More Things We've Been Up To

My family is trying like hell to make the most of these last days of summer. This past weekend, for instance, we picked up the Nugget after work and headed to Tremont for some outdoor fun. We ordered a pizza from Edison's and we devoured it while sitting outside and people-watching. We walked around the neighborhood and visited a couple of galleries. We played at the playground at Lincoln Park. We watched ballet dancers on the stage in the park, part of Tremont's Arts in August series. We stopped for cupcakes at a Cookie and a Cupcake and collapsed at the end of the night, exhausted. It was a perfect evening.

On Saturday, Aud and I had some alone time which we spent sailing and enjoying one another's company. The view was spectacular. Observe:

Of course, this was my favorite view:


Sunday was spent visiting with my family and trying to be helpful. Later, Aud and I joined forces in the kitchen to make a double batch of chili and tofu scramble, with the hopes that not having to cook this week will enable us to spend as much time out of doors as possible.

Barrett has also been experimenting in the kitchen.


And speaking of kitchens, Aud and I almost bought this:


I know, I know, we just bought a house less three years ago and, truth be told, my house is much prettier than this one. But we both knew that, should an amazing house on this side of this particular street go on the market, we would try to buy it. Why? Well, these houses are all on double lots. The backyards are enormous, nearly the size of the amazing yard at the house where I grew up. I wanted to give Barrett this yard, and what a yard it was! It was giant! There was a huge deck off of the back with a large eating area and a (ew) hot tub. There was a new, giant garage with yet another huge porch off of the back. There was a giant, two story playhouse next to an alarmingly large swing set. There was an entire paved basketball court in the way back, adjacent to a fire pit.

The house itself was smaller, though still charming. We were blown away, though, by the wide open floor plan, the mass amounts of (granite) counter space in the kitchen, the waterproofed and finished basement. The house wasn't perfect. The bedroom were smaller, and we would be giving up our large, finished attic, but that house was done. Our house needs a major kitchen remodel. It needs a new garage (ours is falling down). We need to waterproof the basement, regrade the foundation, and replace the drain tile before finishing the basement and renovating the sad, sad bathroom that is down there. We've also considered punching out the roof of the attic on the back of the house to build a master bathroom and some closets (and, should there be another Nugget, that would be one hell of a room for two boys to have as their own).

I found out about that house on a Wednesday when a friend (who lives three doors away from this house) texted me that a sign had just...that MORNING...been placed in the front yard. I called that morning and we saw the place Friday afternoon. Saturday, while I was on a very long bike ride (more on that in a sec), Aud went to the bank to secure financing. We received our preapproval immediately and managed to cobble together the down payment. We made an appointment to see the house again on Tuesday night with our families (as I was out of town all weekend and Monday after work the Nugget has a swim lesson).

...and wouldn't you know it. Tuesday morning I got a call that on Monday night, an offer had been made and the sellers had accepted.

DAGNABBIT!!!

We were heartbroken. It's taken a while to get over it, but now we both realize that, if we renovated our current home in the way that we'd envisioned when we purchased it, there's no way that stupid blue house could ever hold a candle to this one. So we're going to stick with it, and we're going to sink some money into it to make it fabulous. First up...the kitchen. Walls will be removed. Islands will be built. It's going to be amazing.

In the midst of that house drama was my Pedal to the Point weekend. The Pedal to the Point is a two-day, 150-mile bike ride to raise money for the MS Society. This was my third attempt to finish every last mile of that bike ride.

I first signed up for the ride in 2007, and I trained as much as I could while working part-time and taking classes for my Masters. I managed to ride the entire way from Berea to Sandusky, about 78 miles. It was an amazing experience. The weather took a turn for the worse on Day 2 of the ride and due to cold winds and very heavy rain, the course was closed. No 2-Day ride for me.

I tried again last year and signed up for the ride. I had a much more difficult time training with an infant to care for and a job to do, but I did my best. However, I still only managed to ride 68 of the 78 miles on Day 1 of the ride and I completely gave up on mile 30 on Day 2. I'd had enough.

