In the Next 30 Years

So, I am turning 30 tomorrow.  I have to admit it is a daunting number.  Made harder because I am not where I thought I would be at 30.  I don't know many people who's lives are exactly the way they planned them or are exactly where they thought they would be.  Actually, I can't think of one.  And maybe it is better that way.  Maybe if you live your best life everyday, the planning just doesn't matter so much.  I like that thought.  Stop planning, stop searching, stop thinking.  Just live a happy life.  I think I am doing a pretty damn good job of that.

Wow. 30. Do I actually want to admit that I am a little excited to what the next 10 years will bring.  My 20's were so filled with anxiety.  Anxiety about leaving college, getting a real job, relationships, financial independence, who I was, my next move, then the joy and test that was Wyatt.  Its just SO much. I have this great hope that my 30's aren't going to be like that.  That its going to be about loving myself, loving others, being happy with who I am and where I am.  I am sure there will be hardships but I am content and hopefully to put some of those old anxieties to rest.  I am excited at what lies ahead for me and for Wyatt.

To start off my next thirty years, Wyatt, Rebecca and I are taking to the skies.  Yes, tomorrow, the day I turn 30, we are headed to California for a week.  Hayley is so graciously allowing us to crash and Delta so graciously offered cheap last minute tickets.  What's to think about really?  On the agenda: Legoland (like RIGHT NOW!!  Wyatt is BESIDE himself!!), Cars-Land in Disney, the beach, some booze, some friends, and hopefully some glorious sunshine.  Not a bad way to start a decade.

Catch ya on the flip side!

The Grinch

I first have to preface this post by saying: I love Christmas.  It is, by far, my favorite holiday.  I love going to church on Christmas Eve, opening Christmas pajamas, the family camaraderie, the sibling rivalry, the eggnog, sending Christmas cards, and most of all giving gifts to others.  I even really enjoy Christmas shopping.  It gives me a good reason to spend money, something I normally do very seldom.  However, this Christmas has been something of a Grinch trifecta that has left me entirely unprepared, totally behind the 8 ball, and a little on the Grinchy side.

My first issue has been work.  This is the busiest time of year for the church. Michael's last day at St. Johns was on the first Sunday of Advent.  Normally, I am doing my Sexton things and more recently my Clergy PA things which keeps me busy full time.  With Michael gone, I am now picking up some Sunday School stuff which was NEVER in my job description.  Now, I don't blame Michael for this at all.  In fact, I am very happy for him.  It was only a matter of time before he found an amazing church of his own in Brooklyn but just because Michael is gone doesn't mean the work has stopped.  So, on top of it being Christmas, I am also adding a good 10 hours of extra work into my normal work week.  The thing that kills me is the extra work is stuff I can really sink my teeth into, like planning a youth Habitat retreat.  I would LOVE to do that!!  It is just a matter of trying to fit it in with everything else.  Its been a little crazy and a great stressor.  I have had several evenings this month lying awake wondering if I could complete all the things that I have to finish the next day.

Then of course on Monday before Christmas Wyatt started getting sick.  Runny nose, coughing, generally ickiness.  On Tuesday night, he coughed so much he puked, only once and I think it was because I had just given him a glass of water.  Today, I brought him to the doctor to find out he has his first ear infection.  Of course, the doctor was impressed that it was his first one and he is almost 3 but I am just panicked.  It is going to be Christmas!!  My baby can't be sick!!  I want him to enjoy every second instead of feeling gross and wishy-washy.  And on top of all that, when Wyatt is sick all he wants is me to sit on the couch and snuggle.  Which is not so bad normally but during the holidays its hard.  I HAVE to go to work.  I end up bringing him with me.  And he has been good but he's not 100% good.  Now that Wyatt is on antibiotics I am guaranteed to be sick for Christmas.  He will be feeling better and I will be getting worse.  It always happens like that. 

You know that post I wrote about my dog being out of control.  Well, since its the holidays, he has gone into overdrive.  For the most part he has been pretty good and I haven't had to crate him when we leave the house.  Then all of a sudden on December 1st, he Freaked the F out.  Literally, I am not making up these numbers: he ate 5 plastic cans of cat food one day.  Then it was 6 packages of dog food.  The next day it was a package of Chips a Ahoy, some Saltines, and a failed attempt at Wyatt's juice boxes.  He figured out how to open our pantry, even through my various blockades.  Then he ate all our Christmas stocking chocolate.  And then puked all night.  5 pairs of my underwear.  These chocolate liquor bottles, he was particular to the Grand Marnier and Jack Daniels.  Then he was really puking.  Finally I dragged the crate back up.  This was all in a week.  It was Pup's 6 days of Christmas gorging.  Its always a nice feeling when you are already stressed and then have to come home to a house that is trashed.  Out. Of. Control.

My Christmas shopping started off really well.  Before Thanksgiving, I had already bought a bunch of stuff, mostly online.  Then Terry had Wyatt on Black Friday and I got a lot more done and then I stalled. Like didn't think about it at all.  I had piles of gifts in the basement and had totally forgot what they were.    I get to go shopping tomorrow.  Then Terry is taking Wy on Christmas Eve and I have 3 hours to wrap before I have to go to work from 1pm-8pm then 12-1:30am.  I am stressing out already.  I am pretty sure I am going to have to enlist my sisters to help me wrap, which I am sure they are going to be thrilled about.  It just makes me kind of sad because that is one of my favorite parts.  I LOVE listening to Christmas music, drinking eggnog, decorate presents to the 9's, and being a bonafied elf.  I guess theres always next year.

And I know that all of this craziness is going to be totally worth it.  I got some damn good gifts this year.  I love giving gifts that I know my friends and family are going to enjoy.  Wyatt is going to LOVE this Christmas.  I cannot wait to see his reaction to everything.  I just have to get there.

