There's Blame to Place Somewhere

I hate going a long time between blog posts, because I get out of a good rhythm and get into a funk. Like I have nothing to write about. Of course, did I really have anything to begin with? That's debatable. There's so little to talk about on the phone with people now days because I tell it here. Why do we pay for a home phone then? Hmmm, makes me wonder. I know, it's because I am obsessed with the idea that in order to have safe, immediate access to emergency personnel during an emergency, it's best to call from a home phone line so your location can be quickly and accurately identified. And that is honestly the reason I pay whatever it is per month. Never a girl scout...still always prepared.

But down to the nitty gritty, I have nothing planned to write about, and my excuse is that I can't see my feet.

What do my feet have to do with a blog? Probably nothing. But still, I can't see them. Well, I can if I lean waaaaaaaay over, but then that could put me off balance and I could fall forward, and we wouldn't want that either. And while feet still have nothing to do with typing ability per se... I am trying not to otherwise complain. So feet it is.

Her Turn

It has oft been said that Clara has not had her fair share in front of the camera. And, for some reason, all of the sudden she is finding her time in front of the lens a bit more endearing than before. Every now and then she will even butt into a picture and say "cheeeese".

Commencement

Commencement, such a funny word for a ceremony. The word of course actually signals a beginning, but I found that rarely to the participants in a commencement ceremony think of what they are going through as a beginning. Even as a parent, I do not think of this time of developmental advancement as a commencement to anything. In fact, I am totally celebrating the finale of one child in daycare. And, were in not for the fact that soon another will quickly replace her daycare payments, I would've had even more to celebrate. Finale or commencement however, we had a great celebration on Friday, and the countdown is on for the first day of Kindergarten, which will be here in about 8 weeks!

Obsessions

I'm finding that I am becoming totally transfixed in milestones and achievements in Greta's life. I can only hope that I am equally excited even when the other 2 have these same events, just a little less obsessed. A year and a half ago when Greta attended her first "play date", I know for a fact I was way more excited than her. I'm sure the mom thought I was completely bonkers to bring a camera and photograph the kids playing. The first birthday party was equally as exciting for me, and Greta didn't even fully understand what a birthday party even was yet. So far, it seems like Greta's social calendar has been higher on the excitement level for me than accomplishments which should be more readily applauded -- like, if I may brag for a moment more, her reading ability and what seems to be some shining math skills clearly not passed down by moi. It's not that those are not as important, they are. I make a huge deal out of them at home, but they have been so easy for Greta that it's just more of a natural transition.

Oh don't be mistaken however. It's not like she is socially inept. Au Contrair. (Where was all of this French when I was trying to plod through with some modicum of success in High School?) It takes us a good 6 minutes to walk off the playground when I pick her up each day because everyone from 3 to 12 has to come and say goodbye and hug Greta. Some twice. It's like the pied piper leaving town.

We've tackled the play date, birthday party, I've watched her do circle time in school, she reads, she does math, she explains metamorphosis which I am struggling to even spell and a chrysalis and a couple of other words that seem longer than she is tall. It should go without saying that I have been anxiously trying to be subdued about this upcoming event we have going on:

Pre-K Graduation!

I'm trying not to think about it every waking second...but I am! I can't wait. I so want to be that parent that brings their 4 year old a big bouquet of flowers, gives them gifts, feeds them grapes while fanning them with palm fronds and exuding pronouncements of excellence. Seriously. But, I'm trying not to. Oh how cute would she look with a little flower corsage...but no, I can't go there. She's 4, it's preschool. An accomplishment? Yes. Did she have to perform feats of bravery, miracles, or even take a test? No. She's 4, it's time for Kindergarten, wham get outta' here. So I'm holding off on the flower orders. I'm not even baking a cake, though somewhere along the way I do believe I promised cupcakes would be served....

And my point of all of this is, thank goodness I have more than one child. And, I think it's probably a good thing that I have at least 25 pounds of extra weight while being kicked and prodded throughout my midsection, because if I had really had all of my energy...and had all of my strength...and all of my time to think about this? The florist just might have been on speed dial.

