5/10/08 The Off-Site

Dave put an "offsite" meeting down on our Google calendar, meaning, our trio was going offsite for the day. Melissa watched the three most of the day, so that Dave and I could make serious headway on looking for a place to move, and organizing remodeling tasks.

We saw 4 places today, two actually with the kids. The biggest problem we're going to have is the rental terms: we need a place for about 8 months, but quite understandably, most landlords want a 1-year lease. Two of the places we saw were out of the question, one was swarmed with renters happy to sign a one-year lease, and one was a definite possibility except that it's small, a 3BR, without any extra rooms at all for things like computers or pianos. But its terms are a 3-month lease, so we might consider it.

I made good headway on a room-by-room list of everything needed, and we also went to a plumbing supply store, where I undid a kitchen faucet and kitchen sink decision, but finalized a bathroom faucet decision. One step forward, two steps backward. This is going to kill me. I'm learning not to care about most things, but so much of my day is shared with a kitchen faucet, it has to work right. Looking nice would be good too.

The boy later said they didn't like looking at houses, perhaps because they actually followed my strict orders to behave, not run, not touch anything. I was happy -- even proud -- to see how diligently Gabriel watched Katrina, holding her hand and keeping track of her, while Dave and I looked around.

At home, the kids resumed exactly what they'd been doing at Melissa's: playing out back with bicycles, tricycles, trucks and push-mowers. Katrina laughed aloud pushing around our pop-mower.

I'd have been more productive today without this ongoing headache, but at least it's back down to a 3 out of 10 again. I just don't have time for a migraine right now!

5/9/08

5/9/08 addendum -- the fit

Melissa caught this shot today, Katrina comforting herself with her Mimi (the satin blanket, really a pillow cover from BB&B), after throwing a tantrum.

I forget the details, but it involved jealousy over the other baby Melissa cares for, who is certainly a baby to be jealous of. I'm jealous. This 7-month-old is the smiliest, bounciest, happiest, most adorable thing I've ever seen. But Katrina knows this baby upstages her, and she acts possessive, jealous and sometimes almost aggressive. And then throws a tantrum when she doesn't get her way.

Thank goodness for Mimi to help get her out of it!

5/9/08 CONTRACT

Holy Demolition, Batman!

It's official. We're remodeling. It's happening. Yay!! AGGH! Yayy!! AGGH! Yayy!

Today was among the most eventful days in our entire homeowning experience.

Dave accompanied our architect to the city to submit plans for permits. Barring any comments or requested changes, we should get the permits in 21 days -- May 30th.

And, I delivered a signed contract and a $1000 deposit check to our new contractor. We have a contractor!!

This is for real, folks! I'm no longer wandering aimlessly, wondering when I'd walk down a new road....I'm now barrelling off the edge of a cliff!

Our contractor said June is a good time to start -- July isn't ideal for him or for us, and August is really pushing it. So, OK, June.

?!JUNE?!

Today is May 9th. Do the math! Then resuscitate me! This means we need to move out now!

Our trio is going to Melissa's tomorrow so that Dave and I can spend major quality time reviewing everything we need to do, room by room -- windows, staircase banisters, flooring, bathroom vanities, flooring, doorknobs, doors, everything.

And, of course, we're kicking into high gear looking for a place to move to, with lots of craigslist perusals and inquiries. There are no shortage of houses to rent, but a real shortage of ones with less than one-year leases. An apartment, which is more likely to have a 6-month lease, is out of the question.

I have absolutely no idea where time is going to come from this month. Between "finish selection" (picking everything that's going into the house), finding a house, moving, and oh yeah, going about the business of working, managing a household and raising three children, there just aren't enough minutes in an hour.

It sure would help if I could kick this migraine. Today was one of the worst yet. I'm losing track now...day 11? Day 12? It kept me awake last night, and was absolutely brutal today, leaving me with seriously diminished capacity to kick into gear and gain any momentum on organizing our lives. So much to do, I can't get a handle on it all and prioritize, strategize, delegate!

In a major twist of irony, one of the few things I was able to do today was work, because that's a very limited scope and doesn't challenge the parts of my brain that can't think straight. But it hurt being indoors. I almost felt like I should post Dave's cell phone number in my cube in case I got slammed with a block of concrete (that's how it feels sometimes).

I'm feeling some impending separation anxiety -- on my part -- because we're going to be very busy and I'm going to miss my little buggers. So instead of testing out a kitchen faucet this afternoon, I picked Gabriel up from school. His poor teacher looked frazzled and exhausted. She said the kids have some form of kindergarten senioritis, misbehaving and not listening and being rambunctious. Gabriel was again a top troublemaker, but she didn't get specific. My little boy, so full of life and energy and strength, bursting with health and joy, running to me with a huge smile, arms outstretched, shouting, "MOMMY!!!"...how could he be so much trouble? (ergh....)

After picking Gabriel up, we drove around the neighborhood a little, looking for "For Rent" signs. There were lots of them around a few months ago, but none now. I knew it was a long shot, but I thought it'd be fun to do together. He says he can't wait to find a new house. I hope he understands we're moving back to this one. I hope I understand that as we enter this surreal stage of our lives!

5/9/08

5/8/08 Control

I really, really, really wanted to swim tonight, to clear my mind and try to equalize the relentless, vicious, horrible pressure and pain that just won't let up on my head. But the swim center's pool was closed for cleaning, and the Y's lap swim wasn't open yet. I went home, swimless, and frustrated, and went into the kitchen to dejectedly resume the nightly chores.

