In Like a Lion Out Like a Lamb

With March sucessfully checked off my to-do list I'm reflecting on the last month, and year.

We bid farewell to the crib, started potty training and generally experimented with greater independence. We finally agreed on big brother's extracurriculars and they seem to be helping behavior in general. We made our own splash pad and some cute shirts. We went to the zoo and Mommy and Daddy even made it out on a date. So, yay March!

The power struggles have truly begun. Teething kicked into high gear again. Teething is the song that never ends. My pain got worse, fear intensified and doctors visits became a weekly event again. So, boo March!

Spring is in well...full swing. That means summer is almost here. Summer means science camp for big brother and more events to attend in general. It also means saying goodbye to Isaac's beloved second grade teacher (boo!) and this house (yay!)

Last March Riley's biggest accomplishment to date was sitting up and yesterday she pointed to my huge tub of gummy bears (stressful times) and said "get gummy bears!" She's definitely my daughter. In a few weeks she'll actually be hunting the eggs. Strange and exciting this, growing up stuff.

Last March I still had a flexible spine and hardware in my hip. Last March...that sounds like another century or even another planet. Riley was a tiny baby and now she plays with babies. She loves her babies so much they get fed, rocked, bathed and even read to. Actually we're pretty sure she thinks that "baby" is a verb meaning to take care of or help and "Baby" is the noun that refers to her and sometimes her dolls.

Adios, March 2011.

Easter-ish Artsy Stuff

I wanted to occupy the kids without making a huge mess. I thought it would "take my mind off things" to make some Easter decorations.

I was super excited to try out my owl paper punch. Isaac and I used the owl punch to decorate paper we cut into an egg shape. It worked out really well. Here's a tip: don't store your washable and permanent markers together if you're going to let the toddler color. She was happy with the pile of markers I gave her for a while, but soon she was pulling the box to her side of the table and trying to uncap Sharpies. Good thing the lids were on tight and she grunts when something's hard to do. I think her picture came out lovely.

Isaac's Art Riley's Art My Art
Close up

Am I a bad mother for taking a close-up of my own? I really liked how it came out. I know I should have drawn some birds if I was gonna write twitterpated but you can clearly see the extent of my artistic ability.

Our Gallery

Paging Dr. House!

I went to the doctor today, armed with my planner so we could schedule the hip replacement. I may not be in control of... well anything in my life right now, but my left hip has betrayed me for the last time and it is outta here!

I've said it before and I'll say it again I'm wrong a lot. The MRI gave a clear image for the first time in over ten years because there's no more hardware in there. Wouldn't you know it, I'm not the only one who was wrong. We did not schedule a hip replacement because the Ortho's diagnosis was wrong.

Don't get me wrong it's bad just not the exact kind of bad we thought it was. I was stunned. My whole course of treatment thus far (back surgery, hardware removal from my hip, all the physical therapy, the tests) was based on an incorrect diagnosis. Now I know how the patients on House feel. Not that I'm dying, but chronic pain and a toddler at home isn't really living.

The Ortho insists I go for a second opinion. He doesn't want to do anything more until someone else looks at me. Ugh. My medical history is so complicated and no one takes my insurance. My other choice, which isn't really an option, is to give up.

I can just stop perusing a solution. I can load up on the cortisone injects which we thought killed the circulation in my hip in the first place. I can pop pain pills which will make me apathetic to the pain without relieving it. Someday when I can no longer bare weight at all I can just stop walking.

Are House and I the only ones who care WHY this is happening? Or how to stop it? I was wrong about both my medical issues, but having no answers for the moment feels scary and hopeless. I've been through this before and I know how hard it will be to be heard. I know how much work is involved in getting answers. Damn it.

I wish I could give up, but that would require a lobotomy and I'm maxed on surgeries for one lifetime. Maybe, 80's movies and chocolate will inspire an enlightened new plan or at least trippy dreams.

Mrs. Cellophane

Today I was invisible, ineffectual and unimportant. "You can look right through me walk right by me and never know I'm there." I'll do jazz hands later.

I got all the basic needs met for the kiddos. I thought maybe it was going to be a good day, for a Monday. Riley and the universe were in on the cosmic psych headed my way. Little Miss Roo came to me with a book picked up her sippy cup and lead the way to her room. Mommy's dream come true, right? She climbed in to her bed and waited for me to read her story. She had her story, her sippy cup of water, a doze of Tylenol (teething),and was all snuggled in 15min later.

