mother of two

I have a new son and his name is "Bear." River is very fond of this large, cuddly stuffed bear our friend J-man won at the Circus Circus in Las Vegas (word is he had to crush the hopes and dreams of a pack of 5 year olds to get it, so I feel pretty honored to have acquired the coveted prize). We've had Bear around for almost a year now, and over that time River has developed a real friendship with him. He carries him around, plays under "tents" with him, pushes him up his bunk bed ladder, and generally treats him like a friend.

In the past week, though, Bear has become a member of the family. It started the other day when River dressed him in a fireman hat and pulled him behind him for hours. I love the idea of River creating an imaginary friend from his critters - it was a favorite pastime for me when I was little. But the damn hat wouldn't stay on his head, so every thirty seconds--as River pulled Bear from room to room--I'd hear, "Bear! Hat! Bear! Hat!" and have to replace the offending headgear. Then I tried to get all three of us upstairs for lunch and picked both "boys" up and started climbing. You would not believe to squeals I heard. The squealing continued for twenty minutes until I finally followed River's pantomime's downstairs and let him push Bear up, step-by-excruciating-step. River just wanted Bear to climb up like a real boy, and would not give up that idea until it was done.

After that whatever River was doing, Bear had to do too. If River read a book, Bear was right next to him. If River had lunch, Bear was on the seat beside, drinking from his own sippy cup. When it was necessary to do a diaper change, Bear had to have one too, and River then insisted poor naked Bear needed clothes. He's been a shadow to our every move this week, and like a little brother to River. He takes naps, puts on his coat to go outside, and takes car rides with us. He likes chocolate milk and has a habit of catching on fire (so River and his fireman "guys" can put him out).

This was not how I imagined life with a second child, but it could be worse. At least Bear doesn't wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

goodbye and hello

Since becoming a mother almost two years ago, I've had little time (and if truth be told, inclination) to pursue any acting work. At the moment, I feel safe to say I am on an indefinite hiatus from acting and don't know when or if I'll go back to it.

Instead, what started as extreme nesting syndrome has slowly developed into a passion for creating things for the home. As this new year begins, so does a budding home business in which I will make toys, artwork, clothing, and home decor to sell online. My focus will be on children, but some more subversive ideas may develop into an adult (no, not like that, you dirty people - just "grown-up") line as well.

I'm in the process of finding some childcare so that I actually have time to make things, but once that is settled, I'll be excited to get up and running.

Of course as all of this is in the works, I found in my email today a message from a director I worked with a few years ago. Turns out the festival circuit was a dud but someone liked his movie enough to add it to the IMDB list. Which means, as a cast member, I can be found on a pretty legit database. I checked it out this morning and found out a few of the movies I've been in have had at least moderate success promoting themselves, because I'm listed under three films. Crazy, no?

Needless to say I'm pretty happy that all those years of work led to at least the minor appearance of success. It's funny that it should come now, just as I'm ready to tuck that chapter of my life into a box and store it way. I feel a sad little loss of identity in making an official goodbye to acting, but I also know that should the time come, I can happily dust that box off and begin anew.

overheard in the bathtub

Thom: "Eye. Patch. Eye. Patch."

River: "Eye...patch. Aaargh!"

River News: Month Twenty-One

Dear River,

Happy 21 months! Between traveling, Christmas, and New Years, this one kind of snuck up on me. It wasn't until about 9am on New Years Day, as your dad and I were lounging on the beach in Cabo San Lucas, that I realized you had officially turned one month older. You spent the day making your grandparents swoon and giggle, while your dad and I basked in the sunshine and drank margaritas--a wonderful way to kick off a new month and a new year.





































So much of this month has been consumed by making and (as little as I could possibly get away with) buying presents that I'm having a hard time thinking of all the wonderful kernels of how you've changed. One reason I was able to accomplish so much (three stuffed animals and 32 placemats sewn!) is that you have learned how to entertain yourself for longer and longer periods of time. Now, we're talking five minutes here, ten minutes there, but compared to the constant attention you demanded just a few months ago, this has felt like an eternity to me. Five whole minutes without reading any books, pushing any trucks, or doing any silly dances?! That's an insane bounty of time!



















