Let the Wild Rumpus Start

Week 106

Sometimes I am so busy, I don't even know where to begin.  I feel pulled in eight thousand directions: three papers due, test on friday, read books with Liam, seriously I have to read a 300 page novel in one week, play train set with Liam, outline written, dishes done, make corn bread with Liam, laundry not done, bills to pay, play blocks with Liam, yardwork needs to be done, go on long walk and find leaves with Liam, trash out, buy more stamps, cuddle Liam, go grocery shopping, make menu, have big bubbly bathtime with Liam, edit photos, order pictures, catch up on emails, shit I haven't talked to any of my friends in two weeks, call friends, work on letters with Liam, try to go out or watch one movie a week so I can get a break, that movie ends up being Cars with Liam, oh my gosh my entire website crashed, spend four hours on the phone with host company, laugh and wear hats with Liam, and everything is due RIGHT NOW.  Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.  I get the feeling that a family isn't supposed to have one person attend grad school full time and teach three sections of a film class and have the other person going to school full time with a busy photography business AND have a kid at the same time.  It's almost masochistic, when you think about it.  You know what we should do?  Have twins and get a puppy. 

Beautiful plan. 

But my life has changed in these crazy days, as well as my days with Liam.  When we have a free afternoon, and I mean completely free where we don't have to run to Target or the grocery store, I don't want to go anywhere lately.  I love and miss my friends and playgroups, but all I want at that moment and all I think Liam needs is to connect and enjoy the slowness of the moment.  Granted, it's super fun to run the Children's Museum, but right now, at the end of the semester when things are heating up and I can't even breathe, eat, or sleep out of the craziness, all I want to do with Liam is curl up with a cup of tea and read together. 

It's hard being a parent, a good parent, while focusing on these other responsibilities.  Honestly, I feel guilty most of the time.  I feel like I have the rest of my life, why can't I go to school later?  This is his time to be two and I should take advantage of it.  He should know all of his letters and numbers, we should have exhausted all of our Madison kid resources by now... but he doesn't and we don't.  All I've wanted to do is be a mother, soak in every minute... you may joke, but the idea of a 1950's housewife sounded pretty good.  And not in a subordinate, 'I'm going to look pretty with my pearls and gloss over all the details of the hard day, because when you come home from work you will want a happy wife" kind of thing... but a I stay home and have a lot of babies kind of thing. 

But honestly, I had unrealistic expectations of both... when I was a stay at home Mom, I fantasized how I would go to school, work at a coffee shop - so fancy with my little americano and muffin, read my book out on the porch in the autumn sunlight, write my papers without any difficulty, respond and collaborate with students, and become the student that I never was.  Also, relatively stress free.  Because, in my dream world, I would have all the time to do it.  Now, I fantasize how I would be THE BEST stay at home Mom.  Oh goodness would I be good!  We would go out everyday - the Children's Museum, the Zoo, Playgrounds, Playgroups, or attend one of the many kid activities that are in town.  We would sit on the ground for HOURS and do puzzles, make cookies or bread together every day, and we would both be happy all the time. 

I love being a mother, love it more than anything I have ever done.  But when I was doing that, I needed more.  It sounds terrible to say - I need more than you, Liam.  But I do.  I need to be Liam's Mother AND Mallory.  I need to have something more than that to be a stronger and better Mother.  I need something more to connect with myself, to make myself stronger, to keep myself busy and focused on a goal, so that I can connect, be stronger, and be focused with Liam. 

What I do know is that parenting is hard.  The most amazing thing I have ever done, but the hardest thing I have ever done.  And now I feel very conflicted. 

This isn't new... many parents before me have felt this and many will after me.  The balance between keeping yourself as an individual and being a parent is hard.  Respecting yourself and respecting your child and  finding the time to do anything but respond to all of the needs that each of you has is hard. 

I'm not sure if this post is meant for sharing, for me, or for Liam years down the line to explain... I'm not sure.  And I am not complaining... this is the path I chose and am choosing to follow every day.  Just wanted to extend a little love out there to all the parents.  Parenthood is hard.  And I hope I'm doing a good job.  I hope you're doing a good job.  It's impossible to tell with anyone. 

