Feeling Like a Lousy Parent?

Tonight I have a book recommendation for anyone who is feeling like a lousy parent: The Glass Castle. If you've spent any part of your day feeling guilty about any number of parental shortcomings (i.e. "Oh no, I didn't spend 20 minutes reading with my child", or "Darn it, I don't think my toddler ate his 5 servings of fruits and vegetables today") then you should read this book.

Although the author, Jeannette Walls, ends up finding peace and affection for her parents, her memoir left me feeling shocked that children with such a neglectful and dysfunctional upbringing could survive to become fuctioning members of society.

If you like books like A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and Angela's Ashes, or if you have any level of parental guilt, I think you'll like this book.

My Favorite Assassin

Last night Dan and I hired our babysitters (twin sisters) for a rare night out. I've been dying to see the new Bourne movie. We ate dinner at Rumbi (I love that salad with the mangoes and gorgonzola cheese) and hurried over to the show. It was great! I have to say that it was not a good movie to exit for a potty break, though. I'm already famous for having to use the bathroom half way through a movie, but add to that the fact that I'm 6 months pregnant and there's no chance I was going to make it all the way through. I kept waiting for a break in the action and suspense to make my exit but it never came. I ended up *running* out of the theater during a car chase. I didn't seem to miss much of the story line. Thank goodness for car chases!

This is not my usual movie genre (Yahoo: "Action/Adventure, Thriller"). I keep contemplating why it is that I love the Jason Bourne movies. These are my conclusions:

(1) An assassin with a conscience
(2) Who can say no to Matt Damon?
(3) Shot on location all over Europe and it feels like the real thing: the crowded train stations, the sidewalk cafes, the hotel interiors... I guess it's an escape and makes me reminisce of another time.
(4) They resemble my all-time favorite movie (one of them, anyway) "La Femme Nikita". Not the Americanized one, not the made for TV one... the real one with Anne Parillaud that my French sister, Sophie, and I snuck out to see while I was visiting her in France.

The Miracle of Concrete

What excitement! Who knew that concrete guys were such celebreties? Who knew that chosing a career in the concrete arts would make you such a diva? The driver of our cement truck was so honored with the attention that he let the kids have a photo op on his truck and he let the most awe-stricken child of them all (Gavin ofcourse, just look at the shirt he chose to wear) HONK HIS HORN! We won't forget this day for a long, long, time.

My dilemna now is whether to get Tristan and Jolie from their respective schools at noon so they can put their handprints in the partially-set concrete. It really comes down to what type of mom I am today... am I the mom who needs to get 57 things done between now and 3:45 and thus doesn't want to go to the hassle? Or am I the mom who values the experience and the memories and all that? We'll see...

Destruction on a Larger Scale

This morning Gavin and I were surprised by an unexpected visitor who was ringing our doorbell impatiently at 9:00 a.m. It was "Howard", our contractor's burly, tank-top-wearing demo guy. After I changed into something more presentable and answered the door, he announced that he was here to tear out our driveway and he needed me to move our car. Gavin and I delayed our morning walk for a while so that we could observe destruction on a very large scale. What could be more exciting to a 3 year old boy than not one, not two, not three, but FOUR pieces of construction equipment in his very own yard (for the record: a huge bulldozer, a tractor, dump truck and another piece of equipment I can't accuratly identify but we call it a "grader".) We watched Howard for a while and then went on our walk. The whole time we were gone Gavin kept asking if we could go home. Sitting in a stroller and listening to your mother pant breathlessly apparently isn't as exciting as watching a big guy operate a bulldozer.

For the record, our contractor poured our retaining wall yesterday and they're getting ready to pour the basketball court and side-drive. It looks like we'll be parking on the street for a while since the driveway is mostly demo'd. I don't know when they'll get started on tearing out our front steps and grading for the walkway (which is currently the location of our dead lawn.) I'm learning that it doesn't matter how much you hate looking at your dead lawn though, these things happen as your contractor's schedule allows (and when your contractor only works 4 hours a day, it may be a while!)

Signs that the world knows you're pregnant

I think I can say that I'm officially "showing". These are the signs that have led me to believe this...

