Lest I Forget...

...I need to write down a few quotes from today.
And yes, I'm hopelessly behind on my Blog...lost in the holiday fog, really.
But the following things were said by my boys today, and I have to record them.

They are both such different creatures and never cease to amaze me.
And make me laugh.

This morning while working on his USA puzzle, Benjamin says "What's North Dakota?"
I say, "Well, it's a state...and..." (struggling to find something of significance to say about it)
Benjamin cuts in with "Well, it looks nice to me...and I think I would like to go there."

Um, ok.
Get right on that.

Reading one of Jonny's new Wiggles books to him and realizing I haven't spent as much time teaching him colors/shapes as I did with Benjamin at this age.
I get to the part in the book where it says, "Look at Murray, he loves the color red! He wears a red shirt and black pants. Can you name the shapes next to Murray in the picture?" I emphasize the question part with a giant, expectant grin on my face and look at Jonathan.

Jonny looks at me and smiles and shouts "Pants!"

Loved it.:)

And just a bit ago, I had Jonathan sitting in front of me and we were "zooming" cars back and forth with Benjamin, who was sitting across from us. When Jonny pushed the car and sent it off in the exact wrong direction, Benjamin immediately blurted out "Jonny, you're not doing it right."
But within miliseconds, he looks up at me and softens his tone dramatically and says, almost in a high-pitched voice, "It's ok, Jonny...you're just learning. You'll get it soon!"

Holy proud mom.
That last one was easily my favorite moment of the day...and for obvious reasons. Just love his little sensitive soul...and the kindness. He's learning how to be kind.
Obviously I know he says things like this to his brother for my benefit...because I'm right there watching...but I'll take it. I just unload my usual heaps of praise for that kind of attitude and hope it somehow sticks.

Time to go break up the fight over one of the new Thomas trains...

One day at at time, I guess.:)

On the Same Page

We (parents, anyway) are all-too familiar with the importance of this with our spouse when raising children.

Well, today was not what I'd call Benjamin's best day.
And preschool pickup was not even close to what I'd call his best moment at school.
But I'll save that for another post.

All I need, all I feel the immediate urgency to share, is just how seriously my husband is taking this whole "same page" thing we talked about (under our breath) at dinner. Not that this was the first time we'd broached the subject, mind you...rather today's version of reinforcing the importance of it.
You get it.

Not two minutes ago, I'm kneeling down at Benjamin's level, at the bottom of our stairs...where he has just sat for three minutes (and cried and whined) for throwing a block at his brother's head. Brian is upstairs getting the bath ready for the boys, Jonny is recovering from his wounds in the TV room...and I am giving Benjamin my very BRIEF "why are you here?" and "this is where you'll land next time it happens" speech.

Benjamin is sucking on his fingers (unexplainable, gross new habit he's developed for moments of nervousness---including in front of the church last Sunday, but I digress) and listening to me, his eyes looking at the ground...my face butt-serious, my voice not angry, but direct and unflinching.

That is, until I notice a tall figure walking across the top of the stairs, ever so casually...with his pants around his ankles.
Biggest "I'm a pretty f***ing funny guy" expression on his face.

"What, Mommy?" Benjamin says...noticing it might just be party time: aka--"Mommy's not mad anymore".

"Nothing, Benjamin" I say...adding, for emphasis, "absolutely nothing up there."

Anyone ever tries to tell you their husband's "totally on the same page" with them, they're lying through their teeth.
Either that, or I'm married to a 12 year old.

Just in the mood for some pictures.

Uncle Bill charmed his way right into the boys' hearts over TDay break...was so cute.
Benjamin with Muma at the Holiday Tree Festival

Me with Jonathan on the Gingerbread Express...wayyy too many funny things going on in this pic, the most hilarious being how excited I am...and how non-plussed that baby in front of me is...ok, wait...there are just too many...

I am sure. Benjamin praying during Grandpa's "grace" before the meal.

Jonny at home...with his gluten-free spaghetti...he loves it.

I've been tagged...

...and need to somehow come up with 6 interesting things about myself as a result.

Hmmm.
I love a list.
And of course I just love writing in general...
However, it is Monday night...so I'm not promising these two things will merge all that well.

Nevertheless, I am so honored to have been tagged by a good buddy...so here goes:

1. I whistle backwards (if you don't get it, you'll have to ask...I'm not about to write out the words--I'll catch major flack from my sick-minded husband).

2. I know what the Disney Tunnels look like (and as a result, Minnie without her character head, smoking a cigarette at a pay phone).

3. Dracula is one of my favorite novels.

4. I received the Loyola President's Medallion for the School of Ed in 2000...and I guess it's just one of those things I'm super proud of...but the best part might be that my best friend Gaby (who worked in the Dean's office) told me ahead of time I'd won, while we waited in a doctor's waiting room on a Saturday morning.

5. I knew I'd marry Brian on our second date.

6. I once rehabbed a Cabrini Green apartment...but now am afraid of mice in my own house.

Ok.
So the following people are now being tagged by me!

* My brother Chris
* My good friend Dina
* Margo (whom I adore for introducing me to Anusara Yoga...and her maccaroons--sp?)
* Ann (my sis in law)
* Mike (whom I adore for his insane loyalty)
* Dawn (whom I adore for so many reasons--the least of which are the many hilarious expressions I've adopted from her, and who doesn't have a Blog...but I know she's reading and dammit--you need to get one, D!)

Ok...you've got your marching orders, friends (do I sound like John McCain, my friends?)...now go forth and make my list look bad!

S.A.D.

Seasonal Affective Disorder.
I think I might have this.

As long as I can remember I've loved winter...for the many ways to have fun in the snow, the holidays (of course!), the sweaters and jeans...and just for how picturesque it is. How it makes me want to read more, cook more, drink hot cocoa more, and even organize my house more.

Lately, however, I've been suffering from a mild case of warm-weather-withdrawal. And I've got several reasons for this, but the greatest of these is the simple outdoor time with my kids. I miss it. I miss it in the morning, when we have an hour to kill and we can't go walking on "the trail". I miss it after lunch, when I can't send the boys in the backyard while I clean up the kitchen. I miss it in the afternoon, when I can't sit on the front stoop and read (or usually, talk on the phone) while the boys nap...but oh...oh...how I miss it at that truly special time of day: the pre-dinner hour.
Holy crap, friends. It's killing me.

On a lovely warm weather day, my wee ones--hard-wired with the rambunctious and crazy chromosome--play happily outside with a random assortment of neighbor friends. And even though I'm chasing them up and down the street in my flip-flops, we're all happy because we're breathing fresh air. And the scenery has changed.
But lately, lately...well, yeah. Not so much.

Lately they're spending their time running around the main floor, creating new and sometimes dangerous obstacle courses around the first floor of the house. And I certainly haven't seen the whites of my neighbors eyes in weeks (this makes me particularly sad, being the social creature that I am), and no...no...I'm not wearing my flip-flops.
Major sad.
Not even to Yoga class.

As mentioned, what bothers me the most is the social bit. I miss the random conversations with neighbors, the sharing of stories from that day's craziness with fellow moms in the neighborhood, the impromptu plans that are often made just by being out and about among neighbors...but mostly, just watching my boys run around and get all red-faced and sweaty from the outdoor fun. I really miss that. I miss (believe it or not!) having to give them baths every night because their little bodies are grass-stained and covered in dirt. And I miss the daylight that we have, whether we venture outside again at night...or just enjoy the fact that it's light out.

Seriously, I think I might have that thing they call Seasonal Affective Disorder.
And if I didn't have it before, I surely have it since moving to this neighborhood...and more importanly, having kids.

