to wash his own hair, so as he is rinsing his hair, he opens his mouth. What am I supposed to take away there? The best is when he lays in the water and opens his mouth, taking a huge drink.

He was spitting the water out. Now he is not. He's swallowing the dirty, soapy bath water. Again, what do I take away? Bath time? He hates the shower, so sometimes if I am feeling really impatient and cranky, I will threaten to turn on the shower. But in retrospect I don't want to scar him of the shower and make him think that taking one is punishment.

I'm pretty sure Isaac solved the problem for me.

On Monday, my friends came over to watch the BCS national title game (Yep, I'm a football fan.). Isaac had his bath, drinking a fair amount of bubble bath-y dirty water. Sometime in the first quarter he began to complain of a headache. I asked if he wanted medicine and he said no, he just wanted to cuddle. FIRST WARNING SIGN. My son is turning three this month, and he NEVER wants to cuddle for more than 1 minute unless something is up.

And came the vomitting. While cuddled on my lap, Isaac said he was choking. And then proceeded to throw up on my lap. All over me, all over himself, all over the couch. Yuck. I put him on the floor, and wiped up the vomit from my leg so I could stand. As I was standing up, he threw up again. Took a step back, and did it again. 3 MORE TIMES.

I took him in the bathroom, changed him and brought him into the kitchen. While sitting on the bench waiting for his tylenol, since he was still complaining of a headache, he threw up 3 more times. This is the first time he had been sick like this, spitting up as a nursing infant does not count.

Once his tummy was surely empty and he had settled down, I wrapped him in a blanket wearing only his diaper and got to rock him to sleep. That never happens. In a groggy state, I got him into new pjs and into his bed. He slept soundly and woke up feeling fine the next day.

And now he doesn't drink the bath water anymore.

Come On, Get Happy!

2012-01-08T19:01:00.000-08:00

When my cousin and I were young teenagers, we used to babysit our baby cousin on New Year's Eve. We used to watch MTV special and eat junk food util early morning. After midnight, we used to write our resolutions on toilet paper and then flush them down the toilet. I don't remember why we chose to flush them, but it was rather fitting since I can't think of one resolution that I have ever kept for more than a month, if even that. They all ended up in the toilet. I gave up making resolutions years and years ago. Instead of making resoutions I decided to make commitments to make my life happier, however or whatever that would be.

I am a firm believer that only you can change your life and make it what you want it. You choose how you respond to each challenge. I have made major changes in my life in order to create happiness in my life and my families.

When asked how I plan to create happiness for myself in 2012, I was unsure of how to answer. 2011 was a great year for me and my family. We flipped our lives upside down and inside out, moving cross country, back to our home state. Life has treated us well, even though we have had the downs as well. I was slightly sad to see the end of this year, because it was such a happy one, but I am greeting the new year with enthusiasm.

As the New Year is underway, a new semester is beginning tomorrow, and my son's 3rd birthday is looming on the horizon. It's going to be a busy one, without a doubt. There are new opportunities emerging and new challenges to tackle. So to answer the question about creating happiness in the new year, well...I'm going to greet each day with a smile, no matter what. I am going to commit to taking each day, one at a time, and live it to the fullest, setting aside time each day for myself to reflect and to decompress. I tend to stretch myself thin, so taking a step back each day to do something for myself, be it just 15 minutes.

What about you? What are you doing to create happiness in 2012 for yourself? Share your answer in a comment on the Life Well Lived post over at BlogHer.com and enter the KINDLE FIRE sweepstakes as well (A new Kindle Fire sure would help me with the me time, maybe too much. I distract easily!).

Type A

2012-01-05T14:35:00.000-08:00

I have figured out what kind of blogger I am. It took about 3.5 years, but I think I have finally got it.

I am an After-the-Fact Blogger.

I wish I could say that I was a brilliant writer. A funny writer. An inspirational writer. An insightful writer. I would even settle for CONSISTENT writer. But really, I am none of those things.

I think of what I want to write about and then I write the post in my head, usually in the shower (all my brilliant thinking comes to me in the shower.) and won't end up with anything I like until weeks later. Sometimes months. More often than not, they don't ever see a page. Or I think of something great to say about an even that took place months ago. Or I get so busy that months pass and I still haven't hit the publish button. Like my Halloween post? Yeah, where is that? (Although, that could be a poor example since my mother hasn't sent me the pictures yet.)

Regardless, I have deemed myself an After-the-Fact blogger. I don't make resolutions, at least not publicly declared resolutions. But in this new new year, I want to commit to being more consistent. I have had plans for this space for quite some time that I would love to get into play.

Now is as good of a time as any to start, right?

Wordless Wednesday: Dance With Me!

2011-12-28T11:03:00.000-08:00

It's DERLICIOUS!

2011-12-04T08:31:00.000-08:00

When I moved to San Francisco and started my Master's program, I sought stress relief in cooking and baking. To me, it cleared my mind of all other things because I was forced to concentrate specifically on what I was trying to make. I mastered all kinds of recipes from cheesecakes to chicken to appetizers...you name it. After a while, I started to get used to how flavors combined and began to give my own twists to recipes. Countless hours of Food Network helped as well.

One of the things I am most proud of is my stuffing recipe. I have made it every year for about the last 7 years. Not to toot my own horn, but it is pretty much the BEST STUFFING EVER. Seriously, it's amazing. AND SUPER EASY PEASY TO MAKE! Are you ready, cause this will change your life! :)

Sara's Super Simple Awesome Stuffing

You will need:

2 sticks of unsalted butter (see? the best recipes ALWAYS start with butter...Thanks, Paula Dean! )
1 bag of unseasoned bread cubes OR 2 loaves of stale bread (You can leave them on the counter for a day and they are crispy enough)
celery
onion
FRESH parsley
FRESH sage
3 eggs
Turkey broth or Chicken broth
Romano Cheese (the grated kind)
Salt and pepper (I use grinders)

Melt the butter over medium heat. Chop the celery (including the leaves! SOOOOO MUCH FLAVOR!) and onion into small pieces to your liking. Add to pan with melted butter. Cook for about 10 minutes or until the onion is fairly translucent. Beat eggs and add a few tablespoons of water. In a large bowl, toss the bread cubes with the eggs. Add the onion and celery buttery goodness. Chop up a handful or so of parsley. Do the same with about 1/2 the amount of sage. (NOTE: did you know that if you freeze fresh herbs that they last longer and they are WAY easier to chop up? They thaw super fast as you are chopping). Mix in a few handfuls of Romano cheese. Put stuffing into a roasting pan. Add about 3 cups of broth (If it's Thanksgiving or any other day for turkey (which I guess could be like, a Wednesday or Flag Day because every day could be a celebration with turkey) use about 3 basters full of drippings and then add some broth. Salt and pepper to taste. Mix together lightly. Cover the pan with foil and put into a 350 degree oven for about an hour. Every 15 minutes stir it up and check the liquid. Add more drippings or broth as necessary to kept the stuffing moist. For the last 15 minutes, remove the foil completely to get the wonderful crispies on the top.

ENJOY!

Also, you can do stuffing muffins. Coat a muffin tin with cooking spray and then portion the uncooked stuffing into the tin. Cook at same temp for about 20-30 minutes, depending on tin size.

Black Friday Virgin

2011-12-02T21:35:00.000-08:00

Since I have had a week to recover (READ: DRINK) I can now retell how I lost my Black Friday virginity. I suppose I could say I was a newbie, but this is was a violating experience. There is no other appropriate way.

For some unknown reason I decided that I was going to go Black Friday Shopping for the first time this year. Alone. AT WALMART. Oh wait, it gets better...I WANTED LEGO DUPLOS. I had attempted to go to Toys R Us last year in California with a neighbor, but when we got there, the line was wrapped around the entire building, twice. Yeah, not so much. We drove home and I curled up with my laptop and leftover turkey in my pj pants. This year, we have a tight Christmas budget. I wanted to stretch it as far as possible.

I left Isaac with Ben, at his parents' house and drove back to our local Walmart. I had changed into my sneakers and my hair was in a ponytail. I had my GAME FACE ON. It was a little past 8. I got a rock start parking spot close to the doors. I played on my iPhone for a bit, and noticed an increase of people walking into the store. At 8:10. I figured I could go in and walk around, since I needed things that weren't on crazy sales, like dogfood, shampoo...etc.Upon entering the store, I noticed no one was wearing a coat or a purse. Because clearly purses are for sissies. I returned to my car to drop off said items. I BARELY GOT A CART.

I decided to scope out the layout to see where the things that I wanted were located (side note: I had to run to Walmart the night before because we were out of coffee.). All the specials were on pallets, and shrink wrapped with signs saying they weren't available until 10 pm. I wanted to see where my pallets were. Oh, and they were handing out MAPS. MAPS OF PALLETS IN WALMART.

By 8:30 I could barely maneuver down the aisles. There were people camped out EVERYWHERE, waiting for the electronics to go on sale AT MIDNIGHT. The megaminds of the Black Friday sale had at least had the forethought to disperse said electronics and gaming systems throughout the store and not cluster them in their proper department. Apparently people had been waiting for the XBox for like, 7 hours or something. These people must hate turkey. And pie. And in my mind those people do NOT deserve an XBox. That's like anti-American or something.

I fought my way BACK to the toy section where the pallet of Legos was sandwiched between some weird rocking horse things and Disney princess dress up trunks. There were more people there than had been when I first passed the area. I camped out right in front of the pallet, pushing my cart against an aisle shelf. I quickly made friends with another Lego stalker, I mean, shopper. I don't know her name. But I know she wanted one red carton of legos. I wanted the green. It was 8:45.

By 9, my new BFF was like, laying on the Lego pallet. I was guarding the carts. She was hardcore. A beast. The hardcore beast of Legos. I am pretty sure every toy has one.

By 9:30, my phone was ready to die. That was probably the most active I have ever been on Twitter in a short amount of time since my maternity leave (killing time waiting for Legos...killing time waiting for the next feeding...SAME). I had texted all about my new BFF and how I was pretty sure that I wouldn't make it out of Walmart alive. I was one tiny person. I told Ben to tell Isaac that Mommy loved him and TO MAKE SURE HE GOT HIS LEGOS SO I DIDN'T DIE IN VAIN. It's like he didn't take me seriously though, because he didn't respond to that text. WHATEVS.

About 9:45 the banging and thuds started. There were a few screams. There were cops roaming around. And I am pretty sure the Walmart workers were packing some heat or at least bear mace. DAMMIT I WAS DETERMINED TO GET THE LEGOS. I HAD WAITED THIS LONG.

I had also made another friend to told me that it was like Walmart was trying to start riots. Last year, you could put stuff into your cart, you just couldn't check out until after 10pm. FLAW IN THE SYSTEM.

I was edging my way closer to BFF1 because apparently people didn't understand THERE WAS A PECKING ORDER HERE AND NO CUTSIES!

At about 9:55pm the shrink wrap was flying. So were the Legos. I GOT MINE! AND I PASSED A SET TO BFF2 with the help of BFF1.

Somehow I managed to get back to my cart and semi-navigate through the throngs of crazies...I mean shoppers. I managed to get everything on my list but the iPad cover. I wasn't brave enough to try to go through the electronics sections. By the time I made it to the $1.96 movies, there were like 5 left. COME TO REALIZE THESE MOVIES ARE ONLY $5 regularly. NOT WORTH A FINGER OR ARM PEOPLE.

I was out of Walmart by 10:20 with 4 sets of pjs, THE LEGOS!, a play doh set, 3 games, and table and chair set you could write all over and erase or something.

It took about 2 and half hours and 20 years off my life. But I am pretty sure I will go back next year.

MAYBE. Only if there are Legos.

Gobble Gobble

2011-11-27T21:29:00.000-08:00

For the past eight years, I have taken on the task of preparing Thanksgiving dinner for my husband and whomever else needed a place to go. Often it was my BIL, cousins, or friends. I remember that realizing that I couldn't go home for Thanksgiving meant that we truly no longer lived at home and it was time to start making our own memories. And we did.

I remember that first Thanksgiving, how scared I was that I was going to mess it up. I remember scouring the internet for recipes and shopping at the Farmers' Market (Oooooooohhhhh how I miss the CA Farmers' Markets....). I remember calling my future mother in law, asking for her sweet potato recipe. I remember cooking for 2 days straight and then having over some of the best friends I could have ever made in California. After dinner we walked up the street to the top of the hill on Euclid, and looked down at the lights of San Francisco. I couldn't believe that we lived in this beautiful city, or for that matter that we were walking around at night in November without coats on.

I remember preparing a plate of food, pie, and hot drink and putting on the homeless man's cart and bags that lived in the stoop of an abandoned building. I never met him, but I hoped he got the food.

I remember taking an after dinner drive through Sea Cliff and showing a friend where Robin Williams lives. And then seeing Robin Williams standing outside his house. It was one of my only celebrity sightings in California. My husband had more.NOT FAIR.

I remember the 32lb turkey that I had to make to feed the Lahman twins and the Spiess twins.

I remember learning how to make the best after Thanksgiving sandwiches from "Friends" complete with moist maker. DON'T KNOCK IT.

I remember finding my own footing, and not needing recipes anymore. I remember learning to flip the turkey upside down to cook it so all the juices stay in the breasts.

I remember the first Thanksgiving we were a family with Isaac. He loved the green bean casserole and pumpkin pie.

I remember last Thanksgiving, it was the first and last one that we would have just the three of us. It was quiet. It was nice. It was relieving and bittersweet, knowing that the next year I would not need to cook a full meal, merely a side dish or pie.

