The Camaraderie Of Christmas

Let it be known that the Christmas season is not my favorite.  It's not that I particularly dislike the holiday, it's just that it all seems so overwhelming: the jingling bells outside every store entrance, the blasting of Christmas cheer on speakers everywhere, the holiday ads that scream at me to buy more more MORE, the magazines that shout about making this my Best Christmas Ever, the displays of red and green that begin in late September when I am still taking my kids to the beach to enjoy the late summer sun, and the endless pressure of finding the perfect gift.  Something about all of this...extravagance?...over-the-topness?...commercialism? makes my mind feel all fizzled out.  This year has been especially trying because we now have an almost three-year-old, wonderful little soul who tags along on our outings and notices every rendering of Saint Nick, every cardboard cutout of a snowflake, and every single toy that is on display.  There have been shouts of "I waaaant thaaaat!" in a whiny voice, and there have been many, many patient discussions on the grace of giving. 
I don't like taking my kids out into the madness that is Christmas shopping.  I don't like seeing them fall easily, without hesitation or misgiving, into the traps set for them by marketing specialists.  I try to leave them home or with a sitter when I have to shop, but there are certain big box stores that are best visited early in the morning on a Monday, before the crowds gather and the aisles dissolve into chaos.  We made a concise and complete list of items to be purchased, we dressed in layers to avoid the freeze-then-swelter issue of shopping in a hot store on a cold day, and with our brave faces on Harry, Emma, and I set out to shop.  Though the parking lot was filling up as we pulled in, we easily found a good spot next to a cart corral, the secret jackpot of parents with small children everywhere.  I plunked the kids into a cart and then tried to push it toward the store.  It wouldn't budge.  After yesterday's snowfall, the parking lot had a layer of icy slush 3-4 inches deep and the cart wheels were frozen.  After all of the effort it took me just to bundle up my children and get them out the door I was not going to let a little winter get in my way.  I pushed and heaved and shoved that cart through puddles and snowbanks and eventually through the automatic doors of the store, where a wall of heat melted the wheels and blew my hair into a fine mess.  We were in. 
The aisles weren't very busy, and we were able to quickly find the items on our list as we dashed through the store.  It's not a place I like to linger because if it is quiet when you enter there will surely be lines 30 people long when you try to check out, but if it is busy when you enter you'll be able to check out in five minutes.  It's Murphy's Law of Wal Mart.  We had entered at a quiet time, so I had to rush in order to beat the crowd at checkout.  Also, if you pass the toy aisle at a near-run, the kids have less time to beg and point and melt into puddles because I won't buy them anything.  It's a win-win plan.  But just to reassure you that I am not the Scroogiest Mom in town, I did stop at the fish tanks for a good five minutes so my littles could gaze at the fish and frogs, which they adore (once they are slightly older I think we'll be adding a tank to our menagerie) and for the few minutes that we stood still I noticed that I wasn't the only one racing through the store.  There were other moms and dads doing the same thing, with rosy-cheeked, bundled-up babies and toddlers in tow.  We all seemed to know that the one and only way to survive the trip to this particular store was to go as fast as possible.  It was comical to stop and see what I must have looked like only moments before: one hand on the baby, trying to soothe her quietly while calmly addressing the toddler in the basket in an effort to make his little bum adhere to the bottom of his container, my eyes not on my children but scanning the aisles and products for the items on the list, which is gripped by my other hand.  My feet in constant motion, my face flushed with determination. 
Tired of the fish and starting to whine, my kids needed to go.  We started toward the front of the store, walking quickly of course, when suddenly another cart started to cross our path.  I had to stop and pull my cart back to avoid a collision, and as a sharp comment formed in my mind I saw that the driver of the cart was another mom, her cart filled with children, too.  We both stopped, looked at each other's slightly crazed expressions, and laughed out loud.  We joked that we were too short to see over the racks of clothing for oncoming traffic, and we smiled and waved to each other's children.  The exchange lasted only a moment, but laughing had melted, for the moment, the anxiety and frustration that Christmas shopping builds in me and I walked away feeling much better.
The checkout line was empty!  I breezed out of the store and found that the temperature had risen just enough for the ice to melt slightly, and pushing the cart wasn't such a chore.  Kids safely strapped into their car seats, heat on full-blast, we motored out of the parking lot and on to the next stop.  Harry noticed a McDonald's, and I quote: "Mommy, may we please stop at McDonald's and have some lunch and apple juice box?  I have hunger in my belly."  He didn't whine, he didn't cry, and he was delightfully polite about his request, so I pulled in.  Sometimes you really have to choose your battles, and we were a half hour from home, with many stops left on our to-do list. 
As I waited in the drive-thru line for our food I saw a familiar-looking figure leading her children across the snow-strewn parking lot.  Her face wore the shadow of the overwhelmed, but she saw me sitting in my car and smiled and waved as if we were old friends: it was my near-collision pal, the other mom.  I waved back as if she was an old friend, too, and saw some of the fatigue leave her face.  Maybe, just maybe, we all feel slightly edgy and crazed by this season, but I know with absolute certainty that strength can be found in the simplest of human-to-human connections. 

