Fear Factor Home Edition

I know I said I wouldn't be able to post, but I *had* to...
I have survived one of my greatest fears! I wanted to post about it today while I feel invincible and exhilerated, rather than tomorrow when I'll be sore and angry.

My house is a 1926 wood frame house. We have a coal cellar under the kitchen and then a small crawl space under the rest of the house. Because the house is on wood framing, and the floors are wood, the floors have a bit of give, which causes the china in the china cabinet to rattle. People who are used to homes like this don't seem to mind the amount of give. But I was raised in new-land suburbia where all the houses have concrete subfloors and you can jump to your heart's content and nothing moves. I've always been afraid that I'll fall through the floor.

No. I didn't fall through the floor. Not exactly.

What I did fall through was the wooden trap door outside to the coal cellar. It has been rotten since I got this house, and is one of those things I've never done anything about. We don't use the cellar because there are no steps, and so its been sorely neglected. I guess I must have stepped on it when I was leaning to pick something up today because the next minute the ground was gone from under me and I was hanging in the gaping hole to the cellar! The ground is probably 8 feet down from there. My left leg, left side and arm were in the hole, while my right side was out! I yelled and yelled for D, but fearing that I would plummet to my death before he heard me I wrestled my way out of the hole! I don't even know how.
I'm a little sore and banged up, but ok, and NOT DEAD! Yay for me.
I did call my friend R today and tease her because just this afternoon she'd said that if she had known that there was basement under my house she would have been afraid to fall through! That conversation was at noon today---and look what happened. That jinxer!

But, I'm alive, and thankful.

Which way did she go?

I might not be around much in the next few days. I know you're all shocked because I tend to post a lot. I can usually squeeze out a few posts in a matter of minutes, but these days I'm not going to have too many of those. I am actually working on my thesis, and things are going well. There is hope on the horizon that I might be able to move toward full time classroom teaching at the college where I work--hope that had been lost recently, not just because of my thesis not being done, but because of political crap at work that has made me near ulcers and considering a lawsuit, but I've just tried to push it to the back of my mind because it makes me so angry.
Anyway, that's not what I was talking about. I'm working on my thesis; getting ready for a two day garage sale that is a part of a huge neighborhood garage sale; playing with Liam who is now walking from room to room, rather than just within rooms; getting my yard all springified (yes, I made that word up), cleaning the house, etc. Hrm. It seems like there was some other important and time consuming stuff on the horizon, but I can't rememeber just now. I'm stumped. that might turn out to be a problem later.
oh, yeah, and trying to catch an egg while I have pink lines on an OPK.
So, I might not post, or comment, but I'm going to try to read. You all have such interesting lives that I can't not read...

PS Remind me that I have a post rolling around in my head about greed that I want to write. Its not about greed in general, but rather my own greed.

My body has a wicked sense of humor

So, as I was leaving the OB's office I got a backache, and cramps and sore boobs.
This morning, I get up and there's EWCM. I POAS and there's a faint line for the OPK. Really? Really? I just spent that money only to tell me what my body seems ready and able to tell me (this time around).
But, that's ok. There's something satisfying about seeing those pink lines. And knowing that D isn't leaving until Sunday afternoon makes things even MORE satisfying. I think there's a good chance we'll catch a January hatching egg!

So now that you know more about my body than my family does....

I return you to regularly scheduled programming: All Liam. All the Time.

Dubba Dubba Dubba Blood Test

Since I got home from the doctor Liam has been pushing two cars around (always two of everything, one in each hand) and saying "Dubba Dubba Dubba Dubba" Its a sound that bubbles out of him AND KEEPS GOING ENDLESSLY! Dubba Dubba Dubba Dubba.

I was embarassed to admit to my doctor that I haven't been using OPKs because I'm too cheap, but she's ordered me to start them tomorrow. So, I have to shell out the $. She's also ordered a polycystic ovarian syndrome panel of bloodwork and if we don't get any answers this way we'll start Clomid. I thought for sure she'd tell me that I'm rushing things. I felt sure she'd say Relax. Give it Time. Because I know that most people try a long time more than I have, and part of me is saying those things, so I expected that the Dr. would, too. But, she knows that I'm trying to have more than two children, and that means we will be creeping closer and closer to advanced maternal age with each month that goes along, and she agrees that it is best to try to conceive sooner rather than later. I know that many, many women have successful pregnancies past 35, but I just get really scared about it. There are so many other factors that could affect the relative health of my pregnancy, I don't want yet another set of worries. One of my friends that is pregnant is over 35, and she's got that whole extra panel of tests, and a new set of worries..and I just am so not good with extra worries.
So, anyway, I was heartened that she didn't say I was being ridiculous and that I just needed to relax and let time pass. I really felt that she listened to me.
So anyway, I'm off to get some OPKs and get busy *twinkle*

