Happy Birthday, Monkey

I can't believe my Monkey is four. Somehow, four seems to cross the line into official childhood. She's clearly not a baby, toddler hasn't applied well for a while, and preschooler is too combersome. So what label could apply now other than plain old 'kid'?

How do I have a KID? I'm actually having a hard time with this. I nearly teared up giving her "my last hug as a three-year old" last night. Clearly, she is not struggling with this at all. Full steam ahead, Monkey.

My Monkey is everything. She is all the best, purest parts of me, unblemished by life's ups and downs. I am cowed by the responsibility I have been trusted with in this little person, in who she can become. Someone thinks I won't screw this up? Someone thinks I can do this justice? I sincerely hope I am up to the challenge.

Dear Monkey,

Happy Birthday! I hope you know by now that you are endlessly loved. That just thinking of you makes me smile and swell with pride. That you have endless potential, and that it is Daddy's and my job to make sure any path you want to travel is open to you.

You are strong, and sweet, and full of life. Grammy says you glow, and she's right. You wake every morning and greet the day with happy feist. You are turning into a wonderful friend. You understand the value of taking care with people's feelings, and you are a wonderful big sister to Lion. Do you see how his face lights up when you enter the room? That one laugh from you can make him giggle in his sleep? Keep taking care of that bond and you will have a best friend forever.

As you get ready to turn four, you are in full Princess mode. Your birthday party is going to be outside and not especially girly, but you chose Princess plates, and decorations; mostly because you love Beauty and the Beast. You are my ballerina in training, and you hold lots of ballet (and sometimes tap) classes and performances for us. Often we must dance alongside you. You also love to dress up, and you are developing strong opinions about your clothes. We've had a lot of all-one-color outfit days lately. Monday you wore all blue, including socks, shoes, and bow. You tell us your favorite colors are blue and red, but you added pink to the list this week. While you won't eat meat except as chicken nuggets, you love sushi. My little enigma. You don't know you're little, though. Smallest in your class by far, you regularly tell us you're the biggest.

You are very interested in letters, and you can write your name easily. Your letters are getting neater, and you can make them small now if you want to. You know all of the letters and can figure out the beginning and ending sounds of words. You are starting to sound out and guess at the words you see on paper. You are also starting to turn numbers around in your head, and you will count anything. "Mommy - how many arms are in this car? How many toes are in this car?" You and Daddy started a game taking turns with numbers, and you can get all the way to 100! You are also starting to understand adding and taking away numbers, especially since we've been counting down to your birthday for 23 days now!

You are beautiful, inside and out. People stop us and tell us you're gorgeous, stunning, lovely, and I wish they'd stop. It was fine when you were too little to understand, but that is not what I want you to value about yourself. Please don't pay any attention to them. You are also smart and kind and strong.

You love to give hugs, and we love to get them. At night, we decide on our favorite part of the day, and we do our gratefuls to make sure we remember just how lucky we are. Tonight I will tell you that YOU are my grateful. Truth is, you are my grateful every night, because we are just so, so lucky to have you.

I love you, Monkey.

Mommy

I have a book problem.

I'm a pretty voracious reader, but when you have two kids under two and a more than full time job, you don't get them time to read that you used to. I used to go through a book or two a week, and reading is a big part of my preferred bedtime routine. These days, though, I get to read maybe once or twice a week.

Hasn't slowed down my rate of acquisition, though. I just grabbed another three books online Friday, and soon they'll arrive to be added to the nightstand pile. It's dominated by books about kids, discipline, and parenting, with a few just for fun fiction books in between. Since the age-oriented parenting books currently dominate my stack, I figure I'll run those down first.

I had a whole slew of pregnancy books. Totally loved Great Expectations (no, not Dickens); totally despised What to Expect When You're Expecting. I've never had a book make me feel so badly about myself so fast; and every time it freaked me out enough to consult my OB, the doctor told me to chill. So I got rid of it. But Great Expectations was really helpful in understanding what was going on with my body and still treating me like a grown-up.

