Slow Down, Summer

Slow down, summer. You move too fast.

I want to freeze time right now, right here. It's the end of June. The promise of a whole, beautiful summer still lies ahead. The weather has been perfect. Some would say a little too warm, I would say just about right.

I've been in my uniform of tank top, flip flops and shorts for over a week now. The main priorities have been to be outside as much as possible, enjoy water in some form as much as we can and to soak in every minute of this summer that will seem way too short when it's said and done.

I want life to be as simple as Rosie and I picking wildflower bouquets after dinner. I want it to be as simple as Buddy letting me hold him on my lap when the Look Park train goes in the tunnel, so I can inhale his sun-kissed hair. I want it be as simple as seeing Maggie and Scout's glee when I get the leash out for our quarry walks, and I want it to be as simple as Steve and I taking a walk together after our date night because we don't want to go home just yet.

The simplicity of summer is something I look forward to all winter long.

No dealing with coats, boots, hats and mittens. No wood stove to feed several times a day. Not having to pay for plowing. Not having to worry about icy roads.

This, right now, is what I've been waiting for. I'm trying to slow down summer in the best way I know how- by being present and being thankful for each beautiful day that comes our way between now and September.

Dear Rosie & Buddy

Dear Rosie & Buddy,

Your Great Grandpa Pease loved you.

Nothing made him light up more than when he saw the two of you running around his and gram's apartment, playing and sometimes fighting, too.

He fed both of you bottles when you were babies. He held you close, traced your little faces and hands with his fingers, and talked to you. As you got older and started walking and getting into things, he would lovingly say: "You little cuss!" and talk baby language like no one else could. Great grandpa made you both smile and laugh a lot.

He was well known for saying: "I need a kiss" in a very exaggerated, sad-sounding way, and both of you would be quick to run over to oblige. He often said that you two were the "best medicine in existence", and as I watched you both interact with him, I knew it was true.

The last three times you saw great gramp remain vivid in my mind. I told you both it was time to go, and Buddy, you ran over to Rosie to give her Elmo sweatshirt. Great gramp got such a kick out of this. He talked often, Buddy, about how you are "all boy", and "very mechanical" because you like to go around the apartment, touching every button you can reach, and even the lever that lifted great gramp's chair up and down. He thought you were something special. He talked about how he saw a lot of your other great gramp in you (who was also called "Bud"). When you walked up to his apartment, he would say: "Helloooo, Buddyyyy!"

The second to last time you saw him, Rosie, you were capable of going up and down the few steps between nana's house and great gram & gramp's apartment, and when great gram was out, you took it upon yourself to go upstairs by yourself and play around great gramp. He thought it was so neat that you came up on your own accord. He loved watching you play. He marveled over your imagination, and talked about what a "little lady" you were. You were his first great grandchild. You held an extra special place in his heart.

The very last time you saw him, when I announced it was time to go, you crossed your little arms and said: "I need a hug!", meaning, from great gramp. Of course, he was more than happy to give you one. We said our Love You's and Goodbye's, not knowing it'd be the last time.

I'm not sure how much the two of you will remember great gramp as time moves on. My hope is that you'll be able to remember him at least a little, and that pictures and videos will help. Just know that for a few years, you lit up his life like nothing else could. You made him so happy just by being you, whether you were a crying infant or in the midst of the terrible twos. He loved you through and through. Always remember that spending time with the ones we love is the best gift we can give.

Love,
Mom and Dad

What No One Tells You: Marriage Edition

What no one tells you about marriage is that:

- you might try to get romantic with your partner but the Beagle will be snoring so loudly it sends you both into hysterics.

- when you're in labor, walking the hallways at the hospital, and a popular song at the moment is LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem", your husband might take the opportunity to sing: "...every day (you're) shuffling..." and it will be completely true, make you laugh, and it will be one of the things you remember most about that night.

- you might find yourself starting to do weird things, like always making sure the volume settings of electronics are on an even number, because your husband prefers it that way, and then you find yourself developing your own superstitions about it.

- you might find yourself in disagreement about things you didn't think it was possible to be in disagreement about. Like the best way to cook bacon, pronunciations: en-velope vs. awn-velope, coo-pon vs. cu-pon, and if you should answer the phone when you don't recognize the number on the Caller ID.

Last but not least, what no one tells you about marriage is that when you marry the Right Person, you find yourself doing things you didn't even think you were capable of because that person believes in you more than you believe in yourself. The Right Person doesn't stand in the way of your dreams, the Right Person helps make them happen. The Right Person doesn't begrudge you time with friends, the Right Person says "Hey, you haven't been able to get out in a while. When are you seeing (insert friend's name here) again?"

