and sometimes it's really hard

And that's okay. Because a full life wouldn't be full if it was sometimes hard. Or something like that. One of the big bad challenges I've been dealt is the curse of the over-doer. I have always done too much, tried to put too much into one day, be too many things for too many people. About halfway through teaching my yoga class yesterday after an already excruciatingly long day involving a transitioning toddler and her meltdowns and her first time ever, Go away, Mommy! I don't like you! I just want to stay here by myself, a nursing baby and his needs, 40 brilliant children and their ideas and collective need to be heard, a beautiful husband and his desire to fix, and...the kicker...a freaking enormous batch of crabapple jelly that didn't set...I hit my wall. And with that wall came lots of tears that had no where to go but out so they came and came and came. Because sometimes a nursing mama who's hair is falling out just needs to cry. And I have to assume that I'm not the only mama who sometimes just feels so damn spent and frustrated. It is so constant. There is always so much to do. And I want to do it all well. I'm kinda getting off on trying to do it all well.

My nanny friend asked me today, Are you type A?

I had to laugh. Anyone who knows me at all would know that I'm not at all type A. I wish I were more type A. I'm taking lessons in type A. I'm trying out for the type A talent show and kinda in the running until my jelly doesn't set and I have twelve cups of crabapple syrup and I just can't shake how pissed I am. Sometimes you have to write things down to realize how ridiculous they are.

So when the tears returned this morning, I called my girl. And she talked me down. And later delivered a People magazine and a peanut butter cookie. Cuz that's all I really need to get a bit of perspective. Just ten minutes of something totally meaningless like photos from Beyonce and Jay Z's trip to Italy. Because sometimes it all feels like so much. It's all so important and so deep and so imperative and so beautiful and strong and scary and rich and I have visions where I trip on the stairs to the laundry room and Solomon flies from my arms and hits the concrete wall and I wonder if I'm totally psychotic and then I remember I'm just a mom who loves her children so fucking fiercely. And it's scary. And I love this life. I love intensity. I love people. I have to go to the dark side sometimes to bring more sense to it all. Cuz this is all I needed. Enough time to drink one glass of wine and eat one chocolate kiss and purge it all on this silly blog. Enough time so that I don't fall asleep and wake up with someone attached to my body. Enough time to brush my teeth before bed, not just conk out with the serial nurser at 8:45, my body too spent to get up from the bed.

I have to say. I love this blog. Would it be the same if I were writing this all in my journal? Maybe. The cathartic value would be the same. But the satisfaction of knowing that one person might actually read this and get me, that's huge. Because I need to be got. So there it is. Sometimes it's really hard. But it's always really, really good. As in tremendous. And huge. And remarkable. And vibrant. And now.

our fall

We made it through the first week of school! I couldn't really reflect while I was in it because it all felt so big and full and topsy turvy. But here we are on week two, day two, and it seems we're kinda catching the groove. I love working part time. It gives me time to use my brain in a sort of organized, focused way and be out in the world. The flexibility that living so close gives me is awesome. Sometimes life offers you little gifts. Not sending Solomon to daycare is one of those little gifts. Having him at home is an excellent way to spend our hard earned cash.

Speaking of earning cash, I am so proud of my hubby in his new role. He is taking his jobs as father, teacher, husband, and administrator all so seriously. He celebrated a birthday on Friday.


After a last minute babysitter bail (what is this trend?) we were able to find someone in a pinch who would watch a whole posse of toddlers. That let us have a triple date with two of our couple BFF's and the babes. We so rarely go out, let alone out with our friends who have children. It was perfect. We came home to four toddlers in jammies, popsicle sticks strewn about, toys everywhere. I love our village.

It was a true village weekend. The sun was bright and the mountains clear. Everyone was downtown celebrating this glorious fall and I felt so thankful to be a part of it all. Festivals abound in this town and I'm quite certain there is no such thing as too much facepaint or live music or free empanadas.




Back on the homefront, brother is making tremendous changes. He is attempting to find his voice in our loud home.

Sometimes while he can't be heard, he can be seen. He flips his body around on the colored playmat, kicks and splashes like a banshee in the bath and eats rice cereal like a champ.


