Parking is never a problem.
The walk from the parking lot to my building takes me across a bridge that spans a beautiful canyon, which is a calming and uplifting way to start the day.
Often, I end up walking with a coworker or two, most of whom are smart and interesting and make for enjoyable company.
Student-run coffee shops! Two of them! The students ring a little bell when you leave money in the tip jar. Pavlovian? No matter. Their coffee is GOOOOOOOD, and tip-worthy.
Full use of the campus library, including inter-library loan. On my way to get coffee today, I picked up Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell and People of the Book.
I'm dressed up today, by which I mean that I'm wearing a skirt made of polar fleece.
The dining hall. Fountain soda whenever my little heart desires it.
The sports center. Exercise whenever I can muster the energy to go work out.
A mail room. I never run out of stamps.
Oh, yeah, the work. It's pretty interesting.
All in all, not a bad gig.
25 November 2009
24 November 2009
Conferences
I went to my first parent/teacher conference this evening. Yes, for preschool. I know!
The truth is that I want to find it outrageous, but I actually loved it. While I am a firm believer in letting kids be kids, not overscheduling, not pushing academics at too young an age, and encouraging imaginative play-based learning, I also love to hear people tell me how wonderful my kids are, and that was pretty much the purpose of this evening's meeting.
I am lucky to have found a fantastic preschool for Maddie and Riley, one where the philosophy is completely in line with what I outlined above, but one where the kids get structure and academic support in a gentle, individualized way. Maddie is so interested in learning to read and write, and Riley is fascinated by numbers, and their teachers help them along with these interests without pushing or forcing or making it seem to much like school. It's great. I'm so happy with our setup.
As a work-0ut-of-the-home parent, I also appreciate getting feedback on Maddie and Riley's behavior, strengths, and weaknesses since I spend a significant amount of time away from them. I was pleased that their teachers' reports aligned with what I observe at home.
I'm so proud of them, and proud of us for coming as far as we have as a little family of three. I think John would be proud of all of us, too.
The truth is that I want to find it outrageous, but I actually loved it. While I am a firm believer in letting kids be kids, not overscheduling, not pushing academics at too young an age, and encouraging imaginative play-based learning, I also love to hear people tell me how wonderful my kids are, and that was pretty much the purpose of this evening's meeting.
I am lucky to have found a fantastic preschool for Maddie and Riley, one where the philosophy is completely in line with what I outlined above, but one where the kids get structure and academic support in a gentle, individualized way. Maddie is so interested in learning to read and write, and Riley is fascinated by numbers, and their teachers help them along with these interests without pushing or forcing or making it seem to much like school. It's great. I'm so happy with our setup.
As a work-0ut-of-the-home parent, I also appreciate getting feedback on Maddie and Riley's behavior, strengths, and weaknesses since I spend a significant amount of time away from them. I was pleased that their teachers' reports aligned with what I observe at home.
I'm so proud of them, and proud of us for coming as far as we have as a little family of three. I think John would be proud of all of us, too.
23 November 2009
Ruminations on Habits
General Thoughts.
Habits are tricky. Good ones are so hard to establish, bad ones so temptingly comfortable.
I don't think I'm that unusual in that when I establish a good habit or correct a bad one—working out regularly, going to bed at a reasonable hour, not eating an entire bag of chips every night—one little slip-up can get me right back to that familiar comfort zone. Missed a day at the gym? Guess I'll stop going altogether. I know this about myself, and thus can be a little manic about maintaining the habits I work hard to establish. The idea of months of effort being undone by one day off the wagon is just too much to bear.
I'm trying to be more mindful of finding middle ground in these efforts, in not being so black and white. Working out once in a week is better than nothing. Eating a handful of chips is better than eating the whole bag. A lifetime's worth of struggle with perfectionism comes out in all kinds of ways, habits not excluded from that list.
The Habit of Writing.
Writing is, for me, like any other good habit I managed to get into place. Doing it regularly takes effort, but it's effort that's well worth it. One missed day, though, can so easily become two or three or five, and then the excuses come in and it's back to almost nothing.
I'm happy to have made this month NaBloMoreThanItHadBeenMo. It's not perfection, but it's more than I've been doing, and that has been good.
The Habit of Eating.
I'm a comfort eater, and I like to reward myself with food. I enjoy the rituals around food, I love the way food tastes, and I get great pleasure out of the wonderful way food can bring friends and family together. I do try to eat in moderation and to eat a variety of healthy food, but it's easy for me to get into bad habits around what goes into my mouth.
In the craziness of moving away from Boston, starting a new job, and settling into a new house, I had established lots of poor eating habits. Serving sizes were at an all-time high, I often ate dinner twice (with the kids and after they went to bed), plus some kind of snack and a glass or two of wine once the twins were asleep. I was exercising more—which I continue to do—but not enough to offset my consumption.
It finally got to the point that my pants no longer buttoned without significant effort. My hatred of shopping and my cheapness were enough for that to be the straw that broke the camel's back. And so, for the past three weeks, I've been doing Weight Watchers again.
And I've lost five pounds! Additionally, I've been eating tons more fruit and veggies, and so have the kids. So it's all good. I want to lose about five more pounds—the pants now button, but they are still giving me the squeeze at the end of the day. It feels good to have good food habits in place again, though, and to just have a more realistic gauge of what a serving is. This will be the second time that I've been seriously doing WW over the holidays, though. It's a blessing and a curse. Trying to focus on the blessing part.
The Habit of Self-Care.
I started this post about six hours ago. Six hours, one trip to the doctor with Maddie (she's fine), one evening of dinner/bath/stories/etc., one hour spent cleaning the house, and two glasses of wine ago. I'd typed in the heading "The Habit of Self-Care" before hitting the save button, but now that I'm back to the post, I have no idea what I was going to write about. Huh. Guess my thoughts on self-care will have to wait for another day.