Don't read this--if you don't want to know

Today I have an OBGYN appointment to discuss my wonky cycles and my empty uterus. When I was last there I think Liam was seven months old or so and I was already having cycles that lasted from 28-36 days. She told me to come back if it continued. Well, 8 months later, I'm going back.
I hate going to the OB. Hate it. No matter how exciting pregnancy is, there is never any dignity in those appointments. Neither is there any dignity in talking about it. But, I appear to have lost all shame when I went through my miscarriage, months of trying to conceive and pregnancy. I found comfort in the online boards and then through blogging, and I found that once I started to let those private things slide from my fingertips and into the internet, I found some semblence of relief. I found friends I could discuss these things with, and I found that just talking about it helped.
I know that a lot of people that I know in real life would never understand this. I know some of them have even experienced miscarriage with a sense of relief, rather than profound sorrow. Some don't understand the link between my heart and my womb. And that's ok. We don't all need to be connected to that part of us the way that I am. But, I am eternally grateful that I've found people who are, people who know what its like to carry an empty womb and feel heavy with sadness about it.
At the birthday party last weekend, my two adorable, and knocked up, friends were telling us that we need to get pregnant. I feel very left out. Our boys are all so close in age--all three born in the same year. I want our second round to be close, too. I know that is silly, and I know that it sounds like the craziest form of keeping up with the Jones' that ever was, but its how I feel.
I have this sense of dread about this month. Their pregnancies are clicking along and passing me by, and if we get pregnant this month Liam and his brister (brother/sister) will be exactly two years apart. I've always had this weird birthday thing. It was how I knew D was right for me--the sign from God, if you will. We have the same birthday. My brother and I have birthdays 10 days apart. My mom and dad are two days apart. I really, really, really want to have another January baby.
But, D is going TDY Sunday, Monday, Tuesday ---and I just can't help but feel like if I don't O on time, we're going to miss this very precious window.
So, I'm going to the OB and I hope that she'll be able to take a peek and see how everything is looking in there. And I hope that she has some good news and that my ovaries are about to burst out a golden egg.

No.

Oh, I'm sorry. It just seems that that is all I'm saying these days.

The more Liam grows independent, the more I have to say No these days. You should see him--his little face all screwed up willing the tears to come. Or, laying prostrate on the floor and crying because Mama said No.
He looks at me with the most incredulous look, as if to say, "What happened to you people? You were so nice for a whole year and now all you do is say No No No."
What's more, he's learned to say it himself. He looks at me, as I'm changing his diaper, and shakes his little finger at me and says "No. nonononono." Or he looks at me from across the room as he's about to touch the wall heater and shakes his little head back and forth with an urgent "No."

We really aren't having to use it a lot, when I think about it. He's a pretty good kid. Now when he finds something new on the floor, or somewhere else, usually he picks it up and hands it to us, presumably because he knows we're going to take it away anyway. But, there are those occasions when No doesn't seem to be working, and I have to go get him and redirect him. Those are the times when he gets so mad at me, and my heart tugs and pulls and shrivels and I feel like I want to hand him whatever he wants, and gild it while I'm at it. I am beginning to realize this discipline thing is going to be hard for me. This parenting thing is going to get harder because now I'm responsible for the hard lessons. Gone are the days when I could just cradle a colicky baby and translate in soothing tones, "Mama help me. Mama I need you." Gone are the days I could just rock him and tell him I love him and comfort him. Now I have to be his foe. His opponent. The one who tells him that he can't do the very things he's aching to do. I have to learn to do these things, and to be this person, with grace, with commitment, and with prayerful guidance.(Not to mention without screaming, or throttling).
I was watching Supernanny last night and I was thinking that I really believe that old adage that you should, "Begin as you mean to go on." I need to begin this discipline thing firmly, by letting him know that I am the parent, and that what I say is non negotiable. But, I also need to learn where that line is, and where I can ease up and let him discover and learn on his own.
I was laying there in bed this morning at 3 am, because that's a hobby for mothers I hear, thinking about this. I was thinking about the horrible, truly horrible, highschool students that I have seen arguing with police. When I was growing up, I would never in a million years think to talk back to *any* adult, let alone the police. These children have no respect for authority, but they also have no fear of authority. I was led to thinking about my own parents, who I think did a pretty good job. They wouldn't have allowed me to talk back to a police officer, and if I had, I am loathe to think about what they would have done. They would kill me.
That fear was always there in the back of my head, a healthy fear of my parents and the consequences they would make me pay for my actions. My parents never beat me, save for a few very controlled spankings in my early years where they had a rule of only three swats. Ours was not a corporal household, but I was always afraid to do wrong, because I was afraid of my parents.
Don't pick up the phone to call child support services. I'm not talking about a cowering-in-their-presence kind of fear, but rather a healthy fear; a fear of disappointing them; a fear of the unknown. And the fear that maybe, just maybe, my parents were just crazy enough to do what they'd repeated from Bill Cosby, "I brought you into this world, I'll take you out of it."
I didn't think they'd really kill me, of course. But those words made me know, unequivocally, that my parents controlled my destiny. My world was what they created, and if I liked the world I had, I had better not rock the boat.
When I was in my snotty, back-talky teen years, my mother was at her wits end and tried Tough Love. She gathered up all my clothes but a few. She took my stereo. She took my bed, and left the mattress. She took everything including my door.
I thought she was so mean, but as an adult I know that she was trying her best to make sure that I grew up to be a respectful and responsible adult. What I thought was a whim, I now know would have been a huge pain in the ass to execute.
As I was thinking of all that, my mind wandered back to those horrible teenagers, trying to imagine the kind of discipline doled out in their own homes. I imagined that they are probably the children who are always shouted at, always cursed, always hit. I got to thinking about how that "discipline" wasn't working, and I finally knew why. Those kids had lived through what I had, perhaps, feared--and they had survived! They know it as a matter of course. They know what comes before and after, so there isn't all that much to fear. Instead it may have just bred bitterness, anger, and an utter lack of respect. And now where have those parents to turn? I think a lot of them let their children run their course, and hope that eventually the legal system will try and sort out their disciplinary failures.
That is not a fear I have for Liam. I know that he will not go that course. There are too many adults around him that he will grow up being afraid to disappoint. He will know that his Mama loves him more than she loves anything in the world, but that she is not afraid to say No and stand firm, even when he's 15 adorable, roly-poly months and his face is all screwed up and he's starting to wail.
No. No. No. nononono.

