Who would have thought this would be so hard?

I mean, we've made much harder decisions. We chose a preschool with very little time, with endless self imposed pressure to make sure it was the perfect place to leave what is most precious to us. We've made decisions about what they eat, how to discipline them (which clearly isn't working, but that's another post), and each day shape their lives with the endless decisions we are making for them. But this...this had me at a bit of a loss.

After all, how do I know I am getting The Right Clown? What qualifications should I look for? I assume it's not like hiring a contractor who needs to be licensed and bonded. Will they play the right games? What if Hayden is afraid of clowns? These are the thoughts that plague me through the night. After all, how can I be sure that the water coming out of the funny boutonniere is non-toxic? I called a couple agencies, but for some reason nothing felt comfortable to me. They assured me that "whatever clown" they sent would be great, but shouldn't I know exactly who is coming to my home? Shouldn't I already know what person will be interacting with my 3-year old son and his friends, whose parents are trusting that I will not expose their children to some degenerate?

Today I found The One. She looks great. Her website shows pictures of her with the kids, lists her experience, references and even her resume. She is also a preschool teacher with Child Development units. I quickly emailed her and she quickly responded, even mentioning that she is a "pretty clown" not a scary clown. Ding! We have a winner! She called me just a short while later, sounding very personable and friendly. One thing we talked about was price and I mentioned that her price is perfectly competitive with the other companies I contacted. She said she used to work for agencies like that and that the person doing the performance gets a small fraction of that amount. She also said that they may describe one person and send another, that they even asked her to use another name on occasion! Now, some of this is self-promotion, but I do like the idea of having personally spoken to and arranged things with the person who is coming to our home. She spoke about being able to keep the kids' attention for an hour, and that she knows how to speak with them, making even the shy ones comfortable.

Hmmm...maybe I should go to clown school.

Peas in a (i)Pod

As a Completely Non-technical person, I am enamored with my iPod. It now goes everywhere with me- car, gym, and even on a long walk yesterday. It has become my trusty companion, creating a soundtrack to many parts of my day. When the kids are restless in the car, I can put on that magical Kindermusik, which has the amazing ability to calm them when I can't. Really, I don't know what subliminal messages are being broadcast over those selections of Wishy Washy and Ring Around the Roses, but they settle into their carseats with a happy, dazed expression without fail.

At the gym, I hit on quite the random selection of music. Being Completely Non-technical, I find setting up Playlists to be a challenge, not quite worth my time. Instead, I have the iPod randomly play through the music library Fillip was kind enough to load for me. Last week I had a really great workout and found myself reflecting on the odd assortment of music that got me through it. We warmed up to Natalie Merchant, pumped a few machines to Papa Roach, hit the treadmill for some cardio to Rossini's overture to Semiramide, then cooled down to Don McLean's Bye Bye Miss American Pie. Not exactly what most people would consider a cohesive group of songs, but frankly, it was the best hour of music I had listened to in a long time.

Yesterday my new pal (by that I mean my iPod) joined me for a long walk around my neighborhood. As we bopped along, I was in my own little world. Diana Ross and the Supremes' Love Child, Oingo Boingo's Out of Control, a bit of Fillip's classic rock thrown in here and there. It was great. I was outside, enjoying the fresh air, and the feeling of really moving along. Then I walked by someone else with earphones in. I smiled and nodded as we passed, but he didn't give me even a glimmer of acknowledgement. Suddenly, I found that despite being on a public street with hundreds of cars going by, I was completely and utterly isolated. My great music brought me a wonderful momentum, but I felt completely removed from everything around me. While at the gym, this is a good thing as I don't like particularly like the feeling of being a hamster on a wheel, but being out on a beautiful day, it seems like I should feel a bit of connection with my community, or at least get a friendly nod from the strangers I am walking past. As I entered the alley behind my house I turned off the music to let the world back in. There were birds chirping, dogs barking, and a refreshing sense of experiencing my day once again.

Although I love my little blue iPod, I need to be mindful not to shut the world out completely, just now and then.

Quote of the Day

Picture two rambunctious boys in the bath, the little one with water dripping off his face, a little bit of a stunned look, and me sitting next to the tub with one side of me soaked from the torrent of bathwater that just came my way.

"Hayden, no cannon balls in the tub!!"

This rates right up there with other brilliant parenting moments like
"No more lima beans until you eat your chicken!"

Logan- 17 months

At 17 months, Logan is quite a character. He is such a funny, busy, sweet little guy. Those blue eyes will melt you in a heartbeat, but can also be very piercing as he deems necessary. He gives the sweetest kisses with those full lips, always accompanied by a crisp "mmmmMwuh!" He is trying to do things for himself, helping us dress and undress him. He tried to put on his shoes and socks, which he provides ample opportunity for given that he still takes off his right shoe and sock ALL THE TIME. Not the left one. The right one.

He is constantly on the go, moving, pointing, jabbering away. He likes to direct us and point out whatever has caught his interest. He likes to play with trucks and planes making driving noises as he pushes them along. He always notices planes or helicopters in the sky, no matter how high they may be. He seems to hear them first and lets us know to look up as he excitedly points and shouts. Because he sees buses and trains all day at school, he is fascinated by those as well. Last week he kept telling us something on the way home. We were trying to guess, but obviously not getting it until Hayden lost patience with our lack of understanding and said "He is saying choo choo!" Sure enough. All we heard was "shoo choo" which we were guessing meant "shoe." No, that would be "shooosh!" Big difference. We have also heard "obah dayah" (over there), "ahwandat" (I want that), and a few other words and phrases. He calls Hayden "buvvah" or "Daydah" which Hayden loves. Hayden will tell anyone who listens "I'm Daydah!" Data? "No, Daydah! I'm Logan's Daydah." They always get their vitamins since they know to ask. Logan runs over and points up to the shelf yelling to let me know it is time. Twice a day he gets his nebulizer treatments and most of the time will sit sweetly in our lap.

Whatever Hayden has, Logan wants. He is none too gentle about getting it either. As they play we constantly need to referee as someone is always screaming and yelling, pushing, hitting, grabbing, etc.. But when they do play nicely, they are so very sweet. Logan is definitely learning about routines and establishing them himself. I call the kids' feet Stinky Stinky feet. At bathtime, Logan insists on getting his feet washed first, proffering a tiny, wet little foot barely sticking up out of the water and bubbles. As I wash Hayden's Stinky Stinky Feet that tiny foot will be offered again and again with a little grin. For the last two nights he has sat through the entire reading of Goodnight Moon, then had to read it himself. He turns each page, waves and says "night night!" It is so sweet to sit there reading with the two of them. At bedtime Logan needs to turn on his radio, his humidifier and turn off the light. When he gets up, he needs to do the opposite. Lord help us if we skip a step!

He is such a sweetie, offering lots of kisses with an easy giggle. His eyes are always alight with mischief, and he will take any opportunity to be chased around. If he can reach me, he will reach under my shirt to tickle me saying "Beh baw!" (belly button!) He started this on his own one day as I reached over his carset to Hayden. They giggle hysterically over that every time. So do I. Logan absolutely loves music. Hayden has been talking about the Move It Move It song from Madagascar for awhile now. They play it at school. When I went to pick Logan up recently, that song came on. Ten toddlers stopped in their tracks and started bouncing their heads, then moving those little bodies to the beat. It was like Muppet Babies got mixed with A Night at the Roxbury. Too funny.

With all that silly charm oozing off of him, he does have quite a temper. He wants what he wants when he wants it! It's not uncommon for him to throw himself down on the floor in a temper, and for us to simply walk away. Obviously, we don't see eye to eye on this, and sometimes he has to just give us his blood curdling shriek until we are ready to do whatever he is waiting for. He shrieks when he is mad, sad, and happy. This is a phase we will not miss!

At nearly one and a half, he is on the cusp of full blown toddler independence, yet still so very baby. As much fun as it is to see him do new things, I am desperately holding onto the last vestiges of his babyhood. I kiss those soft cheeks and neck any chance I get. It will pass all too soon.

Cough on a Stick

This morning I had my usual weekend wakeup to the sound of Hayden thumping the porcelain seat of the toilet up. As usual, I stumbled down the hall to make sure he didn't need any "rear maintenance" and found a wimpering hot boy on the floor. He was able to rasp out that is throat hurt and seemed genuinely upset by the fact that he couldn't talk. I gave him some Tylenol, cold water and honey, then tucked him back into bed saying we would go see the doctor later. I told Fillip I suspected Hayden had strep throat. Sure enough. The culture came back positive immediately. (They do a strep test right there in the office, and the ped compared it to a home pregnancy test.) Hayden was so very pitiful all day long. He just laid around not wanting anything but an occasional drink. This is a very spirited child, so as sweet as it is to have him snuggle up to me at the docs office, it just wasn't the usual Hayden. I know he will feel better tomorrow once the antibiotics have a chance to work, which is why I am a little glad that it is strep, rather than some virus that just needs to run its course. This is a concrete and easily treatable diagnosis.

Tomorrow, I hope and expect he will be significantly back to his usual self. I look forward to seeing more smiles and spirit from him. Today there were very few smiles and the only giggle was prompted by Logan. Logan had a little bit of a runny nose and as they were sitting together, Logan managed to blow a big ol' snot bubble out one nostril. Well, even a toddler suffering from a nasty case of strep throat can't help but laugh hysterically at that!

What I really feel bad about is that I really enjoyed caring for him today. He was so sweet and cuddly, and easy going about everything. He was content to lie on my bed and look at books while I folded laundry, went down for a 2+ hour nap when I asked him to, and didn't once fight back when Logan assaulted him in various ways. Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't want him to be sick, don't want him to suffer in any way and truly feel bad for him since I know how awful it is to have strep throat. But, since he was sick, it was so nice to get to mother him and care for him all day long, rather than coral, cajole and often discipline. It felt like I got to spend so much more time truly showing him how very much I love him, to let him know that I was doing everything I could to keep him comfortable. All day I would reassure him that I understood his misery, that it would be better soon. I enjoyed that. I feel like I am a little warped for that enjoyment, but it was actually a strangely satisfying day.

