I’m sorry for the absence.  To be honest, I’m having a hard time managing my family, responsibilities, and all the things I want to accomplish.  Life is busy, which is exactly how I like it, but it causes things to slip through the cracks, like my blog and vacuuming all the dog hair out from under the furniture.  (If you visit, PLEASE do not look under the beds.)  Since I last posted, Cecilia turned two.  We spent the weekend celebrating, holding two parties, and hosting visitors.  It was a great time, and Cecilia really soaked it all in.  She’s becoming a very bubbly, sweet, and funny girl.  It’s awesome watching her grow.  It’s hard to believe she’s two.

But then there are some days that it’s not so hard to believe that she’s two.  Rather she’s TWO. T-W-O. And everything that comes along with that age.  Not only is she starting to talk in full sentences (”Momma’s car’s hot.) and learning her colors, shapes, and letters, she’s also developed selective hearing, stubbornness, and disobedience.  The last two days, I’ve had to enforce timeouts, which is something I’ve never had to do before.  In general, when she acts up, I try to remove her from the situation, acknowledge her feelings, and tell her why that behavior is unacceptable.  But when she does something like hit Lucy after I tell her not to, I know she’s testing boundaries, and I have to make sure to enforce them.

It’s hard. Very hard. Especially when I know that I’ve chosen to take this on as my job-all day, every day.  I did have a moment today when I debated going back to a paid job, one sans child.  Then I realized that I would just be passing the buck and assuming that someone else would do as good as a job as I am.  I know that’s not the right choice.  I know I need to suck it up and parent consistently.  It’s hard being a mother.  Part of me would like to fast forward through this time, but then I realize that I would miss out on so much.  Cecilia is an absolute joy, even when she’s saying “Potty” to manipulate me.

I’m sitting in my driveway with a sleeping baby in my backseat and listening to a woodpecker attack one of the neighborhood trees.  My laptop is picking up the house’s wifi and playing my favorite type of music on Pandora.  It’s a sunny day, and the car is blocking us from the chilly wind.  It’ so incredibly peaceful.  I know a lot of folks would criticize me because I haven’t been able to master my child’s sleeping habits and the fear of an overly tired, hyper toddler is enough to keep me from moving her out of her carseat, but I don’t care.  For me, the chaos and stress of a forced nap (and usually resulting in an unsuccessful attempt of said nap) is not worth it.  She’s small.  She won’t sleep in the car for every nap.  Life is good.  Besides, if she napped inside, I couldn’t watch the wind pick up leaves, twirl them around, and place them back on the ground.  I couldn’t enjoy the winter sun on my skin.  I would feel obligated to do laundry, make beds, and put away toys.  When everything is said and done, a moments peace and balance is more enjoyable than an empty kitchen sink.

We took the kids outside to play in the snow today.  They both seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.  Well, Cecilia did until I pushed her down our small hill in a laundry basket.  She wasn’t a fan of that.  Lucy, on the other hand, scampered over the snow with delight.  She would run around and take quick turns, shooting snow high into the air.  It was quite a sight to see.  You’d almost think she was meant to be a colder climate dog until you realized she hasn’t pooped in over 24 hours.  I guess squatting over the cold stuff intimidates her.

It’s hard for me to admit this, but the last two months have been really difficult.  Cecilia has reached a new level of curiosity, and she’s always on the go.  I feel like I’m constantly struggling to maintain the house, get my errands run, and take care of my other responsibilities while entertaining her.  Throw in a crazy, whiny dog, and some days I just want to cry.  I feel like I’m not doing any of my jobs well because I’m never able to fully focus on just one task.  Don’t get me wrong.  I realize that multitasking is part of life, but when it takes an entire day to clean up the kitchen because a little girl is pulling on my leg or the dog has run off, it’s hard to give Cecilia the attention that I want to (or exercise the over-excited dog).

With Cecilia reaching the 18 month mark on December 28th, I decided it was time to enroll her in a day school two days a week.  I was really ashamed of that decision.  So many of my friends told me that they enrolled their kids in preschool or a mom’s day out program at two.  While they were trying to be supportive to me, all I felt was guilty for denying my daughter the additional six months at home.  I felt guilty because I couldn’t handle my job as a stay-at-home mom.  I felt guilty because I knew Cecilia would cry because I wasn’t there.

But I also knew it was the right thing to do.  Even if placing my daughter in day school at one made me a questionable mom, I knew keeping her at home and denying myself a break would prevent me from being the mom I wanted to be.  Plus it would give me time to finish my errands while someone, whose sole job is to entertain the children in her classroom, challenges her in just the way she needs.

And when I dropped her off Tuesday, things went incredibly well.  I kept my phone on me at all times and expected a call telling me that she was inconsolable, but my phone never rang.  In fact, she didn’t even notice that I was gone for at least 30 minutes after I left (per her teachers).   According to her daily report, she oscillated between busy, happy play and fussiness.  She also didn’t nap for them, but that was no surprise.  When I arrived to pick her up, I expected her to come running to me.  Instead, she looked up from her activity, brought a toy to me, and then went back to play some more.  I think she likes it there.

