Cloth Mother

Nicaragua (Part 4)

2012-02-23T23:37:00.001-06:00

Continued from Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

The 50K race that Rob was running involved approximately 20 miles on the road from Moyogalpa to El Porvenir and then hiking up and down Volcan Maderas (4000 ft elevation). My plan for race morning was to leave the Hacienda by 5:30am and run out to El Porvenir, which was only about 7 or 8 km from Mérida. That way I could see Rob right before he began to climb the volcano.

Course map from Fuego y Agua

William was not pleased when I roused him from bed shortly after 5am and took him up to the kitchen. Al was sitting in a hammock and said, "Here, give him to me," so I handed over my child. Itzel would be waking up soon and the nannies would be arriving before too long, so I hoped that Will would be okay and not too much trouble.

I took off down the road. It was light enough to see, but the sun had not yet risen. Rob would have been running now for an hour and a half already, using a headlamp to light his way. It was harder than I remembered, to run along the volcanic road. Rocks are everywhere-- you have to watch each and every step. I got into a rhythm after a while and it felt good. I was carrying a Clif bar and banana in case Rob needed these things, a bottle of water, my phone, and a camera.

I had plenty of time to make it to Porvenir, so I stopped to take a few photos once it was light enough.

Sandanista support is strong throughout the region

If Concepción starts erupting, head towards Maderas

The bus coming from Tichina, heading to Altagracia

I arrived at Porvenir just before 6:30, and a few minutes later the first runner came through. It was a Nicaraguan guy named Johnson. He won the race last year. He didn't even slow down as he turned to head up the volcano.

A few other runners came through, and at about 6:50, I caught site of Rob approaching. He was the 6th person to arrive.

Rob is on the left. Is he with Benjamin here? (The winner of the 100k?)

He looked strong and seemed to be in good spirits. I had been expecting him to just give me a wave as he kept right on running up the volcano, but instead, he halted to a walk and asked me if I wanted to come with him for a while. I did.

I asked him if he wanted the banana or the Clif bar I had brought with me, also expecting him to decline both of these things (I always bring food for him during races, but he never needs it). He eyed the banana for a second and said he thought he would try it. I handed it over, very glad that I had bought these bananas from Clara yesterday and that I had brought one of them with me. He started eating the banana and said it tasted very good (it is true, Clara's bananas were delicious).

"Oh, so that's what I look like eating a banana," Rob said afterwards, when he saw this photo.

As we walked up the path, he told me that there was a section on the course where the markers had gotten blown away and he and another runner had gone down the wrong path for a while. He didn't seem too upset about it though, he just seemed very calm and tranquilo. Happy, even.

We got up to the Porvenir aid station and he sat down in a chair. He was having a sock issue that had started causing a blister to form. At least 3 volunteers hovered around him, putting ointment and bandaids over the area. I was uneasy about the ground he still had left to cover with a raw toe (that was only likely to get worse), but he said he thought it was going to be okay.

He got some food, water, and energy drink and then retreived his drop bag, which had his trekking poles in it. He moved quickly but did not seem to be in a hurry. I had thought maybe he would just grab a drink and then take off barreling up the mountain, so I was really proud of him for making sure he had what he needed and that he was running a smart race. An extra few minutes of rest at the aid station might save him an hour up on the mountain. You never want to push it too early in a race like this because the time you bank always ends up being time you lose.

When he was ready to leave, he gave me a hug and kiss and then turned to head up the mountain. He looked strong, and I felt very confident for him. It was right at 7am, and I thought, he'll be done by 11am or noon unless he runs into difficulty on the volcano.

I stayed at the aid station for a couple minutes, talking with a really nice runner named Matt, from Utah. He had a little video camera with him and he was so excited to be here that he was filming everything. I wished Matt well and then headed back down to the road. I met several runners coming up, and I cheered for them. I actually wished I could stay up there for a while and keep cheering on runners, but I knew that I needed to get back and see how Will was doing.

I ran back to the field station in Mérida and arrived by 8am. Siméon was there and I gave him a full report of how Rob was doing. When I told him that I had run a little bit up the volcano with Rob, he threw his head back and laughed.

I had been worried about Will, but he was completely oblivious to me. He was too busy rifling through Itzel's toy box to even give me a second glance. "He never stopped running," Reyna told me in Spanish, looking a little bit tired. She'd been taking care of Itzel and William since she arrived around 6am. "He did not eat anything," she added, which was not much of a surprise to me. Reyna seemed very concerned about Will's refusal to eat breakfast. I don't think most Nicaraguan children turn down food when it is offered to them; they have to eat when they can.

I quickly showered and then came back out to order some gallo pinto, hoping that I could entice Will to eat some of that. I realized how hungry I was too-- I'd been up since before 5am and run 14-15km without even thinking about eating anything. When my breakfast arrived, I guess the women in the kitchen had decided to spruce it up a little bit. Instead of being just a plate of rice and beans, they also included a heaping mound of scrambled eggs cooked with onions and peppers, and some fresh baked bread.

I've been más o menos vegan since 2008, and I generally find eggs to be repugnant, but I thought, you know what? I am going to eat these eggs. They probably came from the hens freely ranging about the yard, or maybe they bought them from the Mennonite man (with the Nicaraguan wife) who used to ride his bike along the road-- selling eggs out of the crate strapped to the back of the bike. I'm not opposed to eating animal products if they've been harvested in a humane and sustainable way. So I ate those eggs, and they were delicious. Not like the sad eggs you can buy in the supermarket here.

Unfortunately, Will would not share the eggs or the gallo pinto with me. I couldn't get him to eat even one bite of food. People are always telling me, "Oh, kids won't let themselves starve to death. They'll eat when they're hungry." But I don't think these people have ever met any kids who were hyperemesis babies. How Will survives on what little he eats is a mystery to me.

After I gave up trying to get Will to eat something, Eduardo showed up at the field station on his bike. I hadn't been expecting him and I was so glad to see him. We talked some more, and he gave me a necklace that he said he had bought for me in Santo Domingo. "Es torquesa," he said proudly. I gave him a hug as my eyes filled with tears.

He said that he was happy here but he reiterated again how much he wants to come to the US. I told him that I would do whatever I could to help him (and I really mean that). I told him that he must stay in school and keep studying English, and he nodded, giving me a sad little smile like he knew that. But I also knew that staying in school wasn't necessarily his choice--when he was 13 and sent to go work in the plantain fields, I doubt that was really what he wanted to do.

He was interested in the race (and even said he wished he could run it next year!) and asked me when I expected Rob to finish. I said by 11 or 12 if he stayed strong. Eduardo told me that he had to go but he would return at that time to wait with me for Rob. I hugged him, and he rode away on his bike. He didn't come back-- maybe because he hadn't understood what time I told him, or maybe because there was something else he ended up having to do-- but I did not seem him again.

William was frantic and tired by this point (having been up since 5am), but he refused to nap. I tried to swing him in a hammock beside the finish line, but he didn't fall asleep. Finally I had this boy Darwin (who works at the field station and is the same age as Eduardo) help me get Will strapped into the Ergo on my back. Will struggled a little bit, but eventually he at least rested his eyes for a half an hour or so.

In the hammock with non-sleeping William. You can see the turquoise necklace Eduardo gave me.

The winner of the 50K had finished before 9:30am-- it was the Nicaraguan guy (Johnson) who I had seen way out in the lead at El Porvenir. Johnson stayed around for a little bit and then took off to go running again-- just for fun. I was glad that a Nicaraguan won the race. He's from the island, but I'm not sure where.

By about 11am, I knew I needed to stay by the finish line and be alert for Rob to appear at any moment. I started talking to a woman named Amy (or Aimee?) whose husband was doing the 100K.

11 o'clock came and went. By this time at least 9 runners had come in (though some where heading back out to finish the 100K), so I knew that Rob must have fallen behind a little. I wasn't terribly concerned yet, but still, talking to Amy helped keep me calm.

I lost count of the number of runners who came in. Things were starting to look bad. It was fast approaching noon, which I realized was my cut-off point for when to begin real, actual worrying.

At 11:55, he finished.

He was on his two feet; I saw no blood or visibly broken bones. But he seemed a little bit disoriented and honestly, looked about as beat up as I've ever seen him in any race he's done.

I was a little bit overwhelmed: I was texting my mom, my aunt, Rob's parents, while also trying to take pictures, Tweet, and Facebook. Not to mention keeping track of Will, who had since wriggled out of the Ergo and was running around the field station. When Will saw Rob come across the finish line, he shouted, YOU DID IT, ROB!

Rob didn't want anything to eat, and he didn't seem to be able to say much. Finally what he managed to tell me was, "I survived. It was intense."

I was a little bit concerned that a trip to the Moyogalpa hospital was on our horizon (for an IV), but eventually, he was able to eat some platanos with salt, and he seemed to start feeling a little better. Then, just like that, the shuttle was ready to take us back to Moyogalpa, and I had to gather up William and rush to catch it. There was no time to say goodbye to anybody. But maybe it was better that way, to just disappear without any of the long, tearful embraces that surely would have resulted if we'd been able to drag this out. I've never been good at saying goodbye anyway.

Nicaragua (Part 3)

2012-02-23T12:51:00.001-06:00

Continued from Part 1 and Part 2

William enjoyed his first experience of seeing wild howler monkeys during our trip to Nicaragua, but I am not sure he actually saw much because they were so far up in the trees.

He got bored with them much more quickly than I did and had Rob take him back to play with Itzel.

William refused to take a bath the entire time we were in Nicaragua. Actually, taking a bath was not really an option for him, as there was only a cold-water shower. We tried to get him into the shower, but he would not have it. There was a lot of screaming. He was so dirty. He invented a game with his new BFF Itzel (Al and Esther's daughter) which involved picking up rocks off the ground and throwing them. When Itzel tired of that and left to do something else, Will contented himself by literally playing in the dirt.

Will's general level of dirtiness did not seem to hamper him from making new friends. One of the best parts about this trip was the way I saw Will interacting with other kids. He wasn't shy at all. He would just go up to any kid he saw and start playing with them. The language barrier did not deter him. He also made friends with adults, teenagers, and really anyone of any age. He took a special liking to Ruth, one of the nannies to Al and Esther's kids.

I had a touch of the Vortex overnight on Thursday (Feb 16) and early Friday (Feb 17) morning, which I maintain is not because I drank tap water in either Moyogalpa or Mérida. Luckily no one else got it, and I made a full recovery by about 8:00am.

Rob left on the 8:30am bus to head back to Moyogalpa on Friday (the 17th). The race was to start on Saturday morning at 4am in Moyogalpa, and it finished in Mérida, so Will and I were going to stay and wait for him there.

