8/20/07 Race Thru the Redwoods

An early start today! We dropped Julian and Katrina off at a sitter's house at 7:30am, then zoomed into the mountains with Gabriel.















The idea was that he might want to walk part of the 10K race, or do the whole Kids 1-mile race if we got there in time (it started earlier and we didn't), and that we'd have some time alone with him as a last hurrah before kindergarten. It didn't really work out that way. He was a bit of a pest, and also kept asking about going to a play structure. I think he was just bored. In retrospect, Julian would have enjoyed it more.

But I had a great time!

It was a beautiful course, mostly along dirt hiking trails and through redwood forests and along streams.

There was one steep uphill stretch, which, I knew from my Rancho experience, sounded pretty steep: a 300-foot climb in the space of a mile. And indeed, it was steep, but since I know what "steep" feels like and how to get through it, I liked it. I was surprised to see most of the runners ahead of me walking up the hill. I was determined not to walk, and puffed my way up the inclines. (Later Dave overheard other runners commenting that if you only train flat, then those hills will kill you! Indeed, I can't imagine coming across that in a race if I never ran hills.)

Toward the top, I joked with a woman that I wasn't going to walk if it killed me -- and it was! She and I ended up running and talking together for the rest of the race until I sprinted the end. Later, when I saw the photos, I was shocked to see her RIGHT next to me at the start! (in the pink top, hat and sunglasses, in the photo of me hugging Gabriel).

After our little bunch was reunited and I'd had a short nap, it was back to family business. This afternoon I did a sadly-rare thing: sit in the backyard and just watch and play with Katrina. It's fun to hold her hands and help her stand, and watch her little face light up and make silly sounds. She always sticks a foot or two in the air while sitting down.

Why don't I do this all the time? This is the reward of child-raising, the low-key moments of just being together, enjoying each other purely. So why did I do it this afternoon then? Because, I think, I had a very fulfilling morning. I had a big challenge, I pushed my way through it, and glowed with a sense of accomplishment all day. I was ready for some downtime; my usual antsiness to Do Things was quelled. As a result, I was able to be a Good Mom for a while.

(That is, until a big blowup with Julian ruined it...after being warned twice not to hit a ball while Katrina was out there, I went to take the paddle away from him, and he threw the paddle and hit Katrina!)

This begs the question again: why the heck don't I go back to work? It's already proven from my 6-month stint in 2005: I'm a much better person, and hence, mom, when I'm feeling productive and like I'm learning and growing and overcoming obstacles. I've been semi-ribbed many times in my life about always choosing the hard route. There must be a reason for that. Without something to push against, to reach for, to climb over, to overcome, to achieve -- and the essential natural drug of succeeding -- that drive spreads itself across numerous trivial things, fizzling into caustic bits, never focusing and never being satisfied.

So why haven't I gone back to work? Or is it because of the challenges of child-rearing (and, apparently, contraception), that I continue with the full-time Mom gig? I don't think so, really....child-rearing challenges are ongoing, not nice neat events with a clear beginning and a clear ending and clear accomplishment. I guess I can unleash my full obsessive-compulsive energies onto the hapless professionals and tradespeople who will help us remodel our house. Which had better have a very clear ending!

After an overall nice day (except for the paddle incident with Julian), there was...tonight.

Maybe a new sign of an impending migraine is impatience. I really got mad at the boys tonight -- for good reason, as usual (and, as usual, related to pestering baby) -- but it turns so ugly that I end up hating myself and hating how I feel. Yes, Gabriel deserved a smack for not going upstairs when told, then hitting me when I approached him. Yes, Julian deserved to be picked up and thrown into his room when he screamed after being told several times to go upstairs to his room for taking things away from Katrina. But the shouting, the anger, the intensity....I hate it. It makes me cry to look at Katrina, feeling that she deserves a much better mother, and that I have to get it together in time for her toddlerdom, as she definitely takes after her ornery older brother. And the boys....I swing wildly between remorse, regret, dismay, then back to being instantly infuriated when they offend for the thousandth time.

I wish I could keep it together. It's much harder to stay calm (especially when you're being called "STUPID" in a shockingly venomous tone) but in the end, I'm a lot happier, and on the whole, they're more obedient too. I was on serious edge tonight, partly being tired from a poor night's sleep, an early start, and a tough run; but I also recognize the wary, ready-to-snap feeling too. Could a looming migraine add to my impatience with them? Incredibly, as awful, noisy, obnoxious, defiant and rude as they can be, they're one thing I know don't cause headaches.

Ah, but they're all in bed now, and it's quiet. Slowly, the good feelings from today's run through the mountain forest are taking over. I can still feel the dirt under my shoes and the cool air on my shoulders and the majesty of the redwoods.

8/19/07

p.s Race results are in! I placed 196 (out of 356), I was 15th out of 24 in my division (women 40-44), and I ran it in just over a 10-minute mile. A flat course and no chatting with other runners and I might break an hour. But what fun would that be?

      DIV PL                                                     PACE
PLACE /TOTAL   NAME                AGE S TOWN            TIME    /MILE
  196  15/24   NOEMI DOUDNA         43 F SUNNYVALE       1:02:44 10:06

8/18/07 Fast Dads

Julian asked me today, "Can Moms run faster than Dads?" I had him repeat the question a few times, to make sure I understood. "Are Moms faster than Dads?" he semi-clarified. Then, "Can all Dads run?"

Apparently, a kid at his day camp was picked up by a man who declined to get into a running game, citing his "old legs." This made a huge impression on Julian, prompting this inquiry into the running capability of Dads. Being fast is of great importance to the boys, who make wild boasts about their speed superiority.

"Can you run faster than Dad?"

"Well..," I said, "Dad might be able to run faster than me at first, but he can't run as far." He wasn't impressed.

Alas, the conversation was interrupted and opportunity to turn it into a "teaching moment" about physical fitness was lost. Old legs, indeed. Don't say stuff like that around my little sponge!

8/18/07

8/17/07 Show biz

Julian's daycamp had a little theatre performance today, in which small groups of kids acted out short nursery rhymes. Julian was a "king's man" from Humpty Dumpty.

Mostly, he stood looking dumbstruck. No burning desire to perform here.

Fortunately, the timing worked out well. I did have to wake Katrina from a nap to get to Julian's performance, but at least she conveniently took an early nap.

Then I brought her and Gabriel to the Y's Childwatch, where I fed her a ham-and-cheese sandwich, to the great surprise of the Childwatch ladies. What, no jar?

The boys were unbearable together this afternoon, so I made sure to "put" Julian down for a nap, for my own sanity. There was no way I could deal with them constantly shouting and running and making obnoxious sounds all afternoon. In fact, it turned into a relatively quiet afternoon, as Katrina took a good long afternoon nap. My goodness, it's so much easier to deal with baby life when I get just an extra hour "off" from a solid 2-hour nap instead of a so-so 1-hour nap!

While the younger two napped, Gabriel drew a bicycle with sidewalk chalk. He was very clear that it had exactly ONE disk brake on the FRONT wheel ONLY.

One thing about having 3 kids: you just never know when they're all going to need something from you at the same time. I went upstairs to get Katrina after her nap, but heard Julian crying, and found this.

Not only did he have a bloody nose, but his attempt to nap without a Pull-Up failed, and he and all his bedding and stuffed animals were soaked in pee and blood. Meantime, Katrina was crying and wanted out, and Gabriel was bouncing around trying to draw Julian into a game of bathroom talk shouted at the top of their lungs.

So, here's what moms of 3 do. One thing at a time. Separate your hazards. It's really no different than what moms of one or two or four or five do.

