Where Has the Week Gone?

Tomorrow is, get this, FRIDAY. Cue a chorus of angels. To everyone I've spoken with today I've mused about how this has been such a quick week, hasn't it flown, yes, where has the week gone? After putting Nicky down to bed, though, I realized it hasn't exactly flown by. Even weeks like these, weeks that seem to "fly by" instead of drudge on (is drudge a word, or is it a verb?), have plenty of life in them.

Monday night I met with two of my oldest friends for a 4-hour dinner. We laughed till we cried numerous times, we nearly cried several others. We gasped a collective gasp when my husband called at 10:30 to see if I was okay. I don't have many times like those anymore, times when the time gets completely lost.

Tuesday. Mom for dinner. Nicky was in a great mood. We shared with Ya-Ya our new game -- Nicky begs to listen to Weezer, then shakes his tail feathers (like a wild man) to "Pork and Beans." Long game of "catch a nudie" before his bath.

Wednesday. Morning doctor's appointment with Nicky. Third day of this downpour we're experiencing. I got all Jack Nicholson on a lady in the Target parking lot when she laid on her horn because I had my passenger side door open trying to buckle my toddler into his car seat while trying, unsuccessfully, to balance my huge golf umbrella between my chin and my shoulder. No, I didn't hit her car with my umbrella (or, amazingly, even think of doing that until now), but I did approach her car and ask her to roll down her window so we could discuss our conflict. She mouthed "Sorry, my window's broken." and drove off. Probably better for both of us. I should preface this with the fact that I had just waited inside for a prescription for Nicky for over 30 min. I forgot all of that when I cracked open Let the Great World Spin by Collum McCann. I am very excited about this one. The first chapter was breathtaking.

Today. Thursday. It's still pouring here. Really pouring. So much so that my husband is off to Lowe's to buy a part that attached to your garage door to prevent your garage from flooding. Because our garage is flooding. He's also going to buy a big squeegee. Which sounds like a fun thing to have. Today we went on a lunch date for french food and stopped by my favorite furniture consignment shop and scored big time. We picked up an awesome bird cage, this wire organizer for the utility room that I've been coveting from Sundance magazine, and a new couch and chair set for the den for the price we had planned on paying for the one chair we needed. Chris is an incredible negotiator. He saved us hundreds. To pay him back I made Thai chicken and basil stir fry for dinner. I still got it in the kitchen (at times).

Tomorrow I hope to finagle a date night to go see The Social Network with my husband. Saturday we're apple picking in Charlottesville. Sunday Nicky has a play date with a new friend from school. So things are both ordinary and unordinary here, up and down and up again, but certainly never boring.

BAM!

No, I'm not having an Emeril Lagasse moment or reviewing his 25th cookbook. I mean Bam! as in Bam! All of the sudden I'm feeling sooo pregnant. And it's sooo close. And he's moving soooo much. And I'm soooo excited. In no time at all I will be snuggling and swaddling a second baby boy. I  just can't wait to meet him!

And now my brain, which heretofore has been consumed with other matters, is swimming with thoughts of nursery paint and crib bedding. And other thoughts, too, like pushing Nicky in the stroller while wearing a sleeping Jack on my chest. And my husband walking our local streets in a year or so, arms full of wriggling, giggling little boy bodies. And tree houses brimming with wild imaginations and scrapped knees and sweaty little boy foreheads. Let the fun begin!

My Life List (A Start)

Have I told you that I'm a sucker for lists? There are a variety reasons for this attraction, not the least of which that it offers a relatively private and busy person such as myself the opportunity to share in a rather benign and efficient way. I'm also a technical writer by trade, and lists are basically my best friend (they're clear, they're effective, they're concise). Anywhoo ... I've seen this list on several blogs I read lately and I thought I would give it a go (since I love lists). The list should ulitmately include 100 items (or more) and its intended to be a work in progress. This is a mish-mash of both near- and long-term goals and things that are planned and just occurred to me during this listing exercise. It does not include sweeping, general goals like "raise confident and inspiring individuals"; these are small, measurable things I would like to do, see, or accomplish. And it's in no particular order.