Holiday Habits.
For a bunch of logistical reasons, John and I got into the habit of spending Thanksgiving with his parents and Christmas with mine. The twins and I have kept this up. If memory serves, we missed the first Thanksgiving after John died—I'd have to look back in my archives to see what we did that year—but the following year we headed to Michigan and this year we'll do the same again.
I'm truly looking forward to the trip. I find hosting my parents-in-law quite stressful (although less so the past few times), but being at their house is a real pleasure for me. They take excellent care of me and the twins, and my mother-in-law is an amazing Korean cook. While my family can get carried away with plans and togetherness and FUN, John's family knows how to capital-R Relax. I'm planning to see a few of John's friends, and my sister-in-law has already laid in some wine. It should be a good trip.
Much to my surprise, I find myself wanting to go to John's grave site. The idea occurred to me just today. I've been fearful of feeling pressured to go to the site on past visits, but this time, I find myself ambivalent at worst and interested at best. I don't plan to push the issue, but if it comes up, I'm open to it. There are a lot of other things going on—Thanksgiving dinner, visits with friends, yoga, a family portrait—but we'll see. It's an immense relief not to feel dread at the idea of the grave site visit; I was so turned off by the idea of it as to not want to go to Michigan at all in years past. Progress.
Habits are tricky. Good ones are so hard to establish, bad ones so temptingly comfortable.
I don't think I'm that unusual in that when I establish a good habit or correct a bad one—working out regularly, going to bed at a reasonable hour, not eating an entire bag of chips every night—one little slip-up can get me right back to that familiar comfort zone. Missed a day at the gym? Guess I'll stop going altogether. I know this about myself, and thus can be a little manic about maintaining the habits I work hard to establish. The idea of months of effort being undone by one day off the wagon is just too much to bear.
I'm trying to be more mindful of finding middle ground in these efforts, in not being so black and white. Working out once in a week is better than nothing. Eating a handful of chips is better than eating the whole bag. A lifetime's worth of struggle with perfectionism comes out in all kinds of ways, habits not excluded from that list.
The Habit of Writing.
Writing is, for me, like any other good habit I managed to get into place. Doing it regularly takes effort, but it's effort that's well worth it. One missed day, though, can so easily become two or three or five, and then the excuses come in and it's back to almost nothing.
I'm happy to have made this month NaBloMoreThanItHadBeenMo. It's not perfection, but it's more than I've been doing, and that has been good.
The Habit of Eating.
I'm a comfort eater, and I like to reward myself with food. I enjoy the rituals around food, I love the way food tastes, and I get great pleasure out of the wonderful way food can bring friends and family together. I do try to eat in moderation and to eat a variety of healthy food, but it's easy for me to get into bad habits around what goes into my mouth.
In the craziness of moving away from Boston, starting a new job, and settling into a new house, I had established lots of poor eating habits. Serving sizes were at an all-time high, I often ate dinner twice (with the kids and after they went to bed), plus some kind of snack and a glass or two of wine once the twins were asleep. I was exercising more—which I continue to do—but not enough to offset my consumption.
It finally got to the point that my pants no longer buttoned without significant effort. My hatred of shopping and my cheapness were enough for that to be the straw that broke the camel's back. And so, for the past three weeks, I've been doing Weight Watchers again.
And I've lost five pounds! Additionally, I've been eating tons more fruit and veggies, and so have the kids. So it's all good. I want to lose about five more pounds—the pants now button, but they are still giving me the squeeze at the end of the day. It feels good to have good food habits in place again, though, and to just have a more realistic gauge of what a serving is. This will be the second time that I've been seriously doing WW over the holidays, though. It's a blessing and a curse. Trying to focus on the blessing part.
The Habit of Self-Care.
I started this post about six hours ago. Six hours, one trip to the doctor with Maddie (she's fine), one evening of dinner/bath/stories/etc., one hour spent cleaning the house, and two glasses of wine ago. I'd typed in the heading "The Habit of Self-Care" before hitting the save button, but now that I'm back to the post, I have no idea what I was going to write about. Huh. Guess my thoughts on self-care will have to wait for another day.
Holiday Habits.
For a bunch of logistical reasons, John and I got into the habit of spending Thanksgiving with his parents and Christmas with mine. The twins and I have kept this up. If memory serves, we missed the first Thanksgiving after John died—I'd have to look back in my archives to see what we did that year—but the following year we headed to Michigan and this year we'll do the same again.
I'm truly looking forward to the trip. I find hosting my parents-in-law quite stressful (although less so the past few times), but being at their house is a real pleasure for me. They take excellent care of me and the twins, and my mother-in-law is an amazing Korean cook. While my family can get carried away with plans and togetherness and FUN, John's family knows how to capital-R Relax. I'm planning to see a few of John's friends, and my sister-in-law has already laid in some wine. It should be a good trip.
Much to my surprise, I find myself wanting to go to John's grave site. The idea occurred to me just today. I've been fearful of feeling pressured to go to the site on past visits, but this time, I find myself ambivalent at worst and interested at best. I don't plan to push the issue, but if it comes up, I'm open to it. There are a lot of other things going on—Thanksgiving dinner, visits with friends, yoga, a family portrait—but we'll see. It's an immense relief not to feel dread at the idea of the grave site visit; I was so turned off by the idea of it as to not want to go to Michigan at all in years past. Progress.
18 November 2009
NaBloMoreOrLessMo
I've missed a day here and there, but I've been posting most days. For that, I thank NaBloPoMo, as the ritual of near-daily writing has helped me to rediscover my groove and start rethinking life events and how they become posts.