It All Happens for a Reason

I have come to the realization that it's a good thing I have more than one child. Not just for the obvious reason, for goodness sakes I wouldn't trade them for the world...most days. For a long time I really thought that one was going to be enough. After giving birth I was determined one was going to be enough. (OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!.) And for goodness sakes again, once that child turned 13 months old I KNEW for SURE that one was MORE than enough. Or so I thought.



So two worked out fine. Things really weren't crazy, though I do remember venturing out of the house to go to my students' fifth grade promotion ceremony while on maternity leave. Greta was home a little under the weather, Clara was about 6 weeks old, and I wanted us all to look extra nice so we donned summery dresses and fluffed our hair, etc. etc. It amazed me how long it took to just finagle us out of the house and wrangle our way into a stuffy gymnasium. Yet it still worked. I have two hands. Two sides of my body for children to lean against, and so on. There are 2 parents...see? 2.



I still haven't figured out how 3 will work, however. It is a totally foreign concept to me. I'm not sure why it seems so strange, I've taught and taken care of far more children, it should be a non-issue. But I still haven't figured out how 3 kids in a family works. The friends I had growing up mostly had 2 kids in the family. Others that had more, the older kids were grown and never around. 2 is such a nice even number. 2 hands, 2 arms, 2 parents. 2 or 4 people fit on a roller coaster, a ski lift, a golf cart. What happens to the fifth? Who is the fifth wheel? I can't wait to figure out how it is all going to work out, and of course I mean to say that me being 'one of those' type of people, I will expect it to work out immediately. Like, first day home. HA! I know, totally not realistic, and life is not meant to be that way. Tell that to my brain that knows rational thinking but chooses not to exercise it all of the time.



This is completely off from where I wanted to take this post, however. I had several points to make, one of which being it's surprisingly easier to be pregnant with a third child, than a first or second. For heaven's sakes I don't have any time to even think about what that little pain might mean, to mope about my legs being exhausted, to wine about not being able to lift someone or something. (Ahh, got all that out. Thanks for listening.) It's not an option. I don't have time to think about how it's hard enough for me to move around the kitchen let alone trying to maneuver an extra 41inches of belly while dragging at least one child by one of my legs, negotiating and elderly dog unwilling to move from my walking path to the fridge while trying to pick out the 'good' grapes from the 'yucky' grapes and wondering 'when did I even buy these grapes anyways'?



There's so many places to go with this topic. Like how many months I have been either pregnant or nursing vs. how many months I've even known my husband. Like how having children is really a good idea because I could see myself becoming lost in obsessions if I only had one child. Stay tuned, for more.



As well as more on the 41 inches....

A Story Worth Repeating, to me

I love the story of our wedding. It's mildly quirky, a tad funny, a bit original, and really just fits us perfectly.

So I last left you, we were postponing the ceremony due to continuous rain, hoping the next day might just throw us a window of clear skies. I recovered from my unfortunate crab incident which, after two years in a row has lead me to the decision that for some reason now, I just don't need to eat crab anymore. Luckily the minister was available -- surprisingly enough not too many people go for the whole sunrise wedding thing. We needed to have two witnesses, and she assured us she had a friend to bring along for such occasions, and that we could always find someone on an early morning run or walk who would not mind stopping to help us....Do you see where this is headed?

Up at 5:00 a.m. to gussy ourselves up and take the dogs outside -- we decided they were just going to stay in the room for this one. No need to battle tangled leashes around our legs while trying to be joined in matrimony after all. We met the minister outside at 6:00 a.m. and the sun was scheduled to rise at 6:10 that morning. Amazingly enough...and surely a positive sign, the rain had stopped. The sky was cloudless, and the horizon stretched on for miles. But the minister was alone. What???? 10 minutes until we are supposed to be basking in the morning glow of the rising sun and we have NO ONE to witness this for us? The office to this small hotel was not open, no one else was around. No one was running or walking the beach. NOOOOOOOOOOO! I'm not one to panic about such things, but we couldn't postpone this one again, and we were up and it was all about the sunrise people! I sent Chris off one way to search for anyone who might be up and about, and I checked the beach. He told me he'd meet us there. After what had to have been nearly 10 minutes, and the distant glow of orange about to pop over the distance, here comes Chris walking towards us on the beach. As I remember it now, I'm thinking slow motion, dramatic music, every arm moment and each step an echo as I see who he found to witness our beginning of forever....