I Like My Car, but Not Enough to Make it a Fun Afternoon

Four hours. That is how long it took me to get home today. Four hours. Four hours on the road and I wasn't even close to Vegas!

A crane fell over on the freeway, which they had to close down for most of the afternoon. Not just any freeway- the 405 Freeway at the 101. At the "busiest interchange in the world" as one news reporter was kind enough to say in his report. Imagine, how many people drive through that interchange and now had no way to get to where they were going! This caused traffic all over the west side. When I left work I had no idea this was going on. When I noticed traffic getting heavy as I headed north and heard helicopters, I just figured there was an accident ahead and turned to take an alternate route. What I didn't realize was that there were no alternate routes. You simply could not get north from the west side. So, I thought if I could head far enough east, I could then go north and come around the other side of the Valley. No dice. Hardly a unique idea. Two hours into my drive (and only 3 miles from my office) I realized I had to use a restroom. Half an hour later (and only a few blocks) I stopped at a grocery store and felt much better. I kept thinking that maybe I would be better off to call and see if any of my coworkers wanted to go get a drink and wait it out. After all, in a couple hours it would likely be much better. However, if I stayed in the city for dinner, there was no way I would see my munchkins before bed. That was just not acceptable. So, I stuck it out.


People kept calling me to check my progress, offer sympathy and keep me company. The thing was, I wasn't upset. Frustrated and disappointed to lose time with my family, absolutely. But not upset. I just couldn't help thinking that as much as people were saying that I was unfortunate, that I was having a bad day, I really wasn't. Tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of people were sitting there just like me. The crane operator who fell with the crane, now there is a person who had a bad day! I was fine. By the time I arrived at my inlaws for dinner I was very tired, and very glad to be out of the car, but also so happy that we really are fine.

Today's tally

Activity Points earned
+500 pts -Getting my sorry ass out of bed at 5:00am (well, 5:20am)

+200pts -Having bag packed last night with work clothes and towel for gym

+5000 pts -Working out at the gym before work despite thoughts running through my head reminding me how much I dislike exercising

-500,000 -Ordering a breakfast burrito on my way in to work with eggs, bacon, hash browns, cheese and sour cream, and eating the entire thing

-5000,000 -Complete lack of self discipline in lunch and ordering the same fast food Chinese as my boss....and eating the entire thing

Not exactly the score I was aiming for.

Just call me Sally

My kids are tiny little guys, but what they lack in physical size, they more than make up for in personality and attitude. Once they team up on us, all hope of order and control is lost.

Hayden has been rolling his eyes at me like an embarrassed teenager for over a year now. He knows how to play on my emotions and can switch from charming to exasperating in a heartbeat. In general, he has a good heart, and a truly sweet disposition. One game he likes to play with me is at bedtime. I'll get him tucked in all cozy-warm and he'll say in the sweetest voice, "Mommy, come lay down with me. Come snuggle." Well, I certainly can't resist that invitation from my normally active and squirmy boy. I eagerly lay down on his bed, snuggle up to him and lay my face right next to his. Just as I settle in for a few minutes of gazing into my son's beautiful eyes he'll invariably say "Mommy, go out. Go lay down on your own bed." I swear, I'm like Charlie Brown and the football- every time.

Logan is not exempt from all the attitude. He is such a tease. He likes to give kisses, and you can hear them coming. He'll start across the room all puckered up going "mmmmmmm..." as he approaches to give you a big wet smacker. He'll get right up to you and then turn that little face away with a giggle at the last second. Denied! Over the weekend he picked up a new word, most likely from his big brother. Not just simple word, but a word filled with all the attitude someone only knee high can muster. He puts his hands on his hips, bends forward at the waist, stares us down with those big blue eyes and says emphatically "Nnnnnnno, Mama!" The first time I was so surprised I asked him "Did you just tell me no?" He got this look that seemed to wonder if I thought it was adorably cute, or if he was in big trouble. The truth is, I honestly didn't know.

Hayden at 34 months old

Hayden is growing up so quickly!! Although he is a munchkin in size, he is a force to be reckoned with. I hear him saying such big kid things and see that there is little left of the baby in him. It's like the last three years have been on fast forward.

Hayden is so verbal. He makes brings different ideas into conversation and remembers the most minute details of things that we forgot had even been mentioned. When he talks to other people and gives them details about our cars or various topics, they will look askance at us to see if what he is saying is true. It generally is very true and accurate. He makes connections between things that we love to hear. He was playing with a toy that asked how old he is and he said two and a half. Fillip said "You are almost three!" Hayden told the toy "Yes, I am almost three. I will be three in March." He is quite the parrot, and we have to really watch our language these days. We have improved greatly, but not everyone around us has. The other day, out of the blue, we hear from the back seat of the car "Fucking is a bad word. We aren't supposed to say fucking." Yes, Hayden you are right about that.

He seems to need to establish boundaries and rules, often quoting the rules back at someone. "Grandpa, don't chew ice. It's bad for your teeth." "Logan, you can't play with this. You are too little and could choke on the pieces." These days he is obsessed with being the Line Leader. I'm not sure how the Line Leader is chosen at school, but it is clearly a great status symbol when you are nearly three years old. He tells us he is the Line Leader if he gets to the sink first to brush his teeth, if we are the first people at a traffic light, when it is just he and Logan playing around the house, etc… Of course, Logan will follow whatever Hayden is doing and is happy to let his brother lead the way. A new thing Hayden says is "I already did!" As in washing his hands, drinking his milk, picking up his toys. Whatever it is we are asking him to do, he says he already did, even when it is blatantly obvious that he didn't. He hasn't quite caught on that if the sink is dry, we know he didn't wash his hands.

He is pretty good about sharing with Logan, although doesn't hesitate to grab something out of his brother's hand or push him over. The second I leave the room one of them is crying as the other takes something, hits, pushes, or otherwise offends. The other day I told them to work it out themselves since I felt it was a ploy to grab my attention back, again and again. Surprisingly, once they realized I wasn't rushing to the scene of the crime to mediate, they got along much better. No gratification in crying when nobody is listening, I guess. Whenever Hayden has a treat he offers some to Logan. When Logan wants a turn with something, Hayden quickly finishes his turn to hand it over. Of course, he expects the item back quickly, or any item someone is playing with. The second Logan has something Hayden is complaining "Logan isn't giving me a turn!" We are working on the concept that just because Logan has something, doesn't mean it immediately needs to be handed over, and vice versa. Overall though, they are quite a team.

After Logan came home from the hospital, we saw a backlash from Hayden. He was being extremely stubborn, argumentative and difficult. Clearly, he was feeling pushed aside in the whole situation and after a few days of encouragement, reminders that the "normal Hayden is a really good boy," and more than a few timeouts, he is back on track.

Hayden has always been a good eater, but these days I wouldn't say he is great about it. He isn't picky at all, just distracted. He is too busy talking and looking around to focus on finishing his meal. He can have the same bite in his mouth for 5 minutes while he does other things. He wants to sit in a regular chair like a big boy, but twists and turns, gets up and down, and overall drives us nuts without his booster seat. Sometimes the stepstool is a better solution, but sometimes we just put him in the booster. He doesn't protest much when I say he seems uncomfortable in the regular chair and this would be better. He loves to get a treat and asks for gum all the time. He rarely gets it since that invites a couple more issues like Logan protesting that he didn't get any ('cuz he doesn't have teeth!), gum getting put in various places it doesn't belong, and getting him to spit it out when it is time to eat, go to bed, etc.. At school he doesn't take his naps, which is usually the only negative feedback we get from his teachers. However, he really needs a nap and sleeps for a couple hours each day he isn't in school. We aren't sure why getting him to nap is no problem at home or Grandma's house, but doesn't happen at school.

Bedtime is my favorite part of the evening- not because I don't want to spend time with him, but because we have a pretty good routine and things go smoothly. He loves to snuggle up with me to read a story, which is so sweet. He often "reads" to me as he knows some of his books by heart, or at least the basic gist of the story and can tell me the story in his own words. He recognizes all the letters by sight and knows one or more words that start with each letter. He knows the days of the week, is starting to grasp months, can count to 20 and has learned all the basic rules and routines of his classroom.

Always an active child, he loves to ride his bikes and trucks, speeding around the patio or the playground at school. His imagination is kicking in and he will sit on the couch by himself or with Logan and pretend they are on a train, or in a truck, or in the kitchen whipping up dinner. Even Logan gets into it, stirring a spoon in a bowl and "pouring" things in. Hayden will put on his two backpacks (yes, both at once), grab a bag and a water bottle and tell me he is leaving. He keeps expressing his independence by saying he will drive the car, walk to school, make his own dinner, do his own laundry, etc… We don't let him play with the car keys for fear he really will try! He has been fully potty trained, day and night, for awhile now and almost always dresses himself. He is good about cleaning up when we ask him to, and especially good about cleaning up when it means stalling on going to bed.

This boy gets more handsome each and every day, and is truly a sweet soul. He is so friendly and outgoing that I see people respond to him wherever we are. He loves to giggle and wrestle with us, but is quick to give hugs and kisses as well. I'm amazed at how quickly he has turned into a little boy from my little baby, but so proud of the person he is becoming.

Like that's a real original start to the New Year

While on vacation I joined a gym. Now, normally, I am not a gym person. I recognize that I simply don't like exercise for the sake of exercise, and without any direction at all, I am completely intimidated by all the machines. Overriding all that however, is the fact that I don't like the way I look or feel. My body has been worked over by pregnancy, and needs a makeover to finally get back to where I was a few years ago. I checked out the local YMCA and another chain gym. The YMCA looked fine and the price was good, but the personal trainer who showed me around was so bitter and cynical that I had no desire to do anything except go get a cheeseburger and milkshake for the sheer futility of it all. My friend suggested checking out her gym. The price was actually better, it is a much nicer facility, and everyone was very upbeat and encouraging. So, I bit the bullet and signed up, earning a year of obligating myself to get my flabby butt there several times a week and a free t-shirt.

