adjustment is hard

It is an understatement to say I have a hard time with change. Adjustment to just about anything is slow and painful. (Well, not anything. I do love to move the furniture around.) Especially when the changes come in multiples - not good.

This past weekend the new Swiss student arrived. Roxane is her name and she is very nice and pleasant to be around. This arrangement is ostensibly to lighten my load and provide me with company, but it is also change adjustment someone new in my house and in my family. AND the very same day she arrived... the snow melted. All at once. All of it.

For just about everyone I know here in Western NY, snowmelt is to be celebrated. It means spring is (sometime in the future, after we muck through the season of mud) on its way. We didn't have a ton of snow this year, and much more cold rain than I would have liked, but the snow was enough that the rain didn't wash it away; it just packed it down and turned it into a kind of snow cement, a white covering over all the ground.

Snow literally changes the structure of our yard. There are shoveled paths where there use to be open space. Garden beds are covered over and cease to exist. Small mountains spring up on either side of the bottom of the driveway, mountains that are good for sledding down and hiding behind and bouldering over. Snow forts and snow walls are built, then shrink and shift and are rebuilt.

Then the snow melts.

The snow melts and the old yard is revealed. Hello garden. Hello dog poop. (seriously a lot of dog poop hidden under the snow.)

There's not really a way for it to happen gradually. One day the snow is there, and the next it is gone. The piles at the end of the driveways stay for an extra day or two (and the gigantic mountains in the backs of the parking lots could possibly stay til July), but all the expanse of white, the crunch and spread of it, all that has been visually stable for the past several months - it all just vanishes.

It's too jarring for me. I was not ready to be done with the snow. I am never ready, turns out. Nonetheless, the snow is gone, and a new person is here, and adjustment is hard. I spent the last few days in a dramatic kind of space, weeping and lamenting the change, though I have faith it will be great for everyone eventually. It will come, the settling. And then you know what will happen?? She will leave, and it will be change adjustment someone gone from my house and family, and I will fall apart for a spell. 

this crazy year

Here I am again, in the garage while the ever faithful sitter Liz bathes the kids and puts them to bed. It's cozy in here - I have my water and my phone and therefore music, and it's not too cold to type. (We're about done with garage-blogging weather up here in the snow belt, however. Where will I hide then? The basement? I wonder if I have any gloves I can type in? Hm....) The downside is that both lights bulbs have burned out so I can't see a thing except this glowing screen. But I did bring a flashlight! Any event is more enjoyable if you attend to the details.

So. I haven't been here on the blog in a while. I've been trying to get here, longing to come visit this page, but life is, you know, doing that thing it does. I mentioned before that I have one kid in school in the morning, the other in the afternoon. I have about 25 minutes from the time Frances gets on the bus until I leave to pick up Clark. Someone is with me always. In some ways it reminds me of when they were so little. Someone who always needs my attention, never being able to finish a task (laundry, dishes) to completion, these ideas of fun projects (gingerbread houses, paper snowflakes on bunting) swimming around my head and never any time to fit them in, though it's unclear to me where the time actually goes. The biggest difference, besides the amount of contact I have with fecal matter, is that I no longer schlep things. As we were all leaving the house the other evening for Irish Dance I was acutely aware of my lack of preparedness with snacks and drinks. Then I remembered the diapers and wipes and burp cloths and changes of clothes of yore. My body does feel much lighter than in those days.

(This is actually a big point. I think when I was physically more involved in parenting - holding, carrying, lifting, rocking, wiping, schlepping - I was desensitized to the contact. It's these days that I get touched out, when I feel the need for physical space. Interesting.)

(By the way, this blog was created out of that experience - diapers and wipes and burp cloths and changes of clothes. And I've finally realized it really is time to be done with this blog. That doesn't mean I will quit writing. It's time to move on, another blog awaits. It's brewing. It's not ready yet. But just to keep you updated about that issue...)

