It was a clean break. The end of a habit that has, well, existed as long as I have. For the first time in my life, I don't have cable. Consider this more of an experiment than a revolt against conformity and consumerism (although it feels good to be out of the mainstream even a little bit).
My two motivators are money and time; neither of which I have very much of anymore. I had to be honest with myself in regards to time. Many a night I have stayed up late caught up in a marathon of Hoarder, Law &Order SVU or in a desperate attempt to catch up on the 98% full DVR that we've committed ourselves to. It has been several years, actually, that I have not watched much live tv at all. That saved time in itself by avoiding commercials, if you exclude the fact that I could have been saving infinitely more time by not watching tv in the first place. But now I can sit down at the end of the night and not feel some strange obligation to watch one of the thirteen back episodes of Oprah that I never had the chance to watch.
But I'll miss my time with Oprah - much like I miss lounging on the couch and flipping channels for a few hours on a Saturday. That's a luxury that kids have replaced; and I'm fine with that. So now cable is a luxury that honestly, I don't have much time for. And I'm happy to keep a little money in the bank account every month.
We are managing very well with tiny doses of Netflix, DVDs and the Internet. Gregory has the laptop hooked up to the tv and we are good to go! Yeah, we probably won't watch the Oscars or keep up with the local news (but hey! shouldn't I be reading the paper on the internet anyways?), but we'll see how much I miss it.
Like a lot of things that are lacking my daily life (free time, relaxing showers, eating a meal without getting up a million times, a full night's sleep) - I just tell myself... someday. Someday you'll wonder where all of the kids are on a Saturday night. Someday you'll buy quality clothes again without fearing that they'll be ruined by spit up or "washable" finger paint. And someday I'll have cable again, or maybe not.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
(Un)Nesting
As this is my first blog from Buffalo, I thought it appropriate to write about home. Where is home? More importantly, what makes a house suddenly feel like a home? All of us have spent our first night in a house, either as owners or renters, and thought, "Okay, now I live HERE." But months or years pass, and we are so emotionally attached to a building: a place where we may have been married or single, brought babies home from the hospital, made dinner every night, sat with friends in the living room and experienced every possible emotion.
And then we move...
I have spent the last 6 weeks packing, sorting, organizing, purging and cleaning. I went through every closet and every junk drawer and somewhat streamlined my family's existence. Gone are the broken toys and baby clothes that don't fit even Elliot anymore. I've put my closet through a rigorous TLC What Not To Wear test - and still have too many shirts that I never wear. Extra furniture was sold and countless trips were made to the thrift store. And here I am with all of the "stuff" that made the cut - in a house in Buffalo.
Gregory had been living here for about a week before we moved the rest of the family. He painted and unpacked a few boxes. A few nights before moving here, he sent me a picture of some unpacked mugs and glasses set up in the kitchen. I hadn't seen the inside of the house at that point (except for a few pictures) and it was surreal to see my things in a place I couldn't see in my mind's eye. I had just had coffee that morning and wanted to use that exact mug that was already waiting for me in a Buffalo suburb kitchen somewhere.
House/home - there is a big difference between those two words.
Is a home where you know which cabinet your favorite coffee mug resides? At what point in the un-nesting process of taking down pictures and packing away towels does a home look more like a house? Because I was still living in our Pittsburgh home, I couldn't pack the essentials until the last couple of weeks. So I started putting away all of the decorations, books, photos and mementos. It may have been at that point that our home tipped the scales towards becoming just a house. A house that I was struggling to let go of emotionally. The photos of my family were taken off the wall, artwork was carefully wrapped and my home was devoid of personality.
It goes without saying that my home is wherever my family is. And now I can be even more specific - home is wherever my family is together. After five months of separation - we all sleep in the same place! What a novel idea! I'm asking the questions about our comfort items and familiarity. How does a house invite us into making a home? What's important to you?
I'm starting over with a new yard, for example. I don't know what is going to pop up in the springtime. I know in Pittsburgh that our renters are going to enjoy the strawberries I planted 3 years ago or the grapevines we planted the summer after Jackson was born. Home is walking into a room and remembering all of the stories there. But home is also looking forward with the people (and animals) who knew you in that old place too.
And then we move...
I have spent the last 6 weeks packing, sorting, organizing, purging and cleaning. I went through every closet and every junk drawer and somewhat streamlined my family's existence. Gone are the broken toys and baby clothes that don't fit even Elliot anymore. I've put my closet through a rigorous TLC What Not To Wear test - and still have too many shirts that I never wear. Extra furniture was sold and countless trips were made to the thrift store. And here I am with all of the "stuff" that made the cut - in a house in Buffalo.
