It seems to me that trying to live without friends is like milking a bear to get cream for your morning coffee. It is a whole lot of trouble, and then not worth much after you get it. - Zora Neal Hurston
It rained on Friday. Almost the entire day. So a few hours into our wet morning, popcorn was calling my name. I considered putting Nora down for her nap prior to my air-popping adventure; however, the excitement of sharing it with her was too alluring. So out came the air popper with its domed lid (gone are my childhood memories of golden domes with a cup on top that even heated the butter). We gathered the kernels, the pepper, the salt, and the olive oil. Nora poured in the first few noisy kernels and quickly got scared. I finished the job, put the lid on and plugged in the magic. Lulu was nervous but as the kernels flew out as white puffed clouds, she was captivated. We both smiled as we crunched on the hot crunchy pearls and watched the bowl fill. The spicing and shaking was a big hit.
Then it was time to grab our bowls, fill them up, put them on our laps, and snuggle on the couch. She crunched hers and I crunched mine. And as the kernels dissappeared (in our mouths and in the cracks of the sofa), soon only seeds and miniscule flecks of white were left. And then it happened. The moment that I would forever savor.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught Nora with her pointer finger at the bottom of her bowl trying to pick up the tiny flecks. I was doing the same exact thing. She only needed the tip...to lick your fingertip. I showed her how to lick and then hunt down the spicy remnants. We each giggled and hunted and licked until only crunchy seeds were left. It was such fun. A grown-up moment between my daughter and I. Nothing special, I suppose. But our first popcorn...and her listening and copying of my actions is becoming ever-more amazing. It's like her brain at this 19 months of age is a magnificent sponge. You can see the wheels turning wildly as she locks eyes with you and listens to what you say. And she repeats...everything. The good and the bad.
For some reason, when I say "shit" instead of "shibbles," she always repeats the scathing version but seems to dismiss the silly "teacher" substitue as lacking flare. She knows which words will make me blush when she repeats them at a dinner party.
We spent our rainy afternoon with some crayon fun.
Our gorgeous weekend also had Nora scampering off for her first solo-play in her bedroom with Veronica. Claire and Greg came over and it was so refreshing to have ample adult-talking time while our two big girls played on their own. Walking hand-in-hand down the hall to find their own space.
Claire and I with our gorgeous baby bumps.
The week also had dear friends from way back joining us for stories and Chinese take-out and laughter. It is such a joy to finally snag a moment to be with Janette and Daniela and our kids together. Women whose professional influence and personal support have uplifted and inspired me for years.
And why not end with videos of Nora reading a story and swinging with her dad. I swear she's going to look back at her childhood videos and photos and wonder where I am. I have to find a way to get Daniel behind the lens a bit more.
My friend Claire wrote a post recently about her "chosen family" and this has resonated with me this week as I think of the lovely people who have recently visited our home. To many their "family" may only mean those they were raised to love and respect. For me, just like for Claire, my friends are absolutely a huge part of who I consider "family." They are those that I have chosen to link my heart and mind. They spend their time with me, my daughter, my husband to cultivate our friendships and build our bonds. Words and stories and memories are woven. I am absolutely lost without regular contact with the women I call friends.
Nora's life will be filled with all types of "family" and we have been so fortunate lately that our home has been abuzz.
Lorraine and Michael helped to create a memorable "first bbq."
Claire, Greg, and Veronica stopped by for some fajitas and fun. Here V fiddles with both a tambourine and the drum.
Nora sporting her new hair-do, courtesy of her "Nona" (my mom). My mom, by the way, doesn't just do Nora's hair, she has been an AMAZING source of support to allow me some much-needed "me time" lately.
Lulu and I enjoyed our inaugural walk in galloshes. A special moment for me...an`avid lover of the gallosh.
Lisa and Carrie came with their pint-sized Ruby and Ollie to frolic outside after a long rain.
Four generations of my family enjoying the State of the Union speech last night. Nora would clap with the Democrats and even says "Bama, Bama, Bama."