Inspired by the easy nap time I got out of my pajamas and into some real clothes a mere 4hrs after the kids were dressed. I crawled around the living room picking up toys and set the Roomba loose. All the sudden after laying quietly in her bed all that time Riley was now wailing at the baby gate in her doorway. Ignore her I thought. Finish what your doing, she'll settle down. It's always a hundred times harder to get Riley to nap when Isaac's home not napping. As far as settling done, wrong.

She was an unattractive shade of red, almost purple, and screaming when I finished what I doing and turned around. She also somehow had managed to get the Tylenol that I left "out of reach" on the changing table. Stupid teeth. I went to the gate and told her to go lay down and she tearfully obliged climbing all the way up to her pillow. My poor girl. I came in once she was laying down and rubbed her hand until she fell asleep.

It's hard to keep a stir crazy 8yr old quiet during nap time. I resorted to bribery. I gave him candy. For the record I should have known that was a stupid plan. Now it was mid-day, pouring rain and he was sugared up and louder than ever. We had company as soon as Riley was up and finished with lunch. Riley and Isaac were both super clingy. Riley was clingy to me. Isaac was clingy to the company he'd never met before.

It was strange to meet my mom's childhood friend. Isaac decided if everyone in the room wasn't laughing or praising him he hadn't spoken loud enough. So at raising levels of volume he exclaimed things like "They LICK their eyeballs!" or "I know about giant squids". It was hard to follow anything that was going on because Riley was glued to me and insisted we read a book. I was relieved when they left it felt so chaotic.

The weather was awful, Isaac was hyper, Riley was teething and the living room was "mostly clean" so at that point I gave up. I turned on an episode of 30 Rock and send Riley to play with her brother. I kept looking at the clock thinking "it has to later than that. The kids were making a huge mess and lots of noise but not killing each other so I didn't care. All that looking at the clock..

I knew Isaac needed to be at TaeKwonDo at 6. I had reminded him at least 3 times over the course of the day. I blew it. I completely spaced. I got an upsetting phone call and I was anxious about a doctor's appointment the next day. My head wasn't in the game by evening. Isaac was surprisingly cool about it, but I had horrible guilt. Mike was completely unreachable for an hour and I was starving by the time he got home.

I was trying to explain how I hadn't felt like anyone was listening to me all day, but he was completely distracted and didn't hear me. Ugh, maybe I'll be "back" tomorrow...

Spring Break Your Mother's Back

When I was growing up I loved long breaks from school. I was thrilled to play all day. Especially because when I was growing up long breaks from school meant Christmas or Easter were days away. Super exciting.

As an adult my feelings about breaks from school are the exact opposite. I feel completely unprepared and overwhelmed. Oh, no! Spring break, again?!? Ugh. What will I do home with both kids for the whole week? I need to think of fun, cheap things to do that won't exhaust or injure me. The pressure has increased since Isaac started kindergarten. It takes a lot more to engage him and a lot less to hurt me. Plus now everything has to be appropriate for a toddler and a second grader.

It really is a hard age difference. I'm so happy they have each other, but it's tricky to give the right amount of encouragement and independence to each of them. For example when we go to the children's museum Riley comes with Mommy to the gated baby area where she can go anywhere she wants and can still be seen. Isaac is free to roam the rest of the first floor, but has to check in periodically. It's also a free trip because we're members. Short of the museum or playground there isn't much they can both do.

It is especially a problem now that spring break is a full month before Easter. There's a lot less fun goings on to keep the kids busy. Riley's not at an age where she can make though a movie in the theater. So, that leaves us with a trip to the museum, playground and possibly the Mall for an Easter Bunny photo later in the week and the rest is TBD. Netflix is helpful. Grandparents willing to steal them for an afternoon are a blessing. The rest, much like parenting in general, is a messy, chaotic, stressfully funny, making-it-up-as-you-go-along mystery.

We Don't Live in Parking Lots

I may have told the story before, but it's a good one (and a short one). When I was a kid my parents had to have disabled parking signs put up in front of our house. My neighbors would throw parties and people would park in front of our house and we'd have to trek up the block. So the city came and put up signs. One day, years later, a woman parked there. A cop cruising through the neighborhood saw her car and stopped to write her a ticket. She came flying out of a neighbor's house. When the cop continued writing the ticket she exclaimed. "But this is a residential area!" to which the police officer replied, "Where do you think handicapped people live? In parking lots?!?"

