Lauren's Sense of Style

It is happening. Lauren is starting to choose things to wear. It started with her selecting a pair of shoes (she has two pair: one is a practical - but cute - pair of Mary Jane Stride Rites and one is a fancy hot pink pair of Mary Janes with gold designs from my mother). Which pair do you think she gravitates towards?

Kelan never cared what I put on him (he only now seems to care about one particular fleece - but I believe he thinks it is too small, so he does not like it). Kelan is like his dad - could care less about what he wears as long as it is comfortable and practical (also sounds like Kelan and Lauren's Aunt Queta...).

This morning while I was getting the kids dressed, Lauren went to the toy box and grabbed her pink and orange tutu (made by her Aunt Caroline) and my Danskin Triathlon Finishers medal (now a dress up toy for the kids). She was insistent upon it. Additionally, she chose her shoes (yes, the hot pink ones) and her hat. Who am I to say no? Let me explain.

I remember (and my mother tells me about it all the time) that I wore a particular ensemble for weeks at a time (not every week mind you, but every day for weeks). It was a dark green Poe Elementary School t-shirt (it had our mascot on it, a raven - what else), a brown flowered circle skirt (i.e. full skirt), white knee high socks and a pair of black Chinese shoes (black canvas Mary Jane type shoes). And with me doing my own hair (my mother cannot do hair, much less, she hates to touch other people's hair), I was a sight to see I am sure. But I was happy and I am sure my mom did not care as long as I dressed myself (or I just wore her down so she stopped caring). My mother used to secretly wash the threadbare outfit (which it became) at night so I was at least wearing clean clothes.

So today it came as no surprise that Lauren was choosing an ensemble herself. Granted I do keep an array of clothing options that when put together are quite funny, but even I would not have thought to include a tutu and a medal.

I Can't Think

It happened again today. I could not think this afternoon. I went shopping at Fred Meyer (like a Target with food) and Ballard Market (grocery store) and all I came away with was some jeans for Lauren, 3 pumpkins, bananas and some Swiffer Wet Jet floor cleaning solution refill. Huh? Two stores and only a limited number of items purchased? I blame the children.

Both kids are at an age where you cannot do ANYTHING but focus on them - so unless you have a list at the store, you will not be able to make a decision - about anything. This afternoon was NO exception. I thought I would first try to get some jeans for Lauren (the hardest task because I have to try them on her). Since my attention was on Lauren, Kelan took off running through the aisles grabbing all the clothes off the racks within reach and dumping them on the floor. I go to grab him and Lauren takes off running (clearly excited in the new jeans). Both children are running through the tightly packed aisles (read: hard to see) screaming with utter delight. I am screaming (well, speaking loudly), but I am NOT delighted. I wrangle the kids, buckle Kelan in the front part of the cart and put Lauren in the basket. I throw the jeans in the cart (Lauren throws them on the floor), I try to put on one of Lauren's shoes (she throws the other one on the floor), I start pushing the cart, Lauren starts throwing the contents of my diaper bag on the floor. I need to get the hell out of Fred Meyer - I can't think.

This week I was responsible for snack at Kelan's school and for our evening parent meeting. When shopping for the food, I made the mistake of bringing Kelan, Lauren and Dan with me. I was so crazed that I bought too much food and now I have tons of leftover snacks.

I have mom friend who feels like I do (don't we all?). Her guilty pleasure is to go to Fred Meyer on Friday nights after the kids go to sleep. Most times she does not buy anything. She walks the store and processes things. What a wonderful treat.

Today is done - kids are asleep. I get a do over each day so I hope tomorrow I will be able to think. It would be nice, because I could not think of what to have for dinner tonight, so I didn't.

Mr. Zartman and My Binders

This is the second time in my adult life I have written about my high school freshman year World History teacher, Mr. Zartman (you can read my first Mr. Zartman essay on Pursestories.com). I guess our teachers really do have an impact on our the rest of our lives.

