Connecticut Mom

Sorry I mailed your card late but I didn't have your address until you sent me one ...

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 00:07:00 +0000

Or some other lame-ass excuse .... (omg, CT Mom, did you just use the a-- word? Yes I did ... it's been a long 3 days).

And so I share our three Christmases with you ... enjoy!

Christmas # 1 - our tree with the gifts I wrapped, waiting for Santa to fill in the gaps:

Christmas #2 - Grammy's tree (at my mother-in-law's house):

Christmas #3 - the loot waiting to be opened at our house, courtesy of 3 sisters and me and my parents, for 2 nieces, 4 nephews, and my 2 girls:

So glad I have the week off ...

So are the dogs ....

Have a good week!

Murphy's law and holiday concerts

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 03:25:00 +0000

The month is finally winding down to Christmas. My job has been crazy busy, and it was all I could do to keep up. And then there are all the school activities, including the 4th grade Christmas - sorry, holiday - concert.

My best friend and I always joke about how different we are when it comes to attending our kids' events. She is the mom who shows up at least an hour early, and gets the very best seat in the front row, always snapping those precious close-up pictures and recording those special Kodak moments. On the other hand, I'm the mom who usually comes flying into the auditorium with thirty seconds to spare, cursing under my breath as I wind up standing or sitting in the very back, with pictures that are either dark, out of focus, or catch my girls making some type of weird face. Not my most stellar parenting moments.

This year, I promised myself that it would be different. This is Sweet Pea's last year in elementary school, and our last holiday concert ever in this school. In years past, the annual concert was held at the high school auditorium, with the kids up on stage, comfy seats, and at least an outside chance that I could run up the aisle and snap a picture without getting in someone's way. I told myself, this was the year I would get there early and snag a good seat, relaxed and ready, camera in hand, to enjoy watching my sweet daughter sing yet another medley of Frosty, Jingle Bells, and Let It Snow.

But not this year.

This year, the concert was not at the high school, with the stage and the comfy seats. Nope. This year, the concert was in the elementary school gym, with the kids on risers and the parents on cold metal chairs. Ok, I could handle this. I happened to be at school the day of rehearsal, and saw where Sweet Pea would be standing. I strategically figured out where I would need to sit to get the best view and planned out how early to arrive so as to score said seat. Despite the change of venue setback, I still saw my opportunity for parenting bliss.

Flash ahead to that night. Sweet Pea is ready in plenty of time. She's dressed in a cute sparkly sweater dress, tights and festive shoes. Her hair is pulled back in red barrettes. She is the epitome of a chorus star. All the while, I'm thinking of the pictures would be Facebook posting perfection ....

We pull into the school 30 minutes before she is scheduled to be there. Only a few cars in the parking lot. So far, so good ... I'm almost giddy as we walk into the school. Finally, this year, I'm going to be the parent who gets there with plenty of time!

Then we walked into the gym.

One half of the right section is already filled. Including the exact place where I wanted to sit. And there are only 4 other kids there, including my daughter. Seriously?

Sigh. Ok, Plan B.

My daughters have both inherited my petite stature. Yep, they're short. Which means that this year, as always, Sweet Pea is in the front row. I quickly scan the room, and spot seats that would put us on the aisle, with a clear view of where she's standing. Perfect! I save seats for CT Dad, Princess and my mother-in-law, and relax in the knowledge that while I may not have the exact seating placement I wanted, with enough zoom, I can still get those perfect pictures while watching my daughter sing her little heart out.

The kids file in. There she is, in the front row. Clear view. She spots me and waves. I smile and give her a thumbs up. I turn on my camera, and hold my breath in anticipation. The music teacher comes in, sets up his music stand, turns around ....

And blocks her completely.

I got pictures of her elbow and the music teacher's back.

Happy Holidays.

Giving thanks ...

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 11:00:00 +0000

This year it feels like Thanksgiving popped up the day after Halloween. For some reason, I feel like the months are just racing by, and soon we'll be decking the halls and digging out from yet another snowstorm.

I've been thinking a lot about this year, and what I'm thankful for, and what I can really do without. There are things that are going on with my family that I unfortunately can't share on my blog, in order to respect their privacy. Sometimes I wish I could just unload it all here, and read your supportive comments, and know that this, too, shall pass. And this. And this.

Even so, I have my health, a good job, and a loving family. I have my friends, both old and new, virtual and in real life. I have my music, and all that comes with it.

I have life. A good, full life. And I am most grateful for that.

Enjoy the day, take a moment to give thanks for what is good, and let go of what may not be working. For that one second.

Take the moment and drink it in.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Nine

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 11:00:00 +0000

Sweet Pea,

How did a year go by so fast? Today you are nine. A fourth grader. Your last year in elementary school.

A year that will go by so quickly. A year of endings and beginnings.

