The night the Grandad Train came to our home

Twenty years ago, Michael (my dad, not my husband.. but now that I write that, I guess there is some Freudian thing going on) came into my life when he started dating my mom. I began calling him dad soon after and haven't stopped. They married when I was eleven. In the ceremony he also exchanged rings with my sister and me, us taking him as our dad. My brother did the same with a ring from my mom, ceremonially making us siblings. This day solidified our family. When I was thirteen, I changed my last name to his. My dad has always been the rock to our family. I have always been thankful for everything he has done for me (even though it took me years to show it). However, what happened last night is much more than I will ever be able to thank him for.

When Vedder was born, my dad said he wanted to be called "Grandad." We laughed and try to tell him not to give his hopes up. Vedder began to call him "DingDong." We laughed harder. Then not long ago Vedder started saying Grandad and hasn't stopped since. He talks about Grandad and the "Grandad Train" (Amtrak) every day. Last night, all he wanted to do was play trains with Grandad.

This breaks my heart. I live with my husband and son in NYC. When I moved here five years ago, I had no real plans for staying this long. However life happens. Now I am here (with still a hope in my heart that we will one day be back living in Massachusetts). I talk to my family often. I text with my sister almost daily, my brother frequently, and facetime with my parents every weekend. I dream of raising my child in the suburbs with a yard he can run in and I can watch him from the kitchen window.

But for now, a trip up to MA every few months and the everyday advances in technology, help Vedder to have a relationship with Nani, Grandad, Auntie, and Unc.

So back to my story about last night.

While facetiming with Auntie, Vedder kept asking if she talked to Grandad. "Where's Grandad? Do you talk to Grandad? I want to play trains with Grandad." So we hung up with my sister and called my mom. Mom instantly answers the phone. "Hi, Vedder!!" "Ummm, Nani, I want to see Grandad." ((My poor mom and sister. Right now in V's life NO ONE measures up to Grandad.))

As soon as they see each other over the iPad, they laugh hysterically. This happens every time we facetime, and lasts for the first few minutes of the call. Just looking at each other laughing. Warms the heart.

Then after talking a bit, Vedder said "I want to play trains with Grandad." We moved the iPad onto the floor of his room. He showed my dad his train tracks all set up. While Vedder pushed around the trains, my dad said "Chugga Chugga Choo Choo!"

This lasted a few more minutes, but Vedder kept looking at me and saying "I want to play trains with Grandad." Obviously it was getting to the point where having Grandad watch from the iPad wasn't good enough. He wanted him there in person. This confused and longing look on Vedder's face broke my heart. And while my mind began to wallow in self pity for living so far away, something amazing happened.

I looked over at the iPad and noticed my dad. He had his head laying down on the kitchen table, imitating Vedder (he lays down on the floor to play trains). My dad had a small black Brio train in his hand, gliding it back and forth on the table. Vedder saw this and smiled. I saw this and cried. They were really playing trains together. Two hundred and fifty miles apart. My heart was so full it could have burst!

They played like this for a while. And as I became the official "FaceTime iPad Holder" I knew I was no longer needed (well, except to be the FaceTime iPad Holder). They played trains, made choo-choo noises, and watched each other. It was beyond the most perfect moment.

Like April 19th solidified our family years ago, February 5th is the day that solidified Vedder and Grandad's bond. They are best friends, and this moment is something they will have for the rest of their lives.


((SIDENOTE: I would also like to thank my parents. Not every family has the amount of love that ours does and I am so grateful for everything you have taught and shown me. It is because of your love and parenting - and our arguments, my rebellion, and your forgiveness - that has truly molded me into the mom I am today. I would be so lost without your constant love and guidance. Thank you for never giving up and always showing me that family is the strongest bond there is. Blood does not make a family, the people in it do. I am so proud to be your daughter.))

Funny thing happened on the way to see Santa..

..Well actually, on the way home after seeing Santa. 

Our two and a half year old was in full Scrooge mode last night yelling "no Santa! No tree! No lights!" for our annual holiday walk through Manhattan last night. Despite a few tantrums and obviously not at all being humbled with holiday spirit, we made it through the night with a few nice photos. 

