Hiatus

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toying around somewhere else...

I AM an Oxymoron

One of my favorite ever moments from high school was sitting in Mr. Pardee's Chem class with... Jen? Was it you Jen? Weren't you in honors everything so it couldn't have been you in there with me?

Anyway, Mr. Pardee was one of my three or four most memorable teachers ever. He was funny for one thing. He would routinely go off on tangents every so often that would take the entire class period on purpose for another. I just tried to give examples of what those tangents would be and both of them couldn't be explained with any sort of justice. It was just awesome to be in his class. He would also routinely break into giggles. One of those occurred when he was doing some sort of experiment using rocks and light and described one of the rocks as blackish/whitish. Jen, I swear it was you, I can so hear you laughing not quite out loud saying isn't that an oxymoron? And he laughed so hard in the same manner.

Anyway, I am an oxymoron. I OFTEN feel that way and often feel misunderstood because of it. As in, YES labor hurt like a you know what and I didn't enjoy the pain at all, not even a little. But that doesn't mean that having the babies, and yes including labor, wasn't the most awesome adventure, the coolest challenge, most proud experiences of my life. And YES I can be crazy totally proud that I "pushed" a total, a combined TOTAL of 6 times amidst all my labors for a combined time of probably under five minutes? Does that mean I judge or look down on anyone who pushed for days (JenG you're Superwoman) - NOOOOOOO. But IIII can be proud of my own crazy body can't I? Even if its just genes? It was MY race to run and I'm not comparing with everyone else's race run on a totally different course and terrain.

So, yes I can see why people can think they know one thing about me only to have me tell the story completely different on a different day. Does this make me duplicitous? NOOO, actually it doesn't. A high school friend of mine had this vision of authenticity that the best sort of person was someone who's loved ones would gather at their funeral and everyone would have had the same experience as to who she was. Even then I blanched at that. I'm so different based on who I'm with. I always have been. Am I lying and faking and being inauthentic? No. Different people bring out different things in me. Different people need different things from me. Different situations make me feel different ways. I'm flexible - in every way as it turns out.

So I'm confident. And I'm not. I'm social. And I'm not. I enjoy my cave dwelling. And I enjoy nature. I hate bugs. And I still hate bugs. BUT I find them cool if they aren't going to get near me. I'm not adventurous at all. And yet, if I'm not being pushed, I'll do a lot of what you think I wouldn't.

What I am almost always, is prepared to fight someone pushing me. Which is pretty fascinating considering I don't think I was pushed much as a child. My mom tried VERY hard to push only in the most important areas, not smush me (as in my personality) into the ground. My dad, well hey - he believes VERY strongly in his kids being exactly who they want to be. So apparently what that all did for me was make me pretty possessive of who I am. Strong and proud and a bit suspicious of all you out there poking at me. ;)

At the same time? I'm waiting for the people that love me the very most to be willing to push me - just a bit. When I'm looking over the edge of somewhere I don't want to go. I want the people that love me most to trust me the most to know that actually I do very much want to be able to go *there* (wherever there is) and all I need is a little shove. What does that shove look like? Well, it's not sarcasm (unless it's really good sarcasm). It's not belittling. It's not guilt. It's not doubtful. It's not weak. It's casual, but insistent - they're not even looking at me, but staring off at something else - "Go ahead - you'll do great" and then shove. It's something to do with faith and trust in me. Not me in them. A stranger is much more likely to successfully convince me to do something I don't want to do than a friend. Because the stranger isn't giving me attitude about how I *should* do it but I probably can't because I am crippled in some way.

We used to have family friends who lived in the Pasadena area. We were visiting as a family during a huge rain storm all those years ago. I was still elementary aged and by FAR the youngest of the group. Everyone decided we'd all take a run in the rain. Everyone else had someone their size or near to borrow clothes from I think. Maybe the rest of my family will remember why I was the only one in a bathing suit. A borrowed teenager's bathing suit. Maybe I had had a tizzy about getting my clothes wet - I don't know. But I remember them trying to coax me into doing it and ALL I wanted to do was jump off the stairs and join them, and for the life of me I couldn't.