I am starting to see glimpses of who you will be. Your sweetness. Your independence. How you don't need to hold my hand all the time when we cross the street. Yet you still come to me at bedtime, asking if I can read to you.

Which I am happy to do. And my heart spills over every time you ask.

There are days when I ask you not to grow up. To stay as you are. But that isn't fair for me to ask. Just as your sister is breaking new ground, testing new boundaries, I hold on to your younger years, because I know that when you move on, we won't see those days again.

A year of firsts and lasts. Your last year in elementary school. We just had your last Harvest Parade and party. Soon, it will be your last holiday party, your last Special Persons Day concert, your last day of school. But these are firsts for you. And that's what we celebrate.

So each morning, I will spend that hour, just us, waking you, helping you with your breakfast, combing your hair, watching you play with the dogs before the bus comes. Carefree, light-hearted, laughing and giggling. Pure joy. And celebrate that day with you.

Enjoy being nine. I love the girl you are, and the girl you are becoming. Be sweet, be free.

And please pick up your clothes and put them in the hamper. Because my hope is that's the last time I'll have to ask you.

I love you - happy birthday!

Love,
Mom

I can scratch that off my bucket list

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 23:26:00 +0000

I can't believe I'm actually writing this ...

Today I participated in my first riding show. Ever.

Every six months our barn holds a schooling show (not rated, just for the students at the barn). I never had intentions of showing when I started lessons in June. As the fall school show drew closer, I wasn't planning on showing. I just didn't think I was advanced enough (read: I really didn't want to embarrass or humiliate myself in front of an audience). Seriously. I ride for fun, and really didn't want the pressure. I'll leave that up to the girls, and just enjoy the show day at the barn.

I blame the instructors.

Well, one instructor, Lucy. She was helping at a rated home show at the barn last week, and she asked if I was showing. Of course, I said no. She then told me that she had two adult beginners in my class. I asked if either of them rode Patty (my favorite horse). And neither one did. That clinched it for me: 1) If I was going to be humiliated, at least I wouldn't be out there all by myself, and 2) I could ride Patty, who I love.

Friday I had one more lesson, and then I went out and did the most important thing any rider does right before a show. I made sure I had an outfit. Yup, show jacket and collared blouse, to go along with my riding breeches, boots and half-chaps. If I was going to do this, at least I made sure I looked good.

Today was show day. Both my girls rode earlier in the day, and took firsts and champion in their classes. Later in the afternoon, it was my turn. My horse wasn't ready, so I didn't get the chance to at least take a lap or two around the ring and work off my nerves before judging started. I mounted Patty, my instructor Stephanie fixed my irons, gave me a pat, and off I went.

I was nervous. I felt like I was all over the place. The judge called for us to walk, then posting trot. Ok, I can handle that. Then she said sitting trot, which I never do. I shot a panicked look to Stephanie, who laughed and said, "Do what you used to do before you learned to post." Um, ok. So I just bounced along until the judge told us to stop. Then we turned around and did it in the other direction. Finally they called us to the center of the ring for our results.

I came in third.

The judge gave me some tips for the next class, and I walked out of the ring on Patty, to wait. But by this time, my nerves were gone. I started to enjoy the experience, and my next class went much better. Until we were posting and the judge asked for a half-seat. Another panicked look, another reassuring comment from Stephanie, and I made it through. We turned around, did it again, and went back to the center of the ring for results.

I was hoping I'd improved enough to make second. Nope, third. But I did get reserve champion, which is a very pretty big yellow and red ribbon. Maybe I got it on pity points, but hey, I'll take it.

So now I'm home. I hung up my ribbons in my office. Not bad after barely a dozen lessons. I'm happy. One more thing to scratch off the bucket list.

Sorry for the grainy picture - 12 year old photographer :-)

I think I'm in love ....

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 23:36:00 +0000

I've seen them in the stores. I've seen folks use them on TV, with what appeared to be delicious results. I kept telling myself, "You don't need it. You can make do with what you have." For years, I've tried, with mediocre results at best.

Until the day I was on the treadmill watching TV at the gym, and I saw it again. Shiny, hot, sizzling. I watched as Paula Deen put together another easy and delicious meal. That's when I made up my mind: I need a better fry pan.

Sounds silly? You must understand - I've tried to make decent meals for years. On occasion, I'll get it right, but most times I wind up frustrated and ordering a pizza. And there was the time I was frying up chicken for chicken parmesan, set off our fire alarm, and had to explain to the volunteer fire department that I wasn't burning the house down, just trying to put dinner on the table. Embarrassing to say the least.

It came down to this: like any other job, without the proper tools, you can't get the results. So I took a deep breath and walked through the doors into the chef's shopping mecca, Williams Sonoma. There, I cried on the saleswoman's shoulder - the failed attempts, the frustration, the humiliation, the family that won't eat (can you blame them?).

