I think we're ok

Me: Ainslie, later this week, on Friday, we are going to the big kids' school. You get to play for awhile--I'll be there too--and a teacher is going to play with you and maybe ask you some questions, ok?

Ainslie: Ok. What are we going to play?

Me: Well, I'm not sure, but probably lots of things. Can you try everything for the teacher, just so she can see whether you can do it? Like, if she asks you to stack some blocks, can you just show her how?

Ainslie: Ok. I'll stack them all the way to the light!

Me: Great! Thank you! If she asks you questions, you can answer her, ok? Like, if she asks your favorite things to play, or eat, or your favorite stories, you can tell her, ok?

Ainslie: Ok. Let's pretend that you are the teacher and we are there right now.

Me: Ok. Hi, I'm Mrs. Wilson. What is your name?

Ainslie: My name is Ainslie. Ainslie Jane Wilson. I live on Eagle Ridge, Chatham Illinois.

Me: Well, it's nice to meet you. Ainslie, what do you like to play?

Ainslie: I just LOVE to stack blocks! It's so amazing!

Yeah. I think we're ok.

Must Be My Lucky Day

At Sam's Club, you have to have your receipt checked as you walk out the door--so it's Ainslie's job to hold onto it as we leave. Some nice clerks turn the receipt over and draw a happy face. Ainslie loves that. The first time it happened, I must've said, "It's your lucky day!" because now, every time it happens, she gushes, "Must be my lucky day!"

Anyway. Today something great happened. Well, nothing actually happened. Well, some things happened that weren't so great--but I digress. I went in to request a sub for a class next week (reference the not-so-great thing, i.e. a husband who can't be relied on to fill in with child care even though he is MORE than happy for the income, but again, I digress.) While I was talking to my boss, she mentioned more classes for next quarter.

That is a great thing. The thing that has me kind of flabbergasted is that I think I am going to refuse one of them. I am already stretched pretty thin right now. I have had too many days lately where Ainslie watches too much TV. One class meets at night, once a week. That one, I definitely want. The other one is twice a week starting at noon. Yuck. That cuts into waterpark time with friends, plus it means I have to either get a babysitter or ask my in-laws (who would probably say yes) to watch Ainslie. I don't want to. I want to have fun with my monkey this summer before she starts preschool and grows up a little too much. For right now, I don't have to take the class.

I never thought, when I started staying at home, I'd have so much work (I mean the kind that pays money--then there's the other!) I feel like this is some sort of milestone. I have enough contract work (that I do mostly when Ainslie is asleep) that I don't have to teach both sections. Lucky me!

No Idea Where She Gets It

"Grammie, I was talking and talking at gymnastics yesterday and do you know what Ms Kathy did tell me? She said I am a...a...a...Motormouse!"

Dedicated to Tammy: Chiropractic Nirvana

Ahhhhhhh.
I've seen a chiropractor 3 times now and ahhhhhh. Slept like a rock last night. The pinched nerve in my neck that has been making my hands go numb for months is slowly getting unpinched. Traction rocks.

Anyway, Tammy, my friend, have YOU called a chiropractor yet? Your post several weeks ago about taking care of yourself has really been inspiring me lately--I'm also getting a haircut in 50 minutes, by the way.

You Lost Me At "Babysitter."

I don't know whether anyone remembers my story about the student (who is in his 30's) who I hadn't met all quarter, who then e-mailed me the next-to-last week of class telling me how important his job is and how although he had never been to my class, he knew everything and would like to take the final and pass the class...? Maybe I posted it on PALP---anyway, he strikes again!

Last night, he actually showed up in a different class on Week 2 of the quarter! After class, he approached me and gave me the "my -job- is- so- important -I- work- at -the -mercy -of- the -legislative- session- because- I- am- a -lobbyist" spiel. My attitude is, if you don't have time to take a class, don't sign up for it.

Anyway, I very sweetly explained to him that I completely understand where he is coming from. I also have other commitments--I do consulting work at all hours of the clock and stay home full time with a child--yet since I committed to teach this class, I get to class.

"Yeah, but...is it really that important that I actually be present in class? I mean, this is my second career and all and I already know the information..."

(Silently) "Oh, really, you little pipsqueak?" (Aloud) "Look, B, everyone in here has other commitments. Yet, we make it to class. You will be graded by the same syllabus requirements as everyone else. If my husband can't get home in time, or I can't get a babysitter, I still have to find a way to get here, because I said I would."

"Oh, wow, if only I could get a babysitter to do MY JOB."


Alrighty then. We're on.

Words of Wisdom

Ainslie: Mom, chicken nuggets are just like candy.
Me: Really? Why do you think so?
Ainslie: Because if you eat too many you get sick and throw up.

The Power of Generosity

The project I am working on right now is based on Keith Ferrazzi's book, Never Eat Alone, and it talks about how relationships are the key to success in life. One of the cornerstones of this philosophy is Be Generous and Give--and Don't Keep Score. Without getting into the boring details (unless you are an ID geek) of the course, let me just say that I have been really focusing lately on how other peoples' generosity toward me has put me where I am--which is usually a pretty good place.

Today, I'd just like to give a few shout-outs of thanks.

To Wade, without your 'in' at the CPD (and you sharing that with me) I may not have gotten that job, which means I may never have been Training Manager anywhere yet. Also, because of your generosity of bringing me into that first project, I am living my dream of working AND being a SAHM. Thank You!

To my parents and in-laws--thank you for taking care of Ainslie as often as you do so I can Have It All, without worrying.

To Holly--Thank you for being so generous to Ainslie and I that first week at ballet--and ever since! Thank you for sharing such a fun group of moms and kiddos with us. You don't know how much that has helped us feel at home!

To Tracy--Thank you for being The One Who Knows Everything About Moving to Chatham. Without your generous sharing of information I would know much less about preschools, swimming lessons, the library, furniture stores, and Knight's!

To Jena and Heather--Thanks for, well, Everything! Mostly for listening. I know best friends are supposed to be generous with support, but you guys are superstars. Oh, and Jena, thanks for making me read Harry Potter. What would I be without Harry in my life?

To Suzi, Candy and Heather--thanks for being generous with friendship and sarcasm. :-)

To PALP and everyone there--Thank You for saving my sanity (for real) over the past 6 years. I'm not sure Ainslie would be here if it weren't for the support and friendship you've shared.

I'm probably missing people. My point is that I really feel so blessed and humbled, and also inspired to be generous myself, with friendship, information, job leads, and even things as simple as smiles.

Mother of the Bride

During a big family love-in/snugglefest last week, Craig says, "Oh, Ainslie, you are going to live with Mommy and Daddy forever, aren't you?"

Ainslie: Yes. No. I'm going to get married.
Me: You are? To whom?
Ainslie: To a boy. When I'm bigger.
Craig: When you're at least 30.
Ainslie: Yeah. And I'm going to wear a long, beautiful Marry dress.
Me: You are?
Ainslie: Yes. Or wait. Mommy, may I just wear my Easter dress?
Me: Sure.

Real Mothers...

I was tagged for this by one of my favorite bloggers (and favorite people I've never met in real life).
The rules state that you post something that goes sort of like this:

Real Mothers blah blah blah. And then add a photo. (or maybe not).
The blah blah blah length is at your discretion.

You know, Real Mothers (ok, most mothers) do a lot of crap.

I'm going to go with this one--
Real Mothers carry on conversations as fictional characters and then analyze the lives of fairy-tale princesses, post-fairy tale. With people not old enough to have developed strong logic skills.

Exhibit A
Date: April 27
Time: Evening
All around the neighborhood on the new bike, as Wendy and Mrs. Darling, speaking in really horrible British accents.
"Motha, do you think I can fly with pixie dust on my new bike? Do you think I can fly all the way back to Neverland?"
"Of course, Wendy, dear, if you think enough happy thoughts, you can fly anywhere." (I may have gotten this flying method confused with Mary Poppins, but she bought it. Same accent, anyway.)
Etc.

Exhibit C
Date: April 24
Time: All. Flipping. Morning. In. The. Car. Driving. To. Chicago.
Ainslie was Ariel. Everything she talked about had to do with Ariel, and her worldview. I had to have some fun, so I asked her if she ever sees her father or sisters anymore. Of course she does! She meets them-- in a boat!
What about Flounder? Did she just write him off?
Of course not! He lives in the sea, right beside her castle!
Does she ever dream about being a mermaid again? Does she have recurring dreams about not being able to breathe the air above the surface.
No.
And, she told Scuttle that it's not a dinglehopper, it's a fork.

Exhibit C, D, E...Z
Date: Almost Daily
Time: Any time we are in public
"What's your name? My name is (fill in the Princess.)"

Cinderella takes the mice to live with her, Snow White occasionally visits the dwarves, and Aurora does not like being called Briar Rose, in case you were wondering.






I just have to add, as sort of an Honorable Mention list, that Real Mothers also wear small ponytail holders around their fingers, carry toddler sized underpants through airport security, sing The Potty Song in the grocery store, and fall into bed, exhausted most nights. Often, on top of some small, sharp, plastic toy.

Tag:
Holly
Suzi
Annie

Ahhhhhhhhh.

Both cars are parked in the garage! The garage door no longer plays the theme to Sanford and Son as it goes up and down! (It was so full of half put-together deck furniture and boxes that it was embarassing to open it during daylight.) The weather is back to Spring, the deck furniture is on the deck, the grill has been fired up and, ahhhhhhh.