I never wanted to be an advocate for disabled rights or a role model to disabled women or anything like that. I spent high school being referred to as "the girl in the wheelchair." Don't get me wrong, it was never in a malicious way. I was very well liked in school. It just wasn't how I thought of myself. The whole is more than the sum of its parts. It would be like being "the black kid" or "the fat kid". Those things may color a person's interactions with the world, but in my experience that's not how people define themselves. I know I never thought of myself as "the girl in the wheelchair".

I never thought about myself that way, so I never expected other people to. I've had friends tell me that they forget about it. I always tell them that's because I do. For years I never did anything to draw attention to my disability. I didn't hide it either it was simply a fact like my height. I never paid it any more attention than I thought it deserved. It didn't limit me anymore than my height did.

I was afraid to be "that girl", but more than that I just never thought about it. When I got into an amazing acting program for college I knew I was living my dream, this was it. It took me a year to realize, like my height, I brought my disability to every part I played. It was a Holocaust play I was killed in the end and a friend said "oh yeah, you wouldn't have been able to work." I was stunned. She isn't...Oh! Now she is. Woah.

I lived my dream. I finished my BFA and went out into the wide, wide world. I worked myself to the bone to survive and keep the dream going despite fresh hip injuries. It was all behind me now. All the surgeries I had as a kid were over now. I was an adult now. I was focused, determined none of the other stuff mattered.

New York gave me one good starring role in a play and kicked my butt thoroughly. Los Angeles was my home as it turned out. I paid my bills and worked as an actor. I was really happy. I thought that I'd be there forever. I had done everything I was supposed to do: got through school with good grades, got a degree from an excellent school, moved to the right city, used every opportunity to my advantage and now it was only a matter of time.

All that stuff I hadn't been thinking about made its presence known. I felt so betrayed. I felt like a failure for not being able to get through it alone. I thought I'd take a short break, have a change of scenery and come right back.

Age, injury, pregnancy weight gain, and an extremely active lifestyle conspired with those pre-existing conditions. How could I have known a bomb was ticking all that time? Six months away from LA turned into almost as many years as I lived there in the first place. How could I know after almost ten years without one there would be more surgeries? I never intended to trade everything I had for motherhood and a rollercoaster of orthopedic procedures.

I hate my body for betraying me. If I can't have a career I want to be super mom. My body says "No." I can't ignore it anymore, apparently 27yrs was the limit on that. I never liked it when people said "Life is what happens when you're busy making plans." The other one I hated is "Sometimes on your way to a dream, you find a new one." Not me. I thought those sayings were for the unfocused and lazy.

Now here I am, so many miles from where I started. I’m forced to think about my disability and consider more surgery. Trying to cope with the death of my dream and embrace a new one. So now for better or worse I'm the "Disabled Mom." Sigh...

I suppose there are worse things to be. I can't help, but feel strange letting go of all the things that worked for so long. This is where life took me with no regards for my plans. I write about it. That's what life is now, at least for now.

Fairy Tale Breakfast

Today Isaac's second grade class finished their unit on fairy tales and had a celebration, which parents were invited to attend. It's the last day of school before the break so they didn't have to wear uniforms. His teacher requested they dress "like royalty" and gave them all crowns. Isaac wore his knight costume (or jedi knight costume, depending on the Halloween) over a button up shirt and cargo shorts. It just proves what resourceful parents can do with a plain tunic - we've gotten alot of miles out of that thing.

Promptly after arriving, my kids ate the rest of the class under the table. Here'a shot of Sir Eats-a-lot and Lady Ultra Feast

After breakfast it was show time. The class read a fairy tale poem. After that they each read the summary of the fairy tale books they wrote.

Isaac's book wasn't really the most original premise, although most of the other kids wrote stories called 3 Goats and a Dog or 3 Dinosaurs and a Dragon. Isaac's was called Coraline the Story. It did however have hands down the best summary. The wrap up question was "Do you like black cats, magic and mild violence? Then read my book." Sooo Isaac! He was quite the performer. Riley was a captive audience until she noticed the balloons tied to the microphone.

The balloons.
Isaac's Book Summary (for your view pleasure):

It was a great morning. I wish I could have been more involved with Isaac's class this year, I really miss being a part of stuff like this. I took it for granted when he was younger that I'd always be able to be part of his educational experience. Between my hip and Riley I think this is the second event I've attended all year. I'm really going to miss Isaac's second grade teacher. She's amazing.

