Sigh...

There are many things that Jacob excels at. He's very good at sports. He can remember minute details at the most random times. He's a relatively good sleeper. He can eat certain foods (pizza, cereal, snacks) like a vacuum. Unfortunately, he also happens to excel at ignoring instructions and ruining fun activities. His Jekyll & Hyde tendencies were definitely on display this weekend, and it made what should have been a fun weekend rather frustrating. Craig was on the road, and considering our upcoming weekends and the placement of Easter this year, this seemed like a good time to visit my parents. We hadn't been up in a while, not since early March as I recall. As usual we headed up Friday night. We got out early enough that I figured I'd let Jacob watch a movie and he could fall asleep once we got there, relatively close to his normal bedtime. That plan went swimmingly until we were about five minutes from my parents' house and he fell asleep. I did manage to get him into the house, into his pajamas and into bed without a full wake-up. He did rouse a bit but seemed a little dopey still, so I figured he'd drop right back off. No such luck. I think he was awake until after 10:30, and then woke up at 6am!! He never does that at home, even with the earliest of bedtimes. I knew right then that it might be a rough couple days. I let him snuggle with me a bit and eventually he did fall back to sleep for a little while. The morning wasn't horrible, but then again, we didn't do much. I actually went out for a half-hour run (about 2.75 miles, I think) since the weather was so pleasant. Things got a little challenging near the end of lunch, and his nap was much anticipated. But despite well over two hours of sleep, he woke up difficult. Not a good sign. On the agenda for the afternoon was golf. First we went outside for the first crack at real golf with the clubs my parents got him for Christmas. He did surprisingly well, all things considered. We figure he could do it all day if given the chance. I'll post some videos tomorrow. Here's a preview...He's been studying golf swings via the videos of my parents checking their swings, which my dad keeps on his iPad. He always asks to watch them. He generally made good contact with the ball and even managed to hit a couple good ones. He did really well when they tried again on Sunday. Interesting, if nothing else. Next on the agenda was mini-golf. Jacob has been begging to go all winter, and actually pretty much since last summer when we took him. We drive by a course every day on our way to daycare, so it's tough to forget about it. Alas, Western New York weather isn't particularly conducive to mini-golf in the winter, so we had no choice but to wait. Still, I figured there had to be indoor courses around somewhere. I finally found one just a few minutes from my parents, in their local golf dome. I thought it might be a good reward for Jacob filling in the potty section of his potty chart. It took over two months, but it was a lot of squares and he's not home a lot, so I don't know how successful that is. Not very, I suppose, since we'd ideally hope for at least a couple pees each day and there were only 29 spots on the chart. Still, he did it, so off we went.

Looks sort of lush and tropical, doesn't it? It was a pleasant atmosphere, almost to the point where you could fool yourself that it was a cloudy day somewhere nicer. The driving range was nearby (white structure to the left of the picture), and Jacob probably could have watched the golfers all day. At first mini-golf was sort of cute. He putted pretty well but he kept picking up his ball and putting again. I noted that it was an improvement from the last time we went, when he'd putt once, pick up his ball, and drop it in the hole. At least he understood that you need to put it into the hole this time. But eventually it got to be difficult. He never wanted to move on to the next hole, he was dragging his putter, throwing his ball, and getting into the real sand traps on each hole. And no matter what we did, he wouldn't listen. It got old very fast and it was a very long course. Normally that's a good thing, but not in that scenario. On the bright side, he didn't try to throw anything into the various koi ponds throughout the course. I thought that would have been his first target. It was pretty painful in general, regardless, and we were all relieved when it was over. Here are a couple shots--one of his hockey-esque stance that we're trying to get him out of the habit of... And another of him looking like an old pro... And one of him checking out the fish and simultaneously ignoring my request to turn and smile for a picture... The rest of the weekend things were back and forth, from good moments to bad moments. We ate a couple meals, went to church, and saw my grandma...all with pretty mixed success. He had good moments and bad moments, and I'm still convinced that he's just hyper-sensitive to changes in his sleeping patterns. I'm not sure what that means for future weekends. Do we leave first thing Saturday and miss a few good hours? Do I force myself to pack every single thing possible Thursday night so we can leave super early on Friday after work? I always try that latter option but it just never seems to work, as we have too many things that we use on Friday morning. So frustrating!

