so much for a comeback

Normally I don't lie. I don't really even like fibs. But I did lie. In a recent post about feeling stretched, I wrote...and I quote...

"Bear with me as I get myself back to normal and back to blogging."

Um...yeah, whatever.

Clearly, life is not back to "normal" (whatever that means) and I'm not back to blogging the way I want to be.

I feel terrible that I haven't popped in on all my friends and left fun comments in a long time - I miss you all and I miss our communication.

So, for now, I'll give what I can give. I have some exciting ventures on the horizon which I will share with you in further detail in the near future. However, I will tell you that the MOPS group I'm starting here in town is kicking into full swing (this is what would be eating away my free time) - and I'm really excited about it!

I am also seeing another passion of mine develop...cake decorating. You remember I did this for the redhead's 2nd birthday in October? (I even impressed myself!)


Well......I'm making another cake next month for my sister's baby shower. I've got the idea and with the help of my wondermous sister-in-law (who is the cake lady extraordinaire), I purchased some necessary supplies. She encouraged me to test my skills a bit further, so for this cake I will be entering the world of..............fondant. Oh yes, this should be good! Stay tuned for photos (coming the first week of March).

So, that's what's up with me in a nutshell. Hopefully I shall return in a fortnight to keep you abreast of the happenings!


Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day!

do you mind if i ask what you were smoking at the time?

Dear Jessica Alba,

While I don't consider myself big fan of yours, I've seen some of your work and I'll give you your props. I mean, acting isn't just a walk in the park I hear. And being in the media spotlight can't be all that fun either, what with cameras stuck in your face, rumors being spread about you, and kamikaze paparazzi stalking your every move.

You may not think you have a lot in common with me, but actually you do. For starters, we're both married and we both have cash - only yours is in the form of your real husband and millions in your bank account, and mine, well, let's just say I'm hard up to scrape together 4 quarters for the Sunday paper.

We are also both mothers and have both birthed children without surgical intervention. I know that each woman has her own birthing story special to her - some go without drugs, other choose them, some don't push for long, some push for hours, etc. However, most women do get to experience contractions, whether pitocin induced (like mine) or natural and this is wherein my issue with you lies.

I have already outed myself as a celebrity gossip devotee so that's neither here nor there. As I was reading People.com this morning, I saw a statement that intrigued me...

"What wasn't so tough for the Fantastic Four star? Surprisingly, childbirth itself." "Contractions aren't that bad," she (Alba) says. "If you've ever had bad cramps? That's what they're like. But that moment when they put the baby on your chest – that's deep. It's a deep experience."


Dear heart, I have had some bad cramps. Some really bad cramps. The "curl up in a ball I have taken seven million alleve and they didn't work so shoot me right now" kind of cramps. Lemme tell ya', they in no way touched childbirth contractions - and mine were pitocin induced with no drugs. My back was wracked with a mind-numbing pain and with each contraction I couldn't move. I felt nauseous, I got chills, I wanted to quit and I have an extremely high pain tolerance. I am no quitter.


Bad cramps my a**!


But you, you had to have been on something to say that contractions weren't that bad. Yep. That's the conclusion I'm coming to. But in the end, we both had the same result. We both had healthy babies and got to experience that deep moment where we looked into our babies eyes and knew that we were made for motherhood.



Best wishes with little Honor Marie. I'm sure you're a wonderful mother.


Sincerely,
Caroline

self-diagnosis

The redhead knows two languages. He's brilliant, what can I say?

I wish I could take credit for his academic prowess - we've spent hours reading books and discussing colors, numbers, and thoughts.

However, these two languages seem to be most commonly spoken amongst "his peeps".

The two languages I am referring to are English (in Big Boy Voice) and Whiny English.

The latter is what this post will focus on.

It seems this is his language of preference as of late. Even when I tell him to use his other language, he opts for Whiny English. He knows my disgust for all things whiny.

Unfortunately, he gets this language honest. In a way, he did learn it from me. I think it was imprinted on his genetic code upon conception just to get me back for speaking Whiny English to my mom when I was younger.

No matter where it came from, it must be nipped in the bud. I have no patience for such nonsense.

When Whiny English is spoken here, we tell the redhead to stop being a "whinypants" and to use his big boy voice.

