Thank Heaven for Little Girls

Having a daughter inevitably brings memories of your own little-girlhood to the forefront. It's one of my favorite things about spending time with Gwendy- watching her experience things for the first time and remembering a time when the world was new and wonderfully confusing and crammed full of hidden delights and dilemmas.

Today I painted her little finger nails an iridescent blue (a shade she picked herself at the drugstore). When I was done carefully dabbing color on her minuscule nails and blowing on each one in turn, I watched her gesticulate and wave away invisible fog, showing off her hands to herself like a newly-engaged debutante with a 3 carat rock. I was struck hard by the memory of myself as a child, delighting so thoroughly in my own red fingernails. I kept noticing them-how adult and legitimate they seemed- and went about finding new things to do with them so I could admire how they looked in different poses. Here are red nails holding a dinner fork! Here are red nails flouncing a hanky! How wonderful to feel such delight in something so very simple...

And so tonight, at my girl's insistence, I painted my own nails for the first time in forever in that same blazing blue. And God, but I couldn't help but notice my hands all night- pouring in bubble bath, toweling off a squirmy toddler, tucking a blanket all the way up to her perfect little chin. And I took delight in this simple thing- having my girl and being a girl again with her.

Resolved:

Instead of nebulous and unattainable goals for this year (Be kinder to myself!- what the f does that mean?), here are 10 completely do-able resolutions for the year to come:

1. Shred documents that have personal info on them as I come across them, rather than just putting them in the ever-growing Bag Of Papers Intended for Future Shredding, or BOPIFFS, for short.

2. Spend more time cuddling my dogs. It's not their fault I'm all "touched out" by the end of a day of kid wrangling. Of course I'd be more kindly inclined to them if Emmy could go more than three days without managing to remove a diaper from the trash and shred it to bits all over the rug...

3. Go to the dentist with consistency. Also, floss more. And also also, buy more floss instead of just keeping empty floss thing in medicine cabinet.

4. Throughly rinse out my recyclables rather than pass them under the faucet once regardless of amount of sticky gunge still stuck to insides.

5. Shave my legs with more frequency and more attention to detail, regardless of season.

6. Piggy-backing on #5, look at legs twice a week so as to avoid that queer feeling when you first put on shorts in the summer and it's like someone surgically grafted someone else's pale, chubby legs onto your torso whilst you were asleep.

7. Remember to bring non-disposable shopping bags to grocery store. I have enough disposable trash bags in my basement to melt them into a mold and make a usable kayak. I don't want to toss them, and yet have no use for them, so there you go.

8. Eat less sugar (currently I am on the Hummingbird Diet).

9. Go out for coffee/wine/whatever with friends without kids in tow at least once a month.

10. Never utter the phrase "I'm so tired!" Because really? Everyone is tired.

If I can hit 50% of these, I'll be in pretty good shape on my way to world dominance, I think. So, c'mon, 2012! Let's go!

A Perfect Storm

I was all set to finally post a new blog all about my lovely charming kids with little sentimental bits about the things I hope to remember about them at this age blahdy blah and then this afternoon happened.

To preface, Gwen has been learning to use the potty, and in the grand toddler tradition has this irrational fear of pooping any place but her diaper. So I bought her a toy and hid it in the closet and told her she could have it once she pooped on the potty and blah blah, a week of moderate pee success but no poop and then...

Ok, please hit play on the song below while you read the rest. It really makes the story feel like it did in my head...

I am sitting on the couch in the living room with Wes in my lap when all of a sudden, Gwen, who'd been playing quietly a moment before starts going "AHH!! -grunt- AhhhHHH!!-grunt-AhhhHHHH!!" which I take to mean she is in the process of pooping her pants. So I put Wes down on the couch and run to scoop her up, trot to the potty, and pull down her pants and underwear all in one graceless movement as she starts a'poopin.

As the #2 lands both in the potty and in said underwear, I notice Wesley has chosen this moment to learn how to roll onto his side and is nearing the edge of the couch. So I leave a Gwen who is now alternately laughing and screaming (knowing she's gonna get her "poop toy" but also freaking about the whole poop-process) to reset Wesley on the couch.

I then grab Gwen who is finished and is trying to sit on the rug with her dirty butt and stuff her under my arm to take her with me to her bedroom to get wipes and new pants/underwear. I find said garments and then carry her back to the living room where what to my wondering eyes should appear but...

EMMY EATING THE POOP OUT OF THE POTTY!!!!! Oh. My. God.