On our way home we had to stop to grab Vedder a new sippy cup for bedtime. This is when full meltdown mode began. Trying to be calm and talk him through it didn't work, so the "no toys, trains or tv" came into play. We made our exit out of the store, grabbed slices to-go for dinner and headed home. There the three of us began to calm down and slowly unwind. While eating dinner this little voice said "Mumma, I want to say sorry to dada" (he had hit during his tantrum an hour before and that's when the "no toys when we get home" went into effect). I said "Ok. Dada is sitting right here. You can tell him" With these big puppy dog eyes and a little soft, shaky voice, Vedder said "So sorry Dada I hit." Our hearts exploded! He was beginning to think about his actions and was coming to apologize on his own! THIS IS HUGE! Michael and I smiled and looked at each other. We shared that "F-- yeah! We got this parent thing down pat!" 

That was until we heard what he said next. 

With out even breathing. "ok sorry Dada. Now I play trains" 

What? You just pulled that to get what you want and not because your mumma and dada have instilled compassion and the concept of learning right from wrong in you?!?! Damn it! That little sh-t! Are you kidding me? Two and a half and he' already calculating "I'm sorry so I can get my way." I was sure we had at least ten more years before the mischievous calculating went on in that little brain of his. 

No he didn't get toys or trains or tv. But he did knock down our parenting ego a notch. 

And now I can't help thinking that my karma is coming back to me.. in full force.  Damn it. 

Sorry, mom. 

The weekend we just lived.

I like to think I'm a good mom. I make time each night after work to sit and play, read or even watch TV with my son. I teach preschool during the day and then at night bring home exciting surprises like ABC flash cards to play with or play dough for of course fine motor. (Neither of these things does he truly care about but someday my future Harvard Grad will thank me.) On weekends I get no housework done because I would rather take Vedder all over the city discovering new things. We go to music class, the park, museums. I snap photos of our every adventure and post our moments on instagram and Facebook. Then the "likes" and comments come rolling in and I smile that people think these moments are as beautiful as I do. This past weekend was different. My last post was of a very happy toddler hamming it up in his car seat ready for his first official getaway with just mumma and daddy. Last post at 8 pm Friday night, goodbye new york and your busy streets. hello vermont and your amazingness, read the caption.

Now for some of you you're probably thinking "And? So you went a weekend without posting on Facebook? So what?" Others know how hard that task actually is. (I do have to admit, I did sneak in one instagram post on our car ride home Monday afternoon) I'm not an addict. I could probably go a week without posting no problem. But for my husband who believes I truly have an addiction, I made a promise not to post or even check Facebook for an entire weekend. I never thought it would actually have a serious impact. But it did.

Instead of instantly sharing funny, beautiful, or aggravating moments with my family online, I just lived them. I looked for no comments or likes or any sort of gratification via social networking. I just lived the moments, still snapping pictures, but it ending with that. Then I continued living.

In one moment, I tried to capture the perfect family photo and got aggravated because I couldn't stand the way my husband was unenthusiastically smiling and the way my face looked because the wind was blowing my hair everywhere. Vedder continued to just sit there smiling his ass off and of course looked perfect in every picture. This session ended with me and Michael screaming at each other and Vedder teaching himself how to hit the button and run to the couch before the timer finished and the camera flashed. This lightened the mood and we lived on.

Maybe it was the wine tasting earlier in the day mixed with the beers we were drinking, but in another moment I forgot about me and was just Mumma. Sitting at a table at Long Trail Brewery while having dinner, I bent towards Vedder, and he ran his car from my shoulder over my head back and forth creating a tangled mess. He laughed hysterically as I made obnoxiously exaggerated squeaks of "What are you doing to mumma? There's a car on my head!" I remember reading a mom's blog about getting in the picture. No matter that she hadn't lost the baby weight or didn't have makeup on or her hair done, she got in the picture with her son. This is exactly what I thought of as two matchbox cars rolled over my head, back and forth. When I would usually sit back and quickly fix my hair and find something else to entertain Vedder, I instead just sat there, with cars in my hair. Vedder isn't going to remember what my hair looked like, and to be honest, probably won't even remember the moment at all. But in the moment he laughed "haha mumma! Cars!" repeatedly and I will never forget it.