The other night, redhead was taking a bath and assumed the normal position of laying on his tummy in the water. I had given him fair warning of the impending ceremonial draining of the water and expected him to comply. Notsomuch. He began whining and I began ignoring him and looking away. Several moments later, as he was still whining, I glanced at him and the only word that came out of his mouth was...............................

"whinypants".

I couldn't stifle my laughter.

If only we could use this amazing gift of self-diagnosis at more critical times. For instance, he could tell me, "mommy, pneumonia", or perhaps, "mommy, need antibiotics". Heck, we could quite possibly bypass the doctor's office altogether...and maybe save some money doing so.

At least he's got a good sense of humor.

feeling stretched

Remember him?

Yeah. This is what I've felt like life has been doing to me lately. Bear with me as I get myself back to normal and back to blogging.

Oh, and if you have any brilliant ideas of things I could write about, please let me know.

a snowy kind of day

Every year, central NC waits on pins and needles to see if the forecasters predictions of snow will actually prove true. More times than not we wake up to the see the same brown grass of winter. But not this time. This time, Van Denton got it right and we received about 2-3 inches of the white stuff. I won't even go into how dysfunctional NC gets about snow. With the sighting of the first flake (this may only be a slight exaggeration - but its mostly true), business close their doors, school buses cease to run, and the whole city (with the exception of the necessary emergency personnel and Wal-Mart) closes down. It's downright humorous.

Truthfully, we just don't have the equipment to handle large amounts of snow (and yes, 2 inches does seem to qualify as a large amount of snow). I can hear you laughing Tracey P. Go ahead and get a good chuckly on our account!

No matter how much snow we get, you can be sure to find us out in it. This wasn't the first snowfall we've had since the redhead was born, but this is the first he might remember. After his nap and a trip to the potty, we bundled up and headed outside to play. By this time the snow had stopped falling and it was the warmest part of the day - even if it was a cool 27 degrees outside.

As we were frolicking in the farthest nether-regions of the yard, I hear the dreaded words...

"Mommy. Pee-pee."

At this point, I think I said a cuss word in my head, and rushed him to the house. Fortunately, the redhead didn't have to pee, but in our world, "pee" also means poop, and he had pooped a little in his pants. Ofortheloveofallthatisholyandgood!!!! This was the 6th - yes - 6th time that day he had done a shadoobie in his drawers! I know, who in the free world goes 6 times in one day? Needless to say, we stayed inside. There was no way I was going to put all those clothes back on him and go tromping around outside only to have another accident happen.

But the snow was fun and he had a good time - and that's probably what I'll remember moreso than the shadoobie that took us away from the beautiful snow.

a penny for my thoughts...cause that's probably all you'd pay

Its been a full week since we began our potty training adventure and I'm exhausted. Its not like newborn baby exhaustion though - I still remember that all too well, but nonetheless, I'm bushed! We have had our ups and down, poops and pees, good times and bad, but he's potty-trained. The last diaper worn was the one I removed last Monday morning. My brain can't function enough to calculate the savings thus far on not having to buy diapers, but I'm sure it is a lot!

This process has probably been one of my biggest challenges as a parent so far. It might have been the method that we used (http://3daypottytraining.com) - it was very intensive in that I had to be by his side and watch him like a hawk for the whole 3 days (something I'm not used to and worried how it would happen cause I LOVE my space!)

However, despite the constant physical proximity to an underwear-wielding toddler, I learned quite a bit about both of us.

* The redhead is very smart - this I already knew, just got to see again firsthand. He picked up on telling me he had to go potty by the end of the first day.

* He has a wonderful spirit and a great sense of humor - this I already knew too, but got to appreciate again as we spent much time in the bathroom (check out his angel face as we wait out another pee).



* Only God can give us patience and He showered it on me this past week in an incredible way. I was able to be supportive and encouraging in the middle of the night while changing wet bedsheets and a urine-soaked toddler.

* I truly enjoyed not blogging, but instead spent precious time playing with my son and seeing his imagination and creativity.

* I also saw the importance of both parents in this process. I had two appointments I had to keep last Monday and Tuesday and it worked out that Mr. Baseball could be home with the redhead. He picked up right where I left off and did a great job while I was gone.

* I learned that M & M's are a great reward for potty-training. They're also a great reward for tired mommies!

