Eight Years Ago Today

It’s difficult for me to believe it has been eight years since my mother died of colon cancer at the age of 49 (please, everyone get a colonoscopy). As many times as I’ve typed those words it still doesn’t seem possible. I always thought having your mother die would probably be the worst thing that could happen to a person. I remember meeting a young woman when I was in college who had recently lost her mom. I studied her face. How could she look so put together? So composed? How was she Going On With Things?

When my mother died I had just turned 27, was recently out of grad school, moving to New York City, and oh so unsure about my future. Of course we had a lot of wonderful years together (and some not so wonderful times too). But she has missed some of the biggies. Marriage. Promotions. Home ownership. And a grandson and granddaughter who inherited her milky blue eyes. If anyone had told me before I had kids that I (brown eyes) would have two blue-eyed little ones romping around my house I would have told them Ha. Well, Ha indeed.

What do you say about your mother? There is no tribute that can do justice. I could fill volumes with memories and anecdotes about her that mean nothing to anyone but me. As time goes on she feels farther and farther away. Sometimes I feel guilty about this. It’s not that I am forgetting about her. I am just going on. As you do. As you must. I keep some of her things around me, but not like I used to. Sometimes I will use one of her cookbooks and notice her funny half cursive, half printed hand writing in the margins. I have a few of her pieces of jewelry that I wear (nothing fancy—she wasn’t that kind of mom). And of course, there are pictures. I like to show Leo and Ellie photos of their grandma. So she is in some ways, here, a part of my every day life. But of course, she is not.

She was such a guiding force for me for so many years. My touchstone, for sure. I couldn’t rent an apartment without her rushing over to inspect it and approve it. She regularly dropped in unannounced to said apartment with bags of expensive cheese and bread (because she knew I would “never splurge on myself”). Once she showed up at my door with a microwave because she knew I needed it and when I mentioned a cold sore that wouldn’t go away I opened my door one morning to find a brown paper bag and a note from her saying the pharmacist had recommended this special tincture (say what you will about our relationship but when she died I was forced to do some serious growing up).

Pictured above, my mom, Eleanor. Toward the end of her life she discovered traveling. She and my step dad went to Japan (where this photo was taken), England, Italy and France and my mother drank those times up, as if making up for lost time, for all the years she didn’t get travel. I’m so glad she was able to have those experiences. She learned to love wine and crepes and jet black espresso in Paris cafes (well truthfully, she was already a coffee fiend--there was no need to learn that). I think this photo captures her spirit, her energy so well. She once complimented me on my “joie de vivre” (French for "enjoyment of life"). Well where do you think I got it Mom? Weighed down by a camera, tripod, heavy rain coat and “shlepping,” as she would say, a bag, she was still, ready for anything.

An end. Sniff.

Today is bittersweet. I decided to stop pumping at work for Ellie. Don’t get me wrong, I hated pumping (who likes it?). But to me it signals she is officially not a newborn anymore (yea I know, she hasn’t been one for a while). Milestones like this are always a little funny for me. We also moved her (finally!) out of her infant car seat over the weekend. That was another sniff. It was beginning to be ridiculous (and really, who pumps for a ten month old? Me, I guess). In the beginning I was almost able to keep up with her, producing 2-2 ½ bottles a day. Then, somewhere it shifted and I was pumping twice a day and getting like three ounces. I had a goal to make it to one year but she’s going to be eleven months and that’s only a month away. I already feel freer. I hadn’t realized how much my day had revolved around pumping. I am still going to breast feed (or at least I hope to, providing my supply doesn’t completely go to heck). I was able to do this with Leo (work all day and just nurse him in the mornings and evenings without pumping). Let’s hope the boobs cooperate again.

I’m taking Leo in for a sick visit this afternoon-we think he might another ear infection, and I’m going to ask the doctor about starting Ellie on cow’s milk. They say twelve months but she’s only one month away. Seems doable but we’ll see what he says. I’ve never loved that she had to do formula, even the organic kind.

Dora Exhibit: Overwhelmed.