But.
There is a but (and no, not the one on my posterior--which, ok, randomly? is not fitting the same in my jeans after all these months of Yoga...but anyway).
What I'd like to mention now...at the end of my tirade on the woes of winter...is how special it's finally becoming, now that we're fully immersed in it.

This morning, for example, just getting the boys all geared up from head to toe in their snow suits and watching them walk like zombies (Jonny's the funniest...PLG boots are Benjamin's hand me downs and a bit too big) out into the snow. And as I type, they are helping their neighbor friend (yes, we still seem to make contact) build a snow fort. It's so much fun to watch...and every now and then Brian walks over and dumps snow on them from the shovel, sending them all into hysterics.
In an hour or so we're on our way to get our Christmas tree...and the boys (especially Benjamin) are out-of-their-mind excited (I want to officially patent that phrase for all things Christmas-related with children) about decorating it.
Tonight we have our annual Christmas Road Rally with the neighborhood...which the Millers and we are co-hosting this year. We've spent a lot of time putting it together, including one late night over beers thinking up ways to raise the bar on the creative and hilarious factor of the event. As our beloved neighborhood mayor (known as Ted Oostendorp) said at one of our last summer gatherings--"Ok guys, we've got to plan some events for wintertime...otherwise we won't see eachother!"
And while this sentiment might seem a bit ridiculous to some, it's not to me. Or, I'll venture to say, to any of my neighbors. Or really to anyone who can relate. It's just important to find ways to maintain the sense of neighborliness (did I really just use that word? shoot me now.)...or you go insane.

So, I guess...I'll submit. I'll give in to this winter thing.
I might even enjoy it.
I'll miss the random drop-ins of friends (one favorite suddenly comes to mind---Maureen riding up our driveway on her Pee Wee Herman style bike on a Sunday afternoon, on her way home from Rite Aid, where she rode to get a bottle of gin for that night's BBQ at the Millers...and popped her head into our mudroom door with the following statement: "You guys are going to Megan and Brian's later, right? And holy s**t...did you see that f***ing McCain/Palin sign up in the new neighbor's yard? Seriously, Meg...can you get me an Obama sign now for our yard? Better yet, get me two!" ......and with that, she hops back on her bike and pedals home around the block).

But here's to tonight's festivities.
Here's to the hilarious prizes I found last night at World Market.
And here's to the holiday cheer and fun in the snow with kids...

And to Maureen, who'll be at the party.:)

Jonathan Christopher...

As long as you live, you may never fully comprehend just how in love with you I am...and have been from day one.

But as long as I live, I'll surely never comprehend what makes you tick. You have, no doubt, thrown me some curve-balls in your first two years...and with each one, I become a better mommy. Of this I am certain.

But lately, Jonathan? Lately?

You're killing me.

And I'm not referring to your antics during meals, your destruction of your brother's toys, your obsession with "buttons!" (but only the ones on our DVD player, stereo or computer)...no, I am not referring to the many ways in which you make me scramble on a given day.

I'm talking specifically about what you've been cookin up at night.

And by "night" I mean any time between the hours of 1 and 5am.

Of course, I get the fact that you're cutting your molars...and that most kids, at different stages of development, go through nighttime wakings. But most of these kids, Jonathan, are suffering from some kind of bad dream, sickness, or just your run-of-the-mill mommy separation.

Not you, though. Not even a sore gum or two could be causing your latest adventures. Why am I certain of this? Because not once, in the past few weeks (oh shit, maybe it's even months) have you:

1. cried for mommy

2. been visibly sick/ had a fever

3. been the least bit troubled at all

However, you have been fairly consistent with the following:

1. climbing out of your crib

2. playing with random toys in your room

3. climbing into and sitting quietly in the bathtub

4. bum-rushing your brother's bed and throwing yourself on top of him...thus waking the world's LEAST RECEPTIVE 3 year old to sleep interruption

5. sitting in your glider chair and singing...and lately, counting (we're proud of this new skill, but not at 4 in the morning, big guy)

6. and my favorite, as of last night: sitting in your blue Thomas chair in the middle of the kitchen.

I am glad, Jonathan, that you are not sick or going through some sort of emotional ordeal. For this, I am surely grateful. But for the love of God, my sweet boy...WHAT is happening during your slumber that says to you--"This shit's gettin old...gonna go see what's happenin round here..."??????

And I love the independence, I really do. The fact that I've found you in/involved with items 1 through 6 is evidence enough of your independent spirit. Not once have your daddy and I seen the whites of your eyes peering at us in our bed, asking for attention.

But by now I'm past the point of concern or worry...or even sheer frustration.

I'm just f***ing tired.

Tired.

Exhausted.

Spent.

And also kind of amazed. And...ok...giggling a bit on the inside (though I'll NEVER let on).

But mostly?

I'm just really, really tired.

Don't cry over spilled milkshake.

Today we went out for lunch with my mom, right after preschool.
Both boys were in rare form. Jonathan was on a music-high from Miss Michelle's class (and pure lack of sleep adrenalin--ask me bout THAT madness later), and Benjamin was all hopped up on post-preschool giddyness.

Both boys have milkshakes...which spells trouble, no matter what. But just when I decide not to watch Benjamin with his chocolate shake--sans lid or straw--he reaches for the ginormous menu off the table and knocks the whole shake over...spilling across the table, and into my mom's and my lap. She and I quickly react, cleaning it up, and I say "Benjamin...honey...you've got to watch what you're doing!"....and here's HIS reaction, totally non-plussed, totally hidden behind the menu and studying it closely:
"Hmm...sorry, guys. I just had to see what was on the menu here."

Sorry, guys? You've got to be kidding me...I want to burst out laughing, but don't. My mom and I just stare with big eyes at eachother and try not to laugh.

Waitress comes over and asks if we need more napkins, which is when Benjamin decides to peer out of one side of the menu (picture Ward Cleaver, saying something to "The Beav" while reading the paper) and says to the waitress, in his ever-famous and hilarious drawl:
"Yeah...I kinda made a mess there. But they're cleaning it up. We got it."

Loved it.
Not the world's best behavior from a 3 year old in a restaurant, but you gotta give him points for style. And besides, I blame the spillage skillz on his daddy.
That one had Brian's name written ALL over it.

Meanwhile, Jonathan's face is so submerged into his cup of vanilla milkshake, that there's a ring around his face when he pulls it away...gap-toothed grin, huge laugh...and sheer delight in his ice cream treat.
That one had his MOMMY written all over it.:)

Not a Bad Monday

*Random free coffee at Bigby's! (spread the word--they give one out once a day to an unknowing recipient)

*Jonathan asking me in a complete sentence, "Mommeee? Isss dinna red-eee?"
(Last night after playing with the babysitters at church during youth group...he announced to me, "Mommee...I have fun at chawwch!"

*Dentist forgot to send stickers home (for the boys) with me at my checkup last week...so mailed them to Benjamin. He got them in the mail today, with his name on them. Loved that.:)


Anyway...had to share.
Brian leaves for the rest of the week, will be in San Francisco.....sigh....time to rock it out.

A Referendum on Relationships

If only I were gay... I'd have married my best friend Gaby years ago.

Ok, so this is a bit of an odd way to begin a post...but the idea came to me--well, to both of us--over a recent phone conversation. And before I go on, I must thank you, Gabs--if you're reading--for one of the best chats I've had in a long time...and I don't need to explain why. My gratitude for you and the kind of friend you've been to me since the day we met is unending...thanks for being who you are.
And since I know certain dudes are wondering (Christopher? Shawn?)---the answer is No. I'm not about to make out with Gaby. Not at all. Though I dare say her hugs are far and away superior to those of my husband's. But anyway...