Send Gabriel downstairs.
Strip Julian.
Start bath.
Strip Julian's bed.
Start washer.
Rescue baby.
Try to keep track of baby as she takes off giggling, while simultaneously reminding Gabriel to stay downstairs, and trying to tend to Julian.

(Note that there is no gate at the top of the steps right now.)

I really try hard to be a good wife and partner and really listen to Dave and be sympathetic to the trials and tribulations in his life. But boy it's hard when he says that things at work are "disruptive and chaotic" right now because his manager is leaving. Oh! Yeah! That's chaotic all right! I just have to remember what "chaos" means to most people. Recalibrate.

Boys at sleepover tonight, they were both looking forward to it. And so was I, though they were both being very good, sweet and downright fun as we were on our way. No fair giving them to someone else for the night when they're being so good!

8/17/07

8/16/07 Mom's brush with CPS

Julian's half-day-daycamp makes for a situation that will one day be commonplace with 3 kids: all three kids go to a different place in the morning. Scramble scramble!

I made the most of my last all-child-free day and went running, deliberately taking my longest route. I made it a little longer, hoping to break 8 miles, but I fell short by 2/10 of a mile. Still, I did climb over 1000 feet. Longer, steeper...yet still easier than last week's wipeout run, since today I didn't have a headache.

After picking up a salad at TJs and making a few East-coast phone calls, still in my sweaty running clothes, I was ready to reward myself with a long, hot bath. Up to my neck in water, jets blasting, mind free-roaming, body relaxed, spirit at peace....ahhhh. This is the life. Peel me a grape. I mused idly about Julian's little theatre performance tomorrow at his dayca...JULIAN!!!!!!!

....OH NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

>>> JULIAN <<< !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was supposed to pick him up from daycamp by 1:00!!!!!!!

OHHHHH SH***********T !!!!!! What the hell time is it?!!?!?!

I sprung out of the bath and dashed into the bedroom, newly outraged at the lack of timepiece in the bathroom.

1:02. Jesus!!!

You've never seen a faster get-ready. Hair in towel. Clothes, 4 items, grab top of stack for each. Towel on floor. Me on floor (note to self: our wood floors are slippery when wet). Extra 4 seconds to put on sandals instead of slip-ons, so I can RUN LIKE ALL GET-OUT DOWN THE STAIRS THROUGH THE KITCHEN ACROSS THE DINING ROOM OUTSIDE TO PORCH....front door didn't close, too bad....dash into car....stupid seatbelt auto-retractor won't let me pull out the seatbelt fast enough....

1:04. ZOOM!!! Call the Y from the car -- I'M COMING!!!! Don't call Child Protective Services!

1:06. Call Tonya from the car: WE'RE COMING!!!!!!! Catch an unprecedented three green lights on the way.

1:08. Anxiously drive safe speed into Y parking lot, still screech tires into parking spot, jump out of car, and sprint -- yes RUN (ironically! again! after almost 8 miles this morning!) inside.

There, I found Julian happily playing with a balloon with one of the camp counselors. I was there before my time estimate of 7 minutes. I like giving reliable estimates. Especially when I unreliably flake on picking up my 3-1/2-year-old boy in favor of lounging around in the jacuzzi!

They were grateful I'd called, and I made no excuses and flat-out admitted I was in the bath a few minutes ago after a long run this morning. Eeps. My honesty didn't win me any new friends or gold stars.

Julian seemed none the worse for wear, and was oblivious to the near-crisis as I feigned calmness on the way to Tonya's, where he's supposed to be all day today, but Good Mom sacrificed a pickup-free day so he could go to his "yummy" day camp. Bad Mom almost left him at day camp after it was over!

Close call. I was very lucky I remembered when I did. Picking him up at 1pm didn't cross my mind once this morning.

After retrieving the whole "Kat'n'Kaboodle" at 5pm, I kicked back into Mom mode. Moms know what I mean: simultaneously prepared dinner, fed baby, served boys hand and foot, wiped rear ends, answered questions, unlatched helmets, fetched writing utensils, meeting an endless stream of demands. The pace and intensity of Mom life stood in stark contrast to my day of relative relaxation (with one huge blip that is!).

I think the intensity has increased because my darling sweet innocent little baby is turning into a screechy, picky, fickle toddler. Ugh! "I want that NOW NO PUSH IT AWAY WAAHH I WANT IT NOW NO GETIT AWAY FROM ME GIVE IT TO ME GET IT AWAY FROM ME eeeeeEEEEEEEE!"

During this normal madness, I had an un-normal, and welcome, occasion to stop and laugh. The boys are reading the original Winnie-the-Pooh stories with Dave at bedtime, and seem to enjoy them, despite all the British terminology and archaic expressions and sometimes complex sentences.

Julian wanted to draw a Heffalump. And it went about like this:

Julian: I'm going to draw a Heffalump! (pause)....Mommy, what does a Heffalump look like?
Me: Ohhh, we don't know, do we? The story doesn't have a picture. You need to use your imagination.
Julian: I don't need my imagination. I need a picture!

You need more than that, kid. Like a Mom who doesn't forget to pick you up -- but who can go from soaking-wet-naked-in-bath to tearing-out-of-the-driveway in less than 2 minutes!

8/16/07

8/15/07 Old and new friends

What a treat! Today I got a call from my friend Tracy, visiting California from her new adopted home on the East Coast. Tracy and I made friends in dance class at Zohar in 1988 -- yes, that's almost >> 20 << years ago! We've been through so many phases of life since then; it's astounding that we ended up having children about the same age. Her daughter Elizabeth is 4-1/2.

Tracy and Elizabeth picked a perfect day to come over -- Julian and Katrina were here, but Gabriel was on a field trip (to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, cool!). Julian and Elizabeth wasted no time jumping into play. Tracy said usually playdates with a 3-1/2-year-old, especially a boy, for ultra-verbal uber-social Elizabeth don't amount to much, but Julian provided ample interaction, conversation and entertainment. And what a treat for Julian to have free play without bossy older brother around!

Tracy and I barely scratched the surface on catching up over brie, apples and plum cake. But running out of things to talk about was never a problem we had, even when we used to have lunch once a week. Then, we used to talk about men. Now, it's kids.

Julian apparently is now too ma-TOOR to give hugs on command anymore, so shyly gave Elizabeth a handshake goodbye instead.

As they were saying goodbye, Elizabeth said, "I'm sorry I don't live here, Julian!" Aww.

A nice afternoon with an old friend for me, a new friend for Julian.

8/15/07

8/14/07 The Gearhead

This morning, driving to and from Gabriel's swim lesson, he was filled with questions about how cars work, and in particular, the pickup in which we were.

How many pedals does this truck have?
What happens if you push both pedals at the same time?
Do you have a different pedal to go in reverse?
How many reverse gears does your car have?
Where does the exhaust come from?
Is there a driveshaft for every wheel?
Can you go in first gear on the highway?
What kind of brakes does this truck have?
How does the engine connect to the wheels?

And, comments, spoken with authority:

When I grow up, I'm going to have a disk brake -- on the front wheels.
This pickup truck has an automatic transmission.
When you push on the gas pedal, a flap puts more gas on the engine.
I hate clutches because of clutch chatter!

Clearly, he's been talking to Dad way, WAY too much.

Unfortunately for him, my knowledge of cars and engines is limited, and what I do know is restricted to carbureted horizonally-opposed twin engines in now-vintage BMW motorcycles. I make a conscious effort, however, to give him real answers, and not to introduce the stereotype that Moms don't know anything about cars. Even though it's mostly true.

After Gabriel's swim class, I spent much of my day "off" running errands I've been trying to do for a week, and some which I wouldn't dare do with children (like actually entering a bank and talking to a human).

