My "OMG-I-Totally-Missed-That-Moment"

Math in Los Angeles goes something like this:  rain in the Valley = snow in the Mountains.

So, after a few weeks of some substantially wet days, we were talking about taking that day and making it up into the mountains.  And we continued to talk.  And we continued to talk.  By the time we were finishing up the conversation we had spent several days drinking iced drinks in the sun outside and we came to the conclusion that we had to speed things up before the snow was completely gone.

And there we went, on a Sunday in March.  We had borrowed snow gear from friends, I had packed sandwiches, baked cookies and made hot cocoa and off we were.  It was a sunny day and around 65 degrees.  That was around 8am.  Yes, we were practically dressed in T-shirts and shorts on our way up to the snow.  The closer we got to Mt. Pinos, the more doubts I started to have on validity of the website that I had been checking over the days leading up to our daytrip, telling me there was enough snow to be found "up there".  But, as we arrived at the top, we were welcomed by slopes covered in white magic.  Perfect.

We bundled up the kids, we bundled up ourselves and off we went.  Yes, by then it was below freezing with a bright blue sky and strong wind.  Chilly.

It was the boys' first snow experience.  Ryder spent most of the morning managing to pull his gloves off, only for me to put them back on.  If not busy with that, he occupied himself with only 1 other thing: screaming his little head off:

So the kid doesn't like the snow.  Understandable, but not acceptable.  He'll have to get used to that with me as a mom as I do want to start incorporating more snow in our family winters in Los Angeles.  And this day trip was only the beginning of that tradition.  Oh well, there's always next year.

Kai, on the other hand, LOVED it:

After one of our bumpy sled rides down the mountain, Kai announced that the snow was "Cool!" and that he "wanted to move here".  Comment duly noted.

At the end of the day there was hot cocoa, rosy cheeks and great memories.

The drive back was peaceful

and before we knew it, we were back in the backyard, in our shorts and T-shirts.  Our boys were obviously in two different minds on whether snow was cool or not: Kai loving it, Ryder not so much.  Until...

... I downloaded the photos later that evening and all of a sudden realized that it wasn't the snow, or even the face plant into the snow that had been the distress factor for our little Bruiser Bruisee. 

His hand!  It was gone!  Vanished!  Disappeared in a matter of seconds.  Without anyone noticing it.  Gone.  Forever!!! 
In my attempt to keep the darn gloves on his hands, I had put the gloves on first, before putting the jacket on.  When his hand didn't fit through the sleeve opening I decided to leave it in the sleeve.  After all, that was a heck of a lot warmer than having it stick out anyways.  The little dude probably thought his hand had disappeared and was frantically trying to figure out when the heck that had happened and how, from now on, he would have to feed himself without his trusting right hand.  And that, in and by itself is reason for GREAT concern.

Nope.  I hadn't noticed it.  It hadn't occurred to me.  Not for a second.  Thank heavens for photos - not only to serve the purpose of documenting memories, but also for being the voice of a 13-month old, who is yet unable to make his frustrations understood. ("heard"- Yes.  "understood" - not always.)

Happy to Be Mom

Even if I had had the time to sit down and write over the past weeks, not much exciting would have been put on paper.  It would have been limited to stories about colds, snotty noses, coughing spells in the middle of the night, raspy voices, more snotty noses and Vicks.  That pretty much sums up the past few weeks.

Then came the other day at the playground.  It was a sunny afternoon and perfect to spend an hour after naps outside, running, climbing, chasing and sliding.  The playground is part of a recreational area, managed by the city of Los Angeles.  There are picnic tables, baseball fields, basketball courts and around a large field lies a track that is used for strolling, walking, jogging and other workout activities.

As the boys were climbing, going down slides and chasing each other, a little girl caught my attention.  She must have been approximately the same age as Kai.  She had beautiful blond curls that bounced around as she was playing in the sand.  Next to her sat a lady, who certainly wasn't her mother.  I assumed she was the nanny.  All of a sudden the girl got up out of the sand and walked over to the fence.  While holding on to the wire, she pointed and said: "Look Maria!  It's Mommy!"  I looked in the direction she was pointing and as I clocked a blond woman strolling over the track, talking to (what I assume was) her friend, the little girl called out "Hi Mommy!" and waved enthusiastically.  The blond woman didn't hear or see her.  The little girl hesitated for a moment.  Then, she hung her head and with a sad look on her face, returned to the edge of the sand box where she sat and just stared at the sand in front of her.

