beanski

no one is home

It feels a bit like the end of a vacation, like I've gone through the cycle of packing, traveling, getting settled in to our  vacation lodging, have enjoyed five or six days of just being on vacation and am now a day or two away from packing it all up and going home. The feeling at the end of vacation is always foreign to me, almost like I can't enjoy the last few days because I know that it is coming to an end and that I'll have to say goodbye and head home and the vacation lodging won't be mine anymore, it will be someone else's. And we might as well get it over with and go because it's inevitable and there is no amount of pleading for more time that is going to stop it.

That's how I feel at home now. I feel like it isn't ours anymore. I feel like we don't belong there. The house that used to be our home, the one place where I felt safe and calm, is alien to me. Everything is packed away in boxes, waiting for the movers to show up to transport them to the unknown. The pictures of my kids have been stripped from the walls and the nails sit there waiting to proudly hold up someone else's kids. The paint is the same, the rugs are still there. But we are gone. There is no home for this family anymore.

I don't bother buying groceries or weeding the garden because the fridge and the garden aren't mine anymore. Instead, I just sit and wait. I sit and wait and fret about what is to come. How will Renee handle this? What is Cameron going to think? What if we realize that we made a huge mistake and have finanically put ourselves in to a position where there isn't a damn thing we can do about it other than live miserably in a house we don't like?

At this point I just want it to be over. For a long time I wanted to stop it, have pleaded with my husband to find a way for us to get out of this, and have finally accepted that I have no other choice other than to accept his explanation that we must have made this decision for a reason. I am trying to believe him that these feelings are normal, that they are rooted in fear because it is easier to understand the known than the unknown. I'm trying to believe him that at some point in the not to distant future I will feel content instead of how I feel today, like my skin is crawling, like I can't take a deep breath.

I just hope he's right.

going to the cities

Renee and Cameron had their first overnight stay at Nena and Grumpa's last weekend and I'm pretty sure they had a great time. Renee says "Go to the cities right now and see Murphy [their cat]" when I ask her if she had fun having a sleep over at their house and I'm guessing Cam was happy as a clam to have willing arms to lug him around all weekend. This picture makes me laugh because can you see what he does? THE CONSTANT DIVING. I'm just glad Grumpa is still smiling because it gets OLD. FAST.

I have some concerns about her enthusiasm towards Murph because he's about thirty years old and one of these days we're going to go there and she's going to be so confused as to where he went. I love how she says Murphy. It's the CUTEST THING EVER.

They took the kids to the zoo, played in the sprinkler and I'm certain she watched Dora to her heart's content. They were both smiling when we got back on Sunday and Ski and I were immediately like "WHO'S NEXT? WHO WANTS THEM NEXT? ANY TAKERS?"


Both of our families have been so great about stepping in and helping us through this move. We honestly would be in HUGE trouble without all of their help. Everyone has been here to help out with the kids and to help us pack and we are SO GRATEFUL. We'd be totally screwed without them.

The kids are going back to spend TWO nights next weekend while we uproot our home and I feel totally at ease with it. I know they will be fine. I know they'll have fun with their grandparents. That is, if He Who Doesn't Sleep can get his sleeping shit back together. If he doesn't I'm not sure they'll be welcomed back! :)

the men in my life

How or why I got so lucky I'll never know:

my girl gretch

This is the story of my girl Gretch. She got married this past weekend to a really nice guy and I was lucky enough to be part of their special day. I got all dressed up and for one day didn't feel mom-ish. Meaning I wore a real bra and high heels and jewelry and I didn't have any barf in my hair at all for an entire day. AHHH SNAP. Gretchen and I were really good friends for a long time and then had a falling out and then realized we were being huge d-bags and decided to be friends again. I'm so glad we did. I missed her sense of humor, her giggle and most of all, her loyalty. I'm lucky to have her. I only surround myself with beautiful people and she is no exception. Huh? CONGRATULATIONS GRETCH AND ADAM!

Also, a big THANK-YOU to my in-laws who allowed my children to torture them for an entire day so that we could actually enjoy the wedding. We spent the night ALL ALONE in a hotel, ALERT THE MEDIA.

eight months

Cameron has been up to no good this month. UP TO NO GOOD. He's a baby on the move and don't you dare try to tell him that it isn't cool to chew on wires. DON'T YOU DARE try to stop him. It started as the inch worm where he'd sort of throw himself forward to get where he is going and then one day he got up on his knees and figured out how to alternate them and I've been trying to talk myself off the ledge since.
 