I was a bit desperate to get Will cleaned up, so I convinced him (actually, this didn't take much convincing) to go for a swim in Lake Nicaragua. Not quite a bath, but perhaps the next best thing. The water was frigid, but Will loved it, and I figured that at this time of day there was very little risk of a shark attack.

Forget about the sharks and swim

After Rob left to go back to Moyogalpa, Will and I walked into "town." He had some trouble stumbling over the many rocks along the road, and he fell a couple of times. We stopped to take some pictures.

The road into town

Nicaraguan house

Primary school

Waiting for a jugo de toronja at Soda Keren

Nicaraguan house

On the way back we stopped at Clara and Jehu's house to say hello. They have a fruit stand and I bought some bananas from them. Will had finally gone long enough without eating that he actually sat there and took a few bites of banana. I took some pictures, and the best part of this is that Clara was not actually cooking at the time, she just grabbed the spoon to have in her hand as a prop right before I snapped the photo.

One of their children had a "Sully" stuffed animal-- a character from the movie Monsters Inc. This is a movie that Will is really into right now. He wanted that toy. The kids were very happy to let him play with it. Will even relinquished his grip on the Lightening McQueen car (that he carries everywhere with him) and let them play with it while he admired Sully.

Unfortunately, when I felt it was time to leave, Will was not ready to let go of Sully. He threw a monster fit, right there in the dirt. He wanted Sully so bad. The kids actually offered to let him have the toy. I said, no no no no. William has many things, he does not need to take this toy. They offered to trade Sully for McQueen, or to let Will take the toy and return it later in the afternoon. I knew that Will would never give Sully up once the toy was in his possession, and that he would likely come to miss Lightening once he noticed it was missing. So I declined these offers and said goodbye, forcibly dragging Will back to the Hacienda as he hollared and wailed for Sully.

I unsuccesfully tried to get Will to eat some more food and take a nap. Then later in the afternoon I rode with Al and Esther and their children and nannies to Charco Verde, where there was a pre-race dinner for the ultramarathon runners. I got to see Rob again and I also saw Joel (the French-Canadian English teacher back when we lived here), who was going to be running the 25K. We met Carla, his girlfriend.

Carla, Joel, Rob, Esther

I headed back to Mérida with Al and Esther that night, and Rob returned to Moyogalpa, to get precious little sleep before the race began at 4am the next morning.

Nicaragua (Part 2)

2012-02-22T22:42:00.001-06:00

Continued from Part 1

On Thursday morning (Feb 16), there were howler monkeys in the big Chilamate tree that overhangs Lake Nicaragua. From 2007, I remembered that howlers came there for a few weeks in March; it was quite convenient that they arrived a little bit early this year so that I could see them without even having to leave the Hacienda and hike into the forest. I spent a couple of hours out there watching them. I didn't recognize any of the monkeys-- they were not from any of the groups that I studied while I lived there. I counted 7 monkeys total (2 males, 4 females, 1 infant), which is small for an Alouatta palliata group. I wanted to see where they went at the end of the day-- surely the crossed the road and went back up into the forest-- but I missed it when they left, so I don't know where they went. I decided not to go up to my study site to look for my groups. I had not brought binoculars with me, so it would be difficult to find them. Plus, I was told that the gringos who bought land and built a hotel up there now charge tourists to walk through. I'm not sure if that is true or not, but I didn't feel like talking to them. And with a toddler to look after, I really didn't have the time to go all the way up there anyway.

By the late afternoon I was becoming a little frantic about finding Eduardo. I had told myself not to stress out about it; I would wait to look for him until after Rob left to go back to Moyogalpa and I was on my own. But I started panicking about what if I wasn't able to find him. I couldn't even remember for sure which one was his house. I went to ask one of the Hacienda staff about him, and she told me that he didn't live in Merida anymore. "No, no," I assured her. "He told me that he lives here with his mother. I just can't remember which one is his house. Is it the one right next to the school?" This seemed to jog her memory. She told me that Eduardo's family did not live there anymore, but they lived nearby. She seemed to sense that this was going to be difficult for me to understand in Spanish, so she got a scrap of paper and began drawing me a little map to his house. But then she looked up and stopped, saying, "Look, he is here".

And there he was, 16 and all grown up, walking towards me with the setting sun and the lake at his back. I could barely see him from the glare. I'd begun to wonder if I would recognize him after so much time had passed, but I would know Eduardo anywhere. He stayed gold.

I hugged him and kissed his cheek. He was taller than me now. His hair was very, very curly. I thought he looked a lot like his mom.

I couldn't stop myself from crying. He seemed so mature. He was reserved but not shy, calm but not apathetic, content but not exhuberant. I gave him the Swiss Army knife we brought for him and he thanked me. He gave me a small stone, and he told me to hold it up to the sunlight and it would turn gold. It did. He said he was back in school and taking English classes again at the Hacienda in the afternoons. He said he had been there the day before, looking for me, but I was not there. I thought, with great irony, no, I wasn't here yesterday because I was walking along the road wondering if I might find you, Eduardo.

We sat at the tables and talked for a while, all in Spanish. I asked him if he was happy and he said yes, but then he said, Meli, I have a question for you--how can a Nicaraguan come to the US? I told him that I didn't really know. You probably needed a passport and visa, but I wasn't sure how you got those things. He said he wanted to come to the US to study music. I said I would try to help find out how he could do that. I don't know what the best thing is for Eduardo. It is selfish of me to wish that he could come here. Maybe he would have more opportunities, a better life, but I don't know for sure. And I worry that his mother would be sad if he left. I would not like it if William ever went far away from me.

He said when he is on vacation from school, he goes to Ojo de Agua, where his grandfather lives, and he works. Many tourists go there to swim. Eduardo climbs up the palm trees to cut down coconuts. Tourists buy them for 20 cordobas and drink the coconut water. I hoped that Eduardo was careful with his machete, and I wondered if he would really be happier here. St. Louis seems so gray and sad and full of angry drivers. Is it really such a bad life, selling coconuts to tourists? I don't know, maybe it is.

I talked to Al after Eduardo left for his English class, and I couldn't stop crying. We discussed some ways that I might be able to help Eduardo, maybe even a way to get him here eventually if that is what he wants. I told myself not to get my hopes up too much about this (I have so many times before), but as you might imagine, I already did.

Our old dog Scott Fargus showed up at the field station. I couldn't believe he was still alive.

William enjoyed putting on my sunglasses. Everyone thought it was cute that Will and I had on matching shirts. I couldn't help but remember this was the shirt I was wearing the day that dogs attacked Scooby's mom and I ran down the volcano carrying Scooby in my arms after he fell from the tree.

Then we all watched the sunset from the dock.

Nicaragua (Part 1)

2012-02-22T22:25:00.001-06:00

Here is a stream of consciousness account of our recent trip to Nicaragua, where Rob ran the Fuego y Agua ultramarathon (50K). For those who don't know the history, we lived on Ometepe Island for a year (Aug 2006-Aug 2007) when I did my dissertation research on wild Nicaraguan mantled howler monkeys.

We got up at 3 in the morning on Valentine's Day and left St. Louis in a snowstorm to fly to Nicaragua. After we arrived at the airport in Managua, we ran across the Pan-American highway (with Will in our arms) and got into a taxi with no seat belts, much less a car seat. It seemed safer than going to Huembes bus station and looking like gringos who were begging to get mugged while waiting for a chicken bus to San Jorge. I eventually got used to the no car-seat thing. But not running across the Pan-American highway. I never remembered so much traffic being on that road. It was proably just about the scariest thing of the whole trip-- I was so terrified Will would wiggle out of our arms into the rush of the traffic.

We got to San Jorge at 5:15pm and the last ferry of the day was taking off at 5:30. We had to run to the dock, carrying Will and all our luggage. I tried to take the heaviest bags because Rob's back still hurt from when he injured it a few weeks ago, and neither of us wanted anything to jeopardize his attempt at Fuego y Agua in just a few days. By sheer force of will, I managed to step onto the boat in the nick of time.

While I did my best not to throw up (Lake Nicaragua is very rough this time of year), Will eagerly explored his surroundings. There was a little Nicaraguan girl on the ferry who was about his same age and Will announced, "I GO PLAY WITH BABY." He went up to her, just like that, and they started playing. I tried to claw through the nausea so that I could look at the two of them, it was so cute. They ran around in circles and banged on the seats and looked out the window. The sun set. At last we arrived on the island.

In the dark, we walked up the hill to Hospedaje Central, where we stayed for the night. It was filthy and hot and full of nice but not-so-great smelling back-packers. I was worried because Will had not had much to eat all day. We got bottled water so I could make him some powdered soy milk, so at least that was something. I was hungry and shared some salad with Rob. I remembered the time we stayed in this place before (in 2008), when the power went out and there was no food and it was so unbearably hot, and all we had to eat were these tiny bananas that Don Alberto had given us earlier in the day. I missed Don Alberto and was sad that he passed away.

Hospedaje Central is the kind of place that is so dirty you feel like it will actually make you even more dirty to take a shower or really, to even step foot in the bathroom. I tried not touch much of anything while I was there, which made sleeping difficult. We made it through the night and took the 8:30 bus to Merida-- after stocking up on juice and snacks for Will.

Walking into the Hacienda was like stepping right back into my old life. It didn't feel weird or overly emotional or any of the things I had expected. It just felt like maybe I had been gone for a weekend, and now here I was again, only this time with a 2-1/2 year old child.

They had fixed up our old room for us-- C7-- and they even moved in a twin bed for Will. There were mosquito nets around the beds, which made them very pretty, and flower petals on the sheets. It was so beautiful and nice that maybe I should have felt like crying, but I didn't. Maybe it was because I was so tired, or maybe It just felt like I was at home.

Everyone went wild over William, of course. Nicaraguans are a very baby-loving people. La Reyna was working in the kitchen and came out to greet us. She said she had just had a baby (her third) three months ago. She was very happy to finally have a boy (her first two children are girls) and we agreed that little boys are the best things ever. She said she thought they are easier than girls-- you don't have to braid their hair.

Leda was there too, she is little and just my size, and we gave each other a hug. Doña Argentina and Doña Dina came ouf of the kitchen to see us and meet William. Everybody couldn't get over how cute William was. I was still very worried about his lack of eating or sleeping over the past couple of days, but it was good to have him in Nicaragua.