Last night we had Craig's family over to grill and ahhhhhh. I always like having people over, but really, after *that* 9 months, I relish having people over in (or outside of) our Own Home.

Seemed like a perfect opportunity to open that bottle of $$$$ wine we've been saving for a special occasion. Wine. Steak. Ainslie and Ben running around. Warm Weather. Cheesecake. Ahhhhhhhh.

Right Place, Right Time

So, this past week I was in Northern Virginia piloting a class we are developing. It was designed for a group of trainers and instructional designers, so we were preaching to the choir, and it was wonderful. Although I missed my little family, of course, it was a somewhat nice change to do what I do and be with adults...

So, twice over the four days I was there I heard people vehemently complain about thir jobs and professions (nobody at our class though, hmmm) and I was struck by how blessed and lucky I am right now. I love my jobs. Being Ainslie's mommy is the best job I could hope for, and yet, I have this other great job where I get to keep my resume up-to-date, travel a bit (and see best friends for free!) and make some pretty great money.

I was there to "mirror" our project manager and take notes on the feedback we were getting from the pilot, and then I will be certified to facilitate it on my own in the future, but for all practical purposes, I was there as Second Banana. I had twinges of Competitiveness, because I think that is just how I am--I want the responsibility, the work, and yes, ultimately, the recognition. Or do I? Right now?

It hit me again--how lucky I am. I have this great part-time job where I don't have to be in charge, 'handle' touchy clients, or stay up all night working (too often.) I have the freedom to say that I can only handle working 20 hours a week (and that stretches my emotional resources) right now. AND, I know there is more work available if and when I am ready to tackle a larger role.

How wonderful is that? Kids are only little once. For Right Now, this is the Right amount of responsibility for me.

French Minor at Work

As hard as it may be to believe, I seldom get to use all the French I acquired once upon a time in undergrad here on the Prairie--other than being able to read wine bottles.

Well, today I am glad to be somewhat francophonic. I saved one of Ainslie's little boutiquey dresses from the dryer, thanks to my deft international reading skills.

Six Years

As of today, April 12, I have been a member of an exclusive club (that I wouldn't wish on anyone) of mothers who have lost babies. April 12, 2001, I had my first miscarriage.
Now, after six years, Of course I remember how heartbroken I was and I will never, ever forget the horror of the next 2.5 years, trying so desperately to get pregnant again...but this post isn't a pity party. Really.

What I was wondering this morning is this: Am I really a different kind of mother because of what we went through to have Ainslie?

I've definitely been impacted forever by those years, but really, do I parent differently?

Yes and No.

I think I am more paranoid about safety. I think I tear up more easily when she says and does certain things. I think I see everyday miracles shining through her on a more frequent basis.

On the other hand...
I think I would still have her in all kinds of activities--that is just the way I am. I think I would still be a fiend about early reading skills. I think I would still hold the same basic philosophies about potty training, spanking, foods, etc.

But.
There is that certain, thing, that je ne sais quoi, that PAL sistas know. It's a fierceness with which I love her that is different. I believe that most mothers love their children more fiercely than anyone else ever will, but this is different. In a way, she is my prize, my wonder, my hard-won little bundle of stars that I had to fight tooth and nail for, and that creates its own category of motherly love.

I still think about the what-if. What if I had a five-year old now? Would I still have my monkey? There is no answer to that question, of course. I do know this--if I didn't have this young person in my life; this thinking, reasoning, climbing, jumping person who comes up with things that astound me, frustrate me, crack me up and make me cry with joy, I would not be who I am--not even close.

Then, of course, there are the wonderful friends I have made through the journey of grief, hope, frustration and joy who again, have helped mold me in so many facets of my life. Thank you, ladies.

So, six years later, I miss that first child, but I am profoundly grateful.

Riding home from Peoria

You know what's funny? An almost-3-yr-old's rendition of "Poor Unfortunate Souls" from The Little Mermaid.
"No, mommy, don't sing this part. I'm Ursula. You can be Ariel... Do I help them? yes INDEED!"

Little update

Whew.

Work is either feast or famine, and lately it's been feast--which is great, but so has every other aspect of life. An embrassment of riches, lol.
I really feel blessed to have this work (and the income), but you know, the timing was really, well, interesting.

The House. It's coming along. We still can't park in the garage, but we're getting there. We are starting a pool over which furniture finally arrives first. Of the plethora of items we ordered, we've received 2 chairs and the kitchen table set. No couch, no bed, no dresser. These companies deliver on Thursdays and Fridays so every week it's the Couch Lottery. Some day we'll win. So, we watch tv on a beanbag and the glider from Ainslie's old room.

Ainslie. Getting adjusted to everything. Growing like a weed. (Ok, a flower, she's far too pretty to be a weed.) Yesterday, we enrolled for preschool. It turned out to be quite easy, after all my hemming and hawing over it. Catholic preschool 5 minutes away, we know another family that goes there, the head teacher lives directly behind us. The other family that goes there that we know isn't Catholic either. We visited yesterday and Ainslie walked in like she owned the place, said Good Morning to Mrs. O'Brien and started playing. Ok. I wasn't worried about academics anyway, and I'm sure by the time kindergarten rolls around we'll have mastered Not Taking Things Away From Others and Not Grabbing Other People as well as some reading.

All in all, things are frantic, but good. I never thought I'd be so *happy* to live in a newer construction subdivision. New construction rocks! ;-)

Accidents, and excellent reasoning skills

Ainslie: Why do we need a new lightswitch? (cover)
Me: Daddy cracked the old one when he was putting it back on. He didn't mean to. It was an accident.
Ainslie: Oh. Remember when I pooped at the Y? That was an accident.

Interview with the Atheist

I have this draft saved of an entry I wrote about Hope a few weeks ago. I haven't gotten around to cleaning it up to say exactly what I want to express, what with so many of my hopes being realized lately...

Shifting gears completely, at least for a moment, I want to talk about the people I work with. Working as an independent contractor, I don't always work with other people, except for clients. Usually, this is a perfect arrangement, because I can set my hours for when Ainslie is sleeping. For the foreseeable future however, I am working as part of a team of people from all over the US.

Last year about this time, I was working on a huge, fast-paced national delivery project, and I had the opportunity to get together with my teammates twice, and I was so impressed by the people working for this company. Not only are they smart and talented, they are Good People. As an example, two of the founders/partners are grandparents who, a couple years ago felt called to adopt a child from a very poor part of the world, and ended up adopting FOUR older children, from a vastly different culture--at a time when most people their age are enjoying the freedom of an empty nest.

Last week, I went to a team meeting for the Big Client I am working with now, and again, I was struck by how Good these people are. Smart, Creative, Talented, and Warm, Caring, and Sensitive.

One person, in particular, (whom I also met last year) strikes me as particularly caring, open, and warm. Over lunch one day, he was also called out as the only atheist in the group. Now, most of the rest of us are people of faith (and Christian faith at that)and are pretty open about it with each other. (Did I mention that another of the founders/partners is also an ordained minister?)

So, over lunch, we tried to get W to admit to some inkling of spirituality. He insists he has none. No Higher Power, No souls, No...anything. I asked if I could ask him a question, insisting I wasn't trying to be rude or put him on the spot--actually 2 questions.
1. In his view, are events somehow connected? Does he believe in Fate, or the pull of The Universe?
and
2. What does Hope mean to him?

His answer to the first question is that he thinks that actions impact other actions, like a ripple effect (which I don't think anyone would argue with,) but no, he doesn't believe in any sort of Plan.

My second question left him quiet for a few moments.

You see, to me, Hope is so inextricably tied to Faith. Hopes are almost always prayers. Without my faith, it is difficult to imagine Hope, and as sometimes it feels Hope is all we have, really, it is Faith that gets us through the dark times. So--if you don't have faith, can you have Hope?

He finally answered that to him, Hope is just a wish. A goal to work toward. A bid for good luck. But it stumped him for a moment.

Interesting. At least to me. I still believe he has a soul. A sweet, caring, warm, sensitive soul.

Today we chased a ball across a corn field

far, far, across the corn field. We weren't paying attention as we took a little bike ride down the sidewalk and when we came back, the new Big Pink Ball was gone. Because it is so bright, I saw it winking at us in one of the cornfields that borders us (well, almost borders us, it is behind the neighbors across the street.) So, a hiking and a-mucking we went. Ainslie went piggy-back style as we trudged over the plowed field, seriously, a long way, and then back. A far cry from the city limits of Chicago!

Really, though, we are thrilled with the neighborhood. The neighbors are so friendly and everyone is out playing with their kids after school on nice days. Ainslie is the youngest, but the older kids are so great with her--that's why we lost the ball, we were chatting with a hilarious kindergartner from 3 houses up ("I saw you guys got a new refrigerator. How do you like it so far?") G across the street is 10 and the only other girl and has taken to Ainslie like a big sister, and Ainslie has already invited her to her birthday party. Not bad for less than 2 weeks.

Soon, the furniture will be here, work will calm down a little bit and we can just enjoy. Meanwhile, I am incredibly grateful every morning when I get up and walk into my kitchen, where my coffeepot has already brewed my coffee, which I pour into my mugs.

So happy and relieved!

We are officially homeless for a few more hours. Never thought I'd be happy about that!
Just spoke with one of the WONDERFUL people at WaMu and she has everything just about ready for our 4pm closing. YAY! 13 days ago, the mad rush began.

