It’s not like I spent hours in the kitchen, carefully preparing a fine, delicate dish or anything. But Miss Camille LOVED the spaghetti I made for lunch, and I was flattered. I guess it wasn’t technically spaghetti – it was spaghetti sauce and hamburger meat, but I used rotini instead of spaghetti noodles because they’re easier for her to pick up.
Camille gobbled up the pasta so quickly I barely had time to cut up the next piece before she was asking for more. I can never put much on her tray at once, because she’ll shove it all in her mouth until it’s so full she can’t even chew. But if I paused to take a bite and left her tray empty, she’d protest by slamming her hands on the tray. Impatient? Yes. Adorable? Absolutely. Lee got this video of my happy but hungry eater:
Last night, Lee and I were discussing how well his business is going. The one downside to all his success is that he has a client overload, and often has to work at night and on weekends to keep up with demand. After we talked about work for a while, I paid our bills and went to bed. Then I had this dream:
Lee and I were on vacation in Montana with Anna and Jason. We’d driven our pick-up truck (imaginary, since we don’t have one) to some state park, and were all in the parking lot. Suddenly, several grizzly bears sauntered in to the parking lot, weaving around the cars and in and out of the surrounding woods. No one seemed too worried, so I just pulled out my video camera and starting recording them.
Anna and Jason went inside the visitor’s center while I kept rolling on the bears. Then, another bear popped out of the woods – this time a huge polar bear. People seemed a little more leery, so I took a step toward our truck.
I was getting terrific video. The bear was standing up on his hind legs, roaring, with his mouth open wide revealing massive teeth. But then, he plopped back down on all fours and began loping in our direction. Startled, Lee and I jumped into the truck for safety, but I kept recording.
He continued our way, until he abruptly stopped and lunged after a man in the parking lot. It was horrible. The polar bear began swiping at him with his huge paws and claws, knocking him around like a ragdoll and then biting him. I quit rolling tape, knowing I’d never want to relive the horror in front of me, and feeling that we had to help.
“Lee! We have to do something!” I said, while the man shrieked in pain. “Let’s try to hit the polar bear with our truck.”
Lee looked skeptical.
I added, “If we can just knock the bear down, maybe the man can get away.”
Lee reluctantly put the truck in drive, and rolled toward the bear. Slowly. Admittedly, the bear would be hard to hit without also hitting the man, but I felt certain we had to try. I hoped Lee would speed up at the last second and ram the crazy animal.
But instead, Lee began backing up, then turned the truck around and drove out of the parking lot. Astonished, I asked him, “What are you doing? We have to help him!”
Lee replied, “Look. I have a lot of client work to do, and with the way gas prices are these days, we can’t afford to keep trying to help.”
When I woke up, I’m not sure what disturbed me more – watching a man get mauled by a polar bear, or our pitiful excuse for ditching the rescue attempt!
Hello sweet girl. Sweet, big girl! Do you know what’s hanging on our refrigerator right now? Artwork. Your artwork.
I could hardly believe it this afternoon when I picked you up from baby school. As I was holding you and giving you kisses, Miss Pam handed me a little slip of paper you’d colored on earlier in the day. Your first bit of artwork from school! I stood there staring at it, feeling like I could cry because you seemed so grown up all the sudden. Grown up enough for crayons. And I am quite proud of you.
Yesterday, you moved up to the big girl class at baby school. I didn’t think you were going to – even the manager didn’t think you were ready. But they had some space in that class and decided just to let you play in there for a little bit to test it out. They all thought it would probably take several weeks (or longer) to transition into the new environment.
Yesterday morning, I was a little nervous for you. I hoped the change wouldn’t be too stressful. We’d picked out a naptime mat and washed it the night before. It’s purple and blue with lots of little butterflies and insects with happy faces everywhere. After I put your name on it (and drew little hearts on the name tag), I put it on the floor in our living room to let you crawl around on it. I wanted it to seem a little familiar when they laid you on the mat at naptime. While you played, I snapped this picture:
You look so excited, but I think you were smiling more about the Everyday With Rachel Ray Magazine reorder form in your hand than about your naptime mat. You love paper. Little goat.