Maddie, Riley, and I had such a nice evening tonight, dinner with friends of mine from college and their two kids who bookend the twins in age. Maddie took a total shine to my friends' daughter, who is six and thus a revered Big Girl. She was totally sweet and patient with Maddie, which was lovely. My friends' house is warm and welcoming and totally kid-centric, which put M&R at immediate ease and thus allowed me to get some real talking in around the playing. When we got home, M&R wanted to do stories and milk in my bed, "like we used to do all night in Boston." Where all = every, then yes, exactly.
*********************
Things are moving forward with the condo sale. I'm not going to believe that it's real until I have the check in my hand, but from the looks of things, it's a matter of about three weeks before I'm no longer a homeowner. I can't wait. I've already spent my increased cash flow about 1,001 different ways, most of them worthy and some of them frivolous, but no matter how the money gets spent, it's going to be lovely to have the freedom to not stress out over every dime and not dip into savings every month to cover expenses on two households.
I don't like to shop and I'm generally pretty frugal, but I also don't like to be constantly stressed out about money. Who does? It's awful. This Thanksgiving, I'll certainly be feeling grateful that I'm free from that worry, a weight that is crushing so many people these days.
Maddie, Riley, and I had such a nice evening tonight, dinner with friends of mine from college and their two kids who bookend the twins in age. Maddie took a total shine to my friends' daughter, who is six and thus a revered Big Girl. She was totally sweet and patient with Maddie, which was lovely. My friends' house is warm and welcoming and totally kid-centric, which put M&R at immediate ease and thus allowed me to get some real talking in around the playing. When we got home, M&R wanted to do stories and milk in my bed, "like we used to do all night in Boston." Where all = every, then yes, exactly.
*********************
Things are moving forward with the condo sale. I'm not going to believe that it's real until I have the check in my hand, but from the looks of things, it's a matter of about three weeks before I'm no longer a homeowner. I can't wait. I've already spent my increased cash flow about 1,001 different ways, most of them worthy and some of them frivolous, but no matter how the money gets spent, it's going to be lovely to have the freedom to not stress out over every dime and not dip into savings every month to cover expenses on two households.
I don't like to shop and I'm generally pretty frugal, but I also don't like to be constantly stressed out about money. Who does? It's awful. This Thanksgiving, I'll certainly be feeling grateful that I'm free from that worry, a weight that is crushing so many people these days.
16 November 2009
Kind of Freaking Out
My mom has had a cough for about a month now. Nothing serious, but not connected to any illness. Just a dry cough, relatively infrequent, not getting better, not getting worse. It doesn't prevent her from doing anything she likes to do in life. It's just kind of annoying.
My stepdad has been asking her to go to the doctor and have it checked out. We're not really doctor-goers, my mom and I. She was married to a doc and I'm the child of one, and in general the family members of doctors don't go see their physician unless they are bleeding out or have a compound fracture, and even then they skip their family doctor and just go to the ER. But last night, when my stepdad mentioned to me how long my mom has been coughing and how he wishes she'd go to the doctor, something clicked for me. "Mom," I said, "GO TO THE DOCTOR. Sometimes people who have a random cough like this have lung cancer, and I need you to prove to me that you're not one of those people."
She e-mailed me today to say that she had an appointment for next week, which makes me happy. Not a moment too soon, I say. And I was calm, and hopeful that it will be nothing, a wasted visit, an unnecessary copay, and then we can all rest easy for Thanksgiving and the arrival of my stepbrother's new baby and my mom's birthday and all the rest of the holiday fun that lies ahead.
Then I read this.
And now I'm kinda freaking out on a lot of levels. I've read Melissa's blog for a while now, so I'm freaking out for her, hoping that it's nothing but feeling an awful twinge of the familiar. And I'm freaking out for my mom, because wow, well that cough could actually be something. And I'm freaking out for me because since John's death, I've been acutely aware of the fact that my parents are ageing, and that I don't know how I could live without any of them. They are all healthy and vibrant and unbearably important to me. They aren't allowed to get old, and they are most certainly not allowed to get sick. And no one else close to me, certainly not the person closest to me after my husband and my children, is allowed to have cancer.
It cannot be so, not for Melissa, not for my mom. Mom, prove to me next week that it's not so. And thank you for going to the doctor.
My stepdad has been asking her to go to the doctor and have it checked out. We're not really doctor-goers, my mom and I. She was married to a doc and I'm the child of one, and in general the family members of doctors don't go see their physician unless they are bleeding out or have a compound fracture, and even then they skip their family doctor and just go to the ER. But last night, when my stepdad mentioned to me how long my mom has been coughing and how he wishes she'd go to the doctor, something clicked for me. "Mom," I said, "GO TO THE DOCTOR. Sometimes people who have a random cough like this have lung cancer, and I need you to prove to me that you're not one of those people."
She e-mailed me today to say that she had an appointment for next week, which makes me happy. Not a moment too soon, I say. And I was calm, and hopeful that it will be nothing, a wasted visit, an unnecessary copay, and then we can all rest easy for Thanksgiving and the arrival of my stepbrother's new baby and my mom's birthday and all the rest of the holiday fun that lies ahead.
Then I read this.
And now I'm kinda freaking out on a lot of levels. I've read Melissa's blog for a while now, so I'm freaking out for her, hoping that it's nothing but feeling an awful twinge of the familiar. And I'm freaking out for my mom, because wow, well that cough could actually be something. And I'm freaking out for me because since John's death, I've been acutely aware of the fact that my parents are ageing, and that I don't know how I could live without any of them. They are all healthy and vibrant and unbearably important to me. They aren't allowed to get old, and they are most certainly not allowed to get sick. And no one else close to me, certainly not the person closest to me after my husband and my children, is allowed to have cancer.