So far, so good. I went to work out the first evening, and was fairly proud of how I did. After 15 minutes of hell on the elliptical machine I braved the floor of workout machines. While suffering on the elliptical I was watching people very closely. Although I was probably creeping them out, I was only trying to see how the machines work so I wouldn't look like a complete idiot when I went over there. A couple of them looked fairly straight forward, so I gave it a shot. Fortunately(?), I am so out of shape that it only took a few reps on a couple arm machines to wear out those muscles, making it impossible to attempt figuring out another exercise out anyway. I also had the brilliant idea to make my way to the free weight room. After all, I know how to focus on specific muscles, so why use some fancy contraption to do that? Good old fashioned free weights are fine, right? I walked in and picked up the dusty 5 pound weights, feeling even more stupid doing reps with those, among people lifting hundreds of pounds. After about 10 minutes, I retreated to the treadmills. Walking. Just my speed. Familiar, easy to use. Up and down arrows to control the pace, and a nifty little fan to cool me off. In all, I sweated it out for about 45 minutes, and went home feeling as proud as if I had run a marathon.

Last week I went to a yoga class. Years ago I worked for a firm that had a private instructor in our private gym once a week. It was wonderful. The last time I did yoga was in her class when I was about 6 months pregnant with Hayden. Over 3 years later, it was quite a challenge! I did like the instructor we had last night and felt my body intuitively adjusting my poses as my previous instructor had taught me. This was definitely more my style. Although my yoga session involved much arm shaking, sweating, and some mental pep talks, I felt much more in my element. I like to exercise with direction, with an instructor setting the pace, and feeling confident and competent in what I am doing. I will continue learning those new fangled resistance machines, but feel more motivated knowing I can "treat" myself to the yoga classes as well.

Yesterday I hit the gym while my MIL watched the boys. Again, I was the Treadmill Stalker, learning how each machine worked by observing the other people there. I carefully chose who to watch knowing most of those people are already in much better shape than me. For some reason, about half the people there yesterday were senior citizens. I figure if a lady who looks to be about 80 years old can do a certain machine, so can I. I think I overestimated myself. Today my legs are killing me as if I spent the day rounding up cattle, but that is a good thing. Each time I go I feel a bit more confident, which motivates me more. I can totally do this.

Logan at 16 months

Logan is such a fun little guy. He is really growing into himself and we see more personality every day. I love this stage where they are still on the cusp of leaving babyhood behind, testing out and realizing their independence, but have no issue relying on us for comfort.

Logan has been walking since his birthday and now runs easily after Hayden. He is trying to learn to jump, a funny process as he bounces enthusiastically with his feet never leaving the ground. He loves to ride little push cars, zipping around the house, navigating turns, and pressing all the buttons on the toys. He also likes to get up on Hayden's tricycles, with his toes barely skimming the ground, feeling like he is speeding himself along, when really we just set him off on the higher part of the patio so he can roll downhill. He is quite the stuntrider, often wanting to ride standing on the seat, bending over to hold the handlebars. No fear. He likes to play with cars, trucks and trains, rolling them along the floor making "driving noises." Another favorite pastime is putting things in and out of containers, again and again. He loves to empty one of our cabinets and match up all the lids. It makes a big mess, but I love watching him. Fortunately, he seems to like helping clean up as well. The telephone is a passion for him, and when it rings and he doesn't get to talk on it (which is 99% of the time) he goes into a screaming rage. That's not his best characteristic. He loves to color and will spend a good stretch of time with crayons and paper. At school he enjoys art projects, and I enjoy seeing him with a big bottle of glue in his hand. Sometimes when I pick him up it looks like he was the class project with paint, marker, glue and glitter all over him! He loves music too and will clap along with the radio, and dance to any music that comes on. He has this funny stilted movement he does lifting and stomping one foot as he moves along the room to the music.

He is at an age where he is starting to mimic everyone. One day I was sitting on a pillow on the floor to sort through some clothes. He went over to the couch, pulled down another pillow, sat down just like me, then realized something was missing. He put another pillow down, then went to get Fillip so he could sit down too. Whatever Hayden is doing, he wants to do. If Hayden is brushing his teeth leaning against the bathtub, Logan needs to do the same. If Hayden is making silly noises at dinner, Logan needs to do the same. Hayden goes pee pee in the potty before bathtime, and Logan now asks to sit on the potty before bathtime as well. It was so cute to see him sitting up there with his little legs sticking out, smiling so proudly.

Logan likes a lot of attention, especially when our attention is directed somewhere else. He will pull us by the arm or climb up into our laps and start giving us kisses, knowing he can grab our attention that way. "Mmmmmmm-mwuh!" He also likes to quietly sit in my lap, his back snuggled against my tummy while he explores a toy. He is a very affectionate boy, but selectively. At school he leaves everyday blowing kisses to his teachers and when I linger too long by his crib at bedtime, he excuses me once and for all by sweetly blowing me a kiss then laying down with his face turned away. Time to sleep.One day while we were in the hospital, I was trying to get him to nap. I had him snuggled cozy-warm in his blankie, patting his chest and talking to him quietly to soothe him. He looked at me, put a finger over his lips and quietly said "Mama, shhhh."

This boy is such a chatterbox. He has a few consistent words such as Dada, Mama, brother, diaper, bubble, (these last 3 sound very similar, but we can tell the difference) and recently cat and Voodoo, our cat's name. His favorite phrase seems to be "All done!" which he tells us again and again when he is done eating and wanting to get down, when he doesn't want his medicine, when we finish changing his diaper, when he wants out of the bath.... Each day he wakes immediately asking for his brother, delighted when he gets to go in his room to get him. Not so delightful is his recent habit of going in and waking Hayden from a nap. He often seems to be directing a very large event, babbling instructions at several people and pointing animatedly in every direction. He is so busy all the time. He still has his funny little giggle that seems to come from his belly and will do it again and again to keep us laughing with him. He knows to point to his belly button and his nose, and recently points to our big cat and tells him to shush with a finger over his mouth. He loves to play peek a boo, and often comes over, and lifts the bottom of my shirt to tickle me, especially if I lean over him to get Hayden out of the carseat.

Logan has quite the temper to go with all his charm and we have started doing timeouts or sending him to his room to calm down. He needs to learn not to be aggressive, and play nicely. A process we have been through before. Despite his volatile nature, he is such a sweet baby. His smile is contagious and those blue eyes sparkle with humor and mischief most of the time. I want to hold fast to his fleeting babyhood, but it will be gone before I know it. For now I am just grateful to have him home, well and happy.

I'm a Grand Aunt!

My nephew's baby boy was born this afternoon. Mom and baby are doing great, and my nephew is feeling happy, but I think it is a bit surreal at this point. My bro and I agree I can officially be called Auntie. It is so weird to see everyone get bumped up a generation- My nephew is now a father. My niece is an aunt. My brother is a grandfather, and my mother is a great grandmother!

Home sweet home

After 5 days and nights in the hospital, Logan is now home! Below is the recap of what happened. A couple highlights and low lights:

Aside from the lack of sleep, the worst part was when he got suctioned. A catheter would be put in each nostril to remove the gunk that was keeping him from breathing. Three of us would need to hold him down to do this while that terrified baby would scream "All done! All done! All done!" I don't know that I will ever forget that.

Silly boy quickly learned how things worked at the hospital. The machines all beep frequently when levels drop and he would try to reach the button to make it stop. Yesterday when they took his blood pressure, as soon as it beeped that it was done, he kicked off the cuff.

Last week at home Logan started wanting to sit on the potty before his bath. Hayden always goes pee pee before bathtime, so little brother wants to mimic his routine. Yesterday Logan started asking to go potty at the hospital. As soon as he would pee in his diaper he would start saying "diaper! diaper!" and grabbing his crotch, then run to the bathroom and want to get on the potty. This is not an easy task with a wiggly boy, no training seat, and a whole lot of tubes to keep clean.

Tonight when I came back with Hayden Logan was unbelievably excited to see him. He kept shouting and pointing and giggling. I hope they are always so happy to see each other.

Now, I'm going to go enjoy sleeping in my own bed, with BOTH my boys nearby.

Here is an email I sent a few days ago:
As most of you know, Logan was hospitalized Thursday afternoon with a virus called RSV. When I took him to the doctor Thursday afternoon his breathing was visibly labored with retractions (sucking in below the ribs and throat in an attempt to get enough air), his heart rate was 170-180, he was dehydrated, a fever of 102, blood oxygen level of 90%, and was so sick he was completely limp. The pediatrician gave him an immediate shot of steroids and a breathing treatment and told me we were going to be admitted to the hospital. Although most kids his age and older don't get nearly this sick with RSV, he was much more vulnerable due to his asthma. He got hit fast and hard. (Anyone under 1 year is hightly at risk when they get this and it is more serious than we would want to consider for infants and newborns.)

Although the last few days have been terrifying, frustrating, exhausting and most of all, sad for Logan, he is making progress. Upon admittance, he was put on oxygen, intraveneous steroids and fluids, and round the clock nebulizer treatments. The poor little guy can't move without being tangled up on all his wires and has had to endure some rather traumatic procedures. The first night, even with the oxygen canule and some very aggressive treatments, he was unable to keep his blood oxygen level above 80-85%. Last night it stayed in the mid 90's, which is so much better. Today the iv meds were discontinued, and the amount of oxygen he is being given will be reduced, as tolerable. Once he can keep his blood oxygen level in the mid-high 90's without the oxygen supplement, he can come home. It is possible that this will be tomorrow, but we won't know until we see how he does. He is still audibly wheezing and has a bone shaking cough. The cough is actually a good thing as it will get all that congestion up out of his lungs.

We have had very little sleep, and more worry than we know what to do with. Logan has truly tolerated this better than we could have hoped, and he and Hayden spend much of their days asking for each other. Even once Logan comes home, we are going to be a bit isolated as this virus is highly contagious, so we will need to see which of us comes down with it and make sure we aren't spreading it around. The incubation is 4-5 days. We do welcome visitors at the hospital and at home, but understand that most people are around kids and would hesitate to be exposed to the nasty little bug.