The Right Person is your Best Friend, through thick and thin, beagles snoring and bacon frying.

Let's Talk Truth

It's so very exciting to tell people you're pregnant. It's such happy news. Everyone hugs you, tells you how great of a mom you'll be.

I wish someone had whispered to me at some point in my first pregnancy: "It'll be the best thing you ever do, but hands down the hardest."

Let's talk truth here: Parenting. Is. Hard.

I used to think the highest stress came from trying to get all the ads in and approved for the next day's paper in time.

Ha Ha.

Stress: Your baby crying incessantly. You are the only adult, you are the mom, the one who is just supposed to inherently know everything, and you cannot figure out how to make baby happy. You feed, you diaper, you soothe, you rock. Nothing works.

Stress: Said baby gets older. Has the ability to follow you from room to room, is teething, and is crying because they want to be held. You can't even go to the bathroom alone.

I would like to tell my pre-mom self: "I'm sorry you had a rough day at work. But did you get to go to the bathroom alone? Did you get an entire hour round trip in the car, by yourself, to unwind and listen to whatever kind of music you want? Enjoy those free moments that you take completely for granted."

Parenting. Is. Hard.

Some days there is so much crying, screaming and fighting between the two munchkins that I find myself counting down the minutes to when Steve gets home. I find myself hoping that it's Wine Wednesday.

Most days flow relatively easily and happily. But those days I mentioned above? I honestly start to wonder if I'm really cut out for this mothering stuff. I start to doubt myself and my ability to keep it together.

As if by magic, a Really Bad Day is most often followed by a Really Good Day. A day so good, Parent Amnesia starts to seep in and I question whether the day before was really as bad as I thought it was.

I'm very thankful for Parent Amnesia. Because of it, I had a second child and continue to take my children to places where meltdowns are likely to happen (i.e. anywhere). It's the reason I can continue on as a mother even if it means sometimes I have a baby in one hand and a wine glass in the other.

Salute!

History in my Backyard

On Mother's Day, I went out behind my house and the quarry to re-examine a cellar hole that remains on what used to be the old military road that ran between Boston and Albany.

Because, when moms do something nice for themselves on that day, they go out in the woods to look at cellar holes, right? I thought so.

Joking aside, this really was something I wanted to take some time to do, and that day was perfect. It meant extending my quarry walk with the dogs, and trying to find this cellar hole that I had only been to twice before.

Each time I go to look for it, I develop an illogical fear that I won't be able to find it. Silly, really. As soon as I find what clearly still looks like a road, going through the middle of the woods, I know I've found the military road, and that the cellar hole is right along it.

In no time at all, I found it. It is a huge mound of rocks with a trench around the sides of it. The most interesting thing about it is that it has a place in the rocks that is shaped like a square. My father told me it was an oven, which probably would make the most sense.

It fascinates me that people lived here. As far as I can gather, from Hiram Barrus' History of the Town of Goshen, it is the cellar hole of a house that was built circa 1768. A man named John Smith lived there with his two sons and eight daughters. It mentions nothing about a wife. A particular passage in Barrus' History caught my eye:

"Five of the sisters...ranging in age from 60 to 73 years, meeting for the first time for a long period, attended church in this town, and occupied the same pew during a Sabbath in the summer of 1844. It was an interesting sight, and rendered still more impressive from the fact that four were widows and the fifth was unmarried" (Barrus, 170).

As I walked around the edge of the cellar hole, I tried to imagine life then. It was hard to do. I'm sure they never pictured someone from the 21st century walking around the remains of their house, more than 200 years after they had lived there.

What will the world look like 200 years from now?

With cellar holes practically in our back yard, letters and deeds in our attic from the 1700s, and an unfinished tombstone from the 1800s in our barn, I can't help but be fascinated by the history around me.



Reference:

Barrus, H. (1881) History of the Town of Goshen, Hampshire County, Massachusetts, from its First Settlement in 1761 to 1881 with Family Sketches. Publisher: Author.

Keep it Simple

My kids constantly remind me to Keep it Simple.

We went to the park last week- the one we have a season pass for, the one I refer to as my lifesaver because it has numerous playgrounds, a splash park, a train, a zoo, etc. Every time we go we do something different.

That day I decided to let the kids lead me to where they wanted to go. They walked over to the pond which we had not yet checked out this spring. We were looking at the small fish and the water bugs. Rosie then picked up a stone and threw it in. It made a wonderful splash.