The Great Destructor

I haven't mentioned our four legged family member in a while and I am sure you are dying for an update.  He is settling in quite nicely although we are noticing a lot of neurotic tendencies.  This dog is OUT OF HIS MIND.  I have my theories about why he is such a neurotic dog.  Maybe he was separated too early from his mother.  Maybe the puppy place didn't treat him so well.  Maybe he ate some poisoned dog food. Maybe he just lost too many brain cells.  I'm not sure but whatever the reason, something is not all there. Here's the proof:

1. He will eat anything.  I when I say anything, I mean everything.  Steak, mac and cheese, lasagna, and then not so normal stuff like carrots, cardboard, stale bread thrown in the backyard for the birds, blankets, underwear, sticks and Wyatt's toys.  I actually took a video of Pup jumping on the arm of a chair to take a carrot out of a bowl.  I got a box of chocolates for Dad's birthday and left them on the kitchen table.  We passed each other on the road, less then 1 minute way from the house.  Pup ate the entire box then puked for the rest of the night.

2. Along with the eating comes the begging.  He is  CONSTANTLY begging.  Inching closer and closer to the food source until he is literally on top of you watching you eat like a tennis match.  He chases Wyatt around the house jumping after whatever Wyatt is holding in his hand.  He attacks Wyatt when he gets down from the table, licking his pants, hands, shirt, and wherever else food has landed.  Mom decided that he just needed to be fed more and he is not only still begging but now he's fat.

3. Thats all fairly normal I guess but in addition to his food fetishes, he needs to be very close to you all the time.  Like living on Mom's lap and when sleeping on the bed he inches closer and closer until he is on a pillow breathing into your face.  When I am playing on the floor with Wyatt, he has to sit on the legos or puzzle pieces.  When he's sleeping on the couch while I am watching TV and he will get up to come to the bathroom with me.  He waits outside the bathroom door while mom or I are showering.  I can't quite do this justice because it is really something you have to see to believe.

4.  He is abysmal at walking on his leash.  Just the sight of Wyatt putting on his shoes or jacket sends the dog into hysterics.  He runs and barks and barks and barks.  Oh God the barking.  And after the barking its the running around everything he can find; tangling his leash and himself around trees, lamp posts, or parking signs.  Its a nightmare.  You would think he would get better the more walks he went on (we tried this theory; a walk everyday and running around with the neighborhood kids in the afternoon) but no, he got worse.  And he pulls, like ripping your arm out of its socket pulls.  The worst is when he runs around Wyatt and tangles his legs.  They don't make a leash short enough for this dog.  If they did, I would buy it.

Wy and Pup in my laundry.

5. He has an insatiable need to lay in the clean, hot laundry.  Need I say more.

6. He has a sick fascination with our cat, Delilah.  He chases the poor thing all over the house.  But she has learned, the coy little cat.  She taunts him.  She will sit perfectly still as he charges for her.  Then he chickens out and stops, as he is usually met with her sharp claws, absolutely dumbfounded on why she isn't moving.  Then she usually starts rubbing all over him while purring.  It drives him crazy and sets him barking and running in circles sliding on the kitchen floor.  Their love/hate relationship is hysterical to watch.  Delilah likes to hang out on the porch roof.  One early morning, while Delilah was casually sunning herself, Pup caught a glimpse and decided to jump through the slightly open window.  6 in the morning Pup and Delilah running circles on our roof, Mom yelling for Pup to come inside, for all the casual dog walkers to see. I would have paid good money to see that.

Pup Garbage Destruction

7. I bought this dress for my 10 year reunion.  I LOVE this dress.  I gingerly took it out of the box and spread it out on the floor to admire it.  Pup ran over, sat on it, then started to drag his butt on it.  Really!?! Do I have to say more?

Most of the time its endearing.  I guess you could say he fits right in with the family.  Bear was a neurotic dog as well but she was also a REALLY good dog.  Pup (I am praying) is still in his mischievous puppy years and will eventually grow into a really good neurotic dog.  When I was in college I bought a fighting fish that looked like he was the loser in about 1400 fights.  No one could understand why I would buy a fighting fish that had all its fins bitten off.  But I did.  Just because I didn't think anyone else would.  Maybe I saw some of that in Pup too.  That we needed to save him.  And besides aren't we all just a little neurotic.  When he's not eating the garbage or my underwear he really is very sweet.

My Latest Haunts

I have been reading A LOT lately.  Like A LOT, a lot.  Like reading when Wyatt asks to watch YouTube videos which is like reading the same sentence four times.  And waking up at odd hours of the night to read until my eyes go blurry.  I even attempted to read in traffic the other day.  Bad idea.  I got beeped at twice before I decided it was probably the stupidest idea I've ever had.  I have always been an avid reader.  But lately my reading choice (and obsession) has got me a little concerned.

The first series I got stuck on was the Hunger Games.  Yes, its a youth novel.  Yes, so is the Twilight series which I also read and enjoyed.  Yes, so is Harry Potter which I LOVED.  So when I heard buzz about this series when the last novel was being released, I checked it out at the library.  I read this book in 2 days.  It is captivating.  The writing is not brilliant but the story is intriguing and the characters lovable.  It is more violent then I ever expected a youth novel to be and Graphic (queasy faced graphic).  I went back to the library to get book 2 and there was a waiting list.  I promptly ordered the other 2 books, Catching Fire and Mockingjay on Amazon.  Then I dreamt about these characters, about their world, their war, their poverty, their cruelty, their sobering reality.  I would find myself laying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering about how I would react in their situations.  When the books arrived, it was Wyatt's first week of school and the St. John's Fair that occupies most of the month of September for me.  And I still could not let the books sit on the shelf for a better time.  I stayed awake from 1am until 6am reading Catching Fire.  I just couldn't put it down.  I was just as bad with Mockingjay.  I really hope they make them into movies and I totally understand what all the buzz was about.  This series was totally worth my late nights.

More recently, I started the Sookie Stackhouse Series which the HBO show TrueBlood is based on.  I love TrueBlood.  Just call me a vampire lover.  I think the show is so brilliantly awful yet oddly addicting.  I wanted to know where it originated from.  I have to admit, they are not my favorite books but the sex scenes do live up to HBO standards.  In the first novel, I found typos and sometimes there are so many characters that I can't keep them straight.  And predictably a new character is always the villain and most often dies at the end.  Perhaps the only reason that I am interested in these novels are for this man:

Oh my LORD.  I am drooling already.  Sometimes I find myself skimming pages simply to find his name.  This actor, Alex Skarsgard:  (I have to picture him again because he is just so delicious...)