I was choked with insecurity or SOMETHING. And my mom had to push me. It wasn't the sort I described because hey - I'm sure I just LOOKED like I was having a snit. But inside I remember knowing I was coming off the exact opposite of how I felt and I just couldn't figure out how to express it! In fact, I think I can even now trace it to a very specific misunderstanding. I think I was looking for some sort of reassurance about the bathing suit - and whatever someone said - it wasn't the key I was looking for. I just kept waiting for someone to say what I wanted them to say. I finally did go with them, and it was a lot of fun. But I'll always remember how I had gotten myself in this huge predicament completely "innocently" because I'm sure that happens to kids all the time.

(There is such ATTITUDE in the way they can say something and half the time they don't MEAN to be horribly rude... and they do have to be taught obviously how to express themselves politely, but I hope the times that happens to Abby on a big scale are SLIGHTLY diminished because I remember and maybe I can save her from herself now and again.)

Anyway, I was thinking of all this because of the photography season coming up - but I suppose I'll save that for the next time I blog... which might be next year...

What Finn Doesn't Want me to Say

He's a cupcake, I don't know what to say. A tough, boyish cupcake, it's true - he's interested in cars and how they go - he's interested in exploration and doing ANYthing that Jack is doing. He is uninterested in toys that aren't loud or don't have wheels He walks around - already a veteran walker at 11 months old, with this total confidence - when he looks at you it's with this expression, "I know, I'm the frosting on the cake, you love me, here, I love you too." Then he either runs over to cuddle or makes a quarter turn to follow some path invisible to me.

Don't worry Finn - cupcake doesn't mean you are a pushover. Jack pushes you down casually two times or more a day and you sort of shrug, get back up and plow back in - you might totally adore your big brother but intimidated by him, you are NOT.

He wanders more than either of my other two. As my mom clarifies, he's totally fine to wander off from his caretaker, but he is really offended if his caretaker tries to wander off without him. It's pretty funny - once he's assured that you're sat somewhere and not trying to go anywhere THEN he'll go off searching all the other rooms of the house. He'll check in now and then, looking at you as he passes the hall, give you that "I know, I know, I'm just a blessing to your world."

This extends to being absolutely shocked that someone might say "no" to him, in fact, he thinks you're probably joking. Gives you a sweet tolerant smile and continues about his business. IF in fact you decide to insist that you are actually in charge, Finn gives you a look of frustrated indignation - furrowed brow and all.

standoffish much?

so I can't sleep once again. granted its not very late yet. so i feel the need to focus my mind on something... can't put my finger on what. want to share with anyone? no, not really. write out a journal? no... blog... eh... no, what came to mind on how to feel some sort of closeness with the world was to want to shop. that's just weird.

House of Waffles

Today I was reading yet another post from Jen in which she made me laugh out loud and yet also managed to make me choke up at the thought of her comfy pjs being cut up into the rag pile. And I thought how funny Jen can be, and how goofy. And a part of me who was feeling rather drab in comparison said, 'I can be goofy' which I'm sure a lot of you know.

But it's more than her being funny - what makes her so funny to read is because she is SO open. But not 'demean my husband and kid's sort of open, just very 'this is a real slice of me' sort of open. It's not everything, which I'm lucky enough to be certain of since we are more than internet friends, though seriously, that hardly matters since I can be a lot more friendshippy online than I can at home while changing my children's diapers for the sixth time in two hours. Okay, fine, fine, I admit that there is SOME value of actual face to face friendship time, as I have seen when I am lucky enough to hang out with some of my friends... in reality... without typing... like in actual physical space.

Anyway how I felt ...

Sigh, I suppose this is why. The cutee boys are awake. Which means, wel its all about them, which is fine for now.