When you have those happy independent moments it's hard to actually use that time wisely and not to just watch you dreaming up your own world. You make little games of tearing up paper and throwing it away, coloring abstract expressionist art, talking to your critters and "guys," and I am dying to know what's happening in the amazing labyrinth of your mind.










































As your language keeps growing and growing, it's easier to figure out what you're thinking and what you want. You've just had an explosion of words this month, putting little sentences together like "make playdough" (the cutest word in the world, which sounds like "pay-oohh") and "mommy tickle." The words you are learning faster than any other are names for people and pets. Our kitty Edgar has gone from "Ger" to "Egger" and in addition to Dadu and Nanu (my parents) you've started saying "Ama and Apa" (for daddy's parents, Oma and Opa). Cousin Sydney ("Neyce"), Uncle Nelse ("Unc"), auntie Jenn ("Jar"), Auntie Crystal ("Tanta"), Uncle Kevin ("Unc Kev") have all enjoyed hearing their new River names.



















This month we went to Las Vegas to celebrate Christmas, and you had an extraordinary time. You slept well, ate well (as well as a toddler can be expected to), played with everyone, and seemed to have no trouble spending time with any of the million people paraded in front of you. Your dad and I took this opportunity to go away from you for the first time, leaving you with the grandparents while we had a little Mexican holiday over New Years. It was four days of bliss for all of us. You were on your best behavior for the grandparents, and dad and I were able to relax, read books, and only occasionally pine for you. By the last day, I was really ready to see my little guy, and as soon as I broke through the airport customs door, I ran over and swooped you up. And, true to form, you said, "Dadda."



















Apparently, all that good behavior was very draining on you because the next day you were a pile of whine and fuss. The flight to Boston was the roughest we've had yet - 40 minutes of straight screaming - but once we got back in our own house with our happy cats, you found your way back to sane.

























I was going to start this next paragraph with something like: "The theme of this month has been Get Away From Me Mommy! You have decided that your dad is just the bees knees and you want to be near him constantly. Meanwhile, I'm as appealing to you as a week-old slab of spam. Any effort to show affection or love is met with a firm, "No!" No hugs, no kisses, don't hold me, don't touch me, you silly mommy, you. I know this is a common phase for toddlers. Suddenly that life-giving, all-powerful, pure source of love - the mommy - turns into a not-so-fun robot set on the verbal repeat of "No." Daddy is exotic - he's away for most of the day, so he's not around to tell you not to eat food off the bathroom floor or to shove you into uncomfortable snow boots and coats 15 times a day. I get it. I do. Dad is rad, and mom is the stuff you want to scrape off the bottom of your shoe."



















However, since we came back from Vegas, this severe distaste for all things mommy seems to have faded, and you've gone back to being my cuddly, funny, mommy-loving boy. It's amazing what a few extra hugs can do for my mood. After a little session of snuggling and peek-a-boo in bed yesterday, I felt like I'd been mainlining opium. Whoo hoo! Look at all the colors! I'm sure we'll go back to the grumpy-gus at some point, but I'm drinking these moments in right now.




















This has been a hard and wonderful year. More than ever I feel like being a mommy is the most difficult, most rewarding, most life-fulfilling job ever, and I cannot wait to see what 2009 brings for all of us.



















I love you love you love you,
Mommy

kickin' it oldschool

Reunion
a play in One Act
by Summer Doyle

Scene: 1am, my parents' living room
Props: empty beer bottles and pizza boxes
Characters: 7 friends from high school

(When we enter it is already late in the evening. We hear the animated discussion of people who have not seen each other for years. There is a lull in the conversation.)

Someone from the crowd: So. Are we down for charades?

(They proceed into a rousing game of charades in which the boys beat the girls by a sliver. Much celebration and hand-wringing ensues. People hug goodnight and wander off into the chill night air.)

End of Play

Note from the author: We are just as cool today as we were back then; which is to say, not at all.

bathroom humor

A tell-tale stream of bubbles floated to the surface of the water as River sat in his bathtub tonight. Blip, blip, blip...POP! He looked down between his legs and saw a couple more bubbles - products of his little toots - float up and pop. I giggled adolescently and looked at Thom. I guess River thought it was hilarious too, because he looked at me with expectation and asked for more.

I don't know what tricks his uncle Kevin is teaching him, but this is comedy gold!

seriously, what do I do all day long?

I... you... just.. what? There are no words to describe my feelings about this woman's question. If any of my friends feel this way, see Carolyn's response for a pretty accurate description of my day.

where's the dado?

Ever since Thanksgiving River has been thinking about his grandparents a lot. At least once a day he says "Dado" unprompted, and it is usually followed by the signs for "airplane" and "grandma." This prompts a conversation about how Dado (my dad) flew home on a plane with grandma, and yes we had so much fun when they were here. Then we talk about how River and mommy and daddy are going to fly on a plane to see them and Oma and Opa (Thom's folks) for Christmas.

These aren't one sided conversations by any means. He initiates ideas, fills in thoughts for me, and seems to understand that we'll get to see his grandparents soon. It's so exciting for me to see him developing a relationship with them, to see that he thinks about them, that he misses them. I miss them too.