Some of you may be thinking, you have a free hour... go and do this work! But, I have to do this for me.  I have to stop.  Stop what I am doing. Stop the housework and the school work and reflect.  I have to write.  I miss the posts when Liam was first born and all I could write about what his smell and how his beautiful face looks and my amazing, overpowering love for him.  But this is my life now. And it's okay. So, forgive me.  My pictures and recollections of Liam are missing this week.  I was with my boy. I was experiencing.  I was soaking it all in. 

I am a mother.  I am Mallory.  And I am grateful for all of it. 

 

I've Got it Goin On!

School is on!  Last night bed at 3am.  Tonight bed at 2:30. 

It's like having a newborn... Except I'm not covered in milk and in my pajamas for six days straight.  Hey, I've got that working for me!

Well, I'm not entirely covered in milk...

My Rules to Live By

I recently read a terrific blog post by a favorite Mom blogger.  It was her rules to live by. 

Here are mine, not necessarily in order. 

1. Make the house a place where you can always be you:  This is most important - The house is a safe zone. This is one that I learned from my parents.  There is so much out there to make you feel lousy.  Kids tease kids.  You wear the wrong shirt, you say the wrong thing, you are grumpy or tired.  The house should always be a place where you can tell silly jokes, dance wild, laugh, be mad or grumpy, sing a crazy song about your love for sharks, wear your pajamas all day long, eat crackers until you simply can't do it anymore.  But no matter what, you can be yourself.  You can grow and be happy and confident around your family.

2.  Family dinner every night:  It can be simple.  You don't have to cook.  Hell, you don't even have to order take out.  You can have deli meat and crackers and trail mix for dinner.  But sit down with each other until everyone is done.  Talk. Share. Connect. 

3.  Tv for 30 minutes MAX:  Unless you are watching a movie, that should be it.  The average child watches tv for six hours a day now.  Tv off. 

4.  Avoid commericialized toys and products as much as possible:  Period.  I don't want that in my house.  There is so much commercialization out there - all Nickelodean, Disney, Noggin, and even PBS market to kids.  Marketing, marketing, marketing.  Plastic makes for cheap toys.  Batteries make kids use less imagination. We don't need to buy plastic that will fill some landfill someday.  I'm not saying I will only buy the fancy wooden toys for my kid, but do we need Spiderman bedsheets, toys, books, clothes, coloring books, and fruit snacks?  Hell no.  We can fashion a Spiderman out of play dough and Liam is as good as gold. 

5. Don't lie:  This is more for when Liam is older, but still.  I don't care if it hurts or is wrong, I want to hear about it.  Really.  I mean it.  But don't you dare look me in the eye and lie to me.  I will swallow whatever it is that is going on in your world and we can communicate. 

6.  No cable:  Period.  It just takes longer to figure out that there is nothing on.  Time suck. 

7.  Go outside at least once a day every single day:  Simple.  Go outside.  Explore the World.  Connect.  Play.

8. Every adult needs times for themself at least once a day:  This can be as simple as cooking a meal for the family by yourself or setting aside a half an hour everyday to read in the family room.  It is so good for kids to learn to be by themselves and play by themselves. Too often we feel like we have to teach with our children or play with our children all day for them to feel our love.  But we are not respecting ourselves as parents or as individuals (because we are individuals as well as parents) if we do that. We are not allowing our kids to be bored and they need to be bored so they create new games or figure it out on their own. Grab a (big) glass if wine and cut the veggies.  Or grab a cup of tea and read a book for a little while.  Slow down.  You'll all appreciate the time. 

9.  Mind Your Own Business: Simply put. If it doesn't concern you, it doesn't matter.  This is something that I learned from my Dad: Act like a safebox to secrets.  If someone shares information, a hard time, or a secret with you, it is not yours to share.  It is not your business to share.  Think of their secret like it is a book they are showing you: they indulge, share with you, but when they leave, they leave with their book.  They leave with their secret.  There are certainly exceptions to this rule - a friend of mine recently applied to grad school.  It was almost a sure bet that she would get in.  She had told most of our mutual friends about it.  When she got in, I felt safe sharing that information with our mutual friends because it was so well known.  But a divorce?  Pregnancy?  Couples problems?  A friend venting about another friend?  Even a hard day with some difficult details.  It is not mine to share. 

