Happy Easter

Here's a little sugary goodness for you. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by life's obligations at the moment (the giant wooden monstrosity in the backyard isn't the only towering, unfinished project ahead of me), so as you can see, blogging is on the back-burner for a little while. I'm going to try to make the time to post more often than I have this past week, but I'm not going to stress myself out about it. I'd rather be happy in the real world than prolific in the intarwubs. I'm sure you'll be able to find some other amusing diversions in the mean time.

xoxo,
Summer

P.S. Photo courtesy Chocolate Moose Cakes

meditations on motherhood

A while back I got a comment from someone who thought that if I was feeling so angsty about having another baby I wasn't ready for a second child. It was one of only a few anonymous comments I've received and probably the first that wasn't completely flowery and supportive. Obviously, the commenter only wanted to offer some well-meaning advice, but I felt very defensive at the time. What do you mean I shouldn't have another child? Do you think I'm a bad mother? Am I a bad mother? I sure bitch about it a lot...

My blog is an open forum and by its very nature invites strangers to comment, but I don't make any money on this and it's principally a journal, so part of me felt that I didn't have any responsibility take (what I viewed as) criticism gracefully. Still, I tried to write a balanced response that didn't scream, "Mind your own business!" The whole episode made me realize how happy I am this blog runs under the radar and I don't have to worry about fielding less-than-glowing comments everyday.

Heather Armstrong recently wrote that she would be appearing on Oprah in a show about confessions on motherhood - a subject that is of obvious interest to me - so I recorded it. (And by the way, I would NEVER want The Wyrd Sisters to be as famous as Dooce is. The emails she receives would crumble me in 2 seconds.)

Most of the women on the show talked about how hard motherhood is, and how our expectations of what we should be able to achieve are so astronomically difficult, they're impossible really. Because we all think we should be The Perfect Mom, there is a culture of silence in which mothers put on a happy face at pre-school drop-off and never let on how overwhelmed they feel. They believe they're the only ones doing it wrong, the only ones who don't have it all together. And the fear that they will be judged for their choices keeps them from opening up to other mothers - mothers who are going through the same exact things.

Luckily the tide seems to be turning. More women are making connections with flawed, real mothers like themselves online - women who are brave enough to show the good, the bad, and the ugly face of motherhood. I feel very lucky to have found a group of women in my real life who have grown with me as a mother, whose children have grown with River, and we all find a way to express both the challenges and the delights of motherhood. Friends, family, my husband, this blog, and other blogs all give me an outlet to bitch about and celebrate it all.

I don't feel alone, but still, I often do feel inadequate. So it was fantastic to hear something that made me feel slightly less guilty about my shortcomings as a mother. This revelation was almost a toss-away comment from one of the guests at the end of the show, but to me it was a kernel of wisdom one might find after months of intense meditation or years of therapy. The woman said something to the effect of: Loving my children is easy. Loving the job of motherhood, not so much. It's such an obvious idea and not really that profound, but to me it was an entire shift in perspective. It made me realize I'm allowed to separate my (mixed) feelings about doing the work of a mother from my immense and overwhelming love for my child. Really, what woman loves cleaning up puke, waking up every hour in the night, and calming a screaming toddler in the midst of a tantrum? You'd have to be insane to say you love those parts of the job. It let me see that I don't always have to be a cheerleader for motherhood and I can still be a great mom. I may not always do a perfect job and I may not always love the job, there is never a single moment that I don't love my child.

And that will be true with one child or twenty.

Random Tuesday Thoughts

After a week off, I'm back to do my RTT update! Let the randomness ensue...