And like my fairy godmother, she led me to a wall of shiny cookware, the silver blinding me, winking in the artificial light, beckoning. She placed a fry pan into my hand, and I was sold. Culinary ideas raced through my imagination - the perfect meals I would make! The easy clean up! My family gathered around the dinner table, the smiles, the joy.

I put down my credit card and walked out with a 4 qt All-Clad sauce pan with spatter screen and lid. I drove home, still giddy with the possibilities.

Tonight, I fried up some perfect chicken breast fillets, crispy outside, perfectly done inside. We had the chicken with green beans, and twice baked potatoes (ok, from Omaha Steaks - let's not get too crazy here). My family ate every bite (almost - the girls aren't big green bean fans), and when I asked them if I should make this meal again, I got a resounding, "Yes!"

I guess culinary dreams do come true!

Sick day

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 13:17:00 +0000

I'm not good at taking sick days since I started working from home. When I used to commute every day, it was easier to take a sick day - if I woke up and didn't feel well, I'd call in. I'm not saying that I'd stay home at the littlest sniffle. Instead, I would get up, try to get going, debate debate debate until I'd finally throw in the towel and take a sick day.

Now, even when I'm sick, I work. I figure that since I'll be sitting around in my pajamas anyway, I might as well pull out the laptop and get something done. In a way, it helps my stress level, because I don't fall behind in what I'm trying to accomplish for the week. But I'm not doing myself any favors because I'm not truly resting. Even after my surgery last February, I went back to work a few days earlier than planned, rationalizing that I was resting while I worked, but I really wasn't.

Today I woke up with a headache, nausea and a low grade fever. I need to sleep, to rest, to take care of myself. So after this blog post, I am going to take a nap. No laundry. No checking email. Just really bad daytime TV, a snack, and generally doing nothing. A true sick day.

Zzzzz ....

Forty five

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 12:55:00 +0000

12.

13.

45.

Two milestone birthdays and a wedding anniversary. I'll let you figure out which number belongs to Princess and which one belongs to me. CT Dad had a birthday, too, and we'll be doing a milestone celebration next year for him. As for my age, I have to admit I'm struggling a bit. Forty five. Forty five. It just sounds so - old.

I've had other major milestone birthdays, when life events happened to coincide with birthday ending in "0". When I turned 30, my parents sold my childhood home. On my 40th birthday, I had gone back to work after taking a year off to be home with the girls, a re-inventing of myself and what my life meant. But I never looked at my age and thought, "Old."

For some reason, this birthday bugs me a bit. I don't feel 45. I don't look 45 (thanks to good moisturizer and Miss Clairol). I still feel 18. With perhaps a bit more common sense and driving a better car (ok, I'm driving a Honda CR-V, nothing flashy, but back then I had a '78 Plymouth Volare. 'Nuf said there).

Forty five is maturity. Forty five is five years short of being eligible for AARP membership. Forty five is mid-life (longevity runs in my family - my grandparents lived well into their nineties). Forty five means my term life rates are going up. Forty five means I can't check off the "35-44" age bracket when I'm filling out a survey.

But in other respects, forty five is considered young. As in, "Did you read that obituary? Forty five. She was so young." Or when you read about someone taking over a company and you find out she's only forty five.

Today I'm forty five. I'm older. I'm still young. I'm healthy, with a full life and a wonderful family. So I'll celebrate by taking the day off, going shopping, having lunch with friends and a fancy dinner tonight with CT Dad and my beautiful girls.

Tonight I'm going to blow out the candles on my cake, smile, and be grateful for one more day, one more year. Forty five. Wow.

I'll let you know how I did when I turn forty six.

I wasn't prepared for this ...

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 01:46:00 +0000

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, right?

But this I wasn't prepared for. I heard rumors, heard hints of it on the news. But I was in denial.

Not today. I'm not ready. It's not time. It's just so .... wrong.

What am I talking about?

Not the flu, swine or otherwise. Not puberty. Not menopause. Not reruns already when the fall TV season has just started.

No. Worse.

This:

SNOW*. In October.

It just sucks. Instead of lemonade, I guess I'll have to make a lemon slush. Oh wait - my mother always warned me not to eat yellow snow.

*I tried to get pictures but the snow didn't stick, so click on the link to see how the rest of Connecticut complained about - er, enjoyed - the surprise change in the weather.

Twelve? Really??

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 11:48:00 +0000

Dear Princess -

Twelve? When did that happen?

When did you become so independent, so self-reliant?

Me: I can give you a ride to school today.

You: No, Mom, that's ok. I like the bus. Bye! (running out the door in the early morning light, ready to start another day)

All the cliches run through my mind - you're blossoming into a young woman, slowly breaking away. Needing me less. And needing me more.

