It's been awhile

Well, it certainly has been awhile since I posted. I doubt anyone bothers to even check in on the blog anymore! Sometimes it seems like everyone else has their muffins in the oven before I even get out the recipe.
Life here is busy like a blizzard. There is the press of constant change, and things to get done, but a feeling of being under a blanket and not being able to get anywhere quickly. And the work that just was finished is promptly being undone and, like the shoveling, must start again soon.
Isaac is 15 months now, running everywhere, and not in the least bit interested in holding my hand. He will hold on if he must, but for the minimum amount of time possible. Braeden was, and continues to be, an enthusiastic hand-holder, and sometimes won't move forward without his hand in mine. I have one wildly enthusiastic explorer headed for the road, and one thoughtfully cautious planner, standing still gripping my hand. It gets a bit tricky at times.
The kids are day and night in so many ways. Isaac is allergic to tons of things, most notably wheat and eggs (with a dairy intolerance). He LOVES food. He inherits my serious passion for eating. Only, there are so many things that he is not allowed to have that he howls in protest when he is not given a bite of something. He just knows he is missing out. Braeden has nary an allergy. His body easily tolerates anything that he deems worthy of crossing his lips. It just so happens that very few things make the cut. He is so particular that we were fine with him playing with Trival Pursuit pieces at 8 months old, because there was NO WAY that those puppies were going in his mouth.
Issac moves quickly and impulsively these days. He is passionate about dirt. For a long time it was part of his food passion, as he would eat any that he could get his hands on. Now he likes to sit, dig, roll in, lay on and, yes (still!) eat the stuff. He dives right in. Right now, Braeden looks at the dirt. He asks me where dirt came from, and why plants always grow in the dirt. He wonders why dirt sticks to the bottom of your shoes and if it has germs in it. He asks what it used to be before it was dirt. He is curious about it, but he is not interested in digging around in it... And so it has been with these two.
I love being a mother to these two. It is so interesting to have given birth to such amazingly different souls. I want to be more like each of them, and their contrast makes each of them shine. Today, right now, I feel so lucky!

Good morning photos

I have been sending David pictures of the boys each day that he's been gone. They are fresh from sleep and snuggly then. Here they are.

Welcome back, grumpy pants

Well, my best friend pointed out to me yesterday that I haven't added to my blog since June. Of course, there was a 2 week vacation to Arizona in July (actually, quite lovely) and then the business of returning home. I felt like I was too busy to write, too tired, etc...etc...
But, today I realized that I have been grumpy, not myself, burdened, edgy and stir crazy. I think I was afraid to see my voice in print. As a wise woman once said (Mary Pipher) "if your message is 'life is sh*t, spare the reader".
So, here I've been for a few weeks, edgy and anxious. The kids are hard, the house is a mess and on and on. Then, a blessing came (but disguised as a burden, ha!). My husband, wonderful soul mate, got called away to Wisconsin on a business trip. Gone from 5 am Monday morning until late Friday evening. Ack! A week with the kids with no lunchtime visits, tag-team dinner and bath, help with Braeden while I put Isaac to bed.
What will I do if I am just simply out of energy? How will I survive when I am pulled to the edge?
This sense of needing to have my energy up to take care of the family, the urge to have a sense of sanity and peace, the desperate need to be able to cope with the demands by myself has given me an incredible gift.
I have given myself permission (gasp!) to slow down with the chores, the enrichment, the constant feeling of being 'on the job', and to replace these things with the self-care that will allow me to cope by myself. Today, for the first time in... how long?... I felt at peace. When I came back to taking care of my kids my parenting came from the right place in my heart.
So, I know I'll forget, but here it is in print! We MUST take care of ourselves in order to be the best parent for our kids. Yes, yes... so many things must be done and they are all important, but becoming a rusty, bent nail doesn't exactly help build the house.
So, there it is. I am missing the company of my husband, and his sweetness, but here I am taking care of my two kids all alone for the week, and I am happier in my skin than I have been in awhile. Happy enough to blog again. Thanks Kim!