I have a sense that while Eliana is my auditory learner, brother may be my kinesthetic one. Watch out.

And while he's decided that he needs to nurse for like two hours before he'll settle into a five or six hour bout of nighttime sleep, I'm deciding that it's just his thing. The same way I used to rock Eliana for hours and sing her show tunes, brother likes a dimly lit room and lots and lots of boob time. It forces me to slow down, and even affords me some reading time. I'm not going to worry about where he'll go when he outgrows his bassinet. This is the routine right now. The goal is staying focused on each bit of the day, being wholly present in all the in's and out's.

school girl

Eliana rocked her first day of school. She looked so gorgeous in the dress Casey made for her. She had very little separation anxiety (just one, Mama will you stay in my classroom all day with me?) and then the classic report (We didn't paint, we didn't play with clay but we DID go on the playground and I fell in the wood chips and I was sad and I wanted you but then Adriana made it all better and I got up). So there. We just have to keep getting up.


The day was full, full, full -- a preview of the next ten months. I imagine I will get much better at taking deep breaths (and I'm already pretty good). The day was a shuffle of roles -- from mom to teacher to mom to teacher to mom. Thank goodness I live so close to the school or this little dance would never work out. Jeff and I sacked out at 10:00. This is a good thing considering Solomon needed me to nurse his back to school cough for lengthy sessions throughout the night. It's 9:32 in the morning, and I feel like I've already had a full day. My feet are already up. And I haven't even been to my paying job. Woah. Bienvenidos a el otono!

growing up

Our little posse is growing up. Brother Bear turned four months old on Friday and is wowing the rest of us with his changes. He's super chatty; this is a good thing in a family where it's hard to get a word in edgewise, especially with Happy Sad as a sister. She and he are starting to interact more. Happy loves to bring him special toys and babies.


She pushes him in the swing and the stroller and loves to set herself up for him to grab her hair. She then promptly says, Mom! Baby Brother grabbed my hair! with her best actress voice, all full of kid like tattletale tone. Luckily she keeps the smile on her face. We both know she's kinda kidding.


She is growing up in so many ways. While she continues to have her Sad moments, she is getting more advanced at articulating the source of her discontent. Like the other day when I asked her to stop jumping on the bed so close to brother's head she said, No! You can't talk to me that way. You have to go back in Gran's belly now. Alright then.

We also have a new game we play with incredible frequency. She's Galinda and I'm Elphaba and we are two characters based on the show Wicked. She's learned some of the songs (anything, anything to get us moved on from, "Free to Be You and Me"...) because I figured all the dialogue and melodrama would appeal to her. You betcha. But now she says things to me like, Elphie, now that we're friends, I'm going to teach you how to be popular. How do I explain that one to the preschool teacher?

And speaking of preschool, HomeSlice hits the books tomorrow. She is so ready. And I've been saying I'm so ready too, but the whole pacakage kinda hit me today. She's gonna be in school full time for the next forever. I'm gonna be back at work. Sol's gonna be buckin' the bottle. Dad's gonna be the new BMOC.

My emotions were all over the place today. One second I was in full on teacher mode, ready with cool, creative ideas and back-to-school zeal. The next I was squeezing Elie way too tight, telling her proud I was of how she's growing up. Then I was on my belly head to head with little man, watching him flip himself over and scoot around like he's working the trenches in 'Nam. I would lean in to kiss the meaty apple of his cheek, his big, gummy grin beaming right back. He's my big, happy, handsome boy. I can't get enough.

Our little unit opted for a staycation this weekend. We toyed with going away to the hot springs but after we realized how hard it was for us to pack everything just to get a mile up the road to the snazzy new park, we opted to stay local and hit the hot tub instead. Jeff's folks have been away since May and we haven't been up to their pad all summer. It was just what the doctor ordered. Time away from the piles of laundry and dust bunnies of our tiny abode. The planner books and back-to-school to do lists. Instead we just settled into a beauteous view and an empty fridge. The purpose excuse to go out to dinner. To not make any more mess.

