Merry Christmas, Mr. Hijuelos

This weekend we're decorating for the holidays: trimming the tree, lighting the house, decking the halls. A personal holiday celebration, I will once again be reading this book. I first read it before having my son; I cherished it then and it has only gained significance since. It makes me thankful for family and traditions so precious we couldn't bear to live without them. His writing is delicate, spare, strong. It's quiet but immensely moving. It's perfection. My eyes sting with the anticipation of reading it again.

From now until the week of Christmas, work will be crazy. Demands will be many, many, many. But reading Mr. Ives' Christmas will be a wonderful calm in the storm. A perfect reminder of what's really important.

Merry Christmas to me.

Mother's Day?

I checked the calendar. We are less than 1 week from Thanksgiving. Just over one month from Christmas. But yesterday I could've sworn it was Mother's Day.

Chris agreed to take a hot yoga class with me, even though he generally eschews organized exercise classes, new age music, and any kind of stretching. He really tried, too! With sweat pouring from his body he leaned into warrior pose, then warrior 2; he took each down dog as an opportunity to perfect his pose. And although I caught him checking the clock more than once (maybe more like 20 times -- it was a 75-min class, so understood), it made me so happy. When the instructor laid the wet rag over my eyes I was smiling ear-to-ear. I don't know if he'll accompany me again, but, as any married woman could tell you, that isn't the point.

Then after we got home and I was tucking Nicky into bed, he chilled some white wine for me and turned on the Project Runway season finale. Oh snap.

I was looking for a good picture to accompany this post, and while I wish to high heaven that I'd snapped a shot of him last night, this is what I finally selected. While not particularly great of either of us, I've always loved this image. It was taken after dinner the night of my baby shower. We were getting ready to leave the party and I'm telling some animated story about who-knows-what. I am 8 months pregnant, but for some reason I don't look it. Anyway, what I love most about it is that in anticipation of his son's arrival Chris had purchased the very best digital camera, the very video camera, and has it all strapped on commando-style. That's so him.

Mommy Brain

When I started this blog, I wanted to avoid only blogging about my little man. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but I felt I needed a space to wax poetic on all the other things rattling around up there. Turns out, he's all I think about (well, him and a couple others). For now at least.

Can you blame me?

Pumpkin Perfect

We had such a great Halloween. Last year, Nicky was a bit--actually, quite a bit--of a party pooper, but this year he really enjoyed himself and it was so much fun to watch. Chris and I loved walking him around our neighborhood in his wagon, imagining how much fun he'll have trick or treating these dark streets (there are no streetlights in our neighborhood), running with the groups of boys who passed us. When I think of the life ahead of him, well, it just makes me really happy.

After Nick went to bed (with his grandparents downstairs), Chris and I rallied ourselves out of the house in some last-minute costumes. We saw lots of crazy getups and felt a bit old, in the very best way. We travelled home with the leaves crunching under the tires, the windows down and the heat on our feet. Once we got there I picked my son up out of his crib and snuggled him, trying to commit to memory the exact weight, the exact smell of his warm, sleepy body. He was so exhausted he barely noticed.

Cambridge

Don't get me wrong ... this awesome upgrade was a wonderful surprise. Quite a view of the Charles! My facilitation today went well, too.

But I miss...

My family

Taking my bud-bud to and fro

And my cozy home.

Goodnight!!

Happiness is a Choice

I'm famous for saying this, even though I believe it's an unfair and untrue statement in many cases. In my case, however, I believe it's accurate and something I should repeat to myself more often. Yesterday, I said it for the last time around 2 p.m. and I finally believed it. I pushed the 20-lb chip off my shoulder and decided to get on with things and took care of business. I made a list, checked it twice, and got all the shit done I've been meaning to for a few weeks now that had finally put me in a foul mood around Sunday morning. Well, not everything, but every realistic thing. I'm a bit of a perfectionist, so getting everything done would mean I stayed up around the clock for around 2 weeks repainting rooms, making curtains and floor pillows, getting busy with some chalkboard paint, and becoming proficient at a number of things I've never once tried. I got the pressing things done. And that was enough. I feel better and I feel glad to be over it. I can be such a bummer.

Some things that helped:

• Nicky has started throwing things in the toilet when no one is looking. I went to the bathroom and found a couple pieces of Tupperware in there. I think this is hilarious, although this morning I found him trying to store an XBox remote in there. He's figured out two toilet locks so far. He hasn't learned to flush. I put a sign on the bathroom door that reads "Please keep me closed" and chuckled to myself.

• I watched that stupid movie Marley and Me, and, while I dislike the film, I think that there are a few scenes where Jennifer Aniston does a very good impersonation of an over-it Mom who needs a facial and a housekeeper and some new duds and doesn't realize her husband really is trying to help. Misery loves company and it was a nice (in a weird way) reminder that there are plenty of others going through similar struggles, if you will.

• I reasssessed a mandatory trip to my Cambridge office headquarters and decided that, while I will desperately miss my family, it will be a chance to spend the night in a very nice hotel room all by myself. I packed my toe nail polish and running shoes and current read and started looking on the bright side. My boys will be fine.

• I watched that also pretty stupid show On the Road with Mario Batali and Gwenyth Paltrow (the one where they travel all over Spain). They go wine tasting and Gwennie gets pretty toasty during the middle of the day, then the camera crew films her and Mario driving back through the countryside all blissed out and exhausted. It reminded me of 10 lovely days Chris and I spent traveling through Tuscany and that feeling of getting boozy in the afternoon and Chris driving us back through the hills to our villa. I knew there was great food in the future, warm sunshine, and probably a nice nap. I never once had to play D.D. since one would be crazy to trust my driving on those roads. It was a wonderful--and looking back now, completely selfish (in the very best sense)--vacation and it got me thinking about a short trip (just the two of us) to Mexico or California, or maybe even the Williamsburg Inn. Not right away, but sometime soon.

