Going with the flow

Back in September Oliver decided that he was going to start pooping in the potty - and, ever since he decided to do that he has. Since September we have had just one accident (I say accident, but it was calculated - he declared he was going to have a "massive blowout" "just like Henni"). Since September we've had some conversations about peeing in the potty, but they usually ended with Oliver saying "I just love my diapers so much." So I ordered a book and downloaded the three day potty training boot camp. I started reading the guide while pumping in the parking lot at work the other day (ah, the joys of motherhood). Only a couple pages into the boot camp guide I decided that this potty training stuff is serious business, and that Davis and I would need to sit down and mark out three days on the calendar - the guide was clear that we would need three days with nothing - nothing but potty. I decided we'd think about it after our trip (as much as I wanted Oliver out of diapers the idea of a weekend of nothing but potty was not very alluring).

Well, eleven days ago Oliver declared that he didn't want to wear diapers anymore. I had a momentary freak-out - I didn't get past page three in the guide and never read the book! How do I potty train a child?! Well, just like Oliver trained himself to poop in the potty, he trained himself to pee in the potty (and behind the rhododendron in the backyard, and behind the cedar tree at the playground, and behind the rose bush in the neighbor's yard...). Amazingly since he decided to give up his diapers he's had only 5 accidents. Once again I am reminded how much our children teach us, how all the books and guides and craziness are not really necessary, and how going with the flow is really the best approach (and how crazy life is right now - 11 days to document this amazing milestone!).

The Wall

Every parent knows the dreaded Wall (cue scary music)- that is, the point in time when your child goes from a wonderful, happy child who is full of smiles, imagination, play...to a child who can't stand up, is irrational, irritable, unable to play, unable to do much of anything at all. The Wall (scary music again, please), is something that can be avoided - most of the time. However, when a two and a half year old is transitioning (or arguably has transitioned) out of his nap, the Wall sometimes appears rather suddenly, with no apparent warning at all.

The other night both kids were super happy and loving being in (somewhat) matching jammies. Davis ran downstairs to get the camera to snap a picture of their cherub-like faces, when - XZ*%$! - the Wall appeared out of nowhere and by the time he got back upstairs they two kids were melting down in a manner similar to the Fukushima nuclear reactor.

When I got downstairs after getting the wee ones to sleep I found that Davis had sent me this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7cn46HSuHc and had included the following "I think this about sums it up- Green hat, blue hat, oops! Dump truck, block wall, high speed...oops!"

As I said earlier, it is usually possible to avoid hitting the Wall. My day usually involves quite a bit of planing and fancy footwork to make sure that neither Oliver nor Henni crash. Somehow in and amongst everything I forgot about the lesser known Wall - the one that can result in a mommy crashing. Last week that Wall appeared out of nowhere (although some might say it was there, in plain view, I just chose to ignore it). Over the last month I have taken on a number of things - heading back to work, painting class, yoga teacher training, getting myself back to the gym, doing some work at a local yoga studio, and taking on a consulting job. This is in addition to all the wonderful things we moms get to do (20+ loads of laundry a week, pumping, cleaning, grocery shopping...) in addition to our full time job of being a mom. Things got so crazy that we managed to run out of toilet paper, diapers for Oliver, and shampoo and (almost) soap. Dirty and tired I began to realize that I had hit that wall and was probably suffering from some sort of delusion - that I could, and should, do it all. After some consultation with some super smart moms (thank you!) Thursday night I decided to put the yoga teacher training on hold til the fall and not work three jobs (clearly delusional - when is that ever a good idea!?). Saturday morning dawned and I headed off to painting class (where I finished my painting and I am in love with it) and returned home to find flowers, and even more wonderful, that Davis had gone to the grocery store. I exhaled and looked around for my list of things to do - then realized I had been too busy to make a list - I decided that meant nothing had to get done - a free weekend!

USS Albacore

You know how people say there are no stupid questions, well I beg to differ. This past weekend I asked probably the stupid question ever - Do you think I should bring the stroller on our visit to the submarine? Davis gave me a look that said, I am not even going to acknowledge the question. Then we opened the door to the submarine, and even before we climbed through the little (maybe) three by 1.5 foot opening (that was about a foot off the ground) it was clear that I did manage to ask not only the stupidest question, but perhaps the stupidest question ever.

