Tonight

All day, I had an idea of what I would do with the quiet part of my evening once the toddler feeding, bathing, and bedding were complete--I was either going to work on the basement portion of "the great shuffle" that will be going on in our house throughout the next few months to get LG's big boy room ready, or I was going to work on some (non-post) bloggy stuff I need to do.

But the evening played out differently. I was able to pick up LG from daycare a little earlier than normal, and it started storming right as we pulled in the driveway (he was thrilled at the opportunity to use the umbrella, or "la" as he calls it). It was so dark inside the house that I turned a lamp on. We played with his cars, and he helped me get dinner ready.

During dinner, I realized that these days of just him and I, so simple--no working on projects or running to the hardware store like when his dad is home, but an easy meal, a brief task like watering the garden or taking out the trash, bath, and bedtime--are numbered. Soon we will have to navigate a whole new routine that meets the physical needs of an infant and the emotional needs of a toddler.

While I was rocking quietly in LG's darkened room as he settled down into his crib, I was at peace, and decided I was just going to clean up the kitchen and go to bed. You see, AD had been home the two days prior, and kept me up on feet well into the night working on plans and designs for the garden and basement. And to be honest, I've been sleeping much better when I have the whole bed to myself. Finally, yesterday was the first time I can definitively say that I felt this new baby move, and it moved over and over again throughout the evening, as if to assure me of it's presence. 

So tonight, I will put my plans aside, and hopefully drift off into a long sleep to the tappings of this little one.

100%

I know I've shared some things before about how AD's profession as a pilot affects our lives (if you want to read about it, click on the "life of a wife of a pilot" label to the right). While I'm not about to do a full out post about the ins and outs of being a pilot's wife, I had a realization today that I want to record.

AD and LG have been visiting AD's family this week, and I have had a bit of free time (which could have been a bit better structured--but hey, I'm pregnant, so what my mind wants to do and what my body will do are two very different things). One of the things I've done with my single girl time is watch a couple of chick flicks. Today I browsed new releases and picked "Friends with Kids," mostly because it had Maya Rudolph and Kristen Wiig in it, and also because it was a comedy about people in their 30's with kids. The storyline is basically that a gal and guy who are BFs decide to have a baby together because the clock is ticking and neither have found the one. And, you guessed it, they realize they're in love with each other and end up together. But not before one realizes it before the other and they spend some time apart.

At first, the friends-with-a-kid-but-not-romantically-involved thing seems to be working really well for the friends, especially regarding mundane, everyday life. When the female protagonist tells the male protagonist that she wants to be a real family, he's not ready. So they spend their time apart, and in the last scene when he's winning her back, he tells her that they were wrong in thinking that they would raise a kid together [as friends] so they could still have the "romantic part" separately, but that he realized that the raising a kid together was the romantic part.

And in a lot of ways, I agree. Mundane, everyday life, and being a family is romantic to me. So I was thinking about what everyday life is like for AD and I. I work Monday through Friday, and he works Thursday/Friday through Monday/Tuesday, so my weekend is Saturday and Sunday, and his is Tuesday through Thursday(ish). There isn't a regular day (or two) when one of us isn't waking up to an alarm and going to work. We don't get to wake up together and spend the whole day together.

I get him after he's worked four days with very little sleep. He gets me after I've been up and worked eight hours. I've been saying lately (though not to him, at least in a direct manner) that AD is going to run me ragged, because when I get home after work he wants to work together to make some progress on projects--this summer it's been the garden box, compost container, basement shelving, etc. While I'm so thankful to have a husband who wants to spend time with me and has the motivation of the Energizer bunny, all this pregnant lady really wants to do after work is have dinner, have some playtime with the kid before he goes to bed, do a load of wash or something low key, and go to bed.

And while I am happy and our life works--Logan usually only has to go to daycare three days a week and we each get two days off with him, we get three/four days each week when we spend as much after-work time together as we can--I can't help but think that I want to wake up and be with them all day. I want to wake up and give them 100% of myself, not what's left over after eight hours of work, because I love them so much and they deserve it. 

I am not saying that anything needs to change; I'm just sharing this realization, and this longing in my heart.

LG the bookworm

If you've ever spent time with a toddler, you have likely experienced the moment when you realize that it's been a while since you been pulled away from the task at hand, and your child is very quiet. Luckily for me, lately when these moments strike while LG and I are upstairs, I can usually find him in his room like this: 

And then one night after LG had gone to his room while I was rinsing out the bathtub, I found him like this:

I had even told AD that LG's reading habit afforded me an extra 20 minutes of dozing one Saturday morning. 

And then this past Thursday AD and I were both up and getting ready for work. I came upstairs from the shower, and no sooner had I sat down to dry my hair did LG start screaming in his room. So I got up and went to open his bedroom door, but was met with some resistance--it was LG! 

I started freaking out, thinking my glorious days of toddler-containment were over because he had finally climbed out of his crib. Thank God AD told me a few minutes later that he had put LG in his reading chair to see if he could get a few more zzzz's (but failed to turn on the lamp for him--Dads!). 

 

'round here

Here are some snapshots from the start of our day, which I would say was a typical Saturday for LG and I. 