* It feels GREAT to have a potty-trained child. Each day gets better as he continues to "get" it. Our night have been good too - he just woke up dry for the 4th morning in a row. Of course we still have had to get up in the middle of the night with him when he needs to pee.



Redhead, your daddy and I are so proud of the big boy you've become and we're soooooooo proud of you for using the potty! We love you!

the scoop on the poop

Well, we've made it to day three sans diapers! Here's a small recap of each day:

Day One - definitely the toughest so far!

* All 19 pairs of underwear/boxer briefs were wet within the first 4 hours.
* Cleaned up lots of pee-spots on the carpet and couch
* Stayed dry through naptime (1.5 hours) - this was big!
* Finally started to "get" that he had to tell me when he needed to potty - usually it was when he couldn't hold it any longer.
* Had a crying fit prior to a HUGE pee; received a matchbox car for being so brave
* I got so frustrated at one point in the day I slammed my hand down in karate kid fashion on the floor whilst whispering the F-word. No permanent damage sustained. This moment was not witnessed by the redhead.
* Two accidents over the course of the night, a small disruption in sleep
* No poops

Day Two - much better than day one

* Only went through about 6 pairs of underwear
* Got pretty good at telling us when he needed to potty
* Still got a little scared when he felt the real "urge to go" - lots of encouragement and praise will be needed for a while on this issue
* Kept underwear dry for longer intervals
* Stayed dry for another 1.5 hour long nap
* We got poops! - his reward was a meal from Chick-Fil-A!
* Only had one accident overnight (we did wake him up to take him potty)!!

Day Three

* so far so good - no accidents
* one Big pee with another one expected any moment.

Thanks for all the positive encouragement. Even though it is a 3-day program, his training is far from over. It is still going to take a lot of diligence on my part to keep him in line. I'll post another update soon.

** Since I've been chasing the redhead around all day and rushing him to the pot, I haven't had the chance to take any pictures of his cute tushie in underwear, but maybe I can get one soon. It is adorable!

it's go time...literally speaking

Today is a momentous day in our household.

Today my baby boy will set out on his quest to become a big boy and it will all begin by exchanging these...

with these...

That's right friends, today begins our 3-day potty training adventure. I'm excited and the redhead is too. I've been telling him all week that babies wear diapers and big boys wear underwear and pee-pee and poo-poo on the potty. I've read up on what I need to do and I'm ready to do it. Underwear a plenty has been purchased (19 pairs in all), rewards and treats are at the ready (stickers and M & M's along with Matchbox cars for those really proud moments), and I've got the potty chart all set to go to track his success.

By the time you read this, he'll already have his big boy pants on and there will not be a diaper/pull-up to be found in our abode.

Accidents...oh I know they will happen - and often over the next couple days.

Frustration...it will come, but I can't let it show - this is all about positive reinforcement.

One thing I am absolutely sure of is that failure is NOT AN OPTION. I refuse to look back. He's ready and I'm ready, so off we go!

I'll only be able to check back in and give updates/pictures while he's sleeping since I have to watch him like a hawk the rest of the time. Hopefully, I'll be able to share the whole rundown on Thursday at some point.

BTW, if you're curious about what method I'm doing, here's the website...

http://www.3daypottytraining.com

I covet your prayers and encouragement, especially from those of your who have been in my shoes. And Nan, we'll probably be talking at some point over the next three days. Be prepared!

polishing a piece of the past

Next Wednesday will mark one year that my precious grandmother has been in heaven. Even though she is sorely missed, I am thankful to know that she is no longer living with Alzheimer's Disease, not knowing the faces of those who were closest to her. Now all she sees is the face of Jesus and those she loved who preceeded her entry into heaven.

Over Christmas, my dad and mom, along with redhead and I, spent one night (it would have been two if it hadn't been for the dreaded stomach bug...again) at my grandparents home. The house holds many memories for me - staging childhood plays with my cousins, playing piano for a captive audience of aunts and uncles, my first viewing of "Pinwheel" on Nickelodeon (we didn't have cable when I was younger), the list could go on and on.

Once vibrant and full of life, the house now stands dark and lifeless. The two that made the house their home have passed on from this life into the next and now it simply holds their precious belongings, most of which are slowly being divided amongst their four children and 11 grandchildren.

