Let's ride!!

I really thought we were onward to February after the last post, but I can't help myself but to write one more for January.

I can't help myself because yesterday I was in my glory as my dad, my brother, two of my nieces, and all four members of my family loaded our sleds into our cars and headed to the most awesome sled riding hill around...the same exact one that I went sled riding on when I was a child.

It took about an hour to get enough layers on four people for the occasion and to get out the door, but the next hour or so was pure bliss.  I rode with Cortlan on my lap and John with Everly on his for the first trip down the hill.  Then we switched it up.  Seeing his brave five-year-old cousin head down the hill by herself, Cort soon followed suit and made his first solo trip (with me on another sled following close behind).  He was a trooper, climbing back up the substantial hill by himself after every run.  He was loving it all as much as I was and was having a ton of fun. 

Everly's reaction was a bit tougher to gauge.  She resisted a bit to going down the hill, but at the bottom of the hill (with melting snow all over her face), she admitted to having fun when asked.  But when asked if she wanted to do it again, she said, "No.  All non (done)!"  We did get her to go down a few more times, but she was most content sitting and watching, never complaining, as the rest of us (minus one adult who stayed behind with Ev) laughed and hollered as we enjoyed the ride.

The view down the hill from the top.  What a ride!

These days...

So I haven't written in a little while because I was seriously waiting for someone to comment on my last post and give me all the secrets to balancing life.

Ok, not really.

I have just been busy...balancing.

After the insaneness that is November and December and concludes with Cortlan's birthday in January, things are finally calming down.  Well, sort of.  I mean, right now, I am typing this while chaperoning an event with the Actors' Society for which I had to spend the night at the school.  Yes.  I slept on the floor of the auditorium last night with fifteen teenagers.  Well, maybe that is an exaggeration.  I slept on an air mattress on the floor of the auditorium with fifteen teenagers.  I will eventually make it home at about 11pm tonight.  (A quick shout out to my wonderful and supportive husband who is home taking care of the kids and will bring them here to visit me after their nap today.)

But just to catch upp a little bit, here is what has been going on these days:

• I got a student teacher, which is giving me a new and refreshing perspective exactly when I needed it most.
• We booked our summer vacation to the beach, which I have found is the very best thing to do when there is snow falling down outside, adding to the inches that have been on the ground for weeks now.
• I got my motivation to run back just in time for our treadmill to go out of commission.
• We are enjoying another amazing run as Steelers fans and are planning to cook the "Christmas turkey that never thawed" on Super Bowl Sunday.  (If it isn't going to be a Christmas turkey, it might as well be a Super Bowl turkey, right?) 
• Everly is growing up at a suddenly alarming rate.  She is peeing on the potty a couple of times a day, at least.  She is taking off her own clothes (something that Cortlan was always weirdly resistant to doing) and picking out the ones that she wants to wear.  She is playing with her Snap 'n Style dolls like a big girl, dressing them and undressing them, brushing their hair.  She is playing with her blocks, building towers that are totally unstructurally sound and then transforming into Ev-zilla as she knocks them down with a belly laugh.  She is playing with anything that Cortlan plays with because she adores him like no other.  And she is saying the cutest things, like, "Daddy's home!" and "Here you go, Mommy! (Hee doh, Mommy)" and "Tah-dah!!"  Oh, and she blames all her "toots" on Cortlan.

• Cortlan is finding his groove as a four-year-old.  He has moved on to the big boy sized Legos, but still enjoys building garages for his cars with the Mega Blocks in his sister's room. He posed like a GQ model at his latest photo session.  I couldn't help but to laugh as he happily moved into whatever position he was instructed and smiled a surprisingly natural smile.  He is talking "bad guys" and "good guys" and superheroes, like the boys with big brothers that are in his class.  But his favorite color is still pink.  And he said he wants to get his sister flowers for her birthday. 

Onward to February, I suppose.  Time is passing by so quickly.

Secrets? Not really.

I sometimes share my posts on Facebook with some friends.  When I shared the last one, one of my friends commented about not knowing how full-time working moms do it without going completely insane.  Another expressed her concern for not being able to balance things once she goes back to work after a long maternity leave during which she had two children.  She asked me to share my secrets.

