Nora Bear... on the move

By The Numbers

2012-01-27T16:31:00.000-08:00

Sam is BACK!

Check out Nora's clog/slippers!

I am overjoyed but I must say the last 10 days have given me a fresh perspective on my daughter. She is, simply, wonderful. Seeing her wake-up in the morning and watching her be bright and sunny and sweet is not something I get to see when Sam is home (because I'm usually out of the house before she is awake!). I was able to revel in the morning-Nora everyday while Sam was away. Which is not to say it wasn't hard, but it was worth it. And it made me miss her during the day a lot more than I normally do.

The past 10 days were a success in other ways, too. Here they are, by the numbers:

10: number of solo bedtimes
1: number of missed baths (Nora's)
1: number of forgotten dinners (mine)

2.5: number of times I shaved my legs
64: number of times I said "i'm in the shower, honey!"

3: number of times I was late to work
0: number of times I was more than 5 minutes late to work
0: number of times I forgot to pick Nora up

2: number of times I took the trash out
4: number of loads of laundry completed
2: number of neighbors who shoveled for me
2: number of times I checked the mail

11: number of extra hours of babysitting I paid for
60: number of minutes I spent away from Nora and not at work
1: number of times I almost locked myself IN the car

5: number of dinners we had out with friends.
6,231: number of friends who offered to have us over or cook us a meal or help in any way they could. (We're very lucky.)

10: number of Felicity episodes I watched
0: number of pages written for a paper due on 1/31
3: number of days I had Braxton Hicks

Pretty impressive, right? Come on, admit it. You're impressed.

Today

2012-01-19T15:22:00.000-08:00

Today Sam was a Jew in Germany eating bacon and drinking beer in an Italian restaurant. He said that every time he saw a little person it made his heart ache.

Today I split a Trader Joe's Pizza Olympiad with Nora Bear and though I am jealous when I look at pictures of Sam next to part of the Berlin wall, I am happy to not be missing my little girl.

Especially because she has said some truly hilarious things recently.

Last night in the bath she said, "I'm going to put my hair on like Madeline Kahn," and then she took a wet washcloth and "put her hair (wig) on."

This morning, when I woke her up to go to "Genevieve's school" (where we go now that we don't go to "regular school") she popped her head up and said, "Abba's in Europe." She then "sang" a song that went like this while I changer her diaper: "Europe, Europe Europe!" It was pretty adorable.

She also has her face painted like a little kitty. Pretty damn adorable, too.

Here's a picture:

And here we are Skyping with Abba just a few moments ago:

We miss him and he misses us, but we're all hanging in ... for now.

It's a Boy!

2012-01-06T16:28:00.000-08:00

So, we're having a boy! I'm just shy of 20 weeks pregnant and on Tuesday we had the ultrasound when we found out, among other things, it's a boy!

When I got home from the appointment I told Nora I had been at the "little baby doctor" and they had told me that the little baby was a boy.

Her response? "Um, I want a sister."

I told her I understand, but that it wasn't up to us and she was going to have a brother.

Her response? "Um, take off your sweater."

"Nora," I said, "You can't see the baby, only the doctors can see the baby."

Her response? "Take off your sweater."

Oh, the places her mind goes!

Another recent gem: Upon seeing Sam's grandmother in a photo album she said, "Savta's not dead, she's right here." Sam explained that she was in fact dead and that that was a picture from when she was alive. "No," Nora responded, "you're wrong. She's right here."

In other news, I feel really, really pregnant and cannot believe how much bigger I'm going to get. Just this week my belly has begun to itch and stretch and instead of just feeling the baby on inside, I was actually able to feel the baby from the outside (conveniently during a meeting last night!).

Exciting and busy times over here!

Nora's First Trip to the Famous Blue Slide Park

2012-01-01T10:12:00.001-08:00

Oh, payback...

2011-12-26T17:17:00.000-08:00

I really should be paying more attention to this pregnancy, but instead I'm just fascinated, or should I say, preoccupied with, Nora.

She is an ever-changing, ever-growing, ever-maddening and ever-humorous little two and half year old. And everyday she is reminding me more and more of me. Which is more than a little distracting.

Here are some examples:

If there is a LITTLE BIT of "brown" on a piece of avocado, she treats the whole piece as if it has been contaminated by nuclear waste. I would tell her to cut the drama, but I was that girl (eating something other than an avocado, though).

If Nora is in the bathtub and she finds a stray hair left over from my shower she FREAKS OUT! I would tell her to cut the drama except I remember being that girl freaking out.

And when I take her out of the bath and she's cold, she gets REALLY UPSET. And I would tell her to cut the drama except I remember being that girl who was really upset.

Nora has a really hard time falling asleep ... it can literally take her hours. There is a lot of singing and talking and bossing around of stuffed animals. And I would tell her to cut the drama except I remember being that little girl who couldn't fall asleep. It's really no fun when you can't turn your brain off, so I try to be sympathetic, even when all I want to do is go to bed myself.

And poor Mae Cat. Nora LOVES Mae Cat, but Mae would prefer less affection and noise. I had a similar relationship with my family cat, Kip, and it took years of him running away from me to finally convince me there was a better way to play with him.

Really it seems that a day doesn't go by that I don't end up "scolding" Nora for doing something I'm sure I did at her age. And it is not uncommon for someone to look at Nora and then look at me and say, "She's so... DRAMATIC!" At which point, Sam looks at me and at the person and says, "Ya think?!"

So, I guess this is really an apology to my mom...

Ringing Rock Climber

2011-12-26T17:16:00.001-08:00

Chanukiano

2011-12-21T17:12:00.001-08:00

Playing Ball

2011-12-20T13:07:00.001-08:00

Bathtime for...?

2011-12-16T16:56:00.001-08:00

Box Monster

2011-12-16T15:28:00.001-08:00

The Snoogle

2011-12-11T04:53:00.001-08:00

The snoogle is back. And so is my love-hate relationship with it. I actually remember hating it when I first started using it during my last pregnancy (the pillow part was too puffy for my head/neck) and in the end loving it more than I could ever imagine, but that may have been putting too rosy a spin on it...

For those of you who don't know, a snoogle is an elongated "C" shaped body pillow meant to help you sleep on your side. You can sleep facing it or with your back to it (so it's spooning you!) but in either case there is a part under your head, a part between your knees and a part along your body. It's helpful because pregnant woman aren't meant to sleep on their stomach, for obvious reason, and they're also not meant to sleep on their back, because the uterus can put too much pressure on the vena cava causing problems for the mom and the baby. So we're left with our sides. And if I remember correctly, we're really only supposed to sleep on one of our sides, but I think that's less important overall.

I've spent the last several weeks trying to train myself to sleep on my side, but trying to train yourself to do something while you're asleep is just as hard as it sounds.... So I broke out the snoogle and brought it into bed last night. It is mighty comfortable to sleep with. And if I slept soundly throughout the night, I would have no complaints about it at all, but alas, what pregnant lady do you know who sleeps through the night? And when you're NOT sleeping, the snoogle can be sort of a pain.

First of all, if you sleep with it between you and your partner, it's like there's a wall separating you from your loved one and that can be sad. But if you sleep with it on the "outside" of the bed then getting out of bed to pee (which I typically do twice a night these days) involves an action akin to pole-vaulting a whale over a wall, without a pole, and you're the whale....

Similarly, turning over, from the snoogle-facing position to the snoogle-spooning-you position takes more strength and dexterity than I have on a good day, and certainly 10x that of most sleeping pregnant women.

So what to do? I don't know. Likely I will keep up the good fight and try to really sleep through the night because if I do, I can just love the snoogle instead of love-hate it.

The Difference Between Dead and Dying

2011-12-08T21:49:00.000-08:00

I've spent this past week re-reading the emails I wrote and received in the week surrounding my father's death in 2005.

There are several things that strike me about those emails, but the most startling one is this:
My. Father. Died.

Anyone who knows me (everyone reading this?) knows that that is a pretty absurd thing for me to say. The fact that my father is dead is pretty much a defining characteristic of who I've become over the last six years. I talk about it more than is seemly. But being "dead" is different than "dying." The idea that he was alive one moment and not the next is still something I have trouble wrapping my head around. I've come to accept that my father is dead. I'm not sure I will ever accept that he died.

And my father's death was not a quick one. You would think I had time to process it when it was happening. It was a fairly steady six week decline, but I can only make that observation in retrospect. During those six weeks it seemed like we were on the craziest roller coaster you could ever imagine. That's because when faced with the unknown that looks pretty damn bad, any slight uptick that occurs in your favor is magnified beyond belief.

For example, the week that he died (on a Friday) I had made a commitment to myself that I would be in my office in New York for five continuous days - something I hadn't done in over a month. It seemed possible. My dad was in a coma with no real signs of anything changing anytime soon. My brother had flown to Pittsburgh from California to manage things for a while. I showed up at work on Monday morning and proceeded as if five days in the office were possible. In fact, I spent much of Monday (if my gmail tells the tale of my day) trying to find a girlfriend to see a show with me that Thursday night. Yup, I actually had tickets to see an off-Broadway play that week, because, as I said in my email to a friend, I was trying to "live as normal a life as possible." As My Father Was Dying.

It seems absurd in retrospect but I have to remind myself that during the last week of his life, we didn't KNOW it was the last week of his life.

It turns out I didn't make it to the play nor did I last five straight days in the office: I got the call Thursday afternoon that it was "time." Time to fly back to Pittsburgh. Time to turn off the machines.

I had forgotten that I had tickets to a show until I re-read those emails. When I think back on that week in my mind, it is just the week my father died. I didn't remember trying to act normal. It seems ludicrous, with what I know now, that I was expending energy trying to do anything but survive that ordeal. But that is hindsight. In the moment I think I would have done anything approach normal.

Here's another thing that strikes me about these emails: My friends and family are AMAZING. The things that were said to me, the things that were done for me, the distances people traveled to make sure I was surrounded by love: It's frankly overwhelming even now, even six years later.

As I re-read the emails I realized how raw I was. I realized how hard it must have been to support me, whether my ordeal was touching raw nerves and stirring memories of their own losses or whether they had no idea what it was like to lose someone close to them (which may have made my emails even harder to understand) and yet so many of my friends were so present for me.

If there is one silver lining in these sorts of situations (and I actually happen to think there are many), I think it is the opportunity that really difficult situations allow us to show those we care about just how much we care. I have always been grateful for the circumstances (like a wonderful and understanding boss) that allowed me to be there for my dad. It may have been the hardest thing I have done in my life to date, but I think I rose to the challenge and I think he knew it.

Still, I am far more comfortable being the person with a dead dad than I am being the person who watched him die. From the vantage point of six years out I'm not quite sure how I survived it.

(Photo courtesy of Matt Cohen Photo, who, I should mention, is making Neil Cohen very proud right now. Check out THIS out.)

SASSY!

2011-11-28T17:34:00.000-08:00

Several weeks ago I was gifted a dozen issues of SASSY magazine ranging in dates from 1990-1993.

It's hard for me to explain what an amazing gift this was. To do so I would have to explain what an impact SASSY had on my life circa 1990-1993.... and that impact was huge. SASSY made me feel less alone. And it made me feel like it was ok to be smart. It made me feel like high school was high school but what came next would be amazing. In some ways it was sort of a real time "it gets better" project for smart quirky girls caught in really traditional lives. And what's amazing to me is all the ways I must have been influenced by SASSY that I didn't even realize and can only see now.

I read SASSY each night while giving Nora a bath. She likes to be left alone to play for several minutes before I wash her and brush her teeth so I sit on her princess potty/stool and flip through a magazine that I originally read on my top bunk 20 years ago. It's sort of a surreal mux up of things.

I've re-discovered some amazing things:

Unknowns Angelina Jolie and Chloe Sevigny in anonymous fashion spreads.
Gwenyth Paltrow in an Esprit Ad Campaign. (Remember Esprit?!)
Hugh Gallagher's College Essay.
The "After a while you learn" poem (of questionable providence).
I also saw a profile of a woman I worked with in 2001 in New York City ... I really wish she would have told me that she had been profiled by SASSY so I could have worshiped her even more!

But there are other things I'm learning too that are a bit more surprising... like the aggressively personal, hip and somewhat snarky "we know best, you should just trust us" attitude is more annoying than I remember. They are super-mean to their interview subjects (like Christian Slater and (my personal friend) Milla Jovovich) and then feign surprise when they get called on it. I remember thinking that was cool at the time. It isn't (and not just because I've had lunch with Milla!).

Basically I feel like I've been given a glimpse of what it must have been like to be my parents. They must have flipped through the magazine each month when it was delivered to the house or when I left them on the kitchen table. They must have felt the same level of discomfort with the tone and attitude and they must have hated hearing me quote and ape it. So as I sit watching my 2.5 year old boss around her foam letters "RED Z, you go THERE!" I wonder what is going to influence her and how I'm going to feel about it.

I wouldn't have wanted to have forgo SASSY's influence on me, but a little less snark would have been nice (from me and from them, I suppose).

Ghost in My House

2011-11-27T16:15:00.000-08:00

She's right. You can't take a picture as ghosts don't show up on film.

Swinging

2011-11-27T07:02:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving

2011-11-26T12:40:00.000-08:00

Here's a flashback to Thanksgiving 2010.

Hard to believe that was a year ago!

A lot has changed. "Missa," who was pregnant in that video has a 9-month old baby and I, who had an 18-month old in that video, am pregnant with my second baby!

We had a blast last Thanksgiving and we were hoping to spend Turkey Day with them again (and not just because they have TV (and football) and we do not!), but it didn't work out. Sam and I toyed with making Thanksgiving dinner for our selves, but decided against it so I made reservations! I do my best not to travel on extremely busy holiday adjacent days, so staying in town, eating out and being mellowed sounded pretty good to me.

We ate at The Pressroom which was pretty much what we expected: large portions, attractive decor, slightly dated menu and slightly harried service, but all in all, even with the timebomb it was an enjoyable evening. And my filet was superb!

Here are some pics, including Sam's first attempt at sight-gags with Nora, and her reaction:

THOMAS!

2011-11-26T10:49:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I got a message from my old work colleague, Bari, that she was bringing her family down from Brooklyn to see Thomas the Tank Engine at the Strasburg Railroad. My first thought was "CRAP! I really meant to get tickets to that for Nora!" So after making dinner plans with Bari and her family, I promtly hopped on-line to see if there were any tickets left. She had booked her family on the earliest train of the day but when I got on-line that and every other train was booked, except for one even earlier that they must have added due to the amazing demand for Thomas(!). I had mixed feelings about the whole thing:

#1 - It was expensive.
#2 - I was worried that Nora would be very excited about it, until we got there, at which point she would freak out and refuse to do anything fun, sort of like Dutch Wonderland.
#3 - I hate crowds. And traffic. And waiting in line. And pretty much anything else that goes along with things that are designed for family fun.

The truth is, if Bari had not gotten in touch, we would have missed it and at some point I would have realized it. I might have felt a twinge of (feigned) guilt, but secretly I would have felt like I had dodged a bullet.

But then I had this thought: The past month had been horrible. Nora had had strep followed by a cough that wouldn't quit (which eventually turned into a double ear infection). I had to work on a couple of weekends and had several really challenging projects in my grad class. Sam had been back and forth to New Rochelle to be with his sick grandmother and Nora had gone along a few times as well which meant a lot of time strapped into a car seat. There had been too much bad news and not enough fun. So, I booked the tickets, thinking that's what a good mom does.

The following Friday night we met Bari and her family for dinner at Lancaster Brewing, our go-to for loud, family friendly fare that still feels a little hip. It was nice catching up with Bari, though to be fair, we know each other way better on-line (and via facebook) than we did went we worked 50 yards apart a decade ago. And we have a lot more in common now, too, seeing as our kids are six weeks apart. As always, dining with Nora is like dining with a timebomb, and this is how the night ended:

. . .or at least that's how our night with Bari and her family ended. Our "night" continued from 1:40am - 3:15am when Nora's cough that wouldn't quit robbed us all of our sleep. And then we had to get up the next morning and leave the house by 8am to get to Thomas(!) on time. It was not a very pleasant morning and when Sam suggested we didn't have to go I barked at him something about the amount of money I (we) had spent on the tickets and we piled into the car. I was shaking with sleep deprivation as we drove and I could only think that this was why people with kids at theme parks always looked so miserable. I could not believe we had become that family.

