Dear Big Dog,
Wow, you’re five. You’ve been on the plant for half a decade. I can’t believe how quickly how time has passed. Yes, it is a cliché, but it so completely applies. Hell, I swear I can still feel the back labor! At the same time I can’t believe you’ve only been in my life for the past 5 years, since your presence so fully integrated in my life, I don’t know how I’d see the world without you.
You’ve grown from a squirming newborn to a charming little boy, and I am constantly surprised by just how much you’ve changed. You’ve been more boy than baby for a while, but this past year has been a year of more subtle changes. Your vocabulary has continued to blossom, or should I say explode? You’ve acquired so many new words, phrases and are even able to apply the subtleties of intonation. It is as though you are a language sponge, (even for many of my most inappropriate expletives) and you seem to truly enjoy playing with words and meaning. I love watching this side of you develop.
At this tender age, you've already written your first book, (Toot the Train) complete with illustrations. Even more, you tell stories and sing great songs, all original, all slightly odd, all 100% Big Dog. I never know if the story is going to involve ghosts or raining pizzas, snakes or talking dogs, all I know is that I'll never hear anything like it anywhere else.
This year also marks your exploration into traditional comedy. Sure, some of your jokes don’t really make sense, but true comedy takes time, right? I love watching you play with paring incongruous concepts, finding the humor in a specific word, or probe the potential for laughs in an absurd situation. I can’t wait to see where this takes you, little man.
When we lost Mao, that was your real first hand experience with death. I’m not sure we did the right thing as parents by shielding you to an extent, but even as an adult I have such limited experience in this realm and I’m not really sure what I believe about what happens next. I think you got it, you knew he was gone, and that he had been very sick, but I wonder if you needed more from me. Maybe I was too cloaked in my own grief to really support you. I’m sorry for that. Even then, your efforts to comfort me when I was sad were truly moving.
You had other big transitions this year too, from your daycare/preschool to your new school. You shocked me with your readiness to embrace the new environment. I’d been protecting you from this transition, and it turns out you really thrived on the new challenges. Way to go!
Some things have not changed, you still love animals. I don’t think a day goes by that Nikita is not showered with kisses. Dashiell may be bigger than you know how to manage, but he gets his fair share of sweet words and probably more than his fair share of treats. More recently, you show such an adorable connection to Goldie, it is hard to believe she is just a fish in a tank. You talk to her and share with us her observations on the world. I love the way it shows your desire to connect with others, even those who don’t breathe air.
I’m sure you know it, because I say it often, but Big Dog, I am so proud of you. Not only are you handsome, smart and funny, you are a nice person. You are sympathetic to others and full of love. How could I ask for anything else?
Happy Birthday my big guy! I love you more than words could ever convey.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Proof I have a problem
Friday is Big Dog's birthday. I'm trying not to go overboard, but there is something about party planning that makes me go a bit nutty. One thing is clear, I like to aim for perfection. And if I'm completely honest, that aim has always been just a bit, ok a lot, out of my reach.
A normal birthday party for a five year old, should be a piece of cake. Ok, a full cake, a few games, a few kids, a few gifts, and maybe a balloon or two. And that's kind of what I'm doing. Except our house is still mid-remodel and there is little space for a party. And since Big Dog just recently changed schools, we have a bigger list of desired guests than our home can easily accommodate. And since our home is usually somewhere between disaster areas and one of those apartment you read about where there is so much stuff piled up over the years that the occupants have created narrow paths between the stacks of newspapers and piles of trash to travel between rooms. (ok, that might be a slight exaggeration) And since it is so nice to be able to have a party on someone else's turf and stick them with the clean up instead of having to clean to prepare for the party, host the party then spend the rest of the day cleaning up again, I decided to have a party somewhere else.
After close deliberating with Big Dog over what kind of party he'd like, we settled on a gymnastics party. They do a cool party package with a one hour class for the kids followed by one hour in a party room for the official sugaring up of the party guests. This gave me the freedom to invite many of Big Dog's friends and the ability to have a party with minimal cleaning required. All I have to do is get everything there, set up quickly and then sit back and enjoy. The only challenge to this was they needed a final headcount by Tuesday the week of the party, and I got the invites out late. I gave the parents a few days to reply then sent out a follow up email. We got a great response, but we also discovered that two of Big Dog's classmates are having their birthday parties that same day. Other than the birthday girls, it didn't seem to diminish our turnout much, but we still have a couple of unknowns who never RSVP'd.
