Happy Anniversary, Lovatis!

Hope you had a wonderful first anniversary, Jill & Mike! Looking forward to posting baby congrats in the next few days!

it's happened...

I spent 30 minutes of my day thus far changing doll clothes. And I'm scared to death that that number will only grow with the number of dolls in the house.

the week, colds, fevers & Obama

Got the dreaded daycare call on Tuesday saying Grace was running a fever...yes, our little Tugboat of the Week missed a day and a half of her 5-day reign...what was that I was saying about a Tugboat of the Week runner up?

It hit me on Wednesday evening, although I powered through it long enough to catch Bill Clinton's speech that night. After putting in almost a half-day at work on Thursday morning, I decided I really needed to go home to sleep...and I did...for 3-1/2 glorious hours...and I still felt like crap when I got up. Sam also was not feeling well that evening and Grace still seemed a little rundown. We got everyone to bed pretty early that night, and considering I had slept the afternoon away, I decided I wasn't going let the fact that I wasn't feeling well make me miss history in the making.

And after listening to Mr. Obama speak for 50 minutes, I went to bed hopeful for the next four (hopefully eight) years and what they might mean for my children who endured a 7-month stint with unqualified early childhood educators who never had the time or support to address each child's needs and personalities on an individual basis. I was left hopeful that maybe, in the near future, my sister and her family, if they decided they wanted to, would be able to sell their house for a decent price, move and not be left with a leftover mortgage because the value of their home has plummeted in the last year. I was left hopeful that, in weeks like this one, Kris and I won't have to choose between our jobs and our sick kids...that we won't feel like we are being pulled in two different directions, since our kids should always come first. And hopeful that some of my close friends will be allotted the same rights with the loves of their lives that I am with mine. And those are just the really personal points for me. Beyond that, the list is too numerous to mention.

And I know there are some opposed to this man leading this country. And I know there are some that say that the last eight years are just part of the natural economical cycle. In the end, I hope that what's important is realized, because I need to give my kids the best future possible. And I think sending Barack Obama to the White House will play a role in that.

training for 2024

Happened upon a cheap kiddie pool on clearance at Toys R' Us last week. Sam and Grace are loving it (even if Grace refuses to sit down in it). Sam, in particular, can't get enough of it since he wandered out of bed at 11:30 one night last week just in time to witness Michael Phelps win his eighth gold medal of the Summer Games in Beijing. Below are a couple videos of his own version of the "B-lympics", as he calls it. You can also catch Grace's newly-acquired Southern accent in the second clip as she yells her brother's name.




Right after I stopped recording this last one, he told me "Michael Phelps is feeling a little sick." I guess Michael Phelps needs to remember to not swallow the water while setting world records in the 200 m butterfly.

A few more photos from waterplay on Saturday:

I'm admitting I have a problem...someone please help me

My darling little girl has been awarded the highly-esteemed, daycare-center-wide-recognized honor of "Tugboat of the Week" this week. (Her class is the Tugboats...instead of grade levels, since they are not old enough to be in grades, yet, they have named their classes after items in the sea...tugboats, starfish, sailboats, dolphins, jellyfish, etc...one day I'm sure I'll hear her reminisce..."oh, how I remember fondly my days as a Tugboat".) We received official word of the exciting development a little over a week ago. Thus began the downward spiral of her psycho designer mother's sanity.

When we were informed of Grace's new, temporary title, we were also informed that we would need to create a poster for her week-long reign that would be displayed outside the door to her classroom. (Hmmm...I wonder if there is a Tugboat of the Week first runner up...someone who would take over as Tugboat of the Week should the actual Tugboat of the Week be unable to fulfill his or her duties.) I had seen previous recipient's posters hanging from week to week. They were always fine...a few pictures, the name of the kid. But now that it was Grace's turn, all I could think when I recalled the classmates' posters was...amateurs. Awful, I know...but you have to understand that apparently I'm ill. I mean, where was the depth, the visual interest, the inspiring photography?

And so, I started sketching possibilities for a layout...I even considered a flat print, largescale for a split second, then remembered that, oh yeah, Kris might have a heart attack if I shelled out $100 for this thing. I spent the last several days combing through photo files to narrow down to the most riveting photos to highlight the amazing moments of Grace's 27-month life. After that grueling process, I spent a couple of hours retouching these photos so that the light and shadows were consistent and perfect from photo to photo. Then execution of the piece began. Hours of cutting and framing and taping and typing and printing. And the final result:

Kris thinks maybe we should frame it afterwards...I'm worried that it may be too heavy to tape to the wall at school...and Grace would have been happy with one big, old, horrible picture of Cinderella. Thankfully, she's too young to be overly opinionated (she's just happy I let her color a small picture to be included on the finished piece)...I'm dreading the day Sam comes home with a note saying he has been named "Dolphin of the Week"...I'm having an anxiety attack just thinking of the dozens of awful little creepy talking train stickers I'm going to have to include on his display.

