It Is My Favorite And My Best

For the past (almost) eight years I have been driving perhaps the most uncool car in history: the Dodge Minivan.  When we were first married we anticipated having a family relatively soon and we also thought we might be moving a bit (as apartment dwellers tend to do).  A minivan seemed like a reasonable solution to our potential driving needs.  We bought a silver one in the fall of 1999, and while I cannot truthfully say that I hated driving it, I did fully understand and feel the uncoolness of it all.  It was a soccer-mom vehicle, and a soccer mom I was not.  It served its purpose for many a year, carrying sheets of plywood and sheetrock as we battled through fixing up our three houses, or tarps full of leaves to the recycle center in town, or boxes and dog crates and bunny cages when we moved. 
And then we did have kids, and the van quickly became my hated nemesis because minivans are not very car seat friendly, as it turns out.  Our van pre-dated the LATCH system for car seat installation, thus we had to use the lap and shoulder belts to install them.  And minivans are not as roomy as you would think, so it was nearly impossible to put two car seats on the same bench seat and still be able to buckle an actual child into the seat.  But if one child rode in the way-back, that child was far away and felt left out.  Not to mention the fact that installing the seat in the middle made it impossible to get into and out of the way-back seat without crawling through a maze of seatbelt.  It came down to one solution:  the van had to go. 
Hooray! 
So Momma's got a brand-new ride, a Chevy HHR, Golden Teal Metallic, and it is pretty and fun and functional and has a great radio and it's pretty!  I love it!  I have told Brendan every day for the last week, sometimes several times per day, that I love it.  And I do.  Love it.  Did I mention that it is pretty?  Harry likes her, too, and has named her "Fancy", as in Fancy New Car.  She has a suped-up stereo system (which I so need when I'm carting around my kids, you know?) and various other lovely things like a remote car starter, power windows and doors (which the van lacked), power driver seat adjustment, sunroof, etc.  I love it. 
I am not really an "automobile = image" type of person.  I could care less whether my car cost $60,000 or $10,000...well, actually I do care, because I would never buy a car that cost that much (60k) because I am not an idiot.  But I do like to drive a vehicle that feels good, that fits my build and allows me to see over the steering wheel.  I also like cargo options, seats that fold down, and if I had my way I would be driving a rehabilitated very old car.  I like curves more than sleekness, and old-fashioned fins, spoilers and running boards make me smile.  I like safety for myself, my husband, and my kids.    I like decent gas mileage.  And, as it turns out, I like a nice stereo system, especially for those rare moments when I am alone in the car and can listen to anything I want.  You will never see me driving a huge SUV...I think humvees are a ridiculous waste of road space and fossil fuel. 
So my new car is perfect, a combination of old and new, great safety reportings and very decent miles per gallon.  It is my favorite and my best car ever.  I also think that it only looks good in a few of the color options available.  In black it resembles a hearse, in white a delivery truck.  In golden teal metallic it is perfection.  I am very opinionated, though.

Breakfast At Hovey Pond Park

When I run errands I like to get out and about early.  I can't make that happen as often as I'd like these days because you would be amazed at how tricky it is to get two small children out of the house at the same time, but when it does happen I like to reward all three of us with a treat.  So after grocery shopping yesterday at eight in the morning, we stopped off at Dunkin' Donuts for iced coffee, bagels, and a muffin, then went to revisit a park we hadn't been to in over a year.



I would like to suggest that if you've been away from Hovey Pond for awhile, or if you've never been, take an hour or so and treat yourself to a walk.  The park has undergone major changes in the last three years, with the addition of boardwalks through the newly cleaned and rehabilitated marsh area, complete with platforms and benches for sitting quietly and watching the wildlife around you.  The Robert Eddy flower gardens are a delight in spring, summer and fall and will give you great ideas for your own garden.  The pond is a great place to teach your little one how to fish and is stocked annually with trout.  Halfway Brook runs through part of the park and the foot bridge extending over it is perfect for playing "Pooh Sticks". *

View from the bridge.

