A Little Too Addicted

 Hi. My name is Kristen and this winter I found myself a little too addicted to technology.

We all know what kind of winter it's been. At this point, we've been stuck inside for almost five months straight, and it ain't pretty. There's been much more TV watching then I care to admit to, and I found myself refreshing Facebook and my email "just one more time" to see if anything new popped up.

It's gotten old, and I realized that I don't want my kids to see me constantly in front of a screen. If I don't want them them to be that way, I have to model it myself.

To combat this technology addiction, I made rules for myself. I enjoy my coffee and bagel while browsing the net, but by the time the kids have finished their breakfast, I've put my lap top away and don't look at it again until I'm bopping around preparing lunch around 12pm. That's usually only for five minutes or so, then I put it away until the kids' nap time at 2pm, at which point I do look at it on and off throughout the afternoon/evening (it is where I get my recipes from, where I blog from, where I do my job from, etc).

Like diet and exercise, once I started tracking and monitoring my laptop usage, my lifestyle improved. Moderation is key.

I've employed similar techniques with my phone. While texting with buddies gets me through my days more often than not, I've tried not to jump to the phone every time I hear that tell-tale "ding". What's the urgency? I'm doing this for myself but I'm also doing it for my kids. I don't want them to see my face glued to screens all the time. I want them to see me engaged with them, engaged in life. I want them to see me living in the here and now, not in screen time.

I'm not perfect with these new guidelines. As I write this, for example, it's a snowy 12 degree day in the middle of March. We're all just done. More TV was watched than on a typical day, and I was more lax on my lap top and phone "rules". We all have these days.

The more I step away from screens, the more I'm present with the people around me. I'm not ashamed of the boundaries I've had to create for myself because we live in a time of excess. We want more, and we want it now. I can't tell my kids that's unacceptable unless I model it myself.

I Confess

I confess

...that I have definitely helped Cadbury with their profit margins this month! As soon as Cadbury Eggs hit the store, I was all over it. Instead of my nightly piece of dark chocolate, I've been having one of these instead. At a reasonable 150 calories, it satisfies my sweet tooth.

...that, at the age of almost-31, I prefer white, cotton crew socks over any other kind of sock. I have found fun, colorful socks to be too thin and they don't seem to breathe well. White cotton, it is!

...that I deemed our recent stay at a hotel to be a vacation, which therefore warranted me buying a "scandal mag" a.k.a. In Touch. These kind of magazines have been my guilty pleasure for years!

...that I tell Buddy that the fish and birds at the pet store are sleeping, so we can't go see them. I may or may not use this sleeping excuse many times for various things over the week.

...that I'm pretty excited for the next Scholastic Book Club order to come in. "There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly"? Classic.

A Hop, Skip and a Jump

I noticed him almost as soon as I walked into the classroom- good-looking, tall, dark-haired, making the people around him laugh. On a small campus, it was easy to spot new faces. I'm not going to tell you that it was love at first sight, but it was most definitely attraction at first sight.

It was the first day of class and our Professor asked us to arrange our desks in a circle. One by one, we were to tell everyone who we were, where we were from and what our major was. It was during this time that the new guy said a phrase that would change both of our lives forever:

"I'm from Worthington, which is just a hop, skip and a jump away from Goshen."

My eyes widened and a smile broke out across my face. Not only was this guy attractive,  his hometown was very close to mine! Very few people from our area went to MCLA and this bonded us immediately.

We started conveniently running into each other all over campus. At one point in our conversations, I had to break the bad news to him that I had a boyfriend. "But we're on the rocks!" I assured him hurriedly. The truth is, I was a year into my first relationship ever, with a guy I had barely anything in common with. I loved being in a relationship, but I didn't love him.

The night after I broke the news to Steve, I ran around the floor of my dorm in a tizzy. "What should I do?", I asked my friends. I remember one of them, Matt, saying: "I think you've already made up your mind."

I had. The next day was the last day I would see Steve before Spring Break. I ran up to him after class and said: "Hey, do you want to hang out over spring break?" He looked surprised. "As friends or as a date?", he asked. "As a date! I'm breaking up with my boyfriend tonight!". This led into a four hour conversation.

We couldn't stop talking.

12 years later, we still can't stop talking. It's one of the hallmarks of our relationship.

