The latest scoop...

I get an email subscription to some babycenter update that tells you "what to expect!" every couple of weeks. It always says something like, Your 3 year-old, learning to share (ha!) or Your 16 month old, Week 3, he's really moving now! They're a little bit cheesy but reaffirm my beliefs that Ayla and Jackson are right on track developmentally.

Every parent is overly excited by the simplest acts their child can perform. I'll admit to bragging about, well, everything. I remember when Ayla first started to vocalize. Even a whale-like noise at 2 months was enough for me to pull out the video camera. And then there was chewing food! And sitting up! And standing up in the crib! And taking a dirty diaper off in the crib! Even if what they have done is mischievous or disgusting - I secretly think it is awesome.

So what's new with Ayla?

1. She lives in the world of pretend. Right now, she is sitting on the couch and laughing hysterically at herself and all of her "friends" (small plastic animals). Some are babies, some are mommas and dadas, and they are having a lively conversation. At any given moment, Ayla is either Snow White or Ariel or Sleeping Beauty. Yesterday she woke me up with "true love's kiss" as a prince. So far, she isn't very gender specific. :)
2. She has been potty-trained during the day for over a year now. We've graduated to taking naps without diapers and I see promise for nighttime too. She has now taken to the habit of taking off a wet diaper in the middle of the night and getting up to go to the bathroom. It is VERY strange for us to hear a toilet flush after both kids have been put to bed.
3. She wants to do everything herself. Getting dressed, brushing her teeth, pouring out snacks, opening the little Babybel cheeses, taking medicine, etc. It's definitely a lesson in patience for me.
4. She loves to draw and paint. She is also becoming adept with scissors. But she demonstrated that by cutting her own hair today.
   
5. And man, does she know how to express her feelings. The most popular phrase right now is "I'm frustrated. This is unacceptable!"
   
6. On the other hand, she has the strangest terms for talking about affection. About once a day, Ayla will put her arm around me and say, "Mama you're my friend." That one makes sense. But when she really likes someone, she calls him or her a grandpa/grandma. She doesn't even call her actual grandparents by those names!
7. After months of pushing her bike out on the sidewalk with her feet on the ground, Ayla has mastered the pedals. I can't wait for next summer to get her going on a bigger bike.
   
8. She counts to eleven. After reaching eleven, she starts randomly spouting the numbers over again, "three, seven, three, four, one, five".
9. She tolerates Jackson's presence most of the time. He can play with toys, as long as he doesn't interfere with her plans. There is a lot of pushing and the words, "Jackson, NO!" echo through our house. But when he is hurt or crying, she instantly becomes a loving sister, full of kisses and hugs. I'll take it when I can get it.
10. She has always had a wonderful appetite - barely ever turning away a food. She loves vegetables and fruits, seafood, etc. But every time I put any effort into dinner, she refuses to eat it.
11. But most importantly, she has a great sense of humor. Her favorite game to play with me is sticking out her tongue and dramatically leaning in to try and lick me. It's worse than tickling, knowing that she will full on lick your face.

Here she is, after stuffing two balls in her dress and showing off her new "bikinis"!

And how is Jackson?

1. He has twelve teeth and there are more on the way. He's been drooling continuously for the last nine months. He also knows how to use these teeth as a method of defense.
   
2. Along with walking, he is dancing. I'm not exaggerating - he twirls, he bounces, he shakes his booty. I'm just waiting for his first break-dancing move.
3. He regularly says, "Dada, Ayla, baba (bottle), uh oh, and hi". Please take note that Momma is NOT one of his top words. For the words he hasn't quite gotten yet, he is learning sign language. Over the weekend, a friend Sara taught him the sign for "more", as in "give me MORE food already!" and he's been using it at every opportunity.
4. He climbs UP the stairs. Only up. This means he spends a lot of time at the top of the stairs frustrated because Ayla has left him there....again.
   
5. His first real attachment to a toy has been a talking babydoll. It gurgles and purrs and he absolutely LOVES it. His face lights up like it Christmas and hugs it close, patting it on the back. I know he really loves it because he tries to hide it from Ayla, the smart boy.
6. He always uses a fork at mealtimes.
7. He is very interested in the cats, much to their horror. He enthusiastically pets and grabs big chunks of fur - Dragonski is the biggest glutton for punishment. The other cats flee instantly when he points at them, but she sits there, hissing. Whatever.
8. He is the master imitator. If Ayla had a shadow, it's name would be Jackson. I am constantly amazed by what he understands.
   
