Oh, How Times Change

3 July 2007

Dear Stella,

You’re napping. You’ve been a good napper for some time now. Only occasionally is the process interrupted by things like little vacations that mess up your sleeping. You are definitely more fun when you’ve rested.
Sometimes when I put you down for a nap or put you to bed at night I feel bad. I feel like I’m putting you away because I’m tired of you. While I am usually tired when you are put to sleep I am never tired of you.
I needed to sit down and write you a letter to tell you how I am feeling today. This is one of the last few days before your sister is born. And while I do think that you will enjoy having and being a sister, it also makes me a little sad. The older you get the more you realize that good things make you both happy and a little sad. Sad for the way things were. Your father would probably disagree with me here, but that’s how I feel.
This time last year your dad was in Ireland studying. You and I spent the month of July together at his mom’s house and also at my dad’s house. We were a little pair of traveling vagabonds. But it was just you and I. We survived together. You slept in the bed with me and we took naps and we would go swimming. You were such a little thing then. So small and you could hardly be in the pool without tipping over. It was a lot of work to swim with you then. But we would go to the pool and have some fun, go home and eat some dinner and then you’d get ready for bed.
There wasn’t anything magical about it, but it was the only time that it will be just you and me. And that’s ok.
Anyway, the reason I started writing this was because I wanted to remember this time with you. I know that you won’t remember it in any way other than being told about it. But this time we’ve had has been good. You are my first child. You made me a mother and you’ve been a good sport along the way.
You’ve been fun to get to know. Your little personality opens up more and more and that makes me excited to see what kind of little person you will be.
However, as the time has approached for your sister’s arrival I’ve been having these sad feelings. Feelings that you and your sister will not understand unless or until you ever have your own two children. I say that because I don’t want either one of you to feel superior or inferior to the other. These sad feelings I’m having are not because I do not want your sister, they are just because life will be different.
I had similar feeling before you were born. I was sad to think of the life that your father and I had being permanently changed. And it is changed—for the better. Just as all of our lives will be changed for the better when Gianna is here and a part of things. But I used to think about “our life” as being made up of just each other—your dad and I—and I couldn’t conceive of what you’d bring to it. And you’ve brought so much.
All this is to say that today I am feeling this sad anticipation and slight anxiety about the changes that are headed our way. I am sad that “our time” is ending—you and I—and that there will be a new person in it. I am happy at the same time, though, that you will have someone who will be a part of you the way no one else can be. I don’t say that with the expectation that you and Gianna will be the best of friends. That is up to the two of you. I do hope you like each other and are able to enjoy one another, time will tell.
I know that my life has been enriched by having siblings. Of course there are times in childhood where you feel that your sibling detracts from your life in a very annoying way, but I think ultimately it is good to have someone to share your childhood with. I hope that will be the way that you enjoy your sister.
So, my Stella, my sweet little girl, “our time” is coming to a close but it is opening up to an entire new dimension of “our time.” I hope that you enjoy it immensely and I hope that I survive the next few weeks with some amount of emotional stability because right now it pains me to think of you as becoming second or feeling slighted. I think that I’m thankful that you’re young enough to not remember being the only one—but at the same time it saddens me to think that you won’t remember this time. This precious time when you were the only one that I had to worry about—when it was just you and I taking things day by day.
I hear you rousing in the next room. I will go fetch you from your slumber and even though I have two weeks until I’m due, I can’t help but wonder if each time I get your from your bed will be the last time that you’re the only one.
I love you.


Love,
Mom

A Crown For Geeg

A year ago she was on her way to us and now we prepare to celebrate that first year with her. She's a jolly lass and we love her and we always wonder about her first thing in the morning (Stella does!)

Around here we've started a birthday tradition of a one year old quilt, a birthday crown and a birthday sign. We also have breakfast with some treats and presents the day of the actual birthday.

It's been lots of fun (and hard work) getting to know our little Gianna. She's a light-hearted addition to our progeny. She likes early mornings with her dad, trying to steal your cup of water, eating pasta, raisins, grapes, listening to music and shaking her body to it, she loves her sister, her dogs and rolling in the sand at the beach.

To Sea, To Sea

We came and went. We're home now. We're much wiser. We enjoyed the beach--but not too much. We enjoyed walking--but not too much. We enjoyed going out to eat--but not too much.

I emphasize the "not too much" of it all as I think there is a tendency to squeeze too much into a vacation. As a Phoenician, I found myself thinking that I should take advantage of the nice weather and walk. Of course this is enjoyable. It's not enjoyable when it cuts into one's reading time which is equally enjoyable. I had to keep that spendthrift inside of me quiet but reminding myself that my time (and our money) would not be wasted if we spent an entire afternoon indoors reading and playing.