I have been thinking about these comments.  Because first, I do often go completely insane.  No joke.  And second, if there are secrets, I would like to know them, too!!  I mean, why hasn't some one filled me in on the secrets??

But the comments also got me wondering how I do do it.  The reality is, there are definitely times that it is easier than others.  And there are definitely times when I flat out have too much on my plate.  But even some of the average weeks go more smoothly than others, and I was trying to figure out why, and whether I do have anything worth sharing with my soon-to-be-a-working-mom-of-two friend. 

I came up with a couple of things.  And here I will begin a new installment on the blog, in the hopes that someone...anyone...will share their secrets with me, too.  Because, honestly, I ain't got much.  But what I have, I will share.  Take it for what it is worth:

Secret #1:  Plan like it is a chore.

As much as I like to be in control and know what is coming and have things planned, to be honest, I really do not like the process of planning.  I would much rather clean the toilet.  There are just too many decisions and details to consider, and it takes interrupted time and concentration to work it all out (to plan, that is, not to clean the toilet).  But when I do take the time, things definitely go much more smoothly.  I make way fewer trips to the grocery store, I spend way less time in the kitchen, my house is cleaner, and I spend more time with my kids.  I probably save more money, too.

There are things that need to be done during the week.  You know - you probably vacuum at least once.  You must do laundry.  You most likely have to get to the store.  And you definitely need to eat.  Also on that list should be the chore of planning.

For example, when I plan my meals for the week, things go much more smoothly.  The idea is this:  Decide what you are going to eat on each day of the week, figure out all of the ingredients, and make ONE trip to the store to make sure you have it all.  I can't tell you the number if times I have run to the store for an ingredient or two...And then the next day realize we are out of milk, so I run to the store again...Only to find two days later that there are no bananas in the house and I have to go back out.  Those were the weeks when I didn't get to the planning on my to-do list.  SO much time and energy wasted, not to mention the end result generally being not-as-healthy meals.  And a very irritated me.  Trust me, the effort it takes to meal plan is well worth it.  (Now, if I can remember to do it more often...)

The planning can go well beyond the meals to days that you will do certain chores, laundry, exercise.  Some people may go so far as planning free time.  But I won't bore you with all of that.  The meals are a biggie though.  Which leads me to...

Secret # 2: Leftovers

Though I would have never agreed to this as a child, as CEO of my household, I can tell you there is nothing better than leftovers:  a meal already prepared for you that you don't have to leave the house for or pay too much money on.  So do yourself a huge favor -  when you are planning those meals (see Secret #1), pick a day when you have more time and make a larger meal so that another day of the week, when you may have a little less time, you can just throw those leftovers in the microwave and not have to waste a single unnecessary moment in the kitchen.

I know that many of you, with kids, without kids, working and not working also have the things you do to balance your life and make it work for you.  Please help us all and share your secrets!!!  How do you make it work without going totally insane?

Snow Day

I am a mom.  And I am a full-time high school physics teacher.  And I am a wife. 

Not that what I do is harder than what anyone else does, but being those things takes a whole heck of a lot of time. 

On a daily basis, I focus my energy, trying to accomplish as much as I can while maintaining some sort of balance.  The laundry gets done, the house stays in manageable shape (though, if going by my pre-kid definition, I wouldn't necessarily say it is often clean), necessary shopping happens, dinner gets cooked and eaten and cleaned up after, sometimes I fit in some exercise (although far less recently than any other January in memory, sadly), my kids get attention, and I generally am able to sit down on the couch with John for at least 15-30 minutes when the day is done.  That is, after teaching 80 high school students, grading papers, blah, blah, blah.  You probably don't really care to know what my typical day is like.  And frankly, I don't even want to think about all that I left out in this short paragraph.

But yesterday was a snow day.

The anticipation

And to me, snow days are like a day added on to my life. 

And though it is nice to have the option, in general, I feel no obligation to get anything accomplished on these bonus days.

So yesterday, while I did get a great deal of laundry done, and a trip was made to the attic, and the final Christmas decorations were put in storage, there was plenty that I didn't do.  For example, I didn't cook dinner.  As a rare occasion, we went out to eat a sit-down dinner (read: not fast food) with gift cards that we got for Christmas.