9. No one is allowed to use a cell phone, computer keyboard or remote control without his involvement.
10. He is extremely cute and knows it. When I scold him for anything, he turns on his charm and smiles, waves, blows kisses - basically anything to break you down.
11. Jackson is an accessory man. He loves necklaces and scarves. I think the word love is an understatement. I have a feeling that someday he will be picking out my outfits.

Parenting before noon

The same conversation keeps happening to me. When I say "happening to me" it means I'm answering questions and talking about a subject that is really a non-issue in my life. But yet, this subject comes up A LOT. It's not controversial or altogether interesting - it is the issue of what time my kids wake up in the morning (and likewise how late they stay up at night).

It's true that parents do spend a good chunk of their day contemplating mundane details of their children's lives. We care more about their lunches, outfits, playtime activities, etc. than our children do. Parents also often question whether they are making the right choices. Can I buy non-organic milk because it is affordable? (I feel just a little bit guilty every time I do...) How much television is stimulating without becoming mind numbing?

But I'm not concerned with their sleeping schedules. At all.

It is also true that parents have the distinct ability to be overly critical of other parents. Most of the people who hear that our kids sleep in just accept it as another part of life. Some are jealous. (And to those who have children who are early risers, you have my utmost respect. I've woken up early with both Ayla and Jackson - it's just not a consistent occurence. If I could choose, I wouldn't do any parenting before noon.) And some parents are overtly sarcastic and rude. If they see us out before noon, it's "Ohhh! Good morning!". They can't seem to distinguish the difference between not being able to get up early for anything or simply choosing not to. If we don't have anything pressing to attend to, why in the hell should I be bothering sleeping children at 7 am? One particular unemployed family member who happens to have the most erratic sleeping schedule on the planet, is the most persistent in bringing up this subject. I know it is mentioned with the specific intent to try to embarrass us and Gregory and I end up feeling like we have to defend ourselves.

We like the way we sleep. It fits with our lives and work schedules. Gregory and I work a combination of days and nights, which means we are home at different times than the "traditional family". On most Tuesday afternoons you can find all of us at home, lounging in our pajamas. It is one of Gregory's days off and I don't start until five. Fast forward to Friday night at 10 pm and I might not have started bath time yet. Try calling us at 8 am on a Saturday morning and I promise you'll get voice mail. Why? Because it works for us.

And for all of the people that need reasons for why I'm not rising with the sun every day, here they are:

• No one is in school. Ayla will have preschool next year, so we are choosing to spend our time at other classes in the meantime. Dance class or swim lessons or reading hour at the library. I'm just not going to choose the earliest session. Jackson's agenda extends to walking down the street to the park - and amazingly, it's there in the afternoon as well.
  
• Gregory and I have chosen to work opposite shifts to keep our kids out of daycare. Therefore, we don't have a lot of time together from day to day. Sometimes we aren't sitting in the same place until midnight after one of us returns from the closing shift at either restaurant. Other couples catch up over dinner after 5 pm. We hang out a little bit later than that.
• I'm not a morning person and never will be. I've tried. For years, I woke up to the alarm at 5 am and worked the corporate job I hated. Now add kids to that scenario. I would be sleepwalking through life right now and I certainly wouldn't be as patient with my two lively kids.
• Most importantly, Ayla and Jackson don't know the difference. They are still developing normally despite the fact they sleep in until 10 or 11 am. Shocking! These are precious years when they aren't overscheduled with activities and can wake up leisurely in their own home.

• It just isn't logical to put half of our family on a different schedule. I like to get as much sleep as possible (though 8 hours seems to be the max I can achieve). If I'm not getting into bed until 2 am, why would I intentionally have my kids waking up at 7 am?

I think part of this judgemental attitude ties into the overall disdain for a non-traditional arrangement. We're not losers because we work at night and on weekends. I am not a bad mother because I need to have an outside career. Gregory is not a failure as a man because he'd rather be home making bacon and eggs. In fact, we work about half the time for the same amount of money. Set your alarm to that one!