There is a very small playground on the site (one slide, two swings, and a rope net for cimbing) but Harry spent only seconds on the swings before wandering off to look at the dragonflies and birds.  Additions of a water fountain and portable toilet open for public use make it easier to enjoy a picnic on a hot day.  The park has always been known for its wheelchair accessibility, with picnic tables, a fishing deck, a gazebo, and all boardwalks being wheelchair user-friendly.  Pets are allowed, but leash laws must be followed.

Boardwalk through the marsh.

Turn your computer's sound on, press play and listen to the birds singing!  You may want to look away from your screen for this, as I made the mistake of moving the camera and it's a bit bouncy.



Isn't that cool?

Pond within the marsh.

 Deck at the end of the boardwalk, overlooking the smaller pond within the marsh.

 The smell of waterlilies fills the air as you walk by the marsh ponds.



The grasses of the marsh make a great swishing sound as the wind tosses them around, and you would not believe the birds!

The gazebo that overlooks the entire marsh.

Can you spot the minnows?

Or the dragonfly?

At the large pond, some random guy spends his morning fishing.

If he moved a few paces to the right he would have seen an entire school of fish.

Ducks like this spot in the shade, and barely moved when we strolled by.







Wildflowers circle the pond, and are just as splendid as the more organized gardens up the hill.

The big pond...you can just see the wheelchair accessible fishing deck on the right behind a tree.

Mr. Eddy's gardens.







Making the face he makes when you ask him to say cheese.

 Emma fell asleep seconds after I took this.

 The tree we planted with Mr. Eddy's help in memory of my grandfather.



If you decide to go, you can get basic directions HERE.  For those bringing little ones, consider bringing a stroller with bigger wheels if you want to go through the botanical gardens, as the gravel there is thicker and harder to push small-wheeled strollers through.  Oh, and don't lock your keys in your car like I did...although I was able to stand on our stroller and reach through the slightly open window to unlock the door.  Phew!

*Pooh Sticks is a game from Winnie-the-Pooh, in which contestants drop a stick on one side of a bridge and turn to see whose stick is first to surface on the downstream side.  Not very difficult or exciting, but great fun when you are two, apparently.

Life Lessons From The World Of Toddler

What a two year old knows:  When I fall behind you'll wait for me, and when I am ahead I will reach back and help you.
When I was waiting to become a mother I told myself and, much to my chagrin, most people who would listen that I would not be one of Those Moms who sat their child in front of the television for parts of the day.  God, how I sometimes hate my pre-mother-self and her pre-conceived notions of what motherhood would actually be like.  Once Harry came home and started to adjust I realized two things: 1. I like to take a shower and get dressed every day and 2. television, when monitored by involved parents, is not necessarily the work of the devil.  So I ate some crow and put Harry in front of the TV in order to take a shower, and I made sure that the shows he was watching were not morally degrading.  One of his favorites became The Backyardigans who, with their catchy tunes and imaginative pretend play captured on our DVR, were delivered to my son in 1/2 hour bites that were the perfect amount of time for me to shower and get dressed.  Life was good.
One of The Backyardigans episodes is called Racing Day, and it is easily Harry's favorite.  (Brendan and I have favorites, too, but those have more to do with the songs than the content...some are very funny if you listen to the actual lyrics).  The abridged version of the racing episode is that the neighborhood pals are having a pretend race around the world and along the way, as each of them tries to WIN, they all discover that the journey of getting there and helping each other along the way are far more important than actually finishing first.  And the chosen winner at the end?  The resourceful Austin, the novice racer who helped each of the other contestants despite setting himself back.  It's the feel-good stuff that good children's programming is made of. 
Many nights a week we race around our house, something Harry started after he watched that episode.  On your mark, get set! he yells, and then waits for you to shout Go! before he races around the living room, kitchen, and dining room.  Harry turns his head to look and see if we're keeping up, and shouts an encouraging C'mon, Mom! if I've fallen behind.  There is no official end to our races, only an abrupt halt of toddler feet, which we must be careful to watch for lest we bowl him over.  He stops, crouches again, and yells On your mark, get set! waits for the Go! and we're off and running again.  Because there is no official end to the game, there is no winner.  We race for the joy of feeling our feet hit the floor, for the fun of sharing a laugh with each other, for the feeling of our breath rushing in and out of our lungs, and for the exhilaration of making our bodies move.  It is about the race, not about the finish line.