And my first day without her, I did pretty well too.  I did wander around town for the first fifteen minutes or so because I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go.  But I managed to go to Home Depot to get gardening starter supplies, the grocery store, and the hardware store.  I also cleaned the house from top to bottom and worked out.

When I got Cecilia home, she nursed and fell asleep in my lap.  I didn’t try to move her.  Instead I admired my girl while enjoying a clean house.  It was a relaxed feeling.  I’ve come to realize that I’m just not meant to be the kind of stay-at-home mom who homeschools her five children, and I’ve accepted that.  My goals had been accomplished.  My baby was happy.  Momma was happy.   I feel secure that, despite all the guilt, I made the right decision.

This may be a bit random so bare with me.  I’m lying in bed with a sick kid and a laptop.  I’m not sure if that makes me a good mom or a weird internet obsessed mom, but until I get sleepy enough to drift off myself, we’re here.

Yesterday, I posted the following on my Facebook profile: “I gave up soda to set a good example for the baby, but now all I want is a Coke Zero. SO.BAD.”  That resulted in lots of comments telling me that I was insane for that choice. That is, perhaps, very true, but I really feel like it was the right thing to do. 

It definitely wasn’t  intended to condemn others. I LOVE soda.  I love it so much that I can consume a 12-pack in a day and never think about drinking a drop of water.  On the other hand, my body hates soda.  Artificial sweeteners give me a killer headahce - one that analgesics can’t touch - that remains until my body has processed all the fake sugar.   I guess I could drink non-diet drinks, but I don’t think we even need to go there on what they can do to your body.

However, this decision has nothing to do with the headaches or the other health concerns related to artificial sweeteners.  To tell the truth, I didn’t really care.  Those headaches suck, but the delicious taste of Diet Cherry Dr Pepper far outweighs the pain.  We’ve decided to cut out soda because of Cecilia.  You see, we’ve recently fell of the wagon - the healthy lifestyle wagon.  We’ve been eating junk food like it’s going out of style, and last week, I noticed Cecilia looking at me and signing “More” as I snuck Hershey’s Kiss in my mouth.  (”More” is her way of asking for a bite.) Also, when I’m drinking a soda, she points to the can and signs and says “Yes”.  (Sign Language is awesome for babies until you realize that they comprehend a lot more than you want to admit.)

I really don’t think soda is bad, and I don’t want her to think soda is bad.  It’s all about moderation, but unfortunately, Chris and I suck at moderation.  So until we can get that a mastered, I’m planning on keeping soda out of the house.  I’ll still have my caffeine (Thank you, God, for coffee), and there will be occasional Sonic runs (large Diet Cherry Dr Pepper & a small ice water, please).  But we’re going to keep the cans & plastic bottles out for a while.  Lord help me.

Wishing you and yours the merriest of Christmases and a blessed new year!

We have two new addictions in our house, and it’s starting to infect my brain.  Cecilia has recently fallen in love with the Wiggles, and, unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know that they’re an Australian musical group with a television show for children.  Cecilia is completely mesmerized by them and often brings me the television remote with a sad look on her face in a desperate attempt to get more Wiggle time.  I’m embarrassed to admit the amount of Wiggles I let her watch.  At first, it was just a morning thing - a way to entertain her at her  5:30am wake up time while I drag my sleep-deprived ass to the coffee pot and zone out as it drips into the carafe.  But then she started dancing and singing along with the songs, and oh my gosh.  How do you resist a year and half year old’s desire to sing and dance?

The Wiggles songs are catchy and really easy to learn, which is fantastic for Cecilia.  Again, super cute to see your baby throw her arms up and yell, “Go! Go! Go!” Unfortunately, it’s not so great for Momma.  I find myself with a constant loop of Wiggles running through my head.  I fall asleep to songs about Dorothy the Dinosaur and wake up to songs about Wags the Dog, all in my head.

My personal latest obsession is the BBC’s Radio 1.  I have access to it through my satellite radio in my car and my kitchen.  I really, really enjoy listening to British music and news.  It’s interesting to hear another perspective on war, pop culture, and other newsworthy events.  I’m also really digging Brit pop.  I’ve grown weary of American stations constant need to play vomit-inducing Nickleback and American Idol contestants.  (Don’t get me wrong. I do like a couple of them, like Carrie Underwood, but the rest? Um, they’re game show losers. Why do they deserve record albums and air time?)  I’ve been exposed to some great British bands, like Chase & Status and Mumford & Sons.

Needless to say, it’s been a bit of a cultural experience around here, and Cecilia and I are having a great time.  However, it’s really starting to get to my brain.  Part of me wants to start calling college “uni” (short for university) and pronounce tomato “ta-mah-to”.  Oh? And my personal inner dialog? She has a British accent now.

Wishing you and yours a very happy and blessed Thanksgiving!

This is part of Cecilia’s daily afternoon routine.  I’m not sure if she’s yelling at the cars that speed down our street or if she’s singing Indian folk music.

A few thoughts:

1. This picture is so pretty that I used British (or Canadian) spelling of color.
2. Unlike most pictures, I did not edit Cecilia’s eyes.
3. My sweet girl turned 16 months old this week!