I have been fortunate enough to receive several items of great sentimental value from my grandparent's home. My collection includes three paintings that hung in various rooms of the house, a salad plate from their everyday china that we always ate off of, a crystal serving platter and vase, and some necklaces from my grandmother's collection. All of these items hold tremendous meaning, but three items in particular are the most special - a Revere Ware stock pot and two frying pans.


I realize it probably seems a little odd for me to cherish pots and pans as sentimental items, but allow me to explain. These pots and pans are by my best guess at least 30 years old, but probably older than that. They are the only ones I ever remember my grandparents using.

I can still picture my grandfather in his bathrobe and slippers, hair unkempt from a good night's sleep, standing at the stove scrambling eggs and frying bacon in the frying pans. He always made cooking a big breakfast a priority when we came to visit and by-gosh even if you weren't hungry for a big breakfast, you were going to sit down at the table and eat something.

After breakfast was over, someone - either my grandfather or grandmother would get right back in the kitchen and scrub those pans for their next usage.

To say the pans have been well-worn is putting it mildly.

This past weekend my mother-in-law and I were in her kitchen when I noticed that the pots and pans she was using looked similar to the ones I had just inherited, with the exception being that the bottoms of her pans boasted a shiny copper color. I asked her about it and she said that her mother was meticulous about shining her cookware. And I have to say, for about 50 years old, these pans looked almost brand new. I asked about products to bring back the shine on my pans and she shared with me her secret weapon, which I immediately tried to find when I arrived home. I wasn't able to find exactly what she had, but what I did find did the trick (even if it did feel like it was singeing the top layer of my corneas).

Here is what the bottom of the large frying pan looked like before:

and here it is in a side-by-side comparison with the polished stock pot:



Here is what about 30 minutes of scrubbing and several rounds of cleaner can do (please excuse the terrible lighting):




It was a major difference.

I feel as if I have revived a piece of my past and in a strange way, honored my grandparents by loving something that was theirs, no matter how simple or mundane. To someone else, these pots and pans might be mere cooking tools, but to me they represent the passing from one era into another - the making of something old into something new again.

new year's mish mash

Happy New Year! - at least to the two people who read this blog. I kind of feel obligated to write something today 1) because its New Year's, and 2) because I've been gone quite a while.

But I have no idea what to write.

I could write about all the things I learned in 2008, but it's too early to think that deeply - and besides, its a holiday.

I could write about all the things I hope 2009 will bring, but Obama's already told us.

I will say though, I am quite enjoying being able to fill up the Jeep for only $30.00. Glorious.


We were visited with another round of the stomach bug while traveling over Christmas. Thankfully, nothing exited unexpectedly from my body or the redhead's, but I still felt a bit crummy.

And thanks to my parents and other family playing with the redhead 24/7 over the week we were gone, his expectations of me have become somewhat skewed. He needs a sibling...

We are traveling again this weekend to do Christmas with Mr. Baseball's family, so I'll be back in full force on Monday. Next week (or the following week) will bring some new challenges as we enter the realm known as........................................................................................Potty training (cue music - duh duh duh...).

I think he's ready - at least I've got two things going for me. He doesn't like his diaper changed, and he HATES for his clothes to be wet. We'll see...

I'm off to play with my tot, but Happy New Year to you all! What's going to be new in your '09?

hoochee book club review - the letters

This is a true statement (as written in my profile):

"Unfortunately I didn't inherit the "Loves to Read" gene from my family. Unless it's really good (which is anything by Francine Rivers) then I usually don't read it."

Until now.

I have branched out and decided to join my friend Ainsley's on-line book club.

Our first assignment was to read The Letters by Luanne Rice and Joseph Monninger.

Here is the description of The Letters as found inside the book jacket:

Sam and Hadley West are both trying in their own ways to survive after the unthinkable loss of their only son in Alaska. For Sam, a sports journalist, acceptance means an arduous trek by dogsled across the bleak and beautiful arctic wilderness to find the place where Paul died. For Hadley, it means renting a benignly haunted, salt-soaked cottage off the Maine coast, where she bgins to paint again.

