Don't Touch Me

I've been thinking about this ever since I found out I was pregnant with Hannah, how do I keep her safe? How do I instill in her the importance of stranger danger without completely freaking her out? How do I teach her about what is right and what is wrong when it comes to peoples' touches and words.

This subject recently came up in my mommy group and so I've been thinking about it non-stop these days. I have been doing some online research in terms of age appropriate books and reviews of those books. For some reason, I always think I need to approach a subject with a book and then go from there. I did the same thing with potty training…did some research, bought a couple books, read them, put them into action. Researching and reading comes natural to me and gives me the tools I need to approach anything with more confidence. I guess I learned something in my 15 year IT career.

When we lived in the duplex, there was a registered sex offender living across the street and down one house. I know this because I frequent the online offender registry. I need to know who is living near me and if they are considered dangerous. The sex offender registry is unfortunately nowhere near an absolute safeguard, it is just a starting point. There are too many people that slip through the system and simply do not register or have yet to be caught. When you talk about sex crimes and sexual abuse with others, it is absolutely frightening and heartbreaking to find out how many lives it has touched. That is why we are starting as early as we are with Hannah. She needs to begin to learn "safe touch" and "stranger danger" now.

Every one parents differently and I respect that. But for us, it isn't an option to let our child grow up not knowing she can't come to us with questions about her body or concerns about people. I've heard too many times that a child was afraid to tell their parent for fear of not being believed, or for fear of getting in trouble. That is just way too much for a little kid to have to hold on to, they need to be able to tell their mommy and daddy what is going on.

Something that I learned in my reading is that we need to teach our children that their bodies are their own. It is and should be up to them who can hug them, and who can kiss them. They need to be taught early that it is okay to say no to a hug. I hear all the time, "go give so and so a hug" "no, I don't want to" "do it anyway". That is sending the wrong message to our children; it is essentially telling them that we, the parents, expect them to allow someone (no matter who) to touch them to make that other person happy. That is where I have started with Hannah, I ask her for hugs and kisses and if she says no; I respect that and follow it up with a simple, if you don't want to, you don't have to. She'll of course, come flying at me not a minute later asking for hugs and kisses. Because she is such a hugger, I'm working at it from the other angle as well; if one of her friends doesn't want a hug, then she needs to respect that and let it go.

It's a tough subject and one that makes some people uncomfortable. But it's a subject that we can't ignore and one we need to get our girls to be okay with talking about from an early age. I can't even bring myself to think about the "what if's" so we'll talk and we'll continue to talk, and we'll arm our girls with knowledge and power.

The Cats Have Run A-Muck

I know everyone grieves differently and I'm sure that is true for animals as well. Even though, I've always said that Eleanor was Lance's dog, I'm taking her passing very hard. She never listened to me, just like Franklin never listened to Lance. But turns out she was more my dog than I realized. I took care of her all day long, we watched our "stories" together during nap time and towards the end, she'd come sit on the couch next to me for some good head snuggles and we'd just talk.

So, I've been a mess. Some days are better than others, but I'm still crying my eyes out because I miss my dog. I'm still jumpy every time I hear a noise because there's no vicious set of teeth to protect me. Lance comes home from work to find all the locks on the door in place, and I've asked for more locks to be secured to the other door as well.

The cats are also a mess. They have lost their authority figure and are now running willy nilly through the house with nobody to reign them in. Mesa (the old one) is everywhere. She's been acting a little playful lately and hanging out ON the couch during the day. Which had been un-heard of before. George (the black one) is howling and caterwauling throughout the house. I think he actually misses Eleanor quite a bit. Eleanor never let George get too close, but she would tolerate his swishy tail every now and then. George used to be best buds with Franklin and they would literally snuggle and nap together. Then when Franklin moved out, George had a rough time of it and considered Eleanor his replacement Franklin. Henry (the gray one) has been more snuggly with me, if that's even possible. He's always been the one to jump in my lap if I'm sitting down but now, he follows me around even more as if he is worried I might disappear as well.

At any given time, any one of them can be heard tear-assing through the house. Eleanor used to keep them in line. Just one look from her or even her standing up to make a move towards them would make them think twice. Now, they have no ruler and don't seem to know what to do with their new-found freedom. I honestly don't remember what it's like to have a house with cats and no dogs, so I'm not sure if this is normal behavior or if this is them acting out because they're grieving Eleanor. Well, I'm pretty sure the caterwauling is a form of grieving…a loud form, but then, everyone grieves differently.

The Different Types of Thanksgivings

Writing about Christmas travels and plans yesterday made me think about Thanksgiving and how over the years my Thanksgiving traditions have changed depending on where I was in life. It seems that Thanksgiving isn't as high status as Christmas and so you have a little more freedom to opt out if you'd like.

When I was a kid, Thanksgiving was hands down one of my favorite holidays. There were no costumes or presents, but there was Uncle Jack's house. And I don't really know what exactly the draw was, but it was there. I just loved going down to Uncle Jack's and Aunt Rita's every year. We may have visited them other times of year, I'm not sure. All I know is that I looked forward to Thanksgiving because it meant we got to go to Sycamore. Everyone was there too, which made for a loud and packed house. That was probably part of the fun for me. For some reason, I equate loud with fun. Must have something to do with growing up in a large family.

As I got older, maybe high school age or so, we stopped going to Sycamore for Thanksgiving. I don't know why, but I know Thanksgiving suddenly lost its excitement for me. It just wasn't the same. So when I moved away for college, I opted out of the Thanksgiving-come-home-from-school break. Instead I found some friends in town to celebrate with. Thanksgiving, once again became fun!

We had a "friends" Thanksgiving then for quite a few years. It was awesome. Larry and Mike opened up their home, we got really messy, cooked up some great food and just kicked it. It was the perfect way to prepare for the inevitable stresses that would be coming just a month later with Christmas. I don't remember how many years we did the friends Thanksgiving for, but it was a great while it lasted.

Now that we've grown up and have our own little family, Thanksgiving is kind of up in the air. These last couple years, we've done one of our Christmas celebrations at Thanksgiving time and so have traveled. I would like to go back and do a friends Thanksgiving again, I just don't think that would work out as well with kids in the mix. So, for now, we're still figuring out this holiday.

**I actually just went back through my iPhoto library looking for some pics to add to this, but don't have any. The Sycamore Thanksgivings were before digital cameras and the Larry and Mike Thanksgivings were full of too much liquor to remember to take pictures!

The Planning That Is Christmas

The planning for Christmas has begun. We should have all pieces of the family on the calendar soon and then we can sit back and enjoy the ride.

When I was just a friend of Lance's, prior to any co-habitating or even co-holiday visiting, I saw him spend what seemed like the entire holiday season on the road. He had one set of grandparents in northern Iowa, another set in the quad cities, a mom in town and a dad in the quad cities. I know it was very important to him that he saw everyone for Christmas and of course, they all wanted to see him, it just meant he spent so much time in the car. To complicate matters a little, Lance's birthday is on the 23rd, the same as Tom's. And it had been a long-standing tradition that Lance and Tom spend their birthdays together.