Plays the character Eric Northman on the TrueBlood series.  And I simply can't help but imagine him when I am reading the novels.  Literally my life right now is built on elaborate fantasies about this man.  It just shows the state of my social life when I would rather read and dream about fictional characters then motivate myself to meet new people that most assuredly will not live up to my fantasies.  I know I should invest more time in actual relationships but sometimes it is just easier to dream.  I don't recommend the novels but I do recommend Alex Skarsgard.  Yum.  My next series is the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.  Thoughts?  Is it as good as everyone says it is?

Zzzzzz

I can't sleep.  No, stratch that.  I don't think I will ever sleep again.  Ever.  I don't have trouble falling asleep, its the staying asleep that gets me.  Its 3am.  We had a busy day.  I should be asleep, but alas, I'm not.  I fell asleep putting Wyatt to bed (which how could I not?  He's so cuddly and soothing and sleepy...drool) only to wake up for NO APPARENT reason.  Then not being able to fall back asleep, I give in and head into the artificial light of the night.  I think it is safe to say that I haven't had a full 8 hours of sleep since I was pregnant.  Thats about 3 years ago.  I have always been a light sleeper but this is ridiculous.

All I can think of is that it is just so flipping ironic.  Wyatt is FINALLY sleeping through the night.  From 9:30pm till 8am.  And I am STILL getting up.  Is there no justice in the world?!?!  Sometimes I lay awake watching him sleep.  He's so angelic and peaceful.  Then I slowly get jealous. Sometimes I contemplate waking him up just so I won't be lonley.  That idea is quickly stratched.  I really don't think there is anything worse then being awake when all you want to do is be asleep.

Medication has been suggested. But how could I possible take sleeping pills?  Yes, I guess that would work for me but is that really the best choice for Wyatt.  What if he needs me during the night and I can't wake up?  I can't be drowsy during the day.  Plus, I am pretty hesitant to take medication anyway.  So, no.  Pills are not my solution.

I know my naysayers are saying "Move that child into another bed."  Wyatt is not the problem.  Yes, he rolls around a little but nothing dramatic.  I have been (mildly) trying to get him in his own bed.  I thought that Rebecca could put him to sleep upstairs in his potential new room under the guise of a fun sleepover with his aunt.  It lasted 30 minutes before he told Auntie B that the sleepover was over and he wanted to go back downstairs. So much for my well laid plans.  I'm not really motivated to move him.  He is starting school soon. I am hesitant to throw too many new things at him at once.  And (am I allowed to admit this) I am going to be sad to see him go.  I will never have this time with him again.  And I am not sure, if I have another child, that co-sleeping will be an option under different circumstances.  I enjoy having him close to me.  He is a cuddlier and I am more than happy to oblige.  He is my baby and I will always be there if he needs me.

I guess I am just going to have to tough it out and pray for some relief soon.  Catch up on my DVR and Netflix.  Maybe join Wyatt for his hour long naps.  Invest in some delicious, irresistible coffee.  Relish in the quiet at 4am.  Moonlight as a phone sex operator.  Who knows?

Twin Cities Ramble

I’m sitting at a bar in Minneapolis, conveniently named Tuggs seemingly for it rhyming with Juggs.  I worked all day for Ideas to Go and now am scheduled on a flight back tomorrow morning at 10.  I’ve just walked around for a good 30 minutes trying to think of something to do.  I have no idea what to do with myself.  I honestly don’t think I've had this much free time since Wyatt was born.  I’m reminded of that utterly blissful freedom; the kind you have before you become a parent.  Before you realize what a time suck children are.  A wildly enjoyable time suck.  But one none the less.  I finally settled on drinking a beer, with my laptop, watching shirtless men running on the waterfront.  Really, I’m considering moving to Minneapolis just for the shirtless men and the $3 beers and, maybe, the cobblestone.  There is something about the way a car sounds driving on the cobblestone that gives me that old world charm.

I’m not complaining about my lack of free time just cherishing it when it comes.   I have had nights away from Wyatt before.  But I usually fill them with friends.  I know nothing about Minneapolis.  I had to reference license plates to know what state I was in.  Classic ignorant American.  I know no one here.  Or rather, I know people here, but I wouldn’t want to burden them with occupying my time.  I think I need these nights every once and a while but I don’t think I could plan them at home.  I’m in a kind of limbo.  I think that if I found myself with this kind of free time, even marginally away from Wyatt, I would have made my way home by now.  Not to mention, this seems like an very extravagant thing to do.

Shirtless boy.  12 o’clock.  Unlocking bike then mounting.  With yellow boxers showing beneath madras shorts.  God, that’s distracting.

This post is going to ramble.  I can feel it already.  I have been so busy lately with all the work I have been doing.  Between St. John’s and Ideas to Go.  Then Rebecca Graduating from Fordham (again). And Hayley moving to LA.  I’ve been booked solid.  Something I enjoy!  But leaves little time for anything else.  I think filling up my date book has taught me a lesson.  I’ve made significant efforts to preserve a day off.  I literally shut my phone off, forget about email, and concentrate the entire day on Wyatt.  Its refreshing to not feel pulled in 12 directions, knowing I can focus all my attentions on him without feeling guilty or preoccupied.

Oh my.  Several sweaty bearded boys mostly in plaid button downs sitting behind me.  One shirtless, tatooed and with seersucker shorts.  I can’t overtly stare at them but am downwind.  Its like crack.  I need to get to the hotel before I get myself in trouble.  Its Monday night for goodness sake.  90 degrees but still Monday.

