This is Not a Drill

It's Thursday and somehow I feel as if we are just getting this week started.  August was a doozy.  Not only did my husband open his second restaurant mid-month, he co-produced a five day music festival this past weekend and then headed straight into the work week!  Whew!  We are working for our Sundays off, that's for sure!

To really get an idea of what I'm going for here I'll say this: Yesterday was a funny day. 

Hey, do you ever rush someplace to get your kids out and into the world for, say, gymnastics or whatever activity you kind of half-guilted yourself into signing up for in the first place only to regret ever leaving your house?  Yeah, you were excited those first few classes and love their joy of learning and doing, and are certainly committed to your kids' needs outside your own little bubble, but after a few times of juggling the logistics of it all, it feels like a punishment.  Especially when there is a two and half-year-old involved whom you are working towards weaning- yes, weaning from the breast. And it's not going well and you probably don't want to nurse your thirty pound kid at the gym place or do the awkward weaning 'baby' dance- the one where the kid acts like he's going in for a hug and with all the force of his body weight flings himself into cradle hold while pulling on your shirt saying "Nuss, mom.  Pwease." and when you say "Not now," through gritted teeth while gently kissing his forehead he yells, "Ya naw Nice, Mama" "Pwease nuss." And you try to put him down but he sticks to your frame like velcro, like you can stand there without a hand on the child and they are stuck to your body, a toddler vest if you will.  And what's with the strength of the feet?  How do they seem to hook you with their feet once you've pried them from your body?  It's a wacky dance, this one.  

 So, you are begging the kids to put their pants on, stop licking that nickel, tackle them to brush their teeth, collect water water bottles, negotiate which shoes will work and then wiggle them on their fat little feet using your pointer finger as a shoe horn, trying to get everyone out of the house- all while half-listening to a run down of just exactly what Santa Claus should bring for Christmas this year, and even what he might like left out for his mid-night snack. (the clock is ticking- if we leave now we might make it on time)  Speaking of snacks, you'll need those, and an iPad for gratuitous amounts of screen time while one brother waits for another to take his hour-long turn on the gym floor- you've tried the no-screen thing (see the weaning dance above) and that's not going to do today.  You stuff all the essentials in the bag. Not enough coffee or b-12 energy boosts to entertain a kid for an hour without a screen, today. Hell, the only reason you'd left the iPad previous gym days was to not look like a screen addiction enabler, which you are not but heaven forbid anyone see your kid get into that Zone in public.  What's worse?  High Blood pressure or a super fucking happy kid who's getting his fill of Temple Run and Angry Birds Star Wars, saying stuff like "I love you, Mom" "You're a great Mom" and "This is the best day ever" in between dishing out hugs and kisses because he's that thrilled to get some unregulated screen time. I chose the latter. 

So you make it to the first of two gymnastics classes 10 minutes late, unshowered, slightly spastic but prepared.  And the kid won't go.  The only reason little brother was ever even enrolled is because he freaked out while waiting for his older brother to take his class, wanting to participate.  It's not that big of a deal but is feeling pretty grand on the scale of shit you don't want to deal with today. The toddler velcro thing is in full swing- maybe he has to pee?  You take him to the bathroom leaving your bags of crap on the ground and the other kid gleefully holding the iPad just as docile and compliant as ever, excited to finally return to his weekly gymnastics after summer break, and big time excited for a little extra screen time.   You are doing all of this for him.  You just want the kid to get to take his gymnastics class. His disappointments are your disappointments and he his needs have been second to his brother's since the day his brother was born, but you always seem to think of him the most. You are doing this all for him.  Even this giving him a sibling thing, you tell yourself. 

In a flustered mess after multiple attempts to convince little brother to take his class, even walking out to the car (while big brother sobs big tears- because it's his turn to cry) and walking back in because the little one says "My cwass?" and tricks you into believing he wants to try again- and you perk up and feel like you are winning- til you go back in and he goes with the teacher and you get situated, barely, and he is gets scared and is sobbing and running to find you and you are trying to get  to him and other Moms are frowning and looking at him very sweetly- he clearly is not ready to take this class. You are trying. You are just trying to keep everyone happy. So you leave because what's coming- what's coming if you stay is more fits and fighting to keep your shirt on and pleas to join the big kid class.  And big brother cries.  Sadly.  And you take the iPad because they are starting to argue over that thing, now.  No kisses, or neck hugs, or "best days ever."  Just "I'm sorry."  "We have to be flexible," "Sometimes these things don't work out" "Maybe I can get a babysitter for brother and just take you next time" (tears) "Let's go to the park."