I never really got into a steady relationship with an infant book that tracked milestones. The good ones try hard to caveat every milestone to make sure you don't freak out when your baby seems behind the curve, and I appreciated that. Honestly, the most helpful thing for me at this phase was Gymboree. The teachers there were amazing at tailoring the classes to each child, and I swear Miss Erika is at least partially responsible for pulling me out of PPD by showing me I wasn't a total failure as a mother. The Baby Center weekly email updates were good, too.

In general, though, I thought Happiest Baby on the Block was helpful. Even though an asthmatic could have blown their 'scientific evidence' apart, the ideas themselves still worked, particularly for calming my newborns. I hear the DVD is good, too, but I instinctively devalue any book made into a movie. :)

What has really resonated for me since then is the "Your x Year-Old" series. So far my favorite is "Your Three-Year Old, Friend or Enemy?" Totally dead on description of Monkey at three, especially the fact that three-year olds push back on their Moms more than anyone else, and that it's hard (!) to not lose ground in the relationship by responding to them. The authors totally admitted they had no advice for stopping it, and suggested that you consider cutting your losses and just having someone else look after the child while that behavior continued. Awesome. No, seriously. I love these books.

They're relatively short, and written in this sort of antiquated, lovely language that reminds me of an old, British country pediatrician. ('Cause I've known a lot of those, right?) But they're frank, and do a good job of explaining why certain behaviors are taking root and offering real suggestions about what to do about it. I'm tempted to buy one for every year of age, just to have them on hand. I definitely read them in advance to know what's coming, too.

My latest purchases have been discipline related, but I'm sorry to say I haven't actually read them. I did manage to skim relevant sections of 1-2-3 Magic on the advice of friends, and it seems like it would be sound if I could get it implemented. Working on that, I promise.

Deep thought for the day.

Motherhood... is looking down and realizing that there is a big spot of something on your sweater, and not even being embarrassed. It is also quickly considering putting your jacket on to cover it, but giving up when because there is an even bigger spot on that. It is also not even bothering to tell yourself you'll take them to the dry cleaners, because you well know that just isn't going to happen.

Blog Challenge - Day 26.

Day 26. What would you like your Grandchildren to remember about you one day?

These questions are getting intense! Apologies if they're too serious, but I wouldn't be doing them justice if I wasn't sincere. If you've read back the past month or two, you know that we've had a heck of a winter, and I'm not talking about weather. Lots of illness, a few real scares, and a Hubbie working around the clock leaving me to go solo much of the time. I've reoriented quite a few fundamentals of our life, and been pretty pleased with how we've fared. But I had a Eureka! moment about a month ago.

You see, I'm a consensus builder by nature, and I'm always trying to make as many people happy as possible. But consensus building doesn't work when you're hanging by a thread, and there were too many decisions that just couldn't wait until the next time I got to see or even talk to my husband. Much less actually have a long conversation with him.

So I started just acting without consulting, and it dawned on me one night that what this family needed was a Matriarch. A good, old fashioned, this.is.how.it's.done Matriarch. No nonsense, no consensus needed. (That doesn't mean he doesn't have a say, but it means he trusts me to know when he really wants to have input. Funny - turns out he did all along.) Matriarch meaning there are things we do, and things we don't, and that's the end. Not by making it about me personally or what I want, but by sheer force of will.

So of course I want my Grandchildren to think of me as warm, and kind, and involved. As always, always available to them; as a shelter in a storm. But I think I'm going to need that mantle of the lady that held it all together. Although if I'm truly successful, they shouldn't ever know that I had it.

Blog Challenge - Day 24. The home stretch!

Day 24. What is God teaching you presently?

This question is both harder and easier for me than it was a few years ago. Then, I would have told you that I was more of a science kind of girl. My exploration of faith was pretty static, although I've always known there has to be something beyond our understanding. What's outside of our universe? OK, and after that? And after that? What about after that? It all has to end somewhere, right? Right?

