Fruit in my dessert

Counting the ways

Seriously. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but thank you for quietly being patient with me - over and over again. Today's topic: window coverings. You listened, looked, and responded to countless "if, then" scenarios over two different sittings in an effort to help me try to figure out which window coverings will be best when you don't really care very much which one gets chosen. And, somehow, you managed to keep a straight face when the final decision was to order several swatches of the version you would not have chosen in the first place. You know what not to say and how to not say it and how to keep me sane while I'm likely driving you insane, but you somehow stick with me, far after I'm done sticking with myself.

And, to cap it off, you suggested and made tea - with just the right amount of honey - for me at the start of our evening and delivered three cookies when I asked for one or two at the end, just because.

Thank you.

Yoga thoughts

So, when I wasn't just "being" during Savasana at the end of yoga class tonight - my first class in months and my first during this pregnancy, I had some time to be alone with my thoughts and here's some of what came to mind:

1. Oh my goodness, there is a baby in there. There is just so much less time as the mom of a toddler to spend thinking about the baby inside. I mean I think about it, as in, I shouldn't eat a tuna sandwich - again, or I wish I could have some coffee, or be careful H, you're kicking me in the belly and there's a baby in there, or my aching back, there's a baby...you get the point. But there's been no being "one" with the baby. Not to say I spent much time meditating or bonding with H in utero, but I think I'd be willing to pay for the yoga classes this time just to spend some time alone with the baby.

2. I should really blog more, maybe about this.

3. I wonder if this is the most comfortable way for me to be laying down.

4. It's probably not sanitary for me to be laying my head down on this blanket.

5. I learned a lot during my last pregnancy (and the first, which ended in an early-ish miscarriage) about the lack of control that comes with parenting and I really think it's helped me be a more calm parent and person. I have no illusions about being in a Zen state as a mother or person (and yes, I know mothers ARE people, but you know what I mean), but I do feel like the roller coaster of my pregnancy with H, with supportive aids from the Hypnobirthing course that I took (but did not fully "use" with my breech-caused-c-section), really put the whole, "you just never know what's going to happen or when or how and you can't do anything about most of it" thing into perspective for me. It's not a new revelation for me, but I've been thinking about it more during this pregnancy. I'm grateful for the early hospital visits, the preterm labor, the hospital stay, the bed rest, and yes, even the c-section. I think in some small way it all helps me be a better mom to H, and hopefully a better person overall. At least some of the time.

6. My back hurts.

He's just not that into you (or rather, me)

I'm sure I've posted about this before...before he had words. Before he could say, "I want mommy go out there," as he steps into the hallway and points toward the living room. It has long been a ritual in our house for B to do the bedtime thing. This started when I was home full-time and counted the minutes until his arrival at the front door, feeling like a 1950s cliche, handing off the baby with more enthusiasm than I thought I could muster. We would take turns of course, and whenever B would travel - which was and is fairly frequently - I would do the whole bedtime thing. And many nights we would share it and use the time to catch up with each other a little as well.

Well, the time has come when post-bath, H tells me to "go out there" so he and daddy can read their story and daddy can put him to bed. We've come close to forcing the issue on a night or two when mommy has needed some H love, but don't get very far before something clicks in my brain telling me that I should be at least partially grateful: for this time to myself and for the relationship H and B have. I have many friends who have the opposite issue where they can't get the child to go with daddy and they feel trapped by that (as would I). When I'm feeling extra insecure I do "blame" it on the fact that B will indulge him more at bedtime than I will in terms of extra moments of interaction before it's time to say goodnight, but I know if that's part of the story, it's likely a small part.

So, here I sit, blogging freely, and I'm grateful, but still a little sad (at least for the moment) that I'm not raising a "momma's boy" as my friend who has the same "issue" said to me the other day. At least for the moment.

Teaching Teachers to Teach

B sent me this interesting op-ed in Sunday's NY Times about what teacher education programs should look like. I am not sure many people would disagree with the premise - I certainly don't - but implementation is the key and there's a lot of there there. Having gone through a teacher preparation program at an institution that definitely looked down its nose at teaching and that got half of this right and half of this wrong, I'm not as hopeful as I want to be at our collective ability and initiative to make this happen and quickly enough. How do we do it? Who is going to step up and take this challenge?

Just words

A couple of weeks ago, we finally succumbed to the pressures of this big, bad city and filled out our first (of one, so far) preschool application for H for next fall. We know we're "behind," we know it might be "too late for the good ones," and we know he might be doomed to a life in public school with all those "other" kids, but we know his mom made it through that way - not here, but that's just a detail, right?

