I Screwed Up

It's been a few days.  The days have been pretty eventful.  So much so that I have too much stuff to write about and have therefore written nothing.  Such is life.

Well, I was trying to figure out what to call this post.  My immediate thought was "Oh Crap", but that will be a fitting title for many posts to come, so I figured I better think of something a little more specific to the situation, haha.

Having Sophia in the house this last month has been an adventure, to say the least.  Truth be told, I was a little trepidatious (yes, I had to look up the spelling) about her being here for such a long period of time.  Six and a half weeks.  That is like forever.  We get bits of information from her mother, that, when put together, paint a picture of quite the sassy little girl.  Apparently they have a problem with lying and outright defiance.  We have her every other weekend during the school year, and she's really pretty good for us, but we realized that things might be different with her here for such a long stretch.  I admit, and I am ashamed of it, that when something goes wrong, my assumption is that she had a part in it.

For some reason, I had one of those days where it seems that any little noise is excessive, and I was on edge all day.  The kids were inside most of the day because it was oppressively hot outside, and round about 4:00 it was getting to be too much for me.  Peanut was getting tired, so I took that opportunity to excuse myself to go upstairs where it is quiet and air-conditioned and put her to sleep.  Just before I went up, Sophia asked to do a puzzle.  (They're all up on a high shelf because the last time she did them she dumped about six of them on the floor at the same time and wouldn't pick them up.)  So I got one down for her and went upstairs.

Peanut and I were lying down on the bed together.  I set an alarm so I would wake up in time for church and closed my eyes.  I was almost asleep when I heard a chair being dragged across the floor, presumably in the dining room.  Now, Sophia has a habit of trying to do things without asking first.  Not that we don't let her do anything without asking our permission, but she takes things she shouldn't be playing with or does things that are not safe.  So I immediately thought, That little stinker is trying to get another puzzle down. I kept listening, but didn't hear anything else, so I let myself drift off. 

I came downstairs when it was time to make dinner.  Nathaniel and Sophia were both in the dining room.  Sophia held up the puzzle toward the shelf and said, "Here, we gave up trying.  Can you put it away?"  I of course thought they were trying to climb on a stool (which was pulled out a little way from the table toward the shelf) and put the puzzle away.  I asked if they were trying to get up on the stool to put the puzzle away and they both said no.  So I said, "Who pulled the stool across the room?  I heard it from upstairs."  Sophia said, "I did."  So I sent her to her room for lying to me about climbing on the stool, thinking she had done it to get to the puzzles on the shelf.  I talked to her a couple minutes later and explained that I didn't send her to her room because she was climbing and not being safe, but because she lied to me.  She said she was sorry and asked if I would forgive her.  I said of course I would, but she needed to remember that we tell the truth at our house. 

I finished dinner, and we sat down to eat.  And Nathaniel said, "I pulled this chair out from the table to get a puzzle piece that fell on the floor."  Oh no.  I asked, "Is that why I heard something being dragged across the floor?  Did that really happen?", knowing that it was too logical a story not to be true.  And later, he told me that the pieces were not all there so they didn't finish the puzzle.  They "gave up trying."

Crap.

Why do I do this to myself?  Or, more to the point, why do I do this to them?  I always assume that I know exactly what is going on, when I really have no clue.  I know she has a problem with lying at her mom's house, I heard a chair dragging on the floor, I know she likes puzzles, I know she likes to take things without asking.  You'd think that would be a pretty strong case, right?  Nope.  Definitely wouldn't hold up in court.  And really, do I even need to try to put a case together?  I'm not a lawyer, I'm a parent.  And a Christian one, at that (though I'd have a hard time proving that in court, too).  Where's the grace?  Where is the mercy?

So for the second time in two days, I found myself apologizing to my daughter.  I asked her to forgive me and she said, "Of course!"  She is so sweet.  Later on, while we were sitting on the couch, she leaned her head on my shoulder and said, out of the blue, "I love you, Sarah."  There's the mercy.

Later, after they went to bed, I tried to turn on the TV using the remote control.  It wouldn't turn on.  I tried a few times, and nothing.  I opened the compartment where the batteries are to change them, and there were no batteries.  I asked Matt if he took them out, and he said no.  Sophia's the only one who watches movies on that TV lately.  That little stinker took the batteries out of the remote!, I thought.  Here we go again... 

