I miss the days of writing here. But I don't see them returning.
On to a new platform...
This Xmas, JMT gave me the most spectacular gift. Will you share it with me? About the same time I wrote my last post, he began (secretly) tweeting the funny, sweet, sad and awesome things the kiddos say. He shared it with me on Xmas morning, and now I have the joy of reading and sharing the best moments of the past 18 months in 140 characters or less.
https://twitter.com/emma_leo_said
So come on over and see what they're up to. Should I ever get a chance to hop back on the writing train, this is where I'll do it.
Peace.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Black and White
The last time I posted a photo of this girl, she was a baby. Now she has her drivers license.
Well, almost.
And there is nothing I can say about this one that the photo doesn't say for itself. Except, "Wow."
Once upon a time...
Once upon a time, I wrote a lot.
I had time to sit back and think about my thoughts, and decide which ones were important enough to record, and write them down.
Then the last 12 months happened.
We are at the 1-year "anniversary" of the beginning of the hardest year of my life. And the end of it. With no additional one-year options tacked on.
A year ago, my boss resigned and took a great job in another community and I was appointed to take her place (temporarily at first, and officially later---more to come on that). The old me, the pre-babies me who thought her only true worth was found at work, would have jumped with a capital J at this opportunity. But I had just found my groove. My job at the time was hard enough to keep me feeling challenged and engaged, but not overly stressful, nor did it require much time beyond my normal eight to five.
I didn't have much of a choice about things though. I began acting as the Director at the end of September--right at the beginning of the most contentious period of my town's local elections--the results of which would determine what my future employment would be. Also, it was the beginning of my department's busiest time of the year--which we would now be entering one man short.
So I stressed about the politics (would I have a job in January? mine is an at-the-pleasure-of type of position). I stressed about my performance, knowing that my performance as acting director was effectively the longest job interview ever. I stressed about the workload--which was daunting, and some of the new tasks--which were so unbelievably difficult. I stressed about the time this was taking me away from my family. I stressed about the toll the stress was taking on my mental and physical health. I stressed. I stressed.
And I thought it would all get better when I was officially offered the new job (which I accepted) and I was able to hire someone to backfill my old position (who is amazing). But while the edge of the panic softened, and I was no longer on the verge of tears most of the time, I still felt an unbelievable burden. After all, I still owned a house in Colorado I couldn't sell in a town that nearly caught on fire on the national news, and I still had two sweet toddlers to schlep and feed and love and manage, and I still had family members with failing health and scary surgeries coming up, and I still had to find a new house to move to and then move and then get the new house set up so it felt like home, and I still had a cross country trip to plan and pay for and execute with the whole family. And more, and more, and more.
But now I'm putting that year to bed. Right now I am living the new normal. All of those stressful things from last year? They're over now. The house is sold, our family members are healthier, we've moved and set up house, our family trip is now a happy memory. And I'm still here.
I made it through. It's over. And I'm starting fresh.
L'shanah tovah tikatevu. May the new year be a good year for you.
I had time to sit back and think about my thoughts, and decide which ones were important enough to record, and write them down.
Then the last 12 months happened.
We are at the 1-year "anniversary" of the beginning of the hardest year of my life. And the end of it. With no additional one-year options tacked on.
A year ago, my boss resigned and took a great job in another community and I was appointed to take her place (temporarily at first, and officially later---more to come on that). The old me, the pre-babies me who thought her only true worth was found at work, would have jumped with a capital J at this opportunity. But I had just found my groove. My job at the time was hard enough to keep me feeling challenged and engaged, but not overly stressful, nor did it require much time beyond my normal eight to five.
I didn't have much of a choice about things though. I began acting as the Director at the end of September--right at the beginning of the most contentious period of my town's local elections--the results of which would determine what my future employment would be. Also, it was the beginning of my department's busiest time of the year--which we would now be entering one man short.
So I stressed about the politics (would I have a job in January? mine is an at-the-pleasure-of type of position). I stressed about my performance, knowing that my performance as acting director was effectively the longest job interview ever. I stressed about the workload--which was daunting, and some of the new tasks--which were so unbelievably difficult. I stressed about the time this was taking me away from my family. I stressed about the toll the stress was taking on my mental and physical health. I stressed. I stressed.
And I thought it would all get better when I was officially offered the new job (which I accepted) and I was able to hire someone to backfill my old position (who is amazing). But while the edge of the panic softened, and I was no longer on the verge of tears most of the time, I still felt an unbelievable burden. After all, I still owned a house in Colorado I couldn't sell in a town that nearly caught on fire on the national news, and I still had two sweet toddlers to schlep and feed and love and manage, and I still had family members with failing health and scary surgeries coming up, and I still had to find a new house to move to and then move and then get the new house set up so it felt like home, and I still had a cross country trip to plan and pay for and execute with the whole family. And more, and more, and more.