2 seen-better-days fisherman from another hotel that Chris nearly begged to come help us out before they headed out for the day. The long scraggly hair that fell about their shoulders needn't be described further, and one shyfully announced that he hadn't put his teeth in yet. But they were here, and lucky for us because evidently their two friends with them not only refused to be a part of such a thing but tried to talk Chris out of getting married in the first place. I gingerly handed one the camera with the directions just to take pictures of anything so we could have some nice memories.

And what do you know. Though we don't have a lot of photographs, and I couldn't bring myself to take a picture of our helpers, I thought it would've been rude to ask, they didn't even want the money we offered them and the few pictures we do have couldn't be better if taken by a professional. It was a short but perfect ceremony, where the sun broke through the water just as we were speaking our vows to each other, and we just had us to focus on. The world at that moment belonged to us. It was about 6:20 when we walked back to the room, changed clothes to take the dogs for a walk on the beach, and then headed to the pool where we had a total of 4 1/2 hours of sunshine before the rain started again. While the rest of the day carried on much like any other, we managed to see the fisherman again and bought them some beer for their help.

And that's how it all began.

Happy Day

On May 16, 2003

in a private sunrise ceremony

Chris and Adrienne

both joined hands and

said

I Do

upon the sands.

Vows were expressed

so happily,

on Carolina Beach

beside the sea.

That was our wedding announcement, and I love it to this day. It's amazing how I have so few pictures of that moment, and other people have hundreds and hundreds kept in albums that cost more than some of my pieces of furniture. Yet I would put my moment up against anyones. And each moment in between. Happy 7 year anniversary and to many many more.

What a Difference a Day Makes

7 years ago, I was supposed to be married today. Supposed to, I said. At nearly this very moment, as a matter of fact. However that did not happen. 7 years ago today.

The plans were all made. We came in the night before to a typical, quiet North Carolina beach town dotted with mom and pop hotels and small gift shops. Peppered with local seafood restaurants and unique beach houses. Using the marvels of modern technology, I had planned it all via the computer, right down to the minister and selecting just the right wording for our vows. We had our weekend all planned out, and all reservations made, including dinner. We had been living in North Carolina for about two months, and were still enjoying the fact that it was already warm and only mid-May, and the fact that it had been constantly raining for weeks really hadn't bothered us too much. It wasn't just rain, however, it was RAIN! Growing up in Michigan, my background experiences with a downpour or "heavy rain" turned out to be a joke compared with what the south has to offer. Real RAIN! And so, after arriving and settling in our quaint hotel and triple checking the forecast for what was meant to be our wedding day -- more RAIN! -- we were able to contact the minister and change plans. We could wait one more day before we decided to work on changing venues. And by venues, I mean using a gazebo in a beachfront park somewhere.

And low and behold, after a night of discovering that crab is no longer something that agrees with me, it turns out that waiting that extra day was a perfect decision anyways.

So, according to my computer clock, I could've been married 7 and 7 minutes ago, on the beach with just a minister, her friend, and some random witness she assured me we would have no problem finding taking an early morning stroll or job. There's some foreshadowing there my friends, oh yes there surely is. More to come.

Similes, Metaphors and Other Beautiful Words

There was a time when I never thought about golf. A long time, like...most of my life. And if for some reason I did think about it, it was just "ooohh, golf is on t.v. again?" Now golf is a huge part of my life. Sort of. There was a time when I played golf. Not a ton, but enough where I went from never to frequent. As much as the game annoyed me, it drew me back. As angry and frustrated and positively ticked off I would get while hacking my way through various grasses and plant material, afterwards I would find myself wondering when I could go back. On the occasion that I made some remarkable swing, chip, putt -- no wait, never made a remarkable putt -- or whatever, that feat would make me feel like I could conquer the world. I haven't played in what is now going on a couple of years...hmm, wonder why. I highly doubt another round is anywhere in the cards for me in the near future either. But for some reason, it's been on my mind lately.