It's impossible for most men to understand the closeness of a girlfriend...but what I think they truly underestimate, is just how necessary that friendship is to our survival. We--and I speak for anyone who may agree here--love you, dear husbands...but there are just certain things you'll never be able to appreciate.

For example, the need to be noticed. Appreciated. It's not that my husband is necessarily bad at these things...it's just that certain close friends of mine, and family members, are far better at it. A friend who writes a thank you note for a gathering at your house...a sister-in-law who goes out of her way to always write back (almost always within minutes, I swear) with "comments" after you send out pictures...a friend who always notices your ass in your jeans and isn't afraid to say so (LOL)...a mom who swoops in and takes one of your kids for the afternoon without even asking, knowing full-well how close you were to the edge of insanity that particular day...or a brother (getting special mention in a list of chicks, here) who doesn't hold back the "proud of you" statements after you've poured your heart and soul into something.
I guess we all just want to be seen by others, don't we?
And let me clarify: by this I don't mean seen in a way that makes us the center of attention, or that praises us unneccessarily for something we've done...or that enables a sense of neediness or insecurity on our part.
What I mean is the feeling that somebody gets you. That they understand your intentions, simply because they have taken the time to get who you are. That they grant you the benefit of the doubt in any situation, based on the context of knowing where your heart is. That they absorb the meaningful things you say to them...the gestures you make...and remember them, even when they're unsure of where you're coming from sometimes.
That they are listening...aware...engaged.

I say this, because, I've been adrift lately.
Lost, even.
And some days, drowning in my own self-induced chaos. Struggling (physically and emotionally) to somehow prioritize the things, and more importantly, people that need my attention...when my kids seem to drain every last ouce of energy and focus I have each day.
But I haven't stopped being aware of who the important people are in my life. If anything, I've become more acutely aware of their presence...in new and eye-opening ways...and in other ways, aware of the places where I falsely imagined real, true understanding.
I wonder if anyone else ever goes through this...?
It's almost as though the person you perceive to have let you down isn't even at fault. You are. I think we've all experienced this, whether it be with old college friends, members of our extended family, our friends of "life circumstance", etc....once in a while you realize you've given someone too much credit for really understanding you...while in other cases, you realize that someone you never imagined got you, really does.

I worry a lot. Way too much, in fact.
Lately, I've been operating under this dark cloud of guilt for not being in touch with the people I love the most. I want to talk to my brother Jon so much more than I seem to have time for...and I worry that he isn't equipped to understand the complexities of my daily life--or rather, LACK of time. But then I wind up feeling like a total jackass for doubting his inability to get the place I'm in. Because even though he hasn't a clue what it's like to walk in my shoes...he continually and unselfishly grants me the benefit of the doubt.
Same with Gaby. She is the other person I've been aching to be in better touch with...and yet not once has she been impatient with me or jumped to irrational conclusions as to where my priorities are.
And this list isn't limited to my brother and my best friend...I am beyond grateful for so many people in my life, particularly when I realize just how much they're willing to forgive in return for my own shortcomings. A good friend who gives me the chance to share just how busy and crazed I've been with my kids, and only offers more support and friendship in return (love you, D.W.)...a cousin who insists on finding consensus on our political opinions in a compassionate way...a brother who, after I leave an apologetic message about being unavailable on his voicemail, leaves me a message with nothing but Coming to America movie quotes and makes me piss myself while driving...or a husband, who just quietly listens while I bawl and rant away, and never...not even for a second...loses composure. He just listens.

These people...all of them...they get you.
And if they don't, they want to and are trying.

Ughh. Not really sure where I'm going with this.

I just know that relationships in general have been on my mind a lot lately...my own ability (or lack thereof) to maintain them the way I'd like, as well as the overall health of my expectations.
I suppose it's all begun with my own increased awareness of self and how I relate to others.
Yoga maybe? I know a lot of it comes from my practice and meditation during class, for sure. It's the only time I am truly afforded the opportunity to go deep and reflect...and analyze. I suppose that's why I've been having revelations left and right lately. A kind of "teasing out" of priorities, intentions, expectations, etc.

That's where I feel like I am lately.
Nothing earth shattering or on the level of epiphany...but just a slow whittling away of the stuff that isn't real or authentic at all, but rather a product of my own "projection". I've been bad about this as long as I can remember...placing too much stock in someone or something...and being devastated when things aren't as I once imagined them to be.
Perhaps I'm just in a nesting phase. And no, I'm not pregnant. Maybe it should be called cleaning house...emotional catharsis...or even more simply, and most accurately in my case, an allout breakdown. And not the lying face-down on the kitchen floor, drool coming out of the corner of my mouth kind...actually, the image is much more uplifting. It's the kind of emotional fallout that leads one to introspection, re-aligning of priorities and relationships, and an overall sense of inner wellness and renewal.

I know, I know...cue the sanskrit chanting CDs and dim the lights...
But I rather imagine it's a phase we all go through from time to time.

So, for what it's worth.
That's where I am right now.

For weeks I've struggled with how to keep up better with so many things...and this blog is one of them. And so while my catharsis might not be very articulate or at all decipherable...it's finally out there. Outside of my head, written down.
The best and most time-tested way I know to work through shit.

A Week Ago Today!

For some reason these uploaded in reverse order...because the last picture is from the beginning of the day--me with my voter registration card. So proud that morning. And a little teary when I walked out of Wealthy Elementary after voting...I'll never forget it!

The election party was truly a memorable gathering, for so many reasons. For now I'll just leave you with the pictures. Not much else I can say that hasn't been felt by so many others already.

A night to remember!

(oh, and the kissy shot was supposed to be last...and titled "Obama Wins!!!")

On the Eve of Change

I have some things I feel like saying...or writing down, rather.

Always a fan of a good metaphor, here's mine for today: I am in labor.

I say this for several reasons...one, there's no doubt that I've been carrying a heavy load around the past several months. And as with both pregnancies I've endured, there has surely been a great deal of physical burden, but even more so--an emotional one. But mostly, it's been pure magic. Complete exhilaration, marvel and total empowerment.
And yes, at many times an experience wrought with fear and panic.

But today--tonight, really--as I stare Election Day in the face...I am oddly enough in the same exact state I was when I went into labor: the picture of calm.
Okay, so with Jonathan it kinda helped that I was getting a pedicure at the time...but you get the idea. The amount of angst, preparation and sheer excitement that predicated the event itself was in sharp contrast to the serious calm and focus I felt when the time came.
Such is how I feel tonight.

And I guess what I want to write most about tonight isn't that I'm so proud of myself for not blowing a gasket by now (because let's be honest, I still have 24 hours and the polls haven't even opened yet...), but rather the fact that after all of these months of devouring, pouring over and ultimately getting involved in this election, the thing I'm proud most of isn't the result. It's the process. Always...the process.
This is why I wanted to write this post tonight. Because regardless of tomorrow's outcome, my feelings about being involved in this current election are real...and unattached to any result. Of course I'm hoping Barack wins...OF COURSE I am...but if he doesn't, it won't make me any less proud of the weeks I've spent putting myself out there in the discourse and momentum of the campaign. It won't make me regret any time I spent making phone calls, talking to complete strangers about something so intimately personal to me, standing in long lines just to see a candidate or political figure...and it sure as hell won't make me ashamed or regretful of the way I've allowed this election to transform me.