Please understand my lack of communication as I have been busy literally every minute with Logan, can only call out to my immediate area from the room, and am not allowed to use a cell phone there. There is no internet access, so I am feeling very isolated, but do appreciate the calls I've gotten. Feel free to pass this info along to anyone who didn't get it. I know I missed people on my list. I came home today to spend a couple hours with Hayden while Fillip is at the hospital with Logan. I will update once Logan has been released.

Thank you to everyone for all your support.
Love, Marlo

Holiday recap

After a whirlwind holiday season, I feel like I was supposed to keep you all apprised of every party and gift. There just wasn't time for that. I'm so over the holidays.

Chanukah was a complete blur. The kids came to love having Chanukah music on in the car and singing the Dreidle song. Although the holiday is only 8 nights, we had something to do every night for two weeks straight. We were either celebrating at somebody's house, or entertaining at home. Usually, our kids rise to any occasion and bring out the best behavior for others. We saw this breakdown as they got more and more tired, and in need of their normal routine. However, they did enjoy the holiday. We lit the candles every night, and it is so sweet to see those beautiful faces lit by candlelight, either saying the blessing with us, or watching quietly, sensing that this is something special. They did get to open presents every night, although rarely from us. Since they are easily overwhelmed, we bought very little knowing they would be showered by those around us. We were right. Unlike many of the kids we know, there wasn't one night that Hayden asked for gifts. He never gained any expectation that he should get something, and was often not terribly interested until he saw what was inside. He did think we should be making more cupcakes. I couldn't agree more.

On Christmas Eve we went out to see the lights. After driving through Candy Cane Lane, neighborhood known for it's elaborate displays, Hayden declared he didn't want to see any more lights. He now objects every evening to all the Christmas lights that are still on. Bah humbug.

Some highlights:

• Latke cook off at my family party. Who would have thought my Catholic aunt's taco latkes would be such a hit? They were my favorite, along with the cranberry latkes. Among about 8 varieties of latkes, I didn't taste one I didn't like. Mom's husband one with a traditional recipe, but I'm not convinced they didn't stack the deck. Yeah Mom- I mean you! ;)
  
  
• Dinner for two at Fillip's family party. We arrived to find a little table set with a sign saying we won for dinner on our own. Fillip's Aunt and Uncle would be taking care of the kids through dinner so we could eat our meal hot. They actually had all the kids in their charge during dinner so the rest of us could relax. This worked out well for us only, as most of the other kids flipped out! Hayden was just as happy to be at the kids's table and was really great. Logan got Aunt Sally's number and took full advantage being fed, held and sung to through the entire meal. Smart kid.
  
  
• Hearing Hayden say he "won the castle lottery." Hayden has loved castles since our vacation in May where we visited Hearst Castle. He builds castles with legos and talks about going on "may-cation" in his castle, which is what he came to call the motorhome. He absolutely loves his big toy castle, complete with a king, knights with removeable armor and a working canon. He has been so excited and this comment was made to Fillip one morning completely unprompted.
  
  
• Being on vacation for 11 days straight!

New Year's Eve was nice. We had a few people over and it was a relatively quiet evening. I find it hard to get terribly excited about New Year's Eve for it's own sake. January 1 never feels any different than December 31st, and it always feels like forced gaiety to me. However, I do like having people over, so decided to host a few friends again. We put out way too many appetizers, and didn't even make dinner since everyone was full. By 11:30pm it was just us and another couple, which happen to be a couple of my favorite people to hang out with. Logan crashed by 9pm, but Hayden stayed up until midnight with us. He was absolutely adorable coming in to the living room with a champagne flute full of sparkling cider that Fillip gave him for the midnight toast. He was such a good boy, and I was so happy to bring in the New Year with him. Logan got scooped out of his crib and was so sleepy and confused by the hoopla. It was really funny, but nice that the four of us were together. Logan seemed relieved to go back to bed. New Year's Day was low key with all of us catching up on some sleep and hanging out in our sweat pants.

Now we are back to the daily grind. I really feel like it's going to be a good year. Despite all the ups and downs, when I look at our life, it's really quite great.

Happy New Year everyone. I wish you all a year of health and happiness.

Don't F... with my boys!

Respect is an important part of our household, and we often get compliments on the kids' good manners. Any aggression by either boy is grounds for Time Out and Big Trouble. However, we aren't exactly the most wholesome parents at the preschool. Yesterday, when the Director mentioned on the phone that her computer was tied up because she was taking her Sexual Harrassment training, my response was "Does that mean I'm not supposed to grab your ass when I come in?" Fortunately, she does get our humor, and seems to have similar parenting attitudes to ours. Meaning- She thinks it's funny when kids do all those things we are supposed to tell them not to do. She has no problem being stern and keeping the kids in line, but definitely sees the humor in kids being kids. We do believe in being strict with the boys and not letting them "get away" with bad behavior. We also think they are freakin' hilarious, and do our best not to let them see us laughing. Yesterday was one of those days.

When we went to pick up the boys, the Director said she needed to talk to us about something that happened that day. I was thinking Logan fell down or got bit again, or Hayden didn't take a nap or wasn't listening well. Nope. Logan got in a fight! Not only did he get in a fight, our 15 month old son picked the fight and took on two of his classmates. Apparently, he toddled by another kid and slapped him in the head, completely unprovoked. When the other kid responded in kind, Logan threw down, swinging with both arms, giving a screeching a battle cry that would have unnerved Rebel troops. When the teacher stepped in to break it up, he turned on her, pinching and grabbing her hair. Now, we've seen this side of our sweet baby boy at home, but the school had never seen the likes of this. They had only seen our blue eyed cherub and didn't believe us when we mentioned it in the past. So, as the Director describes this scenario, we are trying not to laugh. Fortunately, she finally looked at us and said "Now, I know I'm supposed to talk to you very seriously, but that is just plain funny!" His rather sensitive teacher didn't seem to feel the same and had to go home to shower and relax before coming back to pick up her two year old.

We left her office to go get our boys and the teacher that was watching Hayden at the time stopped us. Uh oh. What now? She said she needed to talk to us about his language. Here's where we flash back to our newly talking two year old shouting out "F-ing moron drivers!" and wondering what he came out with now. He had been shouting at one of his friends so his teacher asked why he was shouting instead of using an inside voice. His response was that he was "pissed off" at his friend. Since this wasn't nearly as bad as we had anticipated at the beginning of the conversation, we had a hard time keeping a straight face and had to really put on a good act when Hayden came over to sternly tell him that those aren't nice words!

Sometimes, it is either laugh or cry. We choose the first one.

Maybe this I'm just bitter that Santa ignored me all these years

Entering this holiday season, I did not consider that the time had come to address our religious practices with Hayden. I feel completely unprepared for this, yet the issue is loud and clear, and had to be addressed immediately. In general, I don't feel that I am militant about my Jewish identity, and find it immensely interesting to learn about other faiths and customs. As a child, we only celebrated Jewish holidays at home, but I was allowed to enjoy other festitivities as well. I would always go decorate my friends' Christmas trees, understanding that Christmas was their holiday and Chanukah was mine. Friends were welcome to join us as well as we would light the candles for eight nights. There are always plenty of latkes and jelly donuts to go around. I never felt like I was missing out on anything because I knew we had our own special traditions. Each week we celebrate Shabbat and my boys are familiar with the rituals. Hayden even recites most of the Hebrew prayers on his own. My feeling is that children will learn what we live rather than something that is just presented once a week at religious school and not practiced at home. However, our boys are still so young that I imagine it would be hard to distinguish the differences in holidays and that we only celebrate certain ones.

Recently, I had a discussion with a friend of mine about where to draw the line on these celebrations. We had a difference of opinion on this. I would like my children to experience Judaism and the traditions, building their own Jewish identity. I would also like them to have an appreciation for the beauty of other traditions and faiths, yet understand that those traditions are not our own. My friend was less comfortable with this. He was concerned that by letting our two year olds participate in Christmas and Easter festitivities, it might be confusing to them, or give them the wrong message. It was a great discussion with both of us acknowledging that the other had some really good points. I got off the phone from that conversation feeling like a very liberal parent who is open minded, ready to "someday" teach my boys about acceptance of everyone along with the value of our faith.

Fast forward to yesterday, when my approach to all this was accelerated before I had considered how timely this would be. When I went to pick up the boys from preschool, I read a letter on the classroom door explaining that the children would be writing letters to Santa, as the post office said they may receive a response back. Santa. As in Claus. As in asking and expecting to receive requested toys from a fictional character associated with a holiday we don't celebrate. Ughh. Well, I was knee deep in it now. I spoke with the school assistant director and explained that I had a real problem with this activity. She acknowledged that it is a sensitive topic and initially was concerned because they were going to be learning about Chanukah, Christmas and Kwanza at school. I quickly clarified that I am happy they are doing this and that Hayden should learn about all the holidays. However, writing a letter to Santa would give him the unreasonable expectation that Santa would bring him presents, which is not going to happen. I didn't want him singled out either by being told he had to be in another classroom during the activity. I suggested he write a letter to Mommy and Daddy or Grandma and Grandpa saying what he would like for Chanukah. She agreed that this was a good compromise, and mentioned again that this week the children are learning about Chanukah in the classroom with related activities and art. Great. Situation under control. I am Super Parent!

Bedtime last night-
Hayden and I are settling down for his bedtime story when he says "Santa isn't going to bring me anything." This was surprising. We haven't spoken about Santa, so I asked him to tell me why he said that. "Miss M said if I didn't take a nap, Santa wouldn't bring me anything and I didn't take a nap." Long pause as I absorb the implications of this. Miss M is not even his regular teacher. Due to staffing shortages he spent time in another classroom today. Every now and then, my little man discloses something very innocently that shakes my very soul. How dare she presume that we are giving our son expectations for a religious holiday? How dare any teacher use Santa as a weapon? How dare she make a threat that would make little kids feel like they are bad kids simply because they didn't receive something from Santa? How dare she usurp a parent's right to teach their child as they wish? Even if I were Christian and teaching Hayden about Santa, I would not use one nap as the benchmark by which he gets his Christmas presents. Being that we don't even celebrate Christmas, I was angry on so many levels.