In a few short hours we will own a nice, modern, spacious house in a good school district, close to family, and with a smaller mortgage! YAY! God IS Good. ;-)

I can't wait for Ainslie to get here and see her new room. I've put off ordering a headboard (I'm considering making her one...) but I got her a bedframe, quilt, blanket, and of course she has her princess sheets (plus I found a nice match-the- blanket set at Kohls for--get this--$4.50! Thank you, clearance!) I'm hoping she'll love her new purple room.

Things will continue to be crazy at least until the 21st, but then they should calm down a wee bit, at least I won't have to travel after that (fingers crossed), and really, that's only three weeks.

Which reminds me, it's March! Happy Birthday Luke, Kaitlyn, Ashley, Lauren...hope I'm not forgetting anyone! You know what's great about March? Ah, the first day of Spring! I am a dyed-in-the-wool Midwesterner, but oh how I abhor winter.

Another great thing about March is that in 2 weeks we are going to see the Princesses on Ice. Oh, I just can't wait to see Ainslie's face! Who would ever have thought Craig and I would be so excited to go to one of these?

All in all, things are looking UP. Hopefully there will be no more whining from me for awhile.

Countdown to Deathly Hallows

and another Peanut Gallery comment from me today

I find it annoying that I have to change into "professional attire" to go teach at night. Somehow, it would be easier to do first thing in the morning, but after spending the whole day in jeans or yoga pants, it's so haaaaard to change into real clothes. Poor me. ;-)

Note to Self (and Suzi)

Those cute little cans of Diet Coke? Pl-ease. Not even close.

Shhhhhhhhhhhh...

I shouldn't spend the money, and I don't really have the time, but in between having a deadline on a portion of a project tonight, running some house errands, and packing up our stuff here, I'm getting a massage!

Heehee!

A very very very fine house

So, I have another tab open with all the work I need to be doing with my Ainslie-free days here (although I'd rather have her with me!), but I need a moment to catch up with myself and anyone else who happens along my rambling.

The house is empty. I didn't think I'd be sad, but closing the doors felt bittersweet. We joked all weekend about 'who would buy this house?', but really, it's a great little house. It's on a great block with wonderful neighbors. It's the house we finally got pregnant and became parents in. It's the place Ainslie took her first steps--I'll never forget the sound of her tentative clomp, clomp, clomping up behind me there in the kitchen.

I loved the screened-in back porch and the patio. I loved the countless evenings we spent hanging out back there, neighbors wandering in and out, sometimes with a bottle of wine. I loved the laundry chute.

Anyway, for a small family, we really filled that house, and with more than love. I thought I'd given away a ton of stuff, but holy cow--we have a lot of things. Or maybe the truck is just too small. ;-) Anyway, we have to make a trip back up to collect some things from a neighbor's garage.

Speaking of stuff, I can't wait to have mine back. Have I lived without it for the past 9 months? Of course, and I could live the rest of my life without it, but you know, it's mine. My favorite coffee cups. My dishes. My towels. Just to have things back and organized in closets and cabinets instead of boxes--priceless.

What did I learn this past year? What was I supposed to have learned? Well, I learned that home really is where you live with your own little family. When we first started looking at houses here, we would drive through subdivisions and declare whether they were Too Expensive, About Our Speed, or We Can Do Better Than That. Well, for what it's worth, I've learned that ANY house can be a home, and any house looks pretty darned good after you've lived without one for awhile.

I've learned that children are even more resilient than I knew. I've learned about new kinds of mommy guilt. I've learned a lot about my in-laws, and therefore, my husband. Yeah, new light was shed on many idiosynchracies, lol.

I learned that living with more than 1 or 2 pets is just not for me. I learned that I guess you can do anything when you have too. I learned (well, learned again) that God listens and has a plan. I also learned again that I'm perhaps not always a fan of the part of the plan that involves me being patient. ;-)

So--I need to send some faxes and cross everything and pray hard that our closings go without any hitches! My St. Louis trip got pushed back a bit, so I have a couple more days to unpack next week, so phew.

Now I really need to get to work!

When it Rains...

Last week at this time I was bored. Well, maybe a little excited about moving if we successfully made a lease agreement on our house, but definitely understimulated. The past several days have been a flurry. Now, here is my schedule:

Tomorrow--take Ainslie to meet my mom 2.5 hours away. Say goodbye to my Heart for 10 days.
Tomorrow night, 2/21--begin teaching a new class at RMC, then drive to Chicago with Craig, get in around midnight.
Thursday and Friday 2/22, 2/23--pack the house, finding time somewhere to meet with our attorney.
Saturday 2/24--move
Sunday-Wednesday 2/25-2/28 --develop learning objectives for a new project I was just assigned to that is SO wonderful but starting at such a rough time. Pack up our rooms here. Stress about closings happening. Physically go to the Village office to have the electricity switched to our names.
Thursday 3/1--buy a house
Friday 3/2--move in
Saturday-Sunday 3/3, 3/4--unpack, get my GIRL back!
Monday 3/5--unpack, get cable and internet installed.
Tuesday-Wednesday 3/6, 3/7--go to &*%%^ St Louis for 2 days, after JUST getting my baby girl back, for the project kickoff.
3/8----- work almost FT on this project, which is wonderful in terms of affording new furniture, just wish it could maybe start a little later.
3/18-3/20 -go to Maryland for rescheduled film shoot
3/22--girls' night in Galena--WHOOHOO. (Can we get massages?)

More things I love about our new house

Really, after owning a 2-bedroom condo and a 50+ year-old bungalow in the city, there are so many modern touches we are looking forward to living with. I must list them!

* Master bedroom with awesome bath
* Double sinks!
* Lots of closet space everywhere
* More kitchen counterspace and cabinets than I've ever had before
* A fireplace!
* Attached garage!
* Not just 2, but THREE full baths!
* Main floor laundry room
* a room just for toys
* did I mention closet space?
* open floor plan

Now, to get busy following up on all of Friday's phone calls...

Adrenaline!

No sleep and lots of coffee--is that why I'm so jittery? No silly, I"m jittery because I'm so excited and I'm loopy on relief and happiness! Even the forecast has temps in the 50's in a few days!

So much to do...

Why isn't the rest of the world up and ready to take my urgent phone calls this early?

Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalaaaaaaaaa!

Lots of calls to make, playdate (with a new friend we will be living SO close to) this morning, then making the offer on the house at 2:30...hope to find out today whether we can move in before the closing...more calls to make...fun window shopping this weekend for a fridge and paint colors because we can afford to paint! We're going for sort of a "Hemingway in his Key West period" theme in the living room. What color would you paint?

Have I mentioned WHOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO?

Celebration!

If you haven't read it on a message board or in an e-mail, let me just say:

OUR HOUSE IS SOLD!

They want to close at the end of THIS month. The one that is half over. OK! They could have asked for all the furniture and we'd have said, SURE, at this point!

In a few weeks:

Ainslie can be as loud as she needs to be
I don't have to wear a robe out of modesty all the time
I won't have to carry my clothes into the bathroom with me
I will have a closet!
I won't have to lock the bathroom door and listen to Ainslie turning the knob and trying to get in--she can just meander in and out
I can decorate for Easter!
I can plan Ainslie's b-day party
I can organize play dates at OUR house
NO gates to keep dogs corralled
NO dobermans
I can grocery shop and cook like a normal person again

Relieved. Thrilled. Grateful. Happy. Exhausted!

Thanks, Walt!

"Mom, I can't find my Snow White shirt and it's breaking my heart."

"Mom, do you like my new dress? I got it at the store yesterday." (head toss) "Do you like my long yellow hair?"

Again, thank you Disney...?

God makes them cute for a reason

Terrible Twos. We've always said we'd rather have a Bart Simpson than a Martin Prince, and boy, do we. No fear. No fear of parental consequences either. The past few days (in part because of the weather) have been peppered with what I call fits of the 2-yr crazies. The running and screaming and refusal to listen and follow directions...

I know things would be better in our own house (maybe really soon!?), where she can run and scream and not bother anyone but me during the day, but really, sometimes I expect pea soup.

So then, she does something heartbreaking.

I love to listed to her talk to Baby. She is so sweet and nurturing as she says things like, "oh, my precious baby daughter" and "don't worry, hon, mommy's here..." It almost brings tears to my eyes and makes me forget the throwing of 5 puzzles across the bedroom, or the thousands of rubber bands she set free...

And then. She finally gave Baby a name, after 14 months. Carla. "Like my mommy."

And one funny moment for my Illinois friends...

At the rally, Senator Durbin (The warm-up act, lol) was announcing some of the people present...

Mayor of Springfield...yayyyyy
Elected state officials....yayyyyy
Governer Blago... ehh. The apathy was deafening. ;-)

The Audacity...

Funny, I've been writing a whole other post about Hope. Then, this morning, we went to see Barack Obama announce his candidacy for the presidency.

Wow.

I felt so...inspired. Proud. Hopeful. I'm not saying right now that Obama will or even should be our next president, there is still a long time left until the 2008 election, but so far, I like the man I've seen and heard.

He is intelligent and articulate; but so are many people. He is warm. Again, so are many others. He talks about the issues most voters care about--so do all politicians. In spite of all these similarities to most other politicians, something about him just shines. He resonates sincerity. He seems to have entered public service and politics for more of the right reasons than any other national political figure I've ever heard speak, and having worked downtown Chicago for several years, I've seen my share of live rallies.