It is by no means my intention to start the discussion on the pros and cons of nannies, but it reminded me of a conversation I had had with a nanny at that same playground a few months ago.  She told me that she had been the nanny of this little boy for practically his entire life (he was 5 at the time).  His father was a producer, his mom didn't work.  "So," I asked.  "If his mom doesn't work, then why are you practically raising this boy?"  The answer: "because his mom goes for pedicures, wine get-togethers and spa visits with her girlfriends."  I remember at that point, my mouth just dropping open.  I was so dumbfounded that I was unable to get a word out of it.

Seeing the little girl, desperately wanting to connect with her mom and not being able to do so, broke my heart and as I am writing this, my heart goes out to her.  All she wanted, was to connect with her mom.  The person she should be connecting with.  On the playground, at home, in the park, heck, in the grocery store.  Don't get me wrong, a break once in a while from being a mom is nice.  Some pampering, hanging out with friends, I am all for it.  But when I look around at these playgrounds I see so many children with nannies / baby sitters, that I couldn't help but make certain assumptions when I saw the events of that afternoon unfold in front of my eyes.

Seeing the sadness and disappointment in this little girl's eyes, made me realize how happy I am with the life that I live.  Though I still teach part-time, I get to spend amazing quality time with my boys.

I get to go to the playground with them and push them in the swings:




I get to tuck my boys in for the naps and get to see how Kai prefers to fall asleep for naptime:



On those beautiful days that he actually takes the nap, I get to wake him up and walk in on this:



I get to experience this "view from above".  The baby, grabbing on to my legs, with no intention of letting go until hugs, kisses and more hugs have been delivered:



I get to be there when Kai discovers a new hiding place:



And finally, I get to be the one Kai comes to to show off his new footwear:



Honestly, it would bother me if I wasn't there to share those moments.  I LOVE those moments and am so incredibly grateful that those moments are MY memories of my children growing up.

Yes, there are absolutely days that I wish there was someone who was willing to take my little devils off my hands, so I could regain my sanity.  But despite the sleep deprivation, the toddler tantrums, the moments of needing to count to 10 100, I love being a mom and I love taking them to the playground, being the one whose arms they run into for hugs and kisses and to be excitedly told "I LOVE you Mommyyyyy!!"

My Shortest Post So Far

After a full day of having to listen to other people whine (and I am not just referring to my children) I am tired, beat, exhausted and more.  I may later regret it, should I actually speak my mind on today's adventures.  I am going to sit, have a cup of tea, kick back and watch American Idol and just keep my thoughts and opinions to myself.

ETA - My awesome hubby was NOT one of the participants in this "it's Whine-Day" and for that I was very grateful!!  :-)

Pre-MenoWHAT?!?

Earlier today I spoke with a friend of mine who was having one of "those" days.  You know, the one that starts not so great and then only gets worse?  That one.  Our conversation took place around 9am and at that point it was obvious that it was going to be one of those days for her.  Especially since she hadn't had her Java yet.  Ah, the a.m. Java and the p.m. glass of wine.  What would we do without them?  I was happy to be her "venting buddy", but when she went into a bit more detail about the mood swings that had been plaguing her lately, I felt as if I was listening to myself.  Her assumption?  It must be a pre-menopausal thing.  WHAT was that?!?!  WHAT did you say?  Did you just say "pre-menopausal"?  Oh no girlfriend, I am soooo not ready for that yet!!  For one person it may be a pre-menopausal thing, but I think in my case I prefer to call it "being-mother-to-two-lovely-cute-little-boys-who-regularly-test-boundaries-and-enjoy-pushing-buttons" (my buttons, that is).