And sometimes I sit back and watch Brendan racing with Harry, as Emma squeals from her spot on the sidelines, and I wonder at how much our son knows.  At the ripe old age of two he seems to instinctively understand that winning isn't everything, that cheering others on is just as important as finishing yourself.  He gets one of the key lessons of life that somewhere along the way many of us lose, or never figure out in the first place:  When I fall behind you'll wait for me, and when I am ahead I will reach back and help you.
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Trying to have a baby, when it isn't working, is really, really, really emotionally hard.  Going to baby showers stinks.  Visiting newly arrived babies is like pulling your bones out of your body without anesthesia, leaving you a noodle on the floor, structureless.  It hurts in a way that makes your soul practically bleed, and having others around you winning the race while you cannot even seem to keep pace is truly just awful.  But here's the thing I now know: celebrating the joys of others is just as important as having that joy yourself.  I remember longing for a baby, my arms actually aching to hold my own, at the point when many of our friends and co-workers were giving birth left and right.  There were baby showers on my calendar all year long, and I went to them all.  I hated going.  I did not have fun.  I wanted nothing to do with cutesy games and mocktails; I told myself I was only in it for the cake at the end, and most times that was true.  I always said the appropriate things, wished the parents-to-be well, and left with a rush of relief that I survived another one. 
At the second-to-last baby shower I attended before Harrison came home (for his now best friend, Isaac) I had the double displeasure of being at a baby shower and having to sit next to another guest who was ripe with baby, so late in her pregnancy that her water could have broken at any minute.  Torture does not come close to describing how bad that was for me.  I was keeping quiet, but that pregnant woman kept on talking to me, and then had the audacity to ask me if I had any children.  We can't have kids I told her in a voice that I no longer recognized as my own.  Why?  she asked.  Cringing inside, my gut in a knot, I started my prepared dialogue of the short version of our infertility woes, but she stopped me midsentence and said If you want to be a mother you will be and she squeezed my arm.  How I managed not to cry at that moment is beyond me, because I thought she meant that all I needed to do was try harder, do better, etc.  But what she was really doing was cheering me on, trying to give me the strength to get through the day, the strength she knew I was lacking in that moment.  She asked if we had considered adoption, fostering, etc.  She asked politely, kindly, and in a way that made those options, so often deemed second-best by others, sound like awesome ways to build a family (which they are).  We ended up having a great conversation, I never did cry, and whenever I find myself thinking about how awful it was to go through the testing, the sadness and the heartache of that time, I remember her words.  If you want to be a mother you will be.  There was no mention of getting pregnant in that sentence, only a clear statement about a goal...motherhood.  If we wanted parenthood we could have it, we might just have to find a different way of getting there.
 The truth is we had just started talking about adoption.  We were in the process of getting information from agencies, looking at different programs, trying to decide which options fit best for us.  I was beginning to be able to see a faint light at the end of the tunnel of our agony, and cheering on other mothers by attending their showers was very hard, but not as awful as it had once been.  If I had not gone to Isaac's baby shower, I would never have talked to Jen.  I would not have her words floating around in my head to remind me of her offer of strength, of community, of help on a very difficult day.  I would not have had a personal connection when Isaac's mom told me about their friends, Jen and Jonathan, whose baby boy had a rare form of cancer.  I might not have ached as much for Jen while holding my very own son in my arms; we might not have gone to a benefit to raise money to help pay for her son's escalating medical bills, where we saw community at its very best.  I might not have felt a weight lifted from my own heart when her son arrived at the baptism (of Isaac's little sister), two years later, with a head full of hair, a solid, healthy little body, a clean bill of health, and a huge toothy grin.  Jen was expecting another baby boy (she still is), and as I held my daughter and watched my son play with her son, I knew that it had all worked out okay. 
Sometimes, in adulthood, the life lessons we learned as toddlers come into play:  When I fall behind you'll wait for me, and when I am ahead I will reach back and help you.

