January in Minnesota is truly not for the faint of heart. Our first winter here is one of the coldest since 2000. We had record snowfall for the month of December and near record breaking subzero air temperatures this past weekend. In order to venture out you need to spend 10 minutes putting on required garb. Even to take out the trash, you cannot just dash from the back door to the bin in anything less than a hat, boots, jacket and gloves. Your hands will stick to the metal on the screen door, your nose hairs will freeze and your skin will sting if exposed to the piercing cold. We look like bank robbers when we go out to walk Tucker with our black face mask and hat pulled low in our puffy down coats and insulated gloves.
With that said, it takes great planning to get both ourselves and Cole ready for a journey out of the house. Cole's snowsuit is so thick he can barely move once we wrestle him into it so you have to leave that until last as he doesn't like the inability to move. The problem is that once you have all your layers on, you begin to heat up quickly so the sheer exercise of putting Cole into his snowsuit leaves you sweating. This whole scenario can add quite a bit of time to getting out the door, so you have to begin ahead of when you think you want to actually pull out of the driveway and then add some more time for last minute diaper changes, meltdowns etc. Once you get into the garage and start the car, you now have to attempt to get him into his carseat with your gloves on. This is a futile act but I find myself attempting to manage in such a manner each and every time. The straps and buckles are just too tiny to snap into place with bulky fleece gloves. I find myself pulling off the gloves in a race to get him into his seat before he moves and I have to reposition the straps lengthening the time my hands are exposed to the icy air. In the "comfort" of our garage, this is tolerable. In the parking lot at Target as the arctic winds whip around me, I curse silently.
We when arrive at a destination, before you open the door, you plan your path which means whatever way is fastest. You must remember that the parking lots and streets are continually snow and ice covered so your footing is crucial as you race walk with your heads down to get inside. Once back into the dry overheated warmth you have to unzipper jackets and remove hats only to repeat the aforementioned process all over when we depart.
Shorts and t-shirts will never feel so good as they will approximately 100 days from now.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
A winter walk in the woods...
With another big chill (we are talking highs in the single digits) due to settle in by midweek, I have learned to take advantage of clear, calm days with temperatures above 20 degrees to get out and fill my tank with crisp fresh air. So today Cole and I went meandering through the Nature Preserve which is all but 3 miles from our house. We have visited several times since our move here but not yet during the quiet winter months.
Yesterday we had a dusting of new snow which carpeted what was left of our record snowfall. The untouched snowflakes sparkled in the weak January sun reminding me of the power of glare. The winter informational signs were posted and I stopped and read about the often overlooked creation and shape of the six sided wonders.
We started off on the Marsh Trail which circled around the lake. My footsteps were softened and muffled by the fresh layer of snow. Cole babbled from his perch up in the carrier, all bundled in his downy snowsuit. He has been enjoying his new ride and perspective and I have enjoyed becoming more mobile with him without the constraints of using the stroller.
As we found our pace, my movement steady, Cole quieted and within 10 minutes he had fallen asleep. I had my mind to myself to clear out the cobwebs and I took the peaceful opportunity to make many an observation.
The trail looped over the lake in places via a boardwalk. Only three months ago, the cattails that surrounded the water were swaying in the autumn breeze. Now they were frozen in place as the lake was a block of ice, literally. Their once smooth brown bodies now frayed and swollen with their innards puffing out like an old couch loosing its stuffing. The creak of the boardwalk was now not the give and take of the floats that kept it above water but of my weight pressing the wood against the icy surface.
The big looming trees looked frail and weary posing stark and naked against the winter sky. The newly fallen snow lay punctured on the sharp brambles and branches, their hardness to protect those who would turn supple and green again in the spring.
As I continued on up the Pine Trail and we made our way through the trees, the trail was less traveled and the footprints of the wood's critters were visible; deer, fox, rabbit. I looked around and wondered where they all were hiding as there were few places to remain incognito.
The sound of my breath and my foot falls were all the noise that existed. No birds chirping, no water lapping, no wind whistling. Just the quiet and solitude of a winter day.