And so we did. And so I read The Hunchback of Notre Dame. And it was good: thrilling and unexpected and full of reasons not to give one's self entirely over to what we desire. I'm still trying to figure out who decided it would make a good Disney film. I'm assuming they kept mostly the characters and did away with the heavy plot and themes.

We also took full advantage of our digital cable and DVR thingamabob. We watched what we wanted when we wanted. And we skipped commercials! This is one technological advancement I can get behind.

I spent an inordinate amount of time mourning the loss of Tim Russert. He was, by all accounts, an incredibly brilliant, loyal, normal man who did his job well and with much passion. That's an advancement I can get behind as well.

Upon our return home we have all settled into the summer routine here. That means we're figuring out how to escape the heat.

Stella's becoming cognizant of her behaviors and their impact. This is very difficult and enjoyable at the same time as it means I experience the following conversations with her:

"Stella, why are you getting a swat?"
"I pushed."

and the flip side:

"Stella, thank you for sharing with Gianna."
"I kind."

And Gianna? She's almost one! And she's getting curly hair. And she loves to follow her sister around--crawling and doing her emergent Frankenstein walk.

I'm Cool

DSC03009
Originally uploaded by alishialinn

I was having a conversation with my sister last night in which we joked that I should post pictures from my family vacation so that everyone would think I was so cool.

We Depart!

I leave you with this video which your reaction to which will be largely dependent upon your relation to the child.



Edited to add: I cannot understand what she is saying either. That's the charm.

"If There Was a LOST Convention, I'd Go"

These words were spoken by my sister upon completion of the third season, so far my only LOST convert.

The only problem with her allusion is the thought, "Does that mean that one the LOST cast will be the next spokesmen for Priceline.com?"

There are two camps surrounding this show: Those who watch, and those who don't. (Cliche, I know.) Those who don't watch I will affectionately refer to as "The Others." Jamie and I started watching this show via Netflix. We soon became enthralled. I think this might be hard for many to imagine: Jamie enthralled with a contemporary, pop culture phenomenon. Don't be fooled, folks. The guy watched every episode of Lost. He once watched twelve hours when I was gone. He has theories and ideas.

Anyway, Lost is a great show because it's all about telling stories. It's not about "reality." For the most part I hate reality television. If that's all television was I wouldn't be tempted to watch.

I'm going to pretend this is a five paragraph essay from high school as I am boring myself. In conclusion, you, too, should watch Lost. And for kicks watch Alias. Another entertaining JJ Abrams series.

And now I will conclude this essay like some of my high school students used to conclude their essays: LOL. i think this topic sux.

When We Were Honeymooners

Four and a half years ago Jamie and I got married. We went to California for the last part of our Christmas break honeymoon. We brought some traveling games along for fun: Mancala and Tangoes. We, unlike many married couples, can only handle the pressure of one another's undivided attention for a short while. So we bought these games to facilitate the large amount of time we had to spend together. (Consider this honeymooning true confessions: we bought games. What did you do?)

Next week we will be leaving for San Diego for two weeks!! We are taking our children so this will be a vacation of the family kind. Thankfully, we won't have to figure out what to do with ourselves. They'll help determine that.

For good measure I am bringing those games. I am going to do my best to get him to play some games with me. I don't think we've really played since our honeymoon. Because he hates to lose.

The Advent of "Why?"

"I wanna wear this, Mom," Stella says holding up a little pink sun dress. It's been unseasonably cool here in Phoenix. It rained in the middle of the day on Friday. It poured down. This is glorious, mind you, but nonetheless unexpected. For this reason I tell Stella she can wear the dress but she needs to wear a shirt underneath.

"Why?"

"Because it's a little chilly outside lately."

"Why, Mom?"

"Because there are clouds in the sky."

"Why?"

"Because a cold front has moved East off the Pacific."

"Why?"

"Because," and here I must pause. Because? Have you ever had an existential conversation about the weather? Do I offer her Jeff Goldblum's chaotic theory from the helicopter ride in Jurassic Park?

"Because a butterfly flapped it's wings in Japan..." Of course I don't say that. Mostly because she has moved on.

"Can you put your hanger back?"

"Why, Mom?"

"Because hangers don't belong on the floor."

"Why?"

"Because they can't hang there."

I think you know the rest.

Thank You, Jesus, For...

Part of our nighttime routine is to say some prayers and talk to Jesus. We thank Him for the day and people that we love. I think it's fun to see who Stella remembers first. Tonight the first name out of her mouth before I even finished the Our Father was my brother Nate. I thought that was especially sweet as she hadn't seen him in a week.

"OK, thank you for Nate. Who else?"
"Papa."
"OK, thank you for Papa."
"Gigi. Mommy. Daddy."

Really, who wouldn't want to hear that? Then she really gets to the heart of the matter.