In the beginning of January I committed myself to a little experiment: for 3 weeks, upon waking in the morning, I would choose how I wanted to be throughout the day.  I had a little bright pink Post-It note taped to my bathroom mirror, so it would remind me.  Every morning, I took a deep breath and decided what I was going to be about and how I wanted to be with the children.  These 3 weeks turned into 3 amazing weeks.  I admit that I wasn't always successful in maintaining the attitude that I had committed to in the morning, but the few times that this happened, it didn't take me much time to realize what was going on and to get back to where I wanted to be.

It was difficult though, especially with a stubborn, trying, testing the boundaries toddler on my hands.  He seems to have a knack for finding my buttons and pushing them.  Heck, sometimes the kid manages to turn me into one huge button in and by itself.  I hate it when that happens.

Luckily David and I manage to rotate those days; the days that I am the big red button that walks around signaling "Push Me!  Push Me!" are the days that he seems like a Buddhist monk: calm, together, nothing can possibly ruffle his feathers.  And then there are days that those roles are reversed (although I hardly ever consider myself as calm as a Buddhist monk).  Yep, it's a perfect marriage.  We compliment each other pretty well.

Over the past weeks I have had my share of being the Big Red Button around the house, today I was the calm, together, Buddhist monk (wannabe) and it came with my "aha" moment: as parents of toddlers we are pummeled with "give them a clear choice", "be consistent", "draw a clear line", "communicate well", "pick your battles", and so on.  I realized that in many occasions (when I have a Big Red Button day), I "react" and the reaction is what fuels the fire.  Choices are great, but not as a reaction to an action.  The choice needs to come first, before the action.  If that is the case, there is no need for a reaction.  Confused?

Here's an example:
It's bath time and Kai doesn't want to go in the bath.  It's time to get in, he runs away and turns it into a "catch me if you can game".  We react and tell him that he could either come, get in the bath, and have his daily pillow fight prior to going to bed, or we will come get him, in which case he'll go kicking and screaming and the pillow fight will not happen.  This is where it goes from bad to worse. 

Or

Bath time arrives and we give him 2 choices: a bath followed by his pillow fight, or straight to bed.  Which one would he prefer?  Whichever one he chooses, we'll just have to make sure that we're okay with it.  If per chance he changes his mind somewhere half way through the process that follows, it'll be a lot easier for us to calmly explain that this was his choice and if he wishes to do it differently the following day, he can.  We're not reacting with an action, we're reacting with an explanation.

It is fascinating to me that those days that I felt like that Big Red Button, were the days that I didn't take the time in the morning to decide how I was going to be throughout that day.  I let my toddler who came running in and started using my bed as a trampoline, yelling "Mama, wake up!  Make Breakfast!  Mamaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!", waking the baby in the room next door have an effect on my mood that day.  (It may be hard to believe, but a scenario like that, does make it somewhat more challenging to wake up in a calm, relaxed, and zen-like mood.) 

At this point, I can happily say that I have put the thought of pre-menopausal challenges to rest.  Those challenges will have to wait until a later point in my life.  For now, I am simply a mother to two little boys (who I love and adore to pieces) and who are discovering the world around them.

And ... He's Off!

Having 2 children whose birthdays are within a week of each other is great, but this year it has put me on the Xtreme Roller Coaster Ride of Emotions.  Not only did my baby turn 1 last week, but 4 days later, my other "baby" turned 3 and then today...he left me.

With his backpack in one hand and with his "computer" (Scribble & Write) in his other, he marched out the door at 8am, ready to start a new chapter in his life: Preschool. 
I think know he was more ready than I was;  for the past several weeks, he has been reciting the alphabet forward and backwards, teaching it to his 1-year old brother, spelling out every word he sees, counting everything he can count, and finding the greatest joy in going through the alphabet by naming a word for every letter.  "A is for Apple, B is for Boy, Ball and Bee, C is for Carrot" etc., etc.  Mind you that the "K is for Kai", the "M is for Mommy", the "O is for Opa and Oma", the "P is for Papa" and the "R is for Baby Ryder".  Just so we all know.