Upon arrival though, things began to look up... It was chilly but not too cold. We didn't have to park too far away and we were towards the front of the line to board Thomas'(!) initial ride of the day. Nora enjoyed being on the train and clapped when everyone else clapped, though I'm not sure she knew what she was clapping about... After the train we had our picture taken with Thomas(!), played at the train table, listened to a man sing songs from my parent's youth and ate cheese fries and soft pretzels. We also took a ride on a trolley thingy and walked trough a train car that had been decked out as a museum/pro-coal propaganda tank. We met with Bari and her family and enjoyed spending time with them as well as Thomas(!) pulled in and out of the station.

All in all, it was a pretty great morning, there were few bad lines (except for the donuts!) and no traffic in or out of the event. I was glad we had faced my fears, paid the money, and experienced something that Nora is still talking about a week later. It was nice to have a morning as a family and to make some memories. I'm so glad Bari got in touch.

And by the way, here's her take on the day.

Listen, I've been busy!

2011-11-24T07:32:00.000-08:00

So it's been over two months since I lasted posted and I swear, there's a good reason. Or several. The truth of it is, I've been super, super busy and fairly uninspired. And I've been keeping a secret, which I'm pretty sure is my least favorite thing to do.

Here's a brief recap of things that have happened or have been happening since I last posted:

I've been working full-time.
Sam's been working full-time AND coaching.
I started an on-line grad class through Penn State which I quickly found out was completely beyond me.
We started looking into a nanny-share because kid sick-days are a pretty big problem for two working parents with no family in town.
The nanny was supposed to start October 3, but it didn't work out. Nora got strep November 1. Now the nanny is supposed to start December 5.
I've had several weekend work events.
And I've been growing a baby which has necessitated an increased amount of time and focus to be dedicated to eating.
And Sam's grandmother, Nora's Savta, stopped her cancer treatments and died several weeks later. This was a huge blow to our family and one we are still sorting out.

So that's where we've been and what we've been up to. I think I'm back in the game now. But we'll see.

ABCDance

2011-11-18T07:41:00.000-08:00

Interview

2011-11-15T19:21:00.000-08:00

We Need Some Silliness

2011-11-15T17:41:00.000-08:00

Pulling it Together

2011-09-10T04:37:00.000-07:00

I am anxious about September 11, 2011. I think it's best to just admit it because not admitting it hasn't made my anxiety go away.

Way back at the beginning of 2011 I told Sam that I wanted to make sure we did something together, as a family, and preferably quiet and outdoors to mark the 10th anniversary of the terror attacks. We had decided we didn't want to go back to New York on that day and I had envisioned an easy family hike in a state park near our house. But then, several months ago, Sam agreed to teach in the local Religious (Sunday) School and I signed Nora up for the Early Childhood program at the synagogue and then we found out the first day for both would be on Sunday, September 11th. I wasn't happy about it and I'm still not happy about it, but it is important to me that I try as much as possible not to pass on my anxiety to Nora. I want religious school to be a good experience for her and having a basket-case of a mother on the first day won't help.

Then, on Tuesday of this week, I attended the Morning Meeting that is held daily at the school where I work. I don't go every day, but I had some announcements I needed to make. I was unprepared for a teacher to get up on the stage and read the entirety of a Peggy Noonan column from September 2008 about how people had moved on from "September 11th." Tears streamed down my face, my pulse quickened, I looked towards the exits -- I couldn't get out without causing a stir. I was not crying because the column made me sad, I could barely hear the words being read; I was crying because just the thought of September 11th destroyed me. I realized how fragile I still was. And I realized how far from New York I was.

No one in New York would get up on a stage, surrounded by 200 teenagers and read an article about how someone else was processing September 11th. If nothing else New Yorkers pride themselves on being there and living to tell their own tale, not someone else's. So I cried.

And I cried because I realized holding it together for Nora's benefit on the first day of religious school was going to be harder, not easier, than as I had hoped. And I cried because in many ways, I needed to cry. I needed to weep for what happened on that day, for what I saw. But I also knew that being strong for Nora was, if not more important, more urgent. And that, I will admit, made me mad. Not at her, and not because I had her, but because the double edge sword of being a mom meant there was something more important than my very real need to cry.

I handed my announcements to my boss and told him he could make them if he wanted. I left the meeting as soon as it was dismissed.

The next day, Wednesday, was the beginning of the big rains here. I happened to be in our lower school when buses started coming early to pick up students who lived far away. I will not go into too much detail because it is not fair, but I will say there was a basket case of a parent and two basket cases of children who were all responding, in my opinion, completely inappropriately to the fact that school was getting out early due to the threat of flooding (which, to be fair, turned out to be a very real threat). It was then that it hit me with certainty that it is now my very real responsibility NOT to be a basket case. I wasn't at all angry about this like I had been the day before. Watching what I saw transpire in that hallway convinced me, and left no room for pouting (which is essentially what I had been doing the day before), that while I may have very real feelings of loss and sadness wrapped up in that day and this anniversary, I can make time to honor them on my own.

Am I upset that Sam can't take Nora to her first day of religious school and let me have some time on my own? Sure. Am I upset the first day had to be that day? Yes. But now I know that tomorrow, at least from 9:45am - Noon, I am "Nora's mother," not "former New Yorker" and I will not be a basket case. I'm not sure I can stay true to that, but I know I need to try.

Water, Water Everywhere But Not a Drop to Drink ... Seriously

2011-09-10T04:22:00.000-07:00

So Thursday we had a "Rain Day," which is like a Snow Day except it's because of rain. There was massive flooding throughout Central PA - so much so that the weather maps didn't have a color to denote how much rain had fallen, it was literally "off the charts." They say the rivers have risen more than any other time since Agnes in 1972. Climate change is real people, but that's not what this is about...

Sam and I stayed home with Nora for a day of playing, relaxing, dancing, jumping and PEEING IN THE POTTY! It seemed fitting that on a day we got to stay home because of flooding, Nora peed in the potty for the first time. And then, the next morning, she did it again! She's very private about it. She kicks us out of the bathroom so that she can take care of business but then she LOVES to celebrate with us and get her M&M (yes, we're bribing her, or you could say rewarding her ... let's just say encouraging her...). Very exciting stuff around here.

In other water related news, we did get some water in basement, but we expected it and were mostly prepared. Nothing was in the space that takes on water and therefore nothing got wet. The water made it's way to the drain, which is why it is there, so that part worked out. The only really annoying thing is that we are on a "boil water" alert which is something I've heard of before but I've never had to deal with. It's not fun, but it's not the worst thing that could happen. We never lost power, none of our "things" are ruined and we all safe and sound. And we're peeing in the potty!

Memories

2011-09-05T04:14:00.001-07:00

The other day I told my boss about one of the (many) hilarious things Nora had said recently.

Jose (janitor at day care): You're beautiful.
Nora: I'm not beautiful! I'm Nora! My hair is beautiful!

My boss told me to get a journal and keep track of all those funny things.

I have a blog! I said. Which got me thinking...

This blog started as a way to keep track of things that were happening in Nora's life and to share all about Nora with friends and family who were far away. Then it sort of morphed into a way for me to vent and share how hard I thought motherhood was. Now, we're mostly back to keeping track of things as this has become a stand-in for a baby-book. But as Nora starts to have memories of her own, I've started thinking more about what she will remember about her childhood and that has me thinking about my own first memories.

I think I have posted here before about what is likely one of my earliest memories: when I didn't want to take a nap and my dad (on the phone from work) told me if I put a dish of milk outside on the porch, while I was asleep a kittie would come and lick it up and it would be empty after my nap. Why this would help me sleep and wouldn't keep me up waiting for the kittie, I have no idea, but I know it is one of my earliest memories because it was before we had a cat of our own (and because I was refusing a nap!).

I have several other memories from my nursery school days (when I was when I was 2-4) including a strange memory of washing my hands, bobbing for apples, a bizarre piece of "playground" equipment that was kept inside (two ladders and a mat covered "bridge" between them), and the day my friends were telling me that my mom was there to pick me up and I got upset because I couldn't see her but really my friends had confused my mom with my friend Sophie's mom and HER mom was there to pick her up, not mine. I have a couple of other memories from that time period from summer camp including one about molasses, but that one's pretty vague.

All of this is to say, now that Nora is exhibiting signs of "memory" (like accurately telling us about things that happen at school), I am eager to find out what strange little nuggets get lodged in her head. I don't think she'll remember anything of LA, and I doubt she'll remember Olde Hickory, but I think she may remember her trip to Dutch Wonderland with Uncle Matt or maybe jumping on the "umbrella" at Cherry Crest Adventure Farm. Possibly her first Barnstormers baseball game (9/3/11) or the first time she pooped (near, not) in her toilet (9/4/11)? Let's hope she doesn't remember the horrible period (thankfully recently ended) when she said "I dunno" before answering any question!

Seven Years

2011-08-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

This is a picture from August 29, 2004:

This is a picture from August 27, 2011:

Sam and I, Nora Bear's parents, have been married for seven years today. What does seven years mean? Well, it doesn't mean it's time for a copper or brass plaque, a wool sweater, or a desk set. And, thankfully, nobody has a seven year itch. Mostly what it means, as SMS told me this weekend, is we've put in seven years of hard work, which he also informed is a biblical reference. And I would agree, it's been a lot of hard work, but also many rewards, several surprises and much happiness.

The biggest surprise for me: Sam the Father. The truth is, you don't know what kind of parent you're marrying. How could you? Or let me put it this way: I didn't. How could I? It is no secret that I was completely unprepared for parenthood, or at least it felt that way. And although I don't speak for Sam, from my vantage point he appeared to be in the same boat. But two years later I can honestly say I'm married to one of the best parents I have ever seen and certainly the best partner there could ever be for me. Sure, in the beginning, we struggled with the division of labor, but now, when I look at my husband I see a true partner and a true co-parent. My husband is a man who dresses my daughter better than I do and who can change a diaper in half the time. When I watch Nora attack Sam with a "good squeeze hug" and a "special kiss," or when I watch him chase, catch and tickle her, I see truly unadulterated love that I don't think I knew existed before we had a child. I know our marriage is more than parenting, but right now that takes up most of our time, energy and focus. I am so glad we are finding a way to do it cooperatively and I am so happy to be doing it with Sam.

Nora Bear and I are very, very luck. YEA ABBA!

And around this corner...

2011-08-19T18:21:00.000-07:00

Part 1
Last Saturday we turned another corner with Nora - a beautiful, glorious corner. As with every major development we have shared since we three have been together these last 2+ years, we didn't see it coming and we weren't sure what was next, but this was a special corner. Nora, who had been kicking our butts for several months (20mos. - 26mos.?) with extreme neediness, stubbornness and horrible impulse control, woke up last Saturday morning with a new attitude, a sweetness that is beyond compare and patience!

At first, I thought this change was cause for concern. (Yup, that's me, my grandmother's negative granddaughter!) I was worried that her pleasant behavior was a result of the fact that Sam was away for a long weekend. I was concerned that maybe Nora would always be better behaved when she was alone with one of us and we would have to figure out some co-parenting arrangement where Sam and I were never together in the same room with her! But upon Sam's return, she remained sweet, kind, patient and funny. She continues to learn what makes us laugh and she's working hard on her timing. This week she actually waited in the doorway of the garage for me while I took care of some things, just because I asked her to. It was revolutionary. And she's back to being able to play quietly by herself while I'm in another room of the house - something she hasn't done since the move. In fact, I was actually able to take a few showers while Sam was gone.

This change has been huge, welcome and indicative of parenting for me. Just when you can't take something any longer, you get a small reprieve and then it's hard to remember what it was like before the change. It's strange to me that given how often this has happened (with sleep issues, with teething issues, with food issues, with developmental leaps), I still haven't learned to internalize it. Every time I'm about to lose my mind I forget that there's another corner coming and what is on the other side will be completely unexpected. I suppose one day I'll learn this lesson, but I suppose by then it will likely be moot.

Part 2
A few weeks ago Nora and I were leaving day care (she was walking next to me holding my hand) while the school aged summer kids were waiting to go out to the playground. As we walked by a line of about 20 of them, 4 or 5 girls, around the ages of 7-9, crouched down, reached out their arms and began a chorus of "Can I have a hug Nora?!" It was overwhelming for me and I'm a foot taller than they are. And they weren't cooing my name. I looked down at Nora to see how she was responding to it and she looked up at me and said, "I don't want to give hug, Momma."

"Ok," I said and we continued to walk outside. When we were a few feet away from the center I picked Nora up and said, "I have something very important to tell you. Can you listen to me?"

She nodded.

"You never have to hug anyone you don't want to hug. Momma and Abba will never be mad at you if you don't want to hug someone. Do you understand me?"

She nodded again and gave me a look that I have recently become familiar with. It said: "I'm not sure what you're telling me, but whatever it is I know you're serious."

I didn't want to scare her, so to lighten the mood I said, "Can I have a kiss?"

And she happily kissed me and we continued on our way to the car.

The enormity of this conversation took a few days to hit me. I kept replaying it in my head and trying to work out my feelings about it. I wanted to protect her; I wanted to give her power to protect herself, but in some ways I feel that way every day - this was decidedly different. And then I finally realized what was so meaningful about it: I realized that if I didn't stop to teacher her that lesson, no one would. Or, more appropriately, I realized that while Nora has teachers and will have friends and other adults who will influence her, whether it seems like it in the moment or not, Sam and I are "it." We will likely (hopefully!) have the most profound impact on her and it is our job to teach in every teachable moment that arises. It is our jobs to transmit values by what we say and what we do, our job to put down a healthy and solid foundation which will help her handle everything else that may come flying at her, even when we're not around.

It was a huge realization that has made me tear-up on the occasions of retelling it this week. And like the corners before it (see Part 1, above), I wasn't prepared for it, but since it has crystallized in my mind, I can no longer imagine a time before I felt this way - before I knew this to be true.

The Hits Keep On Coming...

2011-08-10T18:07:00.000-07:00

There's too much going on to write a real post but Nora is saying things that must be heard... Here are some gems:

"Bunny is my best friend," says Nora.
"Who is my best friend?" I ask.
"Abba!" says Nora.
"Who is Abba's best friend?" I ask.
"You, Momma!"

******
"I cry at skewl because Momma goes to work and running." Thanks Nora.

*******
Nora to our neighbor: "You have boobs like my momma."

*******
Upon my arrival to pick her up at skewl today one of the teachers asked me, "Do you really have a baby in your belly?"
Me: "Uh, no!"
Teacher: "Nora told us that this morning and I told her you were too skinny."
Me: "Bless you."

*******
Sam and I were trying to take a quiet moment together on the couch and Nora walked up to us and said, "Hello Guys!"

*******
She has also been talking directly to her stuffed animals, saying things like, "No bunny, you don't get chocolate milk, I get chocolate milk." She also seems to answer questions they've asked but that we can't hear.

*******
There has also been a liberal use of "Yup."

*******
Her imagination has just really blossomed in the last few weeks and it's amazing to watch and listen to her stories. I'm just sorry I'm too tired to write them all down.

Bedtime....?

2011-08-07T04:47:00.000-07:00

Playing in the Rain

2011-07-28T17:32:00.000-07:00

If Only

2011-07-24T11:49:00.000-07:00

If only every Sunday were like today. Nora is in the most amazing mood today - at least she was this morning and I hope it continues this evening. She's been such a ball of whiny, two-ness that I almost forgot what it was like to have a day like today. She listened. She ate (mostly). She drank. She played quietly by herself and stopped moving long enough for me to read a few books to her. She even slept until 7am AND she went down for her nap with no trouble. It was alarmingly nice and I hope there is more of it in the future. I'm telling you, today was AH-MAZ-ING.

To be fair, even though she has been a little bit TWO lately, she's also doing some pretty amazing things all around. I understand 99% of what comes out of her mouth and about 75% of it makes perfect sense. Her sentences are LONG, her tenses are frequently accurate and she's started to recount events in correct sequences and with context. It's quite lovely to have conversations with her these days.

She is not thrilled with the fact that I am working full-time now, nor is she thrilled that she's done with the pacifier, but we're managing both situations quite well. She's spending Tuesdays and Fridays on "Adventures with Abba" and that is going well, too. She has taken a moment to say "I'm mad because Momma goes to work" on a few occasions which is terribly heartbreaking but also impressive for her age.

