All of the news sources are doing it--looking back on 2012 and creating best of, worst of, and never want to see/hear again lists. As we near resolution declarations, I thought to look back at our wild 2012 and, more importantly, gear up for what's to come in 2013. In brief fashion, because few care to relieve my life, here is our 2012: the year the world didn't end.
In 2012 Levi became a mover. First he crawled, then at 11 months, walked, and now he can dance to music ("Gangnam Style" is his favorite) and run. Levi also learned to climb and has become quite resourceful with using objects of various heights and sturdiness (read: the dog) to reach his desired destinations. Levi says Daddy, Mommy, and some form of Gooey which we think stands for Norah or Pippa, depending. He can high five, billy goat, and give kisses. He consistently and without problems sleeps in his crib for at least 10 hours each night. The worst part of his year was just last week with his first (and we hope his last) trip to Riley Children's Hospital for dangerously low platelet counts. Zach and I had never considered what we'd do if one of our children were sick, and a parents' worst fears flashed before us for those 20 hours from doctor's phone call at 8 p.m. to hematologist's confirmation that all is well the following 3 p.m. Neither of us had ever been so scared. The situation, as horrible and sudden as it was, also ended up being one of the year's biggest blessings. Levi is perfectly fine, and Zach and I became much closer through the ordeal. I was reminded how precious our life is, and I have a renewed determination not to take anything for granted.
Norah blossomed more than we thought an already creative, outspoken little girl could. She graduated from preschool, joined Pop Warner Tiny Mites, started kindergarten, learned to read, and became a more confident and intelligent individual. In the last two weeks she has challenged herself to sleep with only a lava lamp on (instead of an actual lamp) and continues to eat crazy amounts of meat and vegetables in the hopes that she'll grow the remaining two inches needed to reach Disney World ride height requirements. She is bound and determined to go on the Tower of Terror with her cousins in March when all 13 of us trek to Orlando for spring break. We've already decided to pad her shoes with socks if need be, but it's cute to watch her set goals. 2012 also brought a renewed belief in Santa and the magic of Christmas.
As for me, this past year I stepped out of my comfort zone (majorly) and took on direction of a school play. I finally feel in control and confident in my classroom. The state's changes to evaluations have shaked that confidence, but I'm choosing to focus on what I can control and remain positive. I've also taken my future into my own hands by FINALLY committing to writing my novel. I've counted a novel as my biggest goal since I was 11 and read Harriet the Spy for the first time, but I've never ventured into the realm of actually doing anything toward writing one. A month ago I crafted my main character and the basic rough storyline. I also decided to move National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo, which is November annually) to January for myself. By January 31, I will have written at least 50,000 words. Now that you've read that last sentence, it has to happen. If you see me or talk to me at all during January, ask me how my writing is going. One industrious student has committed to writing his novel with me, so I'm hoping the responsibility of inspiring a 15-year-old will be enough to keep me honest. I really am excited about the process, though. The 31 day deadline forces me to get out of my head, turn off my perfectionism, and literally get the words out of my body. After that, the hard work (for me, at least) will be done. Revising and editing make me smile and dance with joy, so I could do that for the rest of 2013 happily. Writing the book is the hurdle. So, here is my official 2013 resolution: complete NaNoWriMo and then be proud of myself. I just added that second part, and then thought to mark the follow-up goal, because I realize while typing this that that may actually be more difficult than doing the work. I'll let you know how the entire process goes, and you let me know that you expect me to follow through on something for a change. Teamwork, kids!
As for the rest of the upcoming year, we're planning a joint anniversary trip with two other couples for the fall, we want to take Norah and Levi to a lot of fun, educational, memory-making places, and we want to really focus on saving money so we can start planning for Wild Baby No. 3. That also includes dreams for a larger house, with more than one bathroom, a garage, and a larger yard, as well as "scheduling" that baby's arrival as best we can so I don't have to take off a lot of time during the school year. I know you can't really schedule a baby, and I know we'd be ecstactic whenever God delivers our next bundle of joy (me, moreso than Zach--he'll only be ecstatic if that arrival is a ways off), but planning works for our family so we're going to keep doing it.
I'm off to enjoy the rest of the day with the Wild fam. Zach and I got to sleep in today (which NEVER happens) as the kids slept at their grandparents' house, and then I did Bethenny Frankel's yoga DVD. Feeling very centered and zen-like :) I also have a new book, Gone Girl, I'd really like to dig into today. When I really look at it, 2012 was a good year. I have the feeling, however, that 2013 will be much better.
Happy New Year, readers! See you next year.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
The view from up here
November is already over? It was by far the busiest month of my year. I had the fall play to prepare for (which debuted November 2) and birthdays for both children--which of course means two birthday parties. Norah had her first friends party at the bowling alley, and Levi's first birthday was celebrated with a monster theme (so fun!) at the fire station. My little one year old amazes me every day. He is starting to communicate effectively now, even though most of his "words" sound like EE! He is running everywhere and into everything. Being a mom is by far the most amazing thing I've ever done. I can't wait to do it again. Zach says I can wait, so maybe in a couple of years Levi will become a big brother. For now, we're working really hard at establishing a functioning budget/savings system, making improvements to the house so we can move to something larger eventually, and preparing for our third anniversary trip with friends who share similar wedding dates. We're thinking Puerto Rico or the Dominican; any recommendations? Our life has been a little less wild lately but no less sweet.
As far as my first foray into theater is concerned, my cast's production of "Les Miserables" was nothing short of a triumph. My students dazzled me with their dedication and hard work; I threw a complicated, challenging script at them and gave them one month from table read to opening night. Critics told me I was crazy, that a month wasn't even close to enough time, that I was bound to drive myself to an ulcer and an on-stage failure. I felt confident making my rehearsal schedule given the opening night date, but their lack of faith pushed me that much harder to prove them wrong. My students responded to my expectations and then surpassed them. That's what I love about teaching--I'm surprised every day, and I'm learning as much from them as they are from me. Opening night was a bit rocky as far as nerves and memory, but I couldn't have been prouder. The second performance featured a skipped scene in Act I, which gave my students a chance to ad lib and recover seamlessly, and a nearly flawless Act II. Our time crunch forced us all to buckle down and focus; we had no time to rest or get sloppy. Watching my cast perform their pre-show ritual (probably a top secret theater thing I shouldn't repeat for fear of cursed shows in the future) I got that warm, tingly feeling of connection. Students from all walks of life came together as a family of miserable ones, and it was beautiful. My mentor recommended walking away from the experience for a bit and "letting the dust settle" before I decided whether I'd direct again, but I really didn't need that time. Sitting in the back of the audience, watching them perform, I knew I wanted to do this again. I grew as a teacher and a person, and I couldn't be prouder.
This month I've got the countdown to Christmas break happening. I'm excited for Levi to really experience his first Christmas (last year he was basically a lump), and Norah is loving her Elf on the Shelf, Flyer. She is learning to read and is recognizing new words every day. That's a wonder to watch. A couple of my lifelong best friends are returning to the midwest this month, too, so we have amazing wine-filled rendezvous planned. I have also decided to move NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, which is November) to January. Beginning Jan. 1, 2013, I am cranking out a 50,000+ word novel before February. I've sketched out my main character and a rough idea of the plot, but I'm mostly letting it ripen in my brain until year's end. Then, it's buckle down time. I kind of love the idea that it doesn't have to be good. I just have to force it out in 31 days. I've been wanting to write a novel since I was a teen, and I've realized that there will never be a good time to tackle something like this. January encouragement will be wholly welcomed. I also intend on getting back to blogging more regularly, so if you've missed me dearly, fret not. Mama Wild is back!
As far as my first foray into theater is concerned, my cast's production of "Les Miserables" was nothing short of a triumph. My students dazzled me with their dedication and hard work; I threw a complicated, challenging script at them and gave them one month from table read to opening night. Critics told me I was crazy, that a month wasn't even close to enough time, that I was bound to drive myself to an ulcer and an on-stage failure. I felt confident making my rehearsal schedule given the opening night date, but their lack of faith pushed me that much harder to prove them wrong. My students responded to my expectations and then surpassed them. That's what I love about teaching--I'm surprised every day, and I'm learning as much from them as they are from me. Opening night was a bit rocky as far as nerves and memory, but I couldn't have been prouder. The second performance featured a skipped scene in Act I, which gave my students a chance to ad lib and recover seamlessly, and a nearly flawless Act II. Our time crunch forced us all to buckle down and focus; we had no time to rest or get sloppy. Watching my cast perform their pre-show ritual (probably a top secret theater thing I shouldn't repeat for fear of cursed shows in the future) I got that warm, tingly feeling of connection. Students from all walks of life came together as a family of miserable ones, and it was beautiful. My mentor recommended walking away from the experience for a bit and "letting the dust settle" before I decided whether I'd direct again, but I really didn't need that time. Sitting in the back of the audience, watching them perform, I knew I wanted to do this again. I grew as a teacher and a person, and I couldn't be prouder.
This month I've got the countdown to Christmas break happening. I'm excited for Levi to really experience his first Christmas (last year he was basically a lump), and Norah is loving her Elf on the Shelf, Flyer. She is learning to read and is recognizing new words every day. That's a wonder to watch. A couple of my lifelong best friends are returning to the midwest this month, too, so we have amazing wine-filled rendezvous planned. I have also decided to move NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, which is November) to January. Beginning Jan. 1, 2013, I am cranking out a 50,000+ word novel before February. I've sketched out my main character and a rough idea of the plot, but I'm mostly letting it ripen in my brain until year's end. Then, it's buckle down time. I kind of love the idea that it doesn't have to be good. I just have to force it out in 31 days. I've been wanting to write a novel since I was a teen, and I've realized that there will never be a good time to tackle something like this. January encouragement will be wholly welcomed. I also intend on getting back to blogging more regularly, so if you've missed me dearly, fret not. Mama Wild is back!
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
On joining AA
Hi, I'm Erica, and I'm an anger-aholic.
*Hi, Erica*
I've been anger-free for one hour now. Acceptance of my problem is a recent development (you may not have even known I struggled with this.) Mired in denial for too long, I only recently came to grips with my demons. I have let the anxieties of school, my annoyances with child support and our attempt at "co"parenting with the Other, and my general high levels of stress this school year combine forces to create a giant, festering mass. That mass has risen like yeast into a surly menace called Anger. Anger rests at the base of my throat, barely contained, and erupts at a moment's notice. The tiniest things beckon him from dark hiding place: the dog refusing to leave her crate, my inability to open a paper clip today, the populace of La Porte forgetting the rules of the road once turn lanes are removed from Lincolnway. Anger is quick to speak, slow to retreat after emerging, impatient, and incredibly ugly. And he's got a mind of his own. He doesn't like to be controlled, and I've, until today, given up on attempting to rein him in.
Extended metaphor aside, I have been really tense and agitated lately, and in quiet moments I realize how heated I am for no discernible reason. I'm frustrated about a lot of things that aren't really in my power to control, but instead of letting go I'm holding on to my anger all the tighter in an inane attempt to gain control. Our finances have been another stealthy stressor for months now, lurking in the background and rearing their ugly head from time to time (always at the worst times, it seems). Basically I've been choosing anger over any alternative, and I cannot continue to function this way.
So, I'm choosing to adopt the AA prayer as my mantra: Allow me to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I am choosing to release the festering mass to the atmosphere in a yogic exhale rather than continue to house Anger any longer. No Vacancy, buddy. An AA coin would be really helpful this week, something substantial I could finger in my pocket when my blood pressure begins to rise, a talisman to ward against Anger's insidiousness, a tangible reminder that there's no point in fretting the things I cannot change. Coin ornot, though, I must soldier on in my quest for sobriet. I must do this for my children, my students, and any unfortunate bystanders who've been on the receiving end of Anger's apperances as of late. Quest for acceptance, accepted, world.
*Hi, Erica*
I've been anger-free for one hour now. Acceptance of my problem is a recent development (you may not have even known I struggled with this.) Mired in denial for too long, I only recently came to grips with my demons. I have let the anxieties of school, my annoyances with child support and our attempt at "co"parenting with the Other, and my general high levels of stress this school year combine forces to create a giant, festering mass. That mass has risen like yeast into a surly menace called Anger. Anger rests at the base of my throat, barely contained, and erupts at a moment's notice. The tiniest things beckon him from dark hiding place: the dog refusing to leave her crate, my inability to open a paper clip today, the populace of La Porte forgetting the rules of the road once turn lanes are removed from Lincolnway. Anger is quick to speak, slow to retreat after emerging, impatient, and incredibly ugly. And he's got a mind of his own. He doesn't like to be controlled, and I've, until today, given up on attempting to rein him in.