Thursday, when I picked you up from choir practice, you started to tell me about your day, and half-way through, burst into tears. We spent the afternoon talking, and ended by my hugging you, wiping your tears and seeing your smile finally break through.

You are the same girl that told me earlier in the week, after yet another verbal exchange when I reminded you again to be respectful: "I've been respectful for 11 years and I've reached my breaking point!"

:: Sigh ::

I love you, honey. Thank you for teaching me how to let go a bit more and still be here for you. Even when you've reached your breaking point.

Happy birthday, Princess - let's go pick up your friends and go to the movies!

Love,
Mom

Guest Post: Raising awareness of juvenile myositis - for the loves of his life, his daughter and his wife

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 04:01:00 +0000

Kevin of Always Home and Uncool asked me to post this as part of his effort to raise awareness in the blogosphere of juvenile myositis, a rare autoimmune disease his daughter was diagnosed with on this day seven years ago. The day also happens to be his wife's birthday.

Our pediatrician admitted it early on.

The rash on our 2-year-old daughter's cheeks, joints and legs was something he'd never seen before.

The next doctor wouldn't admit to not knowing.

He rattled off the names of several skins conditions -- none of them seemingly worth his time or bedside manner -- then quickly prescribed antibiotics and showed us the door.

The third doctor admitted she didn't know much.

The biopsy of the chunk of skin she had removed from our daughter's knee showed signs of an "allergic reaction" even though we had ruled out every allergy source -- obvious and otherwise -- that we could.

The fourth doctor had barely closed the door behind her when, looking at the limp blonde cherub in my lap, she admitted she had seen this before. At least one too many times before.

She brought in a gaggle of med students. She pointed out each of the physical symptoms in our daughter:

The rash across her face and temples resembling the silhouette of a butterfly.

The purple-brown spots and smears, called heliotrope, on her eyelids.

The reddish alligator-like skin, known as Gottron papules, covering the knuckles of her hands.

The onset of crippling muscle weakness in her legs and upper body.

She then had an assistant bring in a handful of pages photocopied from an old medical textbook. She handed them to my wife, whose birthday happened to be that day.

This was her gift -- a diagnosis for her little girl.

That was seven years ago -- Oct. 2, 2002 -- the day our daughter was found to have juvenile dermatomyositis, one of a family of rare autoimmune diseases that can have debilitating and even fatal consequences when not treated quickly and effectively.

Our daughter's first year with the disease consisted of surgical procedures, intravenous infusions, staph infections, pulmonary treatments and worry. Her muscles were too weak for her to walk or swallow solid food for several months. When not in the hospital, she sat on our living room couch, propped up by pillows so she wouldn't tip over, as medicine or nourishment dripped from a bag into her body.

Our daughter, Thing 1, Megan, now age 9, remembers little of that today when she dances or sings or plays soccer. All that remain with her are scars, six to be exact, and the array of pills she takes twice a day to help keep the disease at bay.

What would have happened if it took us more than two months and four doctors before we lucked into someone who could piece all the symptoms together? I don't know.

I do know that the fourth doctor, the one who brought in others to see our daughter's condition so they could easily recognize it if they ever had the misfortune to be presented with it again, was a step toward making sure other parents also never have to find out.

That, too, is my purpose today.

It is also my birthday gift to my wife, My Love, Rhonda, for all you have done these past seven years to make others aware of juvenile myositis diseases and help find a cure for them once and for all.

To read more about children and families affected by juvenile myositis diseases, visit Cure JM Foundation at www.curejm.org.

To make a tax-deductible donation toward JM research, go to www.firstgiving.com/rhondaandkevinmckeever or www.curejm.com/team/donations.htm.

For everything there is a season - if you're not too busy to notice

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 11:33:00 +0000

Fall's here, and we've got a lot going on. I've had all sorts of blog ideas running through my head, but have been so incredibly busy that I haven't had time to write. So here's what's going on:

- I spent a week in training for a systems certification. The credential is worth something inside my company; not worth anything anywhere else unless that company uses the same system.
- Everything started this month: music, soccer, riding show season. We have activities going on 6 days a week with Sundays off (unless you count church).
- It is amazing how many checks I write now that school started. Lunches, pictures, field trips, class parties. I skipped the wrapping paper and magazine fundraisers. I would prefer the option of just doing a lump sum donation for the year.
- I've gotten really good at starting house projects, but not so much at finishing them. So far, I've decluttered my office but haven't finished sorting papers and filing, so those boxes are still in the living room. I've started decluttering Sweet Pea's room but haven't moved the boxes out or donated anything. Seasonal clothing changeover has begun, with clothes everywhere in the guest room. And we haven't finished painting the primed doors we had installed - in 2005.
- I love cleaning lady day. At least it forces us to pick up every two weeks. One might think I could keep the house up while working from home, but the point is I'm working - I can do a load or two of laundry, but it's hard to scrub a bathroom when you're on a conference call. And I hate doing bathrooms.
- The best part of fall? Fair season! We've been to two small local fairs, and last weekend went to our favorite fair of the year, The Big E. We've been to the Big E every year since 1993, through good and bad weather, pregnancies, babyhood, toddlers - nothing stops us from going. We graze our way through the states, look at the craft displays, watch the product demonstrations and go through the animal exhibits. The Big E is a huge regional state fair, and we love it.