Pictures to prove it...

Spanks and Flaps

Perverts! Why are you reading my post about spanks and flaps? So what if this is what I do in my spare time, does it have to be shared on the internet? Yes, yes it does. Because I'm talking about tap dancing. I am re-learning how to flap and spank (a backward flap if you must know) and shuffle and perfect those tricky time steps. It's been more than a decade since I found myself in a tap class, sweating, concentrating and having the best time ever.

I spent a majority of my youth dancing at Carol Leone's in Moon Township. That's not an exaggeration. Let's try to figure this out. I started at age 3 and stopped at 17. For the last six years, I spent about twelve hours a week either in tap, ballet, jazz, modern, lyrical or pointe class. Six years times 12 hours times 40 weeks a year.... 2880 hours just in the later years, approximately 120 days. That's quite obsessive considering it wasn't a competitive sport.

But, after graduating high school and moving on to college, where things were either too serious or too rudimentary - I took up ballroom dancing. My boyfriend at the time joined the Penn State Ballroom Dance Team with me and we actually started to compete. Yeah, the competitions attracted a lot of nerds, but I had a great time. There was even a blue ribbon for beginner Rhumba, but you know - it's not all about the ribbons! :)

The catalyst that brought me back to Carol Leone's is Ayla - she is 3 years old and I wanted to see if dance would be her thing. I have enrolled her in the creative movement and gymnastics there and so far she has chosen to "sit on the bench and relax" instead of jumping around in circles with the other little girls. I help with her class, so I don't mind - I still get to wear my ballet shoes and dance to the Locomotion.

I have such ridiculously fond memories of dancing with my friends at Carol's. We carried our obnoxious tendencies into the studio and would yell every time the teacher would say our chosen word of the day, or do all the warm-ups backwards on the bar. One friend, who I won't incriminate, always farted during the "serious" stretches and I still crack up every time I think about it. We were never made to feel badly about our bodies (or at least I didn't) - it wasn't that type of dance environment. We had fabulous teachers who dedicated hours of their lives teaching us correct posture and rewinding videos to perfectly dissect a music video.

And while Ayla is warming up to the idea of dancing, I'm going to take advantage of the adult tap class. It is taught by the first dance teacher I ever had, she was great in 1983 and I'm appreciating her on a new level as an adult. Our tap class was great tonight, ranging from a few girls just out of college to some pretty rockin' older ladies. The muscle memory is bringing me back to place where I can jump across the floor with taps on my shoes, thinking "toe, heel, step, dig, repeat!"

Are you thinking it can't get any better? We tapped to Michael Jackson - all my dreams are coming true.

Holden Beach, the Last Part!

This blog is a lot like the ongoing to-do list that I have in my head. It doesn't quite matter when I get things completed, as much as the satisfaction of doing it, well, eventually... For example, I'm almost done with our honeymoon scrapbook. I have started Jackson's first year digital scrapbook and occasionally I look at a quilt that I started in high school. I think about this stuff in between cooking and cleaning up dinner or late at night when I can't sleep.

So, more than a month later, I am finishing up the Holden Beach vacation trilogy. It's at least one more thing I can cross of my list of neurotically-charged tasks.

Gregory had booked us a hotel in Roanoke, VA to break up the drive home. We had stopped in Charlottesville, VA for the return trip in March and we enjoyed seeing a new city and giving our kids the opportunity to stay in a hotel. Or, as Ayla calls them, "swim-hotels". It's also nice to just have some time as a little family unit and decompress before jumping right back into our work schedules.

We said goodbye to family at the beach house and hopped in the car for a 6-hour drive. Both of our kids were so sun-kissed and energized by the vacation that they blissfully slept and made it an relatively easy trip. (Any trip with two toddlers has to be categorized as "relatively easy". )

The hard thing about traveling with kids is that you have to worry about getting where you want to go, eating, drinking, going to the bathroom and keeping them happy the whole time. Sitting still is not on Ayla & Jackson's list of priorities. Once we arrived in Roanoke at our swim-hotel, it was getting close to dinner time, but yet, we had to give these two crazies a chance to run around.