Extended metaphor aside, I have been really tense and agitated lately, and in quiet moments I realize how heated I am for no discernible reason. I'm frustrated about a lot of things that aren't really in my power to control, but instead of letting go I'm holding on to my anger all the tighter in an inane attempt to gain control. Our finances have been another stealthy stressor for months now, lurking in the background and rearing their ugly head from time to time (always at the worst times, it seems). Basically I've been choosing anger over any alternative, and I cannot continue to function this way.
So, I'm choosing to adopt the AA prayer as my mantra: Allow me to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I am choosing to release the festering mass to the atmosphere in a yogic exhale rather than continue to house Anger any longer. No Vacancy, buddy. An AA coin would be really helpful this week, something substantial I could finger in my pocket when my blood pressure begins to rise, a talisman to ward against Anger's insidiousness, a tangible reminder that there's no point in fretting the things I cannot change. Coin ornot, though, I must soldier on in my quest for sobriet. I must do this for my children, my students, and any unfortunate bystanders who've been on the receiving end of Anger's apperances as of late. Quest for acceptance, accepted, world.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
So THAT's what 3 a.m. looks like
The hectic pace from my wedding weekend has not slowed, but I've got time to kill "watching" the kids (Norah is playing a game on her Leapster and Levi is pulling everything out of her bookshelf) so I thought I'd mentally purge some of the chaos. Tuesday and Wednesday marked my first auditions as play director. I'd been advertising for a couple of weeks and fielding questions regarding monologues (What's a monologue? What do I do with one?), but I had no true expectation of what the turn-out would be like. Luckily, I was pleasantly surprised. Fifteen or so students performed for me Tuesday, and another 20 yesterday. Their enthusiasm and dedication were so nice to see. I see hundreds of students filter through my classroom each day, and it can be easy to feel discouraged at the lack of interest or work. Seeing dozens of students prepare EXTRA work for an outside activity gave me a boost of "So this is why I do what I do!" I'm still hammering out the casting process (more of a puzzle than I could have imagined) but the official list will be tacked up outside my room by 7:15 tomorrow morning. My mentor advised hanging it up and them promptly locking my door to avoid tears and questions. While that's not normally my style, I can't say I'm not considering it. Luckily, there are a lot of roles for this adaptation, so even the less than stellar auditions can yield a small speaking part. I'm excited to see them tackle their lines and watch as the story comes together. I'll definitely keep you posted on that wild aspect of my life!
My fellow blogger Angela (check out her funny, thoughtful posts here) lamented recently about the immense pressure we feel this semester. The only noticeable difference is the heightened focus on formative and summative assessments (let's be honest--they're pre and post tests and few English teachers enjoy them), but it feels as though the stress load has at least quadrupled this year. I find myself thinking of a better way to present lessons while I'm trying to sleep at night. I'm worrying over modeling thesis statement writing while I play with Levi. It's like I can't as easily compartmentalize my job and my life anymore. I'm hoping once the first semester of the new evaluation system is under my belt I'll find my groove, but this breakneck pace is definitely taking its toll on me.
What doesn't help is my son's newfound night owl tendencies. I don't actually know if I can call it a habit yet, as last night was the first occurence, but it was a doozy. Levi woke up at 1:30, which he occasionally does to eat, so I made him a bottle and prepared to head back to bed within 10 minutes. An hour and another bottle later I realized that wasn't happening. So, 2:30 a.m saw me driving around downtown La Porte with my kid in tow. It was almost eerie how dead the streets were. I don't know why I assumed more people would be out and about at that time, but I was shocked to pass only two vehicles. I did see a couple walking hand in hand down the middle of State St. (leaving one of our many bars, I presume) and I got an up-close view of the street crew tearing up the median at the bottom of the overpass. I also noticed lights on in houses--I was trying to guess whether they were left on for an animal or for safety purposes or if an inhabitant happened to be awake like me. Once I reached my neighborhood again I saw a man pulling his SUV into his garage and I started making up a story about his work schedule and how he finds time to play with his sons (none of this had any basis except he was parking at 3 a.m.) The whole thing was bizarre and then turned voyeuristic, but the writer (and ex-spy) in me kind of enjoyed it.
We got home, baby silent, Mom thinking her trip did the trick, but then.... eyeballs. He was wide awake enjoying the drive as well. We ended up watching television until 5 when I was able to put him in his crib and grab an hour of sleep in bed before getting up and rushing into my day. Long story short (well, not short at all, I see) I was a bit frazzled and at a loss for words today. My students said I was "hyper," so I guess I muddled through OK. I so desperately wanted a nap this afternoon, but the hubs wasn't home. Now it's time for dinner, and then I'm off to the READ La Porte County Scrabble tournament to dominate with my partner, Ben. Dominate is used loosely here, because the last two years we got spanked by people who have memorized the Scrabble dictionary and can think as fast as machines. It's always a fun night, though, losing aside.
Hopefully I'm not mauled by disappointed actors tomorrow and I can report on a triumphant triple word score. Wishful thinking!
My fellow blogger Angela (check out her funny, thoughtful posts here) lamented recently about the immense pressure we feel this semester. The only noticeable difference is the heightened focus on formative and summative assessments (let's be honest--they're pre and post tests and few English teachers enjoy them), but it feels as though the stress load has at least quadrupled this year. I find myself thinking of a better way to present lessons while I'm trying to sleep at night. I'm worrying over modeling thesis statement writing while I play with Levi. It's like I can't as easily compartmentalize my job and my life anymore. I'm hoping once the first semester of the new evaluation system is under my belt I'll find my groove, but this breakneck pace is definitely taking its toll on me.
What doesn't help is my son's newfound night owl tendencies. I don't actually know if I can call it a habit yet, as last night was the first occurence, but it was a doozy. Levi woke up at 1:30, which he occasionally does to eat, so I made him a bottle and prepared to head back to bed within 10 minutes. An hour and another bottle later I realized that wasn't happening. So, 2:30 a.m saw me driving around downtown La Porte with my kid in tow. It was almost eerie how dead the streets were. I don't know why I assumed more people would be out and about at that time, but I was shocked to pass only two vehicles. I did see a couple walking hand in hand down the middle of State St. (leaving one of our many bars, I presume) and I got an up-close view of the street crew tearing up the median at the bottom of the overpass. I also noticed lights on in houses--I was trying to guess whether they were left on for an animal or for safety purposes or if an inhabitant happened to be awake like me. Once I reached my neighborhood again I saw a man pulling his SUV into his garage and I started making up a story about his work schedule and how he finds time to play with his sons (none of this had any basis except he was parking at 3 a.m.) The whole thing was bizarre and then turned voyeuristic, but the writer (and ex-spy) in me kind of enjoyed it.
We got home, baby silent, Mom thinking her trip did the trick, but then.... eyeballs. He was wide awake enjoying the drive as well. We ended up watching television until 5 when I was able to put him in his crib and grab an hour of sleep in bed before getting up and rushing into my day. Long story short (well, not short at all, I see) I was a bit frazzled and at a loss for words today. My students said I was "hyper," so I guess I muddled through OK. I so desperately wanted a nap this afternoon, but the hubs wasn't home. Now it's time for dinner, and then I'm off to the READ La Porte County Scrabble tournament to dominate with my partner, Ben. Dominate is used loosely here, because the last two years we got spanked by people who have memorized the Scrabble dictionary and can think as fast as machines. It's always a fun night, though, losing aside.
Hopefully I'm not mauled by disappointed actors tomorrow and I can report on a triumphant triple word score. Wishful thinking!
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Happily ever after
The last four days have been a blur--I was in two weddings, which means two preparations and two celebrations. Today, then, is one much-deserved relaxation. More than that, though, it's a chance to reflect on the meaning of what I was a part of.
I was blessed this weekend to witness two breathtaking ceremonies (one an intimate, candle-lit affair with more joy and love than I've ever felt before, the other a family and friend-filled union with laughter and fun) between four people I care about immensely. My best friend Leslie married the love of her life in a rather sudden but all-the-more perfect ceremony at their church in Columbus, Indiana Thursday night. I took a half-day at school so I could make it down in time to help her get ready, and I'd already taken Friday off to help bride number 2 (Alex) set up her reception site. Thursday, I stood next to Leslie, proud, in awe of the love she and Jared share, overjoyed that I could support them as they promised to love one another through sickness and health, and I felt God's presence like never before. He and his angels made this union possible; every detail fell into place, from the "wedding fairies" setting up the site and having a gorgeous cake made in one day to the dress shop letting Leslie in after hours to find a dress that made all of us gasp. Their wedding was a proclamation of pure love--they want nothing more than to be together and to enjoy every moment to its fullest. The bride and groom literally beamed the entire time, theirs the only dry eyes in the house, and just like the Grinch, everyone felt their hearts grow two sizes that day as we watched the Rudes become one. A doctor's visit with some scary news pushed the wedding date up, and that weighed on everyone, but the wedding itself was a celebration, and I don't think it could have been any more perfect. Leslie deserves someone to adore her, and Jared does just that. It's undoubtable that they were made for one another. When the pastor said, "May your sorrows be halved and your happiness doubled because you have each other" I was reminded of exactly why we marry. A spouse is the true meaning of a partner, and though there are no guarantees about how much time we have with those we love, marriage allows us to be joined as partners forever.
Alex and Ben's ceremony was perfect in a totally different way. They have been a solid couple in our group of friends for years, a constant at gatherings, vacations, parties. Zach and I met at their house, and without them our marriage and family wouldn't exist. Doc and Alex, as everyone calls them, are one of those couples who make it look effortless. They're comfortable. There's no drama, just a feeling of easiness. They are the best and most loyal friends we could have asked for, and we were honored to be a part of the Martinsen wedding par-tay.
The priest's words were, for lack of a better word, honest. He made me analyze how I approach my own marriage, and I was reminded of the fact that I made a promise to Zach when I said "I do." I don't get to quit when things get tough. I gave my word that I would work at this thing, that I'd be honest and forgiving and his partner even when I don't want to be. The priest said that in those moments when we question why we're married or how the union can continue we should realize that God is sending us a message that we need to reflect His love more in that moment. Every disagreement or lull in the romance is a chance for us to reassess how we contribute to or do a disservice to the partnership. I was struck by the honesty of the sermon and felt encouraged that it isn't always supposed to be perfect, but the love behind the marriage still is.
I'm left feeling grateful that I have found such a giving partner to share this life with, inspired to embrace the blessings of each day and focus on the positives, and humbled by the paths handed to us that we cannot understand. Love is priceless, and I want nothing more than for everyone I love to feel its power the way Jared, Leslie, Alex, and Ben now get to. Here's to their (and your) happily ever after.
I was blessed this weekend to witness two breathtaking ceremonies (one an intimate, candle-lit affair with more joy and love than I've ever felt before, the other a family and friend-filled union with laughter and fun) between four people I care about immensely. My best friend Leslie married the love of her life in a rather sudden but all-the-more perfect ceremony at their church in Columbus, Indiana Thursday night. I took a half-day at school so I could make it down in time to help her get ready, and I'd already taken Friday off to help bride number 2 (Alex) set up her reception site. Thursday, I stood next to Leslie, proud, in awe of the love she and Jared share, overjoyed that I could support them as they promised to love one another through sickness and health, and I felt God's presence like never before. He and his angels made this union possible; every detail fell into place, from the "wedding fairies" setting up the site and having a gorgeous cake made in one day to the dress shop letting Leslie in after hours to find a dress that made all of us gasp. Their wedding was a proclamation of pure love--they want nothing more than to be together and to enjoy every moment to its fullest. The bride and groom literally beamed the entire time, theirs the only dry eyes in the house, and just like the Grinch, everyone felt their hearts grow two sizes that day as we watched the Rudes become one. A doctor's visit with some scary news pushed the wedding date up, and that weighed on everyone, but the wedding itself was a celebration, and I don't think it could have been any more perfect. Leslie deserves someone to adore her, and Jared does just that. It's undoubtable that they were made for one another. When the pastor said, "May your sorrows be halved and your happiness doubled because you have each other" I was reminded of exactly why we marry. A spouse is the true meaning of a partner, and though there are no guarantees about how much time we have with those we love, marriage allows us to be joined as partners forever.