Since I needed to get the supplies online, I had to start that part of things moving even before we had a headcount. So I had to start preparing. As you know, my early discussion with Big Dog resulted in being duped into starting a new and expensive hobby, so I was reluctant to do that again. Every time I asked him what theme he wanted, he'd come up with something new, and then he'd start planning birthday parties for next year and the year after that. (Next year we're having a racing theme, with cars. Lots of cars. The year after, it is a pool party. Or at least that's what he's saying now.) We finally settled on a Scooby Doo theme. This was after having settled on a fish theme, a frog theme, a butterfly theme, a frog theme, a car theme, a pirate theme, a fish theme, a dog theme...you get the idea.
I've been fairly well swamped at work, and I knew I had to do the bulk of the party supply purchasing on line. It actually worked out well. I had no idea how many sites there were prepped and ready to sell you all of the Scooby Doo supplies you could ever imagine. I got everything I needed, and now I am just sweating the arrival of the last box which is absolutely required to complete our goody bags. I'm sure it will arrive, but I'm equally sure I'll be stressed and twitchy by the time it does.
So let's talk about those goody bags. I like making goody bags, but I don't especially like getting them. I hate getting in the car after my child has been pumped full of cake, ice cream and juice only to find my child digging into the extra take home sugar rush of candy from the goody bag. For this reason, I never put candy in goody bags. Yeah, I'm one of those moms. This year, I am especially proud of our goody bags. They have a few cool items that were really inspired by Big Dog. We've got Wikki Stix, Floam, tiny flashlights, bubbles and Scooby Doo stickers. I'm psyched.
Finally we have the cake. My original plan was that I'd bake the organic, custom designed cake in my copious spare time. It would be decorated with the cast of Scooby Doo, hand sculpted from colored rolled fondant and resemble something that matched the image of the cake I have dreamed up in my delusional mind. Uh, yeah. That didn't happen. I got as far as buying the fondant and coloring, and printing photos of the "Gang" off the internet before reality set in. Let's face it, we have 23 kids coming to this party. This isn't some normal cake. It would have to be massive. We'd need to have cake for the kids and for the parents that decided to dig in. I'd have to trust my crappy oven to bake evenly AND I'd have to invest in new baking pans large enough to make this monstrous cake. Not to mention, I'd have to find time to do this at a time in my schedule that I can't seem to find time to unpack my suitcase from last week. So yesterday I caved and ordered a cake, complete with Scooby, Shaggy and Velma (Big Dog's favorite) from a local bakery.
So now I just have to finish up. Put together the goody bags, buy Big Dog a gift, pick up and deliver the cake, and I'm sure I'll come up with another long list of to dos. But as long as he's smiling at the end of it, it will all be worth it. I just hope I survive.
A normal birthday party for a five year old, should be a piece of cake. Ok, a full cake, a few games, a few kids, a few gifts, and maybe a balloon or two. And that's kind of what I'm doing. Except our house is still mid-remodel and there is little space for a party. And since Big Dog just recently changed schools, we have a bigger list of desired guests than our home can easily accommodate. And since our home is usually somewhere between disaster areas and one of those apartment you read about where there is so much stuff piled up over the years that the occupants have created narrow paths between the stacks of newspapers and piles of trash to travel between rooms. (ok, that might be a slight exaggeration) And since it is so nice to be able to have a party on someone else's turf and stick them with the clean up instead of having to clean to prepare for the party, host the party then spend the rest of the day cleaning up again, I decided to have a party somewhere else.
After close deliberating with Big Dog over what kind of party he'd like, we settled on a gymnastics party. They do a cool party package with a one hour class for the kids followed by one hour in a party room for the official sugaring up of the party guests. This gave me the freedom to invite many of Big Dog's friends and the ability to have a party with minimal cleaning required. All I have to do is get everything there, set up quickly and then sit back and enjoy. The only challenge to this was they needed a final headcount by Tuesday the week of the party, and I got the invites out late. I gave the parents a few days to reply then sent out a follow up email. We got a great response, but we also discovered that two of Big Dog's classmates are having their birthday parties that same day. Other than the birthday girls, it didn't seem to diminish our turnout much, but we still have a couple of unknowns who never RSVP'd.
Since I needed to get the supplies online, I had to start that part of things moving even before we had a headcount. So I had to start preparing. As you know, my early discussion with Big Dog resulted in being duped into starting a new and expensive hobby, so I was reluctant to do that again. Every time I asked him what theme he wanted, he'd come up with something new, and then he'd start planning birthday parties for next year and the year after that. (Next year we're having a racing theme, with cars. Lots of cars. The year after, it is a pool party. Or at least that's what he's saying now.) We finally settled on a Scooby Doo theme. This was after having settled on a fish theme, a frog theme, a butterfly theme, a frog theme, a car theme, a pirate theme, a fish theme, a dog theme...you get the idea.