It just kills me that we try to do fun things with Jacob and his inability to listen and obey just ruins things. This isn't a new problem, as this was an issue at least as far back as last February when we took Jacob to the Strong National Museum of Play. That fun day was ruined by Jacob's difficult behavior as well. On one hand you wonder why we put ourselves through this torture. On the other hand, life will get awfully boring if all we do is sit around the house waiting for him to learn how to behave. I want to provide him with different experiences and encourage him to learn to be a good boy in those situations...because if he's a good boy, we'll be more willing to do more fun things. It's also very frustrating as a working parent to finally get a couple uninterrupted days with your child, only to spend most of the time yelling, disciplining, and obsessing over how to make it through an activity without a meltdown.

I keep hearing that three year olds are just as bad, if not worse, and it scares me a little. I keep hoping that one of these days he'll just all of a sudden understand empathy and logic, and even if we have to talk him through why his behavior is a problem, at least he'll get it once we do. But right now he just gets in these moods--often out of the blue--where he's got this mean streak. You can see it in his face and his behavior, and no matter what we do or say, it's not easy to get him to listen or obey or just be gentle. Moments like that make me worry that there's something more at play. I wonder if he'll end up diagnosed with ADHD or something else, and these are warning signs despite the fact that he seems perfectly healthy to most casual observers. Some days it seems like this just can't be normal. I look up at the board at daycare and see so many other kids with five stickers, and wonder why, just this once, peer pressure can't do its thing. Why can't my child seem to understand that his behavior causes problems, and that all the stern warnings aren't something to laugh at? He can be so smart, so his lack of understanding is that much more confounding. I just keep repeating to myself, "Someday..."