By the time the kids are (finally) in bed I just don't have the energy for creation (meaning: blogging, or sewing, or painting, or often even email). Or for returning things to the mall. I could this minute go to home depot for lightbulbs and a new toilet seat for instance, but I just don't want to. So I'm here with you instead. A place I'd much rather be.

Anyway, busy schedule. Plus kids in Karate 2x a week and all that. So it's hard for me to get to the page. It's hard for me to catch my breath. I'm trying to figure out ways to make it work, to get the support I need so I can fully enjoy what there is to enjoy about this nutty schedule. I have another au pair situation with a college girl I adore but it's only a month while she's off for break. (but she gets here this Friday yayayayayyaay!) During that month I intend to find something more long term. (Please contact me if you have any leads.)

Even amid all that is frantic, I am also very present and aware it's only one year. It's a unique year, different from all the rest to come. It's hard for me, this year. I'm trying to let go of the dishes and of dinner (thank goodness for the new Trader Joes), and instead do puzzles and play Uno and make Magi out of salt dough as I did today. Next year Frances will be in school full day but Clark will still be home half day. The year after that they will both be gone full day. Oh my.

But I also love these days. I love having time alone with each child. I love running errands with them, letting them color or play around me while I cook dinner (at 10am because when else is that going to happen?), I love waiting for the bus with Frances and the ritual the bus adds to our lives. I love packing her snack in her backpack, love the way when she gets home she bounds off the bus with a smile, turns and waves, then runs to me. I love hearing about her day that is so foreign and completely separate from me. On days when Mitch takes Clark to school, I love that Frances and I walk the dog. We have a route of our own that involves a high wooden swing, and then we come home for hot chocolate without marshmallows because it is 9 am after all.

I love it. I love that Clark is learning to play by himself, entertained with his own sound effects, a lot of swooshing and blasting and kabooming as he zooms various cars or figures through the air. I love going to the library more often because I go with them one at a time rather than together. I am acutely aware that these days are but a moment in time, this year something that I will look back on.

Which is why I need support. Because I don't want this year to go by in a blur of dishes and laundry and rides to karate. I want to have enjoyed it, and to have paused and seen it. I want to feel it fully, and I want to be a good mom. In order to do that, given the set up, I need help help help. It's good to know what you need.

household help!

So. Ahem. Let's chat about headaches, shall we?

Frances had one a few months ago, did I tell you that? It was at bedtime. She said her forehead hurt, then she writhed on her bed for some time, and she sometimes liked the cold cloths I put on her head and sometimes pushed them away in pain and frustration. Suddenly she said, "I've gotta throw up" and we made it to the bathroom just in time. A full heaving episode, all her pasta dinner in case you wanted details, and then she felt much better, just exhausted, and fell into her bed and immediately passed out. She was fine in the morning.

But actually, since I go in for the navel gazing full on, I wanted to talk about my headaches.

If you're recently joining us, I have a chronic migraine disorder and have pretty much all my life. I was SO hoping my kids wouldn't get it, but it does run in families - my dad has it too, and my grandmother - but Frances's recent brush with the fabulousness that is migraine is seriously dampening my hope. When untreated I can have 3-4 massive migraines a week, but in the last few years by seriously limiting my diet, taking daily preventative, exercising like a crazy person, and (now!) having botox injections every 3 months, I average one every couple of weeks, and still have low grade headaches pretty frequently. The botox (for those of you who previously overlooked my sincere endorsement) is the only thing I've gotten real relief from but the effect wears off over time. The last few weeks of my treatment cycle the frequency is back up, sometimes daily low grade ones.

Anyhoo, Karen the au pair arrived here 4 weeks after the last round of injections. She was here 2 months, the last of which I should have been having full on headaches since my next treatment was on the very day she left. But in that 2 months she was here - are you ready?? - I only had three (3) headaches. In two months. It's unheard of.

When I told my neurologist, just as she was getting ready to stick my forehead with a needle, she said, "when does the next au pair come?" I told her it was just me again, just me. She paused, looked at me blankly, and she said, "It seems to me that if there's there's a problem that can be solved by throwing money at it, and you have the means, you should throw money at it." Hm.