Some Days It's Just About Survival

It's a good thing I put the cookies away early this morning because had I not they would surely be gone right now.  It was a "Eat a whole bag of cookies and then have a good cry" kind of day.  I think my kids have a hidden stash of caffeinated products somewhere in the house.  At least I am choosing to believe that tonight because the alternative, that they actually have that much energy naturally, leaves me quaking in my slippers. 
I honestly do not think Harry stopped moving for a single second today.  He ran, flailed, jumped, kicked, spun around, stomped his feet, rolled on the floor, drove his trucks, romped through the snow, and went up and down the stairs all day long...he was pleasant about it but there is something exhaustion  inducing about watching small children run about. The energy it would require me to keep up that act for 1/2 hour is not insignificant.  I would expect Harry to be tired right now, but no.  Instead he is romping around his room, enjoying the liberties of being tall enough to reach the light switches. 
Emma was grumpy today, wanting to be held but wiggling out of my arms as I tried to hold her.  After a few close calls in which I almost dropped her on her head, I placed her little feet back on the hardwood and gently told her she'd have to walk.  So she clung to my pants for the next, say, twelve hours and serenaded me with whining. 
Then Brendan came home and chaos ensued, as it does every evening upon his arrival when our two short people are at once overjoyed to see him and demanding he "pay attention to me individually, and please don't you dare look at my sibling or I will scream and tug you away". 
Yes, it is a good thing I did not find the cookies until after the kids were tucked into bed, or at least into their rooms.  When I did find them I only ate three, and I managed to pull it together and not cry.  Crying would be a waste of energy, I think, and I am sure I'll need all the energy I can get for tomorrow's events: Christmas shopping with two toddlers. 

Conversations

The scene: dinner table.  Turkey, potatoes, and corn on the menu. 
Harry:  May I please have more chicken?
Me: We're not having chicken...
Harry:  Oh.  Is it Roosters?

The scene: Morning.  The hour is creeping later and later and still no sign of my boy, who is usually my 6:30am wake-up call.  Finally at 8:45 I go into his room, where he is completely covered up with a stack of blankets.  Mad giggling ensues, coming from the jiggling pile of bedding.
Me: Um, what are you doing?
Harry: I have been hiding all morning, Mama!  You took a long long long time to find me!
Me: How long have you been hiding, Harry?
Harry: Since seven zero zero!
Me: You've been hiding for almost two hours?
Harry: Yes!  I am a really good hider, Mom!

The scene: Bedtime, Harry's room. 
Harry: <long sigh> I have busy day tomorrow.  I go to store, buy some more milk, pick out some cookies, get some bread, find some good snacks, and then come home.  You can help me if you want to.
Me: Do you need me to drive while you run errands?
Harry: No, I can do it.  I just need you to make me hot cocoa after I play outside so I can eat the cookies I buy at the store.
Me: Oh, I'm glad I can help you out, Harry.
Harry: Not really.  I just can't do the stove but I can do everything else all by myself.  But you can help me if you really want to.  I guess.

The scene: Bedtime, Harry's room.  Five minutes after the above conversation.
Harry: Santa is coming soon!  At the pole he has a big BIG flat box for Daddy.  There's tools in it, I just know it. 
Me: Really?  Santa is buying tools for Daddy?
Harry: Yup.  Big BIG tools, in a big BIG box.  And he has a tiny tiny little box for me, with a tiny tiny little truck inside.  And a tiny tiny little box for Emmy, with a surprise inside for her.
Me: What about me?  Does Santa have a gift for Mommy, too?
Harry:  I think so.  It's a big big box, I bet.  But it might be empty.

