June Happiness Project recap

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In June I vowed to work on parenting. Being patient, making time for play, re-framing the less than happy parts about being a parent. When I started off the month, I thought my Happiness Project goals would be Kate-centered in that I would spend the month ensuring Kate’s happiness.

After reviewing my goals, I quickly realized this month’s happiness focus would not be about Kate per se but about me finding happiness as a parent. Parenting can make me exceedingly happy. Watching Kate take her first steps, master feeding herself, try to say “woof woof” when I ask her what the puppy says. That’s all the fun stuff. That stuff that makes you think to yourself, did I really make this little person? Is she really mine? Am I going to get to watch her grow up and learn to tie her shoes and take her to see the Grand Canyon and wave excitedly as I watch her graduate from high school?

And then there’s the not-so-fun stuff. The weeks where she fusses and fusses and fusses. Refuses to nap. Won’t eat her breakfast or lunch or dinner. Throws herself on the floor in a fit of rage when I won’t let her drink from the dog’s dish or toss my cell phone in the toilet. Those days, I don’t want to be responsible for another person’s cleanliness or sustenance or happiness. On those days I want to take a nap and check out of my role as caretaker.

But that is the funny thing about parenting. Just when you have had enough and reached the end of your rope, more rope appears. And you manage to make it through the afternoon and into the evening and give into a dinner of nothing but french fries and as you rock that baby to sleep, you think, really, there is nothing better than this. Those tricky kids.

Anyway, this month turned out to be more about me finding happiness in being a parent even when the going got tough.

Case in point: earlier this month, I became increasingly concerned about one of Kate’s eyes. I spend a lot of time looking at this kid, so I notice every little thing about her. We were playing around on the floor one day when I thought one her eyes looked like it was not lining up correctly. So, as soon as I put Kate down for a nap, I unwisely spent that time trolling the Internet and reading everything I could about toddlers and eyesight. I managed to convince myself that Kate had some sort of strabismus. And it was probably caused by something terrible. And it was most definitely all my fault.

So, of course, I called my own mother, tearfully relaying my worst fears. Something was wrong with my baby, I let it happen, this is a catastrophe. My mother, ever so wise, listened as I railed on and cried and gave myself the hiccups. After I was done melting down, she asked me if this is the mother I want to be. The mother who pushes the panic button when she does not even know for sure there is something to panic about. No, I did not want to be that mother. That mother who lets her anxiety get the best of her. I need to be that mother who is strong and teaches her children that if something comes up that must be dealt with, well, then deal instead of cowering and dreaming up all the worst case scenarios.

I took Kate to a specialist. We spent a good three hours at that appointment, and I told myself, whatever the outcome, I was strong enough to handle any scenario. If she has strabismus, well, then she has strabismus. And I will take care of it just like I have taken care of everything else. Had I learned nothing from The Jaundice Incident? Really, come on. I have fought harder battles than this, and there will be harder battles to come.

Turned out, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Kate’s eyes. The specialist said often these cutie pie kids with big eyes and upturned noses scare their parents into thinking they have crossed eyes because they give off an optical illusion. But she applauded me for checking it out since Kate is so young that if she did have something going on, it would be an easy fix. She said she wished more parents listened to their instincts and weren’t afraid to confront issues head on for the sake of their kids.

Big lessons this month. Being a parent can be a scary job. I am Kate’s advocate, and that’s a lot of responsibility. I don’t think parents say they are unhappy because parents loose their free time or because their kids refuse to sleep or because their kids throw temper tantrums in the check out line at Safeway.

No, I think parents become unhappy because of the tremendous responsibility that comes with parenting. At your job, you can kind of slack off from time to time, meander your way through drafting a report or what have you. You cannot slack off on your kid. You must feed them a healthy meal, you must take them to the doctor or a specialist if need be, you must look out for them and be their spokesperson. That is a lot of weight to carry. Sometimes the responsibility of a child’s wellbeing is crushing because a parent’s love is so deep and piercing. But that deep love can lead to unhappiness if I feel I am not doing my best, if something happens to her beyond my control. So this month I learned I am a good parent and to give myself some slack. It is okay – and good – that I am an attentive parent who calls the advice nurse line about suspicious looking poop. But for my own happiness – and for Kate’s happiness – I cannot let my blinding love obscure my good sense. And I need to be the type of mom who does not let herself panic, who takes control, who teaches her daughter that whatever comes her way, she can handle it.