Dave was upstairs putting Julian and Katrina to bed, and Gabriel was downstairs playing with Legos. He saw me and asked, "Mom, remember when we used to build train tracks together?" I told him Mm-hmm, though it was a long time ago, then he said, "Can we do that together again?" Taken aback, I told him that'd be so fun, but we didn't have time tonight, let's make a date for tomorrow night. He said OK, then asked me what I was doing. I said I was just cleaning up and making lunches. "Can I help you?"

He was so sweet, so sincere -- where did this come from? He talks to me all the time about his Legos and piano and chess, but this reaching-out was different. I wasn't just someone to bounce his spinning imagination off of, it seemed like he really wanted to be with me.

So I had him make his own sandwich for tomorrow's lunch. I didn't touch anything. I told him where to get everything, gave him lots of guidance on spreading cold peanut butter (difficult for anyone!), where to find the bag to put the sandwich in, put lids back on jars, put jars away, put knife and plate in the dishwasher....lemme tell you, you need virtual handcuffs to keep your hands off when your six-year-old has a knife full of jelly, his head turned and not paying attention! But I exerted tremendous control in not being controlling, and he did the whole thing himself.

His conclusion from the experience? "I don't want to make my own sandwiches anymore." Yeah, it's a lot of work, huh! Mission accomplished! We had a laugh together at Dave's expense that now Gabriel knows as much about making a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich as Dad. (I'm sorry to say that's almost true.)

No tantrums from Katrina today. And Julian's healing kiss on my forehead was the best medicine possible. Kids are good.

5/8/08

5/7/08 The stroller

Melissa had stepped out when I arrived unexpectedly early this morning to drop off Katrina...so I had a few minutes to play with her outside. Of course, she would have nothing to do with me when she found this stroller to push around.

We get bid #2 tomorrow! This remodel might actually happen. My mom asked if I'd talked to the boys much about moving out yet, and asked if they might be scared or upset by it. That hadn't even occurred to me, but then, I'm not known for my accurate predictions.

So I brought it up with Gabriel tonight, and told him we will have to look for another house to live in for a while, while the "carpenters" fix our house. "Oh cool!" he said, "let's look now!" Julian said he wants to paint our house "rainbow." Yeah, somehow I didn't think they'd be scared!

Tonight I was play-chasing a naked and giggly Katrina before taking her up for a bath, when suddenly it felt like I'd stepped in a bowl of Jello and my footing was squishy. No, it's not what you think -- I inspected my shoe and found nothing. As I stood upright, again it felt like I was on Jello footing, then it felt like I'd suddenly been shifted sideways by a few inches. As I caught my balance, I realized that this was just another migraine moment. This is the sort of weird altered perception that happens all the time with a headache -- this particular incident was different only in that it was distinct enough to describe. Day 9 of a 3-out-of-10 headache.

This is no time not to be able to think straight -- or else our house just might end up being rainbow!

5/7/08

5/6/08 The Variety

It won't stop. It's going to literally weigh on me for the rest of my life (ok, not literally, but it does feel like a 35-pound disk has been parked inside my brain). At this point the worst part is the relentlessly disturbed sleep. That's even worse than catching a glance at my new enemy, the mirror, and seeing a puffy-faced, strung-out, wasted former human being.

The price for a gallon of 87-octane regular gas at the most convenient gas station on the way home from work today was $4.22 a gallon.

This was no time to get depressed about money. I was on my way home to meet the first contractor to give us a bid.

Gas prices are not only high, but they seem to vary a lot now too. The station closest to home was selling gas for the much more "reasonable" $3.85 a gallon today. Things are looking up.

But I was in no shape to meet with a contractor. Our lives were about to be permanently altered (disruption, debt, distress), and here I was barely to put sentences together.

And indeed, my life was permanently altered. The contractor we greatly favor came in with a perfectly reasonable bid. I am beside myself. We're going through the formality of getting a second bid Thursday, but unless the second guy offers to do it for free, we're set on the meticulousness, thoroughness, professionalism and fabulous communication skills of the contractor we met with today.

Dave picked up our trio while I summoned every scrap of willpower -- nay, will to live -- I had left, and forced myself go running. I made the right call; it wasn't long before endorphins kicked in and the headache was momentarily on pause. Oh my, how I've missed running -- the immersion in nature, the rhythm of the movement, the clear thinking, the pure effort, the reunion with my soul. Energy and optimism and joy surged inside me, and I topped it off with a full-on all-out haul-ass sprint at the end, pushing so hard I felt like I was flying. There's just nothing better....though, finding a good contractor you really like is pretty darned close.

The pressure and strange feelings picked right back up when I got home, but I was too happy to see my dear children, without the drudgery of the hour-long pickups first. One dear child was the picture of sweetness and cooperation -- and yogurt. Katrina's insistence on feeding herself doesn't mix well with her refusal to wear bibs, but, I can live with this. Especially since: no tantrums today! Yay!

Maybe it's because she re-discovered this push-wagon. It keeps getting banished because her brothers wreak havoc with it, then she sees it semi-hidden and demands it and is thrilled to have it back. Since the last time she had it, she's grown enough that now she can reach the ground!