Stupid question out of the way, we had a great time exploring the submarine.

I have decided that there is no way I am going on one - especially not an old one. Seriously, there was one room the size of our downstairs bathroom (really small) that slept 20 people. The bunks were so narrow that think they must have only allowed anorexic seamen to be part of the crew.

(This picture is one of the "luxury suites" - 12 people in a room the size of our bathroom - I couldn't maneuver well enough in the other room to capture the crazy cramped quarters, and couldn't convince Davis or Oliver to try out the beds in the other rooms.)

Seriously though - if you are ever in Portsmouth and looking for an activity, visiting the submarine is worth it - and worth it for people of all ages. I have a feeling we'll be back again soon (and I will be sure to not even bother to throw the stroller in the back of the car).

My four month old (guinea) pig

I think I have created a pediatrician that does not exist (although I am not quite willing to fully admit that as of yet). The pediatrician that Oliver goes to is very nice and has lots of wonderful reviews from parents in our community, but I am just not sure the fit is right for our family. So when Henni was born I decided to test drive a new pediatrician - one that got rave reviews from the midwives. Dr. X, as we'll call him, was incredible. When he left our room at the hospital (after agreeing to sign us out a day early - yea!), I was smitten - he seemed perfect. Because infants have to see the doctor a bazillion times over their first few months I had many opportunities to test Dr. X out. Although I continued to be smitten with him, the 40 minute drive to and from his office and the 30-45 minute waits I usually had before our appointments made me decide that things had to change. I briefly entertained the idea of asking him to leave his thriving practice and open a new one closer to our house, but soon recognized that was a crazy thought. So, on to Dr. Y.

Since Henni is little and has to see the doctor so much, I decided to use her (again) to try a new doctor on for size. We saw Dr. Y on Thursday for Henni's four month appointment. While it is difficult to learn everything I'd like to on a healthy, no questions visit, I do think I like Dr. Y - a key feature is that it took me less than 2 minutes to drive there. Since it will be a few months before either Oliver or Henni has to go back to the doctor I think I'm switching Oliver to Henni's (#2) test doctor. I am otherwise envisioning trying to schedule two different sick visits with two different doctors, two different after hours calls, two different who knows what - if they get sick. Sounds not so fun. Hopefully Dr. Y proves good in the long run and can live up to my Mary Poppins-like vision of a pediatrician - I really hate the idea of doing more testing of doctors on my children.

Dr. Y declared my little (guinea) pig very healthy. She's now 15 pounds 4 ounces and 25 inches long. Again, I am astounded by how fast kids grow. He was also pleased with her tricks and smiles, and with how mad she was when she got her shots - she literally stared them in the eye and yelled - not a yell of pain, but a yell of - "You bastard, we were just smiling together and then you stick me with two needles - that is not, at all, acceptable to me." She yelled for a moment, just to get her point across, and then smiled again (saving all of her post-shot anguish for me that evening (poor thing really gets affected by shots)).

One of Henni's new favorite things is the swing - I think she'd happily stay in the swing all day (the playground one - at home she has no use for something that keeps her contained).

Jacques Cousteau

One of my favorite things to do is to explore. I love heading off and exploring new things and new places. This is something Davis loves to do too - and, thankfully, Oliver and Henni seem to be up for our craziness. I say craziness because it is once in a blue moon that explorations go off hitch-free. But, I think that rolling with the unexpected or halting one adventure (say because the trail chosen turned out to infested with poison ivy and ticks) to begin another (going out for lunch) is a big part of the fun - and my love for exploration.

This past weekend we went to North Andover to explore Ward Reservation. Oliver took control of the map as soon as we got there and directed the way - "Turn left! Turn right! When possible, make a U-turn." In case you were wondering, his directions were given in the accent of an Australian woman. Ok, not really, but I wouldn't be surprised given how much he's picked up from my GPS. Anyway, Oliver proved himself to be a regular Jacques Cousteau albeit quite a bit cuter (in my opinion).