Brian likes to say that it's just how I am...that it's virtually impossible for me to harbor an opinion on something and not share it. And he's right. But what even he didn't understand until the last few months, is that this particular "cause" has been unlike any other I've encountered. Sure, I have opinions on a whole range of topics...and rare is the occasion that I keep them private.
But it's not often that a moment in history becomes personal for me. It's not often, in this moment-to-moment life I lead that I find anything happening outside the realm of immediate family as relevant.
And it's not often that a political figure inspires me to not only believe in my own ability to affect change...but even more significantly, to call upon my civic responsibility to make it happen.

Perhaps the most difficult aspect of this process for me has been dispelling misperceptions...and not just of my candidate, but of myself. My demographic. My intentions.
Some people think that young people such as myself get involved because we're still young and idealistic. To such people I would ask the following: "How can you blame me for the former and expect anything less than the later?"

Another notion some have is that "moms" like me are just bored, that we need a hobby...and that getting involved in politics is just something to do with all of our spare time.
I'm not even going to go there on this one.

Wait, yes I am.
To these f**knuts I would ask the following: "Have you met my kids?!? What exactly do you consider spare time? Because I wouldn't know it if it hit me square between the loads of laundry and dishes and fights over toys and sprints down the block after my two year old who just figured out the child-protected door handle and is now running half naked down my street..."
I'd also show this person my family budget...how tight it is...and ask them to consider my paying for a babysitter while my husband's traveling, just to go and volunteer my time to the campaign.

But I think the worst misconception of all is one that any of us with a political opinion faces...that we are somehow too close to it all...or investing too much of our attention and emotional well-being in something that is beyond our reach or control. It's the same argument, I feel, that suggests it's somehow possible for teachers and social workers to not take their work home with them at the end of the day.
It's impossible.
And you know why? Because the minute you decide to even give a shit about any of it, is the minute you promise yourself to its cause. The very reasons you have for committing your time to seeing it through are so closely linked to who you are, that they aren't even separate from you. They're your true nature.

I've often talked with Brian about my philosophy courses from college. There were two that I'll never forget, largely for the impact that the professors had on me. But one particular "philosopher" always comes up when I find myself in a conversation with Brian about causes...how we relate to them, and how we know when our passion for them is real. His name was Foucault, and it's impossible for me to summarize the theories and ideas of his that made a lasting impression on me. But one notion of his will always remain when I think of any kind of activism...or volunteer work, if you will. It's the idea that having passion for and attachment to any kind of cause or movement is, in itself, real. But by placing yourself squarely in the midst of its energy and intent, you are claiming it as part of yourself.

So to anyone who is curious as to why I've placed such importance on this current election, I might offer the following: "It's personal."

But to my children...my boys...I will one day ask them to look not at the outcome of this presidential race, but rather the process...and hopefully know something important about their mom for having placed herself squarely in the center of it.

A Blog for my Blog

I need one of these, for real.
A place to jot down all of the little moments that happen throughout the day...the observations that are touching and thought-provoking. And then, of course, the over-arching themes that tie it all together. I need an actual, separate blog meant just for these thoughts. That way, when I find myself with actual "time"...I have them ready.
I love when I can come up with ways to string together all of the bits of randomness in my life...or even better, when I can find the alone time to just really write about the best parts of my day. Because that's why I started this blog in the first place--to create a space for the authentic and honest--and often hilarious--moments and observations of my life to be chronicled. Mostly I just want to look back and remember them in all of their vivid messiness.

But lately?
I don't seem to have the time.
Or attention span, maybe. I'm less disciplined with my blogging...and even more with my own train of thought.
Perhaps I'm suffering from a bit of ADD...I wouldn't rule it out, anyway. Especially with what I know about "environment" and its affect on the attention span.
It wouldn't take an educational scholar to figure out why my focus is a bit...oh, how shall we say, EFFED up these days. Just look in the next room--one boy jumping on the train table while he launches trains into the air...the other boy coloring on the floor underneath the train table (wait--it's not as good as it sounds) and TIRELESSLY peppering me with questions about the colors, pictures, nature of and overall meaning embedded within the page of his coloring book.

What I'd like is to be able to effectively convey what this scene tells me about my children...that one, with all of his CHINESE WATER TORTURE-STYLE questions, is likely going to love Philosophy as much as me.
And the other one, with all of his...his....not sure what to call it yet....is nothing like his mom or dad. Except when he squirms and giggles when you snuggle him...that's got his mommy written all over it.

Sadly, though, I seem to struggle with my blog. I see it, hear it even, in my head all the time...but then I open up the link on my computer screen and all I see lately is pictures. And the random "list"--a real favorite of mine...clever, observational, and often funny...but always a mere stand-in for actual thought and substance.

Honestly.
I suck at this.

Time to go clean up milk that has just been squirted out of a sippy all over a sofa chair...and is now dripping onto the carpet*.
I'm so not kidding.

* denotes things that can and always will happen while I blog...five feet away.

Some recent faves!

Can you tell I'm procrastinating writing in my blog?

The Secret Life of Boys

Yesterday I saw one of the best movies I've seen in a long time...well, who am I kidding--I hardly ever GO to movies! But for what it's worth, "The Secret Life of Bees" is definitely worth seeing. And no, I have not read the book...and in some ways was able to imagine the parts in the movie where more subtext would've made it that much more meaningful...but in the end, I suppose I was blissfully unaware.

A great movie.

I highly recommend.

As for my boys, well...the following happened as I was giving them baths before bedtime last night:

(both boys playing happily in the tub while I wash my face and straighten up the bathroom)

Benjamin: "Jonny, watch! Do this!!" (B proceeds to stand up in tub and begin smacking his belly, dangerously close to the goods, with the greatest of vigor)

Jonathan: "Ha, ha...okayy!" (copies B, and hilarity between the two of them immediately ensues...they are both whackin away at their junk and laughing hysterically)

Me (feeling a bit intrusive all of a sudden): "Ok..." (and with that I leave the room to fold laundry in bedroom for a minute, where I begin to overhear the rest...)

Benjamin: "Jonny, if you want to get clean and all soapy you have to get sit...ok, Jonny? You have to sit down."

Jonathan: "Nnnno!"

Benjamin: *yelling* "Mommmeeee! Jonny hit me!!"

Me (at door of bathroom again): "Jonathan, keep your hands to yourself, Buddy...and Benjamin, don't order him around so much!" (all very effective, as usual)

Benjamin: "Jonny, you can't hit me...ok, Jonny? You can't hit. That's what I'm telling you." (Benjamin repeats this statement when he realizes how much his brother is not paying attention to him...and just when B starts to get frustrated...)

Jonathan: "Benny, hug?" (PLG impromptu hug erases all animosity...both boys make the "ahhh" noise and giggle)

Jonathan: "Benny, key-assss?" (PLG impromptu smooch...for realz.)

Benjamin: "Mommy, we're ok...you don't need to be in here. I'm not so naughty to Jonny anymore. Go be with Daddy in his office."

So glad they had it under control.

And of course, the political.

A season never to be forgotten! What an inspiring time it's been...motivating, empowering, unifying, truly exciting...and unbelievably fun.

In the Interest of Time

Some pictures to update my blog on all that has been happening in our lives the past month or so. Benjamin's first day of preschool, Jonny in his oh-so-appropriate t-shirt from Dawn (bday gift!), Benjamin with me at youth group retreat, us with the Millers at the Mayflower Family Fun Night, and Jonny in the famous Koetsier's ballon house during one of his many bday parties last month.:)

A more substantive post to follow real soon.

Real soon.

"Integrating the content areas"

That's what we call, in teaching, when you integrate one subject into the teaching of another. For example, practicing how to spell and learn the meaning of math terms. Or using music to teach science.
Embracing the "multiple intelligences".