Somehow, her scraped nose from Sunday looks worse every day!


No tantrums, a good contractor, a local gas station with a "low" price...now all I need is a headache-free day.

5/6/08

5/5/08 The Kat-walk

I had some perspective on my dear girl today, writing in email to a friend (slightly modified): "I have a healthy, energetic, normal toddler: adaptable, fabulous attention span; no eating, sleeping, car or separation issues; no issues away from home or with other people; no hitting, kicking or biting problems; overall cooperates, likes to please, interacts and usually plays like a charming little angel...near perfection. So what am I complaining about?"

I was reminded when struck with the double-whammy this evening of having to bring her in from outdoors and change a stinky. Naturally, this egregious offense on my part resulted in a major tantrum, no doubt made worse by the need for dinner. But I was in no mood to scrape food off the walls, and Katrina made it quite clear that's where it was going the moment I sat her down in her high chair. I took her out, and she re-assumed yesterday's posture on the ground, on her back kicking and crying, pretty much in the middle of the kitchen.

Great. Fine. Again. It figures. Brace myself. Deep breath. Batten down the hatches. Here we go.

I had nothing to lose by giving the cool-down idea another shot. Without a word, I unceremoniously moved her to a corner of the family room, out of sight. She threw herself on the ground again.

And then you know what the little sneak did? Tantruming all the way, she pushed herself on her back with her feet, in a perverse cockroach-like catwalk, all the way back to her original spot, kicking and crying the whole way. If she was going to throw a tantrum, I was damn well going to see it!

So I moved her back to the corner, without a word or any reaction at all.

And again, she made her way back, on her back, kicking and screaming the whole way, to the same exact spot. She did this with some stealth, not in-your-face, as though her distress just happened to bring her back, and then just happened to keep her there. Funny, that.

The little stinker! This was just for show!

So I tried (again) not to be an audience. It's hard, because she was right in the middle of everything and made it hard to hold normal conversation with the boys. But then, right before dinner, "normal" conversation with the boys involves a lot of yelling anyway. I turned the radio WAY up, and sang to myself and danced around while I got the final parts of dinner ready. The boys were unusually cooperative, aware that they'd been upstaged. They sat down to dinner while the tantrum raged on.

I put a sippy-cup of milk and a bowl of broccoli on her chair, within reach, in case she really did get hungry. And whaddya know, the little rat actually did get up and grab her milk when she thought I wasn't looking, then lay right back down to resume the performance.

After I had the boys settled down to dinner, I was able to tackle Katrina. I know from experience that even the tantrumer gets tired of the tantrum after a while, but doesn't know how to get out of it, and welcomes a graceful exit.

So I quietly picked her up and sat her in the high chair in the dining room, where her brothers were making pig-sounds and bathroom talk (great), and quickly put myself out of sight. No eye contact, no talking. Zoom in with a bowl of food, a spoon, some hidden crossed fingers, a round of giggles from foul-mouthed little boys...and we were done. Whew.

No good photos today, just one crummy one. The boys like to run along some bushes and then back down a sidewalk on the way to the car, after Gabriel's piano lesson. Today Gabriel and a piano classmate stopped to laugh together too. I sure hope they don't do that during the class.

I love these moments with my boys; they're both filled with joy at their reunion and find fun in the simplest things together.

Unfortunately, we couldn't just go home. First, another pickup. Boy, am I looking forward to not having another 45 minutes of rush-hour driving afterward to get their normal, healthy, energetic, lively, adorable (ahem!) little sister.

5/5/08

5/4/08 Tantrums

Do you believe in reincarnation? Well, here it is. Gabriel The Torrid Toddler has been reborn, in a female, strawberry-blonde version.

Katrina's tantrums are now a multi-daily thing. They're set off by the apparently smallest event, often related to a diaper change, and then last and last and last through numerous other events.

I'm trying to remember how to deal with tantrums in a toddler too young to weigh consequences, or to sit in timeout. Putting her somewhere so she can finish her fit sounds good in theory, but I'm realizing -- remembering -- why that doesn't work. It quickly turns into the tantrumer controlling the situation, sometimes deliberately. When she's in another room crying and screaming, I'm "on duty," paying full attention, listening for breaks in the storm, checking for opportunities to get her back on track. I still need to feed her, to go places, to do things -- we can't all be left on hold for as long as she decides.

Besides, on the surface, it sounds like you can just ignore it, but that's only true if it will end in a relatively short amount of time. First of all, you can't really ignore it. But even if you could -- for how long? Half an hour? An hour? At what point does it become neglect for a 19-month-old to be freaking out alone?

Katrina didn't get a nap today, and I took her to a birthday party outdoors in a park, knowing she'd be better off outside in a new distracting situation than at home. She did fine at a very nice party in a nice park outside, even recovering from a nice face-plant on the pavement, and had fun trying to climb up a nice slide.

I enjoyed being able to stand and talk and mostly relax while I watched her play. At first she checked in with me a lot, but later, she wandered off on her own, though her brothers were often in sight.

She fell asleep in the car on the way home, and I let her sleep in the car for almost an hour, frequently checking on her. I heard her when she woke up and she was not happy. This turned into another full-scale tantrum, more sad than angry, and without her usual energy, but no less persistent.