Last weekend our family flooded Lancaster for a (belated) celebration of Nora's second birthday and a housewarming open house. It was so nice to see her interacting with her grandparents, great grandmother and aunt. Sam's grandmother got to see her dancing around the bima on Tot Shabbat and we got to see her lapping up the affection the family lavished on her. One of the prime reasons we moved east was so that Nora would know her family and they would know her - it was a thrill to see that realized.

This weekend we had an all too brief visit from Auntie Lindsay and Sam and I had a date - we went to a new-to-us restaurant and we played mini-golf for the first time in our entire almost 13-year long relationship. It was a blast.

Nora is sleeping now and when she wakes up we'll go to Loo-Cass's - here's hoping for an evening as nice as the morning.

Pacifier Woes...

2011-07-09T17:27:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in the last post, Nora was (slightly) unexpectedly "moved up" last week and while we were happy to have her moving on up, we weren't prepared for some of the changes, especially the end of the "fier."

We tried to take her "fier" away a few months after we arrived in Lancaster, but it didn't go well. She was about 16-months old and from what I remember she would ask for a banana every time I put her to bed but she wouldn't eat it, she'd just play with it. After a few nights I figured it wasn't worth it and I gave up.

Cut to last Wednesday when SMS and I were on a day-trip to Baltimore and we got a text that the kids in the two-year-old room (now being referred to as "Nursery School") don't use pacifiers. They said they would let N use hers if we wanted them to, but that they would like to put her down without one. I wished them luck.

Well, low and behold, she took a nap without her fier. That night it took me quite a while to get her to go to sleep without it and she did wake up at 3am and I had to go comfort her for the first time in a long time, but for the most part, she slept. Thursday she again took a nap at day care without her fier, though we did get a report that she asked for it pretty insistently. Thursday night she went to bed a bit more easily and didn't wake during the night. As of Friday morning it seemed we were in good shape - she even took a nap on Friday at home without her fier! The only hiccup was a slightly earlier wake-up time: between 6am and 6:30am instead of 7am, which was a new, later wake-up time for her since the move, but beyond that, it seemed we were in the clear ... until Saturday.

Saturday was one of those days that makes me want to gauge my own eyes out. Nora was generally cranky (though no more than usual though, lots of: "No, No, No," "Mine, Mine, Mine," and "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!") but Sam took her to the playground in the morning and we gave her some yummy lunch when they got home. Then, for an hour and twenty minutes we tried to get her to take a nap. Not pretty. Not pretty at all. None of the usual tricks were working and while she wasn't pleading for her pacifier, she really didn't want me to leave the room - and I desperately needed a nap of my own...

We had two parties to attend that afternoon/evening and the outlook wasn't good...

Though we did not give in and give her her fier, we did give up. We got ourselves ready for the party and loaded up the car. We figured if she fell asleep in the car, we would drive around for a bit and if she didn't, the kids at the other party would distract her enough so that we could enjoy some adult company for a little bit. The latter worked, for the most part.

We didn't make it to the second party, but even on a good day that could have been a stretch, so we brought her home, topped her off with some dinner and attempted to get her down for the night. About 40-minutes of screaming/crying/gagging followed and was finally ended when Sam told her a made-up story about his childhood while I was rubbing her back. She slept all night, woke up a little early and after a fantastic morning at the Marietta's farmer's market (such a nice place!) she is back to sleep for a nap, no fier, no problem. Could we be through the looking glass and out the other side? Only time will tell....

Nursery School?!

2011-07-06T17:50:00.000-07:00

Last month, right around Nora's second birthday, skewl wanted to move her up to the next room, but we were busy moving into our new house so we asked them to delay it a bit. They do these things in a pretty scheduled way so we thought her next chance to move up would be August. While we weren't thrilled about that (in many ways she is long past needing to move up), it was important to us that her routines not change too much during our big move and we didn't want to separate her from her favorite teacher (and babysitter), T. But as it turns out, last week T was on vacation and Nora did quite well without her, so Sam had the brilliant idea that we move her up this week. We asked, they obliged and poof, today Nora started Nursery School!

Seem like we skipped a step, didn't we? As far as I was concerned, she was moving from the "one-year-old" room to the "two-year-old" room, or from the "young toddler" room to the "older toddler" room. That's how I had always heard the rooms referred to and that's how I thought of them. But today, upon dropping Nora off, I was handed a piece of paper welcoming us to Nursery School. Say What?! Just this weekend Sam and I had been discussing all the ways in which Nora is like a little kid and not a baby anymore (even though she's really still 90% dependent on us, she wishes she weren't and tries to do most everything on her own), but Nursery School?!

According to Wikipedia, Nursery School is for kids three to five... I know, I know, Wikipedia is not a cite-able source, (luckily I'm not writing a term paper here) but still, I think they might be right on this one ... Anyway, it was too late to turn back and this morning, without much warning, Nora started Nursery School.

And what did Sam and I do?
We went to Baltimore.

For Lunch.

Because we could.

Haven't you heard? Our kid is in Nursery School!

And, by the way, look what we found while we were there:

"So how did her first day go?" you ask.

Great!

Highlights: She took a nap without her pacifier (yup - no "fiers" in Nursery School) and she fell in the toilet!

"OMG," you say, "she fell in the toliet?! That can't be good!"

Well then you don't know Nora Grace!

She thought it was the funniest thing ever and made sure to tell T, her old teacher, and upon our arrival for pick-up, she made sure to announce it to us as well. "I went pee in the potty (a lie, more about this later)! I fell in the potty (true)!" Indeed, it was a very exciting day.

And if you still doubt how fast she's growing up, this is what she looked like when I took her to school:

And this was how she looked when we picked her up:

These aren't even her clothes! It seems her "spare clothes" were for winter (mother of the year!) so after the toilet incident they had to put her in loaner-clothes. There's nothing like seeing your daughter in clothes you've never seen before to drive home the point that she's growing up - it's as if she's gone to the mall and picked out and paid for a new outfit all on her own. And while that is certainly not the case (yet!) she did say the following VERY GROWN UP sentence tonight:

"Abba, can I have a paper towel to clean up the table, please?"

Amazing, right? She's a total piece of work.

But about the aforementioned lying... While it is comical, and probably age appropriate, it is a little troublesome. A common lie goes something like this:
"Nora, do you need a new diaper?"
"No, Abba just changed me."
"Abba isn't home."
"He just changed me."

Well, at least she's not good at lying. Yet.

New Kitchen

2011-06-30T11:12:00.001-07:00

Table and Chairs

2011-06-23T15:10:00.000-07:00

Swimming Pool at Bubby and Poppa's

2011-06-21T16:54:00.000-07:00

Notes from the Grocery Store

2011-06-17T17:24:00.000-07:00

Today Nora and I took our first trip to the local Giant.

(BTW - every time I go to a Giant I can't help but think (#1) about the Giant behind Mason where I bought tons of ramen noodle, pasta, tomato sauce and frozen garlic bread and (#2) the fact that "Giant" is not "Giant Eagle.")

The grocery store is a great place to find out what kind of neighborhood you moved into. See, for those of you unfamiliar with this part of the country, you probably think Lancaster is the sticks, but actually, Lancaster has quite a hip, happening, historic downtown area that's positively urban, if small. We've just moved from a fairly close-in suburb to what my dad would have called BFE. Now to be fair, it's getting more suburban. There's a K-Mart but no Target. There's a Rita's and a putt-putt, but there are also manufacturing and office parks. Mostly though there is beautiful farmland surrounding our very suburban looking development.

The first thing I notice in the grocery store is that many of the staples we have been buying at our old Giant are 10 - 40 cents cheaper at our new Giant! This clues me in to the fact that maybe we moved further out than I thought we did. The next thing I notice is how old the patrons are. Not a lot of stay-at-home-yuppie-mom types that one would find at our old Giant! I also notice that though most of the Giants near our old place have recently been renovated, this Giant is a little out of date - especially the lighting which reminds me of the Hills Dept Store in Harmarville circa 1983. I know it sounds like I'm complaining, but I'm really not, I'm just observing. I don't think I was really aware how much of a difference a few miles could make, especially because the three Giants I frequented in our old neighborhood all seemed pretty much the same to me.

Onto the food ... in our old Giant there were two full aisles dedicated to organic products (rice, eggs, cheese, cereal, milk, etc.) and in this Giant there is a corner. Literally a corner and while there is a cooler for milk, there is no dairy case that at the old store holds much of what I buy for Nora's lunches. I was pleasantly surprised that I was able to find most of the organic items throughout the store so it wasn't too much of a letdown (and everything I did find was cheaper!) but I did have an interesting conversation with the store manager who very graciously offered to get in stock anything we needed. When I asked him where I might find "Smart Dogs" (aka vegetarian/soy hot dogs) he directed me to a case by the produce section where they kept all of the "non-traditional" food. So it occurred to me that while some of you may think we've gone soft moving out to BFE PA, we will probably always be a little non-traditional for these parts - and I'm totally ok with that!

So after filling our cart with enough groceries to completely stock our gorgeous "new to us (came with the house)" fridge we were waiting to check out when the lady in front of us turned to me and said, "Does she go to {INSERT NAME OF NORA'S DAY CARE HERE}?"

"Yes," I said.

The lady then said, "My kids go there but they're older than Nora, I just always notice her because she is so beautiful."

Well, be still my beating heart, Nora has a fan club in BFE. My dad would be so proud!

Moving... The Ultimate Staycation

2011-06-16T18:08:00.000-07:00

Staycations are all the rage now aren't they? You want a staycation that's almost like the real thing? Try moving! Here are all the ways our past week has been just like a little vacation:

We didn't go to work.
We packed, and packed, and packed, and packed!
We ate out, a lot - and not just at restaurants - we had wonderful dinner play-dates with great friends and we also did some take-out.
We got to sleep in a new place - a sparkling clean place at that!
We're exploring our town in an effort to keep Nora busy and out of the boxes.
... And I've been spending like crazy - because who doesn't need two silverware holders?

This staycation is the best! With the money we saved on flights and a hotel we hired some movers and bought a house. Go us!

Here are some pics from our adventure today: Family Farm Days at Oregon Dairy. Nora played with baby chicks, petted a baby cow, rode in a barrel that was pulled by a tractor, attempted to go through a hay maze, climbed on a tractor, drank dairy fresh chocolate milk and, her personal favorite: played in a "corn box" - like a sand box but with huge kernels of dried corn instead of sand. All of this cost $2 (for the tractor ride) - free entrance, free parking, no traffic and really, really nice people.

After we left the dairy we stopped to pick up sushi - Nora ate her first california roll and loved it! She also sang "Broken Bells" to us the whole way home and "danced" in the car seat for our entertainment - video to come. Good times. Good times.

Nora's Second Birthday, 6/12/11

2011-06-13T04:10:00.000-07:00

Turning Two Dutch Wonderland Style

2011-06-12T16:45:00.000-07:00

Today was Nora's second birthday. Although we won't be celebrating with family for several weeks, we made the most of today by taking the Birthday Princess to Dutch Wonderland.

I highly, highly, highly recommend Dutch Wonderland for families with kids between 2-years-old and 6 or 7. And, if you can believe it, this recommendation is coming from someone who doesn't like crowds and hates to wait in line! (I usually don't go places unless I'm on the list.)

Now, to be fair, we've only been once so I can't say if what we experienced today was normal, but if not, we really lucked out. The weather forecast did not look promising, but this actually heartened me. I figured the possibility of thunderstorms and some early morning fog/cloud cover would keep the larger crowds away and either I was right, or it really pays to get there right when they open at 10am. We didn't wait in lines to get in, to get on rides or for food; the walkways were not crowded and everyone was extremely pleasant and well-behaved. I'm not sure who had more fun, me or Nora!

As I hope this trip will be an annual birthday tradition, I thought it would be a good idea to catalog what Nora liked and didn't like as I way of keeping track over the years. So here goes:

When we arrived we got Nora a sticker that said "It's my birthday!" We also got her a wristband so she could drink all the alcohol she wanted. Just kidding! The wristband was a "lost child" bracelet and we were able to write our cell phone number on it and then attach it to her in case she wondered off. Morbid? Slightly. Brilliant? Yes!

Then we took a train ride around the park to get a feel for its size and scope. The train was just like the one I used to ride at the Pittsburgh Zoo, complete with an Indian pained on the side of each car. She loved it so much - I thought if nothing else went right the rest of the day, at least we took her on a fun, if not pricey, train ride. I loved that instead of staying on my lap she sandwiched herself between us on the bench, like a big girl. I remember the extremely safe feeling of mushing myself between my parents and I could tell Nora was having the same feeling.

As we traveled on the train through the park, I was amazed at how much Dutch Wonderland reminded me of Kennywood, which of course made me happy, but scaled down for little people just like Storybook Forest, which I also remember fondly. It also reminded me of Enchanted Forest in Old Forge, New York which I went to with my summer camp back in the early 1990s. I was so excited to be doing something with Nora on her birthday that made her so happy, and that Sam and I were able to enjoy, too.

After the train we went on the Merry-Go-Round - I was hoping Nora would enjoy it more than she enjoyed the Merry-Go-Round at Kennywood last year, but no such luck. Maybe she just thinks that every time she goes on a Merry-Go-Round she has to move, and to be fair, judging from past experiences, she would have every right to think this...

After the train she drove on The Turnpike - another Kennywood throwback - twice, once with Momma and once with Abba and then we went to meet a princess and hear her read a story.

Nora liked the picture of the princess more than she liked the real princess...

She couldn't really sit through storytime (even though a "real live" princess was reading the story!) so she went on the nearby wiggle rider, which she couldn't really figure out and then we stopped for some fries at the Potato Patch (not as good as Kennywood's, but not half bad!).

After lunch we took a walk to to look for a boat ride, but the thunderstorms this morning had flooded the creek and they were closed for maintenance. We did find some ducks, geese and baby ducks though and Nora had fun walking with them, though they did some hissing at us.

Once we realized there would be no boats, we headed to the BIG SLIDE, the kind where you sit on burlap sacks. This was a BIG HIT and also reminded me of being a kid and riding the BIG SLIDE with my parents and our friend Jay. Nora LOVED the BIG SLIDE as did I. I did not love lugging her up the steps three times and I gained a new appreciation for everything my parents have done for me. I'm pretty sure I was lugged many, many places in my childhood!

After the BIG SLIDE we took some silly pictures and she took another spin on The Turnpike and then we watched some creepy animatronic animals with instruments play and sing and sway robotically (not pictured). Strangely, she loved that!

Although she didn't want to leave, she was too tired (and a little hot and sweaty) to fight it, so we made our way to car shortly after 12:30 and a good long nap was had as soon as we came home.

I loved our morning at Dutch Wonderland as did Nora but I think she may have loved dinner even more. After her nap we went across the street to have dinner and cupcakes (and potato chips and cookies!) with Missa, Loo-KISS, Keg and Timmy.

It is such a joy to have such good friends so close by and on that front we are very sorry to be MOVING ON TUESDAY but on all other fronts we are very excited!

I hope never to move again, but if we do, I hope it's not the same week as Nora's birthday. That said, if you have kids aged 2-7, GET YE TO DUTCH WONDERLAND and let us know, we'll meet you there!

Nora at Dutch Wonderland

2011-06-12T13:22:00.001-07:00

Nora celebrates her second birthday at Dutch Wonderland, Lancaster, PA.

>

Limbo

2011-06-08T18:13:00.000-07:00

It's Wednesday night, the truck comes Tuesday morning. I vacilate between thinking we're in really good shape and thinking we're in pretty bad shape. It's had to say. As this is a local move, and the first local move we've done with a car (the rest have been in NYC where once we were able to borrow a car, but it was still a one-day affair), it's hard to say how it's going to go. I know the movers will come on Tuesday and take all the furniture and any box that's been sealed. What I don't know is how much will be left to move after that. I'm hoping three trips. It could be a lot more. There are people who think I'm crazy and I should just have everything packed up and ready to go as if it were a long distance move, but here's the thing: packing it all up now has its down-side, too. For example, had I already packed the bathroom, I wouldn't have had neosporen and bandaids handy when Nora got a boo-boo yesterday. And forget about packing her toys or books, who knows when she'll NEED what and that could be a whole-house disaster! So we're in limbo and we're hanging out here as the boom gets lower and lower. It will all get done, I'm just not sure how.

In other news, Nora told her first full sentence lie tonight. We were at our friends' J+O+M+G who graciously took us in as a diversion from "packing." We were playing downstairs and Nora made a break for upstairs. When SMS went to get her off the stairs she looked at him and said, "Momma told me to come upstairs." No, no I did not.