Lord, have mercy!

Here are a couple pictures I thought appropriate to the situation:

So true.

The whole thing isn't necessarily applicable to the occasion, but I really like it.  And I seem to frequent that last place often.

Promised Misadventures

Quick note about the last blog:  I should not have called Matt "compliant."  That makes it sound like I run the household, which I don't.  I get ideas, run them by him, and he happens to agree with most of them.  I couldn't think of a better word, but I should have just explained it like that.  Anyway...

The explanation of the first part of the new blog name should be self-explanatory, especially if you've been following this blog and noticed the sub-heading.  Thinking over today's escapades and planning the blog, I realized I've had a few entries about the crazy stuff that seems to happen pretty often in my life.  They're not always my fault, but the blame lies with me this time.

Peanut had a doctor's appointment this morning.  I also needed to go to Wal-Mart to return some clothes that didn't fit.  So I loaded Peanut up in my car, which I hardly get to drive anymore because I've got all three kids all day.  I always take the van, so that's where my purse usually is.  So I get to the doctor, and thinking about the insurance card, I realized that my purse is in the van.  Crap.  So I plan to run home and get it before I go to Wal-Mart.  I even texted Matt and told him I'd be home again. 

So I left the doctor's office and headed straight for Wal-Mart.  Without going home first.  I got there, got out of the car, and realized I forgot my purse just as I opened the door to get Peanut out.  Crap.  So I got back in the car and went home.  It was late morning, and Matt was asleep.  Sophia was up playing, and she told me she was hungry.  I hadn't had much to eat that morning, so I was hungry too.  I made us some lunch.  I also realized that I had forgotten the bag with the clothes I needed to return (even though I put them right by Peanut's carseat by the door so I wouldn't forget them).  So I grabbed that, loaded Peanut back up in the car, and drove to Wal-Mart.  And realized I forgot my purse again.  Crap.  (Notice how often I'm using that word in this post?  That won't be the last time.)

I drove back home, got the purse, and then drove back to Wal-Mart.  I made sure to grab my purse before I got Peanut out of the car.  I got a cart from a cart corral, put her inside, and walked into the store.  And realized I had forgotten the bag with the clothes in the car.  Crap.  So after just having entered the store, I had to turn around and go back out (feeling pretty stupid because I made that mistake in public).  I returned the clothes, picked up some batteries that Matt needed, and left. 

I also had to go to a local natural foods store, which is right by a major highway, so as I walked out to the car, I thought about the best way to get there from where I was and which highway to take.  And I took a wrong turn out of the Wal-Mart parking lot.  Crap.  From the time I left home the first time that morning to the time I returned home the final time should have taken about an hour and a half, maybe two hours at the most.  I was gone from 9:20 a.m. until 12:45 p.m.

Thankfully, the rest of my day went well.  Matt and Nathaniel had their own misadventure, when we couldn't find Nathaniel after his bus from summer school came to our local school to drop him off.  Matt walking to the school but as he got close, he didn't see Nathaniel waiting.    We thought he may have gone home with the neighbor boy like he has a couple times, so Matt called the boy's mom, who also hadn't seen him.  Slight panic ensued.  Turns out, the bus driver had told him to wait inside the bus, so Matt didn't see him as he approached.  Lame on the bus driver's part, if you ask me, but you didn't, so I'll just say there was a big sigh of relief when we figured that out and found him.

But back to my day, the kids and I met my mom and Izzy at the park and had a nice afternoon.  Got home, fed Peanut, and she fell asleep.  Awesome, I needed a nap too.  We laid down in bed together so I could nurse her back to sleep after she woke up from me taking her out of her carseat.  Well, the shots really knocked her out, and she slept for three hours!  Which meant I got a three hour rest too, since she nurses off and on when she sleeps and I'm kinda stuck.  (Well, I choose to be, but she does need a long nap sometime during the day, and this is a good way to ensure she gets it.)

So, now you get the "misadventures."

I think my brain fell out of my head today.  If you see it, please let me know.  Thanks! :)

The Road to "Crunchy"

Hopefully, I have successfully changed the name of this blog to "The Misadventures of a Newly Crunchy Mom".  We'll see if it worked.