Isaac and his teacher.
Riley and her heart's desire.

Literary Little One

When I was single I read a book a week. I have a library card from every city I've lived in. I love the library. Lucky for the me my kids do too. I don't remember when I started reading books to Riley. I do remember the first time a Mommy friend made a comment about it and I felt guilty for not reading enough, she's was about 5mo old. It was a few months later that Riley began to "look at books" rather than solely teething on them.

Riley reading at the doctor's office. About eight months old.

Perusing the junk mail. Nine months old.

Like most other milestones she's on the fence about, her friends really encouraged her. They all love books. Riley has never harmed a book on purpose, except for one moment of frustration when she was teething. Sometimes she turns a page a little too enthusiastically, tries to move a piece of the pop-up image that doesn't move or wants to know where the fuzzy part of the book is coming from. She has never torn out pages, pulled covers off or colored in a book. She loves them and Mommy talks to her alot about not hurting books. Only 1/3 of her big brother's books survived his toodlerhood intact. He loves to read, but displays little respect for books themselves. I digress, Riley's friends all enjoy books.

Reading with Boo and Mr. C, the 3 musketeers. Eight months.
We used a pop-up book to lure all the babies to the couch for pictures of them in the Valentines shirts I made. Seventeen months.

Boo and Roo checking out Boo's favorite book,Dog. Eight months.

Riley started independently looking at board books. I had all the other books out of reach so we only looked at those together.

This set of sea themed board books were her first favorites. Ten months.

First priority book, second diaper. Eleven months.
Dr. Suessin' it up, eleven months.
The Very Hungry Caterpillar eats double lunches, plus snacks just like Riley! Starting on the classics at Grandpa's house. Eleven Months.

When Riley's first birthday came and two important thing happened: 1)She got a ton of great new books 2)We finally weaned. I decided she was old enough and moved all of her books within reach. I encouraged her to look at them by herself or with Mommy. Weaning actually reached completion a few weeks after her birthday, but books were a huge part of getting her to bed without nursing. Books became an important part of nap and bedtime routines.

Reading one her new birthday books with Grandma. Twelve months.

Reading the reigning favorite of all the books she owns, Giraffes Can't Dance, with Ya-ya. Twelve months.
My genius brushing up for the Scrabble world championship. Fifteen months.

Riley really started growing up fast after her birthday. She stopped breastfeeding entirely, started walking and got her big girl car seat. Sitting upright and facing front is a much more conducive position for reading. Also, much better for snapping pictures from the passenger seat.

Considering Little, Big on the way to a play date. Sixteen months.
Reading That Kind of Mother at seventeen months. Apparently it's so good it makes her toes curl.
Notice the tiny fingers and tuft of hair of my little book worm. Also, she's reading a library book resting on a library book. Reading in the waiting room while I had my MRI on St. Patty's Day. Notice her shiny pick tote bag, stylish.
One more from the same day. Yes, she's reading an Avon catalog. We brought four books, but apparently she was low on lip gloss. Eighteen months.

One of the toys Riley played with most was a hand-me-down musical book that plays nursery rhymes. It was a lifesaver in the car or waiting rooms.

Boo and Roo looking at the musical book together. Almost seventeen months.

Riley's daycare has "book time" after snacks and meals to give her daycare provider time to sweep before she puts the babies down. It started because there was a little one who won't sit still for stories so she started reading to the kids when everyone was strapped into their highchairs.

Riley reading at daycare. Almost seventeen months.

Riley and I read together a lot. Before naps and bedtime she insists on at least two renditions of a book. Good thing Mommy's a classically trained actress. During the day she'll pull one off the shelf and run to me signing or saying "peez" (sometimes both). Books and donuts are the things I consistently hear please for, she must be mine.

Reading a pop-up book at the children's museum. Sixteen months.

Reading the lift the flap book about the zoo together and realizing I have no idea what sounds giraffes and peacocks make...Eighteen months. Riley's tie for favorite book she owns I Love You, Stinky Face. Eighteen months

Switching to a big girl bed only intensified the need for reading before sleep. It was the part of the routine she liked best. I tried to keep things the same to ease the transition.

First order of business in her new bed? Read an Elmo book. Eighteen months.

Guest bedtime story reader, Aunt Jessie! Yup, that's Stinky Face, again. Eighteen months.