What's Cool

I saw this done in another blog. I really enjoyed it and it got the old, creaky wheels turning, so I thought I would give it a shot. I've always loved it when they do this in fashion mags.

What is and isn't cool (right now) according to yours truly:

Nicky is cool

Nicky's new fall/winter threads are cool

Getting things on the cheap cheap is cool

Making frozen dinners out of a bag is uncool

Starting four books at once and finishing none of them is uncool

The wireless issues I'm having in my office are uncool

Nicky's cowboy Halloween costume is cool

The fact that Chris and I don't have Halloween costumes yet is uncool

An overnight business trip in Boston this week is both cool and uncool (depending on my mood)

Speaking of my mood, my poopy mood is very uncool

The Boda Bean is always very cool

Bathtime with Nicky is cool

Pacifiers are both cool and uncool

Coming up with decorating and furnishing ideas for the new house is cool

Financing those ideas and putting in the elbow grease is uncool

Getting into Jamestown free because you're local is cool

Being a local is cool

Bickering with your husband is uncool (see poopy mood)

Waking up at 5:30 a.m. is pretty uncool

Changing leaves are really cool

Cider and mulling spices are cool

Pumpkin crumble with vanilla ice cream is cool

Barley soups are cool

Getting asked if you want a car wash after pumping gas, after not noticing the on-site car wash, is very cool (don't mind if I do...)

The fact that our heat keeps switching from heat to cool on its own is uncool

MadMen is so cool

The large Japanese maple outside my home office window is cool

The state of my hair is uncool

Clogs are cool (to me) but uncool (I think) to most others

Going to bed early with tea and cookies and a good book is cool

Searching for the unidentifiable stink in your big ole crossover vehicle is uncool

Finding that stink (eeew old bottle) is even more uncool

Taking riding lessons again is cool

Neverending laundry and dishes are uncool

Nicky's budding literary appreciation is so cool

Procrastination is uncool, and on that note...

Sick Day

My little man was sick today and in desperate need of his mama, so I took the day off to hang with him. Luckily, deadlines and my boss were wonderfully accomodating. It was a great reminder of the incredible flexibility I have in my position. I work for fellow parents--and great people--in a role that allows me, for the most part, to work exclusively from home and be very available to my son. There are some busy weeks and months, but they are tempered by plenty of low-key days.

This comes at a time when I am in near constant emotional flux about my decision to be a working mother. Yesterday was especially hard. I cried myself the entire 20-minute drive from daycare to the doctor's office after picking up my forlorn, fevered little baby (he slept the whole way). He was so visibly sick--the worst I've ever seen--that I kept asking myself how I could have ever dropped him off that morning (weren't his eyes clear? hadn't his congestion improved? wasn't his color good?). They had told me he had been crying "Momma" for an hour. How terrible.

Yesterday and today I was reminded over and over of my model for motherhood--my own biological mother. Though not without faults, my mother is an incredible caregiver. And sick days were her specialty. I cannot remember ever being sent to school sick. I have many memories, though, of telling her I didn't feel well and being ushered back to bed with cinnamon toast and Earl Grey tea (with honey, of course). We stayed in PJs till who-knows-when and ate Lipton noodle soup and more toast and more tea for lunch. I don't remember much more of those days, other than I loved them. In all of my memories, it is chilly enough to relish the warmth of the hardwood stove, to wear footed pajamas, and sip endless tea and eat soup. In my mind's eye, she is always at the foot of the couch--at my feet--and I am covered in a blanket from shoulder to toe. I remember Ferris Buller's Day Off and Daffy Duck.

Someone told me recently that, because I don't have a model for a working mother--mine was the quitessential stay-at-home mom (my Easter baskets had REAL GRASS for chrissake), I am currently making my own model. Right now, it feels very difficult. Today I tried to recreate some of Mom's magic for the first of Nicky's many sick days--first, I took off work (which is instant magic), then we snugglebugged till 7:15 (after Nicky woke up at his usual 6 a.m.), we stayed in our jammies for a good long while, then just did what made us happy. This turned out to be rearranging all our Tupperware (his idea, and his new arrangement), and a couple fresh air walks with Miss Boda Bean, our devoted 8-year-old Black Lab.

In deciding what's important for this new model, family dinners are also my, and my husband's, priority right now. I refuse to raise a child who grabs a ham and cheese sandwich and a bag of fritos off the counter and calls it dinner because Mom's too busy. That will not be my life--or Nicky's. But maybe I'll buy the plastic green stuff for his Easter basket. He won't know what he's missing.

Introduction

So, I'm finally trying out this blog thing. I read--rather, rely--on so many blogs lately that I thought it was high time I started relying on myself for some entertainment. I have mixed feelings about blogging, so we'll see how this goes!

There have been many changes in my life recently, not counting this new blog. In early July, my family moved to a beautiful home in Williamsburg, Virginia. In addition to deciding on where to hang the pictures and scatter the rugs, I am learning where to shop for everything from groceries to paint to clothes, learning where to spend our family time, learning the best routes to and fro--just learning our new neighborhood in general. After a few months of renovations and unpacking and daycare changes, we're finally putting our roots down here and getting into a routine. As a homebody, I'm relishing this digging in. I imagine this will be the focus of many a post.

A little bit about myself before we go any further: I am mother (that's my adorable son in the picture), wife, daughter, sister, friend, writer, and cook, to name a few of my many roles. I'm going to try to post daily, but I'm not very good about meeting nonessential deadlines lately.

Thanks for reading...