1. Take a first sans-children vacation with my husband (already scheduled for this November!)
2. Get back into running regularly and take morning runs through the colonial area
3. Allow myself the time to get really, really into gardening
4. Start an herb garden in our yard
5. Move to a reduced work week
6. Vacation in Maui
7. Take a barge tour of England with my family for my father's 70th birthday
8. Summer (2 weeks minimum) in a cottage in the Columbia River Gorge
9. Return to Lucca for a least a week with my husband (the kids can come ;))
10. Columbia River rafting trip with my family
11. Take annual ski trips with my family
12. Spend a week skiing in Kitzbuhel, Austria with the kids around the Christmas holidays
13. Gift my husband with flying lessons
14. Redo our bathrooms
15. Total kitchen makeover
16. Master another language
17. Return to Vienna with our children
18. Really commit myself to yoga practice
19. Have more children
20. Learn to knit
21. Spend a week in a cottage in Maine (scheduled for this April!)
22. Write a book loosely based on my grandmother's life
23. Become a better, effortless baker
24. Create a family reading space on the upstairs landing
25. Volunteer more and really commit myself to a cause
26. Part-time job with the Guild House local interior decorators to see if I like it as much as I think I would
27. Get a brazilian blowout (this is a very near-term, very desirable goal)
28. Make my home office a truly inspiring place with my books, painted walls, art, etc.
29. Get on a monthly facial regimine
30. Take a dog-sledding vacation in Alaska and fall asleep under the Aurora Borealis
31. Take a summer family vacation in Alaska
32. Take my kids to Disney World while they're still young enough to believe it's all real
33. Things to do again in Seattle: romantic dinner at the Brooklyn, that band thing at the EMP museum with the kids, see the Pikes Place fish market with Nicky and watch him giggle
34. Return to Paris with my husband
35. Austrailian vacation
36. Make a quilt
37. Charter a sailboat in Greece
38. Learn how to fly fish
39. Take our kids backpacking to "our spot" at Sugar Hollow
40. Take Nicky apple picking (this fall)
41. Complete my master's degree
42. Sign up for a CSA this year
43. Learn to scuba dive with husband and take a trip to Belize
44. Always read the books my children are reading
45. Read the Judy Blume Super Fudge series with my kids
46. My reading list (of course)
47. Make my mom great from-scratch strawberry shortcake
48. Can home-grown tomatoes
49. Camp in Zion National Park and Yellowstone
50. Return to New Mexico with my husband

What You'll Learn From the Boda Bean

In desperate need of some humor (a week of sick toddlerness, a conference call currently at 6 hours and counting), I have decided to continue these installments. I give you not what my children will learn from me (which could be equally funny if I gave it a real go), but what they will learn from Boda (a.k.a. the Boda Bean, the Bean, or Bo-Bo). To know her is to love her and all her idosyncracies. She was our dog for 7 years before we had Nicky, but now I'm sure she defines herself as Nicky's dog. When Jack arrives, she will happily become Nicky and Jack's doggie, the boys' doggie, because she was born to be a dog with kids. Call her what you will, she's one in a million.

What You'll Learn From the Boda Bean (A List)