Not really, I'm not sure that the actually moving is that much worse than the being pissed off that you can't move. Although now when he sees Ski or I, he crawls over to our feet and demands to be picked up. And when we pick him up, he immediately dives for the floor. I do no understand this madness. WHICH IS IT, baby? Do you want to be held or do you want to play on the floor because it is a physical impossibility to do both at the same time. IT ISN'T MOMMY'S FAULT, get mad at the universe instead, it's just the way things work. It's called GRAVITY.

The other night he was winding down for the night playing his his crib and I was doing what I do every night (putting away the NEVER ENDING laundry) and I went into our bedroom for like seven seconds and when I came back the little boy was STANDING in his crib. He caught my eye and he literally laughed out loud. I swear he was mocking me. The little turkey.

Some nicknames have started to stick: His dad calls him C-Dawg and I call him Bubba, Buster and Big Boy most of the time. Renee calls him Pam or Cammon. He'll never live that down. Our little baby boy Pam, we love him so.

I busted him saying Dadadadadada over and over the other day and my suspicions were confirmed: He's a daddy's boy at heart. He busts his little butt over to Ski's feet at record speed when he comes in from work and I secretly laugh to myself that's it's his turn to hold him because the baby? He's not light and he gets awfully heavy to hold all day. I'm putting my money on 23 pounds.

He still is pretty dramatic about his belly and will literally scream his fool head off all morning until he poops. After that he is instantly transformed from monster to angel. I'm not sure what is causing his belly ache or if it is just the belly that God gave him but I feel bad for him a lot of the time because I know he doesn't WANT to be fussy. He just wants to poop already and his body can't catch up to his brain. Sort of like how I don't want to eat a bag of M&Ms every day but my body just can't talk my brain out of it. I can totally empathize.

He's a snuggle bug, waking in the night to make sure we are still there. Thankfully he's OK with either Ski and I doing the holding, a trick that he could have taught his sister a thing or two about when she was a baby. Most of the time I think he wakes up because he is ramming his head into the crib and it hurts. I do not understand this either. Why the crawling in his sleep? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY BABIES DON'T JUST SLEEP. They would be so much happier if they did. He's getting better though, 60 percent of the time he gets up between 2-3AM, eats or snuggles and then goes back to sleep until 6AM or so. The other 40% of the time, however, he is up and down ALL NIGHT running into the sides of his crib and on those nights you can find me in my glider in the dark tearing my eyeballs out with my fingernails.

I love his little bald head and I will never forget how soft it is on my cheek and on my lips. I hope he never gets hair because honestly, I can't get enough of the baldness.

I love how ticklish he is and how he pulls his feet away when I touch them and how he laughs the greatest belly laughs when I blow raspberries on his chubby little belly.

I love the dimples on his knees and his elbows and that one rough patch of skin on his shin that I have no clue as to what the cause of it is.

I love how he  wraps his arms around me when I pick him up and grabs a fistful of hair for each hand and how he squeezes me in a way that only Cameron can...so strong and so sure of himself.

I love how he flops around like a fish when he's trying to get comfortable, so aggressive and angry and WHY AREN'T YOU LETTING ME GET COMFORTABLE, MOTHER?

And I love most of all how once he finds the magic place how he goes instantly limp, falling asleep literally like the switch of a light just when I am sure that he'll be flopping around there in my arms forever ever.

If only I could make it so that he would be small enough to flop around in my arms forever and ever. I would do it if I could.

paint my toenails

Ski's parents were in town a few weekends ago helping out with the kids while we got our house ready to put on the market. They took the kids to The Aquarium and both seemed to really enjoy it. I didn't take any pictures because I was busy busting my butt moving boxes and painting and running to the Goodwill and not eating or drinking because WE MUST TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE HELP WHILE WE CAN. Whew.

While they were here Nena painted Renee's toenails and I totally didn't believe her when she told me that she sat there and stuck her foot out and patiently waited to get her nails painted. But then my mom and dad were in town for a few days to help me with the birthday party preparations and Renee kept telling Rama that Nena painted her toenails and kept showing her. The polish had started to wear off so Rama offered to make them look pretty again for her birthday.

And I'll be damned if the little girl didn't sit there stiff as a board and watch intently as her toenails were painted for the second time.