Alex and Ben's ceremony was perfect in a totally different way. They have been a solid couple in our group of friends for years, a constant at gatherings, vacations, parties. Zach and I met at their house, and without them our marriage and family wouldn't exist. Doc and Alex, as everyone calls them, are one of those couples who make it look effortless. They're comfortable. There's no drama, just a feeling of easiness. They are the best and most loyal friends we could have asked for, and we were honored to be a part of the Martinsen wedding par-tay.
The priest's words were, for lack of a better word, honest. He made me analyze how I approach my own marriage, and I was reminded of the fact that I made a promise to Zach when I said "I do." I don't get to quit when things get tough. I gave my word that I would work at this thing, that I'd be honest and forgiving and his partner even when I don't want to be. The priest said that in those moments when we question why we're married or how the union can continue we should realize that God is sending us a message that we need to reflect His love more in that moment. Every disagreement or lull in the romance is a chance for us to reassess how we contribute to or do a disservice to the partnership. I was struck by the honesty of the sermon and felt encouraged that it isn't always supposed to be perfect, but the love behind the marriage still is.
I'm left feeling grateful that I have found such a giving partner to share this life with, inspired to embrace the blessings of each day and focus on the positives, and humbled by the paths handed to us that we cannot understand. Love is priceless, and I want nothing more than for everyone I love to feel its power the way Jared, Leslie, Alex, and Ben now get to. Here's to their (and your) happily ever after.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Directions
Well hello, blog readers. How have you been these last few weeks? Mama Wild has been very busy and probably very lazy, explaining my absence from the blogosphere as of late. Things in the Wild household are just dandy. Norah is thriving in kindergarten and loving cheerleading (although at times she thinks it's ruining her life, like when she couldn't get the glitter tattoo she wanted at a recent festival or when she has to go to bed early on a weekend night). Levi has started babbling what sound like words (Mamamama or baba or Dadada) and he is thisclose to walking. He's also turning into a giant flirt. Last night I took him with me to a high school volleyball game to support my students and their coach, my coworker. He was hamming it up big time with all of the girls around us, particularly another baby, Kate. Future romance in the works? I think we have a lady killer on our hands.
Zach and I are coming up on our second wedding anniversary, and unlike last year, when Mama was 8 months pregnant, we shall CELEBRATE! I don't know what we're doing yet, but the surprise-lover in me is waiting with bated breath. The realist side of me knows that Mr. Wild isn't huge on surprises, or planning, so she is waiting with a normal level of anticipation. A few days after our anniversary our friends Doc and Alex are getting married, and we're both in the wedding. We met at their house a few years ago at Alex's birthday party (an 80's themed costume party, to be exact) and they have always been amazing friends. September is shaping up to be a great month already!
Our Labor Day weekend was filled with plenty of family time. We took the kids to the Blueberry Festival in Plymouth, our first time, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The fresh blueberry donuts are more than worth the wait. Norah had a game, we took her bike out a few times (she's working on her speed these days), and she and I created my very first Pinterest craft, a wreath for our front door. It was fun to work on it together, and I'm pretty proud of the outcome.
In school news, I am officially the director of the fall play! I found this out today, by happenstance, so now I'm thinking crap, I better get to planning. I've been perusing playbook listings since I applied for the position, but with more of a curious eye as to what's out there. I have little theater experience, but I know I can put a lot of hard work into this and help my students put on a stellar show. I'll document the experience as I figure out what the heck I'm doing.
With fall's unofficial arrival this week, I plugged in Glade's new Maple Pumpkin scent (divine) and am DYING for a pumpkin spice latte from Starbuck's. I've also started planning the kids' Halloween costumes and am brainstorming for Levi's first birthday party. I cannot believe he's old enough for that to even be on the horizon, but it is. He is becoming a little boy more and more each day. I'm definitely holding on to baby phase for as long as I can.
I've got grading to do (I always have grading to do, though, let's be honest) and I promised myself a date with Powercut at the Y. I'm also halfway through an amazing novel, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, and I can't seem to put it down. I also have a baby to snuggle, so I must be off. Stay tuned for theater travails and triumphs--I'm sure it'll be wild!
Zach and I are coming up on our second wedding anniversary, and unlike last year, when Mama was 8 months pregnant, we shall CELEBRATE! I don't know what we're doing yet, but the surprise-lover in me is waiting with bated breath. The realist side of me knows that Mr. Wild isn't huge on surprises, or planning, so she is waiting with a normal level of anticipation. A few days after our anniversary our friends Doc and Alex are getting married, and we're both in the wedding. We met at their house a few years ago at Alex's birthday party (an 80's themed costume party, to be exact) and they have always been amazing friends. September is shaping up to be a great month already!
Our Labor Day weekend was filled with plenty of family time. We took the kids to the Blueberry Festival in Plymouth, our first time, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The fresh blueberry donuts are more than worth the wait. Norah had a game, we took her bike out a few times (she's working on her speed these days), and she and I created my very first Pinterest craft, a wreath for our front door. It was fun to work on it together, and I'm pretty proud of the outcome.
In school news, I am officially the director of the fall play! I found this out today, by happenstance, so now I'm thinking crap, I better get to planning. I've been perusing playbook listings since I applied for the position, but with more of a curious eye as to what's out there. I have little theater experience, but I know I can put a lot of hard work into this and help my students put on a stellar show. I'll document the experience as I figure out what the heck I'm doing.
With fall's unofficial arrival this week, I plugged in Glade's new Maple Pumpkin scent (divine) and am DYING for a pumpkin spice latte from Starbuck's. I've also started planning the kids' Halloween costumes and am brainstorming for Levi's first birthday party. I cannot believe he's old enough for that to even be on the horizon, but it is. He is becoming a little boy more and more each day. I'm definitely holding on to baby phase for as long as I can.
I've got grading to do (I always have grading to do, though, let's be honest) and I promised myself a date with Powercut at the Y. I'm also halfway through an amazing novel, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, and I can't seem to put it down. I also have a baby to snuggle, so I must be off. Stay tuned for theater travails and triumphs--I'm sure it'll be wild!
Thursday, August 16, 2012
All about perspective
Day three of my third year of teaching, and about time I got back to the blog. The lead-up to this school year was more frenetic than usual; Norah started Pop Warner cheerleading, and on top of the typical back to school preparation I wanted to squeeze in as much last-minute summer fun as possible. Pretty much as a rule I put a lot of pressure on myself. Pressure to be on top of every detail in my family's life, pressure to constantly challenge myself, improve who I am, keep up with whomever. I added pressure this summer with goals of achieving/doing/seeing/creating more than I have in the past. We did have a great summer--bike rides, swimming, our Colorado trip, a visit to a waterpark, and so on. I did start the blog I'd wanted to. I did cook more often (though my once weekly new recipe plan did not pan out as I'd hoped.) I kind of worked out regularly. I did better at keeping in touch with friends and family. Overall, I'd chalk the summer of 2012 up to a success. Norah went to the dentist for the first time (no tears!), she had to get four shots in one visit (no tears again!), and Levi started crawling and got his first tooth. I've been lucky enough to land a new freelance writing position (yay!) and am looking into other side options for both financial and personal reasons. I'm also considering taking on the school's theater program. I know how important this program is to many of my students, and while I have little experience in that realm, I think I could step up and do a great job for the kids. We'll see where that goes.
With the start of a new school year, I've been reassessing. My wardrobe (some days I just absolutely have nothing to wear!), my free time (how to spend it most effectively), my bedtime (it's never early enough), and my psyche have all come under the microscope as of late. Most disconcerting has been the latter. I'm hopeful that the general sense of anxiety I feel is due to all of the newness around me and will soon fade, but I worry that a dark cloud appearing so early in the school year is a harbinger of worse things to come. It's possible that I'm merely adjusting to leaving Levi after so much time together. It's also possible (very possible) that I'm psyching myself out preemptively regarding the new teacher evaluation system soon to be implemented. I'm doing my best not to add to my anxiety by worrying about feeling anxious, but true to form, I cannot turn off my brain. Similarly, I cannot turn off the self-conscious meter that returned with my 120 high schoolers. Every pair of eyes feels like it's scrutinizing my every move, word, and clothing choice. We're still working out our kinks and getting to know each other, but man do I feel on display. I thought feeling like everyone is looking at you is a phase of adolescent development, so unless I'm turning into my students, something is off. Then I get on the guilt train and tell myself, "There are people in your community truly suffering, yet you can't stop thinking of your tiny problems and turn your perspective outward. Grow up." (My internal monologue is not usually that mean, but for the sake of being concise, I paraphrased.) I don't know when or how I'll truly find the confidence I claim to have. I had a conversation last night with a business owner, and she reminded me that when you invest yourself in your work, you never rest on your laurels. Maybe my insecurities stem from feeling like I could always be doing better in my job, as a wife, and as a mother. I just wonder when I'll finally cut myself some slack.
Any perspective on tackling this?
With the start of a new school year, I've been reassessing. My wardrobe (some days I just absolutely have nothing to wear!), my free time (how to spend it most effectively), my bedtime (it's never early enough), and my psyche have all come under the microscope as of late. Most disconcerting has been the latter. I'm hopeful that the general sense of anxiety I feel is due to all of the newness around me and will soon fade, but I worry that a dark cloud appearing so early in the school year is a harbinger of worse things to come. It's possible that I'm merely adjusting to leaving Levi after so much time together. It's also possible (very possible) that I'm psyching myself out preemptively regarding the new teacher evaluation system soon to be implemented. I'm doing my best not to add to my anxiety by worrying about feeling anxious, but true to form, I cannot turn off my brain. Similarly, I cannot turn off the self-conscious meter that returned with my 120 high schoolers. Every pair of eyes feels like it's scrutinizing my every move, word, and clothing choice. We're still working out our kinks and getting to know each other, but man do I feel on display. I thought feeling like everyone is looking at you is a phase of adolescent development, so unless I'm turning into my students, something is off. Then I get on the guilt train and tell myself, "There are people in your community truly suffering, yet you can't stop thinking of your tiny problems and turn your perspective outward. Grow up." (My internal monologue is not usually that mean, but for the sake of being concise, I paraphrased.) I don't know when or how I'll truly find the confidence I claim to have. I had a conversation last night with a business owner, and she reminded me that when you invest yourself in your work, you never rest on your laurels. Maybe my insecurities stem from feeling like I could always be doing better in my job, as a wife, and as a mother. I just wonder when I'll finally cut myself some slack.
Any perspective on tackling this?
Friday, August 3, 2012
Neon
So I have a hangover. From two Cactus cups. That is downright embarrassing. My sojourn to Boilermaker territory last night was fabulous, however, so today's headache can suck it. Angela graciously agreed to venture with me to the Cactus, Purdue's piano bar/Indiana's largest dance club, and off we went! Getting out of the county was a bit of a struggle (stubbed two toes within two minutes and hit my head on my car door upon departure; sat at the pay window at McDonald's drive thru for an awkwardly long time before I realized there was a separate pick-up window; dropped a melty orange M&M on my white tank; and nearly collided with an SUV who turned into my lane) but the rest of our drive was filled with great conversation. When we reached West Lafayette we parked and headed onto campus for some sightseeing. I was in serious dork mode--I could have teared up looking at nearly every building I'd been in or hill I'd laid on. I honestly felt a sense of warmth for the nasty Union couches on which I used to nap between classes.
Anyway, we stopped for a few pictures (see below) and then met up with Kaveh, an amazing poet who student taught in our department this year. We grabbed Thai food, got ready, and walked down to the Cactus. We promptly turned around and walked back because we'd forgotten the two forms of I.D. rule. We found that ironic because we were maybe the oldest people in the bar, but the doorman was a stickler for rules. Lame. Once validated and inside, we rocked out to Piano Man Bruce, sat a few tables away from some Boilermaker basketball players (Robbie Hummel and Chris Kramer, to namedrop a couple), and had silly, college fun. We also spent some time on the dance floor, my home away from home. I like to think I'm a good dancer, but even if I'm not, put some good music on and you will find me shaking my tailfeather, getting my groove on, and a third reference for symmetry sake that I cannot think of right now. Angela and I have both mastered the art of dancing away from people we don't want to dance with, so with no creepers attached we laughed and bounced around and attempted to learn the wobble. I don't know where I've been for the last two years but it seemed like everyone in the club but me knew the moves. I'm working on it for my next dance club outing. I'm sure Zach will be thrilled. **Sarcasm**
Then we ventured up to campus for a Green Dragon at Harry's. I don't particularly like Green Dragons (melon liquer among other things) but it felt like a very Purdue way to end the night. There, next to the popcorn machine, we ran into some Sigma Chi guys we'd met earlier in the night. A giant conference was going on with representation from fraternities across the nation, so there were even more dudes than usual at Purdue. The two gentlemen by the popcorn were very friendly. Earlier, one of them (Jordan) had taught me to shag. Before you think I went all Kristen Stewart on my husband, rest assured. This type of shagging was done on the dance floor to southern music. Alex, the other gentleman, was nursing an amicable breakup with the girl he loves. Angela and I made it our mission at Harry's to find Jordan a girl and keep Alex from getting sad about his. Angela concocted a back story that we were two pairs of siblings, Jordan and I and she and Alex, all four of us were cousins, and I was in town interviewing for a new teaching position. Quite convoluted, but a sweet girl celebrating her 21st totally bought it and thought we were very nice sisters to be hanging out with our bros at a bar.