After any bedtime story worth its ink it is sleep time and sometimes during! Right now we're loving the How Do Dinosaurs series especially How do Dinosaurs Say Good Night.

Apparently, she fell asleep during one of Corduroy's more thought provoking adventures
It runs in the family. Isaac age eight years.

Stomp! Stomp! Little Dinosaur

Pushing through it, like labor. That's what I've been doing all morning. It's self-destructive, but seems less so that sitting on the couch fixating.

I was so stressed last night I decided to forgo the spaghetti and homemade meatballs in favor of toast. I munched on buttered toast and (don't judge) watched Teen Mom 2. There's a baby on the show with orthopedic issues and I have been yelling at the TV for months that she has CP and to get her to Shriners. Well this episode they took her to the Shriners Hospital in Kentucky. They weren't able to diagnose her yet, but I recall being told I wasn't diagnosed until I was 3yrs old. That's my two cents anyway, good job teen mom getting her to Shriners. I'm still betting on CP.

This morning I woke up knowing I need to get busy real fast. I got Riley beautifully attired and then throw on whatever came to hand. After Riley ate 2 scrambled eggs, some banana and drank a cup of whole milk (She's a lumberjack and she's ok...). We were off. Luckily we have a birthday party this weekend and M's mama says to get her clothes, YAY! So, I pulled into Target parking lot about 9am.

You may recall how I feel about carts. Of course I scanned thoroughly for carts near spaces before picking a space. I had the option of unloading the wheelchair and holding Riley on my lap, but then how would I hold the stuff? I could walk with crutches and have Riley wear backpack, but again with my hands full of crutches and the lead to backpack how would I carry the stuff? So, I decided pushing Riley in the cart and having her wear backpack just in case was our best bet. I loaded my crutches and baby bag into the cart first. Then I unbuckled Riley from her carseat and she gleefully helped me strap on backpack. She sat happily in the cart singing "Baaapaa, baapa!" as we rolled in the door.

Some of you may not know about shopping at Target between 8-10am, but it quiet and calm and almost entirely populated by moms with small children. I always liked it better in the early morning. We ran into a mom from Isaac's school with her toddler who politely waved hi to Riley. An employee of the store seeing Riley backpack broke into song.

After 2/3 of our mission was complete Riley got antsy and fussy. "Do you want out?" I asked. "out!" she confirmed shaking her head and reaching for me."Here we go", I thought setting her on her feet and feeding my hand through the loop on the end of the lead. Riley has walked with backpack before (it's always hit or miss), but never in a store. She marched along next to me, sweet little dinosaur. I'd say "stay by mommy. Stomp! stomp! stomp!" and she'd comply (for the most part).

When we got to the register and I told the little dinosaur it was cart time she wailed and pulled against the lead. It backfired because she fell and ran to me for comfort and was back in the cart before she knew it. Not any easy feat for the old back, youch. I swiftly thanked her for being such a big girl walking around the store and gave her a container of Teddy Grahams. As soon as we swooped in on a checkout with no line I pried her fingers loose, had it scanned and open in her eager fingers. Toddlers and snacks. I was just thinking how if you weren't conscious of it you would just continue the feeding habits from toddler-hood indefinitely and blow your kid up like a parade balloon. We made out of Target with a happy Riley.

Emboldened by her behavior in the first store and her pleasant calm snacking mood I ventured into the Party Store. She was sweet in there too. She didn't try to escape one so I bought her bubbles. When we got to the parking lot we blew bubbles for a while before we got in to celebrate and give Mommy a rest. Once we were on our way home I heard roaring from the backseat. "Oh, are those bears roaring?" I asked Riley. She proudly held up a bear and growled. It was painfully cute. I asked if there was a Rileysaurs eating bears in the backseat. She said, "Yesh" and growled.

I followed up my first shopping trip alone with Riley in months with a trip to the kids museum. I used the wheelchair, but like I said self destructive lesser of 2 evils. Riley had fun with her little boyfriend and was soundly asleep before we left the parking lot.

I used her nap as an opportunity to blog and make phone calls. After which there will be lunch, homework supervision, emails and some tidying up to last me until my appointment. Bring on the busy.

To The Doctor...

Eeeek! So there's the orthopedic issue and then my other scary medical issue. Today the other issue was up. I double checked the appointment time after my screw-up last week. I was quite literally shaking like a leaf all morning. Once Riley was dropped off at grandma's Mike drove me the doctor. He wasn't supposed to, but like I said the shaking.