I bought a bike seat for Wyatt.  On my Dad’s urging.  We pulled my Mom’s old rusted Swinn Cruiser from the shed and attached the seat on the back.  Requiring a few trips to the hardware store and several tool exchanges from Wyatt.  On a valiant effort, I decided to ride up this huge (in Long Island perspective) hill to the library on Wyatt and I’s maidien voyage.  I think this seat is solidifying my “granola” status.  I find it refreshing traveling in such an old fashion way.  Riding bikes can never be out dated.  By the time we got to the library, I was dying; sweating profusely, gasping for breath, legs like jelly.  Wyatt was swinging his helmet on his pinkie finger proclaiming the exhilarating ride.  I am proud to say the ride home was much easier although I didn't quite trust the brakes.  I am looking forward to our next adventure.  Maybe I'll get a basket to go on the front for Pup.  Too much?

The Kennedys

Terry and I took Wyatt to an Easter egg hunt at the library last Saturday. Wyatt had no idea what he was supose to be doing. If you think about it, Easter is really hard to explain to a kid. There's this bunny and he comes to hide your eggs and give you candy. Why? Well, because Jesus rose from the dead!! Maybe Jesus and the bunny are friends but for the life of me I can't understand his obsession with eggs. Anyway, moving on from that tangent...Wyatt saw all these kids running around so he just started running. In every direction. His brain told him "Look!! There are kids running. So run!! And scream. This is so much fun!!" Terry and I were yelling directions at him. "Look, there's a blue egg by your foot. Wyatt, stop. Look. Over here." So he would pick it up and try to open it then look up and THE KIDS ARE RUNNING!!! He ended up collecting 5 eggs and then a few big kids gave him some more. He was more interested in the running and continued on running even when almost everyone else left.

We met this couple with a son, James, only a few months older then Wyatt. They got along really well although I found James VERY hard to understand. We decided that he was either speaking a made up language or Chinese. James and Wyatt were following each other around, sharing these small bunny toys, and I swear talking to each other. Or rather Wyatt was trying to communate in English while James was speaking in Mandarin or Swahili, whatever. But they seemed to be having fun, none the less. The couple just moved to our small town from Brooklyn and are having a very hard time meeting people. You would think that since our town is so tiny everyone would know one another. And sometimes thats true, especially if you lived here for a long time. But as an outsider looking in I would find it intimidating trying to encroach on that inner circle. We are all people islands. I bet if everyone just took 5 minutes to get to know their neighbors a little better we could make a stronger community. Throw a block party instead of peering over fences, a bunch of BBQing islands. Block parties were so awesome but now its more important to have intangible Facebook friends then reality neighbor friends. Woah, another tangent, anyway....they live a few houses away and before leaving they invited us over at anytime. I should probably bake them something to welcome them to the neighborhood. Thats what someone pre-technology would do.

This scene is pretty classic and frequent in my world. I meet other parents all the time, at the Y, at the playground, at the supermarket, at the library. Sometimes you chat for a minute, maybe make tentative plans at a play date. Or a see you here next week promise. Evidently, Terry doesn't make it out of military-land very often and this was an ENTIRELY new experience for him. I am not exggerating when I say he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He was so proud of himself, commenting how we were just like the Kennedy family. Making friends with new people, carefully responding and avoiding their questions, rolling around with our kid in the grass with matching Chucks on. And for what it is worth, he's kinda right. We are a family. It might not be the tradional sense of the word but families come in all shapes and sizes. I'm not going to get all mushy and sentimental (although I want too). Sometimes, even I get caught up in the details instead of holding on to the feeling behind the details. Next time someone asks me my marital status or Wyatt's Dad's involvement, I'm going to respond with "We're a family." Lets see what kind of reaction that gets.

This post wouldn't be complete without Another tangent: Terry, if we actually want to be the Kennedys, we have to have a bunch of more kids. Enough kids to play football on the beach. And I think thats a conversation best had over A LOT of drinks.

Let the Parenting Begin

I have written about Wyatt's eating habits several times just to delete everything. I know every toddler on the planet has eating issues. And I also know that there is nothing more boring then reading about a toddler's eating habits. But I just can't help myself. After almost every meal, I run to my laptop to bang the keys in anger and frustration because my kid WON'T EAT ANYTHING!! Over the course of the day I can make him 12 different meals to get one bite of each actually in his mouth (digested is a whole other story). And then I think, Ok, 12 bites and a multi-vitamin. Thats not so bad. I can calm myself down, convince myself that he is a well rounded eater, until the next meal when my kid STILL won't eat anything and the cycle starts all over again.

I have started getting anxious around meal times. 8am, 11am, 5pm, I start sweating wondering if this time it will be any better. Should I even bother with a vegetable to just jump right to pizza? I feel like everything I prepare is going to end up in the dogs bowl. Even staples that I always could count on like yogurt aren't cutting it anymore. The other night I made home-cooked Mac and Cheese (not even the blue box kind!) and Wyatt didn't take one bite. I decided to stand my ground and told him he was going to sit there until he ate something. We stared at each other for a while. Then he asked for a carrot. And he ate it. So I let him down. I'll take a few bites of a carrot for dinner. And a carrot is MUCH better then nothing, or ice cream, or cookies, or gumminbears (as Wyatt says it. I won't mention who's responsible for that. Cough, cough, Auntie B, cough) Every single meal is a frustrating game of trying to convince him to eat.

I have made it a Thing. He has always been in the 90 percentile for weight and last doctor's visit he dropped to the 60th. And he can sense its a Thing and acts out accordingly. How do I not make it a Thing? Most of the time I can get creative and play some kind of a game to get him to eat. I break out the toothpicks or his fake toolset for him to plier pinch his food. Or I'll give him a bunch of toys while I feed him, spoon by spoon. Or put Cheerios in his cement mixer. Most of the time I can muster up Miss Perfectly Patient despite the knot in my stomach. I will make him a million different things, trying everything in the cabinet.

And then there are the times I loose it. I have bad days just like the rest of the world where I can't be anyone but Grumpy McGrumpster. I resort to bribing which I don't think he understands. The eat one more bite and you can get down (or get an ice pop, or get a toy, or get a sticker, or kick Momma just one more time when she's down) days. Its those days where I throw up my hands and let him eat whatever he wants. Fine, eat popcorn all day. See if I care. Which works for maybe a minute before I do care because I'm his mother and I will always care. And then on top of not getting him to eat now I feel like a failure of a mother because I can't be Miss Perfectly Patient Parent of the MOTHER FUCKING YEAR!! (ARRRR - lays head down on laptop sdkj fhas;tgai hensk djf).

