Two Solos, One Duet

Our wedding at the Pittsburgh Aviary in 2004

 This past weekend, Gregory and I celebrated seven years of marriage. SEVEN. For some readers, that will sound like an eternity. For others, you might be thinking, ha! try thirty!

 I get caught up in the numbers because:

(1) How can I be old enough to be celebrating my 7th wedding anniversary?
(2) I have never even stayed at a job for that long.
(3) The past seven years have literally felt like seven minutes. We were just on our honeymoon. Yet, we are surrounded by three small people that we have somehow given life to in that span of time.

Boozin it up on our honeymoon cruise!

 We attended a family wedding in June and friends of the bride were stalking the guests for marriage advice and memories for a video scrapbook. If I am like most people, I was dreading the moment the video camera came around to me for advice. It's so hard to quantify in words the concept of marriage and true partnership, let alone give someone else tips on how to do it right! There are some basics I know (fidelity, honesty, kindness, respect and humor), but many that I don't. I remember babbling something off the top of my head and hoping that I didn't sound like an idiot.

  I could spend this entire post gushing about all the ways I love my husband. He is kind, giving, thoughtful, patient, affectionate, respectful, hilarious, really attractive, a great kisser... and I'll stop there before the romance gets on your nerves. :) But what I am most grateful for? Gregory is my partner in every way. Having three little kids often gets in the way of our communication and time sometimes (or on a daily basis), but I know that he will do whatever it takes to make our life work together. We don't have the type of marriage where there is "woman's work" or "man's work"; we define those things for ourselves. So here is my public thank you and appreciation for all that you are, Gregory! You have brought me so much joy and I am thankful for you.

 As for marriage advice and what I have learned through seven years of partnership, there are two standards mantras that married couples hear. The first is that "you should never go to bed angry". To be completely honest, I think that advice is pretty tired. And Gregory will probably laugh at that because one of my faults is that I actually like to go to bed angry. Or more specifically, I like to process my anger and hold it in until I can get my thoughts into words. That doesn't happen automatically for me at bedtime. I could write you a ten page letter describing my feelings before I could actually tell you out loud. The fact remains that all people process disagreements, anger and resolution in different ways and I don't necessarily think that going to bed angry is bad for all couples. It's what you do with that anger in the morning that counts.

 The second piece of advice refers to the bible verse describing how the man and woman leave their parents and start a new family. If I have learned anything, this advice is crucial. It doesn't mean that you abandon your parents, siblings, aunts, uncles and grandparents: but when you get married (even without the thought of having children), your spouse should become your primary concern. Just like other relationships are special, the bond between you and your partner deserves it's own protection and recognition. It's part of growing up, part of forging a new life.

 But what the hell do I know?

 I know that we celebrated our anniversary with the new wok Gregory bought for me (us). We made green bean and zucchini tempura, banana mango daiquiris, thai chicken with cilantro sauce... and subsequently did not have any room for dessert. I can't wait to try the bamboo steamer.

 Gregory gave me a beautiful collage of pictures this past Christmas, with a quote that rings true for me every day....

 "A long marriage is two people trying to dance a duet and two solos at the same time." 

  Amen to that. Here's hoping to 70+ more years of balancing our solos and duet!

Happy Birthday Baby!

How does a baby transition from this...

to this in the span of a year?

 

Forget the miracle of birth, it's what a baby is capable of learning in the first year of life that just blows me away! For almost all of Elliot's life, our family has been in "transition". Gregory went to Oklahoma before Elliot could sit up, we moved him to a different state before he could roll over and now he is climbing onto the dishwasher and kitchen counter.

 And yet, he is definitely the happiest, most content person I know. I think all three of my children are stunningly beautiful and amazing - but it's only been with Elliot that strangers stop us everywhere we go to comment on him. Yes, his dimples are ridiculously cute. But I feel it is more his engaging personality that makes people stop and want to talk to him. One of Elliot's favorite activities is riding around in the grocery store cart, yelling and waving and smiling at people. 

I am less of a numbers/timeline mother with Elliot (I can't really remember how much he has weighed at each and every check-up) as I was with the other two. I don't worry about when he will hit his milestones. I am just enjoying the baby stage while it lasts. I know too well what is in store for us when Elliot starts to walk, talk and defy his parents! 

 Maybe part of the reason I am so infatuated with the baby stage this time around is that these feelings balance the high amount of anxiety I felt about being pregnant with our third baby. I was so nervous about how we were going to manage, the timing just seemed all wrong. And now I see what a joy and light Elliot brings to our family - that it was so silly of me to "question" anything about it! 

 So Happy Birthday baby Elliot (as of last Friday), we love you dearly!

(Even if you are crying and resisting bedtime right now!)

Enjoying his birthday dessert of strawberry shortcake.

The Brat Ban

 I am more than a little disturbed by a new business trend. No kids allowed. Which in essence, also means no parents allowed for many, many parents in the world who do not have reliable babysitters.

