Goodbye, Hello and the Winds of Change

For the record, today, the last day of August was the first day in a long time that we all needed jackets. Light, jackets, but still. I’m sure we’ll still have many more hot days this year, but autumn is in sight.

And so is change. How’s that for a not very smooth transition? Let’s just hope the actual transition is a bit more graceful.

So we all know that school begins (for us) next week. Today marked the last day for the kids at the “old” daycare. It felt a little strange, we’ve been going there for over two years. When Leo began there, well, there was no Ellie and Leo was not yet three and definitely more like a toddler. Now, he’s all little boy. And speaking of…

We had the first lost tooth this weekend!

Yesterday afternoon, Leo emerged from the basement playroom where he was enjoying some “alone time” while Ellie napped. We noticed a suspicious white substance around his mouth and upon further inspection, determined it might be caulk from a project Erin had been working on downstairs in her basement workroom (adjacent to playroom). And don’t ask me what would inspire Leo to get into the caulk gun, just don’t. Anyway, it was then that we noticed the missing bottom tooth! And by missing I do mean missing as we have no idea where the actual tooth is. Oh well, Tooth Fairy. You’re just going to have to trust us on this one.

Back to change. I’ve been coaching the kids about the new school. We talked about it again this morning on the car ride to their last day at the “old” daycare. When I talked about how they were both starting new schools and that soon, Leo would be taking the bus again, they nodded their heads with such bright, round eyes and sweet enthusiasm. Let’s just hope what sounds so fun in theory is the same in practice. One promising sign: I came home on Friday to a message from Leo’s teacher. She called me at home to find out how Leo’s summer had been and just to, you know, chat. This is a first. Even at Leo’s former, tiny school that was so hands-on, I never received a pre-first day at school phone call. And yes, I teared up a little.

I had a minor freak out this weekend (OK, major) when I opened the letter from the transportation division of the school district and learned that Leo’s bus would be picking him up at 7:25 AM, from the daycare. For the past two years, Leo has caught his bus at the daycare and had about a ten minute ride to school (because of my commute to work, it just worked out better for him to leave from daycare). Well, goodbye to all that and welcome to the rough and tough world of public elementary, bigger school, more kids, longer bus ride. But back to the freak out. Having Leo get picked up at 7:25 would mean we’d all have to be at the daycare at 7:15. Did I mention Ellie is usually still asleep at 7:15?

Thankfully, a quick call to the school district this morning remedied the situation. Leo will be picked up by the bus at home at 7:45 which is much more tolerable though still cutting it close on my end in terms of catching my bus into the city, but I’ll make it work. That will mean a shorter bus ride (school starts at 8:35) and the thought of only taking one kiddo to daycare in the morning? Well that sounds downright luxurious to me.

I realize the minutea of all these little bus details and school starting times is about as exciting as reading about paint drying, but trust me when I say this is huge to me (and Leo, of course).

The "new" daycare is closed this whole week for cleaning and "teacher prep" (grrr) so we're getting a little creative about childcare. I'm fortunate enough to have a childcare center in my building at work that allows for employees to bring their children a certain number of times a year. So tomorrow morning the whole family will load up the van and head into midtown Manhattan for quite a little adventure. We'll do the same on Wednesday and then I'm taking the rest of the week off.

Kids + waking up earlier than usual + driving into Manhattan during rush hour + parking + me sitting at my desk all day knowing my children are downstairs in the same building as me + driving back home during rush hour ...It should be interesting. I'm trying to keep an open mind, but it could get get ugly. Although you should have seen the look on the kids' faces when I asked them if they wanted to "go to work with Mommy."

The rest of the week and holiday weekend we will be drinking up the last few days of summer, having lazy, crazy play dates, seeing how many hours we can log in the kiddie pool and how many Popsicles we can eat.

It should be rough.

Housekeeping

Well I guess not really housekeeping, not the kind that entails actually cleaning (although I do keep waiting for Matilda-that's what I've named our imaginary cleaning person-to drop by while I'm at work).

I guess this is more like a check-in.

Summer is winding down. Though it's still blazing August hot, I think I've detected a chill in the air the last few mornings. Au Bon Pain had pumpkin soup today (seems like they're jumping the whole fall thing just a tad but hey, I'm ready). Pumpkin spice lattes can't be far behind, can they?