Other than that she's being particularly sweet and particularly funny lately, which is tons of fun. She is sleeping, but with the changes and crazy schedule that's coming up, I'm prepared to lose a little sleep. Looking ahead there's her birthday, the move, SMS' trip to NY which coincides with a visit from my mom and British Doula, then my trip to NYC, her 2-year check-up (with shots, I assume), a trip to PGH and the start of my new job. Needless to say, between June 12 and July 12, all bets are off and we hope for the best! Here we come, Crazy Summer 2011!

Boo-Boos and Boobies

2011-06-07T16:46:00.000-07:00

Nora's teacher is pregnant. "There's a baby in there!" she says. Then sometimes she points to my boobs, which are (thankfully!) bigger than my tummy and says, "Baby in there?"
I say, "No, no baby in there."
She is very excited about her teacher's baby.

Nora has a boo-boo on her knee.
She is very excited about her boo-boo, but sometimes she calls it her "boobies."
"My boobies hurt!" she says.
"Where's your booby?" I ask her.
Nora points to her knee.

Recently Nora discovered the difference between her belly and her chest. She points to her tummy and she says "Belly!" and she points chest, just below her collar bone and says, "Chest!"

And then, tonight in the bath, she said, "Momma, you don't have boobies on your chest."

I thought this was a strange thing to say.
Did she mean a boo-boo? No, I didn't have a boo-boo on my chest.
Did she mean boobies? I have boobies.

I didn't know what to say, so I said, "Really?"
"Yes," she said, "you have boobies on your belly!"

Yes, I suppose I do. No thanks to you, my sweet Nora, no thanks to you.

Red Rose Run Stomp Dance

2011-06-06T04:53:00.000-07:00

Nora stomps to Sweet Home Alabama after the Red Rose Run this past Saturday.

Who Do You Love

2011-05-26T15:23:00.000-07:00

The Move (again).

2011-05-23T16:54:00.000-07:00

Well, the move has begun. Every so often, I take a trunk full of stuff over to the new house. Honda Civic trunks are not that big, but I am making slow progress.

What's even cooler than a garage filling up with boxes is that going over to the house a few times a week is getting me REALLY excited about living there. Here are few things I'm excited about:

Skylights!
Double sink in the kitchen
The faucet in the kitchen is one of those removable wands!
GAS STOVE! Haven't had one of these in a very long time.
The freezer is on the bottom of the fridge - not sure why I'm so excited about this, but I am.
A full-size dishwasher!
Full-size, front loading washer and dryer on the first floor - and they're not in the kitchen!
A sink in the laundry room (again, not sure why this is so exciting, but it is!)
Attached garage!
Ceiling fans (ok, I'm not excited about this, but Sam is, so I thought I'd include it)
Separate office and guest room!
SO MUCH STORAGE!
One word, three parts: Cul de Sac

I think that's it for now. Except I should say that we are really lucky the people who sold us the house decorated it really nicely and I hope we can live up to the house's standards! We never would have spent the kind of money they did on carpet and blinds and the little things that hold the toilet paper on the wall - but they did and we're going to benefit from it! Hooray!

High Chair Pasta

2011-05-22T15:52:00.000-07:00

Special Kiss

2011-05-22T15:38:00.000-07:00

A Few Pics from the Park

2011-05-09T07:59:00.000-07:00

Mother's day trip to the park with Abba.

One Month....

2011-04-24T11:55:00.000-07:00

One month is too long to go without posting! Ooops. Here's what's up:

Nora is hilarious. I've taught her to say "Law-yer" the way Bodie does in The Wire and Sam has taught her to answer the question: "Who do you love?" with an excited squeal of "Jesus!" because once they got stuck in Sunday morning church traffic and to pass the time Sam pretended to be an evangelical preacher. Good times.

Yesterday, for the first time in nearly two years, I went to change Nora in a public restroom (which to be fair, I've only done maybe five times total) and after throwing away the dirty diaper I realized there were no clean diapers in the diaper bag. I put her pants back on and taught her how to say "Abba, I'm going commando!" Needless to say, we drove right home.

I'm applying for full-time jobs but have been offered my part-time job again in the fall, though I'll have no hours in June or July and very few in May and August.

We bought a townhouse. We're supposed to close in nine days! We're planning to move in June right after Nora turns two, though we'll take possession next week and likely start moving things over slowly. Find and buying a house was not a piece of cake, but I know it could have been a lot worse. It's a messy process with a lot of unknowns. I found it to be worse than shopping for a car but not as bad as shopping for a bathing suit, for the most part. Though I supposed we're not done yet, so here's to a smooth close and easy move.

I've been running - shocker - and working on yet another project to honor my dad - you can see it here. Check it out and if you run, buy a shirt! Although I'm running, I'm not losing any weight - somehow disappointing but not a shocker. Upon complaining about this to one of my dad's runners, he reminded me I'm pushing middle age. Thanks.

And though I've been MIA from the Nora Bear website, I have been writing a great deal and I'm excited about that.

I think that's all. Except I should probably post this:

and this:

The Restaurant

2011-04-24T11:25:00.000-07:00

A Pretty Good Day

2011-03-24T17:23:00.000-07:00

Today Nora told me "I don't want grapes or yogurt, just waffle."

Today was a pretty good day which means it was WORLDS better than Tuesday. Not much to report - just thought it was important to make it known we're not totally drowning here: Nora went down without a fight and took a 90-minute nap. She also went down fairly easily for bed and our fingers are crossed.

Also, tonight in the bath, she told me "Momma Belly Big." I refrained from telling her that that big belly was HER FAULT.

It was a good day. :-)

Laughing (or screaming)

2011-03-24T16:20:00.000-07:00

Sleep and Other Things...

2011-03-22T16:34:00.000-07:00

So after the last post I heard from Nora's babysitter/daycare teacher and she had a BRILLIANT suggestion. Apparently they listen to music all through nap time at "skewl" so she suggested we try that at home, too. We did so, that very night, and we've had great success since then. We also added a box fan for some white noise, and those two things combined have help to give us our life back a bit.

She still fights sleep, and for example, today's nap was a disaster, but it's been much, much easier to get her to go down at night and she's been staying asleep, for the most part, for now. She's still waking up really early, but I love bringing her into bed with us in the morning and having her get and extra 20-minutes to an hour while lying on my chest.

While the sleep has improved, the terrible two's are increasing exponentially. She is incredibly willful, stubborn, demanding, clingy and still, hilarious. Some days I have patience and others I don't. And she has a cold, and has had it for a whole week, which is annoying to both her and me ... there is simply snot everywhere and I'm sure she's not feeling her best.

In other news, we're moving forward with buying a townhouse and tomorrow I will be playing the role of Mrs./Mr. Schindler when I sub for Sam in his second period class. All in all, life is good and I really need to stop complaining. If only I could remember that when Nora is refusing to eat, sleep, or hitting me!

The Alphabet

2011-03-16T13:25:00.000-07:00

The Office

2011-03-16T11:21:00.000-07:00

Nora gathers all the necessary items for the workday.

I Should Be Asleep Right Now....

2011-03-12T13:02:00.000-08:00

Sorry - It has been a while since I've posted. Thanks to SMS and his videos I think you all have been kept basically up to date. Nora is using full sentences most of the time. Her vocabulary is impressive and hilarious. After the turmoil that was Dec/Jan things seemed to calm down for most of February and into March. And then, we hit 21-months.

I know there is a common sleep regression in the 18-21 month range, but I thought we were done with it around the 19/20-month mark. Not so much really. It is back, and with a vengeance. We're better prepared this time - that is to say, we know not to take her out of the crib (except occasionally, when I totally cave) and I haven't had to sleep on her floor (yet), but being better prepared isn't saying all that much when you're surviving the day on 4-hours of sleep. And this time, unlike a few months ago, she has added refusing naps to being hard to put down and waking up at ungodly hours. Lo Tov, as my friends in LA would say, Lo Tov.

There are a number of things likely contributing to this, though I now accept we'll never know for sure, so in some ways, what does it matter?! That said here are some things that might be at play:

For three weekends in a row, Nora was out of her regular routine - the first weekend SMS went to his parents for a night, the second weekend SMS and I went to Brooklyn and my mom stayed here with Nora and the following weekend SMS took Nora to his parents. She actually did mostly fine all of those nights, but the combination of them may be having some residual effects.
This past week, when the sleep really got bad, coincided with SMS' Spring Break (really sucks for him) and having both me and SMS around all week may have been a little disorienting for her. She certainly seemed to be doing a lot of showing off!
There's a new baby in the "family" - Lucas has a baby brother, Timmy, who we all adore, but who knows what that has triggered in Nora.
There's been a clear expression of separation anxiety - she's been harder to drop off at daycare in the morning (even though they assure me she's fine the rest of the day and she's even been sleeping there!), and she's been extremely clingy with me and demanding of my attention. All completely normal, but man, is it exhausting on MANY levels.
And then there's "the terrible two's." She has really been exerting her independence in all sorts of crazy ways - specifically not eating things she clearly loves and/or chewing her food and then spitting it out or being generally non-compliant with things that SMS and I ask her to do or tell her not to do. There's been lots of testing going on in this house and in general, though I know it's all normal, it doesn't really feel like SMS' and I have been making the grade.
Also, I refuse to rule out teething as she has been putting her hands in her mouth a ton - are there two year molars?!

So I've just spent an hour and twenty minutes trying to convince her to take a nap. She's actually asleep, but who knows for how long and I'm spent but probably too on edge to close my eyes... and oh yea, we had an offer accepted on a house yesterday so now we have that to deal with! I'm sure we'll have this whole sleep thing worked out just in time for the move to mess it all up!!!

It Always Ends With Spinning

2011-03-09T06:59:00.000-08:00

Evening Chat

2011-03-07T11:45:00.000-08:00

Crib Friends

2011-03-02T12:45:00.000-08:00

Reading for Bubby

2011-02-26T08:06:00.000-08:00

My Child is a Genius!

2011-02-08T08:50:00.000-08:00

We are starting to come out of the haze (fingers crossed!) that was "The Holidays - The Great Sleep Disturbance of 2010/2011 - The Day Care Plague - Pneumonia - TIMUN/Amsterdam - New Job for Jamie - Really Bad Roads - etc." and things feel like they are calming down a bit. Thanks to Sam for posting videos in the absence of any updates from me. But now back to business:

Nora knows her colors! And if you have been following the blog, you know she reads now, too. Not really, but it's pretty spooky how she matches up the words and sounds with the right pages! She has a few favorite books, some we love (Global Babies and God's Paintbrush) and some we don't love so much (Best Friends and Goofy Baby) but just the fact that she loves her books makes me happy! Watching her "read" reminds me of a story my dad told me about the day he thought I could read "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost. We had a picture book version and I had memorized all the words and where to turn the pages. He of course thought I was a genius until he handed me another book and I proceeded to recite "Stopping by the Woods..." as I turned the pages of that book!

I've been meaning to write about Nora's language acquisitionfor a while. It has been truly amazing to watch and I now understand why every parent thinks their child is a genius. Back in December I read a fact on the wall at the Manhattan Children Museum that said something like "between 18-months and 24-months toddlers learn 60 words an hour" or something crazy like that. At the time, Nora (18-months) had a pretty decent grasp on language, knew a ton of words, used them correctly and spoke gibberish with a decided cadence that sounded like we should know what she was saying even when we didn't. In the last two weeks things have changed dramatically. The balance has shifted from being unintelligible most (or a lot of the time) to being intelligible most of the time. She frequently says three- and four- word sentences, even if the word order isn't perfect. As her Bubby put it a few weeks ago, "She talks so well these days that when she starts babbling, it's almost alarming that you can't understand her."

I had a day with Nora last week when I understood everything she said the entire day. It was sort of unremarkable when it was happening but when I looked back on it with Sam that night I decided it was amazing and also a little sad. We love her babbling! And the way she mis-pronounces things like "Pan-DAN-da," "Oranch," and "Bana." But she won't say those things forever and I know that's for the best, but it will be sad when she realizes that a PanDANda is actually a Panda.

In other news, she's been running and spinning and climbing a lot which is fun to watch. She can go upstairs all by herself (which is currently driving me crazy) and is pretty good at getting downstairs, too. Just in the last week or so she has figured out how (and is tall enough!) to open door handles in some of our rooms and she is now able to get off our super high mattress by herself, though I think it still may be years before she can climb up it!

All in all, we're having fun and feel very lucky to have such a pleasant, funny, silly, pretty, smart little girl. Have I mentioned she's a genius?!

Reading

2011-02-06T13:40:00.000-08:00

The CM

2011-02-02T12:33:00.000-08:00

Ice Day

2011-02-02T10:32:00.000-08:00

The Other Dance

2011-01-26T18:55:00.001-08:00

I've been trying to see things in a more positive light recently. I know I complain a lot. I'm just not a "glass half-full" person. I swear I come by it honestly.

I had a miserable grandmother (who I loved immensely). The joke was that if you asked her how dinner was she would say "Fine, but I don't know why they had to seat us near the kitchen, in the dark, next to the screaming child. And there was a draft."

Every once in a while I'll be talking and I'll hear her litany of complaints in the cadence of my speech. In those moments I sometimes try to pull back on the negativity but in my retreat I often become a rambling mess of qualifications and apologies. I have found it's best to nip my inner Debbie Downer in the bud or let her flow freely, there really is no middle ground. But I don't want to look back on this blog years from now (or worse yet, have Nora look back on it) and think that the past year and a half, and parenting in general, have been a miserable experience.

Parenting is hard, but it is not miserable. I'm learning things daily, and for that, I am grateful. I'm being forced to stretch and bend (both physically and metaphorically) in ways in which I never knew I was capable. Sometimes I'm really good at these new tasks, and sometimes I'm not, but overall I'm getting better at it each day.

Recently I've been complaining to anyone who would listen about Sam's trip to Holland. He's there with his students and he's sick. I'm here with Nora and we're sick. On top of that, I've started a new job and snow keeps screwing up our schedule. But all of that said, it's not so bad ... If I had a regular 9-5 office job it would be much worse. If Nora hadn't started sleeping through the night again it would be much worse. If we lived in a tiny apartment or didn't have enough to eat ... I could go on and on ... The fact is, we are really lucky and Nora is really easy to parent. I wish I didn't have to keep reminding myself of that, but I do. It's just who I am.

Also, I find it easier to write about the crap, but I'm going to try harder to also write about the good moments too, even when they seem small. Like yesterday: I got Nora to go back to sleep when she woke up too early from her nap. I've never been able to do this before and I couldn't believe that I was able to carry out Sam's successful techniques for handling this situation flawlessly. Then, when she woke up the second time, at the end of her nap, she said to me "Hiya Momma! Hiya!" and it was amazing!

There are also moments of bliss that aren't small at all, but I seem to forget to write about them in the midst of all my complaining.

Last week before Sam left we were all in the living room. It was a snowy day and, for Sam, an actual Snow Day. Sam and I were on the couch reading and Nora was playing with some toys on the floor. We were listening to WXPN when a Nick Drake song came on. I don't know what song it was, only that it WASN'T "Pink Moon" and it was on Five Leaves Left. I know this because Sam and I used to spend lazy weekend afternoons in our Butler Street apartment listening to that album on repeat. The familiarity of the song washed over me and I felt warm inside. I then noticed that Nora was dancing to the song and I began to cry (from happiness).

Nora has two dances. One is called "The Butt Dance" and it involves a lot of bouncing and some marching. It's hilarious. "The Other Dance" is more nondescript, except to say that it breaks my heart. It involves large steps and lunges with her hands in the air - sort of like slow ice dancing. It doesn't sound like much, but I assure you, it is a sight to see. It looks like the dance of someone so much older than she, with so much more understanding of the world and so much more pathos than I can comfortably believe she has right now. She was doing "The Other Dance" to Nick Drake and I thought to myself, "I love this small person more than I ever thought I could ever love anything."

And then I had another thought.

I thought again about those afternoons on Butler Street. Sam and I were in our mid-twenties. We weren't married. We hadn't even begun to talk about kids. And yet listening to Nick Drake now, with Sam by my side, and watching Nora interact with that music from our past I was almost shocked that I hadn't known this was inevitable. I felt sorry for my 25 year old self - I didn't even know enough to want this. It never occurred to me that the memories we were making then would be something I would be nostalgic for. Even though my parents passed their music on to me, before Nora was born I never considered I would be passing music on to someone else.

