(no subject)
Received a little nudge from conservativeme. :D I love those nudges. Thank you, Teresa, for making me feel missed!
We drove Dave to the airport this morning. He's flying out, as I type, to Montreal with his two brothers. They'll rent a car and drive down to NYC for three days. What a blast! And I'm alone for six days. But I can do it, right? I'll be counting the sleeps. I'm already going slightly mad as Dave has had to work like crazy in order to be able to leave; he doesn't have vacation pay so it is necessary for him to make up the days. I really hope he has fun.
The last few days have been busy. Dave has been requesting a Life Aquatic hat for a year now. I started one two nights ago and stayed up knitting it until five-thirty AM; I finished it last night at around two-thirty. I can only knit at night due to lack of time so I feel pretty good about finishing a near-perfect product in about seven hours. I learned to knit in the round. And I only twisted one stitch.
I finished reading The World According to Garp by John Irving in this last week. What a beautiful and horrifying novel. I'm profoundly...different after a read like that. One fabulous change is that I feel full to bursting with words. I just want to hide in a hole and write, write, write. My expectations have changed with reading that book, as well. I no longer feel as though I have to have a perfect, finished product every time I sit down and pick up a pen. My perfectionism keeps me from doing what I love best - just expressing myself with words. It will be good to practice as my once-perfect grammar and spelling have suffered with lack of use, not to mention my ability to craft words.
It seems to be a mentally rich time for me. I am glad for this. I have been learning little things lately. They've been little but deep. I was watching a show yesterday. A psychologist was addressing the problem of feeling like a bad mother. I feel like that all the time because I lose my temper and snap at the boys, or I don't like fielding questions all day, or I mutter, "Calgon, take me away" at pretty inappropriate times. And when I shout, or grab an arm too forcefully? That racks up a whole day of unmitigated guilt. This doctor said something that caused a near-palpable shift in my thinking. You shouldn't try to be a perfect mom. Just try to be an excellent mom.. It is funny how changing one word can lift a load off my shoulders. I suffer a lot of anxiety in that one area, but now I feel permission, with the changing of one little word, to be relieved of that. I can strive for excellence. I'll fall short sometimes, but at least it won't be on an hourly basis. :)
In slightly scary (for me, especially as a Mary Kay consultant) news - I turned twenty-five and suddenly have my first age spot. I'm pretty sure it isn't just a cluster of freckles, but what the heck? I wear sunscreen daily, I use fabulous skin care, I take care of my face. Yargh. I'm not afraid of looking old, but I am afraid of looking ugly. :P
Graham's third birthday was on the eighth. That is a funny word, eighth. It was wonderful - we went to my parents' house and had thanksgiving dinner. Graham opened his gift after dinner. He had found most of them in our bedroom after Caleb decided it would be in Graham's best interest to know where they were hidden. He was pretty excited about his big fire truck. Every time we asked what he wanted for his birthday ("What else do you want for your birthday, Graham?") he responded, "A BIG fire truck!" And what else, besides the fire truck? "A BIG fire truck!" We know! Is there anything ELSE you would like? "Um, a BIG PUZZLE of a fire truck!"
He finished off our gifts and opened the one from my dad. It was one of those perfect moments you wish you had taped, but didn't, and will try to recreate using your own lispless, adult voice for a couple weeks afterwards. Oh, it was so funny. He excitedly started tearing the gift wrap off the present. He threw back his head and in tones of the most sincere excitement (with a lisp!) you've ever heard, "WOW! IT'S A BOX!" Followed by much excited laughter. He's happy with a gift, any gift! Wrap up an old box and Graham will show the same excitement as with the BIG fire truck he's been requesting for a month and a half. We all laughed so hard we were crying and my dad kept repeating it all night. One of those precious, sweet moments. LOVE IT.