For several days I had been telling him that he was going to go to the "big boy school", that he was going to make new friends and that Ms. Jill was going to be his teacher.  Forward to this morning.  My alarm clock went off at 7am.  My plan was to leave at 8, so he could be there plenty early to play before class started at 9am.  The school provides breakfast and lunch, so fruit was going to suffice this morning before our departure.  After wakening this morning, I asked him: "Do you know what's going to happen today?"  His response: "I'm going to see Ms. Jill!"  I guess Ms. Jill had made an impression on him, despite being brunette (he tends to prefer blonds). 

So, my cheeky monkey was off to school. On one hand being delighted to (only) have to focus on 1 child this morning, it (obviously) was bittersweet for me.  Kai is growing up; this would be the first day of the rest of his educational career.  From now on, he will either be in school, in college or at work (or so we hope).  Never will I have him home full time anymore (except for summer break).  That chapter is behind me, at least for him.  Honestly, it makes me sooooo happy that I have another one at home!  But it also makes me want to REALLY enjoy and get EVERYTHING out of the time that I now have left with Ryder, while Kai is in school.  I now, more than ever,  realize how fast (as in: incredibly fast) time goes and it makes me sad.  I wish that sometimes I could bottle moments, or make time stand still.

Having said that, I am incredibly proud of my toddler boy.  He's an absolutely awesome dude (though I wasn't so sure about that last night during his Tantrum of the Century) and I was proud and excited to drop him off at school.  He is more than ready and at the end of the day that is what's most important.  If it were up to me, I would hold on to him forever, but that just wouldn't be fair.  What's best for him is what's most important, not what's best for me.  And school is absolutely the best thing for Kai right now.  So there he went.

In the car, he was mostly occupied with his new "computer" - by far the best investment of this year's birthday gifts.

He loves the thing and takes it everywhere, to the point where I have to convince him that the bathroom really isn't the best place to take a piece of electronic equipment. 
Anyways, off to school we went.  It took him about 5 minutes to get used to the place.  We found his cubby where we put his backpack, he put on his smock, and when Ms. Jill suggested he traded Mama's hand for hers, he was officially "at home" at his new school.  Outside play awaited.  Fun! 

Mama left, empty handed and with a heavy heart, harboring so many mixed emotions.  Initially, I was planning on spending it playing with Ryder, but the fridge had cried out desperately, requesting to be filled for the sake of the children, so we spent it grocery shopping instead. When the fridge was filled, Ryder and I returned to the school to pick up Kai.  Upon arrival, we found him digging into Taquitos and consuming his 3rd glass of milk.  I don't think he was grooving too much on the rice and beans, but several taquitos and a 4th glass of milk later, we left.  My question "What did you do at school today?" was answered with "I had waffles for breakfast and taquitos and milk for lunch" told me everything I needed to know.  He was fine.  He did tell me had had fun and when I put him down for his nap he said goodbye, talking about the next school day.  I am beyond thrilled.  Still a bit sad, but beyond thrilled.  Today was the beginning of a good thing.

The rest of the day was spent laughing, giggling, having fun and giving hugs 'n kisses.  My idea of a perfect day.

Here's to preschool and to my big toddler boy.

It Was a Sunday Afternoon in January

... and it was sunny in Los Angeles.  Opa & Oma had come over from Europe.  I don't know what possessed me, but that morning I had gone out to Barnes and Noble to get a book:  "I [heart] Trader Joe's Cookbook".  That's right, a cookbook.  That afternoon, I was lounging outside.  I was tired, my feet hurt and I was crampy, so I decided to kick back and read... my cookbook.  Yes, that's the kind of person I am.  I finished reading the book in less than an hour, at which point I had to restrain myself from rolling off the chaise lounge and waddling over to the car to go get the ingredients for one of the recipes that jumped out to me. 

As the sun started to set, it cooled down pretty quickly and David and I decided to continue the lounging inside, while watching The International with Clive Owen.  Little did we know that we would never see the end of the movie...

That Sunday afternoon was January 31, 2010 and this was me:

An hour into the movie I got up to make some tea and grab a snack.  That's when my water broke and we were off to the hospital.  It looked like it would be a long wait before meeting our 2nd little boy, so, we continued the snacking.  Afterall, this was one of the last times that I could use "being pregnant" as an excuse for my cravings.