Hayden and I spent a great deal of time last night talking about this. We talked about how we will be lighting candles, spending time with family and friends and opening presents. We were already going to read a Chanukah book, but it was preceded by rehearsing his response should he be threatened about Santa any more. He very clearly states "Santa is a story. I celebrate Chanukah." Now I do realize the risk here of messing it up for the other kids. I have no desire for Hayden to tip them off that Santa isn't real. It is a magical time for children filled with wonder and excitement and I would not want to rob a child of that experience. However, I feel so strongly that he needs to understand that his not receiving gifts from Santa is in no way a reflection of his behavior. Fillip was concerned about the words I gave Hayden, so we have revised his response to say "Santa is for Christmas. I celebrate Chanukah." I also spoke directly to his regular teacher this morning and she understood my concerns. I later spoke with the school Director, who first the very first time got an angry phone call from me. She seemed very upset when I told her what Hayden had said. When I asked her how the day was upon pickup she said "The kids had a great day. Some of the teachers, well, not so much."

Although I am satisfied with the school's response to my concerns, it opens my eyes to all we will face in the years to come. Our society is saturated with Christianity. While it is widely acknowledged that other faiths have equal importance, it is an uphill battle. We need to be constantly vigilant in forging a solid Jewish identity in our impressionable little boys, without them feeling like they are missing out on the other things.

Parenting is hard.

San Antonio

Howdy y'all. We are back from San Antonio, Texas. Logan and I had a great visit with my friends. I hadn't seen them in over four years, and it was so wonderful to finally exchange hugs and show off the kids. Logan did not sleep on the way there making the 2 1/2 hour flight seem much longer. He was so tired, but fought the nap all the way. Fortunately, once we arrived he was in good spirits, excited to see a new place. Mostly, I think he was just happy to have regained the freedom to run around. A very nice porter offered his help at the gate, as I must have been quite the sight with my baby, stroller, diaper bag and full-size carseat, on my way to get my suitcase. He was a very nice welcome to San Antonio.

The second my girlfriend and I saw each other, we both burst into tears, greeting each other for the first time as moms, each holding a toddler. Her house is beautiful, and she and her husband are so laid back that I immediately felt at home. Logan and I had some leftover pasta for dinner, he got to play with 19 month Brenna, and went to bed gratefully without a peep, just happy to have found his familiar blankie and ball in the pack n play. The next couple nights I would scoop him into bed with me, feeling that sweet little baby against me, with little smiles and giggles throughout the night when he realized I was right nearby.

On Friday, Gina and I stayed in our pajamas ALL DAY. Jim was in and out with meetings, but we were content to sit around the house with the kids, gabbing as if we see each other several times a week, without the need to formally "catch up." We took the kids outside in the afternoon, but only for about 10 minutes. It started sleeting and I told Logan that if ice is falling from the sky he must wear a hat or go inside. He "chose" to go inside. After dinner Friday night, Jim let us girls go out on our own, staying with the kids. Logan was fast asleep, but Jim was happy to watch Brenna and 5 month old Korbin. Gina and I spent a very short time cleaning up, then posed for a pre-revelry pic. This was a bit of a tradition of ours. We used to go out dancing almost weekly, and would take a picture before we left for our girl's nights. Things have changed a bit. Our clothing is ridiculously more conservative, each of us trying to mask the parts the scream out our history of recent pregnancies. There was no consulting on who is wearing what or if we can borrow a lipgloss. We both seem resigned to mediocrity for the moment until we each scare up the motivation to retrieve our former hot bods. Of course, we each look at the other in admiration for her attractive traits, downplaying our own. Such are the lives of thirty-something us. Hardly the caliber of our last bash- Gina's thirtieth birthday where we spent the evening yelling "Sake bomb!" and singing in public. Anyway, Gina and I headed out to a local martini bar and enjoyed a mellow evening of more conversation over a couple of drinks. While there, I finally reached Fillip. He asked Hayden if he wanted to talk to Mommy, and in the background I hear "No thank you!" Um, what? Put that little bugger on the phone! He told me he was having fun with Daddy and being a good boy.

On Saturday, me and my hosts drove to Austin for lunch with my online friend J. It was so wonderful to meet her and her handsome boys in person. Along with being beautiful, her sweetness is so obvious, and I was lucky enough to meet her family as well. They were a gracious bunch, and I am so glad we could get together. It did turn out to be a lot of time in the car that day, but Logan was a champ, napping both ways and being his cheery little self. We spent the afternoon at The Alamo, then a bit of time at the San Antonio Riverwalk. I absolutely love historic sites and I tried to picture what it must have been like to be holed up in that building during a fierce battle. I took a pic to show Logan one day that he had been there. The Riverwalk was beautiful with multicolored lights shimmering on the water and boats going by. I would love to go back and spend some more time there one day, enjoying a meal by the water. As it was, the kids were exhausted and hungry, so we quickly made our way back to the car and went home for some authentic Texas BBQ from their favorite place.

Sunday was a bit more rushed in order for me to catch my flight. Jim and Gina made a delicious breakfast for our send off. Logan insisted on ketchup on his blueberry pancakes, but who am I to judge? The flight home was much easier since Logan slept for two hours and was placated with goldfish crackers and water until landing. Throughout the entire trip Logan was auditioning for Toddler of the Year Award. He was wonderful all weekend, quickly adjusting to being with new people, rarely cranky and oh so friendly. When Jim's dad popped by, Logan immediately snuggled up in his arms and spent a great deal of time petting and kissing baby Korbin. Although he and Brenna had a couple conflicts over toys, mostly they seemed content to play nearby with little intervention necessary. It was so much easier only watching one kid of my own!

When we arrived back in Los Angeles, Hayden and Logan were so glad to see each other. They stood at the baggage carousel just hugging and kissing each other while we waiting for my suitcase. Such little sweethearts. It had been a wonderful trip, but I was happy to get home.

In my day we would have just said Ox.

Hayden seems to be pretty articulate. He picks up various words and phrases and uses them in context when we least expect it. Last night he chattered on and on about which cars need to be fixed, what about them needs to be fixed and who will do it. "Daddy needs to fix the motor in the brown car, but the green car has a broken wheel and needs to be taken to the shopping." Ok, so sometimes it gets a little mixed up, but you get the idea. Last night he started a sentence with "The fact of the matter is..." and he was right.

My favorite time of the day is bedtime stories with Hayden. He picks which book he wants to hear, then snuggles up on his bed with me and his stuffed froggy. He is pretty consistent in picking the same five books or so and is very familiar with each one. Last night he totally floored me by reciting nearly the entire book on his own. It was an alphabet book that has a verse for each letter. Even better is the fact that he can look at a page with the entire alphabet on it and identify most of the letters by sight. I then quiz him on what starts with that particular letter. It's fun to see what he comes up with and how he identifies things.

Me- "Hayden, what starts with H?"
Hayden- "I do!"
Me- "That's right! Hayden, what starts with D?"
Hayden- "Daddy starts with D!"
Me- "Very good! Hayden, what starts with O?"
Hayden-"Occupation!"
Me- stunned silence

Oh for Pete's sake

Today just sucks.

My car runs a little rough in the morning, but I chalked it up to being cold. Well, this morning the Check Engine light went on. The online Owner's Manual was very reassuring that the light doesn't necessarily indicate anything serious, but I was quite frustrated by the presence of that light as I wound my way through the canyons. As I was contemplating my bad car karma I was shocked when all of a sudden- BAM! It is trash day on that road. As I came around a bend, a trash barrel was sticking out and my side mirror tagged it, shattering, mockingly bouncing in the wind the rest of the way to work. I nearly started bawling, not for my usual sentimental reasons, but for the sheer frustration of finally having a nice car that now needs to have the engine checked and a mirror replaced after just a few days. Fuck!

By the time I got to the office I had worked myself up pretty good, felt really stupid for the mirror (even though a couple people thought the homeowner or city should be responsible), and wanted to just go crawl back in bed. Then Fillip called. Logan woke having thrown up in his crib during the night. Fantastic. Given some details I will have the consideration to not describe here, Fillip determined it had happened several hours earlier. Our theory was that something he ate either didn't agree with him, or he gagged a bit in his sleep. We've seen it happen when he was awake, plus he had a late, heavy dinner, trying clam chowder for the first time. He was happy as can be this morning, so off to school he went. I was a bit concerned about this knowing a stomach bug is going around, but being already at my desk, had to defer to Fillip. Well, lo and behold, the school called me at lunchtime. I figured I knew what was coming. Well, almost. Hayden was throwing up.

My MIL was available to get Hayden, but doesn't have any carseats. For a variety of reasons, Fillip decided to pick up Hayden, and I would get Logan when I left work. Ok, all settled. Then Fillip called me a little while later to say my MIL would get Hayden after all. She now had Filllip's carseat. Why? Because Fillip had gotten a flat tire on the way there, so his mom had to come get him anyway. She would go get Hayden while Fillip went to get his tire fixed.

Indulge my little Pity Party here- Why are we so subject to random (albeit minor) misfortune?

As much as I'd like to think this is the end of it, I suspect it's only the beginning. These bugs tend to spread like wildfire, so I fully expect that neither boy is done with it. We still have the "2nd stage" to deal with which isn't much fun either, and either Fillip and/or myself I will likely get it. It should make for quite the weekend. On the way to pick up Logan I will be stopping at the store to get vomit provisions. If a random sinkhole doesn’t open up and swallow me on the way there.

Cosmic irony

My office building held it's annual fire drill yesterday. I was not chosen as the floor Fire Warden.