But what I did do:  I played outside in the snow with my family, making snowballs with the snowball maker that Cortlan and Everly picked out for me for Christmas when shopping with my mom (quite an awesome choice, actually) and sled riding with my kids on my lap.  I played on the floor of my basement with the train set and pretended to grill food and make cookies.  I played "Hang on Scooby-Doo" and watched "Between the Lions."  I read many chapters of a riveting book that the librarian set aside for me weeks ago - The Help - while sitting in front of the fire during the kids' naps.  I enjoyed spending time with my family all in the same place at the same time, with no sense of urgency, no feeling like I was misusing my time.

Winter is not my favorite time of the year, but you can't beat a snow day.  A bonus day.





Cortlan's Birth Day

The lead up:
Sunday, January 7, 2007
Monday, January 8, 2007

Tuesday, January 9, 2007

It is about ten after midnight, and I am experiencing full body shakes that I can't control.  They don't really bother me, but they kind of make John a little nervous.  Apparently, they are pretty common in the height of labor.  I get checked one last time.  Things look like they are a go.  So, the resident tells me to "give a little practice push."  And then abruptly and excitedly tells me to stop.  The baby is ready to come out!  There is a flurry of activity as they look for the doctor and get the room ready.  In a flash, the bed is broken down so that I can deliver.  The doctor arrives and asks John to hold my left leg while a nurse holds the other.  It is bizarre seeing my legs being moved around and having absolutely no physical sensation of it.  I am in a daze, just attempting to follow instructions.

The doctor tells me to push, and I do.  And again.  And one more time.  And I see a tear in John's eye, and I see my beautiful baby boy.  And I hear his beautiful cry.  And we call him Cortlan.

At 12:27 AM on January 9, 2007, Cortlan was born into this world at 6 pounds, 14 ounces, and 21 3/4 inches long.

And here we are, four years later.  And it feels like yesterday.  And I love him more everyday.

On this day, 4 years ago (Part 2)

Monday, January 8, 2007 at 12:45 AM

No baby.

After sitting in the triage room of the maternity ward for a couple of hours, half-naked and hooked to monitors that were clearly registering contractions, I was told I was "not in enough pain."  Apparently, the fact that I could talk through the regular contractions indicated that I was in "false labor".  I was given a shot of some liquid to drink that would supposedly allow me to sleep through the contractions.  Sleep, I would need.  For here it was, 12:45 in the morning (or middle of the night), and I was on my way home from the hospital feeling tired, a little embarrassed, and a lot relieved.

Monday, January 8, 2007 at 7:00 AM

I made it to work, exhausted, after the gag-inducing shot of liquid didn't seem to do anything to make me not notice the contractions that kept me awake much of the night.  And they were still going.  Still the same.  Very consistent in timing and duration.  But I wasn't due for weeks, so if this was false labor, I guess I just had to get used to it.  Though, I did tell my students what had happened the night before, and as they exited my room, I said, "See you tomorrow!...Maybe!"  And then I proceeded to get my desk cleaned, drawers organized, overly detailed lesson plans written for the week...as if I wasn't coming back...just in case. 

Monday, January 8, around 4:45 PM

I had made it through the day, made it home, ate some scrumptious whole grain chips and drank a big glass of water.  Now I was ready to lie down on the couch.  I was exhausted.  I put my glass on the coffee table, picked my leg up, ready to go horizontal, and "pop!"  What the heck was that?! I instinctively ran to the hardwood floor before it became evident - my water had just broken.  Jooooooohhhhhhhnnnnnn!!!!  I think we are going to have a baby!!!!!  I called the doctor and calmly explained what had happened.  She, just as calmly, told me that I could get a shower and head to the hospital.  She seemed in no big rush, so I did just that.  As I showered, John got all the details together, and again, we headed out.  Only this time it was a little bit different. 

Monday, January 8, around 6:15 PM

We were on the way to the hospital, with me seated on several towels.  It was definitely surreal.  We had just done this less than 24 hours earlier.  So much for false labor.  Though, I can say I now knew what we meant by not being in enough pain.  As soon as my water had broken, the contractions clearly intensified.  By the time we were on the way to the hospital, I definitely couldn't talk through them.  Somehow, the "dry run" the night before had prepared me, though, and I was feeling a little more ready for what was to come.  And obviously, I would not be coming home without a baby this time.  This was what we had been waiting for.

