A Fresh Start

We spent the long weekend cleaning up the remnants of Halloween/Thanksgiving and preparing for the upcoming holiday season.  We took down the scarecrows and cornstalks, raked the leaves and finally stored the giant light-up jack o' lanterns.  We brought at least a dozen big boxes up from the basement and unpacked the tree, the ornaments and countless other holiday decorations that we've collected over the years.  We spent these past three days cleaning up and getting a fresh start for the holiday season.

Will was the consummate apprentice, following Daddy around and demanding to 'help'.  Liam's needs were easily met and he let his Mom and Dad get lots of work done.  We had a fun and productive weekend and happily spent lots of time as a family.  One wouldn't have thought this was possible if they had been in our house on Wednesday night.

Wednesday night.  I would like to say that Bill and I had an argument.  But this was not an argument, this was a fight-- the kind a couple may have once, maybe twice a year.  We were both extremely tired and irritable and ended up bickering over something so foolish.  We were shouting and making unfair generalizations.  We were hurling jibes at each other and pushing one another's buttons.  I thought I was right and he thought he was right.   Things got really ugly on Wednesday night.

It took about a day for the dust to settle.  Bill was up early the next morning and making pancakes.  That's because, unlike me, he knew he was wrong is so good at letting negative things go.  It took a little while longer for me to come around, but I did.  We made up and Wednesday night is history.  A few months from now, we probably won't even remember what we were arguing about.  The important thing is that we recovered and we were able to salvage an awesome weekend.

Getting through each day, dividing up endless tasks and responsibilities, it's easy to forget how lucky I am. When exhaustion sets in, it's becomes hard to communicate and it becomes easy to focus on the negatives. In reality, Bill is a wonderful father and husband.  He is kind and caring.  He works hard to provide great things and opportunities for his family.  He is patient and supportive and steady.  He is honest and funny and generous.  

Although I was too senseless and stubborn to say it on Thursday, I want to say how thankful I am to have such a wonderful man in my life.  

Here's to cleaning things up and getting a fresh start.

Twenty Things on Thanksgiving

Throughout the last week, Will and I have been reading books about Thanksgiving and thankfulness. Each night, I asked him to name some things that he was thankful for. I jotted these things down on a sheet of paper that I kept folded in the book.

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Here are twenty things that Will is thankful for this Thanksgiving:

1.  Scooby-Doo

2. Transformers

3.  Trains 

4.  Mommy & Daddy

5.  Liam

6.  Halloween

7.  Outside

8.  Scarecrows

9.  Paper

10.  Animals that swim

11.  Christmas

12.  Cars

13.  Boys

14.  Teachers

15.  St. Patrick's Day

16.  Whistles

17.  Watermelon

18.  Ice Cream

19.  Birthday Cake

20.  Presents

The following pictures were taken at Kevin and Areti's house.  My brother and sister-in-law gave us an outstanding Thanksgiving dinner-- complete with a perfectly cooked turkey, real cranberries and 'smashed' potatoes. Will had a great time catching up with his cousin Armando, who is always so patient and sweet.  Liam, as always, was a wonderful baby-- happy and content.  It's hard to believe that next year, he'll be running around and eating turkey just like his big brother.

Sweet Sixteen

Liam is sixteen weeks old today!

Here are sixteen particulars regarding our favorite four-month old.

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. 1.Liam is a great sleeper.  We're talking 10 hours of uninterrupted sleep each night.  Too awesome for words.

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2.Liam hates tummy time.  Within seconds, there's crying.  Since this is important for upper body strength, the torture continues.

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Liam reaches for and grasps small toys.  His movements seem much more steady and deliberate.

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4.Liam wears size: 6 months.  And he's growing out of these as we speak.

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5.Liam has big feet.  'Feetie' pajamas are way too tight and confining.  You know what they say about guys with big feet...

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6.Liam loves bath time.  warm water + baby bath tub = happy baby

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7.Liam spurns the pacifier.  He looks at me as if I'm trying to shove a giant pool noodle into his mouth.

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8.Liam loves mirrors.  He is completely fascinated with both his and others reflections.  "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the cutest baby of all?"

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9.Liam shouts.  The soft cooing & gurgling of last month has developed into yelling and hollering. When I go to check what the fuss is about, he's goofily grinning at me.

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10.Liam chews...on his fingers... all the time.  We think that he's in the beginning stages of teething... or that he's really, really hungry.