Check out the sixth photo (I hate the order in which these posted, did not mean for all the ones of Ellie to come first). It's the Deer in Headlights expression on Leo’s face. He seems to be saying, what do I do first?

That last shot of him sleeping was in the car after the museum, lunch, and a cupcake from Batch.* And all was right with the world.

Think he had a good time?

Ellie enjoyed herself as well. When we got home Leo kept sleeping and Ellie and I had a photo shoot in the backyard. I am so glad the weather is nice now as the outdoor shots are so much better (without flash). By the way, Ellie does not like grass. She kept trying to crawl off the blanket and when she felt the grass she made a face and returned to the blanket.

Too bad about the car in the background of all those outdoor Ellie shots. My stepdad has instilled in me that the background is as important as the main subject of the photo--hard to do (at least for me) when you are shooting babies and kids.

*I don't care what anyone says. Magnolia Bakery is totally overrated. Batch wins the best NYC cupcake award in my book, hands down.

Notes from Leo’s Teacher

One of the things I love about the school Leo attends is that they are very good about communicating with parents about what the children are doing, how they are doing and just general updates. When your kid can’t tell you himself this kind of information is invaluable. I know I’m a big sap but sometimes the notes from his teacher Ms. S make me well up. They are just so cute. And the thought of Leo having this whole separate world, these relationships with his teachers and therapists and friends, well I just think it’s wonderful. On the whole, Leo is doing very well at school; we’re very fortunate that he is for the most part quite healthy (knock on wood!) and he seems to genuinely enjoy school and learning. It’s not all peaches and cream of course—there have certainly been notes about Leo not feeling well and not cooperating (melting into a puddle as he likes to do sometimes when he doesn't feel like cooperating). But generally, he is, as his teacher says a “good student.”

Here’s a sampling of some recent comments from Ms. S:

After a school field trip to the Turtle Back Zoo:
Leo did great at the zoo. He was very cooperative. He was on his feet most of the time. Leo was very interested in all the animals. He said "hi" and "bye" to almost each and every animal.

In response to a note that I wrote about how Leo is beginning to make observations about the world around him:
We are all very proud of Leo. It is great to see that he now likes to show what he knows. He does not hold back and is not shy anymore (most of the time).

On reading:
Leo is progressing very nicely. We just started working on learning letters for Leo's last name. He’s also doing well with reading sight words.

On communicating:
Leo is making nice progress in speech. Today when it started raining, Leo tapped on my shoulder and said "raining" and pointed outside. Also Leo now loves to drink water. Does he drink at home too?

Obsessed

Ellie is completely obsessed with our fireplace. She loves to climb inside it and sit on it like it's her own little stage.

Now I'm sure you are horrified at the thought of letting a ten month old play inside a fireplace but this isn't just any fireplace. It's sort of a "faux" fireplace. See pictures above. Our house didn't come with the real thing and we are big on seasonal tchotchkes (you name a holiday and I will decorate for it). Where else would I be able to put my pumpkin/turkey/miniature Santa collection? And when you have a house full of curious fingers it's so helpful to have a high spot (to hide the remote controls of course). We even have the logs and fake flames to go with the fireplace but we had to put that away for the time being as Ellie was trying to do gymnastics moves on the logs that were decidedly unsafe. Eventually the plan is to purchase one of these. It's a heater that goes inside the frame of the fireplace so it doesn't look quite so, well, fake. We're waiting because it's not exactly kid friendly (it actually gives off some heat!). I don't mind Ellie playing in what we have now but she keeps forgetting the fireplace is elevated and she tips over backwards. Not good. I am amazed by her climbing skills though. At this stage they are just like little monkeys. She is Curious Georgia.

Speaking of obsessed, I cannot wait for this weekend. We are taking Leo here for a special Dora the Explorer exhibit. I know, Dora is beyond annoying but she makes Leo exceedingly happy (I can't explain it either but hey, my kid likes it and it's not hurting anyone and if he learns a little Spanish along the way, so be it). And when he watches her I can actually cook dinner in peace (when I'm not rescuing Ellie from toppling off the fireplace). Make sure to check back here on Monday for photos of Leo's head exploding when he sees the Dora exhibit. The museum also has a "water feature" (I'm guessing this is where kids play with water?) and an area where they can dress up like firefighers and climb a fire truck. There is also stuff for those Ellie-sized. Did you hear that Ellie? More climbing. I wonder if there will be fireplaces?