(1) At church today, a woman referred to me as "you cute thing".
(2) Another couple of people asked me how I was feeling (isn't it ironic that during my 16 weeks of vomitting and feeling like DEATH, nobody asked me that question...)
(3) This week the manager at Albertson's greeted me warmly, thanked me for shopping at his store, and asked if he could help me out with my basket of groceries.
(4) Lots of up-and-down glances from people who know me well enough but not "well enough".

I thought about posting a photo of my belly but that will have to wait for a day when I'm feeling a little less fat. I'm not one of those women who start wearing maternity clothes (ickkk!) 10 minutes after a positive pregnancy test and who take pride in their growing belly. Actually, it's a hard thing to look in the mirror and see myself blowing up like a balloon.

The First Day

Well, it's been an exciting day. Everyone had a great first day of school. The only complaints I heard this afternoon were:

Jolie wasn't allowed to sit by her friends at lunch (who are in other grades or 1st grade classes); everyone else bought their lunch rather than bringing a lunch from home (obviously Jolie is new to the school lunch experience: she actually thinks she was deprived of something); Tristan's teacher kept mispronouncing his name; and Tristan's new school has assigned seating at lunch.

Given that 90% of their complaints were about lunch, I'd say it was a good day.

I was amazed at how easily the day went for Tristan. He had no reservations whatsoever. He went right into his classroom, he said he played basketball at both recesses and he even has a field trip tomorrow! Unbelievable!

Jolie is wearing her "nervous look" in the photo that I took outside her classroom. I think she may be the one who has a harder transition. She seemed pretty tired and emotional this afternoon, even though she only had a half day of school. I was also surprised that when the bus pulled up after school, she didn't get off. Gavin, Tristan and I beat her home so we walked to the corner to greet her. We waited and waited for her to get off... no Jolie. I climbed onto the bus and the bus driver even called her name over the intercom. Jolie finally appeared. When she got off the bus she had her lunch bag but not her backpack. Turns out she left it on the bus. Sooo... let's just say that I'm glad we walked to the corner to greet her. I do have to say that she did better than the little 2nd grader who got off the bus (at the same stop he got off at all last year) and didn't know his way home. His older brother moved onto junior high this year.

Learning Bangladesh-ese

This week we attended a picnic for Tristan's new school program. He's going into the "gifted and talented" program (I really hate that phrase) which is located at a different school. Other than the fact that it was hot and we ended up sitting on a blanket on the grass (which is becoming less and less comfortable these days), the picnic went well. We met the principal who seems great; we met Tristan's teacher who seems great. A lot of questions were answered and Tristan got a tour of his classroom and the school. I'm hopeful that it will be a great year.

There's another side to this whole thing, though, that's harder to quantify. While we were walking through the hallways of the school, it felt so strange to think that Tristan would be spending his days there. It felt like we were walking through the streets of a foreign country: unusual sights, unusual sounds, even an unusual smell about the place. Tristan is going to a place where he doesn't know anyone. He doesn't know where the bathroom is or anything about the lunchroom protocol. He's spent the last three years becoming acclimated to a place where he feels comfortable, where he recognizes the cuisine and understands the language. Now I'm turning him loose in Bangladesh! What have I done?

Strangely, I'm the only one who's feeling this anxiety right now. I just hope that eight-year-olds learn to speak Bangladesh-ese easier than their mothers.

One Week and Counting!

School starts a week from today. Not that I'm counting (cough) or wishing this wondeful summer away (cough) or anything like that...

We received a recorded message this morning from Jolie's principal, informing us that the class lists were FINALLY posted for all to see. They added a 1st grade teacher at the last minute so there are only 22 kids in her class (a large improvement from last year's 28). The good news is that Jolie has the new teacher and she knows a few of the kids in her class. A brand new teacher is always a crap shoot, but there's a particular 1st grade teacher with whom we have some experience and we were really hoping we wouldn't have to relive that nightmare. Whew! My prayers were answered on that one. Jolie was a little disappointed that some of her friends aren't in her new class but she's easy going and she makes friends easily so I'm confident that things will go well.