Perhaps the greatest gift of my weekend was that Jeff decided to do the Costco/REI errand blech trip for me. Which meant I had all day Saturday with my children. And when Happy napped, brother and I had some awesome q.t. together. He loved the hot tub and tripped hard on the steam and bubbles. Then we found Elie's old jumpy thang and hooked it up. He is turning into such an expressive little guy and he loved floating and landing, spinning and swaying.


Then Brother napped and Happy and I played. She too loved the hot tub and is fearless in the water.


Later we watched a bit of The Sound of Music which happened to be on TV. I got all teary as we watched Maria run through the hills with the children, the silly sentiment of sharing her first view of this beautiful movie that was such a part of my childhood.

The whole scene reminded me of weekends when I was young. Hilary and I would play in the pool and spa. We'd then loaf around on my parent's bed and watch whatever old movies happened to be on cable. I realized yesterday that this is all I've really ever wanted. To be totally happy with my family. Two beautiful children. A husband who's the coolest. A beautiful view and clean air. It sounds so simple, but the whole weekend had this sort of serendipitous feeling, this special sparkle. I felt so supremely blessed to be in that gorgeous home with those three gorgeous humans. And one goofy dog. And my new, sassy haircut.

Tomorrow the kids arrive. Elie has her first day of school. Her lunch is all made and waiting for her in the fridge. We've talked about the routine of the day multiple times -- probably more for my sake than hers. Solomon will hang tough with his buddy and continue to explore his place in the world. We'll work hard and love hard and anticipate another weekend of regeneration time. Grow into our new flow.

in it

We are officially in it. Fall has begun. Solomon had his first day away from his mama with his new nanny. Eliana had an extended play date with her fourteen year old BFF. They both awoke way too early. I'm pretty certain they picked up on my anxiety about it all. Eliana's first words this morning: But I don't want you to go to work, Mama!

Jeff, being the stupendous papa that he is, packed up his big, old climbing pack for Eliana's day. He made her a sandwich and cut it into four squares. He packed a spare set of clothes (which proved to be a very good thing...) and lots of books and games. After she was all set to go, he expanded on the letter I had begun for Solomon's nanny. He added a whole section on bottle feeding. He then pasted more information from a web page with more feeding tips. Rock star dad.

While he was busy getting them ready, I was drinking a glass of my new favorite Pinot at Scotty's, Solomon happily snuggled against my chest. We were having our last hurrah and it involved spinach salad and wine with old friends. I felt so proud as I watched them pass him around the booth. He smiled and they oohed. It was a perfect last night of summer.

But he wasn't that congenial, consolable little guy today. Apparently he was pretty damn upset without his mama. Aimee said she tried everything. He wouldn't take the bottle. He wouldn't settle. Even in the Ergo. Even when she sang and bopped.

But eventually, of course, he did. And that's where going through it the second time helps. Cuz even though I cried as I nursed him this morning, I pulled it together pretty quickly because I knew that all we had to do was get through this day. This would be the longest, the hardest, the day with the most unknowns. Perspective shifts a bit when you are going through something a second time.

I walked around the corner at 7:58, mug of coffee in hand, canvas bag with my teacher stuff ready to rock. The first person I saw was one of my favorite colleagues. Her eyes were red and puffy and she was hugging the art teacher. She had to leave her one year old. She returns to work full time this year. We hugged and my tears came back.

But it didn't really matter. No one was hiding anything. There are a lot of new mamas at the school and we band together and get each other. It's really a beautiful thing. No one was pretending it was easy. And we sat through our meetings and shared our ideas and sipped our coffee. When it was time to break for lunch I raced back around the corner at lightening speed. Aimee had managed to get him down. My breasts instantly expelled ten ounces of milk. I inhaled yogurt and cottage cheese because I clearly needed to replenish my dairy supply.

Jeff woke up Soli and gave him a bottle while I pumped. I then let Aimee hold him while I talked to him. His big blue eyes bulged from his head as if to say, what the hell is going on mama? Who is this woman and why the hell is she holding me instead of you?

But he was safe. And healthy. And still his perfect little manly self.