Read between the lines this post made sense, i swear.

edited to add: No I know. I don't want to be anyone else or in anyone else's shoes. What I was thinking was how I used to be open and now have a really really hard time with it... and nothing in particular has changed in life that has burned me to the point that that should be the case. And Jen's post made me see the difference in myself very clearly.

And I was going to ponder what changed... but...there were little baby butts to take care of.

9 months & counting

Ha. Made you look.

No, nine months of having a family of FIVE and no picture. I do have the ONE Sarah helped me wrangle out of the kids at Easter which I don't like of ME except when I'm looking away from the camera:



The plan? Try family picture today. Don't tell Steve.




Thanks David!!

Ode to Finn

This kid is a charmer. A sweet deliscious little charmer. He's sitting out on Gramma's balcony right now, making eyes at me while he innocently chews on a leaf. When I yell, "No -ew -ick!" he gets wide-eyed and startled (I couldn't possibly be talking about him), then he laughs, (if I'm talking to him in such a manner, I must be joking) and smiles coyly, and puts another leaf in his mouth.

He's a total adventurer. He wanders around his space like neither of the other two ever did put together. He goes for everything that can't be for him, he vaccuums up everything he finds on the ground - thats NOT food of course - where would be the adventure in eating food?

When I put him to bed without nursing he looks at me with this look. This skeptical, "uh- what do you think you're doing- sigh, really? I don't think you want to do this. Let's think this through together, Mom, huh? Be reasonable, I know you'll see it my way."

He's big on eye contact, big on crawling right on through whatever might be in his path - whether it be person or object or door or step. DOesn't seem to matter how annoyed Jack is that Finn is climbing or shadowing him, Finn just keeps right on. It doesn't seem to be his problem if someone is upset, that's for sure. It can't be that he's slapping Jack in the eye while I'm changing the elder's diaper. No, that can't be it, maybe if he pats harder, that will help.

He's patient and hilarious and a big ole' chunk of lovely awesome baby.

Ode to Abby

The thing that still most amazes me about Abby June is her emotional connection with... everything. From herself, to her family, to her friends, to the characters in her stories.

It's easy to miss her while she's gone. Despite the fact that she tends to have a problem figuring out how to STOP TALKING FOR ONE MOMENT FOR THE LOVE OF ALL CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL.... she is also constantly in tune with Jack and Finn. She loves them despite the fact that their love for her is a tad... well a whollop overwhelming. She doesn't even complain when Finn is literally just grabbing fistfulls of her hair just for the fun of it.

I see where the dangers are going to come in, I do. She's so good with them it's hard not to rely on her. And boy, though they think the sun rises and sets by her, they also expect her to concentrate all her attention on them. They are jealous of her distractions and impatient for her reaction.

Of each of the kids she has the most self-doubt. She cares so deeply about people that it acts as a double edged sword. Obviously the negative is that what people do, how they react to her, matters a lot. But on the other side, she is such a people person she attracts people like crazy.

Before she left for DC to visit Auntie Samantha she said she was worried. She said, "I know you want me to meet new friends in DC and have a fun time, but I think I won't be able to. I think people will see this sad face and not see any happiness." (this all because she was going to miss me).

No matter how much she desperately wants to be anywhere than home with anyone but me, it's not personal ;). And she still needs me to come home to.

Ode to Jack

Jack is currently re-dramatizing the entire plot of "Hero of the Rails" much to the thanks of Gramma being a sucker for Thomas the Train as a set and now to me for rushing to get the play along 'patchwork hiro' train.

I am a new sucker to toys. The thing that I think I realize is - though Abby of course loves presents - she loves and has ALWAYS loved people first. A toy, a game, a set of anything was fine, but soon discarded in favor of a person. Therefore, toys to me - always have felt sort of like a shrug - sure she gets a high at first but there are so few presents that have endured for Abby.

Well Jack, my guy, he's a different kettle of fish all together. He sees a story whether it be book or movie and he wants to live it. In fact, anyone trying to play along just rattles him. Well, he still needs us for the books, but I'm sure we'll be discarded in favor of the book as soon as he can read.