Once we were married, we had to consider my people in the mix as well. Luckily, my people are all contained in the same area. So while we did have to drive clear back to Wisconsin, once we were there, that was it. There were some years that he and I spent our entire holiday vacation time traveling from relative to relative just to get them all in. That was when we were living in Minnesota and the large visiting circle took a long time to complete. It was great to see everyone, but we always felt like we needed an extra vacation day to recover from it all once we were back home.

A couple years ago, Lance's dad and Tom became snow-birds, so they essentially removed themselves from the Christmas travels and the birthday celebration tradition. With that side of the family, we all celebrate at Thanksgiving time. The location changes from year to year, so it gives everyone a chance at a short commute to celebrate. I love it. I think they have a brilliant idea with Christmas in November. And so far, pretty much everyone has always been able to make it, which makes it one big party. I love that there are so many cousins and kids to mix with. It reminds me a lot of my people. There is always someone with a baby and it's usually pretty loud :)

And Lance's mom has had dibs on Christmas Eve for a while now. Although, there was the one year I asked that we celebrate a couple weeks earlier because I was due to be 40 weeks pregnant at Christmas. With pregnancy comes perks. I think that may have been the same year we worked bacon into the otherwise pretty solid menu of liver sausage and waffles.

When we became our own little family of 3, we set down some ground rules regarding Christmas. No traveling on Christmas Day. It is important to us that Hannah get to wake up in her own home Christmas morning. Christmas is our day to lounge in jammies, play with new toys, and graze on special-only-on-this-day food, all day long. We've only done this for two years now, but it has been fantastic. I love knowing that for this special day, our family is creating memories and traditions for years to come.

Driving is Not a Sport

I know I was just bitching not too long ago about peoples' driving habits but I have to do it again. I am continually amazed by the amount of bad drivers I see on the road, every day. Lately, it seems that the news has been full of fatal traffic accidents and I can't help but wonder how many of them could have been avoided had someone just paid attention to what they were doing. Rarely is an accident ever just an "accident" - there is someone who is at fault, and there is someone who wasn't able to get out of the way in time.

Last night I was talking to Lance about what I am seeing on the roads these days and how it is just crazy. I remember driving the commute in Minneapolis from Uptown to Downtown (what, like maybe 8 miles?) but it was jam-packed with traffic and I never got in an accident and rarely did I see one. I also drove the freeways regularly to get around and used to really enjoy it. I actually thought it was fun to drive with heavy traffic and a lot of lanes. But these days, I find I am on edge and mostly scared to drive. Everywhere I look, people are driving like they are *trying* to kill someone.

I know part of it is that, right now, I am hyper-sensitive because I usually have my kids in the car and I'm always on alert and in momma-bear mode. And considering I was just T-boned not too long ago, I'm even more sensitive and aware of others' actions. Yesterday I was driving Hannah home from gymnastics and we're going down Grand, when I notice a Buick ahead of us in the other lane, going pretty slow. He wasn't doing anything wrong, other than going slower than the speed limit, so I kept my eye on him. As we got up to almost alongside him, on pops his blinker, and over he comes. I had to do a pretty severe swerve to get out of his way and Hannah says, "Mommy, you almost fell over!" I watch my language in the car now, so all I said was "yep, but we're cool now." I look over so I can give that driver the glare he deserves and see he is just staring straight ahead, hunched over the wheel like he is trying so very hard to see in front of him. Completely oblivious to what he'd just done.

Yesterday afternoon, I headed back out west for a little shopping and as I'm sitting in traffic on University Ave., I start looking at the other cars around me. The woman to the right was texting, wasn't even trying to hide it, had her phone right up on the steering wheel and was typing for all she was worth. As our lanes start moving forward, she moves too, but is able to somehow keep typing. Once I got on the interstate, there was this guy behind me who I could hear coming. He had one of those loud, vroom, vroom cars and he obviously was in a hurry to get somewhere fast - I watched him fly from the far right lane to the far left lane and then, like he was playing checkers or something, bounce from lane to lane, as he cut off car after car. I kept waiting for someone to not be paying close enough attention...

So, just because you put your blinker on, doesn't mean you can or even should, change lanes. STOP looking at your phone. Whatever it is, it can wait. If it absolutely cannot wait, then pull over and type. If you come upon a red light, do not run it. If you see the light ahead is yellow, chances are by the time you reach it, it will be red, so just slow down now. Leave your house 5 minutes earlier so you don't have to put others in danger with your daredevil traffic weaving.

Sleeping In

Oh how I love those words. I remember them fondly. When I was a kid, and mom allowed it, I could sleep until noon without any problem. As I got older, I scaled it back to about 10am because I didn't want to *totally* sleep away the day. Now that we have children, I consider myself lucky if I can sleep until 7am.

Pre-kids, Lance and I would sleep in on the weekend. I always got Saturday, and he got Sunday. Because, while we didn't have kids, we still had a dog that really preferred we let her outside to potty in the morning. But on our respective sleep in days, we'd each go until about 9 or 10 and it was so nice.

When Hannah came, our schedules were adjusted. I woke up when she woke up, period. Sometimes I was really lucky and could coax her back to sleep after she'd eaten and we lay in bed snuggling while Lance got dressed and ready for work. A little piece of me would feel bad, but then I would remember how early I was up feeding her and I'd doze right back off again. As she got old enough, we trained her on the whole Saturday/Sunday ritual. She came downstairs with Daddy on Saturdays so mommy could sleep. Then on Sundays, she came downstairs with Mommy so Daddy could sleep.

Now we've got baby Eliza and she is not respectful of the previously established weekend routine. She is like clockwork; she wakes up about 6am, realizes she is hungry and starts cooing until I come rescue her from her crib. These last few mornings I've brought her back to our bed to eat so I can snuggle back under the covers and keep warm. Lance is one of the heaviest sleepers I know, so this doesn't bother him in the least. Sometimes he'll ask us to keep it down, but mostly he is completely unaware there is even a baby in the bed.

Soon enough, Eliza will be old enough to train. And I know that once she is, we'll get back on our weekend routines. But I also know, I'll be sad that she grew up so fast and is no longer this little snuggly baby who needs me first thing in the morning. So, for now, I'm awake at the crack of dawn and am okay with it, because it's for a good cause.

The Black One

When the cats are particularly bad, they are, for some reason referred to by their color rather than their name. I'm not sure when it started, probably when they were fresh kitties are were often bad. But last night, the black one got in *big* trouble.

I had a cat, Kitty and Lance had a cat, Mesa when we were friends and dating way back when. When we combined households, I had always hoped the cats would become friends but that never happened. Mesa tried to reach out to Kitty to be her friend, but Kitty always furry-paw beat her. (nobody had claws) A few years ago, Kitty got really sick and I had to let her go. She was 12, she had a good kitty life, but I took it hard because she was my kitty and I had had her forever. I think maybe a week went by before Lance told me to go to the rescue league and get a new kitty.

