One Last Snow

Every year around Valentine's Day Big Sis and her husband come to DC for a week for a work-related thing, and every year they bring crazy cold weather. It's true. Every single year. Meteorologists might try to convince you that this has always been the case around President's Day weekend, but I dunno. I think it's Big Sis.

And this year was just like before. Except, that is, without me having to take her to the hospital and get her treated by my doc on the L&D floor and forcing her to finish her turkey sandwich so we could all go back home on that snow day.

This year, we had our annual brunch with Mama and Papa H, KB's family, Big Sis's and mine where, like we have every single year since beginning this tradition, we showed up with more kids than the year before. Table for thirteen anyone? One sling, one high chair, three sets of crayons and lots of delicious Clyde's food and conversation.

Afterwards we all fought the cold by cramping together in my tiny house for Mama H's surprises: layered cake and iced sugar cookies. Of course the naptime countdown began and some wailing commenced, but once the babes were all locked away, and sadly that meant KB and fam heading out, we did manage to get a game of Scattergories going.

You guys, do you hear that? It's the sound of me celebrating convincing my family to play a competitive board game with me!!! (It's also me entering the 2000s and learning how to save and use gifs - expect my blog to be revolutionized with short animated visuals (also no, there's no actual sound, don't worry, I'm not that fancy))

Anyway, it was all in all a great day. And much like the last time Big Sis was in town, and like the previous years she visited, it was immediately followed by snow.

Monday, a day I already had off school of course, was a beautiful snow day. Three or four inches of pretty, light, fluffy stuff just dancing outside the windows.

We didn't get many snowstorms this year, and one could argue winter isn't officially over yet, but the few we got were still dazzling and perfectly punctuated by this sweet little white blanket.

Also, by some strange miracle, we got Tuesday off school too, which naturally meant we hung out around the house like this.

Isn't that how you dress on your days off? Boots, helmets, and Christmas pajamas? Ok, good. Me too.

So... spring?

Home Is Where the Money Is

J-Man and I are thinking about buying a house this year. To best explain where we are on this journey, let's imagine that buying a house is swimming in the deep end of a pool. In that case we are by the steps to the shallow end, still with shorts and a t-shirt over our suits, not having removed jewelry, and crazy enough not to have applied the necessary sunscreen. We're scrolling on our phones while placing just one foot in the water to see if it's the right temperature.

Ok, maybe now that we've started to admit that we're thinking about it, perhaps we have two feet in, but still not past our ankles.

What is it about home ownership that's so much scarier than marriage at age twenty-four, parenthood, and then more parenthood? Is it the money?

Yeah.

It's the money.

First, it's so awkward to talk about. Especially in a bubble like Northern Virginia where houses and souls are priced in the same tax bracket. Like, when a person asks you where you're thinking of moving, you know they're also asking you how much you plan to spend, then judging accordingly. When we say probably not A-town, do they automatically think, "so less than a half mil"? And does that make us the poor folks?

I mean, I'd love to live in A-town. But, in reality, less than a half mil is totally more my style.

If you say closer to the outskirts of the beltway they hear "bargain hunter" and likely have visions of neighbors who will look more like us, even if the languages spoken will vary a good bit. Is that the worst thing? Would it be so bad to not be the only brown family on the block? (That's rhetorical, obviously)

When they ask about commutes and we say we want to be fair to both of us based on where we work now, and where we might seek employment later, what assumptions are they making about our family life? Do they know how J-Man gets up most mornings these days to at least get the boys dressed, if not all the way through teeth brushing, jackets, granola bars and out the door? Do they know how much the boys - and I! - crave the hour with him that he gets between work and their bedtime? Would a great deal on a giant house be worth cutting that down in half? Or worse, extinguishing it completely?

How much house does a person need anyway? We say three bedrooms, but I can't foresee the day when my boys will need to separate. We can do bunk beds. We can keep the toy fairy around with frequent visits to trim our junky overloads.

