Books and Butterflies.

We paid a visit to Bookman's tonight, a local resale store for books, movies, music, games, and some home decor items. I took in a bin of old books, including a few text books from college, as well as a few home decor 'trinkets'. In total, they bought:

2 text books
2 Jodi Picoult novels
1 children's book
1 vase
1 picture frame holder

The other books they didn't buy could have been left there for donation to a prison library, but if the library didn't take them, they would have just been recycled. So we decided to take them with us and donate them to our local library.

We also tossed out two paper butterflies that have been hanging above our TV, which is now placed where the changing table used to be when we first moved in the house. Yup - they had been there for over 3 years! They had a thin film of dust on them but Luca was still sad to see them go.

We also threw out a bag of old balloons from some party long-over, an old plastic table cloth, and a pair of broken flip flops.

Last, we cancelled 3 of our paper bills and set them up for automatic payments, which will save paper that ends up sitting on our counter and then put in a pile somewhere. It also saves me from my bad memory for dates, since now I don't need to remember to pay those bills!

I feel like my YAWYK efforts are slow-going, but I'm happy to be making progress!

Studio Shots.

Darrick's mom really, really wanted a big family picture, so she reserved the date and time 4 weeks in advance so everyone could take time off and be there. The boys, in collared shirts with long sleeves and ties. The girls, in cute tops and heels and lip gloss. The kids, even in a tie (his) and a new dress (hers), looking quite Baby Gap.

And this, my friends, is the list that results from this experience. We're calling this list "Why You Should't Rely on a Department Store Portrait Studio":

1. Because one of you will wear jeans since all your 'nice' pants are not clean, and the 'photographer' won't think to crop them out or put that person in back.

2. Because the studio will actually be one small room the size of my kitchen with, apparently, no air conditioning. And it will be 105 and humid outside....and feel the same inside.

3. Because your kids? They look adorable, but they really, really are not amused by said small, hot room.

4. Because portrait studios don't Photoshop out the sweat beads on your forehead or the drool on your 15 month old's button-down.

5. Because the so-called photographer will fumble with the DLSR she is using, taking 1 shot per pose and never saying 'cheese' or '1, 2, 3' or even 'look this way, assholes' in order to ensure that 8 adults, 2 toddlers, and 1 newborn are all looking toward the camera when the shutter releases.

6. Because after you sweat through 30 minutes of pictures and change into the 'just for fun, we only need 1 or 2 shots in these clothes' clothes, so-called photographers boss will come in and inform you the flash has not worked and all the sweat and smiles and juggling sleepy kids was for naught.

7. Because your Mother-In-Law, bless her, will refrain from beating the SCP about the neck and head with  a mini chaise lounge designed for kids, and instead will say, "Just take as many as you can get in these outfits." And so your formal family picture will end up being a group shot of 8 adults, 2 toddlers, and 1 newborn in jeans and tie-dye.

I promise, if I get a digital copy of these pictures I am going to share. Because, really, it's too mind-bogglingly ridiculous not to.

Hold It Near, As It Were Your Own.

if my words did glow

with the gold of sunshine

and my tunes

were played

on the harp, unstrung

would you hear my voice

come through the music

would you hold it near

as it were your own

Bare feet on the carpet in his bedroom, I hold him up with my arms and my words as I sing this to him.

ripple in still water

when there is no pebble tossed

nor wind to blow

For three nights now, this has been our routine. A hesitant one, at first, as it feels foreign to me. On the first night, I assumed it a fluke. Not since he was a small baby has Rohan wanted to be held and rocked into dreams. Many hours were spent on my beloved yoga ball, bouncing and shushing and cuddling and kissing fat little fingers when he was a newborn. But then he got a little older, learned how to roll, and decided he didn't want to be rocked or shushed; he wanted to be put down with his Bop and his blankie and left alone to fall blissfully to sleep.