Part of the difficulty of the ride had to do with my bike. I was riding a mountain bike. Sure, I'd changed the knobby tires out for smooth tires but, make no mistake, this was a freaking mountain bike. No matter how hard I worked on that thing, I could barely average more than 11 mph.

After last year's ride I committed that, no matter what, I would finish all 150 (156, really) miles of that ride. I registered early and stuck to my guns, even though I could not find a single friend interested in doing the ride this year. I worked out consistently all year, including attending spinning class (often twice weekly), running, and lifting. Heck, I even jumped rope (and really, any woman worried about the effects of gravity on their girlie bits should just leave the jump rope to the UFC fighters and just go for a bike ride...your ta tas will thank you. Ouch).

And while I trained on that stupid mountain bike all summer, sometimes while towing the Nugget in his Burley, I decided to make use of this fabulous (*cough*) lawyer income and do something really irresponsible. I bought a beautiful, light, fast, all carbon-fiber bike that makes me feel rather like a superhero with wheels. It is amazing. It also helped me realize that anyone attempting to ride 150 miles on a mountain bike is just plain crazy. And maybe a little bit dumb.

In any event, I finished the entire ride strong and fast. I made great time (getting there 2.5 hours earlier than I did the first year I rode). I had an incredible weekend. The ride is an emotional experience for me. I spend much of the time thinking about my Mom. I can't even imagine how hard it must have been to be a mother with MS, to have to miss out on so much of your kids' childhood. It breaks my heart. I'll do the ride every year. I don't do it as much to raise funds as much as I do it to remind myself that I'm strong, that I'm healthy, and that I should be thankful every single day that I have the life that I have. I don't ever want to take my health for granted.


In other news, there have also been cuddles...

And dinners consisting of nothing but sliced lemons and hot salsa (???)

Who is this kid?

Warm Fuzzies...and a Review of the Burley Encore

Recently, I was lucky enough to have one of those incredibly fortunate moments where I realized that my life is turning out to be the way that I'd always imagined that it could be. It all happened when I was looking at these:


That would be my husband's bike (front) and my bike (to the rear) towing a trailer filled with a picnic lunch, a diaper bag, and, if you can believe it, a pop-up tent for baby nappage. I was looking at this scene from the passenger deck of a ferry to Kelley's Island where I was off to spend a hot and sunny summer day with my family biking around the island, playing on the beach, hiking on the trails, picnicking in the park, and lounging in the shade.

I looked next to me at the Hubster who wear wearing a backpack full of toddler and I thought, "Damn."

I immediately though back to a hiking trip I took with my sisters in Acadia National Park in Maine. We'd just finished a rather grueling climb and were about to reach a gorgeous overlook when I saw this adorable family. The man was wearing his baby in a hiking pack and the woman led the way with their Golden Retriever and I remember thinking, "how the hell did they even get UP here" right before thinking, "I want my life to be like that."

Fast forward six years and here I am, standing next to a cute, toddler wearing guy, towing said toddler around on my bike, doing those things that I always assumed that the crunchy, fit, granola-eating family in Maine did on their weekends. Hell, I've even got the Subaru station wagon.

Since then, I've been attempting to do a better job at incorporating my bike riding into my every day life rather than making it such an "event" (as in: let's call of off work, ride our bikes 25 miles, take a 6 mile walk, and bike 25 miles home!). Bike riding has always been something I've planned to do, not something I've done to, say, run errands or get from point A to point B (not since I was a kid, anway). I figured, hell, I bought this $400 bicycle trailer, I live in the city and I don't need to drive anywhere, let's try this thing out on a regular Saturday morning!

So try it out I did, and I must say, this Burley Encore bicycle trailer kind of sucks.

See, I bought the trailer in March from a local bicycle shop, excited as all hell to spend my summer biking with the Nugget. Since then, the trailer has been nothing but a thorn in my side. After taking it to the bike shop and raising holy hell, they ordered some parts from Burley to "fix" the trailer, adjusted the fit of the trailer for my son, and made sure his helmet fit properly.

See, the bicycle shop refused the take the trailer back. Both the bicycle shop and Burley insisted that "nobody had ever made [my complaint] about this [piece of shit] trailer before." A cursory search of the internet proves otherwise, but let this string of photos make my case for me.