I'm going to miss Jolie when she starts 1st grade. Last year was perfect for all of us. She was home in the morning and then got to spend a couple hours of the afternoon at school. Her teacher was warm and nurturing and it was just what she needed. This year is going to be different. She'll be entering the cold harsh world of 1st grade: all day, expected to abide by the rules and regulations, tie her own shoes, do the lunch thing, play on the playground with the bigger (meaner) kids... it can be an adjustment. It will also be an adjustment for Gavin and I, we'll miss her.

The Cabin

We spent last weekend in Island Park, ID at the cabin. We try to make it up every summer but we were unable to go last year. I've been hearing about it all year (!) so we were sure to schedule our trip early this year.

Talk about a child's playground! The river, the dock, hunting for snakes, mountain biking, roasting marshmallows and eating smores, sleeping in a loft... what could be more exciting?

I called mom the morning after we got home and asked if she was glad to wake up to peace and quiet. Aunt Lisa, I'm sure, was too.

Balance? Maybe.. Please??

The other exciting part of Monday was the all-important news I needed from the ultrasound tech at my monthly OB appointment. Ofcourse we were interested to know about the development of the baby and my health and all of that, but we've also been excited to know whether we're expecting a baby boy or girl. There's been a lot of talk around here about whether we're going to have a brother or sister, which each of us would prefer to have, what we'll name our baby, etc. We've (more or less) been divided along party lines, that is, the girls in the family have been hoping for a baby girl and the boys for a baby boy.

Well the girls at last won one! We found out that our baby is "99% sure" to be a GIRL! To Jolie and I that means that we can look forward to a little more balance around here... maybe. We'll see. You never really know what you're going to get, do you?

Happy Birf-day!

Our little monkey turned three on Monday! In a word, the day was very exciting. It all started with Tristan and Jolie waking Gavin up at 6-something to tell him it was his birthday (thanks, guys!) True to the way things ususally go around here, it was all craziness and excitement from that point forward. Tristan and Jolie went to their last book club session of the summer, where there was a bouncy house and clown for the last hour, and Gavin and I ran a few errands to buy school supplies. We picked up the kids and came home for a quick bite to eat. Our only problem was that there was WAY too much excitement in the air for anyone to sit down and eat. After a few bribes and threats, I was able to get them to eat a little bit.

We headed to Salt Lake for my ultrasound appointment (but that's a whole other post). We spend a few very HYPER hours at University Hospital enclosed in a couple of small rooms with very expensive equipment, and then we headed home in the traffic. Dan had met us at the hospital directly from work so it was just the kids and I fighting traffic on our own. I had a couple VERY important phone calls to make, and so the kids were left to their own devices. Unbeknownst to me, some toy swords had made it into my car so a huge sword fight ensued on the way home. The kids were, ofcourse, buckled in, but where there's a will... there's a way.

Once we were home we had about 20 minutes to pick up the house, get dinner going, run to the corn lady to buy our favorite farm-fresh corn, and get ready for the party. It was a crazy day but Gavin enjoyed every minute of it. He enjoyed telling people "I'm having a birf-day!" and then he'd hide behind me or cover his face when asked how old he was or what his special plans for the day were. My mom made Gavin a special "Thomas" cake and he was BEAMING while we sang to him.

Couch Flying

Just a few images of my active little 2-year old while he's still two. I was just downstairs having a (rare) quiet moment, reading the Sunday edition of the Wall Street Journal in the living room. Gavin decided to start "flying" between one couch and the other. Most unseasoned parents I'm sure would discourage this but I've learned that it's futile with little boys. Threre's something about the liberty of the underpants and the tempting two-foot distance between the arm of one sofa and the soft, welcoming cushion of the other that makes it irrestistable. Plus, I'll admit it... It's Sunday evening, I've been fighting the fight all day long, and I'm exhausted! Let him have his thrill. At least I'm within close range if it all goes bad.

Oh, and I couldn't resist photographing Gavin's toenails. He begged me to paint them earlier when I was doing mine and Jolie's. When Dan balked I informed him that unless my news from the ultrasound tech tomorrow is that we're having a girl, I'll be painting the toenails of the next boy, too. He didn't say anything.