I also went running this afternoon, a moderate route that included passing a lovely shaded bay tree grove. There I had an "ahhh" moment, like the whole world was at peace. It was so pretty in this little canyonway, with cool breezes in stark contrast to the hot and dry hilltops. I felt uplifted, strong, positive, optimistic as the trees and hills and fresh air and scurrying lizards revived me. I was headache-free today, and strength and power coursed through me as I tackled the hills and felt the sun on my skin.

Tonight, Katrina had exactly what the boys did for dinner: turkey burgers, creamed spinach, and rice. Except she ate more of it than they did.

After eating, she finishes off with a sippy-cup of water, which turns out to be a fun toy as well as a drinking vessel. And the wet tray makes great practice for future finger-paints.




I forgot to mention, yesterday after Katrina's swim class, in playtime sitting on the steps, she pulled herself up to a stand for the first time. No doubt the buoyancy helped, and the step was a perfect height for her. She's on her way!

8/14/07

8/13/07 Migraine musings

One of my favorite things about nursing is that it ensures I get some peaceful time alone with my baby a few times a day. Well, usually peaceful -- Katrina likes to beat on me and pull my hair with her free hand these days. But much of the time, I look down at my baby, happily nestled against me, and have a rare moment of feeling like I'm completely satisfying her, like there's nowhere else on earth she'd rather be. And it's during those moments that I ask myself what on earth I could not love about this life.

The past few days, I've been feeling pulled and put upon, frustrated that I can never follow an impulse and do something right as it comes to me. It's impossible to get momentum on even the smallest project. I'm rusty at basic concentration. Soon I feel like a blithering idiot, unable to piece two sentences together, confusing words, making spelling mistakes (and anyone who knows me knows that I DON'T make spelling mistakes). Inevitably, the frustration at my severely compromised intellect gets directed at my poor children.

But I've come to understand that much of the struggle to think through the fog comes from an outside force. A formidable foe, one with very obvious impact, but also with subtle insidious effects that I've sorely underestimated. And that force is the power of the evil migraine headache.

I've had what I know now to be migraine headaches since the 7th grade, but never in such frequency and so long-lasting as now. It seems that more than half my days since Katrina was about 3 months old are spent screaming in agony in my head. The pain makes it not only difficult to enjoy my children, but also makes it difficult to employ remedies to the inevitable unenjoyable things about them. It disturbs my sleep, makes it very difficult to achieve a sense of accomplishment, makes me slog through routines, dread the day.

And now, I see that it causes genuine depression.

I don't think I've ever had a depressive personality. Like most people, I've had really bad times in my life, but I developed coping strategies, worked through them and eventually pulled out. I don't go through cycles of depression; in general my type-A high-energy personality resists them.

But the burden of migraine headaches makes me vulnerable to depression, rendering my anti-bummer coping strategies almost impossible to execute. It weighs heavily on my psyche, making me negative and fearful and even bitter about my life.

It's funny, actually, that the psychologist headache doctor I saw had me fill out a questionnaire about stress factors in my life. He was clearly surprised -- disappointed -- to see that I'd rated most things in my life low-stress. No low-hanging fruit here. If a migraine mom of 3 young children doesn't rate her life high-stress, what do you say? "Getting my 3-year-old to wash his hands before dinner isn't stress," I explained, "It's annoying. Divorce or an ill parent, that's stress." He brushed off my "attitude of gratitude" (in his words) and probed to get me to complain, perking up when I mentioned remodeling -- oh boy, here's an easy one! But before he could finish making a note, I cut him off and explained that while remodeling, I was pregnant, and had no headaches. At a loss, he skimmed past this major clue and continued to read from the script: take more time for myself, sleep regularly, exercise, eat right. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks a lot.

If that's the best a headache-expert psychologist has to offer, then that convinces me that there's nothing to analyze here. I mean, hello -- NO migraines while remodeling pregnant??

Stress isn't causing my migraines. It's the other way around. The migraines, and the ensuing decreased ability to function, is what cause stress. And depression, and negative attitudes. I've heard it for years, but I still don't think my headaches have any psychological root cause. I think they're just plain old physical, but now with devastating emotional effects.

Though last week's full-on migraine broke last Thursday, I've had flickers of headache teetering into migraine territory, ever since. Last night, I slept poorly, waking up often with strange and disturbing imagery, mostly of the reptilian nature. These quasi-nightmares are consistent enough now that they're probably related to the same brain misfirings that cause the searing pain.

And this brings me back around to my bad attitude. No wonder I've been so blue and frustrated about my life the past few days. To be certain, life with three young children -- especially my three young children -- has its very real struggles. And I'm not in my element with babies. But the heavy sense of entrapment, loss of control, that I'll never be myself again, is headache-induced depression. Normal me can step back and see that in a few years -- heck, months -- things will be very different. Normal me sees how unbelievably lucky I am to have three thriving children, a husband I love, and overall good health myself (with one obvious huge exception). Depressed, tunnel-vision, foggy-headed me can only vaguely remember that strong, in-control, confident me ever existed.

I'm really not sure what to do with any of this. I can't let this scourge ruin my life, but paradoxically, it saps my power to fight it. It takes tremendous effort to make even the smallest steps in finding answers. I have to though. I don't want my children to remember me as Migraine Mom.

8/13/07

8/12/07 Double run

Last night when we returned from our "date night," some toys had mysteriously appeared on our doorstep. I had a good idea what this was about (hand-me-downs), and then an even better idea: hide the little hammer that came with a cute castle toy with balls to push down.

Sure enough, the boys were drawn right to the toddler toy like it had a tractor beam. It's a perfect toy for a very young toddler or a baby on the edge of becoming a toddler, but a 5-year-old starting kindergarten? I mean, really!

Naturally, this presented a fabulous opportunity for more fighting and discovery of inequities. Somehow the yellow ball had more value than the red one, and the battles only devolved from there.

However, I'm happy to report that the boys direct all their antagonism at each other. When I remind them that it's *Katrina's* toy and stick her in the fray, they mostly help her play with it, in their overbearing sort of way. She seems to understand the concept of putting a ball in a tower, though you have to push the ball down through the tower, and that she doesn't get yet.

The boys were driving us insane today, running around screeching in circles so much that Dave and I could barely exchange a few words, like to try to figure out what to do that afternoon. There was no shortage of things we each wanted to do, with various combinations of kids, but it was painfully difficult to talk to each other and make it work.

Finally, we managed to form a plan: I'd take the younger two running, and Dave would take Gabriel to buy a bicycle. Not for Gabriel, for Dave, since Gabriel rides much too fast now to keep track of on foot, and he's ready for bigger and better things than going around the block.

My master plan has succeeded!!! Before we ever had kids, I imagined that kids would finally get him exercising, that kids would force us to get out and do young and athletic things. So Dave got a bicycle, and I went running. (I think we'd have been quite happy going wine-tasting too, sitting down on a shaded patio overlooking the valley with a cheese and fruit plate.)

Somehow, I pushed Julian and Katrina in the doubler jogger. I did the flattest route there is at Rancho San Antonio, one that Sonia routinely does with a double jogger (and heavier kids), so in theory, this was doable. And in practice, it was too.

But hoo boy, those usually-kind uphills were tough. I was just barely keeping a running gait, but fell far short of a running pace. Still, if workout is what I was after, workout I got. But when I run, it's not workout I'm after. It's spirit-lifting, perspective-shifting, musing, mood management. All the logistics of a jogging stroller and two young children is counter to that, but being outdoors and surrounded by trees and hills, you can't help but to feel some revitalization.

