Thursday Thoughts

I'm way too tired to attempt a coherent post so here are my random Thursday Thoughts:

1. After complaining that we were having pizza for dinner, my older daughter (the Mote) then complained that it was cold. Instead of asking one of us to heat it up, she brought it over to the window and asked the sun to warm it for her.

2. The Mote really enjoyed "Cotton Fu Panda" this afternoon - followed by a real karate lesson at her friend's karate school. The Who enjoyed hearing her sister say "Hiya".

3. I've been working on a knitted lace shawl since BEFORE I was pregnant with The Who (she'll be 1 in August) and I have half a pattern repeat and a the top border left to do and it is done. I'm hoping to wear it this fall. I said that last summer too.

4. I finally started tackling the stack of magazines next to my bed. I'm caught up to April (2008) (yes, skimming the pictures counts as catching up).

5. I, like every other blogger that I faithfully read who is not going to Blogher, is going through some Blogher envy issues this week.

6. Who has cute 1st birthday ideas they want to share? Think 4 o'clock BBQ with a 1 year old, an 18 month old and 9 or 10 3-6 year olds and way too many adults.

Thanks and I promise, next week a real post with paragraphs and all.

To Kiss the Boo Boos

It's been an interesting week around here. It's been a week were I spent a lot of time questioning the decisions my husband and I have made and considering our options. Before we had kids (ok, before we knew how much kids cost!) we made the decision that I would stay home with them, at least until they started school.

Well, soon enough financial reality hit and we realized that I had to work if those kids wanted food, clothing and dance lessons. So, I've started and stopped and restarted various businesses over the past few years. I am currently working on 4 of those businesses - albeit some more intensly than others. And, this week, all 4 required my attention. I am working as (1) a freelance writer for several different clients,(2) a legal researcher for an attorney (I was an attorney way back in my pre-kid life), (3) an independent contractor for the state - training foster parents about special education law; and (4) an independent contractor for a local boutique selling their overstock on Ebay. I really enjoy all of these positions and am so lucky to have them. Yet, this past week all of these jobs needed my attention and deserved to have priority. I found it hard to balance those demands with my children who are, for the most part, home with me this summer.

So, during this crazy week, I decided that I wanted to go back to work so that I could give my attention to my job during work hours and to my kids the rest of the time. I thought I might even be able to spend time with my patient husband again who most often gets neglected because of my schedule.

Then this morning, my daughter bumped her head. Lightly - no big injury, thank goodness. Her aunt, her father and her grandmother, all of whom she adores, were in the room. But, she came running to find me at my desk. She looked up and said, "I'm just so glad that you are always here to kiss my boo boos."

I kissed her head, fixed her pigtails and got back to work because I like being home with my kids and I enjoy my work. There's no need to change a thing - unless any of you know a good, reasonably priced babysitter who wants a part time job :)

I Can't Help It

I had three different blog posts floating around in my head this morning. I was going to update you on my (gasp!) knitting - with pictures (please don't faint.) I was going to ask you for help on learning to trust that my 4 year old will make good decisions. She's a great kid and I need to stop treating her like she's 2 and doesn't know how to keep herself safe. Or, I was going write about how every mom in this town drives a blue or silver SUV or minivan (myself included). Why? Don't they come in other colors? Oh, you don't care?

Well, don't worry because I can't write about any of those things today.

I'm stuck on this "news" article about how people with pets are going to vote in the upcoming presidential election.

Really? Why did we even poll on this topic? Who cares? Oh, and I love my crazy dog but I'm not voting for McCain.

Saying Goodbye

I just wrote a very dark, dramatic post called "how do you know it's the last time?" The last time you'd speak to a friend, kiss an elderly relative or have sex with an ex-boyfriend?

Then I deleted it because, well, it scared me.

So, I changed the title and theme of this post and I'd like to talk about saying goodbye with dignity and grace.

My husband's beloved grandmother is dying. She's been sick for a few months and over the weekend she made the very brave decision to stop all medical treatment and to die. Yesterday, my husband had the opportunity to say goodbye to her. She told him how at peace she was with the decision, how proud she was of him and his family and how much she loved all of us. He got to tell her that he loves her.

Her comments to the twenty something grandchildren were even lighter. She simply said "Adios. See you in the next life." (Adios is light and even funny when used by your eighty something year old Jewish grandmother).

At a time when we all want to comfort her, she continues to comfort us, to love us
and to teach us. She is teaching us to accept what we can't change and to find peace in it. She is teaching us to say what we mean and to love each other. She is teaching us how to end something bravely and gracefully.

And while she never knew what a "blog" was and most certainly will never read this, she did know that we love her. Very much.

Why?

Why is it that I keep going to the doctor with healthy children and coming out with sick ones?

Over the winter, I took the Mote (4 year old)for a regularly scheduled appointment. Everyone was feeling fine. Two throat cultures later both my kids had strep throat.

Then, last month we go for the Who's (almost 10 month old!)regularly scheduled appointment. She's a happy baby and we go through the whole appointment with the doctor remarking on her good nature and (thank G-d!) good health. Then, the very last thing the doctor did was check the Who's ears. She had a double ear infection.