Maybe it was the milkshake, maybe it was the chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes I had for dinner, but my little boy seemed to be of a different opinion than the doctors: not long after dinner he presented me with the opportunity to work off the calories that I had just happily consumed.  That night, on February 1, 2010 (02/01/2010) Ryder Willem was born and made us a family of 4.  He weighed 10 lbs. 11.3 oz. and measured 21.5".  (Yes, he was a big baby and no, I did not have a C-section.)

And here we are: on January 31, 2011.  A year later.  It was a year with lots of interrupted sleep, a year in which I was "graced" with many more gray hairs, a year of milestones, of teeth, of crawling, of walking, of eating table food, but most importantly, it was a year of lots of giggles, joy, happiness and a heart that doubled (once again) in size.  Once again, I fell in love.  This time it was with a blond, blue eyed bruiser.  (It's cool, knowing that I can make both dark hair, brown eyed and blond hair, blue eyed children.)

We went from a sleepy, gassy, and yes, cranky 1-month old

to a happy, giggling, laid back 6-month old

to a mischievous, happy and flirty 1-year old.

And here we are, the day before his 1st birthday.  So much has happened and honestly, I am having a hard time believing that it's already been a year.  I miss the days that he would fall asleep in my arms, but I treasure the smiles, giggles and sheer delight he expresses when I hold my arms out and tell him to come to me from the other end of the hallway.  The excitement and joy in his eyes when he masters something new is absolutely beautiful and though I sometimes wish he still were a little baby, I am truly happy with the gorgeous and precious boy he's turning into.

On his 1st birthday, Ryder:

• Weighs approx. 28 lbs.
• Is 32 5/8"  (2ft. 8 5/8") tall 
• Wears 24 Months clothes (although he fills out Kai's 3T shirts very nicely, see pic. above).
• Sleeps from 8pm to 7am
• Naps from 1-4pm
• Has 6 teeth
• Loves milk, yogurt and cheese
• Loves walking and being outside
• Is obsessed with anything that Kai is plays with.

Today, on January 31, I yet have to watch the end of The International.  However, it once again is a sunny afternoon in Los Angeles.  Opa and Oma are visiting again, but instead of reading a cook book, I actually baked.  Apple sauce cupcakes are cooling on the kitchen counter, the house smells wonderfully, and I am preparing for a small family celebration tomorrow.

Happy 1st Birthday, my Baby Boy!  I love you more than you will ever know.  Thank you for joining us, you truly are a blessing.

The Science of Eating a Cupcake

According to Kai:

1. Be very specific about the cupcake you want.  Preferably choose that one pastry with the most chemically enhanced colors (the more fluorescent, the better).  Announce your choice not only to your parents, but also to your Opa & Oma, who are patiently waiting their turn.  Heck, while you're at it, just announce your choice to everyone in the store; it betters your chances of getting the desired item of yummyness source of sugar overload.
   
   
   
   
   
2. As you prepare to devour this heavenly creation, delivered to you by the Gods of Goodness, just FOCUS.  Focus on nothing more than the sensation and the amazing chemical reaction happening in your mouth as you take that first bite.  it's pretty darn sensational, you know.
   
   
   
   
   
3. Once the first bite has been ingested and the sugar rush has been set into action, you continue with the best part: the frosting.  Those precious, fluorescent colors.  The part your parents dread the most.  (For oh-so-many reasons.)  Turning the cupcake constantly, you work your way through the frosting as if it were an ice cream cone you were deconstructing.  (Although, that would probably be an excellent combination with a cupcake...  Can you imagine: a cupcake and an ice cream cone at the same time.  Oh, how awesome would that be?)  Focus.  Do not get distracted.  It's the cupcake you're working on here.  It's a lot of work, but as with most things: persistence & tenacity are key.  (Mom calls the "tenacity" "stubbornness".  Really, what's the difference?)
   
   
   
   
   
4. Well, and then the moment has arrived that the frosting is gone.  All gone.  Now what?  Oh well, just dive in!
   
   
   

And that, people, is the science of eating a cupcake.  According to Kai.