A flirty flirt of the most flirtatious order...

I think my son is developing some crushes. Not on some of the pigtailed little girls we've seen in playgroups, mind you... but the Moms. Multiple times (and at least twice now with one rather nice Mom) he has marched over to them smiling, and practically draping himself over their laps, proudly displaying his latest car or truck and putting his head on their shoulder. If they happen to be standing, he parks himself practically on their feet with arms held high in the air and all but demanding,"Pick me up!" All of them have been terrifically nice about it, but really. It's getting a little embarrassing. I mean they are there with their own kids to wrangle, not having to cart around mine!

In not-so-terrific-toddler-news... I'm sure many of you have heard by now of the Mom and toddler who were kicked off a plane after a flight attendant suggested medicating the boy when he wouldn't quiet down and stop saying, "Bye-bye plane."

Speaking as a Mom who has had to help deal with a crying baby on a two hour flight, stories like these just make me shudder. Children have just as much right to be there as any passenger, and I have certainly heard worse than this on many a flight. There can be such - dare I use the word - discrimination surrounding issues such as this. Breastfeeding is touted as the best thing for your child, but women who choose to breastfeed, and do so in public, are often made to feel embarrassed or even told to go use the public restroom (yuck!). And children on a plane should apparently be seen and not heard. It wasn't even a tantrum! Was it just the luck of the draw that the only reaction my crying child got was sympathetic looks? (OK, perhaps some weren't so sympathetic, but I think they at least recognized that we were trying everything we could...) That and the loan of a portable DVD player and a Baby Einstein DVD from the Dad traveling behind us.

Meme-ing my way to a new profession?

I was tagged today by the lovely Sara at My Happily Ever After with a "career meme." I surprised myself by needing to take some time to ponder my answers. The question is: if you had the opportunity to do a 1-year internship at a company or in a field different from your current company or field or specialty - what would be your top 5 choices? Here goes:

1. Director of the Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame. Here I could wildly indulge my love of all things fantastical.

2. Director of the Rodin Museum. I love Rodin's sculpture as well as that of Camille Claudel. I think it started when I saw the wonderful movie on Camille Claudel's life starring Isabelle Adjani. It only continued when I got to visit the museum during my time living in France. Breathtaking pieces... and one can only mourn the work that Camille is reported to have destroyed.

3. Ben & Jerry's ice cream taster. I am borrowing this one from Sara. Especially during this time of year, how can your thoughts not turn to ice cream? I am always tickled by their creative flavors... And that noise you hear is H stomping his feet in the background and screaming BRIGHAMS!

4. Beekeeper with my own line of honey and honey products. This one would probably surprise those who know my "ick" factor for bugs. My Grandpa T was a beekeeper for many years, and we always had gallons of honey around the house... so I have fond associations. We even used small pots of honey as our wedding favors in 2000.

5. Bakery Owner. I lived in a tiny studio apartment in the 20th in Paris, and the ground floor was a bakery. It was heavenly! Most people giggle at the thought of my making actual meals, although there have been some improvements since the birth of Daniel. But I am a baker from way back...

And there you have it! I believe the rule is that I should tag 5 people for continuing this meme... I am going to depart from this and just say that anyone out there reading who feels so inclined - join in! Have fun with it! You may discover some interesting things about yourself!

Clutter

Like many people, life has increasingly become an exercise in managing the clutter - Especially now that there is "baby clutter" to go with the "mommy and daddy clutter!" Receipts and bills of all kinds, entertainment mags, articles and recipes have morphed their piles to include baby scribbles and parenting mags... among other things. Enter the NeatReceipts Scanalizer... A handy little device that looks like it has a million uses: receipts, recipes, kids artwork... suddenly you can scan and store all these items, and have the ability to use the computer to search for something. This would be quite a boon for someone like me who is known for pulling magazine articles, only to have them swallowed whole by the amorphous mess that has become my bookcase.

Also: H's genealogy project on both the family and the G.A.R. could take an interesting turn if we suddenly had the portable ability to scan both old photos and documents. Much less labor intensive than all the writing in a library that has been going on. The website 5 Minutes for Mom is sponsoring a giveaway of ten NeatReceipts Scanalizers. Check them out!

Pregnant, huh?

The Parent Bloggers Network has posed the question: What's the most annoying preggo or new mom question you've ever been asked -- AND -- what's your best, snarky "wish-you-could-have-said-it" answer. I've been mulling this over the past few days, and - whew - it's a hard one. I've come to the conclusion that I must have had a pretty respectful pregnancy. Not even much of a run-in with those "touchy feely" types who just have to rub a pregnant belly when they spot one.

