The Good Stuff

Life is a highway

For Christmas, Will received a Cozy Coupe. Ron and I put off assembly because of the cold weather AND because we were warned that it was a little "challenging" to put together. Yes. I'd say two generally civilized adults struggling with/slamming down/cursing at primary-colored pieces of plastic is a "challenging" scenario. After an hour, some WD-40, and 2 mis-installed front wheels, we had this:

 


 
 

I mean, he LOVES it. He is OBSESSED with it. He cries when we take him out of it. "Cah! Cah! Cah!" If he catches a glimpse of it in the yard, he points. "Cah! Cah!" 

He's happy just sitting in it. Taking out the key. Dropping the key on the ground. Watching us pick up the key. Pointing at the car's eyes. We don't even have to push him.

"Fill 'er up with premium, please."



"Mom! We have AAA, right?"



 
 

Will: 1, Pear: 0

Wow, this feeding situation is starting to get much easier. Going, going, going are the days when I have to cut everything into tiny little pieces. This week, I just handed the kid a whole pear. Next week, I'm going to just set him in the kitchen near the pantry, give him a bib, and let him handle the rest.

Bert: Ritz! Come quick! He's eating a whole pear! I'm calling dibs for when he drops it.

 


Will: So... is this how this works? I eat the stem first? No?

 


Ah, like THIS. Much better.

 


I don't care what you say. The stem isn't bad. I'm going to give it another try.

 

[... PAUSE while I cut off the top of the pear to remove Stem Temptation...]

 


Listen, Mom, I think you're starting to slack off. First, you start letting Daddy pinch hit with a bottle for bedtime. And I heard what you said about just giving me the box of cereal while you lay around and read magazines. I think you need to up your game. I prefer my fruit course julienned. I'm just humoring you with the pear since you ran and grabbed the camera and all.

 


Aaaaah Dah. [Translation: All Done. Take that, pear.] 

 
 
 
 
 

It was time.

I never considered not breastfeeding Will. I was always sure I wanted to give that to him, if I could. I knew it wouldn't be easy... or maybe it would be easy... I didn't really know anything about it at all. Ron and I went to classes to learn what we could both do to ensure Will received the best nutrition possible from Day One. I bought books. I talked to other mothers. I had Ron's full support.

I felt guided every step of the way in this process. God blessed me with a smooth delivery, which ended with a strong, slick, and wide-eyed baby boy being placed directly on my chest. I was the very first one to hold him and feel the weight of our greatest gift. And within thirty minutes, he was nursing for the first time. Neither of us was certain of what we were doing. But instincts kicked in and we were on our way.

We passed the three months of my maternity leave cocooned in our warm house, nursing and singing and cuddling. He grew and grew. Will's doctor praised my hard work. Ron thanked me for doing this for our son. I felt very gratified by the entire process, and SO GRATEFUL that it was working! We were doing it! I know it doesn't happen that way for everyone.

I thought about setting milestones. Maybe I'd nurse Will until I went back to work. Maybe 6 months would be sufficient. Maybe I'll wean before we went to Jamaica. But those markers passed almost without notice. I decided I would continue to nurse for a full year, unless Will weaned first.

I secretly hoped Will would do the weaning. I never wanted to be the one that said "that's enough." I didn't want to have to say "it's time."

I honestly loved nursing this child, from the bottom of my heart. I loved knowing that God gave me a body that could fulfill Will's needs. I marveled at the beauty behind God's design for a mother and child. I loved the way our bodies fit in our chair night after night. My lap shrank, his body grew and grew - yet we still fit comfortably in that chair somehow. He'd look up at me with those sleepy eyes and smile at me with that milky mouth, and I'd melt. And thank God that He gave me that moment.

But it was time.

I never wanted to feel uncomfortable nursing Will. I didn't want to worry about what others thought. I knew that our mother-son bond was strong, and  I wanted Ron to have that same strong bond. I felt like that could happen if the feeding responsibilities shifted.

After gradually backing out of nursing week over week, Sunday night was our last night. I cried. Ron cried. Will didn't. In fact, it doesn't seem like Will has noticed at all. 

But that last night in our chair, I thanked Will for letting me do this for him all these months. I prayed that our efforts would make him a strong and healthy boy. I praised God for this boy who lights me up from the inside every single day. And I vowed to rock that baby in our chair for absolutely as long as he'd let me.  