• My 80 year old grandparents spent the past week in Africa, checking out the local wildlife. This is their second trip there. Since retirement they have been to Europe, the rain forest, Panama, Alaska, and a few other places I'm forgetting. Up until about 20 years ago they had never ridden a plane or left the country. Grandma says this is their last big trip. I hope you guys had a wonderful time! I know you have lots of adventures ahead of you - they just may not involve lions.
• We bought a giant play structure at Costco this weekend and I don't think we quite understood what we were getting ourselves into with this purchase. The four 9ft boxes (plus slide, plus hardware boxes) required the rental of a pick-up truck to get home. If we had tried to tie that thing to the roof of our car, it may have made it around the block before flying off into oncoming traffic or crushing our car completely. Add the 1,000 lbs of playground sand we had to load - getting that thing home, unloading, returning the truck, and actually getting started took about 2 hours. We worked on construction (three adults building, one watching little ones) for another 5 hours and had to quit for the day on step 3 of 37. Two days later and I'm still sore. Do you think there's a construction fairy, and how do I get him to visit us?
• Insomnia is lots of fun. It's like a present your brain gives you that you didn't ask for and don't want. Thanks brain. You're awesome.
  
• River has a new friend. He's an invisible blue and orange monster that fits in his palm and goes by the name R-River. I never had imaginary friends that I can remember, but based on how fantastic this guy is, I wish I had. The name alone cracks me up. It's like some futuristic robot name. I know it's just a product of River learning his alphabet (R is for River), but I love that he used it to name someone. All of his other animals are named things like Monster, Big Bear, Little Bear. He can't say "this friend is a by-product of my subconscious and a figurative representation of myself." But somewhere inside he knows it.
  
• I'm in love with The Dollhouse. Really I would watch anything that Joss Whedon wrote (and if you haven't seen Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog yet, there is an empty space inside you that needs to be filled). So far the ratings on Dollhouse are bleh but I have hope that they won't Firefly this show and take it off the air before it has a chance.
• We went to PetCo the day we picked up River's monstrosity playset, hoping to kill some time with the animals before the other stores opened. When we walked up to the sliding doors at 9:45am, they didn't open, so I checked the hours posted on front which said open on Sunday at 9:30am. We did what any parent desperate for entertainment would do and pried the doors open. (What? You wouldn't do that? You're a better person than me.) The lady at the front of the store was very nice and said, "Sorry, we're not open until 10." A fact which should have been obvious from the doors having to be, you know, pried open. But my mother always taught me false-advertising is wrong and I made a stink about the fact that the sign on their door was wrong. We walked away, me feeling very smug and put out. When we drove past the door on our way out of the shopping center I looked at the sign again to reinforce that smug satisfaction; however this time I noticed what the sign ACTUALLY said was Store Hours: 10am, GROOMING HOURS: 9:30am. And then I felt exactly like what I was: a giant asshole.
• And just for the sake of saving the shred of dignity I have left, let's talk about snuggles. Snuggles are always good in my book. Yesterday River and I were killing some time at Whole Foods before a playgroup and about halfway into breakfast he had a snuggle attack and jumped into my lap. He then wanted to pretend it was naptime, saying "Night-night," asking for his (pretend) blankie, and telling me to rock him. It was pretty much the cutest thing ever.

Check out more randomness at Keely's place: The UnMom

and this and this and this

I'm having the hardest time focusing. I want to work on some HooberBloob projects, but my brain is completely scattered and I don't know which project to start. I want to write River's monthly update, but it seems like too large a task for my attention span right now. I need to fold laundry (that's been sitting in a basket for a week now) and do three new loads, but I have absolutely no desire to do that. And I feel like I owe my blog a funny, insightful post, but as you can see that isn't happening either.

I'm missing the sense of routine I had a month ago. Travel and guests and birthdays have disrupted my flow and my days feel a little cracked. I guess it doesn't help that during my precious morning sitter time River has become even more clingy and needy than usual. It seems like the moment I get focused on something, he charges in and cries for me to play with him. And how can I turn him down when he's so sad? I know I'm incredibly lucky to have this time at all, and I want to use it wisely.

Well, River is off playing trains pretty happily, I've just written a post (lame as it is), and I'm sitting at my sewing table ready to work. I just need to get started. So here I go...

Happy Birthday River!

On Friday my good friend Melissa flew to town from Chicago. On Saturday we celebrated my birthday in the grungiest (and most awesome) of fashions with SkeeBall and The Watchmen. On Sunday I turned 30 and spent my afternoon making cupcakes. On Monday we celebrated River's birthday with his toddler friends (16 in all). On Tuesday Melissa went home and River turned 2. You could say it has been a busy weekend.