He speaks proudly of his Christian faith without condemning or marginalizing those who do not share it. He speaks of uniting this country. He did not speak one word, not one personal allusion, against any opponent, from either party.

He did speak out about Iraq, and the mistakes he thinks the current administration has made; but instead of continuing to lay blame and take cheap shots, he talked about how we can end our involvement realistically.

I'm not doing him justice at all. Let me just say that for the first time in years, standing in the cold with Ainslie climbing all over me (you WILL witness history, young lady!), in the same place Lincoln announced his candidacy, I felt so proud to be a voter in this country. Whether Obama is nominated, much less wins, is yet to be seen, but flag-waving, hooping and hollering, uniting, gatherings like this, so full of excitement and hope, have been too few in the past few years.

How far south have we moved, anyway?

Ainslie used a Hickcent last night, out of the blue. We were finishing bathtime, and she says, "Mawmmy, late's go put my jaamie's on."
After giggling, I asked her why she was talking like that.
"Because ay waant to."
So I asked her who she's heard talk like that...
"Thaat mane who sangs 'My Grandpa, He's 95."

Steve Miller Band. Dance, Dance, Dance--her favorite song from Daddy's mix cd last summer. Great.

(Ainslie) Jane of the Jungle

I thought we were done with the climbing.

Last night, really, it had only been about a minute--I tested the bath water for temperature, stepped out into the hall and found a trail of clothing, shoes, and hair accessories leading to our bedroom, where Naked Ainslie was poised to jump off the bed onto the diaper pail she'd placed perilously far from the bed and close to the door facing. With a wild shriek, there she went. BOING...Boing...boom.
Bewildered, I asked my miraculously unhurt monkey, "What are you doing?" Dumb question, I know. The answer consisted of another jungle-girl shriek and running away, down the hall.

This morning, the potty chair had been moved near the dresser, and I caught her just as she was trying to balance the nefarious diaper pail on top of the potty. You see, there is hand lotion, waaaay up high. Potty chair, your job is officially over. Ainslie can make her way to the big potty every time from now on. Diaper pail, you weren't pulling your weight anymore anyway, with just a few nighttime wet pull-ups.

Now what? Suction cups?

Alchemy

A child can't actually turn into a chicken nugget, right?

January is over, optimism is building

Who really likes January anyway? The best thing about February 1 is that January is o-ver.



Today the high in Chicago is 6, and we have a showing! We also start a contract with a realtor I am over the moon for next Sunday. He sells about 70% of the property in our neighborhood. I know it's terrible to say, but I so wish we'd listed with him in the first place. Water under the bridge now, but he's actually been in most of the houses we are competing with, so he knows what is what.



My parents are keeping Ainslie for me while I go to Maryland and I am grateful and I am going to stop worrying. I also get to spend some quality girlfriend time with Jena while I'm out there and that will be wonderful.



One more thing to be happy about--we got our pictures back 2 days early. Not showing Craig is driving me crazy--

Babbling

I just need to post a catch-up entry for myself, to sort out the cobwebs that are beginning to form.

Where to begin? The easiest place is usually with Ainslie. This morning, she was asked to try the 3-4 yr-old gymnastics class tomorrow morning. She just isn't being challenged in her current class. The test will be to see if she can behave without me down there with her. I think she can, but the question is will she? She knows one of the boys from her former class, and I really enjoy talking to his mom, so I'm looking forward to it.

This brings me back to the topic of preschool. It seems to be all my mommy friends can talk about lately. Everyone seems so excited about starting in the fall (most of our Little Friends turn 3 in spring or summer this year.) I just don't know. I was all set and kind of psyched to check out a couple of the Montessori schools, but I worry about the locations because I don't know where we will be living. Frustrating. I don't know why I feel so opposed to traditional preschool--I guess I just think that 1) Ainslie will be sitting in a chair listening to teachers for 20+ years, 2) Child-led education seems like a better way to ensure a life-long love of learning, and 3) I think Ainslie would thrive in a less structured setting.

I'll stop short of bragging this time, but really, hard academics are not a concern. Listening to a teacher is getting better (although we'll see tomorrow.) Playing with other children has improved greatly in the past 6 months (of course it has, she's maturing normally.) So, I guess I'm still wondering if we need preschool in the fall. On days when I lean toward it, I wonder if it is just peer pressure. Really, wouldn't Ainslie do just as well doing gymnastics and one other activity a couple mornings a week? She's writing her letters, for Pete's sake! On the other hand, am I doing her a disservice by not letting her further explore her interests in a place that has exciting learning centers to discover?

This is hard.

In other news, I start teaching again in a couple weeks. This quarter I'll be teaching Career Development; writing resumes, interviewing, job searching, etc. I love this stuff. Now, I just need a morning where I'm dressed appropriately enough to go pick up the materials. One thing I LOVE about teaching here is the syllabus is already written. Cakewalk!

In other work news, I am supposed to go to Maryland at the end of February for the film shoot of a video we've been scripting. I'm really excited to go play Production Assistant for a few days. The downside is (Tammy...) childcare. My parents are more than happy to take Ainslie, but it seems so silly to have them meet me in St. Louis twice over such a short period of time. If we only had our own house...

And the house.
I'm hoping and praying the last people who looked put in an offer this weekend. Hey, it could happen. Meanwhile, we're interviewing replacement realtors Friday morning. We need our own space, and there is a dog living here that I am just about to kill. Seriously.A shot of Lily's insulin and it would be all over.

Two of the houses we were really interested in have sold, but there are others. All prayers welcome.

Arts and Literature

A: Draw me a picture, mommy.
Me: What would you like me to draw?
A: Ummmm, a butterfly!
(I oblige.)
Me: Now, what will you draw?
A: I'll make a butterfly too!
(She does a surprisingly good impression of mine, only much smaller.)
Me: Ainslie, that's wonderful! Good job!
A: Mom, it's a lower-case butterfly.

Picasso of the Alphabet

After 2 less-than-flattering preschooler posts in a row, I think it's time for a shameless brag.

Really, really shameless.

Ainslie is learning to write! I am so pleased. For someone who tells me the 'right' way to color is to scrub a whole crayola's worth of some unnatural color onto one part of a picture, I think she does a great job.

So far, she can accurately and recognizably write O,o (of course), H, E, e ("wook! A wower case 'e', mom!")F, T, t, I, i, X, x, and y. A and V are getting there, but she doesn't quite understand how to leave the marker on the paper, so she picks it up and starts the other line quite a ways away from the first one. We are working on a and Q as well, but I think she doesn't like to mess up her nice round O's.

She also draws a stellar Happy Face.

I trust that by the time she goes to college the coloring thing will have improved a little.

Cage Match

I remember reading, in horror, stories of terrible people who were found keeping their children in cages. How could someone do that? I'm now beginning to wonder whether they were on to something.

Ainslie was moved out of her crib because she was vaulting over the side rail; obviously this was unsafe. Now, she is in a twin bed that she has been getting out of for 2 hours straight the past 3 nights. If I only had a 'lid' for her bed. Maybe something like this already exists? I'm off to Google. If not, I think there is an untapped market for Child Cages, cleverly disguised in bold or pastel colors as 'bed buddies' or something like that.

There was a little girl, who had a little curl...

Remember the rest of this nursery rhyme? I live with the subject. When she is good, she is very, very good, and the rest of the time, well, she's 2 and a half. For the first time last night, I identified with some of the old-time-fundamentalist-tent-revival folks who think naughty children need demons cast out of them! Seriously, she was downright impish, and not in the cute way. I took away dress-up clothes, then the easel and art supplies, tried time-out (would you believe she got OUT OF THE CHAIR five times in a row?!) and nothing phased her. I'll even admit that I spanked her, and still, no reaction (which just makes my belief that spanking doesn't do any good that much stronger.)

I know they've been called the Terrible Twos for generations, and most people tell me three is even worse. I know she is developing emotionally and is only 31 months old. I know it is my job (one that I prayed for for years) to get us all through this, but YIKES.

So last night, after screaming through the furniture store, trying to wipe the dogs' noses with kleenex after being told not to a dozen times (the dogs loved that), whining, whining, and more screaming, disagreeing with everything she was told, the time-out incident, and getting out of bed 5 million times, finally, at 10 pm she appears to be un-possessed for a minute. I held her and told her that I love her more than anything in the whole wide world, even when her behavior is bad and I am upset with her. I told her that because I love her I have to make sure she doesn't grow up to be a brat, but a nice girl and a loving person. Her response? "Like you, mommy?' Awwwwwwwwww. Sincerity or cleverly outwitting me?

A tonic for the spirit....and the spirits mixed with tonic didn't hurt!

I'm better now. Ignoring reality for a week with Craig was just what we needed. We've never taken such a laid-back vacation before, and really, it was perfect. The weather was 80-85 degrees and sunny every day, we ate too much, probably drank too much, laughed a lot, and got lots of sun. We swam in the ocean and parasailed above it (that was the biggest highlight!) We got dressed in grown-up clothes and ate long fancy dinners where nobody was screaming. During the day we wore swimsuits under our clothes. We worked out each day in the fitness center and still managed to gain a few pounds each, and we don't even care. We've been talking a lot about doing this one more time next year, before Ainslie is really old enough to enjoy a family trip somewhere.