Mom, Grace took my Lollie...

Grace recently discovered my favorite childhood possession. Some kids had blankies, I had Lollie. I'm really trying to work through this...is it weird to be 29 and get jealous if your 2-year-old plays with your toys?

Tuesday

The only day Sam will drag his own little hiney out of bed at the crack of dawn. His motivation: the garbage truck.

eating my words...

Remember a couple of weeks ago when I said all was going great with the big girl bed? Yeah, I think I jinxed myself. Grace is driving me insane with the getting out of bed every 3.62 minutes and wandering around the house. For the past week, I've gotten nothing done in the evenings because I'm constantly putting her back into bed. Tonight, I put a baby gate in her doorway, but really just as a slight deterrent since I know she can climb them. At least now she can't waltz out of her room without making a noise...at this point tonight, I have caught her three times mid-climb (and mid-grunt) going over the gate...

...make that four. Ugh. I had to have known it was coming...Sam went through the exact same stage. I remember sitting upstairs at the old house a year ago talking with my sister on the phone, when Sam tiptoes down the hallway with myself in plain view. As he reached the end of the hallway before stepping out to be exposed to the stairwell, he whisper-shouts across the living room to me, "Hey Mommy! Where'd Daddy go?" since Kris had just put him back into bed. Seriously! Like I was the one sitting in the getaway car waiting for him to sneak run out of the bank he just held up...like I was the one waiting to whisper-shout back "the coast is clear!" I remember looking at him with my are-you-freakin-kidding-me-with-this-after-I-put-you-into-bed-
for-the-fifteeth-time-and-Daddy-only-came-up-for-the-last-
trip-to-your-room? look on my face, then throwing in the towel that night and laying in his bed because I had no other solutions.

I guess I just thought Grace would never get to this point. Don't ask me why...I have no idea. Maybe because she's always been so self-sufficient while we've been catering to Sam. Since he was only 16 months when she was born, we were always making sure he didn't get upset since we didn't want him to disturb the baby. When Sam hit the getting-out-of-bed stage (amongst other 2-year-old quirks), I started to realize I had created an attention-demanding older kid while creating an infant who really didn't demand much attention at all.

It seems now, the roles have reversed. Now Grace is demanding the attention...she has become that typical two-year-old. The one you see screaming in the store or laying on the floor in a restaurant with snot and tears all over her face, or smacking her mother or father. The one who gets out of bed every 3.62 minutes.

God help us. We just got beyond this with Sam a few months ago. But it does make me wonder if I can stop blaming myself for Sam's "terrible twos". Maybe I didn't create that afterall...maybe your typical two-year-old just goes through this. I'm going to keep telling myself this...makes me feel like maybe I actually am doing things right and my kids were just predestined to hit the terrible twos. Maybe.

you'd think there was Italian blood running through his veins...

Kris is so in love with pizza that he has decided to implement "pizza night" with the kids. Really, he is so in love with it, that he would love to implement "pizza for eternity" but I won't let him subject our kids to that. I feel they could use some variety in their diet. That is, if alternating between macaroni & cheese and jelly sandwiches counts as variety. Hey, it's not my fault they're going through that phase where they refuse most everything new. It used to be that Sam would wait for Grace to try something new and then make his decision on whether or not it would pass through his lips by the reaction that his sister had to it. Sometimes, it worked out great and we actually got a couple of bites into both of them. But a couple of months ago, Grace decided that she no longer was open to trying anything new...so here we are...relying on yogurt, grapes, sausage, macaroni & cheese, jelly sandwiches, spaghetti, green beans, corn, pizza...and multivitamins.

They really enjoyed making the pizza with Daddy, but I fear there is no chance anymore of sneaking any veggies into them that way if they are the ones putting the toppings on...

lucky number seven

Erin & Kris
August 11, 2001

Happy anniversary, Hon. I love you.

American Idol, here we come...

document it...