Here we are, at the beginning of our ride. Barrett is positioned in the middle of the two-child trailer (we bought the two-seater "just in case") as per the owners manual (which, by the way, the bicycle shop never gave us, or else I would have realized that I was missing so many parts). You'll notice that he began the ride with his Giro bicycle helmet on his little blonde head.


But look what happens only minutes into each ride. Barrett, though buckled in tightly, begins his long, slow slide to one side or the other of the trailer. What's worse, the "hammock" design of the trailer seat means that Barrett is in a reclined position. Because he wears a helmet, the hammock seat pushes his head forward in the seat, causing the helmet to block him from seeing anything, which results in him tugging on the helmet with all of his might to get the helmet out of his face. Observe:



This kid is so miserable that neither he or I can tolerate it much longer. I take off his helmet. Look at how this poor kid is sitting.

I decide, then, to try him seated to one side of the trailer, rather than right in the middle. I hoped that this would help him to sit up properly in his seat without falling to the side. Though the light in these pictures is awful, you can see that he looks to be sitting much more comfortably.



...but sure enough, I have to pull over three blocks over because the helmet is pushed over his face by the back of the trailer and he can't see. When he tries to push it back, the chin strap under his neck digs into his throat and pinches him. This poor kid is miserable.


Sure, you can fill a heck of a lot of goodies in the back... Here I've got a loaf of bread and hamburger buns from Breadsmith, Barrett's diaper bag, and hidden from view under the diaper bag, a large soft-sided cooler filled with cold groceries from Nature's Bin (organic grapes, tempeh, yogurt, and edamame) along with another bag of non-perishables (granola and puffed spelt).

And eventually, without his helmet, Barrett can relax enough to do this:


But really, this thing was so not worth $400. In order to have a happy, comfortable ride, Barrett has to ride without a helmet. I love to ride my bike, but not enough to risk my kid's life in order to do it.

We're going to try a toddler skate helmet. My sincere hope is that, given the helmet's different shape, it won't get pushed down over his eyes like this Giro bike helmet. If that doesn't work, I'm just not sure what my options are... Rickshaw, maybe?

Morning

Every morning, at around 6:30, the Nugget Must. Get. Out. Of. His. Crib. Immediately.

I enter his room, sleepy and bleary-eyed, and he proceeds to hand me each of his four bed fellows, one at a time. There's Winkolina (his bright green Uglydoll, picked out by Aud when Barrett was still just a belly lump). There's Giraffe (picked out by me the day of Barrett's first round of shots). There's Teddy (a gift from Aunt Misty and Uncle Tony, when we broke the news of Barrett's inevitability). There's Bunny (from his Aunties and the star of our "Little Bunny Foo Foo" dramatic sequences).

Then, of course, there's the Barrett. Needless to say, this makes for quite the armful as I feel my way carefully down the stairs, unable to see for sure whether or not I'm about to step on stair or beagle. If I make it down the stairs without falling and crushing a dog, a baby, or my face, we begin the morning diaper change. My success or failure at this endeavor is highly dependent on whether or not I'm able to keep Barrett, Bunny, Giraffe, Teddy, and Winkolina all on the changing table at the same time while dodging randomly striking limbs.

This is not an easy task.

Factor in the possibility of poo splatter, desperate to pee beagles, and the fact that I'm still not properly awake, and you'll understand why we're 50/50 on morning tantrums (that's a 50 per cent chance that I have a tantrum and a 50 per cent chance that Barrett has one).

I have yet to video tape the morning struggle, but I did manage to photograph a moment of peace on the changing table.


And yeah...motherhood is the shit.

Things We've Been Up To

[I used to (and still do) hate when married people or people in relationships would "we" all over the place. It always seemed as if, when entering a committed relationship, these people lost all sense of self. Joint email accounts would follow (Really?? I have to email both of you now? I can't just talk to my friend? Does said friend's husband *really* need to know that I don't feel like going out tonight because I have a UTI?) Then of course the joint blog written in first person plural. Gross. But today, I will "We." I'm gonna WE all over this here blog. No, there will be no joint email account. No joint blog. When I say "We" I may be talking about me and the Bear, me and the Hubs, me and the beagles, or any combination thereof. We We We We We, all the way home. So there.]