Cole began to awake with a few adorable sighs as if he knew our hike was coming to an end. As he began to chatter we engaged in conversation about all the things that I wanted to teach and show him about the wonders of nature and how some day I hoped that he would enjoy getting out whatever the season to enjoy some fresh air!
Yesterday we had a dusting of new snow which carpeted what was left of our record snowfall. The untouched snowflakes sparkled in the weak January sun reminding me of the power of glare. The winter informational signs were posted and I stopped and read about the often overlooked creation and shape of the six sided wonders.
We started off on the Marsh Trail which circled around the lake. My footsteps were softened and muffled by the fresh layer of snow. Cole babbled from his perch up in the carrier, all bundled in his downy snowsuit. He has been enjoying his new ride and perspective and I have enjoyed becoming more mobile with him without the constraints of using the stroller.
As we found our pace, my movement steady, Cole quieted and within 10 minutes he had fallen asleep. I had my mind to myself to clear out the cobwebs and I took the peaceful opportunity to make many an observation.
The trail looped over the lake in places via a boardwalk. Only three months ago, the cattails that surrounded the water were swaying in the autumn breeze. Now they were frozen in place as the lake was a block of ice, literally. Their once smooth brown bodies now frayed and swollen with their innards puffing out like an old couch loosing its stuffing. The creak of the boardwalk was now not the give and take of the floats that kept it above water but of my weight pressing the wood against the icy surface.
The big looming trees looked frail and weary posing stark and naked against the winter sky. The newly fallen snow lay punctured on the sharp brambles and branches, their hardness to protect those who would turn supple and green again in the spring.
As I continued on up the Pine Trail and we made our way through the trees, the trail was less traveled and the footprints of the wood's critters were visible; deer, fox, rabbit. I looked around and wondered where they all were hiding as there were few places to remain incognito.
The sound of my breath and my foot falls were all the noise that existed. No birds chirping, no water lapping, no wind whistling. Just the quiet and solitude of a winter day.
Cole began to awake with a few adorable sighs as if he knew our hike was coming to an end. As he began to chatter we engaged in conversation about all the things that I wanted to teach and show him about the wonders of nature and how some day I hoped that he would enjoy getting out whatever the season to enjoy some fresh air!
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Something for the New Year...
I haven't had a lot of time lately to productively write and complete a worthwhile post. Ideas come to me at random moments normally while I am unable to capture them on paper or via my cyber pen. I say to myself that I will remember those quick flashes of insights but I never do *sigh*. So to put something on the board for 2008 in my quest to post every seven days, I am including the statement below which I got from a book I just finished. It took me 9 weeks to read the 400 pages *sigh* as I was only able to read 10-12 pages a few nights a week before I succumbed to my daily fatigue.
From "Because I said So" by Kate Moses
"Learning to surf is a lot like learning to mother. I have the gear, I understand the theory and I have occasional success. But the ocean doesn't stay still and neither do kids. Stable ground exists but only under powerful ever changing currents. Paddling out takes strength, persistence and the ability to roll under the crashing waves. I have days where I don't think I'm going to make it only to forget my worries as the sun shines in lighting up my kid's faces making me smile. I have the rest of my life to get this parenting thing down, meanwhile I am wowed by my kids laughter , amazed at their brilliance and the love that surrounds me"
From "Because I said So" by Kate Moses
"Learning to surf is a lot like learning to mother. I have the gear, I understand the theory and I have occasional success. But the ocean doesn't stay still and neither do kids. Stable ground exists but only under powerful ever changing currents. Paddling out takes strength, persistence and the ability to roll under the crashing waves. I have days where I don't think I'm going to make it only to forget my worries as the sun shines in lighting up my kid's faces making me smile. I have the rest of my life to get this parenting thing down, meanwhile I am wowed by my kids laughter , amazed at their brilliance and the love that surrounds me"
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Christmas traditions...
Christmas has always been my favorite holiday, Christmas Eve in particular. For as long as I can reach back into my memory, I always loved sitting in the dark on Xmas Eve, watching the tree twinkle with its lights and sparkle with its ornaments, absorbing the peace and calm before the spirited festivities began.