I just honestly have no idea what to do. He is growing up and wants to be independent. He is testing his limits and seeing what he can get away with. He RARLY misbehaves and I have never had to "discipline" him. If I start "forcing" him to eat at the dinner table he will be less willing to sit there all together. It will make it even more of a Thing. But I also feel I need to set a precedent that I am the boss, damn it. He should do what I ask him to. It's just HARD and confusing!! And he is so good, all the time. He is allowed to be a little finicky every now and then. I just need a new game plan, some new tricks up my sleeve, maybe some new recipes. Or I just need to accept that its a phase. Grin and bear it.

The 3 P's of My Life: Puke, Poop, and Pee

Wyatt is sick. I know its that time of year when everyone feels yucky but he is so helpless when he feels bad. He can't tell me what is bothering him so he just sits and looks pathetic. It makes it so much worse. He has this hacking cough that made him sound like a barking seal in the beginning and now sounds more like the heat coming on in the old pipes. When I do get him to sleep, he will wake himself up in coughing fits where he can't breathe. Last night it got so bad he started throwing up. He totally didn't care. It was like "Hack, hack, puke, hack, puke, hack, hack. Oh, Mom turned the light on. Time to get my trucks!" At one point, while I was changing the sheets, he threw a "Morning!!" in the mix. "No, bud, its still time for sleeping." Its already been a week and two doctor visits. I really hope it doesn't last much longer.

I want everyone who said no to us getting a dog to keep their "I told you so's" to themselves for a minute while I vent about Pup. Pup is very cute, cuddly and lovable but he is also very stupid. Seriously, there has to be some genetic flaw or lack of brain cells or something. He EATS everything. EVERYTHING!! If you need an example: all of Wyatt's toys, books, the draft dodger, pens, my underwear (which is too disgusting to go into detail), bananas, paper, glasses, my cell phone charger and Mac charger, etc, etc. I am praying that it is just the puppy phase because if he keeps on I am going to give him away on the corner. I am tailoring Wyatt's Christmas list around what I think will last the longest without Pup eating it. I found this amazing functioning cement mixer that Wyatt would DIE for and I am hesitating because spending $40 on a dog toy is out of my budget. Also, he is still having potty issues. Specifically, when I am giving Wyatt a bath. I think it might be vindictive because Pup will get in the bath if I let him in the bathroom. But my common sense tells me he is not smart enough to be vindictive. I yell "Pup" four thousand times a day. Bear was just such an amazing dog. Even in heaven she is still making Pup look bad. My only consolation is that Wyatt adores him. Seeing Wyatt on the couch with Pup's head on his lap is worth it while I am scrubbing the carpet. Most of the time. Ok, I'm ready for the "I told you so's" now.

Wyatt said "Stop cars, train coming" about two weeks ago. I was reading him a book and we were on a page about a railroad crossing. Hands down, he is a genius. I am considering this a sentence. Sentences before two years old!! Is this genius status or am I just being a proud mom who thinks their child is the best and possibly the next Einstein? His sense of language in general seems very advanced to me. He knows possessives. Like Mom's shoes and Pa's shirt. He has a sense of humor. He does this fake laugh, covers his mouth and says "silly, silly." He tells whole stories around the dinner table about what he did at Mommy and Me class or what he saw outside that day. Now, if I can just get him to pee on the potty. We sat in the bathroom yesterday for 10 minutes for him to walk into the den and pee on the rug.

Does Picture Perfect Even Exist?

I have been feeling very underwater lately, foggy, like there is this haze in front of my eyes. I have been thinking too much. I find my mind wandering from what I am doing. I'll be down the beach playing with Wyatt and then just zone out for a few minutes staring at the water. Sometimes I think its a result of be being tired. I play out these imaginary scenes in my head with grand gestures, with people breaking out into song and dance, with flowers and romance, with fairy tale endings. I know full well that these imaginations will never happen but I let them play out. Like watching scenes from a movie. It sounds weird now that I write it out but thats just how my mind figures things out.

I wish my life could have a soundtrack where music would start playing at key moments in every situation. I wish I always had the right words to say. That everything I phrased would come out perfectly well intentioned, intelligent, and universally understood. I wish I could live in a string of Hallmark moments. I have a tendency to want everything to be perfect. Maybe everyone does. I dream about trips to Disneyland with a mom, a dad, and a baby. I want a perfect family unit for myself and Wyatt. I feel like we both deserve that. Most of all I feel like Wyatt deserves that. I feel like I somehow failed him because I can't provide that nuclear family. I know he doesn't know the difference right now. But some day he will. And I might still not be ready when he figures it out.

I really want everything to work out. And most of the time, I have hope that it will. But being a single mom, I am often reminded that not everything is perfect. And sometimes it is hard to find the silver lining. To remember that I'm not alone. To remember that I am not overwhelmed. To remember to have hope for the future. To remember that I am desirable. To remember that I am successful. To remember that just because its not perfect right now doesn't mean it won't be in the future. I am just having a moment, a hard week. It will pass.

Updates:

The lizard exists people!!! Evidently, some guy was moving and the three foot beast escaped. He tried to catch it but couldn't and then had to leave. So now, we have this creepy man eating lizard that is slowly starving and beginning to hunt our children, cats, and new puppies. My dad had a run in on Sunday when he was cutting the grass. He looked up and there is this lizard sunning itself on our neighbors roof. There has been an all out rescue effort with nets and fire department trucks but they have yet to catch it. My thought is since it has turned to autumn early it probably won't survive much longer. Too cold. At least that is what I tell myself so I can sleep and let my baby play in the backyard.