She's trying on Daddy's gloves.
And although I never would have believed it, she actually LOVES drinking kale smoothies. I thought moms were making this up...but if you bury raw kale in the blender with some sort of milk base (we use hemp milk), wee bit of juice, frozen fruit, flax seed, and cottage cheese...she GULPS it down with glee.
Look at those peepers!
We enjoyed a crisp morning at the Nature Center near our house. Ruby and Carrie were our partners-in-crime. Here the girls touch the antlers and skulls on display.
I have long wanted to write about this special visit from Margie and Noah at the end of November. Since this blog serves as my journal...for my late-night-memory-jarring perusals of what life used to be, I wanted to post some of my favorite pics of Nora and her little friend Noah.
It was only a week before we would depart our home of five years on Vermont and head up towards the suburbia we now call home. The sun was setting. The tots were ablaze with energy and excitement and freshly-minted running ability.
I met Margie nearly a year ago. We both had four-month old peanuts and a bit of cabin fever. There were a few blankets spread upon the ground at an oceanside park for a picnic...we both had a desire to eat but a quandry of what to do with our babes. Taking turns was a natural option. And there it was - the meeting of Noodle and Nobey. Our sweet outfitted squishies lying upon the colorful blankets. Since then there have been many fabulous playdates. Fewer than Margie and I would like...but there have also been more ladies-only cocktail celebrations. Her friendship has become a true source of support, laughter, and understanding. This picture is from their first solo-playdate.
I can't help myself. One last lion picture (by Mark, a "Mommy & Me" friend's husband, and fabulous professional photographer). How lucky are we?
Every one of those whiskers, by the way, came with a fierce and loud shout. But worth it!
The best Halloween EVER!
And here's the merry gang of Halloween mamas. Celebrating on a gorgeous day in Seal Beach.
**Stay tuned for the cruel irony...after painting on her brown nose to her great irritation, she created her own bruised and scraped nose after falling down at the park. Her first official injury. A photo is to come...but the little lass is sleeping.
Nora attended her first Harvest Moon Festival yesterday. We packed up raisins, bananas, crackers, pears, apples, water, diapers, and picnic blankets and set out for the old ranch house nestled into the gated community near the college. We walked in as the drum circle was in full swing.
Nora was mesmerized...she couldn't be bothered to drum or shake gourds or talk to her little chums...she just stared. Bobbed up and down occasionally...and stood fixated. Drums might just be her instrument.
After the trance of drum circle, it was time to finger bumpy gourds, hay bales, bamboo trunks, and giant tree trunks.
And, of course, the lion costume came back out. You can't miss any opportunity to dress up with such a fantastic shiny jungle cat outfit at your disposal.
Here's the menacing shadow of one Ms. Lulu Bell.
Dancing to Van Morrison, Bob Dylan, and Beach Boys covers...mixing with leather-skinned women donning skeleton earrings and skirts far too short for their wise years. I even got a view of the orange underwear of a grandmother who enjoyed dancing with Noodle.
I have started to feel very connected to some of my "Mommy & Me" friends...certainly, most of us only share a common birth month of our children, and teething advice and conundrums about tantrum throwing; however, a few are falling gently into friends-beyond-motherhood category. Last night, as I sipped white sangria and scraped the side of an oreo mud pie with Margie, it struck me just how magnificent it is to once again have girlfriends close by...with whom to share my musings, my worries, and my hopes.
As much as I still miss my friends caught in LA, the geography of this So Cal urban sprawl causes distance far more than the mere 28 miles on a map. There are job schedules, day care, missed time with husbands, freeways, traffic, naps, and errands to contend with. These 28 miles turn into an hour drive each way...and since Nora still screams bloody murder during car rides, this keeps me bubbled in my beloved Long Beach...thinking of my old friends...and gratefully making new ones.
**Just in case you need reminding, Nora is now dispensing post-it flags. Helpful little bugger, no?
There is a blissful sweetness to fall. It has always meant my birthday (celebrated this year with a small family dinner), leaves changing colors, a crispness in the air, and pumpkins.