there is a road

no simple highway

between the dawn and the dark of night

and if you go

no one may follow

that path is for

your steps alone

And so this has been our routine. Diaper. Jammies. Milk. Kiss. Cuddle. Blankie. Bed. Door. And then sweet silence of slumber until morning time. He hasn't been into co-sleeping since he learned to roll over. He does things his way. He leads us, and not the other way around.

you who choose to lead must follow

but if you fall, you fall alone

I haven't figured out what's going on, but the past three nights the 'put in crib and shut the door' routine has been loudly protested. Not just a whine and a moan, but a screeching cry. And when I open the door and go back in (which I always do - we're not a cry it out household), his little face is red and soaked in hot tears, and he reaches for me and says "Up?" The few times I've tried to just give him his Bop back and encourage him to lay back down, he stands in the crib and reaches over the railing, buries his head into my belly and wraps his arms tight around me.

if you should stand, then who's to guide you

if i knew the way, i would take you home

I lift him, all 28 pounds of clammy-skinned boy, into my arms. He wraps his legs around me, buries his head into my shoulder so that I can burrow my face into his soft blonde hair, and he grabs at me with his strong little hands. As I begin to dance with him, he taps his fingers lightly on the back of my arm; we create our own rhythm together up there, the sounds of Darrick and Luca reading bedtime books climbing up the stairs.
 

reach out your hand

if your cup be empty

if your cup is full, may it be again

 
And there we dance, just the two of us enraptured with each other. I sing the first song that comes to me, soft and light, and it's always this one. For some reason, it's the one that comes to me as I dance with my son, and it's the song that sends him into dreams the fastest. I feel his body as it grows heavier, pulled to the earth with sleep. His fingers stop tapping and his arms sink to his sides, and I put him down gently in his crib. Never wishing this new routine away. Not even for a moment. How could I, when his body is so warm and his hair is so soft and his smell intoxicates me in a way only a mom could understand?
 

it's a hand me down

the thoughts are broken

perhaps they're better left unsung

i don't know

don't really care

let there be songs

to fill the air

The Road.

For work I often travel within Arizona. Today I kicked off the short work week with a road trip to Green Valley, a small town between Tucson and Nogales in southern Arizona. Despite the fact I was 15 minutes late after driving 18 miles one way in the wrong direction and the fact I was greeted by 12 surly seniors, I kind of enjoyed the road trip. I'm a native in Arizona and yet there are many parts of the state I've never seen, so I actually like getting to see new cities and towns. On top of that, I know a lot of people think that as a working parent I get a lot of 'alone' or 'me' time, but that's just not true. My 'alone' time is in the car during rush hour, and my 'me' time is after everyone else is in bed. It doesn't add up to much when you figure I'm up at 5:30 every morning, home about 5:30 in the evening, and pretty much every second up to 8:30 or 9:00 when Luca goes to bed is consumed by work, returning phone calls, dealing with traffic, and family stuff. I love it - don't get me wrong - but these day trips for work are really an escape for me. I can stop for coffee in the morning, eat lunch at some place I've never been before, listen to anything I want on the radio, talk to myself, stop for an ice cream cone on the way home. I have even been known to stop on my way home to check out a neighborhood in an unfamiliar city or shop for something for myself that I haven't had the time or energy to shop for prior.

In short, even if I'm driving to an armpit town in nowhere-ville to speak to 12 semi-catatonic geriatrics, I enjoy the freedom.

Kitchen Clean Up

I spent naptime yesterday cleaning our kitchen. A few weeks ago, I spent a few hours emptying, organizing, and cataloging the items in our pantry, fridge, and freezer. I even went so far as to make inventory lists of what was in each so that meal planning and grocery shopping would be easier. But I hadn't tackled the real cleaning that needed to be done because I didn't want to spend all day in there.

So yesterday it was. I started by clearing all the counters and running a load of dishes. Then I rearranged some of the countertop 'stuff', including the toaster oven, knife block, coffee maker, and microwave. Our kitchen suffers from lack of useable counter space, so my goal was to make 'work stations' that would make it more convenient to do things like prep veggies and keep sharp knives out of little hands that now know how to drag over a chair and grab at things in close range. I also wanted to get rid of some junk that was just taking up space, including cleaning out 3 (not 1...not 2...but THREE) bowls that should hold fruit and instead were holding...um...everything but fruit?