It cannot be so, not for Melissa, not for my mom. Mom, prove to me next week that it's not so. And thank you for going to the doctor.
15 November 2009
Dreaming
Another widow blogger posted the other day about how she has dreamed about her husband every night for two weeks running. The dreams have brought her peace and restful sleep, although they have also brought her a raw sense of loss upon waking.
I commented on her post that I have not dreamed about John since his death. In fact, I don't think I've ever dreamed about John period. I tend not to dream of people I know well; instead, my dreams center around acquaintances who intrigue me, people I'd like to know better. More than once I've woken up from a dream and realized that I have a crush on someone. Many people who are grieving say that seeing lost loved ones healthy and vibrant in their dreams brings them a sense of calm and happiness. I've envied that, but only in an abstract way since I never expected to see John in the wanderings of my sleeping mind.
As you can now guess, that all changed last night. I had a vivid dream about John, and he was healthy and vibrant, but, oddly, we were attending his funeral together. We were graveside, next to each other, a crowd of people there with us. It was as though we were rehearsing for the service, but everyone was dressed for the real thing, and there was an officiant there. The officiant was an old friend of mine, someone I've reconnected with here in Portland (Hi, Liz! Do you even read my blog?), and she's not a clergy member. The box with John's ashes was in the ground and we were throwing dirt on it, and Liz was giving some kind of speech/sermon/I don't know what, and at the end she said, "Amen," then turned to John and said, "Is 'Amen' okay, or do you prefer a different closing?" He instructed her to use a word I'd never heard before and can't remember; when she looked puzzled, he told her that it meant "my one true love."
Very odd, all of it.
I can't say that dreaming about John made me feel any one way or another. Seeing him in a dream was for me like seeing him in a picture. I find it harder and harder to conjure the real emotion around what it felt like to have him around. I know that I miss him. Of that there is no question. But the specifics of his presence are lost on me. My life is so different now than it was when he was alive that I can't just slot him back in, and in a way, that makes his absence less acute. I can only imagine what it would be like to have him here, but I have no hard evidence to back it up.
I commented on her post that I have not dreamed about John since his death. In fact, I don't think I've ever dreamed about John period. I tend not to dream of people I know well; instead, my dreams center around acquaintances who intrigue me, people I'd like to know better. More than once I've woken up from a dream and realized that I have a crush on someone. Many people who are grieving say that seeing lost loved ones healthy and vibrant in their dreams brings them a sense of calm and happiness. I've envied that, but only in an abstract way since I never expected to see John in the wanderings of my sleeping mind.
As you can now guess, that all changed last night. I had a vivid dream about John, and he was healthy and vibrant, but, oddly, we were attending his funeral together. We were graveside, next to each other, a crowd of people there with us. It was as though we were rehearsing for the service, but everyone was dressed for the real thing, and there was an officiant there. The officiant was an old friend of mine, someone I've reconnected with here in Portland (Hi, Liz! Do you even read my blog?), and she's not a clergy member. The box with John's ashes was in the ground and we were throwing dirt on it, and Liz was giving some kind of speech/sermon/I don't know what, and at the end she said, "Amen," then turned to John and said, "Is 'Amen' okay, or do you prefer a different closing?" He instructed her to use a word I'd never heard before and can't remember; when she looked puzzled, he told her that it meant "my one true love."
Very odd, all of it.
I can't say that dreaming about John made me feel any one way or another. Seeing him in a dream was for me like seeing him in a picture. I find it harder and harder to conjure the real emotion around what it felt like to have him around. I know that I miss him. Of that there is no question. But the specifics of his presence are lost on me. My life is so different now than it was when he was alive that I can't just slot him back in, and in a way, that makes his absence less acute. I can only imagine what it would be like to have him here, but I have no hard evidence to back it up.
14 November 2009
The Highs Are High, The Lows Are Low
Highs
Lows
UPDATE: Just broke one of the dinner plates from my wedding china while doing the dishes! Add that to the lows. Boo. Off to bed now.
- Dinner with friends, continued joy with reconnecting, gratitude at friendships that withstand time and distance
- Sleeping in, lazing around, enjoying a quiet morning to myself before Maddie and Riley came home from Moo and Otro Ba's
Lows
- Annoying, frustrating, disappointing, potentially insurmountable news about the condo buyer's demands post-inspection; looks like the sale will go through, but not before I feel nickel and dimed, dried out, used, spit on, and kicked
- The whining. Oh, the whining! Even when they are saying something nice, they whine! I pretend not to understand whining, and then they sob and cry, and I ignore them and it goes on for an hour and our morning is ruined (Riley), repeat for a ruined afternoon (Maddie)
- THE WHINING IS KILLING ME
- Still feeling less than 100% healthy
- The fact that Oregon does not sell my go-to cold medicine because so many losers were using it to make meth. I might have to take a trip over the border to Washington to stock up.
UPDATE: Just broke one of the dinner plates from my wedding china while doing the dishes! Add that to the lows. Boo. Off to bed now.
Reason #27,838 That Living Near Family Is Great
When you are a sick, dizzy, feverish mess, your parents will keep your kids overnight so that you can go to bed at 6:30 p.m. and sleep until 7:30 a.m.
CURED.
CURED.
12 November 2009
Bleargh
Kids were better today, but I came home sick from work. Of course, did I relax and rest when I got home? No! I ran around with Maddie and Riley! Still, it was nice to be home and not giving my computer at work an addled, blank stare.