Don't even get me started on yards. I loved growing up on enough land that I never had to shut my blinds while getting dressed. I also loved that it was never my responsibility to keep up with it. Sure I've mowed the lawn, watered plants, picked plenty of green beans, but I never had to. Now when I see houses with lawns on Zillow I imagine not how cute the curb appeal is, but how much work it must be to keep up. Same with too many square feet. Who's gonna clean all that?

But if we live close to the city and give up the square footage and green grass, aren't we paying so much more for so much less? Which brings us back to money. Always the money.

Houses around here cost so much money.

I guess we'll see if we can go a month without a car repair or other random thousand dollar surprise and maybe a mortgage won't be so scary. Maybe we won't relish calling the landlord when the washer starts trickling water because we openly love not having to pay a cent to get it fixed. Maybe life will toss us an amazing HUD-50%-off-because-you're-a-teacher deal in a neighborhood that's just the right balance of "up and coming" instead of "down and out," and we'll really do this thing.

While we wait and see, we're gonna stay here in the shallow end, practicing our basic math with these precious boys of ours. These precious, expensive, lifelong contracts of boys we couldn't possibly love any more.

Sadmark Mall

The mall where I get my hair done is the saddest place on earth. This has nothing to do with my own feelings about getting my hair done. It's just really empty, and really depressing.

It shouldn't be quite so bad. It's easily accessible from 395, has tons of parking, three stories, a Macy's... you'd think the shops would stick around. Instead the shops are mostly hair-related. Salons, barber shops, wig shops, eyebrow threading, etc. Besides that, just a lot of empty, boarded up commercial space.

So based on previous experiences at this mall, we've decided there are only four reasons a person ventures here

1. hair business
2. speedwalking in constant circles
3. the small toddler play area
4. chick-fil-a

Unsurprisingly, #3 tends to lead into #4. Except, when we went last weekend during the great Snowzilla Thaw, we hung out with KB's and another family, until the kids started getting bored and hungry and wandering away. We happily put shoes back on, headed up the escalators to the food court to find... Cajun Mongolian. Everything else was out of business. No frozen lemonade and nuggets for this lot.

I felt badly for the lady from Cajun Mongolian, the place where J-Man would have happily eaten regardless of CFA's fate. She tried her best to lure us over with samples with no luck. As our three families stood, trying to make pre-meltdown lunch plans for the kiddos, we watched her try and fail to convince the next few groups of people riding up the escalator to find the same sad fate of our tasty lunch dreams. They were equally disappointed and uninterested in a replacement.

We soon trudged out of the mall en route to a cheap buffet in hopes that we'd all get full enough for Saturday naps,  and J-Man told me he didn't want to ever come back. Not that the kids were bad or he misses juicy chicken sandwiches, but the place just makes him sad. Deeply, profoundly, sad.

But let's face it, depressing as it may be, I'll be back. Even without a chick-fil-a, my house is too small to survive winter without the occasional sad or strange indoor play area. We'll just pack some sandwiches next time and pretend malls are supposed to be that devoid of actual economic activity.

Snow Day One... Of Many

Tomorrow I return to work after seven consecutive snow days. Seven. And tomorrow is a work day, so that means it will be eight business days - twelve actual days - without seeing any students. That is a really, really long time.

So long that I've lost my mind, just a tiny bit.

It started kind of cute. Wednesday night before the storm we were supposed to get a dusting. With J-Man having a terrible work trip to Atlanta all week, Mama and Papa H, along with Big Sis and Baby C, had come over for dinner and playtime. As they went to get in their car we saw this scene.

Over an hour later they made it to the onramp of the highway, only to learn the highway was shut down and not moving. Turns out no one within the beltway pre-treated the roads so it was a giant skating rink for rush hour. A little over another hour later they made it back to my house where it turned into an H family sleepover. Poor Baby C had no pack-n-play or crib, so it wasn't our best rested night in this house, but given that MDG exists, it was still far from the worst.

My school system doesn't play with snow anymore, so we shut down before midnight and the next day the boys got to ease into winter.