I don't think it was just the extra pair of hands, though I'm not sure that help can be calculated. I think it was also the adult interaction, the waning of that lonesome feeling.

But now the headaches are back. Hello old companions.

Then! In my brainstorming about a solution to stay-at-home-mom fatigue, I decided what I needed was help with the house rather than the kids. So I gave up one sitter night and instead asked a sitter if she would be interested  in coming two or three evenings for just an hour, and for household help rather than kid entertainment. (When the kids were babies and I so needed a break, I wanted to sitters to entertain them so I could be not be touched for longer than 60 seconds. With Karen here I realized having house help freed me to roll on the floor with the kids or do puzzles or participate in tea parties without stressing that I should be emptying the dishwasher. It made me a better parent.)

Let me tell you, this solution is genius. I am SO pleased with myself for making this happen. Two extra hands for an hour seem like way more than two extra hands. She does the dishes, folds and puts away the laundry, drags the cooler or cat litter (or whatever) down to the basement, generally straightens, and - my favorite - turns down the beds. (hotel turn down service is one of my favorite things ever. It gives me large amounts of pleasure to walk into a room already appropriately lit and ready.)

WE NEED MORE SUPPORT AS PARENTS THAN WE GENERALLY GET!! There it is again, my refrain. Did you know in Europe nurses come visit the home several times after a baby is born, to see how the mom is doing, to check on the baby, to offer any advice or know-how or general encouragement? Here in America, once you leave the hospital, you are on your own. (I'm not going to be on my soap box long here...) The result of this for the US is a much higher maternal mortality rate, did you know?? Not to mention the ridiculous 6 weeks a mom gets for maternity leave here, compared with 12 months there. Really.

Okay, I'm done.

Will see how the household help (plus adult company!) affects the headaches. Right now I'm not seeing magical improvement, but we've just begun.

big changes afoot

Everyone loves school! We are a success! What a relief!

I haven't written since Karen the german girl arrived. She's here not to go to school, but on her break between semesters. It's a kind of language emersion for her, an extra family member for us.

When she first arrived I was in heaven and meant to write a post saying only that, but I never sat at the computer. She does the dishes! All the time! I fix food for the kids, turn around, and the dishes are already done! It's like magic.

The second week I had a hard time adjusting to having someone else around all the time. I kept thinking I needed to entertain her, thought of her as a guest. It was funny - we are putting her up and feeding her but since I'm not paying her for babysitting I kept feeling I couldn't ask for her to watch the kids while I went out. And she felt like we were going so out of our way to provide for her that she owed us as much help as she could be. So for a while both of us were working our asses off, neither of us taking a break.

Not long after she got here we loaded everyone up and traveled to Washington DC and that was nice, and back home Karen came along with me on some adventures with the kids, and that was wonderful. Now that school's started we've gotten into a rhythm and I'm really feeling it. It seems like she's been here forever and I honestly don't know how the adjustment is going to go for me once she is gone. I'm rather in love with her company and she's an ENORMOUS help around the house and with the kids and oh my goodness what am I going to do when I'm alone again??


Here's what's the what on school:

Both Frances and Clark are at schools new to them, whole new worlds. Clark had tough transition, missing his old school and friends, and my heart felt for him. He loved his old school, knew the rules and the expectations and the people, and he loved those people. At the new school (the Waldorf school Frances went to the last 2 years) he felt so shy. Shyness is painful, and who wouldn't want to end that feeling by running back to that other thing you already love and feel close to? Why take a risk? Thing is, he didn't even realize it was a risk, didn't realize there was possible gain on the other side. He just did it cuz mom made him. Still, I knew he was going to fall in love with it. The first day when I picked him up his shoes were completely and totally covered in mud and sand. They had been buried. I had to take off his shoes and socks and rain pants and let him walk barefoot to the car. (It's amazing how those rain pants keep everything dry underneath. Clark was amazed too. His feet were soaked through but his shorts were completely dry. "Look at that!" he said.) The Waldorf school is a place where that kind of activity is expected and even encouraged - sometimes when it's raining only lightly out they go to this hill nearby that's more dirt than anything else, and they take turns sliding down on their butt. In the mud. He's going to be in heaven. I love Waldorf because it is this joyous celebration of the earth and the natural world, a kind of love affair. You can't help but respond.

