Best Pics

Photos courtesy of Robert Singh.

Family Photo-journalism

When assembling a large group of independently minded people for a family photo

there will be inevitable hiccoughs

acting out, loss of interest, boredom

....aaaaand frustration.

In the end, we always manage to work it out.

I could...

I could do a post about what I'm thankful for, but honestly I'm already a day late and everyone else already did one. Family, DVR, the Interwebs... you know, the usual.

I could blog about the epic tantrum to end all tantrums that my toddler had DURING Thanksgiving dinner. That was fun. But frankly, I don't care to relive it.

Instead I will tell you this. Henry is so motivated my the other kiddos around here that he's graduating from army crawl to regular crawl and he's trying to pull up on things. Sheesh. These kids are such a bad influence!

I'm thoroughly unmotivated by these black Friday deals. Nothing was super inspiring, I mean a huge TV would be awesome, but I'm not trying to get trampled in the parking lot of Wal-Mart (my own personal hell) in order to get one. Know what I'm saying?!

While I'm an extrovert who loves my family, 15 people under one roof for 4 days make me crave lonely silence, even just for a few short hours.

Actual pictures to follow. This blog serves as my proof of life post.

Misuse of Muggle Artefacts

in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement says this is not a Ministry-approved use of the exersaucer:

Nor is this.

Or this.

That's much better.

Fakesgiving

Our first Thanksgiving was this weekend at the Husband's parents house. We gathered.

And ate.

And played with our food.

Merriment abounded. Actually, I arrived when the party was already in full swing because one of my friends was having a 30th Birthday Tea party that day two. So, for me it was double the fun.

Why "Fakesgiving" you ask. Well way back when it was "Fake Thanksgiving" As per being held usually the week before "Actual Thanksgiving". But because Bennifer and Brangeina were such a hit- I decided making up words in an effort to shorten the number of syllables used was a brilliant idea. Thus Fakesgiving was born.

The whole truth

I haven't been honest.

I've been living this way for so long I don't remember when it began. The hardest part about realizing I should get help was because it's not that bad. When I compare my mental health to people I would describe as having "real problems" things seem fine. I'm not depressed; joyless; or detached from my boys. I don't have panic attacks that leave me in the fetal position on the floor. I'm not even necessarily unhappy, for lack of a better way to describe it... I'm just really pissed off.

I'm pissed off at myself more than anything. Why? I could be a better mother than I am. Every morning I wake up and tell myself that I will not raise my voice, I will encourage not threaten, I will not loose my cool. But every day I yell, threaten and loose my cool. I avoid calling and seeing my friends often because I'm afraid of how they will judge me, because I feel like a terrible failure of a mother. Also I find that I have to bite my tongue from yelling at friends, strangers on the street, dust mites.

Who parents in anger? Me. Apparently.

A month ago I decided enough is enough. I started meeting with an LCSW (Licensed Clinical Social Worker) to talk about ... everything. We decided that my symptoms, though not nearly as serious as people with 'real' problems, were pervasive enough that medication would help. I mean, with stories about mothers who feel no attachment to their kids, harm themselves and/or their kids or who have persistent negative thoughts- my problems seemed silly.

I dragged my feet. Even me, with my enlightened view of mental health, hesitated to actually take medication (again) to solve a problem. Couldn't I just decide to change? Couldn't I just chill the heck out? Well then I read this blog and it spoke to me. I also read these blogs where women bravely share their stories. That was it, big or small I wanted help with my problems.

The first Psychiatrist I called didn't have an appointment till after Christmas. The second Psychiatrist told me that I needed to stop breastfeeding because and I quote "What is the benefit of breastfeeding?" Um, okay...

So when I got off the phone with them I called my midwives and ironically the lactation consultant answered the phone. We discussed Shrink #2's narrow world view and she made an appointment for me.

Within an hour the midwife who I was to see the following week called me from her personal cell to make sure I was okay and to tell me she was willing to write a script right now. Have I told you how awesome those midwives are? I picked up my generic 25mg of Zoloft (breastfeeding safe, thankyouverymuch) and took the first that evening. I could feel it when it hit my bloodstream, if you've ever taken Adderall or Benadryl or even Tylenol with Codeine you know how it feels when a medication first starts to metabolize. I felt a little loopy- but the tension in my shoulders almost immediately relaxed.