The cupcakes were awesome, as were the blue and orange clown-faces on the kids who ate them. The google-eyed bubbles and fruit skewers (with straws) went over quite well. River is in love with the kitchen mommy and daddy made him. And I am ready for a long winter's nap. Here are some shots for your visual edification:

Birthday Countdown: 3 days to HOLY CRAP I'M 30!

So I've been remiss on posting my 30 Is Awesome list, and not actively thinking about the positive has left me in a bit of a funk about the whole thing. (Because if nothing else, isn't this list just a huge form of denial?) Over the past few days I've spent less time rah-rahing my awesome 29.99999 year old self, and more time thinking: I'm not ready to be 30! Isn't 30 just the beginning of the end?

I know some of you (beautiful, talented, successful) 30, 40, 50, hell, 80 year old women out there will find this sentiment incredibly annoying. I know it's wrong. For all of the 28 reasons below, I know it's wrong.

But in addition to helping me gauge how awesome I am now, looking back has made me keenly aware that I have fallen short on so many ambitions I had as a young woman. All that stuff I wanted to do... Be a great actress! Earn an actual wage doing something... anything! Fit into a size that's not in the double digits! ...all that stuff seems like monumental hurdles at this point. And I have to ask myself if I don't pursue those ambitions so hungrily now because I don't want them anymore, or if it just hurts too much to think about what I may never have.

I feel angsty and silly. I feel sad and old. I want more time to prove that I can do it better.

When I first started writing this list, I knew what the #1 "reason 30 is so much better than 20" would be. It hasn't changed. And it is the one thing that makes me know I am more resilient, creative, intelligent, talented, compassionate, strong, loved, and monumentally full-of-love than I ever was at 20. It's the one thing that makes it okay that I might never fit into a size 6 or win an Oscar. It's the one reason I would NEVER trade my life today for more youth. I bet you guessed what it is...

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The Number 1 Reason 30 is So Much Better Than 20:



2. "
3. "
4. "
5. "
6. "
7. "
8. "
9. "
10. "
11. "
12. "
13. I know who my life-long friends are. (Thank you, Jenn, for reminding me of that.)
14. Barack Obama.
15. I have a gray hair. Why is this "awesome"? Because I had it at 20 and there's still only the one!
16. Thom helps do laundry. (Okay, there's three times as much since I was a co-ed, but it feels nice to have someone to fold it with.)
17. I save myself immeasurable grief with the knowledge that creating myself is more important than finding myself.
18. I know how to wield power tools!
19. No more roommates who never do their dishes, no more renting places I can't paint or decorate.
20. Edgar and Poe, my two lovely kitties. (They're a perfect pair and I only had one of them at 20.)
21. No more cafeteria food! (Every meal in college made me feel unsatisfied and looking for more. I blame my freshman, sophomore, junior and senior 15's on that damn food.)
22. Listened to my son's first attempt at singing today.
23. I am an accomplished, tested, imaginative artist. I have had amazing moments on stage, written thoughtfully, and crafted beautiful works in the past ten years.
24. I have such a better understanding of my parents, and can appreciate their full awesomeness.
25. I know what city I will raise my children in.
26. No more desperate searching for The One. (I am so thankful to have a loving, stable, challenging partner who knows who I am and loves me for it.)
27. No more mid-term papers to write.
28. I can legally drink! (A no-brainer here. Not that I didn't have a cocktail before it was legal, but at 30 I can go into a bar without getting cold sweats worrying about The Man.)

Random Tuesday Thoughts

Here you go, RTT, jet lag stylin':

• When you're flying cross-country with a toddler and the man in the seat next to your husband and son says, "I totally understand - I have two toddlers myself; I'd switch seats so you could be closer to your family, but I have papers to grade and need lots of arm space" it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to shove his head up his ass. Revenge comes in the form of the pungent smell of an unchanged dirty diaper.
  