I have video of him recreating scenes from CARS in which Mac drives along and McQueen squeels along a dirt track yelling, "Mac! Mac!" and comes along side to say with a lot of gibberish, "Hey, is me, Queen, Mac, oh no!"

He is just so *serious* about it, these are living breathing stories to him. Even the things that aren't even stories. We watch WipeOut and Jack finds the whole thing very contagious. Not only does he jump around on the floor egging on the contestents, "Run, run, run, run OOOOH!" but he creates his own wipeout zone, one that he is determined NOT to go thru unscathed. He jumps and falls but thats not enough - he jumps and he ricochets off the ottoman then back to the couch then, with a dramatic 'oof' to the floor.

You'd think I'd get used to it, but right now as he makes Gordon and Percy help to hide Hiro and distract Spencer - I just think Jack is amazingly wonderfully fantastic.

And then there's the naps. I think I've probably been too embarrassed to say exactly how incredible Jack's naps have been his ENTIRE life.

When Abby was in pre-school from 9-12 Jack would sleep from 9:45-11:30 then more often than not, fall asleep again on our way home from getting Abby. Giving me total free time while Abby was at school.

Then, when she went to Kindergarten he would sleep from 11-2, once again giving me the chance for peace, or the chance to have time with Finn alone.

He transfers mostly from the car. He has a routine that he accepts, nay, even likes. He is reliable mostly. It's really kept me sane these last two and a half years.

What Am I Ever To Do?

Now that the two things I've been worrying about for the five years we've lived in this house are taken care of? Well, I've worried about a lot of things, but these have been those guilty worries - the plumbing and the roof. Things we weren't excited about doing, things we avoided doing, things that could ultimately hurt us most in the end. And *bing* done.

Who's Mom is on First part 2

are we on Hell?


(sent via chat amongst other things. there was context but barely)

Who's Mom is on First or...

Okay - I need suggestions. I am going to try to start documenting the ever-often-forever mis-communications (um why is spell check tellig me that is wrong?) I have with my mom. And I need a title for them. Who's on first seems a little long - but maybe not. Ideas?

They happen whether we are talking on the phone, on instant messenger or in person. There seems to be no way to stop it. I've instituted a 'simple declarative sentences' plan which I'm sure has helped some - but... sadly not enough.

Okay.

First, a simple one.

I ask my mom is there anything she needs at the store? She tells me hot dogs for sure then continues to list things, but as shes doing this Jack is trying to get her to go upstairs, Finn is upset in the car seat and she's holding Max, it was Max or Bronx anyway... not causing trouble ... but there was another body. As she spoke I kept repeating the list verbally (including the stuff I needed)

I know I heard gold fish and go-gurt. So, me being the awesome over-achiever that I am, got every thing I heard.

I come back with a HUGE thing of rainbow goldfish. Do I expect delight and praise? I do. Do I expect a look of weary disgust when I present it to her? No, I do not. And yet that is what I get.

WHAT?! I ask, you SAID goldfish.

She said she DIDN'T need goldfish.

Oh for crying out loud...


But it's a good illustration. We both do this (Steve can attest to this as it drives him utterly bonkers). We give too much information. Or not enough of the pertinent information. Or too much peripheral information.

AND we both desperately want to be helpful, to give that extra mile, to make you all love us ;). Okay maybe not that. But we really stress about being "good" *insert relationship here*.

Mansion

In an interesting update from my house note before - I just came home after Gladys cleaned and the boys are asleep and Abby is at school. Not to mention I'm slowly slowly getting things that are so often left out put in a place so the house gets cleaner and cleaner as time goes. In these moments, THEN my house feels like a mansion that I adore.

Can I keep it this clean? Nope. I really can't. But I can keep getting better and better and eventually... it'll be ... well, better.

