In an old house in Paris

Madeline is a standard in our house. So much so, that on nights when Monkey continues to want stories long after it's time to sleep, she recites it to herself in the dark. Four year old rebellion.

Good thing the lights are already off and she can't see me grinning like a fool.

God grant me the serenity.

How do you wrangle with the green-eyed monster? I need some guidance.

We have a lot. We really do. We have a great house, healthy kids, secure jobs. We earn more than well more than half of this country, and once you think globally... it's not fair. I know this rationally. But there are things we cannot have that I struggle with. It's mostly the non-material things that require financial resources. I'd like another child. But I'd also like the two kids I have to want for nothing... at least nothing important. And we think school choice - which for our area means private schools - is more important that just about anything. And even though our new nanny is a rockstar and I can honestly say I have NO concerns with her, I'd like to be my kids' own nanny. I want her job, and she works for me. There are other things, of course, like world travel and a bigger house, but those are secondary to the things that really make my heart hurt.

How do you talk yourself out of these wants? I feel whiny and ungrateful, and I'm trying to shelve them, but they don't go away.

Counting my blessings...

...and enjoying the ride. That's the title of my next life chapter. With the official start of our new nanny yesterday, me on week five of new job, and summer activities in close to full swing, we're out of transition. Which is good, because I really suck at managing transition.

Monkey did SO much better with the departure of our temporary nanny than I'd expected. Part probably owing to the very conscious gradual start of new nanny, and part to her age and greater realization of the role a nanny will really play in our lives. I really can't blame her. When someone spends 40+ hours a week caring for you and lives in your house, of course they start to seem like a permanent member of the family.

Lion is just fabulous. He's at the sweetest stage, all cuddles and smiles and new words. He's also busy as all get out, and learning how to work the world to his advantage. If you try to take something away from him (remote, diaper cream, phone) that he wants to keep, his first line of defense is to rest his sweet little head on your shoulder and snuggle with you. Manipulative little charmer. How'd he figure that out so fast?

Here he his with his lovie, Rhino. I thought I was super smart and got two new ones for when the first inevitably got grubby, but he caught right on and now has to have all three Rhinos in bed with him. Crap. Does that mean I need another nine in safekeeping? Are all three going to get nasty simultaneously?

Like riding a bike...

...you just jump right back on and start pedaling, right?

Our lives have sustained a huge amount of transition in the past few weeks. As I mentioned earlier, our nanny of seven months left with very little notice in April, leaving us hostage to whatever it took to make child care possible, and sucking up every moment of my time - spare and otherwise - to finding both immediate/temporary and long term child care.

There was yelling. There were tears. There was a significant sleep deficit. There was also my acceptance, for the first time, that as desperately as I want another child, we just may not be able to handle it. If it wasn't for my Dad and mother-in-law, who covered many, many days of care for the kids, I likely would have lost my job. As it was, I exhausted literally every last hour of leave I had painstakingly hoarded back from maternity leave.

And then I left my job. I'd been unhappy there and hunting for a while (read: years), but to no avail. Then I was fidgeting with my iPhone during a meeting and noticed I had a message on LinkedIn. From a recruiter. For a firm I know and respect, but hadn't reached out to on my own. It was job karma. So I did three rounds of interviews and got an offer. An actual good one. With flexibility. Working for... get this... a MOM! Of multiple, young children!

The clouds have parted, people.

So maybe it wouldn't have mattered if I'd lost my job? Just kidding.

So I started here last week, and while I'm still getting my sea legs under me, I'm really happy so far. Fingers crossed for me, ok?

Back to the nanny front, we have temporary coverage in the form of a wonderful college student - also the daughter of Monkey's preschool teacher. So we, Monkey included, already knew and loved her, and she's been a Godsend in getting us through. We have a new live-in nanny starting in the next few weeks, and I think she's going to be a rock star. Again, keep your fingers (and toes!) crossed for us, as I really don't think we can handle another nanny transition. This one has been really, really hard on Monkey, and we're still figuring out how to get her fully back on her spunky little feet. But it has shaken her confidence in the predictability of her life, and that is yet another variable in the neverending self-loathing of a working Mom.

Birthdays

Note to self: Learn to appreciate times when you're special. Monkey appreciated EVERY moment of her birthday to the fullest. I swear she giggled for 24 hours straight, and it was infectious. This is a good lesson in just being plain old happy. Thanks, kiddo.

Falling off the wagon.

I think I'm falling... jumping?... off the blog challenge wagon. I did it because I loved the ideas of what to write about, and liked the structure I though it would impose. Yes, structure. I've already told you I'm boring. But I don't have time to write about anything else, and of course (of course!) I'm suddenly full of things I want to write about. So maybe the challenge has served it's purpose already?

But really, I hate not finishing something I've started. Makes me feel like a bad egg. A quitter. so I'm arguing with myself. If you can't finish a blog challenge what CAN you commit to?

You'll see what I decide.