Just because you've survived horrible things before doesn't mean that you get used to it or better at it. In my experience the knowledge of what to expect only goes so far in comforting you. The repeat assaults on your body and psyche actually wear you down rather than build you up. Nobody likes to feel like they've lost control and there I was seeing my second specialist in as many weeks.

I always go into these appointments more worried that they'll tell me I'm fine than that they'll have bad news. At least if they find the issue it can be treated. If they say I'm fine they're either not taking me seriously (which is usually the case) or that I'm crazy (it's never been the answer, yet).

I left Mike in the waiting room so when they asked me to undress I was flailing, kicking and trying to you my crutches to push my pants off. I did it on my own but by the time the Dr. came in I was panting and my pants were in a heap in front of the exam table. The Dr. didn't tell me I was fine. The Dr. listened, asked a few questions and did an exam. Afterward the Dr. ordered "the first available [medical test]."

The lady at the desk said to come back at 4pm for the medical test. I was relieved to get it all done in one day. However, by the time I got home the doctor's office was calling to say the insurance wouldn't allow them to schedule another appointment on the same day. Really nice. So, I'm scheduled to do it tomorrow. After it's done it'll be the usual 24-72hrs they give you for all medical test results to come back.

The waiting begins. I almost feel like it never ended. I hope this isn't as bad as I think it is. I hope I know one way or the other soon.

Big Shoes to Fill

Riely loves shoes. I have no idea where she gets it. She tries on her shoes, mommy's shoes, daddy's shoes and if company leaves their shoes unattended she'll get them too. She begs for "shss"! It's how I get her to come get dressed some mornings by asking her to pick some shoes to wear. She'll also happily "helps" you put on your shoes.

Toddler's Eye View of the Zoo

Does anyone else remember Zoobilee Zoo? It was grown-ups with latex animal noses and face paint. I remember one episode vividly in which the lion who was a painter ended up in a world with no color. I suppose they resolved it with some singing and dancing thrown in, but I have no memory of a resolution. Hmm.. Nevertheless, on Sunday we headed out to adventure that is the zoo.

I took the kids to the zoo back in December to celebrate Riley's boyfriend's first birthday. It had been cool weather so all the fountains were off and it was long enough past Christmas that most of the tourists were gone. Today we went with Riley's best friend, Boo, and her family. This time it was hot and sunny so the fountains were on and it was a weekend so it was crowded. Wet screaming kids everywhere. That being said my kids had a completely different, but no less thrilling zoo experience.

The kids were amazing. I couldn't have been more pleased. I think they matured over the 4 month since I brought them last. Maybe it was because Mike joined us this trip or because we had a 3 to 1 adults to 18mo olds ratio, but it was an incredibly easy-going fun trip. Maybe zoo trips get better with practice like date nights. This time we headed straight for the petting zoo in the kids area.

Yup, that's a goat eating some kid's unattended popcorn from a stroller cup holder. Where's the hand sanitizer?

Here's Riley warning Boo that there's a goat behind her.

They had as much fun as you can have in a pen of 20 goats with the nerve to call itself a petting zoo and then we moved on. They all rode the train that did about five trips around the track at walking speed and loved it. After that they found the playground and screams of delight and roars of laughter echoed through the climbing structure. Proof once more of the contentment a one year can find anywhere. It was rough pulling them away, after all you can't climb on the playground any day of the week (read with heavy sarcasm). Alas, we tore them away because there were animals to be seen.

My upside family

Isaac went off with Boo's Grandma to see the dinosaur exhibit. I hear he went through a time machine to get there and slid down a dinosaur's back. Pretty darn cool. The rest us of took the girls to see the African animals. Zebras, Rhinos and Elephants Oh my!! The girls even fed the giraffe.

Boo and Roo loved on their souvenir giraffes, but no wild animal could compare with the allure of the elephant transfer crate. It was just a giant green box, but up they went stomping and laughing.

It was around then that my camera battery died. So, tragically there's no footage of our after zoo picnic. It was wonderful. We made the mistake of letting Riley sit on the table while we were setting up and then sitting anywhere else wouldn't do. We ate sandwichs and fruit and cookies. The girls ran through benches like they were a maze laughing. After that to prove she's my daughter Riley insisted on taking the stage. Mike helped her climb onto the amphitheater stage and pretty soon Isaac and Boo joined the cast of "the run around screaming show".