Simeón came around dinner time, with the other volcano guides, to see if any of the tourists wanted to arrange a climb for the next day. I was so happy to see him. I made Rob take a picture of the two of us. I asked him how many times he had climbed the volcano, and he said, sometimes 3 or 4 times a week. I asked him how many times in his lifetime he had climbed it and he just laughed and said, too many to count. Randol was there too, the guide that went with us when Rob and I first climbed the volcano in February 2007. I asked him if he remembered how much I struggled with it and he said yes of course. He tried to cover up his laughter at the memory of me slipping and sliding down the volcano, when somehow, chain-smoking, hungover tourists don't seem to have any trouble with it. I am still perplexed as to why it was so hard for me. Simeón talked to Rob about the race, in fact, he was very interested in it. He said that he thought Rob was going to win. I said that I thought Rob would win too. Rob told us not to say that, it would jinx it. And so Simeón laughed and he told Rob, then I will say the reverse. I think you will lose (and saying that will make you win).

Continue to Part 2.

Dear William (30 months!)

2012-02-12T17:13:00.001-06:00

Dear William,

Today you are 30 months old! That is 2-1/2 years! It is your half birthday, hooray!!

What a busy month you had.

We went up to visit your Aunt and Uncle and Cousins. You had so much fun playing cars and dinosaurs with your cousin Logan! While we were there, it was kind of funny because you kept calling Logan "Anton." I guess you got him confused with your BFF (who is also blonde!). Once you got mad at Logan because he was playing with a toy you wanted (it was his toy, William), and you said, "Stop it, Anton." I about fell over laughing. But after we got home from that trip, you were very sad and you kept asking "Where Logan go?" You still tell me that you want to go back to Logan's house. We will, someday, Wiliam, just not right now.

We went on some more hikes this month:

You like hiking so much that we sometimes even hike indoors:

We had a snowstorm. You looked out the window in the morning and gasped and said, "It snowed!" You got to wear your snow boots to school that day.

You got a train table! You love building train tracks. You say, "Chugga chugga CHOO CHOO!"

Your grandparents came and we went to go see Sesame Street Live at the Opera House. You loved it!! You sang along to all the songs.

You showed your belly (I'm not quite sure why):

You had plenty of time to act silly this month!

Your dad got glasses!

Well, William, that's about it for this month. The good news is, we've got a really exciting adventure planned for next month! In just a few days we're getting on a plane and flying to Nicaragua, where your mama is going to catch up with some monkeys and friends, and your daddy is going to run the Fuego y Agua ultramarathon! I can't wait to take you to Nicaragua. You are going to have so much fun. All of our friends are so excited to meet you!

Stay tuned for more exciting adventures to come!

Love always,

Your mom

Fuego y agua

2012-01-29T14:19:00.001-06:00

In case you missed it on Twitter or Facebook, the Ragfields are going back to Nicaragua.

Rob has decided he is going to run the 50 Km Fuego y Agua Ultramarathon, on La Isla de Ometepe, on February 18th. Part of the race includes climbing up (and back down) Volcan Maderas. I climbed the volcano once in my lifetime, and it is not something I would be eager to repeat.

I wasn't going to go with him, but then I got message from Eduardo, and I couldn't not go.

Currently trying to avoid thinking about how many diapers to take and what to do when Will inevitably refuses to eat, or worse yet-- if someone gets sick.

Dear William (29 months)

2012-01-12T14:59:00.001-06:00

Dear William,

Today you are 29 months old.

This month, we visited the Butterfly House.

We discovered that you are kind of afraid of butterflies. At least when they are flying around in the air and land on you. Otherwise, you like to look at pictures of them in books.

You had another visit from your BFF Anton.

And we had Christmas!

Your favorite gift of all was your Woody doll.

You got to see all your grandparents.

Mom and Dad took a break from work and we went on some hikes!

You got a few dinosaur tattoos for doing poops on the potty.

William, you have been talking more this month, and that is great. I love hearing about what is on your mind. You tell me about your day at school. Most of the time I can only understand about 1/5 of the words you say, so it reminds me a lot of when someone is speaking to me in Spanish. We're working on your prononciation.

You've had a hard time sleeping this month. You don't want to go to sleep anymore. It is often 9 or 10pm before we can get you to bed. We read story after story. We sit on the potty. We sing songs. You want me to lie down next to you in your bed and cuddle with you. When I try to tell you nigh nigh and get up and leave, you grab me by the hair and say "NO... STAY, MOMMY!" It is hard to argue with that, but William, somebody has to do the laundry and clean up the kitchen and get lunches packed, etc. The whole process is very exhausting.

After we manage to get you to go to sleep, there is no telling how long you will actually stay asleep. You generally wake up at some point in the night and want to join Mommy and Daddy in their big bed (which, consequently, is not so big when all three of us are in it). I don't sleep very well when you are with us, but most of the time I don't mind. You are very cuddly and I love holding you in my arms while you sleep. Someday I suppose you will be 13 and aloof and I will long for these days.

I have asked you why you cry at night and want to come to bed with us, and you keep telling me, "I SCARED OF ALLIGATORS," which is a bit perplexing to me. I tell you that we don't have alligators in Missouri, so you don't need to worry about them. You seem to agree with me and say "ALLIGATOR GONE. HE BYE-BYE." And yet. You still want to come to bed with Mommy and Daddy.

William, I have really enjoyed spending time with you this month. I have enjoyed having conversations with you, and I've especially enjoyed your hugs and kisses. I am looking forward to all the fun things that are in store for us next month!

Love always,

Your mom

Good riddance, 2011

2011-12-30T21:15:00.001-06:00

Christmas 2011 was going along really well, at least a hell of a lot better than Christmas 2010, when we had double mortgages, sinus infections, terrible weather, and a catastrophic event that damn near ruined us. This year, Christmas seemed like a nice, gentle, spring breeze in comparison.

By far, the best thing about this Christmas was that for the first time in recent memory, no one was going through hypermesis. I was so thrilled about that. Oh my god, was I ever thrilled.

My mom made vegan party potatoes, and they were delicious. And I could eat them! Without feeling sick! It was amazing. I was so, so thankful, that for all practical purposes, my sister and I are both done with hyperemesis forever.

After Christmas dinner, Will took a nap. Rob decided he wanted to hike at Detweiller Park, and I went with him. I guess I had momentarily forgotten who Rob is because what he had termed as a hike was for me an all-out, balls to the walls, full steam ahead, trail run. It was nice, though, and there were really very few times when I thought I was going to die by careening off a cliff face.

Chilled and kind of tired from the trail run, we still managed to stop by Amy MeyPfan's house (actually, her mother's house) so that she and I had a chance to see each other. I was still feeling pretty good, though a little agitated because the trail run had taken longer than I'd anticipated and I was eager to get home and see what Will was up to. Then I started feeling kind of bad. For no apparent reason. There was nausea. Seemingly out of nowhere. It was starting to feel like 2 of the marathons I've run when I haven't eaten for a long time afterwards and gotten really, really @#$%^& up. I didn't think I could be hungry... I'd just had Christmas dinner. Those vegan party potatoes. God, the vegan party potatoes. Let us not mention them again.

I decided that I was dehydrated. I hadn't taken my own water on the trail run (thinking, mistakenly, that it was to be a nice and easy hike) and had taken only a sip or two from Rob's Camelback the whole time. I must be dehydrated. I needed water.

So we left Amy's, and I still thought I would be able to make a full recovery if I just got some water. I drank. I felt worse. Rob drove, and I texted my Aunt to let her know we were on our way back to my parents. She had been planning on coming over after Rob and I returned from our "walk at the park."

We got home, and I felt very, very bad. I was freezing and I thought, I must have been out in the cold too long. I was sure that drinking some water and taking a hot shower would bring me back to life. I just wasn't sure how exactly I was going to manage to shower, because I could barely stand up. Get it together, Melissa, I told myself, Auntie is already on her way over.

So I got in the shower. The shampoo smelled gross. The soap smelled gross. Everthing smelled and felt gross. Just like when I was pregnant.

And then, before I'd even been able to get my hair rinsed out, I had to bolt from the shower and projectile vomit into the toilet. Just like when I was pregnant. Jebus, the first 11 weeks of my pregnancy (the pre-Zofran weeks), I think I puked every time I took a shower. It @#$%-ing sucked.

I did the mature thing, which was to start sobbing hysterically.

I tried to push all the nastiness aside, because I really wanted to see my Aunt. Plus, I actually felt a lot better after I threw up, which was great. That never happened when I had hyperemesis. I thought it was strange, but it seemed like the most likely explanation was that I'd overexerted myself on the hike, perhaps too soon after Christmas dinner, and that I'd gotten dehydrated. I've felt this way many times after running... although never to the point of actually throwing up.

Well, I was only able to see my Aunt and Uncle for about 5 minutes before I had to stumble back downstairs and puke again. And again, and again. It was scary as hell to me, because my hyperemesis began exactly 3 years ago to the day, when I woke up at my parents' on Christmas morning and puked in the shower. It brought back a lot of memories, particularly of things that I would very much like to forget.

By the middle of the night when I couldn't go more than an hour without puking, I realized that this must be a stomach virus.

It is ironic, you know. I was so thrilled about not being nauseous or vomiting this Christmas, and then *bam* the stomach flu. I puked for maybe 24 hours straight-- even breaking my hyperemesis record of the number of times puked in one day. After the puking stopped, I felt so completely wiped out. As in, walking up a flight of stairs made me dizzy enough to nearly pass out. It was actually several days before that went away.

As of now, I am pretty much back to normal. The weird thing is, nobody else got sick. I am so glad that I didn't pass it along to anybody, but it just doesn't make any sense... I shared a water bottle with Rob during our trail run, for crying out loud! It's a mystery.

Good riddance, 2011. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

Dear William (28 months)

2011-12-12T12:56:00.001-06:00

Dear William,

Today you are 28 months old.

You've been talking a lot more than in the past. For example, you recently rammed my head with your (very hard) head, and I cried out, "Owwww." Then, perhaps feeling bad, you seized my face in your hands and kissed my eyebrow. I said, "Thank you William!" and you ran into the other room to tell your father, "I KISSED MOMMY."

You sing a lot. You like "Take Me out to the Ballgame" and "Itsy Bitsy Spider." You love singing the ABC's and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." You also taught us a new song that you learned at daycare:

Twinkle Twinkle Dinosaur

He lets out a mighty roar

When he walks he STOMP STOMP STOMPS

When he eats he CHOMP CHOMP CHOMPS.

I think you sing a song at daycare about a Baby Shark. I don't know how it goes, but the other day while you were eating breakfast, you very clearly wanted me to sing Baby Shark. I don't know that song, so I started singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and you got very frustrated. You glared at me and said "KY-IT, MOMMY. BABY SHARK. BABY SHARK!!!!!!!" I guess I will have to ask Mr. D, your daycare teacher, how that one goes.

