Boo

My family celebrated Halloween until I was 10; then my parents decided it wasn't exactly extolling Christian virtues so we quit celebrating. But it was too late. I already had 1o years of Halloween infused fun so I just took a hiatus until I was no longer under their roof. Now that I have a little kiddo Halloween festivities have resumed. The Gavinator was the cutest little arachnid! Here are some pictures from tonight (and from his birthday party when I put him in his costume for the grandparents).

The first house where someone was home, our neighbor Trevor and a fellow transportation engineer Ryan works with from time to time. Trevor's cat did NOT like Gavin crawling around in his living room - he arched his back and his fur poofed up a bit; it was hilarious!

Our neighbor Jeff (wife Katie not pictured) and daughter Hattie.

Cruising the halls of Keller Williams (my former office).

Seeing a baby dressed up in a spider costume crawling around was to cute.

Chillin' at Starbucks where we met friend Jenn.

The spider vest didn't bother him so much but the hat drove him nuts as evidenced by the hat on the floor that he is staring at.

And for giggles... can anyone guess what word this cartoon "spells"?

Time

When do we become aware of time? More specifically, when do we become aware of the passing of time? It seems as children time is something we will to go by, and to please go by quickly, already! Time seemed to stand still as a child. I remember my mom granting me 15 minutes to play across the street with the neighbor kids when, judging by the house associated with the memory, I was under 6 years old. That quarter of an hour seemed like all of the time in the world. I also remember it taking forever to eat an apple and that half an apple was a big snack. Oh, to be filled up by half an apple.



The first 18 years went by so slowly although time did pick up its pace in passing as the years went on, especially high school. Time in Junior High felt like it stood still then picked up pace in the high school years; probably because I was starting to enjoy school and was becoming comfortable being me; just residing in my own skin. I wasted so much time wishing I was someone else when the people I wished I was were probably doing some silly self swapping wishing of their own.



On some level I knew that time was precious and limited because my dad died so young, when I was so young, but I still did not appreciate the gift of life and of the limited time we have with the life we are given. My eyes were opened a bit for the first time to the rapid nature of time passage in my senior year of high school, in PE - the class I hated most. It was in the Fall because I planned to get PE over with so I could fully enjoy my senior year and made sure my requirements were met early. In class that day we were jogging some number of miles, probably 3. For at least part of the jog around campus and the adjacent football stadium, McKenzie stadium, and its woods I was with my friend Wendy - or I think was because she was in my little vision. Maybe it was an after school jog which I was crazy enough to do from time to time when I wanted to get into shape.



There we were jogging in the woods near the football field chatting about what ever it was we chatted about - probably boys - when I had the most surreal vision. I felt like I was looking at us from outside my body; I was looking down on us, jogging on the brown dirt path strewn with Evergreen needles, idly chatting, waiting to get on with life and finish this last year of school and I saw it all, that very event, as a distant even of the past. Time shot forward into the future like an arcing flash of light and I was sitting in a rocking chair reflecting on this distant memory from my youth.



That event was just my first real introduction to time passage. I am now keenly aware of how quickly it passes. It gets faster and faster with each passing year feeling shorter and shorter than the previous year. Having a child accelerates time passing like nothing else. The more I want to hold on to the time I have now the swifter it passes. I feel like I'm holding on to sand and trying to hug it close to my body in a vain attempt to keep as much as I can.



My baby is a year old now. A year! Heck, it's been two weeks since his birthday, he almost 13 months old. Was it only yesterday to my mom that I was a baby? That her brood was still in her nest? My nest isn't full but I already anticipate that it will be empty in the blink of an eye.



Part of me wishes that I wasn't so acutely aware of how quickly time passes but if I wasn't aware would I appreciate the time that I have with loved ones less? Can one be in a perpetual state of thanksgiving and awe for what all that one has?

Sleep Training

A new parent has many concerns. First and foremost they want to know their child is healthy. Every sneeze, cough, rash and vomit has the new parent turning to their new parent handbook (for us it was The Baby Book by Dr. Sears. We outgrew that phase. I don't think I've cracked the book open in at least a month.