I'm happy with the results, but the long-term solution to our kitchen woes is a complete remodel of some sort. We have very little storage space, very little counter space, and hardly enough room for two adults and the two kids who seem to always want to tag along in our little kitchen. Among the changes high on my list:

- Get a microwave that goes above the oven, in stainless finish to match the fridge and dishwasher
- Get a new oven in stainless
- Paint the walls and/or put in backsplash for some color
- Refinish cupboards
- New countertops (I'm leaning toward wood, or finding a way to refinish our laminate)

In my dream world we would knock out our side wall and push it out about 10 feet, add a powder room, and rearrange the counters so that we had an island. But since we don't have a spare $40k sitting around waiting to be spent, that dream will have to be put on hold for the time being.

I also added some things to my YAWYK running tally:

- 3 pacifiers Rohan never liked
- 1 old candle
- 1 can Dermaplast (we keep meds on top of the fridge so the kids can't get them, and it was there)
- 3 empty medication bottles
- 1 old baby toothbrush
- 2 boxes of rice cereal
- 5 plastic storage containers with no matching lid
- 5 dried up tubes of kids' paint
- 6 chewed up crayons
- 1 big stack of junk mail
- 1/2 a package of breast milk storage bags
- 7 storage container lids with no match

Here are some after pictures of the kitchen. You can see how small and cramped it is, and if you look closely you'll even spot some warping and staining of the laminate counters.

The coffee maker was moved here, where the microwave used to sit. Next to it are the cappucino cups and saucers and a relly old stand mixer I adore, handed down from Darrick's Grandma.

Microwave in the corner. I am dying to replace this with an oven-hood microwave in stainless steel. This one stops working if you use it for more than 10 minutes continuously.

 

Toaster oven, which used to be where the microwave now sits. Note the lovely pinkish laminate with its stains, warping, and generally hideousness.

Wall by the window, which I'd love to knock out for the aforementioned powder room/kitchen remodel. Until then, I'm dreaming of a turqouise wall, and I have just the decor for it. Now to convince my husband....

See how cute?

Inside of the pantry, with our calendar and the inventory list hidden out of sight.

Two Years Ago Today.

July 4, 2008. I woke to a thin film of nausea covering my body. Rolling over in bed, I realized the sun was streaming hot through our bathroom window and pooling on the floor by my bed. I also noticed, rolling over, that my stomach seemed to do two or three extra rolls, then spin to an uneasy stop. "Unnng," I groaned. "What?" Darrick asked.

"I just feel so nauseous."
"Go take a test."

So I did. And before I even took the test I just knew I would be seeing two lines. We were cautiously giddy. Ready for a second kid, but in a tough spell in life and both probably wishing it would take a few months longer. That's the bare truth, and yet seems so silly to me now. But I was scared we'd decided to have second too soon. And then there was the torture of going about our normal day and pretending things were...well...normal. We went to a Fourth of July party where I pretended to drink alochol-laden punch and avoided eye contact with good friends I was dying to spill the news to.

The week went by and we made contacts with midwives and I nervously fretted over how to share the news with my boss, when to tell family and friends, and how I would manage with two. I was so nervous over a toddler and a newborn at the same time. I had no idea how I would manage...if we could manage.

Two years later, and I simply cannot get over how lucky I feel, and how right our family feels with Rohan in it. I have never met a boy whose face radiates such joy and pure love the way his does. I look at him and I can't help but smile. He's not always perfect. He throws a mean temper tantrum for a boy of only 15 months. He has been known to hit and steal toys from other kids. And he definitely was not the easiest baby on the block. But he's so full of love and joy and life and nothing gets this kid down it seems. I always wondered how I would feel about having a son once I was already a mom to a girl, and I now know the answer: like the luckiest mom in the world.

All photos courtest of Canyon Photography.