Little did I know that would be the beginning of an extended staycation snowed in. I'm looking forward to the return to civilization. But only sort of. I also really enjoyed an impromptu reason to stay home, build forts, watch too much TV, and get to know the neighbors through shoveling parties and shared outdoor child supervision.

If PDG Made a Mixtape

We're all caught up on MDG, but what about big brother you ask?

Well, PDG chats up a storm these days, with the majority of his full sentences being short commands. You know - "Mommy, get up now," or "Stop it, Daddy. No singing." It's both cute and oppressive at once. When ignored, he'll eventually soften his voice and add a please to the end. Not quite a question, but gentler request nonetheless.

Along with all the talking has come an ability to express himself through song, and to state "I like it" to affirm his favorites when he hears them. So, based on what he requests at bedtime and naptime, what he is later caught singing to himself, and what makes him clap his hands and say "yay!" I have compiled this list of PDG's top hits.

(Also, the pictures at the bottom are from a recent trip to National Harbor. They didn't quite warrant a post of their own, but I liked them. So, yeah.)

In no particular order...

The ABC's - careful with this one.  We use it to brush teeth and have changed the last line to "now we're done brushing PDG's teeth." If you sing the original, expect a blank stare, possibly inherited from his mother's bag-o-looks.

You Are My Sunshine - shortened to "Sunshine" and sung on repeat with "sunshine" being replaced by MDG and PDG's names to keep it fresh.

I Love to See the Temple - the best is when he requests for J-Man to sing this children's song from church. Talk about freestylin' lyrics...

Popcorn Popping - Another church one, though requested less now that spring is behind us and there are less blossoms to inspire it.

Let it Go - Come on, you didn't think I could not buy the Frozen soundtrack and play it on repeat did you?

No Flex Zone - As I type this PDG is singing to himself, with all the right emphasis, "No flex... zone! No flex... zone! They knoooow better." Operation raise-kids-loving-rap-and-musical-soundtracks is going well so far.

Anything Katy Perry - Don't judge.

And lastly, Dynomite - Because what two year old doesn't want to throw his hands in the air and say "ay-o, baby let's go"?

Having fun, I swear

See that Ferris Wheel? PDG has asked to go on it again almost every day since - a solid two weeks

A great day with my boys, up in the air. And a real smile from PDG. 

Ups and Downs and the Zoo

Not long ago a friend who knows me well, and who does not have children, asked me how I was handling summer vacation with my two little guys.  I struggled to find words before summarizing it as follows:

"It's going ok. I mean, at some point every day I want to pull my hair out and scream 'why do I have children?!' but other than that, good."

She smiled. And at the nearby table (we were in Panera like good ol' Pton days) a mother of a preteen smiled and laughed to herself, seemingly in agreement.

I like that there's this movement and openness about how parenthood can be the best and worst thing ever, and how those two emotions can swing back and forth within the same day/hour/activity. Lots of people are writing about it.  Makes me feel less alone in the roller coaster. Nevertheless, ups and downs abound.

A few days ago I took the boys to the national zoo. It was a morning after MDG had woken up a ridiculous four times for his paci before deciding to just be totally up at 5:45, but it was supposed to be good weather so we went for it. I dressed the boys in lions and tigers and headed into the city. Yes, I got lost. We won't dwell on that.

We found the two hour free parking (Harvard St), and hiked our way up that giant hill of a zoo. PDG loved it. There were lions and tigers (we didn't go see bears this trip) and orangutans crossing on the high wires, and prairie dogs and too many turtles to count and, and, and... it seemed like we saw a lot in those two hours. MDG dozed off, but PDG was alert and curious and a really good listener.

We had prepared healthy snacks both ways in the car and only barely got turned around before getting home just in time for a full lunch and naptime. But then, in a twisted turn of events, naptime failed. PDG didn't sleep a wink. MDG, distracted by PDG's very loud non-sleeping, kept almost falling asleep, before waking suddenly and angrily. I was exhausted from the workout and the driving stress and the night before. I just needed a little time. Thirty minutes?

