Spring Break 2012!

On Potty Training

We've been on a bit of an odyssey these past few months, Bella, Jeff and I. We started out in late August, in those dog days of summer, during my vacation week. The journey has been filled with ups and downs, some tears, some screaming, lots of puddles, and loads upon loads of laundry.

We started potty training early, by some standards, because at Bella's school the toddlers are expected to wear cotton pants. She seemed ready though. The pediatrician thought so; my mom thought so; I was convinced. But she was not ready. It took from August to the end of January before I began to see true progress. I have spent weekends of my life using the timer on the microwave to tell me when 30 minutes are up so Bella and I can race to the bathroom. We have pleaded; we have cajoled; we have spent hours chasing a bare-butt two-year-old around the house. It has been exhausting.

I now loathe potty training and I dread potty training my next child. After a hugely successful 4-day weekend with Bella at the end of January and two flights on the way to Florida where Bella held it until she could go in airport bathrooms, Bella transitioned to a new classroom at school and has regressed from using the potty about 90% of the time, to telling us 50% of the time, after the fact, "I go pee".

This means that one of my main forms of exercise (seriously) is all of the walking up and down the stairs to the laundry room to do nightly loads of pee-clothes and separate loads of diapers. It's not that the whale-momma can't use the exercise, but 7 months of potty training is way beyond ridiculous. As with all things in her life so far, Bella will do it when Bella is ready, and not one second earlier. This is the child who yesterday said to me "don't touch my body, Momma", and about virtually every task each day "let me do that!". She knows her mind; and she will do it when she darn well pleases.

So there.

The Art of Racing in the Rain

Today I finished reading "The Art of Racing in the Rain", a book narrated by a dog named Enzo. I would never have picked this book up on my own. I resist reading books about dogs as much as I have resisted loving (or even liking) our dog, Casey. My book group chose the book and since I am ecstatic to finally belong to a book group, I eagerly checked the book out of the library and began reading it last weekend. And today, instead of grading final projects for my Kaplan class, I sat in my recliner and finished the book. And I cried. I thought perhaps a few tears might slip by, blame it on the hormones, but I went into the ugly cry, taking deep, shaking breathes and wiping streams of tears from my face. I suppose that means I recommend the book.

Aside from the dog part, (which was a bonus for me as a person who likes to and needs to learn, and will probably be nicer to Casey from this day forward) the story included a beautiful metaphor that spoke to me so deeply: race cars as our bodies; the track as our lives; the rain as the weather - the good, bad, and ugly - that we endure in this life; and driving, the way that we handle our "cars", our bodies, ourselves in the weather.

Finally, because I thought it was beautiful, one quote from the book to end this post:

"To live every day as if it had been stolen from death, that is how I would like to live. To feel the joy of life. To separate oneself from the burden, the angst, the anguish that we all encounter everyday. To say I am alive, I am wonderful, I am. I am. That is something to aspire to. When I am a person, that is how I will live my life."-Garth Stein (character: Enzo the dog)

Leap Day

Leap day is a strange day, an "extra" day that sneaks its way into the calendar every four years. I've heard that women purposefully plan to have inductions or C-sections on Leap Day, but I cannot fathom why you would want to saddle your child with a one-quarter time birthday. My Leap Day was filled with braxton hicks contractions, and moments of panic spent searching the internet for clues about my symptoms and the chances of survival for pre-term babies.

It's the 29th and my 29th week begins today. Nesting is in full swing. Bella's room is being dismantled and put back together again. Closets that have been neglected for years now seem so offensive I can barely stand putting anything in them. Must. Organize. Must. Accomplish. But when?

3 Months to Go!

I'm entering the elephant-phase of this pregnancy. It can't bode well for me that on Friday night I was so tired when I put Bella to bed at 7:15, that I almost just fell asleep with her. Then, when I tried to play with Bella on the floor the other night, I got stuck, a la beached whale, and it took a while to resume my motherly composure. More of that to come, I'm sure!