I have never been a fan of Halloween. Rarely dressing up and going to great lengths to darken the house, block access to the door with benches, and ignoring any adventurous trick-or-treaters who brave the obstacle course and knock on the door.
This year, Halloween took on a different flavor. An adorable costume, well-loved last year, landed in my lap (Thanks, Liz)...and suddenly, my little lion was roaring into a new level of cuteness. I can hardly stand it. And not only Nora, but her entire clan of animal, fruit, and funky friends...all clad in their finery at a warm afternoon picnic in the park just made me smile so much today.
A lioness, a skunk, and a cow went to a picnic.
The cave boy (that's her b-day friend, Shane) ran away in terror from the attacking lioness and skunk.
And finally, all of us moms managed to wrangle our vibrant characters for a picture.
Some other favorite costumed cuties. A Buddhist monk, twin strawberries, and Wonder Girl.
We roared into our morning with a visit to the local pumpkin patch with velvet-tongued goats nibbling kibble from Nora's hands, lovely turquoise carousel horses making her squeal with delight, and mountains of pumpkins and hay.
Ok, ok...the past few days I have been caught up in a frenzy about toddler feeding and nutrition. This morning was the crest of that wave.
My panic button was pressed.
The following sentence sent me into a spin of FIRST, wanting a donut; second, fearing for Nora; third, feeling anxious.
"Your child will grow up to feel about eating the way you do. If that gives you a little thrill of dismay and dread, you have work to do."
After leaving a frantic voicemail for Kathy, I had to step back and take a breath. A few of them.
First, no driving to a donut shop.
Second, Nora is going to be fine.
Third, my anxiety is not from this mountain of a mole hill. I feed Nora pretty well and she is a good eater...there's something else underneath at the root of all this.
Hmmmm...my stressors...
Part of it is that I am suddenly overwhelmed by the academic/professional void in my life since being out of work now for over a year. At first it was just awesome to NEVER have to go to work but t he initial euphoria of motherhood is no longer new. I have even caught myself looking longingly at my professional teacher slacks in the closet.
Calls and emails to pre-baby friends often (and understandably) go unanswered for a long time...I imagine that's because they are busy with their jobs. Applying their minds and time to something outside of the domestic sphere.
I used to be important (please don't tell me I'm important to Nora...I inherently get that). I mean that I used to be a highly-respected English teacher. Colleagues sought out my advice on curriculum, behavior issues, methodology. I was the mentor and coach to new teachers. I had a strong and passionate voice at staff meetings. Administrators praised my abilities. I was proud of being a teacher. Yes, I complained..but at the end of the day, I knew I was good at it. I used big words.
Parenting is different. Sure, on MOST days, I know that I have done a solid job parenting my daughter...but my brain still feels more and more gelatinous by the hours of grocery shopping, cleaning, dishes, laundry folding, dealing with cloth diapers, cooking meals, and the phenomenal hours of engagement and entertainment provided to Nora. Prior to motherhood, I did not particularly enjoy cooking and cleaning...and yet, there are now hours allocated each day to these tasks.
In addition to missing my profession, we are in the first week of escrow on a house. A gigantic step in the land of adult-financial-responsibility (more to come on this as the process moves along).
Daniel is also going to return to graduate school for the next 3-5 years to pursue his MBA...while we continue to move towards having a second baby.
A year ago, this entire list of items would have normally been discussed and vexed and mulled over with a beautiful group of friends. Friends that have busy lives...all of whom now work outside the home.
So, would I like some cheese with my whine? Yes, I would. A huge chunk of sharp, blue-veined, morbier, please...and a donut on the side.
Wait, isn't that how this post started? Coming full circle.
I ain't no therapist but looks to me like some "transference-to-food-of-anxiety-over-other-things".
Longing for genuine friendships and time to daily talk.
Missing my career of a decade.
Vexing about a potential 5 years of many nights/weekends of single-parenting of perhaps two (kind and veggie-filled) children.