(Alright people, stop your chatter. This is serious business.)

(Here is where we want to go.)

(Daddy, we want to go right here. I keep telling you to turn left. That's because we want to go over here. Not over there. I want to find some snow I can make yellow and it looks like the best snow is over here.)

Our exploration turned out to be a bit shorter than expected (the weather was about 20 degrees colder than we had thought it was supposed to be), but other than that - it went off hitch-free. Probably because of our little and littlest explorers.

With the melting snow, mud, and warmer temperatures - I am looking forward to more explorations, especially those directed by Jacques Cousteau.

Safe

Davis is, thankfully, home from Japan. He arrived home Thursday night - leaving Japan before the big earthquake and tsunami. While he was there he experienced several earthquakes, earthquakes which turned out to be precursors to the big one. We've been getting lots of calls, emails, etc. asking if Davis managed to make it home - I thought I'd post so as to make sure everyone knows he is safe.

This event has, once again, reminded me how precious and precarious life is. And also how random and strange. My brother just returned from two months in Africa - traveling in the not-for-tourist areas. Having been there myself in the not-for-tourist areas I was worried and breathed a huge sigh of relief. When Davis went to Japan I had no concerns - it's Japan.

My thoughts are with those who are in Japan right now and those throughout the world who have friends, family and memories in Japan.

Reliance

Davis is away. Last week when he called from work to tell me that he would have to travel to Japan on Monday I panicked - how would I take care of two kids without him? I envisioned a week of chaos and crying (me and the kids) and also thought the time would slink by, slower than molasses on a cold New England day. I envisioned tales of woe, words of admiration to single parents, and a week that could only be summed up in two words - no fun. Thus far my week has, shockingly, been relaxing, serene even, full of fun - and no tears have yet to be shed (by anyone).

Did I suddenly become super mom overnight? For a moment I entertained that fantasy, but then looked around the confines of our very small shower and noted that, in addition to me, the shower contained Oliver, Henni, Mark the dino, Jordan the snake and two boats - a super mom would certainly be able to shower alone. I then got to thinking - Davis and I very much parent together. In fact, we do pretty much everything together. Because of this, I know that he will be there (and hopefully he knows I will be there for him) when things get rough, or at the end of the day when I am tired, or when I want to shower alone...I guess I have come to think of us as a team, forgetting that I can manage alone. I've been trying to think of a good analogy (because I am not doing a very good job of describing all of this) but haven't yet been able to think of one.

I brought all of this up to a couple other moms today - and it seems like this phenomena is pretty common - that it, when placed in a situation where we have to parent alone, we do it (very well) - but when we know there is someone coming home soon, or in the next room, we kind of let things slide - we let some of the respsonibility, some of the parenting fall to the other person (arguably without either person knowing this is happening which is why the dual parenting thing can often be more chaotic).

All of this being said, we miss Davis and we are ready for him to come home. And the next time he has to go away I am sure that I will, again, be filled with panic. However, I can look back over the past three days (hopefully tomorrow will also prove good and I can look back over the past four days) and know that I can do it - and I can do it well.

(I do also want to add that, although the past few days have been wonderful, I do have to hand it to single parents - parenting alone is hard work.)

And, because no one just wants my babble, here are pictures of the kids -

Here is Oliver driving his car - fashioned (thanks to Davis) out of a diaper box - the car is complete with a pteranodon hood ornament.

Henni, fast asleep in the stroller.


And Henni and Davis' nemisis - my diaper bag. The bag is, admitadly, ridiculosly big and heavy, but it does contain diapers and extra winter clothes for 2, snacks for 4, toys for 2, a Bjorn, and other emergency items. While I do get lots of crap for the bag, I have never had to say "No, I don't have that."

Joy

Henrietta exudes joy. She greets me every morning with the biggest smile one can imagine. The only way that I can describe her smile is that it extends from the tip of each of her ten toes, from the tips of each of her ten fingers, inward, up her arms and legs, into her belly, and up through the crown of her head. I have never seen a smile engulf a body; Henrietta's smile does just that. It is such a wonderful way to start my day. And even more fantastic, Henrietta will give out one of her whole body smiles basically anytime someone looks at her. She has started to pair this smile with a laugh, a deep belly laugh. Between the smile and the laugh she can change my day. If I am started to get grumpy, frustrated, tired...and I give her a snuggle and look her in the eye, she will melt - and so will I.