I was not a girl who had an aching womb, who knew that her life's mission could only be fulfilled by having children, and yet this small child who fills me with delight landed in my lap. I won't say it was effortless and I won't say there weren't bumps along the way, but really, what more could I have wanted? A husband I love and who loves me, a child who amazes me, a roof over our heads and food on the table. On some levels it was all I ever wanted and on other levels I never even thought to want it.

Then Nora noticed I was watching her (thankfully I had already wiped away my tears because she had seemed quite confused in the moments she has actually seen me cry) and I saw the flicker of embarrassment on her face. She barreled towards us and buried her head in my lap while laughing her amazing laugh. And another memory came flooding back:

I was dancing under the steps at the Carnegie Museum of Art. I was young - maybe five? I don't know why I thought no one could see me. It probably didn't even occur to me to care until I saw my parents and my brother's first grade teacher watching me. It wasn't the dancing that made me self-conscious, it was the watching -- the way they looked at me told me that they were seeing something they didn't think I wanted them to see and therefore I decided it wasn't supposed to be seen.

I wondered if that's how Nora felt when she saw me watching with awe as she did "The Other Dance" to Nick Drake's rich and somber music. The movements must have felt natural to her, but my watching must have seemed odd. I felt horrible for interrupting her dance with my stare, but I couldn't look away. I know I'll have to walk that line with her for years to come: how do you watch someone grow up before your very eyes without making them feel like they're being watched?

I don't want to miss a thing.

Pizza Monster

2011-01-22T17:36:00.000-08:00

Along with the touch of pneumonia, Nora has developed a new and limited palate: she will eat yogurt, applesauce and pizza. Gone (for now) are the days of spinach, sweet potatoes, falafel and hummus. I know this will pass, but this morning, her food jag forced me to say this:

"No, you may not eat pizza for breakfast!"

This may have been the moment I realized, once and for all, that I am someone's mother. Or the moment I realized I am the biggest hypocrite on the planet!

I was told there would be a parade.

2011-01-22T07:23:00.001-08:00

Sam's boss is a great guy with a young family. He's very understanding of our struggle to be good parents and good employees. When talking to him a few weeks ago about our lack of sleep he said something to this effect:

"Eventually it will pass and you won't even realize it. You'll just wake up one day and have to deal with something new and you'll think to yourself, 'Wait, when did we stop dealing with night-wakings and start dealing with this? And if we're done with night wakings (for now) where was the parade?!'"

So true, so true.

The past month has been a rough one. It seems like it all started with her MMR vaccine and her 18-month check-up, but in reality, I'm sure it was a number of things: teething, developmental leaps, two colds in December (at least one of which I blame on the MMR and other I blame on her compromised immunity from fighting the MMR), the trip to New York, the dog she didn't get along with... It's been quite a lot for an 18-month old and her parents to handle. But now she's sleeping (yea!) and we're dealing with a new issue: PNEUMONIA! We really didn't even have a chance to appreciate the sleep.

But let me back up a minute, because the whole sleep issue needs to be addressed. Basically Nora has slept from 7pm - 7am from the time she was six months old. We've never had trouble putting her to sleep and though she's a loud sleeper (lots of yelping between sleep cycles), she has never had trouble putting herself back to sleep. Though she doesn't do well sleeping anywhere but her own crib (and this unfortunately includes day care) we're really very spoiled. But the flip-side is, we don't really have any techniques to help her sleep on the rare occasions she can't figure it out on her own. These times have generally been associated with teething in the past and while the December/January Sleep Regression Debacle of 2010/2011 may have started as a teething episode, or a sickness episode, or a travel episode, it blossomed into something else that got way out of control.

I was convinced she was scared of something because every so often she would say "scared" or "ghost." I was convinced she NEEDED me and I would cause unnecessary psychic pain to her if I didn't go to her, comfort her and stay with her as long as she needed me, which ended up with me sleeping on her floor for a few nights. We sought the council of an old friend/sleep consultant who gave us good advice and a few options to try if I felt it was really necessary to go to her, but Sam had other ideas.

Sam felt that she didn't NEED me, that she had grown used to having me around in the middle of the night and that it was time to break the habit. One night last week when she woke up he went in her room, did NOT take her out of her crib and basically talked to her for half an hour about how it was night time, she was safe, Momma wasn't going to come in the room because he was there and it was time for her to go to bed. In the end it took him about 50 minutes to get her to go back to sleep, and he even had to physically lie her down in her crib, but she did go back to sleep and he didn't even wake her when he ran into the door on his way out of the room. The next night it happened again and it only took him 20 minutes to get her to go back to sleep. The next night she didn't wake up at all.

I know it's not helpful to look at these things as battles, but it was hard for that not to feel like a win. It really seemed like (and maybe it was) a battle of wills and he was not going to back down. She sensed that and gave up.

And though it's not helpful to pit parents against each other, the fact that Sam's instincts were right and mine were wrong was very humbling, but in a good way. Up until this point, that's 18-months of parenting, I've led the way. I've done the reading, I've tackled the issues, I've made most (all?) of the decisions. When I decided to breastfeed, it wasn't really a conversation -- it was more like a statement. Sam supported me and trusted me that what I wanted to do was right for our family. Sure we've talked about things and luckily we agree on most things relating to Nora anyway, but I picked the day cares and I made the food and I decided when we moved her into her own room. I think the last time Sam put his foot down and said "you're wrong, I'm right and we're doing it my way" was nearly a year ago when we went on our first post-baby date.

He was right then about the fact that we needed to get out on our own and he was right this time about Nora needing to get back to sleep on her own. It was humbling indeed, but also comforting. To know that I don't always have to be right, but that I'm still a good parent is a real gift. To know that when things get hard Sam can handle them just as well, if not better, than I can is also a real gift. And for Sam, taking a stand, and being right, was a gift, too.

But there was no parade. There were no balloons. There was no one singing our praises and baking us a cake. No, because just as the sleep fell back into place, I started a new job, Nora got sick, Sam left the country and then we got the diagnosis of "early Pneumonia" and "early ear infection." And just like that, before we could be grateful for our new found sleep, we were (or really I was) dealing with Nora's first infections and first ever antibiotics and Sam was dealing with a time change that is currently disrupting his sleep which he should be enjoying in his very own hotel room.

I guess we'll just reschedule the parade.

Suh-Leeters, 1/15/11

2011-01-17T16:21:00.000-08:00

Watch out for piercing screams (not Nora's, amazingly) at about 4:34.

Playing with Mae Cat

2011-01-17T12:39:00.000-08:00

Turntable Magic

2011-01-10T17:21:00.000-08:00

Winter Wonderland

2011-01-07T09:39:00.001-08:00

This morning we thought Sam's iPhone alarm was going off but it turned out to be a robocall alerting him to a two-hour delay. Nice. I did get momentarily sad when I realized that that call meant there were probably no more school phone-trees, but I recovered quickly when I realized Mae was purring loudly on my pillow and I could go back to sleep!

I think we may have finally all recovered from our "break." Nora seems to be sleeping and Sam is back in the groove at school. I am looking forward to starting work next week.

I think I have decided to believe that Nora's recent spate of sleepless nights were associated with huge cognitive leaps. Last night Sam was telling a story about one of his students. He was fumbling for words and said "... her ... uncle ..." and Nora interrupted him: "Uncle? Matt. Uncle Matt." We were sort of floored. She's not just parroting us anymore. And the balance seems to be tipping: we now understand more words than we don't. So I texted Matt to tell him what she had said and he suggested Skyping. At one point during our session I got a phone call I had to take so I said to Nora, "Please talk to Uncle Matt while I take this." She turned towards the computer and said "Hi Matt," and proceeded to regale him with some story that none of us could follow. It is just amazing to watch these leaps. I now know why almost every parent thinks their kid is super-smart. Watching language acquisition may be one of my favorite parts of parenting.

Snow days are not so much my favorite things.... I sent this text to "missa" across the street this morning: "Any chance you want to take them outside? I don't really want to, but I could be convinced..." Missa and Lu-Kass were up for the adventure so N and I started getting ready. This would be the first time she would wear her boots and snow pants. It was no easy task to get her dressed and predictably, even though she had already pooped twice this morning, she pooped again halfway through the layering process, but we made it outside.

She didn't like it so much but she didn't like grass in the beginning either!! I was happy to bring her home, give her pasta and put her down for a nap. I'm now headed down for one myself!!

Fatoosh

2011-01-05T11:11:00.000-08:00

I know I'm a big fat whiner. On one hand, I should be overwhelmingly grateful for my life. I have a healthy child who is funny and sweet and cute and independent. I have a wonderful husband who loves and appreciates me as much as I love and appreciate him. I have a job that doesn't start for another week, which is sort of the best of both worlds - I can lounge around in my pajamas enjoying my freedom with the knowledge that a new chapter will be starting soon. I have childcare two days a week which also allows for the lounging around and is truly a privilege. I have a husband who doesn't see that childcare as a luxury, but a necessity for my sanity and (sometimes) creative endeavors. And yet.... and yet it is hard to feel grateful for anything on 4hours of sleep.

I should be sleeping now, but I'm too tired. And I have a headache and I can't remember when I last took tylenol or when I can take it again.

I keep thinking about this little restaurant in Brooklyn -- it's called Fatoosh -- I don't even like it that much, but once, a long time ago (a time that seems like a lifetime ago) SMS and I took an impromptu walk on a chilly afternoon and ended up there. It wasn't a great meal, but it was a great walk. And more than a great walk, it was an impromptu great walk.

In the year before our wedding we were pretty much as unencumbered as two people could be. The drama of "will he/won't he" had subsided since he had (finally) proposed and though we were planning a wedding (high drama), we were doing it on our own terms and I was enjoying it. Neither of us was in school so there was no homework. He was "underemployed" and therefore under-stressed and I was comfortable in a job I loved.

I keep thinking of that restaurant. I didn't love the food, but I loved the location and I loved the smallness of it. But mostly I loved who we were when we went there. We were people who stayed up late drinking, going to shows, watching movies and being with friends. We were people who slept late and then decided what to do when we woke up, that is, if we felt like doing anything at all. We were people who meant to go to breakfast, but sometimes ended up at brunch, or even lunch, because we moved that slowly in the morning. We had so much self-determination and, to be frank, we did very little with it.

I recently had a conversation with a mom who was talking about the things she knew now as a parent that she wished she could have known before. I said "I just wish I had gone out more." Her husband laughed. He knew me when I went out a lot. But I think he misunderstood. I wouldn't have gone to more parties. I wouldn't have drank more. If I knew how difficult it would be to just leave the house, I would have, literally, gone outside more. Or maybe I wouldn't have. But whatever I was doing, or not doing, I would have appreciated it more.

And here I am back to whining. You'd think I was a miserable human being with a miserable kid and a crappy husband. I am not that person. I am a person who is trying to be more grateful, but I'm having a hard time. Four hours of sleep doesn't buy you much gratitude.

Sleep, or lack of it

2011-01-03T13:03:00.001-08:00

Well, the Open Letter to my Father, aka the "ghost with glasses," did not work. Or it pissed him off. Or it pissed Nora off. It's unclear what exactly happened, but it wasn't pretty. Last night I had to do some "sleep training" as Nora once again refused to sleep.

She initially went down around her normal time but she was up an hour later screaming bloody murder. She sounded angry as all get out. After making sure that she wasn't in pain and that she didn't have a fever, I explained to her that it was night time and she needed to sleep. I made sure she had her pacifier (yes, we still use a pacifier) and her loveys and I continued to explain that she wasn't going to get out of the crib. I offered to sit next to her, to tell her stories and even to give her some books in her crib. She would have none of it. She was standing on her tippy toes, reaching for me to pick her up and wailing loudly. After several minutes I explained that I knew she knew how to go to sleep and that she loved her crib and that I was going to go in the other room so she could calm down. No such luck.

We listened to her scream for 10 more minutes and then I went back in with the same story. "It's night time we sleep at night." Again, this didn't calm her in anyway. She wouldn't even take her pacifier ("fier") and she seemed scared and angry all at the same time. This was really hard on me. I remember quite specifically what it felt like to be afraid to go to sleep, to be afraid of the dark, to be afraid of being alone. It is precisely because I remember that feeling from my childhood that it is so hard not to pick her up and cuddle her in my arms. When I do that, she stops crying, but then she also wants to get down and play. But I sat next to her crib and tried to tell her a (boring) story and continued to offer her her pacifier. On my fourth offer, she accepted and even lay down, but I wasn't out of the woods yet. First I had to tell her another (boring) story and then I had to sit there quietly as she checked, every few moments, that I was still there. Eventually we agreed I could leave the room and she slept until late this morning (7:30).

It was a rough night and it makes me scared about tonight, and tomorrow night, and this weekend when we're supposed to go to my mom's. But mostly it just makes me sad because I know what she's feeling. At least I think I do. I know that the fear comes from an irrational place, I even knew that as a kid, but it doesn't make it any easier to shake. And it just breaks my heart.

An Open Letter To My Father

2011-01-02T16:21:00.000-08:00

Dear Neil,

I get that you love Nora a whole lot. And I know babies only see ghosts for so long before they harden like the rest of us so you're trying to get your time with her in now. But seriously, you can't really hang out around bed time.

If she tells me one more time about how she can't sleep because of the ghost with glasses, we're going to have to have words.

I have tried to explain to her that you're nothing to be afraid of, but you know, at nighttime, it's dark and you're sort of a large dude, you understand, right? You've certainly scared people older and wiser than she, like every guy I ever dated? (Ok, so they weren't all wiser than Nora, but they were older....)

Maybe instead you could come in the morning and keep her company until, like, 8am? She likes to read books. Maybe she could read to you?

Alternatively, feel free to visit me. You haven't visited in a while. You were in my dream last night, but it was a regular dream, not a real visit. We were at a fancy restaurant with Mom and Jill. As the maitre d' was seating us, I blurted out "I'm going to throw up." Turns out I was nauseated all day.

Ok, so feel free to visit Nora in the morning, once the sun comes up, or me in my dreams, cool? Thanks.

Lots of love and MISS YOU!
--Nora's Momma

Plans

2011-01-01T16:38:00.000-08:00

"Announcing your plans is inviting god to laugh."
-- Al Swearengen, Deadwood, Season One Finale

"It's so frustrating: you have to make plans and you can't plan anything!"
-- Sam Schindler, New Year's Day, 2011

If our "break" has been a mixed bagged (at best), our New Year's Eve represented the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows.

December 31st is the anniversary of the night that SMS and I met - we've been a couple ever since. If it weren't for that, I'm not sure I would care one bit about celebrating the new year. But as it is, the evening has taken on a special significance for us and we try to honor that. Recently, this has taken the form of sushi and a movie on DVD. Quiet nights are nice like that. This year didn't work out that way.

Nora took a late nap on New Year's Eve and while she was sleeping we decided it would be a good idea to get out for a bit and interact with some people, to enjoy our new city, to celebrate a bit. I had heard about a party happening at the local baseball stadium and the weather was mild, so we headed out to see what was going on.

We had a blast!

There was a man making balloon animals, a magician, a comedian, ice skating and live bands for kids and adults. And there was ballpark food! We congratulated ourselves on getting out of the house. On taking a chance on the party. On living somewhere with no traffic, few crowds and plentiful free parking. It sort of summed up all of the reasons we moved here.

But then the night got away from us...

(1) We should have brought the sushi menu with us, so we could order on our way home. We didn't.
(2) Halfway home we realized that Nora hadn't really had dinner.
(3) It occurred to us that after playing with other kids on the floor of the sky box where the kids music was playing, she would also need a bath.
(4) We only had two beers and some scotch with no mixers. That would need to be rectified.

As the night got later and later and Nora refused to sleep, we tried to improvise and stay flexible, but the next thing you know it was 11:45pm and Sam and I were asleep on Nora's floor while she was walking back and forth between us, patting us on our backs.

Not the night we had planned. No time to celebrate us. No time for quiet reflection OR raucous partying. We were demoralized, frustrated and pretty peeved.

We got her to go to sleep in her own crib right before the mid-night fireworks from town could be heard in the distance. Thankfully they didn't wake her and luckily she slept late the next morning.