"Target. McDonald's. The shops."

How Do I Stand It?

The growing up, I mean. How do I not burst into a thousand tears? Stella's in her bunk bed and Gianna's in the crib. I'm in my bedroom in the middle of the day. With a light on. And flagrantly TYPING ON MY KEYBOARD. AS LOUD AS POSSIBLE. Because there is no baby asleep in a little bed in here with me.

How do I stand it? Seriously. And there's going to be more of this. These transitions and milestones. These aches and sadness and the welling up of tears.

I caught Stella playing in her room instead of napping. She saw me and said, "Oh, Goo' morning, Mom."

"It's not morning, Stell, you never slept. Time for bed."

"Want to sleep with me, Mom?"

Totally caught off guard, I oblige her and say, "OK, scoot over."

We're laying there and she's not settling down. And as much as I want to sleep beside her little, sweet frame I know she won't sleep. I have to pull myself away. Because as much as I am having a hard time with all this growing up, I know myself enough to know that I'll have an even harder time with the small child that she still very much is trying to keep her shit together without a nap.

I let myself out of her room with warnings of some swats if she gets up to play. I peek in a few minutes later and she is asleep.

And in the next room in Stella's crib is the other baby. The ten month old baby. I went through this with Stella, too. And it helps to know that I will survive. I had the hardest time when Stella moved from our room to her own room when she was Gianna's age. I was so sad and felt so alone and far away from her. Of course Jamie was with me but, eh, not the same thing.

All this growing up makes it hard for me to indulge my favorite pastime: purging excess material goods from our home. I have the hardest time throwing the girls' stuff away, or passing it on, or even packing it up. I think this is because it's a physical admission that they are beyond a certain point. It sounds so silly to say it out loud. But there's this part of me that craves the beginning again. The uncertainty of parenthood. The unknown of what I was getting myself into. All the growing up I had to do.

Gianna's Atypical Evening

• Ate bird poop
  
• Was slightly run over by her sister via the Cozy Coupe
  
• Fell on a cup in the bath and got a minor chest abrasion
  

These are the days it's hard to be little.

And these are the days it's hard to be the little's mom.

Made My Day

I don't know what else to say. Obviously she's not potty trained, but she had to go and when I stuck her on the toilet--she went! That is one less poop I need to excavate from the nether regions! And this is so much more exciting to me than it should be.

More Stella-isms

Upon discovering something is amiss/out-of-order/unexpected:
"Dear me! Wha happen? Wha happen, Mutter?"

***

When being put down for her nap, usually after much protesting and some tears, as soon as her head hits her pillow:
"Goo' night. Goo' night, Mutter."

***

After I hang up the phone up:
"Whas that, Mom? Whas that? That Jesus? That Jesus, Mom?"

***

While getting her poopy diaper changed:
"Gross. Gross, Mom. My deepah'"

Photographic Evidence: The Silence is Not Golden When Two Toddlers Are Concerned

April 2008
Originally uploaded by alishialinn

If you have been or are the parent of a small child you certainly know that silence is a treasured state. Of course, it is not easily won. And it is rarely a good thing when small children are awake or in pairs. It is with such knowledge that my friend Tara and I went in search of our wee ones when we had been enjoying a rather focused and lengthy--albeit three to five minute--conversation the other day.

This is what we found. Not bad, mind you. No damage done, just belongings hastily strewn about the room. We stuck them in the bed afterward. They couldn't quite figure out how to climb into it on their own so we helped tackle that temptation.

I am suddenly reminded of an afternoon a few months ago. Stella was playing alone in the living room while I was in the kitchen having some lunch. Since much of her solo play involves lots of noise--little people chattering, sound effects and the like--complete silence is rare. So after a few silent minutes passed I went to check on her only to find her slumped against the couch. She had fallen asleep in the middle of her activities and surrendered to her exhaustion.

That was a good kind of quiet.

The Best Day At My House in 2008*

I have just enjoyed ninety minutes of middle-of-the-day solitude WHILE MY CHILDREN SIMULTANEOUSLY SLUMBER! This is a first.

Other things that make it the best day: went to Mass and Stella was good, Gianna cooed and blurbed her way through, a clean house, my freshly cleaned and folded laundry, a soda for no reason, picked some weeds, watered some plants and noticed new plants sprouting from the ground, found Stella some cute flip flops, Stella calls me "Mudder," sister comes in two weeks, friend coming next week, two months from now we will be in San Diego and my dad and his wife are buying us tickets to Sea World!

And other great things pending.

All this on the heels of some not-so-great times makes it even sweeter. Sweeter than my sister's Diet Dr. Pepper.

*To be said in Kyle Dwyer's voice, for those that know him.