Of course, we missed Ainslie like crazy, but each time we called her at Grammie and Grampie's house she was "playing the piano and singing twinkle, twinkle, so I'll have to call you back" or only had enough time to say, "I love you too, here's Grammie" so I think she was just fine. We did all enjoy quite the snugglefest when we picked her up, but I think a good time was had by all.



Our house had two showings while we were gone--not bad for an ice storm. We are supposed to interview realtors next weekend.



Here are a few pictures of our week in Winter Paradise. I keep laughing, thinking about those Celebrity commercials where the guy is in his office, back from his cruise, and says, "I think of this as a temporary exile." True! Reality at 20 degrees and no buffets is a little rough.

I can't even cry anymore

Too much time on my hands today, apparently.

I have just needed to have a good cry lately, and I can't. I am the person who cries at everything. Seriously, someone looks at me wrong and I fall apart. I hear a sad song and cry in public. Now, I can't. Maybe having to be on best behavior while we're living here has done that to me, maybe that part of me just isn't reachable right now. Now, see this, typing that, I well up, I want to cry...I just can't.

I am so TIRED of living like this! I want my own space, my own towels, and I don't want Ainslie to have to be so quiet in the mornings. I want to be able to cook and bake on cold days and make a huge mess in my kitchen. I want a freaking closet.

I want SOMETHING to change. Why did we do this? What have we gotten ourselves into? When can the next part of life please start?

I don't know what to do. I pray and pray and pray and apparently, us selling our house just isn't part of the plan. I pray for patience, and so far, well...I'm writing this post, so what does that say?

I want out of this limbo. I want a house. I want to pay off the debt we've accrued (which we will do when the d*&^ house sells.) I want to live in house with fewer than 9 animals. I want to grocery shop and cook like a normal person. I want to stay home some mornings. I want to cry.

Crossing the aisle

In the past, I have been a world-class clearance shopper for Ainslie. So far, I have been on-the-money at guessing what size she will be in a year later, as I've cleaned up at several stores' end of season blowouts, including those at the Michigan Avenue flagship Gap store, when I was still working downtown (and last year when I wasn't!) It has been such a rush to leave the stores with TONS of cute clothes from higher-end stores for less than what I would have paid at Target of Kohls (not that I don't hit their sales too!)



Anyway, it may be the end of an era. Besides the fact that money and space are short right now, so are some of Ainslie's pants. The 3's I bought her for this spring fit now, with no length to spare. I've only been buying 4T's lately. This morning in Kohl's I was perusing some of the Christmassy dresses, thinking of next year, and I got a horrible sick feeling in my stomach. Ainslie probably won't even be in toddler sizes by fall/winter/Christmas.



How did this happen? Why is it so sad to think about moving across the aisle to 4-6x? How did my little dream baby get to be this amazing person who talks and thinks and climbs and negotiates?



I look at her sometimes and I think, ok, if this is it, if we don't get to have another child, I can learn to live with that. Look at her; she's spun-gold perfection. On the other hand, I really feel that our family is not yet complete.



I guess I'm getting ahead of myself. We aren't even earnestly TTC, the old fear just doesn't go away. Meanwhile, thank goodness Gymboree's lines stay basically the same from toddlers to girls'.

www.dictionary.kid

"Along came a spider, who sat down beside her, and meetened Miss Muffett away."

"What does meetened mean?"

Sigh. "Mo-om. It means he CHASED her!"

Ugh.

It's been a bleak couple of days. It's been hard to summon my usually positive attitude--I feel so heavy, stressed, and worried about everything. I'm hoping the darkest hour is just before the dawn, but meanwhile, I could use a couple of slaps and a reminder to put on my big-girl pants.

Ready to Go

Ah. January 2. I've never been a fan of January, per se, (snow after Christmas is not welcome in my world) but there is something nice about January 2. I'm not the kind of person who can stay in pajamas all day; I need to get shaking in the morning, and as much as I love the Christmas holidays, there is something refreshing about January 2. This is the day to start things up again, to get moving, to look at a fresh year getting ready to unfold.

I like change. I like new things. The trouble is when I am ready for change, but change hasn't happened yet. Here I sit, perched on this promising January 2, and I'm relatively powerless to move toward the things I would like to happen this year. For all practical purposes, I could still be in my pajamas, but I'm not. I'm dressed "down to my shoes" as Flylady says, and I'm waiting. Whenever changes arrive, I'm ready.

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not to thine own under standing. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6

Badges of Honor

Lady on the leg press machine: I can tell you're a mom.

Me: Oh? How?

Lady: You have stickers on your back.

Ainslie's first joke

She actually made this up at the pediatrician's office on October 23, and she says it the same every time. The inspiration was a picture of a bunch of different nursery rhyme characters. A cat just happened to be sharing the wall with Humpty Dumpty.

Without further ado, here is the joke:

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a...cat!
(beat) (beat)
I didn't know he had a pet! (followed by hysterical laughter)

Seven months today

Seven months today since our house was listed...
I never dreamed it would take this long. If we'd known, we wouldn't have done this; which in a strange way makes me feel that actually we are where we're supposed to be. Again, things were looking bleak, and then today something happened. Something small, but meaningful, and I choose to take that as a sign to hang in there a little longer.

I really, really wish the house would sell NOW for an extra reason, and that is we agreed with Aunt Barb to find a different realtor if the house doesn't sell by the end of the year, and I hate to fire family. I KNOW she has done everything she can do to help us, and I know she is a pro with an excellent record over the past 25+ years, but on the other hand, we have to sell our house, and changing to a more local agent is the one thing we haven't tried.

So. Baby Steps. Living with family has actually become somewhat easier, but the Not Having My Own House issues are seriously causing me a little bit of what I can only guess is depression. I feel a little blah--and I don't think drugs will help because I KNOW what will make it go away. So, I take baby steps. Today was our mom's group Christmas party and it was very fun, and so nice for Ainslie to be with a bunch of kids her age where she can just run and play. A week from today we leave for KC. Week after that we have a few things going on, then I have to go home to Chicago to interview agents, I guess. Then we leave for our cruise. Hopefully after that I'll have to go back to Chicago to pack...

A service of Lessons and Carols

Parenting is an awesome responsibility, fraught with tough decisions, lessons to teach, battles to pick, etc., all in the hopes of raising loving, responsible, productive members of society.

Today, it's been just plain funny.

Today, we had two Hilarious Teaching Moments while out running errands, both in response to me overteaching the meaning of some Christmas carols.

First, "Do You Hear What I Hear", as we searched for parking...

Me (getting her out of the carseat): Did you hear that? A child shivers in the cold! Do you know who that child was? It was Baby Jesus! Remember, how he was born in a barn?

Ainslie: Yeah...

Me: It must have been cold, being outside (never mind that it was the Middle East...). And here He is, a little baby, and people are bringing him gifts of silver and gold...

Ainslie: Holy Cow! That's Amazing!

(I can only attribute that response to Veggie Tales. She routinely babbles to herself, "That was amazing. I laughed, I cried, it moved me, Bob.")


Then, in Dick's Sporting Goods, we heard "The Little Drummer Boy". I was singing it as we shopped, and I explained that the little boy was poor, but he still wanted to give something to Jesus, so he used his Gift of Music to play a song, and that made Baby Jesus so happy that He smiled at the little boy.

Ainslie: But mom, could Baby Jesus talk to the little boy? He was just a baby.

Me: You're right. He was a baby, so he couldn't talk, but he smiled because he liked the music and He was happy the little boy shared his music with Him.

Ainslie: Um hmmm.

Me (pushing it for a 2-yr old): Do you know what that means? It means that we should use the things we are good at to make God happy. So, if you are a really good singer, you should sing joyfully to the Lord! (borrowing from one of our Bible Story books). And....if you are really good at gymnastics, you should...ummm...you should always do your best!

Ainslie: I should do a straddle roll for Him!

Yes!

Books and Covers

While I am in a blogging mood (or maybe I am incredibly BORED, hence the handmade Christmas cards you may have received...), let me talk about some houses we are interested in. With the drop in our asking price, what we can afford has also dwindled a bit, although luckily, the market here trails the Chicago trends by just enough time that we should come out ok. Anyway, there are three houses we are interested in right now.