"I want to do it!"

Examples of the "big boy" syndrome we're currently experiencing.

• will only brush his teeth with Daddy's huge, Sonicare toothbrush
• wants to scrub his feet with mommy's loofah every night
• determined to eat with his fork, even if he has to pick food up with his hands to get it on there
  
• likes to practice sitting on the potty (like mommy and daddy), though he has not yet gone pee or poo
  
• wants to climb stairs unaided (he will swat me away if I try to put a hand on him)
  
• likes to tell the kitties when they're doing something wrong
  
• is refusing to sit in his high chair for dinner because he wants to be in a regular chair
  

River News: Month Twenty

Oh my sweet boy,

You have had quite a full month. It seems that you are firmly in the throws of TODDLERHOOD, and by that I mean you are still mostly your sweet, considerate, funny self... except when you're not. And when you're not, you are an out of control caveman. ME WANT seems to be theme of the moment.





















For the past few days we've seen the most primitive behavior emerge during bedtime. Me want splash! Me want story! Me no want sleep! Last night we followed our usual routine: bath, jammas, stories, and - nope - nothing after that, because instead of moving onto songs and bed, you cried and cried for your favorite book. We'd already done quite a thorough job of reading Katy Caboose and when we went to turn off the lights and snuggle in for song time, you cried and cried, "Boose! Boose! Boose!" It was pretty much the toddler equivalent of "Read it again, dad." You screamed "Boose!" for a good twenty minutes before you finally wore yourself out in daddy's arms. More and more you find any excuse you can to extend bedtime and avoid that torturous moment of laying down to sleep. You make the hungry sign, you ask for juice, you ask for mommy, nope, what you really meant was daddy. If you thought it would get you out of bed I'm sure you'd ask for a glass of pickle juice and a heaping plate of haggis.
















It's made for frustrating moments and hilarious ones (the night you hopped out of the bath dripping wet and ran around holding your tush comes to mind), and I know you're just testing us and asserting your independence. But my boy, you need sleep, and momma and dadda need a sliver of time alone at the end of the day, and neither of those things are coming easy lately.
















None of this is helped by the fact that you've been sick almost every day this month. I suspect it's because your system is adjusting to the lack of antibodies since weening but the informed doctor we saw this week assured me in her most condescending voice that, no, it's just winter and kids get sick. Either way, illness brings out the primitive beastie in you, which means we all get to look forward to the very long winter ahead of us.





















When not acting like the missing link, you have been a lovely, adorable little man. We hosted Thanksgiving this year and you got to spend lots of time with your grandparents and great-grandparents. Grandma Frankey was beyond delighted that you warmed up to her this trip. She's been waiting for a great-grandchild to show her a little affection, and the hugs, kisses, and smiles you showered on her have made her a happy lady. You were particularly thrilled with grandpa Terry this time around, and though he's a great guy, I'm sure the M&M's he kept sneaking you didn't hurt.
















When they arrived on Tuesday, we put my dad and grandpa to work right away, assembling cabinets, hanging them, and fixing a bunch of stuff around the house. You saw the men at work and went right in to help with a hammer and a screwdriver. It was the sweetest thing to see all those generations working together. A few days before he had to go home, you spontaneously started calling grandpa Terry "Dado." I tell you kid, you know how to make a heart melt.































All the grandparents got some great moments with you - coloring with grandma Julie, getting tickled by grandpa Jack, making playdough shapes with grandma Janie, and eating turkey sandwiches with grandpa Terry. You have also thoroughly charmed your little cousin Finn. The moment he sees you, he wants to do what you're doing and eat what you're eating. He crawls after you, watching with wide open eyes to see what you'll come up with. In return you treat him like a little brother: a little antagonizing, a little helping, and a lot of giggles.
















Thanksgiving itself was a great day - we cooked and cooked and ate and ate. But my favorite moment came after the dinner when we hauled ourselves up and went for a walk to take some of the pressure off our belts. It was a short trek - just a few blocks in the direction of Harvard Square - and about halfway down we saw two fire engines pass with sirens blaring. You were thrilled and, as usual, asked for more.





















You had forgotten about the trucks by the time we walked a few more blocks and ran into the fire station. One of the garage doors was open, so we decided to have a look around, and just about the moment you peeked inside, the two fire trucks returned to the station. There we were - eleven of us scattering like mice to make room for the trucks - and I kept thinking how put out the firemen would be we were in their way. After the trucks were in, we gathered to quietly make our way home, but oh no, the fire chief came out of his truck and did the most amazing thing. With a huge smile on his face, he made a bee-line for you and said, "Does he want to see the trucks?! Come on in! Hey guys, leave the lights on."





