I have a multitude of notable Christmas memories, here are some to share:
I remember Dad stringing the lights on our trees, I remember Abby our cat mingling around and spending most of the month of December underneath it, I remember visits to Santa at LuLu Country Club, I remember Mom baking dozens of butter cookies using the pastry bag and creating gingerbread houses, I remember getting dressed up and going to NYC on the train for the day when Dad worked there for his company's family holiday party, I remember lighting candles ever so carefully during Xmas Eve church service, I remember goodies placed on the hearth and notes written to Santa (and the crumbs and soot left behind by him the next morning), I remember the feeling of anticipation that my sister and I had as we scurried to bed so excited about Santa coming while we slept, I remember squinting at the bright lights of the video camera as Dad captured us running down the stairs at some ungodly early hour on Christmas Mornings, I remember kitchen sets and doll houses and bikes, I remember stockings brimming over with surprises, I remember so very much and cherish that I have those memories.
Now that I find myself a parent, I want to create traditions and holiday moments for Cole, so he too will be able to "remember" some day as I do about my childhood Christmas' holidays. I look forward to the years ahead when Cole becomes caught up in the magic and the wonder of Christmas and creates recollections of his very own.
I have a multitude of notable Christmas memories, here are some to share:
I remember Dad stringing the lights on our trees, I remember Abby our cat mingling around and spending most of the month of December underneath it, I remember visits to Santa at LuLu Country Club, I remember Mom baking dozens of butter cookies using the pastry bag and creating gingerbread houses, I remember getting dressed up and going to NYC on the train for the day when Dad worked there for his company's family holiday party, I remember lighting candles ever so carefully during Xmas Eve church service, I remember goodies placed on the hearth and notes written to Santa (and the crumbs and soot left behind by him the next morning), I remember the feeling of anticipation that my sister and I had as we scurried to bed so excited about Santa coming while we slept, I remember squinting at the bright lights of the video camera as Dad captured us running down the stairs at some ungodly early hour on Christmas Mornings, I remember kitchen sets and doll houses and bikes, I remember stockings brimming over with surprises, I remember so very much and cherish that I have those memories.
Now that I find myself a parent, I want to create traditions and holiday moments for Cole, so he too will be able to "remember" some day as I do about my childhood Christmas' holidays. I look forward to the years ahead when Cole becomes caught up in the magic and the wonder of Christmas and creates recollections of his very own.
Monday, December 17, 2007
My patience pass must have expired...
I do not want anyone who checks in on my blog to think I only write about the positive, uplifting and cheery aspects of being a mommy. Tonight, I sit down to craft a post after almost two weeks of not having a spare ounce of energy left at the end of my days.
Cole has decided that he loves me soooooooo much that he cannot be out of my line of sight. This means that he has become a newly attached appendage to my already weary frame. We are experiencing separation anxiety at its finest (which is an oxymoron of grand proportions). I have read and researched all about this phase and now bear the knowledge that the more secure an emotional bond he has to me the worse this anxiety can become. It is not because he is not exposed to others as I have made it an almost daily ritual to be around other babies, moms, his swim instructor, our mommy and me class moderator, all of whom he sees and is held by every week and I have our babysitter Brodie every Monday afternoon so I can disappear for a few hours. No, it is because my little guy is very smart and is learning object permanence which is that when I am out of sight, I still exist. However, he has yet to grasp the concept of time, thus if I leave his field of vision to grab something out of the refrigerator, he does not know that I will be right back.
All the experts say it shows that a healthy bond has developed and that in time, most babies who have separation anxiety actually become more independent than those who do not. To me though, it is like reliving his colic stage all over again. I say that because his behavior is inconsistent and unpredictable which makes planning a day very difficult. We can have a totally great day with no episodes OR a day where I literally carry him around for hours on end or listen to him scream when I put him down. It is taxing and on those days, I am running on adrenaline. When Cole had colic his first four months of life, I was given some miraculous dose of patience as I typically am not a very patient individual. It was a surprise to me but a very thankful one to get me through those 16 weeks. Now I feel the situation is similar but my patience reserves no longer exist. I am finding myself agitated and frustrated beyond belief. When he was an infant, I could put him down and he was not able to crawl or walk as he does now.