We tried again for a nice day on the first. We took Nora to a playground and to watch the dogs at a nearby dogpark. We hung out with her while she read books to us. We napped while she did. And we had a conversation about the night before. That's when SMS said, "It's so frustrating: you have to make plans and you can't plan anything!" For me, it really summed up what being a new-ish parent is all about. We recognized our part in Nora's trouble falling asleep: the late nap, the over-stimulation near bed-time -- we hadn't planned to be out that late, but we were enjoying being spontaneous. And then we paid for it.

Luckily, she went to bed on time on January 1st and though it wasn't sushi (which we had scarfed down the night before), we had a nice meal of turkey burgers and watched the fabulous film, An Education. It was a lovely day. We appreciated each other and we appreciated her.

Of course I woke up this morning, January 2, with a mild version of the cold SMS had last week, but you can't win them all.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2010-12-29T14:19:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!
Click Here for a brief wrap-up of 2010 in pictures!

Not Really a Vacation...

2010-12-27T06:52:00.000-08:00

This week was supposed to be awesome. Friends of ours were going out of town and needed someone to dog sit in their fabulous apartment on the Upper West Side in New York City. We jumped at the chance to go back to our old 'hood, see friends and show Nora the city. It didn't quite work out that way.

The trip started out great: We had an easy drive and settled in quickly to the apartment. Big Ups to Sam who lugged everything we would need to transform a hip one bedroom into a child-friendly mess up three flights of stairs and Big Props to me for finding a GREAT parking space. That afternoon I high-tailed it to Brooklyn for a haircut, a quick visit with friends and a great dinner of take-out thai with some other friends. My travels took me all over Cobble Hill and Carroll Gardens. Though I could have spent several more days just wandering those streets and visiting friends, those few hours were an amazing gift. Meanwhile, Sam and Nora explored the Upper West Side, daddy/daughter/ergo style.

Friday started off well. We had bagels at Tal Bagels on the way to the Children's Museum of Manhattan where we played with our friends and their son. Nora had a pretty loud meltdown at the bagel store but we figured she was just tired as it was around the time she would normally take a nap. That afternoon Nora had some lunch and went to sleep. A few hours later she woke up with a fever and it all started to unravel, though not without some shining moments of hilarity.

We canceled plans with a friend for Saturday morning and hoped that a day in the apartment would heal things. Unfortunately, Nora and the dog weren't getting along so it meant treating the 1-bedroom apartment (large by NYC standards, but small compared to our townhouse) like a studio, with the humans all in one room and the very sweet dog in the other. Saturday night Sam and I had tickets to see "Next To Normal" on Broadway and after much hemming and hawing, including canceling a big family dinner of Vietnamese food (on Xmas day, on the Upper West Side, insert your own cliche here), we decided to go to the show. Big Props to cousin Marla for insisting on babysitting a sick kid! The show was amazing, though not the best show to see when you have a sick kid at home. Equally enjoyable was being out as a couple, even if it was just to push through amateur tourists in Times Square.

Nora was up hanging out with Marla when we got home and didn't go back to sleep until 3am. It was like she thought it was the middle of the day and everyone should want to play! In a small apartment, we didn't have much choice but to play with her. She really was funny, even though Sam and I couldn't see straight! At one point she insisted on barking ("woof!") every time we hugged her. Laugh riot.

Given that Nora couldn't sleep in the apartment and a blizzard was on the way, we made some changes, canceled a bunch of plans and Nora and I returned to Lancaster, leaving Sam to dog sit and enjoy a snow-filled NYC.

I have been frustrated, dismayed and (mostly) humbled by this experience.

I realize now that geography doesn't necessarily return you to your prior grandeur - though walking on Smith Street and Court Street in Brooklyn do have a surprisingly restorative impact on me.

I realize that trying to pack too much in is a recipe for disaster. I don't know why I bother planning anything with Nora! During her four month sleep regression a friend who is a sleep consultant listened to me describe Nora's day and said something to the effect of "She just doesn't seem to be a rhythmic kid. You may find this stays with her." Man, was that prophetic. No two days are the same. One Nap? Maybe. Two Naps? Maybe. In the afternoon? Maybe. Plans are just silly!

I realize that you cannot stop your child from teething just because you've planned a trip. This is the second trip since September that has been completely derailed by teething. Lack of sleep used to be the sign of a good night! Over Labor Day on a trip with college friends it actually felt completely normal to be sleep deprived and generally stoopid with these people - the old cause of missed sleep was more fun (but less meaningful!) than the new one, but the feeling was exactly the same.

Mostly, I realize that Sam and I are no longer free radicals. Where we go, Nora goes, and some places aren't meant for 18-month olds so we may need to rethink future trips. We are very lucky to have a child who is a champion sleeper in her own crib, but apparently her own crib is a key component to that great sleep.

Being bummed out, apartment bound and sleep deprived in New York City took quite a toll on me. It's almost worse to have a bad day in a favorite place than in your normal surroundings. It's like I knew the city and all my friends and places I wanted to eat were out there, but I couldn't reach them.

The drive home with Nora was a breeze. Solo parenting is something else...

Nora says the darndest things!

2010-12-19T18:20:00.000-08:00

When I started this blog in 2009 and I thought of it as a way to keep the family "back east" in the loop on all of Nora's comings and goings and growings! I quickly found that I enjoyed processing new parenthood through this medium and the blog. And now that we're "back east" I keep writing because I like it. I also see it as a document for Nora - something she will hopefully look back on and enjoy - an on-line, multi-media babybook of sorts, as I have not yet made a "brick and mortar" version for her!

Some things I record here are big and exciting while others are mundane. I hope she enjoys looking back on them all. Here are some funny things she said and did last week that I don't want to forget.

"Hat. Lucas."
Nora's grandparents stopped by for lunch last week on their way home to New York from a wedding in DC. As I was straightening up for their arrival, I was looking for a place to put our Steelers baseball cap which is signed by none other than Nora's namesake, Rashard Mendenhall. (Thanks to Matt Cohen and Andy Sine.)

Nora looked at the hat and said, "Hat. Lucas." Yup, she took one look at a Steelers hat and connected it to her friend across the street, Lucas.

"Bubby short."
We had a very nice lunch that day with Bubby and Poppa and then Nora took a short nap. At dinner that night I was talking to her about her day and I asked her if she had fun at lunch with Bubby and Poppa and she said, "Bubby, Poppa. Bubby short." It was a priceless moment and when I shared it with Sam's parents, they laughed, too.

"Nnnnnnnnnnnn."
This is something Nora says pretty frequently, but I don't get to see it or hear it all that often. Nora has a favorite teacher at skewl who also babysits her here sometimes. Apparently, if another child at skewl sits on Christina's/Tina's lap Nora will stand next to them "growling" until she gets to sit down. I've only heard it a couple times, but I have to say, for "growling" it's pretty darn cute!

Dinner

2010-12-15T17:48:00.000-08:00

First Friday!

2010-12-10T18:25:00.000-08:00

First Fridays are big around here. All of downtown celebrates. Sam's school has a dress-down day. And although last Friday was not a First Friday on the calendar, it was full of first for us.

Nora got her first present from Santa! (It was the book "My First Menorah" and it was actually from Savta, but Santa called her name and handed it to me, because she was too scared, or Jewish, it's unclear.)

That's us in the corner, listening to "Twas the Night Before Christmas."

Nora saw snow for the first time!

I braided challah (with sprinkles!) for the first time !

And we all went to Shabbat Dinner at my new job for the first time.
(Photo not available.... it was Shabbat, people!)

December 9, 2010

2010-12-09T15:47:00.000-08:00

These are the ways in which I honored my father today:

I visited the spot where we spread his ashes.

(c)Matt Cohen Photo

I "kidnapped" my daughter.

I drove an inordinate amount of time to eat lunch.

I got lost on the back roads of Bucks County. I inherited my excellent sense of direction (and my parking karma) from my father. The only place he ever got lost was Bucks County. I learned today just how hard it is to find one's way around there.

I drove on River Road -- there were icicles on the boulders that were jutting out.

I drove past the Apple-Jack, The Golden Pheasant and New-Life Island.

I dove past the pump -- cause of The Dump The Pump campaign.

We at lunch at the Black Bass Hotel.

We had dessert at The Lumberville Store.

I struck up a conversation with some strangers.

But maybe most importantly, I watched as the light at 4pm in December illuminated the trees on Bull's Island. There is nothing in the world that compares with this light. It is not rosy in any way and it is bright without being blinding because it is reflecting off the trees. I have no idea what kind of trees they are, because I know nothing about trees, but for someone reason it seems to me that they look like they should be called birch.

It was wonderful to be able to share this day and this light with Nora, even though she was a handful.

At the park where we scattered my dad's ashes we stopped to listen to two branches rub up against each other. It was a sound I had not heard in a long time.

I showed her the spot were Sam and I got married.

And in the parking lot at The Black Bass Hotel (near the pet cemetery) when we were trying to get out some energy before lunch she inexplicably said "ghost," made her "scared" nosie and then ran over to me and grabbed my leg.

I didn't have the space that I normally allow myself on this day, but maybe we've started some new traditions. I hope so.

Five Years

2010-12-09T08:00:00.000-08:00

My father died on December 9, 2005. It is almost unfathomable to me that it has been that long. Sam and I have been married six years and it seems like forever. My dad has been gone five, and it seems like yesterday.

Tuesday night when we were going to bed Sam heard me sigh. He asked what was going on. I told him I was worried about getting through the next few days. I don't cry about it as much as I used, but his absence still hurts. (I was about to write that I don't cry about it at all anymore, but just two weeks ago I burst into tears, several times, while watching Eddie and The Cruisers, so yea, I still cry about it.) Sam asked me if it was easier or harder now that we have Nora. I answered this way:

"It's easier to look towards the future and not be so bogged down in the past, but it is unbelievably sad that they won't know each other."

That was the quick answer, the first few things that came to mind, but the truth of course is more complicated.

On the one hand, there are parts of my father's personality that I'm glad I won't have to explain to Nora. On the other hand, she will probably see glimpses of those things in me - and maybe she would understand me better if she knew him.

On the one hand, I'm looking forward to taking Nora to visit the site where my brother and I spread my dad's ashes. On the other hand, 18-month-olds don't have a great track record in respecting the solemnity of dates or places.

The last time I visited the site I took my i-Pod and wandered off on my own to listen to Rosanne Cash's Black Cadillac. It was quiet and peaceful, and not necessarily sad. Today will not look like that. The best I am hoping for is that Nora will enjoy the hike, even if the weather is less than ideal. To be honest, I'm just hoping it doesn't turn into a disaster.

Each year I try to mark my father's yahrzeit in some way. Sometimes it is eating a meal he would have liked. Sometimes it's retreating to the spa for a massage. Whatever it is, I try to take myself out my routine and spend some time reflecting on his life and its impact on mine. (I actually feel like there are times I'm doing that on a daily basis, but on December 9, I try to be more conscious of it.) Today won't be like that.

For one thing, there is no routine anymore. For another, there is no stepping outside of the present anymore. I realized first thing this morning when I stepped out of the shower and Nora was already awake, that what I said to Sam Tuesday night wasn't exactly right. It's not that Nora helps me focus on the FUTURE rather than dwelling in the past, it's that she demands I focus on the PRESENT.

So today I'll go for a hike where I spread my father's ashes, but I'll also change diapers and decipher newly learned language and wipe a runny nose. Today I will make both a "beagle" and a "waff-ful" for breakfast, but while I do, there will be a yahrzeit candle burning.

Easier or harder with a Bear? I'm not sure.
Better? Yes.

My Dad, 1943-2005

2010-12-08T08:00:00.000-08:00

Five years ago today, I got the call. The doctors were unable to bring my father out of the medicinal coma they had put him in a week earlier. It was time to come home. If you play the "video" below you will hear me re-tell the story of my journey from New York to Pittsburgh. You will also get to see pictures from my father's life. It's about ten minutes long.

Thanks to Sam for "producing" this. Thanks to you for listening.

Chanuka 2010

2010-12-06T19:34:00.000-08:00

Warning: My singing voice is terrible.

On Loss

2010-12-06T12:56:00.000-08:00

People say moves are traumatic. Although we were very excited for our move east, it was not without moments of drama. Most of the drama has now subsided but what lingers is the loss. We have lost a number of things in between California and Lancaster -- some have magically reappeared. Others have not.

I do not lose things frequently. The other day Sam was looking for something in the refrigerator that he swore had vanished. From the other room I called out its exact location in the fridge -- I can do that with pretty much every piece of jewelry I own and most other things, too. It is probably because I don't frequently lose things that when I do, it tends to stands out. (NOTE: After losing too many sunglasses to count, I learned to do without. I also try to avoid using umbrellas for the same reason.) (ALSO NOTE: Asking where I left my phone and/or glasses ten times a day is not the same as losing them. Take that, SMS!)

Several years ago, I went through a phase in which there were a few noteworthy losses (and remarkable reappearances). During that time, Sam and I starting joking that I had the ability to make things disappear -- to send them to an alternate universe, so to speak -- and then reappear by the sheer force of will. This may be why losing things is so traumatic for me, I think I really believe that if I think about the object hard enough, I can make it reappear.

This is what has been lost in the months since we left Los Angeles:

ITEM: Sam's set of keys to our cars
These were lost in transit. The last time I remember having them was on the plane from LA to Minneapolis or Milwaukee (wherever it was we changed planes), but I can't be sure. Sam thinks we had them in Pittsburgh. Who knows? They are, thankfully, replaceable though expensive. We've opted to put off replacing them. Instead we each have a "real" key to our own car and a "valet" key to the other person's car. It's mildly inconvenient, but manageable.
STATUS: Gone for good

ITEM: Checks
In the past six months I lost, and found, the same check twice. I lost another check just a month ago and found it weeks later. Because I was too embarrassed to admit I had lost that check in the first place, I was thrilled to have found it and promptly sent it off for deposit. It is not like me to lose things, but it is certainly not like me to checks. I was convinced Nora had done something with it. In retrospect, it was completely unfair to blame her as it had simply fallen behind a table.
STATUS: Recovered, but an unnerving trend

ITEM: Sam's favorite brown shorts
Initially we thought we had left these in Virgina. We checked in with the people who owned the house where we stayed. No shorts there.

Then we thought that maybe they had been sent from Virgina to Dana & Jen in New Hampshire. They had left all of their laundry from the weekend in the dryer at the house where we were staying. No such luck.

Just last week they turned up in the cabinet with Sam's "sleeping clothes." I claim no responsibility for this loss or recovery.
STATUS: Recovered, three months after initial loss, "mis-filed" in the wrong drawer

ITEM: Photos albums
I made little photo albums every few months of Nora's first year. I sent copies back east to the family and kept one copy of each album for us. I cannot find these albums anywhere. I don't know if I unpacked them and "put them away" somewhere here. I don't know if a whole box didn't make it to the new place, and if so, what else was in that box? I don't know if I threw them out in the bottom of a box that didn't get completely unpacked. I don't know if they are in one of the boxes that went right into storage (though I've looked through most of them to no avail). It is a mystery and it makes me sad -- I have a feeling they are gone for good. Luckily they are replaceable and all I would have to do is reprint the albums I have saved on-line, buy new mini albums and reassemble them. Still, that's a pain and expensive. Not a priority right now.
STATUS: Missing, possibly gone for good

ITEM: Sam's knit cap
We had this hat not too long ago. I think we may have left it in Pittsburgh last month, but it hasn't turned up, there or here. We've looked in the empty suitcases a few times. I bought this hat for Sam several Hanukkahs ago at the Union Square Market (or maybe the market at the Columbus Circle entrance to Central Park - I don't remember, but it was outdoors and cold). It's amazing to me that we managed to hold onto it for three years in LA, but we lose it as soon as we get back to winter. I still have hope it will turn up; it doesn't feel like it's gone for good.
STATUS: Missing, have not given up hope

ITEM: My camera
My camera went missing after an afternoon trip to Lancaster Brewing Company with Sam's cousins. I knew I took pictures there and I hadn't seen it since.
Pictures from The Brewery:

I did not love this camera, but we are in no position to be replacing non-essential electronics right now. Granted, with Nora around, whether or not a camera could be deemed essential is debatable, but I was really hoping we weren't going to have to spend $300. I called the Brewery but they said they hadn't seen it. I wondered if I had hidden it from Nora (under the couch? on top of the bookcase?) and thought about how long I should wait for it to surface before buying a replacement. I started researching a new camera.