I was reminded of Mr. Zartman the other day, because I made another binder (this is a very systematized folder with many tabs) . This particular one is for Kelan's cooperative preschool. I serve as the class treasurer in addition to working in the classroom, thus the need to be coordinated. There is a lot of paper associated with Co Op (and actually life now that I think about it), and I can be a little obsessive about organization.

Plain and simple: Mr. Zartman taught me how to make an organized folder (including all the tabs for separate sections). He even graded us on it. I remember thinking back then, what on earth does a binder have to do with World History and who the hell cares what my personal folder looks like. Now I get it. He was helping us help ourselves to be organized so we could learn the material (and of course probably helping himself by eliminating the I can't find it excuse). Additionally, he cared about us being organized - and now I care, because it helps me so much with keeping my kids/life coordinated.

One of my most memorable post school binders was for my volunteer work with the YWCA Leaders in Progress program in 2000 (the name has changed since I volunteered, it is now: GirlsFirst). I committed to one year of service as mentor to two "teen girls who face economic and social barriers to success". In addition, I attended a once a month full day leadership workshop with all the other girls and mentors. I remember receiving so much information that I couldn't even absorb it all so I made a binder. I did not really think anything of it until I went to my first meeting with the other mentors, and they all gasped at my binder! This was a volunteer gig - we already had jobs with tons of work. Since then, my binder became a joke - in a good humored sort of way. Everyone liked the organization of it - but in no way would anyone make one on their own. In fact they all joked that I would probably make binders for the girls that I was mentoring. What a good idea. I did. Everyone in the program was in on the joke. Uh oh, Jeanne's going to make a binder... (I ended up serving on the committee that oversaw this program for several years after my year of mentoring - yep, I made more binders!).

Through my years of working in office jobs (Paineful Webber and the City of Seattle) I have made countless binders - its my organizational system.

Fast forward to my children and the beginning of cooperative preschool. I made a binder as the Parent Coordinator/Board Member for Kelan's first Co Op last year (which I dutifully passed on to the next person in my position). I now have made another one for this year.

I went to the parent meeting the other night - binder in hand - expecting a similar response as I had received at my mentor meeting with the YWCA. What a wonderful surprise - LOTS of binders (with tabs)! Which just translates to me: a lot of organized people. So not only do I enjoy everyone's company (and their children) - it is an incredibly well run (and organized) preschool.

I am not sure where Mr. Zartman is today - it has been about 23 years since I sat in his class. However, to this day, I credit him for my binder. Thank you, Mr. Zartman.

Kelan Has a Doll

I was dancing with my children today to Marlo Thomas' Free to Be You and Me album this morning when William Wants a Doll came on which sent me into tears. I am not sad by any means - just moved. Let me explain.

Lauren got a baby doll and stroller for her first birthday back in May. She wasn't old enough to really even know what it was, but as a young girl I LOVED my baby dolls and I wanted to share my experience with my daughter. I soon realized that I should have shared it with Kelan too, because the second Lauren received her baby doll, Kelan opened his arms wide and said, "My baby!" hugging the doll so gently. What a wonderful sight. Kelan is all boy (i.e. he's all about tackling his friends, into trucks and trains and is an all around rough and tumble kid) - yet there is a soft and gentle side to him as well, that comes to the surface when he is holding Lauren's baby up on his shoulder singing "Rock-a-bye-Baby".

Several weeks later I was telling a good friend of the family, Jan (a pseudo grandma), about Kelan and Lauren's baby and she immediately said, "that's what I'm going to get Kelan for his third birthday!". Being who I am, and growing up on Free to Be You and Me I was totally supportive of this gift. Our friend started her quest to find the perfect baby doll for Kelan - a boy doll.

At Kelan's birthday party, Jan gave Kelan his gift and he was truly overjoyed. He immediately took his baby into his arms and went off to a secluded bench - we were at a park - where he could have some privacy. What a special moment for Kelan (and for those of us lucky enough to witness it).