About 30 minutes into it, she had escalated to kicking while lying on the ground, mortally offended by the offer of her favorite food. I had no choice but to leave her alone while I got everyone's dinner together, which did nothing to lessen it (though she calmed down momentarily for the camera).


Dave got her out of a tantrum yesterday by showing her some favorite Sesame Street clips on his iPhone. This time, he asked the boys to show it to her, which they happily obliged.

It worked for the length of the video, but picked right up again afterward.

After everyone was sitting to dinner, I put my full attention to pulling her out of this. I sat and read "Five Pumpkins" at least 25 times, then moved on to a lift-the-flap farm book. It took 10-15 minutes, but finally, she calmed down for just brief enough moments that the reading would take hold, and finally, FINALLY she got interested in the book. After more reading, I was able to move her to my lap, read both books for now the 100th time. By then, Julian was done with dinner and was butting in, so I was able to transition her to sitting with him and reading. I didn't dare offer her dinner until another half hour later, when she was finally far enough away from The Fit to eat.

It's exhausting. I feel run over by a steamroller after these episodes. These are very, very long minutes -- about 60 of them tonight.

I thought I'd be good at this by now. I know better what to expect. But so what? I know that getting her out of these fits is a crazy patchwork of time, luck, timing, and persisting enough with the right distraction for that particular tantrum. And in the end, I still don't know if I could have gotten through it sooner, or prevented it somehow.

I do know, sitting here in the safety of the office, listening to her even breathing over the monitor, that she'll outgrow them. And I'm not as mystified or alone as I was with Gabriel, baffled why all the standard methods and experts and advice and magazine articles and nanny TV shows never came close to addressing the challenge. And I have Julian to remind me that I'm not completely defective. But that's little comfort during the first 99 readings.

Maybe I'm freaking out about this far more than necessary. It's only been a week or two of serious tantrums after all. Maybe they won't last for two years. Maybe she won't completely control us, send me into a depression, cast a dark shadow over the whole household, make me lie awake at night shaking with frustration about how difficult this toddler makes it to love him. Her, this time.

Or maybe it's just this ongoing, persistent, relentless migraine. It's not the worst I've ever had, but when it's not actively striking, it's a constant undertow. It seriously drains my emotional resources and resolve, at a time when I'm faced with the most stressful child-raising moments.

Experience also tells me that reconciliation is instant and easy. All it takes is quietly stealing into her room and watching her sleep, listening to her breathe, touching her soft hair, and seeing her look so peaceful and so secure and so vulnerable. Despite her fierce displays, she's really just a baby.

5/4/08

5/3/08 Just you and me

This doesn't happen often, but the kids had another sleepover last night, two Fridays in a row. This meant that today would be limited by overtired children, so we made a point of not going anywhere.

But this had an odd side-effect: the boys played indoors on our computers all day! Usually counting screen-time isn't a factor in our lives, but if there someone monitoring our permissiveness, we'd have failed the test. Gabriel could not be wrested from the Mac chess again, despite his crummy endgame that results in frequent draws when he has 8 pieces left to his opponent's one.

Then Dave set him up to play chess against someone on the Internet! It was a close game until the very end when Gabriel's opponent disconnected before finishing the game. Probably for the same reason Gabriel would have also had to bail in a few minutes: Mom says time to go wash hands for dinner.

Dave picked up the bunch and minded them this morning while I went to a ballet class. He described Katrina as "bipolar," flipping out and staying angry for a long time after every diaper change. Other times, she was darling and delightful and full of energy. She was better after a nap, and after a snack, it was really time to get her and Gabriel out, even for a short trip, so I took first & last-born for a quick shopping.


Julian didn't need to get out as much as they did, and he wasn't interested anyway....until we were leaving. He was all sad about me not taking him, so I made it up to him by making chocolate-chip cookies with him, "just you and me."

Both boys really like it when we do things "just you and me," so I use the term carefully and only when I can fully commit to it (thankfully Dave said he could watch Katrina outside while he tackled our weed jungle).

I just got the spring 2008 edition of Fine Homebuilding's Great Kitchens. The cover kitchen is absolutely stunning, and bears some resemblance to what mine will look like. Operative word there is some, because mine will be lacking major elements of this beautiful cover kitchen: numerous windows with green views, tons of space, really unusual cabinets. But the white cabinets with some glass, the wood island with legs and seating for 4, some open shelves, the floors -- all reminiscent of what I hope mine will look like.

Of all the complaints I have about my current kitchen, one of my biggest complaints lately is that photos taken in it are horrible! Bad lighting, awful backgrounds, tight quarters...cookie-mixing photos are tough anyway, but anything will be an improvement. Then we'll do lots of "just you and me"...and lots of all of us.

5/3/08

5/2/08 No respect

Sunnyvale posted our house with a notice about our upcoming "addition to the second story addition," which is really funny because most of the remodel will be downstairs.

Apparently, the few square feet we're adding to the upstairs (again!), that will (barely) visible to only our two immmediate next-door neighbors, triggered some requirement to post the notice, as well as mail it to all our neighbors.

But Julian needs to learn some respect for authority. Or not -- that's how I feel too!

5/2/08

5/1/08 Ms

Massive, monstrous, miserable, mortifying, mean....migraine.

Tonight injury was added to insult when I bent down to pick up some pasta stars from the kitchen floor, and the silverware drawer popped open. As I stood up, >>>bang<<< on my forehead -- the worst thing that can happen to a headacher. I crumpled in agony on the floor, crying out in pain. But then something remarkable happened.