10. Don't Judge: Simply put.  This ties into the mind your own business rule. 

Concerning parenting:  Before I had kids, I judged ALLLLLLLLLLLLL the parents around me.  It's easy to look at that kid in Target that is screaming and see that Mom that is completely ignoring him or her and judge.  But look closer, that Mom is probably exhausted.  Parents and people are always judging each other.  Why are they wearing that?  That kid looks filthy!  It's late - put your kid to bed!  Your kid is SO LOUD!  Your kid has TERRIBLE MANNERS!  The thing is, you don't know.  You have no idea what is going on. That child might be having a bad day, that child may be sick, that parent may be sick, that parent may have four other kids at home who have been SCREAMING ALL DAY!  Or worse, that family could be going through some hard times of their own and need your sympathy and not your dirty looks.  We need to stop judging as parents, because whether you are a stay at home parent with six kids at home all running around or a working parent with a nanny all day, it is frickin hard.  We need to stop judging and reconize that we are all in the same boat.  And that boat can be beautiful, hard, loving, angry, sweet and cuddly, and screaming and crying.  It's easy to say "If that kid was mine, I would do this..." or "MY kid NEVER did that!"  or "MY kid ALWAYS did this!"  Because your kid probably does do that or did do that, so back off. 

Concerning life:  Simply put, if it's not nice, don't say it at all.  If you don't know the person, don't do it.  Who cares what that person is wearing, how much weight they gained that year, who they married or what house they bought?  Who cares what religion they follow, who they hang out with, who comes to their house, or what car they drive?  If you DO know them, don't do it.  Who cares? 

Gossip and judgement are ugly.  It makes you look ugly.  It makes the people around you look ugly.  It makes your friends feel ugly.  Because if you are talking like that about people you don't know, what are you saying about the people you do know? 

 

I am not perfect at all.  I am not a perfect person or mother.  I mess up - watch more tv, don't go outside, judge, and I am sure as hell that I will end up messing Liam and future children up in some way because I am not perfect, but I try.  And I don't care if you have cable, buy commercialized toys, or never have family dinner together.  Seriously.  I love it that you might disagree with me.  I love it if you agree with me.  That's great because these differences make the world and the people in it stronger.  The most important of all of these rules is to love your child, love your family, and love yourself.  Follow your own family and what you think it right.  Trust yourself and the choices you make.  If you do these things, everything will be alright in the end. 

Do you have rules for yourself?  What are they? 

 

 

Halloween Goodies

Halloween! 

Good God do we love trucks!  Liam spied the street cleaning trucks outside and we followed them for five or six blocks before we couldn't catch up with them anymore.  We found these trucks, FOUR OF THEM!!!!, on our walk home.  We are some lucky people - FOUR trucks in our own neighborhood. 

 

Making pumpkin bread.  Liam ate so much of the batter that the loaves were teeny tiny when they were done.  He said he was "helping" so it was okay.  Anybody that cute can "help" like that whenever they want. 

It was cool to see him get into cooking for the first time.  He was so proud and said "Iam do it" and then he'd stir the flour and sugar.  It was so great, granted the kitchen looked like a flour bomb had hit it, but it was great. 

We really pumped up Halloween.  We watched Charlie Brown's Great Pumpkin every night for the whole week, read Halloween movies, carved pumpkins, roasted the seeds, made bread, and went to a few Halloween themed parties around town.  Liam was so excited that for the last few days before it, he wanted to wear his costume everywhere.  Here is the cow at the park. 

We made a lot of crafts as well.  I am a crafter, that's how I think.  I know... I'm a dork.  But please try to consider me a hipper version of Martha, okay?  I would totally make something with records. Or vintage something.  That would be amazing.

Anyway, here is one of them.  I cut out the body and eight legs.  Liam pasted them wherever he wanted.   Apparently it's a spider that Mommy took care of, if you know what I mean. 

Trick or treating!  Liam was SO PUMPED for it! He was so timid for the first house.  We went to our neighbor Linda's house first. He said trick or treat twice and when he got his candy, he immediately took it out of his bag, handed it to me, and asked "Mommy, open please." By the fourth house, Liam got what was going on and shoved his hand into the bowl to help himself. 