I knew on that March day that I made the right choice. Love comes when you least expect it (like in Forms of Speech class).

A Special Day

Yesterday was the first day of spring, but more importantly, it marked a special day-
Grandma Pease's birthday.

Grandma, who I spent an hour on the phone with last week and could have talked with even longer. Grandma, who is always ready with a smile and a kind word.
Grandma, who has more energy than people half her age.
Grandma, who showed us all what a beautiful, 65 year marriage looked like with Gramp.

We're still thinking about him. We're missing him. And it doesn't escape our attention how much you must miss him, Gram, if this is the ache all of us are experiencing nine months later.

You are a strong woman, and you are an inspiration. Your friendly tone and gentle mannerisms puts everyone at ease around you. I like to remember how much my mother, who usually liked to keep to herself, delighted in you.

The truth is, you touch everyone you meet. You make every single one of our lives better, just by being you.

Thank you, Gram, for the cheerfulness and helpfulness you infuse in our daily lives. Thank you for the funny one-liners and quips that always gives us a good laugh. Thank you for the delicious treats that always seem especially good because you made them. Thank you for everything that you do.

We can only hope to have half your energy and good attitude when we reach your age.

We love you so very much!

Reason #202 Why I Love Age Three

Oh, how I find irony in writing this post about loving age three on the same night that my little girl had meltdowns of epic proportions through most of the evening.

But, on I go.

In general, I have found age three much less trying than age two. The Terrible Twos began early (around 18 months) and ended a few months before her third birthday. While some people warned me: "Watch out, Three is much worse", I have to say that has happily not been the case here.

Reason #202 why I love age three are conversations like the ones below:

Rosie on the way home from picking up pizza with me: "I've decided I do want to be a mama! But, just one kid. No babies."

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Yesterday she was relating to me all the tricks the leprechaun had played in her classroom (he turned the milk green, and the water in the potty green).

R: "Did the leprechaun come here? Did he play any tricks?"

I quickly hold up a green bowl in arm's reach at the table. "This! He turned this green!" I say.

Rosie frowns. "Mama, that bowl is painted green."

Me: "I know! The leprechaun did it!"

R: "No, mom. Leprechauns have magic, not paint!"

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Seriously, these conversations make my day. She is very sure about so many things- it cracks me up! Currently loving age three (despite tonight's drama saga) and all the honesty (although sometimes cringe-worthy) and curiosity that comes with it. While she may not "need" me as much as she did as when she was a baby, I love that I can have such fun conversations with my little lady.

It's magical.

Monday Musings

I had four hours in the car by myself yesterday (baby shower for a dear friend in eastern MA) and found myself thinking about a few things.

1. I am thankful to have a husband who takes the kids for the day, no questions asked, no complaints. I never have a doubt in his ability to handle it. He doesn't need direction. He's immersed in our day to day life so he knows the drill as well as I do. I can't say this about all fathers.

2. I still smirk when I see that a state cop has pulled over an out-of-stater. I know, I shouldn't. Someday that could be me.

3. Certain towns and cities still make me think of particular people even though I haven't seen them in years or he or she hasn't lived there in a long time. "Oh, that's where 'Lisa' from college came from", or "I remember getting off this exit to go visit 'the Smiths'". I wonder how long these associations will last. Some of them are over 10 years old!

4. Do the people who design baby clothes actually have children? Because buttons up and down the legs of pajamas do no favors for sleep-deprived parents. Zippers, people. Zippers!

5. Calling Steve to tell him I was on my way home resulted in being put on speaker phone. I heard Rosie say: "I want to give mama a kiss!", and a pucker noise, then I heard Buddy do the same, much louder. Motherhood is so sweet.

This Messy Fridge

I am in love with our messy fridge.

It symbolizes our family and has a little bit of everything. Photos, favorite quotes, the week's menu, and best of all: the kids' artwork.

I have always proudly displayed their creations on this fridge. Now, without prompting, they excitedly run over to hang it up themselves with whatever magnets are available. (Except once last week when Buddy thought the (not being used at the time) wood stove needed decoration- "No, Buddy, no!", we cried. Gotta keep an eye on that boy!).

I enjoy this mishmash of papers. It's the kids' space to do with what they want. I'd say the one problem with it is that the fridge is right next to the front door. And when there is someone at the front door that our golden retriever gets especially excited for (meaning anyone), the papers and magnets are no match for the thumping of her large tail. And I sigh, and I pick up the papers and magnets. Guess I could try to invest in some stronger magnets, huh?