Uh, oh! It's the COPS!

Yesterday we went to the library to check out some books for the week. For some reason, I thought it would be a quick trip in and out (have I not learned anything in the last 3 years?). I popped a quarter into the parking meter and away we went. We had to push the automatic door opening button. Then we had to take the elevator. Then the stairs up to go to the bookdrop that is outside (that one is more fun, duh!). Finally... movie choice for the week, and then books. (Books are a random impulse choice of whatever is nearest. Anything I like is rejected out of hand, slipped surreptitiously into the book bag and then loved as the favorite once home). We stopped at the fountain outside and splashed in the water, passed the patch of strawberries and had to count all the tiny berries we could find. Up the outside stairs where a long discussion ensured about whether or not a bird would poop on our head (nearly happened last week). Ah, top of the stairs, almost there... but wait! A friendly police officer asks if Braeden wants a sticker. He's shy. He doesn't answer. We wait... finally, YES! He wants a sticker. The officer and I chat about our kids (he has 2 boys also, and don't little boys just LOVE their mommies...) Finally, I drag Braeden past the crane... and find a parking cop. Giving my car a ticket! ACK!
Thankfully, seeing that I am the beleaguered mom who was chatting with her partner, she gives me a break. Smiles and asks me to have a good day. Braeden said maybe he could be a police officer. Cool.

A nursing career for me...?

One fun thing about being married to me (I'm sure David would say) is that I change my mind about what I want to be when I grow up. Weekly. Or, more often. This week, what about a nurse? I'm sort of serious, but anyone who knows me would think I was crazy. I am great in emergencies but I swoon at the sight of an infection. Isaac's circumcision was enough to make my knees weak, but I love helping people and am un-phased with almost anything that comes out of a human body. I have fainted in hospitals before, and almost always get light-headed when I'm there. I tend to feel slightly nervous that there are so many sick people there. But, I think I'm nervous because I'm powerless to help.... so, what about nursing? I don't think it's quite a fit, but it is getting close to the thing that I am looking for. Barbara Kingsolver said that happy people have found a way to use themselves like a good tool. I'm now just looking for where I belong in the tool shed.

Very un-Martha

I saw a giant book of "keeping house" at the hardware store during one of our near-daily trips. It had tips for how to keep your home tidy, and advised that your appliances are the "furniture of your kitchen. You should treat them as such". I do find myself lounging with my head in the fridge sometimes...
Waking up this morning, I find my house to be very un-Martha. The furniture in the kitchen is covered with crumbs. Everything seems covered in crumbs. I think the laundry room furniture is full of wet towels, strangely. There is a copious amount of brightly-colored plastic sprinkled liberally through each room. My youngest child decided that he loves to devour books. Literally. Ergo, our house is also full of tiny pieces of wet, masticated cardboard. Each room has a theme of disorder that can't quite be tamed.
The giant book is tempting me. If I just had all those excellent tips, I'll bet I would find the time to treat each room like the important part of the home that it is. The book, I'm sure, must have all the answers. It was a GIANT book... calling me toward the perfectly ordered pantry, a kitchen that has clean furniture, everything in its place.
I would go out, right away and get it but there is no room on my bookcase and I have NO IDEA where the baby stashed my car keys. So, I remain, very un-martha.

Joys of Remodel...

So, we love our house again. It turns out all these tiny, insignificant things that "don't really bother us" really bothered us. We have the best contractor ever, and he has put in new french doors, a new back door, a new kitchen window and overhead lighting, and he has trimmed all of our windows and door frames. It is so lovely! Money is always a stessor, as is wondering where to draw the line. The dust and noise and power tools lying around the house are exciting... (Isaac is drawn toward danger, inexorably). But, with all that, last night I sat down on the couch and looked around and felt invigorated and at home. It made it a bit nicer to get up at 5:30 this morning with the baby, too. At least (though dusty and a bit disordered) the house looks pretty. Pictures coming soon... as soon as I can find that darn card reader. I know where it USED to be...