Accidental Omission

In Early August a regular trip to the mailbox revealed a package from our adoption agency.  Tucked carefully inside were gifts for Emma from her foster family and a letter for us, love arriving via USPS from the other side of the world.  August was a busy month for us, with family vacations and plans for Harry's surgery, and somehow I forgot to post about the gifts here.  I also forgot to send a thank you note...well, I didn't really forget, but in my effort to find the perfect things to send to her foster family I kept putting off the mailing of a package, pictures, and letter, until suddenly it was late November and our adoption agency called to remind me.   I am ashamed that I took so long to acknowledge a gift that was so very appreciated.  I know her foster family sometimes checks in here, so I am going to post a few pictures of Emma wearing her backpack and barrette.  We keep the fan on the dresser in her room where she can play with it, and she enjoys waving it around.
Thank, Mrs. Koo, for keeping in touch with us, for taking the time to send a package for Emma, and for being patient as we fumble through our thanks.  A package is coming your way very, very soon.
 

A few more pictures just to show you how much she has grown:
 

Stepping Milestones

I have decided that for me the first steps of a child are not the most significant.  Sure, they are exciting and well worth clapping for.  They are certainly a refreshing milestone attained after a long stretch of my child's constant neediness.  But for me they're just not the best. 
For me the best steps come later, when walking has been nearly mastered.  They come when my child has been teetering around all day long, busy with her newfound freedom, busy without me.  After hours of exploration, climbing, and stretching for things I don't want her to reach, Emma turns on her heel and looks at me.  I am, finally, back in her line of attention rather than on the sidelines where I have waited all day.  Her face stretches into a tired smile, she reaches her hands out toward me and she walks, no, runs into my outstretched arms.  When she reaches me her smile dissolves into a giggle, her tiny little arms lock around my neck, and I swoop her into the air.  In this moment the baby I have lost to walking toddlerhood returns to me for a moment, and I am once again needed. 
And that is the best.

Things That Are Unfair In The World Of Parenting

1.  Four days of holiday festivities will throw off a child's sleeping and eating schedule for nearly a month, at which point there will likely be another holiday to throw it all off again. 
2.  Allowing your children to stay up until 11:00pm, because they are playing nicely with friends and seem to be having fun, will not guarantee that you can sleep in.  In fact, often you will be awoken earlier than usual, and your children will not be as nice as they were the previous evening. 
3.  If you begin a bad habit with your child, such as sitting in his room until he falls asleep, he will expect you to do it that very same way every night to infinity and beyond.  And this will undoubtedly cut into your evening alone time, and render you grumpy. 
4.  Children are very cute, even when they are being naughty, and it is very difficult not to laugh and thus encourage said naughty behavior. 
5.  You have to be an adult.  Or at least someone does, and it should be you rather than the shorties.  Sometimes this is the pits.
6. Cold and flu season.  Need I say more?
7.  You could find the right house at the wrong time, the house that would be an adventure and an accomplishment to restore, and it would still be the wrong time.  That very fact could make you quite sad.
8.  The people with the least resources sometimes are given the job to parent the children with the most need for resources, and just knowing that this happens will break your heart.  It can also make you want to take action, and taking that action can make you feel very good, and also make you wonder why you don't give more of yourself more often. 
9 .  Proper sentence structure and grammar go out the window, and I hear they do not return until after the children have graduated from college.
10.  There is never, ever, enough time to catch up on your sleep, and if you do catch a rare night when going to bed early is possible you'll lie there and think, so much so that sleep is entirely out of the question. 
11.  You will wonder if that right house at the wrong time could possibly have been the right house at the right time, and those thoughts will undoubtedly plague you forever if you choose not to take the chance.

Life has been busy, full of temptation, and talk of a five year plan involving career changes.  Emma is walking all over the place now, climbing on counters and chairs, and generally making us smile with her good nature and happy-go-lucky spirit.  Harry talks of nothing but BIG Trucks, tractors, and trains.  He makes us laugh with the sentences that come tumbling from his mouth, a play by play of life in his world that is funny and oddly adult all at once.  He is definitely a character, with a mind and heart all of his own. 
I know I owe you more specific updates than this; I am working on a few posts and will hopefully have them up by the end of the week. 