Lucky Gal

Abby had a fabulous time at "The Frog and Toad" with Zoozy & Gramma. Apparently it was outside and awesome in that the kids that were there got to play and play and play before the show. Abby (shock!) made some new friends. It is these advantages to being oldest that make me slightly less guilty about all the disadvantages - (the baby is sleeping, so no we cannot do x y z).

This Old House

fyi this is an incredibly boring blog post so I gave you a cute picture of Jack to look at

You know, we originally bought this house because it was (as Christi described it) a cosmetic fixer to begin with - i.e. we just needed to do a lot of surfacy stuff before we could be established and flourishing in the new house. We knew we couldn't handle a real fixer upper which would imply changing or adding to the floorplan and such. No, with our house it was just plain butt ugly inside. And it's true - the worst of what we could SEE was gone and done within the three week clense and purge before we moved in (which included painting like insane people, getting rid of the carpets and refinishing the floors and most of all just getting all the CRAP left behind OUT - and I should point out that we couldn't have done this without our village of family and friends helping out).

Impressive though that was we knew we needed (or had an inkling) to replace the electrical system, the plumbing (eventually), the heat/air, the asbestos under the kitchen tiles, the possible mold in the garage, updating the bathrooms, replacing the windows, redoing the backyard, the sunroom, the stairs...probably the roof... AND we knew that that there was still a LOT of cosmetic work to do.

Every couple of years we save up enough to do a big project. On the off years we save up energy to do some of the cosmetic work.

Sometimes I look at this house and I'm so proud of how cool looking it is. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed with the cosmetics much less the other stuff.

Certainly one issue with a fixer of any kind is that as soon as something is checked off the list, there is no time to revel in it before the next thing on the list pops up to the top of the priorities and then THAT is all we concentrate on.

We have gotten a LOT done recently. The biggest is the plumbing. That has been a specter over our shoulder for a LONG time. And it felt so validating that the plumbers agreed that we were moments away from a break. Like for once we got something taken care of before it caused extra damage.

Next is the roof. These are the two things that have most plagued my mind because these are the things that aren't just cosmetic. These are the things that mean peace of mind or not. Not that I'm saying camping in the living room anytime it rains hasn't been fun. I've enjoyed it. But I am so very happy to be on the verge of being out from under the need for a new roof. *ha, get it, get it?

Still to do? fix our ceiling after roof done. Hang pictures in most rooms. Windows? I might let the new owners (* and my timeline for this house having new owners is in the double digit years) worry about those. Update the bathrooms? Still not sure we're going to do that either (counting on the original stuff making someone say - oh good, they didn't mess up the original stuff). Some minimal painting? Shower curtain or door for downstairs shower. Cleaning and organizing. Some electrical touchup...

Not much really... not comparitively... this is exciting.

I just felt the need to recap.

NEW NEW NEW

I have a new laptop computer people. It is awesome. Actually, to be honest, to me it's just very very pretty - I'm very aware that the degree to which is is truly awesome will probably never been known to me as it is known to Steve.

Which is sort of similar to the way I saw the LOST finale.

Anyway, this beautiful laptop has ALL the keys of it's keyboard intact.

I have realized over the last ten years or so just how awful I am to buy a present for. I never knew I was awful before I saw Steve trying to be wonderful. And the problem was, once our finances were OUR finances, Steve didn't just have to be a mind reader and get just what I wanted. No, he's probably always got ten or so gifts in his thoughts that I would love and he knows very well that I would love... but... would also just not ever feel good receiving because they are expensive.

Well, I won't say EVER. It's just one of those things. No matter how much Steve is making or I am making for that matter "expensive" to me means $75 and higher. And I'm going to sweat that 75 bucks, believe me. I'm comfortable around 50... for a gift from the love of my life - yup, about 50 bucks feels extravagant but not stressful.

NOW the list of gifts that I'll really really love and really really get a kick out of (besides a words and time... oh how I love them) starts dwindling. After all, if I really really want that dvd when it comes out, we have an entertainment budget to get it. So why wait til my birthday? Yes, I know, I'm awful.