Frogs and snails, and puppy-dogs tails

"... and such are little boys made of."

I grew up with ALL GIRLS. A sister, all girl cousins [until a boy cousin was born when I was in high school], all girl cats, all girl cows, etc. I was positive we were pregnant with a girl... but no. I laughed and admired God's sense of humor. I am pretty much as all girl as they come. I've never slept outside, I love hair and makeup and clothes, and I don't like to get my hands dirty [unless it's in my garden].

What kind of boy will Will grow up to be with a Mother like that? A Mother who, in her efforts to create conversation with her son, asks "What do you want to wear today?" and "Do you like my new haircut?" and "Should I buy this dress?"

This weekend, we watched "Up." I fell in love with Russell, the nerdy-boy-scout-scientist character. I turned to Ron and said, "I hope Will is like that." Curious. Adventurous. Outdoorsy. Scientist-y, and OK with it.

The movie made me think of all the dirt-filled, outside, boy-like adventures I want to have with Will. Such as...

• Make tin can phones
• Dig for worms
• Catch lightning bugs in mason jars
• Build a fort out of sheets and tables and chairs
• Pamper my garden
• Tell ghost stories while holding flashlights under our chins
• Laugh at our matching popsicle smiles
• Tend skinned knees... mine AND his!
• Go on "safari" in my parents' pasture
• Watch kittens/puppies/calves being born
• Run through sprinklers

Moms of boys... what are other "musts" for boys?

It ain't easy eating green

Sorry to take some liberties with your quote, Kermit. I put that apology out there since you're a carnivore,  and you may not appreciate the revolution occurring in the Miller Household.

Over in Falls Church, we are making an effort to eat less meat and more veggies. Partially for health reasons and particularly to be kinder to the environment.

This is not an easy task. My dad owns a steakhouse. I have seen the fear in Ron's eyes as I eat the rib-eye fat he pushed to the side of his plate. I have been known to gnaw a pork chop bone in plain view at a restaurant. I enjoy the meat.

Alas, we push on. I have learned a few things so far:

• Wine is not meat.
• After a glass or two of wine, you don't mind not having meat quite as much. In fact, you may not notice at all.
• Buy a loaf of good bread - like a baguette or ciabatta bread - and some good cheese. This week we're eating a stinky, salty spreadable cheese from Italy [Taleggio].  Brush your bread slices with olive oil and char them on a grill pan inside or on your grill outside. Spread with cheese. Voilà!
• Don't be too worried about carbs. That's purely speculation, and I could point to this hair-brained theory accusingly when my jeans stop fitting. But I think that as long as you focus on minimally processed whole grains and enjoy the carbs in moderation, you're OK.
• Hmm... how to put this delicately... eating more veggies keeps things moving. You've been warned.

Here are a few recipes that we've tried and liked. I'm a big fan of Bon Appétit Magazine and Epicurious.com. Both sources are fairly generous with vegetarian options.

• Falafel with Cilantro Yogurt in Pita Bread. This is my favorite so far. It's pretty messy to make and I hate the lingering smell of fried foods in my house. But otherwise, it's a winner. I have used store bought tzatziki instead of the cilantro yogurt.
• Spaghetti with Pecorino Romano and Black Pepper. I agree with the reviewers who say "good ingredients are key to this recipe." Since the ingredients are so basic, they must be good quality. I threw in a handful of arugula, which added some fiber, color, and dimension to the dish. And crushing the roasted peppercorns with the mortar and pestle was fun, too.
• Roasted Butternut Squash Soup and Curry Condiments. Good ole Barefoot Contessa. She just doesn't miss. I really liked the cashew/coconut condiment mix and Ron really liked the green onion/coconut condiment mix. Ron thought he'd like this soup better as a "cup" versus as a "bowl," FYI.

Here are a few recipes I'm anxious to try:

• Wild Mushroom Pizza with Caramelized Onions, Fontina, and Rosemary. I'm going to try a simplified version of this recipe this weekend, using store bought whole wheat pizza dough.
• Primavera Risotto Nests with Fried Eggs. I saw this recipe in the Bon Appétit Magazine I received this week. I love the "gravy" created by a runny egg yolk, so I bet this one is good.

We're still new at this, so if you have good veggie recipes that are worth sharing, do! 

