My Recipe For Relaxation Following An Insanely Busy Week In Which Husband Worked 14 Hour Days And Now I Think I'm Going To Collapse

Sometimes you just need to get all cozied up after a long hot shower (complete with leg shaving), throw on your favorite Christmas pj's (because it's always Christmas in my home) & fuzzy socks, listen to the rain pouring down outside and watch When Harry Met Sally for the 1,734th time. I will always love this movie, and I will never get tired of hearing, "Waiter, there is too much pepper on my paprikash. But I would be proud to partake of your pecan pie".


And the sugar/alcohol free lime-flavored sparkling water in a fancy wine glass is a delightful touch. Two thousand cheers for Friday! 

Update

Image via Wikipedia

Today is day seven of my no sugar/no alcohol Lenten commitment, and I am happy to report I am going strong. Full disclosure: I may have accidentally had a one inch bite of some leftover brownie but it felt like a rock in my belly and I immediately regretted it and swore off brownies forever. Aside from that, I've been hardcore. I was expecting detox tremors and the cold sweats, but in reality, I've just learned to function without it. For example, unsweetened applesauce is a lovely substitute for jam on my morning flax-seed toaster waffles. And who needs wine when there's water? They're practically the same thing, right? And I'm sure Dan will catch on soon, but I've learned that when he's drinking wine in the evening, if I cuddle up close and kiss him more often than usual, it's almost like I'm having a glass of wine, too. It's like getting a contact high, but with wine.

I have a feeling there will be an unprecedented number of kisses from here til Easter. See? WIN-WIN!

High-Low

I am desperately trying, as Mama Hen of my little nest, to make dinner hour a more pleasant event in our home. Trying to have a peaceful dinner hour (and by hour, I mean 15 minutes) where intelligent and pleasant conversation is exchanged is just not a reality right now. I have already added this to my list of "Someday We'll Be Able To________(fill in the blank), But Right Now It's Just Not Going To Happen". Usually dinner is a mad dash to the finish where Dan & I hardly get a word in edgewise because Ben just so happens to be the chattiest boy I've ever come across, and Ella barks out obtrusive squawking noises from her highchair to communicate things like, "I love that" or "I hate that", or "gimme gimme" or "I'm going to throw this at you now".  So we duck for cover, we eat, we listen to Ben and we try to give the illusion that we have control over our chaos.

Obviously, this is challenging. I miss the days of knowing what's actually happening in my husband's world. I miss hearing about his day at work, I miss hearing the funny stories (because as a highschool teacher, he's got a bunch). I miss the days of eating dinner sans indigestion. I miss sitting at the table once we're done eating just for the sake of sitting. For the sake of continuing conversation. Sure, I love what the kids bring to the table. I love their humor and their lighthearted little spirits, but I often wonder- is any of this sinking in? Is this special to them on any level? Do they recognize or appreciate the efforts that went into making this dinner possible? I've only ever heard and read about those families who sit in front of the TV while eating their dinner. But honestly, on some night's, that sounds downright heavenly.

So to help bring our individual worlds together, we implemented an somewhat-efficient way to communicate. When we remember, and when we're not too busy feeding our faces at the dinner table, we like to talk about our High & Low points of the day.

Today, my Low was finding my sunglasses and a piece of mail in the toilet, swimming together with whatever Ben left behind and forgot to flush away. Which made me realize two things: 1) There needs to be more strict enforcement of the "FLUSH EVERY TIME" rule in our house, and 2) I should just always leave my sunglasses in the car.

But then, because there is a God, there was a High. A moment I've anticipated for quite some time. Ben towed Ella on the back of his tricycle for almost 15 minutes this afternoon, and they both laughed and enjoyed it. This might not sound like anything special, but I assure you- once you've discovered mail and sunglasses in your toilet, anything remotely positive makes you feel on top of the world.

Some photo documentation of my High for your viewing pleasure (I'll spare you the photos of my Low. You're welcome):

 

 

Sacrifice

Last Wednesday marked the beginning of Lent, a time when many people choose to "give something up"; to abstain from something or some habit or some vice in our lives, until Easter arrives. The hope is that rather than turn to these things or habits or vices, we turn to prayer, mediation, acts of kindness/charity instead, and embrace these small "sufferings" and await the inevitable transformations that become of it. Honestly, I've not always been a big fan of the "giving something up"- I don't usually feel convicted one way or another, and I feel like a decision to truly sacrifice something ought to be done with strong conviction and should be heartfelt and meaningful. Truthfully, I wanted to avoid committing a personal "Lenten tokenism".