I completely forgot that Monday is a holiday until oh, yesterday. It will be nice to be home with the kids and if the weather is good which it's supposed to be we'll go to the park for sure. And maybe a barbeque. Here is where I will admit my unabashed love for hot dogs.

Food and Drink

I decided at ten months Ellie really should be at least be considering a sippy cup. I tried it for the first time about a month ago and she had no idea what to do with it. I gave it to her again on Sunday and she was no expert but certainly seemed a bit more interested and skilled. I filled it with watered down apple juice and she managed a few sips when she wasn’t tipping it over and pouring it out on the tray. She was way more involved in the string cheese, matzo ball and pastina (hey, she knows what’s good). Leo is also a good eater though nearing four he is much pickier than he used to be. (I’ll have to search my photo archive for shots of him as a baby with a tray full of kidney and garbanzo beans, tofu and spinach—seriously, he would eat anything). This weekend he was eating oatmeal (yes, oatmeal—I know, not my favorite either) and at one point I looked over and he had his eyes closed as he was chewing. He seemed to be enjoying it that much that he was in some kind of eyes-closed-oatmeal-trance. I love the fact that my kids seem to really enjoy eating.

Food is really important in our family. You know, the whole “food is love” thing. You know who would really delight in their love of eating? Their grandma, Ellie’s namesake. I really miss her.

Pictured above, Ellie tries out the cup while Leo hams it up; also, Leo gets into his oatmeal.

Not a Great Start to the Week

I love my kids. I really do. But not so much at 5:15 in the morning. That’s when Leo decided to wake up today. I thought I could get him to play nicely in his room until say, 6am but no go. He started with the banging. Don’t ask me what he was banging, but he was making a lot of noise. And at about 5:18, guess who started crying?

I put Leo in our bedroom to watch Sesame Street while I got dressed and put my makeup on. Ellie whined in her crib. When he’s not annoyed by her crying, Leo seems to feel genuine concern for Ellie and will go to her to try to console her, often bringing a toy or other book. A few minutes into the whining he rushed to her side and pointed to the crib, indicating he wanted to get in. Fine. They actually play quite nicely in there (though I kept an eye on them at all times from the bathroom).

It was nice not having to rush around (we were all dressed and downstairs by 6am--hey, only AN HOUR ahead of schedule. It was nice to have a few extra minutes to hang out with the kids. But.

Ellie fell asleep in the car on the way to daycare which she never does.

I am fantasizing about my own nap time.

It’s going to be a long Monday.

Pictured above: Ellie demonstrating her cruising skills over the weekend and Leo demonstrating his snacking skills. Check out the last one (and please pay no mind to the dried sweet potato face; I was just about to clean her, honest). Anyway, Look Ma! No hands! And don't miss her Michael Jordan Reach For the Coffee Table Move.
The walking. Oh how I am already dreading the walking.

A Perfect Sized Name

We had no idea when we named Leo that his name would be such a perfect length for learning to write. We really planned that well didn’t we? I’m happy to report that Leo knows how to write his name and he actually has for some time. You can see from this photo how they do it—the teacher writes the child’s name and the child writes the letters below it (notice in the top left hand corner the teacher's note: “wrote independently”). He doesn’t need the modeling anymore though. He can totally do it himself. I am so proud!

Random thoughts on a Rainy Friday.

It’s Friday (yay!)

It’s raining (boo!)

I am wearing a non-maternity shirt that looks maternity and therefore makes me look pregnant. (why!)

I’ve grown to feel that my Danskos are clunky (though I still like them) and insisted on wearing ballet flats (so not rain-proof). My jeans are wet up to the calf from the puddles on the way from train to building and my shoes, well they are just wet. Oh well.