Another thing about Henni that makes me melt - her rolls. She loves to eat and because of this has developed rolls upon rolls upon rolls. When stripped down to her diaper she resembles a sumo wrestler - a sumo wrestler full of smiles since she loves to be naked.

While Oliver has been incredible with her, over the last week there has been a marked shift in his interactions with her. He suddenly sees her a playmate and someone he needs to look out for. Twice this week he's told his friends that they need to be more gentle with her. He has also started pointing out when I miss a snap on her clothes, when she has drooled or spit up a bit, and gets very upset when she starts to cry. The other day he told me, "Mommy, why don't you start to make dinner, I'll keep on eye on Henni. She won't cry if I'm playing with her." It took everything I had to let the two of them be together with me not at an arms distance away. Oliver was wonderful with her though and actually brought her her toys to play with rather than the large dump trucks and fork lifts and stuff he has typically brought her.

I am guessing this shift is because Henni has moved out of the lumpy baby stage into the - hey, I am person, I'm part of this family, I can do fun tricks now - stage. She is almost sitting by herself - she can manage to sit and play with toys when propped up with the Boppy. She watches and takes in everything - I feel like, for example, that when she decides she wants to paint she is going to walk up to the canvas and paint a masterpiece, when she decides she wants to build a block tower that it will be insanely intricate...she studies everything - especially her big brother Oliver.

This past weekend we went to the aquarium. She's been 2 or 3 times before this visit and slept through each trip. This time she was wide awake the whole trip and loved watching the fish and the penguins - she gave her amazing smiles to any sea creature that would look her way.

Milk and Cigarettes

On Monday, Davis called on his way home from work and Oliver answered the phone. They talked for about five minutes, Oliver telling Davis about the painting he had done, about how he had helped Henni to roll over...then I hear Oliver say "Just milk and cigarettes, thanks." What?! Poor Henni, I stop feeding her so I can grab the phone from Oliver and try to determine where the conversation had gone horribly wrong. It turns out Davis had asked if we needed him to stop and get anything on the way home. Hmmm. When either of us has a rough day we joke about needing to go to the store to get milk and cigarettes - in other words - rough day, heading out, and may or may not come back. After a number of rough days I gave Davis a GPS for his car and a note - "So you can always find your way home after getting those milk and cigarettes."

Now this brings me to the dingbat. Davis tends to call bad drivers dingbats. He mutters this under his breath, but clearly loud enough for Oliver to hear. When either Davis or I stop, brake, or change lanes, Oliver now yells out something like, "Hey, what's that dingbat doin'?" "You dingbat, let my mommy go." Even "better," when Oliver is playing with his cars I often hear him muttering dingbat this or dingbat that. Again, hmmm.

Oliver, once again, has proven that he is ever hearing and ever seeing.

Hard working fashionista

The other day someone came up to me and told me they wished they could be a relaxed parent like me - that they could allow their child to leave the house in whatever it was their child chose. I like to think that the comment was a compliment and not a sneaky way of telling me to get my act together and put a "real" outfit on my kid. The way I look at is that there are battles to take on and other ones that aren't really worth it - the clothing battle is something that I don't consider important. Somehow this topic came up with the CEO of a company on which I was writing a case - the person told me that he and his wife had decided when they had kids that they would only worry about/act on things that would either hurt their child or hurt others. The individual said there were times, especially when his kids were teenagers, when he didn't necessarily like what his kids were doing, but that he and his wife gritted their teeth and stuck by their decision to only step in if someone would get hurt (their child included). I like this philosophy and I am going to try and stick with it.

If nothing else it will provide me, and others, hours of laughs. Check out the outfit Oliver wore the other day: two layers of jammies - one with space ships and the other striped, striped socks, red shoes, and for an accessory - his dog, on a leash. He cruised through Lowe's in his outfit, and later helped install our new microwave.