June favorites

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Bumpkin Waterproof Super Bib: If you do not think a bib could change your life, think again. Fabric bib stink. You have to wash them, and I found that the velcro part would get stuck to our sheets or a shirt and pull on the fabric. Not cool. Plus, I do enough wash. I had another bib with a fabric-like backing, which was okay, but never seemed to get really clean. The other day I just about had it with bibs. I was holding off because I thought $20 for three bibs was kind of a lot. But, I thought enough was enough, and I deserved happiness. So I bought myself these bids (well, I suppose I bought them for Kate, but it is not like she cleans them), and I could not be happier.

See and Stamp letter stamps: When I scrapbook, I am huge into stamping. Specifically stamping words. I don’t know why. Maybe because I don’t like my handwriting. But in any case, I love these stamps. (I also have them in uppercase.) They are inexpensive and stamp beautifully.

Neutrogena Skin Clearing Foundation: My skin is like an oil slick, especially in the summer. I have tried a couple different types of foundation, and so far, this Neutrogena foundation seems like a winner. It is oil free and keeps me from getting shiny throughout the day. A light, even coat does the trick.

Game of Thrones: I don’t like Fantasy. Maybe that’s why I cannot get into Harry Potter. It is probably also why I cannot stand Lord of the Rings. So I hesitated when Dan suggested watching HBO’s Game of Thrones. He is reading the book series, and he had been telling me about it. I was not sure it was my thing. But, like a good wife (har har har, more like we were running out of shows to watch since our regular season stuff ended), I figured I would give it a try. I LOVE THIS SHOW. LOVE IT. It is not too fantastical. And I like the deep characters and how the stuff that happens – war, sex, poisoning, incest, bribery, trying to remain large and in charge – is based at least in part on historical reality. (I ordered the box set of the current four books in the series. After I get into the books, I will let you all know if I am liking them.)

Vaseline Intensive Rescue Lotion: I love lotion. I slather this stuff all over as soon as I get out of the shower. Try it. You will be amazed at how soft your skin is after applying this lotion every day right after you shower. I use Vaseline products year round to keep my skin smooth and soft. I particular like this type of Vaseline because it is unscented, so it does not interfere with any other scent I might apply.

What about you? Share your June favorites – I want to know!

Making it work together and apart: thoughts after three years of marriage

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What’s the secret to a happy marriage?

Separate bathrooms and a spouse who travels.

Today marks our third wedding anniversary, I have been thinking back on this year of marriage and what this third year has taught me about being married.

Kate was born just a few weeks shy of our second wedding anniversary, and we spent this third year learning to work together as spouses and parents. And we did work together, supporting each other, taking turns.

But I also spent a good deal of time parenting alone. And being alone. And doing things on my own.

Dan’s work takes him as close as his basement office to as far away as London. Sometimes he travels more than other times. Maybe he works from home for a solid two months and then I am on my own the majority of the next month. So I had to learn to parent by myself, make my own decisions, take care of the house and the dog and the garbage on my own.

The first time I had to go it alone, Kate was about six weeks old. I did not let myself worry about how I was going to manage it, the getting up at night, bathing Kate by myself, taking the dog out, remembering today was recycling day. I just decided I could do it. I would do it. I was going to do whatever I needed to do and do it just fine alone.

And I did. I learned how to take the dog for a walk while pushing Kate in her BOB. I filled up my days with playdates and park trips and errands. I carried Kate around in the Ergo, so I could get chores done around the house. I learned to sleep alone. I made my own routines.

Marriage isn’t always about being together. It is about being apart, too. A marriage will never be 50-50. Someone will be giving less and someone will be giving more at different times. And after this year, I found that good marriages are not just about being one unit but how you can remain in tact yet be independent. It might seem counterintuitive, being independent in a marriage. Because it is true that Dan is my greatest source of support and my best friend. But I cannot lean on him to the detriment of myself. It is true, we are better together. But because I am secure in myself, in my marriage, I am also good on my own.