April 2008: What We Like

Gianna, 9 months: her paci, standing up, probing orifices (orifi?) with he sharp-nailed index finger (beware of your gums when she approaches your mouth!), peas, her sister*, drinking from a cup thank-you-very-much, being awake at naptime, saying "Yayayayayayaya!" and gurgling

Stella, 2 years, 4 months: her sister ("John-Ah")*, her DAD!!!! thank-you-very-much, licking rocks, picking weeds, watching Peter Rabbit and Curious George, talking, Autumn Wheat, tacos, saying "NO!", her friends, "Abah, EEek, Mamy, Mace, Cahtah," her cousin "Camren," baby treats

Jamie, 28 years, 2 months: reading, his punching bag, talking to other men who like to talk about philosophy, tea in a green mug, preparing for law school ("Babe, I'm in it to win it!"), 30 Rock, Lost, sauerkraut, roasted chicken, New York Times over the Wall Street Journal, his Geeg, his Stell, belching in videos*

Alishia, 33 years, 3 months: sewing, looking at craft books on amazon, reading A Tale of Two Cities, sitting in Jamie's office looking out the window at her plants, drying clothes on the clothesline, virtual shopping at Barney's, whiskey sours, Scrabulous, chatting off the record, morning coff, showing off my large feet*

****

Yesterday Equals Frustrating, Today Equals Better

Staying home with children is a series of minor failures and victories. Sometimes they balance out in the course of a day. Sometimes they most definitely do not. Yesterday morning was a crucible of wills (is there such a thing?) that set the tone for the rest of the day--it was only seven and I was exhausted.

Stella awoke in a crabby, desperate mood. It perpetuated my mood. I was mean and impatient as I tried to ride her wave of early morning "decisions" in a period of ten minutes: get dressed, wear a dress, eat Aunumn Wheat, no Aunumn Wheat, shoes, no shoes, yogurt, "Stop IT," go outside ,ad nauseum.

I hard-boiled some eggs for an entire hour. At least. And I did a host of other annoying lame and poorly executed tasks that I am thankful I cannot recall. We were on pins and needles waiting for 10:00 to roll around so we could go invade our friends' house with our pleasant demeanors and morning breath.

This morning has already been an improvement. We had a good breakfast without travail. I cleaned up the kitchen with the use of a timer: only fifteen minutes at a time so my children don't fall into a morning of parental neglect. We all got dressed without drama and we went on a bike ride. Now Gianna is sleeping and it didn't take a magic voodoo dance to get her to bed and Stella is playing peacefully with her toys so I can record the minutiae of my days.

At least Jamie is ever-patient and always forgiving. I might have been fun and easy-going before we were married, but I'm not always a peach these days. And he doesn't always remind me of this fact.

My Poop: Exclamation Point

This is the time of year where Stella likes to run around in the backyard after dinner. Tonight she did so without a diaper on.

We were inside with our friend Michael. Every now and then we caught a glimpse of Stella running around. Suddenly she yelled something incomprehensible. We didn't think much of it. Out friend's dog, Doodle, was running around back there, too. We figured she was shouting at him or just playing around.

I peeked out the window to ensure myself that she was indeed safe. I caught a glimpse of our dogs chomping on something. Some food? A toy? A lizard or bird? They frequently catch critters. Who knows what it was.

We carry on with our visit.

Stella continues to yell--lamenting almost--something that is now making sense.

Jamie says, "Is she yelling, 'My poop!'? Stella, did you poop?"

"Yes!" she replies, somewhat alarmed.

In a flash it all computes.

I now know what the dogs were chomping on earlier--Stella's poop.

Yes indeed.

"Stella, did the dogs eat your poop?"

"Yes! Yes! My poop! My poop! Oh. Oh no. My poop!"

Michael acts quickly, "Doodle, get in here."

Stella continues to talk about the social affront committed against her and her feces. It's not disgusting to her, it's more like when a playmate steals a favorite toy. She feels wronged. She runs around repeating it as if she wants her poop back.

Michael comforts her, "I would be upset, too, if that happened in my immediate company."

Totally Pleased With Herself

Totally Pleased With Herself
Originally uploaded by alishialinn

The girls love to play with their empty diaper boxes. Stella makes cars, towers, baby beds, hiding places for her people, general merriment is had by all. This morning while Gianna was playing with hers and I stepped into the adjacent bathroom to brush my teeth, etc, she pulled herself up to stand.

I was so overcome with excitement for her that I started to loudly praise her. This pleased her enough to try again so I could capture it on film. Isn't that face just the SWEETEST thing?

Yes, sweeter than the faces of all your children.

My Dad's Flickr

He's all growed up: his own flickr account.

In addition to which he sent me an email that ended with these words, "THERE, PUT THAT IN YOUR BLOG."

Oh, Dad, I will. Thank you.