The sheer panic in his eyes is enough to melt my heart every time but the sheer amount of energy it takes to quiet that panic on a bad day is overwhelming. I know this will pass and I take solace in the fact that he has become very much the snuggle buddy but sometimes I just need a bit of personal space which is something you cannot explain to a one year old. Becoming a mom means making sacrifices so I grit my teeth and shed a few tears and just remember to be thankful that my little boy loves me so much!
Cole has decided that he loves me soooooooo much that he cannot be out of my line of sight. This means that he has become a newly attached appendage to my already weary frame. We are experiencing separation anxiety at its finest (which is an oxymoron of grand proportions). I have read and researched all about this phase and now bear the knowledge that the more secure an emotional bond he has to me the worse this anxiety can become. It is not because he is not exposed to others as I have made it an almost daily ritual to be around other babies, moms, his swim instructor, our mommy and me class moderator, all of whom he sees and is held by every week and I have our babysitter Brodie every Monday afternoon so I can disappear for a few hours. No, it is because my little guy is very smart and is learning object permanence which is that when I am out of sight, I still exist. However, he has yet to grasp the concept of time, thus if I leave his field of vision to grab something out of the refrigerator, he does not know that I will be right back.
All the experts say it shows that a healthy bond has developed and that in time, most babies who have separation anxiety actually become more independent than those who do not. To me though, it is like reliving his colic stage all over again. I say that because his behavior is inconsistent and unpredictable which makes planning a day very difficult. We can have a totally great day with no episodes OR a day where I literally carry him around for hours on end or listen to him scream when I put him down. It is taxing and on those days, I am running on adrenaline. When Cole had colic his first four months of life, I was given some miraculous dose of patience as I typically am not a very patient individual. It was a surprise to me but a very thankful one to get me through those 16 weeks. Now I feel the situation is similar but my patience reserves no longer exist. I am finding myself agitated and frustrated beyond belief. When he was an infant, I could put him down and he was not able to crawl or walk as he does now.
The sheer panic in his eyes is enough to melt my heart every time but the sheer amount of energy it takes to quiet that panic on a bad day is overwhelming. I know this will pass and I take solace in the fact that he has become very much the snuggle buddy but sometimes I just need a bit of personal space which is something you cannot explain to a one year old. Becoming a mom means making sacrifices so I grit my teeth and shed a few tears and just remember to be thankful that my little boy loves me so much!
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Where do I begin?
Here I am on the eve of Cole's first birthday. This past week leading up to tomorrow has be an emotional one for me which I had not anticipated. I knew that this milestone would be an important event, thus so for so many reasons but the feelings that have welled up inside me have surprised me nonetheless.
I have been reading entries from the journal I have kept this year documenting the journey of becoming a parent and mom. I am so thankful that I have been dedicated to keeping my thoughts and memories as they occurred because my mind has somehow already diluted them. I assume the past fades to allow room for the future. Regardless, to read how I felt at various points throughout Cole's first year brought a rush of nostalgia. How is it possible that twelve months have passed since I labored and delivered our son? I do remember so keenly on this exact evening last December as the excitement grew (despite the pain and the unexpectedness of my emergency C-section) as Dave and I anxiously waited to find out what the gender would be of our baby. I had felt from the very day I found out we were pregnant that a little fellow was our destiny but until I heard the words "it's a boy", I could not 100% trust my intuition.
To define the past twelve months would be impossible. There truly are no words or sentiments to sum up what it feels like to welcome a baby into the world and watch it grow and change before your eyes. I have never experienced so many challenges, joys, frustrations or awe inducing moments as I have this past year. Cole has brought to my life a depth and dimension that only can be described as inspiring.
Despite fumbling at times as I navigate motherhood, I am proud, so proud of how I have managed the twists and turns, the curves and jumps, and the peaks and the valleys of Cole's first year. The myriad and dynamic changes to my life has brought me to a new high. The realization that everyday is a new day has taken on greater meaning for me as Cole shares his perspective on the world. It is so easy to take for granted minutes and hours as we as adults become numb and jaded over time. The sheer innocence of an infant came wipe that slate clean and bring a renewed sense of priorities and vision. I am so grateful for the lessons he continues to teach me.