They Won't Sleep

Oh, my darling little ones, I beseech you!  Please won't you discover the sheer joy and decadence of an afternoon siesta, while the breeze tugs at your curtains and the birds are singing outside of your window?  I only ask that you learn to enjoy this one particular delight of life because I have a few things I need to get done each and every day, otherwise known as the dishes and the laundry, and I can't get them done when you are both, literally, hanging from the hems of my shorts.  Pretty please? 
Love,
Mom

Every Day It's A Little Better

Emma is doing so well.  She has been home for two months now and I am amazed at how well she has settled into our family.  I know you're not supposed to compare your children because they are individuals, but the difference to me is amazing.  I wonder how much of that difference has to do with my going to Korea to get her, versus having Harry escorted.  I will always wonder if we made the right decision with Harry.  It was the only decision we could make at the time, but I still wonder.
It is difficult to describe the little shifts in behavior that make Emma seem more at home, but they are there and they mean a lot.  During her first month here she was happy and would laugh, but her laugh was noiseless.  You could hear her breath move in and out in the way of a laugh, but she made absolutely no noise.  Gradually sound has been added to her laugh, and now she bursts out into happy peals of laughter with ease.  She has always been quick to flash a smile, but now more often than not the smile is accompanied by a happy squeal.  This is huge progress because it means (to me, at least) that she is comfortable enough with us to show real emotion, and she is allowing herself to be happy. 
She is also starting to show us her temper.  A month ago when Harry would take a toy from her she would whimper pitifully.  Now she yells at him and tries to whack him, and we get the same response when we take something away.  Aside from the whacking attempts, this is good.
When I give her a bottle now Emma relaxes into my arms easily and gazes into my eyes.  This is huge progress from the time when she would arch her back and resist taking the bottle nipple.  She falls asleep easily for me when I cuddle her close, and she often leans in for a snuggle when we're playing.  She is starting to be able to take her bottles in places other than her bedroom; I cannot tell you what a relief this is, since we were very limited on timing for outings, always having to work around her bottle schedule. 
Also a wonderful development is her newfound ability to sleep through the night!!!  She had been consistently sleeping through the night  in Korea, but until hadn't done it here until last week.  She has now slept through the night several times and when she does wake it is because she has rolled onto her back and is stuck.  She prefers to sleep on her belly. 
Which brings me to things I am concerned about, and will ask the pediatrician about at our next appointment.  Emma seems to have forgotten how to roll from her back to her belly.  She could easily roll in either direction when she came home, and can still roll from her belly to her back.  I know that some children regress a little in certain behaviors when they advance in others, and she has made great progress in creeping/crawling, cruising along furniture, pulling herself up, and other mobile behaviors.  I am hoping that in the midst of progress she forgot that she knows how to roll over from back to belly.  If we help her a little she can do it; it almost seems like the thought of rolling in that direction never occurred to her until we suggest it. 
She also HATES for us to be out of sight.  She cries and cries when I have to leave the room during the day, even for a moment, but she will sit unhappily with Harry if she must.  This makes it hard to do laundry, take a shower, or use the restroom in private, but we're plodding along.  I know she'll eventually get over this, once she becomes comfortable enough to know that we're not going away for good when we walk out of the room. 
Although she is gaining weight and growing in a normal range, I am worried that she is not getting enough formula.  She takes three 6oz. bottles per day, and that is it.  She seldom wants water or juice, so I don't think it is a lack of thirst.  I am going to try to get four bottles into her today and see how that goes.  I guess I don;t remember how much is normal at this age, when she is beginning to eat our regular table food rather than baby cereal and baby food.  Maybe 3 bottles is normal, I just don't remember.
So every day it's a little better, she is a little more secure, and our routine becomes a little more normal.  I have to say that the sleep, oh the sleep is phenomenal.  I have been cooking real dinners, getting chores done, I've had a renewed interest in getting out of the house for fun activities, and just feeling more like myself in general. I think I started my sleep deprivation back in March, when we first got the call that we might be able to travel, and it's taken me since then to get back to a normal night of sleep.  Sleep makes the difference for me between just getting by and really enjoying and caring about what I am doing, so this is the best progress of all.