Our last moment of our family vacation was definitely less than perfect. As we settled back in at home, unpacking and getting ready for the work week, Vedder got ready for bed. Michael asks me where Ted (Vedder's bear that goes absolutely EVERYWHERE) is. As we begin to search, we both get a bad feeling. He was left in the rental car. I frantically called Hertz while Michael continues to search the house. No one was answering. There was a few inches if snow already on the ground and the wind was whipping more snow around. Not to mention it was freezing out. No hope. What if he fell out in the street while we unpacked the car? We went out to search. He had to be in the car. NO ONE IS FUCKING ANSWERING!! We were freaking out. Vedder was just sitting watching Backyardigans, having no clue the chaos and stress going on around him. Michael put his shoes and jacket on and walked 28 blocks in the snow to the rental car company. I put Vedder to bed trying to distract him with a bottle, a few bunched up blankets and other stuffed animals in hopes that he would be to distracted to notice Ted was gone. Five minutes later "Is Ted? Ted? Is Ted?" I called my parents and cried. After an hour or so waiting at Hertz, Michael called. "Got him!" He was found outside the old rental under inches of snow. I was so happy I cried again.

Three days of traveling, eating, playing in the snow, shopping, cooking, taking pictures, laughing, loving, loosing Ted and then finding him. Three days of living together as a family of three and nothing else. In all its craziness it was perfect.

And now as I share these moments on my blog, Facebook and twitter, you're probably thinking? Well what's the point, you just contradicted yourself by writing this entire post. The point of my weekend wasn't giving up ever sharing photos and stories. It was just giving up instantly sharing them. This weekend allowed me to live the moments, appreciate them and reflect on them. And then share with the world :)

Yes, my child just RAHH'd at you.

Well I know I haven't written a blog post in 6+ months. Or I should say I haven't posted one. I have about eight in the draft box but never seem to finish them. So here is a quick overview of the past few months..

Vedder started daycare around 10 months old and I got a full time teaching job at a preschool in July and love it but barely get to see Vedder so I overly make up for it by taking him to the zoo, park, museum, etc every weekend. His first birthday party went off great but then he got the stomach bug on his actual birthday so we never got to give him a cake and now he is 15 months going on 15 years old and I have no clue what I am doing.

This is exactly how my life feels right now - a long run-on sentence with no break. At the same time, while life seems to feel exhausting, I could not be happier! Vedder is growing into his own personality (oh, and what a personality it is!). I absolutely love being in my very own classroom. And my marriage seems to be in the best place it has ever been!!

But enough about all the happy things. Parenting is where I feel like I have absolutely no clue what I am doing. While Vedder's verbal and fine motor skills seem to be up to par ((due to my obsessive behavior to make sure he remains well educated even at 15 months)), it feels like sometimes I am dealing with a teenager! He has begun the temper tantrum phase where he will dramatically throw himself on the ground or strain to push tears out of his eyes if he doesn't get what he wants. As soon as the first tear falls he runs to me or my husband hugs our legs and throws his head back like it is the absolute end of the world. It truly is an Oscar winning performance. I have video taped a couple bouts and replayed them for him ((a tactic I have heard works with some children)) but initially thought maybe he wouldn't understand. When he watched the videos he laughs so hard at himself. That's when I realized we're screwed.

Along with the temper tantrum, there is hitting when he gets angry at us for taking something away ((or removing him from the kitchen after he successfully puts toys in the oven)). I sternly grab his hand and loudly say "No! We do NOT hit!" Surprisingly that stops that behavior in its tracks. But his newest this is.. well I don't really know what to call it.. growling, I guess. He makes this loud roar/yell at everyone. I mean everyone. When I come in smiling to take him out of the crib in the morning - RAHH! When the waiter wants to clear our table after we're done eating - RAHH! When the nice woman, man, cashier, grocer, person leans over and says "Hi little boy, how cute is he!" - RAHH! Everyone gets a RAHH! I smile, mortified and embarrassed, and say "Oh Vedder we don't yell like that at the nice people. We say hi!" ...RAHH!

Fabulous.

It's funny because going through the new born phase a year ago, I always thought that was going to be the hardest part about becoming a parent. That phase where you lose your independence and 100% of your energy goes to now taking care of this child 24 hours a day. Then they begin to sit up, crawl, eat on their own, walk, run, fall, get hurt, become picky eaters, want to play with the gas stove or microwave their trains. Then you sit in the middle of the floor exhausted having been climbed all over, punched, bit, hit with a toy, and feel defeated. As you put your head down, covering your face with your hands and take a big breathe as not to scream at the top of your lungs, you begin to hear giggling. You uncover your face, looking up, seeing a very happy, healthy, smart, beautiful child who thinks all you are doing is getting ready for a new game of peek-a-boo. 