Yes, God, I'm listening. Or trying to.

Some of you may remember when, sometime last year, my friends were going to put money down on a house that was being built in this beautiful new tract. I was siezed by jealousy. I wanted the brand spanking new house, with all new everything and the space---oh! the space---almost twice what I have now. I just coughed when I saw the $460,000 price tags on these new homes. ( I think its much more now.)
Anyway, my friends decided not to buy and rather to stay in their current home where they are happy, even though its small.
Well, I was just reading in our local paper that the tract right next to that one, which is even newer and the homes bigger, etc., is plagued with problems! It seems many of the houses are inhabited by gang members. These people are dealing drugs in the middle of the street, fighting dogs for sport on the front lawns, URINATING out on the front lawns, standing in the middle of the street and not letting cars pass--or slapping on the cars and yelling at the occupants, fist fighting, you get the picture.
Can you imagine? Can you imagine working hard for your money and buying your dream house and living in this? It doesn't matter if you've worked hard for a $50,000 house or a $500,000 or a $5,000,000 house---Home is the place where people come for shelter after the day. They are where we raise our families, celebrate holidays and traditions, make memories (make babies!). Homes are sacred, and no one should have to live in a condition like this. My heart is breaking for the people who scrimped and saved and sold smaller homes that they loved in order to have bigger and better. Many of these people signed owner occupancy clauses, so they can't even move!
It wouldn't matter how big my house was. It wouldn't matter if I had my dream dining room, or if I had a giant kitchen island, or a garden jacuzzi tub in the master bedroom if I was harassed just getting home. I always say I live in the ghetto, and everyone I know thinks that I do, but I have NEVER had to deal with situations like those above.
I know that God has placed on my heart that I need to be thankful for what I have, and stop looking to other *things* to make me happy. The article in the paper just proved it---bigger does not always mean better. Neither does newer.

I'm listening God, or at least I'm trying...

See my Circus act

We've been busy this weekend! Yesterday we were at the California Poppy Festival all day. Today we had a birthday party for one of Liam's friends and then went to the Circus. While the circus acrobats were impressing us with their feats, I was impressing myself with climbing the bleachers, stepping over seats, etc. with the boy. But, what was even more impressive, was managing to hold a wriggling boy throughout the show without dropping him through the holes in the bleachers to the dropped soda sticky ground below!
We got our pictures taken with the star of the show, an acrobat who happens to also be the Twister World Champion, and also a teeny tiny horse. $5 for a crappy polaroid.
I don't know which Liam liked better, the show or the giant shadows created inside the tent. Incidentally, the husband had never been to a circus inside a tent! Only in a gym...

Tagged!

Carrie tagged me (yes, she's still alive!)

Rules1. Go write weird facts/things/etc. about yourself in my comment box and on your blog, then tag six more people!2. Then leave a comment that says ‘You are tagged’ in their comments telling them to read your blog.

Since I may have been mentioned before that God has blessed me with the Quirky Gene. Nothing about me is normal, it is all weird, all the time, so I had trouble figuring out how to zero in on six. I asked the husband, and he rattled off his top three rapidly.

1. I can't touch cotton balls. I can't stand them and they give me the chills. If you want to torture me, rub cotton balls on me.
2. I can't stand seeing planes in the sky. What is worse than a plane in the sky is two planes in the sky. I have a rule, One sky. One plane. (Incidentally, I live in a really bad place for this rule. I live in the "Aerospace Valley" where they build and fly planes.)
3. I wear cat shoes a lot of the time. Basically they're flat mary janes with cat faces on the toes and tails in the back. They make me laugh. They make other people laugh.
I love them.


My three:
4. I cannot resist buying anything that makes me laugh. My dustbuster shaped like a cow is a good example. I was laughing today when I was dust busting up some crumbs from the counters--its like she's snorting them up in her nose!
5. My house is pink. My living room is red. My bathroom downstairs is purple. My kitchen is green. My office is green and rose. My family room has a garden with a picket fence painted on one wall and bricks and vines on the others. You get the picture. My walls are like giant coloring books for me.
6. I am an abnormal worrier. I worry about everything. If I'm not worrying about something, I worry about why I have nothing to worry about. It appears to be a hobby.

So, that's my weird things. Every bunch has to have a Phoebe, and that's usually me.

I'd love to hear what's weird about you.

Why I really can't write right now....

So, uhm, I guess I'll be up long past his bedtime because I just cain't do nuttin' right now.


(Also didn't go to Curves because I had no babysitter...)

(Still feel better anyway)

(Lovin' parentheses today)

Dance, Baby, Dance* (edited)

I took Liam to see African dancers and drummers today. It was after almost an hour of him dancing that I remembered that my Kodak camera does video clips (with no sound). He was tired by this time and sitting on the floor, but I hope you enjoy it.
He was *so* wonderful that the dancers really got a kick out of him and tried to dance close to him and interact with him. Between dances he waited patiently for them to come back and dance again. When they were done each time, he clapped vigorously.