I have been toeing the line between trying to understand how involved in the insane process one needs to be to not totally mess up her kid's educational chances for the rest of his (New York) life, and trying to pretend we can do it here like we would do it anywhere else - plus a few K here and there. I have only three requirements in this whole process: (1) we must not be forced to home school him because he doesn't get in anywhere, and (2) no co-ops. Half or more of the reason I believe preschool is a must for our family is the much needed separation and alleviation of responsibility for us, the parents. (3) This may be obvious, but I want ALL of the adults in the room with him at all times to be CARING, LOVING adults.

Okay, let's face it, you know and I know I have WAY more than three requirements, but if I start talking about educational philosophy and what I think H actually needs (and DOESN'T need) from a preschool experience, I'll have nothing to talk about when we see each other for coffee or dinner, or when I write the book about it. Besides, this post is about the application we filled out.

The one question they asked on the application that required real thought was what words we would use to describe our child. It didn't say how many words, but we went with 12, given the line length and assumed need for detail with brevity. I, of course, made B come up with his own list and it turned out that our first word was the same - the rest were not, so we went with a combination. Here's what we came up with:

curious, energetic, loving, social, observant, funny, brave, resourceful, kind, expressive, creative, thoughtful

It was challenging in a number of overthinking-it kind of ways, but it was also kind of fun.

We did get invited to the open house in January after they received our application, so I guess that means we didn't "fail" the application part, but I'm pretty sure everyone gets invited to the open house.

In the meantime, we're signing up for a "pre-school alternative" (read: not licensed as a preschool, half the cost or so, but still too much) for two mornings a week (2 hours/day) starting in January. And, as with so much of parenting, I'm excited and devastated about this new development.

What's In a Name?

I started a post a couple of months ago about all of Henry's new words and developments and I never finished it and it never got posted, so today, I just post about one word he said right before bed tonight: Henry.

Actually, it was more like Henmy, but it was the first time he said his name. The words are exploding these days, and he can repeat almost anything all of a sudden, including today, when we were buying him pajamas, and I said, "would you like the helicopters or the dinosaur?" expecting him to point at one or the other, and he looked at me and said, "dinosaur." This was surprising on two levels - one, he really likes helicopters and even calls planes "copters" and two, I don't think he's ever seen a dinosaur or heard the word (except for last week at the Natural History Museum). I digress. I've been saying this kid's name to him since birth. He knows his name. He responds to his name - usually, when he's not practicing being a teenager. His friends call him by his name (Henny, Honey, etc.), but he's never said it before. I don't know why I find it so special, but I do. So there it is.

Joy

Many of you never doubted it, even when I did, but it's been a week since we've been back in the City, and I'm filled with joy, pure joy (okay, minus the remaining unpacking and organizing that needs to take place).

Some, just some, of the reasons for my joy:

1. Grilled cheese and chocolate shakes ANY time I want from any one of several nearby places.
2. While we're talking food - so many EASY options - TOO many easy options - that do not include cooking.
3. I went to the grocery store at 6am the other day - it's open ALL the time - and it's small enough for me not to be overwhelmed by the experience.
4. Parks - big ones, little ones, surprising ones, playgrounds, fields, and ALL within blocks.
5. 10 minute commute to the office. And the office and the people. I miss my old people and my old office, but these people and this office are fabulous too.
6. Yankee baseball just a subway ride away - speaking of which, thanks to my MIL we get to go tomorrow night (and thanks to my parents for babysitting) to Yankees/Red Sox and sit very, very close to home plate - closer than I ever have before. I may not be able to sleep tonight.
7. Service with a smile. Just how I remembered it here. People here are friendly when you're friendly.
8. A public transportation system that works fast, well, and logically.
9. How did I get to number 9 and not mention our fabulous new apartment and building and neighbors? It's been an awesome week on all fronts here.
10. One floor living. Glorious.
11. Laundry on the floor - sure, we have to pay for it now with a fancy card, but I don't have to go up and down stairs.
12. I mostly can't hear my neighbors so I'm hoping they mostly can't hear us. I've yet to introduce myself to the people downstairs and given the 6-8am circus we have every morning, I'm a little nervous to do so.
13. Museums -  H and I went to the American Museum of Natural History today courtesy of our new membership from Jay and Jane and it is absolutely delicious, and enormous. I am going to learn so much by talking about all of this stuff with H. Next stop: Central Park Zoo.
14. Friends - I miss my Cambridge/Boston friends terribly, but it is very nice to start to reconnect with friends from here after so long away and I had my first five minute chat with a stranger mom today in an elevator after a free gym class.
15. People. Everywhere. All the time.
16. So far - seemingly LOTS of toddler and stroller friendly locations and people. I guess it's imperative for the tourism this city sees. Not something I paid attention to last time I was here. We also live in a kid-ville neighborhood so that helps.
17. Some new food finds (new to me): Jacques Torres hot chocolate, Shake Shack burger (uptown outpost), multiple gelato locations within blocks.
18. So much easier to narrate my day and talk with H about everything we're seeing and doing, and the places we're going.
19. Fridge on top of the freezer - okay, so that last one is a lucky break with the apt. and not related specifically to NY, but I LOVE it, as I do the ceiling fans and the in-the-wall AC units, and the room darkening window covers that the former owner left for us in the master bedroom.