It is as though Graham, as a three-year-old, suddenly has permission to learn his colours. He is, um, distracted by nature (he is Dave's Mini Me in personality, right down to the shyness and fabulous jokes/sense of humor) and incredibly hard to teach. He can correctly identify brown, yellow, black, white, and red. Three weeks ago everything but black and white would be blue, or green, or red, depending on the the day. He seems so much more independent now that he can hold up two fingers, or four, and say proudly, "I'm fwee ye-ahth owde!" This proclamation is always followed by growly bear laughter.
Owen has been truly crawling for three weeks now. How exciting! On Graham's birthday he learned to pull himself to standing and to climb stairs. Going down stairs is another matter as he has no concept of gravity or its effects. He is quite happy to tumble face-first down any flight of stairs. We have only tested this theory on a set of three stairs. I had a vise-like grip on his fat thighs.
Speaking of fat thighs! I'm taking domperidone to increase my milk supply because Owen is still nursing like, well, a baby and I just wasn't making enough. Now he makes a sloshing noise whenever I nurse him and he is starting to look like he's wearing pants made of fat on his legs. You know how jogging pants cinch in at the ankles? His fat looks that way. He still has ankles, but he is developing a slight line that separates his thin ankles (and meaty, meaty feet) from his FatCalves. No matter how chubby my children get they never have cankles. There is always a rather definite ankle just below that fat leg.
Oh, and? We're probably going to make a couple Purchases in the next few months. A Dodge Caravan and possibly a new computer if we save up for it. I made the hugest mistake by going into the Apple store here in town. I fell in love with the 24-inch iMac and I want it now. I just kept touching it. It is a real toss-up for us now; we either spend that amount of money on a slightly faster system that is better with games and don't have to re-purchase all of my Sims 2 installments, or we buy the iMac and won't have to worry about it being buggy and a piece of crap. We may go Dell for the ease of transferring our programs but I'm having a hard time with it because at heart I'm a Mac girl. Oh, it is lovely.
Off to tackle Day One without Dave. In a moment of Extreme Wussiness I cried a bit when we said goodbye. Graham cried a lot, but he is fwee. It's to be expected.
We drove Dave to the airport this morning. He's flying out, as I type, to Montreal with his two brothers. They'll rent a car and drive down to NYC for three days. What a blast! And I'm alone for six days. But I can do it, right? I'll be counting the sleeps. I'm already going slightly mad as Dave has had to work like crazy in order to be able to leave; he doesn't have vacation pay so it is necessary for him to make up the days. I really hope he has fun.
The last few days have been busy. Dave has been requesting a Life Aquatic hat for a year now. I started one two nights ago and stayed up knitting it until five-thirty AM; I finished it last night at around two-thirty. I can only knit at night due to lack of time so I feel pretty good about finishing a near-perfect product in about seven hours. I learned to knit in the round. And I only twisted one stitch.
I finished reading The World According to Garp by John Irving in this last week. What a beautiful and horrifying novel. I'm profoundly...different after a read like that. One fabulous change is that I feel full to bursting with words. I just want to hide in a hole and write, write, write. My expectations have changed with reading that book, as well. I no longer feel as though I have to have a perfect, finished product every time I sit down and pick up a pen. My perfectionism keeps me from doing what I love best - just expressing myself with words. It will be good to practice as my once-perfect grammar and spelling have suffered with lack of use, not to mention my ability to craft words.