Thanks Rachel! Here he is, tired after an hour of dancing on his feet, or sitting on the groung swinging around. If only I'd have remembered the video earlier!

Behold my thesis pages

Yeah, well....Avoidance therapy works wonders =)

I sure hope you can tell before from after.
I also did a scrapbook page. I'm refraining from cleaning the fridge. I'm going to start writing NOW.

(I promise)

And now for the Ugly

I haven't been in a good space in my head the past few days, and I haven't been able to determine whether or not its a hormonal thing, something that will pass, or something I'll have to think about more deeply. I have said to myself several times this week, "you are wasting your life." Its been like a mantra.
When I look at my life like an outsider looking in, or from the perspective of the days when I'm really happy, I know that I'm not wasting my life. I have a job that I like, with people that are like family to me. Many of them I've known almost all of my life, and that creates a community where I feel very loved and supported. I married a wonderful man, who is smart and witty and who loves me deeply and is the best father I could have asked for. And I needn't go into how much I love Liam. Then there's my family, who are supportive and loving and fun to be around (most of the time), and my house, despite the long, long list of things to change, is not just my house, but my home.
But, lately I have moments of feeling lost in my own life. I know that a lot of it is because I know that I need to finish my thesis, and I move from fits and starts of passion about it, to apathy, to not giving a rat's ass about it. Part of it is because I want to get healthier, exercise more regularly and get into shape and part of it is because I'm not keeping up with the house like I want to, and part is because sometimes I don't know what my place in this family is. D is so good at being the stay at home parent that I can't relate to posts that I read by women who are talking about how their spouses aren't helpful, don't spend enough time with their children, or just don't get what being a parent takes. Sometimes I feel displaced by the wonderful job that D is doing. Sometimes I feel like its the mommy's job, and I'm not there to do it---so what should I be doing instead? I know its all a ridiculous notion that I've created in my head, because no matter who is at home and who is at work, I'm still the mommy, and there are still fundamental differences in who we are to Liam. I am the nurturer. I'm the back and head rubber.I'm the holiday and memory maker, the clothes buyer, the one who makes sure he has the toys and all the baby accoutrements.
Sometimes I feel guilty, like I should hate being at work. I miss Liam and D while I'm gone, and we talk to eachother sometimes 10 times in a day, but I still enjoy going to work, and going out to lunch with my friends and being somewhere other than home. I have a very social side of myself, and I really need both aspects---home and work to function well. I know this about myself, so why do I let myself feel guilty?
Don't get me wrong. I count my blessings every day of my life. D is worth my house in solid gold to me. I could not ask for a better situation for our family, and we have made the right choices for our family. I know that all in my head, and on most days I know it in my heart, but this past few days have just felt like all the pressures of The Shoulds of my life having come crashing in on me. I hold the bar so high for myself that it is impossible to reach it. I cannot give 110% to every aspect of my life. This has been a problem my whole life. If I cannot do something perfectly, with little effort, I lose interest almost immediately. That was my problem in Math. All the other subjects came effortlessly to me, but Math required me to work at it, and I just flat out refused to do it. Trying made me feel dumb, so I refused to try.
Its funny, then, that I became a Linguist. So much of Linguistics is like mathematics--looking at chaos and finding patterns and order, but for some reason I didn't mind the work. Until now.

So I guess that's it. I need to infuse a little effort into those aspects of my life. At other times in my life when I've felt like this, like there was something gnawing away slowly at me, I made what I call my "bug list"--and write down all the things that are bugging me, and then attacked them one at a time. I probably need to do that now, too, and that will make a world of difference.
So tomorrow I will: 1. Write at least 5 pages on my thesis 2. Box up the things that need to go to charity, and to be put into storage in my house 3. Play on the floor with Liam for as long as he wants me to and 4. Go to Curves.
I am itching to add so much more to that. I wanted to say, write ten pages, walk to curves and do the workout, clean the fridge, box up the stuff, shampoo the carpets, go through Liam's clothes, put in my baseboards, recover some chairs, reorganize the closets, Dance with Liam, play with Liam on the floor, read Liam 5,682 books, scrapbook (well, you're getting the picture).
I'm sticking with only four. We'll see how that goes. I'm sure once I feel that I've established some order in my life, I'll be feeling much better. Sometimes you just have to reign it in...

Dancing is Obligatory

Thought ya'll might get a kick out of this.

For Liam, dancing is obligatory. When there is music, one must dance. He has to drop everything he's doing and move with the beat. I am continually amazed at how well he finds the beat and moves appropriately. If it is a slow paced zydeco waltz, for example, he will sway slowly side to side. If it is fast paced music, he will swing his arms backwards and forwards and side to side in keeping with the tempo while bouncing up and down. I wish I knew how to live in the moment like Liam does.

I'm also amazed at how he knows which remote goes to the tv and which to the stereo. He's almost got using them down. He aims them carefully and pushes buttons, and sometimes they're the right ones.

Yesterday I saw a woman with a ratty t-shirt on. It said, "I do bad things to good people" I was astonished that someone would think that was funny. I was kind of glad she warned me, though, so that I could stand a few steps away from her. I began to think that all people who do bad things to good people should be so labled. I think it would be a wonderful public service.