I chatted with Julian a little, between gasps for air as I struggled up the hills. And inbetween Katrina's loud "aahhhhHHHH" sounds. She always has her feet in the air, silly baby.

Silly baby has really thrown me for a loop this weekend with naps. Amend to: without naps. Both days, only one nap. Both days, several attempts at naps at around the usual times and given the usual signs of needing a nap, but both days, only one so-so nap right around the middle of the day.

This sucks in a few ways. One, I'm not ready for her to drop a nap. Two, she's not ready to drop a nap; she's tired and high-maintenance and edgy all day. Three, Julian has daycamp next week, which means 12:30pm pickups every day, which is suddenly smack dab in the middle of the naptime she did take this weekend. I can't express how much I don't want to spend all afternoon with a baby who really really needs a nap but won't take one.

Sometimes it's overwhelming. I try not to think about how different my life would be with just the two boys. I already think of myself as transitioning to life with little kids, instead of babies and toddlers, but the moment I think of it that way, I remember: oh yeah, I'm still nursing an infant. The doubts and regrets I had about having a 3rd child while I was pregnant have come to bear almost exactly. It's futile thinking, since here we are, but sometimes it creeps in anyway. People do this on purpose? Of course, there are many times -- more times, in fact -- that I feel grateful and amazed that I have three children. And I know this pressure is short-term, that the sense of being crushed under the demands eases every month as the baby matures. But moments of reflection and a broader perspective are few and far between, and hard-won, when I'm pulled on so constantly and so hard.

18 months....18 months is when a corner is turned. And somewhere between 2 and 3, you start to come up for air. I'll take a very deep breath then.

8/12/07

8/11/07 The haircuts

It was time. Katrina's "bangs" were wisping down to the bridge of her nose. So when she wasn't (exactly) looking, I managed to hold a little of those wisps between two fingers and get in a hack or two as she flailed her head wildly from side to side.

Some before and after shots:


I think Julian did a better job on his own hair a few weeks ago, but this will have to do.

Dave took the boys to get haircuts today too. This is as cooperative as I could get either of them to be for photos. I used to think the gel job was dorky, but now I love it. I love dorky.

Fortunately we had Peggy today, so that we could do some remodel shopping and be grownups for an evening. It was long overdue.

Speaking of overdue, I haven't had my own hair cut since the day before Katrina was born, unless you count chopping off the very deadest fly-away bits at the end of a ponytail. Another dorky hack job. Maybe I should have Julian do it.

8/11/07

8/10/07 Baby bust

Argh, not a rewarding baby day. Lots and lots of tense, hectic moments when everyone wants something from me, including me, and baby is screeching her head off. Walk through the door carrying groceries, gym bag, baby....Gabriel wants milk, Julian wants a particular song, Katrina wants valet service, I want to unpack groceries, change clothes, get a drink, put things away in the kitchen to have room to do task #1.... Ah, so far lost are the days when you walked through the door and just collapse and gather yourself for a few minutes. I can't even blow my nose!

To make matters worse, the old trick of sitting Katrina in the high chair and keeping her happy with cereal for a few minutes no longer works. She's decided she must be served finger food, stuff she's perfectly capable of picking up herself, but for some reason, deigns not to. It is utterly futile to insist, as she will shriek her head off and there is no lesson to be learned from sticking it out and making a point with her. After all, she's only 10 months old. At least, I hope it's age and not personality.

The boys kept themselves busy this morning with a new use of their toys: piling them up into a "train."

Against my better judgement, I let the boys play with a new whiteboard, and two dry-erase markers. It overall worked OK, though I did have to set a "turns timer" later in the day.

But there's a new sheriff in town! And someone else to share with. Katrina made a baby-beeline for the attractive new items. Mmmm, toxic permanent marker, yummy.


(This picture is for Cousin Remi, who's famous for her numerous creative use of markers: chewing, dipping in toilets then chewing, drawing on walls, herself, etc.)

Still, I was very glad to put a demanding, edgy, unpredictable baby to bed tonight. I'm afraid we've had enough days in a row of this that it's no longer an "off" time -- I think this is for real. Her newborn self has re-emerged; the sweet smiley darling little thing of 7 months old has yielded to pre-toddler behavior. And the fact that she takes much more after Gabriel than Julian scares the bejeezus out of me.

Then again....Julian. Pre-dinner pee & wash hands has become SUCH a problem. Right as I'm at my peak busy serving dinner, I have to round the boys up and get them to get ready. My divide-and-conquer strategy of starting with one of them works, halfway: Gabriel is usually pretty speedy. But Julian....oh my goodness. Excuses, procrastination, whining, refusal, screaming, crying. It's supremely irritating, and I just don't have room for the endless reminders, warnings and countdowns.

Tonight, Calm Mom gave way to I'VEHADIT, and I carried him upstairs, kicking and screaming, unmoved by his claims of rehabilitation and cries that I was hurting him, tossed him into his room and demanded he stay there until I called for him. Then, my job of serving dinner was reduced to only mayhem, punctuated by the high-maintenance banshee-wailings of my dear daughter if Dad so much as looked the other way while he waited on her hand and foot. Sheesh.

At least I know that when I put Katrina down for the night, I won't see her until the morning. Thank goodness. Gabriel at her age was well into his -- and my -- all-nighters, applying his powerful determination and persistence to a wee-hours party. But, Gabriel also took two 2-hour naps a day, whereas Katrina takes one 1+ hour nap and another 1- hour nap. Sleeping through the night v. great napper...hmmm...eh, sleeping through the night wins.

Speaking of sleep, I was way way wired up last night. None of my usual wind-down methods worked to settle my spinning mind, not even half an Ambien. I was awake until 3am, slept lightly, and couldn't fall soundly back asleep even when woken up by a flock of noisy crows at 6am. I was very tired this morning, but still couldn't nap when I had the chance this morning during Katrina's nap.

But I recognize this energy surge now. It marks the end of a migraine. Yes folks, the storm finally broke, and when it did, the sun shone through so brightly it was blinding. Tonight, I should be back on track. Let's hope Katrina is soon too.

8/10/07

8/9/07 Broccoli

I went running tonight, and wrote a SHORT blog in my head. It went about like this:

Day 5 of migraine. Napped today 'til noon. I SO needed the catch-up.

Gabriel was delayed tonight by a broken-down bus on the way back from a field trip to his first real-live baseball game. He, of course, was thrilled, and delivered the expected analysis upon return: broken driveshaft. Oh.

Julian peacefully munched on raw broccoli stems while I made dinner as a mother of two. How MUCH easier my life is when the boys are apart!

And who knew broccoli stems would make such a tasty treat.

(Man, that boy has a beautiful mouth. His hair on the other hand....)







I attempted one of those cute candid conversations with Julian, but it's pretty mediocre. Here it is anyway.



I don't have a cute photo of Katrina today. This will have to do. She's wearing a spare set of clothes that I sent along to Tonya's, since the cute strawberry outfit she was in hampered crawling. This outfit is just too pink for me. And I just can't get myself to like collars.

Julian today suggested I give his monkey Julius a kiss on the forehead to make the pain go away. Ouch. Why do you think he thinks that kissing foreheads makes headaches go away? That was my way of turning my complaint into a positive, by pretending my headache is all better when the boys give me a kiss on the forehead. But I don't have to pretend much. Few things make me feel better than kisses from my sweet sons.

Short. Remember? SHORT! Maybe there's a chance if I stop....right....NOW.

8/9/07

8/8/07 The Target Day

Our first Wednesday in a long time with nothing scheduled. But somehow, all we managed to do was go to Target!