No wonder I haven't been blogging lately!

Remembering ...

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 09:05:00 +0000

I wrote this post last year on the seventh anniversary of the horrible day we now refer to as 9/11:

Remembering

Ever since that day, when the anniversary would dawn crisp, sunny, with blue skies so deep and clear, the memories come rushing back, still raw as if the wounds have reopened and I'm living those moments all over again.

It's cloudy, cool and rainy today. For that, I'm grateful. Maybe the wounds will start to heal.

It's 1977 all over again

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 00:34:00 +0000

I just got back from Princess' middle school open house. Wow. This is not what I remembered about middle school, 30 some-odd years ago:

- Instead of "periods," classes are in "blocks." Blocks A through G, and then there's X block. Why it's not called H, I have no idea.
- Class schedules rotate on a 6-day schedule, not 5 days. So what you did on Monday this week is not the same as Monday next week. Considering these kids have to get up at the crack of dawn to catch buses before 7 am and then pay attention to what they have to do and where they need to be, that's just mean.
- What happened to blackboards? Everyone has a whiteboard. And something new called a "smartboard." The teacher taps the board, and poof! A new screen appears. I guess the saying "fingernails on a chalkboard" has officially gone the way of "repeating yourself like a broken record."
- Science is no longer text books and experiments, but has moved to "inquiry learning." Um, what?

But as much as things have changed, some things still stay the same:

- I could not get from one end of the building to another without getting lost. It didn't help when they handed me a map and said, "By the way, the map's not really drawn to scale, and there's stairs on the map that you can't use." Great. Not good news for the directionally challenged.
- I kept waving to my friends as we passed in the hallway: "Where are you headed?" "Art." "Math." "Ok, catch you in science!"
- Each class I entered, I looked for a friend or at least a vaguely familiar face. The same parents I knew from elementary school were either friendly, stand-offish, or hanging around in cliques like we were 11 and starting seventh grade for the first time.
- Just as the teacher would start getting interesting, the bell would ring.
- I talked way too much to my neighbor, who finally told me, "Shhh! Turn around before we get into trouble!"

I enjoyed getting a glimpse into my daughter's day. I felt the anxiety, the newness, the pressure. All of her teachers were friendly and welcoming (although I didn't exactly get the warm fuzzies from her math teacher). Princess is entering a wonderful and exciting time in her life, and I know she will thrive in this educational environment.

Want to know how I'm doing? I'll pass you a note in study hall.

Bringing home the bacon, and never leaving the house

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 20:16:00 +0000

It's been a year since I started my work from home schedule. Four days a week I work out of my home office, and I commute in one day a week. It took a bit of adjustment in the beginning, but now that I've gone through a full twelve months, I have to admit that I wouldn't have it any other way. My working arrangement hasn't affected my performance, and more of my teammates are working from home at least two days a week. With Blackberries, virtual meetings, conference calls, and associates located all over the country, our work can really be done from anywhere. Some face time is good, and I really enjoy my time in the office. But I am more productive and focused at home, my day starts much earlier and I don't lose time commuting. More than once, I've sat in traffic, looking at the clock and thinking, "I could be working right now."

Some things I've learned in the last year:

- Stepping away from the computer is good. Because my office is steps away, I find myself drawn back to my desk, rather than taking breaks. Now, I close my door at the same time every day, spend time with my family, and go back to my home office later if I need to do anything additional in preparation for the next day.

- Responsiveness is key. I am lucky enough to have a company-issued Blackberry, which means that I can be in touch with the office at all times. My schedule is flexible, and I have school meetings, orthodontist and doctor appointments that mean time away from my "office." My work phone rings through to my Blackberry, and I always check and respond to email as soon as I can. I never wanted to hear that "she couldn't be reached because she works from home." I probably err too much in this area, because I often find myself checking and responding to emails during off-business hours as well. But if a minute out of my time means a quick answer to a teammate and less work the next day, it's worth the extra effort.

- It's important to get out of the house. There were times when I didn't leave the house for several days, and that's not healthy. I've rejoined our local gym so I'll go work out during lunch, or I'll run errands during that time. I need to remind myself that folks who commute into the office do the same thing, so it's ok to take that break.