This messy fridge. It'll be fun to see how it will change from year to year and how the kids' abilities will sharpen.

Just Give it Away

It makes me happy to think that an infant born just last week will soon be using what used to be Buddy's crib, and that a baby at Rosie's school will now get to use our Boppy pillow to be propped up on so she can get some tummy time.

Steve and I are of the philosophy of: if we don't need something any longer, let's just give it away. It's not because we couldn't use a few extra bucks. It's because so very, very much has been given to us over the years- for free- and we feel compelled to return this favor to the cosmos.

It's a kind of karma that's boded well for us.

Almost every piece of furniture in our house is a hand-me-down from one of our families. I have not had to buy a single stitch of clothing for Buddy since he's been born because people have generously passed their boys' clothes onto us. Same goes for about half of Rosie's wardrobe. Books, puzzles, toys also get passed to us, and when we're done with them?

We just give them away.

We give them away to friends, to family, and we give them away in giant free piles we have at the end of our driveway in the summer. We just have a hard time justifying asking for money for things we didn't buy in the first place. This is not to put down anyone that does try to sell their extra things. I get it.

We have offloaded so many unused or outgrown items since we started our free piles last year. I already have a pile in the attic, waiting to be set out come late spring. Part of the fun is watching people come by, and seeing what they deem to be useful or a treasure. I would so much rather someone use these items than have them gather dust in our barn!

It's a freeing experience, passing on things we no longer need. It makes us really take a look at what we have, and if we really are going to use all those vases we've collected over the years.

When the answer is no, we just give it away.

We Love Rock 'n' Roll

My earliest memories of music are not of listening to Sesame Street's Greatest Hits or "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" over and over.

My earliest memories of music are of listening to a Genesis cassette tape in my mom's car- "That's All", listening to all the oldies from the 50's and 60's with my dad, and my grandmother turning up my uncle's Creedence Clearwater Revival record and us dancing around to "Bad Moon Rising".

I grew up on adult music, not kid music, and enjoyed every minute.

Because of it, I have a fondness for all kinds of music. Frank Sinatra to Patsy Cline to Buddy Holly to The Isley Brothers to the Steve Miller Band... you get the picture.

I've decided to follow the same route with my children. We listen to a little of everything- oldies, classic rock, country, pop, etc. Rosie loves the song with her name in it- "Smile a Little Smile for Me, Rosemarie" and Buddy seems to dig "Little White Church". I laugh when I see them dancing to Pharrell's "Happy" (how can you not dance to that?).

One of the mom bloggers I follow talks about having her kids' CDs on repeat and how she even found herself "rocking out" to "Wheels on the Bus" when she was alone in the car. I had to laugh because it is a funny image, but because that would never be me in a million years. Considering we live 30 minutes from just about anything, we're in the car a lot. The last thing I'm going to do is sit through 60+ minutes a day of kids' songs while I'm behind the wheel. No, thank you.

My kids are everything to me, but the whole world does not need to revolve around them. This includes the music we listen to in the car.

My children are not deprived entirely from kid music. I admit to having a kid music CD or two (not bought by me) that get thrown in the CD player in case of utter emergency (extremely long car trips, for example). It does make them happy- maybe because it's a "treat"? We also put on soundtracks in the house- "Mary Poppins", "Wizard of Oz" (the key there is that it has to be something I can stand to listen to). The kids and I sing on and off throughout the day- The ABC song and the like.

Music, all music, is a part of our every day life. I can't imagine not having it, and feel lucky to have it in so many different forms right at our fingertips. If Rosie's first music memory is of she and I singing "Call Me Maybe", I'll be more than alright with that. I'll be thrilled.

This Week in History

This week in history, a great man was born.

My Pop Pop.

My grandma took care of me every week day until I went to Kindergarten. Weekends, however, were grandma and pop pop time. Every weekend in the summer they camped at the local state forest, and my sister and I were invited to spend the night.

My very best memories involve our times at D.A.R. We hiked, biked, canoed, played Frisbee, played badminton, took night walks. We did the activities at the Nature Center, discovered mica, saw blue herons, ducks and bears, and ate delicious camp food. My grandparents had done all of these things with their four children, and then they did them with us.