First, it's Day 4 of a migraine. Today was better, but still oppressive. Julian came to my defense this morning when Katrina was doing her piercing high-pitched shrieking: "Shh, Katrina! Mommy doesn't like that!" Then Gabriel surprised me when I asked him not to make a loud sound, and he said, "Geez Mom, it's been like 3 days!" Why would he know that's a long time for a headache? He's never had one! (and it's been 4, not 3). I try not to complain to the kids about having headaches, but I also don't want them to think I'm always like this. There is a reason.

One strange new thing about these long migraine bouts is the violent and disturbing imagery that flashes through my head as I'm falling asleep. It's scary in a kid-scary sort of way, like a weird evil double leprechaun staring at me, or a big greasy black crow, or being atop rafters in a skyscraper and about to fall off. When it wakes me up, I coach myself to think about something much more benign, like exactly where to place a garbage pull-out cabinet in my future new kitchen!

But enough about that. Today I had just Julian and Katrina, and wanted to take them out this morning. But Katrina was edgy, and I called it right by staying home until she took her morning nap at 10am.

Meantime, she and Julian played together -- yes, together! -- in the family room. This was a very heartwarming scene of them playing with Mr. PotatoHead, each in their own way, but most certainly together, as I cleaned up in the kitchen.

I tried to capture some video of Katrina bopping to Sesame Street, but as soon as she saw the camera, she launched into show-off mode and started crawling toward me. You can see a split second of bopping at first, then her noisy crawling. But the funny thing I didn't even realize until seeing it later: Julian trying to inject himself in the background. Goofy kid!

I had some nice time alone with my sweet middle child today, though it'd have been a lot nicer without the relentless searing pain through my head (oops, there I go again).

I embarked on a rite of passage today, an annual ritual which will be with me for another 18 years, something akin to the running of the bulls: I did my first back-to-school shopping! Oh God!

Gabriel's kindergarten orientation last June included a list of requested donated supplies for his classroom. Katrina and Julian in tow, I diligently searched for, mostly found, all items (including 36 glue sticks?!) in the huge "back to school" section at Target, which was swamped with throngs of other mothers toting other toddlers and similar lists. (Note that I didn't buy one pencil or notebook for Gabriel, as his utterly inadequate kindergarten orientation materials didn't include anything about him.)

As I was checking out, I was starting to get stressed and frantic because Katrina was getting increasingly edgy, grabbing things, making lots of "I'm about to melt down" noises, plus trying to get everything into the cart. Julian was off looking at the photo center's screens as I paid and gathered my loot.

Or was he?

Next thing I knew, a lady approached me holding Julian's hand, and Julian pointed to me saying, "There's my Mom!" She told me he'd been outside. !!!! Yikes! He couldn't have been out there for more than a few seconds, but still. I felt self-conscious and false scolding him; that's really more my fault. Still, I'd been having lots of trouble getting him to stick with me, so I did give him a stern lecture, and later, a stern talking-to by Dad. His explanation was that he went outside to look for me, but he obviously knew where I was since he led the lady right to me.

Any notions I had about taking my poor cooped-up children to a park after Target were squashed by a grumpy, screechy, wiggly baby. Home, snack, and nap it was.

I hear a New Yorker (wearing a Mets shirt, Ronan!) caught Barry Bonds' record-breaking home run ball yesterday. Too bad, 'cause guess where Gabriel is going tomorrow: to a San Francisco Giants game! He missed the record-breaking game by one! Can you imagine if he'd been there?! Well, he'll be there tomorrow, and now, every homer Barry hits is a new record. Gabriel was very, very interested in what a "record" is, and was riveted when he heard that it involved competition and numbers!

Tonight, Katrina had the same exact dinner as everyone else: beef medallions, a harvest grain mixture, and cauliflower, cut in baby-sized pieces straight off my plate. She got some soy yogurt too; I'm never sure if the tiny bits are enough in quantity, and she's certainly not too old for mushy-food. But she didn't blink when I gave her straight cauliflower. She knows exactly what to do with a sippy-cup too, unlike Gabriel who didn't "get" sippy-cups until he was 16 months old. I'm thrilled about her food flexibility. So far I've managed to escape food issues with all three.

(Poor Dave...as I type, his Mac is completely hung up and won't even boot. Ah yes, the Mighty Macs, the infallible, foolproof, idiotproof, antithesis of Windows -- that can be completely hosed by a 3-year-old playing with the login dialog screen!! Stevie, have I got a QA guy for you!)

8/8/07

8/7/07 Wrung out

No kids today, but what a waste. Reeling under the migraine headache, and from being woken up out of sound sleep last night by intense searing stabbing pain behind my right eye (the so-called "icepick" variant of migraines).

My own compulsion didn't help matters. I made myself go running today after Gabriel's swim lesson, knowing this would be the only chance I'd have all day. And, I took a long, hard route -- too hard. I felt beat up. The uphills were brutal, with every muscle screaming, lactic acid coursing through every limb, barely able to lift my feet for each step. But the uphill effort obliterated other pains: the pounding headache, stitches, sleepiness, all which returned in force on the downhills. Yet I still loved being out there, all 7-1/2 miles of it.

After the long, very hard run, I picked up a yummy salad and a few other things at Whole Foods, then rewarded myself with a long hot bath, and then a long nap, after which I made some hot coffee and dug into my hard-won salad. It wasn't until 3pm that I finally sat down in the office to get to work. By then, I was in no mood to shop around for home equity lines of credit. So I updated my kitchen wish list instead.

Tonya had a tough time with Katrina today. Poor baby's tummy seems a little upset, so she used up all the diapers I'd brought, and then some of other babies'. Katrina likes looking at the bathtub as it's filling up, but tonight she was crying because of a resulting diaper rash.

I tried to get a happy picture of her, but the best I could do was to not show her face. Still, this is interesting -- she's inherited Mom's short legs!

Gabriel did great at his swim lesson again this morning. His teacher told me he's about to get bumped up a level, to a "red" ribbon. She laughed when I told her about last Saturday's new swim lesson, in which he was pulled off the side of the pool in a careful circle by a teacher going "whee!"

I realized today that now that Gabriel is old enough, swim lessons really do contribute to his water safety. I'm not sure when exactly the corner was turned, but it's not just for fun anymore. There's still a great deal of risk, some directly as a result of swim lessons: overconfidence, getting in over his head. But at this point, he's safer in a backyard pool than a kid who can't swim, perhaps even safer than a kid who depends on flotation devices. Which, according to various lifeguards and other water-safety sources, aren't always dependable. Better than nothing if you can't swim, but not as good as being able to swim. (In a pool that is; ocean and boat safety are a whole other matter.)

Even Julian is swimming well enough that I think his skill might possibly be a positive factor in a water emergency. Katrina, of course, swims only for fun and comfort in the water, so far. I'm looking forward to the boys starting swim lessons together (at the same time that is) at DACA on Saturdays starting in September.

I feel like I've been run over by a steamroller today. And I did it to myself. No running tomorrow, but no childcare either. Oh please, please, no migraine either. It subsided tonight, but I can feel flickers of it, like a thunderstorm taking a break before the next surge of lightning strikes.

8/7/07

8/6/07 Migraine Monday

Did today actually happen? It was just a big blur, of intense pressure and sharp pain. The few moments when I wasn't staggering in pain were spent feeling angry and frustrated that my life is so compromised by this. It's such a waste of time.

I think today was the first day ever that my most troublesome child (code for "least favorite," but face it, we all feel that way sometimes) was Katrina. Her new high-pitched screech is piercing, incredibly loud, long-lasting, and a very bad mix with a migraine headache. It's like someone's taking a sharp awl and stabbing it into my ears, and is torture when she's screeching in an echo-y bathroom when I'm changing her. Owch.