And, believe it or not, both she and Buddy continued to toss stones into the pond... for an hour!

If someone had told me we'd be spending an hour tossing stones in a pond I would have laughed at them. My kids don't do anything for an hour except sleep, I would say to that person.

I sat on the (fenced) dock alongside them and delighted in their squeals and giggles. Another little boy dragged his mom over, and soon enough all three kids were tossing in stones. The mom and I joked that one main component of their game was that they only felt they could bring over one stone at a time from the pile, and that we were okay with it because they were getting plenty of exercise running back and forth!

One of my favorite luxuries of being a stay at home mom is time. Our schedule only has a few "have-to's" in it- breakfast, lunch and nap time. Other than that? We have the time and flexibility to devote an entire hour to tossing stones. I won't ever regret this time that I spend with them. I can already seeing it slipping away, day by day.

I Believe

My mom was in my dream last night.

In the dream, one of my family members was in the hospital. (An outdoor hospital, apparently. Aren't dreams strange?)

As I came near the hospital bed, I saw my mom standing at the foot of it. She looked beautiful and young. Her hair was long and straight, parted in the middle. She was wearing her usual button down shirt and jeans.

When she turned to look at me, her eyes were huge, like they were dilated. I felt my mom's soft, knowing gaze upon me and in that moment she conveyed to me without words: "I am here. I am still watching out for you, and everyone in the family."

She turned and left, dissolving in front of my eyes. I turned excitedly to the family member who had been admitted to the hospital and said: "My mom was here, right here at your bed, she's watching over you!" Family member replied: "I know! Isn't it wonderful!", and that person was glowing like I've never seen before.

I am getting goose bumps as I write this. I woke up this morning remembering this dream vividly.

I believe that my mom purposefully came to me in my dream last night. I believe she is with God, in Heaven, and that those who leave before us are never truly gone.

My Faith is strong today. I feel my mom's spirit right now like I haven't felt it in months. Every day I try to live a life that would make her proud, and today I will be thinking about her even more than usual.

Infertility

There was a time when I didn't think I was going to be able to have any babies of my own.

Steve and I had been trying for over a year. My cycles were irregular, which meant I never could tell if I was just late as usual, or if maybe we had finally gotten lucky. A lot of negative pregnancy tests were taken and a lot of tears were shed.

Why was it that we, a stable, loving couple, couldn't conceive, but people who didn't even want kids were conceiving every day?

I specifically remember a beach vacation we took in August 2009 at Ocean City, Maryland. It was a perfect Steve & Kris kind of vacation- drinking, eating and a lot of lazy-bums-on-the-beach relaxation for hours on end. During one of those hours on the beach, I started talking to God. I told Him how much I enjoyed this vacation, but how I definitely felt like something was missing. I confessed that the vacation almost felt empty- yes, we were having a blast, but we had been having fun as a couple for seven years. It felt like we were waiting for something. It seemed like there had to be more to life than just the two of us having fun. To us, building a life together meant having children. We were ready.

A few months later, both Steve and I had doctor appointments to make sure everything was in working order. The doctor I saw made a joke that usually right after someone comes in to get checked out, they get pregnant. I was not too amused by such a comment.

But, he was right. On December 7th, 2009, I saw a positive pregnancy test for the first time. And another, and another because I kept taking them just to make sure. My reality shifted and I became weak at the thought of a tiny person growing inside of me.  It was at that moment my pre-mom world dissolved and I became forever conscious that I was responsible for this little life that we had created.

Infertility is not talked about all that often. Think of all the couples you know who have children- how many of them have discussed how long it took to happen? Probably not many.

What I want to say to all women who are trying to get pregnant but so far haven't had luck: It's not because you took birth control for too long (I really thought this at one point about myself). It's not because you're not a worthy enough person to become a parent. You are. I hope and pray that someday you can share the joy I first experienced on that December morning. It took 15 months for us. It does not come easily to everyone, and it does not seem fair. I understand your struggle and I wish it were talked about more so you didn't feel alone.

I Got a Job!

I definitely wasn't looking for a job.

But when a boy scout about 7 years old delivers the annual town report to your door on a sunny Saturday in May, you can't help but think: "Oh my goodness. That's Buddy in 6 years!"

And when you sit down at lunch and start leafing through the town report, and a fluorescent green sheet with the bold title "Your Town needs your Help!" falls out, you can't help but look at it.