A little dip in the pool, and we were ready to find a place to eat. We consulted the GPS and the little advertising pamphlets in the hotel lobby and tried our best to pick a place that appeared kid-friendly. The plan was to avoid all of the chain restaurants we have at home and try a new steakhouse. We put the address in the GPS and navigated our way through the nearby shopping plaza. And as we pulled up... it was closed with glaring out of business signs! It was so pathetic I had to laugh. It was off to Red Robin.

Our meal was good, we managed to keep all breakable items out of reach and keep all good foods within reach. One pet peeve: having lame, boring people stare at us while we eat. So Jackson is waving at every person that near our table, especially people working in the kitchen. And Ayla announces a few bites into her chicken skewer that "I have to go poo-poo!" Gregory and I are both trying to have an alcoholic beverage and the contents of the sugar caddy are on the floor. But we were seated in one of those long rows of individual tables with one side being a continuous bench... and we always have to be put a little too close to people not interested in talking with each other, but with staring at us. Not a judgemental staring, but we are just fortunate enough to be the focus of their attention for the 1/2 hour because the tv's are too far away.

After some surprisingly good kids meals, we headed back to the hotel. The pack-n-play was set up in the bathroom (Jackson should be getting used to this right now!) and we tried to get Ayla to fall asleep while we watched some television. We're not like most parents who pass out alongside our kids at 9 pm... it's just too hard for 2 night owls to handle. But Ayla wasn't having it. She wanted to chill with mama and dada on the couch. It is our vacation, after all.

The next morning, we took another swim and I inadvertently stole breakfast from the restaurant. I just kept strolling in and out of the a la carte area grabbing a yogurt here and a danish there. I thought breakfast was included in the room! Oh well. I know for a fact that most of that food just ends up in the garbage, so I was just saving them the trouble.

The second part of our drive always includes the back, winding hills of Virginia. They're beautiful, uncrowded, picturesque... and they make Ayla throw up every time. We always get duped, thinking we've made it and give her the bottle she's been begging for and then all of sudden, we hear the dreaded cough, cry and "I don't feel good" before vomits starts flying. I had a bag ready to go, but Ayla can't manage the projectile and it sailed right over my open bag. On her fuzzy, on the carseat, on her clothes, on Jackson too! It makes me very happy that I'm not sitting in the backseat. The good point is that she is a tough girl and recovers quickly.

But, it's our only route to get home without ending up on the other side of Pennsylvania and we get to stop for beautiful photo ops.



We made the rest of the trip without incident and knew that the arrival at our beautiful home was what we all needed. (Refer to the Refrigerator Zen post). We enjoyed yet another relaxing week at Holden Beach, but it was time to jump back into our crazy lives.

The Sewickley Police Beat

Anyone who grew up in or near Sewickley is probably familiar with the "crime" section of the Sewickley Herald. It is always titled, "Sewickley police respond to a variety of calls"... and it never fails to entertain!

In a small community like ours, the gossip is rampant and even the printed newspaper gives in to our sick need to know all of the nasty details about a person's run-in with the law. The paper never hesitates to give full names, addresses, etc. when reporting that a local has been incriminated or arrested for any given crime. I think that's a little mean. Maybe because I've been hit personally in the past. I have never been arrested OR listed in the crime section of the paper - but my father was in late 1980's. He was charged with a white-collar crime of taking money from the bank where he worked. It is what it is - definitely not legal and definitely not right, but did it need to be publicized to our neighbors?

I can understand warning the public about a person who has been continually busted for DUI's or for any sexual assault. But, honestly, do we need to know when someone hasn't paid their property taxes? If it's not a danger to me or my family, I don't need to know the details. Nine times out of ten, the section is just humorous - a bona fide waste of ink and paper.

- "On Sept. 10th police were dispatched to Davis Lane for a report of a man yelling into the woods. Police arrived but found no one."

Riveting, right? Almost every entry ends with "police found nothing" or "area was abandoned". The paper is almost teaching us how to play pranks on the police (not that I would ever do that and risk getting MY name put in the crime section!) They never find anything on these dispatches!

-"On Sept. 11th around 6:20 pm, police were dispatched to the 400 block of Walnut Street for a group of juveniles skateboarding in the street. Police told the kids to move along."