Starting the process of buying a home in the midst of a major recession.
Huh, it's all making a lot more sense.
Because, truth be told, the advice from the book led to instant and amazing results. Not a single screaming fest since I gave up on my tricking and pleading and shenanigans at meal time.
Here's a photo spread that tells the following story from Lulu's perspective:
"Mom was stressed out about me eating vegetables, although, I really just wanted to eat them myself.
You see, I am devouring it when it's part of the tortilla casserole that her and Daddy eat.
I even got to drink from a cup by myself.
I didn't quite understand how to do it...but I was having fun.
Well, until it splashed on my face. I'll practice this more.
But my first "Independence Meal" ended well. I had lots of sauce in my hair and water on my clothes...but I'm a big girl.
Someone has clearly taken my "baby" Noodle and replaced her with a much more ambulatory, verbal, strong-willed, ravenous, and sleepy toddler.
The past few days have found us dancing to German folk music at an Oktoberfest and Nora toddling 8+ steps across the floor to deliver various toys or crumbs into our hands. It's fun...but has me often looking at her wondering "where is my baby?"
She is talking in her own special language. Certainly a mix of German and English that comes out in squeaks and bobbles and sign-language mish-mash. She has added "water, shoe, read" to her signs and also a fantastic verbal copy of Daniel's "putchyer, putchyer, putchyer, putchyer pants on." She now shouts "Putchyer! Putchyer!" anytime she's on her changing table and belts it out when putting on her shoes.
And although I do strongly resist the connotation wrapped up in pink-princess-glittery-overly-feminine clothing, I have put Nora in a dress on three occasions. She wore a baptismal dress, an Easter dress, and now this cocoa brown number. And admittedly, she was sweet in all of them.
With her orange cloth bootie peeking out from underneath, it was a colorful moment.
The feather cap of an ancient Bavarian boy also became an adorable exclamation point to our afternoon spent at the Phoenix Club's Oktoberfest.
We went with the lovely Carrie & Ed and their baby Ruby.
Along with Amy & Malta with their daughter Paloma.
A very authentic festival complete with real-live Germans selling bratwurst and beer, donning lederhosen and dirndles, and of course, large rings romping to the chicken dance. A truly horrifying dance that for some odd reason is repeated at every event pertaining to Germans.
There were, sadly, no Turkish foods, songs, or people (that I could obviously spot), to make me feel like I was at home with my peeps in Cologne...but that's a whole other post for another day.
I had to take some ridiculously cheesy photos.
We had a blast feeding Nora saurekraut and potato salad.
Sipping on giant beers while she danced under the German flag.
Playing with her amigas, Ruby and Paloma, on a picnic blanket...Lulu was the eldest child, the wise one (by one whole month!).
To see the complete set of Oktoberfest pictures, click here.
On the toddler-eating tip, I've been reading a great book given to me by my sister-in-law (who has her smarty-pants-enormous-brain doctorate in nutrition), Child of Mine: Feeding with Love and Good Sense by Ellyn Satter (also a giant well-used brain).
I was laughing yesterday as I underlined these key points below (having just shot the video of us wanting her to eat her broccoli mash the day before).
If a struggle emerges about eating, a toddler will get so involved with the struggle and so upset that it overwhelms her need to eat.
The diets of children of all ages suffer when parents go to extremes of being controlling on the one hand or failing to provide support and guidance on the other.
Children eat poorly when parents criticize, manage, or intrude on eating.
The more trouble parents take to make special food for a toddler, the more inclined the toddler is to reject the food.
Don't try to reason with her. She can't reason, it won't help her eating, and your efforts to persuade her will only teach her to use the issue as a bid for attention.
Children learn only if they get opportunities to learn.
Resist the impulse to entice, reward, play games, placate, and make special food.
She can use her fingers to feed herself, learn to use eating utensils, and drink from a cup.
She needs predictable feeding times, three meals and two snacks, and she needs help coming to the table rested and hungry but not famished.
Despite her erratic and sporadic hunger and appetite, she will get the calories she needs by averaging her eating out over several days.