• New picture books from the grandparents = awesome! Carrying them home in your suitcase = back pain.
• Note to self: don't turn the heat off before a long trip away, even if it's 60 degrees the day you leave. Cambridge winters NEVER END.
• At the end of each verse of "Five Little Monkeys" River now says, "No-monkeys-jump-bed."
• Rehearsal of the birthday routine was a success! Thom, River, and I all have March birthdays, so we celebrated them with our families back home and told River it was a "practice run" for the real event. We sang Happy Birthday to You and he blew out his candles like a champ. Then he insisted we do it again.
• Perhaps letting River nap at 4:30pm was a mistake. It's now an hour past bedtime and he's still not asleep. Daddy has done one extra shift and I'm up next.

Check out some less-sleepy Random Thoughts at Keely's Place.

Number 11: Not allowed to join the Communist Party

We're enjoying the last day of our trip to Vegas (which explains the lack of posts this weekend). The purpose of our visit was to see Thom's surrogate brother, Scott, off to Afghanistan, where he'll be serving in the national guard for the next year. (Don't ask me why he's not, you know, serving NATIONALLY.) He pointed me in the direction of a blog his friend has written about all the things you cannot do in the U.S. Military (he's field-tested them just to make sure). Here are a few excerpts:

80. Not allowed to wear a dress to any army functions.

81. May not bring a drag queen to the battalion formal dance.

82. May not form any press gangs.

83. Must not start any SITREP (Situation Report) with “I recently had an experience I just had to write you about….”

84. Must not use military vehicles to “Squish” things.

To see 213 more examples, head over to Skippy's List.

...or a billboard saying "Have a Baby!"

Thom was out of town last night, leaving me to parent solo for the evening. Usually, this would lead directly to a post lamenting babies and their stupid baby needs and I'm so exhausted and can't he just take a nice bath and go to bed and why oh why won't he sleep?! BUT. This is not that post.

Much to the disappointment of my Long-Suffering-Mother persona, River was a fantastically agreeable toddler last night. In fact, he has been a fantastically agreeable toddler for quite a while now. That's not to say we don't have our moments. He gets tired, I get tired, sometimes we don't agree on what to do next (I say go for a walk, he says read the freaking mitten book for the thousandth time), and we work it out through pouting, tears, or compromise.

But compared to early motherhood these toddler days are an unimaginable breeze. When River was a few months old there were soaring moments of unbelievable joy...interspersed between horrifying messes, uncontrollable crying, constant neediness, and insane fatigue. The happy moments got me through the day, made all those hard moments worth it, but I was never under the impression that parenting was easy or without it's costs.

Today, the happy moments far outweigh the hard ones. I laugh easier, brood less, find more joy in play, and don't feel so overwhelmed by the task. He's such a happy little boy, and I would love to take credit for that, but really, it's just part of who he is. He loves people, he loves discovering, he loves the world and all it has to offer. He finds a way to make each moment fun. (Sometimes I don't like his expression of fun - stop throwing your raisins on the floor! - but if the alternative is an unhappy child who controls himself but finds no joy in life, I'll take my little rebel any day.)

Thom and I have been thinking for a while that we would like to have another child. It's always been the plan to give River a sibling, and the time seems right. But the time has seemed right for almost a year now, and I (obviously) have not been driven to make it happen. We'll wait until we're settled in the new house. We'll just get through the holidays. We'll wait until spring. There always a good reason to put it off just a little longer.

At times I miss that Baby River, the little, cuddly, fantastically squishy baby who melted my heart and took up every spare inch in my brain. While I can appreciate looking back with rose-colored glasses I know how hard it actually is. I am under no delusions that baby #2 will be easy. And subconsciously I guess I've been wary of messing up this great thing we have now. I am so happy. I love being a mother, and there were days before when I couldn't say that. Can I afford to bring another crying, needy, day-darkening child into our happy home? Can I survive another year of mothering an infant?

I don't know. Maybe? Maybe later, maybe tomorrow. Maybe it would be fantastic and I'm just brooding over nothing.

Now would be a good time for the universe to give me a sign about what to do. Something big. Like getting knocked up. That would be a good sign.

Random Tuesday Thoughts

Here's some more randomness, my friends...

