Bullet List

I can't seem to write a real post these days, so here's a lazy little list of recent family happenings:

--Eli decided to start using his big boy bed rather than the crib, which means that for the first time in almost two years the boys are sleeping in the same room again.

--Now that the nursery is vacant, I'm filling it with baby girl clothes and starting to make some decorating plans. Yes, we might even paint, a first for us.

--Stephen scheduled his hand surgery for next week, March 5th, which also happens to be the day my sister Jenae is due with her second boy!

--I've actually caught Bennett teaching Eli quite a bit lately, from how to put on his shoes or take off his shirt to how to count numbers or put together a puzzle.

--Eli LOVES the little gym class that I take him to every Thursday night (thanks to his aunts' Christmas gift), even if he surprises all the other kids and parents with his high-energy enthusiasm and utter fearlessness.

--I cooked with quinoa for the first time and loved it.

--We've been hosting lots of fun things, like park day potlucks and baby showers and preschool and finger food parties, so our house has been remarkably clean the past month. Sad that it takes having OTHER people come over to get our place looking presentable.

Trapped

Born and raised in Seattle, I'm ashamed to admit that as much as I love the rain and as much as I know the Bay area needs it right now, I think I've had enough. It hasn't even been that long . . . but long enough for a mother of two very active boys to wonder how she can survive too many more days of being stuck inside with them. Now don't get me wrong, there are things about the rain that I still genuinely adore: I love listening to it, love watching it fall, love smelling the air just before and just after it, but I do not love feeling trapped inside my house (unless of course I'm all alone with a good book; in which case, rain away).

The near constant downpour of the past three or four days has made me realize how much of my daily life, even in the winter, revolves around the outdoors and decent weather. A lot of that has to do with having kids who need to exert a lot of energy, energy that I don't have to see or hear as much of when it happens outdoors. They have their friends to play with and I have my friends to talk to, so we're both mutually distracted from the noise, conflict, and boredom that are nearly impossible to escape indoors.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Stop whining and take your kids to the mall!" "Go to the library already!" All viable options and things that we do on occasion, but still not the same as those built-in, weekly activities that you don't have to plan or arrange for, that just happen because you--and some of which your friends--always do them. Walking Monday, Wednesday, Friday; Tuesday park day; Thursday afternoon at the park; play dates in the backyard; taking the boys on their scooters to the produce stand; riding bikes; and so on. More options exist when the sky is clear and the ground is relatively dry.

The Little Birthday that Could

Don't you love it when you go into something expecting it to be not that great, and it turns around and surprises you by being more than great? That's how things went with my birthday last Saturday.

Two days before, I was thinking not much was going to happen because: 1) Stephen was in AZ on a work trip and therefore wouldn't have a chance to plan much by the time he came back, 2) it was pouring rain which meant my Bay area b-day tradition of hitting the beach would surely be dashed, 3) I was feeling crummy and tired from the nasty cold that'd been kicking my butt for weeks, and 4) who really wants to turn 35 anyway?

Little did I know that Stephen, who thanks to six years of sharing February 7th with me knows how I like to celebrate, already had a little something in the works. Let's just say I didn't have to cook a meal, change a diaper, discipline my children, or even feel guilty for taking a three hour nap followed by reading as much of my book as I wanted. Now that's true love. He also arranged a little escape from the boys for the two of us to eat yummy Indian food, which I'd been craving for months, and even yummier pastries from my new favorite bakery. And there were several perfect gifts to boot! Man, I love my man.

My apologies to those of you who called and heard little more than a squeak and whisper on the other end of the line. I was there, just voiceless (dumb cold). And a big thanks to all the gals who braved the pouring rain, opening night and a theater full of sighing women to see a movie with me Friday night!


Chocolate Raspberry Mousse that I can't stop dreaming about


Welcome new family photog, Benito! Not bad for his first time...


Birthday mama with her boys, who love taking cushions off couches


Key Lime Cake from Sugar Butter Flour

The Story of Stephen's Owie

Once upon a time there was a fetching young man named Stephen who loved to play basketball. One day Stephen was playing his beloved sport with some friends when he got a little blister boo-boo on his hand, right between thumb and second finger. Not only was Stephen handsome and athletic, however. His intelligence surpassed that of most basketball players in the land; therefore, he wisely iced and rested his hand until the small owie disappeared.

Months passed and Stephen now found himself showing his romantic sensibilities by taking his lucky wife on an anniversary cruise to Alaska. As loving and agreeable as our young hero was, he agreed to take a kayaking excursion with his adventurous wife and surprised himself by actually enjoying it. All except the little blister that cropped back up in the same spot it had first appeared those many basketball-playing moons ago.