So You Want To Have Kids

What are you, nuts?
Just kidding, of course.  One of the things that I found very valuable when we were waiting for our kids to come home was the advice I got from parents who had been there and done that.  And now, because my well of more creative topics feels a bit dry today, I will share with you my tricks of parenthood.  These are ideas that I came up with on my own, learned during my stint as a daycare provider, or garnered from knowledgeable people in my life.  Who knows, maybe one of them will be something you can use. Maybe not, but it's all I've got today.
1.  Kids are messy little creatures and cleaning them up, especially after meals, requires a good tool.  We prefer to use inexpensive washcloths, which we wet before use with warm water.  They are soft enough not to bother baby's delicate skin, and just rough enough to scrape off all of the nasty food that has dried on their faces during the meal.  We buy ours at Wal Mart or Target in packs of ten for between three and five dollars, and we keep perhaps thirty at a time.  I do one laundry load per week of washcloths in hot water and bleach, and they miraculously come very clean.  I even throw the colorful ones in the bleach...they come out looking a little tie-dyed, but they still function.  When they get particularly gross I recycle them to the rag pile for cleaning, and I try to buy new packs of them only on sale (10/$3.00).  We keep the clean ones in a tidy folded pile next to the sink, and the dirty ones go in a bucket under the sink.  For two children thirty per week seems to be about the right number. 
2.  Kids don't need toys.  No, no, don't laugh, because it is true.  The toy industry marketing machines would like you to believe that you need all manner of noise making, migraine inducing, flashing lights and colorful buttoned gizmos to keep your baby happy and help him learn, but none of it is true.  Do you think George Washington had LeapFrog?  Not so much.  My kids love to play with anything and everything EXCEPT their toys.  Empty soda bottles, cardboard boxes, and oatmeal containers are great fun when you're one or two.  So my advice is this: don't buy your kids toys, or at least don't buy them very many.  Don't run out and buy every accessory for the t.v. show they are into this week because their favorites will change by next week.  We buy our kids one toy for Christmas, and one toy for their birthday, which is plenty and we don't feel guilty about it at all. 
3.  Kids are messy little creatures, and cleaning up after them requires a good tool.  Might I recommend a dog?  Seriously.  You'll never have enough time to pick up all of those crumbs after every meal, and vacuuming every day is such a drag.  Get yourself a dog, bend your rules about your dog never eating table scraps a little, and bask in the glory of your free time after dinner.  You deserve it.
4.  If your kid is climbing onto your coffee table he is bored and looking for your attention.  You have two options: either give him the attention he seeks with an appropriate parent-centered activity, or put something of interest on the table for him to play with/look at/eat.  Cheerios on the table can keep our kids occupied for a good ten minutes.  Make sure you spread them out to encourage slower eating.  Building blocks, a wooden train set, board books, and children's musical instruments are all favorites at our house.  And just so you know, if your kid climbs onto my coffee table and jumps off of it, repeatedly, I reserve the right to put her in time out if you do not reprimand or redirect her on your own.  Just sayin'.
5.  Do not buy an exersaucer.  If you feel you need one you can get one used at a fraction of the cost, and you can clean the ickiness out of it before your precious darling ever touches it.  Babies quickly get tired of being trapped, and if you buy too many big, confining toys you will then have many big, ugly, plastic monsters to get rid of or store for the next baby.  Keep it simple: the less garish plastic, the better.
6.  Wear you baby.  Whether you are going to have a baby by birth, by adoption, or by fostering, wearing that baby will be hugely beneficial to both of you.    Wraps are great for small babies, mei tai carriers are wonderful from about six months and up, and backpacks are great for hiking/snowshoeing.  If you cannot afford to buy an ultra-fancy baby carrier, you can make one for under ten dollars...directions HERE.  Wearing your baby helps with bonding and attachment (great for the Dad who feels left out).  It soothes your baby to sleep, gets him used to the sound of your voice, keeps him safe and out of harm's way when you're housecleaning, cooking dinner, etc.  It is a simple way for your child to be a part of whatever you are doing, without you having to hold him.  Don't put your baby in the jail of an exersaucer or pack'n'play all day long.  Wear her, and reap the benefits.  Just make sure the carrier you are using is comfortable and distributes baby's weight evenly across your back...now is not the time to throw your back out.