It seems to be a mentally rich time for me. I am glad for this. I have been learning little things lately. They've been little but deep. I was watching a show yesterday. A psychologist was addressing the problem of feeling like a bad mother. I feel like that all the time because I lose my temper and snap at the boys, or I don't like fielding questions all day, or I mutter, "Calgon, take me away" at pretty inappropriate times. And when I shout, or grab an arm too forcefully? That racks up a whole day of unmitigated guilt. This doctor said something that caused a near-palpable shift in my thinking. You shouldn't try to be a perfect mom. Just try to be an excellent mom.. It is funny how changing one word can lift a load off my shoulders. I suffer a lot of anxiety in that one area, but now I feel permission, with the changing of one little word, to be relieved of that. I can strive for excellence. I'll fall short sometimes, but at least it won't be on an hourly basis. :)
In slightly scary (for me, especially as a Mary Kay consultant) news - I turned twenty-five and suddenly have my first age spot. I'm pretty sure it isn't just a cluster of freckles, but what the heck? I wear sunscreen daily, I use fabulous skin care, I take care of my face. Yargh. I'm not afraid of looking old, but I am afraid of looking ugly. :P
Graham's third birthday was on the eighth. That is a funny word, eighth. It was wonderful - we went to my parents' house and had thanksgiving dinner. Graham opened his gift after dinner. He had found most of them in our bedroom after Caleb decided it would be in Graham's best interest to know where they were hidden. He was pretty excited about his big fire truck. Every time we asked what he wanted for his birthday ("What else do you want for your birthday, Graham?") he responded, "A BIG fire truck!" And what else, besides the fire truck? "A BIG fire truck!" We know! Is there anything ELSE you would like? "Um, a BIG PUZZLE of a fire truck!"
He finished off our gifts and opened the one from my dad. It was one of those perfect moments you wish you had taped, but didn't, and will try to recreate using your own lispless, adult voice for a couple weeks afterwards. Oh, it was so funny. He excitedly started tearing the gift wrap off the present. He threw back his head and in tones of the most sincere excitement (with a lisp!) you've ever heard, "WOW! IT'S A BOX!" Followed by much excited laughter. He's happy with a gift, any gift! Wrap up an old box and Graham will show the same excitement as with the BIG fire truck he's been requesting for a month and a half. We all laughed so hard we were crying and my dad kept repeating it all night. One of those precious, sweet moments. LOVE IT.
It is as though Graham, as a three-year-old, suddenly has permission to learn his colours. He is, um, distracted by nature (he is Dave's Mini Me in personality, right down to the shyness and fabulous jokes/sense of humor) and incredibly hard to teach. He can correctly identify brown, yellow, black, white, and red. Three weeks ago everything but black and white would be blue, or green, or red, depending on the the day. He seems so much more independent now that he can hold up two fingers, or four, and say proudly, "I'm fwee ye-ahth owde!" This proclamation is always followed by growly bear laughter.
Owen has been truly crawling for three weeks now. How exciting! On Graham's birthday he learned to pull himself to standing and to climb stairs. Going down stairs is another matter as he has no concept of gravity or its effects. He is quite happy to tumble face-first down any flight of stairs. We have only tested this theory on a set of three stairs. I had a vise-like grip on his fat thighs.
Speaking of fat thighs! I'm taking domperidone to increase my milk supply because Owen is still nursing like, well, a baby and I just wasn't making enough. Now he makes a sloshing noise whenever I nurse him and he is starting to look like he's wearing pants made of fat on his legs. You know how jogging pants cinch in at the ankles? His fat looks that way. He still has ankles, but he is developing a slight line that separates his thin ankles (and meaty, meaty feet) from his FatCalves. No matter how chubby my children get they never have cankles. There is always a rather definite ankle just below that fat leg.
Oh, and? We're probably going to make a couple Purchases in the next few months. A Dodge Caravan and possibly a new computer if we save up for it. I made the hugest mistake by going into the Apple store here in town. I fell in love with the 24-inch iMac and I want it now. I just kept touching it. It is a real toss-up for us now; we either spend that amount of money on a slightly faster system that is better with games and don't have to re-purchase all of my Sims 2 installments, or we buy the iMac and won't have to worry about it being buggy and a piece of crap. We may go Dell for the ease of transferring our programs but I'm having a hard time with it because at heart I'm a Mac girl. Oh, it is lovely.
Off to tackle Day One without Dave. In a moment of Extreme Wussiness I cried a bit when we said goodbye. Graham cried a lot, but he is fwee. It's to be expected.