And that's what I did. This year past weekend was Isaac's first major holiday with his extended family. We were all so happy. We had a great dinner with my family and then a second dinner yesterday with Ben's. We had two amazing meals with our amazing families. We made memories of this, and had time to reflect on the ones we brought from California.

This Thanksgiving we saw what we appreciated and what we are truly thankful for, and that is being back home with our family.

It's a Funny Thing, Time

2011-11-21T19:47:00.001-08:00

The last time I was in graduate school, I was working 30+ hours a week at VS, taking a full class load, teaching 2 lab sections of undergrad intro bio, conducting my research and writing my thesis. I was also planning my wedding that was taking place across the country, and maintaining a home, albeit small. My planner WAS COLOR CODED. I never missed a deadline or paid a bill late. I was caught up on my TV shows, I cooked and cleaned, and I blogged. I also had time to spend with friends. I am pretty sure I was a MACHINE.

This time...well, everything is completely.

I'm teaching. I'm taking a full class load. I'm planning out my dissertation. The academic part is still there.

My priorities have shifted. And I have realized that things that used to be important...they really just aren't anymore. Spending an extra hour on a paper as opposed to doing puzzles with Isaac? Not a hard choice. I still want to do the best I can do. But an A on a quiz just seems so petty next to watching a movie with Boo and tickling him. It boils down to this...I COULD spend extra time on school stuff. I could spend every waking minute possible on campus. I could read into the night.

But at this moment in time, that all seems trivial. There are better uses of my time. I don't care if I am the best anymore. I want to be the best mother, the best wife that I can be. I know I am a good student. I'm a great one. I know how to learn. I know how to study. I know to teach myself what people want me to. This is my 3rd post-secondary degree. I got this. That undergrad and Master's student mind frame has dissipated and only relics remain.

Time has changed me. My time is valuable. My time with Isaac is more precious than any degree could ever be. This PhD...it's already teaching me more about myself than I ever thought it would.

Mom Fail

2011-11-18T14:59:00.000-08:00

Wednesday is my favorite morning of the week. I don't have to be on campus until I teach at 10:30, so I let Isaac sleep in and enjoy his morning. Plus I get to sleep in until 7:30. That's saying something right there.

Anyway, this morning started off wonderfully. I checked my email to discover that my parking citation had been repealed, saving me $25. Isaac woke up happy and ate his breakfast, which he chose: a strawberry poptart. He got willingly into the car, which is saying something. He was on his second poptart when I strapped him into his seat.

We get to his school, and I notice a sign that had not been there when I picked him up on Monday. It was a reminder that Christmas pictures were being taken for the school. IT WAS PHOTO DAY. I looked at Isaac, in his play clothes which were clean and nice, but not my first choice for a photo. He hadn't had a haircut in months, and was looking a bit shaggy AND he had poptart all over his face. I took in the Christmas sleigh and wintery background. SIGH.

The sign said that the photographer had been there since 8 am. It was almost 10, meaning they were getting ready to pack up. I had no time to run home and get new clothes. Isaac looked pretty confused as I frantically wiped poptart from his face and tried to smooth his hair into place. He doesn't go to daycare on Tuesdays, which is when I am guessing they gave notice of the photographer.

I'm not sure if he actually got a photo taken or not. He hates getting his photo taken, and family photos are a nightmare.

I felt guilty. I felt that nagging Mom-guilt. I know it was stupid, and not really my fault, but it was still there. I don't like letting my son down. This semester has been hard on him, and has been full of big adjustments. He's my world and I hate that feeling. :(

Musings from the Week or the Weak...However you prefer to see it.

2011-11-12T14:37:00.000-08:00

As Saturday evening descends on my house, the weekend is really just beginning. Today was the first day of potty training boot camp that I mentioned yesterday. It has been...interesting to say the least. We are 5 pairs of Thomas the Tank Engine undies in, one load of pee soaked laundry down, 2 prize candy bars given....and I can't tell if progress has been made or not.

I have been prepping Isaac for this. We have been talking about his "big boy" underpants and going in the potty all week. He was excited to show Nonnie his undies. However, this morning he woke up with grumpy pants on. I tried to change them. He had peed through his pjs AGAIN, and he hates that. He hates pee in his bed. But...he would not put on his underwear. He screamed for a diaper. SCREAMED. I finally gave in and put a pull up on him. He watched a movie, and after awhile, he seemed in better spirits.

I got the undies on him. We started a puzzle. And then....

"I'M ALL WET!"

Yep, that was the first pair. However, it was more of a Mom, my pants are wet I need you to change me type exclamation. He wasn't really bothered by it. No idea why.

It's been that way all day. I put another pull up on him for naptime. He's been asleep for 2 hours now. He's exhausted. I'm exhausted. All we have been doing all day is changing clothes.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this is too soon. Maybe he isn't as ready as I thought.

Or maybe I am being weak. Maybe I am just trying to hold onto my baby for a bit longer. As much as I hate buying diapers, if it means he's still my little baby for just a few more days...well, you know. That doesn't make sense unless you are a mother who is far away from having another baby.

This week itself has been exhausting. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally.

So many things that I want, that Ben and I want, are so close to our grasp, yet so far away. It seems like there are always challenges. And I am not one to shy from a challenge. I like challenge. But at the same time, I have enough of it. I just want one thing to come easily because I, we, have worked so hard to get through other challenges.

You know, like the prize candy bar you get for finally peeing in the potty.

Boot Camp

2011-11-11T12:44:00.000-08:00

This weekend is Boot Camp at my house. Not the physical kind, cause Lord knows I don't run (unless someone with a machete is chasing me). I am talking about Isaac's Potty Training Boot Camp.

I have heard from multiple mommies that this is the way to go. Isaac is so close, that I am hoping this weekend will cinch it for him.

The undies with Thomas the Tank Engine and Mickey Mouse have been bought. The waterproof crib liners are ready to be put on the furniture. There is a bucket of small prizes sitting by the potty.

Starting tomorrow morning, Isaac will wear underwear all day. Apparently the wet feeling of peeing yourself does the trick and will send him to the bathroom. I am really really REALLY hoping this does it. I am tired of buying diapers. He goes potty at school and at both his grandma's houses. Just not for me. I already have to clean up Luna's bathroom mishaps. I am kind of over changing the diapers too, when I know Isaac knows how to use the potty.

Fingers crossed that by Sunday night I will have a story of victory and not just a house that smells like urine.

To the Extreme

2011-10-19T21:02:00.000-07:00

So...I have a tiny confession to make. I'm kind of an extreme couponer.

Let me give you a little background before you stamp me as a hoarder. Because I really am not. No, seriously. I am not.

It started in California, among the chaos of organizing a massive cross country move...etc. I saw the TLC show. I was intrigued. I'm good a math. I am good at shopping. And the impending price tags on the move and salary cuts we were about to make prompted me to really think this through. My husband was about to take a 60% pay cut and I was essentially doing the same. We were moving to an area where the cost of living is most certainly lower, but so are the salaries. I was saving money like a squirrel hiding acorns for winter.

I started buying the Sunday paper and printing coupons online. The first big trip I planned....I saved over 73%. In CALIFORNIA WITHOUT DOUBLE COUPONS. That was it for me. I was hooked. I had and have no intentions of having 30k stockpiles in my house, but I see no reason that I cannot get my groceries for rock bottom prices or for free. I free. If anyone says they won't take something that is for free, they are a LIAR.

After the move, our food budget was sliced in half. And then sliced again once we actually figured out how much (or how little) money we were going to bringing in for the first year of grad school after a 12k move (yes it was $12,000 by the time all was said and done, most of it paid in cash thank you very much!). I did a few smaller trips, saving about 45-55%. And then I really got into the swing of it.

I get the Sunday paper, and so does my grandma...and so does my mom. They save the coupons for me. And my once skeptical husband who watches me leave the house with $50 and come home with almost $300 in groceries saves inserts from his job for me (they are closed on Sunday but the paper is there on Monday morning when he comes into work).

You know what? It's not hard. Once you clip the coupons for stuff you use and have them saved, all you do is wait for it to go on sale. I am pretty sure (or at least I hope) everyone uses detergent and toilet paper and juice. And you know what? You can get those for free. WITHOUT STEALING.

Examples? 2 weeks ago, my grocery store was having a buy 10 for $10 and get an 11th item free sale. And it was mix and match. They also double coupons. One of the products was Angel Soft bathroom tissue. It was $1. I had a coupon for $0.50 of any size that the store doubles. Actually I had 4. I got 16 free rolls of toilet paper. Also included in the sale were those scalloped potatoes that Isaac loves. I had a coupon for 0.50 off 2, and a store coupon for the same. My coupon (I actually had 3) doubled. So I got 6. 6 boxes of potatoes that normally cost me about $2 a piece, I got for $2.50 total. And that was 10 items. So I got an 11th item for free. It got about 4 groups of products like this.

Another example: Isaac's shampoo was on sale for 3/$5. I had 2 Buy one get one free coupons. So I got 4. And then I had 2 0.50 coupons off 2 that doubled to $1 each. That ended up making 2 shampoos that normally cost $1.98 each about $0.34 each.

I haven't bought 300 candy bars or 600 gatorades. I buy stuff that we use, and the saving allow me to buy healthy things as well. I am able to stretch out our budget as much as possible. I am buy meat in bulk and freeze it in our deep freezer. I have built up a great stockpile that will get us through a few months without buying anything but milk and bread.

I don't just coupon with groceries. I just got a winter coat on sale, from $138.00 marked down to $78. With a 20% off coupon and $20 giftcard, I spent about $40 on the coat when all was said and shipped.

Sooooo...yeah. I'm a couponer. I'm good at it. I am going to keep doing it. Not to hoard, but to balance out our dip in income without sacrificing our eating habits.

(I realize that I have been MIA from the blogosphere for the past month....I am still trying to find my new balance. I am NOT spending every spare second couponing. I have a plan to get back to this space.)

A Relearned Art

2011-09-21T21:06:00.000-07:00

I have always been a good multi-tasker. I have always been able to find balance and have exceptional time management skills in order to accomplish everything. The last time I was in grad school, I was taking classes, teaching classes, doing research, working about 30 hours a week, planning my wedding that would take place across the country, and maintaining a house (or sardine can, since we are talking about San Francisco). My planner was color coordinated with assignments, appointments, bills, due dates, meetings, schedules. I had discovered a whole new array of highlighters and type A OCD.

And let's face it, being a mother requires a high level of multi-tasking ability.

In my last job, I had many roles and responsibilities, all of which were possible simply because I could multi-task like no other. However, somewhere along the way, between deadlines and play dates and emails and phone calls and shopping and cleaning...something went awry.

There have been times when I started one task, like folding laundry. Then Isaac would call me into the other room and somehow, I was cooking dinner, folding laundry, typing an email, talking on the phone, paying bills, and fixing a toy and picture frame at the same time. This is a mild example, It only escalated from there.

I would start 17 tasks at once. Oddly (snort) none of them would get done, and then at the end of the day, I would be in stressed out tears because I hadn't accomplished anything and the next day, I had even more to do.

I moved across the country this summer. I quit my job and started my PhD. I'm taking classes again and teaching again. I'm starting research. All things I have done before.

However, this time I have a husband and toddler and a puppy and two cats. Oh, and I MOVED ACROSS THE COUNTRY.

Multi-tasking has taken on new meaning. Somehow my old methods just aren't cutting it.

I realized this when I was trying to download something off a course website, trying to pay a bill, calling to verify an address had been changed, sending an email, and chatting with a friend on Facebook. I wasn't accomplishing anything. I was having issues among the various tasks. And a fellow grad student was listening to my expletives and trying desperately to follow what I was doing. A few times she commented that she had thought I was still working on one of the other tasks rather than the one I was actually working on.

My stress level has been increasing and it was only the first week of school.

I realized that I had to slow down and retrain myself. I could still multi-task, but I needed to finish things. Now, I don't have time to not get my stuff done. I don't have time to have to redo things or bump tasks until the next day, because the next day is already full. I have decided that going back to school is not going to take more away from Isaac than it needs to. That means I need my weekends. I want to leave as much on campus as I can.

So...I have taken a step back. I am starting one task and seeing it all the way through. If I get interrupted and notice distractions or other things that need to get done, I force myself to finish the first task.

It's working very well. I AM GETTING STUFF DONE.It's taking a bit of time. And a llllllooooootttt of retraining and forcing myself to follow through.

Everybody Hurts

2011-09-07T18:41:00.000-07:00

It's true. Everyone has their own pain, be it quiet or publicly known. And everyone has their own ways of dealing with the pain, some healthy and some not so healthy.

Those near and dear to me know that I have had 2 people very important to me take their own lives, one being my birth father and the other a close friend. Being that this is National Suicide Awareness and Prevention Week, I thought I would share some things.

Suicide never makes sense, at least not to me. I have had low times in my life, but never so low that I would think of acting this way. I can't imagine being in so much pain and anguish that I saw no other way to solve my problems. I know that people who take their own lives are often the victims of mental illness and are not in the "right state of mind" when they commit suicide. My father's suicide, while painful and haunting, made more sense to me than that of my friend. My father had his own issues, including those with anger and alcohol. I wouldn't say that I condone his actions or that it still doesn't sting every single day, but I understand to a certain extent. The signs were there.

With Patrick, it was different.

During my orientation week at graduate school, we attended a seminar called "Flashpoint." It outlined warning signs of potentially violent and harmful behavior. While most people laughed this session off, it struck chords close to home for me. I watched the video, mentally running through the last day, week, even month that Patrick was alive, scrutinizing everything that I could recall, looking for any of those signs. I just can't find any. They just weren't there to the point that unless every single person in his life compared very detailed notes could have had an inkling that he was hurting in that way.