We made it safely back to Kaveh's for a short sleep before heading back home to return to our busy adult lives. It was a short but incredibly sweet walk down memory lane, a night to just have fun and make memories, and I am so happy we made the trip. I also relearned the chant piano bar patrons scream at someone caught texting. Sadly, there are zero words in the chant suitable for use in my classroom.
The next week is chock full to the brim of things to do. Cheerleading, dentist, parents' anniversary, waterpark, school prep, school prep, school prep. I'm tired just thinking about it all! And, I'm still hungover.
Anyway, we stopped for a few pictures (see below) and then met up with Kaveh, an amazing poet who student taught in our department this year. We grabbed Thai food, got ready, and walked down to the Cactus. We promptly turned around and walked back because we'd forgotten the two forms of I.D. rule. We found that ironic because we were maybe the oldest people in the bar, but the doorman was a stickler for rules. Lame. Once validated and inside, we rocked out to Piano Man Bruce, sat a few tables away from some Boilermaker basketball players (Robbie Hummel and Chris Kramer, to namedrop a couple), and had silly, college fun. We also spent some time on the dance floor, my home away from home. I like to think I'm a good dancer, but even if I'm not, put some good music on and you will find me shaking my tailfeather, getting my groove on, and a third reference for symmetry sake that I cannot think of right now. Angela and I have both mastered the art of dancing away from people we don't want to dance with, so with no creepers attached we laughed and bounced around and attempted to learn the wobble. I don't know where I've been for the last two years but it seemed like everyone in the club but me knew the moves. I'm working on it for my next dance club outing. I'm sure Zach will be thrilled. **Sarcasm**
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| Purdue's Bell Tower |
We made it safely back to Kaveh's for a short sleep before heading back home to return to our busy adult lives. It was a short but incredibly sweet walk down memory lane, a night to just have fun and make memories, and I am so happy we made the trip. I also relearned the chant piano bar patrons scream at someone caught texting. Sadly, there are zero words in the chant suitable for use in my classroom.
The next week is chock full to the brim of things to do. Cheerleading, dentist, parents' anniversary, waterpark, school prep, school prep, school prep. I'm tired just thinking about it all! And, I'm still hungover.
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| Me naturally posed atop the Engineering Fountain |
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| Angela modeling ever so kindly for me |
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| Heavilon Hall, home of English majors and countless hours of my life, soon to be torn down. I almost stole something from one of the classrooms but thought better of it. |
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Levels of excitement
This is my life: Levi's second tooth popped through today! I am stupidly excited about things like that now. I discuss poop consistency, frequency, and color on the regular. I find myself talking in my special higher-pitched happy Levi voice to the animals, my husband, and occasionally inanimate objects like the stove. I don't know how I'll survive going back to school in a week and a half. My students are either going to get an insane amount of attention as I attempt to distract myself from missing him or they will get earfuls of silly baby stories that most of them won't appreciate. On the last day of school 8 weeks ago I gave each of my students a note card and asked them to write one piece of advice for my incoming sophomores. Some were funny, like "Don't be slutty,"while others were school related, like admonishing students to do their homework or actually read the work I assign. One of my favorites, though, was, "Listen to the stupid stories Mrs. Kanney tells you because you never know when she'll put one of them as an extra credit question on a quiz." Success.
I'm taking the little one to the park here in a few for a long walk with a coworker. Norah will be there for her first cheerleading practice, and I have every intention of scoping out her squad whilst looking nonchalant. We'll see if her grandparents, or Norah for that matter, catch on to me. I always joke that I used to be a spy (I spent several years of my life scribbling like a maniac and sneaking around to eavesdrop thanks to my obsession with Harriet the Spy) so I can probably pull this off.
Tomorrow I'm taking my friend Angela to Purdue. I am also stupidly excited about this, particularly because I will be introducing her to the wonder that is the Neon Cactus. Expect a hilarious blog about what we encounter there (probably the realization that we are too old to go to the Cactus, but whatever.) Boiler up!
I'm taking the little one to the park here in a few for a long walk with a coworker. Norah will be there for her first cheerleading practice, and I have every intention of scoping out her squad whilst looking nonchalant. We'll see if her grandparents, or Norah for that matter, catch on to me. I always joke that I used to be a spy (I spent several years of my life scribbling like a maniac and sneaking around to eavesdrop thanks to my obsession with Harriet the Spy) so I can probably pull this off.
Tomorrow I'm taking my friend Angela to Purdue. I am also stupidly excited about this, particularly because I will be introducing her to the wonder that is the Neon Cactus. Expect a hilarious blog about what we encounter there (probably the realization that we are too old to go to the Cactus, but whatever.) Boiler up!
Monday, July 30, 2012
Dreamland
Twenty-five years ago today I stopped being an only child and became a big sister. Happy birthday, Ryno! We had a lot of great times growing up. We shared a bedroom at our first house and would stay up late making human bridges between our beds. Then, when we moved, we created tree forts and Rollerblade ramps and tents out of Dad's paint tarps. For several years I was also really mean to him. I am not proud of who I was for that, and I can't explain it. Sibling rivalry/squabbles, but also truly mean sometimes. He was an easy target, being younger than me, and I guess it made me feel powerful. I hate having to admit that I gleaned power from putting someone else down, but I wasn't the best big sister sometimes. I try to make up for it now by encouraging him to find his path and follow his dreams. I've stopped calling him names, too, so there's that ;)
En route to the babysitter this morning Norah and I had a great conversation about dreams. I explained to her that our brains house all of our memories and information and that while we sleep random bits are thrown forward, making us dream. She had a nightmare about Scooby Doo, which we talked through a bit. I had a dream about a grungy biker guy (reminiscent of Justin Bobby from "The Hills") trying to kiss me. I kept that dream to myself.
I've always been fascinated with trying to deciper the meaning or cause behind dreams. I think our subconscious minds sort through a lot while we sleep; I try, when I can, to pause for a moment upon waking and remember as many details of my dreams as possible. Anxiety I didn't know was festering has been discovered this way; guilt, sadness, anticipation, or just plain nonsense can be determined, too. I don't know if last night's bad boy interlude signifies unsown oats (too late now... no biker boys for me!) or worry that I've done something for which I should apologize. Sometimes dreams are beyond our comprehension. I find that that fact makes them all the more powerful. Writers comb the world around them for inspiration, insight into the human character, a trigger for enlightenment. Dreams are an endless brainstorm for me, and I think I should start recording and sifting through them more often. Maybe a grungy Justin Bobby will figure in my to-be-written novel.
As the new school year approaches, I'm also beginning a new venture. I'm not ready to announce just yet as little to nothing has been accomplished, but encouragement and prayers are welcome. The new and unknown can be so scary and intimidating, but that's no reason to fight for what you want. I'm going after it, uncertainty and fear in tow. Hopefully I can remember to dance in the face of whatever obstacles come my way. In the immortal words of Maurice Sendak, "Let the wild rumpus begin!"
En route to the babysitter this morning Norah and I had a great conversation about dreams. I explained to her that our brains house all of our memories and information and that while we sleep random bits are thrown forward, making us dream. She had a nightmare about Scooby Doo, which we talked through a bit. I had a dream about a grungy biker guy (reminiscent of Justin Bobby from "The Hills") trying to kiss me. I kept that dream to myself.
I've always been fascinated with trying to deciper the meaning or cause behind dreams. I think our subconscious minds sort through a lot while we sleep; I try, when I can, to pause for a moment upon waking and remember as many details of my dreams as possible. Anxiety I didn't know was festering has been discovered this way; guilt, sadness, anticipation, or just plain nonsense can be determined, too. I don't know if last night's bad boy interlude signifies unsown oats (too late now... no biker boys for me!) or worry that I've done something for which I should apologize. Sometimes dreams are beyond our comprehension. I find that that fact makes them all the more powerful. Writers comb the world around them for inspiration, insight into the human character, a trigger for enlightenment. Dreams are an endless brainstorm for me, and I think I should start recording and sifting through them more often. Maybe a grungy Justin Bobby will figure in my to-be-written novel.
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| Justin Bobby... oddly similar to dream guy |
As the new school year approaches, I'm also beginning a new venture. I'm not ready to announce just yet as little to nothing has been accomplished, but encouragement and prayers are welcome. The new and unknown can be so scary and intimidating, but that's no reason to fight for what you want. I'm going after it, uncertainty and fear in tow. Hopefully I can remember to dance in the face of whatever obstacles come my way. In the immortal words of Maurice Sendak, "Let the wild rumpus begin!"
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Tying the knot
Like the best-laid plans, my blogging endeavor has hit a major speedbump. I can't seem to find the time to sit down and type these days. Summer is winding down (but at full speed) and our calendar keeps getting fuller. Norah starts Pop Warner cheerleading practice this week, we've got back-to-school shopping to complete, and we're trying to cram in all of the outings and swims and fun summer activities we can before we're back to the grind. The last few weeks have been so hot that we haven't been able to do as much outdoors as we would have liked. I'vr been sans children so far today, so I took a towel and my book to the backyard for an hour of sun. I figured I'd better take advantage of my freedom while I could.
Levi stayed over at Grandma and Grandpa's last night, and they wanted to keep him through the morning to show him off at church. Norah road-tripped to Ohio with Zach's parents to take some family members home from a visit. When she called last night to say that they'd made it, she was giggling up a storm over the fact that they were belly-flopping on the bed.
The kiddos were off on their sleepovers so Zach and I could go to a wedding on the lake in our hometown for two of our friends from high school. It was absolutely beautiful. The weather was PERFECT, with a gorgeous sunset and just the right amount of chill once the stars came out. The food and drinks were quite good, there was a marimba player and a DJ, an awesome fireworks show, and paper lanterns for the guests to light and release into the night sky. I especially enjoyed that because it reminded me of Disney's "Tangled", one of the Wild family favorites. My husband's favorite? The Patron fountain. That's right, folks, Patron was literally flowing. He had to wipe a tear from his eye before he thrust his cup under one of the holy streams. Most importantly, it was a lovely evening celebrating a lovely couple.
One of my favorite parts of attending weddings is listening to the vows. I do's are a reminder of the promises the hubs and I made, and hearing them again sort of slows down the chaos of life for a moment and brings me back to what really matters--love. Marriage doesn't equal perfection. Marriage is a choice that must be made over and over and over, and it's not always an easy one. Vows remind me that though marriage is sometimes more work than pleasure, it's good work, the kind of work that creates memories and children and safety and a sense of finally being whole. Last night's wedding may have resembled "Tangled", but there is no fairy tale. There's only the joining of two imperfect souls working toward some type of peaceful imperfection together.
I'm going to make an effort to blog more frequently (I don't want to say every day because then inevitably that wouldn't happen) and to focus more on others rather than myself. There's so much negativity in the world right now and I'd like to do my part to spread some joy.
If you're married, go tell your spouse something sweet. Make the work a little lighter today.
Levi stayed over at Grandma and Grandpa's last night, and they wanted to keep him through the morning to show him off at church. Norah road-tripped to Ohio with Zach's parents to take some family members home from a visit. When she called last night to say that they'd made it, she was giggling up a storm over the fact that they were belly-flopping on the bed.
The kiddos were off on their sleepovers so Zach and I could go to a wedding on the lake in our hometown for two of our friends from high school. It was absolutely beautiful. The weather was PERFECT, with a gorgeous sunset and just the right amount of chill once the stars came out. The food and drinks were quite good, there was a marimba player and a DJ, an awesome fireworks show, and paper lanterns for the guests to light and release into the night sky. I especially enjoyed that because it reminded me of Disney's "Tangled", one of the Wild family favorites. My husband's favorite? The Patron fountain. That's right, folks, Patron was literally flowing. He had to wipe a tear from his eye before he thrust his cup under one of the holy streams. Most importantly, it was a lovely evening celebrating a lovely couple.