As a kid growing up, we were forced EVERY YEAR to give up TV watching. Which was okay for the most part, except that wouldn't you know it- EVERY YEAR the Oscars would happen during Lent season, and I'm pretty sure I was the only girl in the whole world who didn't get to see the glamor unfold on the red carpet, or see acceptance speeches, or swoon over live footage of Tom Cruise and Kevin Costner in tuxedos. I might still be carrying around a little bitterness over it. I promise never to do this to my children unless they're in a phase of severe misbehavior and I need a decent bribe to get me through til Christmas time.

And then I got the bright idea (and conviction! and excitement! and passion!) to give up my two favorite past-times: eating sweets and drinking wine. That's right. I am now on a heavily restricted no-sugar diet (because I still eat fruit and I sometimes use a little honey to sweeten my sad, plain yogurt) and a complete lock-down no-alcohol diet (because I'm crazy). I was really excited about this because it's a win-win no matter how you look at it. Anything I can do to supplement the hard work I've been doing in the gym over the last 3 months is only going to encourage me further, and I've given something up that has truly been a sacrifice. I wanted to choose something meaningful, and by golly- sugar & alcohol have always held a special place in my heart. It's made me aware of all the other things I can be doing with my time, my body, my mind in lieu of ingesting sugar or alcohol. It's also made me aware of how much I adore unwinding with a glass (or two) of wine.

I won't lie, it's been...difficult.

Day 1, I had one of the worst headaches of my life. I'd like to think it was an unrelated headache, because it's not like I eat doughnuts and drink shots of vodka from sunrise to sunset or anything. How the heck could I be "withdrawing" so quickly? Was this a head game (pun intended)? The headache lingered all day long, tempting me to just call the whole thing off, throw in the towel, run down to the closest 7-11 and buy myself some M&M's and a bottle of sauvignon blanc. But I'm actually quite fond of this challenge because I know that I can do it. When I think of how many more instances I'm going to have a craving for one or both things, and how many instances I'm going to have to resist the temptation and find something else to do, I cringe. But when I look at it one day, one hour at a time, I feel strengthened and even more passionate about this commitment.

43 days to go. If I don't blog for a few days, it means I cracked under pressure, gave up on the commitment and I'm too ashamed to say so.

Pop Culture, 101

Ever since Ella started walking, her relationship with Ben has been taken to a whole new level. I've waited for this stage for 15 months, and I knew with her sassy little 'tude, she'd be able to stand up to his almost-four-year-old zaniness. No longer is she the delicate baby who can't do much but fuss and potentially get in the way of his boyish playtime. In his eyes, now she is fair game, and he isn't interested in wasting any more time. By golly, there are months' worth of games he needs to educate her about! He's tried teaching her about the game of Tag which, so far, seems to be their most successful game. In our house, a game is successful if the quantity of laughs outnumber the quantity of tears. Yesterday they both willingly participated in a somewhat organized match of wrestling. Half the time I couldn't even see them but about every 5 seconds yelled out "BE GENTLE WITH HER!" for good measure. I like to refer to this method as "Halfway Parenting". In a pinch, it works wonders.

And then today a new game was born. I think this game is called Intro to Pop Culture, and it has me deeply afraid. As I was cleaning up breakfast this morning, Ben & Ella were playing together quietly in the living room. And I overheard a very frustrated Ben say this to my sweet & innocent baby girl:

"NO, SISSY! (his affectionate nickname for Ella) You can't walk away from me because I'm being Super Man, and you have to be Lady Gaga! Okay? OKAAAAAAY, SISSY? BE LADY GAGA! Mama, sissy's not being Lady Gaga!"

 Ella, sweetheart, Mommy is begging you: please don't be Lady Gaga.

How or when or where he heard of Lady Gaga, I'm not really sure. I tried to inquire about how he knew her name, but he was still hyper-focused on being Super Man, who had a universe to save and a pop star to charm. And so it begins; he already doesn't have enough time in his day for his poor mother.