Over the weekend I had a blast...literally

Saturday night my girlfriend came over to gab. It was darn cold for L.A. (hey you Minnesotans- stop laughing! I was shivering!) so I decided to light a fire in the fireplace. Well, maybe these things are best left to my husband. I swear, I only turned the gas on a little way and I have no idea why the flue was closed, but did you know that a combo like that will actually create a fireball in the livingroom? No, I'm not exaggerating. (Mom, catch your breathe, I'm fine.) As I heard the thundering whoosh and felt a hot blast shoot past me, I was kind of stunned. I turned to my girlfriend, who looked equally stunned and said "Um, is my hair on fire?" According to her, a little plume of smoke drifted from my head and she said "Well, not anymore."( Mom, put down the phone- I'm really fine.) I turned down the gas some more and went to run my hand under cold water then assess the damage to my hair. It looked really weird, like I had been collecting cobwebs on the left side of my head only. After a good wash the smell and charred bits are almost gone. It doesn't even look very uneven. Fillip was at his friend's house and got a phone call requesting "air freshener and burn cream." His response was to have me get on the phone and asked me "Are you serious?" Yup. Dead serious. So, my hand is a bit red and sore, but after sleeping with ice on it all night, it is ok.

Consider that a PSA. You're welcome.

Thanksgiving and stuff

When I say we had a Big Family Thanksgiving, I'm not kidding. We alternate years between families, and this year we were with Fillip's family. My MIL hosted 58 people Thursday. Twenty five people declined. The holiday actually started on Wednesday for us. I took the liberty of getting a mani/pedi before hitting the road. That was a mistake as traffic was terrible, making my drive nearly 2 hours- for only 20 miles! Nonetheless, with polished toes I faced a weekend of Thanksgiving festivities. On Wednesday night we moved furniture, set up tables, and set the tables- with assigned seats. The kids had a great time playing with their cousins, wondering what was happening at Grandma's house. The traditional bean/barley/ meat soup went over well "preparing our digestive systems for the next day" as one cousin commented.

Thanksgiving dinner was delicious and it was nice to visit with people. It seemed more relaxed than past years for some reason, but I don't know why. Maybe it's my new drinking habit, I really don't know. Just watching the "system" of getting dinner out of the kitchen was amazing. Hayden had a great time running after the "big kids," although I did notice him playing by himself for awhile. He gets a bit overwhelmed and seems to need some time away from other people. Fair enough. Logan was friendly, but became rather clingy as it got crowded. Can't blame him really. The house he is so familiar with had different furniture and a sea of legs, many of which had unfamiliar faces at the top. I liked him all snuggled up to me, so no complaints there. He did spend some time playing with the others. The spread of desserts was amazing as always from guava jelly cheesecake to white chocolate pumpkin cheesecake to chocolate kahlua bundt cake. That morning Hayden and I had baked a double chocolate/cream cheese swirled bundt cake (mmmm!!) which ended up being my favorite dessert. We tried putting Logan to bed at one point, well, at four points, but he screamed his head off and I finally decided it wasn't worth upsetting him that much when we would be leaving soon. The little monkey was thrilled to be taken back out of bed and seemed rather smug the rest of the night, but that could just be me. Despite being up nearly 3 hours past their routine bedtime two nights in a row, the kids were phenomenal. Of course, we paid the price for that the rest of the weekend, but overall, they were really great.

Recently, Hayden has been such a good boy. We tell him constantly and it is a joy to watch him include his little brother, share with him, "read" to him, and just be a sweetheart. He has decided that in return for his overall good behavior, he should get some leeway in naptime and bedtime. It takes him hours to go to sleep! This too shall pass. The weekend naptimes and betimes were such a challenge, until he finally crashed out of sheer exhaustion. Then he would get up and tell me how well he slept and what a good boy he is. Hard to argue with that groggy tousled face. Logan has developed some separation anxiety and clings to me quite a bit, gets really cranky and seriously objects to me leaving the room at bedtime. Over the weekend I would pat his back until his became too heavy to keep open, then just stand next to the crib. Now and then he would turn his head to make sure I was still there, then lie there quietly, alertly, content as long as I was nearby. The second I would leave the room, no matter how deeply he seemed to be sleeping, he would scream bloody murder for me to come back. Last night was a bit better, so hopefully he is feeling a bit more secure. The pending teeth aren't helping.

Friday my mom and her husband were in town. The kids were so excited to see them! Hayden had to show them all his favorite things and was so excited to go out to lunch with them. He just kept saying "Grandma Roz and Papa Arnie are coming to see me!" Yesterday, he got all excited again for my brother and sil to come for dinner. He "read" my bro Curious George and showed his Auntie Joycie all his best tricks. "Watch this! (crashing into the couch, flinging his feet up behind him) Did you see that? Wasn't that cool!" He was happy all through dinner, asking for more of this and that, then put on a great display after bathtime running naked through the house screaming "Nature Boy!!!!" Of course, he had a naked little shadow running after him, giggling all the way. Despite getting all riled up, he went to bed nicely after his story. Logan on the other hand was in fine form this weekend, especially at mealtime. He is so cute with those sweet blue eyes, his funny chatter and big grin. Then something changes. Just picture Jack Jack from the Incredibles, including the funny tuft of hair. That's my boy.

So, I have to say it-
I'm thankful for my wonderful husband, my beautiful boys, my family, my friends and my health. Happy holidays everyone.

My New Wheels!!

After nine years in the same car, I have finally gotten a new one! I am the proud owner of a new-to-me black 2003 Volvo C70 Wagon. Welcome to Mommyland in the fast lane! My previous car was a 1998 Chevy Malibu. For the last 8 years I have hated it with a passion that stemmed from a Difference of Opinion. I thought my ex-husband (rat bastard!) should pay it off as stated in our divorce settlement certified by the court, and he thought it more prudent to let it nearly get repo'd without informing me that he wasn't paying it. So, I spent years bitterly paying for that car until I paid it off, only to have it die dramatically a few months later. That is where the other Difference of Opinion comes in. I thought it should run, and it, clearly felt otherwise! Every six months the brakes would start squealing, then grinding, needing to be replaced with new pads as well as turned/new rotors. We replaced the engine at about 60,000 miles, only to have it die again last week. It had a cracked windshield (ok, that was kinda my fault, forgot to take the garage door remote from baby Hayden), the A/C didn't work and the driver's side window wouldn't open. It was so humiliating driving into my office parking garage each morning, peering through that windshield, having to open the door to scan my key card, then rattle to my parking space. At the end of the day, I would have to open the hood to put water in each day, always hoping nobody I know would be coming or going at the same time as me.

Last Friday was the last straw. I put water in before leaving work, but after just a couple miles the temperature started rising. I drive windy canyon roads with no convenient place to pull over and no cell phone reception. As the temperature gauge slowly climbed, steam began coming out of the hood first as little tendrils, and eventually billowing out with the distinctive pungent odor of antifreeze. As I neared the top of the hill (Mulholland for those of you playing at home), the red light on the temp gauge went on with a "Ding!" and the rattle became a roar. My thought- "Well, if I can get to the top, I can cruise on down." Sure enough. I coasted on down, making the quick hairpin that would bring me to Fillip's Grandparents' house, where my car was kind enough to shut itself off as I got to the curb.

So… after a very harried week with only one car, I was able to purchase my new sleek auto this weekend. Well, let me clarify. My Mom is a lifesaver and made it possible to buy this car this weekend, with no pressure for an early payoff, and not even the hint of guilt.

THANK YOU MOM!!

I was determined to get a stationwagon. We need the extra seating if we want to go anywhere as a family, with even one more person. There are several reasons I wanted neither an SUV nor a minivan, and it was a surprise to me that a used, quality, economical, 7+ passenger station wagon was so difficult to find. At each car lot we would state very clearly what I was looking for, saying I was not interested in an SUV or minivan, hoping to leave quickly if they didn't have it. Multiple sales people tried using the argument that "Nobody drives station wagons anymore, so you shouldn't either. Take a look at these SUV's and minivans." Compelling, huh? So, after inquiring at multiple lots, reading through likely 50 online ads, and an encounter with an extremely shady private internet dealer at the Tommy's Hamburger parking lot, we found The One.

This car is really great. It is black inside and out, a welcome change to the oh so exciting champagne/oatmeal combo (read: beige on beige) of the Malibu. The sound system sounds great. The leather seats are cushy. It has great power, and most importantly it handles those canyon roads like no other car I've had! Believe me, I pushed it and am not exaggerating when I say that I was giving a mental "whoo hoo!!" around many of those turns with a big grin on my face. I proudly pulled into the parking garage this morning, rolled down my window to scan my key card, then took my time parking in one spot, backing into another, then spending another 5 minutes primping in the vanity mirror, hoping someone, anyone would see me in my new ride!!

Our Fairy Tale

(This may be cheating. When we got engaged, I attempted to write a fairy tale describing how we met. I failed miserably, and this version is the wonderful version my Mom wrote. I just thought I'd like to have it on here.)

Long ago, in a land far far away (known as Northridge) lived a Jewish prince called Lord Fillip. At the same time, in a distant land known as Simi, a beautiful Jewish princess was growing up. She was called Lady Marlo (also known as Mop). Although the prince and the princess had not met, the both were a part of a royal assembly called USY.

During the 14th year of the prince and princess, they both were summoned to attend a meeting of the royal assembly. The princess and her family made great preparation as this was her first royal synagogue ball and many young people from other lands would be in attendance. During the ball, a local prince invited Lady Marlo to dance and while they were dancing, he introduced her to Lord Fillip. Princess Marlo thought he was very handsome in his toga although she did not understand his native garment. She wished to dance with him but, alas, he danced away and her fairy godmother was not there to help. Some months later, the prince and princess were summoned to an even larger royal assembly. This time the fairy godmother spelled them into the same discussion forum. The princess was enchanted with the prince. His eyes twinkled, his braces sparkled, his charm was abundant and Lady Marlo was dazzled. She tried to remember her royal bearing but the prince was also smitten. They attended the royal ball together and shared much time during the assembly. When it was time to return to their lands, the prince sent a message asking the princess to become his royal interest.

Although the promise did not last, Lord Fillip and Lady Marlo became mighty friends, a union that lasted for many years. He knew every jester she dated and she knew every frog that he kissed. Alas, during those years, the princess met an evil sorcerer who took her away to his land. After 5 years, the princess escaped and returned to her royal home of Simi Valley. The news of her return travelled throughout the kingdom and reached the prince. He travelled home on vacation, called the princess and they arranged to meet that very day. She arrived at his castle, crossed the moat to his door and, forsooth, their eyes met in the same old enchantment. This time they would stand together and face the dragons and fantasies of life. Over the next 3 years, they would travel together and protect each other. The road was long and sometimes dangerous but together they passed safely. One fine day, Lord Fillip asked Lady Marlo for her hand in marriage and they vowed to share all that was in their kingdom and allow no other to interfere. In a royal wedding, amid all the members of the kingdom and with great celebration and reveling, they were married and lived happily ever after.