Mom on the Run

Lately I've been doing a lot of running. I never in a million years would have thought I'd become a runner. I hated running as a kid, probably because I was so slow. I thought the kids who did the 220 and 440 at the annual track meet were amazing. In high school I dreaded the yearly physical fitness tests involving a mile run (or really, anything that involved running around the track). I just hated being one of the last girls out there. I haven't really ever considered myself to be much of an athlete, having never played a competitive sport. I was a cheerleader in grade school and did a couple years of acrobatics (gymnastics minus the big equipment--mostly tumbling and flexibility), but that was the extent of it. I started working out in college at the encouragement of a good friend of mine. I actually just sent him a thank you the other day, because if it wasn't for him, I'm not sure where I'd be right now. Knowing I had a gym membership waiting for me has always kept me coming back for more, even though at times it hasn't been consistent. Still, I'm grateful he got me started. I started on my current path just over six years ago, when I started going to a class at a gym I had a free membership to through my old job. A couple co-workers went, and although the class absolutely killed me every week, I kept coming back. Considering how sore I was, obviously something was working. Almost immediately I lost a bunch of weight and started to see some muscle definition again. The class was a strength training class, mostly weights and some active body stuff, but definitely not aerobics, which I am terrible at. I continued at that class up until about seven weeks before my due date. I did a lot of alternative exercises by the end to work around my limitations, but it was good to stay active. And thank goodness, because I needed whatever strength I had to get through the three hours of pushing I did when Jacob was born. When I came back to the gym after having Jacob, that class had ended and another one took its place. I found the new one to be considerably harder--more cardio, tougher instructors, different exercises--and at first I wasn't sure I could hack it. In fact, I dropped out of one instructor's class in the first five minutes and avoided the weeks he taught for another year or so. Still, slowly but surely I came back and started doing things I'd never done, running included. It all started out simply enough. We did intervals. Intervals are where you run at a high rate for a minute or two, then cool back down for a few minutes before picking it up again, and over and over. We'd do a handful over a 10-minute period, for example, and that made it seem doable. I didn't run a lot, but once in a while I'd challenge myself to run the tiny track at the gym. In May 2009 I ended up taking part in the Chase Corporate Challenge, a 3.5 mile race that my office (and many others) participated in. I figured I'd run what I could and walk the rest. Despite torrential downpours the whole time, I ran the whole thing. I didn't run fast and I was so annoyed by the extra 10 lbs. of wet clothes I was carting around, but I did it. I was shocked and excited...and terribly sore for days. But it showed me that I could do it, and it felt great. Even still, over the last couple years my running has been sporadic. I've duplicated my 3.5 mile run a few times since, but mostly I've done a mile here, two there, or lots of intervals. A few months ago I started working out a second time each week, this time with my cousin Lori. Usually we do some cardio, then some weights, and finish up with more cardio. I've gotten some running in there as well. I was really hoping that the extra workout would be what I needed to drop the extra 5-7 pounds I've been carrying around since I stopped nursing (well, I'm about 12 pounds heavier than I was when I stopped, but 5-7 more than my pre-baby weight), but no such luck. I switched up my breakfasts (I eat the recommended serving size of cereal now) and my lunches (I switched out yogurt for fruit and only eat a granola bar if I get hungry later in the afternoon), but even that hasn't worked. Sometimes I wonder if it's possible that I'm not losing weight because I'm not eating enough and my body's in starvation mode where it holds on to fat. I find that pretty doubtful, but part of me wonders if I should try adding in some "good stuff" like a glass of milk or some sort of healthy, natural snack and see if that seems to help. Better fuel, I suppose. Even if my body hasn't responded that much, it at least makes me respect it a little more. Sometimes I think I see some improvement (though my clothes tend to disagree), and at least I can say that I worked hard for it. In the last couple weeks I've run quite a bit. I did a couple crazy runs around the city as part of my Thursday class (with the same instructor whose class I quit!), plus one more crack at the 3.5 mile mark last week. The outdoor runs were pretty great, and it made me feel good that out of the three of us that attended this week's class, I was the one keeping up with the instructor. It's making me crave warmer weather in hopes that it inspires me to at least run around my neighborhood a bit. The funny thing is that I'm not sure I truly enjoy running, but I find it challenging and in the end it's such a great feeling. There really is a "runner's high", where all the adrenaline just picks you right up. I've felt awesome after all three big runs the last couple weeks, and that gets to be a little addictive. I still don't think I'll be going much farther than I do now, mainly because I just don't have time to pursue this in a big way, but if I can get to the point where a 5K is easy, that would be cool. So what does all this have to do with me as a parent? Well...it hit me yesterday that all of my hard work will probably just fade away the next time I get pregnant. While some running is apparently fine (one blogger I read did it into her second trimester), it still makes me nervous. Not so much about the baby itself, since it's pretty well cushioned in there, but more about jarring the placenta or getting my heart rate too high. So, once I get pregnant, running will quickly come off the list. And for the first time yesterday, I realized I will miss it. I'll miss that challenge, I'll miss the adrenaline rush, and no doubt I'll miss the energy I once had to do it...not to mention the burst of energy that comes from it. It will be incredibly hard to lose that hard-earned strength and endurance and to know the mountain I'll have to climb if I want to do it again. However, I've gone through the process before (albeit at a lower level) and I hope I can do it again...but I know it will be that much harder with two kids. I've heard the body doesn't snap back quite as easily the second time around, and time will be at that much more of a premium. Leaving Craig twice a week with two kids while I work out seems a little more complicated than with just one. There's a reason I only worked out once a week for 2-1/2 years...though it scares me to think about waiting that long again. It might end up being just a little too long. I fear getting too far gone and giving up. Of course, that's still a LONG way away and I shouldn't even begin to worry about that yet. But it sort of freaked me out when I realized I've gotten myself into a form of exercise that won't translate well into pregnancy and that all the hard work I'm doing now might not do me much good for very long, if all goes according to plan. Even still, I know I have to keep it up. I can't quit now, not until I have good reason. I need to keep going and see what's there. When I got pregnant last time, I was in as good a shape as I had ever been. I kept it up for 33 weeks and I'm sure it helped me survive a painful delivery and led me to a quicker recovery. So maybe now it's my time to get myself in the best possible shape again, even better than before, and give myself an even better chance to keep up with what my body will be doling out next time. I guess this is just another reason why I should be happy we're waiting an extra year for #2 (along with a difficult two year old, lots of transitions and a boatload of house projects). I'm getting the chance to explore something new, maybe something that will become even more important down the road. I need to embrace it, particularly if it'll make me a happier, better mother in the long run...no pun intended.

Tuesday Short(ish) Shots

- I spent much of the morning staring out my window at work. I could literally see Jacob's field trip destination from my desk, just a couple blocks over. His daycare has a membership at the Strong National Museum of Play, so they go there once in a while. Jacob gets excited when he sees the little white bus--fully equipped with carseats--sitting in the daycare parking lot. Usually it means a field trip isn't far off. Recently they had to replace the bus' battery, so this one was a bit delayed, but today was the day. Whenever Jacob noticed the bus, he'd tell me that he wanted me to come on the field trip with him. Cue the Mommy Guilt. But oh, how I'd like to. Based on previous experiences at the museum, the thought of chaperoning a trip there is a little stressful, but I have a feeling they must have a very controlled method that keeps the kids manageable. It's hard enough to not lose one or two kids when they're all you have, but dealing with ten? It's hard to imagine. The trips are always short as they need to get there at 10am and get back by lunchtime and naptime, but Jacob always seems to enjoy them. And I would love to watch him in action. I really should just duck out of work one of these times and make up the time later, though I do worry about how Jacob would react when he has to go back to daycare and I go back to work. But now that I have nearly four weeks of vacation, I really should just set aside a day or two for field trips.