Don't get me wrong, I like snarky, but that just seemed so mean spirited that I just didn't get it.

Especially for Mama Duck and Rachel

http://www.flickr.com/photos/tags/target/clusters/cameraphone-moblog-candy/

On the Road. Again. Reprise. All of that stuff.

I'm feeling wonky.

My Nana is on her way home today. I feel so sad. I had 23 days with her. 5 we spent at her house and 18 she spent at ours. Liam has grown to adore her, and she was his live-in playmate. I think he's really going to miss her. I was taking some video of them together today. I didn't get a chance to get video the rest of the time because my brother had the video camera, and wouldn't you know Liam wouldn't perform for the camera? Usually the minute he sees her, he wrinkles up his face in a crinkly grin and laughs and immediately starts to do all kinds of things to please her. When she says, "how big is Liam?" He raises his hands above his head and says, "so big" only the big is just a big glop of a word and you only know he's saying big because you've seen this go on millions of times before. But, I did get some video and while I was taking it I was thinking that some time in the not too distant future I will watch this and sob because I will never see her again. She will be 89 in a few months time and she is healthy, but I just can't help fear that every time I see her will be my last. I am so thankful that she got to spend so much time with Liam and I will treasure those memories forever.
The house is going to seem so quiet now, especially since D is leaving on Wednesday for a few days.

In other news, I just found out that my other close friend is expecting a baby in Dec. That means that my two closest friends (of child-bearing age) are pregnant. I am 110% happy for them, but I couldn't help feeling sad for me. I'm trying to not wallow in a pity party for myself, but part of my heart just seems to want to wallow. But it was just this time two years ago that I felt this same burst of jealousy about other people and then my own miracle happened and I got the boy. So, maybe May is my month and maybe just maybe I'll have two miracles exactly two years apart.

Easter Pictures

Just wanted to share two of my favorite pics from today.

Morning Has Broken

Christ is Risen! Happy Easter!

My morning started at 5am when I bumbled through my way getting dressed in a dark house trying not to wake Nana, Liam or my dear sweet husband. My parents picked me up and we went out to Palmdale for our sunrise service with two other Methodist churches. It was held in a new aphitheater, which was really nice, but the wind! Oh the wind! It blew the podium!
We have a tradition of bringing a flower to sunrise service and we put them in a cross that they've made from chicken wire and wood. The flower cross was so beautiful and someone has some really gorgeous lilacs! I won't go into the snarky thoughts I had about the minister. He was a perfectly good minister, but I guess I don't like change much. I was so thankful when my own minister got up there to do the Benediction.
When I came home I snuggled with the boy, then we dyed Easter Eggs (I died Easter eggs) and the hubby made his famous banana chocolate chip pancakes. Now there is a lull in my day where I should be cooking and cleaning, but I'm not.
My SIL is hosting Easter and so we'll be heading there at 3. I'm taking a Broccoli coleslaw that everyone really liked at Liam's birthday party.

Today is our last day with Nana and I'm very sad. I think Liam will really miss her a lot. He so enjoys her and he giggles and smiles for her the minute he sees her. I thank God that Liam has had a chance to meet her (I hope we get her for much longer), and I hope and pray that when he's older he'll remember.

The Good-est thing about Good Friday

I learned something in church tonight.

before the service we were each given a tea light in a little glass. At the end of the service, we were led up to the lenten cross which had been laid out on a table and draped with a black runner. With our lit candles, we sang the last hymn and then laid them around the cross.

When we left, the cross was completely illuminated with all of our light.

And I got to thinking, Good Friday isn't just about our hand in the mob, it is about our hand in the Light.

I hope I can pass mine on to you.

Why is it such a Good Friday?

Last year on Good Friday, I talked about how I feel like it is an anniversary of sorts. You know how every year on your anniversary you become all nostalgic about the days when you just met and everything was new and exciting? That's how the Easter holidays are for me.
Every year at Christmas everyone is talking about how "Jesus is the reason for the season" and don't get me wrong, I know that's true. But, this is it for me. Easter is my High Holiday. Easter is the one that rings with resonance through to my heart.
When it was released, I saw The Passion of the Christ on Good Friday. It held extra meaning for me, watching it on the day that they crucified Christ, and for the first time I felt that old hymn "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?"
I felt like I was there, and that my own hand had had a part. Like the disciples after Christ's crucifiction, I haven't always been wearing a flag claiming my debt to and love for him. But, every year it grows a bit and I get a bit more confident in my faith--and in sharing about it.
When I watched as Christ was beaten, I kept thinking to myself "For me? Are you kidding?"
But, in the last year or so, I get it. I'd take that beating for Liam. I love him with all my heart and soul and want to protect him. I know you'd take it for your children. That's what love does.
That's how much God loves us.
As a protestant, I grew up used to empty crosses. Crosses that reflect the risen Christ. At first I didn't understand why the Catholic church insisted on having the crucifix. But, a few years ago I began to understand that. The cross tells other people I'm a Christian. The crucifix reminds me of what Christ did for me. And I need that kind of reminder now and again. With that big empty cross it is sometimes too easy to pass glibly by the crucifixtion and the awful beating Christ endured. It is too easy to ignore the suffering, and get on with the salvation.
So, tonght I'm going to go to Good Friday services and close my eyes and feel how much God loves me.