Kris and I rarely have our picture taken, just the two of us...it seems I'm always taking the pictures, so I rarely end up in them. So when we get a couple that are decent, it's exciting!
These were taken last weekend at Kelly & Tony's wedding. May be good enough to frame. Or pass out in the Christmas cards. Nevermind, the whole family would just ask, "Why aren't the kids in this?" That's right...we're now just known as the people they have to go through to get to the kids.

call me crazy

I miss agency life. I know, advertising is grueling. Yes I was underpaid, overworked and underappreciated. Yes, I had such a long commute to work that I barely saw my kids during the week. Yes, when I was away from work, I was constantly thinking about what I had to deal with as soon as I got in the next day.

But then there are the things that constantly enter my mind...the aspects that now make me realize that, even though I was stressed out at times and annoyed that I should have been making more for the amount of work I was doing, I was really happy there. I was inspired creatively by the amazing group of talent that I interacted with on a daily basis. I made some of the best friends in my life and even brought one other best friend in to work there, as well.

There was a social aspect to work. After Sam was born, and 16 months later, Grace was born, I was a busy, working mom who didn't have much time to do much of anything in the evenings or on the weekends except feed and bathe kids and clean up the house and do laundry. But I didn't resent it, probably because of the social setting I walked in to for 8...9...sometimes 10 or 11 hours of the day, 5 days a week.

We worked our asses off, but also formed a support group amongst each other. We worked on a large variety of nationally-recognized clients. We shared most meals during the work day together and a few here and there after work. We gathered around the islands in the sea of cubicles to share an afternoon snack (or a "smoke break" of popcorn). We scoped out the yummy leftovers from client meetings. We sat in the dark...the sweet, calm dark. We sang with each other over the cube walls. We had ridiculous, insider, made-up scenarios that we created a game of pulling over on freelancers. We had mini-Olympics to see who could hurdle an island and actually make it over without hurting themselves (and I'm still laughing over it). We gathered to discuss LOST, Project Runway, Survivor, Everwood, The Biggest Loser, The Office, Scrubs, Grey's Anatomy...the list goes on...

We lost a couple along the way to exciting moves to other agencies. We were sad to see them go, but still had a large group left.

We kept each others' pregnancies a secret until we were far enough along to spread the word around the office. We had baby pools, and basketball pools, and bets on who would get engaged or knocked up next. We celebrated holidays together...office parties, non-office parties, Halloweens, Christmases. We had wedding showers and baby showers. Our significant others became friends...our kids became friends.

Then, the Great Turnover of '06 started and we kept each others' interviews and job prospects a secret. And we had bets on who would be the next to leave. We had going-away parties. And then we left, one by one.

Now there are only a handful from the "original" group still there and when they talk about others at work, I don't usually recognize the names. And when I go into work now, I sit in my quiet little corner under the awful florescent lights and listen to the sound of forklifts through the wall. I eat my lunch at my desk or with my husband, who I'll see every evening, and I talk to others from my department, who sit a state away, through email or on the phone and...I miss agency life.

So, this past weekend was an important one. A few of the old crew was able to gather to celebrate the wedding of a former co-worker. Kris and I were also able to sneak in a visit with another old co-worker (the one who was a best friend before she came to work with me) and her husband the night before the wedding. We ate, drank, reminisced, laughed, danced, broke glasses, watched drunks and then it was over.

And I'm happy for the mini-reunion. But wishing we could all see each other more often.

I miss agency life.

life is good...

I was slightly discouraged this evening by the daily reports from school. After talking about events that transpired today, both kids went on to eat a great dinner including most of their veggies. After dinner, they helped me prune and water the flowers. Then we went for a walk...they walked our entire almost-mile loop holding hands the whole way. When we got home, they had separate baths and each of them played quietly while the other was getting washed up. Pjs on with no arguments. Grace sat still to get her hair braided (the first time ever!) while Sam read us a story. Teeth brushing went beautifully and both walked out of the bathroom showing off their shiny, white "shark" teeth. They are now both in their beds listening to their music while they fall asleep. And the time is 8:37. My faith in their ability to behave has been renewed and I'm off to start a load of laundry and work on painting the dining room. Life is good.

I'm a loser, baby...

We've been working with Sam quite a bit on his letters, lately. I've been trying to come up with fun associations with each one so he remembers something significant about them. He knows that "elephant" (one of his favorite animals) begins with the letter "E" and that "W" can be found on the green garbage trucks from our old neighborhood and is also the first letter in his friend, Wes', name. He recognizes "R" and talks about the color "red" starting with that letter. But, by far, his favorite letter to date is the letter "L". No, not because "lion" starts with that letter (although that is unbelievably exciting to him). It's because his genius mother taught him that he could make the letter "L" with his forefinger and his thumb. Now anyone we see at the grocery store...school...church...gets to see this and wonder why my son is calling them a loser.