Young at heart

Some days I just need a little pick-me-up. I've recently learned that I am a much better mom if I have a cocktail with dinner. Yes, that sounds really bad. I'm not a big drinker, so half a drink will do it. I'm averaging either a glass of wine or part of a cocktail once or twice a week these days, and thoroughly enjoying my new drinking habit. A funny thing happened though.

We went for dinner at a local family-friendly burger chain. Hayden needed to go to the bathroom when we arrived (since it isn't possible to order a meal unless he knows what the bathroom looks like) and he wanted Fillip to take him. I told him Daddy wasn't available because he was ordering Mommy a drink. Fillip said that was true, very agreeable to the option of selecting my cocktail over managing a toddler at a urinal. Well, when we returned to the table, the prepubescent waitress came over apologetically requesting to see my i.d. My i.d! Hah! That's a good one! No, seriously, she needed to see my i.d. or couldn't serve me a drink. Maybe she didn't realize that the happiness of my family depends on it. Maybe she didn't realize that the shaky balance of my very sanity rests on this cocktail. Whether she realized it or not, I had not brought my purse. My driver's license, that precious document that not only verifies that I am old enough to order a drink, but to also serve in the U.S. Senate, was at home. So, no drink for me. Did I want a blended virgin cocktail, came the very chipper suggestion. No thanks. That would just be wasted calories.

All of her repeated apologies were met with a gracious "That's ok, you're just doing your job." She doesn't know that she managed to counteract numerous strangers greeting me as ma'am, the demise of my ability to shop at Forever 21, or the dubious honor of being a Matron of Honor at my niece's wedding.

She got a rockin' good tip!!

Trick or Treat!

Halloween was a fun-filled day for the boys. Hayden dressed up as muscle bound Spider Man and Logan was a Ninja. They were so cute and both loved wearing their costmes, head gear and all. They got to wear or bring their costumes to school for a Costume Parade and Carnival. Hayden insisted on wearing his pajamas under his outfit, and was probably the most comfortable kid there. Logan brought his outfit to be put on later in the day. When I arrived at the school, Logan was all dressed up, with his hood, snacking away. He was covered in something that looked like a combination of cookies and candy. Probably was. He was the stickiest, happiest Ninja you ever saw. Hayden was inside when I got there, but came out with a giant sucker and a big grin. There were treats set out so the kids could just help themselves. I joked with the Director that they were going to get the kids all sugared up, then send them home to us. She said absolutely! Hayden kindly shared his sucker with Logan, but drew the line at sharing with his friends. Good call. We played for a few minutes then headed home.

At home we hung out for awhile waiting for Marlena and Aaron. The kids were bouncing off the walls! They were so excited, and on such a sugar high. Once Marlena and Aaron arrived, the kids showed off their costumes, and Marlena outfitted them with a ghost bucket and a Frankenstein bag. They each had something to collect candy in. Logan loves carrying a bag on his shoulder so this was perfect! Marlena and I hit the streets with the kids. Fillip and Aaron took responsibility for ordering dinner, having a few beers, and greeting trick-or-treaters. We got exactly ZERO trick-or-treaters.

This was our first year trick-or-treating, and although I explained it to Hayden, there is a learning curve. It didn't take long though before he was handling it like a seasoned 10 year old with years of begging under his superhero belt. At the first house, we coached him to knock and call "Trick or Treat!" when the lady opened the door. Logan only had to be told to follow his brother and stood there expectantly while Hayden took care of things. The lady was appropriately delighted by our little munchkins, generously handed out candy, then spent a moment trying to keep them out of her house. We scooped them up and explained we don't go in and to say thank you, then moved on to the next house. Well, Logan was not happy about leaving that nice old lady who had just given him candy! It only took a couple houses though before he would toddle after Hayden, bag on his shoulder, wait patiently for the door to open, then hold out his hand for the candy. He would say "tat da" which means thank you, put the candy in his bag, then go right back to the stroller, ready to hit the next house. The two of them were so cute. Hayden would often ask if he could ask more. Despite us telling him we would get plenty and save some for the next people, the neighbors always indulged his request, which meant he asked for more many times! At one house, nobody answered his knock. He knocked louder yelling "knock!knock!" Finally, he just started yelling "Answer the door!" We had to convince him that they were out trick-or-treating, so we should move on.

There were surprisingly few people out, but the neighbors were all so happy to see the kids. It occurred to me that another purpose is served here. The kids love getting out and getting a big stash of candy, but we had the opportunity to meet our neighbors. I think in a way it brings the community together. We had such a great time with the boys. As we were at our last house, our next door neighbor, Fillip called to say dinner had arrived. We brought our sugar babies home and got some "real" food into them- pizza and pasta. They ate tons, got crazy hyper on a couple pieces of candy, then crashed and burned in a blaze of Halloween glory. I've never had more fun on Halloween.

The Punkin Patch- Where kids go to be a punk?

As a kid, every Halloween included a trip to the pumpkin patch. We would head out to a local farm, take a hayride, and pick the most perfect pumpkin from the field where it had grown. I've long looked forward to bringing my kids there, and building the same type of wonderful memories I have of that tradition.

Sunday was the day. After an early morning call from my Father in Law asking when we were going to come pick up our early risers, we headed out. Hayden had been talking all morning about going to the Punkin Patch. We went to breakfast first, then headed out to the boonies. Being that we live in a very urban area, we really don't spend much, time on farmland. Well, it wasn't quite as I remembered.

It seems that visiting families have become big business for Underwood Family Farm. There were signs directing us to a back lot where there were literally hundreds of cars parked. We were concerned that it would be complete chaos, but there was so much there to do that we never waited long for anything or felt overwhelmed by people. Logan had fallen asleep so Fillip and my FIL stayed in the car while I took Hayden to see what there was to see. The first thing my City Boy said as we got out of the car was "Mommy, is this dirt?"

We started with looking at different animals, then moved on to the wooden truck and train. After a short time Logan woke and my MIL arrived. While Hayden and Fillip purchased tickets, Logan and I admired the chickens. He really seemed to like them, which was cute. Once we regrouped, we headed to the choo-choo train ride. Little did I know how much fun that would be! Hayden was just delighted the whole time. He kept waving and yelling "Bye bye Daddy! I'm going on the choo choo! All aboard!" Logan seemed surprisingly blase about the whole thing. He slumped down a bit, slung his arm over the back and sat there looking like a seasoned rail commuter, ready to whip out his iPod and morning paper any second. Because I was concerned about Logan staying put, I got on the train too. It turns out I didn't need to, but it was cute to watch them anyway.

Next up was a pony ride. Now, I'm big on "firsts" so was very excited about Logan's First Pony Ride. He was apparently less entusiastic. When the first guy tried to put him on the pony he started to fuss and I called out that if he didn't want to ride, he didn't have to. However, another girl working there took him, showed him the pony's face, let him pet the animal and play with its mane, then put him in the saddle. I was so impressed that she took those extra couple minutes to make him comfortable. Once the few kids were in the saddles, the ponies plod around in a circle a few times. Hayden was excited again and obviously enjoying himself. Logan decided to be a stunt rider- "Look Ma no hands!" He kept his arms out by his sides the entire ride, as if he thought he wasn't really supposed to touch anything. Funny, because that never stops him from touching everything at home!

After the pony rides we headed over for what I thought would be a hayride out to the pumpkin field. This was what I was waiting for and had already framed the pictures in my mind. Well, it was a tractor pulling a very large wagon on a track around various small fields. It was about 10 minutes, with the final destination being right across from where we started, in an area where pumpkins were set out for sale, arranged by size. Hmm. I guess you really can't go home. No worries. We were having fun anyway. After a brief toddler meltdown, we headed over to pick out pumpkins. I have two very decisive boys. The both walked over, each picked up a little pumpkin and declared those to be The Ones. No looking over different ones, trying to find bigger ones, making sure they didn't overlook anything. Once they had chosen, they couldn't be swayed, which was fine. Total time spent fantasizing about taking my kids to the pumpkin patch- all my adult years. Total time spent in the pumpkin "patch" spent choosing said pumpkins- under 2 minutes. Since they were clearly tired at that point, we headed out.

Although the Pumpkin Patch wasn't quite how I remembered it, it was so much fun. The kids had an absolute blast, and we will surely go back next year. The memories my boys will have of the Punkin Patch may be different than my own, but no less valuable to them.

Halloween Bash

Saturday night the husband and I ditched the kids with the grandparents and headed out on the town. It was actually a very last minute operation. I think Fillip realized we were pitiful for not accepting invitations to two different parties the Saturday before Halloween. Getting out just the two of us is an extremely rare event. Having the kids spend the night is maybe an annual treat! Well, maybe trick not treat, as the little traitors woke at 5:30am and 6am, making it unlikely Grandma and Grandpa will volunteer again any time soon. So much for Daylight Savings and an extra hour of sleep.

The Knife Thrower and His Lovely Assistant
We must have hit half a dozen costume shops, some more than once as we scrambled to find the clever, cool, couple's costume. I had seen The Big Bad Wolf, but couldn't find Little Red Riding Hood. I thought it was hilarious to have Fillip in a nightgown, bonnet and wolf mask and gloves. He found those costumes, but not a hooded cape. Really, it would have just looked like the Big Bad Wolf had dressed up in drag, and scored himself a Beer Wench. We weren't feelin' that.

Well, we came across a winner. The (not so talented) blindfolded knife thrower, and his unfortunate assistant, aptly named Tina the Target. We were so jazzed about our costumes, found around 8:30pm on Saturday night. We ran home so I could throw on appropriate undergarments, got directions and hit the road. Since we were planning on going for fine dining at the Carl's Jr. drive-thru on the way (after all, it had become Date Night. Only the best...), I didn't want to eat in my white costume. Fillip was cracking up to see me in a long-line strapless bra, fishnet stockings, red pumps, and plaid Dodger boxer shorts. Whoo-ey! I think the guys in the drive-thru didn't know what to make of that.