But now I'm putting that year to bed. Right now I am living the new normal. All of those stressful things from last year? They're over now. The house is sold, our family members are healthier, we've moved and set up house, our family trip is now a happy memory. And I'm still here.
I made it through. It's over. And I'm starting fresh.
L'shanah tovah tikatevu. May the new year be a good year for you.
Friday, March 23, 2012
2
Dear Leo,
Every day of the last two years has been magic.
Happy Birthday.
Love, Mom
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Every day of the last two years has been magic.
Happy Birthday.
Love, Mom
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Cat, Dog, Mama, Paw paw
These are the words that Leo knows.
Not too many, but he sure does know how to eat!
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Not too many, but he sure does know how to eat!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, July 25, 2011
You are my sunshine
My Leo.
Until just now, you've been the sunniest baby I've ever known. And now you hurt. I'm sorry. Who knew that those vaccines would hurt so badly? Emma must have known that is was going to hurt when she yelled at the nurses, "Don't hurt my Yaya!"
We're hoping that the pain & fussiness will fade soon and that the sunshine in your smile will return. And then we'll be able to focus on the tasks at hand--getting you to start talking and gaining weight! And maybe to stop climbing on the table.
You are so brave! There is nothing you can't climb or conquer. While so far, you've remained uninjured, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before we end up in the ER after some of your hijinks.
And now you sleep! Not so much at naptime, but at night you do, and for that I am thankful. The only complaint I would make is that you no longer want to cuddle and rock and sing the shema at bedtime. As much as I miss our sweet bedtime routine though, I do so love to see you sleep in your silly frog-legged position, head-cocked to one side, half-drunk bottle on your lips.
My Leo. You may not be smiling your sunny smile today... But you make me smile one of my own.
I love you.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Until just now, you've been the sunniest baby I've ever known. And now you hurt. I'm sorry. Who knew that those vaccines would hurt so badly? Emma must have known that is was going to hurt when she yelled at the nurses, "Don't hurt my Yaya!"
We're hoping that the pain & fussiness will fade soon and that the sunshine in your smile will return. And then we'll be able to focus on the tasks at hand--getting you to start talking and gaining weight! And maybe to stop climbing on the table.
You are so brave! There is nothing you can't climb or conquer. While so far, you've remained uninjured, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before we end up in the ER after some of your hijinks.
And now you sleep! Not so much at naptime, but at night you do, and for that I am thankful. The only complaint I would make is that you no longer want to cuddle and rock and sing the shema at bedtime. As much as I miss our sweet bedtime routine though, I do so love to see you sleep in your silly frog-legged position, head-cocked to one side, half-drunk bottle on your lips.
My Leo. You may not be smiling your sunny smile today... But you make me smile one of my own.
I love you.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, June 13, 2011
A conversation I don't want to forget
All last weekend I coached Emma to say “Albuquerque” and that daddy was going to Albuquerque for a few days and while he was there he would buy her presents.
Last Monday, as JMT was saying his goodbyes, this is the conversation that ensued…
JMT: I’m going away to Albuquerque, Emma. Do you know what that means?
Emma: You bwing me pwesents?
JMT: Yes, Emma. I bring you presents. What kind of presents do you want?
Emma: (matter-of-factly) A man.
JMT: (visibly startled): What kind of man?
Emma: (matter-of-factly) A black man.
Last Monday, as JMT was saying his goodbyes, this is the conversation that ensued…
JMT: I’m going away to Albuquerque, Emma. Do you know what that means?
Emma: You bwing me pwesents?
JMT: Yes, Emma. I bring you presents. What kind of presents do you want?
Emma: (matter-of-factly) A man.
JMT: (visibly startled): What kind of man?
Emma: (matter-of-factly) A black man.
Big grown up boy
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I'm amused
By my little monkey, who spent most of our last grocery trip squatting backwards in the cart like this.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I'm in love
With the two of them, and all their little secrets and rituals. It makes me so happy when I catch little moments like this.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, April 25, 2011
Wild Goose Chase
The children of mixed-religion marriages often end up with some mighty interesting religious-ish traditions.
When I was growing up, my folks didn't want me to miss out on decorating for holidays, but we didn't do anything for Christmas. So, when my birthday would roll around (soon, people, soon), they would lug the utility ladder out of the garage and plaster it with crepe paper. We called it the birthday ladder. It was wild and colorful and festive, and there was room on each of the rungs for presents! I'm sure my friends all thought we were nuts... but we were. So nothing lost there.
This year, on our way to JMT's parents' house for Easter dinner, we stopped at Confluence Park to look for geese. Emma has been particulary fixated on geese lately... in that slightly creepy way that only a two year old can be... so we thought it would be a fun way to spend some time together as a family. Wouldn't you know it, though, the area that is usually filled goose-shoulder to goose-shoulder with fowl was a ghost town. Not a goose to be seen (but plenty of evidence that they'd been there). So, we embarked on a literal wild goose chase around Columbus. In the end, we settled on some ornery ducks in the pond at Schiller Park. It turns out the geese were all hanging out by the horseshoe at OSU. JMT found them today while he was out running.