 In response to the apparent deconstruction and overthrow of stable society (sarcasm) that babies and toddlers present in America: many business owners are banning children entirely from their establishments.  They've had too many "complaints" from other patrons that loud, crying children have ruined their dinners (or movies or flight).

  A friend posted this article last night, and I went to bed angry about the state of the world. And the state of child-less adults in America. And the empty nesters who are now arrogant and have forgotten what their lives were like thirty years ago. And the parents in support of banning kids, who say that they love kids but think every other parent is doing a terrible job and don't "manage" their children in public.

 First of all, if you are the parent of a single child who is under one year old: your opinion is not yet valid. Just as my opinion about dealing with teenagers isn't valid yet - I haven't fought that battle yet. Babies loves to go out to eat before they realize they can walk. They sit happily in their chairs, swoon at the bright lights and yes, make messes under the table - but that's why vacuums were invented. Then your precious little baby can't sit still for more than five seconds and every trip to a restaurant is a battle between constant toddler entertainment and tiredly, hungrily trying to feed yourself.

 I am so tired of the judgemental, know-it-all parents that act like they are doing a superior job to every other parent out there. Especially when those said parents have the luxury of leaving their kids with grandparents, friends, neighbors that they trust. We have lived in Buffalo now for six months and have only managed ONE date night. And we brought Elliot. Gregory's cousins were kind enough to babysit for a few hours - but we still don't feel okay leaving all three kids with someone. It's just too much to handle. We went to a nice restaurant, ordered a bottle of wine and perhaps he made a peep that upset another patron. For the most part, though, people were waving and smiling at him unprompted. No one's night was ruined and we were certainly valued as customers even though we had one of those ghastly babies in our presence.

  It's not so much the "brat ban" that upsets me (sure, it is nice to have peace and quiet at dinner), but the sentiment behind it. What is wrong with our society that we hate families so much? Coupled adults that choose to not have children - good for you, that is a valid choice. But you are not better than me. You are not more enlightened and you are not more privileged. Sorry. When you leave your childless, pristine home and enter the public: you are going to encounter people under the age of six. They are messy and loud, but a part of society nonetheless. You run the risk of being annoyed in a public place, be it a movie theatre, airplane, restaurant or sidewalk.

 I think this is bad business. I would avoid a restaurant that banned children even if I were going out without them (a vision! an impossible dream!). It's rude. I would think smart restaurant owners would welcome the business of new parents, in the hope they would make a life-long customer. Because, in fact, who needs a meal more than a tired parent who just can't take another mess under their own kitchen table? This is a slippery slope. It's not just kids that make venturing out into public an annoyance. I despise anyone who talks loudly during a movie, or yells at their waitress in a restaurant or is, ahem, too large to fit in their own seat on the airplane. Who's banning them? My kids are learning early how to behave in a public forum, not perfectly of course, but I still think they have better manners than most adults.

 I could go on and on about this for many a paragraph, but will stop with this sentiment. Why do businesses always cater to the loudest complainer? My years in the hotel industry proved that managers will cave under the pressure of irrational complaints. This ban on kids may gain steam for awhile, but my guess is that smart businesses will push back and recognize that while parents might not be the ones complaining like real adult brats (and getting their way for the moment), their spending power will be missed. 

Mugshots

My children should be arrested.... for CUTENESS! 

Our neighborhood of Lancaster, NY has tons of free/almost free activities for the summertime. Ayla is currently enrolled in an art class and both older kids have their first swimming lesson at the high school tomorrow afternoon. They get almost three weeks of swim lessons, every day, at the whopping cost of $5 a kid! Good thing I missed the enrollment date for the Y... we would have paid $40 for the same thing. 

To partake in these activities, though, I had to take my kids and their birth certificates to the Recreation office for some photo IDs. It was so worth the trip. 

The headband look just kills me.

I have a feeling that Jackson is going to have the same haircut when he goes for his driver's license in 13 years. That mop looks so good on him!

 And here's the best for last...what baby has ever had his own ID? 

I had to hold Elliot above my head so they could take his picture "solo".

"Night night time! GO Dadda's House!"

 Those words are Jackson's battle cry when he is done for the day. Or at least done for the moment. If he falls or realizes that he needs a nap or loses a battle over a toy with Ayla, he always cries, "Night night time!"

 We are often more than happy to oblige and I am still so thrilled that he is articulating what he needs, after a comparatively slow development using words. Jackson took his time talking, and we spent much of last year guessing what he wanted, because almost everything was described by the word "Adee!" There was many a frustrating moment with me standing at the kitchen cabinet, searching for the snack he was pointing out...Jackson saying "adee" over and over and shaking his head as I picked the wrong item.

  Whatever mental roadblock we were facing, promptly disappeared when Gregory returned from his ATC training last December. (I think we were all in a psychological slump during that time.) Words started to spew from Jackson's mouth easily and he's putting together some very coherent sentences now. Just like any parent, I stressed about something that eventually resolved itself.

 Now he won't stop telling (more like yelling) us what he wants to do...every...second...of...the...day. 