A few things:

-I took Ellie (aka Chunka Munka, pictured above) in for her two year check-up today. She's amazing. She's also not small! 33 pounds and 36 inches, as in three feet. I've referred to Ellie as "Chunka Munka," (from the Beatrix Potter story about the hungry mice who tried to eat doll house food) for a long time. She really doesn't eat that much, she's just big like her Mommy. She's too busy to eat, I swear. Anyway I don't think she takes it personally. It still rattles me a bit to go to well baby check-ups with Ellie, to be able to answer "yes" to all the developmental milestones, to not leave with a list of specialists. Typical kids are so...weird!

-At the doctor our pediatrician told me that he recently was called to examine a newborn who surprised his whole family by having Down syndrome. The couple decided to give the baby up for adoption. This breaks my heart. I understand people might not think they can "handle it," but still. The fact that this still happens, in 2009...there is still not the information in place at hospitals or genetic counseling offices, for people to know that Down syndrome is not the end of the world. Stepping off soapbox now.

-We are in new school countdown mode. Leo's world is about to be seriously rocked as he starts kindergarten and a new after care (daycare) the day after Labor Day (along with Ellie). I'm nervous but excited to see what these changes bring. We got Leo's official "packet" yesterday. I was expecting a mile long supply list. I guess that will come once he actually goes to school?

-For all my big talk about fall TV, I am so lame. I have yet to watch the first episode of "Project Runway" (it's waiting for me on the DVR). I didn't get to the new Top Chef until the weekend and it took me about half the day to even watch it, with all the interruptions. The sad fact is, it's hard for me to stay awake past 10:30pm. Even for Don Draper.

If Not Now When and Going in for the Hug

A sponge of absolutely intolerable humidity has been sitting on top of the tri-state area this week. Just when you think it's so humid that it is totally going to rain because it just doesn't seem possible that it couldn't...it doesn't. It’s making me cranky and sleepy and grateful that we’ve had such a mild summer. I know, I know, this is what August in much of the East is. If not now, when? That doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I got spoiled being on vacation. I missed the kids this week. It’s sad, sometimes, that the few hours I get to see them during the week they’re exhausted and cranky. I’m really just talking about Ellie here. She’s been a miserable little human being every night this week. I pick them both up from daycare hot faced and hungry (they’re not really hungry, I know for a fact they snack all afternoon). I think what they are hungry for is attention and I can’t blame them.

Last night Ellie dissolved into a puddle of two year old fury the second we walked in the door. I’ve never seen her so upset, a squawking, shrieking mess of arms and legs and tears, on the mudroom floor, and for what I still don’t know. Then again I’m not sure she knew why either. But if not now, when? She is so two right now. It was remedied quickly with a bottle (Ellie’s evening cocktail is cold milk) and a snuggle while we quietly watched "Diego" with Leo before dinner. It’s the best part of my day.

***

We had an interesting encounter last weekend. We were at Target and while I stopped to admire some cute Ellie clothes, a little boy (maybe four? I’m bad at guessing kid’s ages) struck up a conversation with Leo, about his action figure.

He was talking at Leo, who was sitting in the large part of the shopping cart, a mile a minute, about all of the action figure’s features and Leo was fascinated, and nodded and said “yea” in all the right places. He asked “what’s ‘at?” a couple of times and the boy patiently explained the features in question.

I watched the whole interaction, waiting for the kid to turn to me and ask what was wrong with Leo, waited for him to ask me, Why doesn’t he talk? There have been many times at the playground when older kids ask me about Leo, ask me why he doesn’t talk (he does, I want to say, you just might not understand what he’s saying-but I usually choose not to get into it). There was the time I still remember when the mean little girl called four-year-old Leo a baby, not just a baby but “the biggest baby she’d ever seen.” I cringe at these moments and am grateful that at least for now, Leo seems oblivious to these kinds of incidents. I can only wonder how long that innocence will last.

But this Target scene, this was different. This was the first time Leo actively participated in a conversation with someone else. There was an actual back and forth. Sure Leo’s was brief, a few “what’s ats” and “yeas,” but that’s something. He actually was talking.

I got a little teary watching it (I know, so shocking).

And then when it was time to move on, I told Leo to say goodbye. And of course, Leo went in for the hug.