Katrina, mid-fit herself about the horror of just having had her hands washed, stopped her fit, cocked her head and came right over to me, pushing my hands off my face. Intently fascinated and curious, and perhaps even a little concerned, she pushed me into a full sit on the floor and plopped herself on my lap, then pulled my hands around her waist, something she only ever does in the beginning of music class. She kept looking up at me, talking to me, watching me closely, not letting me change my focus off her and back to myself. She wasn't scared or upset by my distress, it was more like she was aggressively trying to stop it.

It reminded me strongly of how I reacted during a memorable moment in my life, when I was 13 and my parents sat us down and told us they were separating. My mother started to cry, something I'd pretty much never seen, and I went right over to comfort her. But even then I knew then I was really comforting myself, because my mother showing the slightest sign of humanity rocked my world -- she had to be my strong immovable pillar or I couldn't live. Katrina's response to my moment of weakness seemed very much the same -- not fear, not sympathy, but rather: "you can't be like this, this doesn't exist."

The boys' reaction to my stress is very different. Gabriel pretty much never notices or responds. Julian acts puzzled, he watches me with wide eyes and asks me what's wrong, but I can usually put on a happy face and distract him ("oh I just bonked my head...hey, where's your new car?"). I was totally unprepared for the strength of Katrina's reaction; she was almost forceful, and would not be put off. Fascinating, these children are.

[ Later addendum: Dave points out that since she was interrupted mid-tantrum by my unfortunate encounter with a drawer, her behavior toward me was more likely a way to re-direct attention back to her....that seems quite right! ]

I had some real highlights today: a run at Rancho, where it was just beautiful, and a nice outing with my Mom friends, some nice moments with the kids. But thanks to this vicious headache, it came out as a really tough day. But again, thanks to my willful toddler, the headache won't be the most memorable thing about the day.

5/1/08

4/30/08 Too safe?

I remember fire drills at school when I was a kid. Pretty exciting, actually, and a great way to get out of classes and hang out with friends.

How things have changed. An excerpt from a notice we got today from Gabriel's teacher preparing us for a drill his school will be conducting:

Here is what I need to tell them: We are just practicing, in case there was ever a bad person on our campus that wanted to hurt us. Once the drill begins, it will last 15 minutes. We will lock the door, block the door from the inside with desks etc., as well as build a barricade that we will hide behind. We will then sit very quietly and pretend that we are hiding.

The teacher is naturally very concerned that some of the kids will be scared, and asks us to talk to them and prepare them.

This is over the top. Conducting drills so they're prepared for emergencies, know how to line up, where to meet, how to respond if there's a fire or earthquake or some emergency, sure. But barricading themselves inside a room and hiding? I've never bought the cliche "you can never be too safe," and this is why. This is "too safe."

Katrina...oh my goodness. Schizo-baby! Melissa reported two massive tantrums today, and we had one more tonight as well. These tantrums take on a life of their own....triggered by some ordinary event (having to leave a favorite play area, a diaper change), then persisting through more events and new reasons to throw new fits. Not even Gabriel had tantrums to this extent at just 18 months old....with him they started around 19 months (though his hitting problem was well-established by now).

Then when it's over, she's the happiest, cheeriest, funniest most playful little thing imaginable, giggling and bursting with joyful energy and being absolutely adorable.

Imagine if Julian had been my first, and I thought that's how all toddlers acted -- I'd be in serious shock right now! Another mom friend recently commented that her 2-1/4-year-old boy had "just started" with tantrums, throwing himself on the floor, for instance. JUST STARTED!!

This brings me right back to when I was in the exact same life as other toddler-moms, yet still in a completely different world, exchanging experiences with the same words, but speaking a different language. I know, because I've been in two toddler-worlds now. One is called Julian-Toddler-World and one is called Gabriel-Katrina-Toddler-World. A "tantrum" in each world is the difference between a gentle breeze and a tornado.

Speaking of Gabriel tantrums...I was upstairs resting this evening (I'm on day 3 of a "functional migraine") when I heard Gabriel screaming and crying, apparently having been physically removed from his new chess obsession by Dave, who'd run out of patience and gentle ways to wrest him up for bathtime.

I intervened, without looking like I was, by taking over Gabriel and talking to him while he furiously described his father's crimes. He wanted to make just one more move because the pawn....ah-hah, I had an opening. I asked how many squares a pawn can move. "Well, of COURSE, just one!" I drummed up what little memory I had of chess pieces, and asked him how a knight moves and which can move diagonally and how you queen a pawn and how many bishops you have. His enthusiasm and excitement were infectious, and I kept it going until he'd gotten over his fury. Then as I persuaded him to get undressed, we talked about word games and how we'd play Boggle together (sucker).

After about 15 minutes of genuinely delightful conversation with my bright-eyed little boy, he cheerfully went to join Julian in the bath, storm having passed. And for me, a huge reward: I overheard him tell Dave, "I was just having the BEST talk with Mom about games!" Then he added, "...and we also talked about YOU!"

It was a good reminder that as they get older, reasoning ability helps manage the vice-like persistence. Gabriel is living proof of my tantrumy little toddler's future, just as she re-lives his past.