This past month we had Thanksgiving, and you saw both sets of grandparents:

You went with Mommy and Daddy and helped us pick out a Christmas tree, which we then decorated:

We went to the mall, where you did some window shopping:

You pointed to a photo of Demi Moore and said "Mommy!"

You sat on Santa Claus' lap:

You fell asleep in the car while we were Christmas shopping:

We read lots of stories, especially before bedtime. Your current favorites are When I Get Bigger by Mercer Mayer (you call it I BIGGER), and My Little Golden Book of Primates, which contains some factually incorrect information but has some great pictures. You can tell the difference between apes and monkeys. You point to the gibbons and say "GIBBON! NO TAIL!" and you can successfully identify the howler monkey as well as make howler vocalizations. You also have an animal encyclopedia book that you love. You can name every animal in that book. I have no idea how you learned this, but about the second time we read the book, you pointed to the chinchilla and said "CHINCHILLA!"

Sometimes you insist on wearing your diaper on the outside:

You saw a Blue Angel and some dinosaurs at the Science Center:

You saw mammoths and cave bears at the Missouri History Museum:

You saw trains and flowers at the Missouri Botanical Garden:

We went hiking in the rainforest (okay, it was just the Climatron):

You enjoyed playing with your Mr. Potatohead:

You applied for a passport:

It has been a busy month, William, but you still find the time to be very sweet. Sometimes you don't want to go to sleep because you'd rather keep reading or playing with Mommy and Daddy. You say, "ROCK YOU," which means that you want me to rock you. And so I do that. You put your arms around me as we rock in the chair, or you put your hand on my cheek and smile at me. You love hugs and kisses. You are constantly hugging and kissing us. That is so great. I hope you always are so cuddly.

William, we have had such a wonderful month. I am looking forward to each and every minute that we get to spend together.

Love you,

Mama

Going places with William

2011-12-07T23:20:00.001-06:00

A few weeks ago, we took Will to the Gardenland Express exhibit at the Missouri Botanical Garden. He was more interested in running around than in actually looking at the trains or flowers, but every once and a while he did slow down enough to take a little bit of notice. Unfortunately, he didn't slow down enough for us to get a good picture of the three of us while we were there. That's too bad because it would have made an awesome Christmas card.

We also walked around outside a bit and then went in the Climatron, which was the most freaking awesome thing ever. It was an honest to God indoor rainforest. I could have spent days and days in there. It was hard to take pictures inside because the instant you took out your camera, the lens would fog over. It was beautiful and amazing. It made me wonder what I am doing with my life and why I am not back in the jungle studying monkeys like I ought to be.

When we finally left, Will was tired and practically beside himself. He would alternately throw himself on the ground for no reason, or just plant it and refuse to move. I said to him, "Will do you want to walk or do you want me to hold you?" He looked at me quite plaintively and said, "HOLD YOU."

Sometimes he doesn't get his pronouns quite right.

I picked him up and carried him the rest of the way, which was actually a long way, out of the gardens and back to the car. My arms got very tired. As we were walking throught he parking lot, he pressed his cheek against mine and he gave a little giggle. I could feel him smile. I said, "Do you want to press your cheek against Mommy's cheek?" He smiled again and said, "CHEEK." He was very sweet and my arms didn't feel so tired anymore, and I was glad to be carrying him.

Last weekend, Rob was away somewhere with the car, and on Saturday morning I decided that Will and I would take the train to the Missouri History Museum to go to a Mammoth and Mastadon Story Hour they were having. Will can be very slow in the mornings, or really, any time that you are trying to get him to do something on time. I finally got him moving by repeatedly telling him that we were going to take the train and stressing how fun that would be. Every other time I've taken him on the train, I've put him in the stroller to walk over to the station, but this time I decided to leave the stroller at home. The stroller tends to become a big nuisance when we get to wherever we're going because I've got to try to hang onto it in addition to hanging onto William (he generally refuses to stay in the stroller for long periods of time), and that can be quite a challenge.

The 1/4 mile walk to the train station was slow but methodical-- I was proud of William for moving along at quite a respectable pace for a 2-year old and not planting it or throwing any fits.

We had a very long wait once we got to the train station because on weekends the train only comes every 1/2 hour, and apparently we got there right after the last train had left. But we got through it. I told William to look for the train, and for the most part, he did-- he stood there and stared down the tunnel, every once and a while saying, "TRAIN COMING?"

At last the train arrived and he was very excited. We got onto the train and he marched right over to an empty seat and climbed up in it to sit. He was beaming. This was the first time he'd ever been on the train when he wasn't in his stroller. He really enjoyed sitting in that seat.

Unfortunately, the museum was only 2 stops away, so it was a very short ride. He did not want to get off that train. A look of horror washed his face when I told him we were getting off the train, and he planted it. He clung to the seat. He cried. He screamed. He kicked. Red splotches of anger appeared on his face. I ended up having to hoist him up and haul him off of the train. He cried and kicked and screamed all the way to the museum, about another 1/4 mile away. I became very exasperated.

Once inside the museum, he was briefly assuaged when he saw the giant replicas of a mammoth and cave bear in the foyer. He said, "ELEPHANT!" And "BEAR!" I finally found where the story hour was being held (by this point, we were 1/2 hour late), and he walked in the room, made a big circle, and walked out again. That was that. Just not interested. He then proceded to amuse himself by walking up and down the stairs to the upper and lower level of the museum. It was exhausting.

He became a bit fussy and I asked him what he wanted and eventually he said, "HOME." So back we went, to trek towards the train station once again. We had another long wait. I managed to distract him by giving him one of his animal books to read, and he promptly ripped out two of the pages. "No, William, we don't rip pages in books!" I said.

The train arrived and we boarded, while he was still clutching his torn book. We sat down together and he held the book out to me. In a tone of both impishness and regret, he said to me "I RIP PAGE."

He did not want to get off the train at our stop, so I decided we could stay on until the next one. It would be a slightly farther walk back to our house, but more through residential areas. I knew at this point I would be carrying him most of the way, and I thought I'd prefer walking through quiet streets rather than a busy road.

So we got off the train and headed for home. He was moving very slowly and I said, "William, would you like me to hold you?" He said, "HOLD YOU." So I picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. My back ached. My arms hurt so bad. He laid his head against my shoulder and wrapped his arms tight, tight around me. I said, "William, what would you like for lunch?" He said, "CHEEZ-ITS!" I laughed. "You can't have Cheez-its for lunch! How about you have some cheese instead?" He giggled. "NOOO." "How about some apple?" I offered. He giggled again and said no. "Well, what else would you like, then?" I asked. He thought for just a second and replied, "CAKE!"

It is really nice to have these little conversations with each other. For so long, I have wondered what is going on in his mind, and although it is still mainly a mystery to me, it feels good to see it bit by bit.

Thanks for reading.

I've got to get over my aversion to kale

2011-11-12T15:22:00.001-06:00

I follow a local news reporter on Twitter, and around a week ago she tweeted a story about a relatively new business in the area, called NeighborGood Foods.

I was like, this is what I have been waiting for my entire life. Organic, (mainly) local produce, delivered right to my doorstep. It sounded too good to be true. I thought, there's got be a catch. This can't really be so many ways of perfect.

I decided to take a chance. I ordered the smallest box ($25). I figured, there will be like a piece of wilted kale in it and maybe a mealy apple. But whatever. I just wanted to see.

I didn't even have to talk to anybody. I placed the order online, and then texted with the guy to narrow down a delivery time. That part was pretty easy, since Rob works at home so he is pretty much always here to go and answer the door.

So they came yesterday afternoon. When I got home from work there was a gigantic box of produce waiting for me.

Are you ready for a list of what was in the box?

Here goes:

1 Bunch carrots

1 Green pepper

1 Purple pepper

1 Onion

4 Potatoes

3 giant radishes

1 bunch curly mustard grees

1 bunch Russian kale

Several bunches of Spinach

2 tomatoes

1 head Red leaf lettuce

3 giant turnips

Head cauliflower

Bunch broccoli

1 Spaghetti squash

Large bag of Green beans

3 apples

1 orange

Parsley

Sage

Thyme

Mint

Seriously!! If I had bought all of that at the grocery store-- even if I'd gone with conventional produce and not organic or local-- it would have probably cost at least $40. Okay, actually, I don't really know how much it would cost, but I'm just sort of estimating how much I think each item would cost and adding it up. And I think I'm lowballing the estimate in most cases. Plus, if I'd gone out and bought all that stuff on my own, it would have taken time and energy that I don't have.

This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.

Besides William.

And Rob.

And my NSF grant.

We ate salads last night (made from this produce) with our dinner (leftover quinoa and beans). Will wasn't too excited about any of it, but he did take a a few bites out of one of the apples:

I am in vegan heaven. Believe it or not, I have never actually worked with turnips before, so I am trying to figure out what to do with them for dinner tonight.

And I am actively trying to forget what it is like to repeatedly throw up kale. In defense of this kale, it is a lot more delicate than the kale that I have previously thrown up. I figure, worse case scenario, I can drizzle it with olive oil and bake it in the oven to make kale chips. I think I could keep those down.

Feeling a tiny bit more at home in St. Louis.

Dear William (27 months)

2011-11-12T14:38:00.001-06:00

Dear William

Today you are 27 months old!

You've had quite a month of ups and downs.

We went camping.

You dressed like your dad sometimes.

We had Halloween. You were a chef.

You rode your scooter and climbed over things.

You had a visit from your friend A. We think this will be the cover of your album when you start a boy-band.

Looking forward to another month of fun with you!

Love,

Your mama

The Teal Nightmare

2011-10-30T15:12:00.001-05:00

A week ago I ran the St. Louis Rock and Roll Marathon. It was my 11th marathon overall-- my 3rd since Will was born and my first since he stopped nursing. I trained pretty well for it, considering that I'm also working full time, caring for a small child, writing a novel, creating a new framework of Alouatta ontogeny, folding laundry, scrubbing toilets, and cooking everybody's dinner in all my spare time.

Weather on race was perfect, and other than being chronically sleep deprived, everything was great. I dressed all in teal, as you can see below. I don't know why. I didn't really plan it. I centered my wardrobe around those shorts, just because they are really comfortable. It turned out that the race number was teal too, which I didn't even find out until the day before when I picked up my packet. Before the race I even wore a teal fleece, which was also unplanned. It is just the oldest fleece I own and the one I would be the least sad to lose if I ended up just throwing it down on the side of the road. I felt like a veritable teal nightmare.

Rob's parents visited us that weekend, and they stayed at home with Will. Rob and I took the metro downtown before dawn, which was nice and also kind of fun. The train was packed with runners, and I made friends with a nice lady who was running the half. We arrived downtown by about 6:30 and then stood out there in the semi-cold for an hour waiting for the start.