So I did. I looked at all their kitties and went in one of their "play rooms" with a dozen or so random ones to see who played and who snuggled and who caught my eye. I ended up deciding that I had to have two kitties, rather than the previously agreed upon one. On the way home, I came up with a ton of reasons why getting two kitties was a better idea; but the main reason was that they would play with one another rather than bothering the old Mesa cat.

When I brought George and Henry into the house, Mesa was very wary. She used to be the only animal, and over the years she had to watch us bring in Kitty, then Eleanor and now these new kitties. A few months after the kitties were added, we brought home puppy Franklin so Mesa was really hating life. She ended up spending most of her time in the basement or in any room that Franklin and the kitties were not because she didn't want to be harassed or bothered.

Now that we no longer have Franklin or Eleanor, the kitties have taken to ruling the roost. Mostly though, it is the black one. He will literally hunt Mesa. You can see him stalking her; tail swishing, body low to the floor and eyes never leaving her. She sits there growling the whole time because she knows as soon as she takes a step to get out of his path, it's on. He will chase her until he corners her. Then you hear these ugly kitty growly noises that sound like someone is being killed. They're not, but it sounds awful. The hunting has gotten worse these last couple weeks…I think it had something to do with Eleanor being unable to get up and separate them and now that she is gone, George is really pushing it. Henry will sometimes join in the hunt if he thinks it is going to be especially fun, but most of the time he just sits and stares at her. Wearing her down with his gaze.

So, the last couple nights we've tried to put George and Henry in the basement so they can't hunt her while we're trying to sleep. It sucks being woken up by all the sounds associated with a hunt. But the crafty black one was able to get out of the basement around midnight. Its hard to say if he was proud of himself or upset with us, but he meowed for all he was worth in the upstairs hallway, just outside all the bedroom doors. He meowed so much and so loudly that he woke up Hannah and she called out "George is meowing now!!" Lance soothed her back to sleep while I had to jimmy-rig something to keep George in the basement the rest of the night.

I'm a little unsure how to proceed with this. I like when George and Henry sleep on my feet at night so I'd rather they not be locked up. But Mesa has decided she'd like to resume sleeping on our feet like she used to, pre-dog. And right now, nobody can get along. At least at night, because there are plenty of times when I'll come upon all three cats sleeping peacefully on our bed during the day and think, wtf? Why can't you do this at night?!

The Bond of Sisters

I have 6 brothers and sisters, 3 of each. My mom was married to some guy while at the same time my dad was married to some lady. Ironically, they were building their respective families at pretty much the same time and then everybody divorced. My parents met and along came me. So, technically my siblings are "half" but I've never referred to them as such; they're my brothers and sisters. Because of the way our family happened, there is a fourteen year difference between me and the youngest-older sibling. I know they are all much closer with each other because they grew up with one another. I am as close as I can be with them, given our age gap and the way life has happened. But I see the way really close sisters are with each other and I can't help but be a little envious and want my girls to have that same connection.

When Hannah met Eliza for the first time, I saw that bond begin to form. And every day since then, it has grown and strengthened. Eliza lights up when she hears her sister come into the room and she'll start looking around for her. I love watching Eliza's face as she watches Hannah. She looks at her with such awe and love, it is beautiful. Eliza has started reaching for Hannah as well, wanting to be snuggled and held and kissed by her. And every time, Hannah is already reaching out to hold her.

I am not sure how others do it, but I encouraged Hannah's desire to hold Eliza from the very beginning. Hannah was constantly asking to hold Eliza and kiss her. Even when she was itty bitty and would cry, Hannah would look at me very serious-like and declare that "Eliza needs Hannah now, here..I hold her." Hannah often speaks for Eliza, she seemed to get a grasp on the different cries before even I did. Hannah knows when Eliza is tired, wet, hungry, or just wants a snuggle. It is amazing.

Just the other day, Hannah was in her room playing while I was feeding Eliza in another room. Eliza had pulled away and made her "I'm finished" noise, which isn't a cry so much as a contented sigh. Hannah hollers out from her room, "Eliza all done boob now!" I had to chuckle, because she was right. Actually, Hannah is pretty much always right when it comes to what Eliza needs. It warms my heart to see them with one another, and gives me a glimpse into their future as a strong pair of sisters. I love it.

On a Break

Lance got home from his work trip last night, so he and I finally had time together to talk things over. Once we'd put Eleanor to sleep, he came home, packed his bag, gave me some hug-time and left town. So, last night was his first chance to really see the house as it is now, quiet. He was lucky in a way, getting to leave town and not have to be constantly reminded that there is no dog waiting for your food droppings or wanting to lay on the floor by your feet…

So, I started talking right away once the girls were in bed. I told him how these last couple days had been so hard on me; that every time I left the house or came back home or came downstairs or was in the kitchen, I felt the absence of Eleanor. I don't even know how many times a day I would tell her to "stop licking", she had this thing about licking her paws and I had this thing about not wanting to hear it. I also spent a lot of time just generally messing with her. Lance said I picked on her, I say she enjoyed it…it was like a playful banter between us. I'd have something she wanted, like a piece of sandwich and she'd be looking at me with that look of "OMG, I need that really really bad, puh-lease can I have it?" And I'd look at her and say, "ooooh, this is soooo gooooood, would you like some? mmmmmmm" She would of course always get a bite of whatever it was, I just had to drag it out a little…you know, make her work for it :)

But I told Lance that I want another dog. I don't want one right now, but I do want one right now. I want to fill this empty spot in my heart and my house. But at the same time I know it wouldn't be right to get another dog right now. We need time to grieve Eleanor and any dog we get now would just always be compared to her, no matter how hard we tried not to. If we would have had our backup dog, we wouldn't be in this position, but we don't so now we're in the spot of having to discuss another dog.

Lance though, surprised me with his thoughts last night. He doesn't really want another dog any time soon. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, he was always the one to take care of the dogs. I don't scoop poop. I did the daytime potties and all the regular maintenance (ear cleaning, brushing, pills, flea medicines, nails, etc.), but he did the training, the walking, the scooping, all the heavy stuff. I suppose it will be nice to not have to worry about any of that, especially now that we have two small children. But it will still be weird.

I grew up with dogs. As a kid, we always them. Always. My baby pictures have dogs in them. (Tippy and Casey) Even now, mom has a dog. She's a shit, but she's mom's dog. Lance didn't have dogs when he was little, but when his parents split, his dad got a dog and has had one or two ever since. I know every family is different, some embrace dogs, some don't. For Lance, I will let this go and accept that we're on a break. A break from having dogs in our home. It saddens me, but it is what it is. So if you see me out with Hannah and I'm with-holding food from her, teasing her about how goooooood it is, you know why.

Pizza Crust

I have never eaten my pizza crust. Well, maybe a few times if the pizza was particularly good, but usually the crust is just a waste of my time. As a kid, I always passed my crust over to mom. Sometimes she'd eat it, sometimes she'd just throw it away for me. I didn't really care, I just didn't want it on my plate.

Once I moved out of mom's house and was living on my own, I gave my crust to Larry. I remember the first time we were eating pizza together. I had a little pile of uneaten crust on my plate and wasn't going to just ask if someone wanted to eat it, but when Larry said "you gonna eat that?" I knew I'd found my pizza partner :) Even after Lance came into the picture, Larry always had dibs on my crust when we ate together.