For those of you who are not familiar with the term "crunchy" (as it applies to people), it refers to people who are into "natural" stuff, and I most often run into the term when it applies to parenting.  Home births, cloth diapering, co-sleeping with your children, breastfeeding into toddlerhood, "attachment parenting", babywearing, eating organic food, not vaccinating your children or delaying vaccines, making your own baby food, etc., etc.  "Crunchy" as in granola.  Not all "crunchy" moms practice all of these.  For example, Peanut is vaccinated (she just got shots today, as a matter of fact), and I can't afford lots of organic food.  And I don't eat granola.  Except in bar form.  And they're the chewy kind.  But moving on...

I was introduced to this lifestyle (I'll call it this though I think there's a better word somewhere) gradually.  It started with a woman at my church.  (You know who you are. :) )  She was certified as a midwife a few years ago, and she shared stories of her certification process as it went on.  It sounded really interesting.  So when I married Matt, I said, "Hey, is it ok if we use her whenever we have kids?"  Matt, being the open-minded and compliant husband he is, had no problem with this.  So I got pregnant three months later, double-checked that it was still ok, and got the thumbs up.  Then I found out she only does home births.  Ok, cool.  Checked with Matt, and his response was, "As long as we can get to a hospital if something goes wrong, that's fine."  Sweet!  So I started doing research on home births, and I liked what I saw.  So Peanut was born at home, in the very place my feet rest every night.  Turns out we did need to go to the hospital shortly afterward (I hemorrhaged badly, lost lots of blood).  But in spite of all that, I loved laboring at home.  Had I been at the hospital, I would have had tons of interventions that I did not want or need but are standard procedure at hospitals.  Even with everything that happened, I'm not sorry I did it.

Anyhow, doing the research about home births, I came across blogs and websites of crunchy-type people.  Through these sites, I was introduced to other "crunchy" practices.  I did a lot of research on a lot of topics and began to see the benefits, though without doing the research I would never have considered some of them.  Kids, babies, sleeping in beds with parents?!  HECK NO. NO WAY!!!  I worked in a child care center, for heaven's sake.  SIDS training for state-licensed child care facilities was mandatory.  Babies on their backs to sleep, in their own beds.  Hearing of babies sleeping with their parents in bed made me cringe inwardly.  However, I found there are ways of doing it safely.  And I'm reluctant to admit it because I had always been so against it, but Peanut does sleep in bed with us for part of the night most nights.  And that's just one example.

And Matt, once again the open-minded, compliant husband that he is, was agreeable to many of these practices.  I even talked him into cloth diapering!  Granted, cloth diapers have come a long way since my parents used them with me.  I do not have to rinse them in the toilet, for one thing.  Peanut is exclusively breastfed (even at 6 months old, another uncommon "crunchy" practice), and breastmilk poop rinses out in the washer.  And they make these cool diaper sprayers that hook into the plumbing of the toilet so you can rinse yuckier solid-food poop into the toilet without touching it.  There is no flipping way that I would ever put my hand in a toilet.  Eww.  But cloth diapers save so much money!  Sizeable investment up front, but one-size pocket diapers can be used from itty-bitty all the way through potty-training, and can be used for more than one child.  And they're super cute.  I forgot to put pants on Peanut last Saturday, but her lime-green diaper kinda sorta matched the shirt she was wearing.

Anyway, that's "crunchy" in a nutshell.  It's my second crunchy post in a row.  I promise they won't all be like this.  I will get back to posting stories and pictures.  In fact:

Next post:  more misadventures!

Breastfeeding Rant

Ok all, this post departs from my usual theme.  Warning:  There is a picture of a woman breastfeeding her child down below.  It should be far enough down so that hopefully you won't see it right away when you read this and will have the option to scroll down to see it or not.  I encourage you to do so, though, as it has a (rather lengthy) message written over the top that I find very powerful.

Before I start, I want to say this:  There are many different reasons why some women choose not to breastfeed their child, and I'm not judging anyone who makes that choice. 

