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.