In the meantime, my winter routine continues apace. Kid gets sick, kid gets medicine. Kid starts to feel better, someone else gets sick. We've been there nearly constantly since November. I think it started the day before Thanksgiving, actually. Got a new presciption for Monkey yesterday - she has an ear infection. Since Lion had a double last week, I know where it came from. Although it marks the first time he gave something to his sister and not the other way around. Way to go, Lion! I love milestones.

On the up-side, I think we found a new primary doc at the pediatrician's. I've been jumping around to find someone else there since deciding I couldn't depend on the current one. But the woman yesterday was AWEsome. She's new to the practice, so pretty easy to get appointments with, and she was SO good with Monkey. My big girl did the whole exam by herself; followed all the instructions, didn't flinch at a thing. Giggled tons, which is impressive considering how uncomfortable she was. Huge relief to me to have someone I know I can ask for at appointment time. Yay!

Happy birthday, Lion!

This is my Lion, on the day he was born. A year ago, today. Can I still call him my baby? Because I'm not ready for the word 'toddler.' Not ready for him to stop being my baby.

Those were an amazing few days. I drank him in, knowing when we got home there would be a big sister to reassure. So he slept on my chest, and I didn't let him go if I didn't have to, and we got to know each other. Kept him as close as if he was still inside me. I had worried I couldn't possibly love anyone as much as I loved Monkey, but it was easy for Lion to become a huge place in my chest that gets tight whenever he smiles. Or lately, tries to scale me or anything within reach.

Lion is pure light; easy with laughs and clapping. The biggest flirt in the world. This stillness has been replaced by 25 wiry pounds of all action as he shows the world his stuff. I itch to see who he'll become. He is sweet but strong, mellow but constant movement, and he knows his mind even as he methodically chooses his moments. How is it I have been trusted with this little life?

Ten Things about Lion at One

1. He moves. Oh, how he moves. He's a crazy little crawling speed demon, and can pull up fluidly on something before you know he's crossed the room. He moves CONSTANTLY. Bring him into bed to snuggle? He's kneeling on your head, banging on the headboard. Then on Daddy. Then heading for the edge of the bed. Yikes!

2. He's a climber. We now have four gates in our house (Monkey only required one), because Lion loves to climb stairs. If he sees the gate open, he'll patiently wait until you aren't watching him, and then he'll sprint for it and howl at you if you manage to catch him first.

3. He loves lights. Our wonderful nanny has taught him some sign language, but it's the sign for light that has really taken. He points up at them and makes the sign and grins.

4. He's a future electronics geek. All about remotes, phones, and anything that lights up or makes noises. He likes to pull out the sliding shelf for the DVD player and push the buttons. If you're holding him the kitchen, he's likely climbing up you to reach for the buttons on the oven.

5. He pretends to use the phone. Or anything else that resembles one. He found an old remote mouse the other day, held it on top of his head, and said, HELL-O!" Brought me to my knees.

6. He's big on the bathroom. Turn him loose and he'll head there every time. Just like the stairs, he watches the bathroom door to see if you've left it open for him. If he makes it in there, he has three options. 1. Splash in the toilet. Lion LOVES to splash. Makes me regret waiting his baptism for this spring, because he's going to get the Rector wet, no doubt. 2. Play in Monkey's potty. Probably the germiest thing in our house. Yuck. 3. Climb in the bathtub. Source of my worst nightmares, as he dives in head-first. The one time he made it this far, he immediately pulled up on the faucet and Turned.It.On. Bathroom door now stays closed. Always. And I need to find one of those safety handle/locks for the faucet.

7. He likes to drop things, mostly so he can say, "Oh-oh!" So cute. He's fast heading into that 'How many times will you pick it up if I drop it?' phase.

8. He's tough skinned when it comes to illness, but has a really hard time with teething. Poor baby. He bumps his head and slams his fingers constantly (see #1 and 2).

9. He looooves his sister. His face lights up when she enters the room, even if he's about to be tackled. Over over-hugged, as we've come to call it.

10. If you say the word Yay! in his presence, he'll clap and grin at you. Really, all it takes is the Y sound at the beginning of any word. He's quick to express his approval. You found your keys, Mommy? Clapclapclapclapclapbiggrin. I'm going to start making him help me pick out clothes so he can cheer at everything. Total ego boost. Best kid ever.

I love you, Lion. Happy Birthday!

This is what actually happened on Lion's birthday, for the record. Turns out he had a terrible double ear infection. Poor kid was miserable. We tried to get him to eat just a nibble of cake, but then he rubbed his face and got icing in his eyes. Bad scene. We're going to celebrate again in May with a proper party.

And the rest of the weekend...

I feel like we had a pretty chill weekend.  But when I list out what we actually did, it was pretty busy.  And that makes me proud, actually.  That we had lots of experiences without feeling hassled.  It's a lot of what I'm shooting for lately.  Aside from Princesses on Ice, our other big moment was Lion's first trip to the Emergency Room.  The kid is ridiculously physical, so I knew it was coming, but I sort of expected to get past his first birthday.  Nope. 