I guess one good thing about hurting so badly all day is that I couldn't even try to do much. So I spent some time playing music for Julian and Katrina and playing instruments with them. Katrina loves music, instantly bopping and flailing and smiling as soon as she hears it.

She had a lot of fun rattling an egg shaker, then banging on a drum with Julian, who also loves music. All kids do, really, but I think Julian takes to it more than Gabriel does. Katrina, we don't know yet; all three of my babies responded enthusiastically to music; Julian's stuck with it more than Gabriel.

After swim lessons today, I was beside myself with agony -- and I don't use that word lightly. So no matter how bad I felt, I was getting the younger two down for naps at the same time if it killed me. Indeed, failing at that is what would kill me. I pulled it off, and then went straight downstairs to scarf some lunch, then lie down.

But a Good Mom would have noticed that even my ultra-self-entertaining oldest child was bored. This is a new thing: Gabriel needs new things to do. All our toys are oriented to younger kids. He still plays frequently with his beloved wooden train tracks, but that's a toy he's had since before he was 2 (talk about longevity!). He's ready for more.

So I played a rainy-day trump card, and pulled out something I'd stashed for just such an occasion: a kit of foam pieces to glue together into a castle. He took right to it, and put it together meticulously, following the example picture exactly. This kept him happy the rest of the afternoon.

Tonight I was working on dinner, when suddenly, I saw the pantry door started to move mysteriously. Hmm! What could be going on here?

I soon had my answer.



Little creepy-crawly into the baking stuff. Right after my own heart!

Despite feeling exhausted and dejected, I made myself go to the Y tonight after Katrina was in bed. It helped somewhat. I have way too much to do tomorrow to waste it sleeping off a horrible headache.

8/6/07

8/5/07 They're baa-aack....

23 days! I went 23 days without a migraine headache! The way this year's gone with headaches, that's downright startling.

I know this because I endured 9 straight days of life-altering brutal depressing pain in July, then got really really sick. But the first day I was really sick, I didn't have a headache. And haven't had one since.

Until last night, that is. I felt the "prodrome" -- the warning signs. Irrationally, unbearably, almost painfully sleepy, and very sensitive to loud sharp sounds, though who can tell? Loud sharp sounds are a way of life around here.

Then this morning...the onset of the familiar, dreadful, sharp, pressure and pain. Oh, how wonderful and free life is without it! How productive, optimistic, energetic -- even happy -- I can be about each day!

In the hurried $160 ten-minute brush-off I got from my last appointment (and I do mean last) with the headache doctor, between scribbling his notes and glancing nervously at the clock, he said slightly condescendingly that I should take the Imitrex when I first start to feel the migraine. I reminded him that he'd told me to take it at the onset of pain, not at the prodrome -- two events that can be separated by up to a day. No, no, he said, take it when you start to feel you're going to get it. Cap on pen. Close folder. Fold hands. Direct look at me. "Anything else?" Don't worry, I know where the door is.

I took some Imitrex this morning, and was overall pain-free until tonight, though the pressure and resulting sleepiness were still there all day. I went running tonight too, and the first half of the run was miserable, until the endorphins kicked in and overcame the pain. A good steep uphill took care of that.

My only outing today was to go to a friend's house that's being remodeled, to check out the kitchen and the whole house too. She and her husband and 3-year-old son moved out for the remodel, which is really more like building the entire house from scratch. Last week, I went to another friend's mother's house to check out her very well-thought-out and feature-filled kitchen too. One kitchen isn't finished; the other has been lived in for almost 20 years. Two very valuable perspectives! Each visit is very productive, in getting thinking about big things (flow) and small features (appliance garage or not?).

Lots of sniffing around other peoples' kitchens, reading magazines, quizzing friends and daydreaming has driven home the utter inadequacy of my own kitchen. My existing kitchen only has 5 drawers. Five! And one of those is broken! Which doesn't matter much because it's almost at the floor anyway. Most bathrooms have more drawers!

I brought Julian with me to check out my friend's house. I didn't want to stick Dave with all 3 alone if I didn't have to, and removing Julian from the mix is optimal. He seemed elated at this special trip, saying thank you to me again and again for bringing just him. He asked why Gabriel wasn't coming, and I explained, with some truth, that Gabriel was staying home to "take care" of Katrina. Julian was pretty good at my friend's construction-zone house, for a while, and when he started to get annoying, my friend's husband took him outside to look for squirrels, permanently making a new friend.

When we got home, it turned out that Katrina was still napping -- she took one three-hour nap today. As much as I love baby naps, I'm already ready for her to drop one nap, but she was so tired by 6:00pm that it's clear she's not ready for that yet. She's only 10 months old (today!) after all.

Well, I was looking forward to tomorrow, believe it or not, even though I'll have all 3 all day. Maybe it's because I know that "all 3 all day" is soon going to end, since Gabriel will belong to the schools in a few weeks. How infuriating that I'll spend one of those now-precious "all 3 all day" days fighting with a miserable headache and desperate to go to sleep. I could use another 23 days off.

8/5/07

8/4/07 The two pools

Today the boys started a 4-class session of swim lessons at the same pool where I swim.

Gabriel really wanted to see a 50-meter pool, and when we arrived, he asked a lifeguard how deep it was. She assured him it was only 3-1/2 feet deep where he'd be swimming, mistaking his question as motivated by fear. No, Gabriel just likes to fish for big numbers. He wasn't impressed with 13-1/2 feet deep.

The boys got put into the same class, and it's small, so in theory, the teacher can adapt the instruction according to the kids' ability. In practice, both of them were given instruction at about the same level a brand-new 2-year-old might get.

The boys clung to the side until the teacher pulled them around in a slow semi-circle, saying "whee!" if they actually put their face in the water. Later, one of the lifeguards told me they'd bump Gabriel up a level, but really, I didn't see anything being taught for little kids that comes close to even Julian's level.

Then again, how would they ever know that he can jump in and swim across the pool taking his own breaths if they don't ask him to? Julian isn't about to volunteer that. And Gabriel does more than that in his Tuesday morning swim lessons -- he works hard, in fact.

We'll bring them back next week, but my guess is that this place is a bust for them too. Not to mention the inevitable complaints about being cold. They're very spoiled by the ultra-warm waters of the teaching pools oriented toward little kids.

Then this afternoon, we went to one of Dave's coworker's annual pool party, in her backyard.

There, we had vindication of sorts. I insisted on being in the water with the boys at first, quickly remembering that even last year, I felt comfortable enough just sitting by the edge and watching them. And this year, Gabriel had no compunction about jumping in the deep part and swimming across to get to a chair. Later, Dave played a game with the boys that involved them swimming -- really swimming -- to retrieve a frisbee.

Even though Dave's been the one taking them to (so far failure) swim lessons on Saturdays, he hasn't seen Gabriel really swim, and he was impressed. Even Julian, once he gets past his initial hesitation, is very comfortable jumping in and making progress toward a target using his arms and kicking.

For me, all the time and expense of swim lessons come together when I see them just....swimming. They're just having fun and playing, but they're both clearly using the skills and confidence they've gotten from swim lessons. Gabriel especially is old enough now that it's really sinking in (hmm, poor choice of words!), since he can follow instructions and remember and his lessons are more than just playtime. It's really gratifying to see them applying what they've learned in a fun context, without thinking about it or concentrating, just....swimming.