Wonderful day. Good friends, giraffe feeding, benches and tubes to climb and good food.

The Way We Were

It's been about 6mo since I weaned Riley. Amazing to think that I have made it 6mos passed an event I was convinced would never happen. Occasionally I have this strange sensation I equate to the phantom limb sensations amputees suffer. I'll be sitting on the couch and all the sudden I swear I just had let down.

Maybe, it's just things constricting because of cold or maybe a muscle memory. Who knows...I know it takes a while for hormones to regulate and the body to get with the program. I feel like a ghost of my former self especially up top.

I often miss breastfeeding when Riley has a bad fall or is teething. I sometimes envy my friends who still have that option in their arsenal. More often I miss my incredible rack. Overall at this point I am completely at peace with that part of the mother daughter relationship being over.

Recently I had a nightmare that Riley was hurt and crying. I scooped her up in my arms. I remember feeling crushed with stress and fear, but no idea what was going on. She was inconsolable. I held her and spoke softly, but to no avail. All the sudden she turned her teary face to me and latched on! I was stunned and I had no idea how to react. I knew she couldn't nurse anymore. I knew I should do something, but I had no idea what. I woke up completely confused.

What the heck does it mean? Am I unable to comfort my baby? Not maternal in some important way? Or more likely I'm clutching to a time that's over. The time when Riley was little. When I could get around before the pain became unbearable. The time when I wore my tiny baby in a carrier on my chest. The time when I could do a load of laundry and cook dinner myself. The golden period of being a "stay at home mom."

Just a theory

Steppin' Out With My Baby

I hate late. I'm always 5min early when I'm in charge. Often these days my ability to be punctual is subject to whims of a 1.5yr old. I digress, late is exactly how date night began. I was ready at 4pm and still recovering from my MRI the day before. I sat on the couch dressed and ready, waiting. I supervised Isaac's dinner. At 5:30pm Isaac was on his way to TaeKwonDo. At the same time Riley was waiting outside to be picked up from daycare and Mike was, of course, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Once Riley was delivered to Grandpa and Ya-ya we were off. The plan had been a nice sit down dinner and some alone time before the play, but we were down to 30ish minutes. We swung through a drive-thu and sought out a good parking space. Sitting in front of the theater shoveling food wasn't how I'd imagined my evening. I was super excited for the kids' fun night ahead and equally thrilled to see the play.

We were warned it was 3hrs long with 3 intermissions so we hit the bathrooms first and I brought my pillow. I read Whose Afraid Of Virginia Woolf in college and later saw the movie, but this was my first time seeing it live.

It was wonderful. It made me miss acting so much. I read the bios in the program and felt so deflated. I am in no shape to make it through a three hour performance. I always loved small cast shows. I think that's why I loved playing Estelle in No Exit so much. Maybe it's shows with small casts and alot of intensity like Virginia Woolf.

After the show we had planned to go out to dessert to make up for not going out to dinner. By the time the show was over it was 11:30 and I was tired. Also Riley played with her best friend all day and Isaac went from school to TKD before they both went to grandpa's. I missed them.

Soon enough we had scooped up the sleeping/sleepy kiddos and headed off to bed. Not a romantic fantasy, no real quality time to talk, but one heck of a show. I remember the first time we went on a picnic as a family we forgot plates (among other things). I laughed and said we'll get it right next time. The next time we had plates, but no bug spray. It continued on that way for a few picnics, but now-a-days we have a system down. Date night's like that.

We were horribly out of practice and it had it's hiccups. Mike turned to me on the way home and said "we'll get it better next time." I think so. I hope so. He also pointed out that with one date night every month or two we'll never get in the swing of things. Good point. With the best of intentions I can say I hope "more practice" comes to pass.

Bad To The Bone

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! Green Beer? Corned beef and cabbage? Parade? Nah. I think I'll get an MRI.

This time I was assured that since we were only looking at one hip it would only take 45min. I didn't get off on the right foot that day. I woke up feeling stressed and rushed and when Mike made a criticism of something I did I collapsed into a tearful heap. It was going to be a good day. Family in green-Check. Dressed in clothes with no metal-Check. Breakfast-Check. Let's go get this magnetic resonance imaging on.

I messed up the appointment time I thought I was supposed to be there by 9:30, but apparently I was on the books for noon. Oops. They talked to the tech who said I could stay and have my test because his next patient was booked for a double study and never made it all the way through. I feel her pain. Phew.