The Great Escape

Our 10-day vacation visit with Jeff's Mom (Rose) and Stepdad (Larry) in Fort Myers Beach began early on February 3rd. We got in to Florida by 2, but didn't do much on our first day because it was rainy and we were tired.

Saturday (and every other morning) began with breakfast on the lanai. This is Jeff and I's favorite part of each day in Florida. There is coffee, pastry or cereal, the newspaper to read, and a view of boats, manatees and dolphins coming and going in the water. Bella stood at a small table facing the water, enjoying a glass of fresh orange juice and a bowl of oatmeal each morning.
On several mornings, a walk to the ocean followed our leisurely breakfast:

For the first few days, Bella's favorite hang-out at the pool was seated on the steps, doing "water work" with her watering can, bucket and shovel. She refused to actually go into the water beyond the first step.

Dinner with a view:

Sunday morning, relaxing by the pool:

Shoulder rides with Daddio:

Grandma keeps Bella well-dressed, even beachside. Bella practiced her ballet spins in my favorite swimsuit before a visit to the pool. (I wish I had a swimsuit that looked like this)...

Tuesday: My friend, Heidi, and her daughter, Leia, who were visiting her parents in nearby Marco Island, came by for a visit at the pool. When Bella saw that Leia would go in the pool, she decided she was ready to abandon her post on the stairs. After a few spins with me, she hung out with Grandma in the water.

Bella and Leia, post-swim:

Me and Heidi at the Fish House restaurant, where we had lunch:

Wednesday: On a morning trip to the beach with my girl we stopped to snap a photo on the alligator that guards the Holiday Inn near Rose and Larry's condo:

Thursday was an little cooler and overcast and I worked while Bella helped Grandma clean and do some shopping.

On Friday morning we were back at the beach, this time with Grandma, and Bella made friends with a little boy named Charlie. Toddlers speak a universal language that includes joyful shrieking while scooting ones behind across the sand, splashing water, and taking bucket after bucket of water to pour into holes dug in the sand.

The weekend was cool, so on Saturday we decided to drive down to Marco Island to visit Heidi, her parents and Leia.

The highlight of Sunday, which really was cold by south Florida standards with a high of 56, was a date night with Jeff at the Bayfront Bistro. We sat outside, with our coats on and heaters behind us, so that we could enjoy the beautiful view of the bay while we were dining.

We left for home Monday evening, but managed one last trip to the beach and pool. Is this a classic "I'm bored at dinner out with Mom and Dad" look, or what?

Birthday reflections

Since I may never get back to finishing this post, below, my birthday musings:

On my birthday when I sat down to think about the last year of my life, the first thing I could think of to be grateful for was sleep. In my 33rd year, full nights of sleep returned to my life. Glory be! I knew I was tired when I was getting up every night with Bella for 1-3 hours, but I couldn’t really focus on the effect it had on my productivity. Once she started sleeping, I was capable of rising early to sit on the sun porch, drink coffee and write. I was capable of greeting my husband with a smile in the morning, instead of a growl. I started running again. So sleep is one defining aspect of my 33rd year and one I am truly grateful for.

On this birthday, perhaps it would be better to spend time looking forward, rather than looking back. This year I choose optimism in the face of adversity. I choose to follow some of the sage wisdom offered by Helen Nearing in Loving and Leaving the Good Life, specifically:

Do the best you can; whatever arises

Be at peace with yourself

Don’t worry; live one day at a time

This year I have the birth of a new precious baby to anticipate and enjoy. In the few months I have before baby comes, I plan to set aside time to pursue my passion for writing. There is much about this year that I cannot plan. I do not know when Jeff will have open heart surgery and therefore it is hard to plan for his school schedule, return to work, and therefore my work schedule and plans for our baby and Bella’s care. I can only try to remember: Do the best you can; whatever arises.