- Yesterday I read the most heartbreaking article about a couple from Brooklyn who got diagnosed with advanced cancers nine days apart. They have an 18-month-old daughter. I can't even fathom. He's got stage 3 colorectal cancer and she's got stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. Her odds of surviving are around 10%, his around 60%. And they were diagnosed NINE DAYS apart. They're both exhausted from going through chemo right now, and I can't imagine the strain of worrying about their daughter's well-being, their spouse's health, and their own fight, all at the same time. There's a blog that they're doing to keep people updated, but I haven't started following it yet because I just don't know if I want to know. It's too hard to think about. It's certainly a reminder of how blessed we are, but considering I'm lucky enough to be able to make the choice whether to think about something like that or not (as obviously they can't), should I take advantage of that? I can't decide if that's selfish or self-preservation. Either way, it's an unthinkable situation.

- Yesterday I sent out a request on Facebook for recommendations on ear, nose & throat doctors. I finally called one to set up an appointment for the loss of smell and taste I've experienced over the past couple years. I don't think I realized how long it had been until I was reading back to some blog posts from two years ago and I was already having the problem then. I mentioned it in reference to not being able to smell Jacob's poopy diaper. Then last winter before the move we had a small gas leak when someone came to "fix" our furnace, and I couldn't smell that either. Then yesterday I really didn't enjoy the donut I ate because I could barely taste it, and for whatever reason, that was the last straw. I miss tasting my food, darn it. I think I'd eat less of it if I could actually have a satisfying taste experience the first time around. To be clear, it's not that I don't taste or smell anything. It's just very picky and I don't pick up subtle smells or tastes at all. It's sad. I'm hoping it can be fixed, because if nothing else, it's important to smell things to keep you and your family safe and happy, be it natural gas, smoke, or a poopy diaper. Of course, I couldn't get an appointment until May (I may try one other group to see if I can get in sooner), but at least I took the first step...finally. I don't know what I was waiting for, other than thinking the netipot or nose sprays or time would magically make it come back, or that I was too worried it might be permanent and didn't want to get the bad news. By most accounts it doesn't seem like it should be permanent (maybe just polyps or chronic inflammation), but it's high time I found out.

- As of tonight, Jacob has three of his hockey sticks back in his possession. That's the most he's had since he got them taken away a few weeks ago. He's had a few four-sticker days in the last week, and no disasters (one was close, though), so he's got three. A bad day (one sticker or a horrendous evening) subtracts one, and a return to overall bad behavior means they all go away again. We haven't had to resort to that yet. Three is good, as it means the good outweighs the bad.

- I finally got the faceoff picture from Saturday night's on-field fun to work. Here it is...and yes, he put the ball there himself, unprompted.

- Here's the video I promised of him scooping the ball, from a couple weekends ago. He's talented, that's for sure. When he meets people that know he likes sports, they'll be like, "Are you going to play lacrosse?" And while I know they probably mean competitive lacrosse, I can't help but think Jacob thinks he does play lacrosse. And he's pretty good at it. We'll see how he does when there are other kids around, though...in any sport.

On the Field

We had a good but generally low-key weekend. Jacob and I stayed home Friday night while Craig worked. He had an iffy day at daycare (only two stickers, though he did supposedly get four, not one, on Thursday. Craig might have looked at the board wrong), but it wasn't a bad night. Saturday was much the same...close to home, good day. Jacob and I went out for dinner and then headed to the Knighthawks game. Dinner took a lot of convincing, but not only did Jacob sit in the booth with me, but he also ate his entire taco. I think he's finally starting to believe us that he needs to eat his food so he can grow up and be a big hockey guy/lacrosse guy. He still doesn't have the patience to do it well, but he's learning, I think. We headed off to the lacrosse game and he was extra excited because I told him that if he had a good day and slept well (both the night before and that day's nap), we could stay after the game for when they open up the field for autographs. He's wanted to go on the field all season, but it's always SO late. But I figured we'd sacrifice one Sunday for one great experience for him. He managed to stay awake the whole game and patiently waited for the field to open and the crowd to clear out a bit. And once he hit that field, he didn't stop. I tried to snap some pictures but so many of them were blurry! I did manage to get a decent group, though. I wanted to include one more faceoff picture, but for some reason Blogger kept rotating it wrong. Odd. Maybe another day and another computer. But here's what I got...