It's been 4 days and it's honestly incredible. It's like a veil is lifting. It's impossible to explain without using metaphor and hyperbole. Suffice it to say I feel much, much better... and this is just the beginning. The oddest 'side effect' is I was using my inhaler 3-4 times a day before I started the Zoloft and now I haven't used it in 3 days. Dare I say- I'm kinda excited?! I don't really freak out much anymore. I don't hardly see a need to yell. I feel so relived.

WTF?

Baggage

Letting your baby play with a plastic bag from a store: negligent. Letting your baby play with a reusable bag: pretty darn cute.

Haircut

Moment of silence before we begin the procedure.

I could build a second toddler with all that hair.

Jack's new 'do. About 20 minutes after I was done I asked him why he was quiet and he said "I'm sad, Mommy. I miss my hair. I need a new one."

Preview

We took some fall family photos today. Here is a preview.

Playing Hookie

The Husband played hookie took vacation time today and we went on an adventure to DC to play tourist. We rode the metro, which Jack affectionately calls 'the train', down to the Smithsonian. When we walked into the lobby we asked Jack what he wanted to see first Lions (Mammal exhibit) the Whale (Ocean Exhibit) or the Dinosaurs. Do you really wonder which he chose? Nope. No contest.

Half the time he was like a little tour guide- identifying species (often correctly) with loud exclamations like "Look, Mommy, a Triceratops!!" Or telling me that herbivores eat leaves. The rest of the time he was a sponge. "Mommy, what's this?" He needed nearly each exhibit on the entire first floor explained to him in detail.

We saw the dinos and then checked out the mammals and the ocean before asking him if he wanted to see rocks and minerals (on the second floor). He responded with a resounding "Yes!!" There are a few gigantic 'please touch' samples in the exhibit which we all enjoyed. This is Jack and Henry with the barrel-sized Beryl.

After the rocks we ate lunch down in the museum's cafeteria. For the last 5 years we've gone to DC once each fall and for the last 4 years it's been unbearably crowded, like wait for a seat holding your tray, crowded. Well, finally we got wise and went on a regular work day instead of a federal holiday. Dur!

Then we made our way over to the spaceships and airplanes, better known as the Air and Space museum. We toured the Skylab back up module, saw the planet exhibit, and checked out the "How things fly" kid's section.

Again Jack was half tour guide, half sponge. We learned about Jupiter's big red spot which I explained was a huge thunderstorm. It seemed like an age-appropriate explanation.

When we got home? Root beer floats!

Aaaaand... early to bed for me tonight.

To Uncle Tom

Love,

Us.

Daylight Savings Time

My @ss! More like "Here's a fun way for a formerly agrarian society to torture parents with overly tired children and ridiculously early wake-up times."

I feel jet-lagged like WOAH.


On an upside: both kids are sleeping (when they sleep) really well and Jack is happily paci-free 100% of the time! And I'm having a great week seeing some fabulous people who I don't get to see as often as I'd like! And I did this pose in yoga class yesterday- total head rush!

A joke

Why is 6 afraid of 7? Because 7 8 9.

Or in this case, Henry ate 1.

What can I say?

I'm a planner!

I'm turning 30 next May, I'm already thinking about what I want to do...

I've got the kids Christmas presents purchased and organized.

I already have the "what I need to pack" list running for Thanksgiving.

I've been thinking about birthday party theme ideas since August for the kids.

I've got calls into a few pre-schools for next year.

I don't even know if or when I might be moving but I already have paint samples and fabric swatches.


Seriously, I have a problem.

Diet is a four letter word

Frankly, I don't believe in diets. But I do believe in eating healthy. Diets (to me, I'm not judging) feel so restrictive that they're so easy to screw up. I've tried to eliminate all HFCS (even in 'maple' syrup, and that was tough). I eat whole grains and low sodium/no added sugar foods. Which all seem pretty normal to me because as a parent I want to feed my kids healthy, wholesome foods not Cheetos.

I didn't eat meat (except for fish, I ate fish) for the first 18 years of my life. So when my yoga instructors started talking about eliminating meat as a way to go deeper in my yoga practice and meditation I thought "Why not?!" I've been veggie before so it wasn't that hard to substitute chicken for fish or tofu or beans.