Sadly my father-in-law, after seeing the baby doll, announced that he got Kelan a boy's toy - a truck! Obviously he does not know about "William" and Free to Be You and Me. Additionally, he did not understand the company he was in (who were ALL supportive of the gift). I guess this goes back to his generation and the limits and stereotyping put on children. My younger sister Mary spoke up and rightly said, "both are good". Which is true - Kelan loves his truck AND his baby. In my opinion, this antiquated thought process on "gender" biased toys goes beyond toys. It's much more than that. I can't help but think that my father-in-law missed out on so much with his children (he has six) when they were young. I know my father did. But as I watch my husband being "Daddy" to our kids, I know things have changed.

Dan is an amazing father who is with me during the good times and is down in the trenches with me during the other times. He has been known to change diapers AND get me something to drink while I was nursing at 3am. He makes up songs to sing to the kids while they dance. Bath time is his time with them (well, with two kids now, it's started to become our time). On the weekends he gets up and plays with the kids while I get a little extra sleep. He reads story after story to two bright eyed kids who just want one more.

I remember when Dan and I would both read books to Kelan before bed (before Lauren was born). Every time I read the ending of Guess How Much I Love You, Dan cried. True. The book described what he was feeling as a father: "I love you to the moon and back".

Dan is experiencing what is IS to be a father. He is taking it ALL in - the good, the bad and the ugly. I think he understands what mothers have known for some time, it's not about us anymore - it's about the kids. This is life - our future. I believe a lot of our generation's fathers did not quite get this idea. I think this is why my father failed at being a dad. It seemed that he believed it was still about him. He never had a chance to see what it meant to be Daddy.

So when I see Kelan with his doll holding him sweetly, I smile. Kelan will be an amazing father if he chooses to have children. He will be kind and understanding. He will co-parent with his partner. He will love his kids so much, and will know it's about them. After all, he will have learned from the best.

We Came Back

We just got back from our last vacation for this summer. We went to Whistler, BC and it was pure heaven! I almost thought we would not make it, because Kelan was just getting over his month long stomach illness (which was never fully diagnosed). Kelan had not thrown up in 2 days and his diarrhea seemed to subside so we decided to go for it and embark on the 5-6 hour drive to Canada.

I had the brilliant idea of leaving after dinner so that the kids would sleep during the car ride. This idea is good in theory, but in practice it was quite possibly the worst idea I have EVER had. Lauren and Kelan fell asleep right on schedule, but after an hour they both woke up with no signs of going back to sleep. In fact Lauren became hysterical because she was so tired and could not sleep in the car. So here we were on a two lane road headed up to Canada (hours still to go) in the dark, on a road that is under construction (they are doing MAJOR road work in preparation for the 2010 Winter Olympics) and not many places to stop. Kelan had given up by this point. He sat in his car seat with his tired glazed eyes focusing on nothing in particular while Lauren SCREAMED. In fact, she cried so hard that she threw up. I have heard of this happening but I have never witnessed it firsthand. It's not pretty. I eventually had to squeeze into the back seat between the car seats and sing/hum our nighttime lullaby while rubbing her face and arms and legs for about a half hour until she crashed. Dan managed to drive stoically through the chaos. He is my hero.

Set between snow capped mountains, Whistler is a ski resort village that caters to mountain bikers during the summer. The village and surrounding trails are perfectly groomed (you are definitely not roughing it) that all you have to do is take in the beauty around you. Dan had found a deal online at the Tantalus Resort which included: two rooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, dining area and living room (not to mention the balcony that overlooked the pool and mountains). After Vegas, we learned that we need the space with kids and the kitchen helps cut down on food costs.

We soon fell into a routine. Mornings were spent as a family, then we would would head back to the room for lunch. Dan would then leave for his mountain bike adventure while the rest of us would explore Whistler, go swimming in the pool or play on the jungle gym at the hotel.

I love seeing the kids outside and experiencing new things. It's very important to me and Dan and we will continue to take our kids outside. We walked along tree lined trails with slugs, snakes and chipmunks crossing our path - thankfully no black bears (although Dan did see one while biking one afternoon. Whistler is black bear country and everywhere you go there are signs about getting "Bear Smart" - i.e. what to do if your paths cross). One of my favorite walks was to the Lost Lake - which we did twice. It was stunning and the kids loved playing on the beach and in the water. There was also a family of ducks that would come close to the kids and dart away as soon as the kids tried to grab them.