Damn it. I do love being a mom.

Detachment parenting

With all of this hoopla about attachment parenting going around, everyone seems to be an expert on how to raise kids. Well, everyone except me. I have no clue what I'm doing.

Before I became a mum I had it all figured out. "My son will NEVER sleep with us." "I will not put my child in front of the tv at such an early age." "I will only feed my child 100% natural, organic everything." Ha! I do feed him all natural, healthy food, but when an organic apple is $7 more than a "regular" apple, I'm going to be cheap. And when sitting him in the walker in front of Yo Gabba Gabba means I can actually pee without a little human trying to crawl on to my lap, then "listening and dancing to music is AWESOME!"

Even after Vedder was born, I still stuck by my guns in not letting him sleep with us.. for like the first few months. Going against every doctors' order, I began to nap with my little man. Then when teething started, so did the co-sleeping. I guess I could have used the excuse that I was trying to bond with my child and let him know that mama and daddy are going to be here throughout all the pain he's going through. But that really had very little to do with him sleeping with us. It was more like "Wait, if he sleeps with us, we'll sleep through the night ((for the most part)) and not have to get up 100 times and walk to his room to comfort him and feel like a normal human in the mornings again?? LETS DO IT!" It was, for the most part, a selfish decision. I'm not saying I totally regret it; I did sleep well for a while and the cuddle time was priceless. But now, ten months old, 26 lbs, and a linebacker in training, those cuddle sessions at night have turned into pulled hair, jabs to the ribs, and enormous headaches in the morning that resemble hangovers, without the joy of actually drinking. And Vedder, he wakes up happy and energetic as ever, not realizing ((or maybe realizing)) he was training for MMA in his sleep using Michael and I as punching bags.

So, let the sleep training begin!!

This started out as awful as you probably think. Friday night was Vedder's first night out of mum and dada's bed. Cold turkey. Which means, I slept on the floor in his room while he woke up every hour and cried in his crib until I brought him down to sleep with me on the floor at 4 am. Saturday night I went to bed at 8pm by myself. When I woke up Sunday morning and walked out to the living room, my only assumption, looking down at Vedder and my husband sleeping on the floor, was that Saturday night went alot like Friday night. And Sunday night? Yep. Same as Friday and Saturday.

So after a weekend of no sleep, I turned to the only reputable source that I knew would offer me the greatest advice. Facebook.

Status Update:

Last night Vedder slept on the living room floor with Michael. Tonight, he's sleeping on his bedroom floor with me. As soon as he is asleep we try to transfer him to his crib but he wakes up screaming. No more in mama and daddy's bed, but the floor with us is just as bad!! How do we get him sleeping in his own crib again?! ((yes, I know we should have done this months ago..and months ago he was sleeping fine in his crib. Then teething happened))

Sometimes I really miss the nights when my late night statuses would be drunken slurs of song lyrics and how I am making memories I will never remember with friends I'll never forget. 

Ugh. Parenthood. 

Then I waited. But not long. The advice came flooding in via comments, messages, emails and texts. General consensus: Cry It Out! The overwhelming empathy was reassuring. There were also multiple responses to my post encouraging co-sleeping, that it benefits the child and solidifies the parents bond, and I shouldn't feel guilty. I dont feel guilty that I'm sleeping with him. I know he'll eventually learn to sleep on his own. And, like I said before, my reasons for bedsharing were more selfish than maternal.

So we decided to do the "cry it out method" mixed with our own twist on the "happiest baby on the block" method. But since my maternal heart strings get plucked every time I hear Vedder cry, my husband took bedtime duty for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday night. Monday night, we kept our pre-bed routine the same. Pjs. Bottle. Book. Then Michael took Vedder and I stayed away. From the other room I could hear some grunts of protest. My husband ended up rocking him to sleep with music playing, then put him in the crib. He woke up at 1:30 and 2:30, then slept until 6:30. Tuesday we decided no more rocking. We also altered his naps during the day ((45 min am nap & 2 hour pm nap)). I am thinking this was a major change that needed to be made as well. At night we kept the same pre-bed time routine as always. Then Michael swaddled him tight, like we do for naps, turned on the music, and turned off the lights. A few cries but after five minutes, Vedder was fast asleep. I think he may have woken up once or twice in the middle of the night and up for good at 7 am. Wednesday was Michael's last night of bedtime duty for the week. And boy did he go out with a bang!! Normal bedtime routine. Swaddle. Music. Out like a light!! Then not a peep until 7 am on Thursday. Since I had bedtime on Thursday night it went similarly, except I got a few whines, but sleep quickly after and thru the night.