Today was a beautiful, warm September day. I logged in around 7:00, got Sweet Pea on the bus at 8:10, and then worked until lunchtime. I went to the gym, had lunch and then participated in several conference calls. At 3:30 I picked up Sweet Pea at school, took her to her riding lesson at 4;30, and later checked email and did a bit more work. Another typical day.

Before I left to pick Sweet Pea up at school, I sat on the front steps in the sunshine, listening to Princess practice her guitar. I took a moment, warm, content. So lucky that I can work and still be there for my family.

I think I've found a balance. For now.

It's a different world we live in

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 01:52:00 +0000

We survived the first week (well, two days) of school. Princess made it safely to the bus stop and arrived at school with no problems. The first day had its share of schedule changes, a homeroom switch, and catching up with friends she hadn't seen since June. She came home with a huge, bracey smile both days, and is actually looking forward to school next week.

Sweet Pea started fourth grade, her last year at our elementary school. She loves being the oldest in the school, with her classroom in the new air-conditioned wing. This year she can participate in the chorus and will be presenting several plays to other younger classes. The first day she came home tired, but a good night's sleep made Friday much better. She is also looking forward to school next week.

So I started to relax a bit. Everything was working out fine. Then the story broke about the 11 year old girl who was abducted at the bus stop, who was found after 18 years. This story is what my nightmares are made of. But I realized that all I can do is say a prayer each day when my daughter leaves the house, and hope that she will return to me safely at the end of the day (thank you, FADKOG, for your comforting words!).

And then, there was this conversation with my 8 year old:

Sweet Pea: "Hey, Mom! Guess what we practiced today?"

Me: "Your times tables?"

Sweet Pea: "Nope! What to do in a lockdown!"

Sigh. What a different world my girls live in.

Leap of faith

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 06:15:00 +0000

Princess,

School starts this week. For seven years it's been the same. Standing outside, watching for that familiar yellow bus to come lumbering up our hill. Then, when the weather turned colder, and the sun came up later, sitting at the living room window, watching for those familiar yellow lights flashing at the bottom of the street.

That familiar call:

Me: "Bus is at Kathy's!"

Seconds later: "Bye, Mom!" Front door slam. You standing at the end of the driveway, as I watched from the window. Boarding the bus, a familiar wave, and then you'd be gone for another day.

Not this year.

This year you start middle school. The bus will no longer stop at our driveway. You can go to the stop at the bottom of our hill, or meet the bus around the corner. But I won't see you get on the bus. No familiar wave, no brief flash of a smile as the bus pulls away.

No daily reassurance that you're safe.

We live in a safe neighborhood. There will be other kids waiting with you. And when the weather turns colder and the sun rises later, we may make other arrangements. But for now, you'll be leaving me every morning, and the most I can hope for is a wave before you turn the corner.

My head knows you'll be fine. But my heart is having a tough time letting go. Which is why I'm up at 2 am two days before school starts, wondering, worrying.

Knowing that each morning, watching you leave will be a tiny leap of faith.

Best vacation ever ....

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 16:32:00 +0000

We've been back for about 2 days from our vacation in Vero Beach, and we had a fabulous, relaxing, fun time. Last year we went to the Cape, and while it was nice to be away, a beach house vacation is still work for parents - cooking, picking up, driving to the beach or other places. This year, doing a resort vacation meant someone else was cleaning or cooking for us, and the pool and beach were just steps away.

This was the third time we'd stayed at Disney's Vero Beach resort. The first time was in 2003, when Princess was 5 and Sweet Pea was 2. We brought our sitter, and had two adjacent hotel rooms. Having the extra help was wonderful, but we still had to watch the girls every minute. Princess was petrified of the water, but Sweet Pea loved the water slide. We were also dealing with potty training, naps, picky appetites. We managed to have a good time, and I know our sitter still looks back fondly on that trip.

We came back in 2005, without the sitter, and had only one hotel room. Princess was 7 and Sweet Pea was 4, and we had a good time. No sitter, but the girls were comfortable in the water, and loved the beach. What's nice about Vero is there are activities of all ages, so there were craft activities, treasure hunts, and other things to do when it was time to take a break from the sun. Still, being in one room got very confining, and bedtimes were a challenge.

This time was a whole new ball game. Princess is almost 12 and Sweet Pea is almost 9. We had two adjacent rooms, with views of the beach and the resort. Vero is pretty self-contained, so we felt safe letting them go off on their own, within limits (no beach or pool, but could go anywhere else with permission). The girls also had charging privileges to the rooms (also with permission), so they could get food or other items on their own without waiting for Mom or Dad. They've become little fish, learning how to snorkle, swimming all over the pool, and hundreds of runs down the waterslide. We took two side trips, to the Kennedy Space Center and Sea World, and one day they wanted some time out of the sun so I took them to the movies. The girls were great travelers, patient during flight delays and long car rides. No, they weren't perfect, and we had some tween drama, but overall they were really good.