1. Learning how to drink through straws. With big, curly hair. Just like Mama.


2. Breakfasting at Latitude 41. Holy delicious french toast, Batman!


3. Re-learning how to roller skate on my brand new derby skates, and feeling a bit like a superhero when so doing [no photos, yet. It's best I focus entirely on not falling at this point in my derby life].

4. Spending vast, vast amounts of time working out. It is not unusual for me to have a 20+ mile bike day or a 9+ mile run or hike day. I'm leg pressing 180 pounds at a time now, and I'm working like hell on the unassisted pull-ups (though I'm still getting 100 pounds of assistance. Not sure an unassisted pull-up is in the cards this year).

5. Bustin' the sag.


6. Resting between belly flops.


7. Trying on giant running shoes.


8. Sailing and almost getting killed by whatever jerk-face happened to be driving the Good Time III on Wednesday night. Did Hazelwood find himself a job in Cleveland? If so, then please Captain Hazelwood, please try not to smash our sailboat between your giant clunker and the rocks while we try to rescue another sailboat with a poorly-timed motor break-down from crashing into said, rocks. Pretty please? [Again, no photos. I was too busy clinging onto one of Aud's coworkers, a coworker I barely know, and trying not to cry.]

9. Matching our eyes to our camping furniture.


10. Taking long walks around the hood.


11. Screaming for ice cream.


12. Working Hard (R) and Hardly Working (L). Don't get used to this, kid. Your Daddy already has one person sponging off of his retirement fund. He can't have another.


13. Walking in the woods.


14. A lot.


15. A ton, actually.


16. Making an Easter basket.


17. Finding an Easter basket.


18. Avoiding putting all of our eggs in one basket.


19. Finding new uses for old things.


20. Practicing bicycle safety.


21. Putting our helmets to the test...


22. ...while biking with funny faces.


23. Contemplating an old school river fording, a la Oregon Trail.


24. Enjoying picnics in the park.


25. Driving ambulances.


26. Bulldozing.

Spring...?

Oh, March. You continually mess with every mind in Northeastern Ohio. You wake us up to a foot of snow on Friday morning, blowing winds, white outs, and treacherous roads. Then you melt the snow the very next day, and we're left to wade through the sludge. Yet you predict 55 and sunny on St. Pat's day...as if the drunks in this town need you nudging them toward cirrhosis.

I'm so damn ready for spring.

My winter blues aside, this weekend was glorious. Friday night I headed out with my little fam for dinner at the yacht club. Yes, the food is terrible. Yes, I have no choice but to eat there at least once every month. But the view? It's not a terrible feast for the eyes, even if the feast for the belly is lacking.

Saturday after a very lazy day at home we dropped the Bear off to spend the night with his Aunties before heading to a party to say goodbye to a friend that is moving to San Francisco for school. It was a glorious evening. In the old days, I would have stayed until seven am and power napped before heading out for a greasy breakfast. Alas, I am a parent now, so I headed home at a much more respectable 4 AM.

Sunday morning I popped up at the decadent hour of 8:00 to pick up the Bear and spend some time with my family. I came home to the greasy breakfast I was longing for, took a nap with the Bear, and enjoyed the rest of the day at home reading books, playing the piano, and enjoying the rest of Family Sunday (formerly, "Lazy Sunday").

In other news, discovering that you are important to someone that you were never really sure that you mattered to...is that not the coolest thing ever?

Coming up this week: walks with dogs, vegan cabbage and noodles, and (gasp) SOCIALIZING. Perhaps I will even leave the house twice in one week. Shocker!

Two Entries in Two Days...Or Let Me Blow Your Mind

Today? Today was fantastic...

Despite my spending most of the night on the couch thanks to a pukey beagle that needed to be ushered outside at 1:30 in the morning to eat some grass, and despite the fact that I woke up feeling like someone had dropped an anvil on my head, I sort of loved today.