So tomorrow is a big day for us! Gavin turns three and we'll know some exciting news about our new addition... can't wait!

My Masterpiece

Success! Thank you to Nancy and Julia Child, my pastry chef mentors.

Sometimes Demolition is a Beautiful Thing

In case anyone has been wondering what Dan's been up to in his spare time (there's so much of it, you know!)... this is it.

We hired a landscape architect to draw a plan for us in the spring and we're now in the second phase of our demolition. Doesn't it look great? Dan made a lot of progress on the demolition while his Dad was here. They pulled out the fence and basketball standard, the concrete surrounding it, and a LOT of bushes. Yesterday we continued the destruction. The kids helped pull out the curbing with a sledge hammer and pry bar.

The good 'ol pickup truck has been an essential tool in this process. It's amazing what a truck and a big strong chain can do. Not to mention a lot of backbreaking manual labor. It's amazing to look at the root ball on some of these shrubs. We're more sure than ever that our former homeowners paid someone a lot of money to design and install their yard in 1985 and then thought that was all that had to be done for 20 years.

We've apologized to all of our neighbors for the noise and ugliness and promised that things will soon be looking a lot better. To most I'm sure it looks horrible but to me me it looks great because it means that we're finally on the road to beautifying our yard and the exterior of our house. Hooray!

Captain Underpants

Gavin has decided that he's ready to be big. It's been rather sudden and quite a surprise because we tried the potty training thing last winter without success. We jumped up and down and clapped our hands every time he produced. We had a great sticker chart with treats and rewards. We hurried off to Target for him to chose a Thomas engine whenever he filled a row on the sticker chart. Once we even ventured out in a pretty significant snow storm because as they say, consistency is key! We were determined. The Potty Watch played it's tune and flashed its lights when it was time to go.

It didn't last.

One morning about three weeks ago, after contentedly peeing and pooping in diapers night and day, he went into his room and put on some underpants (which had been in his drawer for 6 months). I asked him if he was going to be big and go on the potty. He said "Yah.". Amazingly, he stayed dry the whole day. And the next. He's had just two accidents in three weeks and he's often dry in the morning after sleeping all night. Unbelievable!

It seems that he's been capable all along but simply needed to make the choice that he was big.

A Special Treat

I spent the weekend in San Diego with Lisa. It was so much fun and such a special treat. Several weeks ago she mentioned that she was going to visit Dad and Nancy. Since I knew my in-laws were going to be here and would be able to help with the kids, I decided to invite myself along. I'm so glad I did. We did all of our favorite things: dinner at the "grassy knoll" (see photos), Del Mar racetrack and our favorite Mexican restaurant afterward, the open air market and other fun shops in La Jolla, we saw "Hairspray" (we all gave it 4 stars), dinner with Celeste and Steve, a individualized pilates session with Nancy, the beach....

No trip to San Diego would be the same without amazing food. Dad worked his magic on the BBQ, including pizza on the grill (it was unbelievable.) We had great Chinese takeout at our favorite spot on the water, I had the BEST chile relleno and chile verde in Del Mar, warm popovers in the morning, and per my request, Nancy gave Lisa and I a lesson in the art of a successful pie. I was so inspired by her apple pie and homemade vanilla ice cream that I wrote down her recipes and came home inspired to make them. I've been home less than 24 hours and I'm almost ready: I bought 5 lbs of apples today but I still need to get a pastry blender. This is monumental for me: although I'm pretty good baker, I have a very bad history with pies. I gave up on making pastry years ago after my strawberry pie turned out to be strawberry soup. Another time I caught my oven on fire while baking a key lime pie. I'll never forget that one because I had the neighbor kids over at the time. The house was filled with smoke, my smoke alarms were going off and I had flames jumping out of the oven. Baking soda saved us all that day!

I was also able to read my book club assignment while in San Diego (Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf). I'm so glad that I took it with me because it was a bit of a hard read and required a lot of concentration. Virginia Woolf's stream of consciousness writing style (some sentences take up nearly a page) requires an unusual attention span. I'm afraid I wouldn't have gotten as much out of it if I had tried to read it here. I'm looking forward to discussing the book with my friends.