One of my favorite parts of attending weddings is listening to the vows. I do's are a reminder of the promises the hubs and I made, and hearing them again sort of slows down the chaos of life for a moment and brings me back to what really matters--love. Marriage doesn't equal perfection. Marriage is a choice that must be made over and over and over, and it's not always an easy one. Vows remind me that though marriage is sometimes more work than pleasure, it's good work, the kind of work that creates memories and children and safety and a sense of finally being whole. Last night's wedding may have resembled "Tangled", but there is no fairy tale. There's only the joining of two imperfect souls working toward some type of peaceful imperfection together.
I'm going to make an effort to blog more frequently (I don't want to say every day because then inevitably that wouldn't happen) and to focus more on others rather than myself. There's so much negativity in the world right now and I'd like to do my part to spread some joy.
If you're married, go tell your spouse something sweet. Make the work a little lighter today.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Colorado part deux
See the previous post if you want to get caught up on the beginning of our recent Colorado trip. Before we left downtown Denver, we stumbled upon the Firefighter Museum. Zach totally geeked out over the old trucks, tools, and uniforms. It was really neat to see photographs of giant factory fires from the early 1900's and read stories of how the fire alarm we know today came to be. A group of preschoolers were there for a birthday party, all donning fire boots, coats, and helmets, and they were LOVING all of the equipment. It was neat to learn about the history of the profession, and to spend an hour away from the 95 degree heat. Zach grabbed a Denver FD shirt on our way out and we headed to the hotel.
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| Wedding location |
We stayed in Lone Tree, Colorado, at an Extended Stay hotel with a small kitchenette. Not a bad way to spend a long weekend, and the area was quite ritzy--lots of restaurants and giant houses on golf courses. After meeting the bride and groom and their families, we headed to a nearby park for the wedding rehearsal and then went to Thai Basil for a delicious rehearsal dinner. It was so great to get to know everyone a bit better. I could really see why Zach became such great friends with the guys in Afghanistan. It had been nearly seven years since they'd seen each other, but they were caught up and cracking jokes within minutes. They all seemed giddy to be together again. We've already discussed making an annual get-together a must.
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| Wedding party and my ever-appropriate husband |
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| The Army buddies and the officiant just before the ceremony. Zach took a lot of flak for the shorts/boat shoes combo, but I think he looks rather dapper. |
The wedding was at Chatfield State Park near the reservoir. Foothills were visible in the distance underneath a giant western sky. It was hot during the ceremony, but the winds came in and cooled us off for the delicious barbecue dinner and pie.
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| Zach on our way down from 11,000 feet |
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| View of the last mile of Fall River Road |
Our last day in Colorado was spent perusing the giant mall near our hotel and catching an afternoon showing of "Savages" before heading to the airport. It was a completely wonderful trip full of great finds and sightseeing, new friends, and some alone time for the Wild couple.
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| Alluvial Fan |
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| Donning my must-buy hoodie! |
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| Mr. Moose! |
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| Denver's courthouse |
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| A locker at the Firefighter's Museum |
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Colorado catch-up #1
I'm back! What a wonderful trip. This was the first time Zach and I have gone anywhere sans children since our honeymoon, and I think having a baby made us appreciate this trip even more than our honeymoon, actually. We flew out of Chicago Midway Thursday morning on a 5:55 flight to Denver. Back up a few hours (12 to be exact) and that's when our trip really began.
We dropped Norah off to her mom after a fun afternoon at the La Porte County Fair. Norah loves getting her face painted, even though she usually scratches or washes the paint off within an hour, so we let her go for broke and get this:
Then we packed up the car with pretty much everything Jeff and Holly could need to watch Levi (including a stroller, baby bath, exersaucer, bottles, formula, food, snacks, toys, books, clothes,Tylenol and Orajel, swim diapers, regular diapers, wipes, blankets, and carseat), Levi himself, and Pippa, because she was heading to the farm for the week, too. Upon reaching Jeff and Holly's we realized that we'd forgotten one item: the pack and play. For those of you without children, this is essential. It's like a travel crib. For a kid who can crawl being contained during sleep time is a must. I already felt guilty about disrupting his routine and making him sleep in a strange place, but to forget the actual bed? Fail. (To be fair, packing the pack and play was Zach's job. I had packed and set EVERYTHING else by the front door for him to load and had asked him to grab the pack and play out of the basement storage room. Being the control-freak that I am, however, I still took the blame for not double-checking my mental list before we took off.) Luckily, Holly wanted Dairy Queen, which required a trip into town anyway, so we left them our house key and took off. We stopped at Panera for dinner before continuing to the Midway Park, Ride, and Fly lot. Upon arriving at Midway around 9:30 p.m. we were told that 1) you cannot check into a Southwest flight more than 4 hours before the flight and 2) the counter is closed during the night and doesn't reopen until 4 a.m. This meant we had 6 1/2 hours to kill in the departures area. No carpet, no soft chairs, no real food. It was my idea to fend for ourselves in the airport and find adventures, but I imagined sleeping and eating as a part of said adventures. Before I could start stressing out, we heard a live band playing patriotic music and headed toward it. Turns out a flight containing nearly 100 WWII Navy vets was landing and countless Patriot Riders and family members had turned up with flags to welcome them in. We stood near the Chicago Fire Department bagpipe band and watched as each veteran was wheeled by. A handful walked, and one adorable man did a little jig as he passed us. It was incredibly moving--the music, the crowds applauding, and those who had served our country 50 years ago combined for a magical experience. I teared up as Zach took pictures and clapped. It was a wonderful way to spend our first hour as airport campers.
We spent the rest of the night alternating reading, cat-napping, walking around, and random yoga-ing (that was my 2:30 contribution.) Our flght went smoothly and we headed to downtown Denver for a few hours before meeting up with Zach's friend Dan for the wedding rehearsal. We'd decided to try as many new places as we could, so our first mission was to find a non-Starbucks coffee shop. Then we wandered toward the courthouse and city-center where we stumbled upon something we've never seen in northwest Indiana--food trucks! Each Tuesday and Thursday around 40-50 specialty food trucks head to the center for a couple of hours. People head over during their lunch breaks and try things like Argentinian BBQ, crock pot meals, fancy food on sticks, pulled pork, and ice cream (to name only a few!) We chose the Denver Cupcake Truck and snagged their specialty that week, bacon-chocolate, as well as a lemon curd cupcake for me. The salty-sweet combo of former was quite good, but it was really heavy on the chocolate. The lemon cupcake was quite possibly the best cupcake I have ever had. That fest is just one of the things that made Zach and I wish we could move to Denver.
I'll chronicle the rest of our trip in my next post. It's so great having Levi around again, and Norah is here for the next four days, so I'm going to go enjoy my kiddos and maybe hit the gym. It's good to be home :)
We dropped Norah off to her mom after a fun afternoon at the La Porte County Fair. Norah loves getting her face painted, even though she usually scratches or washes the paint off within an hour, so we let her go for broke and get this:
Then we packed up the car with pretty much everything Jeff and Holly could need to watch Levi (including a stroller, baby bath, exersaucer, bottles, formula, food, snacks, toys, books, clothes,Tylenol and Orajel, swim diapers, regular diapers, wipes, blankets, and carseat), Levi himself, and Pippa, because she was heading to the farm for the week, too. Upon reaching Jeff and Holly's we realized that we'd forgotten one item: the pack and play. For those of you without children, this is essential. It's like a travel crib. For a kid who can crawl being contained during sleep time is a must. I already felt guilty about disrupting his routine and making him sleep in a strange place, but to forget the actual bed? Fail. (To be fair, packing the pack and play was Zach's job. I had packed and set EVERYTHING else by the front door for him to load and had asked him to grab the pack and play out of the basement storage room. Being the control-freak that I am, however, I still took the blame for not double-checking my mental list before we took off.) Luckily, Holly wanted Dairy Queen, which required a trip into town anyway, so we left them our house key and took off. We stopped at Panera for dinner before continuing to the Midway Park, Ride, and Fly lot. Upon arriving at Midway around 9:30 p.m. we were told that 1) you cannot check into a Southwest flight more than 4 hours before the flight and 2) the counter is closed during the night and doesn't reopen until 4 a.m. This meant we had 6 1/2 hours to kill in the departures area. No carpet, no soft chairs, no real food. It was my idea to fend for ourselves in the airport and find adventures, but I imagined sleeping and eating as a part of said adventures. Before I could start stressing out, we heard a live band playing patriotic music and headed toward it. Turns out a flight containing nearly 100 WWII Navy vets was landing and countless Patriot Riders and family members had turned up with flags to welcome them in. We stood near the Chicago Fire Department bagpipe band and watched as each veteran was wheeled by. A handful walked, and one adorable man did a little jig as he passed us. It was incredibly moving--the music, the crowds applauding, and those who had served our country 50 years ago combined for a magical experience. I teared up as Zach took pictures and clapped. It was a wonderful way to spend our first hour as airport campers.
We spent the rest of the night alternating reading, cat-napping, walking around, and random yoga-ing (that was my 2:30 contribution.) Our flght went smoothly and we headed to downtown Denver for a few hours before meeting up with Zach's friend Dan for the wedding rehearsal. We'd decided to try as many new places as we could, so our first mission was to find a non-Starbucks coffee shop. Then we wandered toward the courthouse and city-center where we stumbled upon something we've never seen in northwest Indiana--food trucks! Each Tuesday and Thursday around 40-50 specialty food trucks head to the center for a couple of hours. People head over during their lunch breaks and try things like Argentinian BBQ, crock pot meals, fancy food on sticks, pulled pork, and ice cream (to name only a few!) We chose the Denver Cupcake Truck and snagged their specialty that week, bacon-chocolate, as well as a lemon curd cupcake for me. The salty-sweet combo of former was quite good, but it was really heavy on the chocolate. The lemon cupcake was quite possibly the best cupcake I have ever had. That fest is just one of the things that made Zach and I wish we could move to Denver.
 |
| A fogged-lens view of some of the food trucks in downtown Denver |
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Wild child
Last night before bed, per our usual bedtime ritual, I read to Norah for a bit. She chose the old How Does it Work? book Zach had from his childhood. We read the page about magnets, electromagnets, and engines. Riveting stuff. We did touch on compasses, though, so today, when she and I took the dog for a long walk around the neighborhood, I decided we needed to apply that knowledge a bit to our make-believe. We found some woods between two streets and went on a survival mission through it. I asked her what she had in her survival pack, like a compass, matches, a canteen, food, tools, weapons, etc. She replied that she didn't have a pack because she's so resourceful she can scavenge and make all of those things herself using her environment. Damn. Still, though, it was fun to get away from the TV, use our imaginations a bit, and connect with the outdoors. I so badly wish we lived in the country sometimes. We stopped in the lawn of a factory on Whirlpool with incredibly lush, soft grass (how they avoided the draught the rest of us are facing I don't know.) We took our shoes off and ran around, and I told her that was exactly how I spent my childhood: barefoot and wild outside. I hope she can experience some of that wonder, as well.
The rest of the day we're doing stuff around the house. Norah and I just made glitter pen pictures, and when Levi wakes from his nap we're heading to Valpo to do some pre-trip shopping for things like allergy pills and sunscreen. Tomorrow night Zach and I are dropping off the children and heading to Chicago to camp out at the airport for our crack of dawn flight. I decided it'd be more economical, and more fun, to find adventures at O'Hare than to pay for a hotel room we'd only be in for a few hours. I'm really looking forward to some people watching, some magazine reading, and some awkward/uncomfortable dozing on the departures floor. Is that weird that I'm looking forward to something I described as awkward and uncomfortable? Anyway, when we return I'll post tons of pics from our time in the Rockies. Cannot wait to be out west! Check my facebook if you want to see some snapshots while we're there. As they say on "Looney Tunes," Bon Voyah-gee!
The rest of the day we're doing stuff around the house. Norah and I just made glitter pen pictures, and when Levi wakes from his nap we're heading to Valpo to do some pre-trip shopping for things like allergy pills and sunscreen. Tomorrow night Zach and I are dropping off the children and heading to Chicago to camp out at the airport for our crack of dawn flight. I decided it'd be more economical, and more fun, to find adventures at O'Hare than to pay for a hotel room we'd only be in for a few hours. I'm really looking forward to some people watching, some magazine reading, and some awkward/uncomfortable dozing on the departures floor. Is that weird that I'm looking forward to something I described as awkward and uncomfortable? Anyway, when we return I'll post tons of pics from our time in the Rockies. Cannot wait to be out west! Check my facebook if you want to see some snapshots while we're there. As they say on "Looney Tunes," Bon Voyah-gee!