I know he will not have a recollection of his first year but I will never forget it. Happy First Birthday Cole Roger Denham. I love you with all that I am. Thank you for making me a mom.
I have been reading entries from the journal I have kept this year documenting the journey of becoming a parent and mom. I am so thankful that I have been dedicated to keeping my thoughts and memories as they occurred because my mind has somehow already diluted them. I assume the past fades to allow room for the future. Regardless, to read how I felt at various points throughout Cole's first year brought a rush of nostalgia. How is it possible that twelve months have passed since I labored and delivered our son? I do remember so keenly on this exact evening last December as the excitement grew (despite the pain and the unexpectedness of my emergency C-section) as Dave and I anxiously waited to find out what the gender would be of our baby. I had felt from the very day I found out we were pregnant that a little fellow was our destiny but until I heard the words "it's a boy", I could not 100% trust my intuition.
To define the past twelve months would be impossible. There truly are no words or sentiments to sum up what it feels like to welcome a baby into the world and watch it grow and change before your eyes. I have never experienced so many challenges, joys, frustrations or awe inducing moments as I have this past year. Cole has brought to my life a depth and dimension that only can be described as inspiring.
Despite fumbling at times as I navigate motherhood, I am proud, so proud of how I have managed the twists and turns, the curves and jumps, and the peaks and the valleys of Cole's first year. The myriad and dynamic changes to my life has brought me to a new high. The realization that everyday is a new day has taken on greater meaning for me as Cole shares his perspective on the world. It is so easy to take for granted minutes and hours as we as adults become numb and jaded over time. The sheer innocence of an infant came wipe that slate clean and bring a renewed sense of priorities and vision. I am so grateful for the lessons he continues to teach me.
I know he will not have a recollection of his first year but I will never forget it. Happy First Birthday Cole Roger Denham. I love you with all that I am. Thank you for making me a mom.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
The ONE and ONLY Cole...
There are so many things that make Cole Roger Denham the ONE and ONLY Cole Roger Denham. As we approach his first birthday which is next week (HOLY COW!!), here are just a few of my favorite traits about him.
#1 His toothy million dollar smile
#2 The way he looks over his shoulder as he scurries towards danger with the "catch me if you can" twinkle in his eye.
#3 His utter glee at watching Tucker do anything
#4 His love of looking out the front and back door with both hands pressed up against the glass
#5 The fact that he knows when I lower him from his highchair after dinner that it is bath time. He hears the running water and heads towards the bathroom as I attempt to get his messy clothes off.
#6 That very much like his mom, he is way cranky after a nap until fully awake.
#7 The manner in which he explores and plays independently all the while very aware of when I enter or leave the room.
#8 When the tension in his little body eases, his breathing deepens and serenity takes over his face as I hold and rock him in the quiet of his nursery
#9 The determination and intensity in his expressions as he perfects any new skill
#10 The infectious giggle he has when he finds something unexpectedly funny
#11 His ability to beam at me with his contagious smile as I attempt to dissuade him from any number of dangerous situations with a stern "NO"
#12 The fact that his tone and inflection as he babbles is so appropriate in context that I am just waiting for a full sentence to come tumbling out!
#13 The fearless wonder he exudes as he views life from his unfiltered vantage point.
#1 His toothy million dollar smile
#2 The way he looks over his shoulder as he scurries towards danger with the "catch me if you can" twinkle in his eye.
#3 His utter glee at watching Tucker do anything
#4 His love of looking out the front and back door with both hands pressed up against the glass
#5 The fact that he knows when I lower him from his highchair after dinner that it is bath time. He hears the running water and heads towards the bathroom as I attempt to get his messy clothes off.
#6 That very much like his mom, he is way cranky after a nap until fully awake.
#7 The manner in which he explores and plays independently all the while very aware of when I enter or leave the room.
#8 When the tension in his little body eases, his breathing deepens and serenity takes over his face as I hold and rock him in the quiet of his nursery
#9 The determination and intensity in his expressions as he perfects any new skill
#10 The infectious giggle he has when he finds something unexpectedly funny
#11 His ability to beam at me with his contagious smile as I attempt to dissuade him from any number of dangerous situations with a stern "NO"
#12 The fact that his tone and inflection as he babbles is so appropriate in context that I am just waiting for a full sentence to come tumbling out!