“Why don’t you shake his hand Leo?” I suggested quickly, as I watched the puzzled little boy look quizzically at Leo. Leo easily transitioned his hug into a handshake and the little boy’s dad and I exchanged smiles.

“Bye Leo!” the dad said.

So, major points for the conversation, with a few deductions for the closing hug. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the tendency to hug everyone? I mean if that’s the worst thing you can say about a person, is it really so terrible?

I get it of course. Not everyone wants to hug Leo and there are certainly people Leo shouldn’t be hugging. But it still kind of depresses me. Don’t we all need more hugs than we get in this life?

You Can and You Can't Go Home Again

As hard as it was to go back to work right after we returned from Oregon, it was probably a good thing. I am a big sufferer of post vacation blues, particularly when that involves returning home from a beautiful place like Oregon, which elicits smiles like this:

Gee, they don’t look happy or anything, do they?

The trip was brief (six days), but wonderful.

First of all, can we talk about the coffee?

Stumptown Coffee. If you like coffee, find a way to get to Portland and to Stumptown. You will not be sorry. And your latte will look like this.

Art, truly.

But it's not just about coffee. Portland is just unlike any place. I grew up there, so I took it for granted my whole young life, longed to leave it for a good many years. And now that I’m gone, as much as I love my big city (now, more like big city adjacent) life, I find myself coming up with weekly, if not daily schemes to claw my way back. Maybe someday. But for now, it is not to be. In the meantime, there are memories.

Portland is where a house like this is the norm.


Portland is where yards run the gamut, from wild but well kept perennials to disheveled “hippy” lawns, bearing signs that read: “Free dandelions.” True story.

We took many early morning walks (anything to get the loud children out of the house where grandparents still slept) and met a lot of cats.

And it turns out the kids like cats (note the wild, unmowed, hippy yard). And yes that gray blob is a cat.

The day after we arrived, the wedding whirlwind began in full swing. There was a rehearsal Friday afternoon (as mentioned previously, Leo was ring bearer and Ellie was flower girl, while I did a short reading). I admit to having a brief freak out. What if my children ruined my sister’s wedding?

Of course, these angels didn’t ruin anything. And as I said, it all went swimmingly.

That night we went to the rehearsal dinner at a Thai restaurant (another Portland must is Thai food. I lived for many years in the culinary mecca of New York City and still live in close proximity and I’m telling you I never had Thai as amazing as I’ve had in Portland).

But Leo’s views on Thai? Let’s just say he’s not a fan. Desperate, I convinced the waitress to make Leo scrambled eggs (it’s his go-to dish, any time, any where). We figured, there’s egg in the Pad Thai, would it be so much to ask?


Leo kissed the plate when the server brought it. I kid you not. No one ever faulted Leo for not being appreciative.
The maraschino cherries in the Shirley Temples also helped occupy the small people at the table.


A sure sign that Leo is enjoying himself is when his eyes close. It was maraschino bliss.

Shameless, gratuitous photo to show off adorable sailor dress purchased at thrift store for $3.50.

The next morning, the crush began to make the hooligans presentable and well-rested for the big event.

Here they are about 30 minutes before the wedding pictures were taken. As I said, Leo does not wake up in a good mood. Needless to say, he did not appear in any of the wedding pictures.

Moods improved exponentially once there was food. And guess what? Leo can dance!

He loved the music and for a great many songs he was the only one on the dance floor. Leo and Ellie even danced together, albeit, briefly.

(not pictured: the fact that this quickly dissolved into Leo dragging Ellie to the ground a la “ashes, ashes we all fall down!”).

It was a magical evening, the sun setting a milky, orangey pink behind an overcast sky, family members from far and wide and old family friends, some of whom I hadn’t seen for years and years or more, some of whom had never met the children, mingling on the lawn behind an Oregon vineyard. It was dreamlike.

With the wedding over, it was time to switch gears.

We went to the Oregon Zoo and met Samudra, the first third-generation baby elephant to be born in the United States. Leo, like the rest of us, was in love.



After the elephants, well-deserved snowcones with the grandparents in a shady spot.

We went to Multnomah Falls where we took the proverbial family photo in front of the falls. (Check out Leo-miserable as usual.)


And that was that. To all the friends I didn't get to see-I'm so sorry. It was a dizziness inducing short trip. The next day we boarded the plane. Back to New Jersey.