I ran pretty slow in the first miles, kind of just because I had to. They did a "wave start" (I was in the 6th corral), which probably helped a lot with the conjestion, but it was still fairly congested. After the first couple miles went by way too slowly, I got a little panicky and started frantically trying to pick up the pace. The thing is, it actually felt pretty difficult to run any faster, which should have been a bad sign. You don't want to feel tired at mile 4 of a marathon. I ignored it and ran faster. This is a terrible strategy, I know, but it actually worked for me really well at the Indianapolis Marathon in 2008. I thought I would be okay. I ran a couple of 8:15's and then kept it steady at 8:35 for a while. I thought I could pull off a 3:45 finish.

There were hills. I didn't worry about them. I just ran. About mile 8 I thought, something doesn't feel right. I'd brought my phone with me and had an "Emergency Playlist" of Amy Ray songs to get me through if something terrible happened. I never ever ever listen to music when I'm running a marathon, but at mile 8, I turned it on. I thought, I'll just listen to this for a mile or two and then I'll feel better.

Around mile 9, I saw Rob again. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up, all the while thinking, why am I giving him a thumbs up? I feel terrible. I kept running. I ate some Clif Shot blocks and took some Endurolytes. I drank water at every aid station. The energy replacement drink was "Cytomax," which tasted like Lemon Pledge. Seriously. As a public service announcement to race directors: Just do Gatorade. Always. I guess it is probably more complicated, involving things like sponsorship and money and whatnot, but Cytomax and Melissa did not mix. I know, I know. I should have realized Cytomax was the energy drink at this marathon and gone out and found somewhere to buy it so that I could get used to running with it. But seriously, I just could not deal with that. Too many loads of laundry to fold, too many crock pots of chili to make. I can buy Gatorade at Schucks, so that is what I train with. During the marathon, I got horrible stomach cramps, so I stopped taking any Cytomax. I thought, I've got my Clif Shot blocks and Endurolytes... I'll be okay."

There were more hills. There was a big hill at mile 14. I'd been running 8:35's but I dropped to over 9:00. The 3:50 pace group passed me. I remained convinced that their pace leader was running way too fast and they were ahead of schedule. I picked up my pace again but felt completely dead and I still couldn't catch them. I then convinced myself that it was actually the 3:40 pace group that had passed me. (It wasn't).

I felt more and more terrible. I took an orange slice from somebody in the crowd. It tasted good, but I felt no better. I didn't understand why I just had no energy... I'd eaten a whole pack of Shot Blocks by this point (200 calories)-- which is more than I've eaten during some entire marathons. I wasn't drinking electrolytes, but I had taken a couple of Endurolytes, which I thought would be equivalent.

At mile 16, I saw Rob again. I'd been listening to Beauty Queen Sister for a while on repeat by this point, completely ignoring all the cover bands out there on the course who were playing things like Sweet Home Alabama. I must have looked bad. Rob stayed with me for the next 10 miles, riding off to the side on his Bike Friday.

He said he had a banana and did I want it. I said yes. I couldn't even say thank you when he handed it to me. I took a bite and knew it was a mistake. It felt kind of like when I threw up kale, except with banana instead. I'd had enough calories, I didn't think I needed to eat, so why did I feel this way?

There were more hills, and a hairpin turn around a cone in Carondelet Park. I couldn't handle anything but water at the aid stations, and most of the time I ended up coughing up the water because for some reason my throat wasn't working right. Around mile 18, they were handing out salt packets and I took one. I've never done that at a marathon before. I thought, surely, this will help.

At mile 19, I thought I would call my mom. I tried to get the voice activation thing working on my phone but for some reason it didn't, and I was too exhausted to mess with it. I just kept listening to Amy Ray, and I kept looking at Rob on his bike. I thought, I didn't put Dairy Queen on this playlist. How could I have forgotten? It was the song I gave birth to.

There were more hills.

Rob said, "You can finish it in 3:55." But that was only if I could hold my current pace.

At some point after mile 20, there were a couple guys on the road who cheered for me, and said, "You're doing great, young lady!"

I actually laughed, and I said to Rob, "They think I'm young." **

There was more of a crowd as I got closer to the finish. During the last couple of miles, I remember a short haired lady along the sideline who looked right at me and cheered and gave me too thumbs up. I started crying and whispered, "Thank you."

Finally I could see the finish. I was running exactly 10:00 minute pace, which would put me there at exactly 3:56. I thought, if I can just pick it up a little, even just a tiny bit... I can cross the finish line while it is still in the 3:55's. Even if it is 3:55:59. I gave it everything I had. I gave it to glory. I crossed the finish line at... exactly 3:56:00. I have no idea what my "official" chip time is. I've never bothered to look it up. I don't really care, I guess.

It was an ugly, ugly, marathon for me. Not my ugliest by far, but definitely in the top 3 of Melissa's Ugly Marathons. Afterwards, I was so nauseated I felt like I was having a bout of hyperemesis. We took the metro home and it was all I could do not to puke. I was pretty sure that I was Mostly Dead.

We got back home (we have to walk up a big hill to get from the metro station to our house). I think Will may have been napping, or maybe I got to talk to him for a little while, I honestly can't remember. I was Mostly Dead. I had made a crock pot of chili the night before, so that everybody would have something to eat for lunch, but I couldn't really eat it. I tried to tell myself, I was really sick after Indianapolis last year, but I started feeling better after I actually ate food. I managed a few bites, but felt even worse. I got myself upstairs and slept (emesis bowl in hand) for maybe 20 minutes or 2 hours, I can't remember which. Eventually I realized I was going to live, and I was able to eat again and started feeling better.

I really have no complaints about the Rock and Roll Marathon or the race course or organization, per se. A marathon is a marathon. It is going to be hard, it is going to be ugly. There is really no way around that. The course was definitely hilly, but how do you have a flat marathon in St. Louis? You don't. I thought I would be okay with it, considering that I live here and this is where I do all of my training runs. Rob pointed out that I run a lot in Forest Park, which is essentially flat. This could be my problem. I consider Forest Park to be fairly hilly... at least, with a few gently rolling hills. I thought, training there would be better than nothing. I'm not sure it was. I don't know. There is a giant hill right by my house, that I have to run up everytime I run. I thought that counted for something. I guess not. I've never survived a hilly marathon very well.

I had to work until 8pm the next day, and that kind of sucked, but not as bad as I'd feared.

I am about 99% certain that I am going to run the Go! St. Louis marathon in April. The website describes the course as challenging and hilly, so I am probably out of my mind. But here is my rationale: I'm not going to do well in a spring marathon, period. It is just too hard to train in the winter when you've got 2 months of ice on the ground and it gets dark at 4:30pm. So I'm going to suck it up, use it as a training run to keep myself in shape, and finally (hopefully) get my redemption with my 13th marathon next fall, a year from now. Maybe then I will have finished my novel and the howler chapter, and we can hire someone to deal with our laundry and crock pots of chili so that I can get more rest. Maybe it will be easier to travel somewhere and run something flat and fast again. We'll see.

Thanks for reading.

** This references an Arrested Development quote, but I can't find a good website with the line.

Dear William (26 months)

2011-10-12T21:38:00.001-05:00

Dear William,

Today you are 26 months old! You are such a delightful little person.

The biggest thing that happened this month was that you transitioned from your crib to your toddler bed! It was very exciting. The first several nights were very rough, actually. But it seems like you've got the hang of it now!! You are so cute in your toddler bed. I love it because I can crawl in beside you to read stories or kiss you.

You slept in the big bed with mama and daddy a lot during this transition period, and even though none of us really got much sleep throughout that, it was okay because you did incredibly cute and wonderful things such as roll over in your sleep, grasp my hand, smile, and whisper, "Mama."

On the second or third night that you were in your toddler bed in your room, you got up and somehow managed to set your clock/sound machine so that the alarm went off in the middle of the night. That gave us all a little startle.

You have invented some new words this month, such as "NO-KAY." You say this when you are mad about something or fighting against something that you do not want to do, such as being placed in your high chair.

You still eat next to nothing, but we've had some encouraging reports that you've tried a few foods at daycare. The most impressive of these was spaghetti with marinara sauce. Your teachers insisted that you ate some of it, even though at home you will not touch pasta or anything red.

You "direct traffic" a lot. If you want a person to be at a specific place in the room, you physically move them there. If you want me to go into the kitchen and get you some milk or crackers, you put your hands on my legs and push me along until I get to where you need me to be. You are surprisingly strong. Once I was sitting on the floor trying to play with you, except that you wanted me to move to a different location, so you put your hands under my armpits and tried to pick me up. You're hilarious.

You love hugs and kisses. You are constantly hugging me. I love it. You have always given good hugs, but you are getting even better at hugging. Maybe you are growing and your arms are getting longer or something, I don't know. But you can wrap your arms around me in just the best way. I hope you always love hugging.

We recently discovered that everything at the zoo is free during the first hour that it is open, so on the weekends we have taken you there a lot and you've ridden the carousel and driven around in cars with girls.

Looking forward to what the next month will bring!

Love you always,

Mama

Slumber parties

2011-10-04T22:00:00.001-05:00

So we got the windows replaced in William's room, which is kind of a long story, but let it suffice to say that during the replacement process, we had to move everything out. This meant that his crib had to be taken apart because it will not fit through the door of Will's room while it is assembled. One of us (was it Rob?) had the bright idea that Will would just sleep on his mattress on the floor of our room during this process. We sort of just wanted to see what would happen, I guess. Will is often very fussy when we put him to bed, but being in the crib really limits what he can do about that, and generally in a few minutes he falls asleep. If he was going to sleep on just his mattress, I envisioned that there would be a lot of crying and wandering about the room and eventually he would just join us in our bed, and actually, that is pretty much what has been happening.

When we first got his mattress set up and he noticed it in our room, he was so excited. He ran to the mattress and lay down on it and smiled and said, "Sleep." So far so good. The he stood up and jumped and giggled. Then he used the mattress as a spring board to climb onto our bed. The he lept off the mattress and ran around the room in circles.

We tried to get him excited about the whole idea of sleeping in his very own bed in mommy and daddy's room, and he eventually warmed to the idea again. We read stories and turned off the lights. We rubbed his back and whispered to him. He smiled at us, snuggled up with his blankie and said, "Happy."

Good, good.

Well, he fell out of the bed at least 4 times the first night. Granted, it wasn't far (only like 6 inches off the ground), so he wasn't hurt. More stunned I guess. Each time he found himself on the floor instead of the mattress, he looked around like, "How did I get here?" and climbed back onto his bed.