So, hmmm...my giving her constant snacks when she begs, when she's fussing in the car, when she seems bored or irritated at a playdate, trying to force "green"' foods if she doesn't want them, worrying that she's eating too much fruit, not wanting her to get messy or spill food all over the floor and so feeding her most of the time...apparently all of that could use a few adjustments. Because frankly folks, I have some food issues. I eat WAY TOO much, too fast, and too often. I had asked Kathy for a book that would help me approach Nora's eating with some more thought than I give my own.
And I am amazed at just how often I contradict the above. How often Nora must have seen me eat a monstrous meal of unbalanced foods, eat out of the fridge/bag/box. How often she sees me eat when I'm upset, bored, happy...basically any emotion. I would like her not to turn to food for an emotional embrace. And as her primary food-provider, she is already taking some major cues from me. I carry her special snacks with me and dole them out all the time.
When did that happen, I wonder? This doling out of constant raisins, goldfish, mum-mums, crackers, cheerios, puffs? Most moms I know have these items on hand. And they aren't given at an official "snack-time" seated up at a table, but rather sprinkled around to keep a kid happy or quiet, help them calm down, stop crying, or allow a phone call or email to finish...or because the child is watching you snack and starts to beg for some (that's me!). I am doing all of these things...all the time.
But let me be clear...I am writing these words and NOT feeling guilt....because I am learning this gig as I move along. Always learning and adjusting to how I might serve Nora better.
Even if I stay against Nora having ingesting hormone-laced meat, insecticide-coated produce, salty foods, sugary sweets and drinking juice, if I've set the wheel in motion that she craves food whenever she feels any emotional high or low or boredom...(like her mama)...then I have still done her no favors.
So, I feel a renewed excitement about my approach to her eating. I am not proud of my relationship to food...but my daughter doesn't have to feel the same way. I am almost at the heaviest weight of my life (the same weight I was at 40 weeks preggers...this is painfully obvious in this photo from Sunday...wow, that's hard to look at!)
...but Noodle doesn't have to obsess about her weight the way I do.
Our days ahead will hold more opportunities for Nora to eat "regular" food, get messy, learn to pick it up, chew it up, and feel the textures. No wiping her mouth often, no feeding her on my hip without much thought given to sitting down.
She will not be forced to eat her veggies...but offered them regularly. No more gravy-train of snacks spilling out of the diaper bag. No more holding her at the kitchen counter and doling out snacks as I graze myself. I will stumble in my new path...but I am grateful for the information. This will not be a perfectly-straight path...it could never be. But I will try.
When you struggle daily with food, weight, body-image like I do, having a daughter and wanting a different experience for her, must be natural. But my habits are deeply entrenched...habits that I hope helping Nora not to acquire might help me to recognize more in myself. Oh, I'm sure there are books about how you are not to correct your own deep issues through your children - and maybe one day I'll read one of those, too...or Nora will hand it to me after seeking therapy!
I do want my heart to beat strongly into the future. And that will demand changes in my behavior. I always write this type of post here when I'm fed up. I send it out into the world to shake things up. I think these pictures of late, combined with my neighbor recently telling me that I always look frumpy and my grandma saying about Nora's birthday pictures, "Your face looks happy and the rest of you looks...well, your face is happy. Your cousin is losing weight and feeling really good about himself. Did you know that?" have struck a nerve. Yes, you don't need to tell me that these comments were mean. Spoken without malice...but still unkind.
Noodle always enjoys her pint-sized friends. Friday found us at birthday festivities and "goop & dust" parties. Both were a hoot.
Here are some of my favorite weekly pictures. Plus some adorable videos of her with her dad...reading and getting tickled.
Daniel and I are about to go out on a hot date. Yup, that's two dates in two weeks - a RECORD for us love birds. We would love to keep up this amazing streak of luck and babysitters.
Charlotte sharing a ball with Nora.
Susan helps Melissa blow out the candle.
Nora showing Lydia her downdog. She was not impressed.