4/30/08

4/29/08 The Blowout

Last night, as I started my bath, I couldn't turn the water on. No matter how much I turned the knob, it just wouldn't move. What gives here? Finally I realized it: I was turning it the wrong way. Now what gives?! Am I losing my mind?

Turns out, yes. Because those tiny cognitive blackouts are a marker for an oncoming migraine. Momentary inability to recall my last name, to shift my car, to turn a knob in the right direction....all small sparks from the miswiring in my head that causes the scourge of migraine.

It hit hard today at work, made far worse by another incredibly useless painfully dull training session this afternoon, for a protocol I don't know, will never use, don't even know what the letters stand for, and on test equipment for which I didn't have the software on my computer anyway. I'm not sure which torture was worse: the headache or the boredom. Mostly, I web-surfed, horrified by this story about an Austrian man who incarcerated his daughter for 24 years and fathered 7 children by her.

I really looked forward to being home with my dear children, despite the daunting drive and pickups, made all the worse by the looming pain and pressure. Katrina was adorable playing outside at Melissa's....until I had to remove her from a dirtpile. OH MY. I had to carry her, kicking and flailing and screaming and deposit her unceremoniously into the car, where she fought hard not to get strapped in. Thank goodness she's really not very strong or coordinated.

Then she screamed and cried most of the way to get Gabriel. The screaming went right to my tortured nerve center, making me feel like I was going to have a seizure. I blasted the radio as loud as it would go, also painful, but not as bad. Usually that stops her screaming, but all it did this time was somewhat drown it out. The screaming didn't cease until I carried her in to get Gabriel. Thank goodness, finally a brea....

...hmm, why is my arm wet? And Katrina's back? And her bottom ....and.... Holy crap! It's ALL over my sweater, shirt, arm, hands; her shirt, sweatshirt, pants, outside the pants, EVERYTHING. WHAT a mess!!

I grabbed a paper towel to try to get the worst of it off, but this set off a full-on firestorm tantrum -- rolling on the floor, screaming, trying to crawl away, attracting the attention of the entire CDC. I didn't know what to do -- she was much too much of a mess to leave while I scrounged up what I'd need to change her. Besides, this would take a full box of wipes and a bath for both of us. Someone gave me a plastic bag, where I put my sweater. I put her sweatshirt around her waist to cover the worst of it, starting more fits afresh, then grabbed a long strip of paper towels, held them on her back, braced her against me in the tightest hold I could manage, and rushed out to the car with Gabriel trotting behind me to keep up.

I called Dave to ask him to get Julian, but couldn't hear him above the screaming, so I amended my question to an order: "GET JULIAN!" Katrina was going full-bore by now. She didn't let up through bringing her inside, trying to strip her as she flung herself on the floor, and trying to get her filthy diaper off as she kicked and flailed and screamed and twisted and grabbed my hands and did everything in her power to make this already difficult job impossible. GEEZ I was only trying to clean her up! A brief bath didn't calm her either; all she did was stand up and try to climb out and very nearly slip and bash her chin.

Clean, diapered and with a sippy-cup of milk, she still stood screaming and crying, almost convulsing, face covered in tears and snot, but this was the best opportunity I had to run upstairs and strip my own clothes right in front of the washing machine and get us both some clean clothes.

It didn't end there. Now prepared to give her tantrum my full attention, I did everything I could think of to break her out of it, but she was in full swing. Food, no. Reading, no. Music, no. Counting, no. Pretending to ignore her while I danced around, no. Leaving her alone for a few minutes, no. Food again, no. Sippy-cup, no. She was going on an hour now, riding on major momentum. Even if she wanted to, she didn't know how to get out of it.

Visions of Gabriel flashed through my throbbing head. I've done this before! I know how bad it is! But I know I can get through it too. Parental amnesia is strong, but I know this never happened with Julian. Unfortunately, parental amnesia isn't strong enough to forget the horror of these tantrums with Gabriel.

Finally, finally, finally, I tried once again to pick her up, and this time, she didn't take swings at me. I slowly and carefully offered her a bite of spaghetti, and slowly and carefully, she took it. Thank GOD! Another bite. And another. Sip of milk. Reaches for the spoon....finally, I could set her down in her chair. And so it passed. The sigh of relief from me could have knocked down a redwood.

Still shaking from the trauma and reeling from the intense headache, I called Dave and said -- not asked -- "take the boys out to dinner, I am NOT cooking tonight!"

This was a very, very long and painful hour. It'd be easier to handle it if she could just tell me ahead of time how long it'll take to pass, so I can look forward to the angelic fresh clear happy toddler that emerges afterward. Once the food kicked in, Katrina was charming and playful and adorable. Forgiveness comes easy.

(Katrina has some chub on her now, but she still has skinny ankles!)

I finally found out why Gabriel isn't drinking the milk boxes I pack him for lunch, after drinking them every day at first: "Because they're not the Clover ones, Mom!" Brand recognition, silly me, why didn't I guess that?!

4/29/08

4/28/08 The mornings

Katrina had a great time in music class today -- and no mini-meltdowns!

My days go so, so much better now that I've given up trying to beat traffic in the morning. Sleeping later helps, but really, the biggest factor is spending some time with Katrina in the morning. It's not all fun and games; she can be a pest with feeding, and I don't like getting banana splatters on my work clothes, or dealing with a stinky right before getting in the car. But it makes me feel so much more connected to what's really important in my life.