I think that's actually what I did eventually get from MDG, despite the banging of PDG rolling and kicking in his bed "reading." It just felt like they would never, ever, ever sleep again.

I wanted to pull my hair out.

(Non)Quiet time ended and we played with toys. We made a "tunnel" out of soda boxes like the one below and we giggled and raced and cooperated. We walked to the park, played, and after some bribery to leave, returned home from the park. It was grand.

Then PDG wanted to stand in the doorway letting in mosquitoes and flies and I made him close the door. He flipped out. Wails and tears and kicking and slumping to the ground and all so, so LOUD!

I again wanted to pull my hair out.

I thought back to what I've read about tantrums. Using language he'd understand. Empathizing. Only acknowledging good behavior. I'm sure I remembered some of it wrong, but I was genuinely trying. And he was genuinely shrieking. And MDG was going back and forth between laughing at him (was this a silly big brother game?) and crying (is someone hurting my big brother? is he ok?!?).

So. Loud.

Of course, that's when J-Man walked in. Based on the scene, he assumed it was a bad day. Who could blame him? How do you explain that, despite this moment right here, right now, and a few other very real and overwhelming points in the day, it was actually great? I might've had some of the best moments of the summer that day.

What he saw was me, frazzled, covered in spit-up and dinner ingredients, with a furrowed brow and an expression of these-are-your-kids-not-mine.

After we successfully calmed down and ate food and completed the bedtime rituals, he and I got to talk. I got to tell him about my day. I got to remember everything that had made it fantastic. I got to contextualize how few minutes, all things considered, were actually terrible.

I don't know how one does that when there's screaming and needing and irrational commotion. I don't know if I'll ever spend 10-12 solo hours with babies and toddlers and avoid daily pull-my-hair-out moments. But that's what parenthood feels like to me right now.

It's going ok.  Great even.  But I definitely want to scream sometimes.

Oh, and I'm definitely going back to the zoo.

so many baby lions!

Spring Break Begins (2014)

First, I should say, I spoke too soon in my last post. :(

Ok, moving on from that unpleasantness...

We've survived the stomach bug and finally arrived at Spring Break.

Last year we went to San Francisco and Sea-Tac and found out we were gonna have another baby over spring break.  This year's agenda includes none of that.  Especially the pregnancy news.

Instead the plan is to roll with the weather, nap whenever possible, race across the yard a billion times, walk to the park daily, eat 'belly beans' and Easter treats, sing the itsy-bitsy spider on repeat, scrape our knees, refuse to come inside for dinner, squeal for the heck of it, and at some point get to see Mama and Papa H.

So far so good.

Friday was a low key, play at the park, quick dinner, and more backyard play, sort of evening. The reality of a week off hadn't yet set in.

Saturday, though, was full force.  PDG and I left MDG home with J-Man for morning naps while we indulged in a walk to 7-11 for donuts and juice that we later enjoyed after continuing to walk to the park.  We goofed in the backyard before I left to see my students in the high school performance of Bye Bye Birdie.  Turns out I teach some all-stars of more than just Spanish.  Also, I forgot how stage musicals can be really, really long.

That evening KB and family hosted a barbecue at their house.  PDG, his friend Lil O, and another 2 year old were inseparable.  While last time Lil O and PDG fought endlessly for this car...

...this time the three of them managed to share pretty well.  In fact, they kinda didn't need us.  On occasion PDG would appear to ask "sip?" or "bite?" but otherwise he freely chased the dog, drove the ride-on toys, kicked the ball, or simply ran and screamed with delight.  Is this what parenting bigger kids is like?  Weird.

Then Saturday Miss S, our daycare provider, hosted us for an Easter Party.  She went all out with treats and baskets and snacks and prizes.  While PDG was pretty bad at the games, he took the egg hunt seriously.  Especially when he figured out you could open the eggs and find treats he'd never seen before.

You should know by now that PDG doesn't smile when he's investigating new things. These were the best pictures we could get. And, yeah, J-Man was the only adult there to get his face painted. Go figure.