My last conversation with Patrick was over Instant Messanger, the most impersonal form of communication. He told me how miserable he was, because of me. And I missed it. I didn't think it was anything more than a fight, than an "I don't feel how you feel" conversation. I didn't think that it was anything to be considered a sign, because there were no others. I had experienced one suicide and I was about to experience another.

My life was forever impacted by the suicides of my father and Patrick. I am who I am today because of choices that they made. While their pain and suffering is over, mine is still there. The scars are still apparent. And I don't try to hide them.

For a while, I was paranoid. I clung desperately to everyone that I loved thinking that every conversation that I had with them could be the last. Every argument had to be resolved immediately. I couldn't live through something like that again. Then I started pushing away to accomplish the same thing.

And then I ended up here, where I am now, both physically and emotionally. After a very long time I feel happy, content, not paranoid, and full of hope and potential.

So, I guess my point is this. You never know how someone is dealing with their pain. You never know what they are hiding and exactly how much they are showing. It is never a bad time to ask how someone is doing. It is never the wrong time to say that you love and care about someone. NEVER EVER.

This week, like every other type of awareness week is just that. Promoting awareness of something that impacts the lives of the people it touches. It's about letting people know the resources and education. It's about reaching out.

And if anyone you know or even yourself has or is considering taking their life, or if you aren't sure...please reach out. Be aware.

It's Only 8AM and I Feel Like I Should Have Been Drinking for At Least 2 Hours Already...

2011-09-02T20:13:00.000-07:00

I get up at 6AM every morning, regardless of when I actually have to be on campus. This is really the only time that works for our family in terms of showering, etc. I need the time before I wake Isaac up to get ready uninterrupted. I need the time to walk Luna. I need the time to prepare for the day.

And it is not enough time. By far. But I am unwilling to get up any earlier unless absolutely necessary.

By 8AM, sometimes sooner, I am ready to tear out my freshly washed hair, lock myself in the closet with a bottle of wine, and rock back and forth in the fetal position (although that may be counterproductive to the drinking...never really tried it except in my mind).

As you may recall, I recently uprooted and moved across the country, took massive paycuts and started new lives. He got a new job. I started graduate school as a PhD student and TA. Isaac is 2 1/2 and potty training and starting his new life with a new school, new room, and new friends. New everything. That's alot to deal with. To make things more complicated, we got a puppy. Before I say anything more, I will say that I love my life. I am happy. We made the best decisions that we ever could have made. But those decisions came with an elevated stress level that I am still trying to figure out how to deal with and balance.

Let's back up. Isaac has not been sleeping well. This is in part because his crib broke. IT WAS THE ONLY THING THAT BROKE DURING THE 2700+ MILE MOVE. Of all the things packed into that moving truck, I would have rather it been the TV...or my leg. I had already ordered him a toddler bed for when he was ready for it, but had planned on keeping him in his familiar bed until he was adjusted. I could justify buying a new TV. I can't justify buying a new crib for a few weeks or month.

I should have shelled out the cash. In all fairness, people have offered theirs up for us to borrow. But at that point we had been trying to get Isaac into the toddler bed for about 3 weeks and the idea of backtracking was blaring warning sirens and red lights. All signs point to keep working on it.

Sigh.

In addition to him not staying in bed, he now had a 3 hour time difference to get used to. I didn't know that small children had such circadian rhythms that needed a massive overall to adjust to living in a new time zone. Even though we drove and adjusted time over a period of days, he still believed that 12am or later was perfectly suitable for a bedtime, since he was still operating on PST.

If I wasn't up with him, I was up with Luna. God help us if there is a massive thunderstorm. No one is sleeping then.

Anyway, the point of this is that Isaac isn't sleeping well, I am not sleeping well...and waking up is a pain. Isaac wakes up like his father...a grizzly bear coming out of an exorcism. That brightens my day. After I finally convince him to change his diaper and put on clothes, I have to haul him kicking and screaming down stairs. Some days, I get really lucky and get to tell jokes and make funny noise and sing songs to keep the whining and crying a bay. It's short lived though.

You know what's fun before you have had enough caffeine in the morning? Trying to referee a puppy and a toddler. One whom does not seem to understand that when he runs and screams across the house, the puppy thinks he is playing. Luna is a Siberian Husky. She's a puppy, but she's massive. She weighs more than him. And she nips. Try explaining to a Husky puppy that she can't body check and bite my son's arms and legs like she would a puppy brother or sister. No one outside her species thinks that is affectionate. At least not in this house.

Once I can get Isaac set up on the couch with Mickey Mouse and Luna chewing a frozen carrot, my hair has frizzed out and I have to restyle it. Most times I have to change my shirt because it's all sweaty. I have now figured out to just keep my AC on full blast and put on a ratty Tshirt. If my husband comments on the amount of laundry I create in one day, he better think the couch is comfier than our Cal King. Then comes the task of breakfast.

Did I mention Isaac is 2 1/2? The independent age that requires him to do everything for himself and make his own decisions? Oh, sorry. My bad.

He likes to eat his breakfast on the couch 4 days out of 5. Sometimes he will sit at the breakfast nook. Those are blessed days. He carries his food around. He leaves it laying and wanders away....see where I am going with this?

This morning for example, I made him a waffle. I made myself one too. I cut it in half and put it on his plate. I walked him to the couch and gave him the plate. All was quiet.

Now, given his mood, Isaac has the tendency to scream if Luna looks at him wrong. Like, looks at him at all or even walks in front of him. The screaming...oh, the scream. After a few times of checking on pointless screams, I hear him offer Luna his waffle. Like, he put it in her MOUTH. Then he realizes he doesn't have more and Luna won't give it back. So I give him mine and explain that puppies don't eat waffles and Luna has her own breakfast. Back to restyling my frizz.

I then hear a scream that Luna, who now thinks Isaac shares waffles, has taken her half of the new waffle. And now I am forced to put Luna, who really has done nothing wrong, back into her crate only to have her splash water all over so when Isaac runs into the kitchen, he will slip and fall. Meanwhile, since I haven't been able to take her out again, she has gone potty somewhere in the house. I know she has, because I can smell it. The carrots keep her from chewing anything of value...but they don't do wonders for her digestive system some days.

By the time I am able to take Luna for her final walk, I have to keep Isaac distracted because Lord help me, I cannot walk a toddler and a puppy at the same time. And we are running late. When I get back in the house, Isaac has spilled milk that he tried to get out of the fridge all over himself and somehow there are 14 soggy dog bone treats in Luna's cage. The cats have appeared and are demanding food. Isaac is screaming that he doesn't want to see his friends today and that Luna is not allowed to stand near Buddy, the blue bunny.

I stare longing at my stone cold coffee, mentally check my bank balance to ensure adequate Starbucks funds, and can't help but wish that I had a mimosa thermos. These are just my mornings before I get to school. I go a full day with meetings, classes, seminars, research...and then pick up Isaac, make dinner, and finish up what I didn't get done for the day. The house is messy. I am messy.

It's ok that my hair is frizzy because I probably will pull it all out soon.

Luna Lu

2011-08-29T13:38:00.000-07:00

One of the many changes we have gone through since moving is adopting a puppy. She's a Siberian Husky and she will be HUGE mongous. I swear every time she goes behind the sofa and comes back out she is bigger. Her name is Luna. Her full name is Luna Lu Elizabeth Lahman (Remember, I have a disease where I have to name all my animals with full names). We love her.

Well, most times.

I mean, she's a puppy. She cries. She isn't house broken. I have a two and half year old who is potty training.

My husband fell in love with her. I couldn't say no. The agreement was that he would house break the dog and I would potty train our son. Guess how that is going? Guess who is getting up with the dog at 3 am to walk her? And guess what else? Sprinkling carpet deodorizer on white carpet is a BAD idea. My carpet looks gray now. And I have gone over it 3 times.

She pisses me off to no end. She chews things, like my husband's Tumi wallet and our brand new floor lamp. She craps all over. She splashes toilet water all over the house. It's hard to explain to a toddler that if he runs around and screams that Luna thinks he is playing with her and that's why she bites. The cats hate her. Layla has become a basement-bedroom kitty. Guiliani has become rather indifferent and tolerates her unless she gets too close.

But by golly, do we ever love this doggie. :)

Fresh Starts

2011-08-22T16:31:00.000-07:00

Today was my first day as a PhD student. My first day of a new chapter of a new life. I taught 2 lab sections, had my own lab meeting, ran a bunch of errands and let me tell you...I AM BUSHED.

And deliriously happy.

I have been thinking a great deal about what to write about. I feel like I am so behind in blogging...probably because I am. I have excuses, but I don't have any. I just don't know what I want my tone to be anymore. I am funny, but not super funny. I am still writing about Isaac but not like I used to. This blog started as a way for me to communicate with everyone I loved, including my baby, about what was happening so far away. Somewhere in there, it turned into a out let. It turned into a community. I still want that. It just seems like with so many new things happening that I need to have some type of new forum.

So...I am just going to keep writing. Just like I have been. Except actually writing. :)

This will still be the space for me to clear my head, and to think out loud. It will still be the place that I talk about our triumphs as parents and a family and our pitfalls. I will still daydream about our future.

I just need to get back into the swing of a busy happy life.

Settling

2011-07-17T20:26:00.000-07:00

After 9 states, 6 days, and almost 3000 miles, I am happy to report that myself, Isaac, Ben, Layla and Guiliani arrived at our new domicile in Bowling Green, Ohio. OHIO!!!

It's been a crazy week, trying to get settled in, playing my ever favorite game of "Where the EFF did I pack that?!", and setting up a house, not to mention gearing myself up to face my ghosts and enter 4 years of school. So far, so good. The house is shaping up very nicely (I don't think we will buy, another story for another day) and things are getting put away and organized (ahem, THROWN OUT, ahem). We are SETTLING into this new life, one that is so familiar and yet brand new and the same time.

I can't even describe how amazing it feels to be back here. It's so wonderful to be able to plan things with the people we love and not have time constraints. We don't have to cram everything and everyone into one week visits. We are planning our lives in long term. We are surrounded by family and friends, everywhere. The time in California was amazing. I couldn't have asked for better experiences, to meet more amazing and beautiful people, and to be blessed with the opportunities we had. But we are HOME. The time away made us realize how much we do belong here. This is where we need to be at this time in our lives. California is where my soul is, but my heart is here in Ohio. And it always will be. We are not settling for lives we are just okay with, but we have found the place where we want to SETTLE down and put down new roots while embracing ours.

The ghosts...I am working on. This town, the university...they have this lingering stigma. I drive past places, buildings, roads even...and this wave of sadness, anger, and anxiety punches me in the gut. I'm coping. I am prepping myself for the inevitable: walking past the Marine Lab. But that year, that time in my life, it doesn't own me anymore. I remind myself everytime that I CAN DO THIS. I am not afraid. I am still alive, and I won't let my dream die. I won't SETTLE for anything

Hello, Ohio. It's been awhile. But I am so glad you didn't forget my name. :)

Moving Updates

2011-06-18T20:27:00.000-07:00

I am tired. So very tired. Here's why:

I finished up my last day of work last Friday (6/10). I thought I was busy at work. I trained a new person for a few aspects of my position, closed out what projects I could, passed work onto others, etc. I took last weekend off to decompress and gear up for this past week. Isaac and I went to Edition one last time with Aunties K and G (SOB!), ate at Bristol Farms, and walked through Chinatown so I could get more of my plates and buy Isaac toy cable cars.

I spend 2 days online, emailing, on the phone...trying to find a place to live. And I found us a great house that we are renting! It's absolutely perfect for us and it's really close to campus. What's better is we have a lease to buy option, so if we love it as much as I think we will, we will get that in line. Once we get settled, that is. :) Isaac has plenty of space and his own playroom off his bedroom!

I spent the next day getting a lease printed, signed, scanned, emailed and mailed.

I reserved the moving truck. Holy empty bank account, Batman! I got numerous quotes, joined AAA and booked the best deal.

I bought my BIL's ticket to come out and help us move.

I set up utilities and cable at the new house.

I made Dr's appointments for this next week.

I ordered a new keyboard for my laptop.

I ordered Isaac's Cars toddler bed.

I bought an iPad headrest mount for the long journey back east.

I bought another cat carrier, harness, and leash. Yep, that's necessary.

I took 2 cats to the vet to get up to date on their vaccinations, health certificates, and kitty valium.

I set up bank transfers for accounts we have autodeduct from, that don't have branches in Ohio.

I showed our rental here about 200 times. PAIN IN THE REAR. Our landlord is paying us to do it. Otherwise I wouldn't.

I started getting rid of stuff we (READ: I) don't want to move. Making lists of things to sell.

I called daycares to set up appointments for Isaac to come try them out.

I got my VS blood money claim and Medela pump claim filled out and mailed. Locating the receipt for my pump was fun, given the state of my guest room/office.

I mapped out or moving route. Now to call AAA to get my hotels.

Oh yeah, and totally forgot to mail the Father's Day cards I bought 2 weeks ago until Thursday.

I have three to-do lists. I have done returns. I have made purchases. My head hurts.

My logic is that I should drink up my almond champagne because it's one less thing I have to pack and move. I am also cleaning through my cupboards and freezer, which aren't too cluttered after my $10 a week challenge. Nevertheless, we will be having some interesting meals in the next few weeks.

This time next month, I will be a Buckeye again!

How McDonald's Changed My Life

2011-06-11T13:54:00.000-07:00

When I hit the magical driving age, I naturally wanted a car. I shared this dire need with my parents, who said "no, what you want is a job." To have a car, I need money to buy a car. To get that money, I needed a job. I got the drift. After basketball season was over (I was a cheerleader, I had priorities!), my mother advised me to dress up and she would take me to pick up job applications.