#13 The fearless wonder he exudes as he views life from his unfiltered vantage point.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
So much to be thankful for...
It would be obvious to say that I have lots to be thankful for this Thanksgiving 2007. This evening I found myself giving thanks surrounded by my loving husband, my fabulous friends and my son. It certainly should not take a holiday for one to take pause and reflect on all that is good in one's life but it was a reminder nonetheless to do exactly that.
I truly appreciate my wonderful reality, becoming a parent this past year brings into perspective what I am grateful for in a more authentic way than I have ever previously determined.
I acknowledge how lucky I am to walk this maze of motherhood and I cannot express my gratitude enough that I have been given this path to travel. It is my hope to not let another year go by without respecting more often all that I have been blessed with.
I truly appreciate my wonderful reality, becoming a parent this past year brings into perspective what I am grateful for in a more authentic way than I have ever previously determined.
I acknowledge how lucky I am to walk this maze of motherhood and I cannot express my gratitude enough that I have been given this path to travel. It is my hope to not let another year go by without respecting more often all that I have been blessed with.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
The Cost of Raising a Child...
It has been a rough past week so I have not had any time to write but wanted to put this poem/saying up as it is very true and especially a great reminder to oneself when your having a difficult time of it with your wee one! All the crazy days are definitely worth it!
The Cost of Raising a Child
Giggles under the covers every night.
More love than your heart can hold.
Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.
Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies.
A hand to hold, usually covered with jam.
A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites, building sand castles, and skipping down the sidewalk in the pouring rain.
Someone to laugh yourself silly with no matter what the boss said or how your stocks performed that day.
You get to finger-paint, carve pumpkins, bob for apples, play hide-and-seek, catch lightning bugs, and never stop believing in Santa Claus.
You have an excuse to keep reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh, watching Saturday morning cartoons, going to DisneyLand, and wishing on stars.
You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's Day.
You get to be a hero just for retrieving a frisbee off the garage roof, taking the training wheels off the bike, removing a splinter, filling a wading pool, coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.
You get a front row seat to history to witness the first step, first word, first bra, first date, and first time behind the wheel. You get to be immortal.
You get another branch added to your family tree, and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary called grandchildren.
You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal justice, communications, and human sexuality that no college can match.
In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there with God.
You have all the power to heal a booboo, scare away the monsters under the bed, patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them forever, and love them without limits, so one day they will, like you, love without counting the cost.
The Cost of Raising a Child
Giggles under the covers every night.
More love than your heart can hold.
Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.
Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies.
A hand to hold, usually covered with jam.
A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites, building sand castles, and skipping down the sidewalk in the pouring rain.
Someone to laugh yourself silly with no matter what the boss said or how your stocks performed that day.
You get to finger-paint, carve pumpkins, bob for apples, play hide-and-seek, catch lightning bugs, and never stop believing in Santa Claus.
You have an excuse to keep reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh, watching Saturday morning cartoons, going to DisneyLand, and wishing on stars.
You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's Day.
You get to be a hero just for retrieving a frisbee off the garage roof, taking the training wheels off the bike, removing a splinter, filling a wading pool, coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.
You get a front row seat to history to witness the first step, first word, first bra, first date, and first time behind the wheel. You get to be immortal.
You get another branch added to your family tree, and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary called grandchildren.
You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal justice, communications, and human sexuality that no college can match.
In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there with God.
You have all the power to heal a booboo, scare away the monsters under the bed, patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them forever, and love them without limits, so one day they will, like you, love without counting the cost.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
High in the sky...
Many of you have thought that our recent road trips to and from faraway locales was quite bold with a wee one in our midst. As I have blogged previously, we have enjoyed those sojourns, they have just required a bit of a different approach in their execution. A change in routine is good for all involved.