But I am not afraid to say that I believe, and it has been proven scientifically, that breastfeeding is by far the better choice for children, both babies and toddlers.  The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends breastfeeding for at least a year, and the World Health Organization recommends it for two years and beyond.  Formula cannot compare.  No matter how many vitamins and minerals they put in formula, it absolutely cannot compare to breastmilk.  Not only are the nutrients much less bioavailable (a baby cannot absorb nearly the amount that is actually put into the formula), but it is much harder for a baby to digest and it does not contain any of the antibodies that breastmilk does that helps build a child's immune system.  Studies have shown that breastmilk adapts to a child's needs, both babies and toddlers.  For example, did you know that the amount of antibodies in breastmilk increases around age 9 months and into toddlerhood?  At exactly the age that babies begin to be mobile and put everything in their mouths.  And that's just one example.

If you scroll down to the picture, you will see the kind of crap some people give breastfeeding women.  It is absolutely horrible.  There is NO scientific evidence whatsoever that breastfeeding into toddlerhood is detrimental to a child's future emotional/mental well-being.

Also, there are laws in most states specifically protecting a woman's right to breastfeed her child in public.  Wisconsin law states:

253.16 Right to breast-feed. A mother may breast-feed her child in any public or private location where the mother and child are otherwise authorized to be. In such a location, no person may prohibit a mother from breast-feeding her child, direct a mother to move to another location to breast-feed her child, direct a mother to cover her child or breast while breast-feeding, or otherwise restrict a mother from breast-feeding.

I also looked up breastfeeding laws in your state (the states of anyone I can think of who could possibly be reading this blog), and each of them has similar laws.  Illinois even gives a woman the right to bring legal action against anyone who breaks this law.

Please know this:  most women who breastfeed in public are doing their best to discreet.  Very few women are out to show their boobs, whether they cover up or not.  I personally feel more comfortable without a cover.  Not only does a cover practically scream "Naked breasts under here!!!", but between blindly messing with my shirt and a wiggly baby, I end up flashing people more often than without a cover because it doesn't stay put, no matter how hard I try.  I find it very sad indeed that most of American society loves to see women's breasts until they are being used for their number one intended purpose.  I also find it sad that people who have the guts to approach a breastfeeding woman because they believe that showing breasts is indecent do not approach women who wear revealing clothing and often show more of their breasts than the breastfeeding mother.

All that being said, here's the picture:

I probably wouldn't use some of the words myself (the last statement, for example), but it gives a good summary of the nasty things that people say to breastfeeding moms and the things that breastfeeding women often suffer through trying to persevere with breastfeeding because they know it's best for their children.  I personally intend to breastfeed Peanut and any other children I may have for as long as it is mutually desired by both of us, my goal being at least a year (and hopefully longer).

If you've made it this far in my post, thank you for taking the time to read it.  I believe that there are many misconceptions about breastfeeding that lead to some of these attitudes, and I'm out to educate.  I hope I've accomplished my goal.  I truly and wholeheartedly welcome any comments, whether you agree or disagree.  However, I reserve the right to attempt to further educate. :)

End of rant. :)

Sweet Potato Success, and More.

She doesn't like bananas.  (Weirdo.)  She doesn't like avocadoes.  But sweet potatoes:

Took a taste all by herself!  I won't call it a bite, I don't think she actually got anything in there, but it's a start!  She also ate a couple pieces that I put in her mouth for her.  Yay!  Now I have to go to the grocery store and buy some more.  (By the way, this is my dad's old high chair.  Cool, huh?)

In other news, I took the kids to the library today for the first time.  The neighbor boy was over at our house when I decided I wanted to go, so I told him to run home and ask if he could come along but to tell his mom and dad that I would need a car seat for him.  He came back and said he could go, but his mom wasn't home and his dad "didn't know how to work those contraptions" so he'd need some help.  Then it started to rain.  HARD.  He lives behind us, so I told the older 3 to run over there and I'd load Peanut up in the van and drive over there.  So I got Peanut buckled in her carseat in the house, got her diaper bag together, and grabbed an umbrella.  Even with the umbrella, I got really wet getting to the van.  I put Peanut in, and realized I forgot her diaper bag in the house.  Grr.  So I ran back to the house and got it, getting even wetter, of course.  Got back out to the van, and I thought, Hey, I might want to put this in my blog.  I better get the camera.  So I ran back to the house again.  Finally ready to drive over, and now I'm soaked. 