My own American Girl story

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Samantha was my gate-way doll. I think I was about seven or eight when I got Samantha for Christmas after begging and pleading for her for months and spending afternoons after school paging through the American Girl catalog and imagining what it would be like to brush Samantha’s long brunette hair and to dress her up in her various Victorian get ups.

Oh, how I loved my American Girls. Samantha was my first. Followed by Molly and Kirsten. I could spend endless afternoons and all day during the summer months making up stories for my dolls to act out. I had a couple friends with dolls, so we took turns setting up American Girl villages in our basements where we could come up with elaborate stories based somewhere in between their historical period, which we somewhat understood, and 1994, the world we knew.

But I never needed my friends around to play pretend. I could dress them up and toy with their hair and make them talk to each other all on my own. And I got good at improvising. I desperately wanted all the American Girl accoutrements. The lovely trunks, the gorgeous beds, the sweet little desks. Each of these items cost, well, more than my parents felt was reasonable for doll accessories. So I made do with arranging the shelves on my bookshelf into bunk beds for my three dolls to sleep, accepting generic doll clothes to dress up my girls, and turning a tiny cupboard into a closet of sorts for their little clothes and shoes and hats. I dressed them in their PJs for bed, picked out an appropriate outfit for the day, and toted them around with me all over the house and in the car running errands with my mom, always ensuring they buckled up for safety.

They were more than just dolls. You could go get yourself any old doll at the now-defunct KB Toys or Service Merchandise. Sure, you could get a dolls with a plush torso and hard plastic arms and legs and head with painted on eyes and mouth. But those dolls looked like babies. You could not identify with those baby dolls. That was what made American Girls so different. They each came with a historical fiction book about their adventures during their time period. The Pioneer Era, World War II, early 1900s New York.

These dolls, these American Girls, were just that. Girls. Not dolls. Girls with stories and personalities. I wanted to be just like them. They were about progress and change and doing things your own way.

When I grew out of Barbie, I was ready. She no longer held any mystery or excitement for me. I saw her for what she was – 12 inches of plastic with a painted on smile and strangely arched feet and no real personality to speak of. But when the day came when I did not reach for my Samantha, Kirsten, or Molly to dress them in their outfits de jour and forget to take them with me to my friend’s house so we ended up flipping through Tiger Beats and painting our nails and when the American Girl magazine arrived and I left it unopened on the kitchen table, I knew I was done playing make believe stories. But while I grew out of dressing up Samantha for tea, American Girls still held a sense of enchantment in my mind. While some adults equate playing Pac Man or legos or pogs to their sense of childhood, American Girls always make me feel like I am eight again.

I still have my three American Girl dolls. The girls and all their things are kept safe in a plastic blue bin waiting for another little girl to turn eight. Another little girl to love them and brush their life-like hair and devise stories and subplots about making one’s own way along with the occasional tea party.

Childhood nostalgia

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When I saw this post from Kayla Aimee, I just had to play along. I, too, owned a Teddy Ruxpin, and I was just thinking about him the other day. And how I am not sure why I liked him because, now that I think about it, he was kind of freaky. Anyway, let’s commence with the childhood nostalgia:

1. My favorite childhood toy was: American Girl…followed closely by Barbie. I would elaborate, but I already have a super sappy and nostalgic post coming next week about my fondness for American Girl. Let’s just say for now that I spent an ungodly amount of time dressing up those ladies in their period outfits and thumbing through the American Girl catalog and wishing I could go back in time to befriend dear Samantha.

2. My favorite song from when I was little was: Fancy by Reba McEntire. I should devote an entire post to how I would recreate Reba’s performance of this song in my bedroom with a red bathrobe and a hairbrush. Consider this forthcoming.