After a few more neighbors' houses, we went to our friends houses and joined them.  Our friends all have two and four year olds.  They are ALL boys, so it's a funny energy.  By energy, I mean WILD ALL THE TIME.  We had a Tigger, a Sun and Moon, a Cow, and a Cowboy and Firefighter. 

It was really fun night, even when Liam was really tired at the end and there were scarier people out.  There was one kid that was a murdered child.  Seriously?  WHAT?  This kid had a knife in his head and blood all over his face and shirt.  I mean, really, I know that more mature costumes are coming.  You know, superheros, ghosts, zombies, whatever... but a murdered child?!?!?  Sheesh. 

But Liam was okay with it.  Was fine until he saw the guy handing out candy that was sitting in a chair with a bowl of candy in one hand and his head in the other.  Liam took a few steps on the porch, then slowly backed down off the porch and down the stairs, all while staring at this man.  I picked him up and he was whispering, "Scared man."

So cute.

It took an extra hour to get Liam down for bed because he was JUMPING everywhere. 

Good week.  Sweet boy. Can't wait for next year. 

Survival

A little while ago I had to write a narrative about an experience that changed my life.  I couldn't think of anything greater than the years with my Mom. My life with my Mom.  The speech that I wrote is below.

 

All of this I know and I don’t know.  All of this has been warped and changed with memory and time.  All of this I remember through slanted eyes, hurt eyes that have changed.  All I know now is that I miss her.  All I know now is that she is gone.

I was fourteen years old when my world changed in ways I could not yet imagine: my mother had breast cancer.  She was thirty seven years old.  My mother.  Her struggle to live was more amazing than her struggle to fight the cancer that ate away at her.  She fought for eight years, with chemo failing and doctors shaking their heads at her.  She fought for so long, fighting for us.  Fighting to live was different that her fight against cancer.  And even though she eventually lost her fight against cancer, eight years after learning about it, she had lived.  She had made a home, played with and raised her children proudly; she was not a pitiful woman.  She was my mother.  My mother: A woman who would not let the cancer stop her from building a beautiful one acre garden in our backyard.  It would not stop her from decorating our home for birthdays, going above and beyond, even to the point of embarrassment.  It did not stop her from smiling.  Living.  My mother fought cancer.  Her illness and death will always shape me, will continue to shape me, and I will never be the same because of it. 

The cancer was stage two breast cancer.  She had chemotherapy, a mastectomy, and eventually reconstructive surgery.  I learned these terms alongside Advanced Algebra and AP English.  I learned them because it was my life.  I wanted to learn everything I could about the disease and where it would take us.  When her hair started falling out, she bought a wig, but didn’t want to wear it.  It seemed less depressing to have a bandana and it worked well for her. It fit the spirit that she carried with her her whole life.  The wig acted as cancer décor in the house. Soon more décor came, prescription bottles, souvenirs from the hospital like the chapstick they gave you.  I remember that chapstick, always too dry and it stuck to your lips in clumps.   We were all strong then, laughing and having bonfires when she was feeling fine.  She continued to garden and to build a home for us.  My Dad worked more often then and my brother, then nine years old, and I were taking care of her.  My brother, my sweet brother, who will only remember my Mom with the cancer.  It seemed okay though, we were doing our part.  I swallowed this responsibility, wore it like a badge.  I did not rebel.  I didn't scream that I hated her or fought with her like most teenage girls my age were doing.  We laughed.  We were best friends.  We would watch Law and Order in bed together and laugh at the silly plotlines.  We created nicknames for each other.  Most importantly, we lived. 

We earned ourselves a reward after that difficult year and a half.  The chemo ended and after many tests, it was announced that her cancer was gone.  She was cancer free.  It was over.  My Mom was free. We were free.  Her hair grew back, thicker and curly.  The wrinkles in her eyes were deeper, she had aged from this time, but she was more beautiful. 

What we didn’t know, couldn’t know during that time, was that the cancer was growing in her body.  It had metastasized.  While we celebrated, it grew to consume 90% of her liver.  When they discovered it a year and a half later it was too late.  They gave my mother a year and a half to live.  I was then eighteen years old.  I was older.  My family was older too.  We all knew what would happen and we were resigned.  My mother, especially, was resigned to this new death sentence. 

She changed.  Slowly.  Slowly.  She changed. 