I remember what I was wearing: a gray mock turtleneck and a blue plaid skirt. It was all the rage back then. I walked into the first place my mother took me: McDonald's. I approached the counter and asked for an application, which I filled out later that day. I got called for an interview. I got offered a job.

Let's be honest, here. No over really wants their job to be at McDonald's. But they were willing to work around my crazy schedule for my school activities and such. And I wanted to drive. I took the job, not knowing how working under the Golden Arches would change my life forever.

I met Ben a few weeks after I started working. He was a year older than me (and still is, duh) and went to a neighboring high school. We only worked Sundays together. He played baseball, so he was never there during the week when I worked. It was an instant crush for me, and I found myself checking the schedule to see when he worked. I had no idea he was doing the same thing. I would casually cross the parking lot to get ice cream cones after my gymnastics lessons (it was next door). He would show up to get burgers. We flirted on Sundays, until his very last shift before he quit. A few days before, I had let it slip to a coworker that I might like Ben. He passed it along and I am pretty sure to this day he takes credit for our relationship.

At the end of his last shift, Ben came up to me with a SeaWorld coupon that they used to hand out when it was still in Ohio. He asked for my phone number, which I wrote down. He folded the coupon up, stuck it in his wallet, and said he'd call me later. A week later we went on our first date, to Applebees and to see Godzilla, and the rest is history.

That was 13 years ago.

6 years ago today, we were standing at the altar constructed in the Grand Allee gazebo at the botanical gardens vowing forever and surrounded by everyone we loved.

When you know, you know. And we knew way back then, under those Golden Arches. Our relationship has not been smooth, nor perfect. We have been through ugly times. But day in and day out, we love each other more than we ever could have thought we would. No matter what kind of life we have, I can't imagine havign anyone else by my side. He's taken care of me, and of Isaac. He does what ever he needs to do to make sure every dream I have comes true. He knows me better than anyone else.

And he still has the Sea World Coupon folded up in his wallet.

Happy Anniversary to my incredible husband.

Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again

2011-05-29T13:40:00.000-07:00

We aren't leaving on a jet plane, per say, but we are leaving. And soon, which is very bittersweet.

It's been FOREVER since I posted. I have been so completely consumed with one task or another relating to the move.

We have sold two cars, paid off one, and purchased a brand new 2011 Equinox. It's a Mommy car, and I LOVE it. Isaac loves it. He has so much space. This is the car I will be driving across the country in the next month or so.

We (READ: I) have started sorting through things (READ: Piles of crap I have accumulated in the 8 years since we have lived in California) and started to give stuff away, sell things, throw stuff away. Seriously, we moved out here with almost nothing. How did we end up with so much stuff?! I also started packing up vestigial stuff we don't need on a day to day basis. Photo frames, magnets, books, CDs, knick knacks etc.

My replacement started at work. I am trying to get her to a good place before I leave. My last day of work is in two weeks, after which I need to put my packing game face on. I will have about one month to find a place for us to live and pack up.

I closed out bank accounts that there is no need to have anymore. Like the one the bank made us open when we got our car loan. It had $5 in it. My old Mary Kay accounts got closed as did my old SARP from Victoria's Secret. It was just a wierd investment account that wasn't making money or losing money. I was going to get hit with fees if I changed anything in the structure so I just closed it. Can we say "Blood Money"? Because that is what it was.

I have started scouting places to live in Ohio. We still don't have an exact location where my husband will be working but have narrowed it down to 2 or 3 towns where we are looking to live. That's all I want to say about that because it makes my blood pressure rise when I think about it.

I also started looking for daycares. We decided that it makes the most sense for Isaac to attend daycare in the town where my university is, in case he gets sick or whatnot. I hate daycare searches.

I started my last time list in California and SF. Pork Store, Cable Car, Muir Woods, Pier 39, etc. All needs visited one last time.

Which got me thinking about saying goodbye. To friends. And I can't think about that. When we left Ohio, I spent about 4 or 5 days crying all day after saying good bye to one person or another. It sucked. I can't do that again. It was too sad. And I am pretty sure it isn't healthy for Isaac to see. I want him to understand that we are doing something great for us, not sad. I mean, it is sad, but I just don't want him to think that something is horribly wrong when Mommy is crying all the time.

I came to the decision that as I see people, I just won't tell them it's the last time I will see them in a while. I can't do that again. I have a little over a month left and I am going to try to see all my friends at least once more. But that might not be possible. Big Sad Panda. :( There are people out here that it breaks my heart to think about leaving. And we honestly don't know exactly when we will see these people again.

This decision is the best one for us and we are 100% positive of this. We are anxious to get back to family and friends in Ohio. We are excited at what the future holds for us in this next chapter of our lives. I am giddy at the thought of going back to school and back to research. But this next phase, before the move...it's already proving to be a tough one.

Isaac's Room

2011-05-06T14:37:00.000-07:00

This morning I looked out my bathroom window and saw that the fuschia rose bush was in full bloom. Behind that Cala lillies were blooming all over the yard, interwoven with California poppies and some unidentified purple flowers that Isaac picks. I don't pick the roses, only because I love smelling them in the morning when the window is open and I am getting ready for the day. This morning I realized that this would be the last season for me to do this and it gave me a twinge of sadness. This has been happening every now and then. Like when Isaac sits on his changing table and talks to me about the big apple tree outside his window. Or he sits on "his" rock and asks us to sit on the bigger one next to him.

I am sad to leave this house. Not because I love the house, because I DO NOT. It's a crazy Dr. Suess house that is full of earthquake hazards and issues. It never would have been a house we would have considered to buy, but has served it's purpose as a rental. I am sad to leave it because it is the first home Isaac has known. I know he won't remember living here. He probably won't remember the flowers, trees, rocks, or anything about it. But it was the house that I worked so hard to make a home to bring our new baby into.

Isaac's room is my favorite room in the entire house. Sometimes I just go in there and lay on his floor when he is in another room. I love his room. I don't really know why. I worked pretty hard to make it the way I wanted it, I guess. I am sad that he is leaving this room.

When I started thinking about what I wanted my baby's room to look like, I had a hard tiem settling on a theme. I am that type of person that if I chose one particular theme, like jungle animals or sports, the entire room woudl have to be that way and stay that way. I am just that Type A. I didn't want to do that. Ben and I decided on focusing on primary colors.

This is his wall of dogs. He loves dogs. I took some photos of dogs we know and had his fabulous photographer godmother send him some of all hers as well. I bought plain mats from Walmart for $2 and a pet stencil. White ribbon is hanging them to the wall. He also has a stackable dresser, meaning that each drawer section is a separate piece. VERY helpful when moving, because we just tie the drawers shut.

I was told by many a person that these type of storage shelves are better for kids toys. They stay organized (in theory) and the child can see the toys without having to rifle through a huge box. Plus there's the whole not being able to slam his fingers in the lid thing. Since Isaac has always loved all things that GO!, I found this roadway rug at Ikea for like $10. The little cloth drawes beneath the bench hold smaller items and figures.

That's my little Peanut in the frame that I made while on maternity leave. We will look at after our bath, and now Isaac tells me "That's baby Isaac. He's cute!" and it makes my uterus ache.

All these characters need somethign to hold at night. Isaac likes alot of things in his crib, like his cup of milk, he's Mickey Mouse light chaser, and more often than not he wants one or more racecars or trucks in the bed.

I think this Ohio State rocker is his Daddy's favorite thing in his room. He just started sitting in it to look at his books.

When we get a house in Ohio, I know I can make his room even better. I can PAINT for one thing. I just have a special attachment to this room. Nearly everything in the room was chosen specifically for my boo. It the first and only home he has every known, that we have known as a family. I hate the house. But I sure do love the home.

The Dirrty Thirty

2011-05-04T11:53:00.000-07:00

I turned 30 on Sunday. 3-0. And I was really excited for this birthday. No freaking out, and no crisis needed averted. I am really really REALLY happy with where my life is and where it is going. And I was even happier about where I was going to be spending this milestone birthday. NYC!

My wonderful, amazing friends helped me to plan a fantastic weekend to celebrate my birthday. It was absolutely PERFECT and I would not have changed a moment (except maybe Rob Thomas could have made an appearance in there somewhere...like at Starbucks. Or a bar. Or anywhere).

Karen, Gail, and I left on Friday, and flew out of the brand new terminal at SFO. The flights were easy and filled with Royal Wedding coverage, SATC reruns, and inflight cocktails.Although our cabbie was steroetypical NYC with his lack of deoderant and crazy Nascar manuevers, we made it to our Midtown hotel just in time for another ddrink with the fabulous Kelly, who had made the trek on THE CHINA BUS from her home. Afterward, our stomaches sent us in search of nourishment which we found in the form of pizza, cookies, and prosecco. We also discovered that you can buy perfume that is the scent of a funerla home and dirt. Not together. But those are the actual names of the fragrances.

On Saturday we ate delicous pizza from Patsy's Pizza.

Then we ventured into the park to cross off one of my NYC bucket list items: rowing boats around the lake in Central Park. Kelly, the rockstar rower, easily navigated us around. Other tourists were not so adept and let's just say that my sweater smelled like dirty lake water for the rest of the day. It was a gorgeous day, with the sun shining and the smell of blossoms lingering all over the park, which we got to enjoy after our trip around the lake.

One of the highlights from the entire weekend was that I got to have my first blogger meetup! My blogging bestie Made a trip into the City and met up with us in the park. It was amzing to finally meet her, especially since I feel like I have known her for well over 2 years. Together, we all went to Dylan's Candy Store, where I purchased some treats for Isaac, and one deliciously chocolate one for myself. All homes should have a chocolate fountain as a standard kitchen fixture, don't you think?

After that, we headed into Serendipity to cross another item off my list: The marvelous frozen hot chocolate, which I split with Gail.

To work off our sugar intake, we headed back to the park for a carriage ride.

For dinner we met up with my cousin Bethany and her boyfriend for a fabulous Italian dinner. Afterward, we headed to a piano bar called The Rum House for birthday drinks in Times Square. The beverages were awesome. The crazy Canadian man there for a stag party who kept volunteering to remove his pants was not, prompting us to leave after two drinks. We meandered around the square for a bit and ate street vendor hot dogs. I know the stigma they carry, but seriously...oh so very good.

Sunday morning, we awoke bright and early for some serious Canal Street shopping, which we indulged ourselves in for a few hours until we had to return for lunch and to dress for the theatre. We got all dolled up for "The Lion King" which was absolutely amazing. There is no way to accurately describe the show.

Afterward, we headed to the Plaza hotel for pre-dinner cocktails (another list item). We all partook in the delicious specialty drink, the "Bradshaw" inspired by the SATC star. Although it was a $22 cocktail, it was worth every single penny. Talk about mixed perfection!

We walked back up the park to our dinner reservation at TBar Steakhouse, where we had a wonderful dinner. Afterward we headed back to Serendipity for a celebratory dessert...or three.

Monday morning, after a small yet still startling accidently detour through Harlem, we got breakfast at Alice's Teacup, which fit Karen to a T! Wonderful food, yet again. Is it possible to get bad food in New York?!

Our last stop on this incredible trip was to the New York Public Library, where we saw where the SATC wedding never took place, and the original toys that inspired the "Winnie the Pooh" stories. The library was beautiful.

The trip home was spent sleeping and updating ourselves on the new wordly happenings as we were in our own little NYC birthday bubble for theweekend. I could not have asked for a better birthday. I missed my baby boo and my husband of course, but I needed to get away. I needed a breather and a chance to refresh and recharge, which is exactly what I got to do. I was happy to be home with my husband and little Boo.

Although I am not exactly where I pictured myself to be when I thought about my life at 30, I am someplace better. My friends and family all over the country made my birthday so special and created so many memories for me to carry into this next stage of my life. I am so blessed with beautiful and loving people in my life.

Isaac's Egg-cellant Easter

2011-04-28T12:27:00.000-07:00

Isaac really got into Easter this year! We started celebrating by coloring eggs, which he totally rocked. I put a smock on him, but that was soon abandoned. He thought the best way to create colorfullness was to keep dipping the eggs in multiple colors. Every egg was dyed after about 5 minutes. I cut him off after they turned brown. And his hands were sufficiently dyed green. A few eggs cracked because he thought it best to drop the egg into the dye cup from a considerable distance. Thankfully, the garbage took most of the splatter and only a bit got onto the carpet and onto Isaac's clothes.

On Easter, we did 4, count em 4, egg hunts, 2 inside and 2 out. Ben and I hid all the eggs. He loved it. So much in fact, that he had to hold all the eggs he found at once. Baskets are for Pansies!

Once he figured that I would follow him with the basket, he liked it more. We hid the same 14 eggs over and over. The next morning, and the next...and next...the first thing he said when he woke up was "Find eggs?!" Sigh.

We haven't decided if we are going with the whole Easter Bunny idea yet. Right now, he is too little to understand anything more than finding eggs.

We had a great day. The days when the my husband's stores are closed are a blessing in themselves. It means for those 3 days every year, his phone stays silent, and his blood pressure stays low. For the most part anyway...Isaac creates his own blood pressure spikes in us. :) We get to spend the day just as a family. And we get to enjoy it. :)

Wordless Wednesday

2011-04-20T09:16:00.000-07:00

My Son

2011-04-15T15:31:00.000-07:00

My son says "Kitty! Be-HAVE" to our cats when they are wrestling or annoying me. He tells them to "Get Down!" when they jump up on the counter or on the couch in his spot.

My son tells me that the bath water BE hot when I put him in the tub. "Mama, it be hot!" "No, honey. It IS hot. And it's not hot. It's fine." "No, Mama! It BEEEEEE hot!"