The check-in procedure went much more quickly than the night prior.  First, we had done it before.  Second, this was obviously a more urgent situation.  They took a woman with broken water quite seriously.  No triage for me...straight to the labor and delivery room.  It wasn't long before I was in enough pain to request my epidural.  Of course, the anesthesiologist came right during the middle of my favorite show, How I Met Your Mother, and I missed the whole thing.  So, I can pretty safely say that the epidural process took from about 8 until 8:30 PM.  And it didn't work!

What was weird was that the epidural did work on half of me.  So, part of me was enjoying the labor - that would be the right side.  The left side was writhing in pain with every spike on the monitor.  It took some time to get that all figured out.  When it was all said and done, I couldn't feel either of my legs even a little bit, but I was in no pain.

Through the evening, I was poked and prodded, checked and re-checked, and it seemed as though things were progressing nicely. 

Midnight approached.  All was well.

On this day, 4 years ago

Sunday, January 7, 2007

I was pregnant and feeling great. I mean great. I was absolutely loving being pregnant. In the month prior, I had ridden for hours a bus to New York City and walked around said city for days with high school students as a chaperone on a school trip. I think I even wore heels. And I loved the whole experience. And the baby loved it, too - especially the Lion King on Broadway. (My only downfall was the constant need to pee, so the Charmin building in Times Square was a godsend.) In the week prior, I had attended aerobics classes - step aerobics, to be specific. I think it put the baby to sleep. After dealing for months with the most painful thing I have ever experienced - cautrochondritis (that couldn't be treated because pregnant women cannot take ibuprophen safely, and the tylenol with codine that I was prescribed as an alternative caused me to be violently ill) - I was so happy to be out of pain and back to my cardio and prenatal yoga routine.

On this day, like many prior, John and I took a leisurely pre-kid trip to the store. We decided to stop at Burger King, and it was in the Burger King parking lot after lunch that I distinctly remember feeling what I later decided was a contraction. At the time, I truly had no idea. It didn't hurt. It just felt...weird. There was definitely a tightening of my abdomen for a period of time, but I couldn't identify what it was, having not even experienced a single Braxton Hicks contraction in this pregnancy. I mentioned the sensation to John. And then when it happened again, I mentioned it again. There was no way this was a contraction. There was no way. Because it didn't hurt. And because I was NOT ready to have a baby. My baby boy wasn't due until January 26. And I was hoping (yes, hoping) that my baby would come late. Maybe February?

The day progressed and at some point we decided to start recording some data on these contractions. They weren't getting any more painful, but there was no ignoring the by-the-book pattern that unfolded as we wrote down the numbers.

The contractions continued. Things stayed the same. Was I in labor? How was I to really know? As bedtime approached, a decision had to be made. If I wasn't going to the hospital, I needed to go to bed. Because I had to go to work in the morning. (As a side note, I had sat in on interviews for my substitute on Friday, only two days prior...things were a little less than ready at school.)

I called my doctor, who advised me to go to the hospital to get checked. I called my mom and let her know what was going on; John called his. And then we headed out, bag packed.

I couldn't believe how nervous I was. To think that we might be coming home with a baby! I was pretty much a wreck, actually. I was really not ready.

A Deviation

Looking good and dressing well is a necessity.  Having a purpose in life is not. - Oscar Wilde

Not quite how I live my life, in general, but hey - let's roll with it.

I like to be in style.  Or, better put:  I like to be not out of style.  I am not a fashion risk-taker AT all.  I am never the first person, or even the 1001st person to try a new look for the season.  In fact, as brand-spankin'-new-trends go, I usually think they look pretty stupid.  And even more stupid on me.  But after seeing the same style for a year or so (sometimes more), things start to grow on me.  And right around the time when a new style is on the horizon, I, finances considered, generally buy into the oldish one.  More often, my husband buys into them for me.  Yes, my husband.  And I am grateful for this quality in him.  That is, the ability to purchase Christmas and birthday gifts that allow me to stay within a reasonable range of error of the fashion trend line.

This year, I got my first pair of skinny jeans and knee high black boots.

Today, I wore my new boots with some new tights (also purchased by the hubs), a just-longer-than-knee-length skirt, a boat neck shirt, and a fat black belt tying it all together. 