He woke up at 5-something in the morning, which is not typical; I can usually count on him to sleep at least until 7 am. Considering he has not been napping at daycare and this night's rest was the foundation for which we'd be building our weekend on, I said uh-uh. I rocked him for a bit and then let him cry his way back to sleep. He woke up for good around 9am, crying for me to come in.

Of course, when I came in, he didn't actually want to get out of his crib. He wanted to hand me all of his babies (his blanket, his lovey, his turtle, his Hess truck, his Scout, his owl, his two favorite books). He wanted to hold on to the rail of his crib and jump on the mattress. He wanted to grab the curtains that go across his closet and wrap himself up in them. He wanted drop back down to the mattress and go nigh-nigh.

I opened the shade and light was gorgeous, so I went downstairs to get my camera. This is the face I returned to, and this set does a pretty good job of showing LG's progression from tantrum to okay in 6 minutes: 

 

 

The rest of our day was about the same; beautifully sunny with sprinkles of toddlerhood. Hope you had a great day and the sun was shining wherever you are.

Saturday

Saturday mornings with my son are the best. 

As I mentioned in my last (first!) post, my husband is an airline pilot, for which scheduling is based on seniority (his low), so he basically works every weekend and will be for some time. That's a definite bummer, a) because unless I take a day or days off of work (which is a typical 40-hour, 8-to-5 gig) we don't get to spend the day together, much less go camping, which is one of our favorite things to do, and b) with the exception of my parents, our neighbors, or a babysitter, I don't really get a break from our son on the weekends. I will add here that my parents are a huge exception and that I am very lucky blessed to have a generally well-behaved child; however, as with any child, there are times when the little guy can be really clingy, and there are also times once I've put him to bed that I would love to leave the house (take a walk, run up to the grocery store for some ice cream, etc) but can't.

Anyway, LG (for the purposes of this blog, that's what I'll call my son for now, as I haven't yet decided how much specific personal information I want to share) and I have fallen into a nice Saturday morning routine. He wakes up sometime between 7 and 8:30am and is generally in a good mood while he's still in his crib. Unfortunately, once out of his crib, either on his changing table or underfoot in the kitchen while I'm getting breakfast together, he is not happy. Much like his mother, food is very important to him and he's not very pleasant to be around when he's hungry. I just try and get through that part as fast as I can.

Once fed, LG and I move to the living room, where I can lay on the couch and drift in and out of sleep and play. I usually stay up way too late on Friday nights, either working on a project, ambling around the internet (which my delayed discovery of Pinterest has not helped), or meticulously cleaning something insignificant (instead of cleaning something significant, like my house in general). Luckily, if I'm in the same room, LG will now keep himself busy, and I can doze a little, waking now and then to give him a kiss, play cars, or examine his wooden play food as needed.

There may also be some brief household tasks, such as loading the dishwasher or putting away laundry during this time. Then LG has lunch, and then he takes a nap. Simple. 

This morning there was bustle outside, as this weekend is our neighborhood's annual garage sale, which is a pretty big deal around here. I had originally been planning on putting LG in the stroller and spending our Saturday morning walking and browsing the neighborhood, but AD (which is what I'll call my husband for now) had a contractor coming over mid-morning. This obligation, coupled with the fact that I already had plans for the afternoon and Sunday, meant I was not going to get to go a-saling. 

When I originally started this post, it was going to be about how refraining from going to the garage sales was the right thing to do, as I reasoned that my time and effort would be better spent going through my own home and gathering things I no longer want/need to put in the upcoming sale at my grandmother's house, which would create space and funds (both of which I don't have a surplus of right now) to go garage-saling (or just shopping!) later.

However.

I think a little part of me dies when I know there's an opportunity I'm missing. I'm not talking about opportunity in the context of career or education; I'm talking mostly about garage and mom-to-mom sales and concerts. When a band or musician that I love is in town, but I can't go to the concert (which is basically always, as I'm too cheap to buy the tickets and pay a babysitter, and get slightly annoyed by having to drive across- or down-town) I will mope for a week. Just to get it out of my system, the Avett Brothers were in town last night, and The Shins will be in town in two weeks. I'm actually relieved that I will be out of town the week of 4th of July, because then I won't be so sad about not going to see Brandi Carlile or Death Cab for Cutie. I mini-mope for a good garage or mom-to-mom sale. I imagine all of the other shoppers unearthing hard-to-find items and getting them for a song, and I can't stand it. 

So...

While LG was down for his nap, I may have gone to the eight or so garage sales that are within half a block from our house. I might have gotten two sets of foam tiles for the basement bunker project, two funnels for the water table project (I will detail these projects later, I promise) and a beautiful pot for my peace lily.

I'll leave you with some Avett Brother's lyrics, since I am still in mourning. They're a little ironic, considering much of this post talks about how I mini-mope when I miss a shopping opportunity; however, the second verse is a good reminder:

"I am sick of wanting and it's evil how it's got me
And every day is worse than the one before
The more I have the more I think I'm almost where I need to be
If only I could get a little more

A need for something, now let me break it down again
A need for something but not more medicine

Something has me, oh something has me
Acting like someone I don't wanna be
Something has me, oh something has me
Acting like someone I know isn't me
Ill with want and poisoned by this ugly greed

Temporary is my time, ain't nothing on this world that's mine
Except the will I found to carry on
Free is not your right to chose
It's answering what's asked of you
To give the love you find until it's gone"

-The Avett Brothers