I returned to work lighter. Stronger. We're in it and we're all gonna be just fine.

the last days of disco

For whatever reason this phrase keeps coming into my mind. The last days of disco. The last hot summer with a teeny baby. Long, stinky afternoons beneath the mountain ash, nursings in the shade. This little groove we've been rockin' is about to shift. Turn into weird early 80's electronic musings. A kiddo in school all day. A mama back at her paying job. A little man who gets to hang with the hottest nanny this side of the ol' Miss. Cuz daycare just wasn't meant to be. Not for someone so little. No when the lady bails two days before school starts. You get what you pay for. And sometimes the universe tells you to up the ante.



Part of our last hurrah involved a visit from my sister Wendy and E and S's eight year old cousin, Piper. They couldn't have come at a better time. Mid August was smoke free with perfect sunshine and the slightest of breezes. We explored in and around town. Thankfully, Piper loves the carousel as much as Eliana, so they were able to enjoy our little small town luxury to the hilt.


One of the best things about having family visit is it makes me feel like they actually see the life I've chosen. I've come so far from where I grew up. I never could have predicted this path we've found. Yet I adore my life, my town, my adopted state, my peeps here. Wendy and I were able to enjoy each other so fully in our few days together. That makes four of E and S's aunties here this summer. Four cousins. Three grandparents. Loads of friends. So many people who love us.


And it's not glamorous. It's not fancy. It's just us. It's real. It's beautiful. It's raw and loud and messy. Even today as I anticipated our buddies arrival from San Francisco - buddies without children - I tried, however valiantly, to de-kidify our home. I put the bottle in the fridge. Consolidated toys. Picked up ABC magnets. Put half eaten plastic plates of food down the drain instead of hoping they'd be finished later. And, really, I have no idea why. Our friends are curious about what really happens when real people have real children. I can show them what happens when people have children. And I'm quite certain they would say it all looks pretty cool. They'll be there soon enough.

It's just this glorious life.

Yet I still feel the ridiculous urge to tidy it all up. Make it look seamless. As if. As if we could even pretend that it wasn't enormous.

So here we are. The end of August. The last days of disco. Two children and their tremendous personalities. Possibilities. Our world overflowing with love. With the stuff that makes you see your life as a circle. A circle that glows and pulses. A circle that screams and cries happy tears. Helps you make connections. Remember how similar you really are to your roots. Sisters. So much love! These are your people! And then you make your own people. And the puzzle re-works itself. And it's so damn cool.

last monday

Today is our last Monday. Last Monday of vacation. Last Monday of summer. Last Monday of maternity leave. We checked out Solomon's daycare and as we walked out, I couldn't grasp that I wouldn't be spending the days with him. This time has just slipped away from me. When Soli went down for his afternoon nap, I stayed in the room with him. Held him like we used to back in the early days. He's such a big guy now. Holds his head up and pushes himself around on his belly. So strong. So full of smiles and goodness. My little guy.



I reflect on when I had to go back to work with Eliana. I had her Nana and PopPop here, so I never had to leave her with someone I didn't know. What a huge blessing that was. That's not the case this time around and I have to fill out paperwork explaining his schedules. I don't know his schedules. He doesn't need them. We're always together.


The air turned crisp tonight. Eliana finally declared that she's ready for her big girl bed. She picked out a shirt for the first day of pre-school. She's totally ready for this next step. I wish I shared her enthusiasm, though I know she and I would both go a bit batty if there wasn't a next thing to move into. But her brother is a different story. He is such my guy. Still so little. So needy for me. So perfectly innocent.


We have such an intense symbiotic love. One night on the camping trip I heard him crying from the tent. I raced down from the fire and ripped the tent zippers apart. It was dark and I couldn't find a flashlight. I scooped him up, fell back on my sleeping bag and held him above my head. His little head caught the moonlight coming in from the tent window. Upon recognizing me his tears instantly stopped and his sad little frown turned into a giant, Solomon smile. Just from that recognition. That hold. That light. It felt almost magical. My ability to make him happy. That's one of those moments I know I'll never forget.


So we move forward. And I know we'll find a new routine. I'll fall back into step. He'll find a new groove. But transitions have never been my thing. I need to give myself space to just be here.