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11.Liam loves Will.  It's apparent that Liam both recognizes and adores Will.  Will can almost always bring a smile to Liam's face.

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12.Liam likes fast food.  Gone are the lesiurely 45-minute lunches.  We increased the bottle's nipple size and although it took some geting used to, Liam drinks about 6 oz in 15 minutes.

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13.Liam might be lefty.  When reaching or grabbing, Liam favors his left hand.  Maybe he takes after mommy?

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14.Liam loves a good car ride.  No matter how fussy or hungry he may be, a good (non-stop) car ride usually calms him right down.  He's normally fast asleep in minutes.

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15.Liam needs a good laugh.  Although Liam smiles with ease-- for anyone and everyone, he has only laughed a handful of times-- usually when he hears someone else laughing.

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16.Liam is low maintenance.  For the most part, Liam is laid-back and easy-going.  He is patient and very good about sitting and amusing himself when mom or dad is tied up. That is, unless he's hungry.  Look out.  All bets are off when he's hungry.

Shiver Me Timbers!

"Shiver Me Timbers": akin to "Blow me down!", an expression of shock or disbelief, believed to come from the sound the ship made when 'shocked' by running aground or hit by a cannon blast

On Sunday, after a tutoring appointment, Will and I went to Belmar.  Bill agreed to stay home and watch football Liam while he checked his fantasy football status graded papers for school.  I thought that it might be unbearably cold and windy, but it turned out to be beautiful.

When we arrived on the boardwalk, Will thought it would be fun to race each other.  When that got old, he decided to "race" random joggers who were out for a run.  He would momentarily run ahead of them, yelling, "You've got a flat tire!" and "I beat you!"  This tired him out pretty quickly.

We then decided to head down to the beach.  We collected shells, dug holes in the sand and played "chicken" with the ocean as it approached our feet.

Afterwards, we were headed to the play equipment.  Will pretended that the play structure was his house and he gave me the complete tour... "This is my room and this is the kitchen and this is the bathroom...".  As Will directed, we had a pretend snack, went pretend potty and took a pretend nap.  Will was climbing on and off the equipment as I sat on the steps and watched.  

"Mom, I found clues to a treasure.  Come on!"

He was standing beneath the grey rock-climbing thing that's pictured above.  He was ready to "play pirates".  As I joined him underneath, he was pointing to the wall.

"The... map... will... tell... you... where... the... treasure... is..."

He was pointing at the words which were scribbled on the wall and he was pretending to read them.  In actuality, the words read "So-and-so loves so-and-so" or "So-and-so was here" or "For a good time call so-and-so".  I was busy reading the graffiti when something caught my eye.  Off to the side and drawn in thick, black permanent marker was a big...

"Treasure map!  Mom, I found the treasure map!"

...penis.  My son thought that this lovely artwork was a detailed island map and he traced his fingers along the perimeter.

"Will, umm, come over here."

"Why, mommy?"

"Oh look, I found the X in the sand..."

After finding the "treasure", we rewarded ourselves with some DD (Dunkin Donuts).  Coffee for mom and a hot chocolate (half milk) and a "Christmas" (red and green iced) donut for Will.  Once returning home, Will went upstairs to take a nice, long caulk.  

"Take A Caulk": To take a nap.  On the deck of a ship, between planks, was a thick caulk of black tar and rope to keep water from between decks.  This term came about either because sailors who slept on deck ended up with black lines across their backs or simply because sailors laying down on deck were horizontal as the caulk of the deck itself.

Liam LOVES This Toy

Good Days, Bad Days & Mommy Meltdowns

Thursday was not a good day for Mommy and Will.

Will woke up in an unusually cranky and disagreeable mood.

It seemed like he was intentionally breaking every rule in the book.

Mommy, due to her idiotic preference for reading blogs and wandering Facebook, had gone to bed very late the previous evening.  She was exhausted and short-tempered. Her misbehaving toddler wasn't just getting on her nerves, he was trampling all over them.

After multiple warnings and countless "timeouts", after a myriad of bribes and incentives, after many failed attempts at applying a limited knowledge of child psychology, something snapped.  Logic, reasoning and restraint went out the window, temporarily replaced by what I can only describe as madness.  

Will yelled at mommy.  Mommy yelled back.

Will hit mommy.  Mommy hit back.

Who was the parent?  Who was the mature, rational and sensible adult?  For sure, it wasn't me.