As I think about the type of traditions that I want for my kids to look back upon fondly, I hope that the Easter Goose Chase becomes part of the memories they conjure. Next year, we'll know to check out campus on our way to Grandma and Papa's house. And who knows, maybe this is the year for us to start a birthday ladder?
When I was growing up, my folks didn't want me to miss out on decorating for holidays, but we didn't do anything for Christmas. So, when my birthday would roll around (soon, people, soon), they would lug the utility ladder out of the garage and plaster it with crepe paper. We called it the birthday ladder. It was wild and colorful and festive, and there was room on each of the rungs for presents! I'm sure my friends all thought we were nuts... but we were. So nothing lost there.
This year, on our way to JMT's parents' house for Easter dinner, we stopped at Confluence Park to look for geese. Emma has been particulary fixated on geese lately... in that slightly creepy way that only a two year old can be... so we thought it would be a fun way to spend some time together as a family. Wouldn't you know it, though, the area that is usually filled goose-shoulder to goose-shoulder with fowl was a ghost town. Not a goose to be seen (but plenty of evidence that they'd been there). So, we embarked on a literal wild goose chase around Columbus. In the end, we settled on some ornery ducks in the pond at Schiller Park. It turns out the geese were all hanging out by the horseshoe at OSU. JMT found them today while he was out running.
As I think about the type of traditions that I want for my kids to look back upon fondly, I hope that the Easter Goose Chase becomes part of the memories they conjure. Next year, we'll know to check out campus on our way to Grandma and Papa's house. And who knows, maybe this is the year for us to start a birthday ladder?
Monday, April 11, 2011
Not so sweet
Leo waking up a dozen times in the night in teething pain and me having a 13+ hour day at work the next day.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
So sweet
That Emma has discovered how cozy cuddling in mommy's bed can be.
E: "this you spot?" (patting pillow)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
E: "this you spot?" (patting pillow)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, January 31, 2011
Random things
Random things…
Leo is amazing. At 10 months old, there is nowhere he can’t get to. He’s not walking, technically, but standing and scooting and pushing things all around. He says Mama. He plays peekaboo and claps his hands. He’s almost always smiling. And that smile is no longer toothless. He has three teeth and another on the way.
Leo is a fearless and voracious eater. We may never finish off the last of the baby food, because as soon as he learned how awesome it is to eat real food, he dove into it wholeheartedly. To date, he has never turned his nose up at anything. Except mama… right now he is on an intermittent nursing strike that is frustrating and occasionally maddening to me. It began after a painful blood draw. He doesn’t seem to want to spend much time snuggling with me since then… I think he’s voicing his protest in the only way he knows how.
Emma is a goofy and talkative delight. Her verbal skills are no longer measured in number of words, but in complexity of sentences and creativity of ideas. She has mastered shapes and colors and is counting to 10 (usually in order, but frequently skipping three). The other day, she told us that Leo is white. Surprised and curious about her racial awareness, we began asking her about what color other members of the family are.
Us: What color is Emma?
Emma: White.
Us: What color is mommy?
Emma: White.
Us: What color is Rance?
Emma: Black.
Us: What color is Babycat?
Emma: Umm… Brown.
Us: What color is Wiley?
Emma: Mean.
Spot on.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Leo is amazing. At 10 months old, there is nowhere he can’t get to. He’s not walking, technically, but standing and scooting and pushing things all around. He says Mama. He plays peekaboo and claps his hands. He’s almost always smiling. And that smile is no longer toothless. He has three teeth and another on the way.
Leo is a fearless and voracious eater. We may never finish off the last of the baby food, because as soon as he learned how awesome it is to eat real food, he dove into it wholeheartedly. To date, he has never turned his nose up at anything. Except mama… right now he is on an intermittent nursing strike that is frustrating and occasionally maddening to me. It began after a painful blood draw. He doesn’t seem to want to spend much time snuggling with me since then… I think he’s voicing his protest in the only way he knows how.
Emma is a goofy and talkative delight. Her verbal skills are no longer measured in number of words, but in complexity of sentences and creativity of ideas. She has mastered shapes and colors and is counting to 10 (usually in order, but frequently skipping three). The other day, she told us that Leo is white. Surprised and curious about her racial awareness, we began asking her about what color other members of the family are.
Us: What color is Emma?
Emma: White.
Us: What color is mommy?
Emma: White.
Us: What color is Rance?
Emma: Black.
Us: What color is Babycat?
Emma: Umm… Brown.
Us: What color is Wiley?
Emma: Mean.
Spot on.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Don't let me forget
That this is the weekend Leo learned to crawl. Oh, and that his first word is "mama" and he says it most enthusiastically when he's chomping on vegetables.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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