PS Not pregnant. I've got an appointment in two weeks to talk to my OB about why my cycles are so wonky. If I get pregnant next cycle the kiddos will be exactly two years apart. that would be kind of cool.

Swinging good time

We can go outside! its sunny and not windy and daddy and grandpa put up the swingset!

I labored over my choice for a swingset for so long that I practically made myself dizzy with possibilities. Since Nana was paying for it, I could have anything I wanted. I went over and over all the various amenities a swingset could have and back and forth (no pun intended) from swing to swing.
I finally settled on the cheapest and smallest one. Can you believe that? Me--of The Wants fame. But, it had a wavy slide (a must on my list) and a two person glider and two swings. It was small enough that we could also put a playhouse and sandbox in the yard and still have room for lots of people to bbq and kick a ball around a bit. Those other swingsets were monsterously big.

So here's Liam swinging in his very own swing.

Spooning

Not that kind.

Liam feeds himself with his own spoon. I am so impressed with him. He keeps going diligently, sometimes changing hands, but he never stops and puts his hands in the bowl. Almost all the food goes in his mouth. At first his right eye was getting a lot of applesauce, but now he seems to know where his mouth is. He's been able to feed himself two large bowls of applesauce. I'm so proud of my boy.
I think he's added "up" to his vocabulary. We'll see. I read some on lexical acquisition from a textbook called Language Development. It says that somewhere around 18-24 months they should at least have a 50 word vocabulary and about 200 or more words in the passive vocabulary. It also said that once they reach that 50 word mark, acquisition comes much more rapidly.
I've got a book around here called How Language Comes to Children which I had intended to read for my thesis. It used to be by the toilet, but it isn't now. I'll have to find it in the mess that is my office.
Tomorrow we are actually staying home. I can't believe it. I have been running at 110 miles an hour for weeks now, and I'm looking forward to being able to stop and look around. I'm not working tomorrow, and the four other family visitors are heading back to Az in the morning, so it was just going to be us and Nana here tomorrow. But, I think the menfolk are going to put up the swingset, so I thought I'd make a tea for the women. I've been itching to make some chocolate scones and pull out my new china tennis/brunch sets. If tomorrow is a pretty spring day that seems like it will be just the thing. Plus, I'll be able to clean the house, too.

Such an exciting life I lead. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Incidentally, I think AF is due tomorrow. Not feeling anything, yet.We'll see if she sneaks in.

Seperation Anxiety

I am suffering from a severe case of seperation anxiety. What do I miss? My family room. My couches. My Tv.
My Nana is staying with us and while I love having her with us, she's staying in our tv room because we don't have a guest room. I didn't realise how much that room meant to me until I was banished from it
She's staying until next Monday and then she'll go home again and I'll miss her dreadfully, but I will be glad to have my room back.
Today we have four more family members coming into town--including my mom's cousin that we haven't seen in 20 years.

Yesterday Liam discovered his toy walker. We've had that thing forever and he could have cared less. Then all of a sudden it is the toy of the hour and he is speeding all over the house. I've never seen anything that made him so happy and so mad at the same time. Our house is not an open floor plan, so there are a lot of corners for him to take. He finally figured out to stop, get on his knees and push from the bottom around the corners and then stand again. I'm hoping that this will lead to walking before his 15 month appointment two weeks from today.
He has been saying a few words. I think he says "Da" for dogs. He says Bye Bye and Hi. Once he said "all gone," but hasn't repeated that. Still no mama. Still no dada. I got out my old child language acquisition textbooks and they're laying about waiting for me to see what he should be doing right now, but I havn't done it yet. I am the laziest linguist ever. I'll need to cram before our appointment.

My posts lately are really ramble-y. I think it is because I am mentally exhausted and I'm longing for days with no wind, so that we can go outside. The day we went to the zoo was just a teaser, it seems. Yesterday the wind was blowing all kinds of things over. Fat lot of good our new swingset is doing us now....

Hippity Hoppity

Easter Bunny

We had Easter Bunny pictures done today. Liam wouldn't smile, but you can see progress from the Santa pictures. Yesterday we spent at the Zoo. The LA Zoo is a very special place to me. I spent some of the happiest years of my life as a keeper's assistant and tour guide and docent when I was a teenager and in my early twenties. It was so wonderful for me to watch Liam squeal with glee while he watched the animals.

For those of you who are curious, I'm not testing any time soon. I shoudn't test until next Thursday because I think I O'd very late, but I also won't test then. Maybe some time in the week after that if AF still hasn't shown up, I'll break down, but I'm trying to hold out this time.

Another installment of I Have to Have It

Over at Cecily's I saw this

Yeah, gonna get that.

So, can I tell you how I was coerced into a spa pedicure and a brow waxing today? Yeah, poor me. I can feel your pity right through my screen.