• The pet store is a fantastic place to take a little one for some free entertainment. River and I went there yesterday (the cats desperately needing new litter), and he spent nearly an hour looking at the fish, reptiles, birds, and gerbils. I arranged it so our trip to see the critters was book-ended by errands to other not-so-fun places (getting a kid through Home Depot and Babies R Us without a meltdown is a feat of Herculean proportions requiring incredible luck and skill). Well, I did it!
• We have thoroughly destroyed the downstairs family room, but River's new kitchen is nearly complete. Now if someone could help me get sawdust out of the rugs I'd be great.
• Cambridge is a labyrinth: one way streets, awkwardly angled corners, six-point intersections - don't try taking three right turns to get you back to your starting point - it won't work. I drove the wrong way down a street yesterday and greatly angered the dude coming in the other direction (don't worry, it's a quiet street and there was plenty of room), but I did feel like an ass. Since I usually have an incredibly distracting toddler in the back seat, I'm surprised it doesn't happen more often.

• How is it this guy was in one of the most convincing love scenes I've ever seen? Thom and I watched Zack and Miri Make a Porno this weekend and I loved it. Romantic comedies like this are porn for women - there is nothing more satisfying than a good love story featuring real, flawed characters. Check out Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist for another great outcast love story.

• River has started singing this little mantra to himself every now and then: yee-haw-roar, yee-haw-roar. He'll be playing with his legos, taking a bath, sitting with mommy before bed and out will come this song. It started when his dad showed him a set of cards I made with some silly monsters saying some silly things and now he's yee-haw-roaring all the time. The weird apple does not fall from the weird tree.
• I don't know if my pasty white skin can handle all the promise of sun we've had lately (notice I say "promise"; northeast winters make a ray of sunshine peeking through the ceiling of clouds cause for celebration). I am so eager to get outside again, frolic in the warmth, and end this hibernation. I think River is ready too. Maybe all the yee-haw-roar's are just his way of dealing with the crazy-making winters here.

Want some more random? You know you do. Head over to The UnMom and say hi!

Birthday Countdown: 14 days to awesome!

Reasons 30 is So Much Better Than 20

Holy cow did the weekend just fly by! Here's a bit of catch-up on my list...

14. Barack Obama.
15. I have a gray hair. Why is this "awesome"? Because I had it at 20 and there's still only the one!
16. Thom helps do laundry. (Okay, there's three times as much since I was a co-ed, but it feels nice to have someone to fold it with.)
17. I save myself immeasurable grief with the knowledge that creating myself is more important than finding myself.
18. I know how to wield power tools!
19. No more roommates who never do their dishes, no more renting places I can't paint or decorate.
20. Edgar and Poe, my two lovely kitties. (They're a perfect pair and I only had one of them at 20.)
21. No more cafeteria food! (Every meal in college made me feel unsatisfied and looking for more. I blame my freshman, sophomore, junior and senior 15's on that damn food.)
22. Listened to my son's first attempt at singing today.
23. I am an accomplished, tested, imaginative artist. I have had amazing moments on stage, written thoughtfully, and crafted beautiful works in the past ten years.
24. I have such a better understanding of my parents, and can appreciate their full awesomeness.
25. I know what city I will raise my children in.
26. No more desperate searching for The One. (I am so thankful to have a loving, stable, challenging partner who knows who I am and loves me for it.)
27. No more mid-term papers to write.
28. I can legally drink! (A no-brainer here. Not that I didn't have a cocktail before it was legal, but at 30 I can go into a bar without getting cold sweats worrying about The Man.)

monsters and coasters

I've had a great time sewing on my new machine this week. I'm working on some simple projects while I get to know the machine before I embark on a massive embroidery piece I have bouncing around in my head. Here's a couple things from this week. They can be found at my Etsy shop:

really it's more like "super-sized"

Playing lego trash has become a daily game here at the Doyles. What? You don't know what "lego trash" is? Let me tell ya.