More months passed and the little blister owie persisted on poor Stephen's hand, getting more and more painful with time. All the doctors in the land were perplexed by Stephen's blister and couldn't quite decide just what his boo-boo was. Some thought it was a cyst, others a vascular aneurysm, so it was off to an MRI to determine what was really going on. The MRI results showed a malformation of the blood vessel that basically looked like spaghetti inside his hand.

Brave and valiant as our hero is, Stephen now awaits surgery for what started out as a seemingly innocent basketball boo-boo. Thankfully the procedure should be quick, as should the recovery for his hand, but that doesn't mean we can't learn from this young man's story. Never assume a blister is just a blister, especially when it doesn't go away after a normal amount of time.

Groundhog's Day

Today felt like that Bill Murray movie, only instead of having to relive the same day over and over, I had to relive the same ten-minute elementary school office experience over and over. Because while today IS the ever-important, season-determining holiday of Groundhog's Day, it's also the first day of kindergarten registration for next fall's class of 2023.

I walked in the door to that office thinking I was 100% prepared with my proof-of-address forms, birth certificate, medical forms and shot records. I thought I'd walk in, hand them the forms, and walk out. "Clearly an amateur," is what all of you parents of school-aged kids are thinking.

Here's the scenario I got to repeat four times today:

Walk into the office to be greeted by the same front office receptionist, who the last three times says in a not-so-excited tone, "You're back." I tell the boys to sit down and Eli chooses the seat in front of the window with the blinds, which he proceeds to pull on and play with until the other front desk lady shows up and tells him to stop. He listens to her about as much as he listened to my same pleas to stop touching them. Not at all. I grab Eli to put him on my hip until he violently squirms his way down. Meanwhile, front desk gal #1 is explaining to me the latest fine print detail that I've somehow missed in the mammoth packet of forms and requirements. Eli is now trying to escape outside, and for once I'm grateful for Bennett's bossy, I'm-the-parent persona he uses to block Eli from exiting. I let those two battle it out while I try to convince the front desk gal that I really did change my address with the DMV when we moved a year and half ago, they just refuse to issue a new license for it.

I'm not joking when I say the exact same thing happened every time we went in that office. It was very strange... But Benito IS officially registered to start school on August 27th at 8:15am, although I'm not sure he'll make it in the door with the wheelbarrow of school supplies he's required to bring. "1 ream of Xerox 20 lb. paper" Really? Then there are the "large" boxes of baby wipes, Kleenex, Ziploc gallon and quart size bags, dry erase markers, "large rectangular erasers," not to mention all the normal glue sticks, crayons, and markers. Is this normal? Or is this the Governator's solution to our state's budget crisis? Oh well... kindergarten, here we come!

Seriously sick of sickness

Is anyone else out there sick and tired of being sick and tired? I swear our little family of four has been passing around a cold, cough, or flu for what feels like months, although everything seems to take longer when you're sick... so maybe it's only been weeks. Regardless, I'm fed up. Right when it looks like we're all getting to that happy, healthy place again, one of us picks up some bug and within a week or two we've all taken our turn with it.

When will it end?

Baking Frenzy

Those who know me know that I am not a baker. Baking kind of terrifies me, to be perfectly honest. All those "secrets"--room temperature eggs, perfectly softened butter, precisely-measured flour, parchment paper, etc.--to making just the right cake or cookie add way too much pressure to something I don't do very well. Cooking dinner is more my style because even if you have to substitute ingredients here and there or if you mess up the sauce, somehow it still seems to turn out and taste good.

Another reason I don't bake very often is because I have zero self-control when it comes to home-baked treats, especially if I'm the one who baked them. It's as if all that work gives me license to eat as many pieces of cake as I want. Even after I've eaten so many that I feel ill, the memory of that first yummy bite returns to me the next day, after the sick feeling is forgotten, when the boys are napping and I need an afternoon pick-me-up. This is starting to sound like the confession of a drug addict or something, but you get the idea. No restraint around baked treats in my own house.

Now we come to the point of all this rambling. Last week was ugly. I baked chocolate chip cookies, an apple pie, and sugar cookies within the span of about four days. At first I was happy and proud of myself for actually baking, but then came all that consumption (the boys helped a little, as did Stephen until he happened to get his cholesterol results back and swore off all treats), however, and then the ugly, ugly guilt. The sugar cookies were for YW New Beginnings, but since I only had to bring a few dozen, that meant there was plenty of indulging along the way. The cookies and pie had no such noble purpose, other than my own craving and indulgence.

So for those concerned friends who say I don't "look pregnant yet" or "pregnant enough for 22 weeks," rest assured, the baking frenzy has brought the belly out from hiding. All thanks to Eli's Sesame Street storybook where Cookie Monster has to wait ten minutes while his cookies bake (reading it with him sent me baking immediately after) and stupid National Pie Day that sucked me in with all those internet advertisements and articles I kept bumping into last week about Obama loving apple pie.