Our "sensory" playdate. Each month, a lovely mom is going to set out various textures, surfaces, and materials for the kids. This month's inaguaral activity was goop and playdough and flour. Large troughs of cornstarch mixed with water for an awesome goop, homemade playdough in big sticky balls, and bowls full of floor to sift.
Nora was in hog heaven. Rubbing her hands all over her hair, drizzling goop on her lap, sifting flour in piles on her shirt.
She ended up in a blissful state of sticky, dirty, and nearly naked. Being allowed the ultimate treat of climbing our porch stairs over and over and over...coating her knees and hands with filth. It was indeed an easy journey to sleep last night. Her eyes closing and lips loosing their grip almost as soon as nursing began.
The infamous "daddy foot tickles." If he stops, she grabs his foot and brings it to her tummy for more. I can never get enough of watching these two.
And her new favorite book (since we try and hide "Goodnight, Gorilla" out of shear exhaustion).
Friday came and I thought fondly of the blocks. I was tempted to spell out 53 weeks and keep the tradition alive...but alas, photos will still be taken...just without the wooden fanfare. Monthly blocks will suffice for the next few years. At 24 months, I suppose even monthly shots will fade...then you start saying "two or two and a half or three."
Life is busy around here. In order to blog, I must let go of all or several items on the agenda: cleaning, showering, eating, coffee sipping whilst reading the paper or yoga. And often one or two of these things are just to precious to give up. I try to rarely be online on computer or phone when Noodle is awake. I would prefer her to not grow up thinking of my attention being glued to shiny screens - screens, by the way, that I don't let her enjoy. Hypocrisy starting early.
So, having a one-year old. What's so different? Nothing instanteneous but just the ever-present acknowledgement that she's our big girl. We stared at the monitor last night, as we often do right before bed, wanting to wake her up and play (which we NEVER do). And Daniel noticed just how huge her body is in the crib. It spans such length. She's so tall and grown up.
Her vocabulary is taking off. It's composed of signs and grunts that we convince ourselves we can accurately decipher. She can sign all of the following when prompted in German (and sometimes in English) "more, food, delicious, sleep" auf Deutsch "mehr, Essen, lecker, Schlafen" and has taken to calling Daniel "Dad" and me "Dada." Not sure where the "mama" dissapeared to in her noggin but we haven't heard it in a while. She loves to say "baby" and assundry grunts for "read, please, and help."
I am admittedly concerned sometimes as to how my German (with all of its grammatical weakness) is going to affect her vocabulary. Perhaps she will be delayed in her speech as she muddles through the landscape of the English and Deutsch at home. But it is my passion and I enjoy learning this language and sharing it with her. Not to mention my German friends and their babies who anxiously await our visit in Cologne. It will be so special to have Nora seated at the table and able to understand the conversations between us.
Well, while Lulu Bell sprouts in her independence, Daniel and I have also found more moments to relish our own. For Father's Day, Claire and I presented our favorite fathers with tickets to TV on the Radio at the Hollywood Bowl. It would be a night of friendship, picnic baskets, wine, and the sun setting to fantastic music. And it was.
By the end of the night, Claire had got us all up and dancing. Shaking our head, waving our hands, tapping our feet.
And while we danced, Noodle had her first sleepover at my mom's. Which was easy-peasy, I might add. She ate, drank a bottle, and slept from 7pm until 6am...in her little crib next to my mom's bed...not a peep all night. By the time I arrived at 7:30am, she was already finished with breakfast and listening to her new favorite musical obsession, Sam Cooke's "Chain Gang." Any song by Mr. Cooke gets her all excited with two swirling and shoulders jumping and head bobbing.
It was a glorious "first night away" and one that had me missing her far more than she missed me. Probably the way it always is with your kids.
Our dancing feet will have to find more reasons to tap into the night while Nora slumbers sweetly.
Video time. Here's our basket climber, walker, and reader. She is obsessed with Goodnight, Gorilla. She asks us to read it over and over and over...and over every day.