Unrelated to illness, although perhaps no less dull, is that I've been doing Weight Watchers again for a week and a half now. I'm not going to meetings or even doing the online version, so by "doing Weight Watchers" I simply mean that I'm diligently counting points and writing down everything that goes into my mouth. The good news? It's totally working. I lost two pounds my first week, and I've been eating more healthfully than I have in months, perhaps years. This program really works for me, and once I get through the first week of "Holy shit, you're kidding me, right? That's a serving of rice?" I get back in the groove and feel better, lose the weight, etc.
But tonight I totally had a fall-off-the-wagon moment. I've been dealing with sick kids and sick me off and on for almost a week now, and it's starting to get to me. So when my best friend told me that the salted brown butter crispy treats over at smitten kitchen were as good—no, better—than I even thought they sounded, I could not resist. I love Rice Krispy treats to begin with, and what Deb over at the SK says is true: just the simple step of five extra minutes to brown the butter along with the addition of some salt is the difference between nostalgic yum and true magic. Make them. Or don't, if, perhaps, you don't want to eat an entire stick of butter, six cups of Rice Krispies, and 10 oz. of marshmallows all by yourself.
Kids are in bed, I'm headed that way myself. We're all on the mend, I think. What better medicine than butter and sugar, right?
Unrelated to illness, although perhaps no less dull, is that I've been doing Weight Watchers again for a week and a half now. I'm not going to meetings or even doing the online version, so by "doing Weight Watchers" I simply mean that I'm diligently counting points and writing down everything that goes into my mouth. The good news? It's totally working. I lost two pounds my first week, and I've been eating more healthfully than I have in months, perhaps years. This program really works for me, and once I get through the first week of "Holy shit, you're kidding me, right? That's a serving of rice?" I get back in the groove and feel better, lose the weight, etc.
But tonight I totally had a fall-off-the-wagon moment. I've been dealing with sick kids and sick me off and on for almost a week now, and it's starting to get to me. So when my best friend told me that the salted brown butter crispy treats over at smitten kitchen were as good—no, better—than I even thought they sounded, I could not resist. I love Rice Krispy treats to begin with, and what Deb over at the SK says is true: just the simple step of five extra minutes to brown the butter along with the addition of some salt is the difference between nostalgic yum and true magic. Make them. Or don't, if, perhaps, you don't want to eat an entire stick of butter, six cups of Rice Krispies, and 10 oz. of marshmallows all by yourself.
Kids are in bed, I'm headed that way myself. We're all on the mend, I think. What better medicine than butter and sugar, right?
11 November 2009
Us and the rest of the world
Yeah, still sick. More sick. Seems like everyone is these days. Riley is pretty much fine, just dealing with a lingering cough and stuffy nose. Maddie is a mess: feverish even when medicated, runny nose and eyes, listless and with no appetite. I'm hanging on by a thread; I think I'm mostly just really tired.
Sick mode at our house involves lots of TV, books, and juice. The TV and the juice are pretty special treats, the books a part of the standard repertoire that don't require more energy than any one of us has. Sick mode also features eat-on-demand: if it sounds good to you and we have it in the house, you can eat it. Structured mealtimes are pretty much a no-go, and I try to offer a lot of fresh fruit, dry cereal, and other simple yet relatively nutritious things. Neither Maddie nor Riley is going to waste away over the course of a week's illness, so I figure anything that might help them feel better is worth serving.
I'm not planning to take anyone to the doctor for now. I don't want to get exposed to 1,001 things we don't have while the immune systems are down, and, for now, ibuprofen and Benedryl seem to be helping out enough for us all to get some rest.
Time to snuggle with the kids and watch Dora. Too bad they're too young for 30 Rock.
Sick mode at our house involves lots of TV, books, and juice. The TV and the juice are pretty special treats, the books a part of the standard repertoire that don't require more energy than any one of us has. Sick mode also features eat-on-demand: if it sounds good to you and we have it in the house, you can eat it. Structured mealtimes are pretty much a no-go, and I try to offer a lot of fresh fruit, dry cereal, and other simple yet relatively nutritious things. Neither Maddie nor Riley is going to waste away over the course of a week's illness, so I figure anything that might help them feel better is worth serving.
I'm not planning to take anyone to the doctor for now. I don't want to get exposed to 1,001 things we don't have while the immune systems are down, and, for now, ibuprofen and Benedryl seem to be helping out enough for us all to get some rest.
Time to snuggle with the kids and watch Dora. Too bad they're too young for 30 Rock.
10 November 2009
sniffle, snuffle, cough
Maddie and Riley are sick. I'm amazed they have remained healthy until now, given that they are immersed daily into the petri dish of preschool, and a new preschool at that. I think Maddie and Riley might actually be the only kids at their school who have yet to miss a day due to illness this year. As it would happen, tomorrow is a school holiday, so they might continue their streak, if only on a technicality.
They are luckily not seriously ill (knock on wood). Riley's cough and bit of a fever over the weekend are now just a lingering cough and congestion with no more heat. Maddie seems to be a few days behind and was feverish when I got home from work today. Between being under the weather and not having napped well, both kids were really tired, so we had a very mellow evening of a picnic dinner in the living room, two Doras (Two! I'm so crazy!), stories, and bed. They've been in bed for about five minutes and I think they're both asleep, which is unusal for them; they usually chat for a good half hour before dozing off.
Like most (all?) parents, I feel so awful for Maddie and Riley when they are ill. They are at least now old enough for me to comisserate verbally and explain that they will feel better "soon," whatever that means to the toddler's tenuous grasp of time. But I confess that I, like most (again, all?) parents, there is something so rewarding and sweet about caring for sick little ones. It brings out all the nurturing mama reserves, and it taps a wellspring of patience I otherwise don't know I have. I love the snuggling, the crawling into the lap, stroking the hair and curling up under a blanket. Maddie and Riley are extremely active kids, and while it's hard to see them slowed down by illness, it's nice to suddenly have two kids who just want to sit with Mama and be close.