All day yesterday I wondered how you were doing, and was very eager to get you at the end of the day. As your Daddy and I entered the building, we ran into the daycare manager. She gushed about you, about how well you did, how much fun you had.
“I don’t think she’ll ever go back,” she said. It took me a minute to realize what she meant, then it dawned on me. You weren’t ready to transition into the big girl room, you were ready to stay there. No more baby room for you!
Not only did you play well, you ate all table food (no baby food mush thank-you-very-much!), you snacked on Cheerios, and YOU SLEPT FOR TWO HOURS ON YOUR NAPTIME MAT. I wondered if it was just a fluke, but today, you did it again. Your teachers patted your back for a while to help you drift off, but you were so worn out from all your playing that once you went to sleep you took a great nap.
I think you love the freedom you have in the big girl class. No more exersaucers and swings and playpens. You get to crawl from one end of the room to the next, playing with whatever and whomever you please. In this class, you’ll learn sign language, you’ll paint, use glue, and even start playing on the playground once you begin walking. It’s a whole different kind of baby school, and you seem to be blossoming in it.
Today, you got to pick out your own crayon when it was time to color, and you chose green. I like to think you picked it because it matched your little green dress.
So here it is, proudly hanging on our fridge. Your sweet, green dots on a picture of a woman signing the word “crayon.”
To me it’s a symbol of a shift in your development. There will always be a part of me that is nostalgic for every passing phase, but mostly I really enjoy watching your personality emerge. I’m so proud of you. I was proud of you the moment I found out you were growing in my belly, proud of you when you were born, proud of you today and every day in between. Thank you for being sweet, precious you. Mama loves you so much.
I know the Harry Potter books are written for kids, but let’s be honest. They’re complicated. And fascinating. So, in preparation for the upcoming release of the seventh volume, I’m re-reading volume #6. I’ve done this every time a new one comes out, backtracking a novel or two to be sure I am primed and ready to dig into the latest book. Am I a dork? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Too excited.
I haven’t been able to finish a book since Camille arrived, but I have a feeling Harry Potter will break that streak. I may not devour the books as quickly as before, but I think I’ll be motivated enough to read a little every night.
I just hope I can practice some restraint once the new book comes out. As the final novel in the series, it’s bound to be a doozie. I vow not to say, “Camille, go sit in front of the TV for a few hours. Mommy needs to read Harry Potter.”
However, I am looking forward to reading the books with Camille one day if she’s interested. A couple of chapters before bedtime? Sure thing. The books are long enough that we could probably carry out that bedtime tradition from 2nd grade all the way to high school graduation. And I’ll bet I still won’t mind reading them again.
I’ve been out of the business for nearly 2 years, but I still feel like I’m getting away with something when I have a holiday off. That was one part of my previous career that got old. Quickly.
So today, I was very happy to be spending Memorial Day with Lee and Cami, and we discovered something new. There is a park, Hull Park, that I forgot was in our neighborhood. I drove by it the other day, and was delighted to find a little kiddie spray pool. This morning, we slathered Camille with sunscreen and headed out there.
I really didn’t expect her to like the water splashing in her face. There were several spouts spraying water into the air and on the surrounding concrete steps. We gradually moved closer and closer until we were soaking wet, and she loved it! I’m glad we found it, and I know we’ll be playing there again soon.
My bones are weary and my muscles ache, but that discomfort is tempered by a feeling of accomplishment. Alva came to visit this weekend, and we seized the opportunity to knock out some house projects.
The biggest task was relandscaping the front yard. At one time, I think the front yard probably looked nice. There are several plants, but years of neglect led to overgrown beds that looked messy instead of manicured. So Saturday, we ripped out the old plants, cleaned out the beds the best we could, and installed some new plants. Then we added some pine bark mulch, and that anchored the beds and gave them a nice, orderly feel. This is the only pic I have of the yard when we bought the house. It’s hard to see much, but you can see the tops of the big, overgrown shrubs we had to remove:
Now, I think the chaos looks much calmer. Like people live here!
We were even able to salvage some of the old plants, and I think they make nice potted additions to our patio.