Our one week of sleep training was a complete success!! Not only by the end of 7 days were we getting full nights of sleep, but so was Vedder. I think this had a MAJOR effect on his day at daycare too ((less tears, more playing)).

Now let's just keep our fingers crossed that these full nights last..

Race you to the park??

Most of my posts have been about the good mixed with the bad. I am finding it very therapeutic to write about the difficult things of becoming a parent. I very rarely ((if ever)) want to ask for help. And when I feel overwhelmed and write, getting responses from people about how they feel the same way makes this chaos feel a little more normal.

However this post is only about the good. Actually the GREAT!! This morning Vedder and I went to music class where we sang and wiggled wih about 20 other families. Clapping and singing away the case of the Mondays. And now I am sitting in the park writing this blog while Vedder takes a nap in his stroller. The sun is shining and it's 70 degrees out. By the way, it's March 19th. As soon as he decides to wake up he will have a bottle and then we will go play on the slide and swings. This is one of my most favorite parts of being a parent, being able to be a kid again.

Having a child gives you so many great excuses. Don't want to go out? "Oh no. We can't get a babysitter." ((which sometimes back fires when you do want to go out and really cannot get a babysitter)) Want to leave a family party early before all the usual family drama goes into effect? "Gotta get baby home to bed!!" But my favorite excuse that I use so often it is starting to create a problem: "Household chores? Cleaning? Laundry? Dishes? They can wait. Baby wants to go outside and play!!" I am a daycare teacher and more often then not find my energy skyrocketing on the walk home from work due to excitement about being able to roll around and play with Vedder. I get so excited, like a kid, when I see the forecast for the week and know that it is quite possible that the park and zoo could fill up very day in the week.

And while the dirty clothes may start to pile higher than my son when he's standing, it's ok because we'll be outside everyday this week so we won't have to see all the laundry.

Race you to the park??

Happy Spring, Everyone!!

Dinner for Two

In the few month before I was pregnant, I was the skinniest and healthiest I had been in my life, weighing 128lbs . Like always right?? Then this miracle comes along that you couldn't be happier about, but brings with it added hormones, pains, and weight. And extra 43 lbs to be exact. After I had my linebacker of a baby at 9lbs 4oz, I had lost 1/3 of the baby weight just in delivery. I was psyched! By the middle of September I had lost half the baby weight. I was taking zumba classes, going on daily walks with Vedder and on my way back to that fun, fit girl I was before the bun in the oven. Then the winter months rolled in. And like most women, I blamed my plateau-ing of weight loss to the holidays. But now it's March. And I'm gaining weight again!! Yes I've checked a million times, scared to death. And no I'm not pregnant again, thank the universe!! But what is it?? I'm just as active. Back to work part time, still going to daily walks, even using what little arm strength I do have to carry a stroller up and down subway stairs a few times a week.
Then it hit me. Even though I wasn't eating ice cream everyday anymore like I did my entire pregnancy ((Mr Softee chocolate soft serve with a cherry dip)), I was still eating for two. Everyday. And I don't have the excuse that I need more calories because of breastfeeding, since my son takes formula. I try to portion myself. And over all I eat healthy: whole grains, veggies and fruit, chicken, and very little red meat. But five minutes after a normally portioned meal I am starving and feel that I need to eat all over again!!
Many other moms I have talked to have sympathetically said "you only had Vedder seven months ago! Its taken me years to finally get the baby weight off." And while comforting to know that the struggle I'm experiencing is normal, it doesn't change the fact that I have three weddings this summer, two of which I am a bridesmaid in a short, flirty, summer dress.
So come on, Stomach, shrink back to the tiny size you were summer 2010!! ...oh wait, its not that easy.. ok maybe I should try something else then..

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