The weekend was great. It was so nice to get away after being home all summer (most of it while feeling horrible), the weather was gorgeous (when is it not in San Diego?), Dan and the kids were having a ball with the in-laws, and I was able to do some things that I haven't done in a long time. It was a very rare and special treat!

Train Ride

Grandpa and Grandma are visiting from Virginia and we spent last weekend with them in Park City. Saturday they treated us all to a fun train and hay ride. Gavin was absolutely beside himself. He's obsessed with trains, particularly the one that lives on the Island of Sodor. At least we can justify the hundreds and hundreds of dollars we donated to the Thomas empire 6 or so years ago.

We sat outside in an open car for most of the train ride, ate a great dinner, and stopped for a hay ride. The kids got to watch a ferrier shoe a horse and even got a chance to sit on the horse (who was named "Rowdy"). We ate cobbler out of a dutch oven and listed to some cowboy poetry.

We all had a lot of fun!

What's up with the Toothfairy?

The toothfairy has been making frequent visits to our house. Jolie yanked her front tooth out on the 4th of July and then her brothers helped the other one come partially out a few days later. They were down on the floor wrestling (what, people roughhouse and wrestle in this house? really???) and one of them head-butted her on their way up. It pried one corner of her remaining front tooth loose so it was hanging a bit slanted. I have to say that I was glad to see that one go a few days later. Dan had to do his dental-floss trick to help her with it. Thank goodness for Daddy. I made them go upstairs and I was still cringing and doing deep-breathing until she came down with the tooth in her hand. That kind of stuff is just NOT for me.

Tristan twisted another loose tooth out on Saturday so we had a lot of surprises for the toothfairy Saturday night. Unfortunately, she didn't come. We're not sure why, but there was a huge wildfire raging in Southern Utah along the I-15 corridor so we think maybe she wasn't able to fly that night. Dan told Jolie he didn't think the toothfairy would come on the 4th because of the fireworks, so all the teeth were saved until Saturday. What a disappointment that she didn't come. Fortunately she made good on her responsibilities Sunday night. This is a photo of the letter that Tristan wrote to her.



"Dear Toothfairy,
I twisted my tooth out on the 4th of July. My dad thought you would get killed in fireworks so I had to do it today. My dad pulled out another tooth today.
Sincerely,
Jolie
P.S. Tristan wrote this note and he has a loose tooth."

(Note to self: Practice spelling with second grader during summer vacation!)

Back in the Life of the Living!

Yes, it's true... Michelle is back in the life of the living!

I'd like to apologize to all of my blog admirers (numerous as they are) who have been disappointed my my absence over the past 2 1/2 months. I'm sure they've all gone elsewhere for their entertainment by now.

The good news is that I'm back, literally, to the life of the living! I can't tell you how hard May and June were for me. It was really, really bad. For those who have been through this horrible sickness, you know that it's more than just throwing up here and there. Let's just say that my life has been completely dysfunctional and it's a miracle that we made it through. The blog is only a small example of what I've neglected the past eleven weeks because I've been focused on one thing and one thing only: surviving through the day.

I would have loved to post some cute photos of the 4th of July, kids holding sparklers and all that, but I'm afraid the 4th holds another significance for me this year: it was the last time I threw up. Strangely, I'd like that to remain my memory of the 4th... Dan pulling over on our way to an Independence Day breakfast so that I could vomit in a vacant lot on the side of the road. It's only a good memory because it was the last and final time. I'm determined for it to be!

Uggghhh!

Wow, it's been 21 days since I posted anything to the blog. For those of you are wondering whether I've dropped off the face of the Earth, the answer is yes. I'm suffering from a pretty bad case of "hyperemesis gravidarum". That's what my doctor calls it, anyway. For the less technically-minded, that means that I'm puking my guts out night and day and I spend most of my time lying on a bed or couch or recliner somewhere, staring at the wall and wishing I were dead.

Sorry to sound so bleak, only those who've been through it will understand...