I hope this is short-lived. I hope I don't get it! Sweet dreams to all.
They are luckily not seriously ill (knock on wood). Riley's cough and bit of a fever over the weekend are now just a lingering cough and congestion with no more heat. Maddie seems to be a few days behind and was feverish when I got home from work today. Between being under the weather and not having napped well, both kids were really tired, so we had a very mellow evening of a picnic dinner in the living room, two Doras (Two! I'm so crazy!), stories, and bed. They've been in bed for about five minutes and I think they're both asleep, which is unusal for them; they usually chat for a good half hour before dozing off.
Like most (all?) parents, I feel so awful for Maddie and Riley when they are ill. They are at least now old enough for me to comisserate verbally and explain that they will feel better "soon," whatever that means to the toddler's tenuous grasp of time. But I confess that I, like most (again, all?) parents, there is something so rewarding and sweet about caring for sick little ones. It brings out all the nurturing mama reserves, and it taps a wellspring of patience I otherwise don't know I have. I love the snuggling, the crawling into the lap, stroking the hair and curling up under a blanket. Maddie and Riley are extremely active kids, and while it's hard to see them slowed down by illness, it's nice to suddenly have two kids who just want to sit with Mama and be close.
I hope this is short-lived. I hope I don't get it! Sweet dreams to all.
09 November 2009
Very Superstitious
I have accepted an offer on my condo.
I signed the offer on Sunday, and those of you who are Facebook friends with me likely already know this rather gigantic piece of news. And while yes, it is in fact a huge piece of very exciting news that I want to sing from the rooftops and use as an excuse to buy champagne by the case, I suffer from superstition about saying it out loud too many times.
It was the same when I was in the interview process for the job at Reed. Things were going well, it was on my mind all the time, I wanted to tell people about it and benefit from their good wishes, but I was nervous. I felt like talking about it too much would jinx it somehow, prevent that next call from coming in, knock me out of the running. Talking about it was like pretending it was real when it wasn't, or something. Or maybe it was just self-preservation.
You see, the more people I told about the job the more people I'd have to tell if it didn't work out, and the more I talked about it the more I wanted it, thus making the potential disappointment of not getting it more acute. I have a lot of experience with sharing bad news, and I don't enjoy it. Every time I share the news, I have to relive the bad feelings again. It can be exhausting, so keeping things close until they are real can be a way to shield myself from some of the post-event damage.
The condo deal is more likely to become a reality than the Reed job was. I have a signed contract. The buyer is preapproved for the loan. As far as I know, the condo is in great shape and should pass inspection with flying colors. But. But. But. Something could come up at the inspection. Or the financing could fall through. Or the buyer could just change his mind. Until all the documents are signed at the close and the money has been transferred to my mortgage holder, I can't be as excited as I want to be. But I'm also too excited to keep the news to myself.
I'm trying hard not to think about how much money I'm losing in this deal and trying hard to focus on how much the sale of the condo will improve my cash flow. Frankly, given how poor my cash flow situation has been of late, it's been pretty easy to keep my thoughts in the right place for now.
I'm cautiously optimistic, extremely excited, and already spending my additional monthly income. First two orders of business? A trip back east to see my Boston friends and a big ol' party for all the people in Portland with whom I'm so happy to be sharing this city.
Closing date: December 11. Thirty-two days 'til the really, really, REALLY happy post.
I signed the offer on Sunday, and those of you who are Facebook friends with me likely already know this rather gigantic piece of news. And while yes, it is in fact a huge piece of very exciting news that I want to sing from the rooftops and use as an excuse to buy champagne by the case, I suffer from superstition about saying it out loud too many times.
It was the same when I was in the interview process for the job at Reed. Things were going well, it was on my mind all the time, I wanted to tell people about it and benefit from their good wishes, but I was nervous. I felt like talking about it too much would jinx it somehow, prevent that next call from coming in, knock me out of the running. Talking about it was like pretending it was real when it wasn't, or something. Or maybe it was just self-preservation.
You see, the more people I told about the job the more people I'd have to tell if it didn't work out, and the more I talked about it the more I wanted it, thus making the potential disappointment of not getting it more acute. I have a lot of experience with sharing bad news, and I don't enjoy it. Every time I share the news, I have to relive the bad feelings again. It can be exhausting, so keeping things close until they are real can be a way to shield myself from some of the post-event damage.
The condo deal is more likely to become a reality than the Reed job was. I have a signed contract. The buyer is preapproved for the loan. As far as I know, the condo is in great shape and should pass inspection with flying colors. But. But. But. Something could come up at the inspection. Or the financing could fall through. Or the buyer could just change his mind. Until all the documents are signed at the close and the money has been transferred to my mortgage holder, I can't be as excited as I want to be. But I'm also too excited to keep the news to myself.
I'm trying hard not to think about how much money I'm losing in this deal and trying hard to focus on how much the sale of the condo will improve my cash flow. Frankly, given how poor my cash flow situation has been of late, it's been pretty easy to keep my thoughts in the right place for now.
I'm cautiously optimistic, extremely excited, and already spending my additional monthly income. First two orders of business? A trip back east to see my Boston friends and a big ol' party for all the people in Portland with whom I'm so happy to be sharing this city.
Closing date: December 11. Thirty-two days 'til the really, really, REALLY happy post.
08 November 2009
Sunday
First breakfast in pajamas.