I've been feeling like I've had more energy the last 2 weeks. (Some swear that digesting meat uses more energy.) But the best difference? I lost 7 pounds. What?!

Best. 'Diet'. Ever.

So I thought I'd share with you the staples of my non-diet-diet. As it gets colder in my little slice of suburbia I like to eat things that make me feel full and satisfied and have bold and delicious flavors. Salads are for summertime. So here are some of my faves:

Eggplant Parm.

Paneer Masala

Bean Stroganoff

Try them, I bet you won't be disappointed!

Happy Birthday, My Little Crawler!

He's so happy to be seven months old.

Because, for his birthday, Daddy taught him to crawl! Now I will blame the Husband for any negative fall-out from the crawling (like fights that break out over toys, which is already happening, btw). But if I'm being completely honest- Henry is so much happier now that he can go get the toy he wants it's actually kinda nice that he's mobile.

Tomorrow I will be eating these words, I'm sure!

Happy Anniversary, Husband!! It's been four years of wedded mostly-bliss and I'm planning on forty more (at least)!

Updates!

There are quite a few things going on 'round here.
We now have photographic evidence of Henry's teeth. We had a little problem with biting during feedings but, thank goodness, he got over that. That would have been the end of things real quick if he hadn't learned not to bite me.

Last night Jack went to sleep without his paci for the very first time. He only woke up twice and it only required a gentile reminder that he didn't need it. We were shocked and pleased that it was dare I say it, easy?! I'm fully prepared for the possibility that tonight we might have more resistance but it doesn't make me any less proud of my little-big man.

This morning we decided to give him a new toy as a reward when we explained that this was his bye-bye paci toy he said "Yeah, I say 'Bye bye to my paci'" ::glowing with pride::.

Henry is now decidedly mobile. In an attempt to ruin my life teach Henry to crawl, my fool of a husband spent an hour this weekend 'coaching' him. He has managed to pick up the scooting and rocking on his hands and knees skills. This combined with an ever increasing desire to do whatever his big brother Jack is doing has lead to mobile-baby. I'm not saying I blame you, honey, I'm just saying thanks, thanks a lot.

Henry is 7 months old today, but that adorable little milestone photo will just have to come in tomorrow's post.

Camping Trip

We decided to take the kids camping at a local campground. We knew it was going to be in the mid-40's overnight so we tried to plan accordingly.
I decided to wear Henry as much as possible in an attempt to keep him warm.

Jack loved collecting firewood and playing in the tent.

Driving cars on the car.

After all that baby-wearing Henry fell asleep on me so I laid him down in the tent. He woke up pretty soon after that with a runny nose (which marks Henry's first cold).

We cooked dinner, which was some delicious chicken, potato, fennel, onion thing with flat bread. We put Jack to bed in the tent and within a minute of Matt zipping the tent closed we'd hear zzzzzzzzip and see his little blondie head pop out as he called for "Daddy?!" again and again. At about 8:15 he said "Daddy I need to go home and sleep in my bed."

Since Henry was showing no signs of sleepyness and many signs of getting sick we took Jacks request as an opportunity. Put the boys in the car with the heat and radio on. Turned the headlights towards the campsite and packed everything up. And drove home.

It makes me happy that Jack is already asking to go again. A few slight changes to how we prepared (bring small LED lantern night light for the tent, make sure the kids aren't sick...) and we're good to go!

Caween

Mommy: No, Jack it's Halloween. Letter 'H'. H-H-Halloween.

Jack: Yeah, Mommy. Caween. I'm a firefighter. Lets go outside.

Mommy: Jack? Did you say Trick-or-Treat?

Jack: Yeah. I say 'Trick-or-Treat'. Now I say 'thank you'.
I need to go to this house. I need to knock it.

Mommy: Okay, Jack.

We have raised one Halloween expert. (Not hard to do, all kids love candy.)

Jack and I worked the neighborhood while Daddy put Henry to sleep. When we got home Jack helped me hand out candy to a few more kids. Jack asked me about Henry's candy basket (I picked up some coordinating Trick-or-Treat baskets). I explained that Henry's basket didn't have candy in it because he didn't go knocking on doors with us. Jack found this to be highly disturbing so he took two pieces of candy from the bowl and put them in Henry's basket. "Henry needs two."

Sure he does.