As we were searching for Sam's hat I remembered - we had used our jogging stroller for a cold weather walk. Sam found my camera in a pocket of the stroller!
STATUS: Recovered, through sheer force of will

Pictures from the cold-weather walk:

So as we have been going through this 'lost and found' phase, this time of searching and discovery, I've been thinking about why we've been losing things in the first place.

With upheaval comes new patterns and new locations. Recently I got out of bed way past my bedtime because I couldn't remember where I was keeping some bonds we had been given as gifts. I knew exactly where they were in the old apartment, but I couldn't remember if I'd unpacked them and where they had landed in the new apartment. I know that until I have found a place for everything, things are bound to get misplaced, but I've also been thinking about the last time I was in a 'lost and found' phase -- it was right after my first grandparent died and things were just coming and going from the alternate universe like no one's business. I comforted myself by deciding it was my grandma who was moving things around so that I knew she was still with me.

When I look back at the list of things that have been coming and going recently, I've decided my father is at the root of this little spell. It make perfect sense:

He now has keys to our cars, pictures of Nora and a hat to keep his head warm in the PA winter. He tried out Sam's shorts, but they didn't fit. He has a history of moving money around, but in this case he thought better of it and returned the checks. And while he must miss his camera in the after-life, he realized that he would prefer to have no camera at all rather than deal with my silly point and shoot.

Happy Almost Deathversary, Dad. I still miss you, but I'd love to have my keys back. You can keep the photos of Nora -- enjoy them!

Singing out of Tune

2010-12-03T11:19:00.000-08:00

Lo, this is for you:

A (small) portion of this was published in the Ellis Alumnae magazine sometime last year. There was a call for stories about our favorite teachers (though no word-count was given -- so sue me for going overboard!).

I have recently been inspired to re-post here. And though Nora now says "Nooooooo" when I try to sing the alphabet with her -- she prefers to sing alone -- I will always fondly remember the days when she liked how I sang "If I had a hammer."

As a lifer at Ellis there were many faculty members who touched my life deeply:

Mrs. Halpern who pulled out my loose teeth in lower school;
Mrs. Mauch who opened the fire escape to let us smell the cookies baking at the Nabisco plant;
Miss George who patiently explained calculus to me when everyone else in the class already understood what was going on and who led our mini-course trip to Rochester, NY where we helped build a house for Habitat for Humanity;
Mrs. Schwentker who was the head of the lower school when I was in lower school and the college counselor when I was in Upper School;
and nearly every English teacher at Ellis who encouraged my love for writing;

But I think it easy to love a teacher who teaches a subject in which you excel. I think it takes a special teacher to win your affection and respect when he or she teaches a subject in which you have no hope. There are many things in my life that are hard but there is one thing at which I am horrible: I cannot carry a tune.

Miss Palermo/Mrs. Gray was one of my favorite teachers even though she made my life miserable at least twice a year: when we had to sing a solo in class. I cried each time and I hated her on those days, but every other day of the year I wanted to be her. She told great ghost stories and never seemed afraid of anything. She sang Happy Birthday and tugged on your ear. I don’t know why we loved that but we did! She had an amazing presence that commanded your attention, even when you were singing with unintentional “vibrato” because you were quivering through your tears. She was also the only teacher at Ellis to ever give me detention, but that’s another story.

Miss Palermo made me cry on many occasions, but she only cried once that I remember. When she gave her speech to us in the lunchroom just before our first performance of the 8th grade operetta she broke down. She told us that as the director she had done everything that she could do and now it was up to us. In that moment her tears inspired me to do my very best, even though my very best would be very off-key.

Once I was in the upper school I was sad not have her in class but I was thrilled that I would never be required to sing a solo ever again. I didn’t have much contact with Miss Palermo after that except to say hello in the halls but she did make me cry one more time.

On the night of graduation I was elated. Although I was sad to leave Ellis, I was ready. I was proud of what I had accomplished and though some of those around me, classmates and their families, cried, I was beaming. As we left the ceremony and headed to the parking lot I ran into Miss Palermo and burst into tears. At the time I thought the tears were merely reflexive (“Was she going to make me sing?!”) but looking back I think I realized that Miss Palermo was representative of my whole Ellis career: it wasn’t always easy; there were a lot of tears; a lot was expected of me and even when I didn’t succeed there was merit in trying.

And there’s something else I’ve learned only recently: just like Mrs. Vassar, Mrs. Kozusko and Miss Crumb emphasized the importance of life long fitness over winning a game, Miss Palermo taught me that sometimes singing in tune isn’t the point. I think of her every time I sing a song to my new daughter who (inexplicably) prefers my voice over any CD I play for her.

Tall Tall Texan Thanksgiving

2010-11-26T10:02:00.000-08:00

Light gets better about halfway through.

I Am Thankful For Facebook

2010-11-24T17:37:00.000-08:00

On this day of thanks, I am thankful for many things which many of you may be thankful for, too:

my family
my friends
my neighbors
Nora's amazing caregivers
my new job(!)
the roof over my head
the food in my cupboards
the freedom I enjoy, sadly at the expense of others
and the list could go on and on....

But I am also thankful for something that some of you despise and others of you only tolerate. I am thankful for Facebook.

I know some of you are rolling your eyes. Those of you who have deactivated your account or have never had one in the first place probably think I'm insance, but for me, Facebook has enriched my life in so many ways that I am taking a moment to be grateful today for Facebook.

Staying Close When We're Far Away
It is no surprise to those of you who have known me a long time that I've moved around a lot. I have heard on more than one occasion that some of you refuse to enter my address in pen in your old fashion address books! It's true my journey has taken me from Pittsburgh to Lancaster with many, many stops in between but thanks to Facebook, I can keep up with my friends from my various "homes" and because of that I don't ever feel that far away from any of you!

Finding Old Friends
It's funny to me that Nora may never know what it's like to lose track of someone, but back before email and Facebook and unlimited minutes, in the days of writing letters and expensive long distance bills, I lost a friend or two. I don't mean we had a falling out (although that happened, too!), I mean I physically lost them. They moved, their parents moved, life got in the way and it made me sad. When I signed up for Facebook in May of 2007 not that many people my age were on it, but quickly, very quickly, that began to change and I was finding long lost camp counselors, childhood friends, ex-boyfriends and crushes. In some cases these rekindled Facebook friendships have turned into real live rekindled friendships. In fact, if it weren't for Facebook, I wouldn't have reconnected with Naomi, who was living not that far from me in LA and I never would have found British Doula Elena. So even though Elena refuses to join Facebook, it was in fact Facebook that brought her to us.

Making New Friends
I have a few friends on Facebook that I've never met or that I met through Facebook before I met them in person. It is safe to say that they are in the minority, but I am thankful for them as well. JamieBeth is on of them. I actually "met" Jamie through an email snafu (her gmail address and mine are close and she had been receiving some of my emails). We emailed a bit about this coincidence and then became "friends" on Facebook. It wasn't until we started watching each other on Facebook that we realized how much we had in common ("Kicking and Screaming") and how much we didn't (Steelers vs. Pats). I find Jamie to be completely hilarious and love following her escapades with her niece, her friends and her beer-drinking cat.

Another friend I've made because of Facebook is Tina. She was married to Ray, a friend of mine who died.

Yesterday, as I was driving to pick Nora up at skewl I was cut off several time as I navigated the overlapping intersection of Rt. 283 and Rt. 30. "Amateur Day!" I thought, and then I thought of Ray.

Ray and I worked in a music store together, back when music stores sold cassette tapes and CDs. Every so often we'd have a day patron after patron asked the most inane questions that Ray would turn to me and say, "Oh, good, it's amateur day!"

I think of Ray every time I have one of those days.

To be sure the merge point at Rt. 283 and Rt. 30 is not for the faint of heart and if you're not a pro (if you're an amateur) it can be dicey. I should have known that the day before Thanksgiving would be Amateur Day on the roads. And as I was thinking about Ray (while paying very close attention to the amateurs on the road) I was reminded of how we are all made up of bits and pieces of those we have known in our life. Whether those influences are alive or dead, near or far, people who we talk to every day or people we haven't spoken to in years, we keep them and the moments we've had with them in our hearts and minds. They truly make us who we are.

For me, my Facebook account is an outward expression, in the virtual world, of all of the people who have helped to make me who I am. I am thankful for them all.

Making New Connections
I got a Facebook post once that said "What's going on with Dave Hall and your husband?" It made me smile. In fact, I smile every time Facebook tells me that Dave Hall commented on Sam's status or vice versa. Sam is my husband who I met in 1997. Dave was my British camp counselor in 1990 (and for the record, he's really British, unlike British Doula). Sam and Dave have never met but through Facebook they have developed a friendship based on soccer/football, comedy and things I can't mention on this family friendly blog.

Before Dave and I found each other on Facebook in 2007 it had been close to twenty years since we had seen each other and almost as long as that since we had exchanged air mail. Reconnecting with Dave on Facebook has been a joy for me. Connecting him with Sam has been an added bonus.

Collective Wisdom
I have long thought the internet was full of crap. Even in college it bothered me that anyone could put anything on the web and no one would have anyway of knowing the source or the bias. That doesn't mean I don't google just about everything:

brown water from the faucet? google.
toilet making a weird noise? google.
strange bumps on my finger? google.
how old does a kid have to be to eat peanut butter? google.

But I always read what I find with a healthy dose of suspicion. Not so with Facebook.

When you throw a question out to your Facebook friends, you know exactly who is providing you with feedback. You probably know their specialties and biases, too. This has been invaluable to me as I have moved across the country (twice) searched for a job (more times than I care to mention) and become a new mother (just once, so far).

I am so extra special grateful today to those of you who have weighed in at times when I was losing my mind with nursing issues or dealing with Nora's fevers. It's so nice to know that someone I haven't seen in person in over a decade may be the one person who has the perfect solution to some obscure problem I've discovered and thanks to Facebook, we can actually connect.

Support
It is no secret that our first several weeks with Nora were trying, to say the least. The love and support I received from my Facebook friends was overwhelming and life-affirming. It was so good to know that we were not alone and that there was a "village" out there to help me through the rough patches. There were several 3am nursing sessions that were nicely augmented by a helpful Facebook Chat or a funny post. And there was also my Facebook friend Bari (who I haven't seen in five(?) years) who responded to my Facebook plea for the original cast recording of "Into The Woods" in a very desperate and fragile moment. I will always be grateful to Facebook and Bari for providing Nora and me with a digital version of that most crucial show. It has saved our day on a number of occasions! It is playing right now.

Checking In Without Checking Up
I'll admit it, I spy on some of my Facebook friends, but only for good! If I've called someone and not heard back from them, I'll check their status to see if they may be out of the country or in a different time zone. It's nice to be able to see what people are up to, even if it's not anything all that interesting. I also use Facebook to keep up on my friends' pregnancies and due dates - it beats asking them 500 times when they are due and never remembering!

I know Facebook isn't all good:

I know it's a time suck.
I'm not saying my research paper would be done by now if it weren't for Facebook, but it's a distinct possibility!

I know that it doesn't stand in for "real" relationships.
I have a cousin I don't speak to that often. When we both lived in NYC we tried to get together when our schedules permitted, but it wasn't all that frequent. I do however adore her and try to see her whenever I get back to the city. The last time I saw her (in October) I started to update her on my life. "Oh, I know, I follow you on Facebook!" she said. "I always forget I don't actually talk to you, because I know what's going on!" I totally get what she's saying, and I do it, too. Would I have deeper relationships with people if I couldn't "spy" on them through Facebook? Maybe, but probably not. I'd probably just lose them.

I'm really glad I was a married adult before I go on Facebook.
My life is pretty much an open-book (see: this blog, and others that have come before it), but that said, I did some things in college that I am really glad were not saved for eternity on the internet. I realize that my gratitude for Facebook may fade when Nora wants her own account ... if Facebook still exists in 2015!

But negatives aside, I still love Facebook. Some say it was even invented for me! I think I've written about this before but if not, my friend Matt like to say that the life of my movie would end with a scene that would go something like this: I would meet a person (at a party or at work) and take a picture of them. Later that night, you would see me in my apartment/house with the picture and I would go through what looked like a wall into a secret room. In the secret room I would open what looked like a picture frame only to reveal a complex schematic showing every person I had ever met and how they were connected. There would be one empty space in the middle and I would, with great satisfaction, put the picture of my new friend there, somehow completing the schematic and my life's work. Sounds like the "Friends Wheel" app on Facebook, no?

Happy Holidays to you -- and thank you for being my friend.

ABCDance

2010-11-20T08:11:00.000-08:00

Walk Like a Duck

2010-11-18T10:46:00.000-08:00

Ballerina Bag Lady

2010-11-16T15:55:00.000-08:00

Eating our way through Pittsburgh

2010-11-11T08:48:00.000-08:00

This past weekend Sam, Nora and I made the trip to Pittsburgh where we met my brother Matt and stayed at our friend Kevin's place. We were there for Devin and Caito's wedding (picture below), but, as most of my visits to Pittsburgh turn out to be, this weekend was all about FOOD!

Saturday morning we took Nora to Pamela's on Walnut. She had already experienced Pamela's on Forbes, but to me, there is no Pamela's but the one on Walnut Street.

Nora at Pamela's on Forbes, July

Nora at Pamela's on Walnut, November

Saturday night we dropped Nora off with her Nana and headed out to the wedding. Matt and Sam had already tried to go the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern for a late lunch but it was closed, so after the festivities we made a late-night stop at the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern for perogies (Sam and Matt) and Kielbasa (me). The bar tender who had checked our IDs (Lancaster, Lancaster, San Francisco) and treated us like out-of-towners (we were dressed for the wedding) but I made sure he knew this was not our first time. I have found memories of sneaking into the BBT with Bitter Delores in the 1990s.

Sunday morning Matt, Sam and I headed out to the Dor-Stop and ate quite possibly the best breakfast I've had in years. I'm so bummed I didn't know this place existed for the last twenty years, but I will be making up for it in the coming years for sure! Thanks to Matt's friend, Guy Fieri, for bringing this amazing place to our attention and shame on my Dormont friends for never taking me there - Tom's Diner's got NOTHING on this place (except maybe being open late at night?).

Waiting outside the Dor-Stop
(yup, this was worth waiting for, and I DON'T wait for brunch!)
Matt drops hilarious political and/or soccer wisdom on Sam.

Matt and I had to take a Sunday drive because Nora was not interested in sleeping at Kevin's (she's knows a party place when she sees one!). Our Sunday drive landed us at Ross Park Mall and provided us with the best tasting nostalgia of the weekend:

I had strawberry, of course.

Sunday evening Nora, my mom and I had pizza with some Ellis friends -- they picked Mineo's and we indulged them. They claimed that where you get your pizza in Squirrel Hill is a personality test and I would tend to agree except their sparkling personalities far outstrip the over-cheesed Mineo's pie! (Hugs Sak and Lou!)

You may have noticed I have only ate breakfast and dinner throughout the weekend ... it seems due to the absence of portion control in Pittsburgh, two meals a day is plenty for me but on Monday Nora and I stopped by Ellis before we got on the Turnpike (Sam had left on the train on Sunday). True to form, Ellis did not skimp on the food! They had had a party that weekend and "snack" (at 10:20 in the morning!) was left over fried rice, pad thai and beef with broccoli from Lu Lu's Noodles. Can you say YUM?! Oh, and Norma got to meet Normie, I mean DOCTOR GRECO!

An Update on The War (On Christmas)

2010-11-11T08:34:00.000-08:00

You may remember I was having some trouble handling the inevitable Xmas Advances that living in the mid-state was bound to bring. I am happy to report that both the "Christmas Concert" at daycare and the "Christmas Party" with the mom's group are happily under control.

The "Christmas Concert" was a piece of cake. As it turns out Nora's class is too young to participate, so we won't be going. Easy-peasy, I'll save that drama for next year!

And the mom's group was far easier than I had ever anticipated and happened quite naturally. As Nora and I were leaving the Halloween Party, I thanked one of the organizers and explained that it was one of the first events we were able to attend because of Nora's nap schedule.

"Oh, you'll have to come to the Christmas Party! I'm in charge of that one," she said.

"Really?" I asked. "I actually have a question for you. We're Jewish and don't celebrate Christmas. Do you think we're the only ones in the group?"

"No," she replied, "I think (NAME REMOVED) is Jewish. Or maybe her husband is. I'm not sure, but that's a really good point. We should call it a Holiday Party."