I got there and his mom had just gotten home, and she got his booster seat.  (It doesn't even need to be installed; he just sits in it and uses the regular seatbelt.  Quite the complicated "contraption", I'd say.)  Since Nathaniel and Sophia's booster seats are in the way back, I told them to go out first.  We ran out to the van, and of course the door is locked because I left the van running and they lock automatically.  (Still pouring, of course.)  I had to run around the van to the driver's side to open my door and unlock the others.  I ran back and shooed them in and shut the door as fast as I could.  Then I went back to get Hanno.  He, his mom, and I ran out to the van again, opened the door, and Nathaniel and Sophia still weren't sitting down.  "What's going on???" I ask, not a little annoyed because I'm getting even wetter.  "The stroller's in the way!"  Crap.  The back seat is folded down and the stroller is on top.  I didn't even notice in my hurry to get them in.  Matt must have needed a little extra room for supplies he needed for the house (he's doing some work upstairs).  So I ran around behind, pulled the stroller down by the tailgate, and yanked the seat up.  Hanno's mom helps him buckle, and finally everyone's in and ready to go.  FINALLY.  I pulled out of the driveway, got about a quarter of a mile down the road, and Hanno announces, "I don't have any shoes on!"  AAARGH!  I drove around the block, pulled into the driveway, got out of the van... and it was only sprinkling.  Really?  Come on.  Grr.  Lovely timing, I must say.  Oh well.  We got there, read some books and got some to take home (on my library card; I'm not cool enough to sign them up for cards since I'm not the legal guardian).  And guess what?  After soaking myself further to go in and get the camera, I forgot to take pictures. 

Finally, Some Relief!

The high today was only 80 degrees!  It's been in the high 80's/low 90's all week. I do not do well in the heat.  I decided a couple years ago that because I don't like winter and can't stand the cold, I was not going to complain about the heat, no matter how hot it was.  I've been pretty good about sticking to that, but not complaining about it is not the same as not feeling it.  And, as it turns out, it's probably genetic.  Peanut does not do well in the heat either.  There's a famous story in my family about me as a baby being inconsolable on a hot day until my dad finally plopped me in a cool tub--and I shut up immediately.  Lucky for me that I know the story.  The first really hot day we had, Peanut was pretty fussy and I thought of a bath right away.  She's never enjoyed the tub so much as she has this summer.  Wet kitchen floors to prove it.

Anyway, a couple nights ago it was the worst it's been so far.  Yesterday we got a window A/C unit for the bedroom from my sister (for FREE, she's so awesome), but the hottest night this week found Peanut and me laying on the bed upstairs practically dripping with sweat.  And of course, she nurses to sleep, so our combined body heat made it almost unbearable.  We had a fan going but it was just moving the hot air around, not really helping with anything.  Matt and I have our big window covered with a blanket to keep the early morning sun out, but we pull it aside a little when we open the window so the air can get in.  I glanced over to make sure the blanket was moved over, and it was.  Still SO hot.  Matt got home from work at around 11:45 p.m. and found us upstairs, Peanut still awake because of the heat.  She finally went to sleep around 12:45, more than two hours past her average bedtime, and we both slept badly.

Next morning, I was putting clothes away and glanced over at the window.  And it was closed.  As it must also have been the night before, because I hadn't touched it since.

DOH! 

Oh well, we're still alive.  And we've been finding ways to keep cool during the day.

Playing in the sprinkler at home



Playing in the sprinkler at G&G Tomac's house.  We were invited over to spend the afternoon in the air conditioning, and gladly accepted.

I even put Peanut in a swimsuit.  She had a fever that day though, so not too animated.

Sorry, Grandma Tomac, I couldn't see the screen on my phone to know that this was not the best picture. :(  I wanted to stick it in though because I like Peanut's ponytail!

Gotta love free summertime entertainment!  (Well, free until I see the water bill.  But still worth it!)

Have a great day!  Stay cool!

Happy Father's Day!

Happy Father's Day to two of my favorite men!  God has truly blessed me.