Second breakfast fetched by Ba and Maddie from the coffee shop up the street. There's nothing like latte delivery.
Pajamas 'til noon.
Cooking: lasagna, vegetable soup (plus lemon-dill salmon, sweet potatoes with chard, and apple crisp yesterday!)
Lots and lots and lots of stories (and having someone with whom to share reading duties).
Getting my iPod Touch fixed during nap (and surviving the frenzy of the Apple store. I. Hate. Malls.)
Taking care of some much-neglected housework.
Surprise b-day dinner for Ba at Moo's house.
Kids so tired they needed to be carried from the couch to bed after stories.
Riley is holding his own. He slept hard and long, and was barely feverish this morning (never over 100°F unmedicated). Then he took a three-hour nap. Post-nap, he stayed cool and his energy level was normal. I'm cautiously optimistic.
Second breakfast fetched by Ba and Maddie from the coffee shop up the street. There's nothing like latte delivery.
Pajamas 'til noon.
Cooking: lasagna, vegetable soup (plus lemon-dill salmon, sweet potatoes with chard, and apple crisp yesterday!)
Lots and lots and lots of stories (and having someone with whom to share reading duties).
Getting my iPod Touch fixed during nap (and surviving the frenzy of the Apple store. I. Hate. Malls.)
Taking care of some much-neglected housework.
Surprise b-day dinner for Ba at Moo's house.
Kids so tired they needed to be carried from the couch to bed after stories.
Riley is holding his own. He slept hard and long, and was barely feverish this morning (never over 100°F unmedicated). Then he took a three-hour nap. Post-nap, he stayed cool and his energy level was normal. I'm cautiously optimistic.
07 November 2009
NaBloPoMo: 1, Snick: 0
Missed Friday. Almost missed today. Oops.
Riley is fighting a cold, or what I'm hoping is just a cold, although hope is fading as this afternoon he spiked a mini-fever. And the coughing! Oh, the coughing. Before I toddle off to bed, I need to lay out the ibuprofen and the water bottle and the thermometer and put blankies on the couch in case the need for middle-of-the-night nursing arises.
My dad is here this weekend. The relationship I have with my dad and the relationship he has with Maddie and Riley are worth posts unto themselves, but my general sentiment about having him around is the same one I had about my mom's visit the other night: this is why I moved back to Oregon.
Riley is fighting a cold, or what I'm hoping is just a cold, although hope is fading as this afternoon he spiked a mini-fever. And the coughing! Oh, the coughing. Before I toddle off to bed, I need to lay out the ibuprofen and the water bottle and the thermometer and put blankies on the couch in case the need for middle-of-the-night nursing arises.
My dad is here this weekend. The relationship I have with my dad and the relationship he has with Maddie and Riley are worth posts unto themselves, but my general sentiment about having him around is the same one I had about my mom's visit the other night: this is why I moved back to Oregon.
05 November 2009
Thanks, Mom
My mom came over tonight for dinner, which was a lot of fun. Maddie and Riley adore her, and she and I had not had a chance to spend any one-on-one time together for a while, so the glass of wine + truffles + chatting after the kids went to bed was especially nice.
There are things I miss about living in Boston, but being close to family is a very sweet part of moving home.
There are things I miss about living in Boston, but being close to family is a very sweet part of moving home.
04 November 2009
Panda Bear and Sun Bear
At my dad's house, ready to head out and trick or treat.
At home in Portland, with the jack-o-lantern we carved together (they told me what to do, I wielded the knife)
What's inside that jack-o-lantern, anyway?
03 November 2009
Technology Failure
Tried to post Halloween photos last night. Technology let me down. Blogger was nonresponsive, Facebook photo uploader stalled out three times in a row . . . I gave up after 45 minutes of trying. Maybe tonight will be my night.
For now, I give you the text to support the photos-t0-come.
This was the first Halloween that Maddie and Riley really seemed to understand and be excited about. They talked for a month or so about what they wanted to be; Maddie chose panda bear and stuck with that while Riley went through a few options,* finally settling on sun bear "with long, sharp claws." I found the experience of making their costumes to be one of those defining projects of motherhood. I remember my mom going all out to help me make whatever costume I could imagine. I don't think I ever had a store-bought costume growing up, and because of this, I feel it is incumbent upon me to provide the same for Maddie and Riley. Plus I like doing crafty things. Plus panda bear and sun bear were pretty easy to pull off: black or brown pants, black or brown shirt, black or brown hat and gloves, sew on white belly for panda and white crest for sun bear, sew ears on hats, fashion claws out of duct tape, voilà.
Maddie really loved her costume, especially the part where I put black makeup around her eyes which ended up just making her look like a burgler. Riley ended up refusing to wear the gloves with the "long, sharp claws," and most of the evening he also went hatless, but that's OK.
We ended up being total lazy bums and driving around to our various trick-or-treating destinations. In our defense, my dad had compiled a hand-picked list of various friends who were waiting for us to drop by, and they lived far enough apart from one another that walking was not feasable. Maddie and Riley were trick-or-treating celebrities and recieved special treats at most of our stops; should we do plan ol' trick-or-treating next year, they might be disappointed.
Maddie and Riley had the routine down. Riley was the designated doorbell ringer. They both did well saying "Trick or treat!" and were happy to oblige if encouraged to take more than one piece of candy. Since we mostly visited the homes of friends, they also got into the habit of just barging right into people's homes to check things out and relax a bit after receiving their candy. The first time we went to the home of someone we didn't know, I had to hold them back from just inviting themselves in to watch some football and have some snacks. Shy, they are not.