But first you have an errand to run, and must drop by the house to pick up an item to drop to lady that is only in town for an hour.  As you round the drive to your home, there are cries for the park.  

"This will only take a few minutes." 

 (shamefully) "We are not just living your life- I have things to accomplish, too." 

"I'm just going to run in to grab a bag."

While inside it will also only take a second to relief your bladder- you had opted to skip that at the gym place even thought nature was calling.  As you pull up your trousers- you hear a child's cry.  It's literally been 2 minutes.  The car was running, the air on, and as you round the corner and your mini-van comes into view- you see your four year old's leg and arm flailing, his right half hanging out of his passenger door window, teetering.  Wailing.  Making an escape.    

"Moooooooom"

"Moooooooom"

Tears, terror.  All of that. 

"GET BACK IN YOUR SEAT." 

All you can do is take a deep breath, shake our head and laugh. 

You calmly walk out to the van. Your kid is scared.  You had warned him of the dangers of being left in the car on a hot day.  He unbuckled himself, turned off the car, locked the doors somehow and was bailing out of his window- all in like 3 minutes or less.  You are impressed, you hold his hand and look into his eyes and say "Buddy.... (trying not to laugh) I'm so sorry you were frightened, I only ran in for a moment and had to go potty.... I'm so sorry you got scared... but I'm impressed that you were making an escape...."  "It's okay."  "Next time just remember to unbuckle your brother, too."

Every have a morning like that?

***

Yesterday was Funny.

And this past weekend was full.  We had a fun hang with my sweet and hilarious friend Ashley that I met on Instagram, and her precious little girl, Lily.  The photo series below cracks me up!  Jasper was trying to umbrella-jack her, and sister is no fool.  (Her little brother is the same age as our little one)

  

 Am I right?  That's some sweet kid-stuff.
And this:

Of Course, I forgot my camera for *most* of my Roots Festival goings to, but here are a few that made it onto my disk:

***

A new month and a new season are upon us- so much promise and so much to look forward to!  Like boots and socks, cider and spice cake, surprises from Santa (we already know what snacks we'll leave out), cooler temps and a lower level of over-heating-in-the-car-danger alertness.  We made it past the heat of a season of intense growth in many places of our life, and are headed into cool down mode, I hope.  And possibly looking into a new approach at gymnastics class arrangements.  This is not a drill.  

Thanks for dropping by. 

From The Comfort of My Home

 I'm trying to recall the last time I actually left my house.  Today, I had every intention of running errands with the boys, but after several mis-fires of our take-off, and running into nap time for the little one, we ended up staying in for another hot August day.  Luckily the boys had their little school on Monday and Tuesday while I stayed at home recovering from a summer sinus cold that I'm having trouble shaking.  I feel like it's been since Saturday that I actually drove my car!  Yikes... 

So, today- like so many days this summer- was kind of wash, but I completed a few things that I was behind on, and after little Bear woke from his three hour nap- we did the usual chicken tending to.  He loves his chickens, and today got a good look at Blondie (who will soon return to her home coop outback behind the birth hut where I visited for home birth prenatals with both boys) readying her nest to lay an egg.  I think she got a little stressed out, and we ended up leaving her in peace to do her thing. Both our little boys sure do love to take for their "ditch," the little Jasper word for chickens. 

We are in the midst of slowly weaning our little 2 1/2 year old from breast feeding. And I say slowly because that's the pace he has set. Starting with night time (that's right, this little boy would "nuss" (nurse) all night if I let him) and we are wanting to take as much time as is necessary to have a gentle experience, but it's not exactly feeling that way. Gentle I mean. It's going slowly, but he is a fighter and that wears us out. Some nights are better than others, but in the midst of what could be one of the busiest time of our life, this guys' night nursing walking papers are not being served with the most compliance.

I'll tell you... this kid gives us run for our money- he climbs the cabinets the second you leave the room and rummages for snacks, his favorite at the moment are raisins and nuts, figs and watermelon, and these raw oat bars that we buy pre made.  (It just dawned on me as I'm typing this that it might serve us well to make him his own down-low snack shelf.) He is very curious and assertive and very very crafty- BUT.  He is also super super loving and sweet. The melt-in-to-you hugs and the kindness and empathy that he displays at just 2 1/2 years old is pretty impressive. But he's also scrappy and thinks he is the boss. It's tough being so little with all these ideas and initiatives and to be constantly redirected and told no.  One thing that is a certain is that this little guy thrives when he is kept busy- and especially when he is outside. We remind ourselves that this little Bear is new here.  We are all relatively new here, if you think about it.  Just trying to figure all these life-customs out as we go.  I know I'm still learning and it's very steep learning curve when little kids' are involved!  That's for sure. 