In fact, at what age do you stop being completely paranoid about water safety? Knee-jerk answer is to say "never," but really, at some point, you're going to let them swim without being in the water with them, then without being right by the side of the pool. I'm not there yet by any means -- a 5-year-old who doesn't quite make it across the pool and starts to panic can easily drown -- but today I certainly didn't worry watching Gabriel jump into water well over his head, even when I was too far away to rescue him quickly. (In fact, it's become more of a safety hazard for him to jump in where it's too shallow.)

I also saw Gabriel politely, but with clear irritation, ask (demand?) that another much older, bigger kid let go of the chair he was on, when the other kid playfully swam up to it and started spinning it around. "Can you let go of that right now please?" Gabriel insisted. I watched Julian in a similar situation, and he took the opposite approach, instead engaging into the other kids' game.

Katrina joined in the fun too, as did Dave. As soon as I brought her in, she immediately started smiling and flailing around in the water until another grownup approached me -- then she launched into her pitiful cry, clearly mistaking the other adult as a swim teacher. But after some time in the water, she relaxed around other grownups. She was so exuberant that it got hard to hold her, as she splashed and blew raspberries and laughed and tried to jump out of my arms into the water. No problem going underwater either, coming up smiles and raspberries.

I noticed that another 17-month-old toddler there howled wildly when her father attempted to get her to put her head near the water. Though I still firmly believe that kids who haven't had early swim lessons can quickly catch up, there is still a lot to be said for teaching babies. Katrina is a swim-lesson-cryer, unfortunately, but it's entirely related to being held by other adults. She is very, very comfortable in the water and really, really enjoys it.

I attempted a photo-op with all three, but to my surprise, the uncooperative one this time was Julian! And both boys grabbed Katrina so quickly and closely that they'd knock her off balance. So this was the best I could do.

It was a lot of fun going to a party with other grownups -- and this year, lots of other kids -- but I was quickly reminded about the Stage we're in: crawling. It is SO cute, but SO inconvenient in these situations! Katrina really couldn't hang around outside; there were too many people, she could easily get stepped on, and all sorts of little things on the ground that just weren't good for her to have her hands in. I hung around inside the house with her, but even that was very limiting. A crawler is no longer content to sit placidly on a blanket or in a stroller, but there are a lot of places they can't just crawl around.

At the big pool this morning, as Dave was getting the boys dressed after their lesson, I brought Katrina in the stroller into the women's room with me while I got dressed (I snuck in a short swim during the boys' lessons). The floor was wet and full of hair and icky stuff, so there was no way I could let her crawl there either. As I quickly combed my hair and packed up my things, another woman there smiled at Katrina, then recognized me: "Oh I remember you, you were the pregnant one last summer!" The women I got to know a little all knew me as the one who was pregnant and miserable and found swimming to be an essential remedy. It was kind of fun, really, reconnecting with those same ladies -- with the baby there. They didn't even know if I'd had a boy or girl.

Boy, was everyone tired tonight from all the water time today! Katrina zonked early, Julian didn't even make it through dinner, Gabriel was unusually cooperative and efficient getting to bed. My turn.

8/4/07

8/3/07 Addition

This morning, Gabriel declared, "Mom, you need to learn plusses."

Er...I do?

"Yes you know, plus. Like, 16 plus 16."

Oh. Yes. Of course. Plusses. Which I need to learn. Right now. In between cutting up a mango, cooking oatmeal, and emptying the dishwasher.

"That's called addition, Gabriel. When you "plus" two numbers together, it's called addition."

"It IS?" he answered, fascinated. "So, 16 plus 16 is 22 -- that's dishin?"

Actually, it's 32.

"OK, Mom. So. Now I'll teach you dishin. What is...1 plus 1?" 2, I answered.

"What is 2 plus 2?" 4.

"4 plus 4?" 8.

"8 plus 8?" 16.

"16 plus 16?" 32.

"32 plus 32?" 64.

"64 plus 64?" 128.

"128 plus 128?" 256. "Oh! That's a really big number!" he exclaimed.

"Actually, it's 2 to the 8th, and now we're counting in powers of 2." (Chuckle from the dining room, where Dave was having breakfast.)

"Oh," he said, unimpressed. Julian made a face and the moment, mercifully, was over.

Good thing Gabriel, the future "silver engineer" (the kind that builds roads and bridges), was on the job today to rescue me from my arithmetical ignorance. Look out kindergarten, here he comes!

8/3/07

8/2/07 The footstools

Every night, the boys argue over who gets which footstool to stand on to brush their teeth. The two plastic footstools are completely identical, bought at the same time, in the same place, are the same exact color, weight, shape, without any identifying marks (like sticker residue or scratches) to tell them apart.

So you know what they fight over?

Who gets the dry footstool.

See, climbing out of the bathtub, Julian still needs a footstool to step down onto. Dave sits on one footstool, and Julian's wet feet touch the other, thus creating a temporary distinction. And a few drops of water is enough to ignite a major row over the dry footstool every night.

I'd be tempted to quickly dry off the wet footstool before the argument erupted. But why? They'll simply find something else different about the footstools to argue about. They're that dedicated.

8/2/07

8/1/07 Katrina's 9-month appt

Er...9-month? But isn't Katrina almost 10 months old? Yeah, well....lame Mom didn't actually make the appointment until after she was 9 months old. Behind as usual. The dog ate my homework and all that.

Baby's stats:

Weight: 16 lbs 8 oz (5th %ile)
Length: 27.75" (50th %ile)

Awesome job on the weight though -- that's over 2 pounds in two months! No more weight checks. She's still barely hanging on to being on the chart, but since she's in bounding good health, there's no concern.

Indeed, the conversation with the pediatrician was downright boring. There's just nothing to report. All developmental milestones are on the mark, she eats great, sleeps well, poops fine, has no unusual behaviors, and is basically a happy, joyful, completely healthy, if skinny, baby. She hasn't even really been sick, other than a sniffle or two way back when. The 3-week hive episode in May is the only thing of note, and like all pediatricians, this one shrugged it off too.

Katrina is delighted with her new crawling skill, and has been exploring every facet and every contour around her. What used to be an inaccessible blob is now a stack of magazines to pull down, a cabinet door to open, a wire to pull. She's also really really really trying to pull herself to a stand, but doesn't quite know how yet. (My plea to Mother Nature: Oh please please please give me an on-time walker this time around! I've earned it!)

Gabriel had a field trip to Boomers today, a park in Livermore (a good 45 minutes away, in the East Bay). He must have had fun, because he actually talked about it, telling me about the bumper boats and the mini golf.

And he was very ... er, energetic tonight when he got home, completely hyping up Julian too. It's really becoming a problem, how noisy and obnoxious the boys are during dinner, making it impossible for Dave and I to exchange even a few words. Kicking them out of the dining room does nothing; they scream and complain and then don't eat and then run around like mad, disturbing us even more and not learning a thing out of it. Supernanny, what are we to do?!

Thank goodness for bedtime. And for beautiful healthy babies.

8/1/07

7/31/07 The $240 Dip

No kids today! Tonya's vacation is over! Yayyyy!

Since it's been getting dark earlier and earlier in the evening, I went running this morning right after dropping Gabriel off after his swim class.

Urgh, I am so not a morning runner. I wheezed my way up the hills, then counted my various ills down the hills (knee, stitches, feeling tired). But afterward, I only remembered it as being very pleasant, mostly because I just love being outdoors, on trails and surrounded by trees, seeing different terrain, hills, canyons, open scrubby areas, scurrying lizards, rewarding views.

After a tough hot run, I really wanted to stretch -- in water. We belong to a community pool in our neighborhood, which costs us $60 a quarter. $240 a year! We've stuck with it over the years to support the neighborhood, but that sure is expensive sentiment. Especially since we hardly ever use the pool.