When we got Eleanor, Larry lost his pizza partner status. All crusts went to Eleanor. I remember Larry having a bit of a hard time sharing crusts with our dog, but it was Eleanor and so he did. She didn't outright beg, but she gave you the look of "omg, I'm starving and if you just give me one bite, I'll love you forever." Amazing how much they can convey in one look.

Yesterday, I made a frozen pizza for myself and Hannah for lunch. I hadn't really thought about it as I was making it, it wasn't until I saw Hannah reach the end of her slice and get to the crust that I choked up because I knew what was coming. I fully expected her to get up and go give the crust to Eleanor or start asking me where Eleanor was. But she didn't. She just handed me her crust and said "here mommy, you can have my crust now." Each little piece she finished, she handed the crust off to me. At the end of our lunch, I had a pile of crust on my plate and I was at a loss.

I threw away the pizza crust. It was a small action but it had such emotion attached to it… I've also had to bend over and pick up every little piece of food I randomly drop on the floor throughout the day. I know I'm messy, everyone knows I'm messy. I just haven't had to be concerned with my messiness in the last 10 years because I had Eleanor to follow behind me and clean it up. She'd hear something hit the floor and she'd be on it. This morning as I was picking up the cereal I'd spilled all I could think was, damn.

Backup

I've always been one to have backup, as long as I can afford it, I have a backup of it. Backup applesauce, backup toilet paper, backup parmesan cheese…you'd think I lived through the Great Depression with the amount of backup I sometimes have. But, I hate the idea of running out of something, or being caught without when you really need it. Today, having a backup is actually considered cool and is more commonly referred to as "stockpiling." But, I was Country, When Country Wasn't Cool.

When Eleanor was 3 years old, Lance and I were already thinking ahead to the sad day when we would lose her. She was a mix of Mastiff and Rottweiler, breeds that both tend to have a lifespan much shorter than your average lab or retriever. Unfortunately, the larger the dog, the shorter the time you have with them. And considering Eleanor had blown out her ACL in both knees as a puppy, we knew that was taking even more time away from us. So, we decided we would get a 2nd dog that would not only keep Eleanor company, but would serve as a sort of "backup" for when we lost her. Those who have dogs, will understand our logic and will undoubtedly observe that same age-staggering practice.

But, Franklin messed up our plan. As Eleanor aged and became less able to stand her ground with him, he turned into a big, fat bully. We had to make that sad but necessary decision to re-home him. Eleanor after all, was our first dog and we knew she wasn't going to be around too much longer. It wasn't right to ask her to live out the rest of her life always under fire from Franklin. I was and still am sad to have moved Franklin out of our home, but now I'm angry with him. He messed up our plan. He was supposed to be here to help us grieve our loss of Eleanor and he isn't. Instead we're left with the cats and they have not stepped up to the plate. In fact, today I couldn't even find any of them when I wanted a little fur-snuggle.

Don't get me wrong, I love my cats. In fact I was a cat person long before I became a dog person, but it is apples and oranges. Never have George or Henry come to lay their head in my lap as I cried, nor have they given me the look that says, "it's okay, I'm here for you." I miss that look. I expect later this evening when Henry is ready, he'll come lay on my lap and purr while I pet him. And I'll take it. But I would rather have had my backup dog ready to dry my eyes and keep me company during the long, quiet, lonely day that was today.

Sad day, even sadder night

Today was full of tears and sobs and sadness, and I know that the worst is yet to come. I have the whole night ahead of me, all by myself with no dog to talk to. It is unfortunate timing that Lance is away for work but we really couldn't make Eleanor wait until his trip was over, her time had come and we needed to respect that.

Luckily, Hannah was able to go play at a friend's house while we took Eleanor to the vet this morning. I wanted Eliza with us as something cuddly to hold and help us through the grief. A little cooing baby eases the pain, for sure. On the way, we stopped at McDonald's for one last ice cream cone. I held the cone for her while she licked her way through the ice cream, barely making a mess because she didn't want to waste any. I know that without a doubt, she knew exactly where we were going and why. Because once she'd finished the ice cream cone and we were back on the road, she scooted as far forward in the van as she could and laid her head against my chest. She used to ride like that all the time with me, resting against me as she looked out the windows. But, she hadn't done that in years because it wasn't comfortable for her anymore. As she got older, she preferred to ride in the way back, laying down. Even though it was uncomfortable for her, she wanted to be near me this one last time, telling me it's okay, I'm here for you.

I'm still processing the whole experience at the vet, it was just so very sad. I'm glad she is at peace and no longer in any pain, but it was very hard to let her go. I feel good knowing that the last thing she saw was Lance and I, and the last thing she felt were our hands comforting her as she passed on.

It's hard to say how much Hannah gets at this age, but I've been preparing her, telling her that Eleanor will be going away soon and she won't be with us anymore. I know it's healthy for her to see emotion so I'm not hiding my tears from her but I'm saving the big tears for later when I have some time to just reflect on my own. She was asking me why I was sad, and I told her because Eleanor is gone and I miss Eleanor. Tilting her head to the side, she comes up to give me a hug, pats me a little and softly says, "its okay mommy, its okay." Oh man, it was hard to not completely loose it at that. What a sweet girl she is…then she pulls back and I can tell she is thinking about something and I ask her what are you thinking, are you sad too? She says, "well, Free Free (Franklin) go to new friends, so Eleanor go to new friends too?" I just nodded, so then she says, "okay then, we'll get new Free Free and new Eleanor and okay then." Wow. All I could do was nod and give her a really tight hug.

I have an empty living room, there is no Eleanor there waiting for me to come in and sit down by her. There is no companion to keep me company while Lance is away. There is no secure feeling when I go to bed tonight that everything will be okay because our guard dog is downstairs keeping watch over the house. The house feels empty and lonely and it's going to take a long time to get used to that.

The last good bye

Eleanor's time with us is really short now. I'm actually waiting on a call back from the vet to discuss the when and how of it all, but Lance and I finally sucked it up enough last night to talk about it. We both knew her time was coming if not already here but neither of us wanted to bring it up and actually say it out loud to the other.

I was at my hair lady's yesterday and was talking to her about Eleanor, she is a dog-lover and so is very understanding of it all. She was there for me when I had to say good bye to Franklin and knew how hard that was on me. As I was talking about Eleanor out-loud, I realized that Lance and I are being selfish right now and we need to consider Eleanor more than ourselves.

Eleanor spends her days and nights laying down, she can't get up to play or to snuggle and if she tries to, you can see how very hard it is on her. Her back left leg can't bear any weight on it so she holds it up and curls it as if it is broken, but it isn't. Because she has not used that leg in a couple weeks now, it has lost all the muscle and weight in it and looks sunken in and bad. When we take her outside for potty, we have to sling a towel under her belly and lift/carry her down the stairs and into the yard. When she sees me getting the towel, you can almost read the relief cross her face. And when I slip the towel under her belly, I can feel her give me all her back weight to carry for her.