3. My favorite childhood memory is: If we say “childhood” is the time from our first memory through elementary school, I would have to say the day my little sister was born. I used to dislike our huge age difference. Eight and a half years is a big gap. But how many people remember in detail the day their sibling was born? Most people I know are too close in age to their younger sister or brother to remember. But I remember vividly. It was March 30 in Chicago. It snowed the day before. My parents woke me up early and drove me to my school’s early childcare where I would have to hang out until after my mom had my sister. I barely touched my McDonald’s pancake breakfast I was so excited. I told everyone multiple times I was going to be a big sister that day. After what seemed like forever, my dad came to get me. I counted Megan’s fingers and toes, and I even got to wheel her down the hall in her little bassinet to get her first picture taken. She had on that ubiquitous blue and pink striped hat, and she did not look all that pleased to have her picture taken. I was in love. I don’t remember too many other details about our life with Megan as a newborn. But that day is forever embedded in my memory.

4. My childhood crush was: Yes, I agree with Kayla. JTT. Whatever happened to him?! I tried Googling him the other day, and I could not come up with anything of note. Oh, JTT, where are you?!

5. The thing I was most afraid of as a kid was: Agreed, I always worried my Halloween candy was laced with poison. But, to be fair, I was afraid of Halloween in general. Oh, and the Tooth Fairy and other assorted childhood characters. Hmmm..and tomatoes and onions. I really hated those. But my biggest fear, hmmm…I guess I would have to say getting separated from my parents at the mall or other retail establishment. One time I was at the mall with my parents, and I must have been about six or seven. My mom was in Talbots, and I was instructed to sit in chair and wait for her while she tried something on. This waiting seemed to last forever. Finally I saw her, ran over, and grabbed her from behind. That woman was NOT my mother. I was pretty freaked out. I found my mom and felt super embarrassed that I had just hugged this other woman. Now as a mommy, I get taken for other kid’s mommies all the time. And I try my best not to scare the heck out of them when they look up at me and realize this women in the sea of cargo capri pant legs IS NOT MY MOTHER.

How about you? Any childhood nostalgia to share?

Who done it

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Remember Baron? Yes, he’s the one who ate the sock that ended up costing $6,000. When we was a young pup, he was quite the handful. But he is a sweet boy at heart. The last time we babysat Baron, things got a little wild. In his defense, he was still puppy-ish back then. He wanted to be good, but it was JUST SO HARD. Now at just about three, he seems to have more or less harnessed his impulsive ways.

So my parents and little sister headed out on a cruise last week, and we took over Baron duties. Since we know Baron still has a fondness for ingesting the inedible, we kept things picked up around here, especially Kate’s toys. I don’t want to have to pull any foreign objects out of any dog’s rear end. Goodness knows I have embarrassed myself enough in front of my neighbors.

Now, I did let Baron play with Belle’s plush woodland creature toys I picked up at Costco a couple of months ago. The packaging claimed these stuffies to be indestructible. Ha ha. My Belle can tear anything apart, so I figured these would last for a couple hours at most. Surprisingly, Belle cared more about toting these around the house than tearing them apart, so they remained in tact.

Until yesterday. Some dog – and they aren’t saying who – tore apart the squirrel. Some dog ripped off the squirrel’s ear and picked the stuffing out of him. No one’s talking, but I think we all know who the culprit is in this scenario. But fortunately, the squirrel was the only casualty of the week. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, stuffing passes quite easily.

Sub zero

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Ah, cool.

As you know, I lamented that our A/C died on us on one of the hottest days to date this summer. Our repair man said the time had come. We needed a new unit. To the tune of $6,000.

What’s $6,000 compared to a summer of misery? Nothing. With summers the way they are in Northern Virginia where I bet you I could fry and egg on the sidewalk, A/C is just not an option. Plus, our other unit was so old that it lacked some sort of important safety features and hogged energy. Boo, hiss! So, we eagerly handed over our Visa card in exchange for relief from Northern Virginia humidity.

I made a little video documenting our new system. As you can tell in the video, I really have no idea what I am talking about when it comes to the mechanics of the HVAC unit. But, you get to hear my sounds-weird-to-me voice and get a more in-depth view of our new Trane system. Just what you were looking for on this Thursday!

If you are a Northern Virginia resident in need of a new HVAC or need your HVAC serviced, I highly recommend Aegis Air Cooling and Heating. Here’s to staying cool!