Also, after much encouragement, I have signed up for eHarmony. I was very hesitant and for the most part still pretty untrusting but its worth a shot. The way I justified it was if I get one nice date a month it pays for itself. So far it has been mildly disappointing. No one has really been jumping out at me. But I am willing to try at least for the month that I subscribed for. It is kind of an intense process. There are all these questions that you have to answer before they will let you have any open communication. So, I'm not up to that stage yet. And for those of you wondering, I am keeping Wyatt a secret until I meet them in person. I don't want to attract any creepers but I also don't want to keep him a secret so I have decided that first date is probably appropriate. I am sure there will be many posts to come about this new venture.

Another poll to the masses: Wyatt and I have a membership at the local Y and I can't seem to decide which, if any, class I should sign us up for. Our options are a mommy and me class that we did last time and he adored it. It was for 16-24 month olds and it was like a huge play group. He really did enjoy it. Or another swim lesson, which he also liked but I think that might be better for the winter. I love being able to go swimming when you can't outside. Or there is this new music appreciation class which seems like they play instruments, sing songs, dance, that kind of thing. Or should we skip this session entirely because this new swine flu information is kind of daunting and he already has a cold. I am leaning toward music class because I would love to get Wyatt into the arts as soon as possible. But the germys have got me kind of freaked. Its a toss up.

The Dreaded 2-7

My birthday is coming up. On Sunday. For as long as I can remember 27 has been this scary age for me. Forget 30, it is 27 that freaks me out. I always thought that by 27 I should be settled, in career, in life, in home. In many ways, I am. And in many ways I still feel like the tethered end of a fraying rope. At first I was all, who cares about 27?!? You have a child!! One of your life goals have been completed!! But as the 19th looms closer, I have begun to panic.

I think a lot of my anxiety comes from everywhere I look, all my friends are pairing off, growing up, buying houses, getting married. And I'm still just me, single, living at my parents, with everyone always asking if I'm dating. Its like I skipped the entire first section of my SAT's and the proctor is screaming at me to go back before times up and the section is closed forever. No matter how many times I remind my proctor that I'll finish the test in MY OWN DAMN TIME, I can't help but see how she's a little bit right. Is that a totally weird analogy? I did skip a few steps in my life and now I am trying to go back and fill in the blanks. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage. First comes baby, then comes what exactly?

I have had opportunities to go out and date. I try to go out, just for me, once a week. But how do you fit friends, down time, dating, etc, etc into one day a week? I'll end up meeting someone that I kinda like only to see them about once a month wherein they (or I) inevitably lose interest. I never feel like I can give 100% of myself to the dating scene when 90% of my brain is with Wyatt. And who wants to date 10% of a person. Then as Wyatt and I both age, our collective package gets more and more unattractive. Right now, I'm (cough, cough) 27, attractive, with NO stretch marks, long legged and cellulite free. Wyatt, at 17 months, is cute as can be, cuddly, warm, and loving. We are a cute combo. But as I get more gray hair and Wyatt gets more unmanageable our collective stock will plummet. Dare I say, it will be hard(er) for me to find a guy willing to take on such a package.

Stay with me on this one, its a little out there. I love to be in love. I was often quick to jump, feet first, into the 'I love you' phase of a relationship just because I like living in that world. Until now, I have always believed full heartedly that I was in love. But having Wyatt has given me a definite picture of what love is. It makes me suspect that I have never really fallen in love at all but have been doing something much more ordinary all these years. But maybe its a different type of love, the love for a child and the love for a man. The question is: how do I start a relationship with someone knowing that I will never love them as much as I love Wyatt? It doesn't seem fair.

Then there is my self-made pressures. I have always wanted children close in age. The 2 year age ideal seems perfect to me. Your in school together, can have the same friends, reach similar milestones around the same time. Lizzy and I have a 9 year difference. I left for college when she was 8. I missed out on most of her life. It wasn't until I moved back home that we began to reconnect. Going by that logic, I would need to be pregnant again pretty soon to make my 2 year age mark. That is just not realistic. I try to tell myself that it doesn't matter but sometimes I can almost hear my self-made ticking clock.

Sometimes I am content with not getting married, not having any more children, and living with Wyatt for the rest of my days but other times I think I want a partner to sit on a rocking chair with. Someone who can love me, someone who will sit and cheer at Wyatt's baseball game with me, someone who I can fart in front of. I have realized that there are some stories that don't have a beginning, middle, and end. I know I tend to live in my head and think way beyond what I should be focusing on. I am working on living in the moment without knowing what's going to happen next.

Keep Knocking, No One's Home

I can't believe this is happening, again.  When Lizzy went for blood tests last week, it never crossed my mind that the virus might be back.  I never allowed myself to think it.  She has been hepatitis C free for over 2 months.  She has regained some semblance of a normal life.  She has become a teenager again, become a  regular senior in high school.  Hanging out with friends until all hours of the morning.  Participating in scavenger hunts, sleep outs, and cut days.  Simply enjoying being young and beautiful.  That is what life is suppose to be like for her.  Carefree, innocent, exciting, full of promise, and believing nothing bad could ever happen.

One phone call can change it all.  The virus is back.  She has two basic options.  Go back on her horrific treatment (that landed her sick, taking 3 weekly injections, on the couch watching awful TV not having the strength to move) for another year, during college no less. (Hi new roommates!  I brought the microwave and a duffel bag of syringes!!) Or wait until 2011 when a new treatment is suppose to be launching but risk letting the virus eat away at her liver, while living with knowing you are sick and doing nothing about it.  She gets to asks questions on her doctors appointment on Monday.  She is going to Loyola in Baltimore in the fall.  Baltimore is not far, but far enough.  This is her summer before college.   Graduation is next weekend.  Prom is coming up.  Why now?  Why her?  Why again, so soon?  Hasn't she been through enough?  But there is no one to blame.  Sometimes life just sucks for no rhyme or reason.  There would never be a good time.  No one deserves this.