And he did wander a bit during the night. Every once and a while I would wake up and hear the padding of little feet and then barely see his little shadowed form at our door or elsewhere in the room. It was kind of creepy but okay.

But then at some point during the night, he got tired of the fun new game of sleeping on his mattress and he started bawling and ran around to my side of the bed and crawled in beside me. Still, I was proud of him for doing reasonably well on his first night out of the crib.

Last night we tried it again. He wasn't as surprised, since we'd been through this drill the previous night. He jumped and jumped and ran and ran and got all hot and sweaty again after his bath. It was more of a struggle to get him to stay in his bed. Rob tried to coax him to lie down by lying down himself, and although Will stayed awake, Rob fell asleep. I had meanwhile gone downstairs because I had some real actual work do to. As I was sitting there compiling my lecture on Callitrichine reproductive ecology, all of a sudden Will was standing in front of me, saying, "MULK." He had gotten up, let himself out of the room, and walked downstairs all on his own, all while Rob was sleeping.

I got him his mulk and he was very happy. I made him brush his teeth again and he was even happy about that too. Then I brought him back to our room and he willingly crawled into his bed. He lay down, smiling at me, as I rubbed his back and his head. Then he reached up, touched my face and said, "Happy." I kissed him and told him how sweet he was, and we kept giggling and whispering "Happy" to each other until finally he pointed to my bed and said, "MAMA, BED." So I guess he thought I should go to sleep. By that time it was almost 9:30, and although that Callitrichine reproductive ecology lecture wasn't going to write itself, I decided to call it a night.

I crawled into bed and tried to go to sleep, but William kept getting up and running around the room. Probably about 2am, he just got into bed with us, which was fine, except he insisted on lying the wrong way-- so that his feet were in my ribs.

He was exhausted from all this running around, and he slept in until 8:30 this morning (and even then we had to wake him up).

The weird thing is that when Rob got up this morning, he found pee-pee in William's potty. The most parsimonious explanation is that Will peed either before or after his bath, and we just did not notice it. I actually find that kind of hard to believe though. Will makes quite a big deal of it when he pees-- demanding to be given his sticker and insisting that he does the flush himself. What I kind of think may have happened is that at some point during his nocturnal wanderings, he went into the bathroom, took his diaper off, and peed. This would mean that he put his diaper back on by himself (which is the most implausible part of this whole scenario) because he was wearing a diaper when he woke up, and although it was full there were no leaks.

I don't know. It's a mystery.

I'm not sure what tonight will bring. The windows are replaced, but we just kind of want to go with this thing-- hoping that if we stick it out a few more nights, he will become accustomed to sleeping not in his crib and we can just move him to his toddler bed when we reassemble his room.

We'll see.

Thanks for reading!

Dear William (25 months)

2011-09-12T08:18:00.001-05:00

Dear William,

Today you are 25 months old!! Are you too old for me to write you monthly letters anymore? I don't know. When I started writing them, I didn't really have an endpoint in mind. But I realized recently, things don't change as quickly as they did during those early months, back when I tried to capture every detail. These days, from month to month, a lot of things stay the same!

Well, we'll see how long I can keep this going. It is kind of nice to take a minute to reflect on what has been going on in our lives over the past month, and I'm afraid if I stopped writing the letters, I might not do that as much.

First off, since I last wrote to you, you had your 2nd birthday party. It was a very nice party, including balloons, friends, snacks, and an Elmo cake that your Grandma Nan helped me make!

You have spent the rest of the month playing with all your new toys. The big thing that your dad and I got you was an easel. You seem to love doing art so much. The easel also comes in handy for you to practice your letters, too. You love reading letters. I will write things on the easel and then you spell them out for me. I kind of think you can read.

Oh also, I made you that Elmo shirt you are wearing in the picture. Aren't I talented?! You like to wear that shirt because then all day long you can point to your tummy and say "Mos" (which is your word for Elmo).

You are still cute when you are taking a bath.

You are still cute when you wake up in the mornings!

You are cute all the time!

Much love,

Your Mom xoxo

Love/Hate relationship with kale

2011-09-06T22:20:00.001-05:00

*Warning, discussion of vomit is below. Read at your own discretion*

I have this sort of love hate relationship with kale. For a long time, I loved it, and my go-to meal was inspired by this recipe (basically kale sauteed with garlic and olive oil), except that I would add cumin and coriander to it. Heaven.

Then I got pregnant.

Hyperemesis began on Christmas Eve of 2008 when I was chopping kale to make this very dish. Remember that? I thought I might die. I threw up lots of things. I never threw up kale though, because the very thought of kale disgusted me so much that I couldn't even see it without running out of the room, curling into the fetal position, and rocking back and forth while chanting unintelligible things.

I haven't been able to eat kale since then. That's almost 3 years of no kale. I actually still have a hard time with a lot of green vegetables. Things just don't taste the same to me anymore. I thought it would go away after the baby was born, or after I stopped nursing him, but I am still kind of waiting on some of these things. At any rate. I've tried kale a few times since then, but I've never been able to eat it sauteed wtih garlic and cumin. It wasn't just the taste of it, but the texture too. The only way I could eat it was if I made it into kale chips. Well, the strangest thing happened after my 18 mile training run this weekend-- I was craving sauteed kale. (Who craves kale after an 18 mile training run? That's crazy). So I bought some at the grocery store and last night I made it. Delicious! I ate a ton of it. I was so happy! I think kale is probably the healthiest food on the planet. It makes me feel like I'm going to live forever when I eat it.

Well, unfortunately, I also ate some sauteed mushrooms with my kale dish last night. I only ate a couple because they didn't taste quite right. I'd just bought the mushrooms at the grocery store, they couldn't have gone bad already! Could they?

They had.

Long about 10:30 last night, it hit me. Oh god, those must have been some bad 'shrooms.

I felt awful.

I went and got my grandmother's emesis basin. Yes, emesis basin. For some reason, I inherited it after she died. I guess it was among the items left in her room, and my mother thought maybe I could use it. She was right.

About 11:30, I sat bolt upright in bed, clutching the emesis basin and gagging. Thank god for the emesis basin. I ran to the bathroom.

Let me just say, throwing up kale (sauteed with garlic, cumin and coriander) ranks right up there as one of the most unpleasant things I have ever done. There is probably a reason why bulimics generally do not binge on sauteed kale: it does not come up easily.

(Beware, the description below is gross)

I was kneeling there at the toilet, gagging my heart out, but only a pathetically small amount of kale came up. It was completely clogging my esophgaus; it was in my nose, it was filling up my entire head including my brain. I thought I might choke to death. When I breathed I tasted it. When I swallowed, it felt like I was swallowing over a massive wad of kale (probably because I was). It was disgusting.

I had to revert to an old hyperemesis trick that I used when things weren't coming up easily. I drank an entire glass of water, quickly. I sat there and waited. I was exhausted, I felt terrible. Finally (emesis bowl in hand), I went back to bed and curled up into a shivering ball.

A half an hour later, I sat bolt upright again, gagging into the emesis basin. I ran into the bathroom (again) and barely made it to the porcelain goddess before the kale started coming up. And up, and up. Oh my god, and up. I had eaten a lot of kale, and it all came up, every last bit of it. I stayed in the bathroom for a while and puked 2 or 3 times and then finally felt like I was done. I brushed my teeth and brushed and brushed, but I could not get rid of the awful burning of kale sauteed with garlic and cumin and coriander.

It was no cheese tortellini (throwing that up ought to be outlawed by the Geneva convention), but it is not an experience I would like to repeat. And I probably won't repeat it, given that I doubt I will ever be able to eat kale again. Which is really too bad, considering that I am pretty sure it confers immortality if eaten in appropriately massive quantities. We'll see.

Sorry for being so gross. Thanks for reading.

Happy

2011-09-02T19:02:00.001-05:00

Will just looked at me, smiled, and said, "Happy."

Young Adult

2011-08-31T21:39:00.001-05:00

A few of you have inquired as to the status of The Novel. Ugh. For an update, I must refer you to Amy MeyPfan (a literary genius) who is the only person to have read it. One of the major things I needed to figure out about the novel was to determine its genre. Honestly, I had no idea. Amy provided me with the shock of a lifetime when she informed me that it was "Young Adult."

Seriously.

I had thought there was no way that this book could be Young Adult. Granted, I was aware that it was about young adults, but these young adults occasionally do bad things, so I had assumed that actual young adults (ie, teenagers) should not be reading it. Then Amy pointed me to a list of current Young Adult books on the market, and I was all whoa. Life has definitely changed since Are You There God, It's Me Margaret was controversial. The kinds of trouble that my Young Adults get into seem very, very tame compared to what's out there these days.

It has been very helpful to define this book to a genre, but it has also been problematic. Mainstream publishers (if I even want to go that route, which is a whole 'nother story, and one that will involve a lot of gratiutous swearing) seem to have a smaller word count limit for Young Adult novels. For me, this means I would probably have to cut out about 3-1/2 chapters to even get close to this limit. In addition, a lot of the research I did for this book now seems to be a moot point. Young adults do not care if I have depicted a realistic scenario of how many days you wait after cutting down the pasture to bail hay. Young Adults would probably also find the entire second half of the novel to be boring and uninteresting. I could just cut that whole part out (that would help with the word count limit), except that then the end wouldn't make any sense. The reader would be going, "Wait a minute, who's Shannon?" and the book would suck. Maybe the book sucks anyway, though, I don't know.

If I'm going to move forward with this, I need to make some major structural changes. Major. It is amazingly depressing how un-creative the writing process gets when you even begin to consider publishing. It is like the antithesis of creativity. It makes me want to scream or throw or burn or break something.

All of this would be a lot easier if I were not working full time, caring for a young child, training for my 11th (or is it 12th?) marathon, grocery shopping, making dinner, cleaning up the house, and writing a howler paper for Mt's edited volume. I sleep so little that I feel sick all the time. In fact, I am sick right now. Something's got to give, you know?

The logical thing would be to stop the presses and abandon the novel. I should work on the howler paper in all my free time (ha!) so that I am less stressed when the deadline draws near. Maybe someday when things are more settled down, I could return to my badly-behaving rural teenagers and figure out how to make this novel work.

I should do that, shouldn't I?

There is laundry to fold, lunches to pack, words to rewrite. And I promised myself I would get more than 5 hours of sleep tonight.

Thanks for reading.

2^5

2011-08-14T22:08:00.001-05:00

Well, I am 2^5 old today, or more plainly spoken: 32. Wait, is that right? I was born in 1979. You do the math.

For the last several years, my birthdays have become increasingly chaotic. It has not always been of my choosing. Last year, most likely in tears, I recall thinking that if I lived to see 32, all I wanted was for NOTHING happen on my birthday.