She was able to take chemo at home, in a pill form, and she didn’t lose her hair.  And the good news is she continued to fight.  She gave herself and she gave us three more years.  But it was a death sentence.  Both the emotional memory I have of her and the physical person began to die.  She spent more and more days in bed, started taking antidepressants because she was so depressed, and she yelled more often.  Her pain never went away.  All day every day the cancer hurt her as it grew.  It metastasized to her pelvic, spleen, and brain.  As the years went on, I graduated from high school, started college, but was always her caregiver.  I moved away and moved back, living with her, living with cancer, living with the heavy cancer umbrella. 

For a few weeks in August of 2007, my Dad went out of town and I was left at home to care for her alone.  Someone had to be there for her now.  She was hardly eating then and slept almost all day.

The pictures of that time show a woman we could not recognize at the time.  Her face was drained of color, her hair thin, her smile weak.  She was dying, but we did not allow ourselves to see it.  If you look close, look into her eyes, she knew.  She knew. 

In the few days that my Dad was out of town, the cancer that had then spread to her bones pushed calcium into her bloodstream, making her confused.  She took days and days of pills at once.  It made her even more confused. 

When my Dad returned from his trip, we took her to the hospital.  The doctors told us that the chemo she was taking had failed and that she could take a break.  We didn’t know that they meant forever. 

We didn’t know.  We couldn’t know then.  Mom had more tests and they discovered that the cancer had grown so much that there wasn’t anything more we could do.  We had a few months to say goodbye.  She was sent home. 

Goodbye?  How could we? 

We had hospice come in and they set up a bed in the living room.  It was the  our Christmas tree and stockings.  I still remember my Mom’s face when she saw the bed for the first time.  She knew what it meant. 

But she was still herself.  She continued to fight to live, even if she couldn’t fight the cancer anymore.  The night that she returned from the hospital she had a glass of wine with my Dad, her close friends, and me on the deck.  She was laughing and joking with the hospice nurse.  She fought. 

Four days after that she slipped into a coma.  She just couldn’t wake up with what was happening to her and the pain medications.  Ten days after that, on August 18, 2007, she passed away.  It was peaceful, and my Dad, brother, and I were all able to be there.  She had a smile on her face as we held her hands. 

The fight to live is strong.  The fight can last for years, it can last the rest of your life.  My mother fought for eight years.  Now I fight for her.  I will fight for the rest of my life. 

I will always need a mother.  I will always need friends to get through this.  I will always need a therapist to get through the many issues that will come up over the years – for instance, when I got married and she wasn’t there or when I had my son that I knew she would never meet.  No matter how long she has been gone, no matter how much I have mourned for her, I will always need journals, friends, and therapists to get through this.  She will always be with me.  I can see that now.  She will always be here. 

It has been five years since her death.  First I mourned, now I fight for her.  Now I fight for me.  Breast cancer is hereditary.  Two of her sisters had breast cancer and survived, but I may have the gene.  I may get cancer.  When she was sick, I gave my life to her.  In the years after her death, I gave those years to my Dad who mourned.  Now I am standing up and I will fight to live. 

I fight.  This year I participated in the Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk for the Cure.  It was an exhausting 60 mile walk over three days in Chicago.  I raised over $2,700 myself and all of the walkers that weekend raised 4.2 million dollars to help find a cure.  I now run half marathons, exercise, eat organic and healthy foods, and get regular mammograms.  When I get the gene testing in the years to come, I will see if I have the genes.  If I do, I will take whatever other preventative measures I can. 

I live.  I enjoy time with my son, learn to savor the moments with friends and family, and take things slow.  I can safely say that my mother and the years that I spent loving and living with her are greater and more inspirational than the depressing year of her death and funeral.  I can safely say that those years have weighed on every decision I have ever made in my life. 

My mother fought and she will always win.  I will always fight and I will win.  I am strong because I am me and I am strong because I am Molly’s daughter. 

Those Low Down, No Patience Days

Ah, today is that special day. 

The kind of day where you wake up stressed.  Upset.  Wrong side of the bed.  Mad.

Why aren't the dishes done?  The laundry pile is as tall as my son.  I need to clean the fridge.  Do grocery shopping.  Take out the trash.  On top of that, WHAT IS that smell in there?  Shit, I need to clean the trash cabinet too.  Seriously, what IS THAT smell?