I'm pleased that after what (for them) amounted to a frenzy of candy feasting on Halloween itself, Maddie and Riley have totally forgotten about their candy. I'm keeping it around for a week or so, just in case, then it's coming to work or going in the trash or something. Next year I will need a more robust plan around Candy Control; this year, I got off easy. A friend of mine advised using the Switch Witch strategy: showing the kids a special place in the house to leave candy for the Switch Witch, who comes at night and replaces the offered candy with some kind of non-food gift. I explained that to M&R and they seemed excited but then forgot about the candy, which makes things even easier. What do those of you with older kids to do for Candy Control? Just over the course of the evening I got tired of dealing with the, "Can I have one more piece? Can I eat this?" I'm not looking forward to that being prolonged.
Pictures to come.
*My favorite of Riley's options was recycle bin. I thought this was going to be the final choice, and it would have been awesome because the dude is obsessed with the various types of trash and the bins into which said trash goes. Of course, he also loves the sun bears at the zoo, and having two bears was cute.
For now, I give you the text to support the photos-t0-come.
This was the first Halloween that Maddie and Riley really seemed to understand and be excited about. They talked for a month or so about what they wanted to be; Maddie chose panda bear and stuck with that while Riley went through a few options,* finally settling on sun bear "with long, sharp claws." I found the experience of making their costumes to be one of those defining projects of motherhood. I remember my mom going all out to help me make whatever costume I could imagine. I don't think I ever had a store-bought costume growing up, and because of this, I feel it is incumbent upon me to provide the same for Maddie and Riley. Plus I like doing crafty things. Plus panda bear and sun bear were pretty easy to pull off: black or brown pants, black or brown shirt, black or brown hat and gloves, sew on white belly for panda and white crest for sun bear, sew ears on hats, fashion claws out of duct tape, voilà.
Maddie really loved her costume, especially the part where I put black makeup around her eyes which ended up just making her look like a burgler. Riley ended up refusing to wear the gloves with the "long, sharp claws," and most of the evening he also went hatless, but that's OK.
We ended up being total lazy bums and driving around to our various trick-or-treating destinations. In our defense, my dad had compiled a hand-picked list of various friends who were waiting for us to drop by, and they lived far enough apart from one another that walking was not feasable. Maddie and Riley were trick-or-treating celebrities and recieved special treats at most of our stops; should we do plan ol' trick-or-treating next year, they might be disappointed.
Maddie and Riley had the routine down. Riley was the designated doorbell ringer. They both did well saying "Trick or treat!" and were happy to oblige if encouraged to take more than one piece of candy. Since we mostly visited the homes of friends, they also got into the habit of just barging right into people's homes to check things out and relax a bit after receiving their candy. The first time we went to the home of someone we didn't know, I had to hold them back from just inviting themselves in to watch some football and have some snacks. Shy, they are not.
I'm pleased that after what (for them) amounted to a frenzy of candy feasting on Halloween itself, Maddie and Riley have totally forgotten about their candy. I'm keeping it around for a week or so, just in case, then it's coming to work or going in the trash or something. Next year I will need a more robust plan around Candy Control; this year, I got off easy. A friend of mine advised using the Switch Witch strategy: showing the kids a special place in the house to leave candy for the Switch Witch, who comes at night and replaces the offered candy with some kind of non-food gift. I explained that to M&R and they seemed excited but then forgot about the candy, which makes things even easier. What do those of you with older kids to do for Candy Control? Just over the course of the evening I got tired of dealing with the, "Can I have one more piece? Can I eat this?" I'm not looking forward to that being prolonged.
Pictures to come.
*My favorite of Riley's options was recycle bin. I thought this was going to be the final choice, and it would have been awesome because the dude is obsessed with the various types of trash and the bins into which said trash goes. Of course, he also loves the sun bears at the zoo, and having two bears was cute.
02 November 2009
Evenings
I'm stealing a few minutes to post from work because I know if I leave it 'til tonight, it won't happen.
Lately, my evenings seem to be over before they begin. I don't know if I was more organized about my time in Boston or if I have more to do here or what, but I feel like there are about five minutes instead of two hours between when I get the kids into bed at 8:00 and when I try to head to bed around 10:00. I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary, just the stuff that people in general and parents specifically need to do: washing up, packing lunches, paying bills, cleaning the house, etc. It somehow just seems to take me longer here than it did back east.
And now, after more interruptions than I can count, it's time to go home and figure out what to feed the masses for dinner. Time permitting, I'll post some Halloween photos as bonus content tonight.
Lately, my evenings seem to be over before they begin. I don't know if I was more organized about my time in Boston or if I have more to do here or what, but I feel like there are about five minutes instead of two hours between when I get the kids into bed at 8:00 and when I try to head to bed around 10:00. I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary, just the stuff that people in general and parents specifically need to do: washing up, packing lunches, paying bills, cleaning the house, etc. It somehow just seems to take me longer here than it did back east.
And now, after more interruptions than I can count, it's time to go home and figure out what to feed the masses for dinner. Time permitting, I'll post some Halloween photos as bonus content tonight.
01 November 2009
NaBloPoMo
Well, would you look at that: it's November first, a chance for me and the rest of the slacker blogging world to get back into the swing of posting more regularly. Really regularly. Every day regularly.
I'm not convinced that a post like this is better than no post at all, but I do feel like my writing muscles have atrophied. Perhaps by month's end things will be more inspired.
For now, I've got post-Halloween, post-time change, post-Maddie tantrum malaise to medicate with wine and 30 Rock.
I'm not convinced that a post like this is better than no post at all, but I do feel like my writing muscles have atrophied. Perhaps by month's end things will be more inspired.
For now, I've got post-Halloween, post-time change, post-Maddie tantrum malaise to medicate with wine and 30 Rock.
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