Can I Help You With Something?

Tania's been taking care of me for as long as I can remember. On more than one occasion, she's been my absolute saving grace. She let me sneak into her bed almost every night growing up, and in our late night conversations I learned all sorts of things. She helped me keep my sanity during my parents' divorce. She bought me SAT for Dummies and helped me prep for college applications. She sent me Smile Boxes (yellow, smiley face boxes full of chips, candy, and sodas...the perfect dorm room snacks) while I was homesick at school. She's introduced me to delicious new foods and ridiculously relaxing massages. She took me shopping for work clothes, helped outfit my new classroom, and insisted on adding to my pregnancy wardrobe - everybody needs maternity Citizens jeans, right?! She's helped me plan and budget. She's supported me in every next step - new jobs, new cities, new homes, new cars, marriage and our latest addition, sweet Charlie. It's no coincidence that she was the first one to the hospital or that she and her family stayed to help make sure John and I were properly settled in at home with Charlie before returning to Dallas. Whenever I'm certain I'm too weak, too afraid, too shy, she's right there to reassure me that I'm strong, smart and should be confident. She often knows exactly what I need before I've even realized it, and the plans for this weekend were no different.

As much as I know Tania wanted to see Charlie, I also know that a big part of coming down this past weekend was to check in on me, so we planned a weekend where we could have it all - Charlie time and a little time to ourselves. And with John on board, I started pumping my ass off in anticipation of my first full-night's sleep in almost three months.

Tania got down here Friday evening, played with Charlie, made us Brooksters (yes, they will change your life), and we talked, laughed and solved most of the world's problems. Saturday was no different except that after I fed Charlie in the late afternoon we headed downtown to the Four Season's to get ready for a delicious dinner and restful night. Some highlights - No-nonsense Tania got us upgraded to a suite with a view, I showered, took a bath and showered again all in less than a twenty-four hour period (magical), we ordered almost everything on Uchiko's menu and fell into a wonderful sushi coma, and at approx. 10 o'clock we stopped talking and slept soundly until 8:30. Oh my, ten hours of sleep felt reeeaaaallll good.

I feel rejuvenated. John got some one on one time with the Chuckster. And once again, Tania somehow found a way to, seemingly effortlessly, take care of everything. Reminding me that the very best thing you can offer someone is your time. Well, and a little extra sleep doesn't hurt.

Wanna Bet?

There have been four times in our almost thirteen years together that I've truly hated John Wahlers. 1) He took me on a date to see Devil's Rejects, the latest and greatest (according to him) Rob Zombie movie. When you know you're girlfriend's favorite movie is Tommy Boy and she scares easily, why oh why would you take her to see Devil's Rejects? Please don't give him the excuse, well maybe he didn't know...he'd gone with a friend before taking me. Hate. 2) We went mountain bike riding. I told him I was exhausted and wanted to go back to the car after an hour of riding. He continued to take me up and down ridiculous hills until I finally stopped my bike at the bottom of one, remained silent when he shouted back to me, and waited until he turned around. Don't try to trick me Wahlers. I know you're taking the long way back to the car. Hate. 3) The fateful leaning Tower of Pisa picture that we never got. You know the pic I'm talking about - people pose looking as if they're holding up the tower with their hand or their foot or their finger or their head. We day-tripped to Pisa on our honeymoon, and as other couples cracked up taking pics, I started to strike my pose. When John failed to give me some photographic direction, I told him to go first so I could get an idea of what to do. To which he disgustingly replied, uh...I'm not doing that. Like could you be more of an idiot? Hate. And number four was added on Saturday night at the Capt'n Karls Nighttime Trail Run.

When someone dares, wagers, bets me, I can almost never say no. Even when I know I probably can't, I feel the need to try. Bet you can't chug a two liter of orange soda? I puked in the courtyard trashcan. Bet you couldn't go two minutes in a boxing ring? I jumped up, hit the timer, and started boxing John in our living room - it didn't end well. Bet you can't finish that bag of gummie bears in two minutes? I puked in the grass at our family's Fourth of July celebration. To his brother's entertainment, John and I have spent countless hours with our hands in buckets of ice water, scrunched down in wall-sits, etc. to determine who was the winner of whatever said bet. And while John almost always wins, I still find it necessary to give it a go. This past Saturday was another example of my inability to say no, and John's ability to rile me up.