I've been fairly well swamped at work, and I knew I had to do the bulk of the party supply purchasing on line. It actually worked out well. I had no idea how many sites there were prepped and ready to sell you all of the Scooby Doo supplies you could ever imagine. I got everything I needed, and now I am just sweating the arrival of the last box which is absolutely required to complete our goody bags. I'm sure it will arrive, but I'm equally sure I'll be stressed and twitchy by the time it does.
So let's talk about those goody bags. I like making goody bags, but I don't especially like getting them. I hate getting in the car after my child has been pumped full of cake, ice cream and juice only to find my child digging into the extra take home sugar rush of candy from the goody bag. For this reason, I never put candy in goody bags. Yeah, I'm one of those moms. This year, I am especially proud of our goody bags. They have a few cool items that were really inspired by Big Dog. We've got Wikki Stix, Floam, tiny flashlights, bubbles and Scooby Doo stickers. I'm psyched.
Finally we have the cake. My original plan was that I'd bake the organic, custom designed cake in my copious spare time. It would be decorated with the cast of Scooby Doo, hand sculpted from colored rolled fondant and resemble something that matched the image of the cake I have dreamed up in my delusional mind. Uh, yeah. That didn't happen. I got as far as buying the fondant and coloring, and printing photos of the "Gang" off the internet before reality set in. Let's face it, we have 23 kids coming to this party. This isn't some normal cake. It would have to be massive. We'd need to have cake for the kids and for the parents that decided to dig in. I'd have to trust my crappy oven to bake evenly AND I'd have to invest in new baking pans large enough to make this monstrous cake. Not to mention, I'd have to find time to do this at a time in my schedule that I can't seem to find time to unpack my suitcase from last week. So yesterday I caved and ordered a cake, complete with Scooby, Shaggy and Velma (Big Dog's favorite) from a local bakery.
So now I just have to finish up. Put together the goody bags, buy Big Dog a gift, pick up and deliver the cake, and I'm sure I'll come up with another long list of to dos. But as long as he's smiling at the end of it, it will all be worth it. I just hope I survive.
Monday, October 6, 2008
On the road again.
Travel always wears me out. It's bad enough when it is pleasure travel to return home at the end of your trip feeling like the world slapped you around a little, but it's far worse when it is business travel. Not only do I return home to a house of men returned to their natural state, I am exhausted, guilty and usually a bit stressed by my inability to be more than one place at once.
Last week I was away for the better part of four days. And though the reason I was traveling was good, and I got a lot done and all of the good cheerleader talk that goes with being a team player, it was brutal. For me and for my family.
Start with the trip to the airport. Our nanny was gracious enough to drop me off, and as I was getting out of the car and saying goodbye to Little Dog, he asked, "I come with you, mama?" I had to tell him, no, he was staying with NE and I would be back soon. His head sagged, he looked down, crestfallen and started to cry. In turn, I felt like I was abandoning this precious little person who only wanted to spend more time with me. In other words, I felt like the worst mom in the history of shitty moms. It sucked. I managed to cheer him up by bribing him with the promise of chocolate milk, but I entered the airport with his sad face on my mind. How's that for unchecked baggage?
Due to a recent tightening of travel budgets for our organization, I've been less able to fly down to California to see my team. This means when I do go down, I have a lot more commitments. I have to make up for all of the distance in the few short days I'm in town. It can be fun, but it usually means long days, short nights and a bit of stress trying to see everyone, touch base with my team and make enough time to fit everything in. Don't get me wrong, I love my team. They are fantastic. I work with some of the smartest, funniest, nicest people I've ever met. It is the non-stop schedule that kills me. My typical day in California runs long. I'm up by 6:00 am and I'm lucky if I'm in bed by 1 am. Some of it work, some of it social and some of it travel from place to place. By the end of the trip, I feel like I need a vacation just to get back to my normal state of mind. Bookend that schedule with the stress of a fear of flying (coupled this time with mechanical issues on the way there and back that left us sitting on the tarmac awaitng repairs) and you have the perfect recipe for a migraine.