So, I sent the word out to her friends, asking them to come give her one last hello. Eleanor has her favorite people that she's known since puppyhood and when she hears us say their name or that they're coming over, she gets all wiggly and smiley because they are her friends too. I know she'll try and put on a brave front for them, because that's what dogs do, but I also know she'll really love the opportunity to see all of them one last time. I'm pretty sure she'll know why there here too, she is just that smart and perceptive…

It's going to be a rough weekend. But it is going to be full of cheeseburgers and peanut butter.

Dear Sweet Eliza

Oh little Eliza, I can't believe you are already 24 weeks old…your official six month birthday is less than a couple weeks away. I learned with Hannah how quickly time flies, but I must say knowing this didn't make it any easier with you. I wish I could slow down the clock, just a little and enjoy these sweet little moments of yours even more.

As I'm writing this, I'm looking at you bouncing up and down in your bouncy chair, smiling at me like I am your whole world. I know it's just a matter of time before your world expands and I'm only a small piece of it. I am so lucky to have you and I am grateful for every day that we get to spend together. Someday when you're older, I'll tell you the story of how you came into our lives an entire month early, so very unexpectedly.

Your coos and your smiles have reminded me to slow down and enjoy a quiet moment when I can. I love when we lay down together and talk. You look at me with such love in your eyes and listen to my every word, cooing back for all you are worth. When I look at you, I am reminded of your Daddy. I see so much of him in you, from your easy going nature to your beautiful smile.

One of my favorite times of day is when you have woken up and are just laying in your crib contentedly chattering away. You don't ever wake up screaming, you wake up gently and happily and I love that. I'll listen to you talking to the toes you have just caught for a couple minutes before I come in. And as you see me coming in your room, your whole face lights up with pure joy. I scoop you up for a snuggle and you burrow right down into my neck, snuggling me back.

I always wondered how parents were able to spread the love around when there is more than one child and now I know. You are so different and yet so similar to your sister, but I love you for you. You are my Eliza Claire.

Trains

I never thought that I would actually live under a bridge, but I do. Well, almost under a bridge…235 passes right by out house. When we first looked at this house we were both like, whoa - the interstate is *right* there. But once inside the house you can't really hear it; all you hear is a soft, low rumble of passers by.

I grew up in small town Wisconsin, the closest interstate was like 30 miles away. We traveled country roads, and we listened to the sounds our neighbors made in the evenings as we went to bed. Our back yard went clear up to the train tracks that went through town and I spent a lot of time on those tracks. I didn't realize it then (of course not, I was a kid) but what I liked most was the sounds of the train. It was what I knew and it was comforting and reassuring because it was a sound I associated with home.

When I was 10, we had to move into town. I know if mom could have been able to make it work we wouldn't have had to move, but Dad got sick and we had to downsize. I had to leave my little town of 40 people and move into the city of almost 2,000. I didn't like it and I know I was a snot about it. But the one constant was the train tracks. The train didn't run through our back yard anymore, but it was just down the street and near the edge of town so I could still hear it. I remember laying in bed listening to it thinking, its almost like home.

Once I made the move to Des Moines to go to college, I never really thought much about the sounds of the train. At the time, I was too concerned with the sounds of college :) After many moves and many apartments, we bought our first home. Ironically, its just about 10 blocks straight west of this house. Because of the curve in the interstate that house wasn't too close to it and we couldn't really hear anything other than the occasional car driving down our street. But when we bought the duplex over in Union Park, the first thing I noticed was the train. I could hear the sounds of the train that ran near downtown. We weren't particularly close to it or anything, the sounds just carried. Those nights that we had the windows open and I could hear the trains moving through town were the most relaxing.

I wish this house were nearer to some tracks or that the train sounds carried to here. But they don't and that's okay, I have the gentle whoosh of traffic to work with. It doesn't sound like a train, but it reminds me of a train and that's enough to make it home.

Saying Goodbye

Hannah has understood the ramifications of goodbye for quite a long time now. She knows you say goodbye and then you don't see that person for a while, whether it's Daddy going to work for the day, or friends she'll see in a few days, or grandparents she'll see in a few weeks. Ordinarily, she's fine with that but today she had a pretty rough time of it.

Mom had asked us to come back to Wisconsin for a visit, but I said no thanks :) Actually, I said I wasn't quite up for traveling with both girls by myself yet. Eliza still eats fairly frequently and Hannah needs to use the potty fairly frequently and I am just not ready to deal with all that comes with road tripping with 2 small children alone. Usually when we go back to Wisconsin we stay for a few days and I allow Lance the opportunity to opt out, which he does. Hannah and I traveled back to Wisconsin several times on our own and it was always fine, but add a new baby to the mix and you just never know.

So, I suggested mom come out here and stay for a few days. We have a small twin-bed upstairs at one end of the playroom that is known as "hoo-hoo's" bed. Mom actually bought it for herself back when Eliza was born and she came out to stay with us and help me out after Lance went back to work. Hannah LOVES when hoo hoo comes to visit. We get hoo hoo's bed ready and make sure the playroom is walk-through-able and talk about what we're going to do when she's here.

At night when I put Hannah to bed mom's first night here, I reminded Hannah that when she wakes up she needs to go wake up hoo hoo. Don't bother coming into mommy and daddy's room, just go straight to hoo hoo's and tell her "wake up!" So, that's what she does. Each morning she woke up, I would hear her little feet hit the floor and then patter patter out to the porch, followed by "hello? hello? I here now" :) It's my mom, so I don't feel at all guilty about waking her up in the morning…that's what she's here for!

Hannah was insistent that we take hoo hoo to the muffin store and the bread store when she was here, so we did. We also took her to the toy store so Hannah could show her all the things she likes most. But the majority of the time was spent just hanging out, reading books, playing in the yard, doing things that grandmas do. (dishes)

This morning it was time for mom to leave and when she told Hannah that, she didn't take it well. It turned the morning into one long tantrum after another. I realize now it was how she was expressing her dislike at the situation… But after we sent hoo hoo on her way with waves from our porch, we came back inside to start doing some morning routine things and I heard Hannah snuffle. I turned to look at her and she had these big tears rolling down her face and her little mouth was in such a sad face it made me crouch down immediately to see what was wrong. She said she was sad that hoo hoo left and she wants her to come back. It was so sincere and genuine that it actually made me cry a little! I was caught so off guard, I just wasn't expecting that at all.

Disclaimer

Back when I initially started this blog (in 2007!) I probably posted some sort of disclaimer but I'm not sure and don't feel like weeding back through old posts. In case I did not though, today's post will be about ground rules and disclaimers and what to expect and not expect from my writing.

This blog is not about you. You may think it is, you may wonder…"is she talking about me?" I am not. Unless I refer to you by name, I am not. Any resemblance of description or actions is purely coincidental.

I enjoy blogging, it gives me an opportunity to practice my writing skills which allows me to get paid for my other, more topic-driven articles.