You get the picture.

Becoming a parent puts faith in an entirely different light. I look at those two people that came, conceivably, from nothing. Sperm, egg, blah blah blah. Biology doesn't capture the creation of new existence. The sheer, from absolutely nothing, coming to being of a new person. There's no way you can tell me miracles don't exist. No. Way.

We don't make it to church very often, mostly because the kids are not exactly good pew sitters these days. Monkey is old enough for Sunday school this year, but Lion is a ways off, and we aren't comfortable enough with the church nursery to leave him there. But since Monkey was born there's been a kind of peace in just being there. It's a chance to contemplate and be grateful. To focus on what is most important of what we have, or the most fundamental of the struggles around us. I feel better every time I'm there.

But that wasn't the question, you say. Becoming a Mom has created a new awareness of, and surrender to, forces outside my understanding. I've traditionally prided myself on analysis and reason, so that's quite a sea change. Couple that with my traditional strengths of ridiculous multi-tasking and flying by the seat of my pants, and you don't end up with a calm, consistent, confidence-inspiring Mommy. But here's the rub - at the end of the day, I'm entirely and intimately consumed by these kids' every move. That's a pretty loaded way to go through life, and it can make a girl a raw ball of nerves.

So I'm learning; no, I'm teaching myself, to chill. To have a game plan so their little misbehaviors can't push my buttons, or at least so they don't see it. To think long-term, and about the kinds of people I want them to be. To stop teaching them to listen, and start helping them make the right decisions for themselves.

That all sounds good, right? It's really hard. Particularly when I'm tired and stressed. Which is always. But that's what God is teaching me about myself. So there.

Baby Top Ten

The whole fam went to a double baby shower last weekend for two friends of mine from grad school who are pregnant and due within a few days of each other. Yippee!! It's baby #2 for one, but the firstborn for the other. She and I started talking about the ever-present baby 'stuff,' and while I like to tell people that all you really need are diapers and a place for the kid to sleep (empty drawer, people?), I'm just as guilty of over-acquiring stuff as anyone. And baby stuff was no exception.

My first tack was to try and give her all of the baby stuff Lion no longer needs. Swing, bumbo seat, play mat, pack 'n play, etc. I see this as tempting fate about whether we'll have another baby. (Me want, hubbie no, plus no money means Hubbie wins. For now.)

The way my life seems to work, the moment I get rid of all the baby stuff, I'll accidentally get pregnant and have to buy it all again.

But they have a small apartment and really do need to triage their acquisitions, so it did get me thinking about what we actually valued most across two kids. Here's my list.

1. A downstairs changing table. I had two c-sections, so minimizing trips upstairs was key. We used a pack 'n play, which was a little too low and hurt my back bending over for diaper changes. So no specific product recommendation here. We didn't use it for much else, frankly, except occasionally to protect the brand-new Lion from Monkey. They were both able to make clear their displeasure at being caged from a very early age. Prodigies, I know.

2. I called it the "mini mattress," but it's really the "Close and Secure Sleeper," by the First Years. I think it's intended to protect the baby when you have them in bed with you. Note - it would not have protected anyone from the way my husband sleeps. Would have taken a tank.

But I had read that babies will feel more secure and sleep better if you can mimic the closeness of the womb. And the kids looked so little in the vastness of the crib. So we used this to make their worlds seem a little smaller. It was also a convenient way to elevate their heads slightly - since both of mine had reflux (Lion still does). It was also great to travel with, since it was easy to recreate a familiar environment for them in a new place.

3. A play mat. I didn't think this was a big deal, so when I realized I had loaned Monkey's to a friend, I didn't bother getting it back for Lion. But I was wrong. It was huge to be able to lay him down somewhere with a degree of stimulation. It also helped with the physical therapy we had to do for his torticollis by making his tummy time more palatable. As long as there is some basic sound stimuli on the mat (something that crinkles or squeaks) for when they move, it helps them make the connection that their attempts at movement have outcomes. The arches with things dangling overhead are important once they get to reaching and grabbing, which was also really helpful with the torticollis.