Happy Mid-week to you.  Hope your life lessons are gentle and kind to you this week.

Tomorrow, I break out from the comfort of my home!

Hodge Podge of Photos + Words

I'm not quite sure where to begin.  To say that I am behind, here, is a bit of an understatement.  There are a number of images that have been piling up in the "to blog" folders that I'd like to share, as well as a number of topics of one-sided-discussion that I've begun to compose a number of times.  We are currently in a very transitional time in our young family life.  The past few months have been full fledged 'open a pizza place' mode, and this week that mode came to its peak when the doors opened, birthing a new business baby, and my husband and his partner are like the breastfeeding mothers of this newborn restaurant babe.

Now, I need to tell you that it is my instinct to want to just unload all kinds of commentary regarding the discomforts and long hours and lack of family time that has been our summer, but I'm not going to do that.   I'm going to resist my urge to complain- something that comes very naturally to me, the act of complaining.   Usually after a good session of focusing on the negative, I feel like shit and guilty because when it comes down to brass tacks- I have found myself living a very charming little life, and the things that I have to complain about... well, they aren't necessarily legitimate.  On the scale of human suffering- what I've got going on here-  my woes pretty much don't even make it to the chart or graph or whatever.  Plus, it seems that when we waller in our misery (in my case phantom-misery) it does nothing for lifting the spirit.

I noticed this the other day when I called my Dad after dropping the kids at their three-mornings-a-week play school program.  My intention was to call him and whine and maybe get a little pep-talk, but instead- we talked about him.  We talked about him pretty exclusively.  The supplements he was about to ingest before heading out the gym for his work out, what kind of coffee he likes to drink, the dermatologist his is seeing, and current events (which as you likely well aware, are quite humbling to say the least.)  I couldn't really get a complaint in edgewise, and you know what?  I felt great for the rest of the day!  Maybe it's just because I really miss my Dad (he lives across the country and we don't visit much) and I have always been a big fan of his so maybe it was just that, but a full hour of not thinking about my 'problems,' and listening was just what I needed.

Which leads me to this little place where I get to recount and share the joy.  I've kept quiet around here recently because I've been a little ashamed of what I've been wanting to write.  Which isn't to say that I'm not venting to a few people here and there.  Well, and my husband gets an ear full at least once a day (followed by an apology call, and reassurance and supportive words and such and such.)  Because there have been long hours and little time to be together- but there's been some.  There's been a lack of vacation and no weekends to speak of- but there will be.  And here and there we sneak in mini-sessions of weekend-like things, and all day everyday- there are moments that I am disarmed by the adorableness of my two boys... and, of course, I capture it when I can.  

***

After wrangling the boys to bed a couple of nights ago, I found myself french mopping the bathroom linoleum surrounding the toilet.  You know, the method where you use wet rags with your feet to do the mopping.  I don't know if that's actually what the technique is called but a lady referred to it as such once and now I do, too.  Because I love culture.  I digress.  Daily pee cleans, along with coffee in the morning are rituals around here.  Whilst working my toes into the corners where the baseboards meet the dreaded poly floor surface, abducting and adducting my leg in a fashion not unlike the New York City Ballet Workout Video I checked out from the library and did the once, I had the craziest thought.  Instead of my usual, "cuss cuss cuss... urine...cuss cuss," I heard myself think, "Well, I sure am grateful for the use of my legs and feet."  I was surprised and pleased with this thinking.  And, can you believe it?  There's so much more...  

I am grateful that we are all well. (after a summer cold that was preceded by a fever virus)

I am grateful that we have everything we need and more.

I am grateful for hot baths in essential oils while the kids are at play school.

I am grateful for coffee dates with girlfriends. (I am so grateful for coffee dates with girlfriends)

I am grateful for this mild summer we have enjoyed.  The rain has been lovely.

I am grateful for chicken eggs (the chicken turds, not so much) 

I am grateful for my eyesight.

I am grateful for my camera.  

I am grateful for clean water.

I am grateful for a supportive community.

I am grateful to be married to a person who accepts my humanity.

So there's that.  There's gratitude, and it seems it's winning, slowly but surely.  

And I think I'll call my Dad more often.

Thanks for checking in.