Some concerns are more about the parents and less about the baby. The biggest of which is, "When will the baby sleep through the night?" It is one of the first questions family, friends, co-workers and strangers will ask, "How does he sleep?" If your answer is a groan as you rub your crusty eyes and absent-mindedly run your hands through your hair which causes you pause as you think not about the baby sleeping but when was the last time you washed your hair, then you will get lots of advice on how to ensure the baby sleeps, or promises that the baby will sleep when he reaches 10 pounds, or 15 pounds or 6 weeks, or 10 weeks or 3 months or 6 months. At some point people just look at you in disbelief. How can he not be sleeping through the night? What on earth am I doing to him to make him wake up?

Gavin hasn't slept through the night since before we went on vacation in April. True. For 2 or 3 glorious weeks he slept 10-12 hours a night. It was amazing. It was short lived. So very short lived. It gave me a taste of rest.

Recently Gavin's schedule has been to wake up 3 times a night. The first feeding didn't bother me because I was awake anyway. 11-3-6 (roughly) has been his schedule. This past week he has been waking up every 2 hours which is obviously unacceptable. So here I am at 1:30 in the morning, awake. Tired. So very tired. He woke up at 11:45 and I went into his room to offer him some milk (ala bovine) but the more I tried to offer him his sippy cup the more he screamed. Seriously. He was screaming. Forget crying. He wanted milk from the tap and he wanted to be in my arms and at said tap. Being the gentle loving mother that I am, I patted his back and spoke to him in soothing tones even though he couldn't hear me over the ear splitting screaming. I eventually left his room and within in moments he was asleep.

And so it has gone for an hour and a half. He screams, I offer his sippy cup and pat his back and provide some comfort and after being rejected I leave and he falls asleep for a few minutes. He has been asleep for 30 minutes now but I don't know if I should try and fall asleep or not. As soon as I drift off I just know he's going to wake up.

The next time he wakes up he get milk from the tap since it will have been 5 hours since he went to bed for the night. That is the goal. To get him to sleep at least 5 hours between feedings. He is certainly old enough. His doctor had me do this sleep training after his 9 month check up. She said it would take 3 nights and she was right. She also said right around a year or so to expect more sleep issues. Right again.

So we are back to sleep training. During the day I am making a great effort to feed him more solids and to give him a big dinner so his tummy will stay full longer.

I really need this to work. I am exhausted. Ryan really needs this to work too because I'm going to start calling on him on weekends to give me a night off. I can't believe I function as well as I do with so little sleep. Granted waking up with Gavin now is nothing at all like waking up with him when he was a newborn. Then just feeding him took at least 45 minutes. That was crazy.

I'm going to go to sleep now. And Gavin will take that as his cue to wake up. And round and round we go.

Birthday Fun

Here are some pictures from the Gavinator's first birthday party.

As my friend Wendy says the Costco cake is just an excuse to have a birthday party.



He wasn't sure what to do with the cupcake. He stuck his fingers in the frosting and examined them for a bit before sticking them in his mouth.



Still dainty with the frosting.



Back for more



I couldn't capture how hard he was sucking on his fingers in the photo. I half expected his fingers to come out just bones like in cartoons when they pop a chicken leg in their mouth and pull out a bone.





I think he likes the sugar



SO MUCH FUN!!!





Thumb sucking duo



Gavin's first balloons from the baby-whisperer herself, Jenn



Gavin & Laura



Gavin, Master Clapper



Sweet Family





Another of Gavin and his cousin Laura

Big Boy

Gavin's hair was getting quite long. I tried to trim it myself but the diagonal bang look didn't work on him; I don't think it works on many people. I was going to take him to a barber to trim his hair before his birthday but I am so glad it didn't work out. Well, it didn't work out with timing and I am too cheap even if timing wasn't an issue. I wasn't going to pay $14 for a baby hair cut. Really.

Monday I finally got around to his hair cut. Cut, Cuts and Kicks is a local barbershop up here on the Hill. I walk by it often on my way to the former Galaxie Espresso, now V3 (bought by Victrola coffee, so the coffee is the same) for a caffeine fix. I popped in and waited my turn. It was getting late in the afternoon and Gavin's mood was deteriorating by the second. He wanted to crawl on the floor in the hair trimmings. The barber swept up the hair shavings but when you are cutting hair its a losing battle so I tried to keep Gavin occupied with lots of monster noises while Mommy 'ate' his tummy (Gavin's, not the barber). The young boys were probably annoyed that they heard, "I'm gonna get you! Argh, rowr, yum, yum, yum," followed by shrieking baby laughter instead of the sports casters on ESPN. Sports casters are lame, anyway. Their jokes are lame and they talk to each other as if the entire viewing audience is in on their private jokes. NEWSFLASH: We aren't! We are watching the FOOTBALL game and don't care about the LAME Basketball jokes you are making!