I chase Emmy off (I think my exact words were

"OHMYGODNOOOOYOUARESOGROSSGETAWAAAYY!!!") and use the wipes to return the remaining poop to the potty. Wesley is now working on a front-to-feet roll forward so I retreive him and plop him in the bouncy. I race the potty back to the bathroom to dispose of its contents, et al.

Upon returning to the living room Gwen is still standing there with her pants around ankles so I then clean her up and get her dressed.

I proceed to catch Emmy and clean her mouth out with Crest Total Care Mouthwash, because WHAT THE HELL ELSE TO YOU USE TO CLEAN OUT THE MOUTH OF A PUG WHO JUST ATE FECES AND FREQUENTLY ENJOYS KISSING YOUR TODDLER ON THE MOUTH??!!??

And that was my life from approximately 2:18-2:24. Jealous? Yeah, you know you are. Welcome back, blog.

Our Ship Comes In

And aboard it was a wee swarthy pirate named Wesley! Here's some pics of his birth and....aftermath? afterglow? I dunno.

We were admitted around 1pm on 7/9. I'd been having contractions 5 minutes apart since about 4am that weren't getting stronger so we decided to head in and get checked out.

Turns out I was in early labor, and the frequency of the contractions (which were 2 minutes apart by the time I was admitted) was due to dehydration. (S'riously, I don't know how I could have drank anymore. I was downing gallons of water each day and peeing like every 4 minutes) Dehydration made getting a viable IV in very...um....interesting. 8 sticks and a resident (2 very skilled nurses having been unable to get a vein) later, I had my saline drip. All my boo-boos:

After a few hours and slow dilating (only between 3 and 4cms by now), my OB decided to break my water. That made things much more....interesting, pain-wise:

There's a bit of a gap in photos here, as I had grown black bat wings and was ready to disembowel anyone bold enough to snap one. Here's where Mom and Gavin were truly awesome, being supportive and helpful and just getting me through it by any means necessary (including some ill-conceived comedy routines).

I opted for the epidural after about 5 hours of !crazy! pain only got me to 5 lousy centimeters dilation. Once the epi was done I was so giddy I could dance (ya know, but for the fact that my lower body was asleep). My contractions still hurt but were totally bearable and I felt so much more relaxed....Only 2 hours later I was at 10 cms and ready to rumble. My AMAZING OB suggested we try pushing, and about 15 minutes later...

Mom telling it on the mountain:

That Ashley can take a picture:

Aunt Joy the next day:

Our little man-child:

It was a truly wonderful, beautiful birth and I was so happy and honored to share it with Gavin, Mom, and Ashley. Thank you guys so much for your love and for being part of an unforgettable night. And Wesley, I love you so so so much and am so happy to have you here with us on dry land.

Americana

Well, still pregnant with our boy Wes. But my wise husband suggested that instead of sitting around housebound staring at my belly we throw a BBQ for some of our awesome friends. It was quite simply a perfect 4th. You go, America!

The man in the above pic is a vegetarian, except on the off times when his girlfriend gets grass-fed family raised beef from her family's farm. And then all bets are off....

And to cap it all off, some benevolent soul lit fireworks practically in our backyard!

Stop and Smell the Roses

My Joyful Mess

For some reason on this cloudy morning I am struck by the happiness of my life. It is not anything resembling the life I would have constructed for myself 5 years ago if, like a director of a play, I could have manipulated the setting and costumes and characters, but I must say it is far richer and more lovely than anything done "on purpose"; only happy accidents end up this perfect.

I have a husband who understands me. Can I just stop at that for a moment- the crazy magic of one person in all the people really understanding you, and happening to have that person be your spouse? I have a daughter who is the physical manifestation of sunlight. I am surrounded by vibrant artistic friends who challenge and yet love me warts and all. And I have a family with whom I am cozy enough with to be myself- Bitchymyself, Vulnerablemyself, Reallymyself. Oh, and I have a son safe in my belly reminding me every 15 minutes or so with his barrel rolls and kicks that life itself is a blue-eyed miracle that we should just stand back and admire like slack-jawed tourists at the Grand Canyon.

My days are spent thinking about politics and art and the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and lofty future goals and how best to get oatmeal out of the carpet (let the dogs do it). I plan and soothe and clean and do funny dances and keep our little ship sailing in the right direction, and am so, so thankful for every minute of it. I fall into my bed each night thoroughly, happily exhausted.

So to sum up, life is good. Really, really good. Thank you God.

Photographic Proof:

The thing about New York Winter- you get New York Spring:

Found this art-installation in my window:

The artist was on hand to explain her work:

It is on-going:

By now, he is a crib-building expert:

Almost done w/ Kiddo's room:

Prospect Park en route to the zoo:

Sheeps!

Belly!