Yesterday my Nana was saying that she wanted to have a pedicure before this formal 'do that we're going to on Thursday night. I thought that would be a great idea as long as someone else foots the bill (c'mon. Laugh. That one was funny...) Anyway, I don't currently have a salon I like for that, so I was calling around places and finding out what they offer and how much, etc.
Then my mom decides that we don't have time where the three of us can go, so she's just going to take Nana. Ok, I write that off.
They call me today at work. They've found a new salon on my street. Its a great looking place, its clean and its cheap. Can I meet them there in ten minutes. So I take my lunch break and get a spa pedicure. Omigosh was it great. I haven't had one in a long time. They have brand new spa chairs and the massaging is so good and the whirlpool jets are fantastic and they have drinks on the house and the foot massage was heavenly and I was almost falling asleep.
I was done before my mom and Nana and just sitting in the chair enjoying the massage when my mom up and says she has to go and leaves me with Nana. My lunch break is soon over and I'm stuck in a pedicure chair 'babysitting' an 88 year old woman. Just when her pedi is done, she says "Oh! I think I'd like my nails done..."
So I call work and explain to my division office admin assistant that I'll be back soon...I just had to take Nana to an appointment. "Where are you?" she says to me (now if she were anyone other than my best friend and the matron of honor at my wedding, I don't know what I would have said), but I did have the courtesy to blush when I said "Having a spa pedicure."
I could see her eyes rolling through the phone.
While Nana was doing her manicure, I got my brows waxed, because, hey, I was there and my brows looked like cats sleeping on my face.
When it was all finished I was shoving poor Nana and her walker to the car through the rain, took her home, practically shoved her at D and asked him to fix lunch for her and sped out to come back to work.
But I do look good...

**Big Tired Sigh**

I am really enjoying being here at work at 7:30 pm Monday night. It is quiet.
I'm tired.
We came home from Scottsdale, bringing my Nana and her dog. So our house is busy. We've got three dogs, five cats, a bird, the baby, my Nana, D and me there every day. Not to mention my parents, bro and sil, other grandmother and inlaws in and out. I really enjoy it. I always wanted the house where everyone gathers. Don't get me wrong, but sometimes silence and alone time is WONDERFUL. You should see me when we go places, though. Getting out of the car takes awhile. I get out, get the walker, give it to Nana, make sure she gets out of the car ok, get the stroller, get the boy, well...you get the picture.
And yesterday I had a migraine unlike any I've had in years. When I was in highschool I had migraines of the most horrid sort. The kind where you lose vision and one side of your body goes numb. I used to have to go in for IV medication to get them to go away. Then they put me on beta blockers and they mostly went away. But, yesterday it was the whole kit and caboodle...including wretching up everything I'd eaten for a week (or so it seemed).
The day started ok enough. We went to church and the boy was adorable. He is suddenly so friendly. He took my nametag off and tried to hand it to the man behind us, flirted with the woman two pews behind, sat in awe of the organ and only had to go to the cry room during the sermon. My head was hurting a bit when we left, but not bad. By the time we got to brunch I was *sick* so sick that the waitress took such pity on me. She brought me a towel filled with ice to put on my neck and head. And she even gave me one of her prescription migraine pills. Yes, folks, you read that right. Yesterday I sunk so low as to take a complete strangers pills. Me. Miss I follow every rule ever made...
When I told my husband that last night I think he wanted to kill me (he'd have stopped me, but he was at work on base hundreds of miles away...)
Never fear, it didn't kill me, but it also didn't make me feel any better. Serves me right, I suppose.
It was so bad that I had my dad drive us home in my car.
Then I wretched and felt a bit better. While I was throwing up, I looked in the basin and thought, hmmm....does that cancel out those calories from eating Nana's cookies? What a twisted thought. Never fear I hate wretching and do not intend to become bulimic.
So today my skull hurts, but I'm alive, and hubby is home, my house if full of people who love me and the world is spinning on its axel again...

...but I'm still treasuring these few precious hours alone =)

Tell me about your house

I'm addicted to this website
I've joined her yahoo group and now we're doing a getting to know you quiz. Thought I'd post my answers here. If you want to do it, too, don't forget to tell me you played:


>
> 1. Tell us about your house...
We live in a pink 1926 cottage with a porch with an arch and an arch for the porte coche. It is 1475 sqare feet. Four bedrooms, but one we use as a tv/playroom and one as an office, which we call the snuggery. Upstairs is our bedroom, tucked under the eaves, which is linked to our son's nursery by a small hall and a bath between us. I think its really more of a suite, but perfect for a nursery. We have hardwood floors in our living and dining room combination, but we've carpeted the snuggery, the hallway and our family room as the refinishing was going to be more expensive than we expected and we had a baby on the way. We have an eat in kitchen with a bench nook that we eat in every day. I am proud to say that because it is so cozy, my family eats dinner together at the table every day.
Our house is all colors! Our living room is red, kitchen is a vintage apple green with a yellow breakfast nook, our playroom has one wall painted as a garden, complete with picket fence, and the other three painted like brick walls with vines growing on them. Our snuggery is green with rose accents, bathroom is purple, nursery is blue and yellow and our bedroom is soft green. I simply love color. Our house is small and humble, but chock full of creativity and love, and people know that when they get to the door and see a painted and carved scene from Alice in Wonderland takes up the whole door.
> 2. Who lives in it?
Me, hubby, our 14 month old son, two dogs, five cats and a budgie.

> 3. Are you running your house or is it running you?
A little of both. In fits and starts.

> 4. Ironing: love it or hate it? Enjoy it when I do it, don't do it often.

> 5. Who's your favorite Domestic Goddess. Why? Alexandra Stoddard. She makes every day life philosophical.

> 6. Most hated domestic task? The kitchen floor. I just never win with that black and white checked tile. Too many little feet all day long.