Now at opposite ends of the country, waiting for their divorce to be finalized, they begin to exchange letters by post, missives filled with longing and truths they've never before voiced, as they recall their marriage - its magic moments and its challenges - and begin to redoscover the reasons they fell in love in the first place.

As Sam risks his life to reach the remote crash site, Hadley begins an equally hazardous inner journey to a rendezvous with the mad grief of a mother's heart. At the place where all else is lost, they will meet again...


My Review...

For me, having just come off the euphoria of "The Twilight Saga", The Letters was hard to stomach. It moved along rather slowly and I personally found it a little boring. The story line - a couple struggling to communicate following the death of their child-was very true to life and I appreciated how Sam and Hadley were able to express their deeper feelings and hurts through their writing. At first it seemed as if Sam were much more interested in reconciling their marriage than Hadley, but as the book progressed and I read more of their letters, I could understand that she too was looking for reconciliation - a lot of which came through their writing.

Luanne Rice made a good choice in having Joseph Monninger write from Sam's perspective. I thought it was interesting how differently Sam and Hadley processed their grief. He pursued closure in a very tangible way by going to the crash site, while she expressed a lot of her feelings verbally through her letters to Sam (in addition to her painting).

I found myself wanting more substance, more drama out of The Letters. I also caught myself wanting there to be more characters to follow as Sam and Hadley seemed a bit melodramatic at times.

The ending proved to a be the only curveball thrown in this very predictable read. That's all I'll say in order not to spoil it for anyone who hasn't read this book.

The Letters was an easy read (even when I did have to force myself to keep reading) and a good choice for the first book of the Hoochee Book Club. I can definitely say though that I am very glad I didn't fork out the $22 Books-A-Million was asking for it.

Even though this wasn't my favorite book, I am looking forward to growing as a reader and can't wait to see what Ainsley comes up with next!

christmas hoedown

We've been practicing for weeks to get this right. Merry Christmas Ya'll!

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

dear santa,

You are totally real. I still believe in you, even though I am 31 and now have a child of my own.

And I was ROBBED, I tell you - years of innocence, awe and wonder, violently flushed down the toilet I was delicately perched upon.

Its all her fault, Santa - the all-knowing older sister who executed her most sinister undercover operation to date. Her powers of deduction were unparallelled - how mom and dad used the same wrapping paper you did, and how you and dad had the same handwriting.

The evidence mounted and she felt compelled to report her findings to me, an unassuming five year old. Not only that, but she could not wait for me to exit the bathroom before she spewed forth the "truth" of your non-existence.

I will tell you Santa, I was more than shattered.

I mean, what kind of a world is a world with no Santa? And I ask you, who finds out there "is no Santa" whilst seated upon the porcelain throne?

If you ceased to exist, that would render null and void all of my most favorite Christmas programs...

* Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
* Frosty the Snowman
* Christmas Vacation
* Christmas Eve on Sesame Street
* The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

...and I'm just not having that, no siree.

Despite what some grown-ups might say, I know you are real. And I know Mrs. Santa is real - I spoke with her on the phone one Christmas Eve many years ago.

I realize there's not much time left before Christmas and you're bound to be busy, so I'll get right to the point. Here's my wish-list for this year:

* Addison Road CD
* Running Shoes
* Wii
* New Baby (I realize you aren't really the one who should help me out with this, so can you pass on a good word to the stork for me? Thanks!)
* Bras/underwear (it is WELL past time for some new unmentionables)
* clothes (I won't disclose what size because you already know that)
* Pocket-Sized Bible
* Newsies DVD - so I can watch Christian Bale dance around and sing his cute little heart out. He was at least 18 when that was filmed right?)
* Tae-Bo DVD's or new Firm workout program


Thanks Santa. I know you focus on getting presents to children for Christmas, but I'd really appreciate it if you could make a special stop for me. I'll leave you a little money with the cookies, milk, and carrots to offset your traveling expenses. With the current price of sleigh travel, no doubt you could use it.

See you next week!

Caroline

P.S. Please bring a Milkbone with you so Lijah doesn't bark and wake the redhead up when you arrive.

an early and unexpected christmas gift that needs to be returned to the place from whence it came...and my prophetic gifting

We had a full weekend.

Friday night, the redhead and I ventured over to the retirement center our church founded for crafts and caroling with the residents. Later that night, as I was putting a sleepy redhead to bed, I started thinking about how thankful I was that he hadn't been sick - as in the stomach virus that's going around everywhere right now...