I'm tired. Stayed up too late. Procrastinated, then worked.  Then stayed up too late.  Woke up too late.  Still haven't showered. 

And then there's Liam. Who seems to be in the same pissy mood as me. 

Ah, today is that special day. 

Only for him, he's upset.  Wrong side of the bed.  Mad.  Wants something, but can't express it.  Pissy, hungry, tired.  Body can't handle all of this.  Wait, are these my 2 year MOLARS coming in?  Ah no, I remember teething.  That sucked. 

He's tired.  He's growing.  He has needs.  He can't communicate them.  So he throws himself on the ground.  He kicks.  He whines.  He pushes my buttons by doing things that he knows are wrong, like throwing things when he's frustrated. He has this thing that he picked up somewhere, and says, "Go away"  I know he means stop, but it breaks my heart and makes me so mad at the same time.  WHY are you SAYING THAT?  Don't you know you are my whole heart?  Don't you know that all I want to do is play with you all day?  Don't you know that all I want is to read with you in the chair and have everything finish itself.

But I react wrong and get equally mad.  Shout.  Take things away without explaining why. 

All I want is one afternoon, no one full day, to get my life in order.  I want to spend the day with friends, connecting with them and catching up in a deep and meaningful way.  I want to explore art.  Read books that I want to read with a blanket and a massive cup of tea.  I want to listen to music and immerse myself in the lyrics and melodies.  I want to pay all of my bills and finish my jobs.  I want to get perfect grades.  I want to finish my house and paint my room. 

No, all I want is to be a great Mommy.  All I want is one full day to take my son on an all day bike ride and pick pumpkins and read books and enjoy the day. Enjoy my boy.

Bad Mommy.

Bad moods. 

Bad Liam.

All I can hope is that I get work done, maybe wash some dishes and start a load, sip my coffee and enjoy a moment of peace. 

All I can hope for is a better afternoon.  A second chance.  A better Mommy.

 

 

Olbrich Gardens and Family Potluck

I'm super behind.  These are from a few weeks ago, when we walked to Olbrich Gardens together. 

 

In case you were wondering, this is what a tantrum at the gardens look like. 

Recovering

 

Later that day, Liam and I went to our family potluck that we are in.  We all met at a park and had too much fun chasing the ducks (duck-ducks), going down the slide (lide), and PUSH!!!ing on the swing (wing).  

And a little video - sorry, in the beginning I forgot that I can't take vertical video...

Easter Fun with the Littlest Man

 

 

Egg Dye isn't as good as it looks

 

Then we had a big, soapy bath and got all fresh and clean. 

John's filmie-nerdy video of egg dyeing:

And my, much more traditional video of egg dyeing:

Liam's first Easter basket. 

Yes, that's a little monkey.  Inside the eggs were (get this ->) organic, vegan gummy bears.  They were actually awesome!  Liam ate them all for breakfast, practically in one handful.  And there it it, Liam's first milk chocolate.  He didn't like it.  Not one teeny tiny bit.

Score:   Organic - 1, Conventional - 0

Hope you all had a fantastic Easter - much love!

17 Months of Joy

I've been so bad again.  What, has it been three, four weeks?  Ah well. 

It has been an interesting time.  First, let's talk the fun stuff -

Play doh! 

Yes, it sticks to your fingers

 

AAANNND your chin, but only if you suck on it first. 

It has been beautiful lately and we found a park that we absolutely love.  If you think it's hard going to the park with one toddler, try three.  It's mental suicide.  Anxiety ridden toddler craziness. 

But here, at this park, there are duck ducks that swim in wawa.  There are slides, double swings (check that out!),

 

and a big field for kicking balls or running around.  Plus, it's about a mile away, so Mommy works off the three cupcakes she had for breakfast. 

This month we're really taken a turn for the super dangerous.  I struggle with the battles that I choose.  For instance, do I let him jump on the cushions on the floor?  Yes.  Do I let him jump on the chair and couch?  I'm not sure.  Do I let him hurl head first off the chair?  Preferably no.  Does it matter what I think?  Not at all, because right after I shot this angelic picture of my boy, he did just that. 

Here we are at one of the aforementioned parks, where I have heart attacks. 