So, it was finally Gavin's turn so I sat in the barber chair and held him. He was surprisingly still for having an electric razor whirring around his head. I told the barber that I didn't want him to have a big boy hair cut. He asked if I wanted him to take the sides in a little. I said, "Yeah. But just a little, though."

Apparently "Big boy haircut" is not an official hair style and I should have been a little more specific because my baby is now a little boy! Ryan keeps telling me that even though he looks older he doesn't act older. Men just don't understand.

Here he is, my baby:

Neurotic

I'm not a perfectionist. Not even close. I've heard it argued that people who live in squalor are sometimes perfectionists. It's not a complete stretch. When one wants everything to be perfect - the house, the car, the food, the clothes and they realize it is impossible they don't know where to put their efforts in cleaning as it all seems pointless because they can never maintain their ideal.

That still doesn't describe me because we don't live in squalor; not even close. It's a bit disheveled but I try to keep it clean even though papers stack up and pens and glasses are left scattered about but I will still vacuum, clean the sinks and scrub the toilet. Then when I'm cleaning the microwave I notice the knobs on the stove are a bit icky. I pop 'em off and clean then. Then I notice the pulls on the kitchen cabinets need to be wiped down. Then I notice the seam between the counter top and the cook top has an accumulation of food in the crevice so I scrub it and scrub it and when that doesn't work I get out the box of toothpicks to complete the job. Before you know it I've scrubbed the kitchen floor on my hands and knees because I mop so infrequently that a regular mopping just won't do and the base molding was also in need of some spot cleaning and *poof* an hour just flew out the window. And for what? A kitchen that will stay clean until the next meal is prepared?

Lame.

I'm sitting at the dining room table as I write this with my back to a messy kitchen that I can't clean right now for fear of waking Gavin and I face a mass of papers on the table that I'm not going through because I really don't want to and beyond the pile of papers are three baskets of laundry in the living room that need to be folded that aren't going to be folded tonight because I need to vacuum the area rug before I fold clothes (it's fold them on the area rug or on the kitchen table and it will be way easier to vacuum the area rug than go through the mountains of papers). But I can't vacuum because it is midnight and I would wake Ryan and Gavin. That would make for two grumpy guys. Not so good.

I did get one thing accomplished today (aside from washing and drying all of the clothes): clean sheets on the bed. Clean sheets are so nice; I really should change them twice a week but it is such a hassle because I take them off in the morning but never put them back on until the evening when Ryan is ready to go to bed. You think I would learn to put the sheets on before he is ready for bed.

Not for the reason you think. It is not about getting the bed ready before the bread winner is ready for his hard earned sleep. It is about putting the sheets on the way I want them on. It about getting them on without being hassled by said bread winner.

A few things from nursing school have stuck with me. Making a perfect bed, as it pertains to sheets only, has stayed with me. Anyone who has gone through nurse's aide training or nursing school is taught the fine art of making a hospital bed (and often making a bed with an immobile person in it). I used to tuck the top sheet in on both sides and at the foot of the bed and make perfect 45 degree corners at the foot of the bed. Making corners with the sheets on my bed at home is borderline certifiable craziness. Since I can't stand the top sheet tucked in I no longer tuck them in but each corner of the bottom sheet has to be secure in its attachment to the mattress; the elastic has to reach all the way around the corner and rest on the underside of the mattress. There can be no buckling and bunching on top at the corners. The sheet needs to be stretched and taut, no waves and wrinkles.

I'm not done. The top sheet. It needs to be smooth and wrinkle free with an equal overhang on each side of the bed with the foot board end of the sheet tucked neatly down the foot board but not under the mattress because that would be silly since we don't like our sheets tucked in.

Believe it or not I've dialed back the crazy as related to the bed sheets because I used to have specifics for the pillow cases as well (the seam of the pillow case and the opening of the pillow case all had to be just so).

If there was a question before I think the above settled it: I am neurotic about the sheets on my bed. But there is a catch. They only have to be perfect the when I first put them on. The day after I put the clean sheets on I don't go to any great measures to make the bed. I pull the top sheet up and make a half hearted attempt to pull the duvet up over the pillows. That's it. So, yeah, I'm a little crazy. I admit it.

People, what do we do with crazy people?

a) poke them with a stick
or
b) let them be

You smart folks chose 'b', I just know you did.