But... and I think I have a tie...

It used to drive me outta my head when I was in the late stages of pregnancy, and doing my best hippo imitation, and I would run across people who just didn't know what to say. Rather than a question, they were usually declarations in the vein of: Pregnant, huh? Poor thing, carrying that around... Must be almost time? Must be twins in there! And on, and on.... Usually as I puffed my way to the employee cafeteria, or out to my car. These would earn the commenter a small smile, and not much snark as I was usually trying to catch my breath. Honestly... I am not much known for snark, even in my private life. Just not in my nature. But... I used to fantasize a re-enactment of a scene straight out of Seinfeld where Kramer stops to talk to a woman on the street and says: "Oh! Congratulations!"

Woman: "For what?"

Kramer: "You're pregnant."

Woman: "I am not!"

And leaving the culprit to squirm...

In a close tie, I am getting more than irritated with the folks who stop on the street, in the grocery store or in a restaurant or elsewhere to talk to me/comment on Daniel and I come to realize they are using the pronoun "she." A haircut is certainly in the works for the little guy, but we currently have wrestling/screaming matches involving getting in his general vicinity with a toothbrush or cutting his fingernails. Until that calms down somewhat there ain't nobody getting near him with a pair of scissors. And - I confess - I get to enjoy the baby curls awhile longer. But honestly... the kid could be wearing his shirt with the digger emblazoned across the front, his Thomas the Tank Engine sunglasses, dirt encrusted under his fingernails from his own latest digging expedition and screaming at the top of his lungs about climbing up the slide at the playground and I hear how cute "she" is. Thank you, but the next time I will be sorely tempted to drop the kid's diaper and in the words of Austin Powers show off the "twig and berries" just to prove a point.

I am a reader. I always have been, as my overflowing bookshelves can attest. Don't you wish sometimes that you could just hand someone a book and say,"Quit bugging me. Read this." Or in cases like above don't you wish you could have just handed them this? I know I do.

Update

H called yesterday, frantically plugging change into a pay phone. Verizon cut off his international phone. (Uh, thanks guys.) He can't get out until Tuesday (tomorrow). The only other option was a $1,200 flight on Iceland Air which was earlier. (Yeah, right.) These complications are certainly not his fault... but all told I will have been "single parenting" for nearly two weeks.

I have this mental picture of each of us standing on separate continents yelling help.

There are no words...

On September 11th my former company lost two executives on one of the planes that crashed into the twin towers in NYC.

My husband has been vacationing with friends in Scotland. He was due to return today, but someone crashed a flaming SUV into the terminal building in Glasgow. I was just beginning my freakout when he called. He's OK, although his phone battery was low and he couldn't talk long. I'm betting that the first chance he will have to return home will be tomorrow. I'm still shaky, but.... thank God he's OK. As happens with these incidents, more news is breaking...

Nostalgia

This is a favorite photo of me. A great big pile of leaves just sort of speaks to the way childhood should be, don't you think? I need to ask my parents for a copy of another favorite... I'm Daniel's age, maybe even a bit younger, wearing nothing but a diaper and sitting on a red pedal car at Grandma and Grandpa T's place in Wisconsin. I wonder what ever happened to that pedal car? My brother would probably remember too of many adventures frantically pedaling that thing up and down the sidewalks. A quick internet search found me Pedal Cars and Retro Collectibles so that you can see what I mean... Although many of these are too "glam" for what I am talking about. I remember our pedal car as being a frame, seat, four wheels, pedals and a steering wheel. It was red, and I think there was some white writing on it... perhaps it was even a Radio Flyer, but I would have to ask if someone remembers.

My sister in law and I were lamenting the "fear factor" (for lack of a better word) we have for our children these days. Pedaling a car up and down the sidewalks for hours. Slamming out the back door to go play in the yard, or with/over at the neighbors and not coming home until dinnertime, are just a few of the things that I remember... There was an attempted abduction of a nine year old in my sister in law's neighborhood. Even before this incident, she confessed that if she leaves her little guy in the backyard (fenced) even for a brief moment, say to go wash her hands, she gets nervous. I certainly can't imagine leaving Daniel. Starting school is going to be difficult, I think...

Hug

The HR department at my former job published a calendar one year that included all the oddball holidays that are out there. You know the kind: International Smile Day, National Pork Grilling Day, etc.

Who knew it was Screaming Toddler Week?

And how is it that Screaming Toddler Week has coincided with said screaming toddler deciding to start giving out real "honest to goodness" hugs? Don't get me wrong, Daniel has been affectionate and a cuddler - well, on his terms. He is a boy with lots of places to go and things to do after all. But after a screaming, hair pulling, howler-monkey kind of day this week Daniel looked up at me and said, "Hug?" and wrapped his little arms around my neck. Thereby melting me into my socks for the rest of the evening. Just for good measure one of these was bestowed upon Dada as well.