Liam absolutely SHRIEKS with joy when he is excited by something now.  Here it is in action.  I love the arms back and belly out to exclaim even louder. 

Dangerous item at the park.  I love guiding Liam on this one when it's just the two of us at the park.  He is very good at figuring out how to move his arms and legs at the same time.  I love it when he climbs up it, because when he is on the other side, looking down at it and thinking about hurling himself head first off of it, he has a recollection of it.  You go up, not down.  So far, so good.  No hurling yet.  (FINGERS CROSSED!)

Chalk is super crazy fun.  So is eating it like it's a french fry. 

Liam is still learning how to run.  It's so cute watching him figure it out.  He gets this fast, crazy awkward walk where his legs swing around. 

We've been walking to a toddler gym on Tuesdays.  It is a big gym with tubes, tricycles, mats, balls, and lots of kids running around.  It's practically free and one of the many reasons why Madison is such a great place for kids.  Here we are walking to the gym, and Liam and his little friend Sadie held hands the whole half an hour. 

They have developed such a special relationship.  They often play hide and go seek and chase all day.  When we read stories on the couch together, they lay on each other and giggle.  When I see their friendship, I feel so happy that I made this decision to have this daycare in our home.  Yes, it's a "job". But it's a job where I can stay home with my boy and see all of his moments.  It's a job where he can socialize, build friendships, and learn to share not one, but all of his toys.  It's a job where I can be sure that he is eating well, learning well, and having fun.  It's a job where I get paid, where I don't have three car seats so it's a little isolating sometimes, but I love it.  I truly love it. 

 

 

After nap one day, John gave Liam his ipod and headphone. 

Get this boy some tables, and he's ready to dj.  

 

Rock it, little man, rock it.

Here we are getting pancakes.  Mmmm maple syrup.  I think Liam would have eaten that tiger if we had covered it in enough syrup.  Maybe he would have even eaten vegetables. 

 

Again, one of the super MONSTER scary playgrounds that we tried out.  This one is really special, with a deck out to the lake, a street with fast cars, and playground equipment that's fifteen feet tall. 

But here we are looking cute -

Check out that super curl. 

 

 

 Liam loves to kiss the "baby". 

SOOOO FUNNN!

He actually says "weeee".  It just kills me.

We got a new chalkboard from Ikea.  Love Ikea.  Here we can experiment with eating chalk like french fries indoors instead of out.  This is also fun because we can decorate Daddy's pants with lines of pink chalk right before he leaves to teach.  That's okay Liam, there were already ketchup stains on it.  ;)

 

For the past few months, we've had a little playgroup with some friends.  I don't even know why we bring out the bowls with this group.  We should probably just throw the bag of crackers to them and see what happens. 

And our biggest achievement of the month -

BIG BOY BED! 

Inspired by the Montessori philosophy, I bought a twin mattress and put it right on the floor.  It's okay if he gets up from his bed because I stripped his room to make it more like a big, safe playpen.  The only things in the room now are his mattress, the bottom half of his dresser (it was a two piece antique hutch), and a few books.  There are a few pajamas in his dresser and a cd player on top where we play bedtime music.  I will add a small table and a few more books as time goes on, but I didn't want to distract him too much in the beginning.  We transitioned Liam to bigger blankets and a regular pillow a few months ago and he did very well with it.

I put the bed in and the first day we just talked about it.  We were very careful to be calm and quiet on the bed.  This is not a place for jumping or being wild (that will come in the weeks, months, years to come, I know), but it's a place for reading, cuddling, and sleeping.  Here we are getting used to it.  The first day Liam and I cuddled and read books on the new bed.  We pretended to sleep on it and put his monkeys to sleep.  They all wake with a big GOOOD MOOOORNING!!!! and we put our arms in the air! 

 Despite this solid beginning, I was still a little nervous.  

And then the first nap...

 

SUCCESS!

I spent the first forty five minutes of that nap sitting outside his door, reading a book and listening to him.  He talked to his monkeys for a few minutes and got really quiet.  When all was still for a very long time, I saw him.  Crashed. 