The weather was so perfect that as soon as naps were over we called up Miss M to meet her and N and friends at Yards Park for general chillaxing.  Thankfully no one minded the arrival of our family of four, and the babies were welcomed and played with and happily included into the crew.  PDG did try to eat their blue crab shells from their lunch, certain that meat must be a part of that pile.  I guess that'll now be on the agenda for summer break.

It was a whirlwind weekend, and that's before any of the days off even started.

I'd keep writing, but as I mentioned in my agenda, naps are at the top of the list.  I think it'll take me years to feel rested again, so might as well start now.

M&N's Wedding

I'm sure I've said it before, but I love weddings!  I really do.  I love how happy everyone is.  The people getting married.  The people involved in the wedding.  The people in the audience, watching the two in love, reflecting on their own loves.

So. Much. Love.

I get all sappy at weddings.  Especially during the vows.  I can't even blame it on pregnancy this time - I'm just a softie who loves hearing people say sweet things to the person they don't ever want to live without.  Oh, and I should mention, these vows were fabulously crafted, extended metaphors on tandem biking.  Exquisite.

The other thing I love is how weddings are such a great fit for the couple.  Like, this wedding screamed M&N because it was their day.  The wedding I attended for Miss R in October had a totally different feel and was equally amazing because it screamed R&G.

Bonus points if you can find Miss F in all but one of these :)

Can I say though, I'm kinda glad I got married before all my friends started attending bunches of weddings and would have opinions one way or another about any choices I made.  Not that I'd change them.  I loved my wedding.  I just know that being me, I'd manage to worry.  Even just the anxiety of the possibility of added pressure would get me.  Which, when it comes to anxiety, it's all about perception anyway.  So yeah. Phew.  And if you're reading this and not married and one day I'll get to be invited, know that I will be oohing and ahhing no matter what decisions you make on the billion choices that go into a wedding day. Because, if you hadn't gathered, I love weddings.

So, right, back to M&N.  It was fabulous.  J-Man enjoyed the light-hearted homily that acknowledged without overstating the same-sex nature of the union.  And the oysters.  And the seared tuna.  And the fact that the dancing started full-on before the salads were even served.

I loved the dresses and the venue (which I introduced to M back when we saw Music Man there) and the way the two of them looked at each other and smiled all night.  And the photo booth.  And the mad libs.

There was just so much to love.

Above all, I got to spend the evening with three of my favorite ladies.

It was a night out that I really needed.  A chance to dress up and dance with J-Man and be carefree (except for the necessary pumping in the bathroom) and feel young.

I'm lucky that I found my someone to love and that we still feel the same, even seven years later.  I'm lucky to have sweet boys to care for, and parents who will care for them instead when I need a break.  I'm so glad to see M&N enjoy that same lucky feeling too.

Sliding in Southeast

Last weekend was a big one here in DC.  You know why?

You're so smart!  Exactly!  PDG tried out the slide for the first time.

Oh, right, and inauguration :)

I know I could've attended the inauguration, and that weather was actually great.  I guess, one day, maybe I might regret it when I tell my grandchildren that I lived in DC when the first black president got inaugurated for the second time and instead I stayed home and played with their daddy and worked on a video of all my favorite clips of his first year for his upcoming birthday.

Probably not.

But the Sunday before all the excitement on the mall, we did venture close to the capitol and even took a stroll through southeast.  Well, the part of southeast that is "up and coming" or whatever, and just as full of hipsters, strollers and trendy restaurants as any other gentrifying neighborhood.

After a brunch with some Seattlites here to celebrate our/their friend Trashles' (seriously, that's her nickname, given with equal parts love and teasing) birthday and the presidential events, we found ourselves meandering into a cute little park.

PDG's previous park experiences have mostly just had him in his stroller watching the big kids play.  This time, though, my boys decided to be daring.

PDG loved the slide, so we did it a bunch of times.  The little tunnel that you can crawl through?  Not so much. That was a disaster.  A wailing, screaming disaster.

Maybe next time.  And by next time, I mean not until the weather decides to come back above freezing again.  This cold snap has been intense!