Shredding, but not shedding

Pre-snow and pre-freezing temperature mornings, I was really good about taking Bert and Will for a walk every day before work. It wasn't a great work out, but it was something. And I enjoyed it. But lately, take the cold weather and add Will's frequent runny nose and throw in the hassle of putting several layers of clothing on a protesting toddler and just for fun, multiply that by snow-covered sidewalks... you get the point. We're not getting out so much right now.

But with a looming getaway to Florida and a girls' trip to Miami on the horizon, I dusted off the old Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred DVD. I bought this when I was on maternity leave, but quickly got bored with working out in the basement while being mocked [maybe not really] by a baby in a swing and the dog.

I recruited Ron! We would get up at 5:00 a.m. and do the video before Will woke up! We did this 4 times before our trip to visit Ron's parents in Florida. We were pitifully sore. Audibly sore. We started back in earnest this week, and are onto Level 2.

I must tell you - watching Ron do the oblique twists and skater leaps in the Level 2 cardio makes getting up at 5:00 a.m. to sweat in our basement worth it. 100%. It's hilarious. Like a bad audition for So You Think You Can Dance. While his arms are supposed to go one way and his legs the other, they both go the same way. When he leaps, he lands with about as much grace as a drunken fall from a bar stool. And to add insult to injury, he can't fully extend his arms since our ceiling down there is so low. If only his shorts were shorter and he was wearing a sweatband... if only he'd let me take his picture or video his workout... that's the only way this could be any funnier.

Couple our new fitness regime with the fact that we're eating a lot more veggies since we're only eating meat for supper every other night... I should be dropping weight like a pageant girl a week away from swimsuit competition.

But I'm gaining weight! What the heck?

Light bulb. I'm in the process of weaning Will. We're down to one nursing session per day. My body is no longer burning ~500 calories per day to produce milk for him.

This is a true injustice. In what sick world does a woman who nurses her child for 13 months have to deal with GAINING weight after weaning? As if breastfeeding were a cake walk with no wear-and-tear on your "parts"? As if I didn't already have mixed emotions about giving up this special time with Will?

Thanks, Mother Nature. You can be a real jerk sometimes.

Also known as The Day the Millers Stopped Using Toilet Paper

Or maybe some of you Moms have a better solution than that? Seems a bit drastic. And gross.

Generally, Will plays in his exersaucer while I shower and get ready for work. This week I tested a new tactic- it's called Close the Bathroom Door Close the Toilet Lid Lock the Bathroom Cabinets Hope for the Best. This failed miserably, since babies have the innate sense to find that one thing in each room that is dangerous and/or un-secure. I'm still such a rookie.

Of course, he crawled directly to the toilet. He tried to flush it. When that didn't work, he got distracted and noticed the full JUMBO roll of toilet paper. That's right, a jumbo roll. We don't play around.

Then this happened:

 


Doesn't this picture just bring back all those insecurities of walking out of the bathroom with TP stuck to your shoe?

 




Here, have some.

 

 


Bert: Should I tell him?

 


Bert: Ritz, you tell him.
RItz: I'm not telling him. He's always chasing me. Let him see how it feels for a change.

 

I have a Mother who...

I have a Mother who ....

• puts clean sheets back on the guest room bed before she goes back to SC, to save me time.
• makes Will laugh and Ron at ease.
• smiles all the time.
• is the only one who knows how to take care of me when I'm sick.
• has watched Days of our Lives every day for my entire life.
• took a one way flight up to DC to ride with me on the drive down to SC, so I didn't have to drive alone.
• teaches Will something new every time she sees him.
• teaches me something new every time I see her.
• I hear in my head when I consider not picking up a piece of trash from the ground.
• simply stood by the hospital bed when I was in the worst and scariest part of labor.
• almost never gets mad. But when she does... watch out.
• will make an entire Pound Cake just to eat some of the cake batter.
• is always on the look out for house stuff for my sister and I to buy.
• I hear in my head telling me how much she paid for my teeth every time I try to open something with them.
• always made sure we had the right clothes for every occasion, and even made sure they were ironed. She still asks me "what will you wear?" when I tell her about an upcoming work meeting, lunch with friend, or night out.
• taught me all the lullabies I sing to Will.
• prays for me every day.
• makes me want to be a better Mama.