If you read the post from Mother's Day, you read all about Greta's proclamations of love and affections towards her family. This morning, all dressed up and looking pretty for the day, she stood in the doorway to my bedroom and -- complete with hands angelically clasped before her -- smiled and said to me "Mommy, you and Daddy and Clara are all in my heart. My whole family, even everyone in Michigan...(and yes, she named you all). Are all in my heart." I have to admit I was speechless. No words I can say, no hug I could give, could even compare to what she had just so honestly shared. I sat still for a moment, which actually must have been several because she smiled and scampered off into the other room before I had time to respond. I felt bad, but it was also clear she wasn't looking for me to say something. She was just saying what was on her mind. No strings attached, no reciprocation needed.

So, with all of that, I have come to a conclusion. Golf, and parenting really are not that much different. It only takes one great shot, one superior swing, one feeling that you may have come a bit closer to conquering the mystery of 'the game' to bring you back again and again (and, in our case, again). I know there will be moments/days/weeks that I will need to look back on this post and remember all of this, and I will not want to do that. And that's okay. I'll get up and start practicing my techniques all over again, find ways to improve, ready to try new things For the rare hole in one a golfer might be lucky to get in his/her lifetime, it takes thousands of shots in the water to get there. As a parent we might not always have thousands of chances to improve on something, but sometimes it's easier at least to figure out what went wrong in the first place.

Over on the side bar I have (hopefully) embedded a You Tube video from the Laurie Berkner Band singing the song that I am sure inspired Greta's tribute this morning. It is called "Family", and they play it on Nick Jr. quite regularly. She always sings along to itl

The Lover and the Liar

Coming off of an afternoon celebration of hearing Clara count to ten, an achievement I've been waiting for in vain since rarely does Clara choose to speak more than two words in a row--or is it that she just never has the opportunity to speak more? So today, after finding a small cache of hidden Easter candy in a basket in the garage (garage? Yes, garage. It was in the basket on the shelf after a mad dash from the kitchen cabinet without anyone seeing. Hey, so far it's made it farther than that bag of Halloween candy still sitting high up on a shelf) and noticing Clara was extreeeeeemely quiet, she brought her treasure over to me. Greta decided to play Candy Store with it, and Clara went along for the ride, but I was so excited to listen to her counting her pieces of candy. (Author's note: I am pleased to say that no candy was eaten and no temper tantrums were had in accordance with this parental decision, although that pack of Smarties almost drove me to violate my own proclamation.)

After Chris was home he was in the backyard barbecuing, and Greta was watering the grass -- and immediately labeled herself Supervisor, a role she makes sure she is in whenever it seems like an activity might need supervising. Chris called me outside, and told Greta to tell me what she had just said. Grinning sheepishly and with doe eyes, she calmly announced in her nearing-5-year old voice that her very best friend at school has now asked Greta to marry him. "And", she went on with the leveled voice of legal announcement, "he was serious." Cue big grin. Chris told her to make sure James came to talk to him, and I told her to ask for a big ring. (Nothing like teaching values to today's youth, huh.) So, evidently Chris and I better just forget about ever saving for our retirement, hopefully we can get her through college before she walks down the aisle.

Now on to the lying. Could it be that my baby , is taking innocence and giving it a swift kick in the pants? Kicking, funny I choose to use that. Exactly the point of this story. In the bathtub the other night, the girls were playing. Not together, just splashing about doing their own pre-scrub thing. Clara had been saying something a few times, but I really wasn't sure what it was. Until, it finally came through clear to me. "Honey kick me". "Greta kicked you?" I asked between smiles of 3 COMPLETE words...in a row...coming from my little bird's mouth. "Uh-huh, Honey kick me." Nearly completely appalled for being blamed for an atrocity both she and I know did not happen, Greta didn't let this one go untouched. After calming the rough seas on one side of the tub, the other side was still fervently repeating her exclamation. Interesting, I thought as my parental hamster spun wildly on its wheel. Clearly a lie, as I was sitting here engaged with both girls in the tub. Did Clara feel something and THINK this happened, is this a bold-faced lie? What to do now? I remember from my Developmental Psychology classes (two of my favorite classes in school) the nature vs. nurture debate, and is behvior learned or acquired. By now, I feel completely comfortable saying that, as far as I have witnessed, lying is a self-preservation technique developed very very early on. I will save the essay I could produce for another time, but am just simply verifying the fact that nothing I have done would have taught my baby to lie like this. Her sister? Well, I'm quite sure that along with a few other less than desirable attributes, this might be something she picked up along the way. So look out if you're anywhre near Clara, you never know what you may be accused of.