Anyway. Care much? Didn't think so.
But it seems Jonny is doing this with his gymnastics and music skills.

Sitting in our circle in our Music Together class this morning, we were all shaking egg-sized maracas in our hands and mimicing the instructor's rhythm...a feisty Latin beat was the teacher's choice today (Mommy's hips were moving, even as I sat with J in my lap). Anyway, so at the end of the song, we all follow the teacher's lead and plunk our maracas down on the padded, colorful floor right on the final beat.
And this is when Jonny jumps to his feet, bends over and does a somersault right into the center of the circle...stands up and pumps his fists in the air and shouts "Ta-Daaa!"

No joke.
Hilarious.
I almost peed.
And as you might imagine, it was a total hit. Except when J realized how much of a success this stunt was, he attempted to do somersaults at random times throughout the session.
Not so appropriate during the "skipping in a circle" segment.

Have I mentioned how much I love this kid?
He is a bona fide handful of craziness and impulsivity...but such a bright and present spirit.

I adore you, Jonny C.
Thank you for teaching me the importance of integrating gymnastics into music.
Or, as it might be in your case, a little bit of theater into a group setting.

Hmm...whose side do you get this from?

What I Appreciate

As a mom to Jonathan Richards, I appreciate witnessing another mom running after her 2yr old son in the gym parking lot...with the child running so fast, the mom's not gaining much ground...and she's somehow trying to keep her purse from flying up in her face and still look like she's got it all together at the same time. And was that her water bottle that went flying? Yup, been there, too.

As a lover of all things "fall", I appreciate very much the lengths to which my little town will go to celebrate it.

As a non-conformist to the "put together and preppy" crowd at preschool drop-off, I very much appreciate the few other moms who have nasty, sweaty hair and are wearing non-designer sweats on the playground at pick-up time. (secretly, I am jealous of the Ann Taylor crowd for some insane reason...but only because their hair is blown dry and probably smells terrific)

As a lover of snacks that are sweet AND salty, I deeply appreciate those who put peanuts in their bowl of candy corn. Seriously? It's my addiction right now, and it aint pretty.

And finally, as an avid writer, there's often little else I appreciate more than someone else's ability to put my own views and feelings into words. And in a much smarter and more clever way than I ever could.

Cheers to that.

Why we're naked THIS time...

As I put their toys away in the garage after our late-afternoon walk to 'Bucks (mmm...hot caramel apple cider)...I walk into the backyard to find them covering eachother in wet woodchips...and Jonathan, eating them. That's right. As he sees me he starts to whine, realizing how truly non-delicious they are....and then, as I start wiping them off his face, he ralphs.

Ever think you'd see your kid throwing up woodchips?
Me neither.

So, off went his clothes, covered in nastiness...and Benjamin's too, as he'd managed to cover himself in enough wet woodchip-ness that his hair was literally thick with it.
Clothes in the washer, I made them both hang their heads out of the back door onto the deck and spastically ran my hands through their hair.
And then?
Then I cut them loose in their diapers and went for the camera.
I mean really...what else can you do in a situation like this?

When Brian and I first talked about kids (oh, on our third or fourth date...lol) I remember saying..."I absolutely want to stay home with them, if I can."
I look back on this and laugh because I KNOW I was picturing a far different picture. For one, I was totally picturing a girl (at least one) in the mix. I was also picturing something a bit more idyllic and serene...and far less rambunctious and messy. I never pictured purple crayon all over my red sofas.

But the BEST news here is that if I could start over and script my life any other way, I'd change nothing. Not even the money being spent on vodka and wine each week...:)

Here's to life with the Richards' boys.
Sorry bout your coffee pot last Saturday, Bergsmas.:)

You Know You're in an Economic Crisis when:

1. You mumble outloud in the grocery aisle when noticing price jumps on products.

2. You save and wrap up the last 4 or 5 bites of your toddler's mac and cheese (gluten free is pricey, so cut me a break).

3. Decisions about plans and what to do over the weekend involve the PLG "is it worth the cost of gas?" conversation.

4. You notice, for the first time, other people putting products back on the shelves after carrying them around in their cart and then deciding against them (thought it was just me and my gourmet cheeses).

5. Starbuck's ground coffee is regularly on sale at DandW.

6. You drink crappy wine...not all the time...but you do it. And you don't care.

7. You consider how important all of of your child's prescriptions are...and then buy them anyway.

8. You marvel at the fact that your bottle of vodka is "the same price it is at Costco, honey!!!" as it is at your local Rite Aid. But don't get too excited, the Huggies Pull-Ups will literally reach out and snatch your paycheck.
Seriously.

9. After years of worshipping Bill Maher, you cancel your HBO.

10. You make PLG lists on your blog about money woes.

Uggghhh...can we just elect a Democrat already?
(that was, incidentally, my first title for this post)

That's all.

Just in case you were wondering...

...if I have moments of sheer bliss and happiness with my boys...I do.

Today has been such a great day from the start, so it's best to get at my blog before things change!
Woke up this morning to a few moments of total hilarity:

*Benjamin woke up first, calling out that his pull-up was wet. I went into his room and said "good morning", the whole routine...and helped him take off his wet bottoms. He proceeded to head downstairs bare-bottomed, while I slipped into the upstairs bathroom real quick to pee. I heard Jonny stirring, but he wasn't noisy yet, so I just called out "Morning, Jonny! Be there in a minute, Bud!"
I'm peeing (sorry Shawn), and I look over to my right, and what occured in the next few moments is exactly as follows (no, I mean NO exaggeration):
Jonathan's door opens...and out he walks, casually, dragging his blanket like Linus...and scratching the back of his head.
That's right. Got himself out of his crib.
What's possibly the funniest part of this is that I never even heard him climbing out. He was completely nonchalant about the whole thing, barely acknowledging me when he walked out into the hallway and saw me sitting on the potty.
My eyes were as big as saucers...I'm honestly not sure when I've been that surprised.

*Just then, as I'm marveling at this latest feat of monkey-dom on Jonny's part...I hear a cupboard open and slam shut downstairs, as Benjamin calls out:
"Mommm-aay! Mommm-aaay! We're out of pull-ups!"

So hilarious.
Only topped, maybe, by the comment in the car yesterday while driving home from pre-school.

"How was pre-school today, Bud? What'd you guys do? Anything exciting?" I ask.

(in Benjamin hanger pulling on the corner of his mouth voice) "Ehhh...naa...Mommy, you don't have to worry bout me. I was just hangin out."

But perhaps, the most adorable and endearing...right after lunch, as I was cleaning up the rice off the floor, Benjamin came up and hugged me in the most genuine, unassuming, non-attention-seeking way. Just quietly, and totally unprovoked.
I made one of my "oh, I just love you!" noises and Benjamin says to me:
"Mommy, you are just the most special child and I love you, ok?"

Divine interventioin, to be sure.
I'm certain of it.

Dear Brian...

You can come home now.