Nothing fantastic happened. Barrett and I had our usual cuddle/bottle/Timmy Time time first thing in the morning. We ate yummy oats with organic bananas and strawberries. We played and read books. The Bear napped while I worked. I managed to find a witness that corroborated my client's story on a case I'm working on, thus making it more and more likely that I win the case on summary judgment. After naps and lunch we headed to the bank to open Barrett his very first savings account. I decided to open my own as well, thanks to some family financial crises that are beyond worrisome and are making me feel that I need to save every dime I can Just In Case (dum dum duuummmmm). For dinner I whipped up a stir fry, borrowing heavily from the Brooklyn Pad Thai recipe in Vegan with a Vengeance. While I cooked, the Hubster played with the Bear while we talked about work. And now, as I head off to work, I can hear the strains of my sweet's guitar and a singing husband and a playing baby.

Life is good.

A Day in the Life

These last two months have been two of the blah-iest months that I can recall. The weather has been cold and miserable and, for most of these last two months, one or more of the people living in this house has had a cold (or the flu) and has been miserable (or miserable to be around). I’m often tempted to forbid the Hubster from leaving the house and bringing germs home, and I’m often tempted to never take the Bear to the daycare at the gym (when I can work out between plagues, that is), and to never go anywhere again not ever, ever again because ferfucksake…I’m tired of everyone being sick around here.

But yes…it’s almost over, and yes…I’m almost ready to come out of hibernation. I’m heartened by the fact that it was over forty degrees outside today, I’m less heartened by the fact that I still have a cold and every time I look out the window I am only able to appreciate the sunshine for 1.6 seconds before my eyes are drawn to the monkey-ball littered, dog poop-ridden, slush hole of a yard that I’m going to have to find the stomach to start cleaning up. Le sigh…

And…though things are going well otherwise, I’m one hell of a crabby bottoms.

Despite that, I really want to start blogging again, but I’m not digging this blog anymore. For one thing, I suspect people that I know in real life may have been reading this (Hi people I may know!). This is a problem for me on many levels, because it makes me much less honest and much less willing to discuss sensitive topics that I would otherwise love to rant and rave about.

I loved my old blog, but have slowly been removing entries in my spare (ha!) time. A few months ago, during one of my routine paranoid fits of googling all variations of my name, I discovered a link to my old blog. This was problematic. As an attorney, I don’t want potential clients, current clients, opposing counsel, judges, or jurors reading about my angst, circa 2002-2008. For another, I’ve been rereading these entries and holy hell are they massively disturbing. Massively. Disturbing. Let’s not forget Horribly Embarrassing (especially the early years). They are also, in some instances, strangely dishonest. I’m not sure who I was pretending to be, but there is a huge disconnect for me between the person I was then and the person I am now and…well…it’s better that those entries come down.

I am saving them for myself to look back on in the coming decades. Perhaps they’ll help me understand my children when they are in their twenties. Hopefully they won’t make me as heartbreakingly sad as my hand-written journals from 2000-2002. I’ve yet to get through a single one of those entries without breaking down. I can’t believe I let myself get to the place I was then. I can’t fathom letting anyone treat me so poorly and not standing up for myself. But that’s another story for another day.

So, right. Blogging. Not sure if I’m going to stay here or move on, but I’d really like to write more, I like the idea of writing on a public space, and since I’m so hesitant to write here, maybe I’ll start a fresh blog someplace.

One thing I loved about my old blog was the completely and utterly dull, navel-gazing nature of it. So many entries went something like, “Yesterday I worked on X at day job and then waited on a bunch of tools at the restaurant and then I went home and ate Y and watched Z and today I’m taking the day off to do this and that.” I like this because, looking back, I remember all sorts of things that I forgot about, and I want to continue to look back and remember. True, these entries cannot possibly be interesting to anyone other than me, but I’m ok with this.

So, in the spirit of blogging and navel-gazing and narcissism, here is What I Did Today:

The Bear slept in until 6:45 today, so I had the chance to loll in bed while the Hubster was in the shower and then nag him to shave his beard while he dressed for work since it’s March and it’s practically spring. Right? He declined. Rats.