And even though you don't see his great scooping abilities here--the ball we brought was too light and it kept popping back out of his stick, so by this point he'd given up--you'll get an idea of what he was like. And he did this for at least 20 minutes, maybe longer, nearly non-stop.

We had to leave the field kicking and screaming, but it was well after 10:30 and bed was calling. He told me in the car that he "had a lot of fun" and he's been talking about it ever since. He didn't even fall asleep on the way home. Late night, but he was so happy that it was worth it.

Sunday was pretty much a lost cause. Church was difficult as usual. The one out-of-the-ordinary moment was when we went up to communion. Jacob's walked up with us plenty of times, but only this week did he get up there and want some. He held out his hand, which elicited snickers from the people around us. Of course, I'm sure the snickers stopped when he started saying that he wanted some and then started screaming a bit. I scooped him up quickly and explained that he couldn't have it until he was a big boy. I'm still stumped about church. Do we stick it out until he's old enough for Sunday school this summer (I think), and then just send him there while we're at church? Do we give up now and send him to the nursery to save our sanity and spiritual experience? I worry about him thinking church is just about playing, or getting out of the habit of being expected to sit quietly. Not that he does ever sit quietly, but he knows he's supposed to. I need him to sit quietly sometimes no matter what (my parents' church, holiday weeks without Sunday school, etc.), so it's scary to let him get out of that habit. It's so hard.

After an early nap and despite some not-great moments, Sunday did improve a bit. Bedtime was still tough and dinner out was on the edge, but he did enjoy eating a ridiculous number of peanuts at Five Guys Burgers & Fries. Thank God that kid isn't allergic--for so many reasons--but he seriously loves peanuts and peanut butter so much. The protein's good for him, so I'm letting him have PB&J quite a bit when dinner's sort of informal. Throw in some healthy sides and anything's workable.

He had a good day today (four stickers), a good evening (Craig's annual Tip-a-Knighthawk event was tonight--Jacob ate TWO pieces of pizza and enjoyed the Eagle again), and a pleasant night (successful potty time, fun bath, and easy bedtime). I still don't know the key to his behavior, but I still think sleep is important, keeping him busy is essential, and trying to praise him for good big-boy behavior never hurts. He can be so great sometimes, so when things go well, it's a nice validation that we're doing something right. Stupid terrible twos. But with that, I'm all wiped out. Night :)

Up and Down

It's been a roller coaster week behavior-wise. It actually started out really well. I have no idea if it was the sticker chart at daycare, or just that Jacob literally seemed to be "getting it" more and more. He wasn't perfect, by any means, but he was pretty good most of the time and I was actually having fun with him, so that was a good sign. He had consistently gotten three or four stickers out of five at daycare all week, and even got the elusive Listening sticker the last couple days. That's huge. I made sure to tell him a bunch that I was proud of him and how happy it made me that he was listening and being a good boy. I told him how much fun I was having with him, and how his good behavior was the reason. On days when he got four stickers or got his listening sticker, he'd get a treat, usually a jellybean or two. Sounds small, but they're special and he really likes them so it seems to work. Perhaps that will be our next potty training tactic.

Even if it's been taking some effort to get him to eat his dinner, he's been eating it. And that brought another reward--either a cookie or M&M's. So much for all those experts that say not to use food as a reward. Oh well. As I mentioned, we have still been holding his hockey sticks for ransom. He got one back with his first four-sticker day, and despite a couple close calls, he managed to keep it all week. Until last night. More on that in a bit.

Having him behave so well brought such peace to my world. Less yelling, less fighting, and much more fun. It really made the week very pleasant. It was such a sharp contrast to how he was acting before that it made me wonder if it was caused by him being sick (he's had some sort of cold for a while...starting to think we should go to the doctor, though it's been better lately), or if he just started understanding that his behavior was a problem, or what. There's just no way to know. But I wasn't really questioning it...just enjoying it.