Gregory had been living here for about a week before we moved the rest of the family. He painted and unpacked a few boxes. A few nights before moving here, he sent me a picture of some unpacked mugs and glasses set up in the kitchen. I hadn't seen the inside of the house at that point (except for a few pictures) and it was surreal to see my things in a place I couldn't see in my mind's eye. I had just had coffee that morning and wanted to use that exact mug that was already waiting for me in a Buffalo suburb kitchen somewhere.
House/home - there is a big difference between those two words.
Is a home where you know which cabinet your favorite coffee mug resides? At what point in the un-nesting process of taking down pictures and packing away towels does a home look more like a house? Because I was still living in our Pittsburgh home, I couldn't pack the essentials until the last couple of weeks. So I started putting away all of the decorations, books, photos and mementos. It may have been at that point that our home tipped the scales towards becoming just a house. A house that I was struggling to let go of emotionally. The photos of my family were taken off the wall, artwork was carefully wrapped and my home was devoid of personality.
It goes without saying that my home is wherever my family is. And now I can be even more specific - home is wherever my family is together. After five months of separation - we all sleep in the same place! What a novel idea! I'm asking the questions about our comfort items and familiarity. How does a house invite us into making a home? What's important to you?
I'm starting over with a new yard, for example. I don't know what is going to pop up in the springtime. I know in Pittsburgh that our renters are going to enjoy the strawberries I planted 3 years ago or the grapevines we planted the summer after Jackson was born. Home is walking into a room and remembering all of the stories there. But home is also looking forward with the people (and animals) who knew you in that old place too.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Good Luck Babies
As the Pittsburgh Steelers approach another Super Bowl, hoping for our seventh win - I thought I would post something to give a little peace of mind to all the Steeler fans out there.
My babies are good luck for Pittsburgh sports.
1. We won the Super Bowl in 2006 when I was pregnant with Ayla.
2. We won the Super Bowl (ahem, again!) in 2009 when Jackson was about nine months old.
3. Then we won the Stanley Cup that same year right after his first birthday.
Pittsburgh fans, have no fear - I have another baby here! Elliot is almost seven months old and now it's his turn to have a winning title within his first year of life. He'll have his Steelers gear on today and might just stay awake for the whole game!!!
My babies are good luck for Pittsburgh sports.
1. We won the Super Bowl in 2006 when I was pregnant with Ayla.
2. We won the Super Bowl (ahem, again!) in 2009 when Jackson was about nine months old.
3. Then we won the Stanley Cup that same year right after his first birthday.
Pittsburgh fans, have no fear - I have another baby here! Elliot is almost seven months old and now it's his turn to have a winning title within his first year of life. He'll have his Steelers gear on today and might just stay awake for the whole game!!!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
"Mom, don't kill the pig!"
Ayla has had a huge awakening about dinner. About where dinner comes from. I think she might be a little conflicted - or we might have a budding vegetarian in the family.
She already knew that fish was a "meat"; that we take it out of the sea and then eat it. Hence, the animal dies in the process. She didn't show a lot of empathy for the fish. But that sentiment changed when we started discussing farm animals.
I've read a lot of books about our food systems, marketing, home farming, etc. and I always get queasy when we start talking about animal meat. I'm not queasy eating it (except when I was pregnant with Elliot), but I know it would be hard for me to face the facts about what it takes to slaughter an animal for dinner. On the one hand, I don't think being carnivores is a bad thing if the animals have a chance to live a humane existence. (Is that kinder though to treat an animal with care right before you cut its' head off?) On the other hand, I would probably become a vegetarian if I had to hunt for my own dinner.
Ask yourself the same question: how many of us even think about the source of our dinners anymore? We have sly euphemisms for our food: we should call it cow and pig. For some reason, the lowly chicken and anything from the ocean can be called by its proper name.
Now Ayla seems to be facing that dilemma - only in more subtle ways. Every meal I've served since our discussion of what beef and pork is, she has eaten but also commented that I shouldn't kill any more animals. I don't know where she gets the idea that I have the time (or inclination) to go killing animals! But from a moralist vegetarian standpoint, my crimes are the same just by consuming meat at all.