I am loving and devouring The Book of Dahlia. So disturbing and sad and funny and moving. I feel myself bounding through it too see how it will end (well I think the girl with the brain tumor is going to die, duh) but I also find myself stalling. It’s the book that I don’t want to end. When I really enjoy a book and it’s over, it’s almost like a loss. The people, the characters in that book are so real that I am sad to see them go. And I love how it makes the commute fly.

But the real news is that Ellie slept from 9:15 to 7:15 last night. Not. A. Peep in between. But of course, because life is like this, guess who has decided to have nightmares two nights in a row? Yes that would be Leo. Poor guy. He goes right back to sleep after a few minutes of comforting, but the fact that I have yet to sleep blissfully through the night, well I guess if it wasn’t so ridiculous it would be sad. I know I know, we should all have such problems. In the grand scheme it’s not that big of a deal and it is so much better than it was even just a few weeks ago. I am just so excited about Ellie sleeping that a little Leo wake-up seems negligible.

I still can’t get used to the whole both-kids-in-bed-I-have-the-night-stretched-out-before me-thing.

Well to be fair it’s hardly “the night.” By the time I have showered, unloaded/loaded the dishwasher, gotten bottles ready for the next day, sorted the laundry and picked up the toys it’s practically time for bed. I won’t even tell you how much DVRed stuff there is to watch. I remain at least a week behind on Top Chef and I still haven’t watched last week’s America’s Next Top Model(never mind that they announced the Wednesday night—ssshh don’t tell me!). I vote for the Big Girl but I doubt she got it.

It’s hard for me to settle down and relax; for fear that someone (um, Ellie) will start to cry. And sometimes when she goes down I think I should just go straight to bed, to seize that sleep time. But if she is serious about making a habit of sleeping through the night, then I might have to rethink that urge. I might have to actually consider Doing Stuff at night. Last night was my favorite night of the week: Grey’s Anatomy. I actually watched it live (ok it was a bit delayed as I watched it late so I was still able to fast forward through the ads). I am loving the Hahn/Torres Sapphic thing. I just hope they don’t make it into some big joke. Ha ha they’re not really lesbians. I mean I don’t care if they’re really not but I just don’t want it to be a joke—something that will just get laughed about. I give the writers a bit more credit than that though.

On tap for the weekend: a lot depends on how this weather turns out. Right now it is looking suspiciously like my hometownout there and that does not bode well for the outdoor activities. Still no fence and still no word from fence guy which is a little troubling.

And where oh where is my tax refund?

I leave you with cute Ellie news. I had been talking with a work colleague about Cute Things Our Kids Do and realized I am so busy with having two that I don’t pay attention to the minutiae the way I did with one. Maybe it’s because I was constantly analyzing and assessing Leo and with Ellie I am more relaxed. But I realized I didn’t know if Ellie could give hugs or kisses, heck I found out she could wave by complete accident. So this morning I asked her to give me a kiss and guess who leaned over and planted her wet little mouth on my cheek. Well to be fair it was more like she planted her whole face on my cheek, but I think she gets the idea! The kissing!

I could not be more proud. The sleeping. The kissing. What more could a mother ask for?

Pictured above (since I haven't taken any good pictures lately this one will have to do) is Leo at the park on a weekend a few months ago when the weather was much nicer than it appears that it will be this weekend. It was only a few months ago but he looks so much younger there. Maybe because of the bowl hair cut?

Cribs and Books and Big Plans for the Food Processor

I’m a little late on notes from the weekend it being Wednesday already. Really, where does the time go? Here are some bullets:

-We moved the crib into the guest room which is now I guess heretofore “Ellie’s room.” I am afraid to even put this in writing for fear I will jinx things but each night she was in there, things got better. And last night, drumroll please…she slept from 9:30pm to 5:45 am. Straight through. Yes it’s true. Of course I woke up multiple times because I have been doing this since I was six months pregnant, but that should pass soon, right? Oh happy day! Keep up the good work Ellie! This morning when I went to get her she was awake in her crib, sitting up and smiling and yes, reading a book. It was freaking adorable. Monday morning, the morning after the first night that she slept so well I went into her room singing Kelly Clarkson's "Miss Independance." I don't know what came over me but it just seemed appropriate.