When I get home from a trip, I have to go through all of the emotional highs and lows that follow a bout of mommy-abandonment. First the kids are so keyed up they are bouncing off the walls, then they get clingy, then they act surprised every time they see me. It can take days for them to really feel like I'm really back for good, and that breaks my heart. Today, when I was leaving to take Big Dog to preschool, Little Dog ran to get his shoes. "I come with you, mommy?" he asked, full of expectation. "No sweetie, you're staying home with NE," I explained, my stomach dropping, "but I'll be home tonight." And the tears started again.
It isn't that I want to be home all of the time, I just wish the departure and re-entry were less brutal. I feel like I end up coming home trying to be supermom just to repair any damage I may have done to the children, and superwife to try to re-ingratiate myself to my husband. See, I feel guilty leaving him to fend for himself with both kids too. I don't envy single parents. In fact I have no idea how they do it. It is like they have some kind of superpowers that I lack. In my world it takes two fully-engaged adults to wrangle the kids and keep our own sanity in tact. And even with both of us home, we usually end the day falling into bed utterly exhausted. In some small way I feel like despite the obvious challenges of business travel, leaving him with the kids is the poopy end of the stick. Add to this, Mr. Dog had just started a new job last week. More stress and pressure to be on time, be pulled together, be rested and ready to get up to speed. In other words, not the best time for your wife to disappear leaving you at the mercy of two tiny dictators who seem to thrive on a persistent lack of sleep.
We all survived it, but I have noticed we are all a bit frazzled since I returned. We're having more time outs, more "you need to listen to mommy and poppa" discussions and more general family friction. And my bags have yet to be unpacked. Did I say I need a vacation? I fly off to Vegas on Oct. 17th for Auntie Chihuahua's hen party. Then we have a family trip to Colorado the following week. Well, at least I'm already packed.
Last week I was away for the better part of four days. And though the reason I was traveling was good, and I got a lot done and all of the good cheerleader talk that goes with being a team player, it was brutal. For me and for my family.
Start with the trip to the airport. Our nanny was gracious enough to drop me off, and as I was getting out of the car and saying goodbye to Little Dog, he asked, "I come with you, mama?" I had to tell him, no, he was staying with NE and I would be back soon. His head sagged, he looked down, crestfallen and started to cry. In turn, I felt like I was abandoning this precious little person who only wanted to spend more time with me. In other words, I felt like the worst mom in the history of shitty moms. It sucked. I managed to cheer him up by bribing him with the promise of chocolate milk, but I entered the airport with his sad face on my mind. How's that for unchecked baggage?
Due to a recent tightening of travel budgets for our organization, I've been less able to fly down to California to see my team. This means when I do go down, I have a lot more commitments. I have to make up for all of the distance in the few short days I'm in town. It can be fun, but it usually means long days, short nights and a bit of stress trying to see everyone, touch base with my team and make enough time to fit everything in. Don't get me wrong, I love my team. They are fantastic. I work with some of the smartest, funniest, nicest people I've ever met. It is the non-stop schedule that kills me. My typical day in California runs long. I'm up by 6:00 am and I'm lucky if I'm in bed by 1 am. Some of it work, some of it social and some of it travel from place to place. By the end of the trip, I feel like I need a vacation just to get back to my normal state of mind. Bookend that schedule with the stress of a fear of flying (coupled this time with mechanical issues on the way there and back that left us sitting on the tarmac awaitng repairs) and you have the perfect recipe for a migraine.
When I get home from a trip, I have to go through all of the emotional highs and lows that follow a bout of mommy-abandonment. First the kids are so keyed up they are bouncing off the walls, then they get clingy, then they act surprised every time they see me. It can take days for them to really feel like I'm really back for good, and that breaks my heart. Today, when I was leaving to take Big Dog to preschool, Little Dog ran to get his shoes. "I come with you, mommy?" he asked, full of expectation. "No sweetie, you're staying home with NE," I explained, my stomach dropping, "but I'll be home tonight." And the tears started again.
It isn't that I want to be home all of the time, I just wish the departure and re-entry were less brutal. I feel like I end up coming home trying to be supermom just to repair any damage I may have done to the children, and superwife to try to re-ingratiate myself to my husband. See, I feel guilty leaving him to fend for himself with both kids too. I don't envy single parents. In fact I have no idea how they do it. It is like they have some kind of superpowers that I lack. In my world it takes two fully-engaged adults to wrangle the kids and keep our own sanity in tact. And even with both of us home, we usually end the day falling into bed utterly exhausted. In some small way I feel like despite the obvious challenges of business travel, leaving him with the kids is the poopy end of the stick. Add to this, Mr. Dog had just started a new job last week. More stress and pressure to be on time, be pulled together, be rested and ready to get up to speed. In other words, not the best time for your wife to disappear leaving you at the mercy of two tiny dictators who seem to thrive on a persistent lack of sleep.