I wish that I could do it for her.  That I could be the sick one so she can go enjoy college.  I feel so bad for her.  No, that doesn't even begin to cut it.  I feel overwhelmed for her.  Everyone is so upset.  I know it will be fine.  Out of our family, she is the one who can handle this.  She is stronger then anyone gives her credit for.  I know its not the worse news.  Its a setback in the fight.  She's going to be fine.  I'm being melodramatic.  But when bad news comes to your family, to someone that you love, it is hard to see any good.  To see any silver lining.  To feel anything but emptiness.  I want to bathe in alcohol but thats unfair because Lizzy can't drink.  Destined to be the designated driver for the rest of her life.  I want to grieve, to black out the windows, and wallow in bad movies.  Maybe we'll all just go smoke up.  It's been a bad day.

12 Steps

The first step is admitting you have a problem.  Wyatt sleeps in my bed for a few hours every night, sometimes all night.  It is the only way that I can get a decent nights sleep.  When I started the habit, I knew I was in trouble.  But now that I have admitted its a problem and am resigned to it.  So he sleeps in my bed.  Big deal.  For a few months?  Who cares?  I am getting a decent 6 hours a night.  I'll take the trade off.  My next issue is how do I keep him from falling out of my bed.  Obviously, I am on one side but there is a vast expanse on the other.  Usually, I will feel him moving around and wake up in time to slide him back from the edge.  The other night, I must have been really out of it and woke up to find his head practically hanging off the bed.  This resulted in more sleepless nights worrying every 5 minutes if he was about to throw himself off the bed in a sleeping fit.

I weighted the options.  I could rearrange my room so my bed would be against a wall.  This seemed like the least expensive option.  But every time I tried to figure it in my head the room seemed all wrong.  With the crib in there as well, the room just didn't flow.  Wyatt still uses his crib for naps and evenings from about 8:30-1 so I can't ditch it yet.  There just isn't enough wall space.  My next thought was buying a bed rail, like for a toddler bed.  Although entirely humiliating it would seem to be the easy answer.  I found one that was long enough to fit on my queen mattress and also slides underneath when I don't want it in use.  All for $30.  The set up was a little tricky but it does the job.  My bed felt enormous the first night I used it, having regained bed space normally reserved for the barrier of pillows.

Whenever I walk in my room I feel like the bed rail is my scarlet letter of shame.  It solidifies my inability to make a change in Wyatt's sleeping habits.  I am officially letting him sleep in my bed.  Before at least there was the thought, the possibility, that I might Ferberize him.  Now, it would seem that I have given up hope and the existence of the rail makes me complacent.  Why listen to a baby cry for 2 hours when he will be asleep in 2 minutes?  "Oh, your being fussy.  Let's lay in bed and cuddle."  That's all it takes.  He's out and I have some more time on my hands.  I think it all stems from that I am trying to be the best mom that I can be.  I know that I am making mistakes but I might not outwardly know those mistakes now.  It will be down the road that I will discover all the wrongs I am committing.  But this bed rail is a huge no-no that I am saying yes to.  Is this my downfall as a mother?  Am I putting my sleep needs ahead of Wyatt's ability to sleep on his own in his crib?  When he gets fussy in the middle of the night, he rolls over, tucks his head under my arm and falls back asleep.  Will he ever be able to sleep on his own? 

In addition to all these concerns, it also signifies the last nail in my sex life coffin.  I live with my parents with my son sleeping a stone's throw away and now I have a bed rail that make me look like someone who frequently falls out of the bed.  What 26 year old do you know that needs a bed rail?  Yes, I can hide it but hidden it makes my bed incredibly squeaky and uneven.  Hidden works aesthetically but then makes the bed inoperative.  All my friends say I just need to get creative.  Creative is an understatement.  I need a hotel.  

It's Not Sausage Casing Day, Today's the Day We Race!

I have been pretty down in the dumps lately. So much so that Mom asked if I was pregnant the other night because I was so emotional. Of course, this sent me into a tailspin of "No!! Wait, I'm not emotional! Why are you calling me emotional? I've been totally normal. You think I'm a failure!" Then I started crying which made me realize maybe I was being emotional. Then beyond all reason because it is physically impossible, I convinced myself that maybe I was pregnant and the only thing that could prove my insanity wrong was a EPT test. I spent $15 on the stupid test, only to see the negative, regain my sanity, shake me head and think "Shit. What just happened? You are going crazy!" All of this over the first real tears I have cried since I can't even remember when.

But I digress. There have been a lot of little things that have been on my mind that have been keeping me stressed out. Couple that with Wyatt not sleeping very well due to the never-ending cold and it keeps me in a pretty fowl mood. Or maybe its just not having a full 6 hours of sleep in over a year. But most of all, I have been feeling overwhelmingly worn out. I can deal with worn out. I have dealt with worn out. But what is different now is there seems to be no end in sight. It is like every week is finals week, with tests, restlessness, late night studying, and caffeine highs for the REST OF MY LIFE. It's the day before a big presentation everyday. It's tech/hell week every week. What makes those times bearable is the light at the end of the tunnel. Eventually, the stress will end and you can get some rest. When there is no light how do you see the end? How do you make yourself not worn out when there is no period of rest? It is totally depressing and makes me a rather snippy, unlikable person.

As soon as drowned my mom with this flood of information she asked if there was anything she could do. She already does so much and here she is offering more. Incredible. Unfortunately, I don't think this feeling is going to go away with a weekend of sleep. Because I know that if I actually did take that time all I would be doing is waiting for when I could come home and be with him. I really hate to complain because I feel like I bring most of this on myself. I am the one the feels guilty if I leave him to do something for myself. Even though I know I am a better mother when I get my required "me" time. I am the one that can't seem to let him cry it out so he will sleep through the night. Hearing him cry and not running to his side goes against every motherly instinct I have. I need to be a 26 year old sometimes but I hate being away from him. How do I prioritize relaxation when everything else seems so much more important?