One morning I made banana pancakes and Lauren decided she wanted to use a fork. With her daddy's help (and Kelan's) she ate her breakfast like a big kid. It was a sweet family morning that I remember.

We spent time swimming in the pool (and the Lost Lake) looking up at the mountains, walking through Whistler Village, climbing the jungle gyms, playing in the sand (and eating it...Lauren!), watching the mountain bikers come down the slopes, eating Indian food (our favorite dinner!), climbing rocks and just getting really dirty. It was wonderful.

On our last day it rained. Down poured is more like it. Dan would not be able to get one more ride in before we left (but he might not have been able to anyway because he crashed the day before and jammed his left wrist). Just as well - we were leaving and had learned we should drive in the day rather than the night.

The kids napped for the first hour of the ride back - which was what we expected. Now what to do to get home without a meltdown? We must make some stops along the way. We managed the perfect stop: a sweet little town - Horseshoe Bay - where we could eat and play in a park by the water's edge. We found a cafe and as Kelan entered he announced, "this is perfect!" - and it was. Afterwards we walked over to a park where we let the kids play and we could see the ferries come and go. The kids loved the park and did NOT want to leave (or maybe they just didn't want to get back on the road).

We managed to get everyone back into the car and headed out of Horseshoe Bay. Or so we thought. We kept going around in circles due to one way signs and lack of signs leading us to the highway. Every time we circled back around the park Kelan would announce, "we came back!" This sent me into hysterical crying fits of laughter every time he said it, but Dan only became more and more frustrated (he was driving). At last we made it out - whew! - and headed home without incident.

We will come back to Whistler - it was a great trip.

Epilogue

It's 5am the morning after our return. Kelan has wet (soaked) the bed that we are sleeping in so I'm up getting him changed and finding towels (freshly washed after all the vomit and diarrhea Kelan had before the trip) to line the bed. It's 6am and Lauren is screaming. Dan goes into her room to find her sitting in diarrhea (leaked out of her diaper all over her crib). He brings her downstairs just in time for her to throw up. It's the same "symptoms" we were dealing with before our trip, just a different kid. Welcome home. We came back.

A True Test of Parenthood

Boy it's been a crappy day (literally). Kelan and Lauren are sick again. What we thought was the stomach virus may be giardia (that means parasite). Let me back up.

Kelan first threw up on July 31st (see Heirloom Tomatoes posting). No panic. Vomit happens. A 24 hour thing at best. He got better. Then the vomit and diarrhea started again. He got better - again. The doctor even gave Kelan the "go ahead" to be around folks. Then last night (note: Kelan sleeps with me) at midnight I heard the rumblings that can only mean 2 things. Vomit or diarrhea. Soon explosive sounds were coming from Kelan's bottom (thank goodness for night night diapers, lots of towels already under Kelan, and my poor sleep habits that make me alert enough to be prepared for what is about to happen). We have a winner. Diarrhea. During a pause in intestinal expulsion, I managed to get Kelan on the toliet. Good thing too. Kelan let loose a fury I did not know was possible. I cleaned him up, put him in a new diaper and we went back to sleep.

3am. I heard more rumblings. I shot out of bed and got Kelan into the bathroom only to have him throw up all over the floor, violently I might add. I called for Dan (who's upstairs asleep in Kelan's bed) - I needed reinforcements. Kelan is now pale and shaking. I strip him down, clean him off, get him in a new diaper and clothes before I tuck him back into bed. Dan is cleaning up the mess in the bathroom...reluctantly (hell, I would be too if I had just been startled from sleep and been told to clean up vomit. Have I mentioned that I have the best husband? He also went into work late this morning to let me sleep till 8am). I take all the bath towels used to clean up the mess and start a load of laundry while Dan is disinfecting the bathroom. It's 4am. We're exhausted. We head back to sleep.