My dad and I have always been close.  As much as "selfish me" wants Peanut to be a mommy's girl, she's got a pretty awesome dad too, and I hope that her relationship with her daddy is as good as mine is with my dad.  I think they're off to a pretty good start.

That's all for tonight!

Another First... Kinda

Peanut turned six months old this week, which means...  solids!  Matt and I (or should I say, I, with Matt's gracious support) have decided to do Baby-Led Weaning with her.  Basically, purees are out.  Babies feed themselves.  If you poke around on the website (or look around on the Facebook site) you'll get the idea.  It's pretty cool.  We can focus on feeding her whole, real foods instead of fillers (like baby cereal).  And because they say if a child is breastfed then "food before one is just for fun" (or, just for practice), we don't have to worry if we offer her food and she chooses not to eat it--breastmilk will supply all the nutrients she needs anyway.  She'll eat when she's ready.  Right?

So, Matt and I were sitting on the couch tonight after the older two went to bed, and we got onto this topic.  Talking about how she puts everything in her mouth.  And about how she's been really paying attention to us when we eat.  Matt says, "Hey, it's too bad we don't have any bananas."  I say, "I could run to the store.  The kids have been asking for chocolate milk but we're out, so I could pick up some of that too."  And all of a sudden we're kinda excited--woohoo, Peanut's going to have real food!  Yay! 

So I went to the store and got bananas, chocolate milk, and a couple avocadoes, since they were ripe and they are supposed to be really good for babies given that they are high in calories and "good" fats.  I came home, nursed Peanut (always give babies solids after they've nursed so they're still getting the bulk of their nutrition from breastmilk), tickled her so she wouldn't fall asleep, set her in the highchair, got the camera, and gave her a couple chunks of avocado.  And waited.

And waited.

And realized...

I hate waiting.  I want to be in control.  She was just sitting there, so I put some avocado in her hand (that took some finagling) and waited again.  Nothing.  Maybe she doesn't get it.  So Matt put a little in her mouth.  Hm.  Nothing.  Matt says, "I don't think she likes it.  Let's try bananas."  So he got a banana and split it (like this, it's kinda cool) and put a "finger" on her tray.  And we waited.

And waited.

And still nothing.

I broke off a little piece and managed to chase down her mouth with it (she would not hold her head still), and I got this face: 

"Hey, Mom, remember?  Baby-led weaning?  Remember the baby?  That's me.  I'm not really diggin' this right now.  Can we just back off for awhile, please?"

Well, so much for that first.  If you can even call it a first.  I'll let you all know when it actually happens. 

Moving On

The older two kids and I have started reading chapter books together at night before bedtime.  We just finished our first one, Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder (the first in the Little House series).  I chose that one because it's a very easy read, geared toward very young children, and because I know Nathaniel likes history. 

Last April 15 was the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, and Nathaniel's class learned about it at school.  I'm not sure what it was about the Titanic or its story that caught his fancy, but he became instantly obsessed.  It was practically all he talked about.  He brought home library books about it.  We found a movie about it on Netflix.  (No, it was not the Leonardo DiCaprio version, it was a documentary originally filmed for IMAX narrated by Leonard Nimoy.  That didn't stop him from asking his bus driver to borrow her copy of the other version, though.)  Any time he had a question about it that I couldn't answer, we got on the internet and found the answer.  And as annoying as it was sometimes (well, a lot of the time), it was cool to see him so engaged in something positive.  And we both learned a lot.  For example, did you know that the Radio Act of 1912 was passed in response to the sinking of the Titanic and made it U.S. federal law that all ships had to have a radio operator on duty at all times?  When the Titanic was in trouble, the radio operator sent out distress signals.  They were picked up by a ship called the Carpathia, which came as quickly as it could but it was too far away and arrived too late to save the majority of the people on board.  There was a ship that was much closer--the Californian--but its radio operator had gone to bed for the night and there was no one to pick up the signals.  Had there been someone manning the radio, many more people would have survived.  (See how much smarter I am because of my son's obsession? :) ) But anyway, the talk of our house for a good six weeks was that "unsinkable" wonder.  And it wasn't just our house.  Anywhere Nathaniel went, people heard about the Titanic having four smokestacks and how Captain Edward Smith wanted to go down with his ship.  So when Grandma T. was out rummage-sale-ing and saw a chapter book about kids traveling back in time to try to save the Titanic, it was a no-brainer, right?  Which brings us back to last night.  It was time to choose another book, and since Nathaniel is older than Sophia and has a longer attention span (this reading time really is geared toward him), I gave him the choice.