After weeks of come-on-you-can-run-a-ten-K's, I finally said yes. And while I haven't run six miles since way before I was pregnant, John assured me that of course I could do it, and yes, it would be hot, but the course was not hilly but "technical" with "lots of switchbacks". Instead of saying what does that even mean?! I just nodded along. And sure enough on race night at 7:30 in 98 degree weather, I took off for my six miles. Pure misery. It was not a hilly course but instead just one long hill that I steadily climbed for about an hour and a half. I gave up running a little over a mile in and while hate filled my heart, I continued to climb and climb and climb. The other, experienced runners, were barrelling past me, and since the trail is about 3 feet wide, I spent the majority of my time walking along the side of the trail through the cacti. Hate. But a good reminder that while we enjoy doing most things together it's good to have some things that are just for ourselves.

Wanna bet I won't be trail racing again any time soon?

A New Kind of Classroom

The decision to leave Westwood was not made lightly. John and I had discussed me staying home before Charlie was even in the picture. We both agreed that it was the ultimate goal, but we weren't sure how we could make it work. And when Charlie came quicker than we planned, we really weren't sure how it would all work out. We talked about ways we could be creative with our finances, looked into a few daycare options, cried a little (guess who that was?) and ultimately decided that we would continue to keep open minds and open hearts about our options next year, but if we needed me to go back to work, I would.

Admittedly, once Charlie was here, I was devastated by the idea of going back. I made plans to use my leftover six weeks of leave in the fall, knowing that it would be a rough way to start the year with the students but, also, realizing I'd want to hoard as much Charlie time as possible before I went back to the classroom. And then out of nowhere, a job opportunity opened up for John this summer, and he went for it with all his heart. To say he "went for it" probably isn't a fair description. My normally laid-back husband who generally allows things to play themselves out was aggressively making this job happen for him. For us. Because of his willingness to put himself out there, he made the dreams we have for our family a reality.

Sure we'll have to be creative and we'll have to make different choices, but I believe in choices. It's a choice that we live where we live, drive the cars that we drive and eat what we eat. When I listen to stories of my parents starting out they had a little house, one car, eating out was a treat, and they made our family work with extremely limited resources. My dad worked multiple jobs so that my mom could stay home and be with us full-time. My mom was creative with the types of fun things we got to do, the meals she made and our clothes (oh was she ever creative with our clothes). They may not have had all the luxuries they wanted, but they made choices. They made sacrifices. And our family had what we needed. I'm hoping John and I can do the same for Charlie. I saw this sign shortly after John and I made the official decision for me to stay home, and the words couldn't have resonated with me more in that moment.

The text reads..."Choose your corner, pick away at it carefully, intensely and to the best of your ability and that way you might change the world." - Charles Eames

For the last seven years, my classroom at Westwood has been my corner, and while I can't say I've changed the world, I know I've made a difference. Now it's time to pick a new corner for a while. I'll have a new kind of classroom. I anticipate it'll still be a place where I learn as much as I teach, and I know it will require just as much energy and dedication. But I feel so lucky to embark on this next chapter. To make a difference in Charlie's, for now, little world.

You're Lucky to Have Friends

At story time last week, a woman with her sixteen-month-old daugther sat down next to me and immediately asked about Chuck - the youngest and sleepiest kid at the library that morning. As usual, when I told her he was two months old, she marveled at his size and exclaimed that it was so great that I was out and about with him claiming she never would have been able to do that. I laughed saying that when our friends asked this morning if we could come to the park and play and then head to the library, we happily said yes. She just said, "Wow. You're lucky to have friends like that." Initially her sincere comment made me a little sad...did she not have friends? Was she lonely? Was her daughter lonely? Should I have responded differently? She got up pretty quickly after our abbreviated conversation so her daughter could have a snack, and I was left thinking about her response. And our friends.

How lucky we are to have friends. Friends for every new stage of our life and friends that have stuck around through all of life's stages. Friends who know just what to say. Friends who know just how you feel. Friends who don't need the back-story. Friends who listen intenty. Friends who laugh hysterically. And friends who cry right alongside you. This excerpt from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet encompasses all that I cherish in friendship. Indeed, we're lucky to have friends.

Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

- Kahlil Gibran

Two Months!