They were more like a second pair of parents than they were grandparents. They were 43 when I was born, and only in their 50's when we did the above activities. They were very unlike everyone else's grandparents, and in all the best ways.

My grandma became ill and spent a few years in hospitals. Pop pop visited her faithfully. It was a very tough time on our family, but their strong love was evident.

My junior year of college I was required to interview an older person and write a paper, tying in the things we had learned in class. I learned so much about him when I did that interview. From that point on, I viewed him differently. I admired him even more for all that he had done for his family over the years.

My grandma passed, and then his daughter (my mom) passed. More rough patches for the family, but he was able to find love again after some time in a friendly, beautiful woman named Marge. Our family was quick to recognize the jewel that she was, and I still thank God for bringing her into our lives.

When I became a stay at home mom, and started visiting Pop Pop and Marge with Rosie, our relationship grew even stronger. After years of him working, then of me going to college and then working, we were finally able to see each other on a pretty regular basis. While I loved being with my Rosie, I missed being around other adults, and seeing them helped me with that greatly.

I love watching my kids with Pop Pop. He is a kid at heart and will do just about anything to get a laugh out of them. They love both him and Marge to pieces!

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the many times that Pop Pop has helped me out. Last Spring I had to call him because my muffler all but fell off my car. He came to my rescue in no time.

This week in history, a great man was born. I am so proud to call him my Pop Pop.

Mom's Last Hug

You know when you have a memory that causes such sharp pain, that you hide it away, and only take it out when you're feeling especially brave?

For me, one of those memories is the last day I saw my mom.

It was March 5th, 2006. Six months prior, she had been diagnosed with Cirrhosis. She was very close to death; her liver had all but stopped functioning. She quit alcohol cold turkey. I didn't think she'd be able to do it, but she did.

None of us saw her as in the last throngs of life. We were not painted that picture; it seemed that if she quit drinking, and took pills to keep the water retention down, that she would get better. Truth be told, I was only 22 at the time and didn't ask enough questions.

A month before she passed, I remember her grasping my hand at the kitchen table and saying: "It sucks. I finally have energy to do things, and I won't be able to do them. Little things, like wash the curtains." I was confused as to why she didn't think she'd be able to do those things. And then she started to cry, and I got up to comfort her. I had never seen my mom so vulnerable. She had always been so stoic.

When I visited her March 5th, she was confused. This is the part I hate to remember because I've learned so much since then, and now I would know on insisting she go to the emergency room. Instead, what I got from her was a promise to call the doctor in the morning. I can't begin to express how much I've dwelled on this and regretted my actions in the past 8 years. I have learned to forgive myself: I didn't know. I was young.

When I said goodbye to her that day, she was sitting in her usual spot at the kitchen table. When we hugged, she hugged extra tight and extra long, something she never did. I know, now, that deep down, she knew she was near the end. She was giving me her last goodbye.

When my 16 year old sister's phone call woke me up the next day, I felt my heart drop out of my chest. In an instant, my reality shifted into something much darker. I never felt as lost as I did that day.

It was a dark day and a dark year. I got married just a few months later, knowing my mom would not have wanted me to change things. I was in a haze.

One thing that gave me great comfort was the quote: "You don't get over someone passing away. You get through it." I will never get over my mom's passing. It is part of my story, one of the hardest moments of my life. But I did get through it, and part of that, for me, was putting aside memories like the one I've written above, to only take out when I want to remember, when I need to remember.

Today, on the anniversary of the day I last hugged her, I needed to remember. I love you, mom.

Truths

1. When you lose weight, you become a smaller person. When you become a smaller person, you buy smaller clothes, and those clothes fold up nicely into small shapes when you pack to go somewhere.

2. When you become a mom, you realize how very little you need to pack for yourself. My one "extra" item? A book!

3. When you're able to fit everything you'll need for a night in Boston into a small backpack, you feel accomplished. You've come a long way, baby, since the days when you thought you needed at least two backpacks of items for one night!

4.  When you pack a backpack and take a double-decker train car into Boston, you feel a little more alive than you did the day before. You marvel again at the beauty of the city, and the busyness of it. You enjoy it for a day, and then are ready to return to the peacefulness and quiet of your town, population 900, knowing that the city is just a car and train ride away for the next time you want to return.