It was as if God had swooped down and asked if you wanted a peek at Heaven. You were dumbstruck - mouth open, eyes like saucers, paralyzed with joy. I think you were a bit overwhelmed, because you clawed onto me and couldn't get the nerve to climb on the truck or get too close to the firemen. I understand. It's a bit like meeting your greatest idol and losing the ability to speak. I was so touched by the generosity and enthusiasm of the firemen. Even though you were stone still and silent, and even though it was Thanksgiving night and they were at work and not home with their families, they poured smiles on you and welcomed us all. They made sure we stuck around while one of the men got you and Finn fire hats and stickers and coloring books and they sent us off into the night feeling very warm in spite of the icy air.





















Of course as soon as we turned the corner, your stunned silence was broken and you asked for more.

You are so heart-breakingly lovely, my darling boy. And I love you more than you could ever imagine.

Mommy

Happy Thanksgiving

Our Thanksgiving has been full of ups and downs (mostly ups). I've spent hours in traffic, been pulled over and ticketed, enjoyed the company of grandparents and great-grandparents, had an abundance of wonderful food, delighted in my son's squeals of laughter, watched River and his grandfather build together and share turkey sandwiches, been woken by a sick toddler for hours and hours, and shared a warm snuggle with the love of my life. I couldn't be more thankful.

happy thoughts

Thom's home and all is right with the world.

On a completely different note, I bought my first real pair of winter boots today and they rock! What have I been doing all these years with stupid Payless knock-offs? No more! The foot rebellion has begun!

(As you can see, I'm still a little tired from this past week....)

day... what the hell day is this? my brain is dead

I guess we're on day 3 of 4. Doing okay, but... no I can't finish that sentence. Tried to come up with something witty, but all I'm hearing is a giant WRRRR WRRRR WRRRR sound in my brain. Baby still alive. Patience nearly gone. Where's the beer?

day one: so far... okay

River had a good day yesterday - we played at the park, both had good naps, and went to the toddler group at Stellabella in the afternoon. River seems to have an aversion to the group sing along, though, because as soon as the free play part is over and we get in a circle to sing, he starts a litany of "go, go, go." Poor guy bangs on the door like an inmate. This is torture. Don't make me siiiiiinnngg!

Last night Kevin and Crystal were kind enough to let us over and cook dinner so I didn't have that extra task on my plate. Plus it filled up the roughest last couple hours of the day. He went to sleep pretty easy - not a surprise considering how much activity we'd had during the day.

One short wake up in the middle of the night, and up at 6:2oam. A pretty good start.

Today has been a bit rougher, so far. River is already missing his dad and acting out in silly ways. More clingy, needing to be carried more, fussier at meals. But he's down for his nap now, and I hope the rest of the afternoon goes a little bit better.

I've taken a new zen approach to meltdowns. This morning we went to Darwin's for breakfast before heading to the Natural History Museum for a playdate with my moms' group. After a short time in Darwin's he was begging to, "Go, go, go." It was too early to go to the museum and too cold to just hang out outside, so I held off as long as possible. Finally, when it seemed like we'd killed enough time, I tried to get his snow suit on so we could get out the door, but he went limp and wouldn't cooperate. Instead of fighting him and manhandling the suit on, I called his bluff.

"Fine, you don't want to go? I'm okay sitting here and finishing my coffee." He looked totally confused that I wasn't playing into his hand, and just sat there for a minute. After a little while he was ready and put on the suit with no complaints. Chalk one up for the mommy!

single mom for a week

This should be an interesting week - and by interesting I mean it could be like that visit to the dentist office where you unexpectedly run into an old friend or you end up needing a three hour root canal. A grab bag of fun!

Thom left for work this morning and, because of some intense out of town meetings he's running, he won't be back until Friday evening. That means it's just me and River with no buffer for four days and three nights.

River's been doing a great job of sleeping through the night lately (knock on wood), but even when he is his most cooperative and cute, I still feel pretty wiped out by 6pm. Getting through those last few hours without Thom is hard, and getting through them three nights in a row is almost unthinkable.

Still, I've prepared myself as best as possible. I'm putting low expectations on myself in terms of housework and projects, I'm vowing to nap, and I've planned playdates/outings for every day this week. That should keep us from going stir crazy with boredom, and having other moms and babies around always takes some of the pressure off.

If I don't post much this week don't assume the worst. River and I could be having a grand time - too much fun to sit down on the boring computer. Or I could be crying in the corner hugging a bottle of vodka. You never know.