Bear woke up and I went through the usual morning diaper change and bottle feeding. Yes, I still give the Bear a bottle. We tried switching him to a sippy cup for his milk after his first birthday and he was not having it. I must selfishly admit that I’m fine with him using a bottle for now because I’m not ready to give up that cuddle time with him yet. Barrett is now drinking unsweetened soy milk. I mention this because Bear’s diet is a sensitive issue. As a vegetarian with aspirations of veganism, I’m used to people feeling that it is appropriate to comment upon or question my diet. I was not prepared, however, for how often people question what I feed my child.

Here’s what. I feel that I’m pretty well read and well informed in matters of diet and nutrition. I have looked at the pro- and anti-soy research, and I have looked at the pro- and anti-cow’s milk research. I am confident that soy is the right choice for my son. I am confident that cow’s milk is not. I’m amazed by how many people, people that have done little to no reading into the issue, feel the need to give advice or an opinion on this one area of Bear’s diet. I realize that this is just the tip of the iceberg and that unsolicited parenting advice relating to just about everything will often come my way, but here’s what. I’m not going to give my child anything that is deleterious to his health. I’ve done the reading. Uninformed, unsolicited opinions are unwelcome. I’m having a hard time remaining polite about this one.

Anywho, Bear had his bottle and we watched Timmy Time (I know, I know, Disney is the devil, but Timmy Time rocks). Then, after a few minutes of Handy Manny, I was ravenous and needed to use the bathroom, so I took the squalling Bear into the kitchen with me to brew coffee, use the bathroom, and make our morning pot of oats.

Another side note, I’ve been making our oatmeal using the method described here. These fluffy, banana-ey oats are fan-friggin-tastic. I’m in love with them, Bear is in love with them, and I can hardly wait to crawl out of bed in the morning to eat these. I top Bear’s oats with almond, peanut, or sunflower seed butter and spreadable fruit, and I top mine with the same but I’ll add some crunchies, usually dry roasted peanuts and Trader Joe’s berry granola. Barrett drinks diluted fruit juice, I sip black coffee, we listen to music, and we enjoy our oats together. Our mornings are fantastic.

Though the two of us are still feeling a little under the weather, Barrett entertained himself contentedly in baby jail (our dining room, minus furniture, plus one giant baby gate paddock, filled with toys, books, and puzzles) while I washed the dishes and put away laundry. No, I cannot believe how domestic my life has become. When Barrett tired of playing on his own and I tired of racing around the house, we cuddled on the couch and coughed and sniffled and read books and watched daytime television. At around 10:30, Barrett had some more milk and went down for his nap. And I? Well, I did the same.

The kiddo woke up at one and we sat down for lunch. Barrett ate green patties (mashed beans, barley, spinach puree, and seasoned breadcrumbs) and sweet potato latkes with juice. I had a tortilla with PB&J because I had zero motivation to make anything with any nutritional value.

After lunch, we played and read some more books, waited for the cable guy to come and fix the internet, then headed out to run some errands. After I exchanged a scarf for a sweater and two pairs of sunglasses (how much did that scarf cost anyway?), donated some old clothes, and stopped at the grocery store for diapers and wipes (yeah, the cloth diapers didn’t make it past Barrett’s first birthday…those things just couldn’t pick up what he’s puttin’ down), we headed home to tend to the dogs and make dinner.

When the Hubster finally joined us I made a pizza with red peppers, sweet onions, and Trader Joe’s Soy Chorizo and spinach, romaine, and cucumber salads. Over dinner we talked about our days while we ate (Barrett had tofu and brown rice balls, green patties, and steamed carrots), then I went to chill with Barrett while the Hubster cleaned the kitchen. Finally, I kissed everyone goodbye and headed up to the office to get some work done. While I started researching for and writing yet another motion, I could hear the Hubster playing the guitar and singing to Bear before he took Bear upstairs and gave him a bath (singing the Sesame Street rubber ducky song) and then put him to bed.

This is just a usual day. A whole lot of time with my son, a little bit of time working, and a whole hell of a lot of happiness. I feel pretty damn lucky.