However, we just returned from flying the friendly skies for a wedding in Phoenix and a visit with Dave's family and it would be an understatement in saying that a plane trip with our lil guy was an exercise in patience (and deep cleansing breathes). Cole strapped in his car seat in the Volvo has no real option as to where to unleash his monkey like abilities. In a plane despite the most limited of space and oblivious to the darting glances of his fellow passengers (who were undoubtedly praying that he was a well behaved baby), Cole wanted to be on the move, standing, laying sideways, in the aisle, on the floor and come hell or high water, he was not going to be kept in one place. I had my distraction bag of goodies which I had packed with military like precision. I had memorized by feel so that I could reach any object in a split second to avoid the potential for vocalization as the building tension in his body grew and he arched his back in frustration at being kept on our laps.
We managed with the help of some angel above to secure the entire row going both ways. I cannot state more strongly how vital that was to keeping our sanity level below the boiling point. For the better part of three hours, Dave and I took turns attempting to engage, occupy, and entertain Cole to keep him from causing a melee. We were successful but it sapped every ounce of energy from us both. Each time we touched down on the runway, we were overcome with such a sense of relief.
Cole had his share of "cute as the dickens" moments as he waved to EVERY person who stood outside the lavatory (we were in the back row both times). He would get wide-eyed when the captain would come on and in his deep voice give us an update on our arrival status. He loved the blowing air vent above our seats and he enjoyed looking out the window. He would go back and forth from the two in our row like a spectator at a tennis match. I hung on to him as he darted between them and I hoped that this would last a WHOLE 5 minutes cutting into what time was left of our journey in the clouds.
I was able during one of my brief respites to watch him and I could literally "see" his little mind working, processing all the stimuli around him. It was during a realization like this that I found that looking at things from a child's viewpoint makes everything interesting. Using that logic I can better comprehend why he wants to explore, touch, sense and experience all that surrounds him. It helped me to take another deep cleansing breathe, take my son and find more things to help him learn about his world within the confines of an airplane seat!
However, we just returned from flying the friendly skies for a wedding in Phoenix and a visit with Dave's family and it would be an understatement in saying that a plane trip with our lil guy was an exercise in patience (and deep cleansing breathes). Cole strapped in his car seat in the Volvo has no real option as to where to unleash his monkey like abilities. In a plane despite the most limited of space and oblivious to the darting glances of his fellow passengers (who were undoubtedly praying that he was a well behaved baby), Cole wanted to be on the move, standing, laying sideways, in the aisle, on the floor and come hell or high water, he was not going to be kept in one place. I had my distraction bag of goodies which I had packed with military like precision. I had memorized by feel so that I could reach any object in a split second to avoid the potential for vocalization as the building tension in his body grew and he arched his back in frustration at being kept on our laps.
We managed with the help of some angel above to secure the entire row going both ways. I cannot state more strongly how vital that was to keeping our sanity level below the boiling point. For the better part of three hours, Dave and I took turns attempting to engage, occupy, and entertain Cole to keep him from causing a melee. We were successful but it sapped every ounce of energy from us both. Each time we touched down on the runway, we were overcome with such a sense of relief.
Cole had his share of "cute as the dickens" moments as he waved to EVERY person who stood outside the lavatory (we were in the back row both times). He would get wide-eyed when the captain would come on and in his deep voice give us an update on our arrival status. He loved the blowing air vent above our seats and he enjoyed looking out the window. He would go back and forth from the two in our row like a spectator at a tennis match. I hung on to him as he darted between them and I hoped that this would last a WHOLE 5 minutes cutting into what time was left of our journey in the clouds.
I was able during one of my brief respites to watch him and I could literally "see" his little mind working, processing all the stimuli around him. It was during a realization like this that I found that looking at things from a child's viewpoint makes everything interesting. Using that logic I can better comprehend why he wants to explore, touch, sense and experience all that surrounds him. It helped me to take another deep cleansing breathe, take my son and find more things to help him learn about his world within the confines of an airplane seat!
Monday, November 5, 2007
Our future Olympian?
I think we may have contributed our DNA to a potential candidate for the 2028 games!
Cole has the energy of ten babies rolled into his tiny body. He is tall, strong and skinny. He is commonly mistaken for a baby much older than his age simply because he acts that way.