My son is obsessed with the movie "Cars" so much so that it plays about 4 times a day in our house. He quotes it. And when we are driving he asks me if that truck is "Mack" and where the "Ghostlight" is.

My son loves semi trucks and buses. One of his favorite things to do is to drive around and look for them. He exclaims "OOOHHHH BIG TRUCK! Another big truck! Where's another big truck! Here it comes!" Driving on 101 is like a dream come true for him.

My son loves to swing and yells "WEEEEEEEEE!!!!" the entire time. He loves to do underdogs and laughs hysterically. He loves to feed the ducks and when we run out of bread or crackers, he throws them flowers or grass.

My son has a flower in our yard. It's a Calla Lily that is as big as his head. He takes everyone to see it and tells them how it is his flower.

My son likes to search for pinecones. He collects them and we have a whole pile in our yard...and in our house.

My son likes to ask for things and then make you think it was your idea to give it to him in the first place. He's like a conversational WIZARD.

My son runs like Phoebe does on "Friends." It's so funny to watch.

My son likes to feed the cats every night. He knows the routine and starts it on his own. Sometimes it isn't even at night, but random times during the day when he decides it's time for them to eat.

My son makes up jokes. His famous one is "bye! A-B-C ya!" We have absolutely no idea where they come from, but he totally made that one up on his own.

My son likes to make make funny faces. He rolls his eyes to one side sticks out his tongue. He squishes his cheeks together. He will do anything to get a laugh.

My son loves to make animal noises. He loves animals. His favorite is the cow right now. He loves looking for cows when we drive to the store. He even mimics an elephant trunk when he makes the elephant noise.

My son loves to brush his teeth. He asks to do it about 4 times a day.

My son is fiercely independent. He likes to do things for himself, like pour his own milk or put toothpaste on his toothbrush, even if he just "thinks" he's doing it for himself, meaning I am actually doing it and tricking him. Some things he does on his own, like put on his shoes or wipe his hands.

My son apologizes every time he spills something or drops something. He also apologizes when his shoe falls off. "I sowwy, Mama." He even apologizes for things he didn't do.

My son looks behind the computer screen and under the table when we are Skyping to see if he can find the person.

My son loves to jump on the bed. He asks to do it all the time. And he likes us to push him down into all the pillows.

My son has the best belly laugh EVER. It never fails to make me laugh too. He does it when you blow raspberries on his tummy, or when Guiliani plays on the bed with him.

My son gives the warmest hugs. He always asks why you are sad or what's wrong. And then asks if you need a kiss. Mommy always needs a kiss.

My son looks so much like his Daddy some days. He will jut his chin out when he is concentrating and it's like looking at a mini-Ben. And others he makes a face that is a mirror image of one I make (see below...that's a Mommy face).

My son is my world. He lights up evey single day and I wonder how I ever got through life without him. I love my little Boo.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-04-13T09:08:00.000-07:00

30 Days of Truth: Day 8 - Someone Who Has Made Your Life Hell

2011-04-08T17:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Patrick,

It's been over ten years since I have heard your voice, your laugh. It's been over ten years since I have seen your face or hugged you. It's been over ten years since you decided to take your own life. It's been over ten years since you broke me.

I can't imagine the pain you must have been in when you made your decision. I know that a great deal, if not all of that pain was caused by decisions that I made. I can't imagine being in so much pain that I feel the only way to heal myself is to pass the pain on to everyone that I love. I have been sorry every single day since then that I had any part at all in that pain that you felt, especially if it was a fraction of the pain that I have felt since then.

You broke me, and you broke me into about a million pieces. I became a different person and I lost who I was. I gave up. I lost focus. I lost my drive. I lost ME. I gave up what I was working toward, because I was broken. I gave up because I just wanted to feel better. I didn't want to feel broken anymore. You broke me and I ran away. I ran as far as I could get from the pain, from all the reminders.

You made me hurt other people. Your pain was like a ripple effect. I hurt and I didn't want to. The things I did to make myself heal, to make myself feel better hurt other people. It's very hard to get over something, feelings...when you don't even know what was there in the first place. How do you move past an unknown? You picked me up and threw me into this strange place and I had no idea how to even start finding my way out. I was hollow. I didn't feel anything. I didn't want anything. I didn't need anything.

You tore my life apart. I have spent the past 10 years trying to put it back together. And I have. I have done it well. I have gotten back to a place where I am happy. I like who I am. I like who I can be. I have a beautiful life and amazing opportunities ahead of me. People remember who I was, who I can be. They know who I am now. They don't see the broken person anymore.

There are things I can't get back. I can't get back who I was before you. I can't say that I would want to. You had a part in shaping my life into what it is now. A big part. Was that what you wanted? Because you know, either way you would have accomplished that. You should have known me well enough to know that you were in my life one way or another, for good.

I'm going back. I'm going back to where I was when you broke me. And I am scared as all hell. I have anxiety over it. My pulse races and I feel light headed. I feel alone again. I feel lost again. I feel like I am certifiably insane for this. But I want this. I WANT THIS SO MUCH. I won't let you have control over my life anymore. I won't let you take it from me again. I don't know what will happen when I walk those halls again, when I see all the memories right in front of me. But I am prepared for the emotion . I am prepared to feel the hurt and sadness. I am ready to face it head on, because this is who I am. It's who I have always been. It's who I am meant to be. You can't have that anymore. Maybe I feel like I have something to prove. And I do. I have something to prove to myself. I can do. I will do this. And I will rock it.

You know, I wrote you one other letter. I wrote about how much I would miss you. I wrote about how much you meant to me, whether it was what you wanted or not. You still meant something. You still mean something. I wrote about how sorry I felt for hurting you and prayed that you had the peace you were searching for. I folded the tear stained paper and put it in your pocket, where it still sits, folded and unread.

I wish every single day that I could somehow change what happened with you. I wish I could understand and I know that I never will. I wish that you can see me, can hear me, and still know me. I wish that you can see that I am happy and I am living my life the way it was meant to be lived. I am living. I wish that you can see that I am not hollow; I am full.

I wish that you can see that I am not broken; I am whole. And although a little piece of me is held by you, it is still my piece. I live with it.

I am not broken anymore, Patrick. But I still miss you.

Love,
Me

I tried...But I'm Not...I'm Angry.

2011-04-07T11:41:00.000-07:00

Today I am angry. I am angry at quite a few things.

I am angry at my daycare. Last thursday I got a call to pick up Isaac because he had thrown up. I kept him home until yesterday. I babied him. He was scheduled to go to daycare on Tuesday. On Monday, Ben and I had a long conversation about whether or not to send him, and ultimately decided to keep him home one more day to ensure his health. He had a great day on Tuesday, and hardly had a runny nose at all. I dropped him off yesterday and got a message a little after lunch that Isaac was sick and had a bad runny green nose. FANTASTIC. I called the doctor and made him an appointment for later that day. I picked him up.

The main daycare lady told me she had pneumonia since last week. And didn't tell me. She didn't tell me that she had this sickness after she sent my child home TWICE. She didn't tell me so maybe I would have thought his symptoms might have been a little more severe. She didn't tell me the entire time I was communicating with her about whether or not Isaac was attending on Tuesday. So I am angry about that.

Isaac has an ear infection. A pretty bad one that is causing the green runny nose. His lungs were clear and he didn't have a fever. The Dr. said he wasn't contagious. I planned to keep him home, he'd been through alot. I was told to watch for pneumonia, and he got a prescription for antibiotics. I let the daycare know, so they coudl let other parents know Isaac wasn't contagious. I received a message back that said many things that stung about how Isaac had a horrible day, woke kids up from nap, couldn't play, and had received comments about his nose from other parents. I am not sure what the intention of this message was, whether it was frantically trying to convince me that Isaac couldnt' come to daycare today or what. It rubbed me the wrong way. I was angry about that.

Most of all, I am angry at myself. Isaac has been saying "owie" for days. I assumed it was his molars. He has been putting his hands in his mouth and biting on things. He has been putting fruit snacks in the back of his mouth and chomping. He hasn't been sleeping well. He hasn't been eating a whole lot. He wasn't pulling on his ears or telling me that they hurt him. But still, I am mad at myself for dismissing his pain as teething pain, allergies, and a cold. I am angry at myself for not realizing the source of my child's pain. I am angry for being so frustrated with his fussiness the past week, when it could have been an ear infection the whole time causing it. I am angry at myself for yelling at him.

I am angry for many reasons. The anger is festering and spreading throughout other aspects of my life. I'm lashing out at people. I'm highly irritable. I'm trying to curb it, but I'm exhausted...mentally, physically, and emotionally. I'm so so tired that it's just easier to keep being angry. I don't want to be, but I am.

I'm just angry today. :(

Fear

2011-04-04T15:03:00.000-07:00

It's April. APRIL. We are moving in July. That's like 3 months. 3 MONTHS.Yeah, I am kinda freaking out. But...not really about the moving. I know it will get done. It has to get done, and I flourish under pressure. Oddly, I am not worried about money, or moving, or finding a place to live. I'm relatively unconcerned with whether or not my husband is moving with a job. We both agree that if we can survive in San Francisco, we will be ok almost anywhere. I have moved across the country with nothing and we have been fine. This time we are older, wiser, and more prepared. I am not freaking out because of the move.

I am freaking out because I am going back THERE.

Don't get me wrong, I want to go back. I want my PhD. I am in love with science.

BUT...As the months fly by, and time to actually go back to BG draws closer and closer...I'm not going to lie. I am pretty much terrified.

I'm a scientist. And a darn good one at that. I am a great student and I have no doubt in my research and academic abilities. I can handle the pressure and the heat. What I don't know if I can handle is the ghosts. Those hallways, that campus. It's haunted. For me, it's haunted. I was broken on that campus.

I ran. I ran as far away as I could get. Opportunities presented and I took them. I am not ashamed of that. I believe that when decisions are right, they work out all on their own. And they did, for me, for us. Very well, in fact. I did what I needed to do. I got through each day, and here I am. I ran, and I readily admit that.

I have dealt with the ghosts as well as I can. But they still haunt me. I have no idea how I will handle being back there. Sometimes when I think about it, I can feel my hands get all sweaty and clammy. I can feel my pulse pick up. Sometimes, I think it borders on a panic attack. I don't call anyone. I don't talk about it. I don't know what to say. It feels like beating a dead horse. Other people, they don't get it. They can't understand, and I don't expect them to. Seeing that water tower still hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. Maybe that won't change.

I'm scared. I know I can do it. But holy moly, I am really scared.

I can do this. And I can do it well. It's time. It is long overdue and it's time. I want this. I am ready for this. I am not broken. But I am haunted.

Isaac Potter

2011-03-24T15:56:00.000-07:00

My son has magical powers.

Yep, you read that right. Isaac is magic.

Ok, maybe not like, abra-cadabra-hocus-pocus-bibbity-bobbity-boo magic. But he has these powers that no one else has. NO ONE.

Today was a bad day. Just all around. And no, I don't want to talk to about, with anyone.

All I can think about doing is going home, making popcorn and curling up in a big blanket with my little Boo and watching Disney movies.

You see, Isaac...he has this way of magically making me feel better. No matter what. Even if it's HIM that makes me feel not so good. He knows. He knows things. He's a little wizard at reading his mommy.

He knows when I need kisses. He knows when I need a hug. He knows when I need to laugh. He knows when to be silly. He knows when I need distracted. He knows when I need to regroup or refocus. He just KNOWS. And sometimes he just does it without even knowing he is doing it. Like when an obnoxious phone call comes in (read: solicitor or telemarketer) and I make the mistake of answering it (I can't just hang up...I just CAN'T), he knows that he needs to fall down and/or make a loud crash so I can say "OH MY GOD I HAVE TO GO RIGHT NOW BECAUSE MY BABY JUST DID SOMETHING REALLY BAD AND I HAVE TO CHECK ON HIM RIGHT NOW AND MAYBE CALL THE PARAMEDICS OR SOMETHING SO GOODBYE."

He just....KNOWS.

I don't rely on his magical powers. But I sure do appreciate them.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-03-23T14:17:00.000-07:00

Age Is Just A Number

2011-03-23T13:32:00.000-07:00

Isaac is about 26 months old. I just had to look at the calendar to figure out the month math, because I stopped at 24 months. Lord help me once the fall rolls around and we hit the 30's months.

Anyway, this means a couple things. The most important one being...although I still call him my baby, he's a little boy now. He's a little boy with opinions and a fierce independent streak. Who's two years old. And cutting his back molars.

I refuse to call it the terrible two's. I am choosing to call it the "not so terrific two's" and hope for the best. I was told the pediatrician that there are 2 main components in this phase that attribute to the um...not so terrifc-ness: the inability to effectively communicate wants and needs in an understandable manner and the desire to test their boundaries and limits.

And OH BOY IS IT BECOMING NOT SO TERRIFIC.

I put my high-spirited little guy to bed on Saturday night completely exhausted after our excursion into SF to see friend D and his new puppy Emma, who Isaac calls "En-e-ma." He didn't nap but for 45 minutes. I was exhausted as well. It was an early night for both of us, and I went to bed eager and excited for our day together on Sunday, just me and him.

I can't tell you who woke up in that crib on Sunday morning. It was like a different child.

And since then, we have had screaming fits. Tantrums. Hair pulling (this is mine...I have literally buried my hands in my hair and pulled). Crying (both of us). Red faces. Throwing of things. Confiscation of toys.

Its been a long few days. And I am so happy to be at work, just to have escaped for a blissfull 8 hours.