We also bought and hung new curtains for our kitchen, which are working out wonderfully. The sun had been streaming in the window, both blinding and cooking me in the late afternoon. Now, the kitchen is much cooler, and I like the added pop of texture.
Hanging the curtains reminded me that I never posted any before and after pictures of our kitchen remodel, which we completed a year ago. Now that was a nightmare. It took so much longer than we expected, and living without a kitchen for six months was a serious pain. But we’re very happy with the results.
When we bought the house, the kitchen looked like it hadn’t been updated since original construction in the 1930s. The concrete countertops were slanted to drain toward a huge, shallow sink.
The cabinets were so warped they wouldn’t even close:
And the floor was just a mess.
As soon as we moved in, Lee and I began demolition. We didn’t even unpack a single kitchen box in there, because we knew we’d never use that kitchen. This was the kitchen after just one weekend in the house:
Unfortunately, it didn’t start looking better for a long, long time. But thank goodness, I now have a kitchen I love.
We had the whole thing rebuilt – floor to ceiling, including taking down a wall.
As much as I enjoy this kitchen, we now hope it will be especially appealing to someone else: a potential buyer. I can hardly believe it, but we’re thinking seriously about selling our house. We’ll probably meet with a realtor next week to talk about the details and make some decisions.
There are several reasons for this, but one big reason is that our priorities have changed. Lee and I used to enjoy the challenges of an older home, but now, we’d rather spend that extra time with Camille. So those challenges quickly turn into burdens, and we need a lower-maintenance home. This is a great house, but doesn’t quite fit our current lifestyle anymore. In addition, Lee’s business is going quite well, and he really needs a proper office space. It’s a good problem to have.
I’m not looking forward to selling, buying and moving. But for now, I’ll just revel in all we accomplished this weekend, and hope it pays off for us soon.
Turns out, the woman at baby school who told me Camille would be moving to the “waddler” room on Tuesday was mistaken. I was talking with the other teachers today about Camille’s big move, when the daycare manager walked by and overheard. She pulled me aside to talk about it, and as it turns out, Camille wasn’t on her list to move up just yet.
“Now, if you really want her to go ahead to the next room, we can give it a try,” she said. “I just didn’t think she was quite ready yet.”
No thanks! I sprang at the chance to have Camille babied for a little bit longer. When I asked the manager when Camille would move up, I liked her answer. “I don’t know. Whenever she’s ready. They have their ways of letting us know.”
She’ll be in the waddler room soon enough, and I’m in no rush.
She likes the puzzle, but we may have to take it away. I think it’s possessed.
Camille has recently begun playing with this wooden puzzle. When you put an animal piece in its proper cut-out, the puzzle makes the corresponding animal sound. There is a horse, a dog, a cat, a fish, a mouse, etc. There is also a bullfrog.
Sunday night, long after Camille had gone to bed, I was shutting down the house for the night. She’d been playing with the puzzle in the living room, and it was still there on the floor. I turned off the lamp behind the sofa. The room grew dark.
“Ribbit. Ribbit.”
I turned the lamp back on. Lee was already in bed too. I was alone downstairs. I turned the lamp off again.
“Ribbit. Ribbit.”
Strange. I went upstairs, and at the landing, I switched off the last glowing hallway light. From the second floor, I heard:
“Ribbit. Ribbit.”
echoing from the living room. I dragged Lee out of bed, sure the phenomenon wouldn’t repeat with an audience. But sure enough, I turned the light back on, and when I turned it off again,
“Ribbit. Ribbit.”
What the heck? What kind of electromagnetic radioactive toy is this? She still enjoys playing with it, but I don’t trust that frog. Not one bit.
Happy 10 month birthday sweet girl! You’re in bed asleep right now, worn out after a fun day. The weather today was perfect – bright blue skies almost as blue as your eyes, with a warm sun but a cool breeze to keep you comfortable. We strolled around the neighborhood, played on the swings in Daffin Park, and went down to Riverstreet to watch the ships come in. On a day like today, it was impossible to stay indoors, and we all had fun.
What a big month it has been for you! In the last four weeks you have visited two oceans at two opposite edges of our big continent. They couldn’t have seemed more different to you.