4. Crib. Duh. Both kids got to use the same Stanley Young America crib. Went with white for gender neutrality, and it has a fixed rail. I wanted a drop side then (I'm only 5'2"), but all of the reviews of drop-side manufacturers were pretty poor. Four years later, drop-side cribs are all but extinct after several recalls, so I'm really glad we ended up this way. And I really didn't have that hard a time picking them up, even from the lowest position. Ours is a convertible crib, so when Monkey started climbing out of it we just took the front off and TA-DA! Toddler bed.

OK, my husband would be angry with my "just took the front off" bit. It took quite a bit of doing, not to mention required finding and buying a modified front with a partial rail. They made it impossible to convert the crib without spending an extra $250, and we were pissed. If you're trying to price compare cribs, be sure to ask and factor that in.

5. Bibs. Vinyl ones (so you can just rinse them clean) that secure with snaps (b/c my kids like to take them off). Lots and lots of them.

6. Diapers. Another Duh. We're Pampers Swaddlers/Cruisers fans, but I have several friends who love Huggies. Some just seem to better fit certain kids, and fit is what determines the likelihood of leaks. Do not do not do not get the ones with Dry Max, though, as whatever crap is in the absorbent section has given babies rashes, not to mention the occasional chemical burn.

7. The next set doesn't really merit long description, so it's more of a list of things to have around. Wipes (we like Pampers sensitive), diaper cream (we use good old-fashioned Desitin, but I know some people mind the smell. It just says 'baby' to me!), orajel swabs (the teething will start sooner than you think), and some sort of anti-fungal cream. Lotrimin or the drug store generic; whatever. The bumpy red diaper rashes are yeast, and they need the anti-fungal cream instead of desitin. A little neosporin never hurt, either.

8. Stroller/carseat. Stroller research is the very bane of my existence. I found the online discussion boards by the Baby Bargains authors to be incredibly helpful for toddler strollers and their various permutations, but for infants it's obvious to me. You get the Graco carseat, because it's consistently the highest ranked for safety. Then you get the stroller frame/base/basket that connects to it, because it's only $60 or so and the ability to move a sleeping child between the car an the stroller is priceless. I still mourn having to move Lion into a convertible car seat, because it lost me this ability.

I'm not going to make it to ten. Don't get talked into the rest. In particular, don't buy a swing/bouncy seat until your child has been in one and you know they like it. They're expensive, and neither of my kids was ever willing to stay in one for more than 30 seconds. Monkey screamed every time we came near it, from a very tender age. Like I said earlier, they're prodigies.

Happy stuff!

I have a project! It came to me while I was printing out approximately 30-kajillion emails for aforementioned FOIA. Ickickick.

Ok, it actually came to me while I was destressing by checking out YoungHouseLove and found their gorgeous DIY gallery wall hanging project. I am going to do this. We've been in our house almost seven years, and our stairway is still bare. I've always wanted to hang things there, but never had a vision for it. Now I do.

Plus, it is going to go a long way toward reducing the visual clutter in our house. (Which makes me crazy, b/c we have enough ACTUAL clutter without creating more unnecessarily.) We have tons of pictures of the kids, etc, on console tables and window ledges. This was fine for Monkey, but Lion's climbing tendencies - and total typical boy-ish-ness - make it an issue. Here. I have proof. This is at 10 months old, people. Now imagine what he does to a table with interesting shiny pictures to whack against each other. Not good.

So tonight I am going to wander around the house and make a list of what size frames I need, and then I am going to get online at IKEA and order them ALL. Mwah hahahaha.

Craptastic at work

I just got FOIAed. Anyone else who works in government knows what that means. It means I have to go through all of my emails looking for relevant messages on a particular topic in a specific time frame. And print them ALL out. And make anyone who worked with me on the project do the same thing.