What can I do? Nothing. We already went almost four whole years without the words "kill" or "gun" entering his vocabulary, and I regard that as hugely successful considering how it was just a matter of time before he'd create a gun out of a toy screwdriver and pretend to kill me with it. So for now I'm perplexed, playing it cool, and putting all TV viewing on heightened security. But trust me, if either of my kids so much as hum the tune to "Poker Face", I am SO calling a shrink. 

Date Night

Image by Martha★ via Flickr

Saturday night was our Valentine's Day Date Night, and we thought we had bamboozled the entire public by going out and celebrating a whole day early. What a couple of CRAZY kids we are! Here was the recipe for our date night beat-the-crowd success (in case you want to take notes and plan better for next year):

1) I went to Ross and found one very adorable/ridiculously comfortable/very affordable dress to wear approximately one hour before Date departure time. In this instance, $10 was a small price to pay for the level of cuteness I brought to the table. And when Dan saw this level of cuteness, he knew it was time to bring the big guns.
2) Dan bringing the big guns = Dan got super cute himself and applied Marc Jacobs cologne (which Ben passionately praised Dan for before we left the house, claiming that he smelled quite "fresh"). Dan also wore his new fedora which made him even taller and sexier and further affirming my decision to marry him 5 years and 3 months ago. I haven't always made the best decisions, but that one stays at the top of my "way to go" list.
3) Went to dinner ridiculously early (because this sneaky tactic will always yield many table possibilities AND increase your chances of arriving upon some sort of "happy hour" special).
4) Went to see a movie that has been out for 2 months (in our case, the very "romantic" Avatar) and consequently the dust had settled around the hype of said movie. Therefore, we were able to claim two decent seats. And honestly, half the fun of it all was smuggling in 3 bags of M&M's that we purchased from the gas station just minutes before. Because when you're paying $11 for a movie ticket (can you believe they charge $2 whole extra dollars for the 3-D!) buying M&M's for a decent price feels like a small victory. For the record, and for those curious, I did enjoy Avatar. It was visually incredible and really quite beautiful. But I'm sure anyone reading this already knows the reasons to see Avatar because Dan & I were most likely the last people on earth to see it.
5) Drove home holding hands, arrived home relaxed, paid the babysitter, received one angry voicemail from our grumpy neighbor who complains about our dog (we're going with the "kill them with kindness" approach), cuddled up and fell asleep within 3.5 seconds of hitting my pillow.

I hope I always get excited to put on a dress for Dan, and I hope he always gets excited to put cologne on for me. Because in our crazy day-to-day lives, both gestures are rare.  But I cherish having such a simple way to let him know that I love him with all of my heart.

Really, it was quite the perfect evening.

Sassypants

So during my time of being MIA from this blog, my baby girl officially (and FINALLY) became a walking girl. I know! Very. Big. News. And although this is what I've been yearning for quite some time now (no offense Ella, but 25 pounds is a bit much to lug around all day, and these hips of mine aren't what they used to be since birthing two babies), I find I'm the slightest bit...sad. Because, let's face it: it's official. Ella totally doesn't need me for anything anymore. I mean, aside from the whole feeding her/protecting her thing. Ohhhh, the emotional conflict that is parenting.

Anyway, I've discovered over these last 15 months of her life that she is gifted in many areas, but perhaps the two areas she continues to excel in are 1) being ridiculously cute and 2) being ridiculously sassy. She is doing things that shock me on a daily basis that seem FAR TOO EARLY for her to have mastered. Like, quality Academy Award Winning Performances such as arching her back when I'm trying to buckle her in the carseat. Or throwing herself on the floor (face down) and crying bitter tears when I use that painful word, "NO". There is a very strong shoe fetish that has already developed. She sometimes appears to intentionally soil her outfit of the day, JUST SO I CAN CHANGE HER INTO A NEW ONE. She's crazy for anything that resembles a baby doll. And I'm fairly certain the other day she attempted to roll her eyes at me out of pure disgust and annoyance. Ever since then, I've been expecting her any day now to say something like, "Uh, Mom, can you, like, drop me off at the park, like, a few blocks away so, like, not all my friends see you? And why can't we have a cooler car? Honda's are SOOOOO last year. By the way, can I like, borrow $20? And your mascara?"