> 7. Do you stick to a routine or fire-fight on a daily basis?
Mostly fire fight, though I think a lot more is routine than I realise.

> 8. Any dirty secrets...? I am HORRIBLE about putting my own clothes away.

> 9. How green are you? Not very green at all.

> 10. Favorite housekeeping music, vintage website and soap powder.
Swing music (although right now our house is on a zydeco kick because our young son loves it), I'm really addicted to the Brocantehome website right now, so much so that I can't think of another. and soap powder...I'm embarassed to admit this, but my hubby does the shopping and I always use what he brings home.

> 11. Best ever vintage find? my 1920s couch

> 12. What time do you go to bed? Whats your evening routine like? I go to bed after 11pm. My evenings are usually spent cleaning up the kitchen and talking with my hubby, and winding the baby down.

> 13. Favorite waste of time? blogging.

> 14. Secret vintage hunting ground? church jumble sales

> 15. Do you get much help around the house? Yes, my hubby is home with the baby during the day and he does what he can to help.

> 16. One of the local yummy mummies calls to say she is on her way
> round, but the house is a mess. Quick fixes? Stash the stuff laying around, polish the wood on the mantlepiece and the glass on the fireplace great and sweep the wood floors. Light a candle and put out some snacks. Put on some music, too, makes it seem pleasant and home-y.

> 17. Your signature housekeeping scent? Clean laundry

> 18. No-fail emergency dinner party menu...
lasagna and fresh bread

> 19. Dream home? a huge ornate Victorian, a Greene and Greene Arts and Crafts or a 1920s Spanish

> 20. Martha Stewart: ogre or genius? Both. Who cares if she's an ogre if she's genuis in the house!

Too much information...be warned

That's for those of you sneaks from work who have found your way here ;)

I'm taking the ttc ticker down. Not because we are no longer trying for #2, and not because we've succeded, but mostly because I know it will drive Rachel crazy wondering when I'm going to test. As near as I can figure, I ovulated on day 18, so the ticker is now way off--and I'm not sure how long my luteal phase is, so who knows when I'm supposed to test. I don't want my fellow POAS junkies to be dying for me to test too soon. I don't know that I am going to test anywhere near when I expect AF because of the fact that as soon as I test, AF comes. I feel like I'm peeing on my money ;)

I wish I were charting again so that I could show you all my wonky cycles.

I am really thankful these days that I've been following along on so many women's journeys the last two years (those of you from the TTCAM days, can you believe its been TWO years?). I have learned so much about primary infertility, secondary infertility, and pregnancy loss, and also wonderful ways to complete families like IVF and adoption. I have found that there are so many women desperate for children, so many huge hearts and loving homes that deserve children. I have walked along side each of you, with your heartache and your joy. I have followed so many different journeys that will hopefully lead each and every one of us to motherhood. It has been an honor and a privilage, and I have never been more thankful because now in my own "real" life I know 5 people dealing with primary infertility, IVF and the fears of recurrent pregnancy loss. Two of these people are very close family members. I think I am more equipped now to be there for them. I hope that my own experience, and yours, that I will be able to be support to each of these women on their own journeys to motherhood.

This is why the infertility and pregnancy loss community needs to share their experiences. You never know who among us is also suffering.

Hello from the Other Side of The Wants

This past week when we were in Arizona, we met up with my cousin's wife, her sister and their kids, my aunt and uncle and my Nana at Organ Stop Pizza. The kids were so good and we had a great time. I don't get to see my cousin's wife very often, and I was remarking to her that even so, I've seen her more in the past few years than I've seen my cousin. I've only seen him once since I got married. She said he just couldn't get off of work early enough to come. He's a Big Important Lawyer. Her sister was also there sans husband. He travels a lot on business, I hear. I was thinking, while I was dancing with D and we were passing looks back and forth while watching our adorable son dance (really, I need to figure out how to upload video of him dancing and trying to sway to the beat..) anyway, I was thinking, then, how very lucky I am. We don't have the big house in the gated community, and anything that money can buy, but we have what I consider to be the ultimate luxery: time together. For the first time it really occured to me that we have chosen the life that we live. We can afford the big house, but we'd give up the security of our savings, and we'd also trade the luxery of time together--because he'd have to go back to a 9-5 job. We'd probably have to put Liam in daycare, because we'd probably need the two incomes to afford that kind of lifestyle in California. We'd have to use credit. We might even have to scrimp on our vacations and things like Disneyland and Disneyworld. No more cruises; no more Europe, no more last minute vacations.
Some people are very lucky and have all of the above. They have the huge homes, the European vacations, they have the luxery of the family being together and everyone being home. Some people even do that without relying on credit. But, these are the very precious few.
For the first time I really felt like I was on the other side of The Wants. My life is so easy because my husband is home during the day and is an active and involved dad. Liam has been a joy because we've been able to share the burden when it gets heavy. We aren't overwhelmed by stressors, so we don't fight and we are able to spend a lot of family time together--and can go away at almost any time. I wondered, for the first time, if people ever look at me and think that they want what I have. Have I been so wrapped up oogling the waterfalls into other people's pools to notice the windfall that I have?
I've known in my head all along that everything is a compromise. I've mouthed those words a million times. I've told people we've chosen this life and we've had to give up things--it's all a trade off, I've said. But, this was the first time I found that I wouldn't trade a thing.