We all survived it, but I have noticed we are all a bit frazzled since I returned. We're having more time outs, more "you need to listen to mommy and poppa" discussions and more general family friction. And my bags have yet to be unpacked. Did I say I need a vacation? I fly off to Vegas on Oct. 17th for Auntie Chihuahua's hen party. Then we have a family trip to Colorado the following week. Well, at least I'm already packed.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Planting a seed.
My car is not a quiet place. Ever. Especially when the boys are strapped into their car seats. But the shrieking coming from Little Dog almost caused me to swerve into oncoming traffic!
"What's wrong?" I asked, frantic to figure out what had happened.
"There's a spiderweb!"
Wow, all that noise over a spiderweb, and he had now returned to calm child status.
"Where is the spiderweb?" expecting to hear that some misguided arachnid had built a home on the outside of the window.
"On my hip. It hurts. The web hurts!" he insisted, despite his I'm-yanking-mama's-chain tone of voice and sly smile.
"I don't think you have a spiderweb on your hip, I think you have an overactive imagination," I said calmly.
The shrieking resumed. Maybe something really was wrong. "What's wrong?" I asked again.
"I have an overactive imagination! It hurts!"
Sigh.
"What's wrong?" I asked, frantic to figure out what had happened.
"There's a spiderweb!"
Wow, all that noise over a spiderweb, and he had now returned to calm child status.
"Where is the spiderweb?" expecting to hear that some misguided arachnid had built a home on the outside of the window.
"On my hip. It hurts. The web hurts!" he insisted, despite his I'm-yanking-mama's-chain tone of voice and sly smile.
"I don't think you have a spiderweb on your hip, I think you have an overactive imagination," I said calmly.
The shrieking resumed. Maybe something really was wrong. "What's wrong?" I asked again.
"I have an overactive imagination! It hurts!"
Sigh.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
All dressed up...
"We're going to buy Halloween costumes. What do you want to be?" I asked Little Dog.
"I want a costume!" he replied with sincere enthusiasm.
"Great! What kind of costume?"
"Want a Halloween costume!" he clarified.
"Yes, but what kind of Halloween costume?" I asked hoping for more direction.
"French."
"French? You want to be French for Halloween?" I asked, thinking I'd misunderstood him.
"Yes!"
Uh, ok. I figured we'd work something out at the costume shop.
In the car, Big Dog tried to narrow in on what kind of costume Little Dog had in mind.
"You're going to have a Halloween costume, but what do you want to be?" he stressed.
"Jealous," Little Dog replied emphatically.
"No, what do you want to be for Halloween?" he asked again.
"Scared."
Big Dog was easier, he wanted to be a cowboy. I know how to shop for that.
"I want a costume!" he replied with sincere enthusiasm.
"Great! What kind of costume?"
"Want a Halloween costume!" he clarified.
"Yes, but what kind of Halloween costume?" I asked hoping for more direction.
"French."
"French? You want to be French for Halloween?" I asked, thinking I'd misunderstood him.
"Yes!"
Uh, ok. I figured we'd work something out at the costume shop.
In the car, Big Dog tried to narrow in on what kind of costume Little Dog had in mind.
"You're going to have a Halloween costume, but what do you want to be?" he stressed.
"Jealous," Little Dog replied emphatically.
"No, what do you want to be for Halloween?" he asked again.
"Scared."
Big Dog was easier, he wanted to be a cowboy. I know how to shop for that.
Friday, September 26, 2008
My Neurotic Need to Know.
Someone is coming here after googling "craigslist Nicefo". Yeah, I've mentioned it before, way back when, but when I see someone end up here after googling that, I'm curious. Who is googling "craigslist Nicefo" and what are they looking for? Are they looking for the Nicefo forum Id? (It's 4231 if that is your purpose)
More curious than why they are googling it is why I care. I can't explain it. Well, maybe I can, but that would be tedious and I'm sure you'd just roll your eyes. So I won't.
If you came here from googling "craigslit Nicefo" be a dear and leave a comment. It's making me a bit crazy. Thanks!
More curious than why they are googling it is why I care. I can't explain it. Well, maybe I can, but that would be tedious and I'm sure you'd just roll your eyes. So I won't.
If you came here from googling "craigslit Nicefo" be a dear and leave a comment. It's making me a bit crazy. Thanks!
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