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Where are you?
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about my location. I don't mean my literal location but rather my metaphorical place in life. My current landscape is a bit of a contradiction. On one hand, it's vastly different from where I imagined I'd be a few years ago. On the other hand, being a wife, mother, and high school teacher sums up the traditional future I was destined to hold. It kind of seems like the universe has a way of correcting your path. Like how they say we make plans and God laughs? It ended up not mattering where I thought I'd be because I ended up here anyway. The only thing that worries me is that I might let here define me. There's still a soul inside of me itching to be bigger, a me that's full of wanderlust and curiosity and dreams that cross oceans and cultures and titles like mom or wife or teacher.
This morning I sat over coffee for two hours catching up with an old friend. He and I connected in high school and college over writing and films and a sense that we were meant to be friends somehow. We live thousands of miles apart now, and lead two strikingly different lives, but that connection has not faded. He was in awe a little bit over the fact that I have a baby and a "real life," but in his next breath, however, he'd correct himself and say that it makes perfect sense. I like to think that when you live in the life you have, really settle in and become your true self, you bring a sense of peace. Friends have said that I'm surprisingly relaxed for a first-time mom, but I think it's because I've begun to embody this role. I no longer feel like I'm playacting as a wife and mother. I AM those things. Being a mom has become as much a part of me as being a blonde, as breathing or thinking or loving. I am where I'm supposed to be.
Where my terrain becomes uneven is with Norah. The ground of step-parenting is rocky and challenging and, to be honest, sometimes scary. I don't feel the same natural inclinations as I do with Levi. I question many of my decisions and reactions because there's another party to consider--Norah's mother. I don't want to step on any feet but yet the mama bear in me can't sit back and let things happen that she disagrees with. I want to fight for my husband's rights when he'd rather not rock the boat, and I want to insure that what's best for Norah is what's happening, regardless of which adult doesn't like it. Step-parenting can be tricky and unpleasant, and lately I've been filled with a lot of anger about the situation. I'm angry at how helpless I often feel (because, let's face it, as much as Zach treats me like his partner, the other side can discount me as "not real family" with a flippant remark and reduce me to an outsider). I'm angry that another woman will always be a part of my marriage, another woman that I don't always agree with when it comes to parenting but yet one I have to respect and work with for the benefit of our daughter. I'm angry that I've done everything I can to provide Norah with stability and structure and experiences and memories and yet that sometimes doesn't seem like enough. I know she's a child and doesn't do things on purpose, but when she'd rather be with her mother I can't help but take it personally sometimes. Mostly I'm angry at myself for how angry I am, for how much time and energy I let these worries and what ifs control. Where I am as a stepmom is atop a cliff made up of all my resentment and jealousy and fear, clinging to the edge with a sometimes tenuous grip, unsure if I should let go and just see what happens or hold on because the control freak in me thinks I can fix this.
I love my husband, and I love my step-daughter, but my position as a step-mother is not one I can say I always love. What I need to figure out now is where to go from here, and how to do so as gracefully as possible. That includes not taking out my anger on the five-year-old who's stuck in this situation as much as I am. Damnit, it's hard being an adult sometimes, but this wild life isn't one I'm giving up. If you've been there, either as a step-child or a step-parent, what can you tell me? I am open to as much advice as a girl can get, because right now, I feel like I'm failing.
Levi update: He can full-on crawl now. He is a speed demon, actually. He's also pulling himself up on any piece of furniture he can find, including unstable objects like the dog or a chair on wheels. We've had a few head bonks but he's a tough cookie. He's also got a tooth JUST UNDER the gums that's threatening to pop through any second. That means a lot of drool and snot and other fun side effects. He's as hilarious as ever, though, and such a good baby. He loves to sleep on his stomach with his head wedged into the corner of his crib and his butt up in the air. He will stop whatever he's doing if I start counting to 10, and if I say "hello" really loudly he will look at my expectantly. He tried chicken for the first time yesterday and seemed to dig it, and he really likes plums, raspberries, and strawberries.
Book update: Zach and I are flying to Denver next week, so I hope to pick up a new book or two on my Nook for the trip. I plan to reread To Kill a Mockingbird as I begin thinking about lesson plans, too. Any recommendations?
This morning I sat over coffee for two hours catching up with an old friend. He and I connected in high school and college over writing and films and a sense that we were meant to be friends somehow. We live thousands of miles apart now, and lead two strikingly different lives, but that connection has not faded. He was in awe a little bit over the fact that I have a baby and a "real life," but in his next breath, however, he'd correct himself and say that it makes perfect sense. I like to think that when you live in the life you have, really settle in and become your true self, you bring a sense of peace. Friends have said that I'm surprisingly relaxed for a first-time mom, but I think it's because I've begun to embody this role. I no longer feel like I'm playacting as a wife and mother. I AM those things. Being a mom has become as much a part of me as being a blonde, as breathing or thinking or loving. I am where I'm supposed to be.
Where my terrain becomes uneven is with Norah. The ground of step-parenting is rocky and challenging and, to be honest, sometimes scary. I don't feel the same natural inclinations as I do with Levi. I question many of my decisions and reactions because there's another party to consider--Norah's mother. I don't want to step on any feet but yet the mama bear in me can't sit back and let things happen that she disagrees with. I want to fight for my husband's rights when he'd rather not rock the boat, and I want to insure that what's best for Norah is what's happening, regardless of which adult doesn't like it. Step-parenting can be tricky and unpleasant, and lately I've been filled with a lot of anger about the situation. I'm angry at how helpless I often feel (because, let's face it, as much as Zach treats me like his partner, the other side can discount me as "not real family" with a flippant remark and reduce me to an outsider). I'm angry that another woman will always be a part of my marriage, another woman that I don't always agree with when it comes to parenting but yet one I have to respect and work with for the benefit of our daughter. I'm angry that I've done everything I can to provide Norah with stability and structure and experiences and memories and yet that sometimes doesn't seem like enough. I know she's a child and doesn't do things on purpose, but when she'd rather be with her mother I can't help but take it personally sometimes. Mostly I'm angry at myself for how angry I am, for how much time and energy I let these worries and what ifs control. Where I am as a stepmom is atop a cliff made up of all my resentment and jealousy and fear, clinging to the edge with a sometimes tenuous grip, unsure if I should let go and just see what happens or hold on because the control freak in me thinks I can fix this.
I love my husband, and I love my step-daughter, but my position as a step-mother is not one I can say I always love. What I need to figure out now is where to go from here, and how to do so as gracefully as possible. That includes not taking out my anger on the five-year-old who's stuck in this situation as much as I am. Damnit, it's hard being an adult sometimes, but this wild life isn't one I'm giving up. If you've been there, either as a step-child or a step-parent, what can you tell me? I am open to as much advice as a girl can get, because right now, I feel like I'm failing.
Levi update: He can full-on crawl now. He is a speed demon, actually. He's also pulling himself up on any piece of furniture he can find, including unstable objects like the dog or a chair on wheels. We've had a few head bonks but he's a tough cookie. He's also got a tooth JUST UNDER the gums that's threatening to pop through any second. That means a lot of drool and snot and other fun side effects. He's as hilarious as ever, though, and such a good baby. He loves to sleep on his stomach with his head wedged into the corner of his crib and his butt up in the air. He will stop whatever he's doing if I start counting to 10, and if I say "hello" really loudly he will look at my expectantly. He tried chicken for the first time yesterday and seemed to dig it, and he really likes plums, raspberries, and strawberries.
Book update: Zach and I are flying to Denver next week, so I hope to pick up a new book or two on my Nook for the trip. I plan to reread To Kill a Mockingbird as I begin thinking about lesson plans, too. Any recommendations?
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Sleep training part 1
I can't believe it's already July. The older I get, the faster time passes, that's for sure. No wonder they say youth is wasted on the young.
My cousin and her three boys, along with my aunt, headed up from Indy yesterday to join me and Norah for some time at the beach. My aunt has always found New Buffalo to be a cute place, so she requested that we go there. My boys stayed home in the A/C to avoid the heat. Levi has been really stuffy/sneezing snot everywhere, and rather cranky because of it, so he would have been no fun anyway. Norah had tons of fun with Mitchell and Logan, twins who happen to be 5 just like her. They showed each other tricks (Norah flipping her eyelids inside out equally grossed out and amazed them) and sang along to LMFAO and Gotye in the back seat. We ladies chatted in the water and enjoyed a beautiful beach day. We then headed to Oink's for some post-beach treats. The New Buffalo beach has $10 parking, which is a bit steep, but it's clean, there are bathrooms and a foot shower, and the break wall really cuts down on waves, so it was a perfect place to take the youngsters. I can't believe it took me until July to get in one of my at least three beach trips this summer, but it was a glorious day.
Tomorrow marks another exciting part of my summer--the fourth. I LOVE this holiday. I really enjoy the parade, for one thing. The flyover is exciting, I love watching the students march by, and it brings out the kid in me. Norah will be spending the parade atop the fire truck with her dad. I can't wait to wave as they pass by and snap a few great pictures. Levi will sadly miss it, but with the weather nearly reaching 100 degrees he wouldn't have had any fun anyway. Fingers crossed that next year, when he'll be toddling around, he can enjoy his first LP parade!
These days Levi is enjoying a few new things. First, he is very interested in everything we eat. He'd much rather have tiny bites of bread or fruit (today he tried plum and loved it!) than pureed baby food. I'm still trying to get him to have some Gerber's now and then for the calories, but at least he's eating. He loved yogurt for a while there, but this week he won't take more than a bite. I don't know if it's the heat, his cold, or the suspected teeth about to show, but something's off. He's also started pulling himself up to standing on everything. Any surface, including one's legs, is fair game. He just wants to move and see things. It's a whole new world for that kid. His crawling is almost "normal" now. Only every so often will he drop to his tummy and drag himself forward with his forearms. In fact, he's starting to stand up on his feet instead of his knees, a move someone recently dubbed the leapfrog. He hasn't taken off yet, but it's clear he wants the fastest method out there.
I've finally gotten over my fear of letting him cry it out in his crib. He's been sleeping in there for a while now, but we've been guilty of putting him to sleep in our arms first and then lying him in there. Being home all day every day has shown me that that's not always going to work. The crib method works just fine, though. The longest he's cried is 20 minutes. Last night I thought he was going to put up a good fight, but within 40 seconds he was out. He then proceeded to sleep for 12 hours. (During hours 10-12 I worried a little bit that he'd died in there, but I made myself leave him alone. Not dead. Phew.)
Naptimes are becoming more regular, as well. It used to be that we let him dictate his schedule, especially because we're on the go so much. He has always been a car sleeper, so we'd often just let our drive to Valpo be his nap. He's gotten to the point where he needs a 1-2 hour a.m. nap and a 2+ hour afternoon nap to be happy Levi. Today I let him take that morning doze in my arms because I was watching TV anyway, and he's sick. He's currently crying on Norah's bedroom floor, so it may be time to put him in his crib.
Sleep training Norah has been a much more involved and arduous process. I'll cover that in an upcoming post, but suffice it to say that we have had some aggravating nights as of late. Yet another struggle when parenting one child in two households.
Have a happy fourth of July, everybody! Enjoy some fireworks and act like a kid like this wild Mama intends to :)
My cousin and her three boys, along with my aunt, headed up from Indy yesterday to join me and Norah for some time at the beach. My aunt has always found New Buffalo to be a cute place, so she requested that we go there. My boys stayed home in the A/C to avoid the heat. Levi has been really stuffy/sneezing snot everywhere, and rather cranky because of it, so he would have been no fun anyway. Norah had tons of fun with Mitchell and Logan, twins who happen to be 5 just like her. They showed each other tricks (Norah flipping her eyelids inside out equally grossed out and amazed them) and sang along to LMFAO and Gotye in the back seat. We ladies chatted in the water and enjoyed a beautiful beach day. We then headed to Oink's for some post-beach treats. The New Buffalo beach has $10 parking, which is a bit steep, but it's clean, there are bathrooms and a foot shower, and the break wall really cuts down on waves, so it was a perfect place to take the youngsters. I can't believe it took me until July to get in one of my at least three beach trips this summer, but it was a glorious day.