I can't believe how different life is with just another month under our belt. Charlie is a completely different kid - he's looking less and less like a newborn and so much like a little person. Not to worry, he's still crazy cute! And with all this growing has come some pretty cool new tricks. He smiles so much now, and while he still has a pretty serious face most the time, his gummy smile will absolutely melt your heart. He looks around and focuses on fans, trees, people's faces, Stanley, etc., and perhaps my favorite new trick is that he absolutely recognizes and is calmed by John and me. And I've got to say, not much feels better than when someone hands you your crying child and he immediately sighs and is quietly content. Oh it's real love.

Charlie had his two month appointment today, and since we had to do all his shots at six weeks before we left for MN, we just got to have a regular, relaxed check-up. Not surprisingly, Charlie is still a big boy. He's weighing in at 14.4 lbs and continues to be off the charts for height. Ooohhh that makes for one proud papa!

He's still the coolest little cucumber and sleeps a lot. But when he's awake, he's smiling, cooing and trying to put together new and different sounds. In the last week or so, he's started talking so much in the evenings almost like he's trying to relay all the joys of his day to his sweet dad. He's sleeping extremely well (he slept from 8:30 - 6:15 the night of the Fourth...dreamy!), and I think it's his new and improved sleep habits that are helping to make our lives so good. He still loves to play on his mat and relishes our time outdoors, but now he enjoys relaxing in his crib looking at his lamb mobile hanging overhead, and his newest interest, and I mean new like yesterday, is books. We'd tried reading early on, and John was convinced that Charlie was taking after him and his anti-reading habits. Actually, I was convinced too; Charlie would literally SCREAM every time we tried to read to him, but oh what a difference a few weeks can make. Yesterday, before we headed to story time at the library, I tried again. We laid down on the rug in his room and read Brown Bear, Brown Bear, and he focused right in and talked the entire way through the book. We went to Charlie's first story time at the library with friends later that morning, and while he slept through the entire presentation, I couldn't have been more impressed - gosh, I forgot just how cool the library is. We checked out some books before leaving and read under the shade of the peach tree when we got home. What a blissful summer morning!

We couldn't be more in love with this little guy and feel in awe of how much our hearts continue to swell. There's a whole lotta love flying around, and man, two months feels good.

Shoot...it's still so hard to sit up!

Jet Lag

Our week-long trip in Minnesota definitely spoiled me. I got use to being a two-parenting team all-day everyday, and oh how sweet it made life. The week-long trip also spoiled Chuck. He got to be held non-stop during the day. The combination of both of these spoilings proved to be toxic this past week. And on top of everything, I decided to go to Dallas on my own with Charlie. No big deal, right?

Trip positives - We stayed at Tania and Pat's spending quality time laughing, crying, eating cookie cake and catching up. Charlie got some overdue GiGi and Pops time, and he undoubtedly remembered my mom's sweet, soothing voice and was instantly at peace whenever he was around her. Love! We played Top Golf where my brother and I dominated (I'll take the credit!). We spent time hanging out and catching up with my oldest sister, Jennifer; Matt; my favorite second mom, Patty; and Zachary, Tiffany, Charlie, and Eileen got to meet Chuck. Charlie got to go on two swimming adventures with his GiGi and cousins. We watched my four-year-old nephew's t-ball team, The Fire Ants, dominate in their last game (alright so only three players showed up for the other team...it still counts as a win!). We picked up Stanley - the house just wasn't the same without him. And Charlie, once again, was held during most of his naptimes...his favorite.

Trip rough spots - The stop in Waxahachie was weird - I refuse to go into anymore detail. Charlie was thrown off his schedule which made for a fussy baby. He woke up at midnight (never happens), 4:00 and 6:00...not fun. I thought I planned the perfect trip home, but things went downhill as soon as we got in the car. He fussed immediately. That never happens. He quietly kicked around in the backseat for about forty-five minutes without falling asleep. That never ever happens. And then we hit Waxahachie, ugh. Charlie cried off and on from Waxahachie to Round Rock. I kept hoping that the normally calming effect of the road would lull Charlie to sleep, but it never happened. And I was hesitant to stop because it was late. I'm certain if Stanley had opposable thumbs he would have happily opened the door and thrown himself from the car; I was right there with him. And of course when we arrived in Austin all three of us were exhausted and mad at the world. Just the sweet family John had been missing, I'm sure.

So now, we're desperately trying to get Charlie use to being back at home and sleeping in his bed. He's not-so-silently protesting, but we're staying the course. I'm anticipating a rough week ahead and am steadily reminded that this mothering thing is not for the weary. It can be trying on our best day, but the reward is sweet. The love is sweeter, and even though today is tough, I believe tomorrow will be better.