1. How to hold your pee-pee poo-poo for up to 8 hours. Doctors don't recommend this, but your mother really appreciates it and thinks it could be very handy on car trips up north.
2. How to love unconditionally. Lose your temper? Say the wrong thing? Fail a test? Something in your teeth? She cares not. And she always wants a hug.
3. The art of the snuggle. Any time at all. And there is none better.
4. How to love the beach. How to love the sand, the water, the smells, the sticks, the ticks ... note: if you love the beach with an enthusiasm that matches the Bean's, we will only have the energy to take you a couple times a year.
5. How to just be. Want to learn how to lie on a bed for 8 hours without so much as fluttering an eyelid? Take lessons from Bo-Bo.
6. How to get what you want. Never stop whining. Don't relent. Keep your own interests in mind. And you thought that was something you'd learn from mom.
7. If they're not your toys, don't touch 'em. Valuable lesson.
8. Don't let the neighbors' kids put a leash on you. Trust her.
9. Don't trust the vaccuum. And move all your toys when mom's ready to use it.
10. Never eat out of reflective bowls. We just have to take her word for this.
11. Survey the scene. Be cautious. Anticipate danger at every turn (except at the beach). You don't have to take to her level, but a little caution never hurts.
12. Don't stick your head out the window of a moving car. Your head could obviously get knocked off. She is one of the only dogs to recognize this.
13. Don't eat alone. Especially if you have a weight problem.

We, Not Me

Last night a friend asked me how many children I Chris and I want, to which I answered "three to four ... depending on, you know, a lot of variables." We briefly discussed the variables, which include my sanity after being the mother of two, our finances, everyone's health, etc., etc. "Three to four" is our standard answer these days, though I know we both lean toward four but don't want to be greedy. We were blessed enough to have one healthy, amazing son who grows more and more engaging and miraculous by the hour, and the older he gets, the larger we want to grow this family. So far, I've had very routine, enjoyable pregnancies and one easy labor (fingers crossed for a second), and life in general is extremely comfortable and easy (for lack of a better word, for surely there is one) for us. We are rooted where we are and in what we do and we have lots of support. Why not ride this child-bearing wave as far as it takes us?

But as said conversation with friend and a recent post of one of my favorite blogs reminded me, more lips to kiss and the fact that I don't have trouble shedding the baby weight are not the only reasons we'd like to have a large brood. Both Chris and I are family people, something I think we recognized in one another very early on. Unlike many guys you date in college, he couldn't wait to meet my parents or to introduce me to his family. I felt the same.

Personally, I am the product of one-of-five and one-of-six, and I have so many wonderful aunts and uncles and cousins. Growing up, all you had to do was invite family over for dinner and it was an insta-party. When I think family, I think big. As I was reminded by the blog post I mentioned, I think we instead of me. If there's a problem, there's a network of people to consider it and weigh options and share burdens. When there's a birth or a wedding or a graduation, there's a flock waiting to share in it. At some level, I guess out of numbers comes occasional drama and factioning, but in my 30 years all I really remember is that we've solved our problems as a family.

In a recent article in Harper's Bazaar Julia Roberts brought me to tears by recognizing that once you're a parent, you think much more often about your own mortality. You produce these wonderful little people and you want to spend a thousand million years growing and sharing and celebrating with them, but you're actuely aware your time is finite. I never want my kids to be in it alone. I want to give them a network, and so I want to give them numbers. And seriously, look at that picture, they are so damn cute.

What You'll Learn From Dad

Since I had Nicky, and really since I was pregnant with Nicky, I think a lot about what he'll learn from Chris and me. Sometimes I worry I'll impart too much focus on perfection or my high frustration level, but I smile when I consider that I'll teach him to have a fridge full cold cuts and a freezer stocked with bagels to greet guests (like my mother taught me). Or that every day should end with a good book, and sometimes start with one, too. It's an interesting and somewhat intimidating thing to consider: the influence you have on your children.

In just under 6 months we'll have two little boys. Will I think about this even more with Jack's arrival? Probably not, I'll be too busy. I'll be thinking in the moment, and most often thinking "coffee" or "diaper" or some other necessary thought for daily survival. So, I've decided to pen these thoughts down now while I have the time, while my spoiled little evenings can still consist of Project Runway and painting my toes and my nails and drinking decaf chai. These days are fleeting. I'm starting with what I know (to be clear, not what I hope) they'll learn from their daddy. Because these are the things he's taught me.