This time my mom held Riley in the waiting room, sound asleep. I shuffled in eying the hard table I would be strapped to unable to move for the next 45min of my life. The tech sweetly assured me we'd get this done as quick as possible and offered me a blanket so I'd be comfortable.

There I was laying on the hard table, strapped in, blanketed up and being slid into a tube like a plunger into a syringe. It was a full minute before the machine kicked on roaring in strange inconsistent non-rhythms. Even though I had been warned to hold still I jumped, thank you startle reflex. It was a few minutes later that my nose began to itch. I was beyond frustrated and I became hyper aware of the awkward way my hands were resting on my collarbone.

I tried to shut out the trapped feeling and all the noise the best I could. I'd close my eyes and try to call up positive images, eventually the starting or stopping of the noise around me or an imaginary baby's cry would jar me back to reality. Back to my coffin. Back to the intensifying pain spreading though my lower back into my hips. Back to the reality of what this test means.

At the very end I managed to doze off, sometime after he told me there were 15min left. I was rudely awakened from have formed dream images by the machine shutting down. I peeled myself off the table and shuffled out the door thinking "I've done it. I given the Ortho everything he needs to replace my hip." Here we go.

I'm Too [Silly] For My Shirt

St. Patrick's Day shirts were unfortunately one of those attempts to cheer myself up that ended in tears. It seemed like the perfect activity to distract and engage me, but after 3 successful t-shirt making projects I changed it up a bit and had some hiccups.

I started making shirts for the kids last St. Patrick's Day. I thought it went well. They wore them and I got pictures, mission accomplished. I hadn't realized before undertaking that project that those white Gerber onesies have to be stretched out really well before you add the image. Obviously you can see from the picture it came out fine, but it didn't last the day.

In between this St. Patty's and the last one I did the Valentines shirts this year. They worked out well. The issues I had were finding toddler sized shirts to begin with (I went to 5 stores) and the dark red background was pretty, but problematic. In the end they were simple enough to make and a big hit.

This year for Isaac's shirt I found a drawing of a Leprechaun trap. We've always made traps, but this year it was a school assignment. His shirt and Leprechaun trap came out great. No problems or tears.

Close-up before I embellished it
Almost finished
All done and modeled by the expert Leprechaun trapper himself
The Trap

The trap included pennies sprayed with gold paint (by Dad of course)as bait underneath a net (my dishwasher basket) balanced on a rainbow pole. The sign on the front said "Go Away Leprechauns" a little cleverly applied reverse psychology.

It was Riley and her best friend's shirts that gave me trouble from the get go. I was able to find 3T shirts at Joanne's early in March. I also decided I wanted to do some pretty, girly ribbon around the collars. I found beautiful sheer green ribbon with flowers stitched down the center. Of course I didn't notice it was Disney brand Tinkerbell ribbon until I saw that it was $6 A yard (gulp). It was beautiful though. So armed with shirts, ribbon, puffy paint and an idea for a girly shirt I set to work.

I found a beautiful shamrock with a bow tied around the steam for the main image. I decided to write Mommy's Little Leprechaun in another shade of green. The first trouble came when the printer spit out the whole image as a green blob. Apparently, you need to really stick with very large images when you did this kind of project. I had failed on that front. Also I had chosen a font to close to the color of the image. Mike patiently adjusted the color and futzed with printer until we had a usable image.

Three guesses what the next hurdle was?

Yup, the writing is backwards. Would have been nice to notice before I ironed them on to my only two white toddler-sized shirts. Apparently, I had correctly reversed the image and than Mike re-reversed it trying to make it print. Whoops.

I pressed on tearfully attaching the ribbon to the collars and trying to figure out how this could be salvaged. I admit to having a total meltdown.

I used fabric glue.
The finished collars (More on those in a minute.)

In the end it was puffy paint and a white paint pen to the rescue. We (or more accurately Mike) whited out the letters we couldn't write over and then simply wrote the correct letters over the wrong ones. They came out pretty cute. We did one in orange and one in purple. I don't have a picture of them finished and not being worn which was a mistake because when we put the shirts on the girls they wouldn't go over their heads with the ribbon intact. I had forgotten to stretch the collar before I glued the ribbon. I had to tear it off to get the shirts on.

All's well that ends in cute happy babies, I suppose.