 The other night, we attended CanalFest in the suburb of Tonawanda. The rumor was that the fireworks were pretty bomb - and after watching the 4th of July fireworks through the branches of a tree, we needed a good fireworks fix.

 We wandered around the carnival for an hour, spending an atrocious $10 for one ride on the Ferris wheel and indulged in funnel cakes and fried Oreos. The town of Tonawanda was nuts, so crowded with people... it took us a harrowing, claustrophobia-inducing 10 minutes to cross over a bridge to find a somewhat secluded spot for fireworks-watching. Gregory knew which bridge they were launching the fireworks from, and we sat down on a curb close to that point.

 Then the artillery started, or so one would assume from the loud, blasting noises and bright lights! We were so close to the fireworks that I could hear/feel the blasts exploding in my head. Ayla was loving it, Elliot looked at me to gauge the situation (once I smiled at him, he was assured).... and Jackson lost his mind. Crying, covering up his face and yelling, "Night night time! Go Dadda's house now!". So, for the entire fireworks show, he cried, cowered and basically hated life.

"No mer fireworks!"

 Who ever thought that one of Gregory's children would hate fireworks? Perhaps we caught him at the wrong time of day; next time we will try our luck sitting more than 10 feet away from the blast-off bridge. At least the Ferris wheel was a success.

Fly Me to the Moon.... oh, wait....

  (As always, I preface any commentary on current events with the disclaimer that I am never really "current" anymore. It is doubtful that I hear about anything happening outside of my block, let alone politically or internationally - unless I get a spare half hour to peruse the internet instead of wiping someone's heinie.)

  Tonight, all heinies have been wiped and I wanted to read more about the end of the space shuttle program. I knew that the astronaut program was coming to an end, and that the final launch was scheduled earlier this month. It made me sad, mostly because it essentially takes away a very specific dream. Maybe I am nostalgic because I watched my brother go to space camp in 1986, and subsequently attend the Air Force Academy after high school.

 But isn't "astronaut" one of the top three answers for all little kids when you ask them what they want to be when they grow up? My children's generation will not be able to say that. They can certainly still have dreams to be a space engineer or something akin to that, but damn! it's just not quite as exciting when you are dressing up as your dream for Halloween.

 We watched a series about the beginning of the space program in the 1950's (somebody help me with the title, can't remember!). It was spectacular. The time, money and sense of adventure necessary to develop a space program in the first place was epic. It was the assertion of USA as a super-power and an extension of what our country believed about themselves. We simply can't understand what it was like for our parents to sit and watch the "moon landing" on television. Unreal, unbelievable and goose-bump inducing. (Unless you think that it was a hoax, of course.) Exploration outside of our home, our planet, is mind-boggling and I think, a necessary dream.

My parents took this photo while watching the Moon Landing on July 20th, 1969.

 Politics aside, I can understand that if we need the money on earth to handle medical care, housing, peace-keeping, etc., then maybe stepping on the moon again in 2020 isn't the top priority. But I say that with the expectation that this stoppage in the space program is only temporary. It's not fair that this temporary lull will affect this generation, but it is with the hope that we can save the money now and develop better, safer technologies in the future. Let robots figure out the voyage to Mars for a few decades and then give people the chance to look back at the Earth through a window instead of reading about it in a book.

 Can you continue reading and consider me a sane person if I say that I still think the government will be conducting space research? Insert conspiracy here... I'm just saying. Go ahead, Washington, do it in secret...just keep doing it in Area 51.

 Well-written articles like this give me hope that there is a plan. We still, as a human race, will be able to dream about space exploration. And if we don't think it is an important part of the budget now... we will when we fulfill our Wall-E destiny and cover the Earth with garbage.

 For now, we can feel better and join Tina Fey and Buzz Aldrin by screaming at the idiot moon.

Easier than a trip to Target

 Some parents would cringe at the thought of flying with their young children... let alone on a "flexible" schedule as a standby passenger. But personally, most of my experiences have been more enjoyable than a standard trip to Target.

I flew to Minneapolis on Thursday, traveling via Pittsburgh and then Chicago. Hopping on a plane in the burgh was painless, but I had to wait out three full planes in Chicago. It is disheartening to see your name twenty down on the standby list and zero seats left. But, by mid-afternoon I was comfortably sitting next to a family (with two loud kids of their own!) on the way to my final destination.

I flew last November with a nearly newborn Elliot and hyper, overstimulated Ayla. So traveling with only one baby this time is exactly 100% easier. I find it humorous that other travelers look at me and a baby like I am carrying the black plague. I know people talk about "babies on planes" as the most annoying concept in the world... but I can think of about a million more aspects of traveling that are worse.

Like sitting next to a person who hasn't bathed in a week. Or having to use the barf bag. Or realizing you have pee when the beverage cart is blocking your path to the bathroom.

All in all, there are so many distractions and exciting elements for a baby to look at... that all of my kids have been more than happy to sit and behave in the enclosed space of an airplane than in the cart at the grocery store.

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