Before I had children, I used to blog about my pets. Now that I have two beautiful girls, they will most often be the topic of my posts. At times, I may want to blog about what I did the day before or plan to do this week. I may also want to blog about someone or something that recently pissed me off. I get to do that, it's my blog. There may be a day that I can't think of anything to blog about and so may venture down memory lane and tell you a story from years past. Or there may be a day when I think, I'm just too tired and don't want to write today, so I won't. Again, it's my blog.

This blog will not be full of fluffy posts that are aimed at pleasing everyone. That is not me, nor my style. I tend to be pretty sarcastic, I get that from my Dad. I also call it like I see it. You may not enjoy or necessarily agree with my humor, in which case, I suggest you just move on and stop reading. You may feel compelled to comment, that's cool. I may not feel as compelled to comment back though ;)

Not quiet...

My baby is not a quiet baby, nor was her sister at this age. All day long I hear a range of noises from coos to squeals to almost ear piercing wails. Mostly the sounds are happy sounds and Eliza just having fun, rarely does she make an "I'm unhappy" noise.

The random old person I come across in the grocery store or library feels compelled to comment on my baby. Usually the comments are about how very quiet she is. "What, doesn't she make any noise?" "Wow, she sure is quiet" "Do you suppose she'll start cooing soon?" Because I'm trying to be better about not snarking at the old people, I usually just smile and nod or come up with a reason we need to move to the next aisle, right now. What I really want to say is "Shut the hell up, you're talking out of your ass." Because as soon as they get out of her face, she'll look at me and start babbling as if to say, "ha!" :)

Eliza is just like Hannah was at this age, full of things to say to those whom she deems worthy. Which is really kind of funny, its hard to say how they decide their criteria for worthy, but it's there. I would assume it has something to do with new people, or strangers…but mom is here to visit this weekend and Eliza started squealing at her immediately. I handed Eliza over and she burst out with smiles and coos and proceeded to tell mom all about her days. And they haven't seen each other for months!

Last week I had taken the girls into my hair salon to get Hannah's hair cut. Hannah has been in there a bunch of times, but this was Eliza's first. I asked the owner who is a very seasoned grandma to please hold her while I went with Hannah to the chair. I could have easily kept Eliza with me, but I could see Becky was all but drooling at the sight of a cute little baby, so I was more than happy to give her a chance at some baby snuggles. Eliza opened right up to her and had all sorts of stories to tell her. Becky loved it!

So, I really don't know how babies decide when and who they'll talk to. I'd love to know what is going on in their heads, because they must know something I don't. Or maybe they just like messing with the old people ;)

Where were you?

I haven't yet had a chance to watch the news, our tv has been playing Lilo and Stitch all morning long, but I'm sure today is going to be devoted to remembering the anniversary of 9/11. It is one of those days that everyone will remember and think about where they were and what they were doing ten years ago. Just like our grandparents could tell us what they were doing when they heard about Pearl Harbor, we will always remember what we were doing when the towers were first struck.

Lance and I had just come back from our honeymoon. We were initially set to fly back home on the 11th, but had decided to change our plans and come back on the 10th instead. I don't recall exactly why we changed our plans, but I sure am glad that we did. We were living in Minneapolis at the time, just outside of downtown in the Uptown neighborhood. Lance was up early, watching the news in the living room letting me sleep in. I remember him coming back to the bedroom and telling me I needed to get up and watch the news with him; something bad was happening and I needed to see it for myself. I remember sitting on the couch with him, both of us in complete silence listening to the newscasters recount what had just happened, not really able to take it all in.

The first plane had hit and was sticking out of the tower…I remember thinking, how on earth could that have happened? How will they get that down from there? It didn't even occur to me that this could have been a terrorist attack, I just never thought in those terms before. Then as we were sitting next to each, letting the tragedy sink in, we watched as the second plane came out of nowhere and hit the other tower. It was at that moment that it really hit home to me, this was an attack. This was an attack on our country. What does it all mean? Will planes be hitting in every city? Are we safe? What else will happen?

I am so glad that we were safe in our own home able to watch the news with one another. We could have been in the airport trying to get back home or worse yet, on a plane flying home. I remember not leaving the couch until maybe 5:00 that night, we were unable to pull ourselves away from the tv. There was just so much tragedy to take in, I didn't even know what to think. It was all just too much.

Even now, ten years later, it is still too much to think about. I know as soon as I turn on a 9/11 memorial, I will instantly start to cry as if it were happening all over again. In fact, I can't even get through this post without crying…it is just still so tragic and so unbelievably sad. Today is going to be one of those days that Lance and the girls get extra hugs and kisses because I am just so lucky to have them

Pull over…just pull the **** over!

When you see flashing lights approaching you, whether from behind or coming at you, pull your vehicle to the side of the road. Even if you didn't pay attention in driver's ed or don't remember what was taught - it is common sense and courtesy to let the emergency vehicles go around you and not get in their way. One of my biggest irritants is when I see cars ignoring the wailing sirens, or worse, purposely getting in their way.

All too often I see an ambulance or fire truck racing up the street behind me; I don't know where they are going, or what the emergency is, but I know I need to get out of their way. Not too long ago, I was driving down Ingersoll and I heard sirens, so I looked in my mirrors to see where and what it was. I saw the ambulance coming up behind me, so I signaled and pulled off to the side of the road. Out of maybe 8 cars, I was the only one to actually move out of his way. All the other cars just kept driving like there were no flashing lights or wailing sirens. I watched the ambulance try and navigate his way in and out of cars THAT WERE STILL MOVING! Just because you are safely tucked inside your vehicle does not necessarily mean the rest of your family is safe. What if that ambulance is on their way to help your child, or your mom? Would you get your ass out of the way then?

Last night, I was headed to Hy-Vee and was driving up 63rd street. A firetruck had his sirens on and lights flashing as he came towards me. Because I was in the left lane and it was a busy time of day, I couldn't really get over to the side, so I slowed to a stop where I was. For the first time in a long time, I saw all the other cars on the street respond accordingly. I was amazed and happy to see other cars pull over and those in my lane, slow to a stop. All except one dilapidated pickup truck. He appeared quite irritated that all the traffic around him had stopped and was now in his way. He made a big deal of pulling out and around the stopped cars so he could continue on his way down the road.

Please, if you see emergency vehicles coming - pull over. You never know when you are going to be the one in need of an ambulance or fire truck and I'm pretty sure you would be upset to know that they couldn't get to you because traffic wouldn't move for them.

Our house is lived in

Occasionally, I'll see those emails that get circulated, talking about how you're never on your deathbed wishing you'd cleaned your house more. That you should be spending time loving your children rather than cleaning, blah, blah, blah. Honestly, I'm not sure what exactly those emails say because I don't read them. Anything longer than a short paragraph and I shut down, I just don't have the time.

I think though, whatever they are saying, I would have to agree. Our house is rarely, if ever, clean. Our house is lived in. I spend time every day picking up the clutter and dusting or swiffering but it doesn't make it clean by others' standards. Sometimes I feel like I'm just treading water with the housework. I used to try and do all my cleaning while Hannah was napping, but then she would get irritated upon waking and finding the house clean. "You forgot meeeeee!!!" She has her own swiffer and gets pissed if you swiffer without her.