Ayla doesn't want us taking any more shrimp from the ocean, and while she loves her deli ham... "Mom, don't kill the pig!". Granted, this was said with her mouth full of ham/pig. I think her hunger is winning the battle over her moral dilemma. Should I dare get into the details of lamb or hot dogs?
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Getting Nebby at the Grocery Store
It seems only appropriate that I ramp up my usage of Pittsburgh slang (Pittsburghese) as a tribute to my city of birth. I love all of the weird words and pronunciations that Pittsburghers are unashamed to use and therefore mispronounce. I'm only hoping that Buffalo has a little bit of that same character. Unless it comes from Canada, eh?
When I get my buggy/cart at Giantiggle/ Giant Eagle, I get nebby/nosy.
This might be one of the top reasons I love grocery shopping. I could spend hours looking at new products and reading labels. However, I also love to see what YOU are buying. No one's buggy is safe. I watch what moms or dads get suckered into buying for their kids. I see how little produce most people have. I shudder at the beef jerkies, frozen pizzas, Captain Crunch, value packs of Mountain Dew, bologna, you name it.
Am I judgemental? A little bit. It's not that I don't eat those foods on occasion. You know I'm hungry when I've put Oreo's and Entenmann's in my own cart. Everyone is entitled to their food choices; but sometimes the link between what's in the cart and how unhealthy the person pushing it looks... well, it can be pretty obvious. The worst is when you can tell that the hyper 8 year old shopping with mom has picked out every item.
LUNCHABLES. Those are disgusting. And I ate them growing up! I also had full calorie Pepsi, Ben & Jerry's ice cream, Blennd (anyone remember that super sweet lemonade mixer?), Klondikes, Tang, Sunny D and countless other nutrient-devoid items. If I passed my parents in the supermarket in 1986, I would have judged them too. :) But we also ate many, many homemade meals with fresh, healthy ingredients. I learned about foods we take for granted (bread, jelly, popsicles) by preparing them at home.
It's all about the balance of good and bad; and it is really lacking. So many people have "Diet" products right next to the Hormel Mac & Cheese and donuts.
I once saw my neighbor in my local Giant Eagle and was so excited to see what she was buying! This particular neighbor lived in the run-down condemned dump that is behind my house. Surely enough, she was buying the grossest stuff for her kids. I think they were having Cheetos and scrapple with gravy on top for dinner that night.
As a disclaimer, I know that we have the freedom to buy whatever foods we want. Sometimes our choices are dictated by finances (I've been there) or lack of initiative on a weekday night (been there too!). But I still like to get nebby. As personal as our food choices are, we have to parade them around the grocery store for an hour before we can get to the privacy of our homes to stuff our faces!
C'mon, admit it- you do it too!
When I get my buggy/cart at Giantiggle/ Giant Eagle, I get nebby/nosy.
This might be one of the top reasons I love grocery shopping. I could spend hours looking at new products and reading labels. However, I also love to see what YOU are buying. No one's buggy is safe. I watch what moms or dads get suckered into buying for their kids. I see how little produce most people have. I shudder at the beef jerkies, frozen pizzas, Captain Crunch, value packs of Mountain Dew, bologna, you name it.
Am I judgemental? A little bit. It's not that I don't eat those foods on occasion. You know I'm hungry when I've put Oreo's and Entenmann's in my own cart. Everyone is entitled to their food choices; but sometimes the link between what's in the cart and how unhealthy the person pushing it looks... well, it can be pretty obvious. The worst is when you can tell that the hyper 8 year old shopping with mom has picked out every item.
LUNCHABLES. Those are disgusting. And I ate them growing up! I also had full calorie Pepsi, Ben & Jerry's ice cream, Blennd (anyone remember that super sweet lemonade mixer?), Klondikes, Tang, Sunny D and countless other nutrient-devoid items. If I passed my parents in the supermarket in 1986, I would have judged them too. :) But we also ate many, many homemade meals with fresh, healthy ingredients. I learned about foods we take for granted (bread, jelly, popsicles) by preparing them at home.
It's all about the balance of good and bad; and it is really lacking. So many people have "Diet" products right next to the Hormel Mac & Cheese and donuts.
I once saw my neighbor in my local Giant Eagle and was so excited to see what she was buying! This particular neighbor lived in the run-down condemned dump that is behind my house. Surely enough, she was buying the grossest stuff for her kids. I think they were having Cheetos and scrapple with gravy on top for dinner that night.