Mitch told me on the way to school yesterday Clark said he loves his school. When I asked him about it Clark said, "yes, I LOVE my school." "What do you like about it?" I asked. "The whole thing," he said. There's so much motor skill activity - grinding grain on the mill, churning butter, chopping veggies, sweeping, balancing on logs and climbing swinging ladders - all stuff that will please him at a deep physical level.

Frances is thrilled to pieces with kindergarten. She wasn't nervous to go, didn't seem apprehensive at all, and loves everything about it. The first day I walked her to school and I hope I remember that moment always. She was so happy and excited and the weather had been perfect but a storm was coming so it was cooling off. We stopped at the corner and chatted with our neighbors in their pool, then went on. After dropping her I walked home while the gray clouds gathered. It wasn't until I was on the sidewalk right in front of our house that I felt the first drop. And then the downpour. It was all very symbolic and lovely.

The interesting part is that Clark is in school in the morning (Tuesday - Friday) and Frances is in school in the afternoon. (I wrote about this here.) So far I'm in love with the setup. Of course, Karen is still here, which means I can leave Frances with her in the mornings while I take Clark to school or go to the gym or the grocery. When I'm on my own again the lack of a break may be trying, but I'm trying to enjoy the moment. Having the kids each alone is SO DIFFERENT. They are civilized people! And when Frances gets home from school at 3 they are so happy to see each other and they play so well together, since they've been apart all day.

My challenge now is to enjoy them each and not spend all our time running errands or doing dishes or laundry. Which means this school year I may not get much done. I'm trying to be okay with that. Trying to spend my time sitting on the floor playing old maid and doing puzzles. Frances will be in school full day next year, then Clark the year after that. It's all coming to a close, this time of our lives. It sounds so dramatic when I say it like that, but it's true. That full time baby-toddler-preschooler segment of my life is nearing an end.

When Clark said he loves his new school he also said he still misses the old one. I told him it's that way with a lot of things in life. Including this one for me. I'm excited to move on to the next stage - with activities and no naps and the ability of children to become hungry without turning into screaming maniacs. We can travel! And go out to dinner! And talk about issues! Frances is already there, and Clark is mostly close, and I can see the bright lights glimmer. Still, I'm aware I'm going to miss this. This time when I am their world, when they rely on me for so much, and when they give so much love. It's a sweet time, something I've looked forward to my whole life. That it is ending is why the baby urge strikes now, I believe. Still, the shine of what is to come lures me more. I don't want to stay here in baby land. (I mostly don't. Except when sometimes I do.) In any case, I'm still here now, and I plan to cherish it while it's happening.

in the garage

I am this minute squeezed into a cushioned kids chair in the garage in the dark with the computer on my lap. I can't turn the lights on because the kids might see me from inside the house, and they think I'm at the grocery or walking the dog but probably not sitting in the garage with a bottle of wine. In fact, I am listening to some impressive music while on hold with applecare. (Who picks their playlist? Sometimes Apple marketing astounds me.) I've spent many an hour recently entertained by their playlist while on hold with applecare. Generally I'm holding while the good spirited front line fella named Jake talks with someone in the back who knows which end is up. Not that Jake doesn't. Just somehow I've dug myself into a digital hole from which only experts can save me.