And though I have a feeling that I am going to look back on this little mental image later in life and laugh, and my kids reading this in the future are definitely going to laugh (a lot), I feel like I look pretty good.  And there is something to be said for that.

So here's to you, Oscar Wilde!

She Says, No. 4

"Pop!!" she says, laughing, as I squeeze her hard.  And then, "Moe!"  She wants me to squeeze her until her head pops off...time and time again.  I love it, and I think it is making her even better at giving hugs.

"Essss" became "Des" and is now a clear "Yes!"

While she was unwilling to even attempt Cortlan's name for a long time, he is now "Doh Dah!"  Today in the car, I actually knew what she meant when she said, "Dee duu doe Doh Dah!"  Can you guess?  (Here you go, Cortlan!)

She loves to tell you what an elephant says, with a hand gesture and all.  And yesterday we had a nice discussion about whether elephants are big or little.  She has a hand puppet elephant that she calls "lillel" but she knows that real elephants are "bigg!"

She recently learned that the chair she sits in for dinner used to be her big brother's.  Now at dinner, she explains, pointing to each chair, "Daddy sit.  Mommy sit.  Doh Dah sit.  My sit."  And pointing again at her seat, "Doh Dah sit lillel."  That is where Cortlan sat when he was little.

She begs for books at bedtime.  She thinks a lot of things are "heaby"  (heavy).  She loves her hat and her coat.  She loves making pretend cookies and playing with the "choo choo."  She gets new words every day and it is awesome to listen to her figure it all out. 

I can't wait to hear what she has to say next.

He Says, No. 4

Yesterday, Cortlan cried for a solid five minutes because a stink bug was squished.  "I didn't want the stinkbug to have to go away," he sobbed.  We talked to him about the bug dying, after which he decided he just needed a good cry.  So, in the car, he cried hysterically until he was done.  And then he moved on.  Sometimes, I am almost concerned at how sensitive he is, but I also can't help but to find it a little bit endearing.  I have to keep in mind this sensitivity, though, and watch what I say, as I was reminded by the conversation that brought a tear to my eye:

Me:  I can't believe you are going to be four soon!  After Saturday, I will never have a three-year-old Cortlan again!
Cortlan:  Mommy, I don't want to have another birthday 'cause I don't want to be five.
Me (thoroughly confused):  Why don't you want to be five?
Cortlan:  'Cause you don't want me to!  Right?
Me (remembering the times I have said, "Can you just stay my little boy forever?" and he has said, "Yes, Mommy, I will!"):  Honey, I would love for you to be my little boy forever, but you are growing up, and that is a good thing, too.
Cortlan:  But I can always be your little boy because we can just make my birthdays go away.  I won't have any more birthdays.  When it is another day and another day, I will just keep saying it isn't my birthday.  And then I can be your little boy.

The conversation continued, I explained a few things to him, and now he is back to wanting birthdays again.  I will try not to make impossible requests of my little boy in the future.  But I will never forget that he was willing to give up his birthdays for me.

Happy New Year

The year ended last night on a high note, enjoying the company of some new friends and with many reminders of all of the good things about 2010.  It was a great year.

As we begin the new one, I find myself in an interesting place in life. 

I am a very goal-oriented person, who generally has one eye on the future.  I am a planner.  A long-term-goal-maker.

In my life, as with many, there were milestones: surviving high school and getting into college, doing well in college and graduating, getting that first "real" job, getting an apartment, getting married, buying a house, having a baby, having a second baby, and...done.  Well, I know that I am not really done.  I mean, at least there is the whole raising the children thing.  But for me, for my personal major milestones, I am there.

And it is a weird feeling.  And what is really weird for me, who is notoriously horrible at change (and I have never mentioned that before, right?) is that I almost feel ready for one.  Or, I guess, I feel ready for a new milestone.  Or a new goal, at least.

I feel like this past year has been one full of self-reflection and coming to know myself in a whole new way.  I have made many realizations about life in general.  I have been inspired.  I have been moved.  I have learned new ways to achieve happiness.  I have grown.  I have learned to cut others some slack, and I have learned to cut myself some slack.  I have learned that I am capable of much. 

So I start the year with no real goal in mind, no major milestone added to my list, but with eyes wide open for opportunity and for growth.  And at the very least, a plan to enjoy, to savor, to live.

Happy New Year, friends.  I wish you the best that it has to bring.