Now, if she'd just let me put a damn barrette or ponytail in her hair.

the fourth of july

It started out as a walk through Leif Erickson park and The Lakewalk to take a few pictures. They were both being good so we decided to tempt fate and walk all the way down to Canal Park so Renee could "throw rocks in the big blue late [lake]" knowing full well we'd be an hour walk away from a car in the case of a melt-down. They were both having such a good time that we got really crazy and had lunch down in Canal Park. It must be documented that it isn't every time that one of them flips out when we try to do anything (just most of the time)!

The Phil and Ted's loaded up and ready to go:

There was almost no wind and the lake was like glass (really rare for Lake Superior).

Then we got to the good stuff. The rocks. My daughter LOVES rocks. You would not believe the level of excitement she gets out of plain old rocks.






Look at those teeth. They KILL ME.
 
 
All and all a great way to spend the 4th of July!

twenty-four months

I've struggled with whether or no to discontinue her monthly posts when she turned two, thinking that maybe I could do without the pressure of getting it done on-time and wondering if there would be anything to write about. And then over the weekend I was thinking about how really she is just getting good and then Ski said something to me along the lines of "you need to make sure you put that in your monthly post" and I decided then and there that I was going to keep doing them. I absolutely love being able to go back and read about what she was up to and it amazes me each time I do how much my mind forgets. It makes me take the time to sit down and reflect on her life, on her childhood and I hope that someday she gets a kick out of reading about herself as a baby and then a toddler and then a pre-schooler (BabyCenter is STILL mocking me, last year with the implication that she turned from baby to toddler over night and this year to pre-schooler).

She is particular about what she likes right now and has nothing to do with her toys at all. She wants to play outside or watch Dora and as far as she's concerned those are the only two choices. She loves slides and to play in the water. She loves her little pool, still likes the water table and LOVES to throw rocks into the lake.

She bolts up the driveway with a look over her shoulder that's just daring me to try catch her. When I speed up to make sure she doesn't get close to the road, she literally squeals with delight.

She doesn't eat much at all, blueberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, broccoli, cheese and once in a while a chicken nugget. She would rather drink her dinner in the form of milk. I'm beginning to think that as long as I send her a gallon of milk a week at college, she should be good to go. That's about all she requires right now.

I think she is pretty scared about the upcoming move. When I ask her if she is excited about her new house and her new room she says "No Mommy, I love THIS house" and then starts crying. I'm crossing my fingers that it only takes her a few days to get adjusted. It is going to be a big change.

She is picking up on words and phrases that she probably shouldn't. The other night the kids were playing what we call One Up, One Down where the second you lay down after putting one of them to sleep, the other wakes up. I was laying next to her after she had JUST fallen asleep and I heard him start screaming. I muttered a word I probably shouldn't have and she kept saying "fuct" over and over like she knew it was a word she shouldn't say. I hate to bite my lip to stop from laughing.

Ski always jokes around when he's going to change her diaper and apparently must occasionally say 'Diaper Up' because the other day he told her to come over so he could change her diaper and she looked at him totally straight-faced and said 'Diaper Up.' We both laughed for hours about that one.

She insists on being carried and directs me around. Today after we got home from work she was throwing her little hissy fit about not wanting to go inside and then when she realized I wasn't going to give in on that, she started demanding milk and Dora. She all as-a-matter-of-factly said "You go that way and then use your other hand to get the milk." I'm not kidding, she said it exactly like that.

She says "No, No" whenever she wants to assert a negative.  Never just No, always "No, No." And she says "YES" very directly with an emphasis on the S. It cracks us both up. She still says "Mow" for more and "No like it" when she gets upset about something. 

My Renee, she's something special. So particular and so loyal and so stinking girly. She looks girly and when she holds her cups, she holds them like you would think a girl would. When she spills she gets upset and demands "clean me up" but is totally fine having her hands and feet caked with dirt while she's playing outside. She doesn't like shoes and will literally run around the neighborhood with no shoes on. Just when I think I have her all figured out, she changes things up on me. Just when I think she's not going to like something, she does and just when I think she has become a Daddy's Girl forever and ever, she snuggles up close to me and cups my face in her hands and says "My Mommy. I love my Mommy." And then she always follows that up with, "And I love Daddy too. And Cammon. And Simon. And Sashy." And that pretty much sums it up, she loves us all and it is impossible to put in to words how much we love her back.
 