In Honor of Mother's Day

With sweetness voluntarily dripping out of every orifice, Greta has had a way with words the past 18 hours. Last night she professed "the love I feel for mommy, daddy, and Clara makes me happy". This morning: "Mommy, I feel so much love inside of me for you and daddy and Clara and George and Paisley." "I just love you so much, and I really want you to know that."

There isn't much more that needs to be said. Happy Mother's Day to our own mothers!

Love,

Adrienne, Chris, Greta and Clara

I Don't Know

A myriad of emotions.

TERROR: "NO! Don't wake her up!"

SWEET AWE: "Awe, that's so cute."

DISGUST: Drool

HAPPINESS: "Honey Sleep" and Clara was patting her back.

FRUSTRATION: Great, now she's not going to sleep at nap time.

DELIGHT: Oh, look at how cute they both are.

I Have a Great Imagination!

First of all, let me say that Facebook fascinates me. I have this Facebook account. I look at it daily. I have a ridiculously small amount of "Facebook Friends", and a lot of the peopl who are my "Facebook Friends" I have limited -- if any! -- contact with in the real world. I can honestly say that some people who are my "FB Friends" were never my real friends to begin with! And yet, I keep them on there because 1) I do enjoy reading about what other people are doing, and yes even if it is them telling me what they are making for dinner. Why? Don't know. 2) Social pressure. I mean, we all want to be popular, so is it the one with the most Facebook friends wins? Doubtful, and yet still I remain "Friendly".

Rarely do I post anything on Facebook. I just can't imagine why anyone -- real friends or family included -- would need to read about what I am making for dinner, if I am tired or have a headache, etc. After all, that's what this blog is for, no? There are a few connections I have made via Facebook which interest me. I get to keep up with my cousins and their lives/families, as well as a good friend from high school days. Anyhoo....

A week or so ago a "Facebook Friend" and real-life relative wrote one of the BEST posts I have ever read. Something which tugs at my heart strings because not only have I THOUGHT it, but I've SAID it and I know that after I've SAID it there are people who I was SAYING IT TO who probably walked away thinking I was an even bigger nutcase than they already realized. But here's what she wrote, and I am paraphrasing:

"People say they can't imagine what they would ever do without their children. Well I do, I would be sleeping right now."

Love it. LOOOOOOOOOVE IT. You see, to me, by making this statement no one is exclaiming that we wish we never had our child(ren). We are not wishing for them to be gone, erased from our lives forever. We are not wishing to have lived better lives without them, we are just saying WE CAN INDEED IMAGINE the possibilities if we had not so chosen to take the path we did. I'm just saying.

For instance, I can indeed imagine what I could spend money on rather than daycare if I had never had children. I do know indeed several things I could do each day of the week, rather than what I do (cue long list of parental chores I am choosing not to bring into the forefront of my mind). I can imagine that I would write about worldly events, give political opinions, or be up on the latest t.v. shows that do not appear on Nick Jr. Oh yes, I can imagine.

You would see more pictures like this:

Or this -- remember when this is what took up my rolls of film?
Or these beauties. Ahh yes, I remember when we had time for walks amongst flowers. Now my walks amongst flowers are mingled with screams of "BEEEEEE! THERE'S A BEE BY ME!" And no, it's not Chris yelling that.

I believe I will save the rest of the 'what could've beens' for another post. Not that I am lamenting my life, of course it is a wonderful journey and rewarding experience to be a parent. I'm just saying...that it is well within my abilities to imagine...what I would be doing without children. And changing a poopy diaper is not one of those things. But if you will excuse me, duty -- and clearly nature -- is calling.

2 down

Just a few snaps of the birthday girl on her big day. Thank you to everyone for the gifts, well-wishes, birthday greetings and happiness.