And you can't help but notice the top item: Council on Aging Clerk. Among the duties listed is preparing the final copy of the newsletter, and it's about 6 hours a month.

I knew immediately I was going to apply. I had worked at a newspaper for five years, and before that was Office Manager at the Women's Center at my college. This part-time gig was right up my alley.

I had to write my resume for the first time in eight years. I sent it in along with an application, had the interview last week and got the call Monday night.

I am ecstatic!

I've been told that 90% of this job can be done from my home. Perfect. I am excited at the thought of getting back into the working world, in a very small, hopefully manageable way. Last year, 2012, was the first year since I was 15 that I did not work. Even after I left the Gazette in August 2010, I worked there on and off through November 2011.

Buddy is 16 months old (the age Rosie was when he was born- unbelievable!), and Rosie is almost 3. They're more toddlers than they are babies and while they exhaust me most every day, I feel like I am ready to take this on.

I feel like this was meant to happen. I feel like you never know that God has in store for you, and you better believe He has a plan.

And when a Boy Scout delivers the town report, which has the job listing that you know you're going to apply for, you don't look back.

You just do it and see what unfolds.

That Perfect Moment

One night after dinner, we put the kids in their swimsuits and headed out to the kiddie pool in the side yard. It was its first appearance this year.

The kids were overjoyed. They played nicely and there was no fighting. Steve, Lauren (my sister) and I each sat in chairs around the pool, dipping our feet in. I had a glass of Steve's peach chardonnay in my hand, and I was relaxed and happy.

It was a Perfect Moment.

The ironic thing is I had been looking for that Perfect Moment all day. The four of us went to Look Park, specifically to try out the Splash Park for the first time this summer. It didn't go over as well as we had hoped. Rosie didn't really want to get wet and Buddy was still making his mind up about it. It was okay; we knew that it didn't mean other times would be a bust, it just meant this time wasn't all that we thought it would be. We had a picnic lunch at the park, and that went pretty well. I thought it would be an excellent day to get ice cream on the way home, so we stopped at our favorite stand.

I guess, in hindsight, I should have known it was too much- Rosie melted down into a full-out tantrum and it lasted the eight minutes it took to drive home.

I found myself being a little disappointed that the day wasn't the really fun one I had imagined in my head. When Steve mentioned getting the pool out, I was sure that wasn't going to go well, either.

Imagine my surprise when that singular activity brought out the Perfect Moment. The one activity that didn't need much work on my part, the one activity that was spontaneous instead of planned. It reminded me that the Perfect Moments rarely come when carefully planned- they come when you least expect it, while you're sitting out by the pool, tasting the first sip of summer.

-60 lbs

Yesterday, the number on the scale reflected that I have lost 60 lbs.

Holy moly, guacamole.

29% of my body weight.

I am not depriving myself, and I think that is key. I am still eating those two squares of dark chocolate every night, enjoying Wine Wednesdays and a pee wee ice cream cone on occasion. It was just last week that I was pleasantly surprised to learn one s'more was about 190 calories, so I splurged on one a couple days in a row (there's the change- before I would have eaten 2-3 in one night).

Another key to my success has been eating many, many more fruits and veggies. I have fruit every day as my mid-morning snack (peaches are my current favorite). I've never been a salad-as-a-meal kind of person, so I usually have a sandwich for lunch- tuna, ham & cheese or turkey. Onto that plate I pile steamed veggies, and maybe a slice of watermelon on the side. My current favorite afternoon snack is Chobani Bite greek yogurt... yum! They make a few flavors but my favorite is the coffee one with dark chocolate chips. It's 100 calories and tides me over until dinner.

Dinner always has a veggie on the side, if not part of the main course itself. When I grew up, I didn't think I liked vegetables. Turns out, I just didn't like boiled vegetables, which is pretty much the only kind my Mom made. Roasting veggies is the way to go. It has changed my life. It sounds fancier than it is. Pretty much you just take any veggie, put it into a ziplock bag, add olive oil, salt, pepper and any other seasonings you would like (we use garlic powder a lot). Spray a cookie sheet with cooking spray, spread the veggies out on the sheet and roast them about 15 minutes at 425 degrees. It really is as simple as that, and it makes every vegetable taste outstanding.

It's hard for me to believe how small changes have made this big of an impact. I used to diet in the worst way ever- eating salads that didn't fill me at all, cutting off sweets entirely. Turns out I needed to eat more- more veggies, more fruit. They're filling and they keep my body regulated.

I am very happy to have come this far. This experience has made me believe that I can, in fact, do just about anything I set my mind to.