And we haven't even scratched the surface of the impending PMS/raging hormone years. I'm pretty sure I have NO IDEA what I'm in for down the road. Lord, have mercy.

Which is precisely why I force myself to take little videos, such as this one, so that I can look back 15 years from now and say, see? Isn't she wonderful? Isn't she the most darling, precious thing you ever did see? Don't wring her neck! Instead grab her and make her watch these sweet home videos that show just how crazy I was for that baby girl, and how one look with those chocolate brown eyes of hers, and I am putty in her chubby little hands.

On Where I've Been

I am not good at using my time to its utmost efficiency. Or maybe it's just that I grossly underestimate how long most things will take. Example: I've always been pretty convinced that driving anywhere in the county will take me about 15 minutes. And then in those RARE instances when I actually trek out on a Costco run (one of my top 5 most dreaded outings because who can stand the chaotic parking lots and terrible lighting and the lines and the ridiculously heavy carts), clear on the other side of the county, it becomes very obvious that "15 minutes" was a major underestimation. More examples: a few years ago, I saw no reason why we couldn't paint three bedrooms in the span of one morning, even if we had a curious crawling baby at the bottom of our ladders, playing in the tray of wet paint. I honestly thought it would take an hour. SINGULAR. One hour. Really, it took 5 days. In this case, gross underestimation of about 39 hours.

My husband still laughs (and yes, there's a slight mocking tone to his laugh) at my constant state of over-optimism. I'm the type of person who wakes up thinking how wonderful it would be to make a lunch for my husband before he leaves for work, begin a load of laundry, prepare individual 3 egg omelets from scratch (but not before I begin making delicious morning muffins) for the entire family, clean the kitchen, get everyone showered, dressed and pressed before 8 am. But in reality, the truth is SOMEthing always gives, something falls to the bottom of the priority list, and the something is usually my shower or personal grooming time that suffers. So instead, my reality is Dan leaves the house in the morning making his own sad little lunches, laundry only gets done when everyone is out of clean underwear, I've still never actually made an omelet in my life, the kitchen accumulates dishes all day long, I often face the world without makeup or appropriate clothing (I feel a nomination for What Not To Wear coming on...), and sometimes the dog doesn't get fed until dinner. Jealous?

So what's with all the true confessions and where have I been, you ask (well at least 3 of you have asked)? Why have I abandoned my blog for almost a month?

I'm not really sure. All I know is, the kids both got sick at the same time, and then I underwent what was the two most challenging weeks of my life. This wasn't the first time they've both been sick simultaneously, but it was definitely the most exhausting. A few doctor visits, sleepless nights and SEVERAL prescriptions later, they have been restored to health, but I honestly think the experience took a huge toll on me. The backlash of it all sent me into an almost month-long state of writer's block. There were lots of tears. There were days where it took every ounce of energy just to get out of bed and do it all over again. I was like a 90 year old woman, and would fall asleep within an hour of eating my dinner. I could hardly even muster the energy to watch The Bachelor! I was behind on EVERYTHING for weeks. Bills. Phone calls. Emails. Showering. Working out. Grocery shopping. Showering. Quilting (!). Reading. Showering. And truthfully, it's hard to sit and blog when you feel unclean and hungry and completely out of sorts. So....I just didn't blog. I just didn't do a lot of things.

And, I'm a creature of habit. So once I got out of the routine of blogging (and showering and paying bills and working out and quilting) it was extremely hard for me to get back in it. It's just the type of person I am- regardless of the wonderful intentions I may have, I have a tendency to over-promise and under-deliver. I mean, for heaven's sakes, when I was growing up I had my younger siblings convinced that if we just put a little elbow grease into it, surely we could dig a tunnel to China. TEAMWORK! KEEP DIGGING!!! See? Classic case of over-promise, under-deliver (or as I affectionately refer to it, OPUD).

Also, for the record (and somewhat in my defense): there haven't been many inspirational "bloggable moments" lately that I felt were of any interest to write about. But then again, I've been asleep or in a haze lately, so maybe I missed a few things.

But, regardless, I'm back, baby. Sooooooooo back.

And I killed it at the gym yesterday and celebrated my success with a homemade milkshake.