And he chose another Little House book instead of the one about the Titanic. 

Whoa.

Don't get me wrong, I think it's awesome.  I love the Little House books and I was hoping that he'd get interested in a different time in history, which it seems like he is starting to.  But when we were smack in the middle of the Titanic phase, I thought I'd be throwing a party when it was over.  I was sick and tired of hearing about those four smokestacks and about how the "Titanic" that Nathaniel was going to build, called the Buttanic (his spelling), was also going to have four smokestacks and hold anywhere from six hundred to one million people (the number changed every day).  But now I'm kinda sad.  Not sad, really...  more nostalgic, I guess.  That stupid sunken ship was such a big part of our lives that I'd think about it even when Nathaniel wasn't around.  I have a picture saved on my computer of an iceberg, showing the part that's under the water (much more than what's above the water, btw) that I came across somewhere and kept meaning to show Nathaniel because I knew he'd like it.  But oh well.  We'll probably read that book together eventually, maybe after the Little House books are done, and if we don't, it's ok.  I'm happy that he is getting interested in other things, but it's just one more reminder that time is moving forward and kids are getting bigger all the time and things don't always stay the same.

Maybe I'll just read the new Titanic book on my own.

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This is a collage Nathaniel made when his class was learning about fabric at school.  The top green flowery rectangle is the Titanic (note the four smokestacks), and it's hitting an iceberg (the white thing on the right).  The brown thing underneath it is the Titanic on the bottom of the ocean.  (The IMAX movie on Netflix was a documentary about finding the Titanic on the bottom of the Atlantic.)  Below that is a fish (dark green) hitting a tiny iceberg (hard to see, it's that green and white stripey thing to the fish's left).

Here's the picture of the iceberg.  Cool, huh?  It's a neat poster in general.  I think someone might have posted it on Facebook.

June 12, 2012--Inaugural

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

Peanut is six months and one day old today.  The days are passing so quickly!  Time really is just a long string of consecutive moments, but if you're not paying attention, those moments get lost in the blur.  I know most of my moments will pass by me unnoticed, but my goal is to hang on to as many as possible.  I've never been one for writing in journals, and let's face it, if I had one it wouldn't last long in my house anyway.  (Anything that can be held in hand can be set down, buried, and lost forever.)  So this is my feeble attempt at a system to hang on to those moments that won't get lost or destroyed.  Internet, don't fail me now!

Today's moment won't be too hard to hang on to (with or without the internet):  Nathaniel can ride a two-wheeler now!  It was a big moment for him and his daddy.  We took all three kids out on the East River Trail, Nathaniel with his bike, Sophia with hers (with training wheels), and Peanut in the Moby wrap.  I love having that trail so close to home.  It was perfect for our purpose today:  nice and smooth, wide, and relatively un-busy.  It didn't matter that we were all moving at different speeds, Nathaniel trying to race his daddy, Sophia trailing behind a ways with her bright pink princess helmet on her head, and Peanut and I strolling along slowly at the back, enjoying the birds and each other and the scene ahead of us. 

I am so proud of Nathaniel.  He passed through that major rite of childhood, learning to ride a bike.  Matt and I were talking later and I was thinking about why learning to ride a two-wheeler is such a big deal.  Of course it's a great thing to be able to ride a bike in and of itself.  But if you think about it, it's a lot to ask of a young child.  It's scary at first.  And when you're scared, your first instinct is to back off and go slowly.  But if you ride too slowly, you tip over.  You have to ride quickly if you want to stay upright.  A child either has to be able to wrap his head around that concept, or just trust that it's true when we tell him, in order to overcome that natural inclination to be too cautious.  Nathaniel, I think more than most six-year-olds, is afraid to mess up, so for him to get past that fear and just GO without overthinking the matter or getting scared is a huge accomplishment for him.  He was positively beaming tonight.

It was his moment.