River overseas the building of a nifty trash truck out of legos and then one or two of a select few "guys" gets to fill it with more legos. Usually lego mommy ("ittle mommy") gets to load while "ittle daddy" pushes the imaginary button to smash it all in. The truck gets moved to the city dump where it drops its load and is filled up again. Sometimes River controls the lego mommy, sometimes Mommy does, but most often Mommy holds the monkey or bear who holds the lego mommy to do the work. As you can imagine, it's quite a feat of physical prowess to manage all of this.

The other day River was examining "ittle mommy" and noticed her "ittle butt!" A chant of "Ittle butt! Ittle Butt!" proceeded, and I said, "Yes, little mommy has a little butt." Finding it pretty hilarious, but also wanting to continue this lesson of little and big, I asked him if River had a little butt or a big butt. "Ittle" was, of course, the answer. Then, without prompting, he turned to me and said, "Mommy big butt!"

Thanks, River. Remind me to keep my big mouth shut the next time I try to teach you something.

Birthday Countdown: 18 days to awesome!

Reasons 30 is So Much Better Than 20

18. I know how to wield power tools!
19. No more roommates who never do their dishes, no more renting places I can't paint or decorate.
20. Edgar and Poe, my two lovely kitties. (They're a perfect pair and I only had one of them at 20.)
21. No more cafeteria food! (Every meal in college made me feel unsatisfied and looking for more. I blame my freshman, sophomore, junior and senior 15's on that damn food.)
22. Listened to my son's first attempt at singing today.
23. I am an accomplished, tested, imaginative artist. I have had amazing moments on stage, written thoughtfully, and crafted beautiful works in the past ten years.
24. I have such a better understanding of my parents, and can appreciate their full awesomeness.
25. I know what city I will raise my children in.
26. No more desperate searching for The One. (I am so thankful to have a loving, stable, challenging partner who knows who I am and loves me for it.)
27. No more mid-term papers to write.
28. I can legally drink! (A no-brainer here. Not that I didn't have a cocktail before it was legal, but at 30 I can go into a bar without getting cold sweats worrying about The Man.)

Random Tuesday Thoughts

• I woke this morning to find River had come into our room, climbed up on the bed, and put heart sticker on my nose. Then he walked out.
• Do you ever find yourself doing something completely useless, but you can't stop yourself? I feel that way after I've read an US Weekly cover to cover, watched a Jon and Kate Plus 8 marathon, or, like last night, spent hours scrolling through You Suck at Craigslist. Seriously. Don't look. You'll get sucked in and next thing you know it's 3am and you're covered in chip crumbs.
  
• I was at a coffee shop on Sunday afternoon and, as I was placing my drink order, I saw a basket of 50% off pastries. Who can pass up day-old pastries? Not me! I asked for a couple muffins and a wheat bagel. The woman behind the counter looked at me like I had mold growing out of my nose. "What kind of bagel do you want?" I pointed to the wheat bagel and said, "I'd like the wheat bagel, please." Oh silly woman, her eyes said. "That's a cinnamon raisin bagel." I told her I'd take it and walked back to the park (where Thom and River were waiting for me) with my partly-stale, cheap goodies. I am sitting here with said bagel next to me as I type, and there is nary a whiff of cinnamon nor a single raisin. VINDICATION!
• Thom went to take a shower while River was eating breakfast. He watched daddy go then bounced in his chair and said, "Jump! Jump!" I was puzzled for a minute. Then I remembered we always say, "I'm gonna go jump in the shower."
• For Christmas Thom got me a massage appointment for the first Saturday of each month this year. (Yes, I know how lucky I am to have him.) He spread them out over different spas to give me some variety of location, thinking if I found one I liked better than others, I could just reschedule the rest of the appointments there. After three sessions, I'm thinking I need to find a regular spa and a regular massage therapist. I just hate those initial uncomfortable moments getting to know each other. Basically, we're both thinking, "We just met, and one of us is going to be naked in a minute. But lets chat amicably like that's not weird." I need to find someone I'm used to being naked with so it's less weird. Right?
  
• It's here!!! My new sewing machine, which promises to do embroidery, file my taxes, and make dinner every night (well, it should, for how much it cost) is pristine and just waiting for me to come work my magic. So I'm off!

Get more RTT at Keely's place.