TVLand Purgatory

Tired of the reruns already? Visit 5 Minutes for Mom and leave a comment on this post for a chance to win free Netflix.

My New Merit Badge

(Deep breath). Hi! My name is Susan, and I am a worrier.

(Hi Susan!)

Yes, I admit it. A worrier. I've earned my merit badge in worry many times over. It seems to be hardwired, however as I can recall childhood worries as varied as:

Do those dark clouds on the horizon mean another tornado warning?

Is Mom lost? We've driven by this store before...

What do I wear to school tomorrow? And is there any possible way to get myself out of gym class again?

Flash forward into adulthood, and the worries are still there. From paying the bills to the war in Iraq to is my child still breathing once I put him to sleep at night... I try hard not to be consumed.

One of the blessings of children is their ability to be in the moment. Glee or tears are both ripe fruit for the picking... savoring a banana, dancing to Elmo, and screaming in frustration as Mom tries to brush your teeth all carry equal weight. I try to borrow these tidbits from my son's life. To be a more "in the moment Mom" and less "worry Mom". To enjoy the sticky fingers and squishy mud puddles because the laundry will always be there later... these are the memories I want for Daniel as he grows up.

Marching to my own beat

Otherwise known as: How did I get here again?

If you'd asked me growing up, I would have said that I was the type of person who would be living in the hometown she grew up in, having gone to the local university, married a classmate and be managing my 3.2 kids and life quite nicely.

I went instead to the humongus state university an hour and a half from my hometown in Michigan. A university where I knew no-one going in...

Upon graduation lived for 6 months in Paris, France. A stint that included selling muffins from a shop near the Pompidou Centre, and fond memories of my little studio sublet apartment with a view of the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

A move to Sacramento, California for a few years. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but ultimately not for me.

New England beckoned. Rich in history, and someplace I had never been, I moved in with a friend from high school who had arrived a few years earlier for grad school. In what feels like the blink of an eye I fell for H and we are now chasing nearly 2 year old Daniel past the slate headstones and through the old New England Cemeteries we previously traveled as "just the two of us." Who woulda thought it?

(My Grandpa B was a sign painter and a glass blower (neon sign tubing) by trade. A superb craftsman, he made intricate models of ships and cars, a doll house and many other woodcrafts. I can recall a Nativity scene one Christmas season. A gruff ol' Grandpa, he was a fisherman and a golfer, and even when his eyesight was going he loved to play cards. It was only years later that I learned that while I knew he played the trumpet, he also did so in a clown band. Marching to his own beat on big floppy feet. He's on the far left in the above photo...)

For my next trick...

Subtitled: One of those days?

I ambitiously thought I might make muffins this morning for breakfast. Can't explain how they wound up upside down in the oven...

This is going to be an interesting cleanup job.

Hello, Sigmund?

OK. So I know it's a phase, but man oh man Daniel. Do we need to start getting up at crack-of-dawn, peel-the-eyelids open 5 ayem? And combine it with wailing for "Da-Da!" at earsplitting levels? Mama is developing a complex here.

At least it wasn't a cuss...

Driving in New England has turned me into an aggressive driver. It's survival of the fittest, really. The commute to my former job included a traffic rotary of epically asinine proportions. Large numbers of lanes shrinking to one only to expand again, while at the same time offering four-plus choices of destinations with everyone jockeying for position to get where they needed to go. Needless to say, the pre-Daniel commute started to include much colorful language.

We've now been blessed with construction in our much-smaller town, which happens to be nearly outside our front door. Needless to say, leaving our street has become trickier. Daniel and I sat in the car yesterday, hoping for the tiniest window in traffic. Exasperated, I finally said," Come ON people, get a move on!"

A small voice echoed me from the back seat," Pee-pow. Pee-pow!" I was still hearing this as we prepared for bed last night.

C is for Chatterbox

Since having Daniel, I've noticed my parents like to mention that I talked alot as a child. H wants to know what happened, as I am now known as a person who considers her words carefully before speaking. It sometimes must give me the appearance of being a bit shy, but it served me in good stead as an executive assistant at my former company in my former life.

Daniel's 18 month appointment was marked by the pediatrician suggesting that he might need to be evaluated for speech delay. No sooner did I panic, and begin making appointments than Daniel seemed to decide: "OK, time to talk."