Katrina is "speaking" in full sentences. She looks right at you and utters a series of words, with lilts and pauses and intonations that sound just like real speech. Too bad they're not in English!! They're a complete mishmash jumble of sounds. But they seem to mean something to her.

Today she came in to find me and "said" some sort of sentence, looking at me intently, then looking to a different room. For the first time, she clearly was trying to tell me something, so I followed her into our guest room where she'd turned on the TV. Ah. Then she "explained" to me how she did it.

Julian helped me get Katrina to eat a whole bowl of pasta stars (shh, with broccoli bits) tonight. She rejected it outright at first, until Julian and I chanted together: "Spoon goes in the moooooouuuthh!!" and she'd giggle as she shoveled a huge spoonful of food in her mouth as we sang "mouuth!" She ate the whole bowl in about 5 minutes -- the difference between a paltry dinner and a nice big satisfying one. This left us with a charming adorable happy toddler for the rest of the evening. It's funny that I played that game with Julian when he was a toddler, and now he was helping me play it too.

Gabriel was too busy during all this with his new distraction: chess. Dave showed him the very basics on a Mac chess game, and now he plays it again and again and again and again and again and....well, this is Gabriel we're talking about. He's learning all about the game from the computer program and having great fun with it. Oh the modern age -- he'll be pretty surprised to find out that real chessboards with real pieces exist!

4/28/08

4/27/08 Girls Day

Dave took the boys to Half Moon Bay today to Pacific Coast Dream Machines, a now-annual event for us. I was sort of anxious for the boys to leave this morning so I could have Katrina all to myself all day! Finally, they left at 11am.

We didn't do much, but it was a wonderful not-doing much. I made a mecca to Trader Joe's, apprehensive because of Katrina's furious fit about being wrestled away from the backyard (oh and the offense of a diaper change too). But she was delightful, turning a major shopping trip into a fun outing together: going "zoooom!" when I'd push the cart, singing and making adorable sounds, playing peek-a-boo with people stacked up behind us at the cash register.

She fell asleep on the way back from TJ's, soundly enough that she rested her head down (and it happened to land on me), and I was able to take a photo in the mirror. This is a rare event, I had to commemorate it!

After her nap, I took her on some errands, which again she lit up into fun time together, after she got over being mad about diaper changes and having to leave the backyard.

It was a beautiful day today, we were all glad to be in T-shirts. After brothers returned, all flush and full of energy from a fun trip seeing motorcycles and helicopters, she was happy to be reunited with them, and she spent every instant out back that she could, getting coated in dirt.

The boys had a great time. I wish I could have been there too, but I'll get a lot more out of these things when not dealing with a toddler.



Why can't weekends be three days?

4/27/08

4/26/08 She's Gotta Have It

Nosy neighbor that I am, I stopped by an open house in our neighborhood today. You never know what you might pick up. And boy did I score with this: "Kick Sweep".

How many times a day do I grab a broom and sweep up crumbs, cereal, food bits, dirt, whatever? About a million. How many times a day do I actually pick up the ever-growing pile? About ... um, er, once. This feature is part of a central vacuum system, and lets you sweep stuff right into a slot along the floor. That is SO for me!

If I had any doubts at all about remodeling vs. moving, this does it. Now I have to hope a central vac system doesn't have to be drawn into our remodeling plans, which in theory are done. Well, they can be changed of course, if I want more delays and more cost.

The kids all had a sleepover last night, and as predicted, we paid dearly today. Katrina and Julian both had multiple meltdowns. I made a point of not taking them anywhere today, and they pretty much played in the yard all day.

For Uncle Ronan: the boys had a great time talking to him on the speakerphone this afternoon.


The playhouse out back was apparently "No Babies Allowed" today. Katrina did not approve, but she can't intimidate Julian as she can other kids who aren't used to her.


Gabriel decided to teach Julian how to jump rope, with amusing, if middling, results.



Gabriel shows levels 1 through 3 of learning jump rope.


Meantime, Katrina, who'd succeeded in getting into the playhouse and coating herself with dirt, rearranged chairs and played with wheeled things.


I went running this afternoon! I've been encouraged that the impact activities I've been trying, including a mile on the treadmill, have resulted in only minimal buzzing and feet-falling-asleep. And I'm feeling cheeky about possibly having an actual diagnosable and fixable condition (the herniated lumbar disc). So I did a short, but exhausting given my diminished condition, run at Rancho this afternoon. So far so good!

4/26/08

4/25/08 Holding hands

Gabriel and Katrina sat quietly holding hands in the car, driving back from picking her up today. I managed to catch a shot at a long red light.


I have this "thing" with Julian's pal Taeshon, one of the friendliest and hammiest kids I've ever met. I give him a hug and a kiss, and he gives me a kiss and I make a huge deal of what a fabulous kiss it was, and he goes "WHOAAAAA!!!". Julian and Taeshon play a lot together, and give each other hugs goodbye (boy-style).


Sleepover tonight! Dave and I went out to a wonderful dinner, I had too much wine, and fell asleep during what he reports was a pretty good movie (Vitus, about a piano prodigy who just wants to be a kid).

4/25/08

4/24/08 The Delay

Our city design review committee will recommend our remodeling plans to be approved! They want to notify our neighbors first, so we can submit for permits after May 12. Great!

....Wait a second...May 12?!