WOW. Really? Who the eff cares? I want to read that the police scolded the tattle-tale who called them in the first place for (1) being lame and (2) wasting everyone's time. It's just so stereotypically Sewickley. Not that I mind the low crime rates and minor issues of random strangers yelling into the woods (maybe he was just angry at a squirrel?). But what makes it Sewickley is that this news is printed on the 2nd page and read by all. And then we blog about it. :)

Michael Jackson died

Master of the obvious, I know, but this is what Ayla has been telling everyone she has met all summer long. It must have been a monumental event in her 3-year old world. "Dead" is a new word in her vocabulary (thankfully), but that doesn't mean she gets the concept. She will say, "... he was dying and dying and dying." She just knows that it was, and is, a big deal. Both Mommy and Daddy cried. We started playing his music non-stop and the old posters went up in her little brother's room (more on that later).

It has been a few months since I shockingly saw on the news that MJ was hospitalized... and then that he had passed away. I was at work, trying to convey to my co-workers that, yes, seriously, I was upset. Don't misinterpret this - I couldn't care less about celebrity gossip. Yes, it's always sad when a person passes away, but just because I saw them in a movie doesn't make it personal. I didn't know them and nothing gets on my nerves more than a mediocre celebrity becoming infamous just because of an untimely death. The actual people in our own lives deserve more attention. But, with that said, my man MJ is an exception to that rule.

First of all, I was a product of the 80's. Anyone growing up then can pinpoint a time in their young childhood when "Thriller" debuted on Mtv or watched Moonwalker endlessly or made up dances to his music at slumber parties. And this wasn't an individual obsession, my entire family was there. It was the only time Mtv was even allowed. John Mayer said, "A major strand of our cultural DNA has left us. RIP MJ. I think we'll mourn his loss as well as the loss of ourselves as children listening to Thriller on the record player." So true. The loss of ourselves. We have somehow connected a love of his music and dancing to an innocent, happy, awe-struck period in our lives.

Secondly, I never grew out of that. A good friend and I once dictated letters to Michael onto a cassette tape. This was around the time of "Heal the World" and the Free Willy movie. We told him how we thought he was a wonderful person and his lyrics really meant a lot to us. Yeah, we were dorks, but I never did that for any other celebrity! I could totally relate to seeing people freak out and faint at his concerts, how would YOU react if you really saw the moonwalk in person? And when I watched the "Remember the Time" music video, I saw my life's dream as becoming a back-up dancer for MJ.

Then came the poster in college, given to me by Jenn. Quite possibly the greatest gift of all time. Most of the pictures are posted on Facebook, but this poster followed me everywhere I went. Yeah, it's funny to joke about grabbing his crotch or the white glove or a high-pitched, "Hee- hee"! But you know it's cool. Deep down, you know it. Don't deny the King of Pop.



And Michael was there at every wedding, every party, every time you made a mix tape for someone. So many happy memories shared with our friends and family - there's Michael making you dance like crazy. "A slave to the rhthym," as he put it.


Thirdly, can you guess why my son is named Jackson? Yeah. I like him that much. When Gregory and I were first dating, we thought Jackson Michael would be the coolest name for a baby ever. We've edited it a little since then, but thankfully, I married someone who shares the same adoration for MJ. I seriously doubt I could be with someone who disagreed with me on this. Just like politics, religion, child-rearing... there are some core values that have to be shared!

I just watched the Oprah show yesterday where she showed portions of her original 1993 interview with Michael Jackson. (Yet another moment in time that I remember sitting down with my entire family to watch it.) And, I'm realizing that the other side of it, is that I'm sad that in life MJ was so sad. He had all the things we spend our lives trying to attain: money, recognition, fame (in some respect, we all want it), opportunities to travel, etc. But when those gifts come to you at the age of 6 or 7 - you can't live a normal life. The poor man couldn't have both. While we can pinpoint the happy moments in our lives when we watched a video premiere or felt moved by "Man In The Mirror"; he was at yet another point in his career. Must be weird to be on the other side of that.

But, in death, Michael Jackson has impressed yet another generation. Albums are still best-sellers and I know my own kids will know his music. Hopefully all of the negative media can fade away and we'll be able to just appreciate how unique his status in our lives really was.

If they say, why, why? Tell 'em that is human nature
Why, why does he do me that way?
If they say, why, why? Tell 'em that is human nature
Why, why does he do me that way?
I like livin' this way, I like lovin' this way