Let's see if I can recount some of the craziness of the past several years:

25th birthday, 2004: On a camping trip in Appalachia with Rob. We may be smiling in the pictures, but we had just had our 2nd fight ever.

26th birthday, 2005: In Managua waiting to fly home and vowing never to return to Nicaragua again.

27th birthday, 2006: Having returned to Nicaragua, I was in a hospital in Moyogalpa that had no toilet paper. Someone down the hall was either giving birth or having her leg amputated without anesthesia. I was extremely ill, but Rob was the one who was being treated.

28th birthday, 2007: Moved into our house in Urbana, having just left Eduardo in Nicaragua. I was supposed to be all happy to be back in the US, I guess, but instead it kind of felt like I'd been forced to reach into my chest cavity, extract my heart, and throw it to the sharks in Lake Nicaragua.

29th birthday 2008: On a boat in Lake Nicaragua, looking for Eduardo.

30th birthday, 2009: Had given birth to my one and only child 2 days prior. Will wouldn't stop crying, ever, not even for a second. An asshole pediatrician at the hospital told me I was starving Will to death by trying to breastfeed him and that I would have to give him formula because everybody on the planet would die if he lost any more weight. I have never met anyone more insulting, ignorant, and arrogant than that worthless sack of shit. He actually referred to the nurses on staff as "the girls" and he told me that giving Will formula wouldhelp my milk come in. Luckily I was smart enough not to listen to him, but even so, my 30th birthday was the worst day of my entire life.

31st birthday, 2010: Moved to St. Louis with approximately 3 weeks notice. Started a new job and put my son in daycare for the first time ever (prior to this we'd never been apart for more than a few hours). We didn't have a place to live yet so we stayed in a hotel for 2 weeks. Also, my grandmother was dying and passed away just before my first day of my new job. My family held off the funeral till the weekend (because I could not take any time off of work at that point), so that I could come home and give the eulogy.

Well, I guess my 32nd birthday is about to draw to a close and thankfully there has been no tragic event. I got to go on a long run this morning, and afterwards, Rob and I biked over to a park with Will to meet some friends. Will enjoyed the playground, and I had a chance to chat with some of my favorite yoga moms (one who now lives in St. Louis, and another who had come down to visit). Although I have been feeling ridiculously awful for the past several days (out of control exhaustion), I got a second wind after a 20 minute power nap this afternoon. Then this evening, we hung out with some neighbors until Will threw a fit and we had to take him home. He wouldn't eat dinner (as per usual), but I soothed myself by having a piece of leftover birthday cake from his party yesterday. I got lots of phone calls, emails, cards, texts, tweets, and Facebook messages from everybody wishing me a happy birthday. It was really nice!

Tomorrow I resume my career-- going back to work full time after about 6 weeks off this summer. A little stressed out by that. A lot stressed out by that. I still have to write the howler paper for Mt's edited volume, and I don't know when I am going to find the time to do that. Hoping all goes well.

Dear William (24 months)

2011-08-12T12:49:00.000-05:00

Dear William,

Today you are TWO YEARS OLD!!

Happy birthday to you!

Do you remember when you were a tiny little baby, and all you could do was cry and eat and sleep? You don't? Well I do! It is hard to believe that two whole years have passed since then. Where has the time gone?

You began this month with a trip to the Pacific Northwest to celebrate your ma and pa's 10 year wedding anniversary.

When we came back home, you and I had a lot more fun around St. Louis. We even went to the zoo, where you rode the zoo train. You really liked that.

I took you on the carousel, too. At first you were bored while we were waiting for it to start up. But once we got moving, you loved it. You threw a huge fit when it was time to get off though. I told you we would ride it again another day, but I guess you didn't think that was soon enough.

We took the metro to downtown to City Gardens with some friends, and you splashed around in the fountains.

You have also been enjoying lots of pool time in your kiddie pool that we set up in the back yard, and you've enjoyed a few more excursions to the playground.

You've been learning a lot this month too. You love reciting the letters of the alphabet, reading your Dr. Suess alphabet book, or doing anything that has to do with letters. You recognize letters when you see them, too. When we were at the grocery store and you were sitting in the cart, you pointed up and said "A! B!" I looked behind me, and we were in the aisles that were labelled A and B! I was very proud of you for recognizing the letters and saying them out loud.

Another big milestone this month is that you USED THE POTTY for the first time ever. You've used it a total of 6 times this month. Sometimes you are very excited to use your potty, but other times you could care less. I try to keep reminding you that you will get to have some chocolate chips and a sticker if you use the potty, but you are often preoccupied by other things, such as reading your alphabet book and watching Dora on the iPad.

You've continued to have a really tough time with the two days per week that you go to daycare. You do not like your new classroom (for 2-3 year olds) very much, I guess. You miss your old teacher. You cry and cry and cry and cry. It breaks my heart. You start crying at night when you see me lay out your school clothes and you realize that is where you are going the next day. You are very clingy to me in the mornings and you don't want to put on your shoes or go outside because you know where you will end up. You refuse to get in your stroller or carseat, and when we finally manage to make it there, you start sobbing your heart out once we are in the door. You hold onto my legs because you don't want me to leave you. I don't know why you don't like it there anymore. You used to love daycare so much. The whole thing is just breaking my heart. I am very nervous about starting back at work full time and having you go to daycare every day of the week. I'm currently working on writing a novel that hopefully is so good we become millionaires and then your dad and I can quit our jobs and just stay at home and play with you all day. Wish me luck with that.

Well, William, I need to go get ready for your party. Be sure to check back on the blog for some pictures of it later!

Love always, Momma

Ms. Kenna

2011-08-08T21:53:00.001-05:00

Last week my sister gave birth to a healthy and beautiful baby girl. I am so happy for her that whenever I stop to think about it, I spontaneously burst into tears. Having a baby is always a thing of great emotion, but my sister has been through more than anyone ought to have to go through for her children.

Thanks for reading.

10 years in review

2011-07-27T15:32:00.001-05:00

As some of you may know, Rob and I celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary on July 14th. I guess that's something, I don't know. We've never made a big deal about stuff like that.

It just so happened that Rob's friends were planning to get married in Seattle the same weekend as our anniversary, and it just so happened that Rob and I had gone to the Pacific Northwest for our honeymoon 10 years ago. It also just so happened that we finally sold our Urbana house, and although we have suffered huge losses, there is at least a light at the end of the tunnel now. I was hesitant to make the trip on account of the expense it would involve, but Rob did not share my concerns and he went ahead and bought plane tickets. More than that, Rob's friends asked him to play guitar in their wedding ceremony, and he agreed. We left the day after we closed on our Urbana house (July 12th).

We flew to Seattle and the next morning (July 13th) left for Port Angeles, WA, which was our gateway to Olympic National Park. We attempted to hike Hurricane Ridge, as we did 10 years ago, but it was a lot more difficult with a 2-year old whose favorite activity is kicking, screaming, and throwing himself on the ground, and who generally refuses to ride in the Ergo carrier anymore. Oh, and also, there was snow.

The next day (July 14th) we went to the Hoh Rainforest, which has got to be one of the coolest places on earth. According to the website, Hoh gets approximately 3,556 mm of rain per year-- just for comparison, the forest where I did my dissertation research gets approximately 1,500 mm. It's just cool. Will did about as well as could be expected, which is to say, we had about 5 whole minutes of hiking in the rainforest before he began having a temper tantrum.

Ferns are awesome

After a truncated hike in the rainforest, Will got to rest in the car as we drove to First Beach. It was freezing cold (and raining), so we only stayed for a few minutes, but enough apparently, for the requisite photo of Melissa running into the ocean.

There was perhaps some more nap time for Will in the car as we headed back towards the hotel and stopped off at Lake Crescent, which ended up being one of my favorite places (both this time and 10 years ago).

We did a short hike to Marymere Falls, and Will enjoyed this. He actually hiked most of the way (about 1.5 miles round trip, I think?) on his own.

We ended up finding the same exact tree that I stopped off to hug back in 2001, and Rob recreated the photo. Will joined me this time.

Hugging the tree in 2001

Hugging the tree in 2011.

The irony of this is, though, that as I looked up through the towering foliage to see it's top, I realized that it was a dead tree. I don't know if it was 10 years ago or not. Kind of makes the whole thing feel more bitter than sweet, I guess.

When Will got tired, he rode on Rob's shoulders or I carried him:

And he enjoyed seeing the waterfall at the end of the hike. His face lit up and he said "WOW!" and then "WHOA!"

The next day (July 15th) we went to the Elwah River Valley, which was amazing. Maybe when Will is like 12 years old, we can go back and spend the whole week there, hiking around and camping.

We did a short hike at Elwah, which was more rugged than any other hike we had attempted with Will. That is to say, we had to cross a stream on a log.

It would have been less nerve-wracking for me if Will had conceded to ride in his Ergo or be carried, but he insisted on crossing the stream while riding on Rob's shoulders. This remained his chosen mode of transportation for the duration of the trip.

That afternoon, we took a ferry back to Seattle. Will slept the whole time and I didn't even throw up. We went to the wedding rehearsal; Rob rehearsed (recall that he was playing guitar in the wedding) and Will and I ran around in the freezing cold Puget Sound. That night, Rob's mom flew into Seattle, and Rob went to go pick her up at the airport.

The next morning (Saturday, July 16th) it was raining, so we opted to go to the Seattle Aquarium--an indoor activity. I couldn't help but morosely recall when Rob and I went there on our honeymoon 10 years ago, and I formally vowed never to have children as I saw a woman trying to get her bratty little child to look at a hermit crab by saying, "LOOK, GABEY, WOUDLN'T THAT CRAB TASTE GOOD?"

That night, Will stayed at the hotel with Rob's mom, while Rob and I went to a Seattle Mariner's game with Rob's friends who were getting married. It was my first baseball game, ever. I had a $7.50 beer, and that definitely helped me get though it. And then, apparently, my sister in law's baseball fantasy boyfriend hit 2 homeruns. Bravo.

The next morning (Sunday, July 17th), we went to the Space Needle. It was probably cool, I guess, but not worth the exorbitant admission fee, particularly when you have a 2 year old with a 5 minute attention span, and you arrive there 5 minutes before his nap time. But whatever. It brought back memories from when I watched the entire Frasier series while I nursed Will during the first several months of his life.

Melissa wanted to make sure to keep her eyes open.

Afterwards, we happened upon the "Bite of Seattle," and Will got to try some Mango lemonade.

Then it was time to head back and get ready for Erin and Wyatt's wedding. We tried to get Will to take a nap in the hotel room and Rob went into the bathroom to practice his guitar. Endearing.