We dressed in the street when we arrived at the party, and finally met our friends around 10pm. Despite all my doubts, it was well worth the effort. The party was great! The hosts are in the movie business and had gone all out on the decorating. They had bought discount coffins at a failing mortuary to make a funeral parlor (a gruesome one) in the front of their house. Upstairs was a haunted nursery. Outside was a fully working electric chair! One of their neighbors owns a hearse, so that was appropriately decked out as well. Following the haunted maze to the backyard, we found the band and a pumpkin full of jungle punch. The costumes were all great, ranging from gruesome to whimsical, to downright sexy. The weather was cool, but not freezing and we were having a great time.

Oh Jen, you Devil!
On the way there, Fillip had joked that with our luck, the cops would break up the one party a year we had gone to. Well, around 11:30pm, that is exactly what happened. I told him he jinxed it. There had been complaints about the noise. First they made the band stop, then about 30 minutes later made everyone go home. We were disappointed for sure. I especially felt bad for our hosts who had put so much effort into the evening. Nonetheless, we had a great time.

I am so glad Jen included us. She and her boyfriend looked spectacular as a red devil and Dracula. We had a blast with them, and hope we can spend Halloween with them next year as well!

TTP- You should try it.

It seems that our weekends are often filled with so much busy-ness, that we are too busy to enjoy our time together, nevermind actually get a decent amount of rest. We take turns running errands all day long. Tag Team Productivity (TTP). If both kids are napping (we can only wish!) then one of us stays home while the other gets cat food, light bulbs, and sweetens the other up with a latte. If only one boy is napping, one of us takes the other boy to the grocery store and the pharmacy. We take turns sleeping in. This is kind of a joke as far as I'm concerned.

My day to sleep in would be better described as an extra nap. Theoretically, I should be able to go to bed in the evening then not really wake up, definitely not get up until 9am or 10am the next day. Theoretically. However, usually, around 6:30am Hayden gets up to go to the bathroom, precocious guy that he is. It's not uncommon for the pitter patter of little feet and the sudden repercussion of porcelain to wake me from my sweet dreams of being able to sleep longer. If I lose the potty lottery, I will then hear the pitter patter approaching with a suspicious scuffle, followed by "Mommy, I need you to wipe my butt." There will stand a tousled Hayden, with his pants around his ankles. Amazingly, Fillip doesn't even stir.

Once Hayden is finished and washed up, I will give him a hug and kiss and ask him to play quietly in his room for awhile. Translated- "Please don't bother me until your brother wakes and I have no option but to get up." He usually complies really well, delighted that he wasn't told to stay in bed longer. If I close his door, keep Logan's monitor on loud enough to hear the classical music in there, keep my fan on and try really hard, I almost don't hear him banging things and rearranging the furniture. Still, Fillip doesn't stir. I climb back into bed for awhile, until Logan wakes and needs attention around 7:30am. Sometimes, I get Logan changed and back to sleep in his swing. If it doesn't take, then I nudge Fillip. Usually, by 7:45am Fillip is up and presumably I can go back to sleep. Unless he decides to take a shower. Or the boys are misbehaving. Or they decide to go for a walk so he comes to tell me that they are leaving. Or the baby is sleeping and they go for a walk, but wakes while they are gone. (This especially sucks since Fillip gets crappy coffee from 7-Eleven, but I'm not keen on their drinks. I get woken, and Fillip comes back with a tasty treat. Then we rush to breakfast, no time for my caramel frap, but I digress...) Since theoretically, I don't finally get out of bed until 9am, it was my day to sleep in. This means that the next day, I get up early with the kids without going back to bed. Fillip doesn't stir.

Well, Saturday I "slept in." At 9am, I was woken for the day and our weekend morning drill began. We like to go out for breakfast as a family, but are often playing Beat the Clock because we have other obligations. Within 15 minutes we were in the car, kids still in jammies, racing to our favorite coffee shop where we hardly have to order because they know what we want. The day consisted of the usual TTP, friends over for dinner, then me attending an engagement party alone, while Fillip stayed home with the kids. Surprisingly, I stayed at the party until nearly 2am chatting with people I don't see often enough. I fully expected to be dragging my ass all the next day, considering that morning, I had been granted an extra 35 minutes of sleep, thereby requiring me to be bright eyed and bushy tailed the next morning. Got all that?

My little munchkins surprised me. They slept in! Well, actually Hayden was up at 6am (bathroom), 7am (had somehow gotten the control stick off the mini blinds and gave it to me), 7:30am (wanted a snack, bathroom), 8am (just checking in) and 8:45am (Logan was crying.) He was good about playing in his room until I got up with Logan. Since Logan is the benchmark by which I decide to finally get up, his sleeping until nearly 9 o'clock was a big boon! At that point I was able to cheerfully get them changed, give them a snack and play until Fillip got up at 10am. We were all in a good mood and having fun together. I even got a wasabi and watercress potato salad made for a bbq later in the day.

Now, if only I could figure out how to get them to do that every weekend, I would be a new woman!

Unveiling of emotions

On Sunday, we held an unveiling ceremony for my Grandmother. Traditionally, the unveiling ceremony is given an uplifting tone. Mourners can be expected to reflect on their loved one with fondness, cherishing happy memories, and feeling like the grief has faded. As we gathered at Grandma's grave, I felt anything but uplifted. The pages in the booklet we read felt meaningless and irrelevant to me. I'm not ok with this. I'm not ok with losing her. As we wrapped up, I found myself too choked up to even express all the thoughts that were running through my head. Nearly a year later, I was unable to convey the depth of my grief.

I miss her more now than I did several months ago. Each day I think of something I would like to tell her or share with her. Each day I feel like we are all missing out on having her here with us. Her last couple years were sad and feeble. She was in a state of steady decline and it was frustrating and disheartening to watch her lose one ability after another, physical and mental. When she did pass away, it was almost a relief to know that she no longer existed in a state of limbo, living, yet not participating in life. I am still so glad I took 5 week old Logan to meet her(against medical advice due to her infection), to see the smile on her face and recognition in her eyes. She clearly knew that she was holding her newest great-grandson. As I put him in her arms, she tenderly kissed his soft little head, savoring this new life that was part of her. By that point, she hardly spoke at all. As I left I told her I love her and she said it right back, clear as day. Those were the last words she spoke to me, if anyone. Over the next few weeks she became gravely ill, fighting a battle against an unseen organism that ultimately won. Maybe she didn't fight. Maybe that was just us fighting on her behalf. I can still feel her soft skin under my fingers that last night as I held her hand and rubbed her arm, putting on lotion as Marlena had suggested to make sure she was as comfortable as she could be. It was hard to walk away that night and not a surprise to get the call during the night.

Now, although I do clearly remember all of this and the emotions that went with her enfeeblement, more often I think of her more upbeat qualities. I can vividly picture her dancing in the living room in her moomoo and dearfoams, rocking out to Donna Summers, Hot Stuff. I can hear her gleeful laugh as I bumped her marble in Aggravation as she taught me strategy, good sportsmanship, and the value of time spent together. Grandma and Grandpa's house was a haven for me. I loved being there. In high school, frequently made the 2 hour trip to their "new" place in the desert. Aged 3 or aged 20, there were donuts aplenty, and marathon Aggravation tournaments. I think of Grandma and Grandpa as a unit. As I said Sunday by her grave, she always stood quietly in his shadow and when he died, she was a shadow of her former self. After 60 years of marriage, her light had gone out. Those four years without him were sad for her, even has she took pleasure in her family.

Although she didn't have quite the same glow about her without Grandpa, her pleasure in my pregnancies was endless. She had tons of questions and I had the opportunity to get to know her now as a mother. She shared stories of her pregnancies and asked endless questions about our choice for names, how I was feeling and eventually, every detail of Hayden's daily routine and changes. He loved to sit on her lap, usually grabbing her glasses, and no amount of squirming and tugging on his part was too uncomfortable for her. Now that both boys are getting older, I wish she could see their daily schtick. She always took such joy in being with children, and I would love to see her get that joy from my own sons. She would kvell to see Hayden recite the Kiddush, and be a little mensch in temple, wanting to know when they would open the "cabinet," or ark to see the Torahs in there. She would have had so much fun as I clapped Logan's hands to Shabbat Shalom and made him giggle with joy at the festive song. She fostered our traditions and the love of family that is ingrained in me today. I am not ok with losing her.

I believe that the reason I miss her so much more now, is that I am able to focus on the good memories, rather than worrying about her decline. There is no longer any guilt for not visiting enough, for not doing enough, for not being able to make it better. There is only fondness and a deep love that she planted within me. As we pass on our religious traditions, she is there. As I take delight in teaching Hayden the Candy Land game, she is there. The value we place on family is influenced by her. Everything I do is in part shaped by her influence on me. Maybe the fact that I still grieve so deeply for her is her legacy at work.

I am ok with that.

Who say's men never ask for directions?

Hayden just cracks me up. He is very friendly and social. These days, whenever he has to go potty, he holds himself. Either his crotch or his butt, depending on the situation.

In the grocery store last week, he stopped a man to ask where the bathroom is. The man just chuckled and moved on. I took him to the bathroom.

In synagogue, just as Mayor Villaraigosa got up to speak (which I thought was really cool!), Hayden told me he had to go pee pee. Of course, we hindered the mayor's progress to the podium as we got up, and headed toward the bathroom. We sit near the front and it is a long way to the back. Hayden made his way with his hand firmly grabbing his pants, stopping to put his hand on other people's arms and loudly, urgently say "I have to go pee pee! Do YOU know where the bathroom is?" I kept assuring him that I in fact do know where it is. Then he stopped asking, but solemnly informed each row we passed, as if they needed an explanation for his departure, that "I have to go pee pee." It was so funny to see people cheering this little boy on, giving him knuckles and high fives to get there on time.

I missed the mayor's speech, but it couldn't have been nearly as entertaining.