If I Had A Million Dollars

If you live locally you may have seen this house in the Chronicle:

I have been stalking this house, driving past it since I saw the article that touched on its past ownership and deterioration.  I have been driving past, walking past, trying to decide just how much I liked it.  Brendan filed to be my Voice Of Reason on this one, and agreed that we should go and see it.  So we did.  We called a realtor, and today we went inside for the first time.
Oh. My. Goodnes. I loved it. I thought it was going to be as horrible inside as outside, but we turned the key, opened the door, and walked into a sunshine-filled kitchen with cabinets upon pantries upon closets. Walk through a swinging door (think The Cosby Show) into the dining room with coffered ceilings, a beautiful hutch, and gleaming hardwood floors, or at least I trust they would gleam after a good hard scrubbing. Living room, parlor, original cherry pocket doors, a carved staircase that needs only a good dusting with Pledge. The upstairs bedrooms were big enough to seem grand, but not so big that one would feel lost. Two sets of original stained glass windows. Three fireplaces inlaid with crackle glazed tiles in subtle floral motifs. A basement so clean you could practically eat off the floor. An attic with so much potential...it was as big as a ballroom, with turret windows high above, allowing sunlight to reach into what would otherwise be creepy corners. Individual sinks in each bedroom, original. A yard that is small, but workable if we removed a HUGE bush that takes up an easy 1/3 of it. A Dutch door for the front door.

The downsides:
*The exterior is in rough shape. Needs repair and repainting at the very least, and the size of the house makes us think that project alone would cost roughly 75-100,000. Ouch.
*Bathrooms. Advertisement stated 2 full, two half. In reality there were two full, one of which was user friendly. The other would have to be gutted and redone, at a minimum cost of maybe $3,000? It should be a half bath, anyway, so maybe there is room to shave off some money there. Makes no sense to have a full bath on a floor with no bedrooms. A half bath was put in under the elegant staircase, and they removed the house's only coat closet to create it. This was clearly not done by the previous residential owners, but by Finch Pruyn (a local paper mill) who last owned the house and used it for overflow office space. I would remove that bathroom altogether and put the coat closet back in. The ok full bath is on the second floor, but at the opposite end from the master bedroom. I would turn the smallish room at the front of the house, and next to the master bedroom, into a full bath with a soaking tub under the trio of windows.
*One of the listed bedrooms is very tiny, and there is no clear place to put a bed. We think this would have been maid's quarters back in the day, but would make a very nice 2nd floor laundry.
*The second staircase, from 2nd floor to kitchen, is very steep. With kids that would worry me.
The interior could be redone very nicely for $50,000...maybe a bit more if you replace all windows, some of which would have to be special order. We would need about $150,000 over the purchase price to make it our home.
Long story short: we haven't got that much cash. This makes me sad because those rooms, as I walked through them and ran my hands over woodwork and pulled aside ugly, heavy drapery to let in the sunlight, drew me in.  I would love to be a part of the undertaking it would require to bring this house back.  I just wish there was a way. 

Dutch front door that leads to the once-grand front sitting porch.

Carved staircase leading to second floor from the foyer.  Those are purple stained glass windows at the top.

Staircase detail.

Newel Post

First living room with fireplace, looking into second living room/parlor.

First living room looking toward front of house.  notice the window seat, and the fluorescent lighting that must have been from the Finch Pruyn era of ownership.

Detail of first living room fireplace.

 Pocket doors from second living room/parlor to dining room.

Pocket doors from second living room into first living room. 

Second living room has a set of stained glass windows that are just beautiful.  Lose the heavy draperies in here and the room would be awash in sunlight.

Dining room has coffered ceilings.  The doorway just visible to the right leads to the foyer.

Built in china cabinet in dining room.  Your can see the foyer stairs in the background.  The doorway at the far right in this picture leads to the second living room/parlor.

Kitchen.  I LOVE the red sink.  this room has obviously been redone in the last 120 years since the house was built.  Where the flooring changes direction we think there was an add on.

From the red sink looking left.  Cupboards, a desk, and a microwave shelf.

The door just visible on the right is where we came in off a side porch.  The pantry cupboard is a huge draw for me.  I think you could also put a small table and chairs set in this area.

The far end of the kitchen holds the cook top, a space for double wall ovens, and large refrigerator, and a breakfast bar. 

The nasty full bath downstairs that would need to be gutted and reworked into a good sized powder room.  I could not close the door on the left for a better picture because the linoleum floor times had buckled so badly.