House Number 1 is gorgeous from the outside. It has a beautiful circular drive and these cute little brick posts with gaslights around the drive. It has a True 3-car garage and a beautiful sloping back yard that abuts (did I spell that right?) a cornfield. There is a nice brick patio going the whole width of the house. It is the most spectacular house in our price range, from the outside. Inside, it is fine. It's large enough. Once we finish the basement (which we would be able to do right away) we would have all the rooms we want. But. But there are some weird things in the floorplan (the powder room and laundry room are right off the family room, on the front of the house) and the kitchen is as tiny as our Chicago kitchen, although I think in time we could open it up a bit. There are a lot of great things about this house, I love the neighborhood and I love the upper floors (yes, floors-plural, it has a wonderful finished attic with windowseats!), and it looks great from the street, but I think the main floor would bug me a bit.

http://www.caaronline-mis.com/spi/jpg/267849.jpg
http://www.caaronline-mis.com/spi/jpg2/267849.jpg

Then there is House Number 2. Ugly from the outside, although with the price reduced nearly $60,000 from when we looked at it, not quite as ugly as I originally thought. By ugly, I really mean, Not What I Would Pick. Dark on the outside, 70's brick arches....but I love the floor plan (despite some unfortunate carpet and wallpaper choices that would have to go before we move in). It is so spacious, and the basement is already finished, and the backyard--gorgeous! A great screened porch leading out to a large deck and then a huge yard backing up to a running path! So, great on the inside, but would I be embarrassed about it from the outside? Is that so shallow?
http://www.caaronline-mis.com/spi/jpg/263999.jpg
http://www.caaronline-mis.com/spi/jpg2/263999.jpg


Then there is House Number 3, which we've never actually looked at. Same neighborhood as House Number 2, but better looking on the outside. Much Better Looking. Great price, bad wallpaper according to the online pics, but a $5000 decor allowance at closing. Floors look good (new hardwood), several French Doored rooms (we love that.) Someday we should actually GO inside.

http://www.caaronline-mis.com/spi/jpg/265533.jpg
http://www.caaronline-mis.com/spi/jpg3/265533.jpg

Anyway, here we are, trying to teach Ainslie never to judge books by their covers, and doing the same thing over inanimate objects. Who wants to live in an ugly house? Would you sacrifice cooking space for curb appeal? Can you have Ugly on the Outside if you could afford to makeover the spacious inside to your exact specifications?

Points to ponder while we wait for this young couple to make an offer. Please?

Please let our house be the Bride this time!

We had two showings over the weekend. One couple is very interested, although they had questions like why has the price been dropped so drastically...? (Ever lived with your in-laws--or anyone-- for 7 months?) Anyway, we are on their Short List. We've been on several lookers' Short Lists before but so far have been Bridesmaids. HOPING for a Christmas wish come true. We bought this house in December, it could happen again!

Meanwhile, here are a few photos of Ainslie at gymnastics last week:

One man's Bacon is another's Meat.

One of my favorite fiction books is called, "Lamb, the gospel of Biff, Christ's childhood friend" by Christopher Moore. This book, while some may find it irreverent at times, really touched me and in one especially poignant scene, brought the Point of my faith out in stunning relief. Basically, for those intrigued by the title, it is the (obviously fictional) account of where Jesus was and what He was doing during the years the Bible doesn't tell us about. In Moore's view, He was learning all the things he needed to know in order to take on the burden of the crucifixion and resurrection. Biff is his very, very human, affable friend who is sent to stay with Jesus (nicknamed Josh) through his travels. Being Jewish, they are not supposed to eat pork, but as they grow and learn, Jesus tells Biff that many parts of the Law are Just Bacon. They are rules that are or were there for a purpose, but are not necessarily the Meat of the Jewish faith.

Craig loves this book too, and we use the term, "Bacon" quite a bit as we discuss our own faith. We were both raised Protestent, but Craig was raised decidedly more High Church (he would be Catholic if I'd let him) and I way more Low Church, and though we have compromised over the years, we both feel more at home in the type of church we grew up in.

So here's my quandary. We have been members of a couple Lutheran ELCA churches over the past few years and I have been pretty happy with them. We have found some good congregations, we love that there is Communion every week, and we feel this denomination's stance on social issues meshes with ours. There is also a ELCA church here that we like--for all the above reasons, plus it runs one of the biggest preschools in town and the congregation is positively teeming with little kids. However, at this church, there is one piece of Bacon (to me, Meat to others) that is specifically spelled out.

My question is this--can one belong to a church and not share faith of one key tenant of that denomination? To me, the tenant is bacon, to them, it is absolutely meat. I do feel it is lying to pledge membership to a church, knowing you don't share this particular belief. On the other hand, I also believe that, well, it is Bacon...

Just some Food for thought, I guess.

Happy Half Birthday!

I had this whole entry planned out for today, about what I have learned over the past two and a half years, it was going to be kind of funny and sweet, but instead...

This morning, in a futile attempt to get Ainslie to go back to sleep at 5:45, I crawled into bed with her, to try to get her to be quiet. She snuggled up to me and said, "I love you, Mommy." I responded with, "I love you, Baby." To which she responded with her very typical (these days), "I'm not a baby, I'm a Big Girl." So I responded with my usual, "but you'll always be my baby girl."

This one was new---her next response was, "Welllll (another new vocabulary staple), I'm a big girl now but in a minute I'll be a grown-up."

I almost started crying right then. She's right.

Happy Half-Birthday, My Baby Girl, and please, please, please stay two-and-a-half for your full allotted time.

Mary Lou Who?

This is going to be a sugary brag, so brace yourselves.

This morning at gymnastics, Kathy asked me, "WHEN does she (meaning Ainslie) turn 3?"

I told her June--she won't even be 2.5 until this Sunday. Kathy says, "Wow--well when she's 3, as long as she has the maturity to behave, I think she can skip KinderGym 1 and go straight to 2--she's already got half the skills for KinderGym 2"

KinderGym 1 and 2 are for 3 and 4-yr olds, respectively. My little gymnast may be skipping a grade in gymnastics!

She really loves it, too. Who knows if she'll stick with it, but for now, it's great for large motor skills as well as learning to take turns, think about safety (running around the gym, jumping OVER the practice beam when someone else is using it...) and to respect the efforts and triumphs of her classmates.

I'm so proud!

Fun--thanks Annie!

I stole this link from your blog, Annie.

You Belong in London

You belong in London, but you belong in many cities... Hong Kong, San Francisco, Sidney. You fit in almost anywhere. And London is diverse and international enough to satisfy many of your tastes. From curry to Shakespeare, London (almost) has it all!

What European City Do You Belong In?

Oh, the things I said I'd never do

1. Purchase Licensed Character Merchandise
Caved: 15 months. Ainslie needed her first pair of 'real' tennis shoes for playing and I resolved to buy some nice generic-ey ones --until she charmed me with shrieking, "Mehlmo Zhues!" in the Toddler Shoe aisle at Kohls. It was so cute. Elmo Shoes it had to be. Since then, we have had Dora and Tinkerbell.

2. Lick my finger and dab the face.
Caved: Shortly after birth, I'm sure.

3. Willingly feed a child McDonalds
Caved: When I realized she would do anything for a french fry. Now it's even worse. I bought her a McDonalds fake food set (which also violates #1) for a stocking stuffer. Why? Because I know she'll get a kick out of it. It encourages pretend play, right?

4. Get into Disney.
Caved: I can't even remember. I think that sneaky Disney marketing just got to Ainslie, despite the fact that she doesn't watch that much tv, and virtually no commercials.

5. Get a dvd player for the car.
Caved: Friday. I realized earlier this year that it isn't even about entertaining the child(ren); it's about protecting the sanity of the parents on long trips.

I'm sure the list will only get longer.

57 days until our vacation

But who's counting?

I'm hanging on to this because I am hopeful that after we look forward to it for so long, then go and come home, our house will have sold and we can focus on moving, thereby avoiding serious clinical depression.

I will miss Ainslie terribly. I will worry. I might cry.

BUT

I will sleep past 6:30 am.
I will read books without pictures.
I will probably gain 10 pounds because I only have to feed myself.
I will not blow on anyone's food.
I will get ready to go somewhere (like to another buffet) in less than an hour and a half.
I will have conversations with Craig and other adults that do not include shouted interjections about climbing, jumping, yelling, or riding the dog.
I will nap.
I will wear makeup.
I will drink. Probably more than is prudent.
I will engage in adult activity without being paged, loudly.

Ah. I will miss my sweet, funny little girl, but today I am counting 57 days.

One slight edit to the post below

I should have told nosy people to back off, regardless of their work/parenting status. :-)

On the other side of the (de)fense

My mom is patently (if subconciously) prejudiced against mothers who choose to work outside of the home. I don't need to watch Dr. Phil to surmise that this is largely because she never did (and never had a "career" because she never finished college and feels somewhat inadequate or whatever about that...but mother/daughter issues are a completely different rant.) She will say things about So-and-So having a large house or taking fancy vacations, and then qualify it with, "Of course, she *worked* (as if the work in question was prostitution) when her kids were growing up." When I mention preschool or some part-time daycare for Ainslie so that I can take on more work, I am met with, "oh, but you'll miss SO much" ...and I am talking 6 hours a week.

Anyhoo. I am not thusly prejudiced. I think we all just do the best we can for our children. Some moms are better moms for working out of the home, some are better at home. I'm thrilled to be able to work on my terms right now.

BUT.

File this under, "Why can't people who have no idea keep their big mouths shut?"
OR
"Why on earth does this bother me so much?"

Lately, I been feeling the reverse SAHM discrimination. Why on earth don't I work and how could I deprive my child of 40 hours of daycare a week? Despite the fact that I DO work about 20 hours a week in my field, I suppose the usual uniform of yoga pants and solid long-sleeved tees give me that Mommy Chic (or NOT) look, so people assume I am a FT SAHM, which is a FINE job description by itself. Why then, if I am FT SAHM would I be dropping off some assignments for students at the college I teach at?