I know that I am a good parent.  I give my kids plenty of love and affection.  I spend time with them, teach them, support them and encourage them.  I am normally patient and understanding.  I try to be a role model, demonstrating the characteristics that I want them to possess.

But admittedly, there are times when frustration and impatience get the better of me.  Times when that red-faced, crazy mom rears her ugly head.  And trust me, it's ugly.  And afterwards, the guilt is overwhelming.

On this particular day, Will took a 2-hour nap.  He woke up and called for me.  (We still use a baby gate at his door.)  I went upstairs and scooped him up in my arms, giving him big hugs and kisses.  Whenever we have a bad day, I always try to discuss it later, when we're both more calm and rational.

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"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Will."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Mommy."

"I'm sorry I spanked you, Will."

"I'm sorry that I hit."

"Let's try to never do that again, okay?"

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Will..."

"I'm sorry I called you a 'bad mom'."  (Oh yes he did.)

"That's okay."

".... and I'm sorry that I said that I not love you."  (Ouch.)

"That's okay, I know you love me and I love you."

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Will..."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Being a mom is definitely the most challenging thing I have ever done. The good days are wonderful and the bad days?  Boy do they suck.  I think the trick is turning bad into good, before chaos ensues.  We're working on that.  

Four Random Facts Regarding Will

Four random facts regarding my favorite 3-year-old...

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1)  Will has become a fruit snack fanatic.  When we go shopping, he is generally allowed to select two snacks.  He invariably chooses fruit snacks.  In our pantry, we currently have six different varieties-- which all taste exactly the same.  Although I do feel guilty about feeding his carb addiction, I like the fact that they're a completely mess-free, self-serve snack.  They're also fat-free, only 80 calories and they claim to be "an excellent source of vitamin C".  These days, in Cara-speak, they're 2 WW points-- how sad that I actually checked, how sad that I've actually eaten them.  

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2)  When potty training, many people advised me to set up books near the potty chair.  That way, Will would be encouraged to sit for longer periods of time.  During the six months of training (yes, six), Will had absolutely no interest in reading while defecating (pooping, whatever).  No interest whatsoever.  But apparently, now that we've graduated to the toilet, reading material is essential-- as is a closed door, a foot stool, the proper lighting, and all clothing being removed from the waist down.  The current favorite is the Toys R Us Holiday Toy Book.  After ordering me out of the bathroom, through the closed door, I hear him yelling, "Mommy, I want this ...and this... and this... I'm done... I want this... and this... Mommy... Mommy..."  I open the door.  "No wait, close the door, I'm not done..."

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3)  I finally broke down and bought the Bumbo seat.  I contemplated buying one when Will was a baby, but I really dreaded the idea of spending $30 on a piece of foam.  This time around, I wanted Liam to be able to sit in the play area with Will and I without being in the bouncer where he is reclined at a 45 degree angle.  I figured that the seat would give Liam a different perspective and it would encourage Will to interact with him a little more.  (Currently, Will has very little interest in his very little brother.)  Unfortunately, Liam has no love for the Bumbo.  In fact, he pretty much hates it.  From the moment I place him in the seat, he stiffens his body and starts to cry.  I'll try again in a couple of weeks, but in the meantime it's getting plenty of use.  Will has staked it out as his own and he sits in it and plays with it every day.  Yesterday, it was the "wheel" for his go cart and today it was a "spaceship rocket" for his Transformers.  

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4)  Speaking of Transformers...

"Transformers... ching... More than meets tha eye."-- That song is stuck in my head all the time.

And don't even get me started on the nose-picking-- that finger is stuck in that nose... all the time.

Happy Birthday, Anthony!

Will's cousin, Anthony, turned 3 this week.  

The event was celebrated with a party at Chuck E. Cheese.  

Unfortunately, I had three tutoring appointments and couldn't make it to the party.  Bill accompanied Will while Liam visited with his grandparents.  

I encouraged Bill to write this post (since he was the one who was there), but he declined.  Well, he didn't actually say no... I think he just laughed at me.  Who am I kidding?  The man won't even play Scrabble with me.  

Here are some pics that Bill took at the party:

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Dream On

I've always been a dreamer in an odd sort of way.  I have the tendency to envision future experiences in a completely fantastic way.