We had swim lessons tonight, which end later than the kids should be in their pjs, and Mitch is at a work dinner. Sometimes I pressure myself about doing it alone - feel that if I'm a good mom I should be able to put them to bed by myself forcryingoutloud, but other times I'm pretty clear about acknowledging my limitations. Given Clark's incessant screaming and general volatility, my limitations these days come sooner than they have other times. Good Enough Mommy, right? So tonight I have a sitter just for bathing them and putting them to bed. It's someone they love, and whom they haven't seen for a while. Everyone was happy when I lugged my electronics out here.

You may be pleased to know that as long as I don't die from a spider bite I might soon have pictures on a computer again. I have pictures, but I can't get them off the camera. So many I've wanted to post here recently! I have faith in this round of computer support. Maybe it's the wine.

A few minutes ago I nearly killed myself tripping over a trike while unplugging the computer from the wall as requested by Applecare Jake. Besides that, and the spiders, it's rather nice out here. I can hear the rain and smell the sawdust left by the guys who've been working on our house. I can also hear my son screaming absolute bloody murder in the upstairs bathroom. My guess is it's about getting out of the bath, though really, it could be about anything. It's hard to be three. Poor Sitter Liz, but she's a capable human and besides, it's good for Clark to have to receive comfort (and reactions) from people who are not Mommy.

Sometimes Mommy needs a break. I'm pretty sure I would not have believed you if prekids you'd told me that a satisfying break would involve sitting in my dark garage in a kids' chair drinking wine and listening to music akin to The Shins while on applecare hold. Ah, the poetic twists our lives take. I hope Clark doesn't scare away Liz. She's a great sitter, and she folds laundry and does dishes. What more?

no nap means Kipper

Things have been going so much more smoothly. That's what I've been telling everyone. Frances seems to have come somewhat out of the horrible awful three-year-old stage and she's a more pleasant human to be around. Then, mere moments ago, I moved the car seats into the babysitter's car and buckled Frances in. She gave me a hug and asked me to go back and get her Ariel doll. I told her Ariel was upstairs (and I wasn't going to go upstairs) but I would go see what I could find. In the toy closet I found a couple of babies, a Kipper stuffed animal, and a singing Elmo. I called her choices out the window and she chose her doll Shaker. I brought it out to the car, gave her one more kiss, then leaned on the driver's window to talk to the sitter about what time to be back.

Then. Frances asked for the Kipper. 

I know this scene; I've been in it many times. She doesn't give a hoot about Kipper. I think it's some kind of way to try to feel in control--she just wants me to do yet another thing for her--or to simply exert control over my actions, as well as the leaving (she didn't particularly want to go, though I know she'll have a lovely time when she's there). I've been fooled into running back and forth, just one more thing, thinking why not if it's going to make her happy, calm, quiet? But it's not Kipper she wants, and if I had gone to get Kipper she would have asked for something else, and a melt down was avoidable at this point anyway. So I said no, said I had given her her choices, that she was delaying and it was time to go. 

She unbuckled her carseat (ah-ha! The downside of her being able to buckle and unbuckle her own seat...) and flung herself to the floor. I had to open the door and wrestle her, screeching, back into her seat, and then threaten the loss of tomorrow's TV time if she undid her carseat again. (Have I mentioned the power of the no more TV threat? Not long ago when I picked her up from a playdate, she unsurprisingly didn't want to go home, and she and the little boy ran off to hide/play/carry on as if I weren't there. I called out "I'm going to count to three and if you're not at the door putting on your shoes then there's no TV today or tomorrow," and there wasn't even a second of quiet before she said, "Gotta go, Leo!" and ran down the stairs.)

All of this also illustrates the late afternoon result of no nap. I thought for sure when she gave up her pacifier she'd give up naps too--she was already napping only some days--but lately she's been falling asleep on the couch, in the car, sometimes at 5pm. I think we have to go back to naps. But the nighttime paci success continues!

monetary cost of sanity

We took a babysitter with us to a 5-year-old's b-day party a couple weekends ago. The issue was that we had two parties that night... the 5-year-old's at 5:30 and then the second at 7, an adults only party on a boat so we couldn't be late (lest me miss the debarquement). Which meant we didn't have time to take the kids home in order to leave them with a sitter, so we had the sitter come to the first party and then she took them home from there while we went on to the 2nd party. Following?