Sigh.

I finally saw "Julie & Julia" (more on that in another post) over the weekend. In it, Paul Child tells Julia “home is wherever we are.” I love that notion, and aim to keep it in my mind when I’m feeling homesick, no matter where I am and no matter where I long to be. The truth is, no place is perfect, not even Oregon. And if the statement “wherever you go there you are” is not the truest sentence ever uttered, than I don’t know what is.

As much as I often wish we lived in Oregon, I know that part of the reason it is so special is because we don’t live there. If I could get that Stumptown latte every day, would it be as sweet? Would a visit with Samudra the baby elephant be as memorable?

Who knows. In the meantime, I'll keep going "home" as often as I can.

So Excited I Almost Can’t Stand It (Alternatively Titled: My Life Really Is This Exciting)

The wait is over. After three months of wandering in the television desert that is "Dating in the Dark," "More to Love" and that American version of the Japanese game show where the people fall down a lot, we have the return of a gorgeous trifecta:

Mad Men (pictured above, premieres tonight)

Top Chef (August 19)

Project Runway (August 20). I'm looking beyond the whole association with Lifetime and am optimistic it will remain sassy.

Be still my heart.

Now if those kids would stop giving me such grief at bed time. Don't they realize I have television responsibilities? Thursday night Leo was awake in his room and reading--no joke, at five minutes to midnight. Can a five-year-old have insomnia? Maybe it was jetlag.

In any case. I heart fall television. And don’t even get me started on the new season of Grey’s Anatomy. Come on, you know it will be so bad, it will be good.

The Cranky Ring Bearer Redeems Himself

We are back from our week in my beautiful hometown, Portland, Oregon. My sister is now a wife, and I have gained a handsome brother-in-law (hi Ryan!).

It was a little hairy and for a few minutes there, I didn’t think it would happen (Leo's participation in the ceremony, not the wedding itself!). Let’s just say the junior members of the wedding party were fast asleep about thirty minutes before the ceremony and a certain little boy does not wake up in a good mood. But in the end, Leo was a model ring bearer.

Since I was in the actual wedding, I couldn’t take any photos of the real deal (these were taken at the rehearsal), but you get the idea. I have some of the kids dressed in their wedding finery that I'll post later.

Ellie held hands with the other flower girl but when she saw Erin waiting for her at the end of the long aisle, she broke free.

That’s the sweet maid-of-honor in the background who was wonderful with Leo, holding his hand and talking to him the whole way down the aisle. Also, note the snacks. Those helped perk Leo up from his bad, post nap mood. Obviously there were no pretzels during the actual ceremony.

Relaxing, post-rehearsal and pre-rehearsal dinner (aka the great Thai food/maraschino cherry fest of 2009).

We are all tired and happy to be home.

More soon. There is much to tell.

Credit Where Due

As a self-protective measure, perhaps, I know that I often don’t give Leo enough credit. He is whip-smart about many, many things, but I lowered my expectations of him on the day he was born, mostly to prevent myself from getting hurt. Of course I cheer and celebrate his accomplishments and milestones, but I confess (and I realize how bad this sounds) I am endlessly shocked at just how smart he can be. But there are daily reminders, really. Here’s a good example.

Last night at the end of a long, rainy, mostly inside, bouncing-off-the-walls-kind-of Sunday (let's just say I needed that wine by 5 o'clock), I took my place on Leo’s little twin stuffed animal covered bed to read him some books. Ellie had just passed out in her crib with zero protest (that girl was zonked) and Leo, happy to have a little Mommy and Me time, handed me a book starring his favorite, Dora. I sighed (hate her!) but persevered.

I’ll back up a step. Last spring, when I was touring Leo’s prospective school for the fall, they informed me that the children in Leo’s program receive Spanish lessons twice a week. Now I felt this was just a tad absurd. Shouldn't they concentrate on English, a language most of them have not yet mastered?

So as I automatically do when I get to the portion of the Dora books that include Spanish, I pass over the foreign word and say it in English. And last night the word was “abre,” the Spanish word for “open.”

To get the door to open say, open! I read (shamelessly censoring the Spanish)..

Leo looked down at the page, and clear as a bell, said: “Abre!”

Well excuse me, Leo. You caught me, once again.