My make shift solution was to read a book. I haven't made time to pick up a book since I was nursing and it is something I really enjoy. It was our routine, I would cozy up in bed with Wyatt on my chest and a book, reading until he fell asleep. I miss that. So, I thought that a book might help be carve some time for myself. Maybe while Wyatt is watching the Backyardigans trying to unwind and take a nap, I could be quietly thumbing a good book. I could do without waking in the middle of the night humming the horrendously rhymed songs from the Backyardigans (as shown in the title). I picked up the Twilight Series that I have been meaning to read for ages. Well, I am so absorbed that I have been barely able to put it down. Forget eating and emailing, laundry and dishes, I have been caught reading standing in the kitchen, for the entireity of his nap, and waiting for the attendant at the gas station. Literally, I started the book Tuesday night and am already on page 218. Instead of solving my problem, I have added another. However, I am starting regain some of my happiness already. I have to stop forgetting about "me" time. Maybe, sometime in the near future, I will put shaving my legs back on the agenda.

The Flood

You know that place in between dreaming and waking where your mind just wanders.  The other night it was raining very hard and it gets a little loud on our high ceiling.  Usually this lulls me to sleep but in my almost sleeping state my mind started rambling.  I don't really know how to write about it so I am just going to give you a play by play:

It is really raining.  Its been raining for almost 29 hours, thats a really long time.  The tide was so high the dock was underwater.  Wyatt loves walking on that dock.  I hope its not structurally unsound after all this rain.  Are we in a flood zone?  Maybe it is going to rain for 40 days and 40 nights.  God is purging the Earth.   That is definitely what is happening.  So, what is the family boat situation?  We've got the canoe which is not ideal for rainy weather.  You can't really sleep on that.  I wonder if we could fit a tent in Grandpa's clam boat.  Does James still have his Boston Whaler?  I bet that Eric would take my family on his sailboat because his family has two boats.  There is a cabin on that and we could use the dingy for storage.  Confining Wyatt on a boat would be like a bull in a china shop.  We would have to stock up on a lot of canned goods.  But I wouldn't want to litter the cans.  We could crush them and keep them with us until we could recycle.  Wait, would there be recycling when everything dried?  Etc, Etc, ad nauseam.

When I woke up in the morning I told my mom and Lizzy my Noah's ark quandary.  They both thought this was a bizarre, morbid, thought process.  Meanwhile I thought everyone had mental ramblings like this.  These are daily occurrences for me.  I am always contemplating "what if" scenarios in microscopic detail.  Like what if I died tomorrow?  What if there was an earthquake?  What if that noise was a murderer coming to kill me?  Or more positive things like what if I won 12 million dollars?  What if I kissed the next person to walk in my house?  What if I moved to Africa with Wyatt strapped on my back to help AIDS orphans?  I guess not all people think like that but if they don't what do they think of? Or do their minds go blank and fuzzy like snow on the TV?

I have had several dreams about floods lately.  Three that I can remember in the past week.  I looked it up in my dream dictionary.  Yes, I have one of those.  Got it at the St. John's fair for $1 and it was totally worth it.  It says a flood represents a powerful emotional cleansing experience or that I am experiencing emotions that may be overwhelming.  Funny part is I can't think of anything that is really overwhelming me at the moment.  Emotionally, I am feeling very happy and contented lately.  I have a great job with a lot of potential.  Lizzy's health is on the upswing.  Wyatt is joyously happy and thriving. I have the best babysitters in the world.  I am trying to have a social life and am enjoying every moment with Eric.  I am feeling very hopeful for a good year.  Yes, there are some icky things but none that are grossly overwhelming.  I guess I have to think on it some more because these flood dreams just keep on coming.

Whiney Ranting - Be Warned

I was once again under the misinterpertation that I would be able to get things done while I was at home. Wyatt was on a fairly decent schedule of 2 naps a day while I was working. I foolishly assumed that when I was home the 3 napping hours would equal lots of productivity. Some days it works out but most of the time I still feel tasks piled upon me. Or worse yet I feel like I got a lot accomplished then take a step back and realize I have done only a fraction of what could have been.  I guess, on a good day, I feel like I can get all my chores accomplished but I never seem to have enough time to focus on personal things. Things like getting freelance articles together to see if I can sell them to magazines; or looking for jobs in case I stumble upon my dream job; or collecting pictures to start Wyatt's scrapbook; or calling to catch up with friends; or reading my Ferber book to try to get Wyatt to sleep through the night.

Recently he seems to be consolidating his sleep. He will be out for 45 minutes in the morning which is about the time it takes me to eat breakfast, shower, and get ready. Then in the afternoon he might sleep for 2-3 hours but I never really know how long so it is hard to plan anything. There is nothing that I hate worse then starting something that I cannot finish. It kills me, like when you are trying to remember an actors name in a movie. Its hangs over my head until it is completed. In the afternoon I try to get laundry done, clean a bit, make baby food, eat lunch, and pack the car if we are going out.  Yes, I do have night time. Wyatt goes to sleep around 8:30 but he is still waking 1-2 times a night. I try to get to bed early and before my bedtime I write this blog, check email, maybe catch a TV show that I have DVRed and doesn't contain Mickey Mouse, the Backyardigans, or Johnny and the Sprites.

I guess what this long winded whine of a post is trying to say is that I feel pressed for time, all the time.  Which I guess is a truth to all life regardless of how many dependents you have.   I guess when I was single I at least had the time to procrastinate.  Now, I feel that every second of my life needs to be used in a productive way.  I have always been a good multi-tasker but this juggling has been elevated to an art form.  I truly love staying home with Wyatt but every once and a while (a rare while) I get overwhelmed with how structured my life has become.  Overwhelmed with how many daily tasks are on my to-do-list and with how my own needs have been thrown by the wayside. 

I thought that maybe I should cash in on some of the numerous and generous sitter offers so I could spend some time getting things accomplished.  But then I first remember how anal I am regarding Wyatt and secondly I remember how distressed, bored, and antisy I get when he sleeps past 2 hours.  I remember how I pace around the house looking for small tasks to occupy myself until he wakes up.  I never expected that I would be this kind of protective parent.  One of the many things I learned about myself this year.  As a makeshift solution, I have started utilizing the playpen.  Wyatt is perfectly content in there surrounded by toys playing happily so I have been allowing myself guiltless chore checking.  I really don't mind that much but need to vent every now and then.  I like to feel accomplished at the end of the day and I seem to been running on a deficit lately.  I'll get there eventually.