Seriously, it's ok.
I know it's much more fun to be in San Francisco than on Santa Cruz these days...well, less chaotic, anyway. But we miss you.
I miss you.
In the past few days I've become increasingly convinced that the boys have it out for me...they are conspiring, I'm sure of it.
You'll be happy to know that I took your suggestion this morning about pre-school drop off and put Jonny in the Maclaren.
Didn't work. He managed to scream and push himself hard enough against the straps that he was practically standing upright in the stroller. And before I could get to him, he had grabbed a child's jacket out of their cubby, thrown it on the floor and yanked down the sign-in clipboard from the wall.
So, yes...the stroller kept him from actually crossing the thresh-hold into the room and getting into the paint. You were right about that. Kudos to you. Have another round of scotch for that bit of advice tonight...on the company, of course...and while you're at it, see if they can swing my bill from Jonny's allergist visit. I mean, they can pay for your sushi and fancy drinks, I'd like to think they could maybe afford those scripts? I'm just saying.
(p.s. see #12 added to yesterday's list)

Anyway, pre-school.
At pick-up, on the playground, it was JONATHAN who got into fisticuffs with another child...all while trying to monopolize the monkey bars. He hangs--doesn't yet know how to cross them--but refuses to let go...at all. Ever. And of course this frustrates the age-appropriate population of kids lined up to cross the bars. What can I do?
I decided not to use the stroller for pick-up, so when we left the playground, he ended up running across the parking lot so fast I couldn't keep up. When I got to him, he just went horizontal on me and screamed so loud I just knew the ChildAbusePreventionPeople...wherever they were... were in earshot.
He's killing me, Brian. Killing me. And I would just love maybe ten minutes around dinner time where he wasn't fighting with Benjamin or climbing on something or dumping something in the toilet. I'd love five minutes to go to the bathroom.
Is that too much to ask?

And why don't boys play with dolls? Why don't they sit quietly and put pretend makeup on pretend doll faces? I could even take the "girl fighting" if it meant my kitchen ceiling wouldn't spring a leak on me. Or my toilet overflow. (we've lost two rolls of tee pee this week)

Ok.
Deep breath.
You are right, it will be Friday soon. And we can do this crazy job together.
But in the meantime, would you be ever so sweet and just not call me while you're away? I love you more than life and know all you want is to just connect and hear my voice, but I'm just afraid that if you do call anytime in the next 24 hours, you're going to find Joan Crawford on the other end, screaming about "wire hangers!!!"...instead of your fun-loving wife.

Until then, enjoy the Rice-a-Roni.

Things I Never Imagined Myself Doing:

1. Hosting a political event in my living room.

2. Carrying a manic 2yr old upside down, screaming and covered in blue paint (set out for pre-schoolers) out of my older child's pre-school class.

3. Shopping at grocery with said paint on my own shirt.

4. Asking my garbage man if he's registered to vote.

5. Planning a Halloween costume for myself that is sure to make me look homely, frumpy and completely heinus.

6. Turning in two separate pictures (one of me with Benjamin, the other of Brian and the boys) to Benjamin's pre-school teachers on "family picture" day, when I couldn't seem to dig up a picture of our entire family together. PLG.
Could that look more like a divorced family?

7. Frantically placing buckets and towels underneath my kitchen island light fixture...that was spewing water like Old Faithful after the boys flooded the upstairs bathroom.
(Reason for no blog entry that day: too many titles from which to choose)

8. Buying Halloween decorations for my house. (I swear I'll never buy a sweater, though)

9. Watching more news than reality tv.

10. Letting my kids eat popsicles at 10:30 in the morning.

So I guess you could say I've been busy lately. Happy? Of course. Frantic? Always. I had just watched a heartwarming movie on HBO Sunday night, after telling my husband that I didn't want any conversation...just wanted to veg and not talk to anybody. Anyway, I watched this wonderful movie and went to bed completely motivated to wake up with positive energy for my boys. In reality, I do this every day...but lately they've been pushing me right to the edge and over ten-thousand feet. So I wake up, make a great breakfast and fill my coffee cup...and...we're an hour and a half into our day when I get a phone call and decide--God forbid--to answer it. I chat with my girlfriend for a bit and as expected, mayhem ensues. Oh, I should add something here:

11. Yelling at my kids while on the phone with a friend. I swore up and down and every which way around the barn that I would NEVER do that one.

So they scurry upstairs, where the possibilities for mischief are endless, but I've got them pegged for playing in B's room and dancing to the b-ball hoop music (when the ball goes through the hoop, music and cheering erupts...but they've taken to just hitting the button without even introducing a ball into the equation...and dancing like total jack-a**es.....Yup, I said it...).
The amount of time they're upstairs is less than enough for me to even pee, pour another cup of coffee or fold an ounce of laundry.
But when I get upstairs, I find Jonny standing on the toilet and Benjamin on the stool...each of them laughing in hysterics (yet Benjamin, with a hint of foreboding when he sees me)...and me...up to my ankles in water. The sink is flowing over with water and flooding all over the floor...and out onto the carpeted upstairs hallway.

And I thought I wasn't going to blog about that one.
At any rate, I'll leave it at that. Except to add that we now have a new strip of yellowish-orange on our kitchen ceiling from the literal geyser that sprang forth over our light fixture.
Good times!

I mean this when I say that my life these days seems to be bringing with it, on a daily basis, situations I never deemed myself equipped with which to deal.
But somehow I'm getting through...yoga helps. Yoga REALLY helps.
And so does Pinot Noir. And friends...and Obama parties.:)
And a new, inspiring, thought-provoking, intellectually and socially relevant minister at church.

Life's pretty incredible, actually.
Just kinda wet sometimes.

And always nearing cocktail hour at warp speed.


Edited to add the following:
12. Paying $150 for allergy prescriptions.

New president, anyone?

"Be the Change"

So proud of my brother Jon.

As of yesterday afternoon, he is in Uganda (in Africa) on a goodwill mission through his local Rotary organization. He'll be gone until late September, and I miss being able to hear his voice already. But I know that even in the last 24 hours he's already experienced the kinds of things that are hard to put into words...perspective gaining, eye-opening...and truly life-changing.

As I said over a "toast" at dinner with my family last Saturday night, Jon never does anything in a small way. Growing up, I don't think any of us imagined he'd be the one to take such huge leaps...but as I've come to realize, as I'm sure the rest of my family has, he is the kind of person that chooses adversity (and sometimes even conflict, really) in the most deliberate way...in order to be sure that he's truly coming to terms with his own kind of truth. He's flawed and imperfect, yes...but is easily one of the most inspiring people I know at the same time. Going to great lengths to broaden his world view...that's Jon. Never makes things simple for himself, to be certain.

And this isn't to say that any of the rest of us aren't able to be effective in smaller, less-noticeable ways...in fact, I know that's not true at all. I'm proud of anyone in my family who gets out there to make a difference. I just know that for Jon, this wasn't an easy decision.

I know that, because I just spent a few days of real quality time with him...and I'm so grateful.

Anyway, hats off to you Jon...whatever you're doing right now, I'm thinking about you and love you lots!

"Be the change you wish to see in the world"...this most famous quote seems awfully fitting today.

Can't Help Myself

Lately, it seems, there are many other people putting into words what I cannot.
And here's my latest fave:

(please forgive me for beating this "horse" to death...though I do warn you, it may just be the beginning)

Palin: wrong woman, wrong message
Sarah Palin shares nothing but a chromosome with Hillary Clinton. She is Phyllis Schlafly, only younger.
By Gloria Steinem September 4, 2008

Here's the good news: Women have become so politically powerful that even the anti-feminist right wing -- the folks with a headlock on the Republican Party -- are trying to appease the gender gap with a first-ever female vice president. We owe this to women -- and to many men too -- who have picketed, gone on hunger strikes or confronted violence at the polls so women can vote. We owe it to Shirley Chisholm, who first took the "white-male-only" sign off the White House, and to Hillary Rodham Clinton, who hung in there through ridicule and misogyny to win 18 million votes.But here is even better news: It won't work. This isn't the first time a boss has picked an unqualified woman just because she agrees with him and opposes everything most other women want and need. Feminism has never been about getting a job for one woman. It's about making life more fair for women everywhere. It's not about a piece of the existing pie; there are too many of us for that. It's about baking a new pie.