For me and CT Dad, this vacation was the best combination of relaxation and variety. Other than the two side trips, we spent our time at the pool or the beach. We went to Publix when we first arrived and stocked the rooms with drinks and snacks, but otherwise we let the resort do the cooking. One night Sweet Pea and I sat poolside and watched "Enchanted" on a huge outdoor screen, enjoying a perfect Florida night while CT Dad and Princess rented a movie in the room. We had casual dinners and breakfasts at the family restaurant, lunches by the pool, and a fancy dinner our final night there at the "dress-up" restaurant. Not having to watch the girls constantly gave them some freedom to do as they liked, and gave us some downtime from daily parenting.

It was really hard to leave. We can't wait to go back ...

Leaving on a jet plane ...

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 11:08:00 +0000

We're heading to Florida! If you're reading this after 12:30 pm, we will be at DVC Vero Beach:

and enjoying this:
and maybe a couple of these:

When I told folks where we were headed for vacation, more than one person commented, "But Florida is so hot in August!" Yes, it is, but I would rather be relaxing at the pool or the beach in Florida in August, than be home where, instead, I would be doing this:

See you in a week!

I'm honored!

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 00:59:00 +0000

In the midst of the pre-vacation craziness, I received something very sweet and unexpected, from my blogger friend Sharon:

"The Humane Award honors eight certain bloggers that I feel are kindhearted individuals. They regularly take part in my blog and always leave the sweetest comments. If it wasn’t for them, my site would just be an ordinary blog. Their blogs are also amazing and are tastefully done on a daily basis. I thank them and look forward to our growing friendships through the blog world. Link back to the person who gifted you with the award and share the love with other bloggers.”

First, I'd like to thank Sharon at Musings of a Midlife Mom, who has followed me and encouraged me since I launched my blog almost 2 years ago. Sharon's writing is honest and warm, and her comments always make me feel like I have a supportive friend, telling me "you can do it" every step of the way.

In keeping with the spirit of the award, I would like to recognize:

Patty at The WingDangDoo
Kevin at Home and Uncool
Canadian Saver at Saving4Later
Mapgirl at Mapgirl's Fiscal Challenge
Jodi at Jodifur
FADKOG at For a Different Kind of Girl
Grace at Graceful Retirement
Heather at Cool Zebras

To these blogger friends, and to all of those folks who visit me every day, I say, "thank you!"

The vacation countdown begins ...

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 23:44:00 +0000

Four days until vacation! On Friday we leave for a glorious week of sea, sun, and surf in Vero Beach, Florida. Our usual vacation week goes Saturday to Saturday, but this year I screwed up our bookings and flights, so we're leaving a day earlier than usual. I don't care, though - I actually like the idea of starting the weekend early, rather than flying out on a Saturday and not really having our first relaxing day until Sunday. Coming home late Friday also means we have a full weekend to regroup before CT Dad has to go back to work and we start back to school preparations.

So this is how the week will go:

Monday: The laundry triage. What's clean, what's dirty, what stays, what goes. Ultimately everything gets washed, so I still don't know why I even bother with this step.

Tuesday: The initial packing. We're only going for a week, so this should be easy, but with a fashion conscious tween and an 8 year old that seems to have shot up 6 inches in one month, figuring out what makes it through the laundry triage to the actual suitcase will be a challenge.

Wednesday: Packing part deux. This is the part of the process where all the girls in this family change their minds about what to bring, which leads CT Dad to wish he'd had boys, or at least had flown out a few days earlier.

Thursday: The final packing. The problem this year is the airline now charges for checked baggage, so final decisions must be made that will fit in one suitcase, amidst whining, complaining, ultimatums and threats that if you don't bring it down now, it's not going! Period!

And by the way? The girls and I share a bag. CT Dad gets his own.

Friday: Out the door at 5 am to catch a 7 am flight.

You can stop laughing now. Your prayers are appreciated. Thank you.