7.  From a great book that I am reading, Buddha Never Raised Kids And Jesus Didn't Drive Carpool: Parenting With Soul, I have learned a few valuable lessons.  The first is to make and share with your spouse the Happy Mother/Father list.  Put on it the things you absolutely need to have each week to be sane in parenthood (i.e. 15 minutes alone every day, three solid meals, help with the laundry, etc.) and try your darnedest to help each other achieve the things on that list.  The second is to breathe.  Three breaths before you react when your kid has done something very naughty for the tenth time can be the difference between good parenting and regret.  Three breaths before you snap at your spouse can be the difference between a pleasant evening and not speaking to each other all night.  Parenting is not easy, and this book has lots of great ideas...these are just the two I like best.  Don't be afraid to not have all of the answers in parenthood.  Take books out of your local library and read when you have a few free minutes.  You can learn a lot, find inspiration, or even just be reassured that you're not alone in your woes. 
8.  Get one good milestones type of parenting guidebook, skim through it cover to cover before your baby is born/comes home, and then stick it on a shelf somewhere.  Every child is different, and you're better off talking to your pediatrician about questions you have.  Use the book as a reference only when needed, and don't obsess about what your child is doing and when.  Right before Harry turned two I was convinced that he was dreadfully behind in his speech/language development.  I was going to call early intervention the next week, when all of the sudden the words began to pour out of his mouth by the bucketful, and he has not stopped talking since.  He even talks in his sleep.  If you feel your child is seriously behind, talk to your pediatrician about your options and any free services/evaluations your county might provide.  Reading through the milestones book ahead of time will give you a working knowledge of what is normal for an age, but won't freak you out because your child isn't doing the things it says (s)he might be doing at that age.
9.  We learned this next one the hard way: make sure you do your own research before sending your child to any doctor or specialist.  We had heard mixed reviews about a urologist in our area, but because our pediatrician recommended him we went there.  We had three fabulous visits with his PA and loved the office staff, but when it came time for a consultation with the actual doctor things went horribly awry and I ended up firing him on the spot.  It was bad, and the worst part was that if we had done our research we could have avoided the whole thing.  So do your research, only work with people you trust, and if the time ever comes (and I truly hope it never does for anyone else) remember that the doctor works for YOU, and you can fire him/her at any time.  Do not let a doctor do anything to your child that makes you uncomfortable.  I had to physically put myself between Harry and the doctor in question to stop him from doing what he was about to do, and it is one of my proudest moments because I know I made the right decision.  I would be prouder still if I had avoided the situation in the first place.
10.  Sleep when the baby sleeps, even if the dishes are piled up, the laundry mountains are taller than you, and you haven't had a home-cooked meal in ten days.  Eat three meals a day, even if the baby is crying.  You need to take care of yourself in order to take care of your growing family; just like they say on airplanes during the pre-flight emergency tutorial: put the oxygen mask on yourself first, and then help your child.  This is the hardest advice to follow, and it is also the most important advice I ever received.  I work at it every day, and most days I fail.  My good days of the week are the ones where I put myself on the to-do list. 
11.  Work on your sense of silly.  We like to parade around the living room with tambourines, drums, and jingle bells.  We have foot races through the kitchen and living room.  We play hide and seek.  We dance like fools with the curtains open, and we sing silly songs even though the neighbors can hear us.  Kids grow up really, really, really fast; taking ten minutes to be silly every day will helps us stay connected as a family, and reminds us to be lighthearted even when they're driving us crazy.
12.  Get a very small diaper bag, one that a member of either sex will not be embarrassed to carry.  Our preferred bag is an Eddie Bauer.  It has enough room for bottles, wipes, diapers for each kid, and a few small necessities.  It is not larger than my head, nor larger than a purse I would carry.  Big diaper bags allow you to bring too much stuff, and no one likes their dinner guests to arrive with a set of luggage.  Figure out what you NEED to have, remember the above rule about toys, then pack your bag.  When you have finished packing it take out half of what you have packed and you're ready to go.  You can always keep a larger bag in the car with extra supplies/toys/clothes.