Anyhoo, afterwards I swore that I'm never going anywhere without a sitter again. Oh my it was fabulous. I got to talk to people. And eat food. Seriously. There were crafts at the party and Frances requested that the sitter come do them with her instead of us, and later when Clark was crazy crazy crazy I was able to just ask the sitter to fetch him or make sure he wasn't flinging himself from the porch railing while I continued my conversation with a friend.

Then last weekend we went to a big picnic and I forgot about my previous assertion and I spent the entire time either entertaining one child or chasing the other. Every conversation I had was no more than 3 sentences long. I only ate half my piece of cake. I told Mitch we should have brought a sitter and he just shook his head at me.

The issue is -- what kind of people does it make us if we bring a sitter to a social gathering? Honestly, I think I would look a little sideways my friends if they did it. I would think of it as excessive, as luxurious, and maybe ridiculous. On the other hand, maybe I don't care. Maybe it's worth $20 to be able to enjoy myself socially.

It won't be like this forever. One day, probably sooner than I realize, the kids will be old enough to entertain themselves running around the field with the other kids while I chat with a friend about the chickens she's keeping in her urban backyard.

Does the fact that it won't be like this forever mean I should bring a sitter with me or that I shouldn't? Hm.

a good day

Took the kids BY MYSELF this morning to the pool. And I was successful! Which basically means no one, including me, vomited or turned into a screaming lunatic. I've discovered that things in general go so much more smoothly when I prep Frances--tell her how long (or how little) we're going to stay, explain why we won't have more time, and ask if she'll be a big helper and come when I ask and help us get into the shower when I ask and help us all get dressed. Sometimes I have to promise big rewards like yesterday when we went to Michaels and I told her on the way that we weren't going to buy any toys or any candy but if she was a helper and minded well she could have some bubble gum at the end. Which I was more than happy to provide considering that things had gone surprisingly well. So I have a new tactic. Yay me!

I just a few minutes ago waved to the kids as they rode off in their sitter's car. She's great--our sitter. She's been with us nearly a year now, two afternoons or so a week. She works a regular full time job until 4pm so gets here around 4:15. Some days she plays with the kids at home while I run errands or whatever, but more often she takes them to her folks' house. They play and sometimes swim in the pool and she feeds them dinner and gives them baths and then brings them home in their pjs. She's got two sisters also, one still in high school, so the kids get to be a part of another family, have their world grow a little, see the dynamics of how a different family works. Her parents have apparently gotten really attached to the kids and see them as a regular part of their lives. All of which is fabulous fabulous fabulous. I don't have any plans today for what I'm going to do with my sitter time (past this blog post, anyway) and as they were driving off I thought about that. Usually I would have a lot of anxiety around wasting my sitter time--I would feel pressure to accomplish things, errands, stuff--but when they go to her parents' house I don't. I think it's because I don't feel like this time is for me (though of course it is...), but is for them. I feel it's so important to them--they just love it--especially since we don't have any family around here. So even if I accomplish nothing it's worth the money.

Now off to accomplish something.

slowly through the sludge

I don't think I'm myself these days, but I don't remember what I was like before, what my real self is.

I think I've figured out something about the sitters that's helpful... I've wanted them here to give me a break and so I can have some space to get some things done, but neither of those things have been happening. But I don't really get a break--not a full break--because periodically either kid needs me and I have to stop what I'm doing and go to them. But yesterday I stayed awake when they were napping (I usually nap then too) and I used that time to do things in the house. When the kids woke up and the sitter arrived, I went to lie down. It was great! Because I was upstairs and couldn't see the kids and the fun they were having with the sitter, I didn't feel like I was missing out; instead it felt luxurious, restful. Finally! Hopefully it will continue to work that way.