Selecting Sarah Palin, who was touted all summer by Rush Limbaugh, is no way to attract most women, including die-hard Clinton supporters. Palin shares nothing but a chromosome with Clinton. Her down-home, divisive and deceptive speech did nothing to cosmeticize a Republican convention that has more than twice as many male delegates as female, a presidential candidate who is owned and operated by the right wing and a platform that opposes pretty much everything Clinton's candidacy stood for -- and that Barack Obama's still does. To vote in protest for McCain/Palin would be like saying, "Somebody stole my shoes, so I'll amputate my legs."

This is not to beat up on Palin. I defend her right to be wrong, even on issues that matter most to me. I regret that people say she can't do the job because she has children in need of care, especially if they wouldn't say the same about a father. I get no pleasure from imagining her in the spotlight on national and foreign policy issues about which she has zero background, with one month to learn to compete with Sen. Joe Biden's 37 years' experience.Palin has been honest about what she doesn't know. When asked last month about the vice presidency, she said, "I still can't answer that question until someone answers for me: What is it exactly that the VP does every day?" When asked about Iraq, she said, "I haven't really focused much on the war in Iraq."
She was elected governor largely because the incumbent was unpopular, and she's won over Alaskans mostly by using unprecedented oil wealth to give a $1,200 rebate to every resident. Now she is being praised by McCain's campaign as a tax cutter, despite the fact that Alaska has no state income or sales tax. Perhaps McCain has opposed affirmative action for so long that he doesn't know it's about inviting more people to meet standards, not lowering them. Or perhaps McCain is following the Bush administration habit, as in the Justice Department, of putting a job candidate's views on "God, guns and gays" ahead of competence. The difference is that McCain is filling a job one 72-year-old heartbeat away from the presidency. So let's be clear: The culprit is John McCain. He may have chosen Palin out of change-envy, or a belief that women can't tell the difference between form and content, but the main motive was to please right-wing ideologues; the same ones who nixed anyone who is now or ever has been a supporter of reproductive freedom. If that were not the case, McCain could have chosen a woman who knows what a vice president does and who has thought about Iraq; someone like Texas Sen. Kay Bailey Hutchison or Sen. Olympia Snowe of Maine. McCain could have taken a baby step away from right-wing patriarchs who determine his actions, right down to opposing the Violence Against Women Act. Palin's value to those patriarchs is clear: She opposes just about every issue that women support by a majority or plurality. She believes that creationism should be taught in public schools but disbelieves global warming; she opposes gun control but supports government control of women's wombs; she opposes stem cell research but approves "abstinence-only" programs, which increase unwanted births, sexually transmitted diseases and abortions; she tried to use taxpayers' millions for a state program to shoot wolves from the air but didn't spend enough money to fix a state school system with the lowest high-school graduation rate in the nation; she runs with a candidate who opposes the Fair Pay Act but supports $500 million in subsidies for a natural gas pipeline across Alaska; she supports drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Reserve, though even McCain has opted for the lesser evil of offshore drilling. She is Phyllis Schlafly, only younger.I don't doubt her sincerity. As a lifetime member of the National Rifle Assn., she doesn't just support killing animals from helicopters, she does it herself. She doesn't just talk about increasing the use of fossil fuels but puts a coal-burning power plant in her own small town. She doesn't just echo McCain's pledge to criminalize abortion by overturning Roe vs. Wade, she says that if one of her daughters were impregnated by rape or incest, she should bear the child. She not only opposes reproductive freedom as a human right but implies that it dictates abortion, without saying that it also protects the right to have a child.So far, the major new McCain supporter that Palin has attracted is James Dobson of Focus on the Family. Of course, for Dobson, "women are merely waiting for their husbands to assume leadership," so he may be voting for Palin's husband.

Being a hope-a-holic, however, I can see two long-term bipartisan gains from this contest. Republicans may learn they can't appeal to right-wing patriarchs and most women at the same time. A loss in November could cause the centrist majority of Republicans to take back their party, which was the first to support the Equal Rights Amendment and should be the last to want to invite government into the wombs of women.And American women, who suffer more because of having two full-time jobs than from any other single injustice, finally have support on a national stage from male leaders who know that women can't be equal outside the home until men are equal in it. Barack Obama and Joe Biden are campaigning on their belief that men should be, can be and want to be at home for their children. This could be huge.

Gloria Steinem is an author, feminist organizer and co-founder of the Women's Media Center. She supported Hillary Clinton and is now supporting Barack Obama.

And P.S.???

This is something I've been wondering for the past few weeks, and I am seriously wanting to know:

Who the hell is T. Boone Pickens???

That's all.

Organizing...

This week has been all about a new fall schedule, and getting the boys signed up and ready for the upcoming weeks. Benjamin starts preschool and a new session of Kidfit, plus swim lessons at East Hills. Jonny starts a Rompers class at East Hills and--this morning--a Music Together class with Mommy.

But last night I attended what might be the most important "meeting" of the week. With my mom, I gathered with several other Obama supporters at an "Obama party". It was held in the living room of one of my mom's friends from the GR Civic Theater. John March--a local, white, well-off, attorney (at one of GR's top firms) working in a conservative environment...and yet, unbelievably passionate about change for our country. Certainly breaking the mold.
At any rate, the gathering of people was, for sure, diverse...but most of all, impassioned and motivated. Several people spoke about their own story, why they are supporting Obama, etc...including myself. And once that happened, I realized just how devoted I am to this cause. And if I want to see my state go "blue", it's going to need more than my putting a yard sign in front of my house. Even if it does irk my neighbor across the street.
My point is that I'm ready. Ready to do more. I've signed up to do something I never even DREAMED I'd feel comfortable with, which is to go door to door. But when I think about my candidate, I realize that's the kind of campaign he's running...one from the ground up, with an emphasis on the impact of each single person. And the power of face to face contact.
Also? I'm going to host a party at my house. I might not have as nice of a living room to host it in...or as many nice wine glasses...but somehow I just don't think that's the point.
The campaign reps that attended and led our event amazed me. Neither of them from Michigan, both having uprooted their lives for the past 6 months to devote their energies to this campaign. One an owner of a marketing firm, the other a college student on scholarship. They both gave it all up to work for Barack. And both are living in homes of strangers from month to month, state to state, community to community. Gettin it done!

Point is, I'm just so freakin inspired and ready to put more of myself into this. I've been talking for a long time about how much I believe in this process, this candidate, etc...but I've never been more convinced of the need for my own voice being added to the effort.
That is, afterall, what Barack has been asking for all along...involvement from the ground up, not the other way around.
And so, I want to leave today's entry with an excerpt from an on point email I received today from the Obama campaign. Thought it pretty much summed up how I was feeling last night. How I felt about the speech by Palin (even though I turned it off half-way through)...but mostly, how I feel about moving forward.
I'm tired of the divisiveness from the Right.
Tired of being pandered to, simply because I'm a white, female, suburban mom and member of the middle class.
Tired of having my intelligence low-balled. And my expectations underestimated.
Tired of not doing anything more than stewing around getting frustrated.

Not when the stakes are this high.