-This may be too much information but I am really struggling with the pumping (OK this is not really a weekend subject but it’s on my mind). It’s not that I want to wean Ellie—I don’t mind nursing at all since I am pretty much only doing it twice a day now (once in the morning and once before bed). It’s that when I pump I get hardly anything. I went from being able to produce almost three bottles to two and now I’m lucky if I get one. Her one year birthday is two months away. I tell myself it doesn’t matter what I get as long as it’s something—a little breast milk is better than no breast milk (I can still hear Leo’s NICU nurses with their sage advice). OK, I will press on and not worry how much I get. Plus I’m afraid if I stop pumping altogether I won’t be able to nurse and then how the heck will I get Ellie to sleep?

-Books. I finished Road Map to Holland in like three days which is good for me (since I am a slow reader and also only get to read during the commute to work.) Next up is The Book of Dahlia which I heard about when the author was interviewed on Fresh Air. Wow. The first chapter blew me away. It’s about a slacker who finds out she has brain cancer. One of the reviews summed it up nicely: “Should we mourn a wasted life?” Quite a departure from the Holland book. I’m really enjoying reading books again. I feel like this new found thing called sleep is helping me return to the person I was once was. With interests! I have even been daydreaming about all the things I want to cook and bake. That is not so unusual except I’m hoping that not being so exhausted will allow me to actually make some of them (lemon bars, pumpkin bread and pesto, gazpacho, salsa). Can you tell that someone has a new food processor?

-In Leo and Ellie notes, Leo has moved on from telling the dog to go “Away” to now telling Ellie to go “Away!” He does it a lot in the car and he can get pretty loud and mean sounding. He’s caused her to burst into tears several times. I hate yelling at him, but I also hate seeing Ellie cry. I know that he has some hostility towards her (understandably) but it’s also my responsibility to make her feel safe. I am probably over thinking this.

Meanwhile, Ellie is cruising everywhere. I find it ironic to think about how all I wanted was for Leo to walk and with Ellie I am just appreciating each day that she doesn’t walk. She loves to have her hands held while you walk with her. She finds it hilarious and grins the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. She has taken to looking up at me and grinning when I walk with her, which makes it difficult for her to walk.

-The Bouncy Chair and Infant swing have been retired (and as mentioned earlier, the crib is now out of our bedroom). It is bittersweet to see my little baby growing up, to see this end of infancy. I know, I know. She hasn’t gotten her own apartment. Yet.

Pictured above, Leo and Ellie test drive the new locale of the crib. Please don't call Child Services on us. We think Leo got that mark on his chest from some sort of unfortunate encounter with the carpet at daycare.

Almost Unreadable. But That's a Compliment.

I'm on page 37 of Road Map to Holland by Jennifer Graf Groneberg. I'm sure my fellow bus mates were wondering who that crazy lady was sobbing in the back of the bus this morning. I'm at the part where she just received her son's diagnosis and it's the early days in the NICU. Hmm, sounds familiar. Life revolving around pumping, split into three hour increments. Memories that are bittersweet because you know that when the happened it was "before" you knew about the Down syndrome. Having to make that terrible phone call, the one to tell about a birth that should ostensibly be good news, only to have to make a different, crushing kind of phone call. Feeling like you let everyone down. Mourning the baby you thought you were going to have. Looking at the baby you did have like he is a stranger. A monster. And yes, the feeling that you've been kicked in the stomach and you can't breath.

Wow. Why am I subjecting myself to this? I don't know, but I am so bummed it's Monday and I have to work. The only saving grace is that because it's Monday I have time to read--I will be counting the hours until my commute home where book time is my time.

Social Butterfly

Took the kids to the park this past Saturday afternoon. I think one of the things I miss most about living in Brooklyn is that there were always people at the playground. Sometimes too many people but that’s another story. There was always someone to talk to and there were always kids for Leo to play with. Since we’ve moved to the suburbs we play a lot more in our yard but I still like to get to the park. Saturday I think I spoke to more people in one afternoon than I have talked to since we moved to the burbs almost a year and a half ago. It made me feel good to know it's possible to have some social interraction in the burbs. Now it's not Brooklyn, but that's ok!