I have to say that Lauren was NOT asleep through all of this. We heard sporadic cries coming from her room. But then she would quiet down - so we figured it was just her teeth and she went back to sleep. This morning we found out that she had diarrhea in her diaper and had thrown up on herself sometime during the night. I am such a bad mom.

I decided to take the kids to the doctor this morning. We learned that the stomach virus that is going around does not behave like this and that we need to get tests. This means: stool sample. I am instructed to get some Saran Wrap to line the kids' diapers to collect samples. However, Saran Wrap is not absorbent, so it is very messy. Additionally, to get both kids to poop at the same time seems an impossible task.

Early this afternoon I smell something from Lauren (success!). I do not want to just drop off one sample at a time (and it needs to get to the lab in short order once collected), so I ask Kelan if he can poop. "No, I'm fine," he says. I look at him again and say, "I will give you a cookie if you can poop in your diaper right now". I'm such a bad mom. But you know what? It worked and he got a cookie.

I collect the samples, the kids and head out to the lab to drop off the poop. Lauren's turns out to be not enough to test. I'll have to redo hers. Lovely. We go home. Around 4:15pm I collect her sample - again, the kids - again, and head back to the lab to drop off her poop - again.

It has been a day. I am worn out. The kids have watched a lot of Thomas, Sesame Street and Clifford today. I am such a bad mom. But there are not a lot of options for sick kids (with a tired mom) who need to be quiet and have something to do. Hopefully tonight will better, but just in case, all bedding and towels are clean for round two should we need them.

"Ode" to Sara

Today I bought two new bras. It was time, I have lost my pregnancy weight (for the second time) and have finished nursing my daughter (breasts are considerably smaller). What does bra shopping have to do with being a mom? Everything. My breasts have nursed two children and have fluctuated in size for the past several years due to pregnancies (gaining and losing weight)..

I went to Nordstrom to get fitted - and thank goodness I did. I was wearing a 38C and went to a 34DD (and as I explained to Dan who got excited "no, I did not get bigger breasts, the extra cup size offsets the number a little bit", but I think I lost him at DD). Apparently 8 out of 10 women are wearing the wrong bra size. For those who know me, you would not look at me and say "Double D", but that was what fit perfectly.

Let me just say that I love my Nordstrom lingerie salesperson - Sara. She spent at least a half hour finding the perfect bra for me (after measuring and double checking size) and she brought in bra after bra until we were satisfied. If you have never been fitted for a bra - YOU MUST GO! Please note that you cannot be embarrassed to have another person examine and contemplate your breasts (that you know about) and actually help you put on a bra. The way I figured it, this is nothing compared to the embarrassing moments associated with childbirth.

Once Sara's search was over, and I was happy, I realized that I didn't wear the right shirt to see if the bra passed the ultimate test - the fitted white t-shirt. No problem. Sara had the perfect shirt for this test. I put the shirt on, and OH MY GOODNESS - I looked great (if I do say so myself). It was like the Miracle Suit - lose 10 pounds in 10 seconds (a correct fitting bra can do that for you) and the t-shirt was so great that I bought that too. I was so pleased with the bra that I asked if I could wear it out of the store (like a little kid with new shoes). Sara said she got a lot of that and yes, I could. I wore the white t-shirt out too.

When I returned home I was still so happy about my purchase (I am embarrassed to say that each bra was about the cost of a good pair of shoes - but they will last) that I told my cousin Laura (who was babysitting) all about them. "Ooh, are they pretty?!" she asked. Uh no. They are that "nude" color without lace. But they were exactly what I wanted and needed: comfortable, wearable under t-shirts (including white) and durable with the added bonus of making me look better. I was not saddened by any means when Laura brought up aesthetics, of course she would want them to be pretty. She's 19. All bras are pretty at 19 (why would you wear one that isn't pretty at 19?). At 19, your breasts have lift all on their own.

I thanked Sara profusely after our time together. She was so helpful and kind. Then she informed me that the t-shirt I was wearing was a SMALL. I reached for her, hugged her tight and said, "I love you."