Sunday was rough. Sunday night was rougher. Isaac didn't nap, but he did go into his crib and played happily for about 2.5 hours. By 8 pm, I was ready to trade him in. Seriously. By the time he went to bed, the house was a wreck. Dinner was cold. There were noodles and goldfish crackers smashed into the sofa cushions. The cats were cowering in fear (I might have shown Isaac how Guiliani likes to play kitty-copter. Which he does, just not with Isaac...I WAS DESPERATE PEOPLE!). I was exhausted, frustrated, and overwhelmed, so I did what any wife and mother would do. I yelled at my husband and was a complete and total a-hole to him. Then I shut myself in the bedroom and screamed into my pillow.

This morning...oh the horror.

I woke up Isaac for school. And like every other morning, he asked for his trucks. I gave him his two favorites and like every other morning, we put them on his breakfast table. Unlike every other morning, he decided he did not want to eat breakfast or get dressed. He just wanted to play trucks. Sigh. I took the trucks away, turned them off and put them back on the table. 2 seconds later, guess what I heard? After 10 minutes of progressively louder and louder requests, finally, I took them away.

And when I say took them away, I guess I mean I ripped his arms off and beat him with them. Because that is sure what it sounded like.

He laid on the floor and screamed and cried for 20 minutes. When he finally stopped and nibbled some toast, it was time to go. By the time we left for school, his hair was disheveled, eyes were red, nose was running, and he was hungry. And exhausted. Both of us were after our mini-war. I was ready for stiff drink by 8 am.

I know it will get worse before it gets better. I know it will get better. I know every parent goes through this. And he still has his moments, where he sees me visably upset and comes over and says "Mama, what's wrong? What happened? Need a kiss?" and curls up in my lap and cuddles.

He's still my baby...and age is just a number.

I just may need to restock the liquor cabinet more frequently and buy more hats to hide the fact that I am yanking my hair out.

The New Favorite

2011-03-21T14:15:00.000-07:00

Meet Chuck. Chuck is Isaac's favorite toy. And he's MY least favorite toy. Let me explain...

Way back when in October, Isaac got to meet some of his Grandpa's family, who brought him a little green dump truck of the same kind. You push the license plate and this toy rolls and climbs up a ramp. We kept his house at my MILs while in Ohio, and by the time we left to come back to California, it was "broke."

I say this because I was unaware of this toy's true ability to drive me insane at the time.

Closer to his 2nd birthday, my grandma sent him a giftcard. While shopping at the store, we saw a display of clearance toys and behold...a play yard set with Chuck! For only $9.99. Isaac was very happy, and as patient as one can expect a 2 year old to be while assembling said structure. It involved a ramp and some track and a bridge thing. In the instructions, I noticed that these vehicles do in fact take batteries, and most likely Isaac had not "broke" the green truck. 2 fresh AA batteries later, the green truck was ready to use on the yard. Boy, oh boy, was Isaac a happy camper.

We took Isaac to TRU a few days later to pick a toy for his birthday. He quickly noticed a a fire truck of the same line. The truck was on clearance, so I bought it for him. He was very excited. If you are keeping track, Isaac now has 3 of these vehicles.

A short time after that the Chuck truck broke. Like really broke. It would barely roll, let alone climb like it was supposed to. So...I returned it. And I got a new one. When I did, I bought the 4th truck, a blue tow truck.

Isaac loves the trucks. He plays with them. He plays with them ALL THE TIME. This means a few things.

First, I have to have a large stock of AA batteries on hand, because GOD FORBID, one of the trucks doesn't work! And they drain batteries FAST. I am almost considering buying enough rechargeable ones. Until then, I suggest buying stock in Duracell.

Second....3 of the trucks don't work. I mean, they don't climb anymore. And I figured out why. Isaac lets them roll into the wall or to the carpet or furniture. They are turned on so the gears are rolling and they can't climb and something...breaks. I don't know, I am not a toy mechanic :) He gets kind of upset that they don't function properly, so he "helps" them along the ramps. And that's loud too.

Third, can't you see where these annoyances are heading?! HE IS OBSESSED WITH THE TRUCKS! They are noisy. And the break. They are the first thing he asks for every morning. He wants them to go EVERYWHERE with us (which they don't...I need a break from the noise). The positive side is that these trucks keep him occupied for hours on end. Literally. HOURS. And he doesn't really understand why they can't roll through puddles. Or take a bath with him. They also eat with him.

The other night, he wanted to take one of them to sleep with him. He cried when I took it away before bed. Usually, they sit ontop of his dresser, because he is this close to climbing out of the crib and when he does, I do not want to awake to that sound of the trucks. And I don't want him to think that bedtime is playtime. I gave in, and he promised to leave it sitting by the stuffed Goofy. I made it clear that if I heard the truck, I would come into his room and take it away. I layed down and about 10 minutes later, I heard the motor switch on and quickly off again. Sigh. I got up and went into his room. As soon as I walked in, he said "Mama, no!" I looked into his crib and he was hugging the truck like he normally does his stuffed animals. It melted me, and I let him keep it.

Well, now all 4 trucks must be in his crib for him to sleep. ALL 4. Plus his Mickey light from Disneyland. Plus his cup. Every Disney animal he has now has a designated object to hold. And my nightly check-in takes longer as I have a million things to remove.

For Easter, he is getting another stunt set, featuring the blue tow truck...which is one that is broken. It was on clearance online, and I MIGHT have just ordered the other 2 that are broken....that means he will have um, 7. 7!!!!!

I can't help it, I am a sucker for that little boy's happiness and smiles! Even at the cost of my sanity... ;)

Wordless Wednesday

2011-03-16T14:16:00.000-07:00

Pieces

2011-03-15T18:21:00.000-07:00

I have made difficult decisions, big decisions. They never really seemed that way, because they were easy to make. I knew they were right. Things just kind of worked out and fell into place. It made the decisions seem not so big, not so scary.

The move back to Ohio is proving to be no different. It's a huge deal, and more often than not I find myself stressing. Its a big move, a big change, a big expense (to say the least).

Then something happens that reinforces to me that this is the right move for all parties involved.

Today my assistantship offer came in from the university. It is more than I could have ever dreamed it would be, and will make the transition easier and smoother.

It seems as though that when the decision is right, when it puts you on the path that you are meant to be on, the pieces just line up. The hard things aren't hard anymore. The scary things seem foolish.

Have I mentioned how incredibly happy this decision makes our family? Because it truly does. Life will change for us, but it is going to get better. This move, it's huge. But the hard decision, not matter how it seems to others...for us, it was easy. And although the details aren't hammered out, the pieces are landing just how they are meant to fit.

First Time for Everything

2011-03-11T09:26:00.000-08:00

For our Disneyland trip we did something we have never done before.

WE PAID FOR THE ENTIRE TRIP IN CASH!

We had decided to take this trip about May of last year. I started saving $25 a week. We originally planned to take this trip over Christmas as we were not able to go back to the Midwest. That fell through and Isaac got Disney money for Christmas. Our next timeframe was for his birthday, which also fell through. Next up was President's Day weekend, which I nixed due to hotel costs. When we finally went this last weekend, we had 2 extra months of savings and gifts.

Our hotel and parkhopper tickets were prepaid before we left. I knew exactly how much cash we had to spend and loaded it onto a debit card, just for Disney.

My Disney freak and awesome friend D taught me how to share parkhopper tickets. We cut the cost of our tickets by $140.

When we got to Anaheim, my husband surprised me by pulling out a fat wad of cash that he had been saving as well. I almost cried. We took drinks into the park, so we avoided the $3+ sodas and bottled waters. We took fruit and snacks, again avoiding the great park surchages on food. We cut costs where we could, and it worked really well for us.

Because we planned and saved, we didn't worry about money ONCE the entire weekend. We paid for everything on the preloaded card and in cash. And we even came home with some!

This is the very first trip we have taken that didn't accrue credit card debt. :) I am so proud of us!

Magic

2011-03-10T13:00:00.000-08:00

This past weekend, we took Isaac on a very special vacation. We took him to Disneyland for 2 days, which we have been trying to do for MANY months. This was such a special trip for us, for so many reasons. I have been trying figure out how I want to write about this trip, how I want to detail and describe it.

We left last Friday and drove to Anaheim. I was worried that Isaac wouldn't handle these drives very well, being in the car for 8+ hours. He handled both trips like a rock star and was fascinated by the amount of semi trucks he could exclaim over. For about 2 hours solid, while driving through almond orchards in middle California, all we heard was "There it goes! Big truck! Honk Honk! Big truck!" He napped briefly, and only really got restless during the LA rush hour traffic we hit. All in all, he did very well, and seemed to understand that he could not get out and that we were going somewhere special. We took more stopping breaks for Ben than we did for Isaac. :)

Once we got settled into our hotel we took Isaac over to the Downtown Disney area to watch the fireworks. We purchased his autograph book for the upcoming two days. You could see the excitement on his face as he saw Mickey Mouse plastered everywhere. He still had no idea.

The two days we spent in the park were absolutely AMAZING. I can't even begin to detail the fun that all three of us had. It was just us, with cell phones that died by 2 pm, not worrying about schedules or money. We rode the rides, met the characters, and filled ourselves with junk food. We treated our little boy to 2 days immersed with his favorite things. We watched him laugh, and smile, and run around with boundless energy. We held him when he was tired and carried him through lines. We rode the carousel, which became evident was his favorite, again and again until we were dizzy. We (ok, I) let him splash through the giant garden spigot in "A Bug's Land" until he was drenched from head to toe. He didn't really nap, but that was ok. He snoozed in the stroller or on my shoulder while we waited in line.

Every single penny we spent was worth it. To see our child so happy, so excited, has no price tag. I literally had tears in my eyes as he ran up to Mickey Mouse and gave him a huge hug, squealing in delight. I can't tell you how many times I heard "WOW!" and "that's AMAZING!" and "Look, Mama! Look, Daddy!"

It was a tiring two days that involved a lot of walking. By the time we finished with "World of Color" on Sunday night, we were definately done.

I can see why Disneyland is called the "happiest place on earth." For those 2 days, for us...it truly was magic.

Wordless Wednesday - The Disney Edition

2011-03-09T03:24:00.000-08:00

Wordless Wednesday

2011-03-02T14:15:00.000-08:00

The House of Sick

2011-02-24T15:46:00.000-08:00

Last Monday, Isaac starting coughing. Not just little sputters but deep, phlegmy type coughs. We kept him home and quiet on Tuesday, and we went about normal business on Wednesday, which involved daycare for him. I explained that he hadn't been feeling stellar upon dropoff...which was apparently the emerging trend at the center as several kids were out. By 2, I learned he had a low-grade fever, wasn't really eating, and although he was trying to play, just wasn't doing well. I called the pediatrician and got him an appointment for Thursday morning, hoping for the best. Thursday night was spent relaxing on the couch, watching Mickey Mouse.

When I woke him up in the morning to go to the Dr., it was apparent that my baby was sick, sick, sick. He had a fever, and was obviously miserable. He laid on the couch and then slept the entire way to his appointment. The pediatrician sent us away with a prescription for amoxocillin to treat a bacterial infection in his lungs. Clearly, he was not going to daycare any time soon.

It turns out that anytime soon would be a full week. Friday presented worse than the early days, in that Isaac woke up in tears, with a fever, and what I am guessing was a headache and sore throat, and most likely a sore chest from a night of coughing fitfully. He laid on the couch, demanding that I sit next to him without touching him for about 2 hours, crying and moaning before his tylenol and medicine really kicked in. It was horrible. He wanted to cuddle most of the day. The nights were hard, with Isaac not sleeping for more than 2 hours before waking up in a coughing fit. By Sunday, I saw some improvement in him....and some deterioration in my own health.

Inevitably, I caught what my baby had. I was not about to not wipe his running nose with the only material available at the time, which just happened to be my sleeve. I was not about to not cuddle him or hold him because he didn't know how to cover his mouth while coughing or sneezing. It comes with the motherhood territory, therefore; I am not complaining.

I especially was not complaining on Monday while my husband was home and I was able to leave quarantine for a few hours to go to the dentist (hey! try spending 4 days solid in your house and you'd be excited by that as well!) and run a few errands. By the time I got home, I felt like I had been hit by a train, and so did Ben. We loaded up on OTCs and hoped for the best. Tuesday was a good day. Yesterday not so bad, and Isaac went back to daycare.

This morning, I woke up with what I am pretty sure is an ear infection and my doctor can't see me until next week unless I make an emergency appointment (read: $$$$$$$$$$$) or go to urgent care (read:$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$), and honestly, I am hoping it um...just goes away, since right now it is really just annoying. I know, that's naive. My head feels stuffed full of cotton and my throat is scratchy. Knowing that my baby felt like this absolutely breaks my heart.

All that is keeping me going right now is the thought of mashed potatoes, my bed, and a new Grey's Anatomy tonight.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-02-23T14:14:00.000-08:00

Wordless Wednesday

2011-02-16T13:31:00.000-08:00

10 Things I Love About You

2011-02-15T17:53:00.000-08:00

When you have been together for as long as I have been with my husband, things fall into routine. We are going on 13 years together, 6 married. This past Valentine's Day was our 13th together. And you know, it's easy to see why this day has become a Hallmark, exploited holiday. But again, that's true of any holiday, I guess. Point being, we are busy. We are comfortable. We know the other person very well.

It's easy to go to the jewelry store, to the florist. I don't disagree with the traditional Valentine gifts (definitely NOT with diamonds. Those are suitable gifts for ANY occassion).

This year we decided to try something different. It's going to be an expensive year for us, with the move, a new home, new jobs. We don't have extra money to feed into Valentine's gifts. We agreed that instead of traditional gifts, we would each write a list of 10 things we loved about the other person to keep in our wallets.