What does my beloved husband do? He pokes me with a stick! When we are making the bed at night with the clean sheets he enjoys trying to get under the top sheet before I've smoothed out the wrinkles. He likes to throw his pillow on the top sheet as I'm trying to put the top sheet on. He likes to do the last corner because he knows he can't do it as well as I do - he always says its impossible to get all four corners on.

I know I'm a bit crazy over this matter of seeming little significance but let me have my bit of crazy! I'm not hurting anyone. Not yet at least.

Don't mess with my sheets.

Trains

My friend Tauryn had this posted on her Facebook. It made me laugh.

Eye Catching

I don't have much to say about it. It just caught my eye, that's all.

Eh?!

The Vice Presidential debate is over and the speculation about how Sarah Palin would do has been put to rest. We all know how she did because we as a nation watched with baited breath. But how did she do, really? John McCain was talking to supporters at a rally today saying, "How about Sarah Palin? How did she do last night? Wasn't she great? Eh? Eh? Eh?" It was almost as if he himself was in shock that she did so well (and by well I mean she didn't completely choke).

He, as a 72 year old, should really re-think the use of "Eh" in his speech. If his waxen, death warmed over look doesn't highlight that he is well into his seventh decade on this planet the use of, "Eh" certainly does the trick. Another word I would like to strip from his and Sarah's vocabulary: "maverick". Gag me. Like, totally. With a spoon.

I was very disappointed in the debate last night for many reasons. First, I was really hoping to be able to laugh at Sarah Palin. Yes, I know that sounds very mean spirited, but, I don't care. I was expecting something along the lines of the Katie Couric interviews. I figured if she choked when asked hard hitting questions like what her choice of reading materials included before joining the McCain ticket then I just knew that she would spontaneously combust when asked about foreign policy or health care. Second, she used her time to answer the question given to her to talk about whatever struck her fancy. Third, because she was so warm and charming (to which I say puh-leeze) and was able to speak (in circles like a dog chasing his tail, mind you) the American sheeple thought she was wonderful.

But, alas, there was no spontaneous combustion; nor were there answers to the moderators questions. There were lots of sound bites and "ya know" and "joe six pack" and soccer mom references. And for the love of all things dignified QUIT WINKING! Is she trying to seduce the vote? Is there some inside joke we are supposed to be laughing at?

Me and my home girls forsook our bible study to watch the Biden v. Palin smack down. Joe Biden wasn't the only one sighing and Sarah Palin wasn't the only one rolling her eyes last night. We agreed that watching Biden and Palin on the same screen seemed a bit surreal. There was the elder statesman of Joe Biden giving clear, concise answers to the moderators questions. He spoke from experience and knowledge and it seemed as if he knew what he was talking about. He spoke with conviction and I believed him. In stark contrast to Joe Biden's direct answers were Sarah Palin's "answers" to the questions - if she chose to actually answer the question posed to her, that is - where she spoke in circles and was trying so hard to connect with the "average American" but when she quit speaking we knew no more about her and McCain's policies than when she first opened her mouth.

And just who is this average American she is trying to connect with? Is the average American duped by her? Does it only take saying, "You betcha" and calling herself a maverick and a soccer mom to get to the White House? Really? I for one do not want an average American as President or Vice President. I want an exceptional American to lead this country and I believe that one who is exceptionally bright would have no problem agreeing to a live interview.

As painful as the Katie Couric interviews were to watch (and as great as the SNL sketches with Tina Fay were to watch) they did help Sarah Palin in the debates because the bar was set so low that all she had to do to be declared victorious was to give a lucid response without the gleam of terror or panic in her eyes that Katie Couric's hard hitting questions seemed to elicit.

This election is momentous in that it is historic with a black man running on the Democratic ticket and a woman running for VP on the Republican ticket but it also seems like a sick joke. McCain was so desperate to capture the Hilary vote that instead of looking for a qualified candidate to run with he looked for a woman and is trying to make her into something she is not: qualified. Who would have ever thought that someone with less than a full term as Governor of the 4th smallest state in the Union and 6 years as Mayor of a town that is a fraction of the size of the school district I grew up in, could be so close to the Oval office?

Unreal.

I wonder how I would have voted if McCain had selected a different running mate. Would he have had a fighting chance? Is Palin's supposed success in last night's debate enough to make up ground they lost after her interviews were aired? Is she going to be stuck in a closet from now until the election?