Saturday night I was singing in our church's Christmas cantata.

Sunday was of course more church, to be followed by an afternoon with my parents, sister, and brother-in-law - all coming to Sunday evening's Christmas cantata, which I was again singing in.

For lunch we fed the redhead one of the greatest comfort foods of all time - mac and cheese, along with some fruit to throw in something healthy and nestled him snug in his bed a few minutes after his meal.

He only slept MAYBE 30 minutes as opposed to his usual 2 hour nap. I was a little annoyed, but figured he was excited about seeing "Nona" and "Papa".

I ran out to do a little errand and came home to find Mr. Baseball with the redhead in the rocking chair. MB said the redhead had been crying, so he was just spending some quiet time with the boy. JUST as I was about to leave the room, the redhead started in on his schpiel of "ahh done" (all done). This proclamation was followed by not a trickle or a flow, but rather a CASCADE of vomit. I was so horrified I didn't know what to do. Mr. Baseball took the brunt of it, followed by the redhead's clothes, his books, rocking chair, and floor. I ran to get towels, grabbed the redhead (who was now sobbing hysterically), and took him to the bathroom. We got everything cleaned up and my redhead, bless his sweet little heart, kept repeating, "mess, mess, mess, mess...". Poor little dear was more worried about the mess than the fact that he had recieved some terrible stomach virus. We assured him that the mess could be cleaned up and I went to sit with him on the sofa to watch Noggin. A few minutes later, I called my parents (who were about an hour away at this point) to tell them that there was vomiting. The redhead was sitting with Mr. Baseball watching tv when all of a sudden...another round...and another change of clothes for Mr. Baseball and son.

My sister and her husband arrive to find a puny redhead snuggled up in my lap. At this point, I had managed (somehow) to avoid becoming the target. I needed to get some laundry in, so I said, "Mr. Baseball, will you take the redhead while I get some laundry started - and so he can throw up on you again?"

Redhead went to sit with daddy and a few minutes later...prophecy fulfilled.

Mr. Baseball changed clothes a grand total of 4 times yesterday - the redhead was changed 3 times and threw up a total of 6 times. He slept 12 hours last night without waking up and asked for juice this morning. I'm still a little on edge and trying not to eat too much just in case this Christmas "gift" decides to visit my innards. I, however, do not want this "gift" and will promptly return it. The only problem is...I don't know where it came from.

Fortunately for us, Wal-Mart will take anything back.

"Dr." Caroline will not be with us today as we don't want to give her this priceless "gift", but I could sure use her medical expertise as demonstrated here - I think she was "removing" the redhead's tonsils.

silent night

October 3rd, 2008 - the day the redhead turned two. Also the day that the floodgates of his vocabulary opened. Mr. Baseball and I welcomed this flurry of new words with excitement. We "oohed" and "aahed" at his sweet little voice saying things like..."Mama, hug", "myrrh joof peas" (more juice please), and "tay too" (thank you). But nothing could have prepared me for how my heart would melt when he finally said, "I wuv you". I was butter in his sticky little palms. Pure butta.

Even with all the preciousness, there does happen to be a downside. That would be that he REPEATS EVERYTHING...about a million times...even when I acknowledge what he is saying. I try to respond to him quickly, and take care of his need or continue the conversation - and that usually works.

Last night, after we read the plethora of bedtime books and were rocking, the redhead spotted a block on the floor behind the rocker and stated his findings to me. "Mama, block!...block...block...

Something in me just snapped.

I don't know if it was the fruity pebbles I had for dinner talking back or just the demented curiosity of a mother pushed to the edge of the cliffs of insanity but...

I said nothing.

Instead, I decided to count how many times he would repeat "block" if I stayed silent.





Yeah, um...NINETEEN times.




Then he started again..."block".




Nineteen more times.




That's thirty-eight times the word "block" was proclaimed into my right ear within a two-minute time frame.


I think Guinness needs to be notified. Either that or I should call the doctor to make sure there isn't some lasting brain damage from all the head trauma he's suffered at my hands (that's for you Lula).

No matter.


I just know at 7:30 every night, its gonna be a silent night and all will be calm.