It was an easy list to write. There are more than 10 things I love about my husband.

IT WAS THE BEST GIFT I COULD HAVE IMAGINED.

I have read the list he gave me about 20 times since last evening. It makes me cry. I know he loves me. I know he knows me. But let me tell you, this man KNOWS me and LOVES me.

And he made dinner, a similar dinner to the one he made for me on our first Valentine's Day. It was so delicious. He gave Isaac a bath. I cleaned up the kitchen and made his favorite Monster Cookies with red, pink, and white M&Ms.

I took a looooooooong bubble bath, like the ones I used to take before Isaac was born. With wine. And Grey's Anatomy on my laptop.

We all cuddled on the couch and watched TV together. And after Isaac fell asleep, he and I laid on the bed in darkness and talked for an hour.

It was the most perfect day ever. And it didn't cost us anything. I felt loved and appreciated as a wife and mother. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

30 Days of Truth: Day 7

2011-02-11T14:58:00.000-08:00

Day 7: Someone that has made your life worth living for.

I have been thinking about how to respond to this prompt for a while. I had a whole big spheal that I planned to write, about the obvious answers: my son, my husband, my family, my friends. But it seems so generic and cliche, as true as it may be. I started to think about the whole 30 days of truth exercise and what I really wanted to get out of it (besides 30 posts). To me, this about looking into myself and my life.

So my answer is this: ME.

That's right. I have made my life worth living. Sure, people have enhanced the happiness, gave me joy, and made me feel complete. My life is happy and full because of the people who are in it. But the bottom line is, I have made my life what it is.

I am a firm believer that only you can reallly affect your life. Bad things happen to everyone. And everyone has pain and sorrow and anger. But it really is your choice on how you let things impact your life. Experiences shape who you are, but you make your experiences. Happiness is infectious. Smiles make days a bit brighter and easier to get through.

I have been unhappy. I have sat for hours on end, unmotivated and feeling directionless. I didn't like feeling that way. Only you can change your life. You have to make that decision to find somethign that makes you happy or that gives you fulfillment. And I made that decision, many times. If you are unhappy with life, change it. But don't change it for anyone else. Change it for yourself. Make your own life worth living.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-02-09T13:27:00.000-08:00

(Note: I just uploaded all my photos to Shutterfly...so I found a bunch for WW Posts!)

A Change has Brewed.

2011-02-07T11:36:00.000-08:00

I was born and raised in Ohio. I went to a small high school, where I graduated with 129 other people. I went to college and soon enough learned there was a big world out there, one that I really wanted to explore past the midwest. As college graduation loomed nearer, I started looking at grad programs. To be 100% honest, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I knew I loved science, biology, research. But rather than narrowing down my focus into one specific area, I was just interested in everything (with the exception of microbio...yick!). Everytime I took a different class, I would think it was so cool and wanted to learn more, figure out how to do that science as well. I knew graduate school was the next step, but I was kinda clueless. I got a postcard from USF's program while waiting to hear from some other schools. It drew me in and I applied. It seemed to be a developing Masters program, so I knew I could get involved with alot of different ideas. I got in, and Ben proposed. We moved across the country with a few thousand dollars, an old couch, a bunch of plastic dishes, a few plants, and no idea how much our lives were going change.

I finished my Masters, burnt out from school. Still not having a clear direction, I took promotions and higher salaries for a company that I meant nothing to. My husband thrived in his job, and still does. We settled in to our lives. I changed jobs, and switched into my current position. It was here, in this job, that I really grew up. I found my passions and my direction.

And now, sometime this summer, we will leave California and head back to Ohio. We will leave with hopefully more than a few thousand dollars, a new couch and matching chair, 2 cats, real dishes, no plants, because I killed them, and a beautiful little boy... among other things loaded into a sizably larger moving truck.

We are leaving for several reasons. The biggest being that starting in the fall I will be a PhD student! When I left VS, it was to get back into science and pursue my dream. And now, I know what that dream is, and the steps are being taken.

We want to buy a house. Ands let's face it...that's not possible for us here. Ok, correction: the house we want to buy is not possible here.

Isaac...he THRIVES in Ohio. He's a different kid there. He's surrounded by his family, and I feel like an evil mother everytime we have leave.

I want to make something clear. We are not by any means UNHAPPY in California. We are very happy here...we just know we can be happier there. Are we crazy to give up the stability we have here? Maybe. But we don't think we are (most days...I've had some rather large-scale freakout sessions and Ben is remarkably good at calming me. Good husband :) ).

So this is it, the announcement: I am a PhD student, and we are heading back east. We are 100% committed to this change. I didn't want to say anything until it was concrete. And now it is. :)

Wordless Wednesday - My Son, the Budding Scientist!

2011-02-02T15:33:00.000-08:00

He's 2...Already!

2011-01-27T15:41:00.000-08:00

My baby...he's 2. 2 years old. 24 months old. My itty bitty Peanut has turned into my adorable, independent and booming Isaac Boo. How did this happen?!

We took him to Chuck E Cheese on Tuesday, since my husband was off work. He had so much fun. I notice all the differences in him...how much he was growing. He was obsessed with the tokens or "money" like he called them. He kept dumping them out and counting them. Now, he can only count to 20, so he would then count backwards to 1 again and start over. Great fun.

We celebrate with pizza. And big boy cups. That we may or may not still call "babas."

He rode the Bob the Builder forklift. He is an avid fan of driving. So when the ride actually started moving he was very excited.

Still a huge fan of slides too. He puts his arms up over his head and squeals "weeeeeeeeeeee!"

He is also a climber. And while Ben was playing skee ball, Isaac decided that he would climb up onto the game. And then run between skee ball alleys. He also liked to take the actual ball and just throw it into the holes. Which some strange kid told us was clearly cheating. He's 2, kid. And he misses half the time and the ball rolls back to us anyway.

Again with the driving.....

Yesterday, I took him to a cupcakery to pick out a treat for his birthday. He chose a huge cookie as big as his head. And he ate almost the whole thing. I don't blame him, it was a damn good cookie. That's my boy!

He's 2. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around that. That this time last year, he wasn't even walking. That this time 2 years ago, I was holding a bitty baby in the hospital staring in awe at this tiny human we had created.

I still stare in awe. I love the person he is becoming. He's so happy. He is so full of life and so much personality. I see so much of myself in him, his fearless curiousity. His stubborn streak. His sense of humor and trying to make everyone laugh.

I love that smile. :) Happy birthday, Isaac Boo!

The P Word

2011-01-24T15:56:00.000-08:00

Potty training. Ah, potty training. Where to begin? When to begin?

About a year ago, I wrote about how Isaac was learning he actually had bladder and bowel movements. Since then some progress has been made. Or so I hear. Apparently there have been occassions that Isaac has asked to go potty and then done his business on the big boy potty. He does not do this for me, so I like to think that people are making this up. I mean, I am his MOTHER. I am really the only person he needs to worry about impressing at this point. He should have figured out by now that MOMMY is the one with all the power in the house. And that the little girls at daycare aren't impressed by controlled pottying. They might be, but I don't think so.

Anyway, Isaac still sits on his potty for about 2 seconds before he gets in the bath. However, he has figured out that he just gets in the bath alot quicker if pees in his diaper beforehand. He knows what his potty is for.

He started pooping in the bath. It's gross. Nuff said. It tramatized him because when he did it, I FREAKED OUT ON HIM. I mean, he wasn't sick. Because that I understand. He intentionally pooped in the bath. So when he did it again, he was scared and started crying immediately. This time I don't really know if it was on purpose or accident. Can you ever really poop on accident if you aren't sick? Let's not answer that.

So anyhoo, Isaac totally understand the feeling of these bodily functions. He tells me all the time when he goes potty, and if he's really uncomfy, he asks me to change his diaper. He knows how to pull his pants up and down (Note: this is not a new skill). He knows how to wipe and flush a toilet. He knows how to climb up on his step stool and wash his hands. He gets it. And his daycare has the cutest mini toilet I have ever seen. It's like a shrinky dink toilet.

But....

I have no idea how to really, actively start potty training. I think he is almost ready. But I don't want to push him and somehow scar him into using diaper until age 5. We talk about it.

And then, on Saturday I got so help. A clear message was sent.

We were at the park, Isaac running around and playing. All of a sudden he made the poo-poo face. He ran into the corner of a play house. He came out a few minutes later and goes "mama, poo poo." I asked him if he wanted to go to the car and change his diaper. He said no. I asked if he was uncomfy. He said no. I figured it would not hurt to let him play some more. He ran into another play structure shortly after. A few minutes later, I hear "eww....who farted?!" the bigger kids (and by big i mean 3-5 year olds) continued to debated on where the smell was coming from. They figured out it was Isaac. He emerged, clearly embarassed, and came up to me. "Mama, diaper. Go bye bye now. All done poo -poo."

So we left. But with that little extra push, I think we will be seeing some active potty training in our near future.

10 Years

2011-01-21T14:12:00.000-08:00

This week was a rough one. I have struggled with whether or not I wanted to write about it, to even think about it. Now here I sit on Friday, with the week coming to a close, no closer to absolution.

10 years ago, I lost someone. Someone who meant a great deal to me. 10 years ago, my friend Patrick took his own life and sent mine into a spiral. It was 10 years ago. Sometimes that amount of time just doesn't seem possible. It seems like it was just yesterday. I planned a full day on Tuesday. And tried to ignore the other days. 10 years.

I will remember that week forever. I will remember the argument. I will remember the tears, the fear, the emptiness. I will remember the disbelief. All those feelings, so many feelings, most of which I never knew were possible. I remember the anger, so much anger. So many tears. The guilt. Oh. My. God, the GUILT.

So many phone calls. I was mad. That day, all I wanted to do was sleep and cry. And I had to spend it telling people. I will absolutely never, never forget the moment that I had to tell his best friend at school. No one should have to do that. The look on his face. That made me the most angry. I was mad because because of his decision, I had to be the one that hurt his best friend. I know I wasn't the one, but I was the messanger. That was wrong. I was mad.

I remember the long drive to the funeral. I remember how my wonderful friends pulled together for me, and showed me support. I remember turning up my headphones in the back seat and pretending that we weren't driving to a funeral home.

So many explanations. I felt like I needed to have a statement to hand out to everyone. Or at least signs. My friends sheilded me. They ran interference.

After the first viewing, I stayed behind. I stayed so I could have a minute, just me and him. I remember looking down at him, wanting to punch him in the face for the hurt, for the guilt, for the person he made me into in a split second. I wanted to hug him. More than anything, I just wanted to shake him and wake him up.

I remember him. I remember his voice, his eyes, his laugh. I catch glimpses of him in different ways. Sometimes, it just slams into me like a mack truck out of the blue. It leaves me breathless and like I have been suckered punched in the gut. I see things that I know he would appreciate. It's like an endless black pit. Last night it hit me so hard I had to sit down. I just sat and cried. Isaac crawled into my lap and wiped away a tear with his little hand. He let me cry.

How are you supposed to be after 10 years? What are you still allowed to talk about? What kinds of feelings are acceptable? Where should you be? What's acceptable? It seems so taboo, like you have a timeline for grief. I know people would never tell me that. At the same time, I don't know how healing it is for others to see me broken. It was a ripple effect. My husband for example. I know it makes him uncomfortable for many reasons. Foremost that for 5 minutes 10 years ago, there was someone else in my life that meant something to me. That that person hurt me and that as my husband he can't make it better. Sometimes the silence is better.

10 years later, there are still no answers. Can you ever really get over something when you don't know what it was in the first place? The pain is still there. There is still no absolution. But there has come peace. Acceptance. And resolution that I will not be broken anymore. I am more than that week, than that person he made me into.

10 years later, I still miss Patrick.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-01-19T09:11:00.000-08:00

OCD

2011-01-14T11:52:00.000-08:00

I am a firm believer that everyone has some form of OCD in some way or another. Everyone has little things that absolutely have to be a certain way, or it drives them nuts. I have a few, to say the least.

***I am a chronic handwasher. Seriously. When I am getting ready for work or whatnot in the morning, I wash my hands about 25 times. I can literally FEEL stuff on them. Leftover hair serum. Toothpaste. Eyeshadow. Dust from the cornflakes and cheerios. It's bad. My chronic handwashing leads to very dry hands, and consequently I always have lotion with me. However, if there is too much lotion on my hands, guess what? Yep, back to the sink.

***I checked that all our doors and windows are locked about 20 million times before I leave the house or go to bed. Not only the actual door is locked, but the screen doors are locked as well (only at nightime). I will check them before I go change into my pjs. Again after. Again after I brush my teeth. Again after I check on Isaac. Sometimes I will even get out of bed to check them again, because I know I had to unlock the doors to check the locks on the screen doors. I know, I am SICK.

***This last one is the kicker. The one that drives even me NUTSO. I don't stress over things or events. Like, big tests, meetings, etc. I know how to prepare for said events, and I do so. But I also know that there is only so much I can do and that stressing over them doesn't help. The KICKER is this: then I stress that I am not stressed out about it. Um, true story. I stress about not being stressed over something. HOW DO I FIX THAT?!

Anyway, hopefully you don't find me certifiable. And hopefuly, my son does not inherit these wonderful, um..."quirks."

Faux Fries, Real Time Messes

2011-01-12T14:57:00.000-08:00

Like any red-blooded American child, Isaac loves the wonderful greasy goodness of French Fries. He asks for them ALL. THE. TIME. Every meal. Every snack. Random times throughout the day. LOVES THE FRIES.