I keep trying to manage my anxiety--to anticipate when it's going to strike--but the truth is that it doesn't seem to matter what I do. But resting when the sitter was here was GREAT and made me feel like maybe I have some control. It could have been a fluke. It could have been just that day. But hopefully I've figured out a trick that will help.

preschool

Things here have been changing a bit. Used to be that Frances stayed with sitters a couple of times a week and she loved it. But in response to my recent anxiety about hiring sitters and figuring out which hours I need them, I got rid of them all together. (I know, I know, a bit extreme.) It's been nice being home with her, frankly, and we've finally been able to get into a routine, of which the lack was making me crazy. But now M and I notice that F is suddenly more dependent on me, sometimes to the point of not allowing even her dad to soothe her. She hollers, "No! Mommy! Go way Daddy! Mommy!" and wants only me. She doesn't want me to leave her in the kidtown at the gym, though before she had no problem and would in fact wave at me and say, "Bye bye Mommy." Now she gets this panic stricken look and holds her arms out to me. It breaks my heart, though my resolve has gotten more steely and I just smile at her like it isn't happening and say, "Have fun, Frances. I'll be back in a little while." The first time it happened I thought I would melt right there on the linoleum and considered turning around and taking her home. M reminds me that exercise is not just for me but for her too because it makes me a healthier person and better mom (both of which are more true than I can express here). But that's hard to remember when her lip is trembling and she's huddling around my legs for protection.

So we've decided two things. One is to continue on with the preschool (perhaps I forgot to say in my last post about it that it's only 2 half days/week--a total of 6 hours for goodness sake) and in addition, get a sitter for her one afternoon. I think she needs both. M pointed out that having someone other than me (or him even) is what she's used to--having someone else to comfort her, pay attention to her, soothe her, discipline her. Being only with me is a change in her life, something to which she's had to adjust. I've always been so pleased with how little separation anxiety she's had, how easily she goes to other people. So we're going to try to fix this recent regression.

ALSO--I want to say something about comments on the blog. I think I didn't realize the protocol about blog comments--that I should be responding to them here on the blog rather than privately to you, when I do. I love comments. I heart them. So please feel free to leave them, and I will now post responses to them here.

home home home

We've been gone for 2 full weeks during which we changed locations every couple of days. It was exhausting. The first week was pretty good, then somewhere in the middle of the 2nd week I found myself standing in the shower crying. F tired of it too and daily demanded "Cece's house!"

Interestingly, though I loved loved loved seeing everyone in our old neighborhood in NC, I found myself homesick for our new neighborhood in NY. I don't know if it was just my *home* that I longed for, my personal space, or the actual place we now live. I do think the safety and cleanliness and staidness of it all lowers my anxiety quite a bit. All that stuff I complained about at first--how white collar and stepford-wife-ish, that stuff appeals to me now, which is funny to me. The house itself is nice but it has it's problems, things I'll change if we stay here forever, but I love the feel of the neighborhood and the location and the manicured lawns and the nice cars driving slowly and the kids playing basketball in the driveways. One of my neighbors just today said he sometimes feels like he lives in a movie set in a 1950s neighborhood. It's all a bit surreal.

We have a new sitter, but she's temporary. I like her a good bit and am thinking of trying to convince her not to go back to school. When she asked F how old she is I said, "She doesn't know the answer to that question." I thought the answer was "One" but then F said something that I didn't understand. I asked again, "Frances, how old are you?" and she looked at me plainly and said, "Twenty two months." Who taught her that? Did she just overhear me tell someone?

Today I took a video of her in her sunglasses pushing her shopping cart and saying, "See you later!" She watched it over and over and over. It's got to be strange for someone with so little self-consciousness to see herself from the outside like that.

C has just turned a developmental corner and he's so active. It's surprised me--I believe I thought he'd be three months old forever. I think, anticipating the move, I got stuck in a particular space and was startled when time moved beyond that. He's rolling over all the time and trying to sit up and grabbing at everything. He watches really intently when we eat, watches the food go from hand to mouth and he's thinking about it. I don't know when I'll feed him solids... I think I'll let him lead the way.