Anyway so what Steve has had to do is listen to me tap my fingers in frustration as I wait and wait and wait for pictures to load on my old laptop, watch me punch angrily at the "d" key and constantly wave off all suggestions of replacing the laptop because I was pretty sure the price tag was above the magic $75.

So the only way he was going to be able to give this to me without it ultimately feeling like I had in some way been to blame (we discuss purchases quite a lot - so if he'd said he was GOING to get me a new computer then I would have discussed us out of it, or if I'd agreed - felt like I had had a hand in it), was to completely go behind my back.

So voila. Here it is, and I'm so thrilled. But I'm MOST thrilled about the WAY he did all that. Because all that matters in the scheme of things. Not always, I don't expect him to have to mindread passed me all the time. But this time, being as it is such a totally selfish gift for me (i.e. it's mine mine mine, no you may not borrow it, no Abby cannot practice her ABCs on it, no Jack cannot watch a movie on it, it's MINE, all MINE)... it was just plain priceless to have the weight of the decision out of my hands.

Anyway, you may have guessed this is my first blog post on the new computer. This is also (and forgive me parents if I'm being an ungrateful forgetful jerk) but I think that this is also my first NEW computer ever that is mine (sensing a theme?)

In other news:
Samantha moved to Washington D.C. today. This sucks for us but is great for her. Bah humbug.
Finn is really really trying to follow the kids now- gates have to be at the ready. He is so ridiculously cute still. I'd show you pictures but I am behind on pictures. I'm very busy which is awesome, but it feels like a whirlwind. And finally we are finally finally finally going to have all the behind the scenes stuff done with this house. Plumbing & Roof are in the cards this year. From then, any home improvement in the budget will basically be cosmetic. Now that is freaking awesome.

I don't want to move anytime soon, despite Abby's impatience, but there is something about knowing that we really can't, with positive heart, put this house on the market as is. There is just something that screams "not going to get top dollar" about a non-cosmetically complete house which ALSO needs a new roof and new plumbing. But really, seriously, we're here to stay for quite a while. We are going to enjoy the lack of stress when it rains, my friends. Yes indeedy.

Need dessert.

I have no choice.

Abby has, for a while now... wanted a new house, a fancy house with stairs (go ahead try to argue with her that her CURRENT house has stairs and see how far it gets you).

Last night on the way home from Gramma's birthday dinner our conversation went something like this (prompted by our talk about Samantha moving across country)

"Momma, when is our house going to get old enough to be too old so we can move into a new one?"

"It's going to be a long long time baby, moving is a seriously big big big deal." (this goes back and forth a bit as I go on and on about money and escrow and packing up houses)

"But I'm not happy in our house, I'm sad all the time in it and I don't sleep too good in it either!"

*insert Mommy taking a deep breath and trying to do active listening since RESPONDING isn't doing any good "You're sad in this house and you don't sleep good?"

"Yeah, and I want something new."

"You want something new?"

"Yes."

*pause as I think, hey this active listening thing does make the responses easier... then Abby cuts in

"So, what's your decision?"

"My decision?"

"Are we moving or not?"

"No, we are not moving."

"Then I guess you have no choice"

"I have no choice?"

"I have no choice... I'm just going to be sad."

"Aww."

"Momma" (big sigh here), "Do you WANT me to be sad all the days of my life in this house?"

"NO I DON"T WANT YOU TO BE SAD ALL THE DAYS of your LIFE" (insert Momma blowing a gasket here) "You know some people work really really really hard to stay in one house their whole lives because they love it so much."

"Yeah, but Momma, we are NOT those people. I am not one of those people. I want something new, that's why I look out a different window every morning. I want a new view, I want new paint, SOMETHING, I want it so bad."

*Momma has a new angle, "Do you ever miss our old house?"

"No, but sometimes I miss Gramma's old house."

"There, see, what if we moved and you missed this house - it would be too late, we couldn't go back."

"Yeah, I might, but then I'd remember how SAD I was in it and I wouldn't care."