How I keep it all together: my favorite online organizational tools

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Nothing gets me more frenzied than disorganization. I like things to have a place and things to be in their place. And that desire spreads not only to the toys and clothes and paper and other stuff of life but also organized thoughts, ideas, and daily schedule.

When I first started my gig as a SAHM, I found that without the schedule of a traditional “work” environment, I felt at a loss as to how to schedule my day. Part of that problem was my newborn who seemed to operate on her own ideas of how the day should go, and I was supposed to just guess her next move. But soon I got to be a pretty good guesser, and I worked to create a manageable schedule.

Now, I don’t like holding things in my head. Well, I take that back. My mind is always spinning with things I want to do and stuff I need to get done. But I like to give those things a place to go instead of taking up valuable real estate in my head that I want emptied, so I can watch the latest Toddlers and Tiaras.

Anyway, after much pondering, I dreamed up my ideal scheduling/tracking system. Paper and pen would not do, I needed something computer based that could do the following:

1) I needed an online and desktop application, so I could use the system on any computer.

2) The system also needed to be available on an iPhone, iPod touch, and iPad. (Note: I only have an iPod touch in this moment, but I figured somewhere down the line if I was super lucky and the stars aligned, I could get myself an iPhone and/or iPad, so I wanted this system to work on all devices.)

3) I wanted the system to be one of those all-in-one things that could support a calendar, notes, capture screen shots, organize notes into notebooks, and keep running lists.

So, I know what you are thinking. Why don’t you use Outlook. No. I like the look and feel of the web-based gmail, so I was unwilling to switch to Outlook. Plus, I needed my Outlook for another reason (which will be revealed later this summer). So, no, not Outlook. I tried Microsoft OneNote. I liked the look and feel, but it lacked a calendaring system that, to me, is absolutely critical. I spent hours and hours trying to find the perfect calendaring/to-do/note taking system. I came close with Awesome Note, but it lacked a desktop or web-based feature.

After lamenting my inability to find exactly what I wanted in one system and after Dan refused to make me said system, I finally had to give up on my dream for an all-in-one online thought organizational system. Instead, I spent some time cobbling together what was available into a workable arrangement.

So, I thought I would share my system for keeping track of all the stuff in my head. Behold, my two weapons of choice: Evernote and Google calendar.

I am sure you just slammed your head into the keyboard because you thought I was going to say something groundbreaking. Sorry, I wish. Instead, all I can offer is a glimpse into my workable, albeit limited online thought organizing solution.

First, Evernote. Oh, I love Evernote. It meets several criteria. First, it is web-based, features an iPod app, and offers a download to your desktop. So versatile! That is crucial to my happiness. I want to be able to access my notes from just about anywhere. So, what notes, you ask? Evernote allows you to make as many notebooks as you want. So, I have a notebook for my meal plans (where I keep my grocery list and meal agenda for the week), a notebook for my blogging ideas, a notebook for recipes I find, a notebook for my Vienna Moms stuff, a notebook for my new, exciting work stuff to be revealed later this summer. This works great. Instead of keeping several different paper notebooks, I keep all my notes in one place. Evernote also does lots of other useful stuff like allow you to share a note via Facebook, Twitter, or email, and you can also clip webpages to Evernote.

At first, as a real notebook paper gal, I was not sure I would like the idea of paper-less notes kept all in one place. I was the type of girl who had a subject notebook for each of her classes in high school. I liked my stuff separated into distinct places. But, I was finding a paper notebook system too cumbersome. Plus, I had nowhere to keep all these notebooks and more often than not, Kate ended up ripping pages out. So, now I use Evernote for everything, and I could not be happier.

Okay, now to the calendaring. I was a lite Google Calendar using girl when I first got gmail. I thought it was…okay. I did not like how I had to create different calendars for different types of things. You know how you can categorize events in Outlook with different colors but everything is on the same calendar? I wanted Google Calendar to do that. But, rather than argue with the facts of Google Calendar, I just had to give in and use it as directed. So, I made a calendar for my personal stuff (doctor appointments, Kate’s doctor appointments, family stuff, friend’s parties), another calendar for my Vienna Moms events, and another calendar for blog postings. So, when I have an event, I just add it to its appropriate calendar. It was hard to manage at first, but now that I am used to it, it functions much like Outlook for me. I also integrate the use of Google Tasks into the calendar to serve as my To Do list. So far, so good. And much better than my previous Post-It system since Kate can’t remove these tasks from my desk and eat them.