Tybee beach, on a day when the sun was warm and the sand was obviously tasty:
Manzanita beach, on a cool day with a very chilly wind, where we didn’t even unwrap you long enough to put you down on the sand:
Brrrr! Although, you were a happy baby both times. In fact, you stay pretty happy as long as you have a full belly, some fun people around, and lots of things to pull up on. You LOVE pulling up, and sitting down, and pulling up, and sitting down. You’ve started walking from one piece of furniture to the next while holidng on – almost always with a hand on something, but considering letting go. Tonight, you were standing up and holding on to your Daddy’s legs, when for a brief moment, you decided to let go. You quickly plopped onto your behind, but I have a feeling you’ll try this again soon. And often.
Because you’re increasingly mobile, I wondered how our plane trip to Portland was going to go. How would you handle having to hang out in a relatively small space for 5 hours? Miss Babycakes, you amazed me. Not only did you not cry, you entertained the people around you when you weren’t sleeping. You loved standing up on my lap and grinning at the passengers behind us. And I could hear them oooing and aaahing over you. Here’s a pic your Daddy took of you hanging out while we were in flight.
You even entertained us in the car on our various trips around Oregon, jabbering at us and making the craziest faces. I swear I wasn’t punching you in this photo, but it kind of looks that way. You are adorable.
Sometimes, the faces you make are a bit more serious. This next picture made us laugh too because you and Jason are wearing the same very serious look.
Your buddy Jason was kind enough to send me a video clip that, I must admit, I have watched several times a day since it arrived in my inbox. He captured it in the Oregon Coast Aquarium, where we stumbled upon the Crab Dance. Do you think you had fun? I do.
At Anna and Jason’s house, one of your favorite things to do was to play with their alphabet refrigerator magnets. You’d pull them off the fridge, put them back again, or crawl around the house with a random letter in your mouth. I grew concerned when I saw you with this one though, afraid it was your first real episode of rebellion against the political ideals of your parents:
I felt better when I realized the “W” in your mouth could also be an “M.” I don’t know what political statement that might have been – perhaps it was just an M in your mouth.
Little girl, you really do seem to change a little bit every day. Whenever we’re out and about, people always stop to tell me what a beautiful, sweet daughter I have. Increasingly, they also tell me how quickly you’ll grow up. At the grocery store the other day, an older gentleman stopped me in the produce section to remark about your cuteness, and he told me, “You need to be sure to put a brick on her head.”
I was about to tell him, “Sir, that may have been an acceptable form of discipline in your generation, however…” But he followed up by adding, “because they grow up so fast.”
Wednesday, I found out that in just a week and a half, you’ll be moving up to the next class at baby school along with several of your other classmates. It’s not an “infant room,” and that freaks me out a little bit! But what I find most shocking is that there are no cribs. The babies still take naps, but on floor mats! That sounds like such a big girl thing to do! And are they nuts? You are a much better napper than you used to be, but I still couldn’t imagine saying, “Hey Camille, it’s 11:30. Go lie down on that mat over there and go to sleep.” I’m curious to see how this will pan out.
I’ll be a little sad when you move to the next room (they call it the “waddler room,” because you’re not quite toddling, but you’re starting to get your legs in motion and you’re too big to be with all the younger babies.) But I’ll be excited too. It’s fun to watch you grow and learn, and each new step is a new adventure. I’m looking forward to the adventures we’ll have tomorrow. Sleep well, sweet angel! Mama loves you very much.
Ahhhh. The smell of new plastic. The beautiful sheen of an unscratched, unsmudged laptop.
My new MacBook arrived yesterday. Lee and I had been talking about getting a new one because my old laptop (really a Lee-hand-me-down, but I was happy to have it) was starting to get quirky. It’s pretty old, and it was showing it’s age.
Then, while we were in Portland, I learned a very important lesson. Laptops are not baby toys. Who knew? Camille accidentally broke the monitor hinges on my old laptop while I was letting her type. (Thank you Cami!)
My new laptop seems great, and so far the transition from my old one has been seamless. I don’t have a name for it yet though. Still working on that detail…