 

A loaded question

Do your kids make you happy? I came across this article last week, and it felt timely to me. The article discusses various studies that say kids DO or DO NOT improve happiness. Of course, this depends - someone with the resources [which would include a spouse] and initial desire for children would be more susceptible to happiness. A single mother who has to work multiple jobs to keep meals on the table may have a different answer. Heck, I could give you two different answers within a 30 minute time-span sometimes!

But I want to be honest with myself. And maybe the answer is "not always." And I want to be OK with that.

As the article says, it's tough to compare my pre-kids life with my current life without some sense of longing. Gone are the days when I can email Ron at 5 p.m. to meet me for happy hour. Sleeping until 7 a.m. is a treat now. Dinner parties are filled with discombobulated conversations and protests against bedtime. A second trip to Europe seems like a far away dream, versus a whim and a few mouse clicks away.

I experience a lot of guilt for these feelings. After work when Ron and I squeeze in playtime with Will before starting the bedtime routine, I find myself watching the clock. I'm waiting for 5:30 p.m., when play time can stop and supper can begin. Then I know we're an hour away from a sleeping baby, a glass [or three] of wine, and time for just the two of us.

Ron and I were off work on President's Day. We dropped Will off at daycare and went out for lunch and window shopping. I felt guilty about that.

We had friends over for dinner Saturday night. I was anxious to put Will to bed so that I could enjoy my guests. Once I got him in his room, I realized he was crying because he wanted to keep playing. But I put him to bed anyway... would 30 more minutes have hurt anything? I felt really guilty about that one.

Do all parents feel this way? Counting the minutes until you're just YOU again, versus MamaMamaMama or DaaaDaaahh?

Maybe second guessing becomes second nature when you're a parent. "Shouldn't I want to play with Will every available minute?" "Shouldn't I be happier when, in the short time I get with him on a work day, he is throwing his food on the floor?"

Maybe it's a short term happiness versus long term happiness situation. Was I happy today in the office bathroom when I noticed oatmeal in my hair? NO.

But knowing that the oatmeal I feed this one year old will help him grow into a man who will feed his own family one day [and possibly even his own decrepit parents] does make me happy.

Bottom line - I'm one of the happiest people you could ever meet. I'm crazy about my life and all the people in it. I wouldn't trade Will for all the stars in the sky. Walking into his room in the morning and seeing his bed-head and four-tooth-smile peaking out of the crib is the best part of my day. Hands down.

So maybe my answer to "Do your kids make you happy?" is NOT ALWAYS. And my answer to "Do your kids make you unhappy?" is NO WAY. Can I get away with that?

 

I think so.

...with silver bells and cockle shells and pretty maids all in a row.

That's not quite how my garden is growing. Yet. This is the current state of affairs.

 

 

But I recently took a few steps in the right direction.

Step 1: If you build it, they will come. You're welcome, birds. [I don't know why I associate birds with my garden. But somehow they will help. I just know it.] I can see this feeder from my kitchen sink window. Ron doesn't understand my fascination or squealing when I see a bird having a snack, but I can't help it. Right around Mother's Day last year, there was a Mama Bird with a nest in that same bush. So I could watch her tend her eggs from the kitchen. I wished her Happy Mother's Day. Maybe that was weird. Probably was. Anyway, she picked up and moved before the baby birds were born. My squealing and stalking probably didn't help.



Step 2: Plant flower seeds to be transplanted in the spring. These are Sweet William seeds, which were favors for Will's first birthday party.

 

 

 

Step 3: Start planning summer garden. This year, Santa brought me a garden tiller. Now, we can expand our garden's size with ease. I'm considering starting everything from seed. While it's more up front work, I will have access to a wider variety of plants, versus the limited selection at places like Home Depot. And I'll have control over the entire process, without worrying about what had been sprayed on the seedlings, etc. This will be our third summer garden, and each year it's been better than the year before. I hope to plant enough tomatoes to share and to make homemade marinara and pizza sauces to freeze for winter.

Last year, I got a lot of pleasure from feeding Will foods from our back yard. It doesn't get more locally sourced than that. I hope that this year's garden will keep us out of the produce sections of the grocery store and that when we need to supplement, we'll do so only from our local Farmer's Market. We're doing our part, Mrs. Obama and Food Inc. people.