There was Don, the friendly young man playing basketball by himself. Leo was fascinated by him (we have a hoop in our driveway so he knows about “shooting hoops.”) At first I felt bad about Leo bothering him but Don was completely into it. Once he let Leo start shooting the other little kids in the park followed—Don was the Pied Piper of Stagg Field.

I also talked to a dad who was playing Frisbee with his son (when he told me his kid was four I was shocked—I am always amazed at how much bigger and just older (and of course chattier) typical kids are compared to Leo who is, gulp, almost four). I was pretty impressed that a four year old was even attempting to play Frisbee as I have yet to figure out how to really throw one without taking out the nearest tree or car windshield. The dad and got to talking about living in the city versus the ‘burbs (he’s been in our town for six years). Sure enough, Leo saw the Frisbee match and thought it would be fun to join in. He actually gave it a pretty good throw.

We saw some sort of terrier (looked like Toto in “The Wizard of Oz” but he was white. Leo got very excited when we saw him and turned to me and signed the word “cat.” Our dog Ruby is a large (sadly more in width than height Golden Retriever). Leo is not accustomed to small dogs.

On the way home I stopped and chatted with a woman who was gardening in her front yard. It a yard that I have enjoyed ever since we moved in. So many of the yards in our neighborhood are just so boring with these generic non flowering bushes with some blah azaleas and the usual annuals thrown in. This woman’s yard is filled with perinneals, and though it’s early in the season I’m reminded how lovely it looks by summer’s end. I told her I’d been admiring her garden and she beamed (and she said something cute: “I’ve been admiring your children!”

I could tell I had made her day. You’d have thought I told her she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. She started talking about how long she’d lived there and which plants do the best. Her husband even came outside and joined in the conversation. I told her I wished I could garden more and she glanced down at Ellie strapped to me in the Bjorn and Leo, squirming in the stroller. She told me what everyone tells me. That I have my hands full. She’s right. I am working on appreciating what I have, instead of always worrying how I can possibily fit everything in. I just can’t do it all and that’s ok. There will be plenty of years to garden. There will be a time when my kids don’t even want to hang out with me. That’s when I can garden. The days are long but the years are short. But in the meantime, I’ll do a little gardening when I can squeeze it in (I actually contemplated planting a few things last night in the dark after the kids had gone to bed but decided not to-how sad is that?).
Pictured above, we chopped down some big, generic suburban bushes to make room for more gardening space. An "after" picture isn't that impressive when you don't have a "before," but there it is. We have a long way to go but we're making progress. Also pictured is Ellie, having nothing to do with the park or gardening and smiling so wide that her eyes are closed. I just couldn't resist this photo. It just sums up her personality so well. Just so smiley.

Magic!

Can you believe that package is holding a king sized comforter? It’s vacuum packed, like NASA or something. When I opened the bag it whistled loudly, like air was being let out of a tire. Amazing! (Thanks to Ellie, for providing readers with a sense of scale here.)

Dirt Don't Hurt

For some reason Leo decided he wanted to have his snack on the floor on Saturday. I gave him his bowl of Veggie Bootie which he promptly sat down with on the kitchen floor. This might not sound strange. But wait, it gets better. Ellie was playing in another corner of the kitchen and when she saw him eating she immediately bounded towards him with her little speed crawl, smacking her little palms and knees on the wood floor (never one to say no to a snack, my girl). The next thing I knew, she had grabbed the bowl from Leo and dumped the Booty on the floor and next, she was going for the Booty, one big piece into that tiny little mouth (I feed her Booty but break it up into smaller pieces). Not sure what this says about me as a mother, but instead of shreaking in horror and scooping up the Booty as trash, I knelt down and broke the pieces up (the pieces that were on the floor!). And continued to let Ellie and Leo eat them. Wouldn’t want the baby to choke, was my thinking. I probably wouldn’t do this again, but just that one time I think it was ok.
Pictured above, my kids, eating their snack on the kitchen floor. Five second rule anyone? (Don’t miss Leo admiring himself in the reflection of the trash can.)