After that nap I thought that he would need more transition.  I thought we would nap in the bed for a few days, sleep in the crib at night and then make the full transition.  However, later that night I ran a few errands and came home later than expected.  John really wanted to help and put Liam to bed... in his crib.  With no transition.  With no help.  I was stunned for a minute, like, why did you DO that?  He NEEDS this?!?!  But Liam was asleep.  He did it.  And he has done it every nap and every bedtime since.  No problems, no transitions, no big deal. 

He did figure out that the pillow and covers are more comfortable.  He prefers those to the middle of the bed now. 

 

To close, here Liam is after a big blackberry snack in his stroller. Silly Mommy thought it would be a good idea to give the babies blackberries in a ziploc bag before going to the park.  Silly Mommy.  I didn't think that the berries (be-yees) would be so much FUN to SQUISH in the bag and THEN eat.  But, good job on getting the eyebrow too, bud.  Nice swipe.  :) 

To be continued with Easter and other news...

 

 

Fourteen Months, Christmas, New Years, and a Whole Lotta Fun

And here, told in acts, is the story of our last month: 

Act One:    In Which John is Done With School and We Have Fun

Going to the Park

Helping Mommy with the Groceries

 

 

Running Away from Mommy as We Change into Pajamas

 

Showing off Big Baby Belly after He Got into the Chair All By Himself For the First Time

And Lastly, Destroying the Kitchen (Notice the Cabinet Door Hanging Off It's Hinges)

Act Two:  Where We Travel to Chicago for a Night, then continue to Grand Rapids

We stayed at the Embassy Suites with my Dad, and it has the coolest design.  Deep stripes and glass balconies pull you to the center, where you can stare down to the lobby below.  While some people may have developed a fear of heights, Liam took full advantage of it. 

 

 

Then Liam and John continued to Grand Rapids, while My Dad, Suzy and her kids and I stayed in town to see the musical In the Heights.  We shopped, walked up and down Michigan Avenue, and visited the Lego Store. 

 

 

Act Three:  In Which We Celebrate Christmas Eve, Drink Too Much and Set Things on Fire

 

Act Four:  In Which We Celebrate Christmas

Liam LOVED opening the presents and the boxes way more than the actual gifts.  This is an improvement from last year, however, since he slept through the morning while Mommy opened the gifts.

He loved the Christmas tree and would carefully take off the bottom ornaments, examine them, and place them back in their spot.  As the days went on, Liam was more used to the tree and then took off the ornaments and gave them to people.  

We spent the morning at John's parents house, the afternoon with my Mom's side of the family, and the evening with my Dad and Suzy.  

At my Dad's house, Liam learned valuable skills like putting things inside the VCR and feeding the dog. 

It was a really great day and we felt so good to be able to spend the time with our families.  We are so lucky that we could come back for it. 

 Act Five:  Where we Slow Down and Enjoy Our Vacation (well, slow down as much as a toddler can)

 

Our little boy came to Grand Rapids a baby, but left a toddler in all his running, climbing, talking, signing glory. 

Whether it's food or an action, Liam has strong preferences.  He started doing the "eat" sign to signify more, food, or really anything that he wanted.  One afternoon, he was doing the eat sign to show that he wanted Grandpa Powers' blackberry.  So, Grandpa shut it off and handed it to him.  Liam looked at it, noticed that the screen was black, paused for a second, and looked back at him doing the eat sign.  As if to say, 'You're kidding me, right? You think you can fool me?'  He'll also deposit a book, puzzle, or toy in your hands and make the sign. 

 

 

Doing "eat" sign to mean "turn the radio back on!"

Liam really developed his climbing skills and got into the armchairs and his very own rocking chair over and over again.  After he would get into them, he would rub his face into the corners getting his hair all fuzzy and big and then clap for himself.  It's so amazing to see him doing these things on his own and feeling so proud. 

We saw all of our friends, and got pictures of some:

And pictures of one, John Powers:

Dad and I also took Liam sledding.  I was more nervous than Liam, who took the big hill like a champ! 

We ended our vacation with a trip to my friend Audrey's parents cottage.  That was really a special trip and it was so great to relax and spend time with friends.  It was so amazing to see our children playing together.  There are pictures below, and you may want to turn down your volume for the video (excited children running!)

Finally, Act Six:  In Which We Return the Madison, Spend the Whole Week Unpacking and Finally Get Around to Blogging. 

To Be Continued...