URGH. So here comes today's real story. I had to drop off some tests for two students to make up. I don't teach on Mondays. I run errands and work out on Mondays (because I have no home to clean, etc). I am with Ainslie all day on Mondays. So, I arrived at the building wearing black yoga pants, a shirt, and a zipped-up fleece jacket, hair and face looking ok (not Totally Done but not Just Rolled out of Bed), holding Ainslie's hand and carrying the papers. Ainslie, by the way, had chosen a dress with matching tights and her hair was Done. (She always looks better than I do.) ANYWAY, the women working in the resource center today was probably a full-time faculty member (big whoop, btw, this isn't exactly Ivy League) and after I explained what I was dropping off, she turned to Ainslie and asked her where she went to school. Ainslie said, "I don't go to school yet." very clearly--Ainslie knows about school and that she will go to preschool and then Big School someday.
This woman says, in a very condescending voice, "You don't? How do you learn?" I said, "well, she is not even 2 and a half yet. She learns from me." So then the woman drones on about, "do you go to daycare to play with friends?" "it's so important at this age to play with other kids." "Do you have friends, honey?" Ainslie responds with, "I have my friend Cawowine, and Anna, and..." But I was already completely annoyed. Pardon my French, but WTF?

WHEN did going to daycare become the preferred activity? WHO decided daycare is better than parents? Who did this woman think she was, passive-agressively questioning my choices to my 2-yr old, when she knows nothing about me or Ainslie?


Ainslie will probably go to preschool. For now, she knows a heck of a lot more academically than most other kids her age I've met. She rides a trike and a scooter like a pro, she holds a crayon *almost* the right way, and she can sit cross-legged, that benchmark of preschool skills. She sight-reads quite a few words, she knows how to share (not that she does it), she pretends a lot, she gallops, she...well, not being in daycare doesn't appear to have hindered her.

So, Moms who work outside of the home, BACK OFF. I was once one of you--I support you and your choice, but until you know MY child and her gifts, abilities and schedule, SHUT UP. Apparently, way back when, SOME preschools didn't put enough emphasis on polite conversation.

Pride goeth before Santa Claus

I had one of those, "I'm so proud of my daughter and today I feel I am doing a good job with her" moments as we strolled past a large nativity display in that ultimate Stuffmart, Sam's Club. "Look Mommy, it's Jesus!" Ainslie exclaimed. My heart swelled. Despite the fact that we have put off finding a church home until we get moved, she is learning about God. The Veggie Tales, the songs, the books and the talking are working. Hooray! I was beaming. She gets it!

Three aisles later..."Look Mommy! It's Santa Claus!"

Did you hear my bubble pop?

We'll get it figured out. Hey, I like Santa too, and there is a lot of good to be learned from believing in the guy with the beard.

Jabberwocky

First, let me just state a disclaimer: I know how blessed and lucky I am to have Ainslie; a child in general, and Ainslie in particular. This is not a complaint. It may be a cry for help, or at least, a cry.

For all my exclaiming about her perfection over the past 29 months, I have, sadly, found a chink in her armour. She did not come factory eqipped with an Indoor Voice or an Off Button. The child's normal voice is a quiet scream, and she uses it approximately 12 hours a day, which translates roughly to Every Waking Moment.

Now, she says some amazing and hilarious things---she remembers everything and also has the ability to synthesize information into new thoughts and put things together with logic and say all sorts of things that just astound me. She is also very adept at narrating the events around us to a harrowing degree of minutia. She also monitors my response like a drill sergeant; if I don't respond immediately to a comment about the red car next to us, I am met with a frantic, "MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! DERE'S A WED CAR WIGHT NEXT TO US! EE IT? EE IT?"

Then there is the endless Pretend Play. Again, I AM thrilled that she is so good at this for her age, I mean, I can tell she knows what is real and what is pretend, but she will carry her games over so they overlap with reality, in almost a tongue-in-cheek way. For instance, she knows the Disney Princesses are wearing thin with me, so we'll be out somewhere and she'll mention they came too, but in their own car. The trouble here is that once we start using pixie dust to dance or fly, we aren't allowed to stop. For anything.

Who knew how exhausting it could be just to hear someone talk all day? By the time she goes to bed I am zapped. I want complete silence. TV doesn't even offer any sort of soothing. I just want some peace.

Again, this isn't really a complaint--I would much rather be here than be worried that my child wasn't speaking or having pretend play. I guess I'm just looking for a little commiseration, and a little reassurance that this too, will pass, and someday I'll want her to talk to me so bad that I'd endure all those princesses being around.

BOO!

Thought I'd post some pictures of our Halloween festivities...
Saturday morning we went to the Farmer's Market parade, where we met up with Caroline and Samantha. It was freezing, so after some pictures at home, we had to put on a jacket under the M&M suit.




















Sunday afternoon we went to Zoolie Ghoulie at the zoo here (and I use the term Zoo loosely, lol, they had goats...) It was a really fun event, though--they had 23 Trick-or-Treat stations throughout the zoo. It was still chilly, so we added a pumpkin hat to the ensemble.

Then, the big event--Trick or Treating. We headed out for a little loop as soon as it got darkish, and Ainslie had been practicing, so she had the process down pat.
"Trick or Treat"
"Thank You."
"Can we go to anudder house?"

After collecting more candy than we need, we headed home to wait for Ben and hand out candy, which was just as exciting to Ainslie as Trick or Treating; she loved seeing all the kids at the door and was adamant that she stay in costume to man the door. Here are some pictures of the cousins enjoying some Halloween time:
















All in all, a fun weekend; mostly because Ainslie is old enough to enjoy dressing up and taking part in the different activites. Hope you all had a "Happy Haddoween" too!

Today I love this age

Today I have to post an "I love this age" entry about Ainslie. Last night I could have just as easily posted an, "Urrrrggghhh this age where they talk, talk, TALK for HOURS at a time!" entry, but today is better. :-)
I love this age. I love seeing her progress with her "reading" and with her imaginative games. This morning while I was getting myself ready she was reading to Baby. She has just about all of her favorite books memorized, so she just imitates me. It was downright heart-melting that she even sings, "Pajama Time" instead of reading it. If she can't remember the words on a particular page, she narrates by using the picture. Pretty darned resourceful I'd say!

I remember doing the same thing, and I remember Carrie doing that too, especially with Mother Goose rhymes. You don't realize it at the time, but those rhymes are actually good for you--rhyming words, memorization...good stuff! Ainslie is so proud of herself when she can either 'read' or recite a whole Rhyme. Her Humpty Dumpty is Oscarworthy, I tell ya, and she also does a mean Little Miss Muffett. Doesn't she wonder what the heck a tuffett is, or is she "using context to gain meaning?"

The other thing that has me laughing is the pretend play. This morning, all the Disney princesses (except Jasmine--too far? Too rough a time change?) came over, introduced themselves, and then got into the van (Ainslie drove) to go to Bob Evans for cinnamon rolls and coffee, although Ainslie also ordered her staples of mac and cheese, broccoli, chicken fingers and french fries, with milk, juice, and water. Guess I should have fed her a better breakfast. After Bob Evans, they all went to Washington Park, where they played on the various equipment, before getting bored and driving to Rotary Park (aka Rodeo Park if you're 2.) Finally, I had to drive everyone home to the castle, and Ainslie decided to go live at the castle too. That was hard. I'll sure miss her.

Blessed am I Among Sisters!

If you died today, how many people would mourn you? Possibly a great many. If you died today, how many people would come back to mourn you 10 years from now?

At Carrie's visitation 10 years ago, I was astounded by the number of people in line to say goodbye. Our large church had a massive line snaking out the door. She had so many friends. She was that rare kid who was really popular but also very real, and nice to absolutely everyone. There was no class or clique distiction to her. Well, maybe that is unfair to say since I know she was also very perceptive, but she didn't let some of the meaner social rules pertain to her.

One of the saddest things I have ever seen is the number...the horde...of teenagers crying on her casket at her graveside service. Of course, she died at such a golden age--16. She was a cheerleader, honor student, friends with everyone, of course they mourned her then.

But Now! On Saturday a stone was dedicated to her in our town's new Children's Memorial Butterfly Garden (sad and beautiful place...shudder) and I was astounded and humbled by the number of her friends who came! They came from everywhere! All over the midwest, Texas, NYC---all these "little kids" who are now men and women and husbands and wives and parents and professional people--they came back for Carrie! They still miss her. They still cried. They still love her and consider her a part of their lives! I'm 18 years older than she was when she died and I don't think I have affected nearly as many people. What a spirit she has!

Here are some pictures from the weekend.

After the race Saturday morning, the Educational Foundation presented us with this quilt, made from each logo from the race t-shirts for the past 10 races. My parents were so touched, and my mom did such a graceful job of accepting it! Here we are with it, Carrie's mom and dad, sister, brother-in-law, niece, uncles, aunt, and cousin.




Here is the stone in the garden. It was such a nice event, named Carrie’s Party by two wonderful friends of the family who thought of doing this when the garden was first being planned. It was a gorgeous day, the garden was full of friends, a quartet sang, and I missed Carrie terribly, but at the same time I was so happy to be there, as her sister. How did I get so lucky? It’s a little bit funny (and Carrie would have thought it was very funny,) but the date of death on the stone is actually off by a month—they reordered it and it hadn’t come in yet!



So here we are 10 years later and I am still being inspired by my little sister, to live so large as to be remembered and missed 10 years later; not just by family and close friends, but by a community that has grown and grown.

Grateful

Today I am thankful for:

1. The fact that I do not have peanut allergies. No Thai food or pbjs would not be much fun.
2. Work! Enough work that is 'what I do' to contribute almost as much as before to the family coffers!
3. The Hyundai is still limping along.
4. We have the means (by robbing Peter to pay Paul, albeit) to replace the Hyundai, weekend after next.
5. We are going to Lee's Summit for Carrie's race next weekend.
6. I got to be Carrie's sister.
7. Ainslie is spunky. (today I choose to be grateful for that)
8. We have a roof over our heads.
9. Chocolate chip cookies.
10. The Philadelphia Chickens CD
11. The fact that I could list 10 things without even having to stop and think.