And I am happy to report that the event is on the calendar as a Holiday Party. Santa will still be making an appearance, but Santa makes lots of appearances around the holidays, doesn't he?

It felt really good to be able to bring this up naturally and not to have to make a big deal about it. To her credit, this woman totally got what I was saying without me having to spell it out and I am really grateful to have had such a positive interaction on this front.

... but Stay Tuned ... it's not even Thanksgiving yet!

Other Kinds of Milestones

2010-11-11T08:06:00.000-08:00

Nora is turning into quite a big girl.

While she said her first word at six-months (Kitteh), she is now adding new words at a "deafening" pace. She mimics us constantly and then adds words to her repertoire once she is comfortable with them. Some days you can almost see the gears in her mind working. But there are other milestones that have really impressed me recently. Not the kind of milestones you chart (if you're the charting type), but the kind that you witness as a parent and think, "Wow, I can't believe my kid is doing that!" but by the next week you can't imagine your kid NOT doing it.

About three weeks ago when I was able to leave her at day care without tears AND without one of the teachers holding her. She let me put her down. She let me say good bye to her. She acknowledged I was leaving and IT. WAS. OKAY. I have to admit, even though this is what we had been aiming for for two months, it broke my heart a little.

The next "soft milestone" happened right around the same time and both Sam and I noticed it independently. Nora was able to sit through a reading of a book! We don't have a rocker or a glider in her room, never had. In the old apartment I would nurse her or we would give her her final bottle and read a book on the queen sized bed in her room but now the queen sized bed has a room of its own so we don't have anywhere to sit with Nora except the floor. Typically bedtime involves one of us reading a story while Nora (and her sippy of milk) dances circles around us or carries things from one end of her room to the other. But right around the end of October she started to sit one of our laps. And listen. And look at the pictures. And say "Again!" Now this doesn't happen all of the time. Actually, it happens pretty infrequently as Nora is almost always in constant motion, but every once in a while she'll sit and take in a book. It's priceless.

She's also been walking like a duck recently which is utterly hilarious. We assumed she learned this at "skewl," but who knows?!

She has also developed friendships! Her best friend lives across the street. His name is Lucas, he is 2 and they adore each other, even if they don't always share so well. She has also starting asking for "Abby" who is another girl at day care. And she has pretty strong preferences when it comes to her teachers as well. It is amazing to me that although she cannot verbalize why she likes someone and not someone else it is very clear that this is the case.

And then yesterday she did something that I never in a million years thought she would do. She gave me a look that my Papa Leonard used to give me right before he was about to tell a story or a joke. It nearly knocked me over in Barnes and Noble. It was pretty amazing.

Evening Activity

2010-10-31T17:29:00.000-07:00

Halloween on 10/29 - You Betcha!

2010-10-30T08:15:00.000-07:00

Last week I went to Target for the first time since we moved here. It's not far away, but it's in a part of town known for tourism and traffic so I have stayed away. KMart has been good to me, but I'm not ready to buy jeans and a purse from gold ole' Kresge-Mart just yet and with Halloween looming in the distance I thought my growing list of "things I could buy at Target" justified the trek.

It was a successful, if expensive outing (apparently, the longer you stay away, the more you spend...) and I bought everything I needed to turn Nora Bear into a ladybug (costume suggested by one of Sam's students). Later in the week I began the simple construction: cut black circles out of poster board and safety-pin them to the back of red long underwear. I am not a crafty person. I do not come from a crafty family. Artistic? Yes. Crafty? No. But I thought I had this under control. I was even getting warm-fuzzy flashback feelings to the year I dressed up as a Club cracker box(?!) made from a construction paper covered large appliance box. Nora, however, had other ideas...

Our Halloween celebration began for us on Friday morning with the Lancaster Moms Meet-up Group Halloween Party. I had only been to two small Lancaster Moms Meet-ups before (though I've been an internet member since Sam accepted his position last spring) and I was a bit nervous about such a large group event. Nothing like a costume party to make a first-time mom and newbie in town a nervous wreck.

As I began to get Nora dressed that morning she immediately started pulling off her spots. So much for the little ladybug! I was already panicked by my low tech costume, but now that that was out the window, I was left rifling through Nora's closet for anything that resembled a costume.

I found a tutu from Aunt Becky that Nora wore when she was a ballerina for Purim last year and shiny pink ballet shoes that I had purchased for her to wear to Holly's wedding (they were too big in early September but fit perfectly at the end of October!). In addition I added cotton candy pink tights that were a gift from New Jew parents, white and pink heart socks, a hand-me-down pink D&G layered skirt, and a hand-me-down white tank onesie with pink ruffles over a white turtleneck onesie from Sam's parents. The result? A super-cute ballerina/modern dancer/princess.

But there was another result: as I layered Nora's tank onsie over her turtleneck I remembered what it was like to be a kid in Pittsburgh on Halloween. I remember planning costumes so they would be warm enough to wear without coats. I remember seeing my breath as I did the loop trick or treating around our street. I remembered the orange plastic jack 'o' lanterns filled with candy that lived in the buffet in our dining room for weeks into November. And I felt so happy to be giving all of that to Nora.

Here are some pictures from the party:

Then, that evening, we got set-up to greet the Trick or Treaters. I think this was the first year we've ever given out candy and there was something about doing it that really made me feel like an adult. Our neighbors came over, we sat on the porch, our kids played and it all looked like what I thought it would look like when I imagined being an adult. We didn't get as many Trick or Treaters as I had expected but that just means more candy for us!

We did have to augment Nora's costume to combat the chill in the air. Her fashionable pink vest is at day care (I hope) so we went with a new twist to the costume: FAILED DANCER BAG LADY!

Consider the day started with a near-death experience, it ended up being a super day!

Some more pics:

RAVER NORA

ASLEEP ON MY FEET

More Halloween photos here.

Halloween? I'll give you scary!

2010-10-29T09:34:00.000-07:00

We had our second choking episode this morning. Oddly enough, the first one was on Kol Nidre and this one was on "Lancaster Halloween" (which for some reason is today and not Sunday, which is actually a good thing, BECAUSE THERE'S FOOTBALL ON SUNDAY!!!!).

Anyway, this morning Nora was eating a bagel and cream cheese (good Jew). It was Breakfast Number 2 as the banana she ate when she woke up at the ungodly hour of 6:30am wasn't quite cutting it. I was eating a cabbage and shrimp salad leftover from last night (bad Jew, good salad, inappropriate hour to be eating it). I had my back to her because I was standing at the counter eating (like most moms I know) when The Go-Go's "Vacation" came on WXPN. I turned around and started dancing and lip-synching for her and laughing at myself at what fun I was having at 9am. Nora was rapt with attention, at least I thought she was. Turns out, she was choking on a bagel and couldn't breath.

Like I said, this is the second time this has happened (the first time it was a piece of cheese and luckily Sam was home) and I can honestly say that watching your child choke is quite frankly one of the most horrifying things I've ever experienced. Both instances have ended happily in our house, but for sometime after each incident I have literally been shaking with thoughts of "what if." Horrifying. And choking, like just about everything else I've experienced as a new parent, looks NOTHING like it looks on TV. There's no flailing, there are no wild gestures, there's only the love of my life staring up at me confused and wondering why I'm not helping her. In both cases I did the absolute wrong thing (a blind finger sweep) but, thankfully it worked out for the best. Sam and I took infant/child CPR, I know better, but somehow in the moment, all I could do was reach into her mouth and grab the food.

EVERYONE, go take CPR, and then use it. I don't know what I would have done this morning if I had made things worse.

Oh, what to wear...

2010-10-28T18:29:00.001-07:00

About six weeks after I had Nora my boss called to see if I could come back to work earlier than planned. I was not doing so well at six weeks and was horrified by the thought, but it wasn't just my emotional state and the sleep deprivation that worried me. No, it was a far more basic problem:

I had nothing to wear.

And when I say nothing, I mean NOTHING. I couldn't even threaten to show up in my underwear because I DIDN'T HAVE UNDERWEAR!!! At six weeks I still hadn't found a nursing bra that fit and though I think I had moved out of the adult diaper phase, I missed them, oh how I missed them.

But that was six weeks.... a long, long time ago. It should be different now, right? Well, it's not.

Nora is 16 and a half months old. I am only about 5-8lbs heavier than I was when I found out I was pregnant (which sounds good to me considering I had dropped 15lbs right before I got pregnant and put on 40lbs during the pregnancy!). And still, I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR.

Since having Nora I have dropped a bunch of weight, but I have also gained a gut (never had that before her!). And it's not just my body that has changed, it's my whole life. I quit a job, moved cross country to a different climate and became somewhat broke. At this point I am resigned to the fact that this is my "new body" (not my post-partum body), but it's still not the right time to repopulate my wardrobe. I don't know what kind of clothes I will need if I do get a job, and I certainly don't have the money to spend on clothes until the time that I do have a job... So once again, or still, I am in a holding pattern the results of which are cheap jeans, yoga pants and sweats, and, well, one other thing...

A few days ago Sam came home and found me in dark corduroys. "Are those new pants?" he asked, "They look nice."

"No," I sighed, almost tearing up, "They're early pregnancy pants. I've finally given up."

I have to admit though, a dark chord, even with an elastic waistband, isn't the worst look for me!

Christmas, The Easter Bunny and Cry Babies

2010-10-26T13:53:00.000-07:00

I accidentally started The War on Christmas before it was cool.

In the late 80's, back at Ross Park Mall in Pittsburgh, I made sure to defiantly say "Happy Hanukkah!" every time a store clerk said "Merry Christmas!" to me.

It wasn't nice, and I'm sure it did not accomplish my goal of educating people to the fact that not all human beings celebrate Christmas, but I suppose it was a kind of defense mechanism: It was a preemptive announcement that I wasn't like everyone else before they found out my little secret.

Of course it's one thing to assert this in New York or LA or even Pittsburgh or DC. It's a completely different thing to be a Jew in Lancaster, PA. As the "holiday season" bears down upon us, I'm wrestling with how I will handle the inevitable "Merry Christmases" and everything that goes along with them.

Last summer when we were deciding where we should live in Lancaster, I talked about "the Christmas issue" with a Jewish acquaintance here and she STRONGLY encouraged me to be VERY polite if and when I deflected "Xmas advances." She explained it was a small town (with an obvious overwhelming Christian majority) and "it would get around" if I were bitchy about this issue. I took her advice to heart, but on the occasion of the first such "misunderstanding," I can't say I was all that demur.

Last month I took Nora for a check-up with a local doctor with whom we were acquainted. While discussing ways in which I could encourage Nora to give up her pacifier, he suggested waiting until she was about 18-months when she would understand the concept of bargaining.

He went on to give me an example: "You could try 'If you don't sleep with your pacifier tonight, The Easter Bunny will bring you a bike.'"

I was unprepared and stunned: The Easter Bunny brings bikes?!

I picked Nora up (she had been puttering around the exam room), nuzzled her and said, super-sweetly, "Oh, Nora, I'm so sorry, The Easter Bunny will never bring you anything because we're Jewish!"

Again, just like the late 80s, my response was not very "nice," but it really did just happen - it came from my gut - and it was driven by the impulse to protect Nora, to grab her up in my arms and shield her from the idea that she/we were supposed to be be something that we weren't. I'm not sure that makes sense but that's the only way I can describe it.

I could have said to the doctor, "We don't celebrate Easter, we're Jewish," but I knew that The Easter Bunny wasn't the point of his example and it would just get more awkward from there.

And here's the thing, the fact that The Easter Bunny wasn't the point, is exactly MY POINT. He didn't need to make that example about religion, and in fact, to him, I don't think it was about religion (nor is saying "Merry Christmas" to many people). To him, The Easter Bunny is universal, but to me, and to many other non-Christians, it's not.

So I wasn't prepared for that interaction and I would give my response a solid C, but now I'm gearing up for "The Holiday Season" and I'm trying to formulate a response that will be simple and polite but also indicative of my true feelings.

It's not even November yet, but so far I've encountered a few "Xmas Advances." There's the Christmas Party that's being planned for the mom's group I'm loosely associated with and also the Secret Santa event they're planning. And there's a Christmas Concert at day care.

From my perspective, I don't understand how calling something a "Holiday Concert" or a "Holiday Party" detracts from the fun, however, I don't want to be perceived as "The Jew" that "ruins it" for everyone else. I've thought about asking the head of the mom's group and the head of day care if we are the only Jews involved, and, if so, I would understand not making sweeping changes on our behalf, but I know that even starting that conversation could be perceived as expecting too much.

While thinking about all of this, I was reminded of an episode of This American Life that I recently listened to called Cry Babies. One segment was about the ADA and how it was designed as a "complaint driven" regulation. That is to say, there is no governing body that oversees the accessibility of buildings. If someone with a disability discovers a violation, they can sue to (a) change whatever is preventing their use and/or access and (b) collect monetary compensation. The program featured a person who un-apologetically made a living suing business owners into compliance and also a woman who did not want to sue the business where her favorite hairdresser worked but was put in a tough spot when repeated requests for accessibility were ignored.

I see myself somewhere between the two: I want people to understand that not everyone in this country (and not even everyone in town!) is Christian, but I don't want to be the one who is making everyone else's life difficult. It's a very fine line to walk and I haven't figured out how yet.

And one more thing about "The War on Christmas" (the real one, not the one I started). It's commonly short-hand for the commercialization and the secularization of the holiday meant to celebrate the birth of Christ. On more than one occasion I have encountered the argument, "Christmas isn't even Christian anymore, it's just about presents and spending time with family, so you can celebrate it too."

No, I can't.

Christmas is not American. It is not secular. It is not the same as July 4th or Thanksgiving, it is decidedly Christian and I am decidedly not.

That does not mean I won't come to your house and bake Christmas cookies with you (one of my favorite middle school memories, thank you Parke!). And please, invite me over for Christmas dinner and let me get drunk and make a fool of myself in front of your family and your other Jewish friends (a favorite New York memory of mine, thank you Eric). But know that I am celebrating your holiday and traditions with you, the same way I would gladly make you potato latkes, but I wouldn't wish you Happy Hanukkah, because that would be weird.

General Update - 16 months 2 weeks

2010-10-25T18:16:00.000-07:00

It occurs to me I haven't written a general update about Nora in a while, so here's what's going on with her:

She has started to run, but she doesn't look where she's going. This has resulted in a lot of tumbles and some drama, but she never seems hurt.

She has started to climb on the furniture in the living room which bites because that used to be a safe room we could leave her alone in ... not so much anymore.

She is singing and dancing quite a bit. Mostly she says things we cannot understand, but occasionally, with the help of the day care ladies, we are able to figure some things out. Her new favorite song/thing to say is "BabuBabu" ... we have no idea what this is about, but it's possible that Seinfeld is collecting royalties.

She loves her friend Lucas who lives across the street. He loves her right back. He calls her "my girl."

When she turned 16 months, I put the bottles away. I would say it was bitter sweet, but it wasn't, it was just plain SWEET! Nora was never really into bottles (nor was she all that into the boob), and I realized that she was taking less and less milk from her nighttime bottle, so I put them away. I still spend a good deal of time worrying about how much liquid she is taking in (to the point where I often forget to drink myself!) but putting the bottles away was pretty cool.

And the "terrible two's" have started early (not unusual, I'm told). I'm actually trying to see this in a positive light. She is definitely becoming more determined (which I didn't think was possible) and she frequently tests me (I can actually see the wheels turning in her head as she pushes my buttons) but I know that this is all normal and a sign that she is growing and developing as she should be.

And speaking of growing: she had a check-up and she was in the 50th percentile for weight (21lbs) and the 70th for height (31 and 1/3")! I keep thinking she's going to grow out of this tall/skinny phase, but maybe not!

A highlight of the past several weeks was watching Nora dance with Sam's Aunt Becky and Sam's grandma/her great grandma Shirley at Sam's dad's 70th birthday party. That was pretty special. She tired herself out, found a pillow and crawled under the buffet table to take a little rest. That reminded me of being in my pajamas under the buffet table at my dad's 40th birthday party (with my brother and cousins).

And, not surprisingly, she's talking up a storm!

I think that's about it. She and I are in a great rhythm on the days that we're home alone and she has a blast running Sam ragged on the weekends.

They also take a bath together most nights and it's a highlight of my day to listen to them splashing around and being silly. I feel very lucky these days.