The Perfect Day

(without Steve anyway... )

Being a stay at home mom means that in a lot of ways my days are on an endless loop. The same basic things happen every day. Change does happen, usually in such slow motion that by the time a behavior or problem is resolved I've forgotten it needed resolving. It often seems as if a child has just woken up that morning with a whole new behavior, as if someone just magically flipped a switch; when actually its like we're in a constant state of "under construction". Before the switch could be flipped the wall had to be framed, the wires run, the wall boarded, the electricity hooked up, the switch connected, the little plastic plate screwed in...

This is why it's so frustrating when trying to explain to someone how excited I am that some subtle but vital change has been embraced. Like for instance, let's say rather than holding my hand after a nightmare, I insist that the child lets ME hold THEiR hand. Silly sounding huh? But those of you who know KNOW that its an important difference. It's the difference between having to pry your own hand out from the tenuously sleeping death grip of your child and simply gently letting your own grip loosen, then letting go entirely. Just trust me. It's a big and important milestone. Yet the person inevitably asks, well, why didn't you do that in the first place? Because, I explain, trying not to sound crazy or defensive: it wouldn't have worked before. It wouldn't have worked the night before or even a few hours before. Of course I could have insisted from the beginning but it would have been a battle against each other rather than a victory for both. Because I waited we were both ready.

Anyway, while "under construction" so many little interactions during those very similar days feel like the luck of the draw. I can have the exact same rules, enforce them in the same exact way and have drastic differences in the reaction of my kids.

Today, it just seemed like 7 out of 10 of those rolls of the dice were lucky.

Extracting Jack from beloved Gramma's presence was sad, and there was some screaming. But I threw out my arms to welcome in for some condolence and where 100% of the times previous he would have thrown himself on the ground, wanting nothing of my comfort, he hesitated, then walked right into my arms. From there he allowed distraction in the form of Phineas & Ferb.

Abby & Jack wrestled and played for a long time. Several times Jack was a bit too rough with Abby, but she handled it and so I could concentrate on nursing Finn, cleaning a little, making lunch.

Everyone ate, including Finn.

Jack and Abby were having too much fun, so I postponed Jack's nap by a few minutes; just enough time to get Finn sound asleep and down so that when I was putting Jack down, I didn't have to worry about what Finn was up to or if he was going to panic without parental presence.

Finn STAYED asleep after Jack was asleep (Finn's diaper rash has meant more fitful sleep - will probably have to call doc on Monday to see if we need prescription).

Abby and I cuddled on the couch while watching tv - SUCH a long time since she's gotten that sort of relaxed presence from us at a time that shes happened to be in the mood to veg as well.

I fell ASLEEP for at least two episodes. Amazingly necessary.

Jack stayed asleep for long enough that Finn was established in his oatmeal bath before Jack woke up.

Jack and Abby played happily while I let Finn air out and played "words with friends"

I got everyone dressed for church including myself (my hair was a mess, but I knew I'd be stuck in the nursery anyway).

Jack played in the nursery (with me there) with an older boy and a younger boy - there was very little screaming. After a while Jack realized the older boy could teach him some subtleties of one of the car racing toys, so he started paying attention. Granted there were stints in there where Jack was dragging me to the door to go to the car, but distraction worked where it hadn't worked last week. Finn fell fast asleep in one of the nursery worker's arms.

I didn't overeat or over spend at dinner.

The kids went to bed (Finn in my arms)

I got some time to think.

and now..

I am off to bed.

Just a day, but the kind I'm always striving toward - the kind where some small seams were sewn. (and some alliteration used ;)).

How Much of a Culprit

I am sitting here using Steve's laptop for no particular reason and I'm noticing just how I'm not terribly annoyed and stifled and generally cranky.

And I wonder how much my recent lack of interest in online life has to do with real life being too crowded and how much it has to do with missing several keys on my keyboard making it singularly horribly annoying to type anything.

hmmmm.

Jack is NOT a monkey