There are those who are in the same boat as us, small children who seem to leak crumbs, following you from room to room as you attempt to clean. And then there are those with no children who don't understand how someone can live with toys on the floor, or crumbs on the rug. Some nights as we're sitting on the couch, I'll catch a glimpse of some toy peaking out from under a piece of furniture and be reminded of the giggles that came from playing with that toy. Its those giggles that make toys on the floor okay. But sometimes, it is still hard for me to not fret whenever someone who doesn't have kids sees our house. I, of course, get all the big chunks up before someone comes over, but I just can't have freshly shined, mopped floors every day in case we get a visitor.

The big one leaks small pieces of whatever her latest meal was and the little one spews milk, that's just how it is. I have accepted that our house is lived in. It isn't a display house. Maybe someday when they are past the age of spewing and leaking it will be easier to keep on top of the little messes, but right now Lance and I live in a home. A home that has small, happy, mess-making children.

Dinner with friends

I have always appreciated a nice dinner out with friends. Now that I am a stay at home mom of two, a dinner out is literally that light at the end of my tunnel. Anyone who stays home with their children knows that, there really is no "staying home" part - you are usually on the go quite a bit. So being able to relax over dinner and talk with grown ups is really something to look forward to and is appreciated so much more than it used to be.

Lance and I used to go out for dinner a lot. A LOT. We were your stereotypical DINKS (double income no kids) and spent money on anything and everything we wanted to. Dining out became more of the norm than eating in. Even though I enjoyed cooking and trying new recipes, it was just easier after long work days to head out to our favorite restaurants. We'd call up some friends, who were also DINKS and say, "hey we're going for dinner, wanna meet us there?" The flexibility we had is just a distant memory now. Sometimes I miss it but mostly I just recognize that we've moved on to another chapter in our lives that is no longer about us and what we want; it is about our children and what is best for all of us.

So, when my friends and I make a date to have a dinner out, it is a special treat. If we make plans a week ahead of time, I spend many many minutes (okay, hours) of that week thinking about the fact that I have an upcoming dinner with friends and it's going to be fantastic. We usually take turns choosing the venue, but honestly it really doesn't matter where we go; its the act of going that is important. I always feel so much more myself after having the opportunity to be out without my kids. My inner me comes back out and I can relax and talk without having to think or worry because I know Lance is with the girls and everything is fine.

I'm never gone more than a couple hours and honestly, that is all it takes. I come home completely re-energized and ready to tackle another week of "mommmmmmyyyyyyyy." So, a big thank you to my friends for recharging me last night. Today is going to be a good day :)

a mother's hearing

I used to always wonder how my mom knew what I was up to or even planning at times…I realize now it is because she has a mother's hearing. She heard everything. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, she heard it. I have it too, I have to say it comes in handy. No matter how sound I am sleeping, the slightest noise from either of them will wake me right up.

Early, early this morning I heard a fairly soft thud, followed by whimpering. I knew in an instant Hannah had fallen out of bed. Since it wasn't the "I'm dying" cry but more like the "I'm slightly confused" cry, I pushed Lance out of bed to go help her. One of the perks of me sleeping on the side of the bed that is far away from the door :) He hadn't heard the thud or the whimpering but was out of the bed in a flash as soon as I told him what had happened. Hannah was fine, she just needed a little soothing and reassurance. But it made me think about how many times I wake up during the night because one of them makes a peculiar noise, or how I can be completely absorbed in something and hear one of my babies over any other noise going on.

I have no doubt this super-mom hearing ability is going to come in handy as they get older. All those times I said I wasn't going to be like my mom, I know…I'm going to totally be like my mom. I will always have an ear tuned to what they are doing in case they need help, or in case they are in danger, or in case they are just being plain naughty.

My mom was not the type to just assume I was a good girl because I said I was or because she hoped I was. She was not easily snowed. Its not that she was looking for me to be naughty, but she knew I had it in me and was keeping her ears open to the sounds that would tip her off. Like when I was 16 and thought I was being soooo quiet with my contraband of liquor bottles I had stockpiled for a party. Two bottles clinked together and she freaking heard that tiny clink from 3 rooms away! Or when I was 8 and was talking to my hamster (because that's what you do when you're 8). For whatever reason I felt compelled to say "damn" and she was on me in a second. I remember I was in the den and she was all the way in the living room, yelling out to me "What did you just say?!" The bar of soap in my mouth taught me to never say that again. Not just to never say it in front of her, but not to say it anywhere because by that age I had already started to learn - Mom Heard Everything.

Wait…I'm how old??

I had a friend come over for some wine and catching up last week and as I was replaying some of the conversation for Lance, I suddenly remembered the funniest part of the evening. I literally forgot how old I was…

We were conversation bouncing, as you tend to do when it has been so long and there is so much to catch up on. At some point, she brings up her class reunion. She is telling me that her 15 year class reunion is next year and she isn't sure who is planning it or how it is getting planned. I was like, oh wow- MY 15 year reunion is next year too! My class is pretty much all gathered on facebook, so someone created a reunion page to help with the planning. She looks at me a little confused and asked, "your 15 year high school reunion is next year?" I was like, yep! Just to clarify things a little more, she asks, "so, you graduated in 1996?" I said, "oh no, no I graduated in 1992!" At this point, she very gently tells me, "um, it's your 20 year reunion next year." It's hard to say what expression was on my face at that point, but I do know I was pretty stunned to find that out. Somehow I lost four years, I was certain only 15 years had passed since high school.

As I was telling Lance this story, he, of course found it extremely hilarious. He reminded me that we had gone back to Wisconsin for my 15 year, remember? It was in a park, then in a bar, remember? A little belligerently, I tell him "of course, I remember, I was there…I just thought that was my 10 year."

Of course, I can appreciate the humor, otherwise I wouldn't share this story. But for shit's sake, how can I be old enough to have a 20 year reunion coming up?! Obviously my friend knew how old I was and was trying to get me to come to that realization on my own.

I don't like outside

I don't like the outside, never have. I wasn't that kid who was sent outside to play, because I didn't want to. I'd much rather play office or store or school inside. We had a fantastic climbing tree in our backyard, I had no interest in climbing it. Mom leaned a ladder against it one time hoping I'd catch the "tree-climbing" bug. That didn't work out.

There are people who can spend their entire day and probably evening too, just hanging out in the wilderness of the back yard. They take great joy in looking at each and every one of their flowers and random weeds. I'm sure it is a source of pride for them, which is great. It's just not at all interesting to me. Nana and Gramps used to have a very nice backyard. I may not have enjoyed it or really liked it, but I can appreciate that it was beautiful. I know they both really loved working in it, making it what it was. There are pictures in mom's photo albums that show me in their backyard posing for the camera by random plants and flowers. What I remember enjoying more though, was her library indoors that had all their books and games.

My parents also had a fantastic yard when I was a kid. Grapevines, apple trees, gigantic garden, all sorts of plants and flowers; it was well over an acre, maybe even two but we never called it anything other than "the yard." As in, go play in the yard! No, I don't want to play in the yard! It's hard to say where or when my aversion to outside started, I just know I've always had it. I would play with the neighborhood kids when a game of baseball was started in someone else's yard or when it was dark, and time to play Ghosts in the Graveyard. Maybe as long as someone else was out there playing with me, it made it better.