Tomorrow marks another exciting part of my summer--the fourth. I LOVE this holiday. I really enjoy the parade, for one thing. The flyover is exciting, I love watching the students march by, and it brings out the kid in me. Norah will be spending the parade atop the fire truck with her dad. I can't wait to wave as they pass by and snap a few great pictures. Levi will sadly miss it, but with the weather nearly reaching 100 degrees he wouldn't have had any fun anyway. Fingers crossed that next year, when he'll be toddling around, he can enjoy his first LP parade!
These days Levi is enjoying a few new things. First, he is very interested in everything we eat. He'd much rather have tiny bites of bread or fruit (today he tried plum and loved it!) than pureed baby food. I'm still trying to get him to have some Gerber's now and then for the calories, but at least he's eating. He loved yogurt for a while there, but this week he won't take more than a bite. I don't know if it's the heat, his cold, or the suspected teeth about to show, but something's off. He's also started pulling himself up to standing on everything. Any surface, including one's legs, is fair game. He just wants to move and see things. It's a whole new world for that kid. His crawling is almost "normal" now. Only every so often will he drop to his tummy and drag himself forward with his forearms. In fact, he's starting to stand up on his feet instead of his knees, a move someone recently dubbed the leapfrog. He hasn't taken off yet, but it's clear he wants the fastest method out there.
I've finally gotten over my fear of letting him cry it out in his crib. He's been sleeping in there for a while now, but we've been guilty of putting him to sleep in our arms first and then lying him in there. Being home all day every day has shown me that that's not always going to work. The crib method works just fine, though. The longest he's cried is 20 minutes. Last night I thought he was going to put up a good fight, but within 40 seconds he was out. He then proceeded to sleep for 12 hours. (During hours 10-12 I worried a little bit that he'd died in there, but I made myself leave him alone. Not dead. Phew.)
Naptimes are becoming more regular, as well. It used to be that we let him dictate his schedule, especially because we're on the go so much. He has always been a car sleeper, so we'd often just let our drive to Valpo be his nap. He's gotten to the point where he needs a 1-2 hour a.m. nap and a 2+ hour afternoon nap to be happy Levi. Today I let him take that morning doze in my arms because I was watching TV anyway, and he's sick. He's currently crying on Norah's bedroom floor, so it may be time to put him in his crib.
Sleep training Norah has been a much more involved and arduous process. I'll cover that in an upcoming post, but suffice it to say that we have had some aggravating nights as of late. Yet another struggle when parenting one child in two households.
Have a happy fourth of July, everybody! Enjoy some fireworks and act like a kid like this wild Mama intends to :)
Thursday, June 28, 2012
My new superhero role
Newflash to no one: It's hot. Really, really hot. For me to say that, it's gotta be blazing outside. I love mid-80's summer days with a pool or a beach nearby. 100 degrees, though? That is just oppressive and unfun. Getting into my car almost made my heart stop earlier. When I got into said deathtrap, however, I was in a state I rarely, if ever, find myself: I was alone. No baby, no child, no husband, no dog. Blissfully and completely by myself. Levi is spending the day at my parents' house so I can get some things accomplished, and I cannot believe how much I am appreciating being by myself. I ran to Walmart, the library, and the Wendy's drive thru and it was glorious not having to lug the car seat in and out. Levi travels with me everywhere, and he's a chill little dude, but to just be able to run in and out in 3 minutes was marvelous.
The things I need to accomplish, besides my errands, involve eradicating our home of fleas. Either Pippa (the puppy) or Brooks (the fat, long-haired cat who recently began sneaking out of the house on clandestine missions) contracted the nasty little buggers and then shared them with the other two animals. I had an inkling when, night before last, Pippa would not stop scratching. I woke up at 1:30 a.m. to her incessant scritch-scritch-scritch and my mind starting racing. I've experienced fleas once before when I lived with my parents and they were horrendous. What do you know--when Zach got home from work at 7 he looked at Pippa's stomach and there they were. I'm shuddering just reliving that moment. I ran to the store for flea bath, flea collars, flea spray, flea powder, flea treatment, the works, and have been cleaning, washing, vacuuming, treating, and spraying ever since. Brooks had some in his long hair, and bathing him was an experience I hope never to repeat. I have symmetrical gashes on my wrists from his teeth when he went psycho-kitty and tried to kill me to get out of the tub. I swear he turned into a possessed cat from "Pet Cemetary" or something. Anyway, I don't want Levi around the spray so I sent him away with Grandma and Grandpa for a while. They love having him, and the Flea Huntress (I'm thinking of trademarking that... maybe I should mock up a suit, too?) gets a little time to herself. Alone, with three itchy animals and who knows how many heinous little creatures in my carpets and couches. We're trying everything we can shy of boarding the pets and bombing our house first, so any advice on speeding up this process would be appreciated.
It's definitely wild here these days. A bit too wild for my liking. Damnit.
Flea Huntress, out.
The things I need to accomplish, besides my errands, involve eradicating our home of fleas. Either Pippa (the puppy) or Brooks (the fat, long-haired cat who recently began sneaking out of the house on clandestine missions) contracted the nasty little buggers and then shared them with the other two animals. I had an inkling when, night before last, Pippa would not stop scratching. I woke up at 1:30 a.m. to her incessant scritch-scritch-scritch and my mind starting racing. I've experienced fleas once before when I lived with my parents and they were horrendous. What do you know--when Zach got home from work at 7 he looked at Pippa's stomach and there they were. I'm shuddering just reliving that moment. I ran to the store for flea bath, flea collars, flea spray, flea powder, flea treatment, the works, and have been cleaning, washing, vacuuming, treating, and spraying ever since. Brooks had some in his long hair, and bathing him was an experience I hope never to repeat. I have symmetrical gashes on my wrists from his teeth when he went psycho-kitty and tried to kill me to get out of the tub. I swear he turned into a possessed cat from "Pet Cemetary" or something. Anyway, I don't want Levi around the spray so I sent him away with Grandma and Grandpa for a while. They love having him, and the Flea Huntress (I'm thinking of trademarking that... maybe I should mock up a suit, too?) gets a little time to herself. Alone, with three itchy animals and who knows how many heinous little creatures in my carpets and couches. We're trying everything we can shy of boarding the pets and bombing our house first, so any advice on speeding up this process would be appreciated.
It's definitely wild here these days. A bit too wild for my liking. Damnit.
Flea Huntress, out.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Recipe of the week #2
Last night I tackled my second new recipe of the week. This wasn't a brand new recipe exactly, but Zach and I had never eaten it--I made it a few months ago for our friends Ryan and Ashley when their second baby was born. I remember, just a few months prior, how wonderful it was when friends and family brought a frozen meal for us. It was just one less thing to think about as I tried to rein in my hormones and grab an hour of sleep here or there. So, when Owen came home from the hospital I knew I wanted to send over a casserole of some sort. I Googled easy casserole recipes until I came across one that sounded good. The name, which now escapes me, had the word cheeseburger in it I'm fairly certain. Ryan had already eaten dinner the night I sent the dish over, but because it was still warm and smelled good (and Ryan has a bottomless stomach) he had some anyway and said it was good.
So, I fished the recipe out of the cabinet and made it for us last night! Here are the deets:
Ingredients
2 lb. ground beef
1 onion; chopped
15 oz. tomato sauce
2 tsp. chili powder
1 T. garlic salt
1 cup cheddar cheese; grated
1 cup sour cream
2 eggs
2 cans Pillsbury biscuits
Prep
Brown the ground beef with the onion. Drain oil. Add tomato sauce, garlic sal, and chili powder and bring to simmer. In a separate bowl, mix the shredded cheese (save some for the topping), sour cream, and eggs and then add the mixture to the meat. Bring to simmer again. Press one can of biscuits to the bottom of a 9X13 pan, ungreased. Add the simmering meat mixture on top of the biscuits and then layer the top with the other can. Bake at 375 F for 45 minutes. Top the casserole with some more shredded cheese and bake until it melts.
For the biscuits, I used Grands Jr. flaky layers Butter flavor. I was worried Buttermilk might be too sweet. It was pretty buttery, but if you're like me and grew up eating bread and butter with pretty much every dinner it'll really hit the spot. I also tore each biscuit in half to be able to cover the entire bottom of the casserole dish. While it baked I got all of the dishes done, switched some laundry out, and continued reading Brooke Burke's Naked Mom. I don't think she's the best host on "Dancing with the Stars," but her book is honest and funny and I am using her reflections to think about my own life. So, that's a win.
Zach complimented the meal mid-chew, which I think is a good sign, and we both had heaping platefuls. I think this one's a keeper! It definitely seems kid-friendly, too. If you're not a big onion fan, I'd suggest only browning half of an onion with the meat (there was onion in every bite, but Z and I love spice, so that worked for us.)
Here are a couple of mid-prep photos for your enjoyment.
Levi and I are going to find something fun to do today. I've discovered these last few weeks off work that if I don't leave the house at least once a day with him, I start to go crazy. I need a diversion and some adult intereaction, even if it's only with the grocery bagger, to keep my sanity. Happy wild life!
So, I fished the recipe out of the cabinet and made it for us last night! Here are the deets:
Ingredients
2 lb. ground beef
1 onion; chopped
15 oz. tomato sauce
2 tsp. chili powder
1 T. garlic salt
1 cup cheddar cheese; grated
1 cup sour cream
2 eggs
2 cans Pillsbury biscuits
Prep
Brown the ground beef with the onion. Drain oil. Add tomato sauce, garlic sal, and chili powder and bring to simmer. In a separate bowl, mix the shredded cheese (save some for the topping), sour cream, and eggs and then add the mixture to the meat. Bring to simmer again. Press one can of biscuits to the bottom of a 9X13 pan, ungreased. Add the simmering meat mixture on top of the biscuits and then layer the top with the other can. Bake at 375 F for 45 minutes. Top the casserole with some more shredded cheese and bake until it melts.
For the biscuits, I used Grands Jr. flaky layers Butter flavor. I was worried Buttermilk might be too sweet. It was pretty buttery, but if you're like me and grew up eating bread and butter with pretty much every dinner it'll really hit the spot. I also tore each biscuit in half to be able to cover the entire bottom of the casserole dish. While it baked I got all of the dishes done, switched some laundry out, and continued reading Brooke Burke's Naked Mom. I don't think she's the best host on "Dancing with the Stars," but her book is honest and funny and I am using her reflections to think about my own life. So, that's a win.
Zach complimented the meal mid-chew, which I think is a good sign, and we both had heaping platefuls. I think this one's a keeper! It definitely seems kid-friendly, too. If you're not a big onion fan, I'd suggest only browning half of an onion with the meat (there was onion in every bite, but Z and I love spice, so that worked for us.)
Here are a couple of mid-prep photos for your enjoyment.
 |
| Step 2 |
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| Levi enjoying some pears and wrestlemania with Daddy while Mommy cooks |
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| The finished product! |
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| This one's from last week, but it's my adorable family post-swimming at my brother-in-law's. Awwww! |
Monday, June 25, 2012
A walk in the park
I'm feeling incredibly thoughtful today. Maybe it's because it's not oppressively hot for once and I was able to reconnect with nature this morning. My dad and I took Levi to Kesling Park for a 2-mile stroll, and the weather was absolutely perfect. Mid 70's, a glorious breeze, and not a cloud in the sky. My dad, who refers to himself quite often in the third person as Jaybird, is honestly one of my favorite people in the entire world. I think that's how most girls feel, but I might think that about him even if he weren't my father. He is patient and giving and really very funny. At 75 he works harder than almost anyone I know, and he has never complained about raising two families and "retiring" 20 years ago to only pick up more work than he left behind. He has the best attitude--give him any situation, any setback or disappointment, and he'll accept it, let it go, and move on with positivity. He looks at life as a blessing, at each day as something to embrace and enjoy. Zach loves teasing me about my dad's enthusiasm for the simple things; he'll open a new shirt and literally whistle and exclaim, "How about that?" even if he already owns three just like it. He's happy, and I want to be just like him.
Jaybird is known for his love for barbershop, his friendly and outgoing demeanor (he can make friends with anyone, anywhere, any time), and his penchant for terrible jokes. He also gives simple but powerful advice. He always tells me that worrying is like a rocking chair--you can go back and forth for hours and still not get anywhere. When I'll learn to heed his advice and quit worrying is another story. I'm just so good at it, why give it up? He also taught me back in the fifth grade an advanced rendition of "Three Blind Mice" that I still bust out at parties occasionally. (It's called "Three Sightless Rodents" if you're interested... I can perform it any time for ya! Actually, some of my students recorded me singing it this year so it very well may be on Youtube already.) Most of all, my dad is a lover. He loves those around him so much. I don't know how he can find that much love to give, honestly. I'm lucky to have him as my dad.