Sunday morning, in the midst of the usual slow getting moving, Hubbie put Lion up on the bed.  To keep him away from the panic button, which is his new target du jour.  Did you know our house had a panic button?  Neither did we.  We knew we had two buttons and a switch low on the wall that had never done anything.  But apparently when pushed in a certain order (that only Lion knows), they act as a panic button.  We learned this last week when Lion activated it.  Now THAT was exciting.  We had to turn it off at the fuse box, since it seems the alarm doesn't even have to be on for it to work.  Lovely.

So now every time he's in our room, Lion heads straight for the panic button.  And Hubbie, hoping to avoid a repeat, put him up on the bed.  Except Lion still headed for the panic button, by going head-first off the bed.  The goose-egg turned up quickly with a bleeding scratch to the forehead.  I was going to be calm about it (I swear!)" until I saw blood underneath his nose.  Petrified that something in his head was now bleeding out his nose, we went straight to the ER.  Freaking completely out.

They were lovely and helpful and quick (relatively).  And agreed that a nosebleed could have been a really bad sign.  Except in this case, it just meant he had also scratched himself under the nose.  So false alarm.  I know Hubbie thinks I overreact to these things, but I have NO qualms about a better-safe-than-sorry posture to medical care.  Period.  No questions asked.  And I don't feel stupid about it, I feel relieved.  And when Monkey and I did her gratefuls that night, she was grateful he was okay.  And I was, too.

This was one of those wonderful, event and sometimes drama-filled weekends.  Lots going on, but it's all blurring together in my head.  All in all, pretty successful and fun. 

I took Monkey to Princesses on Ice this weekend.  She's never been the Princessy type, but she looooves Belle from Beauty and the Beast.  And I love figure skating and sort of hope she will, too, someday, so I thought this would be fun.  And it was.  We rode the metro, which she adores, and I totally gave in to the crass Disney commercialism which abounded.  Lost a lot of respect for Disney, actually.  They resorted to every parent-hated sales strategy there is, including parading light-up toys made of crap Chinese plastic and super-sugary brightly colored nasty not-really-food up and down the aisles during every pause.  There was no escaping it.  And the toy I ultimately sprung for - a Barbie knock-off of Belle - is total trash.  Twenty-two dollars of I'm embarrassed my kid owns this trash.  Belle's dress might as well be made of paper, her hair is nasty, and her head comes off a few times a day.  The shoes she came with don't fit.  Are just too small.... it's bizarre.  Why would you even provide shoes for a doll that will NEVER FIT on the doll's foot?!?  So I'll tred carefully around Disney in the future, which is sad.

Anyway, we really had a lovely time, overall.  It really hit me very hard, actually, going to this big show with her.  So many people, such chaos, but such flutters in her little heart over the excitement.  And when we walked into the arena and the light were low, and Tinkerbell was already skating and we hurried down the dark stairs so we wouldn't miss a single minute of it.... I started to cry.  Happy tears.  For some reason it was all very overwhelming and felt like a huge childhood milestone.  She's just such a KID now.  I was just bursting with who knows what?  Sappiness?  Totally.  It was great.  I know, that's hugely hypocritical.  Can I love the experience of the trashy show but hate the trash?  Love the game but hate the player?  For now, I'm okay with that.  But the next movie I introduce her to will probably be Pixar.  :)

Oh. My. GAWD.

Hubbie isn't working this weekend.

[pause] [pause] [pause]

Apparently they finished the document and are taking a quick breather before moving on to build the oral presentation. Overwhelmed with riches. Don't even know what to do with myself. Ourselves. Who only knows. Giddy.

Trying to be grateful.

I'm trying really hard to be grateful these days.  It's been a really hard year.  Post-partum depression, multiple child care disasters, significant health worries about kids, and husband working seven days a week until after midnight.  My work leadership changed, and the new folks don't support alternative schedules or telework, so while I've added a second child and rarely have the support of a spouse, I have also gone way, way backward on the flexibility I need, and used to have, to juggle it all.  We've also both had pay freezes - mine will continue for several years, and he actually made less this year.  So we've added a second child and a full time nanny but have less to cover it.  We had always expected to put the kids in private school - that's how we both grew up and we aren't thrilled with our public option - but that's looking unlikely.

I can cut back budgets, juggle, work longer after bedtime, etc, but there are two things that come out of this that I'm really struggling with. The school thing is big for me.  Education has always been a HUGE priority.  The other is that I've always wanted three kids.  I don't feel like our family is complete yet, deep down in my gut.  Someone is missing.  But with money and schedules already tight, three seems like a bad idea.  And would make private schools for any of them much further out of reach.  I'm not young enough to believe we can wait several years, hope things get better, and try later.  This is really, really hard for me. 

BUT.  And this is a big, big 'but.'  I have two healthy, amazing kids.  We have two relatively stable jobs.  We have a nice roof over our heads, and are not in fear of ever being hungry.  We live in a safe, friendly neighborhood.  I know all this.  It's why I'm in public policy, frankly, and why I focus on low-income programs.  We are really, really lucky.  And then I think more broadly - around the world.  I look at recent events in Egypt, or anywhere there is ongoing conflict.  And we are so blessed to not know any of those conditions.  So we're lucky.  And I should quit feeling frustrated by the things I thought my life would be.  Because what we do have is the most important.  It's just hard to see sometimes.