 

have resorted to working weekends

Life is crazy. We are moving in TWENTY-FIVE DAYS and have not packed a single thing. We don't even have boxes to pack things in. Where do you go to get boxes? Do I actually have to pay money for something that I am usually paying money to get rid of at the dump? Suck.

The dishwasher FINALLY got fixed after something like twenty days of hand-washing everything (including all of the birthday dishes and no fewer than six bottles, 15 pump parts and eight sippy cups per day) and the car is finally back to running again. To fix these two things we spent a THOUSAND DOLLARS. Which is really awesome considering we're buying a house in TWENTY-FIVE DAYS and we really didn't need that money for anything else.

I worked on a Sunday today, leaving my poor husband at home with both kids for the first time ever. I worked because our daycare is closed for three days this week and we don't really have the vacation time to cover it and still be off of work to be at the closing of our new house. My parents are in Alaska for most of the month and Ski's mom and dad have to work and we don't really know anyone else in the world that could/would take care of our kids. I thought about leaving Dora to babysit, which would totally work with Renee but something tells me He Who Is Pissed Off About Everything Right Now might not be able to handle that. I mean, he really wants to do everything himself but he hasn't quite figured out how to open the fridge and heat up his own milk just yet. And it's not because he doesn't want to do it himself, BELIEVE YOU ME. He just can't and sweet Jesus he is sure pissed off about it.

I'm not complaining about daycare being closed as our daycare provider has taken off like two days in two years and I'm not complaining that I get to spend a few extra days at home with the kids this week. But really, could the timing suck any worse?

The silver lining here is that my girl Gretch is getting married this weekend and Ski's parents are being so kind as to watch the children so that Ski and I can stay overnight in a hotel with NO CHILDREN.

{GASP}

Is it wrong that I'm literally counting the minutes to our big escape? Can you imagine the awesomeness of sleeping through the night and not having to get out of bed at 5AM? I can't imagine it because we haven't done it in TWO YEARS now.

I'm playing catch up with posts this weekend because pictures and posting will be light this month as we try to pack up and move our entire life. I wouldn't want the blog to go neglected so I'm stocking up saved posts to get me through. And I'm sure I'll feel guilty for a minute about not taking any pictures this month because eight month old babies? They are chubby and cute and they have dimples on their knees and elbows and honestly I know I'm going to wake up in our new house in a month and they'll be gone and then I'll totally just die because I missed the chance to photograph them forever and ever.

have him (the chipmunks)

When we decided to go ahead with this whole moving thing and started really thinking about weekends, we quickly realized that most of this summer is going to be sucked in to the enormous, black moving hole. So, over Father's day we headed up north to visit my parents, hoping to get in at least one weekend of lake time and to spend some time on the boat. I figured Renee would love the boat. The reality? She HATED it. She was TERRIFIED, clinging to me with every ounce of strength in her grasp. I was not amused at the time but have since decided the whole spectacle was downright hilarious. My mom, dad and I just sat there staring at her like "Really, are you really doing this" while Ski held the sleeping-before-the-boat-left-the-dock Cameron. We were on the boat for exactly 10 minutes and since then every time she sees a boat out on Lake Superior she says "No like the boat, Mommy. No like it."

Part of the weekend plan was also to take her up to feed the chipmunks at Sha-Sha because every time she sees a chipmunk in our yard, she says "Have him" and I was hoping she'd get a kick out of actually feeding them and seeing them up close. I have to admit, though, after the boat, I was a little afraid that she would flip out about the chipmunks too and our entire weekend would have been wasted trying to show Renee all about the world only to have her lay on the couch and demand another episode of Dora.

She didn't flip. She LOVED the chippies and every time I talk to her about them she says "Go back there. Go feed peanuts to the chippies." Ski and I laughed, riding on a boat in the arms of mom is downright terrifying but it is totally cool if a little four-legged creature runs up your dress and takes peanuts right out of your hand. That's our girl. She likes what she likes and hates what she hates and don't try to change her mind.

We had an awesome weekend in any case, the Rainy Lake weather gods smiled on us and we came home that weekend feeling like we had gotten a break from the giant moving curse.

I have to admit though, I'm really hoping that someday she decides the pontoon boat is an OK way to spend a Saturday afternoon. I mean, I know it can't compete the the chippies and everything but SERIOUSLY.