Well, then last night happened. As usual he was a little difficult at daycare pickup. He'd gotten four stickers so I said he could get another hockey stick back. He's been nearly obsessed with the book fair setup at daycare this week, and he's been asking for books. I'm planning on getting him at least one, and I said he could get another one if he got all five stickers. Well, first he wouldn't leave the table (or kept running back to it) when I was trying to get his boots and coat on, and then he kept looking at these darn books--there are two Spongebob Squarepants books about sports, one soccer and one baseball, that I am refusing to get him. Spongebob, or "Bob", as we call him, is a bit more mature of a character than I want for Jacob right now, sports or not.

Anyway, once we finally got out of daycare amidst much kicking and screaming (literally), we had to go to Wegmans. It all started out easy enough, but then he got going--kicking off his boots, taking off his socks, grabbing things from the shelves, yelling, hitting, trying to grab things out of the cart....all culminating in the piece de resistance, when he grabbed my stack of coupons from the ledge at the register and threw them. Seriously?! And to top it all off, because of that and trying to get his boots on, I missed that the checker didn't give me the full discount for a free coupon I had. Ugh!

So, long story short, he lost the hockey stick he was supposed to get back, as well as the one he's had all week. For the rest of the evening he generally got on my nerves. Lots of screaming (on both sides, actually), lots of issues at dinner (though, again, he ate most of his food), and staying awake in his bed until long after 10pm. Lately he's been wanting to go on the potty after bedtime, and that's a tough conundrum. I don't want to let him push off bedtime (I've nixed bedtime water all together), but I also don't want to squash any attempts to use the potty. He's ended up pooping in his diaper late at night or overnight a couple times this week, which worries me to no end since it sets the stage for poop painting when he gets bored. I was hoping we'd avoid that since he seemed to poop mostly during the day. I guess it's good that poopy diapers have been keeping him up, since it would seem to indicate that he doesn't like the feeling, but that hasn't really seemed to bother him much during the day. Sometimes I think potty training is never going to happen. We may have to ignore the fact that he poops in his diapers completely, because he currently seems to think it's funny to do that. Maybe that's our starting point for the jellybeans.

Tonight was more of the same. He only got one sticker at daycare, and although he was good with Craig at a public skate with the Amerks tonight, he was difficult for the rest of the evening. It's not even that he's directly bad...he just pushes buttons. He knows he's being mischievous, but instead of understanding that it makes us unhappy, he just keeps going. It's brutal. It's so frustrating that it's like night and day, and I just can't figure out what the difference is. Maybe it's a subtle build-up of sleep deprivation. Maybe he just fell back into old habits. Regardless of what it is, I guess I'll finally have to dig into that Supernanny book I got from the library. Maybe the weekend will be better.

A Year Later...For Real

Back in October I wrote a post entitled "The Move--A Year Later" that pondered all that had happened in the year since we had started our move process. The fall weather reminded me of those first couple ventures out to open houses, and I reminisced about the whirlwind process that we started on the second we found a house we liked--which, of course, was not the one we ended up with.

Well, fast forward five months and now we are officially one year after the move itself. Actually, it'll truly be a year at the end of the week. However, I can't help but think back and marvel that one year ago this week, I was frantically trying to get packed up. I can't even fathom how crazy things were, or where I found the time or the energy to get it all done. Though I suppose I never did really get it all done. I was still packing when the movers arrived and a lot of stuff just ended up getting thrown on the truck or packed up by one of our awesome helpers, or at worst tossed into a box at the end of the day during the final clean-up. I can still hardly believe we made it through, particularly considering Craig was working most of both Friday (the day we closed) and Saturday (the day we moved). It was nuts. That week was so emotional, so stressful, so crazy, and yet...so worth it. I certainly have no desire to move again anytime soon, and I truly hope we never have to. However, if I knew that our next home would be as great as our current one and we'd be moving into a better situation overall (better job, closer to family, even more space (which I don't think would be an issue unless we decided to go for three kids--yikes)), at least I'd have the knowledge that although the weeks surrounding it are near-torture, the end result is so great. That might ultimately get me through the next one...though I really, really have no desire or need to do it again.