Okay, that is enough for now. I know it's the honeymoon phase, but I'm hoping it lasts forever. Which is charming of me, don't you think? One more thing...

Thank you, B. Really. Thank you. You knew what you wanted and, as is the case so often, you knew what I wanted too, before I knew it. It's why I have been tearing up in the grocery store, and on the subway, and in the park all week. Because I'm so thankful, and not just for being here, but being here with you, the only one for me, and our specialist of special H. I couldn't feel luckier than I do. Xoxox.

Countdown

So, we are starting to have a solid plan on our final resting place...okay, we won't get much rest there, but I like the dramatic sound of that, morbid as it may be. We will be able to settle in to our permanent home, or as permanent as any home can be (I'm hoping for a 10-year minimum on this place, let's see), very soon. I hesitate to write it down like this, but the anxious girl inside of me kind of needs to do it anyway. We are scheduled to close later this week and move in at the start of next week - on the day of my first business trip since H was born. I have absolutely no anxiety about any of this, nor can anyone tell that I do or do not have said anxiety. I am not nervous about the logistics, about leaving my parents' house, which, despite the occasional rockiness and need to move on, has been somewhat of a respite from the "real world." I have spent quite a bit of time in the La-Z-Boy, time that would have and some might argue (mostly me) should have been spent paying bills, and doing the work that needs to get done to prepare more fully for the move, or even just helping more with the dishes. On a side note, we did finally buy my parents a dish wand, so I have started helping more with the dishes.

I am also not nervous about the move going well and smoothly without me being present (I actually don't think I am too nervous about this beyond worrying that furniture will be placed in places that I don't love, but the beauty of the space is that there aren't many options for furniture placement). I am certainly not nervous about H's well-being doing the move with his daddy and being without me for two long days and a night or the trauma that he might experience in his new home for the first night withOUT his mother. I am pretty sure I am the only one who will be crying - in a hotel in DC.

And, I am not the least bit nervous about actually being settled in NY, being there, finally, after the months - or years - of planning this in my head and I have no fear whatsoever about whether this is the right decision for our family, for me. I'm not nervous about H running and jumping on the floors and making noise to make the neighbors hate us, or living in a smaller space, or having to make new mommy friends that will never be my "first" mommy friends.

On the bright side, all of this "not nervousness" makes me TRULY not nervous about having several meetings with members of Congress (mostly their staff, actually) for my first time while I'm on that business trip. I mean, really, how hard can that be?

saturday with the 'rents

I could get used to this communal living thing. B and I both got to sleep in for a bit while Gramme and Auntie Baba played with H. I came down and was handed a plate of pancakes and turkey bacon to eat in the La-Z-Boy while H played with his choo choos. The boys went to the bank while I joined mom at BJ's to "stock up" on goods and ran into a friend from college - someone I was pretty close with then but never spoke to after - and after a brief familiar hug, we chatted for a few minutes at the deli counter. It was a nice memory to remember. The afternoon was filled with the boys working in the garage and the girls organizing mom's recipes and watching bad TV, including my first "Hoarders" on A&E. Yikes. H got passed around in and out of the house playing ball and trains and eating snack after his nap and we took him for a walk around the block in the misty rain. It was a sort-of communal effort at dinner as well (gramme likes to run the kitchen, but she does let us help with little stuff, and with clean up). Post-dinner, we made beds, B did bath with H, and now it's family movie night with a little He's Just Not That Into You and some computer time.

I'm really starting to get that whole, "It takes a village" thing. For a few weeks anyway.

Thanks, M & D.

Don't forget about me

I want to post. Every day I have so much to write and say. I hate that I don't. About the move we are in the middle of, about the things I will miss and the things and people I miss already, and the things I am so excited about, and anxious about, about what's going on with H and the lists I'm making and the plans and dreams that are forming by the minute, but I get here, almost every night, and I stop and read instead - someone else's blog, the news, or worse, tons and tons of status updates - they have become somewhat of a security blanket or perhaps more like an OCD habit - I have to read through them all before I go to bed. Weird.

Lots of love in my heart, lots of thoughts - scared and excited ones and confusing ones - in my head, lots of dreams at night and interrupted sleep (NOT caused by the toddler).

Soon, the real content will return soon.

xoxox.