The wedding was seriously the most awesome wedding I have ever been to. And I'm not just saying that because Rob was playing his guitar in it. It was really a great wedding.

Rob playing Power of Two by the Indigo Girls as the family was being seated.

The day after the wedding (Monday, July 18), we went to Mt. Rainier, which was cool.

We did a couple of small hikes to see some big trees and another waterfall for Will.

Then it was time to come home. Will has been having a tough time readjusting, I don't know if he is still jet-lagged or what. He's been having some trouble sleeping and then on several mornings he has slept in until 8:30 or even 9:00. He wants no part at all of daycare. He still goes on Mondays and Wednesdays (so that in theory, I can work on my article for the Howler Monkey volume. In practice, I have barely even started it), and he has since moved into the 2-year old room. He used to love going to daycare, and on Saturdays and Sundays he would stand at the door with his shoes and hat, getting agitated and asking for "Mo" (his teacher). Now he doesn't want to go at all. I have to drag him outside kicking and screaming and then he beats on the door saying "Inside! Inside!" When we get there, he just cries and cries and says "No no no no!" And of course he doesn't eat anything the whole day. It is breaking my heart. I hope things get better when I'm back at work full time and he is on more of a consistent schedule.

Anyway, I am exhausted at the moment because Will slept in our bed last night and he totally hogged my side, so I was left clinging to the edge. Plus he intermittently kicked me in the ribs all night long. Then for some reason I didn't have coffee today and I am kind of feeling like I might pass out soon. Guess I'd better end this then. Thanks for reading.

Dear William (23 months)

2011-07-12T13:15:00.001-05:00

Dear William,

This month, you and I have been spending a lot of time together! I am on "summer break" from work, so you and I get to hang out a lot. You are still going to "play school" on Mondays and Wednesdays, but the rest of the days of the week it is just you and me! You can be a very demanding boss, but you make up for it by giving me really great kisses or randomly running over to me and knocking me over with the force of your hugs.

You are an expert at naming body parts. You love to tell me where your ears, eyes, nose, hair, knees, belly, elbows, and teeth, and mouth are. You have a little doll baby and you like to say, "NOSE" and point to the baby's nose. Or eyes. Or whatever.

Did I mention... you still give very good kisses! The best kisses ever! I love them! You like to kiss mommy and daddy, and you like to kiss your toys. Sometimes you bring a toy over for me to kiss for you. When you fell and scraped your knee earlier this month, I kissed your boo-boo, and then you puckered up your lips 'cause you wanted a face kiss too. Cute.

You have become a great imitator. If I am doing something silly, like walking in a funny way, you find that hilarious and you do the same thing. If I say a word, you will often repeat it, or at least try to. Near the end of June, your dad and I were counting out loud and you were repeating the numbers. Sort of. Last night I was scolding you for not minding me and I looked at you very sternly with my hand on my hip. You gave me the exact same look, which was hilarious.

This month your friend E. moved to St. Louis! You knew him before you were even born because mommy was in yoga class with his mommy. We are so lucky that E.'s family moved here and that they live so close. We can walk to his house! He has such cool toys. And he is really good about sharing! He has a car that you can get in and drive. You did both of these things while we were there playing. E. pushed you in the car-- that was so nice of him! Then you ate some of his snacks (without even asking!) and you ran around his house opening and closing doors like you owned the place. You cried when it was time to leave, but I told you we would play with E. lots more in the days ahead.

We went to PrideFest STL this month. Unfortunately, you were still napping during the big parade, but we got there later in the afternoon and had time to enjoy ourselves. You got to see lots of bright colors and hear music. Everybody there was so happy. You were happy too. Some people had their dogs with them and you liked to look at the dogs and say, "DOG. WOOO WOOO." A lady gave you a firefighter helmet (which was super nice but also I thought kind of odd because isn't that just reinforcing the gender stereotype that little boys want to grow up to be firefighters? But whatever) and a bracelet, which you wore for a while and then got tired of it so you put it on me.

You are continuing to enjoy going to playgrounds. We have found a new playground at Lewis Park, and I really like that one a lot because it is smaller and easier for me to keep track of you. On Tuesday nights sometimes we go to Carondelet Park to watch your dad in a bike race. Actually, you have no interest in watching him. You spend most of the whole time trying to walk in the street and screaming at me because I won't let you. It is kind of awful. Once I cried. I don't know why you want to walk in the street so badly. The other small children there just stand by their mothers and watch the bikes. It is so frustrating because you won't do that. The second week we went there, we found a giant playground. You loved it. It was super crowded though. You found a suspension bridge and you ran back and forth across it for like 1/2 an hour. When it was time to go meet your dad, you screamed at me and kicked me and punched me in the throat all the way. I'm not sure if we'll be going back.

You ran your first race this month. It was a quarter mile race, which was part of the big Macklind Mile festival on the 4th of July. You did really well. You held onto mommy or daddy's hand and kept a nice and steady pace and ran the whole time. Most of the kids were bigger than you but you didn't let that bother you. You just powered through. There was one little kid who was probably your age or younger, and he was having a really tough time with it. His parents had to keep picking him up and carrying him, or when they set him down he cried and ran the wrong way. But you had a big smile on your face and ran in the right direction the whole time. I was so proud of you. There were tons of people on the sidelines of the race course all cheering for YOU! They were ringing cowbells and clapping their hands and saying "You can do it!" and "Great job!" Your daddy took the iPhone to video you as you crossed the finish line, and mommy held your hand. We ran cross the finish together and everyone was clapping for you and I was crying I was so happy! A lady at the finishing line gave you a green ribbon that said PARTICIPANT. You were great!

You threw a huge fit after the race though, one that included throwing yourself down in the middle of a busy street and kicking and screaming. It was very dangerous. I have no idea why you were so mad. You just get that way sometimes. It was so frustrating. I thought I would lose my mind. When we finally got back tot he car and I was putting you in your car seat, you grabbed my iPhone and DELETED the video of you crossing the finish line. I was so upset I couldn't talk for over an hour. Your father spent the rest of the day and night trying to recover the deleted video, but he wasn't able to. That was some sad times. We shan't speak of it again.

You survived your first bike crash this month. It was terrifying, but mainly only for me. The entire family unit was riding from our place to the Missouri Botanical Gardens on a Saturday morning. You were in the bike trailer hooked to your dad's bike, and I was riding behind you both on Iris 2. We were on the bike path in Forest Park and there was a lot of congestion, and the next thing I knew, the trailer was on its side. I said some very horrible words and jumped off my bike while it was still moving and somehow threw it into the grass. You were totally fine, just a bit shaken up from the excitement. There was some damage to the trailer that your dad had to spend some time fixing, but eventually we were on our way again. I maintain that the bike path at Forest Park is the least safe place to ride a bike in St. Louis, honest to God.

You had visits from both of your grandparents this month. Grandma and Grandpa Scho brought you your own Lucky Red Hat. You love it, except sometimes you hate it. Which is the way you feel about most things. Your Grandma Nan cut your hair for you again!

Other things you have done this month include: enjoying playing with bubbles and going to a neighbor's first birthday party. You also have started to really enjoy drinking juice, which you call JOOOOOOOSE, and you ask for it when you want it. If I try to give you milk when you want juice, you are very upset. And vice versa. You are definitely making your preferences known, but it is often a very complicated guessing game that relies a lot your mother's intuition.

We finished off your 23rd month with a trip to Indianapolis to visit your friends Mr. E and Miss C. You also got to see your little friend A. They are all great! Poor dear Mr. E wasn't feeling good so he couldn't play too much, but you had such a blast playing with Miss C. It is hard to believe she is 8 years old now, and it's too bad she lives 2 states away because she would be such a great babysitter.

After we returned from Indianapolis, you went back to play-school and you graduated to the 2-year old room. I guess in there, you take your own lunch plate over to the sink when you are done with it. Also, you get to play with markers. You seem to like it so far.

We are kicking off your 24th month TODAY by flying to Seattle. Did you know that your mom and pop have been married for TEN WHOLE YEARS? We spent our honeymoon in the Pacific Northwest, and we decided to celebrate our 10th anniversary by going back there and bringing YOU with us. I'm sure there will be many stories and pictures to come.

Here are some pictures of you this month:

Love always,

Your mom

Now what?

2011-06-29T22:09:00.001-05:00

Well, I finished The Novel. At least a draft of it. I mean, there is a lot of editing I need to do, but for the most part it is all there.

Now what?

I really have no idea what to do next. I know nothing about the publishing industry. In all honesty, I don't even know if I want it published. My only thought, all along, was that when I was finished I would send it to Amy to have her read it. Because she is the only person in the whole world who will be able to tell me if it is okay. But I haven't even been able to do that yet.

It feels so totally weird to be done with it. I've been developing this story and these characters since the spring of 2001. It's not like I've thought about it every day since then, but I have thought about it a lot. Especially before I would fall asleep at night, I'd play it through my mind over and over again. Now that it's written, I'm kind of at a loss. What do I have to think about before I fall asleep? The things I was trying to avoid thinking about when I started writing this in the first place, I guess.

I am just so exhausted. I started writing sometime in January, and honestly, every single day and night since then, I have worked on it in any spare moment I've had. For the most part, it felt like I was losing my mind. Aside from giving birth, it is the most intense thing I have ever done. It's not like I ever had any other opportunity in my life to write this, but in a way, I think I was also putting it off all these years because I knew it wasn't going to be easy. I had to completely enmesh myself in world that was difficult and often horrifying, and the only way I saw to get out of it was to just push myself to finish.

And the end result is... what? I wasn't qualified to write this thing. It isn't about me, or really anything that I've ever experienced. I did a lot of research to try to make it as realistic as possible and to try to really put myself in the shoes of the character whose story I am telling. But really, I don't know the first thing about any of this stuff. I could have gotten it all wrong. When I'm reading it over, I get the feeling that it is mediocre, half-baked, and overly melodramatic. I have a friend who is a real writer, and I would be horrified at the thought of her ever reading it. It is not densely symbolic. It is not artistic or literary. It may have an overarching message, but I doubt it would do much to make the world a better place. When all is said and done, it is really just a story about a girl. Probably not even that good of story. I could send it to a hundred publishers and it would get rejected. Or if someone actually did publish it, it would be bound to get a lot of criticism, and I don't think I could handle that. Seriously, reading or hearing negative comments about this thing that I've sunk so of my life into might just ruin me. Writing The Novel was time that I could have spent with my son.

So, I don't know what to do. In one sense, it is a relief to be done. But in another sense, it is just so disorienting.

Tomorrow, or Friday maybe, I will print it out and send it to Amy.

Thanks for reading.