So, that is my system. A combination of Evernote and Google Calendar keeps my thoughts organized. Neither are super sexy, but they get the job done. Hopefully one day that all-in-one system I want so desperately will become available, but, in the meantime, I get along pretty well using these two tools.

How about you? What online tools do you use to stay organized?

Herbs, continued

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Okay, what’s going on here with these herbs?

I posted here and here about my the beginnings of my little herb garden and the exciting moment when the seeds first sprouted. So, now it appears my Basil and Cilantro are doing their thing. I could use the Cilantro now if I would make a meal that features Cilantro, of which I don’t know any offhand. And I bet in a couple of weeks, I can start in on my Basil, and I already plan to make a bunch of pesto.

So, the Oregano, is that how it is supposed to look? I ask because my poor herb garden was infested with some weeds a couple of weeks ago, and I tried my best to pull all those suckers out. It was easy to distinguish the herbs from the weeds in my Basil and Cilantro pots because those both have a certain look. But when it came to the Oregano and Rosemary, I just wasn’t sure.

And, speaking of Rosemary. What is going on in that pot? I think my poor Rosemary is a gonner. This is sad because I had high hopes to make Rosemary focaccia bread. Well, for one, it looks like ants took over the pot and for two, I am not even sure that is Rosemary sprouting. For all I know, it is a weed garden.

Also, I noticed the Oregano seemed to spread to the other pots. Why can’t he stay in his own pot? I am not sure how that happened, but I suppose the wind carried some seeds in or it has to do with some part of plant-life-photosynthesis-thing I never understood in high school Biology class.

I hope this does not set the tone for my luck with gardening. That would be disappointing seeing as I wanted to be a successful herb gardener, so I could graduate to bigger things like tomatoes and the like next year. Dan is not going to trust me to start a bigger garden if I cannot keep the herbs alive.

So, that’s what’s going on with my plants. Can any dispense advice on those Oregano and Rosemary pots? Are they a lost cause? What went wrong? Why did the Cilantro and Basil do okay but the Oregano and Rosemary bit the dust?

Legitimacy and crafting

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I’ve been spending a lot of time recently thinking about legitimacy and judging the things I like to do as legitimate or not legitimate.

Take paper crafting. I am constantly inspired by the stylings of Ali, Elise, and Kal. And I want to pursue my interest in putting together stories via photos, paper, pens, and glue. But, I then I think my time would be better served vacuuming or folding the laundry or making a grocery list. That the things I like to do are not legitimate uses of my time.

Not because I do not think the idea of paper crafting is illegitimate. Far from it. Paper crafting is a giant industry. And these women (I say women because I just don’t know of any men) who design for paper companies make the most beautifully creative things. So while I believe paper crafting is a legitimate use of one’s time, that one is not me.

Why? Because these ladies are stars at what they do. Their stuff always turns out lovely and enviable. I don’t see myself as a “good” crafter, so, to me, it seems like a waste of time.

Yet, every time I manage to push that self-sabotaging beast out of my head and put together a mini scrapbook or art journal or any paper-related craft that means something to me, I enjoy the process. To me, it is similar to my love of blogging and stringing together a story to share with written words. But instead of using words, I use pieces of paper and stamps and random bits and pieces to journal my thoughts.

And after I finish a project, I always think, I should do this again soon. Like, tomorrow. Not weeks or months from now. But the feel-good feeling fades away, and I end up staring at paper cut outs and Sharpies and now-outdated photographs gathering dust on my desk for months and months.

So this little book is my attempt at a restart. To allow myself to do something for the sake of doing something. It can mean a lot or nothing at all. But no matter what, it is legitimate because I enjoy it. It is legitimate because it gives me a new creative outlet. It is legitimate just because it is something I like to do, and that is enough.