Random things

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 20:33:00 +0000

Pretty quiet summer here in the CT house, so thought I'd share a few random things:

- Where is summer anyway? It's either been cool and rainy, or sunny and dry. I'm used to sunny, hot and humid, brown grass, daily visits to the pool, and running the a/c non-stop. This year, I rarely run the a/c, and the girls have been to the pool only three times.
- On the plus side, without the oppressive heat, folks don't have anything to complain about. Makes casual conversation much more pleasant. Until they find something else to complain about.
- The girls would rather spend time with Liz, their sitter, than with me. When I wake them, their first words are "when's Liz coming?" My work from home presence is just an annoyance to them, if they acknowledge my presence at all.
- Vacation is in three weeks and I will be off from work for two weeks. The first week is Florida, second week is back to school. I can't wait. For so many reasons.
- My garage door broke yesterday. When I shut the door with the automatic opener, somehow the edge jammed into the side of the huge recycling bin. When I opened it, the edge was jammed so hard that finally the extreme pulling from the automatic door opener ripped the arm right off the door, causing it to scrape the remains, including some very sharp nails and metal edges, across the top of my CR-V. So now we need a new garage door, and I'm hoping the detailer guy can buff the scratches out.
- We've been eating out way too much.
- I've had three sessions with my trainer so far. I've never sweated so much in my life.
- I've also had two riding lessons this month. It's hard work and my legs hurt for days afterwards, but I'm loving every minute of it.
- My daughters seemed to have grown up overnight. Princess has blossomed into this beautiful tween girl, and Sweet Pea is almost as tall as her sister and just as beautiful.
- While it's true that I may be biased when it comes to my daughters' beauty, a random grandmother in the water slide line at the water park said the same thing. A totally independent observation.

I hope you're enjoying these lazy days, too!

Time to commit

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 17:46:00 +0000

Ow ow ow ow.

That's what I've been saying for the last 3 days. I had a riding lesson on Friday that went really well, but my legs took a beating. The trick to posting is to use your upper legs and not put weight on your feet in the irons. Try squeezing a horse with your legs for 20 minutes , and then you'll understand what walking like you just got off a horse really means.

In the meantime, I rejoined my local gym. I haven't worked out consistently in the past two years, including not exercising at all since my surgery in February. But after the last round of family group photos where even cropping and Photoshop could not hide the reality of my non-fitness self, I decided, enough! Time to commit.

It's not that I'm heavy. My weight is fine for my height. I was chubby as a little kid, and outgrew it by the time I was a teen. I enjoyed sports, even though I wasn't very athletic. I used to spend summers riding my bike and swimming every day. As an adult, I would take step aerobic classes at least three times a week, and even then I felt I could do more. After I married and had Princess, I didn't really exercise, but actually dropped weight due to my practicing lawyer stress diet, to the point where I was underweight when I became pregnant with Sweet Pea. I didn't start exercising consistently again until I quit my job in 2004, but once I went back to work fulltime a year later, I didn't do anything regularly.

So today I had my first session with my personal trainer. Nothing brings home the reality of how out of shape you really are until they do your body fat measurements and test strength and endurance. I'd resisted signing up for a long time, using expense as an excuse, but I also know myself. I need the commitment of regular appointments and a schedule, a plan that I can work towards and someone who will push me. I'll meet with my trainer once a week, and between the workouts and the meal plans, I'm hoping to see some real progress.

I made the commitment. I'm looking forward to the change. Then maybe I won't mind those family photos so much.

I will miss my Oreos, though. Sigh. Small price to pay for better fitting jeans.

The blogging blues

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 02:16:00 +0000

I've noticed a theme among several of my favorite bloggers - less desire to post, not much to say, and some even considering giving up blogging altogether. Even my own posting has been light over the last few months. I was going through some of my old posts, and several of them start with that very phrase.

I tend to post my spontaneous thoughts on Twitter and Facebook, and leave my longer postings to my blog. My life has been pretty quiet lately. There are some things that I wish I could write about, but I know that family and friends read my blog and Twitter posts, so I don't feel comfortable publicly writing about those areas of my life.

No worries though - I will continue to write when the urge strikes. For day to day thoughts, feel free to follow me on Twitter. If you'd like to friend me on Facebook, please send me an email at ctmom96 at gmail dot com.

But don't worry - I'm not going anywhere.

How Sweet Pea celebrates the 4th ...

CTMom96@gmail.com (CT Mom) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 02:06:00 +0000

Sweet Pea has been fascinated with the First Family ever since President Obama was elected. She loved the fact that there was someone in the White House her own age, and so she wrote a letter to Sasha Obama about a month ago. Her letter contained the usual 8 year old tidbits - some details about her life in the third grade, her favorite color and foods, the fact that we are distantly related to one of the rather rotund presidents, and other random facts. She also included her school picture. After we mailed the letter, I told her that because the White House gets so many letters, she may not get a response, but to be happy knowing that she made Sasha smile when she opened such a friendly letter from someone as nice as Sweet Pea.

Well, I was wrong. Guess what Sweet Pea got in the mail today:

*click on the picture to read the letter

While the response seems a bit like a form letter, Sweet Pea didn't mind. I'd heard on the NBC news special about the Obamas that Michelle Obama only answers about 10 letters a day, out of all the ones that the family receives. Sweet Pea was thrilled that she was one of them.

We've framed the letter. It now hangs in Sweet Pea's room. How cool is that?

Happy Independence Day!