Yesterday, I took the Who for her ear recheck. Her ears look good but her throat is very red and she looks like she is at the beginning of "something". Then I talked to the doctor about the Mote's recent resurgence of potty accidents after a few great months. She wants her to pee in a cup again and test for a UTI. To the Mote there is no fate more horrible than peeing in a cup. The kid doesn't have a UTI. She has a "school's over and I'll make you pay for that" disease.

So, once again I went in with two healthy kids and left with two possibly sick kids. Oh, how I dread our August and September appointments.

Dinner with the Boss

Last night my husband's new boss came for dinner. He is moving here from out of state and his wife and kids are still in New Jersey. They have questions about the area and he's living in a hotel all week so we thought he could use a homecooked meal and some conversation.

Seems we forgot we have children. Next time I tell you we're having company...please tell me to entertain at lunch, not dinner. The afternoon went well. The Mote (4 year old) and I made a pie. The steak was marinating. The salad, asparagus and couscous were ready to go.

Then 5 pm happened. I was putting the asparagus in the oven to roast and feeding the baby when I splattered carrots all over myself. Ok, costume change for mommy was not part of the plan but I can roll with the punches. No problem. I go do that. I come back and realize that I had left the baby's bowl of babyfood on her highchair tray. She decided to make me a masterpiece. She painted her face, her hair, her entire high chair and was starting a splatter paint piece on the floor when I came back in.

Her older sister appeared at that very minute and slipped on the splatter paint baby food artwork. Now, she needed to be changed. I helped her clean herself up and asked her to go change her clothes while I started cleaning up the baby food mess. It was then that I smelled somthing burning...damn. Forgot the asparagus.

As I was swearing at the asparagus (because that would make it better), the Mote comes back in the kitchen. She has chosen an orange and pink wool sweater and blue shorts to wear. I pleaded, I begged, I bribed her to go change again. Into something that was a)appropriate for summer and b)appropriate to meet Daddy's boss for the first time. I lost.

I went into supermom mode and got us all relatively clean and rescued what was left of the asparagus. Things were relatively calm when our company arrived. He got a nice chuckle out of the Mote's outfit.

The Mote was convinced that he was there just to visit her so my husband and I had trouble having a conversation. She had to show him her room, have a race, play Chutes and Ladders and dominate the conversation. He was patient but clearly wanted to take about where he should live, what doctors they should use and what kinds of activities his kids might enjoy in town.

Meanwhile, the baby wanted to be held and only by her Daddy.

And, so ended a crazy night. Oh, and I am not cooking again for a long time. Burgers tonight, I think.

The Birth of a Who

Sorry things have gone dark here for a few days. It's been one of those beautiful summer weeks were a million posts have started in my head and never made it to the computer. School is out and we are starting to fall into a summer pattern around here. I'm finding the work from home part of that pattern darn near impossible but other than that life is good.

Since I can't seem to get my thoughts down on paper and because Alex Elliot has a great idea, I have decided to participate in her Happy Birthdays Carnival. The idea is that each woman gets to tell her birth story uninterrupted.

I could tell the story of my older daughter's birth but we were both pretty sick and my feverish middle of the night delivery after three hours of pushing is a blur. A delightful blur, but a blur.

My younger daughter's birth started pretty much the same. I had gestational diabetes and was ready to have a baby and a milkshake. Because of the gestational diabetes, my doctors agreed to induce me the day before my due date instead of a week after my due date like they did with my older daughter. We went to the hospital at 8 a.m. on August 30. I was on pitocin by 9. I was feeling pretty good and decided that I didn't want pain medication.

At 11 am, my doctor came in and said, how about we deliver you at 3? I laughed and said great!

The doctor broke my water around 1. I remember the pain after that really well. The nurse kept asking if I wanted to be checked and if I felt like I had to push. I kept saying "I have no idea, how bad does this get?" I sat in the rocking chair this whole time and found the rocking motion very comforting.

At 2:50 pm, the doctor checked me and said I was 10 centimeters and I could push. I did and I seriously decided that I could not do it. I told her that I was either going to stay pregnant forever or they needed to get me drugs. She said no - to both requests. Thankfully, my younger daughter has an incredibly agreeable nature and was born in just two pushes - at 3 pm just as the doctor had predicted.

30 minutes later I was off the pitocin and fluids IV and I felt great. Unlike with my first (also vaginal) delivery, I could move around easily and really felt better than I had in months.

My hospital stay was just horrible (unlike my other delivery at a different hospital which was wonderful) but I didn't care. 36 hours after her birth, I was home with my husband and both my girls and, of course, our trusty pup.

While the births of my daughters were different, I really believe they were both as they were meant to be. My older daughter despite her 9 lbs 2 oz size and difficult delivery was born safely. We didn't know if she was a boy or a girl before she was born and when the doctor said "girl" that is one of the most memorable moments of my life - even though I don't remember much else from that night.

In the end, I don't care how they got here. I'm blessed to have them and so thankful for the chance to be their mom.