But I used our community pool today, for the first time this year. For about 15 minutes, I jumped and splashed and flipped and just played in the water, stretching gently with every movement. Boy, did that feel good! Even if it did cost $240.

But I didn't get all this childcare this summer just to indulge myself. My real purpose is to pursue our long-overdue downstairs remodel. And a big step was made there today. Dave came home for lunch, and we met with our new architect to sign a contract and go over the basics of the project. In a few weeks, she'll have a few designs for us to mull over.

I can't believe how different this is already shaping up to be than our upstairs remodel. I'm not wheel-spinning or fretting so much about how to pull all the pieces together, since this time, we have completely competent help and guidance. I'm delighted to let go of my inner control freak, and focus my energy instead on collecting What I Want, and let someone who knows what they're doing Put It All Together.

I went right to Borders after our productive meeting, to gather kitchen & bath magazines. I can't wait to spend some quality time with them and a stack of sticky notes.

Kids. Oh yes, children! That is what my life is about, isn't it? Not running, swimming and remodeling.

Picking up The Three after a nice day of being a grownup is always a bit of a shock, but it takes only an instant to kick back into Mom/Cook/Cleaner/Organizer/Traffic Controller/Servant mode. Nothing like trying to make dinner, feed baby, and keep happily reunited brothers from spinning themselves into a frenzy all at the same time.

Gabriel was fascinated when I told him about the lady who's going to draw us a new house, he wants to know alllll about how it's going to be built. Julian says he doesn't want to go to Tonya's, he wants to go back to daycamp, poor guy. (I think I will sign him up for one more daycamp week before summer's over, but there's no getting around it: Tonya's is where his preschool is, so there he's going.) Katrina...boy, is she a noisy baby! She's getting more and more opinionated, like about holding something, or being somewhere, about trying to do something and not being able to. The toddler years are just around the corner!

And me...always happy to have time off, always a little guilty about how much I enjoy it, and always relieved and glad to have them all with me again.

7/31/07

Today's run, according to Rancho Runner:

7) Parking -> Lower Meadow (SW) -> Farm -> Rogue Valley ->
Wildcat Loop Trail (SW) -> Upper High Meadow (E) ->
Upper Wildcat Canyon (SW -> E) -> Wildcat Loop Trail (NE) ->
Coyote -> Equestrian Parking -> Parking



Results for route: 1EF3MNPR6STUWV21
Route Miles Up  Down
  1E  0.30   15    0
  EF  0.54   40    0
  F3  0.17   30    0
  3M  0.31   25    0
  MN  0.04   10    0
  NP  0.96  460    0
  PR  0.18  135    0
  R6  0.32   60    0
  6S  1.37    0  450
  ST  0.12    0   20
  TU  0.53    0  180
  UW  0.25   50    0
  WV  0.67  120    0
  V2  0.51    0  195
  21  0.29   30    0

Total Distance = 6.56 Miles, 975 feet of climbing

7/30/07 Creepy crawly

I wish "Boris the Spider" by The Who would quit ringing in my head. It's sort of a dark-sounding song. I don't like it very much.

But the chorus sung in falsetto "creepy-crawly-creepy-crawly-creepycreepycrawlycrawly..." just begs to be heard when I watch tiny little Katrina making her way stealthily across a room...

...and straight to the stairs!

Oh No. Gabriel was absolutely impossible with stairs as a crawler. I used to carry a gate in my car for going to houses with ungated stairs, so that I wasn't constantly carrying him back down, protesting more and more each time. It got really hard after a while. Katrina's instant attraction to stairs makes me nervous about a repeat. Oh No!

She's still pretty slow, but she's having no end of fun with this crawling thing. A whole new world has opened up! And, just like Gabriel (a phrase I find myself using frighteningly frequently), she likes to crawl away, up, over, and into things.

Like to the stairs.

Then to the sliding door to the patio.

Then to the big bag of powdery, toxic grout the tilers left on the floor today.

Then into Julian's Special Bin of just his things that no one's allowed to touch.

Then into Gabriel's Special Bin of just his things that no one's allowed to touch.

Then to the thumb-pulls for the basement trapdoor, with the half-sphere recess filled with dirt, dust and crumbs.

Then to any garbage can.

Then to the prized new coloring book one or other brother left on the floor, perfect for shredding and tearing the careful artwork.

Then to a Lego assembly, perfect for shaking and pulling off tiny little bits (mmm, tasty).

And to anything other than a basket of nice, safe, soft baby toys.

"Creepy crawly creepy crawly...."

7/30/07

7/29/07 A nice party

Sunday! I get to sleep late day!

Well, until 9am, since we had a party to go to at 11am. But I overslept -- yes, overslept -- to 9:40am. Ahhh. How often does a mom of three young children get to say that?! By the time I got downstairs, everyone, even my famously food-incompetent husband, had had breakfast, and Katrina was already down for her morning nap.

I trucked everyone to a nearby park for a nice, small, low-key birthday party for Andrew, one of the usual suspects in the White family. That was really nice, hanging out quietly (where "quietly" is a relative term), chatting with other moms & dads. Everyone there had peers of their generation to play with, even Katrina and Dylan. Note to self: small is better when it comes to birthday parties!

(I didn't get a photo of Julian and Andrew playing, but there was some chase game going on between the two at some point...at least, Julian thought so. Andrew, I'm not so sure was enjoying it!)

As we were leaving the park, before we'd even gotten into the car, Julian called out, "I had fun, Mommy!" That warms my heart. I hope Andrew agreed.

Dave was at work when we got home, but the afternoon went swimmingly, thanks to Katrina taking a nap this time. Whew!

And, since Dave was at work, I started the kids' dinner at about 4:30pm. Everyone was sitting down to dinner by 5pm. That works so, so well -- why can't I pull that off every day?

The boys were promised an extra TV show if they cleaned up the family room before dinner, and Gabriel even got a gold star for being extra-special good and helpful cleaning up. I put the gold star on his hand, but Gabriel insisted on drawing himself a chart to put the gold star on.

Note that I said "kids' dinner." Katrina had mac'n'cheese with the other two, thought I mixed in some chicken with hers (the boys got peas too), then topped her off with yogurt and fruit. She loves the mac'n'cheese so much that I eventually just get tired of feeding it to her and need a change!

Recalling that our lives are made far easier when the boys are separated, I was able to avert a major Julian resistance tonight by offering to give him a bath downstairs "just you and me." When there's no Dad or Brother to impress, he's far more cooperative. I spiked his hair up after his bath, and he had fun laughing and mashing the spike back down. All he had to do was wait 5 minutes for his hair to dry, as then it's stick-straight again.

Speaking of straight hair, Katrina's early signs of curl are completely gone. Looks like she's going to get every girl's worst nightmare: straight, fine, limp, bodyless hair. A lifetime of perms, mousse, wild cuts, expensive products, damaging appliances, according to numerous straight-fine-haired friends I've had over the years. That's OK for Julian, but it's unfair: Gabriel got The Hair.

Katrina has suddenly made a drastic improvement in her crawling, even from this morning. Tonight she was easily travelling from one end of the room to another, yakking and "ahhhh-ahhhh!"-ing the whole way. She's also entered that door-fascination phase, and is due to close herself into a room at any moment.

I'm delighted that she's mobile, but nervous about how this will affect her relationship with her brothers. When Gabriel finds something of his disturbed, he demands, WHY DID YOU DO THAT, JULIAN?! He immediately softens when I suggest that Katrina might have done it...but for how much longer?

But overall, crawling is a win. And while I could do without 8-1/2 months of it this time around, it is unbearably cute. Looks like my brief respite back into the days of sitting peacefully on a blanket in the park with my baby are numbered.

7/29/07