With both kids I'm feeling a bit of angst about their changing. They are both going through such major shifts right now and I want to hold onto this; I feel anxiety that time is sliding by so quickly. Is that always the way with parenting? Will it always be this way?

p.s I bought a camera. Photos coming.

I own a mini van

I've joined the ranks! And I'm pretty excited about it all, though this morning after the sitter and I loaded the car with both kids and the dog (he had a hair appt) we discovered that the battery was dead. I have 14 miles on this car and the battery was dead. AAA came and fixed us up of course. I don't think it diminished my overall joy about the purchase.

F has decided she likes her sitter. They play Ring Around the Rosy together and since that began F now is excited for J to come. They include her dolly, holding the doll's hands, and when "we all fall down," Frances flings the baby to the floor and says, "Uh oh baby." She also carries around 4 or 5 of Clark's pacis and tries to force them into his mouth. She doesn't understand how anyone could not want a paci, but her brother does not. To demonstrate this for her I put them in his mouth one by one and he spits them out. Generally we only have to do this once a day, then we move on.

I still haven't found my camera which is making me nuts, but I do have a few pictures my cousin D took at the beach. I'm going to include them here. And then, when I'm done with this post, I'm going to go look again in the few unemptied boxes.

Things here in NY are not nearly as hard or dire as I had feared they'd be with the move. (Though having to deal w/ DMV a couple of days ago made me think I would slit my wrists). I got F enrolled in the very last spot in preschool starting in the fall--2 half days/week. I want to sign up for a "music together" class for us on another morning. Clark is the sweetest baby ever on earth which is not only wonderful in of itself, but also because I can't spend that much direct attention on him with F charging around shouting "Elmo World! Elmo World!" (my dad calls her the blond tornado). I'm so so fortunate that I'm able to use sitters a good bit while trying to organize this huge house. I miss our little one. Seriously. M is really stressed trying to finish his dissertation so we've scheduled sitters 4 eves/week to be here 4:30-7:30 to help me get F fed and in bed. Mitch comes home around 9, so he doesn't see her much right now, but it's got to be done. Will only be for 4 or 6 weeks. I like the company of the sitters and having the help in the arsenic hour keeps me sane.

And the weather here is amazing.

writing rather than napping

The heat finally broke, which is more wonderful than I can explain here. Yes, I'm a steely southern girl who should be used to such excesses but down there is not a building without air conditioning. And this house has none. Usually, I assume, that's not an issue here in NY. Most of the houses we looked at didn't have air, but this past week has been pretty miserable. Now we have a window unit on the first floor and it makes an amazing difference. Getting one on the 2nd floor might make my life complete.

Just a bit ago I put F down for her nap and as I was leaving her room, literally as I was closing the door, I heard Clark waking up. Sigh. He was up more than usual in the night last night so I'm rather jonesing for a nap today, but there it is. Right now he's beside me in his bouncy seat chewing on his hand as I write. He's very cute.

So the girl we hired to sit for us is working out okay. Better than I expected, actually. She's only a temporary fix anyway, as she goes back to school in August, but even for this short time I wasn't sure about her. What's surprising to me is how much anxiety there has been in trying to find someone. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me... I'm choosing someone to take care of my KIDS for crying out loud. When I was a kid sitters were meant only to be sure the kids didn't kill themselves or the house didn't catch fire. I'm not sure anyone expected a sitter to enrich the child's life. But now I want someone who will teach Frances things, help her navigate the world a bit better, blah blah. On one hand I feel this is ridiculous and that it's just the run off from the Baby Boomers and their full toddlers' schedules, the norm they set for parenting. I don't want to be this kind of parent.

Yesterday F and her sitter played outside in the rain. This is one benefit to having a younger person with her... I'm not likely to play in the rain and neither would be someone older. They also recently spent a large amount of time burying and then finding things in the sand box... That's a good life, I think.