Preschool or Not to School? Lots of Questions.

I've been thinking a lot about preschool lately, mostly because a sleep-deprived toddler whining at you (when you, as a result, are also sleep-deprived) will send your thoughts in the direction of outsourcing.

I don't really know how I feel about preschool at this point. I think that Ainslie should, at some time, attend one, but with the news that there is in fact a reputable preschool nearby that takes 2.5 yr-olds, a decision seems imminent, mostly because if I continue to teach 2 mornings a week, I need to decide whether to continue to mooch off the grandparents, or find a different situation, and either way, there are pros and cons.

Academically, Ainslie is way ahead of the curve. There. I said it. She knows all the letters and the sounds they make, she sight-reads a few words and she memorizes Everything. (Even the obscure Mother Goose rhymes that nobody really knows so we tend to skip over in the book...? Bat, Bat, Come Under My Hat? She knows it better than I do.) Anyway, if you ask her what sound a word starts with, she can correctly identify the letter, even if she can't pronounce it correctly, which is quite amusing.

Me: What sound does Wiggle start with?
A: Wuh. Dubble-woo.
Me: What about Race?
A: Ewww, Awe. (for those that don't speak fluent toddler, she is saying Errrr, R.)

She can count to 20 (although 18 sometimes immediately follows 11), she knows her shapes and colors, including deliniations of darker and lighter. If you ask her favorite color these days, she will tell you it is Light Blue. In short, what is a preschool program designed for 2.5 yr olds going to offer her academically?

Then there is the social aspect. If I hear one more person (and mostly a particular person) tell me that Ainslie needs to socialize because I stay at home with her and therefore runs the risk of being a creepy loner, I may go all Homeskooled in Ruby Ridge on them (her). First of all, she is TWO, and she plays with or alongside other children in the way they all do at that age. Of course I want her to learn to play well with others. I also want her to learn to follow directions, even when she doesn't want to. I'd like her to actually be quiet when I tell her to be quiet. I guess my 'thing' here is that Ainslie is 30 months old and has been going to various Mommy and Me programs since she was 15 months, so yes, I think she is getting adequate social time with her peers without spending 40 hours a week in day care. Since when did day care become the preferable option for tiny kids?

So...I don't know. Six hours a week of preschool certainly will not kill her. I just worry that that on top of gymnastics (which she loves and excels at) is a lot for a not-even-three year old, plus there is a music class here that I think she would enjoy. She plays in the kids' room at the Y a few times a week and we just started hanging out with a group of other moms and 2-yr olds on an informal basis...but then what about the days when I need to work? Then there is the fact that she has 17+ years of formal education in front of her, do we really have to start them earlier and earlier?

I'm rambling. I don't know what the answer is. I don't have to figure it out today. Maybe I won't even be assigned a daytime class next quarter. Maybe she and I will start reading Shakespeare and acting it out in the driveway.

Just Babbling

Teaching this morning was so FUN! A real school with real students, not like the college-in-a-box that hired me last fall. I was afraid I would run out of material and I barely got through everything I wanted to say about the chapter we were discussing. It was so fun to put on real grown-up clothes and lipstick(!) for a couple hours too (although I jumped right back in to the shorts/t-shirt ensemble when I got home.) I think this is going to be a great experience and I hope they hire me again next quarter. Doesn't hurt that this will pay for our medical insurance either!

I'm finally getting around to scheduling check-ups for Ainslie and I. I am overdue for my annual and Ainslie needs a shot sometime before she's 2 and a half. Yikes. She is almost 2 and a half. It's hard to pick a pediatrician here because we have the 'other' network, so even though we o know a handful of kids, nobody has a good recommendation. I will ask at our new gymnastics class tomorrow and see if anyone knows. Luckily, we don't have any special needs. Knocking on wood, since Ainslie has always been healthy and hearty.

Speaking of sick kids, my heart just aches for C and Z and all they are going through right now. I never want to be in the position of seeing my child suffer like that. It broke my parents. 10 years later, and they are still not who they used to be. That has been a major turning point in my life; the moment I realized something was so broken that mom and dad couldn't fix it. Of course they have happy times, and Ainslie is a brilliant bright spot--they have friends, they take trips, but I know that there is just this constant weight on their hearts that nothing will lighten.

Continuing on my stream of babble, mom and dad are coming through town tomorrow. Yay. I keep hoping that next time, they can stay at Our House! In the meantime, Ainslie likes going to see them in the hotels with indoor pools.

Enough babbling. Ainslie will be up from her nap soon. She had a big morning with Grandpa. I came home and she was eating a happy meal (with a really cool Ariel crown), had a new stuffed animal, and had ridden the merry-go-round. Twice.

Oh, speaking of Ariel, one more thing. I'm pretty sick of those princesses. They don't do anything. Blech. That said, I will probably purchase the Little Mermaid dvd in the next couple weeks because I do think Ainslie would enjoy it, and watching dvds is an effective bribe at the moment.

Static Status Quo

I'm really, really trying to Bloom Where I am Planted. I got a job. I've put Ainslie in activities, we have an offer in on a house; but you know, there is still that overwhelming feeling of Real Life being on hold. It's amazing how much being in your own space defines what you do and how you do it. Here we are, reticent to join certain organizations, even a church, because we don't know for sure where we will be living and when we will be living there.

Should we move forward even more? I really think that putting an offer in on a house was a good step--we're taking control of the things we can control, to some degree, but now what? We pray, we wait, we hope, we lower the price.

In some ways it's like waiting for Ainslie to be conceived. Ok, THAT was much harder and more agonizing, but it was always a question of, "when we have a baby..." Now, it's, "when we are in our new house..." There are hopes and dreams and decorating schemes we can't wait to get started on, yet we have to.

I have some friends who have been through similar situations (both with babies and houses) and I know it'll work out. I know it will. When I start to doubt our decision to move here, something always happens to reassure me, but still...how much longer?

Overheard from the back seat

Hey iddle-iddle
Cat ad a fiddle
Cow jump obeh the moon
Good Job, Cow!

Dogs, Cats, and Vegetables

As if four adults, a toddler, and nine (yes, nine) animals were not enough, for the past couple weeks this house has also been home to two vegetables, namely Bob and Larry. For the uninitiated, that would be Bob the Tomato and Larry the Cucumber.

I love this toddler imagination. I love that Ainslie invented Mimi the cat and BagoBago the dog months ago. Today, in the vet's office, I told Ainslie that someday she could have her own cat, and she looked at me rather quizzically and said, "I have Mimi."

So anyway, I don't even remember what prompted Bob and Larry to come live with us, but they just pop up everywhere. The tend to travel on my elbow, so to amuse them, I spin around and give them rides. In the car, they ride in the cupholders. When Ainslie sets them down, they hop along wherever we are going. They like to sleep in Ainslie's pockets.

Honestly, I didn't come up with any of this--it's all Ainslie. I love this kid.

Carrie Jane Foresee June 1, 1980-September 3, 1996

Carrie-Bear,

I really can't believe it's been a decade today since you passed away from us. I remember thinking at the time that someday it would get easier to bear; at some point I wouldn't miss you so much. I realize now that is foolish, for although I carry you with me always, you are always too far away, and I miss you terribly.

I still believe you were there with me that night, in our old room at home. I can still remember so vividly the weight (your weight) on the bed as you told me that you would speak to me in dreams so we could remain close, and you have, although maybe not as much lately, when my mind is so full of other clutter.

I've never felt sorry for you; you are perfect, full of knowledge and with the Lord. I know Heaven is a much funnier place with you there. I do, however, feel sorry for myself almost daily, and I'm sorry if that is selfish, but there are so many things I wish we could share in this life. Of course I wish you were here to be a real, tangible part of Ainslie's life. Although she does still look primarily like Craig, she is looking more like me, and if you put pictures of all three of us at age 2 in a row, we all look like the same girl. She has your sense of humor. She thinks Booger is a hilarious word. She has some of your facial expressions, which is such a blessing, but also a constant reminder that you are not here with us. She almost has your birthday, and she was conceived on a cycle that began September 3rd. I wonder if you and she met before she came here.

I often wonder what you'd be doing in your life by now, at the ripe old age of 26. Your friends are getting married and having babies. Sometimes I think you'd be a globetrotting educator, like Heather, and other times I think maybe you would have been perfectly content to live in Slater like you talked about...but I think you'd be seeing more of the world.

I'm slowly turning into Mom, and you are not here to slap me like you always said you would.

You know, I learned so many lessons from you, the Much Littler Sister, and I am still learning from you and your exuberance. Somehow, at 16, you knew what was really important and what was just silly. Fortunately, we all learned that sometimes the silliness is what is really important.

Today really shouldn't be sadder than any other day; it's just such a milestone. 10 years. In 6 more years you will have been gone as long as you were here, yet your time here will always seem larger. Until Ainslie, you were the one person in the world genetically most similar to me, and even with our age difference, you know, we just had that connection. We get each other.

As much as I miss you, mostly I am terribly grateful that of all the sisters in the world, I got to be yours. I'll see you someday--I expect you to be right there to teach me some more.

Love You Always,
Sissy