Here's one example:  Last year, I was pregnant, working full-time and taking care of Will in the evenings.  The house was usually a mess and I was always exhausted.  In the afternoons, while stuck in traffic, I would imagine my future life as a stay-at-home mom.  I would be happy, healthy and well rested.  Without the daily work and stress involved with balancing toddler and teaching, I would be eating and sleeping better.  So what if our income was cut in half?  I would just tutor and we would stick to a budget.  The house would be immaculate and I would have time to cook incredible meals.  I would never loose my patience with Will or get in absurd arguments with Bill, because life would be so much more calm and reasonable.  I'd have time to touch up the paint on the trim and choose a window treatment for the mud room.  I'd have lots of playdates for Will and make lots of "mommy" friends.  I could get back to reading and playing piano, maybe even take up knitting.  

Don't get me wrong.  I love being home this year.  The reality is good.  Just not THAT good.

Liam has been sleeping better for the past week or so and I had promised myself that when I started getting more sleep I would begin to exercise. When Will was a baby, I never thought about exercise in a conventional sort of way. I would just pop him in the stroller and walk, walk, walk-- morning, noon and night-- miles and miles and miles. Seriously. All that walking, combined with watching what I ate, allowed me to lose about 30 pounds in about 5 months. Not exactly an overnight transformation, but well worth the effort. I loved, loved, loved the way I looked and felt-- which is a pretty huge deal. Unfortunately, due to a fun-lovin', stroller-hatin' 3-year-old, we can't do the walking regimen this time around.  Instead, I've decided to start running again.  If I can squeeze 30 minutes or so out of every day while Bill watches the kids, I think the results will be there.

So, before I continue, here's a quick review of my history with running.  In high school, I was one of the kids who opted to "walk" the track rather than actually run or play a sport.  (I also ate brownies between classes and ate french fries for lunch-- but those are sad facts for another post.)  In college, I started getting more interested in being fit and healthy.  I amazed myself by running a whole mile, then two, then three.  Then I met Bill and we watched movies and ate Pilsbury every night.  (Sigh)  Then we got engaged and I was on a mission to lose weight for the wedding...  Back to running and working my way up to being faster and running further.  After the wedding, I continued to work out, but with a little less intensity... okay, a lot less intensity.  Then I got pregnant.  So with the exception of running after Will, I basically haven't run anywhere since 2004... okay maybe 2003.

This brings me to my latest fantasy:  the running fantasy.  I always picture myself running.  It's a beautiful sunny day and the scenery is perfect.  I'm wearing a great outfit... trendy, comfortable and flattering.  My iPod is loaded with the best 'running' music.  I'm graceful, with long strides and perfect posture.  My 'running partner' is at my side... we're the best of friends who always have time to meet up for a run.  I have the time and patience to stretch properly and monitor my heart rate.  I'm sweating, but not in a gross way... in that healthy glowy sort of way.  So that's my idealistic self-portrait as a runner... complete with fake photo at left.

In reality, I went running for the first time today.  By the time I could escape from the house, it was dark out.  I had a 1-hour window to drive to the reservoir, run and drive back.  The reservoir was well-lighted, but with the exception of the maintenance crew, it was deserted.  I stepped out of the car and it was colder than I had expected.  I headed up to the path, checked my watch and started to run.  As I started running, I noticed two things... 1) My sweatpants were too big...'falling down' too big... and 2) I forgot to put on a sports bra.  (That so sucked.)  I made it through the first mile, but only in a jog... the kind of jog that you see elderly people do... you know, where your feet barely leave the ground... kind of like a shuffle hop... bottom line, not pretty.  Before long, I'm bored.  No Ipod... haven't used it in ages and it wasn't charged.  Then, I'm winded and I slow to a walk.  It's windy and my hands and lips are cold.  Another woman approaches me, running.  I nod and smile, but she's too caught up in her run to notice.  I start running again.  I can feel my ass oscillating... depressing, but good motivation to keep running.  Nothing hurts, but the breathing is difficult.  I manage to get through 2.5 miles before heading home to relieve Bill for hockey practice.

Next time I'll bring the iPod, wear the sports bra and switch the sweatpants.  Next time I'll run a little farther, a little faster and a little prettier.  Maybe I'll even find that running partner.  I never actually think that the fantasy will be the reality, but it's fun to dream, I suppose.

Friday Night

I'm posting this picture at 9:30 on a Friday night.  

I am about to go upstairs and collapse into bed from complete exhaustion.  

I think, at this point, my three-year-old has a more active social life than I do.  

And I know, for certain, he has a hell of a lot more energy than I do.

What's up with that?