Anyhoo, we all realize (hopefully) that fries are not the healthiest snack for a budding 2 year old or anyone for that matter. We indulge him every now and then, his father more so than I do. While on a shopping trip to Costco, I found a big bag of Veggie Straws on sale. Isaac has tried these before and liked them so I got him some for snacks and such. And it was Costco, so I got like, a bajillion pounds for $2. Or something.

Upon arrival home, I gave him some with his lunch. He was delighted, and he immediately exclaimed:

"FRIIIIIIIES!!!!!"

My son thinks these veggie straws are fries, and I am going with it. :) However, these is another obsession that must be discussed as well.

*******************

Isaac is too big for his highchair. I am not really sure what the cutoff age for a high chair is, but I am guessing we are passed it or coming close to it. His feet hang below the foot ledge and I am pretty sure he could tip it over if he tried hard enough. Sigh.

I am reluctant to replace baby things with big boy things, even though I know that it needs to be done. It's because I have a huge pile of baby items: clothes, bottles, furniture, blankies, swings... in my basement. I refuse to get rid of ANY of it. Not only because it would be a HUGE waste of money when we have another child and have to rebuy all of it, but because it means my baby isn't my baby anymore. He's growing up, and thriving, just like he should be. Don't get me wrong, I am so happy and proud of him. And he will always be my baby. But it makes my uterus ache. I don't know when we will be having another baby, so the more stuff I put down there just makes me feel further and further away from a baby.

ANYHOO, his highchair is the next thing that will be making the pile larger. Which forces me to figure out his eating situation. Our table has this wierd border thing along the bottom of the eating surface that prevents the use of any type of booster without cutting off circulation in Isaac's legs. He eats at a small table at daycare so I figured I would just find one for him. This is what we ended up with:

The most important thing to note in this picture is that all of Isaac's food is all over the table. That is how he prefers to eat. I give him bowls, plates, etc. That stuff next to the spoon? OATMEAL. I guess it tastes better that way. What you cannot see is the bowl on the floor and miscellaneous clumps of oatmeal that were deemed unsuitable.

Also to note: I did not give him that much corn chex to start with. I gave him a small handful. HOWEVER, in addition to only wanting to eat things straight off the table, he can only eat select bits of food that he has taken from the entire available amount. Meaning: he needs to have the entire box/bag on the table with him.

I went to the bathroom and came back to the above scenario. Getting him to stay at the table was an issue at first, now, not so much. I pick my battles with my son. And having him throw a full blown screaming fit because he wants to eat directly from the box is one I usually let him win. I mean, it just isn't worth it.

However, this may need to be reconsidered. Especially when a huge bag of "fries" is involved:

Yes, that is the entire Costco size bag all over his table. My husband sent me this photo on Monday (Note his phone takes way better photos than mine does).

Sigh.

This happened the next day:

Those are Teddy Grahams.

The brighter side to this situation is that it provides an excellant platform to teach Isaac how to clean up his messes.

Take away points:
Isaac loves the faux fries, which I in turn love.
Isaac loves to eat at his table, which I in turn love.
Isaac likes to dump out ALL his food, mmmm I am indifferent.
Isaac likes to have possession of the entire receptacle from which his food is taken.....combined with the above....

Mommy needs a drink. :)

Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad...Monkey?

2011-01-10T12:02:00.000-08:00

Isaac is a pretty fearless kid. Not many things shake him up. He is very curious and inquisitive, which I love about him. When he was a smaller baby, the sound of a trash bag being shook open scared him. He would cry and look terrified by the loud noise, so we would only change the trash while he was sleeping or not in the house. Since then, he has also expressed a bit of dislike toward the loud noises of the vacuum and dustbuster, but can tolerate them as long as he watches me sweep (which isn't often thanks to our hardwood floors). He has overcome his fear of trashbags and now actually laughs when he sees the big bag flap open.

Now he has a new fear: that monkey who watches the security screens in Toy Story 3.

He isn't just disturbed by the monkey. He is actually afraid of it.

He got the movie for Christmas and he has watched it several times. On Saturday, we curled up on my bed after his bath (which is another story). He hadn't taken a nap that day, so he was pretty tired. He was ready for bed around the time the monkey comes into the movie (I won't spoil the movie for anyone and say more than that), and he didn't cry or say anything. When we put him into his bed, he layed down and said "all done monkey?" We told him yes.

He woke up yesterday morning and asked the same thing. He got the same answer. He asked the question several times mores throughout the day. I seriously believed he was asking about the monkey in a Mickey Mouse episode we had watched on Saturday as well. He is OBSESSED with Mickey and in order to appease him as to why we don't watch an episode on repeat, I often tell him that the characters are sleeping. So I figured this was what he was talking about. Before his nap we curled up on my bed again to finish up the movie. I restarted it right when the monkey comes on.

HE SCREAMED and jumped into my lap. Tears followed. "NO MONKEY! ALL DONE MONKEY! ALL GONE! ALL GONE MONKEY!"

Needless to say, we switched to Mickey Mouse very quickly.

Again, when I put him into his bed for naptime, he asked the same question: "all done monkey?" I assured him the monkey was gone and he went to sleep. I was cleaning up the bathroom about an hour later when I heard him shriek in fear and start crying and screaming for me. I ran into his room, half expecting a kidnapper or something.

He was standing up in his crib, crying and immediately reach for me said through his tears "all done, monkey, all gone. All done?"

DAMN MONKEY! I am pretty sure he had a nightmare that involved the effing thing.

I calmed him down. Assured him that the monkey was not real and could not hurt him. I explained that the monkey wasn't a bad monkey, just a toy. He asked many more times throughout the day, including right before bedtime. My husband told me this morning that he asked the same question as soon as he woke up.

I mean, the monkey is pretty scary looking. Seriously, who makes a toy like that?

But...we will keep watching the movie. I don't want him to be scared of this monkey, so I may fast forward through those parts. Any suggestions on how to conquer this fear?

30 Days of Truth: Day 6

2011-01-07T22:13:00.000-08:00

Day 6: Something you hope you never have to do.

Wow, a polar opposite from yesterday. I am afraid to write this post. I feel like it's tempting fate. I don't even want to think about what I hope I never have to do. There are many things I hope I never have to do.

So....hmmm.

Ok, I hope I never have to fire anyone. I don't like to be the bad guy. I definately do NOT like to be the bearer of bad news.

And that is all I am going to say on that. It's true. And this is about truth.

30 Days of Truth: Day 5

2011-01-06T22:10:00.000-08:00

Day 5: Something you hope to do in your life.

I have always wanted to get my PhD. I love science. I mean, I big red fat puffy heart science. I was born to be a research scientist. I love forming new ideas. I love collecting data and go over and over and over it until my eyes are blurry, just to figure out what it all means.

After my finishing up my Master's degree, I was burn out. I was so tired of the administrative side of school. All I wanted to do was science. I love taking new science classes. I love the discipline. But I was so tired and just done for the moment. I wanted to get married and move to the next chapter of my life, a chapter that did not involve school.

Now...now, I am aching to get back into a lab, into a library, into a classroom. I am ready to take on this goal fully and wholeheartedly. It's who I am, what I am meant to do.

I have other goals, other things that I want to accomplish. I want another child. I want to buy a house. I want to go shark diving. I want to ride in a hot air balloon. I want to travel, go back to Europe. I want to see a blue whale.

The goals I have..I know some of them aren't meant to come true, but they give me much to work toward, to dream about. And one that I hope I achieve is earning my PhD, and I am working very had to make the goal more and more a reality each day.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-01-05T11:26:00.000-08:00

Full Steam Ahead

2011-01-04T23:00:00.000-08:00

He is fealess. But it's nice to know that he looks over his shoulder to make sure Mommy and Daddy are still there.

Attachment

2011-01-03T14:15:00.000-08:00

As we are racing two the 2 year birthday, Isaac has hit a MAJOR mommy attachment phase, one I thought we might bypass. None such luck.

And it's a pretty bad attachment. I saw it starting before Christmas, right when he got sick. We pretty much camped out on my bed and watched "Mickey's Twice Upon a Christmas" and napped for 3 days straight. He got a bit anxious and whiney when I would get up to get food, a refill on his drink (or mine for that matter), or to go to the bathroom. If my phone wasn't in the room with me, forget it, most likely I wasn't answering calls (which I didn't anyway). I attributed this to being sick. I mean, everyone wants their mommy when they don't feel good right?

Well, then he got better. But the attachment got worse. It's gotten to the point where I can't be more than 2 feet away from him, if that. And that is a generous estimate.

Let me clarify. When he is at daycare, he's fine. When he is with his dad, fine. When I am around, not fine. Seriously, it gets ugly and really fast. Most times, he wants to be ON me. On my lap, on my hip, doesn't matter. He wants me to hold him and carry him around. Now the list of things I can do one-handed since having a child is quite extensive and impressive. However, this list grew when Isaac was itty bitty, NOT pushing 30lbs and wasn't so tall...meaning...he's cumbersome to lug around after 2 minutes. If I don't pick him up, he screams. Like throws himself onto the floor and SCREAMS.

I don't give in all the time. I know it's not good for him, and I know (PRAY) that he will outgrow this and soonish. If I am on the couch, he has to sit on my lap or right next to me. If I am in the kitchen, he's in the kitchen. If I am in the bathroom, yep...he's in the bathroom. The other night when Ben was home, I just wanted 2 minutes of peace and I went in the bathroom and shut the door. Within seconds of realizing that I was no longer in the same room as him, Isaac raced to to closed door and began screaming for me. He pounded on the door, and wouldn't let Ben pick him up. Upon coming out, I found a snot-dripping, red faced, tear streaked little boy. Another night, I was literally walking around my (give it large-mongous) bed to put clothes away in the closet and he FREAKED because again, more than 2 feet away.

Sooooo....any suggestions on how I can hurry this phase along? I won't lie, sometimes it is nice. Like the other night when we were watching Toy Story 3 and he cuddled up next to me. But those times when I just can't get him, and I have to walk into another room? Those are the times I need advice.

A Break From Shopping

2011-01-02T17:53:00.000-08:00

Auntie Gail took this picture on her new fancy smancy iPod touch, and I LOOOOVVVVEEEE it. :) After a bit of shopping we took Isaac up to the fabulous Women's Lounge at Nordstrom's to left him run around like a crazy fool for a bit. There is a GIANT mirror on one wall and Isaac was fascinated by his full reflection. He may have even um, licked the mirror. Sigh.

Resolute

2011-01-01T16:43:00.000-08:00

Ah, the start of a new year. A new year that people enter into with resolutions to change their lives, to change themselves. It's time to bid adieu to 2010 and ring in the new year with resolutions.

I really don't make resolutions. I never ever keep them and being the type A personality that I am, I hate fialing at anything. That's what I feel like resolutions do for me, make me feel like a failure. Let's face it no one likes feeling that way. This is just the way I feel. If you can make resolutions and keep them, high five! Seriously. :)

What I do is take time to reflect on the year that is coming to a close. I look at what I accomplished and the happy moments that I shared with loved ones. I look at where I was at the beginning of the year and where I am to close it out. If there is something that I don't like about that year, something about myself, yes I set goals to change it. Maybe those are resolutions. But I don't think so because I don't really set myself to accomplish them in that year. They are just things about my life that I want to change, in general. I believe there is a difference. Again, that might just be me.

I am making a resolution this year. What am I resolving this year is to be happy no matter what happens. That might seem hokey, but I believe that it is the right one to make. We are in for some major changes in 2011, and I want to go into them with optimism and hope. To me, that is half the battle. We are starting this year off in California, but hopefully will not be ending it the same. That itself is a major change, and will involve many sacrifices but all for the better. No one likes change, myself include. In fact, it can downright terrify me, especially when we are happy and stable in our lives. But I, and my husband, believe that although we are happy, there is a life for us that we can be happier in. And that life is not in California. We have a wonderful life and are truly blessed and grateful. We are proud of what we have accomplished.

This new year is starting a new chapter our lives that we are excited about. We are hoping that everything plays out as we want, and that by this time next year I will be able to write that I kept my resolution, that I embraced 2011 with happiness and that I am truly happier than I could have predicted.

Here's to 2011! :)

Another Holiday Come and Gone

2010-12-26T11:35:00.000-08:00

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

2010-12-16T02:53:00.000-08:00

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

2010-12-15T10:31:00.001-08:00

Dancing Machine

2010-12-07T10:39:00.000-08:00

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

2010-12-03T15:18:00.000-08:00

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

2010-12-01T10:08:00.000-08:00

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

2010-11-16T22:13:00.000-08:00

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

2010-11-15T13:20:00.000-08:00

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!

2010-11-09T08:49:00.000-08:00

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

2010-10-28T10:25:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-26T10:20:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-25T12:16:00.000-07:00

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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

2010-10-14T10:53:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-13T09:11:00.000-07:00

30 Days of Truth: Day 1

2010-10-12T02:52:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-11T12:10:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-06T04:08:00.000-07:00

Grocery Challenge Update

2010-10-04T11:47:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-01T15:50:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-29T21:11:00.001-07:00

What's Wrong With This Picture?

2010-09-28T15:54:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-24T12:39:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-17T09:48:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-15T07:00:00.000-07:00

Road Maps

2010-09-13T12:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-08T14:21:00.000-07:00

Toddler Idol

2010-09-05T11:21:00.000-07:00

***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

2010-09-04T05:00:00.000-07:00

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?

2010-09-03T09:31:00.001-07:00

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

2010-09-01T14:37:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-01T13:02:00.000-07:00

The Price Tag

2010-08-31T08:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-30T08:45:00.001-07:00

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

2010-08-25T01:26:00.000-07:00

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

Half of My Heart

2010-08-20T09:23:00.000-07:00

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.