While we're on bathrooms, this is the workable upstairs full bath.  The tile is in great condition, and even the wallpaper is not hideous, as wallpaper goes. 

Small cupboard in bathroom.

Old school tub and toilet.  Not sized by today's standards but they would work until this bath could be redone.

Master bedroom with fireplace.  you can see the top of the grand staircase beyond the landing out the doorway.

Master bed. closets and personal sink.

Master bed far wall and windows.

Small bedroom to the left of the master...this is the one I would turn into a master bath with soaking tub. 

The other side of that same small bedroom.

Stairway to the attic.

Attic looking toward street.

Huge chimney at center of house and attic.

Attic looking toward back of house.  I looks like someone built a storage closet in this part.

This would be Emma's room.  Because it is pink, yes. 

Personal sink.

This would be Harry's room.  Because it is blue, yes.

The personal sink in this room is in the closet.  Weird.  Might need to change that, or where does one keep clothing?

The long, long hallway.

I didn't; get any good shots of the last tiny bedroom, or the closet in the hallway that has a built in clothes dresser, or the back staircase that leads to the kitchen. But can you see why I love this house?  Just to clear things up, we're not buying it.  We would love to, but short of winning the lottery there is no hope of coming into enough cash to make it happen.  But man, it does tug at my heartstrings.
So that is what I have been up to: stalking houses I cannot afford to rehab. 

Things That Are Making Me Say "Oh Crackers" *

1.  Remember THIS?  Round two has begun, only with higher pitched whining and brief moments of remorse from the wee one in which she gives us huge smiles and hugs.  Teething maybe?  I am still clueless.
2.  Whenever I open Internet Explorer I get at least two or three other Internet pages that try to open simultaneously, slowing down my computer and forcing me to close them before anything else will work.  I have pop-up controls activated.  It's making me crazy.  I have noticed that several of the unwanted windows are Google sponsored and I am going to try to get rid of my Google bar and see if that helps (I hate the darned thing anyway).  I am hoping that it has nothing to do with the two Trojans my avast! found this morning.
3.  My house is stupid, or at least the first floor is.  I know, I know, some of you will tell me to shut up about it, because it is a nice house.  BUT, the first floor really is stupid.  There is no good way to arrange to furniture, as is evidenced by the twelve hours I spent yesterday trying to achieve a good arrangement and by my slightly aggrieved back.  My couch has been in at least 6 positions, my dining room in two or three, and my poor rabbit has been moved at least seven times.  He is in a state of irritation this morning, stomping his feet and generally making a lot of noise without emitting a sound. 
4.  It's raining and I have to go out with my kids.  Also, see #1.
5.  This is day five of Brendan's third shift week, and I am exhausted.  So is he. 
6.  Daylight Savings Time.  Need I say more? 
7.  Tick season is disgusting.  I applied Frontline this morning, a day too late.  Riley had a huge engorged tick on her this morning, which I had to pull off despite the major heebie jeebies it gave me.  Ticks, leeches, and other little blood suckers make me cringe.

* Harry has started saying this when something goes wrong.  I think it hails from PBS's SuperWhy

Baby "Fella" Has Landed

Our friends, Robyn and Doug, are officially parents!  Their beautiful daughter, Ella, arrived last night at Albany International airport, and we were honored to be invited to observe as they became a family of three.  Congratulations to the new family!  Harry calls her Baby Fella, and can't seem to grasp the idea that there is no F on the beginning of her name.  Luckily, Robyn and Doug don't seem to mind his mispronunciation.
Watching as they were handed their daughter for the very first time I could not help but think of the first time I saw each of our children, and then the solid, real feeling of them in my arms.  I know that Robyn, Doug, and Ella are in for a few very long days and nights, but I want to wish them every happiness that family has to offer, and a lifetime of love and adventure together. 
Robyn and Doug - These first few days are precarious, but it gets easier and easier with each passing day.  Take heart, get some sleep, drink lots of coffee, and don't forget to eat.  And congratulations!

Halloween Pictures

Because you know you only come here to see my beautiful kids. 

Bob the Builder had trouble holding still, so no shots of him by himself.  He was off running down the driveway, ready to take himself trick-or-treating at 4:30.  It was all we could do to make him wait until 6, but he made it and we had a good time.  We also have five bags of our own candy left over.  Any ideas on what to do with that, besides letting it go to my hips?