I don't think I realized how much I disliked our old house until I discovered how much I love our new house. For every good thing about the old one, there were a handful of issues that bothered me. And while that may sound picky, it was just always something--the ugly kitchen, the squeaky floors, the torn up baseboard trim, the cramped storage, the purple bathroom upstairs, the 70s bathroom downstairs, the dirty workbench in the basement (which never did get cleaned), the chipping paint on the garage floor, the cracked patio, the lumpy yard with patchy grass, the massive amount of fall raking, the ugly shed, the cracked mortar on the foundation (not structural), the evil holly bushes, the worrisome aluminum wiring, the mice infestation, the insulation the mice destroyed (not only did we need to replace it, but we needed to add more), a looming roof job--the list could go on. So while I was grateful to have a house to call our own, there was always something I would turn around to and be bothered by--either knowing that it was going to be an issue or cost us money. Some were cosmetic, but some weren't. And those were the real problems. Those just stressed us out so frequently that eventually most parts of the house had turned into some sort of "sore spot". And quite frankly, that's sad. We could have continued to live there, but at what mental cost? That is such a first-world problem, I know, but I don't think I realized the toll it was taking until we moved. But at that moment, POOF! Gone. Yes, the added mortgage payment isn't exactly comforting, but knowing that we're in a house that doesn't have any pressing problems and can be our house, comfortably, for a long time, is so wonderful. Inevitably we would have been spending money on the old house that we wouldn't have gotten back and probably wasn't worth it in a house like that, based on the market around us. We did see a similar one near us sell for nearly $20,000 more, but it had an insane kitchen and a built-in pool with a gorgeous fenced yard. But besides that, the comparable homes have sold for similar. Any additional money was probably less than we would have spent to upgrade ours to whatever those houses had to offer. While we didn't make money on our house (and lost a bit if you consider the upgrades we did do--windows, air, front door, garage door), looking back I'm comfortable with the decision...mostly because I truly love our new house.

I walk into our house happy to be there. I joyfully do household tasks like loading the dishwasher because I'm happy to have one. I don't mind doing dishes by hand because I have so many less to do every time. I like cooking more because I have more space, I'm not battling crowded cabinets, and again, I don't have to do as many dishes. My kitchen is pretty and makes me happy, unlike the old one which made me cringe nearly every time I walked in. While I may grumble about doing some of the outdoor work in the summer, there's such a great payback in the form of gorgeous flowers and lush grass, unlike our old house. We have more storage than we need, a fourth room for our office and eventual guest bedroom, a second living space downstairs that will get more use in the years to come, a BLUE bathroom, and so much more. Our living room is huge and gives Jacob plenty of room to run. It's carpeted, which is great because Jacob's constant sporting pursuits would have left our old hardwoods a mess by now...not to mention his body parts.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again...so many things about this house turned out even better than I could have imagined. There were things I didn't know I wanted that our house has that have turned out to be perfect. I'm truly thankful every single day we live there. I like it that much. A year later, I'm excited, relieved, and happy. I look forward to many more years of memories here, and I hope to continue to make this house more our own in the years to come.

A year in, not much has changed. Decorations are up, closets and cabinets are full, but not much else has changed. We haven't really done anything to make it our own. Any wallpaper or flooring that was in place when we moved in, still is. We need to change out carpets in a couple rooms, and one of the big things on my to do list is to take down the wallpaper border in the empty bedroom, which will someday become Jacob's bedroom. I want to do it now, before I'm once again dealing with a border while pregnant. No thanks. I need to get our main carpet cleaned, and I want to get the fireplace checked and learn how to use it. I'd like to replace our storm door with a nicer, safer one down the road, and someday I'd love to look into replacing the paneling in our basement with drywall. I'd like to change out the dated blue sink in our bathroom since it's rusting out a bit. We might also need to paint Jacob's current room someday, if we find out future baby #2 is a boy (bye-bye, Knighthawks purple). We also need to spice up our room a bit, but isn't the master always the last to get the work? At least, that always seemed to be the case on Trading Spaces. But really, that's all cosmetic stuff...not a huge overhaul among them. Such a relief. And the best part? Nothing has to be done right now. We have years to do it, I hope.

I do have a list of organization projects I still need to undertake--things I wanted to do last summer and just never got around to. The garage needs an overhaul and we still have plenty of space in the basement for some of the stuff. There are little things here and there that need tweaking, but in looking back at last year's resolutions for moving into our new house, I think I've succeeding in finding better places for a lot of our stuff. And it's been fun to try.

A year later I am still in awe that we own this house and live here. It's a great place for Jacob to grow up, and will be a great place to bring a new baby home to some day. With the space we have, we'll have one less thing to worry about next time around. We made a great choice, I believe, and it's been one heck of a year. More than I can even describe, this is definitely our "home sweet home".