He's been making up for lost time ever since. I'm not sure that I can even give an accurate count of words at this point, as his vocabulary has exploded. Mama, Dada, car, ga-ga (this has meant dog from day one, don't ask!), kitty, pig, cow, apple, milk, cookie, cracker, cheese, walk, shoes, bag, box... the list goes on.

Last night we sat in the rocking chair, for a little pre-bedtime cuddle as we usually do... he looked up at me clutching his blankie in one hand, and his "ga-ga" in the other and said, "Bed?" So I kissed him, put him in the crib and he promptly rolled over and was asleep in about 0.2 seconds. (Please don't be under the illusion that bedtime is this easy every night!).

It is an awesome, amazing and at times totally weird transition to go from being the caregiver and trying to figure them out: Is he hungry, tired, bored, need to be changed? To having them start to request things from you like "Milk?" And last night's "Bed?"

Wow.

Just because I really need to see the sun...

This is me. I think I am roughly Daniel's age in this photo. I am hoping to do this with him soon. Or even take him up to the beaches in Maine. Grandma and Grandpa have a wonderful lake in Wisconsin as well.

New England is just getting dumped on with rain. It has also hovered around 50 degrees (or less) which has had me increasingly depressed. As a nearly-two-year-old Daniel is more on the move than ever, and the weather makes it hard. Would it surprise you to hear that his most recent favorite word is "Walk, Walk, Walk, Walk...?"

To Infinity and Beyond...

In the category of odd things you must see, I present... The House on the Rock. Located in Spring Green, Wisconsin, H and I took the tour with my mother a few years ago. Designed and built (begun in the early 1940s) by Alex Jordan of Madison, WI this is actually a complex of rooms, streets, buildings and gardens covering acres of land. I did not realize at the time, but discovered in checking out their web presence that there is actually an Inn and resort to stay at as well.

The top photo is an outdoor shot of "The Infinity Room"... truly a sight to see as it juts out 218 feet over the valley (unsupported) and has 3,264 windows for walls. Much of the rest of the house contains the various collections of Mr. Jordan, including items such as the world's largest carousel, antique guns, dolls, mechanical banks, areas devoted to aviation, nostalgia, a nautical theme (including a Titanic display, and this creature below...) and much more. It is an attraction that at times defies description. But if you find yourself in Wisconsin, I encourage you to swing through!

Eeewww!!!

Any tips about how to clean out the inside of tub toys? Things are getting a bit icky in there...

The Wheels on the bus...

(Boo on Blogger... no matter which way I type, insert picture or publish this post Blogger is deleting all my line spaces. Sorry about the hard-to-read format. Hopefully this will wear off by the next post...)

Do we have a boy in the house, or what? Our house is starting to resemble a parking lot, as Daniel is in the midst of a full-fledged obsession with anything wheeled. Car, truck, tractor - you name it. He heads out to the driveway during our walks and marches around cars like a little inspector, patting the tires and touching the emblems on the front and back.

Trash day has suddenly become an event, as Daniel must head for our deck to watch the huge truck rumble through, lifting bins overhead to dump bags into the back.

I have a class scheduled for him once a week at 9:30am. This week, at quarter to nine, the boy was still snoozing. Ordinarily I subscribe to the philosophy "let sleeping babies lie..." But we had places to go! So I walked into his room, opened the blinds, started rustling around saying, "Hey sleepyhead..." His little head popped up, sleepy eyes opened, and he looked at me and said, "Car???" So I suspect that there are even a few motorized dreams creeping in there...

Recovery Mission

I finished out my pregnancy with the usual litany of "pregnancy woes" one hears about. Not being able to see my swollen feet, peeing approximately every 2 minutes, unable to sleep at night for the aching in my hips and other joints. Daniel arrived 5 days before his anticipated due date, and needless to say at that point I was ready...

Unanticipated were the symptoms that plagued me even after all the requisite recovery from labor and childbirth. Without getting into all the gory details, I was left wondering if I was suffering the onset of Irritable Bowel Syndrome or IBS. There were whole stretches of time where I was fine, but these would be followed by painful flare-ups of other symptoms that were gradually starting to affect how I lived my life. Much testing and "wait-and-seeing" followed, only to find out mid-April that I have/had gallstones! I am now recovering from gallbladder surgery, and the surgeon is pretty convinced this has been my problem all along. Why this took 1 1/2-2 years to diagnose is beyond me. I am starting a campaign where I am telling anyone with gastrointestinal distress to have their gallbladders looked at... The test is a simple ultrasound!

In any case, I am looking forward to being more in the swing of things where this blog and other projects are concerned. And especially looking forward to a Spring/Summer/future as a much happier Mom, friend and person now that this problem has been identified and tackled.