This is going to kill several days that should have been spent on other things. Time I do not have to lose, b/c frankly, I work pretty damn efficiently already. Because I'm a Mom, and I want to go HOME at 6 o'clock, not stay here printing emails. Crapola.

I need to find something upbeat and POSITIVE to blog about, people! Anyone with ideas please let me know post haste. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Prescience

I had a dream last night that, as I was sitting at my office desk, I saw a missile come down and hit the middle of the street immediately in front of my office. It seemed to hit some anti-missile installation, and somehow in my dream I knew it was from Libya.

I got my phone, blackberry, and purse and headed for the stairs, to run down the 10 flights and try to figure out how to get home. I think I must have allowed my psyche to revise my response a few times, since I remember that I was wearing bad shoes for running down stairs, but I also remember teetering in heels (and getting dizzy on the stairs), as well as brilliantly changing into running shoes before heading for the stairs. I also remember a version when I grabbed a bunch of cash in my desk (I'm currently collecting for a big office party!) and brought it with me in case it could prove helpful getting home.

I was calling Hubbie as I went down the stairs, telling him I love him and the kids and I wasn't sure how I'd make it out of downtown, but that I'd head home. And to tell the kids I love them. I was processing through how long it would take to get my car out of the garage, and whether that would allow traffic to build up so much (as everyone else fled the city) that having a car would be worthless anyway. Maybe I should walk?

I think I am feeling under attack lately. Maybe?

So imagine my response when there was an actual 'suspicious vehicle' today at work - on our very corner - and the streets were blocked off as they brought in hazmat. Then no one could enter the building. Then exit. Then those of us with window offices had to stay away from the windows and shut our doors.

Not okay, given the dream of the very night before. Not that I have any track record of ESP, but it was all a bit too much for me. It's going to be a while before the tightness in my chest goes away, I think.

I wanna go home and hug my kids. And move out of DC. To flyover country, where international foes real and imaginary don't care what happens. Like I needed more reasons to not wanna be at work, really!

Funny girl

Monkey's been particularly funny lately. Just look at that smirk... she knows it. This morning she informed me she had slept with a bat and a monkey last night. Apparently the bat was swinging on her window and woke her up, so she let him in so he could get warm. He got in her bed and they snuggled. (Not sure when the monkey showed up.)

Oh, and I'm not allowed to call her Monkey anymore (at least not to her face!). She told me she wanted a new nickname.... Princess. That wasn't OK with me, so we negotiated some and ended up with Princess Monkey. Hey, it's better than Monkey Princess, right?

Yesterday at the grocery store she apparently told the checker that "this is where Mommy comes to buy all of her wine!"

Oh, good. We drink wine at our house MAYBE once a week. MAYBE. But she's apparently paying particular attention to it. Last week she wanted to help me use the corkscrew, so I showed her how to twist the handle and then push the rabbit ears down. The cork came out with a nice satisfying 'Pop!', at which point Monkey looked up at me and asked if she could smell the cork.

Hey, at least if I have a wine-obsessed preschooler she'll be a well-schooled wine-obsessed preschooler!

Last night we went out to eat, 'cause, hey, if Monkey asks for something, Daddy says yes. Wrapped around her little finger, he is. Who cares if we decided to eat out less to save money? Monkey wants sushi.

Yes, sushi. My three-year old, who will not eat meat in any form except chicken nuggets, will eat sushi. I'm not talking about the silly vegetarian kind either. She's hard core. The waitress walked up, and Monkey, clear as day, says "I need an eel-a-cado (translation: eel and avocado) roll and a rainbow roll. Cut small for me. And some maaa-meh (translation: edamame), please? (looking directly at me to make sure I noticed the magic word).

Girl knows her sushi. Last night she tried roe and thought it was fun. Please, please let my child not develop a caviar habit. The budding wine connoisseur thing is bad enough.