These days, as a grown up, I really force myself outside. I want Hannah, and even Eliza, to learn to enjoy the outdoors. It seems that Hannah comes by it naturally, she's always asking to go play in the yard and she loves when we go to the park or the zoo or anything else involving the outdoors. Since Lance and I have had a house, he has always planted a garden because he enjoys working in it. I enjoy knowing we have one, but I'd rather not be *in* it doing anything. Last year, Hannah got to help in the garden and she loved it. Being able to pick and graze as she went, was right up her alley :) She'd ask daily if it was time to pick raspberries or tomatoes.

Me go potty now

I woke up this morning (at 6am) to cries of "me go potty now" repeated over and over with increasing urgency. Because Lance is closest to the door, I woke him up to go deal with it. And since one was up, it was just a matter of seconds before the other one woke up and starting demanding her first milk of the morning. Our roles in the morning are pretty much automatically assigned, the one with boobs deals with the baby, the other one gets Hannah.

I know when it comes to potty training, everyone has an opinion. Do it this way - no, do it this way. And everyone is also more than happy to share their own kids' potty training experiences…even if it was decades ago. I got tired of hearing, "oh, well my child was potty trained by the age of 1" or "you know, my child started potty training when they were only 6 months old". It seems that the older the remember-er, the earlier the age of training began. I chalk that up to old person remembering incorrectly syndrome. Either way, I was not going to be putting Hannah on the potty at 6 months old - shit, she couldn't even crawl, why try and potty train?

We started potty training when Hannah was around 2 years old, she started showing some interest and so I went with it. She did surprisingly well and was thrilled to be wearing big girl underwear. But we had a setback when she got a UTI. All women know the signs of one of those, they hurt, they hurt, they hurt. And here my poor little girl had one :( It made her not want to potty at all. But, once the infection cleared up, we were able to try again.

And here she is, 2.5 and almost completely potty trained. She'll tell us when she has to go potty and off she goes! She loves wearing undies to bed for nap time and waking up dry. That's the first thing out of her mouth, "I dry!! I dry!!!" "Me no go potty in my undies!!" It is so cute to see the pride in her achievement :) And this morning, she woke up after having slept 10+ hours, completely dry and asking to go potty. That's awesome! She was way proud of herself and we showered her with praise. I know that nighttime potty training is still a little ways off yet, going that long is an awful lot to expect at her age. But we're getting there. And there is still the occasional accident, she'll suddenly look up from what she is doing with wide eyes and say, "uh, me go potty now" - when she uses that tone, I know that she needs a bit of assistance getting to the bathroom quickly because she can't unlock her legs from the "I'm holding it in tightly" position.

Turns out, I'm one of those mommies who is more than happy to share potty training experiences! But, I'm also pretty sure our experiences are very normal and average. It seems to be pretty common to try, to have a setback, to try again, to succeed. However and whenever it happens, it is a big deal and it is something for them to be very proud of.

You may remember this video I took of her after a particularly proud moment on the potty. That was one of my "techniques" - let's call your friends and tell them you went potty on the potty and they'll be so proud of you too! She was a couple months past her 2nd birthday, so the vocabulary wasn't quite there, but you can certainly get the gist of what she was saying :)

10 Years

Today's post could be about how we'll spend our ten year anniversary this evening, or it could be about how quickly the years have gone, or it could be about the ups and downs throughout the years, or it could be about our wedding oh so long ago. I am going with our wedding…it was, of course, the best wedding we could have ever had.

There are so many stories to be told about that day: friends and relatives that flew and drove from all over to celebrate with us, friends who showed up a day early to the church, nephews who forgot their socks, bridesmaid who forgot her dress, the multiple falls I took throughout the day right up through and including my toast-speech, the limo breaking down at the bar on our way to the reception, I could really go on and on.

Some of you who were at the wedding will remember this…but my good friend and bridesmaid, Jordana is a very clever girl and came up with a little trick to pull on us at the reception. During her toast-speech, she started talking about what a ladies man Lance was, and that over the years he had handed out so many keys to so many people, it was time for those keys to be returned. If everyone he'd given keys to over the years, please come up now and give them back, the fun days of bachelor-hood were over. While Jordana was saying all this, both Lance and I were looking at each other like, WTF is she talking about?! Then about half the room stood up and started bringing keys up to the head table. Random friends, both male and female had keys to turn it…that was freaking hilarious! Jordana had passed out dozens of keys to make this trick complete.

Another favorite story is when it came time to cut the cake. The whole day had just been this amazing blur of wonderful-ness and neither of us had really had anytime to just sit and soak it in. So, we headed up to the cake table to do our thing and all the guests just spontaneously started singing "Going to the Chapel" - I didn't know they were going to do this and I still don't know who lead the charge with that. But, it was so touching and all of a sudden every emotion I had felt that day just came to the surface and I couldn't hold it in any longer. I started to cry, I was just so happy, I had to cry. Lance instantly put his arms around me to soothe me and tell me it was okay. All throughout the evening people had been using their disposable cameras pretty regularly, but at this particular moment, every single camera flash in the room went off to capture Lance responding to my tears.

A great day with a great ending and ten years later, I'm so proud to say we are still very happily married. It is very sad when marriages end, but so very wonderful when you are lucky enough to spend year after year with the one who is your soulmate.

The Ring

I had to go back to the beginning of my iPhoto library for this one…a very fuzzy close up of my engagement ring from eleven years ago. The resolution on this photo says it all; digital cameras were new and so took pretty shitty pictures. The camera I used was one of the "check-out" cameras the IT department offered while I was working for Target Corp. up in Minneapolis. It was probably five pounds and held maybe ten pictures at a time, but it was new and cool and we got to borrow it for our weekend getaway.

While Lance and I were living in Minneapolis, we would sometimes escape the city life and head up to Duluth. We were single with pretty good paying jobs and so we enjoyed spending our money when we could :) The Oclott Bed and Breakfast was our place to stay and while we tried out one of their suites one time, the carriage house out back was our favorite "room." It offered complete privacy, but you could still come to the main house whenever you wanted to hang out or just grab some breakfast. Those trips to Duluth were fantastic. I'm not sure exactly how many times we made the drive up, but I know every time we did it was beautiful. We usually headed up in the fall so we could enjoy the tree colors turning.

One special weekend up in Duluth, Lance asked me to marry him. In our carriage house, he got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife, forever. I'll never forget that moment or the amount of tears I cried. I wasn't expecting it, at all. We had been living together for a year or so, and I knew eventually we'd get married but I just figured it wouldn't be until after he was done with the music scene up there. And for him to have hidden a diamond ring somewhere in our apartment that I never came across was mind-blowing!

I loved every day I got to wear my engagement ring and proudly flashed it to anyone who would look. Even now, I'll look down at my rings and remember back to when it was just the one solitaire and how young we were and how long ago that was and look at where we are now. We've done well Lance, we've done really well :)