What You'll Learn From Dad (A List)

1. Buy your lady flowers just because, even after 12 years.  
2. If you love someone, tell them. Often.
3. There is nothing more important than family and friends.
4. If you think someone's beautiful, tell them. Often. Say "Good morning, beautiful" when you see them and you're almost sure to get your way.
5. Capture your memories on camera, on video. Never stop taking pictures of your kids.
6. Cooking someone a memorable meal and hosting them in your home is how you tell them you love them.
7. Hold the door.
8. Real men cook.
9. Say "bless you" when someone sneezes.
10. The effort is more important than the outcome.
11. Your father is always incredibly proud of you.
12. Never be too embarrassed to tell your wife how much you love her, no matter who's around.
13. Be an excellent provider. 
14. Never stop counting your blessings.
15. Life is a party.
16. It's not a party until there's music.
17. Real men do laundry.
18. It really doesn't matter what you wear. But it never hurts to look good, and it doesn't take very long.
19. Pull out the chair for ladies.
20. It's okay to cry.
21. Buy your wife jewelry when she doesn't expect it.
22. Make vacations a priority.
23. Your door is always open.
24. Serve women first.
25. Families include at least one canine. Canine gets to sleep on the bed.
26. Salt your meat as early as possible before cooking.
27. At least five excellent breakfast menus.
28. How to cook Brussels sprouts so everyone will love them.
29. Let people know you're there to help if they need you.
30. Learning to play the acoustic guitar will help you get dates. Both before and after you're married.
31. Soak white fish in milk before cooking. It eliminates any fishy taste.
32. Take your wife on dates and make sure you both get dressed up.
33. How to make the ultimate roast chicken and meatballs.
34. How to ride a bike, throw a frisbee, play catch, set up a tent, and start a campfire.
35. You are the coolest, most beautiful person in the world. Your father loves you more than the moon and the stars. More than anyone could ever imagine.

One In Her & One On Her

Does the title sound a little crude? Sorry. It's not what you think. It's from an interview with Dolly Parton on Fresh Air this afternoon. It's still not what you think. She was referring to her life growing up and how her mother was kind of all over the place because for 10 years she had "one in her and one on her," one as in children.

(An aside: Is there anything better than Dolly Parton? If you don't completely agree, then you need to listen to this interview. I grew up idolizing Dolly and all her glitz. I think Jolene is easily one of the best songs ever written, and Smoky Mountain Christmas is my favorite piece of holiday kitsch. If the glitz and the voice and Smoky Mountain Christmas weren't enough, she is just downright fabulous in that interview. You really should listen.)

Anyway, back to Dolly's mom. That comment hit a nerve. Nicky and I had a great weekend (my husband took a brief and long overdue trip out to see his brother's family in Oregon) and he was so stinking cute, but he was also very, very much clingy and over the top in love with me. I told my husband that I think Nicky assumes that I am growing my belly to make room for him to get back in. Now, I love sloppy kisses and hugs around the neck and hugs around the knees and funny little toddler questions whispered in my ear, but was also pretty much exhausted at the end of each day. When I finally had a chance to lie down in the evenings, my little man Jack would start in on a series of beginner acrobatics. I had forgotten how wonderful it feels, but at the same time, by around 3:30 p.m. today, precisely when I found myself listening to Dolly's peppy little answers on public radio, I felt ... bedraggled. Tired. A little huge. I felt like a big old tired house on wheels. While lugging Nicky around Target because he refused to sit in the cart, I felt like a tired old house of a woman with "one in her and one on her," because that's literally what I was. 

Back at the ranch, while Nicky drove Matchbox cars all over my belly and legs and asked me 30 or more times, "what you doin' mommy?," I reminded myself that I will no longer be 5 months pregnant when I have two kids (but I will have two kids!) and I will have more energy (even without sleep?) and my husband will be home (but don't forget his weekly business travel!). Okay, so maybe I'm freaking out a little bit.

But one thing's for sure, I know every tired, harried, crazy, fat moment of it will be totally, unbelievably worth it. I love my son. Did I mention that?