We first tried to submit April 7! This extra design review is costing us a full 5 weeks. Then, after we submit, it's another 4-6 weeks to get the permits. That brings us to mid-June -- just in time for our summer visit back East.

This is never, ever going to happen. It's all a big joke someone's playing on me. I'm never going to have a new kitchen.


4/24/08

4/23/08 Not again!

GABRIEL....argh.

This time, his teacher reports that he rifled through his teacher's workbox, pulled out other kids' work, and made fun of them. After being told not to, he did again, once with a cohort. He and said cohort were made to sit out part of recess, and later, Gabriel in particular was made to sit in another classroom (his teacher once told me that usually freaks them out). The next step is the principal's office. The teacher was most concerned about his ridicule of other kids.

So tonight, Dave and I did something of an intervention. It was all I could do not to laugh seeing the cloud cross his face when he saw us standing together and instructing him to go to the living room. He does not like that. Of course, his reaction is defiance, not fear or contrition as one would hope, and on his way into the living room he spit out that he wasn't going to say anything.

Lacking much to say, and making sure to speak very clearly and slowly so that his hearing impairment wasn't a factor, my delivery was surprisingly effective, I thought. It was tempting to insist that he answer questions, but I remembered how he'd maintained control of situations as a toddler by refusing to say he was sorry. Not this time. Besides, it was easy to trick him into breaking his silence by telling him I heard he'd been sent to the principal's office, which he immediately denied.

He had to go to his room and write "I'm sorry for not listening I'm sorry for making fun of other kids" ten times, a requirement he met 6/10 of the way, and he'll have to finish out tomorrow. The loss of his playtime naturally resulted in a horribly ugly scene, and it wasn't until well after he was in bed that I was able to calm him down enough for him to relax and go to sleep.

I also tried some positive modeling (I just made up that term) by talking to him about what he should say if he thinks another kid's work isn't good. I told him he should encourage the kid, and say something nice. It was most effective when I used Katrina as an example: "Will you make fun of her when she scribbles outside the lines? No, you'll say, 'Nice try!'" and other such drivel that adults all think is good teaching and that kids universally think is stupid. I mean really, didn't grownups say all sorts of stuff to you as a kid you thought was dumb?

Dave took Gabriel to the pediatrician today: no surprise, fluid in his ears. Doc suspects some infection keeping them clogged, so we're trying antibiotics for 10 days, then will follow up. Dave picked Julian up on the way back, and lucky me, the boys made a detour to get Mom a pick-me-up:

My favorite: daisies! Julian picked these himself. Did he know that my wedding bouquet had lots of (mini)daisies?

I did not coordinate Katrina's clothes to her favorite little push-wagon today, I did not, I did not! But what a fortunate fashion faux pas.


4/23/08

4/22/08 Zapped

I had a nerve test this morning...I should have known when the doc said "these usually aren't fun." OWWWWW! About an hour of getting zapped all around my feet and legs.

And the results? Not much, mostly normal, but the "S1" nerve does seem to be irritated. That one terminates around the lower lumbar area, same neighborhood as my tricky sacro-iliac joint. I left with a pamphlet on "Herniated Lumbar Discs" and a prescription for an MRI.

I deliberately tried to aggravate this problem yesterday by going to the Y, in the hopes of making it more obvious to diagnose. The good news is that I only slightly succeeded. I definitely feel it today, but not nearly as badly as before. This after a Zumba class and then running .5 miles on the treadmill. Yay!

The Zumba class....wow. What's better than a new Zumba teacher? A new awesome Zumba teacher. And what's even better than a new awesome Zumba teacher? One who throws in some hip-hop too. And what's even better than a new awesome hip-hop Zumba teacher? One with fabulous music who cranks it! And what's even better than a new awesome hip-hop music-cranking Zumba teacher? One who hasn't been discovered yet so there are still passes available when you stumble across the class 5 minutes after it started. Unfortunately, "undiscovered" won't last long; the class LOVED her and word will spread fast. Next week, it'll be serious competition for passes. But boy, I sure had a great time.

Something unbelievable happened at work today. I actually had a good time. Yesterday, I went in and didn't talk to anyone. Today, I attended another training session, but this time, it was for something more relevant to my job, and I got to actually talk to people and interact. As hermit-like and focused as I am by nature, I do like some contact. What was I thinking, arriving at 8am when it's completely isolated, dead-quite and absolutely freezing?

When I picked up Julian today, I brought Katrina in with me, and she immediately lit up with all the kids around her, going right into the crowd and demanding some little truck. She looks so tiny compared to the other kids, and they immediately swarm her, but she's not in the least bit fazed. I forget that toddlers could be until other parents or teachers exclaim "wow, she's not at all intimidated." (She does cling to me once a week though: when we first arrive at Music Together, inexplicably.)

I still should do my due diligence about finding other childcare for her, and possibly for Julian, but inertia tugs strongly, and I really like the lady who takes care of the little ones at Julian's school. Oh, the very idea of having her and Julian only 3 minutes from home -- 10 if I walked. Walked! What a contrast to Melissa's. For me, anyway. Katrina loves Melissa. (Here she is happily reading a book there today.)


Is life turning around? A migraine held at bay yesterday by a single Prontalgine. Work actually interesting. Drastically improved childcare commute on the horizon. A major step in my back/foot troubles. And a new awesome hip-hop music-cranking Zumba teacher!

4/22/08