Cole "trains" like a world class athlete, he chows at every meal then burns off each and every calorie in his quest to explore the world and everything in it by being in perpetual motion ALL DAY LONG. He takes a good snooze after breakfast and then it literally is OFF TO THE RACES. After a particularly stimulating midday workout, a catnap can occur but it is the rare nature of this event that keeps this mom assuming and planning for the alternative.
He is a sight to behold as he begins his day with a spirited gymnastics routine in our bed at 5am. We frequently have the thought "will we ever NOT see 5:00 a.m. on a clock again"?
We laugh as he flies around the house on his bionic knees in a manic rush for some destination (normally somewhere or something dangerous). We realize we should relish in the fact that he has yet to walk but fear that he will just skip that inconvenient and tedious skill and advance to running at full tilt instead.
Cole has the stamina and determination at this young age that I never thought a wee one could possess. If it is at all an indication of his future, then all things are possible.
It will be interesting to see if his endurance continues and he becomes a marathoner through his toddler years. I guess I should eat my Wheaties, put on my running shoes and be prepared for anything!
Cole has the energy of ten babies rolled into his tiny body. He is tall, strong and skinny. He is commonly mistaken for a baby much older than his age simply because he acts that way.
Cole "trains" like a world class athlete, he chows at every meal then burns off each and every calorie in his quest to explore the world and everything in it by being in perpetual motion ALL DAY LONG. He takes a good snooze after breakfast and then it literally is OFF TO THE RACES. After a particularly stimulating midday workout, a catnap can occur but it is the rare nature of this event that keeps this mom assuming and planning for the alternative.
He is a sight to behold as he begins his day with a spirited gymnastics routine in our bed at 5am. We frequently have the thought "will we ever NOT see 5:00 a.m. on a clock again"?
We laugh as he flies around the house on his bionic knees in a manic rush for some destination (normally somewhere or something dangerous). We realize we should relish in the fact that he has yet to walk but fear that he will just skip that inconvenient and tedious skill and advance to running at full tilt instead.
Cole has the stamina and determination at this young age that I never thought a wee one could possess. If it is at all an indication of his future, then all things are possible.
It will be interesting to see if his endurance continues and he becomes a marathoner through his toddler years. I guess I should eat my Wheaties, put on my running shoes and be prepared for anything!
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Cole as living art...
We all can agree that babies are miracles, that their presence in our lives create a magic that takes our breathe away. It is in those moments where I gasp that I find myself marveling at Cole's existence. I find him enchanting as he captivates me with his emerging personality. He is very much his own person and I find that fascinating in a way I never expected.
Cole is independent and lets me know when he would prefer to play solo rather than have me entertaining him with my silly ways. However, he likes to know I am there in the room as a presence and it is during those times that I sit back and watch him with a pride only a mother experiences.
I take these moments to observe every little nuance about him as I know they are fleeting and as time moves forward, they will NEVER be repeated and thus become only a memory in my mind.
Watching Cole is viewing living art. His little hands and fingers grasp his toys with fervor, his feet curl strongly underneath him, each little toe waiting to spring into action and propel him across a room with the fastest crawl this side of the Mississippi. His brow furrows intensely as he teaches himself how to direct a truck's wheels or open a book. He glances up at me occasionally to let me know he knows I am there and shoots me his million dollar smile. He returns to his play and I look on as he continues to explore his world and expand mine.
Cole is independent and lets me know when he would prefer to play solo rather than have me entertaining him with my silly ways. However, he likes to know I am there in the room as a presence and it is during those times that I sit back and watch him with a pride only a mother experiences.
I take these moments to observe every little nuance about him as I know they are fleeting and as time moves forward, they will NEVER be repeated and thus become only a memory in my mind.
Watching Cole is viewing living art. His little hands and fingers grasp his toys with fervor, his feet curl strongly underneath him, each little toe waiting to spring into action and propel him across a room with the fastest crawl this side of the Mississippi. His brow furrows intensely as he teaches himself how to direct a truck's wheels or open a book. He glances up at me occasionally to let me know he knows I am there and shoots me his million dollar smile. He returns to his play and I look on as he continues to explore his world and expand mine.
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