As a disclaimer, I know that we have the freedom to buy whatever foods we want. Sometimes our choices are dictated by finances (I've been there) or lack of initiative on a weekday night (been there too!). But I still like to get nebby. As personal as our food choices are, we have to parade them around the grocery store for an hour before we can get to the privacy of our homes to stuff our faces!
C'mon, admit it- you do it too!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
One less thing to pack
Our move is becoming official, with dates and everything. Gregory found a great rental house in Buffalo which will be "ours" the second week of February. Our big moving day for furniture and truck rental is tentatively set for the week after that. The renter for our Pittsburgh house will move in shortly after we get this place cleaned out.
My nights in this house are numbered! Needless to say, I've been packing like a mo-fo. But with packing comes sorting and cleaning and a huge pile for the thrift store. We've downsized on toys, clothes, cookware, papers, children (ha! that would be terrible), etc. It feels good to pack in an organized way so that we aren't loading and unloading things we don't need anymore.
But the packing just goes on and ON! And at a very slow pace since any progress I make is usually interrupted by a new mess to clean up, meal to feed or diaper to change. Today was a challenging one.
Both Jackson and I needed some time-outs and quiet, resting moments in our rooms to get back to normal. Maybe he feels the anxiety and strangeness of packing up all of our belongings and moving far, far away. But I'll think positively... a broken glass is one less thing to pack. The wet vac cleaned up the marker; I caught it before it dried.
Someday this neverending move will be over.... right?
My nights in this house are numbered! Needless to say, I've been packing like a mo-fo. But with packing comes sorting and cleaning and a huge pile for the thrift store. We've downsized on toys, clothes, cookware, papers, children (ha! that would be terrible), etc. It feels good to pack in an organized way so that we aren't loading and unloading things we don't need anymore.
But the packing just goes on and ON! And at a very slow pace since any progress I make is usually interrupted by a new mess to clean up, meal to feed or diaper to change. Today was a challenging one.
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| Jackson grabbed a martini glass from the counter before I could wrap it... and when I told him, "No."... he threw it on the floor. |
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| While packing a box upstairs, Jackson "decorates" the rug and tv with a woodcraft marker. |
Both Jackson and I needed some time-outs and quiet, resting moments in our rooms to get back to normal. Maybe he feels the anxiety and strangeness of packing up all of our belongings and moving far, far away. But I'll think positively... a broken glass is one less thing to pack. The wet vac cleaned up the marker; I caught it before it dried.
Someday this neverending move will be over.... right?
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
My big little man
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| Teeth are coming soon - lots of drool and chewing. |
At his most recent check-up, he weighed in at 18 pounds. Good boy! He has delicious rolls on chub on his arms and legs, cankles, knuckles and on his tummy of course. When I change his clothes, I can see the little rings around his body from his rolls folding over on themselves. He is measuring mid-range for his weight, but probably in the 90th percentile for his length. And his head, I'm happy to say, is within normal range! That couldn't be said for my other son. :)
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| His first time facing out in the Bjorn. |
I am still almost exclusively breastfeeding with a cup of rice cereal and veggies every once in awhile. He even went on a bottle strike for a few weeks, which is something neither Ayla or Jackson ever did. I have been with Elliot a lot more at this age that I was with his older brother and sister. In both cases, I was back at work at least 30 hours a week when they were three months old and they were very comfortable with drinking out of bottles. Elliot did well for awhile - but then figured out he had a choice and would go on a hunger strike until I came home. I think the strike is over because he's gulped down a couple of bottles from Gregory recently.Thank goodness, because while I love that little man, I love my freedom without worrying I'm leaving a hungry baby behind.
Elliot is happy, giggly and yummy to cuddle with. It's rare to see him in a really bad mood and I'm truly enjoying the "baby stage" with him. I'm appreciating how simple it is to solve the "problems" of a dirty diaper, hunger or sleepiness when comparing it to the behavioral duties and dramas of Ayla and Jackson.
He is sitting up well with help; but has not successfully rolled over yet. Maybe 18 pounds of baby fat is hard to control? Elliot loves his bouncy exersaucer and was giggling hysterically the other night while I helped him stand up on my lap.
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| With his cousin Noella at Christmas - it was both their 1st! |
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| Falling asleep cuddling with Aunt Evie |
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| So happy when he wakes up! |
There's just something about him, he's so damn lovable. He smiles at everyone and not once has either Ayla or Jackson shown any sort of ill-will towards him. They would murder each other over a crayon, but come running to comfort Elliot when he is crying. All of these things will change, I'm sure, but the world around Elliot at six months is a pretty happy place.
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