And so, here's the quote from David Plouffe:

You know that despite what John McCain and his attack squad say, everyday people have the power to build something extraordinary when we come together.
Both Rudy Giuliani and Sarah Palin specifically mocked Barack's experience as a community organizer on the South Side of Chicago more than two decades ago, where he worked with people who had lost jobs and been left behind when the local steel plants closed.Let's clarify something for them right now. Community organizing is how ordinary people respond to out-of-touch politicians and their failed policies. And it's no surprise that, after eight years of George Bush, millions of people have found that by coming together in their local communities they can change the course of history. That promise is what our campaign has been about from the beginning. Throughout our history, ordinary people have made good on America's promise by organizing for change from the bottom up. Community organizing is the foundation of the civil rights movement, the women's suffrage movement, labor rights, and the 40-hour workweek. And it's happening today in church basements and community centers and living rooms across America.Meanwhile, we still haven't gotten a single idea during the entire Republican convention about the economy and how to lift a middle class so harmed by the Bush-McCain policies. It's now clear that John McCain's campaign has decided that desperate lies and personal attacks -- on Barack Obama and on you -- are the only way they can earn a third term for the Bush policies that McCain has supported more than 90 percent of the time.

Also felt like adding this article to today's post.
Thanks, Steph.:)

A Few Things I'll Remember Most...

Summer officially came to a close this past weekend, which has left me a bit melancholy. Fortunately, we managed to fill our Labor Day Weekend with all the things we love about summer...and even better, with some of the people we've grown to enjoy the most.
Days at the pool have been some of the best times we've had as a family. Watching the boys grow more comfortable--and even daring--in the water, playing basketball at the kid-sized b-ball court (making mental note of Jonny's crazy skills already...seriously? a basket from free-throw-range?), watching them dig canals and rivers in the giant sandbox and play on the jungle gym in their sandy swimtrunks, and of course...laughing hysterically as their daddy comes shooting out of the water slide. The pool has been invaluable this summer. We've loved the camaraderie of several friends on many days/nights, but the best times were the ones where we were there just as a family...driving home with worn out, chlorine-soaked and butt-happy toddlers in the back of our mini-van.
And yes, we love our mini. So give us a break.

Neighborhood gatherings were at no shortage this summer, either. Some planned in advance, but most of them impromptu. And always with the icees. If I cut one plastic end of off an icee pop this summer, I did it a thousand times. Anyone else?
We do love our neighbors, though, and are so grateful for them. Sometime around late May we decided on a tradition with our friends Brian and Megan that if there was ever a Friday night that we were both free (which, unfortunately, only ended up happening about 3 or 4 times), we would gather at one of our houses for a BBQ. This past Friday night was one of the best. Annabel and Benjamin are, as Megan and I noted, unbelievably compatible as buds. They play so well together and have lengthy conversations...hysterical. Olivia and Jonathan haven't exactly bonded yet, but we see some serious plans being made in the way they look at eachother.:) But the best of all is the friendship that's developed with the adults. This past Friday night we sat in their back screened-in porch drinking margaritas while Jonathan slept in a pack-n-play upstairs, and Benjamin watched Arthur with Annabel on the couch. We laughed, talked (about politics mostly...one of our favorite things to discuss) and even managed to gossip like schoolgirls about the neighborhood. I think it was the first time I realized just how comfortable we've become with them.
It would've been a completely respectable evening (even with the gossip...you know you all do it) had we ended it there, but somewhere around 9pm Ted and Maureen (they need their own blog entry) showed up with drinks in their hands and invited us down to sit in their driveway around the chiminay (nooo idea how you spell that thing). So we went, bringing a monitor to listen for the little ones and letting Benjamin run around the backyard and play in the neighbor's tree fort.
At 9pm.
And we stayed until 11pm.
Benjamin was a mess. And so were the adults.:)
But it was, by far, one of the best Friday nights we had this summer. Even got to hear Ted talk about his job...which he hardly does (he's a medical examiner for Kent County).

The rest of the weekend was mostly time spent with other neighbors, including some of our faves, Sarah and Ryan. I adore these kids. I've been watching them, for the past year and a half, get older and more mature...but still have an unusual amount of patience with our boys. They show real interest in them and are always introducing them to the things I know I wouldn't...like how to make water balloons (ok, I'd probably do that), hold frogs and toads (um, no...I'd never do that), how to play dodgeball, four square, do somersaults (no one wants to see me do that), and so many other creative and rambunctious ways to pass the time.
Ryan will even be skateboarding down Santa Cruz with other boys his age...and when Benjamin runs to the edge of the sidewalk and calls his name (PLG), he'll stop, walk over, and kneel down by Benjamin and show him how the board works. One of these days I'm going to have to slip the kid a 5-spot for all the times he's kept B busy while I make dinner, too.
Anyway, we love having Ryan and Sarah nextdoor. After all, Sarah taught Benjamin how to sit with his hands in chin-mudra and chant "Om".
The second to last picture was taken by Brian Miller on a night out we had a few weekends ago...I think it was at Hopcat Brewery. At any rate, we all got a bit shnockered on pints (starting at Graydon's) that night. It was, gratefully, much like many other fun nights with friends we've been able to enjoy this summer...even a few out just the two of us, too. And of course I count my own family in the mix here, because holy cow...those were some of the rowdiest nights of all.:)

The last pic is of something I will always remember and hold dear...the way Jonny lays his head on my shoulder, especially with a stuffed animal or blankie to cuddle against. Both my boys are highly affectionate and loving, but Jonathan is--by far--a lot more cuddly. The boy loves to snuggle. And even though I know he'll always be this way, I know that the days of him cuddling so comfortably on my shoulder that he falls asleep are numbered.
Plus, he's getting damn heavy.

Important to note here, I think, are the less happy--but equally memorable--moments:

*saying goodbye to Allie and wishing her well at U of M
*Benjamin starring in an ad for Global Relief (impetigo, anyone?)
*Jonny slipping off of a deck chair at Orchard Hills and conking his head on the cement (the number of times this kid fell over this summer is too high to count, but this one was scary)
*Brian traveling...a lot (most memorable? Brian: "Hi honey, I'm eating sushi at a sweet sushi bar in Manhattan" Me: "Really? That is so awesome. Jonathan just pooped in the bathtub. Gotta jettison the toys asap.")
*Potty frustrations
*Tim Russert (I think that was springtime...but we think about it still to this day)
*the lady who verbally attacked me in the parking lot of Home Fabrics (did I not post about this?)
*the near-anxiety attack I had in Seattle when it got to be just one day too many away from my boys
*missing the pulled-pork cook-off (thanks for the leftovers, though, Shawn!)

At any rate, it's been one for the books.
And today...today Benjamin started preschool. Well, he had his "meet and greet", anyway. And it was beyond successful. To illustrate this, I will end this post with the following quotes taken from our morning at Mayflower.

Brian, as we pull into parking lot: "This is your preschool, Bud...isn't it great?"
Benjamin: "Aww, yeah...I think it is gonna be great." (if you're at all familiar with B's "drawl", then you hear this being said just perfectly)

Benjamin, to Lily McIntosh, upon seeing her in the hallway: "Hey Lily! This is preschool!"

Me, as we wait in the hallway outside his classroom to meet his teachers: "Well, we need to wait, Bud...because it's not our turn yet."
Benjamin: "But I want to go in, Mommy...I'm so excited to go in!"
(add here that when we finally did go in, he walked right up to the teachers, said his hellos...and disappeared to the toy area, without so much as a glance our way the entire time)

Me, as I fastened his carseat: "So next time we come, you're gonna stay...and Mommy will come back after a bit...just like I do at East Hills and The MAC...that sound pretty ok, Buddy?"

Benjamin: "Huh...yeaah...I think it surely does, Mommy."
Brian and me: bug-eyed and speechless in the front seat. Trying so hard not to laugh...and me...not to cry.

Need I say more.
Fall is officially here, and it seems we're all ready for it.