I guess that's all for now.  Feel free to add your advice in the comments section, as I am always open to good ideas.  I know I have more tricks and tips, but I can;t think of any right now.  Perhaps a part two will materialize in the next week or so.

A Day in the Park

 When Harry came home (almost two years ago!!!) we got together with some other people we know who had also adopted (or were going to adopt) from Korea and started a playgroup.  Today we met for a picnic in the park.  The sun was shining, the shade was cool, there were ducks and fish to look at, and a good time was had by all.  My mom is in Finland, missing her grandkids, and asked for some pictures:

Can you spot someone you know? 
Harry, although seemingly fearful while riding the carousel, begged for the rest of the afternoon to ride again. 

This hat is never allowed to be worn facing forward.  Taken from "The Rules According to Harrison".

This look says it all:  picnics in Congress Park are perfect on Sunday afternoons.

Our friend, Millie, took this one.  Summer hats are a must in the racing city.

Some Things Never Change

In a ratty edged photo album on the bottom shelf of the bookcase upstairs, there is a picture of my cousin Christy and I on the swing set at my grandparents house.  It is a Polaroid taken by my paternal grandmother, better known to us all as Grammy, who loved taking pictures of her grandbabies but hated being on the other side of the lens.  In the picture Christy and I are clutching our prized possessions of the day, our Cabbage Patch Kids.  We are young in the picture...I was perhaps seven or eight, and our hair has lightened to the color of wheat and flax from the hours we spent outside in Pop's garden, terrorizing his beloved pea plants and playing hide and seek in the rhubarb.  As much as I remember those days from looking at that Polaroid, I can also close my eyes and see the image from the point of view of the girls on the swings because that is what we did almost every day, all summer long.  We swung as high as our little legs could pump us, singing You Are My Sunshine at the top of our lungs and quite probably out of tune.  When we weren't swinging we had a quilt spread on the front lawn under the maple tree Pop had planted when our parents were children.  It had branches that were well spaced for climbing, and the grass that grew beneath it was moist and cool on the hottest of summer days.  On that quilt beneath the maple tree we spread out our doll blankets and bibs, diapers and baby bottles.  There were piles of doll clothes, lovingly stitched by Grammy: dresses with smocking, dainty white aprons and calico blouses, trousers for our boy dolls and little vests to match (I still have mine, carefully folded between sheets of tissue paper in a floral box in my basement).  We played with our dolls for hours on end, taking great care to make sure we walked them enough, gave them plenty of bottles, let them nap in the shade, and sang to them during soothing rides on the swings.  We were forever practicing being mothers, at least that's what we did when we weren't catching grasshoppers and other bugs to taunt Grammy with. 
Last week Christy and I,along with our Aunt Nancy, met at a local playground to let our children play on the nice new equipment.  The slides and ladders, tunnels and bubble windows drew in our children, keeping them well occupied.  But old habits die hard, and Christy and I found ourselves drawn to the swings.  Aunt Nancy, never without her camera, has taken Grammy's place as photographer, and technological advances mean that our faces are captured in digital rather than Polaroid.  She snapped a photo of us swinging, me with Emma on my lap, and Christy with Alyssa on hers.  We've both come a long way since the days of our dollies: we are, finally, the mothers we were forever practicing to be.  But sitting there, on the set of swings that seemed to call to me from the moment we entered the play area, I was eight years old again, swinging with my best playmate and holding a beloved baby on my lap. 

Rainy Days

I don't want to jinx things, but we tried something new with Emma's bedtime last night and: she slept through the night!!!!!  Almost twelve hours of solid, uninterrupted sleep for her, and more than seven hours for both her mom and dad.  Life is good.  Please please please let it not be a freak occurrence!
And here are some pictures we took yesterday because it was raining and we were bored.  It would have been lovely if they had both smiled and held still at the same time. 

Well Baby Checkup (Written Friday June 1)

Emma and I had some spare time yesterday while Harry was napping to go outside and take some pictures.  She continues to smile and laugh her way through the days, and we are convinced that we have been given the happiest baby ever. 

Emma also went to the doctor today for her nine month well baby checkup and weighs in at 19.5 lbs, and has grown and inch and a half since being home, bringing her to a whopping 30 inches.  That means she is above the 100th percentile for height on the American chart, and at about the 70th percentile for weight.  I don't know how these numbers predict what size they'll be as adults (if any) but our pediatrician is betting that she will be tall.

I promise a real post next time, but I am halfway through building an Adirondack chair from a kit, and better get back to it before I lose my steam.