I also spent some time this morning on the wonderful timesuck that is Pinterest. I've long been a fan of quotes; as a writer, I find immense power in words. During my perusal today I came across this little gem:
To Kill a Mockingbird is one of the things I teach in Literature 10, and I adore this book. It's so powerful and still resonates loudly. I'm struck by this quote today, especially, because I had that time outdoors with my dad and my son. I had no television, no phone, and no internet to distract me. I was able to open my eyes and ears to the beauty of nature, the kindess of strangers, and the peace and joy of being alive. I want to be someone who truly listens to those around her, who can be fair and honest and authentic. I don't want to be blinded by my preconceptions or opinions. I want to learn, to grow, to connect. I can do that by appreciating the goodness my father exudes, by being thankful for a beautiful morning, and by striving to keep my eyes open to the wonders (and wonderful people) around me. Be grateful. Life is so good.
Jaybird is known for his love for barbershop, his friendly and outgoing demeanor (he can make friends with anyone, anywhere, any time), and his penchant for terrible jokes. He also gives simple but powerful advice. He always tells me that worrying is like a rocking chair--you can go back and forth for hours and still not get anywhere. When I'll learn to heed his advice and quit worrying is another story. I'm just so good at it, why give it up? He also taught me back in the fifth grade an advanced rendition of "Three Blind Mice" that I still bust out at parties occasionally. (It's called "Three Sightless Rodents" if you're interested... I can perform it any time for ya! Actually, some of my students recorded me singing it this year so it very well may be on Youtube already.) Most of all, my dad is a lover. He loves those around him so much. I don't know how he can find that much love to give, honestly. I'm lucky to have him as my dad.
 |
| Giving me away |
I also spent some time this morning on the wonderful timesuck that is Pinterest. I've long been a fan of quotes; as a writer, I find immense power in words. During my perusal today I came across this little gem:
To Kill a Mockingbird is one of the things I teach in Literature 10, and I adore this book. It's so powerful and still resonates loudly. I'm struck by this quote today, especially, because I had that time outdoors with my dad and my son. I had no television, no phone, and no internet to distract me. I was able to open my eyes and ears to the beauty of nature, the kindess of strangers, and the peace and joy of being alive. I want to be someone who truly listens to those around her, who can be fair and honest and authentic. I don't want to be blinded by my preconceptions or opinions. I want to learn, to grow, to connect. I can do that by appreciating the goodness my father exudes, by being thankful for a beautiful morning, and by striving to keep my eyes open to the wonders (and wonderful people) around me. Be grateful. Life is so good.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Fifty Shades review
It seems like I am incapable of updating this with any semblance of regularity, but it's summer and I have two children, so I'm allowed to struggle with schedules. That's like a law or something. I'm taking the kids to my parents' pool here in a bit, and this afternoon we are hitting up the Sacred Heart Polish Festival for some yummy fare, so as far as blogging is concerned, it's now or never.
I think I've hit the summer wall. I feel like I should be accomplishing something or having a lot of fun every minute, so when I'm not doing anything of note I feel guilty. That's sort of defeating the purpose of time off, yes? I'm working on it. I have finally finished the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy, so that's something as far as enjoyment goes, and I intend on reviewing it here in a hot minute. I've moved on to a really interesting nonfiction book, For Better, The Science of a Good Marriage by Tara Parker-Pope, and I'm tearing pages out of Health and Fitness magazines like it's my job. If only the act of tearing paper counted as physical fitness. Actually, I quite like the feeling of working out. I feel strong and energized, and the rest of my day is much better. The problem for me is putting my shoes on and starting the workout. If someone literally picked me up and plopped me down in a gym every day I'd be golden. I'm also struggling a bit with my one-new-recipe-a-week plan. Only part of my issue is lack of motivation; mostly, we haven't been home or together for dinners the last couple of weeks. We eat at one of our parents' houses, or we meet someone out for dinner, or one of us is out of town or golfing or whatever. I am not going to try out a new recipe and go to all of that work for just me. Like I said, I'm content with frozen pizza. Zach and I will be home together Monday night, so I've deemed that my next new-recipe night. I think I'm trying a crockpot recipe this time. Updates to come :)
On to the salacious book review. (The book is salacious, not necessarily the review. Though I could try to spice this up, I suppose....) I first saw a clip about Fifty Shades on E News. Throngs of women were displayed in Britain at various book clubs, clutching the black paperbacks to their chests with looks of passion on their faces. I was intrigued. What would rile up so many English women with equal fervor? The segment was focused on how filmmakers had the task of casting actors who would live up to the giant fanbase's ideals. I was surprised by the fact that I hadn't heard of these books. How could a casting frenzy already be underway? I'd kept up with the Harry Potter and Hunger Games franchises and grudgingly read and watched the Twilight series, so a new popular thing piqued my interest. The next day (literally) all of my female coworkers were talking about the books. I kept hearing how naughty the story line was, how my friends couldn't put the books down, and how their sex lives were being affected. If English teachers were recommending raunchy literature commonly referred to as "pulp", I knew this was something I had to read.
The first book is a shock. I felt self-conscious reading it around others; I definitely did not bring it to school, and once while reading in the car with my mother-in-law, I had to put the book away. The sex scenes are a lot to take in at first. By the third book, I became anesthesized to them, anticipating then based on the author's very obvious cues, and skimming through some to get to the action of the plot. Overall, however, the racy descriptions are enjoyable and voyeuristic. I have never read erotica, and I think this series was a great introduction to the genre.
The characters are interesting, but I wouldn't describe them as fully developed. What I mean by that is I didn't leave the books feeling sad that I'd left friends, a feeling I often experience after really connecting with an author's characterization. Christian Grey is so complicated and tortured he doesn't seem real, and the female lead, Anastasia Steele, comes across as juvenile and, frankly, annoying. She is young and unsure of herself, which I assume was a conscious choice by the author so that readers could feel like they, too, could have something like this happen to them, but her inconsistencies bothered me. I also really hated the fact that she referred to her sexual parts as "my sex." The author often italicized that word, too, to really emphasize its awkwardness. Maybe the word vagina would have been obtrusive and taken away from the sensual flow of things, but I rolled my eyes every time I saw the word. It made me feel a little dirty, actually, like I was reading the thoughts of a teenager. My other biggest pet peeve was the author's repetitive word usage. I cannot tell you how many times she describes something as heady. Each time my eyes hit the word (the feeling was heady, a heady mixture of power and desire, etc.) the reading voice in my head stumbled. I even noticed it twice in one short paragraph in the third book--that's how much it interrupted my reading. The author overused many words and descriptions, so much so that the sex scenes became almost rote and the excitement all but disappeared. I know these books are fantasy, and that's why they're so appealing, but let's be honest--NO ONE has that much sex. Three times in one evening, followed by once in the middle of the night and again in the morning before work? Really?! I guess I'm too much of a realist to be fully swept away by the "perfect" fictional relationship. I don't think I could have tolerated Grey's controlling nature for a day, much less a lifetime. The relationship aspect just seemed like too much work.
I will say that overall I enjoyed the books and I'm glad I read them. I'm especially glad I saved them until summertime, as they are perfect poolside entertainment. If you are interested in stretching your mind fantasy-wise, they're a great inspiration. If you are traditional or very religious I'd suggest staying far, far away. I never thought I'd see the day that my mom would ask to borrow this type of book from me, but she has devoured the first and is anxiously awaiting the second. I guess these books appeal to many types.
Leaving one wild topic for another, I've got to go tame my children into swimsuits and sunscreen. Adios, readers!
I think I've hit the summer wall. I feel like I should be accomplishing something or having a lot of fun every minute, so when I'm not doing anything of note I feel guilty. That's sort of defeating the purpose of time off, yes? I'm working on it. I have finally finished the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy, so that's something as far as enjoyment goes, and I intend on reviewing it here in a hot minute. I've moved on to a really interesting nonfiction book, For Better, The Science of a Good Marriage by Tara Parker-Pope, and I'm tearing pages out of Health and Fitness magazines like it's my job. If only the act of tearing paper counted as physical fitness. Actually, I quite like the feeling of working out. I feel strong and energized, and the rest of my day is much better. The problem for me is putting my shoes on and starting the workout. If someone literally picked me up and plopped me down in a gym every day I'd be golden. I'm also struggling a bit with my one-new-recipe-a-week plan. Only part of my issue is lack of motivation; mostly, we haven't been home or together for dinners the last couple of weeks. We eat at one of our parents' houses, or we meet someone out for dinner, or one of us is out of town or golfing or whatever. I am not going to try out a new recipe and go to all of that work for just me. Like I said, I'm content with frozen pizza. Zach and I will be home together Monday night, so I've deemed that my next new-recipe night. I think I'm trying a crockpot recipe this time. Updates to come :)
On to the salacious book review. (The book is salacious, not necessarily the review. Though I could try to spice this up, I suppose....) I first saw a clip about Fifty Shades on E News. Throngs of women were displayed in Britain at various book clubs, clutching the black paperbacks to their chests with looks of passion on their faces. I was intrigued. What would rile up so many English women with equal fervor? The segment was focused on how filmmakers had the task of casting actors who would live up to the giant fanbase's ideals. I was surprised by the fact that I hadn't heard of these books. How could a casting frenzy already be underway? I'd kept up with the Harry Potter and Hunger Games franchises and grudgingly read and watched the Twilight series, so a new popular thing piqued my interest. The next day (literally) all of my female coworkers were talking about the books. I kept hearing how naughty the story line was, how my friends couldn't put the books down, and how their sex lives were being affected. If English teachers were recommending raunchy literature commonly referred to as "pulp", I knew this was something I had to read.
The first book is a shock. I felt self-conscious reading it around others; I definitely did not bring it to school, and once while reading in the car with my mother-in-law, I had to put the book away. The sex scenes are a lot to take in at first. By the third book, I became anesthesized to them, anticipating then based on the author's very obvious cues, and skimming through some to get to the action of the plot. Overall, however, the racy descriptions are enjoyable and voyeuristic. I have never read erotica, and I think this series was a great introduction to the genre.
The characters are interesting, but I wouldn't describe them as fully developed. What I mean by that is I didn't leave the books feeling sad that I'd left friends, a feeling I often experience after really connecting with an author's characterization. Christian Grey is so complicated and tortured he doesn't seem real, and the female lead, Anastasia Steele, comes across as juvenile and, frankly, annoying. She is young and unsure of herself, which I assume was a conscious choice by the author so that readers could feel like they, too, could have something like this happen to them, but her inconsistencies bothered me. I also really hated the fact that she referred to her sexual parts as "my sex." The author often italicized that word, too, to really emphasize its awkwardness. Maybe the word vagina would have been obtrusive and taken away from the sensual flow of things, but I rolled my eyes every time I saw the word. It made me feel a little dirty, actually, like I was reading the thoughts of a teenager. My other biggest pet peeve was the author's repetitive word usage. I cannot tell you how many times she describes something as heady. Each time my eyes hit the word (the feeling was heady, a heady mixture of power and desire, etc.) the reading voice in my head stumbled. I even noticed it twice in one short paragraph in the third book--that's how much it interrupted my reading. The author overused many words and descriptions, so much so that the sex scenes became almost rote and the excitement all but disappeared. I know these books are fantasy, and that's why they're so appealing, but let's be honest--NO ONE has that much sex. Three times in one evening, followed by once in the middle of the night and again in the morning before work? Really?! I guess I'm too much of a realist to be fully swept away by the "perfect" fictional relationship. I don't think I could have tolerated Grey's controlling nature for a day, much less a lifetime. The relationship aspect just seemed like too much work.
I will say that overall I enjoyed the books and I'm glad I read them. I'm especially glad I saved them until summertime, as they are perfect poolside entertainment. If you are interested in stretching your mind fantasy-wise, they're a great inspiration. If you are traditional or very religious I'd suggest staying far, far away. I never thought I'd see the day that my mom would ask to borrow this type of book from me, but she has devoured the first and is anxiously awaiting the second. I guess these books appeal to many types.
Leaving one wild topic for another, I've got to go tame my children into swimsuits and sunscreen. Adios, readers!
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