Dreaming of Stay-at-Home Mom-dom

It's been a nice weekend. Jacob's behavior varied, but I'd say it was better more than it was bad. He tends to have these manic moments--times where he seems fine, then suddenly goes wacky. He was pleasant at church today, then impossible. He ate his dinner amazingly well last night, then spent the rest of the meal making us crazy. It makes things tough to manage. Still, not too bad overall. It was great having Craig around all weekend, too.

Saturday morning proved why Jacob's behavior can be so maddening. He woke up early, around 7am. He kept himself occupied for a while, and shortly before 8am, we brought him into our bed. He only hung out there for a bit before sliding down and out. He went downstairs and played nicely until after 9am, while we caught up on some sleep--obviously with one ear open. But to know that he CAN play nicely like that for so long just proves that he knows what he's doing. So why is it that more than 20 minutes at church is so excruciating?

I spent a good chunk of Saturday afternoon alone at the mall. I hadn't been shopping alone in so long that it felt foreign to be at the mall without a stroller. I can also tell that it's been a while because shopping for myself is really hard. I don't even know what to try on anymore. Before I got pregnant I was trying not to buy much since I had no idea what would fit me afterward, and when I was pregnant my shopping was very focused on certain things. Post-pregnancy I just haven't shopped much. Periodically I'll have to find something--initially it was things to fit my nursing boobs and thinner lower body (the amazing upside of nursing weight loss), now it's things to work around my belly that won't go away--or sometimes I have a spare few minutes to browse clearance racks. But for the most part my hardcore shopping has been limited. As a result, I don't know what flatters my current body, nor do I know how to wear certain styles. Part of me wants to try leggings, but that would involve buying a bunch of longer items to wear with them, and I just don't have the time or patience to shop around for the right ones or the desire to spend the money on it all. But I feel like I'm slowly turning into one of those moms on "What Not to Wear"...baby steps right now, but I suppose they all had to start somewhere. I'm in a bit of a style rut, but totally confused about everything in the stores right now. Styles have just changed so much that I'm not sure where to begin. As a result, I ended up buying a bunch of stuff for Jacob--one Easter gift, a lacrosse t-shirt; one useful, cheap long-sleeved tee; two cool long sleeved tees on clearance, and two pairs of 3T jeans he can wear next fall. Everything was either on clearance, with a 30% discount, or paid for with store credit. Sweet. Once I was home I even managed to sort through his clothes. I packed away a bunch of too-small stuff, even from his summer clothes, and then organized his future clothes and pulled out stuff that should fit him this summer. And this morning, I even tried all of his dress pants on him and pulled out the ones that no longer fit. He is so skinny, but he's got big thighs...just like his daddy. (Craig said it himself, by the way.)

Today I had a day like I'd imagine stay-at-home mom life would be. Or at least, I brought out my domestic side a bit. We did church, lunch and nap, and while Jacob was sleeping I cooked up some chicken breasts, baked some cookies from Jacob's fundrasier cookie dough, and worked on beer bread, which I found a recipe for a couple weeks ago. I wanted to make homemade chicken pot pie tonight, and figured I'd make a full meal out of it--entree, bread and dessert. Also, Lori wanted to come over and take Jacob to the park, which he refused to do, so we ended up outside for a while. Craig and Lori played with Jacob and I worked on clearing out the dead stuff in our front flower beds. Wow, was there a lot of stuff. More to go in the back, though! I came back in, baked up the pot pie, and all four of us had a lovely dinner. It was nice to finally use my bread basket and serve up real food. The bread was ugly but surprisingly good. Oh, and while the cookies were sitting on the cooling rack, Lori noticed Jacob in the kitchen, where he snitched a bite of cookie! AND he put the cookie back! Who knew it started this early?

I know that this isn't exactly stay-at-home mom stuff, since I had one or two people helping with Jacob all weekend and I even had some free time. But I did like having some time to plan a nice dinner and take care of some house stuff--dishwashing, landscaping, laundry, organizing--and it felt good. It's amazing what happens when you physically stay in or near your house for the weekend. And ultimately, that's what I want--I want time to be home, time to get those little things done, and therefore have more time to spend with Jacob. I know the list would never really go away. It would most likely get broader, but I'd like to have a cleaner house, more sleep, better meals, and more time to think of creative things to do--both for me and with Jacob. That way we're not cramming a ton of stuff into the weekends and taking over Jacob's playtime. I'll dream.

In the meantime, I still have an adorable child...as evidenced by this picture:

And even better, an adorable little boy that now knows how to tell me he loves me, and does it voluntarily. Best. Thing. Ever.